Tag Archives: Alex Fischel

Spoon @ the 100 Club, 27/02/17

Over more 20 years and eight studio albums, with another about to drop, Spoon have been a marvel of consistency. There’s not a weak record in their discography, not even the by-their-standards callow debut, Telephono (which leaned heavily on a Pixies influence long since outgrown). Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga and Gimme Fiction, the group’s mid-career masterpieces, are as good as indie rock has gotten in the band’s lifetime. They’re one of my favourite bands, but I caught on late, and still rue the fact that I never got to see them on their way up, at small venues where I could all but reach out and touch the band.

Oh yeah, until Monday night, when I saw them play at the 100 Club in London.

For the unfamiliar, the 100 Club is a semi-legendary basement venue in an unlikely location on the north side of Oxford Street. Wrong, because it belongs by temperament on the other side of the road, in Soho. To get to it, you have to enter what looks like an office building, dodging the tourists and shoppers as you go. It’s a low room, wider than it is long, with bars at either end of the room, well away from the stage (what a joy not to have your enjoyment of the gig affected by the noise from the bar). The crowd in front of the stage can only be maybe 10 people deep. It’s not the perfect rock venue (the pillar right in front of the stage is not ideal), but it’s a pretty damn good one, and the smallest place Spoon have played in the UK in many a year.

The band were warming up for a tour that begins in the US in a week or two and returns to Europe in the early summer, when I’ll be seeing them from the balcony of the Kentish Town Forum. I like watching bands from the balcony – you can see more, and I love watching drummers from an elevated angle. But if you can’t be up high, the next best thing is to be up close, and at the 100 Club, I was really close.

Spoon were superb, and could as easily have been midway through a tour than warming up for it. It’s sometimes said that the hallmark of someone who’s really good at something is that they make it look really easy. I don’t know if it’s always true but I’d lean towards maybe not on Monday’s evidence.

I watched the band members carefully through the set, looking for the cues they were giving each other; the eye contact and little gestures, sometimes even shouted instructions. What was clear was how hard they all worked, all the way through; there are no passengers. All five men break into a sweat within a few songs, but even given the high work rate of all involved, some contributions stood out. Alex Fischel, who plays guitar, keyboards and percussion, conspicuously worked his arse off all night. Jim Eno – possibly the world’s greatest drummer – hits the drums a lot harder than I perceived from the balcony at Shepherd’s Bush. Finally, Britt Daniel – by most accounts a quiet and focused individual offstage – is a charismatic frontman and a well-practised engager of audiences. He held the audience in the palm of his hand, and his voice, hoarse and congested-sounding though it is, is capable of surprising purity and vulnerability on quieter songs.

The new songs – Hot Thoughts and Can I Sit Next to You plus two others I didn’t know, sounded great, just as good as anything they’ve done before, so I’m pretty excited about the prospect of a new album and another London show in the next few months. God bless Spoon. May they live another 20 years.

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*On penultimate song My Mathematical Mind, the cymbal-crashing finale of the song was rawly, viscerally thrilling. Eno so rarely draws attention to himself in his playing that when he does it’s a proper treat.

Spoon @ Shepherd’s Bush, 07/11/14

I’ve written before here about how much I love Jim Eno, the drummer from Texan indie-rock veterans Spoon. Watching them from a decent vantage point at the Shepherd’s Bush Empire last night gave me a little bit more insight into how he does what he does, and why it hits me so hard. But that was the least of it. It’s the interplay between all the members of the band that makes them so vital. Britt Daniel’s songs are elliptical and sometimes seem like fragments of bigger works, with changes that seem arbitrary the first few times you hear them, so it’s the band that supply the connective tissue that keeps it all together and functioning.

Firstly to deal with Eno, he’s got a few cool tricks. The maracas-as-drumsticks thing I’ve got to try; it gives a subtle 16th-note feel to an 8th-note pattern when he does it. Maybe it’d just be messy in the hands of the unpracticed. He played at least one song open handed, hitting the hats with his left hand (Rent I Pay). When he plays 16th notes on the hats with one hand, he’s got a great feel. The more I watched him, the more I thought of Charlie Watts. Ringo Starr’s key drum was the snare. John Bonham’s the kick. Charlie Watts’s and Jim Eno’s is the hi hat. Surprisingly, given the huge drum sound he often has on record, Eno’s playing is fairly light. He doesn’t use rimshots to choke the snare and get more volume and top end. He doesn’t hit from the shoulder; it’s an economical movement of the elbow and wrist, nothing more. His bass drum work suggests and R&B and soul influence.

Notably, he was the only band member not introduced by name by Britt Daniel, who just commented at one point to the audience, “Jim’s good tonight, isn’t he?” – Spoon members come and go, with Eno and Daniel the only ever-presents, and the other guys probably a bit younger (Eno’s 48!). Probably Daniel felt that Eno needed no introduction.

But he’s only one part of the collective, great as he is. There’s a lot of talent on the stage when Spoon play. Rob Pope, the bassist, is always in the pocket, providing solid low end without swamping things or getting in the way. Any contribution he makes beyond the obvious is always telling. OK, sure, that makes him the archetypal bass player, but every band should be so lucky as to have one.

Meanwhile, Alex Fischel and Eric Harvey both switch between guitar, keyboards and percussion, sometimes in the same song. Both play all three with a sure touch, whether playing squonky guitar solos, a pseudo harp solo on the keys or a Motown tambourine pattern. Their versatility is key to the band’s on-stage power, which was sometimes more telling on the quietest songs. The touches the band added during the second half of The Ghost of You Lingers made it one of the evening’s most thrilling moments, proving the group are just as effective playing off Britt Daniel’s surprisingly adept falsetto vocal as they are stomping through the Motown-esque You Got Yr Cherry Bomb or the late-Beatles-ish Don’t Make Me a Target.

If it sounds like I’m minimising Daniel’s contributions, I don’t mean to. Obviously they’re his songs and it’s his voice that puts them over, but Spoon are a band I love because of the ensemble playing, and last night – on the last night of the tour, at their biggest ever headlining show in Europe – they tore it up. It was great to see.

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Britt Daniel, some other show