New Morning

Completely inconspicuous, even ugly, from the outside, New Morning is proof that you should never judge a book by its cover. Hosting some of the best jazz line-ups in the city, New Morning is an intimate venue that promises a fantastic atmosphere whether you’re seeing perfected professionals - jazz greats Miles Davies and Chet Baker have played here - or the newest names in funk and soul. Inside there’s an abundance of red from the theatre style fold up seats to the swag curtains which add to the cosy intimacy of the venue. The crowd is unpretentious and is mostly made up of jazz enthusiasts ready to dance along and have a good time. Surprisingly for a concert venue, the drink prices aren’t extortionate and you can get a pint for around €6. So book a ticket and enjoy the toe-tapping, down to earth cool of New Morning.

So I’m fifteen years old, and I’m relishing in the sonic joy that is a new Genesis tape I found in my Granny Katie’s loft after a hard day of making - and eating - tablet. After giving my ears a good demolishing with their epic “Los Endos”, I flip the tape over, fully expecting some more live bootlegged Peter Gabriel-era Genesis action, but am shocked when I hear an unknown prog band, that are, well, exceptional to my fifteen year old ears. After weeks scouring the record fairs and buying Classic Rock Magazine’s “Progtastic” special issue, I was still unsure who this group were. Could they be Gong, I thought? It was as close as I could guess. Or maybe my Dad and Uncles were truly secret prog-rock geniuses. I never found out… …So skip eleven years on (oh my merde!) and I see Gong are playing in a venue near me in Paris, I got too curious. We get there a little late, but in time to see the group launching through a number with the lyrics “break through the clock/ to the other side of midnight”, and also featuring the leader in a velvet red top hat, playing his guitar with a mathematical compass. Add on to this a woman wailing on and on, calling down Shalid, the Moon, and then firing into a pre T-Rex stomp, this is getting very proggy. Bingo me thinks! Now, I had done some research on this before going to the venue, looking at photos and what not. And the main feeling at the intermission is “Man, I just want to see a guy dressed as a prawn play a tiny guitar”. Because from the photos online, this seems to be Gong’s thing. Enough of the space whisperer woman thinking she is an eagle flying the Cosmic jet stream! And without fail, out he comes, the angel prawn from another solar system, shredding that tiny guitar with all his elderly might. After that the whole concert becomes a kaildescope of Indian drumming, ripping sax solos, and hypnotic beats from the bands tight rhythm section. Astounding gig, despite the overworking of some songs. But hey! That’s prog! And were Gong the missing link in my deep, nerdy teenage knowledge of prog bands? I’m still not sure, but seeing prawn man lived up to expectations.