TELEVISION + LUKE HAINES
London Queen Elizabeth Hall 19th June 2002
Part of David Bowie's eclectic Meltdown festival, this was an occasion for a legendary band to reform without a major reissues campaign.
Ten years ago I had only just discovered the original Television albums, just as they were about to release a long awaited (and as it happened, poorly received) third album. I was also listening to a new English band called the Auteurs who had delivered a brilliant debut single ('Showgirl') and were darlings of the press. Fast forward to 2002 and ex-Auteurs mainman Luke Haines is playing this solo show in support of Television. There have been a lot of changes since then as Haines has killed off the Auteurs and tasted pop success with Black Box Recorder. Tonight he performs solo, with the exception of occasional violin/ cello accompaniment.
He gets off to an impressive start by announcing that he was "out on bail for the murder of a Young British Artist" before launching into the very fine 'I Shot Sarah Lucas' but he's fighting a losing battle with this crowd who either don't care or don't know who he is. The recent soundtrack album 'Christie Malry's own Double-Entry' features heavily and the likes of 'Discomania' and 'England Scotland and Wales' can hold their own with his back catalogue. Old Auteurs material appears of course - 'Unsolved Child Murder' is as dark as it gets while 'Showgirl' gets the best reception.
Needless to say that everyone is really here for Television and there is a definite buzz when they take the stage. Tom Verlaine appears as skinny and laidback as ever, taking centre stage and controlling the proceedings. The old songs are greeted like long lost friends, although rather than cobble together a 'Marquee Moon' rerun, they include newer material and some of Verlaine's solo work which seems to temper some of the enthusiasm a bit.
Having said that, 'Call Mr Lee' (from the '92 album) is one of the real highlights and the first taste of Verlaine and Lloyd's inspired interplay. There is very little from the second album 'Adventure', although 'Glory' gets one of the warmest receptions of the whole night.
Of course Television's reputation was built on the troubled classic 'Marquee Moon' and it still sounds great. 'Venus' and 'See No Evil' are wonderful - and they give Richard Lloyd a chance to show off a bit - but it's 'Marquee Moon' that steals the show. It's probably the only time they really stretch themselves and equal the inspired improvising that all those old bootlegs show so well. It is worth the price of admission alone. Unfortunately they let us come down gradually after that by segueing a cover of the Count Five's 'Psychotic Reaction' into a rambling incantation of Bowie lyrics over a freeform backing. It's difficult to know whether they're paying tribute or taking the piss.
I nearly always feel a sense of disappointment when I see someone who was at their peak years ago (the only exceptions have been Patti Smith and Brian Wilson). I have a bootleg version of 'Little Johnny Jewel' which is absolutely transcendent and one of the most amazing things I have ever heard. Tonight they played it for about six minutes and although it was better than most other rock bands it couldn't equal that version from the late 70s. Television were here and I wouldn't have missed it for anything but there was no 'Friction', no 'Foxhole' and not as much fire.
