Look we’re on TV, we’re all on TV
Television Personalities do some pointing
The Television Personalities fulfil many of the definitions of a cult band: fans who include well respected musicians, languishing in obscurity, and a slightly mad lead singer. I reckon I have a good knowledge of music, but I’d never heard of them until Ekky told me his mates Dustin’s Bar Mitzvah were supporting them at the Barfly. I’d passed on seeing �Dustin’s’ a few times, and when I heard Kurt Cobain was a fan of the TVP’s, well, I had to go.
Dirty Little Faces, a band with mod haircuts and a London swagger started the proceedings. I saw them supporting Jeff Lewis last month at the Windmill, but this time they were more at ease. Both the venue and the bands they were supporting suited them better.
Dustin’s came on and the lead singer, Dave, had a Pierrot style stream of mascara running down his left cheek. The rash of badges stuck to his black t-shirt didn’t seem to get in the way, he yelled his way through To the Ramones, Young Pretender (a song about Nick Griffin of the BNP), Lucy (You can chase all you want, but you’ll never catch the dragon…), before announcing that his cat had lost his territorial control of the back garden. After this personal tragedy we continued with Get Yr Mood On (Get Yr F**king Mood On), and more energetic high jinx. Jay, the American in our party felt it was as if Dudley Moore had taken on rock singer form.
The Television Personalities are led by the erratic genius that is Dan Treacy, they formed in the white heat of the summer of punk - 1977 – and after putting out albums in the until the mid 90’s (and supporting Nirvana in 1993), Mr Treacy disappeared from the music scene in the 1996. In 2004 he was tracked down to a prison boat in Dorset. After being released from this Dickensian incarceration, Treacy has returned to touring and just put out an album on the super-cool Domino Records.
The band took the stage – drummer in Fidel Castro-style military cap, a shaved headed bass player, a female singer - gothic looking with curly bob and a long, floppy haired chello player sitting to the left of the drummer. The bass player and drummer looked angular and surprisingly well maintained for a band that has had its problems with �excess’. On the left hand side of the stage was a man with a round face, darting eyes and a several layers of coat and shirt. Things were a little organised.
The music started and the man with the anorak moved to the other side of the stage. The band began with an tetchy, spiky number – �This Angry Silence�. The second song was more shambolic, it might have been �Scream Quietly�. Unfortunately I was not taking notes and can’t remember what the darn songs were. By the third song someone stormed out, sloshing beer all over me on the way. I blithely assumed this was because he was too drunk, but a few songs later and it became clear the place was a lot emptier than at the start of the concert.
Dan Treacy and his coats
A voice at the back shouted out �We love you, Daniel�. Daniel responded by sticking his fingers up and cursing. I saw a woman to my left with a pad, taking notes. Yeah, that is what I should do! The next song involved �A Girl with a Tear in her Eye�, I know that tear I thought. Another tune was about being �A long time gone�, I was reminded of Syd Barrett who was also �Long Gone’ and felt sad. Dan’s guitar playing was erratic and he couldn’t seem to find the microphone to sing into. In fact, the microphone was positioned at chest level, Dan stood straight and sang un-amplified.
The bass player kept on going over to see if Dan was alright, who smiled weakly, he announced a number from the new album and they sang �My Dark Places’. Suddenly Dan was no where to be seen, standing on tip toes I could see his white coat crouching in front of the drum kit. He got up, �it’s Spinal Tap� he laughed, the crowd murmured, �Oh, it’s all back to yours is it?�
The song stopped and Dan ran to the left hand side of the stage, and leant on the speaker. He had a perplexed and slightly out of focus expression. �Sorry, that’s all folks� said the bassist. Still, they managed to get Dustin’s back on to do a version of �Part Time Punks� whilst a crowd of people talked to Dan. But it was no good, that was the end.
The gig could have been a cautionary tale about the dangers of rock and roll and drugs (the horse, more specifically). It might have been just a really bad night for Dan Treacy. On the other hand perhaps it was the merest of glimpse of something strangely beautiful, something well disguised, but hopefully not gone.