I know you have no idea who I'm talking about, unless of course you're E-weezy (who deserves a medal for being so so cool and surprisingly daring enough to go to a concert on my recommendation having never heard of the artist before!). We saw Alice Russell this evening, and instead of sitting at a bar having post-show drinks with her and "the crew" (after dazzling my way through her security people of course), I'm here... on the internet... blogging!!
If you spoke to me today or yesterday,
you would've learned that I was more than just a little apprehensive about this concert. I'll have you know that it wasn't just because I was pulling the usual Bitchy stunt i.e. getting cold-feet and being all whingey before an event. I had legit reasons for calling up the Jazz Cafe and attempting to get my money back (Yah.. kinda didn't tell you that part E-weezy... teehee! But aren't you glad they said no? *Big grin*).
I discovered Alice in January or so this year, and was blooooown away... seriously! I raved about her to anyone and everyone who would listen. Her album was so flippin fantastic, and I couldn't believe no one knew about this "soul sister" who should've been "hotonthemuthafuckinblock," as Chydo would say.
A month later, after staring a little too intently at the back of her album cover, I noticed the face of a white woman grinning up at me. I ignored it at first cuz there was NO way in hell she could be white. Before I continue, I should add that I'm not racist.. I'm not saying white people can't sing.. What I am saying is that she sounded so black that she was blacker than black, and there was just no way she could be anything but black. Google came in handy, as it always does, and her website revealed that she was, in fact, white! Getting over that shock, took a while, but in that time I managed to get hold of her second album. I raced home to play it, only to skip from track to track, accept defeat and hand it back to the mother (who was actually the rightful owner, as she had been the one to make the purchase under the influence of all my gushing and raving). I didn't even stop to copy it onto my laptop. It was that heart-breaking.
A couple of weeks ago I remembered there was an Alice concert coming up, and so did some more Googling and Amazoning on her. Turns out she had a new album which had only just come out. So I did as anyone would do, and I ordered it. It took a while to get here, so in my haste I ordered the concert tickets too. The album arrived on Monday morning I think, and by Monday afternoon I was almost in tears. Okay fine I'm exaggerating again but it was .... terrible! There was none of the croony but funky but soulful but upbeat stuff that'd been on the first album. It was all techno and boring!
This morning therefore, when I thought of what the concert would be like, I did not for a second think that I would get anywhere close to Jazzywonderland. I didn't even get ready to go to the bloody thing until E-weezy arrived and looked down at me through her merchant banker spectacles (She's a Bitch in the City too by the way... but she's not a Bitchy Bitch, if that makes any sense). Actually its a lot more accurate if I say that she looked up at me (as I'm.. ehem.. taller, by.. ehem... quite a bit) but she did give a very disdainful, disapproving look. She may even have shaken her head at me.
Where was I going with this? Uh.. yah.. arriving at the Jazz Cafe first of all, was like a completely new experience. This time, we didn't approach the venue from the grotty, revolting end of Camden (apologies if you happen to live at this end, but you really should send a petition or something to your Council!). We came from the Primrose Hill end. So everything did look a lot nicer. I won't say what I said to E-weezy about the difference a crowd full of white, as opposed to black, corn-rowed and afro-puffed people, makes to the general ambience of a venue. Ooops! I said it. Last time I was there, was to see Erro who (in case you didn't know) is the definition (although the newly-pottbellied 'definition' as I woefully discovered) of neo soul. So of course, that time, everyone in the cafe was of African descent. In a place that's as dimly-lit as the Jazz Cafe, such faces and hairdos don't exactly brighten up the place, if you catch my drift. So it was rather refreshing to be one of only four or five negroid faces in the room.
[*Please remember at this juncture that I am not racist, neither am I some prejudiced negroid who has lost sight of her roots. I am... Bitchy! Politically-incorrect etc etc.. For a refresher on the characteristics of my.. ehem.. fictional character, kindly go to my first post*]
I can't believe I haven't gotten round to describing how phenomenal she was. She... was... phenomenal...
We went to Jazzywonderland and back, on a magic carpet ride (Yes, I know I'm mixing up my cartoons okay? It's deliberate.. sheesh!) Everything I'd thought or said about her previous two albums flew right out the window.. Her voice was incredible. CDs do her a terrible injustice. The other great thing about her is that she was fun.. like really fun. She danced about, and made faces, said funny things, forgot the words and made them up when she covered Gnarls Barkley's Crazy, which was the best remix ever!
I love her... I don't know if I'll be listening to her newer two albums again.. But I love her anyway... Maybe there's an "Alice Live in Concert" or something like that. If there is, I'm gonna get it. Why? Because.. I LOVE her!
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