From the Archives: The Idlewild Experience (2003)

The recent Dig Me Out podcast episode on Idlewild’s 1998 full-length debut, Hope Is Important, got me to thinking about the night I saw the Scottish band perform in Columbus and hanging out with members after the show at a campus bar. While I once believed that everything on the internet would live forever, the two-part post I made on Donewaiting.com is no longer available at the long-defunct (but still existing) site. Thankfully, I was able to find it by searching Archive.org so thought I’d publish here for posterity sake (and so I can share with the Dig Me Out community). The first post on Donewaiting.com was made on April 25, 2003; the second post on May 3, 2003. They are combined here.

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Drunk and euphoric (one not necessarily caused by the other), I emerged from Irving Plaza in NYC last October having witnessed one of my favorite bands ever play an engaging and goosebump-inducing set. I grabbed a hold of Slayer’s shoulders and said, “If Idlewild ever comes to Columbus, you HAVE to let me interview them for a feature in the Alive.” To placate me, Slayer (who, for the record, HATES being called Slayer) conceded and said, “If you write it, they will come.” (With apologies to Field of Dreams.)

In February, an initial list of U.S. Idlewild dates were posted on the band’s website with a gaping hole between the Cleveland and Detroit shows. Slayer and I conspired, trying to figure out how we could fill that hole with a Columbus date. Within days, we learned that conspiring wasn’t needed as the Newport Music Hall announced that Idlewild’s would be making their Columbus debut on April 23. It took all of 3 minutes for me to contact Capitol Records and set up an interview. The original plan was for me to interview singer Roddy Woomble and that’s how I wrote my questions (“How much lyrical inspiration do you get from books you read?” etc.).

When the phone rang in mid-March, I answered, fully prepared to greet Roddy warmly and tell him how if I could only listen to one band for the rest of my life it would be Idlewild. “Chip, this is Paul from Capitol, I’ve got Allen from Idlewild on the other line. Are you ready to do the interview?” Allen? Allen? Crap, I scoured that filing cabinet in my brain trying to remember which one Allen was. Was he the new guy? Was he the drummer? Damn, I couldn’t remember but it was too late. “Chip? Hello, this is Allen,” the guitarist (ah yes, not the lead guitarist but the rhythm guitarist, now I remember) said with a Scottish accent.

I won’t recap the interview; instead I’ll direct you here where you can read an abridged version (perhaps one of these days I’ll post the unabridged version on Swizzle-Stick).

April 23 could not roll around soon enough. Being in the know, as I, but of course, am, I knew that the show would not have a tremendous draw. To close friends I secretly whispered the number 200 as the “magic” number, the number of other fortunate souls that I predicted would see one of the best rock shows in 2003. The Newport, according to it’s own website, holds 1700 people (when the 550-person balcony is open). Any size crowd less than 300 makes the place seem cavernous. Despite the feature in the Alive and a short interview in the daily paper, when we (Slayer, Duffy, Frank, and myself) arrived at the club, there weren’t a whole lot of people there. (I would later learn, from Idlewild directly, that 116 tickets had been sold and two dozen people had been given free tickets or were on the guest list. If you do the math, that’s less than 200 people.)

In my first Idlewild concert experience, I was surprised/shocked/amazed that I knew every song that was performed during the set. Idlewild is the type of band that releases half a dozen singles from each album and each single usually has 2 or 3 B-sides tacked on to make the purchase that much more appealing. Additionally, I’m not terribly familiar with Idlewild’s earliest release, the hard to find Captain EP, so that’s what makes my knowing all the songs from the October show all the more noteworthy.

At the Columbus show, the band opened with what I thought was a new song. Going back to those filing cabinets I keep in my brain full of worthless musical trivia, I tried to figure out if I had ever heard the song but it wasn’t ringing any bells. Nevertheless, it sounded great (as though I expected that it might not). Allen later told me that it was a song from Captain that had been slightly reworked/modernized. I inched my way up to the front of the stage, which wasn’t too difficult considering the size of the crowd. I was amazed at just how young the band looked. Up close and personal, the guys don’t look like any of them can be older than 21 or 22 though they must be considering that the band has been together and touring since 1995.

I hung out close to the stage for a few songs but then worked my way back to the small posse (which, by that point, had grown to include 3 members of The Stepford Five – who, in my opinion, really should have opened the show).

“Slayer,” says I. “If these guys play for four hours tonight, it won’t be enough.” It turns out that not only did they not play for four hours but, in fact, played just an hour long set (on at 9:30, off at 10:30). Still, songs from all 3 full lengths (Hope is Important, 100 Broken Windows, The Remote Part) were played including my favorites – “When I Argue I See Shapes,” “American English,” “Rosability,” and “(I Am) What I Am Not”. But, really, there is not an Idlewild song that I don’t like so the set was like listening to Idlewild’s greatest hits.

Though the show lasted only an hour, I felt spent. I could just feel rays of life shooting out of my body throughout the set, my head filled with daydreams of being able to write songs the way Roddy does, to play guitar the way Rod and Allen do. I fantasized about being the soundman for the band and getting to hear the band every night while getting paid to do so, of getting to watch the songs come to life over and over again, each time with a renewed spirit and energy.

After the show the rest of the posse headed north on High Street, laughing when I told them that I was going to go around to the back of the club and try to meet the band.

There are a few different types of people who go around to the back of a club following a rock show. There is the small group of people who want to get their CDs signed, nothing more, nothing less. They’ll utter a kind word or two to draw the musician over to where they are standing, something like, “Hey, great show tonight. I’m so glad you played that one song.” And then, after getting an autograph, they’ll walk away, head hung down, into the night.

The next group is made up of the uber-fans, the ones who have traveled a long distance to see the show, who have followed said band around from state to state. Usually, at least one band member (and a handful of roadies) will recognize people in this group, stop and talk and even find out if the fan is headed to the next city to catch a show. You’ll hear things like, “Sure, I’ll put you on the guest list if you’re really going to show up in Pittsburgh tomorrow night.” These fans don’t want autographs, they just want to be noticed by the band and thanked for the lengths at which they travel to see the band.

The third group is made up of women (girls) who think that they are going to sleep with the band. Not every band who comes through town will encounter these girls, although from past experiences I’ve noticed that the same crew tends to make the rounds. One night you’ll see a girl, dressed in a Playboy bunny t-shirt hanging on a guitar player from a punk band, the next night you’ll see her getting cozy with the lead singer from a nu metal band.

The last group is made up of people like myself. We stand around, hoping to thank the band for what they do. Our (my) hope, our (my) fantasy is that somebody in the band will say, “Hey, I’ve enjoyed talking to you. Want to go with us to grab a drink?” That doesn’t happen too often, especially when there are a lot of people waiting behind the venue but, fortunately for me, the Idlewild post-show crowd was rather slim and mostly made up of the first two types of fans that I described.

Roddy emerged from the venue, backpack slung over one shoulder. He looked equal part shy schoolboy as he did rock star. In fact, he looked MORE like a schoolboy than somebody who has graced the cover of NME magazine. A few nervous fans (see first paragraph) called him over with a simple, “Great show Roddy” (all fans seem to be on a first name basis with this person that they have never met). “Think you could sign our CD covers?” Roddy obliged, happy to do so, answering a few questions, making small talk. The conversation died out quickly and Roddy made his way towards the Idlewild tour bus. Hoping to be invited out for a drink I ran over and said hi. Not knowing what else to say, I stumbled for words and said something like, “Sorry there wasn’t more people here tonight. You are such a great band, I’m embarrassed by the turnout.”

“We don’t have a song on the radio and we’re playing in a venue that was too big. But, it wasn’t a terrible show,” Roddy said. He seemed anxious to get to the bus so I went for broke. “Um, do you know if Allen will be coming out soon? I interviewed him for the local paper and just wanted to introduce myself.”

“Sure, just poke your head in the door. He’s standing right over there,” Roddy said and then left.

Allen emerged from the backstage area. I introduced myself and he claimed to have remembered our conversation. I tried to set myself apart from the “average” fan by discussing different songs, different shows, different venues. We talked a bit about Allen’s somewhat brief history with the band and he told me about the band that he is in with two of Idlewild’s roadies – Alex and Ritchie. “I think I have a demo CD on the bus of our other band, Desalvo, if you want to check it out.”

I followed him to the bus where he retrieved a 2-song CD-R. “You’ll have to let me know what you think. It’s pretty heavy,” he said. “You can be honest. We just do it for fun.”

Much to my surprise, Allen then invited me to go with him, Alex, Ritchie, and Idlewild’s drummer Colin to find a drink along High Street. Back in my college days, High Street was packed with bars, the street were full of drunk college students, and everybody had a good time. On this particular night, the streets were barren and there wasn’t an open bar in site. Our first stop was a bad frat/sorority bar. It was quickly decided that we’d rather NOT get a drink at all then sit inside that place and listen to drunk guys with baseball hats and CD collections full of Phish, Dave Matthews, and Jimmy Buffet try to pick up dizzy ex-cheerleader types. We opted instead for the punk rock club Bernie’s. We were joined on our quest by two young ladies who had been following Idlewild around on tour. I was introduced to Allison who, as it turns out, grew up 4 houses away from where I grew up in Westlake, Ohio (2 hours north of Columbus). It was a rather bizarre discovery to learn that not only had we grown up so close but that we also had many of the same teachers – especially considering that I’m 10 years her senior.

When we got to Bernie’s, we were told that there was a $3 cover charge. Alex and Ritchie wanted to play pool but felt bad that we were about to enter a rock club that was hosting a solo performance by a punk singer/songwriter who was accompanied by a plugged in electric guitar and nothing else. They were worried that the pool playing would drown out the sound. Additionally, it appeared as though our posse would double the size of the crowd. The guy at the door offered us some sort of group “discount” and it was decided that we would go in and that Alex and Ritchie would be as quiet as possible in their pool game.

For the next two hours I had separate conversations with Allen, Alex and Ritchie. All three have thick Scottish accents and I’d be lying if I didn’t say that a few times I was so lost that I just shook my head and said, “Oh, yeah, right.” Most of the conversation centered around heavy metal bands like Pantera, Helmet, Quicksand, etc. There was a time in my life where those were my three favorite bands and it was fun to talk to people who also were big fans.

The most interesting conversation I had all night was with Alex. I told him that I was a HUGE Idlewild fan but had only seen them live once – at the CMJ Music Marathon in New York City. He told me that he had played bass that night with the band because their bassist had “left” the band a few weeks earlier. He then told me that he has also played, on-stage, with Aereogramme and Mogwai. (Man, I LOVE bands from Scotland.)

“So, have you heard the new Mogwai CD?” I asked.

“No. I talked to the bassist a few weeks ago and he said he still had some parts to finish,” Alex replied.

“That’s interesting,” I said, “because I downloaded it last week.”

“What? You mean, I’m friends with the band, I’ve played with them live, I do sound for them when they tour and YOU have a copy of the new CD before I do? Unbelievable!” Alex said with a chuckle.

“Well, hey, if they don’t have a copy to give to you, just let me know and I’ll burn it and send it to you!”

More laughter.

The conversations ensued, a beer or two was consumed, and then it was time to head home. As we walked back to the area where both the tour bus and my car were parked, Allen asked how far away I lived.

“It’s not bad, just about 20 miles,” I said.

“20 miles? In Scotland, if you can’t walk to it, you don’t go to it,” he said. 20 miles might as well have been 200 miles as far as Allen was concerned.

We said our goodbyes, shook hands, traded e-mail addresses. All in all a perfect night. I couldn’t have asked for more. The whole way home I kept thinking of the people that I went to the show with that laughed when I headed around to the back of the club. I know that a few of them would have LOVED to have joined us for some spirited conversations about rock and roll. Maybe next time fellas, maybe next time.