Tinariwen

It took me about three years to have the chance to meet Tinariwen on a stage again.
The second time was a show at London Koko that the lack of security allowed me to photograph in its entirety, lots of films used, great atmosphere, great music.

The first time I saw Tinariwen was a different affair. They emerged from hiding in the Libyan desert to come as a storm in the world music scene. In the 80s member of the band were trained by Gaddafi to guerrilla and spent years fighting Tuareg revolt against Malian government. In the 90s they left the weapons to embrace guitars. A nice tale that got an emotional response from France, first, to the world followed.
It was Barbican 2004 and blues legend Taj Mahal joined them on stage. A once in a lifetime concert if you are into world music.

At that times the music press used to call Malian music desert blues. Tinariwen released Amassakoul, their second album and first to have international recognition. Ali Farka Touré was still alive and about to kick Savane. Two albums that would change the history of African music, or, better, change the perception of the Western world about (West) African music.

Martin Scorsese blues series was out about that time as well. He filmed Feel Like Going Home a story documenting the journey of a Bluesman back to Africa in search of his roots. Good movie, but that concept never convinced me. It looks a marketing strategy to sell African music sticking the once appealing label “Blues” on it.

Tinariwen fell into that shelf for a long while. Backed by American musicians the tam-tam spread among world music circuit and soon they were labelled as the pioneers of Electric African blues. Desert blues. Electric whatever Blues.

Their music in reality wasn’t and still is not much more than African music played with Fender Stratocaster and electric guitars in addition to traditional percussions.
It is beautiful, reinvigorating and pushing the world music cliches away.
There was no need to dope that.

Tonight, 8 years later, Tinariwen are still up and running. They are touring Tassili, they’re latest album, fifth in total and Grammy Winner. All albums have be praised by the specialised press, all increased a solid following both sides of the ocean but the Grammy is the icing on the cake. Is the final proof to be part of the industry. As Bon Iver and the Black Keys are now experiencing too.

Advantage that the label blues seems to have gone. People don’t mind if they really play the blues and blues isn’t selling anymore.
If even Jack White (arguably the latest of bluesmen) record a solo album without hints of blue notes the trend is a fact.
Blues will come back, so far there is not much point to attach it to a Malian record.

Mali is having some problems again. Tuareg, the people to which the band belongs too, just declared independence on the north of the country following a military revolt happened ad the end of March. It is not clear what is going to happen next.

One thing is clear tonight though. When the band came onto the Shepherd’s Bush Empire stage, I noticed the absence of Ibrahim. The founder of the band and the undisputed leader tonight is missing.
I was pondering if he went back fighting, left the band or what. The girl at the merchandise stall told me he simply couldn’t be at that date.

The Observer writes he was back to Mali to help his people. Nice confirmation that Tinariwen music and belief are not something negotiable.

I would have appreciated to know the reason. Why English audience has always to keep music and politics separated even when there is such a strong link is a big question to answer. Unless there is Billy Bragg on stage.

The concert as it happens with Tinariwen has its great moments and some redundant passages. African rhythms can make the entire venue dance to their beat, some of the guitar solos are unnecessary or just too self-referential, the hand clapping is effective to warm up the air of another rainy and miserable spring night in London.
What makes Tinariwen special is what made them pioneers. They electrified African music, they moved it from self-assembled instruments to loud amplifiers plugged into Fender axes. Link to that a desire to voice the voiceless, arm the armless to mention Tom Morello and the mixture is explosive.

Enough to be looking forward to another Tinariwen show, waiting for Ibrahim to be back and Mali to live a peaceful future. Even because that is one of the places where I want to go for one of my photographic journeys.

Tinariwen are online at [website][facebook][twitter][myspace][spotify]

Photo tip

There are missed occasions for photographers at any gig, but this one was a sort of collection of missed occasions.
Not only pictures fail to happen when we are still within the allocated time slot.

it’s plenty of missed occasion beyond photographers’ control. And these are the ones that hurt most.

Ibrahim absence is one of them. He is surely the most photogenic member of the band, his intense glance is an easy winner. The revolutionary revolutioning with music. Ibrahim was in Mali not much to complain in reality. Praise to him to stand for the rights he always fought for.

Jose Gonzalez was the special guest opening for this special show. At a certain moment in the show the Swedish songwriter joined Tinariwen on stage to sing the TV on the Radio vocal part of Tenere Taqqim Tossam. There is not photographic evidence of this passage apart from once another bad quality youtube video. It was beyond the third song so photographers were moved out of the pit.

How many great concert moments are being lost because of the first three songs rule? I know I write this every other post but will never stop saying until someone has ears to listen to me and explain to me why.

There is more. This show was special because Tinariwen were going to be doubly awarded on stage. They picked the Songlines music award, from the magazine specialised in world music, and, most important the Grammy who marked their brilliant career and was airlifted straight from LA for the occasion.

This happened at the end of the show, when photographers were not allowed in the pit and most of them already on their computer downloading and post-editing the first three songs shots.

Missed occasions. Sadly.
There will be more, I will report them. Sadly.

Jack White

There was rock’n'roll. There were rockstars. It was a millennium ago.
Internet arrived. It tore down barriers, eliminated frontiers. Disclosed a new horizon. The excitement for the news was loud. So loud that people cried at the death of rock. The end of rockstars. A spontaneous call that seemed to make sense. Unknown future. More music, less rockstars.
They had reasons. Neil Young too, though. Rock’n'roll is here to stay.

A rule is as a statement that puts a limit. History taught that the ones writing rules, building barriers, are often unprepared to foresee all consequences.
Limits are raised, walls erected aiming to contain. But they pose a symbol to overthrow.
Sometime someone succeeds. Jumps over and obliterate the limit. Setting a new standard. If he’s a rocker, he may become a rockstar.

It is difficult to say whether it is because of the internet or the artistic suicide of the few antagonists, Casablancas and friends to name the first. Truth is, this millennium (so far) has one star left to shine in the rock’n'roll sky: Jack White.

The stage. Even before Jack White concert begins, in the half hour the roadies take to set up the huge and mysterious stage, it’s clear his show is going to be something different.
It’s not secret Jack White is as obsessed by his look as he is by his sound.
Since the first White Stripes LP cover it was pretty evident. Tonight, 15 years later, the situation hasn’t changed.

The color scheme of the new period has changed to an ice-cold blue/grey. HTML somewhat around #95B9C7. The gadgets-rich merchandise matches.
It recalls Blunderbuss’ artwork, the new (and first) solo album out today. He is about to performing live in London tonight. With only one show happened the night before in Paris, this is UK debut for White as a solo artist.
I may have a personal record here. I was at the first Racounters UK gig at the Astoria; I photographed (on film!) the first Dead Weather show here at the Forum and here I am at the first Jack White solo gig after a tenacious attempt to convince XL Records it was worth giving me a photopass. Surely it was worth insisting.

Oddities. The floor, instead of the standard black, is painted white. The roadies are a band in the band. They don’t wear shorts or t-shirts from obscure festivals and forgotten bands. They are fully dressed in black suits, hats and their ties match the color scheme. The duty is to set up the instruments, monitors and cables but the operation is done with a harmony that looks like a dance. And they are here to control the control freak. When I try to take a picture at the guitar effects, I am stopped. It’s forbidden (as long as roadies are on stage I am told). All the effects have been painted in #95B9C7 and are unrecognizable. There’s a Boss, there’s another pedal (may be a wah-wah or a volume?). I don’t know. Unless you are a professional guitarist the recipe producing the most identifiable guitar sound of the last 20 years is top secret.
The ‘head of the roadies’ put the setlist to the floor with (white) tape. I don’t have the time to grab the camera to snap that he throws a brown towel over it hiding the songs’ titles.

The drumkit on the left is kept covered till the last minute. Even the sound is checked under the light blue/grey cover. A pedal steel stands on a pedestal on the back. A Fender Telecaster sits on its right, a Gretsch on the left. Everything is in the ice-cold blue theme. There is a valve amplifier for each of the guitars. Three of them, aligned on the back. It’s the apotheosis of analogue stuff, any vintage lover would go mad. In front of this set.

Keyboards are on the right, opposite to the drumkit. In front of it there is an old acoustic guitar. It is so timeworn that I think it’s a century old. It reminds me of the only Robert Johnson picture.
Coolness at its peak, this is 100% Jack White.

9:30. It’s about time. The Forum security works hard to avoid the appearance of any smartphone/camera. They threaten to kick people off the venue if photos or videos are taken. It is written everywhere. On the long run it’s a lost war, but the battle tonight seems partially won.
My photopass sticker is even more precious. It obviously looks cool. It says: “I’m taking photos” and has the three stripes logo of Third Man record. Want to guess the colour? Click here.

9:40. Jack White, profession rockstar, arrives 10 minutes late.
In a brilliant interview to Alexis Petridis for The Weekend, Guardian magazine, he tells that until he can afford it, there will be two bands on this tour that alternate. One all-men and one all-girls band.
I realize White has a lot in common with Prince. They’re both incredible guitarists, they’re both control freaks and they are obsessed with coolness. No surprise that Prince‘s lesson going: “given similar conditions an all-girls band is sexier” is what Jack White opts for his London debut. Six girls appears onto the stage.

Three seconds into it, everyone is surprised. No one, not me for sure, expected that on the night of Blunderbuss’ launch, Jack White would start the show with Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground from the best White Stripes.
He also stands next to the drummer, his natural place for so long. I think at Meg for a split second. Carla Azar, the girl on drums is the opposite of Meg. Instead of leaving it to the pause, she fills any instant with a relentless drumming. Add to that a bass, a pedal steel, a violin, lot of keyboards and a couple of backing vocalists and this clearly will never sound as any other ensemlbe Jack played before.

Jack White doesn’t disown his past. He looks forward to reinterpreting it. He shows off his songs proudly. It is not a greatest hits set, every song is different from the way people know. It is a reappropriation of his songs merged with brilliant new tunes.
The new single Love Interruption, played on that delightful old acoustic guitar, shines as much as Hotel Yorba from White Blood Cells. Two Against One, from the disappointing album Rome, recorded in collaboration with Danger Mouse and Daniele Luppi gets revised. The ghost of Meg revives in We’re Going to be Friends.

He plays a lot of guitar. Opinions on Jack White have divided guitarists and music lovers for at least ten years. This fact in itself is enough to prove he has left a sign in rock. To find another guitarist which style influenced mainstream rock in such a recognisable way, we have to set the clock back twenty years and evoke Kurt Cobain or Tom Morello.
Jack White fathers are Jimi Hendrix and Jimmy Page this is as obvious as it is superficial. So it is no surprise to imagine his grandfathers playing the blues in cotton fields in the Delta.

There is more. White is an emotional musician. His style is all about impulse, temperament not technique. He isn’t precise and doesn’t need to be. The only thing he is obsessed with is the sound. It is more important than the notes. Stripping it to the bone Jack White belongs to the school of Jimi Hendrix and Neil Young rather than Van Halen or David Gilmour.
His solos are anomalous waves. They arrive all of a sudden and last as much as he feels.

The closing piece tonight is a raucous version of Ball and Biscuits . From his ice-cold Telecaster a downpour of saturated notes puts an end to any debate, the audience is gobsmacked.

Jack White is on a happy mood. He plays without compromise. You may thing such a setlist is a safe bet. To go through White Stripes, Raconteurs and Dead Weather hits protects him to face the reaction of his fans on the new stuff. I don’t think it is a planned strategy. There’s no answer because there is not a conceptual questions. Simply he wants to play his music and feels free to pick his favourite.

The encore, after the song that closes Blunderbuss, Take Me With You When You Go, offers a rich trio of crowd pleasing tunes. The White Stripes’ Doorbell, Raconteurs’ Caroline Drama and even Seven Nation Army that I didn’t think I would ever listen to, again, in this life. A riff which has become part of rock history next to Satisfaction, Money and Smoke on the Water.
Maybe the last riff.
Jack White salutes, acknowledges and thanks the faithful English audience with a folk piece borrowed from Leadbelly. Goodnight, Irene is his homage to London, the city who made him a rockstar.
Maybe the last rockstar.

Jack White on the net is at [website][third man records][facebook]

Photo tip

Color scheme. Light Scheme. All has been prepared and is matching on stage. Blue/grey/white and him, Jack White, dressed in black!

Lights are not easy. Blue-ish throughout. There is not a warm spot in sight. There is some magenta appearing here and there, maybe to match his eyes make-up but overall It is an ice-cold blue affair. #95B9C7 you know!

To shoot raw is a must do at any concert. If you are serious about your photography, you must shoot only and always raw files. Too much unpredictability to risk unworkable images. I’m telling this after many years I have been shooting filml.
At this concert raw is more important than ever. Having the flexibility to balance the whites in post production is essential to avoid that all the pictures look the same blue.

The white floor is something unusual and helps. It acts as a reflecting panel. It brightens up the shadows and gives roughly a stop to the otherwise dark conditions. I managed to increase the shutter speed to around 1/200s at f/2.8.
Jack White moves a lot on stage, unless you want a mic-in-the-face photo with him singing behind the microphone, it’s a typical hide and seek situation. The faster shutter minimize motion blur.

This was the hottest concert of the year so far. The news of the album setting N.1 both in USA and UK mark a milestone for White already rich career. There was a dozen of photographers in the pit. We had less than a dozen minutes to nail the moment. The first three songs were quick to switch lenses (another body would help). For me it was a 24-70mm one night stand.

On the train back home I look at the pics, moderately satisfied by the result. I regret the short time. I must be obsessed to get the perfect image as Jack White is to get the perfect sound. I am sure with more minutes and less pressure this gig has potential to deliver awesome images. I ‘imagined’ some incredible pictures during the show, after the third song. No one was allowed to take. Someone has to understand how this is damaging music and photography.

These photos have been successful and justified the train journey and a 3.30 AM post-editing. Published on the Guardian, The Independent, the Daily Telegraph, The Quietus, The 405 and several other websites I set my personal record. Ready for the next.

Kathleen Edwards

A quick one while I’m away… no no, nothing to do with The Who, neither that I’m going to follow be Kathleen Edwards back home in Canada. Quite the opposite, I’m off concerts for a few weeks, switched on to photojournalist mode and flew to Myanmar for some documentary photography.

I shot Kathleen Edwards at the lovely Islington Academy in London last February and would be a pity not to report from her nice show.

I didn’t know much about Kathleen Edwards too. Until the day NPR First Listen pre-streamed her new album, Voyageur, at the beginning of the year. It was the same day as First Aid Kit Lion’s Roar and that helped a lot my day at work. It also showed that 2012 has started awesome for female music.

As I typically do since Spotify, when I am attracted by a nice album, and Voyageur is a very nice album, I point to the streaming site and listen to the rest of the artist’s LPs.
What doesn’t really happen everytime is that I spend the rest of the night listening on loop to 4 albums. Everything Kathleen Edwards recorded.

Then I seeked info about the tour, I discovered it was going to happen soon (how much I love London, do you want to see someone you discover it is coming next to you).

I was lucky too. The405 offered me to go and shoot her show so I didn’t even have to fuss around searching for contact and convincing a PR that I am worth a photopass.

I said yes, I was on the list and on the day of the show I jumped on my usual after work train to London Kings Cross.
It’s nice to have a stroll from the station through Angel to get to the hidden (in a shopping centre) jewel which is the Islington Academy.

Last time I was here I shot the Walkmen in an amazing gig that also marked the last time my film cameras got to work. Exciting as sad moment. I thought about celebrating it going film for once again but I didn’t.

It’s nice to arrive there early, get a drink and sit on the leather sofas in the gallery upstairs. It has a wonderful view on the stage and, before the crowd, nice and relaxing music.

Kathleen Edwards has been around for almost 10 years and is well known and appreciated in Canada, the country where she is from. I am late, that’s renowned, so I am in the process of discovering her. Her guitar is full of writings I’d love to decrypt to know more about her.

Many more people are discovering this artists too. Because part of the rumours around Kathleen latest album arrive because of the fact that it has been produced together with her partner, Justin Vernon, which is in fact Mr Bon Iver.
Some sort of news have an impact and Vernon influence can be heard in the LP.

This shouldn’t and doesn’t obscure her value. Compared to her previous albums, the songs here are less constrained into a classic structure and pulse into more familiar Bon Iver musicscapes. Her music is inspired mainly by male rockers and female folksingers. She loves north American music. The landscapes. The grasslands. The vastity.

In Voyageur there is less place to solos and music jams. Instead of riding the rock’n'roll horse, more space is given to personal songwriting, call it the Bon Iver way.

The gig is a different task. Despite it rotates mainly around the songs of Voyageur, her partner is playing the other side of the world, somewhere in New Zealand, and Kathleen is with her solid band to enjoy her very personal and important London show.
The venue is full. There’s no Bon Iver T-Shirts around. There are fans of all ages. People is here for her and I am very curious to know why.

Live Kathleen Edwards reveals first of all her love for Neil Young. The music is indebted with her fellow countryman. The guitar has that raw sound that only Neil Young has been able to play so consistently for the last 40 years and brings imagery fresh air and muddy boots in the packed academy.

Echoes of rock’n'roll remind me of Sheryl Crow‘s best period pre-Eric Clapton. Her folk vein is what you expect from Lucinda Williams if jamming with Tom Petty‘s heartbreakers.

The heartbreaking moment arrives when she introduces House Full of Empty Rooms explaining it tells of a house she had to leave and the meaning of having a place to call home.

Kathleen Edwards write nice songs and sings them sincerely. She also plays very well the rocker part on the most upbeat moments, helped by the briallant band lead by Gord Tough on guitar.
It’s clear the chemistry she has with the musicians the way they alternate for solos and duets.

When she plays A Soft Place to Land Edwards on the violin I have moved back upstairs and enjoy the perspective on the stage from the balcony.

The show for almost two hours hasn’t had weak moments and convinced every person to have been part of a key moment of an artist’s career. A very deserved moment.
I had been waiting for Oh Canada, which is maybe my favourite of her songs, but it didn’t happen and it didn’t really mind.

I walk back to my train with it playing on my earphones.

Kathleen Edwards is online here [website][facebook][twitter][myspace][spotify]

Photo tip

It’s a classic of concerts. Those moments between songs when the music goes quiet and the artist does something else than strumming a guitar.
To shoot or not to shoot? As usual it depends of what is happening on stage.

To a photographer it’s a less intrusive and less distracting moment. But what about the picture?
There are mainly 3 situations.

The performer stops to have a sip.
I have seen them drinking everything, from water off a plastic bottle to a whisky shot.
Commonly is beer or wine but some pure British eccentrics are used to having a cup of tea.

Personally, after several attempts, I skip the plastic bottle and anything inside a plastic cup. Plastic doesn’t please my severe aesthetic. It doesn’t add that image that makes a concert gallery different. It disturbs.

I feel more comfortable with beer, wine and whisky. They are the rock’n'roll good stuff, aren’t they? I’ll may comeback to this when I get a proper pair of images to compare.

The chat.
Many artists like to chat between songs. Considering that photography has the disadvantage of not recording audio  (you may have noticed that), the problem with this photos is that it must be evident what is happening otherwise it will look just a bland photo of a musician not playing or a singer not singing.

It would have been a touching image catching Edwards tears introducing the song, but it was after the third so.. go guess.

The setting/tuning moment.
I am annoyed by this. It’s a compulsory attitude for some musicians but often it breaks the moment.

I assume it isn’t a critical step considering some guitarists ignore it. To tune a guitar every other song, pausing the moment, it’s something I’d justify only to change guitar tuning. In that case it’d be appropriate get another guitar, though.
By the way, tuning happens often. I shot it hundreds of time and I can’t remember to have used one of the photos (if my memory doesn’t fail). My suggestion is that you can rest and wait for the song to start.

What can be nice, instead, is when the musician deals with the pedal effects. It’s not a rule that applies everytime but in some occasions is the cool source for that different image photoeditors are after.

Reason it that when a guitarist kneels down to manipulate the effects she/he gets very close to you. For once the tilted angle of standing lower than the stage is cancelled. It’s possibile to close up and shoot a portrait with a wide angle which always give an unmatched sense of presence.

Another factor is ruled by the stage decorations. Some nice (and some ugly). If lucky to have only those analogic boxes, cables and setlist, it’s worth being ready to catch the moment.
If they have (as Kathleen Edwards did) a nice carpet, the pictures may be even nicer.

Things I avoid are towels, plastic bottles, leftovers and everything that doesn’t fit with the subject but messes up the composition.

A balanced photograph is the meeting point of lighting, subject and background. Photographs that forget the importance of the background aren’t usually strong. It must either be neutral or fit with the subject. A difficult thing to achieve at concerts where photographers’ control is close to nothing.

If the background completes the subject, it will boost the effect of the photo. If it is distracting, the eyes of the viewer will be attracted by it and move away from the subject.

Mark Lanegan Band

My personal Mark Lanegan saga doesn’t seem to have an end. Last week it reached its fifth chapter.
This is the number of times Mark Lanegan appears text and photos on this website, in on of his multitude of musical characters.

My first date with him was when he was dating Isobel Campbell. The first (or second?) album together was out. 2008. The beauty and the beast setting. The fairy tale. I shot them on b&w film at the Union Chapel. Nice gig, very dark lights.

The second time was not much later. He came back to London with Greg Dulli. The Gutter Twins collaboration; acoustic version. I got a photo pass for the show but when arrived to the Union Chapel (from Cambridge, not Angel!) I found an advice on the old wooden door of the church that all photography was forbidden. I enjoyed the gig and took some point and shot pics who made for a very different post.

About a year later, the third time. Lanegan was special guest of Soulsavers. Writing about that I conied the term Laneganize [anyone else's music] and ended up attacked by his fan club. I was still on 35mm film at the Electric Ballroom.

Fourth time Lanegan was playing a solo show, back at his beloved Union Chapel. A sort of “the blues enters the church” performance. It wasn’t proper solo, I have never seen him playing an instrument, but with just a defiled guitarist it was as stripped down as it can go and quite emotional. Shot on digital this time, but still B&W because there was only a red light from the gig to full darkness.

So this is the fifth time. You may believe I am a desperate fan, I am not actually. This is also the first time I saw Mark Lanegan Band. I missed his Bubblegum tour and I was distracted by something else to be at any Screaming Trees concert in the nineties, assuming there was any in Rome, Italy.

Tonight is London, the venue is Shepherds Bush Empire. If it wasn’t for the Bolshevik bureaucracy of the staff, it would be my favourite theatre in town to photograph live music.

Mark Lanegan isn’t only an anomaly of this blog (no one has appeared more than twice except him). He has been an anomaly of the music scene for the last 20 years.
After the Screaming Trees broke up, he has been involved in countless collaborations with completely different artists. From Stoner rock to avant-garde electronica to acoustic folk, he sang with them all.
Lanegan has always been generous on offering his baritone to anyone brave enough to match the music to such a dominant voice.

Brave. Because, and I come back to the point infuriating fans a couple of years ago, Lanegan voice is so centred, so unique, so overruling that any kind of music going with it is at risks of being ‘Laneganised’.
Some musicians (Isobel Campbell) handled it better than others (Soulsavers or UNKLE).

To have Lanegan on a record is surely a plus because there’s no voices like his and because he increases sales.
I am pretty sure that Isobel Campbell post Belle and Sebastian career, despite her good songwriting wouldn’t have gone any far without Lanegan. Even the best QOTSA album, Songs for the Deaf, must give big credits to him.

On a recent interview with the Quietus, Lanegan revealed his intimate side. He told nice anecdotes, he seems to have come to peace with his troubled past and confessed his inability to say no when offered a collaboration he likes.

Not considering the Screaming Trees, Lanegan discography is too large to be discussed here.

Me. I felt in love with him the day I heard the traditional Where did you sleep last night covered. A version hundred times better than the hundred times most famous Nirvana at the MTV unplugged.
Kurt Cobain is on back vocals on Lanegan’s, it says it all.

My favourite album goes to I’ll Take Care of You. Another cover from the album of the same title, but in addition to the amazing title, I do love his songs in Whisky for the Holy Ghost.

In 2004 Mark Lanegan Band released Bubblegum. It is the apex of all his discography and his most commercially successful release. Stellar collaborations including stoner rock legends as QOTSA/Kyuss Josh Homme and Nick Oliveri, Afghan Whigs’ Greg Dulli, her majesty PJ Harvey on vocal for few songs and many more help to build a solid sound and a larger following.

Lanegan voice never ceases to be central. To be there.

Blues Funeral (another great title) is Mark Lanegan first solo album in about 8 years. It came out in February and seems to have split Lanegan’s fans in two.
Newer fans are loving it. Old school ones seem to have doubts.

I am split in two too. At the first listening it didn’t really work. Comfortable with the most Laneganized songs, I was frowning upon the “let’s-take-a-new-direction” ones, especially that Ode to a Sad Disco which uses, anathema!, electronic drums and sampling.

I kept it on loop to get prepared to this gig thanks to the online streaming (the stream is still available here) the album made it into my head.

I am still not convinced by some of the songs but overall I am liking it then… You know what I do… I go and see the live thing.

Shepherds Bush Empire has been sold out for a long time. 4AD found a ticket for me very last minute thanks to someone pulling it out, (that) Bolshevik staff, differently from most London venues, doesn’t let you stay with the photopass for the gig if you don’t have a proper ticket. Even if you have a ticket you go through a series of procedure to leave your bag, get out from the backdoor, enter from the main… bla bla.

A twenty songs long setlist, starting at 21:30 implies I have no chances to take the 23:15 train in Kings Cross. I am relaxed and prepared for another late night out on the First Capital Connect train in the middle of the week, not counting it’ll happen again the day after for Jeff Mangum. Exhausting and brilliant!

Lanegan arrives on stage with a 4 band members. A classic line-up made of guitar, bass, drums apart a guy on keys + Apple PowerBook. Macintosh laptop is the ubiquitous instrument on stage nowadays.

Lanegan grasps the microphone pole. Left hand on the mic, right on the pole. It won’t move for the next couple of hours.

I’d like to be an expert of body language to read into the pose all the insecurity the man seem to face anytime he is on a stage.
Lanegan doesn’t seem a confident person. He never plays an instrument (can he actually play, considering he composes his songs?). He rarely speaks (he introduced the band tonight, though). He doesn’t interact with the public beyond a “thank you, I appreciate”. Everything is filtered by the voice as it was something not his. An extension, an instrument he can play. That voice is the artist Mark Lanegan. The rest is elusive.

Ode to a Sad Disco arrives towards the end. That’s a determining moment of the show and being the first London show with the band in years, it is a key moment of his career. London. His band. Presenting to your audience an audacious new direction of his music. Blogosphere is agitated and divided.
Mark’s nervous. He leaves the mic pole for the first time in 5 gigs. How did it go?

It was the best moment of the show.
I changed my mind and realized that what sounds a bit out of place on the CD, it is perfect on stage.

For once Lanegan de-Laneganized himself. After putting his trademark on everyone else’s music. He removed that trademark from his own. He is the brave one. Kudos.

Fans may have been displaced, but they were not. Lot of applause and Lanegan, who his a clever guy, didn’t do an electronic techno concert but fitted part of his show with new elements. He gave the gig a fresh breath.

The band follows him. Lanegan pays a bit the fact of not having a proper touring band since the Screaming Trees. It changes in the different phases. He has some stellar guests on CD that cannot always follow his tours.

The keyboard/laptop man is the responsible of these musical new twist and he’s the essential element of his 2012 band.
The guitarist is a bit lacklustre and the rhythm session doesn’t do anything more than a good job. I missed a Josh Homme, not the man, the riffs.

Mark is generous. People loves him. The 50 or so people still queuing inside the venue half an hour after the gig to have the album signed show a devotion that is rare in modern times. I had to leave to take the last train.

Mark Lanegan Band on [website][facebook][myspace][spotify]

Photo tip

With 5 concerts 2 on films, 2 on digital and one on a point a shot, I can dedicate a full phototip to “How to photograph Mark Lanegan“.

And it is not an easy task. Or it is the easiest. It depends what you expect from your photos.
Mark is charismatic as a performer and is attractive enough on his lone wolf pose to guarantee some good photos assuming you have a camera able to deal with the dark and you are not after variety. For a portrait he’s fantastic. For a photostory is a bit of a problem.

Mark Lanegan doesn’t play instruments. He stands. He holds the Mic pole and never moves from there.
Left hand is on the mic, right is on the pole. Check the tattoes on his hands, they seem to be there ready to be photographed.

Lights are fixed. For the joy of digital shooteer he constantly has a red light theme that doesn’t change. Some blue is added to the back.

Kneeling down allow a backlight to be covered by his head both sided, highlighting the hairs with a halo. It looks nice, assuming there is some light to lit up his face. Which often there is not. So that you have great hair (check the histogram may need some underexposure) with a flat face in the shadow. A fill in flash may help…  never tried, highly forbidden.

He moves the face from the mic when there are breaks in the lyrics. Follow the song, follow his body language. The left side, looking at the stage, is the best. That is where he turns the head, showing is immersed, grieving face. That is the moment to avoid the mic in face irritating portrait.

So far so good.
The rest is up to your focal length and colour setting.
Go wide to include the band, go telephoto for some close portrait.

Mark Lanegan will not surprise you doing something unexpected. Or at least it still has to happen to me. I tried B&W film, B&W digital, color (red/blue) and now sepia.
I will be there a sixth time, to see to which limit he’ll push me.

Laura Marling

The Guardian (and its Sunday brother, The Observer) are my favourite British newspapers.
When it comes to Laura Marling they get me confused.

On one side The Guardian have been praising Laura Marling music since her debut. Any of her albums had nothing less than 4 stars and so did most of her shows. She is constantly covered on the paper, got praised and often interviewed.
The Observer recently also gave away a nice compilation CD of her music for free. It sounds like a happy marriage.

On the other side, The Guardian has coined and overused the neologism New Boring. Originally created by Peter Robinson, one of its contributor and Popjustice editor.

It’s effective to define a new genre with a new term. A word which, at the same time, is ironical and judgmental. It’s the sort of combination that readers love, hence a success for journalism.
To be fair, the term New Boring originally pointed its invisible finger to popular acts as Adele, Coldplay and Mumford & Sons more than Laura Marling. Nevertheless she has often been thrown in that box. Incorrectly.

I don’t like genres definitions and even more the market need of new genres creation but, from a pure hilarious point of view to read: “The term New Boring [...] suggested pop’s Beige Wave – Adele, Mumford and Sons, cathedral-blighting folk simperer Laura Marling….” it makes me smile.

To complete this intro and aim to be (new) boring myself, there’s a pop/gossip side to this tale: Laura Marling rocambolesque love stories a few years back. A tale still not missed by the Guardian.
Very young, when she was back vocalist for Noah and The Whale she was in a relationship with the band lead singer Charlie Fink. After the band first album where she is credited, Laura left the collaboration and left Charlie Fink as well to get involved in another relationship.
Nothing interesting to the press, if the contender wasn’t Marcus Mumford, The leader of the competitor and fast growing band going to lead the brit-folk invasion in USA.

The split with Fink was very talked about and made ‘tearfully public’ when the second and best album by Noah and The Whale was released. First Days of Spring is Charly Fink sublimation of the grieve following the end of love with Laura Marling.

From the paper point of view, to “run with the hare and hunt with the hounds” (I had to look for this!) and throw into some celebrity gossip definitely works. It gets both lovers, detractors and gossip people interested in reading.
From Laura Marling point of view, she may be annoyed, but it works too. She is indeed one of the most covered artists in national newspapers. “As long as they speak about you is OK” there’s an Italian expression used for celebrities need to be on the spotlight.
From my point of view, I’m confused and all of this had me prejudicially prevented to get more information.

I also have a problem with the misuse of the term folk. Folk music in the last 10 years had a huge success. There is a commercial interest in defining folk. Everything that is played without a distorted guitar, regardless it’s rooted “enough” in popular culture to effectively play folk music.

Wendy Fonarow, the Indie Professor on her blog, still hosted by The Guardian, tried to address this point recently in another of her interesting posts/answers/lessons: “What do we mean by ‘folk’?” triggered by a tweet from Franz Ferdinand’s Alex Kapranos: “Is the folk thing finished yet?”

I went to check myself, you may have noticed this year started ‘folky’ with King Creosote and Jon Hopkins and First Aid Kit. Cambridge is the folk UK capital, I repeat everytime. Cambridge has the most important Folk Festival in July and Laura Marling headlined its latest edition last summer.

Laura Marling isn’t a proper folk artist to me. She uses acoustic guitars, she has been playing in folk bands but my orthodox point of view wants folk to be more rooted into popular influences in terms of music played and instruments used. Laura Marling, if you need a definition, sits in the acoustic pop which can be very relaxing (and very boring) mainly depending on the songs played.

It is my first time but, only 22 years old, Laura Marling is touring her third full length album: A Creature I Don’t Know. The album was out in late September not much after the release of her second, the multi awarded I speak because I Can. She has never been short of inspiration and, undoubtedly she has a gift on writing catchy songs or, more appropriately, on catching fans with her songs.

With a date at London most prestigious theatre later in the week, the 5000 capacity Apollo Hammersmith, this opening night of her UK tour in Cambridge, which follows a sunny Australian break, is long awaited, sold out and perfect for a general rehearsal.

Dressed in white, blonde hair on warm spotlights, with the band all around her in a shadowy dark blue background, the light engineer has been clear to highlight whose the leader here.
To come onto a stage with an acoustic guitar and play to a full theatre your personal stories, at 22 years old, isn’t something as straightforward as it looks. Imagine yourself, imagine your daughter doing this. It requires, nerves, self-confidence and, above all, skills.

Laura Marling, as her friend/enemy/rival Emmy Lee Moss, (aka Emmy the Great who I reviewed and photographed here) has got all of this. And she has enough songs to fill 90 minutes with no much more than her personality and music.
The band never manages to take the centre stage, not even when she introduce all of them one by one, including Pete Roe who was one of the support acts.
Laura is the star, the band help her shining.

The set starts around her latest album with a growing number of insertions from the past as it goes on. She kicks the band out for a solo moment which, if anything, emphasize her value.

I notice a song because when it starts I think it is a cover of Jose Gonzales’ Heartbeat used in the amazing advert of Sony Bravia some years ago. I am wrong, it is similar but it is called My Friends, one of the new tunes.

The concert has its sweet moment. Laura praise the internet and youtube videos and asks the audience to record and upload her birthday wishes for her sister 30th. The “permission” to video record doubled the hands up holding a smartphone. A modern times ritual of rock concerts getting out of control.

After Rambling man and nicely introducing the last song she prepares the audience there will not be an encores and let the concert close on the notes of I Speak Because I Can.

If you want to know more, Laura Marling online is here: [website][facebook][twitter][myspace][spotify]

Photo tip

This is a true and nice story, happened to me last Friday.
I was having my lunch break, I picked one of the newspapers available, The Independent, I flicked through the pages until I saw a Laura Marling review from the Hammersmith Apollo gig (the review is here but the picture was only on the paper edition). It had a large picture going with the article.
My first thought was, “wow, she played London with exactly the same lights and pose of Cambridge! I got similar shot to this”. The split second my eyes needed to get to the credits and I discovered that it was actually my photo. With my name bottom right!

At that time, I had just started writing this post about the Guardian and Laura Marling to find my shot of her was published on the Independent. Hilarious.

A photo taken in Cambridge, used for the London review it’s unusual and rewarding. To have been selected from the large bucket of available images that newspapers can browse including, I guess, the ones of her London Hammersmith show is satisfying.
If I was told and I rushed to a newsagent to pick up a copy, it wouldn’t be the same feeling.

It’s plenty of concert photographers at each gig. It’s very hard nowadays to get published on a national paper, especially on a large print. For several reasons. To get the right image of the right artist to the right person at the right moment is tricky.
I may be good at the first (self-confidence mode=on), but not at the rest. I shoot artists who I like to listen, usually far from mainstream. Instead of going home postediting the photos I stay to watch the show hence I am not always quick to send pics back to agency. I am very rigid on the selection, don’t shot many and select even less. If you know my portfolio, prefer more arty than clear and sellable images.

I am picky and stubborn. I don’t get overexcited by a success not put down by several failures. I keep doing what I like the way I like.
After several years in the field, I came to conclusion that solely concert photography can’t be a profession. There are not enough money to supply all the amazing photographers who are part of the circus.

The concert cake is tiny and must be shared in multiple slices. No one is going to be full with it. You’ve got to go for the wedding cake if you want to live as a photographer. There’s very few other options if you starting now.

There are also too many aspiring photographers giving away material for free. And even more bands, label, venues, promoter, magazines and everyone working for a profit in the field happy to compromise on quality to have freebies. Remember, if you give away photos for free once, people would expect photos for free forever, resist.

Yet there is some space to see gigs, to meet people, to connect, to learn and to have fun.
It’s about ten years I do this consistently. It cost me much more money than I earned but the adrenaline kick I have when the lights go down and it’s just me and the band in front of me for the next 10 minutes is something I’m not willing to give up just yet.

Kurt Vile

I took my time to discover Kurt Vile. I must admit I took my time to get into The War on Drugs too. Because Kurt Vile founded and was part of The War on Drugs before he took a different path. Musically they didn’t really take different paths, let’s say they keep walking side by side, but not hand in hand.

I missed Kurt Vile set at Primavera 2011. It was impossible to watch anything. I prefer concerts. Longer sets, the audience is more concentrate (it pays for that gig), the band know you’re there for them and give its best to make you enjoy the show and come back next time.

I bought Kurt Vile latest CD, Smoke Ring For My Halo, seduced by one of those FOPP 5£ offers (it was back to 9£ last Saturday). I listened to it a lot in the weeks before this gig.

There is something in there. Actually there is a lot from a musical perspective (what other perspective a CD must have? Whatever!). From Americana to fingerpicking; intimate songs and outburst of energy provided by the presence in the studio of his touring band, The Violators.
Also there isn’t something. The impalpable thing missing. The perception of a good album that can’t break into my heart.

My personal way to get that ‘thing’ is to go to the show. I know no better way to test a musician than live. It’s not a technical comment, it’s not because I want to check if he has good skills. Kurt Vile surely have and I am not in the position to recognise them. If a musician makes some errors or can make impossible things isn’t always obvious Kurt Vile isn’t John McLaughlin, yet is an impressive guitarist. Mine is an emotional thing.

Kurt Vile concert at Koko sold-out fast. He headlined one of the NME Awards 2012 nights. A rich line-up including Real Estate and the solo project of ex Spacemen3 founder Peter Kember known as Sonic Boom.

As tradition, Live on 35mm covers one artist at a time not a gig. I won’t talk about either of the supports. It is a good thing considering I found Real Estate boring and Sonic Boom electronic noise quite pointless after the first 10 minutes.

The expectations for Kurt Vile to resurrect a night that so far had been as mediocre as the Brit Awards broadcasted on ITV simultaneously were high.

It’s about 9 PM when he came on stage with the Violators, his band. They check that all pedals and cables are ok.
Kurt Vile and his band seem to share a passion for lo-fi, analogical devices and the same hairdresser.

When everything appear to be ready they disappear. Typical. For a couple of minutes (what does happen those 2 minutes in the changing room, anyone?) until the are acclaimed back on stage for the proper start. Rites of rock.

Kurt Vile comes back solo, acoustic guitar and those long hair hiding his face. The photographers’ joy. This set has been on the road for about a year and sounds solid from the start. I don’t know very well his early material but it’s evident from the beginning that the difference tonight isn’t between present and past, rather between the intimacy of the solo moments and the explosion of energy the band provides when it joins him.

Three guitars + drums without a bass player. Hard times for bassists. Even the softer ballads become electrifying rides. Guitars don’t play the same chords, they either overlap or run after each other relentless.

When Vile is with the Violators, he concentrates more on the singing. His guitar take a break, it gives more space to the other two. Vile instead reveals a deep, multifaceted voice which isn’t always obvious from the record. The balance works at perfection. One of those things I wanted to see live, checked.

When he is on his own, he has the control and, unexpectedly, the situation seems to slip off his hands. The guitar has the burden of holding onto the voice and it is the singing to pay the price. Kurt attention is on the playing. His voice seems to lose its impact, weakens and hides behind the chords and the fingerpicking. Vile hides behind his hair.

If it wasn’t for the reverb overdose the songs are filled, the way Vile modulates the singing has a lot to do with Bob Dylan. Something evident since The War on Drugs days. No mystery he loves and celebrates Mr Zimmerman. He does his own way, though, and he does it well.

Curiously, it is a cover of the other legend of American music, Bruce Springsteen, to mark the best moment of this great show.
When the wall of Violators guitars ride Downbound Train chords progression a perception of excitement growing in the audience is palpable. In less than a minute half the venue is singing along the chorus. Several people, many very young, wonder what song that is. The overlapping solos of the two other guitarists are raucous and advance uncompromisingly. No one can stop it.
After one of the best cover I heard in years, Kurt Vile made me want to listen to Bruce Springsteen more than the Boss has managed in the last 20 years.

Instead as soon as the main set closes, I had to walk to the Station to catch my train back home, skipping the encore. Twitter rumours say Peter Kember came back on stage to play Spacemen3 songs Hey Man and Amen with Kurt Vile and the Violators. I can’t find a video of this happening in London. I will blame First Capital Connect and National Rail for the rest of my life.

When an artist on stage makes me quote both Dylan and Springsteen in the same writing, when he manages to send some shivers to my spine with just honest songs and reverbed guitar music, when he can close a set covering Spacemen3 with one of the Spacemen3 in person, you know you have been part of something special.

Kurt Vile (of Philly) is proud of his Philadelphia origins as you can see in several nicks he pick for his presence on the web, here [website][facebook][twitter][myspace]

Photo tip

Talk to fellow photographers.

It can be because I am Italian, not even that outspoken for an average Italian to be sincere with you, but anytime I am in a pit I say hello to everyone and attempt to talk to other photographers. I have noticed that it is rare, many of us stay in a corner silently playing with a smartphone, waiting for the start.

For concert photographers a pit is like a boat for a sailor. Those 20-30 minutes we are in the same boat. A narrow space packed with people in love doing the same thing: shooting gigs. You may know someone but there are always new additions and very rarely we are all alone.

I found some very good friends in the pit. I got some nice professional contacts, I learnt a lot and even realized I was shoulder to shoulder with Ross Halfin or Steve Gullick. Useful to know, there’s not a better thing of shooting a gig with a great photographer. It is like having your own workshop. I would say it is even worth missing some pics to check what he’s doing.

You can learn watching others but also talking with others. Any photographer loves talking about photography, be sure. And you may have something to tell too. It is a take/give – win/win situation. Sometime we are the experienced and will answer questions, other we ask.

Problem. The first question between photographers in a pit is, 99% of the times, this: “Who are you shooting for?”

It used to annoy me, now I got used. Beyond the natural curiosity I see it as a way to investigate how hierarchically important you are even before asking your name. I never ask that. If you came across the question by someone, you now know it’s not me.

Competition. This is the biggest enemy between concert photographers. Some of us have an unpleasant attitude. They think to be better, to not have time for you. Some think to own the recipe of success. Sometimes are paranoid to the point of thinking you will steal their secrets so better reveal less as possible. With the amount of images and info online, this is nonsense.

There are no secrets, there are no geniuses. There is only experience and dedication. Overconfident people saying they are the best or explaining why they are doing better than you, means they are probably not. Because if you know and you think to be great you don’t need to show off saying you’re great. If they do, they have a problem.

They are not the majority. Most of us are a passionate bunch of friendly people.
Introduce yourself, ask a less intrusive question, and we won’t be on the defensive.

The funniest thing these days is that likely some of the photographers shooting next to you, are people you follow on Facebook or Twitter and you don’t know. It happened to me. Our nicks are not displaced on our photo pass sticker. Our gravatar is nowhere near our real face.

Next time you’re in the pit say hello, I’ll reply, we may have a chat, shoot the gig together and hang out for a beer after the third song.

First Aid Kit

I recently read the brilliant article by Maura Johnston on the Village Voice (suggested on twitter by Alex Ross) “How Not To Write About Female Musicians: A Handy Guide”.
Handy to avoid the middle-age man temptation to write about the two Swedish sisters, Klara and Johanna Söderberg, and concentrate on their promising musical project: First Aid Kit.

Scandinavian music after all is at its most popular peak since ABBA, although releasing much better records.

I was to photograph a first First Aid Kit concert at London Union Chapel more than two years ago with the editor of The Line Of Best Fit which is 5 years old today. Last minute he had to pull out obliterating my photopass with his decision, that also mean my set ended up being digital instead of film. (Not being resentful after all this time, I just checked my gmail to remember why I didn’t go in the end)!

Those days First Aid Kit were two teenage girls. Klara had to wait for school holidays to tour, Johanna had probably just finished it.
There was a lot of rumours in the blogosphere about this emerging acoustic folk duo who covered Fleet Foxes’ Tiger Mountain Peasant Song. Nordic music wasn’t yet hyped and folk revival was started among the others by Fleet Foxes themselves.

First Aid Kit debut, The Big Black & The Blue, was just out. A nice album that resembles a good fruit in need of some ripening.
Everything was in an unstable equilibrium. This could have been just another band redesigning the hippie fashion style of the sixties. The music, coupled with the bucolic image the girls transmitted, was going that direction.

During the American tour, they were noticed by Jack White, who never misses getting in touch with a duo made by young, pretty girls. As he did for his collaboration with the Smoke Fairies in 2009, he produced a 7” to First Aid Kit who recorded two covers, Universal Soldier and It Hurts Me Too for his Third Man Records. Experience experience.

Two years on from that debut; one year from White Nashville studio; school finished, the Lion’s Roar has just been published. As it happens these times, days before its release it was streamed on several websites and had a very positive response.
The songs sound brilliant and captivating as nothing else I have listened to this year. There’s not better way to show the potential of a band than releasing a convincing sophomore album. Lion’s Roar is indeed convincing.

First Aid Kit haven’t really moved from their style. The difference is that the music had time to ripen and the album has the songs. Not a couple of good singles as the previous, but ten solid tunes. Out of these the first three and the last two stand out.

Teenage innocence allows and justifies some overconfidence and, as often happens, who dares win.
They dedicate a song, Emmylou, to Johnny Cash and Emmylou Harris. The song has been praised by Rosanna Cash. There are collaborations including a precious cameo of Bright Eyes’ Conan Oberst on the closing track, King of the World, and what a track that is!

This First Aid Kit London gig was scheduled to happen at the small King’s College London Students’ Union. Tickets demand beyond expectations forced the organizers to move it to the larger and prestigious Scala.
(On a personal selfish note, delightful place of choice for my commuting from Cambridge to Kings Cross, thanks girls!)

Scala sold out too, which is a photographer’s problem. Happiness and relief caught me when I saw the barriers delimiting a photographers’ pit rarely present there.

While waiting for the girls from the comfort of the pit, I glance at the setlist. I noticed, Waltz for Richard a favourite from first album isn’t present. I also notice there is a song called Blue. Doubt… what ‘Blue’ is that? Smartphone + Google = problem sorted.
They have one song titled Blue in Lion’s Roar. I’m very bad at remembering titles but Blue is an unforgettable album (and song) by Joni Mitchell. Not a cover, the source of my worry, I read it as homage to Joni Mitchell, one artist they must have listened to a lot. Even more convinced ambition can be a good thing.

Klara enters first and stands on the right with her guitars; Johanna is on the left on red keyboards. They’re quite far one from the other. There’s a drummer and nothing else (if I understood well, it’s their brother).

Since the first notes it’s clear the concert will be about two wonderful voices.
I can’t say which of the two is my favourite, the way they modulate the singing make each songs special. The music is fairly simple. Klara’s guitar and Johanna’s keys aren’t more than simple melodies and plain harmonies.
The singing makes the songs. Both when alternate or when harmonize.

There are some highs in the show. The first is when the duo leaves their positions to stand close and delight the audience with a Ghost Town sang off microphones with the help of the audience. It can be seen as a show off, I loved it because it was the only moment the two girls played next to each other and had an incredible feedback by the singing crowd.

Johanna leaves his keys to play New Year’s Eve with an autoharp, instrument unknown to modern music since PJ Harvey shook England.

There are some light moments during the show, songs that have been written with radio coverage and charts in mind but there is nothing wrong with it because all First Aid Kit tunes sound genuine.
Indie musicians know that the other thing their audience love, beyond the quality of the music, is the sincerity they put in songs.

The duo find the time to introduce the brother and even tell their father who’s at the sound desk. I think at the tour bus as a nice family campervan on the road throughout the world.

Not on the original setlist, Kings of the World can’t be forgotten and it closes the two songs encore on a high.

I stop at the merchandise desk to buy a copy of the album. I always try to buy from the hands of the band and I am on the train with a nicely dedicated copy. Win.

If you still haven’t been in touch with the lovely tunes of First Aid Kit why don’t start from here [website][facebook][twitter][myspace][spotify]

photo tip

What was beautiful at this show musicwise, it wasn’t photography-wise.
Nothing intentional. Simply stating a sad reality.

The first three songs where the shyest part of the show. Quite understandable for two young girls headlining their biggest concert in the most important capital of live music.
So why promoters and tour managers, whoever is responsible, can’t understand this?

The autoharp moment would make some beautiful neoclassical portrait of Johanna in her medioeval, green, velvet dress. It went unreported. As for Ghost Town sang without the nasty microphones covering their faces, it was listed at number 8 then missed by pit photographers and left to snappers.

The encore had much more dynamics. Johanna assaulted her keys as Beach House Victoria Legrand. The moment she finally mistreated her instrument and got is hair in the air was raucous. It couldn’t be photographed.

None of the best moments of this show have been recorded by a proper photographer and this was because none of this happened in the first three songs.

This is not sad only for our portfolios or magazines wanting the best images from us, it is bad for the band and for the fans who want to live the real atmosphere of a wonderful gig again and have to face the reality that the first 10 minutes left to photograph it do not represent it at all.