Gig Review: Montgolfier Brothers Manchester Central Library Reading Room May 15 2014

Gigs by the Montgolfier Brothers don’t come round very often these days and it seems like it takes being part of something significant to see them perform.  The grandeur of Manchester Central Library, hosting this as part of the Hey! Manchester Festival was the backdrop to tonight’s set.  Earlier, documentaries of Manchester’s past had been aired (although not watched by me who was late getting away from children handover duties).

The three albums to date are peppered with instrumentals that could accompany a social documentary although they rarely get a live airing.  However, tonight’s opener don’t get upset if I is stripped of its fly by night throwaway lines and strums us in gently.  Next is the pre-recorded spoken word quite an adventure,  featuring the late Dave Campion's living memories of aspects of Manchester life in the fifties.  The ‘acoustics’ of the newly renovated reading room certainly don’t need any further testing; unlike previous visits, the whole floor didn’t know about it when I pulled up a chair.

 The last LP, 2005’s All my Bad Thoughts, from which all but one of tonight’s songs are lifted from,  sometimes have a fallen narrative voice whose expressions of ill will seem implicitly contrasted with characteristics of  more positive and thriving past generations.  Koffee Pot has a palpitating undercurrent and a reflective sadness that brings to mind some of Low’s moments. Journey’s End, with its reflections on mortality seems to be given an added spiritual dimension being played in this space with its elevated glass dome ceiling beaming in its evening light.

It’s fair to say that there hasn’t been a great well of idealism in their lyrics unless you count those soon to be eclipsed first verses of the World is Flat. But situated in a library we are reminded of the wealth of knowledge contained within and Roger beckons the audience to check all this out.  Behind them as the threesome play out with It’s over, it’s ended, it’s finished, it’s done (which was pre-empted it with a suggestion that they may not play it if there are enough refuseniks), some attendees wander about and peruse the bookshelves, a testimony to a more literate Manchester music heritage.