There was a multitude of expectations and projections swimming around Festival Hall tonight. A strong contingent of star-gazing adorers were in attendance, whose Courtney-fandom would stand firm no matter what unfolded on stage. Then there were those harbouring a level of sadistic skepticism, as if hoping to witness an on-stage train wreck. Also, the fact that the Californian troublemaker hasn’t been out here since 1999 meant for some this would be the realisation of a lifelong dream. The room was filled out by more casual Hole fans, who were simply here for a nostalgia fix.
With little fanfare, Love walked out at the scheduled time, looking as though she’d just raided the wardrobe on Seinfeld’s ‘puffy-shirt’ episode. It wasn’t long before the pirate attire had been discarded and Love performed the remainder of the show in her undergarments. She’s still in trim shape and not afraid to flaunt what she’s got. Although, when an audience member’s cry for her to “talk to us” was misheard as a request to reveal her breasts, Love quickly snapped that she’s 50-years old with a 21-year-old daughter, so it wasn’t going happen.
There was a guitar hanging over at different points of the evening, but her irregular stabs at it appeared merely incidental. That wasn’t a hindrance, however, as the four-piece band of rock dudes executed all of the distortion-driven arrangements without fault.
In addition to a recent double A-side single, during the last decade Love’s released one solo record and one record with Hole. It’s not woeful music, but it’s doubtful that it’s changed anyone’s life. She mightn’t like to admit it in so many words, but this event’s eyebrow-raising ticket price would only be justified if the set list focused on Hole’s iconic 1990s material. Thankfully, that’s largely what we got.
Not long into the night’s second number, Miss World, Love and her band made it clear that time hasn’t dampened the vitality of Hole songs. Plump, Violet, Malibu, and a snarling cover of Fleetwood Mac’s Gold Dust Woman, soon followed and both devotees and skeptics found themselves swept up in a first-class rock show.
OK, so the band’s got its shit together, the setlist is ticking all the right boxes, but what about Courtney’s number one weapon – her voice? Well, who knows what’s let it survive to this day, but her still-sexy melodic growl and larynx-grating high-pitched scream sounded ready to conquer rock music all over again.
It’s fair to say that Love’s other main selling point is her public outspokenness. Fans of all varieties were probably hoping for something controversial to report upon. The banter was characteristically uncouth – including flippant drug references and acerbic remarks directed at audience members – but it wasn’t overly eccentric. In fact, more than anything, Love was hugely personable and perceptibly happy to be performing for such a loving crowd.
Nowhere was that mutual appreciation in greater effect than during the night’s closing number, Doll Parts. All pre-gig reservations became a distant memory as Festival Hall transformed into a pool of ecstatic backing vocalists, screaming “Someday, you will ache like ache.”
BY AUGUSTUS WELBY
Photo by Ian Laidlaw
Loved: Courtneyed.
Hated: The guy who wouldn’t shut up about Courtney killing Kurt.
Drank: Beer, poured into cup.
