Lostprophets

Well, what can I say about Lostprophets? The problem is not much, which is why this is one of the hardest reviews I've had to do in my career so far. Lostprophets are one of that genre where it almost seems like they’re making an effort to be sickeningly bland. The Engine Shed is a great venue with atmosphere to the nines and although Lostprophets' music is the least diverse going I have to admit they're bringing a wide array of different shades of people. You've got what you expect to see at a Lostprophets gig; old school nineties 'greebos' with stripy, long glove things on their arms and piercings in their trousers. Then some archetypal chavs came in, only one or two but it helped add to the gene pool. Hipsters, with their spiky hair; Middle aged couples, with an odd look of complete confusion.



All of them where waiting for two things, two little singles going by the names of 'Last Train Home' and 'Rooftops'. Other than that almost everyone (except a particularly wrist banded pop-rocker directly in front of me) in sight could hardly give two shits about what was going on on stage and seemed to even have a difficult time politely tapping their feet. Well, I say everyone but the front few lines of foaming, teeny, female airheads where jumping with the requisite measure of pride in how much their tits jiggled in their rock god's faces.

You can tell how much disdain I have for this kind of music can't you? Stage presence isn't the issue; band members pirouette round the stage and generally claw around like Gollum on speed. No, the issue is two things. Songwriting, and sound set up. We've all heard the Lostprophets; they're barely exciting (unless you think Kerrang is a revolutionary journal). Each song sails into each other with bread and butter riffs and structuring giving a horrible effect of a whole show which sounds like they're just shaking up lemonade bottles, then letting them off one by one with some Welsh puff sprouting some wailing over it. This much I take back, Ian Watkins has a fantastic voice and is the only redeeming feature about the whole group's greyscale set.



Now Lostprophets are capable of writing good material, such as 'Shinobi vs. Dragon Ninja' from their first record but none of that seemed to be in attendance that evening; and as a result I certainly didn't want to be in attendance. Ian and his boys can indeed communicate with the crowd though, turning the show into an almost comedy night of sorts as it neared it s finale. The band started telling in turn different jokes as the drummer kicked out the 'bad-dum-tish!' at the end of each. This was the highlight of the gig so far despite being depressingly unfunny.

Incidentally this concert marked the band's final of the year; and as such their last gig in a decade (which they made a point of repeating over and over) I can only hope they don't bother returning; simply to cover my own arse if I have to review them again; I can't recommend this band's show to anyone. It's messy, boring, sweaty and pointless and anything beyond those four words is embellishment for word count; controversial perhaps, but worryingly true. Lostprophets even knew it, leaving their big singles until late in the set so people couldn't nip home early to catch Eastenders or something. Rock 'n' Roll.

FUTURE GIGS

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