The The, Brixton 02
Review and picture by Angelica Campion

Matt Johnson, aka the band The The is playing at the O2 in Brixton and I’m going. This show, and the others, sold out in minutes as they haven’t played live since being guests of David Bowie at the Royal Festival Hall in 2002. I will have to get the last train home, it’s going to be tight.

St Leonards Warrior Square station then. I love the refurbished Royal pub opposite it, and the parking is only £2 for a whole day. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Westminster council, with your 5 quid a minute parking charges. This is where the benefits of Warrior Square station end though.

Today the ticket office is closed yet again and the ticket machine is out of order. There’s a threatening sign for those travelling without a ticket. The destination board malfunctions and appears to be in Japanese, and rail workers in orange hi-vis look baffled as an alarm continually beeps. Mercifully the coffee shop is padlocked, so I don’t have to buy a scalding watery coffee and to top it off, black and yellow crime scene tape is stuck on the platform seating. They should have encircled the whole station while they were at it.

We know that toilets on trains are revolting and have no loo paper, but did you know the only employee on the train is not only issuing tickets, manning the doors, and blowing the whistle but  actually driving the train at the same time?

It takes 1hr 33mins to get to London Bridge, then the sardine rush-hour tube to Brixton. I am meeting the infamous Tom Wilcox, previous managing director of the Whitechapel Gallery, singer off of post-punk band Maniac Squat (don’t look this music up if you are of a nervous disposition) and friend of Matt Johnson. We take our balcony seats. Tom says Matt’s father died three days ago but his dad made him promise the shows would go on. I think financial ruin might have swung it.

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Here we go! Matt Johnson walks on stage holding the hand of his six year-old and 4,900 people roar. He tells us that little George had asked him “Daddy, what do you actually DO?” So he thought he’d show him.

Songs I’ve loved for ever, I hear played live for the first time.

In between, Matt talks about his hatred of phones at gigs and asks us not to wave them about and could we not talk either? I have mixed feeling about this. When I produced a long running live music show, performers who moaned if no one listened to them were not invited back. A certain Robyn Hitchcock (written about in this paper last week) was one of these.  If no one listens to you, love, it’s because you’re not grabbing their attention and who’s fault is that eh?

We all put our phones down but get them out again when we think Matt’s not looking. The woman behind me repeatedly kicks my chair as I try to take a pic for this article. I ignore her until she deliberately throws her entire drink down my back in the middle of This Is The Day. Tom and I remove ourselves, point her out to security, and we’re re-seated in the reserved front row, thank you.

This show was a great thing to see and Matt Johnson is a musical genius. Force me to be picky, it needed a female backing singer and the lengthy piano solo on Uncertain Smile (on the original recording it is by Jools Holland) should have been louder when let’s face it, that’s what the fans have come to hear.

Tom gets us into the after-show VIP bar where the six year-old is the only person we recognise. I look at the time. My pumpkin is due to explode and the slow train to dawn is calling.

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Brixton High Street, 11.15pm. No taxi in sight. Walk to the underground. I make a fatal stupid tourist error, believing a man who says yes this is the London Bridge branch of the Northern line. I get off at Kennington and chance going up to street level.

No cabs. Feeling a heart attack coming on, it’s 20 mins to go before the last train to Hastings and I have no back up plan. (Hi! I know it’s midnight but can I come and stay? Lol). Mouth is so dry with anxiety I can’t swallow. Five precious minutes go by. But wait what’s this? A Yellow Light! Christ, I’m saved! The driver is nonchalant – don’t worry love! His words offer no comfort until I see The Shard glimmering in the dark. I bomb into the building site station and run the wrong way. I get to the platform with two minutes to spare. I’m home by 1.45am.

I know it’s not worth all the effort and stress. But really, it is.

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https://www.hastingsindependentpress.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/REV-TheTheSQ.jpghttps://www.hastingsindependentpress.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/REV-TheTheSQ-150x150.jpgHIPReviewsBrixton 02,Matt Johnson,The TheThe The, Brixton 02 Review and picture by Angelica Campion Matt Johnson, aka the band The The is playing at the O2 in Brixton and I’m going. This show, and the others, sold out in minutes as they haven’t played live since being guests of David Bowie at the Royal...The Hastings & St Leonards non-profit community newspaper