NEW YORK -- Mark E. Smith, sporting what looked to be a genuine,
old-fashioned shiner on one eye, sullenly planted himself front- and center-
stage at Coney Island High on Monday night.
The singer for the arty, British post-punk
rockers the Fall, Smith then proceeded
to chew gum, pick his nose and deliver a 90-minute mix of the band's old and
new material, including a 20-minute rendition of "Hip Priest," without so much as
changing his facial expression. It was as if he felt that to be the extent of his
duty.
Although he is the leader of a band that seems to specialize in irony, Smith was
a little less sardonic and a little more catatonic than one might have hoped as
he fronted the Fall's performance on Monday night. Regardless of Smith's
demeanor, the sold-out crowd's attention never faltered throughout the set.
Smith's normally near-intelligible vocal style mutated into a mumble reminiscent
of the late, profane Beat Generation writer William Burroughs. There were extra
syllables added at the end of words (as in "totally wired-eh" or "curious orange-
eh"), augmented by a host of other odd sounds that might have been an arcane
language.
Most of the audience -- looking old enough to have lived through punk's first
wave in the '70s, the era out of which the Fall rose to some acclaim with albums
such as Live at the Witch Trials and Grotesque (After the Gramme)
-- absorbed the show in rapt silence as if they were satisfied by being in mere
proximity to one of rock's most prolific and intelligent practitioners.
However, a handful of fans made their dissenting opinions known.
One of the few women in the audience summed up Smith's attitude as "I'm
better than you with both brains tied behind my back." And in one break
between songs, a distraught fan yelled, "Get your shit together, you fucking
suck-asses!"
This is not to say that the show was devoid of emotional high points. "Hip Priest"
seemed to spark some energy in Smith and the crowd, making people actually
want to move a little for a few minutes. At times, it felt like an '80s flashback. A
drum-machine track was occasionally audible alongside the live drums.
Keyboard strains worthy of Duran Duran wove their way around the Fall's
quirky, chunky rhythms.
But, at about the 45-minute mark, as if to squelch any momentum he had
inadvertently gathered, Smith announced that the band would be back after a
short break. The patrons faithfully stayed put, and the band returned after just
about 90 seconds. Several fans observed that it was plenty of time for Smith to
have fired his long-suffering band and then rehire them.
However, Smith managed to find some energy again with "Free Range," which,
at least, got the crowd to bob their heads to the beat.
As the Fall's set blew right on past 1 a.m. without slowing down, Coney Island
High remained packed. A mere trickle of thirtysomethings reluctantly headed for
the door to get some sleep before the next day's work.
It's no mean feat to sell out a show and keep an audience enraptured for an
hour and a half when, to all appearances, no one is actually having any fun.
On the other hand, as one concert-goer remarked, "The band might actually be
having fun. Remember -- they're British."
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