Review: Mr Hudson

Friday 14th May, 8.00 at The Junction. 

CATHERINE PELTON enjoyed her night… 

We were lucky enough to see Mr Hudson perform at the Junction on Friday night, albeit to the usual eclectic assortment of school kids, escaped students and 40-something ravers: not a promising crowd. The warm up acts were even less promising – having been beside myself with excitement at the prospect of seeing the one and only Tinie Tempah live, I had to settle for the similarly-named Tinny Ten, whose grimy rap could not live up to the joys of ‘Pass Out’. 

However, things started to look up when the startlingly pale Benjamin Hudson L. McIldowie, aka Mr Hudson, took to the stage. Although his new album, ‘Straight No Chaser’, is somewhat lackluster compared his previous ‘A Tale of Two Cities’, the live performance was nothing short of brilliant.  A solid backing band and a gutsy female vocalist lent their strength to well-known singles ‘Supernova’ and ‘White Lies’, while lesser-known tracks such as ‘Time’ and ‘Stiff upper lip’ still managed to excite the crowd. 

These, combined with a couple of Hudson’s older tracks and the crowd-pleasing closing number ‘Forever Young’ provided a stellar set, and it was much to everyone’s disappointment when it drew to a close rather prematurely before 11 o’clock. 

OSCAR HARRY was relieved to make an early get away…

I was in Wednesday's pants when given a reason to put on trousers at about 6:30pm Friday, textually summoned by the Tab to replace a fallen reviewer. (Rest in peace Barry, whoever you may be.) 

Half an hour before Pocket Lips came on, I was not the guest list. During their set, I was still not on the guest-list. The vapid staff were very kind to the smelly moocher, insisting he be allowed in for free, but counter-insisting that he wasn't on the list nor could he look at it. Unsure what to do, I went outside for fag.

If you're reading this mum, firstly I don't smoke; it's just I can't publicly confess being unable to phone a single friend to accept a free concert ticket at the cost of an evening in my company. Secondly, don't google my name you suffocating bitch. 

I went back to the doormen,they hadn't heard anything from HQ. However I caught sight of my name on the list. Allegedly, that wasn't written there before, but also none of them had written it.  I didn't question this guest-list fairy double-think and I was inside with time to see grime group, Tenny Ten. The crowd was nearly entirely children, with dads lining the back wall. Even though I have a chronic case of Judaism, I could see over every head. There is nothing wrong with kids at live music but a problem occurs when they outnumber the humans. They barely drink and are too poor to get good drugs. This means that they are too shy to dance or sing along or do anything other than flick back their stupid fucking indie hair.

Tenny Ten did their best, the music was well produced and catchy, the lyrics weren't too naff and they even kept straight faces while singing “you should be in a magazine” to screeching girls. Despite this valiant effort it ultimately felt awkward to watch men rapping to individuals considered mentally unequipped to understand Scary Movie (rated 15).

Then Mr Hudson started singing and the level of energy soared to dizzyingly tepid. A boy in front of me raised his hands. Hudson is pop and maybe on a radio or in a club I might even enjoy it but stood amidst swaying minors without sleeping for 30 hours I found it hard not to pass out or sleep, perchance to dream.

Moving swiftly on, the midgets all went bananas for some crooning song that repeated the word 'lying' a lot.  It wasn't all bad though… 

Luckily, a boy got my attention and indicated a collapsed fat girl by my feet, whom perhaps I should have noticed but I was too busy trying to work out if I were a paedophile for looking at a bum that was certainly old enough to play the lottery but probably not enough to vote. By virtue of being above 17 I was deemed responsible so I hoisted the chubby collapseé to her feet and helped/dragged her outside. A mob of her friends came out and circled her so I never found out if she died.

Here's hoping the tubby angel didn't, because the Junction has a no re-admittance policy for the last hour and thus through her inability to bear her own weight, I was free. I'd have had more fun if I'd gone to a kindergarten instead.