The King Blues at Shepherds Bush Empire

The King Blues – Shepherds Bush Empire – 27 April 2010

Words by Alice Edy / photos by Marcus Maschwitz

The King Blues – The Only Reason I Scream and Shout is ’cause I Care So Much…

April 27th 1987: I was born, pink, slimy and screaming, somewhere in Johannesburg, in the depths of apartheid South Africa.

April 27th 1994: Nelson Mandela became the first democratically elected president of what has since become affectionately referred to as ‘The New’ South Africa, or ‘The Rainbow Nation’. It is now celebrated every year, as Freedom Day. (…Oh, and I turned 7, and got a sweet bike).

April 27th 2010: I stood in the crowd at the Shepherd’s Bush Empire, alone and far away from home – in cold London Town, not knowing what to expect from some band calling themselves The King Blues…

Before the band played, they had invited the mother of an ‘alternative’ girl (that’s code for goth/punk/individual) to speak about how her daughter was attacked and murdered, for no reason except that she looked different – she was perceived as ‘The Other’, and therefore a threat. Her killers were not interested in her insides, only intimidated because her exterior did not match their own … After this, the band and some guest speakers also spoke to the audience, raising political issues focusing on the then-upcoming election. Introspection often brings with it uncomfortable truths (god-forbid that we should have to face our own indifference); so let’s be honest, ‘deep shit’ is not the best party-starter…which is why I respect TKB all the more for doing it. Most bands are far more concerned with their own rock-star image and the success of their show, (one big artistic-pseudo-punk-wank), that they do not want to risk actually challenging their fans, or engaging them in political/social debate of any kind. Also, most audiences don’t like the inconvenience of having to form their own opinions, and would far rather have another drink, and let someone else worry about irrelevant issues like government policy, and pesky things like human rights (or the lack thereof). It takes balls to speak, but it takes as much courage, I think, to really listen. Tonight, this band and their crowd were on form.

When The King Blues started playing, it was one of the best shows I have seen in a long time – a chaotic, crazy (but tight) blur of Ska-Punk-Rock-Reggae-with-MCing (…shit, I don’t know genres – it seems strangely ironic to start compartmentalising them). The set was a plain backdrop with the band’s name across some buildings; down-to-earth and unpretentious – like the music. Their lyrics, however, were complex, fast, funny, intelligent, and inspiring. The KB played in that elusive space between self-expression and self-destruction… they make you want to run into the streets and start a revolution, to riot and to march, and to change the world – yet, somehow, in a way that doesn’t hurt anyone. They are fighting for Love. You forget that outside that room such things as ‘bad people’ exist; it seems impossible to imagine that anyone is capable of cruelty. I could only see happy, positive faces, all shouting their hearts out, strangers dancing together, and on everybody’s lips the same desperate, simple, overwhelming plea: ‘Why don’t we just stop being assholes to each other?’ In perhaps the best example of this seemingly incongruous union of violence and kindness, the singer asked the crowd to sing along that ‘it’ felt like a head-butt… I didn’t know what ‘it’ was – and was expecting a song about some kind of brutality – so what followed came as a total shock; a kiss. The entire show served as a reminder that yes, giving a shit hurts, but never as much as apathy. Our hope is what keeps us alive; that last bit of fight…because it’s when you stop caring that you truly have nothing left.

Leading up to 1994 , from Trafalgar Square to Soweto, regular people, like you and me, were rioting for the future of a nation without Technicolor. People fought and many died; there were innumerable ‘disappearances’ during detention, people ‘fell’ out of buildings during questioning, and Nelson Mandela spent 27 years in prison, so that people could stop living like 2nd class human beings, and we could finally live in a country where nobody gives a fuck about your Pantone. He became President, and freed both the oppressed, as well as their oppressors. It’s still a work in progress, but the worst is long over, thanks to so many people who never gave up fighting for what is right, and never lost their love in the face of an ugly world. 16 years later, it is April 27th, and somewhere that I call home, right at the bottom of Africa, it is Freedom Day. Somewhere in London, there is also a celebration of that emancipation. The King Blues play music that is a fitting tribute to such ideas because their voice is not retrospective – they speak about principles that are alive, both political and personal, thereby adding fuel to the fire. They sing about Liberty in the present-tense.

Where do I fit in? 23 years later I’m still screaming – and tonight night it was along with a band who unknowingly played the best tribute to The Struggle that I have ever heard. Thank you.

Setlist: Intro, Blood, Landlord, Headbutt, Music Man, Kissing Frogs, I Got Love, Everything Happens For A Reason, Streets, Out of Luck, Lampost, My Boulder, Holiday, Bonkers, Save The World, Poems, Taking Over