BRITISH SEA POWER AT THE DAZED
AND CONFUSED AWARDS

A semi-official report from Our Correspondent

On 24 January 2002 - a listless, damp evening - British Sea Power performed at the annual Dazed & Confused awards evening at London's Great Eastern Hotel. In full, the event was staged under the most poetical nomenclature: The Orange/Dazed & Confused Big Break Awards VIP Ceremony. Thus, the band were given fair warning of all implications.

There it was, for all to see. Diabolical connection with txt mssgng and ether-distorting arpeggios disturbing the calm on the 4.47 to Cooksbridge. British Sea Power remained unafraid. Their imperious calm was even untroubled when one of the Orange representatives walked over during soundcheck to say the band wouldn't be able to have their usual plastic Heron and Eagle Owl onstage. Oh, yes? Such symbols of Nature and the Bialowieza, oldest primeval forest in Europe, were surely in opposition to the dread spectre of mankind listlessly conjoining with convenience technology. But which would hold sway tonight?

The band do, in fact, endorse the use of electricity and the PA system was impressive. Hamilton offered a pleasing new song snippet during soundcheck. "We need some good boys," it went. "We need some reliable boys." Doors opened at 8.00pm and champagne and bottled water were freely available to both prince and pauper, while the DJ skilfully mixed the world's most nondescript deep house. He may even have included such sought-after 12-inch
recordings as Jazz Beats (Jazz Odyssey Mix).

The awards themselves were in honour of the best in new hotography, graphic design, fashion, music and wearable technology. Notably, one award was presented by Stella McCartney, another by Peter Saville, esteemed roué and the man who made sure New Order made no money from their Blue Monday single. The Orange spokesman talked ill-advisedly about "imagineering" and one of
the winners looked very much like the heroic Pete Wiggs of Saint Etienne. All the while, examples of the prize-winning artkunst were displayed throughout the ballroom. "I have to wear designer clothes," posited one, following this with the powerfully contradictory statement, "I can't buy expensive clothes." This is art, this is life, this is love, beaten to the ground but breathing still.

As British Sea Power prepared to take the stage, the DJ gamely attempted to make them feel at home by playing Bauhaus's Bela Lugosi's Dead. As H Hour approached, the stage set was prepared by Alice, Flora and Ruth the band's renowned Lady Stage Technicians. The Patrick Mooreheads, as the trio bill themselves, were resplendent in red headscarves and one-piece overalls, like
real-gone teenage Stakhanovites tending lathes on the far side of the Urals. All the while, they arranged branch and box with a craft and resolve that made you believe they could lift a cymbal stand as well as any man. And dang me if that little old plastic owl wasn't there after all!

Heralded by a 1948 recording of C Day Lewis delivering his poem Do Not Expect Again A Phoenix Hour, BSP began their set with a disciplined reading of Spirit Of St Louis. Seasoned BSP watchers would have immediately alighted on the band's stage wear. Reverting from the Winter Campaign clothing of their previous show - snow suits, must-have white trousers - the band were back with their typical blue serge jerkins, a 'look' that the cognoscenti already know as The Militant Cabin Boy. Naturally rebellious frontman Yan,
however, opted to 'go commando' in T-shirt and man-skirt. And if the band were looking fine, they were sounding better. Fear Of Drowning and Remember Me lit up the compact four-song set, driven on by Wood's drumming, as urgent as a man baling water in a Force 11 off Finisterre.

The closing Lately was played and sung in euphoric style. Guitar man Noble alternately stood high on a speaker and then presented evergreen foliage to the audience. The song came to a climax in front of a rudely dismantled drumkit, while Yan delivered a new 'rap' section, like Sir Ernest Shackleton giving an inspirational reading of the collected works of the Kool Keith. The band left the stage with confusion and ascension hanging in the air. It was clear that they had successfully navigated this tricky engagement. Here were the tensions of the Yalta conference, the story of the Remagen bridge and the full astonishing scope of the triumphant Norwegian attack on the Norsk Hydro heavy-water facilities. A tale of victory, courage and despair, this is the total history of the devastating events with which the concert thundered to a close.

Beachcomber