Recoil: A Strange Night In Budapest (2012)

They say you should never meet your heroes, an assertion to which I casually retort ‘yeah tell that to Mark Chapman’, a confused and somewhat controversial response which tends to result in either violent or disgusted reactions. I’m sharing this fascinating retort with you as I have some special news to report, in a break from narrative tradition I took in a concert film this week within the art-house facility of the Everyman Cinema in Islington, a new venue for me that has consistently eluded my attention, but when a best friend demanded that I accompany him to view a screening of the concert film of Recoil: A Strange Night In Budapest I was powerless to refuse. For the uninitiated Recoil  is the solo imprint of Alan Wilder, the one time musical maestro behind popular electronica beat combo Depeche Mode, one of my all time favourite bands whom in my humble opinion have never truly recovered from his split with the band following the arduous World Devotional tour way back in the midst of time – or 1995 to be more precise. Here’s a taster of the new film;

You may recall I saw Recoil  a couple of years ago and this is the crowd sourced and funded capture of the Budapest leg of his modest 2010 tour, Wilder has released a handful of albums since his spilt from the Mode twenty years ago, whilst his work might be an acquired taste we ancient Modettes still follow his aural stylings with a cultish glee, although personally I prefer his earlier, funnier work;

The concert film is perfectly serviceable – wide shot of crowd, cut to musicians playing, mix things up with some inserts of the background gig visuals, splice with further crowd details before back to the wide shot – but of course the music is the most important thing and the sound quality was excellent if this slightly esoteric strain of electronic chords and sampling floats your emulator boat – set lists for those interested here, you can pick up your own copy here – highly recommended. The event was an agreeable and good-natured if slightly unattended affair, this was obviously the haunt of die-hard fans but in the final analysis that generated a more intimate sense of fun, as Wilder himself welcomed us into the venue and conducted a rather chaotic but illuminating post screening Q&A – just to handle the obvious question despite this one track charity reunion he and DM ain’t resuming activities, even if he did honour them with a recent remix. For diary purposes this night will go down in history amongst me and my close friends however as before exiting the cinema for further Christmas liquid excesses I took the opportunity to introduce myself to Alan – we’re obviously on first name terms now – gabbling my enthusiasm for his music and work before vigorously shaking his hand and snapping a photo for the German journalist who was chatting to him before I rather inelegantly interrupted their conversation. True to expected form he was as genial and approachable as we fans could possibly expect, he seemed very amenable to my rudeness and genuinely enthusiastic despite my potentially embarrassing gushing – an all round good egg in my book;

This event was something of a double whammy as I had never had the pleasure of visiting the Screen On The Green before, as a capsule review it’s a perfectly agreeable London art-house cinema with good leg room and perfect sight lines, they provide waiter service of drinks to your seats (no doubt aping the international popularity of the Alamo Drafthouse experience) and a reasonably sized screen with excellent acoustics. If I had one complaint then it would be the perfectly obvious point about the exorbitant drink prices, I fully realise they have their overheads to master and could tap the more affluent middle-class who would be more likely to frequent their facility and support their alternative credentials, but £6 for a bottle of beer is outrageous, but then again in the months I’ve been hibernating it seems that two nights out in reasonably quick succession has revealed that the average cost of a pint in London is now over £4, and there was me thinking this was the era of austerity. But enough grumbling, this was a truly legendary night that I and my mate will be drinking to for many years to come, now all I have to do is get John Carpenter a pint and I can die a happy man. In other news next week is looking hectic with three cinema visits on the horizon (I think something’s coming out on Thursday?) but let’s leave this weekend with a track from the old school, Enjoy the Recoil :