And you can keep tomorrow...

The Bluetones - Expecting to Fly tour - Birmingham Academy - 12 December 2008

Another night, another album retrospective which while shimmering beneath the facade of celebrating glories with true fans is really a cash-in now all the money lies in the live scene.

But even when the motive, of The Man if not the band, are less than pure it doesn't stop it being a dream realised to hear this album, and the b-sides, played in full.

The crowd gathered was small, obviously faithful, possibly had been in hibernation or hiding since Britpop became a dirty word. The shaggy hair, retro trainers, stripey t-shirts and kitsch/cuteness were out in force and safe in each others company. And we all wanted the same thing. To half pretend the last 12 years hadn't aged us while the other half of the self has to acknowledge the parts of those years that this record has seeped through, guided, lifted, comforted.

Expecting to Fly landed in February 1996. It must have hit me at the precise moment it was meant to in order to have maximum impact on my emerging self. As the boys opened the album (Talking to Clarry) and moved through its oh-so-familiar restrains I realised just how much of my philosophy, how much of my path and my self I had let be shaped and led by the words sung here.

I've never made any secret that The Fountainhead contains in one verse a summary of my world view. But there are little pockets all over this album that even I hadn't truly realised were the answer when I question my sub-concious. I think I needed to hear this album live, to have no escape from it, to know that. And to be both stunned and comforted by that knowledge.

I'm not saying it is wise to let your life be led by one single album, I certainly couldn't in good faith recommend it, but to be honest it hasn't done me any harm.

So deep-seated semi-psychological realisations done with we all had a nice little sing song. And there was a good deal of head-bobbing and while most of us felt too tired after a full day at the office to actually pogo we notioned towards it with a nice little bounce on the heels during the really jaunty bits.

53 minutes (plus charismatic and honest chatter) the last refrains of Time and Again faded away.

Did it sound exactly like the record? No. Did it need to? Not really. This collection of songs becomes something else when played together as a whole. It didn't really matter that Mark Morriss' voice isn't the same pitch as it was back then, it didn't matter that some of the tuning was off, it certainly didn't need the elements that only make sense on the record (the plane taking off, the needle and flip between side A and B). The spirit shone through and because we each hold a candle inside for our own reasons, we let it actually take flight.

So, a short break and then into the b-sides and a slightly scary obsessional edge came out in all of us as fingers were crossed for Colorado Beetle, Marblehead Johnson, The Devil Behind My Smile and all were delivered. Only one disappointed person in the place, who repeatedly requested Mudslide even though Mark Morriss attempted to explain the concept of this being an album tour on several occasions in several ways.

But we can't make this last forever. It is a moment in time (listening to another moment in time). So we left this with the happy / punching of Are You Blue or Are You Blind?

My, how we've all grown, and yet not really fully moved on.