Feeling Gloomy is London’s only club that dishes out doleful ditties. It is the brainchild of Carl Hill, who on approaching 30, decided life was about as good as being jobless, penniless and single. And what do you know he was all of those. Whether groomed for the press or not, the story that The Smiths’ ‘There Is A Light…’ showed him the beauty in sadness sounds plausible. And so Feeling Gloomy was born.
The concept of tonight is brilliant: It’s March 17th, St Patrick’s Day and Steven Patrick Morrissey is of Irish parentage. He’s the Pope of Mope and this club’s called Feeling Gloomy. And 17 people committed suicide today. Okay, I made the last one up. But in any case, it seems the planets are aligned.
Hmm, I didn’t really think they were, as the following suggests:
The DJ waffles unbearable inanities in between songs. It’d be okay if he were verbally dextrous to the point of, in keeping with the theme of the night, Wildean wit, but then bigmouth strikes again; his informing us of his favourite Morrissey song is unavoidable, just like writing this without Smiths puns is. He fails to capture the mood appropriately. The atmosphere is relaxed inasmuch as it lacks the pretentiousness of other indie haunts, but is decidedly slapdash. The latter point owes itself to the disjointedness of the evening (interuptions and idiots comandeering the mic). The uplifting personality of the songs (think The Cure, Pulp, Belle & Sebastian and Bruce Springsteen) makes that glow in glumness not at all as elusive as you might think.
Those breaks in the music are for tedious things such as: “Is it anyone’s birthday?” Fair enough, this ushers in a predictable play of The Smiths’ ‘Unhappy Birthday’, but not before we’re invited to serenade the nervous unfortunates along to the standard version of the song.
Surely Carl’s (in his alter-ego as Cliff) hyperbolic praise of The Miserablists is tongue-in-cheek? If you don’t know, they’re indie’s only air guitar band. Or something. But really they’re just sandwich boy types who flail their arms about to some of the best tracks that are played tonight: ‘This Charming Man’ and ‘Irish Blood, English Heart’. Annoyingly, the rowdy booing grants them an encore. I’m not down with the ‘Gloomies’, as the fans call themselves, but that can’t be reverse psychology in action, surely? It’s ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’, and a pointer to the fact that the music policy isn’t exclusively indie.
As far as the Moz factor is concerned, why aren’t we getting back-to-back album playbacks? No, seriously, this wasn’t expected but the Moz / Smiths to other indie ratio isn’t going the right way for a night touted as a paean to the former Smiths’ front man. And the Italian girls who are filling the cramped Islington Bar Academy with cheap hairspray in their attempts to coiff quiffs don’t count. Step on my toe again with your Prada heel and I’ll smash every tooth in your head. On second thoughts perhaps I’m being a little harsh on the Smiths count. ‘What Difference Does It Make?’ ‘Cemetry Gates’, ‘Sheila Take A Bow’, ‘Pretty Girls Make Graves’, ‘Reel Around The Fountain’, ‘Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now’ and ‘Bigmouth..’ were all played. From the man solo we hear ‘Every Day Is Like Sunday’ and ‘The First of the Gang to Die’.
Given the playful nature of the night, it’s hard to imagine there is a serious side to it. Importantly, some of the proceeds go towards a charity called The Depression Alliance.
The rave reviews in the national press Feeling Gloomy has garnered must surely have been based upon the concept alone. For it is a brilliant one, only let down by its amateur, local radio-style delivery. Carl’s disdain for London’s clubbing scene at large was also a motivating factor in establishing Feeling Gloomy. He says, “I created a night for people who’ve stopped going to clubs because they don’t like the music. When a flyer says ‘sexy, funky fun’, it annoys me because it’s just drunk girls in mini-skirts being sick.”
Agree with you there, Carl. But now when I see a flyer for Feeling Gloomy, I think of a Saturday morning kids’ show.
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its meant not to be slick. In factsaturday morning kids TV is high praise as far as I’m concerned..I likeit! Bit harsh on the Italian girls, they are lovely and they hate all thatPrada stuff. Overall its fair, it is what it is like I said I’d hate to besome coporate night. I ran School Disco and believe me I never want to gonear that sort of thing again. I think you missed the point on theMiserablists, they are meant to be rubbish, its sending up indie bands.Overall we take the piss, you might call it good working class gallowshumour, fraid that’s me.
My overall opinion is that it’s an incredible idea but the way it’s delivered is a bit silly. I know your aim is to put a light-hearted spin on depression and you definitely achieve this, and everyone looked like they were having a lot of fun, but I’m not one for slapstick humour, so I wrote it from the viewpoint of a highly-strung cynic!