Andy Jordan at Gorilla Review

Sunday night saw a bloke called Andy Jordan do some music on stage in popular live music venue Gorilla. This fella is well known by many due to his role on Made in Chelsea, a ‘scripted reality’ show on E4, which chronicles the lives and loves of affluent young people living in the posh areas of London. The show is a BAFTA winner apparently, and a massive hit for E4 which I thought only showed episodes of The Big Bang Theory and How I Met Your Mother. I have watched a couple of episodes of the show, but I must confess that after around 6 minutes of watching, my attention drifted away from the vacuous, preening ‘actors’ and their stories to some grass I noticed that was growing at a much more interesting and biologically fulfilling pace.

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It’s painfully clear that Made in Chelsea is not aimed at a 29 year old miserable, skint, Northern lad. It’s slickly produced, with beautiful people wearing expensive clothes, driving posh cars and eating in cafes where they would rather spit on me than serve me a cup of hot Vimto. No, the programme is aimed at the younger viewer; people who relish the Daily Mail sidebar of shame, and are actually really interested to know what Kim Kardashian eats when Kanye is out kicking tramps to death. To be perfectly honest, I’m probably the least qualified person to do a review of Andy Jordan and the noises that come out of his mouth, but fuck it – I will do it anyway. I will do my utmost best to provide an interesting, impartial and open-minded view on what is really important – the music.

The leg bones of a bat are so thin that no bat can walk.

The plan for the night was to have few drinks and some food in Gorilla then head next door to their stage at around half 7 to catch the support acts (Vynce and Azu Yeché) and then prepare for the musical treats of Mr Jordan. Drinks and food in Gorilla were a bloody treat, there was a little happy hour thing going on (cocktails for a fiver), faultless service, and the food was bloody lovely. We headed over to the stage round the corner, which I have always thought to be a fantastic space, reflected in the fact that the guys at Gorilla are consistently getting some great acts performing. The last time I was there was for the J Dilla Tribute gig, and upon entering, it was already busier.

If you keep a goldfish in a dark room, it will become pale.

First on stage were Vynce, a group of lads from Liverpool who reminded me of an early Kings of Leon, and although I absolutely hate Kings of Leon, I managed to almost enjoy myself. Their final song was basically the continued, 3 and a half minute repetition of the question ‘Do you Love Me?’ which quickly got annoying and, in many ways, desperate. Next up was Azu Yeché, a bit of a folk/Lighthouse Family act who told us that he had to be woken up by his guitarist because he fell asleep after sound check. Whether he fell asleep because he was listening to his singing we will never know, but he was actually pretty good – nothing too offensive or disastrous and he seems like a nice fella. Of particular note was his nice pork pie hat, which kept my attention on the stage longer than the rest of it.

A housefly hums in the key of F.

So on to Andy Jordan. The main event. Headlining at the Gorilla in that Manchester. He’s on tour this March promoting his music to a throng of (mostly) girls who were dazzled when he finally bounded onto the stage. He had an impressive band, with a primary school music lesson level of instruments. There were bongos, some guitars, a keyboard, some drums, probably a triangle, definitely a recorder, and almost certainly a plastic bottle with some dried peas in it. The band started with a big reggae intro which was actually pretty good – I may have even tapped a toe or two. After a minute of this, Andy Jordan came out to a throng of woops and Instagram filters, dancing like a bouncing, bumbling, bell-end looking Bez, but without the charm (or political pizzazz).

The average fox weighs 14 pounds.

I struggle to remember the names of the songs to be honest; and after a strong start where there was a bit of a reggae influence and then a bit of a country/Top Gear album flavour, the songs started merging into one long slow ballad. There were different songs for his mum, his grandma and his siblings, which were alright – sweet but because I don’t know them (or care) – I struggled to pay attention. One of his songs, ‘Whole Lot of Water’ (influenced by his love of surfing – very deep) reached No. 71 in the UK Single charts last year, which is pretty good actually – it’s one whole place better than that shaven-headed Nichola Holt from Big Brother 1 who released ‘The Game’ and only got to number 72. Craig from Big Brother 1 got to number 14 though – so maybe Andy should try a bit harder.

There is a butterfly in Africa with enough poison in its body to kill six cats!

Andy’s voice is good; he would definitely get to Louis Walsh’s house in X Factor, but I doubt he would get any further. The whole thing was basically just ‘Meh’; not terrible, not offensive, but also not very interesting or different. This is why I have tried to make this review more interesting and spice it up with some facts about animals. If Andy did this between his songs, instead of his rather limited chatter (at one point he leaned in to the mic and proclaimed, almost sage-like “It’s warm”), he could have sustained his audiences’ attention longer. Mine was lost rather quickly except for one point where Andy started singing ‘Fast Car’ by Tracy Chapman. Now I’m not sure what version he downloaded off of YouTube but it had a load of rapping in it which was pretty painful to watch. A middle-class, white man babbling his way through some fast lyrics was like watching your dad try to be cool or that time when Richard Madeley did the Ali G impression on This Morningn.

For Andy though, he should be safe in the knowledge that the girls in the middle of the crowd looked like they enjoyed themselves, and a couple behind me were arguing with each other through it all so I wasn’t completely bored. Not that he will care too much because he’s in Made in Chelsea, and I’m just a bitter little poor bloke who has never taken a girl Clay Pigeon Shooting in the hope of a quick tonguing in the back of a Rolls Royce while some Frank Turner plays in the background. Good luck to you Andy, your music might be a bit shit but at least you have your career on Made in Chelsea.

 

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