Holding on to the Strokes, but sometimes you’ve got to cut the cord and move on alone.

Albert Hammond Jr. walked out in a shiny silver/bronze suit, swirling his mic, tangled himself with the cord.  Sometimes, an almost full bridge back bend or a sudden drop to the knee deep V bend, Albert looked ready to bring all the fun and zest to his fans.  

Friday night, the Electric Ballroom was buzzing, fans were bobbing along to the tunes of Francis Trouble.  A deeply personal record that asks the question of what if?  What if Francis, the stillborn of Albert’s twin had survived?  What if the Strokes went supernova and the band AHJ never existed?  It’s a record that questioning one’s identity and life path; at the same time, it’s also a record with nostalgic sentiment of one’s youth.  Most of the fans didn’t share that nostalgic sentiment yet, but they did feel that they were born too late, missed the party where the Strokes were at their most amazing.  One young fan said “What I really want is to see the Strokes live for just once.”  “Well, now you get to see them separately.” I grinned.     

Second time seeing AHJ live, the first was at Academy Brixton back in February, he was opening for Franz Ferdinand.  But this time I was closer to the stage.  Every time Albert came down, seemed to want to embrace us yet always kept his distance, I regretted that my arm wasn’t long enough.  The almost moments quickly accumulated and that almost killed me. 

Albert put together an awesome set, started off with Dvsl, which met with screams and cued us to start messing about!  The light-hearted sleek tune quickly gave way to a more familiar New York indie guitar hooks with Rude Customer.  The stage was incredibly dark, I wondered whether that was one of the tactics to use to deter fans from taking photographs or videos.  A subtle nudge reminder to enjoy the moment. 

Set to Attack came on, Albert said in an interview that it is “a triumphant song about the lust for life you have in your youth”. We jumped like jelly beans and raised our hands sang along “Hold on! Hold on!”  The tighter you try to grasp the moment, the faster the moment slips away. 

My enjoyment was almost ruined when this guy who was obviously high, kept pushing me away, trying to cut through to the front.  I pushed him back, elbowed him to no avail.  A girl next to me finally had it, yelled at him “Stop touching her!” she then put her arm around me to put up a fence.  The guy backed away for a second. 

Towards the end, my neighbours helped me claimed a spot at the front railing, blocking the guy.  It was then Albert came down the stage and decided to stand in front of me.  I hugged him naturally, hugged his waist tight.  His tall frame made me feel like a child.  His red shirt was soaked through, his fuzzy hair dripping down sweats, I didn’t mind, I grasped the moment.