Adam Green at Dingwalls
Adam Green, former Mouldy Peaches frontman and anti-folk extraordinaire, took to the stage for a sold out show at Dingwalls on Friday night. Donning an old sailor cap and navy blue waistcoat on top of a more casual get up, he and his guitarist – decked head-to-toe in red – triumphed on the Camden Town stage, with some of the greatest hits from his seven albums.
Starting out slow with Bluebirds, Green is a light upon the stage himself, limbs flailing in what appears to be ungraceful “dancing”, and encouraging the crowd to loudly holler his own words back at him. By the end of his second song, Tropical Island, from his 2008 record, Sixes and Sevens, the crowd are as sweaty and fuelled as Green is too, with arms splaying, beer spilling, and dramatic rolls of final chords on the rumbling guitar to round it all out.
The next few songs pass in the same fashion, until his guitarist temporarily leaves, and Green asks the crowd for their favourites. He soon begins a rendition of Boss Inside, sans guitar, as he has “forgotten how to play it after all these years.” The crowd are loving it, arms around the shoulders of the people next to them, swaying side to side as Green, who is the opposite of sober by this point in the evening, is high-fiving members of his audience.
After a brief interlude to promote his after-party, some way away at the other end of Camden, he launches into his supposed last numbers of the evening, with Friends of Mine, Cannot Get Sicker, and his timeless classic Jessica Simpson. His last song of the evening, Dance With Me, has the entire crowd (all the way back to the merch stand and bar at the back of the venue) shouting the words with a certain tipsy vigour, who then chant – satanically – after Green exits the stage for him to return for the desired encore.
No Legs, the first song in his encore, is as lively as the rest of his set so far, and Her and Her Father passes in the same fashion. Lady Boy, which has the loudest response of the evening, has Green leering over the audience, resting on his unfortunate mic stand in a tipsy stupor, before he picks up his guitar for the last song of the evening, and turns off his mic and guitar amp, and proceeds to sing – not even shout – the arguably twisted lyrics to The Prince’s Bed, before a final wave and hop off the stage to close this energetic evening.
Photos: Alejo Garcia
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