Shows/1992-02-05
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Setlist: (incomplete and possibly out of order)
They Might Be Giants
Bloomsbury Theatre in London, UK
February 5, 1992
Fan Recaps and Comments:
Dr Raygun: I have no real recollections about these two Bloomsbury Theatre gigs beyond the fact that they were a bit weird due to them being all seater. Also, at one of them I met Jonathan Ross who invited me to attend his next show recording (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=llx9BrMhnxk) which meant I got to hang out in the green room with Corky and the Juice Pigs and Rusty Lee (the Johns were rehearsing with the house band when I arrived and had their own dressing room but it never occurred to me at the time to merely take a little wander down the corridor to say hi - D'oh!). Also I got invited to the Apollo 18 press party by one of the roadies and got to chat briefly with Flans - and a cool photo - and persuaded Linnell, who was standing around looking nervous and very awkward, to sign my London A-Z which he initialled. I cut the page out and had it for years but now sadly can't find it! May 2015
Review of the show by Colm O'Callaghan
Melody Maker, Feb. 15, 1992
Tonight, the kids look exactly like the band. There are loads of spectacles, loopy fringes, stupid shirts. At least half of these kids are American and white. The other half are awkward, loud, anxious to be heard, seem proud. Which is kind of irrelevant, really, but then again maybe not. This, after all, is where They Might Be Giants appeal. These people are very strange, to be sure.They Might Be Giants have a brand new album out soon and it should, all going to plan, sound quite like the last one. Indie pop for desperately fashionable fiftysomethings and songs to play at venture scout jamborees. But we came here expecting nothing. We got that.
And then they fall casually onto a very sparse stage and the kids lose themselves. Utterly. Someone clambers for just a touch. God. And here we go, two typically American young men with ego, one enormous saxophone thing, some funnily shaped guitars and an active beatbox. It is all very difficult to understand. But the embarrassing thing is that we know most of their songs which, I guess, says something about catchiness. But then we always do remember life's great disasters.
"Actual Size" has snare drum and, whisper it, accordion and it is very typical. Obnoxious, unfunny, and boring. And while songs like "We Want A Rock" and "Birdhouse In Your Soul" are half-decently poppish and hummable, all of this is still horribly sad. These songs don't stick. They scratch. And infect. And hey, things like prosthetic foreheads on real heads are irrelevant now. The Sultans Of Ping FC have re-invented paranoia in pop. Never mind art, just remember where you put your jumper.
Review of the show by Gina Morris
New Musical Express, Feb. 22, 1992
They Might Be Giants are the funniest comedy duo that side of the stage. They are seriously hysterical, frustratingly nonsensical and nauseatingly illogical and we love 'em.
Both 'Birdhouse In Your Soul' and new single 'The Statue Got Me High' are great pop songs, whilst 'Istanbul Not Constantinople' epitomises their ridiculousness. You have your bands that you hold precious and you have the Giants, you have great love songs and you have songs called 'Chess Piece Face', 'Purple Toupee' and 'Lost My Lucky Ball And Chain'. If you only lose your pride and sobriety once a year, make sure it's at a They Might Be Giants gig. Hell, it's only fun for God's sake.
The Giants are not up for debate, they do however provoke two questions, a) what's so awful about enjoying a bit of quirky message-less pop now and again? And b) If they are so un-trendy why is Jonathan Ross whooping it up in the next seat? It's the difference between grinning with a group or sneering at them; Airhead and the Giants are laughable leagues apart. Basically if you want the musical equivalent of a block buster movie for entertaining escapism then you've come to the right band. Where else can you punch the air to a chorus of "Someone keeps moving my chair". They are cartoon pop and to be this corny takes some cool.
The two Johns (Flansburgh and Linnell) are like the two boys from The Wonder Years, a couple of kids with adult consciences. When the sound engineer goes overboard on vocal effects they become as excited as children in an echo chamber-for a full five minutes they wail, shout and giggle.
It's like they're on Whose Line Is It Anyway? improvising a song in the style of Elvis Costello when they play 'Narrow Your Eyes', then they sound strangely like Carter, then the Pixies; well, there's only two of them, they play to a backing tape, Flansburgh looks a bit like Black Francis and they do 40 snippets of song in an hour.
