Thursday, 1 November 2012
Dead Can Dance - Royal Albert Hall, London, England - 26.10.2012 (2 Sources FLAC/MP3)
As requested, here's the DCD concert at the RAH, two diferent sources, the one ianmacd shared on DIME and Cyberbio's version, that he sent me to share on DCR.
The two versions sound very good, and are actually very similar, but Cyberbio's is a less echoey gaining some sound definition and proximity, of both is my favorite.
HUGE Thanks to both tapers for sharing their recording.
Still two more recordings from Europe 2012 to come in the next days.
01. [07:31] Children Of The Sun
02. [06:31] Anabasis
03. [06:20] Rakim
04. [08:28] Kiko
05. [00:34] [banter]
06. [04:43] Lamma Bada
07. [06:11] Agape
08. [06:26] Amnesia
09. [05:48] Sanvean
10. [04:44] Nierika
11. [05:46] Opium
12. [06:41] The Host Of Seraphim
13. [00:41] [banter]
14. [04:50] Ime Prezakias
15. [05:13] Now We Are Free
16. [06:41] All In Good Time
17. [03:10] [encore break]
18. [05:47] The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegrove
19. [04:11] Dreams Made Flesh
20. [02:54] [encore break]
21. [04:35] Song To The Siren
22. [07:09] Return Of The She-King
23. [01:38] [encore break]
24. [05:17] Rising Of The Moon
Total running time: 121:48
position: left, 10m from stage, Section B
lineage/source: SP-CMC-8 o - SP-SPSB-11 [no roll off] - EIDROL R09HR [24/48] - MP3 192kbps
Don´t sell this recording. Share only with info file.
Support the artist!
cyberbio ~October 2.012~
Type: Audience master, recorded from seat in dead centre of 13th row of arena,
approximately 10 metres from the overhead PA system.
Source: Factory-matched pair of Schoeps CCM 41V microphones (DINa mounted) ->
Marantz PMD661 recorder with Oade Concert Mod
(-18 dB gain/44.1 kHz/24 bit WAV)
Lineage: Audacity 2.0.2
* applied varying amplification for consistency across recording
* attenuated applause, including sample-level edits to eliminate
* added fades
* split tracks
* converted to 16 bit
-> FLAC (compression level 8) [libFLAC 1.2.1 20070917]
It's my first Dead Can Dance gig after a break of more than two weeks.
The rest has done me good. Apart from taking the time to see some other
artists, I spent some time cycling with my wife and children in the dunes of
Ameland. When we left the island on Thursday, I was feeling completely
relaxed, refreshed and content. I was ready to see the band perform again.
After the gig in Prague, I had posted a message to Dead Can Dance's Facebook
page in my usual fashion, saying "Thanks for another great gig. I'm looking
forward to seeing you again next time." Imagine my surprise when, just a
couple of days later, I found all of my comments removed and my ability to add
new ones to the page blocked.
Some weird software glitch? No, just the work of a vindictive character, who
somehow still hasn't found it in himself to surmount my having had the
audacity four months ago to tell him that I found one of the songs on his new
album "a bit cheesy". Precious? I think so.
Banned from his forum for holding an opinion and now banned from the band's
Facebook page for saying thank you for the gig. Can it get any pettier? Oh, I
daresay it can. This man harbours a grudge.
England doesn't change. I stand on a railway platform at Gatwick Airport in
the cold, dank air; the rain coming down in earnest just beyond the awning.
My train is delayed, due to "poor rail conditions across the south-east". When
it finally does arrive, I board it, scramble to get a seat and then proceed to
survey the miserable faces of my fellow passengers.
The experience is a microcosm of why I emigrated 21 years ago. The futility is
instantly familiar. Only the faces are different.
The trip from Gatwick to Victoria ends up taking longer than the
geographically much longer preceding leg from Amsterdam to Gatwick. It's
mid-afternoon by the time I make it to my hotel in Earls Court. It's dismal
outside, one of those days that you just want to sit by the fireplace and be
thankful for not having to go out.
After hanging out in my room for a while, I go for a wander down Kensington
High Street and then grab an early dinner at a local pub on the way back.
After picking up my recording gear from the hotel, I head over to the Queen's
Arms in Kensington to meet up with friends.
The last time I was in the English capital was to see Brendan Perry at the
Union Chapel in June 2010. Many of the people I am meeting up with tonight are
people I haven't seen since that occasion.
Kenneth and his wife have travelled from Malta to see the band play this
evening. It's their very first Dead Can Dance gig and expectations are high.
Denes (a.k.a. inreason/lamb79) is here, too, known to many of you as the man
responsible for a large number of video recordings of Brendan's 'Ark' tour. I
haven't seen him since Brendan's August 2010 gig in Utrecht. Together with his
girlfriend and a friend, he has flown down today from Edinburgh for what will
also be his first experience seeing the band live.
David, better known in the taping community as whiskybob, is here with his
wife, and there are a couple of new faces, too.
It's a good crowd and I'm unique amongst them in already having seen the band
perform on this tour. Consequently, everyone else is rather more excited than
I am about tonight's gig.
The pub is packed and hot, so I'm relieved when we finally leave and walk the
short distance to the venue.
The Royal Albert Hall certainly is impressive from the outside. Somehow, I've
achieved the unlikely feat of never having been to a concert here before, but
that changes tonight.
We make it inside with absolutely no security. I could have walked inside
with my gear in my hands and it wouldn't have mattered. I set up in the
toilets and am ready to roll.
We take our seats in the arena and I am immediately struck by how far away
from the front of the stage the overhead PA is situated. It doesn't bode well
for the sound, but I train my microphones on the speakers and hope for the
Everything is scheduled fifteen minutes earlier this evening than has been the
norm on this tour. David Kuckhermann thus starts his support set at 19:45
before many people have taken their seat. He's joined on the last number, as
in Frankfurt, by Holger Raddatz on soprano saxophone.
The lights go down for Dead Can Dance at 20:45. I wonder whether the early
start is to allow more time to clear the venue after the show, or whether we
might be in for an extra song or two tonight. My money is on the former as the
more realistic proposition.
It's an excellent performance, give or take a few bum notes from Brendan
during the bouzouki outro to 'Kiko'. The sound, however, is very poor; without
a doubt the worst I have heard in the eight gigs I have attended on this tour.
In the 24 hours that follow the gig, I poll various people for their opinion
on the sound and receive everything from confirmations that it was, indeed,
terrible, to statements that the sound enjoyed in the stalls was excellent.
Make of that what you will. To my mind, it's clear that not all seats were
created equal in the Royal Albert Hall.
'Lamma Bada' receives an embellished ending tonight in the style of recent
performances of 'Ime Prezakias', Brendan bellowing out an impassioned final
few notes. It's the only noticeable deviation in an otherwise predictable, but
excellently rendered set.
Astrid's backing harmonies are as beautiful as ever. I don't think Dead Can
Dance have ever used female backing vocals prior to this tour, but they work
very well and add a new dimension to the sound. She's also one of the more
interesting characters to watch on stage, as her fingers caress and glide
gracefully over the keys in songs like 'Amnesia' and 'Return Of The She-King'.
The audience has a few oddballs in it. A couple enter the arena during the
start of 'Anabasis' and shuffle past the legs of the row behind me. When they
finally take their seats, they proceed to strike up a conversation, much to
the consternation of people located around the aisle.
Kenneth informs me after the gig that he had to endure a bloke who repeatedly
got up to fetch drinks from the bar. I observed a few of those myself from
down in the arena. For some people, like Kenneth, tonight is a dream come
true. For others, it's a night out; something to do on a Friday evening.
I also found the audience's applause annoying at times. They would clap
prematurely before the end of a song, then clap too late into the next when
it dawned on them what was now being played. European audience behaviour seems
to be changing over time to become more like that of American audiences. It's
not a welcome development.
We go for drinks after the gig. Kenneth is a huge fan, but with tonight being
his virginal experience of the band, they were never going to disappoint. He's
on cloud nine.
Denes' reaction is more tempered. In particular, he feels that the band failed
to pull off his favourite song, 'The Host Of Seraphim'. The pitch alterations
to suit Lisa's current vocal range dispelled some of the magic for him.
Denes shows me some of the video footage that he recorded of the gig. It looks
good on his video camera's small screen and I'm sure it will become a future
public upload, so you have that to look forward to.
We part ways and I head back to my hotel. Damn, it's cold now.
The recording has turned out quite well, all things considering. It's
certainly not amongst the best I've made of this tour -- in fact, it's
probably the worst -- but that rather damning statement needs to be qualified
and interpreted in context: none of the eight recordings I have made of the
tour so far has been bad, but some are better than others.