Jesse Malin at the Cluny, Newcastle

I looked set to miss this gig on Monday evening as I had other plans but when a friend offered me a free ticket, my plans were swiftly changed. My friend was also on a freebie as he is writing a review of the gig for a local blog, so I will leave the hard work to him and as always just record here my own feelings about the night.

I have now lost count of the number of times I have seen Malin perform live. See, there are advantages in keeping a blog as it helps one to keep track of such things. The last time I witnessed him at this particular venue must have been way back in 2004 as his DVD 'Star Smile Strong' featured a handful of songs recorded here.

Nothing much has changed for Malin with the passing of time. He still favours the shaggy black hair and leather jackets and his songs are still delivered in that distinctive nasal whine rich in the nuances of his native New York City. Beneath a cloth cap worn with the peak turned to the side, he looks considerably younger than his 47 years.

Kicking off with 'Addicted' from the new album followed by old favourite 'Wendy', I thought we were in for a good cross section of his career output. Unfortunately (for me) the focus was more Joey Ramone than Springsteen or Ryan Adams. I thought that punk died 35 years ago but here it was, alive though not very well in Newcastle upon Tyne. Joey Ramone whose birthday it would have been on 19 May, was mentioned several times and by tribute Malin did a cover of the Ramones 'Do You Remember Rock n Roll Radio?'

It appears that Malin also fancies himself as something of a raconteur as we were regaled with several quite lengthy in-between-song raps. Unfortunately (again for me) apart from a couple of humorous anecdotes, they were too long and added little to the evening. As expected Malin continues to enjoy the close interaction with his audience and once again joined us all in a mass sit-down as he gave us a rendition of the latest album torch song 'Bar Life'.

There were plenty crowded round the small stage who were clearly lapping up everything Malin offered and I wondered if the antipathy was all mine. Yet glancing round I noticed that  the crowd appeared to be thinning as the evening progressed and by the time of the final song, Lou Reed's 'Sally Can't Dance', the place was half empty.


This number had been preceded by one of Malin's older (and better) songs, 'Brooklyn'. Pleased as I was to hear it played again, it only served to highlight (for me) just how much better his old material was.

I don't wish to sound ungrateful for the free ticket but perhaps I should have stuck to my original plans.