Live Review: The Tears at Reading Festival - 27th August 2005

Author: Kate Milner

The music is loud, the tent is packed and fans scream as they passionately surge towards their idol. It's like Suede at the height of their debut album fame. And then Babyshambles finish and it all starts to go wrong. Unlike everyone else here, we are here to see the Tears. We stood through the quite frankly disappointing Babyshambolic set (although I did enjoy their latest single "If You Were Shagging A Supermodel, You'd Be Famous Too") and then literally strolled to the barrier through a tent full of people rushing the opposite way. The Foo Fighters were about to start and the massive Second Stage suddenly looked very big indeed. And empty. This was not good.

Last time we saw the Tears, Bernard had pouted his way through the set because someone had thrown chewing gum at him, while Brett had repeatedly told the audience off for talking during the quiet bits. So we're assuming they are not the most tolerant band. And playing the headline slot on the Saturday to a literal four rows of people would probably not be on the agenda. Luckily, the tent starts to fill minutes before (well, minutes after) they're scheduled to come on. One suspects that their publicists ran around the campsite and VIP area offering free drugs and badges to anyone who came to the Second Stage NOW! When at last we can't see the back of the marquee, the stage darkens and the session musicians (well, they might as well be) come on. Followed by Bernard, barely acknowledging the audience (after all that trouble to get him one). Finally, when the screams of the Brett Anderson obsessive to my right become just too much, Brett strides on, looking ultracool in a black leather jacket and shades. Ah, and Bernard has one to match in tan. So much for hating each other - they've clearly been to Topman together sometime in the recent past.

The stage stays dark as Brett hugs his microphone. Informed by Brett Anderson Obsessive Woman (henceforth known as BAOW) that this was "Asylum", the band start slowly, backing Brett's minimalist vocals. Make no mistake, this was a show for the hardcore fans. Anyone else can sod off and watch the Foos. Oh wait, they have. From this intense beginning, they thankfully rip into "Lovers". Brett bounces around, Bernard does that head-shaking thing and there is much swaying and singing along. Everyone here appears to be Old Suede fans and approximately half of them know the Tears' songs. I suspect the Tears have made few new converts but the old diehard fans are still as diehard as ever (take a bow, BAOW). The next song, "Imperfection" threatens to send those diehard fans over the edge as they scream "I want you to play with my hair in the morning". Do they not realise that Brett isn't actually as sexy as he was 15 years ago? There's a reason he's not taking those shades off.

There's a poignant moment as Brett dedicates "The Ghost of You" to his recently deceased father. BAOW looks like she might cry. Darn it, so does Brett. The whole song drips with feeling and I'm given a stern look from Boy because he thinks I'm singing the wrong lyrics ("And it's hard to get by...from the Ghost of New Suede" - it's a "Head Music" thing). As it happens, I'm so moved by the whole thing that I'm not only singing the right words but even starting to well up a little. That might just be the dry ice stinging my eyes. Or the fact that it's so frigging cold I can see my breath (now that's not the dry ice). Throughout the gig, the security guards stand in a line, taking a breather after the Pete Doherty inspired frenzy and waiting for something to do. Around this point, some of them start to go home. Tears fans are quite happy to stand and just look at the pair of them doing their thing. Except when they play "Refugees" when...look! We have a Crowdsurfer! Probably just trying to get to the Main Stage...

During "Apollo 13", Brett succumbs to the screams of BAOW and jumps off the stage for a wander along the barrier. To the soundtrack of hundreds (well tens) of girls singing "I will FOLLOW you, FOLLOW you!" he walks around, seeming to care little about the fans reaching to stroke him. It's as if he's just done this too many times. Back up to the stage for a "Beautiful Pain" and then they're off. Bearing in mind what Brett said at the last gig - when he explained that the band are going to come back anyway, it's doesn't matter how much you shout - we don't overexert ourselves cheering. Imagine our surprise then when the roadies come on and the house lights - such as they are - come up. A set list (seized by BAOW wouldya believe it) reveals that they had a B-side, "Southern Rain" lined up as an encore but obviously chose not to use it.

This left a strange taste in the collective mouth. Was it our fault? Were we not a good audience? Or just not enough of us? There was a definite sense of going through the motions but with the Bernard 'n' Brett show, even the motions are entertaining enough. And the tension between them is still tangible. So often, bands reforming seems like a money-grabbing gimmick but with Anderson and Butler, you feel that they really care about it. So much so that playing to a half-empty tent upsets them enough to stop them coming back for an encore. Still, I'm glad they're back together. They compliment each other like cheese and pineapple - just not so interesting when you break them down into their constituent parts. It's just a pity that it doesn't seem to be making either of them, happy.