“I formed a Band”, Eddie Argos,
Broadcast Café, Glasgow
24th May 2015
Eddie Argos is a singer who doesn’t sing, he admits this straight away. It should come as no surprise to audiences, then, that he isn’t a spoken word artist either.
This reviewer wasn’t sure what to expect from a spoken word night by the likes of Argos, though I was mildly aware of his eccentricity. Argos made it big(ish) with his band Art Brut by resting on the laurels of his talented bandmates, and his own strange brand of eccentricity and charisma. His style of singing (talking) lent a unique and off-kilter sound which has attracted a cult following, as well as glowing decade-old reviews by the likes of NME. Now, he’s launching a crowd-funded autobiography, and embarking upon a mini tour of the UK putting on a one-man 45 minute “Spoken Word” show.
Luckily, Argos is funny. He also oozes charisma, and he has great comic timing. Not to mention he’s likeable. He has a cult following. And he’s never pretended to be clever, just weird. For those expecting classic Eddie, the show is a great chance to see a famous(ish) musician up close and personal, with the chance to ask questions, and bask in the intimacy of a half-empty room. I think Argos made eye contact with just about everyone, all fifteen of us.
For those expecting Spoken Word, Argos certainly does not hit the mark. It did not help that his opening acts were two of the most talented spoken word artists in Scotland – Bram E. Gieben (Scottish Slam Champion) and Kevin Gilday. Both personify the best of spoken word in the United Kingdom. Gieben, also a musician, blends his own brand of post-apocalyptic diatribe with hip-hop cadences. His pieces are fiery laments and in some senses, eulogies, for the contemporary state of man. He calls his attitude “Heroic Pessimism”. In other words, he is clever, skilful, and unapologetically avant-garde. He is an artist nearing the top of his game. Those curious about the bar for great spoken word in Scotland would do well to listen to Gieben’s work. I’ve heard an over-abundance of Howl-spawned litanies, but I forgive Bram his. And that’s saying something.
Gilday is even fresher. The man himself is funny, warm, and charismatic. His pieces are hilarious, ironic without a trace of bitterness (mostly), and humming with the present moment. A piece titled “Found in the Mud” (which might equally be titled “Overheard at Glastonbury”) had most of the room in tears. His Middle Class Love Poem was just as hysterical. Where Gieben is dark and brooding, Gilday is sincere and shrewd. His is an expert form of spoken word for everyman, with strong links to the world of storytelling, and comedy. The man himself is authentic, naturally funny, and effortless. Gilday tells me after the show that it’s tempting for poets to muster their deepest, darkest work for a set, but he likes to offer the audience relief. It is exciting to discover a voice which brings such energy and warmth to material elsewhere laced with acrimony, and an excess of C*words. I felt sorry for Argos following such wit, although he too had his moments.
Which brings me to the headliner. Argos was funny, I’ll give him that. The material was well-chosen, his transitions were seamless, and he has a natural talent for drawing audiences in. Audiences were treated to a variety of ramblings covering his attention-grabbing youth, his undying narcissism, his foppish cavorts around London, and his antics playing a hoover instead of a musical instrument. Anyone who’s had a chance to read some of his song lyrics, should know not to expect a word-smith at the top of his game. Argos does however, make a tremendous effort to entertain those dedicated enough to listen to his anecdotes. He tries very, very hard. Fans of the band would do well to attend the next few stops on his tour. Fans of comedy too. However, as Argos himself admitted, the “Spoken Word” title seems like a cop-out, a loose term he himself has hurled out without knowing really what it means. He probably wanted to call himself a comedian, but didn’t have the balls.
Argos as a Spoken Word performer is, well, kind of like Argos. You go in, already unsure as to what exactly you’ll end up getting, or how good it’ll be. But it’s shiny, and cheap-ish and the catalogue makes it sound good. So you splash out, and hope for the best, only realizing as you open that weird misshapen box with that old familiar pang, you should probably have spent your time and money somewhere else.But you’ll never have the balls to ask for a refund.
Reviewer : Charlotte Morgan