Monday, 18 November 2024

Ned Boulting's 1923 Marginal Mystery Tour: A pandemic, a bridge and a prop called Théo

Southend on a Sunday November night. Ned Boulting at the Palace Theatre - which, incidentally, was 12 years new in 1923 - and Country and Western at The Plough. 

"Intermarché make their way up the side of the peloton with Biniam Girmay in the green jersey as we approach the intermediate sprint...David, have you heard from Eurosport?" 

This is met with slight but knowing chuckles. This is very much an ITV4 Tour de France audience and a typical ITV4 Tour de France highlights show subject. 

Such an audience, that Ned starts the show, boldly, with a gentle ribbing. He has a history of annoying Strava Wankers and Rapha Wankers, and he continues, jesting "if it's not on Strava it didn't happen" and "you're just filling the gaping void in your life". Ironically, someone's phone rings and Ned improvises, "that's probably her now, oh no, I changed my number". These are all met with laughs, just. The doughty wives of the primary audience members would probably rather be in the pub next door. 

If you know Ned you'll know he's a lover of European culture and history, and has a penchant for the niche, the obscure and the under dog. 

Théophile Beeckman holding flowers

Enter Théophile Beeckman; who is wheeled on from stage right as a tweed jacket, leather gloves, flat cap and aviator goggles. The unlikely star of this story. A man who was as stereotypically Belgian as it's possible to be: he loved racing his bike and his mother's waffles. But before 2020, Théo was just a blurry smudge on a bridge, and then a street, somewhere in France at some point in time. 

This is the man Ned spent years trying to find during the COVID-19 pandemic, after being presented the opportunity to buy a nearly 100 year old Pathé newsreel at an online auction. It turns out he was the only person in the world interested in it. And £120 later, his obsession began. He later objects to being called 'obsessed' by French historian, Michel Chatal, probably because said gentleman was a bit of an obsessive lunatic himself. 

Ned acts out the long, dull days of late 2020 and 2021, holed up at home in Lewisham with a shattered humerus - you will know the story if you listen to Never Strays Far - spending hours trying to find out anything about the grainy black and white characters in still form. Every now and then, an email would ping into his inbox, helping to broaden the web of his investigation. 

Through black outs and brilliant parody ITV adverts, Ned perfectly flits between the necessary, intimate, intricate storytelling of the precious film and whimsical humour of modern day stories; among others, an incorrect WhatsApp recon of Bordeaux with Sir Mark of Cavendish and the crushing boredom of commentating the neutralised roll out.

This neat one-man show becomes an intentionally awkwardly performed three-man show as Ned, via voiceover, conveys the first meeting with Théophile Beeckman's grand-daughter and her husband. It's a blessed relief when 'she' finally turns up and the small talk with 'him' can end.

Ned's struck by how similar she looks to Beeckman, and she knows before he's even said it. 

Perhaps most striking - at the conclusion of what is a fun yet information heavy show - are the family photos at the end. Generations of Beeckmans with Ned's book, 1923. The unknown dot on a bridge, attacking on the 412km stage 4 of the 1923 Tour de France, briefly and flippantly mentioned in the day's press, was now immortalised for his family 100 years hence. 

Finally, Ned shows us pictures of when he got the chance to visit the former site of the bridge in Easter 2022 (which was sabotaged by the occupying German forces in 1944) and hamlet depicted in the film: La Roche Bernard. 

You can't help but be moved. This 'lost generation', in some part, honoured. 

Sunday, 27 January 2019

Inglorious - Ride To Nowhere: An album forged amid personal tragedy

It was apt that Inglorious held the launch party for their third album at Sixty Sixty Sounds on Denmark Street.

The shop fronts represent a by-gone era. An era when Harold Wilson was Prime Minister, and baby-boomer musicians such as Eric Clapton, Keith Richards, Jimmy Page and Jeff Beck would've been regular visitors to the stores that now lie hauntingly empty. An era in which Inglorious would have fitted so seamlessly.

A shop just a few doors down from Sixty Sixty Sounds has been stripped of its interior and wallpaper, revealing the original, perfectly preserved, newspaper under layer. From the pictures of the Yardbirds, Rolling Stones and the like on the yellowed paper, you can deduce this corner of Denmark Street would have been a hive of adolescence bedecked in flowery shirts and flares circa 1965.

For the duration of the evening, Sixty Sixty Sounds became a time capsule back to those glorious days. Vibrant, colourful, expensive guitars adorn every inch of both walls and the street facing window, providing a stark contrast to the dark, deeply emotional context of how Ride To Nowhere came to be. As I found out when I asked lead singer Nathan James how the sound of the band had developed from the first two albums:

"I lost my Grand Father and one of my best friends in a month just before we went into the studio last year. It totally changed me as a writer: really changed me."

What resulted from such heartbreak was a consciously heavier sound:

"Not only musically: that's lyrically; that's feeling; everything in the production is much heavier. We also wanted it to sound a bit more gritty, and we've definitely done that."

Nathan had written a lot of the songs on I and II from a passive perspective, but that completely changed for Ride To Nowhere: "I usually write about other people in my life: about other people's relationships; I wrote a song about my brother and his girlfriend; about my Grandad and my Grandma; about my step-Grandad who I really dislike; and all sorts of characters who you meet; people you've worked with.

"I never imagined myself being that open [on Ride To Nowhere]. From my point of view as the lyricist, I wrote about things I never thought I'd write about. And this time round I wrote a lot more about my feelings."

Where I and II leaned heavily on headbanging riffs and groovy rhythms- songs that would grab attention on the radio and at festivals - Ride To Nowhere exhibits a much more well-rounded repertoire of songwriting; from the desperately sad I Don't Know You, grief-stricken Never Alone, fierce anger of Liar, to the beautiful melodic masterpiece that is the album closer, Glory Days.

That's doesn't mean Inglorious have sacrificed riffs though. Opener Where Are You Now, Time To Go and While She Sleeps will more than satisfy if that's what you're after.

Bragging rights, though, go to the title track, Ride To Nowhere. It totally encapsulates what Inglorious are; groovy, raw, thumping, unapologetic rock n roll. We haven't heard this good a song on either of the first two records, but you can hear echoes of the tracks that have brought them to this point - the groovy sway of Black Magic [II] and the soulful vocal from Holy Water [I].

As I leave Sixty Sixty Sounds, and Denmark Street, it's around 10:30pm. I walk back past the same derelict shop front I saw a few hours earlier - what many may consider a symbol of the current state of the British rock scene - and can't help feeling we're on the precipice of something huge. Something the artists who created rock n roll can be proud of. As long as Inglorious and bands like them exist, rock ain't dead.

Friday, 19 October 2018

Northward Album Review: An Eclectic Palate of Hard Rock

Nightwish singer, Floor Jansen, and Pagan's Mind guitarist, Jorn Viggo Lofstad, combine to create Northward - a ten years in the making project that takes a grand departure from their parent bands.

While Love Died, the debut single from the duo, flies out the traps with catchy grooves and stylish flourishes from Lofstad - a stark contrast to the lyrics which tell of a destructive relationship. It's an great track, capped off by a tone setting fun guitar solo.

Get What You Give introduces a darker, heavier tone, and also explores Jansen's vocal range; soft pre-chorus harmonies, soaring chorus and aggressive verses. The mid part changes tack completely, with breathy vocals accompanying Lofstad's plucky acoustic breakdown, before exploding back with fierce vengeance for the final verse.

Storm in a Glass rocks up with a mainstream pop-rock approach. It has more in common with the first track on the record but presents softer tones.

Drifting Islands slams back into the hard rock lane and pushes hard on the accelerator. Soft verses are sandwiched between the crunching intro riff and pounding chorus.

Paragon is the first of two long tracks and blends acoustic led verses and big choruses. A story of being your best self, it's a quaint message that combines nicely with the style of the song. With a voice as capable as Jansen's, she expertly portrays both vulnerability and strength during each section.

Let Me Out sounds like it could be drawn from a Sixx A.M. record. A big, crunching riff sets up a groovy verse and a pop-rock ish chorus, before an avalanche of Jansen harmonies flows straight into another outstanding solo from Lofstad.

Big Boy is a dark, dirty, thumping track. The guitar tone is almost as sludgy as the subject matter (which Jansen says to take with a pinch of salt), and rhythmically is sure to have the crowd bouncing and head banging at shows.

Timebomb sums up the tone of the album in the opening seconds: a blood-pumping hard rock/metal riff followed by a soft verse. This track is easily the most diverse on the record. Heavy riffs bookend the pop-rock verses and it ends with a Jansen wail. It's chaotic, but that probably serves the title of and story of the song - a running theme.

Briddle Passion is heart-wrenching. A stripped back acoustic number with exceptionally emotional Jansen vocals. It's a well placed calm moment in the record, and despite the radical change in tempo, feels just as integral as the other songs.

I Need saunters into position with the building anticipation of bass and drums, before about 20 seconds in smashing you in the face with a massive riff and heart pounding rhythm from start to finish.

Northwards is the title track and is Jansen's story of traveling north from the Netherlands to Scandinavia to join Nightwish. It's a story we can all relate to; leaving our familiar surroundings behind to follow a dream, and while we may be excited, it can be an incredibly scary and uncertain time. At seven minutes in length it's got a prog element to it and is the closest Jansen's vocals come to matching what we're accustomed to hearing.

You can't complain about a lack of diverse songwriting on this record. From hard rock, to pop-rock, to a bit of prog, there's something for everyone.

Tuesday, 19 December 2017

Rews - Pyro album review

Guitar and drums duo, Rews, explode onto the scene with heavy riffs and poppy hooks that deserve far more credit than the rather one dimensional label of "the female Royal Blood".

When Brighton pair Royal Blood created an entirely new sound that drew both mainstream and old school rock fans with their critically acclaimed eponymous debut in 2014, the game changed. Black Sabbath, Deep Purple and Led Zeppelin style riffs and poppy choruses sewed together two so very separate parts of musical culture so inexplicably well that it was almost impossible to see how such an innovative sound could be further innovated. Well, up step REWS, there's a new player in the game.

Shauna Tohill (vocals, guitar and keys) and Collette Williams (drums and vocals) have seen Royal Blood's dirty blues-based gruff and raised them vocal harmonies. Adding such texture to the fuzzy pop cocktail presents you with an idea of what Heart could have sounded like if Tony Iommi, Ritchie Blackmore or Jimmy Page had collaborated.

They don't ever over do the harmonies though. Sometimes their intertwined voices are on show throughout and other times it's either lady on her own with the occasional word given a smattering of extra honey. Either way the tone is measured perfectly, with some songs only given a little extra and others a full blown scream fest - which is quite literally in the case on Violins.

Another avenue where Rews can't be compared to the Royal Blood blueprint is the sheer variety of tracks on offer - something Royal Blood haven't managed over two albums. Let It Roll goes full Sabbath from the intro, whereas Death Yawn (despite the morbidity of the title) is a far more up beat, poppy outing. Your Tears perfectly combines the two styles to produce a song that is both poppy and heavy in equal measure.

With ten songs squeezed into 32-minutes, Pyro is a firecracker of a record that serves to light the fuse of Rews' skyward rocket.

Rating - 4/5

Tuesday, 7 November 2017

Sons of Apollo - Psychotic Symphony album review

Prog Metal super-group, Sons of Apollo, surpass expectations as they explode onto the scene with debut long-player, Psychotic Symphony.

Since leaving Dream Theater in 2010, Mike Portnoy has had a fair few projects to keep himself busy - Adrenaline Mob, Flying Colours, Winery Dogs. Where Sons of Apollo has become more than a 'side project' is in the quality of the members; Derek Sherinian (ex-Dream Theater), Billy Sheehan (Winery Dogs, Mr. Big), Jeff Scott Soto (Trans-Siberian Orchestra, Yngwie Malmsteen, Journey) and Ron 'Bumblefoot' Thal (Guns 'n' Roses).

Connotations will be drawn with Dream Theater given Sherinian and Portnoy's involvement, but where SOA truly stands apart is in Soto's aggressive vocal style. The man is a beast of a singer, and while many of the songs on Psychotic Symphony are notable for their extensive instrumental sections - as you would expect from a prog album - when Soto is rattling his pipes he exudes the kind of aggressive vigour that a singer akin to James LaBrie can never deliver for Dream Theater.

While you would expect the flavour of this album to be purely prog metal - given the history of it's creator and leader, Portnoy - that's not entirely what we get. The influence of the undercard members - Sheehan and Bumblefoot - is felt with shorter songs firmly rooted in rock.

The album opens with a monster of a track: God of the Sun. An epic four part 11-minute Sherinian composition. It opens with a very middle eastern vibe, with Bumblefoot and Sherinian combining so effectively you can hardly tell when you're listening to a guitar or keyboard. From there Sheehan and Portnoy join the groove and pedal a driving, full-blooded beat. Soto comes in around the three minute mark with the story of the God of the Sun, which brings the end of part two. Part three is an atmospheric sea of soft tones - a total juxtaposition from the first five minutes. At seven minutes we are thrown back into the heavy melee we would expect from these players and after a slinky, John Petrucci-esque solo, the song closes with Soto's story once again. It's a tremendous way to open the album and sets a high standard for what's to come.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VHSUT-ClRo8

Coming Home couldn't be more of a departure from the opening track. We get a Val Halen ish keyboard riff, a scream, and then a more straight forward hard rock sound with Sheehan and Bumblefoot taking more of a driving seat with the crushing riff. The story goes that Sherinian wanted to do a U.K. angle with the song, but Portnoy preferred a more epic, big rock sound. It's the perfect song to be the first single - it grabs you and never lets go.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2troOCI5AAM

Signs of the Time meets the previous two tracks at a crossroads. It's similar in length to Coming Home but takes on more musical attributes from God of the Sun. The highlight is the insanely fast and technical two minute Bumblefoot solo. All of the solos on this record sound like an imitation of Petrucci, but that can only be the highest of praise for Bumblefoot who has openly said how intimidated he initially was by the band's musical style.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6EFROCoQYlc&t=3s

Labyrinth's opening is as different from the rest of the album as it's possible to get. Strings - in similar style to Eleanor Rigby - accompany a weak voice before Soto bellows and cues the ensuing kaleidoscope of progressive artistry. If there's a scale from 1-10 of 'proggyness' on this album, this would certainly sit at the high end. It twists, turns, ducks and dives so many times it's difficult to keep track of what's happening with the time signatures and who's doing what, but that pertains to just how talented these five musicians are to keep the composition so tight while flying full throttle on their respective instruments. My personal favourite part of this track is near the end when Bumblefoot's lethal arpeggios give way to vocal harmonies. It comes from nowhere and adds a little flourish to what is arguably the best track on Psychotic Symphony.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N-rCa1OMa3I&t=137s

The album takes a moment of calm with Alive, an almost David Gilmour-esque track in the way it's given plenty of room to breathe and is hugely emotive. Soto more than aptly shows his chops for metal on this record, but Alive is where we get to experience his vocal dexterity. Shaped more like a ballad, there are moments of musical heaviness but Soto's contribution comes in the form of softer, emotive vocals with accompanied Portnoy and Bumblefoot harmonies. Bumblefoot shines with the solo too. Completely stripped back and free of over driven shredding, he wafts through a wash of reverb and delicate picking.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NRnS1EzDVLQ

Amid the tempestuously chaotic riff, Lost In Oblivion has some moments of utter brilliance, particularly with a bass/guitar unison solo section between Sheehan and Bumblefoot. It's totally mesmerising. The contrast between the verse and chorus is interesting too, jumping between a heavy metal tone and almost pop. Soto's voice handles the change of tone brilliantly too, keeping a deep profile for the verse and rising for the chorus.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YyPQjVUVq4s

Figaro's Whore is Sherinian's shining individual moment on Psychotic Symphony. To best describe this keyboard solo is to compare it to Eddie Van Halen's Eruption. Sherinian's playing style is more that of a guitarist than pianist so when it comes to solos he sounds like he's channeling players such as Randy Rhodes, Jeff Beck and EVH. The song gets it's title from a section within the track that is inspired by Mozart's piece, Marriage of Figaro - as Sherinian has put it: "There had to have been a whore in the equation somwhere, so I wanted to cover that angle of the story!"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mQzX4QrIT94

Divine Addiction - of which Figaro's Whore acts as a prelude - has all the hallmarks of Deep Purple; big organ sound and quintessential 1970s hard rock riff. So quintessentially 70s in fact, Sheehan thought he'd heard it somewhere before. It's a credit to Sherinian's writing that he could compose a riff and melody so close to Deep Purple's iconic sound without plagiarising it!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nh2GSZOtaJU

Psychotic Symphony ends where the album started, with 10 minutes of complex prog, except this time it's an expansive instrumental: Opus Maximus. It's pompous, pretentious, self indulgent, self aggrandising and totally ridiculous. One thing's for sure, it'll be a heinous bastard to play live!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3addS-uEkmo

In the build up to release, Sons of Apollo have been labelled a 'super-group', purely because of the names associated with it, but with this record they have shown they are worth far more than the cliched term would suggest. We shouldn't be surprised - given the lineup - that their musicianship alone sets the new standard of prog metal.

Saturday, 14 October 2017

Black Country Communion - BCCIV album review

Black Country Communion aren't and have never been a standard rock band. Comprised of four of the greatest musicians alive today, the super group have undoubtedly become the standard bearers of exceptionally well crafted, soulful rock songs since they joined forces in 2010. BCCIV only further cements their already impressive legacy.

From the ashes, rises a majestic phoenix
After a somewhat acrimonious and rancorous split in 2013 over how seriously band members were taking BCC as a full time project - or not in Joe Bonamassa's case - it seems a perfect example of absence making the heart grow fonder. Or, more accurately, the musical chemistry.

It's worth pointing out that without the split we wouldn't have had some incredible solo albums - Bonamassa's Blue Of Desparation and Glenn Hughes' Resonate - but given how the split happened it was probably for the best anyway.

It's fitting however that the album cover is a phoenix rising from the ashes; a tad self indulgent but at the same time couldn't be more appropriate.

BCCIV kicks off with the sole single Collide. With John Bonham's son Jason behind the skins it's unsurprising a good amount of this album has a Zeppy feel but nowhere is that influence more obvious than here. It cuts a striking resemblance to Black Dog with Bonamassa's tumbling riff but Glenn Hughes gives the song a different dimension with his soaring vocals. It's the shortest song bar one on this record but by golly does it make up for that with out and out power.

Last Song For My Resting Place is the first example on this disc of the long form song structure we've come to expect from BCC. At eight minutes it's certainly an epic and it's bolstered by the strength of the song writing. Accompanied by a mandolin and fiddle and backing vocals courtesy of Hughes, Bonamassa tells the story of Wallace Hartley - the man who played his violin as the mighty Titanic sank into the icy Atlantic waters. The song glides effortlessly through four minutes at a solemn pace before it kicks into high gear with a dark and dramatic Bonamassa solo. It's a classic for the BCC archives, no doubt.

L to R: Joe Bonamassa, Glenn Hughes, Jason Bonham and Derek Sherinian
Don't let the musical grandiosity of The Cove fool you: it's a song about Hughes' love of dolphins. While I have no issue with the subject in itself, it's not the standard of songwriting we've come to expect from BCC. It's dressed up with Hughes' signature wailing but it's sadly one of the weakest songs the quintet have produced - which given the standard they've accrued still makes it a decent track.

All is well again on follow up track The Crow. A pounding riff slaps you in the face and reminds you just what BCC are capable of. The relay of solos midway through are the highlight; first a groovy bass solo from Hughes, followed by the shimmering organ of Derek Sherinian and capped off by Bonamassa.

Love Remains is a simply written, somber tribute Hughes wrote to his father on his way to his memorial service. Sadly, when he went to record it his mother died and so the song became a homage to both. Hughes almost imitates a choir with his angelic vocals on the chorus. It's a touching song that adds nuance to an otherwise hard edged album.

Awake is the best track on the record from a technical viewpoint. It's the perfect example of all four musicians in tune with each other - interweaving fiddly riffs around a high speed tempo.

The album closes with When The Morning Comes. It offers a brilliant juxtaposition between Bonamassa, Bonham and Sherinian's Zep driven riff and Hughes' chilled out vocals. Bonamassa gets his heavy blues solo in, Bonham's fluid fills and dappled throughout Sherinian's delicate piano - it's a triumph of song writing and composition. Sherinian - who maintains a a fairly low profile throughout BCCIV - shines on this track for his dexterity of style. One verse he's playing a light and airy organ to accompany Hughes and the next he's delivering a searing Jon Lord style Deep Purple solo.

I really hope BCC stick together for the long haul. They are one of the best bands in the world but it remains to be seen if the phoenix will continue to soar or disappear into the ash once again.

Friday, 3 February 2017

Rival Sons Live at Cambridge Junction

The comparisons between the very first live show I saw and the most recent are startling.

In 2011, I was introduced to Led Zeppelin's The Song Remains The Same film, shot at Madison Square Garden in the summer of 1973. The inhabitants of the Mothership were at their peak, jet-setting across the globe, considered Gods among men. That live performance was everything rock music should be; controlled but completely unleashed and primal in the same token. The cohesion of Page, Plant, JPJ and Bonham was mesmerising, magical and magnificent, holding 20,000 in awed spectators in the palm of their hand and feeding off the electricity that filled the air that night in New York. At Cambridge Junction, some 44 years later, in front of some 19,250 fewer people, Rival Sons had the same effect. 

Credit: Jane Dawson
Rival Sons - who many have coined the new Led Zeppelin - have evolved immeasurably since their Earache label debut album, Pressure and Time, in 2011. Head Down (2012) and Great Western Valkyrie (2014) were great albums in their own right, but are mere thumbnails in time compared to the soulful sensation of Hollow Bones (2016): their Led Zeppelin IV to continue the analogy.

Credit: Jane Dawson
The Long Beach, California, quartet (quintet when you include keyboardist and beard enthusiast Todd Ogren-Brooks) opened with the first three tracks from Hollow Bones; Hollow Bones Pt.1, Tied Up and Thundering Voices.

Great Western Valkyrie got a generous showing throughout the night too, getting as many track plays as Hollow Bones; the raucous Electric Man, the infectiously groovy Secret - one of my absolute favourite Rival Sons songs - Belle Star, the beautiful Where I've Been - in memory of a dearly departed friend - and Open My Eyes, which borrows its drum intro heavily from Zep's When the Levee Breaks: that's no bad thing, mind.

Two thirds through the set, we heard three tracks that Rival Sons recorded right at the beginning of their careers; Tell Me Something, Face Of Light and Torture. For songs written before any of their big hits, I was bowled over by the greatness of these tracks. Tell Me Something and Torture are what you would normally expect from Rival Sons, whereas Face Of Light is reminiscent of Zep's The Rain Song, albeit almost half the length.

Heading into the final stretch, Rival Sons played the penultimate track from Hollow Bones, Hollow Bones Pt. 2 - a frenzied seven minute number that's so chaotic it's incredible the band members keep it together. It's hard rocking, but also quiet and reserved in spots before erupting again, with Jay screaming various religious affirmations at the top of his lungs.

Finally, the Sons played their first single from Head DownKeep On Swinging. This was also the first song I'd heard of theirs after being recommended to listen to them. It's easy sing-along chorus was a great way to end the show.

What comes across so marvelously in a live environment is their ability to be in the "pocket". To get to a place within the music where they're so comfortable that they could be at the O2 Arena or practicing at home, it still oozes the same gut wrenching passion and soul that sucks you in and leaves you yearning for more. 

Credit: Jane Dawson
The comparisons between the individual members of Rival Sons and Led Zeppelin are interesting to explore too. You almost don't notice Rival Sons' bassist, Dave Beste, in the best possible way. He's unassuming but incredibly crucial, piping up occasionally for backing vocal duties. Michael Miley on drums looks and plays more similarly to John Bonham than he'd probably be comfortable admitting - even ripping through a long Moby Dick style solo a la The Song Remains The Same while his band mates enjoy a rest. The comparison with Scott Holiday and Jimmy Page isn't in playing style especially, but in the way they experiment with sounds. For Page it was a theremin and using a celo bow over his guitar strings, for Holiday it's the plethora of pedals that bestow him the nickname 'Fuzz Lord'. Lastly, but by no means least, Jay Buchanan is the first front man in decades to revitalise the character of the 1970s. Not in the way he thrusts his 'pocket rocket' like Robert Plant, but the way he leaves you hanging on every word, howling and shrieking as if his body has been possessed by the spirit of the music: it's utterly, irresistibly, sensational.

Jay said at the end of the gig, rather beautifully I think: "We've been opening for Black Sabbath for 18 months, and that's so cool, but nothing beats this! It's so much more intimate and we love it."