A grand tour-de-force journey through the seminal work by The Streets was an electrifying and unforgettable night at Scarborough’s Open Air Theatre.
An electric energy buzzed through the Scarborough Open Air Theatre crowd, rowdy and ready for the streets. This tour is a unique experience to see A Grand Don’t Come For Free in its entirety; an album that sent Mike Skinner into the mainstream, cemented him as a cult hero and opened the door for musical storytelling like no other. The night was a tale in two halves, as he took us from drama to the dance floor in one seamless swoop. An absolute masterclass in album exploration and maybe the most fun we’ve ever had.
Pulling on the dance/ grime side of the Streets discography, the opening double-bill transformed the seaside stage into a bouncing club. Jimothy Lacoste opened the night with a high octane MC set, mixing solid dance beats with his electric personality. CASISDEAD followed, he immediately captivated the crowd, with undeniable musicality and his heavy grime/dance base.
The Streets are undeniably a cornerstone of the young, working-class experience. It’s made Skinner a hero to so many and you can see it, in the anticipation buzzing through the air, the almost-nervous chatter as we await his entrance. It’s in the eerie feeling of the just-before where you can tell we’re in for something special tonight. He is an artist who conceptualised the themes of growing up a-new, melting genres and spitting out something singular.
A black curtain rises to reveal the bus stop of the A Grand Don’t Come For Free album cover; so simple yet striking. An image burnt into the retina of 00s pop culture and, little did we know, Skinner would transform this bus stop from club, to domestic bliss, to a confession booth and back again within the next hour. The crowd roars to see this iconic album brought to life and when the fanfare of brass shoots in for It Was Supposed To Be So Easy, we loose it!
The whining opening line cements Skinner’s presence, his absolute commitment to his storytelling and world creation; just a glimpse of what the rest of the evening has in store. We’re launched into his airtight lyrics as he swaggers around the set, Skinner is an apparition right now, a haunting of the man who wrote these songs. He does not introduce himself to the Scarborough crowd or acknowledge the show itself, tonight he has created a world we must enter, immerse and succumb to the performance of it all. The taunting chorus comes in and the crowd bellows along, ‘it was supposed to be so easy’ letting us know Skinner is a showman tonight in every capacity.
Skinner was joined on stage by the Streets’ band, made up of drums, keys and guitar. With the strings and brass, so distinct to an array of the Streets’ tracks, part of the backing recording used throughout. So quintessential to the performance were the female and male vocalist that accompanied Skinner, there to flesh out the characters of A Grand Don’t Come For Free including, and perhaps most poignantly, Skinner’s inner dialogue.
Our only interaction with Skinner, at this point, is him scrawling a message across the bus stop glass; the cave painting of the modern day, the pages of those who are never published. ‘You invented Google’ he signs off with the Streets. Maybe, a comment of how far we’ve moved technology from the album’s release. Maybe, our constant yearning to know but not understand. And just maybe, all of that or nothing at all! What I know for sure, is that Skinner’s music is political, cultural and he is making a comment on the world of today.
He takes us to the club for Blinded By The Lights, the heavy bass driving the tension of the track as we ping-pong between Skinner’s narration and the melody of ‘lights are blinding my eyes.’ Skinner utilises the full band to create utterly immersive musical storytelling; a frenzy of voices and building bass that somehow melts together euphoria and panic through this track. He jolts about the stage like a man possessed as he creates this moment of youthful joy and loneliness.
The driving drums and percussive guitar, so very iconic, build in for Fit But You Know It. A swaying, well-oiled crowd is set alight, spitting out the verses in perfect nonchalance, just as our guide, Skinner, does. The signature the Streets swagger is on full display as he owns the stage and the song is given every bit of charisma it deserves. The male vocals echo back to Skinner, as we begin to see double in the kebab shop he’s summoned on stage, sharing between them the ‘don’t touch me’ and ‘we’ve all had a few;’ Skinner’s consciousness and reality colliding in the drunken world he’s created. The electric performance ends with the male vocalist toppling about, slurring ‘I’m going to fall over,’ a funny yet perceptive end to this raucous tune, and leaving Skinner silently complicit in his downfall.
A funky guitar plays us out of Fit But You Know It, morphing into the dissonant, panic-filled opening of Such A Twat. It’s the sombre morning-after realisation; the bus stop becoming his confession booth as the narrative turns to the stark, the blinding reality of his decisions. It’s at this moment that the mastery of this album performance is confirmed. It is storytelling at its finest – it’s the moral reckoning and it is heartbreaking to watch. In every breath we believe Skinner is ripping himself apart – even more astounding 20 years later – he’s built songs that withstand the passage of time and performs them as if they are slipping from his mind in real time.
Dry Your Eyes Mate is the guttural climax of the evening. Skinner reflects ‘it wasn’t supposed to be easy’ as he pours out his heart in front of us. The gentle melody of the chorus calls out something he isn’t quite yet ready to hear, the bold backing vocals holding him up in this moment. The final chorus comes around and he steps back for the crowd to sing out the final ‘you’ve got to walk away now’ as he falls silent watching the mantra filling the air.
The album’s end comes with Empty Cans, a punching revolt to the sadness, anger and confusion flying from every corner. He spits out ‘no-one gives a crap about Mike, that’s why I’m acting nasty’, a moment of childlike frustration, and total vulnerability in his unadmirable response. It’s the reality and sincerity he lays out in every track of this album that has made tonight’s performance utterly arresting. His staccato delivery falls, as he mellows into the reflection of the narrative, his imperfect reckonings the very core of this album and a powerful end. It truly is ‘the end of something I did not want to end’, as the album draws to its close. The band come forward for their standing ovation, and sing out the final ‘and this is the start of what was’ into the echoing acapella.
The applause is deafening for a performance unlike anything I’ve ever experienced; truly artistic, infinitely smart and laced with vulnerability making for a monumental experience. Then we are left with an empty stage, the heady hangover of the last hour lingering on.
Then, the almighty strings come in. The crowd erupts, we know what it is, we know we’re about to switch key and Turn The Page. If we were mesmerised observers for A Grand Don’t Come For Free, now we’ve been unleashed, to journey through noughties nightlife with some of the biggest tunes that have ever been! The relentless dance beat mixed with driving strings and Skinner’s spitting, bring this track alive. It’s songs like these that made people love the Streets and tonight he’s giving it everything he’s got!
It’s after this rapturous performance that Skinner introduces himself for the first time, pulling us and himself out of the 2005 vignette, for tonight’s party. He might be ‘45th generation Roman’, but we’re on a Viking settlement in Scarborough, he tells us, so beware! Maybe, a warning to himself the most, as the energy in the crowd amps up tenfold. In these snippets of information he shares, it’s obvious Skinner is a sponge to every bit of information, emotion, experience; and it manifests in these pin-point perceptions that hit deep but don’t have us swimming.
The crowd is volcanic as he moves into Who’s Got The Bag. The thumping jungle beat kicks in and from the pit to the high heavens the people are dancing, moving to the instinctual beat. Thousands of people following Skinner in his punching staccato of poems turned dance tracks.
He beckons the crowd into a mexican wave, the cult hero status making his wish our command, as energy (and the mexican wave) ripples through the crowd. We’re held on his every word, every movement; a magic drawing us together. Lights dancing from the seats above, and Scarborough Open Air Theatre has become a noughties dance floor, sweaty and dark and full of adrenaline. He runs through the crowd, our everyman prophet, as he takes to the rafters, making sure every person in this crowd feels the electricity.
The distinct vocals of Has It Come To This cut through. The cult classic echoing through the sea side air. Skinner is lost in the crowd and he calls on us to lose ourselves to the music tonight – and the people do! Security remove the railing and the crowd spills into one unit of dance and energy and joy. We’re electric and at Skinner’s every whim as he rides his own wave in a crowd surf across the pit, never missing a beat, these songs, these stories so easily spilling out of him.
The night closes with Take Me As I Am; his epic. A melting pot of genre and emotion, a microcosm of the evening. He’s taken us on an emotional, joyous journey and this is one final chance for release. Its dance and gospel and poetry and its an enveloping final performance – showcasing his willingness to skate between genres and settle on nothing, becoming an anomaly of truth. Tonight we have taken him as he is, yet still we must watch him go!
