My mate Andy used to live in Manchester. As we drive through the city, he points out various landmarks. I'm too polite to tell him he points out the same ones every time we come here. I suppose I'm doing it now. SMILEYFACE.
So I learn that the blue plaque outside the old site of the Haçienda celebrates James and their hit single Sit Down. This is akin to Liverpool having a blue plaque on it that celebrates The Searchers and their hit single Needles And Pins.
We drive past a nondescript looking bar on our left hand side.
"I saw Flaming Lips play there."
The story of rock 'n' roll is inextricably linked to the big cities of the world that amplified it from an Ascent of Man-style series of increasingly bigger stages.
And when a city like Manchester is riddled with stories like this, the fact that a star of international magnitude is playing here – and, at that, in the rather small but well-appointed Academy 3 – doesn't even warrant a shrug of its mighty concrete shoulders.
I think Charlotte Church would approve of this. She's three (fine) EPs into redefining herself in terms of a music that she wants to make. This transformation has been done away from the spotlight that has been shone on her for over half of her life. Manchester shrugging its shoulders is fine by Charlotte, for the moment, I imagine.
Support on this short UK tour comes from Ewloe's Golden Fable. It's really difficult – even for a serial adjective abuser like me – to find the right word to accurately describe them and their music. 'Effulgent' would be a poncey but accurate choice.
Their music is filled with light – and Rebecca's crystalline voice is something that hypnotises with its sparkles and flashes. 'Dreamy' captures the one dimension of their sound... but their new live drummer brings a muscularity that gives them a very un-somnambulant power.
Always Golden and Sugarloaf sound artful and exquisite. This is music to swoon to. The couple of new songs that they play sound less ethereal and intrigue for their almost-completed second album.
Is one of the new songs called Apple Hinge? I don't know. I probably need to get my ears syringed.
I interviewed Charlotte Church a few weeks ago. I called her brave. She sounded - initially - a little perplexed by the notion. I imagine that when you've sung for presidents, testified to the Leveson Inquiry, been shamefully exploited and lied about by the tabloid press and had the minutiae of your family life hung out for the scurrilous to gawp at, having the courage to record music that sounds like Talking Heads invoking the spirit of Talk Talk may not seem like a brave thing at all. But to me it is.
She's a woman who has lived enough for three separate lifetimes and still isn't 30. It is of no small wonder that she has managed to come out of it with eyes that sparkle rather than cut like sharpened flints.
There are ideas, twists and surprises at every turn in Charlotte's set. I'm reducing it to the singular but this is very much a band affair. In every aspect other than her remarkable voice, Charlotte is a few step's further back than you would find any other internationally renowned and recognised artist – clearly loving every moment of presenting this idiosyncratic and utterly original music to people – but ensuring that the limelight is shared by her eloquent band.
There are a bewildering array of textures and dynamics on display. Songs that veer from Sigur Rós ambience to soulful drum and bass, to the kind of urban-flavoured pop music that blares out of Saturday night bars from Cardiff to Krakow.
Charlotte introduces a song about quantum physics called Entanglement that is shameless in its musical audacity. There is a cover of Ultra Nate's Free that subtly underlines that, despite the rich experimentalism evident in the rest of the set, the band's heads aren't trapped in a tangle of rectal mixolydian scales. A pop nous silvers the more progressive moments of the set alleviating any danger of muso freefall.
I didn't catch the title of the song after Entanglement but whatever it was, it was one of the finest pieces of live music I've witnessed all year. I think it's from Charlotte's next EP. It sounded like Shakira fronting Talking Heads. Yes, that good.
General opinion amongst my seasoned gig-going friends is that there's a little too much going on. I disagree. I appreciate the fact that I'm being challenged. The polyrhythms, atonal bursts of guitar or synth, and cryptic vocal melodies inveigle their way into me rather than try to dumbly patronise my affections. I love that. Give me that over a thousand Vaccines or Strypes any day of the week.
Well, most days of the week, anyway.
The songs mightn't be hooky on first listen but that's something for which Radiohead have been lauded for over a decade. Something like Sparrow's cinematic sweep becomes an easy bedfellow for your heart and your brain after you've listened to the EP it originates from a handful of times.
But here's the musical challenge for Charlotte and band: the majority of the people here seem to be here for reasons other than the music. They clap politely in between the songs. Perhaps I'm being unkind but the audience seem disengaged, here for voyeuristic reasons rather a communal celebration of music.
When you have Charlotte's gravity it's inevitable that people will come to your shows for a multitude of different reasons. Charlotte and band are happy to welcome one and all – even the men at the front of the stage who film the entire show on their phones, hardly even clapping between songs. It's somewhat disconcerting. It's also the reason why I took no photos of Charlotte. I don't want to add to the malaise that I'm criticising.
I think this fascinating, uncompromising music deserves more than that. Charlotte's attitude appears to be sanguine: "This is the music I want to make. People will come to hear it on its own merits, eventually." That's my interpretation of her philosophy. Perhaps it's more instinctive than that. The whole band are very much lost in the music they're making - and understandably so.
The band finish with Glitterbombed. What a tune. Ultravox's Vienna purloined by a Valleys Bjork. What's not to love about that?
I got outside for a 'breath of air'. Charlotte and Jonathan are doing the same. If the paps were here, the headline tomorrow would be: SHAMELESS CHARLOTTE SPREADS CANCER FUMES TO STUDENTS (see inside for pictures of Charlotte in a bikini). I want to go over and tell them how much I enjoyed their set but I decide not to. Moments of privacy must be rare. Almost as rare as the excellent individuality of their music.
