FEIST (Shepherd's Bush Empire, 24/09/07)


It’s a brave artist who dispatches her best-known tune only two songs into their set and what’s more, plays it solo. But Canadian songstress and Broken Social Scene collaborator Lesley Feist carried off her stripped-down rendition of Mushaboom with aplomb, making up for the instrumental deficiency with sheer charisma. Although somewhat dwarfed by the Shepherd’s Bush stage (she’s realllllly little), within that tiny frame lies enough charm to win over the most hardened of hearts; more importantly she has the songs to back it up, despite their propensity to appear in every ad campaign on God’s earth.

Her voice may not be as rich or unique as some of her peers, and her tendency to fumble shifts between registers robs it of true excellence, but there’s a husky, soulful quality there that recalls less manic-depressive Chan Marshall. What’s more striking is her vivaciousness in both vocals and manner- she’s a natural performer who gives her all on stage, but takes care to not take herself too seriously. Not afraid to indulge in banter, including the brilliant exchange:

FEIST: This is the part of the show where I get to know the audience.
AUDIENCE MEMBER (shouts): We’re all single!

she even finds room to fit an wonderfully elaborate marriage proposal into the set. (Story goes, Feist asks whether there were any “mean piano players” in the audience, making it out as if was something she did at every show; Chinese guy comes on stage, blows everyone away with a virtuoso piano display and promptly pops the question to his girlfriend. Everyone cheers, massive round of applause – the lady in question, of course, said yes.)



None of this would have mattered if the performance itself hadn’t been up to scratch, but true to form, she produced an fantastic set full of exuberance and vitality. Although her slower tracks occasionally lacked spark the general quality was superb, Feist infusing her songs with a genuine passion sometimes absent in her recorded stuff. This was only enhanced by her talented backing band who deftly provided her songs with the evocative arrangements they deserved but were professional enough to stay out of the limelight. If there was one point of criticism however, it would have been the questionable decision to wrap proceedings up with ‘Let It Die’. As fine a song as that is, it was a peculiarly subdued note to end on given how upbeat the rest of the set was; the stunning soulful exuberance of 'Sealion' or the sublime sing-a-long '1-2-3-4' would have been far more fitting. But that couldn’t spoil what was an otherwise marvellous night, showcasing one of the music scene’s most magnetic singers this side of the Wainwrights. Ubiquitous she might be but on the strength of this, who’s complaining?

ARCHITECTURE IN HELSINKI (London Koko, 10/09/07)



Sometimes less is just less. Having discarded their lorry-load of instruments and two members since their last album, hyperactive Australians Architecture in Helsinki have struggled to capture the madcap brilliance of their previous work. Whilst their Leeds show in 2005 was an absolute blinder, their effort at KCLSU in June was an upsettingly bland affair, shorn of the creativity and child-like joy of old. However, I was willing to give them another chance, and I have to say things have got better, if not as much as once could have hoped.

The first third of the set didn't bode well, relying too much on new material with lusterless results. Sure, they’re more proficient musicians nowadays, but compared to the idiosyncratic, wonderfully creative old-style shows with their constant instrument swapping and huge range of sounds they couldn’t help but seem a little dreary with their uninspired new set-up. Thankfully about the 25-minute mark they suddenly found their groove, loosened up a bit and started to channel the screwball spirit of old-school AiH, to the benefit of all concerned. Frontman Cameron Bird, prone to taking himself far too seriously actually engaged in banter with the audience, the band started to look like they were enjoying themselves and they unleashed the songs everyone wanted to hear- Frenchy I’m Faking, It 5, The Cemetery and a completely mental Nevereverdid, which happily erased memories of the lacklustre rendition a few months back. If only they hadn’t gutted their centrepiece single Do The Whirlwind, replacing its fantastic singalong outro (one of my all-time gig highlights when they played it in ’05) with an instrumental jam, completely killing the excellent atmosphere in the process. Coming so precariously close to snatching defeat from the jaws of victory, they managed to finish on a high with the marvellous Heart It Races, which got everyone singing along to its stupidly infectious chant of “BOOM-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA, BOOM-DA-DA-DA-DA!” If only all their new songs were so gleeful, then AiH would still be unmissable. As it stands now, they’re merely enjoyable, nothing more.

REGINA SPEKTOR (Royal Festival Hall, 07/09/07)



Irreverently eschewing the down-and-dirty realism of trad folk for a more whimsical perspective on life, Regina Spektor is the foremost representative the burgeoning anti-folk movement. Her natural charm and literate, off-kilter style are enough to merit attention on their own, but it’s that astonishing voice, blessed with both enviable range and incredible flexibility that marks her out as one of the shining lights of contemporary singer-songwriting. Accentuating her New Yorker drawl for the rollicking numbers or playing up her roots for her more Russian-influenced work; hitting angelic high notes with cut-glass clarity or punctuating melodies with guttural vocal tics- it’s a voice that has more dimensions and character than almost any other songstress one could care to name.

It’s a versatility that’s finely complimented by the variety of her material. Skewed, but acutely personal, offbeat but not abstract, her lyrics are a world away from the over-earnest hogwash of Katie Melua or James Blunt. Poignant ballads like Samson intermingle with surreally comic romps like Baby Jesus; the charming Ghosts of Corporate Future manages to be both funny and oddly touching, whilst the Slavic drama of Apres Moi is as dark and forbidding as Siberian winter. The ultra-polished production of most recent album “Begin To Hope” is stripped away by the minimalist set-up of grand piano and singer; the multi-layered instrumentation giving way to inventive arrangements and creative vocalisations, and even her string-driven masterpiece Us loses little of its beauty in a bare bones rendition. There are times that she skirts dangerously close to the abyss of self-conscious kookiness, perhaps appending an incongruous scat-line or vocal eccentricity when simplicity would have worked better but one can forgive her these occasional indulgences when the vast majority is of such consistently high quality. There's no denying her quirkiness may not appeal to everyone, but for the rest of us, Regina’s the best thing to come out of Russia since Smirnoff.

BROKEN SOCIAL SCENE (London Scala, 05/09/07)


When I first saw Canadian indie collective Broken Social Scene in 2006, I described their set as '10% pretentious nonsense, 60% goodness, 30% pure brilliance'. Fast-forward to September 2007, when the much-reduced band returned to these fair isles to support Kevin Drew’s new disc “Spirit If…,” and one finds that the proportions have now shifted to ‘10% mild brilliance, 50% goodness, 40% Kevin chatting utter bollocks.’

Which is a shame, as it started off very well indeed. The first few songs were the same fuzzy, dense indie pop that old-school BSS made their own, but punchier and more focused than before. This shift in songwriting seems to reflect the slimmed down line-up (only 6 members, no Arts and Crafts ladies and no strings or brass), and in many ways it’s a good move; the self-indulgent tendencies that marred some of their older work has been excised. But they’re obviously not all that comfortable with the material yet and the set took a notable dive when Brendan Canning's mic failed during his turn in the spotlight. This knock seemed to affect their confidence and didn't really recover their form until near the end, when they finally wheeled out the hits (Lover's Spit, Superconnected, Major Label Debut (Fast Version)). Kevin’s nervousness was written all over the performance; he kept babbling about being under 'no pressure' and as the night progressed and increasing volumes of alcohol were imbibed, he became even less coherent, spouting rubbish when they could have been playing songs. And even though he kept on talking about the need to do different things, the band actually looked happiest and most animated when playing the classics- a feeling emphatically shared by the audience. One suspects that if they worked out a superior balance of old and new material, the quality of the set would improve dramatically- not to knock Spirit If…, but generally fans will respond more positively to new stuff if it’s interspersed with stuff they can sing along to.

So ultimately this comeback proved to be a bit of a damp squib; we all knew it was never going to compare with the legendary shows of old but nonetheless it could, and should’ve been better. Still, if they can get their performance to match the quality of their heckler responses (inviting the offender up on stage to waltz!) then there’s no reason that BSS-Lite has to remain in the shadow of its bigger, brasher parent. But make no mistake- there’s a lot of work to be done.

ST. VINCENT (London 229 Bar, 04/09/07)


Having donned multi-coloured robes with the Polyphonic Spree, toured as part of Sufjan Steven’s backing band and opened for Arcade Fire on their last American tour, Annie Clark is no stranger to top-quality music. Finally striking out on her own under the monicker ‘St. Vincent’, her recently released debut LP “Marry Me” has garnered critical acclaim with songwriting that combines the quirky charm of Regina Spektor with an ambitious degree of eclecticism. Her live performance shows another side to Miss Clark; although she has a wide range of instruments on record, at the 229 she had nothing but an electric guitar, one of those hi-tech drum panel things and a few effects pedals to support her. As a result, the show tended towards the experimental and to be honest, some of it didn’t quite work- there were more than a few occasions where one felt that, despite her ingenuity, her songs would be better served with backing musicians. But the majority was impressively well done- at one point she appended an unexpected post-rock outro to one of her songs with marvellous effect, her guitar work was inventive and her vocals were unimpeachable (although far too low in the mix at times). Disappointing that there was no room to fit the sublime 'Marry Me' into the short (45 minute) set, but her effortless charm made it easy to forgive the sad oversight. Hopefully she’ll find room for it when she supports the National in November; it’d be nice if she’d also pick up a band on the way.

THE POLYPHONIC SPREE (London Astoria, 03/09/07)



In the far off mists of 2004, a younger, slimmer, more financially responsible me first witnessed the wondrous Polyphonic Spree in concert; an event that instigated the gig obsession that’s been the bane of my bank account ever since. So, when I found out they were touring again after a two-year hiatus, I jumped at the chance to check them out. Fears that Tim DeLaughter’s technicolour mob (now shorn down to a mere 18 members) would have lost their euphoric edge immediately proved unfounded- even though the robes of old have given way to cod-military uniforms and their new material is tinged with hints of darkness.

Like the equally brilliant I’m From Barcelona, the Spree are essentially a one-note band; happy-clappy melodies, grandoise orchestration (including a string quartet, a full brass section, two drum kits and a harp) and a judicious use of confetti but they’re such unadulterated fun it’s not an issue. Introduced by a Brian Blessed lookalike bellowing bad poetry at the audience, The Fragile Army launched straight into fantastic new single “Running Away,” the first of many of the tracks played from the new album. The quality of the material was generally excellent (if a bit repetitive) but a couple of tracks were less than stellar- luckily, for every duff new song, there was a classic from the back catalogue to make up for it. The sublime It’s The Sun provided the evening’s most glorious movement, transforming from an acoustic campfire ballad into, well, a polyphonic spree but Soldier Girl, with a fittingly militaristic makeover, gave it a run for its money.

The encore saw the band march through the audience (both on the balcony and through the stalls) clad in the classic white robes of yore before treating us to the anthemic Light And Day. But it was their inspired cover of Nirvana’s Lithium that really got the audience going, the whole venue transforming into one big happy mosh-pit. Shame they almost ruined things by going off on a self-indulgent tangent with half-arsed attempts at audience participation and uncomfortable, rambling speeches by DeLaughter but they redeemed themselves by ending on an impromptu rendition of Tripping Daisy’s ‘Sonic Bloom’, a gesture much appreciated by the more zealous amongst the faithful. As delightfully choreographed as the rest of the show was, it was a spontaneous moment like that that, for me, underlined the Spree’s reputation as the happiest band on Earth.

Support came from Ox.Eagle.Lion.Man, whose dreadful monicker belied a band that actually had some decent melodies under its belt. However, their musical prowess was somewhat overshadowed by the fact they had one of the most ludicrous frontmen I’ve ever seen; the bastard lovechild of Jarvis Cocker and Alan Partridge. One of the more interesting supports I’ve seen in a while…