THE BEST LIVE ACTS OF TWO THOUSAND AND SEVEN



Last year, I saw a rather worrying number of musical acts and here, for your delectation, are the fifty that impressed me most. Some deserving bands have been left off, and Fiona will disagree with half of those who’ve been left on, but eh, you’re never going to please everyone. Anyway, without further ado, I present the List O’ Gigs (2007 Edition):

50. THOSE DANCING DAYS
The Swedes have a natural talent for writing catchy, joyous pop, and Those Dancing Days are another fine export from their musically-fertile shores. Although they looked way too young to be allowed into the Water Rats (I swear they must be, like, 14) their proficiency and confidence belied their age, although they did have an endearing habit of collapsing into giggles at the slightest opportunity. Their eponymous single was the cue for spontaneous dance party madness through the venue and not even a host of technical hitches could ruin one of the more low-key success stories of ‘07.

49. LIAM FROST
The first show of last year, but that’s no reason to forget it. The portly, dishevelled Mancunian occasionally emo-ed it up too much for his own good, but his intensely personal lyrics and string-drenched folk worked fantastically in the intimate environs of the (now sadly departed) Spitz. The Mourners of St. Paul’s pulled at the heartstrings like few other songs this year, and Frost came across as a genuinely top bloke- I can’t imagine many artists stand by the door to thank their audience after a show.

48. LOS CAMPESINOS!
Gareth Campesino’s whiny vocals can grate, and a little more variety wouldn’t go amiss but Los Campesinos! are easily one of the better NME hype bands out there. Their technicolour indie is full of carefree, ramshackle charm, and fantabulous single You! Me! Dancing, complete with hotly-tipped Leeds outfit Sky Larkin on percussion duties, instigated one of the more amusingly localised moshpits of the year.

47. LONEY, DEAR
Bolstering the disproportionately large Scandinavian presence on this list, the folky Swedish five-piece have been 2007’s most prolific support band, appearing no less than four times in opening spots throughout the year. Thankfully, their lovely harmonising and lilting vocals has never failed to delight, and although Emil Svanängen has a tendency to overdo the staccato vocal gymnastics, there’s a sweetness and innocence about them missing from most home-grown music.

46. AKRON/FAMILY
Doing more with three musicians as many bands do with six, Akron/Family are one of a handful of bands that genuinely defy description. Although billed as psych-folk (whatever that means), their actual style wildly glides through the entire spectrum of modern music, veering from pleasant acoustic balladry to distorted feedback chaos (often during the same song). Needless to say, the quality’s pretty variable; where they’re good they’re very, very good but when they’re bad they’re nigh-on unlistenable. Then again, any band that’d rather dance to Prince with random audience members than soundcheck are pretty cool in my book.

45. THE DIRTY PROJECTORS
The epitome of the Marmite band, The Dirty Projectors are the kind of act made to split opinion. Watching an unfeasibly lanky bloke wails his way through Black Flag covers whilst two girls support him with crystal-clear harmonies may seem the height of pretension and yeah, sometimes they’re pretty hard going but they’re a fascinating and sometimes quite wonderful act to watch.

44. THE OUTSIDE ROYALTY
Described as a cross between Arcade Fire and Pulp, it was inevitable that my interest would be piqued by this up-and-coming Anglo-American six-piece. And, although they’re nowhere near the quality of those bands (yet), they’ve got enough going for them to indicate a very bright future. Adam Billing’s breathless vocals can be overwrought to the point of irritation and formulaic song-structures rule them out from bonafide genius, but otherwise their synthy, orchestral pop and vibrant performance mark them out as the most impressive unsigned live band I’ve seen. In particular, their Arcade Fire-goes-punk cover of Eleanor Rigby is amazing, worthy of being spoken in the same breath as the original. If their own compositions can reach the giddy heights of that, then stardom is within their grasp.

43. 65DAYSOFSTATIC
The Sheffield-based purveyors of ear-melting math-rock were one of the great musical discoveries of ’06 for me, and their headline show at the Koko lived up to expectations with pounding irregular time signatures, spectral synths and relentless drumming being delivered at earth-rupturing volume. But the derivative nature of their new tracks suggests a band swiftly running out of ideas; there wasn’t a single new track that didn’t sound like a re-run of an older one and although the likes of “Retreat! Retreat!” remain mind-blowing, one can’t but wonder if they’ve run out of places to go.

42. BRIGHT EYES
For those with an allergy to screaming fangirls with stupid fringes and reckless addiction to eyeliner, I’d strongly advise avoiding Bright Eyes gigs. But despite his qualities as an emo-magnet, Conor Oberst remains one of the most intriguing singer-songwriters around. His choice to focus on his new country-folk LP Cassadaga at the expense of his more cerebral old material alienated his more established fans, but there’s no faulting the show itself; a ten-piece orchestra recreated the fullness of the album flawlessly and the famously temperamental Oberst generally kept his cool. Nice suits too.

41. THE DECEMBERISTS
Literate sea-shanties and baroque folk may not sound like the most obvious material for a sell-out show at the Royal Festival Hall but then again, Portland natives The Decemberists are not your average band. Accordions and acoustic guitars hitched to poetic, often esoteric lyrics are the order of the day, and although they’re not the most consistent of bands, the likes of the truly beautiful Crane Wife, based on a Japanese folk tale have deservedly made them one of America’s biggest cult acts. The geeky, bespectacled Colin Meloy’s a great believer in crowd participation, and his recreation of the American Civil War (with dinosaurs) was fantastically inspired, but his habit of forcing the theatrics can grow tiresome and can sometimes even detract from the music itself. Nonetheless, it’s great to see a band as idiosyncratic as the Decemberists doing so well for themselves, and if you’re willing to overlook their excesses, they’re worth checking out.



40. ST. VINCENT
Ms. Annie Clark is a very talented lady. A former singer with the Polyphonic Spree and erstwhile member of Sufjan Steven’s backing band, she’s finally hit out on her own with one of the most striking debut albums of the year. And although recreating the richness and eclecticism of “Marry Me” with only a guitar and a loop-pedal is impossible, her creativity and musical mastery ensures the stripped-down reinventions of her songs succeed more often than not.

39. YANN TIERSEN
Inexorably attracting the entire French population of Greater London into the exceedingly cramped Scala, acclaimed composer Yann Tiersen ditches his trademark accordion for an electric guitar and a rock ‘n roll sensibility. And the occasional cheesy ballad aside, it’s a move that works surprisingly well, proving there’s more to the immensely talented Frenchman than the “berets-and-baguettes” waltzes of the Amelie soundtrack (amusingly rendered here as fuzzy, doom-laden slab of post-rock.) Still, it’s not quite the same without the violins and squeezebox, and despite their occasional appearance throughout the set, a few more of the classics would have been welcome.

38. MISTY’S BIG ADVENTURE
A band designed for support slots (in the best possible way), what Misty’s Big Adventure lack in substance they make up with sheer funnery. Grandmaster Gareth’s lyrical ability won’t ever put Dylan to shame, but their effervescent, ska-tinged nursery rhyme pop is guaranteed to make you smile. Or cry with fear, if band mascot/nightmare-inducing apparition Erotic Volvo has anything to do with it.

37. THE NEW PORNOGRAPHERS
A.C Newman’s “supergroup” are ardent subscribers to the “no-frills” school of live performances, and their solid, if unimaginative run through their catalogue of superior power-pop guarantees a good ol’ sing-along if little else. What’s lacking in their performance is balanced with the quality of the songs and the enthusiasm of the audience and although entirely devoid of surprises, the atmosphere during the likes of The Bleeding Hearts Show more than made up for its conservatism. If you don’t raise your expectations too high, they can be a lot of fun- just don’t go expecting them to change your life.

36. ANDREW BIRD
Proof that sometimes less is more, Andrew Bird’s dazzling instrumental skills and irrepressible ambition leads to a live show that’s at turns both brilliant and frustrating. A virtuoso on violin, a dab hand on piano and a peerless whistler to boot, there’s no doubting he’s a man of exceptional talent; unfortunately, his unbalanced setlists, tendency to stretch songs to breaking point and love of unnecessary sound manipulation make him come across as a bit self-indulgent. Then again, songs like Plasticities and Why? manage to combine a variety of instruments and multiple loops with remarkable effect, perhaps because they rely more on his prodigious skill than electronic faffery. If he could rein in his more exasperating tendencies, he’d be truly astonishing; as it is, he’s merely impressive.

35. HOLY FUCK
The surprise hit of Glasto, the naughtily-named Holy Fuck struck me as a kind of Battles-lite; lacking the technical razzle-dazzle of those math-rock gods, but making up for it with much more warmth and accessibility. Their low-fi electro-rock romps underpinned with budget Casio keyboards combine the talents of two head-to-head electrical wizards, each armed with a table full of knobs, pedals and miscellaneous technical frippery with live guitars and drums, giving them far more presence than your average electronic artist, and with spectacular songs like Lovely Allen under their belt, they’re no musical slouches either.

34. AMIINA
Better known as Sigur Ros’ all-female string section, Amiina’s twinkly pixie music deserves far more recognition in its own right. The Icelandic four-piece were a perfect fit for the ornate intimacy of Bush Hall; their mixture of violins, glockenspiels, mandolins, melodic bells, musical saws and wine glasses producing the same uniquely Scandinavian ambience as their parent band, albeit with a more parochial, child-like tilt. A couple of songs were too understated for their own good, but the subtle delights of Rugla and Seoul provided a welcome change from the sledge-hammer of volume I normally favour. Also, I think I’m in love with Hildur, but that’s by-the-by…

33. EFTERKLANG
Danish band Efterklang sound a bit like Amiina covering the works of Joe Hisashi with Holy Fuck on drumming duties, with results as odd as that sounds. Their organic, lo-fi post-rock is a peculiar beast; esoteric yet warm, underpinned by irregular time-signatures and Soviet-choir vocals but also a sense of easy-going fun. They’re not the most accessible band in the world by any means, but silly costumes, sillier facial hair and communal singalongs made this far more lighthearted and cheerful than one would possibly expect.

32. BUILT TO SPILL
They’re kinda old, kinda static and have a penchant for appending songs with six-minute guitar solos, but don’t let that put you off. Built To Spill’s eye for melody and tremendous instrumental proficiency is more than impressive enough to cover for their uninspiring on-stage persona, and even technical hiccups galore couldn’t dampen the surprise hit of May’s “Week Of Gigs.” Conventional Wisdom in particular was fucking ace.

31. STARS
I must admit, Stars really surprised me with their show at the Scala in October. The most overtly “pop” band of the Arts and Crafts collective don’t exactly burst from the seams with originality, but their endearingly earnest songwriting, lush instrumentation and all-round cheeriness is a formula that works exceedingly well. Emily Milian rocked out on the guitar and flute, whilst the aforementioned Torquil (surely that’s not a real name) Campbell bounded round the stage singing his heart out. The rollocking, proggy Set Yourself On Fire, the delectable power-pop of Ageless Beauty and the brash, multi-layered sonic intensity of Soft Revolution all sparkled, the band seemed to really enjoy themselves and from the reaction of those around me, it looked like the audience did too.



30. FINAL FANTASY
Despite the ever-increasing circle of pretenders, Owen “Final Fantasy Pallett” remains the finest proponent of the loop-pedal around. The violinist extraordinaire and part-time Arcade Fire member previewed some promising material from upcoming album “Heartland” during his set at the Latitude Festival and dazzled the packed-out audience with his musical prowess. Even when he slipped up, he recovered with good grace and although the archness of his vocals can be off-putting, his melodic talents put his competitors to shame.

29. LES SAVY FAV
Tim Harrington tweaked my nose. And my friend Alex’s. He also scaled up the Scala’s balcony via the speaker stack, and dangled backwards so precariously that the audience as one held their breath waiting for the inevitable crunch of breaking bone. Oh, and there was the full-scale stage invasion at the end, let’s not forget that. Basically, this wasn’t your run-of-the-mill gig and if I’d been more a fan of LSF’s output this would have been one of the shows of the year. Still, despite not getting the fuss about their musical credentials (all their songs sounded exactly the same to me), for sheer entertainment value this was second to none.

28. COLD WAR KIDS
Would have been higher if not for a dreary showing at Latitude, but Cold War Kids were easily one of the top five acts at this years Glasto; Nathan Willett’s curious hybrid of vaudeville pianos, funk basslines and breathless, bluesy howling elevating them far above the myriad identikit indie types that hogged the Other Stage. Album highlight We Used To Vacation, with its incisive, intelligent lyrics was performed with élan, but it was Hang Me Up To Dry, coinciding with the first glimpse of sunlight all weekend, that cemented their reputation as a formidable live act.

27. !!!
Music’s most unpronounceable act since The Artist Formally Known As Prince gave up the squiggle, Canadian dance-punkers !!! have garnered a much-deserved reputation as a live band. The irrepressible Nic Offer’s endearing awful method of “dancing” puts to mind a slightly more cogent Bez, the hip-hop stylings of Shannon Funchness added variety to the mix and if they sometimes seemed a bit lost on the Koko’s stage, the up-for-it vibe from the audience boosted their confidence. Energy levels cranked up a notch or three with “Me and Giuliani In The Schoolyard,” and if they occasionally came across as a second-rate LCD Soundsystem, the majority was impressive enough to make up for their stupid name.

26. PARTS AND LABOR
Completely unknown to me before their support slot for Battles, Parts and Labor came across as 65daysofstatic with the melodic nous of Ratatat. Needless to say, they were bloody good. And my God, they weren’t half loud either. Set closer Fractured Skies was as good a four minutes of fuzzy, dense post-rock genius as I’ve ever heard, performed with a brain-melting intensity that’d make Battles proud.

25. FROG EYES
One of the more idiosyncratic offshoots of the circle of brilliant Canadian musicians that spawned the likes of Wolf Parade, Handsome Furs and Sunset Rubdown, Frog Eyes’ first London show since 2003 could have been one of the shows of the year, if not for its distinct lack of Spencer Krug-osity. Attempting to recreate the power of their album’s swirling psychedelia without the keyboards so integral to their sound was always going to be a gruelling task, and some of their songs (Idle Songs, Bushels) are diminished despite the band’s best efforts. But overall, the new arrangements worked well and new song Paul’s Tomb employed Carey Mercer’s frenzied, impassioned wailing (a castrato Bowie being attacked by a swarm of hornets) and tremendous vocal control to quite astonishing effect- if the recorded version is even half as good as this, I can honestly see it topping Bushels. And that’s quite something.

24. RILO KILEY
New album “Under The Blacklight” may have suffered more than its fair share of hipster disdain, but Rilo Kiley’s shift from alt-country to sultry disco is a perfect fit for their live show. Dispatching their biggest hit Portions for Foxes so early in their set may have been suicidal for less proficient acts, but former child star Jenny Lewis delivers their new (sometimes rather cheesy) material with charm and professionalism, aided by one of the most perfectly balanced sound mixes I’ve heard at a gig. Even the oft-overshadowed Blake Sennett had his moment in the sun, making the plaintive mandolin strum of Ripchord his own. On the evidence here, they’ve improved leaps and bounds since 2005, and it’ll be interesting to see where they’ll go from here.

23. MENOMENA
The Portland three-piece sound a bit like Mercury Rev, a bit like the Earlies but mostly they sound like themselves. Their marvellous “Friends and Foes” album has been one of my most listened-to discs of the year, and though their live show is a very different beast it still displays their unusual degree of imagination and inventiveness. From the swooning melodies of Rotten Hell to the discordant, jagged The Pelican, they produce a much larger sound than their three members would suggest, and even though the lashings of baritone sax, keyboards, guitars and pedals don’t produce as rich a sound as their recorded efforts, they succeed with much more flair than most acts in their position.

22. MUSE
Subtle: no. Awesome: damn straight. Matt Bellamy was out to rock the foundations of Wembley Stadium right from the outset, and the triple-whammy of Knights of Cydonia, Hysteria and Supermassive Black Hole set a pace that barely let up over the show’s two hour duration. Treating the 70,000-strong audience to a 23-song behemoth of a setlist, Muse raided their back-catalogue for all it was worth and not even the band’s chronic lack of personality could dampen the enthusiasm of the crowd. Plug In Baby was as monumental as you’d expect, as was most of the Origin of Symmetry material but it was the pyrotechnics that really took your breath away- flames bursting from the front of the stage; cartwheeling, confetti-dispensing ballerinas floating about on hot air balloons and a breathtaking array of mobile phone lights illuminating the stadium like a galaxy of stars. So what if it was all a bit soulless; it’s not often you get to see a show of such scale and ambition. Spectacular in every sense of the word.

21. PATRICK WOLF
The man with the best wardrobe in indie, Patrick Wolf has continually impressed over the last year. He made the best of a difficult job supporting Arcade Fire at Brixton; his Latitude slot was one of the top three sets of that festival and his Christmas show was a stylishly flamboyant end to this superb year of gigs. Niftily balancing the brooding, dramatic balladry of old and the camp, literate pop he moved towards in his most recent effort, he’s become a showman worthy of his musical abilities, imbued with a confidence that was previously lacking. As long as he doesn’t let his fragile temperament get to him, I can just see him getting better and better- let’s hope he doesn’t screw it up.



20. MARTHA WAINWRIGHT
Hailing from one of the most talented families in music, Martha Wainwright has stepped out of the shadow of her flamboyant, eccentric brother Rufus to prove herself as an exceptional musician in her own right. Her voice may not have the character of say, Regina Spektor’s, but its down-to-earth sincerity combined with her folky, vivacious demeanour is just as enchanting, and coupled with songs as emotional as Bloody Motherfucking Asshole she’s more honest, and ultimately more satisfying than her more famous sibling. Nice, if entirely unnecessary, guest spot from Pete Townsend too.

19. OF MONTREAL
Hiding desperately dark lyrics about depression and drug abuse under chirpy synth-disco melodies, the fey, awkward Kevin Barnes wouldn’t strike you as a natural showman. But clad in tight PVC hotpants, and a whores-worth of makeup, the Of Montreal frontman camps it up to high heaven for a show that one part gig, one part panto. A lack of live drums hurts a couple of songs, but She’s A Rejector, The Party’s Crashing Us and the 12 minute prog-monster that’s The Past Is A Grotesque Animal all shine in a show that combined music and theatrics with equal aplomb.

18. TWO GALLANTS
Making the White Stripes look like Renee and Renato, the Delta Blues duo are one of the most exhilarating live experiences around. Adam Stephen’s croaked, visceral howl is fuelled by a furious, wild-eyed passion but the star of the show’s inarguably the uber-awesome Tyson Vogel. As a Guardian journalist so aptly put it, “he doesn’t so much play the drums as explode in their general direction;” a wild, flailing dervish of drumsticks and energy whose rhythmic talent is second to none. The new songs are too derivative of their older songs to make a mark, but classics like Steady Rollin’ and Las Cruces Jail never fail to blow me away.

17. REGINA SPEKTOR
Perhaps she lacks the quirky spark of old, but the Russian-American songstress is still a one-of-a-kind performer. Cutting a more professional, less eccentric figure than before, her piano-led anti-folk, full of wry observations mixing the mundane and fantastical remain as charming as ever, and are a perfect fit for the modernist grandeur of the revamped Royal Festival Hall. Her vocals, as always, are the centrepiece of the show, her broad New York twang belieing the crystal clarity and remarkable versatility of her voice and even an all-too-familiar set list couldn’t diminish her brilliance.

16. BEIRUT
Zach Condon’s love affair with Europe continues unabated, with his new album “The Flying Cup Club” moving on from the Balkan influences of his debut to a distinctly Gallic vibe. His live show has consequently evolved, with the brass-heavy balladry of old giving way to a greater emphasis on accordion and violin. What hasn’t changed is Condon’s marvellous baritone croon, nor the proficiency of his ever-growing entourage of backing musicians. The Sufjan-in-Arabia bounce of In The Mausoleum and accordion-infused Nantes are welcome new additions to the Beirut repertoire, although none of the new songs quite match the stupendous Siki Siki Baba or Elephant Gun.

15. FEIST
Yeah, yeah- 1234 has been played to death but a predilection to commercialism doesn’t make Leslie Feist any less superb a performer.
The most charismatic songstress I’ve seen this year, I wasn’t expecting all that much from her beforehand, but her smoky, soulful vocals, easy-going banter and outstanding backing band made her shows a treat from start to finish. The Nina Simone-inspired gospel spiritual Sealion stood out as the highpoint, but she breathes new life into even the weakest of her songs, and the elaborate marriage proposal she engineered for an audience member suggests she’s a lovely person to boot.

14. THE EARLIES
Still Britain’s most underrated live band. The half-Texan, half-Mancunian outfit merge squelchy prog-rock and blissful psychedelia with fantastic results, and
their 10-member entourage wielding an orchestra’s-worth of instrumentation mean their live shows never fail to deliver a sumptuous feast for the ears.
It’d be great to see them to play more from their fantastic debut (the slow-burning but heavenly One Of Us Was Dead was one of the most gorgeous listening experiences of the year) but they still have more character and complexity to their music than any NME cover non-entity you’d care to name.

13. LCD SOUNDSYSTEM
Less a dance party than a localised battlefield, LCD Soundsystem’s Brixton gig was not for the faint-hearted. The cowbell-tastic Us Vs Them had the crowd going crazy from the get-go, and by the time we’d reached North American Scum it was total, every-man-for-himself mayhem. But hey, to expect any less of a reaction to James Murphy’s critically-acclaimed punk-funksters would have been foolish indeed. The man himself is an unlikely indie hero; a slightly podgy, genial 38-year old who ambles good-naturedly round the stage directing the action, but with the music and atmosphere so frantic, you barely had time to acknowledge his presence as you were swept along in the latest surge of bodies. Didn’t stop it from being completely brilliant though, even though it took days for my legs to recover…

12. THE POLYPHONIC SPREE
One of the first bands I ever saw, Tim DeLaughter’s 20-strong multi-instrumental cult return with a darker-tinged, but no less rapturous live show. Bedecked in cod-military uniform rather than the robes of old, their choral paeans to love, happiness and general hippy-ish claptrap still have the power to inspire joy in even the hardest of hearts, despite the curiously flat sound mix. I’d forgotten quite how great their debut was, and although the formula wore thin over two hours it was overall a pretty damn enjoyable performance. Nice touch to include a bit of Tripping Daisy in there too, even if no-one else really appreciated it.

11. GOGOL BORDELLO
Who doesn’t love the Gypsy Punk?! I’ve waxed lyrical about Eugene Hutz’s gypsy-punk mentalists time and time again, but I can’t iterate enough about how great a live proposition they are. New album Super Taranta is the most solid LP they’ve released, and the likes of “Supertheory of Supereverything” and the outstanding “American Wedding” sit well amongst old favourites like Mishto and Start Wearing Peopl. Hutz himself is a whirlwind of moustachioed charisma; an eccentric, reckless anarchist with no room for rules or authority. But one can’t help but feel that they’re increasingly being forced to compromise between their anarchic punk roots and the venues needed to accommodate their ever-increasing fanbase; the Hammersmith Apollo curtailed the stage invasions, crowd-surfing and even the drum-riding finale that are par-for-the-course at smaller Gogol gigs, and it all seemed less genuine as a result. Still, any band that can get the whole Apollo moshing from front to back (including the balcony) is obviously doing something right, and there’s no denying Hutz has got the most awesome ‘tache in the business.



10. MÙM
Proving that innovation and childish glee aren’t mutually exclusive, Icelanders Mùm pulled off the surprise coup of the year and gained a well-deserved, if entirely unexpected place in this Top 10. Complaints that departures from the band had left them reliant on backing tapes were addressed with a 20-member(!) retinue that gave their lovely electronic soundscapes and quirky glitchy pop a complexity and richness far beyond anything their recorded output would suggest, typified by the breathtakingly lush “Marmalade Fires.” Enchanting, captivating and decidedly unserious, the most downright lovely show of ’07.



9. THE HOLD STEADY
Who would have thought watching five middle aged men living out their dreams of being Springsteen could be so much fun? Their keyboard-heavy bar blues don’t exactly ooze originality and frontman Craig Finn is as far away from being “cool” as humanely possible, but that’s all part of their charm; their boundless enthusiasm and instant melodies, full of catchy hooks and singalong phrases make them the perfect party band. Props to the wine bottle twirling, beret-clad, twirly-moustachioed keyboardist who’s evidently the real star of the show; there really aren’t enough people who look like pantomime villains in modern music.



8. OKKERVIL RIVER
I’d never really got Texan folk-rockers Okkervil River. I’d admired their songwriting and liked their melodies but there was something about their records that’s never quite sat with me. But as a live band…well, they’re something else. True, Will Sheff’s singing does have a fairly loose relationship to the melodies at hand, but for passion, style and overall consistency they impressed me as much as any act this year. Gifted with a flair for the dramatic, and a wide range of instruments, they finally gave their excellent melodies the arrangements and energy they deserved, and Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe seguing into For Real was pure brilliance in musical form. Still don’t like their albums, but what ya gonna do?



7. O’ DEATH
The best support act of 2007, O’ Death were a breath of fresh air in a slot too often taken by over-earnest acoustic troubadours or ten-a-penny Libertines wannabees. A riotous, yee-hawing explosion of gothic bluegrass, they had the unrestrained, manic energy of Funeral-era Arcade Fire, the instrumental skill of Hayseed Dixie, and actually impressed me more than the (none-too-shabby) headliners. And that was nothing compared to their absolutely phenomenal headline show at the Kilburn Luminaire. Delivering more verve and intensity in one song as many bands manage in an entire career (the venue’s manager wrote it was the best show they’d ever put on there) the rollocking Only Daughter Of Mine reached such breakneck speeds the violinist looked like he was going to explode and not even a dreadfully corporate audience could ruin a never-less-than-scintillating performance.



6. BATTLES
John Stanier is a man’s man. A relentless, mechanical ubermensch, he’s drenched in sweat by the second song and by the middle of the set he looks like he’s going to faint. But nothing’s going to stop him hammering his kit and absurdly high cymbal with such force that you can see the sawdust flying off his drumstick, or hinder his inhuman accuracy even when dealing with the most complex time signatures. Watching him drum is worth the price of admission alone, but the rest of the band unbelievably share the same level of technical proficiency; Tyondai Braxton playing guitar and keyboard simultaneously when not beatboxing or providing vocodered chipmunk vocals, Ian Williams adding angular guitar and keys and Dave Konopka messing about with the electronics when he’s not interlocking time signatures with frighteningly clockwork precision with Stanier. Yes, they succumb to pretentiousness from time to time, but after hearing the staggeringly, tremendously sublime Atlas (one of the top 10 live songs I’ve ever heard) I’m willing to forgive them anything. The most exciting discovery of the year.



5. THE NATIONAL
Eschewing special effects and razzmatazz for good, old-fashioned musicianship, The National have taken me aback time and time again with just how damn good they are. There’s an intensity about their shows that’s hard to fake; the awkward, gangly Matt Berninger’s uneasiness with being under the spotlight manifesting itself as total absorption in his performance, his rich, whisky-soaked baritone often cracking with barely-contained emotion. The anthemic Mr. November and Abel are obvious highpoints (Matt leaning over the barrier in front of me during the Astoria gig was particularly memorable) and Padme Newsome’s flamboyant violin during Fake Empire deserves a mention, but The National are often best at their most understated. That fact alone may limit their appeal- they don’t provide a spectacle, they’re not ostentatious or even particularly charismatic, but they’re fucking good musicians. And that, sometimes, is enough.



4. BJORK
Bjork’s headlining set at Glastonbury’s Other Stage was truly a feast for the senses- a whole smorgasbord of special effects, lasers, an orchestra who seemingly looted the Polyphonic Spree’s “Together We’re Heavy”-era robes, heavy electronic beats and the unmistakable voice of the Icelandic pop-pixie herself. Despite a whole day of torrential rain, several inches of mud and severely aching legs, I couldn’t help but be entirely hypnotised; from the understated harpsichord-led arrangement of “Venus as a Boy” to a career-best performance of the brooding Bachelorette the pace never flagged, and the grinding glitchy techno of “Declare Independence” was a perfect closer to the most divine day of music I have, and possibly ever will witness.



3. I’M FROM BARCELONA
I’ve debated long and hard about where to place I’m From Barcelona on this list- I mean, they’re basically a novelty act, with all the depth and musical innovation of a rubber duck. But then again, I’ve never come out of a gig with uncontrollable giggles and the physical inability to remove the grin off my face for an hour after the show had ended, so I reckon they deserve this. Their songs are barely less simple than your average CBBC theme tune, but so insanely catchy than you can’t help but be swept along by their cheeriness, and the joyous anarchy, compered by the wonderfully moustachioed Emmanuel Lundgren, puts to mind a low-budget love child of the Flaming Lips and the Polyphonic Spree. 20+ members, vocals riffing on Wes Anderson films, home-made confetti, balloons galore, riding on audience member’s shoulders, all-out kazoo action and a stage invasion which had 150 people dancing with the band to a techno remix of their theme tune…it was less a gig than the BEST PARTY EVER.



2. JOANNA NEWSOM
If there’s one thing I’ve learnt, it’s the acts you anticipate the least that end up impressing you the most. I can count on one hand the number of acts that have honestly affected me on an emotional level, but within two songs Joanna Newsom’s extraordinary performance at the Royal Albert Hall had me fighting back the tears. Despite the lushness of Van Park Dykes’ orchestration on Ys, the ten-minute long compositions work even better in the stripped-down, band-based format employed here, with the focus shifted entirely on the self-depreciating Newsom and her mesmerising harp playing. That sandpaper voice, so scratchy and irritating on record has been tamed and groomed into something beautiful, songs like Emily and Sawdust and Diamonds were transformed into something otherworldly in the opulent surroundings of the venue and if not for a underwhelming, drawn-out encore, it might well have been the best show of the year.



1. ARCADE FIRE
There’s a reason why I’ve seen this band fourteen times this year, and it’s not just my compulsive need to piss away cash. As the band that ignited my love of live music, Arcade Fire will always have a special place in my heart, and although they’ve sometimes fallen short of their own spectacular standards they remain the benchmark to which all other bands are measured. At their best, there’s not a live act on Earth to touch them, and I’ve had the sincere pleasure of seeing them at the pinnacle of their talents. Their incredible rendition of Haiti at BBC’s Maida Vale Studio stands out as the most animated individual performance of 2007, only matched by Richard Reed Parry and Will Butler’s comically violent antics during Laika at Ally Pally. Although the Neon Bible tracks still pale in comparison to their Funeral brethren, My Body Is A Cage has become one of the centrepieces of their repertoire, the stage set-up and musical arrangement brilliantly foreboding and allowing Win Butler a chance to show off his vastly improved vocal talents. And Crown of Love at Brixton Academy was euphoric like no other song I’ve ever witnessed; the intensity and passion from both band and audience was as spiritual as I’ve ever felt. But if there’s one single moment that sums up their magic as a live experience, it was their spur-of-the-moment acoustic performance of “Wake Up” on the steps of St. John’s Church, Westminster; a once-in-a-lifetime experience that’s unlikely to be topped as the most incredible musical moment of my life.



And for completions sake, the 10 worst, or most disappointing acts of 2007….



10. BROKEN SOCIAL SCENE
Well, “Broken Social Scene” is a bit of a misnomer really; “Kevin Drew Rambling A Lot, Whilst Occasionally Playing Some Stuff Off His Solid New Solo Album” would be a lot more accurate, if a wee bit less snappy. Cut down from twelve-plus members to five, the new-and-not-so-improved stripped down incarnation of Montreal’s favourite hipster collective were actually pretty good when they bothered to play some actual music, but a fatal combination of nerves and alcohol meant far too much time was wasted with aimless, slightly excruciating banter. Adding insult to injury is the fact that at their Koko show the following month, Emily Haines joined them for “Anthems For A Seventeen Year Old Girl”- all we got was Major Label Debut (Fast) and a couple of lesser old-school tracks. For shame, Kevin, for shame!

9. BLONDE REDHEAD
Well, they sounded really good during sound-check…The central problem, and it really was a problem at a show as intimate as their showcase at FOPP, is that they’re ultimately not much more than a jumped-up karaoke band. Yeah, their music is great (“23” is one of the singles of the year) but replacing most of the keyboards with backing tapes left the set floundering for a focal point. Singer Kazu Makino has a striking voice, but her fairly static, reserved stage persona isn’t nearly enough to carry a show by itself, and her two bandmates simply don’t do enough to dispel the feeling that you might as well be listening to the CD’s instead.

8. CARIBOU
Well, whoop-di-doo, they’ve got two drummers. So did Modest Mouse, and that didn’t make them any good either. A lot of people have been bumming on this band, but after seeing them twice I remain resolutely unimpressed. They have their occasional interesting moments, and you can’t fault them for sheer volume. But where’s the melodies? Where’s the love? And where’s my fucking drink?

7. THE KILLERS
If you can’t even get people going to “Mr. Brightside,” you know you’re in trouble. To be fair to the Las Vegas mob, the peculiar volume limits at Worthy Farm didn’t help them at all, but that doesn’t excuse the sterile, workaday performance from a band who should, and could have owned the Pyramid Stage. They reclaimed something from a deeply uninspiring 90 minutes with a rousing “All The Things That I’ve Done” but I don’t half wish I’d gone and seen Iggy Pop instead.

6. CAT POWER
Whoever persuaded Chan Marshall to pass herself off as some sort of low-rent Lady Sovereign should be hunted down and shot. At her best, Marshall’s emotional fragility has produced the most affectingly beautiful performances I’ve ever heard; one has only to see her appearance on Jools Holland or her sparse, impossibly raw cover of Otis Redding’s “Remember Me” to fall desperately in love with her. But she’s notoriously unreliable too, and her appearance at the Kentish Town Forum certainly won’t go down as her finest hour. To be charitable, at least she didn’t throw in the towel ten minutes in (as she’s infamously done in the past) but the turgid pub-band funk of her awful backing band almost made me wish she had. Stripped of all subtlety, one suspects the rare moments of genuine emotion that did break through were by accident rather than design and even though it’s good to see her happy, it’s a shame it’s had to come at the expense of her talent.

5. THE KOOKS
Indie music for 16 year old public school poshos. There’s no doubting they can play their instruments (which automatically makes them better than the View) and they can even knock out the odd catchy tune, but there’s a million better bands out there.

4. MODEST MOUSE
What a tragedy. “Good News For People Who Like Bad News” is one of my most beloved albums ever, so I was expecting a truly top-notch show from one of America’s most acclaimed indie acts. What we actually got was a shrugworthy saunter through their back-catalogue which not even a decent setlist could save. The Royal Albert Hall was completely the wrong venue for them in any case, and the terribly fuzzy sound didn’t help matters. The clash of egos between Isaac Brock and Johnny Marr provided some unintentional entertainment; the former getting increasingly pissed off as the former Smiths guitarist stole the limelight with his rock-star stylings, but it meant that the band never really seemed to work as a cohesive whole. And although they hit the mark with Black Cadillacs and Dashboard, they ballsed-up “Float On,” which is unforgivable. Biggest disappointment of the year.

3. DIRTY PRETTY THINGS
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

2. CLARK/FOUR TET
Battles at the Scala may have been the most downright impressive set of the year, but first I had to endure two mind-numbing hours of this dreary bollocks. Clark was a one-man experimental electronic artist, which was exactly as exciting as that sounds, but he was an exercise in uninhibited joyousness compared to Four Tet’s interminable “DJ Set,” which involved the desperately overrated folktronicist inflicting a barrage of droning noise whilst picking his noise nonchalantly in the corner. As much fun as contracting a minorly disfiguring skin disease.

1. THE VIEW
As talentless a bunch of wasters as I’ve ever bared witness too, the posturing, unlikeable Dundee lads pulled off the near-impossible and made their mediocre, by-the-numbers indie even less appealing than on record. Their attempts to get the audience to clap along were hindered by their complete inability to play in time, and their lack of anything approaching a decent tune was frankly depressing. With Make Model, Broken Records and Glasvegas making waves at the moment, it’s not like Scotland’s short of musical talent; there’s really no excuse for this sort of shod.

Right, that’s it. I’m done, finished, finito. Sigh a breath of relief, and grab yourself a biscuit or something. You deserve it.