Sunday, July 27, 2008

RATATAT (London Cargo, 23/07/08)

By far the best part of CSS’ never-ending tour last year, the New York electro-dance duo (famed for their fantastic remix of The Knife’s “We Share Our Mother’s Health”) unleash their crisp, crunchy beats, wailsome guitar and freaky projections in Shoreditch hipster haven The Cargo, with surprisingly awesome results. Although their material does stick rigidly to a formula, it’s delivered with such aplomb that niggles about variety are moot- unlike many acts of their genre, there’s quite a lot of live input (guitars, bongos, snare) along with the backing tracks making it much more than just a live replaying of their albums. But the thing I enjoyed most (apart from the sublime “Wildcat”) was seeing such dance-related anarchy in the Cargo- I’ve oft complained about the total lack of atmosphere at that venue, but that audience more than made up for previous failings in that regard. Their hour long set just flew by, and unlike many shows I could have happily watched them for many hours more- although I love my more cerebral bands, it’s nice to have a proper dance once in a while.

(Photo: Durrr (Flickr))
LATITUDE FESTIVAL (Henham Park, Southwold, 18/07/08-20/07/08)

“More Than A Musical Festival.” Well, Suffolk’s premier festival likes to brand itself as such, and to its credit it’s true- the literary and comedic talent on offer is easily the equal of the bands on offer, and despite the focus of this review I did get the opportunity to sample some of its more unusual delights. But ultimately I was there for the music, and on this count Latitude (for the most part) didn’t disappoint.

First on were local heroes The Godwits, who failed to do Suffolk proud with their wet and uninspired indie balladry- much more impressive were London three piece The Joy Formidable, whose angular rock is backed up with an arresting energy that may secure them some mainstream success. Rosie and The Goldbug didn’t bode well with their self-consciously quirky, irritating electro pop but a talent for working a crowd really served them well and they managed to have half the audience dancing by the end.

But the day belonged to hotly-tipped Edinburghers Broken Records, who commanded the beautiful Sunrise Arena with a performance that surely made a fan of all who witnessed it. Previously hamstrung by a nervy, static stage presence, a punishing touring schedule has seen them finally gain the confidence to give their excellent Arcade-Fire-meets-Beirut material the edge to make them an unmissable live proposition, and rollocking closer A Good Reason stands out as one of the musical highlights of the whole weekend. Slow Club weren't quite on the same level, but nonetheless put on a delightful set, their lovely boy-girl harmonies married to whimsical but refreshingly unpretentious lyrics. It’s a shame Bearsuit didn’t take notes- Slow Club’s simple charms were much more fun than the messy, overegged pudding of the Norwich eccentrics (nice costumes though.)

Liverpudlian mentalists a.P.A.t.T were typically great, barnstorming through every genre conceivable like Akron/Family on crack, and even though they attracted one of the smaller audiences of the festival I saw few people without big grins on their faces, which is more than I can say for the oddly disappointing British Sea Power. The wonderfully triumphant All In It was neutered by an inexplicable lack of volume, and not even the inspired contributions of an Bulgarian woman’s choir could save a set that was too quiet for its own good. The Go Team were a lot of fun thanks to Ninja’s irrepressible energy and an up-for-it crowd, and even though the instruments are still too low in the mix (a flaw they haven’t rectified since I first saw them three and a half years ago) they were actually one of the most enjoyable acts of the day. Death Cab For Cutie’s phoned-in set was lacklustre, with the exception of the slow-burning, lighter-waving climax of Transatlanticism and Franz Ferdinand were exactly how you’d expect- great singalongs (I’d forgotten just how great their debut was), passable showmanship with a sprinkling of promising, synth-driven new songs. A perfectly enjoyable way to wind up this most eclectic of days.

Saturday didn’t start well. The unusual falsetto-heavy grooves of Wild Beasts captured my imagination, but otherwise I was treated to a parade of pleasant but uninspiring fare- tame indie poppers Fanfarlo, up-and-coming songstress Beth Rowley and venerable Belgians dEUS. Thankfully, this state of affairs was to prove short-lived, with a triumvirate of pure brilliance that was to blow me away. First off, American bluesman Seasick Steve- although he may not be quite the just-off-the-streets hobo he portrays himself to be (nowadays he’s actually a Norway-based record producer), he’s one hell of a charmer. An impeccably charismatic performer, he’s got the musical chops to back up his fantastic story-telling- whether playing a banjo, a three-stringed guitar or a plank of wood (!) he never less than impresses. Guest appearances from Eli ‘Paperboy’ Reed and the impromptu dragging up of a pretty young lady to serenade were memorable, but it never distracted from the basic premise of an old country fella singin’ the blues and was all the better for it. Definitely my most unexpected treat of the weekend.

Guy Garvey may have been a less accomplished raconteur than Steve, but he still delivered the goods as frontman of superior British indie-merchants Elbow. They’ve long skirted the edge of mainstream acceptance, but it’s only now that they seem to have finally crossed over- and deservedly so. For although they vaguely occupy the same genre space as dullards like Coldplay, their songwriting elevates them far above their peers. A deft hand in instrumentation is another point in their favour, giving them more substance than your average guitar balladeers and a phalanx of hardcore fanboys at the front enhance the atmosphere of an already very impressive set. But not even they could hold a candle to the utterly phenomenal Sigur Ros. Even as a dedicated fan, I had serious doubts they’d be able to recreate their otherworldly magic in a setting as vast as Latitude’s main stage but dear God did they prove me wrong. Without wanting to sound like a hyperbolic fanboy, it was the best festival set I’ve seen in my life and one of my top three performances I’ve seen full stop; perhaps it was the starlight, perhaps it was being surrounded by fellow fans but it was a majestic, magical performance from start to finish. For the first time, Hoppipolla was as dazzling as it’s always threatened to be and their ineffectual attempts at getting the audience to sing along to Med Blodnasir showed that the glacial demeanour of old is starting to melt, and as for the twenty metric tonnes of confetti they unleashed during Gobbledigook…well, that’s a moment I’m going to savour for a very long time.

And although Sunday was always going to struggle to live up to what I’d experience the previous night, the first show of the day almost gave Sigur Ros a run for their money. Delivering a special midday set before her evening performance at London’s Somerset House, the mesmerising Joanna Newsom enchanted all that witnessed her. Comfortable enough to try out a few new piano-based numbers (which, for the record, all sounded pretty excellent) she shone most when sticking to her trademark harp- Emily was tear-inducingly sublime, Peach Plum Pear and Bridges and Balloons breathtaking in their intricate prettiness. Even when she completely forgot the words to Sawdust and Diamonds the crowd forgave her- her infectious, unassuming charm made even her mistakes endearing. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant.

The rest of the festival inevitably seemed a bit anticlimatic in comparison. Patrick Watson’s shambles of a set was upsetting, Glasvegas sounded great if a bit samey, Those Dancing Days were moderately entertaining and provided much late night fodder for the middle-aged male photographer crowd. Flavour of the month Noah and the Whale underwhelmed me with their forgettable whimsy; Okkervil River suffered from sound problems galore but managed to win the audience thanks to Will Sheff’s admirably concerted efforts to win over the crowd. Blondie, if truth be told weren’t very good by any objective standards- the embarrassing gyrating of an OAP purporting to be erstwhile sex object Debbie Harry plus plodding renditions of old hits can’t really be construed as the epitome of live music- but there’s just no resisting the singalong potential of classic songs like One Way Or Another and Atomic. I’m embarrassed to say it, but they were actually much more fun than festival closers Interpol whose snappy dressing and cool NY style is counteracted by the fact they only have one song, which they proceeded to play seventeen times in succession. They were actually so dull that I sought solace in the Uncut tent where Tindersticks proved a far more worthwhile experience, their understated, lushly orchestrated ballads actually distinguishable from one another. But neither band had the ‘oomph’ a final-night headliner should have; certainly, neither was in the same league as last year’s brilliant Arcade Fire set.

But all things said and done, I had a fantastic time. The atmosphere was lovely (if a bit genteel), the intimate scale of the festival makes it less stressful than the likes of Glasto, it’s bursting from the seams with hidden treats for those willing to look (a 3am piano rendition of Don’t Stop Me Now in the middle of the woods with a hundred folk singing along was pretty much the best thing ever.) The musical quality was less consistent than 2007, but it had more genuine highlights- Sigur Ros and Joanna Newsom were much better than anything last year. If there’s one major criticism, it’s that the line-up is a bit too indie-centric for its own good- some more left-field choices could spice things up a bit. Apart from that, can’t find much to fault- same time next year, I suppose!

(Photos: John Gleeson)
MICAH P. HINSON (London Bush Hall, 16/07/08)

A Texan country-folk singer associated with the fantastic Earlies, ex-jailbird Micah P. Hinson has lead a pretty colourful life; unfortunately that’s not always apparent in his rather pedestrian music. It’s difficult to get infused about the content of his par-for-the-course songwriting, although there are a couple of gems there- what’s far more praiseworthy is the intensity of his performance. Hinson wails, screams, bellows like a man possessed, filled with rockabilly fervour and his superb backing band only accentuate his energy; a duelling banjos interlude is genuinely astonishing. The venue is warmer than Satan’s crotch, but the effort he puts into his show is laudable and the audience spare no pains in showing their appreciation. It’s just a shame the songs themselves aren’t that much cop…

(Photo: Andy_Sheppard (Flickr))
PARTS AND LABOR (London Corsica Studios, 14/07/08)

After astounding me with their explosive support set for Battles last year, I’ve been really looking forward to seeing these exciting and ever-so-loud New Yorkers again. And in the tiny, unassuming Corsica Studios, hidden in the depths of Elephant and Castle, they whipped up a frenzy of percussive sound and melodious hooks to stun even the most hardened gig-addict into submission. Dodgy sound slightly scuppers epic opener Fractured Skies, one of my favourite songs of 2007, but from then on it’s 45 minutes of unstinting excellence- drummer Joe Wong is a revelation, a geeky looking fellow who attacks his kit like a fucking demon and new addition Sarah Lipstate adds both awesome guitar lines and eye candy. Their ace in the hole though is their ability to cross Battles-style technical brilliance with direct but catchy melodies; an eye for succinctness works in their favour too. Why this band doesn’t get more love is a mystery to me- personally, I reckon they’ve got the potential to be one of the most exciting bands around. Kudos also due to supports Screaming Tea Party, whose hyperactive Nipponese noisemongery sound was pitched exactly between Melt-Banana and the Polysics and was thus naturally pretty awesome.

(Photo: S.E.T.H. (Flickr))
THE HOLD STEADY (London HMV Oxford Street, 14/07/08)

A fun, forty minute instore street from the best purveyors of literate bar-room blues since Springsteen, although it's obvious that two years of solid touring have taken their toil on Craig Finn and co. Drawing exclusively from material from brand new album Stay Positive, I can't say they've changed much from previous albums- if you didn't like the energetic odes to drunken nights out that comprised their prior output, you sure won't like this. A couple of duff tracks aside, the new LP sounds great with some guitar work that stands out amongst their best.

(Photo: John Gleeson)
THE MAGNETIC FIELDS (London Cadogan Hall, 09/07/08)

It’s been four years since Stephen Merritt and his sardonic wit have graced our shores, but this extended absence sure ain’t cheered him up much. I’ve never seen Merritt before, who I’d always envisaged to be a foppish haunted type (a gothier Neil Hannon, perhaps), so to discover he was a stumpy, unassuming Big Apple Taxi Driver lookalike was a bit of a shock to the system. What wasn’t a shock, however, was just how damn good he was.

Due to a hearing affliction, Merritt’s unable to tolerate loud noises so faithful recreations from his fuzz drenched last album “Distortion” were out of the question (he can’t abide applause for the same reason, leading to the bizarre spectacle of a thousand people clicking their fingers in appreciation). Instead, he renders his material in a more low-key, acoustic fashion with the unusual combination of bouzouki, cello, acoustic guitar and piano which thanks to the talents of his touring band only enhance the idiosyncratic charm of his often romantic, dry-humoured songs. A disastrous journey to London could have soured the tempestuous Merritt’s mood but he was on good form, and acted as the perfect foil to his chattermouth pianist Claudia. The swanky Sloane Square venue was an inspired choice; pleasant, well-sized and blessed with high-vaulted, minimalist environs that do wonders for the acoustics. A good selection of material too; not only did they raid ever corner of the Magnetic Fields’ extensive back catalogue, but they found room for a couple of diversions into their Lemony Snicket-related side project the Gothic Archies (series author Daniel Handler is a sometimes accordionist for the band). It is perhaps a shame that Merritt’s condition precluded a greater array of instrumentation as the subtle arrangements occasionally became over-familiar but that apart, it was a pleasure to have to the rare opportunity to see one of America’s most acclaimed indie legends in the flesh.

(Photo: Erika Dias (Flickr))
FRIGHTENED RABBIT (London Madame JoJo’s, 08/07/08)

Given the hype currently surrounding them, I was actually a little underwhelmed by Frightened Rabbit’s headline show at Madame JoJo’s. Like their fellow Scotsmen The Twilight Sad (who they share musical similarities with) I feel I should've like them more than I actually did- they're passionate, and loud, and have a good line in harmonies and a wry, understated wit but apart from a ferocious, extended "The Greys" they didn't really wow me. The unbalanced bass levels didn't help, but the main problem is that the songs all sounded pretty similar. Other people seemed to be enjoying it though, so it's probably just me being awkward.

Also against their favour is that the two support acts were much better: Collapsing Cities were SUPERB, a kind of mish-mash of Holy Fuck, Foals and Doves who I can see getting pretty big very soon; and Esau Mwamwaya ft. Radioclit's mix of dance, electronica and Afrobeat (the real deal, not the preppy Vampire Weekend kind) was enjoyably out of the ordinary- they did a fantastic remix of AiH's "Heart It Races" that's well worth checking out, and they had scantily-clad African dancers to boot. Fucking bargain for a fiver.

(Photo: Jacqui Sadler (Flickr))

Monday, July 07, 2008

O2 WIRELESS FESTIVAL (London Hyde Park, 04/07/08)

Corporate-branded festivals aren’t generally noted for the innovative, cutting edge bookings and with Hyde Park bursting from the seams with mediocre guitar bollockry it was pretty self-evident that Wireless wasn’t going to be bucking the trend. But amongst the dross there were some bonafide gems, especially fantastic US indie-rockers the National who delivered a triumphant, borderline sublime set to a rapt audience of thousands. Matt Berninger’s intense baritone is perfectly complemented by his masterful band, and their setlist managed to strike a perfect balance between the old and new, as well as the lively and more introspective. (Anyone lucky enough to get there early were also treated to a additional four-song mini-set on the tiny O2 stage, a fine little treat for a fanboy like myself.) Eccentric British four-piece Guillemots also impressed- having wisely ditched the free jazz freakouts that made their 2007 shows such a chore, they’ve reclaimed the vitality and infectious charisma of their pre-Windowpane days. True, they’ve still not quite found their way with the new material but the likes of Trains To Brazil and the monumental Sao Paulo are still as utterly joyous as ever. It’s a shame I can’t say the same about headliner Morrissey- despite a solid setlist (Vicar In A Tutu!) and an unusually chipper turn from Moz, his plodding backing band sacrificed any sense of subtlety or variation in tone for overwrought jam solos. But at least he was better than Dirty Pretty Things and the Wombats, who between them could perhaps constitute a competent band- the former can evidently play and have the odd catchy tune but lack anything approaching stage presence; the latter seem amicable enough but couldn’t pen a half-decent song to save their lives. Unfortunately, utterly shrugworthy acts like these (The Courteeners, Lightspeed Champion) were par for the course, with anything mildly interesting the exception rather than rule. It’s a shame, because the organisation and weather was top-drawer; a more varied and ambitious line-up could have made it unmissable. Despite scattered moments of brilliance, an overall disappointment.

(Photo: John Gleeson)
WHY? (London Madame JoJo’s, 29/06/08)

Why indeed? Well, because their third LP “Alopecia” is the best damned album that’s been released this year. My prior investigations into the mysterious and scary world of hip-hop have been limited at best, but there’s a reassuringly indie element to Yoni Wolf’s work, adding quirky Sufjan-esque instrumentation and crisp guitars to his literate, if occasionally fratboy-ish rhymes. And I’m glad to report that he’s more than capable of communicating his genre-bending versatility in a live setting too. I’d always (groundlessly) assumed that Why’s live performance would be heavily reliant on backing tracks, but in fact it’s 100% live- Yoni and his three homies skilfully translate their material with an impressive array of multi-instrumental showmanship. The tracks from Alopecia are universally great- whilst some songs remain similar to their album version (the ferocious staccato of The Hollows) the likes of Song of the Sad Assassins are afforded new arrangements that make better use of the talents on show. They also added some older songs into the mix which were just as strong- I’d not hard the chance to check their first two albums, but on the evidence here I’ll have to make it a priority. If there’s one minor criticism, it’s the brevity of the set (an hour, which went in a blink of an eye), but there’s no complaining about what we actually got. A supremely confident and impressive performance, and with two fine support sets courtesy of My Sad Captains and S.J Esau one of the best value-for-money shows of the year so far.

(Photo: A Flickr In The Life (Flickr))
RADIOHEAD (London Victoria Park, 25/06/08)

An admission- I’ve never been that big a fan of Thom Yorke and his purveyors of whiny miserabilia. The Bends is a fine British rock album, sure, and OK Computer will forever stand as one of the few stone-cold classics to emerge from that godforsaken era known as the 90’s, but the rest of their oeuvre I can take or leave. So it was a pleasant surprise that I enjoyed the second of their massive Victoria Park shows much more than expected.

That said, I’d like to dispel the assertions spouted by wild-eyed Ateasers that Radiohead are in any way “THE BEST LIVE BAND IN THE WORLD EVAR.” They’re not. They lack the charm and showmanship for one thing- they’re just not all that exciting to behold. On a less superficial note, they’re don’t really modify their songs from their recorded incarnations either, leading to a technically brilliant but surprisingly staid musical performance. But that apart, it was still an excellent night, despite a faltering and uninspired first act. The generous setlist (it had to be, for £45) was too weighted at the start towards In Rainbows material and it took until visceral rendering of Hail To The Thief’s Myxamitosis for the crowd to get going. Twinkly xylophone’d classic No Surprises naturally received a rapturous reception, but the show only truly came to life when the sun began to set and they began delving into the rich seams of the pre-Kid A era. The superb lighting, involving a hundred dangling neon tubes finally reached their full effectiveness in the encroaching darkness, and helped encourage the communal spirit that emerged when they started on the hits. Personally, My Iron Lung followed by the lighter-waving epic sing/warble/screech-along of Karma Police proved the pinnacle of the night’s proceedings but the closing double whammy of 2+2=5 and Paranoid Android came damn close. I may be risking the wrath of the hardcore here, but it was only during these “populist” moments when Radiohead lived up to the oppressive cult of hype that surrounds them; their more esoteric material may get the crowds going at more intimate, fan-centric shows but you need anthems for a show on this scale and ultimately, Radiohead just about delivered.

(Photo: Belly Of A Whale (Flickr))
SIGUR ROS (Westminster Methodist Hall, 24/06/08)

Unfairly maligned as coffee-table bland-merchants after the BBC commandeered their back catalogue to score every trailer on the network, there’s still tons of evidence to suggest Sigur Ros’ sweeping post-rock crescendos stand head and shoulders over their many imitators. Although even the most ardent of fans must admit they stick doggedly to a tried and tested formula, it’s a formula that undoubtedly works- as is proved beyond doubt tonight.

Westminster Methodist Hall provides an intimate, plush setting that works well in conjunction with the Icelanders’ often mellow soundscapes, and even though the set-up of the venue deprives them of their awe-inspiring visuals they’ve still got enough crowd-pleasing tricks up their sleeve to wow the audience. An unexpected burst of confetti during Meo Blodnasir and the emergence of a fully-dressed up brass band during Se Lest’s climax are particularly delightful, and add a lighthearted touch to a band so often (wrongly) typified as humourless bores.

The new songs from their just-released fifth album “Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust” generally live up to the high standards we’ve come to expect from them, but they’re a bit too derivative of previous work, with the marked exception of the gleeful Animal Collective-ish psych-folk of Gobbledigook which hints that a welcome diversification may be in store for future releases. In any event, the live version was delivered with obvious relish by their 14-strong musical retinue, who armed themselves with all variety of percussion and even induced the crowd to partake in some audience participation. But ultimately, it was the transcendental Olsen Olsen/Hafssol double-punch that truly elevated this show to legendary status, the latter culminating in a crescendoing flurry of flailing violins, frantic percussion and Jonsi’s possessed e-bowing with jaw-droppingly sublime results. The twelve-minute Untitled 8, even without the epilepsy-inducing light show was as monumentally intense as ever and perhaps in recognition that this was an unusual show, they added an unprecedented second encore to preview brand new Anglophonic track. “All Alright”

If they have one fault, it’s that they may be too polished for their own good- a touch more rawness wouldn’t go amiss from time to time. But otherwise it was an breathtaking performance from one of the world’s most impressive live bands; a beautiful introduction for first-timers, an intimate treat for the seasoned fan.

(Photo: John Gleeson; Shimelle (Flickr))
MY BLOODY VALENTINE (London Roundhouse, 20/06/08)

Whilst most bands reunite for money, an ego-boost, or an ill-fated attempt to reclaim past glories, one gets the impression that when someone as prickly and perfectionist as Kevin Shields decides to make a comeback, he’s got a damn good reason to. And whilst My Bloody Valentine don’t have any new material on show just yet, tonight’s show more than proves they’ve not lost the scintillating energy that made them such a draw the first time round. The fierce opening chords of Only Shallow immediately dispelled fears their 14 year hiatus had softened them, and there’s little faulting any other of their picks from Loveless either. Some folks complained the vocals were inaudible throughout, but vocals have never been a prominent element of the MBV sound- anf in all honesty, most of songs work just as well as pure instrumentals. Their legendary reputation for volume held up to scrutiny throughout the evening, ultimately culminating in the twenty minute, tinnitus-baiting coda of You Made Me Realise: 128.9 dB of pure unyielding feedback that sounded like a jet-plane taking off in your face. At that kind of volume, sound ceases to be just noise but something tangibly physical; you could actually feel the vibrations wracking your body. Not exactly a pleasant experience as such, but the sheer sense of sensory overload was nothing if not memorable and almost hypnotic in a way I can’t quite place. Definitely one of the most unforgettable gigs I’ve ever been to, albeit one (for the sake of my eardrums) I’m not desperate to repeat any time soon.

(Photo: MBV-Glider (Flickr))
LIARS and DEERHUNTER (London Koko, 17/06/08)

It’s always odd going to shows where you’ve not heard any of the acts playing. Sometimes it works out well- some of the best shows I’ve been to have involved bands I’d never experienced before- but more often I’ve walked out wondering what all the fuss was all about. This gig neatly encapsulated both, delivering both a resounding success and a somewhat damp squib.

The considered, melodic fuzz of Deerhunter wasn’t well served by the Koko’s dire acoustics, but despite the lack of volume and static stage demeanour it was clear that these guys have something special about them- they captured that same mesmerising, hazy groove that the Animal Collective crew does so well. A generous hour long support slot allowed them time to slowly build up their multi-layered walls of noise, and although some areas dragged a bit, I couldn’t help but be thoroughly impressed.

Liars on the other hand came across like a watered down Les Savy Fav- more notable for the antics of likable Ozzie frontman Angus Andrew rather than their musical abilities. That’s not to say their energetic post-punk is bad (although sometimes it really is terrible) but apart from a couple of endearing singalongs and the occasional inspired groove it never really sparked. In fairness, much of the blame lies with the dreadful audience who generally looked like they’d been dragged to the venue by gunpoint- any energy expended by the band was quickly lost in a void of indifference. But even taking that into account, there wasn’t much there that suggested they really deserved the hype- a fun diversion, but nothing more.

(Photo: Hidden Shine (Flickr))
MELT-BANANA (University of London Union, 16/06/08)

A night of aural madness courtesy of our Oriental cousins, mental Brighton-based glitchcore fiend DJ Scotch Egg opens the night’s proceedings with a typically hyperactive mix of looped Gameboy samples, speedcore beats and incomprehensible screaming which veered wildly from off-kilter brilliance to ear-bleeding awfulness. Thankfully the headliners were a more consistent proposition- Melt-Banana have honed their frantic J-Pop-meets-hardcore punk stylings to an absolute tee. As fun as their random ten second bursts of frenzied guitar mauling were, they actually worked best when focusing around recognisable song structures- their excellent cover of “Monkey Man” out-Polysiced the Polysics. It wasn’t perfect- for a band famed for their live performances, they often looked like they were going through the motions- but for uncomplicated, pogo-tastic fun they’re hard to fault.

(Photo: Bibi Zajtai (Flickr)