SING: IT'S IN GOD'S HANDS, BUT GOD DOESN'T ALWAYS HAVE THE BEST GODDAMN PLANS...

It's 10.20am on Sunday, and apart from an hour's kip on the plane back I've had no sleep since 5am Saturday morning so I'll keep this short for now. My jaunt to Manchester and Dublin to see Wolf Parade was bloody fantastic and I wish I had the time/money to spend more time travelling with good friends to see awesome shows.

Yeah, I know I said I wouldn't have time to update before I buggered off north, but two quick things:

i) Attention Chalky: Dengue Fever are playing the Scala on 18th June 2009!

ii) Fee Fie Foe Fum at the Cargo (involving the likes of Laura Marling and Mumford and Sons) has unsurprisingly sold out, which is bloody annoying as every time I tried to buy a ticket this morning the site kept on crashing. Only hope is to beg for a guestlist spot, I suppose. GRRRRR.

ANDREW BIRD- 'Noble Beast'

According to the NME, it's out on January 20th 2009. A 2-CD limited edition will also be available, containing collaborations with Glenn Kotche and Todd Sickafoose.

END COMMUNICATION.

WALTZ WITH BASHIR





So tonight, I went with one of my best friends to see the Israeli animated documentary 'Waltz With Bashir', which recounts director Ari Forman's attempts to unlock his 'lost memories' of the Lebanon War of 1982. Although he fought in Beirut as a 19-year old recruit, Forman realised he had no recollection of the events that transpired there and thus he began to interview old comrades to find out what really happened. It's a utterly stunning achievement- fascinating, illuminating, deeply emotional and commendably even-handed. The rotoscoped animation gives a dream-like, almost surrealistic air that serves only to enhance the horrors being recounted, taking what could have been quite a dry retelling of the Sabra and Shatila massacres and turning it into something acutely memorable. It's pretty harrowing at times, so if you like your subject matter light and frothy I shouldn't see this but personally, I couldn't recommend it highly enough. Certainly left me on a bit of a downer though- it's like the anti-I'm From Barcelona.

Anyhoo, with Ida Maria on Thursday, Wolf Parade in Manchester on Friday, Wolf Parade in Dublin on Saturday and a trip down to my esteemed (HA!) hometown of Watford on Sunday, probably no more updates this week. Have fun, y'all!

WOMEN (London Pure Groove Records, 26/11/08)




Women are perplexing, bemusing and damaged my eardrums. The band weren't great either (ba-dum-chsssssh!) Think Dirty Projectors without the harmonies or the falsetto warbling of giraffe-neck man and you're basically there. A couple of Frog Eyes-go-rock passages worked well but they were generally more memorable for their exceptional loudness than their musical talents.

THE RETURN OF BLUR

According to an interview with Damon Albarn on XFM, 90's brit-pop legends Blur are in the process of reforming. Still early days- they're just jamming together to see if it'll work- but that'd be a reunion show I'd pay good money to see. Plus it might encourage Jarvis Cocker to do the decent thing and resurrect Pulp, which would be the BEST. THING. EVER.

I HAVE BUILT A TREEHOUSE, I HAVE BUILT A TREEHOUSE, NOBODY CAN SEE US, FOR IT'S A YOU AND ME HOUSE...



Giant balloons, mustachioed Swedes, mentalist Frenchwomen with songs about wet dreams, people falsely claiming to be Ben, pogoing, my exceptional singing skills, SHOCKING revelations, reckless arm-waving, CB's cleavage/confetti interface schemes and general across-the-board madness...yup, tonight's I'm From Barcelona show was bloody fantastic and once I've got a night in I'll try to write a review that does it justice.

(Photo: Anika)

JEFFREY LEWIS (Brixton Windmill, 24/11/08)



Wow, it's been quite a while since I've been to Brixton- I suppose after working there for a year I'd had enough of its mentalist street evangelists, blase drug dealers and curious mix of vibrant multi-culturalism and inescapable low-level menace for the foreseeable future. But events transpired to bring me back there today (despite the best efforts of influenza, asthma and two-hour (!!!) tube delays) for an excellent early-evening show by lo-fi indie troubadour Jeffrey Lewis.

His voice is never going to win awards, but Lewis' endearingly scattershot approximation of the notes he's supposed to be hitting fits perfectly with his similarly ramshackle attitude to song-writing. One of the grand old men of the New York anti-folk scene, typified by their focus on quirky, often surreal lyrics and subject matters, he wittily sums up his range of his oeuvre as "morose introspection, or animals." The melodies themselves are simple (although Stanley Brinks of Herman Dune fame is on hand to add a little extra depth) but they're ulimately unimportant- for Lewis, it's all about the words. And whether they concern love or more esoteric topics he infuses them with his trademark wit and creativity, making them more short stories put to music than 'songs' in the classical folk sense. A couple of Crass covers (from his recent LP consisting of nothing but) are particularly well received, but the highlights were, as always, when Lewis unleashed his formidable cartooning skills. Last time I saw him, he delivered a fantastic illustrated lesson on Mao's Long March which was both illuminating and hilarious and today he gave two similar examples of his genius. Early in the set, he gave us a short, minute-long 'documentary' about the life of Obama, where he succinctly summarised the President-elect's career via the medium of an beautifully illustrated A3 sketch pad and a spoken word poem; later on we received his skewed (although, alas, unfinished) take on the film-noir genre which included a memorable and perhaps unique instance of saxophone sex. Quite.

Unfortunately, time constraints meant he could only perform for a touch over 45 minutes (he played a more substantial set later than evening, which both CB and Anika attended) but despite the show's brevity, it was well worth the significant stress involved in trekking there. The man's quite possibly a genius, and I'll definitely have to be more on-the-ball when his next shows go on sale- three quarters of an hour in Jeffrey Lewis' company just ain't enough.

A MAN WHO PUTS US ALL TO SHAME




After more than 5,000 gigs over 35 years, rock fan Ray Morrissey can claim to be Britain's most prolific concert-goer.

On piles of notebook pages in Mr Morrissey's front room, thousands of gigs are listed, one per line, all with a mark out of 10 circled at the end.

And stacks of diaries have more details of the shows, three or four a week - what they were like, what they played, who was there.

Continued....

My flatmate Facebooked me the following:

"His coat has more buttons and stuff than yours, therefore, I am inviting him to move into your bedroom and become new Adam to replace you."

I am distraught.

HOPE OF THE STATES: A RETROSPECTIVE



So Hope of the States- the band that started it all. In 2004 I was a fresh-faced first-year student at the University of York, already dabbling in slightly more obscure stuff than my nu-metal loving compatriots when I read a review by John Earls concerning an exciting up-and-coming Chichester six-piece that had produced the best first demo of any band he’d heard in all his years as a music critic. My interest piqued, I investigated further- I purchased this band’s first single “The Red, The White, The Black, The Blue” on the day of release and the rest, as they say is history. For the first time, I had discovered the thrill of knowing about a band that was still bubbling under the radar, a band of quite exceptional talent that in a fair world would be playing arenas by now. I bought their debut ‘The Lost Riots’ the day it came out, heard The Black Amnesiacs and felt my jaw drop to the floor; a month later I went to my first ‘proper’ London gig- I don’t count the Red Hot Chilli Peppers- at the Electric Ballroom and came to realise quite how breathtaking live music could be. In essence, it’s their fault (along with Arcade Fire) that I’ve spent almost £5000 on gigs over the last four and a half years, and I’m eternally grateful for it.

So what did they sound like? Perhaps you’d call them an orchestral take on Radiohead, with a touch of the celestial soundscapes of Sigur Ros, the post-rock grandeur of Mogwai and the unabashed bombast of Muse. They were ambitious, epic, unashamedly emotional and not even Sam Herhily’s vocals (more often than note a gargled, tuneless monotone) could scupper their brilliance. ‘The Lost Riots’ to this day remains one of my favourite records of all time- it has a couple of duff tracks, but it also has ‘Black Dollar Bills,’ the song that most perfectly captures everything I loved about them, the sweeping scope, the gorgeous post-rock build-ups, the tinnitus-inducing guitars at the end.

But foremost, they remain the best ’rarities’ band I’ve ever encountered. Whilst their big-name record company was pressuring them to go for a mainstream demographic (ultimately leading to the poppier, radio-friendly sophomore effort ‘Left‘) Hope of the States were busy beavering away at far more left-field compositions. Take the 40 minute instrumentals of the Dust Rackets (leaked by the band with permission to distribute to others in CD form, but not online) or their formidable collection of B-sides that showed an experimental side brutally shorn from their ‘official’ material. Indeed, the name of this very blog is taken from a song released on their rare L’Ark Pour Les Enfants Terrible EP, of which only 500 were ever made and were given out to the first 50 people at each date of their Autumn 2004 tour. It’s a truly awesome collection of music, and I recall many happy hours listening to it as I revised for my Politics exams.

Their efforts were all in vain, of course. HOTS never really recovered from the death of original guitarist Jimmy Lawrence (who hung himself in their studio just after they recorded The Lost Riots) and ‘Left’ was a commercial and critical failure- which is a shame, because it wasn't too bad at all; Forwardirekton was one of the best things they ever did. The band played their last show at Reading 2006 before splitting amicably, with Sam subsequently forming a post-rock outfit “Troubles” and violinist Big Mike offering his services to Lightspeed Champion. I live in hope for a reunion someday- I know loads of people who’d love them to tour again- but even if they don’t, I’ll always have the memories of the four times I was lucky enough to see them.

And that’s not the whole story- I could mention the efforts they put into their physical releases (the Black Dollar Bills single coming in a hessian bag, L’Ark Pour Les Enfants Terrible hand-bound in twine), the evocative projection and video work from Type2Error and their still-active fan forum, which gave me my first insight into the often terrifying world of online musical communities. But for now, I'll leave you with the video to Black Dollar Bills:



and a link to their fan website, which has free downloads of their B-sides and rarities (including the song A Heart Can Stop A Bullet):

http://www.hopeofthestates.com/tempmedia.php

(Photo: BrokenWindows.org)

SHEARWATER (London St. Giles-in-the-Fields Church, 22/11/08)



Well, that was pretty special. In a week consisting of long-awaited gigs by TVOTR and Sigur Ros, I often found myself forgetting about this intimate show at London’s lovely St. Giles church but in the event it proved itself to be more than a match for those heavy-hitters.

Despite what I’d been led to believe, Woodpigeon weren’t actually supporting but the organisers compensated for their absence by selecting a roster of similarly high-calibre folksters to tide us by. I only caught the last song by Brighton’s macabre Bird Engine, but his striking voice had carried to the front lobby and had immediately piqued my interest- shame I didn’t see more. Texan Greg Weeks and his all-female band were pretty decent too, their folk-pop buoyed by some stunning harmonies and it was once again a pleasure to witness the excellent Absentee in action. His grizzled, subterranean vocals rumbled arrestingly through their delicate, harmonic folk, rendered in a more acoustic vein than on previous occasions and much better for it.

But then came forth Shearwater, who proceeded to blow all that had come before out of the fucking water. On The Death of The Waters was exactly what an opener should be- an awe-inspiring statement of intent that leaves no doubt in your mind that this band means BUSINESS. When halfway through the fragile piano balladry suddenly erupts into a massive, cacophonous blast of sound- huge, fuzzy guitar chords, trumpets, Jon Meiburg pounding the vintage ivories like a man possessed- I was almost knocked off my pew (which, incidentally, wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as you wusses were making out) by the sheer force of it. And thus a benchmark was set that the band consistently matched- occasionally the melodies were slighter than the arrangements that supported them but for the most part they constantly and continuously impressed. Meiburg’s fey falsetto, reminiscent of Anthony Hegarty’s can become somewhat trying on record, but it’s flawless live, a perfect match for the acoustic brilliance of the venue, the intricacies of their songwriting and the incredible variety of the instrumentation on offer. Not content with restricting themselves to cellos, pianos, trumpets, drums, glockenspiels, acoustic and electric guitars, clarinets and melodicas, chandelier-swinging Norse deity THOR adds a couple of toys of his own devising to the mix. One is a self-made string instrument hewn a rough piece of wood, the other an eerie, ethereal sounding device called the ‘waterphone’.



As imparted to CB, John and myself after the show by THOR himself, the waterphone was invented by a man called Richard Waters in California back in the 70’s and uses water to bend the pitch, creating an effect not too dissimilar to Sigur Ros’ e-bowing technique, except sharper and more metallic. The actual instrument used by THOR was actually made by him and his welder housemate, which I thought was pretty cool.

And to cap it all off, they even made me enjoy the work of Clinic with a stunning cover of “Tomorrow”- a minor miracle, all things considered! A brilliant performance that with any justice should see Shearwater start to shake off the ‘Okkervil River side-project’ tag and establish themselves as a force to be reckoned with in their own right- because on the evidence here, they might well be the superior band.

THREE DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :-D





I make no apologies for being ridiculously excited about this, I'm From Barcelona's ULU gig was the most out-and-out fun gig I've ever been to- I had uncontrollable giggles for a good 15 minutes after the gig had finished, something that's never happened before or since. Now all I have to do is dig out my kazoo...

EDIT: Just found my original review of the ULU show. I laugh at my youthful naivety,- "oh no, three gigs in three days! I want my mummy! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!"

SIGUR ROS (London Alexandra Palace, 21/10/08)




Exactly the same deal as Thursday, with three exceptions:

i) More songs- they added Glosoli to the setlist.

ii) More volume- not too much, but you could definitely tell the difference.

iii) More water- they extended the 'waterfall' effect during Saeglopur and used it again during the first part of the mega crescendo in Untitled 8, evoking the old silk screen used on the Takk tour. Possibly the best rendition of that song I've ever seen, which given it's my favourite closer in the whole of gig-dom is something pretty fucking special.

Also bumped into the Radiohead-loving couple from last night (whose devotion to combining gigs and journeying to exotic places is an inspiration to us all), a Scottish guy I met at the Westminster show and at Those Dancing Days at Latitude, two teenagers who came up from the South Coast to the big city to whom I imparted valuable knowledge about London gig venues and everyone's favourite guerilla gig photographer Crazy Bobbles. I love being able to go to gigs and get chatting to fellow obsessees- nowadays it's half the fun!

Anyway, I should probably get all this confetti out of my hair before I go to bed- I was still finding the stuff for weeks after the Westminster gig.


(Photo: John Gleeson)

SIGUR ROS (London Alexandra Palace, 20/11/08)


(Hafsol Photo: Shimelle (Flickr))

Sigur Ros at Ally Pally could have gone so wrong. Gigs at that wind-swept aircraft carrier in the far north of the Piccadilly Line aren’t renowned for their atmosphere, depth of sound or quality of audiences- and with the ethereal Icelanders stripped down from a 14-man (and woman) all-singing, all-dancing retinue to their original four-piece incarnation it could have been a car-crash in motion. But they didn’t let me down. Oh no.

Like most of their shows, it started off slow. Perhaps too slow. The gorgeous Sven-f-englar plucked so memorably at my heart-strings back in June, but it didn’t quite work tonight- came across a bit hollow and stiffly-performed. It certainly wasn’t the fault of the sound, which was EXCEPTIONAL by Ally Pally standards, nor the quality of Jonsi’s voice which was absolutely beautiful, even more so than unusual. An excellent Ny Batteri was an early highlight, showcasing Sigur Ros’ more traditional post-rock leanings but they then moved onto some material from the new album, none of which was bad by any means but lacked the spark of their older, more intricate material. But once they‘d got that out of the way, Sigur Ros proceeded to remind me why they’re my second favourite band in the whole wide world.


(Saeglopur Photo: Shimelle (Flickr))

Saeglopur was the best I’ve ever heard it, accompanied by this fantastic effect whereby a thin ‘waterfall’ descended from the rigging, creating something akin to a silk-screen in front of the band; lights were then shone upon it producing a dream-like haze that perfectly complimented the twinkly glockenspiel-led heart of the song. Hafsol too was brilliant, Jonsi *obliterating* his bow with his frantic, 500-strokes-a-minute e-bowing during its ever-accelerating climax (my friend was the happy recipient of the remains). This was the song I was most concerned the lack of strings would diminish; in the event, it was only Hoppipolla that really suffered without the added orchestration- it wasn’t a tenth of a song it was at Latitude. Gobbledigook wasn‘t quite as sublime as it‘s been in the past, although that’s probably more to do with the audience’s reluctance to get into the sing-and-clap-along spirit of the thing. Support band For A Minor Reflection (who were, incidentally, REALLY impressive, quite Explosions In The Sky-esque) manfully took over the extra percussion duties the lovely Amiina used to perform, and they didn’t go half-mad with the confetti; fifteen metric tons of multi-coloured stuff streaming out of three cannons positioned to the front of a stage whilst a storm of white ’snow’ rained down from the rigging.


(Gobbldegook Photo: RichJM (Flickr))

And then for Popplagio, Untitled 8, the mother of all set closers. No matter how many times you see it, its 15-minute build up from a plaintive, slow-paced ballad into an incessant, swirl of tribal drums overlaid with Jonsi’s eerie wailing before exploding in an apocalyptic explosion of post-rock transcendence remains one of the most amazing experiences live music can offer. On past tours, they’ve heightened the experience by lowering a thin silk curtain between band and audience, leaving only the silhouettes of the band visible, then beaming epilepsy-inducing projections onto the screen, encompassing viewers in squall of sensory overload. This time, they just got three huge industrial fans pointing straight at the audience, released their remaining reserves of white confetti and let the fuck loose- combined with the face-melting sound and the epic strobe-lighting it was a truly mind-blowing moment, as these photos capture pretty well:




(Popplagio Photos: Louis Persent; Glediator (Flickr))

So no, it wasn’t in the same league as the Southampton Guildhall, Westminster Methodist Hall or Latitude shows. But all three of those firmly hold a place in my ‘Top 10 Gigs EVER’ list, so that’s no particular slight on this one. Notwithstanding my quibbles, it was still one of the best performances I’ve seen this year, an absolute pleasure to attend and I eagerly await the opportunity to see them again tonight. I’m sure John will have got some great photos, I’ll post them here once he’s got them uploaded.

On a more personal note, it was great to meet up with the old Us Kids Know crowd, doesn’t happen enough nowadays and I got chatting to some new folks including one who recognised me from the Westminster show (and has seen Radiohead 42 times!) And DAMN, I forgot how amazing the view of London is from a-top of Alexandra Hill at night…possibly the most beautiful sight the big city has to offer.


(Photo: Mappamundo (Flickr))

PARTS AND LABOR BACK IN LAHNDAHN!

Melodic Brooklyn noise-rockers who totally rocked my socks off supporting Battles in ‘07 and at the miniscule Corsica Studios in ’08 return to London in ’09 to deliver what will surely be another ear-bleeding assault of volume and truly epic drum skillz. Get tickets for their Cargo show (it’s only £7.50!) on 19th February HERE

Parts and Labor on Myspace

(I'd particularly recommend ‘Fractured Skies’- one of the best songs of 2007).


(Photo: Lucylovestodance (Flickr))

TV ON THE RADIO (Shepherd’s Bush Empire, 19/11/08)


Far too often, I’ve found that the EQ mix can be the decisive factor in whether I enjoy a set or not. Not even the best bands can always wrest victory from muggy, incoherent sound, and tonight TV On The Radio struggled to convey their breathtaking talent over ridiculously high bass and rhythm guitar levels and almost inaudible vocals. After two and a half years of waiting to see them this was pretty upsetting, and what made it worse is that the set had moments of such staggering brilliance you felt you were being denied one of the best gigs you’d ever see.

But let’s concentrate on the good for now. They opened with Young Liars, which elicited much fangirl-ish squealing from me and deservedly so; its intensely soulful, perfectly pitched whistled intro make the likes of Andrew Bird almost look like charlatans and Tunde Adebimpe’s mesmerisingly dynamic performance is astonishing to behold. I’ve honestly not seen a frontman so utterly absorbed in his music for a long time, although it does have a downside- TVOTR are a pretty distant bunch as it is, and combined with the minimalist set-up it doesn’t help them to connect with the audience. The sleighbell-tastic Dirtywhirl was slightly mellower than expected but still great, and as for Wolf Like Me…well, what I can say? It was literally one of the best live songs I’ve seen in my life. It was just as life-affirming as I’d prayed it would be, I sung myself completely hoarse and it was worth on it's own the ticket-price three times over. Unfortunately, it set a standard the rest of the set couldn’t hope to live up to, especially given the sound issues. Golden Age was fierce and spiky but all subtleties (including Kyp Malone's soul vocals) got lost in the mix; Dancing Choose was neutered due to the lack of live horns, DLZ and Shout Me Out were decent but not as good as they could, and should have been. Interestingly, all the disappointments came courtesy of new album Dear Science so perhaps it's just a case of the band not having warmed to the material yet but then again, Stork and Owl and Red Dress were actually much better than their recorded incarnations, the latter's relative bounciness working particularly well in a live setting. In any event, by the end of the main set I couldn't help feeling slightly despondant about the whole thing.

Mercifully, the encore redeemed the situation enough for me to leave with a smile on my face. Crying wasn’t anything special, but Let The Devil In was, eschewing the bass for extra drums for a vital, stripped-down bluesy feel which Tunde accentuated with some sublimely impassioned vocals and a raved-up rendition Staring At The Sun ended the show on a real high, even persuading the dour hipsters swarming the venue to show a little enthusiasm. Didn’t assuage my annoyance at missing both the by all accounts superior Koko and Cargo gigs of course, but despite the awful sound and weaker new songs it ultimately felt less a genuine disappointment than merely an opportunity missed.

(Photo: Dave Emery (Flickr))

Full review tomorrow, but my thoughts on the much, much anticipated TV On The Radio gig basically broke down as follows (sorry for the lack of pie charts or other illustrative aids, but it's too early in the morning for my brain to handle Excel):

60%- Hmmm. Pretty good, but nowhere near as good as I was expecting.
30%- Oh yeah, that's a bit more like it.
5%- HELL YES! Whistling solos FOR THE WIN!
5%- OhmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodTHATWASLITERALLYONEOFTHEBESTTHINGSI'VEEVERSEENIWANTTOCRYTEARSOFJOYI'MSOFUCKINGHAPPYATTHISMOMENT!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bit of a mixed bag then. Sigur Ros Part Uno tonight, let's hope the cavernous environs of Ally Pally can do them justice.

In honour of this week's awesome run of gigs, here are some live videos for you:


TV ON THE RADIO- WOLF LIKE ME (on The Letterman Show)


Quite possibly my favourite live performance on the whole of YouTube. I'm so excited about finally seeing them tomorrow, after just missing out on tickets for their 2006 Koko show.

SIGUR ROS- HOPPIPOLLA (on Jools Holland)


This performance, when first aired by the BBC in 2005, single-handedly persuaded me to put aside my misgivings about the ethereal Icelanders and buy a ticket for their Manchester Apollo show. Now they're my second favourite band in the world, after Arcade Fire.

SHEARWATER- ROOKS (South By Southwest Festival)


More than just an Okkervil River spin-off. Far more complex and enchanting than anything I'd been expecting, Shearwater were the big revelation of the End Of The Road season.

The schedule for the rest of 2008:

19/11- TV On The Radio
20/11- Sigur Ros
21/11- Sigur Ros
22/11- Shearwater
24/11- Jeffrey Lewis
25/11- I'm From Barcelona
27/11- Ida Maria
28/11- Wolf Parade (IN MANCHESTER!)
29/11- Wolf Parade (IN DUBLIN!)
01/12- Wolf Parade (IN LONDON!)
02/12- Deerhoof
03/12- Department Of Eagles
04/12- Dan Le Sac Vs. Scroobius Pip with Wintersleep
06/12- The Outside Royalty
07/12- Bon Iver
08/12- Loney, Dear
11/12- Rachel Unthank and the Winterset
12/12- M83
14/12- Jamie Lidell
16/12- Emmy The Great
17/12- The Hold Steady

CHAIRLIFT (London Pure Groove Records, 18/11/08)



















Chairlift have been dubbed in some quarters as "the new MGMT" which is a) slightly worrying, as the originals really haven't been around long enough to warrant a new version of themselves and b) not entirely accurate. I mean, yeah, it's obvious from the first milli-second you set eyes on them they hail from Brooklyn and true, they have their occasional moments of MGMT-esque cosmic space-disco splendour but on the evidence of the four songs previewed at Pure Groove's lunchtime in-store, it seems Chairlift take a generally more downbeat attitude to pop than their New York peers.

Bruises (i.e. that song from iPod commercial) is a fine slab of indie pop, albeit one almost tailor-made to score adverts for hipster gear, but it isn't that representative of the rest of their work. More often they come across as a mix of Yeasayer, Asobi Seksu, Beach House and M83, shamelessly channelling an 80's New Romantic vibe but underpinning it with oh-so-very-now tribal grooves and a smattering of always-welcome COWBELL*. It sounded good, and may even be endowed with the elusive quality of mainstream crossover appeal- but world-weary cynic as I am, I couldn't help but think, "haven't I heard this all before?" Personally, I thought they were at their best when they cranked up the funk for 'Planet Earth,' which also allowed Caroline Polachek's vocals the opportunity to soar- hers is not a voice that should be restrained to murmering over minor-chord synths. Obviously, you can't derive a full assessment of a band on the strength of four songs, but I was cautiously impressed- I'd be up for checking them out for a full set the next time they're over.

Chairlift on MySpace

(Photo: Anika)


* Capitalised for good reason. I am an ardent believer in the creed of "MOAR COWBELL!" Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata would have been so much better with a frantic cowbell break-down in the coda.

JEFFREY LEWIS PLAYING SECOND SET AT WINDMILL!

Anti-folk legend and master cartoonist Jeffrey Lewis will be playing a 7pm set at the Brixton Windmill on Monday 24th in addition to his sold-out performance there later that evening. Tickets still available on WeGotTickets, but they're selling like hotcakes!

A non-gig-related post in this here blog? Well, I’ll be mogadored! I suppose it’s about time I give this old thing a dust down- over a year of non-laptop-osity has made it difficult to find time to download music, let alone blog about it. But now I’m blessed with shiny new computery goodness I’ll be making a concerted effort to update this page, not just with reams of endless gig reviews (although they’ll still be coming- the next few weeks are insane even by my standards) but with song recommendations and even MP3’s for you to download. HUZZAH!

So I’ve spent the last two weeks catching up on a fourteen month backlog of music downloading and I’ve found myself listening obsessively to a number of bands all beginning with the letter ‘D’. I’m not sure if there’s some mystic significance about that letter; personally, I’ve never been a great fan even though it does appear twice in my name. However, that is not the point! The point is that these are all very good, nay, fantastic acts that deserve your time and attention! Behold:

DAN DEACON

Dan Deacon, why must you taunt me so? My friends, seasoned gig-fiends of renown have attested to the life-affirming qualities of your shows; one even referred to it as “the best gig he’s ever been to.” Three times I have tried to see you, and three times you have let me down- once by clashing with the almighty Sunset Rubdown, and twice by losing your passport just before you were supposed to play Field Day/support No Age. And this was before I’d heard anything beyond the stripped-down fuzzed-up brilliance of single The Crystal Cat.

Last week, I finally heard the entirety of Spiderman of the Rings. And I’m not going to lie, it rocked my world so hard I nearly slapped myself for not checking it out sooner, and made me even more distraught about my continuing state of Deaconlessness. Almost every tune on it’s a gem- “Pink Batman’s” swirling harpsichords and MIDI synths; “Big Milk” recalling Mùm’s more reflective moments; “Jimmy Joe Roche” a chorus of malfunctioning Gameboy’s assaulting the eardrums and the C major scale with carefree abandon.

But all pale in comparison to the album’s centrepiece, a song that has kicked everything I’ve heard this year into a cocked hat. Sounding like the hallucinations of a man OD-ing on Skittles being fed through a Spectrum sound-chip; Of Montreal‘s “The Past Is A Grotesque Animal” on an almighty sugar rush, “Wham City” is twelve minutes of irresistibly skewed electro-twee-krautrock genius, a track that should either see the man committed to a mental asylum, or elected President of the World. It is joyous. It is epic. It is utterly fucking sublime. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand all together now:

There is a mountain of snow, up past the big glen,
We have a castle enclosed, there is a fountain,
Out of the fountain flows gold into a huge hand,
That hand was held by a bear who had a sick band…
(repeat to fade)

Dan Deacon- Wham City

DENGUE FEVER

John Earls has been banging on about these guys for a while, and for the first time in ages I’ve agreed with him. Their unusual (unique?) fusion of Cambodian influences- lead Chhom Nimol hails from the country- and old-school psychedelic rock lends a certain exotic air to tunes that aren’t particularly noteworthy in themselves and transforms them into something quite enchanting. The formula does wear thin over a full album- melodically they’re so indebted to late-60’s California that not even the Asian elements can fully dispel qualms regarding how derivative it is but mellow, atmospheric highlights like Sober Driving and Monsoon of Perfume are well worth your time.

Dengue Fever- Sober Driver

DEPARTMENT OF EAGLES

A gross blasphemy I know, but apart from the lovely “Knife” I’ve never really dug critical darlings Grizzly Bear- too fey, too delicate, too darned wishy-washy for my uncultured, bombast-loving ears. So I didn’t exactly rush to check out the second full-length release from side-project Department of Eagles until I was offered a ticket to their upcoming show at the London Borderline. I listened to the eponymous opening track. Once it had finished, I immediately put it on again. And again. And then another few times for good measure, because my brain couldn’t quite comprehend the magnitude of my error in neglecting music this goddamned stunning. And when I finally found the emotional fortitude to continue further, I found an record brimming from the seams with endless aural delight. “Phantom Offer“ delivers a rockier edge reminiscent of latter day Beatles (and here the comparisons are almost justified). “Teenagers” is what I’d imagine a Debussy/Brian Wilson collaboration would sound like, all minor chords and beauty out of dissonance. “Classical Records” is Fleet Foxes covering Efterklang. “Waves of Rye” has this brilliantly oppressive minor-key intro that reminds me a bit of that cool 28 Days Later instrumental that was used in a gazillion adverts, you know the one. It’s just an absolute wonder to behold. It’s an album that wears its Sixties’ influences on its sleeve but isn’t hamstrung by it- some elements are distinctly modern, recalling the shimmering psychedelia of Panda Bear in a more compressed, classical form. The instrumentation is luscious and varied too; the production perfectly complimenting the subtly ethereal air in the best wall-of-sound tradition. To be honest, I didn’t think anything could top Dear Science as my favourite release of 2008, but In Ear Park is straight in there with an bullet- the Borderline show can‘t come soon enough...

Department of Eagles- Teenagers

DANANANAYKROYD

Back in the day I wrote a review about these guys‘ support set for The Mae Shi in August, extolling the total awesomeness of their live show. The Glaswegian six-piece- pronounced like the Batman theme tune, in case you were wondering- may not have quite the same impact on record, stripped of their “human archways” and “wall of hugs” but they still show more promised than other similarly hyped DiS-types (I’m looking at you, Johnny Foreigner.) “1993” is my favourite cut from their new EP; imagine a punk-rock version of Los Campesinos! and you‘re pretty much there. Rumour has it they’re (deservedly) attracting a lot of industry attention, so check them out now whilst they’re still playing small venues- I doubt they will be for much longer.

Danananananaykroyd- 1993

MERCURY REV (Shepherd’s Bush Empire, 13/11/08)

You’ve got to feel sorry for Mercury Rev- no matter hard I try, I just can’t help thinking of them as the poor relation to the Flaming Lips. Both feature spaced-out cosmic melodies overlaid with earnest, quasi-mystical vocals; Jonathan Donahue could easily pass himself as Wayne Coyne’s slighty diabolic older brother and they even share personnel: Revs keyboardist Dave Fridmann produced the albums that propelled the Lips from a cult concern into one of the most beloved indie bands on the planet. But whilst the Flaming Lips manage to add a huge dose of fun and wonderment to their space-age wall-of-sound epics, Mercury Rev always have come across as a bit po-faced. And unfortunately, this show didn’t do much to dispel that.

It’s a shame, because when they were good, they were very, very good- the material from Deserters Songs was fantastic (Holes especially), with propulsive drums and trippy lighting adding immensely to the experience. Donahue is a brilliant frontman, a slightly terrifying fellow in his early forties with a penchant for drama and expressive movements- he’s the kind of guy who can’t stay still for a movement, prowling across the stage if he’s not acting out the lyrics out of the song. I actually often found myself wishing he was attached to a more consistent band. For it all too often descended into endless proggy meandering, songs lacking the melodic strength or instrumental creativity to sustain them and I’d imagine even the most hardcore fan must have drifted off several times throughout. Mercury Rev are almost as bad as latter-day Iron & Wine for taking a decent song and stringing it out beyond human reckoning, diminishing their own potential greatness through hubris and self-indulgence. I mean, I’m glad I saw them and finally got the chance to see Opus 40 live, but I won’t be rushing out to see them again anytime soon- the flashes of brilliance couldn’t quite compensate for the long stretches of boredom.

(Photo: Purplecatster (Flickr))

EMMY THE GREAT (London Rough Trade East, 13/11/08)

The first time I saw Emma-Lee Moss live it was at her first ever headline show (Old Blue Last, November 2006). Noah and the Whale were her backing band, chocolate cake and Victoria sponge was dispensed at the door and she was obviously suffering from a slight case of nerves. Nonetheless, despite the slight shakiness in her voice she came across very well, the fragility even adding an extra dimension to the likes of the Secret Circus- it was clear that she had the talent to go far. Two years on, and the free cake was not so forthcoming. But she’s grown in confidence and her roster of songs has bulked up considerably too. Performing five tracks from her soon-to-be-released-after-two-and-a-half-years-of-fannying-about debut album “First Love,” it’s interesting to note that her new material is less obviously “anti-folk” than before- perhaps that particular ship has sailed? In any case, it hasn’t diminished the quality of her writing- indeed, the new single “We Almost Had A Baby” rivals The Secret Circus as my favourite Emmy song, even if it sounds more Camera Obscura than anything she’s done before. She also delivered a twee take on the Pixies’ “Where Is My Mind?” which against all odds works really well, especially with her new-and-improved backing band. To be honest, I’d forgotten about her until recently, what with her peers Laura Marling and Noah and the Whale eclipsing her success-wise, but on the strength of this performance I have no doubt she’ll seize back the initiative once that debut’s finally out.

(Photo: Anika)

OKKERVIL RIVER (Shepherd’s Bush Empire, 13/11/08)

Another fine show from the Texan folk-rockers, although tour fatigue is obviously starting to set in. Never quite hitting the heady heights of brilliance of their Luminaire and Scala sets, it began in an unusually pedestrian manner for a band who’ve always impressed with their passion and drive (the exceptions being gangly frontman Will Sheff, who clearly loves being a rock star and perpetually-happy drummer Travis Nelson, the most cheerful man in indie.) A curiously thin sound mix didn’t bring the best out of them either, the density and texture of their sound being key to their appeal and as a result, the atmosphere lacked the reverence of previous shows. But you can always trust OR to ultimately deliver the goods, and the knockout run of Lost Coastlines, Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe and Unless It’s Kicks kicked things up a gear or ten, elevating the energy levels much closer to what I’d expect from such a top-tier live act. Hope they rest up and rejuvenate themselves soon though- no-one wants to see them burn themselves out. As for the supports- Stars and Sons sounded like a hybrid of Air Traffic/The Hoosiers and The Hold Steady, thus evoking both curiosity and acute bemusement and the Dodo’s were much as they were last time- a potentially awesome band hamstrung by their inability to edit their songs.

(Photo: Pfirsich Maracuja (Flickr))

THE RUBY SUNS (London Lexington, 05/11/08)

You know how once upon a time Architecture In Helsinki were brilliant live, full of light-hearted eccentricity and ADHD-riddled charm? And then they shed two members, and suddenly started taking themselves a lot more seriously and became a lot less fun as a result? Well, imagine if the remaining six-piece was whittled down to a duo, scale down the glee factor accordingly and you’d get something akin to dreadfully disappointing Antipodeans The Ruby Suns. I was expecting so much from this gig on the strength of recent release “Sea Lion” but heavily reliant on backing tracks and lacking the harmonic splendour of the albums it all came across like a sixth-rate Casiotone For The Painfully Alone with a Tropicana tint.

(Photo: oliver.peel (Flickr))

WHY? (London Scala, 04/11/08)














Full Review HERE

(Photo: Namestage (Flickr))

ERIN McKEOWN (London Green Note, 30/10/08)

Fun fact: “Slung-Lo” was the first song I ever illegally downloaded (a result of a glowing review from John Earls all the way back in 2003). So after discovering the victim of my unpardonable crime was performing a solo show in Camden, I felt obliged to atone for my youthful misdeeds by trekking down to the trendiest, hippiest depths of Camden and expending my finances on a gig ticket. And funnily enough, I ended up enjoying this than the much more anticipated Martha Wainwright show two nights before. The cult folkie’s a lady of the Regina Spektor mould- a tiny, quirky Brooklynite, perhaps not blessed with the same astonishing range or tone vocally but with some mean guitar-playing skills and a fantastic rapport with the audience. On the whole, her earlier material has more character than what came thereafter but she’s such a seasoned musician that even her weaker tracks sounded better than they had any right to be. Shame she didn’t actually play Slung-Lo (despite my plaintive bleatings) but hey, I was charmed enough to guarantee my attendance at her next London show. Excellent.

(Photo: Mickeydoodah (Flickr))

MARTHA WAINWRIGHT (Shepherd’s Bush Empire, 28/10/08)

A prime example of why patience is a virtue. Apparently the second half of Martha’s gig was fantastic, with the superior Wainwright sibling showcasing her marvellously soulful vocals and intensely personal lyrics, tied together with unusual vibrancy and charisma. Alas, I left half way through, underwhelmed by her apparent transformation into AN Other Alt-Country Songstress, which no number of special guests or cute dresses could disguise.

(Photo: kafka_on_the_shore (Flickr))

THE LAST SHADOW PUPPETS (Hammersmith Apollo, 26/10/08)

Arctic Monkey and Rascal engage in extended Scott Walker pastiche with mixed results. The first two songs genuinely blew me away- twenty-five musicians going at full pelt, crystal-clear sound, a real atmospheric 60’s vibe- it was amazing. Unfortunately, they then continued doing exactly the same thing for the next 75 minutes, often under-utilising the massed musical forces at their disposal. I’ll give Alex Turner his dues- he’s a damn good songwriter and he captures the whole feel of the era perfectly- but the material’s simply too one-note to carry a whole show.

(Photo: Aurelien (Flickr))

OLAFUR ARNALDS (London Union Chapel, 25/10/08)

A selection of mostly instrumental compositions from Icelandic film composer Olafur Arnalds, accompanied by a string quartet and laptop beats (when he remembered to trigger them). A touch soporific at times, when everything came together the effect was often quite beautiful, especially in the exquisite surroundings of Islington’s Union Chapel- the dove projections during the last song were a lovely touch. LOOK AT ME MA, I’M CULTURED!

(Photo: Moronica (Flickr))

MOGWAI (Hammersmith Apollo, 24/10/08)











After my long-suffering eardrums were brutalised under the onslaught of My Bloody Valentine’s 130dB wall of noise, I didn’t think loud volumes had the ability to affect me any more. Mogwai set out to prove me wrong. I’ve never really ‘got’ the Scottish guitar-based post-rockers before, I always found them lacking in comparison to their more orchestral genre buddies but I think I understand their appeal a lot more after seeing them live. They’re not the most visually engaging act on Planet Earth, the projections being laughably awful and they’re certainly not the types for gimmicks, but when it comes to BEING VERY VERY LOUD they deliver satisfaction in spades. I’m still not sold on the substance of many of the songs themselves (Batcat being an exception) but the crescendos and sudden shifts into ear-pounding guitar freakouts were well worth waiting for. Exceptional support slots too from noiseniks Fuck Buttons and Errors, the latter who I hadn’t heard before but have intrigued me enough to investigate further.

(Photo: discoroge (Flickr))

M83 (London Scala, 22/10/08)

I won’t lie- I wasn’t expecting this show to be THAT good. Whilst M83’s seductive 80’s synths are awesome on record, they didn’t strike me as the kind of thing that would work well in a live setting. And on first impressions, this seemed to be the case- the band rely significantly on pre-recorded backing tracks and vocals, there’s no visual element and the band seem distant and aloof (although they’re French, so you probably should expect that...) But as the show went on, M83 started to loosen up. Although they’re heavily reliant on laptops, they’re still more hands-on that the likes of Blonde Redhead, who annoyed me by virtue of being a karaoke act purporting to be live music. The drumming was impeccable throughout, providing the propulsive core that held everything together and most importantly for a band that deals with soundscapes the sound mix was fucking spot-on, exactly as expansive and voluminous as you could hope for. We Own The Sky and Graveyard Girl were obvious highlights, filling the room with an all-encompassing shoegaze-y haze of lush electronica, but it was Couleurs with its Justice-esque dance-party outro that ruled the night, reflecting a more light-hearted side to the band that isn’t always apparent. A superb performance, it’s made me even more excited about their upcoming show at St. Giles-In-The-Fields Church...if the acoustics there are as good as I’ve heard, it’s going to be *astounding*.

(Photo: Robert Dougan (Flickr))

MIRACLE FORTRESS (London 93 Feet East, 21/10/08)

Last show of the entire tour, and they fluff it. It wasn’t even Miracle Fortress’ fault- not even a flurry of balloons and some very animated performances (including vodka-bottle percussion- not recommended) could counteract the absolutely dire sound that sapped any potential atmosphere the band could have created. Graham Van Pelt’s solo moments worked relatively well, especially the minimalist rendering of Next Train but compared to the amazing Luminaire show this was a crushing disappointment.

(Photo: trent_maynard (Flickr))

HOLY FUCK (University of London Union, 18/10/08)

Canadian electro-experiment-kraut-rock hybrid who for the forth time rocked my fucking ass off. Unlike many bands of their ilk, Holy Fuck refrain from taking the easy option and playing everything through an i-Mac; no, if something can be played live, it will. As well as their dedicated bassist and drummer, you’ve got two whole tables of pedals, dials, switches and what-have-you, keyboards, guitars, mics, melodicas and other mysterious paraphernalia used in the creation of their distinctive sound. They’ve also taken a more creative spin on their material these days, deviating from the album templates more boldly in the past, with varying results (wasn’t too keen on the new ending of Lovely Allen, which cut the amazing synth violins but fair play to them for trying something new.) Audience wasn’t the best, but the sound quality was crystal clear- and although in all honesty they don’t differ too much from show to show, I’d say it just pipped their superb 100 Club gig in April.

(Photo: lobingervanessa (Flickr))

THE OUTSIDE ROYALTY (London Tommy Flynn’s, 17/10/08)

They won’t be playing pubs like this for long. Despite standing out like a sore thumb on a line-up of lairy lad-rockers, the stylish Anglo-American sextet effortlessly won over a sceptical audience with their intriguing mix of Pulp-esque synth pop with AF orchestration. Time constraints initially allowed them only two songs, but they impressed the promoters so much they played another five- their own songwriting may still adhere too rigidly to familiar templates but it’s performed with such vitality that it doesn’t matter, and their cover of Eleanor Rigby alone deserves to see them hit the big time.

(Photo: John Gleeson)

JENNY LEWIS (London Koko, 17/10/08)

A former child-star and lead singer for alt-country-cum-80’s-disco-pastiche act Rilo Kiley, Jenny Lewis is a consummate show-woman from the tips of her red hair to the heels of her leather cowboy boots. And every iota of that star quality is required tonight, for it’s her sheer charisma alone that carries along a set that’s desperately lacking in quality songwriting. Her work with the Watson Twins was stellar, and even her weaker Rilo Kiley material comes to life in a live setting but here we’re delivered a stream of non-descript country that would have been roundly derided if not for her indie provenance. And that’s a real shame, as her band are excellent (especially her drummer), she herself puts on a full-throated vocal performance which compensates in part for the pedestrian balladry on offer and there are the occasional special moments- one song is accompanied only by the a capella harmonies of the rest of her entourage, which was really quite beautiful. But overall, it just increased my annoyance that I never got to see her on the Watson Twins tour- this, alas, was just a pale imitation.

(Photo: John Gleeson)

TILLY AND THE WALL (London Pure Groove, 17/10/08)

Tilly and the Wall get some undeserved stick from some quarters in the music press. Don’t know why, because they’re good fun; the tap-dancing percussion may be a gimmick but it’s also an integral part of their sound and their attitude is refreshingly relaxed and unpretentious. And although their songs won’t ever be accused of being especially deep and emotional, they’ve got a decent line in catchy melodies which serve them well in their live shows. Mind you, they’re best experienced in small doses (their headline show at York Fibbers in 2006 got a bit tiresome after a while) and thus this in-store was the perfect forum to check them out at. And they didn’t let me down; twenty-five minutes of up-tempo, smile-inducing bubblegum pop from a band who look like they’re really enjoying themselves. Great fun, and the perfect aperitif for an epic evening of music.

(Photo: Lorne Thomson (Flickr))

OF MONTREAL (London Koko, 16/10/08)

Of Montreal have never been exactly bastions of aesthetic conservatism, but Skeletal Lamping has seen them push forward their agenda of camptastic psychedelia with greater force than ever, as this extravaganza proudly stands testament to. The theatricality has been stepped up several notches. There’s now three back-up dancers, bedecked throughout in the night in a variety of weird and wonderful costumes- animal-headed men, golden monks and at one point a rather homoerotic satyr. But even if they tried, they couldn’t possibly upstage the centrepiece of this tableau of madness. Kevin Barnes has become a cross between Ziggy Stardust at Patrick Wolf at his most outrageous, a riot of flamboyance and colour, gyrating across the stage at one point with nowt but golden hotpants to hide his shame. He is a hero of our times, and I salute him.

And for the first time, the musical performance matches the theatrics in terms of quality. The most immediate improvement is the addition of a dedicated drummer, which strips the band of their detrimental reliance on drum machines. In the past, one could palpably feel the upward shift in energy levels when they got someone on the kit for the occasional song, and having full-time percussion really accentuates the vibrancy of the synths. Combine this with a sound-mix that finally does the bounce-about energy of the albums justice, and a more subtle using of backing tracks and you’ve got a set-up than finally does their genius justice. In fact, the first half of their set is in fact near faultless, with a perfect balance achieved between the more high-powered vignettes of Lamping, and classics like “She’s A Rejector”, “Heimdalsgate” and old-school favourite “Wraith Pinned To The Mist.” Unfortunately they can’t keep it up. They seriously lose momentum in the second half, the on-stage antics eclipsing the appeal of the setlist, which draws heavily from the more left-field moments of Skeletal Lamping. Ennui even starts to creep in, a catastrophe for an Of Montreal show, until they rally magnificently with a rapturously received (not least by me) “A Sentence Of Sorts In Kongsvinir.” An encore of Gronlandic Edit followed by a bizarrely faithful cover of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” wrap up proceedings in a fittingly chaotic manner (I’ve not jumped so much at a gig all year), leaving the audience grinning like loons. It’s still not the classic show Of Montreal clearly have the ability to deliver- they need to enliven the second half, or failing that, play A Past Is A Grotesque Animal three times in a row but it’s still one of the most downright enjoyable shows I’ve been to this year.

(Photo: crazybobbles (Flickr))

THE DEARS (London Rough Trade East, 15/10/08)

The last time I saw the Dears, the dodgy-as-fuck acoustics at the Koko resulted in a perforated eardrum, meaning for two years I subconsciously associated the moody Canadians with relentless, tear-inducing pain. Thankfully this in-store was a far more pleasant experience, assuaging my fears about the bands direction after the underwhelming Gang of Losers. Harkening back to the lusher, more extravagant songwriting featured on No Cities Left, the tracks previewed from Missiles sounded much more promising than early reviews suggested, performed with impressive proficiency and energy from the new incarnation of the band (including two members of the Sunset Rubdown-affiliated Pony Up!) Shame they didn’t play “22: The Death Of All Romance,” which was tantalisingly scrawled on the setlist but they’ll definitely be worth checking out for a proper set the next time they’re over.

(Photo: John Gleeson)

OF MONTREAL (London Rough Trade East, 13/10/08)

Acoustic Of Montreal? Now I’ve seen everything. Kevin Barnes’ technicolour pomp was stripped down to the core for this free set in support of new LP Skeletal Lamping, and despite the band looking slightly lost without the crazy electro-pop synths and fancy costumes, they did a pretty fine job. The arrangements sometimes consisted of Kevin solo, but more often involved the rest of the gang, who took a less ostentatious approach to the songs than usual. The novelty factor could have carried the show on its own, but the truth was that the fragmented, schizophrenic nature of the latest songs actually flow together better in an acoustic setting. They even threw in a whimsically down-tempo rendition of “Heidmalsgate as a Promethian Curse”, which caused the keyboardist to burst into giggles as we swayed along to the slowed-down synth line. No substitute for a proper, full-on OM extravaganza of course, but good craic all the same.

(Photo: John Gleeson)

CONCRETE AND GLASS (Various Shoreditch/Hoxton locations, 03/10/08)

A Shoreditch take on the Camden Crawl, Concrete and Glass showcased both a prime selection of international indie talent and the innate inability of anyone east of Farringdon to run an event on time. At the tiny Strongroom, Anni Rossi was a minor revelation- she looks like Amy Milian, has the vocals of a gentrified Jenny Lewis, the intricate solo string arrangements of Owen Pallett and the eccentric style (and occasional inaccessibility) of Joanna Newsom. Although the loop-pedal thing has been done to death, she’s got an idiosyncratic edge that distinguishes her from similar artists and despite her songs being too avant-garde on occasion to be easily digested on first listen, she came up with an Ace of Base cover which for me instantly equates to AUTOMATIC WIN. The unhinged, magical Liz Green was even better; though she was ill-served by her scrappy and underprepared backing band, it did little to diminish her astonishing, bewitching vocals that seemed to emerge from some far-gone decade. Wildbirds and Peacedrums were their typically amazing selves, ultimately triumphing in a battle against bad sound and a bad audience (mostly there for Lykke Li) and James Yuill provided a fun counterpart to the ethereal folk with his whimsical electronica and tongue-and-cheek mash-ups. Shame that the shifting timetables precluded checking out other bands on the line-up (had to skip Port O’ Brien and David Thomas Broughton) but on the whole it was an impressive start to what will hopefully become an annual East End institution.

(Photo: Carmymac (Flickr))

O’DEATH (Hoxton Bar and Kitchen, 02/10/08)

Fifth time round, and O’Death’s explosion of down-and-dirty bluegrass still hasn’t got old. Indeed, this showcased the hyperactive Brooklyners at their yee-hawing, barnstomping best, delivering over an hour of frantic hoedowns, screeched vocals and the violin playing of a man possessed. Supports Bodies of Water were an intriguing proposition, reminding me of an avant-garde Cloud Cult and even if their set didn’t always capture my attention, they still shone more brightly than an off-form Frightened Rabbit, going through the motions.

(Photo: Anika :) (Flickr))

ISLANDS (London Dingwalls, 01/10/08)

Islands’ last gig in London was not an overwhelming success. Nick Thornburn wasn’t in the best of moods, their insistence on playing only new songs from an unreleased (and more notably, unleaked) album didn’t lend to an electric atmosphere and not even the bouncy energy of their violinists could save them. But all is forgiven, for this was what their Hoxton show should have been. The difference in Nick’s demeanour was startling; cheerful, chatty and not adverse to throwing himself into the audience (in contrast to the standoffish attitude he showed last time). Rather than throwing loads of tunes nobody knew, the band delivered a perfectly balanced mix of material (although they perhaps despatched Swans too early in the set) and only muggy sound let the side down, neutering their more intricate songs under a fug of bass. But who cares, ‘cos they finished with Rough Gem and it made me really, really happy. YAY!

(Photo: Namestage (Flickr))

GET WELL SOON (London Luminaire, 28/09/08)

My Life Story, The Divine Comedy, Jens Lekman. If the mere mention of these acts make you shudder instinctively, I’d avoid Get Well Soon like the plague. But for those with a taste for extravagantly layered balladry, complete with deliciously over-the-top arrangements, arch lyrics and a general disregard for subtlety I think Konstantin Gropper may have something for you. Personally, I love the German band’s debut release “Rest Now Weary Head, You Will...” and their seven-song retinue does a damn commendable job of trying to recreate it live. Indeed, the only song that really suffers in transition is the Beirut-meets-The Killers-meets- The Go! Team craziness of “If This Hat Is Missing I Have Gone Hunting,” whose creepy child-like chants don’t quite work in a live setting. Konstantin’s an engaging, witty frontman, offering some “quality German beer” from his own stash to an audience member he espies drinking Stella, and although the band are proficient rather than astonishing they add enough character to stop this being merely a straightforward run-through the album. Nice cover of Born Slippy too, giving the old rave classic a slight orchestral sheen. Overall, a really impressive debut London performance for this band- they should be a force to be reckoned with in years to come.

(Photo: Garkusm (Flickr))

THE SPINTO BAND (London Borderline, 25/09/08)

After SSLYBY’s bland performance failed to leave any impression on my consciousness whatsoever, I was worried that The Spinto Band, fellow travellers in the upbeat-indie-pop genre would follow suit, especially with new album Moonwink receiving less-than-glowing reviews. Luckily, the amiable Delawarians put on a far more endearing, if decidedly rough-edged performance. A shaky first couple of songs didn’t bode well, and the vocals never really rose above the level of ‘enthusiastic squawking’ but the new material was performed with admirable gusto, kazoos featured somewhere in the equation and three years on, Oh Mandy remains a fucking glorious slice of shimmering pop that they’ll probably, alas, never top. Nonetheless: nice, and nicely done.

(Photo: Sonny Malhotra (Flickr))

FUJIYA & MIYAGI (London Bush Hall, 24/09/08)

Fujiya & Miyagi have a Japanese name, sound distinctly Parisien but actually hail from Brighton. Coming across like a Krautrock version of Daft Punk (with a touch of LCD Soundsystem) they eschew synth-led exuberance in favour of mesmerising, considered basslines, hushed understated vocals and a certain British sardonicness (you won’t find the political depth James Murphy is capable of here.) It’s a formula that should work live. It doesn’t. Bush Hall isn’t the best venue for this sort of thing; the sound isn’t loud enough, the relatively cultured environs don’t encourage the throwing of crazy shapes and it seems to attract the worst kind of blathering idiots who seem to think they’re in some god-forsaken Hoxton drinking hole rather than a gig venue. But the band are also to fault- they’re very static performers, and although the Lego-based projections are a cute touch there needs to be a more prominent visual side to hold one’s attention, especially as the newer tracks don’t do anything to progress the established F&M formula leading to a sense of déjà vu after a while. Not nearly as enjoyable as it should have been; let’s hope they’re more engaging supporting Jamie Lidell in December.

(Photo: Lonely Mushroom (Flickr))

BROKEN RECORDS (London Luminaire, 23/09/08)

The UK’s most promising up-and-coming band at London’s premiere gig spot? Sounds like a match made in heaven. In the event, it wasn’t quite. I’ve never seen Edinburgh’s finest do a disappointing show yet, but their long tour was obviously starting to take their toll at this point and this show at my favourite venue in London failed to achieve the sheer “WOW” factor of their Latitude and 229 shows. Still, even an off-form Broken Records are better than most bands touring at the moment, and the unveiling of a new song (complete with Sigur Ros style e-bowing) along with a track they’ve only played in London once before pretty much made up for the slightly-less-energetic-than-normal renditions of A Good Reason and Lies. The guys from the band told me that they’ll be recording the debut LP later this year for an early-2009 release; if it’s turns out as good as their EP’s have hinted it might be, we may finally have a British rival to “Funeral”. That’d be something special to behold.

(Photo: John Gleeson)

SHEARWATER (London Bush Hall, 17/09/08)

Sometimes a show comes out of nowhere and lays a total sucker punch to the senses. In a month chock full of typical “End of the Road” fare, alt-country Americana as far as the eye can see, this seemed one of the more minor dates on the gig calendar. Turns out it was one of the best. A blistering opening volley from indie-rockers Constantines set the tone for the evening - as much as I was unimpressed by the stolid MOR of new album Kensington Heights, their live show seemed to harken back to the punky, angular ferocity of their younger days. Synchronised stomping, stonking great basslines and flailing guitarists were the order of the day, and although perhaps they lacked the character of what was to follow, there’s no doubting their passion and vitality- a truly impressive showing from a band I was expecting to disappoint.

Prior to this show, I’d never heard a note by Shearwater - it was Jonathan Meiburg’s erstwhile involvement in Okkervil River, plus a healthy lashing of critical acclaim, that inspired me to give them a try. Having begun life as a side-project, I always assumed they’d be a variation on the OR template, perhaps taking a more subtle approach than its parent band. But in fact, it’s a very different beast indeed, far more beguiling and complex with a sound more akin to ethereal Danish experimentalists Efterklang. Meiburg's vocal performance is certainly more impressive than the tuneless bark of his former bandmate Will Sheff's, his voice imbued with a rich, if occasionally arch timbre that recalls Anthony Hegarty and Owen Pallett (who he bears a more than a passing physical resemblance to). The variety of instrumentation on offer would put Arcade Fire to shame- mighty golden-locked drummer THOR performed on a range of intriguingly organic constructions and the sheer scope of their sound, ranging from spectral balladry to eardrum-bruising wig outs means that things rarely get dull. True, there’s a couple of moments that are meandering and insubstantial, but that can easily be forgiven from a band with such unusual ambition. Ending the show with an unamplified acoustic song amongst the audience was a final delight, a beautifully spontaneous moment inspired by the air of wonderment they had so engagingly weaved.

(Photo: John Gleeson)

THE MOUNTAIN GOATS (University of London Union, 15/09/08)


















Full review HERE

(Photo: Red_One (Flickr))