MÚM (London Tabernacle, 13/07/09)



So maybe it lacked the sheer spine-tingling joyousness of their 22-person extravaganza at the Scala in 2007, but Múm’s glitchy experimental pop still hasn’t lost its power to warm the heart and bring a smile to the face of the most ardent cynic. Having expanded the core band to seven allows an even greater array of instrumentation to be employed and the new vocalist seems to be finally settling in, ably taking the place of her predecessor who left to marry screamy-vocals guy out of Animal Collective. The set was very much focused on the new album, some of which came across as a little insubstantial but “If I Were A Fish” and “Sing Along” are utterly charming additions to their oeuvre, and although their formula has been refined and perhaps even bettered by fellow Scandinavians Efterklang they’re still a band that are a constant pleasure to watch. Perfect venue for them too- I heartily endorse the Tabernacle, even if it’s a little swanky for the likes of me. Quality setting for a quality show.

(Photo: J_Ymmit (Flickr))

FENECH-SOLER (London Cargo, 10/07/09)



NO.

(Photo: nerdyframes leader 1 (Flickr))

ST. VINCENT (London Institute Of Contemporary Arts, 08/07/09)



Review HERE

(Photo: kafka_on_the_shore (Flickr))

BLUR (London Hyde Park, 03/07/09)



I can’t admit to have ever been a fully-fledged fanboy of Damon Albarn’s Oasis-baiting Britpoppers (I was always more a Pulp man, myself) but having partly soundtracked my childhood I felt that Blur’s reunion shows weren’t something I wanted to miss. So, it was a bit of a shame that I left Hyde Park in a state of mild disappointment- particularly because none of the fault lies with the band themselves. True, Damon Albarn bellows rather than sings nowadays but you couldn’t hear him anyway over the even more overwhelming discordance of a myriad boozed-up 30 years old wrongly singing the lyrics to “Country House”. Graham Coxon’s guitar-work is still top notch, but when being buffeted by the backpack-wearing, bottle-chucking members of the Hyde Park Fucktard Committee it was a little hard to appreciate it.

Still, the show was party to a few exquisite moments: the grand old singalong coda to “Tender” was even better than the “Hey Jude” one at Coachella, “Girls and Boys,” “Parklife” and “Song 2” were always going to be fun, and closer “The Universal” was unexpectedly moving. But thanks to the crappy audience (and the dodgy sound to the left of the stage) it wasn’t quite the epoch-defining event I'd been anticipating. Ah well- you win some, you lose some.

As for the impressive roster of support acts: Deerhoof were typically fantastic and although they seemed to perplex many, I reckon they made a few converts too; the hotly-tipped Florence And The Machine, clad in what seemed to be her grandmother’s duvet cover, has an impressive voice but lacks the songs to match. Best of the bunch were Amadou and Mariam, whose blissful Malian jams were the perfect tonic for a scorchingly hot Summer’s evening- a brief nod to Michael Jackson‘s “Beat It” was a particularly sweet tribute to the late King of Pop, but the anaemic and frankly embarrassing Vampire Weekend seemed to drag for eternity, delivered with the soul and passion of an Enron board meeting.

(Photo: Anjali Knebworth (Flickr))

DEERHOOF (London Scala, 01/07/09)



Similar to this previously-reviewed show but dare I say it, even better. Fearing furnace-like temperatures in the midst of an uncharacteristic London heatwave, The Scala was in fact a haven of air-conditioned bliss and provided the perfect setting for this beautifully frantic display of star-jumps, songs about pandas, jerky funk basslines, eccentric time-signatures and the maximally awesome drum skillz of Greg Saunier.

(Photo: J Ymmit (Flickr))

PORTUGAL THE MAN (London Madame Jojo’s, 30/06/09)



Why the hell aren’t this band better known? With proggy psychedelic jams in vogue at the moment with Sleepy Sun riding high on the waves of blog-hype, you’d expect the punters to be flocking to the Portland-based band’s first ever London show but alas, it was not to be. But half-empty venue aside, Portugal The Man were a seriously impressive live proposition- they do nothing new, but they do it with such energy and technical skill that questions of originality are moot. The unashamedly histrionic vocals, soul-influenced melodies and a sense they’re genuinely enjoying themselves differentiates them from their more serious and self-indulgent peers (*cough*Black Mountain*cough*) and despite a tendency to fall into the trap of over-extending a jam beyond its natural limits there’s few bands I’ve seen this year than match them for sheer consistency. Highly recommended.

(Photo: Kevin Klocker (Flickr))

HARD ROCK CALLING (London Hyde Park, 27/06/09)



When you think “Hard Rock,” you don’t necessarily think “Alessi’s Ark” but there you go. Personally, I thought the young singer-songwriter put on a very charming performance- she’s quite a character, with a very distinctive voice and mannerisms not a whole away from Cat Power and Joanna Newsom. True, her current material doesn’t always match up with her promise, but there‘s some strong songs in there, most notably Glendora. Her band’s also improved since the last time I saw her, providing more subtle backing than her disappointing show at the Camden Barfly a few months back although like that show, her talents are sadly wasted on an audience who are too busy chatting loudly to their mates to listen to the music.

The rest of the day lacked much to commend it. Fleet Foxes were solid, but I’m finding myself getting increasingly bored with them- their new material did little to dissuade me that they’re one-trick ponies with little to distinguish them bar group harmonies delivered ad infinitum. The other acts on the Bandstand were…how shall we put this diplomatically…”forgettable,” and Neil Young, though undoubtedly supremely talented and cooler at the age of 500 than I’ll ever be really isn’t more sort of thing at all. Still, big thanks for Alessi for sorting us out for a ticket- much appreciated :-)

(Photo: Dave Cross (Flickr))

YNDI HALDA (London Union Chapel, 20/06/09)



Well, what a way to spend a Saturday afternoon! Must admit Snowbird and Paul Marshall weren’t something I‘d go out of my way to see again, but Yndi Halda must rank as one of my musical discoveries of the year. Luscious, eardrum-shattering post-rock par excellence, they’re the kind of thing Hope of the States used to excel at before they were coerced into radio-friendly pop-rock. Epic without being pretentious, voluminous without discarding subtlety and employing multi-layered chimes with breathtaking effect, they’re definitely a band I want to check out again in the near future.

(Photo: SamuelYUI (Flickr))

PATTI SMITH (London Royal Festival Hall, 18/06/09)



Any performance by legendary maverick Patti Smith is going to be an idiosyncratic experience, but this was even more surreal than I could have possibly expected. The truly astounding sight of jovial RHCP bassist Flea playing slap bass next to the bemused and imperious Efrim from Canadian post-rockers A Silver Mt. Zion was so fucking weird I think my brain actually stopped working at that point. Patti Smith’s divisive vocal qualities actually didn’t bother me at all, mostly because she mostly stuck to spoken word pieces put to music, declaiming wildly like some mad hippy preacher and her incredibly eclectic group of backing musicians provided fittingly atmospheric augmentation to her passionate readings. And I’ve not even mentioned the random troupe of Moroccan musicians, whose mesmerising, repetitive drones, punctuated with squarking clarinet from Ms. Smith herself seemed to sum up the evening as a whole- pretentious, unpredictable yet somehow never less than completely engaging. An experience and a half.

(Photo: John Gleeson)

SHONEN KNIFE (Brixton Windmill, 17/06/09)



BARNACLE! BARNACLE! THIS IS A SONG ABOUT BARNACLE! Shonen Knife’s lyrical prowess may be open to debate, but their ability to provide charmingly simple, day-glo J-rock with tremendous energy and some snazzy costumes is beyond debate. Excellent support too from the always-entertaining Screaming Tea Party.

(Photo: acb (Flickr))

DAN DEACON (University of London Union, 05/06/09)



Oddly enough, the soulless student-union environs of ULU have now hosted the two most fun gigs I’ve ever been to, which just goes to show- appearances can be deceiving. In truth, it wasn’t all that dissimilar to the sublime San Francisco show I wrote about here, but with the added ‘wow’ factor of experiencing a London audience that actually threw themselves whole-heartedly into the general insanity. The human gauntlet managed to get round at least one corner of ULU’s perimeter (probably would have gone even further if it wasn‘t raining) and this time round, they aced Snookered which of course made me transcendentally happy. The show ended with mass crowd-surfing from the 14-piece ensemble (valuable lesson: Deacon is a very, very heavy man) and a general sense of elation normally experienced whilst under the influence of illegal chemicals. Show of the year? Oh yes.

(Photo: CapitoDenueve (Flickr))

PLANTS AND ANIMALS (London Luminaire, 03/06/09)



Quality Canadian bands have been almost ten-a-penny the last few years (penance, perhaps, for the Satanic double-whammy of Bryan Adams and Celine Dion), and Montreal’s Plants and Animals are yet another worthy addition to the crammed pantheon. Their intricate orchestration, catchy choruses and eclectic range of influences are a treat on record, garnering a much-deserved Polaris nomination and for the most part they deliver live too, albeit in a different way to what fans may expect.

The first thing that you notice is that the elaborate arrangements of the album have been stripped down to their barest bones- the strings of Arcade Fire’s Sarah Neufeld are gone, and all remains is guitar, bass and drums. Naturally, this results in a rawer sound than the album, with songs like “Good Friend” imbued with a jagged, intense quality not always apparent in their recorded incarnations. They’re also more vibrant than one would necessarily expect, having a certain edge at odds with the fey image cultivated by many of their Canuck peers. Nonetheless, one shouldn’t overstate the differences between Parc Avenue and the live show- they play it safe with the song structures, meaning that songs are perfectly recognisable even if the arrangements aren’t.

The band seemed particularly keen to try out plenty of new material, which for the most part showed promise and a degree of progression from Parc Avenue, although it wouldn’t be surprising if the final versions of these songs bore little similarity to those presented here. These tracks were well received by the audience, although the atmosphere really picked up for the better-known songs, especially “Fairie Dance” with its extended singalong coda. Still, there’s a few issues that stop them being quite as compelling as they could be. The vocals have a tendency to archness that occasionally grates, and their lyrics don’t always match up to their more accomplished compositional work, over-relying on the repetition of trite phrases that can get annoying. Like so many ambitious bands of their ilk, they also fall into the trap of elongating their songs beyond their natural bounds, dragging a melody to breaking point where brevity would be far more effective. But ultimately they succeed in retaining the vast majority of the album’s appeal, even if they lack the means to fully recreate it, proving once and for all that simplicity isn’t always a bad thing.

(Photo: Anika)

PRIMAVERA SOUND FESTIVAL (Parc del Forum, Barcelona, 26/05/09-31/05/09)



Being far too lazy to construct a proper write up, here’s a hastily-written summary I copy-and-pasted from UKK. Moi? Effort? Don’t be silly.

Set ratings:

10/10
Ponytail (Missed the end of MBV for this, totally worth it. Absolute triumph of a set, possibly the best I’ve seen this year)

9/10
Michael Nyman (went on a complete whim, he was superb! 11-piece orchestra, high-tempo compositions…perfect fit for the Auditori)
Andrew Bird (the man’s a genius, what can I say?)
Dan Deacon (audience participation fell embarrassingly flat due to the language barrier, but the moshing at the front was UTTER. FUCKING. INSANITY)
The Mae Shi (missing a guitarist, scrappy as ever but the atmosphere was amazing- plus the whole band ended up crowdsurfing during the last song)
Oneida (I had a headache before I saw them, I didn’t when they’d finished. There’s genuinely no logical explanation for this.)

8/10
Lightning Bolt (THEY PLAYED ON THE STAGE! WHAT IN THE NAME OF FUCK??????? Still, one hell of a show.)
My Bloody Valentine (think I’ve had my fill of them now, and their outdoor performance was a bit underwhelming but watching/feeling the whole Auditori shake during You Made Me Realise was epic)
Zu (Math-rock/metal/free-jazz genre-smash; more baritone sax for your buck than any other band this weekend)
The Jesus Lizard (David Yow sure loves to crowd-surf)
Flow (The only act I caught at the MySpace tent, but they were really good- think a Mexican Bishop Allen fronted by Colin Meloy.)
Plants And Animals (Fantastic Sunday evening set surrounded by palm trees)
The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart (only caught 4 songs before MBV, but they sounded great)



7/10
Sleepy Sun (Black Mountain but better)
The New Year (slow but LOUD. Would like to see them again in a more alert state)
Damien Jurado (surprisingly enjoyable for an acoustic guitar type)
The Drones (Quality Ozzie rock, shame I was too hyper about Dan Deacon to see much of their set.)
Sonic Youth (too tired to really appreciate, but I quite liked ‘em)
The Bad Plus (Jazzy covers band. Exceptionally talented and their take on Lithium was fun, but 15-minute meandering solos got old pretty quick.)
Stanley Brinks (Like regular Herman Dune, but with a female vocalist. Has only two melodies, but somehow manages to hold the attention)
Black Lips (3am, last night of the festival- just what you need really. Nothing epoch-defining, but good fun.)

6/10
Neil Young (neither engaged or offended me, although the mix sounded fucking atrocious from the back)
Dalek (raucous hip-hop act, did an ace collaboration with Zu on their last song)
Lemonade (like Animal Collective-meets-Gang Gang Dance-meets-Ratatat, without being nearly as good as that sounds)
Spiritualized (fell flat in an outdoor, daytime setting)
Kimya Dawson (like injecting pure twee into your veins)
Magnolia Electric Co. (pleasant enough fare for a early-evening set)

5/10
Bat For Lashes (third time round, and she still comes across as a fourth-rate Bjork wannabe. Clearly very talented, but oddly uncharismatic.)
Yo La Tengo (Look, if you’re going to start your set with a interminable 20-minute jam, I’m going to walk off.)
The Horrors (They’re alright, I suppose although Faris Rotter’s still a douche of Kilroy-Silkian proportions)
Maika Makovski (a local act, I think. She was quite hot.)
David Gedge (some guy from some ancient band called “The Wedding Present” playing stuff on an acoustic guitar in the back of a trendy clothing shop.)

4/10
Marnie Stern (disappointment of the weekend. Sound was *abysmal*)
Women (Still unimpressed by them live, although the sound problems didn’t help their cause)
Crystal Stilts (Competent but dull)
Bowerbirds (BORING-birds more like. The musical equivalent of chintz wallpaper)
Aphex Twin (not in the mood for it at all)
The Right Ons (bland support band fodder, very MOR)

3/10
Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti (gets one extra mark for the almost tolerable Yeasayer-esque song they were playing as I left)

2/10
Magik Markers (They played the same song twice in a fucking row. And it was SHIT.)
WAVVES (http://pitchfork.com/news/35459-wavves-self-destruct-in-barcelona)

(Photos: scannerfm_flickr; Emma Liensa (Flickr))

DM STITH (London Hoxton Hall, 20/05/09)



Now, here’s a young man with a bright future ahead of him. David Stith may, as the Guardian astutely put it bear an alarming resemblance to the main human protagonist of “Ratatouille”, but he‘s also the most promising singer-songwriter I‘ve seen since Justin “Bon Iver” Vernon. His vocals are one part Jeff Buckley, one part Anthony Hegarty; his melodies haunting and evocative. Skeletal guitar is overlaid with strings and delicate harmonies, a battered old piano is illuminated by a shimmering disco-ball as he unleashes an ethereal ballad. He’s still a bit nervy, and a few mistakes are made but they’re easy to forgive- it’s clear this is a performer with rare and genuine potential, even if he‘d do well to bulk up his set a bit. AND to top it all off, he has Marla Hansen in his backing band. Approval: given.

(Photo: Griffinshot (Flickr))

METRIC (London Electric Ballroom, 19/05/09)



I always forget what a vivacious frontwoman Emily Haines is. Light-years away from her delicate “Anthems For A Seventeen Year Old Girl” persona, she’s a whirlwind of unstoppable energy who often succeeds in disguising the weakness of her recent material by sheer force of personality alone. A very entertaining evening, despite the lack of “Poster Of A Girl”- I’d forgotten what a tune “Dead Disco” was.

(Photo: Anika)

ALL TOMORROW’S PARTIES: CURATED BY THE BREEDERS (Butlins Minehead, 15/05/09-17/05/09)



Review: HERE

(Photo: Ukpeewee (Flickr))

CURSIVE (London Dingwalls, 12/05/09)



Review: HERE

(Photo: Anika)

ANDREW BIRD (London Shepherd’s Bush Empire, 11/05/09)



Ah, the inestimable Mr. Bird: we meet again. I’ve seen the Chicago virtuoso what seems to be a thousand times now, but I’m still staggered by the sheer scale of his talents. The glorious new arrangement of Dark Matter set the pace for a show that saw the multi-instrumentalist tone down his more indulgent loop-fests in exchange for a more melodic approach to his songs. Of the new material, “Masterswarm” particularly stands out, but there’s not a single song performed that was less than impressive to behold- and the whistling solos are just as accomplished as ever. One of the few genuine geniuses of the indie scene, you owe it to yourself to check Andrew Bird out- you won’t be disappointed.

(Photo: Anika)

ALL TOMORROW’S PARTIES: VERSUS THE FANS PART II (Butlins Minehead, 08/05/09 - 10/05/09)



Perhaps Grouper wasn't the best choice to start proceedings. True, Liz Harris had to be on a plane that very evening, but her uncompromisingly sombre ambient noise was too mellow and esoteric for a Friday afternoon slot, as evidenced by the rapid audience shrinkage throughout her set. Casiotone For The Painfully Alone's Owen Ashworth fared a little better, although his melancholy lo-fi indietronica was little augmented by a backing band that too often came across as an afterthought. Very heavy on new material, the lack of old favourites like "Jeane, If You're Ever In Portland" was disappointing although when he hits the spot, he's as quietly charming as ever.

Thank the Lord for Jeffrey Lewis to get things back on track. His monotonal drawl may bear little relation to the melody at hand, but that's all part of his ramshackle charm- more important are his sharp, self-depreciating wit and his hilarious, deftly surreal cartoons. More polished but less engaging were M83, whose hazy synth-pop seemed a little lost in the Butlins food-court. The new raved-up coda to We Own The Sky was a nice touch, but their reduced line-up made them more reliant on backing tracks, detaching them further from their audience and leaving even their most euphoric tracks uncharacteristically hollow.

But then- BAM! From the darkness of the Centre stage, a hero- nay, messiah- for our times emerges. Long of hair, earnest of speech, he preached a message of deep philosophical import; an ethos for all men to live by- to be happy, to have fun and most of all, to PARTY HARD! Yes, I witnessed the oddly charismatic legend that is Andrew WK, the musical equivalent of a Jason Statham film- objectively awful and yet at the same time, totally awesome. “Bad Brilliance,” a man with a balloon for a head came on stage and repeatedly rapped his own name, some guy from Current 93 made a cameo appearance and despite the set consisting primarily of AWK karaoke-singing over various permutations of “Party Hard,” I couldn’t help but be carried away by his sheer enthusiasm. Let’s just hope he never decides to start a cult…



Fittingly, he was followed by fellow madmen Devo who despite looking like a bunch of crazy bachelor uncles clad in their boilersuits and trademark flowerpot hats were perhaps the tightest band of the whole weekend, their jagged grooves much heavier than the uninitiated would expect. They've had 36 years to hone their showmanship and it shows- they know how to work an audience, and what's more, they still genuinely come across as a band that love what they do. All in all, a fantastic set- a sentiment that, alas, cannot be levied at Pink Mountaintops. As great as their grandiose new album is, the dodgy mix at Reds rendered any subtlety imperceptible and within fifteen minutes the sledgehammer sound had me retreating back to the bar. Ah well- you win some, you lose some.

Now Saturday, *that* was a textbook example of how to curate a festival. Low side-project Retribution Gospel Choir provided the scintillating rock 'n roll start Friday so sorely lacked, despite some tedious scrote heckling “throw us your guitar” at Alan Spearhawk. Perennial underachievers live, The Acorn seemed to have finally found their feet- with a new line-up and tighter sound, they do well to counter general hipster indifference ("could I have a little more audience in the monitor?") with their luscious balladry and Rolf Klausener's soaring vocals. But even they couldn't hold a candle to the sublime Grizzly Bear. Fleet Foxes comparisons are to avoid, as both bands furrow similar harmonic veins, but whilst Robin Pecknold’s harmonies are clean, well-scrubbed and immediate, Ed Droste's have a more wistful, delicate quality that's ultimately much more gratifying. Balancing the new (and rather superb) Veckatimest material well with old favourites like 'Knife' and 'Lullaby', their mesmerising hour-long set seems to be over in a blink of an eye, a testament to their understated genius.

They even overshadowed Pavillion headliners Beirut, whose strong set nonetheless seemed to be lacking a little something (not least the violinist I used to have a bit of a crush on). Without a doubt, it’s amazing to see how far Zach Condon’s evolved as a live performer over the last couple of years- no longer does he stand there like a deer in the headlights, and his Morrissey-esque croon, whilst still a tad wavery at times has gone from strength to strength. Alas, the same can’t really be said for his song-writing, which peaked at Gulag Orkestar and has rarely achieved the same brilliance since. Whilst the Balkan swing of "Elephant Gun" and the like still have the old magic, the newer tracks blend into one and it's hard not to crack a smile when someone responds to Zach's call for requests with, "something that sounds a little different!"

And on the subject of "something a little different", cult noise-rockers The Jesus Lizard's first show in a decade certainly lived up to the fevered expectations surrounding them. As a statement of intent, ripping off your shirt during the intro to the first song and taking a running jump into the audience is pretty hard to beat and David Yow, a balding, slightly sinister middle-aged guy resembling The Yellow Bastard from Sin City had no intention of letting the pace slacken from there on in. On stage, he paced around menacingly, barking ferociously down his mike, but more often than not he could be seen swimming aloft on a sea of hands whilst his ever-proficient band nonchalantly watched on. What a comeback.



Alas, Sunday seemed a little anti-climatic in comparison. Shearwater seemed unsuited to Pavillion stage, Jon Meiburg's hauntingly powerful falsetto and their intricate orchestration dissipating in the sterile surroundings. !!! delivered an energetic, funk-fulled set, but were wasted in their early-evening time slot- they’re a band best experienced in a state of mild-to-excessive inebriation, and even the feckless alcoholics of ATP hadn’t reached that stage so early in the day. The ubiquitous Parts & Labor, spotted anywhere and everywhere throughout the weekend seemed knackered by the time it came to their own performance, which suffered from a chronic lack of volume and almost inaudible synths. When they’re on form, they’re a breathtaking live experience (they nearly eclipsed the mighty Battles when they supported them in ’07) but they seemed to squander this vital opportunity to win over a larger audience with a competent, but rarely genuinely impressive set.

Spiritualized’s performance really seemed to divide people- some found it deathly dull and meandering but their mix of the ear-obliterating fuzz of My Bloody Valentine combined with the gospel-tinged euphoria of Screamadelica-era Primal Scream ticked all my boxes. Static to a fault, they’re not the most visually arresting band and their interaction with the audience is non-existent, but in this case there was no harm in letting the music do all the talking, with an extended “Come Together” being my musical highlight of the whole festival. School of Seven Bells were rockier than expected, tweaking their arrangements for a punchier vibe whilst retaining the dreamy shoegazey production of Alpinisms, but after a while I felt the need for something a little more…energetic, a desire well-served by LA electro-punks The Mae Shi. Previously shambolic to a fault, the mentalist four-piece have finally tightened up enough to deliver a proficient set, but without losing the sense of scrappiness that lies at the heart of their appeal. "Run To Your Grave" may have been the single best singalong of the weekend, and although the new noisecore-orientated material lacks the spark of old, they still know how to rouse a mosh-pit. Indeed, the Mae Shi could be a metaphor for ATP as a whole- schizophrenic, surreal, a little poncey but nevertheless a hell of a lot of fun.

(Photos: Ukpeewee (Flickr))

BISHOP ALLEN (London Barden’s Boudoir, 07/05/09)



Despite my refusal to acknowledge Dalston as a real place (a state of affairs that’s not changed though I’ve actually been there), I’m not going deny that it can still harbour some pretty good gigs. The two supports were certainly nothing to write home about, but Bishop Allen more than made up for that with their superior brand of twee-pop. Although they’ve just had a new album out, they drew much of their set from their formidable back catalogue and happily most of my favourite tracks from the wonderful “The Broken String” got an airing. Highlight for me was the ridiculously lovely “Butterfly Nets,” the plaintive female vocals and ukulele/glockenspiel arrangements bringing joy even to this cold embittered soul, but the whole set pulsed with a charm matched by very few other bands this year. Wonderful.

(Photo: Anika)

AU REVOIR SIMONE (London Bush Hall, 06/05/09)



There’s something instantly likeable about Au Revoir Simone, quite apart from the fact they’re all quite stunningly attractive. This often helps to mask that the American synth-pop trio are far too willing to indulge in mid-tempo filler, when their strong point is their more inventive, prog-influenced material. It’s a shame, because when they hit the mark they’re very good indeed but overall, this is mostly an opportunity missed.

(Photo: Anika)