Sunday, September 27, 2015

BEIRUT (London St-John-at-Hackney Church, 25/09/15)



Arch-practitioner of maudlin brass-tinged folk Zach Condon may have once indirectly referred to me as a "bum", but after watching this "Greatest Hits" set I'm very much willing to let that slide. I mean, seriously, opening with "Scenic World"->"Elephant Gun"? What more could one ask for?
THE REFLEKTOR TAPES- The Arcade Fire Documentary



Review: HERE
AURORA (London Hoxton Bar and Kitchen, 18/09/15)



Review: HERE
BO NINGEN (London Cafe Oto, 17/09/15)



OK, "The Night of The Stickmen" wasn't actually a Bo Ningen show per-se, but it did involve the long-haired Japanese psych-wizards in various improvisational guises, combining forces with various guest musicians to provide an experience more avant-garde than their normal gigs, although just as loud and uncompromising. Shame about the lack of air-con at Cafe Oto though *faints*
JAMBINAI (London Rich Mix, 16/09/15)



Whilst Japan has long produced bands that have received critical, if not quite commercial acclaim over in the UK, the Korean music scene has remained decidedly low-profile in comparison. Jambinai may be the act to change all that. Whilst the structure of their music owes a lot to Mono, Sigur Ros and to a lesser extent Sonic Youth and Boredoms, Jambinai introduce traditional Korean folk instrumentation to the mix, adding a hauntingly beautiful, richly atmospheric edge to what could have been just A.N.Other post-rock band. An act that has the potential to become something very, very special.
TONY ALLEN (London Royal Festival Hall, 13/09/15)



Although the Nigerian Afrobeat pioneer is the main-billed artist tonight, this turned out to be more of a full-on collaboration between some of Africa's greatest musical luminaries, including kora masters Toumani and Sidike Diabate, Francophone rapper Oxmo and Senegalese baritone Baaba Maal. Inevitably Damon Albarn also makes an appearance, but he thankfully he didn't bugger things up too much. Perhaps it wasn't as much of a dance party as I was hoping for (at least until the last quarter, where the audience are finally coerced into standing up) but damn, watching Toumani and Sidike in full flow whilst Tony Allen and his band provided the afro-funk was a very special experience for all concerned.
FINAL SYMPHONY II (London Barbican, 12/09/15)



Maybe it's a sign of me being fundamentally wrong as a human being, but I got considerably more emotional at this glorious celebration of Nobuo Uematsu's music than at Sufjan Stevens the previous week. The first Final Symphony was an excellent, if at times uneven night of music, but this was an absolute triumph from start to finish. The highlights in bullet point form:

 - Virtuoso Ukrainian pianist Slava Sidorenko's utterly magnificent performance during the FFIX Piano Concerto. From the off-kilter plinky-plonkiness of "Vivi's Theme" to the manic, key-hammering finale of "The Final Battle", he perfectly captured the magic of one of Uematsu's most underrated soundtracks.

- When the London Symphony Orchestra's string section broke into FFVIII's "Ami" with the richest vibrato imaginable and I was almost paralysed with goosebumps.

-  The FFV Symphony. Little did I know when I was downloading shoddily-translated ROMs on a dial-up connection in1999 that I would I one day hear the FFV Battle Theme performed by one of the greatest orchestras in the world. Like many, I thought the reliance on Lenna's Theme (not Uematsu's strongest leitmotif) was a very rare misstep by the arrangers, but the constant teases of "Ahead On Our Way" ultimately culminating in a full run-through made me so happy.

- Clash de Chocobo. A truly inspired mash-up of two of the series' most beloved melodies, performed with gusto and humour by the LSO.

In summary: a magnificent night of music by any measure, and one that proves once and for all, that the much-derided medium of video game music can stand its own against the very best of them.
THE DELINES (London St Pancras Old Church, 11/09/15)



St Pancras Old Church was a truly lovely setting for the Portlanders' downtempo country-soul, even if it turns out their music really isn't my bag.
a.P.a.t.T (London Brixton Windmill, 09/09/15)


In the dark and distant mists of time (2008), I went to a Casiotone For The Painfully Alone show at the dearly departed Luminaire in Kilburn (yes, an gig in West London! The Noughties were truly a more decadent age.) The headliners themselves were every bit as delightful as you'd expect from a indietronic tweecore act, but what's stuck in my mind over the years is the weirdness of the support acts. The first was Harry Merry, with his uniquely Dutch "Circus Of the Damned-meets-Yewtree" vibe, whilst the second were a Livepudlian collective all clad in white, who veered madcap through every musical genre under the sun. That band was a.P.a.t.T, and I'm glad to report that seven years on, they're still as endearingly batshit as ever.
FFS (London Forum, 08/09/15)



Once again, Franz Ferdinand and Sparks prove that collaborations certainly DO work. They even brought joy to the Kentish Town Forum, which is a miracle far greater than anything Jesus accomplished.
SUFJAN STEVENS (Brighton Dome, 04/09/15)



Sufjan Sad Jams: Part 2. Much the same as the London show, minus pipe organ but plus "Casimir Pulaski Day".
THE POLYPHONIC SPREE (London Electric Ballroom, 03/09/15)



Texas' foremost pseudo-cultish music ensemble may be diminished from their mid-Noughties heyday (only fifteen members rather than thirty), but their rushed demo-turned-unexpected indie hit "The Beginning Stages Of..." remains one of the most uplifting collections of songs released in my lifetime, and it was an absolute joy to see it performed in its entirety. The second half, drawing on newer material, suffered from moments of self-indulgence (Tim DeLaughter sometimes doesn't know where to end a song) but nonetheless, for sheer happiness induced, this may well have been my show of the year.
SUFJAN STEVENS (London Royal Festival Hall, 02/09/15)



When I went to Copenhagen to see Mr Stevens for the first time, I described it as "one of the most riveting, over-the-top, luscious live performances I've ever seen." Needless to say, that was on the "Age of Adz" tour, which was a bit of an outlier as Sufjan albums go. This time around, as he promotes an album about the recent death of his estranged mother, things are naturally significantly more subdued. It was certainly a stunningly beautiful performance, with some of the most impressive lighting I've seen at a gig, yet....for some reason it didn't really connect with me. In fact, my highlight was the long noisey done, featuring pipe organ courtesy of Nico Muhly, at the tail-end of "Blue Bucket Of Gold" mostly because it was so at odds with the rest of the set. An excellent show by any benchmark, but alas, not the all-time classic others have declared it to be.
TV ON THE RADIO (London Roundhouse, 30/08/15)



It's easy to forget how many fucking great songs TV On The Radio have put out over the years, and tonight Tunde Adebimpe delivered them with such taut, blistering energy that it made up for the fact the last two albums have been lacklustre by their standards. Also, the sound mix was actually better than "dogshit" (the traditional level for a TVOTR show) so you could actually hear Kyp's vocals for once. A winner all round.
DEERHOOF (London Tufnell Park Dome, 25/08/15)



After 21 years, Deerhoof still sound like no-one else. Some would argue that's a good thing, but in my opinion their quirky jazz/noise/rock weirdness is more exhilarating than 99% of bands out there, even when tempered with Greg's interminable attempts at banter.
GREEN MAN FESTIVAL (Glanusk Park, 20/08/15-23/08/15)


























I led a Dan Deacon dance-off in front of several thousand people. I experienced Natalie Prass' brave but fruitless defense against Powys' impressive wasp population. I saw Calexico bring their dusty, Mariachi-infused Americana to a wet, soggy field in the middle of Wales. I witnessed 91-year old Marshall Allen from Sun Ra ignore set curfews and continue playing until the power was cut. I was made pregnant by Charles Bradley as the sun disappeared behind the mountains. I had my socks charmed off by effervescent Norwegian popster Aurora. I felt my breath taken away by the genius of Son Lux. I flitted between the stark drama of St Vincent in her pomp and the lush, looped strings of Owen Pallett. And most of all, I got very, very wet. Green Man, you're alright.