YANN TIERSEN (London Scala, 29/04/07)

The Yann Tiersen show yesterday was the most bizarre gig I think I've ever been to. I arrived at the Scala at 8.45, having been imbibing drinks at the Big Chill with some friends, assuming that even at that late hour we'd find a half-decent vantage point. We were wrong. Because you can't access the floor of the auditorium without descending from the cramped balcony, it's impossible to get through once people are already perched there so we were stuck right by the exit, unable to see a bloody thing So, we thought "bugger this for a lark", and retreated to the balcony bar where at least we could hear the music in relative comfort. Problem was, because it was so high up you could only see the band through the fellow patrons legs so Jennywren scouted out another bar, which although chock-a-block with loud Gallic people at least provided a decent view of the proceedings on stage. It may have not been ideal, but it was a laugh all the same. As for Yann himself, he was very, very good- far better than I was expecting. His balladry was too drippy for my liking, but the intense post-rock elements combined with some manic violin playing were fantastic. He even managed to fit in an accordion track at one stage, although the highlight for me was the novel rendition of 'La Valse d'Amelie," with its xylophone intro seguing into a heavy rock epic. Don't think anyone was expecting that! Next time, I'll have to mosey on down a bit earlier so I can see the damn thing...

PETER AND THE WOLF (HOXTON BAR AND KITCHEN, 25/04/07)

Welcome to the strange and unsettling land of Hoxton, where the girls are pretty, the jeans are skinny and the hair is absurdly coiffeured. Betwixt the chain-smoking fashionistas and crack-peddling rastas lies the oh-so-trendy Hoxton Square Bar and Grill, a grim concrete edifice adorned with leather sofas, paintings of alarmingly sinister clowns and a stifling atmosphere of hipster superiority. But in the midst of all this suffocating “coolness” lies a gem of a venue, where some of indie’s more exciting acts may be found before they hit the big time; Emmy The Great has graced it with her presence, I’m From Barcelona had their first UK show there (and how I regret not going to that!) and it’s where I checked out up-and-coming Liverpudlian three-piece Peter and the Wolf last night. Unashamed to deliver instantly loveable pop classics infused with a infectious Merseybeat vibe, the band’s unusual line-up of guitarist, double bassist and a vivacious barefoot percussionist gives them a quaintly bohemian edge that allows them to deftly avoid the pitfalls of MOR drudgery. In contrast to the wussy emasculated vocals so in vogue at the moment, frontman Mark Sunderland actually seems to have some passion in his voice, backed to great effect by the charming harmonies of quirky drummer Donna Dosanjh. This in itself would make them a band to recommend, but the real draw is the energy of their live shows- these bouncily joyous affairs make it clear they genuinely love performing and glancing at the faces (and crazed dancing actions) of my fellow patrons, it’s clear their enthusiasm is infectious. Like Camera Obscura, they don’t do anything desperately new, but their songwriting is so accomplished that it honestly doesn’t matter. One of the most talented new bands I’ve seen this year, Peter and the Wolf have the crossover appeal to enter the public consciousness; methinks they won’t be playing in venues as small as the Hoxton B&G for very much longer…

CSS (London Astoria, 22/04/07)

Despite their questionable musical credentials, Brazilian disco-punks CSS (Cansei de Ser Sexy) put on a fun, if unspectacular performance on Sunday. Their whole show hinges on the sheer charisma of unfeasibly attractive frontwoman Lovefoxx and most of the time she’s able to carry it off, covering the cracks in a band with perhaps more sass than actual talent. The crowd was certainly up for it though, with what seemed to be half the audience attempting to crowd-surf at least once and naturally things went completely mental during “Lets Make Love And Listen From Death From Above.” Tilly and the Wall were disappointing as supports, although not through lack of effort on their part- they just suffered from the appalling sound mix the Astoria seems to inflict on all its opening acts. Hipper-than-thou electro duo Ratatat were marvellous though, despite their heavy reliance on backing tracks- at their best they were like a fusion between Explosions in the Sky and 65daysofstatic, which I don’t need to tell you is a pretty sweet proposition. The next week or so is looking pretty good for gigs too- bohemian popsters Peter and the Wolf, “Amelie” composer Yann Tiersen and best of all, the one and only Cat Power. Life is sweet!

TWISTED FOLK FESTIVAL w/ THE EARLIES (London Arts Depot, 21/04/07)

So I sauntered down to the Twisted Folk Festival in Finchley yesterday, not because I'm particularly into folk or antyhing but because the Most Underrated Band In Britain (TM) were laying down their hypnotic, fully orchestrated grooves there. And unsurprisingly, the wonderful Earlies pulled out yet another blissfully top-notch show, enthused with all the mesmerising energy I've come to expect from them. I do worry that some of the jams at the end of their more proggy numbers go on too long for their own good, but Morning Wonder and a transcendent One Of Us Is Dead were worth the price of admission alone. Brilliant, brilliant band! Kudos to the crazy lanky dancey guy who made the show even more enjoyable, too!

The other acts at the fest were pretty great as well- nothing that encouraged me to throw out my indie CD's and become a dirty long-haired hippie but entertaining nonetheless. Baby-faced John Smith may have a dull name, but his voice is anything but ordinary-he's got the growl of proper grizzled bluesman truly nailed, and Alele Diane reminded me of Cat Power without the fragility with her countrified balladry. Lucy and the Caterpillar was also interesting, coming across as Emmy The Great's long lost not-quite-so-great cousin; thought she was a bit too self-consciously quirky until it dawned on me that she was actually mental! Pleasant enough though.

CAMERA OBSCURA (London Koko, 18/04/07)


Glorious purveyors of melodic folk/pop tinged with melancholy, Camera Obscura are a band who could never be accused of pushing the envelope, but whose masterful songcraft makes questions of ‘originality’ a rather moot point. And after last night show’s at the Koko, I can say (for the most part) they’re as, if not more, delightful live than on record. In a set that was at worse merely pleasant and at best sublime, ‘Let’s Get Out Of The Country’ and‘Books Written For Girls’ both stood out as highlights, rendered with a carefree energy miles away from the subdued production of the albums. But the night belonged, perhaps unsurprisingly, to the divine ‘Lloyd, I’m Ready To Be Heartbroken’ which was more wonderful than I could have hoped for- I honestly think it’s one of the loveliest pop tunes ever written. The band were also more lively than I was expecting; Tracy-Anne Campbell has far more charm than anyone who looks like a frumpy 50’s housewife has any right to be; just like her band, her understated demeanour belies an unexpected energy that’s very endearing. Shame about the encore then; a wistful cover of ABBA’s “Super Trouper” was cute, but ‘Eighties Fan’ was utterly deadened by the incomprehensible absence of live violin. That’s pretty much like performing ‘Wake Up’ with recorded “woooooah’s;” the strings are an integral part of the song and without them the band was basically reduced to jangling tambourines over a backing track- certainly not what a song of that calibre deserves. A disappointingly sour note to end an otherwise excellent show.

Nice supports though - Nic Dawson Kelly was a more interesting specimen of the acoustic troubadour breed that one is normally accustomed to, his histrionic, flamboyant vocals striking a intriguing middle ground between Rufus Wainwright and Carey Mercer. And given that I’ve been listening to their stuff a lot recently, Au Revoir Simone were a very welcome surprise; they played a pretty solid set, best during its more exuberant moments although the Earlies-ish prog track that rounded things off was really damn good. One of them did look a lot like an ex of mine though which was slightly perturbing…

FEIST (Shepherd's Bush Empire, 17/04/07)

Despite the humidity of the venue, the preponderance of atmosphere-sucking corporate knobheads in the audience and my hayfever-induced lack of sleep, Feist at the Shepherd’s Bush Empire was without a doubt one of the best gigs of the year so far. After a very entertaining opening set from Mayor McCa, a tap-dancing, kazoo-tooting one-band band, the Broken Social Scene songstress started her show with a beautifully ethereal track with a Bjorkish vibe, all vocoders and xylophones and piano. It was a fine, slightly left-field introduction to the world of Leslie Feist, and indicated that this wouldn’t be the two hours of meandering acoustic rambling that too often typifies the average “solo act”. As one would expect after three years of touring “Let It Die,” the set was very heavy on new material and it was great to see that it lived up to her considerable talent; a varied mix of piano-led balladry, gospel-infused rock and charming acoustic folk all showcasing her wonderfully versatile vocal skills. But it was the moments she went full pelt, her voice echoing from the rafters when she was at the top of her game, as completely enchanting as any singer I’ve ever seen. The set was rounded off with a great rendition of Mushaboom that was only slightly marred by the lack of reaction from a miserable crowd (kudos to the girls who actually got up to dance)- it’ll be interesting to see if Camera Obscura can top her tonight.

MIDLAKE (Shepherd's Bush Empire, 11/04/07)



...were good. Nothing earth-shattering, but very pleasant all the same. The material from their debut (which I'm unfamiliar with) actually came across better than a lot of the Van Occupanther stuff- they cocked up my favourite track "Young Bride" with an out-of-time intro and insufficient energy to make the song really come alive, which saddened me no end. Still, apart from the uninspiring encore, there was no doubt they're a very talented bunch and the very positive audience response definitely reflected this. In fact, the band seemed positively overwhelmed by the adulation- 'twas a great atmosphere, especially for a London show. Perhaps not as great a show as I expected, but by no means a disappointment either.

NEXT ON THE LIST: Feist, Camera Obscura, Twisted Folk (with the Earlies, Adem et al.), CSS, Peter and the Wolf and Cat Power. Damn good month for live music... :-)

TROUBLES (London Water Rats, 30/3/07)

Support bands are an inevitability of the gig circuit; a chance for up-and-coming bands to gain some performing experience and for the audience to have something to listen to whilst the main act snorts lines off hookers or violate horses or whatever rock stars do before shows. More often than not, they’re no more than average mediocrities, at best getting you to nod your head and vaguely note to check out their MySpace. Then you’ve got the godawful support bands, whose songs get lost in a fuzz of terrible acoustics and ineptitude and force all those with a semblance of sense to retreat to the sanctuary of the bar and a stiff drink.

But recently, I’ve seen quite a few bands that fall into a third category; the ones that are actually rather good. In fact, since the start of this year I’ve seen several opening acts that have equalled or even surpassed the headliner I’ve come to see; stand up Make Good Your Escape, Lonely Dear and Peter and the Wolf. Friday’s gig at the London Water Rats was another case in point. It’s not as though Hope of the States splinter band ‘Troubles’ weren’t good. Their understated post-rock was often beautiful, and the final track was as good an instrumental as HOTS ever came up with; the problem was the lack of variation. On the other hand, openers Revere had a similar post-rock formula (albeit more of the rock-out, EITS variety) but they mixed in enough unusual elements spice things up a bit. With some Beirut horns, Coral-style bounciness and Matt Bellamy vocals, they added enough to the increasingly staid genre to make them sound fresh and interesting. More importantly, they put on a fucking superb performance- for an last-billed support band playing at the back of a pub to 40 people, they certainly know how to impress. Passionate, intense and professional, I’ve seen bands play in venues twenty times the size who weren’t half as good as these guys. Shame their recorded stuff is a bit bland, but as a live proposition I have to say that these folks are unmissable. Kudos also due to the other support, the female-fronted rockers Cheap Motel who perhaps performed with more zest than actual innovation, but whose great line in rock showmanship (and the ability to play their feminine wiles to the hilt) provided for a very energetic and enjoyable set.

I also saw I’m From Barcelona again on Tuesday; just as utterly, wonderfully, euphorically joyous as ULU, but unfortunately without the big fuck-off stage invasion at the end. Dragged Ollie with me, even though he knew nothing of them prior to the show he was left absolutely speechless at how brilliant they were. Not much I can add to what I said last time, but if you like bands the Flaming Lips, I cannot impress on you enough how much you need to see IMB. Less than a show than a full-scale party!

THE SUPER-MEGA-UBER-EPIC FOUR DAY ARCADE FIRE REVIEW!!!!

THE LONG VERSION

A question I’ve been asked far too often these last few weeks is, “why the hell did you see the same band four days in a row, you sad badge-wearing freak?” And that’s a more difficult question to answer than you’d think- at least whilst trying to sound like a rational human being. I mean, I go to a lot of shows (perhaps too many) but I’ve never felt any particular urge to see a band more than once on the same tour. Yet this group of weird Canadians with their funny clothes and freaky instruments not only compelled me to dole out for four consecutive shows, but made me actually regret not doling out for more.

The thing is though, the Arcade Fire are more than just a band. They’re an experience. Yes, they’ve got two classic albums behind them; yes, they’re all multi-talented instrumentalists but just as importantly they know the value of real showmanship- not the leering, testosterone-fuelled posturing of sub-Libertines ripoffs that inundate the music world, but an actual, well-thought-out act that’s as exciting and expressive as the music they play. Just picture the scene- you’ve got Richard on his knees, banging the hell out of that now-legendary yellow drum; Sarah and Marika jerking about like clockwork marionettes, bows flailing as they attack their strings in a staccato frenzy; Jeremy denting cymbals and massacring drum-skins; old grumpy-face Tim laying down the bass with consummate professionalism and Will hitting that glockenspiel like it’d personally insulted his mother. There’s Regine, flitting between drums and keyboards and accordions and hurdy-gurdys with an impish grin on her face and an effervescent spring in her step, and in the middle of it all stands Win Butler, the ringmaster of this glorious mayhem. He’s a quiet bloke, not often given to overdoing the banter, but there’s a sense of powerful determination there- a defiant ‘fuck you’ to the rebelling sinuses that by rights should have knocked him off the road long before Oslo. And this chaotic, manic, wonderful energy is all transferred to the audience, making grown men weep and inspiring people who should know better to jump and sing their fucking hearts out. At their best, they’re as uplifting as any band on the planet, one that leaves you on a high long after the last note has faded- and it’s this sense of lasting euphoria that makes seeing them night after night such an utter pleasure.

But enough of my pseudo-Paul-Morley bollockry; time to review some shows! First, let’s get the worst out of the way- Wednesday was by far the weakest night of the four. Marred by a viciously elbow-happy crowd, sub-par sound and a uncharacteristically subdued atmosphere, it was still better than the vast majority of live shows I’ve seen but there was definitely something missing. The band were obviously trying their best, and they certainly had their moments- ‘Cold Wind’ was a delightfully soothing oasis of calm, ‘Tunnels’ never disappoints and the increasingly rare ‘Laika’ was a real treat- but the spark simply wasn’t there. As Richard told us outside later, “it was a rather boring show for us.” It’s the only time I’ve seen them where I haven’t left the venue buzzing with euphoria, and I must admit I was having doubts about whether I’d bother going to all four days after all. Luckily, Thursday night’s performance, by dint of being the best show I’ve seen in my life, kinda made up for it.

Frankly, the whole experience was such a haze of unadulterated joy that I’m finding it difficult to remember specific moments of brilliance, but Crown of Love was a contender for the best individual performance of a song I’ve ever seen. It’s always been one of my favourite AF songs, but the sheer emotion the band pours into it live transforms it into a nigh-on religious experience. With the congregation of thousands singing along with a passion that’d put the Vatican to shame, the atmosphere was just astounding; I don’t think I’ve witnessed anything quite like it. And just as it swells up to its emotional zenith and you think “this literally can’t get any better,” the song and crowd alike explode in an eruption of baroque disco awesomeness; needless to say, ‘amazing’ doesn’t do it justice. Then there were songs like Black Mirror, ruined by the muddy acoustics the night before that finally had the opportunity to shine, and although they never quite nailed the horns at the end of Ocean of Noise, the segue into the mighty Rebellion was perfect. By the time they played a triumphant Wake Up, the mingled feelings of exhaustion, dehydration and indescribable elation had me literally wiping tears of joy from my eyes; the only time I’ve ever done that at a gig before was when I saw them play “In The Backseat” back in 2005. On that night, I thought I’d never been blessed to see a show that good again- Thursday’s performance happily proved me wrong. The only disappointment was the conspicuous absence of ‘Power Out,’ but hey, you can’t have everything.

Memorably, this was also the night of the first fruit flinging incident, where roadies from the ‘magic window’ at the side of the Academy would throw a variety of fresh produce at the fanboys congregating in the road below. Despite their valiant efforts to deter the ravaging hordes by pelting apples and bananas at them, they couldn’t hold the bastards off. Indeed, the mob below mistook this as a gesture of affection, and grabbed the fruit like manna from heaven. I personally got a bottle of Evian, which isn’t, under most definitions, a fruit per se, but was very welcome nonetheless. Our small troupe of Moths (Fiona, Jaylily, Jennywren, Cicero, Moonfullofstarz and bf) then wound up at the Dogstar, where we were graced by bangin’ R&B choons and overpriced London beer- the perfect environs for a group of indie fans such ourselves. :p Interesting fact- whilst walking back to the station, I got offered drugs on nine separate occasions. You gotta love the Brixton entrepreneurial spirit…

By Friday the sleep-to-Arcade Fire ratio meant that fatigue really started to kick in; thankfully, I was standing next to Louis who made up for my shameful lethargy with flying (or should that be pogoing?) colours. The specialite du jour was a cover of the Serge Gainsbourg penned Eurovision hit ‘Poupee de Cire’, an upbeat Gallic slice of camp that once again highlighted Regine’s natural star quality and affirmed her status as the heart and soul of the band. The Well And The Lighthouse again proved itself to be the ‘Haiti’ of Neon Bible by absolutely trouncing the overproduced recorded version, and although not doing enough with its fabulous call-and-response ending, Windowsill provided one of the evening’s more subtle pleasures. But the highlight of this fantastic set was undoubtedly the surprise substitution of Neon Bible for Power Out. Hardcore devotees of said title track may have been disappointed by its absence, but such a high-energy show deserved a suitably high-energy finale and it doesn’t much get better than Neighborhood #3. I was admittedly far too shattered to mosh by this stage but judging by the bruises on my arm, my fellow UKKers certainly weren’t…

Most significantly though, this was the most Mothtastic night of them all; there were at least fifteen of us there and we certainly made our presence felt. The Tim chants led by the board’s ‘hooligan tendency’ managed to elicit an embarrassed smile out of the notoriously stony-faced bassist, our impeccable vocal skills were documented for the ages by PABBY and Jules’ dancing skills would certainly give John Travolta a run for his money… There was also a unforgettable moment when, in a reprise of Thursday’s fruit dispensing incident, a fan was graced with an apple thrown by the band themselves; with a reaction akin to Jerry Falwell if he’d been casually chucked the Holy Grail, he fell to his knees and exclaimed, “I’M HOLDING A FUCKING ARCADE FIRE APPLE!!!! IT’S A MIRACLE!” After freaking out Win during his brief apperance at the magic window, our veritable army of Mothdom marched off to the Albert, where photos were taken, drinks were drunk, band members accosted and the Antichrist was defeated by the power of sheer cowardice (as Diaji can testify…) 'Twas a lot of fun!

Saturday gave me a welcome opportunity to recharge my batteries (‘sleeping is giving in,’ my arse) and that meant that for me the final show pipped Friday as the second-best night of the residency (though truth be told both were equally good). I won’t deny the absence of Crown of Love saddened me, but the band made up for it by putting on their most intense performance yet. Will seemed to pull out all the stops with his crazy antics, Win was unusually free with the banter and Wake Up seemed even more overwhelmingly joyous than ever. Things were brought to a close with an acoustic cover of the Clash’s ‘Guns of Brixton,’ which wasn’t quite as effective as at Porchester (to be fair, the venue was about ten times bigger) but was a nice little touch nonetheless. They didn’t play Headlights though, despite all the effort I put into my banner- what a bunch of bastards! :p My personal favourite moment of the evening though was seeing the reaction of some fans who’d been waiting two years for the opportunity to see the band; I think their screams of “that was the most fucking amazing thing I’ve ever seen!!!” suggested they may have enjoyed it. Being specifically offered a setlist at the end by a security guard because he was so impressed with my enthusiasm was pretty cool too! Then it was off to the Albert for one last drink with the UKK crew before buggering off back to boring reality, completely broke, completely shattered- and completely over-the-moon. So much good music over such a short space of time…how will anything ever compare?

But those four days were not just about the brilliant music; it was about the brilliant people I met and instilled with a pathological fear of portly men with badges. It’s heartening to see that Arcade Fire can attract fans from all walks of life, and we motley crew of Moths were a shining testament to that fact. So Fiona, Jaylily, Spidey, Don, Jules, Cicero, Dustonmytambourines, Jennywren, Diaji, FitzKreuner, Louis, James111, John Gleeson, <3Joujoux d’Antan<3, Eliz, Marfamac, Pulkpull, PABBY, Wintertime, Anwar, Amadeep, Facundogore, Aethan Romm, Moonfullofstarz, Neon78, Ellroy, Moon, Erol, Pilgrim S and I Are Scientist- it was great meeting you all! Arcade Fire are the best band in the world, with the best fans in the world. Fo' sure.

THE SHORT VERSION

It was really fuckin’ good. Oh yeah.

(Awesome photo courtesy of British Storm Petrel from UKK)

EAGLES OF DEATH METAL (London Astoria, 11/03/07)

Despite having contracted what seems to be the Plague from some unknown agency, I rather enjoyed Eagles of Death Metal at the Astoria tonight. A far more light-hearted outfit than Josh Homme’s other band (stoner rockers Queens of The Stone Age), they provide simple, no-frills, straightforward rock ‘n roll. Their material could certainly never be called ‘varied’, but there’s no denying these guys are masters at what they do- the band played loud and tight, and that’s all you need for a show like this. Homme’s tongue-in-cheek strutting and good ol’ boy charm added immensely to proceedings; although he sometimes overdid the banter, it was clear that he was having the time of his life up there and that enjoyment was conveyed very much to the audience. Because I wasn’t feeling too good, I stood at the back of the venue for once which means I felt a bit detached from proceedings, but their 90 minute set clipped along at a swift pace and I must admit I did feel a lot better afterwards. Respect to the healing powers of ROCK!

Oh, and they played a cover of “Stuck In The Middle With You,” which made me exceedingly happy. No-one's ear got cut off, which made me less so.

Went to two great gigs earlier this week; here are the inevitable reviews.

Los Campesinos! (London Spitz, 05/03/07)

Another day, another NME buzz band. But Los Campesinos! seem, for once, to be the real thing; a band that eschews the sub-Libertines claptrap that’s so in vogue at the moment and plays music that’s actually FUN to listen to. And so this gig at the Spitz was one I’d been really looking forward to- a test to see whether their unabashed sense of joy that infuses their songs came across in a live setting. Support came courtesy of another talked-about band, the Leeds three-piece Sky Larkin. The majority of their set consisted of guitar led tracks; above-average British indie fare to be sure, but nothing that really made them stand out amongst the milieu of similar UK bands. Their synth-led tracks on the other hand were a lot more intriguing; the lead singer seemed to grow in confidence, having the poise and energy of Emily ‘Metric’ Haines on happy pills. It was enough to make me want to check out their stuff in more detail, but it didn’t impress me nearly as much as Peter and the Wolf last week.

Luckily, the headliners more than lived up to their considerable promise. Fusing the hyper-active multi-instrumentation of Architecture of Helsinki, the lo-fi charm of the Research and the dynamic energy of the Arctic Monkeys, the bunch of hairy reprobate students and indie-chic ladyfolk that call themselves Los Campesinos! nonetheless have forged a sound that they can call their very own. Jangly glockenspiels, male/female call and response and post-rock-for-ADD-kids build-ups are the order of the day, and it’s a formula that works a treat. However, it’s also the source of the band’s one weakness- a lack of variety. Their reluctance to deviate from this blueprint means that too many of the songs run together and although they’re all a lot of fun, a bit of a change of pace once in a while would have made this a truly classic show. Saying that, any band that can produce a song as exhilaratingly joyous as “You! Me! Dancing!” (performed here with the members of Sky Larkin) could frankly fill the rest of their set with James Blunt covers and I’d still have come out happy. They’re still a bit rough round the edges and the overly-similar songs could stifle their potential, but with a bit of work I see no reason why Los Campesinos! won’t be HUGE when their album comes out later this year.

The Earlies (London Scala 06/03/07)

Last May, I decided to check out a band called the Earlies at York Fibbers. When I booked the tickets, I hadn’t heard a note by the half-Texan, half-Mancunian outfit but the radiant reviews of their live show were enough to tempt me to take the plunge. It’s something I’ve never regretted. Their debut, “These Were The Earlies,” is a glorious mix of 60’s West Coast harmonies, psychadelic prog and delightful orchestral flourishes which manages to combine a comforting familiarity with off-beat experimentalism- a kind of ‘Guillemots meets the Beach Boys’ vibes. And their live show is even better. With ten people on stage playing dozens of different instruments, they’re a sight to behold and the soothing ocean of sound that they produce have made them, in my opinion, one of the best live bands around.

Even though I hadn’t managed to listen to their darker second album, “The Enemy Chorus” before their headline show at the Scala, it proved no obstacle to enjoying the show- even though it was a whole eight songs before they played anything from the first album. The Earlies have always produced the kind of music one can really lose oneself in and the new material is no different; full of mesmerising grooves and lush harmonies that’s utterly blissful. The renditions of debut favourites ‘One Of Us Is Dead’ and ‘Wayward Song’ were both enhanced with some nice improvisational touches and the superb encore of ‘Morning Wonder’ was positively hypnotic. Perhaps some moments weren’t quite up to par with their recorded counterparts, but these were few and far between- I can think of only a handful bands who can maintain such a consistently high level of brilliance like these guys. As my friend Scott said, “I just can’t understand why crap like The View is hyped up so much, whilst great bands like the Earlies are ignored.” And on the evidence of Tuesday, it’s impossible to argue with him.

Oh, and one of the lead musicians (the guy who looks disconcertingly like Colonel Sanders) commended me on my badges. Go me!

Los Campesinos! - You! Me! Dancing!
The Earlies - 25 Easy Pieces

MY LATEST NOVEL (London Spitz, 28/02/07)

On paper, My Latest Novel should be one of my favourite live bands- a wonderful catalogue of work (infused with a luscious yet understated folkiness that makes them sound like the sober, Presbyterian younger brother of the Arcade Fire); talented musicians; big, glacial build-ups culminating in explosions of beautiful sound. And yet they’re not. There’s something missing from the equation, a certain spark that prevents them from reaching the heady heights they’re clearly capable of. It could partly have something to do with their dour Scottish demeanours; whilst perfectly pleasant, it’d be fair to say they aren’t the most charismatic bunch. A below-par sound mix doesn’t help matters either; the vocals were buried far too low on both occasions I’ve seen them. Also, there’s always that nagging feeling that the band aren’t performing to their full potential; there were too many moments where I thought “this could be amazing if they put a bit more ‘oomph’ into it”. The fantastic encore of Sister Sneaker Sister Soul just underlined the subdued nature of the rest of their set, displaying the verve and intensity that should, and could have been present throughout. It’s a shame, as they have the talent to be unmissable- as it stands, they’re merely good.
On the other hand, supports Peter and the Wolf were an absolute revelation. Consisting of a beardy guitar-and-piano-playin’ frontman, a instrument-twirling double bassist and a gleefully enthusiastic barefoot percussionist, they played with the infectious passion the headliners were so solely lacking. I’d never heard any of their material previously, but it’s fantastic- not a weak song in the set. Their sound isn’t particularly innovative, but it’s infused with the same instant timelessness that Camera Obscura do so well (although these guys are far more jolly than those wistfully melancholy Scots.) DEFINITELY an act to look out for in the future.

I’ve not had much of time to listen to music recently, having suddenly developed something approaching a life. Thus, this quiet Saturday afternoon was spent partaking in a number of albums I’ve wanted to listen to for a while- and because I’m the sort of utter bastard who feels the need to write his opinions on stuff down on the internet, here are my verdicts on them:

PETER, BJORN AND JOHN- Writer’s Block
The Swedish indie-dance heroes responsible for “Young Folks” prove that there’s more to them than melancholy whistling. A good part of “Writer’s Block” is your typical straightforward indie rock, but there’s quite a bit of variation; “Start To Melt” has a bit of a Brain Wilson vibe, “Amsterdam” sounds like laid-back Gary Numan and the twinkly mandolin-driven “Roll The Credits” is worthy of the Earlies’ best work for sheer bliss-outery. This isn’t the party album one might expect from their ubiquitous single- but it’s still a great little LP worthy of your time. 7.5/10

MODEST MOUSE-We Were Dead Before The Ships Even Sank
It’s alright, but I don’t like it nearly as much as the fantastic Good News For People Who Like Bad News (an album that was derided as ‘overly listenable’ on Atease, a comment which makes me hate hipsters with even more passion) There’s nothing that comes close to ‘Float On,’ ‘Black Cadillacs’ or “The Good Times Are Killing Me” and half of it sounds, depressingly for a skewed talent like Isaac Brock, like a jumped-up jam band. Still, it has its moments; the sea-shanty-tinged “March Into The Sea,” lead single “Dashboard” and the intense, wild-eyed mania of the latter half of ‘Fly Trapped In A Jar’ stand out amongst the first 10 songs, and the last five are all pretty good. But it isn’t certainly not the revelation that some have been making it out to be. 6/10

ANDREW BIRD- Armchair Apocrypha
Now, this is what I’m talking about! Rivalling the mighty ‘Neon Bible’ for my supreme affection, this sublime album by the uber-talented multi-instrumentalist is sure to rank very highly in my end-of-year charts. Lush arrangements, songwriting to die for, an intimidating whistling quotient…I’m just completely in love with this. Tracks 3-6 (“Heretics”, “Dark Matter”, “Plasticines” and “Armchairs”) are so uniformly brilliant that I can forgive the slight dip in quality towards the end. I’m really upset that I missed out on getting tickets for his Bush Hall gig now…9.5/10

FROG EYES- Tears Of The Valedictorian
Mmmmm. My Frog Eyes obsession early in 2006 was rather dampened by the discovery of their good mates Sunset Rubdown- they share a lot of the same musical aspects (not to mention members) but Spencer Krug’s mob seemed to have more substance to them. But although “TOTV” isn’t quite up there with SR’s truly magnificent “Shut Up I Am Dreaming” (by far the best album of last year) it has certainly reignited my love for this most peculiar of Canadian bands. Carey Mercer still yelps like Bowie with his nuts in a clamp, there’s still that dreamy, swirling mass of instrumentation that characterises the Frog Eyes sound but the melodic qualities are perhaps stronger than anything they’ve ever done before. “Bushels” in particular is an off-kilter masterpiece that tops “One In Six Children Flees In Boats” as my favourite FE song, and “Idle Songs” is as perfect a distillation of their…unique musical style as I’ve heard. Marvellous. 9/10

OF MONTREAL- Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer?
Kevin Barnes returns with his idiosyncratic brand of hyper electro disco and goddamn, if it ain’t half good! HFAYTD isn’t for people who don’t like dancey synth-led tracks, because even more so than their previous work, this is the album’s overwhelming sound. I thought they couldn’t top the illegally catchy “Wraith Pinned To The Mist,” but there’s a lot here that definitely gives that song a run for its money. But don’t get fooled by all the upbeat melodies- there’s a surprisingly dark undertone that runs through the lyrics and makes this a great deal more substantial than the excellent, but rather superficial pop of Of Montreal’s prior albums. There are some criticisms, though- “The Past is a Grotesque Animal” is a bit too much of an 80’s throwback, going on at least five minutes too long, and there are definitely moments where it struggles to keep the momentum up (especially towards the end). Nonetheless, I’m really rather impressed by this- can’t wait to check out their (reputedly awesome) live show this April. 8/10

PANDA BEAR- Person Pitch
The side-project of experimental noise-merchants Animal Collective, this release has been mightily anticipated by certain sections of the indie community (mainly the ones who spend more time mainlining hard drugs rather than listening to music). Well, that’s a bit unfair- I just have a general disdain for Animal Collective and those who try to pass them off as a great band (they’re not-they’ve got a couple of good songs but they’re insanely pretentious). But I must say, this is better than it has any right to be. It’s ain’t no adrenaline fuelled romp, that’s for sure- the tone is very gentle and dreamlike, comprised of echoing, mystic harmonies and subtle instrumentation. But whilst it might not be music to PUMP YOU UP, it’s excellent for chilling out to. Twelve minute odyssey “Bros” (unrelated to the Goss brothers, alas) adds a nice touch of 60’s jangle-pop to the mix; the drone of “Good Girl/Carrots” has a strangely irresistible hypnotic pull that kinda reminds me of the Stone Roses’ more psychedelic moments. With an album like this, there’s always a risk of things descending into a snoozefest (as it does on the penultimate track), but on the whole “Person Pitch” manages to remain a pleasant little treat that won’t change your world, but is no worse for it. 7/10

And here are some tracks for your delectation:

Andrew Bird- Heretics
Peter, Bjorn and John- Young Folks
Of Montreal- A Sentence of Sorts in Kongsviner (RECOMMENDED!)

THE DECEMBERISTS (Shepherd's Bush Empire, 8/2/07)

On Thursday, I went over to the Shepherd’s Bush Empire for an evening of sea-shanties, soldiers, murderous butchers and women of ill-repute…brought courtesy of Oregon-based indie sweethearts The Decemberists. I wasn't sure how well they would come across live, but lead singer Colin Meloy’s occasionally grating voice actually sounded better than on record, and he’s an unexpectedly confident and charming frontman whose love of theatricality this show from mere greatness to one that was truly wonderful.



The music is of course as fantastic as you’d expect; the Crane Wife 1 (one of the best songs of last year) was as lovely and emotional as one could hope for, their love of the macabre and insalubrious came across brilliantly in the Sweeny Todd-ish “The Shankill Butchers” and crowd-pleaser “O Valencia” got everyone singing along at the top of their voices. But it was the little ‘extras’ that made this gig special; the middle-of-the-set exercise session (”and up, and down, and up, and down, and jump around…”), the extended singalong during ’16 Military Wives’ where Colin conducted various parts of the audience in singing the refrain, the bit in ‘Sons and Daughters’ where the band invited crowd members on stage to sing with them.



During the encore, Colin brought on some special guests- The Soft Boys’ Robyn Hitchcock and the Waterboys’ Mike Scott. He has often mentioned them in interviews as two of his greatest influences and as such, he was quite visibly over-the-moon at the opportunity to perform with them. With Robyn he played “Madonna of the Wasps” and with Mike a brilliant “Fisherman’s Blues” complete with rock-out coda, before concluding the show with the gypsy ballad of A Cautionary Song, complete with various members of the band re-enacting the American War of Independence in the middle of audience. As you do. Although from my basic understanding of early US history, I don’t think meteorites really blew everyone up in the end…But hey, who cares about historical accuracy with a show as good as this? Not quite AF standard (but what is?) but definitely in the highest tier of gigs I've had the pleasure to see.

(Photo's mercilessly stolen from the interwebs and Fiona from UKK)

THE NEON BIBLE MEGA-REVIEW TO THE X-TREME



It was over two years ago when Canadian indie wunderkinds The Arcade Fire first burst onto the music scene with their modern masterpiece ‘Funeral’. Despite its morbid title, it was anything but depressing; a glorious celebration of life, an album of handclaps and harmonies, where angular, punky spikiness rubbed shoulders with unashamedly exuberant orchestral flourishes with the most magnificent results. Their long-awaited, much hyped sophomore album ‘Neon Bible’ is a very different beast. Yes, we still have Win Butler and Regine Chassigne’s unmistakable vocals; yes, we still have the delectable orchestration; yes, we still have the vibrancy and passion that is the hallmark of the Arcade Fire. But overall, its charms are more subtle; there are no barnstorming sing-your-heart-out anthems in the vein of ‘Wake Up’, nor anything quite as grandiosely sentimental as ‘Crown of Love’. What it does have is a consistency, a greater sense of thematic purpose that holds the album together and although the individual elements may not stand out like the best moments of its predecessor, taken as a whole it provides a more cohesive listening experience.

This shift in style is immediately apparent with album opener ‘Black Mirror,’ its ominous pianos and vaudeville violins a world away from the delicate, twinkly beauty of Tunnels. Repetitive yet atmospheric, it lacks immediacy but sets the darker, moodier tone of Neon Bible perfectly. UK single ‘Keep The Car Running’ is probably the LP’s most ‘commercial’ cut, a straight-down driving country-rock tune given the Arcade Fire twist; in this case, jangly mandolins and some delightfully unexpected "WOOOOH-OHHH’s." It’s not a patch on Rebellion (its closest equivalent on Funeral) but it’s a song that slowly and irresistibly burrows into one’s consciousness and refuses to budge. This is followed by the pleasant, genteel folk of the title track; a transitional piece that that won’t set your soul alight but provides a brilliant contrast with the massive pipe-organ chord that heralds the beginning of "Intervention". Initially backed with just an organ and acoustic guitar, this song swells into an immensely textured ballad which, yes, does owe something to Bruce Springsteen but stands well enough on its own merits not to be dismissed as a mere rip-off of ‘the Boss’. "Working for the church while your life falls apart, singing ‘Hallelujah’ with the fear in your heart," Win yells with religious fervour whilst the full force of the band’s instrumental section delivers a richness and passion that few other bands could possibly hope to match. The album’s first standout track, it is a perfect encapsulation of the anger and yet also hope that lies at the heart of ‘Neon Bible’.

‘Black Wave/Black Vibrations’ is a somewhat schizophrenic piece - one half is Regine accompanied by menacingly angular strings, the other is Win's heavy, brooding chant over a rumbling bass-"nothing lasts for ever, that's the way it's gotta be, there's a great black wave in the middle of the sea." Yet again, there’s a sense of fury that drives this song; a rally against societal greed in the lyrics "Stop now, before it’s too late, eating in the ghetto on a hundred-dollar plate…." It’s not a sentiment that admittedly isn’t particularly well developed, but it displays the sense of remonstration as well as celebration that distinguishes ‘Neon Bible’ from its forebear. Adding a bit of light to proceedings, the Caribbean-tinged "Ocean of Noise" is a laid back little number with a reggae-ish bassline that explodes into life with a truly luscious coda complete with vibraphone and mariachi brass. Continuing this more upbeat tendency, "The Well And The Lighthouse" is a fast paced Win and Regine duet pierced by shimmering violins and glockenspiels that at times sounds like a synthesis of ‘Tunnels’ and ‘Rebellion’. There are occasional moments where the spectre of over-production threatens to overwhelm it (especially during the first minute), but they manage to reign it in before the wonderful singalong finale. This is followed by the provocatively named "Antichrist Television Blues," the album's most exuberant moment; a perfect mixture of cheerful Americana and the aforementioned 'handclaps and harmonies' formula that the band most excels at. Underpinned by a strong (if slightly wordy) narrative, it displays a wit and intelligence that undoubtedly proves Win’s development as a lyricist. Add in some supremely joyous whoops at the 3.30 mark, and you’ve got yet another AF classic.

A slow-burning but very effective protest anthem, ‘Windowsill’ is the most noticeable departure from what many would see to be the band’s trademark style. This song sees the band moving from the broad themes of life and death espoused by the debut to more overtly political territory with lyrics such as "I don’t want to fight in the holy war…I don’t want to live in America no more." It’s certainly not one of the more immediate tracks on this album; the melody is quite basic and the orchestration (for at least the first half of the song) is more reserved than one would expect from the Arcade Fire. But what it lacks in bombast it makes up for in sincerity and maturity, and its low-key nature makes the eventual pay-off (complete with brass band and a beautiful call-and-response section) even more marvellous.

The penultimate track is a re-recording of EP favourite "No Cars Go," a decision that caused a many raised eyebrow amongst the indie fashionistas. Some cynically declared that it was proof they had run out of good material and had been forced to dust off something from their back-catalogue to fill up space. The reality is that rather than a sign of desperation, NCG stands as a testament to the evolution of the Arcade Fire, a band now able to fully realise the potential displayed so fiercely in the original EP. It isn’t radically different to the original; the most noticeable change is the infinitely better production quality. But there are enough wonderful new flourishes that make the revisit entirely worthwhile; the tremolo intro, the flutes, the delightful chants of "Let's Go!"…I could go on and on. The only slight misstep is the synth solo in the middle of the piece, but as that only lasts a matter of seconds it seems churlish to complain. The fact is this is one of the bands most sublime moments; the final two minutes in particular are without a doubt one of the most utterly glorious pieces of music you’ll ever hear. For those doubting they could ever match "Wake Up" - this is the song for you.

The lights are dimmed, the curtains drawn and ‘Neon Bible’ finally draws to a close with the soulful hymnal of "My Body Is A Cage." It’s here where it becomes most clear how much Win’s voice has improved since the recording of ‘Funeral’- his tendency to hoarseness has been one of the band’s few bugbears, but on MBIAC he really shines. His vocals still have a certain fragility, but it’s now a boon rather than a burden and lends the song a genuinely emotional edge. But it’s when that apocalyptic pipe organ kicks in, sending shivers down the spine of all but the most cold-hearted when this song truly comes into its own. A lost soul seeking redemption, Win’s impassioned pleas to "set [his] spirit free" prove to be almost spiritual in intensity; the abrupt ending only augments the sense of release, the relinquishing of ones demons, the final release from the cage of life into sought-after oblivion. It’s as perfect a closer for this album as one could ever conceive.

This won’t be an album for everyone. Anyone expecting Funeral Mk II should look elsewhere. Some will bemoan the lack of a true rock-out a la ‘Power Out’, and as much as that would have been nice, it wouldn’t have fit in the scope of the album. It’s clear that the band’s intention was to create a unified album rather than a collection of unrelated songs that just so happen to be thrown onto the same disc and as such, Neon Bible demands to be listened to as a whole for a full appreciation of its brilliance. It must be admitted however, that for all its strengths, there is nothing on Neon Bible (No Cars Go excepted) that comes close to packing the same emotional punch as the most brilliant moments of their debut. But then again, whilst Funeral was more of a mixed bag (‘7 Kettles’ and ‘Haiti’ never did much for me), this maintains a high level of quality from start to finish. In any case, it’s a tour de force of a album that should cement the Arcade Fire’s reputation as one of the defining bands of the decade; it’s surely only a matter of time before all will see: Salvation lies within the Neon Bible.

THE ARCADE FIRE (St. John's, Smith Square, 29/1/07)

It’s a bit of an understatement that I was excited about seeing the Arcade Fire yesterday. I have had the pleasure of seeing them twice before, and they are one of the most passionate, intense live bands you’ll ever see. Thus the chance to see them in an intimate setting such as St. John’s Church in Westminster was impossible to resist. Before the show, I had been chatting to a number of the fine people off the AF forums (AKA Us Kids Know) and also a film-maker from the BBC who is currently making a documentary about live music (he said that he didn’t go to as many gigs as I did, but he did have Pink Floyd and Lou Reed play personal shows for him, so I think he wins slightly there…) There were also a couple of famous faces near to where I was standing- I recognised Julian Barrett from the Mighty Boosh (he’s really tall), Adam Buxton from the Adam and Joe show and apparently Mark Berry from Garth Merenghi’s ‘Darkplace’ was with them as well. Oh, and Paul Morley was there- he was chatting to Win for a while after the show. But we weren’t there just to spot the B-list stars, oh no! We had more pressing matters for our attention....



First thing Win Butler said when he walks on stage is, “Hey, this is a rock concert, you better fucking stand up!” And thus this allegedly seated gig became nothing of the sort, to the satisfaction of all but the lame and useless. I thought that was pretty awesome. But what of the performance itself? Well, there’s no denying they were bit rusty- it’s only their third show (and the first official one) touring the new album. There were a few technical hitches (including a loudhailer that wouldn’t turn off), I don’t think they’ve quite got used to the expanded line-up (11 members now!) and they’re not as tight as they’ll surely be by the end of the tour- the live renditions of Black Mirror and Ocean of Noise both struck me as in need of a bit of tinkering, certainly. But it’s a testament to their talent that they were still fucking brilliant, and OoN was saved by its segue into the most awesomely bitching version of “Rebellion (Lies)” I ever did hear. In fact, it is to their credit that as well as fitting all but one song off the new album in their set, they managed to find room for half of Funeral (they weren't due to play Tunnels, but some guy kept on shouting out for it and they eventually gave in!) Win’s vocals have certainly got a lot stronger over the last couple of years; unlike before, he can sustain them for the whole set and his wife Regine was on amazing form. Her voice, known for being somewhat unpredictable live, was in fine fettle and her charming, vivacious personality came across brilliantly during the moments the set focused on her, Haiti and Black Wave especially. No Cars Go was my personal highlight with its transcendent climax, but the passionate Intervention and protest anthem Windowsill were also stunning. Unfortunately, they didn’t actually use the pipe organ for My Body Is A Cage, but Regine explained later that it would have been too difficult to pull off correctly. Real big shame that, but that’s how it goes. They concluded with a fantastic encore of “Antichrist Television Blues” (one of my favourite songs off Neon Bible) and moshtastic classic “Power Out”- a superb finale by any measure, but I can’t deny I was upset by the absence of “Wake Up,” one of my beloved songs in the world. ‘Ah well’, I despondently said to myself, ‘you can’t have everything’.



But wait! This is the Arcade Fire we’re talking about! They’re not the sort of band who’re willing to go quietly after a set. I suspected something was up when the band marched off the stage with their instruments (including a double bass, no less), paraded round the audience and walked out the front door of the venue. Then I saw some of the UKK bunch beckoning for us to get out there sharpish. And there they were, getting ready to play. So I clambered onto the sides of the steps leading down to the street and as the audience gathered on the steps of the church and the road below they launched into none other than an acoustic version of “Wake Up.” And Jesus Titty-Fucking Christ, I’ve been blessed to see some of the best live bands in existence over the last couple of years, but there is nothing, absolutely nothing that can touch that moment. It was beautiful, passionate, utterly joyous; the atmosphere was absolutely perfect, the captivated crowd singing their hearts out in the moonlight. I didn’t think anything could top “Wake Up” in Manchester as my favourite live performance of all-time, but I’m very glad to admit I was wrong.



Because the show was over and done with about 10pm, we felt it’d be nice for the UKKers to get together for a drink. So as we were waiting in the church to gather our forces, a gentleman came up and asked us if we wanted backstage passes. And for some bizarre reason, we decided to acquiesce to his offer. So we went downstairs into the bar, and hung around for an hour or so hobnobbing with the band. Now, I’m not the sort of person who really talks to musical folk (far too shy), but I actually engaged in conversation with Win (about the greatness of Antichrist Television Blues) and Jeremy (congratulating him for how quickly they’ve got to grips with the new stuff given it was only its third outing; he didn’t entirely agree!) I can’t tell you how surreal it was, chatting casually to the guys responsible for some of my favourite songs of all time. I also got a handshake from the legend that is Richard Reed Parry and a wave and a hello from Regine (who’s absolutely lovely) and Will. But most importantly, me and Graham from the forums ‘acquired’ a couple of ‘Neon Bible’ posters (from a church no less, we’re so going to hell) and got them signed by Win, Will, Richard and Tim! Shockingly, this is the one and only piece of signed music memorabilia to my name but I must say, what a doozy! It’s hanging on my wall as I speak, more beloved than my own family. Only problem was of course is that I have to be up at 6.30am, and getting to bed after 2am is not conducive to a productive day at work. Still, no denying it was TOTALLY worth it! Roll on March at the Brixton Academy!

(Photo's 'acquired' from Wonky (and others) at UKK)

GHOSTS (London Water Rats, 23/1/07)
I'M FROM BARCELONA (ULU, 24/1/07)
THE BOY LEAST LIKEY TO (London Scala, 25/1/07)



Having being slightly derailed by the leak of Neon Bible, here is my slightly belated review of my “Three Gigs In Three Days.” It’s not something I’d overly recommend unless the calibre of bands are really good because it’s bloody tiring! But hey, I had a lot of fun and that’s what matters I suppose. First off- Ghosts at the Water Rats pub in Kings Cross. Nice little venue actually; dark, dingy and with surprisingly solid acoustics. The band itself has been often touted in the music press as a contender to be the New ColdplayTM, so I was intrigued whether they’d live up to the hype. To be honest their EP is a bit wussy for my tastes but luckily, their live show is far more confident, and although nothing stands out as particularly innovative they do show a flair for writing catchy, hummable pop songs. Their influences are clear- you’ve got the art-rock bounce of Franz, the twinkly piano lines of Keane and the amiable MOR poppiness of the Feeling and it is a formula that could seriously see them hit the big time. Still, for me, supports ‘Make Good Your Escape’ were more impressive, combining the ambitious scope of Hope of the States with relentless, clinical drumming reminiscent of 65 Days of Static- all tied together with a ferocious energy impossible to resist. I’ve heard positive things about this band for ages, and having finally seen them I reckon they’ve definitely got the talent and originality to go far.

The next day saw me trekking to the infernal pits of the University of London to see a little band called I’m From Barcelona. Who’re they, you ask? Well, as one commentator accurately put it, they’re ‘the low-budget lovechild of the Flaming Lips and the Polyphonic Spree’- twenty nine mates from Stockholm (not Barcelona, the Trading-Standards-baiting bastards) who are in the business of purveying unadulterated joy to the masses. I knew they would be good, their anthem “We’re From Barcelona” was one of my favourite songs of last year- what I didn’t guess is that it would be one of the best shows I’ve ever been to. True, if you wanted to be critical, you could point out any number of flaws- the nursery rhyme lyrics (half of which are ‘NA-NA-NA’s’), the laughably childish sentiments, the complete lack of subtlety or variety in musical tone. But then you’d be a charlatan and a fool of the highest order, because with I’m From Barcelona, only one thing matters and that’s pure, out-and-out FUN. I mean, you’ve not lived until you hear two dozen crazy Scandinavians perform Madonna’s “Like A Prayer”, or sung along to the ‘bababa’s’ that underpin ‘Collection of Stamps’ until your voice is hoarse. As mentioned previously, the lyrics are rather simplistic, but this is actually an asset in a band like IMB; the fact is, whether you’ve heard the song before or not, you’ll know all the words by the end of the first minute. Add in crowd-surfing, kazoos, balloons, home made confetti, ukulele-chucking and the full-scale encouragement to dance, sing and jump about like fucking lunatics and you’ve got less of a gig than the HAPPIEST PARTY EVER. It’s all very silly and light-hearted, but to their credit, the set never once flagged in its irrepressible joie de vivre. Even the less exuberant moments were brilliant, especially ‘boyband ballad’ “Grizzly Bear”, an ironically upbeat tribute to Timothy Treadwell and a new song based round the plot of “The Life Aquatic”.



But it was the dance-party climax that totally sealed this gig’s legendary status. Once the band had played their last song, lead joymeister Emmanual declared to the assembled crowds that it was time to get down and dance. And with that, a rave remix of “We’re From Barcelona” blasted out of the speakers and the band invited the whole audience to join them on stage! Which, to the utter bemusement of security, was an offer that was swiftly taken up; I reckon there was well over a hundred of us on stage bopping about like retards before the end. It was just amazing- I had a grin on my face the whole way home back to Watford! On the evidence of tahat night, I’d like to propose that we replace the UN with I’m From Barcelona and usher the world into a new era of peace, joy and harmony. Because if anyone could do it, they could.

In a way, it’s a shame that I was to see The Boy Least Likely To the day afterwards, because there’s only such happy-clappiness a man can take. Still, I still had a great time, and their twinkly, gleeful songs tempered with bittersweet lyrics still draw a nostalgia for childhood like no-one else; I mean, they’ve got a paean to Magic Cola (that chemical-sweet 10p stuff you always got at summer fayres)! How cool is that! They perhaps slightly over-did the balloons, but then again it was fun throwing them at the band, who took it all with good humour. Also, getting their tour managers to dress up as the band mascots during “Be Gentle With Me,” (which remains one of the most thoroughly delightful songs in existence) was a very cute touch. However, what will remain with me most from this gig is the support act Lonely Dear, who are yet ANOTHER great band from Sweden (in fact, it just so happens that they’re good friends with I’m From Barcelona.) The last few weeks have led me to believe that Swedes have this natural ability to craft perfect pop tunes, and Lonely Dear marries this innate talent to beautiful, ethereal vocals sometimes reminiscent of Sigur Ros- the delicate harmonies of “Been A Loser” were particularly mesmerising. A band to keep an eye on, methinks.

So how can one top such an outstanding three days of music, this veritable triumvirate of terrificness? Oh wait- I’m seeing the Arcade Fire on Monday. SCORE!

(Photo's courtesy of UKK's Wonky)

For the last few years (perhaps as some sort of belated recompense for Bryan Adams) Canada’s been the place where indie’s been at, with such wonderful beat combos as The Arcade Fire, Wolf Parade, Frog Eyes, Final Fantasy, Sunset Rubdown, The Dears, Broken Social Scene, K-OS and The New Pornographers emerging from its pseudo-Gallic shores. But times are a-changin’. Canadia’s dominance of the alternative scene is slipping, as the mantle of musical greatness is wrested from it by a new contender. And no, it’s not the UK or the US of A. In fact, it’s someone really quite unexpected. Enter “Konungariket Sverige”, or as we call it in this part of the world, Sweden.

Home to Volvos, the Nobel Prize and devastatingly attractive blondes, this Scandinavian nation hasn’t really pulled its weight musically since ABBA thanked us for the music and buggered off back in the mid-80’s. But recently, we’ve seen a number of great bands emerge from the icy wastes; The Shout Out Louds, The Concretes, Peter Bjorn and John, I’m From Barcelona, just to name few. But perhaps their greatest ambassadors at the moment are the glacial brother-and-sister electro duo known as The Knife. Now, you might not have heard of them, but you’ll probably have heard of one of their songs. You know that Sony Bravia advert with the thousands of multi-coloured balls bouncing down a hill? (Query: why not multi-coloured cannonballs? With chavs at the bottom of the hill? Then they could’ve performed a public service as well as hyping their product…) Well, that particularly striking piece of advertising was accompanied by a delightful guitar piece sung by Jose Gonzalez, who despite his Hispanic name is yet another Swede. It's name was “Heartbeats”, it received a lot of attention from the music press, and Jose was propelled into the big time (and good for him, ‘cos it was pretty great.) But compared the synthtastic ebullience of the original, Jose’s acoustic rendition seems rather, well, dull. Drenched with dense keyboards, KORG solos and synth drums, the Knife’s version is the antithesis of Jose’s; an insidiously catchy synthesis of 80’s-style upbeat electro-pop and Karin Dreijer Andersson’s unmistakable icy vocals. It’s frankly stunning and undoubtedly one of the best songs I heard last year- the sole reason it wasn’t in my Top 30 list was because it was released in 2002. Otherwise it’d be duelling (possibly with muskets, swords are so last millennia) with ‘Trains For Brazil’ for the top spot.

Their latest LP ‘Silent Shout’ isn’t nearly as immediate as their earlier stuff; it’s a very clinical, often sinister musical journey with dischordant synths and relentless techno beats as cold and unforgiving as the Arctic winter. It’s definitely an acquired taste- Pitchfork awarded it Album of 2006 but it’s not an easy album to get into. But there’s been some mighty fine remixes- Ratatat’s take on “We Share Our Mother’s Health” made my Top 30 Songs of last year and with good reason. And although I don’t really thinking sharing my mother’s health is particularly appropriate or desirable, I will share a couple of MP3’s. Because I’m nice like that.

The Knife - Heartbeats

The Knife vs. Ratatat– We Share Our Mothers Health

LIAM FROST (London Spitz, 17/01/07)

To inaugurate a brand new year of obsessive gig-going, I went to see the fantastic Liam Frost and the Slowdown Family at a little place called the London Spitz. This trendy bar/restaurant/gig venue in the depths of New Spitalfields reminded me of the superb Night and Day Cafe in Manchester with its diverse range of alcoholic beverages (I partook in some German strawberry beer, I implore you not to do the same) and small, wonderfully intimate stage. However, the Spitz noticeably lacked the cute redhead sitting in front of me playing with her iMac who later transpired to be none other than Jenny Lewis (yes, of Rilo Kiley/Rabbit Fur Coat fame.) That admittedly was a bit of a shame, but luckily the quality of the music more than made up for that.

For those who haven’t heard of Mr. Frost, he’s a twenty-two year old singer-songwriter from Manchester whose “Mourners of St. Paul” (a tribute to his late father) was Planet Sound’s Top Single of 2006. I was initially put off by the fact he seemed to be lumped in with the masses of other twenty-something guys who play guitar ballads in an terribly over-earnest fashion (James Blunt, Jack Johnson, James Morrison), but after hearing the hype about that song I decided to check him out. And he was a real revelation; perhaps he won’t have the same appeal to middle class housewives as his peers, but his mix of rough-hewn folkiness and heart-stirring strings is infinitely more interesting than most of his ilk. So when I found out he was playing in London, I thought I’d grace his show with my rotund presence.

Well, first off, he wasn’t the pony-tailed, skinny jeaned hippy I always envisaged him as. Liam Frost is, like myself, an unabashed ‘man of volume’. Or for those feeling less kind, ‘a fat bastard’. In any case, I instantly felt a kinship with the guy- he seemed a lot more down to earth than most of the indie types I’ve encountered. My fears that the lush instrumentation of the album wouldn’t be able to be recreated in such a tiny venue were unfounded; backed by a string quartet, percussion and piano, this was certainly no dreary acoustic strum-a-thon. Frost’s cracked Mancunian vocals suits the melancholy material perfectly, adding a real rawness to the proceedings but it’s when his set hits its most uplifting moments where his singing really impresses. You wouldn’t expect it, but underneath the roughness is a genuinely strong voice and he employs it marvellously. True, some of the renditions were perhaps slightly more subdued than I would have liked (The City Is At A Standstill), but it’s a petty complaint. The fact is, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a more beautiful song than “The Mourner’s of St. Pauls,” which was somehow even more acutely moving live than on record. After the deluge of middle-of-the-road, suicide-inducing dullards like Blunt and Nutini, it’s heartening to see that there are still singer-songwriters out there with real emotion and soul. He also seems like a top bloke as well; lots of great banter with the audience and band and he even waited by the door to thank the punters after the show - a small touch, but one that was definitely appreciated. A fine way to kick off what will be undoubtedly a superb year of live music.

And just for you, here are a couple of tracks from the fantastic Mr. Frost. Enjoy!

Liam Frost- The Mourners Of St Paul's

Liam Frost- The City Is At A Standstill

THE TOP FIFTY (ONE) GIGS OF TWO THOUSAND AND SIX

In the long-forgotten mists of 2005, I came to the decision that I would try to see a band a month. And in that I succeeded. So in 2006, spurred on by the superb array of bands I’d seen the previous year, I thought to myself, ‘hey, let’s go a bit crazy; let’s go for three gigs a month.’ At that time, I thought I’d never do it. Needless to say, I had seen the requisite 36 shows by the end of July, and if it wasn’t for a two month spell of unemployment when I didn’t go to a single gig, I imagine the final total would have been much higher. All in all, I saw 127 separate performances from 115 different musical acts, spent well over a grand in gig tickets and 2% of the entire year in music venues around Britain. And you know what - I wouldn’t have swapped it for the world. It says a lot for the quality of live music around at the moment that even those bands languishing around in the mid-40’s still provided a great night’s entertainment, and despite the resultant poverty and perpetual lack of sleep I’m fucking glad I did it. But hey, enough of this rambling- without further ado, I present to you the List O’ Gigs (2006 Edition):

51. The Divine Comedy (Sheffield Leadmill, 21st May)

A disappointing performance from Mr. Neil Hannon, who showed none of the wit and spontaneity that made his 2004 tour so memorable. Some good new songs, but no National Express or Tonight We Fly? Bad Neil, sit in the corner!

50. The Automatic (York Fibbers, 27th February)
Rather run-of-the mill angular guitar rock stuff. Kudos to the bonkers synth guy though.

49. The Feeling (York Fibbers, 23rd February)
Good singles, fine Franz-style showmanship, but pretty middle of the road otherwise.

48. Mojave 3 (London Parkway Jazz Café, 7th November)
Slowcore favourites suffer due to Rachel Goswell’s absence, their energy sadly dissipating after a promising start. Though I must say, Truck Driving Man was ace.

47. The Fiery Furnaces (Leeds Cockpit, 8th May)
For a band that’s made a name for itself for being completely bonkers, a very straightforward no-frills rock set wasn’t exactly what I expected. Not bad, but not the offbeat show I was hoping for.

46. Jeremy Warmsley (York Fibbers, 10th April)
Offbeat Anglo-French singer-songwriter who has been called the male Regina Spektor- he has her originality, definitely, but unfortunately not her voice. Nice bit of audience participation at the end though.

45. Okkervil River (Leeds Cockpit, 3rd May)
Folky Americana group who are more raw and energetic than you’d expect live. For Real, in particular, came across much more powerfully than on record.

44. A Silver Mt. Zion (Leeds Brudenell Social Club, 2nd June)
Pretentious, overlong and cursed with a singer that sounds like a cat being brutally raped. But they had their moments- especially the acapella ending to God Bless Our Dead Marines which was as beautiful and poignant as Sigur Ros at their best.

43. The Bluetones (Shepherd’s Bush Empire, 30th November)
A pretty mediocre gig which improved dramatically just before the end. Old favourites Slight Return and Bluetonic erased the taste of the bland new songs that filled most of the set, but it was a truly anthemic rendition of “If” that saved the night for me. The sound of hundreds of people singing, screaming and otherwise vocalising “NAAAAA-NA-NA-NAAAA!” at the top of their voices just can’t be beat.

42. The Spinto Band (Leeds Cockpit, 24th January)
"Oh Mandy" is the best song they've got, but they're a most affable live band with a nice line in jangly cheery indie tunes and lest us not forget- free kazoos!

41. Emmy The Great (London Old Blue Last, 26th November)
The first headline gig for the quirky singer-songwriter responsible for the sublime ‘Secret Circus’. A very short set, punctuated by obvious nerves, but nonetheless her quite considerable talent shone through. We also got free cake of three, yes, THREE different varieties.

40. Tilly and the Wall (York Fibbers, 17th May)
Tap-dancing indie-boppers, with a good line in cheery, latino-tinged songwriting. A bit samey after a while, but fun all the same.

39. My Latest Novel (Leeds Cockpit, 20th March)
Beautiful orchestral pop from Scottish quintet, but perhaps a bit dour and distant live to really impress.

38. The Who (Leeds Harewood House, 25th June)
Wrinkly OAPs put on surprisingly enjoyable show; new songs dragged a little, but you can’t beat We Wont Be Fooled Again and the immense 25-minute Tommy medley. Though I couldn’t stop giggling when Pete Townsend played ‘The Kids are Alright’.

37. Hope Of The States (Leeds Cockpit, 28th March)
Perennial live favourites make welcome comeback, but unfortunately jettison most of the instrumentals for new rockier sound. Got the unsurpassable Red Stars, Black Stars in the encore though, so it all turned out OK.

36. Regina Spektor (Shepherd’s Bush Empire, 23rd August)
For some reason, Regina lacked the spark she had in Leeds; her voice was slightly wavery and the acoustics weren’t great. But there’s no denying the quality of her songs (especially ‘On The Radio’), and even if her vocals weren’t tip-top, they were still head-and-shoulders above almost any other singer I care to mention.

35. Metric (York Fibbers, 15th May)
Broken Social Scenes Emily Haines ditches ice queen persona for wild-eyed synth-pop goddess. Like the Cardigans or a female-fronted Killers, but with far more live energy than either. Makes you want to dance, baby!

34. The Research (York Fibbers, 19th January)
Ramshackle keyboard-pop meets Beach Boys harmonies for slightly repetitive but immensely likeable Wakefield trio.

33. Death Cab For Cutie (Leeds Refectory, 27th June)
Chock-full of scenesters and a horrible venue, but these emo stalwarts are worthier of their acclaim than most. Appreciated the beefed version of Different Names (my favourite DCFC song ) and the ending of Transatlanticism was pure, undiluted lighter-waving material.

32. Half Man Half Biscuit (Shepherd’s Bush Empire, 21st December)
John Peel’s second favourite band unleash their idiosyncratic brand of erudite, pop-culture-obsessed ditties on an adoring crowd, with such classics as “Fuckin’ Hell, It’s Fred Titmus,” “Joy Division Oven Gloves” and the sardonic genius of “24 Hour Party People” all making well-deserved appearances. The actual music has always paled to comparison to Nigel Blackwell’s legendary lyrics, but the band are solid players and keep things moving very nicely. Loved watching the bemused expressions of indie kids regarding the vigorous moshing of the 50-year-old contingent (HMHB have been around for a long time), and in fact this would have placed much higher if they’d found a place for “All I Want For Christmas Is A Dukla Prague Away Kit.” It was probably too obvious for them…

31. My Life Story (London Astoria, 8th December)
Brit-pop nearly-man Jake Shillingsworth brought his deliciously grandiose pop back to the Astoria after a decade’s absence, complete with a 13-piece backing band. Not a man to be held down by commonly held conceptions of ‘cool’, his songs are so unashamedly and infectiously over-the top that even someone who’s unfamiliar with the majority of their stuff (i.e. me) can’t help but be swept away with the sheer extravagance of it all.

30. Jim Noir (York Fibbers, 27th May)
Jaunty and very enjoyable 60s-style tunes from northern bloke in hat. Extra points for the completely impromptu cover of Lady Madonna, as well as a spontaneous funk jam at the end of their set.

29. Patrick Wolf (London Bloomsbury Theatre, 30th March)
Lanky multi-instrumentalist street urchin impresses with erudite balladry, but really excels when playing summery Motown pop and screaming away with Edward Larrikin.

28. The New Pornographers (Leeds Cockpit, 19th May)
Stayed too close to their recorded sound for my liking, but a very competent and comprehensive set from superlative power-poppers. Mates of States also impressed in support with their sugary-sweet but incredibly happy keyboard anthems.

27. Two Gallants (York Fibbers, 13th February)
Top-notch bluesy Americana from two howlin' screamin' bourbon-fuelled Yankees who play like their lives depended on it.

26. The Magic Numbers (Hammersmith Apollo, 18th November)
Everyone’s favourite men and women of volume peddle West Coast happy-clappiness with wildly varying results; oldies such as ‘Morning’s Eleven’ and ‘Love Me Like You’ are undoubtedly magnificent but the newer stuff is depressingly mediocre. Still, when they were good, they were very, very good and their enthusiasm carried off the stuff that wasn’t.

25. Calexico and Iron and Wine (Manchester Academy, 21st April)
Three straight hours of music combining the whispered, ethereal vocals of Iron and Wine and the country-infused Mariachi of Calexico, with appearances from a Mexican tenor with the most booming, rich voice I’ve ever heard. Definitely got my money’s worth out of this one.

24. 65 Days of Static (York Fibbers, 23rd May)
Crazy time signatures, electronic bleeps, grinding guitars and extremely complex drumming from Sheffieldian math-rock band. Very intense, very heavy, very good.

23. Calexico and Beirut (Camden Roundhouse, 5th November)
Calexico were just as good as in Manchester (plus they played the awesome El Guero Carelo) but the real stars of the show were supports Beirut and A Hack And A Hacksaw, who enchanted the Roundhouse with their joyous Balkan-infused sounds.

22. Final Fantasy (Manchester Circle Club, 13th May)
Solo violinist and part-time Arcade Fire member does crazy-sexy things with his fiddle, a loop pedal and nothing else. The fact that he managed to replicated the complex baroque stylings of his new album without a string quartet and harpsichord was amazing enough; the fact he IMPROVED on it was something special.

21. Final Fantasy (London Scala, 24th October)
Lacked the intimacy of the Circle Club show, but more than made up for it with his covers of Destroyer’s ‘Rubies’ and Bloc Party’s ‘This Modern Love’. How can one man with a violin be so damn talented?

20. The Earlies (York Fibbers, 14th May)
Proggy-synth fellas with nine members, a gazillion instruments and beautiful, relaxing harmonies that I could have easily listened to for hours on end. The very definition of lovely.

19. Boy Least Likely To (York Fibbers, 25th February)
Happy, happy, happy, happy!!! Like a massive sugar rush, this gleeful confectionery of joyous upbeat childishness mixed with often disarmingly downbeat lyrics had me grinning from beginning to end.

18. Sigur Ros (Manchester Apollo, 27th March)
Icelandic pixie-music that sometimes dragged on a bit (and suffered from slightly dodgy sound) but at their best they were enchanting like no other. Personally, I thought most of the truly impressive songs came from Takk, though the orgasmic Untitled 8 was on par with the Arcade Fire’s ‘In The Backseat’ as the best damn closer to a set ever. Also fell madly in love with all-female string section/support act Amiina.

17. Two Gallants (London Scala, 9th November)
Even more intense than last time (and that’s saying something), Two Gallants shattered eardrums across London with their pounding Delta blues. These guys must have sold their souls to the Devil to sound this good. Excellent support from Cold War Kids as well.

16. The Dears (Camden Koko, 26th October)
Although the cause of dreadful pain in the left eardrum, the Dears were one of the great surprises of the year- loud, intense and fucking brilliant. Not a very communicative band, that’s for sure, but they played with an energy and passion I’ve rarely seen since the Arcade Fire blew my tiny little mind in May ’05. A propensity for aimless noodling did make the latter half of the evening drag on a bit, but an absolutely blinding performance of ‘Never Destroy Us’ automatically cancels out any criticism I might had of the rest of the show.

15. Hope of the States (York Fibbers, 23rd April)
Almost as good as their Camden show; for the first and only time in their history they opened up with Black Stars, Red Stars which made me happier than you could ever imagine. Played with the verve and energy that made me fall in love with them in the first place.

14. Gogol Bordello (Camden Koko, 6th July)
Too far away from the stage this time to enjoy it as much as last time, Gogol Bordello still seem incapable of putting on a show that is less than totally awesome. During the encore a stark-naked man jumped on stage, who instead of being dragged away by security was allowed to give Eugene Hutz a piggy-back. Can’t see that happening at a James Blunt gig…

13. George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic (Hammersmith Apollo, 17th July)
Ancient funk pioneers live up to their name and lay the groove down on y’all. A commendably varied show, from the innuendo-filled jams of the older generation to the newer R&B/rap of Clinton’s granddaughter to the outstanding Hendrix-quality guitar instrumental that is Maggot Brain. I dig. Totally.

12. Scissor Sisters (Wembley Arena, 25th November)
OMg AdAM u’VE SOlD oUt LOL!!!!!11111 As embarrassing as it is to my supposed indie-cred to be found at a Scissors Sisters gig, I can’t deny that they put on a joyous live show. Even more outrageously camp than I’d expected, Jake Shears and Ana Matronic bounce, flounce and mince through a set full of guilty pleasures, most notably the vaudeville stomp of ‘Laura’ and sleazy-as-fuck closer ‘Filthy/Gorgeous’.
If you didn’t feel like dancin’ beforehand, you certainly will after this.

11. Broken Social Scene (Leeds Cockpit, 16th February)
Two and a half hours of densely layered instrumental weirdness veering between the pretentiously indulgent and the absolutely transcendent. The drop-dead gorgeous Anthems for a Seventeen Year Old Girl is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. I also got hugged by Kevin Drew, which although not quite as appealing as being hugged by Lisa Lobsinger was quite cool (in a totally non-gay way).

10. Little Man Tate (York Fibbers, 4th May)
So hot and sweaty I very nearly fainted, but Little Man Tate are one of those rare indie bands you just couldn’t stop moshing about like a loon to even if you wanted to. Bouncy, insanely catchy tunes from a group who are destined to hit the big time.

9. Imogen Heap (York Fibbers, 3rd April)
One-woman army with lovably eccentric stage presence rouses the biggest cheers I’ve ever heard at Fibbers with peerless Bjorkish electro-pop. I’d never heard anything by her before, but with songs like Hide and Seek and Goodnight and Go and a voice that rivalled Regina Spektor’s, I was completely and utterly won over. Outstanding.

8. Guillemots (Leeds Cockpit, 1st April)
Unclassifiable, yet immensely catchy band of oddballs put on brilliant live show only spoilt by retards chatting during the quiet songs. Endearingly cheerful frontman Fyfe Dangerfield certainly ain’t no slouch in the vocal department, and they’ve got more classic songs in the making than almost any band I’ve ever heard. Also, full marks to their excellent support band Misty’s Big Adventure.

7. Regina Spektor (Leeds Cockpit, 29th January)
Kooky Russian-American songstress enchants with witty, offbeat songs and one of the most amazing voices you'll ever hear. If you're not moved by Samson, then you have no soul. Smokes like a bellows, but I’d probably marry her if she asked me.

6. Guillemots (London Astoria, 2nd November)
The second of three times I saw this band in ’06. A few sound problems marred the first few songs but when they got into their stride they were near-unstoppable. The reaction to songs like “Trains to Brazil” and “Annie, Let’s Not Wait” was astounding, and a lovely rendition of ‘Redwings’ of a highlight of the night. Some of the slower songs may have fallen a bit flat, but with a song like Sao Paulo in their repertoire, I could forgive them almost anything.

5. Rodrigo Y Gabriela (Kentish Town Forums, 23rd November)

Mexican thrash metallists-cum-Spanish guitar virtuosos Rodrigo y Gabriela may need to wash their mouth’s out with soap after their truly prolific use of the F-word, but their skills are beyond reproach. Fingers flailed across the fretboard with astonishing speeds whilst complex rhythms were rapped on the woodwork; covers of Metallica’s “One”, Dave Brubeck’s “Take Five” and Led Zep’s “Stairway To Heaven” as well as their own songs were all performed with consummate Latino flair. Two of the most astoundingly talented musicians I’ve ever seen.

4. Drowned In Sound Christmas Party (Kings College London Student Union, 13th December)

A blueprint for all gigs- Minimal faffing about, maximum good music. Starting off with talented acoustic songstress Laura Groves, the night just got better and better with impressive sets by Jeremy Warmsley and GoodBooks. But it was headliners Guillemots who (yet again) blew my fucking mind with an all-killer, no-filler set, culminating with the untouchable Sao Paulo. And to top it off, we even got to chat to Fyfe-wooooo!

3. Gogol Bordello (Leeds Cockpit, 7th March)

Psychotic gypsy mentalists blow away all and sundry with a show that's like Moulin Rogue meets the Ramones on crack. Their songs may be derivative but the sheer energy and showmanship of Eugene Hutz and his motley crew completely eclipse anything I have ever seen. One of the most exciting and out-and-out FUN live bands in the world today.

2. Sigur Ros (Southampton Guildhall, 11th July)

Far, far, far better than their Manchester show, this had the sound quality and proximity to the stage a band of their quality deserved. Although we STILL didnt get Hafsol, they kept my attention throughout the whole set this time round; Olsen Olsen was absolutely divine, and Untitled 8 is still the best closer to a set in the world, ever. Stunningly beautiful and a truly memorable experience. Also, Id like to reiterate that I want to marry Hildur from Amiina. She’s so cute I want to cry.

1. The Flaming Lips (Manchester Apollo, 25th April)

The show of shows. The crème de la crème. The best freaking gig I have ever, ever been to in my life (yup, even better than the mighty Arcade Fire). A bit style-over-substance, perhaps, and Wayne Coyne does spend a bit too much time yapping rather than singing but I cannot begin to express in words the utter, overwhelming sense of joy that is the hallmark of the Flaming Lips. Dozens of giant balloons bouncing round the audience! Dancing santas! A hundred metric tons of confetti! Singing nun puppets! And of course, there was the music; Yoshimi, Do You Realize and The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song made me want to cry tears of sheer happiness. Without a doubt, one of the best nights of my life.

And that's it for my round-up of 2006. But for the masochistic among you, don't fret- I'll be continuing to update this blog with any new/exciting/godawful music that takes my fancy. First post ETA: sometime next week. Hopefully.