CASIOTONE FOR THE PAINFULLY ALONE (London Luminaire, 19/03/08)

As detailed here, I saw Owen “CFTPA” Ashworth at Bush Hall a couple of weeks back, and thought he was great. So great in fact, that I decided to check him out again at the Kilburn Luminaire. And once again, the world-weary indietronic-ist didn’t disappoint; being the last show of the tour, he played some of his more obscure tracks, took loads of requests and played the superb "Tonight Was A Disaster," which had been omitted from the Bush Hall setlist . Jenny Herbison drunkenly fulfilled her promise at the previous show to add a tap-dancing routine to her performance, the crowd was very receptive and it's just a shame it over-ran so much; it's the second gig in a month I've had to leave early from because of trains.

As for the supports: Rotterdam-based Harry Merry was the most unsettlingly sinister character I've seen in my twenty-two years life life. With his sailor suit, Anton Chigurh hair and creepy, Peewee Herman vocals, hitched to hyperactive, Max-Tundra-ish keyboard freakouts, he looked like a mentally deficient sex offender and scared me to the point of tears. Then from the ridiculous to the sublime, a.P.a.T.t put on the most genuinely interesting performance I’ve witnessed in a while. Basically Akron/Family taken to their logical conclusion, they're a lively, multi-instrumental six-piece who essentially cram every single genre under the sun into their music- frantic Gypsy-folk, death metal, 80's R&B, techno, math-rock... Yeah, it was inarguably pretentious, but they're so fascinatingly unique that they're easily the best "support band discovery" of the year so far.

(Photo: Capitodeneuve (Flickr))

BLACK KIDS (London Institute of Contemporary Arts, 13/03/08)

Two months on the road can take its toil on a band, but if Black Kids’ are feeling the strain, they certainly don’t show it. Their excellent showcase at London’s intimate ICA venue suggests they’ve honed their performance after their mildly disappointing performance at the Water Rats, and their joyous hyperactive nursery-school-disco-pop has finally got the sound mix to do it justice. Their non-EP material for the most part remains comparatively underwhelming (which doesn’t bode well for their upcoming debut) but the hits are delivered with the same wonderful charm as their recorded incarnations, the 50’s “doop doop” coda of “I’ve Underestimated My Charm” and the synth-tastic brashness of “Hit The Heartbrakes” particular standouts. But once again, it’s the sublime “I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You,” a nostalgically lo-fi cheerleader singalong sounding like a Cure cover of The Go! Team, that truly captures the carefree 80's spirit the band are aiming for. Like the equally hyped Vampire Weekend, they’re no means the revelation some quarters are making them out to be, but hey, they’re a hell of a lot of fun.

(Photo: Max Tollworthy (Flickr))

BROKEN RECORDS (London Soho Revue Bar, 11/03/08)


Middle-of-the-road mediocrities The Heart Strings are the ostensible headliners of tonight’s set at the Soho Revue Bar, but it’s clear that the vast majority of those present are here for Scotland’s new great hopes, and deservedly so. Despite the less-than-salubrious environs of the venue (located in some sleazy Soho backstreet), Broken Records’ first ever London show exudes more class than any new band on the circuit. As much as they must hate this comparison, they’ve definitely got something of the Arcade Fire about them; their epic scope, the baroque instrumentation, the intense, kinetic performance of their lead singer. But they’re certainly no rip-off merchants; rather than emulating the doom-and-gloom bombast of their Canadian counterparts, they furrow a folkier vein more akin to the likes of Okkervil River. There’s even a touch of Beirut on a couple of songs, uplifting strings and accordions adding a touch of lightness to their multi-layered sound.

There’s still room for improvement though; Broken Records still lack the emotional pull to be as rapturous an experience as their talent would suggest. Their musicianship and songwriting is undeniably superb, but it’s slightly lacking in innovation and edge; as much as I enjoy their material, they’ve yet to truly blow me away in the way Arcade Fire did three years ago. Also, with the exception of the frontman, the band don’t quite deliver the passion the songs deserve, although I’m sure this is something that’ll improve over time. But overall, this is an exceedingly successful performance; the fact that they could achieve total silence from the audience (an audience filled with industry types to boot!) during closer The Slow Parade marks them out an incredibly special talent. One of the best sets of the year so far, there’s no doubt in my mind that Broken Records are the most promising British band in yonks.

(Photo: Helen (Flickr))

MARTHA WAINWRIGHT (London Queen Elizabeth Hall, 07/03/08)

Let’s keep this brief- Martha Wainwright was the only reason worth going to Girl Friday’s thoroughly mediocre showcase at the Southbank Centre. Her 30 minute acoustic set showcased her husky, powerful vocals perfectly and if the incessant chatter of morons at the bar came close to inciting me to murder, the sheer quality of her intensely personal songs made the experience a bearable one. Kudos also to Dockers MC, a Brixton-based spoken word artist who, against all expectations, was a witty and likeable performer, but the rest of the evening was pretty forgettable.

(Photo: Youneedtoseethese (Flickr))

YEASAYER (London Institute of Contemporary Arts, 06/03/08)

One of the more intriguing hype bands around, Yeasayer’s hazy, percussive, slightly psychedelic indie rock, underpinned with a strong Native American influence is a world away from the angular, screechy guitar-pop favoured by the likes of the NME, and all the better for it. A mellower, more accessible relation of TV On The Radio, their live show displays the same invention and killer grooves that made their album such a pleasure, although it never quite reached the heights of brilliance they’re so clearly capable of. Performance-wise, they’re proficient rather than remarkable, only their impassioned vocalist really standing out, although the fact their bassist looks alarmingly like Weird Al Yankovic is good for a laugh. There’s also a slightly off-kilter sound-mix for much of the show, the guitars too low for the grooves to really get going. But otherwise, there’s little to complain about; musically, they’re stunning, with single 2080 made all the better for the addition of glam-rock drumming, and some of the less immediate songs on the album acquit themselves wonderfully here. But there’s few who’ll deny the highlight of the night was the astounding Sunrise, complete with impromptu extra percussion from supports Dragon of Zynth- truly mindblowing stuff. One can only imagine how amazing they’d be if they raise the rest of their performance to the same quality.

(Photo: Bjaglin (Flickr))

CASIOTONE FOR THE PAINFULLY ALONE (London Bush Hall, 05/03/08)

Lo-fi indietronica for the win! Owen Ashworth’s simple, whimsical keyboard-driven balladry is a constant delight on record, and his typically unostentatious live show is no different. Normally a one man outfit, he’s brought female vocalist Jenny Herbinson along, and her quirky Nico-ish contributions to his new material add another level of variety. She’s also a very endearing character, a good counterpoint to Owen’s polite shyness, and her obvious excitement at being in England for the first time is charming. But even on his own, CFTPA delivers the goods, his stripped down beats and short, sweet musical vignettes infused with a wry humour, and the relatively short set time (an hour) meant that the formula didn’t wear thin. I was so impressed, in fact, that I'm seeing him again later this month at the Luminaire. Great stuff.

Support came from Max Tundra, a very unusual fellow whose music comes across as a mixture of Rufus Wainwright, Animal Collective, CBeebies theme tunes and some dodgy German rave outfit from the 90’s. Wearing a cape, he’s not the most inhibited of fellows, dancing like a psychopath to most of tunes and gesticulating wildly with emotion as he sings; it’s a formula that certainly won’t appeal to everyone, and he’s not blessed with the strongest of vocal chords, but any man who can pull of a techno cover of “So Long, Farewell” from the Sound of Music deserves some kudos.

(Photo: Wemayfreeze (Flickr))

MAXIMUM BLACK FESTIVAL (Kentish Town Forum, 29/02/08)

Bah, five acts doesn’t constitute a festival! But hey, with such an enticing line-up I wasn’t exactly going to quibble about the semantics. I could, however, quibble long and hard about the rubbishness of the Forum. Although the recent redecoration means it’s no longer quite as dingy as it was, the acoustics are still bloody terrible, something that was immediately apparent from the moment Frog Eyes started their first song. A relatively obscure, terribly under-rated Canadian group (‘Bushels’ is, in my honest opinion, one of the best songs ever written), their mix of swirling, chaotic keyboards, epic song structures and Carey Mercer’s unhinged, impassioned yelping deserved far better than the turgid sound mix inflicted upon them by the Forum’s sound people. The lead guitar was mixed in far too low, the keys were pretty much inaudible and Mercer’s marvellous vocal gymnastics were diminished, and combined with the suspect acoustics of the venue it made them sound like they were playing at the other end of a wind tunnel. Not a complete disaster, (‘Paul’s Tomb’ was as stunning as ever) but it wasn’t a patch on last year’s superb show at the Luminaire.


More encouraging were Six Organs of Admittance, an act I’ve never really listened to before- I was very pleasantly surprised by their mesmerising grooves and lashings of distorted guitar fuzz. Definitely encouraged to check out more of their stuff in the future.


Then for Dirty Projectors, who I thought were ace. A love-‘em-or-hate-em band through and through, their odd time signatures, and weird, discordant melodies are sometimes a bit pretentious and outré even for my tastes, but for the most part they’re a brilliantly original experience, sounding unlike anyone I can think of. At a push, you could describing them as mixing elements of Animal Collective, Battles and the Beach Boys, but there’s much more to them than that; particularly worthy of note were their intricate guitar duets and striking female harmonies. They’ve also gained charisma and stage presence over the last year, adding some much-needed accessibility to a very impressive performance.


As for Alexander Tucker and Stephen O’ Malley…well, if I wanted to hear thirty minutes of self-indugent, mindnumbing drone, I'd watch a Tarantino interview. It wasn’t actually that bad for the first ten minutes, but then I realised there was still twenty to go and began to lose the will to live. The second worst set I've seen so far this year, if only because Cutting Pink With Knives are the musical equivalent of a terminal disease.


Luckily, Owen Pallett redeemed things with a typically accomplished performance- I’ve seen him five times now, and he never fails to astonish me with what he can do with just a violin, a keyboard and a loop pedal. I only caught half his set thanks to the ridiculously late start time, but what I saw was brilliant- the new stuff sounded great, and the old favourites were delivered with effortless flair; best performance of CN Tower I ever did see. Steff’s low-tech projections are as inventive as his music, and it’s a shame the venue felt the need to obscure them with excessive amounts of smoke. Apparently, he finished with the awesome This Lambs Sells Condos, which upset me greatly, but my sources vouch for its excellence.


Overall then, a decent night out that nonetheless fell far short of its potential. I’d love to see more shows with such interesting line-ups, albeit at a venue that doesn’t completely suck. Oh, and with less half-hour drone-fests too.

(Photos: John Gleeson; Mapsadaisical (Flickr))

MENOMENA (Kings College London, 27/02/08)

Two fire alarms in one week! What are the chances?! But despite having their set delayed half an hour due to the building being evacuated, not to mention a host of assorted technical hitches, Menomena put on a typically excellent performance that put many of their peers to shame. The fact they manage to recreate the idiosyncratic blend of indie rock, Friddman-esque psychedelia and jazz that made Friend and Foe such a joy to listen to with only three members is a minor marvel in itself, but the fact they do it so damn well is a testament to their formidable talent. With no one member dominating proceedings, it’s a true group effort with vocal duties and instruments constantly switching between members, although special props have to go to the baritone sax, quite possible the coolest instrument ever. Their older material, which I’m less familiar with, seemed drier and less engaging than Friend and Foe and the set sagged when these songs were played, but awesome renditions of Muscle ‘n Flo, Rotten Hell and Boyskouts more than compensated. I've seen Menomena three time now and they’ve got better each time- let’s hope they can keep it up.

(Photo: Goldenelia (Flickr))

ISLANDS (Hoxton Bar and Kitchen, 26/02/08)

Proof that great tunes alone don’t automatically make for a good show, Islands’ oddly underwhelming set at Hoxton was particularly galling as it promised so much. True, the set was geared so heavily towards new material, but that shouldn’t have mattered- the impressive blend of AF-like orchestral grandeur and upbeat African rhythms was just, if not more engaging than anything from the debut. The actual performance was solid too; impressively energetic, with the violinist particularly standing out for his enthusiastic additions to their tremendous sound. But the atmosphere was totally off; the band didn’t look like they didn’t want to be there, lead singer Nick occasionally making barbed comments to the crowd, and the audience was teeming with that abhorrent subspecies “Hipstera Hoxtonus,” to whom genuine, non-ironic enjoyment is anathema. Hopefully, once the album’s released and people are familiar with the songs their live show will work better- they’ve clearly got the potential to be a phenomenal live proposition, but we were only afforded teasing hints of that tonight.

(Photo: Amadeep Chana)

EELS (Royal Festival Hall, 25/02/08)

Eels are a damn frustrating live band. For all his talents and marvellous back-catalogue, E has the unfortunate tendency to blemish an otherwise tip-top performance with unnecessary self-indulgence and his latest show at the Royal Festival Hall was no different. His gimmickry often falls flat, the set-list choices are sometimes bafflingly obtuse and overlong readings from E’s recently-published autobiography smacks of a man who needs reining in for his own good. Yet this same eccentricity is paradoxically the reason for his enduring appeal. I mean, who else would genuinely try to get the Queen to come along to one of his gigs? And his quirk of completely changing the format of his touring band every year ensures you get a different experience every time you see him, even though admittedly some permutations work better than others.

Moving on from the string arrangements of 2005 and the gospel-tinged garage rock of 2006, E’s now stripped down the band to a bare minimum, with just guitarist and drummer ‘The Chet’ for accompaniment. This simple, unadorned set-up naturally as always led to some radically different interpretations of his recorded material, a heartbreaking, saw-driven Bus Stop Boxer and a grungey take on Novocaine For The Soul standing out as highlights. In fact, the whole set list was unusually awesome, with a surprising number of tracks from Electro-Shock Blues (the haunting Elizabeth On The Bathroom Floor, Last Stop: This Town and PS You Rock My World and Climbing to the Moon), not to mention classics like I Like Birds, It’s a Motherfucker and perennial favourite My Beloved Monster. Indeed, if it wasn’t for the occasional cringeworthy moment, it would have easily been a five-star performance; if only E would show a bit more restraint then maybe he’d be as marvellous live as he could, and should be.

(Photo: Thomas Kjaer)

VAMPIRE WEEKEND (London ULU, 24/02/08)

Inexorably attracting every skinny-jeaned, floppy-fringed youth within a 20 mile radius, Vampire Weekend’s headline gig at the University of London was a chance for New York’s brightest young things to prove they’re worthy of the massive hype being bestowed upon them. Their debut album is likable enough, an Afrobeat inspired collection of jangly guitars, erudite lyrics and Paul Simon-esque melodies, but it’s certainly not the classic some quarters are making it out to be. So it came as a pleasant surprise that their live show, although strait-laced in many respects, was way more enjoyable than I possibly expected.

Apart from the odd tempo change they stuck very close to their recorded sound, but their proficiency and energy stopped this from being a lazy sleepwalk through their back-catalogue; like the Soweto sound they appropriate so liberally, their music is made to be performed live. Even the irritating Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa was more bearable in its live incarnation, and all was going swimmingly until disaster struck and a rogue fire alarm forced an impromptu evacuation of the building. Thankfully, the Gods of Indie were looking kindly upon us that night, as it wasn’t too long before the fire brigade gave the all clear, and the majority of the crowd returned for the last quarter of the set. And funnily enough, the atmosphere only improved as a result of this near-catastrophe, Oxford Comma and the sublimely kinetic Walcott (which, if there’s any justice in the world, should be one of the festival anthems of this summer) easily getting the best reception of the night. If you get the chance, I’d definitely recommend checking these guys out (although a quick warning- their last London show sold out in 5 minutes); they’re by no means a revelation, but you’re guaranteed a fine time.

(Photo: Arkadyevna (Flickr))

POLYSICS (Islington Academy, 09/02/08)

Hyperactive Japanese mentalists in bright orange boiler suits, hi-energy surf-rock melodies and nonsensical Japlish exhortations? Yup, you got to love the Polysics. After enduring Cutting Pink With Knives, the most breathtakingly dire support act I’ve ever seen, the Oriental four-piece had quite the task in winning back over the audience, but thankfully their day-glo pogo punk par excellence swiftly erased memories of the distressing awfulness of their openers. Their live sound isn’t drastically different to their albums, except that everything’s twice as fast, twice as loud and fuck loads more energetic which, you know, is pretty fine by me. New songs sparkled with life, and the oldies got the whole crowd moving and singing along incomprehensibly like no other band I’ve seen since Gogol Bordello. Like most essentially novelty acts, one could argue they lack subtlety and variety but that’d be missing the point- this band’s all about having fun, and in this they succeed with flying colours.

RACHEL UNTHANK AND THE WINTERSET (London Borderline, 08/02/08)

Amiable Geordie Rachel, her little sister and their two bandmates have done the near-impossible: they’ve persuaded me trad folk is a good thing. There’s nothing intrinsically innovative about the Winterset; their songs are all folk standards from across the British Isles, with the earnest lyrics and parochial themes that’s typical of the genre, but their performed with such flair and charm that it’s impossible not to fall in love. Both Unthank sisters are blessed with the most amazingly ethereal voices, perfectly complimented by their effervescent cello and piano arrangements and their unassuming, down-to-earth charisma makes them just as likeable as their music. The Lonely Cutter, with its cute tap-dancing interludes and big ol’ audience singalongs was a highlight, as was the marvellous Bleezing Blind Drunk, but it was accapella closer The Shetland Boat Song that really blew me away. One of those rare acts that can open up a genre to non-traditional fans, I cannot recommend them highly enough.

BLACK KIDS (London Water Rats, 06/02/08)

Of all the bands that have been tipped for success this year, there’s none that have won me over more than Black Kids. Their marvellous Wizard of Ahhhs EP has been soundtracking my last couple of months, and their live show, although not quite as good as it could have been, showed enough promise to suggest a band destined for big things. Sounding like the Go! Team spliced with The Cure and Bowie, their soulful, nostalgic, slightly melancholic but wonderfully uplifting lo-fi pop is as instantly catchy as anything I’ve heard since Little Man Tate and it was great to see that they managed to convey this in their live show. Reggie Youngblood isn’t the most likable of frontman, true, and their musical proficiency isn’t jaw-dropping by any means, but when you’ve got songs as deliriously awesome as “I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You” criticisms tend to just melt away. Loads of room for improvement, but I’ve got high hopes for these guys.

OKKERVIL RIVER (London Scala, 05/02/08)

With the possible exceptions of the National and Sigur Ros, never has my opinion of a band changed so dramatically as with Okkervil River. Yeah, I’m still to be convinced about the brilliance of their recorded material, but for sheer passion and musicianship and all round proficiency, they’re one of the best bands touring today. Texan folk-rock with a touch of the flamboyant, Will Sheff’s rough-edged voice is less hoarse than at their sublime Luminaire performance, and although the Scala is much less intimate than Kilburn’s finest, the same degree of brilliance is on show here. My friend derided the rest of his band as “pub-band musicians,” which I think is unfair- true, they don’t try to steal the limelight (although the maniacally grinning drummer Travis deserves a mention), but they’re all superb musicians, adding the perfect degree of instrumental flair to accentuate the richness of Sheff’s melodies. John Allen Smyth Sails merging into A Life Is Not A Movie merging into For Real was as sublime a twenty minutes of live music I’ve heard for months, and if the encore went on a bit too long, there’s no denying one got their money’s worth. Best show of 2008 so far.

MAKE MODEL (London Water Rats, 31/01/08)

Part of a new wave of Scottish bands bent on erasing the bad taste of The View and their talentless ilk, Make Model’s impressive if succinct set at the Water Rats suggests an exciting new talent with a bright future ahead of them. Eschewing the Libertines derived sound commandeered by so many of the peers, the dense synth pop and lovely wall-of-sound harmonies of debut single The Was comes across as a heady mix of Glasvegas and Los Campesinos, whilst having a distinctive edge of its own. And unlike so many new bands, they seem to have more to them than their one big song; the fuzzy guitars and irregular time signatures of Czech Neck recall Broken Social Scene at their most accessible. Plus, they have a track named after a Brass Eye joke- what more could you want?

(Photo: John Lewis)

EXPLOSIONS IN THE SKY (London Astoria, 30/01/08)

Two hours of music, roughly five songs played. In most cases, you’d feel pretty short changed, but with a line up of Explosions In The Sky and Eluvium you wouldn’t expect any different. One man sonic magician Matthew Cooper starts the night’s proceedings with his looping, minimalist soundscapes; it’s not often you’d hear 16 minute stretches of ambience at the rock ‘n roll Astoria, but on a night like this, it seems to fit. Not everyone’s cup of tea, definitely, but for fans of Alexander Tucker and Boards of Canada he comes much recommended.

In any case, he set the tone perfectly for the headliners. Not a band to rush things, Explosions In The Sky’s slow-burning, considered instrumentals may strike a newcomer to their music as Sigur Ros without the orchestra, but I think EITS’ charms are more subtle, if perhaps not quite as breathtaking. Yeah, they can slowly swell to a climax of ground-sundering aural intensity with the best of them but their more reserved moments can be just as impressive. Although banter is a no-no (would have broken the flow of the show), they put a surprising amount of passion into their performance, Munaf Rayani on his knees during the more intense moments and if there were some idiots who persisted on talking through the quiet bits, the vast majority seemed to be enraptured. Being someone’s who’s always preferred a bit more instrumental variety in his post-rock, Explosions In The Sky will never be my favourite exponents of the genre, but especially given the simplicity of their set-up, there’s no denying they’re an incredible experience live. Let’s just hope their proposed hiatus doesn’t turn to be a permanent one- it’d be a shame to see these guys fizzle out.

(Photo: Jacob Saunders)

STARS (London Koko, 29/01/08)

I first saw the increasingly-popular Canadian sixpiece back in October, and as this review testifies, I thought they were pretty great. And their show at the Koko was another satisfying dose of shimmering pop and lush melodies, but with a slightly more downbeat, reflective setlist and a lesser degree of intimacy. Impressive support set from Apostle of Hustle too, much better than his solo show supporting Broken Social Scene back in the day.

REVERE- The Luminaire (24/01/08)

Having blown me away opening for Hope of the States splinter band ‘Troubles’ last March, it’s shocking it’s taken me so long to check out Revere again. The London-based nine-piece haven’t exactly reinvented the wheel with their orchestral post-rock, but their slightly derivative sound doesn’t get in the way of their excellence as a live act. A bit of Balkan brass here, a touch of Muse-esque histrionics there, they draw upon whole mish-mash of influences, all woven together with impressive skill. Their lyrics are pretty unexceptional as a rule, but their lush, cinematic sound is something to behold, adapting the classic post-rock template and giving it a slightly poppier, more accessible edge. The spectral vocals from Gabby Young are particular worthy of note, complimenting Stephen Ellis’ falsetto wail wonderfully, and set finale The Escape Artist particularly impresses with its melodic strength and instrumental richness. Perhaps an occasional deviation from slow-loud dynamics wouldn’t have gone amiss, and there really isn’t need for marching band snare in every song, but they produce such a damn glorious racket I can’t help but love them. As long as their upcoming album does their live show justice, hopefully 2008 will see Revere get the success they so richly deserve.

Wojtek Godzisz was a pretty decent support as they go; his lyrics were as dire as the script from Alien Vs. Predator 2, but his sheer enthusiasm and catchy classic rock hooks passed the time very pleasantly. Another band called Kaiko also played, but I’ll be damned if I can remember anything about them. Couldn’t have been that great, really.

(Photo: Polstar Photography)

MORRISSEY- London Roundhouse (21/01/08)

I’ve always been perplexed at the reverence afforded to Stephen Patrick Morrissey. Sure, he’s one of Britain’s best lyricists, but the relative staidness of his melodies and his appallingly egotistical behaviour makes him an exceedingly difficult character to love. Monday night’s show at the Roundhouse didn’t change my opinion of the man one jot, although I’ll admit his songwriting’s much better than I’d previously given him credit for. It started off fantastically; a rapturously received How Soon Is Now followed by his best solo single, the brilliant The First Of The Gang To Die. But then new material and obscurities started to take over the set; to give him his dues, a couple had promise, although others came across as generic as your average Feeder song. Given the recent furore over his comments about immigration to the NME, National Front Disco was an audacious addition to the setlist, leaving a bad taste in the mouth of more than a few present, although the excellent Death of A Disco Dancer almost made up for his questionable foray into controversy.

Although he complained of “a frog in his throat…and not a small French person”, Morrissey’s unmistakable croon was thankfully undiminished, and despite looking more like a middle-aged bank manager every day, he still has the flair of the consummate showman. Shame about the sound though; for such a well-regarded venue, the acoustics were dreadfully tinny, with Morrissey’s vocals often lost in a haze of echoes and bass. His uninspiring pub-rock musicians didn’t help matters much, although their plodding takes on the Mozfather’s oeuvre was at least mildly competent (unlike Cat Power’s band last year, who were truly atrocious). Peculiar crowd too; the front third frantic hardcore supplicants at the altar of Moz, madly scrambling to get the merest angstrom of bodily contact with their Messiah, the rest music hacks and disinterested scenesters showing the same enthusiasm that normally greets a wake. Ah well, closer Last Of The Famous International Playboys was a blinder, a superb singalong moment in a show mostly bereft of genuine atmosphere- if all of his songs were as good as that, then I’d be more inclined to understand the slavish hero worship he attracts. I’ll happily acknowledge his status as one of the great idiosyncratic icons of British music, but I’ll never be able to love him half as much as he loves himself.