Culturedeluxe Live Reviews

Live - T in the Park 2008 Festival

Fri, 18 Jul 2008 22:55:00 GMT

After the shenanigans caused by a waterlogged car park last year leading to ten hour traffic tailbacks to Dundee, the Culturedeluxe crew head down to Kinross a night early to be assured the extra six hours of music available to Friday night campers only. However, with a two hour queue just to reach the campsite entrance and half a bottle of whisky within grabbing distance, there was always likely to be problems. This is why, dear reader, you'll excuse my hazy recollections of Friday night's entertainment.

I am reliably informed that I took in the artful, wordy Los Campesinos! and even delivered a string of appreciative whoops. However, it's likely I passed out before either Gareth or Aleksandra had time to finish introducing one of their over-long titled songs. I know I surfaced again in time for The Music with an in-form Robert Harvey ruling over the King Tut's stage with skill, albeit less majesty than their NME stage headline slot of a few years ago. Early material such as 'The People' sits well with new anthems such as 'Strength in Numbers' and, those who haven't been for a tactical puke yet, bounce along with the wide-eyed abandon that first nights at festivals inspires.

A long course is plotted to the NME stage, ensuring no sound of cash-in Verve is overheard, where The Chemical Brothers appear to have turned up, placed a CD in the mixer and buggered off leaving an incredible light show to accompany their sounds. However, a trained ear picks up some intentionally super edits, a sober eye enjoys the marching robot and exploding paintball visual effects perfectly synchronised to the music and Sky+ reveals that the brothers were skulking in the shadows all along. Not exactly what you'd ask for from a headlining slot, but it's only Friday and at least it drowned out the glorified busking of Richard Ashcroft and co.

Festival Fashions

Superheroes - with Friday billed as fancy dress day there are caped crusaders as far as the eye can see. But spare a thought for the chap who dressed up as 80's cartoon star Bananaman only to find there was already one there.

Smurfs - one of the weirdest sights I noticed in the Pet Sounds tent was a group of five blokes covered in blue paint and, understandably, out of their trees. The four white-capped smurfs were taking cues from the red-capped 'Papa smurf', the craziest of the lot.

Scotland Flags - not being waved in the air, but the choice of many young ladies at T in the Park as capes, aptly covering their modesty as underneath most were wearing very little at all.

'Altern 8' Rave Boiler Suits - these disposable coveralls double up as perfect mud-guards (for which there was no need) and ideal attire when you're 'on one' in the Slam tent.

The Saturday lunchtime slot at T in the Park is always value for money, a pre-fame Darkness once rocked our socks off when that particular joke was still funny, last year we wondered whether Richard Jobson would break his hip doing high kicks with a reformed Skids and this year we're treated, really treated, to the sound of 60 year old Eddy Grant. Dressed in his trademark Rastafarian cap and flanked by a full band including three larger than life backing singers dressed in red, gold and green, Grant's sundance ensures good weather for the rest of the weekend. His set contains 80's pop ('I Don't Wanna Dance', 'Electric Avenue'), a customary dash of politics ('Gimme Hope Joanna') and a surprise outing for his forty year old number one 'Baby Come Back' which prompts many youngsters to crane their necks searching for Pato Banton.

Nostalgia continues with a trip to a packed out King Tut's tent for an early afternoon performance by The Stranglers. Although it's a long time since they last played with Hugh Cornwell (and drummer Jet Black is also missing today), long-term stand-in Baz Warne is on blistering form as always taking lead vocals on most of a classic-filled set featuring the likes of 'Peaches', 'Always the Sun', 'Golden Brown', 'Duchess', 'Strange Little Girl' and finishing with a storming 'No More Heroes' which threatens to raise the roof off a full tent. The only criticism one can levy is their ludicrously low placing on the bill resulting in a reduced set.

Reminding myself that it is, in fact, 2008 and not 1978, it's time to head to the Pet Sounds arena to Dev Hynes and an afternoon run through 'Falling off Lavender Bridge' by Lightspeed Champion. Dev appears on stage sporting his trademark furry hat, while his bassist prefers a red beanie and, before long, a sizable crowd are cheering in the first few bars of 'Galaxy of the Lost'. Highlights of the set include a breathtaking version of 'Tell Me What It's Worth', a violin-heavy run through the theme to 'Star Wars' and two new tracks (one of which is called 'Happy Birthday') which suggest Hynes and co may be about to surpass this year's fabulous debut album.

Back to the King Tut's tent and Adele Bethal of Sons & Daughters is highly-wired, squealing and shrieking her way through 'Gilt Complex'. Late in the set they wheel out a disappointing cover of Adamski's 'Killer' which makes some sense when the line 'All of the Sons and Daughters already know how that feels' appears, but it's scant reason to butcher a classic. The pieces are picked up in style by the set-closing 'Dance Me In', however, and the band escape, reputation in tact, with appreciative applause from the home crowd.

Festival Food

Special mention must go out to the 'Healthy T' area, conveniently located next to the excellent Pet Sounds stage, where, for a couple of quid more, revellers can enjoy excellent Loch Fyne roast beef and lamb rolls, Buffalo burgers, proper coffee, smoothies and (my personal favourite) stovies and put an end to those worries about food poisoning from the over-priced 'quality' burger vans that pepper the rest of the arena.

An eager crowd gathers for MGMT with footage from one of the standout sets from Glastonbury a fortnight ago no doubt fresh in their minds, as it is mine. However, Andrew VanWyngarden and Ben Goldwasser look somewhat awkward as they embark, seemingly in continuous communication with the sound desk. It's with good reason as it's a markedly different sound that greets us, particularly during an early appearance of the current single 'Electric Feel'. We're compelled to leave a handful of songs into the set and find everything sounds improved from outside. New fans who have turned up with the primary wish to sing along to the riffs of breakthrough single 'Time to Pretend' and single-in-waiting 'Kids' seem happy, but there's no denying this is the first disappointment of the weekend.

Acute disappointment is also a theme to the normally bankable Kaiser Chiefs headline set on the NME stage later. A string of new songs gauge an unimpressive response from the crowd leading to Ricky Wilson uttering a petulant "When we're headlining the main stage next year you'll all be singing along to them", clearly aimed at the immense crowd being entertained by Rage Against the Machine mere yards away. One new song, however, has single written all over it and, while not in the league of 'Ruby', 'I Predict a Riot' and 'Oh My God' which do find the crowd on their side, coupled with the band's gymnastic ability (particularly Ricky's stage-climbing antics) and unbreakable enthusiasm they pull the gig from being unremarkable. However, if Ricky's premonition is to come true, the third album needs to be more than a few steps above 'The Angry Mob'.

In typically anti-establishment mode, Rage Against The Machine have overrun their allotted stage time meaning virtually the entire festival are there to witness a triumphant run through 'Killing in the Name'. The line 'Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me' seems strangely apt as I check my watch and imagine an angry stage manager tapping his foot. Of course, the line is usually meant as a political statement and coupled with an update to the first verse 'Some of those that hold office, are the same that burn crosses' the band receive a huge round of applause that suggests their explosive start to the gig (a blistering run through 'Testify', 'Bulls on Parade', 'People of the Sun' and 'Bombtrack') was no fluke and, perhaps, loyalty to the Kaiser Chiefs live show was misguided this night.

Sunday starts late for us as I'm grudgingly led to the main stage for Shed 7's annual payday. Their audience is made up of sunbathers, some of whom can remember the lyrics to the band's sizable back catalogue remarkably well. It also gives me the chance to meet up with some pals whom I'd been unable to contact. So, thank you Mr Witter - just this once, mind.

The swarm of people heading towards the King Tuts stage for The Ting Tings worries me somewhat. Once again this is a two thirty show the organisers may not have expected to be completely full, given that they booked the band when they were a relatively unknown, hitless double act. With claustrophobia washing over me just looking at the potential crowd I slope off to the Pet Sounds tent for My Morning Jacket, an act I've heard mentioned often enough but never checked out. It turns out to be a rather inspired choice and when Jim James arrives on stage wearing a cape I figure 'what's not to like?' With a rather small crowd perfectly aware that the act they're watching will never hit number one, unlike their King Tut's rivals, and an enjoyable mix of plodding, dub-tinged grooves and melodic alternative rock punctuated by the odd shriek, My Morning Jacket are a perfect sunday afternoon band. Jim also reveals that today he's wearing the International Peace Belt designed by Wendy Black-Nasta and makes an impassioned plea for world peace to a crowd that clearly agree with every word.

Battles are one of the acts I've been most looking forward to, having enjoyed the experimental, abstract sound of last year's 'Mirrored' album. I'm clearly not alone as a large crowd have made their way down to Pet Sounds, some unsure what they're letting themselves in for. After half an hour of what appears to be improvisation (and almost certainly isn't), they finally make some sense when the chipmunk glam stomp of 'Atlas' begins and the gathered throng stamp along in approval. Leaving the stage with a highly-confusing run through 'Race: In', it's not clear if what we heard was actually great but I highly enjoyed it.

Taking a break for an hour or so, I head back to Pet Sounds yet again for Seasick Steve, the toast of last year's Connect festival and another on my list of must sees. The praise is vindicated immediately when Steve arrives, his home-made, three-string guitar in one hand and a bottle in the other. Joined by a drummer shortly after, the duo work their way through story-based alt.country stomps, pausing to deliver a heart-felt ballad to two lucky young ladies who join Steve on stage. Clearly feeling three strings to be a luxury, Steve then switches to a one string guitar for one of the highlights of the set, before being united with his usual instrument to finish with some 'three string trance', a gigantic clap-a-long that gives you some idea of how dance music may have sounded if it had originated in Oakland instead of Detroit and Chicago. Having delivered the performance of the weekend, it makes the disappointment of finding the Slam tent full for Justice's heavy electro set worthwhile. It also gives me the chance to catch the first few tracks by Metronomy on the tiny Relentless Energy stage, playing guaranteed floor-fillers 'My Heart Rate Rapid' and 'Holiday' to about twenty people.

Having been truly spoiled by Seasick Steve's set, to then be wowed by the most musically brilliant act of the weekend, Holy Fuck, makes my day. Again on the Relentless stage and with no more than one hundred clued-in viewers present, the band show exactly why their 'LP' begins with live track 'Super Inuit' (present today). Although barely addressing the audience as they hunch over various machinery, Holy Fuck successfully fulfill their modus operandi - to create dance music largely without the help of synthesizers - with memorable performances of 'Milkshake', 'The Pulse' and a wonderful finale of recent single 'Lovely Allen'. I must also make mention of the band's method of recycling tape to a sizzling sound effect and the fact that REM's Michael Stipe has since been quoted as being rather miffed they were scheduled at the same time as his own act as the act would have had a rather famous crowd member in other circumstances.

Passing Michael smugly we hear that he's still 'pushing an elephant up the stairs' and decide to leave him to it and give The Prodigy a fifth T in the Park audience. Liam, Keith and Maxim appear happy in their role as a 'retro' band tonight, albeit sounding closer to a heavy metal act now than the cartoon ravers who first excited us in 1991. The hits come thick and fast with a mid-set 'Firestarter' still sounding immense while 'Breathe', ironically, appears an asthmatic, wheezy shadow of its former self. The comparatively poor (at the time) 'Voodoo People', on the other hand, has never sounded better. The best tracks are saved for the encore though and both 'Poison' and an abridged 'Out of Space' leave the crowd happy and ready to go home and sleep...for a week if possible.

Special thanks to Andy J for input, photographs, lodging and perhaps saving my life over the weekend.

...

Live - Supersonic Festival

Thu, 17 Jul 2008 21:35:00 GMT

Supersonic has been described variously as "the nexus where metal, folk and noise meet" and, last year "festival of the year". With it practicaly taking place on my doorstep, not going along would've been very foolish indeed. Err... I had to miss the Friday though (I hear Rolo Tomassi, Dalek and DJ Scotch Egg rocked it) but I got down there bright and early the next day...

Saturday

As I arrived at the Custard Factory, Cath and Phil Tyler were midway through a gentle set which, by it's calmness, sounded quite at odds with most other bands I'd be hearing over the weekend. Nominally a folk duo but sounding as far from the nu/alt-folk movement as possible, Cath and Phil's stubborn traditionalism and earthy themes of life, death and drama sat just fine at such an idiosyncratic festival.

The Owl Service complemented them and didn't try to raise the roof much either. The band are a gentle, pastoral proposition who apparently believe that production methods peaked in 1969. I don't know about that but they offered an inoffensive-enough set of folky songs. This is Supersonic though, and I was in the mood for some offence so I took myself off to the other stage.

Local band The Courtesy Group kicked up a Fall-ish ruckus while singer/poet Al Hutchins strode about looking angrier than a man in a floral shirt should do, proclaiming angry poetry between songs. From more knowledgeable souls than myself I heard that this was a bigger stage than the band would've been used to. Al in particular seemed to relish the space.

Magnetophone combine delicate, gently twinkling melodies with the occasional blast of pummeling bass notes. Mid-set a pounding bass beat jacked things up a gear or two before the duo settled things back down.

Next up, I squeezed into the packed Factory Club to catch Justice Yeldham. It's hard to describe this guy. Well, it's not - what's hard is trying to explain why a man shouting and screaming into a piece of glass (hooked up to a belt of effects modules) is so compelling. The show ended after 15 wide-eyed, slack-jawed minutes the pane had been smashed and bitten into too small a piece to continue. Extraordinary.

I discovered Efterklang a week before the festival when I was trying to learn a little about the bands I'd be seeing. I fell hard for the glacial charms of their latest album, Parades, making this band the one I was most excited about seeing. I'm relieved to say they didn't let me down. Sigur Ros, Arcade Fire and the Polyphonic Spree provide touchstones to their sound - their chorus of voices lends an uplifting quality to their imaginative, experimental indieness. They fully deserved the longest and warmest round of applause of the weekend.

After a brief sit-down in the Theatre to see some 7 Inch Cinema-curated films, including an innovative take on a live-performance of Sun Ra, I made my way over to see Oxbow. I'm not really sure I remember what they sounded like. I was concentrating too much on the mesmeric presence of frontman Eugene Robinson. Coming on stage in a suit, staring mad-eyed and lurching about performing a punch-drunk haka, the sense of awe in the room was palpable, even when he stripped down to vest and pants later on.

Fuck Buttons were up next - two guys facing each other across a table covered with an assortment of electrical items, any or all of which created a huge noise that wavered between distortion and melody. It took a second for me to get used to it but it was compelling and exciting stuff when I did.

Although I caught a little of Harvey Milk afterwards, my Saturday at Supersonic was capped by an impressive performance by Battles. Their intricate sound left me a little cold at times - music for the head more than anything - but the times they clicked (especially on Atlas) were sensational. John Stanier is possibly the hardest working drummer I've ever seen and the others were no musical slouches either. However, bearing in mind the consideration and complexity Battles put into their songs, it was the aggression in their stage act took me aback.

Sunday

Einstellung don't do banter. They don't even have microphones on stage. Instead they envelop their audiences with powerful waves of noise. There's a hypnotic feel and a warmth to Einstellung which provides a great way of easing into the final day of Supersonic 2008.

Max Tundra started in fine style, asking 'Any metallers in the house?' Someone in the crowd: 'YEAARGH! METAL!' which Max took as his cue to kick off a set of fun electro-prog-pop. Samples a-plenty (including a Tim Westwood intro), lashings of bleeps, beats and bass and a charismatic stage presence made for a feel-good performance from probably the most accessible act on the bill.

Parts & Labor drew an impressive audience, with people being urged to squeeze up a little to make room for the people clustered outside the marquee. Their popularity was well deserved too - the Brooklyn quartet whipped up frantic drumming and squalling guitars into a surprisingly digestible mix.

After this I sat in on talks by Yukio Fujimoto and Brian Duffy. The former managing to conjure tiny and beautiful symphonies from three pocket calculators, the latter demonstrating a mind-blowing mix of childish glee and high intellect.

My musical horizons expanded somewhat, I wandered over to see Earth. However, their slow moving, low-end sounds weren't what my fizzed-up head needed so I went to discover Red Sparowes instead. There was no shortage of low-end frequencies here either, but it was fired rather with rather more energy, resembling a post-rock sonic assault.

Speaking of assault, the prospect of a huge, topless Canadian guy hurling himself at you may not appeal but Fucked Up's singer Pink Eyes got up close and personal with a few enthusiastic fans and turned in some straight-up hardcore punk with gags, cartwheels and blood (crushing cans on your head will do that). I can't be certain, but I think the ringing in my ears started around about here.

A complete change of pace followed, as I caught the last 30 minutes of a screening of classic vampire flick Nosferatu with a live score composed by Grandmaster Gareth of Misty's Big Adventure and Matt Eaton of Pram. I only wish I'd seen it from the start as the music was fantastically evocative and leant extra depth to the legendary silent film.

Having seen Brian Duffy's talk earlier I was looking forward to seeing his ZX Spectrum Orchestra perform. The time, effort and dedication that goes into tweaking and programming the very basic computer hardware for their shows is incredible - it took 6 weeks to make a certain tone of beep! Geek credentials were reinforced at every turn during a fun and remarkably varied set.

From knockabout fun to atmospheric rock - unfortunately Gravetemple started late and spent an awfully long time playing the same note whilst shrouded in dry ice. After 15 minutes I took my leave, as did several others. I appreciate this may not have been a slight on the band however, as a trio of legends were about to take to the other stage.

I know very little about krautrock. What I do know is that although Harmonia's last album was recorded in 1976, the sounds they were making wouldn't have been out of place in a club in 2008. Starting with gently layered sounds and introducing stronger, more percussive beats later on, Harmonia's set soothed at first before escalating stealthily into giddy space symphonies.

So an excellent and eclectic Supersonic drew to a close, leaving a satisfied and pleasantly-rattled audience to return to every day life. The organisers' credentials as curators of the highest quality secured for another year....

Live - The Mighty Boosh Festival

Wed, 16 Jul 2008 13:52:00 GMT

The 11:30 train to Paddock Wood on a Saturday morning would normally, I imagine, contain a scattered group of people visiting their mothers, some bored kids, and a couple of dotty old men of the type who write outraged letters to the Kent Gazette every time a truck drives through the village. On this particular gusty Saturday morning, these good folk were probably wondering why their quiet little train was filled with odd people in gold lycra jumpsuits, fur coats, and blacked out faces, and in a couple of cases, probably deciding whether they were more outraged or mortified, and deciding exactly which factors shouldn�t be allowed.

After making the trek towards the farm (�Oh I won�t take the bus, a 15 minute walk isn�t that long! Oh, you actually meant 45 minutes�), I find Christopher trying to make his press pass look obvious to passing nubile lycra-clad festival goers while simultaneously giving the impression that having a press pass is something which happens to him so often that it�s getting really rather dull. It�s not dull. It�s great. We were wearing orange wristbands, which automatically makes us cooler than you. Yes, YOU.

Ahem. We arrived just in time for the opening act, the frankly baffling Polar Bear. Well, I suppose it might have been less baffling had I been familiar with the cello, mandolin and saxophone driven synth-backed free jazz scene, but I missed that article in Smash Hits last year. The result was a conversation with Christopher which went something like �I don�t get it.� �Well, it�s jazz, innit.� �It seems good.� �I wish I could tell whether the drummer is supposed to be speeding up and slowing down like that.� Overall poll said: This is great! It�s so experimental! Yeah, is that the right thing to say...? Brilliant!

Then we tried to find the media tent. No-one knew where it was, no-one knew where they were, no-one cared. By that point we�d seen more lycra than anyone should have to deal with on a hot day, and one sock stuffed down a lady�s lycra suit which had migrated considerably from its intended location. Ew.

Aha! Small tent in the strange limbo between �In� and �Out� of the backstage area � this had to be it. After Christopher had reprimanded me in a hissing undertone for taking as many free cans of coke out of the complimentary fridge as I could carry, we hung around vaguely looking for famous people. Didn�t take long � soon we see Tim Burgess wandering around being amiable. Our slightly baffled looking PR guy assured us that we were definitely in line for an interview, so during the resulting wait, we listened to Robots In Disguise from a distance. Very good, strident yet tuneful angry girl music of the indie-rock variety. Wish we could have seen them actually performing.

Eventually we wander back in to see what�s going on, to see a very tired Tim, and a PR guy looking at us with the expression of someone who�s sure he�s seen us somewhere before. Upon enquiry, Tim was no longer doing interviews, but if we hung around then there might be an opportunity with The Kills. We looked at the Kills, thickly surrounded by media and presenting a picture remarkably like the cover of White Blood Cells. In the distance, we hear the atrocious compere announcing White Denim. Sod this, we both decided, we could be stuck in this tent all day.

So we pottered out to see White Denim, and an excellent choice it proved to be. Describing their act as the �first rock and roll act they�d seen today� they launched into an eclectic stream of guitar consciousness which seemed to owe less to rock and roll and more to the auditory hallucinations commonly associated with schizophrenia. The songs migrated apparently randomly between the instruments, with vocals being added thoughtfully, provocatively, and possibly at random. The genius of the whole thing was how three incredibly different looking guys who seemed utterly unaware of each other could come on, play unrelated musical parts, and still convince the audience they weren't members of different bands who�d got their set times mixed up. It was great, though. With moments of real old school seventies soul mixed in with other moments of unrelated indie madness and good old fashioned rock and roll, the whole thing was astonishingly convincing. Fans of the Guillemots should note that these guys are kind of like them, but actually good.

At this point, we decide to see if we can actually talk to any of the artists � after all, we were important people now. Back to the press tent! And yes, there are people � namely Robots In Disguise.

�But we don�t know anything about them!� I hiss under my breath to Christopher as we�re ushered over. �Aren�t they from Liverpool or something? And how come there�s three of them, I thought there were only supposed to be two?�

�We�ll make it up! And don�t forget to tell them what a great set they did!�

�But we didn�t see them!�

�So?�

Turns out that they�d been put through so many interviews already that they practically interviewed themselves, allowing us enough time to saunter out back to the field. As Christopher wandered over to the comedy tent, I settled myself down for The Kills and Gary Numan.

The Kills rocked. As Jamie Hince stood in a carefully perfected blues pose looking cool as hell, Alison Mosshart stalked around the stage, the wind whipping her hair and cloak around like a valkyrie, looking cool as hell. The music was low, driving and powerful blues-based psych-rock of the dark basement kind. Most crowdgoers didn�t seem to know what to do with this unfamiliarly unjangly stuff, so adopted the traditional shoe-gazing, body-rocking motion associated with the more extreme end of the psychedelic stoner concerts, then went a bit mad for the occasional fast bits. As a fan of low energy music which makes you feel semi-conscious and a little like someone�s drugged you and stolen your wallet, I loved this set. I have to admit to having felt a little sceptical at how this sort of music would translate to a field full of festival going hysterical kids, but as usual my worry was neither warranted nor needed.

Since I seemed to have lost my brother, I decided to hang around for Gary Numan, with the uncomfortable feeling that I might be the only person in the field old enough to remember anything about him at all. I needn�t have worried. Looking like a goth skater and acting like a gay icon, Gary was loving every minute of his festival time, and since most of the kids were at least familiar with the modern take on what Gary had helped to start, and since all the girls probably bought Sugababes as their very first album when they were 10, the whole set went down with an energy which lit up the whole field. When �Cars� was played, the field went mental. When �Are Friends Electric� came up, there was a really entertaining interlude of lots of people jumping up and down going �Omigod I love this song!�, then stopping, looking at each other in bafflement, bopping up and down in a puzzled sort of way, and then, in some cases, the penny dropping with a bang. It was great. The whole set was great. I love Gary. I was discovered and rescued by Christopher as I stood in the press tent afterwards dancing nervously from foot to foot muttering �He�s there! He�s there! Wow...�, hustling me quickly out before I made a complete tit of myself.

So far, it had been a great day for music. Every act had been different, but equally good. We were about ready for a slightly disappointing set, and I�m sorry to say that The Charlatans filled the gap admirably. It�s not that I have anything against them. They seem like a lovely group of fellas, and I�d really want to have a drink with Tim, who dedicated one of the songs to �the group of girls who just broke into my dressing room�, bless him. But the trouble is, "amiable britpop" doesn�t really stand up to an hour long set after you�ve just heard some really awesome stuff. They played their well known stuff; people enjoyed it; we particularly enjoyed their most recent single, although possibly not in the expected way. Here�s a game for you � the next time you hear �The Misbegotten�, try singing �Blue Monday� over the top of it, complete with introductory synth, words, phrasing, everything. It fits perfectly, to a hilariously entertaining degree. It�s a good song, but I prefer the original. We spent most of the set sitting on the grass chatting, during which we were entertaining the idea of Tim Burgess bumping into Jarvis Cocker, who was around the festival doing a DJ Set. (�Tim.� �Jarvis.� �Still going I see.� �Yes, yes. You?� �Yeah, you know how it is...�).

So as I hung around for the Peaches DJ set (awesome � you just keep watching her to see what she�ll do next), Christopher pottered back to comedy again. The Mighty Boosh Band set was somewhat delayed due mostly, I think, to their astonishing pyrotechnics. I unfortunately missed most of the opening due to being rammed into a crowed of annoyed photographers near the front of the stage who weren�t allowed on, mostly, and quite unreasonably I thought, because we might get set on fire. Eventually things kicked off however, and madness ensued. Half the time I couldn�t really take photos because I was too busy laughing. I consider myself to be the winner nevertheless, as Noel and Julian wandered about doing pastiches on every form of music known to man (or at least to them), with guest appearances by most of the people who�d already played, and co-star Rich Fulcher wandering around dressed as everything from a silver robot with an extendible... er, well, anyway, to some kind of something dispensing funk out of nipples all over his body.

If I was writing this under any other kind of circumstances, my doctor could probably use this review in my psychiatric report. The most pleasant surprise for me was discovering that Julian Barratt could actually play pretty good jazz guitar. Cool. The rest of the time was hilarity and fun and generally just jolly good laughs for all. There�s no point in reviewing the Boosh Band as a band, but as an act I�d definitely recommend them.

As we pottered over to the car, we worried vaguely about the fact that the last train had already left from the station, there were very few cars in the car park, and most of the festival goers had the look of those who didn�t realise that night buses didn�t exist in the countryside. Then we went home.

...

Live - Mugison, Alem Da Lemda, The 7.20's

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 15:20:00 GMT

The bijou surroundings of Birmingham's Bar Academy were to be the stage for a rather eclectic mix of musical personnel and melodic stylings this evening, encompassing elements from Iceland, the Balkans, the Netherlands, the UK, California and the dusty heat of America's Deep South.

Proceedings kicked off with a credible set from the British contingent in the form of The 7.20's who, with five members to the band, had the unfortunate task of playing to an audience who only outnumbered them by a ratio of 2:1. Despite the low body count on the punter front, The 7.20's delivered a tight and polished set of anthemic tunes that took a pinch of Doves and a smidgen of U2 and delivered a big noise that wouldn't have felt out of place in a bigger venue.

While they never strayed far from the tried and tested path of radio-friendly indie rock, they proved themselves to be a worthwhile opener to the evening's shenanigans and they certainly deserve to be appreciated by a bigger crowd next time round.

Next up were Alem Da Lemda, a Hungarian/ Dutch three-piece who rocked out with their tongues firmly planted in their cheeks. With a penchant for bass-driven funk rock, they clearly took their cue from early Red Hot Chili Peppers material and indeed their second song 'Love Train' practically leapt from the tracks to land on rails previously travelled by the Chilis' 'Love Rollercoaster' (but they did earn brownie points for successfully initiating a clap-along chorus so early in the evening).

Whilst their efforts were undoubtedly cheesier than a Stilton factory in a heat wave, their goofy, good natured jams had a fair few of the audience cracking wry smiles and stealthily tapping their toes. Whilst I won't be rushing out to buy their album any time soon, I'd certainly give them an 'A' for effort (even if they did copy their homework from Anthony Kiedis and Flea).

Finally, with the initially sparse crowd beginning to swell to a mid-sized gathering, it was time for the main attraction. Utilising a full band rather than the usual one-man-and-a-laptop approach, the Mugison we saw this evening were a sonic maelstrom of guitars, synths and gravelly blues vocals with a peppering of brass sucked into the whirlwind for good measure.

By the time the opening bars of 'Mugiboogie' came careering out of the speakers like an out-of-control freight train, the Bar Academy crowd had an inkling they were on to a good thing. As soon as �rn El�as Gu�mundsson had unleashed his first guttural howl in to the darkness, we were sold.

Transporting us a million miles away from the barren chill of their Icelandic homeland Mugison proved that their hearts truly belong somewhere lodged deep in the sun-baked dustbowl of the Mississippi delta. Lurching from swaggering blues, to melodic country-tinged ballads to balls-out rock 'n' roll, these Viking warriors gleefully evoked the likes of the Soledad Brothers, The North Mississippi Allstars and even Hendrix when they hit their stride.

Along the way Gu�mundsson served up a side-order of witty banter including his hazy recollection of a drunken month spent in Birmingham 8 years ago which culminated in a "brutal seeing to" by a bunch of nubile young nurses. Noting the youthful quartet of female fans down the front, he cheekily threw in "Sorry if one of them was your mum".

Highlights of the set included gloriously sleazy crowd pleaser 'Jesus is a Good Name to Moan', the soulful blues guitar of 'The Pathetic Anthem' and a sing-along rendition of 'The Sweetest Melody' that got the crowd enthusiastically chipping in with the moody chorus.

But it was when Mugison unleashed their dark side on tracks such as riff-heavy rock monster 'Two Thumb Sucking Son of a Boyo' and perennial favourite 'Murr Murr' that they really hit the jackpot, assaulting the senses like rolling Tennessee thunder.

By the end of their set Mugison had delivered a satisfyingly energetic performance that truly left me with a hunger for the blues. By the time the lights came on I was already scrolling through my ipod in search of a Robert Johnson album for the slow walk home.

If you like your Icelandic exports glacially cool and ethereally strange then you're probably better of sticking to Sigur R�s, however if you've got a hankering for down-and-dirty blues rock or you're planning to sell your soul to the devil at the crossroads, screw Alabama, downtown Reykjavik is clearly where it's at.

...

Live - My Bloody Valentine

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 21:35:00 GMT

Looking around the familiar surroundings of Glasgow's most celebrated large-scale music venue, it's hard to put a number on the average age of tonight's audience. However, a conservative guess suggests most of the gathered throng are reliving their formative music years while some look like they haven't set foot in a gig since the last time Kevin Shields, Belinda Butcher, Debbie Googe and Colm � C�os�ig took to a stage in Western Scotland. Many are wearing a telling pair of earplugs and have an anxious look on their faces...and with good reason.

Within seconds of taking the stage (and standing alarmingly apart from one another), the foursome tear into the colossal wall of fuzz that made them famous, sparking teeth-grit-in-a-grin ear trauma / treats in equal measure. Belinda takes a stance on the far left of the stage, apparently not a day older and decked in a striking white suit, her breathy vocals shining through. Meanwhile, Kevin skulks around the right hand side of the stage. Only Debbie and Colm appear to be talking to each other and nobody, nobody is talking to the audience at all.

A few tracks in, part of the audience become restless with some fresh faces apparently failing to be converted. Meanwhile, it becomes apparent that a number of MBV wives made a big mistake saying they'd accompany their husband to anything if they'd go to see 'Sex and the City' with them. However, the silent, mesmerised majority are transfixed by sheer volume.

The biggest cheer of the night is reserved, unsurprisingly for the late arrival of 'Soon', hands down the most popular and best played song of the night and only a short while before the much-heralded, much-criticised 'extended' version of possibly their finest single 'You Made Me Realize'.

It aint big. It aint clever, but as the song fizzles out and the charred remains are kicked about by a full twenty nine minutes of white noise, it becomes clear that everyone assembled is glad to be able to say 'I was there when MBV played their noise tape! I survived!' Yes, it's here where art nudges rock 'n' roll firmly out the door kicking and screaming like a petulant child - or the sound of a guitar being hammered with a breezeblock. Mr Turner, another prize over here if you please!

...

Live - Kathleen Edwards / Jim Bryson

Thu, 03 Jul 2008 14:52:00 GMT

Live - Kathleen Edwards, Jim Bryson As well as playing in Kathleen's backing band, Jim Bryson is a performer in his own right with three albums to his name and this isn't his first visit to Birmingham. He's an affable chap, not afraid to goof around between (and during) songs; chatting with the audience, making the odd mistake and throwing shakers to drummer Joel Anderson, who he brings on mid-set.

'Somewhere Else' and 'Sleeping In Toronto' were the stand-out tracks from a well-above-average support set. For the final track the rest of the Kathleen Edwards support band were brought on stage and the full-blooded sound gave a tantalising hint of what was to come.

I was only introduced to Kathleen Edwards' music a few months ago and her most recent album has become a firm favourite on my stereo. Describing her to people can be tricky though - partly because so many musical crimes have been committed under the banner of 'country-rock' but also because quality songwriting such as hers can have a slow-burn appeal.

What came through very well in this live setting was the playfulness in the songs. 'I Make The Dough...' is a quirky enough song but hearing the story behind the video and her explanation of ice-hockey goon/enforcer Marty McSorley's influence and involvement was brilliant. She teased Bryson for slipping up and even laughed off an impromptu dash from that stage.

The first highlight of the evening (and there were a few) came a few songs in with 'Oil Man's War', a portrait of a draft-dodger's escape with his fiancee, leant power by her concentration on the personal aspects of the story. There was no joking about here - just an earnest and strongly observed tale of a couple doing what they had to to stay together.

I'm not generally bothered about 'authenticity' in my music but on the bitter 'Asking For Flowers' when she leaned into the mic, screwed her eyes closed and sang 'every time I poured my heart out' I got a tingle down my spine that no amount of Joe Leans or Pigeon Detectives could achieve.

All the while Kathleen was flitting between lightness and gritty honesty the band kept up a solid backing. Special mention must go to Kathleen's husband and guitarist Colin Cripps - a gentle giant of a man who, when not tearing up a guitar onstage, looks much more likely to be hand-building timber lodges in the Rockies.

She apologised for struggling with a cold and not being able to sing as well as she'd have liked. In truth, her voice only faltered slightly on the quieter songs - in particular on the higher notes of the unreleased 'I Can't Give You Up'. The rest of the time any flaws were either unapparent or I mistook them for emotional catches.

The setlist, which comprised a gutsy 'The Cheapest Key', a corruscating 'Oh Canada' and a swinging and stomping 'Back To Me' was brought home with an encore which included a beautiful cover of 'Only Love Can Break Your Heart'. Why Kathleen doesn't yet perform in bigger settings is beyond me but I'm glad to have caught the real deal in such a small setting - her time is surely coming.

Photo by Ursula Roxy Aitchison...

Live - The Zutons / Fionn Regan / Noah & The Whale

Mon, 30 Jun 2008 15:34:00 GMT

The Glastonbury coverage was making me feel a little jealous so an escape to Cannock Forest (sited on Cannock Chase - owner of the dubious title of 'smallest Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty on mainland Britain') was very welcome. Making use of a natural bowl, many took the chance to have a nice sit-down from a good vantage point while checking out the support.

Playing when I arrived were Noah & The Whale - among the leading lights of the new folk scene. Garbed mainly in yellow and blue, their upbeat, bluegrass-y, sunshine melodies suited the occasion nicely, although singer Charlie often sounds a little like his cat's just been run over which dampens the jauntiness a little.

Next up, was Fionn Regan. The Irish singer/songwriter was accompanied throughout most of his set by a guitarist and drummer, although they departed briefly to allow a few songs to be done solo. Again, it was a pleasant-enough set and stepped up the rockiness from the opening act. That said, without being previously being a Regan fan none of the songs stuck with me much - critical acclaim for his debut suggests I need to sit down and give him a proper listen.

Until this point the majority of the crowd had been happy sitting and enjoying the surroundings in the late-evening sun. There was no particular hurry for the main act to appear and, with a fair number of families in attendance, there was a relaxed and friendly atmosphere.

When The Zutons hit the stage, to swirling lights and the sound of tablas, everyone took to their feet. The band kicked off with 'Zuton Fever' and 'Don't Ever Think (Too Much)' and followed with a setlist that covered material from all three studio albums.

The show's highlight was the two-pronged attack of 'Valerie' (with tongue-in-cheek shout out to Mark Ronson) and 'Always Right Behind You', the latter of which provoked the whole field into dancing and shaking - and that's no exaggeration; turning round to see everyone on the slopes towards the back of the field moving to the music was an impressive site.

An encore of 'Pressure Point' and 'You Will You Won't' brought things to a close, with the band lining up for a theatrical bow on the lip of the stage. The Zutons aren't a complicated band - they're upbeat, poppy, fun and right not to be ashamed of that. For a few hours I even forgot about what was going on in a muddy corner of Somerset.

Photo by Ursula Roxy Aitchison....

Live - Idle Tigers

Mon, 30 Jun 2008 13:49:00 GMT

Idle Tigers are a one man band fronted by spiritualist vessel and sole member of the vaudevillian electro avant-garde - Ross Hawkins. Tonight�s show at The Blue Anchor is a low-key friends and associates only affair.

Hawkins is, by turns, both charming and slightly self-deprecating - a hesitant raconteur and remains somewhat awkward throughout the night�s performance of comedic fables of catfish, whales, ghost channelling mediums and Lord Byron infused esoterica. Dressed as a refugee from the sound of music, this evening's songs are drawn largely from his recently released debut album 'The Spirit Salon'. However, included are a couple of new songs that bode well for the future and suggest that Idle Tigers have been far from idle over the summer months.

Among the sets highlights were a thrilling version of 'Jonah', a dramatic reading of 'Light Entertainer In Prison' and the surprise guest appearance of Alaska Blue, who added her Sarah Nixey-esque vocal to a rather shambolic version of 'My Girlfriend Was Insulted By A Futurist Artist'. These retro electro pop experiments are indebted to the earlier sonic explorations of Nick Currie�s Momus' 'Stars Forever' album, surely no coincidence then that Currie was in the audience for tonight�s show? This was light entertainment for the s�ance fraternity, a leftfield pop thrill that was a refreshing alternative to the indie rock brigade. Idle Tigers are still burning bright in the urban jungle of the London night. ...

Live - Laura Marling / Melodica, Melody & Me

Sun, 22 Jun 2008 19:45:00 GMT

There was much that was unusual about this gig. Seeing a credible artist playing a small church was one such. Seeing the heads of a couple of hundred keen gig-goers poking out from the high-backed ranks of pews was another. St Paul's Church is a beautiful building nestled slightly away from the city centre among trendy bars and the offices of small professional businesses.

First on stage were Melodica, Melody and Me; a six-strong, rag-tag folk-plus-the-kitchen-sink ensemble who happy-clapped their way through a smattering of styles in a generally upbeat and pleasing way. Unfortunately, at least from where I was sat up on the balcony, the venue's acoustics didn't flatter them. The exchanged boy-girl vocals were a little lost, for one and things were generally a little 'muddy' sounding.

Still, there was a lovely atmosphere in the place and everyone clapped appreciatively. They were a fine enough support act and I can imagine them being excellent playing the sort of Big Chill/Latitude/laidback folky-style of festival this summer. Just add sunshine and booze.

The main event followed swiftly. Laura Marling crept onstage alone; not that there could be any hiding in such a brightly-lit venue. She's become a little more confident since I last saw her, although I have to emphasis the 'bit'. The modesty, self-deprecation and nervously careful chat are still there but she's slightly more expansive - clearly chuffed and at greater ease with the smaller venues she's playing on this tour.

I was surprised to hear that Laura Marling was planning to tour a handful of church venues around the country. Delighted, obviously - I'm nothing if not a Marling fanboy, of course - but, given that religion and the Church get a bit of a shoeing in her lyrics, I was surprised.

The setlist was peppered with new songs with the first coming early on. The opening track, an ever-delicate 'Shine', preceded an un-introduced new one that may or may not have the words 'Forgive Me' in the title.

The band sauntered on stage, stalwart Marcus Mumford on drums, an excellently angular violinist and others on keys and bass. The following version of 'Ghosts' was fine but didn't quite catch as it could've done. There was something slightly off in the sound - maybe the acoustics again, maybe the arrangement, I'm not sure.

Two new tracks followed, the first being pleasant enough, the second providing the first slack-jawed, hairs-on-the-back-of the-neck moment. I've no idea what the song was called and now can't remember what it was about, but it balanced sophisticated themes and straightforward emotional weight in just the same way that made Laura's debut album so remarkable.

Having 'suffered' the new songs we were rewarded with 'My Manic & I' and the ponderously portentous (in a good way) 'Old Stone'. If these leant a sombre atmosphere to the evening, the mood wasn't lifted immediately, with another pair of unfamiliar songs, one of which was titled 'Rebecca' and performed solo.

Soon enough, though, we were given a rousing finale to send us on our way. 'You're No God' benefitted from the surroundings (predictably enough) and Cross Your Fingers bounced handsomely along. Laura endearingly brushed off the pretence of an encore and instead sent us off with a stomp/clap/whoop and holler version of 'Alas I Cannot Sing' to send us on our merry way.

So in many ways an unusual gig but a resounding success nonetheless. What's more, I know there are tentative plans being hatched to see if the church can't be used as Birmingham's new home of nu-folk - a scene that's simultaneously taking off and putting down roots at the moment....

Live - Elbow / Fleet Foxes

Thu, 19 Jun 2008 13:42:00 GMT

Washington�s Fleet Foxes have created quite a buzz after performing only a handful of shows here in England away from their home in the Emerald City. They take to the stage looking like a pre-costume Black Crowes and immediately start up a comedic routine that Reeves and Mortimer would kill for before striking up the most wonderful of four part harmonies. They have often been compared to Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, but tonight, on songs such as �White Winter Hymnal�, they appear more like Simon and Garfunkel.

They produce a stunning country gothic sound, all percussive toms and organ, with some intrepid guitar parts that the great Johnny Marr would be proud of. When we live in a time of abundant Americana in a myriad of forms it�s refreshing to see Fleet Foxes bringing something unique and original to the equation in the form of a mild psychedelic tinge. It suggests they not only listen to The Byrds and Buffalo Springfield but they have also ingested a few Pebbles albums along the way. Honourary mentions must be made of the wit and wisdom of their singing drummer�s merciless dead pan delivery acting as the perfect foil for lead vocalist Robin Pecknold�s lighter asides before cracking up laughing several times. This was an example in showmanship and their natural warmth and ability effortlessly won the crowd over and easily justified any perceived hype. If you love The Polyphonic Spree, Mercury Rev and The Flaming Lips you�d better make way in your record collection for these new foxy kids on the block. Tally ho!

This left headliners Elbow with rather a tough act to follow, but follow it they did in fine style. With a confidence drawn from picking up several rave reviews for new album �The Seldom Seen Kid�, they kicked off proceedings in a somewhat bombastic style. Naturally this leads to a worry that Guy Garvey may metamorphise into Bono at any second. Thankfully, initial fears were unfounded after a string of highly emotive show-stopping ballads that demonstrated not only Garvey�s remarkable voice, but what a sensitive nature he has for such a giant of a man. "Awesome" does not truly do justice to tonight�s performance, and just as a thrilled crowd thought it could not possibly get any better than this, the band invite a full blown choir on stage to join them. They're joined by several string players who accompany the band through a collective mixture of minor hits, near misses and album highlights. When at one point in the proceedings assorted band members each pick up a trumpet and mime playing with much hilarity, the audience are left looking bemused and bewildered. Looking up to the 'Gods', a stealth brass section eventually reveal themselves after being hidden away in the boxes either side of the stage. This was showmanship at its best. In a night of Highlights, of which there were many, �Mirrorball� was simply stunning, as was �Firstborn� and album showstopper �Starlings�.

Elbow and Fleet Foxes played as part of the Meltdown Festival curated by Massive Attack

...

Live - Diane Cluck / Emmy the Great / Younghusband

Wed, 18 Jun 2008 22:13:00 GMT

First it was on, then off due to the original promoter pulling out at the last minute. Luckily for us New York singer, songwriter Diane Cluck showed enough ..err pluck (ok you can sack me now!!) in getting herself over to the UK and the show was back on again.

First on tonights bill are Younghusband, who consist of Emmy The Great collaborator Euan Hinshelwood and his new cohorts, bassist Joe Chilton and drummer Adam Lambert. This show is a bit of a gamble for the lads as they have only been together as a band for a couple of weeks. Euan isn�t a stranger to playing these small/medium sized venues as he has opened for Emmy several times but usually it�s an acoustic fare where he rolls out tried and tested songs that he�s been peddling for a couple of years, this time it�s a brand new set and a brand new band, promoting a brand new E.P�..and it rocks. Gone are the alt folk styling�s of yore replaced by the lo � fi, fuzz sound of �Mass Kiss� and the heavy, psychedelic �French Grammar� which still manages to sound �spaced out� even without the multilayered, backward guitar effects that are used in the latest recordings. The short set climaxed in a storming rendition of the relatively new song �Alexander� which must be in line to be a future single. All in all a great start for this newly formed band.

Even when playing things relatively low key, which she undoubtedly was tonight (possibly in an effort not to upstage her guest headliner), there is something utterly mesmerising about Emma Lee Moss and her gentle folk songs, most of which are laced with a dark, almost twisted sense of humour. Crowd favourites �M.I.A�, �We Almost Had A Baby� and �Gabriel� are lovingly despatched whilst Emmy and her �High Men� (various members of The Mules, Stars Of Sunday League and support act Younghusband) have fun with guitar tuning problems, joke about hair styles and behave on stage like they are playing to a room full of close friends. It is refreshing to see a band who appear to enjoy themselves as much as the audience and Emmy The Great put in another performance that will help cement their reputation as a must see band of 2008.

Unfortunately due to �having to get the last train home� syndrome (which hardly seems right seeing the amount of effort she put in getting here) I only get to see one song by Diane Cluck. Playing on her own, a slight figure dressed in jeans and a white t, Diane�s song(s) share the same barbed folk styling�s as Emmy The Great, her delivery, however, couldn�t be more different. Routed to the spot, looking slightly nervy, you could hardly see her lips move as she sung. You could hear her though and what I was hearing was very, very good indeed so I was more than reluctant to drag myself away at that juncture. However eventually I had to promise myself that I would catch Diane Cluck when she visits again and head off to metroland having had a great, although almost cruelly cut short , night.

...

Live - Cage The Elephant / The Brightlights / The Little Kicks

Wed, 18 Jun 2008 21:26:00 GMT

The fact it takes me a good three or four songs to recognise The Little Kicks tonight beggars belief considering the nice things I've had to say about them in the past. However, considering the three or four pints I enjoyed with tonight's curry, it's becoming a wonder I can recognise anything at all. But good music can always kick a hole through a drunken (and becoming drunker) haze and unfortunately this band's constant quest to doggedly follow a tired zeitgeist means they should consider a name change to The Little Kooks based on tonight's performance. "This might be a single" mumbles singer Stevie Milne before rolling out another unremarkable track. Adapt to survive by all means guys, but it'll take a considerably more inventive sound if you're to finally break out of Aberdeen.

Of course, these days you break yourself by winning a competition. That's what The Brightlights did when they won the recent Road to V contest, the prize for which is to open the main stage at V - a million miles away from tonight's dingy Northern venue where they appear to be at the mercy of the sound desk as their sound is well and clearly drowned. A quick "Aberdeen, how you doing?" is picked up by precious few of the crowd and the band have little time to milk the indifference before another track enjoys an emotion bypass through sheer volume and it takes yet another track before the mixer finally picks up the fact there's a piano on stage.

At the same time they begin to find some favour with a boozy Saturday night crowd and soon half full glasses of beer are raised in appreciation, the other hands presumably cocked to their ears as they try to discern the sound underneath unnecessarily stentorian drums. With a quick shout for their hometown Grimsby they unleash their final track which comes across like an Oasis track that even the Gallaghers would dismiss for sounding a little obvious. While the crowd were largely indifferent tonight, The Brightlights ought to find favour with the crowd at V, perhaps the most commercial of all festivals and the spiritual home of tired Britpop. But there is very little hope for bands who aspire to sound like Oasis or The Verve unless you actually are the bands themselves...and who would want that?

Kentucky's Cage the Elephant are tipped to hit the Top 40 with new single 'Aint No Rest For The Wicked' and with comparisons to the inxeplicably popular Kings of Leon rife in Internetland it's not surprising. Tonight they emerge saluting a bottle of beer and jet off into complete mayhem, startlingly not returned by a placid crowd - largely non-plussed by the antics of lead singer Matt Schulz who spends little time on the stage and more perched on amps, tables and swinging from the odd chandelier.

Their sound is the embodiment of American rock, at turns the straight up blues rock of The White Stripes and others the weedy flash-in-the-pan sound of Paramore or Panic at the Disco. With only a small front row section of the crowd really getting into them it's a wonder what brought the majority of Drummonds' clientele in tonight. Perhaps it was the promise of the new single, but, for many tonight, this wasn't a gig they'll tell their Grandchildren about.

...

Live - Lipstick Gypsies / Deeds Of The Nameless / Vehicles / Metrognome

Sun, 08 Jun 2008 23:11:00 GMT

I understand that educational exploits get in the way of Metrognome practising and gigging extensively which is a shame because they show promise. They're notching up support acts at some decent venues and only just missed out on the mobileAct unsigned band competition/Channel 4 show.

Not that everything started perfectly. The first couple of songs weren't great and nor was the sound. There was precious little dynamism too, but movement and performance come with confidence on stage and this is a band still in its early stages. Anyway, they loosened up a little and showed off some pretty impressive musicianship too.The final three songs showed a progression from their stock Arctic Monkeys/Dirty Pretty Things sound and I reckon that given a bit of time to develop their own voice, they could be a band to sit up and pay attention to.

Next up were The Vehicles who at least had a better name than the first act. They seemed a lot more confident on stage and, while they traded on slightly inspiration-free riffage, they were fine. If I sound a little underwhelmed then I don't mean to - I don't think I'd pay to see them again but I certainly wouldn't begrudge seeing them as a support act somewhere.

Deeds Of The Nameless were fun and one of the least categorisable outfits I've seen recently. Ok, so broadly it was rock music, and they'd have reminded me of Rocket From The Crypt if it wasn't for the odd bit of effete harmonisation and playful invention. The bassist provided the most fun, generally rocking out like he was headlining Wembley every time the camera was pointed in his general direction.

Headliners for this well-supported Disco Monkey Records showcase were Lipstick Gypsies who have been starting to make a good name for themselves around the West Mids scene. They were accomplished, slick and enjoyable, although the Alex Turner-style inflections grated after a short while. I can handle the occasional bandwagon-jump though, and the band had some whip-smart tunes to make up for it.

All in all then, the night was a chance for four bands at varying, early stages to show what they're about and, bearing in mind that my critical faculties would be set a lot higher if they were playing the Academy, they were all pretty good....

Live - Santogold

Tue, 03 Jun 2008 20:38:00 GMT

As we wander up the stairs into the cramped, sweaty confines of Birmingham�s Bar Academy, the warm-up DJ belts out a mash-up of tunes from every corner of the musical sphere. Dizzee Rascal mixed into The Smiths, NWA mashed with reggae, then sprinkled with a dash of trip-hop, every beat has its place.

The warm-up is the perfect introduction to Santogold, encapsulating the myriad of urban, post-punk and experimental influences that encompass her genre-busting attack on music. The music is eclectic, and it�s reflected by the crowd; composed of indie kids, punks, hip-hop boys, and all sorts.

For the uninitiated, Santogold is the solo project of Santi White, daughter to a high-falluting lawyer and African-American singer songwriter from Philadelphia perpetually compared (with justification) to M.I.A. Or, if you believe her piss-takey myspace, �Composed of absolutely no members, Santogold is also the first musical outfit capable of claiming the planet�s broiling collective consciousness as their front woman.� You may even remember her from such albums as Mark Ronson�s �Version�, where she sang The Jam cover �Pretty Green�, or even the V05 ad, where her funky, frankly weird, but ace track �The Creator� provides the soundtrack to lots of smug cunts posing.

But back to the gig, Santi wanders on stage with a broad, beaming smile across her face, as she�s greeted rapturously by the standing mass. In total contrast, two female backing-singers stand still beside her; decked in white, shades, and staring eerily still between singing parts and occasional robotic fits into dance. The pair are reminiscent of Public Enemy�s militia wing, although somehow less camp.

Playing the majority of her debut album, Santogold buzzes through the sublime soul-licked �L.E.S. Artistes�, skankin� ska of �Unstoppable�, as well as the aforementioned �The Creator�. Seeing Santogold live isn�t so much a gig, as a festival. Post-punk, dub, grime and nu-soul all have their place within Santi�s eclectic set.

It�s a joyous celebration of everything. Even when Santogold comes back on for the encore and admits she �needs your help, as she can�t remember the words to �My Superman�, nobody cares, they just join along with the �Hey, Hey�s� in the bits she can�t remember.

A cracking little gig in a tiny venue she�ll very soon be too big for.

...

Live - Duffy

Tue, 03 Jun 2008 20:12:00 GMT

You see, gigs are like buses. You wait for ages for something to come along and then two arrive at the same time. So while I went off to watch Ministry play the Manchester Academy as part of their final ever tour, I gave my review tickets for Duffy to my sister (Teri) and her mate (Craig). I asked them to take a few pictures and let me know how it went. The word you are looking for is �nepotism�. The other words you are looking for are �lazy journalism�.

I�ll start by pointing out my own views of Duffy, just in case you feel that they may influence how I have interpreted the information given to me about the way the gig went. I like Duffy. She has a fine voice and makes perfectly acceptable pop music with a Northern Soul tinge. The production of the album is great, she�s got experienced writers and performers such as Bernard Butler working alongside her and unlike Amy Winehouse I can listen to her album without wanting to stab her. If given a choice between her and Ministry I�m more likely to choose Alien every two out of three times, but I would go and see her live. There, got a problem with that you snobby muso�s? No? Right then, moving on�

My sister and her mate know next to nothing about Duffy. They know a couple of her singles and liked them enough to take a couple of freebie tickets to check her out. Other than that they knew nothing about her. The gig was going to be an adventure.

An adventure with no special guests, despite what it said on the ticket. That was their first disappointment of the night. Having arrived at the gig at the time when doors were meant to open they had to wait a full two hours before Duffy arrived on stage. The Ritz isn�t necessarily the place you want to hang around for two hours without some kind of band to entertain you. Well, not unless you want to get very drunk or groped by either students or the shiny shirt brigade and even then that�s on one of their club nights. Still, at least it gave them a chance to do a bit of crowd watching.

That was the second disappointment. Duffy�s young, she does pop, they were expecting the audience to be fairly young too. Not teeny, but at least predominantly in their early twenties. There were some people around that age standing at the front of the stage. The majority of the crowd were in the thirties to forties age bracket, some of them older still. Now you could take that as a positive thing. Duffy is the type of artist who is listened to by a wide range of people. In that way she is like her obvious predecessors, people like Dusty Springfield. The thing is you could also argue that that is part of the problem with her and modern pop. Pop should be youthful. Artist like Amy, Adele, Kooks, Feeling and a whole range of others are essentially Radio Two friendly music that can also be played on Radio One. It doesn�t matter how supposedly controversial the artist is, your mum is as likely to listen to them as you are. Your mum is probably listening to them, and who in their right mind wants their mum�s record collection?

The age of the audience may explain their reactions to the songs when Duffy finally gets on stage. As my sister put it, you couldn�t tell if they were captivated by it all or bored rigid. They just stood there, looking at the stage, occasionally talking to their partners or possibly mouthing along to some of the words. They applauded long and appreciatively when she reached the end of each song, but in general they were subdued. Well, all except one drunken woman who swayed along to the music (well, she was swaying) and sang along with a drink in her hand all night. Drunken mums, you see. Take them for a night out and they�ll just embarrass themselves.

To be fair to Duffy she did make an attempt to engage with the audience right from the very start of the gig. Walking on the stage with just a guitarist to accompany her (the rest of the band will come on later) she starts to sing �Syrup and Honey�. She�s part of the way into the second verse when she stops the song in its tracks and says �Hold on, can we start again? My mother brought me up to be a good Welsh girl and I haven�t introduced myself�� It�s a pleasantly disarming introduction and makes my sister warm to her. Duffy continues to make conversation with the audience through the rest of the night. She talks about how Wales was close enough for her to get back home to and stay with her mum. She talks about being a regular to Manchester and had a few ex-boyfriends from here. Someone in the audience shouts out �Can I be your ex-boyfriend?� Duffy smiles and moves on. As the night goes on she continues chat to members of the audience, slowly trying to bring them in to her style. It�s clear to my sister that Duffy appears to genuinely enjoy being here.

But despite the effort there isn�t much movement from the audience, there isn�t much dancing or jumping up and down. You could blame the set list. Most of the songs are played at a medium pace, not fast enough to make you want to shuffle your feet. While the musicians played well, it didn�t feel energetic. The sound wasn�t as rich as on the album. Duffy�s voice sounded more slurred as well. We�re not talking Winehouse slurred here, but it wasn�t as clear as it was on the album. Teri talked about this with her mate as the gig went on. The general conclusion was that it could be drink, but it was more likely because she was Welsh. You know how the Welsh are, with their consonants�

In fact it wasn�t until the end of the set when they play �Mercy� that the audience really start to move. As the beginning chords kicked in the audience cheered and the famously bouncy floor really started to bounce. But as soon as the song finished it was the end of the set. She did come back on for a one-song encore of �Distant Dreamer� but that was it. The entire gig just over an hour long, leaving my sister and her friend both to think �Was that it?� The rest of the audience seemed pleased with the night. Overall Teri and Craig weren�t enamoured with her. As a person she seemed charming and they recognised that she had talent but they probably wouldn�t go and pay to see her again. Still, it was a free gig, right? I guess I should start writing that Ministry review now�...

Live - REM / Modest Mouse

Mon, 02 Jun 2008 19:24:00 GMT

I enjoyed Modest Mouse - slightly less ramshackle than when I saw them a few years ago, although 'Float On' still sounded as if it was being played in the wrong key by at least two of the band... I like the new signing on the right wing though - a talented kid called Johnny Marr... So who is this new boy? Gone is the pudgy junkie look of the (still) ill-advised solo years, replaced by a cool, skinny, sharp-dressed young looking hipster with a sharp haircut... The boy called Johnny was looking as good, if not better, than he ever did in The Smiths... However, like George Best walking out on Man Utd in the 70's (the story is old but it goes on) and ending up with a then 3rd division team (Fulham) - Johnny Marr left the best band in Manchester (best band period!) and settled for lower division mediocrity...

1985 seems a long time ago - Fables had just come out and REM were about to become the biggest band in the world (possibly...) Not that there was much evidence of that at Milton Keynes Bowl on 22nd June 1985 (U2 called the event 'The Longest Day' - oops!) REM were still relatively unknown in the UK and Fables had received a lukewarm reception. Playing low on the bill, their jangly pop was blown away by a mixture of a light breeze and the terrible acoustics at MK. And so we come to 2008 - I was talking to a friend the other night about when REM jumped the shark. We concluded that they hadn't jumped the shark or even lost the plot (er - Shiny Happy People anyone?) they just kept repeating the same plot over and over... Apparently the new album is a return to form but don't they always say that? Anyways, I digress. The show itself was good although I was bored after 5 samey songs until they played the wonderful 'Fall on me' about half way through... The second half was better with 'Losing my religion', 'The one I love' and ultimately 'Man on the moon'...

...

Live - Born Ruffians

Thu, 29 May 2008 15:46:00 GMT

Being Canadian, neither Born Ruffians nor tonight's headline act (Caribou) can be blamed for scheduling a show when half of Aberdeen are milling around Pittodrie in the hope of killing off Rangers' football title hopes (they did) and its testament to the growing reputation of the Ruffians that they command a strong crowd from the first thump of Steven Hamelin's drum kit. Joining Steven are Mitch Derosier on bass and Luke Lalonde, cutting something of a Lee Mavers look on stage. They're three young men in complete control of what they're doing and they have a new album to promote.

"This is our first time in Aberdeen." Luke tells a crowd only now sure they've finished their last song (in truth, they're at least three tracks in, such is their initial breakneck speed and the shortness of pauses between songs) before adding a deadpan "But it shouldn't be our last...hopefully."

Working their way through songs as varied as 'Barnacle Goose', 'Badonkadonkey' and 'Hedonistic Me' the band quickly have the crowd on side, each exhibiting the talents of each member - the multi-layered drumming of Steven, Mitch's juddering bass and Luke's soon-to-be-celebrated falsetto and, as a whole, the trio exhibit such natural chemistry when sharing vocals.

Saving their strongest songs for a memorable outro, they give us the Talking Heads funk of the life-affirming 'Foxes Mate for Life', the lilting harmonica-led country balladry of 'Little Garcon' and future hit single 'Kurt Vonnegut' which finally morphs into a surf rock jam. Finishing with former single 'Hummingbird', soon to be beloved by millions of Orange customers, and recent single 'I Need a Life', the band have built up a legion of fruggers who repay the band with a great cheer as they bring a highly entertaining forty five minute set to a close.

...

Live - Bob Mould / The Recovery

Thu, 29 May 2008 09:21:00 GMT

It looks like it�s going to be quiet tonight. I hope it isn�t going to be quiet tonight.

I arrive at the gig just at the point the first band comes on stage, The Recovery. There aren�t many people here, only about twenty people in the audience. Okay so it�s just the support band , but you�d expect a few more people to have turned up by now. It�s not as if the upstairs bar is full either. Maybe everyone�s stuck in the downstairs in the proper student union bar and taking the opportunity to re-experience student union prices. Somehow I doubt it though.

This is the second time I�ve been to a Bob Mould gig this year. Back in March I watched an energetic and impressively full-on performance at the Fillmore East. That wasn�t a sell out either, but it was bloody close. I really hope people start entering the main venue soon. I�m not too sure how well promoted this gig has been. Looking in the Metro or the Evening News I haven�t noticed any major pieces about the gig. Maybe I just missed them. To be honest I didn�t know he was playing until I received an e-mail offering a ticket to do the review but then again I�ve been out of the circuit for the last couple of months (went on holiday, if we ever meet I might mention to it to you ad infinitum). The album that he�s here to promote has been out for a while now too and it doesn�t look like it has set the world on fire. That might explain a lack if interest in the gig. Again, it's a pity. Hopefully the might be a few converts after the night is through.

Anyway, The Recovery. They are a rawk band. They would sound pretty good mid-afternoon on the Radio One stage at The Reading / Leeds Festival . Whether or not you take that as a compliment or an attack is up to you. The bass player is wearing a Metallica t-shirt. He goes a little out of time as he attempts to stand on the monitor. He won�t do that again during the gig., standing on the monitor I mean. The come from� Erm... They did mention it� Which is the city everyone gets shot in? Nottingham? Norwich? Nottingham. Probably. Somebody in the audience came from there too and they had a little joke about it that the audience appreciated. What there was of an audience. Other than that they produced a solid if not totally bewitching sound. They do perform a very nice version of Kylie�s 'Confide in Me'. Mind you, what metal band nowadays doesn�t do a cover version of a camp pop classic? You�ve got to give the ladies something to listen to�

They�ve finished and it�s still not full in here. It�s half full and it still doesn�t look promising. I�m blaming the background music. I don�t know who picked it but Slayer and Sepultura are not the sound of Bob Mould now. Putting aside his pure electronic/dance pseudonym, his recent solo albums have been a mixture mature lyrics, disco influenced beats and effects, melodic pop and straight up hard edge rock. The closest the sound system will play to that tonight are Motorhead�s 'We Are The Roadcrew' and Paul McCartney�s 'Live and Let Die'. It isn�t the same really. And I guess the choice of support band reflects the problem too. The support for the Fillmore gig were an indie/electro based outfit called Halou (they were pretty good as well - worth a listen if you have a chance). Maybe we just don�t know what to make of Bob anymore.

Perhaps that explains Bob�s first line to the audience. �Wow, how did you find us?� Well we did, and with that he goes into a Sugar Double bill of 'The Act We Act' and 'A Good Idea'. And Lo, The crowd were happy. And the venue is now three quarters full. Things are getting better.

The set itself was very similar to the set he played at the Fillmore and the one he played a few years ago while touring 'Body of Song' (which you can watch via the recent DVD release, 'Circle of Friends'), but with a few of the new songs thrown in for good measure. That means we get songs from the whole spectrum of his music career. Well, all except the electro-dance stuff but it is indirectly represented by his keyboardist Richard Morel who Mould formed the club night/dance group Blowoff with. The crowd reacts best to the period of Bob they know the most. For me that�s the Sugar era Bob, any chance to sing along to 'Hoover Dam' or 'Your Favorite Thing' is good enough for me. At the end of the first section of his set the entire crowd will begin to move to a rousing version of 'Can�t Help You Anymore', one of the few times that the crowd really does move. A pleasing sight is people getting into some of Bob�s recent solo efforts such as the gentle 'The Silence Between Us' and 'I Am Vision I Am Sound', which had it�s electro edges tweaked to make it into a more staple rock stroll. They loved 'Paralysed', and so they should. In another world that would be a huge hit. Some references are made to his pre-Sugar solo material but the biggest cheers came for the Husker Du songs. Not entirely surprising really, as this audience of late thirty-to-fortysomethings have been waiting for this for a long time. They may not form a mosh pit to 'Divide and Conquer' like the did at the Fillmore, but they love it. 'I Apologize' starts to make feet move. 'Celebrated Summer' gets them jumping, and when they end with 'Makes No Sense At All' the audience go crazy. Again this isn�t wild in the aisles crazy, but as crazy as this audience can be. This audience wants so bad, and Bob is happy to give it to them. In fact Bob Mould is happy. At both gigs he smiles and makes little jokes. At the Fillmore he introduces the band and then describes himself as "The guy who is eating way too much. Man, how did I get this fat?" Here in Manchester gig he�s constantly smiling at and sharing little jokes with the band. When a member of the audience climbs on stage to hug Bob and thank him at the end of the first part of the set he doesn�t throw them off, but hugs them back and jokes about if he gets of the stage they might do the encore.

When they leave the venue the audience is happy, Bob�s happy. I�m happy. I just wish there were more people to be happy with, that�s all�

...

Live - Philip Jeays

Wed, 28 May 2008 16:31:00 GMT

Tonight sees the wonderful Philip Jeays take to the stage (of sorts) as part of the always-excellent Libraries Aloud mini-festival of poetry, music, writing and culture. Jeays is often described as England's answer to Jacques Brel, but in reality he is far closer to Jarvis Cocker's ironic wit, Luke Haines anarchic diatribes, Neil Hannon's self deprecating humour and Scott Walker's golden voice.

Yes, Philip Jeays is not only that good, but he is even better than that. An incurable romantic in the finest sense of the word, Jeays doesn't just sing his songs but he lives them, inhabiting them completely like no other performer that I have ever seen and transforming himself before our very eyes. In this intimate venue Jeays delivers the songs and their highly amusing narratives in fine style. With only his acoustic guitar, and Dave on piano accompaniment, this is Jeays in a nearly naked performance, which leaves the tiny crowd breathless, wide-eyed and open-mouthed in amazement.

Jeays has previously been tipped here at the CDX building and rumours of his imminent new album suggest a more orchestral based direction, which bodes well for the future. While still very much in awe of Brel, tonight's show is yet another stunning virtuoso performance, demonstrating the power and resonance of a wholly unique and wonderful voice that delivers the lyrics to stunning effect.

Tonight's show's real highlights are a stunning performance of 'Cupid Is A Drunkard,' hotly followed by an arch version of 'The Laughing Song' and an incredibly beautiful 'Perry County'. This was yet another fine show by the greatest entertainer the world has never heard of. Don't let it remain that way kids, check out the great man for yourself and see what you've been missing.

...

Live - Futureheads

Tue, 27 May 2008 16:32:00 GMT

Much has been written about The Futureheads' acrimonious split from 679 Records and their subsequent Lazarus-like comeback with the Top 20 single 'Beginning of the Twist'. It seems the band still have an axe to grind stocking 'official bootleg' CDs of live shows recorded during their tenure with their previous label on their merchandise stand. Tonight's show in Aberdeen is the first on a brand new tour to promote their third (and first independent) album 'This Is Not The World'.

After a quick "hello" from Ross they head straight into the guaranteed crowdstarter 'Decent Days and Nights' and, before long, Ross and Barry are exchanging guitar poses and showing understandable enthusiasm for a band on their first tour free from record company shackles. The energy carries over to the crowd immediately and the scent of sweat soon hangs heavier in the air than the strong Sunderland accents of tonight's headline act.

Comparisons to The Clash have come thick and fast for this album and, from Barry's new look, it seems he's trying to emulate Joe Strummer not only in sound, but in hairstyle too as he kicks into new track 'Broke Up The Time'.

Previous greats ('Meantime', 'A to B', 'Area','Stick to the End') are interspersed with future favourites ('This Is Not The World', 'Radio Heart') in an intelligent setlist that never loses the crowd and entertains me as I wait impatiently for service by the least attentive bar staff in town, eventually giving up after their surliness becomes too much for me. Angry and parched, my spirits are raised by the timely inclusion of comeback single 'Beginning of the Twist' which causes the biggest roar of the night with Barry giving his all on the vocals.

Slightly bemused that the question "has anyone every had their heart broken?" only receives replies from six blokes, The Futureheads give us one of the finest performances of the set with the lost-love-lament 'Hard to Bear', an incredibly polished performance for what may be its first live outing.

Leading us in tantalisingly with a "this song is about sexy dogs" line, 'Hounds of Love' creates a storm with a well-rehearsed crowd instinctively splitting themselves in half to deliver 'uh oh oh' and 'ah oh oh' backing vocals to the band's unique Kate Bush cover version. There's a quick return to The Clash territory for single-in-waiting 'Think Tonight', a version so good it makes up for the fact the crowd now smells like a discarded burger van. But, alas, there's no encore. No matter, tonight the crowd leaving Moshulu are as sticky as the venue's famous carpet.

...

Live - The Cure

Wed, 14 May 2008 20:52:00 GMT

The Cure concert Friday May 9th at the Patriot Center (a 10000-seat arena) was almost completely sold out and you could tell that it had been to long for many people since they had last seen Robert Smith and crew entertain them. The venue didn't really fill up until well after the opener, the UK band 65 Days Of Static , had let the stage. 65 Days Of Static were actually a bit different than expected and played a quick 30 minute set of more guitar jams then electronics, which is what I was expecting. The lead singer even joked "If you're here now, you're either really early or lost...but thanks for coming out".

Seeing Robert Smith come out on stage, at 49, still wearing oversized shirts and the dark (raccoon-like) eye makeup he is known for, I had a ear to ear grin. He also had his hair teased up as always,but there was a noticeable bald spot. The mostly 30-40 something crowd energetically sang along, clapped, danced and stood for over three hours as the band went through 39 songs picked from their 30 plus years in "alternative rock".

The Cure ,as they are now, have slimmed down and changed around their four members, with Smith and Porl Thompson on guitars, Simon Gallup still holding a low-slung bass (as if every song was super intense) and drummer Jason Cooper wailing away behind them all. Several times throughout the show there were some triggered synth sounds in the mix but the group revamped keyboard-heavy songs such as "The Lovecats," "The Walk" and "Close to Me" so that Porl could play them on guitar, with mixed results. The boys even included two new numbers into their hits-heavy set list, 'The Perfect Boy' (think Wish era), which Smith said was a "world premiere", and 'Freak Show' (think Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me era). The Cure then proceeded to come back for 3 encores. Yes, 3 encores, which ended up putting the show over the 3 hour mark. It was sweet.

After waiting for almost 8 months (the show was originally scheduled for last September) it was more than worth the wait. This was also the first night of the US tour and at the end of the third encore, Robert exclaimed"Thanks for making this the best fucking opening night ever!". The Cure sound just as good as they did back in their prime (with some noticeable aging) and the crowd loved every minute of it.

In case anyone cares...here is the set list for the show.

Mainset:

plainsong/ prayers for rain/ a strange day/ alt end/ the walk/ the end of the world/ lovesong/ to wish impossible things/ pictures of you/ lullaby/ the perfect boy/ from the edge of the deep green sea/ hot hot hot/ the only one/ push/ friday i�m in love/ inbetween days/ just like heaven/ primary/ shake dog shake/ never enough/ wrong number/ one hundred years/ disintegration

Encore 1:

at night/ m/ play for today/ a forest

Encore 2:

the lovecats/ let�s go to bed/ freak show/ close to me/ why can�t i be you?

Encore 3:

boys don�t cry/ jumping someone else�s train/ grinding halt/ 10:15 saturday night/ killing an arab

Oh...and 'Disintegration' is still one of the best albums ever!!!!...

Live - NME New Noise Tour

Sat, 10 May 2008 12:11:00 GMT

I've been a busy sort recently and that's meant my finger hasn't quite been on the new band pulse. So I was quite pleased to be given the chance to see which bands the NME are currently pushing. Crystal Castles I'd heard of and was keen to see; the others rung distant bells but people I mentioned them to made encouraging noises. The only downer was that it was a lovely, summery evening and the prospect of spending it in a dark, smelly venue didn't appeal much.

The desire to be out enjoying the sun probably affected my enjoyment of White Lies a little - they were impressive if a little gloomy. I just missed their entrance and arrived to find the stage wreathed in smoke with a single light, the colour of a nicotine stain, barely illuminating the stage. I think I saw four band members on stage but it was hard to tell. As for the songs, it was all creditably decent stuff. Very Editors, especially in terms of vocals. What struck me was that most songs were a whisper from being upbeat and catchy - it's like they'd taken indieish pop numbers and slowed them down, dropped a key or changed the lyrics to take them to slightly darker territory. I liked that.

Next up were Team Waterpolo. A warning - much of this paragraph will consist of comparisons with other bands; consider it an exercise in journalistic laziness. They started in the best possible way for a band low on a bill, grabbing attention with an air raid siren and a 'Take Me Out' style stomp before launching into their first song with Go! Team exuberance. Things then took a dive into The Automatic territory (only slightly less irritating) before levelling out along fey, college-rock lines and a song (I didn't catch any names) that wouldn't be out of place among the Scouting For Girls/Hoosiers/cack of daytime Radio 1. They were quite fun on stage - plenty of bouncing about and their last song provoked some moshing for no readily apparent reason.

After a short interlude it was the turn of Friendly Fires. By this stage I was starting to get bored of variations on the NME-pleasing '4 guys with guitars' formula and so the cynicism was creeping in. The singer seemed to me to be suffering a Borrell Complex (although my companions judged that a little harsh) although he won back points for smashing up his instruments. Ok, so it was just a maraca he broke when hitting it on the ceiling, but I'm trying to be kind. I guess I felt there was something a little contrived about them - they hit a fashionable sound (alternately sounding like Foals, Hot Chip & Bloc Party) so perfectly there had to be something calculated about it. In short I knew I liked them but I didn't feel that I liked them, if you get me. I can see them doing well.

Crystal Castles broke the 4GWG monotony and provoked a something approaching a squeal of hysteria when they appeared. The venue's embargo on crowd-surfing meant that the crowd's energy was channelled into some heavy moshing and circle-pit action that was met with bewilderment and a little worry by a clueless few.

Starting with a revamped take on their remix of the Klaxons' 'Atlantis To Interzone' and moving through a setlist that included most of the debut album - 'Air War', 'Courtship Dating' and 'Crimewave' all raising the roof - the energy from start to finish was intense. Ethan kept his head bowed over his instruments while Alice was a shouting she-devil, constantly freeze-framed in the light of the single strobe that lit the stage. It might have been a balmy night outside, but inside it was as if we were in the sort of underground club that only exists in the movies. Thrilling stuff....

Live - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Sat, 10 May 2008 10:47:00 GMT

After the grittyness of his Grinderman side-project, Nick Cave has returned to the Bad Seeds fold with his dancing shoes in hand; new album, Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! tackling the subjects of previous albums in exuberant fashion. The setlist consisted predominantly of new tracks and so made for a lively show, Cave throwing flurries of awkwardly lithe shapes during the opening 'The Night Of The Lotus Eaters' and the new album's title track.

There was room enough for highlights from the back catalogue too, with 'Red Right Hand' sounding ever-more menacing and, twenty years after it's release, 'Deanna' packing a punch.

The versatility of the Bad Seeds was a joy to behold, switching styles from the atmospheric 'Tupelo' to the rollicking 'Today's Lesson' without fuss. Ditto with the breakdowns in the Berryman and Bukowski-baiting 'We Call Upon The Author To Explain', a set highlight. The band are a multi-nationality assortment of real characters, none more so than the lank-haired, bearded Warren Ellis, who wielded his violin bow like executioner's axe, raising it high above his head before slashing it across the strings.

The energy dipped slightly towards the end of the set, with 'More News From Nowhere', 'Get Ready For Love' and 'Straight To You' perhaps suffering from mid-tour tiredness. Happily, things picked up with an excellent version of 'The Lyre Of Orpheus' before the band left the stage.

The encore was, to my mind, very nearly perfect. Cave proved that he's only human by spotting a friend in the wings and fluffing the opening lines of an otherwise beautiful 'Into My Arms'. He recovered well and it was with the narrative tumult of 'Stagger Lee' that he topped a dramatic and impressive performance....

Live - Adele

Sat, 10 May 2008 10:42:00 GMT

At the risk of perpetuating an absurdity, the words 'diva' and Adele have no reason to ever turn up in the same sentence. The 'D' word was jokingly invoked by the lady on stage - muttering that her tea was Earl Grey, and she doesn't like Earl Grey - but the likelihood of Adele ever throwing a flouncy hissy-fit doesn't seem very high.

I must admit, the BRIT School background made my cynical impulse flicker a little but there's something about Adele's scatty-yet-assured lack of self-consciousness that's utterly disarming. There's the talent too, of course. Not only can the girl sing; she can perform.

With her band arrayed on raised platforms behind her and a flashing sign above, Adele had a large expanse of the Alexandra Theatre's stage to herself. Typically, she apologised to us for not dancing around and making use of it all.

The setlist comprised the whole of debut album '19' as well as covers of The Coral's 'Dreaming of You' and Etta James' 'Fool That I Am' - both excellent although the former had strong shades of Mark Ronson/Amy Winehouse's Zutons cover.

For the most part the album tracks gained much from their live arrangements - the full band set-up breathing life into several songs that fell a little flat on record. That said, one of the highlights of the evening was a solo rendition of 'Hometown Glory', just Adele and her guitar alone in the spotlight.

Unlike some of her peers, and despite her background, there's little hint of her being overly stage-managed. At least, if someone had taught her to flap around excitedly and run in circles when presented with a 'happy birthday' sign I'd be very surprised.

Professionalism was restored, however - the chatty, down-to-earth charm replaced with a strong yet easy-going performance of 'Chasing Pavements' that made me forgive and forget it's teeth-grating radio ubiquity - and that's no mean feat.

Photo by Bianca Barrett...

Live - Melody Gardot / The Mercury Men

Fri, 09 May 2008 16:13:00 GMT

I must admit that when I accepted the tickets to go see Melody Gardot it was with a certain degree of weary cynicism. I've reviewed so many female singer/songwriters (especially at the Glee Club) that I'm running out of ways to describe them. The comparisons to Norah Jones and Diana Krall didn't get the adrenaline going either.

First up though, were The Mercury Men. Put together by Sandi Thom's manager and signed to Sony/BMG they've presumably got some wedge behind them. Essentially, they were three guys with guitars ploughing an uninspired folk/pop furrow. I didn't think much of them but they came across as likeable enough guys so I wish them luck. Oh, and my companion and I got the giggles when we noticed the kicked-in-the-nuts expressions they all pulled during the high notes. Childish, I know, but sometimes you've got to make your own entertainment.

Melody Gardot was something else. Not lacking in (metaphorical) balls herself, she started the show unaccompanied with a gospel-style song before bringing the band in for 'Sweet Memory'. Her style is a rather muted jazz - all brushed snares and restrained brass with the emphasis on the bass and her own voice.

Two of the band deserve a special mention; Ken Pendergast had the flat cap/long beard combo of the archetypal jazz double-bassist and Chuck Patierno on drums seemed absolutely possessed by some demonic jazz spirit, gurning slightly and in constant motion.

Highlights were 'Quiet Fire' with it's strident middle section, the playful 'All That I Need Is Love' and 'Worrisome Heart' - a song which could be a standard lovelorn lament but which takes on further meaning with knowledge of Gardot's backstory. A shuffling arrangement of 'Somewhere Over A Rainbow', performed as an encore, was good too.

The set's only downer for me was the extended call and response and soloing during Goodnight, but that's the nature of the jazz beast I guess. It certainly didn't spoil the show; Gardot's combination of classy coolness and easy-going, girlish charm kept us all in the palm of her hand....

Live - Lightspeed Champion / Operator Please / Ox.Eagle.Lion.Man

Mon, 05 May 2008 16:54:00 GMT

A moment of panic set in for me at Birmingham's Academy 2 when the auditorium slowly faded into darkness and the spotlights blazed to life revealing a rather pale Jarvis Cocker look-a-like and bloke with a distinctly odd reverse-mullet haircut. It isn't that I've got a bizarre phobia about wiry indie icons or unorthodox barnets or anything, it was because I was actually expecting to see fresh-faced Aussie punksters Operator Please and this clearly wasn't them. After several bemused moments wondering if I was supposed to be reviewing a gig in the neighbouring Bar Academy instead, it became apparent that there were, in fact, going to be two support bands for headliners Lightspeed Champion tonight and this was to be the first of them.

Now in my experience an unexpected support band falls into one of two camps: A welcome bonus to the main event or a frustrating 30 minute delay before anything interesting shows up. Which camp were Ox.Eagle.Lion.Man going to peg their four-man musical dome-tent to this evening?

Well, for me it was unfortunately the latter. I think they were aiming for a brooding chunk of angsty art-rock lodged somewhere between Nick Cave and The Cure but instead the performance was peppered with pretentious theatrical posturing from frontman Frederick Blood-Royale without anything overly interesting in the musical department to back them up. Imagine the painfully luvvie Uncle Vernon from Withnail and I covering The Smiths on a student union karaoke and you get a pretty good mental picture of the band.

To be fair to Ox.Eagle.Lion.Man they did have a nice line in witty banter with the crowd and their music did seem to strike a chord with a fair few people in the audience so they must have been doing something right. I think you could probably describe them as a real "Marmite" band- you're either going to love them or hate them. Personally, I'm a Bovril man myself.

Or maybe that should be a Vegemite man because having watched the pleasingly energetic support set from Antipodean pop-punk quintet Operator Please, I'm almost tempted up-sticks to Australia for a life of kangaroo-bothering, tinny drinking and barbecues.

Working their way through several of their radio-friendly numbers from the recently-released 'Yes, Yes Vindictive' album, Operator Please provided an energetic and remarkably polished set that had a significant proportion of the crowd bouncing like along like Tigger in an earthquake.

Lead singer Amandah Wilkinson kept the banter to a minimum and chose to let the music do the talking as the band rattled full throttle through favourites such as 'Zero Zero', 'Ghost' and 'Get What you Want' before throwing a barnstorming cover of Devo's Whip It into the mix for good measure. By the time they launched into the mandatory 'Song About Ping Pong', a track so ridiculously catchy that Gordon Brown should award it Class C status, they had a chunk of the crowd eating out of their hands and a fair few new converts trying to resist the urge to bounce off the walls like they were dosed up on blue smarties. With a hefty touring schedule and a sprinkling of festival gigs in the pipeline, I think we could be hearing a lot more about Operator Please this summer.

And then came the turn of headliners Lightspeed Champion. Decked out in a Davey Crockett fur hat, his trademark NHS specs and a neon explosion of a shirt freshly purchased from Digbeth's finest vintage emporium, former Test-Icicle Dev Hynes cut a pleasingly surreal dash onstage.

Launching straight into 'Galaxy of the Lost', the band set the agenda for a subsequently brilliant set covering some of the stand-out tracks from their 'Falling off the Lavender Bridge' album as well some new material and a couple of moments of leftfield genius too. Fusing gorgeously folky indie rock with country-tinged moments and occasional injections of funk, Dev and the boys provided a refreshing alternative to the standard guitar-band fodder and won a warm reception from the Birmingham crowd.

The influence of Saddle Creek producer Mike Mogis on their debut album was also in evidence on stage as Lightspeed Champion's violin-soaked melodies evoked bands such as Rilo Kiley and Bright Eyes (of which Mogis is also a member) adding an American dustbowl flavour to their British eccentricity. Meanwhile the new tracks veered off into different territory with 'Madam van Damme' evoking a 50s guitar sound that would have got the thumbs up from Buddy Holly and another new offering cheekily upping the funk factor. Along the way we got winners such as 'Tell me What it's Worth', 'Everyone I Know listens to Crunk' and an awesome take on crowd favourite 'Midnight Surprise' fused with a brilliantly bonkers Star Wars Medley.

By the time Dev took to the drums and handed over vocal duties to Ox.Eagle.Lion.Man vocalist Frederick Blood-Royale for the 'All to Shit' encore, the bespectacled pied-piper and his merry band had successfully led us all on a musical journey to a very happy place. With goofy grins all round both on stage and on the dance floor, it's fair to say that the champ scored a real knock-out at the Academy 2 tonight. ...

Live - Coachella Festival

Sun, 27 Apr 2008 22:29:00 GMT

With kind permission from everybodystalking here's a reprint of Ian D Matthews recent Coachella blog.

Friday, April 25th
Just arrived at the venue. The temperature isn't too bad - only 95f (last year was 105f). Seeing Black Kids in a few minutes and just caught the end of Redd Kross - pleasantly surprised as I was thinking of Kriss Kross! No evidence of pants being back to front though...

The Verve

Watching (or rather listening) to Vampire Weekend, who sound rather feeble in an outdoor environment but at least they're not wearing sweaters today. The Breeders played a chaotic set but rolled out 'Cannonball' and 'Divine Hammer' to keep the masses happy. Black Kids were very cool, Jens Lekman not so much although his current single 'Opposite of Hallelujah' was well received. Coming up Goldfrapp, Aphex Twin and The Verve.

The Verve played most of Urban Hymns so obviously it was a great set! Richard Ashcroft's voice was soaring, particulary on 'The Drugs Don't Work'. Goldfrapp were a little disappointing - the new folky material hit and miss, with the rushed changeover contributing to some sound problems. I'm sure they would have insisted playing the main stage if it wasn't for their late addition to the lineup. However, 'Happiness' sounded great, as did the songs from the last album. Caught a bit of Dan Le Sac vs Scroobius Pip which was cool.

Saturday, 26th April
We started Saturday amongst the throng watching MGMT but the increased Saturday crowd and temperature (99f today) make the tented stages almost unbearable. So we're over at the main stage watching Cold War Kids. Stephen Malkmus follows on the other outdoor stage. Looking forward to Kraftwerk and Portishead later.

Cold War Kids were good, Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks better - their trippy jams perfect festival fodder... Caught a couple of St Vincent songs but wasn't really feeling it so hit the dance tent for Hot Chip who played as the sun was going down. They were ok, as are Rilo Kiley who just played 'Moneymaker'...

Portishead

Portishead and Kraftwerk were both amazing with the Brits having a slight edge over the Germans on account of not being replaced by robots at any point during the set! Both had superb visuals with Kraftwerk using some of their well known videos and imagery. Portishead, meanwhile, used live black and white footage with two or more cameras blended using the sort of bleed and distortion techniques used in Dr Who or Top of the pops in the 70's - perfect for the haunting music. Beth Gibbons voice was immaculate and it was interesting to compare the Portishead set with the messy set of Goldfrapp yesterday...

Sunday, 27th April 2008
Just finished watching I'm from Barcelona, who were good fun. Kind of a Swedish Polyphonic Spree but with more singers and less instrumentation. Not sure who else to see today but want to catch Spiritualized or Metric later...

The most memorable thing so far today was getting attacked by a swarm of bees. The sky went black in a somewhat Hitchcockian episode. Saw a little of Shout out Louds including their Cure ripoff which is probably a single as I've heard it a few times. Wasn't feeling Manchester Orchestra so went to see Stars (possibly the fourth best band in Montreal) and Set yourself on fire is applicable song for Coachella weather. Checked out Does it offend you yeah! but nu-rave is getting a little old this weekend. Back at the main stage watching Gorgol bordello who are surprisingly entertaining and going down a storm!

Love and Rockets

Despite being David J's third best band (do your own research) Love and Rockets played a great set to close the 2nd stage. If someone had told me L&R would make my top 5 acts this year I would have said 'pigs might fly' - although with Roger Waters just about to close the main stage even that was a possibility...

Earlier, we gave up on Spiritualized (whose strings and semi-acoustic set was being spoiled by the close proximity to the dance tent) and went over to watch Metric, who were pretty good.

Didn't see much of Roger Waters as we wanted to get a headstart on the 120 mile trip to LA. Overall this year wasn't great, but highlights were Portishead, The Verve, Kraftwerk, Stephen Malmus and the Jicks, Black Kids and Love and Rockets - I guess that pig did fly after all!

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