Thursday, December 29, 2011
Maybe it's just me but I find pretty much every Abba song to be wonderfully depressing. Perhaps it's the knowledge that all of those jolly smiles hid all kinds of marital disharmony or perhaps it's the fact that the blonde one hid herself away for years then ended up copping off with her stalker...who knows...whatever it is no one does post Christmas misery better than Abba do on this little beauty. Makes the average Arab Strap song seem pretty upbeat. Happy New Year!
Friday, December 23, 2011
The Dirty Old Folkers Panto / Sylvia / Ola Brown (Compere) @ The Hare and Hounds, Thursday 22nd December
Well, nearly there. The turkey’s already on, the mulled wine’s bubbling away and Bad Santa’s in the DVD player. Bliss. Just before I attempt to consume my own body weight in stuffing however time for one last review...almost literally given the sheer insanity on offer this evening. The night kicked off with local folk collective, Sylvia, who endeared themselves to my heart simply by covering Frankie’s Power Of Love track, not a traditional Christmas classic I’ll grant you but for people of a certain age (i.e. ancient) always associated with this time of the year. Covers aside they’ve got some fine self penned tracks too, with gentle harmonies giving way to slightly rockier riffs.
If their name doesn’t give it away then the first few tracks from The Dirty Old Folkers (self proclaimed as Birmingham's only comedy folk cabaret band) sets the tone for the rest of the night. Folk’s always been associated with protest but delve back into its history and there’s plenty of smut, humour and innuendo too. Unlike many of the current folk bands around right now The DOF have...er...seized the rod...creating a unique blend of bile and smiles. Imagine Ewan MacColl crossed with a Viz comic and you’ll have a pretty good idea of what you’re in for. The night kicked off with Old Man Tucker, a tale of an OAP who exacts entirely appropriate revenge on the fat cats for the shit way they have...and what’s pretty unbelievable...continue to behave (it’s a theme the band returned to on one or two other tracks). Second number, Jack Of All Trades, probably the most straightforward protest tune of the night, was a blistering attack on the selling off of what was left of the UK’s industry. This has had a huge impact on the Midlands of course, with Jaguar and Rover being flogged off for a song, Cadbury sold under particularly dubious circumstances and now the rail industry in Derbyshire being decimated by the Government’s decision to award a £multi-billion contract for new rolling stock to a German company. Genius eh? Fair play to The DOF for writing about this stuff, there’s far too little raging against the machine these days (speaking of which they did a rather fine folk take on Killing In The name Of later in the evening...quite brilliant).
Aside from the traditional set format tonight saw a performance of the fourth annual DOF panto, a surreal post modernist take on that old favourite Cinderella. Revolving around a coke snorting Cinders’ attempt to win the X Factor it featured a panda as Louis Walsh (naturally), David Bowie as The Fairy Zigfather, Death (yes, the actual Death...he lives in Kings Heath dontcha know) as The Rev Death and the delightfully foul mouthed spoonerisms of Buttons (sample dialogue “You’re a cucking funt!”). Bonkers? Yes? Enjoyable? You bet. Trust me, you had to be there. Plenty of people were. In fact the place was rammed, adding to the jovial party atmosphere when we were all called upon to join in on the frequent festive singalongs...a task that people strangely warmed to as the booze flowed. Funny that eh? As long as I live I doubt I’ll ever again see anything as strange as Death engage in a dance off with a giant panda to the tune of Sexy Back. Death won by the way, by killing panda, causing one well lubricated punter to call him a “Fookin’ cheat!” Ha! Take that death, you don’t mess with drunken Brummies. There’s something wonderful about having a ruck with death isn’t there? Remind me to do likewise when I’m about to pop my clogs.
After a quick break and a rub down with a damp cloth the hardest working band in show business were back for another set, the highlight of which involved the story of The Hobbit being set to a series of classic tracks, everything from I Will Survive to War Pigs. I’m not sure the ring Tolkein was referring to was the same one that The DOF seemed to have in mind this evening but who knows? A folking great evening of fun from start to finish.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
It had to happen. After postulating about the possibility of a death metal Christmas mix I've been sent this little metalcore beauty courtesy of Mr H. Genius. Now I know what's going to be soundtracking my hangover come Boxing Day...hell yeah.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Over the past few years I've noticed a growing trend for Christmas themed mixes to pop up here and there, perfect for replacing that well worn cassette of Now That's What I Call Christmas now well and truly encrusted with bits of turkey, mince pie and various unidentifiable 'stains'. Naturally, being the age of the intermess, they're all free too. Ho, ho, ho! This year there's a whole sackful of 'em, seemingly catering for pretty much every musical fetish. I'm pretty sure if you look hard enough there'll be a Very Death Metal-mas Mix Out there somewhere. Seriously. Personally I like a bit of hip hop n'soul with my turkey n'stuffing, that's just how I roll, so Kid Fix's mix (with added James Brown, Bad Lucc, Kurtis Blow and Al Green) hits the spot nicely. Enjoy.
Monday, December 19, 2011
So where do you stand on the whole ceilidh thing then eh? I guess that might depend on how many glasses of egg nog / Christmas ale you’ve consumed. For the uninitiated a ceilidh’s a bit of a knees up, involving a bit of the old folk dancing thing (you know, all that taking your partners by the hand dosey-doe business). Whilst some folk are born to dance others aren’t, but at least folk dancing offers those of us with a complete lack of rhythm the chance to get on down whilst looking marginally less stoopid than we normally do, mainly because everyone else is too busy flailing around merrily to notice that you’ve just tripped over your feet/the floor/thin air...again. Tonight The Burdock Band do a fine job of getting this particular ceilidh started, geeing up the surprisingly unreserved crowd (brave souls...it took me a while to pluck up the courage to get up there) and unthawing those parts of the body deep frozen by the wind and sleet and it would be a churlish man indeed to deny the sheer joy of partying like it’s 1599.
Speaking of which, psychedelic medieval folk rock anyone? Yes, verily my lieges Circulus are hereth to geteth on downeth with the kind of tunes that Joan of Arc might’ve shaken a slightly singed tail feather to. Lead by Michael Tyack who, I think it’s safe to say, pretty much exists in his own fantasy world of elves and pixies (beats reality I guess), Circulus are a truly unique proposition. Briefly semi-famous for a while (somewhat bizarrely earning them a two page feature in NME) they’re now over ten years into their career, although they’ve had more members than I’ve had pints of scrumpy. Tonight they were down to a duo, Tyack and a lady on cello/fiddle, but that didn’t stop them from laying down an impressive series of acid tinged folk bangers with Tyack on particularly fine fretwork fondling form. “Wow, almost the end of the world – marvellous...2012 folks!” he announced midway through the set, referring to yet another one of those end of days predictions. He actually seemed pretty excited by the whole prospect to be honest, can’t say I blame him really. Set highlight was a flutetastic version of My Body Is made Of Sunlight, as poppy as the band gets, and a delightful 17th century tale of the Thames freezing over and having holes melted into it by women’s buttocks...which policemen then fell in to...the holes that is...not the buttocks. Quite what these women were doing with their buttocks out Tyack failed to explain but I’m sure there’s a perfectly innocent explanation. Maybe all will be explained in his forthcoming film about ‘energy lines’. There’s a preview at his house this Tuesday evening if you fancy it. He invited all of us along so I’m sure he wouldn’t find a few more people turning up.
After Circulus had done their thing The Burdock Band came back for some more ceilidh madness and only the necessity of having to catch the last bus home dragged me away from it all. Well, that and the fact that I was knackered after just one dance but we’ll gloss over that eh?
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Regular readers will know of my admiration for the lovely Jodi Anne Bickley, poet extraordinaire. A few months ago she suffered a pretty devastating stroke, robbing her of her ability to walk and write for a while. I’ve been ruddy peed off by a bad back (yes, I know, I’m old) for a few weeks so I can only begin to imagine what an impact this would have on someone who’s clearly so stuffed full of life. True to form though she’s battling back to health and this Wednesday holds another of her legendary Speak Up nights at the Hare & Hounds. Hurrah! There’s some top notch spoken word from, amongst others, Polarbear, some tunes from the one and only Tom Peel (plus Martyna Baker and Eva Lazarus) and the whole shebang’s hosted by Jodi and Matt Windle. Oh...there’s cake too. Yes, cake. That seals the deal right? If you can make it then do, if you can’t tell your friends...if you don’t have any friends then you need to get out more...so there’s another reason to go eh?
Tickets from here!
Friday, December 09, 2011
Wow. Where the hell has this little beauty come from? It’s a 7 part history of Birmingham bands from 1965 to 1985 featuring all sorts of previously unseen interviews with many of the key players. It’s only been up for a week or so and hasn’t had that many views yet (how come a video of some bloke chasing his dog across a park gets millions of hits but only a few dozen have watched this eh?). If you have any interest in music whatsoever...from Spencer Davies to The Move, ELO to Black Sabbath, Judas Priest to UB40 and on to the mighty, mighty Duran Duran...it’s frankly essential. Enjoy.
For more stuff on Brum’s surprisingly rich musical contribution to the world check out the Birmingham Music Heritage website...oh...and spread the word too...this is so much better than Charlie bit my whatever.
PS: By a strange piece of synchronicity this is post number 800 for the Hearing Aid. Happy 800th Birthday. 800 posts. Good grief. I really should get out more...less...more...oh jeez.
Hmmmm, this lot sound interesting. Take a little pinch of Mark E Smith and Shaun Ryder’s winning ways with words, add a hint of The Pixies and a distinctly Celtic touch here and there and you’ve got something approaching Clean George IV.
Hailing from Edinburgh there’s an album out in January and a bit of a hipster buzz building around the band, which I’ll merrily tag along with...being a hipster and all that. Yes, you’re right, who am I trying to kid? Anyway, this lot sound like the kinda band that’ll please the beard strokers (cop a load of those lyrics) as well as the mosh pitters...a neat trick if you can pull it off.
God Save The Clean (see what they did there...Lizzie will be pleased) is out on Tenement Records on 16th January 2012
Thursday, December 08, 2011
Ahhhhh those chills, they're multiplying...and it’s not just down to the nut shrivelling weather this time. Usually given at least one showing on TV over the Christmas period this year the New Alexandra is offering would be Sandys and Dannys the live version of Grease as an welcome alternative to the old “oh yes it is, oh no it isn’t, it’s behind you” panto business. Oh yes they are, oh no they’re...oh you get the idea.
Now 40 years on from the original stage musical (first performed in an old trolley barn in Chicago...that’s got to be worth a point in a pub quiz one day) and more than three decades since the classic movie version was unleashed Grease is seemingly as popular as ever judging by its four week run here. Whilst this current touring version’s perhaps low on big name stars (unless you count three time Olympic gold medal winning skater Robin Cousins) happily the cast’s high on energy, really throwing themselves into the performance (sometimes literally) to capture that hormone soaked buzz of rock ‘n’roll’s glory days.
Given the iconic status of the movie version it’s tempting to compare anyone stepping up to play Danny and Sandy with John Travolta and Olivia Newton John. Don’t. Approach this version as something fresh instead, with both leads bringing their own unique take on the roles. Danny Bayne plays Danny with a neat little twist of Joey from Friends, getting plenty of laughs along the way but dispensing with the vague hint of menace that Travolta had (although that’s probably down to Mr T’s real personality rather than his acting ability eh?). The virgin turned sex bomb of Sandy is arguably the hardest part to nail (as it were...) but Carina Gillespie makes the transition perfectly, transforming from straight laced to lace me up in a basque in the blink of an eye. The supporting cast were all excellent too but special mentions must go to Laura Wilson for her delightfully kooky Jan, Darren John as the super geek Eugene and Robin Cousins who camped it up beautifully as Teen Angel. Get that man on Strictly Come Dancing next year.
Whilst the solo numbers saw some impressive performances, Carina’s Hopelessly Devoted To You honestly surpassed the original for instance, it’s the ensemble pieces that’ll make you want to come back to this show time and time again. From the explosive opening of Grease Is The Word through to We Go Together and on to a frankly frantic Born To hand Jive that left me knackered these sections of the show are a grin inducing, foot tapping, ass shaking (not easy in a theatre seat but I gave it a go) treat.
All in all a hugely enjoyable production of true musical gem. Merry Grease-mas everyone!
Grease is on at the New Alexandra Theatre until Tuesday 31st December.
Wednesday, December 07, 2011
Tuesday, December 06, 2011
The Azelia Banks track is pure filth, featuring as it does a liberal use of the c-word...and we’re not talking Christmas here. Definitely one to play for Auntie Gladys on Boxing Day. Puts the ho back into ho ho ho...
Who would I stick in there? Well,for starters Dimbleby & Capper would be a shoe in...
as would Saint Saviour...
...and Goodnight Lenin too of course...
That's just for starters of course, the one thing you can be sure of, no matter how much crap there might be out there right now (and there is a lot of crap out there, I'll grant you that) there's a lot more good stuff going on in bedrooms, pubs and broom cupboard sized venues all over the world, all you've got to do is dig it out. Enjoy...
PS: I've not included Lana Del Ray because, let's face it, she's going to be massive.
PPS: Yes, I know there are a whole bunch of bands I've raved about over the past few months who I've not mentioned here...why not settle down for a week and revisit all of this year's posts eh...your boss'll never know...
Monday, December 05, 2011
Ho ho ho Merry Christmas...what’s Santa got in his sack? Why...it’s Paul Murphy and Goodnight Lenin! Ho ho ho! Yes, it’s that time of the year again, time for the second annual Goodnight Lenin Christmas gig thingy, this year held in the rather lovely Birmingham Cathedral, duly decked out for the festive season with all the good taste you’d expect from the big man and his disciples.
First up Mr Paul Murphy, front dude for The Destroyers and all round local legend. I’ve only ever seen him in full on whirling dervish mode so the fact that he came on and sat down to play took a minute or two to get used to, I kept expecting him to leap up at any moment, kick off his shoes and vault over the pulpit cackling like Beelzebub. Whilst tonight was a much more chilled out affair it gave you the chance to bathe in that voice of his, the vocal equivalent of a 40 year old single malt. A warm, rich thing mellowed out by the years, he could sing a Christmas shopping list and make it sound strangely beautiful. Happily he’s got a better way with words than that and tracks from his new solo album, The Glen, cast a rather beautiful spell over the capacity crowd.
Shoplifters Blues, a humorous tale of Paul’s attempt to nick a Fray Benthos pie, raised a chuckle and a solo run through There’s a Hole In The Universe (a track more usually played with The Destroyers) ended a surprisingly intimate little set, no mean feat in a cavernous Cathedral. Anyone missing the full on Murphy experience though can dance their legs to bloodied stumps at The Destroyers gig at Birmingham Town Hall on the 10th December.
After a series of successful festival dates (including Glasto of course), an EP release and a memorable sell out show at the MAC in July it’s certainly been a good year for the Lenin. Tonight’s set clearly benefited from all this live experience with everyone playing with just that little extra bit of polish. Avid Lenin watchers were in for a real treat with a particularly poignant rendition of After All We Never Changed Too Much kicking things off, after a little bit of the legendary band banter that provides a neat counterpoint to many of the emotionally charged songs of course. Emotionally charged? Oh yeah. Take new song Laughter From a Younger Age with its line about “shrapnel from your shattered heart” for instance. There’s a world weariness to a lot of the band’s material that belies their youth and, like one of their heroes, Neil Young, who wrote the distinctly ‘battered by life’ anthem Heart Of Gold in his mid 20’s there’s a maturity to the writing that’s as hard to find as the object of Mr Young’s seemingly fruitless search.
Edward Colby, the best song never written by Simon & Garfunkel, is another fine example of this ability to sum up complex emotions...or entire lives in this case... in a simple but devastatingly effective song. Even if you’re not religious (and I’m as atheist as they come) the setting and delivery of this track this evening combined to create something quite beautiful. Want something with a bit more grrrrrrrrrr? Ode To Rebellion really grew some cojanes tonight, with some particularly meaty guitar solos and rock solid staccato drumming (from the newly moustachioed Sam...nice work there fella). Of course you can’t play a Christmas gig without a Christmas song and happily the band has one, sort of...well it’s got the word Wenceslas in the title (Wenceslas Square) and that’s good enough for me. Having watched the band for a couple of years now personal favourite tracks change over time, but one’s stayed the distance though. Old Cold Hands is arguably their best song to date and tonight the trio of John, John Joe and Liam sang the pants off it.
Fell’s “relentlessly nothing” line is a real killer (cop a listen and hear what I mean) and you’d have to have a heart of stone (nope, not gold this time) not to feel more than a twinge of gut wrenching emotion. Things ended on a lively high though with the upbeat pew shaker Glory Be and, if there is a God, I reckon he’d have been shaking his beard and tapping his sandals like a good ‘un. I hear he likes a bit of dubstep too, him and the Angel Gabriel can often be seen mashing it up...
So, what’s next for Northfield’s finest? Hopefully an album. They’ve got the songs, they’ve got the live experience to do ‘em justice and now there’s a growing fanbase (tonight’s gig looked like another sell out) to snap it up. Put it all together and a cracking night like this one could well lead to an even greater year for them.
Thursday, December 01, 2011
Of course if you’re anywhere near Brum you’ve got to get down to Birmingham Cathedral this Saturday (3rd December) for the second annual Goodnight Lenin Christmas Spectacular too, featuring none other than the legendary Paul Murphy (lead singer of The Destroyers) as support! You’d be...crackers...to miss it...CRACKERS...eh...geddit...eh...? Oh alright then.
Last few tickets available here!
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Loving this track right now, even though it’s currently being played to death on 6 Music. No idea why 'they' insist on using a version the replaces the words ‘blow job’ with ‘snow job‘ though...what is this...the 1800’s? Jeez. The average news report's far more offensive these days and I don’t see anyone rushing to blank out the gibberish pouring from the brain dead chuff monkeys overseeing the decline and fall of Western civilisation do you? No! Exactly. More blow jobs and less nut jobs...that’s what I say. Happily the video version above comes...as it were...with the correct lyrics. Hurrah! Anyway, just listen to the track, one of the best things that lovely Mr Malkmus has done since his Pavement days. It’s really rather spiffing.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
With the three main men from the Rat Pack all having inconveniently finished their ‘last one for the road’ back in the 1990’s there’s a booming industry in recreating that old school Vegas vibe these days with dozens (hell, maybe hundreds) of performers stepping into the shoes of Messers Davis, Martin and Sinatra. Any tribute show comes with an immediate and unavoidable slice of cheese (not always a bad thing), but if the impersonators do a decent job, well, a helluva good time can be had by all. Approaching this current touring version of the Rat Pack show with this in mind the cast did indeed do an impressive job of reanimating the legends. It probably helps if you’re not an obsessive Sammy, Frank or Dean fan...I guess you’d spend most of the trying to spot the difference if you were. As a casual fan of at least two of the three the voices and mannerisms seemed pretty spot on to me though.
There are several Franks, Sammys and Deans in the current touring show and I guess they rotate from venue to venue. Here in Birmingham we got Stephen Triffitt, simply one of the best Sinatra’s in the biz and the perfect leader of the pack for the night’s entertainment. Amongst some fine solo spots (Sammy’s Mr Bojangles was particularly impressive) the group numbers were the most fun, capturing the legendary banter that made the original pack such a riot. The addition of a female trio, The Burelli Sisters, added more than a little sass to proceedings and they’re frankly good enough to carry a show on their own, some superb vocal harmonies, suitably festive and glamorous costumes and simple but effective choreography all delivered with oodles of energy.
It’s da toons dat really make da show of course. On top of the aforementioned Mr Bojangles you’ve got everything from That’s Amore and Volare, slurred to perfection by Dean, to the perennial Christmas party favourite New York New York (normally played just as Cheryl from Accounts has vomited into the punch bowl before copping off with...well...anyone actually). Plus, as this is Christmas With The Rat Pack there’s a flurry of Santa-tastic tracks of course including Frank’s take on Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas accompanied in fine style, as were all the songs tonight, by The Rat Pack Big Band. Trust me, ‘yule’ love it and‘rats’ a fact (how many more puns can I shoehorn into this? ‘Franks’ for asking...).
Christmas With The Rat Pack is on at the New Alexandra Theatre until 3rd December.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Ahhhhhh the glamour of the past, when even ‘umble street urchins would wear a suit and tie to mug passers by and ladies wore stocking and suspenders. Nothing else. Just stockings and suspenders. Despite the fact that I would almost certainly have had my head blown off by Adolf and his mates I can’t help wish I’d been born in the 1920’s or 30’s. Sadly I was born in the decade that taste forgot, the 70’s and, whilst I did get to enjoy the best years for pop ever, the 80’s, I still hanker after a bit of old school glamour. That’s probably what attracts me to the Puppini Sisters, a trio of delightfully retro dames with three albums already under their (suspender) belts and a forth, Hollywood, due out in December. They’re off on a tour during the same month too (appearing at Birmingham Town Hall on the 7th), bringing some much needed festive cheer to the tired and oppressed masses.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!! Nope, I’ve not trapped my ‘bits’ in the door again, that my friends, is the sound of Mr Ty Taylor, lead singer of tonight’s headliners, Vintage Trouble, and quite possibly the new hardest working man in showbusiness. More on him (and them) in a momento, first up, after some fine soul tunes from DJ The Reverend Soul Shakedown, Kill It Kid. Like a slightly less grizzled Black Keys, they’ve got da blues brothers and sisters. Formed in the deep south, that’ll be Bath then, KIK have been a howlin’ and a hollerin’ for a few years now and, it has to be said, they make an almighty sound. Notable for having darn impressive male and female vocalists (I mean one of each, they ain’t hermaphrodites or anything...although how cool would that be eh...blues hermaphrodites...they could sing about how they dun themselves wrong), Chris and Stephanie, they’ve also got a decent stash of self penned blues belters. Pick of the bunch were You’re In My Blood, a testifyingly sultry lurve...no, make that lust, song and their last number, Let My Feet Fall Heavy, featuring some rather fine thrashy blues rock guitar solos.
Judging by the pretty decent turnout tonight Vintage Trouble are clearly enjoying a bit of a boost from their Later...appearance earlier this year, I guess touring with Bon Jovi and playing with Brian May didn’t do them any harm either. Apparently they played 80 shows over 100 days in front of a grand total of 400,000 people. Blimey. That would go some way to explaining the sharpness of the show though. Despite looking about 150 at the moment I’m far too young to have seen the legendary Stax tour and soul revues of the ‘60’s. No, honestly, I am. You can get a vague idea of the kind of raw energy from grainy clips on You Tube though. Awesome. There’s something primal about the whole thing that’s difficult to find these days. I’m guessing the ‘newness’ of the music and the hunger (metaphorical and literal) probably had a lot to do with it. Well, tonight Vintage Trouble somehow managed to conjure up that same kind of feel. Boy this band works a crowd. Within seconds they’d got hands in the air, booties shakin’ and people singing along. Kicking off with Hard Times Coming (cue one slightly mournful Brummie voice shouting “They’re already here mate”) they barely paused for breath for nearly two hours with Ty spinning, leaping and jigging about like a man possessed...or, for the Sci Fi geeks out there, like Cat from Red Dwarf. It’s a masterclass in old school soul showmanship, channelling the spirits of Otis Redding, James Brown and Mr Midnight Hour himself, Wilson Pickett.
I’m guessing most of the guys in the band are late 30’s (Ty’s 42) so they’ve clearly put in the hours over the years, hence the tip top performance. I’m also guessing that this relatively late career break means everything to them too. It shows. They played as though their lives depended on it. Highlights? Hell, the whole thing. But that guitar solo by Nalle Colt during a 10 minute plus version of Run Outta You was one of the finest bits of blues guitar work I’ve seen, intricate and soulful one second, blistering and rawkus the next.
Ty’s vocals on some of the slower numbers, stuff like Gracefully, were just sublime too...somewhere the ghost of Otis is smiling down on this dude and nodding approvingly. A frantic run through Blues Can’t Hold Me Down capped off the encore before the Academy disgorged several hundred sweaty Brummies out onto the streets. I reckon even Mr Mournful had a smile on his face by the end of this one. A truly Vintage night out all round.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Capping off a week of frantic gig going (5 in 6 nights...yes...I know...) tonight might have been a bit heavy going had it not been for the mind, body and soul lifting music of both bands on the bill. Bless ‘em. Sadly we missed opener Kristina (it was really early doors tonight...3.30 or something...) but Arabella - a local outfit from Cov with a neat line in white boy soul – were mightily impressive. Well worth a listen or catching live.
Mamas Gun have been around for about 4 years now, delighting small but perfectly informed crowds in the UK with their instantly loveable blend of soul, funk n’pop. The last time I saw them (about 18 months ago) I lamented the fact that they weren’t playing to a much bigger crowd and, whilst numbers were most definitely up, the same gripe applied this evening. As with their last gig it doesn’t seem to bother them unduly though and I doff my proverbial cap at any band that manages to keep up this kind of relentless energy and effort in the face of much smaller audiences than they deserve. That’s a rant for another day though, tonight was an ass shaking joy from start to finish.
With two albums of gorgeous hook laden soul pop now under their belts there’s plenty of material to choose from and tonight’s set was nothing less than a ‘greatest hits’ show...The Life & Soul, Finger On It, Pots Of Gold, Rocket To The Moon, Reconnection...just one awesome track after another. Soul purists and train spotters may point out the influences from previous generations of artists but Mama’s Gun ain’t a covers band merely rehashing existing tracks, they’re genuinely adding some remarkably great music to the whole soul/funk genre. Perhaps more importantly though they’ve got a knack for delivering a 100% satisfaction guaranteed live show too. I’ve been to some gigs in my time. Thousands in fact. This one has to make the top 10. No question. I normally make notes, analyse, do the odd comparison but tonight all I could do was grin like a loon and shake a tail feather...not a pretty sight I’ll grant you but there we go.
Lead singer Andy Platts is as soulful as a plate of gumbo, ‘The Professor’ (bassist Rex Horan) is possibly the coolest dude in history (check out that ‘tache...), keyboardist Dave ‘Eighties’ Burnell teases out the kind of notes Booker T would give up his MG’s for, Terry ‘Spiller’ Lewis funks his guitar like a man making sweet lurrrrrrve and drummer ‘Union’ Jack Pollitt provides the essential backbeat that drives the whole thang along. It's just a joy to watch and together they put on the show of their lives last night. In fact I positively defy anyone to go see them and not love every single frickin' second.
If you only ever go to one gig in your life, make it Mama’s Gun.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Predictably this gig was so sold out that I wouldn’t have been surprised if Lana herself hadn’t got in. Simply the hottest ticket in town. Before the delightful Miss Del Rey though the crowd were warmed up with some fine solo singer /songwriter stuff from Jake Bugg (shades of The Coral’s jaunty scouse pop in there)and Seye (“pronounced Cher”) Adelekan. Particularly liked his Legs Like Beyonce number...even if the subject of the track makes me want to seal up my ears with cement.
This evening was all about one person though. Arguably as famous right now for the endless wittering on about whether she’s ‘real’ enough or merely the product of an undersexed marketing department one thing’s for certain...in Video Games Lana Del Rey has delivered one of THE songs of the year. Oozing fading Hollywood glamour it’s an instantly memorable theme tune for the self proclaimed ‘gangster Nancy Sinatra’, set to become one of those tunes that the world and his wife tries to cover (so far Kasabian and Bombay Bicycle Club are amongst the bands that have had a bash...come on Dappy, what’s keeping you?). Despite her seemingly rapid rise to fame Lana’s actually been around for a while though. In a previous life she traded under the name of Lizzy Grant (her real name’s Elizabeth Grant), playing dates in 2008 and delivering a low key EP back in 2009. After going to ground for a while she emerged, butterfly like and plump of lip, this year with Video Games, an instant You Tube hit (6,185,854 views so far...and counting). Okay, that’s the history and the hype covered, tonight was one of the first chances to see this potential icon in the making in the flesh. Front page news or classified ad?
Flanked by two giant white balloons (acting as makeshift screens for video clips to be projected on throughout the show) she came onstage, uttered a simple “Love You” in response to some similar declarations of affection and launched into Without You/China Doll (there seems to be some debate as to what this song’s called). Boy, the girl can sing. Possessing that same kind of other worldliness that Kate Bush has, and capable of a similar level of vocal gymnastics, she’s also, it has to be said, as sexy as Jessica Rabbit. Now that’s sexy. Being a hottie will only get you so far though and having only one big song does not a career make. The haters can toddle off and diss someone else though, remarkably Video Games isn’t her best one, vocally or lyrically. Born To Die sees the first of her split personality vocals, veering from tough country tinged to little girl lost in a beat. There’s the spirit of the chanteuse in there too and, whilst she’s no Piaf just yet, it’s not difficult to see her developing that same gut wrenching emotional intensity. Oui, vraiment! Next up came Blue Jeans, a David Lynchian trawl through shattered love and the American dream starting with Lana’s full on breathy vocal then moving on to a bewitching Tori Amos wibblyness. Just gorgeous. When she sang “I will love you ‘till the end of time” you could almost hear 600 hearts skip a beat. Next up, a track she introduced as “my favourite”, Million Dollar Man. Again it’s a damaged love song but this time with more of a laid back jazzy feel, a little My Funny Valentine in places. Vocally it was arguably the performance of the night with some truly ‘raising the hairs on the back of the neck’ moments. Video Games got the reception it deserved and was 100% stronger than her slightly tentative live rendition on Jools Holland a few weeks back. I’m guessing it’s not an easy song to sing, being pretty low key for most of the time and calling for tired restraint rather than the kind of powerful vocal Lana’s so clearly capable of. But, to see one of the most strangely magical songs of the year performed with such a light touch was...well...wow. The 40’s Hollywood meets hip hop mashup of You Can Be The Boss was perhaps the least convincing song of the night but no less enjoyable for that.
I guess you can’t expect a two hour spectacular this early on in her career and Team Del Rey are clearly going for the old less is more approach so the set just scraped past the 45 minute mark ending with Off To The Races with Lana imploring to object of her affections to “kiss me on my open mouth” whilst provocatively lifting the hem of her baby doll black and white dress. Ahem...may need to have a lie down for a moment (cue 15 minute ‘break’). Right, back...anyway, quality tops quantity though and there’s simply no denying her talent. The cynic in me almost wanted to find some fault tonight but I couldn’t. Damn. I loved it. Every last second. Whether she goes on to conquer the world or ends up playing in a dive bar somewhere way, way off Hollywood Boulevard tonight’s gig will go down as something truly special.
She might be taking inspiration from some of the most glamorous stars of the past but Del Rey could well end up fulfilling a similar role in the future. Hoo-Rey for Hollywood eh?
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
You wait years for legendary post punk bands to come along and then two play the same venue in the space of a week. Yep, hot on the heels of Magazine this week’s heroes of the post punk scene are Wire, arguably even more influential than Devoto and co. First up though relative newcomers Brooklyn no wavers Talk Normal. Drummer Andrya Ambro and bassist Sarah Register have been tickling the sweet spots of hipsters for a couple of years now with their raw as an open wound sound and primal skin pounding. Tonight was no exception with tracks crashing into each other to form one continuous thump round the ears. Quite how they keep up the furious momentum without bursting into flames is a mystery. Some years ago the venerable Kaiser Chiefs predicted a riot...this is what it would sound like.
Wire always seemed to revel in shifting styles and tonight’s set was true to form, stopping off at punk rock, post punk, post rock, Krautrock and all stations in between courtesy of tracks torn from most of their albums. We had most of the original band here tonight too, with just Bruce Gilbert missing in action, his place taken by Matt Simms who was obviously tickled pink (Flag) to be there judging by the expression of sheer joy that spread across his face throughout the gig. I’d not seen the band before, given that their last Birmingham gig was over 30 years ago (at Barbarellas apparently) perhaps that's not a huge surprise. In many ways they’re an odd proposition. Lead vocalist Colin Newman looked a little like he’d turned up to deliver a presentation on the Bauhaus movement (1919-1933), with his Apple i-pad fixed on a stand in front of him to remind him of some of the lyrics. Graham Lewis has a touch of grizzled bulldog about him, well and truly adding the punk element to the mix by growling and yelping into the mic at odd intervals and stamping angrily on his FX pedals joined up by, appropriately enough, a tangle of wires. Meanwhile the metronomic Robert Gotobed provided the beats on the drums...although he started off by distractedly tapping against the metal stand of his symbol for the whole of the first track (Believer?). Newman’s not the strongest vocalist out there and it was difficult to make out all of the lyrics in amongst the sonic assault but since when has punk been about chin stroking eh? What you do get from a Wire gig is a rare glimpse of some of the original building blocks behind everyone from REM and The Cure to Blur and Henry Rollins. Capable of giving it a full on punk thrash one minute then knob twiddling wibblyness the next (sometimes in the same song) it’s an intense experience but, buried beneath it all are some killer riffs too which went on to give, amongst others Brit Poppers Elastica pretty much their whole career. Pick of the set included an ear shredding rendition of Drill with Newman firing questions at us like Paxman on speed and the fractured jangle of Map Ref 41°N 93° W which surely went on to influence REM’s distinctive sound. The new stuff stood up pretty well too, with Moreover (from this year’s Red Barked Tree album) seeing Newman’s trademark stream of lyrics in full flow against a bit of a twisted My Sharona meets Rocket From The Crypt’s On A Rope style riff.
Much of the set was short on chat. In fact they didn’t say a word until the encore when Lewis informed us that “If anyone asks for I Am The Fly...they’re fucking dead”. Someone, wisely someone standing at the back, did so prompting a wry smile from him. Happily he decided against beating the joker to death with his bass...for now at least. Clearly Wire ain’t the kind of band that takes requests. I’m guessing they’re not available for kiddies parties neither. They did give us Boiling Boy though, perhaps not the most obvious choice to kick off the encore. At over 6 minutes long it’s a hypnotising slow burn of a track which takes a while to get going but then, when it does, you don’t want it to stop. A krautpunk (if such a thing exists) classic. Thirty five years on from their debut Wire remains as barbed and individual as ever.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Given that his career lasted less than the average world tour these days it’s remarkable that Buddy Holly’s still packing ‘em in half a century after his untimely death. Amazingly the musical based on his life and songs is now into its 23rd year, beating the meagre 22 years that Buddy lived. So what’s the appeal? Why does a skinny be-spectacled kid from Lubbock, Texas deserve his place in the rock n’roll hall of fame? Well, it’s simple. Within the space of a few months he practically invented it (albeit thanks to the huge influence of dudes like Bo Diddley). It’s probably quite hard to imagine just what a kick in the crotch rock n’roll was back in the 50’s but with it came the invention of the 'teenager' and a huge surge of adrenaline that gave us (one way or another) everyone from The Beatles and The Stones to The Pistols.
Short of actually inventing a time travelling De Lorean it’s impossible to catch Buddy Holly live but, in the absence of that, this blistering run through the DNA of rock and pop does a fine job. Ostensibly it’s a ‘jukebox musical’, there to showcase the hits, but there’s a brief story of Buddy’s life weaved in between to give a bit of an insight into the dude who gave us That’ll Be The Day, Peggy Sue, Oh Boy, Rave On, Not Fade Away...each one a classic, part of the fabric of our musical heritage. This current touring version of the show perfectly captures that raw energy of these early singles, sweaty, hormone soaked and, in retrospect, surprisingly punky and rebellious. There’s a particularly powerful moment near the start of the show when Buddy and the Crickets are in a studio to record one of the typical Country & Western tunes that were the staple of the American music biz at that time. After a few lines Buddy and the boys suddenly launch into Rip It Up and you get that same shiver of excitement that teens no doubt felt over 60 years ago.
The set’s made up of a giant montage of ad images from 50’s America, a simple but incredibly effective way of transporting you back in time and some swift roll on/roll off mini sets do a neat job of recreating the claustrophobic atmosphere of those tiny recording studios where Buddy and the band worked...often for days and nights on end to nail that illusive perfect take. Roger Rowley (one of two actors taking the lead role during this tour) captured that sense of energy and ambition that Buddy had, truly rocking out like a man (albeit unknowingly) facing his last days on earth throughout the show. Melissa Keyes’ delightfully OTT performance as an Apollo Theatre performer added a lovely touch of humour and Miguel Angel and Steve Dorsett both got the crowd rocking as Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper respectively. The whole cast put in 100% though and as you’d expect from a show that’s been running, in one form or another, for nearly a quarter of a century there’s little you could find fault with. The one observation, and perhaps it’s an odd thing to mention in some ways, is the demographic of the audience. The show seemed (tonight certainly) to attract an older crowd, familiar with the music from first time round I’m guessing. Nothing wrong with that of course but it would be a shame if Buddy’s music remained the preserve of just one generation. This stuff’s timeless and, with a cast as ‘up for it’ as this lot, anyone with ears should grab a ticket whilst Buddy’s still in town. A ‘Holly' (someone's already nicked "Buddy brilliant" and "Peggy Sue-perb"...that's as good as I get) good night out for the whole family in fact.
Buddy is at the New Alexandra Theatre Birmingham until Saturday 19th November.
Monday, November 14, 2011
There are beards and there are beards. Opening act tonight, Aaron Jonah Lewis has a BEARD. Big, bushy and possibly home to a family of travellers it’s the kind of beard that threatens to take over a room. If the music thing don’t work out this dude’s a shoe in for one of those Father Christmas jobs one day. Ignoring the beard for a moment, as if you could, wow...just wow...our Aaron’s a bundle of banjo and fiddle based loveliness, playing the sort of stuff that no doubt floored the crowds back in the 1900’s. Fast forward 100 years and it’s still a powerful force. There’s something magical about banjo and fiddles, don’t ask me what, perhaps it’s just that joyful hit of sound that makes you want to jig around like you’re auditioning for Riverdance? Clad in an incongruous red tracksuit (his musical partner had a matching light blue one...nice) Aaron and chum (Ed) fiddled and banjoed their way through a good half dozen (traditional?) tracks to the slight bemusement of some of the more synth based Dolby-ites. I loved it but I guess it’s a huge leap from the electro pleasures of Hyperactive to the 100% organic sounds of the Appalachian trail. This is a point we’ll be coming back to in a moment or two...
Excluding a brief tour in 2007 (I think...my brain’s like a sieve too) Thomas Dolby’s pretty much been away from music for 20 years, busying himself with inventing polyphonic mobile phone ringtone software and, no doubt, making himself a squillionaire in the process. Given his techy background and origins as a synth pioneer some of tonight’s gig might have come as something of a surprise in places then. Whilst he’s not thrown out the digital baby with the electronic bathwater there’s more of a ‘natural’ feel to some of the music this evening, reflecting much of the rather fine new album, A Map Of The Floating City. The evening kicked off by almost going right back almost to the beginning though with a funky run through Commercial Breakup seeing Thomas grab the mic and come up to the front of the stage in full on lead singer style. The decent sized crowd gave it and him an enthusiastic welcome, befitting the return of a bloke that most of them might not have seen live for...oooh...the odd couple of decades or so.
Tonight was as much about the present as the past though and the second track of the night introduced some of the audience to a new addition to the Dolby songbook, Nothing New Under The Sun. Thomas was in particularly fine voice here (he looked pretty buff in his tight t-shirt too...I'm just saying y'know...)and the addition of more ‘live’ musicians added a little extra sparkle to the version on the new album. It was great to see a decent band around him this evening in fact, including long time collaborator Matthew Seligman on bass. Perhaps it’s not all as instantly addictive as hits like Hyperactive or She Blinded Me With Science (what could be eh?) but arguably it’s got more depth and, well, humanity, reflecting a road more travelled now and reinforcing Dolby’s reputation for songwriting that dates back to more thought provoking stuff like One Of Our Submarines, given a particularly poignant airing tonight (today was Rememberance Sunday after all) and beefed up nicely with a little extra live bass. Next another newbie, A Jealous Thing Called Love and here it’s time to pause for a mo to mull over the synth vs live instrument debate. This track’s got a lush Herb Alpert kinda feel (you know, that gently parping trumpet sound) tonight played on a synth (like it is on the record I guess). It works but, given the ‘feel’ of the track, the muso in me couldn’t help yearning for a live trumpet. Of course humping around a band ain’t cheap and I guess that’s part of the issue but it would be interesting to see a...dare I say it...synth free Dolby show, or at least a section of the show that dispensed with the electronic wizardry for the tracks that really suit it, like this one. It's an observation rather than a grumble but, from time to time, especially when Aaron returned to the stage to do his thang, that slight clash between the two worlds was there.
On top of the music the set was liberally scattered with charming little anecdotes about lost lovers, turkey hot dogs, Welsh eco hippies and mad scientists in between a pleasing mix of old and new songs that had plenty to please the faithful die-hard Dolby fans, My Brain Is Like A Sieve, I Scare Myself, Europa and The Pirate Twins, I Love You Goodbye and, of course, Hyperactive and She Blinded Me With Science...surely two of the most joyful hits of the original synthpop era? Several of the new songs are already starting to take hold now too though with Toadlicker, admittedly an odd proposition...Dolby does Bluegrass...and encore opener, the mariachi/techno mashup of Spice Trail both deservedly going down a storm. As bed was beckoning the set ended, appropriately enough with Silk Pyjamas from 1992...Dolby goes Zydeco (he’s got form when it comes to this genre hopping business). It’s blinking great to have him back, as a songwriter and performer, and with a Map Of The Floating City having clearly got his creative juices flowing again let’s hope it’s not another 20 years before his next release eh?
Friday, November 11, 2011
If you missed post punk legends Magazine in Birmingham this week, Birmingham Promoters have another must see band next week, the mighty Wire in the intimate setting of the Temple at the HMV Institute. One of those bands you really must catch before checking in with the grim reaper, they formed during the white heat of the original punk explosion and went on to release three of the most important of that era, Pink Flag (’77), Chairs Missing (’78) and 154 (’79).
Want to know how influential they were? Recognise the tune above this waffle? How about this one.
Yep, Elastica's Line Up and Blur's Girls and Boys were both, let's say 'inspired' by these tracks. Actually, unsurprisingly really, Elastica got their asses sued for it too.
The current touring line up features 3 out of the 4 original members including vocalists Newman and Lewis as well as drummer Robert Gotobed. I strongly suggest that you...ahem...getoutofbed and get down there.
Tickets available from those lovely folk at Birmingham Promoters.
Tonight’s review is brought to you by the words ‘texture’ and ‘soundscape’. Everytime I mention one of these words you’re heartily encouraged to down a shot of Absinthe. TEXTURE! SOUNDSCAPE! TEXTURETEXTURETEXTURETEXTURE! There, now isn’t that better, blurrier I bet, but better.
First up Braids, who wove a multi-textured soundscape (yes you’re right, I’m just being silly now) with lovely echoes of late 80’s bedroom romantics Cocteau Twins. Possibly the only Canadians who aren’t part of the sprawling Broken Social Scene collective they take dreamy electronica to a whole new level with each member of the band seemingly having their own bit of knob twiddling kit to hand to twist and mutate music or vocals into wonderful new sounds. Amongst all this slightly trippy sonic experimentation lead vocalist Raphaelle Standell-Preston goes all Bjork on our ass, veering from an ickle girl lost quiet voice to a RUDDY LOUD ONE. It’s all quite beautiful, a little like a fucked up fairytale soundtrack...in fact if Disney ever decided to hook up with David Lynch I reckon Braids would be a shoe-in for the music. Set highlight was a glorious track called Glass Deers, a mere 8 minutes long it begins with minimalistic pips (a little like an elongated engaged tone on a telephone) before building into a glittery crystalline landscape that’s strangely interrupted by Raphaelle informing us in her best little girl voice that’s she’s “fucked up”. Then she goes a bit nuts (shades of Bjork again) before reverting back to that sweet innocence of hers. Fan-frickin-tastic.
Now three albums into their career Wild Beasts are finally getting more of the mass appreciation that their particular breed of atmospheric pastoral pop so richly deserves. Notable for, amongst other things, the testicles in a vice (don’t try it kids...trust me) falsetto vocals of Hayden Thomas they’ve quietly crafted some stunningly beautiful tracks peaking with one of this year’s best singles Bed Of Nails. Proper lush. With the room rammed to capacity (seriously, people were hanging off the ceiling) a retina scorching blast of white light accompanied the band’s entry as they kicked off proceedings with that very song. Not even a bit of feedback could dent the beauty of this track, a twisted love song with some truly emotastic lyrics “Ink up the wound for a crude tattoo”, “I want my lips to blister when we kiss”...see what I mean? That’s kind of the appeal of the Beasts, perhaps inspired by the poets of their native Lake District (old Wordsworth, Coleridge and chums) they bring a touch of classical romanticism to the dirty world of pop that’s often more concerned with grinding its....eurghhh...sweaty crotch in your face. There’s a delicacy and subtleness to the whole performance that makes it a pretty intimate affair too, even with a moist sold out crowd rubbing up against you.
Like I say it’s taken a while for the world to catch up with Wild Beasts, a fact that Hayden duly noted early in the set. The last time they played Birmingham (with Adele as support!) the sort of audience in attendance tonight would have been, in his own words “impossible”. Fresh from two months overseas they seemed pretty blown away by this evening’s reception. Hayden even admitted that he found Birmingham “a romantic place...seriously...I’m not taking the piss!” Wow. Never heard Brum called romantic before. Still, we do have more canals than Venice so maybe he’s onto something? Shall I compare thee to a Summer Row? Can I take you up the Outer Circle? Hmmmm...maybe not.
Anyway, back to the music and the band took tonight as an opportunity to revisit some of their earlier stuff as well as tracks from this year’s breakthrough album, Smother. This arrangement saw vocal duties shared pretty equally between Hayden and Tom Fleming, who are kind of chalk and cheese. Whereas Hayden has that angelic falsetto Tom’s more of a gruffer Beast. It’s a rather marvellous contrast though adding (yep, get ready with the Absinthe again) a real texture and depth to it all, particularly effective tonight on early single Devil’s Crayon form the band’s first release 2008’s Limbo, Panto. New single Reach A Bit Further melded a bit of a Tears For Fears Mad World beat with a vocal worthy of Jamie from The Irrepressibles (seriously if you’ve not heard this band do yourself a favour and check them out) and was so beautiful you could kind of forgive the slightly dodgy “Lewd, crude, rude” line. Come, come now boys would what would Wordsworth say eh? A meaty run through Hooting and Howling (or maybe Hooting and Growling given Hayden’s throaty roars during the track) raised the biggest cheer of the night, prompting some spontaneous clapping along from the bewitched capacity crowd. The encore and night culminated, appropriately enough, with End Come Too Soon which, despite extending beyond its 8 minute album version, pretty much summed up the mood of the crowd.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
November’s a monumentally busy month for gigs, as bands go all out to end the year on a high before stuffing themselves with Quality Street and turkey vindaloo. Possibly both at the same time. Before all that though The Flapper plays host to yet another couple of hot, hot, hot (yes, probably vindaloo hot) bands, kicking off with Retox on Tuesday 22nd. You want anger? You want 200mph vitriolic spurts of punked up insanity? You want to have your brain removed, scrambled, kicked around a bit then shoved back into your head via your left eye socket (these are all good things by the way...). Then Retox, my friends, is the answer. Fronted by San Diego grindcore legend Justin Pearson (formerly of The Locust) the music’s inspired by all the shitty stuff that goes on in the world, so there’s more than enough to have a go at there then eh? Given the speed that the whole thing runs at tracks generally last a matter of seconds but, judging by some of the footage I’ve seen, they’re likely to be some of the intense, insane seconds of your life. Serously. Not so much a gig, more therapy for the dispossessed. That’s most of us right now, yes? Support comes from explosive Stourbridge old skool hardcorers History Of The Hawk and hotly tipped all girl four piece Pettybone, fresh from their interview feature in this week’s issue of Kerrang!
Somewhat quieter (and in many ways the ying to Retox’s yang) Capital Sun play a FREE gig on Thursday 24th.
Shades of the Manic Street Preachers on some of their stuff...classy emotive rock from the backstreets of Birmingham. Support comes from Brother & Bones, fusing folk with a meaty rock edge they’ve been described a Mumford & Sons meet The Dead Weather. You’ve got Rubicava too, on a bit of a Pavement tip. As if that wasn’t enough our chums from Goodnight Lenin are on the ones and twos spinning some hardcore death metal spazzcore...possibly. So there you have it, two nights, two cracking gigs and one lovely venue. Enjoy.
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
One of the original, and hugely influential, post-punk bands Magazine split up in 1981 after an all too brief four year career only to return nearly three decades later. Now that’s a decent break up eh? That’s how you do it Stone Roses...15 years...pah...that’s barely an intermission. During their initial incarnation Magazine cemented their place in post-punk history with the truly seminal single Shot By Both Sides and a handful of critically acclaimed left field albums before vocalist and ex Buzzcock Howard Devoto buggered off to pursue a solo career then form another band, Luxuria in 1988. There, that’s got to be worth a few points at a pop pub quiz one day eh? Here endeth the lesson.
Before Magazine though openers In Fear Of Olive warmed up the crowd nicely with some fine blues rock, Americana and a little bit of good ol' country twang. Not sure of the name of the first track they played but it was a belter, with an extended blues jam threatening to go on all night. I wouldn’t have minded to be honest, I do love a good jam. Elsewhere they made the best use of the fact that all four band members can more than carry a tune with some lush four part harmonies. A spirited cover of Cash’s Folsom Prison Blues won over some of the aging punks in the audience and the set ended with the odd cries of “more”, a rarity for any opening act eh?
With the room stuffed to the rafters with men of a certain age, many of whom had clearly waited the odd decade or three to see the band, Magazine received a bit of a hero’s welcome. The love was handsomely returned with opening number, Definitive Gaze, spiky cut throat guitars, wibbly synths and surprisingly complex rhythms and shifts in timing providing the perfect soundtrack for Devoto to prowl the stage slowly revealing placards bearing the legends “Let’s fly away to the world” and “You do the meaning”. It’s safe to say that Devoto’s not got the most conventionally tuneful voice in the world (although it seems a hell of a lot stronger now than it was back in the day), but then again neither have many of the more interesting artists around. What he lacks in the old ‘do-re-mi-fa-sol-la-si-do’ talent he more than makes up for in effort and charisma though, illustrating the songs expressively with his hands and constantly wandering the stage. He looks a little like Dr Evil from Austin Powers these days, much more preferable to the balding monk look he sported in the late 70’s. “Welcome to Magazine version 6.0” he proclaimed, drawing the number 6.0 in the air just in case we hadn’t got the message. I half expected him to follow it up with by putting his little finger in his mouth and demanding $100billion or he’d destroy the earth. Instead what followed was a masterclass in post-punk, reminding the faithful of just why this band had meant so much to them 30 years ago and introducing a few newcomers (to be honest most of the crowd seemed to belong to the former category though) to a dozen or so musical gems. Most of the tracks were plucked from the original era albums but tonight wasn’t just a history lesson. Yep, they’ve recorded a new album too, No Thyself. “We’ve been around a long time as a band so it was easy this time...I’M LYING!” explained Howard before launching into one of the newbies Always Happening In English, which actually sat pretty comfortably next to its older brothers and sisters. It’s the classics that really got the juices flowing though. A Song From Under The Floorboards seemed even more potent tonight, with keyboardist Dave Formula bashing away dementedly and Devoto spitting the self hating/self inflating lyrics like poison from a dart. Philadelphia combined lush basslines (you can see where Japan got a lot of their sound from) with more gloriously demented keyboard stabbing from Mr F and a post-punk-funk cover of Sly’s Thank You (Falletinme Be Mice Elf Again), first heard on the classic The Correct Use of Soap, neatly fused the funkiness of the original with Magazine’s own unique sound. Genius. Predictably the encore saw the ‘big hit’ (astonishingly it seems that it only got to number 41 in the charts back in 1978...wtf?!)rolled out, a furious run through Shot By Both Sides whipping the aging punks up into something of a fury and even inspiring some mild pogoing. That’s a very dangerous thing when you get past 30...trust me. Covered by such luminaries and Morrissey and Radiohead it still sounds incredibly fresh today and, remarkably, throughout tonight's gig so did the band. Over 30 years on from their original heyday this is one Magazine subscription that’s well worth renewing.
Tuesday, November 08, 2011
Hotly tipped Californians Gardens & Villa (signed to the ultracool Secretly Canadian label...always a surefire sign of quality) descend from the skies to the Hare & Hounds tomorrow night (Wednesday 9th). Cop a load of their latest release, Spacetime, a lush mix of Kraftwek, Sun Ra and George Clinton. Cosmic eh? It's enough to get ET tripping off his box...
Tickets available right here, right now for a mere £7. (given that the lovely Mr Branson wants to charge $200,000 for a quick trip into space I'd say that was a bit of a bargain eh?)
Monday, November 07, 2011
I’m well behind the curve here (no change there then) but it seems that a new band has risen from the ashes of rather fabulous local legends Scarlot Harlots. Troumaca (named after a town on the island of St Vincent...that should help you with your geography homework) is a dubbily tropical five piece featuring, I do believe, all of the former Harlots. Musically there’s not much out there to listen to yet but this incendiary gem’s just popped up on Soundcloud. Seemingly inspired by the recent riots and the systematic rotting of civilisation caused by the pursuit of filthy lucre it’s an all too rare example of a current band tackling some of the bigger issues of the day. And boy oh boy are there some big issues out there. Quite why we’re not seeing a rebirth of the kind of anger and energy that birthed the whole punk scene and, a few years on from that, Billy Bragg and the whole Red Wedge thang, is a mystery to me. Maybe, tough as times may get over the coming years, things aren’t as bad as they were back then. Or maybe, just maybe we’re all far too busy Facebooking, Twittering, X Factoring our lives away to see what’s actually going on eh? Hmmmm. Anyway, this ain’t a political blog, not yet anyway (come the revolution brothers and sisters...just as long as the revolution involves a nice G & T, some nibbles and the Antiques Roadshow). The important thing is that music could and should provide a mighty voice of protest right now and, well, Troumaca could well be it. Failing that they’ll still be a darn good bet if you just fancy shaking your rump as the world collapses around your ears. One’s to watch. Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrre!!!!
PS: There's a rather fine free Troumaca mixtape to download too.
Wednesday, November 02, 2011
Machine’s out on November 14th on Anomie Belle Records
Next up Crystal Fighters Basque Hop belter Champion Sound. Yeah, alright I know this tracks been around for a while now but it’s being re-released with a pretty new video so that’s enough of an excuse for me to stick it up again. If you’ve been lucky enough to see ‘em during the festival season this’ll bring back some mightily happy memories. I have it on good authority that they’re off to record their second album any day now. The soundtrack to Summer 2012 by any chance?
Champion Sound is released 14th November 2011 via Zirkulo/P.I.A.S
Coming off like Eartha Kitts granddaughter Ruby Goe’s Get On It is pretty much the perfect 'getting ready for a Saturday night on the razzle' record. A bit of dubstep, some vocoder, a party, party, party chorus and a neat build to climax with that last swig of Lambrini just before you head out the door. Yes, Lambrini, I'm a classy girl. Actually I'm neither classy nor a girl but what the hell.
Ruby Goe - Get On It by rubygoe
Get On It is out on the 14th November on Goe Music.
This is great. Seriously. Roman Holiday by Fanzine. Slacker pop of the finest order. Scuzzy lo-fi guitars, ever so slightly stoned vocals and the sort of vibe that makes you want to make bongs out of beer cans. Play this to your mates and be instantly at least 86% cooler. At least.
Roman Holiday is out on Fat Possum on 22nd November and the band’s on tour in the good old UK throughout the month.
Tuesday, November 01, 2011
Yes, Wild Beasts are on the loose again, roaming the UK and drawing in unsuspecting punters with that bewitching falsetto of theirs. If you’ve not seen them live yet you’ve missed one of the best bands around right now and, with their third album Smother containing the simply sublime Bed of Nails, they’ve delivered the record of their career to date.
With a voice like a less histrionic Anthony lead Beast Hayden ends more shivers down ya spine than an ice cube enema whilst his fellow Wild ones weave an atmospheric multi layered tapestry of pure beauty.
Good eh? They play the HMV Institute in Birmingham on Thursday 10th November, a suitably beautiful venue in many ways, and at the time of writing this tickets are still available I think. Hang on. Yes. Still available. I’ll just check one more time. Yes, still there. Go see’em, trust me on this one. Awesomely good.
PS: Support comes from the hotly tipped Braids too. A little like an edgier Cocteau Twins...ask your granddad...he’ll tell you.
Monday, October 31, 2011
If you need waking up cop a listen to this track from Leeds based metal math jazz (experi)mentalists trioVD, it’s the kind of noise you’d get if a jazz band and metal band went on a two day speed bender together. For that added epileptic touch why not try watching the video at the same time eh? Bonkers but really rather brilliant n'est ce pas? It’s made me see Tulisa is a whole new light...
They’ve got an EP out on Naim Edge on 14th November. Entitled X it’s their...er...tribute to the current judging panel on everyone’s favourite ‘talent’ show. Tulisa’s the maddest one but Barlow comes a close second. Life imitating art imitating life etc.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
It's Friday! The clocks go back this weekend! An extra hour in bed. Hurrah! But then again it gets dark at lunchtime. Boo! I don’t know about you but I always find the effort required to prise my sorry old ass off the sofa to go out to a gig increases exponentially (yes, I’ve been reading the dictionary again) once BST does one for another year, especially given the dazzling entertainment on offer on telly these days. Is every area of Britain going to get its own ‘reality’ show? Where’s Birmingham’s eh? I vote for calling it ‘Taking It Up The Brum’, an in depth look at the lives and loves of the strange creatures that inhabit Broad Street. Watch with amazement as ‘Big’ Steve cops off with Cheryl from Accounts on a work’s night out, hide behind the cushions as Kylie, Tracie and Stacy totter unsteadily between the rows of illegal ‘taxis’, trying to negotiate a trip home for a handjob (do you know how hard it is to get jizz out of a Primark boobtube?) and pluck out your own eyeballs at the vision of some old biffa in a thong flashing at Nick Owen enjoying a cheeky half of real ale at Spoonies before vomiting all over the fruit machine. ‘Taking It Up The Brum’, come on Channel 5, let’s make the magic happen.
Anyway, happily The Rainbow is as far away from the festering river of filth that is Broad Street as you can get in the City centre and tonight’s bill kicks off with the slightly scarily named Resistant Regime. This is the kind of music you get blasting out of pimped up rides down the mean streets, beat heavy, lyrically edgy and in thrall to the great gods of rap. A bit of a Birmingham collective they’ve got some decent sounds and words going on with Take Notes and Everyday (shades of the great Ice T’s It Was A Good Day in there) really hitting the spot. I’ve said it before...and I’ll probably say it again...but whilst Birmingham’s clearly a bit of a hotbed of talent when it comes to the whole rap/hip hop thang there’s still a bit of a disconnect between the core live music scene in the City and dudes like this though. Kudos to Birmingham Promoters for giving them a slot. Let’s see more of it eh?
Next up HEARTS (in CAPITALS...that’s most IMPORTANT). Last seen supporting Cults earlier in the year at the Hairy Hounds I’d kind of forgotten how good they were. A boy/girl synth/guitar duo with a little Crystal Castles/The Knife/The Kills in the mix they blend the rocky element with the more clinical electro feel better than most bands I’ve seen. The female vocalist is blessed with one of those voices that sounds slightly detached but capable of conveying strong emotions at the same time, adding in the odd Florence-ish flourish for good measure. Pick of the set once again was the piano driven Ice, an instantly catchy piece of atmospheric rock n’bass.
Finally and, finger on the pulse as ever, a new name to me despite having been around for a few years it’s Man Like Me. As soon as I found out that they were dudes who’d bought Jona Lewie’s antisocial anthem You’ll Always Find Me In The Kitchen At Parties back to life I was pretty much sold on them. A quick trawl through You Tube uncovered some of the most fun tunes laid down since Madness went one step beyond. Rap, brass, synth, joyful laugh out loud piss taking lyrics...what’s not to like. Sure their tongues are embedded firmly in their cheeks for a lot of the set but who says music’s gotta be serious all the time? Boy, we could all do with a laugh right now eh? That being said, whilst some of the tunes sail pretty close to the rocky cliffs of ‘novelty’, they manage to be catchy without making you feel all, you know, dirty inside. A neat trick if you can do it. In fact, a little like fellow rap jokers America’s Ugly Duckling, they’re sort of cool despite all that larky humour.
From the instant the three of them bounced onstage The Rainbow was Party Central. Recent single Peculiar, a wry look at how fast things change (how old are this lot...late 20’s?...jeez, you should try being 117 like me), is arguably the best thing they’ve ever done. A crotch thrusting, hip shaking, hands in the air party banger it’s a glorious mix of tropicalia, rap and brass with just the merest snatch of grime for da kids. Seriously it has to be a contender for single of the year. Chucking such a massive TUUUUUUNE into the set so early might’ve backfired but to be honest the three of them put so much into the live show that there was no danger of peaking too early. The core duo of Johnny and Pete provide the jumping around rap stuff, with the Tigger-ish Johnny gradually stripping off as the night wore on (steady now ladies), whilst (and I’m not sure if he’s a full time member of the band or not) a third dude adds more of a soulful vocal. Looking at some of their other live gigs there’s sometimes up to 7 of them up there, with live brass really adding to the party atmosphere. Tonight that was all on a backing track but it would be churlish to deduct points on this score...I can’t imagine it’s easy carting a brass section around the country in the back of a van. Still pretty fresh to my ears Oh My Gosh and encore London Town came across like old mates but, to be honest, even the stuff I’d never heard has that same kind of instant appeal.
You know what, in some ways Man Like Me could be the spiritual descendants of Madness. Both are sons of Camden and both have that rare knack for fusing social commentary with bouncy, fun pop songs. Whilst Suggs and co took the sounds of Ska house parties onboard Man Like Me are inspired by the pirate radio era...jungle, drum and bass, rap, grime and all that schnizzle. But, just like the Nutty Boys, they bring something fresh and unique to it all. Hell, let’s not overanalyse it. Right now Man Like Me are the ultimate party band, a three man jukebox stuffed full of pop gold. The best night out in town? Could be...
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Sad news reaches the Aid about the demise of Doll And The Kicks. Happily they're not dead or anything...but sadly as a band they've decided to call it a day after 7 'unsigned' years.
They're one of far, far too many bands who genuinely deserved to 'make it' (whatever 'it' means these days)but who, for whatever reason, have ended up being passed over in favour of, in my humble opinion, lesser (but perhaps more lucrative in the short term)talents. A bloody nice bunch of people too.
Oh well, what can you do eh? At least, for anyone who's seen them live, they've given an all too small bunch of people some particularly memorable nights.
Good luck to all concerned and shame on the 'music biz' for getting it wrong...yet again.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Loving this track at the moment. Man Like Me's Peculiar is a poptastic mix of Madness, Vampire Weekend and Talking Heads. And if that's not enough to float your boat they were the people who breathed new life into Jona Lewie's seminal Always In The Kitchen At Parties for that Ikea ad too. You know...this one...
Happily they've made it out of the kitchen, well I'm assuming they have as they're appearing at The Rainbow this Friday night. Either that or its all round to Jona Lewie's place...bring your own bottle, no shagging under the stairs and if you have to be sick please don't do it in the fishpond.
Tickets from Birmingham Promoters for a mere fiver right now (more on the door).
What a bill. What a bargain too. Free. That’s a bargain in my book. Yep, thanks to the good folk at Birmingham Promoters tonight’s show presented three of the best voices in the business right now, for absolutely bugger all. Result.
Despite a self confessed obsession with melancholy songs (most of which seem to about break ups and crappy men) Tara Chinn’s set left me feeling like I’d been wrapped up in a duvet and fed chocolates for a week. That’s a very good thing by the way. She’s got a soulful, jazzy tinge to her voice, perfectly suited to the anthems for the broken hearted that form the core of her self penned material. All of the songs impressed but it was Cigarettes and Gin that stole the show. With echoes of the legendary Patsy Cline and Billie Holliday it’s the greatest song Amy Winehouse never wrote and tonight Tara’s vocal on this track just dripped tears. Beautiful stuff.
Next up the angel voiced Vijay Kishore, arguably one of the most understated talents you’re ever likely to see. Whilst most singers, especially ones as special as Vijay, would kick off their set with a bit of a “Hello The Yardbird, how ya doin’ out there...nice to see you...looking good etc”, Vijay just wanders on and begins to strum his guitar like he’s tuning up or something. It’s only when he opens his mouth that you know the set’s underway. Even then you’re not sure. Maybe it’s this lack of razzamatazz that’s holding him back (come on, let’s face it, he should so much bigger than he is right now)? It certainly isn’t his voice. Vijay’s blessed with one of the most heavenly male vocals on the planet, imagine a more angelic Jeff Buckley crossed with Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and you’ve got some idea of the sound. Seemingly lost in music throughout yet another stunning set you get the impression that singing’s a kind of therapy for him. Anyone who tunes in to listen might well feel the same way...
Last up, and frankly a huge surprise to catch someone so obviously on the cusp of massive success at a freebie gig on a damp Tuesday evening, it’s Michael Kiwanuka. You might’ve heard one of two of his tracks already, especially the folky I’m Getting Ready and Tell Me A Tale (the twin highlights of tonight's set)...which sounds so authentically 70’s on record you’d swear it’d just been unearthed by some obsessed crate digger in the US. Bringing a little reggae, a little folk and whole load of soul to the table Kiwanuka’s music’s a much needed salve to these troubled times (as I write this the European...and quite possibly the global economy...seems on the brink of total collapse). In other words it’s a case of right sound, right time and, whilst it’s far too early to herald his as yet unreleased debut album as a classic, judging by tonight’s set the signs are good. Kicking off with the distinctly Bill Withers-ish I’ll Get Along (Michael makes no secret of the fact that Withers is a huge inspiration to him) its laid back charm and his easy delivery chill the stressed out soul and warm even the coldest hearts. Unusually for a gig (especially a freebie) the packed out room was generally as quiet and still as St Paul’s, not many artists these days command (or receive) that kind of respect. Of course this is a bit of low key tour, warming up the world for the full on Kiwanuka experience at a later date no doubt, so all of the songs were stripped back, just Michael on guitar and his buddy on bass. Without its frankly top notch Van Morrison meets Stax production Tell Me A Tale was still awesomely fine but I couldn’t help yearn for the icing on the cake. Perhaps that’s the only mild criticism I can level at tonight really (the upside is that get to hear the voice as naked as newborn), I kept wondering just what all of these tracks are going to sound like on record (or with a full band...now that’s a mouth watering prospect). Get that right and, with these songs and that vocal, you’ve got a debut that’s going to be well worth raving about.