Brite Lights / Prospect Lane / The Policy / Guile The Rainbow Digbeth Friday 31st August 2007

Thanks to some last minute changes to my 'hectic' 'social' 'life' I managed to fit in a third visit to Kamikaze!'s Club 444. Judging by the healthy crowds it's all going rather well and the vibe seems a lot more positive than some of the local music nights I've been to over the years. Tonight was kicked off by Guile, a fairly new band (just over year old) from sunny Cannock (they have a 'Chase' there I believe...nope, I have no idea either) with a cool line in Doors-y stoner rock. When they hit their stride on tracks like How Long it all comes together really well. A tad nervous at first they seemed to relax more as the gig went on. As they're gigging like bastards over the next few months I can only see them getting stronger. Whilst Guile hid their musical light under a bushel a little, The Policy had no such fear. Despite the fact that the lead singer looked like he'd just come straight from work (I'm sure he had his work suit on) he put on the most energetic performance of the night. The Policy reminded me a little of some of the bands that were around in the late 80's (Cutting Crew springs to mind). A bit of synth, choppy guitars (their guitarist seemed rather good to me), keen vocals...you know the kind of thing. Despite...or maybe because of the work suit...I rather enjoyed it. The proof of the pudding? At one point lead Policy (a chappie called Chris Hayden) asked the crowd if the night had been worth the £4 so far. There were a fair number of positive responses - including mine. Next up were Prospect Lane (pictured)- one of the better bands around in Birmingham at the moment in my humble opinion. Despite having a bit of a mare with technology, microphone leads, keyboards, beer bottles...they still put on a fine performance. Lady Baron fancies the lead singer too...so it's all good. I'd probably lose the cover version though (Alice Deejay's Better Off Alone) as their own material is a hell of a lot stronger. The last track they played (Isolation) really is a cracker (ya gotta love that vocoder) and I have high hopes for them. That just left Brite Lites. As polished as you'd expect a band to be after supporting INXS in the Symphony Hall...hang on...INXS...Michael do dah...fist of fury and all that...surely he's, well, dead. Oh well. Clearly you can't keep a good man down. Anyway, the Lites have the same kind of anthemic quality that the Manics have (listen to This Town in particular)and echoes of early Stereophonics (More Life in a Tramps Vest era). Fans of either band will love 'em.

After making a concerted effort I'm starting to get much more of a feel for the 'local' music scene nowadays. There's some really good stuff out there and these nights are a much needed showcase in a decent venue. I can personally vouch for Mr Derry on 14th September and the glorious Reverie Strings on 5th October as particular highlights in the calendar.

Why the music business is like Bullseye...

I was watching Bullseye last night (the old skool version with Jim 'Super, Smashing, Great' Bowen'), just after my chicken kebab and pint of Strongbow, and just before leaving for a gig and it struck me. The music industry is a lot like Bullseye. Bear with me here...at one point Uncle Jim looked at the camera after a couple of contestants had scored about 6 with 37 darts and said ' well, never mind, you've entertained around 12milion people'...I'll say that again ' 12 million people'. Bullseye had 12 million viewers. WTF? Nowadays a show does well to get around 3 or 4 million viewers. I guess the new version of Bullseye gets about 300. Even the soaps struggle to hit much more than 10million...7 or 8 million down on just a few years ago. Of course the reason is simple. Most of us have 30 + channels to watch, broadband to dick around with, blogs to read (or write), millions of DVD's blah blah blah. Some of us even go out once in a while. Now your average band has to compete with all of this for your attention. Most set up a My Space page. Nothing wrong with that. They get out and play, a lot of friends and family come to see them, a few oddballs like me turn up...but then what? In the past it all seemed pretty straightforward. Difficult, I'll give you that, but straightforward. You gig, an A & R man spots you...or you pester the life out of every record label around, then you get signed, Radio One plays you, you go on Top of The Pops, you snort coke off the back of Bangkok lady boys, you buy a farm in Essex and breed gerbils. Easy. But now, with millions - literally - of bands right there at the click of a mouse how the hell do you get anywhere? I've blogged on this subject quite a few times now and no one's come up with an answer (cos there isn't one). Yes of course there's still a music business, there are probably more 'independent' record labels now than ever before and a few lucky souls do make it out of the Mire Space (nothing to do with big labels hiding in the wings pulling the strings of course) but the sad fact is that 99.99% of the bands that I've seen over the last 20 years have got nowhere...and the situation seems to be getting worse. There's now so much choice and so many 'routes to market' that you stand more chance of winning the lottery than making it in a band these days. Far from liberating musicians from the slavery of big labels it strikes me that the web will actually play right into the hands of big business. All of the A&R and building up a band stuff can be done online for very little cost then Costa Coffee or Microsoft come along, sign up the artist and flog the tunes to death to ad men to soundtrack commercials for feminine hygiene products. Er...so that's why the music business is like Bullseye.

Bella-isimo

My god...the sun is out. It's warm. There are wasps and stuff. Ice cream vans tinkle in the distance mixed with the steady bass beats pumping out of of 1001 modified Renault Clios...yes...it's Summer! I don't know about you but I'm going to get out and enjoy it...well I might end up sitting inside Atticus (cool bar in Bearwood that's hosting an 'Acoustic' day) drinking continental beers but that's just me. Anyway, before I do that here's a late Summer treat in the form of Flamboyant Bella...an up and probably coming band from Hitchin, which is, I believe, near Cambridge. The girl sounds like Sophie Ellis Bexter when she was in The Audience (before they split and she went all dancefloor assassin), the bloke sounds a bit like one of those very trendy young London blokes who are probably called Patrick something. Together with the rest of the band they make a rather ace pop / folk / indie noise. Standout tracks include Absolutely Wankered and My Skies. They are playing the Bar Academy in Birmingham (October sometime....probably on a Sunday...balls...I'll miss Antiques Roadshow...'I bought this diamond studded skull from a car boot sale for 10p in a box of bits. Is it valuable?' ...bastards agggghhhhh!!!). Enjoy.

PS: I could only find one picture of them...if you're the photographer and you object to me using it I'll gladly take it off...don't sue me...I don't have any money...it's all good PR anyway right?

DeVotchKa Bar Academy Tuesday 21st August 2007

Aaaaaahhhhhh...DeVotchKa. Watching them live is kind of like being wrapped up in a some kind of weird fantasy world...a little Mexican, a bit Russian, a touch gypsy, a snatch of classical music here and there...a bit of rock even, some of that ooompah ooompah stuff (probably Bavarian...yes that sounds convincing). It's all blended together and served with as much emotion as an audience can handle on a Tuesday evening (or any evening for that matter). There aren't many bands that can get the tears welling up inside, anything with Chris Martin in obviously, but for all the wrong reasons...they're normally caused by the pain of banging my fist into the side of my head...sorry Chris...I'm sure you're a lovely fella. Anyway, I digress, DeVotchKa are, for me, one of the few bands that seem to connect on THAT level. Even before watching the magical Little Miss Sunshine (which DeVotchKa soundtracked) the music had that cinematic, other wordly quality (yes, I used the phrase 'other worldy'...I am a wanker) and, even stood in the rather unromantic confines of Mr Academy's Bar, they still made me tingle. Anyway I'm going to stop gushing now. Pour yourself a bottle of red wine, turn out the lights, maybe get a bit naked (I'd shut the curtains first obviously) and stick on DeVotchKa...it's like all the shit don't matter no more.

Crystal Castles Barfly Birmingham Sunday (1.00am to be precise) 19th August 2007

After gay Germans and chav Yorkshire rap came mad Canadians. After catching the bonkers Dandi Wind at Rootsville and seeing Crystal Castles I'm convinced that the people of Canada are in the middle of some sort of glorious electro breakdown. Just take the influences section of the Crystal Castles My Space page 'murder, blank looks on girls and knives'. Which is actually a pretty acurate description of the band itself. Musically they sound a lot like Lene Lovich trapped inside a broken 80's arcade game (just listen to Alice Practice...there...see?), actually the visual show is a bit like that too. They've got one of those strobe lights that you can adjust the timings of, just so you can make sure that every single member of the audience has some kind of fit. Predictably I rather liked it all, but then I like gay Euro disco so what do I know?

MC Devvo / Hot Spunk Barfly Saturday 18th August 2007

Like I said last week this was never going to be a gig for chin strokers (cock strokers maybe), but it was fabulous fun darlinks. The Hot Spunk legend continues to grow like a giant throbbing schnitzel. Despite a few technical hitches (blamed on 'dodgy English CD players') the Spunk were on fine form tonight. Great adlibbing between songs, a brilliant version of I Like Boys (with a much better Pete Burns take off than on the recorded version) and a particularly Sexy Cock. Quite why I'm so drawn to gay Euro disco is a bit of a mystery to me...

Anyway, from faux German campness to fake chav superstar MC Devvo. Backed by the mysterious Marley (who looked like he was wearing one of those fake rasta wig hat combos, but was later seen wandering the club sans hat but with with very real dreds) he delivered all the hits -Crystle Meffin, Donny Soldier, Euronob...and the somewhat dubious Fuck 'em Young. Of course it's all a charming spoof, but I'm sure that one of two of the audience actually see Devvo as their very own Eminem. As Devvo himself would say 'You're a dickhead...a dickhead...hang on I'm sorry...no...you're still a dickhead'.

The Brascoes / Escobar / The Vehicles / The Mannequin Republic The Rainbow Digbeth Friday 17th August 2007

The second week of Kamikaze's Club 444 and another cracking line up of local bands. I've said it once (last week in fact) and I'll say it again (right now) 4 bands for £4...by anyone's standards, that's a freakin steal. Okay, economics lesson out the way (£1.50 for vodka and coke or bottles of Grolsch too...why can't the Academy do that huh?) on with the show. Once again I'd not heard a great deal about any of the bands, but that's part of what makes nights like this so great. You don't know what to expect. Think of it as a musical lucky dip...anyway, The Mannequin Republic were first up. They've got a really strong vocalist in Lorien Sankersingh (now that's a name...seriously...that beats yer John Smith's), at times recalling a younger James DB from the Manics. The music's melodic rock (hard not soft - you know what I mean), shades of Red Hot Chili Peppers with a dash of QOTSA in there too. Impressive set. Hot on their heels (Mannequinns have heels see, I don't just throw this together, there's real thought in every word...) came New Wave power popsters The Vehicles (pictured). Catchy choruses, strong riffs (thought I caught a snatch of The Knack's My Sharona in ther somewhere - try saying that after a few vodka and cokes) and the kind of energy that makes you want to stamp your foot on the ground like Weller did in The Jam. Even stronger live than on their My Space tracks I'd say, which is always the best way round. Hot on their wheels (see, I said this wasn't just thrown together) were the hotly tipped (and pretty popular already judging by the sudden swell in the crowd) Escobar. You can pretty much hear every song being sung back at them in stadiums - just listen to Top Of The World - you can hear it can't you? I've read in interviews that they wouldn't like being compared to Oasis. So I'm not going to. Besides, musically speaking, they're not that similar...the kind of feelings that they generate and the following that they potentially stand to gain as a result (they just could be massive) are similar though. I'd plump for The La's mixed up with first album Kasabian as a fairer comparison, but they've definately got their own sound developing too. Performance wise they put on perfect show, loads of attitude, tight as a drum and 'real' accents. I ended up liking them a lot more than I thought I was going to.

Last, but by no means least, we were treated to a great slice of The Brascoes. Older readers (or younger readers with a nose for such things) may remember a record label called Stiff. It was one of those great indie new wave labels of the late 70's, early 80's...home to Ian Dury, Elvis (no, the other one), Nick Lowe, Madness...oodles of good stuff. What the chuff am I going on about? Well, if Stiff weren't (stiff that is...it's gone the way of most indie labels), then The Brascoes deserve to be their latest signing. Tina Do The Splits is a cracking Stiff track. Listening to the selection on their My Space page they've got a much wider range than a lot of new bands though, so who knows how they're going to develop. Personally I love the spikier new wave-ish stuff...Tina Do The Splits...YAY...The Hearing Aid's Record of the week...if The Hearing Aid had such a thing.

So there we have it. Like I said at the start, another great line up of local bands. I'm going to miss the next few 'cos of random stuff and a holiday (San Francisco and Las Vegas since you ask) but you have no excuses (unless you're coming with me...) Friday nights, get yourself down The Rainbow.

Moseley Festival Saturday 11th August 2007 Moseley

Arrived at 12.30 (when the Fest was 'sposed to kick off) and there were less people in the crowd than on the stage. Why do people get to gigs hours late? Why pay your money and miss half the show? It's not as though the organisers rang you up at 12.29 and said 'Surprise! We've decided to start the show in 60 seconds!' The reason why it hacks me off time and time again is because every performer...that's EVERY performer...deserves respect for having the guts to get up there and perform. It's piss easy to go and watch, piss easy to write about it, piss easy to take piss poor pictures (I blame my camera...obviously...), but to get up there...well that takes balls my friends. That's why you'll rarely find me laying into any artist on this humble blog. I'm an observer, not a critic. Some performances I really love, many I like, a few are okay...but I recognise the work that goes into every performance, and for that every performer gets my respect. Here endeth the sermon.

Right onto the Fest itself. For £5 you can't go wrong. The fact that we were treated to loads of good music was a bonus. I won't give you a blow by blow account 'cos you'd probably get bored (I can hear the cheers of relief now) but the highlights included (in no particular order, well, alright then, in the order of appearance):

David Garside - sublime acoustic set, hints of the High Llamas on his 'full' tracks (listen to My Space ...or His Space in fact) and a soft vocal touch that recalls a more confident Nick Drake.

Little Sister (pictured) - another delightful discovery, heartwarming folk/bluegrass four piece (three today 'cos their harp player was AWOL in bonnie Edinburgh) who pulled off a brilliant version of old Elvis' Little Sister track. I just have to see the four piece show soon...

Ben Calvert - Forgotten how brilliant this guy is. Saw him last year at the Moseley Folk Festival and the memories came rushing back. Touches of the very best of Belle & Sebastian but with more grit and a slightly darker underbelly. If he doesn't get the fame he deserves expect people to be bigging him up in 20 odd years time a la Nick Drake and Vashti Bunyen. Yes, I think he's that good. Full marks for being the only group to honour Tony Wilson too.

Allies - hints of the Arctic Monkeys at first (no bad thing) before quickly revealing their own, far more interesting identity via some impressive fiddle and squeezebox playing. Ones to watch like a hawk...they're touring with Reverand and the Makers soon, my guess is that they could steal the show and come back headliners.

The Celturian - man that dude has fingers of fury. It's kind of like watching Riverdance...but with fingers...I've seen class guitar performances in my time but, well, that was something else. Just astounding.

Just Us (can't find a link for them) - Classic reggae to lift the heart and soul. Ace version of Night Nurse too. There's not enough reggae in Birmingham venues. Why not? There must be loads of great bands like this out there...it is possible to like the Dresden Dolls and Steel Pulse you know. Challenge to promoters: let's mix it up a bit more eh...or is that just me being a bit too idealistic?

360 - By this point in the event most of Mr and Mrs...sorry Ms...Moseley had naffed off home (hey, I was actually born there...I'm allowed to take the piss) so they missed 360. The organiser threatened those of us who were left to stay for the last band, and I'm glad she did. Shades of The Beat and Madness played brilliantly with the kind of 'get the crowd going' energy that got everyone (me included...there must be some worms with really bad headaches today) skanking to the best of our ability.

So, there we go. All that for a fiver...and you were allowed to bring your own food and booze in too. Result. I decided not to go to Day Two (that's today) 'cos the forecasters predicted a massive rainstorm and, after Glasto, I just couldn't face getting pissed on for 9 hours. Predictably the sun has shone like a big yellow bastard all day long. Michael Fish, Michael Schmish.

Copter / Beestung Lips / Swampmeat / Velvet Texas Cannonball The Rainbow, Digbeth Friday August 9th 2007

Wow. That's it. Maybe that should just be the entire review. Then you won't have to listen to me banging on about how great last night was. Oh well, I've already started now...too late. Firstly a big congratulations to the people behind Kamikazee Events who kicked off their Club 444 (4 bands, £4 and it all goes on until 4am) in fine style. Are you sitting comfortably? Then we'll begin...with Velvet Texas Cannonball. The name gives you a pretty good hint of what you're in for. Glorious blues rock with moments of velvety softness, then a cannonball of guitars and drum fury (served by a guy with the greatest 'dreads in music)...with a Texas twist. In all seriousness this is a seriously good band. Why the hell hadn't I heard of them before? I guess that's what these night are all about. If you love The Doors, Deep Purple, Cream...that whole late '60's early 70's classic rock era, you'll love...and I mean love...Velvet Texas Cannonball.

Next up were country/rockabilly duo Swampmeat (vocalist Danny is also the drummer in The Big Bang fact fans). The mighty T Bird provides laid back but spot on brushwork on the drums while Danny sings like the bastard son of Buddy Holly and Jerry Lee on a set of tracks that already sound like Sun studio classics. Just brilliant, simple tunes played the way they should be...with heart, soul and a large glass of the hard stuff.

Talking of hard stuff...Beestung Lips. Now here's a band...no, scratch that, make it THE band. Sitting here just a few hours after their set they have to be one of the most exciting, fucked up, mental, sick (in the right sense of the word) bands in the world. Punk is too easy a term to describe the sound. It's more like the noise a group a category A prisoners would make if they were locked in a small room just as the world was about to explode in a massive hail of nuclear missiles...on acid...it's the sound you hear in your head when you're so pissed off you want to rip out your own heart and kick it into space, it's what hell sounds like when there's a really great party going on and Satan's police come round to ask you to turn the noise down...then end up joining in and cranking it all up a notch or two. Vocalist Hetro looks like he was frozen in time (around about 1940) before being defrosted at a Black Flag gig and fed speed. Put Gallows and Beestung Lips on stage together and you'd have enough energy to power the entire fucking planet until the end of time. I loved it so much I bought the t-shirt...and the EP...and the whole fucking thing (sorry, I'm swearing a lot today...bollocks).

Right...after a much needed calming Strongbow the mighty, mighty Copter shook the stage with a furious preacher's vision of the spirit of rock n'roll ladies and gentlemen. This is a band that needs to be seen live. An instant party that takes you from the streets of Birmingham right into the dirty heart of classic American garage. As a Coldrice semi-regular (RIP the classic Bar Academy Saturday night/Sunday mornings). I've seen them oodles of times and each one is special. That's the mark of a truly great band. And the mark of a truly great night. If 444 can ever come close to repeating a bill like this (and I'm sure it can) this promises to be the kind of night that Birmingham's needed for years. The best local bands, the best local venue, the best local crowd...hell, it was the best of nights.

Tony Wilson

Just discovered that Tony Wilson - founder of Factory Records, the man 'behind' Joy Division, Happy Mondays, A Certain Ratio and pretty much everything good to come out of Manchester in the 80's has died. At 57. Christ. I know little of the man other than what I gleaned from 24 Hour Party People (the book wot he wrote and the film wot Steve Coogan starred in) and, whilst he seemed to have a bit of an ego (hell, don't we all?) he appeared to genuinely love great music to the point of losing every penny he had funding The Happy Mondays' last great opus. The bit where he agrees to the classic New Order Blue Monday 12 inch sleeve (floppy disc style) even after realising that each one costs a few pence more to produce than they can actually sell it for marks him out as a truly extraordinary character (as well as a pretty shite businessman) too. But I know which one I'd rather be. Rest in peace Tony. Actually, no, fuck it, get up there, start a new label and form a supergroup with ian Curtis on vocals, Keith Moon on drums, Hendrix on guitar and Bob The Bass Thing on, well, bass.

Simon Bookish...brilliantish

Not sure if I've ever mentioned 'the Bookish' here before, but even if I have he's well worth a fresh namecheck as his album Trainwreck/Raincheck is being / has been reissued. The mighty NME even reviewed it today and gave it a 'sitting on the fence' 6 out of 10. Bookish (real name Leo Chadburn) looks - and sounds come to think of it - a little like a young Kenneth Williams (before he went into Carry On overdrive). Musically, well I guess there's bits of ambient stuff going on, bleepy keyboards that sometimes sound like they've been played by a 3 year old on acid (but actually have all kinds of compex musical patterns going on - in my addled brain anyway), oddball samples and lyrics that make you go ooooh (as opposed to Things That Make You Go Hmmmm...big shout out to all you C & C Music Factory fans out there). If you ever get a chance to listen to Fantastic Piss Experiment...then you should do...'cos it's ace. As I can't find it at the mo you'll have to make do with a video of Bookish live...singing Interview. Enjoy.

'ear we go again...

Some time ago I made the mistake of buying some of those 'in ear' headphones for my iPod (other players are available). They came with three sets of rubber nipple thingies, you're supposed to select the perfect fit for your ear (everyone knows their ear hole size right?), slip one onto each earphone then away you go. Genius. Except I keep losing the bloody things. How? I don't know. Somewhere between ear and tasteful carrying pouch one of them keeps making a break for freedom. Normally I track him down, cowering under a chair or something. But today the little bastard finally got away leaving me with just one good ear. I then had to face my long walk home either listening to stuff in mono or holding the rubberless 'phone in place with my hand (risking piercing my brain with the hard plastic spike that the rubber bit normally slides onto) and probably getting arrested for looking like even more of a looney tune than normal. Crap. Now I don't have the right size of rubber thingy to fit into my ear, so I'll probably have to spend thousands of pounds on expensive earhole surgery...or find another rubber thingy...which will probably cost even more. I chose to walk home in silence in the end...well I say silence, if you can count police cars screaming past, people honking at each other and junkie crack whores trying to scrounge money off me as silence. Arse. Crap. Arse!!!! And relax...

Hot Spunk

No, I haven't gone into the porn game. Hot Spunk is a great name for a band and - even if they are pretending to be gay and from Germany - their video is most amusing. I suspect they are from Birmingham...and one of them is called Sam...but I can't find any 'hard' evidence...so, in the meantime, head over to enjoy the video and tunes - pure camp silliness for a hot and sweaty Sunday afternoon. Das is indeed gud.

NB: They're playing the Barfly in Brum on August 18th with MC Devvo and Shady Piez...not one for the chin stroking muso...but right up my passage...

The Hearing Aid is 100!

Yes, it's true...this is the 100th post. Right, gotta say something important...I feel the hand of history on my shoulder...no that won't do at all...'tis better to have blogged and sucked than to have never blogged at all...hmmmm...nope, that's bollocks too. By a strange quirk of fate this post coincides with a far more momentous one from Pete Ashton. He's been blogging for 7 years! 7 years...good grief. I bet if you added up every post you'd have the makings of an impressive book or two. That's a serious body of work. A Letts Notes kind of word mountain. Dissertation-tastic etc.

I've been mulling over the value of blogs over the last few days, s'funny business really. Here we all are locked in our little rooms tippy typing away, most of what we all write probably only gets read by a handful of people, but then I guess Van Gogh was only appreciated by a select few when he was around...perhaps somewhere amongst the millions (billions?) of bloggers there's a genius trying to get out. Obviously, in my case, he's not trying very hard. The 'traditional' media are all busily trying to make some sense of it too. A lot of the articles are quite snotty, focussing on wannabe celebs and sweet old people who've accidently bought a computer thinking it was a toaster and found themselves on You Tube when they've tried to heat up a muffin. Why do I blog? Hmmm...you want honesty...you want the raw truth...you want me to break down screaming and say that it's a way of coping with the soul destroying annonymity of modern life? Nope. In reality it's all just a bit of fun. I have a mind like a...oh what's that thing called (Bob Monkhouse would be spinning in his grave...if he hadn't been exhumed to star in adverts about bottoms)...so this site acts as a nice little reminder of the bands I've been to see. If people drift by and read something, then check out a band I like and like it too then that's a bonus. I've discovered some great bands that way (Maxi Geil & Playcolt for one...thanks to Pete and his podcasts...they were rather good...see how I managed to make this post sort of about music...kind of...professional eh?). So (in the style of that really annoying Yellow Pages ad featuring a token northern bloke talking over lots of slo mo footage of cake makers and artificial scrotum sellers) here's to all the bloggers, the My Space bands and You Tubers, here's to the Second Lifers, the uploaders and ebayers...(best not to mention the free porn sites...oh balls).

Lo-Fi-Fnk / Johnny Foreigner The Rainbow, Digbeth Tuesday 31st July 2007

Second time at the Rainbow in recent months (after not going there for years) and once again I was attracted by the musical honeypot that is 'Chicks Dig Jerks'. After the powercut-tastic Datarock gig this one went swimmingly well. Kicked off in fine fettle (lord knows why I'm talking like this today) by shouty indie punk trio Johnny Foreigner, the swelling crowd (impressive for a Tuesday night) were treated to a full on boy/girl vocal punch up with drums from the very heart of hell (oh I give up this review isn't going to make any sense at all...let's just go along for the ride eh?). JF reminded me a bit of Carter USM tonight or a young couple having a blazing row outside The Dog and Duck. But with music. I like. Current single Yes You Talk Too Fast is class - play it loud and wake up your neighbours from their Coldplay induced coma. Of course I don't know your neighbours...they may be into Japanese Thrash Techno for all I know...in which case I think they'd like JF. So there.

No need for a second support band before the main event...'cos Lo-Fi-Fnk were doubly ace. I've seen them described as a gay Daft Punk somewhere before...probably in one of my cider induced dreams...and that's a fairly accurate description. Gentle Euro accented vocals (Swedish to be precise), classic early 80's style keyboards and some funky basslines all mixed up into a gorgeous fondue of musical loveliness. I thought there were two of them but they now seem to have expanded to a trio, which funked up the live show a notch or two. Change Channel was a particular highlight, but I loved the last one too (something with 'friend' in the title). Fabulous fun...with a capital Fnk.

Now a word on the lovely crowd. Despite clearly being amongst some trendy souls there was none of the attitude that you might expect. Everyone just seemed to be there to have a good time. Even my shameful attempt at dancing failed to attract any derision (as far as I could tell...I was too busy busting some moves not seen since 1982, including my patent running on the spot dance...no I'm not going to show you). So, Chicks Dig Jerks, I dig you (hmmm that's kind of sweet and cheesy at the same time, like chocolate and chedder).

New Young Pony Club...giddy up a sing song

Just recently everytime I've heard a track that naggingly gets stuck in my brain it seems to have been by one group - New Young Pony Club. 'The Bomb', 'Ice Cream', 'Hiding On The Staircase', 'Get Dancey'...rather like the first Scissor Sisters album NYPC seem to have released a greatest hits collection rather than just a debut. I don't know a great deal about them, but I'm sure I read a few weeks ago that 'wonderful' radio one refused to play one of their tracks because they had filled their quota of female fronted brands. A year or so back I had the great fortune to meet Liz from Ladyfuzz (RIP...the band, not Liz) who told me a similar tale but swore me to secracy lest the people in power refuse to play any of their tracks ever (now they've split I guess she won't mind me sharing that nugget). It would be a crime if NYPC missed out on the success they deserve just 'cos the UK's biggest radio station is run by a bunch of quota munching payola whores (now that's a great name for a band..ladies and gentlemen...I give you The Quota Munching Payola Whores). Anyway, NYPC, great band and all that...new wavey with all that 2007 retro 80's coolness that the kids have going on. As ever there are some videos to watch in full Hearing Aid vision to the left of this nonesense. Enjoy.

NB: Respect due to The Bobby Dazzler and Junior Dazzler for telling me about them about 80 years ago...

Shiny Toy Guns / Neon Plastix / Trailer / Sevenball - Barfly Birmingham Monday 23rd July 2007

Monday night gigs. Proper hardcore. In fact I reckon that Monday's are the new Friday...or is that Thursday? Anyway, onto the matter in hand. La musica. Das musique. Der tunes. And tonight had a fair old selection. Four quality bands kicking off with Sevenball, a really strong blues rock group that, vocally especially, reminded me of Pearl Jam in places. Musically they're mining a much deeper seam than that though, with some licks that the Zep would be proud of and a undercurrent of old school country with some nice slide guitar here and there. It's easy to do this style of music and make it sound a little tired, but Sevenball nailed it for me and would be worthy headliners on a more rock based bill than this one. They like John Martyn too...and John Martyn is godlike. The rest of the bands had more of a synthy vibe going on, starting with Trailer all the way from Coventry, which seems to be going through a bit of a purple (or should that be sky blue...that's the only thing I know about football by the way) patch now in terms of music. Blending the thumping beats of Underworld with the anthemic kind of tracks that Kasabian bang out together with a bit of Liam swagger, Trailer seem to have a whole album's worth of tracks that deserve your ears (ears meet Trailer, Trailer meet ears...now go get a room). 'Set the Country on Fire' in particular has the kind of energy and positivity that I've not really heard since the glory days of Asian Dub Foundation. Ace. They gave out free CD's at the end too...which always gets my vote. Hot on their heels came Doncaster disco house gods Neon Plastix. Chuff me I love this band. Pulp meets the Klaxons in a house party and get pissed up on cheap red wine. Gentlemans Gold has that brilliant synth guitar thing that Classix Nouveux had going on (ask your grandads). Singer Patrick performed this track in the audience, with a lucky few being allowed to press the buttons on his sampler, kicking off the vocal samples whilst the rest of the band played live on stage. My new favourite group? Could be.

That just left Shiny Toy Guns. Cue the dry ice...lot's of it (see the picture above). It's a measure of this band's ambitions I reckon...the more dry ice the bigger the band will be. Legend has it that they tour like motherfuckers and have built a loyal fanbase a la Arctic Monkeys (ie using My Space). Rock electronica with shades of MCR and even PSB (that's My Chemical Romance and Pet Shop Boys...or is that just me?) they're set for stadiums...and deservedly so. It's nice to have a band with strong female and male vocals, add strong dance beats, live drums (drummed by a very blokey sort of chap sporting a rather nice line in shocking pink eye shadow) and lyrics that should have emo kids snogging new ravers all over the shop and you've got a potent mix. Full marks for a sublime cover of Depeche Mode's 'Stripped' by the way. So there you go. Monday really is the new Friday. Work? Pah! What better way to start your week than a blues/rock/disco/emo/synth/Blackthorn fuelled party? (my thanks must go out to the lovely bar lady who served me throughout the night too...they really are a nice bunch at the Barfly).

Kid Sister...oh yes we keepin' it fresh

For those who like their rap this side of Missy E to the L to the...oh alright....you get the picture...I have great pleasure in introducing to the UK Chicago's own Kid Sister (actually I may not be introducing her...I have no idea...for all I know she could be number 1 in the only chart that counts...whatever the heck that is nowadays).

Anyway, I likes it, I likes it a lot, in particular 'Control' which is kind of all old skool electro, with smooth nuggets of male vocal and an infectiousness that would have a corpse up and poppin'.

And, on that note, I'm going for a lie down.

The Golden Age of Dolby...Thomas that is...

There's a list of artists I'd like to see live (some are dead so I'll have to work on that one), others almost might as well be. Thomas Dolby falls slap bang into that category. Until now. Yes...he's back, back, back etc. For the uninitiated Dolby was a fairly big name back in the 1980's, particularly for a tune called 'She Blinded Me With Science' featuring 'mad' scientist Magnus Pyke. Originally pretty synthy on his two first albums 'The Golden Age Of Wireless' and 'This Flat Earth', he then went all kind of big band jazzy on the frankly bonkers 'Aliens Ate My Buick', before going a bit more mainstream singer/songwriter on his last 78...well it seems like a bloody long time ago to me...Astronauts and Heretics. Since then (aside from a very limited release EP and some computer game soundtrack) he's been as quiet as a deceased church mouse. He's played a few very low key dates in the US and one or two in the UK but now he's going on tour over here for the first time in centuries. So, what's the big deal? Well, aside from being a bit of a pioneer of all kinds of electronic instruments, Mr D had a way with lyrics too. Whilst the likes of Duran Duran were coming over all 'Rio' (dirty boys), Dolby was writing much darker stuff like 'Airwaves' and 'One of Our Submarines' as well as downright pop funk gold in the form of Hyperactive. After seemingly giving up on music back in the early 1990's when he formed a company that did all kinds of clever stuff to do with 'compressing files', the fact that he's now decided to dust off his synth collection (when he clearly doesn't need the dosh) is pretty darn amazing. He's playing Brum in October at the Academy 2 by the way, along with a few other select dates. If you fancy seeing him before 2082 (which is probably when he'll tour again...as a hologram...cool) grab yourself a ticket...and a pair of round spectacles (and no that isn't a reference to Harry fucking Potter).

Prince or Pandora?

Just in case anyone reading this hasn’t already heard, here’s the deal. Prince – legendary musical genius and all round sexy motherfucker – has decided to take his ongoing fight with the record biz one step further and give away his new album…with The Mail on Sunday. WTF? I’m no expert on the demographics of The Mail on Sunday readers but, and here’s a wild stab in the dark, I’m reckoning that they’re not generally fans of the purple one…nor are they likely to be particularly liberally minded when it comes to ‘new music’. But that’s by the by (as opposed to buy the buy…’cos he’s giving it away…oh come on, this is gold dust). The point I’m struggling to make is that the music ‘business’ (in its traditional sense) has just taken one more step …okay it’s been frogmarched then… towards extinction. Earlier this year Music Zone, a cut price music and DVD retailer, went bust. Some of their stores were taken over by Fopp Records…another cut price music and DVD retailer. Guess what…they’ve just gone bust too. Sanctuary Music (the biggest independent label still around) is about to be sold for a fraction of its value, music industry execs are leaping form tall buildings (okay, not yet…but give it time) and even HMV is looking decidedly shaky.

Are they all about to permanently deleted? Well, if Alan McGee (Creation Records boss) has his way it’s a distinct possibility. He’s decided to start giving away the music of the bands that he manages and thinks that trying to sell it nowadays is simply a waste of time and money. Instead he predicts that bands will make their dosh through tours and merchandising. Hmmm…it’s a nice thought. So we don’t need record labels now do we? Do we? Certainly a lot of the stuff that the bigger labels churn out is a whole heap of shite. The growing number of smaller ‘indie’ labels on the other hand seem to be doing a pretty great job. But are they making any money? Are the bands making any money? Are we in danger of getting to a stage where most musicians have to get a ‘proper’ job? What happens when the live music scene goes cold again? We’re living in a pretty prosperous age at the moment but, and if there’s one thing I learnt from my Economics A level (I think there was just the one thing…) the economy is a cyclical old bugger and could well turn around and bite us all on the ass pretty soon. The thing that troubles me is that a growing number of people (me included if I’m really honest) see music like water. They turn on a tap and out it flows, a never ending supply of tunes. Like it or not, that (on some kind of level) devalues the music.

Whilst I don’t want to see big corporations get fatter, surely if it weren’t for record company advances in the past, passionate A &R men (I’m sure they’re not all weasels) and never say die pluggers many of the greatest albums ever made might not have made it to the ears of the masses. Look at most of the really big tours now too. Reunion shows and greatest hits. Sure you still get loads of bands doing their thing, making music in their bedrooms and touring in the back of a van - and long may that continue - but I’m talking here about the next Arcade Fire’s, Super Furry Animals', Bjork’s…Prince’s even…fairly cool artists who break through to more of a mass market thanks to a combination of good music but also the marketing and PR might of a big record label. Spend a day online and you’ll probably find 100 bands you love but who’ll never get anywhere…bands who deserve to ‘break’ so that they get something for their hard work and the wider public realises that there’s more to music than the 20 Best Shopping Songs or Nick Knowles Sings the Hits of REO Speedwagon (if that guy ever releases an album it’s a cert for number one…he’s on every freakin’ TV show the BBC seems to make these days).

Of course a growing number of bands are leaving (or being forced to leave) record labels altogether and set up on their own. Again a great idea in principle - cut out the middle man and go straight to Mr and Mrs (and Ms…and Miss) Punter. But surely to make this work you have to approach it all in a fairly businesslike way…and since when has the act of creating great music (as opposed to commercially successful music) been about business? Will you get more and more bands doing just what the big labels have done and modifying their sound to fit in with what’s big? “Of course none of this is new” I hear you cry “you’re being naïve, music has always been a business really”. Maybe. But in the past most of the business end was managed by fat old men smoking cigars or cocky 20 year olds with flashy haircuts and sharp suits. Now it looks as though the business bit might have to be managed by the lead singer and drummer of the Shag Donkey (not literally, but you get the idea).

For the web savvy music fan, things don’t look too bad. After all we can gain access to all kinds of stuff for nowt. But, for the general public…the 99% of people who don’t spend hours hunched over a PC downloading and listening to stuff, I’d say the future looks as bland as a bread sandwich (that’s bread with a slice of bread in the middle, topped off with a slice of bread). The big corporations (step forward Google, Clear Channel, News International, Apple etc) will control pretty much everything. Mavericks will be starved out of existence (‘cos being a bit weird and all that ain’t really profitable) and we’ll be left with a nice little underground scene attended by a few ‘cool’ people and loads of enormodomes hosting reunion shows. Oh…it’s already happened hasn’t it?

Right. So what have we learnt? Bugger all. Just a series of questions really. I’d be intrigued to hear what up and coming bands make of it all though. Is it getting tougher to ‘do’ music full time? Are small labels making any money? The only thing I do know is that you can’t just keep giving music away and not expect some form of fallout. McGee predicts years of ‘anarchy’ (quite what he means by that is anyone’s guess)…place your bets.

PS: By the way the Prince album isn’t bad. A bit Prince by numbers, but then after nearly 30 years that’s kind of what you’d expect. If you’re quick you can still probably get one for £1.40 with a free copy of The Mail on Sunday…bonus…er…well maybe not.

PPS: Enough with the rain…seriously…cut it out…it’s getting on my tits.

Goodtime George

With my finger on the pulse on new music I just can't let the passing of Mr George Melly go uncelebrated. I was lucky enough to see him once, back in the days of Ronnie Scotts on Broad Street (Birmingham) before it became a 'lap dancing' club. It was during his John Chilton's Feetwarmers era, and he was a giant bear of a man. I remember that he had the ability to make almost every word drip with innuendo (the secret of any truly great jazz / blues singer) and relished playing songs that gave him as many chances as possible to raise his eyebrows in mock shock at the sheer filth of it all.

Anyway, from what little I know of him he seems to have had one of the fullest lives you could ever hope to lead - oodles of sex, drugs and rock n'roll (did you know he once recorded with The Stranglers? No, neither did I).

RIP George.

Tokyo Police Club / Destroy Cowboy / The Indigos Barfly Birmingham Wednesday 4th July 2007

A decent crowd for a slightly soggy Wednesday evening saw openers The Indigos put on a solid performance of post punkish (I bet you were wondering when I was going to slip in the old post punk reference into another review eh?) indie rock. They've got some decent tracks, engaging lyrics and frontman Jimmy has the kind of voice that really suits this kind of music (ie slightly narked at the state of the world...a feeling that I can totally relate to). Whilst I'd have liked a little more vocal interplay with Dan (backing vocals and lead guitar), they impressed me enough to want to catch them again when I get the chance.

Destroy Cowboy put on a similarly strong show. I've seen their name around quite a bit (there's a sticker of theirs just above the urinals in the Bar Academy...just above head height in you're interested...why would you be...unless there's some bizarre urinal sticker spotting club out there...maybe there is...sort of like the Panini of the urinal world...) but I'd never seen them until now. Another slight vocal quibble...I'd have liked the lead vocals a tad louder as sometimes the music overwhelmed the words a little. When they really found their 'groove' (on tracks like the The Prize) they've got the kind of anthemic power that could well see them fitting into bigger venues.

Headliners Tokyo Police Club have been generating a fair degree of press lately and, judging by the enthusiastic reception of a hard core legion of fans, it's starting to translate into a bit of a following. You can't help but notice a similarity with The Strokes, but they've got more more 'artrocker' vibe going on than Julian Copacobanacasablancooompalomablanca and co. I particularly liked the bit when various members of the band starting banging 7 flavours of shite out of the drums. I'm a big fan of the old instrument swapping/ritual abuse malarky. There was a lot of that playing your guitar down the neck so it sounds really high stuff going on too (I'm sure these notes have names but I have no idea what they are...I'll plump for C sharp 'cos it sounds convincing) and the kind of energetic performance that makes you wish you were 16 again (there was even a mini stage invasion by two brave souls who risked incurring the wrath of a security chappie who looked a little like Phil from Eastenders). Your English Is Good is a cracking track (it's on their My Space page) and, in its live incarnation, you can imagine it becoming a real 'sing along' set highlight. It even got me moving which, at my age, is some feat...

Rootsville Digbeth Saturday 30th June / Sunday 1st July 2007

Congratulations all round to the good folk behind Rootsville, who managed to put on a brilliantly ‘eclectic’ bill. Barring a few minor grumbles (the two hour ‘drift’ in set times being the most significant…I’m sure the weather didn’t help) it was pretty much as good as I’d hoped it could be. Arriving at midday and staying until just before 4…am…we packed in a fair number of bands/artists, so I won’t bore you all to death with a blow by blow account. First up though, and well worthy of a mention, were the Birmingham Community Gospel Choir (can't find a link...must be one somewhere...). Personally, religion is something I just don’t get. My bad I guess…especially when the big Grim R comes a knocking and tells me I’ve got a one way ticket to Brimstone Towers, but hey, at least I’m being honest. If there is someone up there he’s gotta respect honesty right? Having covered all bases, back to the music. Whilst I don’t get religion, I do get Gospel. Perhaps it’s the purest music there is? These people believe every word 100%. And it shows. The Birmingham Choir is blessed with some powerful, but well controlled voices, brilliantly arranged and backed with simple instrumentation. Beautiful, inspirational, powerful stuff. Even with my cold, hard agnostic heart, I just loved it.

Despite being beset by the technical hitches that became a bit of a feature throughout the day (like I say it was slashing it down, and the stage lay under a beautiful, but slightly leaky railway arch) Chrissy Van Dyke’s voice was as powerful as it was back in the days of Plutonik. Walking a more jazzy path these days she’s a local treasure and deserves muchos respect. The last track of her set, which got a bit funky on our ass, really showcased her at her very best. Ace. Catch her at the Hare and Hounds this Thursday to see what all the fuss is about.

Soweto Kinch was the next artist to grab me by the musical genitalia (ouch…but in a nice way…good grief, can you tell I haven’t had much sleep?). Jazz hop (although he’d probably hate that description…so if he ever reads this I’m sorry) behemoth, rising from the streets of B19, I’d seen his name but never heard his music. Lazy people might draw a link with Gil Scott Heron. So I will. Soweto links jazz with hip hop quite brilliantly though and, although I’m only starting to really grasp the subtleness of the language of jazz (hey, get me, next I’ll be wearing a beret and saying ‘niiiice’ like one of those annoying Fast Show Pub Bores – yes, you know who you are) you get a real feel for the streets though the music. The freestyle rap bit of the show (using words from the audience that included ‘octopus’, ‘octave’ and ‘ricochet’) was one of those, ‘how the hell does he think so quickly’ moments.

Where next? Ahhh yes. The Young Zulu Warriors. What the chuff? Seeing a stage under the railway arches of Digbeth invaded by a throng of Zulu warriors is a pretty surreal moment. Microphone free, they made an impressive sound, but it’s the visual side of things that makes such an impression. All the leaping around and high kicking made me feel quite exhausted and, when they left the stage, I wandered off in search of liquid refreshment. Returning a few minutes later I discovered they’d merely left the stage for a costume change and they came back on for another 45 minutes or so. Now that’s rock n’roll. Like I say, it was a head spinningly eclectic bill, so before you could recover your breath (over on the Medicine Bar stage) we caught The Dholblasters. Dhol drumming originated in the Punjab (there, who says Web 2.0 is just full of self obsessed nerds spouting shite that no one's interested in...it is...but, hey, it's informative too!), but seems to have a pretty strong following here in Birmingham (I think the Dhol Foundation has its roots here too). If you’ve not heard it in action, it’s a little like being caught under a tin roof during a particularly heavy hail storm…only a lot more musical of course. Awesome drumming, strong vocals, clean, crisp dancing and a treat for the eyes, ears and feet from start to finish.

Good grief. I’m getting knackered again just writing this. Bear in mind this all took place in one day, and it’s just the highlights…and you get some idea of what you missed if you weren’t there…anyway, onwards and upwards…or backwards. The Inspiral Carpets. Gawd love ‘em. Looking even more like a bunch of builders than they did back in the day, you forget just how many great tracks they wrote back. Watching This is How It Feels - and a number of other tracks for that matter - sung by a guy in his 40’s gives them a whole different meaning. Purists may sneer (go on, sneer, there, that made you feel better didn’t it?), but you can’t knock the tunes (click on the video thingy to the left of this review for some vids), the reaction of the crowd and the sheer pleasure that comes from trying to sing the bits that Mark E Smith sang in I Want You (I know there was something about the Dutch East India Company in there somewhere, but the rest…answers on a postcard please).

I love The Ripps. Nuff said. Spikey, punky, shouty, powerpop loveliness…in a treat sized package. Most of the audience invaded the stage during the first number (I stayed behind, reliving flashbacks of my Gallows incident), before being ‘invited’ off by security. Leave our pop kids alone ‘The Man’! By this time quite a few people were a little drunk. Time was dribbling its way towards 3am (when we had intended to depart), and there were still two bands that I wanted to see – Dandi Wind and The Presets. The ‘technical’ difficulties delayed Dandi Wind by a good 20 minutes or so…but I'm glad we hung around. Like the deranged lovechild of Lene Lovich and Martin from Selfish Cunt, Ms Wind careered all over the stage shrieking into her mic like that little girl from The Exorcist, baiting the audience, crowd surfing (dangerous given the state of the crowd and the fact that she just wore a pair of black panties, the remains of some tights and a top held together with pins). There are tunes in there somewhere though too. Jolly good they are too. There’s one that goes a bit like ‘bom bom a bom a dingle ram a dam a ding dong’ which I really liked. But then I’m a little odd.

The Wind finished (with Ms Wind climbing a good 15ft up the stage rigging and leaving the mic wrapped up in its steely fingers) and the clock struck 3.50am. The Presets kit was still being loaded onto the stage and we faced the choice of catching the last of the taxis (they always seem to melt away at around 4am) or the first of the buses. I was up for the former but Lady Baron (who needs a good 15 hours sleep a night) had lost the will to live. So, it was a case of gone with The Wind (I didn't just write that did I?). Given the fact that I have to work for a living and really shouldn’t fall asleep at my desk too often, it was probably a wise move. If anyone was there for The Presets, let me know what they were like.

NB: Misty’s were as great as ever, but you know that already don’t you? Oneyesblue, Voodoo Jones and Osibisa all deserve honourable mentions too, but I didn’t see all of their respective sets…

Glastonbury...some music stuff...and a few more reflections

S'funny really. I've spent the last week chatting to people about Glasto. "Will you go again?" they all asked. "Possibly not" I've replied. "Ahhhhh, that's 'cos you're getting old" they all say. Cobblers. It's got bugger all to do with that. A few things happened this year to cast a doubt over Glasto 2008. The weather was one of them (coming after years of mud, another one was just taking the piss really). But the weather I can cope with. Second was the increase in the number of people on site. It made the shuffling around just that bit slower and the crowds for the 'big acts' just that bit bigger. Who knows, will next year see the capacity rise to 200,000? Where will it all end? Will it take over the whole of Somerset one day? There was the mind melting array of acts and stages on offer too. We all like a bit of choice, but hell, it took three days to trawl through the programme. You can easily spend a few hours just spinning around in a mire of indecision (wearing hotpants...like Kylie...I'd look good in hotpants you know...I have the ass for it...). Finally, and this really hit me on the Sunday evening, if you do choose to go and see one of the 'big' acts (which I wouldn't normally go and see, but because they, and I, are there, I will do at Glasto) unless you get into position a good hour or so early, or try to shoehorn yourself into the crowd, you end up watching most of the action on a giant screen. Hmmmm. I could do that at home and spend my £200 on going to see bands 'in the flesh' instead. Anyway, for what it's worth, those are my thoughts on Glasto 2007 as an 'event'.

Time to talk about the music. Rather than bore you with a 10,000 word dissertation on The Hair of Amy Winehouse and the Decline of Western Civilisation I'll just briefly focus on a few highlights. Musically speaking (or listening) my best bits probably took place in the Leftfield Tent on Thursday night. They had CUD, Ned's Atomic Dustbin and Glen Tilbrook on (all of whom were ace). Best of all though was Kid Harpoon. His voice kind of sounds like a teenage boy who's just discovered bourbon and wild, wild women. There's real ooomph behind his live performance that perhaps doesn't come across on some of his recorded stuff. There's a strong folky / sea shanty kind of feel to the music that makes it all sound timeless, there are echoes of laughing Lenny Cohen on some tracks (indeed he covers Len's First We Take Manhattan...and makes it his own). He has this curious dancing thing too where he sort of recoils from his mic stand like it's about to lamp him one. Brilliant...and worth the price of the Glastonbury ticket on his own.

Friday kicked off with a Guilty Pleasures set (hosted by 'DJ' Sean Rowley). This was basically a house band fronted by a different vocalist for each track (all covers of golden oldies that some would consider 'guilty pleasures' ...clever eh?). The crowd was fairly thin, so we got right to the front to see The Magic Numbers, Tim Burgess, Les (from The Bay City Rollers) and Suggs (pictured above) amongst others. Great fun.

Another unexpected highlight was the lovely Lily Allen. In between swearing like a trooper and chatting about big cocks, she introduced Lynville Golding (ex The Specials) as her special guest. I love The Specials and pondered aloud how great ot would be to see Terry Hall up there too. Then, as if by magic, Lily, in a Jim'll Fix It stylee, introduced Mr Hall too for a blistering version of Gangsters (which you can see here!)

Finally (like I say, these are just the edited highlights) I was blessed to see !!! (the band...I've not gone to sleep and leant on the ! key...!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!...sorry, I did then). They're a lot 'camper' in real life than I was expecting but the music is pure 'art disco' (what do you mean there's no such genre). If you want to know what makes them so great just listen to Must Be The Moon...a tribute to the Who's late drummer...probably...(I spotted, well he was standing right next to me so it wasn't hard, politicomic god Mark Thomas jigging to the !!! vibe too - good taste fella).

Right, that's it. Gotta dash. Off to another festival. Rootsvile this time. They're promising shelter from the predicted 2-3 inches of rain that's predicted today. Gawd bless 'em. Eavis, are you listening?

Glastonbury...some muddy thoughts.

Well, I survived. Glastonbury number 10 well and truly under my belt. Weather wise it was probably the worst. Not as spectacular as Brown Friday (2005), but just as destructive. Aside from odd bursts of sunshine it petty much drizzled/pissed it down for four days. To some it's all part of the fun. I think it depends on how often you've experienced this kind of 'fun'. We got chatting to a real veteran (who'd been going since 1985) whilst sheltering from a particularly nasty downpour. He was pretty pissed off by the whole thing. In fact we concluded that the last really sunny Glasto was 1995. "Why doesn't Eavis move the bloody thing" he moaned. He has a point. Whatever your view of spending four days up to your knackers in mud may be, the plain fact is that it's far nicer sitting on the grass in the sun. Strangely Mr Eavis was quoted in the Glastonbury Daily (the onsite festival 'newspaper') as being sort of glad that it rained so that he could test out the new drainage. Hmmmmm...not really with you there Mr E. Don't get me wrong, I still have a real affection for Glastonbury. To me it's the best festival of its kind in the world. The organisation is mind blowing, many of the acts are amazing (often the ones on the smaller stages), you meet some great people...but why oh why can't we just have a dry one? Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaghhhh! I guess it all kind of came to a head when our tent finally gave way on Sunday and the water flooded in. Later we spent an hour plodding through the mud in the pouring rain to get to the coach station for 2am. Then we waited for an hour in the pouring rain to get on the coach. Then we spent nearly five hours sitting on the bloody coach in an atmosphere that can only be described as ripe cheese. So, forgive me. A more positive, music related review (yes...there was music too) will follow just as soon as I've got the trench foot out of the way. Peace.

Rootsville...and a bit of a rant...

I've not 'gigged' for two weeks now. A musical detox if you will (and I'm sure you will). To make up for it, as well as the festival who's name I promised not to mention again, I've just purchased tickets to something called Rootsville. I think it happened last year (on a much smaller scale) and sold out. This year they've pulled together a fairly eclectic, but pretty cool sounding, line up including The Inspiral Carpets (yes...THE Inspiral Carpets...I can do my patent 'baggy' dance last seen in The Gloucester - Brighton 1990 - all over again), Misty's (yay!), The Destroyers (yay!), The Presets (yay!...you get the idea), The Ripps, The Dholblasters and Chrissy Van Dyke (who I last saw in Plutonik...the most remarkable Drum n'bass band ever who deserved to be megastars...but weren't...booo hisss to the music biz). Early bird tickets are a bargaintastic £15 and are / were still available yesterday from my chums at Swordfish records. It seems that some of the festival is taking place under one of the many railway arches in Digbeth. Cool idea. One of the things I really enjoyed about the Great Escape Festival in Brighton was the variety of unusual venues by the seafront. We've got just as many great buildings here in Brum...at last some are finally being used. Hurrah! On a more worrying note Pete Ashton has commented that residents of some of Digbeth's swanky new apartments are a tad unhappy with music and stuff going on in 'their' neighbourhood and they're muttering about getting things shut down. As a regular of The Fiddle & Bone, a beautiful canal side pub and music venue in the heart of the city that was shut down by some of the...sorry...I'm going to swear here...wankers...who moved in to the apartments that overlooked it, this is worrying news. Now, I like my peace and quiet at home as much as the next bloke. That's why I live in 'leafy' Bearwood. The junkie crack whores keep the place lovely and quiet. If I chose to move in to, say, the NEC, I would expect a little noise now and then. And if, just as Birmingham is starting to develop a decent arts scene, it was shut down by people who choose to live slap bang in the middle of its beating heart then I will weap. Seriously. Right...where was I? Oh yes. Rootsville. Looks good. Just the kind of pan genre (nothing to do with real pans...although that would be kind of interesting...can pans be a genre? Discuss) musical event that the world needs more of. That's it. I'm unlikely to post again until after the festival who's name I'm not mentioning again...'cos I'm a workshy fop. So, until we meet again...ta ra bab (the bus driver said this to Lady Baron yesterday and it made me feel all warm inside...).

I can almost smell it...

...oh so close to Glasto now. I've spent many a happy hour reading the festival message boards and the 'blitz' spirit is well and truly in operation. The weather this week has been shite. Not as shite as the apocolyptic flash flood of 2005, but still pretty grim. Given this I've invested in a natty pair of waterproof golfing trousers (£5.99 from Sports World) and some brand new wellies from a shop called Giant Shoe Bargains (£4...a steal). There, now The Hearing Aid has turned in to a cut price fashion site. I am the new Trinny and Susannah...or maybe that Gok bloke who gets people to pose in the buff. Anyway, the point of all this (good grief...there's a point is there?) is that this is the last mention of Glasto...until I return. Promise. There. To make up for boring the tits off anybody who isn't going I've found a lovely picture of a young lady who's appearing in Trash City...a new 'nightime' Glastonbury venue that promises 'an intergalactic red-light district'. For once I am lost for words...

Bostin!

Long, long ago...in a galaxy far, far away...Stirchley in fact...I saw a band. An ace band. A bostin band. A band that made the kind of classic pop music that makes you just feel good. The band were Dodgy. I'd come to them through buying a white label single for 50p. I just liked the graphic on the sticker and, in those days, the only way to hear new music was to buy it or tape it off your mates. I thought it was going to be a dance track, but it was pure pop...in a good way. It turned out they were from Brum too. Result. Over the next year or so I saw them a couple of times at The Hibernian...then Dr Fame (I always figure fame would be a Dr...with mad hair and a lab coat...like a kind of madder version of Phil Spector...jeez what is that guy on?) came a calling and they played gradually bigger venues before finding their natural habitat on the Festival scene. Classic single followed classic single...then...just as they were really getting somewhere the lead singer, Nigel, quit. Bugger. At the time he said he wanted to go off and do stuff with samplers. The other two members of Dodgy, Matt and Andy, seemed genuinely gutted...and a bit confused. They kept the name and formed a new version of the band...not bad...but the lead singer had more of a bluesy, rock voice...totally unsuited to the sweet harmony kind of stuff that the band were famous for. Nigel followed his sampler route...hmmmm. I saw both factions at the time..and I've seen Nigel quite a few times over the last 9 years...each time asking myself 'when the hell are they going to reform?' His debut solo album released earlier this year, 21st Century Man, made me ask the question once again, because he's gone back to what he does really well. Listening to the album it's pure Dodgy. Clearly the original three members of the band have reached the same conclusion and...to cut a very long story short...they're back...BACK...BACK!

Having lost a couple of great bands in the last few weeks (Larrikin Love and Ladyfuzz) it's nice to have one back again. If you're 30 something you'll know (and possibly love) tracks like Staying Out For The Summer, Lovebirds, In a Room, Good Enough...if you're not...well they're well worth a listen. There's an intriguing rumour that they might be playing Glastonbury too...

Glastonbury...the countdown begins.

Well, just over a week to go. Whatever you think about Glastonbury (overhyped sell out or the greatest music festival in the world?) one thing's for certain...it's gonna rain. The only year that I've been when it didn't rain was, strangely, my first year. It was as hot as hell, we were totally unprepared and had very little money. Hayfever kicked in, which, combined with chronic sunstroke and a mild case of dehydration, made the whole experience a bit of an ordeal. Over the last 8 Glasto's we've kind of honed our craft, although this year we've been thrown a bit of a curveball by being forced to travel by coach (these were the only tickets available). We set off from Brum at 4.30 pm on Wednesday...and arrive some time after that. We depart at 3.00 am on Monday morning. At first I thought this was a typo. Surely they meant 8.00am or 13.00 hours...or even 3.00pm? But no. It's 3.00am. On the plus side this should get up home by 7.00ish so we can delouse ourselves, flop in front of daytime telly and try to recover what's left of our braincells. On the minus side this means trying to take down our tent and find the coach after 6 gallons of scrumpy and some 'erb (sage obviously). Should be fun. Talking of which, Mr Eavis has outdone himself this year and put on even more stages than ever. This will make the 'what do we see now?' game even more amusing. There's always a great moment when you sit down with your handy timetable amd optimistically plan your days knowing full well that, once the skies open and the entire site turns into a curious mix of mud, cow shit and human waste (of all varieties) trying to get from A to B will become pretty impossible. There are plenty of other great moments too...like the first visit to the toilets...although they are a lot better than 'back in the day'. At our first Glasto the 'deposits' in some of the loos rose above the seats like that mountain in Close Encounters. You had to kind of wedge yourself above the steaming mass in order to do 'your business' and hope you didn't slip. Now they're much cleaner...well, a bit. What else do I look forward too? Ahhhh the Cider Bus. That's normally my first stop. Grab a pint of trad. scrumpy, sit on the grass and have a chat to some bloke called Dave who's come from Milton Keynes. Heaven (not Dave, the Cider). The Hare Krishna free food tent is a pretty cool too. That's 'free' and 'food'...two of my favourite words. Although this will be our tenth Glasto I always leave feeling that I've not 'done it right'. You hear tales of people who've been up for 96 hours (sadly I need some sleep godammit) partying with the Scissor Sisters and 'that bloke from Big Brother'...or 'happenings' that you've missed where 15 student nurses got naked and handed out bags of drugs that they'd nicked from A & E. Whether any of this is true or not I'll never know...then again...maybe this could be the year to find out?

Hurrah! Devotchka is coming!

I don't normally make a big song and dance about bands and tour dates because lots of other people do it so well...but I'm making an exception this time. Regular readers will recall me wittering on about Devotchka when they supported Dresden Dolls last year. Down to earth as ever I urged people to quit their jobs and follow them around the world...'cos they were that good. At least 16 people lost their homes, careers and sanity as a result. If you've ever watched Little Miss Sunshine (a truly great little film) you will also know them as they provided most of the music for it. Anyway they are great. And they're coming back to England. In August. For just 3 dates. AND ONE OF THEM IS IN BIRMINGHAM! Oh joy.

August 2007

20th London 93 Feet East (is that a map reference?)

21st Birmingham Bar Academy (hmmm sound issues ahoy)

22nd Manchester Academy 3 (Manchester gets 3 Academys...lucky old Manchester...still not the second city though...so yah boo and sucks to you).

Oh, I've still not said what they're like yet have I? Hmmm, well the recordings don't really do them justice...they're kind of Eastern European, a bit gypsy...a bit jazzy...there are horns...guitars...ballads and whistling...quite a bit of whistling...go and have a listen for yourself. Maybe I was gripped by some kind of emotional 'thing' at the time but it was one of the best gigs I've ever seen (and I've seen one or two). There. Promotional rant over. I expect a free Devotchka T-shirt in the post in the morning.

Seasick Steve / Duke Garwood MAC Birmingham Saturday June 2nd 2007

Outdoor gigs. Great idea in principle...seldom much cop in dear old blighty. But last night...well thank the Lord...the sun shone...the clouds pissed off and, for once, the only blues I felt were musical (as opposed to that tingling sensation you get just before frostbite sets in...Glastonbury here we come!).

Opener Duke Garwood was clearly a step too far for a lot of the audience. Psych Blues that sort of drifted into the air like smoke from a campfire as if it wasn't quite sure where it should go. He's got a way of playing that's a little like tuning up and soundchecking...which isn't to say that I didn't enjoy it (I did), but the venue was probably a little big and the audience a little too mixed to work out right (once people start nattering it tends to spoil the 'vibe').

On to the main event. I almost hesitate to review Seasick Steve at all. It doesn't seem right to put a man who clearly belongs to a pre computer era on the net in any way, shape or form. Maybe I should write the review on a piece of old wood and nail it to an oak tree somewhere...or maybe I should just get on with it? Okay. The blues can, in this modern era, seem pretty remote and difficult to identify with. Not so with Seasick. He's there. He's a real as you can get. And he's got a song about his dead dog. How blues can you get? It's not just the songs that made tonight such a great gig though, it's the little stories too. Like Julian Cope a few weeks ago, each track was put into context. We knew what it was about, why it was written, how it fitted in to his life. You got to feel like a friend, not just a member of the audience. Extraordinary. He just looks the part too. Long grey beard, fading tattoos, dungarees, baseball cap, battered guitar, wooden box to stamp his foot on...every inch the hobo tramp that he was and still is...although now he gets a lot more than just loose change for his performancs. It was the end of the set that really got me though. Although I'd been told about his customary shaking the hands of the audience at the end, I didn't really expect him to go climbing over seats and shuffling through row upon row of people. But he did. Until he'd shaken the hand of each and every person still there. Then he sat and signed stuff. The fact that this guy had a major heart attack a few years ago makes this all the more remarkable. Too soon to call him a living legend? Probably. After all the first time most of us saw him was on Jools Holland's last New Year Hootanannyididdleeydo. I'm sure there are other Seasick's out there who also deserve their time in the sun too. Although whether they would have the presence, dignity and respect for their audience as this one is another matter altogether. But, whatever you want to call him, if you get the chance to see Steve, take it. The blues have never been so dang hot.

Mr Derry / The Gravity Crisis / Untitled Musical Project / Zebedy Rays Flapper Friday 1st June 2007

Gigs that I go to at the Flapper eh...like buses etc etc...after not going to the place for about 3 years I've been there twice in about three weeks. Maybe I'm trying to recreate my mispent youth? Anyway, speaking of youth, the drummer for Zebedy Rays looks mighty young. Dwarfed by his kit in fact. This didn't stop him playing a blinder though. If there was a prize for enrgy tonight the Rays would've walked it. Lead ray Ad, started off in the crowd, beating a drum like his life depended on it, the rest of the band on stage also drummed like men possessed. It was all a bit mariachi to begin with in fact. Musically they settled in to a sort of new wave blues vibe (now there's a genre waiting to be discovede by NME). Only a year old they're an intriguing proposition and well worth checking out live.

Untitled Musical Project, a band that I'd be promising myself I'd see for months, were as much of a slap up the chops as I was expecting. They're the kind of band for whom the word 'cult' was invented. I could almost see myself watching them in 20 years time (obviously I'll be in a wooden box by then, but hopefully Lady Baron will wheel me around to check out the latest sounds...). Uneasy listening for sure, metally (yes, metally) riffs, pounding drums and lots of screaming...and feedback...and blood. Yes, blood. Kieren sliced his finger open on the first track (not literally on the track...although how cool would that be...music that made your fingers bleed?), but manfully played on smearing the red stuff all over his guitar as the set wore on. Beastie Boys. Sabotage. Yes...Untitled Musical Project remind me of the Beastie Boys track Sabotage. Hmmm...maybe just me on that one. Anyway, as a fan of music that rearranges your internal organs like a Hotpoint on full spin, I rather liked UMP. It'll be interesting seeing them in a larger venue at some point...I get the feeling they'd be even better with a bit more room to breathe...and scream...and bleed.

Next up, The Gravity Crisis. Buzzcocks-y vocals with a hard, fast and dirty...oh so dirty...musical heart. The kind of band that make you want to buy a motorbike and drive across America drinking Jack Daniels and snorting Ajax (it cleans the sinuses a treat so I'm told). Ace.

Finally, Mr Derry. They got better and better as the set rolled on. And they were chuffing great to start with. Chunks of country, blues, rock and indie popped into a blender, switched to full on and transformed into a fine musical smoothie. So, four bands, £3 (with a flyer) and yet another brilliantly entertaining night of local music.

It's pretty clear that (as the mainstream press keep pointing out) we're living in a golden era for live music that's partly being fuelled by the wonders of My Space (where every band can do their own marketing, build a loyal fanbase and promote their gigs for nowt). It's just a shame that the charts (what's left of them) are generally full of complete and utter shite, the 'majors' (again, what's left of them) can't afford to sign anyone who makes music that can't translate into a ringtone and the whole music business is going to drown in a sea of forth rate dance acts, novelty records and talent show rejects. That's when it's going to get really interesting...

Personally I'm still in favour of the flat monthly fee, dowload everything you want model. Perhaps bands could charge a bit more for tickets too...just as long as the Government / ebay / the rest of us take out the online touts with a machete.