Finding Calcutta / Reverie (Strings) / Le Retrouvailles / Little Palm (aka Anna Palmer) The Rainbow, Digbeth Friday October 5th 2007

If it's Friday it must be Kamikaze!...I sort of feel like everyone should scream Kamikaze! (a bit like they used to do on Crackerjack) every time I type that word. Let's give it a try eh? Kamikaze!!!!!!! Hmmmm, spoilsports. Anyway. The music. Tonight was a slightly more chilled affair than previous Kamikaze's!, but it was the perfect showcase for four rather fine bands - a couple of which I was already aware of, two of which were all new, new new! Speaking of which, Anna Palmer (also known as Little Palm...or vice versa) was up first and, despite nursing the remains of a cold, put on a charmer of a performance. Backed by Jordan on drums for a few songs, but mainly just solo on keyboards, she's got a great voice (think a better version of Kate Nash), strong songs and an engaging personality (plus oodles of loyal mates, who clearly think she's as good as I do). Whether she carries on as a solo performer or forms a band (which she seems to be considering) I'm really looking forward to seeing how she develops as a singer and songwriter.

Hot on her heels were Le Retrouvailles (which isn't as easy to spell as you think). Lead Retrouvailles (Gemma...who also designs the rather fab Kamikaze! posters) has a gorgeous, rich, slightly bluesy voice that, at times, reminded me of a female Jeff Buckley. Like Anna, in fact like all the bands tonight, they've got some seriously good self penned songs, the highlight of which, Hush, has naggingly been going round in my head for some weeks now.

Next, and a band I've raved about before, were Reverie...no Reverie Strings...hmmmm...no just Reverie. It seems like they've not quite settled on that yet...no matter, they are, in my humble opinion, one of the strongest Midlands bands around at the moment. There's something about Ian's voice and songs (earthy and real) with the strings (classy and elegant) that just works. I'd love to see them in the Symphony Hall with a full orchestra, or maybe even the Town Hall. I can hear it now...a small choir in the background, a huge string section...a bit of brass...those big drums...anyway, they were (and are) ace. Music to live, love and die by. This was the best performance of theirs so far and if they get any better I'm going to have to sell my house and sign them to my imaginary record label. So there.

Finally, Finding Calcutta...SEVEN...SEVEN...SEVEN...SEVEN...not quite sure what came over me there...(you had to be there). Finding Calcutta have a kind of Prog Folk thing going on. As I like both Folk and Prog, this was all rather good news. The more they played the better it got and the more I got into it...which is the thing with both Prog and Folk. Bags of energy, some rather good finger picking and a bass player who did that cool one handed thing that bass players sometimes do. They've got a new EP out too (which is probably available through their My Space thingy).

So there we go - pianos, folk, prog, strings, blues, mandolins and all manner of lovely stuff. These nights are a great showcase for just some of the talent we have in our city and, judging by the impressive audiences, the word is finally starting to spread.

The Puppini Sisters / Patti Plinko and her boy Tuesday 2nd October 2007 Glee Club Birmingham

Two gigs, two nights...yes it's GDFTD (Going Deaf for Two Days for the hard of thinking amongst you). Well, when you're 104 like I am, heaving your festering carcass out of the house is a big deal. Damn glad I did though. Cos I'm in love. Yes. L-O-V-E. LOVE. Lady Baron won't mind. The object of my affections? Patti Plinko...and her boy. Damn...she has a boy. Balls. Still, I will steal her heart by plying her with cakes and stuff in the shape of her weapon of choice...the ukelele (try spelling that after a glass of champers). Imagine Marilyn Monroe, Regina Spector, Bessie Smith, Jacques Brel, the French Resistance, a glass of absinthe and George Formby all whisked up in a blender. That's what Patti Plinko sounds like. Just incredible. Seriously. Go listen. Now. See? Awesome. The fact that her 'boy' wore a gas mask throughout (reminding me of that Dr Who episode...'are you my mummy?'...spooky) and her songs were full of dead husbands, electric chairs and all kinds of weird stuff made me love it...and her...even more. I may give my musical heart away like a rent boy in Soho, but my love for Patti will remain until we're united in an air raid shelter of our own. (NB: if Patti ever reads this I'm not really a stalker...this is just for the review...you are brilliant though). Riiiight. The Puppini Sisters. They do 1940's style covers of modern classics. Sounds a bit uncool. It ain't. It's so cool. They look so cool. They harmonise better than angel triplets (that's three angels with the same mum...do angels have mums? If not where do they come from?) and were a lot more amusing and even better in real life than I was expecting. The arrangements of the covers is spot on. Just listen to (a snatch of) Crazy In Love. (Beyonce? Pish). Then check out (a snatch of) Walk Like An Egyptian (yes, that one). Monumental. And a bit mental too. I was born in the wrong time. I've always suspected that. If you could just erase WW2 I'd fly back to the 1940's in a flash. Tonight the Glee Club lived up to it's name.

Stars / Lily Fraser Monday 1st October 2007 Barfly Birmingham

What better way to start the working week eh? Yes, I do work. I don't just sit here crafting these words day in day out. You couldn't tell could you? Opener Lily Fraser, stripped back to just a guitarist and the lovely Lily herself (they normally have all sorts of other folk playing with them) has one of those distinctive voices that, at times, recalls a bit of Bjork, a touch of Beth (Gibbons of Portishead fame) and little Kate (Bush...of Bush fame)...but different to all three. Ranging from gentle tracks like Too Scared to Miss to rock out ball busters like Alive she was an absolute treat from start to finish and seemed to win over pretty much the whole crowd. No mean feat on a Monday evening. As this was just a double bill tonight Stars had a good hour and a half to play with and, by jupiter (that's a planet isn't it...not a star...hmm), they played a stellar set (what, you expect me not to put lots of star puns in here...it's my blog...). Watching them I kept thinking of Deacon Blue...which isn't a bad thing. The Blue had a fine line in dramatic pop with a slightly dark edge (listen to Dignity...it's a heartbreaker) and Stars have that same feel. I've seldom seen such a genuine band. They really, really seemed pleased that we'd all turned up. With tracks as great as The Night Starts Here and Ageless Beauty (both of which are even better live than in recorded form) I was bloody pleased that they turned up too. Just a beautiful, beautiful night of music.


PS: If you're quick you can listen to the whole of their new album In Our Bedroom After The War at their My Space thingy page stuff.

Going Deaf For a Fortnight if you think you're hard enough...

Some months ago I foolishly invoked the name of Going Deaf for a Fortnight when I went to four gigs in a row. GDFAF is, for the uninitiated, a 14 day period of time during which you try to go to as many gigs as you can, then post a decent review on your blog (ideally within 24hours). It was invented by blogtopus Pete Ashton in 2005, who you can find here, here, here and er...here...and quite possibly here...(okay that's only 5 blogs not 8, but blogtopus sounds kind of neat). Anyway, my invocation was quite rightly picked up by Russ L, who, sensible chap that he no doubt is, can just be found here. After assuming Pete's mantle in 2006 he challenged me to go deaf for a fortnight this year and I made some lame ass excuse that 'i'd think about it'. I have... and will probably merely go deaf for a few days here and there (which ain't really the idea). The point of all this? Well, as GDFAF starts soon (6th October) I just wanted to wish all those involved the very best. I think Pete is doing it (?), I know Russ L is and I sincerely hope there's more out there. Even if you, like me, just make it out to a few more gigs than normal, then it's a bloody good thing. Here, for anyone considering it, are a few tips for the fortnight in question...

Saturday 6th - Oxjam Event (including The Gravity Crisis / Untitled Musical Project / The Bourgois Four / Swampmeat) @ The Sunflower Lounge, Birmingham

Sunday 7th - Heavy Trash @ The Hare & Hounds, Kings Heath

Monday 8th - Thomas Dolby @ Academy 2, Birmingham

Tuesday 9th - Foals @ The Barfly, Digbeth

Friday 12th - Kamikaze! @ The Rainbow, Digbeth (4 local bands, £4...including The Others...yes...The Others!)

Tuesday 16th - The Rumble Strips @ Academy 2, Birmingham

Wednesday 17th - Palladium (hey, it's pop...I like pop) @ Bar Academy, Birmingham

Wednesday 17th - oooh a clash...Unsane / Beestung Lips @ The Medicine Bar, Digbeth...not fair Beestung lips win hands down on their own...'cos they're ace.

Friday 19th - Kamikaze! @ The Rainbow, Digbeth (4 local bands...once again £4)

Peeping at the NME

Well, it's that time again. The annual NME student guide (yes I know I keep slagging it off and yes I know it's £2.10 a week, but I've kind of got into the habit over the last 20 odd years). It's always interesting to see what people rate as being the best - musically speaking - that the city can offer and this year is a pretty fair reflection, helped no end by Mazzy's (Chicks Dig Jerks) piece. Venue wise we have the Sunflower Lounge, Academy (hmmm...Academy 2 and Bar Academy may be...but not the great hole in the ground itself), Factory Club (which is the new name for the Medicine Bar!?) and The Rainbow. No mention of The Barfly or Flapper...both of which should be student heaven. Misty's get a mention in the Pick Of The Local Bands bit along with Shady Bard, Murdoch and the Big Bang. No Beestung Lips! Criminal. Mazzy adds Johnny Foreigner to the list (good choice). Obviously I'm a bit gutted that Hot Spunk didn't make it, but there you go. You can't have everything. The number one thing to do in your first year here? See Stine Richard. He's a new name to me but it seems as though he's Birmingham's answer to Jacko. A student at Birmingham Uni he's just released a tune entitled Rock With You together with its very own (slightly strange) video. He is, according to the NME guide, a "musical genius and comedy legend". He doesn't seem to play many gigs at the moment though. Promoters...over to you.

Dexys Midnight Rumbles

Well. It's out at last. The Rumble Strips album finally oozed into the shops last week. Having first seen the band early last year it seems pretty incredible that it's taken so long to get released, particularly given that many of the songs on it seem to have been around for a while. I guess there's been all kinds of label bullshit to get through. Shame. For what it's worth I think the band would've had far more chance of 'making it' if the album had been released last year. Still, here's hoping that the great British public pick up on a great band and album that gives more than a nodding wink to the classic Searching For The Young Soul Rebels era Dexys. I've not purchased it yet, mainly 'cos I've got some of the tracks from single releases, covermounted freebie CD's...etc. It's retailing at a none unreasonable £8.00 in HMV, not unreasonable by the standards of 1999 that is. It's hard to imagine too many folk forking out £8.00 for a CD these days. Richard Branson obviously feels the same way as he's just sold his remaining Virgin music stores to 'der management' who are changing the name to Zavvi. That'll help eh? Just slap a new name on the front of the shops and the public will forget all about downloading stuff. With Fopp, Music Zone and MVC all dead and buried...and Zavvi destined to follow (sorry fellas), HMV will soon be the only national music retailer left (and that's losing money faster than Northern Rock can give it away...125% mortgages anyone...not got a job...no probs...so you're a convicted armed robber with a crack habit...no worries...step right in...the tax payer's got it covered...). Sad.

Anyway, I digress. The Rumble Strips. Great band. Go listen and, thanks to the miracle of You Tube, go watch via the video thingy at the left of this gibberish.

Blood Red Shoes / The Ghost Of A Thousand Birmingham Bar Academy Wednesday 19th September 2007

In a break with gig going tradition, and after the shockingly bad pints of Grolsch (which tasted like someone had jizzed in it) and Blackthorn (which someone had jizzed in) on Tuesday night (oh what the hell...who needs a liver?) I decided to demolish the small bottles of 'red' wine that the Bar Academy has had sitting there gathering dust for months. £2.90 each they may be, but at least they don't taste of jizz...

This has bugger all to do with the music but it does once again raise the question of why some venues find it so bloody hard to serve fairly priced beverages that don't taste of jizz. There. That's got that off my chest, now if only I could find a way to get the taste out of my mouth. One taste I don't need to get out of my mouth (seamless eh? chuffing seamless) is that of hardcore Brightonians The Ghost of a Thousand. I'm fairly sure that most of the assembled teens waiting for Blood Red Shoes weren't expecting a fist full of Gallows up their rectums, but that's pretty much what they got (minus the actual fists up actual rectums). As I've written before, and quite how it's happened, I find myself liking hardcore punk more and more. Perhaps 'cos I'm changing from a slightly angry young man to a totally pissed off old bastard. But there's something about pounding drums, driving guitars and some bloke screaming out his vital organs that just makes me feel good. TGOAT, whilst less scary than Gallows, still get the old blood pumping and lead singer Tom spilt more sweat than a fat man crossing the road in Vegas (and that's a lot of sweat).

Headliners Blood Red Shoes are destined for great things. Ignore the lazy 'reverse White Stripes' comments, BRS are more rrrrrrriot girl meets cute boy next door...they fall in love, spend nights eating chips on Brighton Pier and drinking luke warm Asti Spumanti in the rain whilst plotting their first big stadium show. Or something like that. They're a ball swellingly cute couple. Something for the boys (and boy, were there a few of them there at the front professing undying love for lead shoe Laura) and girls (in the form of the slightly angelic looking Steven). Yes I know looks shouldn't matter, but in this fickle world of 'pop' it still does. It helps no end that the music - a large gob of punk, a dash of indie and a hint of rock - is ace too. It's Getting Boring By The Sea (complete with Guns N' Roses style guitar noise that kicks off Paradise City and naggingly catchy upwards inflection at the end of every line of every verse) must be up there as a possible Hearing Aid Single of the Year (I keep inventing these awards, have you noticed?). Judging by the sizeable crowd, the furious moshing and a stash of instantly memorable tunes these Shoes (I'll warn you now...this is going to hurt) are set to run and run (told you...sometimes I just can't help ending reviews with piss poor Metro News / NME style endings...think of it as some form of ironic comment on the state of the mainstream media...or just me being an annoying tosser).

PTV3 Birmingham Academy 2 Tuesday 18th September 2007

You missed a treat Birmingham. Artist, inventor of industrial music, founder member of Throbbing Gristle, key player in the birth of of Acid House and general legend Mr Genesis P-Orridge and his new-ish line up of Psychic TV played to no more than about 40 people in what was, admittedly, a criminally underpromoted gig (the tickets only seemed to come on sale three weeks ago with no publicity whatsoever). It's late, I'm still kind of on Vegas time and I'm liable to ramble (never a good thing on a 'school' night) suffice to say that the whole experience was like watching a strange but hauntingly brilliant work of art come to life and mess with your mind, body and soul. Genius...sheer genius.

Postcard from the veg..

Jet lag is great really. Kind of like being on drugs but without the needles, death and stuff. I'm still drifting slightly between this world and the next. As the kind of chap that needs a good 8 hours of sleep, going for 30 hours or so (I can't really work it out yet) without any shuteye has a pretty profound impat...make that impact...see what I mean...on my ability to string a sentance together. Anyway, I won't bore you with a long rambling account of 'wot I did on my holidays', suffice to say that I can heartily recommend both San Francisco and Las Vegas to anyone with a pulse. San Francisco has a really cool vibe although, as I feared, Haight Ashbury just didn't feel right to me especially after being accosted by dozens of pan handlers who got pretty abusive when I failed to give them money. The scary bum in Golden gate park who kept shouting at me to 'suck his cock' didn't help. Other than that (of course you get 'bums' everywhere) the people were really friendly, there are great bars everywhere (especially in the Italian quarter) and there's a ton of stuff to do. We barely scratched the surface in 5 days. One of the many highlights was a gig at Slims featuring oddball actor Billy Bob Thornton who performed a set of 'hillbilly' music wearing an Austin Powers style outfit in the first half (see picture below) then came back on in a black vest and jeans for his country stuff. It was all rather bizarre, but enjoyable at the same time. Like watching a kitten perform brain surgery (see, that's jet lag for you).

Vegas has to be the best and worst place on earth. It really is as mental as it looks. Perhaps the strangest of all was the Freemont Street Experience. Situated 'downtown' (the arse end of 'new' Vegas in many ways) it's a kind of a graveyard for all of the old neon signs that we associate with the days of Frank and co. Basically most of the old casino's were demolished years ago, they saved the neon signs though and have stuck them all over a mall in Freemont street. Above this mall is a giant screen thingy that carries a music and light show during the evening (see the pretty picture above). Freemont Street is full of people on those electric buggies whose legs have given way under the weight of several stone of blubber (I saw a whole family reduced to this state) plus hundreds of irritating tourists like me who insist on photographing every sign from every angle. Uptown Vegas is a homage to wealth, excess and sheer stupidity. It's glorious. I discovered a great scam too. Being as tight as a duck's ass it pleased me no end. If you settle down in front of a 1cent a go slot machine a lovely waitress brings you any drink you want...for free. With a bit of luck you can make $1 (50p in real money) last you 10 minutes or so, sometimes enough for two freebies. Now that's my kind of gambling. The house loses. Ha! Probably the best bit of all though was Love, the hottest Cirque Du Soleil show of the moment at The Mirage. Setting an acrobatic show to the music of The Beatles could go either way, unbearably naff or incredibly brilliant. The fact that it hit the latter of these two options may have been down to the pint of cocktails that we were drinking at the time, but even in the cold light of day I'm pretty sure that the show was mind blowingly good. There are bodies flying all over the shop, really clever uses of sound and video clips of the fab four in action and speakers in every seat for that full 'surround sound' experience. Words would never do it justice, but ultimately it reminds you of just how good and unique the music of the Beatles was and still is (for the record I'm not a Beatles nut either). So, that's that. Back to life, back to reality as Jazzie B once so wisely put it. Perhaps not so wisely I've lined up three gigs this week beginning with PTV3 (after waiting 20 years or so to see Mr P-Orridge I get to see him twice in a less than 12 months...oh deep joy!). Hopefully Morpheus can do his bit tonight (he's something to do with sleep I think) and all will be well in my brain by then. On second thoughts watching PTV3 in a altered state might be quite good fun...

Back...back...back!

Er...I'm back. San Francisco and Vegas were great. I am knackered. 18hours in a plane and several time zones will do that I guess. Only caught one gig in the end (Billy Bob Thornton - yes, that Billy Bob Thornton) , plus Love in Vegas (the Cirque doodah thing)...will write more when sleep I have had....in the meantime here's a picture of Billy Bob.

Crap.

That's it. I'm off. Holiday time at last. Hoping to catch a few gigs in San Fran and Vegas in between eating my own bodyweight in dead cattle and crustaceans, downing liquor and squandering at least $5 on the 'craps' tables. I can honestly say I have no idea what a 'craps' table is and don't really want to know until I get there. Then I will stride up purposefully with as much bluster as I can summon up and ask for $5 worth of crap that I will gamble on more 'crap'. And I will win. And I will build a house of 'crap', with 'crap' furniture and a 'crap' pool. I will drive a 'crap' car, get a 'crap' dog and dress from head to foot in 'crap'. In fact...I will become the king of 'crap'. Hmmm...no change there then.

See you on the other side.

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…