Moseley Folk Festival Day Three – Sunday 6th September 2009

Wizz Jones

Day Three and we arrived just in time to catch Wizz Jones. A new name to me I’m ashamed to admit but someone’s who’s been a bit of a legend amongst musicians for the odd 50 years or so. I was chatting to a nice chap from Acoustic Guitar magazine who was there to take some shots of Wizz and he put him right up there with the likes of Bert Jansch. I can see why. There are some guitar players who make it just look so natural and Wizz is one of them. Employing a bluesy picking style his fingers were as every bit as fast as Pritam’s on Day Two, although I’m guessing Wizz is just a year or two older. He did one track about a bloke who raced pigeons (basically all his mates said his pigeon would die ‘cos the race was from Italy and there was a big storm which killed most of the other birds, but his bird made it…kind of the pigeon version of Rocky) which I found strangely moving. It was nice to catch up with Jim Moray again after not seeing him live for a few years. He’s doing a lot to keep folk moving in the right direction, often using (close your eyes here trad folkies) computers and stuff to make his music. Today was a much more traditional set though, mainly Jim and his guitar…although he did manage to work in some nice feedback looping at the end of his set which woke up more than a few members of the audience who were enjoying that Sunday stupor.

Ade 'Bad Shepherd' Edmondson

If Jim woke them up, The Bad Shepherds got them dancing, or pogoing at least. The brainchild of Ade Edmondson (in his words ‘the twat off the telly’) they basically take such punk and new wave classics as 'London Calling' and 'Once In a Lifetime' and do them in a folky style. It sounds awful but it somehow works brilliantly. Ade keeps the level between comedy and respect for the music just right, neatly avoiding falling into a Barron Knights style of parody that would quickly become oh so tiresome. I thoroughly enjoyed trying to guess the intro’s even though I failed miserably on most counts and am now cursing myself for not getting a signed album after the show. The key moment of the set for me was their rendition of Steeleye Span’s ‘All Around My Hat’ in which they replaced the traditional lines with ‘And if anyone should ask me the reason why I’m wearing it, mind your fucking business, it’s my fucking hat!’. Genius.

The rest of the afternoon passed by far too quickly. Carthy and Swarbrick were as awesome as ever (folk gods amongst men) and I was astounded to read that Dave Swarbrick was pretty much dead and buried a decade or so ago after battling emphysema (it appears that The Telegraph even printed his obituary). After a double lung transplant, whilst he’s clearly not as fit as a fiddle, his fiddling’s certainly fit enough to accompany Martin Carthy in an hour long set of lush trad folk.

'Tull' rocking after all these years...

Before we knew it the Tull were on stage. I’m not as familiar with their stuff as I should be really. I sense a good session on Spotify looming. 'Heavy Horses' and 'Aqualung' I knew though and they were given rousing renditions by the band, some of whom are now well into their 60’s. Ian Anderson still does a little bit of that one legged business and plenty of Pete Townsend style windmilling using his flute as a substitute guitar. I’m not sure that the voice is as strong as it once was but the playing was spot on. I’d have liked to have heard ‘Living In The Past’ (NB: due to bus related issues we left after the first encore, so if they did play it I curse West Midlands Transport and their rubbishy service), but I guess true Tull fans were happy enough for it to be left out of a rollicking set of folk rock gold.

To keep my inner train spotter happy I also saw, Mary Hampton, The Pastels and Tenniscoats, Jackie Oates, Vetiver, Wolf People, Kelli Ali, Hunter Robinson (an awesome American dude with a banjo and voice like thick dark chocolate...make of that what you will... who did covers of old blues numbers from the 20's), Cara Dillon, Ella Edmondson and Mama Matrix…all good but if I carry on writing I’ll never stop.

Congratulations to all concerned for another cracking Moseley Folk Festival.

Moseley Folk Festival Day Two – Saturday 5th September 2009

Beth Orton

Day Two and an early-ish start (11.50) to catch tabla legend Pritam Singh. Glad we made the effort. In the right hands the tabla’s a remarkable instrument and today we were treated to a wide range of ‘conversations’ (the songs played on them) from around India. Watching Pritam’s fingers flash by in a frenzied blur you began to get a sense of the complexities of the music, every bit as impressive as, say, a guitarist at the top of their game. Full marks to the organisers for, once again, embracing a more global take on folk music.

A morris man gets high...

The Demon Barber Roadshow were the next act to really grab my attention, ska, morris and clog dancers and sword wielding rappers…no, not that sort of rapper…apparently it’s a form of traditional dance from Northumbria using swordy looking things (with a handle at both end though…as the rappers spent most of the time gripping both ends I guess having a sharp pointy end would quickly curtail the career of your average rapper faster than an AK47). It was a visual as much as a musical thing, although the wonderful traditional unaccompanied folk tracks sung by Bryony were as stirring as folk gets.

Wearing what looked a little like the more eccentric items from Alison Goldfrapp’s dressing up box Beth Jeans Houghton is one of folk’s hot young things. As well as being adorably eccentric she’s got a real knack for a catchy tune and a vocal that reminds me of a slightly drunk Karen Carpenter (once again, I’m sure that’s just me). Next up Drever, McCusker and Woomble are one of those groups that I’ve kept meaning to listen to. Idlewild, Woomble’s other band, were a particularly bright light in the mid to late 90’s and I recall a great gig at The Flapper (the first date of their first national tour I believe). On the way there we were listening to Steve Lamacq on the radio, he’d just signed the band to his label and they’d called in to his show for a chat…from a payphone near the venue. I had this great vision of several people crammed into a phonebox all furiously going through their pockets for 10p’s to keep the conversation going. Roddy ended up curled in a ball on the stage chewing his shoe…happy days. There’s far too little shoe chewing from our current pop stars. Anyway back to the present day. Roddy’s a lot more chilled now, but he still manages to instill that same sense of breast beating passion that made a lot of Idlewild’s early tracks so strong and, backed by Drever and McCusker, it was one of the discoveries of the weekend for me.

Be afraid...very afraid...Comus is coming...

From the sublime to the downright terrifying. Comus are one of those cult bands who made a fairly obscure record some 30 odd years ago then split up only to be rediscovered and resurrected for a second coming. I say terrifying because their first album, First Utterance (which formed much of the set), is full of doom laden psych tracks about shagging dead bodies, rape and losing the plot. Their lead singer (Rodger I think his name is), looked particularly demonic at times, as though he were channelling Beelzebub himself. Impressively demented. File under uneasy listening. Beth Orton ended the day nicely, but to be honest I was kind of expecting Comus to come onto the stage at any moment to start sacrificing virgins and the like. Time for bed…

Moseley Folk Festival – Day One, Frida (no, that’s not a mistake…read on) 4th September 2009

St Etienne's Sarah Cracknell

Whilst this is a certainly a ‘festival’ (full marks there chaps), and it’s in ‘Moseley’ (again, can’t fault you on that one), the ‘folk’ element is a little vaguer. Maybe they means that it’s a festival for people (or ‘folk’ as you could call them) who live in Moseley? It’s a minor point of course. I guess you could call any sort of music that observes life and society in some form as ‘folk’ music, which neatly embraces everything from Public Enemy to Tinariwen. Neither act was on today’s bill but we did get a positive cornucopia of musical delights. Once again Ben Calvert, the driving force behind Bohemian Jukebox (a mainly Moseley based night featuring all sorts of musical loveliness), was in attendance, kicking off the festival to a growing crowd of early comers (apparently, according to my growing email spam box, you can get some cream for that). He played ‘Flee’, which I love. I had a heavenly pint of cider. And the sun shone…kind of...although the wind made it feel a little arctic at times.

Other picks of the day included Fancy Toys (a kind of Anglo/French jazz pop collective who, at times, play each other…), a truncated Circulus (some of them were stuck on the M6…you wouldn’t get that nonsense in the middle ages) and Rose Ellinor Dougal (ex Pipette now doing her own thing…a mix of the melancholia of Morrissey and the space pop of bands like Broadcast or Stereolab).

Frida on Friday...

The big name for me though was Frida Hyvonen (or Friday Hyvonen as they listed her in the programme). I’ve had a bit of a Frida fetish for a year or so now after hearing her track ‘Birds’ on Pig Radio. Imagine a little Kate Bush, a dash of Tori Amos, some Regina Spector and healthy dose of Scandanavian cool and you’ll get some idea of the sound. The pounding piano version of 'Birds' which opened her set (I think the recorded track uses a harpsichord) worked really well and she went on to (it seemed to me at least) wow the crowd more than most of the first dayers. Her drummer did a little bit of tap percussion (Tilly and the Wall style), she took the piss out of a drunken bloke in the crowd who thought she was from Finland and then sang a cheerful little ditty about abortions before ending up with a storming version of ‘Scandavian Blonde’. She said she’d be in the crowd after the gig but I couldn’t find her. Probably for the best really…I’m sure I’d go into a bit of a Vic Reeves style leg rubbing.

The final act of the day also deserves a mention. I’d seen St Etienne back in 1864 at Glastonbury and they were alright. Sarah’s voice was a little weak as I recall. Tonight, reliving the whole of Foxbase Alpha, she was on fine form, kicking off with ‘Only Love Can Break Your Heart’ (which she didn’t sing originally, but we’ll let that pass). It all took me back to those distant days of the early 90’s (cue sepia footage featuring The Happy Mondays, World Of Twist and The Farm...remember them?) which, scarily, are coming up to 20 years ago. At times it felt old too, and I had a strange yearning to grab some glow sticks and a whistle, but it was all done with such a knowing sense of fun and the occasional more modern twist, that it ended up being one of the better Moseley headliners I’ve seen.

(Pete Ashton's review of Day One can be found right here)

Cabaret @ The Birmingham Rep, Wednesday 2nd September 2009

‘Wilkommen’ read the huge piece of set at the front of the stage in lightbulbs. ‘Is that the name of the person who wrote it…Will Kommen?’ I overheard someone say. To be fair the way it was laid out, with the ‘Wil’ bit first, then the ‘kom’ in the middle and the ‘men’ bit at the bottom might confuse you…but even so…

Anyway, tonight was a bargain. Sniffing around the tourist bit of Birmingham Library (the old one…which is perfectly acceptable in my book…why spend millions of pounds on a new one…oh…backhanders from developers you say…oh right…now I get it) I came across a small business card sized flyer offering 2 for 1 tickets for cabaret on the first two nights of the show. The seats were surprisingly decent too. Row J, at the side. £8.75 a pop. Like I say, a real bargain for a cracking night of Nazi themed musical sauce. I’m a bit of a fan of musicals these days. Blame my camp ‘tache if you will but when it’s done right it’s a glorious night out and tonight was done very well indeed. The set was simple but effective. The nudity was tasteful (shame…I do love a bit of nudity) and the orchestra (you sometimes forget that there are real life people down there in t’pit) and cast achieved the perfect blend of sleaze, decadence and menace that’s at this musical’s heart. Given that this was the eve of the 70^th anniversary of the declaration of World War II tonight’s performance had an added poignancy. The sudden sight of a young man dressed in a Nazi uniform (replete with swastika) singing ‘Tomorrow Belongs to Me’ was as repellent as it was obviously meant to be. The stars of the show, a gloriously camp emcee in the shape of Wayne Sleep and runner up Maria (from that ‘How Do You Make Another Million for Lloyd Webber’ programme) Siobhan Dillon were spot on. Siobhan’s voice and acting in particular were first rate, neatly avoiding the musical clichés that so many actors and actresses fall into (over emphasising words, giving it jazz hands all the bloody time, acting rather than living the part…). Can’t believe Wayne Sleep’s 61. He did a nice bit where they (in an obvious way) replaced him with a younger dancer wearing a pig head, making you think that he was too old to jig about. Camping it up like mad he quipped ‘Bet you think I’m too old to do that now dahhhlinks’ before executing a rather fine bit of furious tap. Bless ‘im.Unsurprisingly this production (well, last year’s version of it…which I imagine was pretty much the same) has won rave reviews and, even if you end up paying full price for the tickets, it’s money, money, money, money, money well spent.

Dirty Rapture / Dale Tomkins / The Dirty Knecks / All The More @ The Actress & Bishop, Friday 28th August 2009

By a strange quirk of fate tonight’s gig coincided with the 3^rd anniversary of The Hearing Aid. Yes, Bearwood’s number one music related website is 3 years old. Whooop! Yeah! Party time…oh, alright then, suit yourselves.

Fittingly, given the fact that one of the ‘aims’ (no, I know there’s no real point to this but I can pretend can’t I?) of the site is to ‘big up’ local bands, the Aid’s birthday coincides with one of the many local band showcases that go on in our fair city every week. Up and down the country there are loads of gigs like this. On the one hand they’re the breeding ground for a handful of our future stars and, on the other, they’re a chance for people who just love playing music to get up and do their thang. I’ve long since given up trying to predict the bands that will make it, the odds are so small and the influencing factors so random these days that it’s impossible to tell, but that’s not really the point is it? There are few things better than live music and I can guarantee that, unless you’re not really out to enjoy yourself, you’ll always find something worthwhile. Tonight’s voyage into the unknown (unusually for me I’d not seen any of the bands of the bill) kicked off in fine style with All The More. Cleverly fusing some classic rock sounds and vocals with a nu metal feel The More were also blessed with a bass player that fizzed (literally…I’m sure I saw him foaming at the mouth at one point) with energy. Bare footed and sporting a mess of blond hair flecked with bluey green he leapt around the stage, off the stage, up the walls, on the ceiling…I’m knackered just thinking about it. Bass players aside the band had some really good numbers including ‘Lullaby’ and ‘Remembering Jane’ plus a solid cover of the Foo Fighters classic ‘Everlong’. NB: For some reason I can’t find a MySpace page for them. Is there one? Answers on a postcard…

Next up The Dirty Knecks. Yes I know that’s knot how you spell ‘knecks’ but since when has rock n’roll been about spelling eh? Just cast your minds back to the golden days of Slade. Couldn’t spell a thing that lot and look where that got ‘em. Exactly. They too had a particularly impressive guitarist, this time it was the lead, who showed some Hendrix-esque flashes of brilliance…and you really can’t get better than that. The lead vocalist was hugely entertaining too. Imagine a cross between Jim Morrison and Keith Moon and you’ll get the picture. There was muchos rock posing and a strange kind of limbo dance sort of thing where he went back on his heels until his head was almost touching the floor. A couple of covers in the set, The Clash classic ‘London’s Calling’ and AC/DC’s ‘Riff Raff’ will give you some idea of their sound. “I hope we entertained you” enquired Mr Morrison / Moon as he left the stage. Yes. Yes, you did. Job done. NB: Can’t find a MySpace page for them either but there is one for their previous incarnation as The Wild Ones featuring one of the picks of their set ‘Grind Stone Oppression’.

Penultimate act Dale Tomkins was up next. One man (joined a couple of times by another man) and his guitar. Strange billing for Dale amongst the rock bands and, putting him on after 10pm when the club downstairs was just getting into full swing, probably wasn’t the best setting for him. Nevertheless he put on an impressive showing, teasing a surprisingly powerful sound out of his guitar. Something in my head prompted me to tag Dale ‘Acoustic Emo’, which is a fair description as his voice and lyrics have that kind of feel. It neatly sets him apart from a lot of singer songwriters out there. The addition of another (unnamed) vocalist for a couple of tracks worked really well, his slightly softer voice acting as a nice counterpoint to Dale’s more powerful vocal dynamics. I particularly liked ‘New York’ and the NME baiting track featuring the chorus ‘Fuck you and your shitty magazine’ sung over and over again with increasing bile. Quite right. NME, once a glorious piece of music journalism, is now a tired comic obsessed with hyping anything and everything in a desperate attempt to create a new movement to sustain it for another year. Whilst it has no future I’m pretty sure Dale does.

Finally, headliners Dirty Rapture. Formed from the smouldering ashes of another band, Riot Night, this was Dirty Rapture’s maiden gig and it showcased a fine album’s worth of self penned songs. Following 12 months or so of rehearsals the set was as tight a band with loads of gigs under their belt and, if there were any nerves, they didn’t show. Whereas Riot Night took their starting point from the sound and style of Oasis, Dirty Rapture has a heavier rock edge taking in everything from The Rolling Stones to The Sex Pistols. The set was book-ended with two of their best tracks ‘The Last of The English Roses’ and ‘Shot In The Arm’ but in between were numerous highlights showing that they can do melody and emotion every bit as well as full on rock n’roll. ‘Sunrise’ (sung by Chris, one of the guitarists in the band) and ‘Don’t Let The World Get You Down’ in particular provided refreshing interludes. Whilst lead singer Will still embraces his inner Gallagher (ironically Oasis were just in the middle of splitting up during Dirty Rapture’s set) there’s a touch of Johnny Rotten in there too, hanging off the microphone and studying the crowd with a nonchalant glare. His voice is far stronger than in his Riot Night days too, evidence no doubt that both he and the rest of the band have really put the effort in behind the scenes. An impressive debut performance all round and, as the last track of their set put it, a real ‘Shot In The Arm’ for lovers of raw rock n’roll.

Top Tracks # 1 - Camille - Gospel With No Lord

'What are your favourite tracks The Baron?' people never ask me. That's probably because I don't talk to many people, what with the multiple restraining orders and a tendency to start speaking in tongues. No matter. I've kind of fallen out of recommending tracks over the last year or so, mainly because my tastes change on an almost hourly basis...and also because I'm a lazy ass. However, fear not. I do hereby commit (I'm going to regret this aren't I?) to rectify this sorry state of affairs with a semi-regular feature cleverly entitled 'Top Tracks'. Yes...'Top Tracks'. Did you know I used to be a copywriter for a living? Hmmm...wonder why they made me redundant?

First up, and quelle honour, the lovely (and ever so slighty mad) Camille. She's French. She likes to get her ass out on public (or publique as she'd no doubt put it). And she makes some of the most original music...sorry...musique around. Her last album, 2008's Music Hole, was a largely acapella affair featuring my choice cut here 'Gospel With No Lord'. Being an atheist who's rather fond of gospel music (go figure) it's right up my rue. Her 2008 Big Chill performance still rates as one of the best gigs I've ever seen and the video that accompanies this track brings it all back. In fact it's simply tres, tres bonne. Right, that's my knowledge of the French language exhausted. Enjoy...

Miss Halliwell present Die Son! Die!

I’ve been meaning to write about this for ages but, you know, what with the washing up to do, the return of Deal or No Deal and other sundry distractions too mundane to mention (rocking backwards and forwards, looking for jobs that involve listening to music, eating chocolate and/or drinking Weston’s Old Rosie…surprisingly difficult to come by…and watching bees…damn they’re busy little bastards…that sort of thing) it kind of slipped by. No matter. Miss Halliwell, for the uninitiated, are (in my humble opinion) one of the more original Midlands bands of the moment. The Fall (whom they have already memorably supported) are an obvious touchstone but the band, still in it’s infancy really, are developing their own style of nutzoid indie. Originally a three piece there’s now five of ‘em. The undisputed star of the show is lead singer Miles whose stream of (un) consciousness lyrics (halfway between insanity and genius) are endlessly entertaining. In keeping with their original approach they bravely decided to record their debut album live alongside a DVD of the two performances in question. The result, ‘Die Son! Die!’, is out now in all good / remaining record stores (that’s Swordfish in Temple Street by the way) and the band’s got a couple of screenings coming up. The first is at The Old Wharf on 5^th September, the second at The Public (Liability) in West Brom on the 10th. Both shows include some live stuff too and are well recommended. Oooh dammit…I should’ve said ‘Halli-well recommended’. Nuts.

Pull Tiger Tail / The Vehicles / Black Market Empire @ The Flapper, Wednesday 19th August 2009

Many, many moons ago, March 2007 to be precise, I saw a cracking band called Pull Tiger Tail who’d produced a trio of equally top notch singles (Animator, Mr 100% and Let’s Lightning). I had high hopes for them (that’s normally the kiss of death for most bands I like) and then…nothing. It seems they ran into serious record company aggro and were stuck in some strange limbo land that prevented them from signing to anyone else or releasing their debut album. That was that as far as I was concerned until they suddenly announced a few gigs, including a date at The Flapper. It transpires that they’ve now wrestled their debut album from their ex-label’s (Boo! Hiss!) clutches and are self releasing it on t’interweb, with a short promotional tour to boot. Hurrah! Sadly it’s also their farewell tour. Boo! (jeez, is it pantomime season already?). Of course two and a half years in an eternity in music these days, hell, two and half days seems like along time now. That’s enough time to form a band, record and release your debut album, perform a live show online and then split up amidst a hail of abuse, recrimination and junkie crack whores. Would they still have that spark that I saw back then or, has the metaphorical and musical shit been kicked out of them by years of legal wrangling? In the best cliffhanger tradition (cue that drumming bit in EastEnders when Peggy actually reveals she’s a post op Frank Butcher) you’ll have to wait and see because first up were a brace of bands I’ve seen before fairly recently, Black Market Empire and The Vehicles.

Once again an impressive showing from both groups. Black Market Empire continue to hone their live set which seemed to work particularly well in the vault like atmosphere of The Flapper’s basement. If you’ve not been there it’s a little like The Cavern in Liverpool (the new one that is…the old one was knocked down and replaced with a car park…genius) and Black Market Empire’s music has, to me at least, got that classic Mersey beat kind of feel that bands like the La’s and Cast updated more recently. The bouncy Get Up, Get Down (complete with the dancing bloke again…get that man up there on the stage!) remains a set highlight. You can catch the band doing an acoustic set with Chris Helme (ex Seahorses) at The Hairy Hounds…no that’s not right…oh…The Hare and Hounds on 3^rd December.

Next up The Vehicles doing their spikey new wavey indie thang, the best example of which is Bright Young Things (which, nice folk that they no doubt are, you can hear on their MySpace page…go and listen…it’s very good). I was a bright young thing once. Well, I was young…and a thing. Bright? That’s pushing it a bit. Anyways, I’ve always enjoyed The Vehicles’ sets and tonight was no exception…even if they didn’t play one of their best songs The Best Things Come to Those Who Wait…there I was waiting for it and it didn’t come. Oh the irony.

Finally…and given the fact that they are days away from playing their last ever gig it really is pretty final...Pull Tiger Tail! The Tail of 2009 look pretty much the same as the Tail of 2007 but, if anything they’ve got even more tiger in their tank. I guess the pent up energy of their enforced hiatus coupled with the fact that they’re doing this mini farewell tour on their terms, free of any baggage or pressure helped to make this one of the sweatiest, most enjoyable gigs I’ve seen for a while. From handing out biscuits to the crowd (I didn’t get one…maybe they spotted the fact that I’ve eaten quite enough biscuits in my lifetime) to playing tracks requested by the faithful this was a joyous celebration of a great band who really deserved far more success. But then again making me bounce up and down (what…with my dodgy back?!) like a teenager has to represent some form of success. People traveled from far and wide to be here tonight too, everywhere from Manchester to Chelmsley Wood and the room quickly became a bit of a sweat pit…requiring some strategically placed towels on the stage to prevent any nasty slippages…urghhh. Animator, Let’s Lighting and Mr 100% (Supergrass’ Mansize Rooster on speed) were awesome, Hurricane also struck me (ho ho…very droll) and…oh hell…the whole set was great. I had the pleasure of talking to the lead Tail at the end and, whilst the band in its current form might be over, I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw (and heard) some more from the three of them at some point in the future. This tail might be at an end but who knows, another one could be about to begin...

‘Phonat’s the way to do it...

At 7ft tall (now that’s tall…) Italian producer Michele Balduzzi aka ‘Phonat’ clearly ain’t the kind of guy who does things by halves and his debut album’s every bit a towering as its originator. Like Coldcut back in the day and, more recently perhaps DJ Yoda, he’s a big fan of cutting and pasting all kinds of crazy shit together. On top of this try everything attitude he clearly has a real passion for ROCK too. Old school, head down, long hair RAWKKKKK. Take ‘Set Me Free’ for example, musically it’s got an Ibiza kind of vibe coupled with a power rock ballad kinda vocal. Then there’s ‘Learn to Recycle’, less a single track more an audio manifesto of Phonat’s approach. Squelchy synths, some ‘80’s style rock vocals, a bit of garage and enough artificial drum sounds to raise Keith Moon from the dead…it’s the kind of track the late, great John Hughes would be using in one of his films. Then you’ve got ‘London’, huge great slabs of rock guitar and fret wanking broken up by random bleeps and vocal samples of people ranting about ‘pointy shoes’.

Not a fan of rock? Don’t despair. There’s the electro meets ragga floor filler ‘Ghetto Burnin’’ (one of the album’s standout tracks) , ‘Bad Boy, which is a little like being locked in the boot of a max powered Sierra Cosworth and driven round Hackney (not that I’ve ever experienced that. It was a Seat of some sort…) and the Daft Punk tinged ‘It’s For You’. Sounds eclectic? That just about sums it up, but it’s an album that you’ll never get tired of dipping into either. Rated by respected tastemaker Rob da Bank and name checked by the big beat behemoth himself Mr Norman Cook it’s an ambitious debut with some moments of pure genius and a real classic rock spirit. In fact, if Led Zepplin were making dance music in 2009 this is probably what it would sound like…and that’s not a bad recommendation.

‘Phonat’ by Phonat is out on 21^st September on MofoHifi Records

The Big Chill, Herefordshire Friday 7th August – Sunday 9th August 2009

And lo, the lord sayeth it shall shine on The Big Chill, and it dideth. Yeth…against all the oddth the sun shone for pretty much the whole three days, just as it did in 2008. I have a feeling that The Big Chill organisers have some kind of pact with the weather gods. Whatever the reason, it makes camping in a field, paying £5 for a sausage and then pooing said sausage into a receptacle where 267 people have already pooed a whole lot more enjoyable.

This year’s medical disaster (as regular readers may recall I was stung by a wasp in 2008) was a bad back. When I say bad back I mean ‘OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED THERE I CAN’T WALK, BREATHE OR THINK WITHOUT THE MOST UNBELIEVABLE AGONY KNOWN TO MAN’. There I was, lying on the ground on my side watching The Leisure Society when I decided to turn onto my other side. Not a difficult move to pull off normally, even for someone with my limited gymnastic abilities. Something ruptured, broke, seized up, popped out…I’m no doctor…but when I jumped to my feet in agony I discovered I could no longer walk. This was pretty freaky. My right leg wouldn’t take any weight and my left leg refused to move. Thankfully, after a good ten minutes or so, the pain subsided enough for me to hobble, slowly, to the medical tent with the help of Lady B and I was dosed up with enough pain killers to floor an elephant and some (I’m assuming) anti-inflammatory drugs. The good doctor advised plenty of rest and ‘plenty of cider’. Hmmm, maybe he wasn’t a real doctor. Anyway I took him up of his second piece of advice but the first was a little impractical seeing as I was on day one of a music festival. Being a tight arse I decided to stick with it and gritted my teeth through the pain…how very rock n’roll…no, you’re right, it’s just ‘cos I’m a tight arse and the thought of spunking £360 + taxi and train fares to get me home caused me even more pain than the buggered spinal column. Anyway, enough of my failing body, on with the music and here, in no particular order were my picks of the weekend:

United Vibrations – I happened to catch these guys just busking by the side of the lake (see the pretty picture at the top of this gibberish) and was mightily impressed with their positive attitude and fresh take on jazz, funk, ska, rap…or, what they’re calling 12-Tone, a 21^st Century cousin of the late 70’s 2-Tone movement that did so much to break down the racial divide in music…which seems to have crept back somewhat. The idea is simple. 2-Tone was a reflection of the influences of ‘black’ and white music – ska and punk/rock. 12-Tone aims to take in a much wider spectrum of influences. They’re a seriously talented and formidable live unit with just so much potential it warms the cockles of my heart. They seem to be part of some kind of scene going down at The Roundhouse in Camden too, well worth checking out if you’re in that neck of the woods.

John Cooper Clarke – punk poet and all round legend JCC is as thin as a stick and sharp as a knife…and a lot friendlier and funnier than I’d imagined. His family friendly Chicken Town was a real crowd pleaser (if you don’t know it, it’s got the word ‘fuck’ in it about 15,000 times...seriously).

GaBle – mad ass French hip hop, folk, electronica trio featuring two blokes with beards and a lady without one. What Spike Milligan would sound like if he was French, a hip hop artist…and still alive, obviously. Check out ‘Puree Hip Hop’ (there’s no sampling of the vocals there…that’s what it sounds like live) and ‘Walking’ for contrasting ends of their material. C’est tres, tres bonne.

Alice Russell – Former Quantic Soul Orchestra songstress, now heading up her own band (featuring a cast of thousands…well, nine at least) she’s the real soul deal and so much more deserving of the attentions of the masses than Amy Winehouse. She was on sparkling form at the Big Chill and delivered a brilliantly fresh take on the (already) classic Gnarls Berkley track ‘Crazy’.

Hypnotic Brass Ensemble – Mo’ brass. Just realised that half of my picks (UV, Alice Russell and this one) have a strong brass feel. Hmmm, clearly I’m going through a bit of a brass fetish and, with these guys, you get a whole load of it. Like The Hot 8 Brass Band (who played the Chill in 2008), they use brass instruments (trumpets, tuba, sax) to deliver some devastating jazz, hip hop and Latin infused tracks. It sounds a bit naff on paper but live it’s a curiously powerful thing, makes you feel a little of the spirit of New Orleans and Yorkshire brass bands, stirring stuff.

David Byrne – filling the ‘living legend topping up their pension’ slot this year saw Mr Psycho Killer himself David Byrne take to the stage surrounded be a trio of dancers (filling in for the mad dancing about that he used to do in the distant past…maybe his back’s buggered too?) and musicians all wearing white, top to toe. Talking Heads are/were one of the greatest bands of all time and our Dave’s got a bag full of classic tracks (including ‘Once In A Lifetime’, ‘Road to Nowhere’, ‘Psycho Killer’ and ‘Burning Down the House’) that pretty much guarantees a great show. He kicked off with one of his latest though, ‘Strange Overtones’, the result of another of his collaborations with Brian Eno. It’s actually a pretty catchy after a few listens, certainly not out of place in the rest of the set and proof that he’s still coming up with the musical goods over 35 years into his career. But then, over the next hour and a half or so, we were treated to a generous and immaculately presented trawl through his back catalogue including three of the biggies already mentioned. No ‘Psycho Killer’ though. Boo! Hiss! I’ll forgive him, maybe now that the world’s full of ‘em he doesn’t feel quite so comfortable singing it. As anyone who’s seen any of the Talking Head videos or the seminal film ‘Stop Making Sense’ will realise, choreography is pretty important part of Dave’s performance and tonight’s gig featured lots of carefully staged set pieces that gave many of the songs a fresh feel. I loved the video clip of Dave, grinning like a nutjob and waving a cowboy hat, riding a fairground horse shown during ‘Road to Nowhere’ too. The whole show achieved that balance of being a little bit arty without vanishing up its own arse, which pretty much sums up Talking Heads for me. There’s a deeper meaning if you want to look for it, but there are great pop songs to dance to if you’re just up for a bit of a jig. Tonight’s gig was the culmination of a tour that’s taken the troupe around the world over the past year. There was a real sense that it was the end of something special for them all and I doubt if we’ll ever get to see such a comprehensive show from Mr B again. I’m not suggesting he’s retiring by the way, but, as I say, this was a pretty big production from an artist who seems as happy operating in his own sweet world as he is in the ‘mainstream’. Whether that’s the case or not, this was an…altogether now ‘once in a lifetime’ experience. See, now that wasn’t at all cheesy was it? Ouch.

PS: For the sake of completing the list of bands wot I have seen, I managed to catch some or all of: Erik Truffaz, The Leisure Society, Sweet Billy Pilgrim, James Yuill, Wildbirds and Peacedrums, Basement Jaxx, Sons of Arqa, Pharoah Sanders, Max Romeo, Music from the Penguin Café, Bonobo, Chrome Hoof, Tom Brosseau, Oren Marshall, Edward II, Sneaky, Andrew Bird, Rodriguez, Amadou & Mariam, Broken Records, Aruba Red and Telepathe…plus a talk with Michael Lang (the dude who put on the original Woodstock festival) and Simon Gandolfi (a remarkable character who decided that, at the age of 75, riding across South America on a motorbike after two heart attacks was a sensible idea…I loved the fact that he packed about three pairs of pants and a second hand pair of boots then just fucked off after about 5 minutes preparation…bonkers but inspirational).

Cornershop @ The O2 Academy, Friday 31st July 2009

Many people will know Cornershop for just one thing. That song. The Norm Cook remix of their ‘Brimful of Asha’ track was a ‘smash hit’ when such things still (just about) mattered…ahhh 1997…those far away days. This is a real shame. The ‘shop’s been producing original material for getting on for 20 years now and are proud holders of The Baron’s great lost album award for their last long player, Handcream For a Generation – a glorious mash up of funk, soul, 70’s rock, disco, reggae, indie and Indian influences (it even featured a certain Noel Gallagher on sitar…but we can forgive them that). If you’ve not heard it (and I’m guessing most people won’t have) make it your mission in life to check it out. Like I say it is, in my humble opinion, a classic. That was some 7 years ago though. Since then the ‘shop’s been boarded up, save for a couple of low key single releases. But now they’re back, back, BACK and touring (albeit a very low key kinda tour) to support their new album ‘Judy Sucks a Lemon for Breakfast’ (which seems to follow on from their lost classic, being heavy on samples and mixing up all kinds of good stuff).

Shop keeper Tjinder’s probably my kind of age, a child of the 70’s, that age of beige, flares, strikes, 3 TV channels (yes, really kids), Morecombe & Wise…sepia tinged happy days. He’s constantly referencing the 70’s too, Ford Cortina’s, Rocky, beat up Datsun’s, disco, Marc Bolan, Solid State Radios, cassette tapes (one of the few things I’m really glad to see the back of) and tonight’s set had the warm glow of that decade running through it. Tjinder looked pretty 70’s, sporting a fine pair of sideburns and a 70’s style brown cowboy style shirt and the band played their part by featuring a Hammond organ (or what sounded like one), some bongos and THE instrument of the early 70’s…the sitar! Someone even sparked up a phat one towards the end of the gig. Far out man. Anyway, I’m waffling again. The one concern I had before tonight was how the band would manage to translate the sampledelic sounds of ‘Handcream’ and ‘Judy’ to the live arena. Any concerns were rapidly dismissed with opener Heavy Soup. Using only a little pre-recorded stuff the band bought the track to life brilliantly before moving on to the 70’s glam stomp of ‘Lessons Learned From Rocky I to III’. ‘Sleep On The Left Side’ followed before a brace of their new tracks ‘The Roll Off Characteristics Of History In The Making’ and the Rolling Stones-ish ‘Who Fingered Rock n’Roll’ (see the video wot I has gone and kindly pasted up for you) which prove the ‘shop’s well and truly open for business. We had a couple of covers too. The first, a straight-ish run through of ‘The Mighty Quinn’, the second a sitar infused Indian version of ‘Norwegian Wood’. Bliss. Pure bliss. Of course they played ‘Brimful of Asha’ in its original (pre Norman Cook) version. Everyone really does need a bosom for a pillow you know. Wise words. People have formed whole religions on less than that. I can see it now - The Bosomists. People who pay homage to the mighty breast, seeking salvation at the nipple of enlightenment. Ahem…anyway…they finished off (in fine 70’s style) with a 20 odd minute version of Jullander Shere as the air filled with the delicious aroma of the ‘erb (much to the sitar player’s delight). The whole gig was a treat from start to finish. Cornershop are nothing short of a national musical treasure and the sooner they become your musical bosom (I just can’t leave breasts alone today can I? No change there then…) your life will be a whole lot better.

Emiliana Torrini / Island Line @ The Glee Club, Birmingham, Tuesday 28th July 2009.

Haven’t been to The Glee for ages. Not a bad venue but a little 'school assembly' (lots of chairs packed closely together) and some odd people in the audience (this is, of course, nothing to do with the venue). No doubt many in the audience would think I was odd, so there you go. One chap near me sat with his hands clamped over his ears in between sets, rocking slightly, and the guy in front spent most of the gig staring at the floor. I’m not sure what was quite so interesting about the floor, perhaps I should’ve asked him, but then again I might’ve ended up in little pieces inside his freezer…next to his mum. Casting aside such unpleasant thoughts first up were Island Line. Their set kind of washed over me in a nice folky haze, like lying in a stream on a warm summer’s day or as Emiliana puts it ‘Island Line are beautiful like newly baked chocolate cake and a glass of cold milk’. Quite right. I can’t do any better than that. Emiliana is very fond of saying stuff like this. Her set was littered with little insights into Emiliana world, like how, when she came to England, she had a dream of living somewhere urban and grittily romantic…only to end up in St John’s Wood (a v. posh part of London). Or how about loving the Birmingham accent and being surprised that we’re not all rock stars? Awwww bless. She reminded me of a less scary Bjork and comes across as sweet as a pink box full of pink kittens, all tied up in pink ribbons. Musically she shares a little of Bjork’s breathy delivery and kookieness too, you can imagine Bjork singing the slightly bonkers Jungle Drum (see video above) for instance. But most of the set was more along the lines of Sunnyroad, a laid back tune all about, as Emiliana explained, coming back to an ex-lover after sowing her wild oats and realising that he was the real love of her life after all. Aided by half a bottle or so of the Glee’s house red it was a lovely evening and only the bum numbing nature of the seats kept me from drifting away into that blissful place that’s halfway between this world and the next (you know, the kind of feeling you get sitting in front of log fire after a huge roast dinner). So there you go then. Emiliana Torrini, ‘as beautiful as a log fire and a roast dinner’.

PS: None of my 'award winning' pictures this time, decided to go sans camera for a couple of gigs to remember what it was like when I wasn't obsessed with capturing that perfect shot...or, in my case, at least an image that looks like a person.

Hjaltalin / Mr Bones & The Dreamers / 51 Breaks / This Beautiful Thief @ The Rainbow, Friday 24th July 2009

Swine flu. Rain. Unemployment. More rain. 2009’s shaping up to be a corker isn’t it? It strikes me that what we all need is a jolly good night of anthemic indie pop/rock (either that or a cut price Tamiflu cocktail served in a pair of wellies)…which is just as well as tonight The Rainbow hosted a 444 club extravaganza of musical delight. Nay, a cornucopia of orchestral majesty. Yes…a cornucopia. What? Too much? Oh alright then…

First up, This Beautiful Thief. Nope, not a tribute to Fred Goodwin (how is that man still alive?) but instead a highly accomplished band who I’ve enjoyed a couple of times before at The Rainbow. There’s much to like about the Thief. Anthemic (I’m going to be using that word a lot today), melodic indie rocksters with a Maximo Park-ish twang to the vocals (that’ll be the Geordie vocalist there) and a nice line in hook laden tunes. Opening track Falling Down (in my humble opinion their best number s far) in particular stood out, ‘I am faded, I am jaded with age’ rung a particular bell with me…but that’s probably because I’m 147.

Onwards to 51 Breaks, the only band that were ‘new’ to me tonight. A strong vocal performance from the lead Break and the drummer (yes…the drummer) combined with synth strings to make this an uplifting indie rock set with plenty of ooomph. Unusually for me (being a bit of a synth boy) I yearned for real strings in places, especially knowing that the next two bands featured them, but I guess it ain’t easy recruiting a violinist for a rock band. However I can just imagine this lot up on a big stage with a trio of fiddle playing lovelies…as I’m sure the band can too. Hopefully they’ll have the chance as they’re down to the last 6 bands (out of 4000!) on the Road to V thingy. Have a listen then hop over to the Road to V site and vote for ‘em.

Next up Mr Bones and The Dreamers. With a quivery vocal (think a happier Roy Orbison), lead Bone Keiren sings like his very life depends upon delivering his songs to the masses. I’ve seen Mr B and the D a few times before and this was their best showing so far. The violin (not sure whether that’s always featured quite so much) just lifts the whole thing to a different level. Oh deep joy. There’s a whole world of instruments out there aside from keyboards, guitars and drums. Use ‘em people! This band are special and deserve oodles more attention than they seem to be receiving. As a fan of The Decemberists (who’s tracks were playing in between sets) I’d put Mr B and the D in the same league, a clever, deep musical world with plenty to explore and in the case of Mr B and the D a surprisingly toe tapping heart (even if some of the songs appear to be about graves, death, doomed love, more death and a little death).

Finally, orchestral Icelandic pop anyone? Have I got the band for you. Hjaltalin! Nope I’m afraid I have no idea how to pronounce it either. Yaltalin? Hughjallatin? Youtellin? Answers on a postcard please because I’d like to spread the word about this lot. I caught some of their set at The Great Escape in Brighton, it wasn’t the best of conditions for them (or me...I was a little moist as the venue…the upstairs of a pub…was rammed and it was a warm day too….urggh). Tonight though the more open environment of The Rainbow courtyard gave the music room to breathe. Great chunks of orchestral magic dusted with soulful vocals (the lead vocalist almost hit Curtis Mayfield territory in places) and a side order of Scandinavian cool. There’s a touch of Coco Rosie to the female vocals, and some Cardigans in there too. Traffic Music in particular reminds me a little of the Cardigans ace early single ‘Sick and Tired’. There aren’t many bands that feature a bassoonist and, as with Mr B and the D, having 7 people in the group creates a sort of musical richness that’s often sadly lacking. What better way to cast off the cares and woes of life after a hard week watching ‘Deal or No Deal’ eh? If I was cheesy I’d end this review…‘now that’s why mum really went to Iceland’…yes, you’re right, I am that predictable.

Kid British / The Anomalies / Tempting Rosie @ The Rainbow, Monday 20th July 2009

40 years ago today man first walked on the moon (or did he…). I achieved a similar feat by getting to the gig on time, which, after last week’s bus journey from hell, is every bit as miraculous. That’s one small step for me, one giant leap for West Midlands Travel (or whatever they’re called now).

First up the 7 headed ska machine, Tempting Rosie. With a strong brass section firmly in place this lot can’t go wrong as a live act and, like the last time I saw them back in May, they went down a storm with the audience. As with the headliners Kid British they unashamedly take their influences from previous ska classics, ‘Fear’ for example I’m pretty sure takes its lead from The Beat’s Mirror in the Bathroom, but it’s all done with so much energy and passion that they neatly avoid sounding anything but fresh. A stonking cover of ‘A Message to You Rudy’ really proved the point.

Next The Anomalies, a band I’ve been banging on about for some time now. There’s little I’ve not said about them before, once again tonight they fused rap, rock, humour and social commentary together with a bucketload of poptastic tunes. Another great set but I get the feeling that the audience wasn’t quite right for them tonight – they kind of stood out as being the only non ska band on the bill and, whilst the applause was there, the crowd didn’t go as mental as I’ve seen them go before. It was nice to hear the BBC using some of their stuff a while back (advertising some programme about breakdancing crabs or hip hop antelope…something like that) and, were Top Of The Pops still around they’d be regulars. Speaking of which there’s a growing call to bring back TOTP, with Auntie Neil from the Pet Shop Boys accusing the BBC of failing to have the balls to bring it back. Quite right too. It may have turned into a shadow of its former self, and sure, it was as naff as hell half the time, but that was part of the fun. You only have to see what happens to bands who appear on Later…to realise that, even in this Twitter infested world, the telly can still have a pretty big impact on sales and careers.

Finally headliners Kid British, who, in a curious marketing tactic, released HALF their debut album today. I blame the credit crunch. Whatever next? Half a film? Half a Big Mac? Half a sixpence (one for the Tommy Steele fans out there…)? You could look at Kid British as a kind of 21^st century Specials, in other words a socially aware, multi-cultural band that takes its musical influences from 60’s ska, although in the case of Kid British there’s much more of a highly polished pop sensibility going on. A kind of boy band Specials then. They’re currently making a pretty big dent on the minds and ears of the yoot thanks to their sampling of the Madness classic ‘Our House’, in their 21^st century version ‘Our House is Dadless’, which predictably got the biggest cheer of the night. They’re far from one tune ponies though. The set was sprinkled with party ska a plenty leading to a mass skank and good natured stage invasion at the end that swamped the entire band, who, as far as I know could still be there beneath a sweaty pile of bodies…

Radio 4...Rainbow Nil

Not sure if you caught this (as it was on Friday, midday) when most folk were working (I remember that…), but the fight to save The Rainbow (the picture above currently adorns one of the courtyard walls) reached Radio 4's You and Yours. It’s a great little feature, again starring your friend and mine Martin Mullany, Birmingham’s Cabinet member for Leisure, Sport and Culture. That’s a joke right? Will he not rest until the place is another nice little apartment block? Clearly not. Anyway, have a listen, it’s about 15minutes in.

D’espairsRay / Heaven’s Basement @ The Rainbow, Thursday 16th July 2009

Well, no Rainbow gigs for weeks then I manage to make two in 72 hours. They’re like buses. Actually, scrap that. Thanks to buses…namely one bus (and a little mistiming on my part) we pretty much missed the entire set from the first band, Heaven’s Basement. Despite having 20 years gig going experience under my belt (I was only 2 when I started…honest) I sometimes cock it up. Tuesday night we arrived at 7.40 and the first band came on at 8.45. Three bands played that night. Last night we arrived at 8.20 and the first band had nearly finished but only two bands were playing that night. Pish. Had the bus driver not sat at a bus stop reading the paper for 15 minutes (it seems he was ‘early’…he could’ve mentioned this when we got on the bloody thing… “excuse me I hope you’re not in a hurry ‘cos I’m going to take 40minutes to drive into Birmingham. Okay?” That would’ve done the trick) we would only have missed the first couple of songs. Oh well. C’est la vie.

Anyway tonight saw a rare UK gig for J-Rock (as in Japanese…they’re Japanese you see) legends D’espairsRay. I knew little about them but I’m a bugger for Japanese music. Call it a fetish or J-Fet if you must. First up though, some Y-Rock (Yorkshire…see what I did there?) in the form of Heaven’s Basement. I’m guessing Heaven’s Basement would be hell right, which is dead rock n’roll isn’t it? Grrrrr. Actually The Basement seem to be making a bit of a rock n’roll name for themselves having landed a support slot with non other than Bon Giovanni…Jovinni…Jovi. Clearly they were ‘wanted dead or alive’ (oh my aching sides). Musically (from the one track that I heard) they’re classic rock in the vein of Guns n’Roses, Aerosmith…that kind of thang. They actually sounded quite good and had whipped the black clad audience into a sweaty mess.

Headliners D’espairsRay just look the part – cute but a little scary at the same time. Like a kitten with a flick knife. Japanese Goth Rock might not be big in the UK…and maybe I didn’t understand a single word they were singing…but since when has music been all about understanding stuff. It’s the feeling, right? From the off there were a hardcore band of headbangers who valiantly attempted to remove their noggins by furiously nodding away like that Churchill dog on speed. I, being an older gentlemen, nodded along in the manner of a kindly vicar at a tea party whilst supping a perfectly agreeable Cabernet Sauvignon (now that’s rock n’roll). Surprisingly (I’m guessing few of the audience actually spoke Japanese) a load of people seemed to know all the words and the atmosphere was one of fevered worship. D’espairsRay certainly put their heart of souls into it, pulling loads of rock god poses along the way and leaning out so that the adoring masses could have a stroke (of the band…not some kind of embolism…although I’m guessing that headbanging could do that to you). One thing that did stand out as being a little unusual was the band’s attitude towards their fans taking pictures of their idols. I understand how bloody annoying it must be having flashes going off in your eyes but clearly a few fans wanted a record of this gig (even without using a flash). The band’s security dudes made a beeline for every single one and made it quite clear that this wasn’t on (although, as you can see, I snuck a cheeky one in). Speaking of fan treatment, £30 for a CD? Really? Hmmmm. £25 for a t-shirt? I have no doubt that the band are megastars in their native country but over here (as the humble venue proved) they’re clearly just starting out. I also heard a couple of hardcore fans discussing the chance of meeting their heroes. Once again it seemed that the band were strictly off limits. Gig finished, their work was done. Like I say, it’s the real fans I felt a little sorry for. I was just there to enjoy the show. And I did. Cop a listen to Kamikaze (how appropriate given the promoters) and Redeemer and you’ll get a good sense of the energy that the band put into it all. The bass player did a neat thing at the end too. Taking a large glug of water he sprayed it over the crowd from his mouth. I copped a faceful myself. Maybe it’s a Japanese thing? Mata ne!

The Temper Trap / I Thee Lothario / Black Market Empire @ The Rainbow, Tuesday 14th July 2009

Mon dieu, it’s been a while. Yep I’ve been AWOL from The Rainbow since May, missing (amongst other things) the great noise abatement gathering. But surely the old place would be the same right? After all The Rainbow’s like an old friend, reliable and solid, full of familiar faces and…hang on…this isn’t Oz Toto…what’s happened here…oh my lord…they’ve moved the stage. Agggghhhhhhhh! Okay, don’t panic now. Breathe deeply. Go to your happy place. Ohmmm. Yes, in typically undramatic fashion I can reveal that The Rainbow stage, for years located by the ‘back’ wall of the courtyard is now firmly plonked against the side wall. Why? Search me. Maybe it’s a noise thing. I’m not convinced it’s the right move but time will tell…that’s if the bloody place has any time left.

Casting aside any thoughts of a Rainbowless world (what would George, Bungle and Zippy do eh?) first up tonight were Black Market Empire who I’d last spied in April. More polished this time (showing the benefits of plenty of gigs no doubt) the echoes of Cast/La’s are still there but joined with a little more Ocean Colour Scene/Weller influence. I mentally greeted the jaunty ‘Get Up, Get Down’ like an old friend, which is always a good sign and the crowd, featuring a particularly enthusiastic dancer at the front (nice moves there my friend), seemed to enjoy the performance too. Fans of that classic ‘60’s tinged British Mod rock beloved by Mr Weller and OCS will love these guys.

Next up, I Thee Lothario. Oh yes. Third time I’ve seen this band and, whilst I’ve been impressed on both occasions, this time they blew me away. I have to admit to being a little prejudiced as I have a real thing for the ‘80’s. I think last time I made comparisons to Icicle Works, Simple Minds and Killing Joke. Those influences are still there but I was struck with a big wedge of early Spandeau Ballet tonight too especially when the band were joined by Sax god Byron. This is genius. Sax + keyboards + guitars = 80’s pop heaven. And, as we all know, 80’s pop heaven is pretty cool right now. The lead Lothario did loads of posing, arms outstretched (see picture above) as though summoning the gods of Top Of The Pops to come down from heaven (17) and pluck up the entire band for superstardom. There’s loads of pomp, deep and meaningful lyrics (and some pretty silly ones too…that’s the joy of it all) and a vocal that makes every word seem crucial. Next time I want to see the entire band in matching outfits, preferably white suits with the sleeves rolled up. Then my joy will be complete. Seriously though, this was a stadium worthy performance.

With Ashes rivalry gripping the nation (well, 5 old men and an ailing parrot called Colin) could the Aussies, in the form of headline act The Temper Trap, bowl a ‘googly’ and see off the mighty Lothario? It was a close run thing with plenty of fours, a couple of sixes and very few ducks. Okay, I’ll ditch the cricket bollocks now and report that The Temper Trap are worth all the hype that they’re currently attracting from tastemakers across the world. Mining a similar musical seam to TV On The Radio (drummy, disco, soul, funkiness…er…that kind of stuff) they’re blessed with the fine vocal talents of Doughy who reaches for the kind of high notes that few men with tackle would dare tackle. Add in some of those Afrobeat guitar stylings that Foals and Vampire Weekend have made achingly cool, oodles of sweaty energy and some moments of pure musical sunshine and you’ve got something pretty magical. In fact, you could say that they’re the…oh dear…dare I…oh yes…why not…no one reads this anyway…THE WIZARDS OF OZ.

Cornbury Festival, Charlbury, Oxfordshire Saturday July10th – Sunday July 12th 2009 (the music bit)

Being a relatively new festival there aren’t dozens of stages vying for your attention at Cornbury. In fact there’s just three – The Main Stage (good name there fellas), The Word Stage (sponsored by the magazine…although I saw no presence from them whatsoever) and The Riverside Stage. This makes planning your viewing pretty easy, in turn making the festival a lot more chilled out. The line up was suited to the target audience too, featuring a good wedge of well known, well established artists together with some up and coming talent on the smaller Riverside Stage. The weekend had more than enough musical highlights for me though – some from unexpected quarters. I’d kind of heard The Boy Least Likely To before (their ‘Be Gentle With Me’ track’s used on a TV ad of some sort…can’t remember what…that’s the power of advertising for you eh?), I might even have an album somewhere in my leaning towers of CD’s but they were a real treat. I guess you’d call them tweecore, musically there’s a touch of Too Rye Aye era Dexy’s to their sound these days plus the inevitable nod to the gods of twee, Belle and Sebastian. The banjo-tastic Saddle Up and When Life Gives Me Lemons I Make Lemonades were particular highlights. Perfect music for the English summer…which takes me nicely on to Dodgy…writers of arguably one of the greatest summer songs of all time, ‘Staying Out For The Summer’. I’ve been a fan of Dodgy since the early days and was chuffed when they made it big. I don’t hold with this current sniffiness about ‘Brit Pop’. Like all eras there were some great groups around then and some cracking tunes released. Dodgy were responsible for more than their fair share of them so it’s great to see the band back in their natural environment – on stage at a festival. They delivered a perfect greatest hits set together with a couple of lesser known tracks including ‘UK RIP’ and a new song, ‘New Deal’ about unemployment – both pretty timely these days. Lead singer Nigel also made a plea for people to remember our troops even if we don’t agree with the current war. It was pretty much the only political statement made during the entire festival but it underpins the fact that Dodgy always have made a stand for things that they believe in – from being arrested years ago for playing an Anti-Poll Tax show through to playing a shed load of benefit gigs over the years (including one for Crisis just a few weeks ago). Perhaps if more artists had as much integrity we wouldn’t be in the mess we are now eh? Perhaps the next generation would have more interest in engaging with the political system? Oh good grief I’m turning into Question Time…but you get the point. Anyway, a great set as ever. In fact I’d go as far to say that it was bostin.

Next up we enjoyed another summery set from The Magic Numbers featuring those blissful 60’s tinged harmonies that made the band’s name. Enjoyed a rare backstage view of the whole show courtesy of our Artists passes too (see the non-music bit for details).

Sharleen Spiteri anyone? I must admit I wasn’t really sure myself, Texas did some good tracks but I couldn’t remember that many of them after the first hit ‘I Don’t Want A Lover’ (which I actually bought back in…good lord…1989). She won me over pretty quickly though thanks to a cracking vocal. Great lords a mercy the girl can sing, she’s got a belting voice but with a real soulfulness. One by one I began to remember the hits too, her current band seemed to do them better. Plenty of brass and oomph. I could kind of see her doing a Dusty and releasing something classic pretty soon. Colour me surprised.

The final highlight of the day for me was seeing The Damned. From punk originals through to goth tinged covers they’ve always been an entertaining band and their set covered all bases, Captain Sensible even managed to slip a cheeky ‘Happy Talk’ into the set. Lead singer Dave Vanian still looks cool, now featuring a rather dapper ‘tache he could pass for a gothic Errol Flynn, and the crowd loved every minute of it. One or two even made a desperate attempt to get on to the stage at the end only to be taken down by the security guards. Who say punk’s dead eh? After catching some of Scouting For Girls we ended up dancing outside the Disco Shed having consumed our own weight in Pimms. Game over.

Day Two couldn’t quite compete with Day One but Cornwall’s 3 Daft Monkeys got things off to a fine start with a frantic set that would put The Levellers in a spin. Imelda May proved to be a real treat too, a jazzy, swingy 50’s style sexbomb featuring one of the dudes from Birmingham’s own King Pleasure and the Biscuit Boy (latterly of the awesome Palookaville) in her band. The strangest moment of the entire festival was seeing The New Forbidden (pictured) featuring vowel stretching pasta sauce king Loyd Grossman. Yes…I know. Incredibly he plays a pretty mean guitar and the band played a pop punk set that kept me interested enough to stick around for the whole show. Pretty catchy actually. Looking into this strange event it seems that our Loyd has some previous form here. In the last 70’s he was the lead singer of a punk band called Jet Bronx And The Forbidden who had a number 49 ‘hit’ single with a song called ‘Ain’t Doin’ Nothing’. Loyd no longer sings and the band now has a vocalist called Valentine. I have no idea what his background is...maybe he makes pasta? Ohhh hang on…the surname gives the game away…Guinness…yes that Guinness. The black stuff. Lawks a mercy. Maybe they should do a cover version of ‘Money, Money, Money’? Next up another blast from the past with The Lightning Seeds. Ian Broudie’s got a real knack for catchy pop songs like The Life of Riley, Pure and Sense but, predictably, the crowd wouldn’t let him escape without playing THAT tune. Let’s keep Three Lions under wraps until the England squad bloody win something now. Please.

Irish jazz folk legend Mary Couglan delivered an eclectic, rabble rousing set, liberally scattered (Father Ted style) with lot’s of ‘feck it’s’. She did a pretty haunting version of ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’ that only someone who’s lived a bit could really pull off. I don’t know a great deal about her back catalogue but I’ve marked her down for investigation. Continuing the Celtic flava Peatbog Faeries (pictured) combined electronica, bagpipes, fiddles, whistles and (probably) a kitchen sink too. On paper it sound like a bit of a hippy dippy mess but live it’s immensely enjoyable and I could swear I could feel the stirrings of my Scottish ancestry deep within. Finally, The Sugababes, although only one of the original band now remains – it probably doesn’t matter as you could replace any of them without doing much damage to ‘the brand’. I’m not being sniffy here but polished pop like this leaves little to chance. You can’t knock planet Sugababe, it’s clever stuff, accessible enough to appeal to a pretty wide demographic. Some of the tunes aren’t bad either – Overload, the Gary Numan sampling Freak Like Me, Round Round and Hole In The Head – all perfect pop. With Suga (and more than a little vodka) coursing through our veins we were on our way back to our tent when we got talking to a couple of mental health nurses just next to us. After talking bollocks in that festival way and polishing off a box of red followed by some hot chocolate and whiskey we finally made our damp £7.50 Tesco tent for 3am. Ouch. I have to say that I enjoyed Cornbury far more than I expected to. Whilst you don’t get the kind of diversity of Glasto or the cool of The Big Chill what you do get in spades is a really well organised event, a beautiful location and plenty of safe hands, musically speaking. It’s the perfect family fest, replete with tea and cake tents, a fun fair and a delicious hog roast in aid of the local school. What’s not to love about that eh? Now, I'm off to bed...oh bugger...no I'm not I'm off to see The Temper Trap at The Rainbow instead. Ah well, who needs sleep...or a liver.

PS: My thanks go to Math and Dodgy for putting us on their guestlist and the lovely folk at The Cornbury Festival for having us.

Cornbury Festival, Charlbury, Oxfordshire Saturday July10th – Sunday July 12th 2009 (the non-music bit)

Way back in May (well it seems way back to me) we met up with Math (the drummer from Dodgy) at The Great Escape Festival in Brighton. As long time fans of the band (ahhhh who can forget The Hibernian in 1993?) we got chatting and – being officially the nicest bloke in music – he offered to put us on the guestlist for one of Dodgy’s festival dates this year. As good as his word we found ourselves in possession of a pair of weekend camping wristbands for Cornbury plus the Willy Wonka golden ticket of festivals – a backstage ‘Artists’ pass for the first day. I’ve never been backstage at a Festival before. The beauty of VIP tickets and backstage passes for fests is that you get a rare chance to sit down on something other than mud and cigarette butts, which, when you’re getting on a bit, is a hell of a bonus. You also get a chance to mix with the bands. I’m always a little wary of this one. I’m sure most artists don’t really want all kinds of random souls coming up to them when they’re trying to chillax with their crew or caning their rider. I generally limit myself to a ‘hi’, ‘nice to meet you’, ‘great gig’…that sort of thing…enough to show your appreciation without being a pain in the ass. Having an ‘Artists’ pass gives you an even rarer privilege though. You actually get to go on the stage whilst a band’s performing. Obviously you have to be sensible and stand in the wings out of sight but it does give you a pretty unique view on the whole thing. We only did it once (see below) but I can now report that, from an ‘enjoying the show perspective’ it’s actually better out front with the masses. For a start you’re not looking at the arses of the band, the sound’s being projected out to the audience too and there’s something a little bit Wizard of Oz about being backstage – some of the mystery goes when you can see how it’s all done. But, that being said, it was a real treat to experience it all and – on top of mingling with the ever lovely Dodgy we got to natter with punk legends The Damned after their set too.

Anyway, enough of my showbiz life, what was Cornbury actually like? Well it’s in a beautiful spot just outside a little village called Charlbury. Getting there – even by train – was a bit of a doddle and the facilities were head and shoulders above any other festival I’ve been to. The loos were clean, they had a fair supply of showers and plenty of food on offer (including an organic, locally sourced food market thingy). Nicknamed ‘Poshfest’ by some the crowd were a pretty well to do bunch. Some of their tents were bigger than our house and I’m sure I saw one or two butlers preparing tiffin but the friendly festival spirit remained firmly in place. My only gripe – and it’s a pretty major one – is to do with Magners. I’m not a fan of Magners. Ice? In cider? Are you nuts? A few years ago you’d be sectioned for lobbing a chunk of frozen water in your pint but now – no matter what brand of cider you ask for – the bar staff look at you like some kind of freak if you refuse their request to ram your glass with half an iceberg. The iceification of cider is not all I dislike about Magners though. It’s just a pretty sickly artificial imitation of cider sold at a huge premium to people who aren’t given much choice. This market intimidation reached a pretty vile conclusion this weekend. I’d noticed a small stand (Benson’s) selling local apple juice and ‘proper’ cider on the first day of the festival. Very nice it was too. £3.00 a pint and clearly made just from apples. Yum. I had a couple of pints during the Saturday then returned later in the day for another to be told that the Magners people had forced the festival organisers to shut them down. It appears that Magners had signed some kind of exclusivity deal on cider and saw a tiny fraction of their potential profit going to someone else. Now, I’m not a hippy. I (sadly) know all about the commercial realities of the world. But this was a real case of using a sledgehammer to crack a nut. Whilst Bensons were selling cider to a few of us, many people preferred the alchopop taste of Magners. That’s their choice. Good luck to them. At £3.70 for a very small bottle (I’m guessing less than half a pint) they need all the luck in the world. I happen to prefer a more natural taste. Clearly the folk at Magners would like to eliminate personal choice and force their sugary muck down our throats, wiping out independent producers and putting local people out of work in the process. This stinks. I’m sure the festival organisers had their hands tied (I’m guessing the money from the exclusivity deal paid for some of those loos) but I’d rather put up with a bit of other people’s shit than a whole load of the corporate variety. I’m sure it won’t make a jot of difference but I've set up a blog to rid the world of this evil.

If you drink Magners I urge you to try something else…anything else…preferably proper cider from a local producer. On the more mass market front Westons do some really good stuff (Old Rosie is awesome), Scrumpy Jack ain’t bad, I’ll drink Strongbow and Blackthorn in an emergency too...

Missill-ing in Action

Cramming a frankly mind melting 40 tracks (mash ups, remixes and rarities from some of the cream of the dancefloor crop) into 50 minutes can’t be an easy trick. Stopping it all from sounding like a dog’s dinner must be even harder but Missill (from la belle Francais) has pulled it off with her latest release MixShake. As the title suggests it’s a booty shakin’ dancefloor filler featuring (amongst many others) the queen of dirty dancing herself, Kelis, Mr Oizo and Sinden and Count (the dudes behind the frankly classic 'Beeper'). Take a look at the track listing and she’s not the only one getting her freak on…'Android Porn’ and ‘Hardcore Girls’ anyone? Sounds like a perfect night in to me. In fact the whole album’s pure dancefloor filth, with as Old MacDonald might put it ‘a muthafucker here, a muthafucker there everywhere a muthafucker’. It’s mixed to perfection though. Like Jordon’s cleavage there’s not a millimetre of dead air between any of the tracks and, just like Jordon’s cleavage, it’s pretty much guaranteed to…ahem…get you up. Full marks for the Zombie Disco Squad track, ‘Eurovision’, featuring back to the old skool foghorns and DJ Funk’s insanely catchy ‘Bang Da Floor’. ‘Shake that ass round and round’ indeed...

Missill’s ‘Mix Shake’ is out on Discograph on 27^th July. Remember kids…always practice safe decks.

Coin operated girl...or how Amanda Palmer's reinventing the music biz and sticking it to ‘the man’.

I love Amanda Palmer. On top of writing some awesome tunes, beating seven flavours of holy crap out of her piano and getting naked on a fairly regular basis (see her recent ‘write your question to me on part of your body and I’ll write the reply on mine’ act), she’s busy reinventing the music business (or, to be more accurate, how you actually make a living out of it) on her own terms. Every so often I’ll drop into her lengthy, day enhancing blog and lately it seems that she’s been taking more of a homespun approach to the whole career thang, playing impromptu all ages gigs for people on beaches (the video above is from a recent beach gig) and in parks and collecting donations (totally at the discretion of the audience) in return. Of course busking’s nothing new but you don’t generally get well known artists doing it. A few weeks back she hit on another idea. Sitting at home on a Friday night she sent out a Twitter message to her 30,000 or so followers and started a virtual online party. This in turn generated a t-shirt featuring the legend ‘Don’t stand up for what’s right, stay in for what’s wrong’. A few hours and many orders for said shirt later she’d grossed $11,000. Then she held an online auction, selling all sorts of random shit that was just laying around her apartment. Raised another $6,000. A few days after that she held an online gig and asked for donations from her viewers…raising a neat $2,000 in the process. I’m no Carol Vorderman but I make that a rather tasty $19,000 in just a few nights. Amanda noted that the sales of her last album (currently standing at 30,000 copies), funded by a major label who need to shift a hell of a lot of units just to recoup their investment, had netted her exactly $0. Zip. Zero. Bugger all.

Individually none of her actions are revolutionary but Amanda’s seemingly putting this quirky approach to financing her lifestyle right at the heart of her career and having a hell of a lot of fun with it too. Along the way she’s directly (and that’s an important point – Amanda to fan without the middle man is a lot more powerful than being marketed to by a faceless corporation) building herself a loyal fanbase of folk who are happy to fork out whatever they can afford, whenever they can afford it, in order to spend some quality online time with their heroin(e). And she’s doing it all without...’the man’. Of course she is Amanda fucking Palmer. She already had a decent fanbase, developed through the more traditional music biz model…album…tour…album…repeat to fade. I accept that it’s not going to be as easy for new groups to suddenly start selling the contents of their knicker drawer for cash. But, if you’re in a band and you’re struggling to make a buck, maybe her ‘what the hell, let’s just try it’ (or, as the corporate clones would put it ‘hey, let’s think outside the box’) approach might help…