Mostly Jazz, Funk and Soul Festival 2012 29th June – 1st July

Day One - Friday June 29^th

Given the frankly apocalyptic weather conditions (flash floods, lightning, hails stones the size of your head, plagues of locusts...that kind of thing) that struck the Midlands the day before this year’s MoJaFuSo it’s a miracle that the entire site wasn’t washed away into the oceans, only to reappear somewhere on a beach in Trinidad sometime in 2014. Happily the site survived and despite a little mud (hell it wouldn’t be a festival this year without mud) the place was pretty much intact as opening act, the Lizzy Parks fronted electro jazzers Maylight took to the stage on Friday afternoon. An unexpectedly groovy treat for the early arrivers (come on now...admit it...who threw a ‘sickie’ to be here?). 

Rising local stars Free School capped a hugely impressive week (support slot for Editors’ triumphant homecoming gig and a play on prime time 6 Music) with another fine set of retro futurist house tunes before Gilles Peterson (wearing the kind of mac usually favoured by flashers...but he’s just cool...so he can get away with it...the mac wearing that is, not the flashing) pitched the mood just right in his DJ set, gently easing the crowd into Paper Tiger’s chilled out inner city jazz hop.

A few years back Introducing hit upon the novel concept of recreating DJ Shadow’s sampledelic classic Endtroducing using a real live band. It’s proved popular. So popular in fact that Shadow’s agent has come down on ‘em like a crate full of 12inches and ordered them to cut it out immediately. 

Consequently this was the LAST ever Introducing presents Endtroducing show, frankly a tragedy for all concerned. It’s a great concept and their live versions of The Numbers Song and Midnight In Perfect World are just too good to stay locked up in Shadow’s box. Sort it out dudes.

Bad Bad Not Good soundtracked several seasons as wind, rain then sun fell on the rapidly growing crowd, joyfully freed from their desk shackles and well and truly ready to party. Playing the sort of ultra cool sounds that Shadow would sample it was one of those sets that makes you that little bit cooler just by being in the vicinity. Next up Ghost Poet bringing a little Gil Scott Heron meets TV On The Radio vibe. Pick of the set, last year’s breakout single Survive It, could well be our new national anthem thanks to its careworn hope in the face of hopelessness chiming perfectly with a country (and world) rapidly sliding to its knees.  

Festivals can make or break bands and Troumaca’s primetime slot (just before Roots Manuva) was perhaps a bold move given the fact that they’ve only been around for a year or so. The overwhelming consensus of opinion was that they nailed it though. In fact they nailed it, sanded it and varnished it. Carrying on Brum’s fine tradition for incendiary reggae (a fact acknowledged by the lead singer’s Steel Pulse t-shirt) they’ve added a little dubstep and tropicalia to the mix creating something that should chime perfectly with ‘dem yoot’. The rallying cry of Fire has rapidly become something of an anthem for them and so impressed Gilles Peterson that he offered to sign the band on the spot. Free School, PEACE, Troumaca...can it be that Birmingham’s much anticipated musical rebirth is finally happening?

Now nudging 40 the man born Rodney Hylton Smith, better known as Roots Manuva, has 5 solo albums under his belt and a handful of truly classic singles all of which got a spin tonight. It’s the perfect mix of hip hop, dancehall and ragga together with that little added extra (bonkers retro arcade game sound effects for instance) and a fine way with words that mark Roots out as something special. Dressed in a Kanye West style white suit and shades and joined by another two MCs he led a juiced up crowd in a series of increasingly enthusiastic bouncealongs and arm wavings including a joyful Moseley-centric version of Dreamy Days. Perhaps predictably the biggest cheer of the night went to the party banger Witness (1 Hope) though, which saw the bouncing reach frankly earthquake inducing levels. Off the (Richter) scale.   

Day Two – Saturday June 30^th

Day two and thanks to the UK’s number one funk and soul DJ Mr Craig Charles (who curated this section of the festival), things were about to get F U N K Y.

Let’s face it...cover bands can suck. Big time. You’d be forgiven for approaching legendary US soul n’ funk band Tower Of Power fetishists Rotunda Of Wonder with caution then. Relax. Despite kicking off at dawn (oh alright then 11.30am...it felt like dawn) they managed to put on one of the shows of the festival. A blistering 10 piece band with a powerful lead vocalist (equally at home with the more bluesy soulful numbers) they blazed through an album’s worth of Tower Of Power’s greatest hits and misses funking up the small but rapidly hyped up crowd. Well worth getting up (and staying on the scene) for.

The Coleman Brothers (playing the first of two sets this weekend) provided a chance to chill out for a moment with some fine horny Latin jazz and, joined by sister Sara, a neat cover of The Doors Light My Fire before the Electric Swing Circus fused the 1920s and 2020s in an energetic set that saw some furious swing dancing taking place in the drizzle. Anyone for bongos? You’re in luck. The Bongolians make you feel like you’re in a particularly cool episode of Starsky & Hutch and, incredibly, they’re every bit as great as their seminal ancestors The Incredible Bongo Band. Yes. I know. Incredible.

Rather brilliantly the next band on the schedule Lack Of Afro...failed to turn up. Genius. That left the way clear for Speedometer to demonstrate just why they’re rated as one of the best, most authentic funk bands around right now. Like the funk greats there’s a real sharpness and kick to the horns that makes all the difference. It was a mind blowing flute solo mid set (which broke into Mission Impossible) that stole the show though. The dude that played that must have asbestos lips. Damn that’s some funky shit.

Rising from the flames of their DJ Shadow embargo Introducing turned their attention to recreating Mr Scruff’s back catalogue with the same sense of devotion, neatly lining up the crowd on a platter for Glasgow’s finest The Federation Of Disco Pimp to deliver yet another devastating funkathon. Another Average White Band...in the very best possible way.

Despite not having any original members (one of the band’s original lead singer’s son’s in the line up...so that’s something at least) Odyssey were a disco treat from start to finish. Kicking off with Native New Yorker they worked their way through the hits, Use It Up, Wear It Out, Inside Out and, thanks to a little technical cock up, a beautiful stripped back version of If You’re Looking For A Way Out.  

Follow that? Anyone who was at 2011’s Mostly Jazz will remember Craig Charles’ set as one of the highlights of the weekend and this year was no different. 

Wisely scattering his set with some well known classics as well as the more obscure stuff for the crate diggers out there he got the crowd dancing like no one else and a sing along version of Marley’s Is This Love? (which Craig charmingly acted out) was oddly moving. The set ended with daughter Nellie up on the decks and a good natured stage invasion to Alice Russell’s (I think it was her) funked up version of the White Stripe’s 7 Nation Army. Now that’s how to whip up an audience.

That only left room for one more band, The Family Stone. Sadly Sly’s decline and fall has been well documented and it’s hard to put the dude’s albeit self inflicted suffering out your head (check out You Tube for a truly tragic video of him seemingly living in a car last year). 

Happily the current line up features three original members (including a still sassy looking Cynthia Robinson) from The Family Stone and, of course, they still have the tunes, Everyday People, Stand, Family Affair, Dance To The Music...each and every one a (Family) stone cold classic. 

Sly’s stand in did a fine job, the younger female vocalist raised the blood pressure of every single male in the audience and this line up certainly did the material justice. In fact when they were playing they blew the place apart but the lengthy band intros undoubtedly slackened the pace a little. 

When all you wanna do is dance to the music talk is cheap.   

What a line up and what a funking great day. Mr Charles we salute you. Will there be a stronger funk bill in the UK this year?  Answers please on a Mosquito’s Tweeter...

Day Three – Sunday July 1^st

Following the recent death of their leader, legendary jazz saxophonist Andy Hamilton, The Bluenotes could’ve been forgiven for pulling out of the festival altogether. Instead they chose to play on in tribute to him and what a tribute it turned out to be. The performance of one of Andy’s favourites songs, Blue Skies, by his vocalist and friend Vic Evans (voice as rich as 20 year old Jamaican rum) was incredibly moving. It’s an old cliché but they really don’t make ‘em like this anymore.

Fresh from doing a fine job standing in for Andy in the Bluenotes Moseley’s very own Steve Ajao played his own set including a lively snatch of Coltrane’s Impressions. 

Day Three was all about showing the diversity of jazz something that Zoe Rahman’s Irish/Bengali fusion and Husk’s experimental 30 minute death jazz opus well and truly demonstrated. Rahman’s a beautiful (in all senses of the word) pianist with a playing style that makes it look all too easy and in her hands the mix of cultures complimented rather than clashed. Husk on the other hand were probably going for the clash in a set that began with the vaguest wisps of trumpet and ended up in full on grrrrrr ROCK territory. For those who like their jazz shaken, stirred and then taken roughly from behind. This is a good thing by the way...without young blood doing something fresh jazz...as with any other genre of music...has no future.

In most bands there’s one musician who really stands out. The Stone Roses have John Squire, The Smiths have Johnny Marr, Jedward have Edward...you get the idea...it’s unusual to find a group with three truly exceptional artists though. The Neil Cowley trio is that rare beast. 

On paper they’re a jazz piano trio (cue visions of chilled out tinkling keyboards in chintzy cocktail bars) in reality they rock out with Cowley nudging close to Jerry Lee territory (playing with such fury that he almost shot off his piano stool), double bassist Rex channelling his inner Hendrix (who knew the double bass could rock so much?) and drummer Evan pounding away like Gene Krupa on speed. Cowley’s an engagingly funny guy too, tossing in the odd witty and self deprecating lines between tracks and reacting amusingly to the let’s just call it ‘exotic’ herbal fragrances floating through the air. A frankly ‘must see’ band on anyone’s list.

Soweto Kinch might well be the coolest dude on the planet. He always looks immaculate seemingly without trying too hard, he plays the sax (the coolest instrument ever...fact) and he’s behind one of the hippest free festivals in the world, The Flyover Show. A fine jazz saxophonist his real USP though is his ability to conjure up rhymes out of thin air, getting the audience to shout out words then incorporating them smoothly into a rap. It’s a party trick he’s done plenty of times before but it never ceases to impress, not even the word serotonin could faze him today. Equally strong were tracks from the new album (The New Emancipation) with I’m The Face’s social commentary reaching the heights of Gil Scott Heron at his finest.

The festival ended with a double bill of true legends. Fred Wesley was an integral player in James Brown’s band throughout the golden years of the 60s and 70s and his trombone funked up the Godfather like a motherfucker. Kicking off with Herbie Hancock’s Chameleon Fred and the New JBs delivered Funk For Your Ass before beginning to introduce A Blow For Me A Toot For You from one of his collaborations with George Clinton. As he was chatting away George crept onto the stage behind him, fingers raised to his lips to keep the audience quiet, then lovingly embraced him from behind. 

The two grandfunkers hugged for a moment or two then Clinton retreated offstage remaining there for much of the rest of Fred’s set as much in awe of the man and his band as the rest of us. Pick of the show...darn that’s a tough one...but Breakin’ Bread (from 1974’s album of the same name) managed to be funny, funky and touching all at the same time. Anything that gets me to sing along has to be pretty awesome.

So then, George Clinton and Parliament/Funkadelic...not so much a band, more a small country populated by cast of crazy characters. Tonight we got the likes of foxy tail girl (in the tightest pair of gold hotpants ever seen on stage...be still my throbbing crotch), chicken head roadmender man and Pinocchio nosed superpimp. At least I think we did. It might have been the cider...nope...the photos prove it. From the opening bars of Flashlight right through the next two hours band and audience were united in da funk. Cut Clinton in half and he’d bleed pure funk. Analyse his DNA and you’d find THREE chromosomes, X, Y and F...all getting down and dirty together. If James Brown was the Godfather, George Clinton’s the FUNKFATHER. Yes, you get the picture he’s still a funky mother. It’s no surprise that samples from Clinton’s music has formed the bedrock for so many other tracks including one of tonight’s highlights (Not Just) Knee Deep which of course spawned De La Soul’s seminal Me, Myself and I for instance. The psychedelic rock trip of Funkadelic’s Maggot Brain (from 1971) was also clearly a huge influence on the whole 70’s rock scene and judging by the looks on everyone’s faces during tonight’s performance it remains just as mesmerising today as it was over 40 years ago. Funk Floyd anyone? How do you top that? Free Your Mind and Your Ass Will Follow sent the crowd wild before One Nation Under a Groove summed up pretty much what the whole weekend had felt like. We Got The Funk was neatly rebooted thanks to rap section (surprisingly it worked), it wasn’t until the last line was delivered that we discovered that the rapper in question was actually George’s grandson! 

Encore, Atomic Dog, saw the traditional end of show mayhem as the band was joined by what looked like everyone from the surrounding 20 miles in one last mass funkathon, George at the heart of it all jumping up and down like man of 20 (incredibly he’s actually 70 now).

Strong contender for festival of the year? Hell, you show me another one with as many beaming faces and shaking asses...

Amadou & Mariam...on the radio

I say, I say, I say...what do you get if you cross Mali’s number one musical husband and wife and 50% of Brooklyn genre shagging behemoths TV On The Radio? This little gem, one of the more convincing blends of, for want of a better word, ‘World’ music and its more Westernised cousin that you’re likely to hear this year. 

Wily Kataso's out on July 9th...or you could just listen to it here...over and over again...for free...ain't the Internet wonderful eh? 

Editors / PEACE / Free School @ HMV Institute, Tuesday 26th June

It seems to have been a bit of a testing time for Editors recently, what with the recent departure of original lead guitarist and keyboardist Chris Urbanowicz (due to that old favourite ‘musical differences') and the seemingly long, slow, painful gestation of the new album (three years and counting). Tonight (and tomorrow) are the only UK dates this year too...hardly a ringing endorsement that all’s well in the band perhaps. So would the evening be an exercise in treading water, a final farewell or a defiant two fingers to the doubters?

First up Free School who’ve got a bit of a Balearic Bladerunner vibe about them...in other words one moment there’s an edgy coldness to their music the next it all goes a bit blissed out and a little ravey. It’s an oddly great mix. Equally odd are their ever so slightly terrifying masks...some kind of sheep type creature. So next time you see a sheep going three flavours of mental at Aya Napa it’s probably listening to Free School (PS: By a freaky coincidence as I wrote this a Free School track came on Lauren Laverne’s 6 Music show...spooky).

Recently signed to Columbia Brum’s next big thing PEACE have already recorded a brace of classic tracks, BBLOOD and Follow Me (both delivered with a cool nonchalance this evening) and if there’s any justice in this world they’ll soon be playing stadiums, humping super models and sniffing coke off Will.i.am’s ball sack. There’s a pleasing hint of grunge meets 80’s jingle jangle pop to their best stuff and Follow Me’s arguably one of the greatest teen anthems since Nervermind (oooohhh that riff’s sexy). They look cool, they sound cool and...bugger me...they are cool.

If PEACE are the new kings of the Birmingham music scene Editors are their spiritual daddies. Formed in the City way back in 2002 they’ve since released a trio of albums notching up the odd million seller or two. Given this history it’s entirely appropriate that they chose to come back here to play their only UK dates of the year, just weeks after losing founder member Chris Urbanowicz. In fact lead singer Tom Smith recently tweeted that these gigs represented something of a rebirth for the band and, from the outset, it was pretty clear that this evening was more than just a case of going through the motions. Smith’s a pretty intense performer and new track Sugar, a brooding 5 minute piece that opened the show, is the perfect vehicle for him. He spent most of it sitting at the piano twitching with nervous energy and flamboyantly throwing out his arms like a man possessed, seemingly conducting some kind of unseen spirit. There’s always been a darkness to Editors music and any lingering thoughts of a radical change in direction on album number four are rapidly squashed from the off (I guess that Editors happy hardcore album will have to wait for another day then).

What followed was a crowd pleasing mix of greatest hits, near misses (Eat Raw Meat = Blood Drool was a revelation tonight...a hidden gem) and fan favourites with a few more newbies thrown in to test the water. It’s surprising just how many Editors tracks had seeped into my head and just how EPIC they sounded tonight. In fact if anything the ‘new’ Editors (I think there’s a pair of ‘em) helped cranked the EPIC up to 11. Bullets, Blood, All Sparks, An End Has A Start...each one stadium rock-tastic.

Unsurprisingly there’s a whole lotta love in the room for the band and a “We’ve missed you!” shout out from the crowd early on is met with an equally heartfelt “We’ve missed you too” from Smith. There’s also a sea of arms raised to the roof for most of the gig, visually reinforcing just how much this band means to the faithful. They save the best for the encore though. On top of an orgasm inducing Munich (well one young lady near me seemed particularly ‘moved’ by it all) they played another new track that tonight might well have seen Tom’s best ever live vocal. Two Hearted Spider’s been around a while I think but it’s yet to get a full studio release. Skeletal guitars, more synths than previous Editors stuff, a big phat drum beat and Tom singing like a dude who’s had his heart ripped out then slowly torn into pieces right in front of him. Ouch. Some singers merely sing but the best ones ‘feel’. This was just such a performance. After the crowd clapped joyfully through Papillion (and a brave few did their best to crowd surf) Tom finally revealed they’d be back next year with their new album...so any lingering fears that these gigs represented their swansong seem to be unfounded. All sparks may well burn out in the end but tonight this one burned brighter than ever...

PS: Photos by kind permission of the lovely Mr Wayne Fox

Moonface - Teary Eyes and Bloody Lips

Moonface "Teary Eyes and Bloody Lips" from Secretly Jag on Vimeo.


Here's a neat little gem from my bulging inbox (which is now so stuffed full of tunes that it's threatening to bring down whole IT systems...whoops...sorry NatWest). With distinct hints of the old Psychedelic Furs Moonface's Teary Eyes and Bloody Lips is one of those tunes that builds and builds, adding new layers as it goes before ending as suddenly as it began. So, a bit like life really...without all the shitty stuff. Actually it's got a bit of an Editors flavour to it too...a band that, by a strange coincidence I'm off to see this evening. I'll give 'em your love...

Getting jazzy with it...

Nearly time for this year’s Mostly Jazz, Funk and SoulFestival (or MoJaFuSo to those in the know) and the good folk behind it all have well and truly excelled themselves this time. Not a duff choice on the bill as far as I can see (and that's rare for any festival) but here are a handful of the best to whet (or given the weather at the moment maybe that should be 'wet') your whistles. Even if you ain't going it's the perfect Friday soundtrack...Odyssey...what a tune! Enjoy...

George Clinton Parliament Funkadelic

Oh come on. The dude IS the funk. As close to a musical god as you’re likely to see here on earth...or in space for that matter. Don’t be surprised if UFO’s pack the skies when he’s on.

Family Stone

Okay, so Sly might be sadly missing in action (living in an RV by all accounts) but the Family Stone are guaranteed to bring da party. And you’re invited...hell yeah!

Introducing presents Endtroducing

In a strange kind of art imitating life sort of way a bunch of musicians perform DJ Shadow's sampledelic classic Endtroducing live. Coming soon, DJ Shadow sampling Introducing playing Endtroducing etc...repeat to fade.

Odyssey

Aaaaaaaaahhhahhhhh...I’m a native New Yorker. ‘Nuff said.

Fred Wesley and the New JB’s

The Godfather of Soul’s backing band during his legendary early 70’s period led by original trombonist Fred Wesley. Brown was well known for being the hardest working man in show business so, despite being dead, he might well turn up and do a couple of numbers...hope he's still got this 'tache.  

Tickets for MoJaFuSo available right here. May be some on the 'door' but don't bank on it...

The Irrepressibles / Noblesse Oblige @ The Rainbow, Wednesday 20th June 2012

Blimey, they’ve really tarted up the backroom of this evening’s venue, The Rainbow. I can remember when it didn't even have a roof, now there's decking, a new paintjob, chic bare brick walls...very posh. It’s entirely appropriate given the fact that on their last visits to Birmingham The Irrepressibles played St Martins Church and The Town Hall, arguably two of the more beautiful venues in the City. Tonight was more of a low key, stripped back performance though. The equivalent, Jamie informed us after the show, of a band playing one of those hip n’cool secret post gig sets that the likes of you and I could never dream of getting in to.

First up Noblesse Oblige, now there’s a decent band name eh? Noblesssssssssse Obligggggggge. Say it out loud. It’s like snogging yourself. Hmmmmmm. Bear with me a minute. Just having a moment. Er...anyway... they’re a Franco German duo (actress Valerie Renay and Sebastian Lee Philipp) with a super cool Euro electro feel. At times Valerie comes off like a cross between Grace Jones and Eartha Kitt, cat like but with a hint of menace...a kitten that’s as likely to bite your face off as it is to nuzzle up and purr gently at you. All of tonight’s tracks were new so I’m relying on my hastily scribbled notes (slightly smudged thanks to my tendency to excitedly dribble cider from time to time) and legendary skill at guessing the names of songs I’ve never heard before. But if set highlights Mata Hari, which had a bit of a tropical feel, and On Your Own, with more of a minimalist Joy Division edge, are any indications of the quality of their new album it’ll be well worth checking out.

Right, on to the main event. The Irrepressibles. A band / concept that I’ve been banging on about for the last couple of years now...and with just cause. Fronted by the hugely talented Jamie McDermott they’ve produced some of the most beautiful music ever made and put on some shows that shame pretty much any other group on the planet. Compared with these events tonight was a distinctly stripped back affair (literally in the case of the two bare-chested drummers), just four people, simple but effective lighting and samplers standing in for the usual budget busting string section. Even so it still felt glamorous somehow, a trademark of all of Jamie’s productions. Billed as the Electro Nude tour the set saw the band revisiting and remixing old tracks as well as unveiling some new stuff, most of which showed a radical change in direction from the lush orchestration of In This Shirt to more of an underground club feel. That’s not the only change though. Who’s the bearded dude fronting the band? It’s Jamie, tonight well and truly rocking the Mad Max meets Max Factor look. It’s a world away from the fragile, somewhat introspective character that he’s previously inhabited. One thing’s still the same though. That voice. That heavenly, heavenly voice. If it was the last thing you heard on the way through the pearly gates you’d die happy (well, relatively happy, I guess that depends on how you ‘go’...being buried alive under a mound of used incontinence pads can’t be a pleasant experience but drowning in a vat of 1811 Chateau d’Yquem...now you’re talking).  

  

The Ghosting Season remix of new single Arrow kicked the show off. It’s a haunting treatment of the song, stark piano, slightly menacing synths and electronic drums only serve to further highlight Jamie’s voice and I couldn’t help feeling like one of the luckiest people on earth to be just a few feet away from it. For real...as they say on the street. New track, I’m Yours (not sure of the title but it could be called that), was pure 80’s pop gold and if the Irrepressibles wanted a stab at chart glory this could well be the one. Picking up a pint Jamie then downed pretty much the whole thing (good man) before singing Machino (again I’m guessing at track names) like an angel. With more of a Japanese feel and some beautiful multi-layered harmonies it was another set highlight, once again showing a different side to the band and possibly hinting at the diversity of their new album, Nude, due out in October. Another newbie, Tears Of A Clown (no, not that one, but equally good) prefaced a remix of The Tide from the band’s previous album, the frankly essential Mirror Mirror. It’s unrecognisable from its original incarnation, transformed from a gentle lullaby into a full on electro club cult classic that gives Anthony’s work with Hercules and Love Affair a run for its money.

After the official single version of Arrow, with memory stirring echoes of Yazoo’s synths in the mix, the encore couldn’t have been a better choice. In This Shirt is arguably The Irrepressibles...hell, music’s finest moment to date and, in keeping with the rest of the show, there was a subtle electro twist here and there. This could have been a dangerous thing to do, messing with perfection, but it actually added a neat freshness to a track that I’ve probably listened to more than anything else over the past couple of years. ABSOLUTE BLISS. And then it was all over...all too soon. Noooooooooo. Come back!!!!! Oh well, they always say you should leave the crowd wanting more. Somehow I can’t imagine I won’t be the only one there tonight who’ll be counting down the days until their next visit...

Win tickets to The Irrepressibles @ The Rainbow Warehouse this Wednesday!

Over 20 years of gig going and half dozen years of reviewing there’s one name that sends me scurrying back to the dictionary for superlatives...only to give up after failing to find the words to describe just how beautiful the music they make really is. Fronted by the hugely talented Jamie McDermott The Irrepressibles are a truly unique proposition, blending music, choreography and art to create something that’s as close to musical heaven on earth as you’re ever likely to hear. Imagine an angel whispering into your ear whilst being gently caressed by a thousand cherubs, well...it's better than that. Oh yes. Having been big in Europe for a number of years now they’re rapidly building a sizeable legion of believers here in the UK and you...yes...you...have the pant wettingly exciting chance to win two tickets to their Birmingham date, this Wednesday at The Rainbow Warehouse, Digbeth.

To be in with a chance of winning just answer the following question. What’s the name of The Irrepressibles new single?  Send your answer and name to thehearingaid@googlemail.com by midday on Wednesday 20^th June. The winner will be drawn out of my magical bowler hat. Bonne chance!

Anyone not lucky enough to win head over here to buy your tickets. Trust me on this one...

PS: Why not make yourself a nice G&T and check out my interview with Jamie from 2010 and my review of their last Birmingham show from 2011? 

The Milk / George Barnett & The Ninth Wave / Phil Gibbs @ Hare & Hounds, Wednesday 13th June 2012

Clambering over the discarded offspring of our glorious Prime Minister (good to know the country’s in safe hands eh?) we arrived just in time for local singer songwriter Phil Gibbs and his band of merry men (and lady...on the keyboard...not literally...that would just be silly). Had the pleasure of seeing Phil for the first time a few months back and he’s got a neat line in summertime feel good songs like tonight’s opening number (and pick of the set) Part Time Lover (no, not that one...a different one). A bit of soul, a bit of reggae, a slice of pop...what’s not to like? A darn sight more cheerful than the freakin’ weather at the moment.

Next up someone I’ve been tipping for big things for a while now George Barnett & The Ninth Wave. Since last catching him back in February he’s released his amazing debut album, 17 Days, been played on 6 music, booked a headlining gig at the legendary Clapham Grand (July 13th, tickets here), filmed and released a video for new single Bewitched and, just this week, he’s been playlisted at Radio One. Not a bad few months work eh? That’s just some of the stuff I know about by the way. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d written a musical, repainted the Sistine Chapel and discovered a cure for cancer too. This dude’s seriously talented with a rare knack for penning catchy, classy pop that embraces influences from everything from The Beatles through to ‘80’s funk and tonight he and the Ninth Wave transformed the Hare & Hounds into a stadium (well it felt like that at times), filling every little nook and cranny with musical loveliness.

It’s not just a performance though, it’s a real show. It’s clear that both George and the band have put some serious thought into how it all comes together. Opening number Lone Rose saw George playing the keyboards like Animal from The Muppets, a furious blur of hair and limbs, before picking up the cowbell and bringing the good times right out into the crowd. I was exhausted just watching it. And this was just the first song. Other highlights included a beautiful acapella ending to Bewitched with George and the band gathered round a mic, stomping feet providing the simple beat. Magical. The set ended all too soon with Apocolade which this evening was just HUGE. Muse huge. Coldplay huge (big shout out to soundman Greg for doing a cracking job this evening by the way). Whilst I’m not a massive fan of Coldplay as a band they do make some truly anthemic tunes. Well, they can step aside now thank you very much. There’s a new gang in town. George Barnett and the Ninth Wave. If they don’t end up playing Apocolade in stadiums I’ll...eat Chris Martin in a bap.

Last up headliners Essex four piece The Milk, self professed ‘new soul rebels’. Dexys were famously searching for just such a thing over 30 years ago, are The Milk the answer to their prayers? Well they’ve certainly got soul and a determination to do whatever they can to get the audience to enjoy themselves “We’re here to make every night like Friday night!” Oh goody, Friday night’s chicken kebab night. Not sure I could eat one everyday though, my waistline’s in enough trouble as it is. The Milk have hit upon the idea that breaks between songs get in the way of the party so it’s pretty much a non-stop set, kicking off with current single Broke Up The Family. It’s an okay song online but oh so much better live. Like fellow Essex boys (possibly their spiritual granddads in fact) Dr Feelgood, The Milk are one of those bands that work so much better onstage, drenched in sweat, getting down and dirty. They’ve been compared to Maroon 5 on more than one occasion and you can hear the similarities but The Milk are a lot edgier. Maroon 5 with bollocks if you like. Less Moves Like Jagger, more Rocks Like Richards. But, like the chart munching Americans they’ve got some instantly catchy numbers, All I Wanted Was Danger, Kimmy Kimmy, Broke Up The Family and My Momma Told Me (think it was called that, a little Jurassic 5 vibe in there...sweet) all hit the spot tonight. A rocking cover of Music Sounds Better With You was followed by an awesome encore skank through Toots’ 54 46 (requested by one particularly enthusiastic fan) before The Milk split. Good times.


Picture of The Milk courtesy of the lovely Mr Richard Shakespeare aka ShakeyPix.

Tonight! The Milk, George Barnett, Phil Gibbs...Daphne & Celeste (I made that last one up...sadly)

Cobblers...meant to flag this gig up a while ago but time seems to be playing tricks on me right now. June already you say? Blimey, how did that happen? The weather doesn't help, keep thinking it's February still.



Anyway, if you're within 100 miles of Birmingham tonight get down to the Hare & Hounds for The Milk, George Barnett and Phil Gibbs. Trust me...am I ever wrong? Well maybe I went a bit overboard with Daphne & Celeste but I still maintain that Ooh Stick You is a misunderstood classic...

Tickets for tonight's gig from our good friends at Birmingham Promoters.

PS: Cop a load at this. Respect due to anyone who stands their ground against this torrent of...well...lord knows what. If this was Kings Of Leon they'd be off if a leaf hit the stage. Bless 'em.

 

The Semi Regular New Music Roundup Thingy

Just a trio of tracks this time, I blame the relentless rain...makes me particularly picky. Grrrrrrr. First up...awwww bless ‘em it’s CocoRosie with another missive from their twisted fairytale world entitled We Are On Fire. Produced by TV On The Radio’s Dave Sitek it’s, to borrow the old reviewers’ cliché, ‘hauntingly beautiful’.

Gil Scott Heron cover anyone? Don’t mind if I do. Step forward Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. Jr. Jr. Jr. Jr. Jr. Jr. Jr. Jr. Jr. Jr. (repeat to fade), with an appropriately impassioned (and rockier) take on  one of St Gil’s lesser known classics.

Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. - We Almost Lost Detroit from Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. on Vimeo.

Last up yet another great track from a Brooklyn band, this time it’s TEEN’s Better. Tribal drums? Check. Slightly drugged up female vocalist? Check? Vintage synths? Check. Handclaps? Check. Play it loud and earn yourself instant hipster points in your office/cell/squat/tower block.

Django Django / NZCA/Lines @ Academy Birmingham, Wednesday 6th June

At the risk of sounding like a little old lady in one of those see thru pink plastic macs (as opposed to just looking like one that is), what the chuff’s up with the weather again? A joke’s a joke and all that but unless we get some sun over here soon we’re all going to go down with a serious case of the rickets. Jeez. Anyway, despite the almost continuous drizzle ‘n’ gloom (hmmm...great name for a band there) there was a decent crowd in tonight in time for opening act NZCA/Lines (hmmm...possibly not such a great name for a band). How the hell are you supposed to pronounce this one? EnZedSeeEhSlashLines? NeZeeSeeAhforwardslashlines? Nzedseeyaslahelines? Whilst it don’t exactly slip off the tongue the band’s (normally one guy, Michael Lovett, but bolstered by a funky bassist and stand up drummer tonight) music’s a pleasingly easy listen, with echoes of prime pop era Scritti Politti in the mix.

One of the few joys about living in 2012 is the vast wealth of music that’s just sitting there waiting for us to gobble it all up. Within seconds we can all access everything from Mongolian throat singing through to experimental death jazz. FOR FREE. Unsurprisingly therefore there are bands out there who’ve presumably been munching away at all this free music since birth, creating some truly genre-less groups. Django Django seem to be one such band. There’s the twangy spaghetti western of WOR, the trippy harmony heavy Waveforms, the Egyptian prog (yes, really) of Skies Over Cairo and the Beta Band meets 60’s beat bands of Default. They’ve yet to perfect the throat singing but hey, it’s early days eh?

There was a decent crowd in tonight for the band’s first Birmingham gig and they got a better than average reception too, possibly bolstered by the hip factor currently buzzing around ‘em. Speaking of buzzing...well chirruping in this case...the gig kicked off with the sound of crickets. This somewhat unusual beginning heralds (yes, heralds, I’ve been listening to Radio 4 again) the start of the mainly instrumental track Introduction. I’m assuming the crickets are all pre recorded and not part of the band. How cool would that be though eh? You could give them all little microphones and miniature bottles of water and a tiny little towel. On second thoughts they’d probably overdo it on the free booze and end up copping off with a cockroach, crickets are notorious for it. I saw one glass a ladybird once...terrible business. Anyway, Introduction is a curious track. It sounds like someone’s dropped the Human League Mk1 in a jungle and if that sounds like an oddly appealing proposition to you then the rest of the set would be right up your street. There’s a bit of everything in there and, whilst the biggest cheers of the night were reserved for the big singles, Storm and Default, pretty much every track had something for everyone. Given the mercurial nature of the music the band’s performance was spot on too with everyone bar the drummer sweatily swapping instruments. There are one or two quirky ones in there as well, including the world’s biggest tambourine (well, almost), some coconut shells and a twangy thing...no idea what it’s really called but ‘twangy thing’ (you bash it and it makes a twangy sound) seems an accurate enough description. If you’re looking for reference points the Beta Band have to be a major influence on the Djangs (I believe that one of the band’s big bros was actually in the Betas) but, to be honest you could pick out anyone from Link Wray to Kraftwerk and no one could disagree. Proof perhaps that pop has finally well and truly eaten itself?

Andy Hamilton R.I.P

Sad news during the weekend about the death of legendary jazz saxophonist Andy Hamilton who played in my home patch of Bearwood every week for a gazillion years. On top of acting as Errol Flynn's musical arranger, promoting gigs in Birmingham (including giving Steel Pulse an early break), setting up a community music group and recovering from a diabetic coma in 1986 he went on to record his first album at the tender young age of 76, making it the biggest selling jazz release of the year. He continued to play and inspire other musicians right up to the end and is no doubt carrying on in that great gig in the sky. RIP.

God Save The Bombergs

Okily dokily, time for one more post before the looooooooooooooooooong weekend (bless you Lizzie). Brums finest The Bombergs unleash this beauty, Soft, at a single launch in The Bulls Head on Sunday 3rd (support from Tom Peel amongst others). It's a cracking tune, harking back to early XTC by way of LCD Soundsystem's Losing My Edge. Play it loud, play it often. Enjoy!

PS: The single's out on Speech Fewapy Records. Long may they reign over us...

Gary Numan / Officers @ HMV Institute, Thursday 31st May 2012

Numan’s career’s seen as many ups and downs as one of his flying displays (he was, by all accounts, one of the best aerobatic pilots around), from slightly scary synthpop pioneer through to, well, slightly scary industrial rock god. Back in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s he fell seriously out of favour and by his own admission made some dodgy albums. Then, as so often happens if you stick around long enough, he started to get the credit he deserved with everyone from Dave Grohl and Jarvis Cocker to (somewhat bizarrely) Kanye West outing themselves as full on Numanoids. Judging by the look of many of the hardcore fans here tonight (an impressive number of whom were sporting t-shirts from the ghosts of tours past) it’s still Numan v1.0 that’s the big draw and given the fact that he’s not hugely fond of looking back this tour’s an all too rare chance to hear all of the classic hits plus some rarely played gems all in one go.

First up though Leeds 4 piece Officers provide the perfect Numan warm up. In fact it would be pretty hard to come up with a better band to get you in the Numan mood. Whilst their musical touchstones include a bit of NIN, Ministry and maybe even a little Einstürzende Neubauten they’re clearly Numan’s children and pick of the set, Co-education, with its “machine, machine” refrain is one of the best blends of synth and rock around right now. The band’s currently raising the profile of a charity called CALM, designed to tackle the rising tide of suicides amongst men under 35, and they were giving away limited edition CDs in exchange for donations. A worthy cause from a band well worth checking out.    

As the NOOOMANNOOOMANNOOOMAN chants built in volume the lights dimmed and, like a visiting deity he appeared dressed all in regulation black. He seems in great shape, a lean, mean rock machine, only the extraordinary hair (some kind of nylon weave?) giving the game away that he’s now in his mid 50’s. Curiously many of tonight’s songs still sound pretty fresh too. Of course he sounded well ahead of his time back in the day, like some kind of bizarre robot beamed back from the future to scare the bejesus out of young children watching Top Of The Pops. Those early hits paved the way for the whole synthpop scene (Soft Cell, Human League, Heaven 17, Depeche Mode and co) before he moved in a rockier direction, again opening things up for the likes of Nine Inch Nails. As you’d expect given it formed most of his career tonight was overwhelmingly rocky from the broodingly brilliant Berserker through to the more industrial sounding stuff like RIP (albeit with a surprisingly funky sounding bassline this evening).

Frequently anointing himself with water throughout the gig there’s something slightly messianic about the performance, with Numan himself even pulling the odd arms outstretched crucifixion pose. Given the adoration of his fans it wouldn’t take a huge leap to imagine some kind of Numanic religion springing up a la L Ron Hubbard, despite Gary’s avowed atheism.

Showing that the tin man has a heart Numan was joined by Russell Bell and Chris Payne part way through the set (members of his old backing band Dramatis) to play a moving version of Love Needs No Disguise in tribute to fellow band member Cedric Sharpley who died back in March. It was great to hear some violin in the mix, adding a more human touch to what was clearly an emotional track for them to play.

The distinctly Japan sounding Warriors (from 83’s album of the same name) hinted at the era we were heading back to for the latter part of the set and, for the more casual Numan fan, this was where the nuggets lay. I Die You Die saw Numan wreathed in stark monochromatic lighting with an old school TDK 90 Tape unravelling behind him. Tape, that’s one thing from the ‘80s that can well and truly stay there. Ugh! The hours we spent trying to respool several hundred feet of tape using a pencil. The swirling synths of We Are Glass still sound like they’ve been beamed back from the 22^nd century, a feeling aided as ever by Numan’s distinctive half man, half machine vocals.

Teasing the crowd with a pounding run through 2007’s Healing (showing the industrialists that Numan can still cut it) the encore and gig ended with the big crowd pleasers and whether you’re a Numanoid or not it’s impossible to deny the power of a souped up Cars (sounding much rockier than in its original in-car-nation). Despite throwing himself around for the best part of two hours Numan’s still had some mileage left in the tank and it’s a lively performance, distinctly at odds from the days when he just stood and glared at you from behind a keyboard.

In 2012 the idea behind Are Friends Electric? (tonight benefitting from a pleasingly different piano driven reboot) is arguably so much more relevant than it was 30 odd years ago. With millions of people finding it easier to connect with the world through a screen and an increasing number of us zombified by our mobiles (hell, some people seemed to watch the whole gig through the screen of their shitty phones) this hymn to alienation could’ve been written last week. “You see this means everything to me” sang Numan, his arms sweeping out in front of him to the audience and a gentle smile playing across his face. For the hundreds of fans still chanting NOOOMAN as he left this stage the feeling’s clearly mutual. 

Public Service Broadcasting - Spitfire

Okay, been meaning to post this for a few weeks now but better late than never eh? Sampling Leslie Howard from the classic war movie The First Of The Few it's a (oddly enough given the samples) Krautrock-ish track that...erm...invades its way into your brain and refuses to leave.

It's taken from the band's brand new EP, The War Room, a mash up of instrumentals and spoken word stuff culled from the BFI's National Archive. It's all rather moving and atmospheric, a strange combination of clipped vowels and dreamy music that someone seems entirely appropriate given the distinctly retro vibe being created by the Jubilee and Olympics right now...isn't all that torch business just wonderfully, eccentrically old school British eh?

King Charles / Beta Blocker and the Body Clock / King of Cats @ O2 Academy, Monday 28th May

Nope, the Queen hasn’t gone to that great walk about in the sky leaving her eldest in charge (lord help us), this particular King Charles has bugger all to do with the Windsor lot. He looks the part though, far more than any member of our royal family has for...ooooh...the odd century or four. With enough hair to make several thousand merkins and a suitably raffish moustache he cuts a dashing figure, part Pirates of the Caribbean, part Barbara Cartland’s wet dream. King Charles the pop star men want to be and women want to...ahem...be with.

Kicking off the evening though (kicking off being a pretty appropriate description in fact) in the sweltering heat (boy it was hot in there) was King of Cats, a one man tornado of rage and hurt...with a bit of a comedy twist...I think (you can never be sure in this post-irony world). Short in stature and high in voice he’s a lo-fi meltdown wandering the tightrope of despair and frequently falling off, only to grab back on and haul himself up at the last minute. You’ll either love him or hate him, there’s no half way house here and for some his toddler tantrum vocals could be as excruciating as nails down a blackboard. I rather liked him. Cult-dom surely (and deservedly) beckons...

Less divisive, Beta Blocker and the Body Clock (one man, one drummer) trawl a similar street as San Fran’s indie rock icons Girls. Clearly the temperature (by this stage it was so ‘hott in here’ Nelly was seen wandering naked by the bar...one for the grandparents) wasn’t helping the band’s woozy fuzz pop sounds connect with the crowd.  

Happily someone had found the on switch for the air conditioning by the time King Charles came on stage. A good job too. Dressed to thrill all in white, shirt unbuttoned to reveal little kiss curls of chest hair (steady ladies) you half expect him to go straight into an impersonation of Rik Mayall’s Lord Flashheart. Woof! Channelling his inner Hendrix (not for the first time this evening there was a bit of Jimi in there) Mr Flick - a bold mix of folk, rock and rap - opened up the set and, despite not featuring on the King’s debut album, Love Blood, it’s arguably the best example of ‘Glam Folk’, a term that he’s used to describe his particular sound. The crowd loved it and it’s not hard to see why. There’s a sad lack of real characters in music these days and if nothing else KC brings a splash of old skool glamour back to a world that’s become increasingly safe and bland. In fact you’d probably have to go back to the glory days of Adam Ant (surely a shoe in for Charles’ spiritual granddad?) to see someone who clearly cares so much about the ‘look’.

All image and no tunes would still make Charlie a dull boy though. Fortunately he’s got plenty stuffed down his codpiece, from the impossibly jaunty Mississippi Isabel (Regina Spector meets Vampire Weekend) to the distinctly Adam Ant-ish Polar Bear. The crowd lapped it all up, this blend of folk, rock and white boy afrobeat, clapping and singing along with an impressive degree of enthusiasm for a distinctly sweaty Monday night in Birmingham. In fact it’s a measure of how much the fans have clutched the King to their bosoms that so many people seemed to know all the words, a mere three weeks after the album came out (although many tracks have been floating about the interweb in one form or another for a while). Despite sweating buckets he gave back the love, playing most of the album’s songs over an hour or so and bravely leaping about as well as unsteadily mounting the keyboard at one point. When the stages grow in size with the audience I imagine we’ll see him do more of this kind of stuff, swinging from chandeliers, sliding down banisters, leaping from speaker to speaker with a rose between his teeth...that kind of thing. Just me? Oh. Okay.

The inevitable encore was preceded by rousing chants of “We love Charles” and he reappeared for a solo run though Love Is The Cure. Any female hearts that remained frozen were well and truly melted. The band (featuring a bassist wearing a cravat...nice touch dude) rejoined his majesty for Ivory Road (“you’re the wax in my moustache”...I hear ya there brother) and finally a clever rebooting of Billy Joel’s classic We Didn’t Start The Fire, proof that he’s just as concerned with social matters as he is with those of the heart. Well, kind of.

Despite the fact that at least 50% of the audience were just a security barrier away from tearing the clothes off his back he came amongst his subjects after the show, posing for photos, signing whatever was put in front of him (no breasts sadly...tut tut...young people today) and chatting with a lengthy queue of fans...some of whom (mainly the ladies...freaky) were sporting a range of stick on taches (£2 from the merch desk).

Good looks, good tunes and good times. There’s a new king of pop and you’d (wait for it...pun warning ahoy) have to be right Charlie to miss out.

Florrie-P

Future pop princess Florrie releases the latest in her series of EP's (Late) on May 31st and it's the usual high quality mix that we've come to expect from the former Xenomania house band drummer and model...a drummer and a model...yep...hubba hubba. After a protracted mating dance she's recently signed to a 'major label' too so expect HUGE things in the coming year or two.

Meanwhile latecomers to the Florrie party can also get stuck in to this little beauty...



...oh and this one too...

Louis Barabbas & the Bedlam Six / Alabaster de Plume @ Hare & Hounds, Thursday 24th May

There’s an art to putting on lipstick. Arguably taping it to your guitar and trying to apply it WHILST playing isn’t usually the best technique. But then again the chap doing it (yes, I said chap), Mr Louis Barabbas, isn’t your usual musician either...

First up tonight though a word or two about the splendidly named support act Alabaster de Plume, part poet, part singer songwriter and part semi-detached observer of the human race.  Imagine if Morrissey, Kenneth Williams and Dylan Thomas had a kid together (tricky I’ll grant you, but pretty much everything’s possible these days), I reckon the resulting wonderful human being would be de Plume. “I imagined one day that an image of the Queen was talking to me” he explained, staring into space before launching into I’m The Queen, a gloriously unhinged trawl through her Majesty’s inner thoughts. Stuff Gary Barlow’s track, make this the official Jubilee anthem. Brilliant.

Until recently tonight’s headliner Louis Barabbas sported the finest beard in music. Fact. He’d been growing it for two long years but then he hacked it all off for the video to his band’s latest release Deep Enough.



Powerful stuff eh? Amazingly enough this was actually the intention when he started growing it, which demonstrates the kind of forward planning that would put most bands (and economists for that matter) to shame. There’s more to the man – and band – than the beard though, mighty as it was. Some artists wander on and do their thing, some really get into it and one or two edge dangerously close to expiring right there in front of us. Louis belongs firmly in the last category, throwing himself around (and off) the stage, flinging his legs in the air like a showgirl on speed and neatly rearranging several vertebrae in the process.  Ouch. Highkicking things off with Mother, which wouldn’t sound out of place in Lionel Bart’s Oliver!, Barabbas bounds around the place, his face alive with a million and one expressions. It was pretty warm in here tonight and a lesser man may well have knocked it back a gear or two but you know what, I just don’t reckon he has it in him to give less than 100%. “This is a song about murdering your wife...” he explained with more than a little gleam in his eye before launching into a surprisingly upbeat number. In fact several of tonight’s best songs seemed to focus on the sticky subject of love and, on top of the anthem to spousicide already mentioned, we got “this is a song about being married too long” (Thick Carpets, Old Lifts) and “this is a song about being cheated on by a girl” (Mary) too. Maybe it’s his way with the lippie that doesn’t go down too well with the ladies? In fact by the end of the set a good 80% of his face was smeared with what looked like the entire contents of a Boots make-up counter, a bloody red mask...perhaps in place of that missing beard eh?

It’s tricky to categorise the precise musical style of the band (it’s unlikely that they know themselves) but they’ve been described as ‘dirt-swing’, whatever the heck that means. It’s theatrical, a little rocky, a little folky, a little punky, a little New Orleans jazz...shades of the great Sensational Alex Harvey Band in places maybe? Tom Waits jamming with Gogol Bordello? A music lesson in a Victorian asylum for the criminally insane? Other than that I’m struggling to come up with any comparisons and in this day and age that’s all too rare.

There was some first class banter too, particularly between Louis and the drummer, culminating in some kind of a cat fucking challenge. Rumours that Louis was later to be found wandering the back streets of Kings Heath looking for a suitable partner were still unconfirmed at the time of writing.  A Barrab-astounding performance all round. 

The Semi Regular New Music Roundup Thingy

Remember Neneh Cherry? Chances are if you’re under 30 probably not. No matter. She was an in yer face bundle of rapitude and, happily, quarter of a century later she ain’t lost that spirit. Covering a Madvillain/MF Doom track against a bit of a free jazz background isn’t likely to guarantee a smash hit but I rate this...big time. The new album The Cherry Thing is out on June 18^th on Smalltown Supersound. Niiiiice.

This couldn’t be more ‘80’s if you glued it to a DeLorean with bits of melted down Rubik’s Cubes. Age Of Consent’s Heartbreak wears its influences proudly, the Mode, Pet Shop Boys, Soft Cell...it’s all in there. Ahhhhh...makes me feel young again...well youngish.

Regular readers will know all about my man crush on Norway’s Team Me. Their latest single only goes to reinforce it...ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...blissful.

Sooooo...electro and rockabilly hook up in a low rent motel and do the nasty...9 months later out pops Drop The Lime. It’s a weird mix but, ya know, I kinda like weird.

Last up for this edition of everyone's favourite New Music Roundup Thingy, Manchester soul sista Lauren Housley debuting tracks from her forthcoming debut EP One Step Closer. Lovin’ the lush strings n’soul of See My Baby Cry...

Louis Barabbas & The Bedlam Six go deeeeeep

There have been some memorable videos over the years, Jackson's Thriller, Gabriel's Sledgehammer, Fat Boy's  Praise You but I'd like to add another one to the list...Louis Barabbas & The Bedlam Six's latest. I won't spoil it, just watch...

You can catch the band touring the UK from May 24th where the tour kicks off at the Hare (maybe that should be Hairy) & Hounds. Tickets here. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.

Pond / Swim Deep / Carpels DJ set @ The Hare & Hounds, Sunday 20th May 2012

Great rock band names...Black Sabbath! Iron Maiden! Hawkwind! Def Leopard! Metallica! Motorhead! You know what you’re in for just by the name eh? ROCCCCKKKKK! Call yourself Pond though and you could be a fey folk band with a penchant for songs about Maypoles and a hey nonny no. Any ill informed folk fans who may have stumbled in to this gig expecting a gentle rendition of All Around My Hat though may well now be undergoing counselling...

Before all that, a question - is it too soon for a 90’s revival? Seemingly not given Swim Deep’s edgy rebooting of the late 80’s early 90’s scene that spawned the likes of Ride, The Mock Turtles and The Soup Dragons. Ahhhhh, happy days. Yeah, I’m old, get over it. The clothing offers further clues, a Nirvana t-shirt, a Wayne’s World baseball cap and, beneath it, the kind of floppy haircut seldom seen since the days of Melody Maker. In the intervening months between the last time I caught them live they seemed to have beefed up the sound a little more, adding a slightly grungier to some distinctly Joy Division-ish drumming and bass guitar. They’re more than just the sum of their parts though and the fact that recent single King City already feels like one of this year’s key indie tracks is a promising sign. Ones to watch.    

Like a slightly spaced out pied piper Nick Allbrook, Pond’s youthful (the dude looks about 13) singer, guitarist, keyboard player and...suitably enough given the pied piper reference – flautist, climbs down from the stage and gently draws the crowd forward closer to the stage and then...BAM! Where the hell did that come from? It’s like the gods of rock descending down from above as the band explodes into one heavy psych mind fuck after another. Bowel rupturing bass lines, trippy moog keyboards and motorik drumming come together in perfect harmony, all that’s missing is the psychedelic light show and generously proportioned bare breasted lady.  

Featuring three members of Aussie psych rock legends Tame Impala Pond were one of the big hits at this year’s SXSW festival and it’s not hard to see why. Twisting and twitching, speaking in tongues,  eyes rolling to the back of his head, lying prone on the stage, back arching to the heavens like he’s trying to roger the ceiling, lead singer Nick literally seems possessed by some kind of unholy spirit,...hell, if you’re gonna rock out, go for it eh? All around him the rest of the band lays down some of the heaviest shit this side of Hawkwind’s spaceship.  From opening number, the broodingly dirgetastic Zanman through to the encore, a sweat drenched sprint through the MC5’s Kick Out The Jams, Pond literally rocked the place to its foundations, ripping tracks from their critically acclaimed current album Beard, Wives, Denim, including an incendiary Fantastic Explosions Of Time. KABOOOM!!!!

As is traditional for any rock band visiting Birmingham (I think it might even be in their contracts) it wasn’t long before they were asking if Black Sabbath came from here?  Met with a resounding “YESSSSSSS!” from the crowd they launched into a brief snatch of War Pigs. Incredibly it’s not part of their set yet (although they revisited it again later on whilst a guitar string...quite possibly melted by the sheer power of the ROCK...was being replaced). Trust me they’d be all over this track like a motherhumper. Nick was keen to pay his own unique tribute to Brum’s finest though, “Ozzy Osbourne ate crack for breakfast for 50 year and he still sings better than all of us...now that’s talent!”.  Okay, so Pond might not sprinkle narcotics on their bran flakes but on the strength of this frankly mind blowing performance they’re clearly on a different planet to the rest of us. Wherever the hell that is, it’s well worth a visit. 

Friday Favourites

In the first of a brand new feature that will probably last as long as the rest of 'em here's a pair of new tracks currently rocking Baron Towers. First up, they might look like they belong behind an IT Helpdesk, but Hot Chip constantly produce some of the jolliest dance stuff around. Their latest, Night and Day, is simply an electro disco geek classic. So there.



I lurrrrrved the Friends gig last weekend and they've just released the video for their latest slice of Brooklyn cool, Mind Control. Hubba.



Happy freakin' Friday!

PS: Oh, by the way, if you're in or around Brum on Sunday night check out Pond at the Hairy Hounds...awesome...tickets from our chums at Birmingham Promoters.