1,327 FRANK TURNER “WORLD RECORD ATTEMPT”, Southampton The Brook, Sunday 5th May 2024 lunchtime

 

That Frank Turner’s a bit bleedin’ crazy at times, you know… Frank, a fixture of course of mine and Logan’s gig calendars since our admittedly late (2014) discovery of his celebratory and inclusive folk/punk anthems of punk-spirited empowerment and self-validation, announced plans to mark the release of his 10^th (!) solo album, “Undefeated” by playing 15 gigs in 15 different UK towns and cities… in the space of 24 hours! All gigs organised by local independent record stores, Frank planned to start Saturday lunchtime in Liverpool, going through the night from town to town by e-taxi and ending up with a Sunday lunchtime gig in Southampton, which would represent a New World Record of 15 shows in 24 hours, smashing the Flaming Lips’ former mark of 10. I found about this crazy scheme on a 40-minute old facebook post by the man himself, and immediately jumped on tix for the nearest show to the ‘Don, namely 10.30 a.m. in Frank’s hometown of Winchester. However that had unsurprisingly sold out in a shot, so we settled for the final, Sunday midday show in Southampton instead, which would actually afford us the opportunity to welcome him across the finish line, as it were…

I therefore needed to rouse Logan from his Sunday morning slumber to get up and go to a gig! We set off at ¼ to 10 for a sunny drive down the M4/ A34, running into Ben Sydes and Evie at Sutton Scotney services, then also at the venue itself, after we’d parked up a local side street and entered the already-rammed venue at 11.15 a.m. Enjoyed some rock chat and got introduced to Ben’s mate, a Southsea guy I’m pretty sure we’ve seen at plenty of Frank/ Gaz/ Ben gigs before, and who had been to the previous 2 shows earlier this morning. This of course gave light to a debate as to whether there had been folks mad enough to go to all 15 – the answer subsequently being yes, Frank pointing out said utter headcases during the set…!

Frank’s support team (who’d been travelling with him throughout) set up a couple of guitars on the stage, then at 12 prompt, the man took the stage himself to a disproportionately loud ovation, arms outstretched in triumph, basking in the adulation of the crowd and feeding off its’ energy to augment his own reserves for one final push to the summit. Bolting on one of the equally road-weary acoustics, he deadpanned, “my name’s Frank Turner; welcome to my midlife crisis! I’ve got 29 minutes on my timer, so let’s get on with it…” before launching into a biliously angry, punk rock “No Thank You For The Music”, the hook already roared back by the crowd, then a galloping “Girl From The Record Shop”, bringing back Freshies Manchester Virgin Megastore memories to this old new waver. He looked frankly knackered, red of face and with eyes like pissholes in the snow, but this evident tiredness didn’t seem to carry through to his voice, which was as overt and passionate a roar as ever. Leaving it all onstage on this last show, indeed!

Frank shared a story of a teenage punk pen pal who’d (very) recently gotten back in touch before the melancholy newie “Letters”; then the stream-of-consciousness gabbling verse of “Never Mind The Back Problems” (about, “being punk at 42!” Try 58, mate…!) was preceded by a story of his first ever gig – a punk show at the excellent Southampton Joiners in 1995! “Undefeated” again saw him pouring heart and soul into the performance, before a couple of well-chosen and raucously sung along oldies in “Recovery” and “I Still Believe”, Frank, understandably taking a couple of opportunities to rest the voice and let the crowd carry the hook on this latter number.

But this of course wasn’t about Frank’s performance itself, more about the achievement; we were witness to a New World Record for “live” performances, and crazy idea notwithstanding (Frank constantly making reference to that, and his t-shirt which read “Whose Stupid Idea Was This Anyway?”), said record couldn’t have fallen to a more hard-working and deserving musician and individual. Particularly given that, before set closer “Do One”, Frank highlighted the point that all 15 shows in the last 24 hours had been put on by independent record stores, delivering a sermon to, “keep small indie venues alive,” before one final singalong and a deafening roar at its’ conclusion. Frank then took a deserved bow and announced, “I’m now going home to sleep!” Fair enough really…

Bade farewell to Ben and Evie before slow egress out of the packed venue still got us home for 2 p.m. Felt weird coming home from a gig in the early afternoon, but no worries… Congrats Frank, you crazy guy!

1,326 ANNIE DRESSNER, Ed Blunt, Thieves, Trowbridge Village Pump at the Lamb Inn, Friday 3rd May 2024

 

Second night of my two-in-two’er, and this couldn’t be more different to last night’s sweaty sonic overload… The esteemed Matthew Caws, leader of course of The Greatest Band On The Planet, Nada Surf, posted a video of his friend Annie Dressner’s new song “I Should Have Seen It Coming”, in which he featured, having a ball thrown at him! Intrigued by this and the irresistible US alt-college pop groove of the song, I picked up its’ parent album, “I Thought It Would Be Easier” which, despite (or maybe because of) being considerably more understated than the outlier track “Coming”, is a beguiling work of quiet self-introspection, mixing elements of 70’s Laurel Canyon folk, alt-country and, yes, 90’s Blake Babies-esque college pop, and capped by a singular voice; high register, curling up at the edges, and both innocent and world-weary sounding in equal measure, evoking (for me at least) the likes of Mary Lorson, Margot Timmins and even Suzanna Hoffs. I just missed grabbing tix for Annie’s recent Purley gig but was happy to pounce on this one. A gig in Trowbridge? First time since those 90’s “Psychic Pig” days…

I parked up in the last spot in the Lamb Inn car park after a meander down the winding roads of Wiltshire, some 20 minutes before doors. A bit puzzled on entry to the pub as there was no actual indication that a gig was going on! I eventually discovered the venue was a high roofed outhouse barn, which with a seated balcony increased the capacity to, ooh, a couple of dozen… I took a set around one of the 4 bistro tables filling the ground floor, noting the plethora of old brass instruments, violins and equine equipment adorning the whitewashed walls, and of course the ubiquitous green water pump, house left. Quite the oddest gig venue I’ve been to for some time; plus, at 58, I seemed to be about the youngest of the dozen or so early comers! A serious contrast from last night; I don’t think I’ll be working up a moshpit sweat tonight…

Local lot Thieves (well, 3 of the usual 4 – apparently the 4^th member was “stolen…!”), on at 8 p.m., played a mix of originals and covers in a very trad C&W/ folk “woke up this morning” vein. Entirely competent at what they do, but not my cup of murky cider with bits floating in it. Their most memorable point was that the blond mandolin player’s fast one-note strumming reminded me of the “Out Of Town” theme tune, a 70’s country life TV programme I used to watch as a kid with my dad. Which was a nice memory, I guess… I got my hoody from the car as the barn was a bit chilly (t’was the other way around last night!), then main support Ed Blunt, a personable young chap and dead ringer for my work IT guy Joe, played a short set kicking off with an old-fashioned late night torch music keyboard number “Over The Moon”, before some more folk-oriented contemplative low key numbers on the guitar. For his last number, “Such A Shitshow”, Ed invited Annie onstage for a diverting duet, which was a nice way to end a pleasant enough set – better than the openers, anyway... 

Annie eventually plugged in for 9.20, warning us, “if you’re going to the bathroom, be aware there’s someone really scary in the way”, referring to a local apparently throwing his weight around… a little distracted, she nonetheless took to her task with chatty, affable ease and no little amount of talent; a solo alt-countrified “Nyack” was followed by Ed joining her onstage to provide backing keys to the delicate melancholy of “Black And White” and the world-weary and somewhat ironic “Do You Want To Start A Fight” (“I should have asked the guy outside…!”), then the Cowboy Junkies hush of “Kentucky” was preceded by a story of Annie rolling down a hill during her brief visit to the eponymous state! “Warning Sign”, co-written by David Ford, needed a restart as a siren distracted Annie midway through (apparently police had turned up to apprehend the bolshy local!), but she was back on form with a lovely “Leather Chair”, about visiting her grandmother who lived near the Empire State Building. A more upbeat “Big Grey Couch” led into some audience participation for the stream-of consciousness acerbic betrayal song “18 Years”; then Annie explained the concept for the video for set closer “I Should Have Seen It Coming” (“50 people having things thrown at them – Ed almost got hit by a brick!”) before a racey drum-loop augmented run through of this, my favourite of the set. 

After a final encore, Annie manned the merch and I got to compliment and chat about Mr. Caws with a gregarious and grateful singer, before hitting the road for an equally meandering drive home after an enjoyable if lower key evening of musical entertainment. Thanks Annie, and thanks Matthew for the tip!

1,325 OCTOBER DRIFT, Snake Eyes, Southampton Joiner's Arms, Thursday 2nd May 2024

 

A hectic 7-gig (currently, who knows?) May kicks off with a two-in-two’er, the first leg being a midweek jaunt down to the South Coast to see October Drift, Taunton’s finest purveyors of dynamic and dramatic grunge/ shoegaze wall-of-noise collision, and rapidly becoming one of the highlights of any gigging year due to a slew of incendiary “live” performances, hopefully set to continue tonight. This current tour, ending tonight, did pass closer to the ‘Don, particularly last Tuesday in Oxford, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to see one of my increasingly favourite “live” bands in probably my favourite venue, The Joiners positively reeking of scuzzy rock’n’roll tradition. Like old 90’s/00’s “live” favourites Seafood at this very venue (gigs 450 and 706), this should be a match made in indie rock heaven. Let’s see…

A happily unencumbered blast down the M4/A34 got me parking up just after doors; since my last visit, a proliferation of double yellows have appeared in my usual street parking spots, but there’s a car park round the corner, so I can’t really complain… grabbed an easy spot near the front, house right and watched the place slowly fill around me, before support, Brighton 3-piece Snake Eyes, bounded onstage stage at 8.15 to the “Wallace and Gromit” theme tune! They set their stall out pretty much immediately with opener “Happy Pills”, a raw 70’s NYC Stooges punk stomper recalling The Subways or my mate Rich Carter’s short-lived band My Social Decline, continuing to tick boxes for me with a racier “40 Winks”, and the slow-burn languid laze-grunge of “Scuttlebug”, one of those numbers which, if you played it on record, would fool you into thinking it was on the wrong speed! The 70’s punk anti-billionaires protest of “No Cars” saw vocalist Jim leap into the crowd for his vocals, and after the drummer gave a shout out to several worthy causes (trans rights and Greenpeace amongst them), “No One Is Truly Cool” was dedicated to Wolf Alice’s bassist for allegedly being a bit of a dick to the band at Reading 2021! A raw-boned and hard-rocking set played with determination and dynamism was capped with the penultimate best-of-set “Wishbone”, a frantic thrash recalling Adorable’s “Favourite Fallen Idol”. Decent start! 

A quick trip back to the car to dump my hoody, then a merch-stand chat with SE vocalist Jim, getting the full skinny on the Wolf Alice incident (nosy git!), before getting my spot back. About ¾ full, this, which I guess is a decent turnout for a Thursday, but this band absolutely deserve much, much more! The witching hour approached, and a lone mic-stand was set up in the middle of the floor, then sure enough, the lights went dark and vocalist/ guitarist Kiron Roy emerged from the back of the venue, delivering a mournful solo “Ever After”, with the band, unseen, taking the stage and filling in during its’ denouement. Then Kiron joined them onstage for the launch into a soaring, tremendous “Lost Without You” and we were away… 

There’s a case to be argued for October Drift to be just about the most incendiary “live” band around right now, certainly a band whose intense “live” performances elevate their already-bloody-ace-actually huge-chorused shimmering grungy shoegaze material to seismic, earth-shaking new heights. And the movement? I’ve not seen a band consistently deliver such ferociously kinetic, all-action performances since the heady 00’s days of Seafood and The Gravel Pit, even…! The angular backbeat and trademark stratospheric hook of “Losing My Touch” saw the first of many forays by the vocalist back into the crowd, then “Don’t Give Me Hope” was a widescreen wallowing mood changer before a couple of newies, the Bunnymen-esque atmospherics of “Hollow” and the dramatic ascending verse of an utterly tremendous “Blame The Young”. Kiron (who throughout urged the crowd to come closer, get more involved) played conductor to the audience call-and-response “don’t think I’m coming back” hook of “Waltzer”; “Airborne Panic Attack” was all seething power and drama; and set closer “Oh The Silence” again saw Kiron in the middle of the mosh, as I abandoned my front row spot and moshed with him! 

Drummer Chris Holmes then took a vote (“lets do this like we’re at school”) for the encore, he and Kiron delivering the winning “Like The Snow We Fall” a-cappella in the round, surrounded by the devoted singing along reverentially to the hook. A beautiful, heart-tugging moment to end another quite startling gig from this special band. Brief chats with the band members, who seemed to remember me from recent gigs which was nice, then I sweatily hit the road for a return to the ‘Don just after midnight. They’re back on tour in the Autumn, and on this form, that’s also one not to be missed!

1,324 BEARS IN TREES, The Happy Fits, Lexie Carroll, Bristol Fleece, Monday 29th April 2024

 

Bears In Trees, Jami’s favourite “Dirtbag Boyband”, announced their biggest UK tour in support of their sophomore, independently released album “How To Build An Ocean: Instructions”, including a Monday night date at Bristol’s Fleece, so despite this being on a school night, we booked tix for a daddy/ daughter gig! BiT had of course provided Jami with a serious “holy shit!” gig moment in Portsmouth last time out (gig 1,230), as guitarist Nick and keyboardist Callum had emerged from backstage to return her BiT art piece, fully signed; nothing like that in the offing tonight, but this should still be a good ‘un!

 So we hit the road before 6, listening to “Ocean” on the way, then joining a winding queue 20 minutes before doors, Jami chatting to fellow fans before we got in and bagged a barrier spot, albeit extreme house right. A sell-out, this, and very young and largely female/ LGBTQIA+-savvy crowd (many accompanied, like J, by slightly bemused parents!) were in enthusiastic fettle for opener Lexie Carroll, on at an early 7.20. A similarly young solo singer/ guitarist, backed up by those dreaded backing tape loops and beats, her set featured a couple of decent tracks in the chunky 90’s US alt-college pop feel of “Laundry Detergent” and the bouncier indie pop of “Never Made It To Glasgow” amongst some moodier, more dreampop-orientated pieces, all delivered in a fey, high and lilting voice (not unlike Beabadoobee, according to J) and lapped up by this young crowd. Despite my aversion to the backing tapes, I found myself tapping a toe along… 

Next up were main support, New Jersey’s The Happy Fits, dead on at 8; led by Calvin Langman, a big-haired and seriously buff vocalist/ cellist (there’s a phrase I don’t use often!), I initially struggled with their scattergun, overly beat-driven and terrace chant shouty set, which veered from Summery but throwaway Britpop to oompah carnival marches (!), and Langman himself coming over slightly patronising (“we’ve come from America!”). However, after a speech from the singer channelling the LGBTQIA+ element of the crowd, the subsequent “Little One” (introduced as “a song for my future kid”) was tremendous, a huge-chorused slice of bright chugging Redd Kross powerpop, and after that I seriously warmed to them. “Mary”’s glam rhythm recalled Chicory Tip, “Heart Of A Dancer” was a frantic galloping piece of NYC 70’s punk rock with Langman asking everyone to kneel down then jump up at the climax (not for me!), and after the singer fielded a question about how much he could bench (his bandmate retorting, “I’m pretty sure he lifted the tour bus!”), the change-of-pace hurtle and scat vocals of “Too Late” rounded off an overall set of two halves, albeit one constantly delivered with kinetic enthusiasm and gusto by a determined new band.

Jami and I took turns to squeeze through the packed crowd for quick loo breaks, but were back in situ for Bears In Trees, bounding onstage to a drumroll at 9.20 following a fiddly soundcheck. And they were straight into galloping, gabbling newie “Things That Look Like Mistakes”, the place, predictably, going utterly postal, the devoted audience already singing along to every word with unbridled joy. An early “Cassiopeia” was a slow/fast upbeat indie banger, with livewire bassist/ co-vocalist Ian, resplendent in facepaint and flowing old lady skirt, declaring at its conclusion, “we’ve released a new album and we did it totally independently!” thanking the BiT community for their support and underlining, as before, the close connection between band and crowd. 

Musically, Bears In Trees play upbeat buoyant TMBG/ C86-inflected jangle pop with occasional hints of harder-edged US alt-emo (early Del Amitri meets The Front Bottoms, maybe?), overlaid with overly wordy lyricism on themes of self-reflection and making sense of growing up in this messed up world. However, “live”, tonight felt less of a gig, and more of a tribal gathering, a safe haven for the kooks, the odd ones, the slightly out of place ones to identify with and celebrate their differentness. In that sense, it’s not unlike punk rock... “Permanence” (preceded by Ian's story of BiT’s last Bristol trip, the Thekla gig that I missed, during which he split his head open on the low-hanging stage amps!) underlined this, a slow burn voyage of self-discovery with a telling lyric of “I wish this came with instructions”; co-vocalist Callum broke out the ukulele for the stupidly jaunty “Mossy Cobblestones”; and “I Don't Wanna Be Angry” was a set highlight and the best of the new material, a cathartic and soaring banger with building verses. Before set closer, the grungy denouement of “We Don't Speak Anymore”, Ian urged everyone to look around at each other, stating “we're in this together”, again channelling the atmosphere of celebratory community.

Encores of a stop-start (due to a punter fainting but quickly recovering) “Apathy Is Boring” and the clipped Orange Juice jangle of “Heaven Sent Is A Coffee Cup” (during which Callum went walkabouts in the crowd, ending up in the viewing box at the back of the venue!) rounded off a fine set again played with effervescence and dynamism. We were then happily handed a list before clearing off early (school night after all!) for a quick hammer home. Fine gig; Jami loved it, which was the important thing, but in all honesty I thoroughly enjoyed it too. Nice one chaps!