Aah, the Hold Steady... subject of many and varied musical disagreements between Rachel and myself. Having only picked up on them a month ago, I checked out their MySpace, picked up the CD, and found some joyful anthemic driving rock, in a Buffalo Tom meets Replacements style, with the deep voice of a Bob Mould-alike on vocals. Rachel, however, just heard the slightly countrified lilt of the rock, plus the rambling vocal style and keyboard high in the mix, and came up with Hothouse Flowers!
Thus it was that I found myself alone driving to Oxford, parking up and hitting the amply-full venue towards the end of The New York Fund's set. A Scottish band, they peddled a well-received countrified rock, standard but quite good, and were joined by various members of the other 2 bands for their last number, to note the last night of this tour. Main support the Chicks followed in short order. A young smartly dressed 5-piece from New Zealand, they looked like a young Stacy Jones fronting the Click Five, but played a plodding, primitive blues that made their compatriots the Datsuns sound positively sophisticated!
But if it was raw, ragged and elemental we were looking for, we were in for a treat. On promptly at 9.30, and enjoying the rapturous reception from this sold-out crowd of indie kids and oldies like me (!), Brooklyn's The Hold Steady kicked into the type of raucous rock set that totally and utterly encapsulates my love of this stuff. A glorious, euphoric, red-wine fuelled cacophony of noise, riffery and brain-drilling hooks, featuring random, stream of consciousness vocals from former Minneapolis native Craig Finn (aah, so that explains the Bob Mould vocal style!), an urgent, insistent stage presence throughout. Having been knocking around in various bands in the past, they're intent on enjoying their time in the limelight, combining this sense of history ("We saw Bad Brains in the 90's - watching the current hardcore bands after that is like watching your mate hit on a woman that doesn't want to be hit on; embarrassing for all concerned!") with the innate dynamic enjoyment of, say, The Gentlemen.
Virtually all of the current CD got an airing, although opener "Stuck Between Stations", a raucous statement of intent, and an anthemic "Chillout Tent" were my highlights of a 1 1/2 hour set that positively whipped by in a blur of riffs, red wine and mania.
I was disappointed by the bouncer ushering me out afterwards, just as I'd struck up a conversation with impressively mustachioed keyboardist Franz, a drunk yet affable Lou from "Rescue Me" lookalike. Nevertheless, this didn't overshadow a simply superb evening from a great new NYC band!
Saturday, 28 November 2009
725 ASH, V-Formation, Bristol University Anson Rooms, Tuesday 1 March 2007
Ah, old faves Ash, another essential for Rachel despite her pregnancy. In the couple of years since harder-edged "Meltdown" CD, they'd shed guitarist Charlotte Hatherley, reducing to their core 3 founder members, prompting a couple of questions. What would the new material be like, shorn of Hatherley's pop influence? Would their full-on "live" sound suffer, one guitar down?
Thus intrigued, we set off for this sell-out show, suffering the usual parking-mare near this difficult venue, despite our early-ish arrival! Sat in the lobby before support V-Formation's set. A burst of strident colour and noise, at their best they recalled the choppy guitar speed of early Wedding Present, although the vocalist's yelping style recalled the Crimea's Davey McManus, minus the stage charisma. Overall OK, promising I suppose, but a bit thin on tunes for now.
Something you could never accuse Ash of! We stood near the back, out of the melee in this cavernous hall, for Ash's 9.40 arrival to the accompaniment of Nat King Cole! Fears about the possible thin-ness of the sound were allayed with an early "Burn Baby Burn", the guitar riff ringing out loud and clear. Ash's buoyant, upbeat, hooky punk-pop always translates well "live", and despite now being a 3-piece again, tonight was no exception, as the enthusiastic mosh could attest to. Initially, it seemed as if Tim was taking on too much, singing lead and harmony, and trying to keep lead and rhythm guitar lines going! However, this diminished as the sound settled.
"Good to be back in Bristol! This is a great room, we played here back in 1995," said Tim, prompting some thought. Sold out though this was, Ash certainly deserve to be playing bigger venues by now, especially with contemporaries such as Muse playing Wembley Stadium these days! Echoing this thought, the new material was more considered, mature, slower-burn yet with an occasionally epic feel, particularly the excellent "Roulette" and a lengthy, sinuous "Twilight Of The Innocents", which recalled the widescreen soundscapes of U2, no less.
However, turning 30 they may be, but you can't take the teen enthusiasm out of Ash - a splendid "Life Less Ordinary" (still my fave Ash song, with the killer combination of driving guitar and heart-gripping hook), a Ramones-like, singalong "Walking Barefoot" and a superb "Girl From Mars" were the set highlights, and the raucous, ebullient "Petrol" and "Kung Fu" encores capped a typically thrilling, enjoyable 1 hour 20 minutes from this trio of Irish upstarts. And with the more mature new direction, they may yet take the step up that they've long deserved.
Thus intrigued, we set off for this sell-out show, suffering the usual parking-mare near this difficult venue, despite our early-ish arrival! Sat in the lobby before support V-Formation's set. A burst of strident colour and noise, at their best they recalled the choppy guitar speed of early Wedding Present, although the vocalist's yelping style recalled the Crimea's Davey McManus, minus the stage charisma. Overall OK, promising I suppose, but a bit thin on tunes for now.
Something you could never accuse Ash of! We stood near the back, out of the melee in this cavernous hall, for Ash's 9.40 arrival to the accompaniment of Nat King Cole! Fears about the possible thin-ness of the sound were allayed with an early "Burn Baby Burn", the guitar riff ringing out loud and clear. Ash's buoyant, upbeat, hooky punk-pop always translates well "live", and despite now being a 3-piece again, tonight was no exception, as the enthusiastic mosh could attest to. Initially, it seemed as if Tim was taking on too much, singing lead and harmony, and trying to keep lead and rhythm guitar lines going! However, this diminished as the sound settled.
"Good to be back in Bristol! This is a great room, we played here back in 1995," said Tim, prompting some thought. Sold out though this was, Ash certainly deserve to be playing bigger venues by now, especially with contemporaries such as Muse playing Wembley Stadium these days! Echoing this thought, the new material was more considered, mature, slower-burn yet with an occasionally epic feel, particularly the excellent "Roulette" and a lengthy, sinuous "Twilight Of The Innocents", which recalled the widescreen soundscapes of U2, no less.
However, turning 30 they may be, but you can't take the teen enthusiasm out of Ash - a splendid "Life Less Ordinary" (still my fave Ash song, with the killer combination of driving guitar and heart-gripping hook), a Ramones-like, singalong "Walking Barefoot" and a superb "Girl From Mars" were the set highlights, and the raucous, ebullient "Petrol" and "Kung Fu" encores capped a typically thrilling, enjoyable 1 hour 20 minutes from this trio of Irish upstarts. And with the more mature new direction, they may yet take the step up that they've long deserved.
726 CHARLOTTE HATHERLEY, Shuffle, Oxford Zodiac Downstairs, Monday 5 March 2007
After seeing Ash in rude health last week, it's time to see how former Ash Guitarist Charlotte Hatherley is coping, post-her split from Ash. Rachel bought "The Deep Blue", the follow-up to her solo debut CD earlier today, and far from it being full of Belly-esque oblique little pop gems as per her first, "Grey Will Fade", this one was a washed-out, disappointing swathe of bland, trippy pop, almost as if she'd been rummaging through St. Etienne's dustbins for this poor fayre. Thus it was with mixed feelings that we set off in the pouring rain, arriving in time to catch some of Shuffle's loud, overblown and piss-poor cabaret mish-mash of a set.
Notably, the gig was in the Zodiac's smaller downstairs room, and was by no means full when Charlotte brought her 6-piece band on at 9 prompt. "Come closer," she said - never a good sign if your audience are hanging back! Nevertheless she started off with "I Want You To Know", the new single and one of the more upbeat numbers from this new CD. Shorn of the meandering atmospherics, and beefed up with some power chords and tough beats from an impressive drummer, this sounded considerably better "live", and raised hopes notably for better fayre. This was underlined by a spiky "Kim Wilde", and the dreamy pop lilt of "Summer", both from the first CD and delivered well. We're off to a great start!
That however was about it - the insubstantial, drifting "Be Thankful" followed, as did a clutch of disappointing and frankly dull new numbers, making the set mid-section an attention-wandering chore. Only a venomous but sloppy "Bastardo" caught the attention as Charlotte, visibly irked that the new material wasn't going down well, went through the motions.
Despite only muted cheers, we had the obligatory encore; a fine cover of XTC's "This Is Pop", 30 years old, yet the freshest thing on the menu. Only 45 minutes in total too - Lotte's starting from scratch again, and on tonight's evidence, it may be a long way back.
Notably, the gig was in the Zodiac's smaller downstairs room, and was by no means full when Charlotte brought her 6-piece band on at 9 prompt. "Come closer," she said - never a good sign if your audience are hanging back! Nevertheless she started off with "I Want You To Know", the new single and one of the more upbeat numbers from this new CD. Shorn of the meandering atmospherics, and beefed up with some power chords and tough beats from an impressive drummer, this sounded considerably better "live", and raised hopes notably for better fayre. This was underlined by a spiky "Kim Wilde", and the dreamy pop lilt of "Summer", both from the first CD and delivered well. We're off to a great start!
That however was about it - the insubstantial, drifting "Be Thankful" followed, as did a clutch of disappointing and frankly dull new numbers, making the set mid-section an attention-wandering chore. Only a venomous but sloppy "Bastardo" caught the attention as Charlotte, visibly irked that the new material wasn't going down well, went through the motions.
Despite only muted cheers, we had the obligatory encore; a fine cover of XTC's "This Is Pop", 30 years old, yet the freshest thing on the menu. Only 45 minutes in total too - Lotte's starting from scratch again, and on tonight's evidence, it may be a long way back.
727 STIFF LITTLE FINGERS, Bristol Academy, Wednesday 28 March 2007
The Big Man and I are always up for some old school punk rock, SLF style, and particularly so as this gig was part of the Fingers' 30th Anniversary tour! So, Rich booked tix and I picked him up at 7, parking up at 1/4 to 8 after a "Lauda-esque" (Rich's words) drive down. Got the drinks in at the back bar and discussed impending dadhood (for both of us), so missed the support altogether!
So we slunk into the venue itself later on, circumnavigating the crowded bar and getting a place on the less crowded dancefloor, bumping into some familiar faces in this older but up for it crowd. A measure of how up for it was in the reaction to the "Guitar And Drum" walk-on music - this crowd practically raised the roof! Jake then led the boys on to a raucous reception and a hot version of "Roots Radicals Rockers And Reggae". This however was cut short by some dickhead lobbing a full beer pint and catching Jake square. However, like the old trouper he is, Jake contented himself with making the hurler seem insignificantly small, then burst into "Nobody's Hero." A venomous response!
We were then treated to 40 minutes of the usual SLF mix of politicised but thrilling old school punk, interspersed with old rock stories and song history explanations from Jake, before we reached the crux of this 30th Anniversary set - a track by track reading of "Inflammable Material", the band's first album, a raw, primal burst of teenage punk rock venom and righteous indignation. Unhappily, a lot of the themes (racism, government oppression and ignorance) are as relevant today as 30 years ago, so this seemed as relevant a set now as ever. Certainly "Wasted Life", an uncomfortable to listen to "White Noise" and an extended, sinuous "Johnny Was" all hit home hard, as did set closer "Alternative Ulster", the guitars by now crunching and deafening.
Two real treats were to come though; following a nice story about SLF's early days as a young Irish band in London, we were treated to a faithful version of Thin Lizzy's "The Boys Are Back In Town" for old pal Phil Lynott, and after a second encore praising of Bristol's crowds (When Jake says, "Bristol crowds are amongst the best for us, we genuinely mean that," you believe him!) we were treated to a brilliant "Tin Soldiers", still their finest number. All in all, a great night, a great 1 hour 40 minute set - here's to the next 30 years!
So we slunk into the venue itself later on, circumnavigating the crowded bar and getting a place on the less crowded dancefloor, bumping into some familiar faces in this older but up for it crowd. A measure of how up for it was in the reaction to the "Guitar And Drum" walk-on music - this crowd practically raised the roof! Jake then led the boys on to a raucous reception and a hot version of "Roots Radicals Rockers And Reggae". This however was cut short by some dickhead lobbing a full beer pint and catching Jake square. However, like the old trouper he is, Jake contented himself with making the hurler seem insignificantly small, then burst into "Nobody's Hero." A venomous response!
We were then treated to 40 minutes of the usual SLF mix of politicised but thrilling old school punk, interspersed with old rock stories and song history explanations from Jake, before we reached the crux of this 30th Anniversary set - a track by track reading of "Inflammable Material", the band's first album, a raw, primal burst of teenage punk rock venom and righteous indignation. Unhappily, a lot of the themes (racism, government oppression and ignorance) are as relevant today as 30 years ago, so this seemed as relevant a set now as ever. Certainly "Wasted Life", an uncomfortable to listen to "White Noise" and an extended, sinuous "Johnny Was" all hit home hard, as did set closer "Alternative Ulster", the guitars by now crunching and deafening.
Two real treats were to come though; following a nice story about SLF's early days as a young Irish band in London, we were treated to a faithful version of Thin Lizzy's "The Boys Are Back In Town" for old pal Phil Lynott, and after a second encore praising of Bristol's crowds (When Jake says, "Bristol crowds are amongst the best for us, we genuinely mean that," you believe him!) we were treated to a brilliant "Tin Soldiers", still their finest number. All in all, a great night, a great 1 hour 40 minute set - here's to the next 30 years!
728 THE ENEMY, Cat The Dog, The Alones, Bristol Academy 2, Tuesday 17 April 2007
Rachel's last gig before baby Rose arrives in mid-June (scheduled!), so we hit the road just before 7 to check out the Enemy, a band of teenage Oasis fans from Coventry (sounds terrible, I know!) whose single "It's Not OK" blasted into our consciousness with an almost Damn Personals-like swagger. Do we have a band here, or just a good attitude with no tunes to back it up?
Got to the venue at 8ish - weird to go through the normal but deserted main hall to the balcony bar upstairs! Had a look into the already-crowded bar for first band the Alones. They impressed with a guitar-dominated set full of nervous claustrophobic tension, dark, gloomy and deliciously moody in an 80's Joy Division way. Very zeitgeisty, I know, but they did it well, a point I made to their guitarist afterwards as I scrounged the above set-list!
Popped out to the balcony outside the actual bar, and stayed there (avoiding flying bags from the table above!) for main support Cat The Dog. A gypsy-esque band, they started off with some glam stomp in a Rachel Stamp style, not that good really, then after what seemed like a lengthy jazz interlude, doors slammed and various band members hurtled past our vantage point screaming, "you're fuckin' fired!" at each other! So, Cat The Dog, fighting like cat and dog, and seemingly more entertaining offstage than on!
So, there was an impromptu 40 minute wait for the Enemy's scheduled 9.30 appearance. We popped back into the bar, crowded as hell now, and took a vantage point at the back, which thanks to the bar configuration and low stage meant we couldn't see a thing! D'oh!
The Enemy came on at 9.30, to the Specials' "Too Much Too Young", a nod to the last half-decent band from Cov, and possibly a metaphor? They took a minute to get their mics sorted, then apologised both for that and for, "those diabolical cunts who were on before us! Now the real music starts!" They opened with debut single "40 Days And 40 Nights", then followed it up with new single, the terrace chant punk of "Away From Here", underlining their confidence, and this was met in kind by a frenzied moshpit, the punters really up for it tonight.
Musically, the Enemy are very 1970's Jam/Clash pseudo punk/mod, with driving drums, push'n'shove rhythms and snappy guitar (sounding a little thin at times here). However their ear for catchy, singalong anthem choruses and brash, confident swagger (ego rather than po-faced arrogance) sets them apart, and made this an inclusive, upbeat and dynamic set. "It's Not OK", thrown carelessly in mid-set, was an amphetamine-fast highlight, but by no means the only string to their collective bow. 40 minutes and they were done - get in, say what you've got to say, and get out, leaving the crowd baying unrequitedly for more. Rach was well pleased that her gig hiatus was preceded by this genuinely exciting and potential-packed rabble. Ladies and gentlemen, we do have a band here!
Got to the venue at 8ish - weird to go through the normal but deserted main hall to the balcony bar upstairs! Had a look into the already-crowded bar for first band the Alones. They impressed with a guitar-dominated set full of nervous claustrophobic tension, dark, gloomy and deliciously moody in an 80's Joy Division way. Very zeitgeisty, I know, but they did it well, a point I made to their guitarist afterwards as I scrounged the above set-list!
Popped out to the balcony outside the actual bar, and stayed there (avoiding flying bags from the table above!) for main support Cat The Dog. A gypsy-esque band, they started off with some glam stomp in a Rachel Stamp style, not that good really, then after what seemed like a lengthy jazz interlude, doors slammed and various band members hurtled past our vantage point screaming, "you're fuckin' fired!" at each other! So, Cat The Dog, fighting like cat and dog, and seemingly more entertaining offstage than on!
So, there was an impromptu 40 minute wait for the Enemy's scheduled 9.30 appearance. We popped back into the bar, crowded as hell now, and took a vantage point at the back, which thanks to the bar configuration and low stage meant we couldn't see a thing! D'oh!
The Enemy came on at 9.30, to the Specials' "Too Much Too Young", a nod to the last half-decent band from Cov, and possibly a metaphor? They took a minute to get their mics sorted, then apologised both for that and for, "those diabolical cunts who were on before us! Now the real music starts!" They opened with debut single "40 Days And 40 Nights", then followed it up with new single, the terrace chant punk of "Away From Here", underlining their confidence, and this was met in kind by a frenzied moshpit, the punters really up for it tonight.
Musically, the Enemy are very 1970's Jam/Clash pseudo punk/mod, with driving drums, push'n'shove rhythms and snappy guitar (sounding a little thin at times here). However their ear for catchy, singalong anthem choruses and brash, confident swagger (ego rather than po-faced arrogance) sets them apart, and made this an inclusive, upbeat and dynamic set. "It's Not OK", thrown carelessly in mid-set, was an amphetamine-fast highlight, but by no means the only string to their collective bow. 40 minutes and they were done - get in, say what you've got to say, and get out, leaving the crowd baying unrequitedly for more. Rach was well pleased that her gig hiatus was preceded by this genuinely exciting and potential-packed rabble. Ladies and gentlemen, we do have a band here!
Friday, 27 November 2009
729 SAM ELLIOTT, Swindon, Tim's front room! Friday 4 May 2007
Yup, a gig in our old living room! Tim was organising a party, and decided to call the bluff of this singer-songwriter, whom we'd both seen last year supporting Bob Mould under the guise of Si Connelly, and who'd declared that he was willing to do gigs in the living rooms of his fans!
So, Rachel and I popped over about 7.30 to the party, hanging out in our old house with friends, and availing ourselves of Penny's superb buffet! Sam - who'd revealed that the name change was forced, due to the attention of some bailiffs - had set his guitar and keyboard up in the front room area, and we chatted awhile with this affable young chap early doors. A bit of a flake, but a nice guy nonetheless!
Sam kicked off his set at 9.45 after a mess of socialising, and we gathered in the front room to hear him. He mixed his set of introspective bedroom angst material with some eclectic covers, and on U2's "With Or Without You" revealed an excellent vocal range, comfortably hitting the high notes Bono strained at! Some happy banter and a fine cover of Otis Redding's "Dock Of The Bay" were other highlights, the latter revealing Sam's soul influences, evident in his also Jeff Buckley-like vocal gymnastics and inflections. His own material was stronger than before as well, and the 1 1/4 hour set, which ended in an impromptu Christmas medley (!) seemed shorter!
So we left just after the set, as the party was going the way of the beered-up, but complimented Sam on the way out. Not the last time I see this talented young man, I hope!
So, Rachel and I popped over about 7.30 to the party, hanging out in our old house with friends, and availing ourselves of Penny's superb buffet! Sam - who'd revealed that the name change was forced, due to the attention of some bailiffs - had set his guitar and keyboard up in the front room area, and we chatted awhile with this affable young chap early doors. A bit of a flake, but a nice guy nonetheless!
Sam kicked off his set at 9.45 after a mess of socialising, and we gathered in the front room to hear him. He mixed his set of introspective bedroom angst material with some eclectic covers, and on U2's "With Or Without You" revealed an excellent vocal range, comfortably hitting the high notes Bono strained at! Some happy banter and a fine cover of Otis Redding's "Dock Of The Bay" were other highlights, the latter revealing Sam's soul influences, evident in his also Jeff Buckley-like vocal gymnastics and inflections. His own material was stronger than before as well, and the 1 1/4 hour set, which ended in an impromptu Christmas medley (!) seemed shorter!
So we left just after the set, as the party was going the way of the beered-up, but complimented Sam on the way out. Not the last time I see this talented young man, I hope!
730 THE LEMONHEADS, The Icarus Line, Cardiff University Solus, 13 May 2007
From a young man on the way up, last time out, to someone who on tonight's evidence might just pass him on the way down. Despite evidence to the contrary, I'm always prepared to give Evan a lot of rope, but after tonight I come to bury Caesar, not praise him.
Rach passed on this one, so I got myself a ticket, trundling down in just over an hour and parking right outside the venue. Surveyed the odd scene before meeting Cardiff-domiciled Michelle and Ben. The gig venue, with a wide aspect, rounded table arrangements and waist-high barriers, reminded me of Swindon's old Brunel Rooms! Stayed in the bar after checking out a bit of the Icarus Line, who with their Doors-ish rhythm and sleaze, came across like a clumsy, less competent version of the Datsuns!
The "Lemonheads" took the stage at 9, Evan once again backed, as at the recent Bristol gig, by the 2 guys from the Pieces. Initially all seemed well; opener "Great Big No" solicited the usual singalong "whoa-oh"s from the 1/2 full crowd, and an early "My Drug Buddy" was touching and sweet. However, Evan started to complain about monitor feedback, and it took longer than he would have liked to, to resolve it. A couple of thrashy numbers, "Down About It" and "Pittsburgh", threatened to kick-start the show, but after a tuneful "Hannah And Gabi", the gig took a turn for the worse. Poor sound, careless thrashy playing from both Evan and his less than competent hired hands, and most unfavourably some off-key, atonal droning from this normally excellent (usually despite all odds!) vocalist.
A fine "Stove" briefly threatened to turn things around, but "Shame About Ray", usually the zenith of their easy, countrified post-grunge singalong pop, sounded disappointingly discordant and dirgelike. "Alison's Starting To Happen" featured some drunk punk invading the stage, then the disturbing sight of Evan pulling the bouncers off him so this guy could take the mic! Amazingly, Evan let him sing half of it, then said he didn't like, "to see someone beaten up for no reason." Evan, this dickhead INVADED THE STAGE! That's bloody reason enough, and I for one didn't pay to hear some random drunken punter!
That was it, the show was in a mire not even the usual acoustic interlude ("Different Drum" being the highlight - at least he got his shit together for that) and an excellent final "Rudderless" could save. I love the guy and I hate writing this, but I thought he'd recently rediscovered his appetite for playing. This was far from evident on tonight's show - this was Evan Dando really not caring, which we all agreed on as I left to hit the road, home before midnight. I hope to God that this was a one-off...
Rach passed on this one, so I got myself a ticket, trundling down in just over an hour and parking right outside the venue. Surveyed the odd scene before meeting Cardiff-domiciled Michelle and Ben. The gig venue, with a wide aspect, rounded table arrangements and waist-high barriers, reminded me of Swindon's old Brunel Rooms! Stayed in the bar after checking out a bit of the Icarus Line, who with their Doors-ish rhythm and sleaze, came across like a clumsy, less competent version of the Datsuns!
The "Lemonheads" took the stage at 9, Evan once again backed, as at the recent Bristol gig, by the 2 guys from the Pieces. Initially all seemed well; opener "Great Big No" solicited the usual singalong "whoa-oh"s from the 1/2 full crowd, and an early "My Drug Buddy" was touching and sweet. However, Evan started to complain about monitor feedback, and it took longer than he would have liked to, to resolve it. A couple of thrashy numbers, "Down About It" and "Pittsburgh", threatened to kick-start the show, but after a tuneful "Hannah And Gabi", the gig took a turn for the worse. Poor sound, careless thrashy playing from both Evan and his less than competent hired hands, and most unfavourably some off-key, atonal droning from this normally excellent (usually despite all odds!) vocalist.
A fine "Stove" briefly threatened to turn things around, but "Shame About Ray", usually the zenith of their easy, countrified post-grunge singalong pop, sounded disappointingly discordant and dirgelike. "Alison's Starting To Happen" featured some drunk punk invading the stage, then the disturbing sight of Evan pulling the bouncers off him so this guy could take the mic! Amazingly, Evan let him sing half of it, then said he didn't like, "to see someone beaten up for no reason." Evan, this dickhead INVADED THE STAGE! That's bloody reason enough, and I for one didn't pay to hear some random drunken punter!
That was it, the show was in a mire not even the usual acoustic interlude ("Different Drum" being the highlight - at least he got his shit together for that) and an excellent final "Rudderless" could save. I love the guy and I hate writing this, but I thought he'd recently rediscovered his appetite for playing. This was far from evident on tonight's show - this was Evan Dando really not caring, which we all agreed on as I left to hit the road, home before midnight. I hope to God that this was a one-off...
731 FOUNTAINS OF WAYNE, The Dykeenies, London Astoria, Monday 21 May 2007
The last gig before a baby-enforced absence of a couple of months, and after the last disappointing outing, I was looking for some vindication from the Wayne-meisters, despite an only average CD this year. How are the boys of Summer 1997, so dominant that year with that brilliant debut album, holding up ten years on?
Left straight from work and had an extraordinarily easy run down, parking up and tubing over to the venue for 7.45. Had time to take in how shabby it looks these days, before first band, the Dykeenies, started up. A young Scottish lot, they obviously grew up on a diet of Idlewild, judging by some frantic early numbers and stylised droney vocals, and despite sailing a little close to the New-rave fluorescent pop of, say, The Klaxons, they impressed with some good spikey tunes.
The place seemed only 1/2 full (touts were trying to shift tix outside for a quid!) but it suddenly filled up as the lights dimmed for the Wayne's 8.45 entrance. They kicked off with "I've Got A Flair" from that excellent first album, and were immediately in their stride with a splendid shiny set of their trademark wry, witty, harmonic, slightly cheesy but eminently catchy Byrds/ Big Star influenced pop. The new songs burst into life in the live environment as well, sounding tougher and brighter.
"People think we're from New Jersey but we're not; we're actually from Swindon!" Adam Schlesinger (amazingly) said, introducing the C'n'W-tinged "Hackensack", and this was countered by Chris Collingwood introducing "Mexican Wine" with, "this is about something I used to be very good at; drinking!" With Jody Porter, that well-renowned space cadet, making the most of his trademark pose ("The Leg!") the boys were in good fooling. A couple of lads were persuaded onstage for percussion duties during "Hey Julie", and following a muted reception for their cheesy pop hit "Stacey's Mom", the place went nuts for the brilliant "Radiation Vibe" and set closer "Survival Car".
Encores "Red Dragon Tattoo", "Sink To The Bottom" and a splendid "Bright Future In Sales" rounded off a lovely 1 1/4 hours entertainment, by which time Collingwood's voice was markedly raw. Worth the effort Chris! And worth the effort for me - despite a nightmare return tube journey via King's Cross, and car journey via Heathrow as the M4 was closed!
Left straight from work and had an extraordinarily easy run down, parking up and tubing over to the venue for 7.45. Had time to take in how shabby it looks these days, before first band, the Dykeenies, started up. A young Scottish lot, they obviously grew up on a diet of Idlewild, judging by some frantic early numbers and stylised droney vocals, and despite sailing a little close to the New-rave fluorescent pop of, say, The Klaxons, they impressed with some good spikey tunes.
The place seemed only 1/2 full (touts were trying to shift tix outside for a quid!) but it suddenly filled up as the lights dimmed for the Wayne's 8.45 entrance. They kicked off with "I've Got A Flair" from that excellent first album, and were immediately in their stride with a splendid shiny set of their trademark wry, witty, harmonic, slightly cheesy but eminently catchy Byrds/ Big Star influenced pop. The new songs burst into life in the live environment as well, sounding tougher and brighter.
"People think we're from New Jersey but we're not; we're actually from Swindon!" Adam Schlesinger (amazingly) said, introducing the C'n'W-tinged "Hackensack", and this was countered by Chris Collingwood introducing "Mexican Wine" with, "this is about something I used to be very good at; drinking!" With Jody Porter, that well-renowned space cadet, making the most of his trademark pose ("The Leg!") the boys were in good fooling. A couple of lads were persuaded onstage for percussion duties during "Hey Julie", and following a muted reception for their cheesy pop hit "Stacey's Mom", the place went nuts for the brilliant "Radiation Vibe" and set closer "Survival Car".
Encores "Red Dragon Tattoo", "Sink To The Bottom" and a splendid "Bright Future In Sales" rounded off a lovely 1 1/4 hours entertainment, by which time Collingwood's voice was markedly raw. Worth the effort Chris! And worth the effort for me - despite a nightmare return tube journey via King's Cross, and car journey via Heathrow as the M4 was closed!
Thursday, 26 November 2009
732 BUFFALO TOM, Dan Kelly, London Scala, Wednesday 11 July 2007
Our baby boy Logan arrived a couple of weeks ago - a couple of weeks late! - so we're in the middle of self-imposed gig exile. However something like Buffalo Tom's first UK gig for donkey's years would be enough to make me come up for air! Rach, bless her, insisted I went, so I left wife and child at 5.30, parking up across town at 7.30 and tubing it over to this rabbit warren of a venue for just after 8. Australian Dan Kelly, a Shod-alike with an acoustic guitar, nice line in between-song repartee but sadly innocuous high-octave fayre, supported, and I wandered around the venue during the set, running into our London friends David and Lisa in the process.
Took a position right at the front, stage right (vocalist Bill Janovitz' side, insisted Lisa, correctly!), then had a lengthy wait before Buffalo Tom sauntered on at 9.30. Bill immediately got hit by a bag, containing a brand new shirt that he'd apparently challenged a UK fan to buy for him!
They've been away a long time, the Tom, doing solo stuff, and also adult stuff like getting jobs and having kids. Yet on this evidence, there are still very few bands to touch them for an emotive, thrilling, visceral live rock'n'roll experience. From the opening double salvo of "Staples" and "Soda Jerk", they were on it, throwing out blistering versions of their anthemic hooky college alt-rock back catalogue to a full and enthusiastic crowd (so much so that Bill's attitude wavered between unexpected appreciation, and concern about the enthusiasm of the moshpit, which I was on the edge of throughout). A smattering of newies from their first album for 9 years, "3 Easy Pieces", proved evolution has been thankfully slow, as they merged in perfectly alongside classics like "Summer", the brilliant, haunting early "Larry" and a ragged, frantic late "Velvet Roof".
"Go Sox!" someone shouted midway through, which prompted Bill to ask, "who won the All-Star Game?". Having watched it that morning - my last day on paternity leave! - I was on hand to shout back, "American League by 5-4. Josh Beckett got the win!". "Josh Beckett," laughed Bill in response at the mention of the Red Sox ace, "I love the baseball!", before launching into a strident, shoutalong "Taillights Fade".
The superfast "Tangerine" climaxed the set, before a slower, more considered 4 song encore rounded off by "Birdbrain", finished a lengthy but quick 1 hour 50 minute set! This however took us to 11.20, and with a long journey and new baby broken night ahead of me, plus back to work the next day, I eschewed the chance to quickly pop backstage with Lisa (an old friend of Bills) and hit the road, getting home just after 1. Back into gig exile, but t'was only right that I came up for air for Buffalo Tom!
Took a position right at the front, stage right (vocalist Bill Janovitz' side, insisted Lisa, correctly!), then had a lengthy wait before Buffalo Tom sauntered on at 9.30. Bill immediately got hit by a bag, containing a brand new shirt that he'd apparently challenged a UK fan to buy for him!
They've been away a long time, the Tom, doing solo stuff, and also adult stuff like getting jobs and having kids. Yet on this evidence, there are still very few bands to touch them for an emotive, thrilling, visceral live rock'n'roll experience. From the opening double salvo of "Staples" and "Soda Jerk", they were on it, throwing out blistering versions of their anthemic hooky college alt-rock back catalogue to a full and enthusiastic crowd (so much so that Bill's attitude wavered between unexpected appreciation, and concern about the enthusiasm of the moshpit, which I was on the edge of throughout). A smattering of newies from their first album for 9 years, "3 Easy Pieces", proved evolution has been thankfully slow, as they merged in perfectly alongside classics like "Summer", the brilliant, haunting early "Larry" and a ragged, frantic late "Velvet Roof".
"Go Sox!" someone shouted midway through, which prompted Bill to ask, "who won the All-Star Game?". Having watched it that morning - my last day on paternity leave! - I was on hand to shout back, "American League by 5-4. Josh Beckett got the win!". "Josh Beckett," laughed Bill in response at the mention of the Red Sox ace, "I love the baseball!", before launching into a strident, shoutalong "Taillights Fade".
The superfast "Tangerine" climaxed the set, before a slower, more considered 4 song encore rounded off by "Birdbrain", finished a lengthy but quick 1 hour 50 minute set! This however took us to 11.20, and with a long journey and new baby broken night ahead of me, plus back to work the next day, I eschewed the chance to quickly pop backstage with Lisa (an old friend of Bills) and hit the road, getting home just after 1. Back into gig exile, but t'was only right that I came up for air for Buffalo Tom!
733 EDITORS, Ra Ra Riot, THE KISSAWAY TRAIL, Bristol Academy, Monday 15 October 2007
The end of the longest gig hiatus since my illness had a false start, as Rachel and I had actually driven down to the Louisiana last week to see The Kissaway Trail, only to discover on arrival that they'd postponed that date to join Editors on tour! So I was happy but Rach wasn't, as she'd previously passed this gig up, a decision she regretted doubly now! So the Kissaway Trail's presence on this bill gave me impetus to get there early doors, however a malfunctioning air pressure pump at the garage and a car-park mare on arrival meant that, despite my 6.30 set-off time, my gig buddy Ian and I arrived at 10 to 8, midway through the K-T's third number (and my favourite), "Smother+Evil=Hurt"! D'oh!
So we took a spot centre stage for the rest of their rather splendid set - contemporaries of Mew, this Danish 5-piece share Mew's grasp of shimmering, plangent melody and ephemera, but mix in more than a modicum of Mercury Rev's sense of awe, and the general sweeping euphoria of the Polyphonic Spree (very evident in new single "The La La Song", rendered wonderfully tonight). Closer "Soul Assassins" showed a bent towards stunning wall-of-noise dramatics, and made me feel pig-sick their rearranged Louisiana date clashes with the National's Anson Rooms show. Have to do something about that, methinks... However, main tour support Ra Ra Riot, a Syracuse, NY 6-piece, merged ska, 80's style synth retro and headband glam pop into, quite frankly, a tuneless mess. Damn shame they, and not the infinitely superior Kissaway Trail, were main support...
The place filled up quickly but we kept our centre stage spot for the entrance of Editors at 9.30 prompt. Media darlings from the outset of their brief career to date, Ipswich's Editors started off very much on the coat-tails of NYC's Interpol, their debut "The Back Room" featuring many of Interpol's dark, claustrophobic soundscapes and clipped guitar riffs. And yes, an obvious nod towards Joy Division... However, with excellent new album "An End Has A Start", Editors have arguably supplanted their alleged progenitors as the primary purveyors of driving, dark rock'n'roll with a distinct 80's rockist bent, taking their Interpolesque debut sound and suffusing it with shiny shimmery guitar, reminiscent of House Of Love or even Kitchens Of Distinction!
An alluring blend, and evident tonight that they know how to tread the boards in style. The opening salvo of new album title track and "Bones" were fast-paced, itchy, insistent and resonant, with the sound mixed perfectly to feature vocalist Tom Smith's delicious, deep and rich baritone, so reminiscent of Ian Curtis... This was unfortunately at the expense of some guitar, particularly early doors, which was a little frustrating. However, Smith's performance more than made up for that; a dominant, angular presence throughout, alternating between energetic leaps a la American Hi-Fi's Stacy Jones (!) and piano parts, particularly on the stunning "Weight Of The World", the best song of the set, Smith was rakishly eye-catching. Polite too, with almost perfect enunciation, rare in a rock'n'roll singer! "Racing Rats" was also a set highlight, as was closer and fan favourite "Munich", but the best was saved for the encore; their best number, "Smokers Outside The Hospital Doors" was awesome; shimmering, plangent and magnificent. Misery has rarely sounded so euphoric.
A great show - not stratospherically so as they could have been, but great nonetheless - capped by a quick meet with some of the Kissaway Trail boys afterwards. A superb double-header to resume my gigging ways from 2 bands that there's a lot more to come from!
So we took a spot centre stage for the rest of their rather splendid set - contemporaries of Mew, this Danish 5-piece share Mew's grasp of shimmering, plangent melody and ephemera, but mix in more than a modicum of Mercury Rev's sense of awe, and the general sweeping euphoria of the Polyphonic Spree (very evident in new single "The La La Song", rendered wonderfully tonight). Closer "Soul Assassins" showed a bent towards stunning wall-of-noise dramatics, and made me feel pig-sick their rearranged Louisiana date clashes with the National's Anson Rooms show. Have to do something about that, methinks... However, main tour support Ra Ra Riot, a Syracuse, NY 6-piece, merged ska, 80's style synth retro and headband glam pop into, quite frankly, a tuneless mess. Damn shame they, and not the infinitely superior Kissaway Trail, were main support...
The place filled up quickly but we kept our centre stage spot for the entrance of Editors at 9.30 prompt. Media darlings from the outset of their brief career to date, Ipswich's Editors started off very much on the coat-tails of NYC's Interpol, their debut "The Back Room" featuring many of Interpol's dark, claustrophobic soundscapes and clipped guitar riffs. And yes, an obvious nod towards Joy Division... However, with excellent new album "An End Has A Start", Editors have arguably supplanted their alleged progenitors as the primary purveyors of driving, dark rock'n'roll with a distinct 80's rockist bent, taking their Interpolesque debut sound and suffusing it with shiny shimmery guitar, reminiscent of House Of Love or even Kitchens Of Distinction!
An alluring blend, and evident tonight that they know how to tread the boards in style. The opening salvo of new album title track and "Bones" were fast-paced, itchy, insistent and resonant, with the sound mixed perfectly to feature vocalist Tom Smith's delicious, deep and rich baritone, so reminiscent of Ian Curtis... This was unfortunately at the expense of some guitar, particularly early doors, which was a little frustrating. However, Smith's performance more than made up for that; a dominant, angular presence throughout, alternating between energetic leaps a la American Hi-Fi's Stacy Jones (!) and piano parts, particularly on the stunning "Weight Of The World", the best song of the set, Smith was rakishly eye-catching. Polite too, with almost perfect enunciation, rare in a rock'n'roll singer! "Racing Rats" was also a set highlight, as was closer and fan favourite "Munich", but the best was saved for the encore; their best number, "Smokers Outside The Hospital Doors" was awesome; shimmering, plangent and magnificent. Misery has rarely sounded so euphoric.
A great show - not stratospherically so as they could have been, but great nonetheless - capped by a quick meet with some of the Kissaway Trail boys afterwards. A superb double-header to resume my gigging ways from 2 bands that there's a lot more to come from!
Tuesday, 24 November 2009
734 THE ARCADE FIRE, Clinic, Cardiff International Arena, Tuesday 30 October 2007
At last - having made their sumptuous, soaring single "Wake Up" my number one single of 2005, and after numerous attempts to secure one of the hottest tickets on the circuit, we finally get to see The Arcade Fire! Shame it's an arena gig, but whatever... For Rach's and my first gig together since Logan was born, we decided on a couple of nights away for a mini-break in Cardiff!
So, we left Logan in the hotel room with our hired babysitter, and hit the venue just before 8, parking on the top level of the adjacent car park (uh oh, better get a flyer afterwards...) and getting into this cavernous auditorium, queueing for drinks and taking a stage-right spot while Clinic, all surgeon-masked up as usual, peddled their monotone, innocuous Fall-like dirge without making much impression - again, as usual!
We ran into friends Craig and Rowan after their set, as Craig attempted to hunt down a mobile barman! We'd had dinner with them the night before, renewing acquaintances with an old, close friend, his partner and their 2 amazing sons, including Rowan who, at 13, is cooler than I ever was as a teenager! They eventually disappeared into the melee - Rowan, despite this being his first "big gig", was moshpit bound; good man!
Rach and I however held station for the arrival of the Vancouver, Canada collective that is The Arcade Fire, who entered the elaborately set-up stage at the stroke of 9, all 10 of them taking up their stations and easing into the set opener, the slow-burn, Tex-Mex flavoured "Ocean Of Noise".
The Arcade Fire are a dark, mysterious and occasionally downright menacing melange of any and all musical styles; a bubbling melting pot of Americana, recalling but not resembling the likes of Mercury Rev. Stately, lovelorn, epic, tragic, comic, angular and spooky, it's all here in equal measure! However the 10-piece nature of the band, covering all bases of sounds, string, brass, synth and conventional rock, does make for an occasionally unwieldy set of layers, and despite a spine-tingling "Black Mirror" and a frankly scary, stripped back version of the Violent Femmes' "Kiss Off", it took until an erupting "Keep The Car Running" for the sound to be sorted and the band to really soar. An ebullient, triumphant "No Cars Go" was also stunning, until set closer "Rebellion" rounded off an inconsistent but absorbing set.
We moved to the back for the encores; a patchy "Intervention", my favourite from the new "Neon Bible" album but not quite hitting the epic building crescendos of the album version; and the closer "Wake Up" (the song which persuaded me of the boundless potential of The Arcade Fire) which I'm glad to report they did nail perfectly, a soaring sweeping epic of harmonic majesty to end the evening on a real high.
A total car-park mare ensued, as it took 25 minutes to clear the car park - despite our flying exit! Why only have 2 functioning pay machines in a car park next to an 8,000 capacity venue? Madness! Nevertheless, a splendid evening, despite the occasional hit and miss nature of The Arcade Fire. Worth the wait - and the effort!
Oh, and the set-list above was courtesy of Rowan, who took my gig memorabilia advice to heart, and bagged 3 of the buggers!
So, we left Logan in the hotel room with our hired babysitter, and hit the venue just before 8, parking on the top level of the adjacent car park (uh oh, better get a flyer afterwards...) and getting into this cavernous auditorium, queueing for drinks and taking a stage-right spot while Clinic, all surgeon-masked up as usual, peddled their monotone, innocuous Fall-like dirge without making much impression - again, as usual!
We ran into friends Craig and Rowan after their set, as Craig attempted to hunt down a mobile barman! We'd had dinner with them the night before, renewing acquaintances with an old, close friend, his partner and their 2 amazing sons, including Rowan who, at 13, is cooler than I ever was as a teenager! They eventually disappeared into the melee - Rowan, despite this being his first "big gig", was moshpit bound; good man!
Rach and I however held station for the arrival of the Vancouver, Canada collective that is The Arcade Fire, who entered the elaborately set-up stage at the stroke of 9, all 10 of them taking up their stations and easing into the set opener, the slow-burn, Tex-Mex flavoured "Ocean Of Noise".
The Arcade Fire are a dark, mysterious and occasionally downright menacing melange of any and all musical styles; a bubbling melting pot of Americana, recalling but not resembling the likes of Mercury Rev. Stately, lovelorn, epic, tragic, comic, angular and spooky, it's all here in equal measure! However the 10-piece nature of the band, covering all bases of sounds, string, brass, synth and conventional rock, does make for an occasionally unwieldy set of layers, and despite a spine-tingling "Black Mirror" and a frankly scary, stripped back version of the Violent Femmes' "Kiss Off", it took until an erupting "Keep The Car Running" for the sound to be sorted and the band to really soar. An ebullient, triumphant "No Cars Go" was also stunning, until set closer "Rebellion" rounded off an inconsistent but absorbing set.
We moved to the back for the encores; a patchy "Intervention", my favourite from the new "Neon Bible" album but not quite hitting the epic building crescendos of the album version; and the closer "Wake Up" (the song which persuaded me of the boundless potential of The Arcade Fire) which I'm glad to report they did nail perfectly, a soaring sweeping epic of harmonic majesty to end the evening on a real high.
A total car-park mare ensued, as it took 25 minutes to clear the car park - despite our flying exit! Why only have 2 functioning pay machines in a car park next to an 8,000 capacity venue? Madness! Nevertheless, a splendid evening, despite the occasional hit and miss nature of The Arcade Fire. Worth the wait - and the effort!
Oh, and the set-list above was courtesy of Rowan, who took my gig memorabilia advice to heart, and bagged 3 of the buggers!
735 THE NATIONAL, The Broken Family Band, London Shepherd's Bush Empire, Thursday 8 November 2007
Well, the Kissaway Trail impressed me enough on their Editors support slot to ensure I went to their Louisiana rearranged gig! This meant a quick trip to the National's website to see if I could pass on their clashing Anson Rooms date in favour of another, and thus it came to pass that I hit the M4 on this Thursday evening, armed with a Shepherd's Bush residency day 2 ticket for this impressive new US alt-rock band.
Parked at 1/4 to 8 and hit the venue in good time for support the Broken Family Band, who sauntered on at 8 pm sharp. They veered between slow-burn US alt-country (despite being a UK band) and discordant, often thrilling white noise, often in the same song! The deadpan vocalist had a nice line in banter - "we're supporting the National and you're not; mind you, we had dinner in the Walkabout next door and you probably didn't" - "cheer when we mention the National, it makes us a more viable support" - and my favourite, "this song is dedicated to the National, as a way of saying thank you for having us, Mr. and Mrs. National". Great! Their new single was the most conventional "pop" thing they did all set, otherwise this seemingly ordinary 4-piece were intriguing, recalling the Violent Femmes in both music and subject matter!
Stayed stage right, near the front, for the National's entrance at 9.15. After beguiling me with their previous "Alligator" CD and their current "Boxer" follow-up, my sleeper CD of this year, I was expecting an understated, perhaps detached set of their almost glacially cool marriage of moody, late night bar-room torch music, and occasional Death Cab For Cutie-esque quirky US alt-indie rock. However, from the outset they attacked their set with a hitherto unexpected venom, their resonant elements proving much more dynamic onstage. Vocalist Matt Berringer, possessor of a unique deep, rich yet clipped and understated vocal style, positively flew into the set, screaming the crescendo line of "Secret Meeting". Startling, yes, but the material handled this unexpected rough treatment well and robustly, and gained extra dimensions as a consequence. "Mistaken For Strangers" and "Looking For Astronauts" were mid-set highlights; "Fake Empire", introduced as, "dedicated to the Shepherd's Bush Empire, we've dreamed of playing this here!" featured a rousing sing-along, and brilliant first encore "Mr. November" was positively punk rock, Matt roaring the chorus like a wounded lion.
"Start A War" concluded an unexpectedly overt set of dark moody late night material given a markedly different, rockier spin. A rapturously received 1 1/2 hour performance from a band I'm glad I made the extra effort to see!
Oh and by the way, I loved guitarist Aaron's story of his mum's misadventures the previous night, having flown in from Ohio to attend this 2-night residency; "she got thrown out of the balcony last night for not having the right pass, but then I found out she was smoking drugs! My dad found out and now it's this big scandal back in Ohio!"
Parked at 1/4 to 8 and hit the venue in good time for support the Broken Family Band, who sauntered on at 8 pm sharp. They veered between slow-burn US alt-country (despite being a UK band) and discordant, often thrilling white noise, often in the same song! The deadpan vocalist had a nice line in banter - "we're supporting the National and you're not; mind you, we had dinner in the Walkabout next door and you probably didn't" - "cheer when we mention the National, it makes us a more viable support" - and my favourite, "this song is dedicated to the National, as a way of saying thank you for having us, Mr. and Mrs. National". Great! Their new single was the most conventional "pop" thing they did all set, otherwise this seemingly ordinary 4-piece were intriguing, recalling the Violent Femmes in both music and subject matter!
Stayed stage right, near the front, for the National's entrance at 9.15. After beguiling me with their previous "Alligator" CD and their current "Boxer" follow-up, my sleeper CD of this year, I was expecting an understated, perhaps detached set of their almost glacially cool marriage of moody, late night bar-room torch music, and occasional Death Cab For Cutie-esque quirky US alt-indie rock. However, from the outset they attacked their set with a hitherto unexpected venom, their resonant elements proving much more dynamic onstage. Vocalist Matt Berringer, possessor of a unique deep, rich yet clipped and understated vocal style, positively flew into the set, screaming the crescendo line of "Secret Meeting". Startling, yes, but the material handled this unexpected rough treatment well and robustly, and gained extra dimensions as a consequence. "Mistaken For Strangers" and "Looking For Astronauts" were mid-set highlights; "Fake Empire", introduced as, "dedicated to the Shepherd's Bush Empire, we've dreamed of playing this here!" featured a rousing sing-along, and brilliant first encore "Mr. November" was positively punk rock, Matt roaring the chorus like a wounded lion.
"Start A War" concluded an unexpectedly overt set of dark moody late night material given a markedly different, rockier spin. A rapturously received 1 1/2 hour performance from a band I'm glad I made the extra effort to see!
Oh and by the way, I loved guitarist Aaron's story of his mum's misadventures the previous night, having flown in from Ohio to attend this 2-night residency; "she got thrown out of the balcony last night for not having the right pass, but then I found out she was smoking drugs! My dad found out and now it's this big scandal back in Ohio!"
736 THE KISSAWAY TRAIL, Autumns, Jacob Golden, Bristol Louisiana, Friday 9 November 2007
So, having seen the National yesterday, that cleared the decks for me to ignore my clashing Anson Rooms ticket, and return to the Louisiana for this rearranged date, the previously scheduled date of which was the first "gig" Rachel and I tried to go to together since Logan's birth, only to get here and find it postponed! Having been party to just over half their truncated Editors support slot, I was keen to see the full set, as was Rachel, who said she'd left the recent Arcade Fire gig singing Kissaway Trail songs!
So we hit the road at 1/4 to 8, picking the convoluted route down cobbled streets to the Louisiana, parking at 1/4 to 9 and catching the last knockings of soloist Jacob Golden's set. He shared the shy, understated mannerisms of Aaron Perrino, but had a much higher vocal delivery which suited his stripped back, lovelorn lamentations. Not too bad really. Next up, The Autumns, were however a different kettle of noise - an incongruous bunch of beardies who played a mulch of pompous prog-rock and stomping glam noisily and ineffectively. With the tall vocalist's falsetto, they were evidently trying to be Muse and failing, so we repaired to the downstairs bar for a chat about band names, and a brief conversation with passing Kissaway Trail vocalist Soren. Popped back upstairs in time for the main event, taking a position stage centre in this crowded and hot little upstairs venue.
The Kissaway Trail squeezed past to take the stage at 10.15, kicking into "Forever Turned Out To Be Too Long" and "61". This Danish 5-piece paint stunning, shining musical dreamscapes on record, their self-titled CD fast becoming one of my 2007 faves, with wistful, ephemeral material mixed with plangent, euphoric anthems. However, the live environment really gives the material energy, dynamism and power. "Smother+Evil=Hurt" was shimmering and magnificent; "Close Up Far Away" was naggingly familiar (recalling a Sheila Divine number, methinks) and touchingly haunting; yet the real gem was "The La La Song", a thrillingly euphoric anthem and the jewel in this marvellous set. "The stars, the stars, the stars will guide us," indeed!
A simply stunning and powerful 45 minutes ended with another punchy rendition of "Soul Assassins", the double-finish taking me by surprise again! In terms of performance, this amazing set was as good as anything I've seen this year, and Rach remarked this was exactly the kind of set she'd wanted The Arcade Fire to play. I think we might have the makings of a very special band here in The Kissaway Trail!
So we hit the road at 1/4 to 8, picking the convoluted route down cobbled streets to the Louisiana, parking at 1/4 to 9 and catching the last knockings of soloist Jacob Golden's set. He shared the shy, understated mannerisms of Aaron Perrino, but had a much higher vocal delivery which suited his stripped back, lovelorn lamentations. Not too bad really. Next up, The Autumns, were however a different kettle of noise - an incongruous bunch of beardies who played a mulch of pompous prog-rock and stomping glam noisily and ineffectively. With the tall vocalist's falsetto, they were evidently trying to be Muse and failing, so we repaired to the downstairs bar for a chat about band names, and a brief conversation with passing Kissaway Trail vocalist Soren. Popped back upstairs in time for the main event, taking a position stage centre in this crowded and hot little upstairs venue.
The Kissaway Trail squeezed past to take the stage at 10.15, kicking into "Forever Turned Out To Be Too Long" and "61". This Danish 5-piece paint stunning, shining musical dreamscapes on record, their self-titled CD fast becoming one of my 2007 faves, with wistful, ephemeral material mixed with plangent, euphoric anthems. However, the live environment really gives the material energy, dynamism and power. "Smother+Evil=Hurt" was shimmering and magnificent; "Close Up Far Away" was naggingly familiar (recalling a Sheila Divine number, methinks) and touchingly haunting; yet the real gem was "The La La Song", a thrillingly euphoric anthem and the jewel in this marvellous set. "The stars, the stars, the stars will guide us," indeed!
A simply stunning and powerful 45 minutes ended with another punchy rendition of "Soul Assassins", the double-finish taking me by surprise again! In terms of performance, this amazing set was as good as anything I've seen this year, and Rach remarked this was exactly the kind of set she'd wanted The Arcade Fire to play. I think we might have the makings of a very special band here in The Kissaway Trail!
737 BUFFALO TOM, Tiny Vipers, London Islington Academy, Saturday 1 December 2007
And here's an already-special band to finish off the 2007 gig year in style! I broke my Logan-inspired gig hiatus for the Tom's first UK show in 9 years when Logan was 3 weeks old, so for sure we'd be back for this, their first UK show in, erm, 4 1/2 months! Plus, of course, Islington Academy = pre-gig Wagamamas! So a 3.15 start saw Rachel and I, with Tim and Penny, hitting mad Christmas traffic and parking up at the NI centre at 6.15, meeting our London friends, and after a usual splendid Wagamamas with good company, we hit the venue at 8. Tiny Vipers were on, playing virtually silent folksy material which frankly made the Cowboy Junkies sound like Napalm Death. I took a wander around the venue and overheard this snatch of conversation; "This lot are from Seattle, you know,"; "you mean, they've come all that way, just to do THAT??" Brilliant!
Took a spot stage left, unfortunately behind a couple of tall blokes, for Buffalo Tom's entrance at 8.30, Bill claiming, "We're not used to going on this early!" Possibly underlining this, they eased into their set with a couple of mid-paced numbers from their shiny 1994 would-be breakthrough "Big Red Letter Day" CD, as if feeling their way into the set, which was odd given they'd just toured in Europe! A sparkling, emotive "Kitchen Door" from Chris really started to pull things around, though, and by "Tangerine", a couple of numbers later, I was in the (admittedly very polite!) moshpit. The Tom paced their set perfectly, given that they're no longer young 20-something spunkers - each fast, mosh-inducing number (e.g. "Tangerine", "Velvet Roof") was followed by a plangent, moody slowie ("Scottish Windows" or the brilliant "Mineral"). And of course "Larry" and "Taillights Fade" were extraordinarily high watermarks in this set of prime blue-collar US alternative rock.
Not so much banter this time as the Tom were working against the clock - Bill kept referring to this throughout the set, so they didn't stay off for long after their set closer, before returning for an oddly low-key double encore of "Rachael", nevertheless perfectly delivered by Chris, and the sinuous oldie "Crutch", to close a surprisingly quick 1 1/2 hour set.
So we bade farewell to our London friends promptly to get a quick exit, which unfortunately backfired on us (literally!) as Tim's car ground to a juddering halt on the A40, necessitating a call to the AA. They only took 5 minutes to arrive (!) and after sorting out the electrics, we eventually got home at 10 to 1. Anyway, the Tom? Well, I'd seen them better, but for this and their exemplary July show, they deserve my 2007 Top Live Act award. Still as emotive, vital and very special as ever!
Took a spot stage left, unfortunately behind a couple of tall blokes, for Buffalo Tom's entrance at 8.30, Bill claiming, "We're not used to going on this early!" Possibly underlining this, they eased into their set with a couple of mid-paced numbers from their shiny 1994 would-be breakthrough "Big Red Letter Day" CD, as if feeling their way into the set, which was odd given they'd just toured in Europe! A sparkling, emotive "Kitchen Door" from Chris really started to pull things around, though, and by "Tangerine", a couple of numbers later, I was in the (admittedly very polite!) moshpit. The Tom paced their set perfectly, given that they're no longer young 20-something spunkers - each fast, mosh-inducing number (e.g. "Tangerine", "Velvet Roof") was followed by a plangent, moody slowie ("Scottish Windows" or the brilliant "Mineral"). And of course "Larry" and "Taillights Fade" were extraordinarily high watermarks in this set of prime blue-collar US alternative rock.
Not so much banter this time as the Tom were working against the clock - Bill kept referring to this throughout the set, so they didn't stay off for long after their set closer, before returning for an oddly low-key double encore of "Rachael", nevertheless perfectly delivered by Chris, and the sinuous oldie "Crutch", to close a surprisingly quick 1 1/2 hour set.
So we bade farewell to our London friends promptly to get a quick exit, which unfortunately backfired on us (literally!) as Tim's car ground to a juddering halt on the A40, necessitating a call to the AA. They only took 5 minutes to arrive (!) and after sorting out the electrics, we eventually got home at 10 to 1. Anyway, the Tom? Well, I'd seen them better, but for this and their exemplary July show, they deserve my 2007 Top Live Act award. Still as emotive, vital and very special as ever!
738 DASHBOARD CONFESSIONAL, Birmingham Carling Academy 2, Monday 22 January 2008
My 2008 gig opener turned out to be a travel nightmare; Dashboard Confessional announced a short tour passing closest to Swindon at the Birmingham Academy 2, location of a very frustrating journey last time out (Hot Hot Heat). However, once found, a venue is normally easier - surely it couldn't be as bad again?
Actually, it turned out to be worse - I hot-footed up the M5 after a 6.30 departure, then, despite being armed with maps and directions, spent 45 minutes driving around a half-deserted Birmingham City Centre, temper and ire raising with every 3-point turn, dead end and clueless local. I finally chanced upon it over the other side of the Bullring, just as I was about ready to throw the towel in and drive home, and parked up, getting in at 10 to 9 and totally missing the support. D'oh! As it turned out, I was in the already-heaving little side-room venue only 10 minutes before Chris Carraba's on-stage time. What is it with Dashboard gigs and close shaves, anyway? Took a position at the back by the mixing desk, which at least afforded a decent view, for Chris' appearance at 9pm prompt.
Dashboard's recent "Poison Trees" CD was a more acoustic, stripped back affair, harking back to his "Places You Have Come To Fear The Most" beginnings after 2 "rock" albums. Appropriate therefore that this mini-tour was the naked Dashboard; Chris solo, armed only with guitar and bagfuls of angst. However, irrespective of format, the communality of the Dashboard gig remained, with most of the crowd singing along verbatim to most of the numbers. This, to my mind, detracted from some songs, especially early "Don't Wait", where Chris rather lazily let the crowd do the soaring, voice-cracking hook. Shame!
Things improved however, after "The Good Fight" and a fine "Screaming Infidelities" from that excellent first album. Carraba was a charming, self-deprecating stage presence, with quick wit throughout (e.g. Punter: "you've got a lot of songs about girls you've been with," Carraba: "well, if you had my job, would you have just one girl or lots?") and if he didn't win everyone over (particularly one guy who shouted, "bollocks," while Chris explained how songs have the power to transport you back to that one moment - Chris' response to that was, "shut the fuck up, dickhead!"), certainly most were on board with his stripped-back tales of personal love and heartbreak.
"Best Intentions", the best sung-along number of the night, nevertheless saw Chris challenging himself with lengthy-held high notes, emphasising the desolation of the subject matter. Finally, after a lengthy and slightly syrupy exhortation as to how much we the audience add to his songs by singing along, a superb "Hands Down", the apogee of the Dashboard canon, capped the set, the song climax stretched to breaking point, after which Chris hopped offstage to banter with the front rows after an uneven but absorbing 1 hour 40 minutes set. He's probably still there! I however hit the road and promptly got lost getting out of B'rum as well! Academy? Never again! Dashboard? Maybe, but hopefully closer next time!
Actually, it turned out to be worse - I hot-footed up the M5 after a 6.30 departure, then, despite being armed with maps and directions, spent 45 minutes driving around a half-deserted Birmingham City Centre, temper and ire raising with every 3-point turn, dead end and clueless local. I finally chanced upon it over the other side of the Bullring, just as I was about ready to throw the towel in and drive home, and parked up, getting in at 10 to 9 and totally missing the support. D'oh! As it turned out, I was in the already-heaving little side-room venue only 10 minutes before Chris Carraba's on-stage time. What is it with Dashboard gigs and close shaves, anyway? Took a position at the back by the mixing desk, which at least afforded a decent view, for Chris' appearance at 9pm prompt.
Dashboard's recent "Poison Trees" CD was a more acoustic, stripped back affair, harking back to his "Places You Have Come To Fear The Most" beginnings after 2 "rock" albums. Appropriate therefore that this mini-tour was the naked Dashboard; Chris solo, armed only with guitar and bagfuls of angst. However, irrespective of format, the communality of the Dashboard gig remained, with most of the crowd singing along verbatim to most of the numbers. This, to my mind, detracted from some songs, especially early "Don't Wait", where Chris rather lazily let the crowd do the soaring, voice-cracking hook. Shame!
Things improved however, after "The Good Fight" and a fine "Screaming Infidelities" from that excellent first album. Carraba was a charming, self-deprecating stage presence, with quick wit throughout (e.g. Punter: "you've got a lot of songs about girls you've been with," Carraba: "well, if you had my job, would you have just one girl or lots?") and if he didn't win everyone over (particularly one guy who shouted, "bollocks," while Chris explained how songs have the power to transport you back to that one moment - Chris' response to that was, "shut the fuck up, dickhead!"), certainly most were on board with his stripped-back tales of personal love and heartbreak.
"Best Intentions", the best sung-along number of the night, nevertheless saw Chris challenging himself with lengthy-held high notes, emphasising the desolation of the subject matter. Finally, after a lengthy and slightly syrupy exhortation as to how much we the audience add to his songs by singing along, a superb "Hands Down", the apogee of the Dashboard canon, capped the set, the song climax stretched to breaking point, after which Chris hopped offstage to banter with the front rows after an uneven but absorbing 1 hour 40 minutes set. He's probably still there! I however hit the road and promptly got lost getting out of B'rum as well! Academy? Never again! Dashboard? Maybe, but hopefully closer next time!
Friday, 20 November 2009
739 JIMMY EAT WORLD, Sparkadia, Southampton Guildhall, Sunday 17 February 2008
Rachel's first gig of 2008 is old faves Jimmy Eat World, who delivered another shiny, catchy and strident CD "Chase This Light" last year and are maturing nicely into one of our most reliable and consistent acts, both "live" and on CD. They've not let us down yet... An excited Rachel drove us down to the easy-to-find Guildhall, and we parked up at the front. Free after 6pm. Yay! Got in at 8.15, midway through support Sparkadia's set. A very impressive number greeted us - a doomy yet soaring epic, recalling the likes of Joy Division and The Wild Swans in its grandiose sweep. The rest of the set was similarly impressive; the young vocalist, looking to curry favour with the Southampton audience with some kind words about Matt le Tissier, said the CD was out in May, at which point they'll be back. On the evidence of this highly promising, heroic sounding half-set, so will I!
We got a drink and grabbed a superb viewing position stage right for the entrance of Jimmy Eat World at 9; lights out, straight on, no messing! Straight "on it", too, with an energetic rendition of recent single "Big Casino", followed up with the angular, Buffalo Tom-isms of "Sweetness". "Damn, there's a lot of you out there," Jim Adkins said to this cavernous venue, before leading the band through their well-paced set, the mid-paced rock of "Work" following this frantic start. The mid-set double salvo of "Bleed American", all power, pace and the usual brilliant middle eight, followed by oldie "Blister" with Tom Linton taking vocal chores - how long would it take to walk across the United States all alone? - were the two set highlights for me, an awesome coupling. However Jimmy Eat World pretty much hit the bullseye each time out with their passionate, committed delivery of their emotive punk pop. A great set, caped with a 4-song encore, which nevertheless still clocked in at a relatively short 1 hour 15 minutes. No "A Praise Chorus" (my favourite JEW number - boo!) or "Lucky Denver Mint" which was disappointing, but after a sing-along "The Middle" to climax this set, this at least meant we were home at 11.30, set-lists in tow. Yay!
So, after another fine, occasionally awesome but never less than great set, Jimmy Eat World still haven't let us down. Long may that continue!
A footnote to this was that Rachel went to the Bristol gig the following Saturday while I babysat, and "A Praise Chorus" was second number in. Damn!
We got a drink and grabbed a superb viewing position stage right for the entrance of Jimmy Eat World at 9; lights out, straight on, no messing! Straight "on it", too, with an energetic rendition of recent single "Big Casino", followed up with the angular, Buffalo Tom-isms of "Sweetness". "Damn, there's a lot of you out there," Jim Adkins said to this cavernous venue, before leading the band through their well-paced set, the mid-paced rock of "Work" following this frantic start. The mid-set double salvo of "Bleed American", all power, pace and the usual brilliant middle eight, followed by oldie "Blister" with Tom Linton taking vocal chores - how long would it take to walk across the United States all alone? - were the two set highlights for me, an awesome coupling. However Jimmy Eat World pretty much hit the bullseye each time out with their passionate, committed delivery of their emotive punk pop. A great set, caped with a 4-song encore, which nevertheless still clocked in at a relatively short 1 hour 15 minutes. No "A Praise Chorus" (my favourite JEW number - boo!) or "Lucky Denver Mint" which was disappointing, but after a sing-along "The Middle" to climax this set, this at least meant we were home at 11.30, set-lists in tow. Yay!
So, after another fine, occasionally awesome but never less than great set, Jimmy Eat World still haven't let us down. Long may that continue!
A footnote to this was that Rachel went to the Bristol gig the following Saturday while I babysat, and "A Praise Chorus" was second number in. Damn!
740 NADA SURF, Rogue Wave, London Scala, Thursday 21 February 2008
My facebook status before this gig read thus; "David Rose is... looking forward to seeing Nada Surf on Thursday and maybe saying "hey" to facebook friend Matt Caws". Truth to tell, I was very much up for this one, as 'da Surf have been gradually and slyly becoming my favourite band currently actively touring, recording and making music. I love their unique blend of US college rock, which is open, honest, exciting, thrilling, touching, emotive and highly melodic, all in equal measure. So, Rachel and I hit the road at 6, parking at Shepherd's Bush and tubing it to Kings Cross, hitting the venue at 8.15 for the start of Rogue Wave's set. They had an angular, understated take on US alternative rock, veering between some alt-country stylings and quirkier Death Cab/ Wheat territory. The vocalist however wasn't great "live", and the tunes weren't as memorable as the atmosphere evoked. Promising, but some way short of the genuine article as yet.
Which of course were were about to see! Took a position on the floor, stage right, noting the big reflective cymbals onstage again! The 3-piece Surf, augmented by a guest keyboardist, sauntered casually onstage at 9.15 and broke into the New Order disco stomp of "High Speed Soul". However, no bass sound emanated from the speakers, so as Daniel tried frantically to fix it, Matt called a halt and rolled out an unscheduled solo "Blizzard Of '77" instead. Great save - and, technical problems solved, they parked "HS Soul" and went into "Happy Kid" instead.
Da Surf have been gradually turning the volume down of late; with new CD "Lucky" only 4 days old and initial listens proving it to be even more understated than the last one, it was no surprise really that this set turned out to be a lower-key, more considered affair than some previous Nada Surf shows. This be no bad thing, however; the sound, pindrop perfect, really allowed Matt's reined-in, conversational vocal style and confessional lovelorn lyrics to shine. It also meant that when the rock did rock, invariably in snatches of songs like "Happy Kid" and "Imaginary Friend", it was even more potent.
So, what of these so-say low-key numbers? Well, "Killians Red", not necessarily one of my faves, was utterly superb, soaring and sinister; "80 Windows" was, well, "80 Windows" ('nuff said); "Fruit Fly" was a sing-along delight ("if you all sing along, it'll sound even sillier," introduced Matt); "Inside Of Love" again featured the soulful audience sway-along; and the heartfelt ballad "Paper Boats" featured snatches of Echo And the Bunnymen's "Ocean Rain". Of the newies, set closer "See Those Bones" won the day, opening like a lamb, stripped back and coy, but gradually building to a lionseque roaring crescendo. But they all made a mighty impression "live" - this new CD is certainly going to be a sneaky grower...
After a swift 1 hour 15 minute set, encore "Stalemate" was as rock as it got tonight, the strident sing-along hook effortlessly morphing into the "Love Will Tear Us Apart" mid-section. Then Matt, as ever an open, engaging and occasionally very funny stage presence throughout, thanked the crew before a party-time finale of "Blankest Year" resulted in first the support band, then the front rows and finally anyone and everyone who fancied it joining them onstage. I sneaked up at the end to grab the set-list and join the throng to shake Matt's hand. He recognised me and greeted me with a, "hey man, what's up? Good to see you!". Facebook status mission accomplished!
Such a good set, even the lack of normal live favourites "Hyperspace" and "The Way You Wear Your Head" didn't detract from it, as we hit the road, enduring 9 sets of roadworks on the M4(!) and hitting home at 12.45. Another very special night from a very special band in Nada Surf!
Which of course were were about to see! Took a position on the floor, stage right, noting the big reflective cymbals onstage again! The 3-piece Surf, augmented by a guest keyboardist, sauntered casually onstage at 9.15 and broke into the New Order disco stomp of "High Speed Soul". However, no bass sound emanated from the speakers, so as Daniel tried frantically to fix it, Matt called a halt and rolled out an unscheduled solo "Blizzard Of '77" instead. Great save - and, technical problems solved, they parked "HS Soul" and went into "Happy Kid" instead.
Da Surf have been gradually turning the volume down of late; with new CD "Lucky" only 4 days old and initial listens proving it to be even more understated than the last one, it was no surprise really that this set turned out to be a lower-key, more considered affair than some previous Nada Surf shows. This be no bad thing, however; the sound, pindrop perfect, really allowed Matt's reined-in, conversational vocal style and confessional lovelorn lyrics to shine. It also meant that when the rock did rock, invariably in snatches of songs like "Happy Kid" and "Imaginary Friend", it was even more potent.
So, what of these so-say low-key numbers? Well, "Killians Red", not necessarily one of my faves, was utterly superb, soaring and sinister; "80 Windows" was, well, "80 Windows" ('nuff said); "Fruit Fly" was a sing-along delight ("if you all sing along, it'll sound even sillier," introduced Matt); "Inside Of Love" again featured the soulful audience sway-along; and the heartfelt ballad "Paper Boats" featured snatches of Echo And the Bunnymen's "Ocean Rain". Of the newies, set closer "See Those Bones" won the day, opening like a lamb, stripped back and coy, but gradually building to a lionseque roaring crescendo. But they all made a mighty impression "live" - this new CD is certainly going to be a sneaky grower...
After a swift 1 hour 15 minute set, encore "Stalemate" was as rock as it got tonight, the strident sing-along hook effortlessly morphing into the "Love Will Tear Us Apart" mid-section. Then Matt, as ever an open, engaging and occasionally very funny stage presence throughout, thanked the crew before a party-time finale of "Blankest Year" resulted in first the support band, then the front rows and finally anyone and everyone who fancied it joining them onstage. I sneaked up at the end to grab the set-list and join the throng to shake Matt's hand. He recognised me and greeted me with a, "hey man, what's up? Good to see you!". Facebook status mission accomplished!
Such a good set, even the lack of normal live favourites "Hyperspace" and "The Way You Wear Your Head" didn't detract from it, as we hit the road, enduring 9 sets of roadworks on the M4(!) and hitting home at 12.45. Another very special night from a very special band in Nada Surf!
741 BAND OF HORSES, The Cave Singers, Bristol Thekla, Monday 25 February 2008
Finally I get to do the "gig on a boat" thing and go to the Thekla, after many spurned opportunities! This was also to see rising stars Band Of Horses, who'd delivered 2 albums in short order, veering between alt and trad country of the dustiest, most stripped back variety, and occasional resonant and deliciously strident wall-of-noise US alt-rock. Big beards too, so I'm told. More contenders for the title of The New Grandaddy?
So anyway, I set sail for this one, parking up in the very conveniently placed car park and going on board the venue (!), turning down a bouncer's offer of £100 for my ticket, allegedly on behalf of a disappointed punter, for this sell-out show. You're not serious, surely?? It's a good venue, run-down and very rock'n'roll, about the size of the Fleece and with good high-roof acoustics and balcony, but definitely a boat! Got a position starboard-side for openers the Cave Singers, who did a very trad-country set of dusty lullabies, with the vocalist rocking a big beard (or so I thought at the time) and a trilby hat. "We're about 1/4 of the way through," he said before their last number. Funny...
It was appropriate that the gig was taking place on an old rusty trawler, as when the 6-piece Band Of Horses took the stage at 9.15 prompt, they looked like a gang of Pacific Longshoremen, all work shirts and huge beards (I've used "Amish Farmers" to describe Grandaddy before, and that wasn't far off here either!). Live, they definitely tended towards the dusty country side of their output, with the superslow burn of opener "Monsters" typical, although after "Is There A Ghost" (my favourite, a delicious Pale Saints-like wall of noise affair), a rock gig briefly threatened to break out...
No, this Band Of Horses were set to trot rather than gallop, with "No-One's Gonna Love You" a heart-melting set highlight, delivered with the Wayne Coyne-esque helium vocals of Ben Bridwell, sounding an octave too high for comfort, but making it work. The sing-along stomp of "The General Specific" ended a fine set and encore of 1 hour 15 minutes, by which time I was at the front and scrounging a set-list from burly keyboardist Ryan Munroe, who also shook my hand with his huge meaty paw. So, a fine evening, although they'll have to step up a gear "live" for the bigger venues that inevitably await. They're at the Shepherd's Bush Empire in July - we'll be there too, so we'll see!
So anyway, I set sail for this one, parking up in the very conveniently placed car park and going on board the venue (!), turning down a bouncer's offer of £100 for my ticket, allegedly on behalf of a disappointed punter, for this sell-out show. You're not serious, surely?? It's a good venue, run-down and very rock'n'roll, about the size of the Fleece and with good high-roof acoustics and balcony, but definitely a boat! Got a position starboard-side for openers the Cave Singers, who did a very trad-country set of dusty lullabies, with the vocalist rocking a big beard (or so I thought at the time) and a trilby hat. "We're about 1/4 of the way through," he said before their last number. Funny...
It was appropriate that the gig was taking place on an old rusty trawler, as when the 6-piece Band Of Horses took the stage at 9.15 prompt, they looked like a gang of Pacific Longshoremen, all work shirts and huge beards (I've used "Amish Farmers" to describe Grandaddy before, and that wasn't far off here either!). Live, they definitely tended towards the dusty country side of their output, with the superslow burn of opener "Monsters" typical, although after "Is There A Ghost" (my favourite, a delicious Pale Saints-like wall of noise affair), a rock gig briefly threatened to break out...
No, this Band Of Horses were set to trot rather than gallop, with "No-One's Gonna Love You" a heart-melting set highlight, delivered with the Wayne Coyne-esque helium vocals of Ben Bridwell, sounding an octave too high for comfort, but making it work. The sing-along stomp of "The General Specific" ended a fine set and encore of 1 hour 15 minutes, by which time I was at the front and scrounging a set-list from burly keyboardist Ryan Munroe, who also shook my hand with his huge meaty paw. So, a fine evening, although they'll have to step up a gear "live" for the bigger venues that inevitably await. They're at the Shepherd's Bush Empire in July - we'll be there too, so we'll see!
742 STIFF LITTLE FINGERS, Plus Support, Bristol Academy, Tuesday 11 March 2008
It's March, so it must be SLF at the Bristol Academy! This time I thought, oh sod it, why bother, can't be arsed, seen SLF so many times of late etc. etc., but when The Big Man phoned the week beforehand, I thought, oh sod it, why not? Thus it was that for the 4th year running, Rich and I took a trip to Bristol for some old school punk rock. This time it was the Big Man providing the Lauda-esque driving skills in high winds, for our annual "Mad March to Bristol". Got there in no time flat, getting a drink in the venue's back bar whilst the young and poor support played a noisy approximation of current punk, or whatever passes for it these days. Oh, if only The Men They Couldn't Hang, slated to support later in the tour, were doing all the dates...
Two of the many good things about a SLF gig are that (1) me and the Big Man feel young! and (2) it reminds us both that we're in pretty good working order for our age, as half the old punk rockers in this somewhat disappointing turnout seem fit to drop! The other half have brought their kids along, which is nice. SLF fans, the Next Generation...
Another good thing is the best intro music around, the raucous "Guitar And Drum" anthem, soliciting loud "doodle-i-doo"s from us in our vantage point on the floor, stage left. Jake and the boys joined us thereafter, bursting into life with "Roots Radicals Rockers and Reggae" and a superb "Just Fade Away", sorting the initially thin sound out well. Thereafter it was the usual SLF experience; Jake's banter veering from political comment ("my [American] wife said she wants to vote for Hilary Clinton as it'd be nice to have a woman in charge for a change! I had to sit her down and tell her about one Margaret Thatcher") to hero-worship ("I may have had my 50th birthday a few weeks ago, but Joe Strummer's voice still makes my neck hairs stand on end"), and the band, superbly marshalled by angular bassist Ali McMordie, defying the years to deliver a strident set of old school punk rock, you know, the type that still had tunes in and something relevant to say.
"Nobody's Hero" and "Tin Soldiers" (still their best song) were set standouts - encores of a sinuous "Johnny Was" and "Alternative Ulster" ("number 10 in "Classic Rock" magazine's Best British Rock Anthems", quoth Jake!) were the icing on the cake. Another great SLF night - see you next March, no doubt...!
Two of the many good things about a SLF gig are that (1) me and the Big Man feel young! and (2) it reminds us both that we're in pretty good working order for our age, as half the old punk rockers in this somewhat disappointing turnout seem fit to drop! The other half have brought their kids along, which is nice. SLF fans, the Next Generation...
Another good thing is the best intro music around, the raucous "Guitar And Drum" anthem, soliciting loud "doodle-i-doo"s from us in our vantage point on the floor, stage left. Jake and the boys joined us thereafter, bursting into life with "Roots Radicals Rockers and Reggae" and a superb "Just Fade Away", sorting the initially thin sound out well. Thereafter it was the usual SLF experience; Jake's banter veering from political comment ("my [American] wife said she wants to vote for Hilary Clinton as it'd be nice to have a woman in charge for a change! I had to sit her down and tell her about one Margaret Thatcher") to hero-worship ("I may have had my 50th birthday a few weeks ago, but Joe Strummer's voice still makes my neck hairs stand on end"), and the band, superbly marshalled by angular bassist Ali McMordie, defying the years to deliver a strident set of old school punk rock, you know, the type that still had tunes in and something relevant to say.
"Nobody's Hero" and "Tin Soldiers" (still their best song) were set standouts - encores of a sinuous "Johnny Was" and "Alternative Ulster" ("number 10 in "Classic Rock" magazine's Best British Rock Anthems", quoth Jake!) were the icing on the cake. Another great SLF night - see you next March, no doubt...!
743 THE AUTOMATIC, Viva Machine, Gloucester Guildhall Arts Centre, Thursday 3 April 2008
After this lot of Welsh reprobates blew the doors off with their mighty performance on last year's NME tour, we were keen to see if this was a real live act to hang your hat on, or whether that was a one-off and they just seemed that good due to poor company (The View!). So Rach spotted this tour, promoting a forthcoming album and shaking down new tunes, and we booked tix eagerly!
Headed off at 7.30 and parked up round the corner from this easier-to-find-than-I-remembered venue, getting in just as Viva Machine took the stage. Purveyors of an epic sound with some chuntering of 80's-like beats, they were a weird collision of Muse and the Psychedelic Furs. Good thoughtful song construction though, from a promising lot...
Hung out in the corridor of this Arts Centre venue, checking out the students' paintings, then took a position stage left for the Automatic, who strolled casually onstage with the minimum of fuss, and roared into a powerful, strident newie. This set the tone for the set; a newie, an oldie, a newie, an oldie! However, whereas their first CD "Not Accepted Anywhere", good though it was, suffered from a lack of variation or deviation from their bludgeoning terrace chant chorus and hard rock stylings, the new material showed some variation, maturity and progression, whilst still being firmly welded onto the Automatic template, and shone as a consequence.
And "live", these guys know how to put on a performance. Their Seafood-meets-Therapy? jagged strident hard rock really takes flight, and it was disappointing that this sell-out crowd didn't receive them with the enthusiasm they deserved. "Monster" (casually thrown in, 4th number in, with the brilliant and dismissive intro of, "here's an obscure oldie") apart, the crowd reaction was flat. Nevertheless, The Automatic rocked on with power and passion, augmented by new member Paul Mullen, replacing the jumpy about for no reason Pennie to great effect.
The handclapping, sing-along "Raoul" preceded a couple of excellent newies, one of which featured some fine guitar interplay and a trademark splendid hook of "All Change". After an hour of pounding powerful rock they were brought back for an unexpected (so it seemed) encore of another new number, to cap a damn fine set. So, definitely not a one-off; here's a band fully deserving of the prefix "The Mighty..." and possibly the accolade of the Best Welsh Band since, ooh, ever...! This new CD is going to be one heck of a listen!
Headed off at 7.30 and parked up round the corner from this easier-to-find-than-I-remembered venue, getting in just as Viva Machine took the stage. Purveyors of an epic sound with some chuntering of 80's-like beats, they were a weird collision of Muse and the Psychedelic Furs. Good thoughtful song construction though, from a promising lot...
Hung out in the corridor of this Arts Centre venue, checking out the students' paintings, then took a position stage left for the Automatic, who strolled casually onstage with the minimum of fuss, and roared into a powerful, strident newie. This set the tone for the set; a newie, an oldie, a newie, an oldie! However, whereas their first CD "Not Accepted Anywhere", good though it was, suffered from a lack of variation or deviation from their bludgeoning terrace chant chorus and hard rock stylings, the new material showed some variation, maturity and progression, whilst still being firmly welded onto the Automatic template, and shone as a consequence.
And "live", these guys know how to put on a performance. Their Seafood-meets-Therapy? jagged strident hard rock really takes flight, and it was disappointing that this sell-out crowd didn't receive them with the enthusiasm they deserved. "Monster" (casually thrown in, 4th number in, with the brilliant and dismissive intro of, "here's an obscure oldie") apart, the crowd reaction was flat. Nevertheless, The Automatic rocked on with power and passion, augmented by new member Paul Mullen, replacing the jumpy about for no reason Pennie to great effect.
The handclapping, sing-along "Raoul" preceded a couple of excellent newies, one of which featured some fine guitar interplay and a trademark splendid hook of "All Change". After an hour of pounding powerful rock they were brought back for an unexpected (so it seemed) encore of another new number, to cap a damn fine set. So, definitely not a one-off; here's a band fully deserving of the prefix "The Mighty..." and possibly the accolade of the Best Welsh Band since, ooh, ever...! This new CD is going to be one heck of a listen!
Tuesday, 17 November 2009
744 BUFFALO TOM, THE FIGGS, The Paradise, Boston Massachusetts, MA USA, Friday 25 April 2008
I'd flown over for the Big Dipper reunion show (see gig 745), so this one was a happy coincidence! Amazingly, I'd not seen Mike Gents' "day job" band before, so I determined to get there early and catch their set. However, the "T" journey took over an hour, which left me sweating on getting there for the scheduled 9 pm start! Luckily, as I'd discovered, bumping into new Figg Scott Janovitz on my arrival at 2 minutes to 9 (!), that they'd delayed their set. Whew! Chatted to SJano, the former Dragstrip Courage mainman who was off later that evening to play in the WBCN Rumble Finals with his new band The Great Bandini, and also barman Bill Guerra, former Bleu and Senor Happy guitarist, before Gent led the Figgs on at 9.15.
I'd picked up on the prolific Figgs before even coming to Boston, loving the jumpabout modish pop of their "Low Fi At Society High" CD. Since then they'd cranked out about a million or so CDs, some great, some slightly less so, and Gent had marked time with the more Stones-ish rock stomp of The Gentlemen, along with the back row of the wonderful Gravel Pit. The Figgs, however, were a solid and established proposition "live", and put on an energetic and edgy performance. Although a lot of their set material was more low-key than I'd prefer, when they rocked out they did so with a vim and vigour few can match. A bit of "Hot Stove All Star" reprise was enacted as Bill Janovitz joined Gent onstage for a rocking stomp through "I Can Feel The Fire", which fired the set towards a roaring climax, with "Regional Hits" and "Static/Disco", allowing Gent to introduce bandmates Pete Donnelly, a brilliant bassist, and elastic limbed hyper drummer Pete Hayes.
In the interval I ran into Lucky Jackson, an enthusiastic Mike Gill, and also had a fun conversation with "mine host" Corin Ashley's friend Corey, who upon realising I was from the UK told me all about his friend's recent trip, not realising I was staying with said friend!
Took as best a position as I could in this sell-out and very enthusiastic home-town crowd for Buffalo Tom. Kicking off at 10.15 with "Treehouse", "Summer" and a jagged, strident "Velvet Roof", they delivered an absolutely superb home-town performance of power, bleeding-raw passion and intensity. In contrast to their Islington show last December, they were "on it" from the outset, with as healthy a performance as I've seen them deliver. An early "Taillights Fade" bled with emotion, "Larry" was brilliant as ever, and a surprising "When You Discover" was a strident, passionate highlight.
I chatted to Pete Hayes at the merch stand at the end of the Tom's set, but back in for encores "Tangerine" and "Soda Jerk", capping a supreme 1 1/2 hour set. Grabbed a taxi back after a great gig... little did I know it would only be a small starter compared to tomorrow night's main course...
I'd picked up on the prolific Figgs before even coming to Boston, loving the jumpabout modish pop of their "Low Fi At Society High" CD. Since then they'd cranked out about a million or so CDs, some great, some slightly less so, and Gent had marked time with the more Stones-ish rock stomp of The Gentlemen, along with the back row of the wonderful Gravel Pit. The Figgs, however, were a solid and established proposition "live", and put on an energetic and edgy performance. Although a lot of their set material was more low-key than I'd prefer, when they rocked out they did so with a vim and vigour few can match. A bit of "Hot Stove All Star" reprise was enacted as Bill Janovitz joined Gent onstage for a rocking stomp through "I Can Feel The Fire", which fired the set towards a roaring climax, with "Regional Hits" and "Static/Disco", allowing Gent to introduce bandmates Pete Donnelly, a brilliant bassist, and elastic limbed hyper drummer Pete Hayes.
In the interval I ran into Lucky Jackson, an enthusiastic Mike Gill, and also had a fun conversation with "mine host" Corin Ashley's friend Corey, who upon realising I was from the UK told me all about his friend's recent trip, not realising I was staying with said friend!
Took as best a position as I could in this sell-out and very enthusiastic home-town crowd for Buffalo Tom. Kicking off at 10.15 with "Treehouse", "Summer" and a jagged, strident "Velvet Roof", they delivered an absolutely superb home-town performance of power, bleeding-raw passion and intensity. In contrast to their Islington show last December, they were "on it" from the outset, with as healthy a performance as I've seen them deliver. An early "Taillights Fade" bled with emotion, "Larry" was brilliant as ever, and a surprising "When You Discover" was a strident, passionate highlight.
I chatted to Pete Hayes at the merch stand at the end of the Tom's set, but back in for encores "Tangerine" and "Soda Jerk", capping a supreme 1 1/2 hour set. Grabbed a taxi back after a great gig... little did I know it would only be a small starter compared to tomorrow night's main course...
745 BIG DIPPER, Great Plains, Paper Thin Stages, Middle East Downstairs, Cambridge, Massachusetts MA USA, Saturday 26 April 2008
Hmm, how to put this adequately into words? Not sure that I can, apart from to recount the facts. Big Dipper ARE my favourite band of all time, and this gig was the sole reason for this trip (yesterday's gig 744 being a happy coincidence), indeed the only reason I'd fly transatlantic without Rachel and Logan for this length of time. The Dipper blazed a brief incandescent trail of brilliance in the late 80's/ early 90's before sinking under the weight of major label indifference, the band disappearing to get "proper" jobs. I'd maintained a correspondence with guitarist Gary Waleik which happily morphed from musician/ fan admiration, to a friendship of two old dads talking about their kids. So when I mailed him last Summer to inform him of Logan's arrival, the last thing I expected was to be told of a planned Big Dipper reunion tour! Rachel, bless her, gave me "permission to fly" as a Christmas present, and I'd lived a parsimonious existence for 4 months to scrape together the ackers to pay for this mad venture! Well, it's The Dipper, right? The root cause of my love for Boston Rock, harmony, melody, quirky intelligence and all the things I love about this thing called rock!
Thus it was that I was on the "T" this sunny evening, hitting the Middle East in double quick time from my graciously provided digs (thanks Corin!) and grabbing a booth to have some pre-gig grub, alone, I'd presumed. Fate, however, had other plans, as Big Dipper vocalist Bill Goffrier chanced by, I introduced myself, he said, "glad you could make it! You here on your own? Want some company?" and that was that. What do you say when the lead singer of your all time favourite band asks YOU if YOU want some dinner company? Hell yeah! So I spent an hour or so over a chicken sandwich and an (eventually ordered!) lamb kebab with Bill and various other peeps, including Gary, another fan from Kansas, and the Dipper's roadie, who was as psyched to be here as I was. Bill, who is allegedly 57(!) was wry and humorous dinner company, enjoying recounting how this week's gigs had been a reliving of his adolescence and had reverted him from a respected college professor to a sexist grunting rock pig! Gary was as laid-back as ever, giving an interesting insight into my good friend EdV's (ultimately unsuccessful) attempts to get his band The Gravel Pit to support tonight. Now THAT would have been something...!
Eventually popped downstairs to the Middle East's larger room for the sold-out but quiet early doors show. The Red Sox were blowing a Buchholz gem in the late innings against Tampa on the big screen by the bar - I watched a bit of that before post-rock support Paper Thin Stages came on at 9. Gary's idea, this, indulging his more idiosyncratic experimental bent - this trio of jazz-like noodlers covered tracks from the Dipper's nevertheless wonderful major label white elephant CD "Slam"! Actually, it wasn't the carcrash I'd anticipated after checking out their freeform originals on their MySpace site - at least I could recognise the songs they played (all 3 of them - "Another Life", "All The Way From Memphis" and "Love Barge"), once they'd gotten going...
I watched the final outs of the Red Sox loss, then took a position near the stage for main support, Ohio's Great Plains. Apparently a band of similar vintage to The Dipper, they'd worn nowhere near as well either personally or musically, as they kicked off a rocking but nondescript pre-grunge US alt rock noise. Kind of like Superchunk, only without the tunes... Took a walk during their set, bumping into local hero and huge Dipper fan Ad Frank in the process, and also the ubiquitous Mr. Pete Stone, who I again saw as I took my spot right down the front - "The Peach" had wangled his way onto the family section, immediate stage left!
So, The Dipper finally joined us just after 11, introduced onstage by my roadie dinner friend, which must have made his day/week/year/life! No messing, straight into the angular, jagged "Guitar Named Desire", the taut, hyper new wave rhythms at least starting me off dancing, even if no-one else did, and the boys threw a couple of new verses into this largely instrumental number for good measure! Then the thrilling rush of debut single "Faith Healer", 22 years old but fresh as a daisy, and we were away.
"Thanks everyone for coming," said Bill after that number, then said DIRECTLY to me down the front, "I think you win the prize for coming the furthest!" Incredible - then "Life Inside The Cemetery", the standout track from "Slam" delivered faithfully with to-die-for tune and strident hook. An early highlight, but even better was to come as 2 numbers later "The King", my favourite Dipper song - hell, probably my favourite song EVER! - was delivered perfectly, a huge slice of aural heaven and the reason I'd worn my Elvis shirt!
They just kept coming - "Edith" ("it's time for the kid to sing one," said Bill as drummer Jeff took lead vocal chores), a wonderful "Bonnie" (slowing the tempo but not the mood, with that delicious middle eight, that just sounds like home, delivered note-perfectly by Gary), a perfect-for-the-occasion "All Going Out Together" ("tonight's the big night," indeed!), all songs I know better than I know myself, songs I dream of, songs I never thought I'd hear "live" again, dreams made reality tonight. I could probably talk about every single number at length - suffice to say EVERY one was a winner, delivered with honesty, humour, talent, passion and care by the band - Bill, rolling back the years with an angular, tense, energetic performance; Gary, the rock at the heart of the Dipper; Steve, extraordinarily tall, a looming presence; and "The Kid", rock steady at the back. The set just flew by on a haze of brilliance; in fact, so swept away by it was I, that I didn't realise until the following morning that I'd been bashing my knee on the stage so hard while dancing that I had a huge bruise! Once again; harsh and shiny, colourful and caustic, the set was magnificent and left my ears buzzing for days.
But then the encores; following a breathless "Making Plans For Bison", Bill asked if there was any fertile virgins in the house, to sing backing vocals on the Byrds-esque drone of "A Song To Be Beautiful", and invited anyone who fancied joining them onstage! Well, I decided to break my onstage rule, and The Dipper became the second band I'd danced to onstage, both times at this Middle East venue! Amazing! The stage cleared thereafter, and Bill (who'd been talking to me throughout the set from the stage) finally brought this renaissance, this resurrection, to a close with a stomping destruction of Wings' "Jet". This wasn't just a "great gig" - even the phrase "Best Gig Ever" sounds trite and fails to do it justice. This was an EVENT, a LANDMARK in my life, like my Wedding day to Rachel or seeing my children born. Yeah, THAT important.
So naturally I didn't want the night to end, and hung around for pix and mutual congratulations. Bill said, "you inspire us!" which was lovely, and Gary and I agreed that we'd come full circle in our friendship. Taxi back after an awesome, amazing evening, then on the plane early the next morning, elated and vindicated!
Thus it was that I was on the "T" this sunny evening, hitting the Middle East in double quick time from my graciously provided digs (thanks Corin!) and grabbing a booth to have some pre-gig grub, alone, I'd presumed. Fate, however, had other plans, as Big Dipper vocalist Bill Goffrier chanced by, I introduced myself, he said, "glad you could make it! You here on your own? Want some company?" and that was that. What do you say when the lead singer of your all time favourite band asks YOU if YOU want some dinner company? Hell yeah! So I spent an hour or so over a chicken sandwich and an (eventually ordered!) lamb kebab with Bill and various other peeps, including Gary, another fan from Kansas, and the Dipper's roadie, who was as psyched to be here as I was. Bill, who is allegedly 57(!) was wry and humorous dinner company, enjoying recounting how this week's gigs had been a reliving of his adolescence and had reverted him from a respected college professor to a sexist grunting rock pig! Gary was as laid-back as ever, giving an interesting insight into my good friend EdV's (ultimately unsuccessful) attempts to get his band The Gravel Pit to support tonight. Now THAT would have been something...!
Eventually popped downstairs to the Middle East's larger room for the sold-out but quiet early doors show. The Red Sox were blowing a Buchholz gem in the late innings against Tampa on the big screen by the bar - I watched a bit of that before post-rock support Paper Thin Stages came on at 9. Gary's idea, this, indulging his more idiosyncratic experimental bent - this trio of jazz-like noodlers covered tracks from the Dipper's nevertheless wonderful major label white elephant CD "Slam"! Actually, it wasn't the carcrash I'd anticipated after checking out their freeform originals on their MySpace site - at least I could recognise the songs they played (all 3 of them - "Another Life", "All The Way From Memphis" and "Love Barge"), once they'd gotten going...
I watched the final outs of the Red Sox loss, then took a position near the stage for main support, Ohio's Great Plains. Apparently a band of similar vintage to The Dipper, they'd worn nowhere near as well either personally or musically, as they kicked off a rocking but nondescript pre-grunge US alt rock noise. Kind of like Superchunk, only without the tunes... Took a walk during their set, bumping into local hero and huge Dipper fan Ad Frank in the process, and also the ubiquitous Mr. Pete Stone, who I again saw as I took my spot right down the front - "The Peach" had wangled his way onto the family section, immediate stage left!
So, The Dipper finally joined us just after 11, introduced onstage by my roadie dinner friend, which must have made his day/week/year/life! No messing, straight into the angular, jagged "Guitar Named Desire", the taut, hyper new wave rhythms at least starting me off dancing, even if no-one else did, and the boys threw a couple of new verses into this largely instrumental number for good measure! Then the thrilling rush of debut single "Faith Healer", 22 years old but fresh as a daisy, and we were away.
"Thanks everyone for coming," said Bill after that number, then said DIRECTLY to me down the front, "I think you win the prize for coming the furthest!" Incredible - then "Life Inside The Cemetery", the standout track from "Slam" delivered faithfully with to-die-for tune and strident hook. An early highlight, but even better was to come as 2 numbers later "The King", my favourite Dipper song - hell, probably my favourite song EVER! - was delivered perfectly, a huge slice of aural heaven and the reason I'd worn my Elvis shirt!
They just kept coming - "Edith" ("it's time for the kid to sing one," said Bill as drummer Jeff took lead vocal chores), a wonderful "Bonnie" (slowing the tempo but not the mood, with that delicious middle eight, that just sounds like home, delivered note-perfectly by Gary), a perfect-for-the-occasion "All Going Out Together" ("tonight's the big night," indeed!), all songs I know better than I know myself, songs I dream of, songs I never thought I'd hear "live" again, dreams made reality tonight. I could probably talk about every single number at length - suffice to say EVERY one was a winner, delivered with honesty, humour, talent, passion and care by the band - Bill, rolling back the years with an angular, tense, energetic performance; Gary, the rock at the heart of the Dipper; Steve, extraordinarily tall, a looming presence; and "The Kid", rock steady at the back. The set just flew by on a haze of brilliance; in fact, so swept away by it was I, that I didn't realise until the following morning that I'd been bashing my knee on the stage so hard while dancing that I had a huge bruise! Once again; harsh and shiny, colourful and caustic, the set was magnificent and left my ears buzzing for days.
But then the encores; following a breathless "Making Plans For Bison", Bill asked if there was any fertile virgins in the house, to sing backing vocals on the Byrds-esque drone of "A Song To Be Beautiful", and invited anyone who fancied joining them onstage! Well, I decided to break my onstage rule, and The Dipper became the second band I'd danced to onstage, both times at this Middle East venue! Amazing! The stage cleared thereafter, and Bill (who'd been talking to me throughout the set from the stage) finally brought this renaissance, this resurrection, to a close with a stomping destruction of Wings' "Jet". This wasn't just a "great gig" - even the phrase "Best Gig Ever" sounds trite and fails to do it justice. This was an EVENT, a LANDMARK in my life, like my Wedding day to Rachel or seeing my children born. Yeah, THAT important.
So naturally I didn't want the night to end, and hung around for pix and mutual congratulations. Bill said, "you inspire us!" which was lovely, and Gary and I agreed that we'd come full circle in our friendship. Taxi back after an awesome, amazing evening, then on the plane early the next morning, elated and vindicated!
746 BUSWELL, THE SHUDDERS, Swindon Wharf Green, Sunday 4 May 2008
Well, as the picture to the left signifies, this is Logan's first ever gig, so this one also escapes my "local band" filter to go onto this blog! This one, the initiative of Frequency mainman Steve Causer, was a 4 band showcase on a Sunday afternoon, in Wharf Green, a relatively new development in Swindon town centre with an open area and a big video screen!
So, a family outing, parking up and wandering over in the drizzle just in time to miss Acoustic Taxi and The Paddocks, but in time to catch Tim and Danny's band The Shudders and their 1/2 hour set at 1/4 to 2. Chased Logan around down the front as they played their "pirate folk", a term which Tim hates but which they've been saddled with, which veers between slower folksy stuff a la The Fat Lady Sings, and harder rocking pop. This, the third time we'd seen them, was easily their best yet, the band sounding tighter, and Danny, whilst still understated, more confident on vocals. Logan really seemed to enjoy it, in between toddling over to the barriers (down the front - that's my boy!) and sitting and bopping on daddy's shoulders.
Chilled and chatted during Buswell's more understated, female led bedsit pop. Stylish and pretty but not my thing, I found it a little innocuous and Logan's attention wandered towards the big screen, so we headed home after their set. Logan's first gig, and only 10 months old!
So, a family outing, parking up and wandering over in the drizzle just in time to miss Acoustic Taxi and The Paddocks, but in time to catch Tim and Danny's band The Shudders and their 1/2 hour set at 1/4 to 2. Chased Logan around down the front as they played their "pirate folk", a term which Tim hates but which they've been saddled with, which veers between slower folksy stuff a la The Fat Lady Sings, and harder rocking pop. This, the third time we'd seen them, was easily their best yet, the band sounding tighter, and Danny, whilst still understated, more confident on vocals. Logan really seemed to enjoy it, in between toddling over to the barriers (down the front - that's my boy!) and sitting and bopping on daddy's shoulders.
Chilled and chatted during Buswell's more understated, female led bedsit pop. Stylish and pretty but not my thing, I found it a little innocuous and Logan's attention wandered towards the big screen, so we headed home after their set. Logan's first gig, and only 10 months old!
Friday, 13 November 2009
747 LONGWAVE, Kid Captain, Terra Diablo, London Camden "Barfly", Saturday 10 May 2008
Off to see Longwave in the middle of a heatwave, so wore shorts for this one! I'd been a fan of this young NYC combo since 2003, picking up on their "Everywhere You Turn" single on MTV2 during my convalescence, finding it a post-Strokes mesh of new wavey roadrunner groove and studied New York street cool. The 2 albums I'd picked up since underlined that, along with more slower burn expansive alt-rock, a la Flaming Lips or Wheat. So, a good band then! However, they'd never been over to the UK during their major label incumbency, but now, unsigned, here they are!
So Tim, Penny and myself set off at 6 and enjoyed a sunny run up, parking in Camden at 8 and nosing around the market before going into the venue. Access had changed since my last visit and we also took the wrong flight of stairs to get to this upstairs venue. D'oh! Wandered in as hairy young Scots combo Terra Diablo were kicking off their enthusiastically played but dated Pearl Jam style grunge rock. The other support, Kid Captain, were however a considerably more interesting proposition; a painfully young lot and featuring a vocalist with vertical hair like something off "There's Something About Mary", they nevertheless played an impressive and snappy set of bright 90's influenced poppy rock, midway between the jagged atmospherics of Kitchens Of Distinction and the edgy jangle of Marion. The vocalist had a nice lilting voice, as if trying to nail one octave higher than appropriate, and overall they left a good impression.
Longwave set up then kicked off their set at 10 to 10, in front of a disappointingly sparse crowd in this small venue. I took position at the front, centre stage, determined to shake a leg to their set of largely new material. They were very good "live", veering between the mid-paced intelligent US indie rock of the post-"Soft Bulletin" variety, all wide open space and occasional jagged riffs. They introduced themselves after a couple or so numbers as, "Longwave, from New York City", so I had to ask, "Yankees or Mets?" Shannon, the vocalist, tried to deflect the question but admitted he was a Mets fan and the drummer a Yankees fan! "Wake Me When It's Over", the lead track from 2003's "The Strangest Things" CD was a delicious delight, its' open easy melody recalling Echo And The Bunnymen (a point I made to Shannon afterwards, who admitted he'd only bought a couple of EATB CDs because people kept making the same comparison!). "Everywhere You Turn" got me rocking with its cool groove; this of course was after the band had had an argument with the soundman who wanted to cut the set short, Shannon's response being, "you've gotta be kidding me, after all the shit we've put up with to play this venue - we've been promised 45 minutes and by my watch we've got 10 left - and we're going to play it!"
So a tense set rounded off, after which I snatched some words with the band (after having had an altercation with the soundman myself, for daring to shout for an encore!) and got my set-list signed. Shannon was a nice guy, thanking us for driving up and telling me he used to play with my Boston faves The Sheila Divine "all the time in New York!" So Longwave, with an impressive clutch of new songs "in the can", are probably the world's best unsigned band right now. Let's hope that someone signs them - soon!
So Tim, Penny and myself set off at 6 and enjoyed a sunny run up, parking in Camden at 8 and nosing around the market before going into the venue. Access had changed since my last visit and we also took the wrong flight of stairs to get to this upstairs venue. D'oh! Wandered in as hairy young Scots combo Terra Diablo were kicking off their enthusiastically played but dated Pearl Jam style grunge rock. The other support, Kid Captain, were however a considerably more interesting proposition; a painfully young lot and featuring a vocalist with vertical hair like something off "There's Something About Mary", they nevertheless played an impressive and snappy set of bright 90's influenced poppy rock, midway between the jagged atmospherics of Kitchens Of Distinction and the edgy jangle of Marion. The vocalist had a nice lilting voice, as if trying to nail one octave higher than appropriate, and overall they left a good impression.
Longwave set up then kicked off their set at 10 to 10, in front of a disappointingly sparse crowd in this small venue. I took position at the front, centre stage, determined to shake a leg to their set of largely new material. They were very good "live", veering between the mid-paced intelligent US indie rock of the post-"Soft Bulletin" variety, all wide open space and occasional jagged riffs. They introduced themselves after a couple or so numbers as, "Longwave, from New York City", so I had to ask, "Yankees or Mets?" Shannon, the vocalist, tried to deflect the question but admitted he was a Mets fan and the drummer a Yankees fan! "Wake Me When It's Over", the lead track from 2003's "The Strangest Things" CD was a delicious delight, its' open easy melody recalling Echo And The Bunnymen (a point I made to Shannon afterwards, who admitted he'd only bought a couple of EATB CDs because people kept making the same comparison!). "Everywhere You Turn" got me rocking with its cool groove; this of course was after the band had had an argument with the soundman who wanted to cut the set short, Shannon's response being, "you've gotta be kidding me, after all the shit we've put up with to play this venue - we've been promised 45 minutes and by my watch we've got 10 left - and we're going to play it!"
So a tense set rounded off, after which I snatched some words with the band (after having had an altercation with the soundman myself, for daring to shout for an encore!) and got my set-list signed. Shannon was a nice guy, thanking us for driving up and telling me he used to play with my Boston faves The Sheila Divine "all the time in New York!" So Longwave, with an impressive clutch of new songs "in the can", are probably the world's best unsigned band right now. Let's hope that someone signs them - soon!
748 THE YOUNG REPUBLIC, Turner Cody, The Shudders, Swindon Riff's Bar, Tuesday 3 June 2008
Amazingly, this was my first ever gig at Swindon's alleged "best venue", a rock pub in the middle of nowhere, a couple of miles out of town. Tim and Danny's improving band The Shudders were the main persuader, but Tim was also raving about the headliners, Nashville's The Young Republic. So why not?
Left after putting Logan to bed, and got to the venue at the end of The Shudders' soundcheck, Tim complaining about the unnecessarily long Turner Cody check. Socialised awhile before The Shudders came on at 9 to friends and family. Nevertheless, they're really coming along, and their jangle pop, now more reminiscent of 80's bands such as the Chesterfields, is becoming more familiar, upbeat and jolly. Vocalist Danny, despite still being low-key, is getting more confident each time out and benefitting from the experience of Tim, Alan and Liam's years of playing together. An enjoyable half-hour!
The reason for Brooklyn singer-songwriter Turner Cody's fiddly and overlong soundcheck became apparent - 3 Swindon fans had contacted him and offered to be his band for the night! So, duly christened "Mad Cow", they added a bar-room blues vibe to Cody's wordy, Dylanesque offerings. A couple of solo numbers and some painfully unfunny stories from this rambling and possibly pissed-up troubadour also featured, in an "interesting" set!
The Young Republic kicked off at 10.30 - a young 6 piece headed by intense Asian vocalist Julian Saponti, they started with some well-played 60's psychedelia/ alt-Country pop, a la Magic Numbers, bright, breezy and occasionally catchy. However, after a cover of Dylan's "You Ain't Going Nowhere" they diverted into trad country, doo-wop and slow blues which was frankly dull. I was just going to write them off and go home, however they then hit the "loud" button and ended the set with some thrilling noisy rock, including a deliciously creepy version of Dylan's "Isis", young Julian strutting and gesticulating wildly, and putting heart and soul into his performance. A great end to an annoying, schizophrenic and variable set, a point I made to Julian afterwards, who said, "I can't keep that (rock) up all the time, I'm not Meat Loaf!" Fair point, I suppose...
Left after putting Logan to bed, and got to the venue at the end of The Shudders' soundcheck, Tim complaining about the unnecessarily long Turner Cody check. Socialised awhile before The Shudders came on at 9 to friends and family. Nevertheless, they're really coming along, and their jangle pop, now more reminiscent of 80's bands such as the Chesterfields, is becoming more familiar, upbeat and jolly. Vocalist Danny, despite still being low-key, is getting more confident each time out and benefitting from the experience of Tim, Alan and Liam's years of playing together. An enjoyable half-hour!
The reason for Brooklyn singer-songwriter Turner Cody's fiddly and overlong soundcheck became apparent - 3 Swindon fans had contacted him and offered to be his band for the night! So, duly christened "Mad Cow", they added a bar-room blues vibe to Cody's wordy, Dylanesque offerings. A couple of solo numbers and some painfully unfunny stories from this rambling and possibly pissed-up troubadour also featured, in an "interesting" set!
The Young Republic kicked off at 10.30 - a young 6 piece headed by intense Asian vocalist Julian Saponti, they started with some well-played 60's psychedelia/ alt-Country pop, a la Magic Numbers, bright, breezy and occasionally catchy. However, after a cover of Dylan's "You Ain't Going Nowhere" they diverted into trad country, doo-wop and slow blues which was frankly dull. I was just going to write them off and go home, however they then hit the "loud" button and ended the set with some thrilling noisy rock, including a deliciously creepy version of Dylan's "Isis", young Julian strutting and gesticulating wildly, and putting heart and soul into his performance. A great end to an annoying, schizophrenic and variable set, a point I made to Julian afterwards, who said, "I can't keep that (rock) up all the time, I'm not Meat Loaf!" Fair point, I suppose...
Thursday, 12 November 2009
749 THE NATIONAL, Caroline Martin, Birmingham Carling Academy, Monday 30 June 2008
Did I say, "never again?" My heart sank when The National announced only 2 post-Glastonbury dates, in Leeds and at this impossible-to-find venue in Birmingham. Which would win out - my revulsion towards the possibility of getting lost for an hour around Birmingham city centre again, or my desire to once again experience the live power of this deliciously seductive new American band?
Well, rock won out (of course), so, armed with copious maps and new RAC-supplied directions, I set off at 6.30, running into trouble on the M5, seemingly due to a recently-cleared obstruction, and getting off at Junction 3 at 10 to 8. The directions this time took me off the main drag into town at the Jewellery Quarter, then around the top, under a large underpass and lo and behold, there's the gig! So, parked up and in by 20 past 8, and downstairs for the first time in this large Carling venue, hitting the dancefloor as folkie Caroline Martin was finishing off her inoffensive but innocuous set.
Milled around and took a spot stage left for The National's appearance at 9. Since their Empire set last November, they've become a firm in-car stereo favourite of mine, and I've tracked down their extensive back catalogue for more of their introspective yet anthemic, morose yet euphoric, glacially cool yet still prone to episodes of wild unhinged abandon, US alt-rock. Recalling the power of that Empire performance, my hopes were perhaps unfairly high, yet from the outset I was not to be disappointed. The 8-piece band, expanded "live" to include a 2-man horn section and extra guitarist, were on top form from the start, dishing up slow-burn yet emotive atmospheric mood music, which built like steam, gushing forth into jagged rolling crescendos of crashing noise. The uniquely tonsilled Matt Berenger, his voice dark rich like Belgian chocolate, was the visual focal point throughout, throwing shapes and physically enacting this set, veins and sinews bulging from his neck as he roared the epic denouements to songs such as "Secret Meeting", the heart-tugging "Slow Show" and a frankly amazing rendition of "Squalor Victoria".
The National were brilliant. A shame the crowd didn't respond in kind - by no means sold out, they were just the enthusiastic side of indifferent. I was jigging around from my position of 4 or 5 rows back, and I didn't see anyone else doing that until the end! Damn shame.
The "Boxer" double salvo "Mistaken For Strangers" and "Fake Empire" capped the set, then an encore featuring a Caroline Martin duet cover was topped by easily their best song, "Mr. November", an anthemic epic rocker of early U2/ Dear Leader proportions, Matt once again giving it full effort, throwing himself into the front rows, and giving this superb set the ending it deserved.
So, a great night, only partly marred by a car park pay-mare (a 20 minute queue!), but made better by being able to find the venue this time around. You never know, I might be back here again!
Well, rock won out (of course), so, armed with copious maps and new RAC-supplied directions, I set off at 6.30, running into trouble on the M5, seemingly due to a recently-cleared obstruction, and getting off at Junction 3 at 10 to 8. The directions this time took me off the main drag into town at the Jewellery Quarter, then around the top, under a large underpass and lo and behold, there's the gig! So, parked up and in by 20 past 8, and downstairs for the first time in this large Carling venue, hitting the dancefloor as folkie Caroline Martin was finishing off her inoffensive but innocuous set.
Milled around and took a spot stage left for The National's appearance at 9. Since their Empire set last November, they've become a firm in-car stereo favourite of mine, and I've tracked down their extensive back catalogue for more of their introspective yet anthemic, morose yet euphoric, glacially cool yet still prone to episodes of wild unhinged abandon, US alt-rock. Recalling the power of that Empire performance, my hopes were perhaps unfairly high, yet from the outset I was not to be disappointed. The 8-piece band, expanded "live" to include a 2-man horn section and extra guitarist, were on top form from the start, dishing up slow-burn yet emotive atmospheric mood music, which built like steam, gushing forth into jagged rolling crescendos of crashing noise. The uniquely tonsilled Matt Berenger, his voice dark rich like Belgian chocolate, was the visual focal point throughout, throwing shapes and physically enacting this set, veins and sinews bulging from his neck as he roared the epic denouements to songs such as "Secret Meeting", the heart-tugging "Slow Show" and a frankly amazing rendition of "Squalor Victoria".
The National were brilliant. A shame the crowd didn't respond in kind - by no means sold out, they were just the enthusiastic side of indifferent. I was jigging around from my position of 4 or 5 rows back, and I didn't see anyone else doing that until the end! Damn shame.
The "Boxer" double salvo "Mistaken For Strangers" and "Fake Empire" capped the set, then an encore featuring a Caroline Martin duet cover was topped by easily their best song, "Mr. November", an anthemic epic rocker of early U2/ Dear Leader proportions, Matt once again giving it full effort, throwing himself into the front rows, and giving this superb set the ending it deserved.
So, a great night, only partly marred by a car park pay-mare (a 20 minute queue!), but made better by being able to find the venue this time around. You never know, I might be back here again!
750 BAND OF HORSES, The Virgins, London Shepherd's Bush Empire, Tuesday 8 July 2008
A seemingly promising evening ended up a real disappointment for a variety of reasons. Rachel, who'd missed my recent BOH Thekla gig, booked tix for this one after really warming to their scorched alt-Country meets wall-of-sound CDs. However she fell ill at the last minute so had to miss this one. D'oh! So just Tim and myself for this, as we drove up debating the merits of Band Of Horses selling out such a big venue as this, after such a swift rise to prominence. Could they carry it off?
Parked up at 8, failing to sell our spare ticket, then hit the venue to catch half of the Virgins' support slot. They were totally forgettable bland pop with an almost 80's feel - Haircut 100 meets Hot Hot Heat, only nowhere near as good as that should sound! Had a drink and wander instead, baulking at the merch prices - £20 for t-shirts these days? Ouchie!
Took a position by the bar on the floor, stage right, behind some dickhead who yelled "whooo" repeatedly throughout. Was I/ am I ever that bad at a gig? Hope not! Band Of Horses arrived at 9 and proceeded to "rock out", kicking off with an oomph to "Great Salt Lake" and following it up with their best number, "Is There A Ghost", which really soared, benefitting from the powerful live rendition. The crowd were well up for this one, and so was the headbanded Ben Bridwell, shouting and throwing rock shapes like Springsteen. Unfortunately, the rock treatment detracted from the intricate delicacy of many of their numbers, and the set varied from powerful and punchy, to loud and somewhat clumsy.
They partly redeemed themselves with a touching "No-One's Gonna Love You" and a trad new country number sung by big keyboardist Ryan, however at the end of a dragging 1 hour 20 minute set we were gone, a little disappointed that they'd tried to raise their game by raising the volume. Grandaddy effortlessly walked the tightrope between power and delicacy, Band Of Horses currently do not.
And to cap it all, we had to detour via Heathrow due to an M4 closure, so got back late. So a disappointment all round, I'm afraid...
Parked up at 8, failing to sell our spare ticket, then hit the venue to catch half of the Virgins' support slot. They were totally forgettable bland pop with an almost 80's feel - Haircut 100 meets Hot Hot Heat, only nowhere near as good as that should sound! Had a drink and wander instead, baulking at the merch prices - £20 for t-shirts these days? Ouchie!
Took a position by the bar on the floor, stage right, behind some dickhead who yelled "whooo" repeatedly throughout. Was I/ am I ever that bad at a gig? Hope not! Band Of Horses arrived at 9 and proceeded to "rock out", kicking off with an oomph to "Great Salt Lake" and following it up with their best number, "Is There A Ghost", which really soared, benefitting from the powerful live rendition. The crowd were well up for this one, and so was the headbanded Ben Bridwell, shouting and throwing rock shapes like Springsteen. Unfortunately, the rock treatment detracted from the intricate delicacy of many of their numbers, and the set varied from powerful and punchy, to loud and somewhat clumsy.
They partly redeemed themselves with a touching "No-One's Gonna Love You" and a trad new country number sung by big keyboardist Ryan, however at the end of a dragging 1 hour 20 minute set we were gone, a little disappointed that they'd tried to raise their game by raising the volume. Grandaddy effortlessly walked the tightrope between power and delicacy, Band Of Horses currently do not.
And to cap it all, we had to detour via Heathrow due to an M4 closure, so got back late. So a disappointment all round, I'm afraid...
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