The popularity of Céleste Boursier-Mougenot’s installation at The Barbican’s Curve gallery dictates a queue of at least 40 minutes length but a trifling test of your patience is a small price to pay for the delights held within.
The atmosphere of the introductory dark space with giant projections of fingers on fretboards and burbling electronic sounds is compelling enough but one is drawn quickly and magnetically to the end of this tunnel and the forewarned spectacle that awaits. Read the rest of this entry »
Tonight is a band outing for The Untied Knot – me and Matt hop a 91 bus for the long crawl to the nether regions of Crouch End in search of a fix of what the NME once described as a “one-man Love Unlimited Orchestra”. The gig is billed as Liam Hayes and Plush which is the official new moniker for 2009’s “Bright Penny” album. Starting as we (it turns out) mean to go on we commandeer the 2 best seats in the venue, front and centre to the obvious dismay of the too-polite punters behind us. Not terribly English I’m afraid but that’s several ales and a one hour bus journey for yas, if you’re reading guys – sorry… Barring this unforgivable faux-pas, we settle in on our best behaviour as Liam lifts on his Fender Telecaster for the first number. It appears the two Fender Rhodes and upright piano will remain untouched but just before a sense of mild disappointment sets in for both of us, the guitar is discarded for the second song and Mr Hayes is joined by his new right-hand man on duelling Fender Rhodes and synth bass – Mr Jimmy Rowland. I say “mild disappointment” as I would have been more than happy with a solo electric guitar set just like the brilliant one we witnessed at The Luminaire 12 months ago but finer still it is to witness my 4th variant on the Plush live sound since 1998.
Certain people talk about “outsider artists” but Liam Hayes and his music seems to exist in a timeless bubble somewhere on the outskirts of the music scene, untouched by any trends or concessions to the present millennium. Read the rest of this entry »
Richard Youngs and Heather Leigh Murray’s swooping twin guitar maelstrom dissolves into an unaccompanied three word mantra drone and keeps me entranced throughout. I convince my companion “we” actually “could”n’t “do that ourselves” and we grab ourselves another drink.
Thanks to http://mapsadaisical.wordpress.com/ for this nice photo
Neil Campbell’s (a.k.a. Astral Social Club) set is the equivalent of ingesting a supercharged chunk of good acid during an electrical storm. As he plate-spins effects pedals and mic-manipulates layers of dense disjointed (near impossible to) dance (to) music, the visuals sketch out complex ever-changing geometric line patterns. Even the sound of a mobile going off during a subdued section doesn’t detract from this extended episode of sensory euphoria. Sweet.
Skaters have cancelled so Alexander Tucker steps breach-wards with a set of looped cello narratives. I always enjoy his shows and always seem to catch him more by accident then design – this is no exception. The night is cut short as my companion requires a taxi to ferry us across London to last orders at a theatre bar – this, if nothing else is an excuse for tequila. Goodnight.
On the way to Rough Trade in Brick Lane I cut down Fournier St where I spy for the second time up close; two of our greatest national treasures, Gilbert and George. The first time was many years ago in Streatham Hill when I passed them in the street and on turning round for one final look, found George doing exactly the same thing to me! Anyway, as always, I digress (sort of) which brings me to Chatham’s own punk rock renaissance man – painter, poet, author, musician and of recent years, the very dapper Billy Childish. One of the few men who can carry a moustache and a collarless shirt with any sort of panache.
Childish is at Rough Trade for one of their regular free in-store gigs which make up a significant part of my own gift economy. The introductory abortive poetry set almost descends into farce Read the rest of this entry »
Birmingham’s 7 year old Supersonic festival has gradually expanded to a 3 day line-up but thankfully the best attractions are usually reserved for Saturday. Since All Tomorrow’s Parties descended into self-parody, it has become probably the most credible alternative as the UK’s best festival of international underground music (even if it does feature an unhealthy amount of metal-based garbage). So once again, the afternoon of the 25th of July found me heading up the motorway to the Midlands suppressing the impending trauma of the first coach service back to London at 5am the following morning.
This Saturday marks my 4th visit to Capsule’s superlative Supersonic festival in Birmingham.
Because I’m a getting a little bit excited about it here’s a link to 13 live sets from the 2007 edition on Last FM including Oxbow, Mogwai, Voice Of The Seven Woods and Kid 606.
Last night I found myself in London’s (un)fashionable Shoreditch at a monthly “electro party” with the rather unpleasant name, “Dollop”. The bar was full of moustachio’ed buffoons who will be able to reflect comfortably on their sartorial misdemeanours in a few short years.
I am happy to report however, that the scene upstairs was slightly different. The Old Blue Last is actually a great venue with a high, black back-dropped stage and impressive sound. O. Children, the only live act of the night, are fronted by a statuesque model type with a croon pitched somewhere between Adam Green and Paul Banks of Interpol. The rhythm section sport the kind of hair-cuts that take up hours of valuable rehearsal time and the guitarist looks like the kind of lad who your mum would like to cook a nice meal for. Musically, it’s the kind of slightly dark, 80s-tinged electro-pop embraced by the bright young things which doesn’t seem to want to go away in a hurry.
The good news is that O. Children have a strong grasp of the dynamics of a good alt-pop tune and also know a hook when it looks them in the face. Singer Tobias can command a room but also has that tiny degree of gawkish self-consciousness that will make him likeable, if not adorable to girls and guys up and down the land. A brief, energy-charged set convinces everyone in the room and they are on their way. Tobias’ closing words, “Remember the name, O. Children”.
My friends, The Saskatoons have a couple of new songs up on their MySpace page. Their mainman Ross, hails from the West Midlands and his love of the country/Americana vibe led to him christening his label “Black Country Records”. An EP will be out on the afore-mentioned imprint in the near future. In the meantime go and have a listen.
By the way, did I mention I recorded and mixed the sessions for them?
This weekend I hitched along to the 5th Field Farm Festival with my friends Coconut Monkey who were part of the Saturday afternoon line-up.
You won’t have heard of it and you probably won’t have heard of any of the bands that were on the bill and you also won’t be that familiar with the concept of a festival such as this i.e. it’s not about a “lifestyle choice” (like all those bullshit “boutique” festivals) and it ain’t some sort of corporate pig circus (like…well, you name it really), it’s actually about the music (to paraphrase Neil Young). Field Farm is a great day in the beautiful Oxfordshire countryside, it’s totally free, the bands don’t go for the money cos there isn’t any and it’s full of people out to enjoy a wide range of performers (largely from the local area) and a drink or two. It’s a great set-up with 2 stages in a large farm building, good loud PA, bar with local beers and free camping. The whole thing is run on pulled-in favours and it’s a great example of how some real enthusiasm and a bit of community-spirit can produce an excellent, well-organised event.
As well as Coconut Monkey (who helped turn my birthday party in January into the best night ever) I’m going to give a shout-out to Alpha Road, Our Escape and Devilfork whom I particularly enjoyed.
I imagine there are lots of similar things going on up and down the country and indeed, around the world. So why not do a bit of digging about, find one near you (like these) and get yourself along?
My Biog page mentions the “dogma of punk” which is something I experienced first-hand in the late 70s. I just beat my brother to it by owning the first “punk” single in our household in 1977 – The Stranglers’ “Go Buddy Go/Peaches”. On the same day he bought “Magic Fly” by Space which we both thought was punk because they wore bin-liners and astronaut helmets on TOTP. However, being five years my senior he soon became the authority on punk due to his attendance at a tough Bristol comp.
One of the rules that he brought home with him was the fact that you were only allowed to like punk music or in the eyes of other punks you would be viewed as a fraud or specifically a “poser”. This was the ultimate humiliating insult when your musical credibility was on the line so it became a directive I clung firmly to. When I gained precocious entrance to my senior school this proved of great value. Kids who previously wouldn’t even acknowledge my existence now deigned to actually take an interest in me once they’d found out about my collection of Sex Pistols jap imports.
Those who had no particular musical allegiance were also dismissed as posers, I remember clearly the disdain with which one of my brother’s friends was regarded for issuing the statement “I quite like Blondie, actually”. I disowned Blondie in 1980 when Debbie Harry made the announcement that they were going disco on TOTP. My kind of behaviour was perpetrated by a large element of the punk scene and even encouraged by elements of the press with “sell-outs” being exposed on a weekly basis. You wouldn’t believe it now but back than it was a reality. The battle-lines had been drawn early on and we all had to decide which side of the bed we’d been lying on.
The reality was much different – Johnny Rotten’s 1977 Capital Radio interview included music by the likes of Peter Hammill and The Third Ear Band, Keith Levene was a big Yes fan (even rumoured to be Steve Howe’s roadie shortly before joining The Clash), Pete Shelley loved Can and Joe Strummer was a Springsteen/Dylan Obsessive, to name but 4 of the “guilty” few.
Of course, in retrospect it was all utterly absurd especially as The Stranglers – much as I loved them were just a speeded up R n B band who, by their own admission, had jumped the bandwagon and Blondie had clearly always been a disco band anyway. It’s funny to see how the party-line Chinese-whispered its way out to the provincial playgrounds. At least I had the excuse of only being 8 or 9 years old.
All of which brings me to why I love this clip so much – the long-haired hippy in the front row loves The Clash more than anyone else in the place!
It’s highly probable that the source of all this dogma was Bernard Rhodes, the manager of The Clash. Rhodes was an ardent Marxist and is viewed by many to be the true architect of the UK punk scene. A close associate of Malcolm McLaren, it was Rhodes who both initiated the birth of the Sex Pistols and discovered Johnny Rotten, inviting him to the famed miming audition at the Roebuck pub. Joe Strummer was so inspired by Rhodes’ vision that he adopted a year zero approach which involved sacking many of his friends as well as his band, The 101ers – a move that (understandably) rankles some, even to this day. It’s a similar dogmatic approach to that employed by fellow musical Marxists, Ewan MacColl with his region-specific school of folk revivalism in the 50s and Cornelius Cardew’s early 70s denouncement of the avant-garde in favour of an idealised proletarian popular song.
Thankfully, the birth of a post-punk “scene” within about 18 months of year zero brought with it a welcome and vital musical cross-pollination. You can read all about that in Simon Reynolds’ excellent “Rip It Up And Start Again”.
So it looks like my brother was right buying “Magic Fly” all along.
Fender Rhodes and synth bass – Mr Jimmy Rowland. I say “mild disappointment” as I would have been more than happy with a solo electric guitar set just like the brilliant one we witnessed at The Luminaire 12 months ago but finer still it is to witness my 4th variant on the Plush live sound since 1998.
On the way to Rough Trade in Brick Lane I cut down Fournier St where I spy for the second time up close; two of our greatest national treasures, 
This Saturday marks my 4th visit to Capsule’s superlative 
My friends, The Saskatoons have a couple of new songs up on their 
My Biog page mentions the “dogma of punk” which is something I experienced first-hand in the late 70s. I just beat my brother to it by owning the first “punk” single in our household in 1977 – The Stranglers’ “Go Buddy Go/Peaches”. On the same day he bought “Magic Fly” by Space which we both thought was punk because they wore bin-liners and astronaut helmets on TOTP. However, being five years my senior he soon became the authority on punk due to his attendance at a tough Bristol comp.