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gig reviews - june-dec 2010
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Constellations
Festival
14/11/2010 - Leeds University Students’ Union
I assume you all can agree that it is not a good idea to go to an indoor festival
with a slight hangover. When I entered the Leeds Uni Students’
Union building - still a little woozy on my feet – all the choices
and settings of Constellations festival on 14th November felt
like an unbearably luxurious challenge for me. You can compare
it to going to a supermarket when you’re hungry – which is not
a very good idea, almost feeling dizzy as your blood sugar is
getting low. You don’t know what exactly you are looking for
and where you can find it, but you want to stuff yourself with
all those delicious offers.
The offers at Constellations were just the same. An unmanageable
variety of bands you want to stuff yourself with, three stages
at the underground maze of Leeds Uni Students’ Union and legions
of snoopy and ardent music lovers.
The first item on the packed schedule led me to the smallest
of the stages, the underground venue The Mine, where I decided
to cool off while watching the Leeds-three-piece Wingman. However,
not a good time for resting, Wingman performed in a scuffling
pre-grunge sound and made clear that it is time and space for
some rawer rock and roll sounds. Though appreciating this effort
from a safe distance the shambled sound didn’t reveal any memorable
songs.
Another local band showed why they deservedly enjoy high reputation
around Leeds and further afield. Sky Larkin filled The Refectory,
the largest of the stages, to a striking amount and put on a
show you only can describe as glorious. Their traditionally
alternative but well-thought-out indie-pop tunes perfectly worked
out also on such a big stage and the audience gratefully showed
their approval for these local heroes.
One band that fitted to my actual condition were Polarsets.
Not many visitors found their way to the Mine, so I risked going
to the forward rows. However there weren’t many people, the
few took their chance and followed Polarsets’ invitation to
dance. All were pleased with Polarsets’ chilled out though very
danceable vibes; it was not only me who enjoyed the decent performance
and chilled atmosphere of the electro supported tracks, but
also the revelers who were looking for some enjoyable dance
grooves.
The first of my highlights featured the American Cloud Nothings
at the Mine. Although I was looking forward to this new hype,
they could not meet my expectations and were the first disappointment
on the line-up. The band could not reveal its fresh lo-fi underground
college rock style as they preferred creating a wild and noisy
wall of sound, pushing the effort of lo-fi too hard. Unfortunately
that special something in their vintage sound went down due
to their trashy sound. Both the drummer and the guitar sections
could not handle presenting their songs in a mature attitude,
exaggerating the play by just trashing the drums and just opening
the overdrive. (One more negative aspect besides, is the singer
really that out of it, acting as a nerdy slacker, or is it just
an attitude?) However, playing the hyped hit “Cool Kid” as their
last song, Cloud Nothings showed how their performance could
have met my expectations.
The band that really deserved the brand “highlight” were UK’s
new hype The Vaccines. After cooling my slight hang-over with
coke only during the day, I found my relief with a fresh pint,
and it was just the perfect time for it! The Vaccines put on
a blue-print of how rock and roll show should be: fast, furious,
and a punch in your face. Singer Justin Young showed how a front-man
has to act when he shouts sub-two-minutes punk songs, and knows
how to set the tone for the show with his exalted performance.
A good example for the band’s drive and self-conception gave
the interplay between Young and guitarist Freddie Cowan, escalating
into an jostle during excessive dancing/playing at one of Cowan’s
echoing solos. But it is not only these two guys who deserve
the credits for this accomplished four-piece. Bassist Anri Hjorvar
gave the antithesis to the leading duo Young/Cowan mauling his
bass very prudent and precise, while drummer Pete Robertson
presented an impressive variety of expressions: some time threshing
his drums aggressively, some time highly concentrated, passionate
beating and staring into space lost in thought. One really could
see these four guys all felt like a duck in the water. Also
the front row of 150-200 people in the Mine absorbed the pace
and dynamics of the show, pint-waving and dancing along to the
Ramones-a-like hymns “Wreckin’ Bar” and “Blow It Up”. (Though
what was a puzzling, why were there only old lads in the front
row dancing…? It seemed all the nerdy music followers were quite
skeptical about the new hype.) However, punchy two-minute-songs
don’t necessarily make up a hype, though with putting on a cool
show like that, The Vaccines proved to me that they deserve
the fun they have on stage, making me enthusiastic about what
else might come along with their album and their next tour.
One more absolute highlight to come, Broken Social Scene filling
the Refectory to its last row. Starting with the fabulously
blooming “World Sick” you saw from the very first moment why
Leeds loved BSS. The songs of the Canadian collective simply
flourished and created a jolly feel-good atmosphere. Swapping
around all their different kinds of instruments it was obvious
that the band as well as the audience enjoyed every special
moment of the show. BSS could have done a standard show or just
what they wanted to do, and still it would have been good. However,
they did more than the standard, they really did what they wanted:
they fulfilled a long standing wish, and to the audience’s surprise
Johnny Marr entered the stage, accompanying BSS for one song.
Not only for this unexpected guest, but for the whole show,
Leeds loved Broken Social Scene. What a successful night, the
next hang-over may come!
Wolfgang Günther
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Laura
Marling and The Pins
20.11.10 - Leadmill, Sheffield
It was into a sold out and already sweaty Leadmill that we
stepped at 8 o’clock on Saturday, ready to see the lovely Laura
Marling at her first show in the Steel City. We angled ourselves
to the right, but the Leadmill is such an awkward shape that
it’s always nearly impossible to actually see the band, especially
when it’s sold out, and especially when the very tall people
in front of us had to move back because 12 girls in ridiculous
coats put themselves in front of them. Who comes to a gig in
a tweed coat anyway??? It’s not 1945 and you’re not your Nana.
First up, at about 8.20, which is so far after doors opened
at 7pm that it’s not really funny, came The Pins. Three girls,
a guitar, a melodica and more clothes from Grandma’s dressing-up
box make probably the worst support band I’ve ever seen. While
not technically bad, they were just bland to the point of offensive.
Laura finally took to the stage about 9.25 and by 10.25 we
were back in the car. That’s my first complaint. I know that
the Leadmill turns into a club after gigs on the weekends, but
playing for just an hour when the ticket price was £15
excluding fees just isn’t on. My second complaint is that Laura
didn’t seem her usual sparkling self – she seemed lacklustre
and frankly like she just didn’t care. I know she can do better,
which is what really annoys me.
One song bled into another and I can’t say the new ones stuck
out very much, but given that I love both of Laura’s albums,
I will still be giving her a chance, despite this very dismal
gig.
Rebecca McCormick |
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Foals + Pulled Apart By Horses + Crystal Fighters
11.11.10 - Lincoln Engine Shed
It’s a bitterly cold Thursday night in Lincoln and just about
five hundred pink nosed punters are waiting patiently to be
let into the cozy warmth of the Engine Shed. Tickets at the
ready, admittance begins and the rush to the barrier (and the
bar) begins. Soon enough, twenty minutes later everyone is lined
up and ready to go as Pulled Apart By Horses grace the stage.
Mixing hardcore punk with old school rock and roll, they rip
up the room, sending bodies flying and starting a circle pit
by the fourth song. As an extra special finale, the lead singer
decided to crowd surf, wiping his sweaty stomach and denim laden
crotch across my face in a frenzy to reach the baying crowd
behind.
Crystal Fighters set up seemed a somewhat mixed array of tribal
prints and animal bones, it was almost expected that they would
launch into a psychedelic MGMT tribute. Alas, first impressions
may not always be the best as we twist into a frenzy of trash
trance and Amazing Baby style vocals. Highlight was definitely
the wonderful ‘At Home’ with a reoccurring chorus of, ‘No no
no no no no no no no no no no no. Yeah! Yeah!’ keeping the crowd
interaction high with some fantastic one syllable shout fests.
Leaving on a well deserved high, not that they weren’t anyway,
Crystal Fighters are a band to watch for 2011.
On to tonight’s main act: Foals. Hailing from Oxford, these
five made math core cool. Emerging one by one from the stage
staircase, every time to a huge cheer, they slowly build up
a frantic introduction to ‘Blue Blood’. It becomes so clear
why Yannis and company are the top of their game; the attention
to detail and their pure dexterity as musicians puts them head
and shoulders above other bands, sounding somehow more perfect
live than they do on studio recording.
‘Cassius’ and ‘Balloons’ show that the oldies are the best,
setting the room alight with heart-stopping vigour, although
neither seem as magnificent as the math-core punk start mechanisms
of ‘Red Sock Pugie’, complete with red lights glowing like flames
through the smoke as the words, ‘we set it on fire’ chime right
the way through the Engine Shed. It is this kind of attention
to minute little details that make the band so wonderful, albeit
pedantic. ‘After Glow’ is another splendid affair of lights
and drama as the escalating intensity rises before crashing
down into a jaw dropping ending, brought alive by the energy
given to it by the hysterical crowd. Somehow, every note of
every chord seems to strike up some sort of lost emotion as
we tumble through scales and shocks, rising and falling to the
beat of the bass drum and moving to the tunes that graciously
fill our ears.
Tentatively awaited ‘Spanish Sahara’ is a beautiful masterpiece
tonight in the shadows of the wash of subtle pink, Yannis’ solemn
vocals ringing throughout the venue. It even battled the gloriously
sombre ‘2 Trees’ for the most beautiful Curtis-esque silhouetted
lead singer.
The encore tonight carries yet more vigour as ‘The French Open’
is unleashed to the audience, ensuing in madness. Tearing apart
the room, screaming ‘racquets and gadgets’, the crowd seem more
alive now than ever. Flowing seamlessly into much loved ‘Hummer’,
a wave of ecstasy washes over everyone, resulting in circle
pits and a chest crushing for all. Ending on ‘Two Steps, Twice’
the room elevates to a new level of euphoria; hands in the air,
bodies dancing furiously and maybe a little too close for comfort.
Tonight has made it perfectly clear that Foals know the true
essence of live music; joy, sweat, blood and some big, big love.
Eloise Quince |
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Blank
Dogs + The Twilight Sad + Errors
6.10.10 - The Deaf Institute, Manchester
If I were the sort of person to judge a band by their appearance
I would hate openers Errors. However I'm not and you can dress
as hipster as you want if you're as good as they are. Wonderful
instrumental dance fuelled music. The songs are wonderful and
played with great skill. Particular praise must go to the drummer
whose solid, muscular beats hold everything together.
The last train from Manchester to Bolton is at 22:53. This
means that anyone not living in the city has to be out of the
Deaf Institute by 22:30. This is normally fine and whoever is
the second band on will normally have finished or at least played
most of their set. Tonight things are so spectacularly late
that I only get to see Errors. As a result the rest of this
review is made up of the comments my city-dwelling friends made
to me.
I like Twilight Sad, and I thought before this gig that the
venue would be perfect for their epic close layered folk rock,
and it is. However I am reliably informed that the Twilight
Sad did not overwhelm. Songs which sound majestic and swell
on record, fell flat and disappointed live. I don't think they
were bad, but I get the impression they fell far short of what
their recorded work suggests they are capable of. That their
time was significantly eaten into by Errors (who as openers
played for nearly an hour) meant that they were unable to provide
a co-headline show. This may have been the fault of Errors or
maybe Twilight Sad knew they weren't on their game. Either way
it's just a case of who to blame for a disappointment.
It is to the credit of Twilight Sad's recorded output that
I am withholding overall judgement.
Christopher Carney |
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Bombay
Bicycle Club
20.7.10 - Norwich Arts Centre
After just two years from officially finishing Secondary School,
the young and refreshing Bombay Bicycle Club have hit the road
running. Just a year on from their first and acclaimed album
I Had The Blues Bit I Shook Them Loose; an album which supplied
the indie scene with a swift, pulsating and invigorating kick
up its proverbial, they now provide an acoustic tour to accompany
their second album, Flaws.
The tour took place in churches, to complement their new sound,
and it has to be said that Norwich Arts Centre, a converted
church, did their music justice. The seated gig was thoughtfully
presented. The audience were given Orders of Service, detailing
each support act and providing lyrics of a few of their songs.
After the two engaging performances from Lucy Rose and Melodica,
Melody and Me, the audience was more than ready for an encapsulating
presentation from the band that they had all come to see. But
unfortunately, most were left slightly underwhelmed.
Throughout the evening, band members would come and go, occasionally
leaving the lead singer Jack Steadman to perform solo. All the
songs performed, that were not covers, are all written by Steadman,
and as such there is a subtle feeling that he wants songs done
in his way. When members returned from backstage they seemed
barely connected to the audience perhaps because of the lack
of ownership they felt towards their music. Although all very
talented, some members, notably Ed Nash (bass and keys) seemed
despondent, if a little bored. The energy and enthusiasm that
their fans expected, and indeed saw just a year ago, was lacking.
Of course the dynamic was never going to be the same but, even
so, there was a distinct lack of rapport all round.
There were indeed some positives. Musically, the sound was
quite striking. The acoustic versions of Evening/Morning, Dust
On The Ground, Always Like This and, encore, You Already Know
are different enough to rouse new emotions and interpretations
from the listeners. A cover of Loudon Wainwright III’s Motel
Blues (father of Martha and Rufus) was also unique enough to
be intriguing. Rinse Me Down, the opener to the gig and also
to their new album Flaws, was an exquisitely performed introduction,
and it was particularly pleasant when support act Lucy Rose
joined the band halfway through to provide some delicate harmonies.
In all though, this was a gig for listeners of music -listeners
with quite a lot of patience. Visually, there was little that
was charming and there was even less humour or interaction once
BBC came on stage. You would get as much from this tour, if
not more, by lying down with your eyes closed. They do write
and record wonderful acoustic songs but let us just hope that,
before their next tour, they rediscover electric again.
Sean Gregson
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The
Method +Johnny Alchemist
7.7.10 - Bristol The Promenade
It's a bit quiet on Gloucester Road this evening, put this
down to the Germany/Spain match which, while it's showing on
all four of the Promenade's screens, doesn't appear to have
gathered the crowds quite so well as it might've: all half dozen
or so of the venues early evening punters are sat on the outdoors
veranda while the bar seems eerily silent aside from the commentary,
begging the question - 'is this a good or bad night for The
Method to bring their psyched out pop art grooves to technicolour
life on the Promenade's adequate yet possibly underappreciated
stage' ?
It's Johnny Alchemist's task to haul an audience in off the
street, or at least alert passers -by to the fact that there
is indeed a gig going on, and things are sufficiently slow this
evening to allow Mr Alchemist a 40 minute set, during which
time he is able to expound at quite some length his theories
of transmuting base punkfolk guitar and hyped up vocalising
into something that fully resembles an entertaining collection
of busking chants. No-one should remain in any doubt that there
is indeed live music at the Promenade this evening, and at the
end of the set there are twice as many drinkers sat on the outdoors
veranda as there were 40 minutes previously.
So what with one thing and another, The Method are a little
late this evening, although there is something like a proper
audience present by 10.30, as a lengthy drum intro breaks into
first number 'Gurner's Day', as The Method's own brand of danceable
art-pop ignites the stage, referencing as it does soul, mod,
2-tone, jazz, psychedelia and artrock simultaneously. Vocals
and instruments are swathed in reverb, keyboard and trumpet
vie for position over some erratic funk based rhythms, and with
four decades of inspirations to draw upon the references are
fast and cleverly demonstrated : 'Whip Around' has a chorus
the Beatles might yet sue for, 'Dissidents And Dancers' is Floyd's
'Interstellar Overdrive' played forwards, 'The Fool' is Arctic
Monkeys and Foals causing a food fight in a radioactive seafood
restaurant. The Method's dance crazed enthusiasm and refusal
to treat their influences with overt reverence gives them the
air of true originals, and they're an actual pop group into
the bargain. You'll hear of them again, and probably their audience
will turn up on time then.
JG |
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Keane
26.6.10 – Cannock Chase Forest, Staffordshire
It’s an exquisite summers evening, and I’m standing amidst
Cannock Chase Forest. The vast crowd are singing and dancing:
the landscape is breathtaking: hell, there’s not even a queue
for the bar. In theory it’s wonderful. And yet...
I’ve spent the last week trying to work out why I came away
from this concert dissatisfied. All the elements were there
– a stunning outdoor venue, perfect weather, a responsive crowd.
The performances were good. Everything Everything opened and
immediately hooked the crowd. Epic sounding tracks, utilising
synths, heavy drum beats and Jonathan’s falsetto vocals, took
the opening slot by the scruff of the neck. Admittedly the next
act, The Helio Sequence proved to be underwhelming but then
we were onto the main event and when Keane took to the stage
the whole crowd were up and dancing, singing along to all the
songs. They blasted through all the hits such as Spiralling,
Is It Any Wonder, Everybody’s Changing and Crystal Ball.
So what was wrong? At first I wondered if it was the audience.
Made up mainly of picnicking families I wondered if that had
caused a lack of atmosphere but to be honest they were more
responsive a crowd than I’ve seen in a long time. Was it the
outdoor venue? But then festivals never have that problem. Thinking
back over the ingredients, it feels like the concert was merely
a simulacrum of the real thing. As if someone had read what
a gig should contain and then sought to recreate it but in doing
so forgot to include the spark that makes a live event special.
This was definitely the best gig I’ve come away from not sure
if I’ve enjoyed it. It will forever puzzle me and so in that
sense it’s memorable, but if I had the chance to relive parts
of my life I don’t think this would make the cut.
Matt Latham |
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Jamie
T and the Pacemakers
24.6.10 - Lincoln Engine Shed
On a sizzling Thursday night, what seems like a million people
all pile into the tiny Engine Shed in Lincoln. The room is so
hot it could cause any unwitting audience member to spontaneously
combust, but nevertheless, everyone is buzzing. First on are
a strange looking bunch of young men who gingerly approach their
instruments. Obviously they are beginning to realise that warming
up for Jamie T is going to be a huge challenge. Nevertheless,
we plough on through a mass of distortion and unbearable screaming,
not to mention a frontman who looks so vacant he could have
been mistaken as a paralysed zombie. Finally it ends and a tiny
dull voice utters, “Thanks, we’re Eagles.” Really? How lovely.
One teeny piece of advice if I may? Don’t give up the day jobs,
lads.
As the crowd get hotter and crush together more tightly, all
in search of that coveted barrier view, the atmosphere only
increases. The build up of anticipation and cheers finally crashes
into a craze of clapping and screaming as, bursting through
a door and running down the stairs to the stage is the punk
we’ve all been waiting for. Launching across the stage, no time
is wasted in picking up the nearest instrument and bouncing
straight into ‘Man’s Machine’. The ska vibes echo through the
venue before the unforgettable refrain ‘soul, guts, concrete
and gravel’ nearly cracks the very concrete holding up the ceiling.
Last note strung out, Jamie lights up. ‘368’ is next on this
evening’s agenda and it is phenomenal – kitchen sink percussion
perfect with unparalleled audience participation right through
to the last line.
The first notes of ‘St. Christopher’ ring throughout the Engine
Shed. The confidence of Jamie T is supreme as he glides effortlessly
through this beautiful b-side, hitting every note with a genuine
and heart-felt passion. This melodiously mild dream of a number
can only be followed by ‘Emily’s Heart’ which flows almost seamlessly
from the last chord of ‘St. Christopher’. I say almost because
after the first line the London troubadour halts and announces,
“Ladies and Gentlemen. We’ll have to start that one again because
I fucked up.” But of course, we do not continue until a stray
glow stick has been rightfully returned and all are reminded
cheekily that “this is not a Klaxons gig”. Second time round,
a with a renewed sense of calm, ‘Emily’s Heart’ strikes up,
the crowd making every syllable resonate around the room, cascading
stunningly like musical raindrops. It soon becomes perfectly
clear that dear Mr Treays is a master of his art – he knows
exactly how to charm a crowd, whether it is through a soft ballad,
a vivacious stomper or just by returning lost property.
Still feeling bit rusty, but not put out, Jamie T ventures
into ‘Back in the Game’, played perfectly again showing that
this young man has nothing to worry about. The bluesy bass guitar
solo and dynamic vocals emerge as a match made in heaven as
we glide carelessly through the song.
“Sheila goes out with her mate Stella...” is a line that is
accompanied by a cheer so great, London definitely heard it
coming. Spiralling through the rhythmic prose, the relentless
energy of the crowd just makes Jamie T jump higher and run faster
like a wind-up toy as he collects the adrenaline that is dripping
from every surface and twists it into his own euphoric frenzy.
‘Operation’ is alike in its crazed jubilation, but it is deserved
as every single pair of lungs in the vicinity screams, ‘take
your problem to United Nations’.
“Thank you, it’s been a wonderful night” is always followed
by a sound only ever heard by children that have been told firmly
that they are not nearly there yet, but tonight, said noise
is deafening. As Jamie T and the Pacemakers vacate, the crowd
are only more insistent in wanting them back. A last ditch attempt
initiates – the whole audience singing ‘If You Got the Money’
with gusto, never once stepping out of time. It appears to have
won over the wayward performers who arrive once more, pumped
up and ready to go, gliding straight into ‘Spider’s Web’. The
hustle and the bustle intensify, arms and legs flying everywhere,
the pit widening to the periphery of the room. Oh, a ukulele
has never sounded so damn good. As a special treat for the earlier
efforts, ‘If You Got the Money’ animates one and all into another
of the joyous dance pit frenzies, with the inclusion of an impromptu
a cappella vocal choir provided, most courtesy, by the crowd.
The curtain is calling. “When there’s no-one left to fight...”
is almost a war cry tonight that earns the response, “...boys
like him don’t shine so bright”. Spinning headily into a nostalgic
tale of drinking, fighting and generally having a good time,
the room could shine gold with the collective astronomical high
felt through the bones of every person in that tiny, sweaty
room. Swaying, shouting and dancing as if the world is about
to end, ‘Sticks and Stones’ is a truly beautiful ending to what
can only be described as a truly beautiful night.
Eloise Quince |
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The
Miserable Rich
19.06.10 – West Hill Hall, Brighton
What sort of crowd would turn up to a Miserable Rich gig? I
had no idea what to expect when arriving at West Hill Hall,
a small community hall situated on the edge of Brighton City
Centre. I struggled to get through the door as the venue was
packed to bursting, but as I pushed my way in I was shocked
and pleasantly surprised to see families sat around tables,
on the floor, and leaning against the walls, all there to enjoy
the music together. It’s something you would never be able to
have at any other venue in Brighton, most of which are pubs
and clubs. It seemed like the perfect venue for the bands ‘homecoming’
gig (I say homecoming, however I’m unsure as to whether it actually
counts or not as after a couple of songs they announced that
none of them were actually from Brighton).
I was fortunate enough to turn up late, meaning I missed most
of the support act. This was a good thing as far as I was concerned
seeing as all her songs seemed to bleed into one another: She
sounded like she was dying tunefully, to put it nicely. She
could sing, but the songs were dull, miserable and exceedingly
average. The only thing that stopped it all sounding the same
was the change in backing instruments; one song there would
be a guitar accompaniment, the next a horrible sounding piano,
the next synths and so it went on. I didn’t catch her name…
I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing.
So, onto the main show – The Miserable Rich suit the room perfectly,
having set the stage up with lots of fairy lights, lamps and
visuals being projected on a screen behind them. It gave the
venue a very warm and welcoming atmosphere and added to the
intimacy of the show. They opened with ‘Pegasus,’ – the first
song on their new album ‘Of Flight and Fury.’ Immediately it
became obvious that what we were about to see wasn’t your average
gig on a Saturday night in Brighton; the cellist and violinist
created warm drones, while the double bass and acoustic guitar
kept the songs moving. As a backing band it seemed unconventional
but so perfect. Add to that the front man who was able to change
his singing style from song to song, one minute singing with
a smooth beauty, the next growling down the microphone aggressively.
There is no drummer, but then again who needs one when your
front man adds percussive notes to every song with bells, maracas
and a snare drum played with everything from his hands, to sticks
and the aforementioned maracas?
They put on a great show, mostly playing songs of their latest
album that this tour had been to promote. Highlights included
‘Pegasus,’ ‘Let It Fade,’ ‘Chestnut Sunday’ and an unpredictable
cover of the Iggy Pop track ‘Shades.’ I don’t know if this is
a regular addition to their live shows, but if it wasn’t then
I don’t think that anyone would have been expecting it. It wasn’t
a straight cover of the song, it was very much their own interpretation,
and I have to admit that I preferred it to the original. As
they drifted between songs it was near impossible to take your
eyes off the band, and more importantly the front man who was
theatrical and friendly. He addressed the crowd at every opportunity,
telling stories of where the songs came from and seeming very
grateful for everyone who was there watching him perform. The
only thing that distracted me from watching the band was the
visuals being projected on the screen behind them that were,
I noticed about fifteen minutes into their set, on a loop. By
half way through their set it had become a little irritating,
like watching a clock, only prettier.
Overall the show blew me away; I never imagined being so engrossed
in a band like this in a live setting. There were a couple of
weaker moments in the set when they played some of their older
material that I personally found a little boring and predictable.
But I must have been the only one that thought this as the rest
of the room was singing along with these songs that were obviously
familiar to them. I wholeheartedly recommend checking The Miserable
Rich out in a live setting, I will be watching for the next
time they are in Brighton. I don’t want to rate the night as
a whole as the support act tarnished the evening for me, but
The Miserable Rich deserve a 9/10
James Borland |
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The
Michael Giles Mad Band
1.6.10 - Bath Chapel Arts
Improvised music is, if not exactly an acquired taste, then
definitely something that needs a certain level of insight to
really extract the best from it. I've seen and heard several
CDs and concerts which took lack of structure as their prime
motivation and the results of this approach are, they always
are, a bit variable. So is mixing up club anthems on the nearest
available software, but at least with working in the electronic
field it's possible to guarantee certain outcomes before even
turning on the studio lightswitch. Not so in the world of live
improvisation, where there's always, even amongst highly skilled
and experienced performers, the chance that at some point in
the evening the performance will collapse entirely and that
the audience are bound to appreciate the musicianship on display
as much for their expertise at jamming themselves out of a chaotic
mishmash as for their ability to hold down a tune.
There isn't however any doubt that when a group of highly committed
and internationally renowned musicians decide that they're sufficiently
at ease with their material to share it with the public that
the results make for an enervating and occasionaly challenging
experience, and such is the present incarnation of the Michael
Giles Mad Band, based around the former King Crimson drummer
and including Penguin Cafe Orchestra's Geoffery Richardson on
guitars and violin and the modern composer Keith Tippett on
piano. You could, if you were to extend a metaphor, probably
guarantee that the results of this evening would prove at least
interesting, as well as marginally less predictable than a studio
rejigging of some early 90s Balearic rhythms.
The band perform two half hour sets, the first of these a slow,
near torturous exercise in spatiality, with twin percussionists
Giles and associate AD Chivers utilising a range of both conventional
and kitchen implements to build an amospheric, edgy and rhythmically
erratic piece which appeared to take a very long time to start
up but quite suddenly and irrevocably did so, as Keith Tippetts
keyboard took up the percussive initiative while David Pennie's
guitar howled like some unnameable creature of the twilight.
Satisfactory, but it had taken the band quite some time to arrive
at their conclusion. The second part of the show had, it seemed,
a lot more variation and dynamism to offer what was an attentive
and appreciative, and near capacity Chapel Arts audience; with
the tempos remaining quick and both percussionists making the
very most of their eclectic range of instrumentation , while
Keith Tippett threw randomised jazz chords over his shoulder,
Geoffery Richardson provided a near theatrical central presence
in spite of (or perhaps because of) the inaudibility of his
ukelele, and David Pennie's use of a bow and other implements
(including an egg whisk) to complement his finger tap playing
style had the quintet realising and discarding riffs and ideas
in a seemingly endless stream of invention.
This was an evening of perhaps the very best improvised work
that anyone with an interest in the form can expect to hear
nowadays, at least on this side of the channel; alternately
melodic, discordant, frenetic, destructive and ultimately cohesive,
with the combined talents of some highly regarded if little
known musicians providing a spontaneously rewarding listening
experience for anyone equipped to appreciate it, which doesn't
include everybody, but then not everyone likes Country &
Western either. If you've any interest in improvised music you
may already know of Michael Giles and if you don't, then the
Mad Band are as good an introduction to the form as you can
expect to hear.
http://madband.co.uk/MADBAND/home.html
JG |
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