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 Bellrays
/ Beachbuggy (London Garage)Beachbuggy are a fourpiece with more gimmicks than a badger riding a bike whilst juggling pickled herring. For a start they all wear matching mechanic’s overalls. However their main act of non-conformity is their use of two drummers. Unfortunately this is actually pointless as the two skin slappers play the exact same rhythm for almost the entire set. So what about the music? Well it’s all moderately appealing if rather overly-familiar with Jack Straker’s Mark E Smith style delivery accompanied by a prominent bassline that mimicks in turn either the Pixies or a keyboardless Stranglers without ever reaching the peaks of either. The gimmicks may well help you remember the band but the music will probably not have you speeding down to the local Megastore. Reviewed by
mawders Imagine putting together your new favourite band. It would have punk energy, so spoon in essence of Ramones. And classic late 60s guitar frenzy and power, so a big wodge of the MC5. Music isn’t anything without soul so let’s have a spoonful of James Brown and a bucketful of blues. For a cherry on the top we want a voice that can belt this out as hard as Tyson used to punch – so let’s have Lisa Kekaula. Bake for 10 years approx. and you have The Bellrays. Derivative? Not at all. Recognisable? Of course and no worse for that. In fact, the influences blend so well that they’ve created a new flavour. Seeing them live puts their achievement into perspective. This is urgent and sweaty punk RnB, played by a hard working band, to an audience that laps up the purity of intention behind the music. All the band are in motion, from Lisa K dancing into the audience, Bob Vennum doing his punk rock leaps, Tony Fate thrashing his guitar like a jockey spurring on a Grand National winner and drummer Vincent Meghrouni proving the body is 90% water by losing most of that in sweat. Visually, it looks like Macy Gray fronting the Lurkers, with Lisa’s mass of Marge-like hair almost filling the stage, and with her voice filling the venue and several boroughs beyond. The songs touch lots of bases, from punk rock (“New Kid”), blaxploitation film soundtracks (“Black is the Color”), RnB in every vocal, the odd gospel phrase and pop rock on the growing-more-classic-with-every-hearing “Fire on the Moon”. While sound and vision from the bar area were good, you had to be closer to the stage to suck up the firestorm of sound that the band produced. Those coming back to the bar after the gig looked seared, as though they’d been exposed to radiation. For those with the ears to listen, the Bellrays promise to fill them with heartstopping, uncompromising, loud, rock’n’roll. Glue your ears on. Setlist: Change the World/Remember/Street Corner/Black is the Color/Tell the Lie/Behind the Gun/They Glued Your Head On Upside Down/FANFARE/Lions Den/Rude Awakening/Thunder All the Time/New Kid/Fire on the Moon/I’m a Lover/Lovetime Reviewed by
Ged The Vines (University of London Union) The Nirvana comparisons will disappear into disuse before long, mainly because The Vines are potentially so much more than Nirvana were. They have that power trio style (augmented to quartet for the more acoustic numbers), married to a Beatle-esque love of melody and they can effortlessly change gear and take you to a kind of Neil Young dark country place where everything is slightly out-of-kilter. Plus, the Vines have a much more focused frontman, judging by Craig Nicholls’ polite greeting and thank yous that punctuated the gig. As we become more familiar with the songs they become more addictive, leaving us wanting to hear more, and only the very best bands ever have that effect. “Highly Evolved” represents the finest 93 seconds you’ll be asked to give your attention to this year. “Factory” is a brilliant blend of Beatley reggae of the Ob-La-Di type which erupts into a guitar frenzy. “Country Yard” is mellow but unsettling. And “Mary Jane” is a brilliant anthem that’s been playing on my internal jukebox ever since the gig. A minor criticism is that the vocals on “Sunchild” and “Factory” are delivered in a fairly ramshackle way but the band better get used to playing these as we’re going to demand to hear these more and more as The Vines’ fame grows. The gig shows the almost unlimited potential of the band and makes us moist at the thought of The Vines’ forthcoming album. Bring it on! Reviewed by
Ged Saloon / Gravanzia (Arts Cafe, Aldgate East) Anyone who’s ever had the misfortune to go to a Fresher’s Week disco will know all about how irritatingly tedious a large room full of drunken students can be. The last thing you would do is give them a collection of musical instruments and expect to be entertained by the resulting product. Oh hullo cue Gravanzia. Dressed ‘hilariously’ in the props from their local am dram society, all the thirty something year old ‘lads’ wore particularly naff wraparound shades, the drummer sported a blood stained lab coat with a “Dr Day” name badge and a false moustache stuck to his forehead whilst another wore a brown fedora. In other words they looked silly. Very. As they performed their insomnia curing prog rock epics, grinning inanely at each other like a bunch of gurning goons, they seemed totally oblivious to the fact that the audience were almost all bored senseless. Overstaying their welcome by at least a lifetime they finished with a rather optimistic “Cheers” before a couple of over generous samaritans had even offered applause. If this band was a book and you were judging it by its cover the cover would just say TWATS. Avoid. Reviewed by
mawders On record, Saloon are produced and precise. Live, they look regimented in their matching uniforms, summoning up shades of Kraftwerk, but their music is more freeform, more unhinged, more personal. When these people sweat it’s H2O, not WD-40. The gig tonight has all the elements that make Saloon so captivating on record, plus that human touch. There are two moogs and another synth on stage that add a beepy electronic crust to the hard edged pop that is driven on by Matt Ashton’s frenzied guitar and Michael Smoughton’s energetic percussion, overlaid by Alison Cotton’s keening violin. The songs are two speeds: slow and moody and fast and moody but at either tempo it feels like they’re painting pictures in sound for us and we stand back and admire the splashes of colour. They’re arty – it’s clear from their presentation of self – but it doesn’t have any sense of up-their-own-arseness that’s the curse of lesser bands. And any band that has a song named for Penelope Keith must have a sense of humour. The music is a mix of tracks from the album “(This is) What We Call Music” and the Track and Field singles and goes down well, especially with the bloke who wants to do a sort of Native American rain dance cum pogo to the encore and, when he gets all wild and flailing near vocalist Amanda, is threatened with being brained by a Moog by Adam Cresswell. Definitely a new dimension to Saloon! Go and see them and there’s a good chance you’ll find yourself seduced by their otherworldly pop music. Reviewed by
Ged Ant (ROTA, Notting Hill Arts Club) With Antony Harding, as with his band Hefner, you get introspective, intimate indie-pop. But where Darren’s songs are about shagging, Ant’s preoccupation is classical, romantic love. So he strums his guitar like a bedroom troubadour, avoiding eye contact and addressing his girlfriend in the front row. His voice is gentle, and the songs delicate and full of emotion. At some points he tells us that the songs may not work because of the background noise and, really, the level of chatter is shocking. Still the songs worked and, for those who bothered to listen, they’re reflective, sweet and softly soulful. The gig showcases his new LP on Fortune & Glory Records, ‘A Long Way to Blow a Kiss’. Fans of Hefner’s more emotionally fraught songs will find much to enjoy, while the quicker numbers faintly recall Belle and Sebastian. The loveliest song is ‘Any Girl Can Make Me Smile’ which lyrically continues “but only you can make me cry” which pretty much sums up where Ant resides musically. One for late nights, before deep conversations, and for men in touch with their feminine sides. Reviewed by
Ged The Suffrajets / Moco (Spitz, London) Being a clown on stage does not make up for a lack of ability. Moco are suffering from the fact that they are unfortunately too unremarkable as a band, and rely on their front man acting like an idiot for them to be remembered by an audience. Musically tight, if uninspiring, they roll along at a reasonable pace, but will always be regarded as a comic act until they either ditch their ageing singer (sic), or nail him to the stage and get him some singing lessons. Personally I’d choose the first option (but keep the visiting rights to his sideburns). The Suffrajets on the other hand have potential. The London 3 piece obviously spent their small advance on decent instruments and rehearsal time, and on this showing it has paid off. Their sound is somewhere between early Breeders and Hole with a dash of Patti Smith thrown in. Live they are tight but lack the second guitarist that would lift their sound, but to their advantage have a drummer who has massive personality and tub-thumping ability. It makes a change to see a band enjoying themselves on stage, and not taking things too seriously. If tonight is anything to go by they could be just what the niche market of 15 to 23 year olds are looking for, both appealing to girls who like the feisty rock chick image, and boys who require an acceptable type of girl band to letch over. However it would be a shame if this becomes the only reason they become successful, as they have good tunes and musical ability, regardless of looks and image. Reviewed by
Micky Bananas |
|
 The Strokes /
Stereo Total (Brixton Academy)Stereo Total are a novelty act. Their set includes a mixture of White Stripes style garage punk and Brigitte Bardot 60s organ cheese. It’s throwaway, dispensible and amusing for all of a micro second. A kind of camp cabaret, ideally suited to performing in a small damp club to fresher week students dressed as rabbits (hello Moldy Peaches) and utterly out of place in a big venue like this with an audience expecting traditional guitar fayre. Ever since they took the music world by storm a year ago, those not swept up with Strokes Fever have been sniping at the band. Some of it is fair enough; that they are a simple guitar band playing simple tunes, the ideas for which have been heavily borrowed. Some of it however isn’t and smacks of envy of their good looks and privileged backgrounds. Whilst their family wealth may well afford them guitar lessons and their looks get them noticed, why can’t people just accept them as a rock n roll band who have produced one of the most hummable albums of recent years? Anyway to tonight’s gig. It was a fifty minute set, without encore, comprised of the entire album, a b-side and two new tracks. When they played Heaven last year Julian Casablancas claimed at the time it was the biggest gig they’d ever done and you could tell they were not entirely comfortable being up on a stage in front of a large audience. I’m not sure that’s changed all that much. The band are pretty motionless, almost frozen, possibly to appear cool or maybe through nerves. Whichever it doesn’t make for particularly spectacular viewing with Casablancas clutching the mike, cocked a la Liam Gallagher but with none of the shoulder lurching and stage prowling swagger. However what the band lack in movement they make up for with the quality of the songs as the classics, Someday, New York City Cops, Last Nite and Barely Legal have the audience chanting along. Even the Academy’s notoriously poor acoustics didn’t ruin the occasion, not from where I was standing anyway. Reviewed by mawders
The Beatings look ordinary joes and play a pretty straightforward US-influenced set, consisting mainly of New York art-rock numbers, with a strong Voidoids influence, and finishing on a Stooges rock-out. The D4 from New Zealand play muscular, sweaty bluesy and primitive rock’n’roll. And they’re bringing sideburns back into fashion! Their website tells us they like crashing cars and their set is like a demolition derby. They’re loud, energetic and punky and bounce around stage like hyperactive kids with no table manners. It sounds like they grew up with the Ramones, Saints, AC/DC and Radio Birdman blasting out of their stereos but like the Birdmen, they know how to keep it grungy, yet very melodic. Their music tells up that they get pissed and fall over at the same rock ‘n’roll saloon where all the other uncompromising rockers like the Hives and the Flaming Sideburns sup. They’re here to make a racket and get noticed – and, if nothing else, calling your first UK single “Rock’n’Roll Motherfucker” is a clear statement of intent. A sold out Metro is sold on the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Karen O wears a beaming smile and an Alvin Stardust black glove. While Nick Zinner (guitars) and Brian Chase (drums) are the technicians, Karen O struts around the stage like a butch-er Marc Almond, crooning softly and then screaming like a banshee. The gig gives the band the opportunity to demonstrate everything from full-on punk rock (the 100-miles-an-hour opener “Miles Away”) to electronic tinkling and doodling. “Black Tongue” hammers along in a Nutbush City Limits kinda way. Even though “Bang” is dispatched in a short version, the song makes an obvious impact, like a clawhammer in your skull, and would be a perfect Levis ad tune. “Our Time” live is an anthemic highlight and, while this crowd merely sways, before long crowds will be singing along. The crowd tonight obviously wanted to see if the band lived up to the hype and left convinced. The next time they see the YYYs (supporting Jon Spencer’s Blues Explosion) they’ll be fervent fans and the band will be stars. And if you don’t believe that, check your veins for embalming fluid. Set list: Miles Away / Black Tongue / Bang / Cold Light / New Song / Art Star / Rich-Machine / Our Time / Tick Reviewed
by Ged The Broken Family Band / The Jessica Fletchers (Toynbee Hall Arts Café) The Jessica Fletchers wear their influences on their sleeve. And, given Oasis have recently demonstrated that they’ve reached the Eastern Mysticism pages of the Beatles songbook that they shamelessly raid for ideas, what’s wrong with that? The JFs demonstrate that they’ve had an education in classic UK and US pop bands and they’ve proved good students. They’re known as the Norwegian Kinks back home, according to singer Thomas Innsto, and you can hear the Kinks, the Beatles, the Monkees and a whole lot more in their set. But if you’re looking for inspiration, why not turn to the time when music was exciting, uncomplicated and pure fun? The band were obviously delighted to be playing tonight (their second UK gig) and that sense of fun rubbed off on the audience. Most of the set is taken from their first two EPs on Perfect Pop Records, and perfect pop is what it is, from the bouncy opener “Up and Around” to the set closer, the wonderfully melodic “Just Another Fashion Band”. It’s not just retro 60s by numbers; the songs are well formed, with neat twists and changes of pace, and there’s a craftiness about the band that makes me want to hear more. For a country that produced A-Ha, a bunch of electronica miserabilists and a string of Eurovision disasters, the Jessica Fletchers might prove an enjoyable export. The Broken Family Band describe their sound as 'a bit country' and that’s not easy to play when you come from Cambridge. Context matters: I remember, as a lad, ‘cowboys’ walking up and down outside Frontierland amusement park in Morecambe in full Western gear, stetsons and six-guns saying “’ey up, chuck” in broad Lancastrian. Somehow I couldn’t see the West being won by that lot. The band tonight are gently entertaining, helped by good musicianship, an engaging frontman and Marybeth Epworth’s strong and sweet backing vocals. Apparently they’re stirring up a good deal of interest in alt-country circles but, for me, they got better when they shrugged off the country shackles and took a louder and rockier path, with Walking Back to Jesus Part 2 a particular highlight. (www.thebrokenfamilyband.com) Reviewed by Ged Billy Bragg has always been so much more than your average singer songwriter. Very much an accomplished public speaker, he is now so renowned as an orator he’s frequently wheeled out on Newsnight or Question Time for the voice of liberal England on the latest social or political issue. He treats his live musical performances in pretty much the same way, utilising the time between tracks with often lengthy but always witty and intelligent speeches about the latest issues to trouble him. His audience is made up almost exclusively of like minded late 30s/early 40s long term fans who hang on every well chosen word. It’s almost a shame that these words have to be interrupted occasionally by the music. And whilst that’s intended more as a compliment to Billy’s oratory skills than as a comment on his musical performance, there’s no escaping the fact that Billy’s half hour acoustic set alone towards the end of the night went down better with his audience than the fuller sound when accompanied by the Blokes. Indeed some of the old classics are murdered by the pub rock-ish backing band, particularly Upfield, which is transformed from being an uplifting brass fuelled Northern Soul stomper into a crumpled tuneless mess of guitars and keyboards. As expected Billy delivered a mix of some of his old gems, including New England, and the majority of the patchy England, Half English album, and as always lyrics are updated to suit changing times so “If you’ve got a website I want to be on it” is slipped effortlessly into the stirring Waiting for the Great Leap Forward. Glad to oblige, William. All in all, an enjoyable night but perhaps next time one that should go Back to Basics. Billy, Wiggy and a drummer would be nice. Reviewed by mawders |
 Travis / Doves (Wembley Arena)Doves can come across as a tad dull and sombre. Tonight they were a different prospect. With a mix of songs from Mercury-nominated 'Lost Souls' and their forthcoming album they made a perfect support for Travis; melodic, intelligent rock, less poppy, more contemplative than the headliners. Highlights were 'Here It Comes', 'Cedar Rooms' and a staggeringly brilliant rendition of 'Catch the Sun'. Halfway through the set Jimi Goodwin (vocals/guitar/drums for one song) asked if they were doing OK. Yep, they did better than OK. Travis didn't so much explode on stage as appear with a soft plop. The Kings of Dadrock were back with their infectious happy/sad ditties. They opened with 'Sing' and from then on it was sing-along-a-Travis. The set was predominantly drawn from 'The Man Who' and 'The Invisible Band' with a smattering of songs from their rockier first album 'Good Feeling', including the title track. After a few songs we got a filmshow instead of the uninspired backdrop. 'Indefinitely' had clocks, 'Last Train' had a train, 'Why Does It Always Rain On Me' had clouds and 'Flowers in the Window' had...er...flowers. This last, Fran Healy told us, was about unconditional love; they had it in the band and they made music while other people made babies. 'Turn' was introduced as the song that would finish off Fran's voice and he asked the crowd to sing with him. As if they needed telling. 'Pipe Dreams' was 'for people with dreams, and if you don't have dreams get some quick because the bus is leaving'. It's a long time since I've been to a gig with so much stage banter and Frannie had the crowd eating out of his hand. If Tim Nice-But-Dim had been there he would have said he was a bloody nice bloke. For the most part Travis provide easy listening pop/rock but they can get harder as in the live version of 'Writing to Reach You', 'All I Want to do is Rock' and set-closer 'Blue Flashing Light' (the hidden track on 'The Man Who'). I think they've got a bit of a stifled guitar hero in Andy Dunlop. After a short set (just over an hour) they returned for one encore. First up was a cover of 'Rocket Man' with Dougie Payne taking over vocal duties. When it came to 'Coming Round' Fran asked if any of the girls were any good at Gran Turismo. So Jenny from London was given a Playstation 2 control and her game was hooked up to the screenshow. Alas, Jenny from London was pretty crap at Gran Turismo. The set finished with 'Happy' from 'Good Feeling' which sounded for all the world like Status Quo. And happy was how everyone left. Reviewed by Sleezy For those of you that don’t know [What! not read our interview? – Incredulous Interviews Ed], Freeheat are Jim Reid and fellow former-Jesus and Mary Chain-ers Ben Lurie (gtr) and Nick Sanderson (drums), with Romi Momi (formerly of Gun Club) on bass. Ben’s amp even has ‘JESUS’ still stencilled on it, and when Freeheat turn up, plug in and rock out like an incarnation of JAMC it is not surprising (it is, after all, what we’re here for)! Familiar elements are present – Jim’s vocalisms/shy presence on stage and the wash of heavily distorted guitar over songs, plus energetic drumming and melodic bass. But it’s not the sonic assault I was lead to expect (a relief) – perhaps it’s my tinitis or the small size of the venue and the basic set up (an amp apiece), but the feedback doesn’t overpower the rest of the songs. Things start well with the pacey Baby G, which has a terrific groovy bassline, then onto the harmonies and great distortion of What Goes Around, a slow paced (almost ballady) Back on the Water and a looser feeling The Story So Far. Think of Stone and Dethroned, or Munki and you may not be far off the mark (some of the songs were even written before the demise of JAMC). Three tracks from the debut Retox EP [well worth getting by the way] get an outing, so it’s a chance to compare familiar songs with live performance and all fare well: Facing Up to the Facts is pretty much stomping JAMC by numbers (and that’s OK), Shine on Little Star, a lovely gentler fuzzy song with a clear melody, and The Two of Us, a duet with Romi, is almost poppy ( think Sometimes Always, and very good actually). It
all comes together well live, although critics might moan that a drawback of the formulaic
feedback approach is that after a period, of say 45 minutes, songs can begin to sound
‘samey’. You can long for something to leap out of the fuzzy fug rather than
having to strain for a melody but that’s a minor, and a lazy listener, gripe. In fact, I don’t even know why I mention it
when lesser bands (eg the JAMC-mimicking BRMC) not worthy of our attention [Er, no
soundsxp contributors’ squabbling here – Live reviews Ed] garner media acclaim. So,
isn’t it about time you switched on to Freeheat? Baby G/What Goes Around/Back on the Water/The Story So far/Facing Up to The Facts/Virtually Unreal/Shine on Little Star/Get on Home/Fucked Up Lover/The Two of Us/K Moon. Reviewed by Kev The Vines / The Libertines (Camden Monarch) There's been a bit of a buzz about the support act, the Libertines, for a few months now and they are already believing the hype, judging by the frontman's swagger onto the stage swigging water and then spray spitting it out. They’re young, eager, cocky and almost as hot as a firefly’s pants. Musically they begin like a pack of foxhounds who’ve just caught a whiff of Basil Brush’s bum, playing fast punky powerpop reminiscent of In the City era Jam, Caught By The Fuzz period Supergrass and courtesy of their second vocalist Car Trouble era Adam and the Ants. They have the looks, the record contract (Rough Trade) and soon they will either have their fifteen minutes of fame or disappear up their own backsides. Catch them in little venues like this whilst you still can (but just don't let them know you like them). Reviewed by mawders There’s a buzz of anticipation in the venue. We’re expecting to see an event and there are photographers galore to record it - I hope that was some NME journo’s foot I trod on in the crush. So anyway, Craig Nichols wanders on, shyly thanks London for the warm welcome and then becomes the centre of attention as he gets more and more animated, a process that culminates in him falling over, toppling his mike stand a couple of times and ripping the lead out of his guitar unintentionally. It’s just him being excitable but he can do the slow angsty numbers as well as the loud and shouty ones. Musically, the most obvious comparison is Nirvana when Kurt was being at his most melodic but sometimes the Vines give us 1-2-3-4 punk rock and sometimes they produce a more country-tinged or just a stoner melody. ‘Factory’ is a song that hits the spot so perfectly that you’re convinced you’ve known and loved it since you were a kid. And they have the balls to do a cover of Outkast’s ‘Miss Jackson’ to prove that the Vines can take music anywhere, at any tempo and in any style and prove its master. Creep along to see them while you can because they’re on a steep curve to becoming the NME’s next big thing anytime soon. Reviewed by Ged Idlewild (London Kings College) This gig was effectively a small venue warm-up for their national tour. It was also an early opportunity to hear tracks from their forthcoming album and on this showing it should be worthy of a purchase. At least two of the new tracks had a strong Smiths feel to them with Rod Jones’ guitarwork better than anything Johnny Marr has done since the Queen is Dead. Another was primetime mid-late 80s REM. These three slotted nicely in amongst the more familiar distinctive subtle powerpop riff numbers like Roseability, When I Argue and Captain. Sadly the gig was cut short due to technical problems which saw the band battle gallantly for almost their entire set against a duff PA, leave the stage for 10 minutes and quit before performing an encore. Still, fifty minutes of this left me one very happy punter. Reviewed by mawders Mazarin / Bearsuit / Motel (Upstairs at the Garage) Motel sucker us in with a couple of West Coast garage band tunes and then unleash a huge pulsing dark energy with more than a gramme of Nico and a Can of Krautrock behind it. Sinister and exciting. Mazarin played soaring guitar and organ pop with great verve and spirit. There are a pot pourri of influences but most prominent are the Byrds and Buffalo Springfield. They’re loud, fast, energetic and fun. This was our second Bearsuit gig in 10 days and each time it ended with us grinning like halfwits. They have a naïve and infectious charm which, allied to real musical talent, makes you hope that they’ll float in the pop cesspit (hopefully by standing on Oasis’s shoulders). They emerge from the crowd and pick up their instruments, and begin to demonstrate that they aren’t simply another shambling Peel favourite. There’s a strong indie core to the band but then that’s given frills – brass, keyboards, cowbells, kitchen pans…..plus Lisa Horton’s singing and shrieking. When it comes together, as it did tonight, it’s a rich and satisfying omelette of influences. In terms of songs, “Gazumper” and “Drinkink” at either end of the set are powerful and melodic. Things go wrong when Cerian’s keyboards don’t work on a couple of songs, but the resulting chaos is endearing rather than irritating. Finest song is the mighty “Hey Charlie, Hey Chuck”, great on record but incendiary live. It develops from a poptastic driving Cinerama melody, decorated with brass tralalas, that explodes at the choruses with Lisa’s whooping and strange sort of pogoing. The band’s sense of pleasure sweeps the modest audience along – the last band I saw with such an unadulterated sense of fun were the Parkinsons – but, really, they’re too good for just modest audiences. Go on – try on the Bearsuit. Reviewed by Ged
We saw two Goldrushes tonight. Named for a Neil Young song, the first incarnation lived up to the name and played classic American-influenced rock coming out of the same space as Grand Drive, Montrose Avenue and Teenage Fanclub. When they were good they were very good, as on the hook-laden set closer “Let You Down”. Their sound is epic and at the same time very personal, with lead singer Robin and guitarist Garo outstanding. But we saw another side of the band, as on a couple of songs they disappeared down the road to hell, whose tollbooth is manned by Starsailor and Travis. Worryingly, this was most evident on the single “Love is Here”. Epic again but self-consciously anthemic and a bit too stadium rock for ULU. For me it’s the first Goldrush that shows the promise. reviewed by Ged The ULU is one of my favourite venues; cheap beer,
surprisingly good acoustics and small enough to mean that you’re always reasonably
close to the stage to see everything. Tanya Donelly is an
accomplished singer song-writer with a very good new album and excellent musical history
to fall back on. She’s playing to an audience of long-term fans, who would
applaud her even if she played a set of Aboriginal folk tunes on a kazoo.
Marvellous, all set for a stonking good night then. Hmmm. So, why did I and
many others leave slightly disappointed? Well, I’m afraid it’s the old
chestnut of artists with a substantial back catalogue choosing to play their new material
at the expense of the older stuff that many people actually want to hear. Numerous
have fallen into this trap, The Smiths being the most glaring example. I don’t blame Tanya for ignoring the Breeders and
Throwing Muses stuff as she was never the head honcho in those bands. However to
ignore the material produced by Belly, with the exception of the terrific Slow Dog,
was very irritating. Unfortunately this was compounded by the delivery of a more
than liberal sprinkling of mediocre tracks from her poor debut solo effort, Lovessongs for
the Underdog. As Slow Dog wasn’t performed until the very close of the
gig this meant around 75 minutes of listening to a mixed bag of largely slow, sparsely
arranged, ethereal numbers. Many of these songs, particularly the newer ones, sound
quite beautiful when emitted from your hi-fi in the comfort of your living room with the
lights down low and a bottle of red by your side but over a long period of time, stood
behind a 6’ 3” chain smoking student they can become a little wearing. In
her defense, if you go to gigs to see a faithful reproduction of the recorded material you
already have then you’d find tonight’s performance pretty much faultless -
Tanya’s voice was as pure and as haunting as on CD and many of the new numbers are
wonderful. It’s just I wasn’t alone in missing the variety that playing a
few uptempo Belly numbers would have brought. Reviewed by mawders
Playing their first ever London gig, the young Norwich six piece, Bearsuit, had to compete against the distraction of half the audience chomping on pizzas in this quaint little venue. Fortunately their set was so enthralling that many a pepperoni went untouched. Uptempo and featuring keyboards, accordian, trumpet and flute in addition to drums, guitar and bass, they sped through nine catchy Wedding Present meets Liliput punk pop numbers, most accompanied by the helium voiced Lisa Horton on vocals. Cute, very appealing and verging on shambling (at one stage the bass drum nearly falls off the tiny stage) they are highly recommended if you like high speed girlie C86 with a touch of brass, sass and keyboards. Reviewed by mawders Don Nino are part of the new urban folk movement with strong jazz and bossanova inflections. Second on the bill as a sandwich filling between Bearsuit’s naïve and thrilling passion and Hermann Dune’s laidback American-esque charm, was probably the best place for them. Hermann Dune saunter on stage, dressed in clothes that wouldn’t set them apart from gas station attendants in some midwest town. Even Mr Byrite would turn them away. They then proceed to play songs best described as ‘lonesome’ that transport us from East London, via Sweden, to an America of their creation, all distance, heat and longing. They make intimate music loudly. It must be the fact that the band was created by David-Ivar Herman Düne and Andre Herman Düne more than ten years ago, but they have a quiet and compelling authority. The Velvet Underground influence is confirmed by a cover of Stephanie Says, while other songs remind you of a plaintive Neil Young. Standouts are the rocking With a Tankful of Gas, and the mournful and melodic Broken Down Hearts. It’s low-fi folk with a harder edge. Wonderful stuff, and if you were ever tempted by Americana, this Swedish brand has an flavour all of its own. |
Yeah
Yeah Yeahs/ The D4 / The Beatings (London, The Metro)
Hermann Dune / Don Nino / Bearsuit (Arts
Cafe, Aldgate East)