live Reviews

Festival Fever? I’m sick of it

It’s all over, you say? Finally I can rejoin the world again. By this, of course, what I really mean is that it’s once more safe to read a magazine, safe to venture onto Twitter and Facebook (in fact, the internet as a whole, really), and finally safe to turn the radio and television back on. Why this unilateral disengagement with all forms of broadcast media, I hear you inquire? Well you clearly went to Glastonbury festival this year, because anyone who didn’t simply wouldn’t have to ask.

Every year it’s the same; for Glastonbury weekend we’re inundated – nay, bombarded – with festival features and special reports and ‘front line’ coverage, the sum total of which can be summed up as “Look at me! I’m having such a good time! And I’m with all these famous people!”. But this kind of behaviour is limited to pundits and ‘personalities’ no more: the advancing blitzkrieg of social media means that the “see how much fun I’m having” impulse is virtually inescapable. Even a few short years ago it wasn’t too hard to ignore: all you had to do was steer clear of Radio One and turn off the telly, but now, thanks to the ubiquity of smartphones and mobile apps, we can all get a running minute-by-minute commentary of the ‘exciting events’ as they unfold. I’m sure a good many of my friends can’t have actually seen any of the acts last weekend for staring at their tiny screens, such was the frequency of their posting.

And I’m not being this grouchy and cantankerous purely out of jealousy. Aside from the irritation of being constantly reminded that I’m ‘missing out’, I’m not actually missing out at all. Festivals are, in a word, rubbish, but sadly my opinion is not shared by everybody. Most people, my limited anecdotal evidence suggests, absolutely love festivals, and it appears that the festival circuit is one of the few areas of the music industry that’s still in rude health. There’s hundreds of the darned things, covering every genre imaginable, and they’re springing up all over the place – I’d be very surprised if there hasn’t been one this summer within a few miles of where you live. And yet for all the fuss, all the hype, all the enthusiasm, who are we really kidding? Music festivals have as much to do with music as McDonald’s does to food. Don’t get me wrong, live music is great, but in a field? Through a completely inadequate PA? With ridiculously overpriced food and drink? In the rain? Considerably less great, I’m sure you’ll agree.

Of course, these are things you already know. Every man jack of you could tell me that festivals are all about ‘the experience’, and there’s the rub; it’s not an experience I have any interest in. I’m not a complete misanthrope – I can boogie on down with the best of them at a proper gig – but my capacity for hanging around in big crowds listening to tinny, indistinct dance music died with my teens. And there’s something about festivals that completely fails to bring out the best in bands, too. The restrictions on the band’s set list being the main culprit for sub-par performances: it’s got to be short (usually 15-20 minutes), so there’s no time to warm up or find a groove. And of course it has to be appropriate to the atmosphere. More so than in any other situation, a band’s set has to fit the mood of the whole event, which invariably means that the songs have to be the ‘up beat’ ones; this is no time for subtle introspection. And naturally you’ve got to play the hits; the eclecticism of festival line-ups means that only a small proportion of the audience are there to see a specific band, so winning over new fans is the prime priority for any performer, alongside appeasing the indifferent. I hear Mumford & Sons gallantly slotted a few new numbers into their Friday night appearance on the Other stage; they probably had trouble hearing themselves over the cries of “play Little Lion Man again!”

So is there any good news on the horizon? Every year there are more and more reports of festivals having to cancel due to “funding gaps” but alas there are, at least for now, the exception that proves the rule. With the public’s seemingly vast current appetite for festivals, and with everyone cashing in left right and centre there’s bound to be a few that miss the mark. But from tiny acorns mighty oaks do grow, so I’ll keep praying for the end of festival fever, but for now complete disengagement is the only sane option, at least until winter. If anything can be relied upon to put a stop to outdoor revelry it’s the British weather.

Mumford & Sons – Below My Feet (live at Glastonbury ’11)


Mumford & Sons – Hopeless Wanderer (live at Glastonbury ’11)


You can buy the Mumford’s first album here.

White Elephant: Toodar

If you’ve ever had a tune stuck in your head then you’re perfectly normal, it would appear.  There’s plenty of scientific research going on at the moment to unravel the phenomenon of “earworms”, as they’re being called, and it seems that about 90% of us get one at least once a week.  Sadly about 15% of us say their earworms are “disturbing” and up to a third think they’re “unpleasant”.  Check out this link to find out more about the earworm research, as well as this episode of Radio 4′s phenomenally excellent program Material World.*

I know first-hand that it can be dreadful when you get a rubbish song (more often than not, just one line) going round and round and round in your head, but every so often I get an earworm that actually improves my day.  I’ve had Ten Paces by Toodar running through my head on-and-off for well over a week now, to the point where I even catch myself humming it when I’m trying to listen to other songs.  Thankfully the reason for this obsession is that Ten Paces is by far and away the best song I’ve heard all year.

Toodar first came to my attention a few weeks ago, when the endearingly quirky home-made video for their track Toy dropped into my inbox and compelled me to investigate their myspace, and last night I finally got to see them live.  They were playing the Camden Barfly in advance of a mini-tour which starts on Monday, and I’m pleased to report that the Toodar live experience is equally as good as their recorded output.  To be honest, that took me by surprise.  The production on their recordings is so taut, so refined, so precise, that I was fully expecting the inevitable sloppiness of most live acts to seep into their performance, but somehow they managed, if anything, to be even tighter when playing live.  The rhythm section was the slickest I’ve seen in a long time (by a country mile), the keys and electronic ephemera were handled with a discerning touch and subtlety that one doesn’t normally come across in venues such as the Barfly, and the vocals were expertly delivered from a fine set of lungs.  What impressed me most, however, was seeing a front man who was quite clearly an adept guitar player, but also one who knew when not to play (a skill most emphatically not displayed by the first act on the bill, I might add).

Of course, all this precision and virtuosity would be for naught if Toodar didn’t have the songs to back it up.  I’ve already stated my love of Ten Paces and Toy, and thankfully I can report that the rest of the set was of an equally high standard.  If you’re stuck in the Big Smoke you can next catch them live in December, but for those of you further afield (though perhaps not too far) be sure to check their myspace for details of next week’s tour; you’d be a fool to miss out on a chance to see them.

Toodar – Toy


Toodar – Ten Paces


 

*Material World’s host, Quentin Cooper, would be top of my “who would you invite to your dream dinner party” list.

The return of “Later…”

This week the thirty-seventh series of Later… with Jools Holland kicked off with it’s 250th episode.  I’m in two minds about the show, to be honest.  On the plus side, it’s easily the best music performance show on telly, and on the down side, it’s easily the best music performance show on telly…  Surely this can’t be all that the idiot box has to offer? 250 episodes and no-one’s come up with anything better? I have to say the formula is starting to wear a little thin at the seams: the token “world music” band, the “kooky” act that gets one song in the middle, Jools’ dreadful boogie-woogie jams with any band that’ll let him (despite the fact he can’t really play anything other than white notes), the fading legends trading on nothing more substantial than their (long-past) previous successes and, worst of all, the interminable “chats” that Jools insists on conducting…  If there’s somebody out there more unsuited to interviewing than Jools is, I’ll be very surprised.

And yet it remains the doyen of music television, unequalled, unchallenged and unimpeachable.  Just as I cite its formulaic nature as a downside, it could be argued that its consistency is the seed of its success; both in terms of the accessibility of the show no matter how disparate the guests appear, and the consistency of the bookings.  The roll-call of acts that have appeared on the show is impressive, to say the least, and Later… is still the place to launch a new band’s success.  Careers are often quite literally constructed overnight on the hallowed boards of Television Centre (will KT Tunstall and Seasick Steve please stand up?).  And as a television show where the actual filming of the music takes priority (the audience are squeezed in around the edges of the studio, with the prime spots going to the cameras themselves) Later… is still pretty much unique.  Live from Abbey Road was a commendable attempt to take the concept even further, but without a live audience or compere (no matter how cheesy) it somehow felt disjointed and cold.  As much as I may niggle and gripe from the safety of my own home, there’s no denying that Jools is at the helm of a veritable national treasure.

Sadly, the opening episode of series 37 wasn’t hiding any gems and was swamped by erstwhile dinosaurs-of-rock the Manic Street Preachers, while the Klaxons and Mark Ronson each contributed their fair share of dirges to further sully the proceedings.  From my experience as a viewer, it seems that bands I already really like tend to deliver stale, flat performances (The National can hold themselves guilty on this front), whereas whenever I’ve been thoroughly blown away by an astounding performance it’s always been by an act I’ve never heard of.

The last time this happened was at the start of the last series, when Yeasayer completely knocked me for six with their live version of Ambling Alp.  Yeasayer are a band who’ve been loitering at the edges of my awareness for quite a while, but this was the first time I’d paid them any attention, and I dutifully went and bought their latest LP Odd Blood, only to be left feeling somewhat deflated.  The record’s okay, don’t get me wrong, but the Later… performance had been amazing; yet another instance of a band who’re at their best when seen live, further proven, following some extra research, by their Later… performance in support of their previous album, All Hour Cymbals – the track 2080 sounds positively rubbish on record, but is a completely different beast when seen live.  It would appear the art of delivering a good TV performance is a strange kind of alchemy, and one that’s completely distinct from the process of either recording or playing a regular live gig, and it’s one that Yeasayer have mastered with great aplomb.

Yeasayer – 2080 (live on Later…)


Yeasayer – Ambling Alp


Yet more Frightened Rabbit shenanigans…

Ah, as the release date for A Winter of Mixed Drinks fast approaches (March 1st) we’re being treated to yet more Frightened Rabbit goodness.  The band have released the album track Fun Stuff for fans to download, and there’s now also a competition (gosh, how exciting!).

Fun Stuff first emerged last year when a demo titled Last Tango in Brooklyn started doing the rounds.  Other than the change of name, there’s not much that’s changed in the song – the production on this new version is just a bit slicker, as one would expect from an album cut.  As a song, it’s what we’ve come to expect from Hutchison & co. Bitter and acerbic, after the lairy roustabouts that were the previous two singles, Swim Until You Can’t See Land and Nothing Like You, it’s nice to hear hints of the softer touch that made Midnight Organ Fight such a lasting success.

As for the competition, head over to the band’s Muzu channel for the full lowdown (as well as a few FR videos too).  Submit a cocktail recipe (see what they did there?) by the 15th Feb. to be in with a chance of winning free FR gig tickets and an after-show drink with the band.

Frightened Rabbit – Fun Stuff


Frightened Rabbit – Be Less Rude (live)*


*From a Daytrotter session they did back in ’08, just to bulk the post up a bit.

Scavengers: Matthew and the Atlas

MattewAndTheAtlasI caught Matt Hegarty, who trades under the moniker Matthew and the Atlas, live at the Zenith Bar in Islington a week or so ago [note: this was in June 2009].  I was thoroughly impressed with what I saw and managed to wheedle an EP out of the guy, and I’m pleased to report that, much like his performance that night, it’s excellent.

I’m not normally a fan of husky, honeyed vocals but in this instance I feel I must make an exception.  His delivery is probably best described as “soulful”, but that term’s been so over-used by music hacks that it merely sounds trite and meaningless here.  Suffice it to say there’s enough gravel in his voice to impart plenty of bluesy imagery, but with enough genuine personality to prevent it coming across as too mannered.  And while all this was very impressive in a solo acoustic performance, the record itself takes things to another level entirely.

Normally the addition of banjo/slide-guitar/etc is merely par-for-the-course for solo singer/songwriters, but in this case they are handled with such subtlety and grace that the end result far exceeds the sum of its parts – a depressingly uncommon occurrence in my experience.  The scope of this record is vast, especially as it’s merely a self-released EP.  I’ll cut this review short here, as I’m in danger of dissapearing in a whirl of hyperbole and over-enthusiasm.  Just have a listen to the tracks bellow; they’ll tell you far more than I ever could (surely a prime example of the benefits of mp3 blogging over print-media).

It looks like Matthew’s being a busy bee vis-a-vis gigs this summer, so if you get the chance I heartily recommend checking him out.

Matthew and the Atlas – Scavengers


Matthew and the Atlas – Hide Under the Sun*


*there’s only one download with this post, as this is only an EP.

Until the Traffic Stops: Alex Cornish

alexcornishThis is a joint album and live review, as I managed to get see Alex Cornish live at St-Giles-in-the-Fields church (just behind Denmark St, for those of you in the know) within a day of receiving my copy of his album, Until the Traffic Stops.

The venue itself made quite the impression; I wasn’t even aware that it hosted music events at all, but it appears that they regularly put on classical recitals there.  Being as Alex and his band were being joined by a string quartet for this gig it certainly seemed an apt setting, as the excessive reverb afforded by churches is rather flattering to strings.  Add to this the gaudy gilding of the god-fearing in the subdued light of a nicely-dressed stage (complete with desk lamps and fairylights) and a distinctly partisan crowd, and my expectations for the evening were rather high.

The story behind Alex’s album is also quite a nice one.  Fed up of being a city-bound desk-jockey, he upped-sticks and moved to an Edinburgh bedsit where he recorded the record all on his lonesome.  Following a low key release the record generated far more attention than was expected, including plaudits from Radio 2, XFM and 6 Music, and now Alex’s found some management and is re-releasing Until the Traffic Stops.

Sadly I have to report that the gig itself didn’t quite live up to the hype.  To my ears the mix in the venue was somewhat “off”; what with the string quartet and the nature of the songs it should have been an epic anthem-fest, but for some reason the music always seemed to lack the necessary punch, even when all the performers were properly “rocking out”.  The muddiness of the mix was to be expected from such an echoic venue, and is ultimately a minor quibble, but I just couldn’t escape the fact that the music’s full potential wasn’t being reached.  Coupled with the uncomfortable pews on which we all sat I ended up with rather a dim opinion of the gig.  In retrospect it did have its moments, though.  The highlight of the show for me was when Alex himself took up a violin and displayed an unexpected aptitude for the thing, and once the band had warmed up the final songs of the set were actually rather engaging.

As for the record, the production values are very high considering it’s a bedroom job done by Alex’s own hand.  Here the more anthemic songs are given full reign to fulfil their potential far more effectively than they managed to at the gig.  In fact hearing them in this form leaves me hoping to catch Alex again at a more acoustically flattering venue.  Ultimately I think the songs, delivery and production are too polished and MOR than regular readers of this site (and I myself) have a taste for, but I can see him going far.  The record’s already received a fair amount of attention from Radio 2 (which is in my opinion this album’s spiritual home), but if they pick it up properly then I can easily imagine Alex Cornish comfortably gracing coffee tables accross the nation.

Alex Cornish – My Word What a Mess


Alex Cornish – The King of Hearts


Bearfaced Podcast 06: Part “B” – Tom Stephens and the Retreat

Podcast 6BHere it is, as promised: Part “B” of Bearfaced Podcast 06.  Last week, in Part “A”, I was talking about the up-coming releases that have piqued our interest here at Bearfaced Towers, and this week I had the honour to be joined in the studio by Tom Stephens and the Retreat.

The whole band came in and recorded a couple of “live” tracks for us, and the next day Tom Stephens (lead vocals and guitar) and Tom Cornish (lead guitar and backing vocals) came in for an interview, where they deigned to play us an acoustic version of their new song Olivia.  The interview stayed surprisingly on-topic (especially given Bearfaced interviews’ past form) and as a result you can hear the guys regaling us with tales about being an independent band out-and-about on the mean streets of London, as well as enlightening us with regard to their songwriting process.  All lovely stuff, I’m sure you’ll agree.

The band has undergone a bit of a line-up change since I reviewed their EP last year, and their “sound” has also evolved quite a bit too.  As always you can find the Bearfaced Podcast in iTunes, but if you’d rather just download the individual episode then you can do that from the Bearfaced Website here.

Tom Stephens and the Retreat – Olivia (Bearfaced Session)


Tom Stephens and the Retreat – This Town (Bearfaced Session)


The Brightness: Anaïs Mitchell

anaismitchellOn Wednesday I found myself in the delightful Kilburn venue that is The Luminaire watching Anaïs Mitchell.  Anaïs has previously slipped completely under my radar, and it wasn’t until this gig was recommended to me by a friend that I did some digging and found a copy of her latest LP, The Brightness.  Now to a stranger I would best describe her as “very much like Ani DiFranco”, but I know at least one person who’d bite my head off if I was to do that.  It’s no suprise then to learn that she’s signed to Ani’s Righteous Babe Records.

There is certainly no better venue for seeing an acoustic singer songwriter than The Luminaire.  The PA is superb (and the space seems to have been properly “acoustically treated”), the floors and walls are clean, and the whole place is littered with “Shut Up!: we didn’t pay to hear you talk” signs.  That, coupled with the fact that the place was rammed with her die-hard fans, seemed to make for quite a special evening, for Anaïs at least.  Personally I’m of the opinion that there’s nothing more undignified than singing along at a gig, so the crowd was bound to annoy me.

Another factor contributing to my increasingly foul mood was the sheer conceit of the girl.  Now don’t get me wrong, she seemed all kinds of nervous and was certainly humbled by the presence of so many fans, but she kept banging on about an “opera” that she’d written.  The songs are, in a word, excellent, and her finger-picking guitar style is brutal and superbly original.  So what am I getting all het up about, I hear you ask? As a said before: the bare faced cheek of it all.

I’m no opera purist, but from the examples she played us I can’t say I’m expecting any genuine arias or cantatas.  I gather that it’s a (sadly less than subtle) take on the sorry, sorry tale of Orpheus (one of the more heart-wrenching Greek myths) but set in a “dystopian, post-apocalyptic depression-era American town”.  For sure it’s somewhat current thematically, but La Muette de Portici it ain’t… Many believe that concept albums went the way of the dodo along with the Golden Age of Prog’, but happily it’s a form of LP still in existence today.  The main difference now is that they’re never mentioned explicitly.  The themes are more subtle, more obscure; and while an album may tell a story or have a single thematic thread, no one feels the need to shout about it.  As I said, her songs are excellent, and slowly picking up on Orpheus/Euridice references throughout a conventional album would probably be quite a rewarding experience.  Except it never will be, as she’s intent on ramming her intentions down out throats.

In short: The Brightness is a fairly good album, her songs are really good, and she puts on a good show.  But please, in the name of all that is right and proper, give her a slap if you hear her talking about her “opera”.

Anais Mitchell – Old-Fashioned Hat


Anais Mitchell – Your Fonder Heart


The News Quiz

newsquizI’m starting to realise I’ve become a full-on BBC addict, especially now I’ve discovered that I live close enough to Broadcasting House and Television Center to get tickets to see some of my favourite shows.  My treat this week was going to a recording of The News Quiz last night (recorded the night before the friday broadcast to keep things topical).

There were three things that came to me as a surprise about the recording: Firstly it takes nearly two hours to record a 28 minute show.  This I was expecting, but I thought it was because they only used the funniest bits – it turns out that it’s all funny, but their lawers won’t allow them to broadcast most of it.  It was considerably closer to the bone than it appears on air…

Secondly, Charlotte Green looks absolutely nothing like her voice sounds.  As a long time listner to both the show and Radio 4 in general this came as quite a shock given that I had a distinct mental image of what she looked like.

Thirdly, and most suprisingly, it took about two hours to get throgh the door.  They had airport-style security gates – I had to remove my belt to walk through a metal detector and was then thoroughly frisked by a very severe looking guard.  I never knew topical comedy was so secure…

This week’s episode featured Jeremy Hardy, Andy Hamilton, Danielle Ward and Fred Macaulay alongside host Sandy Toksvig and the with inimitable Charlotte Green reading out the news clippings.  If you missed it on the radio you can hear it via the Friday Night Comedy Podcast, or on the BBC iPlayer for the next 7 days.

Strauss & Respighi: BBC Concert Orchestra

bbccoLast week I dragged myself all the way to the Watford Colosseum to see a workshop by Charles Hazlewood and the BBC Concert Orchestra.  It was called a Homage to Ancient Music and focused on both (Richard) Strauss’ Divertimento on themes by Couperin, and Respighi’s The Birds; both of which are 20thC works that paid homage to works from the Baroque/Renaissance (and therefore “early”).

Recorded by BBC Radio 3 as part of their Discovering Music series, it was always going to be an interesting lecture.  Hazlewood is one of the more populist composers/broadcasters on the BBC’s payroll, and he’s of the firm belief that classical music should be for everyone.  Thankfully this doesn’t mean that he’s at all condescending or patronizing in his approach, but merely results in his lectures being accessible to anyone, no matter what their knowledge level.  If you have no musical-theory knowledge at all you’ll find this an insightful and engaging look at some unfamiliar pieces, and if you are a theory wiz’ there’s still enough technical detail to keep you happy as well.

Recorded orchestral music just can’t compare to witnessing it in the flesh.  The BBC Concert Orchestra (in this instance augmented with a harpsichord to provide “period” example of the source material) are consummate professionals and it was a joy to see them at work.  I shan’t go into the detail of the workshop here: you’ll have to wait for the show’s broadcast date (I’ll post a reminder when I know the actual date it’ll be going out on) which will be on a Sunday afternoon/evening.  That way you’ll also get to hear my dulcet tones on national radio, as I asked a very astute and intelligent-sounding question at the end.