London Fields # 85
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 1 December 2010
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here
In these days of the so-called ‘firework career‘, it’s rewarding when good acts manage to survive, even when fame remains elusive and circumstances are difficult. During November I saw album launches from two of the three acts I marked for greatness in my end of year writers poll for 2006 (regrettably Model Morning never got that far). Back then I had a bet with Evi Vine that when her album came, it should be short listed for the Mercury Music Prize that year. But her band fragmented, years passed and when she joined supergroup The Eden House I feared that chances of this ever happening were remote. Meanwhile I Like Trains signed to Beggars Banquet and released a debut album, but then found themselves label-less in the merger of Beggars and 4AD. Four years later in some kind of synchronicity both Evi Vine and I Like Trains have self-funded the recording and release of albums without the use of traditional record companies.
It seems somewhat ironic that the London launch of He Who Saw The Deep, the second album from I Like Trains, is taking place during a strike by Tube drivers. The recording was financed via fan pledges, and this sort of dedication ensures that the gig is well attended in spite of the travel woes. When they take to the narrow stage of The 100 Club it’s immediately clear that something isn’t quite right - their drummer is missing! It transpires that Simon, who I’d seen earlier on the merch stand, has a broken leg, so Scott Hislop from Kyte is filling in. I Like Trains have always been much more than the sum of their parts - a clear example of the chemistry between the players creating something special. Even though Scott does a fine job, the show was noticeably affected by the change of those elements. So while the guitars chime clearly (augmented by Ian Jarrold of the late Redjetson), the bottom end never sounds quite right. If tonight isn’t quite their night, Hope Is Not Enough and lost b-side Victress and still shine, and it seems you may well be able to see this consistently great act for yourself soon as Japanese and Australian dates are pencilled in for 2011.
Rising rents mean that The 100 Club is yet another live venue threatened with closure. Only this week the owners of The Luminaire, without doubt the best live venue in London, announced it is closing in a month due to financial pressures. I last ran into Evi Vine at when I Like Trains played The Luminaire last year (and actually first met her in a queue to see them back in 2006). Eighteen months later her long-promised album is finished, but The Social seems a strange choice for her album launch as it’s more a club space than a live venue. Daunting would be the best description of having to begin a show just after This Mortal Coil’s cover of Song To The Siren has been played, yet Evi turns it into an opportunity by singing along with Liz Fraser’s landmark vocal as a microphone check. When the song ends and the band begin, the background chatter virtually disappears, and I’m quickly reminded of why this voice and these songs floored me four years ago.
Her debut album ...and so the morning comes is a very different beast to the one she might have recorded back in 2007, but some of the songs remain, albeit radically reworked. The original drummer Steven Hill is now on guitars and effects, and it’s wonderful to see all but one of that earlier line-up here in the audience to support her tonight. The live renditions are better than the album, the seeming simplicity and restraint of the stripped-back arrangements make the voice and song all, and sometimes I forget other musicians are on the stage until they chime in. She maps the human heart, sometimes living in the dark places while hoping for the light, at others seeming to finally find a happy place, if only for a fleeting moment. Evi herself is a mixture of fragility and strength; I’m reminded of a Prince Rupert's Drop - glass which can take a hammer blow, but can also shatter explosively. The hauntingly beautiful love song The Colours Of The Night becomes a persistent earworm for days afterwards, the harp here replaced by a picked guitar which actually feels purer. They finish with Time Flies, and the pent-up energy pours out in a dazzling climax - something very special indeed.
Perhaps it was in some way fitting that the release version of Evi’s album wasn’t actually ready on the night. Like the long-promised remasters of My Bloody Valentine, it seems to slip just a little further into the future, tantalisingly out of reach, untouchably desirable. When it does come, I just might keep a closer eye on the Mercury that year.
© James McGalliard 2010
Showing posts with label Evi Vine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Evi Vine. Show all posts
Wednesday, 1 December 2010
Wednesday, 5 September 2007
Runaround Getaround
London Fields # 43
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 5 September 2007
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here
There have been many changes to the live scene in London over the years, but one of the largest occurred in the past month. The Mean Fiddler Group sold virtually all its remaining venues, and even its name, to Mama, the company behind the Barfly group of venues. They had already sold The Forum (formerly The Town & Country Club) to them, and the latest package added The Borderline, Camden’s Jazz Café, the original Mean Fiddler in Harlesden and The Garage at Highbury. This seems good news, especially as both Harlesden and The Garage have been closed for some time, but staff I spoke to were uncertain of their futures. Reports say that Mama is also in talks to grab the Academy venues, which if successful would mean a virtual monopoly on larger venues in the capital.
Personally, I prefer the smaller places, especially the award winning The Luminaire in Kilburn. A full house is 275, and that includes bands, staff and guest list. All around the venue are signs telling you to shut up during performances, or leave. Wonderfully nearly everyone respects it. Seeing Mark Eitzel previewing the work-in-progress material for the next American Music Club LP with only an acoustic guitar was special indeed – even bar orders were whispered, and tills closed quietly.
Things were a little different as I ventured deep in the deepest heart of the East End to catch Evi Vine. The venue turned out to be a squatted community centre. It was like the days of illegal raves - folks were smoking inside; the bar was a bloke with a household fridge, and the toilets had been cleaned sometime last year. Yet it was alive and vibrant and filled with a desire to take music back to the people (except for the high door charge and beer prices). I left about 1am, but the bands played on for several hours afterwards.
I also spent a splendid afternoon at one of the summer Sunday barbecues held at The Windmill in Brixton. While not the best place to see bands, the afternoon was great value for money and tremendous fun. Witter were having fun (as were we), as they did a set entirely of BritPop covers - from Popscene to Common People, from Menswe@r to Suede. Later in the day came The Victorian English Gentlemens Club, the karaoke pop of Tim Ten Yen, and the day ended with Hot Puppies, whose vocalist is a modern Martha Davis, and whose joie de vivre was infectious.
Which was a marked contrast to the inaugural Field Day in Victoria Park in Hackney. Two understaffed bars could not cope with the needs of 10 000 punters, and after queuing over an hour for a beer, you then had a 30 minute wait for a loo. The large number of bands playing meant that each was restricted to a mere thirty minutes. Worst of all were the sound restrictions, which saw Archie Bronson Outfit shut down before even finishing their allotted time. The only acts to survive this environment were the Archies, an incendiary finish from Liars and Kid Harpoon, who has added a band to create Pogues-style mayhem. The day was a great idea, but a mess in reality.
The ramifications of the smoking ban are still being felt. At The Barfly in Camden, outside smokers became rowdy and aggressive as a fire escape door remained closed, meaning they had to walk 20 metres to get back in. Club nights at Koko (the former Camden Palace) have taken things to further extremes. In order to pop outside for a ciggie, smokers are first electronically fingerprinted. They then have 7 minutes to be back inside, supposedly to stop them grabbing a drink elsewhere while they’re out. With the drink prices at Koko, I’m not surprised that this time limit incentive is needed.
But if you think that’s an invasion of civil liberties, it’s lucky you weren’t at one of the V Festival in Staffordshire last month. Like something out of John Carpenter’s They Live, police employed a spy saucer which even at a height of 100 metres is invisible to the human eye. Originally designed for military use, this drone was equipped with high-resolution cameras and infrared capability, but for now not actually used over the main arena, for fears of injury should it crash into the crowd. And you thought zipline cameras were a nuisance…
Last month I wrote about the return of the ‘70’s with Palladium. Better by far are Pirate Casino – imagine Paul Weller covering Bob Seger‘s Nightmoves and you’ll get an idea. Here guitar solos are shameless – and the band is seamlessly professional. While not my scene, I can see them going far – look what pastiche did for Jet and The Darkness! But most interesting is that these ‘70’s-inflenced acts are bringing something truly wonderful to London’s Indie scene – some racial diversity. Usually the exclusive preserve of white middle class kids, both Palladium and Pirate Casino are attracting a black audience to the white enclave. And that can only be a good thing.
© James McGalliard 2007
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 5 September 2007
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here
There have been many changes to the live scene in London over the years, but one of the largest occurred in the past month. The Mean Fiddler Group sold virtually all its remaining venues, and even its name, to Mama, the company behind the Barfly group of venues. They had already sold The Forum (formerly The Town & Country Club) to them, and the latest package added The Borderline, Camden’s Jazz Café, the original Mean Fiddler in Harlesden and The Garage at Highbury. This seems good news, especially as both Harlesden and The Garage have been closed for some time, but staff I spoke to were uncertain of their futures. Reports say that Mama is also in talks to grab the Academy venues, which if successful would mean a virtual monopoly on larger venues in the capital.
Personally, I prefer the smaller places, especially the award winning The Luminaire in Kilburn. A full house is 275, and that includes bands, staff and guest list. All around the venue are signs telling you to shut up during performances, or leave. Wonderfully nearly everyone respects it. Seeing Mark Eitzel previewing the work-in-progress material for the next American Music Club LP with only an acoustic guitar was special indeed – even bar orders were whispered, and tills closed quietly.
Things were a little different as I ventured deep in the deepest heart of the East End to catch Evi Vine. The venue turned out to be a squatted community centre. It was like the days of illegal raves - folks were smoking inside; the bar was a bloke with a household fridge, and the toilets had been cleaned sometime last year. Yet it was alive and vibrant and filled with a desire to take music back to the people (except for the high door charge and beer prices). I left about 1am, but the bands played on for several hours afterwards.
I also spent a splendid afternoon at one of the summer Sunday barbecues held at The Windmill in Brixton. While not the best place to see bands, the afternoon was great value for money and tremendous fun. Witter were having fun (as were we), as they did a set entirely of BritPop covers - from Popscene to Common People, from Menswe@r to Suede. Later in the day came The Victorian English Gentlemens Club, the karaoke pop of Tim Ten Yen, and the day ended with Hot Puppies, whose vocalist is a modern Martha Davis, and whose joie de vivre was infectious.
Which was a marked contrast to the inaugural Field Day in Victoria Park in Hackney. Two understaffed bars could not cope with the needs of 10 000 punters, and after queuing over an hour for a beer, you then had a 30 minute wait for a loo. The large number of bands playing meant that each was restricted to a mere thirty minutes. Worst of all were the sound restrictions, which saw Archie Bronson Outfit shut down before even finishing their allotted time. The only acts to survive this environment were the Archies, an incendiary finish from Liars and Kid Harpoon, who has added a band to create Pogues-style mayhem. The day was a great idea, but a mess in reality.
The ramifications of the smoking ban are still being felt. At The Barfly in Camden, outside smokers became rowdy and aggressive as a fire escape door remained closed, meaning they had to walk 20 metres to get back in. Club nights at Koko (the former Camden Palace) have taken things to further extremes. In order to pop outside for a ciggie, smokers are first electronically fingerprinted. They then have 7 minutes to be back inside, supposedly to stop them grabbing a drink elsewhere while they’re out. With the drink prices at Koko, I’m not surprised that this time limit incentive is needed.
But if you think that’s an invasion of civil liberties, it’s lucky you weren’t at one of the V Festival in Staffordshire last month. Like something out of John Carpenter’s They Live, police employed a spy saucer which even at a height of 100 metres is invisible to the human eye. Originally designed for military use, this drone was equipped with high-resolution cameras and infrared capability, but for now not actually used over the main arena, for fears of injury should it crash into the crowd. And you thought zipline cameras were a nuisance…
Last month I wrote about the return of the ‘70’s with Palladium. Better by far are Pirate Casino – imagine Paul Weller covering Bob Seger‘s Nightmoves and you’ll get an idea. Here guitar solos are shameless – and the band is seamlessly professional. While not my scene, I can see them going far – look what pastiche did for Jet and The Darkness! But most interesting is that these ‘70’s-inflenced acts are bringing something truly wonderful to London’s Indie scene – some racial diversity. Usually the exclusive preserve of white middle class kids, both Palladium and Pirate Casino are attracting a black audience to the white enclave. And that can only be a good thing.
© James McGalliard 2007
Wednesday, 27 December 2006
Remembering 2006
London Fields # 34
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 27 December 2006
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here
It’s slightly strange for me to say that 2006 was a good time to be in the UK as I spent nearly two months of it over in Australia. Although the vibrant live scene is a valid reason for missing the place, it’s becoming harder to justify remaining in London. The problem isn’t the weather, nor the high cost of living, but the undercurrent of fear which permeates the entire society. Australia is lucky to be without this feeling of dread and the sense of bubbling aggression; tempers are often short and you need to put on a hard emotional shell just to go to the shops.
Sometimes it is worth the effort to get out though. After a ten-year gap, Paul Buchanan toured twice, playing the songs of The Blue Nile. The opening show at the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester was simply wonderful; silence followed each track as the audience were afraid to break the spell; this was followed by mad and extensive applause and cheering! Mogwai also floored me, but the highlight of the year was watching over twenty members of Swedish mega-group I’m From Barcelona cram onto a small stage in Hoxton, and then invite members of the audience as temporary performers, breaking down the role between artist and audience, and providing one of the most joyous and exciting musical experiences in years.
New discoveries included iLiKETRAiNS (a brilliantly original act, creating magic in an age of science), Model Morning (determinedly stunning), and the truly extraordinary Evi Vine - an enormous talent with a breathtaking voice and presence, working with a group of musicians who bring her dark swirling worlds vibrantly to bitter and beautiful life.
But some older names played too, with varying success. Ian McCulloch loving the sound of his croon, and giving us reason to do so as well, made the current incarnation of Echo and the Bunnymen a vital force, despite a mediocre drummer. Heaven 17 returned to live performance, and Glenn Gregory’s voice is better than ever. John Foxx has finally successfully fused then and now, with the assistance of long-time collaborator Louis Gordon. But the eighties revival was also responsible for the most indulgent twaddle of the year, a solo performance by Thomas Dolby, his first gig in the UK since the early ‘90’s. There was barely room on stage for his ego, and he talked and talked, which meant even some of his great early material was marred by his persona. For the encore, he brought his kids on stage, and then played a track with his teenage daughter, who was dressed as Dolby was in his heyday. Yeech!
Other disappointments? Hope Of The States split after releasing a lacklustre second LP. Editors’ relentless tour of The Back Room found them playing enormous venues, but saw a previously great live act become one without edge or direction. Watching The Drones only London show, I thought of The Emperor’s New Clothes. They failed to sell out, despite the small venue, and I can’t see them finding more than a niche market here - Britain just won’t gel with what they do at all.
It wasn’t a great year for albums either. The Long Blondes should have waltzed away with LP of the year, but their rough edges were sanded down in the production process, leaving Someone To Drive You Home sounding a little lifeless. Better was The Veils work with Nick Launay on Nux Vomica - they produced a notable second debut (well, it is an entirely new band) and the live shows matched the album’s intensity. My Latest Novel showed how powerful and punchy the basic ingredients of twee pop could be made, while Archie Bronson Outfit, consistently one of the best live acts on the circuit, captured an inkling of their power on Derdang Derdang.
Television saw David Tennant take over in Doctor Who, but the second season was less reinvention and more a continuation of the original series, and suffered because of it. “Adult” spin-off Torchwood was no more than mildly diverting, despite some nice ideas and acting; Life On Mars was more successful and blending sci-fi and drama for evening viewing. The second series of Extras was still funny, but all the characterisation that marked the first series was gone. Little Miss Jocelyn was probably the best new original comedy. In radio, DAB (digital audio broadcasting) continued to grow, and BBC 6Music’s output made a DAB radio a near essential purchase.
In 2007, we can look forward to a new Prime Minister, terrorist fears, the introduction of National Identity Cards and lots of mirroring of New Labour from David Cameron. Musically look out for debut albums from Apartment, iLiKETRAiNS and Fields, and second albums from Editors, Bloc Party and The Duke Spirit. As long as nastiness doesn’t erupt, it could be a great year…
© James McGalliard 2007
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 27 December 2006
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here
It’s slightly strange for me to say that 2006 was a good time to be in the UK as I spent nearly two months of it over in Australia. Although the vibrant live scene is a valid reason for missing the place, it’s becoming harder to justify remaining in London. The problem isn’t the weather, nor the high cost of living, but the undercurrent of fear which permeates the entire society. Australia is lucky to be without this feeling of dread and the sense of bubbling aggression; tempers are often short and you need to put on a hard emotional shell just to go to the shops.
Sometimes it is worth the effort to get out though. After a ten-year gap, Paul Buchanan toured twice, playing the songs of The Blue Nile. The opening show at the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester was simply wonderful; silence followed each track as the audience were afraid to break the spell; this was followed by mad and extensive applause and cheering! Mogwai also floored me, but the highlight of the year was watching over twenty members of Swedish mega-group I’m From Barcelona cram onto a small stage in Hoxton, and then invite members of the audience as temporary performers, breaking down the role between artist and audience, and providing one of the most joyous and exciting musical experiences in years.
New discoveries included iLiKETRAiNS (a brilliantly original act, creating magic in an age of science), Model Morning (determinedly stunning), and the truly extraordinary Evi Vine - an enormous talent with a breathtaking voice and presence, working with a group of musicians who bring her dark swirling worlds vibrantly to bitter and beautiful life.
But some older names played too, with varying success. Ian McCulloch loving the sound of his croon, and giving us reason to do so as well, made the current incarnation of Echo and the Bunnymen a vital force, despite a mediocre drummer. Heaven 17 returned to live performance, and Glenn Gregory’s voice is better than ever. John Foxx has finally successfully fused then and now, with the assistance of long-time collaborator Louis Gordon. But the eighties revival was also responsible for the most indulgent twaddle of the year, a solo performance by Thomas Dolby, his first gig in the UK since the early ‘90’s. There was barely room on stage for his ego, and he talked and talked, which meant even some of his great early material was marred by his persona. For the encore, he brought his kids on stage, and then played a track with his teenage daughter, who was dressed as Dolby was in his heyday. Yeech!
Other disappointments? Hope Of The States split after releasing a lacklustre second LP. Editors’ relentless tour of The Back Room found them playing enormous venues, but saw a previously great live act become one without edge or direction. Watching The Drones only London show, I thought of The Emperor’s New Clothes. They failed to sell out, despite the small venue, and I can’t see them finding more than a niche market here - Britain just won’t gel with what they do at all.
It wasn’t a great year for albums either. The Long Blondes should have waltzed away with LP of the year, but their rough edges were sanded down in the production process, leaving Someone To Drive You Home sounding a little lifeless. Better was The Veils work with Nick Launay on Nux Vomica - they produced a notable second debut (well, it is an entirely new band) and the live shows matched the album’s intensity. My Latest Novel showed how powerful and punchy the basic ingredients of twee pop could be made, while Archie Bronson Outfit, consistently one of the best live acts on the circuit, captured an inkling of their power on Derdang Derdang.
Television saw David Tennant take over in Doctor Who, but the second season was less reinvention and more a continuation of the original series, and suffered because of it. “Adult” spin-off Torchwood was no more than mildly diverting, despite some nice ideas and acting; Life On Mars was more successful and blending sci-fi and drama for evening viewing. The second series of Extras was still funny, but all the characterisation that marked the first series was gone. Little Miss Jocelyn was probably the best new original comedy. In radio, DAB (digital audio broadcasting) continued to grow, and BBC 6Music’s output made a DAB radio a near essential purchase.
In 2007, we can look forward to a new Prime Minister, terrorist fears, the introduction of National Identity Cards and lots of mirroring of New Labour from David Cameron. Musically look out for debut albums from Apartment, iLiKETRAiNS and Fields, and second albums from Editors, Bloc Party and The Duke Spirit. As long as nastiness doesn’t erupt, it could be a great year…
© James McGalliard 2007
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
