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 Model Morning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Model Morning. Show all posts
Wednesday, 1 December 2010
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
Wednesday, 19 April 2006
Setting The Scene
London Fields # 25
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 19 April 2006
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 19 April 2006
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here
How do you get to hear new music? Is it by listening to the radio, or reading online articles, forums and blogs? Perhaps through a friend’s recommendation, or else by following up an article elsewhere in this paper? Or maybe you just stumble across them by accident?
If I see one more time that a new British act is only successful because of NME hype, I think I’ll scream. Now I’ve made my feelings on the current incarnation of NME clear in the past, so I’ll try not to repeat myself too much here, but such labelling is disingenuous to say the least, as well as short-sighted, inaccurate and usually wrong.
One of the mainstays of British television [or cheap ways to fill a schedule] is the ‘list’ programme. Masquerading as a talking-head style documentary, these shows reminisce in a misty-eyed fashion over a past aspect of popular culture. This may be a period (e.g. I Love 1973), or an artificial construct (e.g. The 50 Greatest One Hit Wonders – this one actually is in production now – you can vote at Channel4.com). Anyway, one of these featured some music journos from the early 90’s boasting how they would create "scenes". The particular example cited was the Camden Lurch, a few bands thrown together and sold as a scene, even though none existed. So, they used to write about these in Melody Maker or NME, and make bets over whether they could get away with it. Funnily enough, one of the leading lights of this non-existent scene, Th’ Faith Healers, have recently got back together, and are playing London later this week, having warmed up with a mini US tour and SxSW appearance.
But NME is no longer cutting edge, or a style-maker; gone are they days where entire movements could be willed into being in their offices, and then sold worldwide. In the UK today, there is a raft of more powerful sources shaping the future music scene than the inkies of old. But the real reason for all this conjecture is this – what do you do if you come across a new band who are genuinely impressive? How can you heap praise upon them without being accused of creating hype? Or be guilty of building a bandwagon for others to jump upon?
The other week I went along to see what Mark Gardener (ex-singer of Ride) was up to nowadays. It looked like a good bill - the support act for the evening was Televise, a group formed by ex-Slowdive member Simon Scott. What I didn’t expect was for the first band of the evening to capture me so completely. Now there’s something a little special about the crowd that goes to Club AC30 events. They’re not snobbish, elitist or overly judgmental; they just wanna hear good music. Yet even so, the way they warmed to the opening act Model Morning was astounding.
Put simply, Model Morning is one of the most accomplished and exciting new acts I’ve seen in a long while. While watching them, I recalled the famous story of U2’s first London gig – playing to a mere 17 people at Islington’s Anchor and Hope. Now I’m not going to compare the two, but Model Morning play big, emotional music, and I think that they won’t be playing small gigs like this for too long.
So, how to describe them? Well, there’s a lot of ‘80’s sound in there, mixed in with early ‘90’s shoegaze. There are the echo-y guitar effects of A Flock Of Seagulls, the strong backbone of bass lines in the style of Simon Gallup of The Cure, and a little of the vocal style of Talk Talk’s Mark Hollis in the stylings of singer Peter Morley. Yet they are like none of these. I suppose they sound a little like how The Departure may have if that band had got it right.
Yet the band’s presence and assurance calls to mind The Strokes. Their arrangements seem surprisingly simple, but complexity and thought lie beneath the surface. The five members work so well together musically, complimenting each other and opening spaces for the songs to soar, or explode. The only thing holding them back at the moment is some awkward stagecraft. Afterwards I found out that this was only their second gig - it seems that they locked themselves away for a year rehearsing and honing the songs before playing live, so this will surely change.
So maybe it was just me who felt this way about them? Well, when the band came on stage, the dancefloor in front of the stage was virtually empty. People on it were standing as far back as they could, creating a great gulf between band and audience. As the set continued, people moved in closer, the applause after each song was more and more generous. By the end there were whoops and cheers, and undivided attention. Truly extraordinary.
If you search online, you won’t find much more about them than their MySpace site. But later this week they’ll be headlining Alan McGee’s Death Disco night, and Club AC30 will be releasing a six-track mini-album in the summer. They won’t be unknown for long. Remember you read about them here first.
© James McGalliard 2006
If I see one more time that a new British act is only successful because of NME hype, I think I’ll scream. Now I’ve made my feelings on the current incarnation of NME clear in the past, so I’ll try not to repeat myself too much here, but such labelling is disingenuous to say the least, as well as short-sighted, inaccurate and usually wrong.
One of the mainstays of British television [or cheap ways to fill a schedule] is the ‘list’ programme. Masquerading as a talking-head style documentary, these shows reminisce in a misty-eyed fashion over a past aspect of popular culture. This may be a period (e.g. I Love 1973), or an artificial construct (e.g. The 50 Greatest One Hit Wonders – this one actually is in production now – you can vote at Channel4.com). Anyway, one of these featured some music journos from the early 90’s boasting how they would create "scenes". The particular example cited was the Camden Lurch, a few bands thrown together and sold as a scene, even though none existed. So, they used to write about these in Melody Maker or NME, and make bets over whether they could get away with it. Funnily enough, one of the leading lights of this non-existent scene, Th’ Faith Healers, have recently got back together, and are playing London later this week, having warmed up with a mini US tour and SxSW appearance.
But NME is no longer cutting edge, or a style-maker; gone are they days where entire movements could be willed into being in their offices, and then sold worldwide. In the UK today, there is a raft of more powerful sources shaping the future music scene than the inkies of old. But the real reason for all this conjecture is this – what do you do if you come across a new band who are genuinely impressive? How can you heap praise upon them without being accused of creating hype? Or be guilty of building a bandwagon for others to jump upon?
The other week I went along to see what Mark Gardener (ex-singer of Ride) was up to nowadays. It looked like a good bill - the support act for the evening was Televise, a group formed by ex-Slowdive member Simon Scott. What I didn’t expect was for the first band of the evening to capture me so completely. Now there’s something a little special about the crowd that goes to Club AC30 events. They’re not snobbish, elitist or overly judgmental; they just wanna hear good music. Yet even so, the way they warmed to the opening act Model Morning was astounding.
Put simply, Model Morning is one of the most accomplished and exciting new acts I’ve seen in a long while. While watching them, I recalled the famous story of U2’s first London gig – playing to a mere 17 people at Islington’s Anchor and Hope. Now I’m not going to compare the two, but Model Morning play big, emotional music, and I think that they won’t be playing small gigs like this for too long.
So, how to describe them? Well, there’s a lot of ‘80’s sound in there, mixed in with early ‘90’s shoegaze. There are the echo-y guitar effects of A Flock Of Seagulls, the strong backbone of bass lines in the style of Simon Gallup of The Cure, and a little of the vocal style of Talk Talk’s Mark Hollis in the stylings of singer Peter Morley. Yet they are like none of these. I suppose they sound a little like how The Departure may have if that band had got it right.
Yet the band’s presence and assurance calls to mind The Strokes. Their arrangements seem surprisingly simple, but complexity and thought lie beneath the surface. The five members work so well together musically, complimenting each other and opening spaces for the songs to soar, or explode. The only thing holding them back at the moment is some awkward stagecraft. Afterwards I found out that this was only their second gig - it seems that they locked themselves away for a year rehearsing and honing the songs before playing live, so this will surely change.
So maybe it was just me who felt this way about them? Well, when the band came on stage, the dancefloor in front of the stage was virtually empty. People on it were standing as far back as they could, creating a great gulf between band and audience. As the set continued, people moved in closer, the applause after each song was more and more generous. By the end there were whoops and cheers, and undivided attention. Truly extraordinary.
If you search online, you won’t find much more about them than their MySpace site. But later this week they’ll be headlining Alan McGee’s Death Disco night, and Club AC30 will be releasing a six-track mini-album in the summer. They won’t be unknown for long. Remember you read about them here first.
© James McGalliard 2006
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