Midyear Malaise

London Fields # 66
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 24 June 2009
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here

In the northern hemisphere, as well as being the longest day of the year, the solstice is considered to be the first day of summer. Hence the beginning of the northern summer also marks the halfway point of the year, and I’m finding myself a little out-of-step with 2009. The temptation to spend an evening at home, rather than out watching music gets ever stronger. Nothing would persuade me to go to the Glastonbury Festival now (even though some friends have flown over from Oz just for it). It’s just too large now; smaller events like Latitude or Truck are far more tempting, as you can actually see the bands. While I can keep up with developments in music via MySpace and YouTube (and Glasto is on TV anyway), nothing matches the experience of a live band on the right night. On those nights I’ve been glad I got off the couch, or even went further a field for the experience.

At the Deaf Institute in Manchester, My Latest Novel played their first English show in several years. Selecting material almost exclusively from their yet-to-be-released second album Deaths And Entrances may have been a gamble, but I was both entranced and transported by the spirit of the band, their musical progression and the sheer joy of the inspiring music they created. Similarly, when I Like Trains played at The Luminaire for the launch for a Belgium Festival, most of their set was work-in-progress, some still without titles. The change to a four-piece has seen a shake-up their world view, and the new songs premiered showed that they are writing material of a different hue than they have so far released.

The innate experience and skill of The Bats shines through whenever they perform (as does their charm). They effortlessly recreate their sound in the basic set-up of The Brixton Windmill, and there are lots of older songs sprinkled amongst most of The Guilty Office (although sadly no Trouble In This Town or Made Up In Blue). Promoters (and label) Club AC30 can always be relied upon to provide gigs of quality, and The Bats supported Crystal Stilts for them at The ICA the following night. But a far more impressive show came at another AC30 show early the next week, when Stephen Lawrie used Doncaster three-piece 93MillionMilesFromTheSun as a backing band to perform a set of Taste-era material of his band The Telescopes. The result was punishingly brutal, but brilliant!

It doesn’t always go so well. I bought a ticket for The Gaslight Anthem mainly to catch their support for the tour, Frank Turner. Now I’ve seen Turner triumph at small gigs, and win over large festival crowds, but this middling-size audience proved a tough size to crack. Still, he did better than the headliners, whose repetitive songs seemed honed for audiences who wanted Bruce Springsteen 1978-85, without any of the slow ones, but with added ‘indie’ cool. I didn’t stay for the whole show; neither did I make it through all of doves on their recent tour. Before they hit the encore, I hit the pub next door – only to see rafts of attendees who hadn’t lasted as long as I did. And although I waited until the end of The Longcut at The Luminaire, things didn’t get much better than they began. The live sound was messy, and the band failed to find that elusive groove.

I’ve no interest in the daily reports of Blur (PLC) playing ‘secret’ show after ‘secret’ show. I don’t understand why White Lies end up on high rotation and brilliant releases like that by Joe Gideon & The Shark remain unnoticed. Over at the Enterprise, I catch Kid Harpoon, playing again as a solo performer. It makes me sad that music as fresh as vibrant isn’t being heard as it should. Since I last saw him, he’s recorded an album, scrapped it, re-recorded it and had Nambucca, the venue he lived about, and called home, burn down. Tonight sees him playing a piano-led paean in his memory, whilst older unreleased songs like Colours and Late For The Devil draw a strong response, and I fear the bouncing floor may give way during a rousing version of The Milkmaid.

Sometimes it feels like a lone battle against mediocrity. There are some great acts out there, and concepts like Bandstand Busking offer some hope. But is it enough to ward off the repercussions of five years of unthinking cover versions from TV talent shows? Just when I feel I may be losing it all, I run into someone who has worked with many of the bands I rate or care about. Over the next few hours that we end up chatting, on numerous occasions he stops and hugs me, merely for the opinions I express. So then I start to wonder, is that I am off the ball, or is just that most of the current music is just dull and unimaginative? Let me know…


© James McGalliard 2009

I wander thro' each charter'd street

London Fields # 37
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 21 March 2007
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here

Most of my free time recently has been taken up with flat hunting, as unexpectedly my (rented) home for the past four years has been placed on the market. While the vagaries of the London property market or an examination of the worlds revealed by snooping into other people’s homes, could both make worthy column topics, I really just don’t want to think. So rather bemoan my lot, maybe it’s better to write about some acts I’ve recently seen while not flat hunting?

American bureaucracy forced My Latest Novel down to London to apply in person for their visas for SxSW. Luckily for us, they thought to offset their expenses by playing a one-off show at The Spitz. They are serious but not sombre, and occasionally whimsical. What they play is neither fey, nor twee; Ryan’s drumming and the power of the vocals pack too much of a punch for that. They are masters of the dog-leg song; ones that start off in one direction, then, just when you think you have them sussed, veer off at right angles. Like when Wrongfully I Rested goes to a xylophone, then the violin swoops down and carries the song away. It’s a short-ish set tonight, but the highlights for me are two new songs, I Declare A Ceasefire and If The Accident Will. They clearly show that Wolves was no firework fluke, and that the second album promises to be wonderful rather than difficult.

I caught The Long Blondes twice this month. I thought their debut album was one of the biggest disappointments of 2006; such was the opportunity squandered. Then at their headline NME show, I realised the sad truth – that it was an accurate representation of the homogeneous band they’ve become. Yet as a support to Kaiser Chiefs a mere fortnight later they shine again, it’s roughly the same show without the lowlights. I still think their move towards being Kate Jackson and The Long Blondes is a grave mistake, but hey, it worked for Blondie. Speaking of new wave maestros, am I the only one who thinks that Kaiser Chiefs are today’s equivalent of The Police? Think about it - simplistic songs with singalong choruses that can be learnt on one listen. They put on a mighty fine show too, but sadly over familiarity via saturation airplay may well breed contempt a second time.

Each time I see Apartment, they give me new reasons to continue to rate them as highly as I do. At The Borderline, it was the daring to cover Willie Nelson’s Crazy (as immortalised by Patsy Cline), and to not only get away with it, but to make it entirely their own. There are now many strong tracks that it feels like a greatest hits set, and David’s complete demolition of a guitar during set closer Beyond My Control is the first time I’ve seen it done and not felt it was childish or unnecessary posturing. And they’ve signed Tim Ten Yen to their label Fleet Street Records, and will be releasing his debut single, Run Around (Get Around).

Tim Ten Yen is possibly the most arch creator of pure pop tunes since the heyday of The Reels! Tall, and wearing a suit, there’s a tiny bit of Nick Cave, a huge dollop of Neil Hammond, and even a sprinkling of Pee Wee Herman. It’s camp and vaguely silly, but as it’s done with such panache and humour he gets away with it. The songs are written to be remembered on first listen; his dance moves may take longer to pick up. For what you effectively have is someone who looks like a city worker running round like Bob Downe doing Ian Curtis, singing songs about bears and foxes up in the mountains. But TTY isn’t just limited to pop; his set touches reggae and country & western, even leaving room for a paean to MOR. So, what on one level is a giant karaoke show, with a besuited man running on the spot, adding occasional live Casio accompaniment, becomes one of the most endearingly funny and original things I’ve seen in ages.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club are a strange beast. They play to a formula but are in no way formulaic. They have pretensions, yet still seem to be honest and genuine. Theirs is a simple colour palette: white, red and black, with a misting of dry ice. Tonight they get all the big numbers out of the way early, which allows them to get on and just play. And when they get going they’re like some relentless juggernaut. Playing a one-off gig in a beautiful Art Deco ballroom to preview songs from the forthcoming Baby 81, BRMC demonstrate that they have moved on from Howl, but the acoustic guitars that were the backbone of that album are still in place, but now playing rock. It’s hard to really let go at their shows as they don’t – they may be an extremely good live act, but while enthusiastic they never seem impassioned. So when the audience go nuts for Punk Song, they don’t. Nevertheless, I’m still looking forward to seeing them again in a month.

By which time I hope normal service have been resumed, from a new home (if I can find it)…

© James McGalliard 2007

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

Next Wave

London Fields # 32
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 1 November 2006
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here

The live scene in London is probably the healthiest it’s been for any time in the last thirty years. But the sheer popularity has led to its own problems - big, rowdy crowds in large anonymous rooms leading to less-than-enjoyable nights. So now a night at the Brixton Jamm is better than one at the Brixton Academy, and the 250 capacity Luminaire in Kilburn certainly deserved winning the Time Out award as best venue over many of its better known competitors.Not that going smaller means missing out though.

There’s a great chemistry between the four members of Bethnal Green based Apartment. Around 18 months ago they were in a similar position to Editors. But Apartment took a slower route, choosing to release a few independent singles and then setting up their own label, Fleet Street Records. The time involved has led to a richer and more integrated live sound, helped by the addition of occasional keyboards by frontman David Caggiari. He has a great voice, and he knows it, but sings without pretension. The evolution is evident on their forthcoming debut album The Dreamer Evasive, which will be released early in 2007, and is even better than their live performances or singles indicated. Their days in small venues are numbered.

With Hope Of The States splitting earlier this year, I wondered who was might fill that gap by creating big emotional music? Look no further than Leeds-based iLiKETRAiNS, who sing of doubt and times lost - things that have slipped away or been forgotten. Recently signed to Beggars Banquet, their songs are explorations of real people and events, such as chess legend Bobby Fischer, or Dr Beeching, whose ideas led to the slow demise of the UK Railways. But the standout is Terra Nova, which relates the thoughts of a doomed Captain Scott as his expedition lies dying in Antarctica in 1912 – it’s probably the finest song of the year. On stage, they dress in British Rail uniforms – these clothes represent another lost era, as this nationalised rail company was smashed up and sold off by Thatcher. Complemented by projected images, they create huge rolls of sound that wash over you, full of feeling and anguish, the trumpet and shoegazey guitar duelling with one another, sending shivers up the spine. How rare it is that the singer in not the focus - the individual becomes unimportant, - it’s all about the sounds created when the five of them collide. It’s just so incredibly powerful – there really is no one else like them.

But the first time I saw them they were was at a Sonic Cathedral night curated by Fields, who also have a huge live sound and the potential to leave you standing in awe. Their music is hard to describe – a bit folky but with a darker undercurrent, the best songs working on the interplay between the acoustic guitars, the powerful drumming, and the big builds to huge the vocal choruses. I didn’t think they’d be able to produce that studio sound live, but they open with Song For The Fields, all doubts vanish and I’m instantly hooked. Officially they’re only released one 7” single and a four-track EP, but there are currently 20 tracks downloadable via their website. Nick from the band said he liked fans to see the evolution of the material, and so was happy to share it. It certainly didn’t do Arctic Monkeys any harm either. They’ve just finished recording their first album with noted rock producer Michael Beinhorn for Atlantic Records. They’re supporting Wolfmother on the NME Tour this month, and will be playing with Bloc Party both in the US and the UK early next year; so it won’t be long before they get the recognition they warrant.

Fields do also remind me a little of the acoustic side of Seafood as well. Remember them? Yes, they’re still around. Since their last trip to Australia, they signed to Cooking Vinyl, released two albums, lost their bass player, and singer David Line has suffered a collapsed lung (twice). With all this adversity, and a lack of airplay for new album Paper Crown King, I travelled down to Brighton to catch the final gig of the current tour, fearing that all this adversity would be too much to bear. Before the show guitarist Kevin Penney assured me that if they were going to quit, they would have done it long ago. While it was by no means the best show I’ve seen them play, they are still a great act, which deserves to be much more popular than they are. Perhaps the difficulty is in the variety of music they produce – how does the hard rock fan handle a song from The Wicker Man? It’s a difficult line for them to walk, and in trying to address the balance, the new LP lacks some of the charm of As The Cry Flows. The good news in the current album may yet get Australian release in 2007, and they’d love to tour there again.

Don’t miss My Latest Novel or Archie Bronson Outfit when they tour either. But all this is just the tip of the iceberg. There’s also Vatican DC, who have one of the most arresting frontmen since Julian Cope, and Spotlight Kid who had my heart leaping with joy, and…


© James McGalliard 2007