London Fields # 41
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 11 July 2007
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here
Ostensibly my reason for travelling to Dublin was to catch one of the "rehearsals" that R.E.M. held over five nights at the Olympia Theatre there. "This Is Not A Show" stated the projection behind them, and in many ways it wasn’t – the idea was to road test new songs for their partly recorded next LP. But it did provide an opportunity to catch one of the biggest bands in the world in a comparatively intimate venue, and the trip overall provided me with an unexpected reflection of life in London as well.
The last time I was in Dublin was in October 2001, in the aftermath of September 11. This trip coincided with the attacks on London’s West End and Glasgow Airport, which insured lots of shenanigans getting through security procedures, as it had nearly six years earlier. But the city has changed so much over the period. Like London, the influx of workers from Eastern Europe has had a visible aspect, both in the rise of specialist shops, and in those employed as waiting and cleaning staff. It seems as if the divide between rich and poor has widened too; there are far more beggars on the streets. Near Parnell Square I see a bottle shop where the worker is behind bulletproof glass with a small bank teller like window to distribute the booze. Making the purchases are a couple of scangers, the Irish version of the chav.
I catch up with an old friend, someone I met on my first trip here in 1990. He’s a musician who has toured the world in an award-winning band. He tells me that although rental prices in the city have increased astronomically, the average income has not followed suit. Rising rents means that many of the beautiful old bookshops near Trinity College have had to close, or move to cheaper premises elsewhere.
The one thing Dublin has retained, and possibly its greatest tourist attraction, are its many bars. It’s such a contrast to London, where those remaining pubs that haven’t been closed and converted into flats are often nearly identical, as part of large chains. There a very few places in central London where you’d be tempted to have more than a swift one on your way somewhere else. In Dublin, it never more than a stone’s throw to the next pub, but they’re actually places you’d want to stop and spent time in. The Stag’s Head is probably my favourite, even seamlessly absorbing the after show crowds from the nearby Olympia Theatre.
The biggest change to Dublin’s pubs has been the rise of the "beer garden" following the introduction of the smoking ban a few years back. Often these are little more than a small covered area for smokers to huddle into, and while the pubs seem quieter, but they still have retained the atmosphere without the smokehaze. But land values have risen so much that there is talk that even the famous Guinness Brewery at St James’s Gate may be up for development as luxury flats, such is the value of the land in the current climate.
My old friend also worries about the lack of variety in the Dublin music scene. While their rock industry bible HotPress celebrates its 30th Anniversary, and the Oxegen Festival is national news, he tells me that while the scene is buzzing, there a few acts not aping what they see as the current "NME taste". In fact, the only newish act he could recommend had just called it a day. Which is all the sadder as HotPress has retained some of the more in-depth journalistic pieces that the present-NME abandoned in favour of a Smash Hits-style presentation.
It was on my last night that I saw R.E.M. and they played an uberfan’s set – asides from the new material, it was all early IRS-period material with Harbourcoat and the entire Chronic Town EP. Some things are the same everywhere, like the couple who elbowed their way beside me just before the band began, and then spent the first two (new) songs nattering about how exciting it was to be there, her pausing only to yell "We love you Michael" repeatedly. But two things told me I wasn’t in London at the gig. Firstly the amazingly well-run bar, and secondly no one would choose London audiences as a testing ground for new material. While London is seen as old and set in its ways, Dublin is still perceived as somewhere willing to embrace the new.
© James McGalliard 2007
Showing posts with label NME. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NME. Show all posts
Wednesday, 11 July 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
Wednesday, 14 December 2005
A Rough Guide
London Fields # 21
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 14 December 2005
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here
"Does Camden Town really exist?" she asked me. It’s just after Faker have finished their final gig of their UK Tour [bottom of a bill of three acts on a quiet Wednesday night], and I’m talking to a 19 year old who’s only been in London a few weeks. "Well, I think I was there the other night", she continues, "but I can’t be sure if it was real or if I dreamed it…"
Camden used to be fabulous, a weird hybrid of Fitzroy and St Kilda. But no more - now you can’t get five paces without the ubiquitous offers of "skunkweed". It’s a journey to a destination, not a place to hang out in. Hoxton’s a much better bet, if you can cope with the coolsie factor.
Then she asked, "Are the Carling Venues the places to go?" The Melbourne equivalent would be "Can I catch upcoming acts cheap at The Metro and The Palace?" Some Aussies come to London and choose to live in SANZA share houses, get their news from TNT (a magazine for Antipodean travellers), and the Metro (a freebie morning tabloid, produced by Express Newspapers), go to Aussie pubs, and listen to JJJ on the internet. (By the way, SANZA is a horrible TNT-created acronym – lumping together all English conversant Southern Hemisphere travellers into the one basket – South Africa, New Zealand and Australia. Eek!). And of course, this lot go and see Aussie bands. In fact, now that you get pints in Melbourne pubs, some of them may as well have never left Australia at all.
But in deference to those seeking more, and as a Yuletide special, here are some handy hints which you may not find in your Lonely Planet or Let’s Go, especially for those who are making travel plans for a UK trip in 2006.
Gig Tickets. Beware of the sting of booking fees and postage costs – even though normal ticketing agents, a £12 ticket can easily jump to a £20 outlay. The trick is to buy in person, where possible. You can get tickets at face value for all Mean Fiddler venues from the Camden Ticket Office or Astoria box office, and the same applies at the Academy box offices for their venues. Of the agents, Stargreen are the best by far – reasonable fees, and friendly people. For some venues [Barfly, Scala] there is no place to buy without fees, so it’s a case of shopping around for the best deal. But don’t take too long as gigs are selling out in minutes, snatched by those hoping to turn a quick profit on eBay. To stand a hope, sign up for ticket alerts [Get Live, Ticketmaster, and Ticketweb] as these often offer gig presales.
Mailing lists are a great way to save money and find out what’s happening. Sign up to those from The Barfly, Plum Promotions [for The Marquee, Water Rats and Betsey Trotwood] and The Social. Check the websites for Bugbear Bookings [for Dublin Castle and The Hope and Anchor] and Up All Night Music for bands further down the pecking order. To save money, check the HMV and Virgin Megastore websites for free instore appearances. Join Artrocker – if you want Aussie bands, you could have seen Wolf & Cub, Love of Diagrams, Sinking Citizenship, Die! Die! Die! and The Grates, all for free in the last year alone. To find out what’s new, listen to BBC 6Music, or try XFM in the evenings. Also keep an eye on the websites Drowned In Sound, Sounds XP and Club AC30.
For a comprehensive 'What’s On', there’s nothing to beat Time Out. NME is no longer worth buying, but is worth flicking through for the live ads. Get The Guardian on a Saturday for The Guide. Try reading The Independent to get an overview of where you are, and what’s happening in the world. Eat at a caff and read their copy of The Sun – with three million copies sold a day it’s a window onto aspects of British life. As for music shopping, HMV is huge, and tempting, but Fopp is cheaper. There are some great second-hand shops, but you can find them for yourself…
Finally, don’t spend all your time in the capital; London is not the British Isles, or even England. Try living in Bristol, Manchester, Glasgow or even Dublin. They all have enough to offer that’s unique and interesting, and are large enough to get many of the acts that people stay in London to see.
I know a few people who have gone back to Melbourne because this place just really got to them after a while. It’s like surfing with really big waves – when things are going well, the rush is incredible, but when you get dumped it’s ten times worse than anything you’ve experienced before. The overriding thing is not to let London drain you of your creativity and spark. When you feel it’s time to move on, just do it.
Good luck and happy travels!
© James McGalliard 2007
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 14 December 2005
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here
"Does Camden Town really exist?" she asked me. It’s just after Faker have finished their final gig of their UK Tour [bottom of a bill of three acts on a quiet Wednesday night], and I’m talking to a 19 year old who’s only been in London a few weeks. "Well, I think I was there the other night", she continues, "but I can’t be sure if it was real or if I dreamed it…"
Camden used to be fabulous, a weird hybrid of Fitzroy and St Kilda. But no more - now you can’t get five paces without the ubiquitous offers of "skunkweed". It’s a journey to a destination, not a place to hang out in. Hoxton’s a much better bet, if you can cope with the coolsie factor.
Then she asked, "Are the Carling Venues the places to go?" The Melbourne equivalent would be "Can I catch upcoming acts cheap at The Metro and The Palace?" Some Aussies come to London and choose to live in SANZA share houses, get their news from TNT (a magazine for Antipodean travellers), and the Metro (a freebie morning tabloid, produced by Express Newspapers), go to Aussie pubs, and listen to JJJ on the internet. (By the way, SANZA is a horrible TNT-created acronym – lumping together all English conversant Southern Hemisphere travellers into the one basket – South Africa, New Zealand and Australia. Eek!). And of course, this lot go and see Aussie bands. In fact, now that you get pints in Melbourne pubs, some of them may as well have never left Australia at all.
But in deference to those seeking more, and as a Yuletide special, here are some handy hints which you may not find in your Lonely Planet or Let’s Go, especially for those who are making travel plans for a UK trip in 2006.
Gig Tickets. Beware of the sting of booking fees and postage costs – even though normal ticketing agents, a £12 ticket can easily jump to a £20 outlay. The trick is to buy in person, where possible. You can get tickets at face value for all Mean Fiddler venues from the Camden Ticket Office or Astoria box office, and the same applies at the Academy box offices for their venues. Of the agents, Stargreen are the best by far – reasonable fees, and friendly people. For some venues [Barfly, Scala] there is no place to buy without fees, so it’s a case of shopping around for the best deal. But don’t take too long as gigs are selling out in minutes, snatched by those hoping to turn a quick profit on eBay. To stand a hope, sign up for ticket alerts [Get Live, Ticketmaster, and Ticketweb] as these often offer gig presales.
Mailing lists are a great way to save money and find out what’s happening. Sign up to those from The Barfly, Plum Promotions [for The Marquee, Water Rats and Betsey Trotwood] and The Social. Check the websites for Bugbear Bookings [for Dublin Castle and The Hope and Anchor] and Up All Night Music for bands further down the pecking order. To save money, check the HMV and Virgin Megastore websites for free instore appearances. Join Artrocker – if you want Aussie bands, you could have seen Wolf & Cub, Love of Diagrams, Sinking Citizenship, Die! Die! Die! and The Grates, all for free in the last year alone. To find out what’s new, listen to BBC 6Music, or try XFM in the evenings. Also keep an eye on the websites Drowned In Sound, Sounds XP and Club AC30.
For a comprehensive 'What’s On', there’s nothing to beat Time Out. NME is no longer worth buying, but is worth flicking through for the live ads. Get The Guardian on a Saturday for The Guide. Try reading The Independent to get an overview of where you are, and what’s happening in the world. Eat at a caff and read their copy of The Sun – with three million copies sold a day it’s a window onto aspects of British life. As for music shopping, HMV is huge, and tempting, but Fopp is cheaper. There are some great second-hand shops, but you can find them for yourself…
Finally, don’t spend all your time in the capital; London is not the British Isles, or even England. Try living in Bristol, Manchester, Glasgow or even Dublin. They all have enough to offer that’s unique and interesting, and are large enough to get many of the acts that people stay in London to see.
I know a few people who have gone back to Melbourne because this place just really got to them after a while. It’s like surfing with really big waves – when things are going well, the rush is incredible, but when you get dumped it’s ten times worse than anything you’ve experienced before. The overriding thing is not to let London drain you of your creativity and spark. When you feel it’s time to move on, just do it.
Good luck and happy travels!
© James McGalliard 2007
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