The T Is For Texas

London Fields # 99
First published Inpress (Issue # 1204), Melbourne on 14 December 2011, and in Drum Media (Issue # 1090), Sydney on 13 December 2011
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here

I’m not sure if it’s just people I know, but at this time of year the interest in Top Ten lists feels like something that’s escaped from the pages of High Fidelity. These tend to make me reflect on the fact that music was a big factor in abandoning my native Melbourne for the comparative anonymity of London, and further realise that I haven’t really written much about it since returning from Primavera Sound back in May. This year it did feel that the festival was beginning to be a victim of its own success, but PJ Harvey still provided a captivating 75 minutes making the large expanses feel intimate, while the first public performance of the return of Pulp met and exceeded all reasonable expectations. Here also The National finally achieved what they’ve been on the verge of on so many occasions I’ve seen them over the years – finally capturing that heartbreaking melancholy and delivering a powerful and sustained emotional punch throughout their early evening set. A secret highlight was eschewing both The Walkmen and Grinderman to see Smoke Fairies deliver what could have been the performance of the festival to a small but gripped crowd.

The most enjoyable performances of this year’s Camden Crawl could be found in the front lounge of the Spread Eagle, where Andy Ross curated a wonderful two days of performances. The larger shows there were more of a mixed bag with S.C.U.M (supporting Killing Joke) a particular lowlight (strange as they’ve gone on to produce one of the best albums of the year), but my overall highlight was Mat Motte’s deranged take on pop. I caught the new expanded line-up of Spotlight Kid on various occasions, as the year progressed they became an ever-more cohesive live outfit. Seeing Veronica Falls play their upbeat pop on a Dalston rooftop made the August riots seem very far away while Still Corners only seemed to gain by losing a member as they became a more striking live proposition as a four piece. Elsewhere Esben & The Witch were remarkable for refusing to pander to the conventions of live performance. However my pub gig of the year would have to be The Horrors at The 100 Club; their star has now risen so high that shows of this small a scale are virtually unknown, and this night was allowed the rare pleasure of a close-up insight into how Skying was created. 2011 was a certainly a year for veterans, especially from Manchester. James toured the country with an orchestra, their set mostly kept away from the hits and concentrated on rarer album tracks and early numbers. Thankfully WU LYF showed that not everything in Manchester was about the past, which was just as well as The Stone Roses announced their reformation and most of New Order reassembled for live dates. Their contemporaries The Cure certainly had all made friends again as Lol Tolhurst joined them as they played their first three albums in their entirety at the Royal Albert Hall. I even saw Blancmange and Modern English this year, so it certainly sometimes felt like another decade. That said, Scritti Politti’s Christmas shows in Dalston proved that some sounds are indeed timeless.

But there’s been one artist who both live and on record has been the key player of 2011 and his name is Josh T Pearson. It saw him begin the year in the tiny environs of The Slaughtered Lamb and end at the prestigious Barbican Hall in November. His album Last Of The Country Gentlemen brought about this remarkable change in his fortunes, but its success was also a bind, as it saw him having to relive the disintegration of his marriage on stage night after night. Sometimes the shows felt like an elaborate game, as he challenged his audiences to be quiet enough to hear his near-whisper on stage, while the terrible jokes he told between songs served as some respite from the soul-baring examinations of his compositions. My hope for 2012 is that he will be able to put this elongated catharsis to rest and bring his new-found audience with him. Finally any discussion of live music in London this year must also mention the loss of its best live venue when The Luminaire closed its doors forever in March. Vale – you are still very much missed and I fear we shall not see your like again.

© James McGalliard 2011

Inpress: Published on page 54
Drum: Published on page 52

Is This The Way The Future's Meant To Feel?

London Fields # 92
First published Inpress (Issue # 1176), Melbourne on 1 June 2011, and in Drum Media (Issue # 1062), Sydney on 31 May 2011
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here

I’d walked within a hundred feet of Placa de Catalunya only the day before. From a distance I’d seen banners flying and heard the sounds of speeches being made and murmurings of discontent. Not long before sunrise on Saturday morning I walked through the tent village set up in this square at the centre of Barcelona, trying to interpret the signs and placards. Elections are nigh and unemployment, particularly among the youth, is phenomenally high. What I hadn’t realised that an attempt to clear the area by police ahead of the weekend’s final between Manchester United and Barcelona had resulted in a reported 99 casualties requiring hospital treatment.

When travelling, you want to feel that you’re on holiday. Maybe a few days away from the misery of world news events can be a holiday in itself? So once the volcanic ash cloud had cleared, I was happy to blissfully spend a few days without radio, TV or rolling news. Yet this meant that it was only by the way Jarvis Cocker’s introduction to Common People at the end of Pulp’s first official reformation gig as part of Primavera Sound 2011 that I was aware of what had taken place earlier in the day minutes from where I was staying. With music happening on site for around 12 hours of the day, by the time you’ve commuted, eaten, slept and recuperated from the previous day, you’re heading back to the festival grounds again, leaving little time to partake of the host city. No one would think twice if you went to Reading and only saw the bands; but in Barcelona such an act seems almost criminal.

Primavera Sound takes place at the end of each May in Parc de Forum, a huge seaside construction of concrete bridges and piers - massive architecture that dwarves people that is sure to feature in dreams to come. Its location often brings a cooling breeze and even though it’s doubled in capacity since I was last here four years ago, the layout of the site means it’s pretty easy to get around most of the time. While the overall site has also expanded considerably, the area around the main stage can now barely cope with the sheer weight of numbers, so to get a decent vantage point (or at least one where you can see the stage and not just the screens) now means arriving considerably early for the biggest names. Despite all this the thing that marked it apart of UK festivals of a similar size was how aggro-free it was.

With stages programmed by ATP, Pitchfork and Vice, there was a wide variety of acts on show and a series of speakers placed at audience level in the pits on every stage meant that a stage-side view no longer involved sacrificing decent sound. But the biggest innovation this year was one which may change the face of festivals - the smart card and Portal system. This was effectively a way of making the festival cash-free; you transferred money electronically or in cash at paypoints at the festival and this was to be the only way you could buy drinks on site. To encourage you to transfer money in advance, the card was also to be used to pay for reserved spaces at size-restricted stages. The aim of this audacious plan to replace the previous system where you bought raffle tickets (that expired at the end of each day) to be used in lieu of cash at the bars. Any money put on the cards was non-refundable, so that which was unspent went into the organisers’ coffers. Yet many food places took cash only and the collapse of the entire wireless system on the first day meant the system had to be scrapped and bars started accepting cash. Yet despite the teething problems I can see that this will be the way that festivals will progress.

This week hasn’t just been about the bands. I’ll take home memories of the masses of men standing around outside the site running a cottage industry of beer reselling, the city-wide celebrations at Barcelona’s football victory, 15 foot marionettes negotiating the city’s narrow streets, crowds of leather men crowded into a small smoking area outside a gay club, a toy shop which had a train set running through the entire premises, and mostly what a wonderfully liveable city Barcelona appears to be (as long as you don’t partake in peaceful protest). And now when I should be out enjoying this brilliant Sunday afternoon, instead I’m inside writing this, listening to the city’s beating heart through my open window.

© James McGalliard 2011

Inpress: Published on page 52
Drum: Published on page 58

Sorted

London Fields # 40
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 13 June 2007
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here

I remember my first Glastonbury Festival. It wasn’t planned - I only bought a ticket a few days before. We heard the world premiere of the new Stone Roses single One Love on Radio 1 while driving down from London, and then hit the four hour bumper-to-bumper crawl to get onto site. As night fell I was separated from my friends, and then the rain began to fall. I spent that evening sheltering inside my sleeping bag, cocooned within two black bin liners. When I caught up with my mates the next day, it turned out the ‘tent’ that they had for me had no floor and a ‘Cowboys and Indians’ motif on the side. Luckily it didn’t rain again. Those were amongst the most enjoyable days of my life.

Of course, Glasto now sells out in a matter of hours, and it’s a lot bigger than Pulp’s twenty thousand people standing in a field - this year 175 000 people are expected for that weekend at end of this month. Watching the TV coverage of the 2005 event, it seems our former camping pitch has become part of the crowd area - video screens allow a much bigger audience to feel they’re part of the event. You’ve got to admire the Eavis family for keeping it all together, but the real joy of Glasto was the community spirit. And when things get so large, it’s hard to keep that intact.But there are still smaller gems to be found.

The end of April found me at the Dirty Three curated All Tomorrow’s Parties event at Butlins holiday camp in Minehead. It was a surreal experience, holiday ‘chalets’ from a Carry On film, a real mix of people, a proliferation of beards, and best of all, no aggro. The audience ATP attracts is there for the music, not to be a prick.

Then earlier this month I was in Barcelona for Primavera Sound, which was easily the most trouble-free and organised event of this kind I’ve ever attended. Sure there were minor quibbles – the queues to buy vouchers to exchange for drinks, the late nights [bands coming on at 5 in the morning catches up with you by the third day], and the sound spill onto the Rockdelux stage [at one point so loud that it stopped Warren Ellis midsentence]. But although there were no outstanding highlights, it never felt overcrowded (except during The Smashing Pumpkins), and (like ATP) it was great few days with nice people and good music.

This month marks 18 years since I left Melbourne, and three years of writing this column. And following some recent discussions with readers, artists and promoters, I think it’s important that I make this point: I’m a punter! Nearly everything you read about here has been paid for; I’m a long way from the ligger’s list {which is a shame, as all the press bods at Primavera enjoyed free local brew in their own enclosure for all three days}. So I write about what interests me, and what I spend my money on – so it is from a limited perspective.

But perhaps you too get annoyed at exorbitant booking fees for gig tickets, or idiots who talk all the way through gigs, or folks who block your view by taking crappy pics on their phone every 20 seconds. That’s why big gigs are out - no V Festival or Reading, and although I enjoyed it last year, I’ll even be giving the smaller Get Loaded In The Park a miss. However, in July I’ll be heading to a farm in Oxfordshire for the relatively small Truck Festival (which has sold out before the line-up has been announced). And I’ll be descending with 5000 others on Hackney’s Victoria Park one Saturday in August for the inaugural Field Day, which aims to create a village fete atmosphere in the heart of the East End (and it has a great roster of bands over four stages).

Maybe if things keep getting too big, people will revolt and make their own way. Whispers are making even the mainstream press of free parties in the English countryside. Forget nu-rave – could 2007 turn out to be the third summer of love?

© James McGalliard 2007