The 5 British Albums That Should Have Made It in the US This Year
Most of the time I don't mind that the music I like is never on the radio, and usually I understand why. ‘Crystallized’ is an amazing track, but it will never make it into the American Top 40. But there are a few albums every year that surprise me by not making the leap from Britain to major play in the US. They're not the most innovative albums of the year, or even necessarily my favorites (though I did enjoy them), but they should have been more popular in America. Here are my top 5 for 2009:
1.Little Boots-- Hands
The Lady Gaga comparisons-- sparkly outfits, bleach blonde hair, propensity for infectious dance beats-- are easy to make, so I'm shocked that Little Boots didn't find success in America this year. Though synth-heavy ‘Tune into My Heart’ might not have made it stateside, tracks like ‘Remedy’ and ‘Meddle’ are incredibly radio and club friendly. And Little Boots (at least in my opinion) seems much less cloyingly image focused than Lady Gaga and her rubbish tea cup.
2.White Lies-- To Lose My Life
They might be a little doom-and-gloom side with tracks entitled ‘Death’ and ‘Nothing to Give,’ but White Lies sound like The Killers locked themselves in a room with only Joy Division albums for six months and recorded the results, which should be a recipe for rock and college radio success. Combined with their number one debut in January and gig blitz across Europe this year, they're my pick for most likely to succeed among across the pond in 2010 if ‘Farewell to the Fairground’ or ‘To Lose My Life’ breaks through.
3.Florence + the Machine-- Lungs
The brilliantly minimalist punch of ‘Kiss with a Fist’ alone should have been enough to jump-start Florence Welch's US career, but despite her stratospheric rise to fame in England she's still under the radar here. Excuse the obvious comparison, but she seems like a potential heir to the Amy Winehouse English songstress title stateside. The impossibly catchy hook of ‘Drumming Song’ seems like her best chance for American success in the coming year.
4.Arctic Monkeys-- Humbug
I debated this one because Arctic Monkeys haven't failed to make it in America so much as been willfully ignored by radio here. Despite their astronomical buzz and far greater name recognition than any of the other bands on this list, I've yet to hear an Arctics song outside the most obscure depths of college radio and the lonely indie show that plays very early on Saturday mornings on my local Baltimore station. Humbug is by far the band's least British album, altered by Josh Homme's desert rock production and Turner's least slang-ridden lyrics, so it might be their best chance to break the American market. But catchy ‘Crying Lighting’ and ‘Cornerstone,’ one of the best songs in the Arctics catalogue, have failed to crack the Top 40 like ‘Brianstorm’ and ‘Fluorescent Adolescent’ before them.
5.The Maccabees-- Wall of Arms
This one might just be wishful thinking on my part, but I loved Wall of Arms and thought it had some pop gems that could have done well on the radio in a place that Jason Mraz usually fills (I meant that as a compliment.) ‘Kiss and Resolve’ and ‘Love You Better’ have sparkling choruses that make them radio ready, though I have my doubts that they can succeed if ‘Toothpaste Kisses’ couldn't.
Runners Up:
Pete Doherty-- Grace/Wastelands
This one is hugely unlikely, but I just had to include it because it was one of my favorite albums of the year. It's also Doherty's most radio-friendly production by far, especially considering American's stricter censorship laws. But that doesn't mean it's objectively radio-ready. ‘Arcady’ might be an okay single....a girl can dream, right?
Franz Ferdinand-- Tonight
A great redeeming album for Franz after the somewhat lackluster YCHISMB, but they already got some radio play for ‘Take Me Out’ a few years ago, so I couldn't really include them. That said, I think ‘Ulysses’ and ‘Twilight Omens’ should have had legs here.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Games for Days
Julian Plenti
First Unitarian Church, Philadelphia, 27 November
First Unitarian Church, arguably Philadelphia's most unusual venue, was the last stop on the American leg of the Julian Plenti tour. A small but enthusiastic crowd crammed into the tiny basement gig space for a set that included both the softly introspective and angularly uptempo tracks from debut album Julian Plenti Is...Skyscraper. The music, a product of Interpol frontman Paul Banks' side solo gig, diverges from Interpol enough to make it worth a separate listen, while maintaining enough familiar hints of the other band to keep fans happy.
With only one album to draw from, Banks and his band played most of the debut, beginning with some gentler tracks and working up to more dramatic numbers like Fun That We Have . Standouts included soft, dark On the Esplanade and Only If You Run and Interpol-channeling Girl on the Sporting News, along with an unexpected snippet of Let It Snow in honor of the beginning of America's post-Thanksgiving Christmas season. The encore included a well-executed cover of America's A Horse With No Name and closed with lead single Games for Days, one of the most dynamic tracks of the night.
First Unitarian is one of my favorite venues because it provides an opportunity to see great bands in a remarkably intimate space. Banks and his band are well-suited to smaller gigs; the Julian Plenti sound isn't as cavernous and cold as Interpol and Banks' voice changes and modulates slightly, becoming less monotone, to suit the musical differences. Though it's technically a solo project, the band is an integral part of the performance, particularly the standout guitarist. Everyone seemed to be having a great time on stage and in the audience; another facet of First Uni is that it tends to draw an enthusiastic, musically well-informed crowd. Banks seemed pleased and surprised by the warm welcome to his new music; this week they take their solid show off for a short tour of Europe that's well worth attending.
First Unitarian Church, Philadelphia, 27 November
First Unitarian Church, arguably Philadelphia's most unusual venue, was the last stop on the American leg of the Julian Plenti tour. A small but enthusiastic crowd crammed into the tiny basement gig space for a set that included both the softly introspective and angularly uptempo tracks from debut album Julian Plenti Is...Skyscraper. The music, a product of Interpol frontman Paul Banks' side solo gig, diverges from Interpol enough to make it worth a separate listen, while maintaining enough familiar hints of the other band to keep fans happy.
With only one album to draw from, Banks and his band played most of the debut, beginning with some gentler tracks and working up to more dramatic numbers like Fun That We Have . Standouts included soft, dark On the Esplanade and Only If You Run and Interpol-channeling Girl on the Sporting News, along with an unexpected snippet of Let It Snow in honor of the beginning of America's post-Thanksgiving Christmas season. The encore included a well-executed cover of America's A Horse With No Name and closed with lead single Games for Days, one of the most dynamic tracks of the night.
First Unitarian is one of my favorite venues because it provides an opportunity to see great bands in a remarkably intimate space. Banks and his band are well-suited to smaller gigs; the Julian Plenti sound isn't as cavernous and cold as Interpol and Banks' voice changes and modulates slightly, becoming less monotone, to suit the musical differences. Though it's technically a solo project, the band is an integral part of the performance, particularly the standout guitarist. Everyone seemed to be having a great time on stage and in the audience; another facet of First Uni is that it tends to draw an enthusiastic, musically well-informed crowd. Banks seemed pleased and surprised by the warm welcome to his new music; this week they take their solid show off for a short tour of Europe that's well worth attending.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Tonight, in Jungleland
Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band
First Mariner Arena, Baltimore, 20 Nov
Set list:
Wrecking Ball
Prove It All Night
Hungry Heart
Working on a Dream
--Born to Run--
Thunder Road
Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out
Night
Backstreets
Born to Run
She's the One
Meeting Across the River
Jungleland
Waitin' on a Sunny Day
Spirit in the Night
Green Onions
Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town
E Street Shuffle
For You
Radio Nowhere
My Love Will Not Let You Down
Long Walk Home
The Rising
Badlands
Ramrod
Hard Times
Land of Hope and Dreams
American Land
Dancing in the Dark
Rosalita
Higher and Higher
Glory Days
More to come.
First Mariner Arena, Baltimore, 20 Nov
Set list:
Wrecking Ball
Prove It All Night
Hungry Heart
Working on a Dream
--Born to Run--
Thunder Road
Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out
Night
Backstreets
Born to Run
She's the One
Meeting Across the River
Jungleland
Waitin' on a Sunny Day
Spirit in the Night
Green Onions
Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town
E Street Shuffle
For You
Radio Nowhere
My Love Will Not Let You Down
Long Walk Home
The Rising
Badlands
Ramrod
Hard Times
Land of Hope and Dreams
American Land
Dancing in the Dark
Rosalita
Higher and Higher
Glory Days
More to come.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Cornerstone
Arctic Monkeys
30 September, Electric Factory
I was most excited for my second concert encounter with Arctic Monkeys because it wasn’t going to be outside in a field of mud. Having seen them pre-Humbug this summer at soggy All Points West festival in New York, I looked forward to a more informed experience of tracks from the new album and a longer set that could include more classics. While the first wish was granted, the lack of material from older albums was an obvious disappointment for American fans who get to see the band so rarely. The band made choices to accommodate the dramatically new sound of Humbug, and while the set was cohesive and polished, the frenetic energy that once defined the Arctic Monkeys’ sound felt diminished.
The show kicked off with ‘Dance Little Liar,’ an unusually slow-burning opener that set the tone for the night. The clash between old material and new became apparent in follow-up ‘Brianstorm,’ which psyched the crowd up and injected more energy into the set. ‘Brianstorm’ segued neatly into lead single ‘Crying Lightning,’ bolstered by a militaristic drum roll during the bridge. The showcase of new material continued with the brilliant cover of Nick Cave’s ‘Red Right Hand’ that has been justifiably raved about since its release. ‘Red Right Hand’ is, tonally, what all of Humbug should be. Its creeping vocals and staccato drums echo standout tracks from the album like ‘My Propeller’ and outshine less spectacular moments like ‘Secret Door.’ The track was paired perfectly with ‘Propeller,’ which got a dramatic crowd reaction for its bombastic start before boiling up slowly again with twisting, Bond-theme guitars.
A change in tone occurred with ‘This House Is a Circus,’ which galloped into ‘Still Take You Home’ and ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor.’ Crowd response to classic tracks was massive, particularly the call and response chorus of ‘Dancefloor’ that had the room shouting back “You’re dynamite!”
The worst moment of the night was cacophonous b-side ‘Sketchead,’ a track that has neither the nuanced structure of Humbug nor the bright energy of Whatever People Say I Am... I thought a live version might change my feelings, but my dislike lingered as the band thrashed through a graceless arrangement. Brilliantly structured ‘Cornerstone’ and bouncy ‘Fluorescent Adolescent’ redeemed the set as great closers. ‘Cornerstone’ in particular proved itself as one of the best tracks from the new album; it retains the band’s clever, personal lyrical structure while introducing a subtler musical approach.
A very brief encore saw Turner looking slightly muddled, particularly as he appeared on stage with the greeting, “Philly. Philly. Filet mignon.” ‘505’ closed the set rather softly, and the band departed to mixed chatter as the crowd filtered out.
The influence of Josh Homme’s production is apparent not only on Humbug, but on how the band tours. The interest in musical showmanship during their shows has changed; focus on Turner’s hyper literate lyrics is diminishing, and the band seems to have honed their skills to accommodate more complicated instrumentals. Turner’s vocals have also become more nuanced; the subtle emotion of ‘Cornerstone’ and seductive drawl of ‘My Propeller’ are departures from old tracks like ‘Dancing Shoes.’ That said, they haven’t quite made the transition from Sheffield punks to desert prowling rockers. Their best moments are still found in the combination of Turner’s wordy verses and simple, catchy hooks. Tracks like ‘Secret Door’ lack the punch of ‘Dancefloor,’ though the winding guitar of Humbug can also be compelling. The best marriage of the two appears in tracks like ‘Lightning’ and stomping ‘Dangerous Animals,’ with chanting chorus that could develop into a live favorite if Turner and the band ever remedy the strange lag between music and vocals that I experienced during both APW and this gig.
While the band is relatively motionless, concentrating on solid playing rather than dramatic showmanship, Alex Turner exudes a rockstar confidence that makes him magnetically watchable. That said, there’s slightly too much arrogance in his style, particularly as the band introduces the new sound of Humbug. He barely spoke to the crowd or even looked up from behind his affected, grunge-rock long hair; the most interaction occurred when he drowned out the crowd’s chants for ‘Mardy Bum’ (which, criminally, wasn’t part of the set) with guitar feedback.
Overall, the show represented a turning point for the band as they move away from their teenage punk roots. While their musicianship and the nuance of the songs themselves has increased, the energy that made the Monkeys so compelling is fading. Their willful departure from their old sound is admirable as a musical evolution, yet there is also a sense that they’re spitting in the faces of fans. The pair next to me lamented the absence of clever ‘When the Sun Goes Down,’ but Turner and Co. seemed to feel that they can’t return to the sound that made them famous because it undermines the levity of their new work. Good bands evolve, but great bands do so while remembering their roots.
30 September, Electric Factory
I was most excited for my second concert encounter with Arctic Monkeys because it wasn’t going to be outside in a field of mud. Having seen them pre-Humbug this summer at soggy All Points West festival in New York, I looked forward to a more informed experience of tracks from the new album and a longer set that could include more classics. While the first wish was granted, the lack of material from older albums was an obvious disappointment for American fans who get to see the band so rarely. The band made choices to accommodate the dramatically new sound of Humbug, and while the set was cohesive and polished, the frenetic energy that once defined the Arctic Monkeys’ sound felt diminished.
The show kicked off with ‘Dance Little Liar,’ an unusually slow-burning opener that set the tone for the night. The clash between old material and new became apparent in follow-up ‘Brianstorm,’ which psyched the crowd up and injected more energy into the set. ‘Brianstorm’ segued neatly into lead single ‘Crying Lightning,’ bolstered by a militaristic drum roll during the bridge. The showcase of new material continued with the brilliant cover of Nick Cave’s ‘Red Right Hand’ that has been justifiably raved about since its release. ‘Red Right Hand’ is, tonally, what all of Humbug should be. Its creeping vocals and staccato drums echo standout tracks from the album like ‘My Propeller’ and outshine less spectacular moments like ‘Secret Door.’ The track was paired perfectly with ‘Propeller,’ which got a dramatic crowd reaction for its bombastic start before boiling up slowly again with twisting, Bond-theme guitars.
A change in tone occurred with ‘This House Is a Circus,’ which galloped into ‘Still Take You Home’ and ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor.’ Crowd response to classic tracks was massive, particularly the call and response chorus of ‘Dancefloor’ that had the room shouting back “You’re dynamite!”
The worst moment of the night was cacophonous b-side ‘Sketchead,’ a track that has neither the nuanced structure of Humbug nor the bright energy of Whatever People Say I Am... I thought a live version might change my feelings, but my dislike lingered as the band thrashed through a graceless arrangement. Brilliantly structured ‘Cornerstone’ and bouncy ‘Fluorescent Adolescent’ redeemed the set as great closers. ‘Cornerstone’ in particular proved itself as one of the best tracks from the new album; it retains the band’s clever, personal lyrical structure while introducing a subtler musical approach.
A very brief encore saw Turner looking slightly muddled, particularly as he appeared on stage with the greeting, “Philly. Philly. Filet mignon.” ‘505’ closed the set rather softly, and the band departed to mixed chatter as the crowd filtered out.
The influence of Josh Homme’s production is apparent not only on Humbug, but on how the band tours. The interest in musical showmanship during their shows has changed; focus on Turner’s hyper literate lyrics is diminishing, and the band seems to have honed their skills to accommodate more complicated instrumentals. Turner’s vocals have also become more nuanced; the subtle emotion of ‘Cornerstone’ and seductive drawl of ‘My Propeller’ are departures from old tracks like ‘Dancing Shoes.’ That said, they haven’t quite made the transition from Sheffield punks to desert prowling rockers. Their best moments are still found in the combination of Turner’s wordy verses and simple, catchy hooks. Tracks like ‘Secret Door’ lack the punch of ‘Dancefloor,’ though the winding guitar of Humbug can also be compelling. The best marriage of the two appears in tracks like ‘Lightning’ and stomping ‘Dangerous Animals,’ with chanting chorus that could develop into a live favorite if Turner and the band ever remedy the strange lag between music and vocals that I experienced during both APW and this gig.
While the band is relatively motionless, concentrating on solid playing rather than dramatic showmanship, Alex Turner exudes a rockstar confidence that makes him magnetically watchable. That said, there’s slightly too much arrogance in his style, particularly as the band introduces the new sound of Humbug. He barely spoke to the crowd or even looked up from behind his affected, grunge-rock long hair; the most interaction occurred when he drowned out the crowd’s chants for ‘Mardy Bum’ (which, criminally, wasn’t part of the set) with guitar feedback.
Overall, the show represented a turning point for the band as they move away from their teenage punk roots. While their musicianship and the nuance of the songs themselves has increased, the energy that made the Monkeys so compelling is fading. Their willful departure from their old sound is admirable as a musical evolution, yet there is also a sense that they’re spitting in the faces of fans. The pair next to me lamented the absence of clever ‘When the Sun Goes Down,’ but Turner and Co. seemed to feel that they can’t return to the sound that made them famous because it undermines the levity of their new work. Good bands evolve, but great bands do so while remembering their roots.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Four Winds
The Killers
Merriweather Post Pavilion, Columbia, MD
August 31
August 31’s show at Merriweather Post Pavilion marked my third excellent encounter with The Killers; the only problem that plagues them is abysmal support. In London they were prefaced by talent-bereft Louis XIV, while this show paired them with Wolfmother, who shared nothing stylistically with their headliner. Their sonic onslaught and self-indulgent solos did little to engage the crowd. Andrew Stockdale asked if anyone had been to Wolfmother’s previous Merriweather show; met with silence he remarked, ‘Well, we have nothing in common.’ Truer words...
After a short interlude The Killers appeared, Brandon Flowers bounding onstage in feathered epaulettes. Opener ‘Joyride’ could have switched with Day & Age standout ‘Spaceman,’ which came later in the set. Despite its strange subject matter, ‘Spaceman’ is one of the most impressive songs in the band’s live repertoire, surging forward and pulling the crowd along in its grandiose wake. Follow ups like ‘Somebody Told Me’ paled in comparison, although crowd response to tracks from Hot Fuss was consistently massive.
The best surprise of the night was rarely-played ‘Believe Me, Natalie,’ a bright burst of synth that thrilled loyal fans like me. Though a technical keyboard issue had Flowers scowling, the song itself was dead-on, a perfect reminder of the slick, chilly sound that made the band famous.
Tracks from Sam’s Town were some of the biggest of the night, including the lovely and poignant ‘Read My Mind,’ ‘Bling’ with an added singalong verse, and ‘Bones,’ which saw Flowers at his most hand-shakingly enthusiastic. Joy Division cover ‘Shadowplay’ was solid, although I would have loved to hear their stunning cover of Conor Oberst’s ‘Four Winds’ (if you haven’t heard it yet, get it now). Flowers also threw in a brief interlude of ‘Love Me Tender.’ Set closer ‘All These Things That I’ve Done’ ended in a frenzied singalong under a rain of confetti, with Flowers conducting the crowd and brandishing his mic into thousands of singing voices.
An abbreviated encore of excellently dark ‘Jenny Was a Friend of Mine’ (with switched lyrics ‘she kicked and screamed while I held her throat’) and ‘When You Were Young’ kept up the energy at the end of the show, but my absolute favorite song of the night was ‘A Dustland Fairytale.’ Practically made for arena shows, the slow build from piano and vocals to a grandiose finale was stirring. The drama of the last verse had a girl behind me in the crowd crying, something I’ve never seen at a gig before.
The Killers put on a consistently energetic and diverse live show, and Flowers seems truly passionate, practically bursting with nervous energy as he sprints across the stage. The best thing about repeat viewings of their gigs is seeing how he’s changed. Once nervously stiff and tethered to his keyboard, Flowers now spends the show in motion, leaping onto speakers, twirling the mic stand, and gesturing wildly. At Merriweather he also seemed to be having a great time, cracking a smile in the midst of songs, shoving guitarist Dave Keuning forward playfully during a solo, and reaching out to grab the hands of a few lucky fans, something I would never have expected on the Hot Fuss tour. Perhaps his shining new stage presence reflects the expansion of The Killers’ music from their dark Vegas roots and the dusty desert to the brighter, more diverse sound of this Day & Age.
Island in the Sun
Virgin Mobile Freefest
Merriweather Post Pavilion, Columbia, MD
August 30
I packed my rainboots for Virgin Mobile Freefest but was surprised by beautiful sun, while the grounds of Merriweather Post Pavilion (made famous by Animal Collective) provided shady space for listening to the diverse acts. The Pavilion Stage lineup focused on the mainstream, while the West Stage was a mix of indie and...Public Enemy. Still trying to figure that out.
The first band I caught was Taking Back Sunday, who were the day’s biggest disappointment. Plagued by fuzzy sound that was further marred by sludgy dance tent echo, their songs seemed largely the same, a mix of unclear guitars and middling vocals. Even the afternoon sun was against them; the pavilion’s shadow was so deep that the band was completely obscured for lawn viewers, eliminating the chance for a redeeming stage presence.
Next up were Jet, who topped Taking Back Sunday but didn’t thrill. Their sound quality was far better, but it couldn’t negate the fact that the majority of their songs sounded similar. Crowd pleasers like ‘Are You Gonna Be My Girl’ and ‘Cold Hard Bitch’ delivered, but new tracks fell flat.
Jet were followed by The Bravery. Their new songs sounded similar to the old, so favorites like ‘An Honest Mistake’ carried the set. The Bravery are technically solid but I found that they lacked a crucial energy live. Moments like the sharp opening bass line of ‘Believe’ drew me in, but others, like a loping version of “Time Won’t Let Me Go,’ didn’t hold my attention. One interesting moment-- Sam Endicott introduced new track ‘Jack o’ Lantern Man’ as ‘a song about a guy I fucking hate.’ Still curious who that is.
Awaiting Weezer, the crowd was treated to the spectacle of two parachutists jumping from a helicopter onto the roof of the pavilion, where they shared champagne with unexpected guest Richard Branson. The parachutists and Weezer were the biggest surprises of the night; Weezer nailed their set with upbeat energy and technical prowess. Opening with a snippet of ‘War Pigs,’ they moved to ‘Hash Pipe’ and ‘Undone (The Sweater Song),’ perfect tracks to engage the expanding crowd. New single ‘(If You’re Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To’ was enjoyably uptempo and followed by classics like ‘Buddy Holly’ and ‘Say It Ain’t So.’
Memories of middle school prompted me to stay for Blink-182 instead of catching Girl Talk (a terrible mistake). My notes read, in full, ‘Damn annoying.’ Blink’s musical skill was mediocre at best and Tom DeLonge reveled in childish stage banter that revolved around how many obscenities he could fit into an intro. (The songs were not as ‘fucking awesome’ as he thought, and they certainly didn’t ‘blow [my] dick off.’) After enduring a few tracks including ‘Rock Show,’ I cut my losses and left for Franz Ferdinand.
The criminally underpopulated West Stage hosted Franz’s set, which could be faulted only for excessive smoke machine use, obscuring louchely energetic frontman Alex Kapranos and guitarist Nick McCarthy as sharp opener ‘This Fire’ got the crowd moving. Standouts included the terrific ‘No You Girls,’ a stomp through ‘Take Me Out,’ and ‘Outsiders,’ which saw the entire band attacking the drum kit for an extended outro. ‘Turn It On’ and ‘Tell Her Tonight’ lagged, but the encore solidified the band’s place as my favorite of the day. Energetic ‘Michael’ and ‘Darts of Pleasure’ preceded a stunning version of ‘Lucid Dreams.’ While the sprawling keyboard solo that concluded the track might have challenged casual listeners, it was a joy for fans. Kapranos and McCarthy created extended waves of sound on multiple keyboards, layering beats carefully for nearly fifteen minutes before letting the track fade to drums as waves of residual smoke roiled across the stage.
Merriweather Post Pavilion, Columbia, MD
August 30
I packed my rainboots for Virgin Mobile Freefest but was surprised by beautiful sun, while the grounds of Merriweather Post Pavilion (made famous by Animal Collective) provided shady space for listening to the diverse acts. The Pavilion Stage lineup focused on the mainstream, while the West Stage was a mix of indie and...Public Enemy. Still trying to figure that out.
The first band I caught was Taking Back Sunday, who were the day’s biggest disappointment. Plagued by fuzzy sound that was further marred by sludgy dance tent echo, their songs seemed largely the same, a mix of unclear guitars and middling vocals. Even the afternoon sun was against them; the pavilion’s shadow was so deep that the band was completely obscured for lawn viewers, eliminating the chance for a redeeming stage presence.
Next up were Jet, who topped Taking Back Sunday but didn’t thrill. Their sound quality was far better, but it couldn’t negate the fact that the majority of their songs sounded similar. Crowd pleasers like ‘Are You Gonna Be My Girl’ and ‘Cold Hard Bitch’ delivered, but new tracks fell flat.
Jet were followed by The Bravery. Their new songs sounded similar to the old, so favorites like ‘An Honest Mistake’ carried the set. The Bravery are technically solid but I found that they lacked a crucial energy live. Moments like the sharp opening bass line of ‘Believe’ drew me in, but others, like a loping version of “Time Won’t Let Me Go,’ didn’t hold my attention. One interesting moment-- Sam Endicott introduced new track ‘Jack o’ Lantern Man’ as ‘a song about a guy I fucking hate.’ Still curious who that is.
Awaiting Weezer, the crowd was treated to the spectacle of two parachutists jumping from a helicopter onto the roof of the pavilion, where they shared champagne with unexpected guest Richard Branson. The parachutists and Weezer were the biggest surprises of the night; Weezer nailed their set with upbeat energy and technical prowess. Opening with a snippet of ‘War Pigs,’ they moved to ‘Hash Pipe’ and ‘Undone (The Sweater Song),’ perfect tracks to engage the expanding crowd. New single ‘(If You’re Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To’ was enjoyably uptempo and followed by classics like ‘Buddy Holly’ and ‘Say It Ain’t So.’
Memories of middle school prompted me to stay for Blink-182 instead of catching Girl Talk (a terrible mistake). My notes read, in full, ‘Damn annoying.’ Blink’s musical skill was mediocre at best and Tom DeLonge reveled in childish stage banter that revolved around how many obscenities he could fit into an intro. (The songs were not as ‘fucking awesome’ as he thought, and they certainly didn’t ‘blow [my] dick off.’) After enduring a few tracks including ‘Rock Show,’ I cut my losses and left for Franz Ferdinand.
The criminally underpopulated West Stage hosted Franz’s set, which could be faulted only for excessive smoke machine use, obscuring louchely energetic frontman Alex Kapranos and guitarist Nick McCarthy as sharp opener ‘This Fire’ got the crowd moving. Standouts included the terrific ‘No You Girls,’ a stomp through ‘Take Me Out,’ and ‘Outsiders,’ which saw the entire band attacking the drum kit for an extended outro. ‘Turn It On’ and ‘Tell Her Tonight’ lagged, but the encore solidified the band’s place as my favorite of the day. Energetic ‘Michael’ and ‘Darts of Pleasure’ preceded a stunning version of ‘Lucid Dreams.’ While the sprawling keyboard solo that concluded the track might have challenged casual listeners, it was a joy for fans. Kapranos and McCarthy created extended waves of sound on multiple keyboards, layering beats carefully for nearly fifteen minutes before letting the track fade to drums as waves of residual smoke roiled across the stage.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Bang Bang Rock and Roll
Art Brut sagely advises, “Stop buying your albums from the supermarket,” and people have taken heed. In light of constantly dwindling album sales, I like reading the somewhat quaintly outdated US Neilson Soundscan chart. The thing about the chart that interests me most is what’s not selling - it reflects little about the music (predominantly rock and indie) that most people I know enjoy .
In fairness, my friends and I spend a lot of time on independent music websites; we’re not exactly the Lady Gaga fan club. But I assumed that Lady Gaga and her Top 40 contemporaries would dominate sales, so the country and rap albums that populate the top 20 surprise me, as does the lack of rock besides Nickelback and their abysmal sound-alikes. The sole entry that could even remotely (at this point, incredibly remotely) be termed indie in last week’s chart was Kings of Leon. Where is the music that my friends listen to? Hell, where is the music that my parents listen to?
Country is easy to understand; its audience skews older, making their conversion to digital music slower. And country fans are fiercely loyal to their favourite artists; purchasing an album is a sure way to support Carrie Underwood or George Strait (whose albums are certified 68x platinum - talk about loyalty).
Rap is harder to explain. Its fans are young, and considering the number of new rappers charting, it’s safe to say they don’t have much “brand loyalty”. My best guess is that music blogs just aren’t hosting the latest rap leak, so listeners access their music the old fashioned (or just legal) way. In an unscientific test, I searched high-charting rapper Fabolous and indie newcomers The XX on blog aggregator elbo.ws. The results? 236 hits for Fabolous, and 1256 for The XX, who released their debut in America just last week. Fans might want to get their music online, but the option just isn’t there to the same extent.
The obvious opposing question is: Why aren’t rock fans buying albums? I polled some friends and the feedback was universal: none of them buy CDs because the blog culture that ignores rap is a bounty of indie and rock. One said she hadn’t bought a physical album in “about five years” because access to music online is instant and expansive. These genres also aren’t charting because many albums are impossible to find for fans who are loyal enough to buy. A friend in northern California told me she’d been conducting a futile search for the new Maccabees CD. Online sales solve some of these problems, but I still find delayed release dates for international artists a frustrating issue. What about older fans? Some have gone really old school; I recently saw a friend’s father firing up a turntable for vintage rock records instead of CDs or an iPod. Others, like my parents, have become downloaders by proxy, snagging new music that I recommend.
Final question: why do more diverse albums chart in the UK? As I write, Arctic Monkey’s 'Humbug' is on track for number one. Part of the difference is attributable to the music culture; mainstream media focuses more on rock and indie, getting bands like Muse, White Lies, and Kings of Leon out from under the radar quickly and attracting fans who aren’t online specifically to sample new music. Another difference lies in record stores. Independents like Rough Trade stock albums that are hard to get in America, and even HMV has a selection that puts most US shops to shame. Fans like my Maccabees-seeking friend are more likely to support their favourite bands through album sales if albums are available.
So how can the American chart change? Honestly, I’m not sure. Better distribution, online and in stores, seems to be step one, but indie bands also have to win back ravenous music lovers who download for maximum exposure to new music. The silver lining? Rampant downloading creates hordes of new fans who come out to gigs. In fact, I’d love to see a gig chart. Maybe Nickelback wouldn’t be on it.
In fairness, my friends and I spend a lot of time on independent music websites; we’re not exactly the Lady Gaga fan club. But I assumed that Lady Gaga and her Top 40 contemporaries would dominate sales, so the country and rap albums that populate the top 20 surprise me, as does the lack of rock besides Nickelback and their abysmal sound-alikes. The sole entry that could even remotely (at this point, incredibly remotely) be termed indie in last week’s chart was Kings of Leon. Where is the music that my friends listen to? Hell, where is the music that my parents listen to?
Country is easy to understand; its audience skews older, making their conversion to digital music slower. And country fans are fiercely loyal to their favourite artists; purchasing an album is a sure way to support Carrie Underwood or George Strait (whose albums are certified 68x platinum - talk about loyalty).
Rap is harder to explain. Its fans are young, and considering the number of new rappers charting, it’s safe to say they don’t have much “brand loyalty”. My best guess is that music blogs just aren’t hosting the latest rap leak, so listeners access their music the old fashioned (or just legal) way. In an unscientific test, I searched high-charting rapper Fabolous and indie newcomers The XX on blog aggregator elbo.ws. The results? 236 hits for Fabolous, and 1256 for The XX, who released their debut in America just last week. Fans might want to get their music online, but the option just isn’t there to the same extent.
The obvious opposing question is: Why aren’t rock fans buying albums? I polled some friends and the feedback was universal: none of them buy CDs because the blog culture that ignores rap is a bounty of indie and rock. One said she hadn’t bought a physical album in “about five years” because access to music online is instant and expansive. These genres also aren’t charting because many albums are impossible to find for fans who are loyal enough to buy. A friend in northern California told me she’d been conducting a futile search for the new Maccabees CD. Online sales solve some of these problems, but I still find delayed release dates for international artists a frustrating issue. What about older fans? Some have gone really old school; I recently saw a friend’s father firing up a turntable for vintage rock records instead of CDs or an iPod. Others, like my parents, have become downloaders by proxy, snagging new music that I recommend.
Final question: why do more diverse albums chart in the UK? As I write, Arctic Monkey’s 'Humbug' is on track for number one. Part of the difference is attributable to the music culture; mainstream media focuses more on rock and indie, getting bands like Muse, White Lies, and Kings of Leon out from under the radar quickly and attracting fans who aren’t online specifically to sample new music. Another difference lies in record stores. Independents like Rough Trade stock albums that are hard to get in America, and even HMV has a selection that puts most US shops to shame. Fans like my Maccabees-seeking friend are more likely to support their favourite bands through album sales if albums are available.
So how can the American chart change? Honestly, I’m not sure. Better distribution, online and in stores, seems to be step one, but indie bands also have to win back ravenous music lovers who download for maximum exposure to new music. The silver lining? Rampant downloading creates hordes of new fans who come out to gigs. In fact, I’d love to see a gig chart. Maybe Nickelback wouldn’t be on it.
Monday, August 3, 2009
When your feet get wet at a Coldplay show/What could be worse?
All Points West
Aug 1-2, Liberty State Park, NJ
I thought I could escape the murky conditions that plague U.K. festivals by attending All Points West, but rain and mud made a transatlantic trip, turning the weekend into a damp experience. Skipping stormy Friday, I trekked from Manhattan to New Jersey and kicked off Saturday with Arctic Monkeys. Against the backdrop of the Statue of Liberty, Turner and Co. started their set with ‘Pretty Visitors,’ which has a guitar-crunching chorus tailor-made for live performances. They sprinted through ‘Brianstorm,’ then introduced ‘Potion Approaching,’ another new addition that sadly lacked ‘Visitors’ punch. ‘Fluorescent Adolescent’ got the crowd going and was followed by ‘Cornerstone,’ possibly my favorite track from Humbug. Other standouts were slinky ‘My Propeller’ and perennial favorite ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor.’ Strangely, the song tempo sometimes lagged, so the sense of witty urgency that characterizes the Monkeys didn’t always translate.
A wander across the park brought me to Chairlift, closing with ‘Bruises,’ the single made famous on U.S. iPod ads. The rest of their set was unremarkable, stronger for its instrumentals than for Caroline Polacheck’s occasionally shrill vocals. Tokyo Police Club woke the post-Chairlift crowd with energetic performance, which my friends and I voted a pleasant surprise.
Tool was Saturday’s headliner, but I opted for Crystal Castles along with the rest of the attendees not wearing Tool t-shirts (apparently a prerequisite for their gigs). Alice Glass appeared waving a spotlight above her head to compliment the stark lights that synced with their chilly electro. Highlights included ‘Crimewave,’ cleverly echoed in stuttering samples throughout the set, and crowd favorite ‘Courtship Dating.’ Glass, despite her frenetic, equipment-climbing energy, was entirely drowned out by Ethan Kath’s compelling layers of fuzzy sound and shrill keyboard. In spite of this, the crowd was one of the most hyped of the weekend and the set made a great end to day one.
Sunday morning downpours churned the ground into an inexplicably foul-smelling sea of mud that worsened as the day went on. My long-suffering friends and I caught the end of Silversun Pickups, who were unexpectedly high-energy given their laid back album vibe. Underwhelmed, I left after ‘Lazy Eye’ and sloshed off to We Are Scientists, whose older tracks got the most crowd response. ‘Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt’ was by far the favorite, although I was disappointed that a late start abbreviated them to six tracks.
Mud rising steadily, I trekked to the main stage. With the rain over, the crowd sprawled on ponchos and raincoats to see Elbow, Echo and the Bunnymen, and headliner Coldplay. I arrived to find Guy Garvey introducing ‘Grounds for Divorce,’ a perfect song for large festival crowds. ‘Divorce’ combined with sweeping, violin-tinged closer ‘On a Day Like This’ put Elbow in competition for the technically strongest band of the weekend.
Brooding Echo and the Bunnymen seemed subdued in comparison. Opener ‘Lips Like Sugar’ was my favorite track, although the pair in front of me enthusiastically doing yoga (yes, seriously, not a euphemism, actually doing yoga) preferred a sparkling version of ‘Bring on the Dancing Horses.’ They closed with what Ian McCulloch called a ‘holy trinity’ including ‘The Killing Moon’ and wonderfully dark ‘The Cutter.’
The sun set before Coldplay, who opened with booming ‘Violet Hill,’ followed by the angular lasers of ‘Clocks’ against Manhattan’s skyline. Chris Martin proclaimed APW “the strangest smelling festival,” altering the lyrics of ‘Fix You’ to “When your feet get wet at a Coldplay show/ What could be worse?” They included a gorgeous take on ‘Lovers in Japan’ and a cluster of acoustic songs played in the crowd, including a decent but unremarkable cover of ‘Billie Jean’ ‘The Scientist’ was an ideal encore, with the crowd singing along as the festival concluded.
I skipped the middle of Coldplay to see MGMT. Ankles submerged in disconcertingly warm mud and surrounded by bandanas and paisley, I caught the second half of ‘Of Moons, Birds, and Monsters’ splendidly psychedelic guitars, the terrific crescendos of ‘Weekend Wars,’ and new track ‘It’s Working.’ ‘Kids’ was sharp and catchy, and ‘Electric Feel’ was enjoyable, although it suffered from nasal vocals. I rejoined my friends and we made our way out through the mix of bog and murky, oceanic puddles. As we crossed the central swamp my sandal was ripped apart by the sticky mud and became my final apparel casualty. I headed back to Manhattan soggy and shoeless but satisfied.
Aug 1-2, Liberty State Park, NJ
I thought I could escape the murky conditions that plague U.K. festivals by attending All Points West, but rain and mud made a transatlantic trip, turning the weekend into a damp experience. Skipping stormy Friday, I trekked from Manhattan to New Jersey and kicked off Saturday with Arctic Monkeys. Against the backdrop of the Statue of Liberty, Turner and Co. started their set with ‘Pretty Visitors,’ which has a guitar-crunching chorus tailor-made for live performances. They sprinted through ‘Brianstorm,’ then introduced ‘Potion Approaching,’ another new addition that sadly lacked ‘Visitors’ punch. ‘Fluorescent Adolescent’ got the crowd going and was followed by ‘Cornerstone,’ possibly my favorite track from Humbug. Other standouts were slinky ‘My Propeller’ and perennial favorite ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor.’ Strangely, the song tempo sometimes lagged, so the sense of witty urgency that characterizes the Monkeys didn’t always translate.
A wander across the park brought me to Chairlift, closing with ‘Bruises,’ the single made famous on U.S. iPod ads. The rest of their set was unremarkable, stronger for its instrumentals than for Caroline Polacheck’s occasionally shrill vocals. Tokyo Police Club woke the post-Chairlift crowd with energetic performance, which my friends and I voted a pleasant surprise.
Tool was Saturday’s headliner, but I opted for Crystal Castles along with the rest of the attendees not wearing Tool t-shirts (apparently a prerequisite for their gigs). Alice Glass appeared waving a spotlight above her head to compliment the stark lights that synced with their chilly electro. Highlights included ‘Crimewave,’ cleverly echoed in stuttering samples throughout the set, and crowd favorite ‘Courtship Dating.’ Glass, despite her frenetic, equipment-climbing energy, was entirely drowned out by Ethan Kath’s compelling layers of fuzzy sound and shrill keyboard. In spite of this, the crowd was one of the most hyped of the weekend and the set made a great end to day one.
Sunday morning downpours churned the ground into an inexplicably foul-smelling sea of mud that worsened as the day went on. My long-suffering friends and I caught the end of Silversun Pickups, who were unexpectedly high-energy given their laid back album vibe. Underwhelmed, I left after ‘Lazy Eye’ and sloshed off to We Are Scientists, whose older tracks got the most crowd response. ‘Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt’ was by far the favorite, although I was disappointed that a late start abbreviated them to six tracks.
Mud rising steadily, I trekked to the main stage. With the rain over, the crowd sprawled on ponchos and raincoats to see Elbow, Echo and the Bunnymen, and headliner Coldplay. I arrived to find Guy Garvey introducing ‘Grounds for Divorce,’ a perfect song for large festival crowds. ‘Divorce’ combined with sweeping, violin-tinged closer ‘On a Day Like This’ put Elbow in competition for the technically strongest band of the weekend.
Brooding Echo and the Bunnymen seemed subdued in comparison. Opener ‘Lips Like Sugar’ was my favorite track, although the pair in front of me enthusiastically doing yoga (yes, seriously, not a euphemism, actually doing yoga) preferred a sparkling version of ‘Bring on the Dancing Horses.’ They closed with what Ian McCulloch called a ‘holy trinity’ including ‘The Killing Moon’ and wonderfully dark ‘The Cutter.’
The sun set before Coldplay, who opened with booming ‘Violet Hill,’ followed by the angular lasers of ‘Clocks’ against Manhattan’s skyline. Chris Martin proclaimed APW “the strangest smelling festival,” altering the lyrics of ‘Fix You’ to “When your feet get wet at a Coldplay show/ What could be worse?” They included a gorgeous take on ‘Lovers in Japan’ and a cluster of acoustic songs played in the crowd, including a decent but unremarkable cover of ‘Billie Jean’ ‘The Scientist’ was an ideal encore, with the crowd singing along as the festival concluded.
I skipped the middle of Coldplay to see MGMT. Ankles submerged in disconcertingly warm mud and surrounded by bandanas and paisley, I caught the second half of ‘Of Moons, Birds, and Monsters’ splendidly psychedelic guitars, the terrific crescendos of ‘Weekend Wars,’ and new track ‘It’s Working.’ ‘Kids’ was sharp and catchy, and ‘Electric Feel’ was enjoyable, although it suffered from nasal vocals. I rejoined my friends and we made our way out through the mix of bog and murky, oceanic puddles. As we crossed the central swamp my sandal was ripped apart by the sticky mud and became my final apparel casualty. I headed back to Manhattan soggy and shoeless but satisfied.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
"Like Girl Talk's hot cousin"
Just a quick note to say that the new Super Mash Bros. album appeared for download this evening and I love it. I can't explain why at all; I feel pretty neutral about other mashup acts like Girl Talk and Ludachrist but SMB makes me want to go outside and run like 15 miles then kickbox or something. Maybe it's the fact that their sampling is so incredibly mainstream, undistorted, and clever. Girl Talk overwhelms me and Ludachrist is too remix/techno, but SMB keeps it recognizable and brings back some entertaining memories of the 90's (Crazy Town's "Butterfly"? Bet you forgot that one existed. Now it's back, crushed into "Technologic" and "Jack and Diane.") Anyway, I might come back to this later but I had to say something about my favorite workout music.
As a side note, my particular favorite from the new album is the terrific splice of Television Rules the Nation/I Kissed a Girl on "Still Bleeding." Their love for The Lonely Island also garners my approval. Check out the albums here, downloadable for free since their content is less than legal:
http://bit.ly/iN9jO (new album)
http://www.lazerwolf.com/ (Their 2008 debut)
As a side note, my particular favorite from the new album is the terrific splice of Television Rules the Nation/I Kissed a Girl on "Still Bleeding." Their love for The Lonely Island also garners my approval. Check out the albums here, downloadable for free since their content is less than legal:
http://bit.ly/iN9jO (new album)
http://www.lazerwolf.com/ (Their 2008 debut)
Sunday, June 7, 2009
O, Valencia!
The Decemberists
Tower Theater, Philadelphia, June 6
When I ventured to Philadelphia's Tower Theater to see The Decemberists, I thought it would be a low-key affair; Tower's shows are all seated and The Decemberists' music tends to be gentle. So I was in for quite the surprise when it turned into one of the most exciting gigs I've seen this year. Opener Robyn Hitchcock was a pleasant if slightly innocuous beginning to the evening, playing a set that shifted between soft, folk-tinged guitar and songs that edged toward a harder sound. The standout of his performance was 'Up to our Nex,' a track that appeared in last year's Rachel Getting Married.
After a brief break, The Decemberists appeared in silhouette against a background that shifted colors moodily throughout the gig. The Portland-based band is normally a five piece, but they've number expanded to an Arcade Fire-rivaling seven with the addition of guest vocalists Shara Worden and Becky Stark. Frontman Colin Meloy got the most cheers when he finally took the stage, kicking off the set with the first track from their latest album, The Hazards of Love.
Hazards consists of 17 songs telling the story of a young woman named Margaret, her rakish lover, a forest queen, and the troubles that inevitably ensue when you combine those characters. It's a beautiful and unusual piece that showcases Meloy's penchant for storytelling, and it demands a unique live presentation. So, during this tour The Decemberists have been playing Hazards in its entirety, a experience that highlights its careful composition and the band's technical prowess.
Hazards is a varied album and a departure for The Decemberists, straying from the gentle, folky sound that characterizes their previous releases in favor of chunkier guitars and a darker overall aesthetic. That's not to say that their love of unusual instrumentation has diminished-- everything from steel guitar to accordion to double bass makes an appearance. Seeing the album as a cohesive whole is transfixing; the way reprises and melodies shift and fold in on each other is magical, and the deliberately symbolic staging and costuming of Stark and Worden underscores the theatrical elements. It's a testament to the band that they reproduce a complex piece live with stunning success, and a gift to fans who get such a singular experience.
Standouts from the first half of the evening included vindictive single "The Rake's Song," which saw five Decemberists drumming at once, and the contrasting delicate harmonies of "An Interlude." The appearance of My Brightest Diamond's Worden, looking like Karen O. and shaking things up with some dance moves and gold leggings during "The Queen's Rebuke/The Crossing," was another highlight, as were Meloy and Stark's duets. "The Wanting Comes in Waves/Repaid" showcased one of the catchiest hooks The Decemberists have produced, twisting guitar that's miles away from Picaresque. They retired for intermission after eerie "Hazards of Love 4 (The Drowned)," then reappeared for a set of older songs that had the audience on its feet for the rest of the night.
The energetic second half of the show brought some classic, mandolin-accented, folktale-laden Decemberists, opening with "Crane Wife 3," flagging a bit through slower tracks "Shiny" and "Sleepless," then breaking out crowd favorite "July July." Unlike the pristine first half, the second set suffered from some sound problems, with Meloy's vocals occasionally getting drowned out by the rest of the band. This did little to diminish the crowd's excitement when he introduced "Dracula's Daughter" as "the worst song I've ever written," pointing out its "douchey" chords before moving on to a gorgeous rendition of "O Valencia!" The showpiece was "Chimbley Sweep," which saw Meloy and guitarist Chris Funk passing their instruments off to some front row fans for an extended interlude. Stark and Worden then returned for an unexpected cover of Heart's "Crazy on You." The encore brought delicate, country-tinged "Bandit Queen," followed by fabulous closer "Sons and Daughters," with Meloy leading an audience singalong of final line "We are the bombs that fade away."
The verdict? The Decemberists should do anything but fade away if they get the appreciation they deserve for this tour with Hazards. Their musical skill and sense for dramatic arrangement shines in both the sprawling new album and their older work (although the first half of the set overshadowed the second), and Meloy is a charismatic and frequently funny leader for the talented group of musicians. If you can experience Hazards as a whole, do so; it's a sparkling and thoughtful piece that stays with you long after the performance ends.
Tower Theater, Philadelphia, June 6
When I ventured to Philadelphia's Tower Theater to see The Decemberists, I thought it would be a low-key affair; Tower's shows are all seated and The Decemberists' music tends to be gentle. So I was in for quite the surprise when it turned into one of the most exciting gigs I've seen this year. Opener Robyn Hitchcock was a pleasant if slightly innocuous beginning to the evening, playing a set that shifted between soft, folk-tinged guitar and songs that edged toward a harder sound. The standout of his performance was 'Up to our Nex,' a track that appeared in last year's Rachel Getting Married.
After a brief break, The Decemberists appeared in silhouette against a background that shifted colors moodily throughout the gig. The Portland-based band is normally a five piece, but they've number expanded to an Arcade Fire-rivaling seven with the addition of guest vocalists Shara Worden and Becky Stark. Frontman Colin Meloy got the most cheers when he finally took the stage, kicking off the set with the first track from their latest album, The Hazards of Love.
Hazards consists of 17 songs telling the story of a young woman named Margaret, her rakish lover, a forest queen, and the troubles that inevitably ensue when you combine those characters. It's a beautiful and unusual piece that showcases Meloy's penchant for storytelling, and it demands a unique live presentation. So, during this tour The Decemberists have been playing Hazards in its entirety, a experience that highlights its careful composition and the band's technical prowess.
Hazards is a varied album and a departure for The Decemberists, straying from the gentle, folky sound that characterizes their previous releases in favor of chunkier guitars and a darker overall aesthetic. That's not to say that their love of unusual instrumentation has diminished-- everything from steel guitar to accordion to double bass makes an appearance. Seeing the album as a cohesive whole is transfixing; the way reprises and melodies shift and fold in on each other is magical, and the deliberately symbolic staging and costuming of Stark and Worden underscores the theatrical elements. It's a testament to the band that they reproduce a complex piece live with stunning success, and a gift to fans who get such a singular experience.
Standouts from the first half of the evening included vindictive single "The Rake's Song," which saw five Decemberists drumming at once, and the contrasting delicate harmonies of "An Interlude." The appearance of My Brightest Diamond's Worden, looking like Karen O. and shaking things up with some dance moves and gold leggings during "The Queen's Rebuke/The Crossing," was another highlight, as were Meloy and Stark's duets. "The Wanting Comes in Waves/Repaid" showcased one of the catchiest hooks The Decemberists have produced, twisting guitar that's miles away from Picaresque. They retired for intermission after eerie "Hazards of Love 4 (The Drowned)," then reappeared for a set of older songs that had the audience on its feet for the rest of the night.
The energetic second half of the show brought some classic, mandolin-accented, folktale-laden Decemberists, opening with "Crane Wife 3," flagging a bit through slower tracks "Shiny" and "Sleepless," then breaking out crowd favorite "July July." Unlike the pristine first half, the second set suffered from some sound problems, with Meloy's vocals occasionally getting drowned out by the rest of the band. This did little to diminish the crowd's excitement when he introduced "Dracula's Daughter" as "the worst song I've ever written," pointing out its "douchey" chords before moving on to a gorgeous rendition of "O Valencia!" The showpiece was "Chimbley Sweep," which saw Meloy and guitarist Chris Funk passing their instruments off to some front row fans for an extended interlude. Stark and Worden then returned for an unexpected cover of Heart's "Crazy on You." The encore brought delicate, country-tinged "Bandit Queen," followed by fabulous closer "Sons and Daughters," with Meloy leading an audience singalong of final line "We are the bombs that fade away."
The verdict? The Decemberists should do anything but fade away if they get the appreciation they deserve for this tour with Hazards. Their musical skill and sense for dramatic arrangement shines in both the sprawling new album and their older work (although the first half of the set overshadowed the second), and Meloy is a charismatic and frequently funny leader for the talented group of musicians. If you can experience Hazards as a whole, do so; it's a sparkling and thoughtful piece that stays with you long after the performance ends.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Toto, We're Not in Camden Anymore...
I was giddy this January when I stepped off the plane at Heathrow, tickets in hand to see some bands that I love who rarely come to the U.S. I spent five months in London earlier this year, and got spoiled by its amazing music scene. There was always an awesome gig to go to! Everyone knew about Crystal Castles! 7” singles were available in stores, not just on ebay for five times their normal price! London felt like a musical wonderland, particularly in its abundance of great gigs.
Don’t get me wrong; there are a lot of things I love about America. We have Coachella and SXSW (and lower sales tax and better Mexican food). But our live music scene is quite different from the bounty that London’s high density of gigs offers.
A major hindrance for American concert addicts like me is the sheer size of the country, which prevents the kind of centralized, dedicated concertgoing that London offers. I live on the East Coast about two hours south of New York, an area dotted with urban, musically inclined enclaves. But my Last.fm events list often yields only a few results for each day, and driving two hours or more to a gig is a regular part of life. While a friend of mine in England has to choose which Muse gig he wants to attend near his hometown, I find myself just hoping they’ll add a date somewhere within a two hundred mile radius. I imagine it would be many times worse if I lived in the vast stretches of the Midwest. Distance also makes it harder for up and coming bands to promote their music by touring; it’s one thing to drive from London to Liverpool in a shoddy van, another to make the trek from New York to Austin without a label backing you. The constraints of space make fans of local scenes in America more devoted, but also prevents a lot of small bands from contributing to scenes in more than a few cities.
However, I’m not trying to say that I haven’t seen amazing gigs here. In fact, the U.S. is a great place to see international artists who haven’t quite broken the American market, particularly at SXSW. One of my favorite gigs of the past year was a fabulous Wombats show in the tiny, sweaty basement of First Unitarian Church, arguably Philadelphia’s most unique venue. And I have to give credit to East Coast cities, especially Baltimore, where the local music scene is expanding exponentially. But Americans also favor gigs in the giant, nondescript arenas that populate the country. I’ll desperately miss bigger shows in London’s singular venues, particularly Camden’s theater-style Koko and the vast, glass-ceilinged Olympia.
But the venue doesn’t make the gig, and there’s another fundamental rift between the scenes in England and America.
English fans are intense. When they go to gigs, it’s because they either adore the band, or love music enough to see anyone with a guitar. A large number of people in most crowds know the words to every song, even those that have only been heard as Youtube leaks. A Maccabees show at Matter this February was a cathartically violent experience. The crowd was pressed so tightly, desperate to get closer to the band, that my feet didn’t touch the ground for most of the set. It was fantastic; the collective excitement about the music was stunning. I had a different but equally terrific experience at Camden Crawl, when The Whip won over a diverse crowd that knew relatively little of their music. England’s desire to discover new music sets it apart; Americans tend to be surly toward unknowns, especially openers, but crowds in the U.K. are really listening, even to bands who are just starting out in pub gigs.
American fans, though, seem to be having more fun. Gigs sometimes have a casual, party atmosphere that makes them more a social occasion than a strictly musical experience. I took a friend who knows very little about music to a Rakes gig in London and he noted that “nobody was dancing.” This wasn’t strictly true, but they weren’t dancing with the kind of abandon that you see at American shows. American fans have a great time at concerts, and they love a singalong. I was stunned by the anticipation for the “do-do-do” refrain of Chelsea Dagger at a Fratellis show in Philly this summer. But fans tend to be more casual and less generally interested in music. They’re less likely to know every word to every song, and they’re unsatisfied if bands don’t play hit singles. At the same Fratellis gig, the crowd wouldn’t shut up about Chelsea Dagger until it was played. And they glared at the openers like they were watching puppies get kicked. They enjoyed the music, but only the music they already knew.
If I had to chose the most fundamental difference between gigs in America and Britain it would be this: there’s much more devotion to the culture of live music in the U.K. The proliferation of gigs, the enthusiasm for all live music, and the fervor of fans make the concert atmosphere electric. Sure, you might end up with a few bruises when a rabid Maccabees fan shoves you into the amp, but it’s worth it.
Don’t get me wrong; there are a lot of things I love about America. We have Coachella and SXSW (and lower sales tax and better Mexican food). But our live music scene is quite different from the bounty that London’s high density of gigs offers.
A major hindrance for American concert addicts like me is the sheer size of the country, which prevents the kind of centralized, dedicated concertgoing that London offers. I live on the East Coast about two hours south of New York, an area dotted with urban, musically inclined enclaves. But my Last.fm events list often yields only a few results for each day, and driving two hours or more to a gig is a regular part of life. While a friend of mine in England has to choose which Muse gig he wants to attend near his hometown, I find myself just hoping they’ll add a date somewhere within a two hundred mile radius. I imagine it would be many times worse if I lived in the vast stretches of the Midwest. Distance also makes it harder for up and coming bands to promote their music by touring; it’s one thing to drive from London to Liverpool in a shoddy van, another to make the trek from New York to Austin without a label backing you. The constraints of space make fans of local scenes in America more devoted, but also prevents a lot of small bands from contributing to scenes in more than a few cities.
However, I’m not trying to say that I haven’t seen amazing gigs here. In fact, the U.S. is a great place to see international artists who haven’t quite broken the American market, particularly at SXSW. One of my favorite gigs of the past year was a fabulous Wombats show in the tiny, sweaty basement of First Unitarian Church, arguably Philadelphia’s most unique venue. And I have to give credit to East Coast cities, especially Baltimore, where the local music scene is expanding exponentially. But Americans also favor gigs in the giant, nondescript arenas that populate the country. I’ll desperately miss bigger shows in London’s singular venues, particularly Camden’s theater-style Koko and the vast, glass-ceilinged Olympia.
But the venue doesn’t make the gig, and there’s another fundamental rift between the scenes in England and America.
English fans are intense. When they go to gigs, it’s because they either adore the band, or love music enough to see anyone with a guitar. A large number of people in most crowds know the words to every song, even those that have only been heard as Youtube leaks. A Maccabees show at Matter this February was a cathartically violent experience. The crowd was pressed so tightly, desperate to get closer to the band, that my feet didn’t touch the ground for most of the set. It was fantastic; the collective excitement about the music was stunning. I had a different but equally terrific experience at Camden Crawl, when The Whip won over a diverse crowd that knew relatively little of their music. England’s desire to discover new music sets it apart; Americans tend to be surly toward unknowns, especially openers, but crowds in the U.K. are really listening, even to bands who are just starting out in pub gigs.
American fans, though, seem to be having more fun. Gigs sometimes have a casual, party atmosphere that makes them more a social occasion than a strictly musical experience. I took a friend who knows very little about music to a Rakes gig in London and he noted that “nobody was dancing.” This wasn’t strictly true, but they weren’t dancing with the kind of abandon that you see at American shows. American fans have a great time at concerts, and they love a singalong. I was stunned by the anticipation for the “do-do-do” refrain of Chelsea Dagger at a Fratellis show in Philly this summer. But fans tend to be more casual and less generally interested in music. They’re less likely to know every word to every song, and they’re unsatisfied if bands don’t play hit singles. At the same Fratellis gig, the crowd wouldn’t shut up about Chelsea Dagger until it was played. And they glared at the openers like they were watching puppies get kicked. They enjoyed the music, but only the music they already knew.
If I had to chose the most fundamental difference between gigs in America and Britain it would be this: there’s much more devotion to the culture of live music in the U.K. The proliferation of gigs, the enthusiasm for all live music, and the fervor of fans make the concert atmosphere electric. Sure, you might end up with a few bruises when a rabid Maccabees fan shoves you into the amp, but it’s worth it.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
What A Waster?
So, since the gigs will be tapering off slightly now that I'm not in London I'll be adding some new things to my blog. Some about my research, some about my struggles to be a fan of British music in the States, and some of my random ramblings on various topics. This entry is one of the latter...
What a Waster?
Pete Doherty in America
I’m in a minority in America-- I’m a Pete Doherty fan. The thing that surprises most Americans about Pete isn’t the shocking number of drug charges he’s racked up in the past few years. Or his bimonthly Youtube escapades with a brigade of kittens. It’s that he’s relatively famous in Britain. Besides the rare mention on E! as Kate Moss’ former erstwhile boyfriend and a lone Spin cover last year, Pete is largely under the radar in the United States. It’s a strange situation; he’s been selling tabloids for years in England, but Americans would be hard pressed to pick him out of a lineup of weedy, trilby-bedecked pale guys.
Why? Well, it certainly doesn’t help that his criminal record makes it virtually impossible for him to tour the U.S, leaving his work with Babyshambles and his stunning new solo effort, Grace/Wastelands, unpromoted. This would be a major problem for any artist, but it’s especially bad news for Pete because a lot of his shambolic charm is lost if you don’t get the live experience. I saw him twice in London this spring, with Babyshambles and then solo, and his performances profoundly changed the way I listen to his music. The emotion he brings to his lyrics in a live show lingers when you hear his albums again. Doherty can be infuriating-- he showed up at 2 a.m. for the Shambles gig I saw-- but he’s also incredibly compelling on stage. It might be his saving grace in the UK; no matter what he’s doing in the tabloids, he’s an undeniable talent.
The upside to Doherty’s complete lack of publicity in America is a lack of bad publicity. After years of exposure to Pete painting with his own blood, canceling strings of gigs, and cavorting online with Amy Winehouse and a litter of mice, English audiences have every right to be skeptical about the quality of his music. His reputation here is much more innocuous; “Isn’t that the guy who used to date Kate Moss? He does music?” He has an opportunity, especially in his new incarnation as the more serious, professional ‘Peter’ Doherty, to win over the US market. He doesn’t have to win over an alienated or critical audience, just win fans for the first time. Which should be easy if he can keep up the new persona; when he’s sober, it becomes apparent that he’s witty, likable, and an incredibly gifted performer.
So why not just push Grace/Wastelands without a tour? The album is terrific-- easily Pete’s most put-together, relaxed, accessible work. But is it accessible enough for an uninitiated audience? Half the joy of Pete’s work for UK fans is in the complex mythology of his musical past, the autobiographical nature of his work and legendarily volatile partnership with Carl Barat. Most of his fans have been listening since The Libertines (and listening hard; the crowd knew every word during his gig at Camden’s Proud in April, even when he broke out Libs b-side The Ha-ha Wall). It’s questionable whether he could make it without that kind of intensely dedicated fanbase, as well as the fawning support of the NME and the irrefutable evidence of his talent in the form of Up the Bracket. Plus there’s no real niche for him in America, no easy way to explain him to prospective listeners. At home he’s got an entire battalion of bands like The View and The Courteeners who desperately want to be The Libertines, bringing his music into at least a tributary of the mainstream. Here he’d be competing with the likes of Rihanna and Coldplay for radio time and end up falsely classified with acoustic, shoegazing American indie that populates our college radio stations.
Another huge hurdle might be the inherent Englishness of Pete’s music. In truth, it’s one of the things I find most compelling about his work. His vision of England as a Blakeian Albion is elegant and unique, but there’s no guarantee it will make any sense to a listener in San Diego. And even if it does, will it strike the same nerve of bittersweet nationalism? Lyrics have always been Pete’s strong point; Carl was the one who shaped The Lib’s punk sound. But understanding the myriad references, from Wilde to Stoppard, takes some investment and repeat spins, and will mean nothing to a casual listener. American audiences might wonder why they should bother dealing with “gin in teacups and leaves on the lawn” when they can just have “sex on fire.”
Like his notoriously unstable gigs, Pete Doherty’s image in America goes in a thousand directions. His image might be better without the constant parade of Sun covers, but he also might need that extra push of publicity--even the negative kind that spins him as a tragic genius/junkie-- to overcome the challenges that his nuanced, deeply British music presents for an international audience.
What a Waster?
Pete Doherty in America
I’m in a minority in America-- I’m a Pete Doherty fan. The thing that surprises most Americans about Pete isn’t the shocking number of drug charges he’s racked up in the past few years. Or his bimonthly Youtube escapades with a brigade of kittens. It’s that he’s relatively famous in Britain. Besides the rare mention on E! as Kate Moss’ former erstwhile boyfriend and a lone Spin cover last year, Pete is largely under the radar in the United States. It’s a strange situation; he’s been selling tabloids for years in England, but Americans would be hard pressed to pick him out of a lineup of weedy, trilby-bedecked pale guys.
Why? Well, it certainly doesn’t help that his criminal record makes it virtually impossible for him to tour the U.S, leaving his work with Babyshambles and his stunning new solo effort, Grace/Wastelands, unpromoted. This would be a major problem for any artist, but it’s especially bad news for Pete because a lot of his shambolic charm is lost if you don’t get the live experience. I saw him twice in London this spring, with Babyshambles and then solo, and his performances profoundly changed the way I listen to his music. The emotion he brings to his lyrics in a live show lingers when you hear his albums again. Doherty can be infuriating-- he showed up at 2 a.m. for the Shambles gig I saw-- but he’s also incredibly compelling on stage. It might be his saving grace in the UK; no matter what he’s doing in the tabloids, he’s an undeniable talent.
The upside to Doherty’s complete lack of publicity in America is a lack of bad publicity. After years of exposure to Pete painting with his own blood, canceling strings of gigs, and cavorting online with Amy Winehouse and a litter of mice, English audiences have every right to be skeptical about the quality of his music. His reputation here is much more innocuous; “Isn’t that the guy who used to date Kate Moss? He does music?” He has an opportunity, especially in his new incarnation as the more serious, professional ‘Peter’ Doherty, to win over the US market. He doesn’t have to win over an alienated or critical audience, just win fans for the first time. Which should be easy if he can keep up the new persona; when he’s sober, it becomes apparent that he’s witty, likable, and an incredibly gifted performer.
So why not just push Grace/Wastelands without a tour? The album is terrific-- easily Pete’s most put-together, relaxed, accessible work. But is it accessible enough for an uninitiated audience? Half the joy of Pete’s work for UK fans is in the complex mythology of his musical past, the autobiographical nature of his work and legendarily volatile partnership with Carl Barat. Most of his fans have been listening since The Libertines (and listening hard; the crowd knew every word during his gig at Camden’s Proud in April, even when he broke out Libs b-side The Ha-ha Wall). It’s questionable whether he could make it without that kind of intensely dedicated fanbase, as well as the fawning support of the NME and the irrefutable evidence of his talent in the form of Up the Bracket. Plus there’s no real niche for him in America, no easy way to explain him to prospective listeners. At home he’s got an entire battalion of bands like The View and The Courteeners who desperately want to be The Libertines, bringing his music into at least a tributary of the mainstream. Here he’d be competing with the likes of Rihanna and Coldplay for radio time and end up falsely classified with acoustic, shoegazing American indie that populates our college radio stations.
Another huge hurdle might be the inherent Englishness of Pete’s music. In truth, it’s one of the things I find most compelling about his work. His vision of England as a Blakeian Albion is elegant and unique, but there’s no guarantee it will make any sense to a listener in San Diego. And even if it does, will it strike the same nerve of bittersweet nationalism? Lyrics have always been Pete’s strong point; Carl was the one who shaped The Lib’s punk sound. But understanding the myriad references, from Wilde to Stoppard, takes some investment and repeat spins, and will mean nothing to a casual listener. American audiences might wonder why they should bother dealing with “gin in teacups and leaves on the lawn” when they can just have “sex on fire.”
Like his notoriously unstable gigs, Pete Doherty’s image in America goes in a thousand directions. His image might be better without the constant parade of Sun covers, but he also might need that extra push of publicity--even the negative kind that spins him as a tragic genius/junkie-- to overcome the challenges that his nuanced, deeply British music presents for an international audience.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Just Give Me A Second, Darling
White Lies
Heaven, May 7
My very last concert in London bookended with one of the first I saw. Having been pleasantly surprised and impressed by White Lies at their album preview in January, I wanted to see them in a real concert setting. This gig was significantly larger than the earlier one; their album debuted on top of the chart in the UK, so their two nights at strangely cavernous club Heaven sold out quickly. This resulted in an interesting excursion day-of to pick up ebayed tickets from a 50 year old German man named Hans outside Aldgate East tube station. In Jenna's words, "I felt like we were doing a drug deal."
Having prevailed over some kind of water main problem outside, we ventured to Heaven in time to catch the second half of opener School of Seven Bells. They've been getting a lot of buzz, but I think half of a set was about all I needed. Their mix of ethereal harmonies and heavy, twisting guitar is certainly interesting, but most of their songs sound very similar. While not terrible, the most interesting thing about the band was their Cillian Murphy doppelganger guitarist and his strange dancing.
White Lies appeared after a brief interval and played most of their album. That's both the up and down side to bands with only one album in their repetoire; you get to hear every song you like, but there's very little surprise. Some highlights of the set included singles To Lose My Life and Farewell to the Fairground, as well as gloomy Joy Division homage Unfinished Business. A surprise favorite of mine ended up being a stripped down version of slow-burning Nothing to Give. They returned for an encore that included an up-tempo new track and stunning closer Death.
White Lies has much in common with several bands from the past couple of years. Their gloom-rock, black clothes, stripped down lights aesthetic shares a lot with The Rakes, Editors, newer Horrors, etc., but the thing that surprises is how young the band is. Still teenagers when they formed White Lies precursor Fear of Flying, the band has just cracked their twenties and perform like consummate professionals. Harry McVeigh has the stiff, serious kind of showmanship that Brandon Flowers could have if he toned down the nerves and the weird dancing (McVeigh also has moments when he breaks the Curtis drone and sounds a bit like B. Flo.). They have the charisma in their music to play arenas if they can avoid the sophomore album curse and expand on the dark, dramatic sound that makes To Lose My Life such a fantastic album.
Heaven, May 7
My very last concert in London bookended with one of the first I saw. Having been pleasantly surprised and impressed by White Lies at their album preview in January, I wanted to see them in a real concert setting. This gig was significantly larger than the earlier one; their album debuted on top of the chart in the UK, so their two nights at strangely cavernous club Heaven sold out quickly. This resulted in an interesting excursion day-of to pick up ebayed tickets from a 50 year old German man named Hans outside Aldgate East tube station. In Jenna's words, "I felt like we were doing a drug deal."
Having prevailed over some kind of water main problem outside, we ventured to Heaven in time to catch the second half of opener School of Seven Bells. They've been getting a lot of buzz, but I think half of a set was about all I needed. Their mix of ethereal harmonies and heavy, twisting guitar is certainly interesting, but most of their songs sound very similar. While not terrible, the most interesting thing about the band was their Cillian Murphy doppelganger guitarist and his strange dancing.
White Lies appeared after a brief interval and played most of their album. That's both the up and down side to bands with only one album in their repetoire; you get to hear every song you like, but there's very little surprise. Some highlights of the set included singles To Lose My Life and Farewell to the Fairground, as well as gloomy Joy Division homage Unfinished Business. A surprise favorite of mine ended up being a stripped down version of slow-burning Nothing to Give. They returned for an encore that included an up-tempo new track and stunning closer Death.
White Lies has much in common with several bands from the past couple of years. Their gloom-rock, black clothes, stripped down lights aesthetic shares a lot with The Rakes, Editors, newer Horrors, etc., but the thing that surprises is how young the band is. Still teenagers when they formed White Lies precursor Fear of Flying, the band has just cracked their twenties and perform like consummate professionals. Harry McVeigh has the stiff, serious kind of showmanship that Brandon Flowers could have if he toned down the nerves and the weird dancing (McVeigh also has moments when he breaks the Curtis drone and sounds a bit like B. Flo.). They have the charisma in their music to play arenas if they can avoid the sophomore album curse and expand on the dark, dramatic sound that makes To Lose My Life such a fantastic album.
Friday, May 1, 2009
A Strange Education
The Cinematics
Barfly, Camden, April 30
Lanette and I made our way to her last and my second to last gig at Camden's Barfly for The Cinematics. There was a rather large number of support acts, so we came in time to catch the last of the three, The Hip Parade (identified by the word HIP emblazoned on their instruments with electrical tape). Barfly's miniscule size made their set a little louder than was perhaps necessary, but their upbeat, chant-heavy, Franz Ferdinand-esque rock was a pleasant surprise. Some people in the crowd were...a little more enthusiastic than we were (re: extreme over-dancing), but they were an easy opener to watch.
After a short break, The Cinematics emerged. Actually they emerged from the side door and walked through the crowd past us to get to the stage. It's seriously a tiny venue. Their set was made up mostly of tracks from debut album A Strange Education, although they introduced a few new songs to preview their upcoming sophomore effort. Title track from said album, Love and Terror, was a standout, as was b-side Wish (when the banks collapse), the rare track with political commentary that I could actually stomach.
Some of my favorites for the evening were Maybe Someday, A Strange Education, and Rise & Fall. The Cinematics keep up the kind of gloom-rock aesthetic favored by contemporaries like Interpol and White Lies. Namely a lot of severe black suits, square, military inspired jackets, and slicked back hair. The exception was the guy in ironic thick glasses and suspenders who apparently got The Cinematics confused with another band. Wish I could have gotten a good picture, but the angle was terrible.
The verdict? Like White Lies, The Cinematics' music is much improved by live performance, which really energizes it. Seeing them in a really tiny venue was fun; one of the really great things about London is getting to see so many bands in such intimate locales. They make me want to see Interpol live, to see if the trend of bands like this being stellar live continues.
Barfly, Camden, April 30
Lanette and I made our way to her last and my second to last gig at Camden's Barfly for The Cinematics. There was a rather large number of support acts, so we came in time to catch the last of the three, The Hip Parade (identified by the word HIP emblazoned on their instruments with electrical tape). Barfly's miniscule size made their set a little louder than was perhaps necessary, but their upbeat, chant-heavy, Franz Ferdinand-esque rock was a pleasant surprise. Some people in the crowd were...a little more enthusiastic than we were (re: extreme over-dancing), but they were an easy opener to watch.
After a short break, The Cinematics emerged. Actually they emerged from the side door and walked through the crowd past us to get to the stage. It's seriously a tiny venue. Their set was made up mostly of tracks from debut album A Strange Education, although they introduced a few new songs to preview their upcoming sophomore effort. Title track from said album, Love and Terror, was a standout, as was b-side Wish (when the banks collapse), the rare track with political commentary that I could actually stomach.
Some of my favorites for the evening were Maybe Someday, A Strange Education, and Rise & Fall. The Cinematics keep up the kind of gloom-rock aesthetic favored by contemporaries like Interpol and White Lies. Namely a lot of severe black suits, square, military inspired jackets, and slicked back hair. The exception was the guy in ironic thick glasses and suspenders who apparently got The Cinematics confused with another band. Wish I could have gotten a good picture, but the angle was terrible.
The verdict? Like White Lies, The Cinematics' music is much improved by live performance, which really energizes it. Seeing them in a really tiny venue was fun; one of the really great things about London is getting to see so many bands in such intimate locales. They make me want to see Interpol live, to see if the trend of bands like this being stellar live continues.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Camden Town Leisure Piracy
Camden Crawl
April 24-25, Camden
Friday:
Art Brut
The Whip
Echo and the Bunnymen
Saturday:
Little Boots
The Maccabees
Frankmusik
I had very high hopes for the weekend of Camden Crawl. Loads of bands that I love, in venues that I love, in my favorite part of London. What could be better? Well, actually seeing those bands in the venues would have been a good start. The problem with Camden Crawl wasn't the lineup, or the bands themselves, but the organization. From moment one there were huge conflicts. Friday night: Yeah Yeah Yeahs and opener The Virgins in conflict with Art Brut and Echo and the Bunnymen. I ended up choosing Art Brut/Echo after seeing the massive queue for YYY's and realizing that we would entirely miss Virgins trying to get in.
Having waited in yet another massive queue to pick up our wristbands, we trekked across Camden to Koko and got in just as Art Brut started their set. Eddie Argos is the obvious star of the band, even though the drummer had a fabulous combination of handlebar mustache, madras shorts, and high socks. Plus he stood the whole time, which was an interesting tactic for drumming. Argos got into the set with a crowd invasion, and had fairly substantial chats with the audience between numbers. A high energy set that included new single Alcoholics Unanimous, The Passenger, DC Comics and Chocolate Milkshakes, Modern Art, Pump Up the Volume, (my personal favorite) Emily Kane and the surprise closer Formed a Band was a great way to kick off the evening. Impromptu lyric changes, particularly the clever switch-up of "stop stealing your albums from the internet" in Formed a Band,, were one of the best parts of the set. The other highlight was discovering that Argos really does talk like that all the time.
The space between Art Brut and the night's headliner was lesser known band The Whip. I went in with no real expectations about their music, and was in for an incredibly pleasant surprise. The Manchester four-piece has been a part of the festival scene for a few years, but their brand of electro/dance/rock isn't the sort of thing I normally go for. However, they were spot-on live and got the entire crowd dancing, an impressive feat in notoriously hard-to-impress Camden. Between the great music and the perfectly coordinated light show, I could have watched The Whip for a much longer set. They were by far my favorite band of the weekend, and one that you absolutely need to see live. Although their album is fantastic, the music just isn't the same when it's not heard in the midst of in a dancing crowd. Particular standouts from the set were the icy, angular Sister Siam and my personal favorite, Trash. Download it now.
The Whip
The crowd crammed in after The Whip for Echo and the Bunnymen, who felt almost underwhelming after the previous set. One of the great generation of dark synth indie that I adore, I had been looking forward to their gig for ages. Their music is the foundation for some of the stuff coming out of Britain now (my favorite of 2009, White Lies, included). While the new music that they're touring in support of is enjoyable, the obvious highlights of the set were their classic tracks. Lips Like Sugar, Bring on the Dancing Horses, The Cutter and, of course, The Killing Moon, were the night's most memorable moments. The tracks were well spaced in the set, and strong playing made it an enjoyable end to the evening.
Echo and the Bunnymen
Day two started off in hopes of avoiding the line issues of the day before by arriving earlier, but we were faced with similar struggles with organization. Headliner Kasabian was the only big draw for the night, and when we scored wristbands (after a protracted wait in a rather undifferentiated line) for the Roundhouse, we thought we were golden. However, we discovered that our wristbands were good only for the first half of the night (Little Boots and The Maccabees). While I'd already seen The View, missing Kasabian was a massive disappointment when we found out that wristbands for Kasabian could only be collected during the Maccabees set. Sigh.
Little Boots (actually the stage name of British songstress Victoria Hesketh), would have been entertaining if it weren't for the incredibly awful lack of balance between the bass and the rest of the music. We moved to the back of the Roundhouse after we noted that we could actually feel our internal organs vibrating independently. Unfortunate. Little Boots did some electronic stuff not entirely dissimilar to The Whip, with a much more disco edge. Highlights from the set included Stuck on Repeat and Mathematics. We spent the time in between acts using iPhone wiki to discover that the odd thing she used to create the beats for her songs was the Japanese 'instrument' tenori-on. The more you know...
The Maccabees emerged next, playing the kind of terrific up-tempo show that they produced at matter in February, minus the bone-crushing violence of the crowd. I'm completely in love with new singles No Kind Words and Love You Better,, particularly the amazing tempo change at the end of NKW. All the new tracks from Wall of Arms have the same kind of frenetic energy that Colour It In possesses, but the new complexity of their arrangements suggests a band that is maturing as they record. I especially enjoyed the title track and William Powers, and finally got my wish for a live version of Toothpaste Kisses, along with X-Ray, Precious Time, First Love, and Lego. Still, woefully, no sign of my favorite track Latchmere.
Afterward we spent some time wandering Camden and catching a few local acts before checking out the strange genre collision that is Frankmusik at Koko. Not really sure what was going on there. There was some beatboxing, some actually decent singing, the late appearance of a bass that led to much confusion, and an overall feeling of mediocrity that led us to leave about 5 songs into the set. Frankly...okay, I won't do a bad pun. A little more wandering let us catch some snippets of more local bands at the Monarch and Hawley Arms, home of one of my favorite obscure bands, The Brute Chorus.
The verdict for the weekend? Great crowds-- a terrific representation of what the London music scene is about. An interesting mix of people (okay, heavily biased toward hipsters, but still much more diverse than anything you'd see in America). Definite respect for classic and new bands alike. Fabulous acts, appalling organization. The Whip was a fantastic surprise, The Maccabees and Art Brut delivered, and Echo was a fun, nostalgic set. Little Boots dislodged my spleen but taught me what a tenori-on is. Phew. The end.
April 24-25, Camden
Friday:
Art Brut
The Whip
Echo and the Bunnymen
Saturday:
Little Boots
The Maccabees
Frankmusik
I had very high hopes for the weekend of Camden Crawl. Loads of bands that I love, in venues that I love, in my favorite part of London. What could be better? Well, actually seeing those bands in the venues would have been a good start. The problem with Camden Crawl wasn't the lineup, or the bands themselves, but the organization. From moment one there were huge conflicts. Friday night: Yeah Yeah Yeahs and opener The Virgins in conflict with Art Brut and Echo and the Bunnymen. I ended up choosing Art Brut/Echo after seeing the massive queue for YYY's and realizing that we would entirely miss Virgins trying to get in.
Having waited in yet another massive queue to pick up our wristbands, we trekked across Camden to Koko and got in just as Art Brut started their set. Eddie Argos is the obvious star of the band, even though the drummer had a fabulous combination of handlebar mustache, madras shorts, and high socks. Plus he stood the whole time, which was an interesting tactic for drumming. Argos got into the set with a crowd invasion, and had fairly substantial chats with the audience between numbers. A high energy set that included new single Alcoholics Unanimous, The Passenger, DC Comics and Chocolate Milkshakes, Modern Art, Pump Up the Volume, (my personal favorite) Emily Kane and the surprise closer Formed a Band was a great way to kick off the evening. Impromptu lyric changes, particularly the clever switch-up of "stop stealing your albums from the internet" in Formed a Band,, were one of the best parts of the set. The other highlight was discovering that Argos really does talk like that all the time.
The space between Art Brut and the night's headliner was lesser known band The Whip. I went in with no real expectations about their music, and was in for an incredibly pleasant surprise. The Manchester four-piece has been a part of the festival scene for a few years, but their brand of electro/dance/rock isn't the sort of thing I normally go for. However, they were spot-on live and got the entire crowd dancing, an impressive feat in notoriously hard-to-impress Camden. Between the great music and the perfectly coordinated light show, I could have watched The Whip for a much longer set. They were by far my favorite band of the weekend, and one that you absolutely need to see live. Although their album is fantastic, the music just isn't the same when it's not heard in the midst of in a dancing crowd. Particular standouts from the set were the icy, angular Sister Siam and my personal favorite, Trash. Download it now.
The Whip
The crowd crammed in after The Whip for Echo and the Bunnymen, who felt almost underwhelming after the previous set. One of the great generation of dark synth indie that I adore, I had been looking forward to their gig for ages. Their music is the foundation for some of the stuff coming out of Britain now (my favorite of 2009, White Lies, included). While the new music that they're touring in support of is enjoyable, the obvious highlights of the set were their classic tracks. Lips Like Sugar, Bring on the Dancing Horses, The Cutter and, of course, The Killing Moon, were the night's most memorable moments. The tracks were well spaced in the set, and strong playing made it an enjoyable end to the evening.
Echo and the Bunnymen
Day two started off in hopes of avoiding the line issues of the day before by arriving earlier, but we were faced with similar struggles with organization. Headliner Kasabian was the only big draw for the night, and when we scored wristbands (after a protracted wait in a rather undifferentiated line) for the Roundhouse, we thought we were golden. However, we discovered that our wristbands were good only for the first half of the night (Little Boots and The Maccabees). While I'd already seen The View, missing Kasabian was a massive disappointment when we found out that wristbands for Kasabian could only be collected during the Maccabees set. Sigh.
Little Boots (actually the stage name of British songstress Victoria Hesketh), would have been entertaining if it weren't for the incredibly awful lack of balance between the bass and the rest of the music. We moved to the back of the Roundhouse after we noted that we could actually feel our internal organs vibrating independently. Unfortunate. Little Boots did some electronic stuff not entirely dissimilar to The Whip, with a much more disco edge. Highlights from the set included Stuck on Repeat and Mathematics. We spent the time in between acts using iPhone wiki to discover that the odd thing she used to create the beats for her songs was the Japanese 'instrument' tenori-on. The more you know...
The Maccabees emerged next, playing the kind of terrific up-tempo show that they produced at matter in February, minus the bone-crushing violence of the crowd. I'm completely in love with new singles No Kind Words and Love You Better,, particularly the amazing tempo change at the end of NKW. All the new tracks from Wall of Arms have the same kind of frenetic energy that Colour It In possesses, but the new complexity of their arrangements suggests a band that is maturing as they record. I especially enjoyed the title track and William Powers, and finally got my wish for a live version of Toothpaste Kisses, along with X-Ray, Precious Time, First Love, and Lego. Still, woefully, no sign of my favorite track Latchmere.
Afterward we spent some time wandering Camden and catching a few local acts before checking out the strange genre collision that is Frankmusik at Koko. Not really sure what was going on there. There was some beatboxing, some actually decent singing, the late appearance of a bass that led to much confusion, and an overall feeling of mediocrity that led us to leave about 5 songs into the set. Frankly...okay, I won't do a bad pun. A little more wandering let us catch some snippets of more local bands at the Monarch and Hawley Arms, home of one of my favorite obscure bands, The Brute Chorus.
The verdict for the weekend? Great crowds-- a terrific representation of what the London music scene is about. An interesting mix of people (okay, heavily biased toward hipsters, but still much more diverse than anything you'd see in America). Definite respect for classic and new bands alike. Fabulous acts, appalling organization. The Whip was a fantastic surprise, The Maccabees and Art Brut delivered, and Echo was a fun, nostalgic set. Little Boots dislodged my spleen but taught me what a tenori-on is. Phew. The end.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Pipedown
Peter Doherty
Proud, Camden, April 22
I went into my second Doherty Experience with a certain amount of trepidation, given our previous encounter (see: Peter Doherty and the Angry Manager). I was happy to hear that this gig was at Proud, which has the advantage of not being a cave with a fence in front of the stage. Plus the new, improved 'Peter' Doherty, touring in support of Grace/Wastelands, is supposed to be much more professional than his previous incarnations in The Libertines and Babyshambles.
Paddy (possibly the only person I have ever encountered who is as rabid a Libs fan as me) seemed certain that Pete would be on after the ONE (and ONLY! THE ONLY ONE!) opener (I believe they were called The Youves) who were forgettable but inoffensive. I had more doubts, having experienced the carnage that was Daddy and the Good Girls, but Pete in fact arrived by 10:45. I'm currently in the process of nominating this to the church as a miracle. Unlike the last impromptu Babyshambles gig, this set was just Pete and an acoustic guitar for most songs, and very enjoyable. He was also looking quite dapper and healthy, a nice surprise. He kicked off with What a Waster, starting a trend of Libertines songs that continued through the evening.
Pete considers becoming Amish
Set:
What a Waster
The Good Old Days
Arcady
Lady Don't Fall Backward
Delivery
Time for Heroes
Don't Look Back into the Sun
Music When the Lights Go Out
Albion
Last of the English Roses
Merry Go Round
Death on the Stairs
The Ha Ha Wall
For Lovers
1939 Returning
The mix of old and new was nice, although I particularly enjoyed hearing a few more Libertines tracks. When you see Pete alone, the appearance of songs like Music When the Lights Go Out and Radio America in the generally more punk oeuvre of The Libs is clarified. Although Carl is generally acknowledged as the better musician, Pete has a touch for lyrics and emotion that Carl's rock tendencies usually blunt (exceptions like Holly Golightly notwithstanding). For Lovers was fantastic live, as were the new Grace/Wastelands tracks, particularly Last of the English Roses and Arcady. Albion was a favorite, as always, and The Good Old Days (modified in the same way that it appears on Oh, What a Lovely Tour!) was also terrific, although much shorter than the original track.
Former Blur member Graham Coxon made up the "and guests" part of the bill, along with the two random ballerinas that have been appearing on stage during this tour. Coxon's appearance was brief, mostly just to provide some guitar support on Time for Heroes (still not the same without Carl).
Graham Coxon
The nicest surprise of the evening was old b-side The Ha Ha Wall,, and its appearance proved a point about Pete fans. Everyone in the crowd knew every word, something that was true of nearly all the tracks over the course of the evening. I've seen a lot of bands this spring who have new albums, and fans often stand around, looking a little blank, when they play new material live. Overall, Pete's fans knew even his new tracks. This is clearly helped by the fact that a number of them aren't strictly 'new'; his notorious habit of releasing demos for free online made songs like Last of the English Roses old favorites before they appeared on Grace/Wastelands.
The juxtaposition of the two gigs shows exactly why Pete is such a controversial figure; sometimes he infuriates you with his ridiculous antics, other times he is incredibly charismatic, likable, and talented. At least in the UK, his new album and more 'professional' tour seem to be winning him back some respect as an artist. I'm hoping it's a trend that continues.
Proud, Camden, April 22
I went into my second Doherty Experience with a certain amount of trepidation, given our previous encounter (see: Peter Doherty and the Angry Manager). I was happy to hear that this gig was at Proud, which has the advantage of not being a cave with a fence in front of the stage. Plus the new, improved 'Peter' Doherty, touring in support of Grace/Wastelands, is supposed to be much more professional than his previous incarnations in The Libertines and Babyshambles.
Paddy (possibly the only person I have ever encountered who is as rabid a Libs fan as me) seemed certain that Pete would be on after the ONE (and ONLY! THE ONLY ONE!) opener (I believe they were called The Youves) who were forgettable but inoffensive. I had more doubts, having experienced the carnage that was Daddy and the Good Girls, but Pete in fact arrived by 10:45. I'm currently in the process of nominating this to the church as a miracle. Unlike the last impromptu Babyshambles gig, this set was just Pete and an acoustic guitar for most songs, and very enjoyable. He was also looking quite dapper and healthy, a nice surprise. He kicked off with What a Waster, starting a trend of Libertines songs that continued through the evening.
Pete considers becoming Amish
Set:
What a Waster
The Good Old Days
Arcady
Lady Don't Fall Backward
Delivery
Time for Heroes
Don't Look Back into the Sun
Music When the Lights Go Out
Albion
Last of the English Roses
Merry Go Round
Death on the Stairs
The Ha Ha Wall
For Lovers
1939 Returning
The mix of old and new was nice, although I particularly enjoyed hearing a few more Libertines tracks. When you see Pete alone, the appearance of songs like Music When the Lights Go Out and Radio America in the generally more punk oeuvre of The Libs is clarified. Although Carl is generally acknowledged as the better musician, Pete has a touch for lyrics and emotion that Carl's rock tendencies usually blunt (exceptions like Holly Golightly notwithstanding). For Lovers was fantastic live, as were the new Grace/Wastelands tracks, particularly Last of the English Roses and Arcady. Albion was a favorite, as always, and The Good Old Days (modified in the same way that it appears on Oh, What a Lovely Tour!) was also terrific, although much shorter than the original track.
Former Blur member Graham Coxon made up the "and guests" part of the bill, along with the two random ballerinas that have been appearing on stage during this tour. Coxon's appearance was brief, mostly just to provide some guitar support on Time for Heroes (still not the same without Carl).
Graham Coxon
The nicest surprise of the evening was old b-side The Ha Ha Wall,, and its appearance proved a point about Pete fans. Everyone in the crowd knew every word, something that was true of nearly all the tracks over the course of the evening. I've seen a lot of bands this spring who have new albums, and fans often stand around, looking a little blank, when they play new material live. Overall, Pete's fans knew even his new tracks. This is clearly helped by the fact that a number of them aren't strictly 'new'; his notorious habit of releasing demos for free online made songs like Last of the English Roses old favorites before they appeared on Grace/Wastelands.
The juxtaposition of the two gigs shows exactly why Pete is such a controversial figure; sometimes he infuriates you with his ridiculous antics, other times he is incredibly charismatic, likable, and talented. At least in the UK, his new album and more 'professional' tour seem to be winning him back some respect as an artist. I'm hoping it's a trend that continues.
Monday, April 13, 2009
East London Is a Vampire
Bloc Party, Foals
Olympia, London, April 12
Headed out to the boondocks of southwest London tonight to see Bloc Party in the surprisingly giant and bright Olympia Hall. The venue was also surprisingly crowded by the time we got there; Val and I had been expecting a much smaller show, and one with less rabid fans, since most London gigs don't seem to attract crowds very early. This kind of enthusiasm should have been a sign of things to come, as should have the large number of neon-clad, underage hipsters, but we were happily oblivious.
First opener Wet Paint played the sort of generic, up-tempo rock that openers seem to favor. Not exactly bland, but monotonous enough to understand why they aren't headlining shows themselves. This combined with the lead singer's tendency to be painfully off-key made me quite happy when they kept their set short and made way for second support act Foals, who were much better and received a very warm welcome. Their sharp, angular songs were a good complement to Bloc Party, and their instrumental opener was especially remarkable. Tracks like Cassius and French Open were spot-on, and rivaled Bloc Party's set for quality. It was one of the few times when I would have actually enjoyed a longer set from an opener.
Foals
We knew things were going to go downhill when people started getting pulled out of the crowd two songs into Foals. When you can't survive the opening acts, the concert is going to be intense. (See Doherty, Peter. Rhythm Factory Disaster of '09.) The crowd was already pushing when they came on stage, and opener Halo kicked off a sort of flailing/moshing that continued for the entire gig.
Set List:
Halo
Hunting for Witches
Positive Tension
Talons
Signs
Song for Clay (Disappear Here)
Banquet
Blue Light
Uniform
Two More Years
Mercury
This Modern Love
The Prayer
Like Eating Glass
Helicopter
One Month Off
Price of Gasoline
Ares
Flux
The only breaks in the set were slower tracks Signs and Blue Light, while the rest was really energetic, in part because Kele egged the crowd on the entire time, even returning for the encore in a bunny suit (for Easter). Sound quality and playing were largely good, although a couple of songs suffered from being just a little louder than they needed to be (especially The Prayer and Ares). Mercury was one of the best parts of the set; it's one of my least favorite tracks on the album but live it's frenetic and dramatic and massive
Kele jumpstarts a new fashion trend
Other highlights included the genius transition between Song for Clay and Banquet, straight through from the drums of one into the other, and set closer Flux, which rivals Mercury as the most dramatic song of the nigh with its swooping laser show. It was the perfect end to the gig and left me wanting more even though I was incredibly tired of being stepped on/elbowed/touched by people who were disgustingly sweaty.
Bloc Party is definitely a London band and their music, with its constant references to Bethnal Green and Bishopsgate, really plays to the London crowd. Song for Clay is a particular favorite, with the crowd completely drowning out the band during the pivotal line ("East London is a vampire..."). This gig proved for me more than the rest that there's something really special about the connection between people in England and music. The percentage of people in crowds who know almost every word to every song is remarkable.
The only problem with Bloc Party is that they have so many good songs that some great ones have to be omitted. I was especially sad that they skipped Ion Square, particularly since they played it Saturday night, and On, Kreuzberg, or Waiting for the 7:18 would have been nice additions from the slightly underrepresented Weekend in the City. However, they did play a long and excellent set, so no real complaints.
The verdict? Bloc Party, spectacular. Foals, a very pleasant surprise. Wet Paint...the paint drying jokes write themselves.
Olympia, London, April 12
Headed out to the boondocks of southwest London tonight to see Bloc Party in the surprisingly giant and bright Olympia Hall. The venue was also surprisingly crowded by the time we got there; Val and I had been expecting a much smaller show, and one with less rabid fans, since most London gigs don't seem to attract crowds very early. This kind of enthusiasm should have been a sign of things to come, as should have the large number of neon-clad, underage hipsters, but we were happily oblivious.
First opener Wet Paint played the sort of generic, up-tempo rock that openers seem to favor. Not exactly bland, but monotonous enough to understand why they aren't headlining shows themselves. This combined with the lead singer's tendency to be painfully off-key made me quite happy when they kept their set short and made way for second support act Foals, who were much better and received a very warm welcome. Their sharp, angular songs were a good complement to Bloc Party, and their instrumental opener was especially remarkable. Tracks like Cassius and French Open were spot-on, and rivaled Bloc Party's set for quality. It was one of the few times when I would have actually enjoyed a longer set from an opener.
Foals
We knew things were going to go downhill when people started getting pulled out of the crowd two songs into Foals. When you can't survive the opening acts, the concert is going to be intense. (See Doherty, Peter. Rhythm Factory Disaster of '09.) The crowd was already pushing when they came on stage, and opener Halo kicked off a sort of flailing/moshing that continued for the entire gig.
Set List:
Halo
Hunting for Witches
Positive Tension
Talons
Signs
Song for Clay (Disappear Here)
Banquet
Blue Light
Uniform
Two More Years
Mercury
This Modern Love
The Prayer
Like Eating Glass
Helicopter
One Month Off
Price of Gasoline
Ares
Flux
The only breaks in the set were slower tracks Signs and Blue Light, while the rest was really energetic, in part because Kele egged the crowd on the entire time, even returning for the encore in a bunny suit (for Easter). Sound quality and playing were largely good, although a couple of songs suffered from being just a little louder than they needed to be (especially The Prayer and Ares). Mercury was one of the best parts of the set; it's one of my least favorite tracks on the album but live it's frenetic and dramatic and massive
Kele jumpstarts a new fashion trend
Other highlights included the genius transition between Song for Clay and Banquet, straight through from the drums of one into the other, and set closer Flux, which rivals Mercury as the most dramatic song of the nigh with its swooping laser show. It was the perfect end to the gig and left me wanting more even though I was incredibly tired of being stepped on/elbowed/touched by people who were disgustingly sweaty.
Bloc Party is definitely a London band and their music, with its constant references to Bethnal Green and Bishopsgate, really plays to the London crowd. Song for Clay is a particular favorite, with the crowd completely drowning out the band during the pivotal line ("East London is a vampire..."). This gig proved for me more than the rest that there's something really special about the connection between people in England and music. The percentage of people in crowds who know almost every word to every song is remarkable.
The only problem with Bloc Party is that they have so many good songs that some great ones have to be omitted. I was especially sad that they skipped Ion Square, particularly since they played it Saturday night, and On, Kreuzberg, or Waiting for the 7:18 would have been nice additions from the slightly underrepresented Weekend in the City. However, they did play a long and excellent set, so no real complaints.
The verdict? Bloc Party, spectacular. Foals, a very pleasant surprise. Wet Paint...the paint drying jokes write themselves.
Romance at Short Notice
Dirty Pretty Things
Proud, Camden, April 6
Former DPT members Anthony and Didz kicked off their new club night Younger Than Yesterday with a surprise reunion from DPT itself, followed by a DJ set from Jamie Klaxons (and a random appearance in the crowd from Harry McVeigh of White Lies). Liz and I had some initial skepticism about the evening, when we entered to the sounds of a rather strange mix of 80s and earlier kitsch that suggested questionable things to come. However, I astutely recognized Carl Barat from a side view of his hairstyle and the fact that he was virtually my height. A passing hipster helpfully asked us if DPT had played yet, so we knew to hang around and have some overpriced and low quality drinks (seriously Proud, who stocks your bar?)
The wait was quite short, and DPT appeared to do a (very, very, incredibly) short set. In true DPT style, it was a fairly ramshackle occasion. Gary had approximately 1/8 of a drum kit, Carl's guitar had some sort of malfunction, there were the prerequisite forgotten lyrics, and some really extensive conversations between Carl and Anthony (presumably deciding what song to play next?). However, the band seemed to be having fun on stage together again, which was great to see after their disappointing experience recording their second album, and subsequent breakup. Apparently the breakup was as amicable as they claimed, since they got together again in a shorter time than most bands take between tours.
The super-short set opened with Deadwood, followed by Gin & Milk, Bang Bang You're Dead, and BURMA. DPT seems to think that it's best to play their songs at the maximum possible speed, which makes things feel a bit frantic but also gives them more energy than the album versions. I would have liked to hear a track or two from Romance, but it was also great that they played old favorites. I was particuarly (and pleasantly) surprised to hear BURMA, which doesn't appear on the American release of Waterloo to Anywhere.
Didz
After the show the rest of the band disappeared, but Carl hung about the side of the stage and took pictures with people. Woe betide, my camera was dead so I took one on my phone and it's just a dark blob, but I know the truth. He mumbled at me apologetically and smiled. Well nice.
Proud, Camden, April 6
Former DPT members Anthony and Didz kicked off their new club night Younger Than Yesterday with a surprise reunion from DPT itself, followed by a DJ set from Jamie Klaxons (and a random appearance in the crowd from Harry McVeigh of White Lies). Liz and I had some initial skepticism about the evening, when we entered to the sounds of a rather strange mix of 80s and earlier kitsch that suggested questionable things to come. However, I astutely recognized Carl Barat from a side view of his hairstyle and the fact that he was virtually my height. A passing hipster helpfully asked us if DPT had played yet, so we knew to hang around and have some overpriced and low quality drinks (seriously Proud, who stocks your bar?)
The wait was quite short, and DPT appeared to do a (very, very, incredibly) short set. In true DPT style, it was a fairly ramshackle occasion. Gary had approximately 1/8 of a drum kit, Carl's guitar had some sort of malfunction, there were the prerequisite forgotten lyrics, and some really extensive conversations between Carl and Anthony (presumably deciding what song to play next?). However, the band seemed to be having fun on stage together again, which was great to see after their disappointing experience recording their second album, and subsequent breakup. Apparently the breakup was as amicable as they claimed, since they got together again in a shorter time than most bands take between tours.
The super-short set opened with Deadwood, followed by Gin & Milk, Bang Bang You're Dead, and BURMA. DPT seems to think that it's best to play their songs at the maximum possible speed, which makes things feel a bit frantic but also gives them more energy than the album versions. I would have liked to hear a track or two from Romance, but it was also great that they played old favorites. I was particuarly (and pleasantly) surprised to hear BURMA, which doesn't appear on the American release of Waterloo to Anywhere.
Didz
After the show the rest of the band disappeared, but Carl hung about the side of the stage and took pictures with people. Woe betide, my camera was dead so I took one on my phone and it's just a dark blob, but I know the truth. He mumbled at me apologetically and smiled. Well nice.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
22 Grand Job
The Rakes
Rough Trade East, London
Short in-store tonight for The Rakes, promoting their third album, Klang. The band relocated to Berlin to record, inciting some decent hype by proclaiming the British music scene dead. (Unfairly.) However, the shift did help them return to their old ways and take a step back from the gloom that overcame their sophomore album, Ten New Messages. Klangsounds sharper, witter, and more Rakes-like than the previous release.
The in-store was a fairly quiet affair, less unpleasantly corporate than the HMV ones I've attended, which reflects Rough Trade's status as one of London's indie institutions. It was so low key that I had a chance to browse the shop's eclectic selection of vinyls and ended up snagging the new White Lies single, Farewell to the Fairground. (The b-side is their terrific, tongue-in-cheek, gloom-rock rendition of Kanye West's Love Lockdown. Ten thousand times better than the original.)
The Rakes showed up relatively on time, suits, sweaters, and polos keeping up the vaguely nerdy, buttoned-down aesthetic that characterized their first album's focus on office life. The set, technically tight, was a surprising mix of new and old material, considering most bands play exclusively from the new album they're promoting at in-stores.
Set list:
You're in It
We Danced Together
Retreat
Open Book
That's the Reason
The Woes of the Working Woman
22 Grand Job
Shackleton
Strasburg
The Light from Your Mac
1989
The World Was a Mess But His Hair Was Perfect
The Light from Your Mac is by far my favorite track from Klang, with it's stripped-down verses, it reminds me a lot of The World Was a Mess But His Hair Was Perfect. We Danced Together comes across well live, the slicker sound is less harsh than some of the more angular guitar tracks like Retreat (although that was also a good one). The crowd was most excited (well, there was some nodding, and the one really overenthusiastic guy danced a lot, unfortunately Rough Trade attracts a crowd that is much too cool for dancing, smiling, or moving) for breakout single 22 Grand Job and Retreat, although I was personally happiest that they played The World Was a Mess, which has been my favorite Rakes track since the transcendent version that they played live for a Dior Homme show, which extended the musings on lackluster nightlife to 17 minutes. You're in It was a great opener for the set.
In spite of an acoustically less than ideal setup, The Rakes did well. (Also in spite of the fact that the lead singer didn't blink for the entire set...interesting.) Klang definitely reflects the bleak modernism of Berlin, and is as accurate a portrayal of the city as the band's older albums were of London. The Rakes have always been about boredom, from office jobs to their hometown, but they make it more interesting than anyone else.
Bonus question:
This was on top of their amp and seems to migrate around Rough Trade. Also saw it on an album cover there. Any idea what it is??
Rough Trade East, London
Short in-store tonight for The Rakes, promoting their third album, Klang. The band relocated to Berlin to record, inciting some decent hype by proclaiming the British music scene dead. (Unfairly.) However, the shift did help them return to their old ways and take a step back from the gloom that overcame their sophomore album, Ten New Messages. Klangsounds sharper, witter, and more Rakes-like than the previous release.
The in-store was a fairly quiet affair, less unpleasantly corporate than the HMV ones I've attended, which reflects Rough Trade's status as one of London's indie institutions. It was so low key that I had a chance to browse the shop's eclectic selection of vinyls and ended up snagging the new White Lies single, Farewell to the Fairground. (The b-side is their terrific, tongue-in-cheek, gloom-rock rendition of Kanye West's Love Lockdown. Ten thousand times better than the original.)
The Rakes showed up relatively on time, suits, sweaters, and polos keeping up the vaguely nerdy, buttoned-down aesthetic that characterized their first album's focus on office life. The set, technically tight, was a surprising mix of new and old material, considering most bands play exclusively from the new album they're promoting at in-stores.
Set list:
You're in It
We Danced Together
Retreat
Open Book
That's the Reason
The Woes of the Working Woman
22 Grand Job
Shackleton
Strasburg
The Light from Your Mac
1989
The World Was a Mess But His Hair Was Perfect
The Light from Your Mac is by far my favorite track from Klang, with it's stripped-down verses, it reminds me a lot of The World Was a Mess But His Hair Was Perfect. We Danced Together comes across well live, the slicker sound is less harsh than some of the more angular guitar tracks like Retreat (although that was also a good one). The crowd was most excited (well, there was some nodding, and the one really overenthusiastic guy danced a lot, unfortunately Rough Trade attracts a crowd that is much too cool for dancing, smiling, or moving) for breakout single 22 Grand Job and Retreat, although I was personally happiest that they played The World Was a Mess, which has been my favorite Rakes track since the transcendent version that they played live for a Dior Homme show, which extended the musings on lackluster nightlife to 17 minutes. You're in It was a great opener for the set.
In spite of an acoustically less than ideal setup, The Rakes did well. (Also in spite of the fact that the lead singer didn't blink for the entire set...interesting.) Klang definitely reflects the bleak modernism of Berlin, and is as accurate a portrayal of the city as the band's older albums were of London. The Rakes have always been about boredom, from office jobs to their hometown, but they make it more interesting than anyone else.
Bonus question:
This was on top of their amp and seems to migrate around Rough Trade. Also saw it on an album cover there. Any idea what it is??
Monday, March 9, 2009
Lucid Dreams
Franz Ferdinand
Apollo Hammersmith, London, March 9
Endured the interminable tube journey to Hammersmith tonight for my second round with Franz Ferdinand, touring in support of their first new album since 2005, Tonight: Franz Ferdinand. After a musically solid but disappointingly corporate encounter with them at HMV in January, I was looking forward to seeing the new tracks in their "native environment."
Having snagged a good spot on the Apollo floor (the venue is a large, old theater, with an interestingly tilted standing section from its days as a legitimate theater), we caught the openers, indie blog darlings The Soft Pack. The annoyingly pushy french girls next to us made a remark about their similarity to "Les Libertines." Which was true in terms of coke-induced speed, but not so much in terms of ability to distinguish one song from another. Their short set was upbeat and some of the songs were moderately catchy, but most were too similar (fast paced rhythm guitar, mumbled lyrics) for me to judge whether or not I would actually enjoy an album from them. Still, infinitely better than last week's dreadful Louis XIV experience and brief, so no real complaints.
Franz appeared after a brief interval opened with Dark of the Matinée, which got the crowd moving (they continued to move during the entire sold-out gig; it was great to see such massive enthusiasm for the band after their long hiatus).
Set list (in sort of order, split more in half than as a true encore):
Dark of the Matinée
Twilight Omens
Do You Want To
Turn It On
Bite Hard
Walk Away
Lucid Dreams
Ulysses
Take Me Out
40'
No You Girls
Michael
What She Came For
Outsiders
The Fallen
This Fire
Practically every song got a massive response from the crowd, although the singles and the tracks from their self titled debut were obvious favorites. 40' was one of the best tracks of the night; the sparse guitar intro silenced the crowd entirely, and the band stretched it for a solid minute. Bite Hard has a similarly escalating intro, which I mentioned in my HMV entry. Michael was a surprise favorite, while Twilight Omens seemed to be a bit subduing after the stomping, chanting opener. The Fallen and Walk Away were the best tracks from YCHISMB (which may have failed solely for its abbreviation-demanding name), but the real standouts were Outsiders and What She Came For. Outsiders began with an extended, slinking keyboard solo and ended in an incredible moment that saw all four band members and a fifth person pounding out the conclusion on Paul Thompson's drum kit (short video of this soon). What She Came For concluded with a spectacular guitar duel between Alex Kapranos and Nick McCarthy, one of the classic shots in a Franz gig.
Overall, Franz is innovative on stage and seems to be having a great time. They change up their songs live (much to the frustration of fans attempting to sing along), with Kapranos frequently shifting the cadence of lyrics or shuffling the words entirely. There's a huge amount of obvious musical talent in their performances, and they look fantastic . The best of the show comes from Kapranos, who is undoubtedly the most charismatic frontman I've seen. He makes a great comparison to purposefully awkward Brandon Flowers. Comfortable, sharply dressed, tall and slouchingly thin in a way that pairs perfectly with his louche vocals, he is the center around which the band revolves. (He also, incidentally, appears to have not aged since 1997- a fact the NME even found in pertinent to comment on last month.) However, they seem to have fun on stage together, evidenced in their traditional intros at the end of the gig, and their hands-joined final bow.
Kapranos is also the source of the band's significant literary influences. While the entire band is remarkably literate, judging from their clever and topically diverse blog entries, Kapranos is a sometimes-author (his food book, Soundbites, is a fantastic read), and an obvious lover of literature, including direct references to books as diverse as The Master and Margarita and Ulysses (the title of the lead single from Tonight) in Franz's lyrics. The literary references are more diverse, and so was the crowd who showed up for Franz; I was surrounded a group of friends who had come from France for the gig and a pair of Japanese students, intermingled with the Brits who normally form a much larger percentage of the crowd at the gigs I've been attending. In spite of this, the audience connected strongly with each song; Ulysses was a crowd favorite. Franz, and particularly Kapranos in his stage presence, also embody the hedonistic tendencies of the movement I'm studying. Tracks like The Fallen had the entire crowd singing along; clearly hedonism is connecting with audiences well, perhaps reflecting their own values in modern Britain?
The verdict? One of my favorite gigs in London, and gigs in general. Franz is well worth the trip to Hammersmith.
Apollo Hammersmith, London, March 9
Endured the interminable tube journey to Hammersmith tonight for my second round with Franz Ferdinand, touring in support of their first new album since 2005, Tonight: Franz Ferdinand. After a musically solid but disappointingly corporate encounter with them at HMV in January, I was looking forward to seeing the new tracks in their "native environment."
Having snagged a good spot on the Apollo floor (the venue is a large, old theater, with an interestingly tilted standing section from its days as a legitimate theater), we caught the openers, indie blog darlings The Soft Pack. The annoyingly pushy french girls next to us made a remark about their similarity to "Les Libertines." Which was true in terms of coke-induced speed, but not so much in terms of ability to distinguish one song from another. Their short set was upbeat and some of the songs were moderately catchy, but most were too similar (fast paced rhythm guitar, mumbled lyrics) for me to judge whether or not I would actually enjoy an album from them. Still, infinitely better than last week's dreadful Louis XIV experience and brief, so no real complaints.
Franz appeared after a brief interval opened with Dark of the Matinée, which got the crowd moving (they continued to move during the entire sold-out gig; it was great to see such massive enthusiasm for the band after their long hiatus).
Set list (in sort of order, split more in half than as a true encore):
Dark of the Matinée
Twilight Omens
Do You Want To
Turn It On
Bite Hard
Walk Away
Lucid Dreams
Ulysses
Take Me Out
40'
No You Girls
Michael
What She Came For
Outsiders
The Fallen
This Fire
Practically every song got a massive response from the crowd, although the singles and the tracks from their self titled debut were obvious favorites. 40' was one of the best tracks of the night; the sparse guitar intro silenced the crowd entirely, and the band stretched it for a solid minute. Bite Hard has a similarly escalating intro, which I mentioned in my HMV entry. Michael was a surprise favorite, while Twilight Omens seemed to be a bit subduing after the stomping, chanting opener. The Fallen and Walk Away were the best tracks from YCHISMB (which may have failed solely for its abbreviation-demanding name), but the real standouts were Outsiders and What She Came For. Outsiders began with an extended, slinking keyboard solo and ended in an incredible moment that saw all four band members and a fifth person pounding out the conclusion on Paul Thompson's drum kit (short video of this soon). What She Came For concluded with a spectacular guitar duel between Alex Kapranos and Nick McCarthy, one of the classic shots in a Franz gig.
Overall, Franz is innovative on stage and seems to be having a great time. They change up their songs live (much to the frustration of fans attempting to sing along), with Kapranos frequently shifting the cadence of lyrics or shuffling the words entirely. There's a huge amount of obvious musical talent in their performances, and they look fantastic . The best of the show comes from Kapranos, who is undoubtedly the most charismatic frontman I've seen. He makes a great comparison to purposefully awkward Brandon Flowers. Comfortable, sharply dressed, tall and slouchingly thin in a way that pairs perfectly with his louche vocals, he is the center around which the band revolves. (He also, incidentally, appears to have not aged since 1997- a fact the NME even found in pertinent to comment on last month.) However, they seem to have fun on stage together, evidenced in their traditional intros at the end of the gig, and their hands-joined final bow.
Kapranos is also the source of the band's significant literary influences. While the entire band is remarkably literate, judging from their clever and topically diverse blog entries, Kapranos is a sometimes-author (his food book, Soundbites, is a fantastic read), and an obvious lover of literature, including direct references to books as diverse as The Master and Margarita and Ulysses (the title of the lead single from Tonight) in Franz's lyrics. The literary references are more diverse, and so was the crowd who showed up for Franz; I was surrounded a group of friends who had come from France for the gig and a pair of Japanese students, intermingled with the Brits who normally form a much larger percentage of the crowd at the gigs I've been attending. In spite of this, the audience connected strongly with each song; Ulysses was a crowd favorite. Franz, and particularly Kapranos in his stage presence, also embody the hedonistic tendencies of the movement I'm studying. Tracks like The Fallen had the entire crowd singing along; clearly hedonism is connecting with audiences well, perhaps reflecting their own values in modern Britain?
The verdict? One of my favorite gigs in London, and gigs in general. Franz is well worth the trip to Hammersmith.
Dustland Fairytales
The Killers
O2 London, February 23
I had high hopes for this Killers gig, having seen them a couple of years ago during their Sam's Town tour and thoroughly enjoying it. The O2 arena is a significantly bigger venue than where I saw them in America, but we had a decent spot on the floor, once we managed to navigate around a cluster of absurdly tall people.
I was excited when I found out Louis XIV was the support act for the Day & Age tour. Generally opening acts are complete unknowns that you sort of nod along to for forty five minutes without a lot of enthusiasm, so getting to see a second band that I know (and actually like) was an unexpected bonus.
Well, until they started playing.
Louis XIV was actually worse than most of the opening acts I've seen and known nothing about, mostly because I actually had expectations that they would possess at least some level of talent. Honestly, this is a band that has decent name recognition and has managed to release two albums, the first of which I really enjoy. However, their performance was lackluster, their lead singer can't sing (he performs in a kind of oddly aggressive spoken word that manages to be both boring and jarring), and their music, when played live, lacks the louche, sleazy slinking beats that makes it enjoyable. Sometimes I actually couldn't recognize songs that I know (well known single God Killed the Queen was a prime example of this, and I could tell from the blank looks on the rest of the crowd's faces that I wasn't alone). All in all, an unfortunate start to the gig.
Intermission followed, during which the O2 filled to capacity, even the seats in the rafters that were so bad Lanette commented she would pay "About £5" for them.
The Killers appeared much more promptly than when I last saw them (concerts here seem to be quite prompt, with the exception of Pete(r) Doherty. Their set looked amazing, complete with a dramatic light screen, mirrorball piano, Brandon's new keyboard faced with a giant, lightbulb-studded K (I miss the classic eagle claw-disco ball combo), and some rather random palm trees. The feather epaulette jacket that has been ubiquitous in this album's promotions was also present for the first two songs, at which point Brandon tossed it contemptuously aside.
Opener Spaceman was absolutely massive live, and Brandon seems to have opened up a lot to the crowd and performing since his earlier days. Spaceman was followed by Somebody Told Me, which got a predictably huge crowd response, then Smile Like You Mean It.
After revisiting some classics, B. Flow and Co. dipped back into Day & Age for This Is Your Life and Joy Ride (easily the most camp song in the history of The Killers). The new songs sound sharp live, but lack some of the stadium-filling guitar riffs that made Sam's Town a great tour album.
The rest of the set list (not necessarily in order):
Human
Mr. Brightside
Losing Touch
Bling (Confessions of a King)
Sam's Town
Neon Tiger
Shadowplay
For Reasons Unknown
Read My Mind
All These Things That I've Done
(encore)
A Dustland Fairytale
Bones
Jenny Was A Friend of Mine
When You Were Young
Mr. Brightside was an obvious standout, as was Human, which achieved far more success in the UK than in the US (basically the story of The Killers in general.) Neon Tiger was glammed up with a surprise tiger-striped background, and Read My Mind sounded great live, as always. It's really one of their classic tracks, bringing in Springsteen-esque nostalgia and imagery without being as much of a blatant copy as some of Sam's Town is. Shadowplay, first covered by the band for Antion Corbjin's film Control, was a pleasantly murky addition to the set, and inspired the best of Brandon's jerky, awkward dancing. All These Things was fantastic, although I would have preferred to hear it at the real conclusion of the gig instead of When You Were Young, which is a terrific track but not quite as spectacular. Jenny Was A Friend of Mine was a nice encore surprise, especially when juxtaposed with the sweeping romance of Dustland Fairytale. The live changeup to "she kicked and screamed while I held her throat) in the second chorus makes the song much darker, and IMO should have been on the album version.
Overall, really a great gig. The Killers were in top form, and Brandon has really expanded as a showman, even from the last album, although it's a bit disappointing how little he plays keyboard live these days. He spoke to the crowd far more, and seemed glad to be in England, referring to it as the place where they first achieved success. The stage show was a step up from the last tour as well; the light screen was used more creatively than most bands, especially during All These Things.
The verdict? Louis XIV, abysmal. Killers, great as usual. They really are the heirs to stadium rock in the U2/Bruce vein.
O2 London, February 23
I had high hopes for this Killers gig, having seen them a couple of years ago during their Sam's Town tour and thoroughly enjoying it. The O2 arena is a significantly bigger venue than where I saw them in America, but we had a decent spot on the floor, once we managed to navigate around a cluster of absurdly tall people.
I was excited when I found out Louis XIV was the support act for the Day & Age tour. Generally opening acts are complete unknowns that you sort of nod along to for forty five minutes without a lot of enthusiasm, so getting to see a second band that I know (and actually like) was an unexpected bonus.
Well, until they started playing.
Louis XIV was actually worse than most of the opening acts I've seen and known nothing about, mostly because I actually had expectations that they would possess at least some level of talent. Honestly, this is a band that has decent name recognition and has managed to release two albums, the first of which I really enjoy. However, their performance was lackluster, their lead singer can't sing (he performs in a kind of oddly aggressive spoken word that manages to be both boring and jarring), and their music, when played live, lacks the louche, sleazy slinking beats that makes it enjoyable. Sometimes I actually couldn't recognize songs that I know (well known single God Killed the Queen was a prime example of this, and I could tell from the blank looks on the rest of the crowd's faces that I wasn't alone). All in all, an unfortunate start to the gig.
Intermission followed, during which the O2 filled to capacity, even the seats in the rafters that were so bad Lanette commented she would pay "About £5" for them.
The Killers appeared much more promptly than when I last saw them (concerts here seem to be quite prompt, with the exception of Pete(r) Doherty. Their set looked amazing, complete with a dramatic light screen, mirrorball piano, Brandon's new keyboard faced with a giant, lightbulb-studded K (I miss the classic eagle claw-disco ball combo), and some rather random palm trees. The feather epaulette jacket that has been ubiquitous in this album's promotions was also present for the first two songs, at which point Brandon tossed it contemptuously aside.
Opener Spaceman was absolutely massive live, and Brandon seems to have opened up a lot to the crowd and performing since his earlier days. Spaceman was followed by Somebody Told Me, which got a predictably huge crowd response, then Smile Like You Mean It.
After revisiting some classics, B. Flow and Co. dipped back into Day & Age for This Is Your Life and Joy Ride (easily the most camp song in the history of The Killers). The new songs sound sharp live, but lack some of the stadium-filling guitar riffs that made Sam's Town a great tour album.
The rest of the set list (not necessarily in order):
Human
Mr. Brightside
Losing Touch
Bling (Confessions of a King)
Sam's Town
Neon Tiger
Shadowplay
For Reasons Unknown
Read My Mind
All These Things That I've Done
(encore)
A Dustland Fairytale
Bones
Jenny Was A Friend of Mine
When You Were Young
Mr. Brightside was an obvious standout, as was Human, which achieved far more success in the UK than in the US (basically the story of The Killers in general.) Neon Tiger was glammed up with a surprise tiger-striped background, and Read My Mind sounded great live, as always. It's really one of their classic tracks, bringing in Springsteen-esque nostalgia and imagery without being as much of a blatant copy as some of Sam's Town is. Shadowplay, first covered by the band for Antion Corbjin's film Control, was a pleasantly murky addition to the set, and inspired the best of Brandon's jerky, awkward dancing. All These Things was fantastic, although I would have preferred to hear it at the real conclusion of the gig instead of When You Were Young, which is a terrific track but not quite as spectacular. Jenny Was A Friend of Mine was a nice encore surprise, especially when juxtaposed with the sweeping romance of Dustland Fairytale. The live changeup to "she kicked and screamed while I held her throat) in the second chorus makes the song much darker, and IMO should have been on the album version.
Overall, really a great gig. The Killers were in top form, and Brandon has really expanded as a showman, even from the last album, although it's a bit disappointing how little he plays keyboard live these days. He spoke to the crowd far more, and seemed glad to be in England, referring to it as the place where they first achieved success. The stage show was a step up from the last tour as well; the light screen was used more creatively than most bands, especially during All These Things.
The verdict? Louis XIV, abysmal. Killers, great as usual. They really are the heirs to stadium rock in the U2/Bruce vein.
Friday, February 20, 2009
X-Ray Vision
The Maccabees
matter, London, February 20
The Maccabees club gig at O2 venue matter, with opener V.V. Brown. matter (not capitalized), ended up being a much bigger and slicker venue than I was anticipating, part of the massive O2 complex, where I'll incidentally be seeing The Killers on Monday night. Opener V.V. Brown was a pleasant surprise; some catchy throwback stuff that sounded like an upbeat Amy Winehouse b-side. The crowd was fairly low-key during her set, so we assumed it would be a relaxed gig. The mix of indie kids there for the Maccabees and ordinary club-goers seemed to confirm this.
Oh, how wrong we were.
The crowd went insane as soon as The Maccabees arrived on stage, opening with an up tempo newer track. (I could see the set list from my very front row spot, wish I'd remembered to snap a picture of it for song titles.) My side of the crowd went especially crazy as we were in front of incredibly enthusiastic guitarist Felix White, who really steals the show from the rest of the band with his hyperactive dancing as well as sharp melodies.
The set itself was relatively short, seven or eight songs that skewed largely toward newer material that wasn't on the original release of Colour It In. Tracks from their debut album got the biggest response from the enthusiastic crowd, though. X-Ray, Precious Time, and especially First Love incurred dancing more violent than I've seen since...well, last year's femur-endangering Wombats gig. The Maccabees sound great live, even though the balance of vocals to guitar could have been better at times, and they chose an upbeat set that kept the crowd moving, although a break with a more relaxed song like Toothpaste Kisses might have been in order after the third or fourth time they had to tell the crowd to stop pushing forward. They closed with the single from their upcoming album, which should be a sharp, peppy continuation of Colour It In if the tracks from tonight are representative.
Although the crowds are sometimes a little...too enthusiastic here, it's great to see people really getting into the music. I feel like that's the main difference between the music scenes in America and Britain. People here seem really excited about up and coming bands and usually know the music at gigs, even unreleased tracks. Fans tonight were requesting b-sides and songs that have only made the internet rounds. Americans seem so much more content to be spoon-fed whatever piece of overproduced Rihanna drivel is being pumped out by Island or Warner Brothers that week, but Brits seem incredibly eager to give new bands a chance. It makes sense that most of the iconic bands, from the Beatles up to Oasis, have been British. The love of music comes through in the songs, and the bands themselves seem to be having a much better time than most of the morose or overly corporate, professional acts (ie. Panic at the Disco, Nickelback and their hundred ripoffs), that come from America. It's just a more organic, DIY feel, down to the merch, and it feels great.
matter, London, February 20
The Maccabees club gig at O2 venue matter, with opener V.V. Brown. matter (not capitalized), ended up being a much bigger and slicker venue than I was anticipating, part of the massive O2 complex, where I'll incidentally be seeing The Killers on Monday night. Opener V.V. Brown was a pleasant surprise; some catchy throwback stuff that sounded like an upbeat Amy Winehouse b-side. The crowd was fairly low-key during her set, so we assumed it would be a relaxed gig. The mix of indie kids there for the Maccabees and ordinary club-goers seemed to confirm this.
Oh, how wrong we were.
The crowd went insane as soon as The Maccabees arrived on stage, opening with an up tempo newer track. (I could see the set list from my very front row spot, wish I'd remembered to snap a picture of it for song titles.) My side of the crowd went especially crazy as we were in front of incredibly enthusiastic guitarist Felix White, who really steals the show from the rest of the band with his hyperactive dancing as well as sharp melodies.
The set itself was relatively short, seven or eight songs that skewed largely toward newer material that wasn't on the original release of Colour It In. Tracks from their debut album got the biggest response from the enthusiastic crowd, though. X-Ray, Precious Time, and especially First Love incurred dancing more violent than I've seen since...well, last year's femur-endangering Wombats gig. The Maccabees sound great live, even though the balance of vocals to guitar could have been better at times, and they chose an upbeat set that kept the crowd moving, although a break with a more relaxed song like Toothpaste Kisses might have been in order after the third or fourth time they had to tell the crowd to stop pushing forward. They closed with the single from their upcoming album, which should be a sharp, peppy continuation of Colour It In if the tracks from tonight are representative.
Although the crowds are sometimes a little...too enthusiastic here, it's great to see people really getting into the music. I feel like that's the main difference between the music scenes in America and Britain. People here seem really excited about up and coming bands and usually know the music at gigs, even unreleased tracks. Fans tonight were requesting b-sides and songs that have only made the internet rounds. Americans seem so much more content to be spoon-fed whatever piece of overproduced Rihanna drivel is being pumped out by Island or Warner Brothers that week, but Brits seem incredibly eager to give new bands a chance. It makes sense that most of the iconic bands, from the Beatles up to Oasis, have been British. The love of music comes through in the songs, and the bands themselves seem to be having a much better time than most of the morose or overly corporate, professional acts (ie. Panic at the Disco, Nickelback and their hundred ripoffs), that come from America. It's just a more organic, DIY feel, down to the merch, and it feels great.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Wasted Little DJs
The View
Koko, Camden, February 10
The View (not the TV show, as I had to tell literally everyone that I mentioned the gig to) last night at indie institution Koko. It's an old theater that's been revamped as a club/venue, so there are about four stories that look down on the stage, a pretty decent sized venue for a band that hasn't seen too much hype for its second album. We got in too late to get a space along the rails in the upper floors, so we headed downstairs during the unremarkable and sometimes outrightly bad openers. I didn't bother to remember their names since I really had no interest in listening again.
The crowd was completely chill until The View came on (in spite of an odd assortment of hipsters, old people, 14 year olds starting chants, and a group of women inexplicably sporting light up bunny ears), but when the band started playing they went insane. The unfortunate sort of drink-throwing, uncontrollable need for unnecessary crowd surfing kind of insane. It was great to see an audience really excited for a gig, but after about the sixteenth cup of beer was flung over the crowd, I found myself wishing they would be just a little bit less excited. Did explain why the floor in Koko always looks faintly sticky, even at the beginning of the night.
The View themselves put on a good show, playing a lot of the better known tracks from debut Hats Off to Buskers and mixing in songs from brand new album Which Bitch? I hadn't picked up the second record yet, but they were good enough that I'm planning on getting it. They kicked off the set with some classics like Wasteland (the crowd went nuts for the super-fast rendition), Five Rebeccas, Skag Trendy, and Wasted Little DJs, then broke in the middle with super short, harmonica tinged tune Typical Time, which segued into a short acoustic set. The end of the gig saw Superstar Tradesman and Same Jeans, then an acoustic encore of Oasis' Don't Look Back in Anger (confirming the frequent opinion that The View are Libs impostors--Pete and Carl performed the track at their latest reunion gig).
The View do have a little bit of Libs in them in that they can get a crowd going, and seem to have a fanbase with a high percentage of belligerent young guys. Their music also has the kind of underproduced, loose sound (live and recorded) that the Libs and their various coattail riders prefer.
As for Albion? Maybe a little bit in the atmosphere of the gig. People seemed to be having a genuinely good time, despite the fact that Koko is a relatively corporate venue. (A little too well organized, actual tickets, plastered with NME endorsements). The View seem to encourage this, from what I could understand of their banter. (Being from Dundee, their accents were virtually unintelligible). Lyrically, The View get into class a little bit with tracks like Superstar Tradesman and Posh Boys Can't Play (which was sadly omitted from the set), and the album title "Hats Off to Buskers" suggests something about value for the shambolic, itinerant lifestyle that this movement of bands admires. Not quite the height of Albionesque romanticism, but on the edges. And overwhelmingly influenced by the movement of bands that does revere Albion (Oasis, The Libs, a touch of contemporaries Arctic Monkeys in the snippets of modern nightlife spewed out in fast lyrics).
The verdict? Crazy but enthusiastic crowd, solid playing, a dash of Albion. Great to see a band I've been listening to since I downloaded an elusive live recording about two years ago of Posh Boys.
I'd say pictures are to come, but they didn't turn out especially well. Might toss the Oasis cover video up here if youtube cooperates.
Koko, Camden, February 10
The View (not the TV show, as I had to tell literally everyone that I mentioned the gig to) last night at indie institution Koko. It's an old theater that's been revamped as a club/venue, so there are about four stories that look down on the stage, a pretty decent sized venue for a band that hasn't seen too much hype for its second album. We got in too late to get a space along the rails in the upper floors, so we headed downstairs during the unremarkable and sometimes outrightly bad openers. I didn't bother to remember their names since I really had no interest in listening again.
The crowd was completely chill until The View came on (in spite of an odd assortment of hipsters, old people, 14 year olds starting chants, and a group of women inexplicably sporting light up bunny ears), but when the band started playing they went insane. The unfortunate sort of drink-throwing, uncontrollable need for unnecessary crowd surfing kind of insane. It was great to see an audience really excited for a gig, but after about the sixteenth cup of beer was flung over the crowd, I found myself wishing they would be just a little bit less excited. Did explain why the floor in Koko always looks faintly sticky, even at the beginning of the night.
The View themselves put on a good show, playing a lot of the better known tracks from debut Hats Off to Buskers and mixing in songs from brand new album Which Bitch? I hadn't picked up the second record yet, but they were good enough that I'm planning on getting it. They kicked off the set with some classics like Wasteland (the crowd went nuts for the super-fast rendition), Five Rebeccas, Skag Trendy, and Wasted Little DJs, then broke in the middle with super short, harmonica tinged tune Typical Time, which segued into a short acoustic set. The end of the gig saw Superstar Tradesman and Same Jeans, then an acoustic encore of Oasis' Don't Look Back in Anger (confirming the frequent opinion that The View are Libs impostors--Pete and Carl performed the track at their latest reunion gig).
The View do have a little bit of Libs in them in that they can get a crowd going, and seem to have a fanbase with a high percentage of belligerent young guys. Their music also has the kind of underproduced, loose sound (live and recorded) that the Libs and their various coattail riders prefer.
As for Albion? Maybe a little bit in the atmosphere of the gig. People seemed to be having a genuinely good time, despite the fact that Koko is a relatively corporate venue. (A little too well organized, actual tickets, plastered with NME endorsements). The View seem to encourage this, from what I could understand of their banter. (Being from Dundee, their accents were virtually unintelligible). Lyrically, The View get into class a little bit with tracks like Superstar Tradesman and Posh Boys Can't Play (which was sadly omitted from the set), and the album title "Hats Off to Buskers" suggests something about value for the shambolic, itinerant lifestyle that this movement of bands admires. Not quite the height of Albionesque romanticism, but on the edges. And overwhelmingly influenced by the movement of bands that does revere Albion (Oasis, The Libs, a touch of contemporaries Arctic Monkeys in the snippets of modern nightlife spewed out in fast lyrics).
The verdict? Crazy but enthusiastic crowd, solid playing, a dash of Albion. Great to see a band I've been listening to since I downloaded an elusive live recording about two years ago of Posh Boys.
I'd say pictures are to come, but they didn't turn out especially well. Might toss the Oasis cover video up here if youtube cooperates.
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