Low, Kid Dakota

We were torn away from the balcony bar shortly after the support - Minneapolis two-piece Kid Dakota - began their set. What a surprise treat. Pounding, spiralling rhythms search out the wide open plains of the Royal Festival Hall. Honey and gravel vocals deliver intelligent lyrics that upset my balance a little. Guitarist and frontman Darren Jackson's hypnotic riffs move in amongst the focused drumming of Christopher McGuire for the pregnant set like they were born to play together, with Zak Sally providing occasional bass. In a few hours I'll be buying The West Is The Future and a rather fetching t-shirt.

All that and it's only half eight. A lot more red wine and I'm still wondering if the Royal Festival Hall is the right venue for Low. Having seen them twice at the Union Chapel I've been nervous for weeks that something might be lost in the vastness but I should have known that this band knows what it's doing.

Everything that makes Low one of the most absorbing, essential and comforting bands I know is here, and it is wonderful to hear classics like Laser Beam, but there is more. Much reported since The Great Destroyer's release, Low have let rock. And this is a joy, a release, a reason to love 2005, a cause to shout from the rooftops. Climactic song When I Go Deaf is a swell of raw beauty emerging in heady static and heavy guitar. The song demands that you listen, and when they're finished with it I'm thanking their God for this development. As ever, a revelation.

When: 18/02/05
Who: Low, Kid Dakota
Where: Royal Festival Hall
Review by: Jane Rich
Pitchfork reviews: Low, Kid Dakota

The Dears

They’ve been garnering a fair amount of attention recently but from where I was standing, support act Ambulance Ltd. were, in a word, YAWN. The most unremarkable bit of indie alt-country I’ve tossed back tequilas to in a while. What else is a girl gonna do?

Conversely, there is an enjoyable sense of drama as The Dears take to the stage. Having never even heard them before, my first impression of this collective is that they are not unlike those weird polygamous families from Utah you read about from time to time. Murray Lightburn plays the role of Father Dear and lords it over a stage-worth of devotees and moody teenagers (Natalia Yanchak). And this musical family has had its share of fall-outs and shame, with Murray’s self-confessed battle with booze, key figures storming out of the band and so on. It must have looked at times like they would never get here.

No wonder Murray opens by telling us that this is ‘a momentous night’. He goes on to thank us for sharing it with him ‘from here’ (points to his head), ‘here’ (thumps his heart) ‘… and here’ (grabs his crotch). By this point the crowd is more than ready for a show. After a difficult start with synths failing, sound problems and the like, The Dears find their stride. I am soon giddy from epic 10-minute orchestral adventures, which seem to take the contents of the Electric Ballroom and lift them up before spiralling us back down again. I am unsurprised to read a few days later that Murray thinks of The Dears as a 'quest for God'. I'm not sure that they found Him tonight, but things certainly got intense from time to time, supported by a dazzling light show. By the time the spectacle draws to a close, the crowd is won over and Murray is on intimate terms with a bottle of champagne. The night has been deemed a success by all parties.

When: 1/02/05
Who: The Dears
Where: Electric Ballroom
Review by: Jane Rich
Pitchfork reviews: The Dears