cellular fever

Modest Mouse - how was it for you?

2006-11-21T19:00:00.000+01:00

At around this time (I'm future posting) a whole bunch of people will be getting very excited and very beered up for Modest Mouse's sold out gig at KOKO. Tickets are going in the £100s on eBay. I haven't got one. And even if I did, I wouldn't be able to go. Sometimes life is cruel. Is there anyone out there who could tell me about this show? I know it's going to be hot. Their new material is hot. They are hot. Please comment.

Venue: KOKO
Band websites: Modest Mouse
Myspace: Modest Mouse (myspace)
Pitchfork reviews:
Good News for People Who Love Bad News

A Hawk and a Hacksaw, almost Beirut, Kid Harpoon

2006-11-12T19:30:00.000+01:00

'Zach Condon of Beirut is unable to perform tonight due to unfortunate personal circumstances'. This was a pretty big disappointment and we wish Zach well. However the night was far from lost. Oh no.

Energetic Kid Harpoon endeared himself to the warm crowd, who already had a good-humoured family atmosphere going on. (Maybe that's what Beirut fans are like in the face of collective misfortune.) His lyrics - 'Follow me my pretty things / There's an evil needle in this haystack' - had a (in Russell Brand speak) childlike purity. A skilled acoustic guitarist.

Then A Hawk and a Hacksaw - Jeremy Barnes (drummer from Neutral Milk Hotel) and Heather Trost (violin). Well, wow. Pretty early on I decided this was what The Pixies meant by planet of sound. Between Heather's violin and Jeremy's: accordion, jangle hat with drumstick for hitting the snare, foot mastery of the remaining drum kit and solemnly belted-out choruses, it was a riotous swelling of gypsy-like noise from the word go. After a completely absorbing set, with a very moving highlight in Portlandtown, the rest of Beirut crammed onto the stage with AHAAH for a half hour or more, relieving Jeremy at the drums and bringing tambourine, cello, guitar, oboe, lusty voices and organised mayhem. For the encore the cute one in the green jumper announced something like 'A Hawk and a Hacksaw are a band of the people so we're gonna come and sing with the people' and down they came (admittedly, not far) and bashed their instruments and wailed their choruses with us. Now I can't imagine a time... startled as I was when I first heard it... before Beirut and AHAAH brought us the wonder of the Balkan orchestra.

Venue: The Luminaire
Band websites: A Hawk and a Hacksaw
Myspace: A Hawk and a Hacksaw (myspace), Kid Harpoon (myspace)
Pitchfork reviews:
Gulag Orkestar (Beirut)
Darkness at Noon (A Hawk and a Hacksaw)

The Young Knives, The Grates

2006-10-30T20:00:00.000+01:00

I don't know what it is but every time I go to the Astoria I see Northern lads with a debut album and lashings of banter. First the 22-20s (disappointing, less banter), then the Futureheads (excellent), now the Young Knives (as good with more texture to their sound, more room to grow and a science nerd bassist callled the House of Lords).

It was awesome. Support came from Australian trio The Grates, with lead singer Patience Hodgson - a rough-around-edges KarenO-a-like - pogoing across the stage, howling like a dog, smothering boys in her white tulle skirt and swirling a yellow ribbon. While still managing to belt out promising stuff. A suitable warm-up for The Young Knives who were spectacular, opening with cracker Part Timer. I may have been a bit delirious with fever, but with all the Strokes and Pixies influences, the throbbing mosh pit and the charged performances (a big night for both bands) it was enough to get a bit carried away on.

Venue: Astoria
Band websites: The Young Knives, The Grates
Myspace: The Young Knives (myspace), The Grates (myspace)
Pitchfork reviews:
Voices of Animals and Men (The Young Knives)
Gravity Won't Get You High (The Grates)

Sparklehorse

2006-10-27T20:00:00.000+01:00

The Queen Elizabeth Hall is the best place for big, artistic personalities. The last one I saw here was Regina Spektor and before that Kiki (and Herb). Tonight Mark Linkous was in tweed, looking more together than at any gigs I've been to before (a few). The stage was gorgeous, theatrical in a high school play kind of way and loaded with instruments in wooden cases. Flowers on the mike stand. Two encores for the hungry crowd, who were more than satisfied by this exceptional outing. Beauties like Spirit Ditch, Homecoming Queen, Sad & Beautiful World and Gold Day nuzzled up to Hammering the Cramps, Dog Door and new tracks which threatened to splinter the floorboards. Some great female vocals from a willowy figure in the lineup (introduced with pride as his new rock band) and a sharper focus to the always beautiful melancholia - like Linkous has grabbed you by the balls and might even look you in the eye. A treat.

Venue: Queen Elizabeth Hall
Band website: Sparklehorse
Myspace: Sparklehorse (myspace)
Pitchfork review: Dreamt for Light Years in the Belly of a Mountain

Camera Obscura

2006-10-18T19:00:00.000+01:00

I love Camera Obscura but this was disappointing. A severe lack of stage presence. And it was a small venue, it should have been perfect for them. Sweet and humble is fine and nice boys and girls, but you can do better than that! The songs deserve it. PLEASE TRY HARDER. Razzle Dazzle Rose was a total exception with a swelling coda and heart-stirring brass, proving there's a big future for them in performance if they want it. Country Mile good, although nothing like as goosebumpy as it could be. Sensed nerves. Hope to bring a better report next time.

Band: Camera Obscura, Myspace (Camera Obscura)
Venue: Scala
Pitchfork review: Let's Get Out of This Country

Mountain Goats

2006-08-03T20:00:00.000+01:00

Am I the only person who doesn't like John Darnielle? I do like some of his songs, but on the whole I find him a bit creepy. Anyway, this was a good gig, a special night for fans. I love the view from the back of this room, and the layout. It's tiny - it's like the Barfly but smaller, better and less crammed. He played a lot of new material but took some requests and chatted with the crowd during and after the gig. I wish I could summon up more enthusiasm but he's not for me.

Venue: Old Blue Last (upstairs)
Band website: The Mountain Goats
Myspace: The Mountain Goats (myspace)
Pitchfork review: Get Lonely

Spoon, New Pornographers

2006-05-16T20:30:00.000+01:00

Unsurprisingly KOKO was heaving, on all four levels. The best place to be as always, downstairs in the throng. Spoon were excellent - all hypnotic drum rhythms, resounding bass and heavy chords on the keys. With hits from Gimme Fiction like I Turn My Camera On and Sister Jack I was an immediate fan. Not to mention their sinewy lead singer and we've-been-doing-this-for-years-and-we're-from-Austin-Texas performance. Jake (fan) was mesmerised.

And then the New Pornographers. This whole night was pornography, of the aural kind. So spectacular were NP that they eclipsed what on any other occasion would have been a hugely satisfying headline. Carl Newman heads up this Canadian collective - formed in '97 - which is now eight musicians strong. He usually shares front-stage with Neko Case, but she is off on solo things and his long-lost niece, Kathryn Calder, has stepped up to lead vocals (female) and keys. And my, does she do the job. Ignorant of this, I assumed they's been in partnership for years and that some of the songs were hers, such was the rapport between them and their voices.

Oh how I love the NP's poppy ('shooo wa-wa-wa' often a suitable substitute if you don't know the words), 80s, theatrical, off-beat, big style thang. Harmonies are divine and three-part, voices clear and strong and songs multi-faceted (read two choruses) and full of open eyes and humour. Twin Cinema - their third and latest album - is so good it's hard to pick out favourites from tonight's set but Use It, The Bleeding Heart Show, Sing Me Spanish Techno, Star Bodies and the title track all elicited much stamping / screaming / whooping / whistling. A word for the hugely talented rhythm section - the heights this band reaches owe a great deal to them. A residing image = the drummer's stick spinning above his head as things peak. Awesome. I was transported.

Venue: KOKO
Band websites: Spoon, New Pornographers
Myspace: Spoon (myspace), New Pornographers (myspace)
Pitchfork reviews:
Gimme Fiction (Spoon)
Twin Cinema (New Pornographers)

The Spinto Band

2006-03-03T21:00:00.000+01:00

Remember that day when you woke up thinking it was a school day but it was Saturday and the start of a three week holiday and your mum said Get up we're off to the beach cottage and handed you a fishing rod, a puppy, a week's supply of ice cream and your best friend to take along? Well this gig was more fun. This might be the funnest gig I've ever been to. Jump-up-and-down, forget you're about to turn 30, make a complete ass of yourself, fun. I've never had happy gas but I bet it feels like this.

The vital statistics: five smart, funny teenage boys (song titles include Direct To Helmet and Crack The Whip) and twelve great pop tunes (catchy refrains like 'Oh Mandy! Oh Man-dee-ee-ee!). Oh how I would have swooned, say, 15 years ago. Tonight's gig opened with the exhilarating So Kind, Stacey and maintained dangerous energy levels right the way through. The real treat though was the encore - a glorious cover of I Think We're Alone Now followed by one of the best things I've ever seen on stage - a row of teenage boys and some tall guy in an English hunting jacket and goggles doing Everybody Walk The Dinosaur (with actions). Yeah!

Venue: Barfly
Band website: Spinto Band
Myspace: Spinto Band
Pitchfork review: Nice and Nicely Done

Kiki and Herb

2005-12-22T20:00:00.000+01:00

The gorgeous Queen Elizabeth Hall is the perfect place to see this Christmas wonder. All hail Kiki - the washed-up, vitriolic, alcoholic drag queen - and Herb, her dutiful accompanist. This pair of gorgeous NY gay men have been spreading crazy tales - Kiki and Herb are destined to live forever following an incident involving Jesus' afterbirth and a cow called Daisy - and anarchic covers since the early nineties 'as a sort of freak show for the post-modern set'. Crown of Love (The Arcade Fire) was a particular highlight. Do not miss these two if you can help it.

Venue: Queen Elizabeth Hall
Artist website: Kiki and Herb
Myspace: Kiki and Herb

The Bishops

2005-12-21T15:12:00.000+01:00

Introducing a pair of mop-haired twins - and their best mate on drums - straight out of the 60s. In Beatles suits with skinny ties, bobbing around to their bouncy two-and-a-half-minute pop tunes with sweet harmonies and spiky riffs, we're-going-mad! guitar solos and fixed Everly Brothers smiles. As limited as pastiche is, but fun. Listen to single 'I Don't Really Know What To Say' on their website.

Venue: The Social
Band website: The Bishops
Myspace: The Bishops

Dirty Three

2005-10-06T21:00:00.000+01:00

First, a few words for anyone who hasn't heard of Dirty Three. They are an Australian instrumental rock trio - Warren Ellis (violin), Mick Turner (guitar) and Jim White (drums). So no vocals to be found here, but not a moment of musical indulgence either. This band tells stories through their music, which is hypnotic, beautiful, angry, violent, delicate, impassioned, human. Journeys play out on fiddle, drums, guitar and occasionally digeridoo and evoke nostalgia, melancholy and the land of their country.

I spot Warren before the gig in the downstairs bar - huddled at a table with some other guys. There is a restless energy at the table, a sense of gravity and purpose as well as a sense that they are passing through. In comparison the rest of us seem lacklustre. I am already mesmerised.

Resplendent with wild hair and jet black beard ('When in France', he tells us), Warren later beats his way through the crowd, yelling for passage with his violin case held high over his head. The atmosphere is intimate, with affectionate heckling from the many Australians. He'll play some new songs and then take orders, he tells us. Before long the Barfly is hanging on every scratchy note as the three musicians weave their way through our imaginations. The songs are carefully plotted journeys, and you sense that they are never the same every time, that the players are living through them as intensely as they ever did. I've been listening to Dirty Three for some time, but to see these songs unfold live is an entirely different experience. I couldn't recommend it more highly.

When: 6/10/05
Where: Barfly, London
Who: Dirty Three
Review by: Jane Rich
Pitchfork reviews: Dirty Three

Malcolm Middleton, Absentee

2005-10-03T20:00:00.000+01:00

Absentee was an unexpected treat. I see now that they regularly support The Magic Numbers and played The Green Man Festival in August but I hadn't heard of them. My first assumption was that they were American, with the lead's bottom-of-the-beer-glass baritone (reminiscent of The Handsome Family's Brett Sparks), the girl's off-key 'doo doos' and their warm alt-coutry sound. They are not, but have been called the UK's answer to My Morning Jacket. Definitely one to watch - have a listen to Rainy Days Swimming.

Malcolm Middleton was miserable (of course). He was happiest when his backing band left the stage and he sat alone on a stool and sang moving, miserable songs into the crowd. Self pity is an ever-circling vulture to the carcass of depression though (what a metaphor!) and MM does fall prey to it from time to time. Only to be taken in small doses, preferably when low. Unsurprisingly it didn't register with Jake at all, who doesn't do brooding, introspective, woe-is-me moody.

When: 3/10/05
Where: London Barfly
Who: Malcolm Middleton, Absentee
Review by: Jane Rich
Pitchfork reviews: Absentee

Stylish Riots

2005-08-04T20:00:00.000+01:00

This is a well named night - you can't move for boys in straw hats and braces and at 6 quid for 6 bands it's definitely a riot. The Rocks were okay but run of the mill, The Secret Hairdresser was interesting and very strong vocally (calling to mind Sons And Daughters), YETI I confess I missed even though Never Lose Your Sense Of Wonder is one of my favourite songs at the moment and New Rhodes were brilliant as ever. Hurrah. Failed to see Art Brut who were also playing because I had to go home and sleep.

When: 4/08/05
Who: The Rocks, The Secret Hairdresser, YETI, New Rhodes
Where: Stylish Riots at KOKO
Review by: Jane Rich

The Raveonettes

2005-07-17T01:00:00.000+01:00

So I finally got to FROG - a club night with a very long queue on the Charing Cross Road - and came face to face with Guy McKnight from the 80's Matchbox Disaster within minutes. He yelled in my face which I think was supposed to scare me, and did a little. We then had a nice friendly chat at a table by the bar while I waited for my escort and familiarised myself with my surroundings. Young And Lost? Ten years ago definitely. Now just a little disoriented and thirsty. A two-pound whiskey and coke later and I make my way downstairs to join the gathering crowd.

1am is the perfect slot for The Raveonettes, who churn out a distinctly dark shade of what you could call 50s-saturated europop. The high ceilings of the venue heighten the drama (as well as the already high reverb levels). The set is a treat - loaded with catchy riffs, bubblegum lyrics, scratchy guitar feedback and boy-girl harmonies - and a steady stream of stage-divers expresses our obvious enthusiasm. My Boyfriend’s Back (originally by 60s girl-group The Angels) is a definite highlight.

When Wagner eventually saunters on to the dancefloor sometime later there is visible swooning. It is a shame that the DJ goes on to turn things techno... The trippy, dancey, slowed-up version of Mr Brightside that follows is exactly the opposite kind of dark from The Raveonettes. I can hear pine forests in their chewy doo-wap.

When: 15/07/05
Who: The Raveonettes
Where: FROG
Review by: Jane Rich
Pitchfork reviews: The Raveonettes

Handbags at Dawn

2005-06-10T21:00:00.000+01:00

One of the band members is a dear friend, or I wouldn't be found dead in this hole. Firstly it's been sanitised in the worst possible way - horrible laminate flooring, cheap leather sofas, garish things in frames on the walls. Shudder. Second, the service is unspeakably shite. Wait for this. I order a large round and politely proffer my card once it's all poured. Look of disgust. They don't take cards. No matter. We enquire as to the nearest cash machine and a few minutes later one of the party returns with bulging pockets. Only to find that they have Thrown. Away. Our. Drinks. Thrown them away! It's clear whose really losing out here but even so, one is enraged.

Handbags at Dawn can't come on too soon (there is some dreadful caterwauling emanating from the stage when we arrive). Thankfully they make it all worth it. Try and imagine this: four gay boys (muscly Irish lead, drummer in pink mascara, skinny bassist who can't keep his shirt on, coy guitarist) playing what they call fierce ranty folk-punk. Sure is fierce, definitely ranty. Highlights include I'm the Fuckin' Geezer (complete with Cockney accent), Are You Lookin' At My Missus and I Like Piggybacks Too! - all available on their site, I urge you to listen. The true revelation though has to be the curtain closer, which involves the Ten Ton Pussy Choir (a bunch of bosomy girls in 40s make-up) joining the band for a rendition of He's Got The Whole World In His Hands. By about chorus two we're all invited up. Bonkers stuff. Marvellous.

When: 10/06/05
Who: Handbags at Dawn
Where: Archway Tavern
Review by: Jane Rich

Dogs, Komakino, The Casuals

2005-06-02T21:00:00.000+01:00

It's obvious on approach that this is going to be one of the coolest gigs of the year so far. Maybe it's the East End location; more likely it's the bands. The Casuals and Komakino are also up tonight. Anyway, the scene is out in force. If there are any editors around, they're with Artrocker, not the NME. Hats are as plentiful as band members, and they look lived in rather than picked up in H&M two hours ago. It's also nice and warm. A perfect night for the steamy Dogs.

We abandon The Casuals after a few strangled songs, partly because it's so damn hot and crowded, but also because they're a bit annoying, in the way a little brother is a bit annoying. Check out their homepage and you might get the feeling. This means we get too comfy in the bar and miss Komakino. A shame, but all is not lost as Dogs are superb. Apologies for the shameless word trickery but they have a rabid energy, sweating their way through the set. Frontman Johnny is obviously a truth-teller, spitting out lines like 'I liked you better when you liked me better' and 'My brain seems tuned to a different station' (check out the brilliant video for the latter - their best song). The delivery is as brutal as the honesty and we love it. Can't wait for next time.

When: 2/06/05
Who: Dogs, Komakino, The Casuals
Where: Rhythm Factory
Review by: Jane Rich

The Barbs

2005-05-19T21:00:00.000+01:00

Another case of the headline act who are friends of friends being a bit unchallenging, but an unexpected treat in the form of the support. The Barbs are really a Pixies tribute band, although they are much better than that sounds. Their music is richly influenced but good enough to warrant its own mention in the indie rock hall-of-fame, and their live act is great fun - moody, swaggerish, bright red lipstick and hair covering the face kind of thing (in Amy's case at least). I am sufficiently over-excited to rush backstage when they're done and freestyle my first interview, nodding furiously while Tim talks about some gig in Asia? being their best ever gig. Needless to say I can't read a thing I've written the next day (not much of a music journalist after all) but I will be evangelising for at least a week.

When: 19/05/05
Who: The Barbs
Where: Upstairs at the Garage
Review by: Jane Rich

The Futureheads

2005-05-16T21:00:00.000+01:00

Last time I was at the Astoria I was newly single and reluctantly on my ace, questioning what was so wrong with me and the course my life had taken that I had no one to accompany me. On that visit the newish Northern band showcasing their debut album (22-20s) were, despite much industry hype, unconvincing. Probably a little like my I'm cool, I always go places on my own veneer.

This time I am with the perfect gig partner and most divine man on earth, and the newish Northern band showcasing their debut album are, despite industry indifference, on fire. Probably a little like the two fans bouncing around front left. The Futureheads are full of energy, tight as John Travolta's trousers, charismatic, funny, a bit odd in the best way and very talented, storming through one great song after another (lots of clips on their site). And this time I leave the building disappointed that it's over.

When: 16/05/05
Who: The Futureheads
Where: London Astoria
Review by: Jane Rich
Pitchfork reviews: The Futureheads

Paper Radio, Evermore

2005-05-09T21:00:00.000+01:00

I'm here to see Aussie emorockers Paper Radio, who I know in advance are a bit meatandU2veg for me. Friends of friends... Luckily for me however, I am in for a surprise treat in the form of Evermore: three brothers from New Zealand. Although cut from the same musical cloth (Joshua Tree is definitely on their best albums of all time list), they are immediately arresting.

I think this has a lot to do with their onstage presence - blood seems to add potency. Think of the Kings of Leon, or partnerships like Mick and Keith who effectively became brothers. The Oldest, Jon (lead vocals and guitar), is clearly at the helm of this ship and steers the set with quiet authority. The songs are rocking, moody, melodic, clean-cut and winning (plenty of tunes on their site, take a listen). Reedy middle brother Peter adds some glamour to the outfit, falling about over his keyboards like a heroin junkie. Young Dann on drums follows brother Jon meticulously, bringing songs to enthusiastic climaxes and artful wind-downs.

I spend Paper Radio's set chewing the fat with Dann who is sporting a blues hat and is remarkably balanced for a 17-year-old on the touring circuit. He offers to put me plus one on the door for their gig at the Marquee the next night and I am more than happy to accept. I have someone in mind for a gig partner.

When: 9/05/05
Who: Evermore, Paper Radio
Where: Borderline
Review by: Jane Rich

Bloc Party Silent Alarm

2005-05-01T23:52:00.000+01:00

Having listened to Bloc Party playing tonight’s live hour on Xfm, I thought I’d pen a few words about their debut. Not from sheer inspiration mind you – the set was terrible – but the album most certainly is not. I half wondered if they were pissed, they were so all over the show.

Anyway, here’s one more piece to add to the editorial plethora that followed the album's release in March. Silent Alarm is a perfect album. A perfect album to fall in love to, a – some would say overly – perfect production, but more than anything a perfect 49 minutes. Many disagree, complaining of slack and excess, but listening through, I’m reminded of various adolescent raptures over the song progression of early R.E.M. albums (Document, Life’s Rich Pageant, Green). There are certain records that I wouldn’t dare jump around on, let alone condemn to an iPod shuffle. To be honest I couldn’t be getting on with one of those.

I’m not going to bother with influences and context etc. – you’ve heard it all already anyway. Like the album, I’m going straight in. Like Eating Glass is a classic opener, stamping its foot down on your eardrums. It prepares you for what will be a record’s worth of superb percussion; one of Silent Alarm’s most exciting elements. And from here onwards, intelligent lyrics take up residence in your head in an altogether different way from the word fare of most of the opposition. An abrupt end to this homage to childhood misery and, well then, what do we have here? Ladies and gentlemen, the dance floor track of the year – as any respectable indie kid will eagerly tell you. The thrilling dropped beat of Helicopter’s chorus earns it that title, no question. We then buzz through Positive Tension and some of the album’s best samples. Banquet picks things up with a lovely jerky rhythm – and yes it wanders, but it wanders well – before dropping us off at Blue Light. Ah, the elegant simplicity of the percussion, guitar tight and pretty; this song is love in light muslin summer dresses.

A lovely piece of positioning, She’s Hearing Voices then introduces us to the socio-political conscience of this band. I have no idea what their intentions were with this track but it insists like a manifesto and has me thinking about society and mental illness. More of the same on This Modern Love, a guide to surviving relationships in the nasty noughties. If love is being lost in a forest, I like it. And you’ll pay for me? Anytime? Skip to easily the best track on this album – The Pioneers. Momentum is at its peak here - the drum kit simmers and scorches and vocals reach new heights. ‘We promised the world we’d tame it, what were we hoping for?’ It’s the fastest three and a half minutes outside of the desperate closing moments of a game when whoever you support in the Premiership is losing. Breathe in, breathe out… and we’re straight into equally aggressive Price Of Gasoline. Did I mention their socio-political conscience?

Cue some relief, of pace if nothing else, in the form of So Here We Are. Hold someone - the pretty melody and childish bassline demand it. ‘I figured it out.’ Luno recalls the domestic themes of the album’s opening and walks you straight into the last two songs, Plans and Compliments. This smart band starts cooling you off without you even realising it. ‘Kiss me before it all gets complicated.’ The moody keyboard and trancey drum samples of ‘Compliments’ still the heartbeat to about the right pace for you to stumble back into your everyday life. A little bit changed, a little bit addicted. I wonder how many reviews have been titled ‘Something glorious’? Not enough.

Album release date: 22/03/05
Who: Bloc Party
Review: Jane Rich
Pitchfork review: Bloc Party

Big Idea

2005-04-04T19:00:00.000+01:00

This is the second time I've seen this hugely impressive jazz-steeped hip-hop foursome from Wentworth, Durban, and the experience has been exhilarating. Here are four fellas who've not even got their demo down yet (in the studio as I write) but are more accomplished than most of the new bands I've seen touting their debut albums of late. Maybe there's something to be said for the slow pace of Souf Efrika.

Tonight they are at the Centre For Jazz and Comtemporary Music at the University of Natal, Durban. If that sounds like a mouthful, it's nothing like the torrent that streams from the passionate frontman on rhymes. An intriguing character, Quincy sports a spectacular physique and a beautiful face behind comfortingly lived-in dreads. In this case though, while it certainly can't hurt, Big Idea don't need their great look. The music is enough, and this demanding, somewhat senior crowd of jazz afficianados - led by host Mr Darius Brubeck - certainly don't fail to recognise the quality, or the heart, of what they're hearing. The small smoky room soon feels like a family.

They are joined tonight by Pakie, a talented percussionist who slaps his drums and shakes an array of instruments with purpose and intuition. Is it wrong that I should be surprised to see an unsigned band collaborate with such maturity and humility? But then before I found out how far down the road they were (or weren't), I was sure that A'we! A'we! had to be presently dominating the South African airwaves. For the second time, I follow its artful verses to the call-to-arms chorus as helplessly as if Quincy were a modern day Pied Piper. With a grace and confidence that I have not seen in many frontmen, he raps about where he is from - 'I know Durban like the back of my hand' - and how it has shaped him. Supported by superb keyboardist David Smith, skilled bassist 'Mr Musgrave', and solid drummer Gareth Gale, he has an audience that can know little of what he is rhyming about completely transfixed.

Aware of time constraints on the venue, we are expecting the other potential single - What kind? What kind? - to be the curtain closer. Make no mistake, this is a band with a social conscience and here Quincy employs a colloquialism to express his incredulity at attitudes he's confronted, with a large helping of humour and no hint of bitterness. I can't believe my luck therefore when they launch softly into something that is obviously still so new it feels uncomfortably private. This is easily their most beautiful song of the night but it is earned from tragedy and in this small room in my hometown, watching Quincy struggle with some of the lyrics is not an easy thing. 'I always knew I'd die a violent death, I knew from when I was three, But this can't be right, Leave her, please, just take me'. He has imagined himself into the mind of a friend as he was being murdered, his girlfriend raped and facing the same fate. It is not an unfamiliar story.

While I am no regular to the South African music scene, I sense that there is something new happening with this band and judging by the crowd's reaction and enthusiastic reviews heralding the 'loudest voice out of Durban’s hip-hop youth culture', I'm not alone. Bits of this heavenly, tragic place are being sewn up in Quincy's rhymes and my biggest idea is that they get heard as far afield as possible.

When: 4/04/05
Who: Big Idea
Where: Centre For Jazz and Comtemporary Music, Durban
Review: Jane Rich

R.E.M. (Durban)

2005-03-08T21:00:00.000+01:00

This was always going to be a weird one. R.E.M. were the one thing that made me feel less shackled to this town at a time when I irrevocably was. Out Of Time came along at the same point as my self consciousness, which brought with it a painful realisation that Durban was so not cool, it didn't even qualify as cool by being uncool enough – you know like those crazy little American towns do. It was just a place you had to escape. Yet here I was seeing a band I'd existed inside for the best part of 10 years, for the first time, in this setting. Strangely fitting you might argue. As was the rain. Man did it piss down.

The Absa Stadium, formerly known as King's Park, has a capacity of 52,000 and dear old Durbs managed to muster 11,000 for our one night in their presence (they sold out two nights in Cape Town and Johannesburg). A mixed crowd, producing its ugliest colours when a bloke behind me yelled 'Wrong continent, Michael!' after the singer had completed the duo he calls his State of the Union address - I Wanted To Be Wrong followed by Final Straw. It makes you delight in the existence of the word 'buffoon'.

But the story is by no means bleak. This Tuesday night in Durban, South Africa, R.E.M. did what any sane person would do under the circumstances. They drank. And we reaped the benefits. 'We were just getting fucked backstage and … we're gonna play a lot more than we expected tonight!' And did they. The bones of the worldwide Around The Sun tour set was always going to make for a spectacular night but just five songs in (not counting the sparkling rendition of Did You Ever Feel The Rain which gained Michael the crowd's unadulterated adoration) we were treated to Maps And Legends – 'This is one of our favourite songs, we've only played it four times' – recorded in McCabe's Guitar Shop in California, 1987. We then slid and groaned our way through the darkly brilliant High Speed Train, which was supported by maybe the best display of lighting in what was a superb night visually.

On that note, Mr Stipe is looking more spectacular - more in, and out, of his own skin - more the rock star, than ever before. The painted Zorro-like mask across the top of his face seems like a direct challenge to today's young rockers, who have just caught onto his understanding of the power of eyeliner.

Electrolite set the scene for a trio of tracks which can be called nothing other than epic. I may have been the only one who knew what was coming when I saw that loudhailer, but it made it all the sweeter. As did the positioning of Stipe's most burning personal manifesto, Walk Unafraid, amongst distinct crowd pleasers.

Cue the encore. Three songs in we're sticking to the plan but Michael is reaching for his beer with more and more regularity. He asks someone in the crowd to raise that banner he's seen earlier. It's sodden and crumpled but it's soon onscreen. Find The River. 'We haven't played this for years but we're going to play it today.' I didn't know whether to open my eyes, or close them. I can't remember what I settled on. A rocking tune from Fables Of The Reconstruction - 'We thought backstage it's probably not a good idea to play this next song, but then we thought, to hell with it!' - brought us to the electrifying I'm Gonna DJ (at the end of the world); the one that just wouldn't fit on Around The Sun. I hope it never fits anywhere. By the time they'd closed with Man On The Moon and thanked us for the banner, the rain, the night, I realised it may be Durban, but I am in the place where I should be.

Set List

I Took Your Name
Bad Day
Animal
Boy In The Well
Maps And Legends
High Speed Train
The Great Beyond
The Outsiders
Electrolite
Undertow
Leaving New York
Orange Crush
I Wanted To Be Wrong
Final Straw
Imitation Of Life
The One I Love
Walk Unafraid
Losing my Religion

Encore:
What's The Frequency, Kenneth?
Everybody Hurts
Drive
Find The River
Life And How To Live It
I'm Gonna DJ
Man On The Moon

Low, Kid Dakota

2005-02-18T20:00:00.000+01:00

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

2005-02-01T21:00:00.000+01:00

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

Bright Eyes I’m Wide Awake It's Morning

2005-01-27T10:00:00.000+01:00

It is telling that the intelligent reviews posted on amazon since Conor Oberst released his latest two albums are all on the Digital Ash In A Digital Urn page. It’s the progressive album of the two apparently, the departure from years' worth of beautiful acoustic ditties that if I’d been around for I might be writing about too. Fact is, I’m a new listener (where was I during his teenage years? I bet they were graceful) so I’m quite happy with this one for now and sense that it is rather a lovely album to be starting a lifelong appreciation with. In fact, its gushing amazon posts are positively heart-warming, with openings like ‘Its hard to imagine that a person who is only 24 can have so emotion.’

Well yes, he certainly has plenty of that and good on him. The album threatens to break at times if you hold on too tight – notably on pared down Lua - yet for all its delicacy it has a marvellous strength, a robust energy that acts as a seal, felt powerfully on the opening and closing tracks. Throughout it he sings about being nowhere and no one - in the grey absence that is mornings - with a zeal that spans joyous, defiant and evangelical. A desire for escape runs the length of it, with a lot of talk about walking away, but horns kick in - Land Locked Blues - drums thump, cymbals clash and guitar goes wild - Old Soul Song (For The New World Order) and the wonderful Emmy Lou Harris joins in when he is wide awake in the midst of life. At The Bottom Of Everything - the fabulous, energetic opening that is both a manuscript for living and an ode to death - is no cause for concern.

There is a lot of the priest in Conor Oberst. The epicentre of the album, penultimate Poison Oak, plays like a kind of benediction for a transvestite brother who ‘got away’. Sometime after it had stopped my heart, it sent me off to Sparklehorse looking for yellow birds. (I found some.) The swells of the record, with its military drum beats, sparky acoustic guitar and warm electric guitar and horns, are then washed right up onto the shore with a discordant tumult of sound in Road To Joy. ‘I could have been a famous singer if I had someone else’s voice, but failure’s always sounded better - let’s fuck it up boys, make some noise.’

Well then. What a glorious fuck up.

Album release date: 25/01/05
Who: Bright Eyes
Review: Jane Rich
Pitchfork review: Bright Eyes

22-20s, Nine Black Alps

2005-01-22T20:30:00.000+01:00

After a brief mishap at the Box Office (I have a reference number, goddammit!) I'm allowed in, wondering if I should stop buying tickets and just turn up to gigs raving about my reference number from now on. Nine Black Alps are a nice warm-amp preamble to the main act but I can't say I'm taking them all too seriously just yet. In fact, that is the prevailing mood tonight. With both bands I feel slightly awkward, like I've caught them as teenagers in the bathroom, practising the songs that are going to make them famous in the mirror.

No one could be more disposed to like the 22-20s than me. Dirty blues rock 'n roll gets me more excited than any boy ever could. So, they're from Lincolnshire, but I'm prepared to overlook anything - blues is the lingua franca of the unsettled soul after all. And with riffs like the one that tears through Devil In Me, I'm longing to believe they've staggered somewhere near that crossroad. But they come out and I'm not feeling it, they play and I'm not feeling it, they pose and I'm not feeling it, and they rush Devil In Me and I'm not feeling it. In fact, it's only as we all leave that I taste a bit of that electricity we should have been getting our fix of for the last hour. And it's about where we're all going next.

It seems fitting somehow that Vauxhall Astra all but owns the best work of this band that got everyone into such a tizz. Come on boys. Get dirty. You picked the blues and if you want to pull this off, my feeling is you're gonna have to live them a little.

When: 22/01/04
Who: 22-20s, Nine Black Alps
Where: London Astoria
Review by: Jane Rich
Pitchfork reviews: 22-20s

Kings Of Leon, The Mooney Suzuki

2004-11-01T21:00:00.000+01:00

This rather odd gig-venue-within-a-shopping-centre is always going to be, well, rather odd, and tonight was no exception. In brief, The Mooney Suzuki provided an energetic, indulgent, but helplessly likeable opening - no doubt for the primary benefit of the well represented industry, throwing themselves and their instruments all over the stage and whipping the groundlings into a dangerous frenzy.

Cue much stage-diving and energetic jostling as the Boys Of Leon take to the stage. A glorious mix, all that testosterone-fuelled headbutting to the tune of Molly's Chambers. Royal the Kings were not tonight though, with Caleb apologising for his flu-ridden vocals and looking like he'd spent a godawful day at HMV, which he had. Matthew on the other hand was on fine form, but it was a tight, even terse set that left little room for the trance-inducing genius I've seen them achieve previously on tracks like Milk and Trani. More Milk and Cookies than anything else for Caleb tonight I think.

When: 1/11/04
Who: Kings of Leon, The Mooney Suzuki
Where: Islington Academy
Review by: Jane Rich
Pitchfork reviews: Kings of Leon, Mooney Suzuki