Royal Festival Hall
11 May 2010
Ah Joanna, Joanna - what is there to say?
Strange you should ask, as a few things do occur. Apart from the nagging suspicion that she would still have a lovely conversation even if she were alone in the room, and the obvious thoughts about bending her over and so on, she does seem to be a bit of a wonder. The great and the good were there to see for themselves, with a number of groovy popsters spotted in the audience, also the Boosh one who isn't Noel Fielding.
Despite having to learn a new singing style after vocal chord nodules a year ago, the endless torrent of lyrics streamed forth, importance to the oeuvre demonstrated by the dedicated book of words in the album box set, all impeccably, and clearly, sung. However, unlike many lyrically-focused artists, there is now - an improvement on Ys - an equal balance between the musical and lyrical interest, with the musical scope broad and inventive, faultlessly played by the band. Encompassing country, folk, jazz, blues, pop and classical elements - often in a single song - there was no shortage of fantastic, spellbinding music to thrill the passing blogger; thoughts that Good Intentions Paving Co is likely to be my song of the year lasted only until encore Baby Birch (although I do claim the right to revert that title).
My one complaint was that several times before the lengthy harp-tuning/Q&A interlude, and occasionally afterward - questions were invited from the audience, but "Who do you think should be the new Chancellor of the Exchequer?" was a bit of an ask, to be fair - the band drowned out JoNew, which kind of defeated the object, lovely as the arrangements were.
All of which magnificence, in case I have not made my feelings clear, was in marked contrast to the support act from "legend" (presumably in the footballing sense i.e. lazy shorthand for 'once thought to be quite good by his mum') Roy Harper, who really did make me want to kill myself *.
A bloke and a guitar - well, two guitars, but he only played one at a time - and he somehow contrived to have more sound problems than JoNew and her five musicians. Only two hours to soundcheck, he bemoaned, but go figure - one man, one mic, two electro-acoustics. Moving, then, swiftly beyond the forgotten words and the lost plectrum (just strum it!), suffice to say it was hard work to sit through this ego trip, although to be fair he can play a fine blues guitar. Unfortunately I find blues guitar to be a predictable idiom, and don't enjoy it.
There was enough reverb on the vox to muddy much of his singing, although despite the potential benefits of this, during a song that he had introduced as being about his 'bohemian' love life I am sure I heard the line "I saw you have your first daisy chain". I know which of the evening's artists I would rather feature in that mental image....
On that happy note, this is post no. 100; a suitable point at which to cease and desist. Thanks for stopping by.
* Please note that I did not kill myself in response to Roy Harper's performance.
5 May 2010
High Places, Bachelorette, Chen Santa Maria: mine's a pint. Oh, it isn't.
Cargo
4 May 2010
The last time I visited Cargo was for the terrafrastic Tune-Yards show, but yesterday at the same venue the experience was pretty much the polar opposite.
Opening act Chen Santa Maria were making such an awkward noise, at such a high volume, that the only option was to be somewhere else, so we did exactly that. Experimental noodlings can have their merits, but I couldn't find room in my heart for that lot.
After this, laptop-wielding Bachelorette seemed convinced that she was only there to make up the numbers, thanking us for being there to see High Places; fair enough, I suppose, as until she learns how to put across a live set then I don't want to pay to see it. If she is going to put herself on stage then she really shouldn't be so apologetic about it. The music itself had its moments, the best of which were like Yazoo tracks with Julianna Barwick-style vocals applied, which in theory sounds like a winner all the way. At least there were some visuals to help the performance....
... unlike High Places, who underwhelmed completely. With no stage presence to speak of, despite the duo now having moved out from behind the bank of kit seen on previous tours, the lack of any other visual aid was sorely missed. When combined with a 'difficult' sound scenario, it was impossible for any atmosphere to build on the night.
It seemed to be rather a struggle to actually deliver the set - despite constant negotiations with the sound man, the trademark clattering beats were usually overwhelming and only rarely did the layers of more delicate sounds become clear. All too often the vocals and guitars disappeared in the mix, a great shame as these were basically the only 'live' elements. Overall it seemed to be too great a challenge just to put all the sounds in place for each track, which really didn't do justice to their repertoire.
And all this grumbling dissatisfaction without even mentioning how poorly Cargo operates as a bar! Don't get me started...
4 May 2010
Opening act Chen Santa Maria were making such an awkward noise, at such a high volume, that the only option was to be somewhere else, so we did exactly that. Experimental noodlings can have their merits, but I couldn't find room in my heart for that lot.
After this, laptop-wielding Bachelorette seemed convinced that she was only there to make up the numbers, thanking us for being there to see High Places; fair enough, I suppose, as until she learns how to put across a live set then I don't want to pay to see it. If she is going to put herself on stage then she really shouldn't be so apologetic about it. The music itself had its moments, the best of which were like Yazoo tracks with Julianna Barwick-style vocals applied, which in theory sounds like a winner all the way. At least there were some visuals to help the performance....
... unlike High Places, who underwhelmed completely. With no stage presence to speak of, despite the duo now having moved out from behind the bank of kit seen on previous tours, the lack of any other visual aid was sorely missed. When combined with a 'difficult' sound scenario, it was impossible for any atmosphere to build on the night.
It seemed to be rather a struggle to actually deliver the set - despite constant negotiations with the sound man, the trademark clattering beats were usually overwhelming and only rarely did the layers of more delicate sounds become clear. All too often the vocals and guitars disappeared in the mix, a great shame as these were basically the only 'live' elements. Overall it seemed to be too great a challenge just to put all the sounds in place for each track, which really didn't do justice to their repertoire.
And all this grumbling dissatisfaction without even mentioning how poorly Cargo operates as a bar! Don't get me started...
4 May 2010
The Wilderness of Manitoba: someone call Simon Raymonde
Windmill
3 May 2010
In the back garden, Seamus, kindly providing charred things for everyone to eat, was protected from the cooling May breeze by his BBQ duties in outdoor conditions that WoM described as comparable to November in Canada, where, despite the bucolic nature of their name and music, they are in fact from urbane Toronto and not the untamed boonies.
Using a variety of instruments that included a little wooden owl whistle giving an authentic-sounding backwoods hoot, and two sizes of Tibetan singing bowl, WoM sit somewhere between Low Anthem and Fleet Foxes in style, which I appreciate is a fairly fine distinction when taking the broader view. There were harmonies a-plenty, and everything was beautifully crafted and delivered, although it was a little hard to find anything to get really excited about - until the set was drawing to a close, when a they played a crafty pair of aces to bring things nicely to a head.
Evening, written by lead singer Will Whitwham's late mother and reworked by the band, is a fine song indeed, with a touch more bite to it than their other songs, but the knock-me-down-with-a-feather cover of Timber Timbre's Demon Host was as if the Mamas & Papas had dropped out of the sky and landed on the slightly sticky floor of the Windmill. Stunning.
I hope that someone from Bella Union catches the band while they are here this week, as their roster is full of exactly this kind of thing.
3 May 2010
Using a variety of instruments that included a little wooden owl whistle giving an authentic-sounding backwoods hoot, and two sizes of Tibetan singing bowl, WoM sit somewhere between Low Anthem and Fleet Foxes in style, which I appreciate is a fairly fine distinction when taking the broader view. There were harmonies a-plenty, and everything was beautifully crafted and delivered, although it was a little hard to find anything to get really excited about - until the set was drawing to a close, when a they played a crafty pair of aces to bring things nicely to a head.
Evening, written by lead singer Will Whitwham's late mother and reworked by the band, is a fine song indeed, with a touch more bite to it than their other songs, but the knock-me-down-with-a-feather cover of Timber Timbre's Demon Host was as if the Mamas & Papas had dropped out of the sky and landed on the slightly sticky floor of the Windmill. Stunning.
I hope that someone from Bella Union catches the band while they are here this week, as their roster is full of exactly this kind of thing.
2 May 2010
Micachu & The Shapes with London Sinfonietta: no bricks required
King's Place
1 May 2010
The pre-show whispers from back-stage included the phrase 'bricking it', understandable for a one-off special performance in the august surroundings of Hall One at Kings Place. All very grown up it was, with some informal in-the-round performances in the sunken lobby spaces as people gathered, including the mesmerising Six Marimbas by Steve Reich, played on six... oh, you're there before me.
The opening part of the performance proper had the LS playing a series of very minimal pieces, some of which, it was explained, were written as improvisations to be played within certain parameters. Themes and methods explored here turned out to inform the second half of the concert, when M&TS joined the by now 7-piece Sinfonietta on stage.
Playing a series of continuous structured improvisations between each song, the LS effectively became a kind of living sequencer, able to deliver all manner of tones, timbres and rhythms to support the typically inventive range of scratchy scrapings, strums, beats and crashes from the band. None of the music played came from Jewellery, although I am not sure whether any of these songs were written just for the occasion.
The collaboration was clearly a live experiment, as it was designed to be, but there were a number of truly sublime and delightful passages, not least when using several musical bottles as novel wind instruments, and smiles onstage acknowledged the success of this and other of the climactic moments. At the close, with typical modesty, there were just a couple of bows and then the players left the stage, despite the applause ringing on for much longer.
Projected visuals were edited live by Dori Deng, integrating Micachu's signature geometric scribbles into stylised live footage from the stage, and was an effective addition; hopefully a film of the event will be available at some point, as there was a full-on AV presence recording the proceedings.
1 May 2010
The pre-show whispers from back-stage included the phrase 'bricking it', understandable for a one-off special performance in the august surroundings of Hall One at Kings Place. All very grown up it was, with some informal in-the-round performances in the sunken lobby spaces as people gathered, including the mesmerising Six Marimbas by Steve Reich, played on six... oh, you're there before me.
The opening part of the performance proper had the LS playing a series of very minimal pieces, some of which, it was explained, were written as improvisations to be played within certain parameters. Themes and methods explored here turned out to inform the second half of the concert, when M&TS joined the by now 7-piece Sinfonietta on stage.
Playing a series of continuous structured improvisations between each song, the LS effectively became a kind of living sequencer, able to deliver all manner of tones, timbres and rhythms to support the typically inventive range of scratchy scrapings, strums, beats and crashes from the band. None of the music played came from Jewellery, although I am not sure whether any of these songs were written just for the occasion.
The collaboration was clearly a live experiment, as it was designed to be, but there were a number of truly sublime and delightful passages, not least when using several musical bottles as novel wind instruments, and smiles onstage acknowledged the success of this and other of the climactic moments. At the close, with typical modesty, there were just a couple of bows and then the players left the stage, despite the applause ringing on for much longer.
27 April 2010
Bear In Heaven: the Campaign for Drummer's Rights starts here
Windmill
26 April 2010
This one is going to have be tagged as follows:
BIH were one of those bands who needed the drummer to thrash away like a bastard to supply the goods, whilst the other two dudes on guitar or keys needed only adjust a knob or a dial to whack up the effects as required. How unfair is that? I suppose it is good exercise to be crashing around on the drumkit, but he seemed extremely hot and I was a bit concerned.
As long as no other well meaning entity has already claimed the acronym, the CDR starts right here RIGHT NOW. Music world be warned, I've got my eye on you lot now.
However - whether the tall dudes will be back next time is perhaps open to question, as the set somehow didn't quite deliver on its promise; no real problems, but somehow it was a slightly plodding affair that didn't quite have the lightness of touch of the recordings, and it didn't help that there was little communication from the band. Maintaining enthusiasm for the show was, ever so slightly, an effort, so I think I will just stick with the album in future.
26 April 2010
This one is going to have be tagged as follows:
BIH were one of those bands who needed the drummer to thrash away like a bastard to supply the goods, whilst the other two dudes on guitar or keys needed only adjust a knob or a dial to whack up the effects as required. How unfair is that? I suppose it is good exercise to be crashing around on the drumkit, but he seemed extremely hot and I was a bit concerned.
As long as no other well meaning entity has already claimed the acronym, the CDR starts right here RIGHT NOW. Music world be warned, I've got my eye on you lot now.
Have you seen these being used in a cruel and vindictive way?
Anyway - despite it only being April, the sold-out Windmill was hot, stuffy and smelly, but, regardless, pleased to see BIH at the finish of the short UK leg of their tour, and the average height of the crowd was way too tall, indicating the degree of in-the-know interest in the event, at least according to my own crude theory on the matter.However - whether the tall dudes will be back next time is perhaps open to question, as the set somehow didn't quite deliver on its promise; no real problems, but somehow it was a slightly plodding affair that didn't quite have the lightness of touch of the recordings, and it didn't help that there was little communication from the band. Maintaining enthusiasm for the show was, ever so slightly, an effort, so I think I will just stick with the album in future.
25 April 2010
Polar Bear: hair, thair and everywhair
Front Room, QEH
23 April 2010
At what could be called pub o'clock on a Friday, the kind folk of the Southbank Centre can often be found opening their doors to the public for free events in varying parts of the complex. On this particular sunny Friday, the Front Room performance space was absolutely mobbed for a magnificent full-length set from Polar Bear, fresh from appearing on Later last week.
Directed from the back of the stage by drummer and band-leader Seb Rochford, who periodically added a few customarily soft-spoken comments and explanatory thoughts, the band were a joy to watch, from the obvious - the sonorous resonance of Tom Herbert's double bass, to the more discreet diversions of Leafcutter John, who at different points, not content with playing guitar and laptop-driven electronics, also used a deflating balloon, a PS2 (or 3, what's the difference?) and a Wii.
Most pleasing to see, as ever, was Mr Rochford, who, whilst driving forward the precisely constructed rhythms, maintained an expression of absolute calm that belied the blur of the drumsticks. Surely the most amazing thing about him is that his hair isn't the most amazing thing about him? Although, of course, I write as someone for whom the idea of choosing a hairstyle is a historical irrelevance...
In the jazz-ist manner there was room for individual extemporisation, and happy dialogues between the twin saxes, and looped bass-lines, before falling back into the mould of the tunes, which on new album Peepers continue to feel as much like ensemble rhythmic exercises as they do musical explorations, with no one instrument really taking overall lead. Combining tunes and dissonance, solo flourishes and neat combinations, syncopation and polyrhythms, it was an exhilarating journey through one part of a lively musical intelligence.
23 April 2010
At what could be called pub o'clock on a Friday, the kind folk of the Southbank Centre can often be found opening their doors to the public for free events in varying parts of the complex. On this particular sunny Friday, the Front Room performance space was absolutely mobbed for a magnificent full-length set from Polar Bear, fresh from appearing on Later last week.
Directed from the back of the stage by drummer and band-leader Seb Rochford, who periodically added a few customarily soft-spoken comments and explanatory thoughts, the band were a joy to watch, from the obvious - the sonorous resonance of Tom Herbert's double bass, to the more discreet diversions of Leafcutter John, who at different points, not content with playing guitar and laptop-driven electronics, also used a deflating balloon, a PS2 (or 3, what's the difference?) and a Wii.
Most pleasing to see, as ever, was Mr Rochford, who, whilst driving forward the precisely constructed rhythms, maintained an expression of absolute calm that belied the blur of the drumsticks. Surely the most amazing thing about him is that his hair isn't the most amazing thing about him? Although, of course, I write as someone for whom the idea of choosing a hairstyle is a historical irrelevance...In the jazz-ist manner there was room for individual extemporisation, and happy dialogues between the twin saxes, and looped bass-lines, before falling back into the mould of the tunes, which on new album Peepers continue to feel as much like ensemble rhythmic exercises as they do musical explorations, with no one instrument really taking overall lead. Combining tunes and dissonance, solo flourishes and neat combinations, syncopation and polyrhythms, it was an exhilarating journey through one part of a lively musical intelligence.
21 April 2010
Caribou, Gold Panda: animal magic
Corsica Studios
20 April 2010
On the day new album Swim was released, Caribou's excellent set was in marked live-action contrast to its book-ends: Gold Panda before, and a short DJ set from Keiran Hebden afterwards.
Switching between keyboards, guitar and percussion Dan Snaith led his band through a mix of old and new material, showing in fine style how to deliver his genre-avoiding output in the live setting. The set was well judged, peaking in intensity at points throughout, especially when the percussion was double-teamed, which also helped to finish the encore with a bang. Refreshing to see that live dance music doesn't have to be laptop or turntable based.
On a side-note, the band won 2-1 in the game of 'spot the false ending' - the crowd remained still when Memory Day paused for breath, but on two other occasions the song picked up again when applause had started; a room full of premature appreciators? It was a little bit like a Haberdasher's Aske's 5-year reunion in there....
It is usually unsatisfying to see solo knob-twiddlers play live, and unfortunately Gold Panda's donning of a panda hat during his earlier support set didn't quite add enough interest to make it a worthwhile spectacle. I do enjoy what I know of his music, but this set was maybe a bit ill-judged for the event, perhaps better suited to a club than a gig, and didn't really engage. And, slightly strangely, only about 40 people stayed on after Caribou to hear an admittedly firework-free wind-down set from Mr Tet, who settled on African flavours after some housey tunes to see us through.
20 April 2010
Switching between keyboards, guitar and percussion Dan Snaith led his band through a mix of old and new material, showing in fine style how to deliver his genre-avoiding output in the live setting. The set was well judged, peaking in intensity at points throughout, especially when the percussion was double-teamed, which also helped to finish the encore with a bang. Refreshing to see that live dance music doesn't have to be laptop or turntable based.
On a side-note, the band won 2-1 in the game of 'spot the false ending' - the crowd remained still when Memory Day paused for breath, but on two other occasions the song picked up again when applause had started; a room full of premature appreciators? It was a little bit like a Haberdasher's Aske's 5-year reunion in there....
It is usually unsatisfying to see solo knob-twiddlers play live, and unfortunately Gold Panda's donning of a panda hat during his earlier support set didn't quite add enough interest to make it a worthwhile spectacle. I do enjoy what I know of his music, but this set was maybe a bit ill-judged for the event, perhaps better suited to a club than a gig, and didn't really engage. And, slightly strangely, only about 40 people stayed on after Caribou to hear an admittedly firework-free wind-down set from Mr Tet, who settled on African flavours after some housey tunes to see us through.
16 April 2010
Davíð Þór Jónsson, Ólöf Arnalds: it must be something in the water
Cafe Oto
15 April 2010
Iceland must be the best place in the world, as - fact - 100% of all Icelandic performers I have seen are the happiest, jolliest folk imaginable.
Laughing and joshing between songs in an impressively bi-lingual manner, all was sweetness and light, and even the welcome-to-the-dark-side revelation that the body of a 10-string mandolin-type instrument was actually an armadillo shell was balanced by Ólöf's claim to be satisfied with an afterlife as a musical instrument should she step outside and be flattened by a bus.
However events opened in a slightly moody and uncertain fashion when the tall, bearded Davíð Þór Jónsson first turned off one of the few lights over the stage, and then inserted strips of card between the strings of the baby grand. Without ceremony he sat and started playing a kind of sub-Keith Jarrett solo improv, which was perfectly nice but caused Moments Of Audience Tension when he occasionally rose, almost stopped playing and plucked the piano strings or removed some of the card strips - time to clap? are things going wrong? what do we expect here? - but then, during a quiet and still moment he turned round and said 'Bless you' to someone who had sneezed, nicely breaking the mysterious spell.
His second improv segued into the introduction for Ólöf, who he then accompanied throughout; they rolled straight into her set, a tactic which worked really well, with many and various often slightly improvised delights duly unveiled, including an unamplified song discussing love (with no words, obvs), a song of serenity written on the day the krona lost 50% of its value, and a song in Japanese (how predictable). Ólöf really inhabits her songs, acting them out in a non-operatic and wholly believable way, and unlike much folk-type music these twinkly, sparkling songs never had a sense of predictability, which was really quite an achievement.
They were even kind enough to provide a mid-set interlude for bar/bog action to which they provided a gentle countrified accompaniment. Top that tonight, Plan B....
15 April 2010
Laughing and joshing between songs in an impressively bi-lingual manner, all was sweetness and light, and even the welcome-to-the-dark-side revelation that the body of a 10-string mandolin-type instrument was actually an armadillo shell was balanced by Ólöf's claim to be satisfied with an afterlife as a musical instrument should she step outside and be flattened by a bus.
However events opened in a slightly moody and uncertain fashion when the tall, bearded Davíð Þór Jónsson first turned off one of the few lights over the stage, and then inserted strips of card between the strings of the baby grand. Without ceremony he sat and started playing a kind of sub-Keith Jarrett solo improv, which was perfectly nice but caused Moments Of Audience Tension when he occasionally rose, almost stopped playing and plucked the piano strings or removed some of the card strips - time to clap? are things going wrong? what do we expect here? - but then, during a quiet and still moment he turned round and said 'Bless you' to someone who had sneezed, nicely breaking the mysterious spell.
His second improv segued into the introduction for Ólöf, who he then accompanied throughout; they rolled straight into her set, a tactic which worked really well, with many and various often slightly improvised delights duly unveiled, including an unamplified song discussing love (with no words, obvs), a song of serenity written on the day the krona lost 50% of its value, and a song in Japanese (how predictable). Ólöf really inhabits her songs, acting them out in a non-operatic and wholly believable way, and unlike much folk-type music these twinkly, sparkling songs never had a sense of predictability, which was really quite an achievement.
They were even kind enough to provide a mid-set interlude for bar/bog action to which they provided a gentle countrified accompaniment. Top that tonight, Plan B....
14 April 2010
Bits of James Murphy are all over the internet
Here's one:
LCD Soundsystem-Dance Yourself Clean
I don't really understand the deification of LCD. But sometimes, as happens here at 2:57, it makes you go ooof yeah. Not that clever, and by no means subtle.... but I'll just put that on repeat and ask no more silly questions.
Rather a shame it is apparently the last album for this project, but you can't argue with 3/3.
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