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.

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.

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.

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.

The Big Pink's customer service department

Is this what is meant by the term fighting cock?

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....

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.

Summer Camp, Spectrals, Babe Shadow: after you

The Lexington
8 April 2010

I saw Babe Shadow play as a duo in February, supporting Music Go Music, and thought they sounded promising on the basis of a 2 x guitar-and-voice half-band gig, and anticipated a full band set with interest - however any of the subtlety or art I thought I had heard previously was sadly absent from their unimaginative indie pop, where adding bass and drums somehow managed to diminish the creative possibilities, which is an achievement of sorts, I suppose.

Next!

Spectrals offered a fairly literal version of 60's-style surf pop, lightly flavoured with a more contemporary US tang in the slightly drunken wavering on-then-off-key guitar line thing going on. Not bad, if you are reconciled to pseudo 60's tunes in 2010, but definitely missing a trick as they somehow managed to deliver bounce-free tunes - no zip, no zest, no other words starting with z; with little or no variation to the pace of each song it all seemed rather lifeless.

Next!

We like Summer Camp round here, yes we do, but could do without those bright lights shining right in our eyes, thanks. (Hint: YES REALLY. Jeez.) Cracking version of Round The Moon (happyface), but off stage and waiting to do an encore after 20 minutes? Headline show, not a showcase....

Those were the days

Some of the finer new songs floating on The Internet lately have an unusually timeless quality, as if they have been around forever - ie any time since the '70's. The common theme is perhaps that they don't feel the need to follow current fashions, one of which is, ironically, to borrow wholesale from times past, so modish drum patterns and 80's synth chords are mercifully absent.

1stly: Leisure (not to be confused with The Leisure Society, of whom the same comment could certainly be made)
Leisure - It's Alright (On The Suez Canal)

2ndly: The Morning Benders, who do have a little grizzly touch here and there due to producer Chris Taylor, but what's an echo or two between pals?
The Morning Benders - Promises

3rdly: Blitzen Trapper
Blitzen Trapper - Heaven And Earth

Gilbert O'Sullivan, where are you now?