tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55745529658422421532024-03-05T14:41:29.062+00:00Kitten PaintingKitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.comBlogger197125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-15101219602592767782011-06-24T15:03:00.007+01:002011-06-24T18:23:40.099+01:00The way you are sends the shivers to my head. Fave Tunes April / May 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ47pR0eBfqB4QYdWS0ypwIMIMNM6GOLcRW7iQJvCdaxCy-GWdX3Ix7-Zm-siFu2y9qp8auqg1ulFq2eFg4xsq4QepKDfA_3hkpXClkbbbZDhoIWfttFNCnpJ7dKg60kSNYUig5RE5kRQ/s1600/harpcolour.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 279px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ47pR0eBfqB4QYdWS0ypwIMIMNM6GOLcRW7iQJvCdaxCy-GWdX3Ix7-Zm-siFu2y9qp8auqg1ulFq2eFg4xsq4QepKDfA_3hkpXClkbbbZDhoIWfttFNCnpJ7dKg60kSNYUig5RE5kRQ/s400/harpcolour.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621837670583373538" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span lang="EN-AU"><b>Record Shop - Help Stamp Out Loneliness </b>Sparkling s</span><span lang="EN-AU">piralling pop anthemness<span class="artist"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="apple-style-span"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; ">You Can Take A Heart But You Cannot Make It Beat - </span></b></span><st1:place st="on"><span class="artist"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; ">Hong Kong</span></b></span></st1:place><span class="artist"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; "> In The 60s </span></b></span><span class="artist"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; ">Especially for the woozly bass<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="artist"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; ">Mazes - Moon Duo </span></b></span><span class="artist"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; ">HAPPY! Crunchy-drone dreaminess<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="artist"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; ">Precarious Stair - Crystal Stilts </span></b></span><span class="artist"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; ">It’s not really big or clever to try and be The Velvet Underground, but it is big and clever to sound like Crash being The Velvet Underground<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="artist"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; ">Drone - Panda Bear </span></b></span><span class="artist"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; ">Heart-twisting<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="artist"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; ">Are You Watching – Hintermas </span></b></span><span class="artist"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; ">Like Soft Hearted Scientists playing during the Programmes For Schools countdown clock<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="artist"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><b>18 Hours Of Love – KXP </b>Raahhh! Alvin Stardust takes steroids and gets kosmichely funky<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="artist"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; ">He Gets Me High - Dum Dum Girls </span></b></span><span class="artist"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; ">FuzzeeEE! And reminds me of Beat Happening / Screaming Trees song ‘Polly Pereguin’<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="artist"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; ">Surfer’s Hymn – Panda Bear</span></b></span><span class="artist"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; "> Makes you have kaleidoscope ears<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="artist"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; ">9 Million Rainy Days – The Jesus & Mary Chain </span></b></span><span class="artist"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; ">Had an urge to listen to ‘Darklands’ again after seeing this:</span></span><span lang="EN-AU"> <a href="http://sweetshops.tumblr.com/">http://sweetshops.tumblr.com/</a></span></span><span class="artist"><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: black; "><span class="Apple-style-span"> And fell in love with this song all over.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9pt; "><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-29337814419757569272011-05-15T12:17:00.005+01:002011-05-15T12:31:57.546+01:00Tender Trap / The Garden City Projects Band – 30 April 2011, Filthy McNastys<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RD9U5TxjcAaAqQhlSKlLH3WCDXgkOj2cH1VMfSrqSK4PF2BlB_sZPda-kRWc8UhofVNwi2tzpYB-4GlmAmiyf3RVySnMKNEld9Pzc0VPMzXewXnmQzyduNeADlt_WyWJIne-Ys3zs8U/s1600/autumnalmanac30.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RD9U5TxjcAaAqQhlSKlLH3WCDXgkOj2cH1VMfSrqSK4PF2BlB_sZPda-kRWc8UhofVNwi2tzpYB-4GlmAmiyf3RVySnMKNEld9Pzc0VPMzXewXnmQzyduNeADlt_WyWJIne-Ys3zs8U/s320/autumnalmanac30.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606903282591045074" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >My Autumn Almanac, a night put on by The Garden City Projects Band, always has excellent fliers. I am easily won over by a tasty graphic, as I am by a night promising good bands playing in a friendly pub, but somehow I keep missing My Autumn Almanac happenings – they’re rather below the radar, so I’m mighty pleased tonight’s outing at Filthy McNasty’s has come to my attention.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; " >The barman at Filthy McNastys has been meaning to try out the new Strawberry and Lime flavour Kopparberg cider. Tonight he gets his chance when we order a bottle each and he helps himself to a wee taster, ‘You don’t mind if I try some do you?’ Unfortunately, he declares it delicious and decides he may have a new alcoholic obsession on its way. As we’re engaging in this impromptu cider tasting, Tender Trap are soundchecking in the other room. They do a song with a bassline that is exactly ‘Gimme Some Lovin’ which makes us snigger. It isn’t ‘Gimme Some Lovin’ though, later when we hear it all properly we find it’s a stampy, groovy new Tender Trap song, one of a few unleashed tonight.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >The band are having to play in a slightly quieter, less fuzzed up mode, but they still make a glorious bounce off the walls shake your imaginary tambourine buzzpop noise. During ‘2 to the N’ the momentum of the song builds into a shining wall of blissful sound and my head goes ‘Wooh!’ and almost bursts like a pop bubble. Another new song is written from the point of view of the boy (or girl or transgender person as Amelia points out for equality purposes) in ‘Train From Kansas City’ - a brilliantly obvious idea for a pop song, as all the best ideas usually are.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; " ><span class="Apple-style-span"></span>Emily of Betty and The Werewolves has taken over from Elizabeth Allo Darlin’ on guitar, adding a gleeful smiley energy, and, along with stand up drummer Katrina, some heart-whizzing scuffed up girl group harmonies.</span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" ><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBuALXiNEj774U4NpH6fqKDdaWZh_EqnagO7xrq9yzmisdyYSoXvUu_2Yc6g0Zqt9yN00DNcbG3xkHJ0KaJV73wETnUgOlFXJoWDalH85afclJ5RcmUw74bfE_f_8RfwqKfCF_x2l_dnY/s1600/almanacacoustic.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 264px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBuALXiNEj774U4NpH6fqKDdaWZh_EqnagO7xrq9yzmisdyYSoXvUu_2Yc6g0Zqt9yN00DNcbG3xkHJ0KaJV73wETnUgOlFXJoWDalH85afclJ5RcmUw74bfE_f_8RfwqKfCF_x2l_dnY/s320/almanacacoustic.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606902474870030610" /></a> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; " >As ever the band are endearingly entertaining, Amelia tells us she once played in a band with Paddy, The Garden City Projects Band drummer – when they were at school. Imagine!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >The Garden City Projects Band are beatnik suburbia new town modernists with hairy leanings who purvey bright folk-bossa-pop with irresistible tunes and lashings of mandolin. A sound not a million miles from The Memory Band’s lush clockwork bucolia. In their words The GCPB play ‘rural sounds for the city’, and their mix of song titles suggests this merging of styles; ‘Winter Solstice Morning’ versus ‘With Love From The Stafford Cripps Estate’ (my fave). After a set glinting with hints of a brighter world, the band close with sway-along stormer ‘Hey Myfanwy’ and we wake from floating on folky tributaries of tune to find ourselves in <st1:place st="on">Central London</st1:place>, and not at The Eel’s Foot Inn circa 1968.</span></span></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-5806357536673976452011-05-15T12:10:00.004+01:002011-05-15T12:16:53.582+01:00Hong Kong In The 60s / The Sunny Street – 27 April 2011, The Social<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHekACRCn14g2t_riuW6-83G3vIv2fHQm4rhqnlnR5YiIztoUHBynskfqIoCThFo-11QKuy1eJ4n9o2xke7XmoreXEvttTgseWJqf0j5ZLnEj3bIrG5Cht6L9OAhvPgSniZRhvJnCXDQ4/s1600/whiterabbit.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHekACRCn14g2t_riuW6-83G3vIv2fHQm4rhqnlnR5YiIztoUHBynskfqIoCThFo-11QKuy1eJ4n9o2xke7XmoreXEvttTgseWJqf0j5ZLnEj3bIrG5Cht6L9OAhvPgSniZRhvJnCXDQ4/s320/whiterabbit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606899717768813954" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; " >Huzzah! We are at a Sonic Cathedral night and Hong Kong In The 60s are launching their debut album. This is exciting as HK60s do interesting things like collaborating on a Ghost Box Study Series seven inch with The Advisory Circle, supporting The High Llamas, and releasing intriguing e.p.s that feature the sound of hospital ward jazz cocktail parties. They also have a selection of delicately constructed mind-stroking tunes.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; " >Unfortunately their album ‘My Fantoms’ hasn’t actually been released in time for this launch, so we can’t get our hands on it. However, we do get a free mix cd and some tasty Chinese sweets – behold the White Rabbit!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; " >We also get to enjoy visuals courtesy of a HK60s-chosen DVD flickering in the corner of the room. It’s giallo ‘triumph’ ‘Hatchet For A Honeymoon’ in all its stylish gory glory. It’s also a highly inappropriate backdrop to the sweet-heartedly elegant sounds of The Sunny Street. Whilst they swathe us in blossom-scented dream-pop behind them a man in bridal drag wields a bloody post-murder hatchet. Incongruous!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; " >The <st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">Sunny Street</st1:address></st1:street> are three boys with guitars, a backing track and Delphine up front whispering sherbet vocals over Acid House Kings style bossa-indie. When they woosh and build, guitars a-twangle it’s like New Order gone all continental and Goddard-ish or The Radio Dept having a sun dappled picnic.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; " >Hong Kong In The 60s channel vintage Chinese pop, the otherworldly tones of Broadcast, unsettling film soundtracks (hence the giallo shenanigans) and a hint of kosmiche through a selection of cranky keyboards. Mei Yau sings in a wistful tone and they flood the room with contemplative, slightly melancholic hypnagogic dust motes of sound. The best bits are when Tim and Chris throw in some harmonies allowing the songs to flourish, and when Tim adds twangly, gooey bass bumping up the driftyness into something almost funky in a ‘Long Hot Summer’ sort of way (‘You Can Take A Heart But You Cannot Make It Beat’).</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; " >We spend an enjoyable time, lulled by the sleepy electronic atmospherics, peeking into the cabinets of curiosity that are HK60s songs. By the end of the set there’s a general air of thanks for the sweets, can we have the album now please?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; " >P.S. Yes we can have the album now please. It is out!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; " ><a href="http://hongkonginthe60s.bandcamp.com/album/my-fantoms" target="_blank">hongkonginthe60s.bandcamp.com/album/my-fantoms</a></span></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-41866409075757235762011-04-14T09:17:00.004+01:002011-04-14T09:23:17.651+01:00<a href="http://www.blogger.com/" target="_blank"></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">Excellent piece on the C86 cassette over at The Quietus, once agian patiently explaining that no it wasn't all jangly in them days:<br /><br /></span><a href="http://thequietus.com/articles/05828-c86-and-all-that" target="_blank"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">thequietus.com/articles/05828-c86-and-all-that</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><br /><br /><br />Also, from the Comments, a memory that rings true: </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">"God yeah, Stump. The sound of Friday tea-times of the mid-80s, trying to see how long your Dad would let you watch The Tube until his patience snapped." </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">Ha ha!</span>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-10327209102972789702011-04-06T09:33:00.005+01:002011-04-06T09:54:28.072+01:00Help Stamp Out Loneliness - Help Stamp Out Loneliness (WIAIWYA / Papillons Noir)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-eY8g4UbsKPMuFm2FUOCVXacXoijIZM1atT754hQ2V0VRhCskiaegNcYzG3RiVi6e3_0wJJAL5_3UIQoWg_0Q13KqPg8hIvQ4LBAKJkgHBuj_yqIbUdmQgFrjceguHwdNssUCcXtBLVg/s1600/31_thumb.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-eY8g4UbsKPMuFm2FUOCVXacXoijIZM1atT754hQ2V0VRhCskiaegNcYzG3RiVi6e3_0wJJAL5_3UIQoWg_0Q13KqPg8hIvQ4LBAKJkgHBuj_yqIbUdmQgFrjceguHwdNssUCcXtBLVg/s400/31_thumb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592388995560050194" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Woo! A real whizz of excitement when I open up the jiffy bag and discover I’ve been sent the debut by Help Stamp Out Loneliness. Gig ubiquitous a couple of years ago, the band have been off the radar for a bit, but their songs stayed in my head the whole time, infectious tunes flashing out of my memory at random moments, sparkling bright, making me smile. It’s great to see them back, especially with this beautifully honed album.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >You know the way you’re always hoping a record will hit pop highs? When you’re waiting for that point when the music flicks that switch inside you that transforms the world… and then often it never quite works? This record flicks that switch and hits those highs. Soaring, sky-high, above the clouds just laughing down at it raining kind of pop highs. It’s a brilliant Spring into Summer record - big, optimistic sounds, shining guitars, swooning synths, shivery keyboards and singer D. Lucille’s swooping Nico voice dipping and swerving, dragging your heart in its slipstream.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Soaring opener ‘Cottonopolis + Promises’ has echoes of Blondies’ ‘Dreaming’, a good touchstone for the band’s sound, not because they’re a female fronted band (duh! there are also two keyboarding women in the band, thanks) but because this is effortless, ageless pop music.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >‘Record Shop’ is a ready-made classic, you can’t help but stop and let yourself get magicked away in its big pop sound, imagining the future you rushing to the dance floor with a whoop as the first chords kick in.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Help Stamp Out Loneliness are a cut above yer average guitars-bit-of-keyboards-for variety schmindie band, there’s an ambitious sheen about the songs. ‘Cellophane’ has a bumpy-funk rhythm, its serpentine tune wrapped in huskily piping fairground organ. ‘S-W-I-M’ gleams and shimmers and winks from a darkened corner where it’s flirting with The Cure. ‘Palma Violence’ menaces in the sleekest, most twinkly way and ‘My Window’ goes all wide-screen with sandpapery guitar wibbling and sighing backing vocals.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >The twelve songs here whirl you along with a rush and a push of powerful pop momentum, like taking a dozen rollercoaster rides one after the other. Which isn’t to say there’s no breathing space here, the music is expansive and luxurious. It’s enthusiastic and joyful. I hope that’s how the band feel about the record because that’s what comes across and that’s how it makes me feel.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >P.S. 'Record Shop' is being released as a free download to celebrate Record Shop Day on April 16th. Support your local record shop innit? Links below:</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><a href="http://www.myspace.com/helpstampoutloneliness" target="_blank">www.myspace.com/helpstampoutloneliness</a><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><a href="http://www.wiaiwya.com/" target="_blank">www.wiaiwya.com</a><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www.brokenheartfoundation.org.uk/papillonsnoirs/" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" >www.brokenheartfoundation.org.uk/papillonsnoirs</span></a><o:p></o:p></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-3905408169158985132011-04-05T14:12:00.003+01:002011-04-05T14:14:15.542+01:00Once a time I took to melody and drank it every night. Fave Tunes January / February 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihky31KHI1KeD3LYELqFtMXWA3WR9rtpjJ9vwka4fe9npYfMB6P3iUsvRInKW7u4m3rYlbxb28aCsM0WzAE8foYP-yt_XdPJ10mUL1uheipf5tGr8TezoAV5ihCCbXK1iywNH_yj1OK-k/s1600/train.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 291px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihky31KHI1KeD3LYELqFtMXWA3WR9rtpjJ9vwka4fe9npYfMB6P3iUsvRInKW7u4m3rYlbxb28aCsM0WzAE8foYP-yt_XdPJ10mUL1uheipf5tGr8TezoAV5ihCCbXK1iywNH_yj1OK-k/s400/train.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592087084570740226" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">Always On My Mind – Reading Rainbow </span></b><span lang="EN-AU">Sugary JAMC droney indie girlpop<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">Until Then – Broadcast</span></b><span lang="EN-AU"> For remembering Trish to<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">Hotel Shampoo – Gruff Rhys</span></b><span lang="EN-AU"> The whole album is an aural swoon<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">Pure Radio Cosplay – And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead </span></b><span lang="EN-AU">Hurtling pop-prog hardcore<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">Apples - Memory Band </span></b><span lang="EN-AU">Wistful, rolling English country-folk<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">Hall Of Bright Carvings - Titus Groan </span></b><span lang="EN-AU">I have been reading Mervyn Peake’s triology recently – how great to find an olde prog record all obsessed with Gormenghast.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span lang="EN-AU"></span><b><span lang="EN-AU">Cave Dance – Jonny</span></b><span lang="EN-AU"> Glam goes kosmiche</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">Ghosts – The Memory Band</span></b><span lang="EN-AU"> Sunset droney harmonium-lovely folk<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">So High - Ringo Deathstarr </span></b><span lang="EN-AU">American shoegaze band plunders ‘Strawberry Wine E.P.’ non-shock<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">1000 Years – The Coral </span></b><span lang="EN-AU">Scousers crash land in <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Laurel</st1:placename> <st1:placename st="on">Canyon</st1:placename></st1:place><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU"><st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>I Shall Leave You There - Sproatly Smith</b> Clockwork folk drifting in the aether</span></st1:placename></st1:place></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Sing-along-a-Wickerman</span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" > I cannot resist the opportunity to jam an ivy wreath on my head and belt out the Maypole Song (with actions). Hurrah to Night of the Long Swords for putting this on.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" ><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-31545044353902847132011-02-20T19:29:00.009+00:002011-02-21T20:34:06.492+00:00The Loves Retirement Party, 13 February 2011, The Lexington<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWPhVK-EizcyaFzAxOYC3e299TUnTGa4ir5EVqSUpPzVZu8v5dGXicYkFmPzf2XFbNFzRjT8uhamsIYWZSiEvY8IBrCAViwuN8qQWPS1P-9wT2I2-N3SWPWxcy7f6pSX-toesoeFDNr70/s1600/drum.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWPhVK-EizcyaFzAxOYC3e299TUnTGa4ir5EVqSUpPzVZu8v5dGXicYkFmPzf2XFbNFzRjT8uhamsIYWZSiEvY8IBrCAViwuN8qQWPS1P-9wT2I2-N3SWPWxcy7f6pSX-toesoeFDNr70/s320/drum.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576241000001813026" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >My name is Kitten Painting and I have seen The Loves 31 times. I’m not sure how this happened, but I’m glad it did. It’s been a rum old 11 years, but now it is all coming to an end. The Loves are retiring with a POP!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Simon has handpicked the bands for today’s retirement party extravaganza, and I reckon if you smooshed them all together in some kind of musical super collider you might end up with a sort of Frankingstein’s monster version of The Loves.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >For starters there are <b>The Werewandas</b> who tout bouffanty quiffs and familiar faces (familiar in our micro world of popular song, anyway) whilst playing some toe-tappin’ rockabilly. A stompin’ly cheery beginning.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>Mick Travis</b> aka Jamie once of Tompaulin plays a solo acousto set mainly made up of old Tompaulin songs (‘Ballad Of The Boot Boys’, ‘My Life At The Movies’, ‘It’s A Girl’s World’, ‘Slender’ – wow!) in which he sings both boy and girl vocals, attacks his guitar with passion and reminds us how ace the band were. The songs give me flashbacks to a Track And Field happening at The Scala in 2001 which included Tompaulin and The Loves. It’s confusing feeling nostalgic for the recent past.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihBC6h5jcPApRuEyn88W4vldo9wHPVfEHub-JM8fzTpBISrUhellaQjN27XSTF_iXgTTsVsZzBZBmOjwQb7mpymV_qfG4llCSL8L7XNRlzd5yn1NTp23wX7W2jfyVLHmRS90udrb7_G9k/s1600/stitches.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihBC6h5jcPApRuEyn88W4vldo9wHPVfEHub-JM8fzTpBISrUhellaQjN27XSTF_iXgTTsVsZzBZBmOjwQb7mpymV_qfG4llCSL8L7XNRlzd5yn1NTp23wX7W2jfyVLHmRS90udrb7_G9k/s320/stitches.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576241167330806402" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span">A raw blast of garage from <b>The Vinyl Stitche</b>s gets us on our feet, shaking to their heavy blues take on the freakbeat sound. They have great hair and a bloodcurdling selection of throat-scratching howls and also a bit of a technical hitch during which the DJ plays The Cramps and Love’s ‘My Little Red Book’. You’d think it might be a bit intimidating having to kick-start a conked out set in the face of such fine garage sounds from the vaults, but The Vinyl Stitches sandblast their way through their second half with such power that you can’t even see the join.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Next: <b>Pocketbooks</b>, the sound of young(ish) indiepop <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">London</st1:place></st1:city>. They wield a fistful of new songs and take us on a cheery canter round some old faves. They’re a refreshing pop burst that’s most welcome at this point in proceedings as we are starting to go a bit mental and have taken to wearing ‘hiphop glasses’.</span></p> <span class="Apple-style-span" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqy6EFtfyqY10S1SDpbghGJkzFnmfNxZLKcdlnleEOkh7iFEq-oCWkQdf-WnUoCTr51hkYCKWUIAtJlNHptkCSe5xsQr0WWH6BFOIxKe3fb4xyuYTLH3vWSGBC9m2_xzzSW57UiMLImq8/s1600/eggs.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 273px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqy6EFtfyqY10S1SDpbghGJkzFnmfNxZLKcdlnleEOkh7iFEq-oCWkQdf-WnUoCTr51hkYCKWUIAtJlNHptkCSe5xsQr0WWH6BFOIxKe3fb4xyuYTLH3vWSGBC9m2_xzzSW57UiMLImq8/s320/eggs.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576241427601827666" /></a> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >If you aren’t charmed by <b>The Lovely Eggs</b> then you have gone wrong. They’re playing fast, we’re told, ‘cos they haven’t had their teas yet, racing through a set that displays a selection of wonky wares from their fine new album ‘Cob Dominos’. There’s the ferocious sing-song of opener, ‘People Are Twats’, a fleeting medley consisting of ‘Muhammed Ali and All His Friends’ / ‘I’m A Journalist’ (“I’m a journalist up your arse!”), and the brilliant Chigley hardcore of ‘Why Don’t You Like Me’ about how girls shouldn’t be girlfriends of blokes in bands, but should be IN bands. (“I said you get on your bike and I beggared off on tour”). Holly’s between song chat is sweet and hilarious and at odds with her deranged, hair flying, corrosive guitar attacks. David grins and grins and batters the drums and adds all important counter-points to Holly’s words. The Lovely Eggs make you want to eat jelly and ice-cream, jump up and down, shout along (“Look at ‘im with ‘is sausage roll thumb!”), and then give them a great big hug.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>The School</b> treat us to a selection of Loves songs and are heckled from the sidelines by The Loves themselves. The likes of ‘That Boy Is Mine’ and ‘She’ll Break Your Heart’ are bubblegum girl-grouped to within an inch of their pop lives. Je T’aime Baby’ becomes almost kosmiche, whilst Simon and Jenna Love can’t resist the urge to rush onto the stage to sing backing vocals and indulge in a little waltz. Sweet.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>Comet Gain</b> hold it together and fly through a rambunctious set. In Kaye’s absence, Jon Slade takes up a tiny pink bass and Ben Phillipson, who seems to be filling the role of CG odd-job man at the moment, does guitar. The fabulous ‘The Fists In The Pocket’ sees an outbreak of (3) people doing idiot dancing down the front, sparking looks of bemusement/disdain on Feck’s fuzzy face. There’s the rowdy anxiety attack of ‘Working Circle Explosive’<span style="color:red"> </span>and then a long discussion about what extra song to play as the band have finished their set with time to spare (surely a first). This discussion is so long it takes up most of the extra time, but hurrah! ‘My <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Defiance</st1:place></st1:city>’ eventually gets blurted out. To end, Feck throws a bunch of his old home-made mix CDs into the crowd, a generous gesture considering he had been toying with selling them for 50p each in order to ‘get Comet Gain drunk’.</span></p> <span class="Apple-style-span" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5gsI_NingXSfweQIXG6XGcl5CsMPdSjBYfijksh5r_nGUPzXdVat8BA-kZVOSk4HZ8f-DU2vOKWMMM4cbNbG1zSajTInVP2VpFV904tlfrbFhBeGFOi7Z1NCIqb7pJZCW_70_fmgCsRs/s1600/loves2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5gsI_NingXSfweQIXG6XGcl5CsMPdSjBYfijksh5r_nGUPzXdVat8BA-kZVOSk4HZ8f-DU2vOKWMMM4cbNbG1zSajTInVP2VpFV904tlfrbFhBeGFOi7Z1NCIqb7pJZCW_70_fmgCsRs/s320/loves2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576241688109987682" /></a> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >And now, the end is near. <b>The Loves</b> stride the stage for the final time. Simon has changed into a spiffy red ‘n’ black combo and, befitting the gravitas of the evening, a toy Kermit* clings to his shoulder.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >There’s a jovial sense of occasion amongst the crowd, it’s sad that it couldn’t always be like this. ‘Sweet Sister Delia’ is dedicated to everyone’s favourite drumming, strumming, hand-stampin’ lady (and one-time Love). Simon gets all embarrassed about singing ‘Motherfuckers’ in front of his girlfriend’s mum. Sean Price is Jesus. At least that’s what ‘It’s… The End Of The World’ would have you believe as the sheet-clad Fortuna Pop-man guest-stars as our Saviour for the song. There’s a succession of tunes new and old, ‘I Want Love And Affection…’, ‘Bubblegum’, ‘WTF?’, ‘Coca Cola’, ‘Can You Feel My Heart Beat’…every one’s a winner. Guitars are turned down in order that we might hear and savour the added string section (courtesy of A Little Orchestra) on ‘December Boy’. We can’t really hear them, but it’s the thought that counts.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >It’s always been the thought that counts with The Loves (in a good way), you could never accuse them of being indie-of-ambition (feather-clad dancing girls, Doug Yule guesting on the new album, the afore-mentioned Jesus, moustaches! capes!!), Simon has always chewed up and spat out a whole wide range of influences which made The Loves much more than just 60s fetishists, or swinging Carnaby Street historical re-enactors. And Simon’s love of rock ‘n’ roll has always been tempered by an all important sense of the absurd (the man’s a top onstage quipper). This is why I loved The Loves. Tunes! Fun! Drink! Chaos! More Tunes!</span></p> <span class="Apple-style-span" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoz2pkXFcVhU0ZvVEq2DPGPR8s9KLun-n-9cwHiEnB3s61XmCPqR3uzh5NS6rN4vU1FIyIzjWqzISLr6vvSNY4u4eIjKQ7aZKa3GLY3jE8umLgTwwu8Iftv8YLo0Uq2Z6MTQ8FqbjKmOM/s1600/loves1.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoz2pkXFcVhU0ZvVEq2DPGPR8s9KLun-n-9cwHiEnB3s61XmCPqR3uzh5NS6rN4vU1FIyIzjWqzISLr6vvSNY4u4eIjKQ7aZKa3GLY3jE8umLgTwwu8Iftv8YLo0Uq2Z6MTQ8FqbjKmOM/s320/loves1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576241861543966018" /></a> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><o:p> </o:p>The band segues neatly into ‘You Give A Little Love’ from the Bugsy Malone soundtrack (a tune that maybe hasn’t been aired since the end of The Loves mk I at Pow! To The People 2004), and we sing our little hearts out. It seems like this should be the finale, but the last Loves song is ‘Little Girl Blues’, we dance our little toes off to what was The Loves first single. What goes around comes around. R.I.P. The Loves.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >*I remember in the 80s when these Kermits were all the rage amongst the kids. I really wanted one, but instead I had a fake one that came from a fairground. It was the wrong colour green. And wasn’t Kermit, just a furry frog.</span></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-19662508585758737512011-01-17T16:22:00.008+00:002011-01-23T16:58:08.218+00:00Trish Keenan<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG_MUGnbhu1NPZuOeKxcWa76MgTEHcuKu3SJqeyKuCPkLNQyEcT1hpRryPeCCejWMw76zeuwILi1UatQJ9tRyEBBDRfOpwbPpoK4-hyZ72PbCc66wHvgof04tVHjWbRIJnNZcjYkEXwKg/s1600/trish.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG_MUGnbhu1NPZuOeKxcWa76MgTEHcuKu3SJqeyKuCPkLNQyEcT1hpRryPeCCejWMw76zeuwILi1UatQJ9tRyEBBDRfOpwbPpoK4-hyZ72PbCc66wHvgof04tVHjWbRIJnNZcjYkEXwKg/s320/trish.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565090273411674050" /></a><div><span>Last Friday afternoon I learned the devastating news that Trish Keenan of Broadcast had passed away earlier in the day. I haven’t felt so distraught at the death of someone I don’t know personally since John Peel died. On the bus early Saturday morning, I listened to ‘The Noise Made By People’ again. As with all of Broadcast’s albums, I played it and played it when it came out, but haven’t listened to it for a while. The drifting, gently otherworldly songs matched exactly with my view of headlights smudging the twilight and London landmarks looming out of the murky grey morning. When ‘Come On Let’s Go’ came on, something about the way Trish sings the word ‘go’- her ‘Hello children everywhere’ singing voice cut with a hint of Brummie – was really upsetting, really brought home the fact that she’s gone.<br /><br />I’ve been listening to Broadcast a lot the last couple of years, their last release, in conjunction with The Focus Group, ‘Investigate Witch Cults of the Radio Age’ was utterly perfect, from the sleeve art to the incidental found sounds to the esoteric influences of the songs, and the accompanying hauntological videos, it seemed to chime with my current interests, and Trish seemed to embody all that was intriguing about the record. I don’t have many ‘role models’, but Trish was one, a woman with a real fascination for and love of odd and obscure musics. Interviews with her and Broadcast partner James Cargill would reveal a rich seam of interesting records, films, books and artists I could then go and investigate. Even better were the Broadcast Radio Mixes the pair put together, full of weird and wonderful Library music, Radiophonic clips, spectral folk, curious electronica etc. Earphones in, I could walk around in a world haunted by Broadcast’s charity shop, crate digging finds. It was great to see a woman fully immersed in what’s usually seen as a geeky bloke’s universe. Women can be geeky about music too. And Trish managed to be geeky and look cool at the same time, her style mutating from second-hand 60s dresses to priestess of a beat coven. Last year I couldn’t resist buying a dress that was on sale in a musty ‘vintage’ shop on Holloway road. I thought of it as my ‘Broadcast dress’ because it looked like something Trish might wear.<br /><br />Lately, I had been eagerly awaiting a new Broadcast album, excited to find out what path the band might take next, wondering whether they’d explore further the experimental territory they mapped out during the improvised first half of their 2010 Ether Festival performance. I’m so glad I got to see this, their last London show, it was the kind of concert that thoroughly absorbs, takes you on a journey, so that when it ends you look about blinking, feeling like you’ve woken from a lucid dream. I’m going to keep with me the image of Trish, abandoning her table of analogue synths for one song to take centre stage, singing in her pure, soothing voice, gliding backwards and forwards whilst a monster projection of her shadow veered across the back wall, the mesmerising focus of the ritual. </span></div>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-57784977962877107722011-01-08T16:22:00.009+00:002011-01-23T13:06:12.410+00:00The Loves / Standard Fare / Evans the Death, 4 January 2011, The Lexington<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Ah the Winter Sprinter. Remember this Track and Field curated annual gathering of schmindie-minded folks? It wasn’t just the usual London gits snuffling their way into the New Year with a bit of beer quaffing and band scrutinising, but people making a right proper effort from up North and that (all hail the couple who came down from the outer reaches of the Scottish Highlands in order to see Herman Dune or some such and who looked at us in disgust when we said we couldn’t be arsed travelling as far as Kilburn). It was an ace annual lark wasn’t it? Well here we are again at (Not) The Track and Field Winter Sprinter. Fortuna Pop! have proudly taken up the first-thing-in-Jan-pop-fest baton and are waving it excitably in our Christmas-dulled faces. Yay! But also Gah! Headliners Shrag have had to cancel due to illness. But then again Hurrah! we get to see a band we ain’t seen before instead.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <span class="Apple-style-span"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPkyD20JDi0rJ3WIkuKUft8WeDwJ7922Na5h1CBLchYPgo1nJqfJOTuTI1iouj1sPEmuaubMoKFRIT_ZjgF-aLf0-atyUhEoHcxW9kxUqmhYWFxEUvOkDaTcStU82jpBidLkOF6Dd9ktM/s1600/evans.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPkyD20JDi0rJ3WIkuKUft8WeDwJ7922Na5h1CBLchYPgo1nJqfJOTuTI1iouj1sPEmuaubMoKFRIT_ZjgF-aLf0-atyUhEoHcxW9kxUqmhYWFxEUvOkDaTcStU82jpBidLkOF6Dd9ktM/s320/evans.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565358695116134034" /></a> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">That band is Evans The Death who are all v. young. Look at their little fresh faces – the bastards. They play a crackling selection of popmental songs, with Katherine’s loop the loopy, sweetly gulpy voice the cherry on their wonky cake of tune. Topically, for Katherine has the sniffles, they play 'Catch Your Cold' “for anyone who’s had flu or a cold in the last month” (i.e. everyone).<span style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); "> </span><span style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); ">Then there’s ‘</span>Morning Voice<span style="color:#222222">’ in which Katherine displays the opposite of a morning voice - not at all croaky and grumpy, but swoopy and catching on little hooks. Meanwhile there are two lots of guitars </span>going clang-a-lang-a lang-a in a whizz-your-heart-up-in-a-blender jangling way,<span style="color:red"> </span><span style="color:#222222">plus a lot of young person’s hair to marvel at. One guitarist has Douglas Hart’s old JAMC hair. The drummer has that sweepy hair that boys have, (a style described, brilliantly, on Achewood as ‘a sideways, microwaved Byrds wig’). The bass player is magnificently gingery of mop. They also have a song called 'A Small Child Punched Me In The Face'. Good one.</span></span></p> <span class="Apple-style-span"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglVo4YG4m8Vac720mnNVhgsCQRbLWpQODwWEPs12LfWFkBewOwSEvaYvJZq0Qtk98Z3G28WwL6H23OLYjyHO42We1D3TNq3YdV3VCQmKrE-a6hPSuerfXpN1CmmZaIJdsu9aXMz70pKMU/s1600/standard.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglVo4YG4m8Vac720mnNVhgsCQRbLWpQODwWEPs12LfWFkBewOwSEvaYvJZq0Qtk98Z3G28WwL6H23OLYjyHO42We1D3TNq3YdV3VCQmKrE-a6hPSuerfXpN1CmmZaIJdsu9aXMz70pKMU/s320/standard.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565359106295242418" /></a> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Standard Fare charge through their set at a lightning pace so singer Emma can catch her train. We feel bad about detaining them with all our selfish listening to their songs and watching them play and stuff, they were expecting to be first on the bill and out of here by now, so their haste is forgivable. In my head I sort of know I like Standard Fare, but every time I see them I’m always thrilled by just how ace their songs are. Emma’s voice, with its tiny throat-catchy crack, is just the right kind of slightly hurt-sounding. Smiley-faced guitar-strangler Danny is always a joy to behold as he cheerily coaxes out tricksy melodies and skewed chords. A race through the Long Blondish ‘Fifteen’ and they’re done. Bye, then.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">This may be NOT! The Track and Field Winter Sprinter, but the T&F spirit is kept aglow by the presence of Mr Paul Wright in the DJ Overlord’s box. He plays some fine rippin’ tunes, from The Bodines ‘Therese’ to a big old chunk of Nuggets garage, so the between bands sounds make for mighty fine listening too.</span></p> <span class="Apple-style-span"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRsYnLAhPqnFhTPq1Fa_j8HTnlJnaIPf8fx4Aiy07VaxUIVauSQSO0Afuf1YYf1meFPrzDw3ex8EfziCHaPUrMHpZsycaVsGgcY1l4YtbzCi4vo0ga7gxgOFlx5gOrfds8YTLR3rewSg4/s1600/loves.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRsYnLAhPqnFhTPq1Fa_j8HTnlJnaIPf8fx4Aiy07VaxUIVauSQSO0Afuf1YYf1meFPrzDw3ex8EfziCHaPUrMHpZsycaVsGgcY1l4YtbzCi4vo0ga7gxgOFlx5gOrfds8YTLR3rewSg4/s320/loves.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565359300836888050" /></a> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">It seems that the people who say this kind of thing are suddenly all going ‘Oh I think I like The Loves now’ after many years of barely concealed indifference. Well it’s too late ‘cos the band have nearly finished their ‘career’ for good. We are pleased to have been witnessing their spectacle in all its myriad forms since they started. Tonight we get The Loves in competent yet entertaining mode with Simon Love and his moustache playing ringmaster to the band’s rock ‘n’ roll circus. There are tracks from their new album mixed with old faves like ‘Xs and Os’ plus added mid-set horseplay in celebration of drummer Jonny’s birthday. Tonight, being a school night, The Loves line-up does not include singer Jenna, so the lady voice sections go to Alice who gets to sing the foot-stampingly catchy ‘That Boy Is Mine’ as well as swinging her shiny locks o’er her keyboard.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">On 'It's...The End Of The World', the part of Jesus (yes) is played on the album by a real-life Velvet Undergroundman Doug Yule. Here, tonight, on Pentonville Road, the part is played by the aforementioned Paul Wright who has the good grace to stand on stage like a goon until he is required to say his lines. This messianic role is initially offered to Bob Underexposed, but he declines to creep the boards for some reason (sanity?) As ever The Loves live experience is a thoroughly enjoyable bubblegum beat happening. Sadly, chances to witness it are rapidly running out.</span></p><div><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" target="_blank"></a></div>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-44561733475556628252011-01-08T16:21:00.007+00:002011-01-23T13:05:25.728+00:00Comet Gain / The Loft / Veronica Falls, 5 January 2011, The Lexington<p class="MsoNormal"><span >Night two of NOT!! The Track and Field Winter Sprinter and, unlike last night, the Lex is packed early doors. There’s a noticeable contingent of hipster kidz, perhaps here for <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Veronica</st1:placename> <st1:placename st="on">Falls</st1:placename></st1:place>, a band who have managed to endear themselves both to the oldsters - by sounding like bands did when the oldsters were youngsters - and to the youth by cleverly being young and presumably cool (who knows what’s cool with the kids apart from showing your pants/bum area?)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <span class="Apple-style-span" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOrKKzGlISXTRmthap-fYnIelF1EofB18zM7huyW1eeDvZgWw5OylIYR7wZLG6Jr13v_OPxJTbze94tm4mo1esG0GCOyjUjGEJwlGeQKm6LPQ5MggOS8fJ5TzHrmD3jDQaiF-BH2m7P8g/s1600/falls.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 205px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOrKKzGlISXTRmthap-fYnIelF1EofB18zM7huyW1eeDvZgWw5OylIYR7wZLG6Jr13v_OPxJTbze94tm4mo1esG0GCOyjUjGEJwlGeQKm6LPQ5MggOS8fJ5TzHrmD3jDQaiF-BH2m7P8g/s320/falls.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565363847418804818" /></a> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on"><span>Veronica</span></st1:placename><span> <st1:placename st="on">Falls</st1:placename></span></st1:place><span> begin by singing acapella three part harmonies that are all lovelee, folky, roses-and-morning-dew-ish before they get ripped into with a beat, beat smash colourburst of feisty popness. Those harmonies continue throughout the set, buzzing around the jangling guitars and bumpy drums, they’re one of the things that set VF apart from your usual jangle, smash, lalala indiepop thing and makes them extra special.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >All of their songs are fabulous; <st1:place st="on">Beachy Head</st1:place>, Stephen, Found Love In A Graveyard, have a nervy, rumbly vibe like Beat Happening running down a hill. Classic pop tunes of our time forming before our very eyes! There are covers, too but they don’t quite have the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Veronica</st1:placename> <st1:placename st="on">Falls</st1:placename></st1:place> pop-kick of their own songs, fewer layers of sound maybe? It’s still good to hear ‘What Goes On’ though, as it reminds me how this used to be my fave Velvets song and how we used to wig out to it at the Basement in Brighton (RIP). That’s the problem with VU covers, it’s always nice to hear ‘em, but never as good as hearing the originals. We get another cover, ‘Starry Eyes’ by Roky Erickson which works better as it’s further removed from the original and more um, Veronica-y with its rattley tambourine-topped drums and twinklingly strummy dual guitars.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Each time I see this band they seem to have flourished further, and as this set comes to a close, I’m already looking forward to my next Veronica Falls gig – their fabness seems to be increasing exponentially.</span></p> <span class="Apple-style-span" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqAU2Pe5D-CBZXZ4XH3z3YhQIJF0BEAF4WcYM7KMxPgU6AoMU6zPQhslV4cuSVSojgVWkpDaVpI9DQpQy9zggmdk78u_1zQBH4jXS2_oOkSwGNF15JwpElUYsSVdWj62QGEpySen1EPuU/s1600/loft.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqAU2Pe5D-CBZXZ4XH3z3YhQIJF0BEAF4WcYM7KMxPgU6AoMU6zPQhslV4cuSVSojgVWkpDaVpI9DQpQy9zggmdk78u_1zQBH4jXS2_oOkSwGNF15JwpElUYsSVdWj62QGEpySen1EPuU/s320/loft.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565364045631934194" /></a> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span>The Loft's Pete Astor is apparently an academic these days, and he certainly looks the part, in hip-prof glasses. Happily he and his fellow Loft men</span><span style="color:red"> </span><span>attack their back catalogue with ferocity, showing that old geezers with old songs can still be vital and relevant and not dull old liven-up-granddads searching for their glory days. Astor and Andy Strickland’s guitars crackle. It all goes a tad mid-tempo in the middle, but never mind ‘cos here comes ‘Why Does The Rain’ whee! I love this song and drift into a haze of ‘ooh it’s 1986 blimey!’ jangle-dreams. The old-faves-ometer is revved up further for set-closer ‘Up The Hill And Down The Slope’ which is fleet and firey and sets Comet Gain to dancing in the corner and waving their brollies in the air like they just don’t care. Which they don’t…</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Sean Fortuna Pop has given Comet Gain weak beer in an attempt to keep them sober long enough for them to ‘headline’. I’m not sure that ruse has worked so well as they amble on and, by way of an introduction, David Feck sings a rambling stream of (un)consciousness in an amusingly feeble meandering voice…but then they’re off speeding into ‘Say Yes! To International Socialism’. Woo! Comet Gain are never less than highly entertaining even if they barely play a note, but when the songs come whooshing in like this and you’re caught up in their righteous, indignant flow there’s little that can touch them. Of course there’s plenty of dipshit arsing about in between songs, at one point Feck is tortuously tuning up until Jon Slade decides, “That’s good enough for this song”.</span></p> <span class="Apple-style-span" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjVOId15VSV6nvKt-UsPpt-DjYxK8RODrByjoMG-dQSxGioEMmSCcM-fY6Un9bDlVTaAcwUfDYttFOSXWsrnhhCJZ2g5jat7ejZFu0Qp9tt-0fLI-14BG0u1n3VzSL3l8R5T59a9q4Sig/s1600/cometg.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjVOId15VSV6nvKt-UsPpt-DjYxK8RODrByjoMG-dQSxGioEMmSCcM-fY6Un9bDlVTaAcwUfDYttFOSXWsrnhhCJZ2g5jat7ejZFu0Qp9tt-0fLI-14BG0u1n3VzSL3l8R5T59a9q4Sig/s320/cometg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565364282369863714" /></a> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >There have been murmurings about how Comet Gain are an odd choice of headliner, which Feck addresses by comparing the evening to an episode of ‘Come Dine With Me’. We’ve had the exciting starter of Veronica Falls – ‘scallops and er, kiwi fruit’, then the delicious roast dinner main course of The Loft and now the ‘disappointing dessert’ of Comet Gain, like ‘custard with skin on’.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >But then there’s ‘The Fists In The Pocket’ making your stomach rollercoaster and your ears pop, and Ben Phillipson coming along to add vocal harmonies and the whole set sounding scratchy and angry and punk scuffed.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >The audience shouts out for ‘Movies’ to be played as an encore, to Feck’s consternation as he can’t remember the chords. The band starts playing anyhoo leading to some very amusing non-remembrance of chords irritation where Feck keeps hissing at the band to stop playing and they ignore him. Eventually the right chords find their way back into Feck’s brain and out of his fingers and the song grows and warps, morphing into, amongst other things, ‘Mr Pharmacist’ until it is finally laid to rest. Feck miraculously manages to do a sort of outro to proceedings sung in the same wavering voice in which he began. Poetic symmetry.</span></p><div><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" target="_blank"></a></div>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-9532673088843729492011-01-01T19:08:00.004+00:002011-01-01T19:19:51.662+00:00Albums of 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJngrjYIxSjzmSfia6wBPpMwm3ETaFh4t5Mode2A9jovezbHr5xA5s5FyHfF_KXorlMcKp8um0fEY5dYGPhLBJvQEsAXksLXUVVS3crfNdJc7Xf24eytWt92txGLNF3jBDbqtY56LJ7Mg/s1600/20102.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 352px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJngrjYIxSjzmSfia6wBPpMwm3ETaFh4t5Mode2A9jovezbHr5xA5s5FyHfF_KXorlMcKp8um0fEY5dYGPhLBJvQEsAXksLXUVVS3crfNdJc7Xf24eytWt92txGLNF3jBDbqtY56LJ7Mg/s400/20102.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557298431418780434" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Teatime Favourites </b>– Betty And The Werewolves<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Everything And More </b>– Dolly Mixture<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Phosphene Dream </b>– The Black Angels<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Mind How You Go (Revised edition) </b>– The <st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">Advisory Circle</st1:address></st1:street><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Cursed! </b>- The Specific Heats<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Rough Trade Shops Psych Folk 10 </b>– Various<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Voice Of The Seven Thunders -</b> Voice Of The Seven Thunders<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Halcyon Digest </b>– Deerhunter<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Before Today </b>- Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Innerspeaker </b>- Tame Impla<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Steeple </b>- Wolf People<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Skit I Allt</b> - Dungen<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Life! Death! Prizes! </b>– Shrag<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>I Will Be </b>- Dum Dum Girls<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Shadows </b>– Teenage Fanclub<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Dream Get Together</b> – Citay<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Crazy For You </b>– <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Best</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Coast</st1:placetype></st1:place><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" ><b>Celeste </b>– The Soundcarriers<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span lang="EN-AU"><b>Places - </b><st1:place st="on">Hong Kong</st1:place> In The 60s (download for free! at Bandcamp</span><span lang="EN-AU"> <a href="http://hongkonginthe60s.bandcamp.com/" target="_blank">hongkonginthe60s.bandcamp.com</a></span><span lang="EN-AU">)</span></span><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold; "><o:p></o:p></span></p><p></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-92061465322109704442010-12-30T19:04:00.001+00:002011-01-01T19:07:21.583+00:00My voice is quiet but my thoughts are loud. Fave Tunes Nov/Dec 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD2TZsJcM6NPfaPCYIWmjCBls8Q2oHbPp1SiPrKrfWAFq-kfVWlODcDC9ifnQc2NGaX32oPc_vu3y-tQMr2TRKD02pztHtRQe4o5QI2iOdLz3M5EQVwmeiyIpPLsojSw_O4wRua8updQA/s1600/snowfringe.gif"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 197px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD2TZsJcM6NPfaPCYIWmjCBls8Q2oHbPp1SiPrKrfWAFq-kfVWlODcDC9ifnQc2NGaX32oPc_vu3y-tQMr2TRKD02pztHtRQe4o5QI2iOdLz3M5EQVwmeiyIpPLsojSw_O4wRua8updQA/s400/snowfringe.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557295977831740322" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">Shake The Shackles – <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Crystal</st1:place></st1:city> Stilts</span></b><span lang="EN-AU"> Excellently titled mopey garage<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">One By One From Dorney Reach - Wolf People </span></b><span lang="EN-AU">Led Zep monstrousness<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">Bright Lit Blue Skies – Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti </span></b><span lang="EN-AU">Sounds like the title says. Also sounds like SFA<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">Exploring The Landscape - <st1:place st="on">Hong Kong</st1:place> In The 60s </span></b><span lang="EN-AU">A 70s childhood car journey as spring turns to summer<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><st1:placename st="on"><b><span lang="EN-AU">Icy</span></b></st1:placename><b><span lang="EN-AU"> <st1:placetype st="on">Lakes</st1:placetype> – <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Surf</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">City</st1:placetype></st1:place></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"> Doesn’t sound that icy, but does sound like Echo And The Bunnymen trying to be Deerhunter<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">Goodbye - <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Best</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Coast</st1:placetype></st1:place> </span></b><span lang="EN-AU">Singsong bratty cuteness with good thumpy drums and the line, ‘I wish my cat could talk’<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">Silbury Sands – Wolf People </span></b><span lang="EN-AU">If you don’t feel the need to headbang to this you are very wrong<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">Write About Love - Belle And Sebastian </span></b><span lang="EN-AU">A v. groovy beat tune<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">Sophie Softly - Gruff Rhys </span></b><span lang="EN-AU">Sugary folk-pop-sike, “She breakfasted on orange flakes and purple pop”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span lang="EN-AU">No Strength - The Cavalcade </span></b><span lang="EN-AU">Summer days gentle popiness then fab fizzing fuzz bit mysteriously appears <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Mirrors – Crocodiles</span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" > For the very exciting Krautrocking intro</span><span class="Apple-style-span" ><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-2404357634241566732010-12-20T18:19:00.018+00:002010-12-31T18:45:50.339+00:00Gruff Rhys / H. Hawkline – 26 November 2010, Toynbee Studios<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >We haven’t been to Toynbee Hall since the beloved Arts Café, scene of many a top pop happening, was closed. So it’s weird to find that our former groovy gig place is now merely the bar in which us Gruff Rhys ‘aficionados’ are expected to gather as we await the opening of the doors that lead into Toynbee Studios and tonight’s show. It’s even more of a surprise to find that beyond those doors there’s this really nice little theatre, with red velvet chairs and a big stage and everything. Was this hidden gem lurking back here all those times we crammed ourselves into the Arts Café defying health and safety and the fire officer? <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >We settle in our seats for the support band H. Hawkline, who include alongside Mr H himself, Sweet Baboo on bass. Due to not setting out for the gig until quite late they have opted not to bring a keyboard with them, so we are treated to a scuffed and garagey set. The whole caboodle is endearingly, eccentricly groovy, but the stand out song is ‘Hells Bells’ with its Jonathan Richman vocals, Velvets at their crunchy garage-iest chug, deeply fuzzy guitar AND a false ending.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" a="" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXhi59kPihv6tP5yDahb4uJNgAaOpfo2IEjOSi0YGZ_wTtlILIqUG7YzfUcfiX_5-eX4nqgqjW6BkmLwPxW-u7a-zdqR0ddGtuOicJf7N9RLISuzs9vlQ-r-BioLan6EWgRf7Ics3Vm14/s1600/gruff2.jpg" ><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXhi59kPihv6tP5yDahb4uJNgAaOpfo2IEjOSi0YGZ_wTtlILIqUG7YzfUcfiX_5-eX4nqgqjW6BkmLwPxW-u7a-zdqR0ddGtuOicJf7N9RLISuzs9vlQ-r-BioLan6EWgRf7Ics3Vm14/s320/gruff2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556913997420256946" />Burbling away half to himself, clad in a ‘Christmas jumper’ that only he could make alluring, Gruff Rhys’ solo show essentially involves watching a loveable eccentric pottering about in his shed. Spread before him is a table full of gizmos to be employed in piecing together his fine array of songs.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" >Before he gets to play with his toys, we get an utterly sweet-hearted set played on acoustic guitar. This consists of tracks from first album<span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; "> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; ">‘</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" >Yr Atal Genhedlaeth'</span><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" >and songs from the forthcoming ‘Hotel Shampoo’ and is kicked off with the introduction “This song accompanied the genocide scene in a film I was involved with.” There is plenty of this skew-whiff dead-panning throughout the evening. As anyone who’s managed to decipher his on-stage announcements with Super Furries will attest, Rhys is not just a brilliantly creative musician and a pretty face, he’s a bone-dry wit as well.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Amongst the new tracks we get; ‘the first song I’ve written with the word ‘<st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Poland</st1:place></st1:country-region>’ in it’; the short and incredibly sweet bubblegum psych-folk of ‘Sophie Softly’, and the cutely funky ‘Sensations In The Dark’. For the latter, Rhys shuffles along the stage to a dark spot to demonstrate a keyboard with keys that light-up. The lighting man misguidedly illuminates him, so Gruff sweetly asks for the lights to be turned down again, “Er, excuse me, I was trying to get into the dark”. This keyboard of wonderment, we are told, also features a rhythm track that sounds like 'Gangster's <st1:place st="on">Paradise</st1:place>' by Coolio. For the purposes of the song, it gets sped up. The adorable, shivery single ‘Shark Ridden Waters’ becomes an entirely different beast played acoustically with just a one note drone from a er, droney box as accompaniment, eerie and wistful.</span></p> <span class="Apple-style-span" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDhg157pUItZxxefaxmthoSXkCJgWNrU4FJ95iLa2O_LfR7zp6oUNs8i0lgQp0JIBsJUgPXiQu1_I8syXHHSHBHGDEtx1QWvorkonyVTIypQ-OdghrsAMky6pTKpIr1UCNUdd73VdKRFk/s1600/gruff6.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 261px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDhg157pUItZxxefaxmthoSXkCJgWNrU4FJ95iLa2O_LfR7zp6oUNs8i0lgQp0JIBsJUgPXiQu1_I8syXHHSHBHGDEtx1QWvorkonyVTIypQ-OdghrsAMky6pTKpIr1UCNUdd73VdKRFk/s320/gruff6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556914408833342450" /></a> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >The first half of the set over, Rhys settles down at the table amongst the bird song albums, children’s percussion instruments, LED drumsticks, decks, metronome and other unidentified noise-making implements to introduce us to his ‘chat show’ entitled ‘Resist Phoney Encores’. The first guest (accompanied by his own ‘theme song’ as Rhys slaps a seven inch onto a turntable), is Sweet Baboo singing ‘Twelve Carrots of Love’ in his inimitable cracked country way.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Next guest, introduced with a spot of Krautrock as her theme tune, is Lisa Jen. She ices frosty clear vocals over “Lonesome Words”, managing to make a simple song with acoustic guitar, metronome and Rhys’ singing into something ethereally beautiful. Jen stays to add her voice to a selection of tunes from Candylion; a brief clap-along assault on 'Gyrru Gyrru Gyrru' a toe-tapping ‘Court Of King Arthur’. The latter, “A song about archaeology, even though I know nothing about it”, gets a reprise when a Scottish voice pipes up from the audience, “Can you play that one again? I was in the toilet”. Gruff obliges with ‘the best bit’ from the middle section of the song and the Scottish bloke is appeased, “Thanks!”</span></p><p></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYYsb2vBNX2sFsS-jCiX0iaP5PyBl-1UL3zqCE0s1tKmE6Htb7iu0MLvtyj-M5COmHWP-u4Uh56UrThKDPq3pGDqM0aNykzTQfW5AMj4XK1oFDpMH6JjNyyRvlwWUoYNFme7s8yXTwQ50/s1600/gruff4.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYYsb2vBNX2sFsS-jCiX0iaP5PyBl-1UL3zqCE0s1tKmE6Htb7iu0MLvtyj-M5COmHWP-u4Uh56UrThKDPq3pGDqM0aNykzTQfW5AMj4XK1oFDpMH6JjNyyRvlwWUoYNFme7s8yXTwQ50/s320/gruff4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556914621842667906" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Rhys makes an attempt at a new song, ‘If We Were Words (We Would Rhyme)’ which he forgot to play during the first half. Jen is encouraged to beat time on a tambourine, but reveals she has never ‘played drums’ apart from when a friend taught her to play the opening to a Faith No More song (she demonstrates this with a bit of air drumming). The song doesn’t get far before Rhys falters, Jen asks, ‘Am I putting you off?’ and the song is abandoned. Happily it makes an appearance later in the encore and is well worth the wait, a lilting, bittersweet waltz.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >‘Cycle Of Violence’ ends with Rhys sampling and looping his own voice, singing harmonies with himself so that the song floats on a layer of vocal drones. These are topped off with a trademark Rhys scream – also sampled into the mix but its inclusion kept mercifully brief – the guy can sing sweetly, but he sure can holler too.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >The room frequently fills with laughter at Rhys’ gnomic comments, there’s obviously a lot of affection for him and his music (with a few sprinklings of lust). This is the happiest, friendliest gig I’ve been to for a long time. And I’ve been to Indietracks.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; ">The final encore sees Rhys joined by all his guests to play Kevin Ayres’ nursery-rhyme-like </span></span><span style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); ">'Religious Experience (</span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; ">Singing a Song in the Morning)', its refrain pretty much sums up our evening, “Don’t even know what I’m singing about, but it makes me feel I feel alright.”</span></span></span></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-40581132938398746102010-12-10T12:27:00.016+00:002010-12-10T14:25:55.796+00:00The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart / 14 Iced Bears / The Zebras – 2 December 2010, 229 The Venue<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqWoMRphPkQpAbP-c3hIxxxeWHPtmBuAJvbKceoes5veQFb6zKMG8qGE9hGAuHNZMZAOtzqPdYwtXK9WlQFkN8KlDGAxhc5GMtSCzeDPb7-GsLPfkPfF1RN4SYum5Z7WaR_E-nfiwA2Lk/s1600/zebras229.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 271px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqWoMRphPkQpAbP-c3hIxxxeWHPtmBuAJvbKceoes5veQFb6zKMG8qGE9hGAuHNZMZAOtzqPdYwtXK9WlQFkN8KlDGAxhc5GMtSCzeDPb7-GsLPfkPfF1RN4SYum5Z7WaR_E-nfiwA2Lk/s320/zebras229.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549034707718312866" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >It’s flippin’ freezing out, but a cockle-warming bill of indiepop delights awaits us at ULU-ish place 229 The Venue, which turns out to have a neck-achingly high stage and an exciting /dusty netherworld beneath that stage which we discover upon lifting the little curtain that hides it. Also, the stage is VERY PRECIOUS and you must never, ever touch it with your grimy, ticket-paying, gig-attending fingers. This is made clear by a bouncer at the front who glares and gestures at any misguided fool who happens to rest a palm upon the stage when taking a photo, or just, you know, standing there enjoying the band.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Anyway, The Zebras are on before we can finish getting in the door, so we rush in as they’re sounding pretty fine even from the cloakroom queue. I’ve been vaguely aware of the band (they played Indietracks a couple of years ago, but we weren’t looking), but hadn’t investigated them. Tonight’s set makes me immediately purchase their e.p. ‘New Ways Of Risking Our Lives’. They make me think of The Go Betweens, not just because they’re Australian, it’s their bright shining sound; big, chiming guitars with a tiny touch of hardness, and lovely things happening when harmonies get sung. The Zebras are soaringly splendid and a rousing way to kick things off.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidIqGDPbMHLbaVUxWRIso8ifrFHXm5P46GHNGoaIX0CXgh3VZx0Xt5wnIrMUPPZzoQFSuqQ2Dqf54njhWDaj0ilhcvKYSY7iHEAcfGaN3JAknLiCZOMPHCmXqEeeh_Ol_2WQbPlneIuhc/s1600/14icedbears229.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidIqGDPbMHLbaVUxWRIso8ifrFHXm5P46GHNGoaIX0CXgh3VZx0Xt5wnIrMUPPZzoQFSuqQ2Dqf54njhWDaj0ilhcvKYSY7iHEAcfGaN3JAknLiCZOMPHCmXqEeeh_Ol_2WQbPlneIuhc/s320/14icedbears229.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549034809154162114" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span">Next, 14 Iced Bears. I have surprised myself by feeling quite excited by this re-emergence of the Iceys. It’s not like I didn’t see them plenty of times in days of yore, but it seems they hold a special place in my heart. I loved 14 Iced Bears because their songs grew from being really quite cutesy/shambly (‘Dolphin Song’ is played) to going kind of spaced ‘n’ slightlydelic (e.g. ‘Mother Sleep’, and don’t forget they’ve been known to cover ‘Interstellar Overdrive’). They play an excellently chosen selection from across their back catalogue that pleases me and the three other people in the room who know all their songs. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small; ">Really, it’s a killer setlist, with the likes of ‘Cut’, ‘Hay Fever’, ‘Dust Remains’, the heart-breaking ‘Sure To See’, fizzing last ever single ‘Hold On’ and yes, ‘Balloon Song’ (this one gets a clutch of indie poppers bobbling about like bubbles in a milkpan). My all time fave ‘Surfacer’ gets an airing with its swooshy sun-addled swoon and the set closes with the thrilling Copey sparkle of ‘World I Love’.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small; ">Rob's vocals are still sweet-hearted and crystal-tipped, but unfortunately the sound is severely bass heavy, with nuances destroyed in the burble.The band seem on good form though, and they are original members (well, if you count late-period guitarist Tim), not just Rob Sekula and some blokes. Rob takes to the stage sensibly snow-shod in wellies – which makes the swirls of dry ice that precede the band’s arrival very amusing indeed.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small; ">I’m not sure 14 Iced Bears have made much of an impression on the youngsters who edge closer to the (very high, must NOT touch) stage in anticipation of the Pains, but you never know, maybe the kids will be inspired to investigate the oldsters’ music. After all, a gaggle of boys next to us gets quite excited when The Smiths are played – singing along with gusto. One of them is wearing a Stone Roses tee-shirt, causing us to contemplate the fact that these persons weren’t even born when our fave bands of the eighties were in their ‘pomp’. It’s like us digging the sixties, excavating the past in search of present day thrills. Mental!</span></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCzh4_bTKizpm3g17hQFsZqbV46uxJoR1L_NygLJ_-34FGxCtyZ_zjRzznD54NQHLnbcqmUtFdxaRo-0dseTLgdlawrwWuIbcEWluqDK_3D_EGGZu_j7dil7mriZloCImf6FzbXsKt7_8/s1600/pains229.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCzh4_bTKizpm3g17hQFsZqbV46uxJoR1L_NygLJ_-34FGxCtyZ_zjRzznD54NQHLnbcqmUtFdxaRo-0dseTLgdlawrwWuIbcEWluqDK_3D_EGGZu_j7dil7mriZloCImf6FzbXsKt7_8/s320/pains229.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549035263803480914" /></span></a> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Talking of present day thrills…hey, hey it’s the Pains! And they are on fine ‘n’ feisty form, playing with a lot more punch than at their slightly weary Heaven show earlier in the year (though maybe not with quite as much ‘vivacity’ as at their secret Buffalo Bar gig in the summer – hoo! that was a firecracker). We realise that this is the third year in a row that we have seen the Pains play a December show – what a fine festive tradition. The set is still pretty similar to that of two years ago – top-loaded with faves: ‘This Love Is Fucking Right’, ‘Young Adult Friction’, ‘Come Saturday’, ‘Everything With You’... We’ve seen the band play these songs quite a lot by now, God knows how many times they must have played them, so hats off to ‘em for still managing to make these oldies but goodies into zippy pop blasts of noisy joy.</span></p><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >We get a sprinkling of new tracks, but not as many as we’d been anticipating – especially after the tantalising array of new songage we got at that <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Buffalo</st1:place></st1:city> Bar show. The set ends, as tradition/drink seems to dictate with us olden folk jumping up and down gleefully to ‘The Pains of Being Pure at Heart’. The encore bit begins with Kip’s sweet, solo take on, ‘Contender’, before a boom-tastic finale of ‘Gentle Sons’ (with the inside of my head singing ‘The Hardest Walk’ along to it) sends us off into the night mufflered up against the cold, ears happily muffled by noisy guitars.</span></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a></div>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-5458271991647628372010-12-10T12:15:00.002+00:002010-12-10T14:23:40.890+00:00Dungen / Wolf People / Jim Molyneux – Islington Academy, 16 November 2010<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Jim Molyneux plays to an exceedingly sparse crowd, but few though we are, we appreciate the way his fingers fly over his accordion. Molyneux plays folk songs old, new and Richard Thompson, and is joined at points by chums on violin, thumpy <span lang="EN">cajón/cuban box drum thingy and for one song, some excellent combined violin playing/clog dancing.</span></span></p> <span class="Apple-style-span"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWHeiPxnvrLgozCnoLlyxIJcdX22s1q58pn0WH3upiAFi7w-jYiDB-U9HM8wia_PwFWtw9_7UCY2uxV-Q9ouO5ES7IdfYXWbZ9aG7itx6L6HJDrE04IIkpd1e4B-lJUS2nqRX2mWbJI6o/s1600/wolfpeople3.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWHeiPxnvrLgozCnoLlyxIJcdX22s1q58pn0WH3upiAFi7w-jYiDB-U9HM8wia_PwFWtw9_7UCY2uxV-Q9ouO5ES7IdfYXWbZ9aG7itx6L6HJDrE04IIkpd1e4B-lJUS2nqRX2mWbJI6o/s320/wolfpeople3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549057646515448386" /></a> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Prog – eww! what? Growing up in the 80s with my musical landscape dictated by the year zero-ness of punk, I avoided prog and all that crazy hippy shit for a v. long time. Psych was okay, but prog? long old rambling guitar solos, stuff about elves and giants? Jeez! Now though, I have accepted prog into my life. Dungen have probably contributed a lot to my appreciation of this long-time maligned form. And Wolf People have helped me see the light too. I am exceedingly pleased that they are playing tonight as I have been digging their fuggily storming LP 'Steeple' a fair old bit. They have lyrics about raising a glass to sulphur skies, and putting arms around the weather. They have heavy guitars with great funky bits, such as the evil truckin’, whole lotta lovin’ ‘One By One From Dorney Reach’. They sound like Yes, Focus and Black Sabbath. When they play ‘Silbury Sands’ people cannot stop themselves head-banging a bit, because it sounds immense and well rockin’. A large, be-stetsoned man air-guitars like a mental and we know what he means.</span></p> <span class="Apple-style-span"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBGz4NVGstlPY1YX4B88rijAK8Z73ExsAJKSYNkQN5cjAgPG09k0Hcn_hGmqwDeQbvIX-wfpdHGFgNgicJPX1Gw5fDaF3YsUjbLEdoqDfdlMMKgt7NTfTPkj3fDLKF7PNDrqkrdEZiFkY/s1600/dungen1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 262px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBGz4NVGstlPY1YX4B88rijAK8Z73ExsAJKSYNkQN5cjAgPG09k0Hcn_hGmqwDeQbvIX-wfpdHGFgNgicJPX1Gw5fDaF3YsUjbLEdoqDfdlMMKgt7NTfTPkj3fDLKF7PNDrqkrdEZiFkY/s320/dungen1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549057862113786338" /></a> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Dungen are flat-out amazing, an act of wonderment, and it’s a massive mystery why this gig isn’t packed to the gunwales. Still, the crowd is eager and fanatical, and the hour-long set speeds by.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Singer / main man Gustav Ejstes twists between sitting centre-stage at the piano, piping wiggily on a flute and jumping up to freak out mightily with a tambourine. Hair bear bunch bass player Mattias hunches over his guitar battling a few amp problems (Wolf People shuffle on discreetly with their amp as a replacement) whilst on the other side of the stage guitarist Reine creates eerie and elegant sounds. The set leans on the jazz-tinged skyscape of latest LP ‘Skit I Allt’.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Dungen sound luminous. Their songs wheel and slide, rhythms glancing and changing, underpinned by Johan Holmegard’s furious, complicated drumming. It’s a pleasure to behold a band playing so skilfully together, and not in a widdly guitar hero way - during the fast bits they skim around each other like swallows on a summer evening. This isn't difficult, chin-rubbing music, this is a band letting their creativity fly whilst keeping a tight hold on the tunes. Sometimes they’re languorous, floating through the skies, sometimes they crunch and fuzz, like on old fave ‘Panda’. The high points (and there are LOADS) are firework displays and cloud bursts. Dazzling.</span></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-89434042429442135692010-11-23T11:38:00.004+00:002010-12-10T14:24:33.791+00:00December Boy -The Loves (Fortuna Pop!)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbp_Vjcwur9RqT3iptsEk8u0lmGBFm-H8cGjYlo7PwOvbIemFeFBJekBw64QR-VX-HRu8-QQ7CQ-lPlQJKOmUwkPbR-1n2jjLyjqriFZxMQHoRcj5K1WVrU7LeY1W_0GrM4kU5csxUOkM/s1600/decboy.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546132755772021618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbp_Vjcwur9RqT3iptsEk8u0lmGBFm-H8cGjYlo7PwOvbIemFeFBJekBw64QR-VX-HRu8-QQ7CQ-lPlQJKOmUwkPbR-1n2jjLyjqriFZxMQHoRcj5K1WVrU7LeY1W_0GrM4kU5csxUOkM/s320/decboy.jpg" /></a><span ><span>And so as The Loves stomp ever closer to the end of their ten year tenure as Britain’s best bubblegum garage soap opera, we find them releasing a REAL HUMDINGER of a tune. I have been thoroughly enjoying ‘December Boy’ every time The Loves play it live and now here it is to cherish as a real life record (limited quantities on pink vinyl!) / ethereal sound file.<br /><br />It’s a huge upbeat pop thing, a big old chimimg wall of sound on which Jenna gets to do a silky swoon of a lead vocal accompanied by Emma Pocketbooks and the erstwhile Liz Love; not to mention ‘real life violins’ and woo! an anthemic key change. Brilliantly, it contains ear-nagging snippets of about a billion other pop hits, e.g. ‘I Don’t Like Mondays’, ‘I Think We’re Alone Now’, ‘The Locomotion’, ‘Total Eclipse Of The Heart’ (yes), as well as the obvious nod to Big Star. Luckily, it’s oh so much more than the sum of its parts, a giant wintery snog with a head full of whirling snow flakes and long lost girl group songs.<br /><br />‘B side’ ‘Bubblegum’ is a todally groovee, shake yer bubble-butt, wig out baby, go-go garage, freak-out frantic, teeteringly unhinged, fuzzed and shrieking pop-sike attack lead by Simon’s slur-y, sleazy, vocal whine. Your nineteenth nervous breakdown never sounded so much fun.<br /><br /></span><a href="http://www.fortunapop.com/release_details.php?cat_no=FPOP101" target="_blank"><span>www.fortunapop.com/release_details.php?cat_no=FPOP101</span></a></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><br /></span>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-91027751819963367442010-10-31T16:43:00.003+00:002010-10-31T16:47:21.694+00:00Give me strength to continue. Fave Tunes Sept /Oct 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRGL4KQfbyx1FYJO-xOzqRq12K97AbEV4DrmTaAsNjXR2A_D6HFZxez8BWC3hPEKvOF89tsQpe3kzaGrp_V80J1pD4cwWQg2cBPpG3CVfxPeTAEc3UzkIYrRQdt2_hHEbnxlzO9nprpVA/s1600/wavy_scarf.gif"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRGL4KQfbyx1FYJO-xOzqRq12K97AbEV4DrmTaAsNjXR2A_D6HFZxez8BWC3hPEKvOF89tsQpe3kzaGrp_V80J1pD4cwWQg2cBPpG3CVfxPeTAEc3UzkIYrRQdt2_hHEbnxlzO9nprpVA/s400/wavy_scarf.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534252349841504930" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When We Go Courting - Shrag </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">V. dance-inducing one note guitar clangalanging, and the line ‘Deep in the darkness of June I dissolved in your room’.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Desire Lines – Deerhunter </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A lush Sunshine Playroom rush</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-AU"></span><b><span lang="EN-AU">Skit I Allt – Dungen </span></b><span lang="EN-AU">Not sure what they’re singing about, but it sounds like Dungen are having a spangly Scando time</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Fountain Stairs – Deerhunter </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">All skyscrapey<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Life’s A Gift (Feel It) – Groovy Uncle </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Really rather more than slightlydelic </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Entrance Song - The Black Angels </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Proper menacing biker psych<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Clear Motive - The Higher State </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Ooh! Byrdsy / <st1:place st="on">Paisley</st1:place> Undergroundish<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Teacher – <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Surf</st1:placename><span style="font-weight:normal"> </span><st1:placetype st="on">City</st1:placetype></st1:place> </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Like a whipped up candyfloss Mary Chain. Yeah!<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Shark Ridden Waters – Gruff Rhys </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Groovie Ghoulies on a cruise. I have to listen to this several times a day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Untitled II – Ulaan Khol </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Monstrous scree of guitar in a noise landslide<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Thee Eager Younger Fraternity Bop pt 2 – Comet Gain (with <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Crystal</st1:city></st1:place> Stilts)</span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Desperate, unhinged handclappin’ pop party.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Hearts Of Love – Crocodiles </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Nasty fuzz with lovely twinkly bits<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Imagine Hearts – Ringo Deathstarr </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Unreconstructed tremolo action. Woobly.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" ><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-47830949074017201712010-10-24T14:01:00.003+01:002010-10-24T14:10:44.329+01:00In Debt - Jonny Cola & The A-Grades (Corporate Records)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8_Gz2ZxtRqw5p3ReT8uJ88NAHT0ed2vusBW_3pawJYdnNrap1qGmYAQ8AkH_Qwz_9WxEz3wXqEXA8oRYzE8nNoP-psDnBE0IzDWww7Pk59-SkwECp8RODB6xCaAl-IjRAO6SPFk3hg3w/s1600/cola.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8_Gz2ZxtRqw5p3ReT8uJ88NAHT0ed2vusBW_3pawJYdnNrap1qGmYAQ8AkH_Qwz_9WxEz3wXqEXA8oRYzE8nNoP-psDnBE0IzDWww7Pk59-SkwECp8RODB6xCaAl-IjRAO6SPFk3hg3w/s320/cola.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531598535373240514" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Jonny Cola & The A-Grades are bastards. Their idea of quirky promotional material is a letter with FINAL NOTICE typed large across the top – so at first glance your heart leaps into your mouth, argh! what? Oh ha ha, the album is called ‘In Debt’.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And your hammering heart isn’t allowed a moment’s respite ‘cos ‘In Debt’ is stuffed with sparkling, strutting glam-Brit pop. Imagine that Britpop hadn’t become a sorry, degraded thing. That the initial shine and shiver had led to euphoric epiphanies and perfectly puckered pop kisses in a starburst universe where guitars scrawled and caterwauled like alleycats. That kind of thing. </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Alex’s rather fine voice - a little clipped and Bowie-ish here, glammily sneering there - is shown off to full swooning advantage on slow-burn anthemic opener, ‘Fireworks / Gunshots’, an urban torch song that bursts into beautiful bombast, guitars squiggling all over, setting the tone for this album of rocked-up grubby glam.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A double-handed attack from A-Grade guitar heroes </span></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black;mso-bidi-font-weight:bold"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Mauro Venegas and</span></span></span></span><span style="color:black;mso-bidi-font-weight:bold"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Jez Leather</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> powers the songs along, guitars slashing ‘n’ sneering, hurtling between full-on widdly skree bits, skydiving shimmers and strutting, fuzzed up, headstocks-akimbo riffing.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The glorious ‘Postcode Wars’ speaks of floaty shirts, fly-away scarves and dubiously dyed hair and is a teensy bit disco. Get the louche bass in the chorus, oh yes! ‘Greenhouse’ is deliciously hips-out-of-joint funky. ‘Offline’ is a fist in your face squall of feedback and ferocity, and the darkly luxuriant ‘Hideaway 37’ shivers with strategically placed glitter.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But the elation is cast with shadows, even as the chorus of ‘</span></span></span><st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Marlborough Road</span></span></span></st1:address></st1:street><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">’ soars skyward, pulling your heart along in its vapour stream, Alex is singing, “I fell apart on </span></span></span><st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Marlborough Road</span></span></span></st1:address></st1:street><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">”. And is that a slightly barbed remark I detect in stompy, snarly, snarky single ‘The Party’s Over’? “We</span></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">might as well move to </span></span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Luxembourg</span></span></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, though not for the sake of your bank account”.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">For all the pose-striking and pop heroics, ‘In Debt’ has a ferocity of intent, an underlying defiant anger. It’s an album that delivers viciously glamorous battle songs for fighting back against the gloom. A useful arsenal in these dark times.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www.jonnycolaandtheagrades.net/" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">www.jonnycolaandtheagrades.net</span></span></a></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www.myspace.com/jonnycolaandtheagrades" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">www.myspace.com/jonnycolaandtheagrades</span></span></span></a></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-47611384654602863742010-09-30T16:30:00.001+01:002010-09-30T16:32:19.144+01:00Indietracks - 23 - 25 July 2010, Midland Railway Centre<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Oh look, my Indietracks review has been sitting half-writ on a memory stick for ages. Waste not, want not though, now the dark nights are drawing in, let’s relive the summer. Yeah. That’s what we’re doing.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUnNP4-hgziILugMe2SvlJUSMLjLv7ATu8ApBUv-1bxDara0tnv39Eh_zZ7dmn53_sqYkBgRgtH4YHj9dubcKZyOnBmiCmQnVZFXlIPjwG3B-JLWtSWdLZGTJ_fv4RzB0Tkvg23mi8YtE/s1600/betty8.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Friday</span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Woo! We are going for all three days of Indietracks this year. Checking in at our Premier Inn (ooh! get us!) there’s time to greet The Specific Heats who have just arrived back from a fruitless laundrette search before we zoom of into the gauzy haze of a sunkissed July eve in search of pop thrills. A few hundred metres up the road from the Indietracks site, one of our car windows explodes. We stand disconsolate by a pile of shattered glass whilst insurance thingies are sorted. Then return to the Travel Inn, pop-free. Doh!</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" >Saturday</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >We get in a steamtrain ride first thing, listening awhile to The Lime Chalks delicate folky songs before settling in a carriage to watch the fields trundle by in the sunshine and to suffer an allergy attack seemingly brought on by the comfy old furnishings. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Back at the festival The Hillfields are opening proceedings on the Indoor Stage with their solid fare of moody jangle – a bit Chameleons-ish in parts? Respect to Rob Hillfield for his acapella vocals on ‘Canvey Island Queen’ – quite a shivery spine moment.</span></span></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDsyZTQN0xoXICtP9-Zsa0gZmv8pbbx4eHVR9iaLpPgLWlGKila6PMJxxrGb1xhmQaE2-mHwUSkOnkHylnhYM7u-dogQeyyjCbeYdPWsXSZYnaf6SEbr7zERyinT3LeY6MRkP6dM-aKrM/s1600/betty8.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDsyZTQN0xoXICtP9-Zsa0gZmv8pbbx4eHVR9iaLpPgLWlGKila6PMJxxrGb1xhmQaE2-mHwUSkOnkHylnhYM7u-dogQeyyjCbeYdPWsXSZYnaf6SEbr7zERyinT3LeY6MRkP6dM-aKrM/s320/betty8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522727465403631026" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Next, a discovery. The Felt Tips, who I have down as a band to investigate, turn out to be great. Twangly, spangly guitars (alright, they jangle) race by and snatch your heart, Scottish accented vocals sing entertaining stories. With rudeness! There is also touching hilarity to be found in ‘Dear Morrissey’, the story of a fading hero, sung in the style of that hero, “At a rate that’s inverse to your increasing girth, I am losing my interest in you”.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Over on the Main Stage, This Many Boyfriends are EXCITED. They have party poppers and do half-arsed jumps, but we have to wriggle away from their shamblerific funpop to ensconce ourselves on a wooden pew for double church fun. First up: The Give It Ups with their nonsense, sweetly embarrassed indie-popping.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Then it’s Betty And The Werewolves. Due to the band being so ace, loadsa people want to be in the church now, but have to make do with peering sad-eyed through the windows. As ever, B and the Ws are heartwrenchingly, skyscrapingly, joyfully marvellous. They are Happy! They are Noisy! and Fast! with oh so many Tunes, and they still manage to jump up and down despite quite severe space constrictions.</span></span></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpsm0aKvW3Fo0H1XpOUHbnQJauTQQL1yPlL2k5q8BuAcHue22p4143rLJI0_0OF_1XyudkhYUGJd8dj0KuOY3K48xz49Wn72veHQneCNiu4mvAaCnSB-75glvEbit3klsKiM2ZOfYmofM/s1600/justjoans1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpsm0aKvW3Fo0H1XpOUHbnQJauTQQL1yPlL2k5q8BuAcHue22p4143rLJI0_0OF_1XyudkhYUGJd8dj0KuOY3K48xz49Wn72veHQneCNiu4mvAaCnSB-75glvEbit3klsKiM2ZOfYmofM/s320/justjoans1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522726277849648530" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >We rush out of church to get all teary over The Just Joans. Like The Felt Tips, they trade in wry Caledonian vulgarity, but have a satisfying swaying-down-the-pub maudlinism, especially on the bitter-sweet likes of</span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></span></b><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >‘I Won’t Survive’</span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >and of course</span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >set closer ‘What Do We Do Now’. We all sing along with gusto “The bands we loved are dead!” (this isn’t strictly true, as the bands we loved keep peskily reforming – see tonight’s headliners) and truly, there is nary a dry eye in the house by the end.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Oddly, we then see The Smittens doing their cover of</span></span><span style="color: black; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></span></span><span style="color: black; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >‘What Do We Do Now’ during their main stage set. Cleverly, the Main Stage has the effect of making everyone who plays thereon sound fantastic. And so it is with The Smittens tooth-dazzlingly upbeat pop.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >We laze about on the grass to The Orchids. I only ever got round to buying their first seven inch (‘cos it was on Sarah, natch), so I am a little behind on their oeuvre (Oh and there’s that flexi with The Sea Urchins). Luckily they have the good grace to play tracks from that very disc, so I can feel nostalgic to the sounds of ‘</span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Underneath The Window, Underneath The Sink’.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" > Later, I start feeling cold to the sounds of Ballboy and so enjoy their set from a nice chair in a thoughtfully constructed gazebo/library by the tea stall.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Boo! Love Is All have pulled out of their Indoor Stage headliner spot. Hurrah! Tender Trap have stepped in and are thumpingly, tune-bouncingly good fun. One of Amelia’s small daughters can be spotted at the side of the stage singing along with gusto, whilst her mum leads the girl-group charge tambourine ahoy amidst the chunky stand-up drumming and fizzing guitars. We think it’s all over, but there’s an encore. And it’s Talulah Gosh’s ‘My Best Friend’. Aeeeeiiii!!! My friend, T, literally sprints from the bar to the front screaming (T is a man in his 40s) whilst I sing along at the top of my lungs. We are the ghosts of indiepop past!</span></span></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-KvVSDtx0l5KMvSk3DDLpHo1HTsxWnEtou-yEieVgIVzCPpPU9Qe3Sp8ZAWtJcesRTCwAXqXATNBhr1e3-zjSg43XvT8UhlZW-c-exjtMlnhPZj9vqjtVORwaDV2_-_H-Je5rVIwTNTE/s1600/primitives7.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-KvVSDtx0l5KMvSk3DDLpHo1HTsxWnEtou-yEieVgIVzCPpPU9Qe3Sp8ZAWtJcesRTCwAXqXATNBhr1e3-zjSg43XvT8UhlZW-c-exjtMlnhPZj9vqjtVORwaDV2_-_H-Je5rVIwTNTE/s320/primitives7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522726627794173730" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Having enjoyed their fat men moshing Scala set earlier in the year, I stand at the front for The Primitives. Oh look, I just happen to be standing directly in front of </span></span><st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Paul Court</span></span></st1:address></st1:street><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" > and his excellent taste in shirts and pointy boots and cord jeans and argh! What’s that moustache thing?! As a ‘bystander’ suggests, Court is wearing “the facial hair of a man called Raoul”. This ruins my enjoyment of proceedings slightly, as does the sensation that the band are maybe not that comfortable with their headlining status. Still, all the old faves are there to be sung along to gleefully. And </span></span><st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Paul Court</span></span></st1:address></st1:street><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" > is still cool. If I squint a bit.</span></span><o:p></o:p></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-47088172278116815222010-09-30T16:25:00.008+01:002010-09-30T16:35:07.891+01:00<div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span">Indietracks 2010: Sunday</span><br /></b></span></span><div><b><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">An Indietracks wedding! This morning the drummer from Ballboy gets married in the signal box and the happy couple process through an arch of drumsticks. We leave them to their kilts ‘n’ champers and go exploring the Midland Railway hinterlands in a Famous Five type way. The sun shines, butterflies bibble, Thomas the Tank Engine (really) rolls into the station and we go for a wake-up train ride.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh74_4BYGnuAXlysWiWSr2e6TKX7oMmV8eNrJrpI4bEOi3r6IB32gBOEflD2_tFMbHRxpmX2w-TrGAkQQBaQAORimhdUFzqYIPAG2ZfCicph8P-5iMYQE_wFHbBcQJPvCbQP0ojZNVAX3Q/s1600/echo3.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh74_4BYGnuAXlysWiWSr2e6TKX7oMmV8eNrJrpI4bEOi3r6IB32gBOEflD2_tFMbHRxpmX2w-TrGAkQQBaQAORimhdUFzqYIPAG2ZfCicph8P-5iMYQE_wFHbBcQJPvCbQP0ojZNVAX3Q/s320/echo3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522728434747915778" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="display: inline !important; "><span style="font-family:Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">On our return, Be Like Pablo (from the Scottish Highlands!) are fizzing up the whizzpop. Or maybe whizzing up the fizzpop. Doing jittery power-poppin’ stuff anyway.</span></span></span></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="display: inline !important; "><span style="font-family:Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">To the church for the ever entertaining Winston Echo and his curious songs about normal things. He is entertainingly harsh with his assembled band, bawling, “Did I say you could sit down!?!” and when Jimmy of The Bobby McGees pokes his head in he is dismissed with, “You’re not as famous as you think! FUCK OFF!’ The set ends with ‘Dracula’s Disco Party’ during which we get to make monster noises, “Grrrr, arrrgh, awoooo! Etc”</span></span></span></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="display: inline !important; "><span style="font-family:Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We sadly forgo The Cavalcade (seen ‘em before tho – sound divine, look like fuck all) in order to scoff a veg burger whilst it still occurs to us to eat. The scoffing is carried out to the sound of M.J. Hibbert apparently slaying the crowd from the main stage and getting ‘#Happiness’ trending on Twitter – ooh! the future!</span></span></span></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="display: inline !important; "><span style="font-family:Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We are next washed unto the indoor stage on a tide of vodka and ginger beer to await the mighty Specific Heats. Last year they were Discovery of The Festival. This year, they are Most Eagerly Awaited. They rip-roar through a reverbin’ set kickin’ out garage/pop </span></span><span style="color:black"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">songs of fun times/bad times whilst flapping their paisley capes (PAISLEY CAPES!) Over at the back Keira is all a-grin bashing on the drums</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. </span></span><span style="color:black"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Whilst up front Mat swooshes and canters back and forth wrangling his guitar with style. There are no exploding reverb tanks and no broken down guitars and thus it is the best Specific Heats set I have ever seen.</span></span></span></span></p><p></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgg0tYJb_oG_LAAukMdfZszYAlnaH3n3jQLdmxguEoWR5zHGlZovDG-nroXEZzg_KvcFOsZAb6PGt4uWDWhwBtISzVIrHKrQrhkCSAemnmISQsHVFTj54SZVoEKXB0wOp0fAmLexftjs/s1600/loves11.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 204px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgg0tYJb_oG_LAAukMdfZszYAlnaH3n3jQLdmxguEoWR5zHGlZovDG-nroXEZzg_KvcFOsZAb6PGt4uWDWhwBtISzVIrHKrQrhkCSAemnmISQsHVFTj54SZVoEKXB0wOp0fAmLexftjs/s320/loves11.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522728684303838322" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="display: inline !important; "><span style="font-family:Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Now it is time for The Loves all-singing all-dancing (and how!) spectacular on the main stage. A Sense Of Occasion has overcome the band so that they take to the stage to the theme tune from ‘2001 : A Space Odyssey’. They are all dressed in black and white. Simon Love sports a moustache and mighty velvet cape. He hoys footballs at the audience (A Rod Stewart / Uncle Disgusting homage?) For one time only they are rejoined by Liz Love/School. What’s more there are dancing girls ludicrously go-going their way through ‘Bubblegum’ in pink tassly minidresses. A costume-change later the dancers avant garde about to ‘Can You Feel My Heart Beat?’ The songs are as ever a nosebleed pop rush through all your favourite pop history snippets. Then Jesus (Jimmy Bobby McGee again, looking hilarious/disturbing in a ghostie sheet and heart-shaped shades) comes on and gets told off for not taking his cue properly before dancing about with the go-go girls (now in silver bikinis). Come on people, what more do you want?! The Loves are, as ever, a bubbleicious popsike explosion and very funny indeed. You’ll miss ‘em when they’re gone.</span></span></span></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="display: inline !important; "><span style="font-family:Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We leg it to the indoors stage and just manage to catch one and a half Blanche Hudson Weekend songs. Damn! They sound good. I had meant to leave The Loves</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="font-family:Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">halfway through, but just could not tear myself away from the spectacle. And I’m not even interested in breasts.</span></span></span></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="display: inline !important; "><span style="font-family:Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We make a feeble attempt to see The Millipedes LAST EVER show in the church, but after peering forlornly through the windows and hanging about in the queue for a bit we get distracted and disappear down a chatting-with-friends rabbit-hole for quite a (hazy) while. I am vaguely aware that The Cannanes are on the main stage playing to a bewilderingly sparse crowd. When I look up again it’s time for Standard Fare. Who play a heart-gladdening set as it drizzles on our anoraked heads. A mini dust-cloud hovers above the crowd as we stomp along. Especially to ‘Dancing’.</span></span></span></p><p></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1q-Aws_oTYHyKHcmwwyXd54RgNldXS6jaD4kbNfZ-nt2WOgRSORWToUxS5SL5cqECY3oj1zzr5TZYpZzePzoOpxYjnwpKVhK8vjjo7ACyFjxVIfSd9xaieL57-pC5YmhaErfy-Q2JVC8/s1600/shrag3.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1q-Aws_oTYHyKHcmwwyXd54RgNldXS6jaD4kbNfZ-nt2WOgRSORWToUxS5SL5cqECY3oj1zzr5TZYpZzePzoOpxYjnwpKVhK8vjjo7ACyFjxVIfSd9xaieL57-pC5YmhaErfy-Q2JVC8/s320/shrag3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522729139247208978" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="display: inline !important; "><span style="font-family:Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">In the merch tent there are skirts with owls on. More importantly there are advance copies of the new Shrag album. Shrag get mightier every time they play. Here they are on the main stage being VITAL, Helen singing whilst barefoot stamping, guitars scratching and clanging, playing a blood-rush mix of songs old and new, ‘Mark E. Smith’ ‘Ghosts Before Breakfast’ ‘Tights In August’. You can tell they’re the best just from the titles.</span></span></span></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="display: inline !important; "><span style="font-family:Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Pooh Sticks have ‘reformed’ for Indietracks. Cor! This has invited much indie popstrel excitement. We wait, bated breath to see what will emerge onto the Indoor Stage. It is Hue Pooh Stick and some youngish blokes making up the band. And Amelia Fletcher doing added vocals. And it’s fabulous. They are the Indie Cheap Trick (a good thing) pure bubblegum power pop, with so many songs to sing along to, ‘Young People’, ‘Cool in A Crisis’, ‘I Know Someone Who Knows Someone Who Knows Alan McGee Quite Well’. </span></span><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Hue</span></span></st1:place></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> passes out a selection of placards sporting slogans ‘Cool In A Crisis’, ‘Indiepop Ain’t Noise Pollution’. Oh! They play ‘Heroes And Villains’, I’d forgotten about this song, but all the words still come spilling from my mouth. And then there’s ‘On Tape’!!!!! so I sing and stomp righteously, like we never got to do in 1987. Sugar buzz pop high!</span></span></span></p><p></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuj6QiWJzjKEcwWsUWROtIjRXlRjAEoKI0sLYzWbsDoNlDoszLaDcSC6MhfzEdExeBbHmz0h468jJNtEQ4yn2QLBZIKjmbcSqv04J1us5veYMjEfK2sVdVXWOLzoRmdB_oupVrwBdxN8M/s1600/pains8.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuj6QiWJzjKEcwWsUWROtIjRXlRjAEoKI0sLYzWbsDoNlDoszLaDcSC6MhfzEdExeBbHmz0h468jJNtEQ4yn2QLBZIKjmbcSqv04J1us5veYMjEfK2sVdVXWOLzoRmdB_oupVrwBdxN8M/s320/pains8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522729426498860610" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="display: inline !important; "><span style="font-family:Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And so to this year’s kings and queen of Indietracks, The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart. In ‘our’ world where, to quote Darren Hayman, ‘When we say ‘indie music’ we mean Prittstick and Kafka, we mean wool knit and horn rimmed, we mean Xerox and Fender’, the Pains are mighty colossi, poking their heads out into the land of mainstream, being all successful and that. But Indietracks is their spiritual home, we know at heart they belong with ‘us’ and we embrace them for that.</span></span></span></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="display: inline !important; "><span style="font-family:Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">They play a set full of love, starting with Kip’s solo, acoustic rendering of ‘Contender’, fighting their way past initial equipment problems to whisk us up in a fuzzed whirl, as the sky turns pinky-blue to navy to black. ‘This Love Is Fucking Right’ we all sing, ecstatic. The set ends, as ever, with us jumping and shouting along to ‘The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart’…but then there’s lots more – a long old love-in of a set which we end up admiring from the toilet queue.</span></span></span></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And then it’s the end of Indietracks for another year. The last furze of feedback unfurls into the dark and its time to trundle home with pop saturated hearts and whispers of next week’s special secret Pains gig sneaking into our ears.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p></b></div></div>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-10148200195509284892010-09-07T16:15:00.003+01:002010-09-07T16:46:35.947+01:00As for me, I’ll sit and eat a buttercup sandwich. Fave Tunes July/Aug 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixpGWe4naIsorkLUJQeo2m7fVubx4p9bOjwf8pQCxP0X6s96H5-r8kGH4Tpso6m2i-sDy_dA4SqNhRhVQRjePt_XZYvRAzXs9o0JpA7fIpV5ghAxa2W5Dou7w_pGvAbuWKWzYFLw2T_N0/s1600/existentialist.gif"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 198px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixpGWe4naIsorkLUJQeo2m7fVubx4p9bOjwf8pQCxP0X6s96H5-r8kGH4Tpso6m2i-sDy_dA4SqNhRhVQRjePt_XZYvRAzXs9o0JpA7fIpV5ghAxa2W5Dou7w_pGvAbuWKWzYFLw2T_N0/s320/existentialist.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514191819485080114" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Morning Haze – The Soundcarriers </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sounding like, um, a morning haze, albeit in 1967.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Death Rattles – Woods</span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Sparse but warm with rattly guitars, a big old humming bass and a spooky rooms at twilight feel.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><st1:place st="on"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Beachy Head</span></span></span></b></st1:place><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> – Veronica Falls <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Beat-tastic deathwish pop</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Brianna - Speak And The Spells <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; ">Moptops, white jeans, evil guitars, razor blades</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">Seasons Change – The </span></span><st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Advisory Circle</span></span></st1:address></st1:street><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> / </span></span><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Hong Kong</span></span></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> In The 60s </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Early summer mornings and still evenings</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">End Of An Error - The Specific Heats <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; ">Reverbingly perfect hybrid of indiepop and garage</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">2 To The N – Tender Trap <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Ver Trap sounding pretty tough in a damn catchy way</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It Is Not Meant To Be - Tame Impala – </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Floaty and Dungen-like</span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And How! – The Specific Heats </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sunny and jangly and heart-racing<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Baby I’m An Existentialist – The Specific Heats</span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Reverbin’, hand clappin’ garage twistyness<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><b><span lang="EN-AU" style="color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">To B Without A Hitch – </span></span></span></b></span><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Bridget St.</span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">John</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Good old Bridg sounding like a cross between Nico and Nick Drake.</span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Way Out Hermit – Moonkyte</span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Droney, hummy, sitar-spangled psych. Also: ‘Moonkyte’!<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Just War- Dangermouse & Sparklehorse</span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Stick Gruff Rhys singing on pretty much anything and I’m there<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Runway, Houses, City, Clouds – Tame Impala</span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Aaahh! Amazing psychprogjazz wonderment stretching out on a sunkissed afternoon<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Tights In August - Shrag </span></span><o:p></o:p></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; ">Your heart dribbles away as soon as the keyboard comes in and that’s before the song’s even got going</span></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-22269771949265213612010-08-22T13:54:00.014+01:002010-08-22T19:30:52.185+01:00Tapestry Super Sonic Sunday, 4 July 2010, Shenley Park<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5DE3vovSqtYrq_y-UwazU2x8zIR_iUbrM1sC7pF4COT6u0IbHB2E28GglQm2zqnUsFeZ8zMcLUmOXf4VSxtxFIPQVhdFcFz33fcMY9V0NP2Rj5I-MzTKpswrFI7o5_5H4Rr9F-fPaJZA/s1600/tap.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508226072177023698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5DE3vovSqtYrq_y-UwazU2x8zIR_iUbrM1sC7pF4COT6u0IbHB2E28GglQm2zqnUsFeZ8zMcLUmOXf4VSxtxFIPQVhdFcFz33fcMY9V0NP2Rj5I-MzTKpswrFI7o5_5H4Rr9F-fPaJZA/s400/tap.jpg" /></a> <div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">We’re all going on a summer holiday…no we’re not but there is a clapped out red double decker waiting to ‘whisk’ us away for larks ‘n’ hi-jinks in the sunshine. It’s the Tapestry Super Sonic Sunday and after only the smallest amount of confusion (circumnavigating a roundabout three times in a row), we arrive at the ludicrously bucolic Hertfordshire </span><?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /><st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">village</span></st1:placetype><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> of </span><st1:placename st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Shenley.</span></st1:placename></st1:place></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The festival takes place within the idyllic confines of </span></span><st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Shenley</span></span></st1:placename><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><st1:placetype st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Park</span></span></st1:placetype><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><st1:placename st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Walled</span></span></st1:placename><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><st1:placetype st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Garden</span></span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">, which has been landscaped to create a grassy amphitheatre. The ‘DJ Booth’ is a cute ironwork gazebo. In one corner the </span></span><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Hemel Hempstead</span></span></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> Brass band strikes up, filling in the music-free gaps before and after the first couple of bands. They provide a suitably country fete style soundtrack as cheery punters shake out their picnic blankets and peacefully swig their first pints of the day. Ahh, the pints. Everyone’s fave Farringdon joint, The Betsey Trotwood is running the beer tent and truly it is the queen of canvas booze emporia. It’s beautifully laid out, strung with fairy lights, the straw bale bar topped with gingham cloths and ooh! a wooden dresser laden with a selection of fine single malt whiskys (I shall be returning to this later). Instead of flat foamy crap lager there are fine ales and ciders to quaff, e.g. Betsey’s Festivale (a ha ha!) and ‘Barry’s Bitter’ (after organiser and all-round hero Barry Stillwell). We opt for pints of Badgers Scrumpy and Perry in keeping with the rustic theme.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:small;">The heat is oppressive – there’s not a lot of shade amongst the herbaceous borders, so we slap on the factor fifty and watch children doing mental inhibition-free dancing to the first band, The Black List – a local band for local people – who have ventured here from er, Borehamwood. As the Tapestry clientele tends to include numerous 30-40 somethings, there are quite a lot of children here having a high old time. It’s great for them as it’s only a small garden and they can be contained by the wall.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The Hemel Hempstead Brass Band treat us to a bazillion song medley (which includes, erm ‘Jingle Bells’, cheers!) and then Oldboy rampage through some ferocious boogaloo blues. They are led by Pretenders guitarist James Walbourne and his mighty firey axe licks. It all goes a bit seventies dazed and confused (if you ignore the brass band sitting nearby) with vicious boogie - like an amphetamine ZZ Top; low slung blues a la Blue Cheer; country tinged calmer moments, and a fine bit of rockabilly to round things off (this gets an old brass band geezer nodding with approval).</span></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT-qBqlnwuf8uE1QwEhKEpElkjuZ55e61dZ5LCz2ub8NdQUHM15cLXhH-Bft3eFKKB0hcc_tiuD63Tw3-Wz4HnL4LAT4rkhWpSL8Upigdu62RZARmqFymfQeAVpMVTxEdG5jyU5Mdk-2E/s1600/mrbrhymer1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 254px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508226154454450514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT-qBqlnwuf8uE1QwEhKEpElkjuZ55e61dZ5LCz2ub8NdQUHM15cLXhH-Bft3eFKKB0hcc_tiuD63Tw3-Wz4HnL4LAT4rkhWpSL8Upigdu62RZARmqFymfQeAVpMVTxEdG5jyU5Mdk-2E/s320/mrbrhymer1.jpg" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Mister B the Gentleman Rhymer is a whole other kettle of fish. Clad in stripy blazer ‘n’ boater combo, he strums a banjolele and raps in a simply marvellous manner. This is ‘Chap-Hop’ apparently and it really is frightfully good. Tunes include ‘I Say, You! (The Rock Steady Crew)’ and (“what on earth has happened to”) ‘Timothy’ about an old school chum of Mister B’s who has gone rather squiffy “I used to prep with him you see”. If we guess who the song is about, we are told “you may announce it gently in a Sunday afternoon way, if you wish” (it’s Tim Westwood, obv). We are also treated to Mister B’s unique take on a selection of rousing old skool bangin’ choons e.g. ‘Out Of Space’, ‘The Magic Number’, ‘I like To Move It’ &c, &c. Bravo that fellow.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">We lounge in the sun, gossip with friends, peruse the fanzine stall, wander round the garden and read about its history on a handy sign-post (it dates back to </span></span><span class="style101"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">the 16th Century you know)</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">. Whilst this is going on Zun Zun Egui</span></span><b><span style="color:red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">provide a soundtrack of stop-starty art rock with whooshing synths and thunderously funky bass and drums. Sort of Field Music with afro wibbling if you please.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">We are excited to discover an unadvertised addition to the bill in the form of German comedian (yes!) Henning Wehn. His set revolves around English / German stereotypes and the relationship between the two countries. Every now and then he’ll check his watch and announce how many minutes of ‘jolliness’ we have enjoyed so far. We are encouraged to clap along to a cheery German folk song, before being informed it was a favourite of the Nazi’s and is basically saying ‘Kill! Kill! Kill!’ By the end many minutes of jolliness have been accumulated and we feel most efficiently entertained.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">After these laughs, it all goes a tad drear with The Trembling Bells. I like a spot of Fairport Convention-influenced folkie do-lallying, but give me Eighteenth Day Of May (R.I.P) with their tunes and psychy grooviness, over this slightly joyless snooze. I am disappointed as I’d been looking forward to investimagating this lot. Things perk up with the last song’s dirty prog-folk droneyness. Maybe the rest of the set was just an off day? Will try them again sometime.</span></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtYFqjxje3UluSqvj1KDbQXtz8Kue1sfINrZYo8gDxU-FiIiFh7MXWNAceLq6CEf5BciYeU3ymkeBm-x6R8DnNrx-G3T6A1xsMiK-NE6-z8h5EPkM0yfMH_sOiaP4sYNmMvWxphtGuFHk/s1600/jimjones4.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508227595046831826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtYFqjxje3UluSqvj1KDbQXtz8Kue1sfINrZYo8gDxU-FiIiFh7MXWNAceLq6CEf5BciYeU3ymkeBm-x6R8DnNrx-G3T6A1xsMiK-NE6-z8h5EPkM0yfMH_sOiaP4sYNmMvWxphtGuFHk/s320/jimjones4.jpg" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The festival is running early!!!!! What??! When has this ever happened anywhere?</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">To soak up the booze there are organic burgers, Mediterranean salad boxes and an ice cream-dispensing bicycle. NUM! We eat our tea whilst Kitty Daisy And Lewis get the crowd up off their lazy Sunday afternoon arses to jive to their thumping jitterbuggin’ quiff-a-riffic sounds. There’s a good bit with spitty beatboxing, some mean harmonica playing and Lewis knocks out a spot of evil honky tonk piano. At one point, ska legend Eddie “Tan Tan” </span></span><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Thornton</span></span></st1:city></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> leads proceedings, trumpet ahoy - the perfect sunshine soundtrack.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Only now its gone right nippy. We sit on a bench under a hedge to hide from the chill wind and go ahhh! warmth! when the sun peeks out. Luckily, we get ourselves all hot and bothered once The Jim Jones Revue come out to play. You can’t not dance like a loon to the JJR and their rip-snorting, filthily scuzzed rock ‘n’ roll. Best band of the day, oh yeaahhh!</span></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-Y59B8KfAETIDpuBKapMoBXkciwFYf83DpkVa2jf4Db9hOf7x7e0xLqICYtPkfvjADa8oUBXWg2nkda2Zhbpl1Y_Pl-5tw9FmoXqeadZJcqJN2CBMgzvQ0C-Y0aFmR9XRDMO_FoFfcc/s1600/magic.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 223px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508228199052650002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-Y59B8KfAETIDpuBKapMoBXkciwFYf83DpkVa2jf4Db9hOf7x7e0xLqICYtPkfvjADa8oUBXWg2nkda2Zhbpl1Y_Pl-5tw9FmoXqeadZJcqJN2CBMgzvQ0C-Y0aFmR9XRDMO_FoFfcc/s320/magic.jpg" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">It’s blimmin’ freezing now – what happened to the balmy summer eves we’ve been enjoying of late? As The Magic Numbers take to the stage, I take to the Laphroaig, attempting to conjure warmth medicinally. I also try and snuggle into the crowd to leach a bit of body heat whilst the band lead us through songs old and new. Michelle appears to have become a mean rockin’ heeled boot stompin’ mutha, flinging her bass high to give those jams a right good kicking. Angela is poorly, swigging back the cough medicine (er, not in a Codeine way), her voice breaking down so much she has to abandon croaking her way through some bits.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">It’s a warmly received, set, but we’re still chilled to the bone and amble off into the darkness to see if the coach has arrived yet. Eventually it shows up and we charge on alongside ale-addled fellow festivalers, back to the big smoke. The driver insists on playing the radio, even though it’s only partially tuned in so we’re mainly listening to white noise (not in a good way). Shouts of annoyance echo up and down, there’s sweariness and drunken bickering. For a while there, thanks to Barry, we were a blissed out bunch of Londoners getting mellow in the country. Sadly, it didn’t last long.</span></span></p></div>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-26574480692820787952010-07-18T13:32:00.004+01:002010-07-18T13:38:46.900+01:00Dansette Dansette – Tender Trap (Fortuna Pop!)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCFAjSv3Zv9FPwsntm79P421PWKJxhAiusYqFX5kUorhMQLoR_BubDurWWYDxV7oZAdakFqxE6vOaa1zMTeuhe1eks7ZeqM_CI1d9Eoim1H3Ep9v4d-8KkMw04d6dHOWSSHtUubPo3dt0/s1600/dansette.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCFAjSv3Zv9FPwsntm79P421PWKJxhAiusYqFX5kUorhMQLoR_BubDurWWYDxV7oZAdakFqxE6vOaa1zMTeuhe1eks7ZeqM_CI1d9Eoim1H3Ep9v4d-8KkMw04d6dHOWSSHtUubPo3dt0/s320/dansette.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495223427641748850" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Ten years (nearly) and three albums in, it feels like Tender Trap are riding a creative high. Flanked by Elizabeth Morris and Katrina Dixon, Amelia Fletcher has created a modern indiepop girl group. This is not to belittle the rumbling bass and snaggly guitar contributed by long-term Tender Trap blokes Rob and John, but the ladies’ harmonies are truly a driving force on this record, bursting from the songs and layering them with a heart flipping loveliness that transforms the band’s music into something really special.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">‘Dansette Dansette’ is Tender Trap’s homage to and update on the sixties girl group sound. The title track name-checks Sandy Shaw, Leslie Gore and The Supremes, the album is strewn with ‘Be My Baby’ drumbeats, sha la las, ba ba bas, big echoey guitars, all the ingredients that make up the kind of pop hit that’s sung in matching dresses and beehives with co-ordinated hand jiving. Only not, because hurrah! feminism has happened, so we can still thrill to sugar-sweet pop but not have to cringe because ‘girls’ can now write the songs and, you know, do tricky man stuff like play drums and guitars.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">These are big catchy pop songs played with style and wit. Amelia’s silvery voice is sometimes sweet, sometimes rueful, sometimes annoyed (“We’re ready to get mean”). The guitars fuzz and grumble rather dirtily under the rollercoasting, trip-trap tumbling vocals, so one minute you’re going all shivery to the melodies, the next you catch a fizz of feedback and go ‘Yeah!’</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The ba ba bas on the swooning ‘Suddenly’ are er, Heavenly, whilst the guitars crunch and reverberate in a JAMC kinda way. The Jesus And Mary Chain get a shout out (literally) on the wry ‘Do You Want A Boyfriend’, an entertaining gallop that manages to poke fun at indie boys AND inspect the notion of girl-pop en route.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The fabulous ‘Girls With Guns’ smashes dipping and diving three way harmonies up against knee trembling twangling Duane Eddy guitar to exhilarating effect. The urgent ‘2 To The N’, an energetic slice of catchiness pummelled along by some gleeful stand up drumming from Katrina, sees Amelia toying with some elementary maths –as is her want as an economics genius (see also previous album ‘6 Billion People’).</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It’s not all hurtling one-two-three-four fuzzpop though, there’s room for the odd indiepop epic here; the gliding ‘Grand National’ and album closer ‘Capital L’ which manages to gather up all the elements that have gone before and build them into a heart-thumping, heart-cracking wonder that means you than have to go back to the beginning and play the whole record again.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www.fortunapop.com/" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">www.fortunapop.com</span></span></a><span style="font-family:Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-37067310497336328322010-07-08T15:18:00.004+01:002010-07-08T15:28:23.693+01:00Indietracks – Indiepop Compilation 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx3SlEuC5-GMYHghSihBfZHTWClHU9QsMPWqaldAxHr5sw-bos4H2jvmjcBgo8uH5FF6M4dQOoka7MDbHV_fWFkhqZ7K6d5NO6Px1YOGYIm8fQPdiRVV9zs_QaixWj2z-fgudX6rBEJHU/s1600/indietracks10.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx3SlEuC5-GMYHghSihBfZHTWClHU9QsMPWqaldAxHr5sw-bos4H2jvmjcBgo8uH5FF6M4dQOoka7MDbHV_fWFkhqZ7K6d5NO6Px1YOGYIm8fQPdiRVV9zs_QaixWj2z-fgudX6rBEJHU/s320/indietracks10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491542059273246834" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Ooh! Only a couple of weeks until we are once again plunged into Indietracks’ pop art world of waving from steam train windows, doing odd crafts, swigging beer in a retired carriage, lounging on the grass, and seeing fistfuls of thrilling bands. This year the good folks at Indietracks have surpassed themselves with the line-up as this 44 track (yeah, count ‘em why don’t you?) compilation amply demonstrates.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Here you will find current fizz pop darlings in the shape of The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart, Love Is All, Allo Darlin’ and Standard Fare; olden tymes heroes The Pooh Sticks, The Orchids (they done a special new song here!), Secret Shine and The Cannanes. Or you can rootle out new sweet-hearts: The Felt Tips’ charming chiming; Internet Forever’s thumping sparklefest; The Blanche Hudson Weekend’s Blondie/Shop Assistants kiss-up in an echo-chamber.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">CD1 ends with an invigorating shoutalong with Shrag on ‘Ghosts Before Breakfast’ which gets your blood pumping ready for CD2, a killer pop comp that takes in the clattery cape-pop of Veronica Falls, This Many Boyfriends’ jumpalong jittering, reverb-fabulous twanglin’ from The Specific Heats and the heart-swooning delicacy of The Middle Ones. See, indiepop can encompass a wide range of musics, The Millipedes’ wiggy Nuggets garage; a spot of breezy ukulele and trumpet wist-pop from Jam On Bread; The Just Joans’ drolly doleful smut-folk (exclusive track hereon!); gauzy bossa nova from Cineplexx; Betty And The Werewolves’ lollipop girlie-punk; La La Love You’s warp-speed hyper-pop. Not to mention the tremendous leap from the sublime to the ridiculous that is made between </span></span><st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">White</span></span></st1:placename><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><st1:placetype st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Town</span></span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">’s Barretty ‘I Don’t Want To Fall In Love Again’ and M.J Hibbett and The Validator’s ‘We Are The Giant Robots’. It’s comforting to think that if giant robots do arrive to enslave the human race they’ll do it whilst singing this jaunty number.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">There’s no excuse for not getting this record really. It’s great for building up yr festival anticipation. Play it whilst combing your wardrobe for perfect Indietracks outfits (e.g. button badges, excellently patterned frocks, way obscure tee-shirts, little corduroy caps, any kind of vaguely mod threads), or as a Derbyshire-bound road-trip soundtrack. If for some reason (what?) you’re not going to Indietracks, listen to this comp and have yr own in-house festival (stock up on fine ales, veg curry, felt badges and er, old locomotives). Finally, you can listen along whilst reliving your pop sozzled memories, looking at everyone’s Indietracks photos on Flickr and reading their hyper-charged reminiscences on the Anorak Forum. Singing on the platform, swooning in the church, dancing like a loon in front of the main stage…this’ll get your spirits soaring once the whole shebang is (sob!) over.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www.makedoandmendrecords.co.uk/" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">www.makedoandmendrecords.co.uk</span></span></a></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574552965842242153.post-46970379288360673822010-07-07T14:59:00.004+01:002010-07-07T15:03:07.727+01:00You’ve been counting all the meltdowns you’ve been having. Fave Tunes May/June 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJj4C7o3suGnO9zqQrduCQHqL7rAVUR572MWR1JV8KwV3HNO9FJurZzhTqWDOLRJ65ozI7seDYQN0CgNT_NG3pZ2UrJ8b4j7yDqw9S2ELh5qiyIlR3EsU5bZvqG2jW1OUMaRcMio9MFlQ/s1600/windowplants.bmp"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 397px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJj4C7o3suGnO9zqQrduCQHqL7rAVUR572MWR1JV8KwV3HNO9FJurZzhTqWDOLRJ65ozI7seDYQN0CgNT_NG3pZ2UrJ8b4j7yDqw9S2ELh5qiyIlR3EsU5bZvqG2jW1OUMaRcMio9MFlQ/s400/windowplants.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491164242502899282" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Harlequin – Heron </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Incredibly English</span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">folk rock, you can smell the overcast summer afternoons</span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">One Last - Avi Buffalo </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Catchy and wistful and sunny afternoon-ish<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Francis – Betty And The Werewolves</span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Garagey in a Crystal Stilts way, sounds like strawberry ice-cream and regret.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Helicopter – Deerhunter </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Embraces you with soft guitars and soothes away the weariness<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Radio Dept – Never Follow Suit </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Like hearing St Etienne’s ‘Only Love Can Break Your Heart’ through the wall.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Teenage Fanclub – Baby Lee </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">In my head this is called ‘Geddy Lee’. Sounds good when sitting in the front seat on top of a number 8 bus first thing on a summer Saturday.</span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Long Flight – </span></span><st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Future</span></span></st1:placename><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><st1:placetype st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Islands</span></span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Like ‘Sugar’ by My Bloody Valentine playing over an Animal Collective demo.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sweetest Star – Easter Sun </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Deliciously aching indiecountrypsychfolkpop for staring at wispy clouds to.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Song – Turid </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Magical sixties Swedish psychfolk eddying round your ankles<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Great Sky Bear – The </span></span><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Reading</span></span></st1:city></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Rainbow</span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Bratty, scratchy, soar-away pop. Plus the album artwork’s great<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Harmonium – The Soundcarriers </span></span></span></b><span lang="EN-AU"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">United States</span></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> of drifting through the ether.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5574552965842242153" target="_blank"> </a>Kitten Paintinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13238354307869390479noreply@blogger.com0