2000 Trees 2011

Okay, so this one's been a long time coming, for reasons that are frankly too dull to bother with, so without further ado... 

So, 2000 Trees. Best festival ever. Let's begin with that, as the rest of this is likely to be rather incoherent due to a) being written at a months' distance, or b) how drunk I was during the festival. 

So, the first band we got to was Vessels in the Cave, who managed to pack out the tent with a crowd that was probably bigger than that garnered by either ASIWYFA or Amplifier, the two Cave headliners of the weekend. After a storming set that peaked early with 'Monoform' and 'The Trap', the bar had well and truly been set for the weekend. 

I'm fuzzy on the order, but at some point we also caught the post-hardcore progressive racket of The James Cleaver Quintet, filing them in the 'check out later' pile before seeing (in some order) Charlie Barnes, Jim Lockey and Mojo Fury. The latter, in fact drew quite a small crowd, and it's still frustrating to me that they aren't growing more rapidly, despite their great songs and seemingly perfect run of choice support slots and press. Oh well. 

Then it was onto Dinosaur Pile-Up on the main stage. By this point, a combination of Badger's Bottom and G & T was rapidly rendering me a Total Fucking Liability (I believe that is the technical term); nevertheless I recall a great rendition of 'Hey Man' (or was it 'Broken Knee'?) and a new tune called something like 'Daydream' that needs some more work. Not as triumphant as their ridiculous homecoming show in Leeds earlier in the year (where I had my head split open by Harry's bass in a moshpit), it was still a rad show. 

I've been told that I saw The King Blues. I've also been told that I was singing along to 'Save the World, Get the Girl', so I'm going to assume that it was a great set. However, personally I can't remember anything at all. My memory creeps back in around ASIWYFA's set, where they were ramping through 'Search:Party:Animal' and 'Gang'. Putting in probably the best set of the weekend, ASIWYFA reminded the crowd that while they may well have released the album of the year in Gangs, they are still the same formidable live band that they always were. Moshpits, crowdsurfing (band and crowd) and high fives before encores, goodnights and bars. Lots more bars. 

Then sunlight, confusion, headache and a beer before Ellen & the Escapades on the mainstage, kicking off the Saturday entertainment. At that point, her warm folk songs were exactly what our ragged band needed, and we almost felt ready when skapunks Chewing on Tinfoil took the stage for what turned out to be a really fun set. I think I napped through Zun Zun Egui, dreaming dreams of motorik beats, before catching a bit of The Cape of Good Hope in the Cave. They were good, but a little complex to form an opinion of while hungover and attempting to stop your mind from physically tearing in two, and I've yet to check them out post-festival (add to the long list). 

After that, we wandered back to the main stage to see what all the fuss was about with Islet. 

Okay, so imagine if all the characters from the 'We're All Dickheads' video got together and formed a band. Now imagine if it was about four times as pretentious as the one you're thinking of, with like three drumkits. That still doesn't quite accurately represent the level of absolute pretentious indie dross we're dealing with here. I mean, I don't much like Egyptian Hip Hop, but Islet are almost a different level of wankers. Phil from Metamusic described EHH as 'pretentious wankers with a flanger'; Islet were grah, I can't even be bothered. If you want a positive review of them, look in the NME. If you want the truth, they bought a fucking Neu! album in some dusty record shop and now make pointless, boring, sub- Sonic Youth experimental cack.

When the opportunity presented itself, we fucked off and caught &U&I, who were pretty interesting; heavy and mathy, shot through with that post-hardcore bite you'd expect from a heavier math band. I wasn't too sure about their live show, but I'll keep an eye out for their album, due out some time in the future. After them, Talons; post-rock in a vein that didn't impress me overly when compared to Vessels or ASIWYFA, but didn't more me either. Then, Hawk Eyes, impressing me more in the late afternoon fug than at any previous time I've seen their thrashy guitar antics. 

I stuck around for Japanese Voyeurs, expecting great things on the evidence of their debut, Yolk, and their fine set at ITC 2010... but to be honest they let me down. Rather than a wall-of-sound grunge roar, it was rather more flat, and I left before their set ended in order to catch Three Trapped Tigers. 

Cards on the table, I think with Route One or Die I've found my album of the year, and Three Trapped Tigers never disappoint live. They are just bloody fantastic in every important way, and if you haven't already, you need to buy their record and go to a show. Not should do but need to. 

For the life of me, I can't actually remember what time Charlie Barnes was on in the Leaf Lounge, but he was fucking awesome. Playing a host of new songs, he's finally grown into the frontman he always threatened to become, and has firmly placed both himself and his band into the vacant space left by the recently-deceased Oceansize. More mathy in feel, progressive in length and heavier in attack, his newer material shows two things; firstly, that his experiences of touring, both with his band and Amplifier have deepened his appreciation for dynamics and instrumental interplay in a way that was not felt on his solo debut, and secondly, that the guitar is once again at the fore of his compositions, a welcome change in direction that breathes fresh interest into an already fascinating young career. If Charlie gets this new material out there into the right places, he could easily find himself on the main stage next year, that's my two cents.  

Anyway, after a bit of Frightened Rabbit it was time for Amplifier, who saw out the weekend in a tidal wave of riffs, moshing and sheer awesome. Enough said, really. 

P.S. O mighty Gods of 2000 Trees, next year let's have Brontide and Wot Gorilla? on the bill though, yeah? Cool. 

2000 Trees

Ahoy hoy there. Yes, there have been sparse updates at best, but that's because I'm interning at Mixcloud. So without any further ado, here's a podcast on the 2000 Trees line-up. Enjoy!

2000 Trees! // SSD Podcast #16 by Superstar Destroyer on Mixcloud

HOLY FUCK THIS IS RAD!

Dinosaur Pile-Up - Please Please Me (Beatles Cover) by FriendsVsRecords

yesyesyes.

Obligatory best of 2010 list.

Ok, I know everybody does one of these, but on this occasion I am going to bow to peer pressure and just go with the flow. If you can't, just can't, be doing with the sheer tedium of another self-important, opinionated list, then kindly fuck off. For that matter, what were you even doing here in the first place? Anyway....

THE LIST

1. Geekk – Charlie Barnes

Let's be honest. This was his first time out to bat, and he came out with this fucking album. Jesus, if I didn't give first place to a twenty-one year old writing and recording a prog-pop album with string arrangements, I'd be told by my boss to hand in my pen and gun next time I'm down the station. 

Reading that back almost suggests that its very existence merits it first place; while there's a little truth in that, don't mistake my full meaning for a second- this is a great album, full of songs in varied in mood, style and tempo as can be whilst maintaining the overall consistency that is appropriate for the album format. That's the kicker, of course: this isn't just a great collection of songs, but a great album, and Charlie has, in a perverse way, shown just how intelligent and forward-thinking his music is by working within this supposedly 'outdated' framework and still coming up with something this arresting and innovative.

2. Grappling Hooks- North Atlantic Oscillation

In terms of sheer originality, there is only one contender for the crown: NAO. They are so damn quirky and original, it still shocks me that Kscope had the balls to sign them and put out the album; not only that, but getting Zane Lowe's Radio 1 Record of the Week award fucking blows my mind. Still only a critic's favourite, that's likely to change with album two, which I am ably informed will be released on Kscope next year. Their catchy electronic hooks, which initially belie a much deeper, more progressive- or post- rock feel to the arrangements, draw the listener in, and the substance and quality of the music keeps them engaged. Just a fantastic band in every important way, and one that repays every bit of effort you put into exploring their musical world.

3. Disconnect from Desire – School of Seven Bells

Look, everybody knows School of Seven Bells are phenomenal, but this record confirmed it; a difficult second, that while lacking some of the gleeful experimentalism of Alpinisms (in lieu of greater structure and more traditional songwriting), was still a great record in its own right, and one that can leave us optimistic about album three. Oh, and the artwork was pretty damn cool, too. 

4. Fever - Sleepy Sun 

This record is very fucking simple. It's desert-blues, pure psych freakout nonsense; it's easy to listen to over and over, and the riffs are just as fresh the hundredth time as the first. It makes the list on the basis of a single word: quality. This is a record that oozes quality- couple that with a earnestness about the music (if not the lyrics, which are basically nonsense, as far as I can tell), and it's somehow far superior to the sum of its parts.

5. All Creatures Will Make Merry – Meursault

I was a late convert to the Meursault bandwagon, joining shortly before this record came out. It has so many different aspects to it that the mind boggles; from industrial to shoegaze, via lo-fi folk, and all the more incredible for being recorded in Mr. Toad's living room (look this up and it'll make sense, I promise). I had the good luck of catching them live at Glastonbury festival- where they played a storming set- as well as in Manchester, and the sheer intensity of their live show is such that it actually reflects back on the record on subsequent listens. Whatever genre these guys actually belong in, they should be hailed as Kings.

6. Someone Here is Missing – The Pineapple Thief

As good (in fact better) than either of the last two Porcupine Tree records, the most recent Pineapple Thief LP is everything that is great about modern progressive; splashes of electronics, distortion and delay combined with a deft grasp of songwriting that even allows for all the instruments to be cast aside in favour of sparse acoustic versions. 

In the songs you'll hear echoes of early Cooper Temple Clause, Radiohead, Vex Red, Origin of Symmetry-era Muse, even hints of Mogwai. In particular, if you can get the Extended edition, the album being bookended by the acoustic version of opener 'Nothing at Best' is a delightful contrivance. Overall, it's an album as marked by its technical distinction as its songwriting pedigree; in terms of sheer originality they get beaten, sure, but in terms of the enjoyability or accessibility of this record, they are hard to beat, and I'd not be too surprised if this were my 'most played' album of 2010. 

7. Self-Preserved While the Bodies Float Up - Oceansize

It's very hard for me to be objective about a 'size record, but from initially really disliking this album, I've come around to thinking that maybe it's their best since their masterwork, Everyone Into Position. 'It's My Tail And I'll Chase It If I Want To' is not only the best cut on the record, but may well be my favourite thing they've ever done- it's just fucking mad. 

Back to the record though; I hate using the word 'mature', so, er, it makes them sound old. In a good way. I'm sadly beginning to think that maybe this band will end up never getting the recognition they truly 'deserve', but with Biffy Clyro now fucking massive, and the second generation of bands like In Casino Out drawing influence from them and now starting their own careers, maybe this will change. I sincerely hope it does. 

8. Growing Pains – Dinosaur Pile-Up 

GRUNGEGRUNGEGRUNGEGRRRRRRILOVEGRUNGE. 

Seriously though, the first indication that grunge is coming back, and damn am I ready, especially if it all sounds as good as this. What music writer, musician, or general layabout can't sympathise with lines like "my rock n' roll's been causing all sorts of trouble/bless my poor mother, she always knew something was going on/with her son..."? 

9. The Octopus - Amplifier

This is only so low because the general release is next year (January), but I got mine now, so I slotted it in even though I've not fully marshalled my thoughts enough for a review yet. Its inclusion in this list should convince you of its quality, though. 
 

10. 3am, the Beautiful, the Bittersweet - Fears

This is tacked on the end because I only just realised it came out this year. I've actually had some of the songs for nearly four years, so it almost skipped my mind. It's essentially a download compilation of Terry Abbott's work as Fears, and if I actually counted it as a full album, it'd be at Number One, simple. If you want to know what all the fuss is about, check out my review in the archives, or find a copy of the album and have a listen for yourself. 

Honourable mentions:  

Pale Silver & Shiny Gold - Sad Day for Puppets

SDFP's second turns out to be just as good as their first- a storming grunge-shoegaze concoction whose best cut, 'Monster & the Beast' is up there with the best tracks released this year. Heartbreakingly good.

Small Craft on a Milk Sea – Brian Eno 

How the fuck does he still stay relevant? 'Paleosonic' and 'Two Forms of Anger' prove he's still got it; not only that, but he's got more left to say. 

British Brains (EP) - RIBS

Another first outing, Boston-based RIBS take that industrial-grunge template briefly championed by Vex and TCTC and shake it up with a bunch of stuff that's happened since, not to mention some shades of trip-hop. Were it not an EP, it'd be in the list above. 

Brothers - The Black Keys

Speaking of bands who've 'still got it', there's this. Not as lo-fi as their previous efforts, and perhaps a little less riff-heavy than Thickfreakness, but 'Ex-Girl' is undoubtedly one of my tracks of the year, and for the sheer pop joy of 'Tighten Up' they deserve a shout. 

Scratch My Back - Peter Gabriel

I know it's covers, but it's Peter fuckin' Gabriel, ok? Though there are admittedly a few weak patches (er, 'Street Spirit' what?), it deserves to be here for the covers of Magnetic Fields' 'The Book of Love' and Bowie's 'Heroes', which are so beautiful that they make me stop whatever I'm doing just to listen whenever I hear them. 

Well, that's it. Hope you enjoyed it! Check back in a few days for a review of the elusive Octopus (nearly a week in the making, seriously).

More tracks from Wingman....

The joy of punk and grunge as a guitar player is that you can get four fucking notes and make a song out of them.

The joy of punk and grunge as a listener is when those notes come together through some crazy alchemy into something totally killer.

I've already been ranting about how good they are, but they've got some new tunes out so for fuck's sake check out Wingman (Harry Johns from ORKB's new band when he isn't playing with Dinosaur Pile-Up)!

Seriously!!

http://www.myspace.com/wingmanuk

I know it's been a bit quiet lately, but that's mainly because I've been busy with Fresher's (Welcome?) Week up here in Manchester and a load of dissertation crap that means I actually get to have an honours degree when I graduate. 

I have, however, had the time to do interviews with Exit Calm (online on HV now) and Dinosaur Pile-Up (erm, maybe in the next couple of days), and am probably (fingers crossed) going to be interviewing The Pineapple Thief and Dutch Uncles shortly. 

Anyway, there we are, excuses made. I thought I'd post an article I never quite finished (mainly due to Student Direct's Travel section biting the dust). Yes, I know it's hackish, but that was kind of the point. Why bother writing unless you make it fun?

Morocco for £300, or, how I learned to stop worrying and love bread and water.

Call me Ishmael. Some weeks ago--never mind how long precisely--having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me in England, I thought I would travel about a little and see the North African part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off--then, I account it high time to get backpacking as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the road. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the journey as me.
    There you are, proof that I’m not the only one who gets restless when he’s at a loose end. To quote Steve Coogan in 24 Hour Party People, “if you get it, great, if you don’t… then you should probably read more.” Anyway, what follows is the tale of what happens when you have no money, two weeks with nothing to do, a 1999 Sony CD Walkman, a handful of prog-rock albums, and a propensity for getting food poisoning. Seeing as taking to a ship isn’t really the done or possible thing, I figured Morocco was as good as anywhere. The budget? A mere £300, including flights, and to ensure my fiscal accuracy, I determined that my accountant should accompany me.
    “Where’s our taxi, man?” my accountant asked, as we left the cool mountain stream of the airport for the dead heat of the Marrakech evening. Turned out, of course, that we’d walked straight past the small man with mis-spelled ‘Riad Douzi’ on it, but man found, we headed off into the city, with me attempting to re-learn my long dormant French. “Why are there no seatbelts?” asked my accountant, looking around worriedly at the disorder of traffic in the early evening rush-hour. I translated. The answer came: “so you can fit seven passengers in”. Right. Good thing the speed limit was only sixty-kph-or-so, I thought. Entering the Medina, the roads quickly became all-but impassible to traffic, with several seemingly impossible moments where two cars had to pass resolved by shutting up roadside shops and stalls and moving everybody out of the way. Before too long, we were dumped outside our hostel. We tipped, but evidently not enough; for the first time we encountered a facial gesture that was to become well known to us- “you fucking cheapskates”. Oh well. We were shown around and given tea by a guy called Abdul (more on him later), and set off to find some food.
    We had barely gone twelve paces down the road before my accountant was set upon by hawkers. “English, yes? You want to buy hashish?” Without blinking came the reply, accompanied by a famous gesture- “These aren’t the tourists you’re looking for.” Fighting the confused faces, he continued, “You don’t want to sell me hashish.” As we walked on, he paused a moment, turned, and added thoughtfully, “haram.” Clearly the previous week spent with his nose in an Arabic phrasebook had paid off, for that last comment elicited a “fuck you!”
    Fun fact: in Moroccan Arabic, ‘tramp’ and ‘student’ are almost perfectly assonant. I’d heard a lot of stories before we came about beggars everywhere and aggressive hawkers, but while the hawkers were still there, I found it difficult to spot beggars or homeless anywhere we went- I can only assume that the Moroccan tourist board has been cleaning up or something, because there’s no way during a global recession that Marrakech, dependent on the tourist economy, has less tramps than Manchester. Our friend Abdul suggested that cheap Ryanair flights (a recent development) have extended the length of the tourist season in the country, but I’m not so sure.
    Having done a quick turn around the markets, or souqs (I say quick, but I mean getting repeatedly lost while walking around for a day and a half), we decided to head out desert-wards, catching a bus to Ouarzazate, centre of Morocco’s booming film industry. On our way to the bus station, we picked up some street food, tried to avoid a hawker by speaking German (he switched instantly to flawless, idiomatic German, to which we shrugged and walked off while he chased us), and saw a teenager in a Ché Guevara t-shirt (further evidence of western cultural hegemony). The bus was delayed for an hour while a blazing row was conducted in Arabic, ostensibly about seating arrangements, but also (we think) about smoking on the coach.
   

There was going to be more- jokes about B-Ark, a London rude boy with an Edinburgh accent, general tomfoolery, and of course three or four days of being on bread and water. We got fucked over by National Rail as soon as we got home, too, but that's hardly new is it?