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. 

Trojan Horse

Live at the Good Ship, Kilburn

17/7/2011

Another day, another Trojan Horse gig. Except this one is different- it's their first foray into our capital for a while, and by a quirk of fate I'm freshly returned from post-prog-math fest 2000 Trees and able to attend. A crushing blow was being unable to attend the Kites/Snear/Horse billing in Manchester last night (though I would suggest being made up for in the form of Charlie Barnes, Three Trapped Tigers and Amplifier, but I digress...), so a chance to see the 'Horse and Kites is most welcome indeed. 

From the word go it's an assured performance of songs that by now will be familiar to anyone that's been following the progress of this band. 'Fire', 'Disciplining the Reserve Army', 'Laces and Racists' and 'Mr. Engels Says' all get played, with 'Laces and Racists' being very much the standout of the material tonight. Nick ends up entangled in his guitar on the floor (was that a wince of pain I saw of beard caught on hardware, I wonder?), and a suitable degree of hardcore chaos encroaches upon what was, until their set at least, quite a civilised event. 

More than usual what is apparent tonight is TH's rock pedigree. Of the bands on the 'Prog Nouveau' scene, they are without a doubt the most 'classic prog' in style, and I'm not the first commentator to come to that conclusion. However, lest we forget, their background lies broadly in the punk scene, and it's a testament to the sheer eclecticism of their album that by choosing different material from it they can remind even as frequent a visitor as I to camp Horse of that fact, topped by a strange pang of surprise. 

Unfortunately, times run behind and I'm unable to stay for Kites' set, instead running down Kilburn high street for a train, making that two Sundays in a row that I catch my train at Waterloo with a minute to spare. Oh commuter belt, you are a harsh mistress. 

Trojan Horse's opener, 'Fire'.

Then and Now: a year in Oceansize gigs....

Oceansize

with Tubelord

Manchester Academy 3

15/11/2010

Rating 5/5

Wow. There are a lot of great gigs happening this month. The latest in the spree I've been to comes courtesy of Oceansize, and boy, was it welcome.

But first, there was Tubelord. Whilst they did put on a mighty effort, and their songs showed some interesting twists and turns, it was all rather business as usual in the we've-bought-some-post-y2k-Sonic-Youth-albums-and-want-to-play-prog camp. Their better passages were reminiscent of the guitar howl of Biffy around Puzzle, with some Errors-esque electronics thrown into the mix, but my overriding impression was of a band not yet fully there. Nevermind.

Of my regrets (and there are many...), in recent times one stands above all else- my rather lukewarm review of the new Oceansize album, the verbose Self Preserved While the Bodies Float Up. On repeat listens of a appropriate quantity (a minimum of twenty, in case you wondered), all of its subtleties really do unfold, and, let's be honest, for 'Silent/Transparent', 'Pine', 'Oscar Acceptance Speech', and 'It's My Tail...' even from play number one the quality was obvious.

This isn't an album review however; this is a live review. After a serious setback to my day, not to mention the unwelcome rain, I arrived in the lowest of spirits only to find the venue had been downgraded from Academy 2 to 3; a venue I really have spent too much of my Manchester life in. I felt a little sad that a band with as extensive a back catalogue and ostensibly as loyal a fanbase hadn't grown in size since their last album, the expansive Frames. Their new album even got 8/10 in the NME, for chrissakes, so where were the punters?

I needn't have worried though, because Oceansize provided an answer to all of my questions. Point by point, it went something like 'Part Cardiac', the rarely-played 'Music for a Nurse', 'It's My Tail...', 'Pine', 'Ornament', 'Women Who Love Men Who Love Drugs'. Let's be honest, I could quote the entire setlist, but those were the highlights. In purest reviewing terms, 'It's My Tail...' won hands down for its frantic, spitting vitriol, echoed in gestures and shouting from the crowd, and framed by a meltdown of strobe lighting. Emotionally, however, it was clear that their lighter-in-the-air moment was 'Music for a Nurse'; looking around, everybody was singing along, and there were even tears in a few eyes. Well, why not? They scarcely come more moving than that. For 'Unfamiliar', some moshing started at the front, whilst handclaps were the order of the day for 'New Pin'. By the time that the circle pit had worn itself out in 'Ornament', it was abundantly clear that both the crowd and band were playing off each other in that special chemical way that only sometimes manifests itself.

Encoring with 'Women Who Love Men...', the band departed one member at a time, and spurred on by the audience keeping a regular clap where the beat had been, their three guitarists kept playing the outro riff. One minute passed. Two. Three. Four. The crowd and band gradually became less distinct as the notes became simpler, less defined, somehow hypnotic; the band were unmoving, the crowd transfixed. Then, suddenly, it was over; like a well-executed crossfade, the guitars left, replaced by cheers that lasted long after the band had left the stage.

I said of the new album that it wasn't the work of the same band that made me decide to move to Manchester. Maybe, maybe not, but that band was definitely the one I saw on stage tonight, and I'm glad I came. 

Oceansize

With Vessels & And So I Watch You From Afar

Manchester Academy 3

2/2/2010

Rating: 4/5

After less than two minutes of the first band on tonight, And So I Watch You From Afar’s set, I already can’t believe that I haven’t heard of them before. Their math rock-meets- heavy grunge sound is so heavy that it rattles the bones, making a mockery of metal posturing, and yet their attitude is still identifiably alt rock, busting out the Sonic Youth stage moves and post-rock delay freakouts. Their last song sounds a little like a post-rock version of Radiohead’s ‘The Tourist’, but it’s ace anyway, so I’ll let them off.

Band two, Vessels, are rather less exciting. The stage becomes crowded with an additional member, and there’s a sense that the five-piece always has one person who is surplus to requirements. They go for a more pronounced math-rock sound, using fewer chords and a lot of modal riffs, blending it with a 65daysofstatic style electronic/shoegazing wall of sound. At times it’s very compelling, but in equal measure it sometimes falls completely flat.

Finally the band of the moment take the stage. They play most of the new Home and Minor EP, as well as some songs off their upcoming album. The best of these is a slower number that gradually builds to a washed out, echoing crescendo, and also worthy of mention is a more downtempo number called ‘Ransoms’ that even features a traditional-style guitar solo. Playing from their extensive back catalogue, the band reach for all three albums, playing ‘Unfamiliar’ from Frames, ‘Massive Bereavement’ from Effloresce (and live a reminder of why this band rightfully deserved more attention than their first record brought them), as well as ‘You Can’t Keep a Bad Man Down’, set highlight ‘Calm Offensive’, and penultimate song ‘A Homage to a Shame’ from Everyone Into Position. Bizarrely, they chose to end on a newer song, that whilst not bad really felt like sticking two fingers to the eager crowd. The two previous times I’ve seen the ‘size, they’ve closed on fan favourites ‘Catalyst’ and ‘Ornament/The Last Wrongs’, so when they left without an encore, the crowd having chanted ‘Catalyst’ excitedly at the band for the last fifteen minutes of their set, the mood in the room definitely took a turn. Even with the disappointing end, it was nevertheless a great set. Roll on album four!

 

Imogen Heap Strikes Back...

(This picture is nothing to do with me, I just got it off the internets)

Imogen Heap

Royal Albert Hall

5th November 2010

Rating: 5/5

Once again I found myself at an Imogen Heap gig, and since I don't own any albums I'm sitting there, vaguely wondering whether the thirty pounds plus train fare was going to be worth it. Was she really that good last time, or is it just my memory playing tricks on me?

For the first set, pre-interval, the orchestra takes their places and the maestro enters, complete with sequinned conductor's jacket. What follows is a film entitled Love the Earth, and, as is her wont, the film has been compiled by fans, with Imogen writing the score whilst on her most recent tour.

Her first attempt at audience-participation falls a bit short, as the crowd don't really seem to get into it, or even try at all. This is a bit of a shame, as it's kind of the trademark of her shows, as well as the fact that drone notes are cool. Anyway, as the only person in my area of the crowd under thirty, and judging by the number of bottles of fifty quid champagne I saw bought at the bar, I get the feeling a lot of people here think themselves a little above it all. Their loss.

The orchestral pieces that follow vary in interest and intensity; undoubtedly the most cacophanous is the crescendo to passage 8 ('Beauty') as a horn section rudely enters the mix and very much renders the sweeping strings below reminiscent of Takk-era Sigur Rós. The highlight of the entire piece is the gripping 5b ('Unseen') that begins with an acoustic guitar in much the same vein as 'The Bell' by Mike Oldfield, before gradually bulldozing away every instrument present with percussion and orchestral flourishes. It's absolutely breathtaking, and since I assume the whole show is being filmed for a future release, I'm sure you'll get the chance to see what I mean before long.

When passage 1b comes back, the crowd actually attempt to sing the drone note and add the whispers that Imogen requests (maybe that champagne has hit the mark by now?), and the effect is remarkable, especially in a building with the acoustics of the Royal Albert Hall.

With that, she's done, and there's an interval before her main set.

Returning for her main set, I'm instantly reminded of why I'm here: whatever Imogen sounds like on the record, the fact is that live, she's fronting a rock band. A really weird, weird, rock band, yes, but a rock band nevertheless. It's the sonic experimentation of playing such a bizarre plethora of percussion and obscure instruments within the context of this band that makes her live show so arresting, so vital. Bringing in, for example, violins and cello is cool, but it isn't that uncommon- Muse, Smashing Pumpkins, off the top of my head have both gone down that road, and that's before we've even got into the utter pretentious tosh that the Verve were doing with Ashcroft at the helm.

Uhm, where was I? Oh yes. So basically, Imogen Heap is probably the most talented single musician in any kind of musical mainstream right now. Yep, that's right. I can listen to other musicians and kid myself that yeah, sure, with a year off work and a piano/drum kit/glockenspiel/fucking nose flute I could be that good, but I'm just sitting there feeling inadequate on a very deep level, and that's the sign of being confronted with true talent. Don't agree with me? Then I will fight you. Fight Club style- no shirt, no shoes, no belt, no rules.

What did she play? Who cares, it's all good. 'Last Train Home' was a highlight, and 'Tidal' was the best track, as usual, but yes she did play 'Hide and Seek' and 'Speeding Cars', and yes, they were great. Just do yourself a favour and go and see her live. Who gives a shit that they don't sell male t-shirts at the merch desk? You insecure philistines.

"We Will Be Victorious"

or, how my resistance to Muse's The Resistance collapsed...

I guess it was inevitable, really. I remember clearly when Black Holes and Revelations came out, I eagerly slapped on track one, 'Take a Bow'. It wasn't long (about forty seconds, I would guess) before I was cursing Muse, Matt Bellamy, the engineer who mixed the track, and the record label who put the album out. You might say that I was not a fan. Having relegated the album to my 'can't be bothered' pile, I returned to Porcupine Tree's In Absentia and promptly forgot all about their betrayal.

The thing was, I'd already felt that way before- albeit to a lesser degree- when Absolution came out. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I felt that the band were moving away from the space-rock-meets-rage-against-the-machine-with-falsetto-vocals that had made me fall in love with them in the first place. The structures were different, somehow; although 'Stockholm Syndrome' was possibly the heaviest thing (bar 'Dead Star') they'd yet recorded, it still wasn't 'Citizen Erased'. Not only that, but 'Endlessly' had to be the shittest thing they'd committed to tape in their career (I hadn't heard the pre-Muse EP demos at this point, so I didn't know how wrong I was). With a shrug though, I reasoned, "I'll probably end up loving it." And I was right, for here I am, and I do.

The same, of course, was true of the follow-up, Black Holes and Revelations; in fact, not only did I grow to love every track on the album, but I also have a few live bootlegs of it from that tour. It is fair to say that I bloody love it.

Then came The Resistance. "No!" I said, "enough! This time Muse have gone too far!" Subconsciously besieged by all of the early album comparisons between Muse and Queen (pre- Resistance: use of the chromatic scale, which equally was influenced by RATM, and falsetto vocals- see also, Jeff Buckley and Radiohead), it finally became horribly, viscerally real. They finally had taken their 'bombast' (another word beloved of the lazy music press, and printed here for irony's sake only, I promise) to its logical conclusion, and in the Dr. Who theme-esque 'Uprising' had lost me at track one.

I should have just shrugged.

For a few years, Muse had been talking of a project under various guises- a symphony, a theatrical show, an opera; this truly huge project finally emerged as the end of the album in the three-part 'Exogenesis' symphony. It is the single best thing Muse have ever written. Yes, you heard me. Better than 'Coma'. Better than 'Overdue'. Better than 'Citizen Erased'. Better than... you get the idea. Like a virus it spread; from listening to just the last three tracks, I gradually started listening to 'MK Ultra', but still couldn't stomach the rest.

Then came Glastonbury. Safely sandwiched in the Muse hardcore towards the front of the colossal crowd, suddenly the new tracks came alive and I found myself singing along to the mass chant of "EUR-ASIA!" from 'United States of Eurasia' and "We Will Be Victorious!" from 'Uprising'. I left the show thinking that they had worked really well live, and maybe, just maybe, I'd been wrong. When it came time to pack the six CDs I would take backpacking to Morocco with me (yes I still use a CD Walkman, get over it), I found, to my surprise, that The Resistance made the cut. As they say, the rest is history.

..."I Belong To You" is still a piece of shit though. That is the worst thing they've ever done, and will remain so until Matt Bellamy decides to try my patience again.

Now I'm done.

SSD Night #1

Right, so a couple of days ago we had the first Superstar Destroyer night, Let's Kill Music, and we had a pretty full room- I count that as a success... (and we broke even!). In terms of bands, Adam Farnell had to pull out at the last moment due to unforseen circumstances, so Johnny stepped in and played a short set for us- highlights were 'Leaving Home' and 'Midnight Oil', as you might have guessed. Incidentally, if you want to see him Springsteen-style with a band, then come along on the 9th. 

Next was Super Star Destroyer. Uhm, I can't be objective because I play in that band, but even I know it's nonsense. Then again, I think it was a pretty good icebreaker to have a drunken American running around the crowd with a kaoss pad screaming into the mic in Japanese. Maybe. 

Third up were Black Market Serotonin- they turned out to be just as good live as they were on the record. If you need to know more, find the review of their album Something from Nothing on here (I think it's under March), because I could literally talk about this band all day. They were fucking ace, and seeing them gave off probably a similar vibe to seeing Muse in '99. In a fair world, the start of something beautiful.

Then we had Dune; kind of half indie rock, half post-rock, these guys knocked out a set of interesting tunes where one math-y guitar sat layered above tight drum riffs and synth textures, while delayed leads added to the atmosphere of the tracks. The vocals were a little hard to hear for the most part, veering between understated and matter-of-factly spoken word, but I think it's fair to see that everybody who turned up without having heard them before would have come away pleasantly surprised. It's going to be interesting to hear where they go from here, particularly with a few more gigs under their belt to hone and develop their sound. 

Finally, headlining the night were Metamusic. Timings had slipped and it being exam season the room was slowly emptying, so they didn't perhaps get the crowd they really deserved. That said, those that sacked off early may come to regret it. With 2009 being the year of the XX's breakthrough, bands like Metamusic, fusing electronica, progressive and trip hop are going to find themselves ahead of the curve in tastemaking, and I don't see any reason why this young band can't build themselves an audience here and elsewhere if they keep writing songs as good as the ones in their set tonight.

Phew. With a line-up like that it's no wonder the vibe was so good. I've long believed that Manchester is the coolest scene in the country, and it's on nights like tonight, where the most talented of the leftfield Manchester bands all share one bill that I feel vindicated in that belief.

Renegades (Feeder)

With Lights Go Blue

Ruby Lounge, Manchester

27/1/2010

Rating: 4/5

As I got into the venue, I was confronted by what sounded at first like a competent electro-indie band warming the boards for Feeder. When I got to the stage, I was surprised to find that this band, Lights Go Blue, only have two members- singer/guitarist/synth player Alex, and singer/drummer/synth player Raj. The former has a generic indie vocal delivery, but interestingly the latter (besides being an British Asian rock musician, which is always damn gratifying to see- apart from Som and Ravi in My Vitriol, who is there? Anyway…) sounds more like Davey Havoc from AFI. On the record, these guys kind of lose what makes them dynamic- the fact it’s just two of them. Luckily, genre-wise they are nestled squarely between indie and emo so even if it’s not my thing I don’t doubt they’ll go far.

And now the main attraction, Feed- er, I mean Renegades (cough). With a new drummer (Karl Brazil) onboard after Mark Richardson’s return to Skunk Anansie, they have decided to adopt the Renegades moniker and play some shows before returning to the studio. Consequently, most of the setlist was made up of new songs, played as a three-piece. The highlights were ‘White Lines’ and ‘Home’, which I sincerely hope make the new album. My maths may be poor, but with a main set that lasted 45 minutes and a two-song encore, it seems likely that the crowd was party to the new record in its entirety.

At times, the trio were surprisingly sloppy, and at the beginning of one song had to start again three times. This is sort of to be expected with a new drummer, but when Grant admitted they’d only had time for three practices my first thought was “well sort your act out then”. Their set was in spite of this strong for the most part, and plenty of jumping around the small Ruby Lounge stage combined with some zealous fans made for a great atmosphere. Their new material harks back to first album Feeder, coming across very drop-D-fuzz-pedal grunge, which is alright by me.

Introducing a ‘cover’ and dedicating it to their lost drummer Jon Lee, the band played an incendiary version of ‘Tangerine’, the band’s first single from Polythene. When they encored, Grant introduced ‘an oldie’ before launching into ‘Sweet 16’, the opener from their first EP, Swim, and causing a reaction that with a fractionally lower crowd barrier would have been a stage invasion. Closing on an extended ‘Descend’, again from Swim, the band departed, but not before high-fiving the majority of the crowd and giving out all the drinks they had on stage. A lot of people see Feeder as a singles-only band, or, as a friend of mine once described, “a five-out-of-ten band- you couldn’t listen to a whole album”. I disagree; for a time they were one of my favourite bands, and after a show like tonight, I can remember why.