Biko Records Acoustic Launch

My Albatross w/ Daniel J Nixon, Stephan Metcalfe and Dan Cropper

UMSU Bar

23/2/2010

Rating: 4/5

First up tonight was Dan Cropper, an acoustic guitar player whose subdued finger-picking style and smooth vocals kicked off the evening to a great start. His excellent singing was at the fore throughout, and the guitar playing never really intruded. In his assured and comfortable performance he no doubt won over some new fans in the audience, and is definitely worth checking out if you have the chance.

Second up, Stephan Metcalfe changed the vibe somewhat. His chord-based, rhythmic guitar playing clearly displayed a more pop than folk sensibility. His vocals were less insistent than Dan's and his gravelly yet passive delivery had me in mind of Frank Turner. Anybody looking for a more power-chord-y, acoustic punk artist would do well to have a listen to Stephan's stuff- live as on the record, there is a reassuring consistence in the quality of the tunes he has to offer.

Third was the perennially exceptional Daniel J Nixon. I'm told his songs and vocal delivery bear some similarity to Bright Eyes, but I'm not familiar enough with his stuff to judge. The highlights of his set were 'First Snow of the Winter' and 'Matilda, Please', both of which feature on his recent Turn This Stone EP. Frankly, whatever has to be said about his performance doesn't matter, other than that it was cool and a good representation of the quality of his recorded material.

Finally came the headliners, My Albatross. Their folk-rock balladry translated easily to the acoustic stage, and their rich, practiced vocal harmonies more than made up for the loss of intensity that resulted from the electric-acoustic transition. The highlights of their set were 'Rich Man's Daughter' and recent single 'Live and Live Lonely', which (judging by audience reaction) was a contender for song of the night. Personally, my favourite song was 'Changes', if only for the guitar breakdown at the end where a half-time feel and fantastic vocal melody add up to something truly special. As with every time I see them, I can't help but feel that My Albatross are a band made for much bigger stages than the ones they currently play. A yearly festival goer, I know the kind of tunes that get two thousand people singing along, and the simple fact is that in My Albatross' set these songs abound.

My Albatross play the Studio, Manchester on Friday 26th February.

Daniel J Nixon plays Night & Day on the 2nd March.

Stephan Metcalfe plays Night & Day on the 18th March.

Dean Mcphee/ Chapters

Water Burial/ The Whiteness of the Whale

Split 7"

World in Winter Recordings

Rating: 4/5

Now this is a real treat. If I had a radio show, this would be the hidden gem that I'd throw on just so people could stare at their speakers dumbly. The first track, 'Water Burial', by the exceptional Dean Mcphee, is a drone-heavy, lilting guitar piece that winds its way from the stereo around the room as it plays, filling all the space available. Simply put, it's fucking beautiful, and I urge you to go and check it out.

The 'AA' is just as interesting- the intro almost reminds me of some of the incidental music from the film Sunshine, but it soon develops into a cool drone/shoegazing piece that's almost too pretty for words. Frank Zappa once said something like 'writing about music is like dancing about architecture'. Usually I don't agree, but sometimes I am a little lost, and with this wonderful release I am. Why are you still reading this? GO AND GET A COPY. End of transmission.

Deftones

Saturday Night Wrist

Maverick Records

Rating: 4/5

I once got into a big and surprisingly impassioned argument with one of my girlfriend’s (at the time) best mates as to which was the best Deftones album. He held, as per the orthodox view, that White Pony was their masterwork. Now, I can never understand why even metallers prefer it- White Pony represents a more alt-rock sensibility when compared to the alternative metal of Adrenaline and Around the Fur, not to mention the full-on metal assault of Deftones, the follow up. Yet still they cling to it like a life-raft. I mean sure, the song structures are exceptional, there’s a reasonable degree of variety on offer (within the genre confines) and the singing is breathtaking, but it’s just not that heavy. The thick guitar tones are more reminiscent of the Smashing Pumpkins than Tool, and the relative lack of screaming (save from the riff-heavy ‘Elite’) sets them apart from the Nu-Metal bands they were lazily lumped in with.

My point is that Saturday Night Wrist shares these things in common with White Pony; its layered production, space-rock leanings and alt-rock attitude caused such tension in the band that Steven Carpenter threatened to leave. No wonder; it’s such a departure from the hard metal of Deftones that it doesn’t make sense that their discography should run so. Oh, wait. Enter Team Sleep, Chino’s side project. More Massive Attack than Metallica, their excellent self-titled experimental rock/trip hop album clearly has rubbed off on Chino’s main project. Playing many more guitar credits on the album and notably composing more, Saturday Night Wrist is an assertion of Chino’s development as a songwriter, and it is thus easy to see why tensions would emerge.

So what does it sound like? Well, take White Pony, add a Z-Vex Fuzz Factory and some real spacey delays, as well as some very subtle sampling and keyboard work and you’ve pretty much got it. Highlights are ‘Beware’, with its chilling chorus vocal hook, the anthemic ‘Cherry Waves’, and ‘Xerces’ as well as the more classic ‘Shut up and Drive (Far Away)’-style ‘Mein’ and ‘KimDracula’, arguably the best song on there. The thing is, I love the album for those songs, but fans of the Defs’ harder-hitting fare would be at home with the frantic ‘Rats!Rats!Rats!’, ‘Rapture’ and ludicrously headbangly-heavy ‘Combat’. The opener, ‘Hole in the Earth’ falls somewhere between the two camps and is a fitting opener to set the mood of the album; the only real weak points are the instrumental ‘U, U, D, D, L, R, L, R, A, B, Select, Start’ and the closer ‘Riviere’. Even the disturbed ‘Pink Cellphone’ is not only entertaining but also bizarrely catchy in its glitchy electronica.

The problem then is this: if Saturday Night Wrist is the true spiritual successor to White Pony, then why does everyone hate it so much?

Recent reviews...

Interviews: Dead Confederate, Joe Lally and Amplifier

http://www.highvoltage.org.uk/features.php?id=34
http://www.highvoltage.org.uk/features.php?id=52
http://www.highvoltage.org.uk/features.php?id=133

Reviews

http://www.highvoltage.org.uk/readreview.php?id=149
http://www.highvoltage.org.uk/readreview.php?id=38
http://www.highvoltage.org.uk/readreview.php?id=65
http://www.highvoltage.org.uk/readreview.php?id=78
http://www.highvoltage.org.uk/readreview.php?id=112
http://www.highvoltage.org.uk/readreview.php?id=84
http://www.highvoltage.org.uk/readreview.php?id=92

The most recent stuff I've done for HV, inc. Wolfmother live, Mixtapes & Cellmates, Spoon live and Oh No Ono.
Plus more.
I forget so much these days.
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Massive Attack

Mezzanine

Virgin

Rating: 4/5

Mezzanine, Massive Attack's 1998 masterpiece is like Ok Computer- it's a jumping off point to many different eclectic genres and sub-genres, wrapped up in one accessible pill. Obviously everybody's aware of the massive singles 'Angel' and 'Teardrop'; I'm not for one second going to try and argue that these aren't the album highlights, but casual listeners might miss the true brilliance of this record if they only get as far as the first few tracks.

After 'Dissolved Girl', the album begins to space out, 'progging out' as my housemates and I say. Gone is the immediacy of tracks like 'Inertia Creeps', and in are the beat heavy, sparse songs like 'Man Next Door', 'Black Milk' and 'Group Four'. Best listened to late at night before crashing, it's still (strangely enough) an album I can listen to at midday in the height of summer without it feeling out of place.

The dark electronic sounds were a big departure from their more dub trip-hop Blue Lines and Protection, and they lost a member (Andrew Vowles, a.k.a. Mushroom) as a result. Nevertheless, the layered loops and distorted guitars that drift through these tracks represent a startling shot of orginality, and constant attention to melody puts this album on a plane of its own. In particular, it is a striking 'fuck you' to fellow Bristoleans Portishead, whose dark, atmospheric electronica presaged the mood of this album but failed to match its quality. In short, the defining dark ambient/trip hop record, and an essential for any serious music lover.

Additional listening: 100th Window (Massive Attack), Team Sleep (Team Sleep), Dummy (Portishead)

Tragedy Rocks...

The Story of The Crimea

There is perhaps no other band that to me quite embodies the spirit of rock n' roll as the turbulent Crimea and their enigmatic frontman, Davey Macmanus. A retroactive fan of his previous project, The Crocketts, his second attempt at musical actualization, the 'sound of four cavemen banging kylie', as I believe he once said, far eclipsed even the brilliance of the Welsh Cow Punk legends he previously fronted.

I came into The Crimea through the Lottery Winners on Acid EP, which was a US-only release on Double Dragon. In particular, I can remember the first time I heard 'Opposite Ends'- it sent shivers down my spine, and to this day I can still recite the frantic, rambling lyrics in full. There's a huge jump in lyrical quality (besides the recycled lyrics that many fans have pointed out) from the playfully nuts Crocketts- who granted, did have some moments of lyrical genius-

You say there is no specific story-line
I am just a figure on a stone mountain
I think I'd like to jump and float into the sky
by and by I will reach the bottom
I will be dead and crumpled
Underneath your ten story
High rise flats

and, from 'Explain'

You never explained to me
why you left me standing
alone on my front door
crying out your name in vain

or from 'Tennessee'

'Coz I'm a man
And I stand on top of a hill
My head is high
And my eyes are still
I said don't you know what I want you to see?
I was born on a mountain
In Tennessee
I said I killed my first bear
When I was only three
I was born on a mountain
In Tennessee

All early Crocketts lyrics share this quality- arrogance, recklessness and a continuing context of girls and heartbreak that's never quite lost; though by The Great Brain Robbery, the sophomore that followed We May Be Skinney and Wirey, there is a noticeable improvement in lyrical complexity, the same tactic of simple imagery and self-deprecating anger remains. Observe single, 'Host':

See the little girl in the parking lot
She sits down by my side
She ruins my life
Then she smiles and she sings
When we were young
You were the one
Now we are old
We're out of control
Loser!

So anyway, if you want to listen to some great balladry and (admittedly, very depressing) lyrics, pick up the first Crox album- it's more black-and-white as a record; half aggressive punk, half sinister, lyrically focused tracks that basically showcase Davey's hatred of, well, pretty much everything so far as I can tell. He's not too fond of women ("you say you're a beautiful woman/well I've got something to say/'coz I've been to the factory/where women are made") or men ("you think you're a strong guy/strong guy, strong guy, no you're just small/small and stupid, stupid just small"), but there's still (perhaps only by virtue of their being so young at this point in their career) a bizarre feeling that it's not all so bad by the time 'Blue Dog' winds to a close:

You know I always thought
You were fucking supercool
You and your blue dog

You know I always wondered
Why you're so fucking beautiful
You and your blue dog

Their second album, on the other hand, comes with a new sheen; less raw, more inspired by an attempt at a more lyrically aggressive The Bends, it clearly has record label aspirations at a mainstream breakthrough, but to be honest although it's a lot more accessible than their first it seems absolutely shocking that anyone could aspire to that. I mean, the refrain in Lucifer goes "just because you've blown me, you think you fucking own me"- surely any record label taking on this band had to understand that you accept these guys on their own terms...? Evidently not. It wasn't a big hit, despite mental live performances (I've seen a video of a Crocketts set on this album tour, and Davey swinging from the lighting rig, mic in hand, is the first image that comes to my mind as he screams "I DON'T FUCKING THINK SO!"), and the band were dropped in that mass early 2000s label reorganization that claimed (amongst others) People in Planes and Vex Red as well.

So Davey returns to real life. He stacks shelves. He is a toilet attendant in a London park.

According to the myth, he spends Christmas alone in a barn in Wales.

Songs written at the end of The Crocketts' career, like 'All Conquering' and 'Opposite Ends' begin to take concrete form.

And from out of this chaos The Crimea are formed.

So where was I? Ah, yes. Lottery Winners on Acid. Davey once told me after a gig that the couple on the album cover aren't him and somebody else, but that it's actually his parents "back when they were hippies and not so serious". He was going to elaborate, but then he noticed one of my mates had run off drunkenly chasing an urban fox, and that was that. I honestly don't have time to do a track-by-track of all The Crimea's output, but suffice to say I think I own everything they've ever recorded and warts n' all, I recommend you get your hands on it. This is their masterpiece though- it's the point that the rawness of the Crox meet the sophistication of songwriting that is the hallmark of The Crimea.

By their Warner debut, Tragedy Rocks, their record label had tried to iron out that into a more radio-friendly sound, I suppose. It's still a great album, and with the benefit of not being an angry, self-righteous teenager I've come to accept both the album and the EP versions of the songs as being of equal merit. At the time it was sacrilege to add the sheen, but now I kind of like listening to both.

So what should you listen out for? 'White Russian Galaxy', about drunken teenagers skipping school and hanging out in Davey's park; the titular 'Lottery Winners on Acid', one of the most sincere and fucked-up love songs ever; the Crox-like 'Bombay Sapphire Coma', which got an ace reworking on Secrets of the Witching Hour, and, of course the haunting 'Opposite Ends'. Well, that's the track listing, so yeah. All of these feature on Tragedy Rocks, but that album does also boast the incredible 'Losing My Hair', one of the many Crimea songs about dying, and 'Girl Just Died', a hark-back to The Crox' self-deprecating misogyny.

In terms of style, they've been compared to the Flaming Lips, among others, but I don't really see it. The Guardian once called their songs 'mini-epics'- this is more fitting. It's post-Radiohead distinctly British alt-rock with a blues-rock vibe to the leads that is courtesy of the exceptional Andrew Norton on guitar. By the explosive intro of 'All Conquering', the beginning of their second, Secrets of the Witching Hour, released for free over the internet as a 'fuck you' to the label that dropped them, their sound has taken on a space-rock quality that finally recreates the atmosphere of their incredible live shows. It's also interesting to note that whilst they beat Radiohead to the 'free album' punch by a matter of months, they still didn't get the recognition for it that they deserved, but hey, that's sort of typical of their story.

The real story of this band is on stage though. I first saw them when I was fifteen, at the Windmill in Brixton, followed by twice at the Barfly (pre- and post- Tragedy Rocks), and nearly saw them at Bloomsbury Bowling Lanes (two of my mates got ID'd and thrown out whilst I was in the toilet, so I left too). Over the course of these three years, they increasingly lost the plot live to the point where Davey was closing sets by singing 'Someone's Crying' or 'Opposite Ends' in the middle of the crowd, ending up curled up in a ball on the floor, screaming. I've never seen anyone before or since that put so much of themselves into every show, and it's always something I have to allow for when I review these days. Davey was and is one-of-a-kind, and it's not a fair standard to expect other bands to look up to.

During those days, I met the band several times, including running into Andy in the queue for Secret Machines when we saw them at Shepherd's Bush in London, and I've still got three signed posters, a drumstick, a bunch of 'lottery winners' promo lottery tickets, at least three setlists and a couple of t-shirts, but these physical reminders are nothing next to dancing at the front of gigs to 'Lottery Winners' with all of my mates or screaming out the words to their songs at one another while the band left the stage and played around us.

When they finally played my hometown on their Secrets tour, it had all gone sour. Andy had announced he had had enough, and was leaving; my band back home had broken up, I was a little older, and putting on the Crimea at house parties wasn't acceptable to the people we were hanging out with anymore (hell, it probably never was, but we didn't do it anymore at least). When they pulled the show to support Modest Mouse at a much bigger venue, I sent them an email (which I still regret) having a go about having not repaid our years of being their biggest fans, of traveling up to London for their gigs, paying to get in and getting thrown out anyway (like at Bloomsbury), of always jumping around, always asking them about songs and buying their records and cheering. When they played the rescheduled show, I stood there feeling guilty as I saw the band play, a shadow of their former selves. Davey now stood differently. Less cocksure, less manic, he delivered his sermon and that was that. Andy looked ill-at-ease, and the chemistry wasn't there like before. The band quietly finished the tour and disappeared. Updates on their website stopped, and the dream died.

Except that it didn't. A while ago, videos appeared on Youtube of them playing acoustic at SXSW. A video of them live in Beijing with old collaborator Julz Parker on lead guitar surfaced. Vague demos of a new album appeared on Myspace.

Then, after a low-key christmas show, the website began to be updated again. Promises of a new album and live shows were made.

They've been gone a long time, but it's time for them to return. We're sorry we stopped caring guys, we fucked up. This time may be the last gasp, but we still want to share it. Because The Crimea were never just a band- they were a living entity that refused to die, and as long as they struggle back to the surface, I'll be there to listen.

If we don't believe we are all conquering
How shall we conquer?

Send in the Light Brigade. The Crimea are back, and not a moment too soon.

Busybusybusy...

Ok, so I've recently done some more HV reviews, including the excellent upcoming Tunng album. Got Spoon, Japandroids and God is an Astronaut this month, and Alberta Cross at the beginning of March... add to that the nonsensically huge amount of Biko stuff that needs doing at the moment and the lack of updates seems fair.

If you live in Manchester:

Biko acoustic- UMSU Bar (feat. My Albatross, Daniel J Nixon & others)- 23rd Feb, FREE

Biko launch- Club Academy (feat Dutch Uncles & Charlie Barnes)- 9th March, £5

Word.

My Imogen Heap review for HV can be found here, apparently I am allowed to swear. Ye gods, Pandora's box has been opened:

http://www.highvoltage.org.uk/readreview.php?id=124

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The end of music...?

I remember reading Lester Bangs' review of Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music, where he theorizes that after that record, which Bangs erroneously assumes to be electronically made, rather than created from guitar feedback, music will be taken over by a technological, rather than an artistic impetus.

Whatever the truth of that, it seems true to me at least that most of the bands I really think are still out there pushing the envelope are looking at a huge technological set-up, which is as costly as it is complicated. Thinking about TSM, or SVIIB, does a man have to have two amps and a bank of pedals to create something new? I certainly came to that conclusion largely on my own years ago, and it's telling that the non guitar artists that I've come to respect over the last couple of years have seriously complicated and expensive equipment- Fears and Charlie Barnes to mention two- and in guitar rock, let's not forget just how much kit bands like My Vitriol, Amplifier, Muse and Oceansize use.

I couldn't get this thought out of my head last night as I watched Imogen Heap. I'm not going to talk about the show (it was mind-blowing, and a review will be on HV shortly), but just say that to recreate her songs live required what looked like, at a guess, the following:

1x Moog synth
1x keytar
at least 1 KAOSS Pad
Several sampler pedals/units
Two further keyboards
One computer (presumably a Mac)
Miscellaneous percussion
1x gong
Bespoke microphones

...and that was just her kit. Her band added to that:

percussion
a drum kit
2x acoustic guitar
1x acoustic bass
1x electric guitar
at least three keyboards
numerous pedals and samplers, trigger pads and midi controllers
two microphones
1x cello

Where am I going with this? Well, for a long time I've thought that the start up costs of big amp and decent guitar have put a decidedly middle class bent on rock n' roll in this country. I remember that on the '70s Live In Pompeii concert film, in interview Pink Floyd joke (with probably a little truth) that Dave Gilmour was chosen to fill Syd Barrett's shoes purely because he could afford the equipment needed to do so (at a glance, from the video, a wall of amps, several echo chambers and four-or-so Hiwatt heads). Back to the point: Imogen Heap was one of the only acts I've seen in a long time that actually brought something distinct and new to the table, but if the price tag for doing so is thirty or forty grand, doesn't that price most musicians out?

So no, we're not at the end of music, but has the technological revolution that once democratised music with the internet and cheap recording software now shown its true colours? Only time will tell.

It's an old story, but an interesting read:

http://thedirtistemporary.blogspot.com/2007/08/redcarsgofaster-are-fucking-dead.html

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