LIVE REVIEWS *2
Dan Le Sac and Scroobius Pip
@ Manchester Roadhouse
Since garnering unexpected commercial success and widespread airplay with their cultural call to arms ‘Thou Shalt Always Kill’, the onus has been on electro hip hop duo Dan Le Sac and Scroobius Pip to follow up their debut single now that they have been thrust into the media spotlight. Arriving to play in Manchester’s sweatiest venue The Roadhouse, the evening was hosted by compere Gideon Conn who proved to be an absolute breath of fresh air; singing songs and drawing pictures of the main acts when not performing himself. His self deprecating style and mellow acoustic hip hop was welcomed by an appreciative audience who, when not outside surreptitiously smoking cigarettes, are normally used to impatient waiting in between acts.
Dan Le Sac and Scroobius Pip, two fellows as tremendously bearded as they are talented. Striding onto the stage, the duo are nothing if not confident in their abilities, especially Pip who has a charisma and stage presence that would be tangible to even the blindest of punters sat in the smallest, darkest corner of the grottiest club in the whole of the land.
They open with the blistering ‘Back From Hell’ before ploughing through a set list that included standout album track Angles as well as an excellent cover of talented urban twat and critics darling Dizzee Rascal’s most famous tune Fix Up Look Sharp. The impressive beatsmanship of Dan Le Sac functions incredibly effectively when combined with Pip’s razor-sharp wit, emotive vocal delivery and sheer honesty that seeks to illustrate and empathise with people about what it’s like to live and work in everyday England today. New single The Beat that My Heart Skipped ably demonstrates the duo’s skills with a relentlessly bouncy and playful beat that leads hopelessly into an irresistibly anthemic chorus. Ending with a raucous second attempt at Thou Shalt Always Kill, Dan Le Sac and Scroobius Pip prove that Hip hop is a beast with many different faces that can translate well to a live atmosphere. It seems that we may be seeing a lot more of them in the future.
James Clarke
Down The Tiny Steps / The Travelling Band / Aidan Smith
@ Manchester Bay Horse
Playing his sweet tunes from a sitting position, and flanked by a man playing a typewriter, no less, Aidan Smith came across as quite the Oxbridge oddball. Before I reached for the nearest copy of Withnail and I however, his charm disintegrated any cynicism. The songs sounded simple, and yet clearly were not, despite Smith’s self-deprecating poise, and little electronic flourishes fleshed out what were cute little narrative folk songs.
As the evening’s hosts (this was the first meet of the newly founded Sideways Saloon night, now monthly), The Travelling Band were greeted like the folk heroes they are swiftly becoming, to the point that even their shambolic tune-ups were watched by an enraptured crowd. Making music that falls anywhere on the folk spectrum from foot-stamping hoedowns to sentimental wistfulness, this performance saw the six-piece in a party mood, with maniacal jazz piano giving a new lease of life to live staple ‘I.N.V.E.R.T.’ Clearly enjoying themselves, a pleasingly infectious chorus of “alone like a desolate icicle” caused almost as many smiles as the bone-shakingly raucous finale of ‘Goodnight Sweet City’. This is a band who have a modern vitality but retain a vintage knack for songwriting.
Glasgow’s Down The Tiny Steps completed the line-up by filling a Beta Band-shaped hole in all our lives. Their opener, ‘Infinitea’, began with a summery, chiming xylophone, and frontman Jonnie drawled “Is this the end of the world or is he fooling around?” in his cosy Scottish burr before everything kicked off into a glorious declaration of lo-fi electro intent. DtTS manage to be acoustic blues, funk and nu-rave (*shudder*) all at once, while still maintaining a lovably daft demeanour. One particularly heartfelt moment was played in a pair of laboratory goggles which had been modified with feathers (“I want to detract from the emotional content of this song with my goggles”, explained Jonnie) to resemble Altern8 at a burlesque night. Not only were they a forcible talent, this band of Celtic jokers were a refreshingly lively spectacle. More synthesized bluesy madness please.
Megan Vaughan
Future of The Left / Victorian English Gentlemens Club / The Holy Orders
@ Hull Adelphi
I don’t think it’s much of a secret that I believe the Holy Orders to be one of the best bands around these parts and god do they deserve everybody’s attention. Of course, they have tendency to endearingly fall apart but their quality always seeps through. This eve the Holy Orders do not crash and burn, neither do all the cylinders fire instead it’s an eerily solid performance, but boy the songs they are more than glorious and one of these days they are really gonna blow people away.
The Victorian English Gentlemens Club play songs that spin and chop like a spinning-choppy thing, a very proficient spinning-choppy thing that can malfunction and occasionally fail to turn the audience into drooling mincemeat. ‘Twas loud and occasionally breath-taking but ultimately a little to passé to really occupy you for any length of time.
If the paragraph above drifted off slightly into the abstract then it’s nothing compared to the lyrical musing of this Welsh band: they paint spectral Lucian Freudesque images of self and societal loathing. Future of The Left smash the consciousness of the room as they blast into album opener, ‘The Lord Hates a Coward’ – it’s a near album perfect rendition, the only difference is it is a hell of a lot bloody louder. On “Fuck The Countryside Alliance” they take a more obvious political angle while maintaining the abstract as they sing “Tories, Tories, thanks for the Tories, you sleep with devils and we wash our hands”. The band grind and brutalise their way through chorus after chorus as they dispense with superfluous verses – leaving the Adelphi sweaty and slain.
Mike Reynolds
High On Fire / Hordes Of Satan / The Freezing Fog
@ Manchester Jabez Clegg
Once upon a time this kind of gig would be filled with the kind of smoke a police officer would caution you for, but you could get away with it due to the fact that everyone else was smoking. That's why between every band this evening the room was half empty as the crowd rushed out for cigarettes and such.
The first band to break up these fag breaks was Manchester's own The Freezing Fog. The sound is fairly standard stoner rock, with influences drawn from the genre's gods Kyuss and Sleep as well as the likes of Black Sabbath, Cathedral and Neurosis. This is no bad thing, as they have good enough tunes to keep things interesting.
Some bands make it difficult to tell whether they've started or whether they're still soundchecking. Hoardes of Satan are the most experimental act on the bill, a two piece using a drum machine and walls of distortion to create some brutal noise. Tunes are thin on the ground but it’s all about the noise coming out of the speakers, and that noise is good.
High on Fire, featuring legendary Sleep guitarist Matt Pike, wasted no time in ripping into their new album Death Is This Communion. Pike is not a natural frontman but has such stage presence that it doesn't matter. He responded with a chuckle when one optimistic punter requested 'Dopesmoker', Sleep’s hour-long bong-fuelled epic, but Pike is not content to live in the shadow of his former band. For a start they’re much faster, and on the basis on this performance the new tracks are more immediate than previous effort Blessed Black Wings, with galloping rhythms and filthy guitars abounding. Pike and his crazy 9 string guitar produces riffs James Hetfield would kill for.
Luke Chant
I Concur / Cardboard Cowboy / The Old House
@ Leeds Packhorse
First off, a confession: I Concur were already in my good books before I arrived this evening, simply by having the gall to try and put a successful gig on in Leeds in August. In spite of their sparse numbers, the assembled throng are treated to a set of studious, massively overdriven art-rock somewhat akin to Six By Seven, particularly on the churning ‘Demons and Slaves’. There are problems: the local quartet’s relentlessly abrasive sonics are not well-served by the PA, and the sound at times descends into a morass of featureless white noise - a shame considering the strength of the songwriting evident on their rather more well-defined debut EP. There’s also the open question of how to play this kind of music without being annoyingly po-faced about it or, swinging too far in the other direction, gimmicky; I Concur opt for sincerity and good humour but, it has to be said, are something of a charisma blackhole. Still, the set’s highlights more than validate their inclusion on DTTR’s next scene-encompassing compilation release - ‘Oblige’ is a gorgeous melange of aching melody and an innovative fusion of post-rock expanse with the urgent rhythmic structures underpinning a lot of This Et Al’s finest work. Elsewhere, ‘Decimal Places’ comes across like a more tightly wound Appleseed Cast, while ‘Exits and Blockades’ is a fine exercise in claw-inducing, elastic riffage and menacing distortion. Earlier on, The Old House - something of a West Yorkshire supergroup comprising members of Piskie Sits and The Research - open with a joyously ramshackle mash-up of the former band’s affectionate Pavement homages and the shouty enthusiasm of Wakefield compatriots The Cribs, but Cardboard Cowboy’s line in safe, mid-tempo noodling sits uncomfortably in the middle, enlivened only by a diverting foray into Wilco-esque feedback experimentation halfway through.
Greg Elliott
IMP / The Critiques / Glasvegas / The Headliners
@ Wakefield Escobar
On stage The Headliners looked confident and arrogant, a good sign for an up-and-coming band. The three guitarists lifted the audience as they bounced around the stage, lead singer Sam passionate and colourful. Although they were boundlessly energetic, this sort of outfit is predictable, as catchy as any bunch of indie pop chart hitters. It’s hard to go wrong with this kind of sound, and from bright young things I want a bit more experimentation. Glasvegas provided this. Although they used a smoke machine for absolutely no reason, their message was unique. The sound was rife with cocky lyrics about their lives and loves, performed with the sorrow of Morrissey – and the quiff too. They were tragic and powerful, with heartbreaking harmonies and a brooding sensitivity. Best of all was a cover of Gerry Goffin and Carole King’s ‘Will You Love Me Tomorrow’, done dryly and a little threateningly, to terrific effect. This was all aided by a particularly unromantic question asked to the audience: ‘anyone fucked someone behind their other half’s back?’ We were all left a little stunned. Jaunty indie-pop came courtesy of The Critiques. Although a little bit clumsy, it all came together and made for some prime dance floor bopping. The new line up saw nonchalant Faye on the mic, and she brought the goods to the table like Kate Jackson of the Long Blondes. Their best song, ‘Missing’, is introduced with rhythmic tick-tocks and flows into a fast storming pop number as she sings the blues. IMP, a local band, finished the night at Escobar. Melodic, fun and catchy, simple and unsophisticated, the three-piece band provided light entertainment and, even better, dancing girls.
Alice White
Iggy Pop and the Stooges / Idlewild / The Sunshine Underground / The Young Knives / Songs and Daughers / The Horrors
@ Leeds Harewood House
Situated in the leafy grounds of Harewood House, ‘Rock The House’ is organised by The Children’s Society, an organisation which exists to highlight the right of every child to have a good childhood. After using Iggy Pop’s ‘Lust For Life’ as the inspiration for a garden at the Chelsea Flower Show, it seemed more than apt that he headline this mini-festival. Earlier in the day, it became clear that The Horrors have some kind of toilet tube fetish. Their singer bounds onto the stage with an enormous example of cardboard tubing and when not smacking it around takes to singing through it with the microphone jammed in the far end. Even this spectacle is upstaged by what I can only describe as a zombie-chav on keyboards. These guys really are a treat though, not just visually but musically. Think of a punk-rock version of The Adams Family and you’ll be close. Keys and guitar switch roles neatly, keeping the sound novel and varied, and their physical passion and aggression are mirrored by the abrasive music they deliver.
Sons & Daughters edge towards many different styles and at their best come across like a rock’n’roll Abba. Their interesting roll’n’twee appears to confuse even them at times today however - whether it’s a lack of concentration or motivation, they just don’t seem with it. Monitor, speaker and wind-shield issues threaten to draw a complete halt to proceedings, but a jolly cover of Adamski’s ‘Killer’ gets the crowd interested again. It’s quaint, but their arrangements hint at a worrying level of musical laziness and compounds the disappointment.
The Young Knives get things going again though. Dressed as maths teachers, their tongue-in-cheek, quirky indie is infectious and fun. Nods to Talking Heads and XTC allows them a fuller flavour than other new-wave revivalists -great three-way harmonies incorporating falsetto from the drummer are an example of the ingenuity that these guys like to weave into their musical diary of day-to-day events. More energetic than many of their peers, they cannot fail to impress musically and cheer visually. The Sunshine Underground may be the brightest darlings of the Leeds scene, but this reviewer just doesn’t buy it - in essence it’s just nu-rave mush. Having said that the instrumental disco bits are toe-tappingly good - their main problem stems from too much direct plagiarism of their influences.
Next up are Idlewild. I saw these guys a long time ago when they were punky upstarts. Word on the grapevine was that they’d sold their soul to the Devil (REM), so I awaited their set with an air of trepidation. They actually still possess the force and aggression of old though, just with a more polished assurance. So much more professional than any of the acts before them today, they power through classics such as ‘A Little Discourage’ and ‘When I Argue I See Shapes’ just as ferociously as ever. Having now added enough strings to their bow to capture the imagination of most, they’re reaching new heights.
Iggy & The Stooges need no introduction. We all know how good the songs are and performance used to be, but the exhilarating aspect of this gig is the musical tightness and physical dynamism they exude even now. Iggy pomps and stomps around the stage like a proud peacock and every single person in the crowd laps it up like a frenzied zealot. Ron Asheton releases licks like they’re going out of fashion, and the double-up on ‘I Wanna Be Your Dog’ is worth the entry price alone. In a similar fashion to their recent Glastonbury performance, Iggy invites a large portion of the crowd onstage during ‘No Fun’, but his order to ‘disperse’ at the end of the song is heeded almost immediately. It’s like old friends playing for mates, and impressing the hell out of them like it was the first time.
Matthew Fraser
Keith / Dennis Jones / Lana Mcdee & The O’s
@ Chorlton Royal Oak
After a 6 month break from gigging, time spent writing of a new album’s worth of material to follow 2006’s Red Thread, Keith choose an intimate and rather sweaty venue to showcase their latest forays into inventive indie dance. The sample-twisted folk wanderings of Dennis Jones and the violin-guitar-handclaps-female-vocalist set-up of Lana Mcdee and the O’s- primes but fails to ignite a crowd that are really here to catch Keith’s new tunes.
Taking to the floor under the fairly auspicious introduction of ‘sorry, the lights aren’t working… try to imagine you’re having sex with Keith,’ the headlines break into the first new song of the night. ‘Up In The Clouds’ grows over a bed of noise that I’m convinced sounds like a crowd roaring in the distance, although with that title I concede it could be an aeroplane. Either way, it’s soon replaced by real cheering by an audience now prepared for a groove, licked into shape by the track’s housey piano riff. Quickly following with crowd-favourite ‘No Solemn Quest’, the band’s way with a melody shines through; the breakdown positively glows with the straight-up kind of tune that is sorely lacking from much modern indie music.
The momentum remains for the rest of a set which reaches a high during ‘Lullaby’, where a descending piano motif repeats hypnotically until it takes over your consciousness entirely, leaving your legs to be commanded by the beat alone. Occasionally singer Oli Bayston wanders into the crowd that jostles and stirs around him, before rushing back to his keyboard to slam out the next motif.
At one point Oli admits, amongst whoops and hollers, that he has ‘a few embarrassing friends in tonight’ – with the quality of his band’s new material it appears he may get a few more.
Ben Rackstraw
Les Club Des Chats / D’Astro / Cissy
@ Leeds Brudenell Social Club
The Brudenell Social Club is small, brightly coloured and enthusiastic this evening. With coloured lights, netted tights and cheap drinks, it’s the perfect setting for some eclectic and experimental music. Cissy were on first, full of progressive jazz funk style with raw drumbeats. Like Kool And The Gang or Sly And The Family Stone, their simple grooves were just as light and boppy, fresh and cool. They need some sleazy vocals to top it off though - the deep bellowing organ, looping drums and scatty guitar were left without a crooner, a Marvin Gaye with ‘sexual healing’. Lead singer and guitar wielder ‘D Millard’ from Leeds act D’Astro certainly created an original atmosphere – he shrieks, coos and darts like an erratic animal. With Mark E Smith‘s voice, he thrashes guitar strings on his mic stand and at times rebels against his bandmates; the sound for me was a hybrid of The Fall and a tranquilised Os Mutantes. D Millard injects vitality, and it all oddly works as an uncomfortable, geeky mismatch of personality. Fanciful and frivolous are the best words to use to describe Le Club Des Chats. A treat for the adult taste buds, they transport you from the office block to the kid’s party. The couplet, Guillaime on drums and Maie on guitar, are like Bjork but with her bra strap released. Quite sophisticated and niche, they don party hats and squeak dog toys. The pair play with each other like children - speaking in a fun international language, Le Club Des Chats were quite special, exciting the audience to throw balloons around with their simple and hilarious escapism.
Alice White
Lethal Bizzle / The Sorry Loves
@ Hull Welly
The Sorry Loves aren’t apologising for being terrible but they do need to offer condolences for the juxtaposition they present. If you want to be a novelty act then go for it but make sure you have the material – at the least The Darkness had that. However, it does on occasions become clear that The Sorry Loves do have the tunes and these shine when they finally take their tongues out of their cheeks. Unfortunately, you get the feeling that this is all a bit of a joke but the only people who are laughing are the people who told it.
Lethal Bizzle wants to hear some noise as he cruises onto the stage and brings down the roof. East London’s, if not the country’s hottest new MC talent – whose genre-smashing style rose from the streets of grime isn’t exactly who you expect in The Welly on a Thursday. Despite the gig going out live on WellyTV there are no signs of nerves as Lethal and the rest of the More Fire Crew reduce the crowd to a frenzied mess with hit single ‘Oi’ and his killer, bass heavy theme tune ‘Bizzle Bizzle’. They mashed-up huge new tracks from ‘Back to Bizznizz’ with a line-up that would make any indie disco weep, they even play with House of Pain’s ‘Jump’ and manage to pull it off. Mr Bizzle and his crew vow to return to wow, we say bring it on – you know when you have been bizzled and we want more.
Hanna Houghton and Mike Reynolds
Paradimes / The Pickups / Black Snatch Band / Lapwing
@ Sheffield Under The Boardwalk
Lapwing’s languid bluesy set soon had a smile plastered on everyone’s lips and they managed to score some extra brownie points thanks to their lead singer, who was a dead ringer for Elvis Costello.
Apart from a slightly dodgy name, Black Snatch Band impressed for the most part with their Led Zep wired-on-Tetleys ruckus. They chuntered along, grinding out full-throttle heaviness, but soon the guitarist’s widdly-diddly antics left me feeling cold. Fret-wanking aside, their set ratcheted up the tempo, leaving a positive buzz of energy in the air.
This gave The Pickups the perfect opportunity to hit us where it hurt. And sure enough, they ripped into us from the off. Wave after wave of breakneck gutter-rock smacked repeatedly against my skull with a demented swagger, showing these guys have come on leaps and bounds in the last few months.
One problem with going balls-out for your entire set is that there was no time for much variation. Maybe if they calmed down a bit, things could develop even further.
Having said that, The Pickups left the stage with the room positively sizzling, which meant the Paradimes could kick back and let rip. Epic would be one way to describe them, like a good-vibes Linkin Park with decent songs. With possibly the most hyper-active singer on the face of the planet (probably deprived of some much needed Ritalin), they drove along a righteous path, spurred on by their demented vocalist, until both us and them were shattered but happy, after an evening of pure mind-therapy.
James Archer
Richard Hawley / Kate Walsh
@ Nottingham Rock City
Is this a gig or a fancy Italian restaurant? It’s Sunday evening, and the candle-lit tables scattered across Rock City provide an apt setting for Richard Hawley’s gentle crooning. As the eclectically-aged crowd start to fill the room, they’re first of all treated to an enchanting performance by Essex singer-songwriter Kate Walsh. Blessed with a voice sweeter than a chocolate-dipped jelly baby, Walsh soon has the audience eating out of the palm of her hand as she delicately plucks her newly acquired acoustic guitar.
Sheffield’s Richard Hawley is looking very dapper as he and his band take to the stage. He’s more than happy to warm up the crowd with some banter before he sets about wooing them with his set of fifties style soft rock. All suited and booted and with a double bass in tow, Hawley and his four band mates carry the look of a group you might see entertaining pensioners on a wet afternoon at Blackpool pleasure beach, but it would be doing them a huge disservice to associate their music with such a lowly comparison.
There’s a crescendo of noise as they launch into an impressive version of ‘Roll of the roll’ with Hawley etching out a rich, classic sound from his Gibson whilst the rest of the band sound they’ve been playing together since the fifties. Where’s the Fonz when you need him? Reminiscent of Leonard Cohen in terms of his singing, Hawley is blessed with a voice deeper than a Harvard philosopher on acid which provides a refreshing change from most of the high pitched pups currently plying their trade in the music industry.
He and his band are clearly enjoying themselves up on stage apart from the contribution one annoying heckler who crosses the line with his abuse and is promptly removed from the gig, to a resounding ovation from the crowd. Idiot gone, Hawley then steps up another gear and masterfully plays his way through material from both his similarly-sounding new and previous album to the delight of the audience. Confident enough to wait a full five minutes before coming back on stage for an encore, he rewards the patient crowd by finishing his set alongside special guest Clive Mellor on harmonica before walking off stage leaving everyone hungry for even more.
Will Holt, pic by Phil Swift
Rilo Kiley
@ Nottingham Rescue Rooms
Though not always with a necessarily positive write up, Rilo Kiley are a band that have been blazing themsleves across music blogs, newspapers and music magazines more than most bands in the past few months. The hype has clearly made a difference tonight as Rescue Rooms is full to the brim with everyone from Indie kids to middle aged couples.
Taking to the stage in very well turned out clobber, Rilo Kiley pick up their instruments and settle in for the night. ‘Money Maker’ is an immense crowd pleaser. It’s easy to see why as well. Anyone not attracted to the rumble of those deep drums, the cool as fuck bass line and that simple but itchy, addictive guitar can only be the sort of person who isn’t fond of breathing.
With Blake Sennett often adding his vocals to Jenny Lewis’ husky voice, Rilo Kiley have two great, and very different, front persons. Both singers lend their ability perfectly to their soulful, driving rock anthems. Along with the smooth, creative guitar work, Rilo Kiley often create very Interpol sounding songs which work excellently in the live setting.
However, too many times the band fail to flaunt what they are best at and tend to take the ever tempting route down the dirty road to fame. Instead of the heart wrenching, touching ballards or sex influenced grooves, Rilo Kiley, annoyingly, play far too much white Americana funk tonight. The result? This funk sounds like a bad AC/DC fronted by Alanis Morrisette. Not good.
Tonight, the band succeed in creating a warm, almost camp fire type of atmosphere and greatly impress with around half their material. The other half left much of the punters feeling cold and slightly disappointed.
Gavin Williams
Rollo Tomassi / Millicent Grove / Relentless Trauma
@ Nottingham Junktion 7
Anyone with aspirations of having a voice box after their mid-twenties shouldn’t join a grindcore metal band, as tonight’s performances proved. There’s no such worry for Relentless Trauma as they plug through their unmemorable set. Lacking tightness and stage presence it’s a good job they’ve brought their mates along but even they can’t muster anything more than mute applause as the band trudge off the stage.
It’s a shame that Millicent Grove’s lead singer is struggling with a sore throat on the night but you have to wonder how it would make any difference to his singing style as he grunts and bellows his way through the set. What he lacks in voice he more than makes up for in Gallows-esque stage presence as he hangs off the ceiling before launching himself into the buoyed-up crowd continuing his verbal assault. With Slipknot and Rage against the Machine influences, they sound like twenty machine guns going off simultaneously. The crowd a.k.a. their mates behind them, it’s all out musical warfare including three broken guitars and the remains of the lead singer’s voice amongst the casualties as they play till he’s completely lost his voice.
With the mates of the first two bands out of the equation, the room suddenly looks a lot more empty as Rollo Tomassi take to the stage. Sticking true to the grindcore theme of the night, but with an underlying zippy electro-element to their music, they’ve impressively fused a lot of rhythms and musical styles together to create a unique sound. Unfortunately the lead singer is lacking the power in her voice to compete with her band mates. More than that, letting her down tonight is the fact that she’s badly out of tune with the band, like a delusional X-factor audition contestant, when she’s trying to sing rather than grunt. Stick to the grunting on tonight’s evidence love. Aside from that, it’s an impressive set and the band deserve better than the twenty or so people left in the audience to watching them. Now then, anyone got a Lemsip?
Will Holt
