There aren't many gigs in January, and apart from Sheffield progcore quintet Rolo Tomassi I haven't been out to experience much live music. This means I've been able to almost catch up with listening to all the new releases and cheap charity shop promos I've accumulated. These are the spinning discs due to be released in February 2010 that I have been enjoying:
1. Retribution Gospel Choir II (Sub Pop)
The second album from Alan Sparhawke's other trio is harder rocking and more experimentally produced than their debut, and an early contender for album of 2010 status. This could even be the best thing he's done, so all the Low fans who missed the half full Retribution gig last time they came to Manchester should be advised that they are back on March 11th.
2. Plank! - La Luna EP (Akhoustik Anarkhy)
http://www.myspace.com/plankuk
I have a CDR of this so I'm not sure if I've spelt the name of the label corrrectly, or if this EP is really called "La Luna" but that's the first instrumental, which will be familiar to anyone who has heard the numerous gigs Plank have played around Manchester in 2009. These tunes have both mutated and been surpassed by new ones, but this forms a fine document of their genesis; the final piece is a more keyboard led doodle that was birthed before bassist Ed got on board and has never been played at a gig. The other three songs have formed the backbone of their set. They had no reservations about me flinging comparisons to Mogwai, Battles and most obviously Neu at them after the first time I saw them at Islington Mill, and these have all certainly been influences on maybe Manchester's best band right now. No frills, just great tunes and fine musicianship make Plank worth walking. If you like this be sure to check out Ed's other band, the funkier FTSE 100. Guitarist Davey Rowe tells me release date is 19th April but you can buy a copy off the band at their gigs before that.
3. Lonelady - Nerve Up (Warp)
http://www.lonelady.co.uk/
Check next issue of Flux magazine for a very very short drastically edited interview.
4. Jack Rose - Luck in the Valley (Thrill Jockey) RIP
Guitar pickin' master two years my junior passed away due to heart attack.
5. White Hills (Thrill Jockey)
Heavy psychedelia
6. Cluster - Qua (Klangbad)
Two old Germans show younger technoids how it should be done.
7. BJ Nilsen - The Invisible City (Touch)
Ominous ambience with chairs scraping all over the world.
8. Anna Kashfi - Survival (Little Red Rabbit)
9. Charlie Alex March - Home / Hidden (Loaf)
10. Nedry - Condors (Monotreme)
11. Puerto Muerto - Drumming for Pistols (Fire)
12. The Album Leaf - A Chorus of Storytellers (Sub Pop)
March releases I'm enjoying:
BARDO POND - Bufo Alvarius (Fire reissue)
PAVEMENT - Quarantine the Past: the best of Pavement (Domino / Matador)
GALAXIE 500 - Today
GALAXIE 500 - On Fire
GALAXIE 500 - This is Our Music (Domino double CD reissues)
AUTECHRE - Oversteps (Warp)
TO ROCOCO ROT - Speculation (Domino)
ROBIN HITCHCOCK AND THE VENUS 3 - Propellor Time (Sartorial)
Wednesday, 27 January 2010
Thursday, 14 January 2010
Radio Angels Mutate Turntables
2009 was the first year since 1988 that I didn't set foot in Liverpool, so it seemed fateful that the first gig I attended in 2010 was there. On the way to Piccadilly station I stopped off at Vinyl Exchange where they were playing a tortuous CD by Sexton Ming that sounded like a senile git trying to sing very badly in the bath. Fortunately I was distracted by my old friend Bess Keloid who turned up and hit the fifty pence rack, and I directed him to one of the three excellent Pascal Comelade compilations still lurking there. I found four more 50p CDs that turned out to be mediocre, and better bets at two (Swell) and four (Slint Glenn Rhoda). I also purchased the last two Pascal Comelade promo CDs. Hermana PR seem to have sent a huge number of these to dolts who don't take off the shrinkwrap, let alone listen to them. So far I've given copies to Hugh Cornwell and the Flaming Lips, which might be more potentially helpful to Comelade than ignorant music journalists who don't like listening to music. Later that day I gave a copy to Philip Jeck who assured me he'd give it a listen. I gave the other copy to a guy called Ross who ran the vinyl hack workshop at the Bluecoat that I'd missed earlier in the day. I've still got a few more of these, so if anyone wants a Pascal Comelade CD send me an email and if you can meet me at a gig I'll give you a copy. Jean Herve Peron and PJ Harvey sing on one song each, and there are very idiosyncratic covers of the Gun Club and "Brand New Cadillac."
First call in Liverpool was Probe records, where I hoped to find a copy of Flipper's "Love" album which was supposedly released in May 2009. Plastichead have done such a pitiful job of distributing it however that no record shops in Manchester, London or Liverpool are stocking it. They all have the Domino reissues of the early Flipper albums that I already have two or three times over, and Vinyl Exchange even has double CDR promos of "Public Flipper Limited" for a mere quid. All I could find was a secondhand copy of the first Ed Hall album for quid and a free paper with a very positive review of Mission of Burma.
Janek Schaefer's retrospective exhibition at the Bluecoat was pretty good, but one room was way more interesting than all the others put together. Three trios of turntables had been set up to play singles of recordings of droning cello, violin and piano and as they stopped and started and recombined they sounded beautiful. I sat in the room for a long while, listening to the needles dance over the vinyl bumps reproducing the chop and hum of invisible instruments. There was another room with a post bag that played recordings of a package in postal transit that had been edited into a seven inch single and released on Matt Wand's Hot Air Label. Another room had a bunch of old TV's with no images playing recordings of audio from broadcasts from the last day of analog TV in Liverpool. There were also inactive snazzily customised turntables. The generous bowl of carrot and ginger soup I ate in the cafe was piping hot and delicious, and then it was time for the performances to begin. First noisician was Vasco Alvo, playing an AM / FM Keyboard 6. He mixed snatches of radio into a mutating soundscape. Next Philip Jeck, who I've heard many times in the past, was introduced by Janek Schaefer as "The Master." Fortunately he didn't kill anyone by shrinking them, but he did wield a damaged bass guitar which he plucked occasionally to add more deep throb to his looping constructions of cranky keyboard, skipping records and semi-funcional effects pedals. Jeck was the main reason I'd travelled over, as he always makes a fantastic noise, and the intermittent addition of bass guitar worked well. Whilst recognisably a unique Jeckscape, this wasn't that similar to anything I've heard form him previously. There was a bit of a gap whilst Janek Schaefer set up his radios, and the DJ played a song I mistook for AC Marias, before realising that it wa actually "In My Garden" by Swans.
Janek Schaefer's "Phoenix and Phaedra" utilised surround sound to project a mix of multiple radios and Indian drone box, building from almost total silence to crescendos that had some poor old codgers sticking their fingers in their ears. They'd probably drop dead at a Lightning Bolt gig if this was to much for their delicate balance organs! There was no visual focus as Janek mixed from the desk on the balcony and the front stage where Philip and Alvo had set up was almost deserted. Towards the end a swarm of angels fluttered down from on high to do not very much at all.
On the way home there was a pack of dopey drunken retards on the train, one of whom paraded up and down the aisle naked, showing off his hideous spotty arse and circumcsied penis to everyone. One of his friends knocked my hat, under some delusion that he was funny, then later this moron started on a meek and mild character in a hood calling him a towel head and a suicide bomber. Unfortunately we were stuck in the company of these pissed arseholes for an extra fifty minutes as another train had broken down on Warrington station, blocking the line. What was even worse was the heating was not working and it was impossible to communicate a request to the driver to switch it on. By the time I alighted at Oxford Road I couldn't feel my toes, despite wearing three pairs of thick socks, so I got a complaint form to fill in. The police unsurprisingly seemed totally uninterested in getting the CCTV footage looked at in much the same way that they wouldn't check it when some stupid kids tried and failed to mug me near a camera. It's good that the fire service isn't quite as lackadaisical, isn't it?
There was a silver lining however; as I walked home in the middle of the almost car free roads, Radio 3 broadcast an interview with Keith Rowe about his use of radios in an improvised composition which they then transmitted. This was highly synchronous with my experiences that evening, and made the freezing walk home tolerable. On returning I counted my toes and was pleased that I still had ten.
First call in Liverpool was Probe records, where I hoped to find a copy of Flipper's "Love" album which was supposedly released in May 2009. Plastichead have done such a pitiful job of distributing it however that no record shops in Manchester, London or Liverpool are stocking it. They all have the Domino reissues of the early Flipper albums that I already have two or three times over, and Vinyl Exchange even has double CDR promos of "Public Flipper Limited" for a mere quid. All I could find was a secondhand copy of the first Ed Hall album for quid and a free paper with a very positive review of Mission of Burma.
Janek Schaefer's retrospective exhibition at the Bluecoat was pretty good, but one room was way more interesting than all the others put together. Three trios of turntables had been set up to play singles of recordings of droning cello, violin and piano and as they stopped and started and recombined they sounded beautiful. I sat in the room for a long while, listening to the needles dance over the vinyl bumps reproducing the chop and hum of invisible instruments. There was another room with a post bag that played recordings of a package in postal transit that had been edited into a seven inch single and released on Matt Wand's Hot Air Label. Another room had a bunch of old TV's with no images playing recordings of audio from broadcasts from the last day of analog TV in Liverpool. There were also inactive snazzily customised turntables. The generous bowl of carrot and ginger soup I ate in the cafe was piping hot and delicious, and then it was time for the performances to begin. First noisician was Vasco Alvo, playing an AM / FM Keyboard 6. He mixed snatches of radio into a mutating soundscape. Next Philip Jeck, who I've heard many times in the past, was introduced by Janek Schaefer as "The Master." Fortunately he didn't kill anyone by shrinking them, but he did wield a damaged bass guitar which he plucked occasionally to add more deep throb to his looping constructions of cranky keyboard, skipping records and semi-funcional effects pedals. Jeck was the main reason I'd travelled over, as he always makes a fantastic noise, and the intermittent addition of bass guitar worked well. Whilst recognisably a unique Jeckscape, this wasn't that similar to anything I've heard form him previously. There was a bit of a gap whilst Janek Schaefer set up his radios, and the DJ played a song I mistook for AC Marias, before realising that it wa actually "In My Garden" by Swans.
Janek Schaefer's "Phoenix and Phaedra" utilised surround sound to project a mix of multiple radios and Indian drone box, building from almost total silence to crescendos that had some poor old codgers sticking their fingers in their ears. They'd probably drop dead at a Lightning Bolt gig if this was to much for their delicate balance organs! There was no visual focus as Janek mixed from the desk on the balcony and the front stage where Philip and Alvo had set up was almost deserted. Towards the end a swarm of angels fluttered down from on high to do not very much at all.
On the way home there was a pack of dopey drunken retards on the train, one of whom paraded up and down the aisle naked, showing off his hideous spotty arse and circumcsied penis to everyone. One of his friends knocked my hat, under some delusion that he was funny, then later this moron started on a meek and mild character in a hood calling him a towel head and a suicide bomber. Unfortunately we were stuck in the company of these pissed arseholes for an extra fifty minutes as another train had broken down on Warrington station, blocking the line. What was even worse was the heating was not working and it was impossible to communicate a request to the driver to switch it on. By the time I alighted at Oxford Road I couldn't feel my toes, despite wearing three pairs of thick socks, so I got a complaint form to fill in. The police unsurprisingly seemed totally uninterested in getting the CCTV footage looked at in much the same way that they wouldn't check it when some stupid kids tried and failed to mug me near a camera. It's good that the fire service isn't quite as lackadaisical, isn't it?
There was a silver lining however; as I walked home in the middle of the almost car free roads, Radio 3 broadcast an interview with Keith Rowe about his use of radios in an improvised composition which they then transmitted. This was highly synchronous with my experiences that evening, and made the freezing walk home tolerable. On returning I counted my toes and was pleased that I still had ten.
Thursday, 7 January 2010
My Favourite Gigs of 2009
The only reason to live in Manchester is the huge amount of gigs that happen in the city, so its funny that nearly all the most memorable ones I attended in 2009 happened in other places. These were my gigging highlights of 2009:
ALL TOMORROW'S NIGHTMARES
I've probably written more than enough about this already, but both All Tomorrow's Parties Nightmares plus the In Between Days added up to ten days solid gigging. I managed to extend that by going to see Josh Pearson and Six Organs of Admittance in Manchsester before departure and Sunn O))) on the way home. I witnessed eighty live performances in thirteen days, only counting bands I watched for twenty minutes or more. Could this be a record?
WIRE & MONKEY WEEK
Wire were playing three gigs in Spain so I headed south to Barcelona for the five days before they hit town and had a real cool time hanging out in the castle on the mountain by the sea. After following them to Europe's highest capitol city Madrid, the trail ended at El Puerto de Santa Maria, a small seaside town close to Cadiz, just south of Portugal. In early October the weather was so hot that it would make front page news in Britain in August. The sun roasted me lobster red, and I saw Wire play a unique unrepeatable gig under a clear starry sky in an old monastery. Despite playing a slightly truncated set, they played the most intense gig of the tour, and came pretty close to being as perfect as they were playing the "Send" album in a black old East German bunker in Berlin. I met lots of friendly Spaniards and had a great time by the sea. Walking in a fenced off forest I found a chameleon and a lynx! I also saw Howe Gelb, Silver Apple, Heavy Trash and some good Spanish bands I'd never heard before.
MAGAZINE
If someone had told me four years ago that I'd see four Magazine gigs in one year, I wouldn't have believed them. This was an unlikely reformation, as guitarist John McGeoch is dead. However as soon as Pete Shelley's unmistakable black hearted riff to "The Light Pours Out of Me" burned from the Academy PA on Valentine's day, it was obvious they'd found the right man to fill his shoes. Noko had played guitar in Luxuria with reluctant singer Howard Devoto, so made a much better choice than some celebrity guitarist with suspect baggage. The only thing I could possibly criticise in his playing was that I'd like to have heard more distortion on "Shot By Both Sides" but on the second Manchester gig, I'd wormed by way to the front of the crowd and was too lost in music to notice. The look of incredulous pleasure on Devoto's face at the phenomenal applause of the homecoming crowd hinted that more Magazine action could well follow. In the summer they charmingly elected to play a gig in Sheffield on my birthday and the best birthday present I've ever had was hearing an immaculate rendition of "Philadelphia," a song that hadn't featured in the February set. They did indeed make me feel healthier. Then they returned once more to play "The Correct Use of Soap" to a standing and shuffling ovation at the Bridgewater Hall, pulling the surprise stunt of not playing "Shot By Both Sides" but boosting the encore with "Give Me Everything." Rumour has it that they are now working on new songs. Maybe it's right to be nervous now?
KILLING JOKE
My first trip to Blackpool, and what better reason than a sixteen song blast of classic Killing Joke "Madness?" OK so there were a load of drastically inferior bands to watch before they blasted the ballroom with a short sixteen song set, but the original line up has a unique chemistry that surpasses all other bands in sheer intensity. See review earlier on blog. I'd dreamt this gig years before, except in my dream I was watching from the balcony and here I was near the front on the Geordie side to catch maximum six string shockwaves. They are touring Europe in April and have spent the winter recording a new album for release in 2010 on Spinefarm records.
THAT PETROL EMOTION
Another band back from the dead, re-igniting their not so final flame, and fiery as ever. They played no new songs, but didn't really need to as there were still so many great ones from their five albums and singles that didn't make it to the "Chemicrazy" heavy set. It's a good thing they're back. Check out the All Tomorrow's Parties review for more.
JELLO BIAFRA AND THE GUANTANAMO SCHOOL OF MEDECINE
It was great to finally witness Jello Biafra fronting a rock band. I'd seen him in spoken word mode before, but this Sheffield sojourn was way more fun. Typical of Jello, he didn't rely on oldies to prop him up and the band blasted out new songs that were so new they aren't even on the album that came out in October. There were three Dead Kennedys songs in the set, but the proof was in the songwriting. Who cares what some vendetta-minded judge says when Jello continues to write song after song and his old corporate whore band mate East Bay Ray writes none at all. Who really wrote the Dead Kennedys songs then? I don't hear that pathetic dweeb Ray coming up with any new material, but maybe he's just too busy making advertising jingles for Nike and Walmart.
DINOSAUR JR
Another Sheffield gig reviewed earlier on this blog, as is the Jello Biafra gig. You will never play guitar like J Mascis, but no need to give up just yet. Further down reformation road they've made two great albums that do nothing but boost their formidable reputation and live they are better than they ever were.
PJ HARVEY AND JOHN PARISH
Not even two dopey shazzas shouting at each other during the quiet bits could ruin a stunning set drawn from both the PJ Harvey and John Parish albums. I was quite ill at the time and this made me feel a whole lot better. I think it was the first gig I'd been to at the Ritz since The Fall played one of the last gigs of the second Brix era there. As they ended one song very quietly, an ignorant bartender tipped a load of bottles into a bin making a huge crash. John Parish's broad grin, as he gripped his comically tiny ukelele, was a picture.
MELT BANANA
I was too sick to follow them around the country to other gigs as I usually do, but Melt Banana remain one of the greatest live music experiences in the known universe, even in a stupid venue like Satan's Hollow. The stage is too low, and fat bouncers kept blocking the meagre view of the band. The last time they played Manchester they sold out Academy 3 so it seemed odd to play this inferior venue. The funniest thing I heard anyone say from on stage was when Yako introduced them as Melt Banana Lite and they cranked out a cacophanous deluge of noise in darkness with flashlights on their heads. It's a shame they don't play a bit longer!
HUGH CORNWELL
See earlier on blog. The whole of "Hoover Dam" and "Rattus Norvegicus" plus a five song encore from a sixty year old really put to shame all these younger bands who think a five or six song set is long enough. Short sets don't leave me wanting more so much as they leave me thinking the band doesn't respect the fact that I've spent an entire evening of my life going to listen to them. His second Manchester gig of the year was so much fun I went to Birmingham to repeat the experience the very next day.
THE DRONES / SNOWMAN / LAST HARBOUR
The Drones have a level of intensity that bands don't get without hitting the road and playing gig after gig in every town that they can get to. Snowman were nearly as enjoyable which was nice as I'd never heard of them before, and Manchester's Last Harbour played maybe the best gig I've seen them do. It's a shame the Roadhouse doesn't book a few more bands that are actually worth going to see, they seem to average two or three worthwhile gigs a year which is a bit pathetic.
Some other great bands I went to see that year: Retribution Gospel Choir, Arbouretum, Gang Gang Dance, Part Chimp, Soulsavers, Oneida, Therapy?, Flaming Lips, Obits, Night Marchers, Yo La Tengo, Daniel Johnston, Mark Eitzel, Oxbow, Sleeping Dog, Gnod, FTSE 100 and a whole lot of Plank!
ALL TOMORROW'S NIGHTMARES
I've probably written more than enough about this already, but both All Tomorrow's Parties Nightmares plus the In Between Days added up to ten days solid gigging. I managed to extend that by going to see Josh Pearson and Six Organs of Admittance in Manchsester before departure and Sunn O))) on the way home. I witnessed eighty live performances in thirteen days, only counting bands I watched for twenty minutes or more. Could this be a record?
WIRE & MONKEY WEEK
Wire were playing three gigs in Spain so I headed south to Barcelona for the five days before they hit town and had a real cool time hanging out in the castle on the mountain by the sea. After following them to Europe's highest capitol city Madrid, the trail ended at El Puerto de Santa Maria, a small seaside town close to Cadiz, just south of Portugal. In early October the weather was so hot that it would make front page news in Britain in August. The sun roasted me lobster red, and I saw Wire play a unique unrepeatable gig under a clear starry sky in an old monastery. Despite playing a slightly truncated set, they played the most intense gig of the tour, and came pretty close to being as perfect as they were playing the "Send" album in a black old East German bunker in Berlin. I met lots of friendly Spaniards and had a great time by the sea. Walking in a fenced off forest I found a chameleon and a lynx! I also saw Howe Gelb, Silver Apple, Heavy Trash and some good Spanish bands I'd never heard before.
MAGAZINE
If someone had told me four years ago that I'd see four Magazine gigs in one year, I wouldn't have believed them. This was an unlikely reformation, as guitarist John McGeoch is dead. However as soon as Pete Shelley's unmistakable black hearted riff to "The Light Pours Out of Me" burned from the Academy PA on Valentine's day, it was obvious they'd found the right man to fill his shoes. Noko had played guitar in Luxuria with reluctant singer Howard Devoto, so made a much better choice than some celebrity guitarist with suspect baggage. The only thing I could possibly criticise in his playing was that I'd like to have heard more distortion on "Shot By Both Sides" but on the second Manchester gig, I'd wormed by way to the front of the crowd and was too lost in music to notice. The look of incredulous pleasure on Devoto's face at the phenomenal applause of the homecoming crowd hinted that more Magazine action could well follow. In the summer they charmingly elected to play a gig in Sheffield on my birthday and the best birthday present I've ever had was hearing an immaculate rendition of "Philadelphia," a song that hadn't featured in the February set. They did indeed make me feel healthier. Then they returned once more to play "The Correct Use of Soap" to a standing and shuffling ovation at the Bridgewater Hall, pulling the surprise stunt of not playing "Shot By Both Sides" but boosting the encore with "Give Me Everything." Rumour has it that they are now working on new songs. Maybe it's right to be nervous now?
KILLING JOKE
My first trip to Blackpool, and what better reason than a sixteen song blast of classic Killing Joke "Madness?" OK so there were a load of drastically inferior bands to watch before they blasted the ballroom with a short sixteen song set, but the original line up has a unique chemistry that surpasses all other bands in sheer intensity. See review earlier on blog. I'd dreamt this gig years before, except in my dream I was watching from the balcony and here I was near the front on the Geordie side to catch maximum six string shockwaves. They are touring Europe in April and have spent the winter recording a new album for release in 2010 on Spinefarm records.
THAT PETROL EMOTION
Another band back from the dead, re-igniting their not so final flame, and fiery as ever. They played no new songs, but didn't really need to as there were still so many great ones from their five albums and singles that didn't make it to the "Chemicrazy" heavy set. It's a good thing they're back. Check out the All Tomorrow's Parties review for more.
JELLO BIAFRA AND THE GUANTANAMO SCHOOL OF MEDECINE
It was great to finally witness Jello Biafra fronting a rock band. I'd seen him in spoken word mode before, but this Sheffield sojourn was way more fun. Typical of Jello, he didn't rely on oldies to prop him up and the band blasted out new songs that were so new they aren't even on the album that came out in October. There were three Dead Kennedys songs in the set, but the proof was in the songwriting. Who cares what some vendetta-minded judge says when Jello continues to write song after song and his old corporate whore band mate East Bay Ray writes none at all. Who really wrote the Dead Kennedys songs then? I don't hear that pathetic dweeb Ray coming up with any new material, but maybe he's just too busy making advertising jingles for Nike and Walmart.
DINOSAUR JR
Another Sheffield gig reviewed earlier on this blog, as is the Jello Biafra gig. You will never play guitar like J Mascis, but no need to give up just yet. Further down reformation road they've made two great albums that do nothing but boost their formidable reputation and live they are better than they ever were.
PJ HARVEY AND JOHN PARISH
Not even two dopey shazzas shouting at each other during the quiet bits could ruin a stunning set drawn from both the PJ Harvey and John Parish albums. I was quite ill at the time and this made me feel a whole lot better. I think it was the first gig I'd been to at the Ritz since The Fall played one of the last gigs of the second Brix era there. As they ended one song very quietly, an ignorant bartender tipped a load of bottles into a bin making a huge crash. John Parish's broad grin, as he gripped his comically tiny ukelele, was a picture.
MELT BANANA
I was too sick to follow them around the country to other gigs as I usually do, but Melt Banana remain one of the greatest live music experiences in the known universe, even in a stupid venue like Satan's Hollow. The stage is too low, and fat bouncers kept blocking the meagre view of the band. The last time they played Manchester they sold out Academy 3 so it seemed odd to play this inferior venue. The funniest thing I heard anyone say from on stage was when Yako introduced them as Melt Banana Lite and they cranked out a cacophanous deluge of noise in darkness with flashlights on their heads. It's a shame they don't play a bit longer!
HUGH CORNWELL
See earlier on blog. The whole of "Hoover Dam" and "Rattus Norvegicus" plus a five song encore from a sixty year old really put to shame all these younger bands who think a five or six song set is long enough. Short sets don't leave me wanting more so much as they leave me thinking the band doesn't respect the fact that I've spent an entire evening of my life going to listen to them. His second Manchester gig of the year was so much fun I went to Birmingham to repeat the experience the very next day.
THE DRONES / SNOWMAN / LAST HARBOUR
The Drones have a level of intensity that bands don't get without hitting the road and playing gig after gig in every town that they can get to. Snowman were nearly as enjoyable which was nice as I'd never heard of them before, and Manchester's Last Harbour played maybe the best gig I've seen them do. It's a shame the Roadhouse doesn't book a few more bands that are actually worth going to see, they seem to average two or three worthwhile gigs a year which is a bit pathetic.
Some other great bands I went to see that year: Retribution Gospel Choir, Arbouretum, Gang Gang Dance, Part Chimp, Soulsavers, Oneida, Therapy?, Flaming Lips, Obits, Night Marchers, Yo La Tengo, Daniel Johnston, Mark Eitzel, Oxbow, Sleeping Dog, Gnod, FTSE 100 and a whole lot of Plank!
Wednesday, 30 December 2009
New Year Noise in Dirty Ol' Manchester
As usual January is thin on gigs, which is a blessing if all the venues don't turn the heating on during snowstorms like the misers at the Kings Arms. The last gig I went to in 2009 was upstairs in this Salford pub. I watched Serpentine Pad, Stray Light, Fat Elvis and a band with no name play very short sets. I was wearing two coats, a shirt, three T-shirts and a jumper and still I was so cold I had to go and warm up using the hand dryer in the toilet. The next day I almost coughed up my right lung with pneumonia. At least they serve nice real cider, not that corporate chemical bubbly crap Strongbow. Don't book a gig there in the winter though.
%%% January %%%
16 Stupids / Revenge of the Psychotronic Man - Retrobar £5 7.30pm-2am
16 Former Bullies / Irma Vep - Islington Mill FREE
17 Vivian Girls - Deaf Institute £8
http://www.pineapplefolk.com/
18 Rolo Tomassi - Deaf Institute
http://www.thedeafinstitute.co.uk/
Yes this venue has heating, and they use it!
20 Baroness - Islington Mill
http://www.myspace.com/lambandwolf
28 Marble Valley - Dulcimer
http://www.myspace.com/marblevalley
A great fun gig from Pavement drummer's other band. You missed it?
29 Danny Saul and some other musicians - Kings Arms, turn the heater on misers!!! £3 plus big some spare cash for the electric metre and hope the neighbours don't complain.
30 Plank! / Former Bullies / Gideon Conn / Pens - Jabez Clegg, starts 10pm, Plank on at 6.15, over a tenner on the door with lots of bands who might be quite boring? Friends of Mine festival http://www.myspace.com/plankuk
31 Lou Barlow - Deaf Institute £10
%%% February %%%
4 The Ex and Brass Unbound / Zun Zun Egui - Deaf Institute £8
http://www.theex.nl/
This could well be gig of the first bit of the year
6 She Keeps Bees - Dulcimer
8 Dan Friel / Plank! - The Corner
11 Beach House - Islington Mill (Pineapple Folk) £9
http://www.islingtonmill.com/
12 MV & EE / The Doozer / Irma Vep - Islington Mill (Golden Lab) £6
http://www.myspace.com/goldenlabrecords
14 Hot Pants Romance afternoon prom - Islington Mill
15 Crash of Rhinos / Wooderson / NASDAQ / Well Wisher - Satan's Hollow
NASDAQ is FTSE 100 playing different music
22 Serpentine Pad - Tiger Lounge (The Big Dig) FREE
http://www.myspace.com/serpentinepadmusic
23 Xiu Xiu - Islington Mill (Wot God Forgot)
http://www.myspace.com/wotgodforgot
24 Salford Concert Series w/ Toshimaru Nakamura - Islington Mill
25 Levenshulme Bicycle Orchestra / DBH - Green Rom £3
26 Moloch - ex-Army Of Flying Robots - raw, brutal, doom-rock, riffs, greatness - www.myspace.com/molochscum
Closure - Leeds grindcore plus heavy slow bits - good band
Stinky Wizzleteat - top-notch Brummy sludge-stoners
We Happened Next - local thrash duo - lightning fast, gr - Royal Oak, Chorlton
27 Plank / Klaus Kinski; unpredictable disco-noise-bash /NASDAQ - Fuel £3
28 Kong / Apes Fight Back - Ruby Lounge
***March***
1 Plank! support DD/MM/YY - Ruby Lounge
5 LoneLady - Ruby Lounge
7 White Hills / Pontiack - Ruby Lounge
11 Retribution Gospel Choir - Ruby Lounge (Wot God Forgot) £8
Low's Alan Sparhawke's harder rockin' trio
11 Autechre - Pure... OOPS Big Gig Clash!!!
Rock hellfire vs. mouse pushers, where is Pure anyway?
19 Former Bullies - Night and Day
20 Lightning Ensemble featuring Evan Parker
Evan Parker: Saxophones
Richard Scott: Buchla Lightning
Stephen Grew: Piano
Phillip Marks: Percussion
Cross Street Chapel
20 The Stranglers - Academy
21 A Silver Mount Zion - Academy
22 The Album Leaf - Deaf Institute
25 Picastro / Paddy Steer - Dulcimer
26 Bad Uncle - Fuel
27 Neil Young tribute /open mic - Fuel
28 The Noise Upstairs - Fuel
31 Former Bullies - Trof Northern Quarter
%%% January %%%
16 Stupids / Revenge of the Psychotronic Man - Retrobar £5 7.30pm-2am
16 Former Bullies / Irma Vep - Islington Mill FREE
17 Vivian Girls - Deaf Institute £8
http://www.pineapplefolk.com/
18 Rolo Tomassi - Deaf Institute
http://www.thedeafinstitute.co.uk/
Yes this venue has heating, and they use it!
20 Baroness - Islington Mill
http://www.myspace.com/lambandwolf
28 Marble Valley - Dulcimer
http://www.myspace.com/marblevalley
A great fun gig from Pavement drummer's other band. You missed it?
29 Danny Saul and some other musicians - Kings Arms, turn the heater on misers!!! £3 plus big some spare cash for the electric metre and hope the neighbours don't complain.
30 Plank! / Former Bullies / Gideon Conn / Pens - Jabez Clegg, starts 10pm, Plank on at 6.15, over a tenner on the door with lots of bands who might be quite boring? Friends of Mine festival http://www.myspace.com/plankuk
31 Lou Barlow - Deaf Institute £10
%%% February %%%
4 The Ex and Brass Unbound / Zun Zun Egui - Deaf Institute £8
http://www.theex.nl/
This could well be gig of the first bit of the year
6 She Keeps Bees - Dulcimer
8 Dan Friel / Plank! - The Corner
11 Beach House - Islington Mill (Pineapple Folk) £9
http://www.islingtonmill.com/
12 MV & EE / The Doozer / Irma Vep - Islington Mill (Golden Lab) £6
http://www.myspace.com/goldenlabrecords
14 Hot Pants Romance afternoon prom - Islington Mill
15 Crash of Rhinos / Wooderson / NASDAQ / Well Wisher - Satan's Hollow
NASDAQ is FTSE 100 playing different music
22 Serpentine Pad - Tiger Lounge (The Big Dig) FREE
http://www.myspace.com/serpentinepadmusic
23 Xiu Xiu - Islington Mill (Wot God Forgot)
http://www.myspace.com/wotgodforgot
24 Salford Concert Series w/ Toshimaru Nakamura - Islington Mill
25 Levenshulme Bicycle Orchestra / DBH - Green Rom £3
26 Moloch - ex-Army Of Flying Robots - raw, brutal, doom-rock, riffs, greatness - www.myspace.com/molochscum
Closure - Leeds grindcore plus heavy slow bits - good band
Stinky Wizzleteat - top-notch Brummy sludge-stoners
We Happened Next - local thrash duo - lightning fast, gr - Royal Oak, Chorlton
27 Plank / Klaus Kinski; unpredictable disco-noise-bash /NASDAQ - Fuel £3
28 Kong / Apes Fight Back - Ruby Lounge
***March***
1 Plank! support DD/MM/YY - Ruby Lounge
5 LoneLady - Ruby Lounge
7 White Hills / Pontiack - Ruby Lounge
11 Retribution Gospel Choir - Ruby Lounge (Wot God Forgot) £8
Low's Alan Sparhawke's harder rockin' trio
11 Autechre - Pure... OOPS Big Gig Clash!!!
Rock hellfire vs. mouse pushers, where is Pure anyway?
19 Former Bullies - Night and Day
20 Lightning Ensemble featuring Evan Parker
Evan Parker: Saxophones
Richard Scott: Buchla Lightning
Stephen Grew: Piano
Phillip Marks: Percussion
Cross Street Chapel
20 The Stranglers - Academy
21 A Silver Mount Zion - Academy
22 The Album Leaf - Deaf Institute
25 Picastro / Paddy Steer - Dulcimer
26 Bad Uncle - Fuel
27 Neil Young tribute /open mic - Fuel
28 The Noise Upstairs - Fuel
31 Former Bullies - Trof Northern Quarter
2009 Albums
These are all the albums released in 2009 that I listened to and enjoyed, in approximate order of preference. I expect I'd like the new Pelican album too, but I haven't heard it yet! No doubt I'd also like Flipper's Love album if I could actually find a copy in a shop.
Fennesz - Black Sea (Touch)
Jello Biafra and the Guantanamo School of Medecine - The Audacity of Hype (Alternative Tentacles)
Melt Banana - Lite Live ver 0.0 (A-Zap)
Dinosaur Jr - Farm (Pias)
Mission of Burma - The Sound The Speed The Light (Matador)
Big Sexy Noise - Big Sexy Noise (Sartorial)
PJ Harvey and John Parish - A Woman A Man Walked By (Island)
Arbouretum - Song of the Pearl (Thrill Jockey)
Tortoise - Beacons of Ancestorship (Thrill Jockey)
Faust - C'est Com... Com... Complique (Bureau B)
Soulsavers - Broken (V2)
Califone - All My Friends Are Funeral Singers (Dead Oceans)
Tara Jane O'Neil - A Ways Away (K)
James Blackshaw - The Glass Bead Game (Young God)
Yo La Tengo - Popular Songs (Matador)
Obits - I Blame You (Sub Pop)
Nancy Elizabeth - Wrought Iron (Leaf)
Flaming Lips - Embryonic (WEA)
Meat Puppets - Sewn Together (Meat Puppets)
Dalek - Gutter Tactics (Ipecac)
Alice Donut - Ten Glorious Animals (Alternative Tentacles)
Oneida - Rated O (Jagjaguar)
Part Chimp - Thriller (Rock Action)
Evangelista - Prince of Truth (Constellation)
That Fucking Tank - Tanknology (Gringo)
Slumberwood - Yawling Night Songs (A Silent Place)
Lisa Germano - Magic Neighbor (Young God)
Lou Barlow - Goodnight Unknown (Domino)
Daniel Johnston - Is and Always Was (Feraltone)
Therapy? - Crooked Timber (DR2)
Yellow Swans - Mort Aux Vaches (Staalplaat)
We Be the Echo - Masks (Chuckbeat)
Action Beat - The Noise Band From Bletchley (Truth Cult)
The Present - The Way We Are (Loaf)
Sweat and Skin - Lovetune for Vacuum (Pias)
Tarwater - Donne-Moi La Main (Gusstaff)
Githead - Landing (Swim)
Lightning Bolt - Earthly Delights (Load)
Stranger Son of WB - Einstein's Getaway (White Box)
Mountains - Choral (Thrill Jockey)
Gilded Palace of Sin - You Break Our Hearts We'll Rip Yours Out (Central Control)
Sleeping Dog - Polar Life (Gizeh)
Mark Eitzel - Klamath (Decor)
Anni Rossi - Rockwell (4AD)
Joe Gideon and the Shark - Harum Scarum (Bronzerat)
OOIOO - Armonico Hewa (Thrill Jockey)
Jim O'Rourke - The Visitor (Drag City)
Samson and Delilah (Little Red Rabbit)
David Grubbs - An Optimist Notes the Dusk (Drag City)
Hanne Hukkelberg - Blood From A Stone (Leaf)
Sonic Youth - The Eternal (Matador)
Thee Oh Sees - Help (In the Red)
Six Organs of Admittance - Luminous Night (Drag City)
Ben Frost - By the Throat (Bedroom Community)
Chuck Prophet - Let Freedom Ring (Cooking Vinyl)
Magik Markers - Balf Quarry (Drag City)
A Hawk and a Hacksaw - Deliverence (Leaf)
Jackie O Motherfucker - Ballads of the Revolution (Fire)
Vowels - Pattern Prism (Loaf)
Kalbakken - Then I Saw Summer and Sun on the Earth (Little Red Rabbit)
Jack Rose and the Black Twig Pickers - Beautiful Happiness
Nurse With Wound - Paranoia in Hi Fi (United Dirter)
Shiggajon - Fire Sange I Gul Og Rod (Singing Knives)
Pissed Jeans - King of Jeans (Sub Pop)
Radian - Chimeric (Thrill Jockey)
Speck Mountain - Some Sweet Relief (Carrot Top)
Bowerbirds - Upper Air (Dead Oceans)
Starless and Bible Black - Shape of the Shape (Static Caravan)
Jeffrey Lewis and the Junkyard - 'Em Are I (Rough Trade)
Blk Jks - After Robots (Co Op)
Pere Ubu - Long Live Pere Ubu! (Cooking Vinyl)
Digital Leather - Warm Brother (Fat Possum)
The Courtesy Group - Tradesman's Entrance (Ma Doocey)
Debbie Leggo - Debbs Leggs (Fire)
Jim Jones Revue (Punk Rock Blues)
David Cronenberg's Wife - Hypnagogues
Reissues
Magazine - Play
Loop - A Gilded Etrenity
Loop - The World in Your Eyes
Daniel Johnston - Hi How Are You?
Daniel Johnston - Yip Jump Music
Subhumans - Death Was Too Kind
Flipper - Generic
Flipper - Gone Fishin'
Flipper - Public Flipper Limited
Flipper - Sex Bomb Baby
Six that got away!
I was bound to forget a few albums I enjoyed and these were those:
Mudhoney - Live at El Sol (Munster)
Pontiack - Maker (Thrill Jockey)
Foetus - Limb (Ectopic Ents)
Moebius - Kram (Klangbad)
Hayward / Coxon / Thomas / Taylor - About (Treader)
Mono - Hymn to the Immortal Wind (Human Highway / Conspiracy)
And how could I forget...
Bardo Pond - Peri (Three Lobed)
...and the other five Bardo Pond related albums from the Nightmare that might have been released in 2008 or 2009
Bardo Pond - Volume VII CDR
Sunn O))) - Monoliths and Dimensions (Southern Lord)
The Drones - Havilah (All Tomorrow's Parties)
7" SINGLES
Melt Banana - Initial T (Init)
Melt Banana / Young Widows (Temporary Residence)
Nightmarchers - Scene Report
Nightmarchers - Mystery Machine
Soulsavers - Sunrise (V2)
Fennesz - Black Sea (Touch)
Jello Biafra and the Guantanamo School of Medecine - The Audacity of Hype (Alternative Tentacles)
Melt Banana - Lite Live ver 0.0 (A-Zap)
Dinosaur Jr - Farm (Pias)
Mission of Burma - The Sound The Speed The Light (Matador)
Big Sexy Noise - Big Sexy Noise (Sartorial)
PJ Harvey and John Parish - A Woman A Man Walked By (Island)
Arbouretum - Song of the Pearl (Thrill Jockey)
Tortoise - Beacons of Ancestorship (Thrill Jockey)
Faust - C'est Com... Com... Complique (Bureau B)
Soulsavers - Broken (V2)
Califone - All My Friends Are Funeral Singers (Dead Oceans)
Tara Jane O'Neil - A Ways Away (K)
James Blackshaw - The Glass Bead Game (Young God)
Yo La Tengo - Popular Songs (Matador)
Obits - I Blame You (Sub Pop)
Nancy Elizabeth - Wrought Iron (Leaf)
Flaming Lips - Embryonic (WEA)
Meat Puppets - Sewn Together (Meat Puppets)
Dalek - Gutter Tactics (Ipecac)
Alice Donut - Ten Glorious Animals (Alternative Tentacles)
Oneida - Rated O (Jagjaguar)
Part Chimp - Thriller (Rock Action)
Evangelista - Prince of Truth (Constellation)
That Fucking Tank - Tanknology (Gringo)
Slumberwood - Yawling Night Songs (A Silent Place)
Lisa Germano - Magic Neighbor (Young God)
Lou Barlow - Goodnight Unknown (Domino)
Daniel Johnston - Is and Always Was (Feraltone)
Therapy? - Crooked Timber (DR2)
Yellow Swans - Mort Aux Vaches (Staalplaat)
We Be the Echo - Masks (Chuckbeat)
Action Beat - The Noise Band From Bletchley (Truth Cult)
The Present - The Way We Are (Loaf)
Sweat and Skin - Lovetune for Vacuum (Pias)
Tarwater - Donne-Moi La Main (Gusstaff)
Githead - Landing (Swim)
Lightning Bolt - Earthly Delights (Load)
Stranger Son of WB - Einstein's Getaway (White Box)
Mountains - Choral (Thrill Jockey)
Gilded Palace of Sin - You Break Our Hearts We'll Rip Yours Out (Central Control)
Sleeping Dog - Polar Life (Gizeh)
Mark Eitzel - Klamath (Decor)
Anni Rossi - Rockwell (4AD)
Joe Gideon and the Shark - Harum Scarum (Bronzerat)
OOIOO - Armonico Hewa (Thrill Jockey)
Jim O'Rourke - The Visitor (Drag City)
Samson and Delilah (Little Red Rabbit)
David Grubbs - An Optimist Notes the Dusk (Drag City)
Hanne Hukkelberg - Blood From A Stone (Leaf)
Sonic Youth - The Eternal (Matador)
Thee Oh Sees - Help (In the Red)
Six Organs of Admittance - Luminous Night (Drag City)
Ben Frost - By the Throat (Bedroom Community)
Chuck Prophet - Let Freedom Ring (Cooking Vinyl)
Magik Markers - Balf Quarry (Drag City)
A Hawk and a Hacksaw - Deliverence (Leaf)
Jackie O Motherfucker - Ballads of the Revolution (Fire)
Vowels - Pattern Prism (Loaf)
Kalbakken - Then I Saw Summer and Sun on the Earth (Little Red Rabbit)
Jack Rose and the Black Twig Pickers - Beautiful Happiness
Nurse With Wound - Paranoia in Hi Fi (United Dirter)
Shiggajon - Fire Sange I Gul Og Rod (Singing Knives)
Pissed Jeans - King of Jeans (Sub Pop)
Radian - Chimeric (Thrill Jockey)
Speck Mountain - Some Sweet Relief (Carrot Top)
Bowerbirds - Upper Air (Dead Oceans)
Starless and Bible Black - Shape of the Shape (Static Caravan)
Jeffrey Lewis and the Junkyard - 'Em Are I (Rough Trade)
Blk Jks - After Robots (Co Op)
Pere Ubu - Long Live Pere Ubu! (Cooking Vinyl)
Digital Leather - Warm Brother (Fat Possum)
The Courtesy Group - Tradesman's Entrance (Ma Doocey)
Debbie Leggo - Debbs Leggs (Fire)
Jim Jones Revue (Punk Rock Blues)
David Cronenberg's Wife - Hypnagogues
Reissues
Magazine - Play
Loop - A Gilded Etrenity
Loop - The World in Your Eyes
Daniel Johnston - Hi How Are You?
Daniel Johnston - Yip Jump Music
Subhumans - Death Was Too Kind
Flipper - Generic
Flipper - Gone Fishin'
Flipper - Public Flipper Limited
Flipper - Sex Bomb Baby
Six that got away!
I was bound to forget a few albums I enjoyed and these were those:
Mudhoney - Live at El Sol (Munster)
Pontiack - Maker (Thrill Jockey)
Foetus - Limb (Ectopic Ents)
Moebius - Kram (Klangbad)
Hayward / Coxon / Thomas / Taylor - About (Treader)
Mono - Hymn to the Immortal Wind (Human Highway / Conspiracy)
And how could I forget...
Bardo Pond - Peri (Three Lobed)
...and the other five Bardo Pond related albums from the Nightmare that might have been released in 2008 or 2009
Bardo Pond - Volume VII CDR
Sunn O))) - Monoliths and Dimensions (Southern Lord)
The Drones - Havilah (All Tomorrow's Parties)
7" SINGLES
Melt Banana - Initial T (Init)
Melt Banana / Young Widows (Temporary Residence)
Nightmarchers - Scene Report
Nightmarchers - Mystery Machine
Soulsavers - Sunrise (V2)
Ten Years of All Tomorrow's Parties: Sunday
Shellac played first every day at Camber Sands when they curated ATP so that they could kick back and watch all the other bands they'd chosen. They revisited that time by opening the Sunday afternoon noise feast, and a better way to start Sunday afternoon you'd be hard pushed to find. That is of course unless you were dumb enough to drink way too much on Saturday and felt like shit. Since I only had a couple of glasses of wine, I was in there early right down the front in the trajectory of the guitar amp. Steve Albini has a great vicious ripshit guitar sound and its good to get as much of it as possible while you can before he forms his body in the shpe of a plane and flies off over the city looking for a poker game. Luckily Todd Trainer's hairdresser hadn't broken down, so he flailed inimitably at the drums at the front of the stage, making hilarious moves only occasionally upstaged by Steve. Maybe someoen should buy him a studded TT leather jacket? There were a few songs repeated from their previous day's performance, and the song lots of people had been wanting to hear, "Prayer to God" was upended over our ears in a slower more restrained holy day fashion. "The End of Radio" had some very ad libbed vocals, still open ended and mutating apocalyptically to fit any occasion. Bob took some question while Steve tuned his guitar, as is customary at Shellac gigs, so I asked why they had played at the same time as the Dirty Three on Saturday. He replied, "So that you couldn't see us twice." Hell, I've seen both bands so many times I've lost count so missing half a gig here and half a gig there isn't the end of the world, not just yet anyway. The man who once made "Songs About Fucking" had complaints about fucking. It seemed two of Steve's neighbours had been at it all night yelping and groaning loud enough to keep him up, so he kindly requested they stay chaste between the hours of 2am and 7am so that he could catch some sleep. There was an excellent new song played near the end that seemed to tell the story of the same war bloodied character they'd lamented the previous day. They also played "Killers" which I don't recall hearing them play live before, and that old Festive Fifty favourite "Crow." Last came "Spoke" with Bob and Steve dismantling the drum kit as Todd played on until there was just one drum left. Steve carried Todd off the stage to a jolly good round of well deserved applause.
The Magic Band kicked into "Click Clack" just as I got a coffee and I headed on up to the front of the Pavillion stage. They'd been the highlight of the Autechre ATP, a blessed relief from an overdose of laptop mouse shufflers. Apparently they'd been dormant and might have remained so had Barry Hogan not requested their presence at Butlins. At first I thought Gary Lucas had revealed himself to be a renegade Timelord, and regenerated to a younger incarnation. He hadn't made it over and had been replaced by a younger but no less able guitarist dressed in a suit and tie. The drummer was also a youngblood, keeping those complex beats for portly Rockette Morton and Denny Whalley to weave magic within. Armed with hat and harmonica Drumbo headed up the retro party, taking in songs mostly from "Troutmask Replica," "The Spotlight Kid," "Clear Spot" and "Shiny Beast." as he'd said at Camber Sands back in 2003, he wasn't trying to fill Beefheart's shoes, but as his biggest fan, pay homage to his songs. When he asked if anyone had any questions I asked who the guitarist and drummer were, but he misheard and thought I'd asked if he wasn't playing the drums. So that was two bands in a row who I'd directed a question to.
Deerhoof were cute and angular in their funny little way, playing a cover of "All Tomorrow's Parties." Someone had to do it! The small singing bassist apologised for nauseating someone or other and between songs I walked about shouting, "We wanna be free to do what we wanna do, we wanna ride our machines without being hassled by the man! And we wanna get loaded!" Yes, I was waiting for Mudhoney. They took their time setting up, and then really weren't loud enough, but made up for that with probably the most energetic performance of the weekend. I was down the front until they played "Touch Me I'm Sick" and the crowd went wild. I'd seen them too many times to count, and they have never failed to play a great, fun gig and make it seem like there is nothing better to do than play in a rock'n'roll band.
Explosions in the Sky should be called Sanity Clause and His Bobbing Elves due to the way they sound like Christmas and the way they move about on stage. When they play the quiet bits they have to sit down rest after tossing their guitars up and down in the noisy bits. I liked them more when I didn't look at the stage. I liked them a lot more when they were playing gigs to fifty to a hundred people, and didn't ham it up so much, but they still make nice music.
Sunn O))) were even better than the day before, playing a choirless rendition of "Monoliths and Dimensions." Carbon dioxide billowed, bass drones ruptured realities and a new world formed from clouds. The singer screamed like hellfire and intoned magickal incantations, as smoke poured from his cowled body, purging our environment of Fuck Buttons' crap drum machine which could occasionally be heard rattling away downstairs during the quieter moments. Towards the end he appeared in a sun shaped head dress with red lazer implants, transformed into a creature from a new world where brain frying drones trump tinny retrocrud monotonous drum machines. In the aftermath it slowly dawned that the rest of the evening's music was for the most part going to seem like a damp squib.
Mars Travolta sounded thoroughly repulsive, like the kind of music punk rock was supposed to destroy. They'd been given a two hour set, and no other bands were billed in opposition to the second half. I ran into Bardo Pond, a band truly deserving a two hour set, in the chippy and they agreed that the Mars Travolta sounded fucking abysmal. I discovered that I couldn't eat the special vegetable curry as some fool had made it with wheat noodles. This was the first and I hope the last time that I have ever seen curry made with noodles. I guess they must have been cheaper than using proper vegetables, lentils or beans? The only thing I could find that I could eat in Butlins take away wheat/meat hell were the repulsive greasy chips. I knew I'd only eat about ten and end up throwing the rest away, so I went to the supermarket in the arcade and bought a tin of wheat free baked beans which I ate cold from the can. Sleepy Sun played their hippy dippy dopey music to a decidedly underfilled Central Stage whilst I scoffed beans. I was diggin' their woovy groovy retro soft rock even less than earlier in the week. After Sunn O))) they seemd so weak and pathetic that they were hardly even there.
Apse were amusing in Reds as I was getting tired and the lighting kept making me think they were fronted by a singing pig. This kept me entertained for a while but then I fucked up by getting curious enough to check out Tall Firs, who turned out to be rather bland but not wholly unpleasant in a watered down Pavement fashion. It was nice to run into my old friend Greg Neale the photographer who'd solved my temporary homelessness problem at the Slint ATP, but when I headed back downstairs to Reds I found the queue to get in to hear and probably not see Lightning Bolt so long I gave up on it. The Bolt could be heard rumbling away from outside and drunken smokers in the covered area outside started playing along with cup on table percussion until humourless security ordered them to desist. Don't be 'avin' too much fun at Butlins! I ran into Mick Turner, who'd bailed out on Lightning Bolt to smoke, on my way back up to Centre stage to see Polvo. Then half of Bardo Pond materialised with a bold plan to jump the queue to Reds with their band passes. I'd already decided I'd rather see Polvo fir the third time in my life, and headed up to hear them play a set that was comically interrupted by Lightning Bolt kicking up a storm downstairs. Polvo were the only band to actually make any lasting impression after the Sunday Sunn O))) headcleaner but if they'd been billed to clash with the second half of the Mars Travolta's hideous jamfest and Lightning Bolt had played last on Central stage so that everyone could get in to see them, it would have made a much better end to the weekend. It was nice to run into my old friend Karren Ablaze! after the "Enemy Insects" had flown away, but I lost her and found the guitar slinging half of Bardo Pond. They were looking to party some more but I bailed out back to my hotel where some moron had put the front door on the latch so I couldn't get in again. This time I climbed up onto the roof, and opened the unlocked window to my room and climbed in. The next day at just past 9am a woman opened the door of my room and let herself in, making a quick apology and a hasty exit when she saw I was sitting up in bed looking at her. It seemed as though she might well have been expecting to find the room empty. I got a refund and caught the bus to London for more Om and Sunn O))) before heading home to hibernate.
Check out Greg's photos here
http://www.neatephotos.com/new-ten-years-of-atp-200/
The Magic Band kicked into "Click Clack" just as I got a coffee and I headed on up to the front of the Pavillion stage. They'd been the highlight of the Autechre ATP, a blessed relief from an overdose of laptop mouse shufflers. Apparently they'd been dormant and might have remained so had Barry Hogan not requested their presence at Butlins. At first I thought Gary Lucas had revealed himself to be a renegade Timelord, and regenerated to a younger incarnation. He hadn't made it over and had been replaced by a younger but no less able guitarist dressed in a suit and tie. The drummer was also a youngblood, keeping those complex beats for portly Rockette Morton and Denny Whalley to weave magic within. Armed with hat and harmonica Drumbo headed up the retro party, taking in songs mostly from "Troutmask Replica," "The Spotlight Kid," "Clear Spot" and "Shiny Beast." as he'd said at Camber Sands back in 2003, he wasn't trying to fill Beefheart's shoes, but as his biggest fan, pay homage to his songs. When he asked if anyone had any questions I asked who the guitarist and drummer were, but he misheard and thought I'd asked if he wasn't playing the drums. So that was two bands in a row who I'd directed a question to.
Deerhoof were cute and angular in their funny little way, playing a cover of "All Tomorrow's Parties." Someone had to do it! The small singing bassist apologised for nauseating someone or other and between songs I walked about shouting, "We wanna be free to do what we wanna do, we wanna ride our machines without being hassled by the man! And we wanna get loaded!" Yes, I was waiting for Mudhoney. They took their time setting up, and then really weren't loud enough, but made up for that with probably the most energetic performance of the weekend. I was down the front until they played "Touch Me I'm Sick" and the crowd went wild. I'd seen them too many times to count, and they have never failed to play a great, fun gig and make it seem like there is nothing better to do than play in a rock'n'roll band.
Explosions in the Sky should be called Sanity Clause and His Bobbing Elves due to the way they sound like Christmas and the way they move about on stage. When they play the quiet bits they have to sit down rest after tossing their guitars up and down in the noisy bits. I liked them more when I didn't look at the stage. I liked them a lot more when they were playing gigs to fifty to a hundred people, and didn't ham it up so much, but they still make nice music.
Sunn O))) were even better than the day before, playing a choirless rendition of "Monoliths and Dimensions." Carbon dioxide billowed, bass drones ruptured realities and a new world formed from clouds. The singer screamed like hellfire and intoned magickal incantations, as smoke poured from his cowled body, purging our environment of Fuck Buttons' crap drum machine which could occasionally be heard rattling away downstairs during the quieter moments. Towards the end he appeared in a sun shaped head dress with red lazer implants, transformed into a creature from a new world where brain frying drones trump tinny retrocrud monotonous drum machines. In the aftermath it slowly dawned that the rest of the evening's music was for the most part going to seem like a damp squib.
Mars Travolta sounded thoroughly repulsive, like the kind of music punk rock was supposed to destroy. They'd been given a two hour set, and no other bands were billed in opposition to the second half. I ran into Bardo Pond, a band truly deserving a two hour set, in the chippy and they agreed that the Mars Travolta sounded fucking abysmal. I discovered that I couldn't eat the special vegetable curry as some fool had made it with wheat noodles. This was the first and I hope the last time that I have ever seen curry made with noodles. I guess they must have been cheaper than using proper vegetables, lentils or beans? The only thing I could find that I could eat in Butlins take away wheat/meat hell were the repulsive greasy chips. I knew I'd only eat about ten and end up throwing the rest away, so I went to the supermarket in the arcade and bought a tin of wheat free baked beans which I ate cold from the can. Sleepy Sun played their hippy dippy dopey music to a decidedly underfilled Central Stage whilst I scoffed beans. I was diggin' their woovy groovy retro soft rock even less than earlier in the week. After Sunn O))) they seemd so weak and pathetic that they were hardly even there.
Apse were amusing in Reds as I was getting tired and the lighting kept making me think they were fronted by a singing pig. This kept me entertained for a while but then I fucked up by getting curious enough to check out Tall Firs, who turned out to be rather bland but not wholly unpleasant in a watered down Pavement fashion. It was nice to run into my old friend Greg Neale the photographer who'd solved my temporary homelessness problem at the Slint ATP, but when I headed back downstairs to Reds I found the queue to get in to hear and probably not see Lightning Bolt so long I gave up on it. The Bolt could be heard rumbling away from outside and drunken smokers in the covered area outside started playing along with cup on table percussion until humourless security ordered them to desist. Don't be 'avin' too much fun at Butlins! I ran into Mick Turner, who'd bailed out on Lightning Bolt to smoke, on my way back up to Centre stage to see Polvo. Then half of Bardo Pond materialised with a bold plan to jump the queue to Reds with their band passes. I'd already decided I'd rather see Polvo fir the third time in my life, and headed up to hear them play a set that was comically interrupted by Lightning Bolt kicking up a storm downstairs. Polvo were the only band to actually make any lasting impression after the Sunday Sunn O))) headcleaner but if they'd been billed to clash with the second half of the Mars Travolta's hideous jamfest and Lightning Bolt had played last on Central stage so that everyone could get in to see them, it would have made a much better end to the weekend. It was nice to run into my old friend Karren Ablaze! after the "Enemy Insects" had flown away, but I lost her and found the guitar slinging half of Bardo Pond. They were looking to party some more but I bailed out back to my hotel where some moron had put the front door on the latch so I couldn't get in again. This time I climbed up onto the roof, and opened the unlocked window to my room and climbed in. The next day at just past 9am a woman opened the door of my room and let herself in, making a quick apology and a hasty exit when she saw I was sitting up in bed looking at her. It seemed as though she might well have been expecting to find the room empty. I got a refund and caught the bus to London for more Om and Sunn O))) before heading home to hibernate.
Check out Greg's photos here
http://www.neatephotos.com/new-ten-years-of-atp-200/
Ten Years of All Tomorrow's Parties: Saturday
Papa M was billed as playing "From A Shark Cage," but so entrancing was his rendition that it seemed to me that he'd boiled down a fifty minute album to a twenty minute live set. I watched from the stage dive barrier as he picked magic from six strings, aided for the most part by a bassist and second guitarist. It was an immaculate performance, even if some of the album had gone AWOL. Maybe the song with the phone messages got a call up to go fight an illegal war in Afghanistan? When David mentioned Abe Lincoln for some reason that has now slid into lost memory because it won't help me survive to remember why, I got a chance to do a heavy heckle which raised a few laughs; "Thomas Jefferson: if god is truly just I tremble for the fate of my nation!"
The Pavillion became the playground of two very silly scantily clad Japanese women. The anarchic Afrirampo larked about playing nonsense rock, both yelping and dancing about as much as playing guitar and drums. I guess if you're wearing a bikini covered in fluffy bits in Winter, you need to keep moving. There was no doubting their momentum could take them to parts most other bands wouldn't even think of travelling to, but it wasn't too hard to tear myself away to catch the latter part of Om's much darker set upstairs. Om were diggin' up Lazarus again and the big stage suited their low heavy sound, but this didn't have the atmosphere of their Crazy Horse gig.
Shellac played some of their songs. These included: My Black Ass, a slowed down Canada, Copper, A Minute and a sombre new requiem where they sang, "Oh what a friend was Gary." When they kicked into The Squirrel Song intro I decided it was time to head downstairs to hear the Dirty Three. I was going to have my gluten free coffee and walnut cake and eat it and made the best of the most irritating clash at All Tomorrow's Parties ever by watching the first half of Shellac's set and the second half of the Dirty Three's more swinging party. The Dirty Three were in full swing and released a set of balloons near the end of their set, again different from the previous three. They proved themselves the heroes of the fortnight and were one of the few bands who took total command of the huge Pavillion.
Porn started out with just one big fat bearded man making a noise. It slowly grew as more folk joined in and in the end there were four noise-smiths wooping it up, including the ubiquitous J Mascis. It was an awesome sound and one hopes fucking Fuck Buttons were listening.
Downstairs Battles had started to destroy any appreciation I used to have of them. Strangely the drummer who used to play in Helmet and the guitarist who used to play in Don Caballero sounded pretty neat, but it was impossible to block out the other two musicians' irksome contributions. Tyondai Braxton had good reason to use a vocoder; without mutation his voice was totally annoying. He was warbling and crap rapping to new jams that didn't grab me at all, ruining whatever small spark might have been there with a stream of gabbling geek speak. Before hearing this, I'd rated Battles above Melvins as band to watch, but as soon as Melvintime hit, I was glad to head back upstairs to avoid this descent into dreck and prove my judgement very wrong indeed.
I've seen Melvins a few times before, but this was by far the best gig I've heard them play. Buzz introduced the band, refering to the bassist dressed as an arab as the man in the suburban turban. Towards the end he left the stage, drawing aside a backdrop to reveal a couple of extra drummers pounding away. The four drummers made an exceptional racket as the man in the suburban turban leapt into the crowd, screaming over and over, "Death waits for no one!"
The Breeders were a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw them, when they played the sloppiest gig I've seen them do. I guess the new rhythm section hadn't worn in so well back then. Today they had an extra guitarist to help out and Kim Deal sat behind the drum kit to sing "Hovering." They played more "Last Splash" and "Pod" songs than ones from their two more recent albums, including my favourite "New Year." They played their infinitely improved take on the song Mark Chapman took too seriously, "Happiness is a Warm Gun." Luckily no one shot Kim Deal. At the end they wheeled out a decaversary birthday cake and asked Barry and Deborah on stage to help them eat it.
The Drones cranked out their intense garage rock so loud I had to move back from the front of the stage. Someone shouted for a song early in the set, to which frontman Gareth Liddiard spat, "We already played it Einstein!" More of their set seemed to be from their earlier albums than from the excellent "Havilah" but I could be wrong as I was lost in the rush of hysterical histrorical blood, piss and puke their blustering emotionally flayed music runs on. They were the first band of the day who made me feel I needed a drink, and the left hand bar was deserted so I quickly got some red wine to guzzle as Gareth ripped his throat ragged. It was a shame more people didn't make the effort to see them as they are one of the most ferocious live acts on the planet these days. Bands don't get to such venomous heights without being road hogs.
Despite being very near the front for the first half of The For Carnation's hushed atmospheric set, it was very difficult to actually hear them. The room was rapidly filling up with drunken arseholes who were more interested in shouting at each other things like, "Oh Wesley isn't this amazing, so very now. It's so amazing I don't even want to listen to it but I think I should hold up my crappy little camera phone and block someone's view of the band so that Ponsonby and Jasper can watch a really bad sounding version with a wobbly picture on Youtube and we can laugh at them while we snort coke grown by starving farmers who were ripped off by a drug cartel that smuggled it across borders up the ass of a mule. Wouldn't that be splendid?" It would have been futile to ask all these loudmouth buffoons to be quiet as there were just too many of them. It would not surprise me to learn that most of them were Londoners, as talking very loudly and spoiling gigs in the quiet parts of songs is an ancient tradition in that city. The For Carnation were mostly quiet parts. It was the most annoying part of the weekend and a case of bad billing. The For Carnation should have played early in the day to avoid the sound of the crowd, who wouldn't have had time to get drunk enough to be so rude. If they had swapped places with Shellac and played after Papa M it would have been perfect, as David Pajo seemed to have the full attention of a much more sober gathering. Pajo was lurking by the sound desk, talking to a lady. I noticed this as I made a futile trip back there hoping the music would be louder, but instead the level of inane chatter increased. A tall man with a camera who knew Pajo and the lady began to shout drunkenly at them about five times louder than they'd been talking and when Pajo left continued to shout drunkenly at the lady, paying no attention to the band at all. "Shut the fuck up!" I shouted at him as I stormed off back down the front where some fuckwad was shouting about her septic clit ring. Meanwhile The For Carnation played some songs, one of which was "Empowered Man's Blues" and I was surprised by the number of new ones as this weekend was in general a bit of a golden oldies feast. Sadly the new ones didn't sound as timelessly brilliant as the older ones, but to be fair I was really having to strain to hear them over the gobshites. Brian McMahon was positioned at the back of the stage and had a box with a mike set up on it. When he wasn't singing he'd duck down and hide behind the box. What was he doing down there? Probably holding his head in his hands sobbing, I came all the way from the USA to play one gig for these drunken jabberjaws and I can't even hear myself sing because everyone is talking so damn loud. The drummer was at the front but the band collectively had as much stage presence as Brian's old band Slint; almost none at all.
Sunn O))) did not suffer from similar problems, as their rendition of the "Grimmrobe Sessions" was a total headcleaner vortex. Even if you'd wanted to have a conversation, you'd probably not have been able to work out what you wanted to say. Two dark robed men, heads cowled, loomed out of the billowing fog of dry ice raising guitars skyward as if in worship of a drone demon and let loose a skullfuck mega-hum that was probably setting off earthquakes and tsunamis on the other side of the world. Time slowed and stopped, Sunn O))) had completely taken over the room and created their own small universe where all had to bury their identities in the cleansing drone. Afterwards I felt like I'd never felt before, something had happened to my sense of balance that was quite pleasantly bizarre. I ran into Bardo Pond again as Sunn O))) stopped burning and they were all similarly enthused. It was cold outside. The creation of a new universe hadn't yet begun, but the old one had been obliterated. The starship heading towards our solar system had to delay to repair extensive damage to its hyper-music drive.
The Pavillion became the playground of two very silly scantily clad Japanese women. The anarchic Afrirampo larked about playing nonsense rock, both yelping and dancing about as much as playing guitar and drums. I guess if you're wearing a bikini covered in fluffy bits in Winter, you need to keep moving. There was no doubting their momentum could take them to parts most other bands wouldn't even think of travelling to, but it wasn't too hard to tear myself away to catch the latter part of Om's much darker set upstairs. Om were diggin' up Lazarus again and the big stage suited their low heavy sound, but this didn't have the atmosphere of their Crazy Horse gig.
Shellac played some of their songs. These included: My Black Ass, a slowed down Canada, Copper, A Minute and a sombre new requiem where they sang, "Oh what a friend was Gary." When they kicked into The Squirrel Song intro I decided it was time to head downstairs to hear the Dirty Three. I was going to have my gluten free coffee and walnut cake and eat it and made the best of the most irritating clash at All Tomorrow's Parties ever by watching the first half of Shellac's set and the second half of the Dirty Three's more swinging party. The Dirty Three were in full swing and released a set of balloons near the end of their set, again different from the previous three. They proved themselves the heroes of the fortnight and were one of the few bands who took total command of the huge Pavillion.
Porn started out with just one big fat bearded man making a noise. It slowly grew as more folk joined in and in the end there were four noise-smiths wooping it up, including the ubiquitous J Mascis. It was an awesome sound and one hopes fucking Fuck Buttons were listening.
Downstairs Battles had started to destroy any appreciation I used to have of them. Strangely the drummer who used to play in Helmet and the guitarist who used to play in Don Caballero sounded pretty neat, but it was impossible to block out the other two musicians' irksome contributions. Tyondai Braxton had good reason to use a vocoder; without mutation his voice was totally annoying. He was warbling and crap rapping to new jams that didn't grab me at all, ruining whatever small spark might have been there with a stream of gabbling geek speak. Before hearing this, I'd rated Battles above Melvins as band to watch, but as soon as Melvintime hit, I was glad to head back upstairs to avoid this descent into dreck and prove my judgement very wrong indeed.
I've seen Melvins a few times before, but this was by far the best gig I've heard them play. Buzz introduced the band, refering to the bassist dressed as an arab as the man in the suburban turban. Towards the end he left the stage, drawing aside a backdrop to reveal a couple of extra drummers pounding away. The four drummers made an exceptional racket as the man in the suburban turban leapt into the crowd, screaming over and over, "Death waits for no one!"
The Breeders were a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw them, when they played the sloppiest gig I've seen them do. I guess the new rhythm section hadn't worn in so well back then. Today they had an extra guitarist to help out and Kim Deal sat behind the drum kit to sing "Hovering." They played more "Last Splash" and "Pod" songs than ones from their two more recent albums, including my favourite "New Year." They played their infinitely improved take on the song Mark Chapman took too seriously, "Happiness is a Warm Gun." Luckily no one shot Kim Deal. At the end they wheeled out a decaversary birthday cake and asked Barry and Deborah on stage to help them eat it.
The Drones cranked out their intense garage rock so loud I had to move back from the front of the stage. Someone shouted for a song early in the set, to which frontman Gareth Liddiard spat, "We already played it Einstein!" More of their set seemed to be from their earlier albums than from the excellent "Havilah" but I could be wrong as I was lost in the rush of hysterical histrorical blood, piss and puke their blustering emotionally flayed music runs on. They were the first band of the day who made me feel I needed a drink, and the left hand bar was deserted so I quickly got some red wine to guzzle as Gareth ripped his throat ragged. It was a shame more people didn't make the effort to see them as they are one of the most ferocious live acts on the planet these days. Bands don't get to such venomous heights without being road hogs.
Despite being very near the front for the first half of The For Carnation's hushed atmospheric set, it was very difficult to actually hear them. The room was rapidly filling up with drunken arseholes who were more interested in shouting at each other things like, "Oh Wesley isn't this amazing, so very now. It's so amazing I don't even want to listen to it but I think I should hold up my crappy little camera phone and block someone's view of the band so that Ponsonby and Jasper can watch a really bad sounding version with a wobbly picture on Youtube and we can laugh at them while we snort coke grown by starving farmers who were ripped off by a drug cartel that smuggled it across borders up the ass of a mule. Wouldn't that be splendid?" It would have been futile to ask all these loudmouth buffoons to be quiet as there were just too many of them. It would not surprise me to learn that most of them were Londoners, as talking very loudly and spoiling gigs in the quiet parts of songs is an ancient tradition in that city. The For Carnation were mostly quiet parts. It was the most annoying part of the weekend and a case of bad billing. The For Carnation should have played early in the day to avoid the sound of the crowd, who wouldn't have had time to get drunk enough to be so rude. If they had swapped places with Shellac and played after Papa M it would have been perfect, as David Pajo seemed to have the full attention of a much more sober gathering. Pajo was lurking by the sound desk, talking to a lady. I noticed this as I made a futile trip back there hoping the music would be louder, but instead the level of inane chatter increased. A tall man with a camera who knew Pajo and the lady began to shout drunkenly at them about five times louder than they'd been talking and when Pajo left continued to shout drunkenly at the lady, paying no attention to the band at all. "Shut the fuck up!" I shouted at him as I stormed off back down the front where some fuckwad was shouting about her septic clit ring. Meanwhile The For Carnation played some songs, one of which was "Empowered Man's Blues" and I was surprised by the number of new ones as this weekend was in general a bit of a golden oldies feast. Sadly the new ones didn't sound as timelessly brilliant as the older ones, but to be fair I was really having to strain to hear them over the gobshites. Brian McMahon was positioned at the back of the stage and had a box with a mike set up on it. When he wasn't singing he'd duck down and hide behind the box. What was he doing down there? Probably holding his head in his hands sobbing, I came all the way from the USA to play one gig for these drunken jabberjaws and I can't even hear myself sing because everyone is talking so damn loud. The drummer was at the front but the band collectively had as much stage presence as Brian's old band Slint; almost none at all.
Sunn O))) did not suffer from similar problems, as their rendition of the "Grimmrobe Sessions" was a total headcleaner vortex. Even if you'd wanted to have a conversation, you'd probably not have been able to work out what you wanted to say. Two dark robed men, heads cowled, loomed out of the billowing fog of dry ice raising guitars skyward as if in worship of a drone demon and let loose a skullfuck mega-hum that was probably setting off earthquakes and tsunamis on the other side of the world. Time slowed and stopped, Sunn O))) had completely taken over the room and created their own small universe where all had to bury their identities in the cleansing drone. Afterwards I felt like I'd never felt before, something had happened to my sense of balance that was quite pleasantly bizarre. I ran into Bardo Pond again as Sunn O))) stopped burning and they were all similarly enthused. It was cold outside. The creation of a new universe hadn't yet begun, but the old one had been obliterated. The starship heading towards our solar system had to delay to repair extensive damage to its hyper-music drive.
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