Track: Elephant Gun
Album: Lon Gisland E.P
Artist: Beirut
As The Long Blondes said, "19, you're only 19 for god's sake". No. Really. FOR GOD'S SAKE When Zach Condon sings "If I was young I'd leave this town" you almost suspect he's taking the piss. Smug irony aside, Elephant Gun with its lilting ukelele, soaring vocals and kickarse...trumpet solos, is miles better than anything on Gulag Orkestar. My stint driving a Balder with its barely-there turning circle was well timed, they are all the better for waltzing with. Class.
Monday, 18 May 2009
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
Paul Heaton – Rescue Rooms, Nottingham 14/11/07
Cool things dress in black: Johnny Cash, Ninjas, Marks & Spencers Christmas Temps, and now Paul Heaton. He has that haircut too, and against the dingy backdrop of the Rescue Rooms' stage he looks like a Stealth Northerner. If he was going to kill anyone with two fingers I would nominate Peter and The Wolf's drummer, her Effortless Indie annoyed me so much I plucked my chin hair in frustration.
Anyway, back to Paul. The Beautiful South Silvery Haired Saxophone Bloke-- was there, but in the crowd. Onstage, Heaton is joined by strangers; helpfully, they are just as motionless, wear pretty much the same clothes and exactly the same expressions as The Beautiful South. The songs, true to the band's Myspace category of all things, do have a rockabilly quality to them. The Kids These Days hops around like a Housemartins album track before changing tempo for no apparent reason, but She Rolled Her Own preserves Heaton's rhyming couplets at the expense of any real tune. Finally, and this is important, the pee joke in The Pub is not funny. Peeing in pubs in general is not funny, it is an art of timing and concentration.
The solo tunes should grow on me, I just hope they have a chance to. Of the people I spoke to, progressively drunk as I was, I do recall all of them chalked up five Beautiful South gigs or more, we were the hardcore. Can acts that start with a devoted minority move on to bigger things? Because in a sense Heaton is working backwards, we aren't a select few hiding a musical secret from the masses, we are the ones left after his Band of the People split. Rose tinted talk of reunions calls into question how far fans will truly support The Sound Of Paul Heaton, but as I say, the songs are nice enough. What else matters?
Anyway, back to Paul. The Beautiful South Silvery Haired Saxophone Bloke-- was there, but in the crowd. Onstage, Heaton is joined by strangers; helpfully, they are just as motionless, wear pretty much the same clothes and exactly the same expressions as The Beautiful South. The songs, true to the band's Myspace category of all things, do have a rockabilly quality to them. The Kids These Days hops around like a Housemartins album track before changing tempo for no apparent reason, but She Rolled Her Own preserves Heaton's rhyming couplets at the expense of any real tune. Finally, and this is important, the pee joke in The Pub is not funny. Peeing in pubs in general is not funny, it is an art of timing and concentration.
The solo tunes should grow on me, I just hope they have a chance to. Of the people I spoke to, progressively drunk as I was, I do recall all of them chalked up five Beautiful South gigs or more, we were the hardcore. Can acts that start with a devoted minority move on to bigger things? Because in a sense Heaton is working backwards, we aren't a select few hiding a musical secret from the masses, we are the ones left after his Band of the People split. Rose tinted talk of reunions calls into question how far fans will truly support The Sound Of Paul Heaton, but as I say, the songs are nice enough. What else matters?
Iron & Wine + Johnny Flynn [Reading Concert Hall 4/11/07]
I love Iron & Wine. I love the whispering, the banjos and the beard. Mostly the beard. I'd be lying if I said Sam Beam's transition to a full and rather noisier band didn't disappoint me, but the chance to see him live with so little effort on my part was too good to pass up.
After a round of beard spotting in the crowd (well groomed full beard = 10 points ; ratty little trying to be indie beard = -100 points) we sat down to watch Johnny Flynn and the Sussex Wit. This raucous Folk outfit do not appear to be from Sussex, and I question how much wit goes into writing lines like "i'm a plough and you're a furough; I'm a fox and you're a burrow", but there you go. They are enthusiastic multiinstrumentalists with a clear love of banjo and mandolin as used by American acts like Langhorne Slim. But they still find room to fit an olde worlde Engligh aesthetic into their songs. Which is nice.
Then on came Sam with his Big Giant Beard and more recently acquired Big Giant Band. Eight people, to be precise. There's a sense that, still enjoying the novelty, he's eager to include all of them in everything. Dangerous ground for those fans who were won over by the lofi strumming of Creek Drank the Cradle. On Your Wings comes on awkwardly, suffering from the full band approach, at points I want to shoot the critic who said the best thing he produced pre-band was his Postal Service cover. Conversely, Upward Over the Mountain works, all slide guitar and lilting riffs, almost bettering the original.
The songs that suit the band are the ones they recorded in the first place, House by The Sea being an almost unimaginable gamble but very affecting, as is Ressurection Fern (not least because i saw one audience member crying).
When Sam finally picks up his acoustic guitar for Boy With a Coin a heckler shouts in protest, whether sarcastically it's hard to tell. In fact his entourage is only trimmed down for the encore, and that's a song from the Calexico collaboration album.
All in all it was an enjoyable and at times moving set, but Sam would maybe do well to leave at least some time for the older songs to be played acoustically.
After a round of beard spotting in the crowd (well groomed full beard = 10 points ; ratty little trying to be indie beard = -100 points) we sat down to watch Johnny Flynn and the Sussex Wit. This raucous Folk outfit do not appear to be from Sussex, and I question how much wit goes into writing lines like "i'm a plough and you're a furough; I'm a fox and you're a burrow", but there you go. They are enthusiastic multiinstrumentalists with a clear love of banjo and mandolin as used by American acts like Langhorne Slim. But they still find room to fit an olde worlde Engligh aesthetic into their songs. Which is nice.
Then on came Sam with his Big Giant Beard and more recently acquired Big Giant Band. Eight people, to be precise. There's a sense that, still enjoying the novelty, he's eager to include all of them in everything. Dangerous ground for those fans who were won over by the lofi strumming of Creek Drank the Cradle. On Your Wings comes on awkwardly, suffering from the full band approach, at points I want to shoot the critic who said the best thing he produced pre-band was his Postal Service cover. Conversely, Upward Over the Mountain works, all slide guitar and lilting riffs, almost bettering the original.
The songs that suit the band are the ones they recorded in the first place, House by The Sea being an almost unimaginable gamble but very affecting, as is Ressurection Fern (not least because i saw one audience member crying).
When Sam finally picks up his acoustic guitar for Boy With a Coin a heckler shouts in protest, whether sarcastically it's hard to tell. In fact his entourage is only trimmed down for the encore, and that's a song from the Calexico collaboration album.
All in all it was an enjoyable and at times moving set, but Sam would maybe do well to leave at least some time for the older songs to be played acoustically.
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