Hard Pill To Swallow

Right, I'm in a hurry tonight, so we'll keep it simple: a recent review, from Nightshift, of three acts: good, so-so, and rubbish. The most fun ratio for a reviewer, really.

THE MEDICINE/ THE MOUNTAIN PARADE/ DUOTONE - Coo Coo Club, Jericho Tavern, 10/1/09

The sonic pairing in the name is presumably that of acoustic guitar and ‘cello, but Duotone is a one man operation, and that man is Barney Morse-Brown. With the aid of a loop pedal Barney strings together some meltingly gorgeous licks and melodic fragments, until his music sounds alternately like Nick Drake in a hall of mirrors, and Sibelius’ “Swan Of Tuonela” caressed by Arthur Russell’s sleepy ghost. The only weak point in a stunning set is the vocal: Barney’s voice, whilst not unpleasant, has all the power and resilience of wet tissue paper, and can’t find a comfortable place in the intricately constructed musical skeins. To be honest, there’s no need to even open your mouth when your ‘cello sings like this, and you’d wait a long long time to see a musician with such a wealth of subtle phrasing opening a gig. Everyone should see Duotone, whether they’re introspective folkies, classical vultures, melodic pop kids or post-rock clever dicks, it’s a treat.

The Mountain Parade’s set is roughly a Concerto For Trumpet, Melodica, Cardigans And Standing Around Sheepishly. Think of the twee-est thing you can, multiply it by glitter to the power of homemade badges, and go from there. The music is quite pleasing – something like Belle & Sebastian at a toddler group – but the performance is so cutesy and ramshackle the only possible reactions are gooey condescension (“How sweet”), or towering rage (“Try to look like you’re making a bloody effort!”). Singer Roxy has a clear limpid voice, and some of the songs are good, especially the history of “Shackleton Bewley, Explorer Extraordinaire”, but whilst we’re not insistent that every gig is a sweat drenched hell pit, we’d rather not feel as if we were watching someone else’s kids in the infant school nativity.

No hint of the unrehearsed or whimsical as The Medicine crack into a tight set of bluesy, roadhouse rock yarns. The playing is faultless, with especial mention for Joel Bassuk’s incisive drumming, but although we have a lot of respect for leader Matt Sage, both for his acoustic performances and his running of the excellent Catweazle and Big Village promotions, the gig gets tedious after about a song and a half. The third number is approximately The Beatles’ “Don’t Let Me Down” as performed by the band who do the incidental music on Friends, whereas the majority of it resembles Bob Dylan’s Oh Mercy LP without the mysterious alchemy that makes it a Dylan album, and whilst we’re not insistent that every show is a heart-rending exploration of the soul, we’d rather not feel as if we were watching someone else’s Dads in a garish small town covers bar on a slow Wednesday.