Up, Russell & Out

This is a review I did for OHM with my chum Russell Barker (see link to the right). This kind of double-teamed review was the sort of wilfully unprofessional and unwieldy thing we used to do all the time at OHM, just because there were no rules. There was also no money and no mutual comprehension of the concept "deadline", but that's part of the fun of this kind of endeavour.

In retrospect I don't think this particular example of the dialogue review works very well, mostly because Russ and I have such different styles: he's far more considered and impartial, and tends to tell readers stuff like the names of songs, the instrumentation and what the music sounds like. You know, things they want to know. Fools.

The other thing to notice is how much better I am....let's see if he's bothered to read this!

PINEY GIR/ TRADEMARK/ DAVID K FRAMPTON, The Cellar, 21/10/03

DM: They can take my vocal FX unit when they pry it from my cold dead fingers, so I'm predisposed to like David K Frampton, even though this isn't a very successful set. Treated vocals float over little synth loops and cracking 808-type beats, and as such there are more handclaps from the drum machine than from the crowd - draw your own conclusions.

Such is their inherent theatricality, Trademark work better on larger, less intimate stages. And also because Oli is the clumsiest frontman in town, so the more space between his feet and the leads, the better. If you don't yet know, they produce mighty electro-cabaret about human frailty and elementary physics. Tonight's show is their normal labcoated synth-driven joypop, with the addition of a giant perspex plug and an elegant fairytale about destructive interference.

RB: It's true, Trademark's sound seems cramped by the low ceilinged venue. "Stay Professional" struggles to break free of its shackles but "Sine Love" is the sad beautiful tale it always is despite the constrictions imposed upon it. They climax with a new tune which starts out like a synth powered rocker before slipping back into the Trademark style we know and love.

DM: There are three words I promised I wouldn't write in this review. Two of them are "Elfin" and "Bjork", but since I've used them now, what the hell! Take one ex-Vic 20 vocalist, add some toy keyboards, melodica and sweet little songs and you get the general idea of Piney Gir. The sparse sound alternately evokes the ghost of Pram, and a coy, non-swearing Peaches. Somewhat twee for many, perhaps, but I'm happy. "Twee" was the third word, by the way.

RB: There was definitely something bewitching about Piney that overcame the tweeness. Silly little things like forgetting to plug in till halfway through the first song and announcing a song in bossanova style, then struggling to find the right switch on her keyboard. Her face lights up when the rhythm kicks in. She manages to find a suitable saccharine high level and pushes it to the limit without overloading us with sugar coated candyness. And anyone who ends their set with a slow gyrating version of "Let's Get Physical" gets my vote.