Swarm of Locus

Second review from the latest Nightshift. These are my thoughts on some of the acts at December's In A Different Place all-dayer, and a bunch of this copy was interleaved in with the editor's review. This actually sort of stands up as cohesive on its own, though.

IN A DIFFERENT PLACE, Bully, 14/12/25 

Opening an all-dayer can be a tough task, but Antonia’s song ‘White Rabbit’ eases us into a long day with gorgeous wispy candyfloss sweetness. The whole of her lilting set is bright and delicate like sunshine through clouds, and our only criticism it’s that she’s too self-deprecating. 

A good festival will always feature some choice covers, but who had vintage hymn ‘He Who Would Valiant Be’ on their bingo card? The setting of Bunyan’s 17th-century verses popped up as part of Pea Sea’s long opening number, along with fluent guitar runs somewhere between the folky intelligence of Richard Thompson and the chilly elegance of Papa M. ‘Silloth Green’ is a more concise tune, gnarly poetic lyrics against chugging guitar giving indie Dylan vibes.

Barrelhaus had to cancel their place at both the first two IADP festivals. They’re here today though. They play one of their melodic riffing rock tunes and it sounds amazing. They start a second. They start it again. After the third time the backing track packs up, the set is abandoned – for Christ’s sake, can someone join the band on drums so they can play in 2026? 

Part of a strong scene is that is provides fertile ground for collaboration, and Ian de Quadros is probably Oxford’s premier sonic connector, so it’s no surprise that a six-song Tiger Mendoza set features 4 guest vocalists. Emma Hunter, Octavia Freud and Helen Pearson all feature elsewhere on today’s bill, but it’s a treat to see Mark, Restructure’s erstwhile ranter onstage again, giving some revolutionary Sleaford mob provocation over a DJ Shadowy beat. On the big Bully stage Tom Martin’s restless visuals have never looked better. 

There’s plenty of party music in the world, but not enough hangover music. The Pink Diamond Revue have cornered this market, their menacing instrumental rock a mixture of acid house wooziness, elementary thumping drums and Duane Eddy guitar twangs which feels euphoric at first, but soon curdles to a queasy paranoia. In case it’s not obvious, this is a very good thing. 

Zarbi also loves the sour times. Their early work was all post-dubstep spaciousness but today the reverbed vocals and scuzzy guitar bury shoegaze sonics beneath a mushroom mulch. Led Zep gave us ‘Misty Mountain Hop’ but Zarbi – wrapped in a dressing gown like the Arthur Dent of underground soundscaping – sounds more like a trudging ‘Mirkwood March’. 

There’s a constant pull between uplifting pop and intense rock to In-Flight Movie’s set. The guitar, synth and drums trio sound like Joy Division one moment, and Numan the next, and even manage to chart a course from Depeche Mode to Explosions In The Sky in one song. This powerful and energetic set might be their best we’ve witnessed, with clear, yearning vocals. 

31hours played the first IADP, and Jo from that band now trades under the name The Cloud, adding his supple falsetto to glitchy guitar and synth parts, sometimes gnarly, with drums as crunchy as Corn Flake pilates, and sometimes surprisingly sweet and jazzy. Inevitably there’s a Radiohead connection, but the reference point that really feels best is noughties Björk, with intricate ideas bombarding songs but never destroying their tuneful catchiness.  

Many people may find Silent Weapon the event's most challenging act, but not us, we love the sound of pummelling industrial electronics that sound like electrified girders sliding down a digital scree slope onto irascible hornets. Anyway, once you attune yourself to the demonic barrage, much of the music can be oddly blissful especially when arpeggios spiral beneath white noise waves. 

Octavia Freud claims that one song tonight is “existential electronica” but it’s a damned sight more fun that this implies. His lairy godfather Mancunian diatribes are sweetened by Emma Hunter’s lovely vocals and bolstered by Ian de Quadros’s chunky guitar. The setlist ranges from therapy to alcohol abuse, but it’s ‘No Venue Situation’ that feels most apposite: “sing our songs until we’re famous”, he sings, but in this room, at least, he already is. 

End on a high is strong advice, so the buoyant sprightliness of Balkan Wanderers is the perfect end to a busy day. Some of the pounding rhythms would feel at home in a speed metal song, but the elegant lightness of the rest of the band keeps the music joyous. Recently recruited vocalist Becs has slotted in seamlessly, and the accordion has given new textures, but it’s still Clare Heaviside’s eloquent clarinet that steals the show. Ending an all-dayer can be a tough task, but only because after bobbing about to ‘Sleep Around’, the best pubic lice ditty ever, nobody wants the band to stop for the night.  Or possibly ever. 

 

Peachy Keen

Nowadays there's no January Nightshift, so as the writing period stretched over two months, I wrote two reviews (I think the maths works out). Here's the first, a review of a very strong EP, go seek it out.

HANNAH LOU LARSEN – PEACH PINE OCEAN (self-release) 

There’s a tendency towards low-level sexism in music criticism in which even positive reviews of female artists tend toward the diminutive, annexing work in a paddock of ornamental prettiness which keeps it away from the citadel of Big Artistic Statements. This is the world in which a towering, mercurial talent like Björk can still be routinely called a charming elfin chanteuse. So, if we describe Hannah Lou Larsen’s new EP as “enchanting”, we’re not using it the way a lounge lizard might describe his Belgravia hostess, but to express how this record feels like a magic(k)al ritual - yes, it’s delicate and airy at times, but the references to the natural world, but lyrically and via field recordings sliced and sprinkled throughout, say more about powerful elemental forces than well-kept gardens and scenic views. 

‘Move Like Rivers’ is the poppiest offering, but even this is unhurried and incantatory, like the mechanical ghost of a Bat For Lashes tune, and shares the mysterious and slightly disorientating air of the whole collection: the title track is underpinned by reverby flaps that sound like someone riffling playing cards in a black hole and which are the sonic equivalent of a confusing labyrinth (it also has some gorgeous snatches of clarinet, as if caught from across a chilly moor, reminding us of Mark Hollis’s glorious solo album). 

‘Memorials’ is amniotic folk, a limpid, melodic autoharp strum, with intimate vocals reminiscent of Stina Nordenstam, whereas ‘I’m Sorry’ foregrounds electronica, giving us a brittle synthesised pizzicato skirmish that sounds like Alex Kidd snapping icicles in a cavern. The vocals here, with their slightly wry tone and subtle treatments, bring to mind Laurie Anderson. Listen to this EP and you’ll fall under its spell...but just maybe not in the cosy way, more in the way in which you check your soul is still all there. 

Look Deep Into The Parker

Seems like a good while since I last posted a review, but we have 3 in quick succession.  First up, here's my take on an album released in 2005. Don't worry if you've not heard of it, I hadn't either.

FRANCESCO CAFISO & STRINGS – A TRIBUTE TO CHARLIE PARKER (Umbria Jazz/ Giotto Music)

The closer we get to the present day, the less likely it is that an album has a significant presence in my mind. I turned 30 in 2005, and from this point onwards my income  allowed me to purchase so many more records than I once could have imagined, whilst the time I have to actually play them has withered, so twenty-first century albums just impinge less on my psyche, no matter how good they are. When it comes to the cultural experience, distant landmarks loom so much larger than those in proximity. It’s like perspective in reverse. 

So, once again for this issue I’ve just grabbed a CD from the little pile of recent ultra-cheap random charity–shop purchases which happened to have been released in 2005. This review will be written as I spin the disc. As with the Ladytron review I’ve not heard this record, but unlike Ladytron, I’ve never even heard of the artist.  The first question that springs to mind is how one might create a tribute to Parker. His big achievement was in his technique and the fluidity of his playing, the way he brought new ideas to jazz, and it seems that a tribute to that would either involve copying solos note-for-note (a bit pointless), or similarly bringing your own character to standards (in which case, it’s not meaningfully connected to Parker). Even with Hendrix, another great who brought a riotously fresh angle to well-trodden musical structures, there are at least a bunch of his songs to cover, but Parker only penned about twenty tunes. A quick glance over the tracklist reveals no ‘Yardbird Suite’, no ‘Ornithology’, no ‘Ko-Ko’, and every single composition was firmly part of the musical backdrop before Parker got to grips with them. How will this pan out?  Pressing Play...now! 

‘I’ll Remember April’ wafts in with some nice rich syrupy strings. Oh wait, is this all based on Parker’s influential With Strings album (or, originally, pair of 10”s - Pedantic Ed)? Yes, looking more closely at the cover, it very much is – not only does it use the same colour scheme in its quite hideously ugly sleeve, but it says it there in capitals, I just hadn’t noticed. This puts the interpretative element into even more of a straitjacket, as the arrangements are all nailed down, though in another way it makes more sense, perhaps like a new performance of a classical suite. 

Having a little search whilst ‘What Is This Thing Called Love’ spins I find that saxophonist Cafiso was 16 when he made this record. By Gad, already I can see that the playing is preposterously good and confident for that age. His tone so far is more wheedling than Bird’s rich warmth, but that at least brings his own voice to the music. The backing band/chamber orchestra is most elegant too, work has gone into this. ‘Out Of Nowhere’ continues the sophisticated feel, and it’s a great composition from back in 1931 - I first came across it because The Cardigans nodded to it in ‘Travelling With Charlie’ from their retro-twee classic album Life – and it was specifically the perfumed swoon of the Parker version they were thinking of, I’m certain. Then we get ‘Everything Happens To Me’, another grade-A song, and those billowing strings and sweeping harps capture the early-50s vibe immaculately. 

But ‘Summertime’ falls just a little flat. Maybe I’ve heard the tune too many times in my life, but also the sax feels too busy, trying to fill all the gaps rather than flowing, and with a raspy edge: if there’s one thing you can say about Bird, it’s that his playing sounded organic. But a highlight is ‘Dancing In The Dark’ - no, not that one – the sax is so fluent, and it contrasts with the reliable, slightly square arrangements underneath it in just the way Parker’s original takes did. Also, I see that the median sales price on Discogs for this CD is £8.99, I apparently got a bargain. 

As the album continues, my attention begins to wander a little. Perhaps 18 tracks is just too much of this style to experience at once – after all, the first With Strings 10” featured a mere seven. But the tracks are quite formulaic, opening with the strings swelling; a fast nimble sprinkle of sax notes, normally in a descending pattern; the main melody stated twice with a little ornament; an orchestral break; then solos. It definitely works, but a switch-up wouldn’t hurt, which is why ‘Just Friends’ grabs the attention, with the sax line sprightly but not jittery, and gesturing more closely to the sort of thing Parker might have done with a smaller jazz combo, and this is followed by ‘April In Paris’ which puts a focus on the oboe almost as much as the sax, and feels like a vintage Sinatra arrangement. The Latin percussion introduction to ‘Repetition’ - no, not that one – sounds like wild carnivalesque bacchanalia in this context, but it’s the penultimate track, and perhaps should have come in earlier. The final track is the only original, a solo blues called ‘Prayer For Charlie’ and it’s rather lovely, saying more about Cafiso as a player than the rest of the album. 

Overall I’d rate this album as impressive, and possibly as good, but I’m not sure what purpose it serves, beyond being a calling card for a talented young musician: more a demo reel than an artistic statement. The battle between emulating With Strings and adding a personal twist isn’t always won, and throwing in pieces that weren’t part of the original sets feels like overkill. I will keep this record, it is certainly worth another spin or two, and would serve compilations well. One day, though, the lure of £8.99 may prove too much...