Just found this review. It was submitted to Oxfordbands.com, but never used. It's not great, to be frank. There are still not enough Steely Dan covers in the world of indie pop.
THE YOUNG KNIVES/ THE EVENINGS/ THE THUMB QUINTET, Audioscope, Port Mahon
The Thompson Twins. Ben Folds Five. The Thumb Quintet: all bands who can't count their own members. Yes, there are only two in The Thumb Quintet (although there are four thumbs) and they each have a guitar. On the basis of tonight's performance, however, they don't need the extra members.
Ben from eeebleee and a chap from Cardboard (both were in X-1, unless I'm much mistaken) have clearly been listening to a bit of Fahey and Jansch lately, and have swapped their noisy amps for some countrified acoustic fingerpicking. Perhaps at times it isn't perfectly fluid but the playing is still beautiful, galloping rhythms suddenly turning up amongst clusters of plucked motifs, and the botleneck slide parts are achingly lovely. I hope that this is more than a one-off arrangement, boys.
Local acts that shouldn't work at an acoustic night? Well, nervous_testpilot would have quite some trouble, and I'd love to see Winnebago Deal attempt to play with a lute and some bongos, but The Evenings would have to come high on the list, right? Wrong!
Proving once again that they are the most original and resourceful band in town, Mark Wilden and his merry troubadours exchange the synths and breakbeats for glockenspiels, sax and percussion. Somehow their funky dance silliness mutates softly into a warm, organic bramble of sound. And silliness.
The first number is subtle and intoxicating, bobbing on Jo Guest's bowed bass; before we know it, everything's pounding and surprisingly loud; next they turn all melancholic and intense: this gig has it all. I also feel they're all concentrating a little harder than recent gigs (Truck, for example). Hell, they even do a cover of "Born Slippy" and it almost works.
The Young Knives are the only act on who don't meet the problems set by the acoustic dictum head on. They don't play badly, and they're as entertaining as ever, complete with funny headwear and the best Scrabble monologue in pop history, but tonight they're just a lesser version of themselves. Like watching Delicatessen or something equally cinemtically lush on a tiny B/W portable, this gig is fine, but necessarily a compromise.
They aren't the greatest singers in town either, are they? Still, always nice to hear a Steely Dan cover, that's something you don't come across enough nowadays. Or ever, come to think of it.
Showing posts with label Evenings The. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Evenings The. Show all posts
Tuesday, 27 April 2010
Thursday, 18 March 2010
Les Mix
This is the second review in which I've used the phrase "Suicide's plastic Elvis shimmy"! I think I just forgot the second time that I'd put it in a review already. I've also knowingly described Baby Gravy's sound as reminiscent of "Gwen Stefani's striplit mall pop" twice, and that was just because I like the sound of it. Sue me. I'll give you 100% of the income from both reviews, if you like.
SMILEX - SMILEX VS OXFORD (Quickfix Recordings)
Remix albums are alwaysa hall of mirrors for the listener, especially the reviewer, unless they're pretty deeply au fait with the styles of all involved: to whom, exactly, is one listening at any given moment, the mixer or the mixee? Smilex amplify the problem, because they haven't exactly released that much material in their own right as yet. In our case, there is an immediate difficulty, in that although we've enjoyed Smilex shows on a few occasions, they tend to blur into one big, damp maelstrom of rock noise and exposed flesh, laced once or twice with a few drops of blood. To be frank we don't recall precisely which song is which. None of this makes the LP any less enjoyable, but it does make the review process something of a minefield. Plus there's only a finite number of times we can type the words "Smilex remix" without it starting to look like joke Latin.
But enough of our problems. You could certainly imagine worse subjects for the remix treatment than Smilex, as their music has an immediately recognisable character, but is pretty simple in construction, all wham, bam thank you ladyboy pseudo-ma'am. This undoubtedly makes the pieces easier to deconstruct.
It's fascinating to see the different approaches on display, some adorning and accessorising the original music, while others rip it to shreds and stitch it back together in grotesque new forms. The first two mixes on the CD, perhaps wisely, choose the former option, boywithatoy sticking beats behind "Quickfix", and The Evenings turning "Sex 4 Sale" into a frenzied chipmunk cabaret. Conversely, The Gentleman Distortionist somehow manages to find a hands aloft, whistle crew pleaser in 16 second miniature "Kidz Klub 666", whereas The Beta Prophecy turn "P.V.C." into a crunchy industrial plod, something like Aphex Twin's "Ventolin" played at half speed. Most extreme of all is Sunnyvale's completely abstract attack on "Noize", which has Smilex reincarnated as tiny worms, crawling through the dense loam of some dank forest floor. It's absolutely superb, but the question remains whether this is a Smilex remix, or a new track sampling a few Smilex moments. A pointless question, we suppose. The Young Knives' mix of "She Won't Get out Of Bed", is one of the most intriguing on offer, surprisingly managing to sound very little like Smilex or TYK, merging a hissy disco pulse with touches of Suicide's plastic Elvis shimmy.
Ultimately Smilex Vs Oxford is rather an odd proposition if you;re looking for that elusive Smilex album, as most of the acts tend to pull the material too far from its source (and if you can tell that the three mixes of "Spike My Drink" are based on the same composition in a blind trial, you should probably just walk straight to the Oxford Music Faculty and pick up your doctorate). Having said that, as a listening experience, this is a wonderful twisted record, which works excellently as a snapshot of what Oxford's more leftfield electronic experimenters are up to: in fact, if there were something from nervous_testpilot and a representative from the My Initials Club label here, we'd almost have a prospectus for Oxford bleepery. Oh, and it's for charity too, raising money for the John Radcliffe's new Children's Hospital...though this record is likely to send most children into hiding under the bedclothes, wailing for the bad men to go away. On reflection, not enough reviews end like that.
SMILEX - SMILEX VS OXFORD (Quickfix Recordings)
Remix albums are alwaysa hall of mirrors for the listener, especially the reviewer, unless they're pretty deeply au fait with the styles of all involved: to whom, exactly, is one listening at any given moment, the mixer or the mixee? Smilex amplify the problem, because they haven't exactly released that much material in their own right as yet. In our case, there is an immediate difficulty, in that although we've enjoyed Smilex shows on a few occasions, they tend to blur into one big, damp maelstrom of rock noise and exposed flesh, laced once or twice with a few drops of blood. To be frank we don't recall precisely which song is which. None of this makes the LP any less enjoyable, but it does make the review process something of a minefield. Plus there's only a finite number of times we can type the words "Smilex remix" without it starting to look like joke Latin.
But enough of our problems. You could certainly imagine worse subjects for the remix treatment than Smilex, as their music has an immediately recognisable character, but is pretty simple in construction, all wham, bam thank you ladyboy pseudo-ma'am. This undoubtedly makes the pieces easier to deconstruct.
It's fascinating to see the different approaches on display, some adorning and accessorising the original music, while others rip it to shreds and stitch it back together in grotesque new forms. The first two mixes on the CD, perhaps wisely, choose the former option, boywithatoy sticking beats behind "Quickfix", and The Evenings turning "Sex 4 Sale" into a frenzied chipmunk cabaret. Conversely, The Gentleman Distortionist somehow manages to find a hands aloft, whistle crew pleaser in 16 second miniature "Kidz Klub 666", whereas The Beta Prophecy turn "P.V.C." into a crunchy industrial plod, something like Aphex Twin's "Ventolin" played at half speed. Most extreme of all is Sunnyvale's completely abstract attack on "Noize", which has Smilex reincarnated as tiny worms, crawling through the dense loam of some dank forest floor. It's absolutely superb, but the question remains whether this is a Smilex remix, or a new track sampling a few Smilex moments. A pointless question, we suppose. The Young Knives' mix of "She Won't Get out Of Bed", is one of the most intriguing on offer, surprisingly managing to sound very little like Smilex or TYK, merging a hissy disco pulse with touches of Suicide's plastic Elvis shimmy.
Ultimately Smilex Vs Oxford is rather an odd proposition if you;re looking for that elusive Smilex album, as most of the acts tend to pull the material too far from its source (and if you can tell that the three mixes of "Spike My Drink" are based on the same composition in a blind trial, you should probably just walk straight to the Oxford Music Faculty and pick up your doctorate). Having said that, as a listening experience, this is a wonderful twisted record, which works excellently as a snapshot of what Oxford's more leftfield electronic experimenters are up to: in fact, if there were something from nervous_testpilot and a representative from the My Initials Club label here, we'd almost have a prospectus for Oxford bleepery. Oh, and it's for charity too, raising money for the John Radcliffe's new Children's Hospital...though this record is likely to send most children into hiding under the bedclothes, wailing for the bad men to go away. On reflection, not enough reviews end like that.
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
Crepuscule's Out
Sorry, I'm busting for the loo, got to go.
THE EVENINGS – LET’S GO REMIXED (FREEDOM ROAD)
Local remix projects: collaborative fruit of a fertile scene, or the tarnish on the gate of the clique enclosure? Discuss with reference to the new Evenings remix album.
OK, we’ll spare you the sophomore essay for now, but it is a vexed question, as remix LPs rarely have any internal logic and often come with the lumpy, lopsided feel of a bootleg rather than the balanced, polished heft of a proper album. Most don’t even have the curatorial input of a compilation, as tracks are accrued at various times from disparate sources, which is especially true in the case of this CD, which was a few years in the making. But, despite the imperfections of the form, this is still an intriguing record, and even if it can’t claim to be as successful as Smilex’ recent mixfest, there are still some gems to be discovered.
Not least the very first track, which could well be the best on the entire album. King Of The Rumbling Spires takes “PA” and lays it out on a warm afternoon to meditate as a cowpoke ambles by at a country lope. It brings to mind long forgotten ambient “supergroup” FFWD (which consisted of members The Orb with Robert Fripp and Thomas Fehlmann) and even blissed out Sunday tea new agers Channel Light Vessel. Other successes must be Boy With A Toy’s ruination of “Golf Audience Reaction To Missed Putt” to a hellish miasma of loops (and if you think that’s a criticism, you don’t know us very well!) and nervous_testpilot’s Hammer House Of Hardcore cheap gothic remake of “Pink Breakfast”. The most conceptually intriguing selection is Wendy And The Brain’s take on “SHRR001”, a jokey spoken word interlude on the original album - the string of chopped samples and FX may not be entirely successful, but it’s a darn sight more amusing than the original flat gag.
At the less enticing end of the spectrum, Oliver Shaw doesn’t do much more than play a bit of guitar over the top of “Harness The Yearn” and Smilex don’t make a vast impact on “Lee The Way”, whereas the second mix of “Let’s Go” is…well, put it like this, we listened to this CD without checking the tracklist, so as to be completely impartial in our response, but it didn’t take us long to work out that this was Twizz Twangle’s effort. Huge chunks of the original are brutally intercut with uncomfortable loops from some 80s soul tune and what sound s like it could be R.E.M. Full marks for audacity, but you’ve got to conclude that this is a failure. Perhaps it’s inevitable that a man who’s gloriously incapable of playing a song the same way twice can’t grasp the idea of the remix?
Between these poles there’s much tuneful techno of a diverting nature, which is well worth a listen, even if it’s fails to live up to The Evenings’ wired wonder. Perhaps it’s because there’s a certain undertow of cheap cabaret about the band. From Mark Wilden’s original dream of a supper band called Tony Fucker & The Evenings to their occasional nod towards phone hold muzak melodies, there’s always been a ghost of some Murph & The Magictones monstrosity behind The Evenings’ music. It could be that upsetting the balance of the original material gives this cheese factor a little too much prominence, and thus the lovely “Minerals” finds itself transformed into two forgettable pieces of synth twiddle. Or it could be that in general remixes are on a hiding to nothing, as they either sound too much like the original to be worth it, or too much like the remixer to make much sense. Maybe only someone who’d never heard of The Evenings could give an honest appraisal of this record. Or The Evenings themselves, of course…
THE EVENINGS – LET’S GO REMIXED (FREEDOM ROAD)
Local remix projects: collaborative fruit of a fertile scene, or the tarnish on the gate of the clique enclosure? Discuss with reference to the new Evenings remix album.
OK, we’ll spare you the sophomore essay for now, but it is a vexed question, as remix LPs rarely have any internal logic and often come with the lumpy, lopsided feel of a bootleg rather than the balanced, polished heft of a proper album. Most don’t even have the curatorial input of a compilation, as tracks are accrued at various times from disparate sources, which is especially true in the case of this CD, which was a few years in the making. But, despite the imperfections of the form, this is still an intriguing record, and even if it can’t claim to be as successful as Smilex’ recent mixfest, there are still some gems to be discovered.
Not least the very first track, which could well be the best on the entire album. King Of The Rumbling Spires takes “PA” and lays it out on a warm afternoon to meditate as a cowpoke ambles by at a country lope. It brings to mind long forgotten ambient “supergroup” FFWD (which consisted of members The Orb with Robert Fripp and Thomas Fehlmann) and even blissed out Sunday tea new agers Channel Light Vessel. Other successes must be Boy With A Toy’s ruination of “Golf Audience Reaction To Missed Putt” to a hellish miasma of loops (and if you think that’s a criticism, you don’t know us very well!) and nervous_testpilot’s Hammer House Of Hardcore cheap gothic remake of “Pink Breakfast”. The most conceptually intriguing selection is Wendy And The Brain’s take on “SHRR001”, a jokey spoken word interlude on the original album - the string of chopped samples and FX may not be entirely successful, but it’s a darn sight more amusing than the original flat gag.
At the less enticing end of the spectrum, Oliver Shaw doesn’t do much more than play a bit of guitar over the top of “Harness The Yearn” and Smilex don’t make a vast impact on “Lee The Way”, whereas the second mix of “Let’s Go” is…well, put it like this, we listened to this CD without checking the tracklist, so as to be completely impartial in our response, but it didn’t take us long to work out that this was Twizz Twangle’s effort. Huge chunks of the original are brutally intercut with uncomfortable loops from some 80s soul tune and what sound s like it could be R.E.M. Full marks for audacity, but you’ve got to conclude that this is a failure. Perhaps it’s inevitable that a man who’s gloriously incapable of playing a song the same way twice can’t grasp the idea of the remix?
Between these poles there’s much tuneful techno of a diverting nature, which is well worth a listen, even if it’s fails to live up to The Evenings’ wired wonder. Perhaps it’s because there’s a certain undertow of cheap cabaret about the band. From Mark Wilden’s original dream of a supper band called Tony Fucker & The Evenings to their occasional nod towards phone hold muzak melodies, there’s always been a ghost of some Murph & The Magictones monstrosity behind The Evenings’ music. It could be that upsetting the balance of the original material gives this cheese factor a little too much prominence, and thus the lovely “Minerals” finds itself transformed into two forgettable pieces of synth twiddle. Or it could be that in general remixes are on a hiding to nothing, as they either sound too much like the original to be worth it, or too much like the remixer to make much sense. Maybe only someone who’d never heard of The Evenings could give an honest appraisal of this record. Or The Evenings themselves, of course…
Saturday, 6 February 2010
Null Points
There are some good points in this review, but I feel it's too long and the tone is wrong. But it's still better than anything you could come up with, isn't it? Minnow.
KK NULL & Z’EV/ THE EVENINGS/ THE DIVINE COILS – Oxfordbands, The Wheatsheaf 12/4/06
Collaborative music-making is often described as “instinctive”, especially if it involves some degree of improvisation. However, after seeing The Divine Coils (essentially a deluxe Holiday Stabbings), a redefinition of “instinctive” is required. Picture four performers hunched over a sprawl of instruments which takes up half of the venue’s floorspace, batting at them, bashing them, scraping them and twisting them in a manner that looks so exploratory it calls to mind the apes at start of 2001: A Space Odyssey. Not that comparing them to monkeys is supposed to be parodic or dismissive, as tonight they produce music of hypnotic delicacy that should be applauded.
Those searching for melody and structure will have gone home downheartened by the performance, but anyone with an ear for the infinite subtleties of drones and textures will be very content with this extended improvisation. Over roughly half an hour guitars are attacked with tools, effects pedals are manhandled and piles of maltreated cymbals are tossed around the room - we’re guessing this is one band without a lucrative Zildjian sponsorship deal. OK, perhaps the music is a tiny bit climax happy, and one can almost sense the performers mentally regrouping for a few moments after particularly tumescent passages, but the organic flow is in general deeply impressive, calmly wafting listeners along (and those expecting a Wolf Eyes meets Merzbow racket will have been surprised by the beauty and warmth of this gig, despite the crashes and shrieks). A recent Holiday Stabbings review claimed that their music is overly complex, “like multi-dimensional string theory”, but I’d argue quite the reverse. The Divine Coils don’t make particularly intellectual music, and again that isn’t a criticism: despite its abrasive edge, this performance is a sensual experience, like an immersion into a warm bath. Oh, alright then, a bloody hot and dangerously turbulent bath that may contain piranhas and shampoo bottles full of hydrochloric acid.
The sleevenotes to Miles Davis Live At The Carnegie Hall have a clear idea of the best thing about live jazz: “mistakes”. A bit of a one-liner, perhaps, but it’s true that creative art ought to ride the borderline between inspiration and disaster, and that there’s nothing so inspiring as watching an artist take a chance. One could apply this dictum to The Evenings, a band that never seem content to rest and always strive to present the listener with something fresh. The downside of this approach, of course, is that not every performance is a bankable success, but this is more than offset by the excitement of discovering what they’ll do next. That a band whose music is based around prerecorded rhythm tracks can approach performance in so many different ways is a minor miracle. So, tonight’s gig is something of a B- when compared to earlier triumphs, but it sees them approach their material in a healthy new light once again.
The recent departure of Stuart Fowkes on electronics has left The Evenings as a fourpiece. Perhaps unsurprisingly in a band that’s now 50% bassists, the music has become that much more solid and serious. It’s not the “folk metal” we were promised online, but it builds around relentless kraut basslines and unstoppable row-yer-bastards drumming like dub for molluscs. In fact, when Mark Wilden eventually launches into one of his signature kit workouts, the effect seems suddenly revolutionary and shockingly light-footed. It’s like Gene Krupa auditioning for Killing Joke. Only “Fizzy Piss” refers back to the old Bentley Rhythm Arse electropop playfulness, the rest of the set is an impressively sturdy lumbering beast. There may be the usual peccadilloes – Seb’s keyboards could do with a little more restraint, and it’s a pity Mark doesn’t have the vocal prowess to match his impassioned delivery – but one of Oxford’s best bands have raised eyebrows once again…not least with the serious volume of the set, which easily drowns out The Divine Coils! We’ve been listening to The Evenings for years now, and the fact that we’re still excited to be guessing what they’ll do next is comfortably the best tribute we can give.
The Wheatsheaf is bombarded with the sound of a dog licking Rice Krispies from a close-miked blanket under Shitmat’s sofa. That’ll be KK Null starting off the final set, then. His position on the stage means we have no idea exactly how he’s making his sounds for the entirety of the gig, but we’re guessing it involves lots of electricity and plenty of buttons. Before long he’s joined by improvising percussionist Z’ev and a vast array of toys for a lengthy and exhausting workout. It’s incredibly difficult to describe purely abstract noise performances, and this duo make The Divine Coils’ tonal wash sound like Debussy by comparison, but despite some brief flashes this gig is pretty disappointing.
The main stumbling block is the apparent lack of communication between the performers. There are some glorious moments, but it feels like they’re reached by pure chance, before being discarded. Perhaps this is evidence of an exciting aleatory approach, but it sounds more like two musicians who aren’t sparking off each other too well. Highlights include a passage marrying gorgeous rubbed gong tones with electronic bird song over spooky theremin lines, or the sound of someone playing Defender next to an imploding junkyard, but there’s equally lots of sonic mulch and water treading on display. Tellingly, Z’ev starts off knocking away at one end of his percussion rack and, hey ho, he’s made it exactly full circle 55 minutes later. One gets the impression he would have doggedly worked his way around his kit in the same manner whatever Null had been doing, and conversely we’re not convinced Null’s paying much attention to the percussion.
In other settings we’re sure these musicians could knock out something special – just check the list of their collaborators - but tonight it feels rather flat. A disappointingly one-dimensional end to what promised to be the most exciting Oxfordbands booking this year.
KK NULL & Z’EV/ THE EVENINGS/ THE DIVINE COILS – Oxfordbands, The Wheatsheaf 12/4/06
Collaborative music-making is often described as “instinctive”, especially if it involves some degree of improvisation. However, after seeing The Divine Coils (essentially a deluxe Holiday Stabbings), a redefinition of “instinctive” is required. Picture four performers hunched over a sprawl of instruments which takes up half of the venue’s floorspace, batting at them, bashing them, scraping them and twisting them in a manner that looks so exploratory it calls to mind the apes at start of 2001: A Space Odyssey. Not that comparing them to monkeys is supposed to be parodic or dismissive, as tonight they produce music of hypnotic delicacy that should be applauded.
Those searching for melody and structure will have gone home downheartened by the performance, but anyone with an ear for the infinite subtleties of drones and textures will be very content with this extended improvisation. Over roughly half an hour guitars are attacked with tools, effects pedals are manhandled and piles of maltreated cymbals are tossed around the room - we’re guessing this is one band without a lucrative Zildjian sponsorship deal. OK, perhaps the music is a tiny bit climax happy, and one can almost sense the performers mentally regrouping for a few moments after particularly tumescent passages, but the organic flow is in general deeply impressive, calmly wafting listeners along (and those expecting a Wolf Eyes meets Merzbow racket will have been surprised by the beauty and warmth of this gig, despite the crashes and shrieks). A recent Holiday Stabbings review claimed that their music is overly complex, “like multi-dimensional string theory”, but I’d argue quite the reverse. The Divine Coils don’t make particularly intellectual music, and again that isn’t a criticism: despite its abrasive edge, this performance is a sensual experience, like an immersion into a warm bath. Oh, alright then, a bloody hot and dangerously turbulent bath that may contain piranhas and shampoo bottles full of hydrochloric acid.
The sleevenotes to Miles Davis Live At The Carnegie Hall have a clear idea of the best thing about live jazz: “mistakes”. A bit of a one-liner, perhaps, but it’s true that creative art ought to ride the borderline between inspiration and disaster, and that there’s nothing so inspiring as watching an artist take a chance. One could apply this dictum to The Evenings, a band that never seem content to rest and always strive to present the listener with something fresh. The downside of this approach, of course, is that not every performance is a bankable success, but this is more than offset by the excitement of discovering what they’ll do next. That a band whose music is based around prerecorded rhythm tracks can approach performance in so many different ways is a minor miracle. So, tonight’s gig is something of a B- when compared to earlier triumphs, but it sees them approach their material in a healthy new light once again.
The recent departure of Stuart Fowkes on electronics has left The Evenings as a fourpiece. Perhaps unsurprisingly in a band that’s now 50% bassists, the music has become that much more solid and serious. It’s not the “folk metal” we were promised online, but it builds around relentless kraut basslines and unstoppable row-yer-bastards drumming like dub for molluscs. In fact, when Mark Wilden eventually launches into one of his signature kit workouts, the effect seems suddenly revolutionary and shockingly light-footed. It’s like Gene Krupa auditioning for Killing Joke. Only “Fizzy Piss” refers back to the old Bentley Rhythm Arse electropop playfulness, the rest of the set is an impressively sturdy lumbering beast. There may be the usual peccadilloes – Seb’s keyboards could do with a little more restraint, and it’s a pity Mark doesn’t have the vocal prowess to match his impassioned delivery – but one of Oxford’s best bands have raised eyebrows once again…not least with the serious volume of the set, which easily drowns out The Divine Coils! We’ve been listening to The Evenings for years now, and the fact that we’re still excited to be guessing what they’ll do next is comfortably the best tribute we can give.
The Wheatsheaf is bombarded with the sound of a dog licking Rice Krispies from a close-miked blanket under Shitmat’s sofa. That’ll be KK Null starting off the final set, then. His position on the stage means we have no idea exactly how he’s making his sounds for the entirety of the gig, but we’re guessing it involves lots of electricity and plenty of buttons. Before long he’s joined by improvising percussionist Z’ev and a vast array of toys for a lengthy and exhausting workout. It’s incredibly difficult to describe purely abstract noise performances, and this duo make The Divine Coils’ tonal wash sound like Debussy by comparison, but despite some brief flashes this gig is pretty disappointing.
The main stumbling block is the apparent lack of communication between the performers. There are some glorious moments, but it feels like they’re reached by pure chance, before being discarded. Perhaps this is evidence of an exciting aleatory approach, but it sounds more like two musicians who aren’t sparking off each other too well. Highlights include a passage marrying gorgeous rubbed gong tones with electronic bird song over spooky theremin lines, or the sound of someone playing Defender next to an imploding junkyard, but there’s equally lots of sonic mulch and water treading on display. Tellingly, Z’ev starts off knocking away at one end of his percussion rack and, hey ho, he’s made it exactly full circle 55 minutes later. One gets the impression he would have doggedly worked his way around his kit in the same manner whatever Null had been doing, and conversely we’re not convinced Null’s paying much attention to the percussion.
In other settings we’re sure these musicians could knock out something special – just check the list of their collaborators - but tonight it feels rather flat. A disappointingly one-dimensional end to what promised to be the most exciting Oxfordbands booking this year.
Saturday, 18 July 2009
Break Like The Fast
I'm off on my holidays for a week or so, so this'll be the last post for a little bit. Go and look at Alastair's page instead, over there on the right>>>
He has some Lonely Island videos for you to chuckle at.
SEXY BREAKFAST/ THE EVENINGS/ DIATRIBE - Klub Kakafanney, Wheatsheaf, 12/03
Diatribe look like the quintessential young, local support act. They've got the vast rack of guitar pedals, all of which sound identical; they've got the obligatory Cheech & Chong reference; they've got a mate in the audience whom they namecheck; they've got that strange mixture of self-consciousness and insouciance. Still, for all these signifiers of newness, they're entirely capable of warming up tonight's crowd, with some juicy little indie-rock numbers, boasting all the right crunch and bounce. Sadly they haven't yet got many angles to crunch, or much to bounce off, but another few months spent writing some songs with a bit more character might well find them sneaking effortlessly up the bill.
Damn! If I'd brought my I-Spy Book Of Oxford Pop I could have scored a fortune from The Evenings, featuring talent from Suitable Case For Treatment, Eeebleee, Sunnyvale and Sexy Breakfast. But who cares who they are when they make music so abstractedly, hilariously funky? The pre-programmed sections bang away merrily, whilst the rest of them pummel alongside (wlthough not always exactly in time, unfortunately), and, err, that's it. Except that's more than enough for now. Like their spiritual parents Add N To (X) they might want to think about developing their great hulking soundbeasts, and taking them them a bit further. Having said this, the last tune has a neat Rephlexoid synth line, and a the third, with it's deliriously dumb "la la la" chorus resembles a scranky, mud-caked Bentley Rhythm Ace.
My spellchecker doesn't like the word "scranky"; obviously it's never seen The Evenings.
Don't ask me how, but somehow I haven't seen Sexy Breakfast live for about three years, and I didn't much like them then. And now?
Well, the news (to me, at least), is that they sound like Vanilla Fudge. Alternatively, they're like a cross between Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Longpigs, and A-Ha. Indescribable, in other words. They crash through a bunch of their tunes to a healthy, adoring crowd, and it sounds great, throwing in muso workouts, tongue in cheek musical theatre references, and passages of plain, startling beauty in equal measure.
To be honest, I can't entirely comprehend their continuing deification, but the fact remains that, despite my colleague's dissatisfaction with the new recording, Sexy Breakfast are still possibly the best live act in Oxfordshire. But then, you probably already knew this.
He has some Lonely Island videos for you to chuckle at.
SEXY BREAKFAST/ THE EVENINGS/ DIATRIBE - Klub Kakafanney, Wheatsheaf, 12/03
Diatribe look like the quintessential young, local support act. They've got the vast rack of guitar pedals, all of which sound identical; they've got the obligatory Cheech & Chong reference; they've got a mate in the audience whom they namecheck; they've got that strange mixture of self-consciousness and insouciance. Still, for all these signifiers of newness, they're entirely capable of warming up tonight's crowd, with some juicy little indie-rock numbers, boasting all the right crunch and bounce. Sadly they haven't yet got many angles to crunch, or much to bounce off, but another few months spent writing some songs with a bit more character might well find them sneaking effortlessly up the bill.
Damn! If I'd brought my I-Spy Book Of Oxford Pop I could have scored a fortune from The Evenings, featuring talent from Suitable Case For Treatment, Eeebleee, Sunnyvale and Sexy Breakfast. But who cares who they are when they make music so abstractedly, hilariously funky? The pre-programmed sections bang away merrily, whilst the rest of them pummel alongside (wlthough not always exactly in time, unfortunately), and, err, that's it. Except that's more than enough for now. Like their spiritual parents Add N To (X) they might want to think about developing their great hulking soundbeasts, and taking them them a bit further. Having said this, the last tune has a neat Rephlexoid synth line, and a the third, with it's deliriously dumb "la la la" chorus resembles a scranky, mud-caked Bentley Rhythm Ace.
My spellchecker doesn't like the word "scranky"; obviously it's never seen The Evenings.
Don't ask me how, but somehow I haven't seen Sexy Breakfast live for about three years, and I didn't much like them then. And now?
Well, the news (to me, at least), is that they sound like Vanilla Fudge. Alternatively, they're like a cross between Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Longpigs, and A-Ha. Indescribable, in other words. They crash through a bunch of their tunes to a healthy, adoring crowd, and it sounds great, throwing in muso workouts, tongue in cheek musical theatre references, and passages of plain, startling beauty in equal measure.
To be honest, I can't entirely comprehend their continuing deification, but the fact remains that, despite my colleague's dissatisfaction with the new recording, Sexy Breakfast are still possibly the best live act in Oxfordshire. But then, you probably already knew this.
Thursday, 25 June 2009
The Dusk Brothers
Oh dear, I'm in a hurry again. Here's an Oxfordbands review from a couple of years ago. It was all Dunkirk spirit that night as ace local fest Truck had been cancelled due to Biblical weather. I was happy, as it meant I could go after I'd been away when it was postponed. I flew to Europe the morning after this gig. I was hungover.
THE EVENINGS/ KING FURNACE/ BEAR IN THE AIR – GRINNING SPIDER, THE X, 20/7/07
Following monstrous downpours, and just hours after the news that Truck has been postponed, it’s pleasing to see so many of Oxford’s music fans prepared to make the trip to The X, to share a beer and commiserate over the sudden death of a long anticipated weekend.
Plenty of opportunity for commiseration during Bear In The Air’s set, because it does very little to impinge on your consciousness, despite the volume. With tinkly high keys and emotive vocals always fluttering at the edge of falsetto, Bear In The Air are essentially a pub rock version of Muse. Some of their songs could perhaps be twisted into an entertaining Bond theme bombast, if only their performance wasn’t so sludgy, and Bear In The Air are resolutely earthbound. Sorry, that’s an obvious gag – but not nearly so obvious as their arrangements.
Thank heaven for King Furnace, then, who bring some sense of occasion back to the stage, along with entertaining rock pomp. With a vocalist who looks like BBC man Tim Bearder’s cooler brother (actually, doesn’t Tim already have one of those?) prancing around the stage howling out some foot tapping cock rock, a nice sprightly drummer and a guitarist with a full-fat sound, King Furnace are guaranteed to keep you amused, even if they’re unlikely to change any lives along the way. The whole pantomime affair brings back rather fond memories of Marconi’s Voodoo. Good stuff.
We’ve said it many a time, but The Evenings are one of our favourite local acts, always up for a bit of reinvention. Until recently they’d taken rather a lengthy hiatus and now they’ve returned as a trio, with a clutch of new material. When not acting the giddy goat, Seb’s keyboards are still a winning mixture of cheap rave and Vangelis, whilst Jo is currently playing bass with far more authority than the old days, and it seems that stripping down the lineup has worked well. The newer songs have a surprisingly lyrical bent, all slowly evolving vocal melodies and lovelorn melancholy, and they fit rather well with the electro rock backing we know so well.
But, perhaps this new found delicacy needs a better voice to carry it through. Nothing wrong with Mark’s voice, really, but it doesn’t really have the malleability to truly coax the beauty from the melodies, nor the character to capture the emotion of the lyrics. Plus, we don’t want anything to detract Mark from playing drums, as he does this so bloody well, displaying fluidity and power simultaneously. A couple of criticisms, then, but The Evenings are still up there with the best.
THE EVENINGS/ KING FURNACE/ BEAR IN THE AIR – GRINNING SPIDER, THE X, 20/7/07
Following monstrous downpours, and just hours after the news that Truck has been postponed, it’s pleasing to see so many of Oxford’s music fans prepared to make the trip to The X, to share a beer and commiserate over the sudden death of a long anticipated weekend.
Plenty of opportunity for commiseration during Bear In The Air’s set, because it does very little to impinge on your consciousness, despite the volume. With tinkly high keys and emotive vocals always fluttering at the edge of falsetto, Bear In The Air are essentially a pub rock version of Muse. Some of their songs could perhaps be twisted into an entertaining Bond theme bombast, if only their performance wasn’t so sludgy, and Bear In The Air are resolutely earthbound. Sorry, that’s an obvious gag – but not nearly so obvious as their arrangements.
Thank heaven for King Furnace, then, who bring some sense of occasion back to the stage, along with entertaining rock pomp. With a vocalist who looks like BBC man Tim Bearder’s cooler brother (actually, doesn’t Tim already have one of those?) prancing around the stage howling out some foot tapping cock rock, a nice sprightly drummer and a guitarist with a full-fat sound, King Furnace are guaranteed to keep you amused, even if they’re unlikely to change any lives along the way. The whole pantomime affair brings back rather fond memories of Marconi’s Voodoo. Good stuff.
We’ve said it many a time, but The Evenings are one of our favourite local acts, always up for a bit of reinvention. Until recently they’d taken rather a lengthy hiatus and now they’ve returned as a trio, with a clutch of new material. When not acting the giddy goat, Seb’s keyboards are still a winning mixture of cheap rave and Vangelis, whilst Jo is currently playing bass with far more authority than the old days, and it seems that stripping down the lineup has worked well. The newer songs have a surprisingly lyrical bent, all slowly evolving vocal melodies and lovelorn melancholy, and they fit rather well with the electro rock backing we know so well.
But, perhaps this new found delicacy needs a better voice to carry it through. Nothing wrong with Mark’s voice, really, but it doesn’t really have the malleability to truly coax the beauty from the melodies, nor the character to capture the emotion of the lyrics. Plus, we don’t want anything to detract Mark from playing drums, as he does this so bloody well, displaying fluidity and power simultaneously. A couple of criticisms, then, but The Evenings are still up there with the best.
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