Scry Me A Riverside

I'm sure I went to the whole of Charlbury weekend in 2007, but for some reason I only reviewed one of the days, can't think why.

CHARLBURY RIVERSIDE FESITVAL, Saturday 16/6/07

“Got midgets on my mind”. “Sitting on a tall cushion”. Well, that’s what it sounds like Dave Ellis is singing, anyway. We can’t be sure, he has this slurred blues style that is as impenetrable as it is attractive. As his husky voice weaves its way around the slapped strings of his trusty guitar, it doesn’t take long to realise that Ellis isn’t doing anything too revolutionary, but it’s a good listen all the same. And, seriously, who doesn’t like that old John Lee Hooker boogie clomp just a little?

It may sound a bit like “You don’t sweat much for a fat lass”, but over on the main stage, Life Of Riley prove them selves to be pretty good for their age. Musically there are no great ideas, but the performance is tight and the vocals are surprisingly strong and melodic. I mean, I can’t remember a note of it now, but it sounded fine at the time.

A sudden downpour means that the Beard Museum tent is packed full for Lagrima, which is exactly the way it should be. You’d go some way to find an acoustic duo in Oxfordshire with more variation: Roz’ vocals can leap from sinister whispers to operatic howls (is she the rootsy equivalent to Ivy’s Itch’s Eliza Gregory, or am I getting carried away?) whilst Gray’s assured guitar work can recall The Cocteau Twins and Andres Segovia in the space of one song. And he has the best reverse reverb sound ever.

Is there anyone left who doesn’t revere The Family Machine? Not only are they movers and shakers behind stage hosts The Beard Museum, but they also write some wry country-inflected pop that can raise a grin and wring the heart simultaneously. Admittedly, there was nothing particularly special about this individual performance, but we can listen to songs like “Lethal Drugs Cocktail” and “Flowers By The Roadside” forever.

A dub band with a Tunisian vocalist singing in Arabic? Implausibly, that’s Raggasaurus. They get a huge response, but what impresses me is the control over their material. It would have been easy just to have everyone soloing at once, and to throw everything at the wall like a million crusty festival reggae bands, but Raggasaurus know exactly when minimalism works, and make sure that very little gets in the way of their taut bouncy rhythms and soaring vocals. OK, it might work a little better in a smoky dive than in a sunny field, and perhaps the keyboard could be toned down a little, but this is good stuff.

When my esteemed colleague Colin saw Earnest Cox recently, all he could see was some pub rock. Well, we heartily disagree, and can say nothing against their simple wired rock, which revels in draping a world weary vocal sneer over glorious endless two chord chugs. The lyrics to songs like “My Favourite Walk” and “State Of That” seem to recall tedious bar room conversations with spitting vitriol, and as ever we’re reminded of an amphetamine version of The Blue Aeroplanes; or we would if the fruity organ parts didn’t sound like they’d come straight from a Stax soul revue. A fascinating band.

We’re big admirers of Baby Gravy’s cubist prog-punk melange, but perhaps a balmy afternoon in Charlbury isn’t the ideal place to experience it. Iona (who may have had a couple of shandies) is swearing and insulting the crowd, desperate for a reaction, but ultimately we’re just too relaxed to plug into Baby Gravy’s abstract new wave. However, stick us in The Cellar and fuel us with cheap lager and we’ll be up there with the best of them.

Is it patronising to call a band “charming”? Well, fuck it, we don’t care, because we’re always charmed by Foxes!, especially Kayla’s honest and unadorned vocal. They have a home made bass, and in fact, the entire band has a wonky, school woodwork project feel, all odd angles and unplaned surfaces. But beneath all this lie some beautifully constructed melodies and a quiet sense of rock dynamics. Foxes! Is a band that has unobtrusively grown in stature to become one of Oxford’s favourites. We shall miss them when they move away later in the year.

If Foxes! slid into our consciousness slowly, then Witches did the opposite, bursting onto the scene with the whole package intact: baroque pop arrangements, dense and forceful live shows and even beautiful collaged record sleeves. By rights the prominence of the cabaret mariachi trumpet should become cloying, but somehow Witches never crumble under the weight of their own ornamentation. It’s odd to watch a live show with such a black density of sound, and still walk away humming the melodies.

Fearing we’d neglected the main stage, we leave the fine This Town Needs Guns to their own devices and investigate Souljacker. What we find is a bunch of young groovers giving it some chest beating wah wah rock action. They sound like Free, but they should be locked up. Ah, well, it’s a festival, let’s cut them some slack – plus they have a tune called “Jimmy Page Drank My Tea”, so at least they don’t take themselves too seriously. They’re perfectly good players, but it’s all somewhat stodgy, and we don’t imagine they’re a band who’ll be troubling us again soon.

Just goes to show, Charlbury is a fine day out, but the Beard Museum is the reliable option.

Temporal Uncertainty

I have no idea when this was from. The edition of OHM inexplicably has no date on the front (it also has no writer credits for each review, for some reason). It does claim to be Volume II, Issue 2, but then so did the one I was looking at last time I posted from OHM, so who's to say? Bloody amateurs.

Klub Kak again, I'm so predictable, aren't I? The Smug Jugglers, by the way, were an atrocious band, but they were nice guys who used to fill in for KK whenever anyone pulled out, which is why I've seen them all too many times. Suitable Case were an amazing Beefheartian gospel metal band, whose singer Liam (now in Mephisto Grande, an amazing Beefheartian gospel - you get the idea) has some gnashers missing. Wierdly, Rus from Phyal ended up in Eduard Soundingblock, another post-SCFT act. Endlessly fascinating, I'm sure.

Oh, look at that, Lagrima pop up again. I used to like them, but they've spit up now (literally: they were a couple).

LAGRIMA/PHYAL, Klub Kakofanney, The Wheatsheaf, Feb 2004?

Off once again to the wonderful Klub Kakofanney, Oxford's longest running live music night. You never know quite what you'll get at Kak - except that there's about a 50/50 chance that The Smug Jugglers are playing - which is part of the pleasure. Lagrima start the evening, and do it extremely well, tickling the small crowd with a handful of light, sublte, slightly flamecoid jazz-folk numbers. The vocals are warm, smoky and deliciously low and intimate, even if the body they come out of looks like it would be more comfortable some place else; the acoustic guitar is beautifully played, with so many counterpoint lines and percussive elements it sounds like a whole band's locked in the fretboard. I've a sneaking suspicion that they let their talent do the work occasionally, and it would be nice to hear some risks taken in the more straightforward tunes, but they certainly go down pleasantly with a pint of Guinness, that's for sure.

Phyal, by contrast, trade a neat line in Market Town Metal. Admittedly I've invented that genre, but you get the idea: tuneful heavy rock performed with gusto, led by a singer who's clearly studied The I-Spy Book Of Rock-Chickery quite closely. The first, and best, song with its tight funky rhythm section, sounds a little like the Chili Peppers wrestling with Evanescence over an antediluvian goth tune.

There's a mid-90s concern with a vocal melody on display, but it's bolstered with some firy guitar work, which keeps things interesting, although pretty much all the songs seem to carve the same sort of shape, and a little time spent arranging might move Phyal up a gear. Still, if Suitable Case For Treatment are too noisy for you, why not give Phyal a testdrive? They have a more melodic approach and all their own teeth.

The Giddy Goatee

This is a review of a promoter whose gigs I've really enjoyed on many occasions, but the night in question was a bit dank. All those good gigs I saw with pen safely in pocket, & then I go and review this one. So, you can probably taste the conflict betwen wanting to be nice about the organisors, and wanting to be nasty about the acts.

I've kept the "house style"micro-paragraphs this time, just so you can see how the BBC editor used to post the reviews. No matter how glib and pithy I tried to be, I was apparently always too long winded and obtuse, so he hacked the copy into tiny bites of prose. Semi-colons got chopped regularly. Probably fair, I'm a bastard for convoluted, multi-clause sentences, but on the other hand, I think it's best to imagine your readers have got beyond The Magic Faraway Tree in terms of reading comprehension. Actually, this review, like a lot of my BBC efforts, is pretty poor: was this because it was early in my (ha!) career, or because I was trying, and failing, to write like somebody from Look In to keep the powers that be happy?

THE BROTHERS OF INVENTION/EMILY ROLT/LAGRIMA/FATALLY YOURS, Beard Musuem, The Purple Turtle, 11/04

Maybe it's the name, but I always imagined Fatally Yours were a goth band. Perhaps they are normally, but in semi-acoustic formation they sound like an American chart indie band circa 1999, with hints of 70s AM pop. Which is better than it sounds, actually.

There's a pleasant warmth to their two guitar sound and they have a decent clutch of songs - though, whatever your politics, the Iraq song is a royal duffer. Despite the fact that he looks nothing like him, something in the singer's mannerisms (and eyebrows) reminds me of Morrissey. Not that he sounds like Morrissey...he sounds like an American chart indie singer circa 1999. Which is again better than I'm implying.

It's a good little set, and if that sounds patronising, remember that Beard Museum is, by definition, a little gig. Most enjoyable.

Acoustic duo Lagrima has a bunch of songs that sound like 50s jazz stanbards you can't quite place. Whilst this means they don't pack too many surprises, it does mean they come across as elegant and immediate.

The guitarist is incredibly fluent, and the singer, despite her obvious nerves, has a delicious, smoky voice, that really cuts into the heart of the compositions. Their first song features the repeated refrain "Easy", and that's my minor gripe with them: I'd love to see them stray from the path and develop their sound. It's as if they know that anything they do is effortlessly lovely, so play it safe.

Still, if "effortlessly lovely" is my harshest criticism, I think we're onto a winner here...

Emily Rolt is an incredible singer...and by "incredible" I mean "extremely able" rather than "any good". Like many RnB types, warbling Emily seems to have confused vocal dexterity with the ability to interpret a lyric. The again, when a song basically consists of the words "beautiful, beautiful love" repeated for about a week, maybe there's nowhere to go.

I've never liked it much, but Coldplay's "Yellow" does not automatically become more emotionally charged if you play it really slowly and never come close to singing the melody. Emily's constantly singing

.............................and up here

down here


...................................................and over there


for no clear reason. Except that she can, I suppose.

In all fairness, millions of people will love her, and she won't disappoint them, but I need something more.

Emily is great at what she does. Then again, so was jack The Ripper.

ddly, when The Brothers Of Invention took the stage I whispered to my friend, "They look like Maroon 5". "More like Toploader," he replied.

Well, blow me if they don't sound like a cross betwen the two. Their bouncy jazz-pop is fine, but Curiosity has already killed the cat, don't let it kill me too.

At least, this was my first reaction, but by the end of the set they'd just about salvaged it, with some entertaining lite funk tunes, and some neat keyboard playing, so let's average it out to polite ambivalence.

Another varied and interesting line-up from The Beard Museum - far more than just an acoustic night.