Bits and pieces from the Shepherd's Bush Empire

Michael Kiwanuka: Tell me a soul tale

Michael Kiwanuka, Jake Bugg 23/05/12 I've been fairly taken by this new music soul of British neo-soul music ever since I heard Tell Me A Tale - the opener of his beautiful debut Home Again. The title track itself, I discovered later, is equally moving. If Kiwanuka cites Bill Withers and Otis Redding as influences, I can see rays of their warmth in his voice; touches of soul substance that don't allow you to doubt the stories he's recounting. You have to feel - and you're ultimately happy that you do, even if you start to feel "lost again, lost again...". The delivery of those songs was equally genuine on stage - though I have to admit that, far from an avid soul fan, I hardly paid attention to much else (altogether a bit understated for my taste). I do enjoy seeing musicians like Kiwanuka get the merit they deserve once in a while - as opposed to the usual loud (on the outside much more than the inside) one-hit wonder rockers we usually see and hear. Opening for him was Nottingham's up-and-coming singer-songwriter Jake Bugg, whose love of Bob Dylan I discerned pretty much on the first few notes. I've been seeing him all over music publications and websites since, but I can't say that personally I was as taken. The guy did show some promise, and he's still young (hardly 19)...

The Offspring: Come out and play

The Offspring 06/06/12 I had seen the band live a few years ago, and even though I had been happy to relive my wild teenage nights, I hadn't ended up that excited after their performance. I generally find The Offspring something between Green Day's attention-grabbing (well, they try their best!) pop punk and NOFX's more underground punk credibility (I'll get back to this later); the mainstream band punks could dance to without feeling they joined a naughty frat boy party (which is the Green Day case, and it's a foul feeling indeed...). Beyond my expectations, I had great fun at their second Empire gig. Ignition, which that night celebrated its' 20th anniversary and was performed in its' entirety, is a great light punk album - and I've just added it to my "listen to more thoroughly" list (probably along with a few other clueless people). The band was in great form, ultra lively and fun, and it quickly managed to inebriate us with their lasting punk rock anthems - and a bit of Days Go By, their brand new album. Some crowd-surfing there, which security tried to diminish, and a few sing-a-longs, expectedly at the encore's "Self Esteem" and "Come Out And Play", made great memories (I was at work, but I gave it my best). Awesome night!
 

NOFX: I don't have great things to say about their music, but that's one thing we agree on

 NOFX, The Varukers 16/06/12 If NOFX have more underground credibility than The Offspring and their MTV/major label ilk, they definitely don't have as much as The Varukers: The hardcore punk bombs that opened for them and, as far as I'm concerned, were the real attraction to the show. Heavy, authentic (even though they played a London Empire), wild - they're my kind of band. The headliners, however, were the ones that super-excited the audience, which crowd-surfed constantly, completely defying security this time. Much appreciated - but that fact aside, their whoopee, childish punk rock put me off anything they had to say. In all honesty, I haven't bothered much with their lyrics, I don't even know if I'm missing any important messages between the lines. Maybe I am. But just the sound (and attitude) of silly punk kids partying doesn't really do it for me. Like they're 15 and they sneak out the window while their parents are asleep. I like punks consciously rule-breaking, hardcore in their sound and mindset and, ideally, heavily political.  If I'm to get in a silly mood, I'll listen to The Offspring, who might be less underground, but even they keep a more grown-up profile in comparison. That's as whoopee as I can get.

Review by Danai Molocha, photography found here and there...

Dirty Three @ Cargo

Fiddler kind of goof

07/06/12

The moment I saw Warren Ellis scratching his violin like the devil, drawing a menacing backdrop at a Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds extravaganza, I got hooked.
Seeing then Dirty Three themselves (altogether in large doses, at the Dirty Three-curated All Tomorrow's Parties, in April 2007), my devotion was sealed in wax.
The man is rad.

Guitarist Mick Turner and drummer Jim White provide exemplar support. They're like the paragon of bands, the way so seamlessly and unassumingly compliment one another.
Ellis, that wicked devil, is anything but unassuming, of course - from the casual jokes about Bono's hemorrhoids ("...then Sunday Bloody Sunday would take up a whole new meaning"), to his constant screams and banging of his boots, dancing like a puppet whose master's gone astray.
And what a vision it all is.

Their 8th album Toward the Low Sun only has a few months on the record store shelves.

Their material, from their 1995 debut Sad & Dangerous to this year's Sun, has been consistently assailing us with instrumental madness, which often starts slow and soothing before it disappears into a whirlwind of improvisation and sinister experimentalism. At times the band get carried away with the peaceful violin melodies, going on and on a lot longer than they should (this gig is no exception); but then comes another goofy punch-line, another kick, another sonic perversity. In a much more limited, intimate venue than ATP's array of stages, this Cargo gig gives, admittedly, more space to serenity.  But this, too - make no mistake - involves a generous well of fun.

 

They open with Rain Song and Furnace Skies (from their latest release), then Everything's Fucked (from Dirty Three), Sea Above, Sky Below (from Ocean Songs), Some Summers They Drop Like Flies (from Whatever You Love, You Are), all adding up to a career-spanning panorama of the trio's work; and we really appreciate that. Their indulgence in improvisations don't leave much time for a great number of songs, but the Three make sure they make space for some old crowd favorites.

Warren here and there swaps the violin with the keyboards. If you only read that and the song titles, you'll most certainly take him for a sentimental bastard. And he is - just add a lot of acerbic humor, irony, strength, and a helluva lot of distortion.
He and the band give an amazing performance once more - and it's righteously sold out.
If you like Dirty Three, this is one show you shouldn't miss. Make sure next time you get in before that last ticket goes out. 


 
Review and photography by Danai Molocha

Field Day @ Victoria Park

 For whom the Bells toll

02/06/12

Metronomy

It was 3 o'clock in a broody Saturday afternoon when I braved the crowds that clogged the festival entrance.
Within 15 minutes, unexpectedly, I was already standing opposite the Eat Your Own Ears main stage, locking my feet at an ideal spot that would secure me perfect views of the Liars' noise party. The sun was out, finally- both literally and metaphorically.

The above trio's latest offering WIXIW goes surprisingly mellow and electronic hinting here and there at their usual sinister experimentalism, which we have so learned to trust over the years. Both musically and aesthetically (starting from their smart... cultured I'd say outfits) the band has grown up, no matter how ironically they go about it. They've certainly come a long way from their Lycra leotard and clown costume days, which doesn't necessarily mark an improvement in my eyes; (I loved those outfits! And the unhinged craze that went with them). It is certainly an evolution.

Liar 1

Less erratic on record and on stage nowadays (or maybe just this day?...), they do still draw a clear, consistent line with the past:
They willingly bow to their animalistic, and simultaneously urban, no-isy/no-wavy impulses - loud or ambient, contemplative or downright brutal. They do, in places, go Neatherdal in this gig too, and when they do it's cathartic.

Liars were the only gig I managed to see in full and with an unobstructed view. For what characterized more than anything this year's festival, was short time-slots and too many nomadic people getting in the way of any real moments you might have with the band of your choice. Just as you ran off Laneway and towards Bugged Out!, from Sleigh Bells to SBTRKT, the latter was already at his final beat-feast.
 And what a fucking good feast that was, by the way. People danced possessed, and it was contagious from the moment you got within earshot.

Liar 2

As for Sleigh Bells... I often find their studio recordings a salad of girl-screams and guitar-heavy riffs - and that's not very tasty. It's plain tiresome. But their live version turned me around. Not because they're so amazing or anything. They're good, but we've seen more impressive stuff. It's just that that's when they most make sense: Krauss's badass sex kitten voice and persona gives a very different twist to the testosterone-led attack at the back. It readjusts its rhythm and dynamics - though also quite often it gets lost in the rock maze (and you wonder why the f*** do they have her blubbering words we can't even hear). I didn't get swept away like the Brit crowd apparently did but, all in all, it was one of the most fun memories I had at this festival.
The Laneway stage also hosted the wildly popular Vaccines show, which I went to see out of curiosity. The rhythms were definitely Strokes, Young's vocals and appearance definitely Ramones (apparently that has been the word in the music circuit, but I had never thought of it till that very moment...). They were a pretty lively bunch, but too uncreative for me to stick around.

Liar 3

I don't generally get those music pyrotechnics that much more often than not brighten the British music sky, only to abruptly fall off and give way to the next explosion. So I just rushed off to the next one (and towards a stage with a less notoriously dodgy sound).
Before that, and back to the Eat Your Own Ears neighborhood some time earlier, Metronomy decisively added some color to the recipe. I had heard that people had been pretty disappointed at some of their previous performances; but they defied memory and went to see them, again.
This time, the verdict was unanimous.
The English trippy electro-popsters had rhythm, style, and they were in the mood for dancing. Oscar Cash (in the keyboards etc) often stole the show with his spanking moves, and Anna Prior (on the drums) with her glittery outfit. Heartbreaker, She Wants and of course, The Look dominated the field, giving the festival pulse in all sonic coolness.

Sleigh Bells

I got nearly one song out of Austra (who should have gone up on stage a lot sooner at Shacklewell Arms), under the thickening rain and among a burgeoning fanbase. Slightly hippy influences there, in the way the whole band somehow moved (they'd no doubt fit in a post-modern day Woodstock); but they nevertheless gave me the impression that, should I have stayed, they would've proven worthy of their spirited videos.
I got to like the small and unobtrusive Shacklewell Arms stage earlier when, on my way to Village Mentality, I caught The Men in action. The band was heavy and unpolished (at last!) in a hipsters' Ark. People didn't squash around them, but they were definitely my whoopee! discovery this Field Day (after last year's Darkstar, who drew me in so deep I still can't get over it). 
Thanks to Austra's delay, I barely got a decent spot for Mazzy Star, who were the main reason I eventually paid all that money. Under their typical veil of  dim lights and sepia shadows, Hope Sandoval, Roback and co came dressed in a hypnotic melange of rock melodies, with equally dreamy projections at the backdrop. Weighing more towards a psychedelic lullaby, rather than their often engrossing sensual intensity, the band lacked the draggy maelstrom of songs like Hair and Skin (or Mary of Silence, a personal favourite). But they did please the fans with the hit Fade Into You - one among very few of their most known songs.
An amazing paradigm of a rock heroine, that Sandoval. Despite her graceful, fragile-yet-strong, enigmatic beauty and shitloads of talent, she chooses to glow in the dark. Ι wish there were more like her...

Mazzy Star

As for any unmentioned highlights... Afrocubism entertained the crowds, but I'd go for last year's groovy-funky-jazzy Sun Ra Arkestra veterans any time; I could barely catch a few glimpses of Grimes, succeeding them at the Village Mentality stage, but I enjoyed it anyway. She wavers between an enthusiastic (maybe even clueless) teenager and a wicked beat-maker, but she suits the dancefloor alright; Zulu Winter were pop softies... hard on my punk sensibilities.
Finally, Beirut captured a lot of festival hearts. I have interviewed founder Zach Condon in the past and I fully respect his vision; but the result is a bit too folky for my psyche. They provided a really inspiring soundtrack to my race towards the rest of the acts, though!

Review and photography by Danai Molocha

Scissor Sisters @ Shepherd's Bush Empire

Do you feel like dancing?

16 & 17/05/12

...I, for one, did; courtesy of Scissor Sisters. And I can't say my system is built for all that jolly pop. I was already beginning to feel disc-a-llergic after only a couple of songs.
The audience, of course, looked addicted. To a wild Ana Matronic (I've always been a fan, she's hilarious. The show's joke was, naturally, the Bush); and a restless Jake Shears.
My favorite of them all, though, were the back-up singers stage left, and their perfect little outfits: Short black tops and golden Lycra hot pants with see-through zebra tights (day one); tight zebra overalls (day two). It doesn't get any better than that (though Jake's extravagant fashion choices, naturally, beat them to the punch).
You'll think why such an obsession with outfits in a freaking music review. Well, maybe cause that's half the point in a Scissor Sisters gig: Sport the darn Lycra, sing-a-long Let's Have A Kiki (as in having a good time, in NY slang, according to professor Matronic) and dance your ass off. The song is part of their upcoming fourth album Magic Hour (due end of May) and it was decidedly one of the highlights - especially as it was accompanied by a super dance routine, performed by the two lead singers and the sassy back-ups.
We had a Manhattan kiki alright.
Only The Horses, the album's first single, rather unfortunately reminded me of any other pop factory single in the charts (but it is, quite honestly, more bearable than most). But there was also those old crowd-pleasers: Take Your Mama, Mary, I Don't Feel Like Dancing - ironically, since most vigorously of them all danced the singers that sang it, of course.
Thursday's show, inescapably, was blackened by the passing of disco diva Donna Summer ("she is our angel now"), the voice that breathed life to the Scissor Sisters soul. And thus, she will continue to live through them hereafter.

Stonewall Inn: where Pride began and Scissor Sister continue

The Stonewall riots, the first great rebellion of the gay community against a hateful homophobic government, which took place in NY's Greenwich Village back in 1969, was the second notable event that turned the Sisters all serious. And dead set to bring across a vital message - that of owning up to who you are, your freedom against their oppression.
They might make you shake your ass a lot (and they shake theirs), but they do know how to accompany it with a brain. That's exactly where they differ from all those other bottoms at the top of the charts.

P.S. Hail to the fan who observed me quietly, struggling with additions on a calculator while the whole club was dancing. When I later openly joined them, he said to me upright: "Thank God! I saw you with that calculator and I said "what the hell is she doing?!!"... It's alright, man. I'm cured now.

Review and photography of Stonewall Inn, New York City, by Danai Molocha.

The Hawke and the desert @ Shepherd's Bush Empire

Tinariwen

Tinariwen 03/05/12  I looked forward to witnessing once more the live power of those (both politically and musically) impressive sort of desert bluesmen.
Before that, though, there were Jose Gonzalez's opening guitar ballads - among which, popular covers of the Knife's Heartbeats and Massive Attack's Teardrop that imposed a welcome silence over the auditorium. However moving for some, I will have to declare, personally, that his lack of tension rather resulted to a lack of interest where I was concerned.
I had much higher expectations for Tinariwen - a mighty bunch from the Sahara desert, that fight to be heard through their electricity-ridden music, as much as their dedicated acts of resistance. The seemingly ever-present figure of founder Ibrahim Ag Alhabib was immediately conspicuous by its absence. He stayed in Mali in order to help fellow Tuareg refugees (which fact, alone, was enough to instantly launch the band among my most esteemed musicians). Having already experienced their heady mix of sand deep Tuareg tradition and guitar magic, it took me a while to warm up to their performance this time. Maybe it was their latest, fifth album Tassili that didn't quite agree with me, or maybe Alhabib's mandatory... absence for that matter. Surely something got lost in translation.
The biggest excitement of the show came near the end, and it was, unfortunately, non musical: Channel 4's Jon Snow handed the band Songlines magazine's Best Group Award in full glory, followed by a Grammy for Best World Music Album for Tassili. Despite my objections to that particular live show, if anyone deserves it, it's them.

Ladyhawke

Ladyhawke 11/05/12 Don't let me bore you with the details. I got bored enough myself... waiting for something from Ladyhawke that never actually came. This was a familiar feeling while listening to her eponymous debut in the past, which I was hoping she would be able to overturn during one of her live shows (and therefore justify her inexplicable hipness).
She didn't.
 Her remarks had a friendly air but, the rest of the time, she put on an indifferent facade I found rather snobby. Boring? Definitely... Despite a backdrop of giant light boards flashing her name pompously, the only flashes of excitement I got (barely) were when she played Paris Is Burning and Delirium - the highlight of the show no doubt (and we had to wait till the encore for that one). The rest, pretty pointless..

Review and Tinariwen photography (from their Athens gig ) by Danai Molocha