CD Review: Chew Lips - Unicorn (released 25/01/10 - Family Records)

Chew Lips were first recommended to me by a couple of well trusted indie-scene chums, and they have subsequently received a lot of support from the likes of radio 1's Huw Stephens, Nick Grimshaw and Rob da Bank. Their current single 'Play Together' has also hit the 6music's daytime playlist hard and has been lapped up furiously by Steve Lamacq . Could this London trio's debut album 'Unicorn' be set for 'BIG THINGS'?

The first thing that struck me about this album was how many of the songs were already recognisable 'hits'. Play Together, Slick and Seven had already found their way into my musical subconscious despite not previously considering myself a fan. What's more, it seems like there are plenty more where that came from. Toro and Gold Key both show promise as tunes fit for the indie mainstream (paradoxical as that phrase sounds!)

Chew Lips offer trendy, sweet female vocals from review-shy front-girl Tigs without the pretentiousness of Florence and the Machine and catchy electro/dance tunes without the gimmickry (or suspect hairstyling) of La Roux. All I'm hoping now is that they somehow avoid this rotten tendency for over hype that seems all the rage right now. If they go the way of Bat For Lashes rather than Little Boots and keep focus on music rather than the limelight then they could really pull off something of interest and longevity.

The album is available for purchase and download here . They've got a plethora of festival gigs booked and a full UK tour is planned for January next year.

Massive Attack - Brixton 02 Academy - 19/09/09

It's been 18 years since the release of Massive Attack's debut LP Blue Lines, and nearly 3 since '100th Window' hit our ears. Now, minus the presence of Andrew 'Mushroom' Vowles, but armed with the promise of a brand new album for 2010, The Wild Bunch performed for the third and final consecutive night at Brixton's 02 Academy.

What struck me first about the venue was how civilised the whole place was. There were a few small and orderly queues for toilets and merchandise, but otherwise the place was uncrowded and completely relaxed. The arena itself offered a unique blend of space and intimacy. The sloped floor leading to Brixton's huge stage meant that a good view could be had from almost any spot in the room, reducing the need for elbow-bargy bitchiness at the barrier (although admittedly that kind of behaviour does have its place in certain gig circles!).

After a few drinks the support act came on. Martina Topley Bird, complete with perm and sparkly outfit, failed to impress me. The songs of this soul-less Goldfrapp, middle-aged La Roux or self-conscious OMD started and stopped without a discernable beginning or end, and no one tune was particuarly distinguishable from the others. The sound engineering for the first couple of songs was pretty awful too, but once this was sorted the band seemed mundane at best. They warm up a little towards the end of the set, with their last two songs taking a rockier, drum-centric edge, but by then they had already lost the interest of the audience. We were simply too eager to see the band we'd paid £30 for.



After a refreshingly short break, Massive Attack finally graced the Academy's titanic stage. There was no repeat of the previous act's sound issues. With two drummers, DJ, synth, bass and cacophony of vocalists amongst the line-up, the band were on top form. Massive Attack got the balance between fresh new sounds and crowd-pleasing classics just right. It was great to see Daddy G back in on the action and engaging in some quality audience interaction - 'This is dedicated to all the starving models in the world' - as well as performing alongside some rather funky guest singers. Disappointingly, Damon Albarn did not make a repeat appearance (he turned up on friday) but the roots-reggae greatness of Horace Andy more than made up for this. I was sceptical of Martina's vocal presence in some of the songs (including the seminal 'Teardrop') but aside from her attention-seeking tottering about the stage she did a pretty good job.



To my delight, the guys played 'Future Proof'. As a 14-year old I used to light incense and meditate to 100th window, and hearing this played granted me a nostalgic epiphany that took me right back to 2004. The absolute climax, however, came during 'Angel', the first track from the phenomenal 'Mezzanine' where I lost myself completely in the shuddering bass and beams of light. MA are undoubtedly still on form, but I doubt if they will ever reach the dizzying musical heights they reached on that album again.

The accompanying lightshow that night was beautiful. Old school stereo-style 'strip' lighting was used on the backdrop, with displays ranging from red and white sparkles to videos of anti-war marches and even live 'trash' news feeds. This was paired with some rather impressive 'beam'-style lighting reminiscent of a sea anemone a la Blue Planet, which granted the songs a visual as well as an aural climax.



The gig was absolutely fantastic, with the boys fiercely defending any suggestion that they're too old for this business. Their new music was exciting and their old classics still held strong. Like 100th Window, new songs from the '5th LP' seem a lot more centred around smooth synth sounds and vocals rather than their previous tendency towards a heavier, more rhythmic approach.

It was a totally inspiring evening. I really wanted to ignore the fact that playing at the 02 Academy was totally hypocritical when set against all the jibing anti-capitalist messages that they spread across their backdrop and more subtly in their tunes. This occurred to me during 'Unfinished Sympathy' and as a result I don't think it will ever have quite the same resonance.

Notting Hill Carnival - 30/08/09

Since moving to Cambridge, I managed to miss the to the whistle-blowing, sweet corn-charring, booty-shaking bass-trembling extravaganza that is Notting Hill Carnival for the last few years. Boarding the 436X bus, whose sole purpose was to transport the South Londoners to the carnival that day, I found myself aboard a single-decker bubbling with excitement. Sunday being family day, the carnival kids were already blowing their whistles in anticipation. Meanwhile, I found myself sandwiched between a group of plum-mouthed sloanes who were unafraid to loudly describe their experience ‘on weed’ and express their awe at ‘how very ethnic’ the bus was. I’m pretty sure I saw those same girls huddled nervously by the piles of polystyrene goat curry leftovers and coconuts later that day.



After the long and uncomfortably warm bus journey, we finally arrived at a place those Chelsea girls termed ‘high street ken’ and the crowds began. A brief walk past the police stop-and-search, whistle touts and hideously expensive houses Hugh Grant would be proud of and I was plunged into the smoke of barbecued jerk chicken and the metallic ting of repetitive soca rhythms. The festival was already in full swing. The first sound system I came across played a variety of black music anthems, ranging from modern R’n’B to Garage, Dancehall to Break beat, with a homage to Michael Jackson thrown in for luck. The crowd was pretty mixed and also a pretty friendly bunch. I inevitably ended up spending a good portion of my dancing dimes there.

The dancehall sound system a bit further down was playing some pretty fresh sounds, but the proportion of attitude-donning rude-boys made it a little less comfortable to dance to. I found a really great sound system playing some drum n bass and funky house, but there were strangely few folk dancing - possibly because the MC had a habit of jumping on and forcibly dancing with anyone who dared nod a head in appreciation. I danced from a distance before moving to a system where I could get closer the bass bins without fear of attack.



By far the most popular system was being run by 1xtra’s ‘Rampage’, who was spinning out all the latest RnB ‘hits’ with a few summer classics thrown in. This crowd in particular made me feel pretty old, and for once I was proud to be, as these lot still seemed too immature to let themselves go and get into the . Attempting to nip down Portabello road, I forgot just how massive the festival was. A tip to check out KCC on Wornington Road was sadly dismissed as moving anywhere with any kind of speed was pretty out the question. It had a top afternoon and emerged completely exhausted and sticky with sugar cane. In hindsight I wish I’d made a note of the Djs spinning the sound systems, but I was too busy dancing!

Labrynth Reunion - Hidden - 08/08/09

Old Skool, Drum n Bass and Jungle have been a staple of my musical upbringing. I remember dancing to the stuff in between playing power rangers and eating carrot sticks and hummous at pre and post-rave parties throughout my childhood as well as listening to North London pirate radio stations and, later on, nicking my parents' mixtapes for my Sony walkman. Labrynth was a household name along with the likes of Raindance, Sunrise and Tribal Gathering since the early 90s, so it felt a little weird to me that, 15 years since the last one, this was my first time.

After some house party madness and a hefty tube ride to kick up the pre-rave excitement, we reached Hidden, situated under Vauxhall's magic arches. The area has a buzzin' nightlife I'd never really known about , although admittedly most seemed the up-market, overpriced cocktail-sipping type that I don't normally go for. After some hassle where the club took a stupid amount of time to acknowledge the guestlist queue, we wangled our way in. The place had only been open for an hour but it was already packed out with the music thumping in every corner. A quick scout round established 3 rooms - jungle/heavy DnB ('Originals') for the hard core, house for the softer core nostalgia ('Loyalists') and old skool classics/hardcore for those somewhere in between ('Legends').


Then: Ravers at 12 Dalston Lane, '93

The rooms were dark, the place was buzzin' and I had to dance to the sickeningly great choons - who cares if we've heard this one already? Our group naturally split as we found our sound of preference, but it didn't really seem to matter. You only had to glance around to find a friendly face. DJs, MCs, Promoters and other big names on the Rave scene were naturally mingled with regular punters - some of whom tried their own hand on the mic or dancing behind (or indeed on top of) the decks. I even had a little banter with Adrian Age and Chalky White myself. The old skool room was especially inclusive, with the DJ booth placed between sets of stairs leading up to the balcony for a real connection between music makers and appreciators. There was no sign of any 'VIP' elitism or cliques and friends were made very easily. By the end of the night I felt I knew everyone - not at all like the usual, slightly hostile or predatory vibe you get at regular, drink-orientated nightclubs: this is even considering that the vast majority of Labrynth attendees were blokes!


Now: Ravers at Hidden, 2009

I can't believe I've gotten this far and not yet properly mentioned the music! My group were pretty split on what room they preferred, but I spent most of my time in the Old Skool room. The House room (in the middle and by the entrance) was a little too crowded and bright for my liking and although I loved the heavy beats in the jungle room, the energy generated in there made it way too hot to stay in for long. All the soundsytems were massive, and the bass was heavy enough to make my hair stand on end. DJ Ellis Dee , Slip Matt and Billy Bunter did it for me especially, as they pumped out classic after classic that got everyone's horns and hands up in appreciation. The trademark deep synth sounds of old skool sent shivers from my ears to my spine and time just flew by. Pretty soon they were playing 4 o'clock (in the Morning). I used the loo, grabbed some water, talked crap to people who were happy to reiprocate whilst cooling down outside and had a little rave. All of sudden Billy Bunter was shouting "One More?!" and it was 7am. One More fortunately became Four More, with legendary Valley of the Shadows and Incredible being among their number.

I left the club at around half seven and stepping into the bright sunlight with basslines and piano licks still ringing in my eardrums was a very surreal experiences. I had sweated, smiled, blew my whistle and danced myself silly and bloody loved it! I didn't yet ache (that was to come later) and spent the rest of the day talking rubbish and reliving the night. Rumour has it there's to be a Christmas 09 special - watch this space!

WOMAD 2009 - 23/07 - 26/07

As is always the way, no sooner had we seemed to tumble stiffly out of the car surrounded by roll mats and crates of beer than I was hazily making my way back with noticeably depleted alcohol reserves. WOMAD has had pride of place on my calendar for over 10 years now, and with the line-up for 2009 as it was, it looked like yet another promising showcase of the world's musical talent.

Having settled nicely and with no sign of the predicted rainfall we made our way on site. Seeing the trademark colourful flags and silly hats and hearing the unmistakeable rhythms of the drum circle once again sent a shiver of excitement down my spine and I was hit with the festival vibe.


Astonishingly, the Thursday 'treat' performances were none other than The Penguin Café Orchestra and The Skatalites. The Café were a great start to the weekend, with their folky instrumental musings easing us in gently. Even without Simon Jeffes they maintained their kooky musical mastery (to be fair, they have had twelve years without him to sort it out!) and Arthur Jeffes (Simon's son) donned a particularly fabulous hat throughout. They played classics like Telephone and Rubber Band and Giles Farnaby's Dream as well as some new bits and bobs as reassurance of their musical progression. Unfortuantely, I think I must have missed Music For a Found Harmonium. I loved how the audience sang along despite the songs being lyricless - a sign of a truly engaged audience.

And if the Penguin Cafe were there to chill us out, The Skatalites were there to wake us up again. Out on the open air stage, they had the whole crowd in skanking unity. Guns of Navarone, Ska Ska Ska and You're Wondering Now had me muddying my vocal chords as well as my Doctor Marten boots. The threat of rain loomed over us but our good spirit seemed to push it into nothing more than half-arsed drizzle as nightfall crept over us.



Friday aka DUB DAY had the lineup that most excited me that weekend. The Little Red tent clearly seemed the place to be, with the music being kick-started by the Creole Choir of Cuba (try saying that after a couple of pints of Perry!). Punctuating traditional Cuban rhythms with catchy harmonies and colourful costumes, they set the bar high. The audience were not quite ready to dance wildly at this stage, but the next act on followed where The Skatalites left off with Dub Colossus producing some great bass-heavy beats to skank to. They are a relatively little-known but held the crowd easily as they locked into the off-beat and teasing vocal hooks. The WOMAD programme suggested an Ethiopian twist on dub though they seem to hail from London Town - I'm looking forward to seeing them again on the gig circuit if that's the case!

The second Dub meal of the day followed at 7pm. The great legend that is Mad Professor sat at the decks with the crown as king of dub still planted firmly on his head. His version of I Chase the Devil had all the Prodigy-diggin' yout dem skanking and shouting proud. I came out of that gig sweating and positively in awe of the body-shaking bass tremors I had just been blessed with.



The next act, Bristol-based RSD looked promising (and quite reminiscent of Bristol-based TC, who played last year. However, the soundsystem just couldn't seem to handle the bass that was being pumped out of it, resulting in distortion and a general lack of volume. Disheartened, I went and joined Zambezi Express and led the drum circle for a little while (fun!). When I returned, the soundsystem seemed to have sorted itself out and RSD was on a blinder. The whole tent was bouncing as he churned out some Drum and Bass dub-inspired choons. MC Joe Peng spat some great lyrics into the microphone. I don't know if it's the change in music variety at WOMAD or just a natural demographic shift, but WOMAD seemed a lot younger this year. There were certainly a lot of teenage yout going loopy in the red tent that night.



I must admit that Saturday was mainly spent in San Fran's Disco, supplier of 7.5% local brewed perry and exceptionally funky DJs. I did manage to catch the Chicago-based Hypnotic Brass Ensemble with their tasty blend of brass jam band and American hip-hop. They reminded me of The Youngblood Brass Band only with a more gutsy, less beourgeoisie edge to them. Radiokijada, brainchild of Rodolfo Munoz and Christoph Mueller of Gotan Project fame, put on a stunning set. Being french, I expected them to have a bit more funky and contemporary take on things, but I ended up being perfectly happy with their more traditional peruvian-latin vibes. It's only partially to do with the fact that they use the lower jawbone of a donkey as one of their core percussive instruments that I enjoyed it so much.



The rest of Saturday was spent avoiding Peter Gabriel on the open air stage (harder than it sounds!). Don't get me wrong, he's done a great thing in founding WOMAD and he's a talented musician, but I still find it a bit odd that he's billed himself as headliner of his own festival. I mean, you wouldn't catch Michael Eavis doing that at Glastonbury, would you? I'll give dear old Peter the benefit of the doubt, however, as I vaguely remember something about Boy George being billed earlier on in the year, so it could be possible that he was merely filling in.

Afro-Cuban Funk DJ Snowboy looked like a fantastic end to the evening, but it seemed that the earlier issues with RSD the previous night had returned to haunt the Big Red Tent. The soundsystem sounded half cut and made it too uncomfortable for us to listen to; it was borderline sacreligious to hear such great music in this castrated form. We left and instead spent the night talking rubbish and chilling out with fellow festival weirdos in the Chai tent.



Sunday aka FUNK day started lazily. We ambled in at 2pm to catch Styl'o'styl. They were perhaps the strangest act I saw at WOMAD this year (apart from the musical milkfloat that made melodies with partial empty milk jugs as does a merry-go-round). Live Miles Davis-style experimental funk was combined with three men performing breakin' and contemporary dance movements. It was very very French and ever so slightly twee in its execution. I think it might have been the dancer's frantic movements to the more freeform sections that did it. Nonetheless, it was a great way to ease our addled brains into a new day.

WOMAD then gave us two fabulous funk extravaganza with the all-powerful Sweet Vandals followed by my favourite funk discovery of the last few years, The Apples. Hailing from Madrid, The Sweet Vandals were electric. The frontwoman was a powerhouse of sound - think Beth Ditto of the funk world - and had an equally energetic group of musicians backing her. The bassist and hammond organist in particular were exceptional (the latter only had one hand, which tripped some of the more spangled festival-goers out quite a bit). The Apples produced an absolute sweat-fest with the entire crowd jumping to their brassy funk rhythms and frantic drum breaks. Their last song was an amazing cover of Rage Against the Machine - Killing In the Name that had all the audience under 30 belting their lungs out.



To my distress, I had to miss Youssou N'dour to see The Apples, who I'm told gave a sterling performance. There were so many acts on that I just couldn't manage to see, with worthy mentions including Caravan Palace, Roy Ayers and also Nneka, who apparently gave my brother an intense moment of musical enlightenment - gutted to have missed them!

WOMAD was a fantastic experience this year. As well as the music being divine at points, the people, the food and the weather were all I could hope for. It's not often that you're among so many people who are there simply to have a good time. Next year? Definitely. I'd really like to see Gilles Peterson, Panjabi MC, ESG or even Rob da Bank take the stage, but we knows what surprises Mr. Gabriel has in store!