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.

Good Shoes + Wild Palms (matinée) - The Stag's Head - 22/01/10

I was fortunate enough to nab myself and Amy - best mate and partner in crime on Wired Radio - a couple of press passes to see Good Shoes celebrate the launch of their new album, No Hope No Future in the third of four evenings at local hackney boozer, The Stag's Head.

They've been a bit quiet after having reached #55 in the UK album charts with the wonderfulThink Before You Speak in 2007. They've had a shuffle in management and, no doubt, the recession is partly to blame somewhere along the line (it nearly always is) but this gig certainly proved that they were still as fresh and fiesty as ever.

The Stag's Head is a venue much underrated. Situated at the back of a cosy public house (complete with fireplace) the place was filled with trendy but down-to-earth punters and the ocassional cheeky local. The room was teeny, but wonderfully intimate rather than cramped or uncomfrotable. Whether this was also true of the night-time performance later that evening is another story. The acoustics of the place were also surprisingly good - very refreshing after last night's prog-metal headache.

Post-punk art-schoolers Wild Palms provided the support for the night, and a mighty fine job they made of it too. They made up for any comparable deficiencies in footwear with their Brick Lane-approved jumpers and dashing good looks. Oh, and their music wasn't bad either. The lead singer had a beautiful set of lungs on him, with the reverb effect adding to the hypnotic feel of their sound. He also managed to simultaneously play the synth/drum machine with great skill to form a jam with the rest of the band who were equally skilled and good looking.



Their debut single release, 'Over...time' was exciting, dark and without a whiff of pretntiousness. It's available for free download here and I highly recommend you do!

With refreshingly little kafuffle, Good Shoes then took to the stage. They looked slightly more frayed at the edges than their 2007 selves, but this was more like a new maturity than being 'past it'. The quality of their shoes certainly did not disappoint me, with the lead guitarist clearly ruling the roost with his impressive hi-top sneakers.



Musically, they were absolutely superb. Their new songs were just as great as their old ones, with Under Control already half way to becoming a major indie hit. The sparkling sounds of the lead guitar bounced off Rhys' strums, the bass and the finely-tuned sounds of the drummer to create a fresh bouncing sound not without a certain level of darkness to keep it interesting.



Full of energy even after their fifth performance in three days, these guys only disappointed in that their set didn't last for long enough!

Good Shoes' new album is available here for the princely sum of £8.99 or at the gig itself. Tickets for tonight's show will be available on the door if you get there early enough!

Mr Ron Jetson & Acquaintances - The Amersham Arms - 21/01/10

The Myspace page of Mr Ron Jetson gives little away. However, the claim that he sounds like 'Chris Martin being fucked up the arse by satan' coupled with rumours that he was a 'hottie' was enough to get me down The Amersham Arms on this chilly evening.

I sadly missed the opportunity to see Mr Ron himself, though those of you familiar with my radio show - Untried and Untested (Tue 7-9pm) - may have managed to catch an earful of him last Tuesday as I played the cheeky ‘Femme Fatale'. It's just the right blend of artschool comedy and actual musical skill.

Arriving just shy of 10pm, the band usually known as Nought had renamed themselves Womblout for the ocassion in order to treat us to an extended experimental jam. The noise they were making certainly demonstrated a certain level of skill, but their amps were up so LOUD. Call me old and past-it if you want,but I really reckon turning down the levels to just below deafening would have allowed me to listen to them properly without feeling like I was self-harming.

As a result, this fairly well-attended room kept well clear of the stage (aside from a few headbanging mad-experimental types round the edges). This might have somewhat explained the band's apparent disregard of their listeners as they entered into an utterly self-indulgent 20-minute act of musical masturbation. Utterly experimental and in all senses ‘free', any music they were producing was sadly covered by a layer of distorted mess.

My fag break signalled a breakpoint, but upon my return DJ Tommy Two Screens had taken to the decks. He provided a refreshing blend of funky ska, mixing classics like The Specials' Ghost Town with some more obscure tunes that nontheless kept the crowd dancing.

Up next was experimental blues/metal duo Dead Days Beyond Help . I feared another headache, but these guys were rather more forgiving. Unlike the previous band, they had the courtesy to make music with a definitive start and end point! I was pretty impressed by how tight they were as they accomplished some great feats of synchronised silence. Alex Ward's guitar riffs somehow managed to groove bluesily through its distorted metal sound, whilst Jem's frantic drumming incorporated ska and even indie-pop elements to create a pretty unique sound. Unfortunately it wasn't quite my scene, but kudos needs to be given to the guys (as well as Tommy Two Screens) for giving the punters a fresh and unusual gig experience.

'Access Denied!' is Dead Days Beyond Help's debut album and is available from Copepod Records, their own indie label

The Broken Family Band say Adieu @ The Portland Arms - 31/10/09

The Broken Family Band have been a staple diet for my gig calender since I first saw them at the Cambridge Arts Picture House in October 2003 alongside Ruby Nichols, who we now all know and love as Captain.

Since then, TBFB have gone from tongue-in-cheek alt-country with the likes of Jesus Songs, The King Will Build A Disco and Cold Water Songs to harder, romantic renaissance post-rock in .



These changes were warmly embraced by fans and (most) critics alike, and Glastonbury, Koko and International tours began to replace their previous tendency to play more intimate pub venues as their fanbase grew. Their stint on Skins with It's All Over and offers to play on Later With Jools Holland looked set to propel them into the bigtime, but they always lurked tantalisingly beneath the surface, never quite 'making it'.



Their last album, Please and Thank You seemed to baffle a lot of the committed BFB-ers. While the music and lyric-writing was still solid, the album seemed to lack the personality so integral to the Broken Family way. Perhaps whatever musical horse they were flogging had begun to die a little. Other sources suggest conflicting interests between the boys. Whatever the reason, it was announced in September that The Broken Family Band would be playing their last ever gig on Hallowe'en at their Cambridge pub of choice, The Portland Arms.

I expected the atmosphere to be somewhat demure or reflective, but with most of the gig-goers dressed up trick-or-treat style, it was quite a hard attitude to maintain. There was an air of excitement - more of a wake than a funeral.



The band came on without a support at around 9pm. I wondered if there would be costumes or adornments but no, they were simply focussed on the task at hand - and boy what a task. They ploughed into a stonking 2 and a half hour set with a repertoire covering all artistic corners. As well as beautiful renditions of At the Back of the Chapel and Dancing on the 4th Floor they surprised us all by cracking out beauties from their ancient archives. (I Don't Have The Time To) Mess Around was hilarious, with Steve's grostesque embellishments about granny spunk in the intro reminding us just exactly what made this band special.



The Cambridge crowd did themselves proud - they sang, they laughed hell - they even danced! About an hour in you could see the sweat dripping off the walls and back onto the faces of the people it came from.



And so it came to the end with John Belushi. The four boys stuck their absolute heart and soul in as if they were pushing in all the work of the last 8 years. Jay cradled his guitar like a baby, Steve looked intensely into the middle distance, Mick leant back mouth open and Gav stood up. The song ended, the people clapped and there were post-coital manhugs all-round. I'm gonna miss these boys dearly, but it was one hell of a ride that saw me through my teen years. As Steve mentioned one fan reckoning, they're probably the sort of band that will reform every 10 years. Not quite a compliment, but here's to hoping! There does seems to be promise of new musical escapades from the boys on the horizon at least - the legacy lives on!

Mr Scruff @ Koko - 24/10/09

I've seen Mr. Scruff various times around the country (from Manchester to Wales, Wiltshire to Cambridge) and his gigs have varied considerably (from awesome to average). His selection of music from the world of funk, hip hop, latin, ska, electro and beyond is always spot on, with the soundsystem and venue (*ahem* The Junction) being the only real reason for an auditory let-down.



This was fortunately not to be at Koko. Reknowned venue it is, the bass came thick and heavy into the ears and got even those up on highest balconies getting their boogie on.
He does great build ups to heavy basslines and knows exactly how to make his audience move, even if what he's doing technically is pretty simple. Sometimes simplicity is exactly what you need for a knees up. He avoided the temptation to play 'the hits' - Get A Move On and Fish spring to mind. Instead he played a lot of new and exciting stuff off Ninja Tuna and Bonus Bait. This barely mattered at all as Scruff's selection will make you dance whether you know the tune or not

I've sometimes found Andy's animations to be irritating and twee, especially in its efforts to be 'oh so random' with pictures of pies and fish. This seemed to have been toned down in comparison to the other gigs and the animations updated a little to incorporate some pretty amusing saxophone-wielding characters, funky spinning records and other music-related visual delights.



Scruff has worked hard to merchandise himself - his tea stand is now something of a legend - but the need to sell felt a lot more toned down than on previous occassions. I was happy to see that they were giving away free online mp3s of the night (you simply have to input a code onto his website) and were selling a lot more actual music (as opposed to badges/bags/tshirts) that I remember.

As far as the crowd itself went, the place was packed. It was great to see such a varied age range dancing together - scruff certainly had a broad appeal. The number of people completely off their heads was pretty impressive, but everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves an awful lot. His bass and brass-heavy beats kept the place shaking on down so much so that we had to leave the dancefloor for a breather. Andy Scruff truly minced it.

The Fiery Furnaces + Pete Um @ Cargo - 08/10/09

The Fiery Furnaces played their first London gig for two years this evening at Cargo - Shoreditch's prime music hangout.
At 8pm, Cambridge-based electro-poet and all-round decent guy, Pete Um, took to the stage as support.

Having seen the chap perform various times, I expected this tame-looking London crowd to be weirded out by his eccentric and passion-stuffed performance, but they took to him very well! Fortunately this was a crowd that was prepared to listen (and even laugh!) at what Pete had to say, with appreciative head nods during ‘Evil', an old classic, and ‘Understand', one of Pete's new tunes.



The pre-gig nerves wore off quickly and Pete pulled off a great set - a change to previous ‘disaster’ gigs he claimed to have performed at Cargo previously.

The Fiery Furnaces have been kicking around since 2000 and it was quite plain to see that through the battered and crusty-looking male audience they attracted. There certainly were enough of them to completely pack out Cargo, though.



The frontlady, bedecked in double denim and shrouded by a shaggy fringe cut, was quite captivating, with vocals ranging from slow, drawn out phrases to Joni Mitchell-esque speed-speaking. The bass guest-played by Jason Lowenstein (of Sebadoh fame) was growling, slick and eminent of The Stranglers, which was accompanied nicely by the rim-click savvy rhythmic musings of the drummer.

The songs were a far cry from the standard verse-verse-chorus formula we've come to expect, with break-downs, jams, tempo-changes and time-signature explorations commonplace around every corner. Only ocassionally did it seem self-indulgent, as some of their ‘hit’ songs were played with so much that the audience could not follow them.

The sound was intriguing. Their post-punk funky vibe hailed influence from The Banshees, Au Pairs, Joni, Skunk Anansie and The Slits amongst others. However, as they seamlessly rolled their songs into each other I began to find that their music was quite unchanging. Much of their new material sounded very similar, with only ‘Drive to Dallas’ really grabbing my attention.



The band were tight, dynamic and original-sounding, but after about 5 songs I realised their sound proceeded no further. I watched them soldier through 1.5 hours of the same noise, with my nitial excitement at their fresh sound petering steadily into apathy.

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!

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!

THE 12TH BIG NIGHT @ CARGO - 16/07/09 - United Vibrations + Nathan 'Flutebox' Lee + Kalakuta + MCs/DJs

The Big Issue , following recent trends set by OXJAM and Bollocks to Poverty, are now in the habit of fundraising in the form of running gigs across the country . With previous lineups in London brimming with impressive household names - The Levellers, The Noisettes, Adrian Sherwood and *shudder* The Alabama 3 being among them - it is a wonder as to why these monthly events aren't more popular.

When this month's event was brought to my attention I was very excited. I'd seen Nathan 'Flutebox' Lee before at WOMAD last year and he blew my mind with his beatastic musical multi-tasking. Adding to the tantalisation, TBI's Facebook page boasted "Afro Beats, Hip-Hop, Inspiring Spoken Word and rib shaking live dance rhythms." so I was all ready to grab my pint and shake my booty...and all in the name of a good cause!

United Vibrations, part of lefty musical collective 12tonewere first to take the stage. As the supposed headliners, this confused me somewhat. I was informed that Cargo-ers tended to go to bed early on weekdays, so it gets busiest at around 9pm. Fortunately I had already been nicely warmed up by the funky hip-hop beats of DJ Snuff (not to mention a rather potent bottle of cider. I was ready to enjoy myself, but nothing was to prepare me for what I heard next.



Operating as Vocals, Drums, Bass, Sax and Trombone, this very attractive band produced an equally amazing sound. The beautiful harmonic bassline worked so well that I only twigged two songs into their set that they had no guitarist. In addition, the drummer was awe-inspiring, bashing out fast-paced funk rhythms with flawless movement between afro-cuban rhythms, varying tempos and even time signature. Saxophonist Wayne talked about his disregard of the need to conform to musical genre restrictions and indeed, it felt like I was listening to Miles Davis, Gil Scott Heron, Jimi Hendrix and Ray Baretto all at the same time. Catchy shouted hooklines like 'I know who I am/Do you know who you are?' gave this tight group of musicians a delicious political edge.


After an unfairly short set (simply because of the massive lineup!) came Nathan 'Flutebox' Lee. Just as I remembered, he put on a great show. The audience loved him and I couldn't move for the number of cameraphones being waved at him. Joined by Skrein to provide some of the bassier, darker tones he got the whole crowd crotch-grabbing and arm waving as best they could. Their version of Knightrider (click link for video) was definitely my favourite of the night!



What followed proved to be a little disappointing. I'm sure Riz MC, shortMAN and Mic Righteous had very profound and creative things to say - Riz has even performed with the likes if Nitin Sawnhey and Plan B! - but with the room slowly emptying it was very difficult to get into it, especially after being so furiously warmed up by the previous two acts. MCs are not neccessarily something you can dance to and the waning crowd just weren't in the mood to listen.

Cargo is a lovely place, but I felt it was a bit mismatched to the music vibe The Big Issue crew were trying to project. Holding an anti-capitalist, revolutionary and politically charged energy was difficult in a venue normally reserved for the Shoreditch prat. It didn't help that the room was also half-empty for the majority of the night. I felt so sorry for the poor MCs performing in front of us and about 10 other people and couldn't help thinking that their message would be more appreciated were they back at previous haunt at Proud.

The Big Issue are making these gigs a monthly venture. They have great acts and a great venue - all they really seem to need are great numbers of people. Get your welly down there next month - it'll be fun and it's for a very worthy cause!

Glastonbury - review from my bedroom

Unlike last year, I did not spend 5 days scrubbing vegan risotto from industrial-sized pans in exchqange for the privilege of attending Glastonbury festival. Since acquiring my flashy new Camberwell mid-terrace, I discovered that bills and rent and a whole host of other boring yet neccessary demands on my finances required me to stay put and sell bicycles.

I'm sure the purists among us will shout that not 'being there' will affect my musical judgements of the bands (i.e. Not being completely off my nut when Lady Gaga sang Love Game might explain why I didn't enjoy it quite as much as some of the audience). As a result, I'll keep my critique brief.

Dizzee Rascal
Mind-blowing, as I expected. The grimey basslines coming from my subwoofer were phenomenal, and his sampling of Dirty Cash (Money Talks by The Adventures of Stevie V was inspiration itself. He really knows how to pull out a break. Having the rest of his crew visible and not banished to side-stage darkness was also really nice to see - which brings me nicely onto...



Lady Gaga

Terrible. Silly dancers, poor vocal performance and general musicianship (was she actually *playing* that ridiculously ornate keyboard?). I can only really give her credit for her effort with the costumes.

Franz Ferdinand
Having seen these guys live before shortly after the release of You Could Have It So Much Better, I was looking forward to seeing how they'd moved on. The band performed with a massive energy throughout the 2-hour set, whipping the audience into a frenzy even with their newer and less familiar songs. Their musical tightness was also blindingly impressive. They took some time out of their hit-busting for some wickedly slow build-up jams. My favourite was definitely the collective drumkit battering by the four - the energy between them all was simply intense. 3 albums in, these guys are still original, still interesting, and, most importantly, Kopranos is still hot.



By contrast, I've just finished watching...

Blur
By about 16 I had migrated from being a solid Oasis girl to a Blur bitch - they certainly have the musical edge over their Mancunian rivals if they fail at the attitude. I was sceptical about their reformation, hence dismissing the opportunity to pay £25 for the privilege of seeing them at my student union. Judging from what I've seen tonight, it seems that this scepticism is not wholly unfounded. Whilst they bashed out the crowd-pleasers well enough, there seemed to be a distinct lacking of energy. Where Franz Ferdinand felt electric, Blur simply felt regurgitated and about as inspiring as a bunch of middle-aged men dressed as Shoreditch trendies sounds.

The current trend for reforming has left one member of the Jackson 5 dead, a previously iconic indie band broken into cringey pieces of their former self and a bunch of Essex ravers postively on fire.