Apple Rabbits- Yeah (Single) « Result #1 on Aug 26, 2009, 7:51pm »
What can apple rabbits' jay fisher mean by "is that a blue eye and one leg bone" is it nonsense or otherwise. The ever illusive Jay Fisher isn't letting on but what I do know is that it doesn't really matter because Yeah is by far the most haunting of apple rabbits' singles to date. It's a brilliant mix of electronic, electric and acoustic. Love it!
The Sizzling Gypsies « Result #3 on Jun 9, 2009, 7:55pm »
The Sizzling Gypsies 29th April 2009 The Enterprise, Camden
Its official, rhythm and blues is fully evident in the tap water in Coventry, fortunately for the 30-40 foot-tapping music loving audience in the Enterprise last night, 5 males have been drinking gallons of the stuff. Raucous vocals, drooling riffs and boundless energy were the first impressions I got from The Sizzling Gypsies, put these traits together with an ability to write and perform huge songs and it seems all the ingredients are in place. Granted, I’ve only known of the band for roughly 48 hours through my friend Kev who has known the members of the band for several years, but having witnessed 30 minutes of material last night it’s easy to get pretty excited. This short review wasn’t planned so there’s going to be no in depth analysis of any of the songs played, I’ll save that for the next time I see them play, which hopefully will be in June when the band sweep into the capital, instruments and attitude in tow. I’m not going to draw any comparisons as I believe each band is unique in its own special way, but the spirit of The Doors and all they stood for seems to manifest itself around The Sizzling Gypsies. Which isn’t a bad thing surely? That brief interlude aside, check out there MySpace site for songs and upcoming gigs and let the musical fusion take over your senses.
The Specials, Millennium Square, Leeds, 24.05.09 « Result #5 on May 28, 2009, 3:11pm »
The Specials Millennium Square, Leeds Sunday 24th May 2009
Young and old skankers alike turned out in force on Sunday, to welcome legendary Two Tone ska band The Specials back to Leeds. After a thirty-year absence, Terry Hall marked the Millennium Square leg of the group’s long-awaited reunion tour by apologising for “taking so long to come back”. All was forgiven though, as the diverse congregation of contented cider-infused spectators (save for the few miniature offspring of original ska aficionados) were just thrilled to be present on such a momentous day.
The absence of Jerry Dammers prompted the question of whether relations are quite what they once were in the rude boy camp, however the evening was not sullied by this one exception and the remaining members-Terry Hall, Lynval Golding, Neville Staple, Roddy Byers, Horace Panter and John Bradbury-performed as passionately and energetically as they did back in 1976, when they first notably Rocked Against Racism.
Golding prompted the monochrome-clad, yet still colourful, crowd to consider the group’s ongoing social endeavours, by announcing “Don’t vote BNP!” as ‘A Message to You Rudy’ started up-a stark reminder that their campaigning for racial harmony is as relevant today as it was three decades ago.
Nevertheless, The Specials’ on-stage revelry remained to be as infectious as ever as they delivered more celebrated tracks such as ‘Rat Race’ and Gangsters’, which were repeatedly met with immediate joy from their newly sunburnt and exuberant followers.
Staple’s declaration of “This is for the bouncers” accompanying the intro of ‘Monkey Man’; the contagious mass singsong commanded by ‘(Dawning of a) New Era’; and the undeniable raucousness of ‘Concrete Jungle’; they all ensured that watchers were left in no doubt that expectations were being firmly lived up to, and even surpassed-one might expect that ageing thirty years could slow The Specials down somewhat-one would be wrong.
Revellers occasionally leaned a little too far towards boisterousness, but old staples such as ‘Ghost Town’ directed proceedings from the punk realm of ‘Do the Dog’ into the more relaxed, calypso-inspired area of The Specials’ work.
The 7,000-strong assemblage cheered for more as the six performers teasingly exited the stage, before returning for the inevitable encore. The triumphant comeback gig was rounded off with impeccable versions ‘Too Much Too Young’, ‘Longshot Kick de Bucket’, ‘Skinhead Moonstomp’ and Enjoy Yourself.
Terry Hall assured all that the appreciation was reciprocated, stating: “Thanks very much, it’s been a privilege”. Although over a generation had passed since The Specials’ previous visit, Leeds was left in no doubt that the boys have kept their feet on the ground, and the connection between band and audience has never been lost.
The Death of British Export « Result #6 on Apr 28, 2009, 8:46am »
In our Lord’s year of two thousand AD the term Punk held some foundation in the form of the Pop Punk and Garage bands which fared so well. Yet these genres soon morphed into forms that seemed to hold little relation to the roots of Punk: the British groups such has the Clash, The Sex Pistols and The Buzzc*cks, the Detroit Godfathers; the MC5 and The Stooges, the NY groups such as The Ramones, The Voidiods and the might of The Heartbreakers,
Our Father, Johnny Thunders, Which art in CBGB's, Hallowed be thy name,
With the rise of the Emo groups the term Punk suddenly seemed lost in a sea of bad hairdos and weepy song-writing about how hard is to get laid when you are a guy who wears make up. Meanwhile in the circles frequented by Indie bands the Punk mantle of aggressive simplicity was evidently present, yet the wit and raw power was seemingly absent, instead traded for radio friendly Pop about how great the 1980’s were.( Once again I am eagerly anticipating neon pink pop art Margaret Thatcher T-shirts reciting such timeless slogans as “THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS SOCIETY”). The potential for British music exhibiting basic Punk principles, (e.g. Attacking NME journalist on sight) did not look favorable and to be honest still looks quite bleak.
Enter The Depths, a three piece willing to address this issue in the only way possible: an angry head-on assault of guttural screams, unearthly feedback, break neck drum beats and teeth grinding bass lines. A tattered banner of tartan safety pinned to shredded rags of red, white and blue ready to be thrust into the faces of those who should dare think that the spirit of British Punk has died and become forgotten.
“The Death of British Export” is the first full length effort from the band and has all the strength of the first Joy Division record, the first offering from The Smiths or The Stranglers; that anxiety of a message that needs to be heard. However there were no pretensions in the making of this record, it was in fact recorded over a few months out the back of a pub, the finished record being the outcome of hours upon hours of weekend jams and hard graft at live shows; self recorded, produced and packaged a true DIY effort. Their influences range from At The Drive In to Johnny Cash to Ozric Tentacles, from Drum & Bass to Jazz to Motown. Such a blend of influences eventually creates what can only be described as Rock and Roll, though not in a contrived “we-want-to-sound-like-Aerosmith” kind of way.
The record itself plays out in as a stream of controlled chaos,; “Avin’ It” is a nihilistic salute to living life to the max with that descending dark dystopian Punk vibe, almost Syd Barrettesque at times, twisting guitar parts with a bass line and back beat straight off a Stranglers record. “Sweet Summer” swings through a turbulent sway of feedback, ghostly vocals and bright lead guitar parts reminiscent of Joy Division, complete with a melodic bass riffs, falling into a Jack White style pitch shifted guitar solo. “Met The Devil” is one of those stand out tracks, beginning with a murky fretted to open fretted bass line stewing in a wall of distortion backed by a stark bass drum beat, while the vocals kick off as if sneered down a megaphone; “Met the devil In a pub last night…”
It holds that real “f**k you” quality of the retro Oi! Punk groups like The Angelic Upstarts. It lifts into a moody waltz of wails, hard beats and dark melodies, The Devil is swaying towards you; his head is low, so much so that you can just about see his eyes peering up at you. The apocalypse is now; it is coming unto you and The Depths are providing the backing track. Quite fitting, seeing as we are talking about a band that was banned from Camden, yes, the entire district, for bad behavior. “Recluse” is a runaway train of Noise Rock stumbling around like a Dead Kennedy’s track, falling into a low almost Cool Jazz groove that suddenly gets thrown back in to a fray of violent screeches and screams.
“Systems a Liar” shows The Depths exploring more melodic place stalled somewhere between Joy Division, the Strokes and Biffy Clyro. The same energy is present but this time it is combined with an intelligent use of layers, an attempt at a more textured sound, taking enough ideas for 10 songs, putting them all into one and pulling it off. “Innocent Lies” had the kind of knock-your-teeth-out-and-keep-dancing energy usually reserved for the likes of Turbo Negro. With regards to “Concrete head” I defy anyone to listen to this song and not instantly develop a burning desire to purchase a keg of extra strong Kentish ale, as many fireworks as they can humanly carry, a convertible rental car and then head out into the country side on a high speed burn of atrocious destruction and mind bending mayhem. Finally “Taxi” appears to be an attempt to create a song that listeners can alternate their dancing to. Not that there would be much choice, in fact it would alternate between the Sid Vicious ‘pogo’ and the ‘Hardcore dance’ (e.g. Swinging legs high and fist low). The song catches it’s breath long enough to allow the listener a quick swig of their pint before The Depths explode one last time and ring out on the tortured guitar and thundering rumble of the bass.
Punk is not dead for The Depths are alive. Listen to them and remember what that word really means.
Colouring In at Club Motherf**ker « Result #8 on Mar 17, 2009, 3:32pm »
This was going to be a two act, double review of Rex the Dog -a great and well known DJ- and Colouring In - a breaking act pushing to establish a new sound.
But on arriving at Club Motherf**ker in Stoke Newington for its final monthly party, the black board on the street announced that Rex would not be appearing due to a bout of Dog flu. Undeterred I still paid my six quid, and one beer later Colouring In front man Henry Bennet was making the final adjustments to his band’s four synthesisers.
An choir boy in his youth , Bennet has hung up the smock, choosing now to perform in a vest -white- and jacket -grey with the sleeves rolled up, a la The Eighties. Appropriately the synths are used to create a sound not un-reminiscent of that particular era, but there is enough Naughties edge for it all to sound thoroughly new wave. Add to that Bennet’s rich vocal talent -often sounding like its being pushed hard - and you have a fresh sound that had a trendy crowd nodding in agreement.
Not long in to the set the 80’s jacket had to come off due to the sweaty effort Colouring In’s front man was putting in at the mic stand. This contrasted with his cool as ice buddies pushing the keys behind him impassively -in one case one handedly.- as if to reassure the crowd they weren’t really that in to it.
Talented enough but cool enough to be trendy, mixing a deliberately retro feel with modern electro; if their headline act drops ill again I wouldn’t worry
Gold Future Joy Machine - Live Review « Result #10 on Mar 10, 2009, 12:35pm »
Gold Future Joy Machine March 9th 2009 Live Review
East London is known most, in musical terms at least, for its role in evolving UK dance music in particular its history of british Hip hop, Grime and Ragga. However a new sound is also evolving in Hackney estates below the radar that maybe has as much to do with Grunge guitars as it does the bleeps and glitsches of Beau Grime or Shoreditch Electro.
Gold Future Joy Machine are a sonic wrecking ball five piece that electrified The Star of Bethnal Green last night, and are the undisputed kings and queens of this new sound. Taking to the stage in rugged monochrome their opening song was called "Sons and daughters". It sounded like J-Dilla being torn apart by the entire past and present roster of the sub-pop label. A brilliant opener. Frontman Johnny Kenton's primal voice cuts through the squelchy synths and dirt guitars with euphoric emotion. After being blitzed for so long by eighties revivalists, mockney troubadours and ironic poptarts, it is easy to forget how powerful it is when someone just sings something they really mean.
GFJM, from cracking vocals to pounding dance beats seemed like they mean every bit of it. (Maybe this is the link that these rock and rollers have with their grime neighbours? Both are trying to just tell us their story - how it is, and unadulterated.)
Two songs in and the GFJM party had started. A song called "Space Race" was barbed with strong lyrics such as: "You're so do or die you're going to download my soul/ we're no oil paintings but now our backs are up against the wall" - A generational hit against the plastic state of things? A look into a troubled relationship? I couldn't tell you. At the time though these words made perfect sense.
The virtuoso drummer kicked out break beats while the sonic-youth/anything goes style guitarists lurched between sweet dream pop and scrapheap explosion. I found out after the show that the band had managed to completely break up three guitars during this show with these antics... Not bad in a half hour set!
Despite the 1000 watt energy and the trashed guitars GFJM and their scene are not all angst like their Seattle forebears. Gold Future Joy Machine - as their name suggests- have beats that are there to make you dance and a playful light touch with melody. There sweeter side was personified at one side of the stage by their sleek mixed-race angel, who looked like a honey-coloured Francois Hardy in torn rock-chick chic .She added Beach Boys style harmonies to johnny's soaring vocal and did not stop dancing for one second. It seems like GFJM even have their own Nico - except their one can really sing.
The midpointsong was called "Holy Roller", and was in my mind the most underdeveloped song in an other wise top class display of songwriting. It felt like an MGMT remix of My Bloody Valentine and too much like "the now" rather than the wonderful future promise that is in the rest of the songs. But the drummer and Johnny the singer still managed to give it enough verve and soul to roll us into a final lightening storm of the last tunes. These were littered with punked up synth loops and knife sharp lyrics- my favourite lines coming in the encore - "the agony and the ecstasy. became the agony aunt and the ecstacy dealer." A fitting send off for a totally refreshing show.
Agony and Ecstacy? Yes. Joy Machine? Definitely. Grunge and East London Dance Music? All there...as well as a load of psyched up Punk-Funk and Motown Soul thrown in for good measure. How do you explain this sound? Gold Future Joy Machine seem by design or accident to be on the brink of something. They've got their finger firmly on the raw nerve of the outsiders and the lost ones of a new generation and a new sound to give them hope. They really are that on it. they really are that important. But will they have a Gold Future? This band are special: and in a way that's my worry. The case seems to be with fresh things (as what happened to the East London Grime and with Grunge too) this scene will be become labelled, copied and exploited. With the industry the way it is you can almost see the train crash coming between the irresistable force of GFJM and the immovable force of an industry that seems to have lost its head to an extent it will jump at anything to make some cash. It will be fascinating to see what happens, whether GFJM will be at the forefront of a backlash against the x factor winners, cold play impersonators and gaga popettes or whether this band and its scene will be forced by an army of pet shop boys to spread its roots subterraneanly. Whatever happens, like the band it will make good watching.
Gold Future Joy Machine, don't play perfect sets yet: they are too newly formed and too punk in attitude. If you want that effortless slickness and melodic skill a ticket to see Cold play is still your best bet. But GFJM have something that I haven't seen in years. They'll remind you of what we seem to have forgotten about rock 'n' roll: that in the right hands it has the power to inspire and express things that other ways feel unsaid. I don't think you can ask anything more of a live band than that.
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