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Friday, July 4th, 2008
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10:09 pm - mondo twitters
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| Thursday, July 3rd, 2008
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10:17 pm - mondo twitters
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| Wednesday, July 2nd, 2008
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10:23 pm - mondo twitters
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| Tuesday, July 1st, 2008
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11:01 pm - mondo twitters
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| Monday, June 30th, 2008
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10:39 pm - mondo twitters
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| Friday, June 27th, 2008
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10:13 pm - mondo twitters
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| Thursday, June 26th, 2008
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10:15 pm - mondo twitters
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12:38 pm - London Festival of Architecture 2008
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I popped into the New London Architecture centre on Store Street a couple of days ago, to pick up some info on this year's architecture festival. As you can see from the picture below, I came away with a lot of stuff.
A selection of the free leaflets, flyers, booklets, fold-outs and postcards about LFA2008
If you're interested in any of the events they're advertising, there are links posted as notes over all of them on the Flickr page (just click on the picture). Alternatively, have a look at the GIANT poster size of the original I slapped together in Photoshop last night. I'm interested in some of the events, not all of them. I'm thinking of heading over to Greenwich/Canary Wharf this Saturday as this weekend there's loads of events taking place over that way. Anyone fancy joining me for teh Great London Parks Tea Party and Freebooter on Saturday? (Or am I gonna have to go all on my own again?) There's also the opportunity to take the Trinity Wharf shuttle boat, which is a unique chance to see the area from a completely new angle. To be honest, there's too much to actually be able to do it all. But that's part of the fun!
current music: Kassin+2: Agua
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(3 comments | comment on this)
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10:51 am
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Holy cannoli, Tunng were blimmin' marvellous on Saturday night. I'll admit I might be a bit biased, given that they're probably one of my top five bands these days1, but they really did play a SUPER-STONKING live show. I'm not sure my review can actually do them justice. As I mentioned in my review of Meltdown last week, I was lucky to have got great seats, so we had a brilliant view of the stage. I was also fortunate to have some great company from ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) woolly, and it turned out to be a fantastic evening all 'round.
Before Tunng came on, there were two support acts; the first up being George Pringle, who was described after her set by woolly as, "a posh, female Mike Skinner" and by me in return as, "a very English, teenage Peaches." Both descriptions should give you an idea of George Pringle's act; spoken word (not rap, not remotely), over heavy laptop/drum machine beats. Unfortunately, the beats in question were overloud and rather boring, which only served to alienate her from the audience. It seemed as though she lacked confidence in her own words, and as a result was unable to prioritise between her words and her backing music. This meant that frequently the lyrics were muffled, but perhaps if the music had even had more of a melody or a hook to catch upon, it might not have mattered. As it was, the music was just headache-inducing, and relentlessly repetitive, which I think was a shame because she had some funny and clever observations to make, when you could actually hear them.
She's also, obviously, very young, which gives her space and scope to improve. This was almost certainly the biggest gig she'd ever played, and just to have been invited to perform at Meltdown is a sign that she has potential, which I think she does. I reckon that once she warms into her role as a performer and gains more confidence in her own words, she could go pretty far indeed. I hope so, actually, because there are so few women successfully working the laptop-derived beats circuit, and it would be brilliant for that particular scene to become less of a sausage-fest. And let's face it, if you're going to take your inspiration from anyone, then to take it from someone like Peaches, who has more balls than most of the men on that scene, means you can't be doing it all wrong!
 After that, it was Fujiya & Miyagi, who some readers might remember as being recent hits of the blogosphere for their lovely animated dice video. When they first came on and started playing, I instantly thought of Kraftwerk. I also found myself asking, "are these guys math rock?" because George Pringle's last song had mentioned math rock, and I have to confess I'm not actually sure what it is, exactly. Maybe someone out there can enlighten me -- is it music that combines traditional indie-rock instruments with electronic instruments in a way that isn't electroclash? That's what it seems like it should be, in which case, I think, yes, Fujiya & Miyagi are math rock. (I actually asked this question of woolly, but she didn't know, either.)
To start with, we found them to be completely hilarious because they were so serious that we couldn't tell whether or not they were actually taking the piss. After a while, some of their lyrics gave it away2, because they were so ridiculously cheesy that it was obviously all a very arch, tongue-in-cheek pose, but they very cleverly maintained the utter deadpan moroseness, so that it worked. (That reminded me a lot of Kraftwerk, too.) Musically, they hit the bar somewhere between Joy Division and 808 State, as well as the aforementioned Kraftwerk influence. They sounded quite cold, especially compared to the warm sounds of a band like Tunng, but they were also quite funky and most of the audience were jiggling in their seats. Definitely a band to watch out for!
After a brief interval, where woolly and I shared a rather yummy piece of moist apple-and-thyme cake (yes, thyme, yes, it works), it was on to the main act of the night. To our instant amusement, all five of the male members of the band came onstage wearing hats of one sort or another, though most of these were shed before the third song was finished. 
Although they've been gigging for nigh on half a decade, this one was something of a first for the band, as lead singer and main lyricist, Sam Genders explained, "we're a bit nervous tonight, because for the first time in history, all of Tunng's parents are in the audience." Co-singer Becky Jacobs added, "it's just like the Harvest Festival. Except without the tins of soup."
Little jokes and explanations like this are a big part of what make Tunng such a fun band to watch; they like to include the audience in the performance, which generates a wonderful warmth. They're not the type of band who just stand on stage, do their set and disappear (which might, in fact, be part of why I found Fujiya & Miyagi to be quite cold; even though they made me laugh and they made me want to dance, they didn't try to engage with the audience beyond the stage). Tunng outwardly encourage audience participation, whether it's simply conversational banter ("Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me, happy midsummer!"), or handing out small packets of sweets for the audience to shake and rustle as additional percussion during Sweet William.
"It's amazing how quickly you make friends when you buy up all the sweets in the supermarket. I know everyone in the Clapham Asda, now!" Unfortunately, half the audience seemed to be "too cool" to join in for that (and yet those same people would probably quite happily clapped along if exhorted to do so3). I was so busy enjoying the music and the participatory nature of the performance during that song that it wasn't until after the gig that I even recognised the significance of them choosing that particular one (Sweet William. Oh, yeah. Duh).
There were so many moments during the gig that made me love the band even more than I already did. Seeing Becky strut and flounce around the stage with supreme confidence, and remembering how timid she seemed when I first saw them in 2006. Watching co-founder Mike Lindsay pulling ridiculously over-the-top RAWK postures with his acoustic guitar during the playback of the electric guitar samples of Soup ("this is for everyone who grew up listening to Iron Maiden!"); scissor-kicking and leaping and clearly having the MOST FUN EVAR, which was just totally contagious. The way the band quietly introduced their friend on the harp, and then sat cross-legged on the stage watching her while she performed a dark little ditty called Peach Heart. Later, watching her prance around at the back of the stage while the band played without her. Even the obvious mistakes just made me love them more, especially when I knew they were down to nervousness; like Sam attempting to introduce Woodcat [mp3] too early in the setlist, or describing Cans as "new" when it's on the album that came out last summer.
Despite people being "too cool" to rustle sweet wrappers on request, the audience were clearly having as good a time as me -- especially the band's families. The only person who didn't seem to be enjoying herself was (once again!) the woman who was sitting next to me, who didn't look like either a fan of folk or electronica, let alone a band who seem to have been formed from a musical diet largely consisting of The Wicker Man soundtrack and the entire back catalogue of Warp Records. And yes, I know one shouldn't judge by appearances, but she was about the right age to be a parent of someone in the band, and I suspect that's why she was there, because she didn't seem to be enjoying it enough to be a fan. She was the only one, though: the band were clearly having a whale of a time, their families were (mostly) loudly proclaiming their adoration, and everyone else was having a fantastic time, too.
 The best part came towards the end of the set, when Mike said, "This is a song about freedom. You can dance if you want, or, y'know, just stamp your feet a lot," and they launched into a rousing version of Bricks, which had half the people in the audience storming the front of the stage for a good old boogie. So much fun! The poor security guys didn't know what to do. I had a great time dancing right at the front of the stage, and my jaw started to ache because I was grinning so hard. They finished their set with an ace stamp-along version of last year's single, Bullets, briefly went off-stage and came back for a one-song encore of Jenny Again, which was perhaps a sad song to finally end with, but despite its dark subject matter, it's still got that element of hopefulness and warmth which permeates all of Tunng's songs, so we all left the venue in a good mood. There are some bands that, once you've seen them you just want to watch them all over again right now, and Tunng are one of those bands.
Post-gig, woolly and I popped into the Royal Festival Hall for a drink or two, coinciding with the crowd emptying out from the George Clinton gig. Apparently, he played for three hours, which starts to get beyond the point when you do get bored, doesn't it? Better to watch a great live show and come away wanting more than to start getting fidgety and bored, I reckon. That kind of thing is enough to put you off a band for life (though it's exactly what I'd expected from George Clinton)!
Shortly after that, the bar got insanely busy and then some band started doing some kind of funk rock jamming on a small stage in the RFH ballroom. We weren't sure if it was Clinton's band still going on while he signed stuff (which he was doing somewhere), or another band entirely, all we knew is that they were way too loud to talk over -- and certainly no Tunng! With the bar still heaving, and the RFH definitely not emptying out even though it was past 11:00pm, we decided to head up to the fifth floor balcony bar, where it would be quieter and we could chat. This led to a funny moment in the lift when we found ourselves trapped in there with half of Tunng and their families as the lift stopped on various floors that nobody had requested. Eventually, we made it to the fifth floor, only to find that both bar and balcony had closed, and the only reason to be up there was if you had a pass into the backstage party in the fifth floor function room. Obviously, we didn't.
However, there were a row of empty seats along the nearby wall, so we perched on a couple of those and continued our conversation, every now and again peering up to see who was coming or going from the function room. Nobody famous, because they were already inside, but all the faces were interesting, if you like that sort of thing, which I do. It was fascinating to watch the body language of hangers-on, as they swaggered past trying to imply they were cooler than we were just because they had a guest pass and we didn't. Both of us surmised that inside, past the partitions, there was probably just a couple of tables with some drinks and some hors d'oeuvres, a flashy light rig, and people standing around chatting. Still, since a party is all about the people who attend, I can't help but be a bit curious to know what Tunng and George Clinton talked about!
We finally left the RFH a while after midnight, and the main bar was still in full-swing, which was a surprise, because I had no idea it was even open that late. Finished off the night with a walk over the eastern Golden Jubilee Bridge, reminiscing about how much we miss the grimy old Hungerford Bridge with its holey concrete, its narrowness, its closer proximity to Charing Cross railway bridge and the noisiness of the trains rattling past. I like the new Jubilee bridges -- I especially like the way they've opened up the westbound view towards Battersea -- but, yeah, I miss the old grimy Hungerford Bridge (which I can't find any photos of for visual comparison). It's kind of hard to explain to anyone who doesn't remember what it was like, or who never had any affection for it, but in a way, it felt like it was mine, much more than the new bridges do. Perhaps because it was one of the first places in central London that I got to know on my own, by my own choice as an adolescent, beyond my own neighbourhood, and it was always my favourite view of London. Like I said, hard to explain.
Anyway, all in all, a fantastic night. One of the best of the year, and I'm predicting this will definitely turn up in my top three gigs at the end of the year4. Although, there's still six months left to decide. Next up? Hopefully Lovebox on the Sunday, if anyone else is interested in joining us.
1In case anyone is interested, my top bands as most played on iTunes/iPod are probably: Tunng, the Broken Family Band, the bird and the bee, Camera Obscura, and Will Oldham, although my LastFM profile says different. It's a bit hard to work it out for sure, given that I recently got a new laptop, and given that I listen to a lot of compilations, so it's also basically a judgement call of what I've been listening to most lately. Maybe I ought to start scrobbling again...
2"Cherry, straw-berry, knickerbocker glory" being one example. "Sock it to me!" also being rather popular.
3See footnotes5 in my last review for my opinions about this. Personally, I think that playing rustly percussion with a packet of sweets is much more interesting, and therefore inherently cooler, than merely clapping along when someone tells you to.
3Prior to Saturday night, my top gig of the year was Kode9 at the Museum of Garden History, which I didn't get to review 'cos I went to it when my old iBook died, but which was fucking awesome.
5Yes, I like footnotes. Apparently I get this from my granny.
current music: Various: Bearded Ladies Vol.1
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(4 comments | comment on this)
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| Tuesday, June 24th, 2008
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10:51 pm - mondo twitters
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| Monday, June 23rd, 2008
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10:21 pm - mondo twitters
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| Sunday, June 22nd, 2008
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10:08 pm - mondo twitters
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| Saturday, June 21st, 2008
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10:11 pm - mondo twitters
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5:52 pm - WORD.
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"I'm a big devotee of design history. I learn a lot from the past and I am a futurist. Any good futurist is a historian." --Bruce Sterling
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(comment on this)
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5:21 pm - Meltdown mojo
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This is only a partial review of this year's Meltdown because I still haven't even seen my third selection -- I'm off to that with woolly later tonight, but in the meantime, have a couple of reviews of the other two events I went to.
Tuesday night's orchestral rendition of the Bladerunner soundtrack, played by the Heritage Orchestra and mixed by Massive Attack themselves, was, I have to admit, a little disappointing. Firstly because, despite ongoing twitterings between several people, I still didn't succeed in meeting up with Jones and Chris, which just proves, as far as the latter is concerned, that I am in fact the world's most rubbish stalker (to rehash an old in-joke). I did, at least, manage to offload my spare ticket onto billyabbot, so at least I had some company and wasn't there all on my lonesome.
The second disappointment was the actual sound of the concert itself. I suspect this had a lot to do with the fact that, having only managed to secure the very last available tickets, we were right at the very back of the auditorium, miles from the stage.The performers were all extremely tight throughout the entire show but, because we were so far from the stage, for much of the time it felt a bit like we were listening to it on a CD. I suppose that also had a lot to do with the fact that Massive Attack themselves were mixing the sound, and they are big fans of slick production. I'm a fan of it myself, in the case of listening to their music at home, but when a live performance sounds over-produced, I find myself waiting for someone to just hit one bum note, to prove to me that there is in fact a human performing on stage. I suppose the original music itself is pretty over-produced, given that Vangelis is a huge fan of that sort of sound as well, so it was, after all, what people were expecting -- myself included.
My main problem with the sound was that, way at the back of the auditorium, it just wasn't loud enough. It's not that the sound wasn't crystal clear, but it didn't have the volume I wanted. When I go to hear live music, I don't want to be deafened and come home with ears that ring for days afterwards, but I do want the music to be loud enough that it forces me to switch off my internal dialogue for a while, just to focus on the music itself1. This didn't happen on Tuesday night until the final piece of music, which built up to a spectacular crescendo and was pretty flippin' awesome. That alone made the night worthwhile, as did the three vocal pieces. Guy Garvey's loose jazz number had people shuffling in their seats more than anything else in the set, and Vashti Bunyan sang a beautiful soprano number, but it was Omar Ebrahim's chant that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and finally gave me the connection with the performance that I'd been looking for. It was just a pity that it came too close to the end.
I'm still glad I went, and I did enjoy it -- I just wish that I didn't come away from shows at the Royal Festival Hall feeling disappointed with the sound each time I go. (Last time I went, the sound was so bad that the bass drum made the air conditioning units rattle above our heads. Considering the fortune they'd just spent on refurbishing the concert hall, you'd think the sound would not be so awful all the time!)
Bladerunner-esque photo by latigi, posted under a CC licence
Last night I was at the Queen Elizabeth Hall, which I actually prefer to the Royal Festival Hall because it's smaller and the seats are more comfortable. I was three rows from the stage and had a really good view2 of the bands. I was a bit disappointed to be going alone, because no one took my spare ticket, but you know what? It was your loss (yes, you) because the show was really good. I was in a pretty bad mood before I got there, feeling depressed for a number of reasons: the crappy weather; lack of appetite (a sure sign I'm not doing too well); overtired due to the accidental all-nighter earlier in the week; and the fact that, once again, I was forced into attending something on my own because nobody wanted to be there to share it with me (this happens way too much, considering how many people I know). In fact, I was in such a bad mood I almost didn't leave the house, but I forced myself to because wasting £22.50 on one unused ticket was bad enough, but wasting twice that amount would have been stupid. It also meant that I was really relying on the music to prove it was worthwhile to have left the house, which meant I really needed it to lift me up out of my terrible mood, and I wasn't disappointed, because both bands totally delivered.
Being in a bad mood also meant I was a tough audience to impress, especially watching a completely unknown act like Aloe Blacc. The band came onstage one at a time, as their instrument was needed, starting with the drummer, followed by the keyboard player, bassist, and finally Aloe Blacc himself. They played a good mix of soul, jazz, Latin, reggae, dancehall and hip-hop, melded into one big funky mix of party sounds, including a "very loose-limbed" (to quote the chap sitting behind me) cover of The Police's Walking On The Moon. They also played a few ballads which were a bit on the syrupy side for my tastes, but were a good demonstration of Blacc's smooth voice. It was his upbeat party numbers that really put a smile on my face, though, which got even wider when I spotted 3D and Daddy G from Massive attack sloping into seats in the front row3. As soon as they sat down, they started nodding along to the music, and during one of the particularly upbeat numbers, 3D could barely be contained, rocking away in his seat like it was vibrating, clearly having a great time, which was really nice to see. I know that they both picked all the acts that were playing the festival, but it was still good to see how much they actually appreciated the music as well. Daddy G stayed cooler, restraining himself to head-nodding and clapping along in time4.
After a short interval (where I was glad to have remembered to bring a book along), Terry Callier came on stage with his guitar and a full complement of musicians: another guitarist, a bassist, a guy on keyboards, a woodwind player, one regular drummer, and one multi-instrumental percussionist. They were fairly typical session muso types, but incredibly tight because they all regularly work together as a band, so they had that understanding between them that you get when you've all been playing together for a while. This didn't stop them all from having the occasional ego-fest, where they would try to wrest attention away from their fellow-band members. This is of course typical in jazz, where every musician will try to get his solo moment, and most of the time the rest of the band will give them their due, but it didn't always seem to be the case here. Not that it wasn't good-natured, though.
The funniest moment was when the Latin percussionist, Bosco De Oliveira, totally wigged-out on the conga drums for ages, accompanied only by the electric piano playing the same little piano roll over and over. I'd been watching the pianist, Chris Kibble, quite a lot because he was really good, playing with incredible dexterity, but was always watching his own fingers during the more complicated pieces. This particular piece was just a small repetition, and obviously so familiar that he didn't even bother to look at his keys, he just kept peering over to the far side of the stage, watching for some cue from the percussionist to tell him when to drop back into the regular melody. I was watching the pianist's face, and at first you tell by his grin that he was amused at his compadre's actions, but then you could see that he was starting to get a little irritated. He even stood up at one point, but the other guy was so far into his conga rhythms that he didn't notice anything else. All the while, Terry Callier was just nodding his head, lost in the groove as well.
That happened quite a lot during the set. It might have been Terry Callier that everyone had come to see, but he's not an egotistical musician who hogs the limelight; he's someone who will give everyone else their due and step back to let them share some glory, and he was really making the most of having the support of a full band behind him. He's actually one of the most modest and humble performers working the circuit; he always seems so diffident when onstage, as though he's a bit surprised that so many people could possibly be there to see him. And then he opens his mouth to sing, and you know that he could hold the entire set on that voice alone, and not only would the audience sit enraptured, but he would have the vocal confidence to carry it off. This was ably demonstrated with a stripped down version of Love Theme From Spartacus, one of only four songs I recognised. The others were a rousing and righteous performance of Lazarus Man, and two songs for his encore. One was a lovely cover of The Beatles' And I Love Her which I didn't recognise at first because the arrangement was so distinctly Callier's that I initially thought it was one of his own songs. He finished with a great performance of Ordinary Joe, which I'd always thought was his most well-known song, but when he asked the audience to sing the chorus, it seemed like hardly anyone was. I was certainly the only one in my section of the seats, and only because I'd already been singing along, "from the opening line..."
photo of Terry Callier and his band by La Tête Krançien, posted under a CC licence
In the end, it really didn't matter that he only played a handful of songs I recognised. Sure, I was disappointed that he didn't play Blues For Marcus or Can't Catch The Trane or Holding On For Your Love, or even any of the requests that the audience shouted for (Dancing Girl and 900 Miles being the two I would have liked to hear), but regardless of that I still had a great time. Judging from the noisy reaction at the end, and two standing ovations, so did most of the audience (except for the woman sitting next to me, who kept looking at her watch). So you see, it was your loss that you missed out. Yes, you.
Already buzzing from a brilliantly uplifting show, I got another smile on my face when I bumped into annie mole of Going Underground as we were both walking out of the door at the same time, so I had someone else to share my buzz with. She and her friends were going for a drink on the Festival Hall terrace, so I tagged along. It took us forever to get served because we kept missing the eye of the bartenders, due to being so busy chatting and laughing. Either that, or the service at that bar is just very slow. The funny thing is that, if we hadn't both gone along to the giant Flickrmeet last Saturday, I'm not sure I'd even have recognised her, even though we'd met a couple of times last year. Had I we not talked last weekend, I probably wouldn't have said hello to her 'cos even if I had recognised her, I would have thought that she probably wouldn't have recognised me, but I'm glad I did because it was a really nice end to a really good night, so yay Flickr! And yay music!
My final Yay! Music! moment came as I was heading to Waterloo Bridge to catch my bus, and passed the lobby windows of the Queen Elizabeth Hall, which was full of people dancing at Silent Disco. It wasn't actually all that silent, though, because people were cheering the musical selections. I wanted to stay and watch a little bit, but it felt a bit voyeuristic, and I thought that people inside might resent being made to feel like they were in a goldfish-bowl, so I left. They were all clearly having a great time, though.
I can't wait to see Tunng tonight, especially now I know how good the seats are.
1It didn't help that I was finding my own internal dialogue really annoying! Don't you hate it when that happens?
2In fact, I have almost exactly the same seats tonight (29-30 instead of 31-32), but they were £7.50 cheaper. What's up with that? Why is a ticket to see Tunng only £15 and a ticket to see Terry Callier £22.50 when the view is exactly the same?
3I also spotted Daddy G on the stairs on the way out of Tuesday's show, in fact I almost walked smack into him because I was chatting to billyabbot and following the flow of people, not expecting someone to be standing just there, least of all for it to be someone famous. I managed to avoid being a gushing fangirl because, well, I don't really do the gushing fangirl thing, and it would have been way uncool to start in front of that crowd. But I got quite excited, as billyabbot will attest.
4Which is something I never do, myself actually. You know when you go to a gig and someone on stage exhorts the audience to clap along? I hate doing that. I will sometimes do it spontaneously, but there's something about being a whole crowd of people clapping along because someone else has told you to that I find really grating.
current music: The JBs: Pass The Peas
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(comment on this)
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| Friday, June 20th, 2008
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10:14 pm - mondo twitters
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| Thursday, June 19th, 2008
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10:48 pm - mondo twitters
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6:42 pm - weird iTunes algorythm thing -- help?
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My iTunes app is being really weird on when I use it on shuffle at the moment -- I have nearly 5gb of tracks on it (about 1240) but it still keeps bringing up the same ones, even only half an hour after wanting to play something. Does anyone know why this is?
I've had my finger on the bloody arrow keys half the day, in order to skip songs that have already been played today. Which is a bit annoying for the randomness factor of using shuffle, or indeed getting much useful done (which was already in jeopardy due to having pulled an all-nighter making a birthday present which still isn't finished but is, almost).
Has anyone else had this problem?
current mood: puzzled and a bit annoyed
current music: not iTunes!
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(5 comments | comment on this)
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| Wednesday, June 18th, 2008
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10:32 pm - mondo twitters
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| Tuesday, June 17th, 2008
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10:34 pm - mondo twitters
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