Some Album Reviews

I have three in my backlog (and lots of new albums I want to review!). They date back a bit but oh well!

The Dead Weather - Sea Of Cowards
The second album from The Dead Weather, Jack White’s second Other Band, in just 10 months is a different beast altogether from their debut. Although White’s blues influences are ever-present, the White Stripes feel of Horehound is out, Sea of Cowards is experimental rock in a league of its own. Delicious electric guitar-driven chills, edgy lyrics and haunting chants by Kills’ singer Alison Mosshart transport you into an eerie world of White’s own creation.
****

Jack Johnson - To The Sea
The sixth instalment from Jack Johnson mercifully shows some break from the norm. After 5 albums of surf-style crooning over acoustic guitar, Johnson has finally discovered its electric sister instrument. In You And Your Heart, we find him riffing out a harsher intro than we’ve encountered before, and the verses even reveal a little rock-star posturing, although the chorus, and much of the album, is cut from the original mould.
***

The Drums - The Drums
In places strongly reminiscent of early New Order, in others featuring traces of the Beach Boys, New Yorkers The Drums’ first album reverts to old-style indie. Although the chirpy, whistle-strewn Let’s Go Surfing tempts the listener to assume them to be beach-pop, elsewhere, in It Will All End In Tears, there is real anguish. Nevertheless the whiny and less-than-outstanding vocals by Jonathan Pierce have the tendency to grate in places.
****

~*~ Glastonbury 2010 ~ Sunday 27th June ~*~

It was the last day of Glastonbury, and I had yet to wear the cape I made specially for the weekend, thinking that it would fulfil the two functions of looking fun and keeping me warm. The entire weekend was sizzlingly hot, without a cloud in the sky. So on Sunday I decided that I would risk being cooked and wore my cape for the first time. This was an Awesome Plan, as I have discovered that you are never alone in a colourful cape. Especially with multicoloured feathers around the collar. The world likes to come up and tell you that you are wearing an Awesome Cape and that this is Awesome and "Wow did you MAKE it?! You are Awesome." Teehee.

As tradition and necessity demanded, we went to the Tiny Tea Tent, where, although teabags and hot water are available anywhere, you get the BEST tea, for tea out of a mug is infinitely superior to tea out of a cardboard cup. Trust. The tiffin was also fantastic. This year the brownie oven was shaped like a pig (last year's was a pregnant ogre-lady = "Newly Born Brownies"). He had very impressive tusks for a mud creature.

Between tea and *Paloma Faith*, the others, lazy beggars, all went and lay down by the sacred circle, so I wandered around the Green Fields and Kids Area, which had a pirate ship with a PURPLE COW on the mast. This was genius. Should I ever captain my own vessel, I too shall have a brightly coloured creature leading me across the ocean. A magenta hedgehog perhaps, or a turquoise duck-billed platypus.

Paloma Faith was fabfabfab. Although her set started early, which meant that we heard tantalising strains of Stone Cold Sober drift out towards us as we sped towards the Pyramid Stage. I'd been worried that her very individual voice wouldn't come across as well in a live setting as in the studio, but these fears were unnecessary. The notes that came out of her (HUGE) mouth were clear and beautiful. Her costume was very imaginative too - clad in a white, jewel-encrusted catsuit, two enormous white balloons hung above her shoulders. She had to maneouvre these every time she wanted to walk across the stage in the other direction, but as an ex-magician's assistant I'm sure she's done worse. She put on a real show. I wasn't sure about the rock 'n' roll version of Do You Want The Truth Or Something Beautiful?, but it sounded good despite the oddity.

As there wasn't anything particular I wished to see before Keane, I headed over to get a good spot in the tent. There was a really good folk trio on two acts before - Adrian Edmonson and The Bad Shepherds, whose rendition of Once In A Lifetime was a definite stand-out. This is when I made a momentous discovery. I saw bagpipes being played on stage, and wasn't clutching my ears to block out the heinous sound. Upon questioning my neighbour, I was informed that these were electric bagpipes. WHY isn't EVERYONE playing these? Why do they subject us to the original instrument when the same thing, electrified, produces such a lovely noise? They should be imposed by law.

Teddy Thompson, who played at the Warchild gig Keane hosted back in 2007, was also very good, although very hard on himself: "Why are you all here?" "To see you!" "Fools. Right, let's get this over with quickly." And, later on: "This is from my new record, it's just made-up stuff." But his voice is very clear and moving, the songs, despite his self-deprecation, were great, with a very effective singalong and a particularly pragmatic love song. Unfortunately for him, a Mr Tom Chaplin made an appearance at the back of the stage to watch the show, drawing the gaze of the entire front row, who were undeniably there for the next act.

And for ONCE I was one of them! Eighth time lucky, I was front row. Madness. But their performance was absolutely fantastic. It was a simple accoustic set, beautifully relaxed. You Don't See Me soared, Spiralling and Stop For A Minute were as bouncy and fun as ever, and even an unplugged version of Is It Any Wonder? had me jumping (although, I'll admit, it doesn't take much). The use of guitar in Bedshaped, the closer, was interesting but worked. And I love that it's still the last song - take THAT strange anti-Bedshaped Keane fans! :P We noticed that yet again they missed out the most controversial lyrics in Clear Skies, which they used to do with Perfect Symmetry (they clearly felt that 'spineless dreamers hide in churches' was a little bold for them) so I wonder if these lyrics will start featuring any time soon.

I was disappointed by Jack Johnson. Many people rave about his live performance. For me, he failed to graduate beyond easygoing background music. Leah and I sat on a rug scoffing toffee yoghurt, and felt zero compulsion to stand up and watch.

MGMT were yet another disappointment. I think Keane may have spoilt me with the passion they put into their live show, but with these guys it felt like there was no passion at all. Everything was played technically well, but it was all wooden. The singing was very quiet as well. Of course, the accoustics of the Other Stage are particularly bad, but good bands overcome this, and MGMT did not. What little they did say was less than inspiring: "We love this festival because it's great." "It's an honour to play to a million gajillion people." Wow.

Now STEVIE on the other hand was beyond mindblowing. Live, his music is one big party, and I could not stop dancing. Admittedly the American cheese speeches still featured - "relationshit" and various magic stories. I stood through a whole episode of him pretending to drink a goblet of potion that would restore his youth with the thought: 'This HAS to lead into I Wish' tiding me through. It didn't. I felt betrayed!! The band were very tight - a bunch of extremely talented musicians in their own right, and his voice is as crystal clear and powerful as you could imagine.

He came on with a keytar, and did a bit of rockstar posturing, including on the floor, which was initially impressive but a little worrying as he struggled to get up again - maybe a bit over-ambitious for a sixty year old. Sir Duke and Superstition were both wonderful, but I would say that Masterblaster was my favourite of the evening, with its irresistible summery groove. He closed with Happy Birthday, dragging an embarassed Michael Eavis to the front of the stage and getting him to sing along to celebrate Glastonbury's 40 years.

A brilliant end to a brilliant festival. Bring on next year!

~*~ Glastonbury 2010 ~ Saturday 26th June ~*~

I couldn't resist. Two Door Cinema Club were playing again, on the Other Stage, so I dragged everyone along with me to see them. They were even better in the sunshine, because their breezy summery pop fitted perfectly.

I then headed up the hill to The Park, to see Here We Go Magic, because I'd heard rumblings about them from various music sources and, let's be honest, I like the name. The five-piece produced decent rock music with lovely twiddly guitar bits and atmospheric keyboards. The vocals were a little bit too shouty for me at times but they were mostly good, and I enjoyed the use of chanting. There were some particularly entrancing guitar melodies.

I didn't stay for the end of the set. Instead I wandered over to the Pyramid Stage. With unusually impeccable timing I reached the Other Stage just as Reef started playing Place Your Hands (the only song of theirs anybody knows), which sounded fantastic. And, equally impeccably, it finished as I reached the end of the field. I stayed at the Pyramid for my favourite Lightning Seeds songs - Change and Lucky You, both of which suited the sunny weather beautifully, with vocals as good live as in the studio, and I heard a lovely accoustic version of Marvellous. Speeding off the the cinema tent, I joined up with Kara and Jon for How To Train Your Dragon, which we all loved, the dragon was particularly adorable. Admittedly we were the biggest "kids" there, but I had to make the most of my last month as a teenager, didn't I?! (what's your excuse, Special K?! :P)

Pilton Pasta proved as reliable a lunch as usual, and I had to take on carbs to survive what was to be an evening that can only be described as EPIC.

I exploited Seasick Steve's remarkable set (I have never heard such amazing riffs resonate from two Morris Minor hubcaps welded around a broom handle) to a shameful degree, landing myself a spot centre stage, second row, for one of the bands I was most looking forward to seeing, The Dead Weather.

Now, I could expound the wonders of Jack White's "other other band" (as Q mag so succinctly labelled them) until Jack Johnson truly learnt what an electric guitar was for, (ah the beauty of eternity), but for now I'll stick to a brief live review. "W-O-W." OK, maybe a little more than that. In an album review I did for the student mag that, life being what it is, I have as yet failed to post here, I described their second album as something along the lines of "delicious guitar-driven chills pulsing down your spine", but possibly more biologically accurate. ANYway, their live set is mindblowing. I didn't know whether to stand frozen with awe (complete with slack jaw) or leap around in a wild and decidedly pagan fashion. In the end, I settled on a combination of the two.

Each of the four members of The Dead Weather is an incredibly talented individual. I have now seen *JACK WHITE* jamming on electric guitar (yes, he emerged from behind the drumkit) which made my SUMMER. Alison Mosshart, beautiful, sparrow-framed and completely off her rocker, was rarely vertical when she wasn't singing in her smokey, husky and oh-so-enviably-cool voice. And the Other Two, who both have very interesting names which, if it wasn't so late at night, I would totally have the decency to look up on the internet, were also very worth watching. And they gelled perfectly. I repeat: "W-O-W."

Now, the next act in the evening's line-up was the one I was least sure about. Dead Weather? YES. Scissor Sisters? YES. MUSE? HELLS YEAH. Shakira? Hmm...

However, despite the gold drape backdrop, the diva in diamonds and feathers that I'd anticipated never showed up, to the huge relief of me and my new friend at the time, who shall henceforth be known as Gay Simon. (this nickname is not intended to show homophobia by its means of distinction, I just believe that anyone wearing pink heart-shaped sunglasses, a flame-covered cowboy hat and a hot pink t-shirt saying: 'I think I might be gay', and proclaiming his love for Jake Shears not only merits the epithet, but desires it). As Glasto friends go (you know, the people around you who magically become your friends when the actual people you're sharing a camp with inexplicably don't feel the need to see Tim Rice-Oxley/Jack White/Emily Haines at close quarters) he was fantastic. We had a 'Shakira Fears Support Group', held a heated 'Dan Gillespie-Sells/Jake Shears' debate and so forth. Wonderful.

Anyway, Shakira came on wearing, a surprise to all present in the Pyramid Field, a t-shirt and jeans. Yes, there was a shiny metal skirt thingamajig for the belly-dancing (good, but no match for Femi Kuti's girls) but that was more of a Special Guest slot. What Shakira is incredibly good at is reminding you why Spanish is Sexy. The typical British reaction to songs in Foreign Tongues didn't make even a ghost appearance, it was definitely an 'I wish I could speak Spanish' affair. She was down to earth and smiley, and most importantly determinedly Columbian. Gay Simon and I had a fantastic time dancing to She Wolf and Hips Don't Lie. A very pleasant surprise.

Of course, Scissor Sisters blew most other acts out of the water. Having seen them back in 2006 in a cowbarn, I had hiiiiiiiigh expectations, and they didn't fail me one little bit. Of course, being from Across The Pond, you have to wade through rivers of melted cheese as they tell various stories of their various experiences of various places, but Jake's dedication of a song to his new fiancé was truly touching (although Gay Simon's heart was apparently broken). The wonderful thing about their set is that noone can resist dancing to them. It does not matter that you don't have enough space to swing a flea, you WILL dance to I Don't Feel Like Dancin' to Appreciate The Irony. Kylie fitted in as if she'd been a founding member, and the new single, Fire With Fire, not a favourite with everyone (as my mother keeps reminding me) was brilliant live. Raunchy and superbly-costumed, the Scissor Sisters burn a welcome imprint into your brain.

Right, the first thing I need to say about Muse is that I have never been so crushed in my entire life. The only reason my arms weren't pinned to my sides was that there wasn't room for them there. I had 2 different guys' elbows at each cheek, which gave me the horrible idea that if they made certain movements at the same time I may actually experience what it would be like to have the head mobility of an owl. But not for very long. Of the crowd I was talking to before the gig, I was the only one to survive. People were dropping like flies. I didn't see a huge amount of stage during Supermassive Black Hole. I was busy being kicked in the head by people being security-lifted out of the crowd.

Despite ALL THIS, it was a fantastic set. The music sounds like it has come from another dimension, it soars and swells and removes you from your earthly setting. Which was fortunate. Matt Bellamy, who is famed for being 'a little bit out of it' isn't a traditional frontman. Straightforward audience interaction is minimal, and rarely does his voice come through the mic other than in the context of a song. But the raw power the three of them generated was enough to finish off an amazing Glastonbury day. The megaphone + microphone combination of Feeling Good was intriguing, the honeycomb digital backdrop was mesmerising, and the Edge's slot as Special Guest was a real Moment. All this made the fact that I had to stand under a tap afterwards undeniably worth it.