If you can get over the unashamedly prosaic title of this newly released compilation by The Undertones, it’s a fine set of tunes. Â This is the third Undertones ‘Best Of’ compilation to have adopted the title of their debut single, and best known song, ‘Teenage Kicks’. Â The difference is…this time it’s The Very Best Of. Â I assume that’s because not only does it have 20 songs on, but also the videos to ‘Teenage Kicks’ and ‘My Perfect Cousin’, both of which feature some fine knitwear.
Category Archives: Reviews
Crystal Castles + HEALTH, Leeds Met, 23rd October 2010
I hadn’t realised how popular Crystal Castles have become. Â I haven’t got their second album and have missed what I can only assume has been a huge furore surrounding them since the release of their debut in 2009. Â Last night’s gig at Leeds Met was a sell out, and the kids were loving it. Â [I can now legitimately refer to such gig-goers as kids as I believe I am now scientifically old enough to have fathered a child the same age as at least half of last night’s audience. Â This fact is reassuring rather than alarming, as it evidences my belief that I’m still ‘cool’ (although use of that 20th century word may betray me) and have not yet succumbed to the type of ‘safe’ dad music someone of my age might start realising is going to see my happily to my retirement.]
HEALTH, Leeds Met, 23rd October 2010
This tour isn’t the first time Crystal Castles and HEALTH have been mentioned by me in the same breath, as I have played previous musical collaborations by them in my show.  I had thus far failed to see HEALTH and having heard they were marvellous live, I was not disappointed.  They were quite brilliant and I was left wondering whether Crystal Castles may have made an error by being supported by a band so good.  The charismatic bass player was centre stage, being as he was  the most visually entertaining member of the band.  I was actually surprised by how organic their line-up was.  There was a fair amount of synthetic effects, but largely their sound was comprised of guitars, bass, drums, more drums, and vocals.  Their whole set was an onslaught of confident, articulate, tightly knitted noise, and the highlights were Die Slow and USA Boys.
The between-band downtime, prolonged due to the malfunction of either an XLR or a DI box on stage, wasn’t the usual painful wait, for me at least. Â The soundman had a penchant for Elliott Smith, so I got to hear all of Elliott Smith and half of Either Or during the wait.
Crystal Castles, Leeds Met, 23rd October 2010
My paternal concerns about whether Crystal Castles may find themselves upstaged by HEALTH proved unnecessary. Â They started with (I assume) a couple of tunes from Crystal Castles (II) and the youth were going crazy, lapping it up. Â The sound was quite immense – deep, full-on electronics, piercing vocals and live drums. Â Couple their aural onslaught with the visual element of the live experience, and it was a performance I really could not find fault with. Â The heavy use of backlit strobes, against an otherwise mostly dark stage, with Alice Glass’s onstage athleticism, and they are quite a proposition. Â Quite a brilliant night.
External references:
Crystal Castles – crystalcastles.com
HEALTH – www.healthnoise.com
NIck Pickles music photographer – www.music-photographer.co.uk
Leeds Festival Review: Day 3
Finally, the review is complete. And so to bed…
That wind has got up again. Â In fact, there would appear to be a tornado whipping up around my tent. Â I’m going to take off like Dorothy in the wizard of Oz. Â I wonder if I will land on a witch. Â It really is causing a racket and there’s no way that I’ll be able to get back off to sleep now with that tent flapping about. Â Oh, it’s raining now. Â Goodness, it really is raining rather hard. Â Perhaps the rhythm of the rain will lull me back to sleep…
That's a map of Mordor isn't it.
No, that didn’t work. Â And anyway I need a wee. Â The weather has been very kind to us these last few days, but I suspect that I may finally have to bite the bullet and don the wellies today. Â I struggle into these and hope against hope that on this occasion I won’t be wearing them for long enough for them to stink like they did when I wore them at Glastonbury last year. Â On that occasion the smell was an odd mix of styles – imagine if you would that someone decided to make a speciality cheese out of cow poo. Â It would smell exactly the same as that.
Speaking of cleanliness, I notice on the way to the urine trough that the queue for the showers is not very long.  I know – showers at festival.  We get all the home comforts in the Guest Area you know.  Sadly, there’s all of four showers serving around 400 people, so thus far I’ve not bothered because I didn’t want to miss the entire festival whilst standing in a line to have a wash.  Hmmm, that line hasn’t moved at all.  What to do? I decide to give it a whirl and see how far the queue moves in ten minutes or so.  After the ten minutes have elapsed I’m no nearer the shower, but I’m too stubborn to give up now I’ve started. Continue reading
Grinderman, Leeds University Refectory, 27th September 2010
The aural equivalent to being spat on, support act The Hunter Gracchus subject a bemused audience to 15 minutes of improvised white noise. This consists of electric guitar and violin feedback, a dying saxophone and the old cliché, a wailing woman; if you’re planning on butchering your family with a pick axe and want some appropriate music to do it to, this band is for you.
Leeds Festival Review: Day 2
(Yes, I know, I’m shoving this up on the blog somewhat after the event, but I’m a busy man y’know. Better late than never…)
Bloody hell, it’s windy. Either that or someone has got hold of the outside of my tent and is flapping it about like a Killer Whale with a half dead seal. Maybe it’s them Spam bastards paying me back for nicking their tent pegs. One thing is certain – the noise it is making has rendered any further sleep impossible without tranquilisers. I dare say there’s a fair bit of Ketamine washing around the festival site, but personally I’ll give that a miss if it’s all the same to you.
Horse tranquilizers: it's a race horse called Horlicks, apparently.
I am a parent now and hurtling towards middle-age, so 8am is considered an indulgent lie-in anyway, so I get up and go for breakfast – the details of which started the first blog, so we’ll skip over that. However, before I can go to eat I am refused entry to the festival main area as no one is allowed in until 9am. Eh, do what? The festival closes at night? I thought this was supposed to be a playground of non-stop revelry and no sleep ’til Brooklyn. Now I find that everyone went to bed before me, tucked up with a cup of Horlicks (other revolting bedtime drinks are available).
It occurs to me that I’ve not really had a proper look around the whole site, so I rectify this. There’s not a great deal around other than food stands and stalls selling t-shirts with wanky slogans, although I do spot a place which sells ale as opposed to the rather flimsy Tuborg which is the only other beer available onsite. Sadly, further investigation later in the day reveals the ale to be rather horrid as well. Continue reading
Leeds Festival Review: Day 1
Before me sits the remnants of a full English breakfast, served to me with piping hot hash browns to mask the fact that the rest of it was clap cold. I’ve paid £7.50 for the privilege. I’m just wondering if I’ll manage to be be able to consume my body weight in orange juice from the refillable dispenser before they tell me to shit off. You’ve got to get your five a day somehow, but fruit & veg isn’t especially forthcoming at a festival.
I arrived here yesterday morning intent (and with tent) on having enough time to pitch my canvas Shangri-La before going to catch The Walkmenopening up the Main Stage at Noon. But for a false start where I had to return to my temporary home after being denied entry due to possession of a can of well-known stout (cans not allowed apparently – though I later noticed that the novelty of the power wielded by the “Customer Protection Office” had waned after a few hours and his bag check became somewhat less censorious) and the fact that the splendid New York noiseniks start 8 minutes early for some reason, I’d have pretty much timed it to perfection.
The Walkmen: larger than actually pictured.
Cover up / Selection Box Show 144
A different sort of Moon Delight after being Rammed.
A couple of weeks ago my best chum described me as a “Paul McCartney aficionado”, which is certainly not something I would say was true at all. I do think he used to look like my mum, but I don’t think that counts and my mum probably wouldn’t be chuffed (although if I was told I looked like someone handsome enough to trap off with the young Jane Asher I’d probably be delighted). I am, however, one of those few people whose answer to the query of favourite Beatle would be answered with positive messages for the unidexter-divorcing vegetarian former mullet-sporter. Whilst I could never for a moment defend the sheer horror of the likes of Ebony & Ivory, That Fecking Frog Song With Ruperb The Bear In The Videoor even the ineffective hey-let’s-all-be-nice-to-one-another-man anti-war lamery of Pipes of Peace, McCartney seems to be largely overshadowed by the beautiful corpse of his probably-an-awful-twat-in-real-life mate and his over-bearing political conscience. Yeah, stay in bed for peace, John, that’ll work. Thanks for that. You’ve been a massive help. Continue reading
How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Lonnie Donegan
I have a theory which, like most of my theories, probably doesn’t stand up to close inspection, that those of us born in the early seventies were the first generation whose parents had cool record collections. My early years, like many of my contemporaries, were soundtracked by Elvis, Jerry Lee, Eddie, Gene, Fats, Chuck and countless twangy guitar expositions from the likes of Link Wray and Duane Eddy.
Because of this, I retain a dedicated affection for the music of the late fifties to this day, but there was always one name that baffled me.
My dad and his mates would speak in hushed and reverent tones about the first time they heard Lonnie Donegan. Added to this, when I later began to nurture a youthful obsession with the music of the 1960’s, I read that my fave raves (Beatles, Stones, Animals and so on) were all inspired to take their first tentative steps into the world of music by this diminutive Glasgow Irish Cockney with the curiously whiny voice.
I mean, I liked “Rock Island Line” but what kind of hunched,self loathing carapace of humanity doesn’t like that? Continue reading
Glastonbury 2010…..
tUnE-yArDs, the brainchild of the clearly unhinged but super-talented Merrill Garbus, opened my Glastonbury 2010 (Rolf Harris doing ‘Stairway To Heaven’ doesn’t count) on the West Holt Stage early on Friday afternoon, with a set of songs from debut album ‘Bird-Brains’. In contrast to the lo-fi sound of the album, recorded solely by Garbus using a sound recorder, a full band complete with 3 drummers, including Garbus herself, meant that the tribal energy of the songs broke through. Driven by a kind of afro-beat rhythm that builds and builds on top of Garbus’ distinctive chanting and yodelling, this all came together to form a sound that’s brilliantly smart and stupidly brilliant, exemplified in ‘Sunlight’.
Rivaling Liam Gallagher in terms of misplaced arrogance, Continue reading
ATP Festival curated by Matt Groening – Day 2
Saturday begins with two hours of 70’s kids cartoon Hong Kong Phooey on the excellent ATP TV channel provided for the weekend. Refreshed by the antics of the titular kung fu practicing canine, we venture forth into the unknown. [I ventured forth a little earlier than the others and caught Hello Saferide, in Reds. I was rather impressed by her Swedish knack of finding a good tune, and sentimental lyrics. Ed]
Hello Saferide - melodic romanticism
Between the four of us (me, Albert, Simon and Jim) we can conjure up little previous knowledge of Boredoms despite the fact that they appear to have been going since about 1942 and have released about half a million records. The notes about them printed in the frankly beautiful programmes (coming with 4 different covers featuring Matt Groening penned caricatures of Iggy, Joanna Newsome, Daniel Johnston and someone we didn’t recognise [either She & Him or Lightning Dust, the jury is still out – ed]) weren’t much help either. In this we simply read a breathless treatise about Boredoms being Japanese, having a penchant for using lots of drummers, and being a bit ace.