REVIEW: Twin Atlantic at Islington Academy, 29 November 2011

Ah Islington Academy, the only music venue in a shopping centre. That’s where we were on Tuesday to catch Twin Atlantic on the second date of the Free-Ze Tour.

It’s been quite a while since I saw a really good opening act and I have to say that Tuesday’s gig did little to end the drought.

We arrived just after the start of Arcane Roots’ set to find them heartily attempting to be Biffy Clyro. Unfortunately Biffy Clyro are already Biffy Clyro and they’re quite good at being Biffy Clyro. Arcane Roots, just aren’t and the strange little wanders into Incubus didn’t help much either. I might be wrong since a fair junk of the audience seemed to be loving them. I just wasn’t.

We then got Dinosaur Pile-Up attempting to be Weezer. It was quite fun to start out with but after three songs we realised that every single one of their songs sounded identical and had blurred into one endless whinge, with properly adolescent lyrics. They weren’t horrible – I just don’t think I’d care if I never heard them again.

This is the first time I’ve seen Twin Atlantic really touring Free hard and I have to say it was encouraging. There’s a new confidence in their delivery and they appear almost to have “relaxed”. This could have translated badly, because you never want to hear that a band has lost its edge, but this is more of a case of them feeling more comfortable in their own skins. The new stuff has more polish and while Vivarium and earlier offerings were laudable in their aggression, the band is definitely growing up. It did make me smile that the audience seemed most excited by the early tracks, showing that they’ve been loyal. In the past the band has been openly derisive about London audiences but it seems the endless moshing, massive sing-alongs and on-cue crowd surfing might just have changed their minds. Long may Sam McTrusty leave London venues with a smile on his face… now if he could just remember all the words. Go and see Twin Atlantic. You will like them. I promise.

REVIEW: Bark! at Tamesis Dock

It’s not every night you get to go to a gig on a boat but Thursday night was one of those nights, as I was lucky enough to get an invitation to Bark! Bark! is a regular music night hosted by a collection of likely young chaps and chapettes who like noise, beer… and it seems boats. This round of Bark! takes place at Tamesis Dock a moored boat between Vauxhall and Lambeth Bridges. And if you’re ever looking for it, trust me you can’t miss it. It’s all done up in fairy lights like a Christmas tree.

The venue is not without its charms. The upper deck boasts an awesome view of the river and the wildly eclectic décor inside is a talking point on its own. Not that we’re forced to talk about the décor since there’s some rather good music on offer.

First up are the folk stylings of Alistair MacKenzie accompanied by Ben Edgington. It is instantly obvious that MacKenzie is a bit special. His voice is soulful, rich and unusual – somewhat reminiscent of Scott Hutchinson. Both play acoustic guitar but MacKenzie is particularly animated when he picks up his banjo and there are feet tapping along throughout. I particularly like The Mess We’re In, a frank song about unrequited love and the cruelties of karma.  You can download a little free EP from his website now, so get on it.

Next up is Exiles, a magnificently noisy trio of Southend lads full of grungy aggression and political lyrics. There is something very sincere and real about them and they’re perfect for the rough and ready “homemade” vibe of Bark! The entire set is played with the aforementioned Ben Edginton lying on the floor with his feet up against the drum kit to stop it from skidding across the floor due to the odd angle that the boat has grounded itself at. And we’re all treated to handmade copies of an Exiles single with a masking tape title. It must be mentioned that one member of the audience becomes so caught up in the set that he swings from the rafters and snogs my husband. When I chat to bassist, Rob Glenister, about this over a smoke on the deck, he says, “I always knew we were a band that could make things happen.” He might just be right.

We slip out while the tunes are still going. The CD decks have fallen through and Sam Bowcher is frenetically DJing off an array of iPods and phones collected from the audience. It works surprisingly well because he’s playing the music that everyone in attendance loves.

I leave hoping that the next Bark! is soon. I can’t wait to see what the venue will be.

REVIEW: Wireless Festival @ Hyde Park, 3 July 2011

There is no way I can do a review of the third day of the Wireless Festival without mentioning the insane queue that we all faced to get in. I understand that it’s important to check what people are bringing into a festival but the level of searching going on could have given an airport a run for its money and considering that half the festival was off its tits on various narcotics and there were glass vodka bottles on the ground, I don’t necessarily think it worked that well.

After an hour and a half of waiting we eventually got in at about five, which meant that we missed Metronomy but caught half of The Horrors’ set. Unfortunately The Horrors did nothing to change my opinion that they’re *horrifically* boring live. I like The Horrors but they’re so deadpan live that it’s almost impossible to pay attention to them for more than a few minutes at a time.

In direct opposition, The Hives, came on and tore the whole festival apart. Goodness knows what possessed them to wear top hats and tails in 27 degree heat but they’ve never been known for their “sanity”. Howlin’ Pelle Almqvist was on top form rambling and leaping around, attempting to convince the audience that a lack of adequate response was not only a danger to their personal safety but also denoted low intelligence. There is no question that every Hives song sounds virtually the same but they brought the energy that Wireless needed and got everyone smiling and dancing.

TV On The Radio followed with a sublimely bluesy soulful set. Sticking to the more upbeat side of their repertoire, Tunde Adebimpe’s powerful vocals swept across the crowd at the main stage, bringing out the best of the sundrenched early evening. Wolf Like Me was particularly triumphant but I would have loved to have heard some of the slower more low key songs. Probably not the best for a festival though.

From there we headed to the Pepsi Max tent to check out Foals. It was a bit of a mixed set. While the crowd was definitely into them, I found the twenty minute long shoegazy jam session they indulged in a bit much for seven in the evening, but then if I was off my face I would have loved it. Unfortunately we never got to find out what was next because their bass drum broke and proved impossible to repair cutting the whole set short.

The Foals’ disaster gave us the opportunity to stroll back to the main stage and catch the end of Grace Jones’ set. You have to hand it to her; she’s 63 and looks better in a thong than most twenty year olds. I can’t tell what was going on and why she had a hula-hoop on the go for the last two songs but she’s impossible to ignore. Go on Grace, you mad old bird!

Of course the band everyone was there for was Sunday’s headliners, Britpop sensations, Pulp. Charming from the little lyric snippets they projected on the backdrop before their grand entrance, it was hard not to get caught up the in the hysterical nostalgia. Although I wish the woman behind me had gotten slightly less caught up since she was managing to drown out the band. Seeing Pulp live reminds you just how filthy their lyrics are but watching Jarvis Cocker leaping around like that maths teacher you never should have fancied couldn’t help but inspire a teenage frisson of excitement. The set was hit-laden with old favourites like Pencil Skirt, F.E.E.L.I.N.G C.A.L.L.E.D. L.O.V.E., Misshapes, Bar Italia, I Spy, Babies, Sorted For E’s And Wizz and Disco 2000 inspiring massive sing-alongs before the inevitable crescendo of Common People brought it all to an end in a hail of tickertape. There is no question that Pulp still have it… probably more than any of the other  reunited 90’s bands I’ve seen in an attempt to relive my Britpop youth. Long may they continue to tour.

REVIEW: Twin Atlantic @ KCLSU, 13 May 2011

By the time we arrived in the Kings College Student Union (famed for sweaty surroundings and cheap beer) we’d missed the first opening act, whoever they wer, but fortunately we were in time for Derry trio, Fighting With Wire, who are absolutely bloody brilliant, largely because they’ve figured out a handy trick that bands with twice their experience often take years to crack. It’s spelled C.H.O.R.U.S. Fighting With Wire are masters of the catchy chorus and a couple of minutes into each song they have the whole audience singing along, whether they’ve heard the songs or not. Added to that front man, Cahir O’Doherty, combines a powerful voice with a natural knack for banter that can’t be taught. Their new album, Bones Of The Twilight, is out imminently. I would suggest checking it out. They might just be the next big thing.

I’ve seen Twin Atlantic at KCLSU before but at the time they were opening for Say Anything and it appeared that in the audience no one but me had ever heard of them. Friday’s gig was a completely different experience. I think I might now know how one of those kids that puts their birthday party on facebook, only to have the whole county turn up, feels. It’s a strange dichotomy for every hardcore music fan… when the band that was your secret favourite band really breaks out of the home crowd/word of mouth stage (Twin Atlantic’s new album Free made it onto the top 20). There is the elation at the idea that everyone agrees with the genius you’ve uncovered as well as the joy of seeing a group of people that you’ve come to care about being successful. There is also the sadness of letting go of a level of intimacy that you can no longer have once a fan base gets to a certain size. Friday’s gig was the moment that I officially had to let go.

That said, it was an incredible gig. Apart from one of the peripheries I was squashed into, the entire floor erupted into a moshpit with a level of aggression that unsurprisingly matches that of the new album. Every song, new and old, was sung in unison by the adoring crowd and front man Sam McTrusty actually miraculously declared that he thought this particular London crowd wasn’t that awful. I suppose it was deserved since he managed to get fully upright when he did a stage dive worthy of Matt Schultz.

Twin Atlantic is still my favourite band… it just turns out now they’re everyone else’s too.  I will never forget the first time I saw them in the Water Rats Theatre (opening for the now defunct, Armor For Sleep), almost three years ago to the day. Where Ross and Barry joined the mosh pit with their guitars and Sam played parts of the set lying in the middle of the dance floor. And just in case anyone wants to remember it with me, here’s a little piece of nostalgia from me to you.

REVIEW: Panic! At The Disco @ Shepherds Bush Empire, 4 May 2011

Going to see Panic! At The Disco is always an interesting experience. The first time I saw them almost five years ago they were in full make-up and top hats surrounded by circus performers. The next two times they were in jeans and check shirts. And I suppose this parallels the vast differences between their first two albums.

With album three, Vices And Virtues, a lot more Fever than Odd it’s unsurprising that last night’s Shepherd’s Bush outing brings bowties, suspenders and skinny suits. For Paul, who had never seen them before the combination of instant fashion-gasm and some pretty enthusiastic performance makes it a great show but I’m less convinced.

Because I miss Ryan Ross.

For those who don’t know in 2009 the original Panic! split in two with Singer, Brandon Urie and drummer, Spencer Smith continuing on as Panic! and guitarist, Ryan Ross, and bassist, Jon Walker, leaving to starting the Young Veins.

The split has definitely changed things. Panic! traded on the chemistry between lifelong friends Urie and Ross and without that it’s unquestionably the Brandon Urie show and he’s loving it. It’s not necessarily a bad thing but the band feels a bit unbalanced. The two charisma-free automatons that are filling the empty spots aren’t really bringing anything special to the party.

Added to this the song-writing has suffered. With Ross no longer holding the pen Vices And Virtues isn’t bad but it has neither the morbid melodrama of A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out nor the psychedelic folksy buzz of Pretty Odd.

The gig makes it very clear that the split was down to creative differences. Urie relies heavily on Fever and Vices and only makes a nod to Pretty Odd by reluctantly playing Nine In The Afternoon and This Green Gentleman about an hour in. The irony is that it’s Ross’ rambling Beatlesesque tunes that provide the best showcase for Urie’s extraordinary voice.

All of that said there are some glorious moments. Camisado has the audience in a froth (possibly because Urie is demanding nudity) and Kill Tonight is the highlight of the songs from Vices, with Urie’s frenzied dancing being matched by the crowd. The now customary cover version is How Soon Is Now? and despite Paul’s assertations that no one should ever cover The Smiths, even he has to admit that Urie has the voice for it.

I leave satisfied but unsure. Maybe it’s time to go and check out the Young Veins.

Doctor Who called, he says to stay out of his wardrobe