(6) You've Got To Be Kidding Me
posted by girlabouttown
So, the wife and I popped (if you consider “popping” waiting in Euston for five hours arguing with Fernando from Virgin whether Shrewsbury is beyond Manchester and changing hotel rooms twice) up to Manchester for the opening of new club, Moho.
As expected, the venue was in the heart of the Northern Quarter and the queue for the guestlist was something you’d see outside the Job Centre in the 80s – long and hopeless. Thankfully some girl on the door recognised the wife and his chiselled jawline and let us in.
We arrived just as Keith (live in Manchester for longer than two months and you’ll know about this band) were finishing their set; the fact the stage had been stampeded was definitely a sign of what was to come. By the end of headliners, Twisted Wheel (this is the last time I’m going to mention them or I will get the sack), every bouncer in a 5km radius was on the stage in a hi-vis jacket throwing people off the stage like bin bags.
Moho convinced my black heart that Manchester is still the best place to get wasted (except Dundee, apparently).
As they say, when God (AKA the council) opens one door, he closes another. The Toilet Factory saw its last party after their eviction notice was given. The deserted warehouse been an institution for all that’s debauched and destitute for the kids of South London, and home to likely lads and support band Ratty Rat Rat. RIP.
Here’s some legendary pics from their last night, which featured headliners The Metros.
Pics courtesy of Paul Fuller
I’ve become stupidly obsessed with Billy The Kid’s demo; there’s nothing like hearing beautifully intricate songs with cuttingly dark lyrics for the first time to brighten up your day (or fifteen and counting!). Gives you hope that not all bands want to sound as minimal as possible.
The easy way to describe them is The Coral meets The Pogues or, in their own words: "Every spit and sawdust jig is spun from the blood, sweat, tears, toil and glory of an extraordinary family and woven into a rousing patchwork of gritty urban folk."
Don’t expect the seven-strong clan to gear you up for a night out, because they won’t; although it’s clear they’ll make a brilliant album and will knock your socks off live.
They haven’t any gigs scheduled south of Brummy at the mo and, as it’s essential you watch them, all you Southerners are going to have to jump on a train up north – just make sure you avoid Fernando at Euston otherwise you’re going nowhere.
Finland’s answer to The Ting Tings anyone? The Døs are from Paris and Helsinki and are doing pretty darn well in Europe. The Daddy (my workmate) has seen them and wasn’t a fan, but regardless, I’m onto the passport renewal people as we speak and planning a long weekend in Strasbourg. Check out their tunes on their MySpace…oh and anyone who has friends in the Home Office, you know where I am!
Anyway, nuff clone talk for today, exciting times when Santogold’s album came early to our office. The AirPort (slow off the mark I know, but still the best thing that’s ever happened to me) means we can play music via our stereo without moving a muscle, so her album’s been overplayed a little - well, a lot. All I need now is Beyond Retro to deliver and I won’t move for a very, very long time.
Watch out for it though, it’ll blow your mind. Long live the gold and oversized headgear!
Laters
Tip of the week – Pulled Apart By Horses.
P.S. Apologies to Jamie T - I banged on about the Tube for far too long (you’re lucky you got away before I mentioned the smoking ban).
(5) Toilet Leaks A Name Dropper
posted by girlabouttown
As predicted, the DIY plan went straight to hell.
I took my best mate, Shabby, to the Xfm Awards at Camden’s Koko (cue pre-awards breakdown at 5.50pm on hearing that there’s a slight possibility that I won’t be receiving essential passes and free drinks wristbands). She’s a funny thing. What with all the bands, DJs and liggers (including friggin’ Peaches Geldof *shudder*), my mate managed to totally lose her mind about the slightly awkward and debatable stylings of NME editor, Conor McNicholas.
Don’t get me wrong, this wasn’t a great party - none of my heroes were there, hot pies were given out for “anyone who felt peckish” and The Wombats played.
Maybe I expect too much from people – but, regardless, Shabby left a very happy girl. She got to meet Mark Ronson and Klaxons in the pub – mission complete, thanks to the Hawley Arms.
Back to reality, and one band I HAD to see again was Hatcham Social. They played Buffalo Bar in North London as part of the Artrocker festival. While the venue was full of edgy shmedgy kids and a shed load of checked shirts, the band really impressed. Although they were a bit lazy towards the end...I don’t think they could be arsed to play in time – but what do I know? Maybe it’s the start of something new. And that’s the whole point of this band; I don’t know if they’re the last stop of this South East London, New Cross art-punk, Talking Heads palava or if they are, in fact, reinventing the pop song. As usual, here’s the MySpace (www.myspace.com/hatchamsocial) - you make the decision. Their single is being released on Loog Records (home of The Horrors and The Courteeners).
If you like them, you’ll be into The Creepy Morons – they are a gruesome twosome who play loud, raw riffs with some seriously dark melodies over the top. I’ll be there at their next gig, and it came as no surprise to me that Spider Webb from The Horrors is DJing.
As predicted, it’s been a quiet week I’m afraid; the only track that’s been getting me going is a Black Lips remix by Jammer, reworked by Mumdance. Mumdance do top nights, and just went national so, whether you’re North or South, check out the MySpace (www.myspace.com/mumdance).
I’m stupid enough to be training in order to run a half marathon in May, so if you see a lanky girl running around Camden, don’t shout abuse because I will cry – it’s been tough and its only week two.
Laters.
P.S. Congratulations to M J for signing Twisted Wheel...I’m very proud!
(4) 200nH
posted by girlabouttown
I reckon this year is going to be fabulous. Obviously, we’ll be incredibly busy avoiding monster hype surrounding “the second album” from artistes such as Lily Allen and The Kooks - but at least I’ll have something to moan about. Things are looking really optimistic. I mean, last year’s next big things consisted of Mika and The Hoosiers. According to respected music press, 2008 is all about Foals, Duffy and Adele. Oh, and Late Of the Pier. And maybe Cajun Dance Party...again. Whatever.
I’ve learnt one thing from 2007 - I’m not a grown-up. I’ve spent all my bonus on nothing, acted like a brat on Christmas Day and I’ve started to obsessively check my MySpace again - ‘just in case’ - so I reckon it’s time to embrace the teen and return to D.I.Y… Standard.
A great place to start is Ghost School – it’s got the right mentality, and that’s what we want. It’s a club night in London where the organisers create their own monthly mixtapes (the ultimate in teen DIY) which you can listen to online. They’re not remixes or anything unique, but its like sitting in your friends’ bedroom, talking ‘bout sex while you play records. Unlike your mates though, they change every month, so pay them a visit at www.theghostschool.co.uk.
There’s another reason why 2008 is going to be fabulous - the girls are working sooo much harder than the boys - with wondrous results.
A perfect example is German producer/DJ extraordinaire Maral Salmassi and she’s hot hot hot - check out her MySpace at www.myspace.com/maralsalmassi. There are some amazing bootlegs going round that she’s remixed. Not to mention that, over here, we’ve got Ipso Facto coming through, taking over that massive void of rubbish left by The Long Blondes. Fingers crossed that their ‘Debbie Harry, aged 32’ fashion sense will never ever return - talk about stale bread.
Oh, one more ladyloo I recommend you check out is a DJ from London called Hannah Holland. She runs a night called Batty Bass, recommended by Digi Raga producer Toddla T no less.
Fresh meat is on its way and I will be there with all the 21 year-old boys brandishing my cleaver…grrr…!
Laters Ms Nash – it’s over.
PS - Next week, I will be filling you in on my quest to become musically ‘DIY’ and self-sufficient (in other words, I’m skint, again) but I won’t be using guestlists or anything like that, I’m gonna do this the kids’ way, no ID and, possibly, a lot of illicit substances.
3
posted by girlabouttown
My week started on an annoyingly ‘hype’ dilemma. Do I check out Glasvegas (the ridiculously hyped Glaswegian band who have recently released ‘Daddy’s Gone’), or do I follow my selfish black heart and dance my sorry arse off to !!! and Holy Fuck?
Well, having bought Holy Fuck’s incredible album a few weeks earlier - and considering I’d been bombarded with hype since January - it’d be rude not to. And, anyway, Glasvegas look really, really bad.
Holy Fuck are known for their ability to take their synth driven madness anywhere they want, which means a pretty trippy live experience for one and all. It was a shame I didn’t get to see their headline gigs but it must’ve been because of some haircut band getting in the way.
It’s been a non-eventful week between getting kicked out of Christmas tree shops and jumping tubes. Good news is, I discovered one date in my diary that got me through to December. On November 30th, Yeasayer played London’s 93ft East. These kids are from Brooklyn and are about to support Arcade Fire on a couple of dates. They’re mates with a personal favourite of mine, MGMT - an almost perfect fusion of dirty electro guitar pop. Think Prince, excess, drugs and girls.
Anyway, I cut short the Fred Perry night at the 100 Club (but only after the mighty Draytones had played a corker of a set) and we popped across to the magnificent club night Dirty Boots. Then they partied all night whilst I slept in my room with the hamsters. And the controversial choice of album that kept them going? King Creosote. Bizarre.
I have to finish on an apology. Unfortunately, due to the mood I was in (the kind where I was more likely to enjoy a Rick Astley acoustic set) the first time I saw Exit Calm play at Proud Galleries, I let the sheer brilliance of this band pass me by (it doesn’t help that I saw the last two songs at the back of a packed room). My opinion was unfounded and unfair. Ergh. My chance to redeem myself came at the Hoxton Bar & Grill. Thank God - they were very, very good. And I think the nodding clan of black-coated A&R guys thought so too.
(2) Rebel, Rebel
posted by girlabouttown
I used to be mortified when someone would say to me: “whenever I see you, you’re hammered.” I’d always think - but never say - “no s**t! You’re not my friend, I can’t remember your name and I only see you at incredibly boring parties.” Now though, after two horrendously public falls in a week (one at the Q Awards afterparty and one at the Coral aftershow) and a grim trip to the hospital, I’m not going to worry anymore; I have nothing to lose and no shame left. I am now officially shameless.
The reason I mention this is because I’ve been waiting for Belfast’s answer to Beck, cashierno9, to play his gig at Hedges & Butler in London town for a long time but due to this shiny new rebel attitude, my arm in a sling and too many voddys, I didn’t go. But I urge you to check him out. Please.
I’ve also been getting into the marvellous Fuck Buttons who’ve released a single on ATP/Recordings. I‘m going along to what looks to be a great night at the Kentish Town Forum with Deerhoof, Liars, Black Lips and friends. Oooch.
One band that’s getting a lot of undeserved attention are Belgian scenesters Das Pop. I saw them play Chalk (RIP) before the summer and I hated it. Superman outfits, bad tuning, no sounds and zilch chemistry. I understand that loosely they may have some fans in Goose, Digitalism and Soulwax but not in me I’m afraid.
After all of that, I thought it might be best to throw myself into my, er, ‘work’ and go up to Manchester for In The City. ITC is a showcase for new talent that consists of hundreds of bands playing various venues all over my hometown.
Before it even started, there was one band that was always going to steal the show for me and that’s the ingeniously named Twisted Wheel. They were formed out of Mancunian legends The Children who used to have a big following round the North West. They’re energetic, young lads from around Oldham way and I’ve known of this lot since college. Saturday night was mental, the band got all their people down to the infamous Dry Bar (which was subsequently waaaay over capacity) and blasted all those brushed-up A&R executives into oblivion.
Y’see, I find it disappointing that some still regard punk as an inaccessible nose-punctured, DM-wearing 70s affair. I hope that, in our time, it’ll be about recognising the soul, DIY and kids crawling up the monitors to get closer to the songs, not the haircuts. Yet this is exactly what I saw happening back home in Manchester. The Twisted Wheel crowd didn’t give a crap - they were screaming each and every lyric with such vigour into lead singer Jonny’s face that it was almost disorientating. Organic, and with every song an inspiration, this was undoubtedly my gig of 2007. The highlight? Seeing those big label cheeses being put in their place – at the back.
(1) Everyone likes a gherkin once in while...
posted by girlabouttown
Every week I’m going to talk about what’s going on with emerging music scenes, artists, dj’s, parties - The stuff I love, hate and sometimes passes me by. But please don’t be offended if, somewhere along the line, we disagree or I miss some important stuff – that’s just life.
Anyway, to kick off I’m going to look back over the last few months and bring us right up to date. It’s been a bizarre time with as many lowlights as highlights.
I went to watch my friends The Longcut at The Luminaire. They had a brilliant band supporting them called Morton Valence.
This was geek-chic obscurity at its very best… they were wicked. Megaphones, three synths, thick-rimmed glasses and a full-time maraca player. What I’m trying to say is, these guys were proud to be pickled (plus if you’d had homework to do and taken it with you, I’m sure they’d have obliged). Anyway, I left halfway through the set as I was getting the industry lag; my feet were hurting, I couldn’t consume anymore liquid and I had smoked so much I was beginning to bark. Let’s move on.
Another Music=Another Kitchen at Proud Galleries, Camden. That’s right socialites, its 3am Girls’ heaven; ultra trendy and all about the high waist jeans, stark white pumps, boyfriends in bands and David Gest.
I went to check out The Enemy’s tip for the next big thing, Exit Calm and lie on ridiculous cushions. The band were OK, not the massive fuss I thought there was going to be. Early Verve fans will love it, although something tells me that now they’ve got the real thing back, they won’t bat an eyelid about these young pretenders.
So, I was enduring my first week of the non-smoking ban whilst running the office on my own with a 15 year-old work experience kid (who was literally too cool for school) when it occurred to me that the night before I moved house, we had a gig to pull off. I knew a miracle had to happen for everything to be OK.
Enter William (the band) – crap name, I know. They have been championed by Xfm and supported by independent label Tough Love Records. I don’t think it matters that I really dislike this band; what matters is that they have lots of friends and a very short set. You should check ‘em out if you’re the kind of person who gets the butter from the fridge before putting the bread in the toaster.
Fast forward, and the wife and I turned up to an empty Figure5 gig. These guys (stereotypical ‘guys’, i.e. no dress sense, fuzzy round the edges but somehow manage to pull it off) were impressive. Imagine The La’s asked the hot fella from your local club/pub to front their band. They were prolific and memorable - a ‘band’ in the most traditional sense. Plus - I don’t know if this matters - their drummer doesn’t have lower arms. He strapped his sticks with duck tape to his upper arms and played like FIRE. Worth checking out - just shows that a crap name shouldn’t put you off, eh?
Anyway, Another Music=Another Kitchen at Proud Galleries, Camden, changed their name moved across the road to The Barfly with what turned out to be seriously catastrophic affects. Drink!!!Dance!!!Die!!! was certainly dead. Anyway, ’65 new boys and general lovelies, The Metros, did some damage, and showed newcomers to the scene Cage The Elephant how Souf East London kids shake a leg!
It wasn’t a shock to me that that the next day, my mental state and my bank balance were way below par. Things were dire. I had to pull myself together, which took me to the only place a broke 22 year-old can go…an impressively busy, and seemed to be a Ray-Ban endorsed Transgressive house party in Camden. Perfect!
But I wasn’t ready for this party. The place was like a festival - I mean, you had to schedule half an hour in to go to the toilet. Therefore, due to heavy congestion, we missed newly-signed singer/songwriter Jeremy Walmsley. He was at least a floor away, which means I can’t tell you about him. You’ll have to check that one out for yourselves. Sorry, but it was a Friday night.
On the upside, I was paid a few days ago and went to Toddla T’s ‘Do You Know’ dance last night in a derelict basement with a password on the door. It was hardcore, rammed and possibly the whitest crowd ever to party down there. I was a bit nervous, so as soon as my first female friend made her entrance I grabbed her and headed to the toilet (I saw the look on a bloke’s face after his visit and decided moral support was definitely needed). We had a muttering about how we were wearing the wrong clothes and it’s a case of getting a grip. For the first time this week, I did; make-up was caked on, drinks were downed and y’know what? We had a seriously good time!
Here’s to the heavy soundsystem, pulling your socks up and the man himself…
TIP OF THE MONTH
Sheffield born-and-bred dancehall DJ Toddla T (aka Small Arms Fiya)…the kids dance like they have weights on their shoes. It’s heavy.