To celebrate the return of Mad Men, I have put together a cheeky Olden Days Spotify Playlist to distract you from a dissapointingly dull April. A particular favourite is He Hit Me by The Crystals, a disturbing and bizarrely unironic take on loving your man, despite him beating you to smithereens. Oh the sixties, you so crazy (also another reason to be freaked out by Phil Spector). This track, which features on the latest episode of the series, is chilling, hypnotic and brilliant.
In the midst of Edinburgh’s unseasonably beautiful week of sunshine, Los Campesinos stated their presence with a passionate performance. Their chanting, jangling heady noise which slotted so well during the hight of indie’s reign in 2006 still holds strong. You! Me! Dancing! and Sweet Dreams Sweet Cheeks still hold up as simple and effective tracks but the band have moved far beyond the constrains of their ‘genre’, unlike some of their counterparts who remain tempted by the ease of skinny jeans and a lazy riff.
With lyric driven songs that seep through your consciousness with a rare sense of wisdom and sensitivity, the band seem more focussed than ever to evolve their reputation. Where as once they could have been dismissed for their canon of jaunty, even disposable pop, they have now developed and matured their sound to quench a need for more meaningful music.
Taking charge of vocals, Gareth dances, shouts and politely “thank-you’s” his way through a captivating performance. His awkward charm objectified in his being beiger than beige cardigan is almost immediately outbalanced by his rawkus energy which lies underneath, even ending the set with a (modest) stage dive. Over the past 6 years, Los Campesinos have clearly not lost what they loved to begin with, a knack for beautiful lyrics teamed with unpredictable music; and it suits them well.
However, not everyone shares this opinion as the delightful and ever … vocal Matt Wilkinson from NME deems then “dreary, drippy fuckwits who should have done us all a favour and split years ago”, which seems rich coming from a magazine that lost all sense of credibility the minute it decided the get in bed with anyone who said they were cool. Unlike the NME, most people have faith and loyalty in bands, and Los Camp have proved why this should be the case. And as much as he might want bands like Kasabian to produce that same mainstream “oh-we’re-so-different-no-you’re-not” drivel to appease the 14 year old saps who buy the magazine it wont work. It just illustrates that the NME would rather buy a pint and shag Alexa Chung than it would to actually indulge in something vaguely intelligent.
Los Campesinos still batter the glockenspiel, they still flash their co-ordinated dance moves, they still have a glee for their earlier excitement, but they also embrace a dexterity for the darker side, the one that wonders if you’re really in love, if you’re really happy and if it’s really all worth it.
“DON’T worry, it’s just Buckfast,” said Wild Beasts lead singer Hayden Thorpe, jokingly pointing to his ambiguously murky pint. The band quickly won over the crowd with their self-confessed infatuation with Edinburgh but most of all because of their endearing modesty.
Support came from BRAIDS, a Canadian four-piece who provided a fittingly ethereal, heartfelt set. Although, with songs lasting over eight minutes, it was easy to lose concentration.
However, as soon as Wild Beasts took to the stage, their presence was established, as an excitement slithered around the room. Thorpe has a striking falsetto voice which holds the attention of everyone, in awe of such fragility. This is balanced with the husky, earth tones of Tom Fleming, the band’s second singer, as well as the overall musical performance, which is strikingly assured. They look like any other indie band: rolled up jeans, smart shoes and good haircuts to match but their music is delicate, complex and surprisingly poetic. The connection between the members is also refreshingly apparent as their shared creativity is clear throughout their set. They are thoroughly engrossed in their passion for music and its special to watch this unfold.
In 2008, they received critical acclaim which included a prestigious Mercury Prize nomination and an array of rave reviews. This year, they returned with their third album, Smother, and it holds up well. The set glimmered with truly beautiful, drawn-out romanticism, as every note was played with a genuine intensity. The band handled their music carefully, orchestrating a melodic, almost hypnotic set which was addictive to watch.
A preoccupation with love and sex took charge of most of the songs, with the visceral and often touching lyrics matching the physically captivating performance. The band created a noticeable atmosphere as their sincere and serious stage presence dignified their sound. This authority created a strange, yet unique balance with their subtle vulnerability.
The band seemed charmingly warmed by the reception they received, but it was truly deserved. From this set it is easy to see why even bigger things are predicted for Wild Beasts.
First published in Edinburgh Evening News.
In its 50-year history, Motown has never lost its popularity or appeal. How Sweet It Is celebrates such musical heritage with an eight-piece band and five male singers taking the lead.
With a whole generation of tracks to choose from, most Motown fans would have been pleased with the array of songs, which ranged from Stevie Wonder and Lionel Richie to more modern artists such as Sean Kingston. It is a daunting task to replicate such an iconic sound without merely copying greater efforts. How Sweet Is It manages to put it off with style, class and an obvious appreciation of such influential music.
The personalities of the band are key in differentiating their performance from any other Motown act. Each singer interacts effortlessly with the audience, delivering a charm that suited the atmosphere and balancing just the right amount of confidence to match their talent.
Unfortunately, the band did focus too much on seamless dance routines and relied heavily on their (very) tight trousers at times. As a result, the vocals were occasionally disappointing and failed to match the fizz of the overall performance. All can be forgiven though. Their energy and enthusiasm was infectious and never faltered.
Their professionalism meant that each song had an original twist and a contemporary focus which resulted in an accomplished, confident and sexy performance. It was no surprise that they were an overwhelming hit with the ladies, with even the slightest hip thrust filling the Playhouse with squeals.
The show mixes solo and group performance but the band are at their strongest when they are together. Songs such as Papa Was A Rolling Stone and Sir Duke were performed with ease and intensity. There was, however, a distinct lack of female vocals. As exciting as the male singers were, a large section of Motown was abandoned, and it was a noticeable absence.
How Sweet It Is combines the band’s nine-year chemistry with an abundance of natural talent to provide a wholly entertaining show which rarely stopped for breath.
Originally published for Edinburgh Evening News
In 2003, The Darkness bewildered the world with their odd mix of classic rock and cheeky pop. Led by the outlandish Justin Hawkins, there was an ironic, almost Spinal Tap, comedy to their act and songs which instantly captured an impressively large fan base. Seven years on, however, the comedy seems to have wavered and the self-indulgent guitar solos have taken over.
The band’s history has been a troublesome one, with various departures and personal struggles leaving them in disarray. Earlier this year, however, a reunion tour was announced which saw the original line-up back together again. Could they re-capture what was once a winning formula? Sadly not.
After being around for so long, it seems baffling that the band only have two albums to their name. The absence of a steady back catalogue meant their set was unnecessary tedious and relied too much on their old material to rescue energy levels.
Their initial appeal of caricature rock has run its course and any chemistry within the band seems non existent. There are expectations on The Darkness to put on an engaging show because of their reputations but a disillusionment with their musical past seems evident.
Undeniably though, Hawkins’ voice is frighteningly skilled and when matched with his catsuit costume changes and a few pyrotechnics, which were thrown in for good measure, it seems you can’t fault his talents as a flaunting frontman. But, there is still something fundamentally missing. Music has moved on from the time of the band’s success and watching their set seemed awkwardly outdated as we no longer need a parody of Thin Lizzy or a replica of AC/DC.
They have everything in place for a perfect rock band; loud guitars, a strutting front man and costumes that Kiss would be proud of, but it falls flat. They’re an oddity; not tongue-in-cheek enough to be completely funny but certainly not original enough to be consider an important band. Sadly, the novelty has well and truly worn off for The Darkness.
Originally published in Edinburgh Evening News.
