This Is Not TV

Though it has only been two short years since Glaswegian post-rock-electronicers Errors released their debut album ‘It’s Not Something But It Is Like Whatever’, Errors have not been idle, and the fruits of their two-year labour, ‘Come Down With Me’, is ready to roll and, um, post-rock. Considering the glacial conditions in which it has allegedly been created, it’s possibly one of the warmest records you’ll hear this cold, cold March and one of the danciest supposedly post-rock albums ever.

I say ‘supposedly’, because though elements of the big PR are definitely there (big build guitars, spectacular soundscapes, epic time signatures etc.) but this is not a just a post-rock album – you’ve got math, indie, electronica, high energy, cowbell… lots of cowbell. This is a tasty platter of world cuisine.

From ‘Bridge and Cloud’s gentle opening crackle of static and paper, guitars screech into place and synths open up beneath a canopy of fast beats. Kraftwerk magic dwells in the melody and Mogwai mood in the guitar solos – a synergy of post-rock and krautrock, a handshake across the decades that dances with such exuberance in your ears. Even Friendly Fires couldn’t match this groove.

From Germany we head for ‘A Rumour in Africa’, blending eight bit incidental music with township guitar before sliding into the francophilic ambience of ‘Supertribe’, a collaboration between early Orb and Air whilst still lifting Kraftwerk’s ‘Spacelab’ riff hook line and sinker. I’m not sure if this is an album or a travelogue any more.

‘Antipode’ sets the flow in reverse and drops the beats, allowing slabs of rhythm to bump together majestically beneath a John Carpenter soundtrack. Now the hooks are in place it’s time to settle down to some gentle experimentation and ‘Erskine Bridge’, with it’s loops of synth and found sound is the perfect soothing come down to the beat laden opening. Unfortunately the apologetic ‘Sorry About The Mess’ is a bit of a bog standard post-rock groove, but serves as an adequate breather for the third climactic act.

‘Germany’, with its pentatonic scale and syncopated beats, is more oriental than Germanic, but the mathy feel makes for a song that is the melodic equivalent of H R Giger – trust me on this. ‘Jolomo’ is a slow starter (with more of that picked guitar) but throws in some clangers for good measure to spruce things up so we are happy. Happier are we still with ‘Black Tent’s busted riff and telegraphic drums, all embraced within the rumble of a nearby railway. Finally ‘Beards’ leaves us revelling in an indulgent jazzy freeform of guitars, synths and solos. What a long strange trip it’s been.

Though vocal-free music is definitely not to everyone’s taste, Errors have certainly outdone themselves in making an album that will appeal to as many styles as possible without compromising their own style. The result is a very varied but cohesive album that bursts with optimism and good vibes. It’s nice to hear something with the tag ‘post-rock’ that can’t be prefixed by the word ‘glacial’.

Popularity: 10% [?]

As one of the few towns that have a decent pub right in the train station, it is only fitting that Huddersfield has a high volume of quality pubs for its small size. If you do manage to escape the clutches of the Head of Steam, take a left out of the station, head underneath the viaduct and look for an unassuming pub on the corner that looks a bit bedraggled on the outside, a bit dated on the inside but has it in shovelfuls where it counts – the beer and the bodies.

In fact you might overlook it, considering its modest signage that doesn’t even hint at the amber delights within – it looks like a Tetley pub. Overcome your prejudice, step inside and you shall be confronted by the most retro looking 1950s wood finish bars, complete with mirror tile inlays and mysterious looking drawers. But on top of the bar… that’s different. Eight or so beer pumps are lined up, each from a variety of brewers be they micro or independent, each with its own tiny taster for the taking. Beside this, an ornate set of taps serving Budvar, black and light, Fruli and Aspinalls Cider. If you can’t find anything you like here, you really are tapped. Compared to Leeds, the beer is also fairly cheap, so the prospect of trying everything on the menu is not as financially daunting as doing it at North Bar.

The main bar area is a lively place full of session drinkers, but there are also a couple of snugs to retreat to and a covered beer garden for the smokers. Real fires can be found throughout and, though food is kept to lunchtimes, you can still get crisps if you’re peckish. Music and background noise is kept to a minimum (though a dull roar is pretty constant from the bar) so chatting is an easy, pleasant affair.

Essentially, this is an ideal pub for a group of friends who like to drink and enjoy company while doing it. You don’t have to be boisterous, but you will have a good time. Watch out for the Jaipur IPA if they have it on, though – it may taste like a refreshing bitter, but it will have you on your back faster than Billy Piper in Lederhosen. Se Gut!

Popularity: 4% [?]

Not a cover of the famous Beatles ballad (though they have done a cover of Everything But The Girl’s ‘Missing’) but a new song in its own right from Sydney’s Expatriate and a vanguard for their forthcoming album, no doubt. The riff is a nice mix of hard rock and nihilist eighties indie, Ben King has a nice line in mildly affected vocals (semi-fop as opposed to full fop) and the lyrics lie on an isthmus between the populist torch songs of Snow Patrol and the blackened futurescapes of Sisters of Mercy. All well, good and interesting, but it severely lacks a tangible climax, especially when one is offered on a plate at the onset of the only chorus in the piece. Pleasing and anti bland but does not go all the way.

Popularity: 6% [?]

The Plight (DS) are old school metal complete with shorts and growls – this is hardcore, West Yorkshire style but Brazilian in ferocity. Make me proud, as do Middleman (FR), comeback kids in sportswear, still making songs to bounce to and smarter than they look.

Little Boots (NME); loath to say it, but she’s a lot more fun than I thought she’d be. More accessible than Goldfrapp, futuristic rather than retro and she gets her brother on stage for his Birthday. Bless.

Faris Badwan stalks the stage like a bad dream, king of the creepers and new Karl McCoy. The Horrors (NME) are making the most of their sepulchral new material, bringing the night to this corner of West Yorkshire. I’m an old goth, how can I not like this? I need a bit of a sit down, so I let The Big Pink (FR) lull me to sleep with their Spiritualised bothering shoegaze.

Waking, I wander aimlessly until Friendly Fires rouse me to dance. Their electro-carnival theme is still infectious, though perhaps they are in need of some new tunes – it’s almost a carbon copy of last year’s show but with better sound. But Ed Macfarlane sure can dance.

Suits. Old age. Satan. Eastenders. Faith No More may not be the biggest band in the universe as of now, but their being together on one stage at the same time is a miracle worthy of canonisation, and they play like it’s 1998. Mike is evil personified, theset is gloriously tongue in cheek with several renditions of the Eastenders theme tune amidst the eclectic set and even cut short they are nothing short of… awesome. I feel young again, but oh so tired.

Popularity: 14% [?]

I hadn’t come across Master Shortie (DT) before, but felt reckless so off I went. Imagine a band with a dub bass and drums, a hardcore DJ on synths and samples, a Credit to the Nation frontman and your dad on guitar. But the open with a song sampling ‘Prince Charming’ and close with grime epic ‘Dance Like a White Boy’ and get the almost exclusively white male crowd to sing non-ironically to the eponymous title so for that I am well pleased.

Titus Andronicus (FR) are a lot livelier than I remember from their recent debut album and appear to be fronted by a tramp, complete with Special Brew, unkempt beard and incomprehensible between song ramblings. The folk punk fare is more than adequate though and suitably infectiously groovy.

The uncertain temperature drops slightly when The XX (FR) take to the stage, cool impassive aliens from London whose chilly mix of Beloved and Black Box Recorder via Jesus and Mary Chain is ethereal, detached and essentially the young reclaiming shoe-gaze and doing a damn good job of it now they have computers.

Joy Formidable (FR) pass by in a happy, spiky way, with bouncy lead singer Ritzy Brian demonstrating why they’re called what they are. But I have to tear myself away to watch a couple of old geezers from Leeds. I cannot stress enough that The Old Romantic Killers Band are that kind of vicarious fun you have with your clothes on… and I don’t mean the lone fun. Harry makes his guitar growl while he howls and really does make the stage his own. His final act of lobbing his guitar across the stage is not a sign of despair – it is a salute of victory.

>Metronomy (NME), the feeling man’s Kraftwerk, have Ood globes on their chest and make lovely noises. Grammatics (FR) have rubbish sound but an audience so up for it that even Rory looks pleased. Owen invites the audience to clap ‘as long as it’s in time’, only to be teased by this very loving crowd, and slays on half power with ‘D.I.L.E.M.M.A’, ‘Shadow Committee’ (dedicated to recently departed but still alive Dominic Ord) and a rip roaring ‘Relentless Four’. They look very pleased with themselves when the finish. So they should be – it’s the sound guys who should be ashamed.

Edinburgh’s Broken Records (FR) fill the stage with bodies and sounds, from the wistful to the reeling, pulling out every instrument from the box and having a go with them. It’s all good too; post-folk to put a smile on your face.

MSTRKRFT (DT) are without embellishment as they are without vowels. Jesse F Keeler and Al-P smoke and knock out the beats constantly, fighting over a lap top to make trance inducing noises, with the occasional clip of remix thrown in. Would be bland if it wasn’t so compelling.

Radiohead are everything in its right place. The light show is dazzling, the set list, culled mainly from Kid A and Amnesiac is pleasingly unsettling and Thom Yorke is down to earth and charming. Makes slipping in a new song forgivable. True, the guitar could be louder, but ending with ‘Just’ and ‘Everything…’ is… well… more than OK.

Popularity: 10% [?]

Opening the proceedings and keeping it local, Dinosaur Pile Up (NME) load up the riffs and let loose, nineties style. Matt is not holding back on the rock clichés and even though their peculiar brand of grunge rock is nothing new it makes for a lively start to the festival proper.

Lively, until you see Pulled Apart By Horses (FR). Wearing day-glo capes and crippled by appalling sound (nothing sounds miked up), they lumber belligerently into a set that is shout along fun and includes crowd surfing guitarists, semi-nudity and punches in the face. A typical satisfying PABH performance then.

I shun Detroit Social Club (FR) after realising that they appear to be fronted by Howard Moon pretending to be Ian Brown and check out Spinnerette (NME). Good call. Ex-Distiller Brody Dalle is a gorgeous, curvaceous David Lynch heroine whose attitude rich voice is backed by some incredibly raucous B-movie riffage. Real guilty pleasure stuff, but guilt is way overrated.

Eagles of Death Metal (MS) don’t really grab me – It’s enjoyable guitar based rock for sure but… meh. I’m too excited about Patrick Wolf (NME) and boy is he on good form. Dressed like Jerry Cornelius and Vampire Lestat’s bastard hermaphrodite child he charms the crowd, prancing and crackling with sexual energy. Taking choice cuts from his last two albums, he coaxes beautiful music from keys, violin and a priapic guitar before rounding off his set with a costume change and a climax as camp as… oh, any of the surrounding fields. Bloody amazing.

Secret gigs are fast becoming the essence of Leeds Festival and being in the right place (NME) at the right time (ummm… then) can sometimes become a unique experience. Today it is the turn for the Them Crooked Vultures (NME) to become the stuff of legends. With Dave Grohl, Josh Homme and (gasp) John Paul Jones (plus Spinnerettes Alain Johannes, the luckiest other guy ever) this is the super group of super groups and their combination of throaty QOTSA riffs, Foo-ish percussive energy and zep-esque grandeur makes for an enjoyable, if nostalgic, never to be repeated experience. There is one moment when the three of them are playing together so joyfully in a triangle that it is unimaginably beautiful. Probably the defining moment of the weekend.

Rival Schools (DT) have certainly seen better days, so I prepare for the post-rockalypse that is 65daysofstatic (FR), a band who finally after all these years appear to be on the verge of actual and deserved recognition. Unfortunately the sound is again an issue, but the band and audience are unbowed (even though the rabble rousing ‘Retreat, Retreat’ is lost to the garbled mix). The resulting rave-mosh is satisfying and appreciated by the band who are, quite literally, unstoppable.

As are old hand mainstagers Prodigy. Going for maximum crowd pleasing tonight, there are no new tracks, no obscure muso-pleasing references, no pauses, come to think of it – just energetic hard floor beats, bass and tunes. Maxim calls upon his ‘Prodigy soldiers’ to move like they’ve got a purpose, Keith gambols about like a crusty punk clown and every song hits the mark. The set climaxes with ‘Outer Space’ and nothing could be more bloody apt.

On a nineties rave high I make it to the NME stage in time to catch the close of Glasvegas. I must admit that I am surprised at how anthemic, striking and likeable they are. Fortunate really, as we are kept waiting an extra forty minutes for Gossip. Beth Ditto enters at crowd level in a black and white patterned off-the-shoulder number with a bright red pixie cut and black hole eyes. Meanwhile the rest of the band (or ‘Kens’) wear muted colours and know their place. It really has become a one woman show and this is the problem – yes, there are some good tunes, Beth has a good voice but the ephemera is getting in the way. We get it. Move on. More band, more tunes… better time keeping.

Popularity: 11% [?]

I manage to miss Holy State (sorry) but arrive in time to see youngsters Airship working the stage. It’s noisy and… stuff. They’ve got a lot of guitars going on but little else. I guess I should have got there earlier.

Bear Hands start contentiously with their greebo front man Dylan Rau advocating widespread use of ecstasy (naughty) and follow it up with some fairly crunchy opening stanzas in an At The Drive In style, mixed up with a hint of Seattle sludge. Unfortunately after these strong initial impressions, songs get locked into an unstimulating riff loop. True, the sound is not great which doesn’t help, but they need a bit more trim and conviction to be convincing.

Wild Beasts on the other hand deliver on all levels – Haydn resembles a floppy fringed Lemmy in his denim waistcoat, but still has the voice of a banshee, now backed by a garrison of bass and beats. Singing duties are also divided between himself and bassist Tom Flemming, creating light and shade. In response to all this melodic richness, the crowd move like an ocean swell, reaching tsunami proportions for ‘Brave Bouncing Buoyant Clairvoyants’. A real sea change.

Blood Red Shoes are interesting to look at and, from what little I can hear, okay to listen to too. Laura-Mary Carter and Steven Ansell make a neat little pocket Sky Larkin. The problem comes from the narrow cone of sound that the stage produces tonight. But I have a nice conversation with a skeleton, so all is not lost. This is going to be a goooood festival.

Popularity: 10% [?]

With only three or so weeks to go to Leeds Festival, you must be getting pretty excited – I know I am, and I don’t even know if I’m going yet!

So, to educate, edify and pass the time betwixt now and then, here’s a couple of words about some of the bodies taking the air and even the stage during that crazy August bank holiday weekend.

Kinch

One of the lucky few to make it to the Introducing stage via the Futuresound competition, Kinch are four plucky young lads from Leeds with a nice line in uplifting indie pop. How young? Well, they’re in their year off from university, so I am hideously envious of their youth, energy, good looks, ambition etc. Plus they’re the official band of the Leeds Rhinos. Bizarre? Thoroughly. Entertaining? Definitely.

Horse Guards Parade

Beloved of Raw Talent, Horse Guards Parade are Archie and James (formerly of Salako) from Hull. Their sound is a bit C & W, a bit Joe Meek, a bit psychedelic… and a bit gallopy. They’ve already been earmarked with interest by Nick Lane Fox (the owner!) as he used to be in the Household Cavalry and name checked by Melvin Ben as they both attended the same school, although, according to Melvin, back then they didn’t have such luxuries as ‘teachers’.

Milky White White Teeth

Originally from Leicester but late of Leeds, MWWT are another lucky Futuresounder and are hungry for the chance to play on a stage large enough for their 8-piece combo. Used to borrowing, begging and stealing backlines (Barry says they need 17 in total), they’ll also have the chance to let their three keyboards sing free.  More is more.

Thorner Ticket Committee

The unsung heroes of the Thorner community, the TTC get a wedge of tickets to sell at a reduced rate to the good people of Thorner. The money then gets fed back into local community groups and concerns, including music teachers, sports groups and youth clubs. So far, since 2003, they’ve made £147,016 for local groups – and that’s before you even start to talk about the money local companies make during that weekend. So when you’re on your back, paralytic and listening to Radiohead, just think of the good you’re doing… indirectly.

And last, but far from least…

Nick and Rachel Lane Fox

Yes, the owners of the big house and generous hosts for the last seven years. Rachel had not been to a rock concert before the first Bramham Park festival in 2003, but, even though she confesses to not being into the whole rock scene, has been a stage side fixture ever since. The first show was agreed to after a highly professional and tempting proposal by Mean Fiddler that would allow them to do some serious renovation to the family home. The promoter may have changed, but the standard of professionalism has remained high and the site has been consistently returned to the status quo every year – even though last year it took until October to finally get the site straight!

Nick is the big music fan and this year will be looking forward to Vampire Weekend and El Mariachi Bronx – the mariachi alter ego of Lock Up Stage noisemakers The Bronx. Rachel will be co-ordinating (with assistance) 22 youngsters between the ages of 8 and 17. Their strategy for surviving the weekend: “be laid back”. Wise words indeed.

Popularity: 11% [?]

The final part of the puzzle that is Leeds Reading Festival 2009 has been slotted into place in the shape of BBC’s Introducing Stage line up.

Comprising of a mix of Futuresound finalists, choice cuts from Raw Talent and bands selected by BBC Radio 1, the roster promises to be as varied and surprising as ever.

This is the second year for the BBC introducing stage, though Leeds Festival has featured an unsigned stage since the early 2000′s. Previous Introducing stage successes playing other stages this year are Grammatics, Pulled Apart By Horses and Dinosaur Pile Up.

The local music scene will be represented by Chickenhawk, The Old Romantic Killer Band, Wonderswan, Milk White White Teeth, Kinch, Ellen and the Escapades and Bear Driver. Futuresound winners Middleman will be playing the Festival Republic stage on Friday afternoon.

As well as the Introducing Stage line-up, recent Mercury Prize nominations have revealed that no less than 5 bands in the line up have been nominated (Florence and The Machines, The Horrors, Friendly Fires, La Roux and Glasvegas). “The crowds will have the chance to judge their own Mercury Prize,” quipped Festival Republic managing director Melvin Benn.

Full Introducing Stage line up:

• To The Bones
• Ellen and the Escapades
• British Intelligence
• Soft Toy Emergency
• Everything Everything
• Kasms
• The Ruling Class
• Goldheart Assembly
• Bear Driver
• The Teeth
• Horse Guards Parade
• Punch and The Apostles
• Boney Black
• The Living Daylights
• Chickenhawk
• Kinch
• The Old Romantic Killer Band
• Frontiers
• Our Fold
• Screaming Lights
• Come On Gang
• Kutosis
• What Makes You Beautiful
• Minnaars
• Sixty Watt Bayonets
• A PLastic Rose
• Surprise… Fire
• The NEAT
• Lovvers
• Wonderswan
• Milk White White Teeth

Popularity: 10% [?]

The concept album is a much derided medium and for good reason – bombastic epicry on a usually hideously self-indulgent subject; you know, my dad died in the war; my girlfriend left me and i’m skint; the martians are coming and i’ve got a deadline in two hours. Actually, scratch any kind of destructive criticism aimed at that last intimation; it rocks, and we all know it. But concepts of late, though still hideously self indulgent, have been getting a bit grimy, a bit urban. The Streets’ Mike Skinner reclaimed the concept of err, concept for a younger, hipper (etc) generation and opened the flood gates for hoodies in trackies to enjoy the finer points of Yes and Rush. Alright, maybe not.

Trip (aka Alex Child) has taken the idea of the urban concept album and pushed it a bit further. No longer is the concept just a story arc but an adaptation, of sorts, of the film ‘Short Cuts’, only this time the action takes place on Holloway road in a series of vignettes or snapshots of life, love and death in North London. Imagine if you will The Streets meets Robert Altman meets Jim Cartwright. Hmmm. Fairly ambitious.

The stories range from the naive slushiness of songs like ‘Applecheeks’ and ‘Rented’, through the risque and ridiculous of ‘Laundromat’ and ‘Olympic Breakfast’ to the tragedy of ‘Go Away’ and ‘Breathe’. Tunes are a brisk mix of indie pop guitar riffs and electro pop synths with the beat remaining constant throughout. The songs are snappy and crisp but never quite give you a whole picture – this is speed dating the lives of others, not a sit down affair. What occurs to the characters afterwards is anyone’s guess.

Music and size aside, the success or failure of the album comes down to one thing: Trip’s ability to wax lyrical. Fortunately, he comes up with the goods most impressively, chucking in half a dozen blink and you miss it pop culture references of a principly eigthies and nineties nature (“I lost my cherry to the solo in ‘November Rain’” is probably my favourite) and keeping the rhymes and lines witty and creative (“when it comes to the Joneses, she prefers Indy to Bridget,”). He also manages to have enough songwriting skill to write a decent chorus too (the simple refrain in ‘Rented’ of “you’ve rented my head out” hits the nail right on the head). The only critique would be that he can tend to gush when it comes to the ladies (“strawberry jam” tasting lips and all that) and again does suffer from a bizarre lack of attention in his stories. Maybe that’s the point.

This aside, it’s a pretty decent debut. ‘River Phoenix’ stands out as a great little single, ‘Who’s That’ bad mouths Noel Edmonds and when you end the album with a list of things that are ‘bollocks’, well, you can’t help but chuckle. Like the film, there’s something here to please everyone, though it may be over quicker than you wish. A cheeky little concept sampler; let’s get a bit more in depth.

Popularity: 11% [?]