"For those about to folk, we salute you..."

...the so-called Monsters of Folk didn't say at their show last week at The Troxy in east London. In fact, they hardly said anything at all (and what they did utter was mostly in Spanish!), content to, yes, yes, let the music do the talking across a three-hour set. It seems a tad perverse to complain of too much music (it, after all, being what we've paid for) but this blog at least would happily have traded a couple of the 30-odd numbers for, well, a little more conversation, a little less action.

Specifically, a couple of the Bright Eyes songs, even though some of Conor's compositions on the MoF album - Say please, Ahead of the curve - are as good as anything on there. Even though Oberst is the most high-profile of this gang if any of their number seemed to have been shuffled forward for frontman duties it was Matt Ward. Which is slightly amazing when rr recalls the reticent figure he cut on his first London visit, his honeyed rasp emerging from the shade of a long-peaked baseball cap at the Arts Cafe half a lifetime ago. And its equally amazing, reading some of the show feedback, that there's still apparently plenty of folks around who haven't woken up to Ward's greatness. OK, his songs on the album don't take much spotting, their sheer M.Ward-ness rendering them impervious to his cohorts influence. But if you can stand there alone with an acoustic and deliver a song like Chinese translation so completely winningly, who needs the others?

That said, the show proved that no song ever suffers from having Jim James singing harmony, being nowhere more evident than when Will Johnson - yes, the Will Johnson - stepped out from behind the drumkit to duet his own song Just to know what you've been dreaming. Due to an oppressive security presence on permanent camera patrol you'll just have to imagine how pretty it sounded:

And, blimey, if folks' thought their M. Ward revision was daunting they'd better said aside the whole of 2010 for Johnson's..ooh, dozen albums is it now? He told the local press recently how the Monsters gig came about...

Yep, some folks you can just rely on. Amongst the early rr bankers for next year are matt pond PA's The dark leaves and whatever The Weepies will be calling their fourth collection. This blog has been in Deb & Steve's corner since, well, February 1 2004 to be exact, and the snatches of new material to be heard on this bit of vid suggest the well is far from dry:





[the weepies]

And when The Weepies do get round to flying the nest again for some touring Haley Bonar would be a great fit for the west coast sweep now she's in Portland. reallyrather makes no excuses for pushing Big star yet again (tho' she's three-parts finished the next one - Nettwerk, make that call!). Here's the fourth-best track:

[haley bonar]

Just as 'Christmas' seems to start ever earlier so too the 'Year End' lists season. Last week came the Rough Trade Top 60 for 2009. Fair enough this is a shop list and probably quite a handy marketing tool sales-wise over the next few weeks but from this blog's POV, tho' it does rank The XX release no.1, the total absence of another British band's debut holes its credibility below the water line:

Though in truth his music doesn't totally hit this blog's spot, there's plenty engaging about Tom Brosseau's vaguely distracted, generous personality live in performance. And even more so when it's augmented, as at the Windmill in Brixton last Thursday, by empathetic assists from no less than Shelley Short, native member of fertile Portland alt-folk scene on her first UK.
Sharing a kind of artless, timeless aesthetic, the pair's all-too-brief set conjured a transporting back-porch reverie (even if the spell was shattered the instant rr stepped out the door to encounter a blaring police BMW ripping past the venue to the latest crack den atrocity or some such).

Read more about Shelley here. This blog totally loved her handmade limited edition debut five years back [go] but was not anticipating taking receipt of the on-order new one (A cave, a canoo - hear/buy) this side of Christmas thanks to the UK postal lack-of-service. My explanation really wasn't a blatant hustle for a freebie, Shelley, but thank you again...
[shelley short][tom brosseau][anikainlondon was there too]

Shelley is an original Portlander(??) but the scene's magnetic pull for girls with guitars has attracted another long-time reallyrather favourite Haley Bonar, recently relocated from the mid-west. How on earth her super-accessible last album Big star wasn't more widely picked up on is just another of life's baffling mysteries (see also: Gravenhurst's The Western lands, matt pond PA's Emblems and, er, most other albums favoured hereabouts). Surely its only a matter of time before she's signed up by..Nettwerk? Anyway, just before she hitched up her wagon and headed west she did a turn down at the zoo (as you do):

Meanwhile, back at the Windmill, earlier on the bill were the very taking melodies (if slightly gauche lyrics) of Iceland's Lovísa Elísabet Sigrúnardóttir aka Lay Low. When the lap steel accompaniest kicked in the sound approached the airy, lovelorn luminosity of Sweden's long-and-lamentably lost Laurel Music [here hear]:

[lay low]

In any line-up of reallyrather's imaginary festival there's usually a place for The Tyde, LA's proto-surf slackers who can hardly seem to muster a tour of the West Coast let alone Europe. So we must grateful for what we can get, which is Darren Rademaker solo, opening for The Shaky Hands at The Lexington Nov 5...

...and also next month a UK debut for Florida's '60s orch-pop classicists The Postmarks...

To the fourth End of the Road Festival at Larmer Tree Gardens on the Dorset/Wilts borders. A lovely pit-stop in glorious sunshine amongst the fruit & veg at the nearby Pythouse Kitchen Garden augered well and, weather-wise at least, EotR IV proved to be the best one yet. Sold out some time in advance but capacity still excellently (and, methinks, crucially) held at 5,000, there were few musical surprises and the usual over-representation of Americana earnestness but still offered way more interest than your average festival (and certainly more than, say, Bestival barely 50 miles away which was ran over the same weekend)...

Favourite act of the weekend turned out to be one of the last to perform, boy-girl guitar & drums combo Wye Oak from Baltimore. Sitting down front in the Tipitent on Sunday night, their brand of driving shoegaze proved a distinctly more compelling proposition live than on disc. Andy drums with three limbs and plays a little synth with the other while Jenn churns out delicious cascades of shimmering guitar noise beneath her proto-indie girl vocal. Necessarily focussed and to-the-point, this set was a treat and highlighted the relative lack of choice indie pop on offer...
[wye oak]

Apparently, like quite a few other hot tickets playing the Tipitent, plently of folks could only hear Wye Oak, not see them. The feel and look of this space was superior to its predecessor but its layout and points of entry need rethinking. Still, if you were smart and determined you generally didn't have to miss out - get there early enough and there was always plenty of space down the front, just don't look back. Young Swedish sisters First Aid Kit were another act many couldn't get in to see but this blog had Position A for their pristine harmonic folkisms:

But it was another, way more American-flavoured, Swedish country-folkster who proved probably the biggest 'break out' act of the weekend, The Tallest Man on Earth's confident demeanour and super-vibrant picking coupled with a voice that simply obligated a singing career holding a huge crowd's attention in the Big Top. Didn't ask 'em but reallyrather suspects the nearby Rough Trade shop's supplies of Kristian Matsson's CDs were entirely hoovered up within minutes of his set ending...
[the tallest man on earth]

Other notebook entries: ..excellent post-Saxondale comedy courtesty of Shane Meadows and Paddy Considine in upcoming shoestring movie Le Donk ... fantastic pizza tent - great grub, great vibe thingy ... Shearwater again showing their swelling substance, brand new material easily holding a goodly Garden Stage crowd rapt ... those way, way too moorish Shepherd's ice creams ... Loney, Dear still crap at ending songs live, undermining willing ovations time and again ...

So, should you snap up an early bird discounted ticket for the EotR 2010? Even though there's not nearly enough optimistic indiepop pleasures and the plaid shirts 'n' beards brigade does predominate, reallyrather is voting 'yes'. Magazines-wise, the festival is equal parts Uncut, Plan B and, perhaps mostly equally of all, the late-lamented Comes With A Smile. Take the contents of any back issue of the latter and you could easily read it as an EotR programme (rr is amazed never to have spotted Matt Dornan at Larmer Tree over the years). Of course, if founders Simon and Sofia have taken inspiration from that publication they'll know that there's one glaring omission from their programming thus far...

...matt pond PA! Come on, guys, and save me the trouble of having to put on my own fest. mpPA's next album The dark leaves is slated for early 2010 with producer Louis Lino (Emblems, Several arrows later) back in the saddle and another bold showing is more confidently expected than the prospect of some UK shows...
[matt pond pa]

So anyway, listen...

Library Voices are yet another of those Canadian troupes with far more members than is strictly necessary to produce their noise [ten?!]. They haven't crossed the border yet and have just an EP to their name. Amazingly, this cracker isn't on it - Haunt this house will haunt your brain:

But EPs are excellent things, generally; so many records would be better as mini albums. Like The Xx debut, which is terrific for five songs (peaking with tune-of-the-moment Islands) but kind of sags thereafter, when the perky beats start to disappear. Moodiness, you only need so much...

Hmmmm, Message to Bears. UK self-recorded project, ambient classical/elecronica/folk-type of thing. Album comes in a lovingly hand-crafted package all tied up in string with unique 'found' photos in each of the 500 limited run. Sounds nice, huh? And it is just that, nice, but not inspired. Good for reading to and stuff but someone like Benoit Pioulard pushes the sonic envelope a tad more interestingly, methinks...
[message to bears]

...and speaking of Thomas he'll be over for his first(?) London show later in the year, with Boduf Songs, at The Lexington on Nov 4. Woop, etc...

And that pairing would fit in right nicely at the upcoming End of the Road Festival which, while not stuffed to the gills with reallyrather-friendly types, promises enough early-autumn treats to make it well worth looking forward to. Sold out, dontcha know. What's missing from the bill? Well, action like this:

There must be other stuff to report but...

Scale and amazing drainage, that's what Latitude has going for it. Well, that and being just a couple of miles from the Suffolk seaside. It's a compact performance arena with only the Sunrise stage taking more than 60 seconds to walk to and 'only' 25,000 folks in your way. And though there's all the comedy, spoken word and experimental film & theatre you can handle, for this blog it's still mostly about the music, which was...
...patchy. Didn't much care for the big-stage headliners (Pet Shop Boys, Nick Cave, Grace Jones); a huge crowd over-indulged Thom Yorke's sleepy Sunday noon set; 'hot' NME darling-types like 1990s and Airborne Toxic Event exposed their dispiriting conformity to the sorts of sounds guitar bands have been making for the past five years or more. But full sets which did register in some way or other included:

:: the rumble and swoop of drum & vocal Swedish duo Wildbirds & Peacedrums, exactly what the doctor ordered after Thom Yorke

:: the permanently back-lit and mist-cloked Danish combo Mew with their slow-burning widescreen epicness - Zookeeper's boy, that's the one, no?

:: Considering how long they been out of the game and that their stock-in-trade is good old wonky Brit indiepop, The Vaselines were, well, quite the well-oiled machine. Good Glasgae banter, to boot. Then it's a short walk into the woods for...

:: ...taut indie-funk trio The Invisible filling the same sort of spot on the Sunrise Stage as Wheat had a couple of years back. Peddling a smart line in funky pop-rock with a more nuanced sound that the anthemic thud of main stage acts like White Lies and Doves, these guys plainly had, um, chops-a-gogo but happily kept them largely in the deep-freeze...

:: Impressively undimished by time, some sterling pop primers for the kids courtesy of St Etienne on the Uncut stage and The Pretenders on the main (Kid was mildly emotional)

:: And St Vincent. Now if there was one act which represented the very acme of the Latitude musical demographic, reallyrather would nominate Sallie Clark with her smartly skewed indie and Polly Jean-lite tendencies. Some acts can make 40 minutes seem like a week; this set flew by...

Disgracefully overlooked in last week's Mercury Music Prize nomiations, some good old band machinations over at Camp Danananaykroyd with bassist Laura having recently been given the elbow: 'She was sacked because she, regardless of what she is saying now to all her devoted friends, was beginning to care so little about this band that it was literally unbearable for any of us to continue doing what we love. It had turned into a living nightmare and it was her that caused that. She was insufferable towards the end.' Excellent stuff, plenty more here...

...but she's still in the new vid promoting the glorious sprawl of Some dresses:

So much time, so little to say...

So then, My Sad Captains. They released their debut album, you know. Here & elsewhere, that's what they've called it which could refer to many things but not to where you'll find some words about it. The 'here' bit is right enough .. but elsewhere? Barely. It has been unObserved. The NME mustered a blah review then the editor announced his resignation; its not know whether the two events are related.
Which, in some ways, is how this blog likes it, of course. (If it had occurred at the time, this space would really rather be called LesserSpotted.) But the wrongness of this state of affairs cannot be allowed to go unremarked. OK, the record is signally not, by any stretch of imaginings, a Great Leap Forward; a Modest Shuffle Sideways is closer to it and if you've caught them live you'll have done just this...
reallyrather has by now lost count of the shows which is partly explains the state of mild stupefaction that decends on pressing play and hearing the loping melodic twinkle of old friends like Ghost song and Change of scenery...

With e-very sinew
I deny I've seen you

Cole Porter, how'd ya miss that one?! He might not be the most dominant vocal presence but Ed Wallis' words snag you in the same way the tunes do, their insiduous charms stealthily weaving in and around your memory cells. Pretty much every tune here punches its (admittedly Bantam) weight: peppy, wistful, quietly sparkling indie-pop songcraft abounds. One curiosity is the re-working of their perkiest and most exposed song - Bad decisions,indeed. It's a bit like replacing a 100-watt bulb with one of those planet-saving varieties; worthy but dim. Embrace your inner chirpiness, people, else that way, um, Absentee lies...
[my sad captains]

To Heaven last week for Silversun Pickups' fifth or sixth London show of the year. Frontman Brian listed all the earlier venues, fairly impressive recall for such a relentless gigging machine as this LA quartet. And 'machine' might be the word since the band have now honed their two-and-a-half albums into as tight an exposition of fuzzed-out, melodic indie-rock bombast as you could wish for. This was the fourth time for reallyrather (but the first with a really decent light show) and it was clear the band's star is still in the ascendent. How many does this place hold, 1500? It was sold out two months in advance and this blog can't believe most there won't be back:

At the same venue the next night were Austin power trio White Denim whose second album Fits is a belter. Ranging from powerhouse Doors/Zep/Hendrix psych-rockin' (Mirrored and reverse is some kind of time machine) to the blissful pop pastures grazed by the likes of Annuals and Plants & Animals, all in about 37 minutes, right here right now its feels vaguely essential.
Almost inevitably given the band's make up, the album's light and shade, the melodicism and subtleties tend to get obliterated in live performance which is one reason this blog didn't mind missing the show. The other reason was I'd caught them the week before smashing their way through a steamy 40-minute in-store at Rough Trade East - props to my li'l camera for just about holding up bang in front of the bass bin:

And so to Latitude...

If someone sees me, let me know...*

Flinging out skittering indie-pop goodness like their lives depended on it, Heart shackles is cracker no.5 this year from NY combo My Teenage Stride. Promising a track a month in '09, it comes hard on the heals of likes of the galloping Gallipoli now and the more typical Cast your own shadow, all well up to the calibre of last album, rr 2007 top tenner Ears like golden bats. Deny yourself no longer...
[my teenage stride]

In the curious way of things two acts whose albums have been hogging the player this past six weeks, one Swedish the other Canadian and hitherto quite unconnected, are right now touring North America in harness. Opening the shows is Gentleman Reg and his tidy band promoting new album Jet black, a record which if not quite scaling some of the individual pop peaks of predecessor Darby & Joan [see rr Nov04] collectively punches well above its weight. Even sounds great in the back of moving van!

That's the album opener Coastline which is followed hard by another four whipsmart belters: To some it comes easy's quick rimshot rhythm and urgent verse spilling into a great girl-enhanced chorus; the tumbling drums of You can't get it back; the lean bass 'n' drums beneath Reg's upclose double-tracked vocal on How we exit. It's pop the way we like it, and no mistaking.
The pace drops deliciously on things like the half-light questing of Oh my god and Rewind's lush, plaintive refrain (ace Katie Sketch counterpointing). Clipped and often kicking, that's Reg; light of voice, nimble of step and not shy of cutting reflection. The biggest sonic departure here is We're in a thunderstorm, wherein Vermue essays Pet Shop Boys' territory with all the expertise of the hardened gay clubber. It's another 'hit' that hardly anyone's going to hear...except you, right?
[buy jet black][gentleman reg]

Don't know about anybody else but this blog finds some records are just a bit too good for their own good. Confident of their ability to deliver the goods whenever you choose to listen you sort of..don't. They get taken for granted quite quickly instead of racking up the spins. The Weepies' records, they kind of fall into this limbo. But the album which prompted this recent realization has happily been reaping the benefits of self-revelation and been hammered almost daily this past month...

...Colonia by A Camp, should you ask. Heavens but this is gorgeous and a record running serious danger of giving superstar side-projects a good name. Nina 'Cardigans' Persson and friends have conjurred some classic then-but-somehow-now popsmithing given the sort of sterling production that a few bucks can buy you. Sixties- and Seventies-infused gems come thick and fast producing a whole which can hold its own in your collection, somewhere between your Jenny Lewis and your Dusty Springfields.
I signed the line is track 10 on Colonia. reallyrather just loves it when you get a tune as good as this so far down the running order and it denotes the confidence which flows through this whole set. Welcome to strength-in-depth city. Quite a few of these songs sound like the product of a fantasy Carole King/Chrissie Hynde collaboration; hook-laden and once-bitten.
Openers The crowning and Stronger than Jesus are a pair of swaying, stirring arm-wavers Jenny Lewis fans will surely swoon at. Amazon tells us that folks who bought Colonia have also bagged the new Camera Obscura, understandable but brandishing retro-classics the likes of Love has left the room, methinks Swedes trumps Scots. Chinatown summons the mellow spirit of '70s LA pop-rock - mmmmm - while My America is what Zooey Deschanel might've sounded like if she'd hooked up with Springsteen and not Matt Ward (now you don't ever have to do it, Zooey). And perhaps the biggest bonus of all is that the *lyrics are often as memorable as the quality tuneage: I will slip your mind, she sings. Wrong, Nina, double-wrong...

Due to an unfortunate clash with a pre-arranged date with Shearwater at the Union Chapel, reallyrather missed A Camp in London last month. But June 23 sees a rare UK visit for Kendall Meade aka long-time reallyrather favourite Mascott, now coincidentally signed to UK label Reveal who also put out..A Camp! Come what may this blog knows where its duty lies (specifically, the Slaughtered Lamb in Clerkenwell - be there...)
[mascott]