In Pleasantville, one of this blog's favourite films of recent years, teenagers Tobey Maguire and Reese Witherspoon are magically time-warped back to black & white, milk & cookies, small-town America. 'Bud' is amazed and interested to be there, 'Mary Sue' decidedly not and she proceeds to wreak social havoc by injecting some late 20th-century attitude into the milieu. If she'd been put in charge of the school Prom, the entertainment might've sounded something like.. The Pipettes!
The Pipettes are an exclamation mark kind of band and certainly made an impact on all those smart/lucky enough not to miss them opening for The Magic Numbers at The Borderline last Tuesday. Crowding onto the club-sized stage, the (very tidy) six-piece backing band in matching frat-boy cardigans included a dedicated tambourinist, an excellent omen. Things improved further with the appearance of (from left-to-right) Julia, Rose and Riot Becki - they've got the polka-dot dresses, they've got the synchronized hand-moves and, best of all, they've got the tunes.
Smack! A volley of memorable 2-minute ditties come at you in rapid-fire succession. Be warned, they'll stick to you like chewing gum: Your kisses are wasted on me, Judy (Wotcha gonna do?), Simon says..jukebox hits from another age but for the lyrics which frequently hint at, well, quite frankly..naughtiness. Dirty mind, School uniform (the soon-to-be debut single) and - altogether now - Tie me to the kitchen sink all coming complete with lashings of wanton eye-rolling and wagging fingers. Nice!
It is pastiche and could be West End musical slick but, happily, isn't. The girls aren't the greatest singers or movers in the world; it's a bit shouty and put across with deadpan knowing nonchalance. Very Shirelles, very Grease, very Brighton, but, crucially, very, very good pop. Headlining, The Magic Numbers turned in another accomplished, wildly appreciated headline set [see rr Sept28]. Neither of these bands yet have anything out on general release but on this form their debut albums will sound like Greatest Hits collections...

Londonist was also there...

...and The Magic Numbers are interviewed over here...

A last few 'blink-and-you'll-miss-'em' gig dates for the year:
Dec 10 at the Bush Hall for Mascott. As in Mascott! Yes, Kendall Meade, she of the (mostly) lovely Dreamer's Book [see rr May6] will be kicking off a bill (also featuring London's twinkling pop duo, Pipas) put together by Chickfactor
Dec 12 at the Buffalo Bar for Will Johnson [site] in harness with Daniel Smith (that's Brother Danielson not this bloke from Guildford)
Dec 13 at the Windmill, Brixton where sweet 'n' Swedish alt-c popsters Laurel Music [site] open for that Bobby Bare Jr character..OR..should it be the Electric Ballroom for Little Wings, as in Little Wings!? Quelle dilemma...

There's rather a lot of lying down going on on Eveningland, the second release from lush NY chamber-twangsters Hem. 'Sometimes when I lay down at night,' 'Lay here listening to the radio,' 'Lay all your lazybones down,' etc. There is some getting up, even a bit of going.. but mostly it's laying down. Which is a massive clue to the ambience of this record. Far from departing from the restful, reflective mood of debut album Rabbit Songs, Hem have piled on even more blankets and bedded down for winter. You should, too.
Some random images: an attractive, mature woman applying reassuringly expensive face cream at the end of the day, inwardly reflecting; a purring cat; a be-ribboned box of fine chocolates (all soft-centred); a portmanteau. Some random names: Richard Hawley, The Carpenters, Jimmy Webb, James Taylor, Judie Tzuke(!). Far too poised and restrained for some, no doubt - it's certainly the polar opposite of your gruff, manly forearm school of alternative country - it's precisely these qualities, alongside a whole stack of gorgeous choruses atop typically fine supporting architecture, which keeps this blog squarely in Hem's corner.
The big addition to the band's palette here are the sumptuous strings of the Slovak National Radio Orchestra. They're immediately apparent filling in all the spaces in choice opener The Fire Thief and are spread, largely judiciously, across most of the 15 tracks that follow. And if you like the first one, you'll certainly like the rest. On first hearing the sheer evenness of this collection might cause it to wash past without remark but repeat plays throw up at least half a dozen new 'I hope they play this one tonight' contenders for the gig wishlist. Carry me home, Strays with its hymn-like choral bridge, The beautiful sea, their reprised creamy cover of Jackson, Dance with me now darling, and more.
Some might compare Hem's music to the ubiquitous High St. latte - way too much milk, not enough coffee. But there's strength of purpose here, in composition, arrangement and execution, and a cleansing clarity in Sally Ellyson's attractively unemotional vocal which lacks the simpering preciousness of a whole slew of female singer-songwriters they're more likely than ever to get lumped in with. That Hem might be trying to avoid this fate is suggested by their New Year UK tour sharing a bill with The Earlies, Jackie Leven and Martha Tilston. Those Twisted Folk tour dates here...

'In that vast sea of fuzzy, DIY indie-pop, Golden Shoulders are exactly where they deserve to be. Somewhere between a passable combination of Guided By Voices and Cake and a more exciting synthesis of the Beatles and Pavement. Within that competitive community [with new album Friendship is deep] Golden Shoulders hold their own.' But do they really? And should we care? You decide...
Golden Shoulders / at CDBaby / That review in full

Arriving just as he took the stage at the Bush Hall last night, it took reallyrather some four or five numbers to relax into M. Ward's biggest UK headline show to date. Being at the back of the three-quarters full room the extraneous clatter of comings and goings did little to help concentrate the mind on Ward's scratchy rags and generally sombre start. But with Undertaker he really began to take the room with him.
Last seen at the tiny Arts Cafe, a baseball cap all but hiding his face, he appeared a somewhat reluctant performer. But here he is now in front of a crowd five or six times the size seemingly emboldened; capless, looking folks straight in the eye and working the songs almost theatrically. Undertaker was just one of a rich stream of croakily seductive originals and one which shows no sign of drying if newer songs like Fuel for fire and Love will get you in the end(?) are any indication. Covers both cooky (Daniel Johnston's Story of an artist) and cosy (What a wonderful world) were woven seamlessly into the evening. Like Sufjan, it would be great eventually to see Matt Ward with a band; if he continues to pull crowds of this order it's gotta be possible, surely Matador...?

Wonderful world has also just been reclaimed by The Innocence Mission on their Now the day is over collection. If their sound does it for you, you should give a listen to Lost in your depth by Nathan and Mandy aka Fitzgerald...

No? Oh well, Chin Up Chin Up...