Birmingham Barfly - "Best of the Festivals"

Ben Sherman’s “Best of the festivals” is mid-way through gracing the country with some of Britain’s top acts…apparently. And tonight in the Barfly there is a mixture. Veterans and rookies, new and old, and frankly, the brilliant and the down-right shit.

The social commentary of New Street Adventure opens up a proverbial can of worms with tales of muscle clad rugby-types and shallow minded fuck-nuts who waltz around, head held high, with nothing to be proud of, bar their over-sized guns and under worked genitalia.

Destroying the set with northern soul drenched riffs and the knee stomping beats its clear to see that Mr Corbin, of New Street, has a way with the pen and, even more importantly, knows his way around the stage.



But little prepared the grotty hole of Birmingham for the ramshackle mish-mash of Manchester’s Twisted Wheel. Groggy punch-drunk licks hold their own underneath the growl of Johnny Brown’s profound vocal domination. “She‘s a weapon“ bursts in like the drums of a thousand hyped up marching bands while “Let them have it all“ stomps carelessly around the room like a moody teenager..

Fresh from playing Wembley with local Manc heroes, Oasis, Twisted Wheel seem to have their heels firmly lodged into their progressive musical agenda. Columbia have hit jackpot here as even Liam Gallagher is praising Mr Brown and it’s clear to see why.

New single, “Lucy the castle”, is rinsed like a soggy towel of crass lyrical thrush while “You stole the sun” grates the walls with its rough-around-the-edges ramshackle echo. But after tonight the Wheel are hardly finished. It’s back down south for the three-piece to commence another support slot tour with Liam Fray and his Courteeners. A future rock star’s work is never done…

Headliner’s Little Man Tate, arguably not “best of the festivals”, give it their best with their mediocre mumblings and over the top hand movements. “Hey little Sweetie” and other distinctly drab tales from the second album appear and then quickly dissolve until “House Party at Boothy’s” sets the bar for yet another over-hyped LMT showcase.

It’s impossible to fault their enthusiasm. Jon Windle is all over the place like a hyper-active mutt in a kennel, but their tales of love, lost and the like lack any real hearty substance and when each song begins to blend into one another I think it’s time for a word with the organisers. Best of the festivals? I think someone’s cocked up.

The View - 5 Rebbeccas

Everyone has a crucial point in their lives which they dread. For boys it could be the tangled web of love, females and the fast approaching car crash of hormonally charged puberty. For girls, perhaps it’s whose heart to break next, who knows? But for bands it would have to be the monumentally important second album. A decider in their musical career. And in many cases, the approach of a second album will be accompanied by a music critic pointing a fully loaded gun or slander themed adjectives right at the head of the musical mind behind either the monstrosity or the masterpiece…

In this case I feel that I am going to lower my cynical weapon of words doused in negative connotations for it is the return of everyone’s favourite Dundee vagabonds, The View. Although we are only at the first single stage I feel confident in these boys. The double-dutch foursome have returned from their smoke filled odyssey with around four minutes of anthemic, riff fuelled junkie drama.

New single, 5 Rebbeccas, begins like the illegitimate love child of Wasted Little DJ’s. It scurries down the well trodden path of overdosed distortion that the carnage causing Scot’s have taken before. And as they dip into the first verse, the melodically organised ramshackle becomes chaotically poetic as the problem-posing dialect of Kyle Falconer begins to flow from his tongue.

The mixture of grubby rock and roll and beautifully melodic pop is an insight into the hard work that has gone into making this tune. After around three years of touring and making their debut album, “Hats off to the buskers”, the boys have had a wee break and are to release their second album in January 2009, with the intriguing title, “Which bitch?”

According to Falconer and guitarist Pete Reilly, the new album is “darker” and more “experimental”, a step away from their successful pop charged debut, which leaves me wondering…If “5 Rebbeccas” is a taster of things to come, well then we are in for quite a treat.

It’s a drug inspired snippet of rock angst, depicting the trials and tribulations of a young female, “Rebbecca”, apparently based on a real person. Nonetheless, “5 Rebbeccas” is not only caked in a new found musical maturity, but also a cluster of chant worthy lyrics, which like the debut, are sure to engrave themselves into the long list of View lyrics that already echo the towns past played. Dark and Experimental seems to have paid off, and believe me, The View are still very much “On Fire!”

The Courteeners - That Kiss, That first album, That it...?

Now let there be no doubt about it - Liam Fray is a fucking great song writer. I believe the majority enjoyed his yearning penned tales of love, loss, lust and the like. And here, the self-proclaimed musical saviour has taken a step away from St Jude to present that nation with a track not featured on the album, and good on the boy! St Jude has only been out a number of months and the fact that Fray and his lesser known band mates are producing songs not featured on their debut is a productive step forward.

“That Kiss” is a delicate indie ballad, once again, encapsulating Fray’s lovable topic, the hot potato of the broken soul - A man tortured by the unknowing female race who simply continue their business unaware of the catastrophic damage they are causing. And as women continue to break hearts like cheap toys in a problem child’s bedroom, Fray continues to pen his sensitive misdemeanours down…song after song.

There are certain song highlights. Once again Fray shows his capability as a true poet in the urban jungle of house parties, ASBO’s and under drinking and blasts in with lyrical hop-scotch which runs so smoothly of the tongue…”If he only knew what you thought/ The lust, the lack of trust and temptation you fought” entwined into the ever self-reassurance of his personal conversation, “It meant nothing/ It meant everything” proves itself to be a real relationship bust-up anthem.

But here is where the problem lies. Despite the clear lyrical wisdom it seems that this is hardly a step forwards for The Courteeners. Sure it’s not on the album, but “Please don’t” is. A lazy comparison maybe…But a comparison that makes utter sense in the circumstance. And as the brilliant Fray, and I do mean that, continues his soul aching ramblings of “He’s just a passing fashion/ And he’s on his way out” I cannot help but ponder the same thing. A great debut, but with a great debut must come more greatness…that is if Liam isn’t to fall victim to his own written work.

CHECK OUT THE NEW VIDEO HERE - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u8R6oSOidiI

Sergeant - Top notch guitar pop

Scotland’s latest export, pop prodigies Sergeant, have unleashed a three track E.P. The melody rammed, limited edition record is filled to the brim with youth-defining tales. “Our lives are all about living for the nights we can’t remember” yaps front man, Nick Mercer, in the most sincere and profound manor.

Chirpy indie guitars are strung along by the metaphoric daisy-chain of harmonic Scottish vocals, all of which is accredited by the prolific licks and riffs of a very La’s-esqe swagger. Now comparisons will fly, lazy comparisons which may mention their Dundee counterparts - The View - But let it be known! The Glenrothes four are floating high above the fields of the norm, as here they have created a tip-top pop E.P which dangles strangely close to perfection.

The Mouth - Lost and Lonely

After a small gap The Mouth have returned with a taster of things to come. And if this is just the taster then the world better make way for a new set of heroes.

Despite my bias, there is something special about The Mouth which i am unable to put my finger on. Every listen fills me with a sort of smokey-urban hope as the enigma of their sound radiates and drips into the atmosphere like the unexplainable feeling of happiness which fills your soul when you know something is so special, so real, so heartfelt and yet so untouched!

"Lost and Lonely" bleeds a sound that can only be hailed as spiritual and invulnerable, simply impervious to any attack as a chorus of chant-like perfection kicks in before the bridge of "the tender themes" and the washing of souls in the urban water of London's undiscovered rock stars.

(PICTURE - Dingy sorroudings are branded by The Mouth and light shines through)

Conor Oberst - The self titled master piece.

Conor Oberst, the troubled soul who gave us Bright Eyes, has once again returned from the bottom of his whiskey bottle with a new producer and an eclectic country branded group of friends - The Mystic Valley Band.

Followers of Bright Eyes will know that Mr Oberst is capable of churning out songs without even barely thinking. His current library boasts countless minimal country tales, duet ballads of lyrical perfection and depressive monologues depicting the mindset of a weary love seeking soul, and now, without fail, Oberst has produced yet another album of top-notch quality with high calibre song writing.

Throughout the record there are sprinklings of his pessimistic and unhealthily depressive ethos. “I don’t want to die (in the hospital)” is rife with such ill penned vocals of the cold grasp of death in an even colder and artificially crafted environment. But such songs can appear misleading. The upbeat tempo of this urban-country ballad is a smiley cover-up for the suicidal and seemingly cathartic ramblings of a tortured individual who is scared of death and even more scared of dying under the watchful eye of doctors and nurses.

“NYC -Gone, Gone” is a short, sharp shot of distortion with a foot stomping tempo, while “Milk Thistle” switches up the melody into a pool of chord plucking warmth which hugs you like a past Bright Eyes anthem. Graceful like an urban Townes Van Zandt and ruthless like the dispirited fables of Leonard Cohen, Oberst exasperates his range in music making to an untouchable potential that stretches from an ear to ear grin to the deleterious scriptures of a manic depressive.

NOAH AND THE wHALE - Brighton great escape festival

The Great Escape Festival in Brighton is home to a number of great bands, it is also home to a number of bands who should probably not only not be a part of the line but should quit all together, but thankfully the urban-folk tales of Noah and the Whale do not fall into the latter category.

If there is warmth in a voice then Noah and the Whale are the central heating of bands. A lovable romanticism which may seem a little old fashioned is present voice of Noah and his odd looking instrument wielding band members.

It appears that not all the hope in the world is lost. Songs like “Two bodies and one heart” and “Five years time” are rife with a longing to be loved, remembered and to feel belonged. And perhaps more importantly, amidst the tweak of the ukulele and five person harmonies that love is lurking, and it is real.