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September 21st 2009 14:40
Jamie T is a delicious stirring pot of all that we love about Britpop. A delectable mix of rock, pop, punk and a dollop of clever rhymes, Jamie T is as lovable as rappers get. Since the release of his second album 'Kings and Queens', Jamie T's backing band 'The Pacemakers' are doing less garage band dallying ala Jamie's first album 'Panic Prevention', and are now playing more maturely and consistently, and dare I say, more pop. The often troublesome shift from punk to more pop is actually working magic with the natural rhythm in Jamie's raps, and his live shows are certainly the better for it.
Jamie's best songs in the set list were his best pop songs. 'Sheila' saw the entire metro theatre truly raise the roof, and 'Chaka Demus' which Jamie himself announced as a 'pop song' was met by smiles all round, and also incited some seriously excitable dance moves. The more medium paced, soft melodies of the newer songs were executed most impressively by the band. Sweeping choruses were built up with well paced riffs, interesting backing tracks and subtle keyboard warps. This was particularly outstanding on 'The Man's Machine', which also displayed the talents of a scenester keyboardist wearing tight jeans which looked plain ridiculous next to Jamie's T's hoodie, denim jacket combo. 'Spider's Web' also titillated the audience with a shout of the cheeky line 'Osama sounds like Obama to me'. The simple guitar riffs and the snappy drums added an extra sparkle to the melodies of this song. The beats are certainly catchy enough to make you abandon your normal dance moves for some serious rap arm bouncing.
Jamie T's live show encapsulated all that energy, all that love, and all those excellently catchy beats we know and love, into one chaotic blur of good fun. The setlist was played loud and proud to a crowd that can only be described as being on their 'boozy party' best behaviour. Jamie T cruised through a good mix of the best of his oldest and newest tracks, to the delight of the hungry crowd, who eagerly shouted back every lyric with boundless enthusiasm, and an impressive accuracy. The band fed of the frenetic energy of the crowd, storming through tracks such as 'Salvador' where Jamie's 'from here to Salvadoooor' croon became an urgent yell amongst the banging guitars, drums, and his toughest competition: the shouting crowd. Classics 'If You've Got the Money', 'Sheila' and 'So lonely was the Ballad' were similarly transformed into a joyous yelling contest, but really if you weren't yelling out every line you were missing out on half the fun. Even the heart felt rendition of the first slow paced ballad ever by Jamie T- 'Emily's Heart' couldn't shut the crowd up, although admittedly Jamie's pitch was slightly off - most likely due to all the heavy strain on his voice (for the number of words he can fit into one breath he must have an asthmatic's dream lung capacity!). But really, despite pitch problems and loud punters, that song could melt an ice cap, just as well as it could, a cold, cold heart. Let's just say that lighters were waved ala your average 70s-long-hair-bopping rock concert, and whilst where on that note, in response to someone's attempt to use a virtual flame on their iphone - really. not. cool.
At the end of it all, it was clear that Jamie T simply does pop best. The best tracks were those that used the whole band, had cohesive and well built up melodies which nicely complimented Jamie's intermittently wise, personal, and wittingly commentary lyrics. What sets Jamie's style apart from other artists within his genre is that he has an innate sense for mashing different paces, rhythms and melodies. Finally we're hearing a band that really shines up his already captivating verses and adds interesting layers to his signature style. This gem in the rough has been shined just enough to let us know that he's a talent to be reckoned with, yet he still has just enough grit to keep us interested.
It seems French pop rockers Phoenix are complete anglophiles (ah, my brethren, I understand completely). Claiming that the English language is where pop is at, lead singer of Phoenix Thomas Mars sings his lyrics exclusively in the language we’d trade in any day for the smooth, smexilicousness of French. I bet the dirtiest sentence you could think of in English, translated into French could be said so seductively, that before you knew it you’d be wondering what happened to you’re underpants. Returning to the point, as a fan of Phoenix and their very friendly pop melodies, which might I add are consistently solid from album one to four, I was expecting their gig to be that of a tight, yet jingly and somewhat predictable indie pop band. I thought lots of bopping, and surely a rougher sound to the sleek vocals and tightly produced sound of each album. I was instead surprised to be presented with a superbly talented and underrated outfit of professional musicians (the four band members plus 2 extras) who busted out each fan favourite like it was a special Phoenix Jukebox night.
Starting with Lisztomania off the band's newest release Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix, and the ecstatic mood of the crowd, I realised that Phoenix in their long stint as a band of more than 9 years have become pop masters. A heavier reliance on soaring keyboard melodies, more complex guitar riffs, thrilling drum beats and an upbeat bass line, equally matched with the uplifting and ridiculously smooth, yet flawlessly high pitch of Mars' vocals defines their new new energy that has developed into thick layering of melody in new tracks such as Lisztomania and Lasso. The synth origins of which can be traced back to the Daft Punk inspired track Funky Square Dance from album United, and we all know that these days a band adds synth to a track and you’ve created indie genius (it’s actually true in this case! perfect example of the right amount of synth). This sound was delightfully showcased in the band’s performance of the largely instrumental track Love like A Sunset PtI and II, showcasing a new length and breadth in the band’s new tracks that become explosively energetic when heard live. The melody and the riffs were intricately dense, particularly when seen played on stage by six musicians who executed their parts together to perfection. Major kootos to the guest drummer who did some serious playing under a spot light from time to time, a highlight from the restrictive movements of the other band members.
By the encore the crowd was hungry for more, perfect timing for fan favourites If I Ever Feel Better and Run Run Run, both of which were met with a perfect mimic of the lyrics by the audience. And boy, were those tracks smooth. Like butter in a pan or a dribbling baby, if you will. A perfect hybridisation of pop, rock and dare I say the lounge beats of rnb. Phoenix must also be accredited for the incredible warmth that they spread to the entirety of the Enmore theatre. The modesty and constant thanks of Mars and the wisely fan friendly set list sent the whole place into cool euphoria. Ending on the cracking 1901, which was stretched out in just the right places, you could tell the band knew exactly what they were doing, what the fans wanted, and it worked. Everyone in the place couldn't help but get smiley and get bopping. It was just good FUN. The band did little to actually warm up warm up the audience, which speaks volumes for how much the music alone was key in getting the audience involved in the show. They still looked a little stiff even when it seemed they were at their most comfortable. Must be that incredible rocking out their doing in their inner, super talented musical souls. And those super tight French jeans.
I'll admit that Yves Klein Blue were my first indie baby. I 'discovered' them at Come Together in 2008, thrilled and surprised to find a band that had been as good as their myspace looked. Sidenote- if a journalist uses the term indie myspace band one more time, I'm going to start a scathing facebook group. Anyway, returning to Come Together the boundlessly energetic rendition of the tracks on YKB's first EP with Dew Process -Yves Klein Blue Draw Attention to Themselves in the teeny tiny stage across from the Big Top, led to the beginning of a great love for the excellently handsome, dashing group of young gentlemen of Yves Klein Blue. A little band, with a little following I predicted great things for their future, but wanted to keep them to myself. Holding consistent with the mother baby analogy...my, my how they've grown. After much rigorous touring YKB have managed sell out regional tours, and have prophetically, drawn attention to themselves, also due to a certain car ad and some serious flagging on Triple J. The band, first and foremost, should be praised for their successful rise up the stunted ladder that is the Australian alternative music scene. It's really much harder than it seems to be successful in a scene which is still so underground, you could visit China on your way down.
With the release of their debut album - Ragged and Ecstatic - the result was a slightly more pop friendly album, clearly swayed by a few different genre influences, also more polished with the help of Cold War Kids producer Kevin Augunas. The piano riffs were more of a feature on this album, well melded with the guitar melodies, however, compared to the EP, they're were less varied melodies and impressive solos in each song's bridges and more focus on vocals. Despite the slight variances in sound in the album, I hoped that they'd maintain their excitable on-stage presence, admittedly a bit worried that this could not be achieved in the same way as the loose structure of the raw and organic creation that was their EP. Safe to say, they're show is still vibrant and bouncy, and gosh dang it what a relief. Michael Tomlinson is all a frontman should be . Inviting, engaging and expressive, Tomlinson tells a story with each of his lyrics, with a great dash of the dramatics, something which is seriously lacking in the cold lifeless cool of the indie scene. Easy on the eyes too ladies, and/or gentlemen. The set was thankfully a good balance of older rougher tracks and stand outs from the new album. About the Future had Tomlinson in a very moving performance of this heart on sleeve confession, an introspective commentary which truly brought the audience on their knees, it was truly, captivatingly raw.
The music is more exciting than ever, sprawling choruses that you can't help but sing along with - the best example of which is, without a doubt, Getting Wise. I saw some seriously uncontrollable bopping to this song. The whole place was just beaming with grinning like an idiot smiles (I blame the brilliantly charming smile on Tomlinson, suck on that you unhappy scenesters). The tight musicianship of the whole band was at its best in the band's roughest, rock tracks, the superb guitar work of Charles Sale at its peak on Digital Love and Queeny. A stellar example of the perfect dose of a classic rock riff, injecting a bit of rock n roll into a song, without being boringly unoriginal or predictable. These tracks were stand outs in the set, tight yellers which inspire this reviewer to desire to yell inspiring rock/not cliches- rip that guitar, go son go. Yeeeaaaahh (punch air).The band may still be finding their sound, purposefully experimenting with styles, but guitar rock is still where they're tightest.
The amount of energy the band brought to the stage was overwhelming, the northcote was quite ready to explode with sweat and love vibes. The whole place was buzzing, the band was enjoying it, the audience was enjoying it. It was the way it should be. Following the gig the band mosied out for a signing, with so much modesty and bashfulness it was almost underwhelming after the epicness of the gig. The band took the time to chat to all the fans and say thanks for coming, personal messages was scrawled on the memorabilia - a constant thanks was also given by Tomlinson for selling out the show in his between song banter with the audience. I apologise for the shameless rave reviewing that has occurred above, but I'm going to stick by my guns and can not wait to see these guys spread more love in the future, in a big big way. Watch this space.
Firstly, may I point out the complete irony of the band's album title. Let me demonstrate. Note The Horrors below.
Whilst there certainly is a major lack of colour going on in the band's look, their second album title 'Primary Colours' intentionally marks a huge departure from their violent garage punk sound in debut 'Strange House'. Now, it's important to understand how far these lads have come in order to fully appreciate their second album. So here lies a bit of background reading. Their first album is practically a 12 track theatrical soundtrack to an arthouse horror movie. The screaming lines of 'Jack the Ripper' against a roaring guitar and the jumpy organ melody in 'Horror Theme' would set the scene perfectly for a dimly lit slaughter house movie in which the victims die obscure deaths, that make no sense because of poor film making by pretentious boobs, NOT because they're concepts that require a higher plane of understanding in order to "get it". Anyway, reeling back from that rant segway (Sofia Coppola s u x) the new Horrors album is cohesive not scant, melodic not frighteningly chaotic and develops a vast, open fields-esque soundscape that might actually get your jig going - and not in an awkward gangly limb goth dance way
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Arctic Monkeys. Ridiculous band name. One ridiculously popular song about a dance floor. Reportedly got big on myspace set up by fans. The birth of the Arctic Monkeys reeks of a major lack of credibility. In the early days, where many a teen were going capitals crazy on online forums over an absurdly titled band (a title which they would later be punished for stubbornly sticking with by photographers taking literal visual inspiration from the name for photo shoot 'concepts'), the stage was set for the passing of another hyped band to enter the dusty hall of one hit wonder, 'hype' fame. 'I bet you look good on the dancefloor' was seemingly destined to be that token hit of 05, only to be enjoyed in later decades at a high school reunion or a themed club night which preys on a slightly over the hill demographic. Almost four years later, to say Arctic Monkeys - well established, classic indie rockers, have beat the odds is an understatement. Not only did the band cheat all predestined indicators of becoming just another 5 minutes of fame 'it' band, the Sheffield lads sparked an indie band feeding frenzy. Debut album, Whatever People Say I am That's What I'm Not is a landmark in the 21st century music scene, and Favourite Worst Nightmare followed with critical acclaim and a cheating of the cursed second album slump. With the band's poetic, mature, hip happening lyrics, interesting melodies and riffs inspired by the best of a wide berth of contemporary rock and pop genres, Arctic Monkeys are not a band to be dismissed by their initially internet inflated reputation.
Having seen the band play on the Favourite Worst Nightmare tour in 07' at the vapid, soulless venue that is the Hordern Pavilion in Sydney, the magnificent acoustics at the Palais Theatre proved that Melbourne just does it better. The size of the place was no barrier to the epic soundscape of support act Pivot, a three piece prog rock outfit with a lot of equipment on stage and an equivalent amount of head bashing, rocking out. The well synced members are also whizzes at synchronised jumping. Not much vocal action, just three guys thrashing out a dramatic and evocative soundtrack featuring eerie synth/keyboard melodies. Although many were surprised by the choice, (pivot was certainly a departure from Operator Please- please stop making my ears bleed with songs about ping pong) Arctic Monkeys b-sides 'Matador' and 'The Death Ramps' are along a similar strain of experimenting with serious guitar melodies, minimal vocals and heavy drumming
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Modular Records have a stellar reputation for delivering indie goodness over oceans and foreign lands, most recently rising above the cool mediocrity of most indie labels with the overnight success of The Presets. Modular should be praised as a rare example of an Australian export that hasn't invoked in most individuals with artistic integrity a bought of cultural cringe, following an unwanted evocation of kangaroos leaping across Ayres Rock or small Indigenous children casting spells with magical powers. Nevereverland was a celebration of the latter and of the splash modular has made overseas, the label certainly has had its hand in the cookie jar of indie cool, radio friendly dance exports. Drawing the likes of Daft Punk last year to celebrate it's 9th birthday, Modular's 10th birthday bash certainly had some big shoes to fill.
Van She certainly has been doing the rounds on the live music scene and it seems to have paid off. They've developed quite a following with many fans in the audience waving around their sign- a 'V' (a peace sign) and the placing of this 'V' on your mouth and wagging your tongue around (also another universal sign for getting some action in one's nether regions. They really should at least try and be original). They played a decent set, much potential for jigging, a good mix of techno and pop - 'strangers' is a soaring example of dramatic dance music, pop friendly with some interesting layers of electro beats and a smooth vocal. Next Ladyhawke graced the stage with her too cool Kiwi presence (never thought you'd see those two words together eh?). Her band had not only a cheerful drummer whose talents were brought to our attention by other members of the band generally turning in his direction, but was also comprised of the most perfectly manicured scenesters this well seasoned gig-ger had ever seen. Perfect waify, borderline mohawk, borderline mullet hair dos, loose checkered shirts and black skinny skinny jeans (the skinny jeans lanky guys can pull off which make you wish you had their disproportionately pole like legs). The band pumped out the Lady's tracks to perfection, ending on 'My Delirium' which everyone keenly reminding Ladyhawke to play after every song - not surprising considering Triple J has been flogging the track to no end for the past three months. Ladyhawke and band certainly are a tight unit of electro pop, channelling an interesting mix of synth beats, solid drum rhythms and 80s infused Cindy Lauper-esque vocals (refer to 'Back of the Van'). However, the band is somewhat lacking in stage presence. The picture perfect gleam of the band members and the minimal overt rocking out created a bit of distance between band and punter
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Following the release of Hot Fuss, The Killers were endowed with a calling from the indie rock gods. They conquered the mainstream with their unstoppable combination of pop, punk and electro and created heart felt yell-along choruses, with just the right amount of self deprecating, kick it to the man lyrics. Pop lovers from all walks of the music spectrum were brought together by their unashamed love for the band's impossibly catchy anthems on dance floors all over the world. They raucously jumped, thumped, waved - hands in the air like you just don't care - to 'somebody told me that you had a boyfriend...' or my personal favourite 'I got soul but I'm not a soldier' (I mean you can't go wrong when you use a pun!). After the two year wait Sam's Town's success was still riding on post Hot Fuss heat but the album was still very much in it's shadow. Brandon Flowers' humbling description of the album as 'one of the best albums in the past twenty years' made the band's attempt at Bruce Springsteen Americana overly premeditated. The band tried to get serious and so did their facial hair. Whilst The Killers had progressed to a more ambitiously soaring, big sound and whilst it was a very catchy, tightly produced album, it just wasn't Hot Fuss.
After Sawdust which was in most part an album of fillers and bad country tracks, the release of album number three: Day and Age was barely expected. Island records entire marketing team being entirely dedicated to Pete Wentz and his hair certainly dropped the ball on the band that was once hailed one of the greats. Honestly though, I'm not sure how many of us really cared anymore. A band loses its greatness once the band members start to recognise their greatness and then decide to inflate their egos to emulate the greatness that everyone expects. The album is a somewhat tragic anticlimax to The Killers meteoric rise. Produced by Stuart Price who impressed the band with the Thin White Duke remix of Mr Brightside, the album is predictably more dance than it's predecessors and for the most part seriously lacks originality. Opener Losing Touch sets the 80s electro vibe the album intends to capture and that cheesy electric guitar solo in the end of the song could have been the perfect soundtrack to an air punch Hasselhoff moment on Night Rider. Unlike the predictable structure of Sam's Town, tracks such as Losing Touch and This is Your Life are at the very least interesting. Catchy riffs and Flowers' smooth vocals give light and shade to the tracks. And yes, those are trumpets on a Killers track. Surprisingly they're subtle enough to work
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Make a new album damn it!
Side projects, yay or nay?
I get that musicians must fufill their musical ambitions, collaborate, mix, mash, fill their bodies with foreign substances that you might polish your floor with, write songs etc. But, let's get it straight, side projects are just annoying reminders that the band you really want to crank out a new album, aren't going to. For a while. This is certainly the case with The Strokes. I have this theory that as soon as one band member strays, the others get jealous and want to out do the other and then before you know it the lead guitarist has opened a new fusion restaurant with Mark Wahlberg/Naomi Campbell, right after the drummer has hosted that new insert-trashy-MTV-reality-sho w-here. The latter example is completely fictional by the way, and usually band members' endeavours are more musical in nature, but I was trying to make a more exciting analogy out of a very fustrating situation. A situation, dillemma if you will, which has plagued music fans since John Lennon left The Beatles. Sometimes side projects work, but no matter how good they just make you want to yell at said member's new individual myspace: 'stop fluffing around mofo! Get back in the studio with your original band members and return from whence you came - don't forget you're roots (cue 'I'm still Jenny, Jenny from the block')'. And when these roots/the block are/is The flipping Strokes, well, lets face it, you're more awesome making music with The Strokes than anything you'll make as a single Stroke - I mean how ridiculous does that even sound. Let's break down what the members of The Strokes have recently been busying themselves with, from best to worst
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Hybrid genres are a lot like Britney Spears' love interests. Sometimes genres mingle together as a one off, a collaboration between artists who think their combined talents were a good idea at the time. It's all a crazy night in Vegas, a whim of fancy mixed with a lot of alcohol and the meshing of hot lyrics and beats. But then in the morning suddenly the charts don't like you. You were great alone, but then you married K-Fed. Ahem. I mean collaborated with a genre so crazy different to the one you mastered it all sounded a bit forced. Some people (for some sick sick reason) liked you, were very much fascinated, but everyone knew it wouldn't stick. I'm happy to say that this is not the case with indie dance. Think Britney and Justin. A classic combination but more sexy snake wielding but not yet trashbag Britney and hot, just out of N*Sync Justified Justin, post Alyssa Milano. Wow. What could have been…Anyway, for all the indie rockers who got a little bored of attempting to mosh on the dance floor, indie dance made it cool to bust a more horizontal move. Here's my list of indie dance bands that you need to get acquainted with, in the same way we all wanted to get a little action with Brit-Justin, back in the K-Fed-was-just-Justin's-backu p-dancer hay-day.
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September 30th 2008 02:09
There's been a lot of buzz around the water cooler lately about the potential lineup of BDO 2009. Mostly along the lines of 'it's going to be sh*t'. Unfortunately I can't say the rumours have been completely disproven, although it is only the first line up, so maybe they're pulling out the big guns for the 2nd and 3rd announcements. Otherwise the arctic monkeys should be sufficient enough to pull a crowd, unless like me, all you punters out there have wisened up to the concept of the 'sideshow'. I'll definitely be going to see them come rain hail or shine, or more realistically come state borders requiring huge sums of money to cross.
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