November 17, 2007
The Weakerthans - Reunion Tour
Beautiful story telling narratives are a rarity in rock music, but that’s exactly what The Weakerthans have provided us with here—again. The vocal tricks and dexterity John K. Sampson uses to weave his poetry-prose into the band’s folk styled rock is quite wonderful in it’s apparent seamless ease and make The Weakerthans something pretty special and beloved to their fans.
It’s been a long wait since 2004′s Reconstruction Site but the album here is still very familiar and The Weakerthans as already known—there isn’t anything much in the way of new other than the stories the songs tell. In my mind that’s enough, when you have such a perfect sound for your art why go changing when you still have the imagination, empathy and talent to tell these new tales. Reunion Tour is however, overall, a more melancholy album than previous outings, the wistful nature of the tracks still somehow manages to be uplifting rather than totally depressing though. Is there such a thing as happy melancholy?
Starting out with the tale of a love sick bus driver, Civil Twilight is a song for anyone who has ever lost anyone and wandered, wondering. The thrumming bassline of Hymn of the Medical Oddity carrys over into Relative Surplus Value while it then turns down the folk and turns up the Rock to full tilt for a tale of exhausted failure. After a brief jaunt into the world of curling for Tournament of Hearts, Virtute the cat makes a return appearance (after having her plea on Reconstruction Site), this time round it’s a heart-breaking ballad of her life and regrets after leaving, reminiscing “I’d knead into your chest while you were sleeping. Shallow breathing made me purr.”
Elegy for Gump Worsley delves into a more spoken word style with minimal melody and instrumentation. Sun in an Empty Room has the happiest guitars of the album, jangling away while moving on from an old shared apartment room. Night Windows may regretfully be an attempt to be more radio-friendly than necessary, sounding the most commercial and ending up with the lyrics seeming disjointed at times. The albm then rolls into a song superficially about Bigfoot! with the haunting intro & outro try to convince you it’s only about some big hairy ape-like creature but the lyrics are written so well that there’s undertones of much, much more. Finishing up the album with the marching drums and plodding life-on-the-road guitar of Reunion Tour and finally the end of show wind down of Utilities won’t leave you in a joyous mood, but wistfully happy. It’s what The Weakerthans do best and do better than anyone else. Simply beautiful.
November 15, 2007
Milburn are four mates from Sheffield who are not the Arctic Monkeys. I couldn’t care less about the Arctic Monkeys or whether this second album from Milburn helps to distance them or stamp their own individual identity down on vinyl (“vinyl” just sounds a better word when saying such things so lets gloss over any digital age inaccuracies) so lets forget that comparison now. Writing a full albums worth of all new material just a year after their debut, Well Well Well says something, probably something good, about the band. Especially one touted as at their best performing live.
And the album is okay. On second listen it’s quite fine. Third time round and aye, I’m admitting that it’s good. The initial impression is set strongly by first single, What Will You Do (When The Money Goes)? with it’s stabby guitars flowing into The Shadows styled twangs. The themes remain similar throughout the rest of the album; Wolves At Bay has some great stop-start stuff going on in there, again very Hank Marvin; Lucy Lovemenot ups the pace slightly to get the head nodding and foot tapping; Sinking Ships slows down into a competent ballad moment for the guitar to get lovely and bassy; Count To 10 manages some good vocal melodies. Cowboys And Indians is a great stand out track, a jumpy, spiky fun and playful anthem for live shows.
On first listen I’d written that the album tried to update the sixties and incorporate that into today’s indie rock pop but failed due to the sixties being a bit rubbish without it’s required tacky retro kitsch. But after a couple more plays I am won over and the sixties influence on the record has become quite endearing. These Are The Facts is a grower.
November 11, 2007
The last time I intended to go see The Holloways was as support for Babyshambles who inevitably cancelled… The Holloways still played a show that night, in a different venue, and despite not being able to make it along, I appreciated that they still played for their own fans—maybe touring with Pete Doherty you learn quick to make alternative arrangements as a backup. Tonight it’s co-headliners The Wombats who don’t show up—their singer has a sore throat—but this time The Holloways fans are the majority of the sold-out crowd so the show goes on, it’s been a successful year after all.
The crowd are an unexpected mix to be honest, it’s not just all teenage girls crushing on the band and teenage boys crushing on the teenage girl fans; there’s an edgier look to some of the fans, some look like they’ve never worn eye-liner in their life—a rare thing at gigs these days and there’s a group of ageing late-twenties lads in, swigging back the lagers in stereotypical lout manner. There’s even a couple of us old enough to recognise the impromptu Kenneth Williams impression halfway through the set. Infamy, infamy…!
The Holloways themselves I find an awkward bunch to describe, frontman Alfie Jackson, appears to be straight out of a Dexy’s Midnight Runners cover band; the tunes are touched by the Libertines’ influence and range from indie bubblegum punk to calypso tinged 2-Tone style ska, with Rob Skipper throwing in shades of the Levellers via a tiger-striped old fiddle for many tunes. It’s all very pop. And indie, and punk-ish and ska and dancehall.
The band are undeniably catchy, by the time Happy Birthday is sang for Alfie and the band follow up with, soon to be re-released, Two Left Feet I want to be up there on stage with them and adored by such an enthusiastic crowd. And enthusiastic the crowd most emphatically are, raising visions of structural engineers being called in to check the dance floor after it seems to flex beyond recovery as the whole place bounces and sings along in perfect time. But the mood drops a little after this as they play a new song and then slide into slower, less well known, material. In fact my interest wanders so much that I only just notice them leaving the stage.
Luckily The Holloways have kept two of their best aces in store for the encore. Great Britain provides a huge Specials-esque party jam and ending on Generator ensures the audience leave happy, having bounced and danced to their heart’s content. There may not be anything too original from The Holloways but this gig has convinced me that I’m not going to care while the music’s playing, they can play an excellent dancehall show generating music to make you feel better and lift you out of that rut even if just for that hot & sweaty hour throwing yourself around in a heaving, dancing crowd.
