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.
September 13, 2007
Glasgow’s Barfly on the edge of the Clyde is a long way from Brisbane and Australia’s Gold Coast. It’s a damn long way for five teenagers to come and play a gig. Formed to take part in a school battle of the bands, Operator Please are a disco-punk five-piece who have since gone on to tour with Kaiser Chiefs, Arctic Monkeys, The Go! Team and Maximo Park as well as gaining a #10 spot in the UK indie charts with a song about ping pong. The cynic in me is ready for a poor show with their success down to good PR and slick production on the recorded material. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
As soon as they take to the stage their energy infects the room, lead vocalist Amandah Wilkinson belting out the tunes with a power and command that impresses and will no doubt see her become one of the most lauded front women out there playing to the indie rock scene. Classically trained Taylor’s violin out performs any guitar they could have chosen for the role as she never misses a note while still managing to bounce up to the mic for her backing vocals. Again the enthusiasm of the band overwhelms anything describable, Ash on bass seems in a world of his own throwing out the rock bass for the rest of the band to play on—Timmy on drums grins away as he beats out the punk rhythms as if there could be nothing in the world more exciting & entertaining than to be up there playing this gig. Sarah,doesn’t stop moving for a second, continually dancing along and visibly enjoying the tunes and the show while still keeping her mind on the business at hand of technically perfect keyboards and other matters such as fixing Amandah’s outfit!
The tunes themselves are spot on, a mix of bubblegum pop punk anthems like Just A Song About Ping Pong to slower almost bluesy ballads every one played with more confidence than the most experienced international superstars usually manage. Leave Me Alone showcases the bands talent for performing perfectly as Amandah dedicates the song to a fan and then realises the choice could be taken badly, she cringes, apologises, the band & crowd laugh, and the song intro never misses a beat while recovering from the ad libs.
In fact for the whole show the band play so tight together and with no discernible mistakes that at one point I’m double checking for evidence of them miming to tape or some hypnosis trick—maybe the balloons strewn about the venue have mini-CD players hidden inside; anything to explain why this band are playing support tours and smaller venue shows rather than being top of the world & selling out headline slots at Wembley Stadium. Quite frankly I’m blown away and left simply flabbergasted without much more to say at the end of the gig than a string of hyperbolic adjectives. “Amazing.” “Impressive.” “Really great.” “Astounding.”
The year is only two thirds done but I’m already marking Operator Please down as my best live gig for 2007.
July 10, 2007
A sarcastic and sardonic Icelandic indictment of the lack of integrity within the music industry. Jakobinarina’s English vocals have a strong accent which adds to the feeling of contempt thrown up here, and the target is a good’un. Seemingly borne out of the oh-so-fake indie pop punk genre popular with trend setters and chart watchers, Jakobinarina (pronounced yakob-in-arena) have a better understanding of the Punk part of their genre labelling than most. With an anger reminiscent of Ned’s Atomic Dustbin playing Top Of The Pops, This Is An Advertisement provides a healthy antidote to newspaper punks who think media attention on their shitty behaviour covers for their shitty music. Here the punk is in the message, the sniping vocals criticising industry moguls, peers and you; the guitars baiting you to get a kicking if you even look at them funny; keyboards snorting speed round the back and the drums smashing fuck outta a phonebox.
The underlying attitude is there but it isn’t smashed over your head in a horrific bile filled onslaught, rather it comes away as being a rousing and inspiring track, managing to avoid wallowing in the negativity and bitterness of it’s message. The success is not half down to the band’s trick of balancing the fine line between disaffected intelligence and drunken imbecility—tongues are in cheeks here but the whole thing works because, underneath, that bitter negativity is most probably real.
April 29, 2007
Dead City Radio had piqued my interest with above average indie pop rock tunes on their MySpace and thankfully after a last-minute dash from the underground station to catch their set, they didn’t disappoint live. The playful, Wheatus-like, studenty, meandering nature of the tunes sits atop strongly written melodies with Beatles-era riffs hidden below synthpop chords and was only occasionally marred by a lacklustre performance. As they wrap up the set with an obvious live favourite amongst their more knowledgable fans (yes, I include myself as one of their new fans now) the instruments slink off for a while leaving only simple chimes as the backdrop to some of the most impressive vocal harmonies heard from any band still playing venues as small as the Barfly.
Tagged as ‘shimmery indie goodness’ and proclaiming themselves to be a “band from Iowa that sounds like they’re from Missouri” The Envy Corps recently released Story Problem EP sounds distinctly Nebraskan but on stage the band take us North across the border to Winnipeg with vocals reminiscent of The Weakerthans. The indie folk rock sounding well filled out, every instrument playing its part to combine into something akin to Radiohead if Thom Yorke had ever been happy and content, or similar to The Alarm if they hadn’t tried so hard to be U2. At one point apologising for “writing songs for girls” when sliding the mood down into bittersweet emotional yearnings for love and affection, the bands finest live moments come from the more uplifting songs where you feel the midwest dust being blown off as you speed on to a chorus refrain.
Part of The Levis Ones To Watch 2007 gigs showcasing new talent, something a little bit more special than a run of the mill show was required but as fine as the bands here tonight were and as much as I’ve loved having their tunes on repeat since returning from the gig, the something special just wasn’t there on stage. Let’s blame an unenthused Tuesday evening Glasgow crowd as both Dead City Radio and The Envy Corps have the talent down on record that their fans deserve to see rocking sold-out venues in the future.
