Live Reviews February 2006
Quick-links to sub-sections:
The Kooks with The Automatic - Manchester Academy 3 - 1st February 2006
Ben Lee - Life Café, Manchester - 1st February 2006
Amy Allison - ABC2, Glasgow - 2nd February 2006
Steve Dawson, Bill Mallonee and The Amazing Pilots - The Shed, Bedford - 6th February 2006
David Ford with Duke Special - Liverpool Academy 2 - 9th February 2006
Willy Clay Band - Village Hall, Brookfield - 11th February 2006
Jenny Lewis with The Watson Twins and Johnathan Rice - Manchester Academy 3 - 11th February 2006
The Wailin’ Jennys - Southport Arts Centre – 10th February 2006
Ryan Adams - Carling Academy, Glasgow - 15th February 2006
Neal Casal, Danny George Wilson and Garron Frith - The Klondyke Bowls Club, Manchester - 11th February 2006
Nickel Creek – The Arches, Glasgow – 17th February 2006
Buddy Miller – The Arches, Glasgow – 20th February 2006
Richie Havens - London, Jazz Café - 13th/15th February 2006
The Cribs, Giant Drag, Jeffrey Lewis and the Jacks - Manchester Academy 2 - 17th February 2006
Ryan Adams – Victoria Apollo - 24 February 2006
Beth Orton , Clayhill- Manchester Academy 1 – 22 February 2006
Buddy Miller with The Amazing Pilots and Hayes Carll – Little Civic, Wolverhampton – 27th February 2006
| Live Reviews this month include: The Kooks with The Automatic, Ben Lee, Amy Allison, Steve Dawson, Bill Mallonee and The Amazing Pilots, David Ford with Duke Special, Willy Clay Band, Jenny Lewis with The Watson Twins and Johnathan Rice, The Wailin’ Jennys, Ryan Adams, Neal Casal, Danny George Wilson and Garron Frith, Nickel Creek, Buddy Miller, Richie Havens, The Cribs, Giant Drag, Jeffrey Lewis and the Jacks.
|
|
The Kooks with The Automatic - Manchester Academy 3 - 1st February 2006
Review by Dave Adair
Kicking off with the A material; ‘Recover’ was a good move for The Automatic, as the bouncy electro kicked frolic displayed the Steve Bays style presence of co-singer and synth manipulator; Alex Pinner. This rising run-around saw the crowd buzzing off the energy exuded from the rumbling Cowbridge quartet. The dual vocal approach is complemented by the gruff and punchy style of Rob Hawkins, thus giving early numbers like the snappy ‘Raul’ and the cock-sure ‘That’s What She Said’ some gruelling rawness.
The set took a flighty and slightly agitated tone in ‘Let’s Go Home’ that demonstrated a thoughtful side to the frenetic and fiery outfit. Penultimate offering and free spirited cracker; ‘Monster’ demonstrated playfulness and frivolity, as you just wanted to start compiling a kids cartoon to coincide with the catchy chorus of;
“What’s that coming over the hill? It’s a monster.”
The Automatic never let a gear slip throughout the entire thirty minute set. With work still going on for their forthcoming debut album; it is safe to say that their youthful exuberance could make them one of the dark horses of the year.
The leather jacket clad front man of The Kooks; Luke Pritchard proudly announced the band’s intention start from the very beginning, by performing a lucidly thoughtful rendition of the acoustic heart-warmer ‘Seaside’; possessing a Rivers Cuomo vocal element. Then it was time to let loose and the set opening out with debut album favourites like the sure and steady ‘See The World’ and the lyrically eerie ‘Matchbox’. The words of the latter number that were stirringly sung by Pritchard, were not heeded by the keen crowd, who pushed closer and closer towards stage in order to feel more apart of the occasion;
“Don't come too close; you don't wanna see my ghost”
The forty five minute set maintained an impressive momentum, with numbers like the kick out at the world of ‘Ooh La’ and the catchy previous single of ‘You Don’t Love Me’, ensuring that every minute was savoured by the 300ish attendees. The Kooks are determined to make the most of their current popularity, as they already have another two dates booked at the Manchester Academy (24/03/06 & 06/05/06). They may soon have played in Manchester more times this year than Stuart Pearce's City, or even Nine Black Alps!
| | Ben Lee - Life Café, Manchester - 1st February 2006
Review by Mark Whitfield
Ben Lee is someone who’s been around for well over a decade, so it’s still a surprise when you see him in the flesh for the first time looking like he could easily join McFly without too many people noticing. His still relatively young age belies his experience because when Lee puts on a show, he really does put on a show. In Manchester for the first time, and supported by the professional but underwhelming Tina Dico, Lee has a way with his audiences that most performers would kill for. And it’s partly because the passion and sincerity he exudes about his music shines through from the beginning. Tonight there’s a fair contingent of Aussies in the audience, Lee’s home country (although he hasn’t lived there now for the best part of ten years) and their energy feeds through to the rest of the audience for classic Lee tracks like “Cigarettes Will Kill You” to songs from the widely acclaimed as his best yet latest album including the European hit “Catch my Disease” (how on earth the song didn’t manage to take off in the UK is a mystery since if the song actually was a disease, it’d be more contagious than flu on a bus). Lee does throw up some surprises too – with genuine responsiveness to requests, for the first time in a long while he plays his cover of Kylie Minogue’s “Confide in Me,” which goes down such a storm with the whole audience it’s as if he’d written the song himself. And at the end of the night, as if to make sure every single person in the venue is included in his vision, he unplugs, goes to the back near the bar, stands on a table and belts out a phenomenal version of “We’re All in This Together” which almost feels spiritual it’s so all-encompassing. You do get the feeling that the best of Ben Lee is yet to come but for now, his way of connecting music with meaning through nothing more than the songs themselves finds its own level in a live setting. Magical? Maybe not quite, but still an evening that felt legendary even before it ended.
| | Amy Allison - ABC2, Glasgow - 2nd February 2006
Review by Mike Ritchie
I looked on this gig as a curtain raiser to others I’ll be attending this month including Nick Cave, Ryan Adams, Buddy Miller and the Willy Clay Band - but certainly not because I regard Amy Allison as merely a support act. Far from it. I think her music has a unique melancholy, compassion, wit and depth and if she was indeed the warm-up for the likes of Messrs Adams, Miller and the boys from Sweden, I wouldn’t want to miss a note. As for her voice, I am definitely in the hooked camp. I really enjoy that distinctly nasal delivery and the way her plaintive lyrics pose simple but heartfelt questions craving straightforward answers. Victoria Williams has the same effect – a fragile presence but not someone to be dismissed as a lightweight, musically or lyrically. Where Laura Veers is ice cool and Lucinda Williams is all breathy in her story telling, Amy Allison is uniquely expressive, and I hope she won’t mind, addictively quirky. Her songs on this outing – backed by The Pearlfishers’ Davie Scott who has produced her latest release “Everything and Nothing Too” and fellow New Yorker, John Greyboff (who has played with Ryan Adams among others) on acoustic guitars - were a joyous mix.
From her new album ”Everything and Nothing Too,” produced in East Kilbride (nicknamed polo mint city because of all its roundabouts) near Glasgow, maintains, if not, raises the bar on what the New Yorker has previously released. Don’t You Know Anything exemplifies the folky-country-pop style she’s good at while the other new offerings, Don’t Go To Sleep, Have You No Pride and the title track from the new album are a delicious concoction of dismay and despondency, buoyed by delicious melodies. I often feel that once I hear one of her songs, particularly in a band setting, it sticks so it was a revelation to hear a personal favourite, Are You Going Out Somewhere Tonight played acoustically to emerge as one of the stand-outs here. The Whiskey Makes You Sweeter from the 1996 release “The Maudlin Years” - which was covered admirably by Laura Cantrell on her “Not The Tremblin’ Kind” debut album – is a poignant song that was performed with delicacy and a regretful and slightly guilty air. Her song choice was assured and the small crowd responded well. If she’s admired for her song-writing skills by the likes of Cantrell and Elvis Costello, she proved she’s acutely aware of great songs to cover, too. Her version of Morrissey’s Everyday Is Like Sunday was an absolute stunner, sparking a brief sing along as she cruised through the verses and chorus of the great one’s classic. What a great way to start the month, thanks, Amy.
| | Steve Dawson, Bill Mallonee and The Amazing Pilots - The Shed, Bedford - 6th February 2006
Review by Keith Hargreaves
A Monday night in Bedford is as inspiring as watching someone else watching paint dry .It was cold ,damp and the venue was stuffed to the left hand corner by the gents(20 payers max); tumbleweed was blowing across the stage and the beer was flat. It could have been awful .These are three separate acts that are touring together and consequently playing together. It would be a mistake to compare one act to the others although difficult to avoid so doing.
The Amazing Pilots shamble onstage and launch into their ‘happy/sad ‘ stuff.I have seen these boys in 3 separate guises in the last 6 months (solo, a trio and the duo of tonight ) and tonight they were not happy .
Pauls normally solid vocals were muted and the only songs that really worked were those using drum loops which allowed the boys to bounce off the song with quirky guitar or low fi keyboards. Their opening number was accompanied by Bill Mallonee on harp and Steve Dawson joined them for the second last of the set ,the last featuring all 4 of the bill and all the better for it .It had energy and joy.
Next up Steve Dawson ( no egos about billing here ) .Suddenly we are at a different show .A consummate guitarist and vocalist extraordinaire. The pitch and tone of his voice just knock you back as does the ease with which he controls these stunning talents .His set comprises of solo stuff and Dolly Varden material all delivered note perfect without breaking a sweat .A musician committed to his material , his voice had colours of Lyle Lovett and even Ray Charles; highlighted by a Charles cover where you could hear a pin drop. At the end of the set the Pilots and Mallonee step up for 3 band numbers and it finishes on a raucous Merle Haggard cover.
Bill Mallonee adjusts the mike stand ,toots his harp and launches into his set with an energy and passion missing from the others .This is an artist performing and discussing his art. A compelling storyteller taking this tiny audience to Athens ,Georgia and beyond with his anecdotes and lyrical narratives. I have not seen Bill Mallonee before and I want to know why some one of this much talent is not a household name .Oh ,yes I remember, life is not fair and just .He delivers an electric acoustic set (if you know what I mean ) with harp and wracked /joyous vocals to match .Resplendent –worth the price of admission alone. Then the 4 reconvene, utilize the moniker ‘The Bareback Mountain Boys ‘ and do a half hour set of rollicking rock n roll with Steve Dawson playing a mean upright piano and including a raw and gorgeous ‘Out on the Weekend’
They were given an encore and were having so much fun that they had to be told to finish by the excellent promoters from East west. These were musicians playing with and for each other as well as us punters – great to see. So 20 people saw 3 sets – A band learning their trade , a musician sharing his talents and an artist living his art. No comparisons. Go see this show !
| | David Ford with Duke Special - Liverpool Academy 2 - 9th February 2006
Review by Dave Adair
The piercing, dreadlocked Belfast pianist and gramophonic manipulator; Peter Wilson must have been offered many a fiver to name himself Swampy, but he chooses to go under the more mysterious guise of Duke Special, in order to purvey his colourful and crafted art. His mournful and poetic side came flowing out in; ‘Brixton Leaves’ that possessed enough mundane worldliness to possibly earn him the title of being the Philip Larkin of music. A sumptuously titled offering ‘I let You Down Like Lead Weight’ juxtaposed a flowery melody with cynical subject matter, something that has been a trademark of Tom McRae for sometime.
The stage filled up like the eyes of many a listener to Wilson’s music, as David Ford and his talented backing pair sauntered into view to join in on the action for the stirring ‘Portrait’. This offering this contained some Pringle (crispiest of the crisp) backing vocals from the delectable Jo, making for a peaceful tone with a wandering direction. Highlight offering on a breezy set was the dark humoured mowtown skirting; ‘Last Night I Nearly Died, (But I Woke Up Just In Time)’ and was a forum for Peter’s piercing and troubled poetic style. The number featured a lingering Aqualung style piano accompaniment; ensuring that the Duke Special’s sound would also linger in the mind of gatherers tonight.
David Ford has obviously been on a soul searching journey since his Easyworld days, as he playfully paraded numbers from his stern and stirring ‘I Sincerely Apologise For All The Trouble I Have Caused’ album. Scything defiance showed up Ford’s strength of character in the slow rising ‘I Don’t Care What You Call Me’, providing a poignant period early on. The latter number saw the caressing backing of Jo, entering the fold and a throbbing double bass element was also included to give a blues tinge to matters.
Flowery lyrics and sincerity grew into the proceedings when the mercurial Ford built up emotion and crossed the usual artist/crowd divide to add intimacy to the set.. Joseph Arthur styled sampling and a crashing piano concealed within ‘State Of The Union’, added buoyancy towards the end with the main man prowling the stage like a hungry hunter. A calming and compassionate rendition of ‘If Only You Knew’ that is Ford’s feel-good factor was introduced by him exclaiming; if you were aware of how others felt about you, then you might realise “that maybe you are not as shit as you sometimes think you are”.
A tale about people who leave small towns to seek glitz, glamour and God knows what else, only to return years later with their tail between their legs portrayed via; ‘Laughing Out Loud’ left people appreciating what they have in life. A commanding performance was extended because of the crowd’s jubilance. This searing singer/songwriter left an indelible impression tonight and was graciously applauded for doing so.
| | Willy Clay Band - Village Hall, Brookfield - 11th February 2006
Review by Mike Ritchie
Take five men from an Arctic mining town where the sun don’t shine for four months of the year. Put them on stage in a hall before a capacity crowd of 150 in a tiny Scottish village, twenty minutes from Glasgow. What do you get? – sheer bliss. Let them play their hearts out for over two hours until they almost run out of songs, then sigh with relief when astute promoter, Loudon Temple promises they’ll be returning later in the year. Result? – that can’t wait feeling. The unanimous view of the audience as we headed out to the car park past the bowling green and tennis courts, idle for the winter, that this was a truly, cracking gig. The Willy Clay Band passports may say they’re from Sweden but the music that washed over us had an undoubted checked shirt, land-of-the-free pedigree – Kiruna is their home, America is their musical heartland and they sound terrific.
Nine out of ten was the americana-uk review score for their “Rebecca Drive” debut album, produced by Will Kimbrough with guest appearances by luminaries, Garth Hudson and Bucky Baxter. It was showcased here to perfection and found many willing buyers at the end of the show. The harmonies were spot-on, the guitars flowed, with some fine breaks from Orjan Maki, and underscored by Fredrik Elenius’ muted percussion. Main vocals were shared by songwriters, Reine Tuoremma, Bjorn Pettersson and Tony Bjorkenvall. Each has a voice that’s slipped through customs and out of Nashville with none of the band showing any effect of the four-flight trek that brought them to Scotland for the first time. From the stompin’ country of Satisfied Mind to the chunky and driving The Bottle or the slow-tempo and rootsy Homesick and the deliriously catchy Money’s All Gone, this was a treat. Encouraged by music lovers once a month to appreciate Mr T’s latest coup, the band played on and on…to everyone’s delight. We got their album’s opening track, Soldier in two different versions as they exhausted their set list but no-one was in the least bit bothered as each met with approval.
Part of the fun was spotting the influences – my regular gig-going companion and big brother, Brian mentioned the Prairie League and the Ozarks while I got a welcome hint of Bob Seger, Steve Earle, Son Volt, CSN&Y and, of course, The Eagles. While their current album is a treasure chest of Americana gems, they unveiled another batch was being lined up including Hollow and Time, two tracks that proved this writing team has plenty more to unearth from their Arctic surroundings. They joked that they didn’t do covers and then eased into a lively version of Neil Young’s Long May You Run (an unsolicited dedication to this reviewer, incidentally) and The Weight by The Band both of which slotted in flawlessly to their repertoire. On this form, the Willy Clay Band won’t be spending much time at home in the future as they’ll be in such demand for their Sweeeeeede music.
| | Jenny Lewis with The Watson Twins and Johnathan Rice - Manchester Academy 3 - 11th February 2006
Review by Dave Adair
The mature 21 year old Johnathan Rice flanked by the gliding glockenspiel player Farmer Dave, strolls into a stripped down and personal set that nods and winks at Nick Drake, Rufus Wainwright, Ray Lamontagne and Richard Hawley. A dimly lit venue means that the laid back, bitter sweet style of the opening non-album track, haunts you like a Halloween story with the eerie glockenspiel and gently weeping acoustic guitar helping the lyrics to portray a troubled soul;
“I’ve got a graveyard head and a tombstone mind.”
A self professed mean spirited offering ‘Middle Of The Road’ is delivered with deftness and cutting crispness. Maturity is being epitomised right before the eyes of compelled onlookers. We do not have long to wait for familiar numbers from the ‘Trouble Is Real’ album, with the battle cry of ‘Behind The Front Lines’ belying the tender years of a masterful songster. The best way to get people into your new numbers is to get them to sing them with you and, this is exactly what J R did to give some spirit to a dry and yearning offering. The mood of the crowd is exposed when they choose the slow and soulful ‘Acrobat’ as a closer, as oppose to the sprightly bubble pop ode of ‘So Sweet’.
<
Rice does not leave the stage for long, he humbly sits at the back tuning up his guitar in the interval, giving a strong hint that his involvement in proceedings is far from over. My suspicious mind is leading me to believe that the purveyors of alcoholic beverages have put a pin prick in the bottom of my Guinness glass. My journey back to the bar is interrupted by the entrance of L.A. songstress Jenny Lewis and The Watson Twins (they are not actually twins by the way, merely sisters), strolling through the crowd singing the snappy and soulful acappela number ‘Run Devil Run’. I decided that my thirst for some gripping gospel sparked country indie, far outweighs that for a stodgy Guinness, so I return to my prime spot.
Johnathan Rice and Farmer Dave provide an uplifting and sojourning accompaniment, while Jenny takes us on a topsy-turvey country/pop journey through the heart of what could be anyone in the room, by way of ‘Big Guns’. For the former child actress, tonight the stage is a world in which she confidently strolls, making observations about the life enhancing nature of liberty in ‘Happy’ and the modern nature of romance through ‘You Are What You Love’, to name but a few. They say that the trouble with the music industry is that consumers are getting lazier and lazier, well tonight it is a luxury we can well afford, as utopia is delivered to our feet in song form through the delectable B-side ‘Paradise’.
The Watson Twins command many a glimpse with their subtle shimmying and alluring gospel backing, but the leading lady is resplendent in the way she commands the room to silence. Jenny is accompanied on stage by only her acoustic guitar and starts slowly a sordid tale of greed and ambition, ‘Rabbit Fur Coat’ the title track to her alluring debut album. Mr. Rice is the last voice we here in the crowd involved finale of ‘Cold Journey’, adding some troubled indie to a varied and thoroughly captivating evening in the company of a meteorically rising starlet.
| | The Wailin’ Jennys - Southport Arts Centre – 10th February 2006
Review by Barry Jones
Considering the sheer beauty of the sound that can be achieved by harmony singing it’s surprising that there isn’t more of it about. Hirsute men in waistcoats and boaters have probably given the genre a bad name, but if tonight’s performance is anything to go by its reputation will soon be restored to its rightful place. Three attractive women, dressed in black, all singer songwriters in their own right, combining to make sounds which give the word heavenly a new meaning. Singing songs from their 2004 album 40 days, and their latest, not yet released album, their accomplished vocal styling could make any songs sound good, so with astutely chosen covers of songs like Neil Young’s Old Man and The Waterboys’ Mike Scott’s Bring ’Em All In, they really have a winning formula. Their own songs are also very good and instantly accessible, with newcomer Annabelle Chvostek holding her own with those of founding members Ruth Moody and Nicky Mehta, and with all three displaying disarming good humour, comic timing and musical accomplishment on guitar, mandolin, fiddle, bodhran, accordion and harmonica, they seem destined for wider success. A sold out venue is fitting testament to the regard that this languorous out of season seaside town has for the talent of the Canadian trio and the merchandise table does great business at the end of the gig. And what a way to end a gig. Politely waiting for the rapturous applause to die down, the three step beyond the microphones to the front of the stage for as near perfect a rendition of the Irish standard The Parting Glass as you are ever likely to hear. No gimmicks, just effortless three part harmony, a capella, with palpable silence as they pause to draw breath between verses. They are away to Australia for a few months, but come back to the UK for some festival appearances, including Brampton Live, in July. Wherever they play they will be stars of the show, catch them if you can, you won’t be disappointed. | | Ryan Adams - Carling Academy, Glasgow - 15th February 2006
Review by Mike Ritchie
Let’s get the grouses and groans out of the way. Les Dawson talking at his piano was funny, Ryan Adams is not. Woody Allen rambling on is desperately amusing, Ryan Adams is not. Well, that might be slightly unfair: the bits we could actually make out weren’t funny. He mumbled something about hailstones, pies, smelly feet, relationship wrecking, mobile text messaging, whole fish served in a Spanish restaurant and creating new music (lots of it) while not entirely clear in the mind, wow, what a revelation. He said he was trying to be “personable” but his chatter was inane. During the many barely audible, incoherent passages he sounded like Michael Keaton in “Beetlejuice.” He also chatted to “Fred from The Cardinals” who was back stage, so presumably Fred could hear him or, like a lot of the crowd, didn’t he care either? On the music front - the complaints are almost over – he stumbled through the cigarette smoke into intros on the piano and guitar and then stopped, either to change from one instrument to another, light another fag or take a drink from the variety of glasses he had. He fidgeted between seats and seemed bamboozled by the song list he’d brought on with him. “There’s a helluva lot of songs on this,” he said. Duh. He only wrote them all. Truly, it was all very juvenile and eventually, some fans, in typical Glasgow fashion, shall we say, encouraged him to desist from the chit chat and “play, play (expletive) anything” to justify the £21 ticket price.
Even allowing for some false starts the music was engrossing. Take nothing away from his musical talents when he gets down to it. His voice, falsetto, piano balladeer or punky growl, was terrific and his choice of songs was spot on – and that includes Wish You Were Here from the truly awful “Rock n Roll” release. Rescue Blues, from “Gold” saw him inventively combine guitar and piano that created a brief spread of warmth throughout the venue. He followed comfortably with Winding Wheel from “Heartbreaker” and a stunning Sylvia Plath, also from “Gold” with additional, on-the-spur-of-the- moment lyrics added. Beautiful Sorta from “Cold Roses” had a T.Rex-like rash all over it while End from “Jacksonville City Lights” – apart from a primary schoolboy burp in the first verse – was first class, backed by gentle snare from Fred. It showed how he can interpret and re-work his material like all great songsmiths. It was outstanding and not far behind in the really very good stakes were Why Do They Leave from “Heartbreaker,” La Ciniega Just Smiled and Rosebud from “Gold” which was mellow and thoughtful, even better than on the CD. His final encore number “New York, New York” didn’t please the purists but the flailing spunkiness and barrage of chords put a spin on it and demonstrated the artiste is always looking to do something slightly off the wall.
This was the third time I had seen him and I thought his CD offerings last year were of a high standard although, yes, some fillers such as the Nora Jones duet should have been ditched. He came with his band previously and was sensational. This time he was solo and reached the heights occasionally. It’s said, when it comes to recording, he needs a good editor. I am not advocating that he slick down his hair, employ dancing girls or make his gigs as smooth and rehearsed as a Broadway musical, far from it. A wanton, wayward approach is fine, but he should know when to cool it and perform his songs. This shambolic, frustrating, disjointed show was crying out for proper scripting and some guidance. There’s nothing wrong with being grown up, man. | | Neal Casal, Danny George Wilson and Garron Frith - The Klondyke Bowls Club, Manchester - 11th February 2006
Review by Jess Pettener
So here we are at The Klondyke Bowls Club Levonshulme, Manchester on a Saturday Evening - it doesn’t look much but once inside you just know its going to be intimate if nothing else. First up is a songwriter that’s just started to get small praise in Manchester, Garron Frith. At present he’s making an album with the likes of Willard Grant and Grand Drive with producer and all rounder Simon Alpin. His music is an eclectic mixed bag of songs that has aspects of Adams/Rice but with an originality of its own - he plays a six song set that goes down well. Later someone tells me he’s unsigned; I cant see it lasting and with gigs with Glen Tilbrook, Eliza Carthy, Micheal Hurley and Mark Mulcahy under his belt I think we’ll hear a lot more from this guy.
Next up is Danny George Wilson; last year's Famous Mad Mile album was a different direction from Grand Drive’s usual sound, a more delicate back to basics record. It’s not too much of a departure for the Drive fans and works well with people like Jess Klein and Josh Hillman playing on it.
Most of the set was from Mad Mile, with stuff like Firefly and a couple of new ones from a forthcoming second album hopefully being released later in the year. The crowd enjoyed the set, Danny looked right at home up on stage and sometimes you felt he was just letting go unbeknown we were there at all, a rare treat that left us wanting more.
Then we come to Neal Casal, the headline act, with seven albums, a compilation, a live album and part time Cardinal, (and that doesn’t include Hazy Malaze), you could say he’s built up a pretty good body of work. His voice is so suited to the intimacy of this kind of acoustic gig, sometimes you forget he has a full on band. "Basement Dreams," Neal’s first LP stands up ten years down the line, an acoustic record with fragments of instruments interwoven delicately together. This is where Neil is tonight, with just his voice, an old Martin and a few tales to tell in-between songs. Neal plays stuff like ‘Fell on Hard Times’ with ease - it still sounds fresh, as does ‘Just Getting By’. The Hazy Malaze number seems to lack the full band effect but it's quickly followed by an excellent rendition of Ronnie Lane's ‘Debris’ from the ‘Return in Kind' covers album. Neal then plays some stuff from the forthcoming album - a new one with the line ‘Your love is just enough’ is melodic with an air of melancholy running through it, and it goes down a storm. If it’s anything to go by what’s on the new forthcoming album, then small venues like this are going be a thing of the past for Neil. The evening ends with Neal doing a couple of encores and telling us he appreciates us, and you believe it because he’s passionate throughout the evening and you can tell he lives it, he wants to be there. Its been one of the best gigs I've been to in awhile and I get out a lot. Thanks to Garron Frith, Danny, George Wilson, Neal Casal and promoters Popart for a great evening. | | Nickel Creek – The Arches, Glasgow – 17th February 2006
Review by Mike Ritchie
They’ve described themselves as a “sort of high energy chamber band” and that’s general enough to prevent an exclusive folk or country or bluegrass tag being stuck on them. Regardless of title issues, the platinum selling, Grammy winners are certainly crowd pleasers with a mix of well-rehearsed arrangements that don’t stifle their creativity. Here they regularly gave way to break-out moments, particularly from mandolinist and frontman, Chris Thile. His playing, like all the band’s members, was superb but he captured the limelight most as he flayed his instrument like a lead guitarist from a heavy rock group without the high decibel aggro. In quieter passages - not always possible in this venue with trains rumbling in and out of Central Station above – he caressed the strings to merge seamlessly with Sara Watkins on violin, her brother Sean on acoustic guitar and the ever-smiling and very effective, Mark Schatz playing double bass, who also treated us to a jig as the show came to a close. Tracks from their latest CD release “Why Should The Fire Die?” were prominent: the powerful When In Rome, Best of Luck, First and Last Waltz and the quirky Stumptown, which cleverly phased into Short People, Randy Newman’s ode to the vertically challenged, were the pick.
The vocal mix wasn’t as clear at the outset as it could have been, especially on the harmonies but the sound did improve as the evening progressed before a sell-out crowd. When Sara sang the thoughtful Anthony, the boys gathered round stooping in a comic theatrical way to add backing vocals. It was a nice touch and somehow encapsulated what Nickel Creek do – they play very well, they entertain and they have fun, too. They must operate a no long faces policy with no room for anything dour or sullen. Indeed, their waspish Californian side emerged when they covered the Britney Spears hit, Toxic. Chris hammed it up running his fingers through his hair and Sara’s violin swooped up and down the familiar chords. It was the best cover I’d heard since Clem Snide’s brilliant take on Christina Aguilera’s chart success, Beautiful. They didn’t delve into any Nirvana or Zeppelin, as I had been told they could, but they did a zippy version of The Weight by The Band while bits’n’bobs of classical music peeked through on some other tracks. This is a talented band with no shortage of virtuosity aligned to a desire to make an audience smile - no bad thing, I reckon. | | Buddy Miller – The Arches, Glasgow – 20th February 2006
Review by Mike Ritchie
There’s a gritty gentleness, a finely-honed boldness and maturity with an underlying desire to please about Buddy Miller. In this excellent gig he drove and smoothed his way through a strong selection of country/roots material that certainly impressed the fans gathered here. The quality of his songs – about love, lonesomeness, unity, faith and longing - make it clear why Lucinda, Emmylou and the Dixie Chicks are all fully-paid up members of the Buddy fan club, not forgetting the mighty Steve Earle. In performance, he doesn’t threaten with his sounds. Instead they come at you nurtured, deliberate and complete, whether slow-burning acoustic songs such as the gorgeous Wide River to Cross or the wonderfully fiery and swampy Don’t Wait, both tracks from his acclaimed “Universal United House of Prayer” CD. On electric guitar, the chiming chords raced forth and then gave way to bluesy breaks, chiselled from rocky outcrops. This was evident on the massive Midnight and Lonesome from the CD of the same name with its meaty chunk of chords and echoing vocals. On acoustic guitar, he threaded together gentle notes to which he pinned his various stories, as on A Showman’s Life from the CD “Midnight and Lonesome,” which was request from the audience. It was magnificent, beautifully crafted and achingly delivered, fully deserving the prolonged applause it attracted.
While there was the obvious electro-acoustic balance, There’s A Higher Power, also from “Universal…..” came out of a different mould altogether: the tom-tom style drums could have been accompanying a tribe of Indians sending out smoke signals while Buddy’s gospel-like vocals were commanding although in a calm tone, nothing forced. That is his hallmark – he’s created the songs, brimful of his thoughts and desires, so the delivery seems, for him at least, to be the easy part. In that sense, he’s the consummate singer/songwriter, immersed in his songs and proud of them when the spotlight beams down on him front of stage. He was given assured and thoughtful backing by The Amazing Pilots, Paul and Phil Wilkinson on bass and drums and the three gelled effortlessly as they covered songs from his back catalogue, one by Hank Williams and a couple of Buddy’s co-writes with his oft-mentioned wife, Julie. There’s no substitute for top class musicianship and songs except that they make the evening flash by too quickly. Buddy praised the venue and loved the sound of the trains passing overhead, a first for the venue, I’m sure. But the show was so good the audience didn’t notice them. We await more Miller-time with great anticipation. | | Richie Havens - London, Jazz Café - 13th/15th February 2006
Review by Jonathan Aird
Responsibility is the Ability to Respond.
Richie Havens. Is there, indeed, any more that needs to be said ? An exceptional guitarist; a strong distinctive and honest voice; an inspired songwriter - and that oh so rare thing a brilliant reinterpreter of other people's songs. Stylistically, Richie Havens covers most bases - blues, european style folk, singer songwriter folk, jazzy arrangements, straight pop, world music.
He was in London for 3 dates, and I was lucky enough to manage to get to the first and the last night. Two very different nights, as it it turned out.
Monday 13th : tonight's gig is the first of 3 nights at the Jazz Cafe, a venue which can be adequately described as "intimate". Eschewing food for music I'd opted for a standing ticket. The crowd are mostly of a certain age, and anticipatory. It's a long time until Richie appears, about 9PM, but any resentment at having to hang around for so long soon dissipates. Richie is apologetic for any mistakes he might make, his flight was delayed half the night. Initially accompanied by guitarist Walter Parks, Stephanie Winters (Cello) joins them onstage about half way through the set. This can certainly be called a sub-set of the band on Richie's last album "Grace of the Sun". Amusingly, despite an insistence on no camera's, at one point Stephanie Winters started taking photo's of Richie with her phone camera - quite a bizarre sight !
A more wide ranging set follows than I'd first realised, although it is peppered with songs from the albums Mixed Bag (High Flying Bird, Follow, Just Like a Woman) and Grace of the Sun (By the Grace of the Sun, Way Down Deep, All Along the Watchtower, Woodstock), there is much more - including Maggie's Farm, Love is Alive (a really rocking version - rocking cello, you saw it here first !), Here Comes The Sun, Lives in the Balance and, to no surprise at all, Freedom, performed with dramatic energy in the familiar "Woodstock" mode. Everything is wonderfully played by the whole band - Parks adds some very elegant guitar work over Richie's trademark vigorous style - and beautifully sung. The more high energy songs get the audience bopping, and there is a suitable hush for quieter numbers such as Woodstock.
And amongst the tunes is the talk, as Richie tunes and tunes and tunes until it will be right. If Dylan is famously silent, then Havens is famously talkative, and it suits the man. And what do we learn ? That we are people, and that people are much alike : sharing similar hopes and similar fears. Should this be news to us ? Well, no, but does it hurt to be reminded occasionally of the fact ? That we can live better lives, if only for the next 10 or 15 minutes, until we forget again ?
And we are sent out into the night with "Love, which we have no choice but to take, and can do nothing with but share".
Is this not a man ?
Sum up Richie Havens in three words ? Warmth, Integrity, Genius.
Wednesday 15th : back again for more. Forewarned is forearmed - I arrive a bit later, about two minutes before Richie as it turns out, who walks through the Jazz Cafe seemingly unrecognised by those he passes. Had I realised it this was a premonition of things to come. Excitement built as the place became, if anything, even more packed than the Monday night. There are two announcements that the gig would start soon, and then, at about 9:10, Richie Havens comes on stage. A great welcome, and after a few words he launches into the show. It's perhaps not surprisingly quite a similar set to Monday's - although I had hoped for one or two other songs to be featured. The quality of the music is still wonderful. Havens, Parks and Winters are clearly a well rehearsed team, bum notes just don't happen.
The quieter songs suffer a little from a somewhat inattentive audience, but songs like Love is Alive, All Along The Watchtower, Grace of the Sun (Richie fluffs a line on the second verse - but it works out fine !) really cut through, and Lives in the Balance is a revelation. Freedom is of course a crowd pleaser. And then, after a single encore of Follow it's over, at 10:30.
And I hear those around me saying "fantastic, wonderful". And it was, but...not to quite the same level as Monday's. Richie looked tired as he left the stage. And there had been throughout a couple of niggles - the amplified sound seemed a bit off, and the cafe section hadn't quietened down either - this larger crowd was a far less reverential one. Although the set was similar to Monday's, a couple of songs were dropped, the "chatting and tuning" also seemed briefer too - but there was a nice story of what 85cents used to get you on the Statten Island Ferry : a night of travel and a view of Earthrise at the dawn ! To be fair, though, I had left on Monday night feeling I had been at possibly the best gig I had ever attended - it was that good.
But, all round I felt that things appeared to be a little more rushed. And why was there such a noisy crowd in the front bar toward the end of the set ? Oh, there is a reason for that - The Jazz Cafe has another event starting at 11, and the noisy bar is down to that. The fans of DJ someone or other are not interested in Havens. Their loss is our loss too, unfortunately. Perhaps it would have been a good idea to get Richie on stage at 8:30, that way...ok, I admit it, the set could have been a bit longer... but it would have also have solved the "audience switch-over" problem. | | The Cribs, Giant Drag, Jeffrey Lewis and the Jacks - Manchester Academy 2 - 17th February 2006
Review by Dave Adair
An anti-folk extravaganza was happening before our eyes with the diversely talented New Yorker Jeffrey Lewis backed by his brother Jack on bass and Dave Beauchamp on percussion, treating us to an educating set of freestyle soft rock. The eccentric spirit of The Fall and the poignancy of Leonard Cohen are utilized to devastating effect throughout. The title track from first album ‘The Last Time I Did Acid I went Insane’ that changes every time I have heard it live, takes us to another dimension with Jeff’s 900ish words per minute power ball of life summarizing, striking a chord with fascinated onlookers towards the front.
The psychedelic nature continues into the punk based ‘Time Machine’ from the 3rd and latest album ‘City & Eastern Songs’. Its snappy and frantic flitting makes it perfect for tonight’s crowd. We did not have to wait too long for the trademark low budget storybook production, as Jeff takes us through ‘The Complete History of Communism Part 3’ by embracing the technological age. The pictures are displayed on white bed sheet behind him, put there by the help of PowerPoint. The drawings have lost none of the descriptive simplicity, while damning caricatures of Stalin & Lenin facilitate the didactic process. Never before has the plight of the Russian people been told so succinctly and with such lucid insight. Critics are always saying there is not enough diversity and boldness in music, well with this trio it is here in abundance. Is the music industry open and welcoming enough to harness their full potential?
Continuing the minimalist approach to music making are the industrial sounding power-indie pair of Giant Drag. They combine the instrumental pace and structure of The Breeders and My Bloody Valentine, with a strolling Bjork and the odd tempo lifting nod towards VV Kills style of cherubic front girl Anna. ‘This Isn’t It’ is sung with hearty defiance and propelled by a bolstering drum beat to make for a biting lovelorn display of awareness and defiance.
Tonight, Anna reminds us of how the fine art of swearing to shock has not been lost, if she died her hair blonde she could walk into any theatre and demand the role of Alice in Wonderland with her innocent appearance. So when she starts says things like “Fuck me like my dad” and telling us of a time she was in love with guy 20 years older than her (she was 8 at the time), you truly don’t know where to look. The leading lady’s stage presence is a calm and composed one, illuminated when she castigates hecklers by introducing the punchy ‘Kevin Is Gay’and tagging on the retort “so are you”. Giant Drag possesses enough tightness and boldness to make an impact, if tonight's performance is anything to go by.
Maybe it is fear of not wanting to be dubbed a scenester that sends the pit into ruptures upon on hearing the first notes of ‘Mirror Kissers’, as the Wakefield woe bashers of The Cribs connect with the crowd right from the off. The three Jarman brothers are in their usually exuberant mood, treating us to the delights of ‘Direction’, driven from the thudding base of Ross’ ardent and controlled percussion, matching the sound of the thudding feet on the arena floor.
The bones of punk are hung out to dry on a clothesline of catchy indie riffs that holds together the Sham 69 and football chant crossover vocals in ‘I’m Allright Me’, to make for a boozy Friday night anthem to get lost in. A yearning old offering ‘The Lights Went Out’, gave us all a chance to have a must needed rest and sing along to a yearning pop pearl. The night concludes with the dual vocal approached ‘The Wrong Way To Be’, incorporating a mish-mash of throaty cries from Ryan, punctuated by the ardent spoken vocals of Gary. The latter brother mounted the drum rack towards the end of the song, to pelt out rabid beats and finish a buoyant evening of rock rehabilitation. | | Ryan Adams – Victoria Apollo - 24 February 2006
Review by Mike Short
The last time I went to this venue, I saw the hit musical Bombay Dreams (I still get ‘Shakalaka Baby’ in my head every once in a while – it won’t go away). It is a grand setting for a solo performer, with only occasional help from his friends, but Ryan Adams rose magnificently to the challenge provided by his surroundings. Even though he took the piss out of the place in a suitable manner – “should I be wearing the same clothes every night?” – he clearly enjoyed it, and provided a performance full of theatricality and a quiet drama.
But if the drama was quiet, the man himself was anything but. From the opening strains of Don’t Get Sentimental At Me, a gorgeous new song, Adams’ voice soared above everything else in my mind, piercing and yet totally natural. His voice was beautiful, containing equal parts soul, surf falsetto and songwriter’s passion. Time and again, as Adams picked out a sensible number of songs from most of his albums, I was impressed by how little accompaniment his vocals needed. His most recent album, 29, is not one that I have warmed to, but it struck me that the new numbers he performed tonight seemed quite similar in style to those on 29. If only that record had been more unadorned, allowing the listener to concentrate on the expression of the voice, rather than filling up every song with clutter, it could have been quite remarkable.
But perhaps it is unfair to blame 29 and its producer, Ethan Johns. Adams is developing a Dylanesque ability to re-invent songs when he plays them live; the difference is, you can still hear what the younger man is singing. The soft, delicate acoustic guitar-driven Please Do Not Let Me Go was a world away from the tinny band version found on Love Is Hell, and it was all the better for that. Sweet Lil Gal, slowed down almost to a stop by Adams’ piano chords, never fails to captivate audiences which might skip the song on record. And so went the show, with every song bringing some sense of surprise, relief or pleasure.
Adams had a special guest in tow – Neal Casal. Entering towards the end of the first half, Casal added his acoustic guitar to Adams’, and the result was stunning – Ryan Adams is a competent guitarist, but Casal brought real originality with his finger-picking and interplay. The duo had clearly rehearsed three songs from the Cold Roses album, as Casal added good quality high harmonies to Let it Ride and Magnolia Mountain – again, producing versions of songs which surpassed those on record. Later on, the show seemed less scripted, and when Adams briefly departed from Cold Roses to recall New York, New York, Casal didn’t seem to know which way to turn; he got the chords out, but no harmonies here.
I must confess to shouting loud for my favourite Adams song – the transcendentally depressing Call Me On Your Way Back Home. And following the old-fashioned interlude, and quite a bit of procrastination as Adams strummed his guitar here and there, my wish came true, as he delivered a faithful rendition of the song, with aching bluesy harmonica to cap it off. Throughout the show, Adams switched between his acoustic guitars and the piano, which he played from a menacing sitting position, hunched forward, all crooked back and ghostly fingers.
Next up was Sylvia Plath, played as Sweet Lil Gal was – slow, verging on the cumbersome but never quite falling into that trap. For the patient listener, a real treat. After this, the show became more anarchic – Adams began to ramble happily, telling one (real or imagined?) story about his great-grandmother’s death, freeing himself from the professional shackles he seemed to have imposed on himself in the first half. As singer and audience increased their collective intoxication – his via the booze, ours via the music – the show became less focused, actually not as good musically, but strangely just as entertaining. New songs (such as Two), recent country ones with more soaring vocals (The Hardest Part) and rumbling, rolling classics (The Rescue Blues) mingled naturally and good-naturedly, Adams chatted a bit about the Grateful Dead, and finally, with the help of the harmonies and peculiar hand movements of Carina Round, Adams’ tones softened the blow of the harsh lyrics of Come Pick Me Up, as guitars, harmonica and harmonies combined one more time. Brilliant. | | Beth Orton , Clayhill- Manchester Academy 1 – 22 February 2006
Review by Dave Adair
Legend has it that Clayhill was formed while the two mainstays were under the gainful employment of Alton Towers. The dusty realism that comes through in Gavin Clark’s smoky, effortless vocals has often been heard dominating an acoustic base. Tonight, the trio became a quintet with the double bass element and a stirring piano providing some gusto to the new songs and gives the lurid old guard of ‘Grasscutter’ some musical depth, but is subtly delivered so as not to detract from the earthy feeling conveyed in Clark’s vocals. Clayhill are a band who puts thought into everything they do and this includes song titles. ‘After The Slaughter’ uses the trembling depth given by their double bass element to underline a tormented element and embrace the evolving nature of the world, while the audience appreciates their musical expansion.
Beth Orton has always been an enigma wrapped in a riddle, but tonight she loosened the bow by opening with ‘Rectify’ from her forthcoming album. The deployment of the first person narrative helped to lift the mask of doubt surrounding the songstress, as she looked back with the prosaic poetry of Angela Carter, wishing that she could tipex out mistakes that have been made in life. A slowly cutting acoustic guitar riff seems to haunt the new offerings by providing a clear backdrop for Beth’s thoughtful musing, setting a reflective tone. The familiar side of tonight’s heroine came out in the searching ‘Conceived’ that saw the backing band earning their corn which included some deft percussion. Sliding guitar riffs rise from a gently caressing base to walk hand-in-hand with the bemusement portrayed through soul searchingly sung lyrics.
The influence of Jim and to a lesser extent, Jeff Buckley on the nimble Norfolk lass is evident in the cruise through her ten year catalogue of bitter/sweet musical journeying. It is that bite in her lyrics which emphasises this point, with ‘Stolen Car’ taken from the prize plum of her albums so far ‘Central Reservation’, being a case in point;
“One drink too many and a joke gone too far
I see a face driving a stolen car, gets harder to hide
When you're hitching a ride.”
These lyrics were sung with such comforting intimacy, it was as though Beth was speaking to each of us individually. Of the new numbers on display, the bouncy piano riff in the vein of Jools Holland that came through via the sharp pop song ‘Worms’, stands out and is layered with a country tinge to the vocals to make a snappy synopsis on life. The inclusion of almost autobiographical offering ‘Sweetest Decline’ is a reminder of the hidden power of the meek & mild and, of course, the utterly compelling spirit of a songwriter whose presence enlightening. | | Buddy Miller with The Amazing Pilots and Hayes Carll – Little Civic, Wolverhampton – 27th February 2006
Review by Peter Bate
The walls of Wolverhampton's Little Civic are wallpapered with fading posters heralding the great (The Verve - a steal at £7.50) and the briefly good (Echobelly anyone?) who’ve passed through the Black Country. Tonight, this modest venue is home to one of Americana's more modest artists. Despite plying his trade with Steve Earle and Emmylou Harris, Buddy Miller says he's happy playing to 100 or so punters in a dark, packed room, complete with stage side gent's toilet door. He's particularly taken by the incongruous chandelier that hangs from the ceiling - it's like playing the Fillmore, he smiles. Miller is used to selling out bigger venues in elsewhere in Europe but this rare UK tour seeks to redress the balance.
First, Houston's Hayes Carll warms the Monday-night crowd with a spicy set, relieved to strike a rapport after the previous night performing to a Farnham church hall crowd who didn't appreciate his droll cover of Johnny Cash's "I've Been Everywhere", complete with re-written first verse: "Houston, Houston, Houston, Houston....Wolverhampton."
Miller is flanked by The Amazing Pilots, aka brothers Paul (bass) and Phil (drums/squeezebox) Wilkinson who are back on the road after recent dates with Bill Mallonee and Steve Dawson. The pair are a sensitive foil - offering solid but colourful support to Miller's twangy vocals and gutsy, expressive electric guitar. The songwriter mixes cuts from his Grammy-nominated ‘Universal United House Of Prayer’ album with older numbers and covers (though, sadly, not his chilling 9-minute version of Dylan's “With God On Our Side”). The bluesy garage rock of “Worry Too Much” (written by the late Mark Heard) and “Don't Wait” bounce off the walls along with the playful Louvin Brothers' "There’s A Higher Power" - the CD's black-gospel backing exchanged for the Pilots' wry Belfast harmonies. Miller is just as effective - and maybe more affecting - alone with his acoustic on tender tracks like “A Showman's Life” and “That’s How I Got to Memphis”. Lively audience banter begins early when the Nashville-based songwriter accidentally showers his guitar with beer and ends with a snaking queue to the merchandise table - Carll having to nip to the tour van to replenish quick-selling CD stocks.
As Miller and co succeed in lighting up this poster-plastered shrine to pop fashion, it’s a timely reminder that real quality endures. |
|
|
|
|
Home