Basel, Switzerland - a town of culture, the pharmaceutical industry and permanent frowns. No one smiles in the birthplace of LSD. Basel was pretty, but my holiday was like a trip to a mental asylum. Clinical, regulated and dull. We needed to escape. To Germany.
Freiberg, a beautiful town with great food and smiles, was worth the hour long train journey. Especially as we managed to squeeze in a Broadcast 2000 gig.
Joe Steer, the brains of Broadcast 2000, has been justifiably triumphed by my friends recently. His experimental acoustic jinks, backed by a rare mix of snare drum, violin and glockenspiel, are delightful.
The music of Broadcast 20000 feels more authentic than the similarly styled Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly. Perhaps the lack of electronic mumbo jumbo makesa more heart-warming and personal experience. Songwriters that don’t bombard me with all the crazy shit they find on their music software are in my good books - experimentalism can be all about moderation.
Broadcast 2000’s exposure has been, well, quite big. Get Up and Go is on an Orange advert and on Building Blocks, their tasty mini-album. To whet your appetite Joe has kindly offered my favourite song from the album to holeytonal for you to devour:
“I play drums in Babyshambles but don’t let that put you off.” Good thing it didn’t, because whilst I adore Marmite, I’m not a fan of Babyshambles.
Adam Ficek, performing under the monicker Roses Kings Castles, is a DJing songwriting multi-instrumentalist whose talents would leave any baby in a shambles.
Adam says Bletchley, Milton Keynes, where he was born is an, “odd satellite suburban juxtaposition of a place, it doesn’t quite know whether it’s farmland or city“. This perpetually British suburban conundrum has clearly impacted Roses Kings Castleseponymous debut album.
I admire music that connects with the context in which it is created. Take for example the superb The Imagined Village or Jim Moray - both acts successfully unite British folk and urban music.
Roses Kings Castles initially started as a filler during Babyshamble’s break (see The Sun, The Mirror or the Daily Star for more details). It soon spiralled into much more, and Ficek’s home made Lo-Fi has been received with much deserved praise.
Major labels should know sounds that sell - with rosters full of great artists or at least great assets. So why was I so surprised at a gig featuring two singers signed to Universal and Warner?
Because the two unsigned acts also playing put the big boys to shame.
I don’t care if artists are signed to a major, an independent or are unsigned. Its the music that counts. What does irk me are major labels wasting money on generic muck when there is spectacular talent on their doorstep.
Life In Film
Unsigned Life In Film were one of the bands that deserves the rewards of being signed. Their infectious and unique indie pop could sell many records. Festival crowds will love their sing along choruses, whilst mud dancing to the funky rhythms. Life In Film’s live set did lose some subtlety from their recordings - but add a glockenspiel and problem solved.
Actually nothing was subtle in the Water Rats - you’d have been lucky to hear a 747 if it sat on your face - its stupid and dangerous. I’d still like my hearing when I reach 30.
I’m Sorry, You Don’t Know What You’re Doing
I was instantly put off Doug Walker (Warner) and Gary Go (Universal) - they’ve been manicured into such characterless manifestations of mediocrity that if they chanted their own names in every chorus you still wouldn’t know who they were. A Life In Film track on the other hand could play on the radio and you’d know who it belongs to. We can only hope they get more radio play, especially if they keep on writing songs like I’m Sorry, I Didn’t Know What To Do. If I did tune of the month this exclusive from Life In Film would be October’s flavour:
Apparently I’m of “Generation Y”. This means I’m a geeky yuppie born after 1979. Yeah - can’t complain with that.
It also means I lived through the 80s, but being brought up in Hong Kong I missed out on all the psychedelic British kids TV. Rod Thomas clearly got a fair dose as his video for Same Old Lines shows:
This folkster from Wales played at a few summer festivals, including Glastonbury and Latitude. His music is accessible yet distinctive - I guess what being “Generation Y” is all about - standing out from a crowd of many talented people.
My parents fed me a diet of Tears for Fears, David Bowie and Roxy Music with their cheesy synthetic beats as a side, and you can hear them garnish Rod Thomas‘ songs - although James Taylor is definitely a main ingredient.
Interpretations of music are often revealing, and James Yuill picked out the 80’s from the Rod Thomas sound palette when he remixed Same Old Lines. Oh, and here’s the mp3:
Is anyone else becoming addicted to Born Survivor with Bear Grylls? He eats caterpillars and cuts the heads off skunks. Double hard.
I’ll never be that adventurous, but I’m always up forNew Adventures. Especially ones destined to fill arenas around the world.
The four men of New Adventures began playing together at university, but a piece of the jigsaw was missing until vintage jeans brought Helen into the fold. Jez and Steve were selling vintage clothing - Helen bought some, and the rest is history.
The main obstacle New Adventures face is being lumped with Coldplay and Keane - but once you get over that you can enjoy some delicious stadium rock.
New Adventures will be releasing a second EP, Accidents, later this year featuring the stunning and drumless Never Get Caught, which can be heard on their MySpace. But I have fallen in love with this post’s MP3, try not to sing along:
Serbia’s music has had a strange journey to holeytonal - beginning in Lebanon, via Brooklyn and Hammersmith.
Well it didn’t strictly start in Lebanon, but I fell in love with Gulag Orkester, Beirut’s debut album. I was completely lost in Balkan brass and indie fusion for a year.
Excitedly I introduced Beirut to my Serbian friend in Hammersmith, only for her to say in a mock Balkan accent “its good, but to hear the heart of Serbia, listen to Boban Markovic”
Boban Markovic and his Balkan Brass Band’s music is Serbian to its core. Markovic’s virtuoso trumpet playing and his brilliant ensemble has earned him many awards in his home country, and has managed to garner a world wide following. Besides, any band with a sousaphone deserves to win something.
Oasis even had to postpone a set at a Hungarian festival for 30 minutes, as everyone was watching Boban Markovic. He pissed off the Gallaghers - total legend.
Remember when you listened to the album that changed your life for the first time? It give you goosebumps and made you shiver like you’ve just been possessed - you maybe even wanted to cry?
I haven’t had that feeling since listening to OK Computer, but Wrecking Ball by Dead Confederate certainly came close. Since my previous post about them they have created a musical behemoth which is sublime, beautiful and amazing.
There’s No Need For Prunge
Crudely, this album could have happened if Pink Floyd collaborated with Nirvana, making err, Prunge - no don’t be silly. But it is fascinating to hear Dead Confederate’s influences mix together so seamlessly.
Paranoid About Your Size?
Out of the 10 songs, only three are less than five minutes, and Flesh Colored Canvass holds your attention for over 12 minutes. My friend commented that “if you’re planning on writing 7 - 12 min songs maybe take a leaf out of Radiohead’s book and diversify a little“.
I absolutely adore Paranoid Android, but on closer inspection its just three songs stuck together. Where Flesh Colored Canvass triumphs is through its peaks and troughs, leading to build up only to fade to the ether, rather like the Adagietto from Mahler’s Symphony No. 5.
Can You Hear the Dead?
To fully appreciate Wrecking Ball, don’t put it on whilst doing something else. Give it the attention it deserves. If you don’t you’ll miss everything special about this album.
Now follows, Goner, a track from Wrecking Ball. I know there’s a recession on the way, but you really should buy this album.
There’s not much music I don’t like, but grime? Hmm, still not convinced. One of the only commercially successful alternatives in British hip hop has been Mike Skinner (aka The Streets) but he’s not the only Brit producing hip hop that ain’t grime.
Birmingham, Skinner’s home town, seems to be a hot bed of talented British hip hop artists.
One prime example is FYBA. I’ve been listening to his tunes for a while now. His old school loops have mesmerised me like Barack Obama.
FYBA was formerly in a group with Mike Skinner in the 90s, but now works on his own. But he still seems to be in good company - exploring his top friends on MySpace reveals some brilliant talent, including Vanitee.
Now, enjoy these two MP3s handed down from FYBA to holeytonal. Ooh, and you won’t find Ooh Baby anywhere else, nowhere else.
My colleagues think I lie. They don’t believe I was in Casino Royale. Maybe it shows I have a problem - that despite my recent 25th I’m still just a kid. I’d hope so anyway.
Kids Love Lies - and these kids also love to fuzzy guitar your ears to heaven.
Praise the lord for perseverance - Ellen Murphy answered a band’s final plea for a lead singer and in her they found their messiah. And although this only happened last year, Kids Love Lies‘ raging pixie sounds have been winning plaudits amongst those who know, including Radio 1.
Expect more material early 2009, followed up by a UK tour. As I’m sure you can’t wait that long, here’s an excellent exclusive courtesy of Kids Love Lies for your pleasure:
They have quite a few gigs coming up which you can see on their MySpace, but I’ll see then at the Notting Hill Arts Club on Wednesday 3 December. With my camcorder. Sad, I know.
“Why don’t you post about female artists?” my friend asks. Well I have actually, when I rung about the glorious Bell. Gender, two genders or no gender - I don’t care so long as their music rings true.
So, the fact that holeytonal features more male artists, or bands with male leads, is not the reason for posting about CHEW LiPS. I’m posting about CHEW LiPS because I look like a tit when I groove to their tunes on the tube.
Only 8 gigs old, CHEW LiPS’s 8-bit drone disco and indie fusion has already been featured by Steve Lamacq on Radio 1. Its especially refreshing after Pendulums’ shit but commercially successful dance-rock crossover - I’d even prefer Alphabeat.
Try your hardest not to tap your feet to this excellent tune courtesy of CHEW LiPS - only available to download at holeyontal:
Tour dates include 93 Feet East on Friday 12 September. But I can’t be bothered to go to the far east this week, so I’ll wait until Saturday 27 September and see them at the St. Moritz Club in the West End.
Isn’t it awful asking to hear someone’s music, only to feel like you’re bleaching your ears? To my great relief James Marple’s music was more like a gentle clean.
Under the pseudonymJames and The Jewellery Store, Marples weaves burlesque lined tracks with lyrics encompassing “the courtly-love of the Romantic poets to the dust bowls of 20th Century American Social Realism.”
I met the self exiled Ozzy before I went on holiday, and swung to his tunes whilst sun bathing in a typhoon. There are more songs available for free at his MySpace and you can expect a music video form James and The Jewellery Store at holeytonal soon. For now though, enjoy these gems:
Spontaneity rocks. I read a blog post, featuring a shop, featuring a band, went to the shop, watched the band then wasted money on CDs. Damn! It costs too.
At least it doesn’t waste my time. The Brute Chorus were worth it. Well worth it.
These East London blues punk rockers are on the verge of a brutal worldwide conquest of headphones.
Maroon 5 - who are shit - were supposed to herald a new era of blues rock. Then The Brute Chorus showed up and the new era dawned, bringing with them a great balance of grit and glee, crunch and fluff and madness and sanity.
Reading fantasy is a guilty pleasure of mine, but tells me two things: I want to be taken some place else and that I love all things epic. And despite The Brute Chorus‘ tight musical confines, their sounds are unworldly and their lyrics most certainly epic. Babylonian kings, Biblical saints and Greek heroes are even older than Margaret Thatcher, but the front man, James Steel, sings about them in a way that would even make the Iron Lady attractive.
James Steel says “St. Vitus himself taught me to dance“, so beware, you may get infected with Saint Vitus Dance Disease listening to this holeytonal exclusive:
More tracks, including their new single Grow Fins, are available to download from iTunes or order the Singed 7″ Vinyl from Pure Groove - I bought one and I don’t even have an LP player.
Be sure to join me at their gig at 93 Feet East in London on 14 August.
@TartyTart ah, i don't play online - i know i will never stop. I play with a few friends around London and also in some clubs. Always Fun! 19 hours ago
@stephenfry don't rub it in, its a rainy cold day in London! 2008/12/02
Editing your own copy is a nightmare! grr. 2008/12/02
It may be cold, but at least its not as sweaty on the tube. 2008/12/02
@TartyTart you play poker? cool... welcome to Twitter, and thanks for the follow! 2008/12/02
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