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Pictures from some recent gigs we've hosted:

29 March 2013 - Brixton, London

Viv Albertine, VuVuVultures, Left Leg, Mickey Gloss, Big Wave, No Cars, Arthur Gunn, Simon Love (Pictures)

8 March 2013 - Lexington, London

R.Ring, Golden Grrrls, Slushy Guts and Equinox (Pictures)

On Our iPod

Parquet Courts - Light Up Gold (album)

Antony Harding - Why Do Birds Suddenly Appear (album)

Black Angels - Indigo Meadow (album)

Thee Oh Sees - Floating Coffin (album)

Still Corners - Strange Pleasures (album)

Savages - Silence Yourself (album)

Mikal Cronin - MC II (album)

Can’s Ege Bamyasi played by Stephen Malkmus and Friends(album)

Victoria and Jacob - Festival 7"

Vampire Weekend - Modern Vampires of the City (album)

Sauna Youth - False Jesii Part II 7”

Lightning Bolt - Oblivion Hunter

Robyn Hitchcock - There Goes The Ice (2x 12")

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Gig Review

Haldern Pop 2011: Friday: Okkervil River/ Dry The River/ Socalled/ Gisbert zu Knyphausen/ Wild Beasts/ Johnny Flynn/ Bodi Bill/ The Antlers/ Golden Kanine/ Erased Tapes night

Article written by Richard F - Aug 28, 2011

Wild Beasts

Friday morning saw the annual inspection of Haldern’s bizarre supermarket offerings. As well as the (normal?) chainsaw accoutrements sat alongside the crates of beer and onion sauce packets, this year a knitted bottle warmer in the shape of a poodle with fake diamond eyes, and a large fluffy space shuttle were the objets d’art of choice. Honorary mention must also go to the solar-powered hippopotamus garden feature, the sun’s job seemingly to facilitate a water jet through each nostril; a snip at 50 euros.

Feeling somewhat strange walking round with a large fluffy version of the shuttle (never mind the poodle) we gamely tried to get in the popular Haldern pop bar to see Mathew and the Atlas and Josh T Pearson. And failed. Still, we did see the great JTP’s arrival. Like a frail Old Testament patriarch about to address a congregation on weighty liturgical matters, he stalked up to the bar and with a slight admonitory wave of his hand the dumb hordes parted. This spectacle was possibly better than the gig or so we like to fool ourselves into believing.

A mention should go to Golden Kanine on the Main Stage: a Swedish outfit that are, on this showing, really good in that excitable, Swedish, angsty manner. They’re all so tense and committed; they seemingly play to the verge of ridicule. This we like. They also clang their guitars in a way we like and have a way with melody. The Antlers were up next and proceeded to make merry hell without any concessions to the crowd, something that worked pretty well on the day: it seemed crowd and audience were equally determined to enjoy this Friday.

Meanwhile a splinter group had decided to check out Bodi Bill in the Spiegel Tent. This trio from Berlin trade in smart electro pop that can be a bit too academic and a bit too EMO at times, but when it works and they shake their hips, their music kicks off in a most supreme manner. One of the last tracks in the tent morphed into an updated, funky version of Harmonia’s ‘Sehr Kosmische’, or so it seemed. Johnny Flynn and his guitar picking style presented a soothing contrast to the modern urbanisms of Bodi Bill; we were initially resigned to another parade of winsome songs about something or other, but no, this lad has that ease of manner that comes with being talented. His songs are crystalline dreamscapes that conjure up the British folk scene of the late 60s, or Gravenhurst and Nick Drake. It’s pastoral in the best possible manner, though there’s some end of the pier wistfulness about what he does, which makes us think of Robyn Hitchcock too. After a while the music created a sense of contented calm, irrigating the tent with good and gentle vibes. Along with the “Harmonia tribute track” from Bodi Bill, this gig, for me, was the official start of Haldern Pop 2011.

Wild Beasts - is there ever a band so wrongly named? These are nice lads, gift-wrapped sons-in-law, doing something inspiring, dreamy and gently persuasive. If we continue the Narnia metaphor for Haldern just that little bit longer, then Wild Beasts would be the band the charming, soppy, dreamy faun Mr. Tumnus would play in. Playing a lot of tracks off the romantic and woozy new LP Smother meant that the usual cadences and tempo changes and hints of violence have taken a back seat. The band decided to trade by means of a glossy thoughtful funk last perfected by the likes of The Colour Field, The Communards or Marc Almond. It also helps that the drummer is seriously fucking good (bringing a presence on a par at times with the thump Stephen Morris brought to New Order). The audience, politely impatient at first, just gave in and grooved once they were fully immersed by this wave of smooth charm. Why fight it when you can feel it? A magical gig, but that’s no surprise, really. This lot are that rare commodity in these production-line years, the real deal. Gisbert zu Knyphausen was on the main stage this year, performing with the same intensity as the last time we saw him at Haldern. He looks like he’s had a pie or two, (still skinny but not snappable) and this fortitude of purpose has rubbed into his music. It’s tougher, more rounded. We like Gisbert, he’s got a rock vibe that is pretty mainstream but mainstream in the way that Joe Jackson was. There’s enough there to hold your interest if you understand German, that is.

Factors out of the Spiegel Tent’s control meant the programme was running late, and we missed a fair whack of Socalled. We didn’t feel we were missing out until we turned up to catch the last 20 minutes of their set. On paper the combination of Klezmer and East European turbo folk with North American funk and Soul Food poetry recital sounds like one of those poncey fusion cooking ready meals you walk past in the kind of supermarket chains that have pretensions to be delis. You might dig the ingredients but you sure as hell aren’t sticking it in your mouth. Still, when you see an entire tent going ape to a clarinet solo leading a quicker, very Jewish version of a Clinton work out, you know that Dame Music has merely been toying with you. It also helped that the band looked like a collection of your most whacky and least visited uncle’s mates. And what was going on with the pig glove puppet? A question best left open we feel… As to the performance well, there was everything here: wit, charm, funk, folk, daft acapella takes on what sounded like a Yiddish prayer call, as well as gooey reflections from a girl who could have been your Kindergarten assistant… how can we make this ungainly list sound as brilliant as it was? Finishing on an extended take on the great Fred Wesley’s ‘House Party’, Socalled walked off like triumphant gladiators in the Coliseum. An extraordinary gig and words just cannot do it justice.

Dry The River were mildly diverting and no more. Sure the songs were good, the melodies were well constructed and the harmonies were beautifully delivered. Suddenly we were brought back to the gig with a shock as the band ripped apart their last song and threw it to the Gods of Rock in some absurdly pagan offering. Now this was more like it. Like angry, starving dogs let loose, guitar feedback and thundering drums dementedly tore across the stage and howled ferociously at the audience. What the fuck was all that, and, much more importantly, why didn’t they do that earlier?

Okkervil River seemed to have sound problems, maybe their monitors were bust, maybe they didn’t care, but boy were they out of tune. In some ways - considering all the harmonies and melodic entente the day had so far offered – this brazen cold snap of tuneless vocals and out of synch guitars was very refreshing indeed. Because, boy did they belt out their songs. No fear was shown, only an absolutely devil-may-care feeling prevailed, one that seemed to whisper “stuff it, let’s have fun trying”.

Rival Consoles

Back we trudged through the gloop and glower to the Spiegel Tent to catch the Erased Tapes night. Erased Tapes have a lot going for them, great artists and a strong independent aesthetic, plus a hint of the hippy chin-stroking so often seen at Haldern. Matters began with Codes in The Clouds, a band whose LP As the Spirit Wanes we like a lot. The band began to blast out a set that was much punchier than their album hints at, though tracks like the delightfully skippy reflection ‘Look Back Look Up’ still had its winsome charm intact. Responding to one crowd comment seemed to be part of the fun too; “course we fucking rock, what did you expect?” was one rejoinder.

Following this warm bath of electronic noise something a little more refined was promised: glamour puss Nils Frahm and doe eyed cellist Anne Mueller would, we fervently hoped, recreate large chunks of their brilliant LP, 7 Fingers. Frahm’s gig was the highlight of 2010 for some of us, and this gig should draw on the new direction the LP had promoted. Unwieldy electronic appliances were wheeled onstage, knobs were twiddled and pedals cautiously tested. All was in place and Frahm & Mueller proceeded to play their beautiful and complex music; Frahm’s restless, jack-in-a-box movements contrasting strongly with Mueller’s dreamy vibe. Things got dizzyingly romantic, swirls of noise powered by delay pedals and magnetic tape intertwined and created something magical. Once the gig was over Frahm & Mueller embraced, maybe this had been a strain in making their perfect LP live on a stage. Whatever, it was well worth it from our standpoint.

Finally we had Rival Consoles, otherwise known as Ryan West. West, a thin, ethereal/feral being, stood behind a mixing desk. A laptop stood open. Our hearts sank a little. We like action not staring at someone looking at a screen… Luckily it seems West thinks like us. His slight frame shuddered along with his music, his head violently dipping and swaying, small jerky, jabbing hand movements of mysterious currency sometimes made themselves manifest. It was actually very compelling to watch. And to dance to. West’s music is a mix of anthemic classic club passages and fractured shards of abstract noise and texture that somehow amalgamate to create tough uncompromising dance music that built steadily in power and intensity. Strange shapes were thrown, there was snogging, there was standing around and chin stroking appreciation. There was a bit of lairy lad behaviour too. In other words you could have a bit of everything. Perhaps this aspect summed the entire showcase, as all three acts allowed the audience to react to the music in whatever way they felt like, a rare quality indeed. Security pulled the plug around 3:30 and that was it. What a marvellous day.

Links:
http://www.haldern-pop.de/en/festival