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Thursday, 29 July, 2010
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You are browsing the gig reviews. Check out what was good and make sure you go next time.
Kissy Sell Out Birthday Party, 19th June,
21/07/2009
Kissy Sell Out Birthday Party, Brickhouse, 19th June In my opinion, MySpace is nothing more than a lurid marketing tool for shit bands, middle aged perverts, wonky faced am-dram porn stars, and disaffected emo kids who, like, totally hate their life ‘cos, like, no one understands them, y’know? But marketing doesn’t have to be cold and calculating, as proved by Kissy Sell Out, whose recent 25 th birthday party saw him give his die-hard fans a treat, and take a step over that rarely crossed divide between ‘MySpace friend’ and ‘3D friend that I actually know’. He chose 50 ‘friends’ who messaged him with the best fun thing they would bring along to his birthday party-slash-album launch to be invited along to Brick Lane’s Brickhouse to get involved with the festivities. There were also a further 50 tickets available on the door, giving everyone a chance to come and wish their favourite day-glo DJ a fabulous happy birthday. I got chatting to a couple of teenage girls who had used the guise of three gnomes as a gift to get on to the guestlist. It was shortly after this that I realised that I could have been chaperoning an A-level prom; everyone there was baby faced and just a touch too excitable. But was this an episode of Skins waiting to happen? Were these doe-eyed whippersnappers excitable enough for this to turn in to a Daily Mail style ‘and this is what happens when you advertise a party on the internet’ disaster? Nah, they were all too enamoured with the cheeky Colchester chappy to even consider getting raucous, even when their enthusiasm levels increased 10-fold when Kissy and his band took to the stage to showcase a selection of catchy tracks from his new album, the aptly named ‘Youth’. Later in the evening, guests were treated to DJ sets from Jodie Harsh, Herve, Jack Beats, A1 Bassline, Nero, Sly Fly DJs, Eddy Temple Morris and the birthday boy himself. Obviously, everyone had a great time as everyone there loved Kissy Sell Out. I too had a great time, but that was mostly down to the fact that our host that night provided free drinks, cupcakes and nibbles. Apricotte Gold
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Slow Club at the ICA. 22nd June.
20/07/2009
SLOW CLUB at The ICA, 22 nd June Tonight’s set with Sheffield-based folk-pop duo Slow Club feels like a special occasion. Not just because it’s the launch of their single It Doesn’t Always Have To Be Beautiful , but because the feeling of excitement in the venue is electrifying; not just another London band, Slow Club are quirky and fun, with not the slightest hint of the bored worldliness or scenester nonchalance that can make gigs in the capital dull and stodgy. Rather than settling for taking their places on the ICA’s small black stage, the pair open their set bang in the middle of the doe-eyed crowd; rather than staring at the audience in gaping, gormless indifference, they make sweet musical love to them, interspersing 11 old and new tracks with delightfully giggly banter about whistling and parking fines. The set is off to a flying start as they rip through Wild Blue Milk with such energy and enthusiasm that music suddenly feels like a brand new concept. Playing the best of their eloquent, breezy tunes with a light and often comic touch, the pure and simple fun of the Slow Club song-writing shines through. The gentle humour of the set avoids tipping into farce, balancing nicely with the bittersweet melancholy of slow-burners like There Is No Good Way To Say I’m Leaving You , ensuring a sense of variety that keeps the set alive. The ICA proves the perfect intimate setting for this tour-de-force in touching folk-pop, showcasing the pair’s voices as they rise, part and come together again in sweet and imaginative harmonies. The single It Doesn’t Always Have To Be Beautiful is a thrilling exercise in the way folk should be put together. Swaying and teetering on the healthy side of anthemic, the song slips through thoughts and moods like a knife through butter. Painting a vibrant picture of the most meaningful and the least touching aspects of love, the wry, knowing lyrics intertwine with good-time guitars and spine-tingling, catchy melodies. The crowd hoot their appreciation, and I begin to suspect this song has the rare power to bring a smile to the very stoniest of faces. The pair finish up with Christmas TV , a song now available on their Myspace page, although not on their album (released July 7 th ) Yeah, So. Bringing an inclusive and heart-warming evening to a close, Slow Club play their last track, once more in the centre of the audience. As the crowds disperse and the band depart, I’m left with the lingering sense that Charles and Rebecca of Slow Club enjoyed their evening almost as much as I did mine. Ellie Rose
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Official Soundclash Championships 2009, Bloomsbury Ballroom, 9th June
20/07/2009
The Official Soundclash Championships 2009 Bloomsbury Ballroom, London: Tuesday 9 June Featuring a sick line up of some of the hottest DJs and nights of the moment, the Official Soundclash London was a dead cert to be a good night. Who would steal the crown from reigning champ M.I.A? There was only one way to find out: FIGHT! The teams and their cute, camp and flamboyant mascots strutted on to the stage of the Bloomsbury Ballroom, introduced in turn by the night’s hosts Teki Latex, member of Parisian electro hip hop group TTC, and inventor of the entire concept, and the gorgeous Marawa The Amazing. The atmosphere was already electric and the tournament had not even started! Of the 8 teams lined up for tonight’s battle, my money was on Crookers as they’re my heroes du jour. I guess I really just wanted to listen to Crookers really loud. My wish kinda came true, ‘cos I got to see Crookers (‘and friends’) play 4 songs from their iPod – but it wasn’t 4 songs by them, it was other stuff like Sweet Child O’ Mine – which was still good. Anyway, the crowd and decibel reader deemed that they thrashed Zezi Ifore, Mistajam, Raf Daddy & Brains, so I was pleased I had backed the winning horse, and waited to see if I would get to hear any basey filth in the semis. Ut-ut! I found out later that some members of team Crookers had been KICKED OUT of the venue for smoking backstage! Weakened, they were annihilated in the next round – crooked to the curb! The other team I fancied, Skill Wizard and Shitting Fists, went out in the first heat, which was such a shame, as they were shit hot – and when it comes to metal v disco, there really should be only one winner. Watching their demise made me see I have either inherited my mother’s miserable betting curse (every horse she backs on in the Grand National is shot) or the hip crowd that swarmed around the lit up battle cage were easily bought by Sinden, Martelo, Toddla T & Oneman throwing MONEY – notes not coins, it wasn’t a football match – at them. Nice tactic! The final was a tense one… Bugged Out vs Girlcore, who were fresh from beating ‘Team Fashion’, Henry Holland, Nova Dando & Anna Trevelyan in the 3 rd round (despite the latter playing the mighty East 17’s ‘House of Love’). The mascots wriggled in the booth, riling the frenzied crowds… track after track was thrown down… but everyone knew it was all over after Girlcore chucked on the N*Sync, Bugged Out really didn’t stand a chance! Cue lots of glitter explosions as the Girls claimed their prize. Bad luck Bugged Out! Way to grrrrr, Girlcore! Apricotte Gold
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Peaches DJ set, AITBF, 25th June
20/07/2009
Adventures In The Beetroot Fields Presents: Peaches DJ set, 25th June Warning! Popular myth about to be exposed! Not everyone wants to go to Glastonbury, nor does everyone who didn’t go think sitting in with some crisps and watching it on TV is an acceptable way of spending a an entire weekend. So whilst some of you were off watching Bruce Springsteen, and others were at the Trafalgar Square candlelit Michael Jackson vigil, some of us were grabbing the weekend by the balls and showing it not ‘who’s bad’, but ‘who’s boss’. Down in Elephant and Castle’s Corsica Studios, the Adventures In The Beetroot Field gang presented Boys vs Girls, a room against room battle for aural supremacy. The boys’ line up was co-curated by Hot Boy Dancing Spot and Blogger's Delight, and featured The Lovely Jonjo, Joe and Will Ask, and the AITBF residents, Casper C and Stopmakingme. DJing for the girls side was Miss Odd Kidd and Girlcore's Naomi, who is no stranger to turntables of success after clinching the London Soundclash title last month. Oh and Peaches, the queen of electro. It was obvious she was going to kill it after only a few moments on the decks. I never suspected there would be any other outcome. It’s like turning up for a pub football match with Cristiano Ronaldo as a ‘spare’. Man, woman, bouncer; everyone at Corsica Studios was drenched in sweat as she put people through an aural assault so relentless that I forget my own name. Taking to the stage in some sort of inflatable leotard, she delivered a selection of the latest and greatest dancefloor bombs, a sprinkling of Slayer and a lot of Michael Jackson. Boys – nil Girls – nil Peaches – winner! Kara Simsek
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Tignes Fest 2009. Val De Saire, Tignes, France. April 16th - 19th.
03/07/2009
I was on a mini, mini bus, winding through the Tignes region of France, thought to be one of the highest mountain ranges in the world. As the oxygen left my head and we reached heights of 10,000 feet, I noticed that our mini-bus was winding up roads alongside snow drenched mountains without barriers to stop us plummeting to our death, travelling through stalactite coated tunnels along the way, designed to protect our puny man-made machines against the forces of mother nature; if she gets angry and decides to spew an avalanche onto us that is. With all this in mind, we passed one resort, followed by another… ’how high are we going’ I pondered worryingly, my arse twitching as I took a cheeky look down, breathlessly taken aback at the stunning landscapes. And then we arrived at Val de Saire, the highest of the resorts, for the ever-growing Tignes Fest - a low-key festival, now in it’s second year, that celebrates music, skiing and good hedonistic times. And the best part was that it was totally free (apart from the skiing, of course). As with all Skiing holidays, the self-contained world of ski resorts are notorious for their high prices of beer, food and accommodation. So it came as a welcome surprise to many of the younger crowds who habitually frequent the area, to find outdoor stages that proffer up the best in cutting edge bands and DJs from across the world. By day, dwindling crowds, up for it thrill-seekers and even bemused oldies on quiet breaks were treated to bands such as the electro pop rap of Black Peter Group, the rock inspired breaks of Eddy Temple Morris and Tom Bellamy’s The Losers (pictured, top right), and even the soft, tortured troubadour stories of Scotsman Ryan Lauder. Huddles of people gathered in the blizzards outside shops (a mental French Woman callously pushed people from out her doorway in a blazing fury) – all the while sipping on mulled wine and appreciating the unrivalled scenery, soaking up the strange but unique vibe in which the varying musical upstarts were playing. With the crowd capacity more like 20-30 strong (rather than a thousand), it added a lacking atmosphere to the crowd, many people static and expressionless. Probably to be expected in such a unique and unspoiled setting, but Tignes Fest is about something different; about waking up and stepping onto your balcony and watching skiers slide around below you; about chilled coffee’s and beers in the bar; and about mixing a normal holiday with a touch of stardom. Artists and crowds mingled and mixed together without bureaucratic rules, no security apes keeping the two separate – usually present at the majority of over-zealous and sponsorship-saturated festivals. In the evening, the crowd switched into the cavernous and sweaty haunt of the one and only discothèque, which offered a nightly dosage of electro, breaks, glitchy house and dubstep. There were memorable sets from French Electro wizards Paral-lel, A banging set from Beni G of Jackbeats and Kissy Sell Out doubling up, and a rather disappointing and anger filled shambles from Frankmusik, who was suitably booed out of the venue (for not being able to DJ) and spent the rest of the weekend wandering about looking pissed off…on his own. And to the last night, with The White Wedding crew. For those who don’t know, they are a bunch of comical upstarts who travel around with their mobile trashy-wedding party. We’re talking fake Cava, Pink Wigs and gold dresses adorned with the worst hits of the Eighties. And, and of course, an Elvis impersonator. Not much can be said after consuming my own body weight in booze that night, but I remember feeling like a cross between a young page-boy on his first beer and a giddy girl from the Grease film set. I awoke next morning with a terrible hangover and the horrible feeling that a coach was waiting for me outside to take me home to the shit-tip that was London – minus snow, Frenchman and beautiful scenery. The Tignes Fest was over – although I still have a sneaking suspicion it will grow from strength to strength, and will make a dashing, extrovert return next year. Au revoir Tignes Fest; it’s been fun.
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Beach Break Live. Port Lympne Safari Park. June 16th - 19th.
25/06/2009
Poor bastards. With only a week to go before their festival, the organisers of Beach Break Live were hit with the bombshell that their entertainment licence had been refused by Cornwall council. They found themselves driven out of Cornwall by a group of pitchfork-wielding bumpkins whose Taliban-like disgust of music and fun is part of a broader movement to ensure the uninterrupted slide of our coastal towns into decay and abject obsolescence. To judge by this decision, you might think Beach Break Live was some kind of Bacchanalian orgy of ear-drum-shattering hedonism which leaves the region strewn with raped corpses, beheaded livestock and mountainous piles of human faeces. With that in mind, Notion rushed down to the hastily-assembled replacement site at Port Lympne Safari Park in Kent to see what all the fuss was about. The initial reaction was to wonder how this perfectly pleasant bunch of middle-class kids could offend even the tiny minds of the rural southwest. Beach Break Live is a student-only festival and most of the attendees looked utterly exhausted by the past nine months of occasional lectures and eating beans, and had simply wandered near the main stage and collapsed. They lay there, burning in the afternoon Sun, telling the sort of irritating stories about someone vomiting into the common room dustbin that students love to tell. Some valiant efforts to recreate the festival’s beach-based premise bore the hallmarks of the panic that must have gripped the organisers in the preceding days. A pile of sand with a sign saying ‘beach’ only served to remind us that we were very much in a field in Kent. But at least the Sun was out, and the main stage exhibited the sort of inoffensive indie-pop that sounds great to this demographic, if entirely forgettable to the rest of us. A few people were able to rise from their slumber long enough to bounce around to bands like Red Light Company and VV Brown. Out of nowhere, Notion found itself blown away by Delphic whose early evening slot of frenetic indie disco had the sort of effortlessly catchy fun that you need to get a festival going. With a boot planted up their arses, the grubby little tykes started their descent into the hazy chaos that is every good festival. If much of the music was fairly stock, no one seemed to care particularly. Scattered through the next couple of days were some big shows from The Zutons and Dizzee Rascal, and that was satisfying enough. Mercifully, despite the suggestion in the name, this was nothing like the American Spring Breaks you see on MTV in which a bunch of massive tossers drink tequila out of each other’s anuses and whoop incessantly. Beach Break Live launched a couple years back on the interesting premise that it was set on a beach. Without that, it’s just another field full of drunk people. But, hey, if anyone else knows how to set up a festival almost from scratch in the space of a week, then they’re better placed to complain than me. Let’s just hope the joyless morons of this world don’t screw things up next year. Eric Randolph
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Sony Ericsson W995 Walkman Phone Launch Party. 10/06/09
19/06/2009
Notion magazine was lucky enough to be invited to the launch party for the W995, the all-new singing, dancing, big camera, big-memory, big-hitting phone from Sony Ericsson. The night was in a jazzy basement bar Calle Pigalle, on Picadilly. Typically for Notion, circumstances conspired against us, along with those bloody whingers at the underground. As if 30k for standing around and 41k for pressing an accelerator and a brake all day isn’t enough, whenever they feel aggrieved, they bring the capital to a standstill and beads of sweat to the brows of intrepid Notion reviewers. I have no qualms saying that they’re a bunch of tossers; they made me take 1hr45mins to do a 25 minute journey, and I missed Tim Minchin’s first song. Not to worry, because the rest of Tim Minchin was side splitting and, indeed, so was the rest of the night. He impressed with how well his jokes came across live and what a sense of bravado he brought to the entire proceedings. The only bad point was how little time he got. He was swiftly followed by Alice Russell who sung a collection of covers from infamous artists. Though her voice was beautiful, I was disappointed not to hear some originals having never heard her songs before. Oh well, there’s always next time. Salah, up next, was the winner of the French ‘Britain’s got talent…presumably, ‘France’s avez talentes’(?). With an emotive and comedic mix of bebopping, bodypopping and breakdancing, he soon had the crowd whooping with delight. Then, last but not least, Ed Byrne, the entire night’s MC had a quick stand-up set. Both witty and on point…he didn’t miss an opportunity to work with and off the audience. The crowd was obviously enamoured with him, and one would hope that the phone was as safe-a-bet as he is for a good time. He was both charming and modest. However, the star of the show was the Sony Ericsson W995 itself. Lucky enough to receive one, Notion can tell you that the phone is polished, attractive and packing so many features that we fear we may miss some out here. It packs an 8.1 Mp camera with LED flash and all kinds of tagging, detecting and capturing gizmos; an 8Gb memory card as standard, stereo speakers, a walkman with shake control and SensMe and, wait for it, a 3.5mm audio jack. Finally, a Sony Ericsson Walkman phone with what should be the most simple of outputs. Next time you’re in the Carphone Warehouse, ask the bods to show you one. Ed Breakenridge
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Download Festival 2009. June 12th - 14th.
17/06/2009
As rock hardness goes, Download would be something like chalk. Looks good – e.g. cliffs or algebra or elaborate signs outside an off license – but ultimately, it crumbles. It’s not hard. Chalk might be a mineral, not a rock. I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking about that when I was there. I had a chalky time, but I wasn’t board! This year’s festival gave rockers and metal heads old and young plenty to be excited about. For the muso-rock nerds there was Dream Theater with their very own guitar hero John Petrucci, and for the general nerds/stoners/spotty virgins, Dragonforce who are most famed for having a song appear on Guitar Hero. Many people (read tragic losers) even took the chance to Guitar Hero-along to the songs from the game as the real band played the real version (on a real instrument) on the stage. Maybe I’m the crap one for thinking it’s pathetic. Another reason to get excited – other than the Guitar Hero stand where you could go and play the game and infront of some dude that looked like Mickey Rourke – was Faith No More who performed for one of the first times in 11 years. Another band making a welcome return was the mighty Limp Bizkit. Fred and co proved to be many people’s highlight of the weekend, and provided a fun singalong for Friday afternoon. Love ‘em or hate ‘em, chances are if you were at Download you watched ‘em – if only to shout at Fred Durst that he’s a twat. The bands on offer covered a huge spectrum from the 70s to today. There was a fair amount of nu-metal on offer, from Korn to Static-X (neither one of them performed particularly well) and Saturday’s headliners, Slipknot. Sadly I can’t confirm whether they inhaled a dead crow so they could vomit all over themselves (well, within their masks) like in ‘the old days’ – let’s hope they did. They certainly still know how to annihilate a willing audience. Warming up the sea of black t-shirts (and horrendous sunburn) for them was old Brian Warner, aka Marilyn Manson. The guy should go on a diet, jump on a sunbed and stop singing about swastikas. Simple. Sunday was a relaxed affair, with 80s power rock stalwarts Def Leppard topping the bill, with a little help from Whitesnake, the mighty synthtastic Journey (cue second biggest singalong of the weekend to ‘Don’t Stop Believing’) and ZZ Top. The power metal theme spread throughout the event’s four stages, as bands such as Steel Panther and Jett Black picking up the hairspray shaped baton. Many agreed that this was the best Download yet – and let’s not forget that Kiss played last year. Maybe it was the perfect weather; maybe it was the appearance of some old forgotten favourites; or maybe it was just because everyone was drunk and easily pleased. Apricotte Gold
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Stag and Dagger. 22/05/2009
29/05/2009
As if the dickheads of London didn't have enough reason to pollute Shoreditch already, along came Stag and Dagger 09. If I thought I could get away with it I would have rebranded it Stab with Dagger and turned it in to a competition - slash someone with an American Apparel hoodie, 5 points; slice open a man wearing skinny jeans like leggings, 7 points; garrotte man with 'trendy' beard and glasses with no lenses, 10 points; gouge out eyes of girl with peroxide hair and sullen red mouth, 3 points, etc. But I’m not a demented sadist, I’m a journalist, so with heavy heart I made haste in to the heaving throngs of bland indie-types who had scraped together £18 to run riot through EC2 and catch a selection of suitably trendy bands and DJs at the same time including Dan Black, Skull Juice, Casper, N-Type, Andrew Weatherall, White Denim and Crystal Fighters. This was S&D’s second outing in the city, and even bigger than last year’s as Vibe bar, the Spread Eagle, Macbeth, 93 Feet East, Legion, Last Days of Decadence, Bar Music Hall, Queen of Hoxton, Jaguar Shoes, Horse and Groom, Favela Chic, Catch, Electricity Showroom and of course ‘trendy twat HQ’ the Old Blue Last, flung open their doors to sullen scenesters all looking forwards to being seen - and most importantly being seen looking scene. Jack Penate headlined the stage at Cafe 1001, whilst at Catch Isa GT, Thunderheist and Bisoux Bisoux appeared, along with CSS front woman Lovefoxxx. Sadly, I missed JP and Lovefoxxx as I took the advice of a ‘friend’ who urged me to, “get to Cargo, NOW!” Upon arrival, I was aghast at the crowd of people surging against a human wall of bouncers that had formed across the entrance to the dance floor. People shoved and grabbed at one another trying to get through; whatever was on the other side of that heaving snake of hipsters MUST be great. Wrong! Eventually we sneaked in around the back only to be met by the dire droning of Evan Dando. I would have put on point-tastic outfit (*see first paragraph) if getting out of there in a bodybag would have been quicker than begging the bouncers to let me leave. Really, WTF. Next stop – final stop – was Herbal for Rusko. As if he read my mind (*see paragraph 1 again), he ‘fucking killed it’ - after an hour of him there wasn’t a whimpering little prick in sight. Stag and Dagger, see you next year. Identikit morons of East London, see you tonight - and every other night, for you truly are the bane of my life. Apricotte Gold
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