Jeffrey Lewis and the Junkyard, Brighton’s Sticky Mike’s Frog Bar, 22nd August 2011
Sticky Mike’s Frog Bar is a terrible gig venue. The name changed recently from The Jam. The change of name has made it no less shit. Shit, I tell you!
Jeffrey Lewis and the Junkyard was sold out. This is a really sucky situation at Sticky Mike’s. The first four rows were filled with tall people. Is big hair in now, or what? By the time I arrived, punter positions with any kind of view were being defended to the death. As Jeffrey noted, only the first two rows could see more than a fragment of face. The rest of us could simply hope for an extreme event, which might lead to a full line of sight. I didn’t have my machine gun with me. Without putting anyone’s nose out, I managed a third row position at the very far edge of the stage. This, for Madame Fabpants, is poor. Poor, poor, poor.
The man blocking much of my view didn’t even know who Jeffrey was. Annoyingly, he took the role of a loud commentator at a curiosity fayre. Every time he turned to his friend, to share yet another banal observation, his mouth sat just in front of my face. Ya boo. It may have been a pretty mouth, but the sound that came out ruined my general auditory experience. Boy, I'm such a grouch!
Feet ahead maintained a defensive position throughout. No one brought their crowd dispersing weaponry. The line of sight never improved. A mid-height gal, like me, could merely crane for more than a head shot. On occasion, I glimpsed a travel battered guitar. It was worth it. For the band told a tale of failing - for the first time - to sneak the guitar, and all its stickers, onto an aircraft cabin and the inevitable injury that followed. The hold is no place for guitars, bikes or anything that isn’t rock hard or fabric.
Jeffrey looked like a man who had been out of touch with the Western world for a while. Yeah, he often looks a bit that way, but there are extremes. A tour of dice dens, where no one knows who the hell you are, and the songs say nothing to them about their lives, will do that. The Royal Pavilion dictates that all tours of the Far East should include Brighton. China, South Korea, Brighton, then home. It worked out beautifully for us.
Jeffrey was so very pleased to be back with his fans, he was on cracking form. For the most part, the shit tunes, where Jeffrey does the ‘band thing’ with Jack, were out. When Jack tried to get Jeffrey to stop his storytelling (leave it alone Jack!), Jeffrey just continued. And uncurtailed, our man from the East (side) drifted into playing a couple of ancient songs he made up with a Korean chap, with Korean words to boot. They were a delight to behold. After trying to put the brakes on, Jack realised the wires had been cut, and – for me – this is perfect. I like Jeffrey Lewis in unadulterated wandering minstrel form. That’s why I usually prefer his solo gigs.
I have a feeling, the album out in October, A Turn In The Dream-Songs, could be Jeffrey’s best since 2003. I have high hopes. A couple of the songs sounded truly great live. The new tracks played, that I can recall, include ‘Time Trades’ (an inspiring call to make the best of your life), ‘Cult Boyfriend’ (a charming song informing us that Jeff is amazing to a few girls, but not many), ‘Mosquito’ (a silly song evidently inspired by fighting off a lot of mosquitoes), ‘Water Leaking, Water Moving’ (yeah, water does that, and Jeffrey has taken note).
The band opened with White Riot, just after the UK riots, with no commentary to explain the obvious link, and rolled straight into the excellent Cult Boyfriend. I loved the medley of new and old, I revelled in the diversions and the even the covers were charming. Jeffrey was so surprised to be called on for encore; he played an extra handful of old favourites to see us home. Shoot the head, kill the ghoul. Yeah. I’m gonna shoot some heads if I ever have the misfortune to see another great act at Sticky Mike’s.
Fabpants Recommends:
If you didn’t know that Jeffrey is also a comic book creator, check out this video combination:
The day-to-day, same-old-same-old, yawn-yawn-bore-bore.
Another war, another loss, that creaking joint, that breaking point. It’s as much as we can do to stick to the routine. Oh, how the revelling spirit is subdued.
YEAH! But there are battles worth fighting. YIP YAY YEAH! Come on! Bring it on!
THIS I refuse to leave behind. You say I can’t go upstairs. Fuck you. I will NOT stop going upstairs.
The children of the Summer of Love have retired. How they ache for fun. The acid-capped veterans of 1989 see their mid-years in the mirror. How they ache to re-live their specious, but not too distant memory of fun. FUN, through the doors of perception, is almost at arm’s reach. Stretch a little. Reach some more. FUN! Break down the doors. Look, WAHEY MAN, it’s in the palm of your hands. EFFING GENIUS!
We want more FUN. We want more FUN. We refuse to give up. YIP YAY YEAH! Watch us go.
Such diligence attracts attention. “What is it that keeps ‘em going back for more?”, they ask. What is it about standing in a field, squinting at a person shaped dot, dancing to music filtered through that tremendous roar of drunken chatter? Oh yeah, that’s what it’s become to some. BUT, it’s not all it ever was. Far from it. AND, it’s not all it is today. BUT, it has become TOO MUCH.
Festivals grew up with us: me and you. The weekend escape from the yawn-yawn-bore-bore. A little explosion in the brain. The seasons of love linger. Well, they were amazing, weren’t they? The pilgrimage goes on.
Where pockets rattled with pennies, sponsorship followed.
“What is this they said?” “There is money in them fields,” they said. Beer, stages and an empire of mean fiddling festivals, branded by greed. Mainstream acts in exchange for product placement. The promise of reaching a fun-fuelled market. Advertising. Youth. Status. Money. Does a fear of missing out lead to the promise of an unfulfilled life? If the market aint right, change it. Make ‘em want it. Give it to ‘em good.
Be gone with those stereotypes of yore. Be gone fabulous freak fuckers, brain damaged by litmus paper, listening to weird shit in a field. You have no money and the concept of advertising is wasted on you. ‘Ello mainstream. ‘Ello technology. ‘Ello security. Be gone to chaos. Be gone to returning home to culture shock. And year by year, THOSE looks ebbed with the tide. You know the ones. You dirty, naked, drug taking, scrounging hippy. Them. Those looks. They went. We don’t return to them no more. Naaah, Carol’s sister was there too you know, drinking tea in a tent where she chatted with a wannabe Tory politician. The pre-naughties cries of “Acid! Es! Coke! Speed!” are long gone.
The masses that missed out on the monumental years have passed the stage of peeking through the curtains. Now they take part. They’ve made it upstairs at last. Along with giant TV screens, film crews, security guards, mobile phones and charging points.
The landscape of life CAN adapt to my will. Boutique camping, reformed bands, family-friendly intentions and onsite taxis. Hello Stannah chair lift. Take me up that hill. It will soon be easier to be onsite than to stay at home. Jetpacks branded with Golden Arches, from luxury beach hut to arena, optimum position to shout over retro-bands, urine collected at source and shit recycled as food. It is a festival you know. We like to be green.
A weekend of wearing plastic bags sandwiched between a pair of socks and monumentally mud damaged trainers has GONE. Nettles in your hair and a dock leaf up your arse. That’s so yesterday. The giant screen is where it’s at. Festival: a field to watch the box in. Close ups of stars and idiots in the crowd IS everything.
Lowbrow bollox. “We’ve gone and bloody done it,” they said. “We’ve alienated the swots and the musos.” A lost MARKET!
So, in steps Latitude. La de fucking da. Latitude with its Radio 4 attitude. Afternoon Play, Book at Bedtime and some rather good comedy, don’t you know.
Hoorah and hooray. An event for theatrical types, the literature lovelies and musos. Keep out the riff raff. Get robbed by the riff raff. Taste the culture.
Well, that dream ended fast. The Pet Shop Boys came, Radio 4 went and Vodafone built a watchtower. Enter stage East - the mainstream moneyed and the super-fete. A mass grave of talented curators is hidden in the woods of Henham Park.
Yeah! Rant on you crazy charcoal. The eternally optimistic went anyway... Optimism rules. You NEVER know. It was lovely. It was fun. Not FUN, but fun. Okay, it rained, and it poured, and the line up lacked innovation, but treats could be found. My highlight? Bimbling about in the early hours with mates.
In conclusion, the super-fete needs jam. Blue jam.
Dig up those curators. They make tasty Blue jam.
Rating system (from very best to very worst):
Fucking Awesome, Ear Candy, Thumbs Up, Not for Me Thanks, Hideously Awful
*** Thursday 14th July, 2011 ***
Soldier-A & Intensi-T
Poetry Arena Thumbs Up (5/10)
Two young lads from Norwich! Excellent beatboxing. Not so sure about the rapping. They evidently love their music.
Mr B The Gentleman Rhymer
Poetry Arena Ear Candy (7/10)
Mr B should open every festival. His posh mockery of rap is rather fun old chap. The middle section was a bit weak and lacking in hooks, but it was jolly spiffing all the same.
*** Friday 15th July, 2011 ***
Avi Buffalo
The Word Arena Thumbs Up (6/10)
Ahh, Avi, the star of 2010. What’s happened to your voice? Avi struggled to hit the high notes and it really interfered with the set. A new gravelly number seemed more in his comfort range, and was rather good. So what’s going on with Avi? A cough da cold? Too many unfiltered smokes? Maturity? I was so excited to see Avi, a 6/10 is somewhat disappointing.
Edwyn Collins
Obelisk Arena Ear Candy (8/10)
Before Latitude, I watched the BBC programme about Edwyn’s somewhat triumphant recovery from a major stroke. He may not be 100% functional, but he is 100% charming. It was a lovely set. Even his boy sang a number, and was pretty damn good.
The Phantom Band
Sunrise Arena Ear Candy (7/10)
Melodic folk rock in the woods, I won’t say ‘No’. The Scots pulled it off with down-to-earth enthusiasm.
Yann Tiersen
The Word Arena Ear Candy (8/10)
Wonderfully atmospheric ambient delights. Great musicianship, great harmonies, great samples and an oddly placed violin solo mid-set.
GroupLove
Sunrise Arena Fucking Awesome (9/10)
Beards and smiles all round. The last gig of the tour and a good ‘un at that. Summery sounds in a summery setting.
Still Corners
The Lake Stage Ear Candy (7/10)
The Lake Stage has always lacked presence as a focal point in the Latitude grounds. This has been worsened by the fact that it’s now a thoroughfare for a new bridge. The people that used to sit and watch the Lake stage, now watch people toing and froing instead. More people should have seen The Still Corners make sweet melodic tunes and boast emotively pretty vocals.
Bright Eyes
Obelisk Stage Ear Candy (8/10)
Initially, I had concerns. The set might not be as good as the Glasto one. It migh tarnish the memory. It was different. Conor seemed more at home and at ease, and it worked in his favour. By the end of the set I was genuinely moved. It was lovely. Conor seemed humbly charmed by the adoring teenage girls that flocked to shake his hand.
The Vaccines
The Word Arena Fucking Awesome (10/10)
The young kids that climbed the tent poles for a better view, and briefly stopped the set, should be well-chuffed. That is one to be forever proud of. What an ace set. My only criticism is that, because I was with pals, I wasn’t close enough!
Cats Eyes
Sunrise Arena Fucking Awesome (9/10)
This was magical. It would get 10/10 if the sound engineer hadn’t ballsed up at the start. Fortunately, Farris spotted the error, and the choir was 100% worth remembering to mic up. Cats Eyes boast an amazingly intoxicating sound and truly impressive vocals. My heart was torn apart and stitched back together again by this sonic beauty.
Brigitte Aphrodite
Poetry Arena Ear Candy (7/10)
She’s a charmer! A one-woman musical comedy.
*** Saturday 16th July, 2011 ***
James Vincent McMorrow
The Word Arena Thumbs Up (6/10)
Dark skies attacked earth with water bombs. People caught in the action headed for the Word Arena. The tent was full of tourists, some paying due attention and some chattering the morning away. It didn’t create the atmosphere that the music fan requires. After a great struggle, I managed to squeeze myself into viewing position. There, I discovered a young man and his band presenting some warmly gentle tunes.
Shaun Keavenay
Cabaret Arena Thumbs Up (6/10)
Shaun came out dressed as Freddie Mercury and demonstrated easy going wit and charm throughout. I liked the way, seeing himself as an amateur professional, he was slightly understated. Everyone wanted him to succeed.
Bryony Kimmings: 7 Day Drunk
Cabaret Arena Ear Candy (7/10)
I was absolutely captivated, even though I had a poor view of the video screen. The screen would, at interludes, show a recording of Bryony kept in a drunken state for several days, in what appeared to be a hospital setting. A female volunteer was invited up on stage to drink a pint of vodka with Bryony, as she delivered the show, which involved costume, storytelling and interaction with her guest. Bizarrely entrancing.
Villagers
The Word Arena Thumbs Up (6/10)
Extremely well delivered indie-folk, but a touch too saccharine for me.
Rumer
The Obelisk Arena Thumbs Up (6/10)
The sun came out and Rumer’s Karen Carpenter-esq voice welcomed it to Suffolk. She was older than I imagined and not at all dour: quite the opposite.
Fight Like Apes
Sunrise Arena Fucking Awesome (10/10)
The men of Fight Like Apes came on stage in body suits, which looked stupidly amazing. Mary-Kate got the microphone entangled in her clothes twice. And it wasn’t just me, they also thought their last Latitude gig was one of the best ever. I loved them, the crowd loved them, and Mary-Kate’s adventures over the barrier ended the set perfectly. Fight Like Apes make a gig a party: a fantastic party.
Double Science with Robin Ince and 2 Mad Scientists
Literary Arena Ear Candy (7/10)
Edutainment, eh? I thoroughly enjoyed it. I can’t remember what I learnt, but there was a big bang that made me leap off my chair.
Paulo Nutini
Obelisk Arena Thumbs Up (6/10)
I enjoyed the bouncy tunes, and the parents dancing with their little ‘uns. I didn’t like the sickly slow songs. Not my scene.
Moshi Moshi DJs
Lake Stage Ear Candy (8/10)
Most of what I heard was brilliant!
*** Sunday 17th July, 2011 ***
Anna Calvi
Obelisk Arena Ear Candy (7/10)
She is a dark lady, with a fiercely rich voice.
Steve Hughes
Comedy Arena Ear Candy (8/10)
A gas! The guy is a walking advert for “being yourself”. He has evidently put a lot of work into creating a well-constructed, cerebral and darkly funny set. Start accessible, and then drive the audience your twisted worldview, Steve.
Sea of Bees
Lake Stage Ear Candy (8/10)
What an intriguing lady Jules is. Bittersweet campfire laments, delivered with a certain oddity that can only endear. Jules seems to draw the lyrics up from her chest and then direct an enormous amount of facial energy towards delivering them as words.
Adam Buxton
Comedy Arena Ear Candy (8/10)
Does what it says on the tin. Adam presenting YouTube videos, some his own, and sharing the world of YouTube comments in an amusing fashion.
Ghostpoet
Lake Stage Ear Candy (8/10)
I expected Ghostpoet to be on major tranquilizers, drawling cleverly constructed sentences between songs and needing support to hold his body up. He seemed as bright as a daisy. It was quite odd, when mid-song, he tried to entice and excite the crowd a little. So much brooding melancholy in the music and, yet, not how he presents.
Gold Panda
Sunrise Arena Ear Candy (8/10)
Gold Panda wanted to go on and on. In his short set, he created a room of gently bobbing, fly catchers. He builds on sample and beats, with a minimalist but rich style.
Eels
Word Arena Thumbs Up (6/10)
They went for showmanship instead of fragility. Their back catalogue is vast, and I prefer the gentler songs, which demonstrate emotional depth and vulnerability.
"How was Glastonbury, Emily?"
"It was fab!"
"Did you see Beyoncé?"
"No, but I heard her first track was 'Crazy in Love'. I like that one."
"Who was your favourite act?"
"Well, I like to digest the experience as a whole."
And then, the conversation falls flat. Living vicariously through me must be a huge disappointment. I don’t return from Glastonbury, talk about Beyoncé, share televised appearances and connect.
I didn't see Beyoncé, Coldplay, Morrissey, Queens of the Stone Age, The Chemical Brothers, Paul Simon or Mumford and Sons. It's hard to find common ground with the people that watch Glastonbury from the sofa. Well, it is if you're me!
Floundering, I mention seeing reasonably well-known acts, like The Kills, Laura Marling, Janelle Monáe or Bombay Bicycle Club. Glazed eyes generally look back.
Struggling to please, I try to explain the sensation instead of the bands:
"Glastonbury transports you far, far away from day-to-day existence. It flicks away the silly things that most of us - unwittingly - get boxed in by or dragged down by. It's as close as you can get to replacing your soul with a new one each year."
I fail to convey. I sound like someone that believes in the energy of a geographical co-ordinate. I have never used a crystal for spiritual improvement. I have no interest in tarot cards. I don't commune with my lady cycle. I just enjoy a positive experience. Glastonbury Festival offers that. It provides a fantastic combination of entertainment, activity, unusual sights and uncomplicated fun.
I LOVE GLASTONBURY. I love it so much it's ridiculous. It's often the ridiculous that makes me happy. Glastonbury makes me VERY happy! That's what it means and that's what it is to me. I would happily never converse about it in any detail at work or in any other place that boxes me in. It’s not the people, it's the context; rushed conversations between pressures. Instead, I would like to spend the summer, post-Glastonbury, away from the day-to-day, savouring memories with internal freedom, and escaping from the shackles that seemingly never cease to exist outside my mind.
At Glastonbury, I want to go on and on forever. After overeating on a main course of bands, there's a wide choice of pudding. I never get full, despite the numerous courses. I just want more, more, more! I want to amble from adventure to adventure, never missing a moment. Blinks elongate with the threat of sleep, and - reluctantly - I retreat, knowing that I need enough energy to enjoy the first great bands, and yet another glorious day.
Now, not even a week has passed and - already - it seems like a dream. The days of launching legs out of deep sticky mud, just to put them back in again, are gone. By last Sunday morning, extreme heat had miraculously ended the welly yank walk. Mud quickly solidified and became a trancelike memory. With thousands of feet to flatten the land - litter and lost wellies hidden under - the earth soon looked innocent of its recent appetite to ensnare. Rain or shine, the party didn't stop and the spirit stayed buoyant.
In the midst of it all, I saw some bands...
Rating system (from very best to very worst):
Fucking Awesome, Ear Candy, Thumbs Up, Not for Me Thanks, Hideously Awful
*** Thursday 23rd June, 2011 ***
DJak
Tripod Stage Thumbs Up (6/10)
Sweet melodies drawing on a wide range of influences: a little gypsy, a little reggae and some gentle naive political lyrics.
Tragic Roundabout
Small World Stage Ear Candy (7/10)
Gypsy folk, with a ska punch and a gritty wombling hoe down. What a jolly mosh pit.
Mr B. the Gentleman Rhymer
Croissant Neuf Ear Candy (7/10)
He came straight outta Surrey to enjoy the supersized fete. I caught the full set this year. The tent was rammed to the gills. I was very lucky to ease my way towards a line of sight. I even had room to boogie. What a fantastic novelty act to start the biggest party on earth with. Chap-Hop and cricket for the summer then.
*** Friday 24th June, 2011 ***
Cocoon
John Peel Fucking Awesome (9/10)
Chilled, sweet and inspiring. Indie folk from our French friends.
GroupLove
The Park Fucking Awesome (9/10)
Bouncy indie with some great alt.spirit.
The Naked and Famous
Other Stage Ear Candy (7/10)
Their equipment broke, they had to drop a song, the wind was blowing the sound back instead of forth, and dark brooding clouds dropped little globules of spit. Despite all this - by the end of their set - dream-pop conquered.
Emmy the Great
Oxylers in the West Ear Candy (8/10)
The last four songs (I caught them whilst passing) reminded me how great Emmy can be live.
Cage the Elephant
John Peel Not for Me Thanks (3/10)
Their last album is so good and this was so bad. The sound was just hideous and the vocals no better. I walked out not long into the set; it was that bad.
The King Blues
Oxylers in the West Fucking Awesome (10/10)
Tight, engaging, brilliant tunes, fantastic sentiment. I first discovered the King Blues on a Tuesday and by the following Friday I was completely enamoured. I have a back catalogue to learn!
Bright Eyes
Other Stage Ear Candy (8/10)
The cloaked Conor Oberst played a wonderful set and resisted rocking out until the very end. Wonderful poetic lyricism delivered with heart. Conor seems a little shy with banter, but he tried to rabble rouse and it was appreciated. I liked the fact he pointed out where to buy socks and other items in the field. The band was excellent.
Example
John Peel Thumbs Up (6/10)
The room did bounce! It's a shame the delivery didn't touch the quality of the album. Example worked hard to move the crowd, but I'd have preferred less MCing and more singing.
Crystal Castles
The Park Ear Candy (7/10)
It was raining, the ground turned from sticky glue to slop, and wellies could move. Alice Glass, dressed in white, seemed vulnerable instead of wild. Her vocals had a soft fragility. I liked that. They did well in the pouring rain.
*** Saturday 25th June, 2011 ***
The Phoenix Foundation
Oxylers in the West Fucking Awesome (9/10)
"I love the fantastic vibe", someone shouted. Sums it up!
Yuck
John Peel Fucking Awesome (9/10)
Beautiful, fantastic delivery of some delicate fuzzy songs. If they had ended delicately, instead of with feedback frenzy, they would have scored 10.
Dry the River
John Peel Not for Me Thanks (4/10)
Surprisingly dull. I expected more after the EP I heard. Even my favourite song sounded wet.
Graham Coxon
The Park Thumbs up (6/10)
Graham seemed shy on the big stage. It was rockier than I expected, which lost him points.
The Kills
Other Stage Fucking Awesome (10/10)
Mesmerizingly gorgeous. They were far from top of my list of bands to see. I could easily have missed this amazing set. Alison Mosshart was fucking amazing. What style!
The Horrors
John Peel Ear Candy (7/10)
Showcasing some new material as well as some favourites. I liked the fact that new material can ground a band, making them seem less self assured. There again, I missed Farris raising his arms like a god and singing with the force of the devil.
Noah and The Whale
John Peel Ear Candy (7/10)
I came away with their songs rattling around my head, and they were still there when I got home. Unfortunately, a drunken couple really annoyed me (for 30 minutes prior to the set and then during it). I didn't get into this set as much as I could have. It makes it hard to judge. When I moved far away, so I couldn't see the drunks anymore, I started to have fun. The last three songs were great for me! I really didn't like The Queen 'Bohemian Rhapsody' pre-set build up either. Way too cheesy for me. Grumble grouch Fabpants!
Janelle Monáe
West Holts Ear Candy (8/10)
What a stage show! What choreography. What a star.
The Boxettes
Chai Wallah Ear Candy (7/10)
This was impressive. Beat boxing and cappella. I can imagine these girls meeting at school, where a crazy teacher said "Right, you can all sing, but I want you to Beat Box too." I'm no R&B fan, and I wouldn’t buy the music, but it was captivating to witness. I found this little video of Bellatrix (one of the Boxettes) and Marcus Brigstocke: Chicken Versus Duck. It amused me...
*** Sunday 26th June, 2011 ***
The Wombles
Avalon Ear Candy (8/10)
Full grown men and complete Womble suits in a baking hot tent. Remember you’re a Womble! How could I ever forget.
Laura Marling
Pyramid Stage Ear Candy (8/10)
So beautiful, it reduced the girl behind me to tears. Laura, how far you have come since I saw you at End of The Road in 2008.
Bombay Bicycle Club
Other Stage Ear Candy (7/10)
Rather charming jangly indie.
The Vaccines
John Peel Stage Fucking Awesome (10/10)
The Vaccines album is now so adored, a tent of very happy punters sang along to almost every word! The band has learnt to command the stage. From the shy boys at Audio last November, to men that stand on podiums and play fight for the crowd.
Paul Nathan
Cabaret Ear Candy (8/10)
An impressive magician in a difficult tent.
Jeff Green
Cabaret Not for Me Thanks (3/10)
I'm sorry Jeff, but this was plan awful and you know it. Stepping in, on the spur of the moment to do your first set in years, perhaps wasn't the best idea. The Cabaret tent is often full of f-ed up people and you need to be on form. Sexist jokes and jokes about being a dad are just a bit lame. I hope it spurs you on to write some great new material.
Matthew Hardy
Cabaret Thumbs Up (5/10)
It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t hideous. He rose to the challenge of a difficult audience.
Gruff Rhys
The Park Ear Candy (8/10)
I thoroughly enjoyed this set. It was quite enchanting and exceeded my expectations.
Who I was sad to miss...
The following acts gained 8/10 in my pre-Glastonbury scores, but clashed with other fine acts:
I am Kloot, Jenny and Johnny, Summer Camp, Dan Mangan, The Joy Formidable, John Grant.
Why are all the good acts on so early in the day?!
Fabpants Recommends:
I returned from Glastonbury in need of a solicitor to help me sue my old landlords for damages. So, let's sing this together:
The Phoenix Foundation, Brighton's The Hope, 9th February 2011
It was raining; raining hard. The impact formed little dents in my skull. Water fell out of the sky in a desperate rush to rejoin the sea. It hammered ferociously at everything in its path. That's Brighton rain for you. It can strip you bare.
I haven't seen the remake of Brighton Rock. I hear it's quite abysmal: influenced as much by Quadrophenia as by Graham Greene. The brilliance of the original story partly lies in its gritty portrayal of a time, an era, a generation. To undo that is to spit in Graham Greene's face and to irreparably damage the persona he invented in Pinky. Or so I imagine.
Rows of mopeds lined up outside the Duke of York's cinema. The Mods flocked to watch a film so slated that even the local residents couldn't be fucked to follow them. A six-piece band from Wellington, New Zealand, knew no better.
It would appear that The Phoenix Foundation whiled away a wet wintery day at the flicks. In Dolby Surround Sound, they learnt that people in Brighton get stabbed up. Later, they charmingly challenged an audience of ageing indie adults to do just that. "They’re gonna stab us up… We’re gonna get mightily stabbed up," they said, the Kiwi twang grafting gravitas to each statement. They took what they could from the film and turned it into surreal comedy. The audience demanded favoured tunes, threatening deep lacerations if the band didn't acquiesce. A small room of people united in gentle silliness and innocuous threats of stabbing.
If you have seen the film Eagle Vs Shark, you will have heard tracks from The Phoenix Foundation before. They will sit somewhere deep in your psyche. I encourage you to embrace them, bring them into your conscious and learn to love them with joy.
The Phoenix Foundation played a mixture of old and new material, and brilliantly showcased their latest album 'Buffalo'. Momentarily, older tunes stepped a little close to 'middle of the road' rock, but never for long. For the most part, The Phoenix Foundation could teach Mumford and Sons a thing or two. The Phoenix Foundation has been around too long to lace lyrics with glib sincerity.
Samuel Scott, Lukasz Buda, Conrad Wedde, Tom Callwood, Richie Singleton and Will Ricketts proved themselves as serious and talented musicians, offering warm and witty banter and an hour of beautiful entertainment. It's hard to imagine that this mob of cheery fellas has made music together for 14 years. They gel with a fresh and easy going outlook.
Their set ended. I stood in the stairwell, dressing for the night with an embarrassing number of layers, completed by high-vis jacket and cycle helmet adorned with antennae-like rear view mirror. Richie Singleton, the drummer, came from the concert room and stood next to me. He chatted easily. I felt honoured to hold court with a member of The Phoenix Foundation. He talked of promoters, touring and their return to Brighton. The sight of a cyclist dressed for fierce rain and dangerous roads seemingly passed him by.
I didn't catch The Phoenix Foundation at The Great Escape last month. I will always have The Hope and our cosy night in.
My aim to listen to every band that's been 'formally announced' to play Glastonbury continues.
The Job:
Listen to the latest album (or EP where no album has been released) for each band and grade it. This often involves multiple listens.
Progress:
70 acts rated for Friday. Top of the list are The Vaccines, Example and Cage the Elephant, all with 9/10.
33 acts rated for Saturday. Top of the List are The Phoenix Foundation, with 9/10.
Okay, no surprises there! 3 out 4 of the above have featured in this blog already. 1 is about to (see my next post).
The Moment:
I'm currently listening to P-Money. I'm on track 16 of an album I would never otherwise hear. Will I see P-Money? I hope not. I'm not sure if my brain can take the remaining 4 tunes. It's like being talked at non-stop for 1 hour and 7 minutes. Some stages at Glastonbury are sure going grime this year.
The Odds of Success:
I will fail! It's not about winning. I couldn't bring myself to listen to U2. U2 can be blamed for tipping the balance. It's more enjoyable to blame U2 than the limitations of time!
More than Music:
Fabpants Recommends:
Here's a track from a lovely EP that's garnered the band an 8/10 in my pre-Glastonbury listings.
Here's another cracking EP track, this time from GroupLove. This song gives me delightful earworm. I am tempted to move GroupLove from 7/10 to 8/10, but the rest of the EP didn't convince me!
It's been surprising cold today. As the day draws to a close, the sun is bright and the sky is blue.
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I listened to the new Cage the Elephant album 'Thank You, Happy Birthday' once on Wednesday, four times yesterday and I am listening to it RIGHT NOW! Join me. Take the rough with the smooth
The Rough...
Indy Kidz reminds me of The Violent Femmes – Add it Up...
It's fabulously official. I'm going to Glastonbury Festival, Latitude Festival and Camp Bestival this year.
This month, Brighton has been in full festival mode, with the Brighton Festival, the Brighton Fringe Festival and the Great Escape. I'm so in the festival spirit right now. YEAH BABY. YEAH. This is my season.
This week, I'm most excited about seeing The Great Wall of Vagina by Jamie McCartney. The images, in the programme alone, were a huge eye opener! Wow. All going well, that will be Tuesday’s treat.
For the past three weekends, I've been enjoying street theatre, free exhibitions and - of course - the vibe at large.
As well as enjoying upbeat treats, I would recommend a dip into Evolution of Fearlessness by Lynette Wallworth. It's at the University of Brighton Gallery (Grand Parade). The exhibition pays tribute to women who have survived horrors, such as wars‚ concentration camps or extreme acts of violence.
The exhibit encourages you to walk up to a screen, where each woman - on film - walks towards you. One by one, the women place their hand against yours and communicate with intense eye contact. It's surprisingly moving.
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I’m attempting (!) to listen to all the bands on the Glastonbury line up this year. Until the big Glastonbury Listening Exercise began, this act had slipped me by completely:
I was babbling with excitement when I saw the programme. I made a little list, and then assertively committed to a plan. To make a Great Escape, one needs a solid strategy.
The Vaccines beat Yuck to the post. I've seen both before, don’t you know!
After finding a spot in The Corn Exchange, I kept it. I was a rubber rock for two bands in a row. I went up and down, but never more than 3 rows back. Outside the queue got longer and longer, wrapping itself round the Royal Pavilion like a drunken barricade. Over a thousand people tried and failed. I'm a jolly lucky thing.
The Vaccines stole the night. Anri Hjorvar raised his arms, clapped, and the night was set. Result!
Release your rhythmic force and the Vaccines won't let you go. Hundreds of ecstatic people threw their inhibitions to the wall. They joined the frenzy of the night.
The sparkling throng bounced against each other, hands reached out to catch the fallen, faces grinned with delight and lungs excitedly gasped. The breaks were short and sweet. That's what I call a gig.
The Vaccines nailed it. In a room of 1200 people, they found their stage presence. Justin Young looked across the room and allowed himself a smile. "What about you sceptics at the back?" he asked, "People couldn't get in because of you."
It must be must be a great relief to live up to the hype.
The Vaccines Set List
Under Your Thumb
Wreckin' Bar
Blow It Up
Wetsuit
Wolf Pack
If You Wanna
All in White
A Lack of Understanding
We’re Happening
Post Break Up Sex
Family Friend
Good Guys (Don’t Wear White) – The Standells Cover
Norgaard
I cycled home FLYING. I wanted to say 'hello' to everyone I saw. I wanted to share my immense feeling of joy. I wanted to make it universal. I was high: so high. The free wristband did that. The Vaccines did that. Signed, sealed and delivered.
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How can this not make you wanna bounce merrily with hundreds of people?
I've seen hundreds of bands in tiny venues. Some go on to headline festivals. A greater number never find their way out of the fleapits. Many are bloody brilliant. I love going to gigs. When I get it together, I sometimes rave about good gigs here.
This is the stuff and nonsense of my life. You are welcome to visit as little or often as you like. I have no RSS or site feed, so read my words here or read another's elsewhere. Live a good life. This is just a blog.
On emilyfabpants.blogspot.com you will find links that lead to MP3 audio files. These files are stored somewhere else on the Internet and are not part of this website. Emily Fabpants does not carry any responsibility for them. Emily Fabpants does not store or make available for download any audio and/or video files herself. Please buy the music if you like it or pay to see the artist at a live show. Most of all, enjoy.
