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Live Review: IDLES at The Ritz

A friend of mine has the rather peculiar hangover ritual of writing Facebook poetry. These, at times come across as mad ramblings – a half-drunk students’ stream of consciousness. However, in opportune moments these poems can be a revealing window into the head of a man’s alcohol-induced state of vulnerability. Indeed, upon accompanying me to IDLES’ Manchester Ritz performance he wrote “Joe Talbot changed my life last night.” This remark was perhaps facetious; a frivolous quip slotted into a meaningless poem. After seeing the same performance however, I think he was deadly serious.

IDLES took to the stage. A sold-out room, awaiting, brimming with anticipation. Proceedings were then initiated. Dev’s lingering bass entered slowly, repetitively, like a Blitz air-raid siren. Colossus had begun. This is the band’s opening track from the marvellous album Joy as an Act of Resistance, and it carefully lulled the audience into a trance. Tensions rose. The guitars quietly followed. Anticipation was building. Frontman, Joe Talbot, almost in warning, began his bellow of “it’s coming”, sounding like a man possessed.  And then, it began.

A cacophony of noise; a vibrant rapture of pints and bodies flung across the packed room. All promises were actualised. Like a Jürgen Klopp masterclass or a Tarantino classic, this was organised chaos. And it was fucking brilliant. As they relentlessly churned through a string of belters, from the chimerical Never Fight a Man with a Perm to Brutalism’s Mother, it just got better and better.

Madness ruled the stage. Joe’s ethereal presence reverberated throughout the room. Guitarist, Bobo, a man with the appearance of Asterix at Woodstock, walked horizontally across stage, crab-like, whilst balancing his guitar on his head. His co-guitarist, Lee Kiernan, divided his time between head banging and crowd surfing. Dev, and drummer, Jon, wisely stayed on stage, aware of the need to keep such mischief on a loose leash.  The act was was egoless, and belonged not to one individual but to every member of the band. Each of them provided a spectacle in their own manner, whether through extroverted or introverted means. When it all came together, it was impossible to look away.

IDLES’ adopted mantra – “all is love” – was certainly reflected in the crowd; although at times it was rough and energetic, it never felt unsafe. There was a sense of unity and awareness-for-others rarely seen in a gig environment. Such sentiments were epitomised as Joe Talbot pointed the audience’s attention to representatives of ‘Safe Gigs for Women’, before playfully insisting that more women make their way to the front to “throw some elbows”. The almost malevolent riff of Divide & Conquer erupted, and an automated audience of men and women moshed in unison.

This concept of ‘unity’ was perfectly embodied, when members of ‘IDLES AF’, the bands most loyal group of disciples, were invited to the stage for the set’s euphoric crescendo. At least 50 fans contributed to a chaotic yet brilliant noise, some strumming guitars, others smashing cymbals, a few performing their best Bez impressions. It was cathartic – the band’s moment of gratitude to a loyal fan-base. Not only that, it was necessary. Idles are a band that unashamedly and openly explore taboos, whether it be depression, toxic masculinity or, god help them, Brexit. Through anthems like Danny Nedelko, Television and the fiercely pertinent Great, they articulate sentiments many of us feel but choose not to talk about. A hierarchy between stage and crowd is in turn redundant – we are tackling a similar mesh of issues.  Even if IDLES don’t promise an antidote, they create music that can be reflected upon, music that’s therapeutic as well as didactic.

Few bands neatly reflect upon a moment the way IDLES do, even fewer bands are as prophetic. With IDLES, gone are the days of ‘rock star’ stereotypes a-la Liam Gallagher. Behind a frontier of loud guitars and vocals there is music with sensitivity in abundance played by men unafraid of vulnerability, accepting of their insecurities. Perhaps it’s because of this nuance in their work that Joe Talbot feels the need to reiterate “we are not a F**cking Punk band”. Perhaps this is also why I think my friend was being honest when saying the night “changed” his life. It certainly changed mine. Indeed, IDLES at the Ritz will go down as one of the best performances I’ve ever seen, from the most important band in the country.

 

Review by Christopher Byfield

Live Review/Interview: Art School Girlfriend at YES

Art School Girlfriend is the moniker of Polly Mackey, a Margate based multi-instrumentalist making waves with her own brand of mesmerizing electronic pop. After hearing of the rising buzz around Mackey’s latest project I decided to see her for myself, catching up with her after the show. She played in the basement space of Manchester’s newest music venue, YES, supported by up and coming dream pop outfit, Dream English Kid.

YES is a venue spread across four floors, each with a distinct vibe ideal for different events. We make our way from the bright stylish pizza bar into the purple glow of the club space below. I take note of a girl in a bright red work-wear boiler-suit thinking it was a pretty original fashion choice. I then notice another suit. Then another. At this point I realise this must be the support band dotted about rather than some lightning fast fashion development I was unaware of. Sure enough the four of them make their way to the stage like a sort of psychedelic British Gas team.

Dream English Kid

Dream English Kid swing into action, playing under grainy black and white projections of trapeze artists, pylons, tiny dancing shadows and more. Though seemingly random, the found footage fits together beautifully into a visual stream of consciousness. This compliments the melancholy dreaminess of Dream English Kid’s music. Heavily distorted guitars along with twinkly electronics and sweet vocal harmonies form a sound reminiscent of dream pop giants, Beach House, though often with a darker shoegaze spin. This is a young band with huge potential and a mature approach to their themes, namely the confusion of growing up in current times. With only one track available so far, I am very much looking forward to future releases.

After a short wait, Art School Girlfriend arrives onto a stage flooded with blue light. A minimalist light box displays her stage name. This moody, stripped back set up creates the ideal setting to get lost in Mackey’s hazy production and sauntering beats. She opens with the flowing violin style synthesizers of An Uncomfortable Month from her 2017 EP, Measures. The band is kitted out with guitars, synthesizers, drum machines, drum pads and a traditional drum-kit bringing new depth to Mackey’s solo tracks. She tells us after the show that her songwriting process never goes from the beginning of the song. She starts with the sounds to be used and forms melodies and lyrics around them. Lately however, the band are somewhat more involved in the process. “It’s getting more collaborative now since I’ve been playing with the boys and now I’m more open to other people having input in the songs”. This shows in their live performance with the full band adding atmosphere and a more organic flow to the music.

The night’s closing track, Moon, is from Art School Girlfriend’s latest EP, Into The Blue Hour, released earlier this year. This is a track with a heavy focus on electronics. Its dark pop beat starts to wake an entranced crowd into a little dance to finish. Moon is a good example of her breakaway from previous guitar led projects. When her last band broke up, Mackey says she listened to a lot of pirate radio stations. In a sense, this cleansed her musical palate. Listening to so much new music has given her a new set of sounds to experiment with and left her less reliant on her guitar alone.

What shone throughout Art School Girlfriend’s set was the expressiveness in her face and voice in such a small venue. To see her perform live is to feel the emotion in her lyrics. There is an authentic yearning in her voice that leaves you longing without necessarily knowing what for. For that full intensity, I recommend you catch Art School Girlfriend playing in one of these more intimate venues. The aforementioned buzz growing around her releases was not misplaced, so I expect she won’t be playing in such small spaces for very much longer.

Check out Moon below:

Reviewed by Hannah O’Gorman

Live Review: Gazelle Twin at Soup Kitchen

For us human beings to peacefully coexist with one another, an element of performance and disguise is critical.  We exaggerate our best qualities and conceal our worst.  We take on characteristics abnormal to us to resolve our differences with others.  However, as much as it helps us prosper as a species, this personal compromise is the source of our unhappiness, frustrations and terror, and makes us fear our own individuality.  Maybe Freud or someone wrote something about it, maybe in Civilisation and its Discontents, maybe in, I don’t know, chapter two?  But who am I to say?  I’m no shrink.

Gazelle Twin is a producer and vocalist from Brighton.  She had a new record out recently.  This is about all I know about her and I’m not sure I want to know any more.  She played a gig at Soup Kitchen on Thursday 4th October, charming and scaring me in equal measure.  Bar an anonymous knob fiddler hunched over a desk to her right, she was alone on a stage devoid of embellishments or decoration, placing the visual focus of the performance entirely on her costume and body.  She pranced around onstage in full red and white attire like a giant tin of Red Stripe channelling Godzilla, leaving only her lips exposed.  Sometimes her performance was reminiscent of rap gigs I’ve been to in her confrontational, just-me-and-the-mic-in-this-bitch demeanour (see above).  But however she carried herself, her physicality was always like an extension of the music itself, and her idiosyncratic dance moves synced perfectly with music.  She yelped, screamed and whispered over broken synth loops.  The huge kicks and shimmering industrial snares scarcely held the tracks together, leaving the crowd asking themselves ‘‘Should we be dancing to this?  Is it going to look bad if I go for a cig?’’.  Her songs are very formulaic and her sound niche.  But it was never boring.  You can get away with it with such musicianship and finesse.

My favourite moment of the night came when she burst into an unexpected acoustic recorder solo.  Somehow she had appropriated this infantile, undignified instrument into something capable of paralysing Manchester’s young scenesters into stunned silence.  If before she was a rapper, now she was an otherworldly nymph, enchanting those who dared enter her realm.  It sounds strange saying that the sheer ridiculousness of her act seemed entirely normal.  At the end of the day she is an illusion, a contrived hodgepodge, a sum of a million different cultural sources, yet with such an original sound and aggressive demeanour.  If she wasn’t so relatable, perhaps we would be laughing at Gazelle Twin instead of lauding her.

Review by Joe McGavin

Photo by Hannah O’Gorman

Live Review: Moses Sumney at The Dancehouse

Upon entering Manchester’s Oxford Road Dancehouse this Wednesday gone, I wasn’t
entirely sure what to expect. This time last year I missed out on Moses Sumney’s London
show, and so now was my chance to catch him at last. Having finally seen him perform live,
I’ll be making sure not to miss the next gig. It’s been a number of days since the show, and I
still find remnants of his enigmatic, hauntingly beautiful vocals, lyrics, and production
swirling around in my memory. The idea of being nestled in an intimate space, immersed in
the deeply sensual sounds from his album Aromanticism, now feels like some short surreal
dream.

It was my first time being in the Dancehouse to see an act, and the 1930’s Art Deco complex
perfectly accommodated the other-worldly atmosphere I was soon to experience. We were
welcomed by Moses’ support ESKA, an inventive and idiosyncratic female solo artist. She
performed a diverse range of music merging folk, soul and electronic sounds, completely at
ease with herself and with the eccentric world that she inhabits. Her dynamism via vocal
and electronic experimentation perfectly set up what was to come after her set.
Through a haze of hanging red mist, dressed in his casual loose kimono, Moses made his
appearance. Opening with the clean and crisp plucking of the guitar on ‘Don’t Bother
Calling’, he instantly put the audience under his spell. It was this ability to naturally tap into
the crowd, through his dizzying range of falsettos, carefully crafted loops, vocal layering and
even his own towering presence, that made such a lasting impression on me. Throughout
the evening his great attention to detail in crafting intricate background soundscapes
proved how meticulous he is as a musician, and this was integral to creating the ethereal
and other-worldly atmosphere that filled the room. All of this was facilitated by the skills of
three talented multi-instrumentalists in his band. They expertly merged guitars, violin,
clarinet and keyboard to give each song its own unique sound. One fine example came with,
‘Lonely world’, in which light guitar and a controlled backbeat slowly descended into an
exhilarating heart-stomping anthem.

Despite Moses’ attention to building an immersive, encapsulating atmosphere in the
intimate Dancehouse theatre, he still found room for moments of humorous interaction
with the audience. For several songs, he sought assistance from the audience to amplify the
background vocals. But before doing so, he jokingly added ‘if you don’t know how to sing,
just be supportive of those who can!’. I took this advice on board and remained dutifully
silent and supportive. Moses also snuck in a number of covers before the end of his set,
including Bjork’s ‘Come to me’ and a playful Amy Winehouse crowd-pleaser, ‘I Heard Love is
Blind’. Even an enthusiastic heckler in the crowd got his wish for Moses’s own ‘Man on the
Moon’.

For the encore, I believe everyone in the audience saw the full worth of their ticket with
Moses’ final and arguably most popular song, ‘Plastic’. The gentle lilt of this piece brought a
dreamy finish to a genuinely moved audience. Through the mournful confession of
vulnerability in the refrain ‘My wings are made of plastic’, Moses reminds us that despite his
ability to captivate and entertain with such a spectacular performance, he too is human,
fragile, and he finishes with the reminder that there is an element of beauty in such things.

Review by Sam Howard

Live Review: Bishop Nehru at Band on The Wall

In 2014 Bishop Nehru and MF Doom teamed up for NehruvianDoom. Nehru brought the bars, Metal Face brought the beats. Bishop Nehru was 18 years old. What were you doing at 18 years old? I’ll tell you what I was doing. I was being dragged out of dodgy Manchester indie clubs for vomiting indiscreetly on the bar. Nehru was making tracks with Doom. Now, at the ripe old age of 21, one of the world’s most hyped hip hop artists is back with his official solo debut: Elevators: Act I and II.

Doom looms large on Elevators – he produced half of it, after all. Kaytranada took the reins on the other half, giving Acts I and II pretty distinct vibes. ‘Act I: Ascension’ is identifiably Kaytranada and ‘Act II: Free Falling’ is clearly Doom’s work. Nehru’s latest live shows then, provided him with the opportunity to step out from the enormous shadows cast by one of the all-time greats and one of the biggest names, of any genre, of the last few years. Not content to stand in their shadows – ‘cuz like I’m third wheelin’, I know I don’t wanna be there’ – Nehru stepped out.

The show at Manchester’s historic Band on the Wall gets off to a fairly chilled start. The crowd – like every coffee ordered in the Northern Quarter since 2015 – is flat and white. Nehru talks about his plan for the set. Different vibes, he says. Early on, some of his classic early 90’s-style tracks. As he moves up to Elevators, some jazzier stuff. ‘Rooftops’, the song from which the above lyric is taken, is a standout. His delivery is flawless throughout and the room picks up quickly.

Forty-five minutes in and Nehru really turns it on, with something he wrote when he was 15… ‘Welcome’ is a J Dilla classic (‘DFTF’) that features an insane final verse. The music stops abruptly and the crowd falls silent. Nehru continues rapping, quickening all the time. As everyone in the room begins to realise they’re witnessing something special, the crowd stops dancing too. As he spits the final bar, it erupts. The rest of the set is a party.

To paraphrase Dilla, Bishop Nehru still has some way to go; but on this evidence, he won’t be third wheelin’ anymore.

 

– Reviewed by Billy Godfrey

Live Review: Alvvays at Academy 2

Since forming in 2011, Alvvays (pronounced always) have crafted a jangly, dream-pop aesthetic
brimming with Greta Gerwig-esque charm which last year garnered critical acclaim on their sophomore
LP ‘Antisocialites’. Antisocialites marked a clear improvement from their self-titled debut in terms of
song writing and production value, with front woman Molly Rankin delivering a stunning performance
throughout.

As I arrived the support band ‘Spinning Coin’ were already underway. Spinning Coin offered a stark
contrast in voices between the 2 main vocalists on stage, with the abrasive vocals of Jack Mellin cutting
across the more delicate tones of Sean Armstrong. This partnership offered an interesting dynamic to
the Glaswegian outfit’s sound and I enjoyed the energy they brought to their set.

The headliners approached the stage to a swarm of pastel coloured patterns and static projected upon
them before playing the opening track of their latest album ‘In Undertow’. The crowd responded with
warm cheers as Kerri MacLellan’s arpeggiated synth draws the song to a close and Rankin remarked with
a smile, “Do you know what I like about Manchester? It doesn’t matter if it’s a Monday night”. Alvvays
continue to pull out hits, with “Plimsol Punks” and “Archie, Marry Me” following shortly after. One
striking difference between watching the band live and listening to their records is how much more
prominent Rankin’s vocals are. Almost as a trope of the genre her angelic voice merges with the
shimmering instrumentation on their records, but live she truly was the focal point of the music. This
was never more the case than half way through their set when the lights dimmed, and a spot light shone
upon her for ‘Forget About Life’. The crowd sang every lyric back to Rankin as the thudding toms from
Sheridan Riley started to deliver a pulsating rhythm building in a small crescendo. After a brief exodus
from the stage for one of the most predictable and redundant encores I have ever witnessed, the band
re-emerged to play ‘Party Police’. Throughout the show it was endearing how enamoured the band
were with the sincere response they received from the crowd.

After watching Alvvays live, I must admit I am now a bigger fan. They have a charm and brilliance which
you can’t fully appreciate from their exploits on record. If you are a fan, make sure you make effort to
catch them live as it does breathe new life into their music.

 

9/10.

 

Jack Walker for Fuse FM.