Cloud Nothings, The Hope Brighton, 6/11/10

Let's take a moment and think of Cleveland, Ohio. Does it spring to mind as a place of exciting musical developments and a hub of creativity in American culture? No you're right, it doesn't to The Fly either. Yet somehow the place has managed to spawn one of the most promising bands of 2010 in Cloud Nothings.

Deluging our eardrums from the off tonight with their agile indie-pop, there is a quintessential American college-radio essence to Cloud Nothings’ sound. 'Didn't You' with its shimmering chords and “oooh-eee-oooh”s could easily be slotted into the soundtrack of a teen angst-driven television show, and in turn it gets the crowd satisfyingly bobbing their heads along from the off. Succeding song 'Leave You Forever' sets a welcoming quicker pace to proceedings, as frenetic guitar riffs and drum beats topple over each other for dominance, and in several of the outfit’s songs, bursts of accelerated music sporadically give way to briefly toned down instrumentals before kicking back into momentum again; providing an essential variation in arrangement that prevents them from ever falling into the trappings of monotony. The lo-fi production sound that Cloud Nothings' recordings possess sadly doesn't translate live, but Dylan Baldi's virile and earnest vocals compensate sufficiently for this loss.
 

Despite the band being evidently accomplished, there remain a couple of traits in their onstage performance that betray their young age and general lack of experience tonight. Predominantly, the entire set feels very rushed and some tracks feel as though they have been put on fast forward. 'Hey Cool Kid' is a song that oozes assured nonchalance, yet the ironically geek-chic band race through it at such a speed that it appears they're trying to inconspicuously hurry past the jock in the hall rather than confront him with their discerning lyrics. That being said, the confidence Cloud Nothings need in order to be able to pace themselves so that both they and audience can enjoy their live performance entirely will undoubtedly come with time and practice.

This review was originally published on www.the-fly.co.uk

Placebo, Brixton Academy, 27/9/10

It’s not often that a band, sixteen years after their debut release, can maintain the standard and intensity with which they first blasted onto the scene, but tonight Placebo manage it with ease. 

Storming through a rampant eighteen-song set barely stopping to take a breath, Brian Molko and co. possess a drive and energy that easily rivals their younger counterparts. Fan favourite ‘Nancy Boy’ kick-starts the evening into life; its grinding guitars contrasting with Molko’s visceral, quavering tones. ‘Battle For The Sun’ sees lyrics fiercely spat out over the imperious drum beat, and the classic ‘Every You Every Me’ transports us back to the days when the band’s style was more poetically agonizing. Newer offering ‘Trigger Happy’, with its refrain of “Put your hands in the air, wave them like you give a fuck”, has the sold-out capacity crowd tonight doing just that, whilst the frenetic riffs of ‘For What It’s Worth’ exhilarate and enchant the audience. And with the stage crew sporting Joker-painted faces and bassist Stefan Olsdal modelling a metallic silver suit, it would be easy to believe that this show is far from serious business for Placebo. But the vehemence with which they play indicates otherwise.

Those familiar with the trio’s Covers release will know that Placebo excel at putting their own spin on other peoples’ tracks, and this evening’s version of Nirvana’s ‘All Apologies’ is no exception. Add this to a thrilling encore culminating in an electrifying rendition of ‘Taste In Men’ and the crowd are left feeling as if they have been loaded with something a million miles away from the bands’ namesake. Now it is often suggested that Placebo’s glory days are long gone, but judging by this intense and galvanizing performance, it seems their time is far from up.




This review was originally published on www.the-fly.co.uk

Kasabian, Brixton Academy, 19/8/10

Now at the peak of their leery, beery powers, tonight’s Kasabian gig marks the eve of one of their biggest shows to date – a headline slot at V Festival. Swaggering onstage with his closely cropped hair, all-black outfit and dark sunglasses, lead singer Tom Meighan’s publicly declared desire to emulate the Gallagher brothers seems to have become more of a reality as his band’s ascension continues. Luckily for us however, their music isn’t overshadowed by in-fighting and bad attitudes.

Opening with ‘Shoot The Runner’, the crowd explode into life and barely stop to take a breath for the following ninety minutes. Already this is more than simple guitar fare, as a trio of trumpeters add a sense of fanfare to proceedings. ‘Take Aim’ sees Tom leave the stage to give chief songwriter Serge his moment in the spotlight and he grabs it with both hands as he attacks his guitar with an impassioned vigour. ‘Fast Fuse’ sets off a spark that drives the audience into an agitated frenzy, whilst ‘Club Foot’ sees the capacity of Brixton bounce as a collective and chant in a manner that wouldn’t be out of place at a football match. The only slow point comes during ‘West Ryder Silver Bullet’ as its dramatic instrumentals decrease the pace slightly, but this is merely a dot in the sumptuous tapestry of their set.

Despite the fact that the only instrument he picks up the entire gig is a tambourine, tonight is undoubtedly the Tom Meighan show. With his childlike candour and boundless exuberance, he is a true showman. The crowd are putty in his hands as he stalks around the stage like a caged animal itching to be unleashed, and by the time the band storm through ‘Fire’ in the encore, there is an electricity in the room that The Fly simply cannot help but be awed by. If tonight’s performance is Kasabian’s idea of a warm up show, then the lucky punters who witness them in bigger slots should prepare to get burnt.

This review was originally published on www.the-fly.co.uk

The New Pornographers, Electric Ballroom, 19/5/10

After a rather soulless performance by support band Here We Go Magic, it is up to headliners The New Pornographers to breathe some life back into the room. Luckily, with their witty crowd banter and jovial indie-pop, the audience is soon resuscitated.

One of the first things that strikes you about the band is that there are three people on vocal duties; the creative genius and driving force behind the band; A.C. Newman leading the way, along with Neko Case and Newman’s niece Kathryn Colder. This trio works well, with all three voices impeccably complimenting each other. Describing their sound as ‘power-pop’, the band are actually far more complex than that tag-line might suggest, with ‘Use It’ possessing a rock and roll heart, with briskly plucked guitar strings and an escalating drum roll. Meanwhile, shouted lyrics during ‘It’s Only Divine Right’ creates a punk moment and the band whistling in unison during ‘Crash Years’ simply makes for a rather bemusing sight, but all of these elements ultimately serve to demonstrate their versatility.

The drums prove to be hugely important to The New Pornographers’ overall sound, as rhythm-less verses seem noticeably more bland, and the cyclical heartbeat patterns provide a pulse for the rest of the group. During some songs, however, it feels as though Newman has maybe hit a bit of writer’s block as numerous “ooohs” and “lalalas” occasionally drone on and become somewhat tiresome in comparison to the otherwise vivid and meaningful lyrics showcased in such other tracks as ‘My Rights Versus Yours’.

Overall The New Pornographers’ sound is very clean; from the abrupt endings of the songs to the synchronised harmonies; the band know exactly what they want. Newman as master tailor has cut and sewn everything together sublimely and trimmed the edges to perfection, and the result is one very sharp and immaculately groomed performance.

This review was originally posted on www.the-fly.co.uk

Band of Skulls, Electric Ballroom, 14/5/10

A group featuring the less commonplace combination of both male and female lead vocals is bound to draw comparisons to bands which already possess such an atypical amalgamation. So it's unsurprising that after teaming this ingredient with raucous guitars and some flogging of drums, Band Of Skulls have received more than their share of correlations with the male-female combo of The White Stripes. Both critics and audience members alike have been caught saying as much, and the British trio singing onstage tonight with an American twang are doing little to try to dispel these comments.

Opening with an extended selection of thick guitar riffs prior to launching into 'Light Of The Morning' sees the band start as they mean to go on; lengthy instrumentals are proven over the course of the evening to be somewhat of a speciality. The strong guitar and drum fusion demonstrated from the very beginning certainly makes for an impressionable sound, as it reverberates with such intensity around the space that rib cages are shaken to their very core. Single 'Death By Diamonds' produces a more frenzied tempo, providing a refreshing change and really whipping the group of young'uns down the front into somewhat of an excitable stir. However, slower songs such as 'Fires' induce a noticeable amount of loud chatter from the crowd which dampens the atmosphere somewhat and makes the reintroduction of their weighty sounds in 'I Know What I Am' surprisingly welcome. 

If there's one thing that is evident as the night progresses, it's that the ferocious nature of their sound rather than the lyrics lead their music. Lyrics that are there are undeniably catchy and you find yourself chanting along with the chorus, but their repetitive tendency eventually appears lazy rather than captivating. The majority of their songs feature strong guitar riffs which are sporadically broken by fleeting pauses before launching into another set of hooks, and as a result there remains the omnipresent feeling of a certain Mr. White throughout the duration. They say that imitation is the greatest form of flattery, yet we can't help but leave with the feeling that Band Of Skulls would be far better off determining their own style rather than trying to recreate someone else’s.


This review was originally posted on www.the-fly.co.uk

Harrys Gym, Tunbridge Wells Forum, 13/5/10

Whereas their current Scandanavian peers such as Casiokids and Love Is All have opted for a more upbeat sound, Harrys Gym tonight are here to prove that, like Mew, ethereal melancholy can be just as affecting. If there's one word to describe Harrys Gym's sound, it's atmospheric. Soft, swirling electro backings combined with lead singer Anne's angelic vocals soon engulf and transport you to a sense of abandonment; something many musicians from these lands seem to be able to encapsulate in such sublime fashion.

The first couple of opening tracks tonight demonstrate their haunting pop at its best, with slow tempos and eerie, light vocals lulling the audience into a rather quiescent state. Even the playing of their instruments reflects their tender nature, as Anne strums her guitar so gently it appears she is barely stroking it, let alone dictating it with a vigour that most guitarists usually attack with. Halfway through the set their style changes noticeably, changing the ambience in the room completely, and perhaps for the better. The mellow essence previously exhibited is replaced with heavier guitars and drum thrashing that pounds straight through the heart of the room. Vocally there is a swift change too, with Anne's voice becoming stronger and more determined, and displaying a definite Bjork-like edge. Yet despite this change, the chilling nature their songs emit is never lost and it is clear that this acts as an integral element to their overall sound.

Harrys Gym certainly have plenty of potential and they are undoubtedly on their way to being something special. The problem is that as beautiful as their dreamy sound may be, it is sometimes too light and fragile to actually make an impact. Ultimately, the band need to define their overall sound better and work on creating a greater stage presence, and it will be after this that we will see them maximise their talent to the full.


This review was originally posted on www.the-fly.co.uk

The Colours, Carnivale, 1/5/10

In amongst the myriad of synth-driven indie pop acts du-jour, it sometimes feels like a formidable task to find a band who genuinely stand out from the crowd. So you can imagine The Fly's excitement tonight upon discovering, in the depths of Shoreditch, a group of three lads who could quite possibly be what we've been searching for.

Quietly taking their positions onstage with minimum fuss, The Colours don't initially seem like a band who will be dazzling us with their electronic potency. However, kicking off with 'Breakup', they swiftly prove us wrong and provide an alluring taster of what eighties retro-sounding delicacies are to follow. The synth hook that pulsates throughout the opening song grasps your attention from the off and refuses to loosen its grip – a technique that many of their tracks shrewdly possess. 

While most up-and-coming acts would be wary of emulating, let alone covering one of the synth greats, The Colours are evidently unfazed as they intertwine an absolutely brilliant cover of Gary Numan's 'Cars' into their setlist. And we are also treated to an airing of current single 'Tonight I Let You Go'; which showcases lead singer Tom's impressive vocals and the band’s knack for penning a great chorus, which is something they have in bucket loads.

Tom seems almost embarrassed as he looks out into the audience when they finish, but the euphoric response he receives to The Colours’ swooping melodies, fluctuating tempos and cyclical drum rhythms shows he has absolutely nothing to be worried about. An encore of 'Homesick Valentine' rounds up an impressive set tonight, leaving us wondering how on earth these guys still aren't signed. But if this performance is anything to go by, we're pretty certain it won't be long before record companies are snapping at their brightly-hued heels.


This review was originally posted on www.the-fly.co.uk

Rolo Tomassi, Tunbridge Wells Forum, 16/4/10

Quietly entering the stage dressed in a silver sequinned hoodie, Rolo Tomassi’s petite lead singer Eva Spence looks somewhat out of place amongst a room full of heavy-metal fans. However, after brazenly declaring, “there are no rules”, the band launch into the first song and any concerns The Fly may have had of this songstress getting flattened by an over-zealous mosh are hastily negated.

It is quite astonishing that these throaty, guttural vocals are produced by such a diminutive figure and their music is definitely not the sort to listen to if you suffer from headaches or a nervous disposition. With their distinctive 'mathcore-rock' sound, it would be fair to say that Rolo Tomassi are far from everyone's cup of tea, and the mere 150 people present tonight is perhaps testament to this. However, despite Eva declaring that tonight they are performing in “one of the coldest venues in the country”, it doesn't take long for this ardent crowd to be suitably warmed up.

Whilst the set features older songs such as 'Scabs' and 'I Love Turbulence', the band have been using this tour as an opportunity to debut material from their new album 'Cosmology'. Electronica and even elements of jazz are prominent, along with intermittent but swift changes into softer, more commonplace harmonies proving that Rolo Tomassi are not happy simply resting upon their laurels. New songs such as 'Party Wounds' and 'Unromance' demonstrate just how integral these electro elements in particular are to their sound, often taking them away from their metal roots altogether.

The undeniable star of this show is the young Miss Spence, who flits between throwing herself around the stage as if her life depends on it, and twirling about like a classical dancer. Combined with the almost demonic vocals, this Sheffield quintet provides a rather erratic spectacle that The Fly is certainly not going to forget in a hurry.


This review was originally posted on www.the-fly.co.uk

Young Rebel Set, The Barfly, 29/3/10

Stepping unassumingly onto the stage wearing checked shirts and sporting the odd vagabond beard, Young Rebel Set are a long way off the rowdy demeanour that their name suggests. By the time acoustic guitars are hooked over shoulders and The Fly spots a harmonica, there is a flicker of doubt as to whether we're actually in the right venue. But sure enough, lead singer Matty Chipchase introduces the seven guys on stage as the band we were expecting and they launch straight into their self-described 'gritty urban folk'.

Young Rebel Set name The Pogues and Springsteen as two of their main influences, and traces of both these artists are incredibly evident in every aspect of their sound. Piano solos and guitar harmonies build into hearty choruses facilitating The Boss' renowned Heartland Rock style, and Chipchase's voice has a touch of the gravely, world-weariness about it that idol Shane MacGowan exhibits so exquisitely. Their songs live are faster than in recordings, and this creates a more jovial feel compared to the more melancholy tone set prior to seeing them on stage. Fast-paced folk tracks such as 'Down The Line' make feet twitch - we’re longing to burst into barn dance around some haystacks to this - and the thoroughly unpretentious nature of their stage presence creates the impression that they could really be playing for you in such a humble setting.

Talk of idealistic romances dominate, particularly in 'If I Was', but this is a refreshing change from woe-addled tales of love and misery that seem to be provided in abundance by many other bands these days. Their larger-than-average size (there’s seven of them!) means that there are more individual sounds to be woven in amongst each other and if you listen carefully you can hear how layers have been intricately slotted together. Positives aside, there are occasions whereby their influences seem to be on the verge of overwhelming their own sound, and this is something Young Rebel Set need to be wary of. That said, they always say it's the quieter ones you should look out for, and it's going to be these discerning young Yorkshire-men that live up to their name when you least expect it.


This review was originally posted on www.the-fly.co.uk

Youthmovies, Borderline, 26/3/10

“Well that was pretty full on”, declares Moog maestro Sam after an outstanding set tonight at the Borderline. And The Fly couldn't have put it better ourselves as the band provide an emotionally charged and memorably boisterous set for their final London gig before disbanding.

Launching into ‘Ores’ to kick off proceedings, the crowd is enthralled, and this doesn’t let up until the boys finish eighty minutes later. Audience and band are discernibly as one, with Mears jittering about the stage and playing in amongst his devotees for extended periods of time. After being jokingly heckled as “fucking quitters”, the guys appear genuinely touched by the reception that they receive tonight, laughing that they are more popular now that they’re splitting than the entire time they've been together.

Youthmovies are the masters of tempo change and they flit back and forth so erratically between raucous and frenetic guitars to slower, more melodic vocals that you are left in a continual state of uncertainty as to what they might catapult at you next. The nine songs played in their set tonight flow into one another seamlessly, with it not always being clear where one track ends and another begins. Ska-inspired trumpet outbursts and distorted sound experimentation during ‘Last Night Of The Proms’, along with largely improvised ten-minute instrumentals, only serve to attest to the fact that they are one hell of an innovative group of musicians. 

The overall sound is undefinable. Taking its time to momentarily skim over a variety of genres but never resting upon one long enough in order to settle itself into a specific niche, this is what makes Youthmovies such an incredibly mesmerising live band. It's been eight wonderfully inherent years for this Oxford-based quintet, and they couldn't have provided a more triumphant last hurrah.


This review was originally posted at www.the-fly.co.uk

Editors, Brixton Academy, 25/3/10

As the old saying goes, if it ain't broke, don't fix it – and tonight Editors' performance is testament to this. Admirable as it may have been for the band to step outside their comfort zone and venture into the inscrutable realms of synthesisers for their latest album, these new-found submissions unfortunately don't seem to translate for them in the live arena as impressively as their older material does. 

Opening with ‘In This Light And On This Evening’, the title track to their third release provides a taste of Editors' quintessentially macabre sound, yet does little to encourage enthusiasm. Luckily, the vigorously guitar-riffed stormer ‘An End Has A Start’ soon stimulates the audience and it is during more energetic songs such as this that the venue seemed to really come alive. More recent ‘Eat Raw Meat = Blood Drool’ acts as a sample of the traditional Editors style with poppier verses giving way to stirring drum poundings which reverberate around the venue. That said, there remains throughout a noticeable difference in crowd reaction to their newer music in comparison to classics such as 'Blood' and 'Bullets’. Execution of their rather more lacklustre current tracks sees the punters revert to idle chatter and migration towards the bar, yet the urgency behind the frenzied choruses of older material proves considerably more rousing, with the audience clearly soaking up every last note.

Despite a change in style, their newer songs are far from wanting when it comes to the familiar ardent lyrics. Tom Smith's unerring vocals contain such passionate yearning that you can't help but feel overwhelmed by the necessity of his words, and this is not something that many bands at the minute can truly boast. The effort is undeniably there then, but if Editors wish to perpetuate their status as being one of the best British bands in recent years, they need to retrieve and maintain the panache and energy that was exhibited in their early sound.



This review was originally posted on www.the-fly.co.uk

Noah and the Whale, Roundhouse, 12/3/10

Taking a break from recording their upcoming third album, tonight sees Noah And The Whale return for a one-off gig at the venue where they launched their debut album two years ago.

The opening track is a choral-backed ‘Love Of An Orchestra’, which sets the musical tone for the rest of the evening, with rich, melodic violins and commanding bursts of trumpets. The band emphatically propel themselves through a set-list comprised predominantly of tracks from their lyrically raw second album, with ‘I Have Nothing’ amusingly causing lead singer Charlie to declare that he wished he’d come up with better song names. Legendary pedal steel guitarist B.J. Cole arrives onstage to accompany the band during ‘My Door Is Always Open’, and fan favourites such as ‘2 Atoms In A Molecule’ and ‘Jocasta’ from Noah And The Whale’s more jovial first release are slotted in amongst their more poignant songs to get everyone dancing.  Somewhat disappointingly, it is ‘Five Years Time’ that draws the loudest response from the crowd, despite this being far from their most rousing of songs. And the band also take the opportunity to debut a new track in the encore, establishing that their new sound won't be a huge departure from their most recent work.

There is not an ounce of pretention with this folk act, and this modesty is part of their overwhelming charm. The simplicity of their performance, delicately meshed with poignantly intense lyrics, makes Noah And The Whale’s music nothing but sincerely heartrending. And for a band whose latest material is founded upon the tale of a loss of love, there is, ironically, a hell of a lot of it in the room tonight.

This review was originally posted on www.the-fly.co.uk

Bertie Blackman, The Barfly 27/2/10

When a young woman named Bertie steps onto the stage with cat whiskers painted on her face, you could be forgiven for not expecting an overly stirring performance. However, as this feisty, petite, Australian songstress picks up her guitar and starts singing, it is immediately clear that she is about to demonstrate otherwise. 

One thing that is apparent from the off is that Bertie's live performance is extensively more exhilarating and intoxicating than her recorded work gives her credit for. Her don't-give-a-shit attitude on stage is intriguing rather than clichéd, and she sings with such a purpose it sometimes feels as though her entire being depends on it. Breathy, violin-backed opener 'The Sky is Falling' lulls the crowd into a certain state of relaxation, yet from second track ‘Thump’ the set swiftly ascends into a myriad of electronica and pop-rock, which doesn't slacken in pace until Bertie and her band triumphantly depart the stage forty minutes later.

Strong electro drum beats pulsate through the set creating more of a dance feel as the evening progresses, though the lead singer's early childhood influences of African percussion are not forgotten, and shine through in 'Heart', which is founded around a series of tribal beats and claps. Slower verses are transformed into heavy, guitar filled choruses, and soft, raspy vocals become tormented, throaty wails, continually jolting the enthralled crowd into the unexpected.

With her ability to deviate from one sound to another without seeming laboured, and the nonchalant vibe that exudes from her every pore, Bertie is everything that a lot of female artists are currently striving to be. Yet after seeing Blackman and her band it's evident many of these other pretenders still have a long way to go.

This review was originally posted on www.the-fly.co.uk