The Skints: Part & Parcel - reviewed
Posted by jamie on Mar 26, 2012
The Skints
Part & Parcel – Bomber Music, 2012
21st March, 2012
Jamie
As the Skints wowed another spellbound, sweaty room, I could only nod, when one man leaned over to whisper in to my ear: “these guys just get better and better”.
It wasn’t just that it was so succinctly put: you couldn’t argue with the words, but the tone, conveying joy and disbelief at the sheer quality of what we were witnessing, and the speed at which the Skints’ star was on the rise. They were getting so much better, so fast, that it actually was difficult to comprehend.
That night at the Highbury Garage was in 2009 (!) and, since then, the Skints have just gone on getting better and better as they get bigger and bigger.
Ahead of its official release on 9th April, their second record, is, in all probability, the single most anticipated reggae album in the UK right now, and, to meet burgeoning expectation, had to be something special.
Part & Parcel goes way beyond that - it’s incredible: bravely standing astride genres to create a uniquely distinctive, and current sound that’s at once credibly, authentically faithful to the Skints’ reggae roots and yet also bravely, proudly, urban - effortlessly epitomising London in 2012 and redefining Jamaican music for the inner city in the twenty-first century.
Enjoyed in its entirety, Part & Parcel is that good. From start to finish, it oozes quality in the arrangement and execution of the boldly diverse collection of excellent songs. Confident, mature, and polished in its production and in the performances across a plethora of instruments that proves the Skints’ musical courage just as much as it does their musical prowess and across all the elements of their sound, it’s packed with wonderful moments.
Of course, not all of these songs are new, even at the first listen: Can’t Take No More has been a live staple for a while, but here, in contrast to the ubiquitous Hush TV acoustic performance or the full-on live renditions, is a stirringly soulful, reggae jam, embellished by melodica and soothing vocal harmonies.
Ratatat, before it, has also popped up all over the place as a music video, but, of course, is absolutely stunning, it’s filthy bassline and quick fire raps over sampled sirens are eerie but instantly infectious.
That the two songs are so different, and yet complement each other so perfectly, is testament to their quality and the strength of the performances and production on show here, but doesn’t go far enough to emphasise how broad the Skints’ range has become: Part & Parcel effortlessly fuses reggae and rocksteady with a punk rock attitude and glorious pop hooks and choruses, and then turns the bass up to twelve.
Once you’re done marvelling at it, it must, surely, be perfect for the dancefloor: the ska guitar parts and sun-soaked keyboard lines to the wonderful Ring Ring, for example, are infectious, first for your hips, and then, once Marcia’s vocal drops, for your heart. The lovable, peppy, poppy skank of Lay You Down, of course, is a proven live hit, instantly danceable, and, if it’s not too bold a claim, the best melody on the record. It’s also got a killer sax solo and a proper reggae drop-out.
Part & Parcel is an absolute feast for reggae fans: the sound of one of the UK’s leading underground bands growing to a new level in stature and confidence to deliver a powerhouse of a performance.
It hardly seems feasible, but the Skints have managed to raise the bar again. Amid all the clamour, just remember that this is an extremely accomplished performance of an excellent collection of songs. It deserves to be remembered as one of the very best records of its kind.
Stand-out tracks:
Can’t Take No More
Live East Die Young
Lay You Down
Sunny Sunny
Soundboy
Tom Craven: Letter/Diary
Posted by jamie on Mar 20, 2012
Tom Craven
Letter/Diary – Self Released, 2012
20th March, 2012
Jamie
It feels, in hindsight, as if we’ve been waiting for that first full Tom Craven album almost forever, but the good news is that it’s worth the wait and then some.
The last we heard, Tom had set his heart on creating something that could define him, and his uniquely complicated recent musical, and personal, experiences in the space of one record.
That would have to span Tom’s solo, acoustic, singer-songwriter material, and all of its delicate, candid emotional sensibilities and disclosures, and the bigger, more ambitious arrangements, recorded by a full band, that shift from a sort of delicate, emotional indie, through alt-country, and end up as a sort of melodic, post-emo, almost-epic rock album.
Somehow, Tom has managed to pull all of that together on Letter/Diary, and to do it in such a way that, while powerful, isn’t ever bombastic or overblown, but calmly, assuredly gives each of this collection of songs exactly what it wants to shine.
Talking to him, or watching him perform, it would be easy to assume that Tom Craven takes himself or his music lightly: he affably downplays any instances of showmanship and is modest to the point of seeming insecure, but, on the inside, you can’t help but feel that he takes all of this very seriously indeed.
That much is clear in the incredible attention he’s given to musical detail here, delicately, patiently embellishing songs originally intended for his solo acoustic shows with extra intricacies in the guitar parts, or, as in the anthemic full-band recording of Heads Rule Hearts, a whole extra melody.
Chances, initially a fan favourite and staple of Tom’s early solo shows as a wistful acoustic number, is included with the backing of a full band, the vocal deeper and instantly more powerful. It’s got all its original charm, and now it’s got real body behind it as well, and is an instant personal highlight: existing fans will know and love this song already, and enjoy the album version as a variation on a much loved theme. If you’re new to Tom’s music, this rendition is just as adorable just as instantly: a vintage pop song that pushes all the right buttons at just the right times and is just waiting to be loved.
Letter/Diary is remarkable not just for its quality, or the musical breadth and versatility, but also because all of those potentially disparate parts have been brought together and arranged, recorded and presented in such a way that’s genuinely cohesive as an album as well, which, given that so many strikingly different influences, ideas and experiences have gone in to it, is an achievement in itself.
All this is evident in the way that the ballsy, bitter Factory Girl is sandwiched between the much gentler, A Last Time for Everything and Last Chance Romance.
Last Chance Romance, in particular, is wonderful, polished, emotional pop: it teases, for a moment, at becoming a full-blown power ballad, and then, just where the key change would have been, cheekily disappears in to a laugh and some off-mic studio banter, left in just in case this all got a bit too serious.
It’s a delightful little song, all the same: like so much of Tom’s best work, the real beauty is in the way it neatly crystallises the problems that we all wrestle with, but that the rest of us still struggle to articulate, and does so with an emotional honesty that’s unflinchingly candid. For that, on an emotional level, these songs are immensely satisfying and instantly relatable. Neatly moving on from A Last Time for Everything, Last Chance Romance gathers all those unfinished feelings from the breakdown of a relationship together, moves satisfyingly and assuredly on, and does it with a piano and percussion.
While Nights in Camden is based more around riffs, a more standard rock song, the best moments of Letter/Diary come after that, in the form of some wonderfully delicate ballads, in particular the duet Magpie and I Never Heard the Sirens Arrive. Magpie is incredibly soft, its melody based around a simple little piano part and percussion, and the male/female vocals in beautiful harmony telling the sad story of “the taming of Johnson and his legendary beast” (the mind boggles). On I Never Heard the Sirens Arrive Tom finishes the album alone. Initially, completely alone, as his vocal begins the song completely unaccompanied, before, eventually, a full band join him, notably with some brilliantly powerful stadium-style drums that come, go again, and then return with a vengeance and a full band.
Again, Tom sings the very last lines alone, and it’s a fitting finish to the song and to the album. Letter/Diary is a wonderfully mature and complete album, rising to the challenge of bringing together all the elements of Tom’s music and his experiences, and meeting that challenge very well indeed. It’s a very varied collection of songs, brought together to tell their stories in a uniquely candid fashion that will leave you feeling vulnerable and yet somehow vindicated, reassured, and deeply emotionally satisfied.
Stand-out tracks:
Chances
Last Chance Romance
Another Short Story..
Magpie
I Never Heard the Sirens
Note: the intro to Another Short Story reminds me of the guitar line from this song.
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Erik Chandler: Writing the Wrongs
Posted by jamie on Mar 14, 2012
Erik Chandler
Writing the Wrongs EP – Rainmaker, 2012
6th March, 2012
Rosie
Best known as the bassist of fun fuelled punk-rock band Bowling For Soup, Erik Chandler shows a different side to his music in this new EP which far removed from anything heard from him before.
Tonight is the Night has an honest, softer quality than you might expect, exhibiting distinctive vocals. It’s very easy, accessible listening with an innate catchiness helped along by the reggae touches found pre-chorus. Its plain guitar riffs, solid drumming and classic rock sounds help this too and the overall sound is made all the more interesting with highly emotional lyrics (“I wish I’d never said I love you”) which contrast to the rather upbeat tones found in the chorus. Push the Pedal is similarly catchy but has heavier guitar chords. The lyrics are distinctive yet simple and therefore incredibly memorable, which seems to add a sing-a-long quality.
A change of style occurs with Hold It Together. It’s a slowed down, acoustic offering that really relies on the chorus to carry it along. This doesn’t mean it’s not enjoyable, just somewhat weaker and less catchy that the first two tracks - it doesn’t exactly grab you on the first listen. Contrasting to this is Malibu Classic bringing instant chanting “woooahs” in the backing vocals and lots of clapping. The verses are supported by an incredibly prominent and catchy bass line and more punk vibes seep in throughout the song with a chorus perfect for a summer’s day.
Whilst it probably isn’t the most life changing CD you’ll ever purchase, it’s certainly is a solid and accomplished offering with appealing vocals, a clear direction and along with that you’ll find an unmistakeable sense of individuality. Older influences are however apparent throughout, giving it a distinguishing rock edge. My main issue with this record is that it’s not long enough so I don’t quite feel I’ve had a true taste of what Erik Chandler has to offer…album please!
Gecko, the Leano, Perkie: 12 Bar, London
Posted by jamie on Mar 13, 2012
Gecko, the Leano, Perkie
12 Bar, London
12th March 2012
Jamie
During soundcheck, the Leano summed this show up nicely. 12 Bar, essentially a tangle of dimly lit tunnels and chimney stacks that, by happy coincidence, also sells alcohol and puts on some of the best small venue shows you’ll see anywhere in the country, was packed by now, and, amidst the hubbub, we’re excited at seeing another slice of something like this show, from Gecko’s winter tour, which rocked all of our worlds just before Christmas.
“It’s nice to see so many people smiling”, Archie, from the Leano, says. “We like to play to smiley people, and the good thing about Gecko is, they tend to bring smiley people”.
Whether or not they’d seen the show before Christmas, this is a suitably warm room by now: warmed inside by that wonderful atmosphere you get when, just by liking the same music, all the strangers in your room are somehow your friends, 12 Bar is, indeed, packed, sardine-style, with smiley people. Good feelings abound.
Perkie begins the evening in her own typically unique fashion. It’s a brief, but wonderfully, impossibly beautiful set: whimsical, deeply moving acoustic protest folk played on a keyboard, a little bit, and for the most part based just around her voice, rich, and smooth like honey, that gently washes over the room in warm waves.
For the most part, we’re stock still, mesmerised by what’s going on, woken from our collective trance only when Perkie punctuates her stunning set by forgetting the odd line, or chatting amiably, apparently blissfully unaware that just seconds ago she has had us all in thrall: trapped in the nectar of her voice like that mosquito that started Jurassic Park, only much warmer.
Those odd moments, clearly genuine as they can only be completely unplanned, such is their spontaneous, self-deprecating charm, seem somehow to pile yet more personality in to her performance. It must be completely unique, and even Perkie seems to have no idea how she does it, but she achieves this time and time again, and it is sheer bliss to be a part of this. Only during Dance, Dance to we actually move our feet, dancing in pairs and feeling like we’re somehow in love with the whole room.
The Leano arrive after all of this. They’re more than gregarious at the best of times, the conversational equivalent of a puppy gleefully clambering for the knees of everybody it meets. In this room, they’re absolutely in their element: Hello is sort of passed off as a sort of warm-up, and Smile, fittingly is out next, Archie using Ben’s smile as an example and Ben finding the whole thing so hilarious that he can’t stop grinning, watermelon-style, and thus showing off exactly the grin Archie’s been on about.
From here on, the rest of the Leano’s performance includes everybody in this room: it’s a sort of acoustic, rap-meets-spoken-word freestyle that never actually stops. Utterly unique, irresistibly engaging, it’s impossible not to get involved, singing the choruses for them as they make up their own surreal songs as they go along, freestyling through hilarious, and, in turn, explicit and utterly random stories using bits of things their audience have made up during the song. It shouldn’t even be possible, really, and yet it feels utterly natural that they should be doing this, and making it look easy. We’re roaring with laughter. I forget what exactly we’re laughing about, but I don’t think that’s the point. Amongst all this, Love Deserves Our Faith, as ever, is a particular treat, thrown in to replace Bigger Than That because of the atmosphere in here and utterly fitting.
And so to Gecko. In this context, the perfect headline act, they’re pretty offbeat themselves, in that lovable, rascally way, and tonight they’re on top form even by their own standards, cheekily joshing with us as they breezily bounce through as many hits as they can.
Straight away, there are plenty of shuffling feet in here for Got Science, Got Maths, What You Gonna Do? and Best Friend. That’s about as much as you can move, really. In between dancefloor faves Falling Down and Too Much, they’ve either made a new audience-participation game for The Library, or they’re making that bit up as they go along. We’recrouched on the floorfor part of it, whispering to each other that this is a library. It’s not, of course. Perkie’s back, for I Got Time, and they cover Ms Jackson as well.
There’s room for a couple of new songs, too: Feeling My Way, is, I think, played live for the first time ever, as an addition, before Postage Stamps, described by Will as “the first song where I don’t play guitar..” and then, cheekily, “we’re trying to phase it out”. Ironic cheers all around.
Guanabana Juice and Gotta Wait ostensibly bring the night to a close. There’s a big wooden beam right across the exit of the stage, though, so Gecko don’t even leave, just crouching down again, before returning for Safest Bet and Pigeon. We’re all deliriously happy by now: swaying awkwardly, shoulder to shoulder with all of our new friends, and shouting along. Wonderful.
See all our pictures from this show here.
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TNS: All-dayer 2012
Posted by jamie on Mar 6, 2012
TNS records all-dayer
Kraak Studio, Manchester
3rd March 2012
Rosie
First problem of the day struck very early on. Where the hell is the venue? After being asked by band members who were also lost and making jokes about dodgy back alleys we eventually found it. The jokes became some sort of reality, however at least there were signs the whole way to this bizarre venue. It was like no other…apparently it was formerly used to display art work, so I can sort of see why they changed it. An arrangement of random sofas around the place with some atmospheric (but purple) lighting was not what I’d usually expect at a punk gig!
First act of the day was Bootscraper performing a stripped down acoustic set as only 3 of 7 members were present. This certainly didn’t mean they were lacking in sound, with their line-up containing accordion, harmonica and what looked like a banjitar, it was certainly a feast of sounds, with contrasting vocals from the extremely gruff to the surprisingly soulful/mournful, complimenting the folk line up and twangy complex banjitar parts, placing them between a youthful Seasick Steve and the excitement of Gogol Bordello. They were rhythmically very tight, also a real bonus with such an array of instruments, especially when lacking a drummer!
It’s not long before Rising Strike burst on to the stage, declaring some kind of new syntax (what) and kick in to their form of extremely fast, hardcore ska with intense horn parts and screams a plenty, their sound is reminiscent of very early Capdown which I’m putting down to all the sax’s dotted rhythms as much as anything else. There’s a lot of anger in this band: they launch aggressively in to songs and often add an odd sense of confusion portrayed by the saxophone as its chromatic nature makes it sound like some kind of weird headache. This band is as mad as their sound, which appears from everywhere, like a whirlwind, destroying everything in its path.
Sounds of Swami are next to face what is a rather busy crowd for about 3pm. Originally I wasn’t taken in by their strong vocals, it seemed somewhat uninspiring, with the choruses really having to bring the songs together and a reliance on the bassist, because although I couldn’t hear him overly well I got the feeling he could carry them through. However, they progressed so much through the set. The Lions Share was a personal favourite as the bass lines did finally become apparent and the sound seemingly expanded all of a sudden, with harmonised vocals and chanty “hey”s, it felt more fuelled by emotion and definitely was a standout track from their set. The final track which I’m fairly sure they named In Retrospect also continued to redeem the earlier parts of their set as everything really did come together, so much so that the crowd felt the need to show their appreciation by creating a circle pit. No, I’m lying, apparently in Manchester they prefer human pyramids…If anyone could tell me why I’d be grateful: I’m quite intrigued as I saw about 5 throughout the day.
The Kirkz appear next, another very fast punk band, with some very bouncy guitar and bass parts and excitable vocalist really trying to involve the crowd. A semi circle of space in the crowd seems to form which he then strides around in, trying to round everyone up, ringmaster style. Their songs are particularly catchy, though I’m not entirely sure why - it could be the gang vocals as they definitely have a sing-a-long vibe to them. Either way, they are extremely engaging, the singer makes sure of that…I was just left wishing he’d actually sing a bit more because the few times that came through it was extremely enjoyable.
Sense of Urgency are driven by their horn parts, and that is by no means a bad thing. They’re the first band of the day to really get the crowd involved and have people fully singing along. Think early Less Than Jake or [spunge] if Less Than Jake had more angry, raspy vocals combined with more of Reel Big Fish’s horn parts. The Night We Exploded exposes some epic bass lines with driven horns and lovely harmonies. I can’t help but feel the vocals are somewhat out of place because the instrumental interludes are so tight and the sound is so well fused. However, I suppose that would just leave “another boring ska band”. The vocals add in an extra element that throws them further despite the fact it’s not the kindest on the ears.
Most dance-y act of the night goes to Black Star Dub Collective. So many people were in the room by this point that I could barely see the stage. With their blend of dub/ska and the featuring of melodica, keyboard and saxophone, you’d almost think the Skints had entered the room without you noticing. They had a variety of contrasting texture invading and creating a kind of chilled atmosphere with their raw vocals breaking it up somewhat. They really did get the crowds going, my only complaint being their songs were long and featured numerous interludes which often had nothing to define one from another. This aside, once their set was over there was a clear chorus of “that was amazing” from various crowd members so it seems they pleased!
I’m sorry to say that I think Hated Til Proven were the biggest disappointment of the day, whilst their songs are extremely punchy and driven, with their hardcore punk influences being very apparent, their breakdowns into more ska elements seemed to work better. Whilst they seem to be trying to do something different, it just didn’t really work as it just didn’t blend.
Faintest Idea bring what feels like the 20th wall of death of the evening with their raw vocals, brass focused ska punk. They‘re another band that seem to progress throughout their set as after a couple of songs in they suddenly achieve a massive sound with their harmonised horns (I really wish they’d tune properly next time though…), claiming a rougher sound using these instruments to really punctuate the overall sound.
Revenge of the Psychotronic Man are intense. Really intense. They display an older sound comparable with their incredibly speedy punk rock. This band is certainly not here to settle you, expressing a lot of rage throughout. I had a couple of favourite points in this set. One was the awkward moment when the vocalist states “I don’t know how to say this, but this one’s called Tramp Rape”. Suffice to say, the song contains plenty of chanting of “tramp rape” which seems to get the crowd all the more involved. The second highlight was the wheelbarrow of death for Felch Death Fuck Storm which shows just how much Manchester party it up as circle pits and human pyramids appear throughout this song.
Penultimate band of the night Beat the Red Light provide us with really loud punching horns, beating through the screams with amazing themes coming through from the bass and heavy guitar parts, contrasting to the staccato nature of the horns. It’s a complete mix up of metal, ska and punk. Their performance is extremely tight, timing is almost flawless, often a challenge with such a variety of instruments. Their songs are catchy due to the strength of the punchy rhythms that constantly push through from the brass. Pretty much everyone is dancing for their final few songs, and well, that can hardly be a bad thing.
We have to wait around a while whilst some rather novel raffle prizes are handed out…or at least they try to hand them out. People don’t seem too eager to claim them!
Stand Out Riot eventually jump straight into their album’s opener, Get Mutual, followed by Developing Detachment. I’ve seen them once before that I could remember, and even in those few months there seems to have been a dramatic change. They still have the most ridiculous amount of energy you could possibly wish to find in their ska punk party sounds which had the whole crowd dancing throughout. Developing Detachment has a really interesting build up as the instruments slowly join in, layering up until reaching their full sound which really does sound amazing tonight. I could actually hear the violin this time which is a bonus, adding another layer of texture to their sound, which fuses together brilliantly considering how much they manage to fit in. The singer’s vocals were also definitely on form tonight, another point of progression for this band.
Half way through vocalist suggests that “fucking hell, we’re eager” – they certainly are, and throughout the set I can’t help but fill with jealousy, I certainly can’t jump around and play viola at the same time, unlike these guys that seem to have no problem dancing around with their instruments. Law and Hors’douevres brings in a proper danceable Mexican vibe with their preppy horns and the party continues with swords fights on piggy backs emerging in the crowd. This has certainly been a surreal gig in many ways. Stand Out Riot have a specific sound with direction and focus like none of the others seen today. They really seem to know what they’re doing and one can only hope that they stick to it.
And so it’s over. By the end of the day of music, I’d be surprised if anyone here wasn’t shattered. It was a really energetic and long day, especially with all the human pyramids, walls of death and various other random things that Mancs like to incorporate in to their gigs. Two days later, I’m fairly sure I’m still not recovered from that shock to the system. Massive thanks to TNS: It’s rare that you can keep people entertained for a full 11 hours, but they certainly succeeded this time around.
Sonic Boom Six: Monto Water Rats
Posted by jamie on Mar 2, 2012
Sonic Boom Six
Monto Water Rats, Kings’ Cross, London
1st March, 2012
Jamie
A little while back, on our facebook, we shared this sharp little tumblr post, not just because I’m quoted, but primarily because, like everyone else, we’re on tenterhooks to see what Sonic Boom Six do next.
Manchester’s favourite genre terrorists have always been restlessly creative, courageously musically open-minded. It’s often little short of amazing that they come up with some of these ideas, let alone possess the ability and the sheer nerve required to go out and pull these things off.
And yet, time and again over the last ten years, they’ve been there, boldly going where none could have dreamed of going before. That the Ruff Guide, anticipated for so long, didn’t disappoint, was an achievement in itself, but to have raised the bar with every record released since is, quite frankly, ridiculous.
I know it is, because saying so has brought lots of retweets.
To aspire to raise the bar yet again is laudable. To achieve it, and take that in their stride would surely be something else.
Of course, to top 2009’s City of Thieves would take some doing*, and, while we wait with baited breath, that hype just keeps on building.
We’re waiting, in part, because the band are still choosing exactly who will release their next full length. As part of that process, they’ve played a number of showcases, usually in London, in the early part of 2012, to show some of the powers that be that they have the tunes and the support to be a worthwhile investment.
We in London have turned up in numbers time and again, and so, on Tuesday, this arrived on facebook:
Hey guys! Over the past few months we’ve leaned on you guys in London and the surrounding areas a good few times to come and support us while we’ve been working hard to get the new album out. Well, it’s time for us to give back! We’re going to be doing a full headline show at Kings Cross Monto Water Rats this Thursday for absolutely FREE!
The Monto is a brilliant small venue: an old-fashioned theatre tucked away a stone’s throw from King’s Cross. Outside, for central London, in rush hour, it’s peaceful, save the odd motorbike courier. Inside, the old place is already warm when we arrive (it always is, really), and bathed in a dim red light.
Support act Bogdana Chivas is just finishing off (sorry) and excitement is starting to peak.
After a lengthy soundcheck, Sonic Boom Six enter, as usual, one by one, and immediately explode in to life. Opener Virus confused one reviewer on their recent tour in to thinking it was an age-old fan favourite: in fact, it’s just one of many brand new fan favourites, but instantly the party’s started. City of Thieves’ The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Inventions and Bang, Bang, Bang, Bang! (the Midas remix) are out early in a setlist that’s otherwise heavy on the new material we’ve been so eager to see.
For the Kids of the Multiculture is received with a triumphant roar, and Laila when demands that “when this song kicks in, I want to see every motherfucker in here moving”, the response is inevitable: the roof comes off the tiny, sweaty place. At once the whole room leaps, in unison, in to the air: punching the chorus in to the air above us in rhythm. The Boom are Back.
Barney continues where that left off, introducing my favourite new track, The High Cost of Living: “this next song is very simple to dance to. When this beat drops..” the rest was unnecessary. Again. Pushed together like this, you couldn’t resist if you wanted to, but you can’t help yourself: such is the size of the beats and the basslines under the new material, and the quality of the songs and the performance, that it was always going to go off in here, let alone that the anticipation has been building for months, that the atmosphere is incredible.
With that inimitable, impish charm, Barney cheekily reminds us all:
“So, then, London town: thanks for coming out. It’s Thursday, it’s short notice.. but the fact that it’s free more than makes up for it, right..”
Giggles all around. Sonic Boom Six are loved here, and no mistake, but it’s genuinely touching that they’ve done this off their own backs as a thank you to us all.
You Will Survive, on its first ever outing, is excellent. We’ve heard it wasn’t quite there during soundcheck just minutes before doors, but, when it matters, Sonic Boom Six pull it out of the bag. Again.
A little medley of Dangers of Rock n’ roll, Lily Allen’s Friday Night and Wyclef’s It Doesn’t Matter is squeezed in between still more of those new songs: Gary Got a Gun and Keep on Believing are all excellent: Sonic Boom Six at their lyrically incisive, rabble rousing, genre-bending best. It takes me back, briefly, to that tumblr post.
Asher, its author, shared a little anecdote with me about catching up with James T Boom at this show in Milton Keynes.
Asked in April 2010 what he’d bring to the Boom’s sound clash, James used his the tips of the fingers on his right hand, palm down, to prod Asher’s ribs as he emphasised the last three words of his answer:
“I’m all about basslines that go right through you, and dubstep that fucks you up”.
This, of course, is the line-up, the setlist, and the record that will launch the post-Ben Childs era, and, while clearly staying true to the vicious mash punk rock, ska, jungle and hip-hop that’s brought them this far, SB6 have always been about to add those giant, gut shaking wob-wob-wobs.
Now that they’re finally here, they’ve given Sonic Boom Six that extra bit of spice, once again, to keep it all interesting and one step ahead of everything else. They’ve incorporated it in to their sound beautifully: Bang, Bang, Bang, Bang!, and Meanwhile, Back in the Real World sound meatier, more powerful than ever. Nick Horne could have played trombone on Meanwhile, instead that little line of melody is played on guitars and, just for a second, sounds a little bit – gasp! – classic rock. Just for a moment.
Sunny Side of the Street, gloriously, on the first day of Spring, and the first nice day here in ages, Flatline, and finally Piggy in the Middle bring the set to a triumphant climax. The excitement’s still building as the beat drops on that last song.
It’s not the last song: Strange Transformations and, wonderfully, Bigger than Punk Rock, are unleashed for a brief encore. It’s all any of us could have managed, and still, exhausted, we wouldn’t have gone home had we not been forcibly bundled first back in to the main bar and then back in to the road.
It’s been a long time coming, but, Sonic Boom Six are well and truly back, and, again, they’ve raised the bar: the anticipation has been all but unbearable, but, impossibly, it looks like they’re not just going to justify all of that, but that they’ve come back with something that surpasses all those expectations. Scarily, it feels like we’ll look back on nights like this, and, disbelievingly think of that new record: I didn’t think it’d be this good.
Happy Birthday, Neil. x
*Understatement. Not to combat any hyperbole, because I honestly believe SB6 are that good, that brave and that important. But reiterating it time and time again was getting a bit much for my poor mind.
Maroon Town: Urban Myths
Posted by jamie on Mar 2, 2012
Maroon Town
Urban Myths – Rockers Revolt, 2010
2nd March, 2012
Rosie
Until now I’d never heard of this band and I really can’t understand why, especially as they’ve been around for decades (literally). Clearly influenced by authentic Jamaican ska as well as pretty much everything else it would seem, this album comes to you from a 9 piece band providing an explosion of so many different genres from ska to rap to latin that the variation is never ending.
Opener Ya Ya (Lemme Tell Dem) really sets listeners up for the rest of the album with its infectious upbeat sounds, a real regage/ska beat with roaring harmonised horns, a sing along chorus and defiant lyrics. Second track, Lion arrives with a far softer feel, certainly calming after the last manic experience, exposing despairing lyrics giving it a deeper feel whilst maintaining the underlying ska rhythms, merged with the inclusion of violin pizzicato underneath. This along with the harmonised backing vocals is extremely soothing. This is an album built on vibrant variations.
Latin Moshpit adds a real salsa groove reflected in the peppy horns with a Mexican feel and continuous piano parts with a standard lilting rhythm throughout. This is followed by a complete contrast in the form of Wreckless which is noteworthy even if only because it contains some of the most intense and frenzied rapping you could ever hope to experience. Combine that with staccato horn parts and you have a furious track that still manages to retain its upbeat charms.
Jazz and latin vibes appearing from everywhere for their version of Watermelon Man, meanwhile Bullit is an instrumental ska driven track, displaying the brass in full form both with it’s amazing harmonies and trumpet solos, Skatalites-style. Innocent Minds exhibits some fantastic, soulful female vocals with Clarendon Calling following in a similar vein as the gradual build up of strings and quiet horns bring us to the end of this lively journey with Maroon Town.
This album incorporates almost everything you can think of and blends them in a vivacious manner, creating a thoroughly enjoyable album that almost resembles a cultural voyage. They certainly fit a lot in to just 10 songs. It really seems to push the boundaries through such a fusion whilst remaining clearly faithful to its Jamaican ska influences. If you ever wanted to know what ska/latin/rap/jazz sounds like when it’s all mixed together, now you’ll know.
Popes of Chillitown, the Snare, My Third Leg: IOE, London
Posted by jamie on Feb 26, 2012
Popes of Chillitown, the Snare, My Third Leg
IOE, London
24th February, 2012
Jamie
As Popes of Chillitown took tonight by the scruff of its neck, there was one brief moment where Austen Cruickshank paused for reflection, and informed us:
“You know, IOE, I wasn’t sure how this gig was going to go, but right now, I’m very fucking impressed”.
Impressed is the word, but, to put that remark in to context, this wasn’t exactly your ordinary gig. The University of London’s Institute of Education, or the IOE, is a postgraduate campus for student teachers, where many of the students are international.
It’s a pretty positive and welcoming place once you’ve navigated your way down to the Union (I’m pretty sure I came in the wrong way), but, tucked away in a corner between the bar and the patio, this show quickly outgrew its boundaries, meaning a few confused non-skankers had to pick their way through, often with big ring binders and other assorted classroom paraphernalia.
It’s not what any of us are used to, but, thanks to that positive and open-minded atmosphere, it just works. For a while I scribbled down notes next to a middle-aged Spanish man sleeping inside the Evening Standard, but by the end he was the only one not taking part, and had, at least, woken up.
We’d stumbled on the “You are here” sign in the street a few minutes too late, and got lost again inside the building: perhaps for the best, the bar seemed to be the only place that wasn’t signposted. It meant that we missed all but the very end of My Third Leg’s customarily high-speed, ratatat-tat ska-punk set. They seem to go down well, despite a few issues with the drums: “I had to re-write most of the drum lines”, Paul admitted afterwards, “during the songs”.
They’d certainly made a few friends, all the same, though, and had got the night off to a good start.
The Snare, on next, are a first-time-see for me. They’re a boisterously energetic, horn-powered, seven-piece two-tone band. Visually, as well as musically, they’re almost a caricature of what a ska band might be like as imagined by The Beano, or a Punch and Judy show, and I mean that in a very good way: theirs is a tried and tested brand of party-starting brass-heavy two-tone ska.
They waste no time getting started: from the word go, they’re straight in to their stride – bouncing up and down in time on stage, their singers taking every opportunity to step down in to the crowd where there’s more room to swing their legs around in a springy, gangly sort of skank: I’ve seen some moves in my time but sometimes these guys’ legs seem to have minds of their own.
It all goes down a storm: an initially nervous crowd quickly get the hang of it, start to shuffle, and soon there are smiles and sing-alongs all around.
In to all of this, then, step the Popes of Chillitown. It’s still new territory, of course, but, if anything, this just seems to spur them on: opener Blame Game is well received, and then, as that becomes the theme from Hawaii 5.0, the place goes absolutely nuts.
From here on, the floor just gets crazier, with all manner of moves coming out: the floor gets fuller and fuller, and, all of a sudden, you wouldn’t notice that the sliding doors out to the patio are open right behind the stage: it’s actually muggy in here – not baking hot, but the air is heavy with sweat. Matt’s lost his shirt and Austen is actually dripping a bit – his new white Popes t-shirt, the dog one, grey with that sweat and smeared with snakebite and not, as we had worried, his or someone’s blood.
As is usually the case with this lot, the night gets more surreal as it goes on, Austen and Matt eventually having a little argument as to whether or not we on the dancefloor should be leaving through those back doors to drag the smokers and shirkers in for a dance. In the end a few of them go, as the band move in to Tooting Ska Moon, and Austen’s actually behind the stage, as far as his mic cable will let him, ushering bewildered punters in while the band are actually playing.
Odd as it seems, though, it all just works: just like the night as a whole, it’s not something many of us would ever have imagined, but it goes down a treat. The band play Brave, and then Lazy Sunday and Dalking Man, and everyone, dragged in or not, is having a cheeky skank. Unless they’re actually dancing salsa, or breakdance, or some crazy foxtrot stuff that had a circle cleared around it at some point. This lot can dance, and, if they haven’t been to a punk show before, they just dance however they feel they want to. We’re all just doing our own thing down here, and it sort of just goes together. It’s surreal, and definitely totally unique, but it fits together perfectly.
Badman is last, before a mock encore (the band couldn’t actually leave the stage, but we all agreed we’d pretend) of the Outhere Brothers’ Boom Boom Boom.
I don’t know how they did it, but our international collection of teaching students found another level: gleefully racing through whatever moves they could find as the Popes cheekily dismantle the song, rebuilding it as they go along in to a high-speed ragga/punk riot that growls where it used to rap and runs around until it’s pushed just to breathe.
The response is rapturous. Everybody wants more, but the show is sadly finished. At IOE, the students vote as to whether each band is allowed back. This strange coming together will surely be cheered back on this evidence.
Sonic Boom Six: the Cluny, Newcastle
Posted by jamie on Feb 22, 2012
Sonic Boom Six, Hildamay, Rossi Noise
The Cluny, Newcastle
6th February 2012
Dave
This is my first review ever (but not the first gig I have been to) so be gentle with me as I try and guide you through my night with three cool bands.
On arrival at The Cluny Laila K (yes, THE Laila from Sonic Boom Six) met us in the car park and took us into the building as we were a bit early.
When I got into the room that housed a stage, bands equipment and the bar I was somewhat surprised at just how small it is. The place is tiny but still managed to pack in everything needed for the night. Anyone going there will be pleased to know Cider is about £2.80 a pint 
The first band, Rossi Noise, came on at about 8.30 and at first I was unsure if I liked them but somehow they just grew on me. I’d never heard them before and found the mix of electronic trickery coupled with the heavy beats and hip hop odd but enjoyable. Since seeing them I have listened to their stuff a bit more so they must have left a lasting impression. Only comment I feel I have to make is that the lead singer had an expression on his face that scared the crap outta me!
After a great show from Rossi Noise came Hildamay. I got the impression that they were the wrong band in the wrong venue. The place was too small for their big noise, not enough of an audience to give enough energy and it appeared that the band were near to tripping over each other through lack of space on the stage. Hildamay, whilst appearing very professional at what they do, just didn’t hit the spot for me. It didn’t help that they were sandwiched between Rossi Noise and Sonic Boom Six – two entirely different genres of music.
As anticipated, SB6 came on stage and blew the place away! As soon as they started playing the place came alive, they played favourites like ‘Kids of the Multi Culture’ and ‘Sunny Side of the Street’ with a cover of a Lilly Allen track, finally finishing off with ‘Piggy in the Middle’. The energy from the group as a whole was pretty amazing to watch. The last SB6 gig I had tickets for was cancelled amid much confusion and disappointment so for me, hearing Laila K telling us the band are actively trying to get more gigs in the North East was even more music to my ears – we don’t see them up this neck of the woods often enough!
One observation I feel is worth making is that it must be quite disappointing for the bands playing The Cluny as the place is so small it’s not possible to get a big audience, making it harder for the bands to get the ‘crowd’ involved - I would have liked to put that question to the bands but they probably wouldn’t want to pull the rug from under their feet.
New Found Glory: Camden Roundhouse
Posted by jamie on Feb 20, 2012
New Found Glory
Roundhouse, Camden
17th February, 2012
Jamie
Camden’s Roundhouse is a stunning venue. On this crystal clear North London evening, you can stand on the second floor, where the walls are full-length windows, and see all the way down Chalk Farm Road in to central London without spotting one cloud.
It’s a bit like one part of the blurred intro sequence to BBC1’s glossy detective drama Sherlock, at least until you look straight down on to the usual Friday carnage, tonight swelled by hordes of hyped-up pop-punkers squashed in to lines in between mesh fences. Larry from NASIN, of course, is doing the rounds.
Five guys have come dressed as hair-sprayed, LA metallers: you know, big, crimped blonde wigs, spray-on trousers, the whole Nick Horne look.
Inside, we’re up in an equally lofty little perch: it’s like Boris Pigeon for the night up here. In a round room, it’s sort of like everyone’s dead in front of Jordan Pundik, but we actually are right ahead of him, as New Found Glory enter, to a rapturous reception, and crunch straight in to the enormous opening riffs of All Down Hill From Here.
Of course it’s totally deserved, but every time I watch New Found Glory I’m amazed at the sheer adulation that they inspire: despite the fact that their melodic pop-punk has become spikier, more aggressive, a truer reflection of their hardcore roots: they’re just as sincere as they ever were, and, on top of those giant riffs, still bigger waves of almost reverent adulation roll back on to them.
It’s totally apt, then, when Chad announces:
“We are all losers, nerds, rejects in this crowd. We are one big family”
From here, the night seems to find another level: the atmosphere was already beyond incredible, but climbs another notch after that: Head on Collision, predictably is a fan favourite, and moves seamlessly, if somewhat surprisingly, in to the Ramones’ Blitzkreig Bop: their cover somehow manages to be both surprisingly faithful to the original, and at the same time quintessentially NFG: Jordan’s vocal, as ever, so typically his own, as nasal as Joey Ramone’s but in a completely different way, and the guitar parts played just fuzzily enough to make the song New Found Glory-sweet and still pack a killer punch.
Another speech, professing the band’s love for anyone who has (note: not bought*) their album Radiosurgery, introduces Anthem for the Unwanted.
It’s breathless stuff in here now: the band eagerly racing through a hit-packed set, and a word-perfect room greedily gobbling up every minute of it: Hold My Hand, Kiss Me and then Dressed 2 Kill, “for all the old-school New Found Glory fans”, become one in a giddy, ecstatic blur before Forget My Name, It’s Not Your Fault and Hit or Miss bring the set to a close. Up in the rafters, we’ve ridden through this on waves of warm emotion: I’m feeling fuzzy even before the band return for an all-too-brief encore: just Green Day’s Basket Case and My Friend’s Over You. Somehow, by now, the stage is full: Chad plays the last song with a blue-haired man on his shoulders. It’s somehow fitting: right now, just for a moment, we are, indeed, all one family. We leave exhausted, uplifted, back in to the freezing cold, cloudless night, still taking that unity with us, the inner warmth we’ve gained an extra protection against the late winter chill.
*They did seem to encourage illegal downloading. That’s not something we endorse, though.
