Following (and overlapping) the recent/current set of female poptronic gigs in London (with Caroline Polachek, Imogen Heap, Yeule and others), here are some more.
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Alice Hubble (best known as half of tweetronic duo Arthur & Martha) has been striking out on her own this year and is playing at Servant Jazz Quarters on the 5th. Her debut album ‘Polarlichter’, driven by iPad workings on long journeys and transformed at home via Mellotrons and analogue synths, apparently stems from wistful envisionings of faraway places (including Ruby Falls in Chatanooga, USA, Lake Louise in the Canadian Rockies and Dubai’s Atlantis Palm hotel) plus “a desire to work on a project without constraints, to move away from the traditional song writing process and to experiment with the form. Inspired by the ’70s recordings by Tangerine Dream, Ashra and even Mike Oldfield, Alice wanted to take a more delicate approach; a distinctly feminine take on (an) often pompous ’70s progressive synth sound. Other inspirations include Delia Derbyshire, Daphne Oram, Lee Hazlewood’s Swedish recordings and 80’s American synth pop band The Book of Love.”
A good set of reference points, although if you are going to snark about the pomposity of your male predecessors it’s best if you’ve built something startlingly different. Much of Alice’s work still cleaves rather closely to those familiar silvery Germanic/kosmische synth tropes, the cautiousness of several generations of post-Tangerine Dream acolytes, albeit with twists of post-punk melancholy and Stereolab-ilk avant-pop.
As for the femininity, it’s present mostly in the preoccupations of Alice’s lyrics, such as the stern reflections on male gaze and pedestal-placing on ‘Goddess’ (“a man idolising a woman to the point that he doesn’t see her as a person. His ‘love’ is all consuming and the focus of his affection is seen merely as an object. As a result he consumes her and takes from her until she has little left, but thankfully she finds the inner strength to walk away.”). All well and good to state; but, given that the song’s mostly concerned with climbing inside its misguided protagonist in order to critique him from within, leaving the woman in question almost as enigmatic, idealised and unexamined as he did, I’m not altogether convinced. But perhaps I’m snarking now – either way, I can’t help but feel that there’s better to come. Alice has a quiet, determined voice: maybe, at the gig, we’ll find out what else it has to say.
Support comes in two parts, one being from jazztronic array Blick Trio, made up of veteran polymathic brass-and-wind-player Robin Blick (from the sprawling Blick/Blake musical dynasty that also includes Mediaeval Baebes’ Katherine Blake), drummer Andrew Moran (who’s put in time in groups including The Violets and Not Cool) and bass player/synth programmer James Weaver (who already plays with Robin in Gyratory System). Prior to Gyratory System, Robin was also in Blowpipe; with both these and the Trio, he’s been building jazz/clubtronic/kosmiche meldings for a good couple of decades. The Trio, however, lean more towards “post-punk rhythms and straight jazz melodies” than the club beats and electrofuzz racket of the previous acts; with Robin’s musicality and wide genre-savviness in particular calling up aural and harmonic/melodic imagery from riffling snake-charmer music to pithead brass band melancholia.
The other support act is Merlin Nova, who vigorously straddles the space between musician and sound artist. Too tuneful to work consistently in the latter mode, and too flat-out sonically ambitious and diverse to be restrained by the former, she instead works both of them to the bone. She creates, records and broadcasts whatever comes to her mind, whether it’s surreal foley-bolstered persona narratives, soundscaped poetry or unorthodox fragmented songs across a vocal range from femme-baritone to skyscraping whistle register.
Merlin’s most recent pair of Soundcloud offerings illustrate her restlessness. Just Calling is one of her most straightforward works (a vocal and reverbscape’d love-song of faith, degrees of separation, faith and independence), while To The Sun is a drone-strings-and-vocalise solar prayer half an hour long, equal parts Alquimia and Sofia Gubaidulina. There’s plenty more to find there, evidence of an ambitious sound creator who’s tapping at the heels of multiple precursors… Ursula Dudziak, Cathy Berberian, outer-limits Björk, Maja Ratkje…
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On the 12th, left-field synthpop writer Carla Dal Forno comes to Electrowerks trailing her newest album ‘Look Sharp’, in which “the small-town dreams and inertia that preoccupied (her) first album have dissolved into the chaotic city, its shifting identities, far-flung surroundings and blank faces”, thanks to her wanderings from her Melbourne origins to London via Berlin, telling “the story of this life in flux, longing for intimacy, falling short and embracing the unfamiliar.”
Sonically it’s frowning post-punk basslines and pearly sheens around subtle hollows; occasional touches of plainsong; arrangements stroked into shape by psychedelic-via-radiophonic synthesizer bends, swoops and flutters – a big step up from the queasy lo-fi wobble of her debut. As with Alice Hubble, Carla rarely changes tone vocally, etching momentary stories of subtle revenges, covert assignations and bleak reflectiveness with the same abbreviated unruffled whispercroon; delivering songs with the crisp, faux-reticent undertones and hardnosed observation of a finishing-school ace who’s opted to spend the rest of her life speaking softly but carrying a sharp hatpin. Simultaneously minimalist and expansive, sensual and austere, revealing and forbidding, the songs of ‘Look Sharp’ are measured diary entries enclosed in dove-grey leather, giving away little but hinting at much more. It’s as if one of the early versions of the Cure had agreed to back Jean Rhys during a venture into confessional songcraft, with Delia Derbyshire adding sonic filigrees.
The whole record sounds attractively antiquated. Not in terms of its harking back to early ‘80s proto-Goth, but in the way it feels as if it’s been written for (and in) a monochrome London of the 1930s: sparser crowds, the hiss of steam trains and the rattle of heels in empty housing courts. In fact, ‘Look Sharp’ functions best when Carla relinquishes the more obvious darkwave thrumbles, loses the bass and trusts to her electrophonic textures and spaces. This lends the instrumentals a touch of 5am light, an air of sneaking out into an unfamiliar town while it’s still slumbering unguarded, with a dream-frown shadowing its features. For songs such as Don’t Follow Me (with its deepening undertone of sexual threat), it allows a more sophisticated atmosphere to build, sound becoming character in the way that scenery and lighting do in film.
In support, there’s electronicist, live-looper and spatial explorer Maria Rossi – a.k.a Cucina Povera. As anyone who’s covered Maria before will tell you, “cucina povera” translates as “poor kitchen” – like “poor theatre”, a way of making the most of minimal ingredients and lean times: indeed, of making a virtue of the enforced simplicity, to the point of deliberately choosing it. Maria’s most recent project – ‘Zoom’, released back in January – had her strip back her already-minimal gear choices to just voice and loop pedal plus the digital recorder which gave the record its name: bar the very occasional bit of huffed or clinked bottlework, or synth bloop, that was it.
Last year’s ‘Hilja’ album applied the Cucina Povera methodology to a gaseous, beatless, haunting form of ambient art pop. It was full of folk-ghosts in the machine, bringing along hints of the ecclesiastic, of children’s songs and of traditional song fragments, much of it pillowed on vaporous keyboard textures and meticulous arrangements. In contrast, the Zoom pieces were recorded in “intimate spaces full of acoustic or ideological intrigue” and were a set of impromptu, improvised rituals-for-their-own-sake. Sometimes gabbled, frequently hymnal and monastic, blurring between established language and glossolalia, they build on the mysteriousness of ‘Hilja’ while venturing into more musically naked areas, taking from the previous album’s most cut-down moments without falling back on its cloudy synth-padded comforts or its pleasing banks of harmony.
Whether these pieces can be transported, translated and performed afresh in other locations is not so clear. Perhaps, for Electrowerks, Maria will improvise a new set in honour of the Slimelight’s fallen ghosts.
Also stirred into the evening’s menu will be a DJ set from darker techno/DIY/industrial specialist Kenny White of the Low Company record store.
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At the other end of the spectrum, there’s a splash of raucous female colour. Riding the momentum from the release of her debut album last month (if you’re a budding remixer or mash-upper, Bandcamp has it complete with sample and stem packs), Rachel K. Collier plays the Grand in Highbury in mid-November, with live percussion and interactive visuals augmenting her storm of sequencers, keyboards and Abletoning. Her house-inspired, undulating electronic club pop has been evolving over six years or so now, including bold intrusions into the world of adverts, collaborations with garage/house stars Wookie, Mat Zo and Ray Foxx, and more recently her current fearless-sounding solo work.
It’s a powerfully assured and complete pop sound, fusing full dancefloor momentum with righteous girl-power; although one that’s been achieved in the face of considerable bullying, scorn and condescension along the way from male musicians. (If the fuck-you beat and withering dismissal in her Dinosaur single is anything to go by. You can’t say that she didn’t get her own back. Success is the best revenge.)
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Dates:
Parallel Lines presents:
Alice Hubble + Blick Trio & Merlin Nova Servant Jazz Quarters, 10a Bradbury Street, Dalston, London, N16 8JN, England
Tuesday 5th November 2019, 7.30pm – information here, here and here
Upset The Rhythm presents:
Carla dal Forno + Cucina Povera Electrowerkz @ The Islington Metal Works, 1st Floor, 7 Torrens Street, Islington, London, EC1V 1NQ, England
Tuesday 12th November 2019, 7.30pm – information here and here
Rachel K Collier The Grace, 20-22 Highbury Corner, Highbury, London, N5 1RD, England
Tuesday 19th November 2019, 7.00pm – information here, here and here
More News From Nowhere presents:
MNFN Good Friday All-Dayer (featuring Kodian Trio + Warren Schoenbright + V Ä L V E + Marlo Eggplant + Minus Pilots + Ow Te + Blick | Trio + Grave Threat + Red Team) New River Studios, Ground Floor Unit E, 199 Eade Road, Manor House, London, N4 1DN, England
Friday 30th March 2018, 3.00pm – information here and here
Walthamstow experimental evening More News From Nowhere hops the Lea again for another stint at the New River Studios in Harringay: this time an all-dayer.
A number of improvising threesomes are on hand. Kodian Trio (tagged as “meticulously disjointed free improv” by ‘Cyberinsekt’) unites saxophonist and Raw Tonk label head Colin Webster (who played at MNFN’s February event), Belgian dronetronic guitarist Dirk Serries (better known as Vidna Obmana or Fear Falls Burning) and Shatner’s Bassoon drummer Andrew Lisle. A more directly ambient-jazz approach is offered by Blick | Trio (comprising Blowpipe/Gyratory System veteran Robin Blick on assorted wind and brass, Andrew Moran on drums and James Weaver on bass, synth and programming). It’s a bit of a competition, but probably the least formal of the lot are Stoke-on-Trent-based “math-jazz wizards”Ow Te (featuring members of Stokie punks Amateur Assassins and Bong Idle, and citing a love of Karate, Codeine and The For Carnation, among others).
Another trio is being brought in by reedswoman and experimentalist Chlöe Herington: her increasingly industrious V Ä L V E project continues to build on its beginnings (synaesthesic graphic scores created and realised by Chlöe, bound in with specific memories and events) while simultaneously evolving into a R.I.O./Raincoats-friendly three-woman exploration vehicle via reeds, bass, concert harp and voices. Further female input into the all-dayer is provided by Marlo Eggplant (the Corpus Callosum label head, onetime Olympia punk and lead figure in the “Ladyz In Noyz” initiative), whose own dense drone improvisations are built with processed autoharp and contact mics.
As regards duos, there’s an appearance from Minus Pilots (percussionist Matt Pittori and bassist Adam Barringer, who “weave sparse textures, crumbling atmospheres and fractured drones with currents of gentle crackle”) and from slithering, thickety London drums-and-electronics pairing Warren Schoenbright (Daniel McClennan and Matthew Pastkewicz) who craft lengthy, ambitious and luminous experiments from poised near-silence to hammering viciousness.
A collaboration between two other projects (the “hard Brexit/funeral electronics” of Ashcircle and the effects-chain noise of MNFN’s own Tim Cowlishaw as Violence) was scheduled to lead to Cruciform Passage Grave: something slanting towards the New Weird Britain end of sinister occult soundcraft. In the event, this needed more rehearsal than time allowed; so instead, Tim’s bringing in Cowboy Flying Saucer drummer Dave Bamford to open up the evening with a reunion of their “kraut-psych-improv-noise” duo Red Team (while Ashcircle’s Tom Macarte and Ciaran Mackle reformat themselves as the siren-in-a-washing-machine screech of Grave Threat).
IKLECTIK and Kate Carr present:
Hadi Bastani + Pouya Ehsaei IKLECTIK, Old Paradise Yard, 20 Carlisle Lane, Waterloo, London, SE1 7LG, England
Wednesday 14th March 2017, 7.30pm – information here and here
For this event, London-based sound artist Kate Carr curates a showcase of Iranian experimental electronic music, centring on artists from Tehran: a scene mapped and logged by by sound artist and anthropologist Hadi Bastani (via the Digital Arts and Experimental Music Scene of Iran Facebook page from his own base in the Sonic Arts Research Centre at Queen’s University, Belfast).
For all of the focus on Tehran, everyone involved in the concert (from Kate on down) seems to be a diasporan: Hadi living and working in Belfast, gigmate Pouya Ehsaei based in London, and even Kate’s an emigre from Australia. As for originally scheduled third act and “chaotic worlds” envisioners 9T Antiope, in spite of their Iranian origins they’re actually based as nearby as France… and can’t make it as planned, since it seems that even pre-Brexit, visas can be as hard to get in Paris as they might be in Tehran. It all adds a slightly mournful sheen to the occasion. Tehran may have been the original testing ground, but it’s not sending any immediate representatives; and leaving it doesn’t always seem to have made things easier.
Maybe I’m splitting hairs too much. The scheduled appearances by Hadi and Pouya are still on track. In addition to his own sonic contributions, Hadi will be providing an introduction to (and discussion of) the Tehran scene; while Pouya (already a veteran collaborator with dancers, performers and filmmakers as well as other experimental musicians) will be displaying his mixture of “found sounds and folkloric music… focusing on their aesthetics and cultural significance and how these can be applied in modern experimental compositions”. Meanwhile, if you’re curious about what you’re missing due to the absence of 9T Antiope, see below:
A busy week: I should just remind you that tickets might still be available for the second of this month’s two London Annette Peacock gigs at Cafe Oto (the one on Monday) and that the combined Vennart/Knifeworld/Cleft tour is sweeping across Britain during the week (leaving a lot of fans of math/psych/twitch-rock bobbing happily in its wake), but there’s more coming too.
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At the start of the week, Ismena Collective present a multi-media piece. More information below, at length (cobbled together from assorted press releases, bits of essays, etc…)
Ismena Collective presents ‘Anaïs Nin: The Lie Box’ (The Forge, 3-7 Delancey Street, Camden Town, London, NW1 7NL, UK, Monday 23rd November 2015, 7:30 pm) – £12.00 – information & tickets
Formed in 2008 by Mayda Narvey and Sara Cluderay, Ismena Collective is an eclectic group of musicians, singers, composers, writers and actors inspired by multi-disciplinary collaborations and the synthesis of music and words. Their unusual and innovative projects have explored subjects as diverse as the 19th century German Romantics and the 1942 New York arts commune to which Benjamin Britten and WH Auden belonged. Performing in venues across London and beyond, they have delighted audiences with their genre-defying presentations and their insightful approach to the manner in which literature can elucidate music and music can illuminate literature.
Collaborating with dramaturg and director Danielle Allen, Ismena has created a new and unusual theatrical collage of music and words exploring the world of diarist and novelist Anaïs Nin, whose complex, chaotic but compelling inner and outer lives involved many transgressions and secret affairs. Her father (a Cuban-Spanish composer and pianist) was her first love and it was his abandonment of the family and her subsequent complicated relationship with him that engendered both her passion for music and her passion for lies. In her journals, she documented her own fragmentation into Self and Other, and thinly disguised herself in her fiction as a spectrum of different characters. Married to two husbands at the same time, she negotiated her “bicoastal trapeze” between her West coast and East coast relationships by keeping track of her lies in a “Lie Box”.
Nin wrote constantly about lies, confessing “when I talk, I feel that I lie imperceptibly in order to cover myself. I put on costumes. I hate to expose myself truly… The truth is I only face human beings in fragments… I always find the mensonge vital necessary — the one lie which separates me from each person… I have a sense of all that I leave out – the lacunae, especially the dreams, the hallucinations. Also the lies are left out, a desperate necessity to embellish. So I do not write them down. The journal is therefore a lie.” In fact, she reworked and rewrote her diaries constantly until they became well-honed works of fiction.
In the words of her composer brother, Joaquin Nin-Culmell (from his introduction to her childhood diaries, ‘Linotte’): “Later she reinterpreted many events, many situations, many impressions. Linotte may seem to contradict these later interpretations, but I do not feel that this is so. After all, reality is many layered. We peel off one layer only to discover that the process must be repeated. It is evident from the very beginning that Anais’s heart went out to the intuitive, to the poetic, to the magic of subjectivity.”
It is fascinating to reflect upon this uneasy relationship between truth and fiction, between reality and lies. It is equally fascinating to ponder Nin’s relationship to music which seemed to embody for her both her sensuality and her creativity. In her own words, “jazz is the music of the body. The breath comes through brass. It is the body’s breath and the strings’ wails and moans are echoes of the body’s music. It is the body’s vibrations which ripple from the fingers. And the mystery of the withheld theme, known to jazz musicians alone, is like the mystery of our secret life. We give to others only peripheral improvisations. When he was five years old, my brother Joaquin, a spirited and restless child no one could tame, would spend hours absolutely still on the staircase of our home in Brussels, listening to the musicians rehearsing. That was the sign of his vocation. We both listened. I can still hear the lines of Bach which were most often repeated. Joaquin became a musician and in me music was channeled into writing.”
With score and presentation inspired by the soundworld of the surreal art films Nin performed in during the 1940s (and reprising some of the fascinating selections of Nin’s writing and her father and brother’s compositions that Ismena performed in May of this year) ‘The Lie Box’ explores Nin’s life, the musical influences that threaded through it, and the uneasy ground between truth and fiction. As Joaquin Nin-Culmell put it: “After all, reality is many layered. We peel off one layer only to discover that the process must be repeated. It is evident from the very beginning that Anaïs’ heart went out to the intuitive, to the poetic, to the magic of subjectivity.”
For ‘The Lie Box’, Ismena-founding cellist, composer and writer Mayda Narvey performs with actress Sally Mortemore, Danish soprano Lene Sahlholdt and pianist Horacio López Redondo. All four are also working in conjunction with music by electronic composer Daniel Thomas Freeman (whose evocative score to the British indie film ‘Catch Me Daddy’ was heard in cinemas across the country earlier this year).
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Over the next two days, there are two Baba Yaga’s Hut gigs in rapid succession. At time of posting, both of these look set to sell out soon, so move fast if you’re interested. The first of them, on the Tuesday, sees the London debut of two interesting American bands.
From Athens in Georgia, four-piece Maserati style themselves as being “sleek, sexy and sophisticated as the legendary Italian sports car” and meticulously tailor various musical loves together – English psychedelic artiness (Pink Floyd, Eno), its parallel German precision (Tangerine Dream, Ash Ra Tempel) and post-psych, post-punk arena-rock swagger (U2, ZZ Top). The cocky, stiffly-shaking result is not a million miles away from what post-rock pomp-boys Trans-Am might have produced if they’d been a little less clenched. Maserati’s Moroder-ified robo-psych seems to be aimed at inducing rock club crowds into unselfconscious flappy dancing: hitting an unexpected triggerpoint at which art-rock meets headbanging meets drone grooves, and where maths twitches the pelvis. You’d expect them to play to an audience of silent, ecstatic mannequins.
Support comes from bicoastal U.S duo Insect Ark. Finding their own space between doom metal crush, ritual experimental loops, wall-of-noise grandeur and the kind of spacious, springy and hypnotic percussion that brings to mind both Can and Steve Jansen, Dana Schechter (bass and lap steel guitar, synths) and Ashley Spungin (drums and electronics) create engrossing and ancient-sounding all-instrumental soundscapes filled with the baleful, the mournful, the grinding and the flat-out apocalyptically lovely.
On the Wednesday, it’s the turn of some London-based crews. Well, not entirely London-based…
The Comet Is Coming + Snapped Ankles + Flamingods (Baba Yaga’s Hut @ The Shacklewell Arms, 71 Shacklewell Lane, Shacklewell, London, E8 2EB, UK, Wednesday 25th November 2015, 8.00pm) – £7.00 – information – tickets
Formed in mid-2014, The Comet Is Coming are what happened when Betamax Killer and Danalogue The Conqueror (the duo behind synthpunktronica band Soccer96 joined forces with London reeds polymath Shabaka Hutchings. Like a punkier, power-trio take on Jaga Jazzist, Betamax and Danalogue generate a wall of stiff, arresting dayglo nu jazz grooves on drumkit and analogue synths, on which Shabaka – like a grand graffiti professor – bursts and tags figures from his battery of saxophones.
The results blur Soccer96’s omnivorous dance music tastes and conversational punky immediacy with Shabaka’s deep and broad engagement with jazz, African, free and classical forms; all tempered with a shared shamanic, psychedelic approach to jam and composition and with a dash of pulpy science fiction mysticism. These ideas spill all over their debut EP, released late last week; from the lead track Neon Baby (in which a Moroder/motorik pulse is set against freewheeling chiptune, phased tom passes and ballsy Afrobeat sax riffs) to the pop-up computerised jump jive of Do The Milky Way or the larger-form compositional tapestry of Star Exploding In Slow Motion.
More punktronica comes from “pagan funk, art wave dropouts” support band Snapped Ankles. Performing in huge and shaggy walking-hedge costumes (based on the legends of the Woodwose, or ancient European wild-man-of-the-woods), the trio thump out gnarly drum-filled collaboration grooves on customised instruments and describe themselves as an “agricultural Kraftwerk”.
Also on the bill are Flamingods, Britain-and-Bahrain-based worldbeat globalists who form their music from instinctive, unschooled plucking and hammering on assorted regional instruments collected from around the world. Both their intuitive adapt-and-make-do approach and their displaced, separated way of life (the seed of the project came from when group member Kamal Rasool was pushed out of Britain by visa restrictions, and group members variously live in, work in or trace roots to London, Dubai and Jamaica) echo the varied plights, both good and bad, of latterday migrants and world-trotters. For those interested in more of what this might cast up, Flamingods are also heading an evening of global exotica and cross-cultural DJing at their own event, Eastern Mystics, on the Friday, at Café 1001 in Brick Lane – details here.
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For the second week in a row, I get to welcome a new London music night. More News From Nowhere are launching a series of “experimental/noise/generally interesting left-field music” up in Walthamstow/ At their debut night, they’re promising “a double-headline masterclass in brass-and-electronics brilliance.”
Gyratory System + Hirvikolari + Fragments Of Space Hex + Luke Turner of The Quietus DJ set (More News From Nowhere@ The Victoria, 188 Hoe Street, Walthamstow, London, E17 4QH, UK, Wednesday 25th November 2015, 8.00pm) £4.40-£6.00 – information – tickets
Back in the earlier days of ‘Misfit City’ (late ‘90s, pre-blog) I covered a jazztronica band called Blowpipe, of which the core members were father-and-son horn team Robin and Andrew Blick and which mutated through various lineups, bouncing off various passing and evolving dance forms while threading their own impressive knowledge and multi-instrumental adaptability through them. Blowpipe may have petered out, but only in order to make a further mutation into Gyratory System(the Blicks plus James Weaver), who make a slightly different noise, steering away from subverting club beats in favour of making a “brass-inflected kosmiche racket” heavy on Andrew Blick’s multi-levelled synth programming but maintaining Blowpipe’s cunning way with a breezy hook.
Hirvikolari, a splinter group from psychedelic rock band Teeth Of The Sea, are effects-ridden trumpeter Sam Barton and
modular synth interferer Mike Bourne. While Teeth Of The Sea tend to play great stomping horror-slabs of musical architecture (a flying saucer spitting out rows and rows of heavily-armed tower blocks) Hirvikolari prefer to take the slow path and evolve themselves a great bolus of stewed electronic burble and resonating brass tracks. Ennio Morricone’s been cited as a comparison, as has the long tradition of counter-culture festival techno: both comparisons have some grounding.
Also playing are Fragments Of Space Hex, synth experimentalists given to hypnotic jams: behind the mocking and probably bogus Crosby Stills Nash & Young obsessions they’re Andrew Nixon (who usually plays as drone-kosmiche scenarist Deathcount In Silicone Valley) and Ciaran Mackle (of dub-techno project Ashplant). To keep things ticking along, half of the Hamburger Ladies (i.e, Luke Turner of ‘The Quietus’) will be playing a DJ set.
There’ll be another More News From Nowhere night in late December – hopefully the second of many. I’ll preview that in due course.
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Two gigs follow featuring ‘Misfit City’ favourites The Fierce & The Dead who should need no introduction to regular readers – for those of you fresh into these pages, you can familiarise yourself with their friendly, gnarled prog-punk-highlife-whatever hybrid via the clip above.
Crippled Black Phoenix + The Fierce & The Dead (Fire & Air @ The Dome, 2A Dartmouth Park Hill, Tufnell Park, London, N19 5QQ, UK, Thursday 26th November 2015, 7.00pm) – £15.00 – information – tickets
Following a tumultous couple of years in which they were hobbled by a bitter internal feud, Crippled Black Phoenix have regrouped, reshuffled and reasserted. Now they’re on tour again, in all of their usual looming, black-clouded, apprehensive glory. As ever, their mixture of sombre folk balladry, political resistance and seething post-rock volume is realised by an expanded octet of massed guitars and keyboards, with strings, saws and anything else which fits plugged in where necessary.
With The Fierce And The Dead in the middle of the gig sandwich, the third band on the bill is Masakichi, another of the musical brainchildren of guitarist/producer Reuben Gotto (of prog band Twin Zero and various business with Foals, Sack Trick, The Maccabees and others). Masakichi dwell on the careful cusp between the springy rhythms shared by bass player Hattie Williams (formerly of post-progressive rockers Telegraphs) and drummer Ben Calvert and the more Gothic, textural tendencies of Reuben and singer Hannah Cartwright (the latter of whom also holds down a gig with folktronicists Snow Ghosts). The result is a winning mixture of sinewy motions, carefully blurred riffs and atmospheres, and (for once) icicle-clear vocals that don’t hide in a lazy haze of recycled shoegazery. See for yourselves:
The Fierce & The Dead get to headline on Friday at another gig, way up the road in Nottingham. I’d not heard of former warehouse venue J.T. Soars, but it sounds as if we have another art-rock outpost in the Midlands, which is cause for celebration.
The Fierce & The Dead + Mannheim + Memory Of Elephants (bUTTONpUSHER & Mountains Of Records @ J.T. Soars, Aberdeen Street, Nottingham, NG3 2DG, UK, Friday 27th November 2015, 8.00pm) – £3.00-£4.00 – information – tickets on the door
Of the other two bands on the bill, Memory Of Elephants are an “eclectic noise” trio from Bristol whose grinding metallic base-sound is belied, stretched and exploded by the quickfire changes of time, pattern, mood and arrangement which they put it through: they’re a restless, conspiratorial mask-dance of a band. Mannheim are a heavy quartet from the Netherlands: saxophone, guitar, bass guitar and drums applied to a stern headcrushing math-and-post-rock structure. Up in the metal end of post-rock, they’re overpowering but somehow vulnerable – like a dogged, accelerating stilt-charge with a snarling dark-jazz edge.
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Three more varied London gigs on Friday:
Jimmy Cannon: The Best Of British Song (Songs From The Cellar @ Zelas Cafe, 216 Archway Road, London, N6 5AX, UK, Friday 27th November 2015, time) – no ticket price available yet – information – tickets on the door
In the first performance of a new show, Jimmy Cannon explores the repertoire of the ‘Great British Songbook’: the songs associated with British composers and singers from the golden age of songwriting. As he comments, “the much-loved American Songbook reflects Hollywood’s heyday, from the first ‘talkies’ in the 1920s right up to the demise of the legendary Hollywood orchestras in the late 1960s – but many of these great songs aren’t quite as American as you might think!” For this show, Jimmy will be accompanied by pianist Matthew Regan (from The John Wilson Orchestra).
Jimmy is a current British easy-listening star – a versatile singer and saxophonist who has performed with Tom Jones and in West End shows (The Commitments, The Rat Pack, Elvis The Ultimate Performance) and in the classic-swing/soul/pop band Jazz Cannons. However, he’s also a song historian, an arranger and an adapter, bringing his curiosity, knowledge and skills to bear on a wide variety of songs. Drawing on his Cornish roots, Jimmy also sings in the English Heritage band Burton Bradstock – a collaboration with pianist and arranger Dorian Ford which nurtures and revives a repertoire of English folk songs (predominantly mid-to-late 19th century work songs) in brand new settings performed by a band of British jazz luminaries including Iain Ballamy, Julian Ferraretto, Riaan Vosloo, Tim Giles and Pete Berryman.
Damn Vandals + Kloq + The Bay + The Many Few + Santonica (Bugbear @ The Dublin Castle, 94 Parkway, Camden Town, London, NW1 7AN, UK, Friday 27th November, 8.00pm) – £5.00-£7.00 – information – tickets
The endearing Many Few (reviewed at an early stage back here) are playing at a “nights-are-drawing-in, gearing-up-for-Christmas, never-mind-the-November-dismals-come-and-do-the-Exquisite-Shark gig”. I’ve got to admit that the charm of their own gently skewed, probably-less-shambling-than-it-was Anglo-pop would be the main draw for me as regards this particular show, but here’s the breakdown of the bill from Bugbear:
Damn Vandals – four ex-graffiti artists who fell foul of the law and had to re-decorate a youth club apart of their community service: whilst there, they discovered a drum-kit and some guitars. Musically it’s twangsome garage swamp blues rock n roll, Alabama 3 via The Bad Seeds with a Mark Lanegan aspect to the vocals: not what you would expect from a bunch of graffiti artists, but fab all the same. Kloq– rock meets hiphop but way better than most in this genre: a very American rappy vocal that echoes Run DMC and other old school exponents whilst the music is a soulful funky shunky soul rock groove metal with a genuine drrrty vibe..N*E*R*D at their heaviest meets AC/DC via Metallica and some timely squelchy ‘dub step’ bits. Neat. The Bay – a high-octane mix of White Stripes, Band of Skulls and the punkier side of Nirvana. The Many Few – ‘The Many Few are armchair surrealisms, bizarre and wonderful journeys that touch on the absurdities and question marks of small town life, from which you never quite return’…yes indeedy, add a little classic ’80s era Peelite je ne sais qoui referencing awkward squad art pop happenings like Yeah Yeah Noh and Young Marble Giants and plenty of biting wit. Santonica – rousing indie rock with an electro interface, great delivery and actual tunes! Sounds like Editors via The Killers, by way of Bastille.
Magic Brother call up the spirits of the ancient masters of music and brew them into something just a little bit different. Think of a modern day Traffic or prime Jefferson Airplane with a twist. A band influenced by the sixties playing music very much for the future. Manja & The Maytrons are a three-piece beat combo originating from London, Hastings and Dresden, and their latest EP “Unexpected Side Effects” has been spun by Steve Lamacq on BBC 6 Music.
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As usual, I’m ending up with another Daylight Music gig:
Daylight Music 208 – Soviet Sounds & Cold War Cabaret: The Real Tuesday Weld + Polina Proutskova & IZBA Voices + Spaceship Mark (Union Chapel, Compton Terrace, Islington, London, N1 2UN, UK, Saturday 81st November 2015, 12.00pm–2.00pm) – free (£3.50 donation suggested) – information
Say a hearty “Здравствуйте” (“Hello!”) to The Real Tuesday Weld this week whose pioneered style combines old jazz sounds and electronics in something they’ve called “Antique Beat” which has influenced the current movement of electro-swing producers. This Russian-themed Daylight Music event will feature a selection of songs by film composer Mikael Tariverdiev (who’s been described as “the Russian Nina Rota”) in addition to a set of their own cinematic swing sounds. (There’s a little more on the project here.) They will be joined by a supporting selection of Russian and Russian-inspired musicians.
Polina Proutskova has been performing and researching Russian village singing traditions for over 15 years. This year IZBA Voices – a vocal ensemble led by Polina – has been formed of participants and folklore enthusiasts from the IZBA Club (a Russian cultural organization in London) and will be bringing their sounds, spirit and repertoire to Daylight Music.
For a final and inverted Soviet-era touch, the concert’s “in between” sounds will feature work-in-progress by Spaceship Mark (former Minions member Mark S. Williamson, who also works as Microscope Wilson and Crock Oss).
This particular multimedia project, ‘A Hole In The Ground’ features field recordings of sounds taken from the derelict sites of a number of the 1563 Royal Observer Corps bunkers, built as part of the UK’s Cold War nuclear response plans. There’s more information on the project here, and a preview below.
Moscow-based pianist/composer/multi-instrumentalist Dmitry Evgrafov (whose music blends intimate piano parts with delicately evocative string arrangements) was also scheduled to play at the concert, but for reasons outside of his control is no longer able to make it to the UK. Hopefully we will be able to reschedule an appearance for him at Daylight during 2016. Meanwhile, here’s a taster.
In jazz, things move on, and Blowpipe are no exception to this. Father-and-son brass-and-reed players Robin and Andrew Blick joined forces last year, making a mark for themselves last year at the point between hips and heads for their own spin on jazz-meets-clubland, sliding in alongside acid jazz with something a little more sophisticated and challenging.
The enthralling ‘First Circle‘ was the outcome: a rich and rewarding chill-out-and-expand intertwining of busily-bubbling electronica with old-school jazz conversation. Alongside guitarist Paul Reeson and the remarkable electronic sound-weaver Stephen Watkins, the Blicks set up a heartfelt and fertile union of jazz expression and latter-day dance-floor pulse, a tapestry of burbling intelligent techno, deft horn dialogue and fluent electro-acoustic textures. It was a joy to listen to, and its success has been recognised in one direction, at least.
‘Pendulum’ (a hot-on-the-heels follow up to ‘First Circle’) comes after Blowpipe’s deeper welcome into the ongoing club revolution – they’ve played on the new album by drum’n’bass pioneer Grooverider – and a big line-up shake-up. Whether burnt, inquisitive or disillusioned, the Blicks have opted to change the band’s instrumental chemistry. Blowpipe’s armoury of blowables (which already featured the Blicks’ trumpets, saxes, assorted horns and abused pipework) has been expanded by the addition of Nick Reynolds’ harmonica; they’ve also added a steady bass player in Tom Harrison; and there are frequent guest appearances (and stronger links to the jazz world) from saxophonist/flautist John Burgess of the Harry Beckett band and the Tom Bancroft Orchestra. But most crucially, both Reeson and Watkins are now out of the picture (apparently, halfway through recording). Consequently, while half of ‘Pendulum’ is given over to Blowpipe’s previous acoustic/ambient/electronica grace, the other half is shaped by a new and more aggressive club attack.
Of the old school stuff, Airport Woman is the most graceful: a mass of beat-free, blurring big spaces: back-and-forth cello loops, rainy-night muted trumpets, glows of soprano sax and a brief return from Paul Reeson. The Spell is Broken is wrapped in a backwards bassy ostinato (padded up by Tycho Andrews’ wah-guitar) like an orchestra in a North Sea fog, thick hazy air through which Andrew Blick’s trumpet clarion cuts like a lone lighthouse beam. Muting down and vague-ening in the heavy atmosphere, it gently illuminates (above the clanking guitar rhythm and the creak-crunching sonics).
However, this album’s signature is definitely made by the harder breed of Blowpipe pieces, by the post-Grooverider drum’n’bass influences. This could have been a good thing, given that music’s ferociously intelligent, toppy rhythmic attack: the bebop of the club scene. But in practice? Um… maybe not.
The main problem is a loss of that crucial Blowpipe balance. Neither of Stephen Watkins’ on/off successors (Patrick Mosley and Mike Servent) possess any of his subtlety, meaning that the detailed electronic textures of ‘Full Circle’ have been overturned in favour of synth washes and more blatant beats. And while the Blicks remain as eloquent as ever, Nick Reynolds’ harmonica virtuosity is of the tinny, bullying breed: a soulless Mark Feltham cop. Sometimes the new marriage is a happy one, as on Avanti’s drowsy harmonica patina and cloudy brass blankets, mixing it up with breakbeats, Harrison’s Bootsy bass, and Andrew’s cold trumpet motif. But when it’s at its worst, the Blicks seem sidelined within their own project, locked down in the cages of snare drum.
The analogue gut gurgles and video games blippery of Usurper work quite well, as Reynolds’ sharp harmonica riffs mingle with fluent fluttering sax and muted trumpet. But Unravel’s tight fast rattle and saurian bass quakes are overcome by the belting raucous harmonica and brass. Robin Blick’s soprano scribbles too frantically, Andrew’s echoed trumpet sounds busy and sour. The raw power of Scorched Earth’s distorted breakbeat and Harrison Wobble-y bassline can’t make up for the yammering, overbearing harmonica overkill: Reynolds blowing flatulently all over the Blicks’ bitty chips of sax and trumpet and Katherine Blake’s skidding tremolo violin. And School Disco (working title or what?) is just clodhopping: a flatfooted stomp which sounds like it was recorded in an underpass. John Burgess’ guesting flute fights to keep grace going against the dirty swathes of distorted harmonica.
When Reynolds is kept on a tighter leash, things work out much better. On the climactic Phoenix, for example, where Burgess’ bass clarinet and Andrew’s dawning trumpet lines repeatedly criss-cross each other over didgeridoo droning and Robin’s sax hangings. Or on Pendulum itself, which uses power without clumsiness. Rising off a big Bonham-y stomp with overdriven trumpet and giant floppy bass, Robin laces in some ascending saxes and curtains of brass. There’s a guest tenor scrawl from John Burgess: then, amid the whale-song trumpets, an incongruous Scott Walker sample pops up to breathe in bluer air. “The little clocks stop ticking now…” Everything does stop ticking. Everything kicks off again. Marvellously perverse, and a particular highlight on an album which sometimes fails to live up to Blowpipe’s initial promise, reminding us of how good they can be once they’re back in focus.
Blowpipe: ‘Pendulum’
Robot Records, ROB 001 (5019148617297)
CD-only album
Released: 15th May 1998 Get it from:(2020 update) Best obtained second-hand, or streamed. Blowpipe online: Additional notes: Robin Blick now leads Blick Trio; Andrew Blick leads Gyratory System.
The saxophone is the ultimate instrument, offering a unmatched degree of control. Mind you, that was a direct quote from a jazzer who had an unmistakeable sax slung round his neck. So perhaps it wasn’t an objective opinion. Nonetheless, he had a point – drawing most directly on the breath which embodies a person’s voice, the saxophone does have that extra human quality. If you want to score a thoughtful film noir tableau, you’re not gonna use a mandolin, are you?). I digress (and you could, but anyway…)
Robin Blick plays saxophone (as well as dabbling in orchestral horns, trumpets, flugelhorns and even the possibilities of industrial piping). His son Andrew Blick plays trumpet and manipulates sound treatments. Both are jazzers at heart. Both are also the heart of the disarmingly-named Blowpipe, an attempt to marry instrumental jazz to the electronic humanism of club culture dancefloors. Yes, yes, sounds familiar. But this isn’t just a case of glueing jazz horns down to a club beat; neither is it one of producing music to validate your own cappuccino-classiness to.
‘First Circle’ (on which the Blicks are teamed with sequencer whiz Stephen Watkins and guitarist Paul Reeson) is a sort of ‘Kind of Blue’ for the chillout room. This is what acid jazz could’ve been if it had been motivated by jazz rather than a deep desire to appear in liqueur adverts. Warm layers of Watkins’ quilted and deceptively digestible electronica interacting with the Blicks’ horns: bopping and undulating along in fine fashion, free as the air. It’s as if Gil Evans had met the Aphex Twin; if ‘In a Silent Way’ had been remodelled by Goldie; or if Squarepusher had been given an enforced Prozac overdose to turn down the heat on his flashy, glistening jazz fusion leanings.
Certainly it’s unmistakeably jazz-rooted, and not merely the product of jazz listeners. The amnesiac guitar shimmer, skittering boogie bass and toppy forebeat of Conc provide the base for Andrew’s sustained trumpet and Robin’s muted, sleepy soprano sax to weave fine brass threads around each other, and to pay homage along the way to Miles Davis, Louis Armstrong, and Chet Baker. Prop blazes immediately into mariachi-funk action with an irrepressible verve: massed and chortling wah-wah trumpets, Robin’s reproving jazzy alto, and Reeson’s clotted McLaughlin-y solo and stratospheric guitar washes. On Chixalub the guitar and beats chop out a skinny, tight funk (with the occasional drum’n’bass echo trap), while the ranging trumpet is wah-ed and flanged to buggery. Only the sax is untreated here, dropping in late in the day with witty bebop twiddles; and long notes of flute hang in the background like Aztec decoration.
But Blowpipe are more than lite-jazzers squeezing themselves into clubbers’ catsuits. And the first impression of “cool-school jazz for acid housers” is too simplistic. Blowpipe might not be up for pugnacious, aggressively twisted modern jazz along the lines of Charles Mingus or Julius Hemphill, and they do aim at accessible melodies. But they’re still more than ready to explore outside the usual margins, in the tradition of true jazz mavericks.
The title track of ‘First Circle’ follows in the footsteps of Wynton Marsalis, Django Bates and Mark Anthony Turnage: a fascinating collision between modern jazz and contemporary classical. Beneath the randomly precise interjections of guitar and sax, and the corkscrewing Philip Glass runs of trumpets, trapped snippets of rock bass drum pin down the restless rhythm. Shredding violins teeter up the scale on high-wire atonality, wobbling higher, higher… and lurching out. On Toba, a modal tenor explores over electronic metallophone, Reeson’s tart Fripp-coloured sustained guitar swells, and a cymbals and high toms beat. Suddenly, there’s a crunch of hurricane-blast guitar noise before it all drops away into echoing, perturbed ambience: dead strings, echoing growls of trumpet, a few sparks of brass in the darkness.
It’s also sure that Blowpipe have an ear pressed against the connecting wall, listening to the electronic dabblings of that obsessive-looking teenager in the next flat. Why else the twinkly, computer noise/soft industry dub opening Trench, before the beautiful trumpet lines, minimalist string arpeggios and birdsong sax drift in like a warm front? On a moodier tip, the ascending brass duets of Kucou are wrapped in the same sort of ambience David Sylvian used in order to coax Kenny Wheeler, Percy Jones or David Torn into the arms of his misty balladry: a thoughtful snare beat, forest textures, Durutti Column guitar points and a minimal, thrumphing, clay-spattered bass sound. Even with the last minutes hijacked by quacking-duck cartoon trumpet, ambient sophisti-pop still leaves its mark.
Unkindness takes things the furthest, into more hostile atmosphere. A broody frown of menacing sound for openers, with sparse, warping antique sequencers and distant electronic booms. Arid knuckle-tapping hand drums, trumpet decorations fluttering down like flaking gold plaster, quiet robotic emissions from the tenor sax all hanging inside a vast bleak whoosh of ambience. It’s like being an ant trapped inside an enormous high altitude jet engine at cruising power, miles and miles above the earth: everything around you is far too big for you to comprehend, or to destroy you, but it can and does cause a profound sense of dislocation and discomfort. True, the jazz does win through when the ambience drops out to make way for trumpet, sax and conga, but it’s not long before things are back to the Moog-warping sounds of the intro. This is what you’d get if Labradford or Biosphere took up a residency at Birdland.
When they’re stretching themselves, or letting their sense of history shake hands with their zest for technology, Blowpipe are grasping at music far beyond simple genre; inhaling air and transmuting it via both electronics and manual valves into something new. You could call it all post-rock-jazz if that wasn’t such a stupid name. “Encryption fusion” might be a better way of putting it. ‘First Circle’ is certainly one to put up on the phuture-jazz shelf with Guru’s ‘Jazzmatazz’, Courtney Pine’s work with DJ Pogo, and Us3’s ‘Hand On the Torch’. This is breath-driven futurism: at their best, Blowpipe aim and – puff – hit the mark.
Blowpipe: ‘First Circle’
Needlework Records, STITCH6CD/LP (5 034061 000629)
CD/vinyl album
Released: 26th May 1997 Get it from:(2020 update) Best obtained second-hand or streamed. Blowpipe online: Additional notes: Robin Blick now leads Blick Trio; Andrew Blick leads Gyratory System.
Swoon. /swo͞on/ A verb. To be emotionally affected by someone or something that one admires; become ecstatic. Here are some people and things that make me swoon. #swoon #swoonage
On the 12th, left-field synthpop writer Carla Dal Forno comes to Electrowerks trailing her newest album ‘Look Sharp’, in which “the small-town dreams and inertia that preoccupied (her) first album have dissolved into the chaotic city, its shifting identities, far-flung surroundings and blank faces”, thanks to her wanderings from her Melbourne origins to London via Berlin, telling “the story of this life in flux, longing for intimacy, falling short and embracing the unfamiliar.” 
Misfit City 