Now here's something I didn't know before this gig. The manics are musical marmite for a lot of people. They seem to elicit some rather passionate and surprising responses, ranging from the sort of comment that goes along the lines of "Can't believe you're going, you lucky so and so" to odd ones such as "What? You like them? I never do understand what anybody sees in them".

It seemed to me that the huge queue of people ouside the venue before the doors opened was in answer those naysayers. There was no support band. The setlist was in two halves. The first was their latest album (Journal for Plague Lovers) played in full. And the second was a bit of a trawl through the hits. It's not often that you get such generosity from any band, and this really was a special night. I've not bought Journal yet, and the first thing I love about it is the album art which is displayed above the band. I had a discussion about this with my mate. She wasn't so impressed, but I had to disagree. Jenny Saville's work is quite exceptional.

The reception in the first half to Journal for Plague lovers was understandably less voluble than that for the second half. But this was no filler material. The lyrics are all by Richey Edwards and the band finally felt that they needed to be heard. Richey himself was represented by a pink feather boa around Nicky Wire's neck throughout the evening. Speaking of Wire, he was not his usual self as he was suffering from a prolapsed disc but it's a measure of the band and their relationship with their fans that they chose to perform this, and the other two roundhouse gigs. At times, touching, at others, displaying the manic's ear for grand musical gesture, the new material delivers once more. The final song in the first half was sang by Nicky (as he does on the album).

In truth, the performance could have ended there and we'd have all gone home very happy. We went outside to have a drink and a breather on the balcony which is superb on a summer's evening. We actually enjoyed it so much, we inadvertantly missed the opening number of the second half, Motorcycle Emptiness, which was a pity. But this would have set the tone for the rest of the second half, which was a reminder to us all why we love this band so much. We love them for so many reasons - for some it's the politics and the sheer passion of every word. I have to say I'm not one of them. I shamelessly danced and jumped and sang to "You love us", because I do just love them. I know I know. I missed the point of the song. But for me (and several hundred other people) this was a celebration of their music. And what a huge list to choose from: Tsunami, La Tristesse Durera, If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next, Australia and You Stole The Sun From My Heart. I couldn't have wished for anything better.

Looking back at the set list for the evening, I really cannot believe they played so many songs. They finished with Design for Life, and as the lights went up and the crowd started to move out, I actually felt disappointed. Time had flown by and I wanted more. I don't think they had any more to give.

Oh and one more thing. Membership cards needed to get into the Lock Tavern afterwards? What is the world coming to?

"Hey, mate? Want to come to a gig? It's this really fantastic band I saw on the weekend. They were awesome. You should check them out"

"Sure thing buddy. I'll always go listen to a band you like. See you there."

Two things: My mate really does say things like "Sure thing buddy". But what he said after that had me in a bit of a panic. What if they really aren't as good as that? By this time, I'd written up the reviews from the first day of Foxfest, so I re-read the bit I'd written about this band, and it certainly looked good on paper. And I remembered they'd had some good tunes and a fantastic performer in the shape of Seymour, so all in all I thought I was worrying about nothing. And the gig was in another small venue, so it was bound to be OK.

So - a few hours later I walked through the doors of a surprisingly empty Dublin Castle. Having said that, I'm not sure how busy it usually gets on a Tuesday night. Somehow I'd assumed it was always full. It had actually been my local for a while as I lived right next door and in all my time living in there I'd never been in - but I always remember it being pretty busy as I walked by. But it's not my favourite venue, much less my favourite pub. I think I'd only seen one or two bands there in the past, and they weren't memorable. I think the last time I saw anyone there was at the Camden Crawl a couple of years back, but I can't remember who I saw.

I'd arrived about twenty minutes before my mate, and I saw Seymour arrive with his Dad, who'd come to see the gig tonight. He looked pretty laid back as he chatted in the bar, but what was I expecting? Him to be as manic as he was at Foxfest all the time? Still, it would have been nice to have a quick chat, but he was meeting his friends, so I didn't want to interrupt.

My mate arrived, and after catching up we went inside. We paid £5 each which is fair enough, but it doesn't half remind me what a bargain last weekend was. We stood at the back and waited for the band to get started. Well, when I say the back, there isn't much of a back to speak off at the Dublin. It's pretty tight, and there wasn't really a lot of people there to see them. So really there was a line of people standing half way back from the stage, then me, my mate and a couple of others leaning on the desk at the back. They started and something didn't feel right straight away. It was the sound. It wasn't good. Very dull and flat. Now, this wasn't the sort of band that needs that kind of treatment. My mate wasn't impressed. Can't say I was either. And it carried on - and I wasn't really getting into it at all.

I've got to admit that I was tired on the night. But I think they were too. Where they seemed spontaneous and explosive on Saturday, they seemed a little slow and ponderous tonight. But I have to say that this could easily have been more about my own state of mind. But it wasn't just me either. My mate wasn't moved as I jumped up and down to "The Air is on Fire". In fact he didn't move for the whole set.

It turns out that the band has been playing together for some time (they were all members of Miss Black America), but we both didn't know this at the time. As we left, his conclusion was "They've got some more work to do yet.". I think on the second time out for me I'd be inclined to agree.

http://www.myspace.com/tencitynation

It was the hottest day of the year so far. Well, it certainly felt like it as I crossed into the wilds of south east London for the second time in a weekend. The sun was out, the pretty girls were out and I was heading back to the pub. I'd felt strangely drawn to return, and, unusually for me, it wasn't for the beer. No, I'd returned to the fox for another day of fun and new music at Foxfest 2009. I hadn't intended coming to both days, but I'd had such a good time the previous day that I'd already decided I was coming back even before I'd left the night before.

I arrived earlier than I had the previous day, as I didn't want to miss as much as I had the previous day, but, even though the start had been delayed by about an hour, I still managed to miss Jamie Commons. But I did manage to catch most of Dune Lake's set. As before, I'm writing this from a combination of the notes I made and listening to the various myspace pages. I simply wrote "Amazing voice, versatile band" for Dune Lake. And now as I listen to their music on their myspace page, I am reminded of their set. They play a suprisingly wide range of styles - some bluesy, some rock and roll and others such as the ethereal "Twilight", are so utterly gorgeous, you stand and listen hoping that they will stay on the stage for just that bit longer. Again, for a second time, I had the good fortune to arrive to a fantastic set. Perfect. The crowd thought so too.

Next up on the acoustic stage was Kate Weston, who delighted us all with a wonderful performance of classical guitar playing. I'll have to admit that my knowledge of styles of guitar playing is limited, so I really can't describe it too well, but for those of us who listened, it was an absolute pleasure. Despite some obvious nerves, she played beautifully, and thankfully, Johnny quietened the back of the room down while she played, as the noise was starting to overwhelm her music. That would have been a real shame, as this was a first for me; to hear such delicately crafted music performed so well in a pub was a real treat. Another great performance.

One of the reasons I enjoyed the previous day so much was the range of different musical styles, and already I'd heard a few, so it was no real surprise that the dynamic changed once more for the next act on the other stage, the wonderfully poptastic Yokoko. I'd had a conversation earlier where I expressed my disdain for pop acts. But I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed this band. It must have been about four o'clock when they came on stage, if not earlier. I'm not used to dancing in pubs at this time, but I found myself dancing about to Yokoko's music as if it were compulsary. As I bopped up and down, I was reminded of St. Etienne's finer moments. It's a rare skill writing and performing this kind of music and they have it in spades. As they finished their last number, it was impossible to notice the grins on everyone's faces. Brilliant brilliant fun.

So, back to the other end of the pub for the next set by Vienna. I enjoyed this a lot. Each song she played, every word she sang, I found myself brought closer to the edge of my seat. She has an amazing tautness in her voice, that really conveys every emotion in her songs to a point that somehow you begin to feel her music rather than just listen to it. For the second half of her set she was joined by her sister, Lydia, on the cello. And what a masterstroke that was. All that was brilliant before was simply made better. I caught up with her later, and told her how much I enjoyed her music. After thanking me, she seemed much more interested in how I thought her sister did. She was so proud of her, and rightly so, and incredibly modest about her own performance. A truly memorable moment from two incredibly talented sisters.

Clay Pigeon were up next. And another storming performance. They play a fairly unique style. Unique for today at least, as they bring together some interesting styles, ska, hip hop, punk and reggae, which at times reminded me of the Red Wedge era, which is no bad thing. But what a way they played it. With passion, excitement and above all plenty of noise, this was like listening to Mike Patten duetting with Billy Bragg. On acid. No, really. Have a listen for yourself.

Next up on the acoustic stage was Dexy. On a weekend of superlatives, I feel almost guilty so say that this was probably my least favourite performance of the day. That's not to say there was no merit to his performance, but for some reason or another, it didn't hold me as much as I'd hoped. It probably didn't help that he was sandwiched between two great bands - the aforementioned Clay Pigeon and the rather excellent Witches. I loved them so much I bought the t-shirt. And I never buy band t-shirts. I think they saw me coming. I'd just seen them on stage. I staggered out into the garden, looking for their CD. Breathless and excited I pointed to it proffering a sweaty tenner. "You get a t-shirt with the album for an extra couple of quid", I was told. Bargain.

I wore that t-shirt the next day at work. I wore that t-shirt as I listened to their album while I worked. At times, a little like Arcade Fire, but at times nothing like them, they have an imperious presence on stage that simply blew me away. I will definitely catch them again. They'd better have a different t-shirt on sale by then.

Now, I don't like saxaphones as a rule. So my heart sank a bit as the next act was introduced on the acoustic stage. Adam and the Jazz Daddy. Nice. I'd seen Adam the previous night playing drums with Breton. He'd been rather excellent then, but it was today's performance that showed off his brilliance on the drums. But this wasn't just about the drums. This was about some spectacularly smart jazz. I have no idea what the Jazz Daddy's real name is, and it really doesn't matter. His sax playing spoke for itself and I ate my own words about saxophonists. This was sensational stuff. A whole new experience for me, as I don't usually go in for jazz. Unbelievable. This festival gets better and better...

Which brings me to the next act. A beat box. We were told in his introduction that he would be competing in the world beatbox championship. I wasn't impressed. And that he'd be at glastonbury. I wasn't impressed by this news either. If Jazz isn't my thing, I can tell you that I don't do beatbox dudes. So, unusually for me, I couldn't be bothered getting up and walking to the stage as Reeps One started. I'm not even going to bother trying to describe the performance. But this was awesome. Unbelievably awesome. The crowd went nuts. And rightly so. Utterly brilliant.

I sadly missed the next act, The New Happiness as I, along with a number of other foxfesters did that day, went out in search of dirty chicken dinners. We shall speak no more of this as it was indeed dirty. With questionable chicken content. I missed quite a bit of Stuart O'Connor's too sadly. But what I heard I really enjoyed. There was an amazing variety in the songs, and it was great to see the double bass on stage. And then at the end he was joined by the Jazz Daddy. I was a bit of a new fan of him now, so this rounded of the set nicely. I wish I'd caught the whole set.

The day before I'd seen Matt Daley do some pretty cool things with the loop pedal. The Android Angel did things with loops I'd never heard before. The Android Angel is Paul Colto. He's only been doing this for about 6 months, according to his website, which is pretty amazing. A very unique performance, he brings a tremendous sense of fun to the stage that is really engaging. His final number ended with some crowd participation. He went around the audience handing out various pieces of percussion. I was desparately disappointed I didn't get anything to play myself! A really run ending to a great set.

Next up were a band called the Scaredy Cats a Ska Funk band. They weren't bad, and those in the crowd certainly had a good time dancing to their tunes. One of the guys in the band was wearing an England football shirt. This got me to thinking; what is it about Ska that really hits the right notes with the English? Not sure I had the answer to that one. Perhaps someone can enlighten me some day...

It hadn't been long since we'd been collectively blown away by Reeps One, so there was an audible murmur of anticipation from the crowd as he returned to the stage with Squab. Formed from two members of Clay Pigeon, this is a new project. Two guitarists and a beatbox. It's not something you often see or hear. And it's not something I would have raced along to see had it been described to me in that way. But this was really good. By this time, I think it's fair to say that Reeps One had established himself as a firm crowd favourite. And rightly so. I will definitely be trying to find him at Glastonbury. Foxfest had delivered again. This really was an embarassment of musical richness. And all for 6 quid!!

Johnny gave a great introduction to the next act Up-C Down-C. He told us that when he'd seen them for the first time, they had blown him clean out of his converse (at least he kept to the musical theme for an introduction, as I recall Clare seeming to be a fan of someone's sexy arse earlier in the day). This sounded interesting, so I moved up towards the front of the stage. I think I had a pretty good idea what was coming next as I looked at the vast array of effects pedals, and the Orange amp. I looked around and realised everyone else wasn't quite so close as I was. Maybe they knew something I didn't. As the band kicked off, it was patently obvious that they did indeed know something I didn't. This was loud. Very very loud. But awesomely good. They're a four piece instrumental rock band from Gillingham, in the mould of Mogwai, who I've seen before but I didn't have the opportunity to get as close to them as I was to Up-C Down-C. I'm not sure if this was an entirely good idea however, as I don't think my ears actually recovered until Tuesday. I nearly fell over laughing when a chap stuck his head right in front of one of the amps trying to take a photo. He spun away reeling in pain. But this wasn't a painful performance. They've written some amazingly powerful and moving songs. I loved every second. And the two quid for the CD was a bargain.

We were coming up to the finale of the night, but first up was Heath over on the acoustic stage. Like Their Hearts Were Full of Spring last night, this was a performance that was fun, endearing, and so so good. He's a real crowd favourite here and you can see why. Fantastic stage presence with a great sense of humour, he brought the crowd to fever pitch. I double took when I saw the crowd surfing. Yes, crowd surfing. In the fox. Totally unbelievable. As was the cover of Bohemian Rhapsody. He's a bit of a foxfest regular so I'm lead to believe. And that's understandable, I can't wait to see him again next year myself! This really should have been the final act of the night, as it ended with all the laughter and smiles that made this weekend so endearing. But there was one more band to come.

King of Conspiracy gave the final performance of the night. But somehow, it just didn't feel right after Heath. Don't get me wrong, I love a loud tight band, and this was a great performance for sure. But I couldn't help feeling that Heath should have ended it, not them. I looked around me, and I think a number of other people felt the same. There were less people, and we were all a little muted. That was a bit of a pity, as I think I'd still like to give them another listen.

So there it was. My first foxfest. All over until next year. You will not believe how much I have bored people telling them how good the whole event was. But it really was that good. Believe me. Go next year if you can. You will not regret it for a moment.

I've got a feeling that in the time of writing this and the next articles I will have become myspace friends and/or fans of a few more people. It will be useful to do at the very least as I think I'm going to struggle to remember who was on. Luckily, with the help of the flyer from the festival, the notes I made and the rather helpful live blog that Dan made at the time, I think I'll piece it all together.

First a big apology to the acts I missed at the start of the fest. They are in no particular order Heath, Let Our Enemies Beware, Grim Hilde, Shaun Grimsley, Wonk Unit, Monkish, Glass and 23 Frames . Bugger. Now I write them all down like this, I realise I missed quite a lot. Must try harder next year...

Well, I would have arrived earlier if:

a) I'd not been up late with some friends who'd crashed over at mine
b) I'd have got my act together earlier, and not lay around in bed vainly trying to catch up from the night before, but most irritatingly,
c) The fact that I'd circled the immediate vicinity of the venue a number of times looking for a parking spot.

Actually I think I may have heard a little of Glass and then later 23 Frames as I waited at the traffic lights. But Jane didn't help the performance telling me I had reached my destination over and over again. God she can be so irritating. Only this time instead of it being perfectly obvious that I had reached my destination by looking out the window, I could also hear it. But to no avail. No parking to be had. Not anywhere near though. So round and round I went as the clock ticked by. And Jane kept talking...

But I was lucky. Very lucky as it turned out as I walked in as Miss Jo Williams was performing on the acoustic stage. What a start to my fest. The crowd was hushed and attentive listening to what was for me an exceptional start to an exceptional event. Her voice has a beguiling quality, tremendously expressive and beautiful, backed by some simple well executed guitar playing. I walked over to the bar, bought a drink and was captivated. I knew that this was going to be a brilliant evening. Thanks Jo.

It's at this point I then got the idea of how the venue worked. Two stages at either end of the pub. One is the acoustic stage and the other is er... the not acoustic stage. So up on this other stage was Hindley. I confess I didn't see much of them as I remained at the other side of the pub chatting. But they sounded pretty decent from where I was sat. What made this possible for me was discovering that there was a big screen to see the band if you couldn't be bothered walking all of 10 yards forward to see the bands. So lazy...

Back at the acoustic stage, was Robert Rorison. I didn't need to move to see him, which was good, but I quickly discovered that this wasn't a venue to be lazy in. You might think that you'd found the best place to settle down to listen to a set, but no sooner had you found it then someone stood in the way. So, up on my feet to catch his act, which I enjoyed. Some great songs of his own with some quality covers thrown in for good measure.

Next up were David Goo and the Variety Band. Now this is interesting. I know I enjoyed this. A lot. But my notes read something along of "Goo: A lot of fun". Hmmm. Well I know they were a lot of fun. I had my first dance of the day to them. I loved them - it was certainly not what I expected. It's one of those ones I think that's best left by saying go see them for yourself. It says on their website they'll be at Glastonbury. I'll try and catch them there for sure. I'm sure they'll be even better with a few ciders down the hatch...

Back to the acoustic stage for Clare Portman. I said in a previous post that I couldn't wait to see her perform. So, it was with much anticipation that I stood and listened to a really quite breathtaking set. I've listened to her album Little Red quite a lot recently, so it was nice to hear some new material (new to me at least - she's very popular in these parts). I loved her two new songs, one of which she wrote for her best friend, which was really touching as she stood there and listened. Her cover of "I drove all night" was also quite superb. But it was all over too quickly. Even when she found that she had time for a quick encore by popular request. Was it worth the wait? You bet. Can't wait to see her again.

Next up were the unfortunate Ocarina. Unfortunate? Well, only in my mind I guess. But I think they were going to struggle to compete with the previous act. But that's not fair on them at all. They were in actual fact one of the most orginal, innovative bands I'd seen over the two days. How to describe them? Their myspace page describes their music as Trip Hop / Breakbeat / Psychedelic. What they don't say is that they do it with some rather delightful strings. I have to be entirely honest here, I didn't actually get it that much at the time, but now I'm listening to their music as I write this, I want to try them again. Follow the link and give them a listen.

Back to the acoustic stage. So, you'll get the picture now, it's quite metronomic. Almost hypnotic. Back and forth. One stage to the other. But it all works. All festivals should do this. No hanging about. Just turn around and watch the next act. Let me tell you, the crew at the fox are truly awesome. Good work guys. So, Matt Daley begins playing. And what a set this is. Brilliant and enjoyable use of the loop pedal. Nice soothing reggae. Lovely.

The thing I really enjoyed about this fest was the breadth of talent that was on show. And I loved the way the lineup was put toether so that you never became too comfortable listening to one style of music. Just as the nice warm feeling that Matt gave us was really beginning to take hold, Bleech kicked in. A really exciting three piece that are beginning to get some real attention they are Jennifer on Guitar and vocals, Matt on drums and Katherine on Bass. The thing that struck me most was that they were as visually appealing as their music was enthralling. Jennifer's tangled hair masking her face as she powered through the songs with a real old school rock attitude, whilst Katherine the bleached blonde barefoot bassist marched up and down. Matt not wanting to be forgotten provided the entertainment between the songs. The stand out song for me was "Is it true that boys don't cry", a real indie box of delights. Go see them if you get the chance.

Guess what happened next? We turned around, back to the acoustic stage for Russell Joslin. The set didn't get off to a good start for Russell as he broke a string. It took a little while to sort out, but it wasn't a problem. These things happen. It was however, a difficult performance to listen to. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it was me, but he seemed a bit uncomfortable on the stage. I'm listening to his music now on his myspace page and I have to say I'm enjoying it. So it's not the song writing that I didn't like (give them a listen, they're good). I don't know. Maybe it's the flip side of the different music styles that were on display - maybe after Bleech I couldn't quite get into Russell's particular groove. But I think, judging by the reception of the now large crowd in the fox, I was in a very small minority.

The next band Ten City Nation were special. Really special. A brilliant noisy, spectacular 3 piece. Tremendously energetic, with some great tunes they really took the roof off. And what a perfect venue to see them, as Seymour, their guitarist went nuts. Quality. As I watched them, I was drawn into wondering how he'd met Mike the bassist. As two opposite looking people as you could see in a band. Seymour, the lithe geeky looking guitarist with the wedge and the glasses, jumping up and down, falling around, struggling to stay on the stage, standing next to Mike, the tall much more robust bassist. Both feet planted firmly on the ground at all times. All held together by some top drumming by Neil. Superb. Not sure why I didn't buy their album for a quid. No bother I downloaded it from their website. Although it's not a patch on the way they play live. I might even go see them again tomorrow.

So, once more back to the acoustic stage. But this next band wasn't acoustic. Oh no. Breton were no such thing. Well, discounting the drummer. Which I guess was acoustic. Kind of. But the other two were knob twiddling. No other words for it, but unlike Justice they play their stuff very very live. I am told that this was very much experimental for them, as I was lead to believe that they really do play guitars and stuff, but by jove this was good. I've seen Holy Fuck a couple of times, and they're pretty damned good at this kind of stuff, but they've been doing it for years. So if this really was an off the cuff performance from these boys then this really was sensational. Somehow they even kept it together when the drum kit appeared to fall apart in the middle of the set. Fantastic beats, searing bass, and skillfull tight drumming made this the stand out performance of the night for me. Totally unexpected, and the crowd went absolutely nuts for it.

It was coming up to the end of a long day, and I think a lot of people were beginning to feel the pace, so it was perfect timing to have Breton do their thing. Because I think this was the band that people here were waiting for. They're called Their Hearts Were Full of Spring and are quite clearly a crowd favourite here. And rightly so. A tremendously delicious band to look at, they really deserved their top billing tonight. With fantastic songs played with real passion and perhaps more importantly, with a great sense of fun, the band ended the night on the greatest of highs. So many smiles, with love and laughter passing between the band and the crowd, this was something to see. Something you might only see at something like foxfest. What a way to end the night.

Think of the best festival experience you've ever had. What made it special? Was it the people you were with? The music? Or was it just that you were in the right place at the right time?

Now think of the best party you've ever been to. What made that special? What made you stay? Did you fall about laughing after having drunk too much? Or was it just that you had such the best time with all the people you know and love, that you truly couldn't think of a better place to be?

Now imagine a pub in South East London. Think of somewhere that's not so glamorous, what some people might describe as off the beaten track. Walk past a friendly security man at the front. It's dark. It's full of people. As your eyes become accustomed to the light, you can see at the back of the room a stage. Someone's singing. But you can't see anyone on the stage at the far end. She's got a stunning voice. So beautiful. Slowly you turn around to the other stage. You're not expecting that, but there sat on a stool is the source of the music. Captivated, you slowly turn around. There's a tap on your shoulder, a big hello and a huge hug from a friend. The music stops. Applause. Genuine affection for the artist from the audience. At the back of the room, there's a man on the microphone on the other stage. He's calling you over to listen to the next act. Another band begins to play...

You've arrived at Foxfest. The best festival you've ever been to. A weekend party like no other. It's all of these things. Yet something much more. It's a work of unadulterated love brought to you by an unbelievably talented and passionate group of musicians, artists and friends. Never in my life have I felt so privileged to have seen and heard so much talent in a single weekend. Never have I been to a festival where the artists are the audience; where time and again these artists are greeted with such enthusiasm that it genuinely took my breath away.

Stay a little longer and you'll discover why. This really is one big family party you've come to. Look around and you'll soon discover that everyone seems to know each other. The crew on the sound desk, the hosts, the photographers, the videographers, the bands, the bar staff, the bloggers, technicians and security.

This whole thing is an labour of love; love for music, love for friends and a love for building a true artistic community, of which I was unaware of until but a few weeks ago. It's based around the Fox and Firkin (or just plain "The Fox" to it's friends), together with an internet radio station Kooba Radio, (and the recently launched Kooba TV). In some way or another, seemingly everyone I spoke to had a connection with one or the other and almost always both.

And not a single big ego to be seen, which is remarkable as there's some big talent on show throughout the weekend. And not just on the stages. This was an immensely well organised event. Nearly 40 acts on two stages over two days is not easy to organise. And it went off perfectly. For that alone, I stand in admiration of Carl, who brought it all together.

And then there's the music. If I were to say that this was an unsigned band festival, then it would not quite convey the sheer breadth of music that was performed. This wasn't a homogeneous indie line up, with identikit indie bands wearing matching skinny jeans performing the same tunes one after the other. Far from it.

We had punk bands, signer songwriters, electronica, beatbox, ska, pop, reggae, rock, jazz, folk, classical and indie. We had guitars, we had trumpets, we had cellos, basses and violins. There were horns and saxes. There were drums, xylophones, tambourines, maraccas. Cowbells and triangles. Soft words and screams. Sweet harmonies and harsh discordant cries from the heart.

I can honestly say that there was not one bad performance out of the probably 30 or so that I saw (I sadly missed a few). Think about that for a moment. Every band, every artist was memorable and I hope to write some more about them all in later articles.

We'll all go to other festivals, other gigs. We'll see great bands. We'll see some amazing sights. We'll have great times with our friends. But none of them, not one, will ever be quite as good as this.

My thanks to all at the Fox and all involved with Kooba Radio and TV for letting me into your wonderful community. It was a truly jaw dropping experience from beginning to end.

Please can I come again next year?

Full band reviews for Saturday can be found here and Sunday's bands are reviewed here.

Odd one this. I've never reviewed 2 gigs at the same time. I'm not sure it's ever been attempted before. Maybe this is a world first. I do hope so as it's always good to be the first to do something.

Anyway. Its probably pertinent to answer the question as to why I'm reviewing both gigs at the same time. There are many reasons, but I guess the one that needs to be addressed first is the one that sticks in my craw the most. On the way home from the koko gig I was mugged. Nothing violent. No harm done. But it still sucked. I'd had a great time at the gig, and I was planning to write it up on the way back. But then calling the police kind of got in the way. And somehow I never got to write the review. And not a single one since. I'm not using it as an excuse. How can I? But from that point on, I never kept this blog up to date. An excuse? Who knows.

But I rememeber that night just under a year ago. I was never lucky enough to see Husker Du. I was stupid enough to miss Sugar at the Manchester Academy all those years ago. But how I love Bob Mould's music. One of the true greats of music, despite pushing 50; a legend, an innovator and an inspiration to the following generation of musicians and artists to follow. If you don't believe me just google his name.

This year (2009), he celebrates the 20th anniverary of his debut solo album "Workbook". Tempted as I am to review this album and many others, i'll leave it at this; he has a whole lifetime of songs to choose from when he performs. He's a true talent as a performing artist, but more importantly as a singer songwriter.

But for me, a fan who owns as many of his recordings as I can get hold of, and a veteran of a few of his gigs, a dichotomy emerges. Hearing the man play with a small focussed well rehearsed band is an experience for which I have yet to find a match. Songs crash into one another like a relentless east coast storm. No break between the songs. Every one as taut and strained as the last. A masterpiece of simple, plaintive songwriting. But all of them, without exception driven by the quick syncopated fusion of bass and drums, topped off with a sweat soaked wall of sound from quick driven guitars that came to define the sound of post punk rock in the 90s.

And in hearing it performed by Mould and his band is something to hear. Loud. Tight. Relentless. I honestly can't compare something to Bob Mould when he's on the edge with a well rehearsed band. And at Koko, he went back to some of the material he'd previously refused to play. The set took us through the Husker Du years, through Workbook, Black Sheets of Rain, the Sugar Years, and ending with his then most recent album District Line. Of the Husker Du material, "I apologize" was the stand out song of a truly stunning encore. There was no coming back from this performance for me. It was the end of it all, the retirement speech. End of the line. No more.

But he wasn't done. Then there was the album "Life and Times". The album and supporting tour was announced on his blog with the lines "Yes. There's a new album. Yes, there's going to be a tour. Yes, there will be a band". I bought the tickets the day they were released.

I'd emailed a friend earlier in the day hoping that he was coming with a band. I knew there wasn't a band deep down. I'd seen him a couple of times before without one. They weren't good. And so I walked throught the doors a little late, a little drunk and very optimistic that I'd be wrong. I heard the voice. I heard the guitar.

Good.

And then I listened for the bass. The drums, and the tightness, the togetherness, and most importantly,the songs I love.

I heard Bob. I heard the guitar. I walked in, disappointed. I wasn't the only one. Bob and guitar. The guitar and Bob. Only the songs needed more.

Am I being unfair? Would I be upset if I turned up to a football match expecting to see something special and only finding a team of 3? Would I turn up to the symphony only to find the brass, the percussion and the woodwind weren't there and be happy?

I don't think so. That wouldn't detract from the efforts of the individuals involved. Far from it; they would try that much harder I think as Mould did tonight. But the end result was a fraud. A diminished experience. The fans knew that. I knew that. And Mould knew it. It turned into one of those embarrassing middle aged gigs where the die hard fans heaped praise on their hero and he returned the love. But with not a single special memory to take home.

I'd dreamed for years to hear him play "Celebrated Summer". I can't fault the way he performed it. But can one man aged nearly 50 with his guitar truly do justice to this? Truth be told. It felt wrong.

We all get old. Bob Mould is no exception. He's moved on. He loves electronica. He's a respected DJ on the East Coast Gay club scene. It's where his heart lies. He can make album after album of genuine post punk mid-life rock. He can perform it. And perform it well.

But you get the impression he doesn't want to much these days. He really wasn't interested. I wasn't either. Not tonight.

Its been some time since I bought some music. I've been thinking about this recently. I had the slightly scary thought that this may have been something to do with not having as much time for music as I used to. Well, all things are possible as I appear to have less time for this blog. Which is a bit of a shame (for me at the least).

So, the music buying hiatus has come to an end. Kind of. I got this album for free. And before the PRS comes running after me, I was lucky enough to be given it by Clare herself after having listened to some of her music on myspace.

Clare lists her influences as Jewel, Sarah McLachlan, Tori Amos, Sheryl Crow, Jeff Buckley, Counting Crows and Turin Brakes. I'll be honest here (and I hope she never reads this) but this didn't exactly fill me with a great deal of enthusiasm as I waited for her first song to start playing. I actually have no idea who Jewel is at all, but I know I'm not such a big fan of the others.

Don't get me wrong. I like a singer songwriter as much as the next music fan. But Sheryl Crow isn't on my playlist. Never will be. No sirree.

Until now that is. For if that's the music that influences this rather unassuming but truly endearing collection of songs then I'll give it another go. Promise. (Even if she was engaged to Lance Armstrong, but we'll save that for another time).

"There are many shades of me", she sings in the opening track. It would be easy to label this album as just another story of love, loss and regret. But to do so would be to do the music and the song writing a great disservice. Clare's brilliance is to let us into her life with such a brutal honesty but tell us her story with a delightful delicacy in her musicianship and songwriting.

This is an album of great simplicity. Songs and emotions stripped to the bone. But that's not to say the music isn't challenging. From the vocal adventure of "All yours now" to the haunting strings in "Mum's Song", she displays a gift for composition that merits a wider audience.

But at the core is her talent as both a guitarist and a singer. Her voice at times brings a quite unexpected soulful flavour to her songs which adds an unusual texture to her guitar playing. And the light touch production of this album let them both speak for themselves. For me the stand out song, "Never Been" exemplifies everything that she does well. A song that despite repeated listening remains for me an enigma; neither mournful or hopeful. It it is quite simply, in her own words, another shade of her.

There are indeed many shades to Clare, "some you haven't seen yet", she continues in the opening song. I do get the impression that there is much more that we have yet to hear. Each song gives us a chance to see just a little bit more. And just for good measure she rounds it all off with "Standing before you", a song of such powerful raw emotion and vulnerability it just makes you play the whole album again.

So, I was lucky enough to tell her how much I liked her music tonight. She seemed a bit puzzled and she said "but you haven't seen me play yet". True. And on the strength of this album I can't wait.

http://www.myspace.com/clareportman

Bromley-by-Bow station is an odd place to find yourself at a quarter to twelve half scared out of your wits but at the same time glad to be there, and even more so glad of the company of fellow gig goers who turn up five minutes later on the once deserted platform.

"Well that was shit", said the guy who turned up. Despite my best attempts at looking like I'd not been to the Radiohead gig and got a bit lost on the way home, just like him and his friends, he'd clocked me. A fellow indie "kid" at the wrong end of town. I have to say I was a bit disappointed that he'd figured out I wasn't a local. But I gave myself a quick once over and it was a bit obvious to be honest. Khaki isn't exactly a street look around these parts.

"I quite liked it", I gamely replied. I didn't want to admit I was glad of the company. Someone like me. Fuck. Life's changed. Tonight of all nights. What a time to realise. Even as I'm listening to "Reckoner" as I write this, it's obvious that I'm a stranger in a strange town. It's not going to change, not now.

"They didn't play any hits", came the reply from my new found companion. OK, it wasn't an MTV tribute that's for sure. I didn't even know the last song they played if I'm being honest. But they did play "Reckoner", which was fantastic. I love the song, the way it grabs me and soothes me and scares me all at once. It's a song that seems to speak to me in a way that I can't describe, but I know for sure I'm not the only one who feels the textures, the longing, the feeling of something missed. I looked around me. I recognised the look in their eyes as I looked at the crowd around me.

"That's why you love them". I'm not sure if that was profound or just me being an arse. But I followed it up with an impressive sounding insight: "I bet you've seen them before. I bet you were surprised then. Perhaps they played all the hits. Perhaps they didn't. But what surprised you most was that they played it by their own rules". I paused. Just to take in my own magnificence. But then I remembered where I was. Just a drunk white bloke on a tube sounding like a twat. Just to be sure I looked around the tube. No one was listening or at least they were polite enough to pretend that they weren't.

"My little lad wanted to come", said the guy who I had just worked out looked a bit like Justin Lee Collins off of the Friday Night Project. Only he had shorter hair and was a bit more pissed on a tube than any media savvy celebrity would ever be.

"How old is he?", I asked. "Eight". There was a pause. I was half expecting him to say "and a quarter". But he told me he had two younger girls after I asked him why he didn't bring the lad along. But it was clear that something wasn't right. I didn't feel right. I'm not sure he did either, but for two very different reasons.

His life had changed in a tangible way. He told me how he was gutted that they were the only band who could get away with what they did tonight. What he meant was that every night out, let alone a 50 quid one, is something to be cherished. He knew his music as it turned out. Perhaps he can't afford the time to listen to something new or challenging anymore. But that's what we both agreed was the reason why we went. We had no idea what they might do. A stadium act, a global phenomenon, at once the most personal thing in the world to all who came, and at the same time, if they let us, a karaoke soundtrack for the varied lives that we all lead.

I reflected on the night. I'd spent it with friends. I'd had a good time and I'd left to go home. In my usual foolish way I went home without planning where I was going. Hackney isn't the best place to get lost in at night. I knew that, but tonight I knew my life has changed. No longer the innocent, I walked along Roman Road trying not to look as scared as I was. I knew it was written all over me. I've never felt that way before and I hated it.

"I can't listen to Kid A", said the man as we approached East Ham. "Nor can I," I replied, adding "one day, I'm sure I will.". It came on tonight as I put the stereo on. I couldn't listen to it. Too much for me. I wanted comfort and familiarity. I put "In Rainbows" on instead. I felt better as I listened to it.

There's not a band on earth who can evoke such a range of emotions from all who listen. Love. Hate. Sadness. Joy. Pain and pleasure. It's all there. It was there at Victoria Park and never mind what my travelling companion thought about the set list, he knew, as did all of us who went, that what we saw and heard tonight was a thing of frail, flawed beauty; a living work of art in these, our troubled times.

Stag and Dagger is a Camden Crawl for the East End. With more galleries. Sort of.

OK, OK, I admit it. I didn't actually see much of it. I could make excuses, but it largely boiled down to being lazy. So out of the 15 odd venues covering all sorts of genres of music and the arts, how many did I visit? Erm... two. And one of them only briefly. But I was scarred last year by the Camden Crawl. Yes, it was in Camden. And we crawled from one venue to the other trying to get in. We couldn't. And it was crap. So, I tried a whole new methodology with Stag and Dagger. I looked at the venue list and I pretty much didn't know any bands on the list apart from two. So, trying to sound knowledgeable, I picked one of the venues with a band that I recognised, and off me and a friend toddled.

We ended up in the Macbeth. From the moment we walked in it was inevitable we weren't leaving. Bar? Check. Music? Check. Sofa? There was a sofa. It was unoccupied. Not for long. Drinks bought, we settled down to listen to the music. And you know what? I don't regret for one moment not moving much from that sofa.

First up (for us at least) were Dead Kids. I'm not sure if I've seen a band so hardcore as this, stuffed into such a tiny stage in a packed pub. The front man, was a nutter. Demonic but intelligent, with the intensity of Henry Rollins. There was a great point in the set when he jumped on the stage and cajoled the crowd. Then tried to pour himself a drink as if the barman was distracted by the mayhem. He wasn't. A tug of war started over a frothy pint of stella. The barman relented, and the singer smiled. I'm going to check this band out again.

A word on the venue. It was a pub. With lots of people in. The toilets were at the opposite end of the pub by the stage. There were lots of people between the sofa and the toilet. Most were lovely. One wasn't. I don't often come across someone I'd describe as pompous, sanctimonious and jumped up in the middle of a crowd at a gig. But there I was being lectured about how I should get through an over full venue by someone who's day job is obviously a housing officer in a South London council. I thanked him for his advice. It was the least I could do.

Next up were Example. Hip hop. Sort of. To tell the truth, I'm not that much of a fan. But the crowd seemed to dig them. Best I can say is check their myspace page. Anyway, I was pleased when the next band came on. Operator Please changed the pace from Example. In such a small venue, with such an excitable crowd, they seemed to know what to do. They had fun. The crowd had fun. But there's not much more to say about them that I haven't already said about this band in previous entries.

Last up were The Mike Strutter Group. By the time they'd started, then I have to say that sofa had become just too comfortable. I was having a good time, just not really paying much attention to the music. It started, then it stopped. I don't remember it being bad. But I don't have a clear recollection of it either. I blame the lager. Mind you, I always blame the lager.

So there it was. 15 venues. I saw two. It was all good though. I'd heard stories similar to the Camden Crawl about the crowds. I think I got the right idea though. Stick in one venue. Go along with some great company. Make sure there's a sofa. And then stay there. I know it defeats the whole object of these type of events, but maybe, just maybe, they don't actually work too well.

Still, I had a good time. Topped off by a fantastic Brick Lane salt beef bagel. Yum yum

http://www.myspace.com/youaredeadkids
http://www.myspace.com/leadingbyexample
http://www.myspace.com/operatorplease
http://www.myspace.com/mikestrutter

There are times when I really truly wonder why I bother buying tickets to see gigs. This was one of them. When I booked these tickets I'd read something nice about Lightspeed Champion, probably in an NME. They were raving about him. And what with him being involved with the now defunct Test Icicles, how could I resist?

Quite apart from the fact I'd never heard the Test Icicles, and therefore had absolutely no idea what I was letting myself in for, I'd completely forgotten to check the diary and missed that it was immediately after a bank holiday weekend. Now, that's not so bad, all things considered. I'd spent the previous day on a nice walk in the sunshine. I was so enthused about the sunshine I called my mate to enjoy it with me. So we had a beer to celebrate. Thing is, it was really sunny, so we really celebrated long into the night.

I wasn't much for celebrating the next day. I looked at the tickets at work, not enthusiastic. I struck on a good idea. I'm sure I mentioned these tickets to my pal. I emailed him and asked him if he wanted them. "Sure", he replied, "what time shall we meet?".

Bugger. Wasn't getting out of this was I? So, reluctantly, off I headed to Camden. It wasn't so bad, the sun was still shining and I enjoyed my walk through the park. In Camden, I nearly crashed into a strange looking fellow with a tremendous looking hat. Quite out of the ordinary, even for Camden. The oddest thing was I was sure I recognised the chap. Couldn't quite put my finger on it though.

After a quick pint in the tup, we headed off to the venue. I like Koko. It's improved a lot since the old Palace days. At least your feet don't stick to the carpet anymore. Well, to be fair, they wisely took the carpet up and replaced it with shiny wooden floors. But it's a great venue.

It was also loud. Or more to the point, the first band were. Bloody, gratingly, annoyingly loud. And quite honestly awful. And I'm glad I saw them as a support act, because I nearly bought a ticket to see them top of the bill once to see what the fuss was about. Ox. Eagle. Lion. Man. are not my cup of tea. My mate pointed out that their words were probably quite poetic and meaningful. It's just that you can't bear to listen to them because the music really doesn't encourage you to try.

I was pleasantly surprised to see the next band get on stage. It was Operator Please. I'd seen them earlier in the year in Wimbledon. And they played pretty much the same set tonight. I thought that they're beginning to find their feet in the UK, as they sounded tighter, more focussed and, well, way more fun than they did in Wimbledon. I really think they're going to peak during the festivals, so if you get a chance, go see them.

As Operator Please left the stage, I could honestly say that I could have gone home happy, but the main event was to come. After a short while, an old friend came on. No, hang on, it was that bloke I'd bumped into on the high street. Lightspeed Champion. Man of the people. In a hat.

It's at this point I struggle with a review. I'm hopeless at describing music. How can I describe it? Don't know. Er... Acoustic.. ish.. Pop... ish... Indie... ish.. I liked it though. I liked it a lot to say I want to see him again. The band was superb, which greatly adds to the Dev's voice which is outstanding. Talking of outstanding voices, he was joined on stage by Emmy the Great, who added vocals and strings. I wasn't expecting that, and it only added to my enjoyment of some fabulous songs, played by a great band.

Not a lot more to say really - I loved the gig. Apparently there was a big celebrity following there as well. I've never heard of Alexa Cheung. Perhaps you have. She's famous apparently. She was there. So was Kelly Osbourne. Whoever they are, they've got great taste in music, obviously. Great gig. Great night. It only goes to show, sometimes all the signs of it being a really crap evening count for nothing.

http://www.myspace.com/oxeaglelionman
http://www.myspace.com/operatorplease
http://www.myspace.com/lightspeedchampion

It's been a little while since I've seen ¡Forward Russia!. I'd seen them three times when they were touring their most excellent first album Give Me a Wall. In particular, the gig in the Garage in searingly hot temperatures in July 2006 stands out for me as one of my all time favourite gigs, not least because of my awful drunken attempts to start a conversation with the band in the bar afterwards.

Since then, the band have gone back to the studio to record their (tricky) second album, Life Processes. I only bought it a few days before the gig, but played it enough times to be familiar with the new material by the time I arrived at KCSU. I like the venue - it's the only one that gives you the chance to meet the artists on the lift on the way up to the stage which is on the 4th floor of a very utilitarian building just off the strand. It's a great size, and being a student venue, the staff are pretty friendly.

Anyway - back to the band. Or rather, back to the band before the band. We'd caught one of the support band's entire set. They weren't bad. But weren't especially good either to be honest. Their material was a bit akin to a Mogwai tribute. But without the talent. Sorry chaps, I couldn't be bothered to find out your name. It's not that the performance was bad - it was just plain boring. And that's a shame because the band they were supporting are anything but.

It came as quite a relief then when ¡Forward Russia! did come on, and they came on in their now familiar rather cool looking band T-Shirts. They're a four piece. They're a strange looking bunch. The lead singer Tom is thin and wiry, with straggly hair, and the guitarist is a beardy type (who I think is called Whiskas - well one of them is and it seems to fit him best) and a rather cute drummer, Katie. Oh and the other one's called Rob. They started with a track called "Spring is a Condition" from the new album "Life Processes". It was a good start. From then on in, the band played a mixture of new and old, but with the clear emphasis on the new material. Tom introduced the first of the older stuff in a rather disadainful manner, acknowledging that we perhaps liked the older stuff more than the new. And to be honest, when they can be compared one against the other like they could when played live it's fairly obvious to me that the newer songs don't stand up to the older ones.

That's a real pity - as part of the charm of the band is the frenetic nature both of the music and the dancing of Tom. It's quite obvious that the new songs are at once more deliberate, more insisting that you take them a bit more seriously. But it really doesn't work as well. Even when performing the stand out song of the new album "Gravity and Heat", the band don't seem to perform with the same level of, well, madness. And like I said, that's a pity. Second albums are always difficult and I think the second album for them is just an example of this well known phenomena in music making.

They finished with the last two songs on the new album "A Shadow is a Shadow is a Shadow" and "Spanish Triangles". The former was pretty good, but I'm not a fan of the second as it's clearly a end of album/gig fadeout song. Way way too cliched for my liking.

Still, I went home happy. Perhaps I'll wait for a third album before I see them again. It's not that I don't like the newer songs, it's more that the band seem deternined that we should prefer them to the older ones. No chance, Tom. Sorry.

http://www.forwardrussia.com/

If you want to see dance music played live you can do far worse than checking out Crazy Penis (or Crazy P as they've now rebranded themselves). House music played live. Superb. If you've never seen them, and you love live music, you'll love this band. But if you want something dirty, something a little more, shall we say down to earth, a more visceral experience, you need Holy Fuck.

They're a four piece from Toronto, and their music is a little difficult to nail down. They do live electronica. But that's not helping. So, imagine two lads each with a table full of electronic equipment in front of them (keyboards, synths, effects, and weirdly a 35mm film sequencer). Add a bass. And some drums. And watch them perform.

Which brings me neatly to my point about the audience. There were lots of Geek boys there. And a few geek girls as well. The geek boy next to me stared at every unit and effect the lads set up. Studied them to see what they were, making a mental note of everything. And I don't think that's such a bad thing to do, because if he came close to some of the sounds that these boys produced I'd be impressed. They play anything from Dub influenced beats to electro, to acid techno. But nothing sticks to a formula. And the live bass and the drums just adds a fantastic edge to the performance that just wouldn't be there without them.

They built up quite a head of steam. I looked around at the crowd. There was lots of dancing and strangely some dry humping to the music. It wasn't pretty to watch. But everyone was having a good time. Geek boy next to me suddenly had an upturn in his evening as not one, but two geek girls decided it would be fun to go over to him and give him a snog right out of the blue. Poor lad didn't seem to know what hit him. He was probably still trying to concentrate on what the effects boxes were.

What did I think of them? Well, this was the second time I'd seen them. I saw them last summer at Glastonbury and to be honest I thought they were much better then. They're the sort of band I think you have to be in exactly the right state of mind to truly appreciate. If you catch my drift. But I'd still say they're a band to go and see if you can. I'm sure that won't be difficult. It's a pretty safe bet they've got a few festivals booked this summer.

http://www.myspace.com/holyfuck

"Well, this is a bit of a shithole"

Quite an opening line from our Malcy. And to be fair, I think I did well to understand him, such is the way that he mumbles in between songs. And that's a shame, because the man has such a fierce wit that when you do hear what he's saying it's invariably incredibly funny.

But anyway, back to the comment. He was being somewhat ironic. To be entirely honest, half the reason I bought the tickets in the first place was because I so wanted to actually see what the venue was like. I wasn't disappointed. My jaw dropped even as I walked through the door. The Union Chapel is a working church, arts centre and homeless project in the heart of Islington. As a music venue it's superb. The pews are arranged in a semi circle around the stage. And there's not a bad seat in the house. The lighting is simply superb as well, making best use of the interior of the building and the windows.

So, as I stared in wonder around the place, Malcolm and his band (I say band, but it was a chap on a double bass, and the fabulous Jenny Reeve on violin and vocals) came on. He started with a rendition of We're All Going to Die, his Christmas single. It was much flatter than the recording, and I thought that this gig might be a little disappointing from the sound of the song. There wasn't much wrong with it, but I'm not sure I wanted to listen to a whole set of his songs sung in such a down beat manner.

I wasn't disappointed however. I had nothing to worry about. The songs are so well written, so well performed that there was no chance that this was going to be a disappointment. Not a chance. I've not got his latest album yet, and he played a lot of material that was unfamiliar to me. But all of them, yes, all of them were electric.

I did catch a little bit of his between songs banter. He said he was quite disappointed that there was no heckling. I think there was a reason for that. I think we were all so enthralled by the quality of the performance and the beauty of the venue that was the last thing on our mind.

http://www.malcolmmiddleton.co.uk/

I was first played this track as a first year in University in 1990, by a flat mate who's name, I seem to remember, was Neil. As with a lot of people who go away for the first time, I arrived at my new residence a bit wet behind the ears. Neil, however, was cool. He had a guitar. He smoked Marlboro Lights. And he liked Galaxie 500.

Fourth of July is from the Album "This is Our Music", which was released in 1990. It's the first track, and I can still vividly remember the effect that the song had on me the first time I heard it. I was mesmerised. I'd never heard music like this before, although to be fair I wasn't exactly listening to cutting edge music at the time. Queen, Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple formed the backbone of my music collection, so I guess it was going to be fairly likely that this music would sound a bit, well exotic, to the boy that I was at the time. I remember commenting to Neil that all the tracks sounded the same (they don't). He tugged on his cigarette, slowly blew out the smoke as was his way, then sagely replied "Exactly". I'm not sure what that exactly means, but hey, he was cool and I wasn't. So I took it as read that this was good.

I didn't know at the time that this would turn into one of my favourite albums of all time. But it has. It's an album I turn to at various times in my life. It's the sort of album that's the perfect match for episodes in my life where I've been melancholy. Not happy, not depressed, not angry, not upset. Just, well, a bit flat. As regular readers may have read, I'm feeling a bit melancholy at the moment and this track (well, the entire album) is taking a bit of a battering right now.

Galaxie 500 were a three piece who split in 1991 after releasing three albums, of which this one is the last. Their music stands out for itself, but their lyrics are also quite interesting. They range from somewhat bizarre, to tragicomic as is the case with Fourth of July. The song opens with this:

I wrote a poem on a dog biscuit
And even your dog refused to look at it

I was about to say something along the lines of well, we've all been there, but quite clearly we haven't, not literally. But I like the allegory. Later on, this line is trumped by my favourite:

I stayed at home on the Fourth of July
And I pulled the shades so I didn't have to see the sky
And I decided to have a bed in
But I forgot to invite anybody


Even if you've never heard the track before, you can guess it's not an uplifting type of song. On the other hand it's not depressing either. The music has almost dream like quality to it. The mood of the music neither lightens or darkens throughout the song, although the lyrics do hint at mood swings that aren't reflected by the flow of the song:

Maybe I should just change my style
But I feel alright when you smile


Looking back to my first thoughts about the song all those years ago, it's not the case that all the songs sound the same. Rather for me, the songs do share a certain enigmatic quality. Read into them as much or as little into them as you like. I'm sure it means something different every time I listen to it. And because of that, there's no way this song could ever sound the same way twice.

Its been one of the strangest weekends I'd had for quite a while. A weekend of drinking and debauchery, a weekend of loving and laughing, a weekend when I'd surprised myself with the sizes of clothes I could buy in the shops, but also a weekend when I'd fallen off the wagon quite spectacularly. And yet it had also been filled with a tinge of sadness that for the life of me I really didn't need right now.

So it was no surprise that, for the first time in the three times that I'd seen her this year, I was quite taken by the other side of her performance - the songs of sadness, anger, lust and of longing. It's quite apparent that this girl lives life as it's meant to be lived. She writes it as she feels it. And does she feel it. I listened to the words a bit more this time around. And although they're never going to win any prizes for poetry, like the music, the honesty and simplicity of them says much more to me about her than any clever words could.

"Drive away my heart" is such an incredibly personal song for her, written seemingly when she was at her lowest ebb, feeling lonely and unloved. She writes about someone she falls in love with at the time who stole her heart. In "Queen of the World" she sings that she's "free this month, lonely this year, lonely for ever". It's a fantastically worked song, quite reminiscent of some of the Smiths best moments with Marr-esque guitar playing. It plays that brilliant trick of being simulataneously hopeless but hopeful. If you don't believe me, then listen for yourself

The real joy of her music is that its almost a documentary of her life. You see her happy. You see her sexy. And you see her sad. I was glad I'd come with my friend who "discovered" Ida before me. She'd not been to see her before. Not for want of trying though. We'd talked about which of the three we should go to together. It wasn't this one, and I certainly didn't think I'd see all three. But it's a funny old world. Some things are just meant to be.

As we began to make our way out, I asked my friend what she thought. After some thought, she glanced back at the stage before delivering her verdict.

"Fuck Girls Aloud", she said, "She's a real role model for women".

Quite.

What happens when you take the angst ridden mincing of Chris Martin, add a dash of Marti Pellow's inane grinning, paint it all on the face of Toby Anstis and project it on a huge screen? For me the end result was pure comedy as I laughed at Tom Smith's theatrics through the first few songs of Editor's set last night. I've got to say in his defence it wasn't his fault that where I was stood, I couldn't see much of the stage, so I was compelled to watch the big screens. But, this being the 4th time I've seen the band, this was the closest look I'd given him. I wish I hadn't.

The first time I saw Editors was in Brixton a year or two ago. I remember I'd heard that they'd built up quite a reputation as a live act. They'd released their first album "The Back Room", but I purposely hadn't bought it before I saw them. And I've got to say I loved the gig. So much I remember commenting at the time that they were "my new favourite band". I bought the album the next day, put it on and loved it. But, as with so many albums that I love the first time I listen to them, I thought that the instant accessibility of the music is traded for longevity. So much so, I rarely listen to it much at all these days. I haven't bought the second album either, which does have plenty of catchy tunes on it, but is pretty much the same sort of thing.

Why have I seen them four times you may well ask? The second time I saw them was at V, and I remember I enjoyed it, but not quite so much. I'm wasn't sure why, so I saw them again at Glastonbury. I don't think the experience was any better, as I have no clear recollection of seeing them at all there. But there might be other (cough) reasons for that. And last night I hadn't planned to go, but there was a spare ticket, so being a sucker for the live music experience I went along.

Half way though the gig, I decided I could no longer take looking at Tom's effete performance on the big screen, so I moved over to the side but a lot nearer the front of the stage. This was much better as I no longer had to look at the big screen. I don't really appreciate big gigs much, so I'm not a fan of watching a big screen at all; the new viewing position was much better, and I think I appreciated the band much more.

That's not to say that I've changed my mind about them though. I don't think I'd pay to see them again if I'm being honest. And it's not because they're a bad band. They do what they do really well. Tom's vocals are absolutely phenomenal, and the screaming guitar playing of Chris Urbanowicz marks the band's now unique sound. The songs are all (apart from the dreaded ballad) well written, all of them catchy. The thing is, they're all of them pop songs. And that's at the heart of the matter for me.

When I first heard the band play, the distinctive sound was moody, dark and brooding. The lyrics that I caught seemed to have something to say. But the problem is that they don't have much to say at all. One of the guys described the resulting sound as "Joy Division Light". I'm sure the phrase wasn't his invention, but you can well understand it. Editors write songs about pain and loss almost voyeuristically. I don't feel connected to their songs, largely because they don't either. They don't feel the pain or the anger. They just write about it. Joy Division didn't simply reflect these emotions, they lived them. And there's a huge gulf between these two bands.

It's sometimes not easy to listen to Joy Division, but it's never a chore to listen to Editors. Take your pick. Which band matters most? Editors I'm sure will continue to entertain with their unique sounding niche of indie/rock/pop/what have you. I'm sure I'll put their album on again once in a while. It will probably cheer me up as I tap my feet to the tunes. But their music won't ever touch my heart the way I'd hoped it would when I first heard them.

As the champagne trickled down my face and into my mouth, I casually wondered if I'd failed in my promise to lay of the drink for Lent. I quickly forgot that thought as I bounded back skywards, my fist punching the air with a big grin on my face. I wasn't the only one. The place was going crazy. It seems that this is just a typical night with Imperial Leisure.

I've seen them before some months ago. It was at Madame Jo Jo's. I can't lie about the night. I was drunk. Pissed. Hammered. I remember the hangover almost as much as the night itself. I think we'd gone to see a band called Union of Knives. But it was Imperial Leisure who were on after that I remembered most. I'd never heard of them before. But I certainly never forgot them. Loads of guys packed on to a tiny stage going mental. Driving the crowd mental. And we all danced and sang and drank and fell about laughing it was so good.

But I had a sneaky suspicion that the lagers had chemically enhanced the experience somewhat. Surely the weren't that good? The two mates who were with me that night certainly seem to remember they were good. But you just never know. So this was going to be a test to see how good they really are. As usual, 2 tickets were bought, but my pal couldn't make it. I couldn't persuade anybody to go with me, so I was going on my own. And I really didn't fancy it. I was tired and I had to hang around in work for quite a while. I very nearly went home.

So I arrived tired, irritable and unenthusiastic. And I was going to stay sober. Nice. I bought a drink, then found a nice spot right in front of the stage while one of the supports, The Bookhouse Boys, finished their set. They were pretty good I thought. Nice shoes as well. I had a little sway to them. I wouldn't call it a dance though. I was far too grumpy for that.

Imperial Leisure came on, and because this time I wasn't sozzled, I counted them. My memory of how many there were on stage on that drunken night was a little hazy. My calculation was anywhere between 25 and 90. There are in fact 10 of them. They're all friends from North London. There's a brass section, a DJ, guitar, bass, keyboards, bass, 2 MC's and a singer. They play a mix of hip hop, ska, and rock. But that doesn't quite capture the sheer infectiousness of the band. The energy. Boundless energy.

I moved a bit more for their first song. My arms started to swing during the second. My feet were moving by the third. I leapt in the air for the fourth. I was having a full on party by the end. In between, I'd been grabbed by the lapels by the singer, ducked out of the way of a enthusiastic trombone player and been showered with champagne. And the quality of the songs all through was fantastic. All of them without exception are sing along classics. "Landlords Daughter", "The beast" "Man on the Street", and their new single "In a letter" all stand testament to their sense of fun. And just to cap it all some superb lyrics if you can catch them.

Quite why I struggle to find people to go with me leaves me at a loss. Just listen to their recorded material. Then imagine seeing them do it live about 2 inches from your face. And think how much fun it would be. It's ten times more fun than that. I certainly am not going to worry about going to see them on my own again. I'll tell people how good they are. I'll tell them what they're missing. It's the best I can do. But if I can't make the case for them, I'll simply go see them again and let them state their own case on stage. Loud and clear. Right where they belong.

I saw a girl at the bus stop who'd been there. I'd seen her jumping up and down. I'd seen her laughing, shouting, singing. She was still smiling waiting for her bus. That says it all really.

http://www.myspace.com/imperialleisure

I don't often buy albums as soon as they're released, much less pre order them, but I did with this one. It's been 3 years since his last release "Body of Song", and it's not that I'm bored of any of his records, but its a case of I was sure that this one wasn't going to disappoint and it doesn't.

Bob Mould isn't exactly a household name, but in his 25 years of making music, he's had a tremendous influence on the music world. He came to prominence with the 80's Punk band Husker Du, who's influences still resonate in music past and present. He quit the band in 1987, and set off on his solo career, with two very raw albums Workbook and Black Sheets of Rain. He then formed a band, Sugar, with which he had a great deal of success most notably with the album "Copper Blue", before the band split and he returned to making solo music.

Since the Sugar years, Mould has diversified his life, running a club night in Washington DC (where he lives now) called Blowoff. He's even written wrestling scripts. But it's his music that he returns to over and over again. Most often loud and visceral, always thoughtful, melodic and most importantly often experimental. He has not been content to stick with the same sound, and this culminated in his album Modulate released in 2002, where he experimented (i think fairly unsuccessfully as it happens) with dance beats.

At 47, this is his 7th solo album, and I think it's one of his best. It's an album borne of his life in DC over the last 5 years, the ups and downs, and reflecting on growing older. This doesn't make it any less a Bob Mould album than any other, as it still has the essential ingredients that has made his work so good over the years; great song writing, thoughtful lyrics, loud guitars and his very unique voice.

As always, he writes about loves and losses in his life, and on this album, "Again and Again" tells the story of another "ugly fall from grace" in his words. It tells a story much like his song "Moving Trucks" on his album "The Last Dog and Pony Show", and as a song for me it's as good if not better than this favourite of mine.

The single off the album "The Silence Between Us" is quite the opposite, even though the title seems to promise a similar story. It's a song of love and of time spent together. A beautiful song and a fantastically catchy tune.

The silence between us is the time when
I can hear the thoughts on your mind

But it's also a reflection of his place in the world, and his growing feeling of finding himself and being comfortable with where and who he is. In "Old Highs, New Lows", he reflects on this new calmness in accepting all that life throws at him good and bad. And then just for good measure in "Return to Dust", he gives us this little gem as if to underline the point.

Growing old, it's hard to be the angry young man.
Turn away. Turn and walk away.

This is an album of great depth and breadth, a real return to form. Having been a fan of his work for years myself, I'm glad to find he's finding his peace but not losing his edge. I hope there's a lot more to come in the next 25 years.

RING RING
Come on. Answer the phone you bastards
RING RING
Bastards
RING RING
Bloody office should still be open
RING RING
CAN ANYONE GET ME AN OPERATOR PLEASE?

Thus began the most annoying, most expensive, most frustrating trip to a gig I can think of. It had started so well. I'd had a nice relaxing morning, perhaps a little too relaxed, as I left a little too late for my walk. I usually walk from my house and get public transport back, but London transport seems to do it's best to put you in to a car at the weekend, as for the second time running the central line was down from Leytonstone to Stratford. So for the second week in a row I parked up in Leytonstone and walked from there.

It was a beautiful day again in the forest. But I was running late, so I pretty much had to leg it through, all the time calculating how I was going to get to Wimbledon for the gig. The plan was to get there by about 8, and I'd planned to drive and pick up a pal on the way. I was probably getting to Epping station by 4.30, getting to Leytonstone at 5.00, home by 5.30, eat and shower and out by 6.30.

Everything was going to plan I arrived at Leytonstone station bang on time. Only my car was missing. It didn't take me long to realise what had happened. I'd inadvertently parked it in a disabled bay. I didn't mean to. I had no idea I had until I got back. It didn't matter. The car had been towed.

I got hold of the number and dialled it and waited. And waited and waited. Eventually some nice chap answered. He was talking to someone in his office at the same time as me. He eventually found the time to confirm my car had been told then told me it would cost 250 quid to get it back. From Edmonton. Nice. Very nice. Did I mention that they're bastards?

Anyhow. I got a taxi back then just had time for a shower and then with nothing to eat headed for the tube again to get to Wimbledon. I did in fact get there for eight, so it wasn't a total disaster. We had to wait half hour for the band to come on, so retreated to the bar, which was strictly patrolled by bouncers. No drinks allowed outside into the youth club, I mean, venue.

Yes, it was one of those "young" gigs. There were a few brave souls there over the age of 25, but I think maybe 3 or 4 over 30. The rest, well shall we say were probably escaping their homework for the evening. Not that there's anything wrong with that, because us oldies weren't only the odd ones out on the floor, but also on the stage, as this band is young. They age between 17 and 20 and quite honestly they look it, just to make me feel middle aged. They're from Gold Coast in Queensland, and have been together as a band a couple of years. They're a five piece consisting of Amandah on vocals and guitar, a keyboardist, violin, bass and drums.

The first thing you notice about the band is Amandah's amazing voice. Powerful, strong, and a good range. As with a lot of female vocalists, the maturity of her voice belies her age. And she also looks the part. She reminded me of Beth Ditto as the band launched into their first song "Get what you want", which is a stunning song to announce the bands arrival. A real showcase.

They've been doing rather well in their native Australia, having been nominated for a couple of Arias, and played the Big Day Out festivals. So it must have been a bit odd for them to find themselves in this small venue in Wimbledon in the middle of Winter having just left the summer sun at home. The crowd was small and actually quite conservative. I'm not sure Watershed's the greatest of places to see a band though. XFM obviously think so, as it was them that hosted it, but I was seriously unimpressed with the sound. It was far too compressed, and it meant that the band really had to struggle to get over their infectious energy. In particular, the rather delightful violin playing by Taylor was often drowned out by the rest of the band.

The sound problems unfortunately meant that so much of the character had been lost when they played their single "Leave it Alone". Not a problem as the perfomance of "Just a song about Ping Pong" made up for it. It's a song so corny and I don't mean that in a bad way. But not many bands could make it that much fun. Well done to them. They finished with "Zero Zero", which I'd not heard, but it was a cracking little finale.

I've got a feeling we'll here a lot more from this band of energetic Australian yoofs. They're booked for Leeds and Reading festivals. And I think its in the summer sun (or rain as the case may be) that they'll make it. Something wasn't quite right tonight though. Maybe they missed the outdoors. Maybe they missed the sun. Or maybe they missed home. I don't know, but the gig never really came to life as much as I'd hoped.

I wish them all the best though. I hope to catch them this summer with a beer in my hand catching some rays. Just how they're meant to be heard.

Now back to reality. Anyone seen my chequebook?

I don't think I enjoyed the gig on Thursday. But my review was slightly misleading. I had in fact seen Justice before. They were at Field Day last summer. Now, that might have been the case and I can confirm I was there. But I don't remember seeing them at all. Largely because:

a) The organisation there was so poor that they hadn't laid on enough bars. Hence I ordered 8 beers when I got served (like everyone else). I didn't intend to drink most of them, but I think I did. That's not my fault is it? I couldn't give them away and they bloody well weren't going to drink themselves.
b) The sound was so poor that you really couldn't hear much yards from the stage. This was of course exacerbated by the fact I was slightly squiffy and probably on the floor at the time, due to (a). I also cannot remember if I actually was on the floor, also due to (a)
c) Justice are very dull, so I can't be blamed for forgetting I had seen them. I bet they played that song over and over again though.

But one thing I am annoyed about is that I didn't see Late of the Pier who were supporting. Knowing me, someone will probably tell me I've seen them before as well. Oh well, at least if I keep blogging who I've seen I'm not going to forget again.

Ah. Valentine's day. A day to look forward to. Love is in the air. And according to my free lifestyle magazine "The Newham Mag" that the council sends me in return for my council tax, a day to romance your loved one. In Newham. Seriously. They had an article on it, which was unsurprisingly small. Much as I'd have loved to take up their top tips, I had a few problems:

a) Who in their right mind would want to romance their loved one in Newham?
b) Why wait till Valentine's day to romance your loved one? and;
c) I, er, don't have a loved one to romance in the first place.

Obviously Newham was out of the question. I had plans anyway. I was going to see a free gig at the 100 Club, where Bombay Bicycle Club were playing. Now, lack of a loved one not withstanding, I was looking a bit short of mates to go there with, so I was facing up to the possibility of being out on my own on one of the crappest nights to do so on. I might be pretty cynical about the Valentine's malarkey, but having said that, the west end is full of snogging couples on the night, and at the very least it can put you off your diet coke and at the worst send you off on the kind of voyage into introspection that I've been carefully avoiding for the last few months (well, apart from in my blog, but that's a different story).

It was therefore perfect timing when I got a call from a friend in the afternoon to ask me what I was up to that evening. So, obviously there was no need to ask him whether he'd got back together with that bird he'd been chasing. I optimistically asked him if he fancied going to the 100 club, but it turned out he had tickets to Justice, going along with another couple of losers without a date other mates. Sure. What the hell. Never heard of them though. He told me they sounded like Daft Punk. Can't be that bad then I suppose if they're similar to them.

It turns out the only similarity with Daft Punk is that they're also French. But I don't think I remember Daft Punk being as predictable and, frankly uninteresting as Justice were. We arrived just in time to see the whole set. Which at the time seemed like a good thing. Bizarrely we were told that we could only put bags in the cloakroom on accounts that we'd "arrived late". "Sure thing, mate", I replied, " It's got nothing at all to do with the fact you've not got enough capacity to handle people coming through the doors all wearing coats in mid winter". This didn't appear to go down too well, so we disappeared into the venue.

It was indeed full when we got in, and the band were just coming on as we'd arrived. I say band, but they're actually 2 guys. And they just bob up and down like "live" electronic acts do. Not especially interesting. Thats why Orbital and the Chemicals put on lights for you to look at. These guys managed to put an illuminated Cross on the front of the stage, and after that the lighting was at best described as minimal. One of my mates said it was so bad it was a hair's breadth away from those traffic light mobile disco lights. And he was pretty spot on.

Justice, (well actually Justice vs Simian) are best known for "We are your friends", which to be fair is a stonking tune. A fantastic electro masterpiece loved by many. And boy did they milk it. Over and over again. We heard that damn line throughout, and the kids lapped it up every time. It's a pity that the quality of the music in that track wasn't really reflected thoroughout. The sound they play (if they do actually play - what the hell do they do behind the desk?) I'd describe as big beat. Very loud. Very unsubtle. And very dull after a while.

Initially it was all pretty good, but it didn't really progress. Just the same sounds, the same beats and the same samples played in a different order. And that bloody "We are your friends" chucked in for good measure to remind us all who they were. I think it's fair to say that they played to their audience who would have been pleased if they'd have just put their album on and sat around on deckchairs for an hour. They went wild over an electric guitar sample for goodness sake. It wasn't even a good one. And then they played "We are your friends" over it. Again.

I'm glad it ended when it did. We all were to be honest. We couldn't help it though. That tune is so catchy we ended up singing it as we left. We made a few slight adjustments to it though.

"We've... got.... one song.
It.... goes... on and on."

Repeat. For ever. You get the picture.

It had been less than a week since I'd seen Ida at the 229. She'd been so good then I'd got tickets for this gig the same night, which was fortunate as, unlike the 229 gig, this one looked like a sellout.

The Borderline is a fantastic venue for someone like Ida. It's small, and gloriously sweaty and cramped. It creates a fantastic atmosphere and it was a treat to be there. I'd gone along with a friend this time, and it was a real surprise that we bumped into another one of our mates there who had gone by himself. So the three of us went down the stairs to wait for the band to come on.

I looked around, and I remembered a few faces from the previous Thursday. I wondered if they recognised me (and I hope they noticed that I actually had some friends!). We managed to find a spot right in front of the stage, and thankfully without the confounded pillar in the way, although we had to split up as space really was limited. it wasn't a worry, as the band soon came on.

She was wearing the same hat, but this time she wore a rather funky green dress. And she looked good enough to eat. I think I'm already developing a teenage crush on the woman. It doesn't help that every song seemingly is about sex, as she delightedly informed us. I'm not sure the set was the same as the last time, but although it wasn't quite as loud, the sound was much better.

"Did you see us on Jools Holland?", Ida enquired. She giggled before answering her own question "We looked cool". And if they gave as good a performance as they did tonight, I'm sure they did. She then poured a bottle of water over her face, and swung round towards the audience, showering the ones closest to her with the water and her sweat. She looked the part as she launched into "I like you better when you naked" which once again was heaps of fun. But it was "Oh My God" once again that was the highlight. Unbelievably, it was better, more exciting, more passionate and so bloody good, I couldn't believe my own ears.

Thankfully, tonight the crowd managed to get her to come back for an encore. She sang "We're all going to hell", which is a beautiful number, and we all were encouraged to sing along as the music faded away. We all went to Heaven for a moment. Perfect.

Oh My God. This was very good.

I'd been looking forward to seeing her for some time, after being introduced to her music by a good friend of mine. Unfortunately she couldn't make it tonight, so I turned up tonight on my own to a venue that I wasn't particularly keen on. I'd been there once before to see Archie Bronson Outfit. It wasn't the most successful night as I'd turned up worse for wear with two friends in worse states. And we ended up getting there late, so we missed most of the gig. But I really didn't like the venue much, so I wasn't expecting a great place to get to see her. But, what I didn't know is that there are actually 2 venues there - one much more intimate than the other. Luckily this gig was in the smaller venue, which is lovely and compact with low ceilings, sofas and a relaxed friendly atmosphere.

I arrived just as the support band was starting. And the first thing I noticed as I walked past the stage was that it was loud. Ear damagingly loud. The poor barmaid couldn't actually understand a word anyone was saying and we all resorted to pointing. So, non alcoholic drink in hand, I focussed my attention to the support band, Cage The Elephant. I'd never heard of them or their music before. But I quickly took to them. I don't think I often refer to a band as "tight", but these guys really were fantastically well rehearsed. Hailing from Kentucky, the 5 piece play a sort of funky, blues influenced rock, and (I'm not good at this sort of stuff) they at times sounded a bit like the Black Crowes. But then again I haven't listened to the Crowes for years so the comparison might not be good. But I'd definitely see them again if I had the chance. I'm glad I saw their set.

It was a half hour wait for the main event. This gave me time to have a look around the room and see the people who were there. And it was a pretty interesting mix. Age range was about 18 - 60 which is pretty impressive. There was no obvious "type" of fan there. But there was the worlds most loved up couple there snogging the whole time they were there. And there was the smelly crusty who decided to stand next to me. And he reeked. But mostly people there seemed all up for a good time.

Ida and the band came on, and the first thing you noticed is her striking looks. She's got fantastic piercing eyes, and a brilliantly dramatic dress sense, coming on stage in hoopy tights, and a rather lovely looking hat. "This is my Wonka hat", she explained, "Or rather my wanker hat. Ha ha". Well, I think it looked pretty cool. The guitarist reminded me of John Lord out of Deep Purple such was the magnificence of his moustache. She's from Sweden or Norway. I'm not sure what the arrangement is there but she performs all the songs in English. Which is terrific news for me as I'm not particularly talented in Nordic languages (I didn't speak a word of Swedish other than "Takk" when I was in Stockholm).

Ida and the band have released only one single so far, but I'm familiar with a fair bit of the music from her MySpace page and various podcasts and radio plays. Her MySpace page describes her music as Indie/Punk/Rock, which I suppose just about covers it, but it doesn't prepare you for the energy and excitement she puts into the performance. It helps that the songs are all pretty good as well.

The set was short (about half hour) but of exceptional quality throughout. The obvious highlights were "Stella", "Oh My God", and "Better When You're Naked". The latter is something special - musically nothing out of the ordinary, but so much fun. It's now officially for me the most sexy song in the world. I never knew you could have so much fun singing along with the words of the song

"I like you so much better when you're naked
I like me so much better when you're naked"

over and over again.

She finished with "Oh My God", the stand out song from the set. To hear it live was truly breathtaking. That's why I've found tickets for her gig next week.

I think this is the third time I've seen Art Brut and I was wondering how come they've not had more success in their 5 years together as a band. Don't get me wrong - they're not doing bad, but with 2 really good albums to their name and what with them being a highly amusing and entertaining live act, it seems to me that all their hard work isn't producing the success that I really think they deserve. Especially since they seem to work so hard at what they do, with what looks like a punishing tour schedule.

We arrived just as the band had started, which was impeccable timing as we'd stayed in the pub watching the dull-fest that an England friendly is. But at least Nigel the landlord at The Stag laid on some food which is always gratefully received.

Whilst the band is pretty good, the live experience really is all about the singer Eddie Argos and his performance. I think in another age, he could be described as zany, and he certainly has a style all of his own. His vocal style is more rhythmic than melodic, as he tells stories of ex girlfriends, days in bed, fighting and what ever seems to be on his mind. The performances of the songs live don't actually differ much from their recordings, so there's not a lot really to say about them, other than the quality of the songs are fantastic, and each and every song is so much fun to listen to and watch the band.

I said at the start I'd seen the band 3 times. Would I see them again? You bet I would. Always a pleasure - and what's more they leave me each time with the biggest grin on my face. I hope they get the success that must come their way soon. They deserve it. They deserve to be Top of the Pops. Go see them whenever you can.

Art Brut - Top of the Pops

Ralph McTell is best known for his song "Streets of London", which had chart success and won him an Ivor Novello award. But there's a lot more to him than just one song, far more than I know about in fact. A singer/song writer of considerable talent, his styles vary from folk to blues, from love songs to psychedelia.

"Kew Gardens" can be described as a whimsical folk song, but that belies the sensitivity of the song, the performance and the lyrics. At the time it was written, McTell had never been to Kew, but the song was written after a friend of his visited and described it to him. It tells the story of of a shy man and woman as they spend a day in the gardens. I love the pattern and pace of the lyrics as he describes the pair as they spend their afternoon on a summers day. In particular I adore the words describing the moment the man sees the lady as she enjoys the pleasant surroundings of the gardens:

He saw her linger
And With her finger open up a rose,
Standing on tip toes

As the story continues, the rain starts to fall and they innocently spend some time together, chatting until the sun comes out once again, obviously enjoying one another's company and losing themselves in each other. And then they part, never to see each other again at the end of the day.

And one of the griffins cried

For me, this song really does really appeal to the romantic side of me. I love the thought of meeting the love of your life in such a way - but what I really like about the song is that although it's obviously a gloriously rose tinted view of love amongst the lily ponds and pagodas it's actually a story of love lost, or perhaps more poignantly love never found.

I first came across this song through buying my Dad a birthday present. He's always loved the song "Those Were the Days" by Mary Hopkin. which incidentally was produced by Paul McCartney and is the most well known of her songs. She recorded a number of Ralph McTell songs, and Kew Gardens was one of them.

I loved the CD I bought for my Dad so much, I bought a copy myself and I always loved "Kew Gardens" on it. And from this CD, I then decided to listen to more of Ralph McTell. It's a tough one deciding which version I like best. McTell's own version is by far the most interesting, as the arrangement of both the instrumentation and the vocals is much more varied and complex than Hopkin's. But for me, the purity and innocence of her voice and the simplicity of the recording compliments the innocence and simplicity of this rather sad tale. And I love it every time I hear it.

Right. Let's get this straight - I'm gong to go off piste with this entry. It's true I went to see King Creosote in Islington tonight. I'll even go so far as to say I enjoyed myself. But I'm not going to stick to the point. So bail out now while you still can.

Having just deleted the word 'So' as the start of a paragraph, on the grounds I feel I start too many sentences with this word, I feel I now I owe it to you to make it worth your while to keep reading. So I'll start at the beginning (and for the observant amongst you I did use the word 'So' there once more - I only promise to not use it at the start of a paragraph (and trust me that's hard enough). I only found out about this gig about 3 or 4 days ago. Little did I know that the tickets had been on sale for 2 or 3 months. So like a fool I asked if anyone wanted to go. Lucky enough one of my friends wanted to go, but as it turned out they couldn't make it. So I had a ticket if I wanted it. Which was cool.

I'm not good at getting up in the morning. I don't think that's ever going to change. On Tuesday I'd overslept a little so I turned up at work at 1pm. A little embarrasing even for me. But today I had to be in for a 9 o'clock meeting. So it was I turned up at 8.30. Not so early for most. But early enough for me. I took in a change of clothes just in case I went to the gig tonight, although I kind of suspected that I wouldn't go. I managed to stay at work till 7. By then I was so tired that I'd had enough. I phoned my friend to tell him I couldn't be bothered going on my own (he couldn't make it apparently). But it turned out he could make it after all. Which was a surprise.

We arrived at the venue at about 9pm. It turned out neither of us had been there before. Which was pretty amazing as we both go to a lot of gigs. As venues go it's just the right size and the sound was pretty good. We'd stationed ourselves in what he called the "'Gay Zone". This was in close proximity to the bar with the weird looking fan boys. Not sure they were gay, but it was close to the bar. So we stayed there. I'd not had a drink for a little while so it was good to have a few with a good mate. It was made all the more fun as he's from Fife as is King Creosote. Apparently, he plays on his Scottishness. But from my point of view don't they all?

I should say a few words about King Creosote. The band was good. He was good. His songs are good. He's good. It was good. But for some reason I didn't think the whole thing was good. Maybe I expected it was going to be better than the last time I saw him. But that's an unrealistic expactation. I think perhaps reflecting on it my original decision to go home tonight was what I really wanted to do and no matter what he did on stage tonight it wouldn't be good enough. That was probably it - as he was good. Very very good. But I still didn't feel the same about it all as I did the other times I'd seen him. Perhaps I want him to do another album? The truth of the matter is I don't know.

But as I left the venue tonight, what was apparent was that sometimes it's not the music but the company that you're with. I'd not seen my mate for a couple of months. I'm sure if he reads his he's say I was gay for saying it, but tonight was much more about friends than the music. Don't get me wrong - Kenny plays a pretty decent soundtrack to that - but it has to be said I was on my way home until he said he could make it. It's not that I don't go to gigs on my own, but tonight wasn't that night.

And then having had a really good night, I listenend to Handel's Solomon (or at least a third of it) on the way home. And it struck me how much I love this music. I'd love to sing again. It doesn't mean you have to believe any of the religious content. Far from it. As I walked home listening to the sheer magic of this music I remembered the men in the choir I was so proud to sing in in Ramsgate. I knew they weren't religious. But I couldn't understand why they wanted to come along. But tonight as I listened to the drama and excitement of this work, I finally undestood why they came. They loved the music. Quite why it's taken me this long to understand that I don't know. But tonight I had one of those Road to Damascus moments. It really doesn't matter if you believe in any of the religious content, but enjoy the music for what it is. I've no doubt that the vast majority of religious art (either audio or visual) was created by non believers - it simply was the practice at the time to find a rich patron who would write the expenditure off "to the glory of God" in the hope of saving his (and let's face it girls it was always a chap) rich arse. But that meant that that the Handels Mozarts and the Michelangelos of the world could express themselves.

And thank God for that.

I've never seen the Pixies play live. Much to my regret I didn't get around to seeing them when they reformed the last time, especially when I hear how good they were. I think at the time I was being sniffy about not seeing bands that had reformed after splitting up. But if I didn't see them the first time around that hardly makes sense does it? Ho hum.

Anyway - on to the track in question. It's the last song from the second album Doolittle. It's a superb album and there really isn't a bad song on it. For a lot of people, the stand out song on the album has to be "Debaser" which is truly a fantastic song, but for me the highlight has to be "Gouge Away". This song always sets the hairs on the back of my neck on end when ever I hear it. It's the most distilled, stripped down piece of rock I have ever heard. For me, what makes it stand alone is the bass and the drums, played so well by Kim Deal and David Lovering. The sound is taut and on edge. When you add the discordant guitars and singing of Frank Black, the song truly becomes a unique sounding piece of music.

But the most interesting thing about it is that because the production of it is so special, it simply gets better and better the louder you listen to it. You really begin to feel the excitement and dynamism of the band. Power and control. It's because of this I auditioned my hifi on it last time I went shopping. I remember the poor assistant's pained expression as I put it up louder and louder. It's not that he didn't understand, I just don't think he liked the music. It takes some seriously good equipment to bring this song out perfectly. I once played this on my flat mates set up. He had the biggest bass bin imaginable. But it wasn't hifi (the bloke in the shop told him that at the time as I recall). When turned up to "11", it really really lost the plot. It was loud, but the whole emotion of the song was lost.

I'll audition hifi with it again. And then one day, I'll be able to live in a house where I can play this as loud as it's meant to be played.

I've been thinking about doing a little thing once a week on a single track that I've been listening to during the previous week, why I like it and what (if anything) it means to me. It seems appropriate therefore to kick off with this one.

You may have heard about this one. Malcolm Middleton is one half of the much missed Arab Strap. His solo career is one that I have followed, and in many ways has overtaken my love of Arab Strap's Material. Anyway - he's decided to see if he can get the Christmas Number one to try and take back the slot for real music.

Taken from his last album, Malcolm says its actually a cheerful song (and for him I suppose it is). It's about, er, well in Malcolm's own words:

"I wrote ‘We’re All Going to Die’ to comfort someone, but I kind of failed. It is saying we’re all in the same boat. It’s going to happen to all of us, so we have to make sure that we do the best we can in our life, so that when we die that we can handle it."

Anyway - it's a splendid idea. Buy the single. Take back the charts.

http://www.wereallgoingtodie.co.uk/

I've got a weird relationship with My Life Story. In my record collection I only own one single of theirs. Its the King of Kissingdom. And I don't like that too much if I'm being honest. But I love the B-Side to this single, "I love you like Gala". They were always one of those bands that somehow got forgotten on my record buying trips. I don't know why. But I've not forgotten them - they were a memorable live act.

So I think this is the third time I've seen them. With probably a 10ish year gap since the last time. And things have changed since then. For them, for me and for every one of their fans. We've all grown up - jobs, kids, mortgages etc. But what did we like about them at the time? Well it helps to know a little about the band. They were (and are) a big band. A string quartet, a brass section and guitars, keyboards and drums. And the irrepressible Jake Shillingford leading (and writing) it all. Whatever they did - they did it big. They split in 2000, and pretty much were forgotten about by most people but were fondly remembered by those who saw them in the mid 90s when it really looked like they might just conquer the world.

Last year they had a reunion tour and I missed out, so I was grateful to get the tickets for tonight. Trouble is I forgot to enthuse anyone else about them, so didn't find anyone else to come with me, so feeling pretty tired and frankly not that enthusiastic, I arrived in the bush just in time for Jake doing some of his post MLS solo stuff. And it was all very low key. And dull. I don't think I was alone in that thought. What applause there was was of the polite variety.

So - that was done with, and the band arrived. And something really wasn't working for me from the outset. It took me a while to figure it out. But the sound was so muddled where I was I couldn't really make out much of what makes the band such a joy to listen to. I couldn't hear the strings. And I'm listening to them as I type this and loving them far more than I did when they were playing live which is quite sad. But I heard the lyrics. I forgot how poor some of them were "She’s down on her make-up, She’s a storm in a C cup" and the aforementioned King of Kissingdom. Oh well. Just forget the lyrics. They are that awful.

At one point Jake looked out to the adoring crowd and said "This is the sound of maturity". And I think I understood what that meant. This was music of its time. The opportunity was missed. Move on. Nothing to see. At some stage in all our lives, this music was a bit special. A bit of a well kept secret. But somehow 10 years later it seemed to me a bit desperate. Jake seemed to try too hard. Some of the crowd seemed to try too hard to remember it all how it was and went a little too crazy. Still, there was time for two well received encores.

Or maybe it's me. Maybe I just wasn't in the right mood. But there ultimately was nothing in the performance that really drew me in. I hope that really isn't the sound of maturity.

Footnote: I haven't listened to "I love you like Gala" for a few years. It's playing now. For the record I still love this song. How I wish they'd played it tonight.

I didn't quite make it to see the Monkeys at Glastonbury. The trouble was that they were playing on the Pyramid, and what with my aversion to big venues (and they don't come much bigger than the Pyramid really) together with the reports of the poor sound I went elsewhere. Probably with a bottle or 2 of wine. But that's a different story.

But somehow I ended up on a wet Saturday evening tramping up the hill to Alexandra palace to see a band I really don't know much about. Which is quite a feat really considering that they're so popular. I really didn't set out not to listen to them, I just haven't OK? Mind you I do particularly enjoy the looks on my gig going friends when I ask what song is playing when they're on. How could I not know that?

So first things first. The venue. Like I said I don't like big venues so I have never been. I didn't go to Arcade Fire because I didn't fancy the venue. But you know what? I actually think its pretty good. It didn't feel like it was a big gig at all. There was plenty of room where we were, and we were quite close to the band. The sound was good and the beer wasn't a problem to get. In fact (don't tell anyone this) but it was an altogether more civilised experience than most gig venues. So chalk that one up as an unexpectedly happy experience.

So on to the gig. Well, I turned round to one of my companions and commented that it was an experience more akin to a football match than a gig. Which is really down to the band, the music and the fans that love it. Now, obviously I'm a football fan as well, so I should be happy right? Not entirely. You see, football songs are football songs for a reason. They're easy to sing, and they cater to our basest instincts to sing and chant together. Which is fine if thats what you want to do. Which I generally don't when I go to a gig, but am more than happy to at football. But that's just me. In particular (and I think I'm going to sound like a middle aged gig goer here but there you go) the songs did in fact sound much the same. Now, "I bet you look good on the dance floor" is a great tune. I'll even admit to that. But the essential pattern of this song was repeated over and over again. And I just don't dig the vocalist's voice enough to get into the brand of chav rock he was delivering.

But it's not that I hated the gig - far from it. I loved the music when the band just played and got on with making music. What made it work was seeing them play together as mates having a laugh, but really really doing the business. Fantastic. But then front man would sing and ruin it for me.

In fairness, I appeared to be the only one (well one of the lads with me sort of agreed) who found this to be the case, but I just couldn't connect with the band or the kids who love them, I couldn't connect with their music, their language, their clothes, their style or much else.

Still, all the football singing got the better of all of us, as we wended our way back down the hill. In the excitement, people started singing "there's only one Ricky Hatton" and so we decided that seeing the fight was the thing to do. Thank god we'd all come to our senses by the bottom of the hill. I was sound asleep as the Hitman took a sound beating.

I got one of those Royal Mail "sorry we missed you" things through the post on Friday. I got a bit excited then remembered I'd bought those Archie Bronson Outfit tickets. So I thought. But when I got to the post office I opened the envelope and discovered it was Emmy the Great. Now I knew that she was playing tonight. And I knew there was a QPR home game against Coventry. I hadn't planned on going. So I'm only guessing I must have been pissed when I booked them. Dammit.

So - after I picked up the tickets off I went to football to see us win 2 nil against Hull. We were so excited about it I huffed and I puffed about whether to go to the coventry game. I decided eventually not to. But when I discussed this with a hammers fan and a music fan at work he couldn't understand. I explained I had tickets for Palace on Saturday and that 3 times in a week to see my team play might be a bit excessive. It didn't compute with him. Not one bit.

I digress. I went to the gig. I arrived early. And I so regret doing so. Last time I say Emmy the Great play it was at the Boardwalk. I went on my own but that wasn't a problem. I got there for all the support acts, and frankly it all seemed very friendly and close. Everyone on stage knew each other. And Emmy played up to it all very well. Her between song chit chat just added to the warmth of the whole gig. Even her mum turned up.

But tonight, was not so great. I'm not going to waste too much time with the support acts. Other than the first band was tedious and frankly forgettable. And the second, well at least they had balls. Which was strange for a band of women. But not enough for me. I fantasised about Polly Harvey jumping on the stage and socking the lead singers jaw and showing her how it should be done.

So anyway on to the main act. But no we weren't. Where was she? Someone else came on who wasn't bad to be fair. But by now it was coming up 10. And my friend needed to get home at some point. And we were all getting impatient, so when Emmy did actually show up I and my friend (and I suspect a reasonable number of the audience) were a little fed up. And then she announced that she'd have to play a shorter set.

Now - don't get me wrong. I love Emmy. A lot. But come on girl. I payed for my ticket. At least show up on time.

So she started playing, and I'm not sure if it was me being jaded or not, but she seemed just a little tired. And maybe a bit fed up with the material. I don't know. Because there was nothing obviously wrong with the performance by her or her band. She sang well. She played well. The band sang and played well. But the atmosphere was so so flat. But this is a woman who's talent can really cut through this sort of problem, and at times she did. I quite lost myself in the magic of her voice and her song writing at times. And what magic she weaves. I was first attracted to the sheer beauty of her music and her voice, but there's a deeper acerbic note to a some of her songs:

"They pulled a human from my waist, it had your mouth, it had your face, I would have kept it if I'd stayed."

This caught me quite off guard. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck. And then. And then... it was time to go. I missed the encore. I hope it was good. I want to see Emmy again. I hope it's better. Because even on a poor night she's pretty good. Which is quite an act to pull off.

Oh and in case you were wondering. QPR lost tonight 1-2 against Coventry to a last minute goal. We'll win at Palace. For sure.

It's a bit of an obsession of mine at the moment, listening to Bombshell, but what the hell. It's my blog and I can do with it whatever I like (apparently not - I can't libel of slander someone, or commit any criminal offence online but I'm just being pedantic now).

Anyway, back on the subject. Lyrics are important to me when I listen to music. Often they can just be filler, but I really think it enhances the music when the words are as beautiful as the music itself. The words to "And the Racket they Made" by King Creosote are I think words of real beauty. Poetry. For me at least. You decide for yourself.


And your words chased round and round in my head last night
they chased their own tails
and your words jigged round my mind all night
to look at me now I'm quiet as sand
and the tide shrinks back into it's womb
and I hope the empty shells and bones of your stories
will litter and clutter the shore
and I hope that when I find them
I'll remember how they danced
and the racket they made
when they were alive

(c) King Creosote 2007