This page is a running tally of all the concerts I've been to - half to inform you as to who's great, mediocre, or shitty live, and half to remind me where I've been (you know how the mind starts to go...). So enjoy!
Cassetteboy and DJ Rubbish's mixtapes are legendary, but their live show is full-on comedy theatre. The audio on continuous playback is mimed by a cast of costumes including Geogre Bush and Tony Blair (acting out erotic Harry Potter fanfic, for one), a santa claused Michael Jackson, and a host of tacksuits. Absolute genius, and my face hurt from grinning. In comparison, four men up on stage doing nothing more than playing and low-level humming was never going to be exciting. And it wasn't. Then there was Gescom, who seemed to be more of a loose DJ collective than any one man, but by this point, I was exhausted after 5 nights in a row of musical stimulation, and left to, well, get some sleep.
The first time I saw Crack Village they were in silly costumes. My, look at them now - tight, hiphop rhymes, intricate melodies curtousy of Beby Bo, and not a hint of their earlier novelty status. Dabrye follows with much less show but much more agression. His is an awkward performance - he eschews any onstage visuals to allow your ears to fully focus on the assult. Half Aphex Twin and half Kid 606, Dabrye demands your full attention. Last but not least is Gold Chains. The place may only be half full, but every single person is a true member of the GC crew, shaking and shouting with an energy to match Toph's onstage posturing. He took crowd requests, played new material, and stayed attached to the laptops until thye curfew enforcers dragged him off. It was a shame more people weren't there, but the ones who were got one HELL of a show.
The song or two I caught of Ella Guru were nice enough - the seated instrumental niceness of their sound brings to mind the latest incarnation of The Delgados, in fact. But before I can make up a true opinion, Joy Zipper are on, and to my huge disappointment, play almost nothing from the stunning American Whip. Unfortunately, the innocent sunkissed pop of their records falls flat in the cold, dark club setting. Perhaps Joy Zipper are the perfect festival band, but the ICA in December is definitely a no-go. Lucky for us then, that Hawksley Workman is a performer par excellence. He effortlessly moves from acoustic ballads to rock to cabaret to pianoed longing, all the while accepting flowers and adoration from the sellout crowd. His performances are ones that incite the firecest loyalty from first-time audiences, and he is NOT to be missed.
I will be kicking myself fpr quite some time that I arrived too late to see The Killers, but the good side of this is that I arrived late enough to only catch the last song from the Blueskins. Terrible.
Ikara Colt arrive like a ton of bricks, proving that their new album will be just as great as the previous one. Personel changes have no affect on the quality, and the skeptics are left with nothing but sheepish smiles.
Carina Round held the early bird crowd in the palm of her hand. With every flick of her head and growling vocal we stood captivated, entranced by her. She's got the melodies, the personna, and the guts to shake off those early PJ Harvey comparisons. Stardom awaits. Patrick Wolf came next, sporting a U-turn of a haircut and a basket overflowing with songs. His live shows capture the best parts of Lycanthropy, and new songs like "Beastality" make me crave the next album. Finally, the Futureheads finish the night with a full on rock extravaganza, but, not knowing their material as well as Carina and Patrick's, the best they could ever hope for is to come a close third in my mind.