Surprise surprise, it's hammering it down in town, but me and me pals are not the only figures bouncing along through the pissing rain, as the amount of great bands in town tonight playing to sell-out crowds has gig-goers coming and going in every direction. THE BEES' show in the MUSU building was in the Academy 2, so Oxford Street was busier than most as I made my way towards the University. I didn't want to miss 'owt, so I didn't splash in any puddles along the way.
It was just as well. I arrived just in time to hear THE LOUNGS wind down their set with an atonal jazz grind of visor-tastic proportions. 'Seen My Baby Dancing' was minimalist, shambolic and full of layers and layers of vocal harmony that saw the band smiling along with the audience. The St. Helens acid-folk combo were warmly received, and got a big clap for their trouble.
Enter Mr. Trevor Moss and his band. Mandolin, banjo, harmonica, and acoustic/semi-acoustic guitars wielded by a collection of rather bohemian looking types dressed down in shabby evening clothes.
Three or four tunes after a hesitant start and it's crystal clear that INDIGO MOSS are cooking with gas. Their jaded eccentricity was musical also, as Mr. Moss rattled his acoustic up front as his likeable band endeared himself to the crowd, His oddball falsetto is steeped in wailing depth, and came through through a 50's style radio mic as the band harmonised gently
along.
Bodies and waters collide to this! Out came the harmonica as the next 'un crashed into being. Hook-laden 50's rock n' roll, skiffled to a country twang, and thickened with wild backing vocals. At other times it was like some demented take on railroad blues, with their bass player politely assuming the responsibility for rapport with an already appreciative audience during a frenzied instrument-swap.
The dirtied, off-kilter jam of numbers like 'The Only Thing You'll Ever Do Is Help Yourself' had an experimental feel, but their music never strayed too far from the band's roots-laden inspirations. 'Start Over Again' featured an echoing descent down the scale of vocal harmony.
"This is about the place in London where we live" explained Trevor, as they launched into a spirited finale entitled 'The Nature Of This Town'. That request to "Sort the bass out " ensured the room was shaking as this highly impressive and unique blend of musicians signed off in style. This lot are
well worth a listen, and looking around, I think I was in the majority on that one.
The Academy 3 was jammed full by the time HOWLING BELLS took to the stage, following extensive last-minute checks to their equipment. Bathed in blue light, the Aussie rockers opened with album opener 'The Bell Hit'. Haunting reverb on Juanita Stein's vocal complimented the delicious melodic guitars as the gently haunting melancholia depth charged in an ocean of minor and
diminished chords. This was greeted with cheers and applause that raised the roof, from an audience that seemed transfixed to the spot.
'Wishing stone' was a swirling injection of energy. The sliding, shimmering guitars were held in place with another steady drum pulse.'Setting Sun' smouldered away in much the same vein, broken up by the beat and then allowed to surge high over the heads plugged into the sonic overload on a plateau of echoing hooks and drum rolls. The deep country vein ran rich through the jammed out instrumental breaks as the whole thing whipped up a storm of appreciated noise
|
'Velvet Girl' meant equipment tweaking. It allowed time for a little chat to the audience, as Juanita revealed that Manchester was The Mecca for the band when they were growing up. Awww. Not that she's attempting to kiss our asses like..
The slowed-down stomp of 'Blessed Night' sounded anthemic, deliciously simplistic, and huge before dropping into a precursor for the clicking suspense of the ghostlike 'I'm Not Afraid', a half-stepping haunt that carouseled its winding way around the packed hall like some kind of waltz with the dead
'The Night Is Young' sparked a mini frenzy as the "Ohh-no-o-ooo" vocals and spindly guitar hooks interspersed with a rhythmic grind that dropped out to reveal the full beauty of Stein's voice. Their dragging stoner sound slows down the rock n' roll ethic and distorts it to dissolving point, ressurecting the original, near forgotten melody from the disintegration
The spaced-out twang of 'In The Woods' flowed straight into 'Across The Avenue', and heads bounced in time. Looping synthesiser sounds gave their already raw onstage sound an extra jagged dimension as the pastoral tales of sea and sky transmitted across the sonic soundscape. Whispering reverb and
shifting extremes saw dark shadows loom as the stormclouds gathered. Pickups echoed and distorted, as the Bella Union hotshots hit their peak late on.
'Broken Bones' saw our leading lady discard her trusty strat. for a white Rickenbacker, her voice hitting falsetto as the deadening rhythm section weighed down the jam. Tremelo arm distortion warped the melodies as wave after wave of wurlizter noise bubbled underneath.
Ending on a high with the scorching acidic thump of 'Low Happening' got some movement from the audience at last, the build-up stretched to the limit and the beat all the more punishing as bursts of stabbing feedback underscored the disorientated finale. There were cries of "Brilliant", "Excellent" and "More", but there was no encore. There was no need. The band had delivered in full to a sell-out filled with the devoted, and though it wasn't a free-for-all for the crowd, there was more than a sense of spent energy as the lights went up.
|
