Joe Lean & The Jing Jang Jong - Freebutt
Perhaps in these dark days of plummeting sales and label redundancies, bands like JL&TJJJ are but one of only a few bankable options remaining. Every six months or so there’s a new one along with tunes hummable and spunky enough to grace the playlists of Capital and XFM, young and sartorially attuned enough to satisfy NME’s eye-candy quotas and invariably, proffering a sheen of authenticity trowelled on so thick as to dupe your Q guzzling, Tesco album buying 40-somethings into believing they are indeed the real deal. That they could actually be the new Stones, man.
JL&TJJJ, like every other band on this ceaseless carousel of mediocrity, reveal themselves to be a sham in the flesh. And like discovering that not only is the Emperor naked but he also has the word ‘berk’ tattooed across his big hairy arse, tonight’s gig is nothing more than a grim exposé of the gaping, irreconcilable chasm between the quintet’s style and that most elusive of qualities: substance.
Given the ludicrous hype surrounding them at present you could almost forgive them for carrying on like they’re already wrapping up 2008 with a 3 night stint at Brixton, but there can be no excuse for what followed: A 35 minute exercise in rampant egotism and ill-advised self aggrandisement containing therein, a succession of calamitous miscalculations that gave the entire set a toe-curling, watch-if-you-dare vibe set to their own weedy soundtrack of anaemic, characterless indie-garage.
For their opener the band set about a jaunty instrumental, gifting main man Joe Lean a full two minute build up to his entrance. Nothing wrong with a bit of showmanship you might say; but when you’re on your first headline tour playing to ‘please impress me’ crowds on a stage so small it can barely contain your five members the impact of such theatrics is deadened so much as to be laughable. Lean eventually appears centre stage looking rather more like he’s been trapped in the toilet as opposed to timing his entrance to the second from the wings. Across the set his put-on, shambolic between song patter weirdly recalls the twitchy socio-pathic manchild he so accurately portrayed in his recent stint in ‘Peep Show’ as opposed to the enigmatic, strung out Rock God for which he was clearly aiming. Later on, a deeply patronising attempt to stir an audience clap along intro draws all of two pairs of hands reluctantly into the air.
Muscially though they’re not entirely awful, you can hear there’s a degree of craft about the songwriting; debut single “Lucio Starts Fires” zips by like a freshly minted indie floorfiller and follow up “Lonely Buoy” with its frantic stop/start dynamics does at least house a cracking chorus.
But it’s not enough. This is a band so contrived, so predictable and so devoid of any musical imagination they have rendered themselves utterly pointless. Next!
posted by: Jim Brackpool @ 9:20 AM
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Kick out the Jams - Pav Tav
We’re spoilt here in Brighton.
Any given Friday you can go rave-crazy in some grotty basement, strut your funky stuff at a classic Soul night or even hit West St for some gruesome charty cheese fest if the mood takes you.
Sometimes though, you want a night out that’s just familiar and comfy, like an old pair of socks, or in this case a battered old pair of Converse. You wanna go somewhere where every other record is your favourite and whether by day you’re a beaten down wage slave or a burnt out academic (yeah right!) tonight – you’re a Rock and Roll star.
In short, you want an honest-to-goodness indie night, and for music and atmosphere they don’t get much better than KOTJ – back home to roost at Indie Mecca the Pav Tav.
The night follows the classic indie club trajectory. One minute the place is deserted and you’re freezing your nuts off wondering why you didn’t spam out on the couch and get stuck into that Mighty Boosh box set. The next, twenty of your best mates haved piled in, you’re crushed against the bar flapping two fresh tenners about, ‘Young Folks’ is tumbling from the speakers and suddenly, everything is alright in the world.
Long serving DJ Eddie’s teasing everyone onto the dancefloor with a succession of vibey classics and then, just at the right moment he drops a bit of Bloc Party and the whole place goes crackers. KOTJ’s happy mixing up floorfillers old and new - Foals and CSS nestle amongst perennials like Smiths and the Clash - And the flighty mix suits the hugely diverse crowd of lairy students, fancy dressers, mods, and new ravers – it’s a beautiful thing.
posted by: Jim Brackpool @ 9:17 PM
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Explosions in the Sky - Concorde 2
As honours bestowed from Indie Authority on high go, it doesn’t get better than being asked to curate one of ATP’s wildly successful Holiday Camp weekenders. This, coupled with the critical acclaim that met their 6th album, last years ‘All of a sudden I miss everybody’ and the fact they’re presently staring down the barrel of a world tour stretching well into June should give you some idea of the regard in which EITS are held.
It’s fair to say the Texan four piece don’t do subtle. Their sound is wholly instrumental and employs treated twinkling guitars, sweeping chord progressions, quiet/loud dynamics and washes of cavernous reverb to create what to these ears sounds like an overblown post-rock soundtrack to a Disney movie. Mogwai for your Mum, if you will.
Sound familiar? Well yes, there are plenty of bands out there working the same formula but few can compete with the majesty of EITS live. Whilst their records I find are all too frequently sterile and soulless affairs, their precision engineered live show and masterful musicianship was quite something to behold: Each instrument was distinct and purposeful, the material delivered with unerring conviction and concentration and the sound out the front glacial and pristine throughout.
Devoid of any audience interaction beyond a gushingly courteous intro, the show itself was clearly designed to be consumed as a whole. Individual tracks bled imperceptibly into each other, eliciting gasps of ‘Ooh’ and ‘Aaah’ from some quarters of the audience as if they were witness to the firework displays to which EITS sonically aspire. And though they painted from the same palette throughout it never became tiresome as musically there was much to enjoy. Each track developed like a mini symphony, crammed with diversions and explorative passages, its layers unfurling over time with increasing beauty and complexity like some exotic plant in bloom.
They wrapped up one of the latter tracks with some sensational choreography, the three guitarists to the front of the stage quite literally beating the life out of their instruments. As they limped offstage looking utterly drained both physically and mentally it seemed both rude and pointless to clamour for more: EITS it appeared, had already given us their all.
posted by: Jim Brackpool @ 4:05 PM
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Vampire Weekend - Hoxton Bar & Grill
The word in the bars around East London is that the Vampire Weekend gig at the Bar and Grill is the hottest ticket in town tonight. As it transpires, hot is very much the operative word: Such is the demand to catch the ascendant NYC four-piece, the promoters appear to have oversold the venue’s capacity by at least three times and as a result it’s sweltering inside; Literally rammed to the rafters with tipsters and industry all jostling for place.
There’s no easy way to put this: Vampire Weekend appear to be directly influenced by Afro-Beat. Not just Afro-Beat but Calypso, Soca and Ska and there’s more than a whiff of Stuart Copeland about their gangly, indispensable drummer Christopher Tomson. But don’t reach for your rifle or sick bag just yet, if you’re anticipating a Gracelands style cultural car crash you’re way off the mark. For like contemporaries Yeasayer and Dirty Projectors, Vampire Weekend have found a way to artfully channel these more exotic influences into a recognisable indie template, rough it up to give it a crisp post-punk edge and then deliver it live with the deep percussive punch of a carnival soundsystem.
They open with “Mansard Roof” and from the off easy to see why they got the hipsters in such a lather towards the end of last year. It’s like a blast on an especially potent mint, airy, arresting and utterly fresh in every sense of the word. Clattering, syncopated drums push up against a simple one note bassline, creaky organ parts drift about the mix and the whole thing is topped off with an irresistible nursery rhyme-like melody.
It takes them a couple of numbers to properly loosen up but from there on in, each number is characterised by a delightful rhythmic bounce and swing that sets them apart from every other indie band on the planet. Drummer Tomson, plays like he’s got six arms and eight legs and vocalist/guitarist Ezra Koenig wraps his charming yelp and croon about every note, simultaneously displaying a way with a melody that would have Macca grasping at the notepad and pen.
Sadly the set sags a little towards the end. A run of tunes stick to a now all too familiar arrangement and with brevity the order of the day, after a while, you do find yourself craving something a little meatier to chew on.
But things pick up again with “One” which, bolstered by an impossibly skippy drum break, were it not for the sardine-like conditions would surely have inspired all out freaky dancing. They close with “Walcot”, sadly not inspired by Erikson’s ill fated 2006 squad but nevertheless the closest this band will ever get to ‘anthemic’ and though not quite as distinctive as the remainder of their oeuvre, surely it will be inescapable a year from now.
posted by: Jim Brackpool @ 3:57 PM
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