It's Over, For Good.

Dananananaykroyd - It’s a stupid name, no one can pronounce let alone spell it without practice. It belonged however, to the finest live band I’ve ever seen, and by all accounts they kept up the standard last night, at their final gig ever. I’ve been lucky enough to see them live twice, first time at SWN Festival ‘09, and the last in Cardiff a week ago. They will be missed, no band makes music in quite the same way, are as audience involving or, as lovely as Dananananaykroyd. Some of the individual members of the group have their own musical projects, but really, it’s goodbye forever to the creators of the wall of cuddles, and fight-pop.

Los Campesinos!, The Globe Cardiff - 10th Nov ‘11

The first act is something of a surprise. He’s called John Mouse, and was not mentioned in any of the publicity (that I saw) before the gig. He walks on stage alone, sings loudly “god” and then stops. There’s a slight sense of confusion from the audience, but completely undeterred he carries on, “god, put you on this earth. To save me”. He explains, with a strong Welsh accent, that normally he has a band with him, but they’re all in London and pretty miraculously for the first support act of an evening, silence soon falls as people stop talking and start to focus on him. Not afraid to make eye-contact, even during the hilarious track ‘Sex With You’, Mouse is brimming with confidence. His final two songs are especially daring, doing “karakoe” to his own songs, and unbelieveably it really works. He bounces off stage during ‘Got You Shaking Your Head (Like David Gray)’, disappearing upstairs and then reappearing at the back of the crowd. It’s a funny, endearing, entertaining performance, and the way he seemingly doesn’t care at all what we think, only adds to that.

Next up are Strange News From Another Star, who are fronted by Jimmy of Future Of The Left. They also take time to engage with the crowd, even leading in to ‘Tell Your Mother I’m Back. Again’ by asking one of the people I’m with, “what would your mother say if you brought me home and introduced me to her?”, to much amusement. At times their Mclusky-esque thrashing is verging on the overly testosterone fuelled, but that’s brought down with ancedotes, including a wry story about asking a member of Pret A Manger whether the cheese “is dolphin friendly”.

Los Campesinos! make their way on stage and with very little fuss start playing. The crowd remain mostly still, ‘no matter’ I think, things will pick up. Unfortunately they don’t particularly. Sonically, LC! are still very good, they’ve made some clever, slight changes to their older songs -  some really interesting syncopation on ‘Miserabelia’ and they get away without Harriet’s beautiful violin playing, replacing it with an echoing, stretched guitar melody that fills the gap without compromise. But something still isn’t quite right.
When they suffer a slight technical difficulty in between two songs, Gareth tries a little to keep us entertained, but seems mostly content with the silence. This happens a couple of times, his anecdotes and jokes feel a little forced and at one point, when he says, “I’m finding it hard to take this singing thing seriously” the ripple of laughter from the audience is more polite than genuine.

Again, I should point out that it was mostly of a very high standard, ‘To Tundra’ is as powerful live as you could hope, the sharp opening rhythm blares out, and the bass vibrates through the crowd, but there’s always been something more to LC! concerts than just how they sound. If I compare tonight to the (many) times I’ve seen them before, it just isn’t in the same league. I was expecting a sweaty, exhausting and amazing evening and I didn’t leave the venue, thinking ‘yeh, that’s why they’re my favourite band’ which is normally what happens. At times, things pick up and it feels more like all those other times. The inevitable crowd-pleaser ‘You! Me! Dancing!’ livens the pace, although the usual throw-away comment about beer is mumbled out, and they follow it up with ‘The Sea…’ which brings things right down again.

There’s an encore tonight, unlike on Sunday, when the applause petered away pretty quickly, so that’s a little reassuring, but even then, as “one blink for yes, two blinks for no” is shouted out, something still isn’t quite right. Personally, I love ‘Hello Sadness’ (read my review of it here for evidence), but I’ve seen a fair amount of people who haven’t. It’s been preying on my mind for a while, whether a band can remain as consistently good as they have done, let’s hope this is just a temporary blip.

Danananaykroyd, Cardiff Undertone - 5th Nov ‘11

Danananaykroyd are splitting up, if you didn’t already know. In fact, as of this Saturday they will be no more, (we assume) forever. The day we discovered that this band, one of the most interesting and fun collectives making music in the last five years, are no longer willing to continue was a dark one for the music scene indeed. They promised to “go out with a bang”, and well, that they did.

We arrive at Undertone, a tiny venue lurking underneath a bar in central Cardiff with plenty of time to take advantage of the comfy leather sofas they provide. These sofas are around the edges of what is, essentially just a room with a bar at the back, and a stack of speakers at the front - the monitors creating the “stage” space. It already seems a suitably intimate venue, enhanced by the fact that the group of people dancing around on the sofa next to us, are actually the band.

The support act begin playing without any fuss, the acoustics in the room aren’t great, and I’m still none the wiser about what they’re called, despite the fact they did say (if anyone can tell me I’d be very grateful EDIT: they're called Drains). They play a short set of noisy but rhythmic tracks and then that’s that.

Danananaykroyd make their way on stage well, in a way only they could pull off, the two lead singers Calum Gunn and John Bailie Junior hug their way along the front two rows of the crowd, before launching into the first track released from their second album, ‘E Numbers’. It feels a little strange to be standing so close to the band, and as the crowd get more into things the front rows are fighting not to end up the wrong side of the wires and monitors, to varying degrees of success (which is how I’ve ended up with very bruised shins). Calum Gunn and JBJ have always been charismatic front men, and they’re on form tonight, with jokes about knife fights in Glasgow being a more likely sight than fireworks in their distinctive Scottish brouge - and even managing to get the crowd to crouch down on to the floor before diving into ‘Think and Feel’.

The first half of their set is mainly newer songs, the band are clearly at ease playing them, with a lot of wriggly dancing to the beat. It’s when they start some of their older stuff that the crowd really gets into it. With much hand-clapping and roof-slapping (I did say it was a small venue) they work their way through the highlights of ‘Hey Everyone’. The humour evident in their (highly enjoyable) tour videos and irreverent blog posts comes through even on what is a slightly sad occasion, the last time they’ll ever play this city. Guitarist David Roy adds musical backing to the joking around, with an impressive ‘X Factor style’ version of Muscle Memory improvised. This comes about after they say, with mischievous straight faces, that they’re only splitting up so they can go on X-Factor next year under a different name. Waving, they finish on ‘Infinity Milk’, but it’s not long before they’re back. The set up of Undertone doesn’t really allow for tension building as we can see them standing slightly to the right as a chant of “Da - Na - Na - Na - Naa - Kroyd” starts up.

The famous wall of cuddles is not forgotten, and for one final time, JBJ and Calum split the crowd down the middle, egging us on as each singer says “my team always wins”. There’s a palpable irony in their voices, we all know that this is one of the last times they’ll be doing this. The sweet, joyus melody that opens ‘Some Dresses’ is shoved into our already echoing ears, and as it begins to fade out, the hugging goes a little awry and we all end up in a heap on the floor - I’m pulled to my feet by a slightly concerned looking Calum, who checks we’re all okay and the band mill around a little longer, for some more hugs, saying their goodbyes and then that’s it. Goodbye Dananananykroyd.

On a slightly more personal and general note, I can’t think of any other band that I’ve been this genuinely sad to see go. They’ve always been endearingly enthusiastic about what they do, seem to genuinely care for their fans (can you think of many other bands that would take the time to help out and ensure the audience are ok if things get a bit messy?) and it’s with a heavy heart I finish the last thing I’ll ever get to write about them.

WHY? - Bristol Coulston Hall, 23rd Oct '11

Bristol Coulston hall is heaving when we arrive, I’m a little surprised by this, until I remember it says on my ticket that we’re going to hall 2 for WHY? Rather than hall 1, where Stephen Merchant is playing. We’re told that they’re running an hour behind, and so we hang around. Eventually the foyer is almost empty, it’s at this point that someone else who’s there for WHY? Turns to my

friends and I to share with us the story of “how my friend has found the most beautiful, true kind of love” (the reason I’m mentioning this will become apparent later). After an embarrassed “uh, ok, that’s nice…” from his friend, and us, the sea of beards and plaid shirts drifts towards the doors, and we’re finally allowed in. 

The room is draughty, and feels a little like a church, with prints of famous musicians performing on the walls, in a similar manner to stained glass windows, and we’re all seated in very neat rows. Serengeti, the support, shuffles on stage, with a nervous air, he perches himself on the edge of a Westlife-esque stool. He welcomes us and introduces Doug, the pianist, because of course, this is not just any gig, it’s part of WHY’s acoustic grand piano tour. He tells us how his album was produced by WHY’s Yoni Wolf and Owen Ashworth of Casiotone for the Painfully Alone (now Advance Base), and begins.

His charismatic stage presence is magnified by a sense of uncertainty, fiddling with his mic, before standing again, clearly more comfortable when he’s able to move, and move he does. Swaying he sings the chorus of ‘PMDD’, with Doug on piano harmonising on Joey Fever’s part. Picking up a recorder he apparently “just bought in Berlin”, he manages to make it fit beautifully with the looped piano and vocals - either he’s been practicing or is one of those infuriating instantly musical people. With a wave he has us all echoing his shouts on ‘The Whip’ and then that’s it, laughing he says “I’ve got shit for sale over there…WHY Will be here soon” and wanders offstage.  

With slicked back hair, thick-rimmed glasses and a shirt buttoned up to the top, Yoni Wolf doesn’t look quite how you might expect. The band launch immediately into ‘These Few Presidents’, to much whooping from the crowd. There’s a masterful surge of dynamics, shrinking almost to nothing and then rising instantly when Yoni begins singing. He rubs his recently broken hand, with a recently broken finger (which led to the cancelling of their tour of America) and tells us they’re going to “play a bunch of new songs”, with a quick plug of their forthcoming album, and how it’s really “taken it out” of him. The first new track is darker and heavier than much of what they’ve done before, and it’s certainly piqued my excitement for the new album. Josiah Wolf is playing bass guitar and bass drum (with his feet), while a new member of WHY? Plays the high hat etc, she’s soon introduced as Liz Wolf, Josiah’s Wife (and musical partner). Laughing they thank Stephen Merchant for opening for them, and “wish him well”.

Yoni’s quick humour, always evident in their lyrics, is shown as he mutters out a joke about how Liz is allegedly “from Bristol” and does a passable British accent when he makes a pun about her maiden name, Hodson (“Hodson, as in what a hot son you have”). They also deal rather well with some half-hearted heckling, including calling one shouter “coward” and inviting him to come up to the stage and repeat himself, this is all done with a smile. Much to their surprise however, to the stage he does come, asking to shake hands with Yoni (oh and look, it’s the guy from earlier who told us about his friend’s new love). Yoni turns this into an elbow shake because of his broken hand - which still looks pretty swollen and his dancing is a little wooden at times because of it. They rush off stage after their final song, but after much cheering return for ‘On Rose Walk’. Two songs later and they finish, this time for good.

Frightened Rabbit - A Frightened Rabbit EP

Poster-boys of Scottish misery, Frightened Rabbit are renowned for their clever, dark and beautiful lyrics, as well as the roaring, swaying music that surrounds them. Having released an album a year, for the past four years (if you include the acoustic version of 'The Midnight Organ Fight'), you might think they'd want to take it easy for a bit, but this seems not to be the case.

Fresh from touring in support of Death Cab For Cutie, they're giving away a three-track EP, for free, and it's also available on limited edition 10" vinyl. If you're unsure whether this is one for you (unlikely as that is), track 2 'Fuck This Place', a heartbreaking duet with Tracyanne of Camera Obscura, has long been one of my favourite songs. Plus, if you read this article on DrownedInSound, you'll learn how it was inspired by a dream, which just seems to add that little bit more to its addictive sound (also follow that link to get your free download!)
If that's not enough Frightened Rabbit for you, have a search around, and give some of their live sessions (particularly the Bandstand Busking ones) a listen, the quality of their music is only more evident when stripped back.

Some Albums For However You May Be Feeling....

Stuck in a musical rut? Even the most musically minded of us sometimes feel like they've run out of stuff to listen to, and perhaps them even more so than others, with that in mind, I've selected some aural delights for you - tailored to the mood you might be in, and maybe even something you've not given a proper listen to before.

 

Now, this list is only six albums long, but I'm not suggesting that you've only got six possible options to feel. Well, you might do. It's not really any of my business. No, instead I've picked eight albums that have a tangible thematic link within them, so that rather than the perfect tear-jerker ending, and your ears being filled with major chords and tambourines, you can finish your weeping in peace. The same applies to other emotions obviously, but I'm assuming you're all the types that will empathise with misery more than anything else.

Everything's Getting Older - Bill Wells and Aidan Moffat

Joyous to melancholic:

As the title may suggest, this one is in part for those evenings sat at home (alone), with a glass of something, while you ponder on how "there's at least a hundred billion galaxies with a hundred billion stars, and every single one could be a sun just like ours...all life is finite, so use your time wisely" (as heard on 'The Greatest Story Ever Told'). However it's also got some truly beautiful and joyous moments, 'Tasogere' and 'Let's Stop Here' (mentioned as one, because of how closely they fit) are equal-parts euphoric and heart-wrenching.

Allo Darlin' - Allo Darlin' 

Not alone:

This one's for holding hands, smiling and wearing nice jumpers to. Seriously, it's almost unbearably cute, it teeters on the nauseatingly adorable, but tracks like 'Heartbeat Chilli' and 'Let's Go Swimming' just about brings things back, and you can almost hear the Polaroid sunsets, but maybe steer clear if you're feeling a little lonely.

Crystal Fighters - Star Of Love

Like dancing: 

There's dark, thudding bass on 'Solar System', as well as crashing drums and almost unbearably joyous choruses on 'At Home', all of which will make it nigh on impossible to listen to and stay still.

Picastro - Whore Luck 

Sleepy and a little sad:

Sinister, dark and eerie at times, this could also have fitted nicely into a wintry playlist, but with the lurching violin, on tracks like 'Hortur', and Liz Hysen's soft but cutting vocals, it's marked out as more than just your average morose listen. 

Death From Above 1979 - You're A Woman, I'm A Machine

Angry: 

Normally, a bad mood means Mclusky or Bikini Kill for me, but I decided to go with this DFA1979 record, because it's cleaner, catchier and deeply cathartic. 

Sam Cooke - The Best Of Sam Cooke

Everything else:

Whenever I'm unsure about what to put on, I invariably turn to this, and it's also great for background/dancing to when you've got people over - I'm yet to befriend anyone who doesn't enjoy it, even if they've not heard anything from him before. 

 (Look! I’ve put them all in a handy Spotify Playlist for you! Although they don’t have the correct ‘Best Of…’ for Sam Cooke, but the rest are all here)

Nicola Roberts - Cinderella's Eyes

This album has, admittedly been out for a while, and if I’d been more on the ball I’d have reviewed it sooner - but I forgot. That’s the thing; Nicola Roberts is often seen as the forgettable one of Girls Aloud, now personally, I don’t really care about any members of Girls Aloud. Or I didn’t, until I saw Nicola Roberts doing a documentary on the dangers of tanning for young people, she talked about how determined she became not to allow her record label and management to force her into fake tanning, and she now has her own make-up range for pale skin. Which is all pretty admirable, really and I promised myself I’d keep an eye on what she got up to, but somehow it never happened.

Then I heard ‘Beat Of My Drum’, it’s fun, instant and empowering, Roberts is standing up, telling people she’s in charge now. The video is sadly, not very good, but she’s doing her own thing, so we’ll let her off for that bizarre bending over dance move, and it certainly doesn’t seem to have caught on, which is something of a relief.

‘Cinderella’s Eyes’ is at the very least a good listen because it’s daring. It’s depressingly rare to come across an album that’s likely to chart, which does anything different, but if you listened to this abstractly, it certainly wouldn’t sound like Girls Aloud karaoke with only one member (unlike some people, naming no names…Cheryl Cole). In fact, the opening of ‘Fish Out Of Water’ is reminiscent of Xiu Xiu, it’s treading that beautiful line between great pop and plain weird, which if straddled successfully is often the most rewarding, listens. Although, I’m politely ignoring the cover of ‘Everybody Hurts Sometime’ because, well, it’s a bit rubbish.

 There’s a pervading sense of dark regret throughout, dark nights filled with drink, music and emptiness inside, she lists her fears on ‘i’, telling us she’s “scared of dying…scared of getting old” and “scared of bodies…scared I’ll lose control” and there’s something truly heartbreaking about the way she says “I don’t like nasty words, they hurt me like you’d never know”. She whispers “you’re my childhood sweetheart the one I’ve chased for years”, which sounds lovely until the chilling next line, “feels like you’ve got your hands locked over my lips and ears”. The painfully honest confession, ‘sticks + stones’, with its references to underage drinking, “too young to buy my own bottle of vodka so I beg the driver” and mental health issues “say no to the shrink I can fix me I think, I’ve got friends in my head” never once feels smug. Even though she’s talking about the downsides of famous so young, which such subject matter often leads to, instead it feels truly honest.

The artwork shows Roberts sitting on top of a pile of junk, a surreal Alice in Wonderland, but for all her porcelain skin, and doll like hair, she isn’t taking any nonsense. The idea of her being in a fairytale that turned bad, is clear, she used to “write all her dreams in her storybook”, according to a daring and successful rap on ‘Take A Bite’, but she’s taken this idea and turned it around to her benefit. Which is pretty much what she’s done with all that’s happened to her. How do I know that? How do I know ‘what’s happened to her’? Well I don’t, I haven’t read it in any magazines or anything like that, but that’s the picture ‘Cinderella Builds” and frankly, the potential of an honest, heartbreaking, and frankly, shockingly dark pop album, that really tells a story, is not something I want to explain away. For all the open confessions, I’m not left pitying her, because she comes across strong. It may not be to everyone’s tastes, but then very few things are, and the fact she’s done something different, begins to restore my faith in pop music.