News, reviews, thoughts and views from the world of London-based fanzine ShadowPlay and beyond.
Had an interesting email through from old ShadowPlay friend and hip-hop fiend MC Lars, if you can help him out, get in touch...Hey everyone,
As I'm sure many of you know, a song on my new record TWENTY-THREE details the life and tragic death of a best friend and Stanford roommate, Patrick Wood. You can read more about him on his blog. He was a brilliant friend who battled with depression and took his life in Berlin in early 2006:
http://patrickwood.blogspot.com/
We are making a video for this song, as it is the next single off of THIS GIGANTIC ROBOT KILLS.
To make this video be effective and raise awareness, we NEED YOUR HELP!
If you have any friends or family members who know or who have lost anyone to suicide, please get in touch with us. We want to feature photos of loved ones who have taken their own lives. The goal of this video is to help raise awareness that this is an issue that affects us all, and pay our respects to those who have passed on. One of the things that helps me get through losing Pat is having a song about him to sing and listen to. I hope that you will share this with me if you have gone through anything similar.
Please hit me up at - horrisrecords@gmail.com with photos and stories if you have friends who haven taken their own lives.
Thank you for all of your help! Together we can help raise awareness and help prevent suicide. We are talking to non-profit organizations to have some promotional support and help change the world together.
Much love and Happy Holidays.
MC Lars
mclars.com
P.S. Just on a legal side-note - we will need signed waivers, so before you get in touch with us with photos of your friends, please hit up your friends' families first. We know this is a sensitive issue and just want to make sure everyone's on board.
BBC Two has confirmed its weird, incestuous comedy Psychoville will return for a one-off special programme to be shown next year, and a new, six-part second series will follow.
The re-emergence of Anti-Pop Consortium has been one of the undisputed triumphs of the CBRA (Continual Bands Reforming Age) as the stream of consciousness hip-hop merchants delve back into the world of collective creativity. Individually, there were signs of brilliance. Since their split in 2002, Beans has been perhaps the most successful, releasing four generally well-received efforts while High Priest and M. Sayyid as Airborn Audio plied their trade on Ninja Tune but didn’t follow-up debut Good Fortune on the label.
So their reformation, in August 2007 – five years after the barn-storming Arrhythmia – was welcomed by band’n’fans alike. Two years on and the first release from this second phase, new record Flourescent Black, shows excellent, witty signs of a return of a hip-hop act who can genuinely refer to themselves as ‘fresh’. Full of the quirky, intelligent discharge that made oft inaccessible beats irrelevant with a flow sharper than a nerd’s pencil always in charge of each tune.
In London, the New York foursome show their classic vigour. Facing inwards towards a desk, concentrating on their collective whole rather than individual style, predictably white crowd and APC-alike know this is about the music rather than the style. A year earlier at Sonar in Barcelona, ShadowPlay say this as a sign of an act still getting back on their feet, now it looks like pure, brilliant arrogance. Beans does turn ringmaster on a couple of occasions, the glib Apparently initiates the biggest roar of the night while Born Electric, also from the new record, sees them change pace and take a slower, more considered approach as they intone “can’t take my powers”.
There’s little doubt APC offer a refreshing antidote to the bling, overly smooth side of American hip-hop, what’s more impressive is that they do it while remaining out of the more nerdy fringes of it, maintaining their calm coolness and a rare hip-hop characteristic: integrity. Viva la reformation.
Kids can’t sing. People who enter Eurovision generally can’t sing (Gina G, I apologise…). So here’s a perfect match. This “popumentary” follows a number of kids vying for the title of winner of Junior Eurovision 2007. Pitched at an interesting level, this neither takes the piss out of Eurovision in a Wogan-esque way, nor takes it as seriously as it clearly is by many of the “smaller” countries around the continent.
First off, this seemed the wrong approach to take, afterall what dramatic interest are a bunch of kids singing going to provide if it’s not comedy. But actually this film connects on a real emotional level as the viewer feels complete empathy with the junior contestants, some of which seem to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders.
Perhaps the best example of this is Mariam, a 13-year-old Georgian who goes to the competition without her mother, who lives in a ramshackle tower block and vows to take tranquilisers before her daughter’s performance. Given free fruit and blessings on the street, Mariam carries the hopes of her country on her shoulders and stars in the live final, which receives no less than 23 million viewers before being caught up in the Russian offensive which took place in summer 2008.
There’s also plenty to laugh at though, perhaps the deadpan Belgian commentator who says “they are not singing very good” of three Dalton Sisters aged no more than nine or Belgian finalists Trust who have had a street in their native town of Ypres named after them, such is the measure of their success.
This documentary gave a real insight, perhaps for the first time for, as to just why people from so many, realistically, fairly unremarkable countries get so worked up by Eurovision. With over 14,000 entrants vying for the Rotterdam final it’s clear the stakes are high for a competition which says as much about fragmented European politics as it does about mini-camp entertainment. An interesting documentary, a DVD in front of the fire watch for sure.
Those glorious people over at Tru Thoughts have cooked up a storm for the autumn period, celebrating 10 years of the label that has boasted the kind of cutting edge music, in Quantic, TM Juke and the Bamboos in particular, that has marked it out as a forerunner in the UK funk and soul scene.
Earlier this month it hosted an excellent, hot and sticky night at Vibe Bar on Brick Lane, London where Alice Russell and Belleruche in particular gave the night the kind of swagger only 10 years of hard work and good times can bring. The label’s three disc anniversary release is a triumph in displaying the diversity and quality of the label. Thus the usual faces are joined by the likes of Kinny, Kylie Audist and Nirobi & Barakas. The main theme is of a label firmly focussed on taking life at its own pace, grab hold of it and saying “look, I’m gunna relax for a minute, ok?”
Elsewhere on the label, Natural Self releases his second album My Heart Beats Like a Drum next month, full of the kind of minimal chirpiness that will see him open up top-end nights aplenty I suspect. Meanwhile, Domu, aka Dominic Stanton, has released a collection of One Offs, Remixes and B Sides but it does feel a little like that, not exactly rjects but not top-cuts, also his choice of vocalists seems a little dubious, some dodgy vocals/lyrics here. Overall, Tru Thoughts spoil their listeners beyond belief, a label of true class and style will leave you far from hiding under the Munka Moon. (AL)
Kid606, aka Venezulan electronica supremo Miguel Trost Depedro, is one of those artists who, when on top form, is really on top form. The riviera kid has bust through the speed of sound on many previous occasions, with rip-roaring efforts like Don't Sweat the Technics and Kill Sound Before Sound Kills You marking him out as a real talent, if a little prone to the odd random mix too many.
“There is no bank on Wall Street that belonged to me..” croons Blind Blake, aka Matthew Town, the legendary singer from the Bahamas who was born in 1915 and carved out an illustrious if a little under-recognised career from the 30s through to the 60s. As the leader of the house band at the Royal Victoria Hotel in Nassau in the Bahamas his music combines the glory of ragtime blues, island classics and American pop with some quite forward-thinking jazz elements. Listening to Bahamian Songs is one of those truly positive experiences that can change an mood and get even the clumsiest of toes twinkling. Credit must also been given to the technical elements of this record which, on CD, sounds crystal clear and surprisingly for a record from the early 50s has very little hiss and crackle (not always a good thing I hasten to add but a pleasure here). Highlights include the effortless fun Yes, Yes, Yes, his particularly familiar John B Sail (sloop would be proud) and My Pigeon Got Wild show the skill the man had on his banjo, ukulele or six-string to create a rhythm and style that would entertain contemporary audiences and generations to come. A must have if you like both music and smiling.
ShadowPlay teams up with Teddy Bones, aka long-time SP contributor and fiend on the ones and twos, Tom Bonnett (pictured right) for an early precursor to a long-time partnership. This episode we introduce top monthly Stoke Newington night Broken Yolk, conducting some pointed ramblings about music consumption (including the mysteries of spotify) and featuring some aural delights in the form of Lord Tanamo, Acoustic Ladyland and a certain familiar reggae face.
Stream, subscribe or download it here: http://shadowplayboys.podbean.com
More info: http://www.myspace.com/brokenyolkuk
Get in touch: shadowplayfanzine@hotmail.com
Nottingham lads Neil "Nail" Tolliday and Simon Mills will always have a special place in ShadowPlay hearts not only for their origins in the fair Midlands but also for their debut, Programmed to Love, which was probably the best record the city has produced and certainly the most impressive in the field of cleverly-worked electronica. Accomplished DJs and superb musicians, Bent are due a Best Of and, having always kept a fairly low-key profile, it is nicely packaged as an introduction to the duo. Far from a flung together collection of their tunes, there’s a flow and control over this record which belies its status as a compilation – spreading the band’s work across two CDs.
The seven new songs here also serve to remind listeners that Bent are still fresh, coming up with a number of up-tempo, quite guitar led tunes to intersperse old favourites. But, in the end, long time listeners will enjoy a reprisal, Private Life and Magic Love still causing a tingle. Bent are a band who have often been under appreciated, their legacy starts here.
Astonishing discoveries are one of the things that makes life interesting: finding out what that button on the remote does, what colours food can turn if you leave it long enough and what that thing does you’ve been puzzled about for the earlier part of your life. Melt! is one such discovery. Now in its twelfth year, locals on the site tell me its profile has lifted considerably in the last couple of years with bigger brands, and bigger name acts, drawing the attention of a truly international audience.
The second day continues in a similar vein, Diplo and Boyz Noise put in masterful displays on the ones and twos, the artificial builders merchant sand of the man-made beach adding to the Brazilian DJs best-bits set while searchlights add to the effect, sat atop the humungous cranes. Digitalism also impress, proving more than just bleep-pop also-rans as they dominate main stage activities. The final day is an odd affair, opposite to the previous days, the music starts relatively early with many people descending for the day, doubtless drawn in by Oasis’ name at the top of the bill. Patrick Wolf delivers an impressive display, his stocks (which do in fact exist, he’s backed by Band Stocks) rise as he poses, pounces and prances around the stage in giant black wigs and backed by his increasingly glorious catalogue of pop songs. Various DJs continue to capture the weekend’s spirit, everyone still in seemingly good mood as the only sun of the festival appears. Oasis, for their part, put in an excellent, strangely professional and incongruous display. Along with the usual jibes about Manchester and laddish stuff, Gallagher junior shouts something about playing at Legoland and the band deliver a tight, wide-ranging and ultimately satisfying set. Devoid of the crap that has made going to see them in the UK an unappetising prospect – the piss throwing, chav presence, massive waits to get a spot – this was the best place to see an ace who are, realistically, still capable of putting on a great, enjoyable show. Even if it does involve lots of loud, shouty Swedish blokes.
Fists have been blazing a trail across every dirty pub, middle class arts café and delirious DIY gig in Nottingham for some years now. But the (now) five-piece finally come to release the record the quirky, indie public of Nottingham has been waiting for.
This latest offering from the frankly pioneering jazzy funk label Tru Thoughts is almost too cool for school. Shapes featuring the likes of Quantic, Nostalgia 77 and Bonobo this collection is an earwatering array of aural delights taking a laid back approach to blowing the listener away. Starting off solidly with some soul diva type musings in the shape of The Bamboos, it’s really in the drifting offerings of the Unforescene (with the glorious Phil King, not the ginger ex-Wednesday player though), the shimmering Jint with Laura Vane offering beautiful vocals and Felvans whose tune, Mad Perks, that some serious talent is on show. A label this good shouldn’t rightfully exist, but we’re damn happy it does.
Elsewhere on the Tru Thoughts, Kylie Auldist offers an interesting proposition in old style funk on her new record Made of Stone but her vocal is a little staid and too strong to be enjoyable at times and some nice brassy backing is slightly marred by her dominance across every song. At the other end of the scale, displaying the label’s diversity, Lizzy Parks releases Phonica (one of London’s finest magical musical outlets) favourite This and That, a folksome effort full of faraway stares and breathless vocals. Sparse at times Parks has the personality to carry an album which could easily drift by and, despite lacking rhythm at times, it’s an accomplished and promising second album from Parks.
And, to round it off, the label has released a summer special in the form of a covers album. Thus Alice Russell finally puts her Seven Nation Army cover to wax in astounding style, Quantic Soul Orchestra cover 4Hero and mix Mr Scruff classic Get a Move On; Jumbonics funk up the Strokes’ Last Nite hilariously and Nostalgia 77 forget about Dre in a cover of Eminem’s My Name Is… - it’s as funny as it is enjoyable, clever and a sign of label who can do no wrong it seems.
A real unique edge is hard to come by in UK guitar music at the moment, one you can grasp on to, live or at home, straight away is even rarer. But the Wave Pictures, who will be as familiar as a pair of old Midlands-made slippers to long-time ShadowPlay readers, have that direct quality which can be latched onto within seconds. Perhaps it’s lead singer David Tattersall’s ever lilting vocal, or maybe his off-the-cuff lyrics (I cut my hair and you grew yours/there always has to be the same amount of hair in the world) are the key, but it’s as likely to be Franic’s basslines or the ever-impressive supporting vocal from drummer Jonny Helm are the irresistible element.
ShadowPlay has a few long-term friends it likes to cross paths with, share staples and generally be traded for in the kind of free trade, papery agreement which would put the Doha round to shame.
Homelovin’, the decade-old brainchild of Amsterdam-dwelling Lancastrian artist Paul Haworth, is one such companion.
Paul has long written about offbeat music in a quirky style, usually in capitals. The tenth issue continues in the same rich vein musings on Kevin Rowland, Bruce Springsteen, the Replacements, the Music Tapes, Freddie Mercury, American Music Club, Josh T. Pearson, an essay by Bunny Poe, and a few drawings to accompany them.
Homelovin’ hasn’t changed much over the years: folded A4 pages, stapled together, a sky-blue cover, type-written, Paul talking about the records he's been listening to, shows he's seen and some of the unfinished thoughts that these have inspired.
The zine is personal, engaging, human –what fanzines are good for really – and in the writing it wishes to celebrate great artists who have put wonderful things into the world.
If you would like a copy it's €4/£3 + postage and you can pay through PayPal or bank transfer. For more details write to homelovinpaul@hotmail.com
Patrick Wolf is the opposite of an enigma. Someone who has given his all to his music and putting his vivacious personality across and has been stung, labelled and misunderstood. He does split opinion but, from the opinion of someone who has always followed his music with admiration and largely ignored the comments Wolf tonight dubs ‘jealous’, there can be little doubt over the man’s talent as a musician and a lyricist.
This event has managed to elude me for reasons of music, travelling and, erm, Owls matches for quite a few years now so it was a pleasure, last week, to trundle along to The Rag Factory off Brick Lane for the biggest zine gathering (read, slightly nerdy but fun) in the UK of the year.It’s always worth the trip up to Kilburn to the charming Luminaire with its ‘sshhh, we didn’t come to hear you talk to your mates’ type signs and canny nack of snapping up the kinda mid-sized acts with enough of a name and plenty of intrigue to draw in plenty of punters.
Marissa Nadler is one such. Since she released her third album, Songs III: Bird on the Water, in 2007 her name has slow crept through folky-fingertips worldwide an, as the ethereal Nadler takes the stage it’s easy to see why. An instantly likeable character Nadler promptly commands the attention of the entire audience, putting them in instant silence, something they stay in – trance like for the rest of the set.
Playing largely from Bird... and her new album Little Hells the songs are undulating and interesting. Kicking off with Diamond Heart, sinking into her voice like pebble into sinking sand, and continuing to offer the kind of soaring, heartfelt saddened-tinged vocal that is so easy to get wrong but Nadler nails spot on. She’s not afraid have a little fun too have a ‘covers time’ featuring Neil Young’s hit Lonesome Me, which she adds a new, even more plaintive angle too. Marissa Nadler is incredible talented, sings beautiful songs and, unfortunately for us, won’t be playing venues of the Luminaire’s size forever.
If you’ve read ShadowPlay for any amount of time you’ll be fully aware who, and what, MJ Hibbett is – for some the funniest guy in indie music who tells it like it is, for others, I’ve been told, he comes across as smug and judging. Evidently I agree with the former so it’s a pleasure to see the man from Peterborough/Leicester return with a new studio album, Regardez, Ecoutez et Repetez which commits to record some of the tunes he’s been touring for the last year or two.
ShadowPlay’s first encounter with Miranda Lee Richards was a couple of years ago, strangely supporting feedback-laden lords of darkness and general rabble The Warlocks in as incongruous a billing as you’re likely to discover in the glamorous world of Nottingham. But from that day to this MLR has continued to unveil her voice as a thing of true beauty, possessing the kind of wistful country beauty that has propelled Gillian Welch and Lucinda Williams into a mature yet impressive stages of their respective careers.
Fujiya & Miyagi have always been an understated band, whistling by, collecting fans like a snowball on a slowly declining hill – one flake at a time. But this gig at the ever-busy Cargo brought this element to new heights as the band displayed some of the tunes from their third album, Lightbulbs, released last September to their London fans.
As an outsider in London sometimes I forget quite how diverse its population is, which I know the majority of people are and that’s kinda the point. What I hadn’t really thought about is the subsequent affect on the city’s music scene which can happily host a two-day festival of French music at Cargo with an enraptured and good-sized audience in attendance.
Titi Robin kick-off in the opening night in the shape of an accordion player, Titi Robin himself playing every string from mandolin to guitar, and his ab-fab drummer. The ponytailed percussionist spends the hour-long set thumping the box he’s sitting on, attacking the skins with his elbows, kneading the bongos – it feels like a struggle and a fight with the instrument but sounds like the opposite. It’s a sight to behold and one that is only distracted from by the perfect interplay between the gypsy-ish twinges of the guitar and accordion’s mini-duel (literally, at one point they mimics each other’s tones and try to better them).
Enter singer Maria into the fray, full of evangelical charm (she crosses herself on alighting the stage), imploring the listener (unfortunately ShadowPlay is in the ten per cent in attendance who do not understand her words) and dancing. But not just swaying, it’s stylised, full speed and, as she chases her hands across the stage back and forth, undeniably Indian-influenced. An unexpected wonder.
Soha may already be known to you. Savvy, chique, sexy and soulful she’s a PR man’s dream, her sultry tones offering nothing if not passion, verve and, most importantly, a versatility that’s astonishing. One minute she’s relaxing into her smooth tones, pulling the audience, literally, forward with her brown eyes. The next she’s skanking, full of reggae empowerment, putting hands in the air and shouting “the show is for you, enjoy”. An incredible spectacle that breaks far beyond the clumsy, patronising term of ‘world music’ which I doubt will be shaken off for some years to come. Luckily, neither will Soha.
Anyway, I don’t usually do this, but don’t just take my words for it listen here.
You can thank me later…
The audience rise as one as Psapp arrive on stage at Cargo, a venue which has long been a bastion for cutting edge music across all genres. And, despite the fact it’s largely because they have been mellow-ly, attentively waiting sat cross-legged on the concrete floor, you get the feeling Psapp have a standing ovation awaiting them from the start. Rarely does an act evoke such pure good feeling, without tipping over into anything sickly sweet, so instantly.