Melt! Festival: Ferropolis, Germany

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.
Situated in Ferropolis, a complex created from an old quarry complete with a man-made lake and towering excavators, outside Dessau, an hour from Berlin, there’s plenty going for this cheap, large, three-day event.
Largely centred upon the more funky side of electronica - your Erol Alkan, Diplo, Digitalism type acts – there is a good diversity in terms of music, if not food where sausage dominates to a degree never before seen, even the usual dog burger is a rarity. Day one kicks off with some scepticism, Foals and Metronomy proving big name pull outs but ShadowPlay checks out the tenacious La Roux, full of spirit and, more crucially, tunes. Elsewhere, Aphex Twin (pictured below), making a rare live appearance, arrives onstage in the giant concrete bowl which mascerades as a main stage, to put in an hour of glitches, churning fun and a performance to set your teeth on edge – legend. Simian Mobile Disco and MSTRKRFT also prove popular before the torrential rain cut proceedings short at a mere 5am with a soggy Melt! going to bed cold but happy. The switch up in set times, compared to the more reserved, license-bound, UK festivals is notable. Here, the music doesn’t start until 7pm, meaning peak sets are 1-4am, and the freezing nights and wankers-shouting-fueled late night anger of festival camping are replaced by a serene knackeredness which both breaks and energises those in attendance.

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.
A truly international festival, Melt! is a gem of an event, full of fun, intrigue and individuality, it’s well worth a flight out. Next year promises to be even better, with the event looking to expand even further size and acts-wise. Pack your muddy dancing shoes in anticipation.

Hop Farm Festival, Kent

The idea of this festival is right up our street – no branding, no sponsorship – a great idea perhaps surprisingly brought about by former Meanfiddler magnate Vince Power who has evidently tired of the corporate, fan-fucking events he used to arrange in favour of, well, peace and love. And, true to its word, this is no Reading & Leeds, thankfully, thus we get an weird and wonderful array of food, celebrity 5-a-side football and the illustriously named Main, Dance and Third stages. At a moderate size and with nice, booming soundsystems, there’s a lot to like about this fest, which takes place near Paddock Wood in the heart of commuter-belt, London accessible society. The line-up, as last year when Neil Young led the line, is led by an old geezer in the form of Paul Weller who draws in a laughably large amount of over-sideburned, sunglasses-wearing middle-aged men. Elsewhere, the line-up is a bit stodgy with the Fratellis, Pigeon Detectives and The View offering a pretty pathetic threesome on the Saturday.

But the Sunday bolsters things with a Ladyhawke putting in a stellar performance and getting the crowd dancing and bellowing in front of the main stage. In the dingy third stage tent, first Fight Like Apes, and then Danananakroyd, offer bolshy brilliance in abundance. Fight Like Apes snarl and shout at the adoring crowd (while giving them a cheeky smile) and bashing out the likes of Jake Summers from their incredible debut while Danananakroyd throw themselves around a lot, shout a lot, cover up a ten minute technical hitch by playing Grange Hill and Hollyoaks theme tunes, and shout their way off stage. Overall, the festival lacks a little strength in depth, there was little genuine choice and the few surprise delights offered by unknowns, such as Synth Eastwood who offered a parade of delights to a ‘super chilled’ zonked out dance tent mid-afternoon, were a little too rare. A good festival, well organised with great intentions, just a few more top-quality acts please.

Fists: Cockatoo/Skit (Hello Thor)

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.
Released on a label rumoured to be run by the charity shop vinyl-addicted spirits of Buddy Holly and various bearded sea monsters, the record bleeds passion, a sense of assurance and the ability to pull off wearing a flat cap in style.

Cockatoo kicks off with a fairground waltzer into before singer Angi Fletcher kicks into a vocal with flecks of Kim Deal and the ability to perfectly reflect the off-kilter, staccato rhythms of the song. Flipside Skit sees James Finlay take up the vocal reigns over a hypnotic, driving bassline. The band have received some excellent coverage from Steve Lamacq, our friends over at Stool Pigeon and the BBC’s Glastonbury coverage, and good luck to em.

Tru Thoughts Recordings – Shapes 09:01 and other offerings

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.

The Wave Pictures: Live & On Wax

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.

On new record, If You Leave It Alone, the prolific trio step up their style a little, opting for their high tempos and cheeky guitar solos more often than not. The title track opens the album with vigour and finesse, setting the listener up for the bizarre and meticulous imagery to come, elsewhere Your Bed Hung off the Wall and Too Many Questions also display the kind of harmonising that sounds like the Beach Boys if they’d put down the Beano and picked up Razzle. Live, they’re such a perfect proposition, full of self-effacing modesty, but also a cheeky confidence borne from hundreds of shows to increasing adoration and success. At the Lexington last month the band show off material from the new album, already know to much of the hardcore audience in attendance at the fantastically booze north London pub. Choruses, and more importantly certain marmalade-y verses, are bellowed back, pins are dropped and heard when silence is needed and, most importantly, the Wave Pictures are treated as the treasures they so clearly are.

Homelovin' zine returns

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: Live at the Electric Ballroom

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.

Tonight, Wolf is preceded by Yacht – a daunting, clever, strange and frustrating band from Portland. Jona Bechtolt and Claire Evans make up the two piece which spent the entire set leaping up and down, enjoying impressively choreographed dance moves and shouting down their white microphones. In possession of, realistically, no more than three decent tunes Yacht go for the jugular, encouraging audience participation, constantly asking questions – there’s no way this was just an exercising in waiting for the main act with a presence in front of you. The force an opinion, one way or the other, and for this audience member it was nice attitude, live drummer please and learn to sing in tune.

Wolf himself enters the stage to an atmosphere not unlike that which a boyband might meet. Screaming girls jossle for position, men in gold sequined trousers (yes) vie to be seen by the figure in the middle of the stage dressed in a cape, jump suit and sporting what can only be termed a ‘Britney-mike’. The handsfree device causes Wolf problems throughout the set, constantly slipping but does not affect the sound and allows him to express himself in his unique, ostentatious manner. Rattle through hits from his most popular third record, The Magic Position and new album, The Bachelor out today that day on new label Bloody Chamber Music.

If Wolf is scarred by the inferences and jibes that have been made about his vast redirection in music (when first ShadowPlay reviewed him he was a lang-haired shy type who spoke through his stark violin) and bisexuality then he shrugs it off well. He mentions the media a couple of times and touchingly dedicates the rip-roaring set closer The Magic Position to ex-girlfriend Ingrid who used to live above the Camden Underworld just a few yards away from tonight’s venue, but he comes across as someone more than happy in their own skin and persona. Climbing up ladders, attacking his piano, praising his band (which includes Electric Soft Parade and Brakes guitarist Tom White sporting a dubious ‘tache) and gentle playing the dulcimer bathed in a spotlight Wolf is a multi-faceted, multi-talented chameleonic musical superstar of the type that Bolan or Bowie would be and are undoubtedly proud of. We’ll even forgive him for using the word ‘showbiz’.

Put a Donk on it...

Le Donk, an improvised comedy shot over five days by Shane Meadows in cahoots with Paddy Considine, is set to have its world premiere at the Edinburgh International Film Festival on June 23rd. The following day Shane Meadows and producer Mark Herbert will give a talk about their new five day feature programme.
Rock roadie and failed musician, Le Donk (Considine) has lived, loved and learned. Along the way he’s lost a girlfriend (Olivia Colman) and his life has turned to shit. But, he has found a new sidekick in up-and-coming Nottingham rap prodigy Scor-zay-zee (playing himself). With Meadows’ fly-on-the-wall crew in tow, Donk sets out to make Scor-zay-zee (and himself) a star…with a little help from the Arctic Monkeys… This low-budget rockumentary follows Le Donk and Scorz on their journey of a lifetime; it’s an unpredictable, irrepressible ode to spontaneous filmmaking – and to a burgeoning UK hip-hop talent.

"After taking two life sapping years to make This is England, I decided it was time to get back to my roots as a Guerilla Filmmaker. So me, Mark and our miniscule team decided to stick two fingers up to the establishment and make a film with our own money in only five days. Oh yeah, and we had to somehow get 50,000 people in our final scene for free," said Meadows.

Le Donk is the first in the 5 Day Features series created by Shane Meadows and Mark Herbert and released by Warp Films. Hurrah for Nottingham and Sheffield talent as ever...

London Zine Symposium: May 09

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.

From the moment you enter the tight, sweaty venue you can’t help but be inspired. The sheer volume of the zines, imported (and there are issues from all over Europe and beyond) or otherwise, is quite astonishing with some exhibitors carrying as many as 100 titles it seems.
Some personal highlights were the thick little blue bueaty which is Shebang zine, a new un to the zine from the South West, covering loadsa of ShadowPlay-faves in an intricate, personal style. Beat Motel was there in force also, with the excellent latest issue spearheading a stall featuring plenty of US and Australian zines, some of the You letters and some prison writings. Dead Trees and Dye (http://www.deadtreesanddye.com/) distro carry some great stuff, largely of the arty variety and now some ShadowPlay issues so snap em up. Ricochet Richochet also offer up some excitement of the punky variety with the Anarchists Teapot supplying some tasty cakes too.

With all these things there’s an element of nervous embarrassment, wanting to buy zines from everyone just because I know how crap it can feel for people to look at your zine, and then seemingly reject it by returning it to its spot. But it’s totally worth it to chat to the great people you meet, reads some offbeat thoughts and ultimately open your mind to things that are different, but not necessarily worse (or better) than mainstream coverage. What is prevalent that I’m writing about this on a blog, but I would stress that it’s a matter of ease rather than preference and the paper issue of ShadowPlay will always be my main focus because it is the passion in printing and crafting, shared by everyone in that room, that remains the driving force. It does bring me to one small gripe which is prices. To me, no zine is worth more than a couple of quid. It’s always about covering printing costs of course but this rarely supersedes that price and, like independent record labels, if you’re in it to make cash, don’t bother. I’m not saying people were being greedy capitalists but to me a pile of unsold zines at five quid looks more pathetic than the one scruffy 50p one left in a pile of snapped up issues. Overall a fantastic event, some incredible people and unashamed inspiration for zinesters everywhere.

Marrisa Nadler: Live at the Luminaire

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.