No NAF today, cos I didn’t get out at lunchtime. But that’s okay because it allows me to drop in quick plug for a band I discovered via Chris Roberson’s twitter feed.
They’re called Pomplamoose, they’re from California and when I get home I’m going to buy everything they’ve recorded for $9.
It’s not just the songs. Which are excellent.
But I’m kinda hooked on the videos too.
Categories: Bands · Music
Tagged: Pomplamoose
One of my favourite things to do over the last few years, of a spare evening, say, is amble down for a few hours of the unexpected and the entertaining at Club Tromolo. Tromolo’s pretty much a unique combination of music, performance and comedy. Many’s the night I have [almost] LITERALLY weed myself at the shenanigans played out in front of me. I remember the first time I saw The Flying Frumpingtons, I near enough coughed up a spleen. If you think variety’s coming back in vogue now, these were the guys that were among the first to foist it up on us.
And now all of Scotland is getting a taste of what Glasgow’s been hoarding for itself. Tromolo is going on tour, and I recommend it to everyone with a sense of humour the length and breadth of the land. Hosted by Frank Percy (MBE) and his lovely wife Doreen, acts include the bitterly funny songs of Kosmic Colin, the baffling regalements of eccentric toff millionaire Sir Clifton Sainsbury, the charming delights of the world-famous Miss Leggy Pee, one of my own personal heroes – Jazzbadger (a badger who plays jazz) and the gnomic predictions of the Govan Seer. And all of that is topped of by a nightly set by A Band Called Quinn who will be playing songs from their new album Sun, Moon, Stars.
The whole thing kicks off in Glasgow’s Classic Grand on Wednesday the 9th of April. I’ll hobbling down there after football, and thereafter laughing my ache, pains and disappointments away.
Who’s with me?
A word in passing about a great Glasgow institution.
Last night’s End Of The Month Club was just full of good things. For those of you new to this blog, EOTMC is a monthly club night in the 13th Note that celebrates those that have left us during the month via the medium of electro music and video mash-ups, and occasionally games.
This month’s highlights.
In memory of Gary Gygax – the usual EOTMC catharsis sheet (whereupon you get to expunge the good and bad that happened in the preceding 30-odd days from your system) was supplanted by a character sheet for a topical role playing game: Basements And Bandmates. Your character could be any of a number of the musical types or associated hangers-on that must be familiar to any who visit the Note with any regularity and his skills could include a range of attributes, including drunkenness, shaggability and fighting ability. A suspicious amount of work had gone into it, but sadly the live role-playing session using these characters later on had to be axed due to lack of time.
In memory of Captain Birdseye – a really suspicious wee song called “Fishy Fingers” played over the old adverts. Dodgy.
In memory of Anthony Minghella – a beautiful mash-up of Another Brick In The Wall with the Grange Hill theme. Did you know he directed GH back in the day? There you go.
And in memory of Arthur C Clarke – so much good stuff, including some really creaky looking clips of Mysterious World, the “early man learns tool-use” scene in 2001 to tune of Phil Collins’ “In The Air Tonight” (you know like the ad with the gorilla), and the conversation between Dave and Hal, when Dave first realises Hal’s gone a little bit strange – but with Hal’s bits replaced by Papa Lazarou.
“Hal?”
“Hello Daaaave?”
“Hal?”
“Daaave? Is that you Daaave?”
“What’s going on Hal?”
“Oh, your myyyy wiiiife nooooow.”
You get the idea.
And they still found time for the return of Thriftshop XL and a couple of bands (the laid back Leigh Myles and the totally not laid back LUX).
Still the best night out for “4 squidlies” (their words not mine) in town.
Creeping out of winter hibernation this week to actually go out and do some performing, if anyone fancies an evening’s entertainment, here’s a couple of suggestions:
Monday 4th – Spangled Cabaret launch, an evening of variety, burlesque, puppetry, and a whole bunch else, featuring: Rufus T.Farenheit & Lucille Burn/Miss Leggy Pee/Daiquiri Dusk/Markee/Little Red Fairy/Nicola Siix/Vendetta Vain/Louise McVey + Many more.
I’m not doing anything for this, but Miss Leggy Pee is, and that should be enough!
Spangled Cabaret, Cafe Rio, Hyndland St, 9pm-11pm, free entry.
Wednesday 6th – WordDogs : Them and Us, an evening of spoken word stuff readings and beer on the theme of division, difference and understanding the other. There’s some really good material lined up for this one. Staring down the mic this time will be: Richard Mosses, Phil Raines, Martin Belk, Ian Hunter, Mark Harding, Neil Williamson, Hal Duncan and Gavin Inglis.
WordDogs : Them and Us – Downstairs, 13th Note Cafe, King St, Glasgow, from 730pm. Cost, not sure, but probably only a couple of quid.
Saturday 9th – Murnie + The Fusiliers + Laura Healy at Maggie May’s (which has apparently just won Theme magazine’s Best Live Music Venue award for 2007). Laura Healy’s an interesting artist – she sings with the fabulous Colette McKendrick, but I caught her with her own band at Boudica’s Ball last year and really enjoyed both the performance and the EP I picked up. As for Murnie, this is the band’s first outing of the year and we’ve got a really upbeat set prepared, so if you fancy a bit of a bounce come down on Saturday night. Mr Q will be delighted to see you.
Maggie May’s, Trongate, 800pm, £5/£3
Categories: Bands · Gigs · Murnie · Readings · Spoken Word
The scene : Bar Miso
The time : Thursday 7th September
The action : Shrimp Bento box, Kirin beer … and the marvelous musical antics of Scunner.
Proper bo.
Categories: Bands
Saturday night was spent in the most marvelous celebration of the music of Mr Joe Kane. A grand night out, featuring the magic of Kevin Price, the glamorous fun of Miss Leggy Pee and the rambunctious music of The Plimptons all leading up to a cracking performance by Joe’s band, Idiots Against Time, showcasing the songs from Joe’s new album, Only Joe Kane.
Go seek it out.
Do it!
One of the joys of being into music and living in a town like Glasgow is that it’s perfectly possible to have a new favourite band on almost a weekly basis.
For me, my New Favourite Bands Of The Week have recently included:
The Yellow Bentines (at Maggie May’s)
The Decemberists (played on Pulse FM immediately preceding our session)
Maxi Geil! And Playcolt (at Club Tromolo)
The Twisted Melons (on the same bill as us at Maggie May’s)
And the latest in this somewhat eclectic array of musical talent is the absolutely superb Injuns. Originally from Skye, this lot have been around Glasgow for a wee while now, but it’s one thing hearing good things about a band and quite another bothering your arse to get out and see them play. There’s a certain inertia about getting folk out of the house on a Wednesday night (what is it? Cash? Schoolnight inhibitions? Heroes on BBC2?) . Me, I love getting out to see new bands. They might not all be great, and there’ll be the occasional stinker that will at least make an amusing story to regale your friends with down the pub, but there’s plenty to get excited about too. There’s nothing like watching a band you know naff all about taking the stage, picking up their guitars and getting your toes tapping by the end of the first song, getting you singing along to songs whose lyrics you can’t possibly know by the end of the third, and get you biting their hand off for a CD at the end of their set. And not being disappointed when you stick in on the next day. Indeed, with each listen through, enjoying it more.
How often does that happen? For me, lately, more often than you might think, given the sheer quantity of bands and venues in Glasgow these days. And that’s partly due to the sterling efforts of Mr Nick and his team who put on Square Go! at Maggie May’s down in Trongate – which indeed was where Injuns were plying their energetic trade in the company of three other handy acts the other night. Maybe it’s just that my varied tastes match pretty well with their’s, I don’t know (there’s certainly been a better than average hit rate of sounds to make me go ooh!), but so far the only thing that has disappointed me at one of their nights, has been that no-one else seems have found out about them yet.
If you’re reading this, you have no excuse. The Rohypsters are on next week. If you don’t know them, that’s the perfect opportunity to discover them, then isn’t it?
See you there.
“Strange Sensation” by Maxi Geil! and Playcolt
Last Tuesday saw the return of Club Tromolo at the Classic Grand, hosted as usual by A Band Called Quinn, and featuring the (un)usual selection of off-beat variety acts as well as guest sets by a couple of international acts: Etno-Klassic from Kosovo and New York’s own Maxi Geil! and Playcolt.
The Maxi Geil set was an eye-opener, pumping out funky, stompy tunes that had every toe in the place tapping. A little bit Roxy Music, a little bit Scissor Sisters, a little bit Mother And The Addicts, I bought their album on the spot.
So, I’ve been thinking about performance lately. Specifically I feel the indie circuit too often misses out on the theatricality and mystique that sometimes goes hand in hand with music. Don’t get me wrong I like going to see music for music’s sake, and I prefer to watch musicians without pretensions – it’s never good seeing unsigned acts who are pumped up with self-importance and acting like total cocks. But sometimes, you hanker for a bit more from a band than stylish haircuts and disaffected indie stances.And it seems I’m not alone.
It was refreshing to find myself at a gig at the Note on Saturday that fit squarely into the resurgent fringe genre they’re calling nu masque. Four acts whose power of performance relies at least in part on the creation of a persona that acts both as a wall and a window that alternately separates the audience from the performers and allows a carefully controlled glimpse into the world of their music.
Take Metal Petal, for example. The first band on the bill took the ‘mask’ element literally. Wild eyes staring out from moulded plastic and troglodytic stomping around combined with their engrossingly uncomfortable sonic output, all mutters and shouts and deep reverb, to create an experience akin to exploratory caving. In the stark, stuttering lamplight of a single strobe, guitars jangled and thrashed and echoed off the walls, keyboards washed in and out like black surf, and drum breaks promising order and pattern led you down dangerous blind alleys, only to pitch you up at the feet of a quartet of deeply unsettling glam morlocks. It wasn’t until well into their performance that I was surprised on realising that I knew three of the musicians, and I thought, “Now, that’s nu masque. Right there.”
Switch that on it’s head. Swap devils for an angel, and you have Miss Leggy Pee. A clever lipsynching act that entertains in spades. The antedote to the previous act’s dark madness, her sharp comedic interpretations of Peggy Lee’s greatest lightened the atmosphere with a sassy smile and sparkle-lashed wink. Not to mention her unconventional use of puppets. This is variety, this is burlesque. Bowie and Kemp and Bowery, and all the original maskcore pioneers would have approved.
You’ve been reading my blog long enough, you must be aware of Scunner and the Glasgow Glambangers by now. These are two acts who have been taking nu masque with their sugar puffs for years. It’s in the essence of what they do. The Glambangers describe themselves as “Gender bending glitter revivalists” and that’s them to a tee, from the thump of their glam-infused drumbox to the stomp of singer Paxton’s knee-high boots. The blurring of gender lines was a pillar of the old maskcore manifesto, and the Glambangers bring that home with a performance that is impossible to ignore.
And Scunner. The puppeteer and the engineer, along with their occasional friends. Paul Puppet arrived on the red-lit stage looking a bit like a publicity-shy Freddy Krueger, the space between the collar of his black shirt and the brim of his black fedora filled with a Burtonesque stocking mask of orange and black stripes. This striking effect was enhanced when he launched into album favourite, Zebra Grove, a dehumanised, angular halloween scarecrow bringing a menacing edge to the song. It was almost a relief when the mask was dispensed with a couple of numbers later, to reveal Puppet’s traditional make-up of comparatively friendly zig-zags and spangles.
An evening of characters then, each of them – the Petals, Leggy, Paxton and Puppet – creating a face to embellish their sounds, to challenge and engage the audience.
I liked it. A lot.
Spin forward a few nights. I’m still mulling over the nu masque thing, but the last place on earth I expected to encounter it was Andy Miller’s acoustic night at Tchai Ovna. Andy’s a technically astonishing guitar player who regularly fills the tea shop with eerie and shiveringly beautiful mellow sounds, but on stage he’s just himself. A very nice bloke playing a guitar. His guest for the evening, on the other hand, was a whole different kettle of bananas. Google ‘Uni And Her Ukelele’ and you’ll see what I mean. This utterly charming lady from San Franciso came on in a whirl of glitter and frills. You couldn’t take your eyes of her, the little body flicks that punctuated her playing, her expressive face, wide eyed and with a mouth that sang smiles. First impression was: ‘yeah, nu masque is global already’, but as her set progressed, and from talking to her afterwards, I began to suspect that this is no mask for Uni – she is actually as effervescently kooky off stage as on.
And it brings me back full circle to what it is you want from a performer. Yeah, sometimes you want more than music. You want spectacle, something weird, something wonderful to watch that complements, enhances the experience. A bit of stagecraft and performance is just the ticket. Unless you’re lucky enough to be watching one of those naturally unique people. People like Uni And Her Ukelele. But they’re special.
Categories: Bands · Entertainment · Music
