Live Review - Vance Joy - Concorde 2 Brighton

 

The calling of the musician comes to those blessed few at different points in life.  There are those who start shaking a tambourine the minute they emerge from the womb and others who have held down a number of mundane jobs before the daily grind galvanises them into cashing their chips for the alluring world of the music industry.

Gene Simmons was a primary school teacher in Spanish Harlem before embarking in a career in panto-rock, Ozzy Osbourne worked in an abattoir slicing open cow’s stomachs whilst Jack White was a master upholsterer in Detroit specialising in chaise lougues. Jay Z, meanwhile, concentrated his efforts on selling crack cocaine to the residents of Brooklyn. Everyone’s got to make a living.

Only 18 months ago Vance Joy, AKA James Keogh, swapped the lucrative but ultimately soul destroying world of law for the Elysian fields of folk music.  His career has been going gangbusters ever since.

 

Following the half hearted completion of his law degree Joy chipped away at Melbourne’s open mike scene until the success of uber-single Riptide, a radio-friendly sunbeam of folk-pop, from his debut EP God Loves You When You’re Dancing catapulted him out of obscurity. Now Vance inhabits a world of sold out tours, A-list radio play and a 5 album deal with Atlantic.  

However, judging by tonight’s performance, it is probably best he doesn’t flog all his law books just yet.

Emmylou sets the tempo for the night with an acoustic guitar motif slowly building to a crescendo before entering Mumford & Sons territory when the bass drum kicks in. It’s a sonic template he uses again and again throughout the set and it starts to get a little repetitive.

A mid tempo Red Eye sounds harder live than on record with pounding drums and interesting harmonies.  The early 90’s sound is enhanced by a drummer, who when unleashed, flails away like he is playing in Motley Crue.

A big cheer goes up from the crowd when a ukulele is produced for old favourite Play With Fire which could well be a Fleet Foxes B-side. The crowd sings along to the track but they are given little encouragement to get involved elsewhere during the course of the night.

Things improve with the alt-country vibe of Winds of Change which has a memorable melody that suits Joy’s Buckleyesque falsetto. We witness a bit of history as it is the first time the band has ever played that song live.

Whilst the bulk of the ladies in the audience smile with lovelorn intoxication and Joy’s film star looks they will only get him so far.  Whilst everything is competently played there is a distinct lack of variety and dynamism to the performance. Songs like Snaggletooth, Best That I Can and My Kind of Man meander along similar folky cul-de-sacs. The mid tempo strumming is screaming out for a guitar solo or a counter melodies of any kind.  Frankly, it’s all a bit drab.
 

The contrasts in Joy’s song writing/arranging skills are magnified when he performs a finger picked cover of Bruce Springsteen’s Dancing In The Dark. It is a wonderful version and it has the audience rapt but it shows how far he needs to go to mix it with the big boys.

 

The Dylanesque From Afar and Mumfordy Wasted Time show promise before the inevitable climax of Riptide (a song which was partial written as long ago as 2008), which swaggers in with a rollicking energy otherwise missing for the rest of the set.

It’s a fabulous song and Joy is new to the art of stage craft so let’s give him the benefit of the doubt.  He will surely become more confident and accomplished on stage (and on record) as his career progresses.  As Leonard Cohen said if he knew where all the good songs came from
 

“he’d go there more often”
 

 

Let’s hope Joy isn’t just passing through that magical land on his way to his final destination of Onehitswonderville.

Live Music Review - Robert Glasper - Concorde 2 - Brighton

 

Jazz has long had the reputation for being the unique preserve of uber-cool, beret-wearing beard-strokers smoking Gauloises in dingy basements.  Heads are nodded to improvised solos and diminished 9ths are talked about in reverential tones.  It’s a select club and there’s a good chance you are not invited.

Grammy winning Houstonian Robert Glasper has done his best to open up the genre with his contemporary amalgam of jazz and hip hop.  He is the go-to-guy for heavyweight  acts such as Maxwell, Q-Tip and Common hoping to sprinkle some of his jazz seasoning over their urban offerings. 

Beanie hat on and smoking a cheroot Glasper strolls on stage and perches behind a wall of keyboards playing the role of band leader with a practiced calm.  First up is Glasper’s take on Kanye’s No Church In the Wild which sets the tone for the rest of the evening with an atmospheric paired down arrangement, Derrick Hodge’s bubbling bass  and a vocoder laden vocal from Casey Benjamin.   

 

The charismatic Benjamin is tasked with most of tonight’s vocal duties subbing on the guest-laden tracks from Black Radio and its sequel which feature the likes of Anthony Hamilton, Snoop Dogg and Bilal all of whom were unlikely to pitch up on a cold Tuesday evening in Brighton.  Tonight he is decked out with an impressive quiff, beard, biker jacket and vest that make him look like a black George Michael.

The disco scratch of Nile Rogers guitar is substituted for some descending scales and weird synth burbles for their cover of Daft Punk’s Get Lucky changing the tone to such an extent that there is a ripple of satisfaction when the crowd eventually work out what they are playing.   Benjamin’s Herbie Hancock referencing vocals are interspersed with some ingenious Max Headroom stuttering audio effects.

Let it Ride picks up the pace with some with some intricate drumming from Mark Colenburg expertly conveying the songs delicate drum and bass texture.  This is the start of the show dedicated to the jazz nerds who coo loudly when a particular break or key change is delivered.  Glasper plays a long complicated improvisation simultaneously on two different keyboards, basically because he can.

 

I Stand Alone starts with a striking John Legendesque piano break that segues into an extend bass  solo from Hodge which recalls motifs from Miles Davis’ Sketches of Spain. It’s technically brilliant but so is a research scientist in a lab extracting stem cells from bone marrow.  Both hardly classify as Saturday night entertainment.

 Jazz fans may want to appear cooler than thou but they can’t help stifle a cheer when Radio 2 staple Lovely Day gets an airing. Benjamin’s vocoder lends the track a light funk that offsets the heavy hip hop beat laid down by Colenburg.

Basment Jaxx/Dizzee Rascal collaborator Vula Malinga then appears on stage to give the crowd a welcome break from the vocoder. Her sublime Minnie Ripperton register works well in harmony with Benjamin and her sultry vocals include some Badu-like scatting on the cover of Floetry’s Say Yes and are good enough to make Glasper leave the stage in mock admiration.

 

Up next is All Matter song Glasper co-wrote with Bilal.  I had the privilege of hearing the track played live at the Jazz Cafe a few years ago and Bilal’s band blew the roof off.  This version doesn't have anything like the urgency of the original and suffers from Glasper’s dissonant chords. Benjamin breaks out the alto sax midway through for an extended solo and we are on another one way trip to Noodlesville.

 

“Brighton rocks!”

exclaims  Glasper but he is beaten by the clock after another vocoder heavy  reworking of Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit takes him past curfew with no time for an encore.

There was me thinking jazzers were good at keeping time.

Live Review - Miles Kane Concorde 2- Brighton

 

Ever since Noel decided that no amount of money was worth putting up with the petulant man-child that is his brother Liam there has been an Oasis sized hole on the music scene that no one has had the balls and the tunes to fill.

Miles Kane shares the same musical DNA as the Gallaghers with his no nonsense retro inflected rock ‘n roll. This mutual appreciation society as led to Noel turning up to do some backing vocals on his first album, The Colour Of The Trap and Liam offering a support slot on the Beady Eye tour. Celebrity patronage, model girlfriends and cool haircuts ensued.

Tonight, such rock ‘n roll credentials have garnered the attention of the police as a van is surprisingly parked outside the Concorde in readiness for the potential for knuckle draggers. Sure enough the packed venue has more than a whiff of testosterone and there is no queue for the ladies toilets. The beery crowd attempt to coax a tardy Kane from the comfort of his dressing room with some terrace chanting.

“My-Yalls, My-Yalls, My-Yalls”

Fashion is funny thing and although Miles is something of a style icon his penchant for drainpipes, mop-top and brightly coloured roll-necks bear more than a passing resemblance to The Big Bang Theory’s Howard Wolowitz.

When he finally appears, he seems to have toned down his Mod look with a short back and sides (he must have done a 2-for-1 deal with Leighton Baines) and a comparatively sombre patterned shirt.

Miles emerges all guns blazing and sets the tone for the rest of the set. He will play loud and hard. Inhaler is an explosive start and its repeated retro riffage drills into your brain. Counting Down The Days has an epic chorus that Kasabian would be proud of and sounds a lot more beefy than on record.

The minor chords, clattering drums and Doorsy vibe of Kingcrawler gets the crowd into a frenzy and a mosh-pit develops at the front of the stage accompanied by a shower of beer. My favourite track from new album Don’t Forget Who You Are is the punchy 60’s beat pop of Better Than That with it’s back beat and buoyant Taxman riff. The call and response chorus is fabulous and shows what he is capable of when he puts his mind to it.

Unfortunately, not all tracks are of such a high standard. A few are pretty pedestrian and stomp along in search of a tune. The glam-rock strut of You’re Gonna Get It tries hard but crashes on the musical shoreline in a blizzard of strobe lights and Little Illusion Machine (Wirral Riddler), an Arctic Monkeys B-side, is pretty dreary as is My Fantasy which only comes alive in the final few bars.

Kane could do well taking a few pointers from best pal Alex Turner whose song writing is in a different league at the moment. The peppy psychedelic pop of Taking Over is an improvement and really gets going during the driving middle eight. It is reminiscent of Paul Weller’s forays into blue eyed Northern soul. During the dirty rock of Give Up Miles segues into Sympathy For Devil and whilst he doesn’t have Keith Richards’ loose funk the song is a welcome example of how rock ‘n roll can simultaneously be edgy and melodic.

To credit Kane he has the bulk of the audience eating out of the palm of his hand with his proto-Gallagher swagger but I find the “Let's f*cking have it!” shtick gratiing as the gig wears on. Personal preferences aside his energy is to be admired and here he cajoles the crowd into singing the song’s extended refrain

“You’re pretty good looking but I’m looking for a way out”

Despite the competent playing, the enthusiasm and the amps turned up to 11 I’m left feeling short-changed. Miles seems capable of more than simply appealing to the lowest common denominator but perhaps he is canny enough just to give this crowd what they want: no frills rock ‘n roll escapism.

For the encore we get a welcome change of tone with the acoustic The Colour Of The Trap which he dedicates to

"…all the ladies"

It sounds like something Buddy Holly might have recorded and reflects the more nuanced work he did with Turner on The Last Shadow Puppets album. Kane rounds off the night with Don’t Forget Who You Are and we are back in T-Rex territory with its driving chorus and the crowd friendly “Na Na Na’s”. The songs refrain continues to be chanted long after the band leave the stage, I head off into the night and the police start to warm up their truncheons.

LIve Music Review -Darwin Deez Brighton Concorde 11/02/13

It's a cold, wintry night outside the Concorde 2.  Only the hardiest of hipsters have been brave enough to schlep down here on a Monday to see if Darwin Deez have retained that off-beat charm that made the eponymous debut album a sleeper hit. It is testament to Darwin Smith's pulling power that the show is still a virtual sell-out.

I've saw Darwin back in 2010, just down the road at Digital, when his first album was making waves and was curious to see how much quirkiness and joie de vivre he had been retained after three years in the cynical spin cycle of the music industry.

Darwin bounds on stage in good spirits, resplendent in powder blue cashmere every inch the cross between a low budget Hassidic porn star and Wierd Al Yankovic's long lost son. Backed by a new three piece band (only the original bassist remains) they are keen to air their new material.

It's always a risk playing new songs to punters who haven't had the chance to absorb your new music. Darwin's new album Songs For Imaginative People was only released the day of the show and you could tell by the volume of crowd chatter that the new songs were struggling to make an impact. Sadly, the attention span for your average indie kid is only marginally higher than that of a goldfish on Rohypnol.

Nice to see the ironic synchronised dancing is still on the menu (think Spike Jonz video for Fatboy Slim's Praise You). Its a diverting but  inconsequential bonus to the music.  On reflection despite all the  signs indicating its business as usual Darwin may be suffering from "second album syndrome" as little of the new material has the immediacy of Bad Day or Radar Detector. These two along with DNA

"It's 3 years old but it's still got it."

get the biggest cheers of the evening.

Perhaps the new tracks will benefit from multiple listens.  Moonlit has more than a hint of Prince circa Controversy with its funky licks and 80's synth-soul flourishes.  Midway through the song Darwin blasts out an impressive guitar solo that would do the purple funker proud.  In fact Darwin's axe skills have come on leaps and bounds as a number of the new tracks feature clever guitar work complete with Santanaesque facial grimaces.

Alice shows promise with a big chorus that stays in the memory and first single Free (The Editorial Me) sounds like an Graham Coxon album track with its unconventional song structure and jagged guitar. Redshift is positively anthemic and in danger of straying into Bon Jovi territory.

However just as you expect certain songs to go a  certain direction they dive away from convention and leave you wrong footed. You have to applaud his musical ambition but it ensures his performance struggles to gain momentum.


Final track (800) HUMAN, a meandering ode to the work of Dinosaur Jr, is probably  misjudged as a curtain closer.  You can feel the crowd want to get involved but Darwin's left turns keep them at arms length. The general public can do kooky but weird is a more of an acquired taste.