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Creatures of The Night @ Ashton Lane
With Pendulum, Foals, Capitals and Boycotts – 29th October
There are a number of things which first raised my suspicions in this Halloween event – The fact that it was run by a massive beer company (down wiv capitalism!), doubts it would be ‘the Halloween party to end them all’ it claimed and I suppose this is just snobbery, but the Pendulum DJ set.
It started of relatively gently with brilliant sets from local bands Boycotts and Capitals. They managed to pull in decent crowds and gave full on performances despite the tiny space of Brel’s conservatory. It does seem like I’m championing the underdog here, but it really is too easy when over at the Grosvenor Café, Pendulum took to the podium to inevitably reign over the whole event.
Yes, I have beef with Pendulum. I just can’t get over their relentless build ups and break downs and constant touring of an album released in 2008 – October must be a quiet time for the band, what with the Fresher’s Week season well and truly finished 2 months ago. Whilst there was an inordinate amount of fist pumping wankers at the front, Pendulum can only be applauded for filling such a large space and getting what felt like 3785 people bouncing simultaneously.
An interesting addition to their set were the caged dancers. A semi- nude man in a skirt gyrating to Propane Nightmares is always entertaining, although just a little awkward when the music cuts and drum n bass babe is transformed to overly ripped bloke hovering beneath some tent poles (sorry, no photos). The gig was fun though and on a day when the main idea is to lighten up and behave like a twat, it was entirely fitting.
Following this, Foals seemed to be set up as an alternative to the boisterous Pendulum and playing last, you could assume that they had a headline position. But the crowd had dwindled both in numbers and capacity to stand upright, meaning everything felt a bit chaotic. Although Foals are a guitar band, their characteristic fast-paced rhythms are solidly based in dance music, something which Edwin of the band explains: “Our first record was hugely influenced by dance music; I think we’re more comfortable producing our own music now and we’re really into clubbing”. It was quite difficult however to pick out these home grown treats, but they did manage to pin the tone of the night well, with classics from Hot Chip and Daft Punk.
Calling an event Creatures of The Night is asking for it – Millers have set up a joke against themselves there for the real creatures of the night were not the artists or people dressed up and employed to invade the personal space of guests by breathing in their faces in an attempt to be scary, but the reliably drunken, face painted masses of Ashton Lane. And that exactly personifies the merry, hideous idea of Halloween.
Words by Megan Donald
Photos by Jassy Earl
Mid Week Mellowness – A new GUM playlist
In this consciously upbeat dedication to ambient pop and acoustic, Jassy Earl takes us through some of her favourite current tunes that will definitely make you want to forget about that crappy Thursday and retreat to the woods…
[ONE] Ben Howard – The Wolves
It may seem an obvious choice but raving earlier over Ben Howard’s debut, I was astonished to be deafened by replies of “who?!” If you haven’t heard of him yet, it begs the question as to whether you’ve been tracking down polar bears in the Hebrides or have indeed lost your hearing after too many night on Sauchiehall Street. His album Every Kingdom is an intimate beach side jam and a layering of folk and mainstream pop; a showcase of raspy voice and magnificent guitar virtuosity. It’s a sound comparable to Jose Gonzalez’ and is definitely about and beyond the hyper-popular appeal of Ed Sheeran. There’s believability and a raw emotional loading. The Wolves itself is haunting and soulful amongst complicated guitar patterns and military drum beats; and empowering antherm that should be the top of your Most Played list.
[TWO] Lucy Rose – Middle of The Bed
After supporting Ben Howard on Tour, Lucy Rose is one to look out for. She finished her A-Levels, lent her vocals to Bombay Bicycle’s ‘Flaws’ and has continued to follow in the footsteps of Laura Marling and Emmy the Great, who have spurned a new generation of female singer-songwriters. Beautiful lyrics, acoustic melodies and a subtle husky tone loaded with beautiful harmonies and simple storytelling lyrics makes the track a catchy one. It’s also worth checking out Don’t You Worry - more sombre, but still magnificent.
[THREE] Dead Letter Chorus – Run Wild
Pure, unadulterated fun that will have you running around your room like a 5 year old on smarties. It’s another of those you need to see the video to appreciate its seduction and its ability to produce a delightful nostalgia. Dress up as a wolf, run around the Botanic Gardens with a pile of leaves shouting “da-dee-da” at the top of your lungs and scare those squirrels away. I know I want to.
[FOUR] Gotye ft. Kimbra – Somebody That I Used to Know
It’s a song that will have you undoubtedly hitting away at the replay button over and over again. A collaboration between the Belgian-Australian multi-instrumentalist and the New Zealander Kimbra, it’s true to say the subject matter isn’t the most uplifting but the innocent melodic xylophone and simple acoustic quality of anguish combine to send chills down the spine. Wait until Kimbra starts singing and you’ll definitely appreciate what all the fuss is about. With Gotye’s Sting like voice and Kimbra’s 1960’s soul quality, and a conceptually artistic video to boot, it’s one you won’t get away from easily.
[FIVE] Admiral Fallow – Old Balloons
Somewhere between Arcade Fire and Mumford and Sons, with a wee bit of Sons and Daughters chucked in there; its folk charged with a buoyancy and richness amongst the electric pile of instruments; flutes, clarinets, double bass and violins. The harmonious collective of male and female voices, choral bombast and idyllic Scottish imagery (the sea, the sky, the rain), along with Louis Abbott’s imaginative storytelling and dulcet tones are sure to warm the ‘ol cockles on a chilly autumn morning.
Review – Foreign Office @ SWG3
No, not the oh so British establishment that reminds daft tourists to take their Malaria tablets on their gap year! There is no baldy William Hague here.
Foreign Office make music embedded deep in new wave and post punk with plenty of spiky guitars and addictive, funk rooted rhythms. The gig was a brisk romp through their catalogue which is heavy in memorable, poppy hooks and joyful synth stabs. Lyrically, Foreign Office seem to be constantly yearning – it’s all begging and pleases, something which seemed appropriate on the night – Please let there be more people, “I’m on my Hands and Knees, PLEASE”** The sparse audience however, were appreciative and eager to embrace what is importantly still a fairly unrecognised band.
But with a tour supporting Young Knives (a match made in heaven), Foreign Office are a band that are unlikely to be left on the art rock waste pile. Their remarkable similarity to the ever-popular Rapture – in their sound, look and influences – will probably be another aid to their career. It can’t then go unmentioned that The Rapture are playing the same venue a week later – it seems like the aesthetically-concerned SWG3 are pinning their colours to the wall in their recent venture into gigs. But, as un-riotous as this night was, it felt like a taste of what is to come from Foreign Office who hopefully after this tour will gain some well-deserved recognition.
**Have a look at their most recent single “Hands and Knees” here (hopefully the hilarious tenuous reference makes sense now..)
Words by Megan Donald
Photos by Jassy Earl
Vanishing Point returned to the Tramway with a show reminiscent of ‘Interiors’, their last production. Separated from the stage by a panel of glass, the audience survey the action as if they were looking into a block of flats. Privy to no character dialogue whatsoever, we only hear sounds such as the television set, a hoover and a guitar being strummed. In the two flats we are allowed to see, the muted actors perform in mime. Above the main point of action, an old woman sits in a small room for the entire performance watching a television in the dark. Beneath her a young couple give a display of their life.
The piece begins slowly, with the couple moving into the flat, arranging their furniture, listening to the radio, burning their cooking and other menial tasks. Their life is seemingly ordinary. The pace begins to accelerate and the performance simultaneously acquires a new surrealism. Suddenly the wife becomes heavily pregnant and kisses her neighbour on the sofa before going into labour in the bathroom. As she gives birth to her baby between the sink and bath it is snatched away by a midwife who suddenly appears whilst the other three main characters stand oblivious next door. The living room’s back door swings open of its own accord: actors in slightly ridiculous gorilla and astronaut costumes enter, startling the young wife. She finds her husband lying motionless on the sofa and cannot wake him up. It conspires that he is dead, her neighbours enter and exit rapidly, asking her favours, ignoring the body slumped before them. By this time, the living room is a cluttered mess and ivy has descended from the ceiling into the room. The auditorium is left confused. The sheet of glass between us and the action has isolated us from the play’s meaning. The significance of what we’ve endured is anyone’s guess.
Just as our minds begin to worry about how we’ll make conversation about this mish-mash in the Tramway bar, the old woman from the flat above appears on the lower level and looks about the debris of her life strewn around the living room. In an instant everything is justified and clear. It becomes clear that everything we have seen is symbolic of occurrences in the woman’s life. Her affair, her miscarriage and the death of her husband – along with her friends’ abandonment of her after this – have all been represented in miniature form, packed tight into a short Saturday evening.
It is tempting to think that everything we have seen was the visions of the elderly woman, seconds before her death. Perhaps the astronauts and gorillas she sees are her mind playing tricks on her, mistaking the figures for forensic doctors who remove her body from the stage in the play’s final seconds. Perhaps the haste of the play’s latter stages is an acknowledgement of how quickly life passes by. At the same time the vines hanging down into the room might denote the stagnation of the woman’s life and the messy living room hint at how difficult life is to control. What is remarkable about Vanishing Point’s production is the split second metamorphosis at the end. One second we are baffled, the next we are handed a huge pool of thoughts and opinions about the play by the final revelation.
‘Saturday Night’ is not always enjoyable to watch, but perhaps that is the point. Life is complicated and incomprehensible and often leaves us feeling lost and lonely, like the elderly lady at the end. As in ‘Interiors’, watching the performers act through a sheet of glass at times feels tiresome – even the most naturalist of scenes will have subtle traces of exaggeration; the actors must ensure we know exactly what we’re watching – but this prying perspective is an interesting one. Totally restricting an audience from dialogue is a rare and daring choice to make. It provides an atmosphere in which the clever representation of the woman’s life thrives. Whilst it is confusing and at times aggravating to watch, ‘Saturday Night’ triggers the audience’s sympathy at its climax and its resolution leaves us considering how we will fare in the remainder of our lives.
Review by: Abraham ParkerClare
On 20th October Megan Donald visited Stereo to see some quality emerging talent and to try to understand the state of the much debated ’folk-pop’. Photos by Fiona Boyd.
Looking back at the preview I wrote for Musicbox ‘Double Bill’, it is admittedly heavy in hyperbole. It’s too easy a path to stumble down when you want to convey boundless enthusiasm but are, as ever, pushed for time/a bit lazy. Waving about such high claims is a very precarious thing to do: “A finer collection of Scottish acoustic artists would be near impossible to find”, I declared. Re-reading this and a massive ‘REALLY?’ rings in my head. In hindsight though, perhaps my slight idleness can be brushed aside – Musicbox ‘Double Bill’ really was impressive.
And pulling off a night dedicated to folk pop is no easy thing. As a genre it’s especially prone to crappy impersonators – open mic regulars with acoustic guitars, where the only relief is the chance appearance of a tambourine. This gig proved that this luckily isn’t folk’s fate. With a total of 4 acts playing, there was a fine balance between stylistic variety and cohesiveness between the bands, meaning the night never dragged but managed to demonstrate the breadth of styles which are usually lumped together under the genre. In fact it helped dissolve the acoustic, Arran jumper-wearing stereotype – it was unpretentious, loud and there weren’t really that many beards. To understand a bit more about the artists involved I spoke to them about their own distinctive styles, and tried to see what links them.
First up were Chasing Owls 4 piece band based in Edinburgh who have be putting some serious effort into relentless gigging over the past year. Singer Ben says it’s paid off: “It really was quite hard work. But if you live on the premise that every piece of work is something to be thankful for, a band can’t go wrong”. Listening to their recent EP ‘We Began’, feelings about place and home seem to be a strong current in their writing: “I grew up in Oban and I love it and Scotland and I tend to write about my life there and so home does slip into the music.” The band like to make sure they get this across as the performance pulls in the crowd with not only clever melodies but anecdotes. Ben explains that, “I love a place that’s small enough for me to be able to catch the crowd’s attention. It makes it more personal and you can have a bit of a chat which is the best bit of it all’.
Speaking to Bear Bones, this writing about homely tales is something that runs through their work too. Singer and writer Ben Harrison, a rambunctious chap from the isles in a Barbour jacket (“It’s ok, everyone wears one in Islay”) was staggered when I suggested that the small island isn’t exactly bangin’: “LOTS HAPPENS IN ISLAY, OK – Our new song is about how I found my neighbour in the middle of the road drunk and I thought, I’ll do a good deed, put him in my car, take him home. And then he pissed himself in my passenger’s seat. That’s a true story.” It’s at this point it all turns from West coast gossip to the inevitable folk pop comparison. Ben jokes:
“Life would be different without Mumford and Sons. The first time Richey (bandmate) heard them he text me and said, ‘we’re ruined!” But Bear Bones employ an interesting set up and way of writing that stands them apart: “I’ve been writing for the band for 3 years, and we’ve had 19 different members so far. It’s a good thing though, it keeps it fluid. I’m also a trombonist so I record guitar and write all the other melodies on trombone.”
Leaning more to the solo songwriter side of the line up was Bella Spinks, who on this day experienced her first time in Glasgow, Scotland and in fact on a plane. With roots in Brighton and London, she admitted it can sometimes be a challenge: “You have to be strong willed in London. I like to think I’m a good judge of character and can see through the poseurs.” Contrasted to the upbeat nature of the other acts, her solo piano and guitar music was more minimal and pensive, something which is also reflected in her introspective but quietly confident lyrics. Spinks admits that she is a thoughtful person: “I try to think about my writing, it’s not verbal diarrhoea and so my emotions are trained through my music.”
Heading the line up were Kitty The Lion, a band who seem to follow the thread of more traditional Glaswegian indie – standard rhythmic, poppy guitars and light-hearted lyrics, a reinvention (re-hashing?) of Postcard Records stuff. Singer Anna told me her upbringing helped her form this optimism: “Some people like Bon Iver can do miserable beautifully but I don’t want to be whiny. I have my mother’s voice in my head saying ‘Don’t be so indulgent!’” Their performance whilst slightly lackadaisical by comparison to fresh energy of the others, it was solid and concise. ‘Solid and concise’ however are words that tend to describe statistics or urban planning or lengthy discussions on Radio 4… But as winter depression creeps in, surely their charmingly persistent cheeriness can be no bad thing.
So let’s not let Mumford and Sons cast their enormous shadow over this dynamic genre. It undermines the likes of Musicbox ‘Double Bill’ which has shown that the many different stylistic strands have their own vigour and deserve a separate mention. What seemed to underlie this night and all the acts together was a sense of determination and grit and maybe that’s the real ethos of folk.
Many thanks to Patrick Spinks and Nicky Carder
Bar Soda – a review
I’m no Asian food expert. In fact, my ventures into that culinary territory are limited to an occasional Chinese take-out and the one-off trip to Yo-Sushi! – inevitably reflected in my handling of chop-sticks, which comes close to resembling a circus performance. But things might very well be on the cusp of change, after being invited to attend Bar Soba’s Christmas Menu launch. Right now, it is true, my mind could not be further away from thinking of festivities amidst a whirlwind of uni work and essay deadlines, but seeing as we’re talking Asian fusion cooking, it was inevitably going to be Christmas food with a twist – something, I feel, I’d quite happily tackle at any time of the year.
Admittedly not your “241 burger” or “lunch for £3.95” deal, Bar Soba – tucked away at the foot of The Lighthouse – is nevertheless within the student price-range with a 2-course lunch for £9.95 or sushi plates starting at £2.75. Following a prosecco welcome, Wednesday evening’s event saw us tasting a range of Asian canapes: from duck gyozas dipped in plum sauce to the more adventurous small toasts of Korean chicken with pear on a bed of rocket, or sticky tempura prawn balancing on sweet chilli & coriander mayo. All this was rounded off nicely by a mini Um-Bongo cocktail and a Thai massage that sent everyone reeling home to bed, full, content and sleepy. In any case it was proof that Bar Soba can do food tantalising to the taste-buds, and that their Christmas menu boasting the likes of Cinnamon and Plum Duck Confit should be a good’un. Disappearing down Mitchell Lane for the space of an hour or two is therefore well worth a shot.
Review by: Ginger Clark
