Bristol: A Venue Guide

I wrote a bit of a venue guide for Rife, a new online platform for young people. Obviously, I didn’t think about quite how young the audience might be and managed to riddle my original version with lots of references to alcohol and none to how old you might have to be to get in the venues. I am a silly sausage. So, now you can choose from the Rife one (click here to have a look) or the spicier version for 18+s below. Enjoy.

What Bristol lacks in an arena it more than makes up for in its many quirky music venues. This guide aims to inform you on where to get your ears on the best of Bristol’s music scene (and get a cheap pint into the bargain).

The Birdcage

Look up ‘twee’ in the dictionary and you’ll find vintage-lover’s delight, The Birdcage. These guys are serious about coffee, know how to put a salad plate together and own more bone china than your nan. They also know how to put on a jolly good show on their mini-stage. Particularly partial to acoustic gigs, this is the place to get to know your Earl Grey from your gunpowder tea while soaking in some vintage vibes. They even have an in-house vintage shop for you to riffle through between sets.

Colston Hall

Colston Hall is a whopper of a venue that thankfully doesn’t shy away from an eclectic programme. Rock, pop, jazz and funk has all found a home here, and the new addition of the medium-sized (and medium-priced) Lantern space means even more acts and audiences can get involved in the good times. The Bath Ales bar and kitchen downstairs has also had a recent revamp, meaning you can get a half of Gem down you in style, or, take on some tapas with Gordito, the Barcelona –inspired restaurant out back you swanky bugger you.

Exchange

Run by the people who brought the much-missed Croft to life, Exchange is the phoenix from the flames. Set in at the town-end of Old Market, it’s grungey, tough and full of the same energy that inspired so much Croftian love. They’re serious about their line-ups and cater to an audience who are similarly inspired by the noisier side of the coin. The girl’s toilets are pretty rad— any reports on the male ones are welcome.

The Fleece

The Fleece is way down in Temple Meads so it’s perfect if you’re coming down to Bristol for some short-term kicks. Despite the massive pillars in the way, you can always depend on a show sounding great here (even if you can’t quite see it). Recently the venue has been threatened by stupid housing planners who are trying to jam in flats within hearing distance of the venue, which is just plain silly. The amount of support behind #savethefleece (including from George Ferguson, our beloved leader) shows how close to Bristol’s knarled bosom this venue really is. Sign here if you haven’t already.

Big Chill Bristol

All manner of DJs flock to this cool as ice bar venue, but be warned: these DJs do not take requests. There’s an all-day menu on offer, but this place really comes alive at night with lots of cocktails to whet your whistle (reportedly the Wray and Nephew will send you particularly psychotic). Careful of the bouncers too as they tend to be picky, especially if you’re a load of blokes out on a single-sex drinking mission.

Start the Bus

Peace up, A-town down, or whatever the cool kids say these days. STB is part of a very trendy chain of bars that span the UK, but unlike your usual chain, they actually wear their chaininess well. There’s very nice (if slightly over-priced) beers on tap and lots of good American diner inspired food on the menu. Steps give a good view of one of the best sounding stages in Bristol, and room seems to shrink or expand to fit any sized band. Fairy lights add to the cosy feel whatever the all-embracing programme lines up. The only let-down is the location which tends to lend to the influx of drunk Saturday night alcos who don’t really know why they’re there.

Trinity Centre

The Trinity Centre is a re-purposed church-turned-community arts centre. They have really good music things in motion for young people at the moment: checking out their website for more information on free stuff that could get you on the track to a career in the arts is a great idea. As well as playing cool older sibling to the community, they’re also unafraid of having talks, workshops and club nights as part of their wonderful musical agenda. Everything they put on is top drawer and sounds great.

The Golden Lion

Up Stoke’s Croft, then up some more, you’ll find Bishopston’s big ol’ lovely pub, The Golden Lion. It’s rough and ready, but what it loses out on smart, it makes up for in charm. Great for a pint and a chance to catch some of Bristol’s smaller bands before they do an Ezra and end up all over the place.

The O2 Academy

It’s corporate, it’s soulless, it’s full of over-priced drinks and way too many people, but at least we’ve got it. These Academy places are every-flipping-where, and unfortunately Bristol’s is the only place big enough to house larger bands wanting to visit the South-West. Boring and expensive, but just about fit for purpose.

The Anson Rooms

This place attracts lots of students as its part of the University of Bristol’s Student Union and is always roomy enough to have a rave down the front or back. Unfortunately, it has the worst sounding bass ever. You might be forgiven for thinking that you were repeatedly being hit in the face with a wet fish or that the sound system was borrowed from a boy racer’s radio. Shockingly enough this place was refurbished not long ago. What went wrong, guys?

The Louisiana

Of course, the main advantage of a pub venue is lots and lots of drinks to choose from—but The Louisiana is even more special than that. Scan the walls and you can feel the prestigious history of the venue through all the posters of bands that have played in years past. It kind of feels like your aunties lounge (and they do a mean roast on a Sunday that your auntie would probably love), but it manages to attract old and young to the two permanent stages based upstairs and down in the basement. The upper room has been soundproofed so much it sounds marvellous in there. The neighbours must appreciate it too.

Thekla

In for refurb up by the Grain Barge for now, Thekla is Bristol’s premier waterborne venue. The balconies are fantastic for views (if you’re quick enough) and the audience there is always up for a good time. Club night Pressure on a Wednesday is an institution for 18 and overs, but you might feel a bit old you’re over 21… Another warning: the drinks queues are always a killer, and the bar staff are always over-worked and snarling by midnight.

Mother’s Ruin

Smelly, dirty and great. Bands are stuffed into the upper room where people stand on chairs to grab a better look. This place is always properly packed to the rafters. Bands love it here: you can go minor celebrity spotting if you have the time or the inclination. The beer is good and the cider is strong! Check out their special shooters if you think you’re ‘ard enough.

Atomic Bomb—Who is William Onyeabor? at Colston Hall 2/4/2014

 

Now a born-again Christian who refuses interviews concerning his mysterious past, Onyeabor is a futuristic music pioneer from Nigeria who harnessed synthesisers to produce a sound not only ahead of its time but enduringly individual and as catchy as anything LCD or Hot Chip ever put out. Damon Albarn calls William Onyeabor ‘eccentric, intelligent and incredibly funky’, and on Wednesday Bristol got a slice of the first time his music has ever been played live in a tribute that was lively (to say the least). The glittering cast of guest singers were supported by an equally shiny house band for the hugely danceable and at times adorably eccentric performance.

The sheer number of key figures of electro on the bill speaks volumes for the influence Onyeabor has had on the face of electronic music: Money Mark (Beastie Boys) provoked whoops from the crowd with his dramatic keyboarding that only stopped short of a gymnastic display, infectiously energetic Sinkane manned the keyboard and vocals while acting as host and leader of the house band, Alexis Taylor (Hot Chip) appeared to have donned an outfit that could only be described as Amish beekeeper chic, an excitable Ghostpoet wore his best blue suit and challenged Sinkane to a closely-run dance-off of which both of them were winners, Kele from Bloc Party got everyone on the balcony moving, a focused Pat Mahoney of LCD Soundsystem provided the beats… not to mention the lesser known but hugely talented house band. It’s enough to make a fan weep, and not just from getting cross-eyed trying to follow what everyone was doing onstage.

“…Alexis Taylor (Hot Chip) appeared to have donned an outfit that could only be described as Amish beekeeper chic…”

Onyeabor’s music translates perfectly into a live show. It’s endlessly clever, fun and filled to the eyeballs with funk. Although the guest singers were obviously great (nothing comes close to the one-in-a-million voice of Hot Chip’s Alexis Taylor in my opinion) the best surprise of the night was the one-man hype-machine Sinkane who got the crowd bopping to within an inch of their lives. People in the crowd were actually doing proper dance moves the likes of which you would usually save for your kitchen when you accidentally got pissed on one glass of wine by yourself on a Wednesday. And it was glorious.

Weirdest point of the night came courtesy of the Lijadu Sisters: twins who after having considerable musical success in Nigeria in the 70s and 80s were back to perform for the first time in thirty years. It’s unlikely anyone in the audience knew who they were, and although they were dressed to stun, they seemed confused and needed help from the rest of the band with singing their material.

No matter, however; the sisters just added to the overall theme of ‘I don’t know what is going on… but I like it’. Colston Hall provided the perfect backdrop to the frenetic, colourful, bizarre cacophony of music, clothing and dancemoves; a fantastic tribute to a man whose music has given so much and has so much more left to give.

Warpaint at the O2 vs. Cate le Bon at The Lantern, Colston Hall

Alright, playing these live acts off each other doesn’t seem kosher right off. They’re different. Cate is a dark, innately cool Welsh songstress whose late 2013 Turnstile release Mug Museum is a gloriously spare, melodic wonder. Warpaint are an atmospheric, intense, mood-driven Californian outfit who make the kind of music you can imagine the coolest orgy in the world being staged to. They’re both great, I saw them both in a week; I got a lot out of one and not the other. Why?

I’ve seen Warpaint before, and technically they’re bordering flawless (Mozgawa on drums was especially unbelievable this time round), but some of the material from their recent self-titled release wasn’t cutting it against their proven live hits. Swathes of songs (alright, two or three in a row, but a healthy chunk) were lost on the crowd who during that time either started having a good ol’ chinwag or stared resolutely into the middle distance. Nobody seemed excited by the new stuff, and that’s a shame, cause on first listen you’d think that it’d be even better live fodder than 2010’s The Fool. The best moments of the night were drawn from that sparse first album however: ‘Bees’, ‘Billie Holiday’ and a solo Kokal-voiced ‘Baby’ all sounded killer and the crowd chanting along garnered some needed atmosphere and band-audience connection (despite Warpaint’s seeming nonchalance).

But here we go, the fangirling you’ve all been waiting for. Let me be the one to say it first: thank god for Cate Le Bon. Christ she’s cool. The kind of endless cool that makes you moon up at her with stars in your eyes and sigh, ‘oh lord, where did it go wrong for me?’ and ‘where, oh where, can I get a haircut that sharp?’. While Warpaint were struggling with monopolising their audience’s attention at the O2, when Cate was on, she was fascinating.

‘…there’s a rocky push on her newest effort that makes it feel like a real and exciting expansion’

The spooky, unusual vocals were immediately attention-arresting, and then those earworm melodies came in, taken to the next level with a heavier take on the tidy Mug Museum. Already a sense of reverence prevails: there’s no photos allowed (hence the lack of snaps here) and limited between-song chat (apart from a deeply Welsh and husky ‘sorry, I’m a bit hoarse’) and there’s a rocky push on her newest effort that makes it feel like a real and exciting expansion. If her voice could have extended slightly more- at points the crashing guitar needed more than what she was giving- I would have thrown this down as a contender to the best thing I’ll see in 2014, and as it stands, it was really, really, bloody good. See you again, Cate, ya class act, and hopefully really bloody soon.