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.

NME Tour 2014 at the 02 Academy Bristol 27/3/2014

You might have some prejudices about the NME Tour even before you see the line-up. The NME? Can their choice of bands really still be relevant? Won’t it be full of studenty teens? Do they have an ambulance on hand for twats who dance at the front for four hours? Well, yes, yes, yes… and no (the last one learned the hard way.) Please, cast your aspersions aside for now. The NME tour is a great way to get some sparkling new bands down you and see a killer headliner to boot.

Unfortunately, we’re still a long off way from headliners. To take the edge off, Circa Waves get the classic ‘brand new chancers’ slot and charm the crowd with some fast paced, good old-fashioned garage indie. They’re not treading new ground here, but sheer force of personality turns what could sound overdone into music that’s unapologetically fun, young and great to watch. They’re exactly the kind of burgeoning talent that this slot is reserved for, and with a debut album in the works this year, they’re one to keep an eye on.

Up after, Royal Blood. So much bravado joined this duo onto the stage, there just had to be a massive sound to back it up. Not to disappoint, huge sweeps of Zeppelin-inspired guitar teamed with mammoth drums delivered ear damage to the baying crowd. It was a show hard to keep your eyes off, and there was plenty of showmanship and confidence on stage, but it knocked a bit hollow as an overall performance. As he encouraged cheers with a bit of showboating, singer and guitarist Kerr certainly dominated the stage, but there’s only so much talking Royal Blood’s swagger can do without having to listen to the comparatively limp lyrics.

Temples are a completely different brand of hairspray. 70s sepia bathes the stage and sunny psychedelica rolls out over the Academy crowd after a bit of unfortunate feedback plagues the first couple of songs. Thankfully, this leads into the standout songs of the set (and arguably, album): ‘Move with the Season’ and ‘Shelter Song’.

At last, Interpol take to the stage, and automatically the atmosphere turns up ten notches. Without dismissing the other bands in the slightest, there was a sense of ‘oh, this is what we’ve been waiting for’. Seamless interchanges from Antics classics like ‘Evil’ and ‘Slow Hands’ over to songs from the stellar-sounding new album are filled with the same latent sexuality that ripples on record. This is still a powerfully relevant band that owned the headline spot masterfully. By the encore, Temples-loving freshers were jumping around with hardened Interpol fans, the force of an incredible headliner getting the better of everyone in the Academy. Four hours down and still moving? NME, you’ve done it again.

NME Tour 2014 at the 02 Academy 27/3/2014

You might have some prejudices about the NME Tour even before you see the line-up. The NME? Can their choice of bands really still be relevant? Won’t it be full of studenty teens? Do they have an ambulance on hand for twats who dance at the front for four hours? Well, yes, yes, yes… and no (the last one learned the hard way.) Please, cast your aspersions aside for now. The NME tour is a great way to get some sparkling new bands down you and see a killer headliner to boot.

Unfortunately, we’re still a long off way from headliners. To take the edge off, Circa Waves get the classic ‘brand new chancers’ slot and charm the crowd with some fast paced, good old-fashioned garage indie. They’re not treading new ground here, but sheer force of personality turns what could sound overdone into music that’s unapologetically fun, young and great to watch. They’re exactly the kind of burgeoning talent that this slot is reserved for, and with a debut album in the works this year, they’re one to keep an eye on.

Up after, Royal Blood. So much bravado joined this duo onto the stage, there just had to be a massive sound to back it up. Not to disappoint, huge sweeps of Zeppelin-inspired guitar teamed with mammoth drums delivered ear damage to the baying crowd. It was a show hard to keep your eyes off, and there was plenty of showmanship and confidence on stage, but it knocked a bit hollow as an overall performance. As he encouraged cheers with a bit of showboating, singer and guitarist Kerr certainly dominated the stage, but there’s only so much talking Royal Blood’s swagger can do without having to listen to the comparatively limp lyrics.

Temples are a completely different brand of hairspray. 70s sepia bathes the stage and sunny psychedelica rolls out over the Academy crowd after a bit of unfortunate feedback plagues the first couple of songs. Thankfully, this leads into the standout songs of the set (and arguably, album): ‘Move with the Season’ and ‘Shelter Song’.

At last, Interpol take to the stage, and automatically the atmosphere turns up ten notches. Without dismissing the other bands in the slightest, there was a sense of ‘oh, this is what we’ve been waiting for’. Seamless interchanges from Antics classics like ‘Evil’ and ‘Slow Hands’ over to songs from the stellar-sounding new album are filled with the same latent sexuality that ripples on record. This is still a powerfully relevant band that owned the headline spot masterfully. By the encore, Temples-loving freshers were jumping around with hardened Interpol fans, the force of an incredible headliner getting the better of everyone in the Academy.

Metronomy at the O2 Academy Bristol 24/3/2014

Love Letters is another beauteous beam of sonic light borne straight from the stupendous head of Joe Mount. It’s full of the same pathos and heart-swilling, gut-tingling familiarity as 2011’s fawned over The English Riviera, and it’s all transmitted in the best muddle of summertime sadness, falsetto and misty-eyed guitars likely to grace 2014. As a live show, it’s even better.

The O2’s failings as a venue aside (turn a bloody air-con on once in a dream, guys!), it managed to attract the best kind of crowd on Monday. Almost brash in their love for the band, every song was received with rapturous applause, stamping of feet and a sense of almost Christmassy glee. Early on the audience made their mark on the material: ‘Love Letters’ inspired what must be the most polite moshpit ever evinced, and the opening of classic ‘The Bay’ received a twee football chant makeover. What was most striking was these shenanigans weren’t even annoying. What could have been a genuine pain in the back teeth was a genuine laugh. The (yes, studenty, but don’t hold it against them) crowd was just trying to convey their love vibe to the equally enthusiastic band.

The sheer force of bassist Adelekan’s smile could have powered solar panels up and down the country, and drummer Prior’s party trick seemed to be drumming like a demon with her eyes closed while both singing like a dream and grinning non-stop for the duration of the set. Although Mount’s onstage chat was dross at best (even he was embarrassed of it!) he’s completely charming and Cash on keys played the awkward showman to Mount’s modest ringmaster to a tee as Mount lead the band from classic to future classic.

‘…every song was as slick as the band’s outfits’

Instrumental ‘Boy Racers’ sounded incredible as the bass induced epiphanies on the dancefloor and ‘Month of Sundays’ made a convincing chorus choir of us all. Every song was as slick as the band’s outfits, and every turn was as confident as their touting of ‘I’m Aquarius’ as the first glimpse into this exceptional new album’s endlessly irresistible oddities. Metronomy made a stamp on Bristol’s heart this Monday, I can only hope this love letter to the most interesting band around can start to make one on yours.

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.

Connan Mockasin at The Fleece 20/1/2014

Oh Connan, who knew you were so dreamy? Thy eyes are sapphires, thy teeth like ivory! Thy little pencil moustachio… okay, that thing is still a little creepy. Despite his questionable upper-lip-dusting, Connan Mockasin emerged as unexpected sex icon on Monday night. His super-chill  70s porno vibe had the ladies of The Fleece a-swooning despite themselves, even coaxing a couple of admirers into mounting the stage in a kind of saccharine rapture. The female consensus outside the gig was a definite and surprising ‘I would’.

Even more unexpected was how much I laughed. Connan is honest to god hilarious. His comic timing is impeccable and he’s incredibly self-aware. His matchy-matchy white-attired band and his ever-so-slightly inscrutable song titles make you think that Connan could be a bit aloof and up himself, but pleasingly, he is the complete opposite onstage. Charming the crowd with an ‘I love you Bristol’ in that NZ accent and a sultry suggestion to ‘please, take it off’ during ‘It’s Called Choade My Dear’, you could pretty much hear The Fleece’s panties drop.

Maybe it was his warm but weird outward appearance that made it seem okay for people to get onstage to try and get freaky with him, but this stuff is so, so uncool in my eyes. Mockasin is incredibly talented and the band’s sound was supremely on point- just because he makes some jokes and tries to interact doesn’t mean you can take advantage and fuck around with his set. He managed the unwelcome guests with total class, but it must be disconcerting to have an obviously drugged up girl in your grill when you’re trying to get through a concert only to have another rogue loon attack your drums straight after. Even more upsetting was the dribbler who was getting his kicks by harassing the lady singer as she was performing in the audience. Really bad egg, that one, and lucky not to get a smack from the far lovelier crowd who pulled him away from the delightful but understandably phased young lady.

Ignoring all that toss (as it deserves to be ignored) it was one of the most surprising gigs I’ve been to in a long time, and in all the right ways. I’ll be gabbing about this a long time after and I’m sure a cut-out of Connan will live under my pillow at least until I can get onstage with him again. I mean, what?