Enter Shikari / The King Blues, 18 August 2010 , Preston 53 Degrees

I would be quite interested in seeing some statistics based upon Enter Shikari's live shows. Whilst they all seem to encapsulate what the youth of today at least think it means to be young, it must leave a number of the audience completely disenfranchised, and confused to what exactly is going on. But most of all, what I'd really like to see is the percentage of people who have only ever been to one show; and forever scared of being anywhere a mosh pit.

Whilst the hordes of Enter Shikari fans, they like to call themselves 'Lions', are pretentious and insufferable, they do have a welcome, if not slightly annoying, habit of turning up nice and early for the gig. Despite arriving 20 minutes before doors, myself and my companion found ourselves at the back of the line, lost in a sea of stupid haircuts, skinny jeans and camera flashes as teens documented what was apparently the best night of their life's; including the line, the venue exterior, the venue interior, posters, set lists times, the lights....

A way to pass the time is a 'Spot the best t-shirt' competition, and ponder whether or not the wearer actually liked the band, or simply just the t-shirt itself. I sincerely doubt that any of 'the Lions' truly appreciate The Misfits, The Ramone's, or the obscure Australian hardcore band The Ghost Inside, but you never know.

A side effect of their prompt arrivals, however, was that I only caught the death throes of the local openers, Tyler Mae, although this may have been a blessing in disguise. The electronic based group seemed to be pressing effects button at random, and doing their best to hype up the crowd by constantly mentioning Enter Shikari. It was an audio mess, and how they are getting away with opening for bands like Enter Shikari, and soon Does it offend you, yeah? I do not know. Maybe I just 'don't get it'.

Second up was The King Blues, no doubt feeling somewhat out of place in the line-up consisting of electronic music, and still playing their traditional punk pop.

The King Blues have stagnated of late, their older fans no doubt wanting a return to their politically charged dub-punk of their first album, Under The Fog, rather than the more inoffensive and mainstream oriented sequel, Save The World. And by looking at their insult of a minuscule 5 song set list, with no songs from their first album, consisting of previous singles, and what they hope to be future singles, it's clear that they have no interest in ever being called 'punks' again.

The audience didn't help either, it was clear by the fact that they were chanting for the headliners even before the band before them came on, and a total of 2 King Blues shirts seen in the crowd, including my bootleg one, that there was only one band they cared about tonight; the overheard confused conversations about Itch's (The King Blues frontman) criticism of the BNP on the way home only enforced this. The King Blues don't belong here, and until they realise this and return to their punk roots, I'm sure they'll become yet another of those 'flavour of the month' bands and achieve great success, but cursed to be eventually forgotten.

The King Blues of late have been very 'safe'; playing only the songs they think there crowd have heard of, and leading to a competent, but somewhat stifled performance. I couldn't help feel they were only trying to make new fans tonight, instead of repaying the old ones for their support all these years. Maybe this will change when they headline their own gig, or maybe they're now too 'popular' to take risks anymore.

And then we get to the main feature of the night, or the only feature to some people. You can tell this by the sharp increase in obnoxious and annoying screaming, and the sharp rise of the amount of people crammed on 'the dance floor', as the sign on the wall said. And this is where it got messy. As Preston 53 Degrees often caters to club nights, there is a dance floor, only accessible by two small flights of stairs on either side, and fenced off by railings. And when there are too many people in there, people get rammed together, usually having no way to get to off the dance floor, and to the back of the room. Which would be fine, if it was a band that didn't excite its audience into jumping around madly from side-to-side, and creating several permanent 'shoving-pits' across the floor. This is all made worse when the majority of the audience are teenagers unsure what to do in that kind of situation, and a minority who seemingly only care about shoving other people in time to the music.

The first half of their set I spent as close to the front as I could get, but ended up being pushed to the back and saving hapless girls from being crushed. Two songs in one of them fell to the floor, with the rest of the immediate crowd oblivious, or amused, to her peril. Without the brave, heroic and quick-thinking actions of myself and my companion, both being veterans of these sorts of things, it could've ended badly. In fact, things did end badly for a girl standing right next to me, who seemingly fainted, and had to be dragged out of the uncaring onslaught of the 'Lions'.

The reason that the description of the crowd annoying antics is so in depth, is because that's how I spent the majority of my night; being shoved across the room endlessly. I eventually got bored of saving girls who probably didn't deserve being saved, nevermind being thanked for my efforts. So, for the first time in my life, I left the pit and walked to the back of the room. From there the band could finally be seen properly, showing me that they still haven't lost any of that aggression and all around energy that catapulted them into the limelight them surprisingly long years ago. Amps were scaled and the front row had to deal with the screams from their hero frontman, as well dealing with the occasional stage dive. The endless banter between the crowd only served to drive them even more insane, with even the furthest back fans still jumping around, the relentless and trance-like beats affecting everyone, no matter how far away from the front.

The positive adjectives run out after a while when describing Enter Shikari, trying to describe their music is hard enough, let alone writing something about their ferocious live show. The whole room was under their spell, as well as the hundreds left without a ticket. They are great live, really great in fact, but if you 'don't get ' their music then theres no way you'll understand the cult-like status their live act commands. You'll already know if you want to see them live, regardless of this review. If you don't, put it down to not being a scene-kid, and if you do, please, please, please learn how to mosh properly and safely. For your own sake.

http://www.entershikari.com/

Words: Daniel Waite

The Heartbreaks, The Cold 100, Liar Liar, 5 August 2010, The Deaf Institute, Manchester

I love Indie bands. Love ‘em, I say. I love the earnest ones all the more.

They’re such easy targets.

I write as an ardent gig-goer; one hardened by the desperate struggle to convert an unending procession of dull, uninteresting, suburban, feel-good inadequacy, seemingly all forged by the blacksmith of bad indie (Hello, Salford University) into an erudite and witty commentary; staring all the while at bars, dripping with booze and bursting with sexual possibility… Despite such temptation, I honestly, genuinely stay to the end of each and every band’s set, in case someone punches the singer or something…

Actually, if I’m honest, the gigs are a bit more like this: Hit ‘The Scholar’. Heineken. G&T. Heineken. Move to venue. Wait for first chorus. Leave in disgust. Head to nearest bar. G&T. G&T. G&T. Taxi.

For tonight’s entertainment at The Deaf Institute, the first act up, Liar Liar formed a very handsome sight. My accomplice and I strode into the room mid-set, having been distracted by ‘the talent’ behind the bar downstairs and, while all looked good on stage, the guitars being grasped were more than a little out of tune… Possibly taking their name from a Northern Soul staple, musically, this four-piece actually sit in a loose groove between The Futureheads and The Ordinary Boys. Despite their shameless lifting of Jesus and Mary Chain’s 80s classic Blister in the Sun for one of the songs, I very much enjoyed Liar Liar’s youthful exuberance and wish them luck. Their last song, Seaside Girl, is an indie disco anthem waiting to happen.

Next to grace the stage come The Cold 100. A talented bunch of boys, no doubt; so much so in fact, that I actually though I was watching the head-line act; all the time thinking “I’m sure there are supposed to be four of ‘em, not five” and “They don’t look much like their press shots”…

Stepping aside for a second, before I started this review, I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t mention Morrissey (for reasons I’ll allude to in a minute) but The Cold 100’s vocalist have left me with little choice. The spirit of Moz is strong in the singer of this 5-piece; the mannerisms and voice aped so strongly that the band almost became The Smiths (albeit with that second guitarist that the ‘80s masters really needed). Yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking - I realise that ‘alternative’ musicians define themselves as such by re-arranging that which has come before into something which fits the context of their own environment. Whether such adaption is done out of genuine love, the desire to inspire or simply to cash in on “what’s hot right now” is almost irrelevant. Ideals and dreams are just that; we're dealing with a cold, hard business here. A cold, hard and tremendously fickle business, with fans conditioned to change their minds faster than they change their socks. That’s why Mancunian post-punk worked the first time around. Morrissey and flowers-in-the-waistband routine was so opposed to the masculine strength of punk. Alas, where as the spirit of femininity was once fetishized against the backdrop of punk, it has been so absorbed, recycled and repackaged by the mainstream these days, there’s nothing to react against…

Enough prevarication! The Cold 100 are clearly a talented band, who can all play and sing with good effect, but I want to see them again in six-to-twelve months, when they’ve found their own sound and are not so strongly aping a band that were popular when I was being born… C’mon boys, don’t let me down.

So, to our headline act; The Heartbreaks lead off with Save our Souls which, to my ears, was a resounding little number but not ‘obvious’ enough as the opener to a set, and as a result, fell a little flat. All correct shapes were thrown, expected faces pulled but the song gave nothing for the packed house to hold onto. Normally, as I said at the start, I’d be off at this juncture. If a band don’t have the common sense, nay, decency to lead off with their big tune then I’m disinclined to listen on. But, for whatever reason, on this night I broken golden rule number one and hung around.

I am bloody glad I did too, because tracks two and three in the set were brilliant. Come home Katie and Why do you always make me cry? are absolute pop gems. In the continuing battle against anything ‘twee’, I was immediately set on edge by such light-weight titles but the delivery and arrangements were excellent. The punk roots of the band really shone through in the sweat already flying off the rhythm section, which was a lovely accidental juxtaposition with the beautiful, shimmering vocals. I certainly did not expect to see bass chords being hammered out during what were essentially radio-friendly unit-shifters, but there they were. There were almost tears in my eye. Almost. Why didn’t they start the set like this?!?!

Liar, my dear was the strongest track of the night, from any of the bands. Any attempts I make at describing this beautiful track will be superfluous to requirements, so I’m not going to try. Get on iTunes and buy it, right now. The only thing to take the shine off a beautiful moment was the sound guy boasting the lead vocal to a level where my earplugs were vibrating inside my ears, like two enthusiastic but sadly-misplaced sex aids. Not a pleasant experience.

The evening’s technical fault arrived when the bass guitar died a death. The resultant shuffling of feet in the search for a replacement instrument provided an excellent cig break and, curiously enough, a moment for the smoke machine to ‘pack a mental’. Upon my return to the room, the band was kicking into current single I didn’t think it would hurt to think of you. This is a beautifully-crafted piece of pop music and, despite what’s been previously written in the press about the band, the first time in the set that they actually reminded me of The Smiths. The gems atop the crown were the beautiful backing vocals and the My Bloody Valentine-esque whammy-bar work on the guitar.

For the purposes of this review, the final track was entitled Jealous, don’t you know and it was almost raucous (as raucous as an Indie band can be, at any rate). The bass was burgeoning on classic Stax funk, with the drummer’s left hand high in the air between snare hits, a la any 80s ‘hair’ band you care to mention. The song itself formed a punk groove from the mod-revival era, with a big tip of their collective hat to Messrs Weller and Foxton. Write more like this one and you’ll go far. What a way to end a gig.

Others will tell you this was not, in fact, the end and that the band finished on Eddie Cochran cover; played without enthusiasm to an un-caring audience (aside from two lads dancing at the front); thus taking an excellent Indie gig and throwing right into the toilet. Lies, Lies!! It never happened, excellent guitar solo or not…

To end, I must mention that, in preparation for this review, I actually visited Morecambe where The Heartbreaks hail from and, Ye Gads but it’s a bleak place. Grey sky meets grey sea meets grey concrete. I left with the firm belief that nothing good could possibly be inspired by this place. I was wrong. The Heartbreaks play beautiful music and have the potential to be a very influential band. Whether or not they’ll sell any records themselves, I can’t say but I can tell you that they’ll be in the ‘inspired by’ list for bands of the future.

www.myspace.com/heartbreaksband

Words: Alex Colcombe

Public Image Ltd, 24 July 2010, Liverpool Academy

“This is P.I.L and we don't fuck about with ceremony,” were the opening words from the infamous Johnny Rotten aka John Lydon, lead singer of Public Image Limited. Taking centre stage next to his lyrics on a stand, he almost resembled a preacher, relaying the word of Punk. The days of original punk rock maybe behind us, but for tonight it returned with a vengeance to Liverpool's O2 Academy and hundreds of punk fans come out of retirement to relive its heyday.

Starting the two hour set off with, This Is Not A Love Song, you could see that Lydon had not lost his unmistakable vocals. They may have mellowed slightly with age but still contain the raw punk element of yesteryear, with emotion put into each and every lyric as the set went on and a few funky little dance moves to match.

The crowd were soon in full flow as the set went higher and higher as each electric punk induced track went by with the odd rock riff for good measure until we reached, P.i.L turned the tone on its head completely with tribal beats and raw primal base, this was the start of not one single member of the crowd standing still and it soon turned into a frenzy of aged punks forgetting they are now settled into mid life and saw them return to their youth.

With crowd interactions a plenty and witty put down's, especially to one “ill” member of the crowd, who Lydon kindly dedicated, “A little ditty called Psycho's Path” too. It was banter like this and the undeniable massive personality of John Lydon, that you can't help hanging on his every word, whether it be lyric or witticism and you fully understand why fans have followed P.i.L with undeniable loyalty over the last 32 years and understand the sheer elation on hearing they were reforming in 2009.

Once P.i.L had exited the stage, the crowd refused to move, instead chanting and clapping for more while awaiting the obligatory encore, which we didn't have to wait too long for as they came back on stage, to huge cheers and immediately played the tracks that they are most famous for and the crowd had obviously been waiting to hear, Open Up and Rise.

If you get a chance to catch P.i.L over 2010 before they start touring the USA, I suggest you do, as this will be one night you will never forget.

http://www.pilofficial.com/

Words: Alison Lennon

Photographs: Tom Lennon

Converge w/ Kvelertak, Gaza and Kylesa, 15 July 2010, Manchester Academy 2

Despite having been around for some 20-odd years already, I have to admit that I'm only a recent Converge convert. I blame whoever (erroneously) told me some time ago that they were “just another metalcore band”, which is a surefire way of turning me off from a band. However, after reading some of the praise heaped on Converge's latest album, Axe to Fall, I decided to give it a whirl, and, well, the fact that I'm writing this rather glowing live review now should give you some indication of whether I liked it or not...

Opening tonight is Kvelertak, who are just incredible. Ahead of the show, I decided to the give them a quick listen, but that quick listen turned into non-stop rotation of their self-titled début for about a week; it really is that good. Their sound is rather unique, like a 50/50 split between black metal and hard rock; it's as if Emperor and Thin Lizzy decided to make an album together but couldn't quite agree on things, so decided to just write half each then shoehorn it all together to create one glorious racket. Throw into that mix an extremely tight live performance and some livewire on-stage antics and, without a hint of exaggeration, you have my new favourite band. I'm even sporting the t-shirt as I write.

Next up is Gaza, who slow the tempo down a bit with their brooding and sludgy hardcore. Frontman Jon cuts an imposing figure as he sways back and forth in an almost trance-like state in between blood-curdling screams during the opening track, before slowly but surely becoming more animated as the songs get both livelier and heavier as the set progresses. It's not all slow and melancholy though; Jon takes time out to crack wise about the band's origins (“we're from Utah; we have Mormons and skiing, so if you're ever in Utah, you know, you can chill with skiing Mormons”), and even takes time out to apologise for George Bush's escapades (although, as he quite rightly points out, we “fucked up with Tony Blair too, so we're even.”), before righteously destroying them both with their current album's title track, He is Never Coming Back.

Having developed quite a cult following in the last nine or so years, Kylesa are a headline act in their own right, a notion backed up by the sheer number of Kylesa t-shirts in the crowd, jostling for position amid all the 'Jane Doe' shirts. And, from tonight's performance, it's not difficult to see why they've become such an entity within the underground metal scene. In parts epic and expansive, in other parts face-meltingly heavy, Kylesa's sound runs the gamut of genres, from blues to stoner to prog to thrash and everything in between. You often hear them get mentioned in the same breath as their Georgia stable-mates Mastodon, and having gone through the ranks together, I guess this isn't surprising, but that's not to say they're derivative in any way. Kylesa are definitely doing their own thing, and it is very, very bloody good.

By the time Converge come out, the crowd has grown significantly, and with a relatively short 55 minute set, the band choose not to keep the baying hordes waiting. Frontman Jacob Bannon, complete with 1,000-yard stare and manic grin, bounds out and frantically paces the stage, marking his territory and riling up the crowd for the carnage that's about to ensue, and as the band fly into set-opener Concubine, the mosh pit opens and the limbs start flying. Short set or not, the band still manage to squeeze a good 15 songs into their show, a great deal of which come from new album Axe to Fall, such as Reap What You Sow, Damages and Dark Horse, and 2006's No Heroes, such as Heartache, Hellbound and Lonewolves.

To use an already overused a highly misappropriated word, Converge are just plain awesome. The power, the passion and the aggression that comes across on CD (and it comes across A LOT) is nothing compared to their live show, which is truly saying something. Kurt, Nate and Ben, on guitar, bass and drums, respectively, keep the progressive and heavy hardcore-cum-thrash flowing from start to finish, while Jacob puts so much intensity into his performance that you half expect his eyeballs to pop out at any second.

Whoever decided to put these four bands on the same tour surely deserves some kind of award, as I've rarely been to a gig where every band, even the opening support act, has been worthy of such high praise. It was a pure stroke of genius, and bloodied, battered and bruised, myself and the rest of the sweaty heaving masses leave Academy 2 having surely witnessed one of the gigs of the year.

Words: Mike Parry

Photographs: Gemma Louise Harris

http://www.flickr.com/photos/gemma-louise-harris

One Night Only, 13 July 2010, Manchester Deaf Institute

“omg hes so sexy im gunna die“- this was the phrase a young girl in front of me was texting to a friend as One Night Only graced the stage.

This, coupled with a mass of screaming girls, set my expectations of the band to consist of charisma, thrusting and not a lot of musicianship. I hasten to add I am a fully fledged member of our image obsessed society. I was very much a part of the crowd at Leeds festival 2008 waiting to catch a glimpse of a future face of Burberry; never really taking note of what the band sounded like live.

I expected this gig to leave a (probably) old beyond my years twenty year old sad for days gone by, cherishing memories of being an irritating (if I may say so myself), emotional teenager with the ability to make every lyric sung by any young, good looking male so relative to "what I was going through right then". However, their catchy songs (played impeccably) left me feeling a justified crowd member. Instead of being nostalgic and out of place I was able to enjoy the music.

The singer and guitarist acted out the roles of young indie band to perfection; jerky dancing, fringe sweeping and masses of energy giving the audience exactly what they expected. The intimate space and jumping crowd made the gig feel like a student house party. This resulted in the screaming girls being a part of the fun the band were evidently having on stage and vice versa.

The guitarist's seemingly loose head (it wobbled precariously during thrusts) greatly entertained me and the talented band with a faultless front man shined through the brilliant sound quality of the Deaf Institute.

One Night Only demonstrated the tried and tested equation of tight jeans, teenage angst and effeminacy needed to sell records. However together with great musicianship provided a night out which exceeded my expectations. The band proved themselves to be more than just a pretty face.

I feel a mention to the support act, Leah Mason, must be included. A strong female singer from London who, with aid of her subtle genius and soulful vibe, created a relaxed atmosphere. I’m sure I was not the only audience member who fell a little bit in love with the performance; surprising the audience with her finely honed guitar soloing skills. A live act really worth seeing.

www.onenightonlyonline.com

Words: Rhian Jones

Hungry Pigeon Festival, 30 May 2010, Manchester

A walk around Manchester’s Northern Quarter is never a chore. It is the bohemian area of the city and you are almost guaranteed to stumble upon something of interest on any given night of the year. That promise becomes cast-iron on the last bank holiday weekend of May, the time for the annual Hungry Pigeon festival of (mainly) new music, art, fashion and much more besides.

My first port of call is Band On The Wall, a venue reopened since last year’s festival and a welcome addition to the line-up. Inevitably, things are running a touch late, so I chance upon power-pop three-piece Stella Marconi whilst awaiting my band of choice. They have some extraordinarily long song titles and prove they are no one trick pony when they slow things down for the brooding blues ballad Scenarios. They close with a pulsating cover of Twentieth Century Boy and looking at the band, it is conceivable that this song was released before even their parents were born. The band I have turned up to see is the recently reformed The Second Floor. Their music hints at Jesus & Mary Chain, The Stooges and The Velvet Underground and vocally at both Jim Reid and at times, Lou Reed himself. With their keyboard player unavailable, they play as a three-piece tonight, which results in a set of full-on rock. They close with a new song called Wash Away The Weekend and I am reminded of Supergrass at their mid-nineties peak, which is by no means a bad thing.

Next stop is Moho Live to catch the intriguingly named Catfish & The Bottlemen. The influences here are very obviously Arctic Monkeys and The Libertines and whilst the lead singer is both tuneful and engaging, it becomes difficult to distinguish between the songs. No*Tokyo suffer from poor sound at Night & Day Café, singer Daz Whittaker doing his best to lift proceedings with his prowling intensity. An improvement in the sound coincides with their danciest tune, More Than You’ll Ever Know, Whittaker describing the song as having been written two months too late for the Eurovison Song Contest. Maybe next year, eh lads?

A quick pint at Centro allows a viewing of part of xposed, an exhibition of the pictures of Karen McBride, who has taken some of the most iconic photographs of Manchester bands in the last ten years. Also, at the same venue is a day of unplugged sets, Carjack Malone being onstage as I am passing through. It is impossible to get close enough to hear, such is the size of the gathering in the small downstairs room. The noises emanating from down there suggest that they are going down well.

A return to Night & Day Café is next for one of the day’s main attractions. Liverpool’s Sound Of Guns are rightly making waves at present with their Strokes influenced alternative rock. New single, Alcatraz is a wall of raucous guitar noise and will surely gain them a legion of new fans. Gallantry is cool and menacing in equal measure, whilst Architects is a pure and simple guitar onslaught. Front man, Andy Metcalfe climbs off the stage and onto an adjacent piano during one of the songs, the space seemingly just not large enough for him. This band look the part and sound the part and are most certainly ones to watch over the next few months.

Liam Frost is the star name on the t-shirts and flyers for Hungry Pigeon and it is therefore right that a rare show with the full band draws the biggest crowd of the day at Band On The Wall. The set is pretty evenly split between 2006’s debut album Show Me How The Spectres Dance and last year’s follow-up We Aint Got No Money, Honey, But We Got Rain. The soulful Younger Boys, Older Girls is wry and delicious, whilst the lament of Is This Love? could break even the hardest heart. Held Tightly In Your Fist inevitably suffers from Martha Wainwright’s obvious absence but this is a minor quibble in a stunning set. The band depart mid-set, leaving Frost alone for a three-song solo set, which includes the wordy Skylark Avenue. The band return for a final run of songs, the standout being the bruised love song, Try Try Try. They close, as ever, with The Mourners Of St Paul’s, the closing refrain of “Let the funeral start” being oddly celebratory and sending the crowd happily into the Manchester night.

Anything after Liam Frost almost seems like an anti-climax but it is too early to call it a night. I have experienced a full Kid British set a couple of times now and I am in the minority of people who just do not get it. They seem to ‘borrow’ as much as they create but they have garnered quite a following, so it is with no lack of intrigue that I head back to Moho Live for an acoustic set. Even stripped bare, the songs succeed in whipping up the crowd and I find myself almost succumbing to their songs concerning the dread of work on a Monday morning and being a northerner lost in London. They still owe an awful lot to The Specials but the appeal is slowly becoming more apparent.

A third return to Night & Day Café sees my finale to Hungry Pigeon 2010. The Paris Riots are a local band who are being talked about as the real deal. The rousing Wrecking Ball is a set highlight. Lead singer, Toby Connor, uses the full stage and even emulates Sound Of Guns', Metcalfe by stepping onto the adjacent piano in an attempt to strengthen his connection with the fans. The Indian fools you into thinking you are entering ballad territory, before a crescendo of sound fills the air, whilst the extended jam outro to Hotel Of Infidels has the late night crowd cavorting with abandon.

My stroll around the Northern Quarter is over and it has been an eclectic, enlightening and hugely enjoyable evening. My only hope is that the pigeon is still hungry for more next year.

www.hungrypigeon.com

Words: Mike Nuttall

Hungry Pigeon Festival, 28 - 30 May 2010, Manchester

The 2nd year of Hungry Pigeon came around and we were prepared for 3 days of non stop music and events throughout the Manchester quarter. With headline act Athlete playing on the Saturday on the open air stage this promised to be even better than last year!

Friday saw a variety of acts kick off the festival and, in a major coup for the event, Reverend Sound System played to a packed out Moho, ensuring the crowd wanted more from the remaining 2 days.

Saturday saw a dreary afternoon in Manchester as the rain streamed from the skies but this didn’t deter the crowd from the Piccadilly stage. Though a little lack lustre through the first few acts things picked up when the Jessie Rose Trip took to the stage. Bashing out vocals often likened to Amy Winehouse the rain stayed off and the crowd began to dance. When headliners, Athlete, took to the stage the crowd was both a-plenty and vocal. The band more than rose to the occasion and played a storming set to the willing fans.

Sunday brought, what was for me, the best day of the weekend. Band after band astounded and blew me away. Sound of Guns, Kid British and Paris Riots to name just a few! Hungry Pigeon continues to grow and with it the reputation for not only being one of the best organised events but also one of the more diverse. From the big name acts of Athlete and Kid British through to unsigned acts and bands as well as hosting fashion events and putting on exhibitions from the likes of Karen McBride and Paul Wolfgang Webster, this truly is a unique festival in the heart of a vibrant city. I, for one, cant wait to be there next year.

http://www.hungrypigeon.com/

Words and pictures: Tom Lennon

http://www.thomaslennon.blogspot.com/

The Sugarhill Gang, 27th May 2010, Liverpool Masque

Iconic. Original. Groundbreaking. Probably only some of the words that have described The Sugarhill Gang over the years and they are gracing the venue of The Masque in Liverpool which probably has to be one of the biggest coups of the year for any music venue and the people who have paid to come and see the gang are plentiful so, they too, must know how much of a unique event this is.

Being supported by the excellent Elementals isn’t too bad either. But more of them at a later date as tonight belongs to The Sugarhill Gang. From the moment they enter the stage you know you are going to be in for a great gig and the band don't disappoint.

Playing to the Liverpool crowd, they manage to whip the excited punters into frenzy. Ok, maybe Wonder Mike singing “I’ll buy you a diamond ring my friend” constantly between breaks in the songs eventually gets a tad annoying, but that’s probably the only criticism you can have. Even the band's new material seems fresh, young and vibrant and goes down a storm but obviously the song Apache drives the crowd insane along with Rapper's Delight, which obviously, we have to wait till the end of the set to hear but surprisingly was just another great song in a whole line of songs performed during the night. The Sugarhill Gang seemed to be having just as much fun, if not more, than the crowd themselves and for a group that have been around for 30 years you cannot go away thinking “that was one great gig! How come people half their age can’t do that?”

Words and pictures: Tom Lennon

www.thomaslennon.blogspot.com

No Flash / The Sunshine Underground, 26 May 2010, Manchester Moho Live

There is something about packed out gigs in small, intimate and sweaty venues that engender a sense of camaraderie and togetherness. Unlike an arena gig, there is no opportunity to move to a place with greater space, when from stage to rear wall comprises a heaving mass of bodies. So is the case tonight, as Moho Live welcomes back The Sunshine Underground, out on the road promoting second album, Nobody’s Coming To save You, released back in February. This gig was rearranged from earlier in the month when lead singer, Craig Wellington had a bout of laryngitis. This seems to add to the air of anticipation and the fans are in early, thus ensuring a sizeable crowd for tonight’s support bands to play to.

No Flash are a five-piece band from Manchester who only started gigging in late 2008. Their sound is probably best described as indie-pop with a rock edge. Second song, Penelope is dedicated to “anybody who went to school” and is the poppiest thing they play tonight, making it a contender for a debut single, or at least a free download. Alex Pentecost’s pretty keyboard line drives the melody, while the vocal of lead singer, Ged Hawes reminds of Ian McCulloch. Penultimate song 0:355 has only been written this week and hints at a darker edge to their work and maybe a direction to concentrate on. Elsewhere, the lyrics are a little direct and repetitive to really hold the attention but there is potential here.

Next up are north Manchester’s No*Tokyo. This band are certainly no strangers to the big stage at Moho Live and appear comfortable in front of the large crowd present tonight. Singer, Daz Whittaker, prowls the stage with menace before spending almost as much time on the barrier as the stage in his attempt to engage with the fans of the headline act. It works and they certainly gain some new fans here. “The NME is the enemy” repeats Whittaker after the pleading Renegade, a song concerning the state of the music industry. More Than You’ll Ever Know has Moho Live dancing like it’s Madchester circa 1989, whilst set closer 40 Skies is eight minutes of sky-scraping, space rock.

The Sunshine Underground are introduced to the stage by legendary Manchester DJ, Clint Boon, as the promoter’s favourite band and it is easy to see why. Their sound is on the funkier side of rock and standing still is simply not an option. They race through the set with barely a word between songs, not that their fans mind a bit. It’s all about dancing, no matter how hot the venue. The new songs already feel like classics, in particular recent single, We’ve Always been Your Friends, with its crashing drums and rumbling bass line. Almost impossibly, the temperature in the venue seems to rise even higher as the band crank up the familiar intro to Borders. The venue’s staff respond by handing out free water to the crowd, who accept gratefully without missing a second of the song’s chanted chorus.

“This is The Messiah” growls Wellington before the final song but it’s not clear if he’s talking about the set-closer or guitarist, Stuart Jones. It’s riff-central for the next four minutes as the crowd summon up one more burst of energy. The band depart the stage, leaving the crowd to hug, back-slap and talk excitedly about what they have just witnessed. I suspect that the promoter will already be trying to book his favourite band at this venue again.

www.myspace.com/thesunshineunderground

www.myspace.com/notokyo

www.myspace.com/noflashtheband

Words: Mike Nuttall

The Phenomenal Handclap Band, 20 May 2010, Liverpool Masque

The Phenomenal Handclap Band is quite a mouthful indeed and pretty difficult to pronounce after a few beverages, but lets put that’s aside for now and focus on the music. Hailing from Manhattan and Brooklyn this eight piece are as tight as any three piece band could hope to be.

Taking to the stage at the Masque in Liverpool is an event in itself. With moody and intense sounds emanating from the speaker The Handclap Band enter amidst neon of red light, silently take their places and then suddenly the music kicks in.

If you can imagine a fusion of music from the 50’s,through the hippy era of the 60’s, passing directly through the disco era of the 70’s and landing in the hedonist 80’s then you will have a brief insight into the musical sound The Phenomanel Handclap Band play.

The set builds up then comes back down. With Hendrix licks on the guitar and Prince grooves on the keyboard you can’t help but start moving and swaying to the funk-a-delic rhythm. This is almost like an old school rave, apart from the fact that there are eight talented musicians on stage and not one guy with a glow stick and a Casio keyboard! The audience embrace the music and by the end are yelling for more of the same but alas the set has to come to an untimely end even though you get the feeling they could have stayed up there all night.

One thing is for sure, go to see this band, phenomenal they are and hand clapping you will be

www.phenomenalhandclapband.com

Words: Alison Goggin

Photographs: Tom Lennon

KISS, 10 May 2010, Manchester MEN

I'd never claim to be the biggest KISS fan, nor would I say that I'm ever particularly bothered about on-stage theatrics at gigs (or lack thereof), as I much prefer a band's music to do the talking. However, after seeing KISS tonight, I have to admit that I've been well and truly converted on both accounts as, from the band's over-the-top entrance, through to Tommy Thayer firing rockets out of his Les Paul, Eric Singer's levitating drum kit, Gene Simmons being hoisted to the rafters and Paul Stanley flying out over the audience, it's pure theatre from start to finish.

That's not to say that KISS are all style and no substance, though. Take away the pyros and the acrobatics and you're still left with some highly talented musicians with a back catalogue that consists of pure, unadulterated rock n' roll. Case in point is tonight's setlist, which plays out like a greatest hits CD, offering up the likes of Crazy Nights, Rock and Roll All Night, Lick It Up, Shout it Out Loud, God Gave Rock and Roll to You, Cold Gin, Detroit Rock City, I Was Made for Lovin' You... need I go on? Not only that, considering that this current tour is in support of the band's current album, Sonic Boom, they also take time to squeeze in a few new tracks, such as opening song Modern Day Delilah, I'm an Animal and Say Yeah, all of which stand up well next to the band's classic material.

Having passed up the chance to see KISS at Download in favour of checking out Dillinger Escape Plan on the Third Stage (what can I say? I'm a DEP fiend...), I'm glad I finally got round to ticking KISS off my list. Even if, like me, you're not one to usually be wowed by stage shows, I still implore you to see them should you ever get the chance: you really won't have seen much else like it before.

www.kiss.com

Words: Mike Perry

Photographs: Gemma Louise Harris

http://www.flickr.com/photos/gemma-louise-harris

Florence and the Machine, 7 May 2010, Blackpool Empress Ballroom

Tonight's gig seems to have been nurtured and created specifically to be performed in the Empress Ballroom. The ballroom's chandeliers form a seamless link with the velvet curtain draped stage while the birdcages come stage lights are a nice touch and nod to the vintage. Couple that with a gigantic harp and a string section and you know tonight isn't your average gig. The appearance of Florence Welch, barefooted in a flowing white dress just adds to the rather surreal illusion.


For one woman, tall as she is, to command a stage and room as grand as this is no mean feat. But lets not forget that a Florence and the Machine gig is not your average gig.


Powering her way through Lungs, How and a new song, Strangeness and Charm, she captures the attention of the sellout crowd. Florence cheekily enquires about the sprung dance floor as she heads into Dog Days Are Over before climbing a speaker stack and teaching us all the dance moves. These moves consist of jumping as high as we can and letting the sprung floor do the rest!

You Got the Love is greeted with cheers and roars as the crowd sing every word back to her. After Florence returns to the stage for an encore she introduces the phenomenal band before ending the gig on a rousing rendition of Rabbit Heart. The crowd sing along as she dances her way through the track before waving goodnight to us all as she leaves the stage. Tonight Florence and the Machine captured the heart of Blackpool, come back soon!

http://florenceandthemachine.net/

Words: James Smith

Photographs: Hannah Dornford-May

www.hdminfo.com

The Drums, 7 May 2010, Blackpool Empress Ballroom

As one of the most talked about bands of 2010 it's only fitting that The Drums are opening up for 2009's most talked about act, Florence and the Machine.

Heading onstage to cheers and screams from a half full Empress Ballroom the band greet us with an extended instrumental opening before lead singer, Jonathan Pierce stutted (there is no other word for it...honest!) onto the stage and launched in his, rather interpretive, dance moves.

Now, I've always thought of The Drums as a rather 'Marmite' band. You're either going to love them or hate them. Everyone, it seemed, at the gig tonight is a big fan of Marmite! Dressed to kill, and with the dance moves to match, Pierce is a mesmerising frontman. Alarmingly beautiful to look at with an array of elastic dance moves he captures the attention of the audience. Best Friend drives the crowd wild as the band themselves throw themselves around the stage with remarkable energy.

There's a definite retro feel to this band, they've ignored the current electro revival and have seemingly embraced the 80's with hints of The Cure shining through. Let's Go Surfing, obviously their best known track, is greeted with screams as the crowd bounce around with as much energy as the band themselves.

The Drums' 30 minute set flies by and they leave the stage to shouts of "more" from the guy stood next to me. Probably not a first for a support band but the first time I've heard it. Watch out 2010, The Drums are going to make their mark.

http://www.thedrums.com/

Words: James Smith

Photographs: Hannah Dornford-May

http://www.hdminfo.com/

Young Knives, 5 May 2010, Manchester Moho Live

Fate is a cruel mistress; she proffers up a life of “one crushing defeat after another until you just wish Flanders was dead” (Simpson, H), which can really get to a guy after a while. This premise is easily represented by the hand Fate has seen fit to lay on all vain attempts on the part of your man on the scene to attend gigs at Moho. The previous attempt provided the sight of a fat man in a hat, running (RUNNING!!) across Piccadilly Gardens, some ninety minutes after stage time, to arrive at the venue, red of face, unable to form a sentence, much to the bemusement of the (frankly excellent) door staff: “Guestlist… Bathroom Crooners… Late… Arrrggghhh…”. Needless to say, the set was missed and that was another review which never happened…

Finally, on the fifth of June, in the year of our Lord, Two Thousand and Ten, Fate shone a kind smile…

Upon entered the venue, after first confirming with the aforementioned door staff that one’s name was on the actual guest list, not the "show your arse" list, and passing the smaller room at speed, where unprotected ears go to die, your reviewer and associate headed straight for the bar. At this juncture, a special mention must go to the ladies behind the bar, who win the hotly-contested award for "Most Sullen Bar Staff in an Manchester Indie Club". Cool, crisp pints of Red Stripe were passed with nowt but a scowl. Cheers up lasses, it can't be that bad!

Our headline act punted (in the sense of a boat, not a 4th-down play from the NFL) into the set with a couple of singles, which is always a good shout for a come-back gig and always useful for any reviewers in audience who's mind hadn't previously picked out the name Young Knives from the endless procession of alarmingly tepid, Hoxton-bred, photo-fit indie bands. While we're on the subject of trite indie, can someone please kill Vampire Weekend? Nothing spectacular required; no aircrash or extended kidnap/torture/chamber of razorblade-armed bees routine ("My Stock Answer to everything" - http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2007/jan/22/comment.charliebrooker); just so they're all dead and can never soil a man's beloved iPod with another sick and corrupt piece of unmotivated rubbish.

Anyway, enough aimless and unrelated hate, back to the gig: My six-string brother recognised She's Attracted To long before these ears but it certainly formed a solid start to the set, albeit there was still a bit of audible audience chat circulating before The Decision shuddered into life; For the record, the lyric "If all else fails, I am the Prince of Wales / I am your monarch, supreme monarch" was the straight right-hand jab to win the contest, delivered as it was, like a riding crop to the thighs from a youthful and enthusiastic partner, who shouldn't have knowledge of the darker pleasures... Weirdly sexy, would be a more succinct description; choose whichever you wish, in this spontaneous "buy one, get one free" format of song descriptions.

Glances around my fellow punters made it clear that, even after a lengthy break from live action, these opening numbers had reminded the loyal fans why they loved the tweed-edged post-punk trio in the first place. It is safe to say that their numbers had swelled by two, even at this early stage in the set. As awkward glances had been exchanged betwixt band members during some of the higher vocal passages, after The Decision ended, to no small amount of applause, Henry Dartnall, the band's guitarist, confessed that tonight's gig was their first in 8 months. A unnecessary confession, in the eyes (well, ears) of this reviewer; a trained ear could pick the mistakes but they would be hard pressed.

As the set moved on and as the Red Stripe flowed, one song drifted easily into another. Weekends and Weak Days remains a fun 3 minute burst; I believe an ode to cube farm inhabitants in offices across the land. Perfectly executed, including an impressive collective sprint towards the start, edged slightly by ‘House Of Lords’, on bass guitar.

A song arrived, the name of which wasn’t caught but the essential premise which was of a Saint who left her Saintly role because she missed the 'physical imprint of heterosexual love'!! Now if there's a better song-writing subject for a bunch of unconventionally handsome men, it's not leaping immediately to mind... Ignoring such lustful pretexts, the tune provided a nice break into 6/8. It's always pleasant to see bands branching out from the "our drummer can only count to four" mindset.

I Love My Name sounded a bit confused and hard to decipher. More live work required to develop the material but from what can be read elsewhere on the internets, Moho may have been the song's live debut so this is perhaps to be expected. The rest of the new material worked very well and overall, the band displayed very efficient instrumentation. That sounds like an insult but it is meant in good spirit; It's the excellent vocals and lyrics which lead the way in this band. There was good use of guitar FX, never over-powered the songs and coloured the sound excellently, maintaining the interest levels. One criticism while we're here, dear reader, because it needs to be said: the bass guitar sound was rubbish; like a expensive Persian rug, recently machine-washed at 90 degrees and left to dry in the rain whilst being pounded with the carcass of a dead dog. Sort it out please, lads.

Gosh, that's such a negative end to the review, for that's what this is. It wouldn't be right to stop here, as the gig was excellent; lovely venue, nice beer, exceptional band, good crowd. Weirdly sexy. There, that's a much better ending.

http://www.youngknives.com/

Words: Alex Colcombe

Beardyman, 5 May 2010, Manchester FAC251

Probably one of the most unique acts around at the moment human beatbox Beardyman played FAC251 on Wednesday night. guestlist photographer ,Gareth Hacking headed along to catch the awesome live show in action.

http://www.myspace.com/beardyman