Tame Impala - Live Review

Tame Impala, Alexandra Palace, London – psychedelic cult heroes prove their arena credentials with kaleidoscopic performance 

****

For a band that’s plied their trade so heavily on introversion and isolation, Tame Impala’s glacial synths and technicolour melodies translate remarkably well to Alexandra Palace’s 10,000-strong capacity. Parallel to their chameleonic sound, the set proves a thumping, glittering disco, a synth-drenched chill-out and raucous psychedelic carnival in equal measure. ‘Mind Mischief’ and ‘Apocalypse Dreams’ become sprawling kaleidoscopic jams; ‘The Moment’ and ‘The Less I Know The Better’ flaunt Parker’s penchant for crystalline “dorky, white disco funk”; respective curtain raiser and closer ‘Let It Happen’, ‘Same Person, Old Mistakes’ homogenous of Kevin Parker’s musical schizophrenia. A once-withdrawn, sheepish frontman, Parker now makes for suitably laidback stage presence - though he does remain something of a timid and stretched live vocalist. But where he was once demure and apologetic, Parker now coasts the stage; orchestrating his band and fevered congregation simultaneously. Material left missing from the set is similarly telling of the band’s rapid ascent. An array of their finest material and fan favourites including - to name but a few - Solitude is Bliss, ‘Cause I’m a Man, Half Full Glass of Wine, Music to Walk Home By, Disciples and Lucidity find no place in a 16-song set that gives ample airing to each of the band’s records. But it’s striking how naturally Tame Impala’s meticulous, inward music translates to a huge venue. Soaked in reverb, fuzzy distortion and set to hypnotic big-screen colour, the band prove as engrossing to thousands as they do through headphones. ‘It Is Not Meant To Be’ glides, ‘Elephant’s behemothic stomp is received to rapturous reception, and ‘Feels Like We Only Go Backwards’ takes on new life as an arena-sized anthem. But Alexandra Palace is undeniably the showcase of a band at the peak of their formidable powers - and Parker, Tame Impala’s introverted architect, takes on a newfound swagger. You’d be hard-pressed to say it doesn’t suit him. 

Julia Holter - Live Review

Julia Holter, Engine Rooms, Southampton – posturing and pretentious, compelling and complex

****

Julia Holter’s uncompromising hybrid of classical, pop and jazz isn't exactly noted for its immediacy or accessibility – indeed, the LA-based CalArts graduate does little to dispel her reputation as an avant-garde academic. She introduces ‘Lucette Stranded on the Island’ as “a song about being cut adrift and alone on an island… imagine if you were alone on island?” in an icy, apathetic drawl, casting a cool gaze over Southampton’s Engine Rooms. A charming, intimate venue – where the occasional chink of bottles at the bar is as audible as the musicians on stage – there is slight bemusement at Holter’s existential musings. “Sucks to be you!” she adds dryly, and perhaps a little self-consciously. But ‘Lucette Stranded’, apparently based on a minor character in the Colette novella Chance Acquaintances, proves a lucid blur of spoken word, orchestral and choral; coasting, twisting and blossoming into the melancholic chorus: "Oh she's been marooned... can anybody help her?" Then the penultimate ‘Goddess Eyes’ somehow channels Kate Bush's Kid A, as does the 7-minute jazz-epic ‘Vasquez’. Make no mistake, this is pretty heavyweight stuff. But patience - as they say – is a virtue, and beneath Holter’s high-brow surface lies a seemingly supernatural force and gorgeous, potent melodies. Take ‘Silhouette’s daydream-turned-nightmare: underpinned by Devin Hoff’s dancing double-bass, it proves the perfect platform for Dina Maccabee’s ethereal yet tormented viola and Holter’s haunting refrain: "He turned to me then looked away / A silhouette / A silhouette... still returns to me." It's a genuinely gripping, powerful moment. Curtain call ‘Sea Calls Me Home’ and ‘Everytime Boots’ flaunt her skill for an infectious chorus, offset by the other-worldly ‘Vasquez’ and sorrowful ‘How Long?’. The bulk of the night’s set compromises songs from last year’s acclaimed Have You in My Wilderness, a record noted by critics for an accessibility and pop-sensibility missing from previous records; much like St. Vincent’s eponymous album released a year previously. But it proves a spellbinding set awash with enchanting vocals and beautiful melodies – and when all’s said and done, what could be more accessible than that?

Bloc Party - Live Review

Bloc Party review - the last wet fart of a rotting corpse

O2 Guildhall, Southampton – 30^th January 2015

Back after three years in the wilderness, the infamously fractious Bloc Party headline the NME Awards tour on supposed return to form. With latest album Hymns released a day previously, a new line-up and something of a return to the indie-dance of beloved early records A Weekend in the City and Intimacy, common logic dictates 2016 would breathe new life into the band after a lengthy hiatus. Founding members and mainstays Kele Okereke and Russell Lissack are joined by glossy new rhythm section Justine Harris and Louise Bartle on bass and drums respectively, and the band’s set list gives equal airing to the oft-maligned new material – half the set compromises songs from Hymns and 2012’s savaged, Nirvana-mimicking Four – and the heavyweights of yesteryear (Helicopter, Ratchet and This Modern Love). However, what pointed to a glorious comeback amounts to little more than Okereke’s tired secondary solo project; and seems like the latest low point for a band stuck in seemingly terminal decline. But perhaps most dishearteningly, a band that resonated so strongly with their young audience spend 70 minutes going through the motions with the same crowd nearly a decade later. A plodding, static set falls noticeably, uncomfortably flat - met by little but the occasional, seemingly obligatory mosh-pit. Then the band’s beloved 00s material recedes to little more than so much of the landfill-indie churned out the same decade, and Hymns’ (Virtue, The Good News and Different Drugs) both impressively and depressingly manages to sound dated a day after its release. Okereke makes admirable, but nonetheless fruitless, effort to psych and pump Bloc Party into life. But aside from Banquet and Ratchet’s lively curtain-call, it dies a sad death; and the punters filter out of the Guildhall like bored rats fleeing a moored ship.

Interview - Fun Lovin' Criminals

Fun Lovin’ Criminals’ Frank Benbini / ‘I’ll always play music, because it’s my way of beating the system in a crazy world.’

Ahead of the 20^th anniversary tour of 1996’s debut Come Find Yourself, proud Leicesterian and Fun Lovin’ Criminal “Uncle Frank” is in reflective mood

 

From left: Brian Leiser, Huey Morgan, Frank Benbini

“With the velocity of the Criminals over the years, its miracle of self-combustion! So it’s definitely a celebration. I’m looking forward to it.” Frank Benbini is feeling boyish. Looking ahead to the upcoming tour ‘An Evening With The Fun Lovin’ Criminals’, Uncle Frank has deemed it an appropriate time for a nostalgic look back at his career. Spanning over two decades, it’s one that started in the dingy backrooms of Nottingham’s Rock City; and taken him touring the globe with the Criminals. “It’s funny… it was there (Rock City) about 20 years ago when I bumped into this dude who goes by the name of Fast. I was chatting away with him, we hung out, and they all came down afterwards. And that was my introduction to Fast, and Huey and Steven… I was hanging with the Fun Lovin’ Criminals. And it kind of went from there, to spending the last 15 years on the road with now my band.”

The brash, swaggering style of their debut – an eclectic blend of hip-hop, rock, soul, blues and jazz – saw them dubbed the 90s’ answer to The Beastie Boys. Joining the band in 2003, Benbini’s suitably diverse taste and passion for music ensured a seamless transition. “There’s not a style between us we don’t like, but me and Huey have always had a great love for rock music. Fast loves dance, sampling and stuff, and we all have a massive love for hip-hop music. I’m a kid from the 80s, so we grew up as that scene blew up… it heavily influenced us.”

For the Criminals – affectionately dubbed ‘the cousins from New York’ - influence for their music comes from far beyond that of their favourite records, and Benbini is no different. “A lot of our stories and songwriting comes from living your life.” He explains. “We’re not one of these bands that reinvent ourselves every 18 months… we need to go away and live our lives a bit for something to talk about”.

As ‘The Big Apple’ proved a rich source of storytelling for Huey Morgan, the importance of growing up in Leicester proved just as vital for Uncle Frank. “Y’know I grew up…” he pauses for a moment. “I come from a broken family, grew up in council estates, and did a lot of wrong things as I was growing up… and it schooled me. Over the years I’ve had apartments in the States - New York’s my second home - I’m always there, got a second family there, take influences from there. But every race, colour, creed live in my town, and I grew up alongside all of them. A lot of my music has Leicester pulsing through it, for sure.”  That said, his hometown ties aren’t all so sentimental. “I still got a business where my boys run a barber shop, which is majority of the time… a legal barber shop.” He laughs.

But the business side of the industry hasn’t always been so kind to Benbini – he notes a previous lawsuit as his lowest moment in music (“When you first get in a band and start playing, it’s not something you think about… that can really hurt, and make you feel ill with the stress”), but otherwise looks back on a colourful career with pride. “The biggest high is the fact we’re still doing it - and I’m still doing. Y’know I judge success by doing something you love, and I still am – even though I’m 20% bitter and jaded, it’s the 80% that’s proud and very grateful.”

With the Criminals, it’s more satisfying still to look back on a career made on no terms but their own. “And that’s the thing with the Criminal’s records – very real.” Frank says. We don’t do what the record company tells us, we don’t do what management tells us, we just do what we want. You wanna get to the end of your career and you wanna mark these milestones, and we can put our hands up, whether it’s right or wrong - like Frank Sinatra - we done it our way. We did what we wanted to do.” But time is ever-precious for the band, with Huey now an acclaimed DJ for the BBC and Benbini himself juggling his many bands and side projects. For example, it’s been little over a year since the release of Purple Reggae: a unique Rastafarian take on the Prince classic, released under the alias Radio Riddler and featuring the likes of Ali Campbell and Sinead O’Connor. It’s a project Benbini is evidently proud of: “Anybody that knows anything about Frank knows that I’m the biggest Prince fan of all time – that’s no joke - but anyone who knows anything about music knows Prince’s music is not the easiest to replicate. But it was really fun making, and y’know…. people have still got a lot of love for it” But with the Fun Lovin’ Criminals’ last album Classic Fantastic released in 2010, conversation turns to what’s next for both Frank and the band. Uncle Frank acknowledges another Criminals album may well be due. “It could be about time to put another gem down into the system, and work with a lot of friends and see what we can do.” He explains, pausing for a moment. “But I’ll always play music, because it’s my way of beating the system in a crazy world.” 

Fun Lovin' Criminals - 'Scooby Snacks'