A Mixtape Is For Life, Not Just A Boy You Fancy

Unsure as to what the Office Policy is, as regards mp3 hosting, I will, instead, link to my other blog . On it, at the behest of millions (I lie, 3 people, maximum) I’ve made a ramshackle mp3 mixtape. If it was an animal, it’d be one of those sad, malnourished, abused donkeys you see in ads for animal-based charities. It plays very nicely though, once you get through all the internet sticky-tape and superglue that I used to put it together.

Mini music recommendation no: 1 – Nathalie Nahai

I cut my teeth on acoustic music, though I rarely listen to it these days. So much seems repetitious, vapid, self congratulatory. The simple pure beauty of a Buckley track, the spicy outrage of Dylan, the melodic subtleties of Nick Drake, well to be blunt, it’s all been done right? Every now and then however, you hear a voice so clear and elemental, so sweet and fine and effortlessly reflexive, you’re forced to stop and listen. Off you go and listen to the folksy alt-country Nathalie Nahai.

Lazy Post Alert

At present I’m alternating between being grumpy, writing essays, and grumpily writing essays. So, I merely reccommend that you go here and listen to The Twelves remix of ‘I’m not going to teach your boyfriend how to dance with you’. And, in fact, all the other tracks there.

Also, here’s some Swedish tweecore. In Swedish. The translated title is ‘Nobody Cares Where You Bought Your Sweater’. I think I will try and use it in conversation with a Swede in the coming future. Though I’m sure my pronunciation will leave much to be desired.
[youtube:http://ie.youtube.com/watch?v=-vACnVGoupA]

Life is all about balance…

Hip-hop shows can be quite hit and miss. Unfortunately, I’ve been to more bad shows than good shows, so when a good one comes along it’s hard to tell whether it’s only good insofar as it’s not as bad as something else. This weekend, I had the (mis)fortune of going to two shows, one bad, one good, but even without the other each show stood alone in its respective successes and failures.

On Friday I went to see DJ Shadow and Cut Chemist’s The Hard Sell show. Long sold out, I was lucky to get a ticket about an hour before the doors opened. The evening started well, with a great support slot from Kid Koala, a Canadian DJ whose skills are best demonstrated by this video.

The main event was, to say the least, a disappointment. On Thursday night I foolishly had a listen to the show’s CD, which, though quite indulgent and just a bit lacking in focus, was interesting, if nothing else. Unfortunately, that CD is exactly the same as the show I saw on Friday. The premise of The Hard Sell is that the two DJs are playing nothing but 7” records, which is more taxing due to the smaller size of the records. That’s all well and good, and it’s admirable that they’re trying to challenge themselves. They may as well have sat at home in their bedrooms doing it though, because it seemed that they were the only people getting any enjoyment out of it. “Welcome to The Hard Sell,” said Cut Chemist at one point, “the show where you’re not sure if you’re being educated or entertained.” If they had taken a little bit more time to focus on one or the other of these angles, the results could have been mesmeric, rather than just plain confusing.

Edan’s show last night, however, was mind-blowing. One of my biggest regrets of recent times is missing his show in Crawdaddy in October 2006, but thankfully this year I have the chance to see him twice (last night and next May at Primavera). He raps. He mixes. He raps and mixes – cutting and rhyming as he calls it. He dances. He plays guitar and kazoo. He plays theremin. When was the last time you saw a rapper perform with a theremin? How many rappers would you say even know what a theremin is?! Then there was his rendition of Rock and Roll (performed acappella, no less), during which his on stage cohort Dagha held up a pile of classic rock records, from LA Woman to Remain in Light, and even In The Court of The Crimson King, removing each one in time to complement the lyrics. I’ve gone in search of a Youtube to illustrate my point, but alas my search is in vain. It was pretty awesome anyway. The show was undoubtedly one of the best hip-hop performances I’ve ever seen, and it completely blew that of Shadow and Chemist so far out of the water I almost forget I was out Friday night. Until I see the rather gaping hole in my wallet that is…

Springtime Sessions

So it’s that time of year again. Paddy’s Day is just around the corner and there’s a hell of a lot going on over the bank holiday weekend to cater for those in search of a good session. Pints aside though, there are also quite a few good gigs going on over the next few days, starting off with DJ Shadow and Cut Chemist playing the Ambassador tonight. Anyone fortunate enough to have a ticket should be preparing themselves for a night of quirky instrumental hip-hop and an awesome live show. Go forth readers and dance.

Sunday night sees a triple whammy of gigs as Michael Mayer and Hercules and Love Affair take over Spy, The Fall play Tripod and the Pod hosts the first Bacardi B-Live party of 2008. Although HALA are only playing a DJ set in Spy, I’d be interested to see what gets played. Made up of a loose collective of friends including Anthony Hegarty of Anthony and the Johnsons and producer Andy Butler, HALA are signed to hipper than thou New York record label DFA and are causing quite a stir amongst music bloggers the world over. Certainly one to watch.

I’m going to be heading pod-wards on Sunday however to see Australian electro-rock duo The Presets. Citing a rather diverse range of influences from dark rock all the way through to disco with training in classical music thrown in for good measure, the band’s live shows are said to be energetic, thrilling and more than a little bit unpredictable. Support on the night comes from UK hip hop maestro DJ Format (whose Fabriclive album is definitely worth a listen) and Disco Brasil. Expect an eclectic mix of hip-hop, soul, baile funk and electro. And all for only 20 quid!

Ugly Megan

Ugly Megan may be moving to Canada.

There is no bigger bombshell the Waterford-based duo could have dropped on our first meeting. As Orlando (guitars, vocals, and newly-bought MicroKorg) relayed the couple’s plans to move abroad for art college this summer I felt a distinct tearing pain in my chest. It’s akin to your fourth-class first crush moving to the school down the road as soon as you’d plucked up the courage to carry her bag home for her. Sure, she’ll have a better standard of education and she’ll be wearing a prettier school uniform but you can no longer gaze at her longingly across the maths book you share every friday. I have fallen head-over-heels in puppy love with Ugly Megan. I sleep with their songs rotating in my brain, I dream of each dreamy melody they’ve concocted, and sometimes I bring their photographs into the bath with me.

Being as addictive as Pokemon Silver, twee as a tea party, and wide-eyed as a coke-fuelled Bambi it would be all too easy to cast aspersions on the artistic viability of the Megans. Quite frankly, artistic viability can go fuck itself. Covering Snoop Dogg on nothing but an acoustic guitar and a Yamaha transcends art; it is, rather, utter genius. I can only imagine Ugly Megan pulling it off with such aplomb. Their hallmark breathy boy-girl vocals and simple melodies rework D Oh Double G to an undiscovered level of tweeness, though an unconscious tweeness at that. Being so prettily dressed, stumbling over their words onstage, and decking their tables out with plastic dinosaurs, toy cameras and fairy lights would be slightly nauseating if it were not so uncontrived. It helps that they spin off into bad-mouthed choruses in their songs. For every “I love you” there’s a “shake that ass bitch and let me see what you got”.

Having only known each other about a year, it’s compelling to watch how in-tune they are onstage. My first Ugly Megan experience was in the Back Loft, playing at a book launch for Oisin Byrne. The hall filled with new-age hippies and art fashionistas in equal measure, it was difficult to know how their set was going to go down. However, three songs in the dynamic had been established: a white-robed chorus of Mother Nature’s children danced around the band’s humble table, while the well-dressed kept a little more distance, but smiled and bopped heads appreciatively. It was overwhelmingly obvious that both Kathi and Orlando were crippilingly nervous, but somehow this only added to their charm. While they share indiscernable mutterings and shaky smiles in between songs, the actual tracks exude a confidence by contrast. Karl Mac used the Moldy Peaches as a touchstone for UM comparisons, and it’s an apt one. There is a Beat Happening simplicity and ramshackleness to their songs that they marry with an Arts & Crafts copyrighted dynamic that intermingles with their Kimya-and-Adam straight-up sincerity, however, that makes them that little more distinctive.

The second show was this week’s Casiotone For The Painfully Alone support slot. Having played Whelans on New Years night, supporting Jape (they chatter excitedly about meeting Richie Egan’s mum backstage) one might have expected a higher level of confidence returning to familiar territory. Not so. Kathi’s legs shake under the table, and Orlando avoids the gaze of the crowd, staring at his guitar throughout. Nevertheless, the reception is even more rapturous than before. Their “Fresh Prince Of Bel Air” cover is punctuated by whoops, and every song cheered swellingly immediately afterwards. Humbleness, said Margot Asquith, is the first element of greatness. It’s easy to understand then, what makes Ugly Megan so fucking fantastic.

But it’s all going to end soon. “Hopefully we’re leaving Ireland, but we’re definitely leaving Waterford.” Despite what they describe as “some amazing bands” cohabiting the county with them (such as Dae Kim, and Kathi’s own classmate’s Megan rap-dance project You’re Only Massive) there is as much merit in “playing in an alley with a few cans” as in their venues, populated by Stairway to Zeppelin the last time Orlando visited, and they are cursed to never play Cork thanks to over-zealous over-18s rule enforcement. If Canada does indeed call when the CAO results come out, I’ll be at the airport bidding a tearfilled goodbye.

Myspace

This week I have mostly been listening to…

…Vampire Weekend. Yep these guys are class. The name nearly put me off at first but the album is so addictive I soon got over that. Apparently the band is named after a film they once made together. I don’t think there’s any Dublin gigs on the cards yet but who knows, maybe they’ll pop along to a festival during the summer.

APunk

And The Kids Don’t Stand A Chance live on the Paris streets from la blogotheque…

I love the way the drummer,Chris Tomson is playing a wheelie bin!

Shiny Happy People

Bluebirds are so natural is my new blog. It’s full of moderately attractive people wearing very good clothes. or, at least, it will be soon. Until then, you’ll have to make do with the above picture wot I gained by Googling ‘moderately attractive people’. And also the below obligatory youtube clip of pretty people. They’re not actually pretty, just excessively thin.

[youtube:http://youtube.com/watch?v=qD8TieAvSSY]

Is it blindingly obvious that this post is nothing but an exercise executed by Gareth to, finally, teach my how to use the blog? Yes.

The Real Heat

It sounds like a pitch for a show on children’s television- ‘Imagine 3 sisters. And they’re in a band. A rap band. A pop-rap band. And they’re from London. And they manage themselves. And they’re into fashion. I’m thinking funky clothes- like P.V.C pink thigh-high boots.’ While one is unsure as to how the executives at Nickelodeon would favour P.V.C. fetish footwear, it is a certainty that the Real Heat were made for the entertainment industry. The Real Heat’s origins are as organic as it gets. Sisters Shaki, Zaza and Suki make dirty, sexy witty electro-pop-rap records. They write the music themselves. They write the lyrics themselves. Yet, they’re still not quite sure how they became a band- ‘we all got our studio equipment, and then we all started writing together and then after that we were like ‘oh, we’re a band now!’ We have music wars still, like blasting out different types of music around the house, and my mum gets all like “argh!”‘ When lyrics are written, it’s a collaborative effort, though sometimes unknowingly. In a scenario that could be take straight from a Nickelodeon show; they relate how most of their song lyrics come about. Zaza begins- ‘We all have our own notebooks or something.’ Shaki interjects- ‘One of us might write something’. Zaza cuts in ‘-and leave it on a bit of paper-’. Suki laughs, saying ‘- and the other will find it, and be like, this is good!’ Zaza, now also laughing, continues ‘and someone will be like that’s personal! They’re my personal words! Why are you singing them? And they’ll be all ‘ah shut up, this is good!’ Shaki, finishes the imagined conversation, giggling –‘and they’re like “but I didn’t mean that when I was writing it!’’

It’s difficult to separate the Real Heat’s physical presence from their music. Resplendent in chains, leather, fishnets and pink lip gloss, the trio are a walking photo-shoot. When asked if they feel that they could perform while wearing tracksuit bottoms, their answer is surprising- Zaza has previously appeared on stage in leisure-wear. Although, ‘these are ¾ length silver tracksuit bottoms, with silver stripes and studs on them. Excuse me, they’re not velour.’ Shaki explains further, ‘We’ve always enjoyed clothes and dressing up and stuff. Tracksuit bottoms are for when you’re going to the gym, and when you want to get out quickly. They’re not for the stage. I don’t think image is anything to do with it though. Before we did music, we always dressed up, so I think that when it comes to having a stage show, and performance, it’s nice to be able to put on a show. Like, when you go out raving with your friends you make a bit of an effort, you know? Just to feel nice, it’s fun, you know? It’s cool that people associate that with us, and notice that we make an effort and that.’

Though they’re often pitched as the anti-Sugababes, the Real Heat are comfortable being filed under pop music. Their early live repertoire included some brave pop cover versions- ‘One of the first things we did with Richard (X), we did a cover of ‘Criticize’. That was quite funny. We did Bohemian Rhapsody for our live sets before, but we’ve stopped doing it now. We had a band, and re-jigged the music a bit, and sang it in a more soulful’. Richard X has produced some tracks on their album, and the girls are willing to work with anyone that they find interesting, apart from Mark Ronson- ‘He’d be all like “I’m Phil Spektor. I’m gonna put some, like, bells on your track.” I do like his stuff though.’ However, they’re adamant that they’re not going to change their sound drastically for the sake of a successful record- like Estelle did on her Kanye West track. Suki notes that Estelle ‘does sound a little Lily Allen-ish.’, while Shaki adds that ‘it’s a little dumbed-down, cause she’s got a really nice voice. I guess you’ve got to sing accordingly to the track, but I don’t think we’d go for a whole change.’ Zaza, who is in the middle age-wise, and the diplomat of the three, concludes that ‘our personalities are all quite strong, so it’s not going to be that easy for us to turn into something completely different.’

It would be easy to gloss over the business savvy that the trio display. They sacked their manager after 6 weeks, because they had ‘different goals’. When I ask whether they could see themselves existing as a band in another decade, Shaki rejects the 60’s as being ‘too oppressive. Not that many female producers and stuff. Definitely different challenges for female artists at that time.’ Suki is incredibly goal-orientated- a trait not common in her fellow members of the NME’s ‘Cool List’ of 2007- and admits that ‘it does make things easier having a good manager, because you can just concentrate on doing you music, and you don’t have to do a lot of stuff. We want to be successful, obviously, and sell shit-loads of records, and tour the world and stuff like that. Those are, like natural progressions.’ The Real Heat’s manifesto is as fun on the outside, and driven on the inside as the sisters themselves: Suki shouts ‘Lick me out!’, then Zaza intervenes, saying, ‘the serious one is-’, leaving Shaki to finish with ‘stand for something or fall for anything’, before Suki cuts back in with a final ‘lick me out!’, ensuring that the interview concludes with a tri-fold giggling fit.

Thanks to Allison Paisley for the photos.

Boredom in the Antarctic

Boredom can lead to terrible things. However it can have unexpected results if properly channelled. So to complement Gareth’s post below about Sigur Rós’ movie Heima, I bring you to other end of the earth to showcase the results of boredom, in just as breathtaking surroundings, at the south pole.

At the British Antarctic Survey’s Rothera Research Station a group of scientists recorded a great song made entirely with household implements and the few acoustic instruments they had to hand. They then filmed a short video for it and uploaded it to YouTube for the world’s perusal. Considering how it was made it’s actually a lovely track.

Who ever said there was only one cure for boredom?

Warning: there’s no sound for the first bit so don’t blow your eardrums by turning the volume up.

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