Spot the ginger.

During an interview with Le Loup’s Sam Simkoff last month he underlined the difference between their live show and their buzz album, “The Throne Of The Overlong Album Title“. The album is an exercise in self-control, the performance an exercise in going fucking bananas, he said, with a mite more eloquence. Last night’s Crawdaddy show spoke differently: It was an exercise in control also, but in this instance over the audience.

Providing an utterly rapturous, rhapsodic and religiously fervent show/sermon, Sam (dead ringer for Alexis Taylor, by the way) and his six bandmates could not be but gazed a with mouths agape. Channelling an energy I imagine Godspeed! You Black Emperor also base their live shows on, they reworked all their songs, and gave us a taster of new directions to come. Decidedly more post-rockish and less banjo-centric than on record, their songs swelled where before they induced shivers. To The Stars! To The Night! particularly benefitted from a renovation, and Outside The Car At The End Of The World’s funk jam rejig revealed an unexpected result of experimentation. They even had stage banter (including a bout of calling Simkoff “ginger!” when he mentioned his auburn roots). The perfect formula for the perfect festival hit, and the perfect reason to pick up the album and learn off the lyrics now.

www.myspace.com/leloupmusic
www.leloupmusic.com

What with all the talk of seminal 90’s bands such as Portishead and My Bloody Valentine hopping off hiatus to thrill massive crowds of nostalgic devotees, I think the reunion of a less-appreciated though equally as important act begs to be brought to the public’s attention. That act is B*Witched.

C’est La Vie, Blame It On The Weatherman, Jesse Hold On. These songs were the cornerstones of your childhood if, like mine, your childhood revolved around Top 30 Hits and Damian McCaul on 2FM. Now, thanks to the alignment of fate, you can relive that childhood during DCU and NUI Maynooth RAG weeks, starting the 25th. So dust off the denim, dig out your old posters, and I’ll see you in the mosh pit.

(Alternatively, you could go see Menomena. Pffft.)

There’s nothing like a good two-for-one deal to make me as excited as a granny on Winning Streak. Thus the recent announcement of the Battles-Liars double bill at Vicar Street, guaranteed to be this year’s Deerhunter-YACHT equivalent, has my pink thoroughly tickled. But it also begs the question- Why does Dublin not have more arrangements like this? While May 15th is a night to look forward to, the 20th will be a day of dread. My Sunset Rubdown experience will be tainted by the constant nagging “you’re missing Broken Social Scene for this” in the back of my brain. Now quite how two bands that feed from the same fanbase can play in one small city on the same night at the same time and two different venues is quite beyond me. I’m willing to wager that at least 80% of the Spencer Krug brigade are all Broken Social Scenesters too, and the choice of the two will be based purely on the fact that BSS come around every year, and Sunset Rubdown may well be shelved for a few years after this tour. Given that we’re paying €24.50 (for those who like to put their feet up, €28.50) for tickets for one of the Canadian collectives should we not expect the most value for money we can get in the city that night? I know BSS don’t “do” support generally, but I doubt they’d balk at the idea of giving an hour of stage time to Sunset Rubdown. Those who plump for the latter will most likely end up having a half-baked local band who thought Snow Patrol were a good idea the first time, or The Next Laura Izibor thrust upon them for support.

Perhaps there is some controversy over the idea of foreign band supporting foreign band when the support slot is considered as a vital part of nourishing the local scene. But what happened to the concept of three bands playing one gig? Support slots for unknown bands are often too long, unwarranted by their popularity to date. For instance, Fiery Furnaces had the honor of a pseudo-Arctic Monkeys for support in Whelan’s last year. I decided after three songs, along with a majority of the already-assembled crowd, that the prospect of another six of them made me want to take up smoking to escape the impending torture. However, if I were at the 9:30 Club in Washington on the 27^thJanuary just passed I would not only have the delight of being warmed up by Holy Fuck, but Super Furry Animals would bring the room to the boil before the Friedbergers set foot on stage. Double-bill concerts are not as rare a treat in North America as they are here, where the tours may only be sustainable by teaming up with bands of equal stature and popularity. Recently announced tours include Man Man-Yeasayer, Okkervil River-New Pornographers and YACHT-Vampire Weekend (I may have subverted the last one in order of my own preference) not to mention last year’s LCD Soundsystem and Arcade Fire double whammy. Bang for the buck is not an adverse concept here. Last year’s Nokia Trends Labs gigs, despite gaudy advertising, threw the Go! Team and Cadence Weapon into one (reports tell me) enjoyable gig, and Final Fantasy not only brought along Miracle Fortress along for the fun, but went ahead and backed up Girl Talk two nights later.

Yet if you’re going out this weekend you’ll have to choose between Sons and Daughters and Von Bondies, surely two bands well-suited to the same show? So saturated is the calendar this year that even the richest of gig-goers will have to cut several bands out of their plans and sit in to listen to their illegal downloads instead. Perhaps more double-barrel gigs are the answer to the increasing problem of over-abundance.

Well either that, or an Analogue Festival…

Reviewing Spanish Prisoners’ debut “Songs to Forget” for the forthcoming issue of Analogue struck a chord as an exciting new prospect in the chockablock American “bedroom” music scene. The mastermind behind the record, Leonid Maymind, talked to us about poetry, progress and makeshift percussion.

What’s the reaction to “Songs To Forget” been like so far? It seems to act more as an introduction to your music than a self-contained album. Is this what you were going for?

Seems like the reaction has been small in scope, yet the people that it does reach seem to really enjoy it. I don’t think it’s very widespread at all really.

Is there a lot of effort still involved in trying to organize shows and get booked, or have venues start coming to you?

Half and half, I’d say. It also depends on what kind of shows you are trying to book. There are a million venues in New York city, so there never is a shortage of places. Then again, there are a million and one bands. I enjoy the competition, to a certain extent.

There’s not really one defining sound or genre on the album, what do you think binds your songs together? What makes them “Spanish Prisoners” songs?

This is true, the album is very diverse sound-wise, which is definitely something I was aiming to achieve. I enjoy having a variety of instruments and textures. I think what binds the songs together is my voice, both physical and lyrical. And I hope that the general feel and recording quality of the songs is pretty consistent as well.

You’ve lived in New Orleans and Latvia amongst other places, how have these different cultures affected your music? Of all the locations you’ve lived which do you think has been the most formative to your sound?

I think living in a variety of places has affected me as a person, and that in turn has affected me as a musician. I don’t know that the specific locations that I’ve lived have had a direct influence on the music- there aren’t any zydeco songs (yet)! I think as I’ve gotten older I’ve become more in tune with the music that is happening around me.

In your songs you often jump unexpectedly in a new direction. Is this contrived, do you feel you have to keep the listener on their toes, or are you more concerned with challenging yourself not to keep to conventions?

It is completely contrived! No, I’m kidding. I don’t really feel that the songs are made with the listener in mind, mostly because I have no idea what the listener wants to hear or who the listener is. Different people might want to hear different things and I think you would go crazy if you tried to do something to please or displease a generic “listener.” I simply feel like I’m chasing the song, trying to figure out where it wants to go, and then following that path the best I can. It’s also due to the fact that I have a short attention span and I do enjoy challenging conventions.

Would you view your music as “experimental”? Do you always try to maintain a level of accessibility for listeners?

I would view it as experimental pop music, sure. I think it’s pop music in the simplest sense, just with a whole lot of other ‘musics’ mixed in.

Is the lo-fi sound out of choice, or necessity?

Both. I recorded most of this album by myself at home using really simple tools, because that was all that I had, that was all I knew how to use, and I was content with using them. I also think that songs should create a place and using shiny production destroys that. There are a lot of random sounds in the album that may appear to listeners over time, and I think music should be like that- layered and nuanced, just like humans.

The poet James Wright is an inspiration on you… What affects you about his poetry? What elements of his work do you incorporate into your own?

I think he has a way with words that often disregards their standard meanings, a sense of playfulness, and that is something that is inspiring to me. Admittedly, I’ve only read a small chunk of his poetry. I’m also very into Neruda, Billy Collins, David Berman, many others.

There’s an arsenal of different instruments on the record, are they all yours? Did you play them all yourself in recording? What’s the pride of your instrument collection?

“Song for the weary” was recorded live in someone’s living room, so the only thing I played on that was the banjo. Mantequilla also had some help from Eric Metronome and Erik Kang, who is now in Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s. Most of the drum parts were played by friends. Other than that, most of the rest of the instruments were done by me. The power of overdubbing!

Was calling the album “Songs To Forget” self-effacing, or were you playing a game of reverse psychology?

Definitely self-deprecation, but also trying to dispel the notion of hyperbole for new bands. Take that as you well. It’s also a sly Leonard Cohen reference, most of his albums were ’songs…”

Is the name “Spanish Prisoners” a reference to the film? What are its origins?

Yes, the Mamet film, a great one, in my opinion. I also just like the cadence of the sounds.

Are the days of using a cardboard box for percussion over? Do you think it’s important to keep a ramshackle element to music?

You never know, the cardboard box might re-appear someday!

Check out Spanish Prisoner’s MySpace for some songs to remember (ahem.)

Some bands are absolute gifts to bloggers and music writers abound. Rather than forcing terribly unoriginal writers to devise headlines like “A GRAND Auld Time” to sit pretty on top of their features they provide us with hyperbolic ammo in interviews such as “We’re Like Juninho Playing For Middlesborough Football Club” and are confident and assured enough in their own opinions that we don’t have to invent some for them. Even more of a boon is when they admit Pavement influences so we don’t have to force those on them either. Thank God for Grand Pocket Orchestra.

Singer and guitarist Paddy’s proclamation comparing his band to Brazilian midfielder Juninho isn’t quite as strange as it seems. Middlesborough represent the Irish music scene: steady, mediocre, filled to the brim with bog-standard players that will never attract attention overseas. Grand Pocket Orchestra, with a select few others (Bryan Robson and Fabrizio Ravanelli, at least) are the few exotic delights the banal roster offers to excite fans tired of seeing the same old dogged generic performances week in, week out. They feel most bands in Ireland are constantly five years behind, and take themselves far too seriously- an allegation GPO can never have held against them.

There is something wholly unique and un-Irish about the Dublin four-piece. They attribute this to their “camp energy”, manifested in their ADHD performances. Paddy explains that it’s difficult enough for him to sit still without fidgeting, nevermind control himself onstage. Keyboardist and xylophonist Bronwyn’s trademark nurse’s uniform and table of toys is another contributor, and drummer Peter’s seemingly neverending grins seal the deal. Their self-description says it all: “We are the lovechild of Pavement and Liza Minelli”, a mixture of an Oooh-Look-At-Us attitude and genuine introverted artistry, all pulled off with the aplomb of a band who’ve been playing gigs and reeling off interviews for as long as Liza’s been troubling the divorce courts.

Paddy, Bronwyn and Peter (Luckily guitarist/bassist Chester wasn’t around- the scarf isn’t nearly long enough)

Yet their lifespan has been a short, though eventful one. Formed in June of last year (when they kidnapped Peter and exiled themselves to Cork) they emerged with a definite identity, and a handful of songs. While a major release has still not seen the light of day, the band have managed to play to two capacity audiences thanks to support slots with Fight Like Apes and Les Savy Fav. From the latter the band took the lesson that it’s acceptable to be a bit mental onstage, as they’ll never be quite as off the rails as Tim Harrington. They recorded several songs that made their way on to a limited release and, more importantly, their Myspace, which has seen a massive amount of traffic for a fledgling band already. A little done, and a lot more to do then.

2008 looks likely to be even more hectic than their stage set-up. A reel of gigs has already been organized (including a return to Whelans, and their first overseas trip to England and Germany). They endeavour to have put out a second video and full scale EP too. If they hit success they plan not to replace the toys with acutal tangible instruments, but to buy bigger and shinier playthings. It appears though that Grand Pocket Orchestra’s ambitions are less temporal than this though. There’s is a quest to stand out from the Luke Youngs of the world and inject energy, colour and the “f” word (mentioning the word “fun” around Director, I imagine, is like cursing the baby Jesus in a nunnery) back in to the greying body of the Irish music scene.

www.myspace.com/grandpocketorchestra

“Odd Socks” - Grand Pocket Orchestra Official Music Video from Michael Healey on Vimeo.

Herman Melville wrote “it’s better to fail in originality than to succeed in imitation”.  After a minute of listening to First You Live it is crystal clear that Dusty Rhodes and the River Band have never read any Melville. However, lack of originality hasn’t held back most of today’s successful bands, so why should it hold back Dusty Rhodes and the River Band? Because their singer sounds like a South Park imitation of Kings Of Leon’s singer, in short. First You Live’s first forty seconds are wholly promising, with lavish instrumentation and a short pub singalong. Then the title track’s vocals kick in. Dustin Apodaca’s voice is one that belongs in snot-nosed skater punk, and all The River Band’s lush Band-esque layers of guitar, violin and keys cannot save this album of well-worn gospel-folk clichés (there’s something terribly unconvincing about the line “I can’t wait to be free, oh I can’t wait to leave Tennessee” when it’s coming from a Californian).

Pete Silberman’s story is a familiar one- A prodigious American singer-songwriter releasing under a plural noun pseudonym capitivating the hearts of bloggers from New York to, well, the Irish Times’ finest with wistful songs and lush instrumentation. Yet, like the best stories, it’s one with replay value and a promising plotline. Currently on his 5th album “In The Attic Of The Universe”, the 21 year old New Yorker is steadily building up reputation and a brilliant back catalogue. He may well have that Basset Hound soon:

Why “The Antlers”?

I’ve gone by a few names throughout my time writing and recording
solo. By the time I moved to New York (about two years ago), I was
using a variation of my real name, but feeling less and less like
being a singer-songwriter. I decided a little over a year ago to make
what I was doing less of a solo affair. The name The Antlers was
taken from a Microphones song called “Antlers”. I think I also
probably got the plural noun idea from The Microphones, as “the band”
was mostly Phil Elverum, but with a rotating cast of people involved
in the recording and performing. You can’t really tell who you’re
listening to, where sounds are coming from, and it all becomes one
thing. So far it’s just been me on the recordings, but that’ll change
with the next record.

What’s your mission statement for the band? What do you want to achieve?

That’s hard to say. At this point, I’m loving recording and hearing
those sounds come to life through the band. I’d love to do some
serious touring soon. I guess I’d say my goal is to be able to do
this for a living. I haven’t loved doing anything in my life nearly
as much as this. I’ve also wanted a Basset Hound for awhile, so if I
someday find myself with one as a result of making music, that’d be
great.

“Uprooted” was a very folksy affair, what prompted the more widescreen
feeling of “In The Attic Of The Universe?”

Uprooted was recorded right before and right after I moved to
Manhattan, and I think my goal was to record something I could
replicate by playing solo shows, as I didn’t have a band at the time.
Universe came practically out of nowhere last September, but I think
in recording it I tried to make an album that I would like. I’ve
recorded music that I’ve been attached to but don’t enjoy listening
to. For Universe, I tried to imagine an album that I would enjoy if
it came from someone else. I ignored the practicalities of an album I
couldn’t perform by myself, and that eventually forced me to get a
band together. Aside from that, Universe was made to sound huge
inside something small, or small inside something huge, depending on
how you look at it.

You’re already writing your next album, “Hospice”. Are you concerned with maintaining a steady output of music, rather than promoting the stuff you’ve already made?

Well it’s easy to release something and then move on to the next thing
you want to write, or the next point you want to make. I’ve always
had this problem, and it’s something I can’t really turn off. Even as
I work on Hospice now I’m putting together ideas for the album that
follows it. I have a terrible short term memory, so if I don’t record
things as they come into my head they go the way of laserdiscs. It
seems funny to me that I’m still promoting Universe, but the fact that
that album doesn’t let me leave it alone is encouraging.

How did you hook up with the other members of the band? Some of them
are artists in their own right, does this lead to a conflict in
interest?

I actually found three of them through Craigslist around the time I
first put out Universe. I met the newest member Darby (trumpet,
banjo) through Justin (bass, vocals). I’ve actually found that it
helps that everybody has their own musical projects or is involved
with other groups. There’s no competition to be writing songs in the
group, and everybody has an available cast of players for recording.
I’m a bit of a control freak when it comes to songwriting, but it
works because everyone can be a control freak for their own projects
without getting in each other’s way.

What’s the reception been like in New York to the Antlers so far? Is
it a positive environment for new bands?

Reception’s been…slow. I probably played twenty shows to empty
rooms in the first year I moved here, but they’re getting much better
now. The blogs here have been really helpful by booking me/us for a
bunch of shows around town. But I think New York is an insanely hard
place for new bands. There’s so many of them, and some of those blow
up the second they start playing shows, but most don’t. Pay
attention, work hard, be patient.

Do you have a dayjob? How much time do you devote to the Antlers?

I’m finishing up my undergrad here in New York, though studying
something largely unrelated to music which I hope to never use. I
spend as much time as possible on the Antlers, and tend to put it as a
priority before anything else, which is good for Antlers and not so
good for school.

What informs your lyrics, what influences your songwriting?

It depends on the album. Uprooted came out of leaving a life I’d
started in upstate New York to chase music here. It began as a sort
of hackneyed idea that evolved into something else once I arrived
because I stopped feeling that magic for an unreachable place.
Universe feels as though it happened independent of me. I remember at
the time feeling completely fascinated by space and dwarfed by its
size, reading and thinking about it all the time, but I can’t say
where that music or those lyrics came from. I guess that’s the thing
about songwriting for me - Once it’s done it’s sort of out of my
system. That helps if I’m trying to get over something But with
Universe, it makes it harder to understand in retrospect. Hospice is
my “relationship/breakup album”, and I know exactly where it came
from, but I might not after it’s done.

You’ve covered My Bloody Valentine, are you excited by their reunion?
Are MBV a strong influence on your music?

All these reunions make me nervous. I’m not sure any of them have
been good yet…but maybe MBV will break the curse. I honestly became
a big MBV fan pretty recently, at about the time I recorded that
cover. It’s the kind of music that can easily become all you listen
to if you’re not careful…which happened to me this past summer.
Since then, it’s definitely been influential on the album I’m working
on now. Hospice has alot of guitar that doesn’t sound like guitar,
but like Universe, it’s narrative, whereas MBV’s lyrics and vocals are
usually pushed to the back.

The band is signed now by Fall Records, what made you choose this label?

Around the time I first released Universe, my friend turned me on to
Page France’s Hello, Dear Wind, which I obsessively listened to for
awhile. After some research, I found out that it was originally
released by Fall, and decided to send them the album for the hell of
it, maybe because they seemed so approachable.

Would touring outside of America interest you?

I’d love to play Ireland, actually. I visited when I was about 12 and
thought it was beautiful and have been wanting to come back ever
since. Lately Iceland’s been appealing, France too…At this point
I’m really open to playing anywhere and everywhere. If the
opportunity appeared to tour Europe, I think I’d kick myself if I
didn’t take it.

In The Attic Of The Universe available for streaming, and a copious selection of free downloads available, from www.antlersmusic.com. Buy a few records and we might get him over to Whelans.

The Clientele are a band which have no bad songs, but no outstanding ones. For such an outfit, albums are capitally important. Luckily for them God Save The Clientele is a pretty strong one.
Their lyrics are poetic, wistful and consciously pretty, and their lush music somewhere between dream and twee pop, incorporating psychadelia without ever raising the suspicion that any band member has ever ingested narcotics. Ever.
Choruses never rise into giddy stratospheres; songs flow smoothly from one to the next. To look for stand-out strong points is to miss the purpose of the album. The Clientele are trying to take you into their universe of forests trails, sedate seasides and, most importantly, safety. If you spend time with this album they are sure to succeed. God Save The Clientele is a perfectly timed release- it’s one for winter evenings in front of log fires, and sleepy Sunday mornings.

Georgie James are not a stereotypical Saddle Creek band. Usually signing bands of either Emo or Folk strains, the Nebraskan label has taken a risk with putting out this album. Citing E.L.O. and Simon & Garfunkel as influences could turn many off the band before so much as listening to a song, but taking a leap of faith with this band might just pay off for both the listener and Saddle Creek.
The songs are straightforward, the artwork unpretentious, and the lyrics bordering on banal, but there’s a charm to Places that sucks you in and arrests you until the last note of handclapped closer (and album highlight) Only Cause You’re Young.
If you were a fan of band member John Davis’ previous dance-punk outfit Q and Not U, Places isn’t going to make you wish the band never reforms. However, if you’re looking for pop-rock thrills and memorable melodies, Georgie James will leave you hooked.

Friend and Foe is somewhat of a marathon for the listener- It’s easy to pelt through the first few tracks, Muscle N’ Flo, The Pelican, and Wet And Rusting, and think that “this is all a bit easier than
I thought”. However, with a little pacing,the album’s subtleties begin to reveal themselves. The sinister saxophone and strange mewing in the background (I’m pretty sure they’re using kittens instead of plectrums) on “Weird” add to song texture rather than reaching a climax, or providing hooks, a recurring feature of Friend And Foe. “Running” is an interesting sideshow- a two minute long stop-start affair accompanied by strange-voiced reassurances that “we’ll make it before the cows come home”. A paean to advice rejected in the past, “My My” has music to match the reminiscent and reflective feel of the lyrical content, is the album’s second-half highlight. This album is arduous and fun in equal measures. For example, see their “La Blogotheque” performance of “Wet And Rusting. “Post-Rock” done properly.