Vic Galloway recommends some sweet Scottish sounds to drown out the seasonal saccharine.
So John Peel has passed away and Elton John rele; ses yet another LR . . . can things get any worse? Well. Christi‘iias is approaching. and that means cultural vacuum? The ‘Ultimate' collections and compilations flood the place. f;(-:(tS()lt{,t| comedy hits are attempted and Band Aid flashes its altruistic smile once again. You can make vOur own minds up about "charidee' records. but I'm not some Band Aid basher. I absolutely applaud anyone who makes a stand while loathsome r‘ioliticians continually award themselves bigger salaries and expense accounts. It can only be a good thing that we reach into our pockets for the truly helpless. If only it was a different song!
Anyway. when queuing for your copy of Band Aid. why not Journey further into the depths of the Independent record shop? There are gifts and surprises to behold! Oh reioice! Yes. as you've been hearing all year, 2004 has been great for Scottish bands and you won't be disappointed if you take a chance on a whole array of excellent releases. Basically. here are a few shopping tips from yours truly. Pen and paper ready?
Pop Idol, X Factor and Fame Academy. stand aside. you insolent fools! Quality music is back (it never went away) and it doesn't end wrth Franz Ferdrnz—tnd‘s superb. eponymous debut. You'd be well advised to track down stocking-fillers from the Magnificents. Sons 8 Daughters. Dogs Die in Hot Cars or MotOrmark. For those who need a festive dose of brutal norse and invention. I'd chose Biffy Clyro. Sluts of Trust. Laeto or Aereogramme's new albums. If you're of a gentler disposition. get your listening tackle around new long-players from Aberfeldy. James YOrkston. the Delgados. the Aphrodisiacs or anything on the excellent Fence Records. For beats. bleeps. glitches and quirks. there's always Benbecula Records oeuvre: or debuts from Mylo. Mangomad and Dolphin Boy; and continually excellent 'future-hop' (that‘s a new one) offerings from David Jack and Penpushers. And let's not forget Uncle John 8 Whitelock, Half Cousin. Le Reno Amps. the Owsley Sunshine . . . ooh my basket floweth over!
So Just remember what Chris Martin bleats: 'lt‘s Christmas time. there's no need to be afraid . . .‘ Yes. give your money to charity but please don't end up splashing more cash on that Butlins-buffoon Robbie Williams! Do yourself a favour and get some homegrown new tunes tnis festive season.
I Vic Galloway broadcasts on Radio 7 every Thu from 7.30—9pm and BBC Radio Scotland's 'Ar’r' every Mon from 8. 05— 7 0pm.
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THE GO! TEAM
Optimo, the Sub Club, Glasgow, Sun 5 Dec
lhere's a party happening on a beach near you. \‘.’|lll beers and barbecue. football and fnsbee. and cloudless, sunny skies. Vlhat‘s right. fuck ‘.'.'llllt?l! Ey'ery day is sunshine y‘.'ith the Go‘ Team.
Amone who hasn't heard the four-boy. Mao-girl Brighton outfit. or their recent debut album Thunder. 1_ glitrirng Strike. is. lucky. For they still hape that sublime moment to look toward to y-rhen they hear one of 2005‘s most promising contenders for the first time. and the defiantly happy sound ‘.‘.’i"~lll‘ could swap eyen the most self~t‘onsciously furro.-.ed prov. to.' a smile and a dance. '\‘Vhere Sonic Youth meets the Jackson 53 says their PR buriipri. and it is —- astoundingly — telling no lies.
'Yeah. that's true' laughs bandleader lan Rar'ton ‘ original and innoyatrye. but still waking music you tan get villi?.'.l‘ to — ess .tr‘i'i» stroking. n‘ore ass-shaking l loye stuff like Srieilac. Faga: amt SUl‘JL Y‘ :..‘."i. :i..'. we. also go for that Charlie Bl't‘\‘.'l‘. feel. the Sesame Sr'ee.‘ .ibe. can't .-.-:: ix,- noisy. colourful and sassy at the same time
Suill‘il‘lt‘b‘ are an integral part of the Go! Tean‘. but in a subtle unhera- t":: of cuts are bent to their new handlers Creatiyity. ‘Some songs use as can: as :7“ samples but they 're pitched and stretched. and layered under real instrur‘iei‘ts.‘ says Parton. ‘lt's not some lazy one-sample idea. but cure ".i)’. near“. to think about what's going on where. Besides. l neyer anted to do a One-m:- ‘ lar‘fcp thrng when I started \‘.l|llllg these songs in my bedroom Much better to 1:»? a band. a team . . it kicks ass!‘ iDayrd Pollock
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LAIBACH QMU, Glasgow, Wed 15 Dec
Any band that has covered ‘The Final Countdown', Europe‘s 19805 cheese- laden, faux-pomp, big-haired nightmare, can‘t, you might think, be taken too seriously. Especially when the same band has also released versions of Opus’ equally storming ‘Life Is Life', and Status Quo’s ‘In the Army Now‘. And how about the Beatles‘ Let It Be album, done in its entirety?
Given that Laibach, Slovenia’s veteran purveyors of industrial sturm und drang, and guilty of all of the above, perform onstage in crypto-Nazi uniforms, incorporate heroic Stalinist imagery into their act, became the music wing of provocative art collective NSK (Neue Slowenische Kunst — New Slovene Art), and even founded their own nation state, taking them seriously — or not - becomes a rather problematic enterprise.
‘We like to confuse people,‘ snickers the positively waggish founder member Ivan Novak down the line from Seattle, where the band played a concert last week to accompany an NSK retrospective exhibition. ‘lt‘s what we do best.‘
This is in profound evidence on the recently released Anthems retrospective, and is captured in all its glory on the accompanying DVD, which features the documentary, A Film From Slovenia, and footage from 1994‘s then presciently named Occupied Europe Nato Tour.
Formed in 1980, Laibach took a stance from the off by calling themselves after the name given to Slovenian capital, Ljubjana, when under German occupation. Given that the then Yugoslavia was still under Communist rule, its usage was banned, and Laibach were forced to use their trademark cross symbol. lmbued with a confrontational discipline similar in Wagnerian spirit to that of Angus Farqhar's Test Department, by 1987, MTV's repeat plays of Life Is Life brought Laibach global notoriety.
Where Test Department‘s industrialism mutated into the outdoor spectacles of art collective NVA, Laibach ploughed the same quasi- totalitarian furough. Such monolithic posturing should be on show in next week‘s Glasgow date. Given such apparent taking stock, Laibach‘s development across nigh on a quarter of a century of musical as well as global history — the rise of techno, the collapse of the Berlin Wall, both epochal in their own way - should also be apparent.
‘Not at all,’ says Novak. ‘l’m serious. We haven‘t changed in the slightest. We're still doing now the same things that we were 23 years ago. The only thing that has changed is the technology.‘ Regime change, for Laibach at least, is not imminent. (Neil Cooper)
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