MUSIC | Reviews
WAN DAY, HUNNERS O’ BANDS BIG DAY IN Electric Circus, Edinburgh, Sun 5 May ●●●●●
Having successfully assembled an astounding line-up of electronic indie talent from across the UK, the initial concern for Electric Circus’ inaugural Big Day In mini-festival was getting people through the doors. While such concerns were unfounded, the wisdom of holding an all- dayer in such a confined space is up for debate. Things got underway with a set from Glasgow’s indie-rock-with-beats outfit Machines in Heaven, whose habit of building their songs up into noisy squalls was a repetitive downside to what was otherwise a decent, varied set of synth-and-guitar- led electronica. Acousto-electric duo Made of Glass were a much quieter affair, and consequently, they often struggled to be heard above the growing crowd; thankfully, an impressive performance by vocalist Nicky Carder gave rise to a few moments of justly awed silence. Those that paid attention to the delicate Dems were also suitably entranced with singer Dan Moss’ almost Thom Yorkean falsetto vocals, though the fragile nature of the band’s material meant they too suffered from audience chatter. Sandwiched in between the two was idiosyncratic folktronic wordsmith Jonnie Common, whose witty, banterful set was an early highlight to the day (his alternative #BigDayIn-themed song titles included ‘Frasier triple-bill’, ‘Poached egg on toast’ and ‘Bathwank’).
Things took a slight dip following a brief dinner break, with so-so indie-schmindie dream-poppers The Machine Room (pictured) seeming at odds with the electronica-heavy line-up of the day (the odd synth hook did little to leaven the guitar-heavy nature of their setlist). Lomond Campbell did a grand job of using his vocals to marshall River of Slime’s eclectic sci-fi weirdness into a kosmische- tinged set that marked a new direction for the now two-member band FOUND; nevertheless, their occasional forays into experimentalism left some audience-members scratching their heads. Much more unifying was the kinetic dance-pop of Discopolis, who were visibly delighted at the rapturous reception which greeted each of their songs. All that remained to be seen was a headline
set from Manchester alt.electro-pop group Dutch Uncles, but with the cumulative effects of seven hours in an enclosed space starting to kick in, your hardy correspondent had to bail. Electric Circus should be commended for putting together a great line-up, but spreading the entertainment over several small rooms (in the style of Stag & Dagger or the Camden Crawl) might lessen the sense of confinement for those enlisted for the long haul. (Niki Boyle)
88 THE LIST 16 May–13 Jun 2013
WELSH POP SWEET BABOO King Tut’s Wah Wah Hut, Glasgow, Tue 7 May ●●●●●
‘I go dancing and chancing my luck with all those girls / That’s why I’m bound for hell’, sings Stephen Black AKA Sweet Baboo, on catchy 2010 single ‘I’m a Dancer’. To look at this Welshman's freckly face, rabbit-in-the-headlights expression and guitar worn high over a stripy t-shirt, you might assume this line was sung with tongue firmly in apple-cheek. But let him sing you his song about why he really, really wants his girlfriend (she’s the one with the cash) to buy them a motorhome, and you might just re-assess those seductive powers.
Mostly, Black’s songs paint him as the soppy, lovelorn fool, issuing quirky declarations of love, his warm, folky voice cracking as desperation creeps in amid the self-deprecating humour. Let’s not feel too sorry for him though: Black is a very accomplished guitar player, with a lightness of touch on the strings that matches his lyrics. A supremely-tight backing band and lyrical originality lend additional help in warding off any tendency toward repetitiveness that might otherwise have existed in this charming set. (Laura Ennor)
DOUR FOLK/POP MALCOLM MIDDLETON Electric Circus, Edinburgh, Mon 29 April ●●●●●
’I have to apologise in advance,’ says Malcolm Middleton, ‘for being slick and so well-rehearsed.’ On the opening night of his latest tour, there’s good reason to fear being short-changed for such uncharacteristic professionalism and cheer. But everything quickly transpires to be in normal, hilariously dour order. ‘This is shit, that is shit, and being shit is great,’ he grumps on ‘Total Belief’. A new number, ‘By Proxy Song’, reveals a cynical plan for career longevity: ‘Frankly I’m going to have to take a dip in form so the next thing looks better.’
Tonight marks a re-issue of 5.14 Fluoxytine Seagull Alcohol John Nicotine, Middleton’s brutally despondent gem of a debut album from 2002. He plays most of it, to his sometimes evident displeasure: he visibly winces during ‘Cold Winter’ at his younger self’s suicidal lyricism. But laughing with Middleton through the bad times is the essence of his idiosyncratic appeal, and for all the gloom, he’s clearly in his element tonight. ‘9, 10, 11, 12, beginning to like myself,’ runs a line in another 5.14 track dug out on request, ‘1, 2, 3, 4’. We’re way ahead of you mate. (Malcolm Jack)
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ALT.BLUES WILLIAM TYLER & HISS GOLDEN MESSENGER Summerhall, Edinburgh, Sat 4 May ●●●●● CALEDONIAN FOLK ALASDAIR ROBERTS & FRIENDS Stereo, Glasgow, Fri 3 May ●●●●●
Despite the setting in a cool, dark, wood-panelled lecture theatre, sometime Silver Jews and Lambchop guitarist William Tyler and Hiss Golden Messenger songwriter and fulcrum Michael ‘MT’ Taylor brought a certain sense of the pastoral with them for this joint show. Playing a set each, the first had singer and acoustic guitarist Taylor being accompanied by Tyler on slide guitar, an unearthly sound even in a backing role like this. Tyler’s every scrape of a string echoed out like gunshot across the prairie, while Taylor’s cracked and resonantly beautiful voice recalled a worn-out Levon Helm on a cover of Mike Waterson’s ‘Bright Phoebus’. Playing songs from his new LP Impossible Truth,
Tyler headlined with an instrumental set. In between songs, he told us ‘Hotel Catatonia’ was about being locked in a freezer by his old boss and recounted staying only a mile away from last month’s Boston shoot-out. These stories lived and breathed through evocative and deftly played songs: indie movie soundtracks-in-waiting with a strong sense of place and time. (David Pollock)
Alasdair Roberts is hopping around the stage, picking out a jaunty Scottish dance tune on guitar. Huddled around him are fiddler Rafe Fitzpatrick and electric guitarist Ben Reynolds, while double-bassist Stevie Jones flanks them all, swaying as he locks in with Shane Connolly’s ritualistic drum patterns. The mood grows ever more rambunctious as singer Olivia Chaney, viola da gamba player Alison McGillivray and a horn section join the proceedings before Fitzpatrick steps up to the microphone for his party piece, a Welsh language rap.
This is less a conventional folk gig than a subversive ceilidh organised by some cracked millenarian cult. Drawn almost entirely from Roberts’ most recent album, the excellent A Wonder Working Stone, this set brings the old weird Caledonia of his imagination to vivid life. There are hearty choruses that laugh in the face of the apocalypse, and invitations to a merry wake, all set to inspired arrangements that combine serious folk scholarship with witty flourishes of country and western, colliery bands and Mingus jazz. (Stewart Smith)