GIG REVIEW: London Grammar @ Rough Trade East, London, 10-09-13

As one year ends and another begins, after all the End-Of-Year lists have circulated and the big breakthrough acts of the year before have been noted and shelved, impatient music fans such as myself are already looking for that big band, artist or track that's going to define the year that follows. As 2013 dawned, all of 7 days passed before a band called London Grammar had a song going viral so quickly it made our heads spin. It was a sparse and beautiful song that took the internet's breath away, and the song was called "Hey Now".

Cut forward 9 months, universal acclaim and a handful of EPs, and this very band have already created a simple but gorgeous debut album. My friend accompanying me to this exclusive and very small Rough Trade mini-gig commented just how quickly the record had come around. But, in a world where hype for a record raises expectations to the point where a band is destined to disappoint no matter what, The Grammars have the right idea.

Because the fame and success has clearly had no chance to hit them - and judging by the performance tonight, thank god. The band shuffle on stage unfashionably on time just after 7pm, with shy, modest looks on their faces, and they converse with the crowd as if they would converse with guests at a friend's wedding. It's the self-deprecating comments and awkward personal admissions of singer Hannah Reid that make the siren calls when she opens her mouth all the more enchanting.

The band as a whole are humble and largely still onstage as they make their way through a half hour set of their best known material, but because of what the three can do together, they still manage to exude extraordinary stage presence. Not even the crackly, bass-heavy speaker system of the record store can detract from the raw beauty of London Grammar's music.

The tracks take on a life of their own in a live environment, and benefit from being based around the simplest of arrangements. "Hey Now" becomes an extended free-space for the track's simple but haunting motifs, and "Darling..." and "Metal & Dust" triple in size, becoming bonafide indie rock anthems that wouldn't shame U2 on an arena stage. Dot skips from drums to keyboards to drum machines, and Dan's guitaring is loose and with feeling, as Hannah lets her truly phenomenal, deep voice soar through the tinny halls of Rough Trade.

The crowd is quiet but supportive and uncharacteristically warm for a London crowd. The applause is genuine, enthusiastic and unforced; there's a genuine feel of support and love for the band, rare for one so young. Before "Strong", probably "Hey Now"'s biggest contender for London Grammar's signature tune, Hannah sweetly requests the audience sings along, and jokingly lampoons them afterwards for not doing so. But what she doesn't realize is, that the audience was just too damn in awe to do anything to drown out what was coming from the band themselves.

It has been a real honour to be at such an important gig for the band, their first live gig post-debut release, and witnessing the first step towards a long and successful career. It's nearly always a risky move to predict big things from a band in the long term, but judging on this performance tonight paired with a belter debut, it's a bet I'd be willing to make. What was most exciting about this evening is that this feels like the mere beginning - in 9 months and one album, we've only seen a hint of what this glorious trio can create together.

As great as If You Wait is, it's albums number 3 and 4 I'm most looking forward to.

Setlist

Hey Now

Darling, Are You Gonna Leave Me?

Wasting My Young Years

Interlude

Strong

Metal & Dust

- Joe Copplestone, 11/09/13 (Photograph by Joao Vasconcelos)

GIG REVIEW: Bon Iver @ Wembley Arena, feat. The Staves - 08/11/12

Going to a gig on your own might seem simple enough. You don't have to wait around for anyone, you can stand where you please, and, if it comes to it, leave when you please. However, having to rejoin a cloakroom queue three times due to having only two hands, but a drink, headphones, coat and pound coin to contend with, puts a slightly uncomfortable beginning to my evening. This is closely followed by the realisation that the allegedly Bon Iver-loving crowd consists largely, to my dismay, of either soppy couples, or snobby students in large groups.

The last straw is when a girl with bad teeth and a worse attitude next to me, surrounded by, one assumes, her friends, exclaims loudly "imagine if you came by yourself!" In a moment of what I consider to be calm and casual confrontation, I cheerily inform her that she is in the presence of one such poor sod, to which she gasps and says "I'm going to hell." Hoping she stays put for the moment, I find somewhere else to stand.

But to see a gig like this, to see the band who made the album that soundtracked my 2012, the most beautiful, comforting piece of escapist art I have heard in quite possibly my entire life, I don't want a companion to chit chat with. I want to witness the magic recreated on stage; to witness Justin Vernon utter those words "...at once I knew I was not magnificent" first hand. It might sound pretentious, but tonight was not a social occasion for me; It was only about Bon Iver.


Support act The Staves resemble, typically for an all female folk band, a trio of Karen Carpenters. The band however are as masterful at their craft as if there were indeed three of the late songstress up there. Their pitch perfect harmonies resonate charmingly around the arena, where the band clearly belong. "Bugger me, we're at Wembley!" one of the girls amusingly chirps, to whoops and cheers from an impressed crowd. Hopefully the Watford girls get to return here soon.

It feels like a long wait, longer when you're on your own (last one, promise), but at quarter past 9, the lights go down and to the simmering sounds of windchimes and dusty percussion, The many members of Bon Iver swoop onto a stage with enough equipment to open a store, and a huge, awe-inspired cheer is saved for the man of the moment, Justin Vernon.

The opening three songs from last year's Bon Iver are the opening three here, and it's clear that the band are going to be performing no chillout set. "Perth" is staggering, thanks in part to a wonderful sound in the arena, and totally justifies Vernon's one-time 'heavy metal' description. The pitter patter arpeggios of "Holocene" are met with surprised cheers at the decision to play it so early in the set, and the crowd don't appear to have been emotionally adjusted yet, but it's gorgeous anyway, although its probably the most autopilot performance of the night. Which suggests just how incredible the later highlights are.

As "Perth" hints, the band are ready to rock throughout most of the set, and it's engaging, exciting and gives the tracks new life. EP rarity "Blood Bank" follows "Holocene", and in its live form, it is straight up anthemic, borderline Springsteen even, with an aching, wrenching guitar solo courtesy of Vernon. No one is prepared for it. "Hinnom, TX" even builds to a grandslamming climax, tripling its emotional power, and making the comedown in "Wash" all the more satisfying.

I'm surprised its taken me this long to mention the light show. The stage is scattered with lights that resemble candles in a church, and when combined with the beautiful swathes of green and yellow light that swoop the stage like spotlights, and all the instruments and the many bodies of the band members come in and out of focus, and the whole stage comes off like a musical enchanted forest. It's quite simply breathtaking.

The show evolves from joy to joy. Once Vernon starts to engage with the crowd, it's through nonsensical stories about his soggy, cardboard underwear, that are somehow hilarious, and an awkward yet totally endearing mix of crowd-banter and bumbling thanks throughout. His manner is slight, but utterly human and warm, and the perfect antithesis to such epic music. On "Re: Stacks", he brings out his guests The Staves, for a sweet, effortless duet, in which the girls' envelop Vernon's fragile voice with distant wordless harmonies.

It's the show's finale however that really drops jaws. The opening chords of "Calgary" sound spine tingling live, as does the track's emotional climax of clanging guitar and belted vocal, and the burbling soundscape that turns out to be "Lisbon, OH", indicates that "Beth/Rest" is probably coming, and an excited crowd prepare for a send off. But "Beth/Rest" is a revelation that no one could have expected. Everything on paper is cringeworthy. The snare sounds like a building collapsing it's so loud, the notorious Phil Collins electric piano is twangier and more 1980s AOR than ever, and Vernon most noticably sings through a massively compressed autotune device. But it's heartbreakingly perfect. It's melodramatic, but the soul and aggression in Vernon's voice breaks through the autotune, like a battle between Vernon's voice and the machine trying to control it.

UK crowds often give awkward lacklustre pre-encore cheers, heaven forbid it look like we actually want more, but not tonight. The cheers are deafening and enthusiastic for a good 2 minutes until Justin et al reappear. When they do, it's a crowd pleasing closer, with "Skinny Love" prompting the night's only audible singalong, and the venue, no matter how big, suddenly feels intimate and friendly, like a super-sized pub gig. "Wolves" changes that however, with it's cataclysmic outro, encouraging every voice in the place to battle it out with the volume of the music as the entire place yells "what might've been lost" until it's meaning is embedded gloriously into the crowd's subconscious.

"For Emma" completes the circle of Bon Iver 'hits', and as the band take their final bows to the crowd, it feels like no stone has been left unturned; that we have just witnessed something rare, something perfect, something a portion of this occasionally noisy crowd didn't quite deserve, or perhaps expect. One things certain however, there's no one person leaving this venue tonight who isn't flabbergasted by the sheer power of tonight's set. One girl gabs in the cloakroom queue "I feel like I've just been to a rave, I'm on such a high!". And this is exactly what Bon Iver Live equates to: Expectations are exceeded, jaws are dropped, and I leave the venue, surrounded by groups of friends struggling not to lose each other in the mob, actually grateful that I don't have to talk to anyone about what I just experienced. As far as I'm concerned, that was just for me.

SETLIST

Perth
Minnesota, WI
Holocene
Blood Bank
Beach Baby
Hinnom, TX
Wash
Towers
Creature Fear
Re: Stacks
Michicant
Calgary
Lisbon, OH
Beth/Rest
---
Skinny Love
The Wolves (Act I & II)
For Emma

GIG REVIEW: SBTRKT @ Shepherds Bush Empire, London, feat. Kwes & Oneman - 5/10/12

I had a brief preview of SBTRKT's live act at Bestival 2012, and I have to say my enthusiasm for this later London show subsequently began to waver. SBTRKT's live drumming and Sampha-vocal-heavy set seemed to overshadow a quiet and strangely unimpactful mix. But a 9pm festival slot is different from a London venue headline slot, so I turned up as if this was my first SBTRKT- Live experience.

Shepherds Bush Empire looks like it should have a better sound than it does, and if you are anywhere apart from the centre of the dancefloor, the speakers can sound oddly muted. Warm-up DJ Oneman plays some great tunes as the venue slowly fills, but even as the night advances past 8.30, his sets beg to be turned up. Otherwise why put him on the line-up at all?

Although sad at missing a support slot from Disclosure the night before, I was still interested to see the main support act Kwes, a producer and singer/songwriter whose latest EP Meantime was a cute little oddity, a messy yet engaging mix of Frank Ocean-esque R&B and fuzzy electronica not a million miles from the likes of Flying Lotus. Performing with a drummer and keyboardist, Kwes himself plays the heavily distorted bass that is his latest EP's calling card. Yet live, Kwes' act was less engaging, and more messy, much too messy in fact, the overly stripped down arrangements sounding unrehearsed and muddy. It could've been down to neglectful sound engineers or a stingy soundcheck, but nevertheless, the magic-on-record of numbers such as "Honey" and "Igoyh" did not translate tonight. Yet the band themselves chat lazily and casually with the crowd, and with each other, and don't seem to notice.

Luckily Oneman has some big bassy tunes up his sleeve that keep an impatient crowd dancing as the stage is prepared for SBTRKT. Although running about 15 minutes late, a curtain with the unmistakable SBTRKT owl hat finally drops in front of the stage, and SBTRKT, with Sampha and, surprisingly, a mask-donning string quartet make a magnificent entrance as light illuminates them through the curtain. "Never Never" is almost completely performed live, the strings giving the track a warm tapestry for SBTRKT's own live drumming to paint over. Sampha sounds great too, and luckily, the bad sound that plagued Kwes has alleviated. Funny that.

"SBTRKT - Live" as it's donned by the man himself is indeed a very different concept to the quirky, dark productions of SBTRKT on record. There are a lot of idea flying around, most of them great. The somewhat limiting sound of the live drumming I witnessed at Bestival is non-existent here, the drums provided just as much power and impact as the drum machines. "Heatwave" comes next and SBTRKT and Sampha's love of crazy sounds becomes apparent as said track is an onslaught of tribal drumming and flittering synths and vocal samples. The gig quickly escalates into something approaching a celebratory carnival, limbs flailing everywhere.

At times however, the gig seems a little too eager to try everything. Whilst "Hold On" and "Something Goes Right" are crowd pleasing singalongs, some instrumental numbers seem indulgent and overlong in comparison, despite all the creative flairs. SBTRKT - Live isn't sure whether it's a pop concert or a rave, and whilst the two can be easily combined, the duo haven't quite nailed down the perfect formula yet. The mix of live performance and recorded sound is a double edged sword; whilst live drumming stunts a disappointing "Pharoahs", the majestic "Go Bang" is enhanced by the warmth of the string quartet, one of the best instrumental numbers of the night.

On the whole however, when a high is reached, it hits it out of the ballpark. Closer "Wildfire" is simply exquisite, and its bass-heavy breakdowns and vocal mash-ups simply set the dancefloor alight. It is followed by a rave-heavy encore, ending with the pulsating 2 step of "Right Thing To Do", which despite no appearance from Jessie Ware, ends the gig on a high, almost half an hour after the stated finishing time, 2 minutes shy of the venue's curfew.

Credit must be given to SBTRKT, for turning one 40 minute album and a handful of EPs ("Living Like I Do" makes a welcome appearance, although "Nervous" would've been more welcome) into an 90 minute set. Another album down the line, there is no doubt that SBTRKT will be able to fill 90 minutes with ease and with no, absolutely no down time.

- Joe Copplestone, 06/10/12

GIG REVIEW: Gold Dust @ Hoxton Bar & Kitchen, feat. Josh Kumra, Venice, Draper & Saint Lou Lou - 19/09/12

I am not an East London regular, the crowds are a tad too trendy and “If-I-don’t-know-you-you-don’t-exist” for me. An perhaps unfair assumption I once made was that EC2 and N1 residents would turn up to a string of gigs to be seen, rather than to hear the music that was played. I’m sure that’s unfair, but the lack of enthusiasm of tonight’s pouty, moody crowd, as myself and my plus one ease our way through a small yet not-entirely-packed-out back room of Hoxton Bar, suggests a good deal of this crowd are here for fear of doing nothing of an evening. My friend gets barged into and spills a glass of wine on one of them accidentally, and he spends 5 minutes glancing daggers our way. My spirits are lifted.

The line-up is a mix of styles, guaranteed to please every attendee at least once surely, and it’s encouraging to see a line-up that isn’t afraid to be varied. First on, Saint Lou Lou surprise me by turning out to be a four piece band, with two synchronized twin supermodels as singers, as opposed to the misty eyed solo beauty I was imagining. It’s just as well there are two singers, as an overpowering rhythm section slightly drowns out their fashionably twee murmurs. Nevertheless, the twins, dressed entirely in black and with large swimming pool eyes, command the stage with ease, and their gothic indiepop loses none of its haunting charm in this setting. Single “Maybe You” is especially ethereal.

After a cigarette break (not mine), I am filled with a slight resentment at the sight of another young, pretty boy producer, Draper, bouncing around his laptop. It’s standard melodic dubstep; you know the drill, sugar sweet leads and a pummeling bass line, chopped vocals; perfectly acceptable Skrillex-lite. His set ticks all the boxes in his category, and his Ellie Goulding remix is actually fairly glorious, but as Draper air guitars and ping pongs his way through an overlong, samey set, a sparse crowd distances itself from the stage. “Next!” my fidgety plus one shouts.

Venice, who thus far I had unfairly placed on the boy band pedestal alongside Lawson and, dare-I-say One Direction, are the biggest surprise of the night. After two very typically ‘trendy-in-2012’ acts, the clean cut Venice are refreshingly and endearingly uncool. The first act to warmly address the crowd, the band come across as a budding young Killers. Their sparkly lead single “Heart That Could Heal” warms up a frosty room and the mood and crowd is noticeably looser, even if this snooty East London crowd won’t approach the stage for love nor money. Their flirtations with piano house on numbers like “Killer in Me” could not go down better, and the boys could well be The Rapture at some points. By the end of their set, how current and trendy the band are or are not is irrelevant; as my plus one noted, all that mattered was that we were enjoying ourselves and dancing like fools.

The subsequent high spirits of the crowd dwindle, after a lengthy period of Josh Kumra wandering on and off the stage. By the time the pint-sized crooner picks up his guitar and lazily greets us, the crowd is severely diminished. His set of above average singer songwriter material is nevertheless relaxed and professional; he sounds convincing as a headliner. Yet despite his charm, ease and talent, the wistful material sounds somewhat interchangeable with most of his peers. His voice is hella-lovely however, especially on early set highlight “The Answer”, where his higher range strains with a touching authenticity. 

Extortionate London parking fees dictate we must leave halfway through his set, but the sleek delivery of Josh’s set suggests this was probably charming and fuzzy until the end. Which is actually just as well, because there’s only so much charm and fuzz I can take. As we move our way out through a sea of black clothing and unnecessary hats, I leave feeling that the one act who stood out was the one that didn’t try to please this crowd of trend-experts and fashionistas, and as a result, Venice definately pleased them the most.