Pete Doherty at the Leamington Assembly...

On a cool breezy early May evening bustling youths could be found littering the streets of Leamington Spa, they’re dressed like culture guzzling scenesters as they drink from cans and draw breath between cigarette draughts in an air of anticipation. The Assembly hall stands modestly amidst a diner and a nightclub a short distance from the central parade. The venue doesn’t look particularly spectacular from the exterior, but inside the stairwell paves way to an art deco wonder hall of architectural splendour - shapes and intricacies that even the Romans would have been proud of. Previously a ballroom and once a bingo hall, on this night the building played host to ex-tabloid fodder and eternal Libertine Pete Doherty. Although now on a firm streak of maturity, he is billed as ‘Peter’.

He is late. Perhaps this time the reason is down to the traffic on the M40, but in all honesty this kind of anarchic behaviour has come to be expected of the Babyshambles front man and in any case the fans are less bothered about the wait these days. A mere 40 minutes behind schedule, the crowd have been waiting long enough for the levels of excitement to rise, and not quite long enough for waves of agitation to sweep across the standing masses. Semi-surprisingly the venue has not been packed out to it’s full capacity, perhaps revealing once and for all the kind of sway bestowed in the reigns of the media. It’s been a bit quiet on the ‘Potty Pete’ front of late - from the tabloid presses, to the quality music mags - and could it be that the reflection falls on ticket sales?

Fortunately for Pete, his talent and allure can stand strong long after the headlines have swarmed like locusts to leech his worth and vanish with the remains, for he has evident longevity. He has a loyal following too - young and older impressionables alike flock to him like some kind of prestigious god - the leader of the lost. And now on this night he had returned to the midlands; an area he can announce as a ‘home’ after spending part of his adolescence growing up in Bedworth.

Fans were certainly happy to see his return. And so after a few false starts, Peter burst onto the stage with a confidence hard earned after years of spotlight familiarity, with his tall glass of alcoholic coke in hand and his trilby perched proudly on crown - his cigarette still alight after entering from the stage door. And he’s looking good too! Washed hair, a trim physique, and no obvious signs of grubby fingers. The crowd screamed on before their icon, and Pete set up to open with Killamanjiro after a brief but meaningful apology for his later than planned appearance.

From the first note Doherty delivered an energetic and charismatic set which felt as fresh and relevant as when the songs were first written, demonstrating without cause to prove the indispensable passion Pete has relentlessly possessed as a song writer and performer. The majority of the set alternated between past favourites penned historically by himself and Carl Barat during the Libertines’ heyday, and otherwise choices from the Babyshambles repertoire. New Love Grows on Trees and Last of The English Roses broke through noticeably as solo album Grace/Wastelands material, and one particularly nice touch came from a performance of For Lovers - a Wolfman song played with the addition of ballet dancers who joined Pete on stage for a few of the other softer numbers.

Despite it being an acoustic show, the set seemed to fit Pete’s particular mood of the day and the majority of songs were certified peppier numbers such as Can’t Stand Me Now, Time for Heroes and an encore featuring Fuck Forever. Every song was playing with vigor and expression, often set apart by flamenco style outbursts and freeform instrumentals. It was certainly refreshing to hear The 32nd of December along with Bollywood to Battersea; songs which are often neglected from some of the more current live shows. Occasionally Pete relies on his audience’s familiarity to fill-out songs and stands back to await the chanting to hook lines and series of ‘oh oh oh ohs’, himself jiving and circling the stage to a rhythm of his own. A fantastic display of artist to fans interplay.

Other points of interaction involved tossing unopened cans into the sea of ravenous scamps - receiving back the empty ones foaming as they hit the stage, and then capping his performance by launching his plugged guitar centre field. Just shy of two hours and the room had been thoroughly charmed by Doherty’s infectious enthusiasm and Irish shindig style tomfoolery… Even the security staff appeared enraptured at one point.

The generation defining Albion was one of the last songs of the night, and support artist Alan Waas returned to the stage after an earlier mediocre singer-songwriter performance to have another blast at his mouth organ. The moment was well received.

The night ended as it began, with dishevelled rogues and snappy dressers dripping steadily out of the Assembly and disappearing into the woodwork of Leamington’s silent streets. The last contenders lingered on to buy t-shirts and lighters in honour of their idol - let’s just hope that Pete is saving his merchandise fund for something useful.

The Experience of Euphoric Heartbreak.

When Glasgow meets Las Vegas it’s like having The Killers over for tea at Mogwai’s rocket space house in some distant galaxy of harmonia. The Doves have flown in. They’re all drinking from vessels of rapture and nibbling cosmic hot rocks as they ascend to the heights of astral waves. They find Bono there, he is puzzled, and the gang direct him accordingly and wrongly- sending him to a galaxy far away.

Euphoric /// Heartbreak \\\ is the latest album from Glasvegas. After releasing their debut self-entitled album in September 2008 and then a Christmas themed EP in the December of the same year; the band have since found themselves to be nominees for many prestigious awards. They won a total of four times across the tail-end of ‘08 and then further over 2009, walking away with various accolades from the NME, XFM, and the UK Music Video Awards. From the moment Glasvegas first created waves the band have been surely elevated into a strange new world of strenuous touring and countless opportunities of exposure, allowing the Glaswegian four-piece to showcase their original and most exciting ideas.

And now they return to continue along the same flight path - no direction new - just bearing a bigger, more advanced collection which firmly expands on the band that the indie rockers started out to become.

Euphoria, Take My Hand has been the first single on release; a blend of quick-march drums, souring vocals and neat striking riffs. A certified dance number bearing an almost sublime quality; adept and able to transport the listener onto a distant plain of exultancy, firmly uplifted and enlightened.

The same kind of qualities run as a theme on Euphoric Heartbreak- elevation being the key principle. Shine Like Stars is possibly the ultimate song of invincibility to feature on the album; the choral line sailing as though a comet, almost leaving the visual stain of a rainbow entering into the cosmos. There’s definitely no masking that thick Glaswegian accent, and for what reason should there be? It seems that too many bands still attempt to conform to a washed-out vocal style, often American, which makes them compatible with several other genre-sharers. But in reality it’s a joy to hear the uniquity of an accent- almost a home grown quality- and here in this track it shines through completely unpolished.

Sadly, unless listening with absolute attention, Glasvegas can easily come off as repetitive. They echo the same formula; more often than not beginning in a quiet minimalistic place before picking up the pace and intensity, and then feeding it into a climatic explosion. Lots Sometimes does it’s best at reeling the album in from the galactic heights at which we transcend after the debut single rings out, but the track slightly reminiscent of Pulp still works up to moments of grandeur and does no favours to break the pattern.

Change is the most stripped back number on Euphoric Heartbreak. It’s completely non-invasive and the piano sets a sense of stillness, accompanied by soft vocals. Eventually the sound of a women talking (in a Scottish accent) is placed over the top of the tranquil backing. Suddenly it seems we’ve joined in on a couple’s bond in times of broken intimacy - but the voice is actually singer James Allan's mum talking - so with this knowledge alone, the interpretation is subject to change. This is a feature very much evocative of previous works, and the song Stabbed off the first album stands as predecessor to Change in both tone and composition.

And so we are left on a very quiet note after a trip through euphoria. The inter-galactic tea party has come to an end and The Doves and Mogwai have gone their separate ways from The Killers- Bono was never spotted again. But what we’ve truly been shown on this journey of cosmic interchange, has been the flight path of a rocket - from it’s humble beginnings right up into the exhilarating heights. Unfortunately, the pattern has been monotonous and somewhat predictable, feasibly like a drug trip, reaching peaks of sheer ecstasy before dropping into a temporal low again to start the next track. But if you are to take the album as a whole- perhaps ignoring the second’s gap between songs- audiences are in fact offered a voyage of musical storytelling; intelligent composition included. Play it at 4am through a good speaker system in order to experience Euphoric Heartbreak to the full, and let Glasvegas take you on a journey.

Aiming to Please (leaving a fuzzy taste on the lips)…

Coventry band bound for mixed reviews.

LipShock… some kind of car accessory? Or possibly an unpleasant 4am experience - whether that be involving some victim of beer-goggle fantasy, or perhaps a kind of vendor van food. No, actually the title belongs to five disconcerting and rather brutish young men signed to Ghoulish Records, currently preparing for the release of their forth-coming debut album.

Grit n’ Glitter is what you have to anticipate- available in shops and online May 23rd- and composed suitably to grab someone’s attention. Who that someone is hasn’t yet been confirmed, but it is quite imaginable that there’s around three kinds of people who can possibly relate to such a collection of thuggish macho licks and brash invasive clamour*.

It’s practically an explosion in order for Peanut, Mikk, Johnny, Wurzul and Woodsy to officially announce that they have arrived in a sort of brash, depraved, predatory mission for bitches and booze kind of a way - which presumably, has never quite gone to plan.

For all intents and purposes LipShock are a heavy rock band with metal roots streaming in from the days of Mötley Crüe, Kiss, Velvet Revolver, and… Bad News?? If you take it for what it is, then you have good high energy, uplifting riffs, neatly woven composition, and sing-alongable vocals. It’s undeniably well produced and frivolously fun.

But if you were to take it seriously, then generic is unfortunately the word that comes flooding so very fluidly to mind. We as receptors, having experienced decade after decade of sensory bombardment are not being offered anything new or remotely inspiring from Grit n’ Glitter. This spans from vocal style coupled with death metal bands - littered with innuendo and inferably offensive connotation; to conventionally thick riffs, token overdrive, and the occasional motorcycle purr - Cryptic Bitch standing as the perfect example. And after track four the album suddenly becomes extremely repetitive and leaves nothing to the unexpected. Though this album definitely poses the question does music have to be original to be enjoyed for what it is?

Lyrically LipShock are archetypical and outwardly shallow. Divin’ in the Deep End just about sums up the size of it with "Get up and get out, shake that ass about" being the prominent line; painting a perfectly apt picture of equally as depraved women, rustled up somewhere along the lines who presumably walked out unimpressed.

But even the most starched feminists would surely agree that the lads are not completely without their charms, and the charisma cannot possibly be denied of the quintet (not to say fivesome) in the flesh or in the music. Their tunes would make for a good biker bar movie soundtrack if not a Harley advert - therefore losing the band points for originality, yet racking them up tenfold for catchiness. Track six Glamourize repeatedly chants "Sex! Drugs! Rock and Roll! Far! Out! On the dole!". Now would you have Adam and Eve-ed it?

GnG is not however without it’s softer numbers as well (albeit obligated), proving that there’s some real beauty to be found across the 12 tracks. Faith in Lies is the first of the softer tracks, and also one of the better songs on the album. Then Hey Gina starts acoustically, intermittently flows in and out of intense motions, but then really just comes down to a story of a women and her methods of self-gratification. The track does the best job at confirming and almost glamourizing the ignorant macho bullshit theme raging through this record as a whole. Over and Out is the final attempt at gentle and heartfelt, and the strings on this track courtesy of Edd Cotrill are stunning.

Grit n’ Glitter is definitely not for everyone - but it will certainly appeal to those with a taste for retro flamboyant 70’s rock metal. To put it simply the record is by no means of poor quality. But it could possibly come across somewhat like a group of sexually inept predators desperately trying to overcompensate for their inadequacies with a self-assertive, guns blazin’, and shallow onslaught. Though if you take track eight Come Inside as the final example, it just about sums up the lack of seriousness required when listening to Grit n’ Glitter.

*Meat heads.
*Asinine teenagers.
*Anyone concerned extensively with drink and women- apart from Father Jack who would possibly define LipShock as ‘gobshites’ all the same.

Let England Shake!

The latest addition to PJ Harvey’s highly reputable back catalogue.

Polly Jean Harvey appears to have travelled over land and sea to arrive at her latest album, and it’s been a journey capturing every salty droplet and breathy wind from lands afar. Let England Shake shows just how wide one artist can fan her tail feathers of diversity, and push ego aside to sing from the back of the stage. But still I’m not quite bowled over by it‘s brilliance…

This time around Harvey refrains from directing her own emotional experience instead to channelling the world’s angst through the eyes of the bystander. Reuniting with long-term producer and collaborator John Parish, the qualms of our native England are caressed compassionately and only exchanged temporarily whilst the country’s vocalist turns her attentions toward the eastern world.

The approach of an artist such as Bob Dylan, who was quickly labelled as a protest singer in the 1960s for channelling observations from outside of his immediate vision. But just as Dylan did not intend to sing anthems of rebellion, it must be stressed that this is not a protest album. It is instead a political commentary of sorts- not to cast the album in a diminutive light- but rather to illustrate the passive means adopted by Harvey to voice the world’s affliction.

Let England Shake starts with it’s title track, which jingles and jangles away somewhat akin to a child’s rhyme and addresses an impending doom; to be brushed off blithely by the line ‘laugh our loud’. A satirical start. The album as a whole bears an archaic quality as though it’s been hundreds of years in the making; having been crafted amidst monasteries, nunneries and far out in the Wiccan woods. Camp fire sessions perhaps?

Recording took place in a 19th Century church in Dorset which is positioned atop of cliff overlooking the sea. Is it possible to hear such an influence? I can only imagine staring out across the expanse, directed toward the countries of great conflict and venting an empathetic wind from the town I‘m most connected to. At this point I begin to wish I was in another country, with a warmer climate and less chance of getting blown of a cliff such as this…

Polly Jean IS a musical genius, and now she’s practically cemented the fact. The depth of the composition woven from sound through lyric now ascends the ages, and proves to show that what is now the eighth album from Harvey is possibly the most accomplished. A stand-out line from the song All and Everyone pertains that "Death was in the stare of sun, fixing it’s eyes on everyone". Beautifully personified and a perfectly universal metaphor.

It has indeed been worked towards, and there have been some rather impressive records along the way to contend; such as Bring Me To Life- which was brought to life when Harvey went solo in ‘93- and further down the line- Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea. With lyrics including ‘I can’t believe life’s so complex when I just want to sit here and watch you undress’, and ‘How long must I suffer? Dear God I’ve served my time..’ A selfless jump has been made at some point in order to reach Let England Shake.

But with depth and intelligence pushed aside, how well can this album stand up on audible values alone? Yes it’s nice that a sense of passivity emanates from Harvey as opposed to our ears being drummed like we’re receiving history lessons on Nazi war camps by a defensive German. But what’s really important when you’re buying an album?

As much as I admire Polly Jean and so many of the moves she makes in her career; I would not spend time listening to this album once having checked what it’s all about. And I feel that I should apologise for this somehow. But compared to previous albums containing no two songs alike, we’re suddenly presented with not only a running theme- but also some very similar songs. It gets repetitive and quite hard work to identify the discrepancies between from track to track. You can hear the power that PJ has collected in her voice over the years, yet without the warrant to tap into the full emotional array of it. Some will be pleased she has moved more toward folk and away from raw angsty blues- as I am pleased that she bears the ability and the diversity to arrive at such a sound.

I will close with a line from the song England, which at track seven summates Harvey’s mindset during her fresh new decade. Let the words "I live and I die through England" align your mind for the listen; and then may you Let England Shake…

Out To Lanch!

‘Out to Lanch’ recently celebrated the opening night of a free exhibition looking at Coventry’s musical history.

The launch took place at 2-Tone Central located in the university’s SU where some of the world’s biggest names in music to this day once passed through the corridors during the days of the Lanchester Polytechnic.

As a part of the opening night, one-time wonders Jimmy Jimmy- the twosome who found their claim to fame after playing on the streets of Birmingham as buskers in the early 1980s, have not long reunited to play a set in the present-day Lanch.

Although almost impossible to envision now; artists such as Oasis, U2, The Who and Elton John have all graced the halls, rooms, and undoubtedly the toilets of a building which currently hosts the sitting of exams, the grabbing of mid-morning snacks, the calling into the uni’s radio or newspaper office (the Source), or perhaps even gown-fitting for graduation.

The exhibition goes to show how the building located near to the Cathedral on University Square hasn’t always been the bearer of such mundane activity. Pete Chambers, local music aficionado and the host of the evening, had this to say about the Lanch’s significance..

"There’s a fantastic history here and we wanted to remind and educate people- the ones that didn’t know- of what actually went on here and about some of the bands because it was quite iconic- particularly in the 70s because we had the Lanchester Arts Festivals."

The exhibition itself contains memorabilia of bands and artists involved in the former art’s festivals, original photographs courtesy of local documenter John Coles (one of the many familiar faces present for the launch), hats and suits once worn by icons such as Pauline Black, old lyric sheets and compositions, badges, and videoed interviews in and amongst the collection.

The venue has previously provided a great platform in particular for 2-tone Records’ artists (on the label that received it’s name from Specials’ keyboardist Jerry Dammers) with bands such as The Selecter and Bad Manners playing the Lanch as was alongside the Ghost Town dwellers themselves.

As Pete explains, "My Ding-a-ling, that number one by Chuck Berry which was recorded at Tiffany’s, the Lacarno at the time, but it was part of the Lanchester Arts Festival so we were able to bring it in to the actual exhibition. Chuck Berry was supported by Slade and later on at the concert there was Pink Floyd playing"- almost names that span so far across the globe that it generously taxes the mind to imagine that they ever played in a city also famed for the motor car industry, and ever endearing Big Brother star: Bex.

The exhibition also reminds us about the night Coventry had it’s own Free Trade Hall moment, when thanks to the Buzzcocks; the Pistols played in Manchester to a room of about 40, which just so happened to contain future mover-shakers Tony Wilson of Factory Records, members from Joy Division, The Smiths and the Happy Mondays, and also erm… Mick Hucknall.

Pete remarks that, "When the Pistols played here in Coventry the first time before they became tabloid fodder- in the crowd that night there were members to be of the Specials and that was the night that changed everything for Coventry."

It was practically history in the making. And now we can reflect upon or in fact learn the significance of the Lanch with a chequered monochrome room selling memorabilia, and a free exhibition. Both locatable in the Coventry University SU, officially open as 2-Tone Central.

DON'T MOVE!

DON'T MOVE! represent the ultimate in shaggy-haired, woolly-jumpered, accordion-playing, decently wholesome pop bands. They are fun-loving, colourful, catchy, and most importantly- an incredibly talented bunch of lads pouring their souls out into qualitative tunes.

Think Love. The Beatles. The Byrds. The 60s! So delightfully retro, without an ounce of contrived pretention. Matt, Joe, Mason, and Cedrick Confuegos simply are.

Having come from parents who played their sort of hippy-ish, folksy – to rocky, guitar driven music, the boys found their inspiration very early on... They just had to find each other.

“Part of being a teenager is you discover your little secrets and the things that make you feel better than everyone else. We each had our musical loves that did that for us, and we shared it together and wrote songs we were kind of influenced by” reveals Mason Le Long the band’s front man.

They came together through mutual friends on a night out, when a mate of Joe’s decided to ditch him in place for couples’ capers, and Joe was left stuck with Mason. The two, living in Leamington at the time, went back to Mason’s house for a joint and a jam- where it was that Joe decided “oh man, you play like Jimi Hendrix man”. And the seeds were officially sown for DON'T MOVE!’s potential. Matt Rheeston and Mr Confuegos were then poached earnestly along the way.

The duo that is Mason and Joe, are akin to American disco band Chic. “The song writing duo of Nile Rogers and Bernard Edwards were at the core of the band Chic” reveals Joe. “Mason is really into Nile Rogers’ guitar playing, I’m really into the bass playing and we both like their songs and their band- so they’re like our heroes I suppose”. Lyrics are then often crafted out of bitterness and resentment, capitalized on by the band’s first album The New Pop Sound Of. Mason jokes blithely how the “first record is pretty much a bitterness concept album”.

And with such breezy sweet acrimony officially on sale at Tin Angel Records, surprisingly it takes a fair while to construct these potent emotions to the stage of completion. “I come up with a bass line, and three years later it might be a song” Joe adds with whimsical finesse.

“We spent about two years writing songs and practising them, and just sitting on our little secret. Getting stoned together and writing and not even playing our first gig until a year and a half after we started” comments Mason.

The Tin Angel is not only Coventry’s coolest cafe bar, record shop and label; but it’s also a sanctuary for DON'T MOVE! “I don’t think we’d still be around, or even alive if it weren’t for the Tin”, Mason discloses. The band came over from Leamington one night to do an open mic, and found themselves immediately ‘discovered’ by their manager Rich Guy.

“A couple years later we were working here, four years later we were living here, now we just use this place to practise and work as well” Joe muses of his home-from-home, come feeding ground. Mason too shudders at an existence independent from the Tin.

Up next for the band, is a single released early next year featuring jazz angel of the Tin Devon Sproule- with arrangements and production courtesy of fellow label-resident Mantler. But to immerse yourself in the blissfully melodic DON'T MOVE! for the meantime; the boys are doing a small UK tour in December, and their current album is available online and at Tin Angel Records. Wise investment.

Detroit Social Club

Newcastle’s answer to Motor City.

What do you know about Detroit Social Club? Other than that they’re an NME favourite band, they also happen to be one of the most prolific and unpretentious of contemporary music.

Emerging from Tyneside, their debut album Existence was released earlier this year containing singles Kiss the Sun and Northern Man. The band are currently touring the UK (occasionally dropping a date with Ian Brown), and it was in Birmingham pre-gig at the Rainbow on Digbeth Road that I caught up with singer David Burn.

They are an exceptional band for live shows. Their style may remind you of mid-seventies Manchester when alternative music turned to post-punk, and bands such as Joy Division and then later the Happy Mondays piped with industrial strength from behind keyboards and striking tinny drums. Very atmospheric indeed. Imagine a room full of pilled-up ravers thumping and jerking, very much in unison with their god-like singer-come-divinity afore the stage.

Front man David admits that it’s actually the decade of free love and revolution by which he’s most inspired; "I like more music from the 60s than any other decade, I think that’s the time that music became culturally relevant".

The band’s myspace states that they are ‘in no way inspired by Kate Nash’, which effectively leaves an entire sea of music remaining to shape in ebbs and flows the notes of their fancy. But there are certainly a few prominent comparisons within Detroit Social Club’s indie alternative genre; The Verve, Kasabian, The Doves, and Super Furry Animals to name a few.

But being fundamentally a guitar-driven band, David is concerned that there’s less and less of a place for organic rock bands at the moment. "Radio is getting a lot more picky, so therefore there are less guitar bands coming out. But that might be more of a result of a Britpop hangover, because we had the Libertines movement- then 2005 was about the Arctic Monkeys. So perhaps it’s time to take a backseat."

This would surely be a sad reality, and sadly it’s mostly true. The market seems essentially driven by synth-thetic electronica, disposable waste paper pop, and the bands of substance have a harder time making headway. "Record labels have become scared to put anything a little bit more avant-garde out and they have to go for that big hook, the pop song. New bands don’t have any platforms to exhibit their talent". A statement so observantly put by Detroit’s singer.

Fortunately for the sake of his, and every other aspiring mover and shaker’s mental state; David’s admirable attitude has ironed out the folds of fame before the big-time has become truly unavoidable. "A lot of bands think that being cool or having integrity is mutually exclusive to having commercial success, when I don’t think it is" he says. "As long as you know that you’re writing genuine music, then whether it sells records or not doesn’t matter".