Gigging Forever Awards 2014: Part Two

Ok, back again to resume our fictitious awards ceremony - head back to part one if you missed it, before taking your seat over there between Jarvis Cocker getting ready to disrupt someone's inappropriate performance and a coked-up record label exec.

(Yes that was probably the last time I watched the Brit Awards...)

Best album by a Swedish dark-Electronica-based band whose name starts with I

The Nominees: 

iamamiwhoami: Blue

Iamamiwhoami have become quite a fixture in my end of year lists (of which this is self-evidently not one), and I'd pencilled in this latest instalment of their monthly multimedia moody-electro-pop extravaganza for obvious winner of this hard fought category - and with the quality of music on offer here, it should have been... but who knew there was such strong competition on the way?

Actually this is the first time I've done the whole "buy each track as a single as it comes out" thing, and what it's meant is that, as an album, this feels very uneven to me now - the first track "Fountain" was lovely when it came out in January, but I've heard it so many times now that the weird breathy, whisper-y section in the middle makes me want to throw kanelbullar at Jonna Lee's head, whilst the last track "Shadowshow" I can barely remember yet. 

In the middle, though, there's the stunning "Hunting for Pearls" which has just the right balance of dark and light to keep you coming back time and again, the gorgeously upflifting "Blue Blue", and the Brazilian electro-carnival chaos that is "Ripple". What the hell "Tap Your Glass" is all about though, I have no idea. I'll just have a look at the video... no, no, none the wiser. 

I will say, this year's videos (one per song, making an ongoing narrative which someone, somewhere can probably understand) are the best so far- the weird furry monsters seem to have disappeared, to be replaced by lots of dancing about near water, celebrating nature and being chased by creepy figures dressed in block body stockings. I'm all for that. 

I Break Horses - Chiaroscuro

A new band to me late in 2013 thanks to their stunning support slot for Sigur Ros, Maria Lindén and Fredrik Balck really stepped up a gear from their shoegaze-y debut this year with this bleak, dark, other synonym for dark, moody second album. From the frenetic and nervous "Faith" (Track of the year?) to the haunting futuristic film-noir soundtrack "Medicine Brush", via the just ruddy-bloody gorgeous "Denial" and "Weigh True Words", this album is very nearly perfect. I do pretend it finishes before the last track, though, sorry. 

Winner: I Break Horses. Ultimately, I just like things a little bleak and depressing- and damn it, Iamamiwhoami, you just got a tiny bit too nice, cheerful and major key this year, with your sunny beach videos and Latin American carnival vibes. Still love ya, though. 

The Best Mike Oldfield album of 2014

The nominees:

Mike Oldfield: Man on the Rocks

Nah. Just no, no and no again. With a side order of "NOOOOOOO!!!!" (See why here.)

Rob Reed: Sanctuary

Oh now, this is much more like it - this actually sounds like a Mike Oldfield album. In fact it sounds like all the Mike Oldfield albums put into a salad spinner. In fact I don't think this is an album at all, I think it's an elaborate puzzle - the first person to work out which Mike Oldfield track each 30 seconds of music here is based on wins a trip over Hergest Ridge on horseback. 

I want to hate this album with every fibre of my being for being so blatant... And yet, and yet. It's annoyingly well done, and there are some great tunes. (Even if they are basically by Mike Oldfield- run through a note-randomiser). 

Although, I just re watched this video in which Rob Reed smashes up a record exec's office for not taking his album seriously, so now I'm quite fine with hating it - also those A&R guys at table 12 are looking a bit miffed so let's move on...

Matt Berry: Music for Insomniacs

Yes, the guy from "Toast of London". Yes, he's made an album of eerie synth and chanting vocal music, upon which he plays everything, Oldfield-stylee, and Yes, it was largely created when he was trying and failing to sleep. Yes, I CAN hear you, Clem Fandango.   

Now, I'm not going to pretend this is hugely innovative either, but it is weird and it doesn't obviously follow a pattern that I can discern, and it also has the decency to sound like Jean-Michel Jarre and Tangerine Dream at the same time as Tubular Bells, so for that reason I'm in. 

Winner: Matt Berry. YEEEESSSSSS. 

Best retro-60's/early 70's psych/Canterbury- type rock album 

The nominees:

Temples - Sun Structures

Brought here to you from the summer of '68 by means of some freaky musical teleportation device, here come Temples with their brand of fuzzy, sunny, hazy sounding psychedelic rock tunes - and oh, what tunes they are, it's physically impossible to be unhappy whilst listening to this album, and believe me I've tried. Here you go, here's 'Keep in The Dark', and 'Mesmerise' which aren't necessarily my faves, but look, they've got videos which tell you exactly what you think about the band without having to try too hard. Sweet. 

Syd Arthur - Sound Mirror

Skipping on a few years to 1970, let's imagine we're in Canterbury (no, not the Canterbury where my parents went to university which apparently didn't contain ANY of the amazing music I know to have been happening there, I mean the one where people went out and saw bands and got into the whole scene, man...) - and here come a fresh faced new prospect, Syd Arthur, with their somewhat harder, rockier, less fuzzy and "peace and love" approach to the turn of the decade. With twisting time-signatures and interesting chords, they may be onto something - something that should maybe get a name beginning with P, can't think what now. It's happening though, and it's here.

Check out 'Garden of Time' here, cause it's on YouTube and everything, which makes it rather easier to do so...

Winner: Very close, but Temples just win out here. Tune after tune after tune of top summery smashes. Mind you, I've not tried listening to it in winter, it might sound awful...

Tune in next time for more made-up and hastily decided-upon awards...

Album Review - Mike Oldfield: Man on the Rocks

Let's get a couple of things straight before we start, shall we?

I've mentioned before how Mike Oldfield was my first musical love, and also how this awakening took place during the late 80's, when as well as symphonic masterpieces like 'Ommadawn' and 'Incantations' that I had the joy of being able to discover all at once, there were also new albums like 'Islands' and 'Earth Moving' to purchase, get confused by and then see for what they were –  shimmering, Atari ST-produced monuments to chart pop music which still managed to retain some of the sense of adventure from his previous work. (See 'Far Country' for a perfect example – guitar solo by Adrian Belew, prog fans!)

"I'm pretty sure I dropped my keys down there somewhere..."

Also, a cursory glance at my end of year lists since I started this blog will reveal that I'm not some hobbit-bothering pretentious anti-philistine who proclaims that anything resembling a proper song, or with any vaguely modern sounds is to be feared and backed into a corner and poked with a stick.

So - having said all that... this album's not very good, is it? Allow me to explain, as we go through the album chronologically from the good to the "meh" to the "I think I'm just going to put something else on now".

Opener 'Sailing' didn't do anything for me at first – probably something to do with the video, which just puts me in mind of someone who's brought their tragically hip rocker boyfriend home to meet their dad, who then insists on getting out his guitar and "jamming on a few numbers". But a week staying with my parents and the Radio 2 playlist gradually drummed it into me to the point where I woke up humming it one day, so it's probably quite a good song. In fact  I would say that the first 3 songs are all pretty good in a 'Moonlight Shadow' / 'Crime of Passion' kind of a way, and worth listening to – the title track in particular managing to summon up something approaching emotion.



It's with track 4, 'Castaway' where things start to drop off, and you first start to notice all the niggles which then annoy you for the rest of the album. Firstly, the lyrics aren't brilliant, and in fact consist largely of repeating the song title over and over again – perhaps it's in case you've forgotten what it's called and accidentally click on it to play it again. Also, some of the guitar solos don't sound like that long was spent on them, which used to be charming in the Tubular Bells days, but now just sounds a bit like someone who lives in the Bahamas and wants to get back outside to the veranda and stare at the sea.

'Minutes' is basically just 'Sailing' again with a different chorus - it's one thing doing 'Man in the Rain' 15 years after 'Moonlight Shadow' but maybe leave it a bit more than 20 minutes next time, eh? And 'Nuclear' is perhaps the worst lyrical offender:

“Standing on the edge of the crater, like the prophets once said.
And the ashes are all cold now, No more bullets and the embers are dead.”

Gee thanks, Adrian Mole. Still, although Luke Spiller's vocals are kind of generic in a Max Bacon sort of a way, he's a good singer and does his best at trying to imbue some feeling into what he's given, like a man trying to wring some emotion out of the Argos catalogue.

'Chariots' starts promisingly, with some chugga-chugga sounds, a nice guitar riff, and a fat old groove from Leland Sklar on the bass, and in fact proves the last good song on the album, for my money.  “Chariots to carry us home'” is a bit of a naff rhyme, but it's better than “You are omnipotent when you're innocent” I suppose. 'Following the Angels', though, is where things start to really go off the rails (or, hit the rocks, eh? Hahaha!) There's a promising start with a nice melody and a couple of interesting chords, but it then turns into 7 minutes of the exact same chord progression, melody and, mostly, lyrics going round and round and round with the addition here and there of a half arsed guitar solo and some gospel choir vocals to try and make you think something new's happening. But it's not. And you know it.

'Irene' is one of the most generic, cookie cutter, two chord 'Blues Rock' songs I've ever heard, even with its plastic horns, and should be torched into oblivion. And then there's 'I Give Myself Away', which I have never made it all the way through until just now, due to the first minute making me lose the will to live, and should probably be retitled 'I Wish I Had Given This Album Away'.

So, I make that four good songs. And none of them are even half as passionate or interesting as 'To France', 'North Point', 'Holy', 'Heaven's Open' or even 'Man in the Rain'.

After my first disappointing listen, I went and looked at the reviews which Mike's PR lady asked people to post on Amazon, and surprisingly they were all 5-star, aside from a few which dared to offer the alternative opinion that perhaps this album wasn't the best thing ever. After each and every one of those, someone else had posted a comment insisting that they go and listen to the bonus disc of instrumentals, as if some 'Songs of Distant Earth'-esque instrumental masterpiece would emerge once the vocals had been taken off. So I'm listening to that right now on Spotify. It sounds like an album of backing tracks to not very interesting songs. (Although, dammit, I just got to 'Castaway' and it's infinitely better without the non-lyrics. Damn you, Mike for spoiling my pithy ending sentence.)

Rating: 2/5
Buy: Man on the Rocks / Chariots / Castaway (Instrumental)
Stream: Sailing / Moonshine
Destroy, with whatever comes to hand: Nuclear / Irene / I Give Myself Away

25th May 2013: "Tubular Bells For Two" / Brett Winterford - Union Chapel, London

Gig 2 of this week's 4 - can I do any better at sticking to my 500 word self-imposed goal?

In many ways this evening is exactly the same as the previous night's Rush gig.  (No, really, stick with it.) Arriving at the Union Chapel and taking up our preferred balcony spot in what is fast becoming our favourite London venue, there's a wonderful light show already in progress, as the summer evening sun streams through the stained glass windows and casts a beautiful glow upon the entire venue. The stage set-up is actually even better than Rush, with the best pulpit I've ever seen at a rock gig, and a wonderful selection of instrument porn all nicely laid out for us to gawp at. They've even got just as many pyrotechnic devices, albeit on a somewhat smaller scale, as the gentle tealights around the periphery of the auditorium set just the right tone for an evening of what I am going to try to avoid calling ‘New Age’ music. A few joss sticks and some patchouli, and we'd have the perfect setting.

I wasn't sure whether I wanted to come along to this, I'll be honest. How could a rendition of one 45-minute album from the 1970's constitute a whole evening's entertainment worth spending £25 on? But what swung it in the end is just how few chances there have been in my gig-going lifetime to see any of Mike Oldfield's music played live – and as you may recall, I've been obsessed with the man's output since I was 6 years old. In fact, the one and only occasion to date was an unexpected rendition of ‘North Point’ by Chapman Stick player Carrie Melbourne opening for ReGenesis many years ago. I can still feel the tingles just thinking about it now, and I don't just think that's because I'm on a long haul flight and my leg's gone to sleep.

The question of how they're filling a whole evening is answered by the improbably high microphone at the front of the stage, which is soon occupied by Aussie giant Brett Winterford, a friend of the TBFT duo from back home. Brett spends a fantastic 30 minutes, filling the wonderful decommissioned church with his soulful vocals and nifty guitar playing – although it does help that his songs are mighty impressive too. Brett's slightly overwhelmed at being here to play for us tonight in this marvelous venue, tells us what amazing, if slightly scary fans Mike Oldfield has, and asks for our indulgence as he decides to find out what it's like to sing completely unamplified in this amazing space. Answer- if you're Brett Winterford, absolutely spine-chilling. I'm not recommending it for everyone, mind you.

Soon Brett comes to his last song, a message of hope for the future entitled 'The End of Shame', and with absolutely no ado, leaves us to listen to Pink Floyd's ‘Echoes’ for a few minutes before Daniel Holdsworth and Aidan Roberts, aka "Tubular Bells for Two" arrive on stage to tumultuous applause. They'd better live up to the hype, is all I'm saying.

Settling in like musical hoarders amongst the pile of instruments at their stations on either side of the stage, Daniel on stage right kicks off the familiar tinkling piano intro, and we're off on a journey which excites and entertains more than the sight of two guys playing someone else's 70's instrumental album ought to. At each station, there are racks of keyboards, which both guys play studiously, slightly like they're at the controls of the Starship Enterprise, whilst somehow managing to play guitars and basses slung around their necks, as well as glockenspiel and other percussion that's conveniently sitting about nearby, and of course turning on and off the technology that makes this spectacle possible.

And therein lies the key to tonight's performance – as everyone who cares knows, Mike Oldfield played the whole album himself, overdubbing instrument upon instrument on top of himself until the tape nearly wore through. Recreating it all live with just two people, without using any pre-recorded elements, is a wonderful way of paying homage to this incredible feat, and has serious potential for disaster. As each of the guys plays a musical motif, it gets looped around to continue on playing whilst they move to the next theme, which is probably on a completely different instrument (and may or may not actually be on the other side of the stage.) Just looping and then stopping everything at precisely the right times must surely be the hardest thing to get right in the entire show?

But get it right they do, producing a completely live and wonderful rendition of ‘Part One’ which is essentially the album version, with perhaps a few arrangement ideas from the Orchestral version thrown in. Boring and predictable it certainly is not. Visually, though, the fun is just beginning, as we get towards the climactic section of ‘Part One’, and Aidan on stage left is left to play a repeating motif whilst Daniel leaps up from his station like a man who's just been violated with a giant suppository of pure electricity. He runs around, moving instruments into various strategic positions, plugging and unplugging cables, taking a comedy swig of beer (which gets a huge laugh and breaks the rather serious atmosphere), and then finally stops the loop pedal in preparation for the main event.

Yes, it's easy to see how the whole concept for this evening could have grown out of the last 8 minutes of ‘Part One’ alone, with its roll-call of various exotic instruments all playing the same theme, layering on top of each other one by one before coming to a head with the eponymous Tubular Bells which are indeed present and correct tonight and hit with accuracy and gusto by Aidan, prompting a huge cheer. Both the guys make this 8 minutes as much of a visual spectacle as an audio delight, running about, playing all the instruments on the stage, prompting much ‘Oooh, are they going to make it?’ (a-la Phil Collins on 'In the Air Tonight'), Aidan playing the part of the announcer with as much delight, if slightly less eccentricity than the album. (Less eccentric than Viv Stanshall – I think anyone could live with that.)

The bells fade away, gentle acoustic guitar strumming brings the first half to a close, and the whole venue gets to its feet. Our Aussie friends look genuinely shocked at the response, and scurry off backstage, from where a disembodied voice suddenly announces that they've gone to turn the record over. Har-de-har-har!

If Part Two is less explosive, the reasons lie solely with Mike himself, as the music is rather more reflective and less in-your-face than the first half, but everything kicks back into life again halfway through, as Daniel reveals himself to be an excellent drummer, Aidan turns out to make a great caveman/pianist and, um, Daniel again manages to "play" the guitar solos by humming (or screeching) them whilst drumming. It's another bonkers highlight. When the whole piece comes to a close with the Sailors' Hornpipe and there's another full standing ovation, it's at this point that I really do wonder what is next – although we don't have long to wait.

“Any Mike Oldfield nerds in the audience?” – there's a murmur. “Sorry, experts, I mean…” – more of a laugh. “We’re going to try an experiment in a bit with something you might know – but first, we’d like to play you some of our own stuff…” – there’s a palpable tension. What if their own stuff is rubbish and we can't easily leave without looking rude?

Luckily, we needn't have worried. Each of the guys plays one of their own, quite varied songs, proving that you don't have to sound like Ed Sheeran or some other aggravating bellend just because you're a man with an acoustic guitar. One of the songs is positively Dylan-esque, and the other is equally fine in a different way – it's no wonder that by the time we get downstairs all the promised cards for a free download of some of their material are long gone.

So, what's the treat for the Oldfield nerds? Well, it's pretty much exactly what this Oldfield nerd had hoped for - a somewhat loose and experimental stab at some of ‘Ommadawn’ Part One. It's clearly a work in progress but when it works, it works, especially when they tackle the closing section of the piece with the tribal drums and chanted harmony vocals. More of this next time, please, chaps. It segues neatly into a reprise of the climatic section of ‘Tubular Bells Part One’, during which Daniel gets to have a go on the bells instead, but doesn't get a cheer. Sorry mate, we're harder to impress the second time around.

Another ovation and a bow, and it's all over. It's been a far better evening than either of us anticipated, but most importantly, were there tingles? Indeed there were. Although that could have just been the effect of 2 hours sitting on a church pew.  I strongly urge anyone with a passing interest in Mike Oldfield, ‘Tubular Bells’, tubular bells, music, performance art, or life to go and catch them somewhere on this extensive UK tour. Who knows when they'll be back?

Oh good, this one’s even longer. Balls.