LIVE IN LONDON!!!
January, February, March & April 2019

     
Time, once again, to take a little look back at the finest live moments that the year of 2019 has had to offer throughout it's first third. Summer is almost upon us - and that means t-shirt weather, big outdoor gigs and festivals that lay on the finest bands and artists from all over the globe. However, the first few months of each year always throw up some real highlights gig-wise, and although it can sometimes be a tad difficult to raise oneself from the sofa and leave the warm comforts of home when the weather is as inclement as it can sometimes get during our wonderful winters, I grabbed my coat on a fair few occasions and braved the elements for some stellar events.

There was only one gig in January that was attractive enough for me to leave the house for and that was a sparkling solo set from My Morning Jacket's hirsute head honcho Jim James, who popped over to Camden to perform as part of the In The Round series at the venerable old Roundhouse theater. Ostensibly touring Europe on the back of last year's excellent 'Uniform Distortion' and 'Uniform Clarity' albums, James arrived on stage dressed accordingly for the chilly North London air in a long, black frock coat and chunky boots.

Flanked by a myriad of acoustic and electric guitars, JJ proceeded to thrill the faithful following who'd made the trip out with glorious versions of MMJ classics like Dondante, Golden, Hillside Song and I'm Amazed, as well as a handful of tunes from the 'Uniform' albums such as All In Your Head, Throwback, and the really rather fantastic No Use Waiting. Extra marks too for a fabulous version of Here In Spirit from 2016's criminally overlooked 'Eternally Even' album. His falsetto was on spectral form and there were a smattering of hilarious 'on tour' style anecdotes to lighten the mood. He ended the set with a brace of cuts from his first solo album 'Regions Of Light And Sound Of God' and left the stage with the sound of chiming feedback in our ears. A lovely way to start 2019's gigular travails.

February kicked off in fine style with a welcome return to the UK for early 90's indie-rock hero and - to his eternal chagrin - bubblegrunge dreamboat Evan Dando who brought his current Lemonheads lineup to Kentish Town's Forum to promote the recently released 'Varshons 2' album. Dando has been enduring a hefty case of writer's block in recent times and thusly, the new album is only his first in ten years and follows on from 2009's 'Varshons 1' - both records being collections of cover versions. His personal travails and various addictions over the last couple of decades seem to have caused his once fecund writing abilities to dry up completely. A real shame as his early 90's albums - especially the still magisterial 'It's A Shame About Ray' - are as good as it gets. The new record doesn't pull up any trees particularly but some of the covers, which include tracks by The Jayhawks, Nick Cave and the Eagles, are quite lovely. In the main though, it's a very loose and laid-back affair - pretty much like Dando himself these days, who ambles onto the stage at this gig looking like he hasn't changed his clothes in a week and in dire need of a warm bath. Backed by a four-piece band, including long-time Lemonheads stalwart Chris Brokaw on lead guitar, Dando proceeds to take the expectant audience on a rambling and ramshackle journey through his nigh-on 35 year career. Holding firm to the sound of his beloved country-rock shuffles - recent pics have shown Dando still wearing that faded Gram Parsons tee he was sporting in the 90's - the band touch on the new album only twice which is typical Dando, choosing instead to barrell through a whole host of other covers from the likes of Teenage Fanclub and John Lennon. There is of course, tons of his classic alt-indie hits to keep the crowd happy with sterling renditions of the joyously uplifting Into Your Arms, the fantastically janglesome Confetti, the call and response wonder of Down About It and the frankly peerless alt-rock nirvana of Rudderless. All the while, the band coalesce together gloriously and Dando's vocals - which, considering the battering that heroin has given his body in the past - are still deep, resonant and warm. His solo acoustic interludes were especially pleasing with the still eyebrow-raising candour of Big Gay Heart and the utterly wonderful paean to ennui of The Outdoor Type standing tall and strong. The latter also contains possibly the finest couplet he's ever written too: "I can't go away with you on a rock-climbing weekend. What if something's on TV and it's never shown again? Just as well I'm not invited, I'm afraid of heights. I lied about being the outdoor type". Just tremendous. All told, the gig was a joyous affair full of lively ups and few downs - although it ended in farce with the band overrunning and the sound being cut which caused Dando to fly off the handle somewhat and launch a full bottle of wine onto the stage which promptly bounced straight into the front row. To his credit, he was quickly down into the throng to check for injuries and he left the stage to a standing ovation. Still ploughing his own furrow and doing his own thing, this very mercurial of songwriters is always worth watching - if only we could have a new album though, eh mate?

Later in February, Texan chooglemeisters White Denim strolled back to The Roundhouse for a quite extraordinary 30-song shimmy through their increasingly brilliant back catalogue. I saw the band at the same venue a few years ago and - along with a dreadfully muddy sound - they seemed a little over-awed by the experience. Not so now. Looking chilled and relaxed on stage and giving off the vibe that this is where they're supposed to be, lead vocalist/guitarist James Petralli and his cohorts dipped into every one of their seven albums - including the new 'Side Effects' opus - and put on a show of sparkling power and striking musicianship. Coming across like the greatest jam band in the world, the tunes were full of hip-shaking moves and head-rattling grooves.

With a set-list this long and strong there was no time for chat as the band thundered through the songs like The Grateful Dead on speed. Highlights were plentiful with the likes of It Might Get Dark, Had To Know, Drug and last year's magnificent Double Death all hitting the spot in a deliciously downhome and delightfully driving manner. Musically the band have never been better with Petralli's storming guitar work raising their game to a whole new level. Magnificently thrilling stuff. (Extra marks too for playing my favourite ever WD tune in the shape of the sublime A Place To Start.) 
There was just time for one more gig in February - and another jaunt to Camden - as the creaky old Dingwall's venue on the lock played host to one of the best new bands to come out of the tremendously exciting Australian psych-rock scene. Perth's Psychedelic Porn Crumpets - crazy name, crazy guys - have taken up the gauntlet thrown down by fellow countrymen Tame Impala and King Gizzard And The Lizard Wizard and veered off down into their own tie-dyed rabbit hole with their recent 'High Visceral' two-part album collection. A raucous,tumbling and careering bunch of tunes shot through with massive riffs and retina-sizzling choruses, the albums showcase the band's special style of acid-fried psych to quite wonderful effect. A four-piece bunch of hairies clad in bright colours and constantly smiling, the guys sound like they're having the time of their lives and once on stage, they prove it time and time again.

An absolutely barnstorming hour and a half of in your face rock music and burrow in your brain psych-frenzied crunchy tuneage that was one of the most purely enjoyable gigs I've been to in some time. Monster tunes like Cornflake, Dependant On Mary and the mighty Surf's Up should be sacred texts for any psych fans out there. Frontman Jack McEwan is the band's secret weapon - his melodic vocals selling the songs wonderfully whilst his virtuoso guitar work blends brilliantly with fellow axeman Luke Parish. Behind them, Danny Caddy and Luke Reynolds are a rhythm section from the gods - all thumping drums and fluid bass-lines. The gig was a hot, noisy and splendidly sweat-inducing affair and I had the real sense - as I peeled my t-shirt off when I got home - that this is just the start for them. Their new album is out soon and I implore you to get involved. They really are a very special combo - watch them fly.

Into March then with a nostalgia-tinged return to the live arena for late 90's post-Britpop balladeers Embrace. Hailing from Halifax and built around the McNamara brothers - vocalist Danny and lead guitarist Richard - Embrace were pegged, due to their sibling similarities, as the new Oasis when their first couple of EP's were released in 1997. There was always something a little more emotionally affecting about them though for me and when the band's debut album 'The Good Will Out' was released the following year, it was obvious to many - the record went straight to number one in the charts - that they were a more interesting proposition than most of the whey-faced, kagoule wearing northern lads that were being signed hand over fist by record labels eager to cash in on the Britpop shilling. The bolshie, let's have it style rockers were all present and correct of course but there were also gloriously uplifting string-laden piano ballads that plucked at the heart-strings and brought lumps to throats in a way that Oasis could only dream about. For whatever reason, that first flush of success never really held firm for Embrace and subsequent albums waxed and waned commercially whilst bands like Travis and Coldplay swooped in and took over the same demographic. The band - now a five piece consisting of the McNamara brothers, original members Mike Heaton on drums and bassist Steve Firth, as well as keyboardist Mickey Dale - have continued making music ever since with 2017's 'Love Is A Basic Need' being their most recent release. When it was announced late last year that they would be touring the UK to celebrate the 21st anniversary of that superb debut album by performing it in full, I was intrigued but not overly swayed. However, I gave the album a listen for the first time in years and remembered just why I loved it in the first place - so off I went. And I'm so glad I did. The Roundhouse was absolutely rammed - indeed, the whole tour has been a complete sell-out - and with a backdrop containing the group's name in giant lights, the lads strolled on to a rapturous reception that you could tell really affected them. It took a full 5 minutes before the band could launch into the album's first track - the still stirring All You Good Good People - and then that was it. I don't think I've ever attended a gig where every single line has been sung so loudly and so lovingly by pretty much every single soul in the room. I knew this album was popular and means a lot to people, but there were big, grizzled ugly lumps of manflesh in this room who were shedding fat, salty tears of joy throughout. Punch the air moments were plentiful with the likes of One Big Family, You've Got To Say Yes and the thumping rush of The Last Gas raising the roof but it was those goosebump-inducing softer moments that stood out with Retread, Fireworks and the utterly sublime That's All Changed Forever causing mass singalogs and hugs with strangers that will live long in my memory. Back in the day, Danny's less than stellar vocal ability was always the stick that was used to bash this band over the head, but (even though it always worked for me) 20 odd years at the coalface has improved his singing immensely and on the stunning Higher Sights for example - which caused a 50-something chap with a face like a stevedore next to me to weep uncontrollably - he hit the top notes with aplomb. The set ended, as we all knew it would, with the album's magnificent title track - complete with swelling strings, thunderous drums and a crescendo of  "na na na's" that shook the venue's very foundations. With the band themselves on superb form musically, and Danny constantly thanking the throng for sticking by the group through thick and thin over the years, this was obviously hugely important to the guys. Here's hoping the success of the tour - there's another couple of huge sold-out gigs to come at Alexandra Palace in December - will carry on into the next stage of their career. The good will out indeed...

    

I was back in Camden two weeks later at the dark and dingy delight that is Our Black Heart - the more discerning rock fan's bar of choice - for a cracking evening of doomy, bone-shaking psych-rock from Sweden's MaidaVale. Consisting of Matilda Roth on vocals, Sofia Strom on guitar, bassist Linn Johannesson and Johanna Hansson on drums, the band were formed in 2012 on the isle of Gotland just off the coast of Stockholm in the Baltic Sea. Leaning toward the hypnotic grooves of the 70's Krautrock scene and melding it with the crunchy riffs of Sabbath and the bluesy swagger of the late 60's psychedelic era, the band have released two albums with this year's 'Madness Is Too Pure' raising the bar and allowing them to finally come over to the UK for this debut London gig.

A pulverising hour or so of mind-melding sturm und drang, this remarkably accomplished quartet ebbed and flowed through a host of new tunes such as the coruscating Gold Mind and the brain-rattling Dark Clouds with a confidence and maturity which belies their short time together. Roth's vocal stylings are very much in the mould of early 70's howlers like the long lost Edna Bejarano from perennial pub-quiz question stalwarts The Rattles, or even a latter-day Bjork - if the Icelandic superstar had ever set up camp with Blue Cheer. The rhythm section keep things locked in throughout but it's Strom on guitar who is the real revelation tonight with gutar licks and solos that were good enough to peel your eyebrows off. Searing stuff from top to bottom.

And finally, for this glance back at the first few months of 2019's finest gigs, it was off to Shepherd's Bush and the creaky old Empire for the second year of the Love From Stourbridge travelling extravaganza. This time last year, I relived my raggle-taggled baggy-short sporting youth with a tremendously lively evening in the company of that quirky little hamlet's favourite sons Ned's Atomic Dustbin and The Wonderstuff. I posted a full and thorough review of said gig on this blog at the time - check out the archive for April 2018 - and a fine time was had by all. A slightly rejigged lineup for this year's jaunt around the UK - the tour also took in Sheffield, Manchester, Bristol, Birmingham and Glasgow - saw the full Wonderstuff show replaced by frontman Miles Hunt doing a short acoustic set to kick things off, and last year's half-time DJ Graeme Crabb from Pop Will Eat Itself hooking up with the current Poppies lineup for a storming blast through their seminal second album 'This Is The Day, This Is The Hour....This Is This!' Upon it's release in 1989, 'This Is.....' was like nothing else around at the time meshing together a whole host of influences like punk rock, hip-hop, rave culture and heavy metal - all overlayed with pop-culture samples and electronic flourishes that still stand the test of time today. Garnering three huge hit singles in Def.Con.One, Can U Dig It? and Wise Up Sucker! the album laid the ground work for the Poppies assault on the charts over the next few years. The classic lineup of Crabb, guitarist Richard March, drummer Fuzz Townsend and main vocalist Clint Mansell disbanded in the mid-90's with Mansell going on to become ridiculously successful in Hollywood with his Oscar-winning soundtrack work. Various different Poppies lineups - all helmed by Crabb - have been doing the rounds over the last few years but for this tour, both March and Townsend are back in the fold.

After Hunt's joyous little acoustic set - which covered all the Wonderstuff peaks - Crabb and the PWEI crew bound on to the stage and pretty much blow the roof off. As was the same here in 2018, 40-something maladies like aching backs and dodgy knees are forgotten about as mosh pits are attempted and tibia threatening pogoing is the order of the day. The singles raise the biggest cheers, but album tracks such as Sixteen Different Flavours Of Hell, Inject Me and the mighty Wake Up...Time To Die are just as much of a head rush as they were back in the day. Fabulously exciting. 
Just like last year, Ned's Atomic Dustbin close the show and - just like last year - as there's no new music to promote or no album anniversary to celebrate, singer Jon Penney and the gang carry on doing what they've been doing for the past few years and roll out the classics one after another. I've always maintained that, just like fellow Black Country boys The Wonderstuff, the Ned's are one of the UK's finest 'single release' bands. Their albums - with the honourable exception of the classic 'God Fodder' - have been up and down but the hits have always been top-notch and seeing the band power through all the classics live only reiterates that theory for me. With the rest of the band - Rat on guitar, the double bass playing whammy of Matt and Alex and Dan Dan The Drumming Man - thundering away behind him, Penney (and his idiosyncratic dancing style) has an absolute ball bounding around through absolute blinders like Until You Find Out, Not Sleeping Around, Cut Up, Stuck and the frankly bloody brilliant frenzy of Throwing Things. To then finish the set with a quintet of tunes as strong as the big hit Happy, Grey Cell Green, Intact, the adrenaline-inducing Kill Your Television and quite glorious Selfish just reminds me yet again of how full of vim and songwriting chops the Ned's were during that odd little period for UK indie music in the early 90's. On the evidence of the last two year's worth of Stourbridge musical nostalgia, I'll be well up for a third round of grebo-tastic goodness.