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ventaHmm. I wrote this a few days ago, but it seems I didn't post it.
The Kilburn Luminaire is a new venue (I think it's been there about a year), and I'd not been inside before. It's actually rather nice - still looks clean and tidy, and has a carpet which doesn't stick to your feet - although it's a rather strange shape. Pintwatch was unimpressed by the lack of bitter, mind.
After pigging out on GBK's utterly fantastic burgers, we wandered down to the Luminaire in time to arrive and get drinks in comfort before Jeffrey Lewis took to the stage. His band at present seems to be his brother Jack on bass, and a drummer who is, of course, called Dave. They were further augmented by Grandmaster Gareth from Misty's Big Adventure on theremin and two people of uncertain antecedents playing melodica and (er... I think) saxophone.
I've been a big fan of Jeff Lewis since I first heard his songs a few years ago. Long, rambling, vague, storytelling songs which don't quite fit the tune (unless you put emphasis on all the wrong syllables). Unfortunately, in recent years he's been heading more in the direction of loud, noisy surf-punk which, frankly, he's just not as good at. It's more "normal" sounding, but it's also very average. Any band down your local pub could do the same.
Fortunately, the set was still interspersed with some old-style stuff - indeed, he opened with a completely unaccompanied tale written in strict iambs (occasionally requiring a shoehorn), set to a repetative four-note tune which held the entire room spellbound.
It was interesting to note that a lot of people didn't seem that familiar with the songs - I wonder whether they'd heard only bits, or been dragged along by friends, or just come on spec. Listening to the utterly wonderful Don't Be Upset among a group of people who clearly didn't know what punchline was coming made me realise again that it is actually very funny, and I found myself laughing along with them.
I do occasionally wonder, though, what people like the bar staff think. Here's a guy who (let's face it) can't sing well, and has a very low-key stage presence, rambling his way through a set. Then suddenly he whips out a large sketch book, and announces that he's going to deliver Part III of the Complete History of Communism: Russia. Which he does. The book is filled with large, hand-drawn colour illustrations which he flicks through, displaying to the audience, while reciting the off-beat prose poem which describes (more or less accurately) exactly what the title suggested.
We have a vague idea that we saw Part II at the Brixton Windmill 18 months ago, but aren't entirely sure. Jeff Lewis describes these sketch books as "low budget videos" - and later produces a second, which tells the story of a man who finds the severed hand of a mass-murdering monster while on the bus with some nuns.
Jeff Lewis is still good value for money, gig-wise, but I wish he'd revert to the style of his two earlier albums. City and Eastern Songs, the most recent, has some good stuff on it, but just isn't quite up to the standard.
The headliners - well, actually, I mean the band that was on second. One thing I've learned about small gigs is that the order of precedence is not so well defined, and that being on later doesn't actually mean you're bigger. In fact, in the tube-centric world of London being on too late can be a sign of abject mediocrity. Certainly the crowd thinned out noticeably after the Lewis brothers left the stage. Anyway, the second band, My Latest Novel, were a sort of low-rent, Scottish version of Arcade Fire. Only less psychotic. And without the accordion.[*]
Actually, the more I listened to them, the less convinced I was that they were much like Arcade Fire at all. They did do a nice line in violin parts, and had a similar, large-scale approach to songwriting. Bits of their set were really quite noticeable and interesting, others just washed past me.
Some stuff of there is streamable from their MySpace page. They're interesting enough to at least check out, but I'm not sure I'll be running out the door to see them again.
[*] This reminds me of the description of Finlay: Like the Pixies. But British. And shit.
I was unsure of that line's origins, but ChrisC tells me he thinks it appeared in the NME.
Thus far this year I have been to exactly three gigs. And, unless something pretty special comes along, the third one is going to be a hot contender for gig of the year.
The Violent Femmes are an American 3-piece who've been going for around 25 years. And all the reasons I raved about them last time I went to see them still apply.
Reading some trivia on the Violent Femmes webpage the other day, I learned that (apparently) they never have a set list. The bassist calls the songs as he feels like it, and the rest just follow along. I think there must be some warning, though, because they have extra instrumentalists who wander on and off stage as appropriate.
So, as well as having a guitarist/vocalist who plays the violin, and a bassist/vocalist who plays everything, they had (for example) a guy whom I initially mistook for a roadie who played bass, mandolin and gobiron. For all I know he maybe was a roadie as well. In addition to the full-time drummer, they also had a percussionist playing tom-tom style drums (I think, I couldn't see). These extras, roadies, session men (whoever the hell they are) get their solos too and the whole atmosphere either confirms the idea that here is a bunch of talented musicians winging it and improvising - or they've spent a long time rehearsing to give that effect.
Acoustic bass! Conch shell solos! T-Rex covers!
The Violent Femmes really are stunning on stage, and I was thoroughly disappointed when I realised we'd run up against the 11 o'clock curfew. However, t'Other Chris (taking up a ticket at short notice when its intended user was ill) came out with a nonplussed "er, not bad" as his reaction. And Jamie complained of the solos going on too long and generally being too wanky. So maybe it was just me.
The only downside was the Amazing Wooo-ing Bloke directly behind us. He shouted "Wooo!" A lot. Loudly. Also he sang, very loudly. And Wooooooooooo'd. I think he might have had an owl somewhere in his ancestry. I was happy to hear someone so enthusiastic - but really. Less Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooo-ing next time. Please.
Oh, actually the other only downside was the not being able to see. What was tom-tom guy actually playing ? Even lifted up, I could still only observe that he was doing something flappy with his arms that suggested tom-tommery. What is a musical spider ? How many people were there on stage anyway ? The Violent Femmes have too many tall fans, and the Empire needs a rake in its floor.
If anyone can tell me what the mysterious one-string instrument that the bassist was playing was, I'll be grateful.
As a further request, can anyone recommend (a) a decent pub and (b) a decent eatery in the vicinity of the Shepherds Bush Empire ?
Our standard meeting-up location is the fairly manky Wetherspoons. However, despite being fairly manky it's usually ridiculously crowded, thus suggesting that there may not be a nicer option nearby. There are a few adequate eateries (the Aussie pie shop, the Thai round the corner, the oriental buffet place opposite the Wetherspoons) but nothing so far has been particularly good.
My theory is that large venues scare away nice restaurants, and my evidence for this is the Empire and Brixton Academy. And you have to hunt quite hard to get a reasonable meal near the Carling Hammersmith Carling Carling Apollo, too.
The Kilburn Luminaire is a new venue (I think it's been there about a year), and I'd not been inside before. It's actually rather nice - still looks clean and tidy, and has a carpet which doesn't stick to your feet - although it's a rather strange shape. Pintwatch was unimpressed by the lack of bitter, mind.
After pigging out on GBK's utterly fantastic burgers, we wandered down to the Luminaire in time to arrive and get drinks in comfort before Jeffrey Lewis took to the stage. His band at present seems to be his brother Jack on bass, and a drummer who is, of course, called Dave. They were further augmented by Grandmaster Gareth from Misty's Big Adventure on theremin and two people of uncertain antecedents playing melodica and (er... I think) saxophone.
I've been a big fan of Jeff Lewis since I first heard his songs a few years ago. Long, rambling, vague, storytelling songs which don't quite fit the tune (unless you put emphasis on all the wrong syllables). Unfortunately, in recent years he's been heading more in the direction of loud, noisy surf-punk which, frankly, he's just not as good at. It's more "normal" sounding, but it's also very average. Any band down your local pub could do the same.
Fortunately, the set was still interspersed with some old-style stuff - indeed, he opened with a completely unaccompanied tale written in strict iambs (occasionally requiring a shoehorn), set to a repetative four-note tune which held the entire room spellbound.
It was interesting to note that a lot of people didn't seem that familiar with the songs - I wonder whether they'd heard only bits, or been dragged along by friends, or just come on spec. Listening to the utterly wonderful Don't Be Upset among a group of people who clearly didn't know what punchline was coming made me realise again that it is actually very funny, and I found myself laughing along with them.
I do occasionally wonder, though, what people like the bar staff think. Here's a guy who (let's face it) can't sing well, and has a very low-key stage presence, rambling his way through a set. Then suddenly he whips out a large sketch book, and announces that he's going to deliver Part III of the Complete History of Communism: Russia. Which he does. The book is filled with large, hand-drawn colour illustrations which he flicks through, displaying to the audience, while reciting the off-beat prose poem which describes (more or less accurately) exactly what the title suggested.
We have a vague idea that we saw Part II at the Brixton Windmill 18 months ago, but aren't entirely sure. Jeff Lewis describes these sketch books as "low budget videos" - and later produces a second, which tells the story of a man who finds the severed hand of a mass-murdering monster while on the bus with some nuns.
Jeff Lewis is still good value for money, gig-wise, but I wish he'd revert to the style of his two earlier albums. City and Eastern Songs, the most recent, has some good stuff on it, but just isn't quite up to the standard.
The headliners - well, actually, I mean the band that was on second. One thing I've learned about small gigs is that the order of precedence is not so well defined, and that being on later doesn't actually mean you're bigger. In fact, in the tube-centric world of London being on too late can be a sign of abject mediocrity. Certainly the crowd thinned out noticeably after the Lewis brothers left the stage. Anyway, the second band, My Latest Novel, were a sort of low-rent, Scottish version of Arcade Fire. Only less psychotic. And without the accordion.[*]
Actually, the more I listened to them, the less convinced I was that they were much like Arcade Fire at all. They did do a nice line in violin parts, and had a similar, large-scale approach to songwriting. Bits of their set were really quite noticeable and interesting, others just washed past me.
Some stuff of there is streamable from their MySpace page. They're interesting enough to at least check out, but I'm not sure I'll be running out the door to see them again.
[*] This reminds me of the description of Finlay: Like the Pixies. But British. And shit.
I was unsure of that line's origins, but ChrisC tells me he thinks it appeared in the NME.
Thus far this year I have been to exactly three gigs. And, unless something pretty special comes along, the third one is going to be a hot contender for gig of the year.
The Violent Femmes are an American 3-piece who've been going for around 25 years. And all the reasons I raved about them last time I went to see them still apply.
Reading some trivia on the Violent Femmes webpage the other day, I learned that (apparently) they never have a set list. The bassist calls the songs as he feels like it, and the rest just follow along. I think there must be some warning, though, because they have extra instrumentalists who wander on and off stage as appropriate.
So, as well as having a guitarist/vocalist who plays the violin, and a bassist/vocalist who plays everything, they had (for example) a guy whom I initially mistook for a roadie who played bass, mandolin and gobiron. For all I know he maybe was a roadie as well. In addition to the full-time drummer, they also had a percussionist playing tom-tom style drums (I think, I couldn't see). These extras, roadies, session men (whoever the hell they are) get their solos too and the whole atmosphere either confirms the idea that here is a bunch of talented musicians winging it and improvising - or they've spent a long time rehearsing to give that effect.
Acoustic bass! Conch shell solos! T-Rex covers!
The Violent Femmes really are stunning on stage, and I was thoroughly disappointed when I realised we'd run up against the 11 o'clock curfew. However, t'Other Chris (taking up a ticket at short notice when its intended user was ill) came out with a nonplussed "er, not bad" as his reaction. And Jamie complained of the solos going on too long and generally being too wanky. So maybe it was just me.
The only downside was the Amazing Wooo-ing Bloke directly behind us. He shouted "Wooo!" A lot. Loudly. Also he sang, very loudly. And Wooooooooooo'd. I think he might have had an owl somewhere in his ancestry. I was happy to hear someone so enthusiastic - but really. Less Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooo-ing next time. Please.
Oh, actually the other only downside was the not being able to see. What was tom-tom guy actually playing ? Even lifted up, I could still only observe that he was doing something flappy with his arms that suggested tom-tommery. What is a musical spider ? How many people were there on stage anyway ? The Violent Femmes have too many tall fans, and the Empire needs a rake in its floor.
If anyone can tell me what the mysterious one-string instrument that the bassist was playing was, I'll be grateful.
As a further request, can anyone recommend (a) a decent pub and (b) a decent eatery in the vicinity of the Shepherds Bush Empire ?
Our standard meeting-up location is the fairly manky Wetherspoons. However, despite being fairly manky it's usually ridiculously crowded, thus suggesting that there may not be a nicer option nearby. There are a few adequate eateries (the Aussie pie shop, the Thai round the corner, the oriental buffet place opposite the Wetherspoons) but nothing so far has been particularly good.
My theory is that large venues scare away nice restaurants, and my evidence for this is the Empire and Brixton Academy. And you have to hunt quite hard to get a reasonable meal near the Carling Hammersmith Carling Carling Apollo, too.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-03-02 06:37 pm (UTC)If you're looking for real ale, however, you may as well not bother.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-02 06:41 pm (UTC)NB if you head towards Brixton from the tube and go past it and on down that road you eventually (5 mins walk) hit a pub on the left which does Leffe and HoeGaarden and other nice beer, and seems rather nice. Called The Far Side.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-02 06:43 pm (UTC)Was that for Dance Motherfucker Dance? He played it during that when I saw them in Cambridge. He said something about it then, and I got the impression that it has a name, but I didn't catch what it was.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-02 07:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-02 10:08 pm (UTC)Amazed you've not discovered pub 'The Dove' near the Apollo..tis lovely and Nachos Watch rated highest. basically 'behind' hammersmith highstreet on the river side. HLM likes it better than the Red Lion, which is some recommendation.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-03 09:39 am (UTC)