Free as a bird now
Apr. 16th, 2006 08:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ventaSome time ago, I perused the BBC's recommendations for 2006's music and decided to nail my colours to the Guillemots' mast. Despite having heard very little else by them, I observed they were playing at the Zodiac and thought I'd better trot along.
The first support act was Jonny Race, whom I completely missed on account of having my snout stuck firmly into a curry several doors up the road at the Aziz. Which, incidentally, confirmed my belief that the Aziz does good food but has utterly shite service. It takes a special kind of genius to provide a restaurant with overly attentive service which never actually gets anything done.
The second support act was the properly bonkers Misty's Big Adventure. I first saw them about 18 months ago, in The Cellar, and was deeply bewildered to find there was about a million of them, all playing assorted instruments. And a dancer, who apparently goes by the name of Erotic Volvo, who wears a costume consisting mostly of stuffed gloves.
Last week they seemed to have calmed down to become an octet (including the dancer), still playing a remarkably varied program of brassy, ska-y, folky, upbeat, oh, I dunno, shove some more adjectives in, impressively deranged songs. Without their brass section (sax and trumpet) I suspect they'd just be another quirky (or maybe even "wacky", perish the thought) live act. As it is, they manage an unusually large, rich sound to back up the deeply odd lyrics. Despite the audio mayhem racketing round the stage, there are solid tunes, competent instrumentalism, and (I suspect) quite a lot of careful rehersal. Their unlikely frontman, Grandmaster Gareth, not only has a good voice but has an unexpected appeal (for someone who initially appears to have as much charisma as a brick).
I declined to buy one of their CDs, on the grounds that they couldn't possibly be as good recorded as they are live. A quick listen through some mp3 clips on their webpage (cute design, a bit too much flash) suggests that this is pretty much the case. They seem to be a natural-born support act, so if you ever notice them on the bill of gig you're going to, make sure you get there in time.
I was sorely tempted by the £5 Misty's Big Adventure finger puppets - up there as a runner for best gig merchandise ever. Not quite as incongruous as a Buzzcocks mug, and not quite as unexpected as a Bloc Party belt, but definitely in the quality odd mechandise category.
Having heard very little of the Guillemots, I wasn't entirely sure how many of them there were. I was, however, quite surprised when a single bloke ambled onstage, sat down at a bank of keyboards, and began singing. It was a rather slow, formless, wannabe-haunting sort of song and I was just wondering what I'd let myself in for when it ended and a tremendous crashing and yelling heralded another five people making their way through the crowd, tooting instruments and rattling bells.
Over the course of the evening they swung about between solo piano, a proper jazz-band sound, weird experimental noise, and an almost abstract Beta Band-like sound. The most obvious thing is that instead of a bass guitar they have a double bass, which contributed proper funky basslines to the proceedings. The guitarist seemed to specialise in making unguitar-like noises, and in bending himself into unlikely postures while playing.
I really can't think of how to describe the sound, simply because each song was so different to the previous one, and so unlike most other bands. There are mp3s to be had on the Guillemots' own page, but they're mostly quieter tracks that aren't so arresting - if you want to listen I'd recommend If The World Ends. Sea Out was a brilliant track live, but there's only a solo piano version on the website.
The only real disappointment came when, shortly before the last song, the preternaturally tall frontman introduced the rest of the band: the guitarist, the drummer, the bassplayer and himself. Subsequent research has suggested that the two other blokes on stage - playing sax and whatever that instrument that looks like a straight sax/brass clarinet is - were session musicians. However, to introduce the other people on stage and not even to mention them struck me and several of the other people near me as staggeringly rude. Particularly when the brass had been such a large part of the sound in many songs, without which the gig wouldn't have been half the experience it was. Having given the impression of being a nice bloke all evening, the frontman suddenly took a massive dive in my estimation, and I found myself liking the music a lot less as a result.
However, I'm sticking by my theory that they're the band to watch of the BBC's 2006 recommendations. I appreciate other people were rooting for Corinne Bailey Rae, but that whispy, lispy voice makes me want to prod her with a sharp stick.
The first support act was Jonny Race, whom I completely missed on account of having my snout stuck firmly into a curry several doors up the road at the Aziz. Which, incidentally, confirmed my belief that the Aziz does good food but has utterly shite service. It takes a special kind of genius to provide a restaurant with overly attentive service which never actually gets anything done.
The second support act was the properly bonkers Misty's Big Adventure. I first saw them about 18 months ago, in The Cellar, and was deeply bewildered to find there was about a million of them, all playing assorted instruments. And a dancer, who apparently goes by the name of Erotic Volvo, who wears a costume consisting mostly of stuffed gloves.
Last week they seemed to have calmed down to become an octet (including the dancer), still playing a remarkably varied program of brassy, ska-y, folky, upbeat, oh, I dunno, shove some more adjectives in, impressively deranged songs. Without their brass section (sax and trumpet) I suspect they'd just be another quirky (or maybe even "wacky", perish the thought) live act. As it is, they manage an unusually large, rich sound to back up the deeply odd lyrics. Despite the audio mayhem racketing round the stage, there are solid tunes, competent instrumentalism, and (I suspect) quite a lot of careful rehersal. Their unlikely frontman, Grandmaster Gareth, not only has a good voice but has an unexpected appeal (for someone who initially appears to have as much charisma as a brick).
I declined to buy one of their CDs, on the grounds that they couldn't possibly be as good recorded as they are live. A quick listen through some mp3 clips on their webpage (cute design, a bit too much flash) suggests that this is pretty much the case. They seem to be a natural-born support act, so if you ever notice them on the bill of gig you're going to, make sure you get there in time.
I was sorely tempted by the £5 Misty's Big Adventure finger puppets - up there as a runner for best gig merchandise ever. Not quite as incongruous as a Buzzcocks mug, and not quite as unexpected as a Bloc Party belt, but definitely in the quality odd mechandise category.
Having heard very little of the Guillemots, I wasn't entirely sure how many of them there were. I was, however, quite surprised when a single bloke ambled onstage, sat down at a bank of keyboards, and began singing. It was a rather slow, formless, wannabe-haunting sort of song and I was just wondering what I'd let myself in for when it ended and a tremendous crashing and yelling heralded another five people making their way through the crowd, tooting instruments and rattling bells.
Over the course of the evening they swung about between solo piano, a proper jazz-band sound, weird experimental noise, and an almost abstract Beta Band-like sound. The most obvious thing is that instead of a bass guitar they have a double bass, which contributed proper funky basslines to the proceedings. The guitarist seemed to specialise in making unguitar-like noises, and in bending himself into unlikely postures while playing.
I really can't think of how to describe the sound, simply because each song was so different to the previous one, and so unlike most other bands. There are mp3s to be had on the Guillemots' own page, but they're mostly quieter tracks that aren't so arresting - if you want to listen I'd recommend If The World Ends. Sea Out was a brilliant track live, but there's only a solo piano version on the website.
The only real disappointment came when, shortly before the last song, the preternaturally tall frontman introduced the rest of the band: the guitarist, the drummer, the bassplayer and himself. Subsequent research has suggested that the two other blokes on stage - playing sax and whatever that instrument that looks like a straight sax/brass clarinet is - were session musicians. However, to introduce the other people on stage and not even to mention them struck me and several of the other people near me as staggeringly rude. Particularly when the brass had been such a large part of the sound in many songs, without which the gig wouldn't have been half the experience it was. Having given the impression of being a nice bloke all evening, the frontman suddenly took a massive dive in my estimation, and I found myself liking the music a lot less as a result.
However, I'm sticking by my theory that they're the band to watch of the BBC's 2006 recommendations. I appreciate other people were rooting for Corinne Bailey Rae, but that whispy, lispy voice makes me want to prod her with a sharp stick.
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no subject
Date: 2006-04-16 07:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-16 11:03 pm (UTC)Today I met a contrabass recorder. It was large, boxy, and looked vaguely as if it might have been made from an Ikea flatpack.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-17 06:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-16 11:24 pm (UTC)