work times three

10-25 Sep. This year’s London African Music Festival plays host to some of the awe-inspiring sounds, infectious rhythms, and unique instruments to have emerged from the continent. Musicians from 23 countries, including renowned acts such as francophone rap artist MC SOLAAR (Southbank Centre,10 Sep), and twelve-piece jazz-funk band Odemba OK Jazz All Stars (The Albany Theatre, 17 Sep) will play in venues across the city. Larger than ever before, the festival is all set to be a vibrant and diverse taste of the thrilling African music scene.

www.joyfulnoise.co.uk
02073289613

Southbank Centre,
Belvedere Road,
SE1
0844875 0073
southbankcentre.co.uk
Tube: Waterloo
Map: C6

The Albany Theatre,
Douglas Way,
Depford,
SE8
020 8692 4446.
thealbany.org.uk
Train: Depford Rail.
Off map.

London Planner

Until 25th September, the 8th London African Music Festival is spread across a larger selection of venues than ever before, and with high-profile acts such as MC SOLAAR performing at the Southbank Centre (10 Sep), it is all set to be a barnstorming event. Joining the Francophone rapper for the festival will be beganna virtuoso Alemu Aga (11 Sep, Southbank Centre), Grammy nominated Cuban jazz pianist Omar Sosa (23 Sep, Jazz Cafe), and Naija Groove (25 Sep, Stratford Circus), which brings together the unique stylings of singers Juwon Ogungbe, Dele Sosimi and Funmi Olawumi, the 10-piece Naija Rhythm Orchestra and a host of collaborators.

Hi-Tari Pop-Tari

(Photos: D. Armstrong)

One of the treasures of making music is that you don’t necessarily need to know what you’re doing to accomplish something of tremendous power. Some of its current overachievers – the crash scene tape music of Micachu or Lucky Dragons- are slaves to complexity of their recording devices and, resultantly, create rough-around-the-edges pop like no band before them. Tune-Yards, appellation of New England based wunderkind Merrill Garbus, is an awe-inspiring offspring of this: in journeying to simpler times, she creates a beautiful, if tricky, Delta Blues-pop, submerged beneath layers of dust and charm and coloured with tragic, mystical storytelling.

What Monday night’s performance at Cargo proved was that you don’t need to know how to plug a computer in to make the most of your talents. ‘Does anyone have any scotch tape?’ Garbus exclaimed mid-set, realising her sorry looking loop machine had finally thrown in the towel and was in need of repairs. To the astonishment of a palpitating young crowd, though, she managed to re-immerse herself, quite carelessly, into a sun-kissed version of Fiya; one of the big-hitters of last year’s Bird-Brains LP.

Fans - and there sure are plenty of those – were treated to a panoramic selection of key tracks, spanning Garbus’ Bird-Droppings ep with the moody, throbbing Real Live Flesh through to new, typically ancient soundings songs such as Powa and You, Yes You. Accompanied by the playfully economic bass string flirtations of Nate Brenner (who has groundings as a jazz musician in the proficient Oakland based jam band Beep!), it became both instantly and joyfully clear that Garbus is musician of tremendous natural capability.

In surrounding herself with beat-nick high hats, battered analogue gadgets and mic’d up wood-planks, Garbus becomes her own, fully functional live band onstage. Off-kilter rhythmic arrangements and a wailing, Afro-American blues voice became the key themes of the night, and the three hundred strong audience’s reaction was more than just electric; fro-ing in sweaty tidal surges by the midway, and screaming along to the choral mantras of Sunlight by the triumphant close.

Kill The Road

(For Nothing Bad Magazine)

London’s Sunderbans don’t really write tunes you hear nowadays. No lazy, box-ticking sub-par categorization will be applied here, they deserve better. The trio’s nuanced, realized sound is both stark and mature. Some may point tentatively towards the rhythmic, paranoid minimalism of Krautrock or the sand sprayed, fettered fuzz-box muscle of Kyuss, though willing listeners will recognise that it lays somewhere in between the two; in a beautiful, subtly abstract half-light.

After forming a collective under various monikers and artistic collaborations in deepest Sheffield, the band were drawn to the bright lights and darkened streets of Dalston to set up shop as Sunderbans, a name based on an existent ‘tidal halophytic mangrove’ in Bali…apparently. ‘We practice in a cellar hidden beneath a snooker club’ explains bassist Chris Hutchinson. ‘It feels like our second home…Our flat also doubles as a practice room and creative space. You will often find us recording vocals in the bathroom. Or writing or recording new songs in each others bedrooms.’

Having played with the likes of Swedish demigods Bob Hund, they managed to secure a deal with reputable underdogs Young and Lost, and found themselves working with Henrik Orrling of The Envelopes fame on the recording of their debut single We Only Can Because We Care: ‘We all fell deeply in love with Henrik. He opened our eyes to the beauty and importance of every detail. His guidance and energy gave us so much confidence and self belief.’

Devil-in-the-details workmanship and barebones lyrical conceit certainly paint a fair picture, but a musical upbringing is always a becoming start for talent so fresh off the drawing board: ‘Our primary school was kind of strange as it had a Spanish guitar Orchestra which was used to accompany the hymns in assembly. One brilliant teacher had an amazing enthusiasm for the instrument and she showed us all how to play it.’ Maurice Day, singer, guitarist and chief gunslinger is less enthusiastic about his formative days: ‘My Dad comes from a musically repressed family - where talent was undercut by self-deprecation’ he proclaims, ‘though Jack Day, my brother, is a folk singer who was pretty much the main musical influence for me growing up, and still is.’

Their single Road Kill is available as a free download on Young and Lost’s site, so switch on your lobes, find the thumb drum in your ear brain and whig out…Navada style.

Viva Divas

(This was weird because I don't actually like Vivian Girls' music at all. It was more of an experiment to see whether I could write objectively about a performance regardless of my issues with the subject's output. Anyway this was for The Stool Pigeon, which comes out some time next week. Photos by Owen Richards, who is good.)

In deepest Dalston there are many half-houses, decrepit dorms and graveolent garage abysses that stand in for sweaty noise venues, but the Trinity Music Hall - a community centre-come-pensioners’ keep fit space – must be amongst the least befitting. After manhandling my way through the prayer labyrinth like entrance, I expected to open the door to a room divided by gender and full of pre-pubescent shoe-gazers. Somehow the bric-a-brac aesthetic fit perfectly with the musical themes of the night, though.

London’s Male Bonding offer a spikey, rustic take on the retro American sound a la Rites of Spring, but it was, intentionally or not, completely drowned in reverb on the night. The hall didn’t do them any favours either in helping to dissipate what are very straightforward melodies - shattering their focus, spitting them up and hurling them down Kingsland Road in a maelstrom of bullish disarray and undulating discordance.

When the Vivian Girls came on my ears were pulsing claret and shins caved in by 12 year old moshers three sheets to the wind on SmartPrice Tennants. Happy days…Shit. Fortunately the Vivs were in grave-robbingly good spirit, and sounded like a suitably dressed down, fuzzed up version of The Applicators. ‘The End’ was a wall of melodic, cinematic canvas messing fun, sped up and spewed out with punky Riot Grrl piss take panache.


The highlight came midway in when the lasses convened for a hymnal, a’cappella take on The Chantels’ He’s Gone. For all the layers of reverb and surf –drone, the cover proved just how melodically aware - and tight - the band actually are. Not afraid to strip things down, the barbershop triplet had the crowd stomping to the awkward signature in unison…clapping is just so Cliff Richard’s impromptu ‘Devil Woman’ slaying at Wimbledon ’96…

Though visible cracks manifested in drummer Ali Koehler telling the crowd to ‘cool it’ just half a dozen songs in – two critically acclaimed albums in two years and a whirlwind tour of Asia, Europe and North America, anyone? – the troupe seem incredibly humbled by all the attention, and their smiles seemed genuine rather than painted.

By the time Tell The World, their strongest single, raised its gargantuan head, zealous followers had convulsed into a squirming mass of sweat and mud as lead gunslinger Cassie Ramone continued to melt captivatingly into her mic. How they can churn out such immersive depictions of lovelorn fuzz anthems night after night is anyone’s guess really, but it’s certainly a pleasure to see a band fulfilling their potential on such a prolific scale.

Vertical Offshoot

(For The Stool Pigeon and SHOOK Magazine)

Mount Kimbie write mid-tempo glacial ravescapes, doused in sea spray and cast against housey, pitchshifted vocals. Sounds familiar? Think again. Burial’s mist drenched 2-step set the scene for an army of citers, but the London duo’s tonic of melodic minimalism, subtle release and post-rock tonality has smudged the canvas. Their two eps Maybes and Sketch on Glass traversed the edges of drone and dubstep without indulging either. The resulting tension is exactly what makes the music both difficult and instantly transcendent.

Their breakout song, Maybes, is something of a phenomenon. Sonic tonne-chunk ice caps break off, giving way to a steaming dancefloor of spectres and half-light. Since Mary Anne Hobbs dropped it on her Experimental show late last year, an unmodest number of audiophiles - Ramadanman, Untold, and Scuba to name a few - have dashed their sets with the skewered sounds. In an exclusive interview we caught up with Dom Maker and Kai Campos, the brains behind the noise, to discuss the year ahead…


Me: Your music is depthy, with subtle allusions to various alternative sounds. How did you come to striking a balance between your influences?

Kai: On one hand, I don't attempt to strike a balance between anything, things permeate from your subconscious that you would never have thought would influence you. I think the only thing I could say is that there's a need for me (at the moment) to continue writing this with a strong basis in pop music.

Dom: This is definitely an area that we have never really thought about. I think that when I produce anything, that isn't deleted with haste, the last thing I want on my mind are the sounds that I have heard before. I'm a very impressionable person and thus if I hear hip hop, I make hip hop, if I hear techno I make techno. It’s very frustrating, but occasionally I catch my musical memory off guard and something that I suppose most closely resembles the fusion of 'various alternative sounds' appears on the screen.

Me: Yours it seems is one of the success stories of Radio 1’s Experimental show and homage to the exposure fledging artists can enjoy in the New Media age. How rapid was the response to the track?

Dom: Well, to be honest, the only reason Mount Kimbie was being played on the BBC at that 'Maybes' time was Rob Booth, who runs Electronic Explorations (a SICK podcast). He sent some tracks to Mary Anne and then we found ourselves doing a mix for her show. We had a 'gathering' of close friends to listen to it going on air, kicking off at around 7pm, foolishly forgetting she comes on at around 2am, by the time it was played most of us were absolutely battered, but we were really blown away by the whole thing. Having songs played on the radio is great.


Me: What’s the plan for the New Year? Can listeners look forward to a long player?

Dom: Our plan for the New Year is mainly to go to as many countries, towns and cities in Europe and the UK and play live. We have worked ridiculously hard on the new live set and really want to play it everywhere. There are some big nights lined up for the beginning of this year and we are thinking about going further afield by the summer. Listeners can look forward to an LP. We are writing it at the moment in fact.


Me: What was the vibe like at Impakt (an audio visual festival) in the Netherlands? Did the artistic accompaniments compliment or complicate the sound?

Kai: Impakt was cool, although on our particular night there wasn't much of a visual aspect (that I noticed). We had some serious technicals that night. Two of the most stressful hours of our lives came before that gig and we were still fixing stuff when a curtain got pull back and we had to play. To be honest I didn't take that much in. After we played a slightly strained and anxious 40 minutes, The Bug and Flowdan came on and just killed it. My favourite set of 2009 by a fair distance (The Bug's, not ours!).

Me: How about playing in the St Jakobskirken Church in Oslo?

Dom: The vibe was really refreshing. I definitely found that Scandinavians are better than the British at A. Dancing and B. Having a good time. The whole attitude towards live music is different. When we were playing people were going "sshhhhh!" if anyone spoke. The fact that the gig was held in a beautiful church, which was filled with smoke, dim gold lighting and drone music between acts, was just incredible. In terms of the people we’ve played with, the vast contrast in style, genre and presentation was refreshing and interesting. It was amazing to go to a night and not hear familiar sounds to be honest.

Me: Do you think you’re going to start branching out on the instrumentation you use in live settings? Fennesz uses his guitar to create ambient tones similar to yours, for example?

Kai: Well we always have used live instrumentation in our live set, there’s a bit more guitar now but not in a Fennesz way, closer to a shit Ramones covers band.

Dom: In our new live set, we've stayed true to the 'very much live, no bullshit' elements of the set we used to do with James Blake, but we are using a different set-up entirely. We use guitars, a snare drum, a ride cymbal and some pieces of hardware, even our own voices, croaky and tuneless as they may be. We want to use a full drum kit but that’s serious hassle. I think the way we have worked this time feels like the right way to go. Firstly, we both love actually playing live. DJing is cool but it just doesn’t compare, for me anyway. Secondly, I do feel to some extent that the music we make requires to be played 'live', just to get across the feeling of each track properly. When I'm listening to certain sections of our new and old material, I always think 'I want to hit a snare drum repeatedly, as much as possible. Thankfully, that dream will now be realised!

FLEX YOUR HEAD

(I covered the Warp20 night for Esquire this month. Also, this version will appear in the February edition of Artrocker Magazine. Thanks to Darran Armstrong for the pictures, you are very good at what you do.)

London’s Warp20 event – an evening, night and morning celebrating twenty years of one of the world’s most revered independent labels - was an amorphous, audio-induced blur of scene clashes, sonic bombast, bad weather and general misrule.

Revellers, fledgling musicians, tech-nodes, pilgrims, collectors, celebrities and journalists pulsed towards The Coronet in Elephant and Castle; an area that has rather unexpectedly become something of a convergence point for the surrounding arts community. The venue, however, was certainly starting to show its age. Standing under stray drips of rain from its fettered ceiling was perhaps not an ideal setting for music of such unabashed perspicacity.

Tangents aside, the night was a musical monument: A befitting end to a decade of immense technological progression in sound art and expansive compositional boundaries. The event offered outsiders a peep hole into the directional variety on offer on the label, but also its enduring ability to unveil artists that seem to act as demagogues of alternative music; the few that forge new creative avenues out of the possibilities that befall them.

Broadcast’s set was moody and otherworldly: Trish Keegan’s throbbing vocal androgyny was cast against cascading psych-art imagery and James Cargill’s instrument-hopping jubilance. Songs from 2005’s Tender Bones were re-imagined as bludgeoning dronescapes, as if every song was a powerful, if very slight, movement in a larger construction altogether.

Battles’ perfectly polished performance offered a timely contrast to the gain-drenched drama. The as-promised new songs were delivered with bombastic geniality, ripe with fresh ideas, textural ambition, tropical melodies and typically wonky rhythm arrangements. 2007’s biggest alt-banger Atlas saw the crowd toing and froing in mass tidal surges, charged with an untenable enthusiasm a song with such bare-bones originality commands.


Upstairs in the west wing, Nightmares on Wax’s George Evelyn shook a darkened dancefloor of rain-drenched party people, converting the booty shakers to his sinister, twisted beats and down tempo acid house in convincing style. The real party, however, was only just afoot.

Flying Lotus’ set was a realised marriage of laptop camaraderie and devil-in-the-details improvised bravura, and as prophetically earth-shattering as you would expect from the omnipotent cut chemist. But it was the moment when a blast of dry ice encircled the silhouetted, crazed figure as he dashed out a frenzied version of Ikonika’s Please that you knew the night had reached its nexus, its defining moment.


Steve ‘Kode9’ Goodman was seen excitedly tip-toeing his way through piles of comatose obsessives, stapled to the d-floor like harebrained apparitions desperately picking their way through Plaid’s gem-encrusted setlist. Never have I left a venue feeling quite so terrorized both visually and aurally and yet wanting, needing more.

To say the night felt elemental in evaluating an era of deep cultural and artistic convergence would be stating the obvious: The Warp back-catalogue stands as a document of this innate parity. As the damaged clubbers stumbled back into the winter reality of South London deep into Sunday morning, the rain borrowed a fresh sense of clarity and retrospection into their furrowed brows. As a comprehensive exhibition of uncontrived talent and dedicated innovation, Warp20 was an effectual reminder of some of the true musical movers and shakers of the decade.