Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Live

Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Shepherd's Bush Empire
Sunday April 26th

Yeah Yeah Yeahs have gone all electro? What happened to the filthy riffs and filthier vocals? Worry not, enthusiasts of Karen O's provocative gasps and Nick Zinner's distinctive solos – they're all present and correct.

Zinner doesn't even put his guitar down – an additional tour band member takes synths duties. But it isn't simply business as usual for the New York three-piece, everything is up a notch. They open with two tracks from new album It's Blitz, a tingling intro from Karen O setting up the fireworks of Runaway and Dull Life shooting off at frenetic pace.

Gold Lion's thundering opening moves the crowd, already boisterous, to rampant, before Honeybear gives the vocalist the chance to show off a sneaky shuffle as she begins to stride around the stage with the jubilant abandon of a woman clearly in her element.

Then, finally, debut album Fever To Tell gets an airing, with the set highlight Black Tongue. It's lost none of its potency, the thrilling confrontation of "boy you're just a stupid bitch and girl you're just a no good dick" ringing through the crashing, shrieking sound the band generate.

Karen O changes her outfit more times than many singers do their position on stage, adding a black leather jacket emblazoned with her initials for the fizzing intro of Zero. The single gets the frantic reaction it screams for, zipping lights and minor explosions watched over by a giant inflatable eye hanging above Brian Chase's rapidly-beaten drumset.

This is spun into a moon to mark the darkening of the mood as Cheated Hearts' more meaningful refrain heralds a lull in pace that features the pedestrian Skeletons and the emotional Maps. These lack the pizzazz of other material, but add a tension-filled grandeur to the set, stopping it collapsing into its own chaos.

The encore sees this off with giddy simplicity, Y Control spinning into view. Zinner is unable to stay facing in one direction as his instrument chugs out each monumental, purging blast, twisting to intricate angles as Chase's drums maintain a heady rhythm to complement Karen O's slippery delivery.After the pleasant surprise of Poor Song, which isn't at all as its title suggests, it is left to the raw, breathless Date With The Night to tell its tale of sex and nothing, ear-splittingly loud and still tight despite its recklessness.

As their albums get consecutively more accessible, Yeah Yeah Yeahs live show is becoming increasingly accomplished, but still maintains the persuasive, formidable electricity of their burgeoning years. What a release, what a relief.

The Camden Crawl – Review

The Camden Crawl – Review

Another year, another horde of overdressed, overwhelming devotees descends upon the streets of Camden. Even the sun has turned up, which helps make the expected crawl seem more like a stroll, the food seem that much more edible and the music that much better.

Friday night is a race from the reality of employment to the far more palatable prospect of a naked man walking across the roundabout opposite the Hawley Arms. Ah, it’s festival time again. A clever little queuing system means that people have a fair old chance of gaining entry to the Roundhouse to see The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, so that’s where we plod.

Onstage beforehand, The Virgins are an instant coffee support band – they fill a hole but don’t quite sate. Sporting a bow tie, a leather jacket and a bare chest, Donald Cumming does not have a good look for a frontman, or any kind of man, but it fits with their jaunty, unapologetic indie.Karen O and co are a different proposition – the singer dazzles in a sizzlingly silly outfit, delivering shrieking excitement early on with Gold Lion, while oldie Art Star pleases the purists with Nick Zinner effortlessly artful on guitar. It’s a bit early for the lighters aloft moment on Maps, but Zero and Date With The Night provide a shuddering finale as the festival gets an almighty kick-start.

Wandering along the high street as a band busks on the road feels fittingly festive, while chancing upon Madness playing a triumphant set aboard an open-top bus keeps things suitably surreal. It Must Be Love is sung by elated fans and perturbed passers-by alike as Suggs oversees the mayhem.

It is more subdued in Electric Ballroom - well everything seems more subdued after seeing Our House turn Camden Market into a strange and joyful street party. Nevertheless, The Big Pink fill the venue with their gloomy yet dancey sound, the highlight a brooding rendition of Velvet.Wire then arrive to recapture past glories – they inspire some outrageously jubilant dancing, but don’t quite connect, so it’s off to see some Queens of Noize-curated noise at The Black Cap after a detour to a too-packed Jazz Café. Drums of Death are theatrical and engaging, but it’s time to head down the Northern Line and prepare for tomorrow.

Watching the crowd move from wide-eyed anticipation to bleary-eyed satisfaction and back again within the space of a day is always part of the attraction at city festivals – the aid of an actual bed means those who overindulged on Friday are back fresh-faced on Saturday.

There is a whole host of musical treats to keep them entertained, as well as more obscure delights such as queuing next to the trampy-looking guy from Soccer AM. In the Hawley Arms, an unannounced set featuring The La’s legend Lee Mavers draws a crowd, while Kasabian turn up inside a tiny bus to strum an acoustic number. The atmosphere is bustling and just the right side of lairy as the high street becomes more of a throng than a thoroughfare.The Maccabees are the early evening destination – well, after Little Boots delivers an unmentionably uneventful set – and the five-piece don’t disappoint. Love You Better divides opinion, but the darling nostalgia of Lego, charmingly dedicated to an over-zealous gig-goer, is electrifying, as singer Orlando’s quaint understatement melds engagingly with guitarist Felix’s enthusiasm. Tissue Shoulders is a highlight and new tracks such as Kiss and Resolve and opener No Kind Words mix romanticism and driven intensity.

With secret gigs popping up as regularly as amusing celebrity-spots (Kate Nash and The Cribs’ Ryan Jarman canoodling outside the toilets, somebody phone the tabloids) it’s frantic as the light fades and decisions are deliberated over where to wander. Other than a few expectedly busy venues, the notorious Camden queue doesn’t materialise and it isn’t too difficult to gain entry anywhere, so The Joy Formidable’s capable but uninspired set is taken in at Electric Ballroom.Some people may not have slept for 48 hours, but The Fall’s archduke of curmudgeonly longevity Mark E Smith looks a whole lot worse than anybody else does. Still, a smiling Smith would not look right and he is suitably decrepit with a support belt around his gut while the fanboys and politely morbidly interested mingle below. Nevertheless, the current line-up sounds superb, ferociously loud and unabashed.

The vocals are often obscured but a dark energy keeps the likes of Cowboy George and The Latch Key Kid fresh and alive, which is a valid description of the festival, new music colliding with established names but all digging into Camden Crawl’s philosophy of new ideas and old-fashioned fun. It has enough one-offs to not feel formulated and a passable level of organisation. Before the festival season gets into full-swing, this is a loud, messy, sunny way to ease into it all.

Bob Dylan - Live

Bob Dylan
O2 Arena

"The writings on the wall, come read it, come see what it say," Dylan hisses on Thunder On The Mountain. Everybody here already has their opinion on his modern day incarnation, but is still eager to see it confirmed in the flesh, as well as catch a classic or ten in the process.

Trekking to the soulless vacuum of the O2 Arena is far from ideal, plus Dylan in 2009 is not the performer of the past – performer is the wrong word as there is no sense of a show being put on for the audience, it is more observation of an artist at work.

The differences are not subtle: he does not play guitar, talk to the audience or bow to such conventions as playing his songs as they were recorded. Yet it is still thoroughly enthralling, from the rattling, groovy din of Maggie's Farm to the gliding flow of When The Deal Goes Down.

He spans the length of his illustrious career, choosing choice cuts throughout to appease connoisseurs of all eras. Some of his reinventions are roaring successes – The Times They Are A-Changin' is reinvigorated with new passion and vitality. Others, like closer Blowin' In The Wind, sound tired despite their reworking.

Nevertheless, the playing is consistently gripping, mysterious rhythms being conjured from the accomplished players backing Bob's own nifty keyboard work, building from settled structures devised by Dylan and revised in a flash on riveting moments like Po' Boy and Things Have Changed.It is the showstoppers that lift the often confused, always curious crowd from eagerness to elation. Highway 61 Revisited is re-imagined with added bite and zest, Bob's band cutting loose as his voice curls around its timeless tale.

All Along The Watchtower is a booming encore opener, with harmonica playing from Dylan adding a dimension. Beforehand, Like A Rolling Stone lends momentous presence, delivered with shivering, understated power.

His much-debated voice revels in the newer numbers such as Workingman' Blues, its familiarity here contrasting with the sideways glances The Lonesome Ballad of Hattie Carroll provokes and generally sounding clear and endearing enough.

As he thanks his audience as "friends" and finally introduces his slick group, a willingness to interact with the vast audience throughout is longed for. But it wouldn't be Dylan if he didn't annoy, confuse and inflame as much as he thrills, shocks and comforts.

The Never Ending Tour will continue to far off lands, with subtle alterations distinguishing shows from others. Regardless, the audiences will gaze on with adoration and infuriation, Dylan satisfying his own urge to play as much as his fans' desire to watch. People would pack out venues for a glimpse of their hero even if he wasn't any good any more; thankfully, it just so happens that he is.