Razorlight
Brighton Centre
Tuesday 31st October 2006
“It’s fucking Halloween!” proclaims Johnny Borrell to his rapturous audience. What he fails to notice is that the scariest thing about tonight is how much his band has changed.
With their new album riding high in the charts and single ‘America’ vying with Gnarls Barkley’s Crazy for the title of catchiest song of the year, Razorlight are on a roll. This is clear when drummer Andy signals all systems are go with an incendiary solo to kick-start In The Morning.
From this moment on, Johnny is the star; the paper-thin, paper-colour-clothed focal point of his very accomplished band. Launching into Golden Touch early on, the crowd is in his hands. There is a spectacular drive to the song that ensures resisting joining the mass sing-along sparked is an impossible task.
Old favourite VICE maintains similar urgency, thundering into its frenetic climax with a combination of charm and chaos. There is a youthful feel to these songs that radiates around the enormous Brighton Centre, pulsing through every strained note Johnny sings.
However, this appears to be the last stand for the exuberance of Razorlight’s early years. The seriousness of the band’s intentions is clear before they begin, with messages of worthy causes beaming out from giant screens either side of the stage.
The Live8 effect has drove deeper though, into the heart of Razorlight’s songs. There is a more precise crafting evident in Before I Fall To Pieces – more organised than anarchic, trying to appeal to all. Universal admiration is in their grasp and they intend to get it.
There is little to dislike about melodious numbers such as Kirby’s House, but there is little to love either. Although expertly performed and lapped up by an adoring audience, mid-set the band moves dangerously close to the middle of the road. By the time Los Angeles Waltz is given heartfelt delivery they are becoming - whisper it - rather dull.
However, Razorlight simply have too many great songs to ever be boring. Fall Fall Fall is an exhibition of Johnny’s passion and vocal ability, while Somewhere Else reverberates around the arena with the supreme power only career-defining songs can. In these moments Razorlight meet their aspirations, sounding both mature and exhilarating.
No longer loveable post-Libertines rogues, not yet the U2-esque stadium superstars they will probably become, Razorlight are in transition. Although a bumpy ride, it’s still thrilling watching the journey.
Greg Rose
Monday, 19 March 2007
Gig Review - Guillemots
Guillemots
Corn Exchange, Brighton
Sunday 29th October
There is a certain sensation swirling around this cavernous old venue that is hard to place. It may be the fact that half the audience are attempting to drink foul-tasting Black Star Ale, or perhaps pure Sunday night blues. But something isn’t quite right.
When the man with the best name in music – singer Fyfe Dangerfield – meanders onstage with his band, little is done to dispel this. Opening with the gentle sentiments of Little Bear, Fyfe’s voice generates such fragility it may break at any moment.
Before there is time for this though, it is the sound equipment that breaks. Fyfe appears distraught when learning his special red microphone is beyond repair. Nevertheless, he manfully fills the time with an individual take on death metal, armed with only his guitar and the ability to scream extremely badly.
This sets the tone for an evening of unexpected pleasures. Guillemots are a band whose very nature suggests a refusal to conform. While most bands are following a well-trodden path to mediocrity, Guillemots include a saxophonist, double-bassist, and at one stage a woman dressed as a wicked witch in their group.
Getting over the early mishaps, soon the crowd is well and truly gripped, thanks to an early airing of the luscious Made Up Love Song #43. The simplicity of lyrics proclaiming “the beauty of an empty Coke can” nestles snugly into the complexity of a plodding double-bass mixed with soaring synths.
This combination of styles is evident throughout, with the musicians as comfortable subtly providing support to Fyfe’s heartbreaking voice as they are producing electrifying samba rhythms. Annie, Let’s Not Wait and Trains From Brazil sound more suited to carnivals than the Corn Exchange, but it somehow fits.
On occasion, certain ideas don’t quite succeed, such as Fyfe’s attempts to jump from keyboard to guitar with increasing regularity, making both seem disjointed. Also, selecting three consecutive ballads mid-set leads to a momentary lull in the crowd. Nevertheless, it is easy to forgive a band trying to break the mould.
Sheer fun radiates from the stage; there are dancing penguins on the screen behind the band, while their devoted audience dances like penguins in front of them. The fittingly epic finale Sao Paolo typifies this, as 17 people fill the stage, using stepladders and dustbin lids as drums. The unexpected is accepted when watching Guillemots, with the only guarantee being a unique experience.
Greg Rose
Corn Exchange, Brighton
Sunday 29th October
There is a certain sensation swirling around this cavernous old venue that is hard to place. It may be the fact that half the audience are attempting to drink foul-tasting Black Star Ale, or perhaps pure Sunday night blues. But something isn’t quite right.
When the man with the best name in music – singer Fyfe Dangerfield – meanders onstage with his band, little is done to dispel this. Opening with the gentle sentiments of Little Bear, Fyfe’s voice generates such fragility it may break at any moment.
Before there is time for this though, it is the sound equipment that breaks. Fyfe appears distraught when learning his special red microphone is beyond repair. Nevertheless, he manfully fills the time with an individual take on death metal, armed with only his guitar and the ability to scream extremely badly.
This sets the tone for an evening of unexpected pleasures. Guillemots are a band whose very nature suggests a refusal to conform. While most bands are following a well-trodden path to mediocrity, Guillemots include a saxophonist, double-bassist, and at one stage a woman dressed as a wicked witch in their group.
Getting over the early mishaps, soon the crowd is well and truly gripped, thanks to an early airing of the luscious Made Up Love Song #43. The simplicity of lyrics proclaiming “the beauty of an empty Coke can” nestles snugly into the complexity of a plodding double-bass mixed with soaring synths.
This combination of styles is evident throughout, with the musicians as comfortable subtly providing support to Fyfe’s heartbreaking voice as they are producing electrifying samba rhythms. Annie, Let’s Not Wait and Trains From Brazil sound more suited to carnivals than the Corn Exchange, but it somehow fits.
On occasion, certain ideas don’t quite succeed, such as Fyfe’s attempts to jump from keyboard to guitar with increasing regularity, making both seem disjointed. Also, selecting three consecutive ballads mid-set leads to a momentary lull in the crowd. Nevertheless, it is easy to forgive a band trying to break the mould.
Sheer fun radiates from the stage; there are dancing penguins on the screen behind the band, while their devoted audience dances like penguins in front of them. The fittingly epic finale Sao Paolo typifies this, as 17 people fill the stage, using stepladders and dustbin lids as drums. The unexpected is accepted when watching Guillemots, with the only guarantee being a unique experience.
Greg Rose
Gig Review - The Long Blondes
The Long Blondes
Concorde 2, Brighton
Thursday, 26th October
No pushing, no shoving, and certainly no casual dressing – this is a Long Blondes gig, and we are here to look good. This band attracts an audience of impeccable taste, from their neck scarves to their delectation of pop music’s more considered side.
Once onstage, the band launch straight into their catalogue of cultured cuts, opening with the menacing bass line of Lust in the Movies and keeping the frenetic pace up throughout their 50-minute set.
New songs from album Someone To Drive You Home – out next Monday as we are told on two occasions – dominate the set. Of these, the stomping You Could Have Both is a highlight, with a chorus so infectious grown men are seen singing along, attempting to hit notes they clearly weren’t designed to reach.
The adulation singer Kate Jackson attracts is clear to see inside this archaic venue, with girls wanting to be her and men wanting to be with her. But Ms Jackson is no longer just the stylish embodiment of her band; she leads with her voice not just her presence. Her sultry tones stand out over Dorian’s raking guitar, elevating songs like Giddy Stratospheres to new heights.
This is sometimes necessary, as musically the band don’t quite reach such dizzying levels. Bassist Reenie often crosses the line between looking cool and just plain bored, while guitarist/keyboardist Emma seems drowned by the surging sound around her, contributing little.
However, when songs like new single Once And Never Again are casually thrown into the set, any criticism quickly fades. It typifies the articulate crafting of Long Blondes songs, full of knowingly precarious lyrics and sheer, unadulterated fun. A mass sing-along naturally ensues, as Kate literally preaches the song to her rapturous following.
The Long Blondes are by no means the polished article, but this makes them even more endearing. They’ve got the songs, the singer and the style – surely the success is just around the corner.
7 out of 10
Greg Rose
Concorde 2, Brighton
Thursday, 26th October
No pushing, no shoving, and certainly no casual dressing – this is a Long Blondes gig, and we are here to look good. This band attracts an audience of impeccable taste, from their neck scarves to their delectation of pop music’s more considered side.
Once onstage, the band launch straight into their catalogue of cultured cuts, opening with the menacing bass line of Lust in the Movies and keeping the frenetic pace up throughout their 50-minute set.
New songs from album Someone To Drive You Home – out next Monday as we are told on two occasions – dominate the set. Of these, the stomping You Could Have Both is a highlight, with a chorus so infectious grown men are seen singing along, attempting to hit notes they clearly weren’t designed to reach.
The adulation singer Kate Jackson attracts is clear to see inside this archaic venue, with girls wanting to be her and men wanting to be with her. But Ms Jackson is no longer just the stylish embodiment of her band; she leads with her voice not just her presence. Her sultry tones stand out over Dorian’s raking guitar, elevating songs like Giddy Stratospheres to new heights.
This is sometimes necessary, as musically the band don’t quite reach such dizzying levels. Bassist Reenie often crosses the line between looking cool and just plain bored, while guitarist/keyboardist Emma seems drowned by the surging sound around her, contributing little.
However, when songs like new single Once And Never Again are casually thrown into the set, any criticism quickly fades. It typifies the articulate crafting of Long Blondes songs, full of knowingly precarious lyrics and sheer, unadulterated fun. A mass sing-along naturally ensues, as Kate literally preaches the song to her rapturous following.
The Long Blondes are by no means the polished article, but this makes them even more endearing. They’ve got the songs, the singer and the style – surely the success is just around the corner.
7 out of 10
Greg Rose
Gig Review - The View
The View
The Met Lounge, Peterborough
Wednesday, 6th September 2006
Peterborough is a long way from Dundee, but news travels fast in rock n’ roll, resulting in the pokey venue selling out before you had a chance to ask “Did you hear that Little DJs song on Jo Whiley today?”
The four likely lads in The View are riding a rollercoaster of commercial radio fervour, with even the most sceptical cynic heard humming That song on the bus. But you can’t blame Kyle, Keiren, Peter and Steve for that – nobody turns down success however fast it comes.
But are these Scottish scallies another Bravery, following one good single with a turgid album and soulless live performances? Songs like the infectious ‘Coming Down’ dispel this thought with one howl of Kyle’s voice. Sounding like an early-Libertines Pete Doherty crossing swords with Bobby Gillespie, it clashes against jagged guitars with remarkable cohesion for such an inexperienced band.
However, a shambolic and loveable quality which has earned Libertines comparisons is evident in ‘Skag Trendy’, with danceable noise substituting for any conventional melody, yet managing to remain altogether charming.
It is, of course, ‘Wasted Little DJs’ that earns the largest cheer from the lager-fuelled crowd, chanting every word as if waiting for this moment all week. The laddish nature of the crowd is striking – The View’s possible longevity could owe to this, with blokes normally seen throwing chairs in the local Wetherspoons as attracted to their urgent indie sound as the drainpipe-clad scenesters standing at the back.
Nevertheless, more substance is needed if these tykes are to last the course. Mid-set, songs began to blend into one, with incomprehensible mutterings from Kyle between numbers only adding to the reduction of intensity.
Whether they have enough great songs is still debatable. They need the help of ‘Definitely Maybe’ producer Owen Morris to ensure their album has a cleaner sound, while maintaining their live energy. But with only a handful of gigs behind them, their potential is almost as huge as their haircuts.
6 out of 10
Greg Rose
The Met Lounge, Peterborough
Wednesday, 6th September 2006
Peterborough is a long way from Dundee, but news travels fast in rock n’ roll, resulting in the pokey venue selling out before you had a chance to ask “Did you hear that Little DJs song on Jo Whiley today?”
The four likely lads in The View are riding a rollercoaster of commercial radio fervour, with even the most sceptical cynic heard humming That song on the bus. But you can’t blame Kyle, Keiren, Peter and Steve for that – nobody turns down success however fast it comes.
But are these Scottish scallies another Bravery, following one good single with a turgid album and soulless live performances? Songs like the infectious ‘Coming Down’ dispel this thought with one howl of Kyle’s voice. Sounding like an early-Libertines Pete Doherty crossing swords with Bobby Gillespie, it clashes against jagged guitars with remarkable cohesion for such an inexperienced band.
However, a shambolic and loveable quality which has earned Libertines comparisons is evident in ‘Skag Trendy’, with danceable noise substituting for any conventional melody, yet managing to remain altogether charming.
It is, of course, ‘Wasted Little DJs’ that earns the largest cheer from the lager-fuelled crowd, chanting every word as if waiting for this moment all week. The laddish nature of the crowd is striking – The View’s possible longevity could owe to this, with blokes normally seen throwing chairs in the local Wetherspoons as attracted to their urgent indie sound as the drainpipe-clad scenesters standing at the back.
Nevertheless, more substance is needed if these tykes are to last the course. Mid-set, songs began to blend into one, with incomprehensible mutterings from Kyle between numbers only adding to the reduction of intensity.
Whether they have enough great songs is still debatable. They need the help of ‘Definitely Maybe’ producer Owen Morris to ensure their album has a cleaner sound, while maintaining their live energy. But with only a handful of gigs behind them, their potential is almost as huge as their haircuts.
6 out of 10
Greg Rose
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