CLUAS Gig Reviews

Neil Young (live in Dublin)

Sat, 27 Jun 2009 21:21:00 GMT

Neil Young (live in The O2, Dublin)

Review Snapshot: Neil Young and Co. pulled no punches during their June 21 show at Dublin’s O2. Now 63 years old, Neil Young still puts on an exciting and visceral show. Ripping through crushing riff laden classics such as Cinnamon Girl and Hey Hey, My My, Young made no effort whatsoever to show his age. Even in the quieter moments of the show, Young was still all blood and guts, singing every line like he still means it. Once upon a time, Young sang that “rock ‘n’ roll can never die”. It certainly won’t as long as he’s around.

The Cluas Verdict? 9.5 out of 10

Full Review:
The opening act on the night was Villagers, who set up in the cramped space between stage front and Neil Young's mammoth set-up of amps, pianos, organs and various other noise making devices. They seemed comfortable in front of such a massive crowd, Conor O'Brien howling and crooning with a passion that was soon to be echoed by Ol' Shakey himself. The crowd themselves were appreciative, which only fed the band’s enthusiasm.

Young and his band pulled no punches, opening up with the crushing Hey Hey, My My. Rock 'n' roll will never die indeed. I envied those who were standing up front getting the full force of Neil's sonic maelstrom, especially from the gigantic Baldwin Exterminator amp (an 8 foot tall monstrosity, surely a Health and Safety nightmare).

The band showed themselves to be multi-talented, with all but the drummer and bass player shifting around to various instruments and vocal duties.

The two hour set consisted mostly of older material, with just one nod to his more recent work. Neil is clearly in his element on stage, stomping around firing off screeching, rumbling guitar solos with a ferocity you rarely see in bands forty years younger than him. Age is clearly not an issue for Young.

When he wasn’t beating the living hell out of his trusty electric guitar, Ol’ Black, he gave tender and fragile renditions of his acoustic material. The classic Harvest Moon was particularly beautiful, with Young’s band capturing all the sweetness of the original.

The highlights of the show were Rockin' In The Free World (he must have played it for about 20 minutes), the beautiful and slightly bizarre Neil and organ solo Mother Earth and his raucous cover of The Beatles' A Day In The Life, which ended in him tearing the strings off his guitar and making the most unholy noises you've ever heard in your life.

A Day In The Life seemed to me to be a realisation of John Lennon’s original idea, totally bombastic without being ridiculous. Young’s guitar more than made up for the lack of the orchestra in The Beatles' cut.

Having been to Bob Dylan in The O2 earlier in the year, I was a little apprehensive about the gig, but Neil was as passionate and fiery as he has ever been. Think about THAT Bob!

Nick Appleby

DM Stith, The Acorn (live in Paris)

Mon, 18 May 2009 09:01:00 GMT

DM Stith and The Acorn (live in La Maroquinerie, Paris)

Review Snapshot: A cracking double bill of cinematic, romantic North American folk-rock to warm this cold Paris cellar. DM Stith is the quiet small-town Everyman with an otherworldly voice; The Acorn are your ideal college roommates. In their own ways, the two acts win over the crowd with their invention, sincerity and vision – though most punters will go home talking about Stith.

The Cluas Verdict? 9 out of 10

Full Review:
The average rock fan, on heading out on a Friday night, probably worries about catching things other than pneumonia or the common cold. But here we are in La Maroquinerie, a popular Paris venue, on a May evening and it actually feels chilly down here when normally these cellar walls are running with punter perspiration.

You see, the place isn’t even half full – and whenever the door opens, a draught sweeps round the room. It’s odd that more people haven’t come out to see such an attractive double bill of two buzz names on the transatlantic indie music wires.

But those here tonight are the curious and genuinely interested: fortunately for both acts, most people stand right up at the stage instead of leaving a crescent of indifferent floorspace to greet the performers. There are no ‘SHH!’-ers here nor need of them. And tonight’s committed crowd is rewarded by two engaging and enjoyable shows. These two acts go well together.

Both DM Stith and The Acorn (support and headline acts respectively) play a blend of indie- and folk-rock flavoured by more exotic influences, though the American evokes the bookish teenager and the Canadian band are more like your joint-smoking college roommates. (Keyboardist Mike Dubue actually enquires mid-set whether it’s easy to procure marijuana in Paris. For the record, the wisdom of tonight’s crowd holds that it isn’t.)

Where Stith’s recordings are swathed in swirling wisps of ether, on stage with his band those songs are concrete and robust – the man himself (above right) goes about his business in a workmanlike way, chiselling out chords like an apprentice carpenter and grinning boyishly between songs. (He looks like a teenage Donald Sutherland.) To strum the rhythm of ‘Pigs’ he mutes his guitar by folding a piece of cloth through the strings – but then still takes the trouble of making the chord shapes. And as he launches into the next song he forgets to take the cloth out of the strings. His air of affability makes him quite likeable. (After the show he chats amiably with fans at the merchandise table.)

But that voice, piercing and melancholic like a train whistle across a prairie, still conjures up romance and escape and a sort of bruised yearning. This is captured in his music by exotic scales and chord progressions such as in songs like ‘Fire Of Birds’ and ‘Pity Dance’. Adding to the pleasing sense of oddness, the violinist and cellist produce a Theremin-type sound by swinging red plastic outflow pipes over their heads.

Dare we say that Stith steals the show? Well, we can’t remember ever seeing a support act coming back out for an encore, as Stith does tonight after heartfelt calls from the crowd.

This isn’t to suggest that The Acorn are any less enjoyable; they rock. Their songs fall into two camps: lumberjack-shirt folk-rock (‘Crooked Legs’, ‘Fallen Leaves’) and Vampire Weekend-style college world-pop (‘Low Gravity’, ‘Flood Pt 1’). They do both well. The apparent extravagance of having two drummers is justified by the band’s dependence on strong, inventive rhythms: while DM Stith requires attentive listening, The Acorn are for dancing and most of the crowd bop along to their set. That said, in their own way The Acorn are just as poetic and escapist as Stith – those world rhythms, of course, but also singer Rolf Klausener’s rich, warm voice and songs about his mother's youth in Honduras.

The only downer of the night is that this band’s best song, the joyous tribal hymn ‘Flood Pt 1’, is drowned in a murky sound mix that has too much bass: the track’s glorious guitar line is almost completely lost. Many people here tonight have come to see The Acorn on the basis of loving that song, so it’s a pity to hear it slightly botched.

There’s something in the North American experience that constantly inspires books and music and art which are cinematic and sincere and aspirational compared to the self-conscious cynicism and irony of many European artists. Whether it comes from the vast widescreen landscape or immigrant heritage or maybe some last trace of the frontier spirit, both The Acorn and DM Stith exemplify this. They deserve to be playing packed furnaces of venues from now on, and we suspect that Stith’s support-slot days will soon be behind him.

Aidan Curran

Aphex Twin, Luke Vibert (live in Paris)

Mon, 11 May 2009 08:45:00 GMT

Aphex Twin, Luke Vibert - WARP 20 (live in Cité de la Musique, Paris)

Review Snapshot: To honour one of electronic music's best-loved labels, a birthday bash featuring two cult figures from different points on the spectrum of that genre. Vibert's DJ set is cool and seductive; Aphex Twin sets your head and entrails to spin-cycle. Two different live experiences but each great in their own way.

The Cluas Verdict? 8 out of 10

Full Review:
Gouging the mind’s ear for two decades now, Warp Records are currently celebrating their twentieth birthday by putting on shows in major cities around the world. The Paris leg at the Cité de la Musique comprises two nights: last night Pivot, !!! and Jarvis Cocker were among those getting the party started (Nightmares On Wax apparently pulled out at the last minute) and tonight Aphex Twin (right), Luke Vibert, Hudson Mohawke, Leila and Plaid are blowing out the candles.

Luke Vibert is here doing a DJ set in what’s normally an installation space at this venue, a combination of museum, exhibition centre and concert hall for all genres of music. Apparently there’s some international turntable code decreeing that artists can’t play their own music during DJ sets, so we don’t hear Vibert’s gorgeous ‘Sharp AZ’.

But no matter: his DJ set is fantastic. He starts out soulfully with the eclecticism, sensitivity and funkiness of Mo’Wax and the boy Shadow in particular. At just the right moments he knows when to up the beats and build excitement before pulling it down into cooler, more cerebral sounds again. Thus he plays with the crowd all during his set, and it’s impossible not to get swept up in it.

Only once does Vibert drop the ball, by working in the vocals from ‘The Power of Love’ by Frankie Goes To Hollywood. The effect is to make the crowd self-consciously aware that they’re dancing to some ‘80s naffness, like when a film actor gives a corny line straight to camera with a wink. But that’s just a minor blip. Luke Vibert is probably the best DJ we’ve ever danced to, though in fairness we only have as a comparison DJ Wreck-The-Buzz at our local hop.

Dashing into the main concert hall so as to grab a space for Aphex Twin, we caught the end of Plaid’s set. Earlier we had seen some of Leila’s turn. Both seemed impressive enough from the brief glimpse we got of each, so we must check them out in detail sometime. (We didn’t get to see Hudson Mohawke. Sorry.)

As for tonight’s marquee name, Aphex Twin live is an impressive experience. Richard D. James (born in Limerick!) looks less diabolic in person than the distorted face from his videos: in fact, he exudes a kind of Jamie Oliver mate-iness. His alter-ego, though, is gleefully malevolent – those squelchy, distorted sounds trouble your mind and shudder your entrails.

On which point, his visuals feature a gruesomely clinical mortuary sequence that’s not for the squeamish; some punters briefly stepped outside to recall their lunch. In a shout out to the home crowd, we also got a slide show of the sicker images from controversial ‘60s French satirical magazine Hara Kiri.

As for the music, there are times when James coasts along by letting the bare beats drag on for a minute or two, as if he’s filling time while rooting in his bag for another trick. Anyone who came just to hear ‘Windowlicker’ or ‘Come To Daddy’ will have been disappointed; the pretty piano melody of 'Flim' is the only one of Aphex Twin’s more familiar, accessible or ambient tracks to get a (brief) run-out tonight.

But overall it’s a great show. For pop kids like your reviewer, not a regular at live electronica or techno, the sensory blitzkrieg of Aphex Twin was an overwhelming thrill. This is one new customer who’ll be shopping here again, then.

Aidan Curran

Morrissey (live in Galway)

Sat, 09 May 2009 14:24:00 GMT

Morrissey (live in Leisureland, Galway)

Review Snapshot: Great set, shame about the venue . . .

The Cluas Verdict? 8 out of 10

Full Review:

I am in ‘the coastal town that they forgot to shut down,’ trudging along a drizzly Salthill Promenade. Welcoming lights beckon a few feet ahead. They belong to Leisureland: swimming pool, fitness centre, off-season funfair park, and the venue for tonight’s Morrissey concert. As I enter the grounds, I pass a heap of dismantled funfair ride equipment being rained on; perfect material for Morrissey. Perhaps he’ll see it and write a song about it. Heaven Knows These Waltzers Are RustyNow, or some such. The entrance has an A4 sheet of paper tacked to it that reads, ‘Morrissy’. Someone - a disgruntled fan perhaps - has used a biro to helpfully add the ‘e’.

Inside, I am greeted by the welcoming aroma of chlorine. I make my way past the ‘bar’, which is roughly the size of a hotel mini bar (a badly stocked one). I find a good spot; close enough to the front to get a good view, but far enough away to avoid being trampled by Morrissey’s more hysterical fan boys. The gig is yet to start, so I survey the empty stage. The backdrop is a huge black and white image of a sailor, proudly brandishing his muscles, as he smokes a cigar that dangles from the corner of his mouth. Great. There is a giant gong on stage. Brilliant. I can see a shelf offstage, lined with a row of those enormous silver exercise balls. Erm? It begins to feel like the audience is part of some leisure centre Morrissey flash mob. I look down, expecting to see a disgruntled pilates class squashed under our feet.

Thankfully, when Morrissey appears on stage, he more than distracts us from our shoddy surroundings. Nobody brandishes a tambourine quite like Morrissey and the way he manipulates a microphone flex is an art form in and of itself. He trails it casually, intermittently whipping it behind him like a charismatic ring master. He performs with a youthful vigour that convinces me there must be an ageing picture of Steven Patrick Morrissey hidden in some dusty attic.

Smiths fans are in their element as they are treated to several classics, including Ask, Some Girls AreBigger Than Others, and This Charming Man. ‘For a Wednesday night, I suppose it’s not bad,’ drolls Morrissey, as the crowd cheers in a slightly manic fashion. As he launches into How Soon Is Now? I begin to wonder if Morrissey gets bored, singing his hit songs from the 80’s night after night. After a while, wouldn’t it start to feel like karaoke? How does he keep it interesting for himself? My question is answered by an incredible red strobe light sequence at the end of the song, which accompanies some frantic gong playing by one of Morrissey’s band members. It is these details that add a whole new dimension to these familiar songs, elevating the show into a brave new audio-visual world.

The lights are worth singling out in particular. (I haven’t seen such effective use of stage lighting since I saw MC Supernatural supporting Jurassic 5 back in 2001.) The aforementioned sailor backdrop is intermittently drenched in yellow, green, red and blue light; or silhouettes of the band are cast onto it. The lighting cues are timed perfectly to the music; many songs ending in a pleasingly dramatic fashion with an abrupt black out. The one incidence of overkill occurs during Ask, when piercing yellow searchlights scan the crowd, as though trying to unearth the ‘buck-toothed girl’ from Luxemburg. I have to cover my eyes with my hand until the song is over. Shyness may be nice, but blindness is not.

Songs from ‘You Are The Quarry’ are well received, among them, Irish Blood, English Heart, How Can Anybody Possibly Know How I Feel?, and First Of The Gang To Die. The highlight is a particularly emotive rendition of Let Me Kiss You, with Morrissey ripping off his sweaty shirt and throwing it into the crowd during the line:

But then you look in my eyes

And you see someone

That you physically despise.

But my heart is open,

My heart is open to you . . .

Before playing his new single, he addresses us politely: ‘May I lodge a complaint? HMV in Galway refused to stock my new single.’ This is greeted with a chorus of pantomime boos and shouts of ‘Wankers!’ from the audience. I can only presume the decision by HMV isn’t due to any particular anti-Morrissey sentiment – it’s certainly the catchiest song about anti-depressants I’ve ever heard - but rather a general decline in sales of singles.

It is still raining as the crowd exits Leisureland, but nobody seems to care. The sound of excited chatter fills the air; a sound generally reserved for contented concert-goers. Not bad for a Wednesday night. Not bad at all.

Máire T. Robinson

MSTRKRFT (live in Dublin)

Wed, 06 May 2009 17:26:00 GMT

MSTRKRFT (live in The Academy, Dublin)

Review Snapshot: Toronto’s electro remixers blast out the tunes to an adoring, dancing, day-glo crowd. Subtext? Not for the over-25s.

The Cluas Verdict? 6 out of 10

Full Review:
‘Isn’t that just Mr. Scruff spelt wrong?’ I was asked when heading to see Toronto duo MSTRKRFT at the Academy. No, it’s Mastercraft (also spelt wrong). The moustachioed men have remixed all your favourites: Buck 65, Death From Above 1979, Bloc Party, Metric, Justice. Due to arrive on at 12.30, the masters were supported during the wait by LA Riots, a DJ who decidedly kept quite serious but popped out some tech-house tunes for the filling crowd to bop to.

Somehow we garnered a spot in the VIP lounge, which was ironically equipped with opposites in excess - a large wooden Buddha and several bottles of Cristal. Looking down onto the crowd I noticed many neon T-shirts and indoor sunglasses and began to feel a bit removed from it all.

Resembling a pair of cowboys (with a bottle of JD on the decks to back up that point), ALP and JFK aka MSTRKRFT bounced onto stage eventually at 1.15am. With alien sounding beats on their build-ups and inspiring a blonde guy to stage dive, they moved the crowd to a level of insanity not far off the emotional outbursts of hysteria at festivals. Strobe lights, purple lights, flashing lights; the venue did its best to raise the level of the show far above simply two guys on decks. It worked.

Men posed at the barriers while MSTRKRFT knocked out heavy remixes of Spiller, Justice’s DVNO, Simian Mobile Disco, and more Daft Punk era floor-fillers. It was about this time that the crowd began to jump and the DJs did too. This inspired a vast number of crowd-surfs, another stage dive (see above) and people trying to get across the barriers while the bouncers quickly made little of them in their massive arms.

Two years ago I would have been right there, until the very last tune, dancing without purpose or care. But I’ve started to believe that maybe nights like this are not designed for the over-25s.

This one left me with a brain melt, as well as the vision of a hairy white bum that was exposed as one man tripped down the Academy staircase.

Pint of Guinness in Doyle’s anyone?

Niamh Madden

R.S.A.G. (live in Dublin)

Mon, 04 May 2009 18:08:00 GMT

R.S.A.G. (live in Whelans, Dublin)

Review Snapshot: Big fan of drum solos? Nah, me neither. Fortunately Jeremy Hickey, spotted above ground on a drum stool last weekend, kept the solos to a minimum.

The Cluas Verdict? 7 out of 10

Full Review:

Sure, there were lots of great fills and extravagant percussion but almost always with the backing of his very own phantom band. This is where the visuals come in. On a projected screen behind the drums was the reverse silhouette of Hickey accompanying himself on bass, acoustic guitar, handclaps and whatever else was called for. Not a brand new concept -- of all people Paul McCartney did a similar thing on TFI Friday about 15 years ago, but completely lacking Hickey's style or visual impact. Hickey's visuals were creepy and expressionless figures, one of them hooded, looking like a funky drop-out Ewok. A more interesting sight than most bands could muster.

His voice is a sort of cross between John Martyn's mumble and a throaty Ian Curtis yelp. It's fairly low in the mix and if you weren't already familiar with his Choice nominated album "Organic Sampler" you'd struggle to work out what he's singing. So the songs can get a little samey. The drums are obviously centre stage and the rest of the instruments act more as foundations for the song rather than the other way around. It's a fresh way of approaching the 4/5 piece band, though I'm not sure it can hold a crowd for an hour plus.

Among the highlights of the night were "Talk Back Crawl Back", "Stick To Your Line" and "It Over", which got a good cheer from the crowd when that infectious acoustic riff kicked in, doubled by the bass.

RSAG is undoubtedly a great talent; he has enough good songs to cement a decent set and the visuals give a memorable impact to the show. However for one hour plus, the one man groove might be spread a little too thin.

Peter Teehan

Oliver Cole & Alphastates (live in Dublin)

Mon, 27 Apr 2009 07:34:00 GMT

Oliver Cole, Alphastates & Others (live in Radio City, Dublin)

Review Snapshot: There's something different about Oliver Cole these days, and not just the use of his full forename. A happier Cole headlined a Revolver night with a multiude of new songs and was ably supported by a number of old and new faces.

The Cluas Verdict? 8.5 out of 10

Full Review:
This was a strange gig for me. I'm normally the bloke that stands towards the back, arms crossed, doing my best to look non-plussed about the whole thing. Not tonight, as I'm forced up the front by over anxious friends, one of whom is a work colleague of one of the acts (consider that my declaration of interest). It did have it's benefits though, as you can see in Key Notes Set List Special.

Opening tonight was Gillian Verrachia. She easily overcame an inauspicious start (the stool she was supposed to sit on was set way too high for someone of her height) to produce a set full of, if not exactly groundbreaking, melodic and catchy alt-folk songs. She did, as did every act, have to face the challenge of being heard over a very noisy crowd, but is in possesion of a voice so powerful that it betrayed her diminutive frame. It would be interesting to hear Verrachia with the backing of a full band but it was an enjoyable start to night nonetheless.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for Square Revolution. Perhaps I'm looking for too much, but I like my songs to have some sort of structure or, at the very least, a hint of melody. This Radiohead lite schtick does nothing for me and when a band has to resort to a t-shirt (albeit a very cool t-shirt) to get its biggest applause of the evening, you know you're in trouble.

Thankfully, things picked up quite quickly when The Gandhis took the stage and launched straight into an ode to Mr. Data (yes, him from Star Trek). I hadn't seen this band before but their blend of rock funk (and I mean funk in the positive, Howard Moon, sense of the word) is so insanely catchy that I found myself singing along to songs I didn't really know the lyrics of. I wasn't alone either as most of the audience seemed enraptured by this bands definite charms (think The Strokes merging with The Blizzards....but in a good way). Highlights of the set were new single Guy Like Me and Zaza.

Alphastates, complete with a visibly pregnant Catherine Dowling, were next on stage. Now, I'm a big fan of Alphastates debut, Made from Sand, but, it's been so long since I've seen the band live, I was worried they might not be able to blend their old songs with their new sound. I needn't have worried. Opening with Top of the World and Indian Sky the band then moved seamlessly into a new track, You Talked. As always, Alphastates are defined tonight by Dowling's distinctive vocals and the wall of sound created by the rest of the band. It is an impressive aural experience and one that manages to drown out the inane chatter coming from the back of the room. It might have been my imagination but it's quite possible that even Dowling's unborn child was rocking out.

The final act of the night is Oliver Cole, complete with full band. Cole's in his usual talkative mode but there's something else tonight, something I haven't seen in the Kells native since the halcyon days of TURN; he seems happy to be on stage. That being said, Cole apologises early on for the fact that we might not know a great deal of the songs he will be playing tonight. While that turns out to be true it is clear that Cole's long running muses of time (particularly an apparent loathing of wasting it) and love will dominate his forthcoming debut solo LP.

The last time I saw Cole, it was just him and his guitar, but tonight he has a full band in tow and the songs benefit from it, particularly the gorgeous Moth's Wing. The biggest cheer of the night comes when Cole and band launch into In Position and, for just a fleeting moment, the collective consciousness of the crowd recalls just how good a band TURN were and what a shame it is that they are no more. However, in Oliver Cole's new project, we have a more mature, reflective offering and, based on tonight's evidence, that's far from a consolation prize.

Steve O'Rourke

Ellen Allien (live in Dublin)

Sun, 26 Apr 2009 20:17:00 GMT

Ellen Allien (live in The Twisted Pepper, Dublin)

Review Snapshot: Reductionist beats. Minimum melody. This is minimal techno. And this, is dull.

The Cluas Verdict? 5.5 out of 10

Full Review:
'You Are Here,' the barman's T-shirt helpfully offered. 'Here' was the Twisted Pepper, but with its faux fur lampshades, dicks drawn on tables and scabby carpets, 'Here' felt very much like a surreal 'There.'

'Why do I feel like I'm in the middle of a 90s Tarantino movie?' my gig partner quizzically spoke aloud. And I wondered the same thing. There was a tall man in an Indiana Jones hat walking around and a hyperactive guy in a pink top and a Pogo sign was stuck up with cable ties and a couple of couples sat, waiting.

The odd smells didn't offer any more coherence: The bar smelt of chocolate and cinnamon candles, the toilet's odour resembled boiled spuds and, eventually, the venue filled up with the scent of sweat.

Ellen, Ellen, Ellen. Are You Here? Ellen's set began late in the evening – at 12.30 she took to the stage with reductionist beats and a heavy bassline. This, I thought, will build up. This, I thought, will get better. Being used to the ambient electronica tones of Ellen's work with fellow German DJ Apparat, her minimal techno set surprised me. But then, I should have known better, seeing as her website bio explicitly states that 'techno and I have developed together.'

And it seems that techno has regressed in its development: Ellen's solo work did not get better for me. Her stripped down beats attracted a huge crowd though, all of who were clearly there to dance to the German techno DJ's sounds. People were sweating, dancing on the benches at the side, getting into it.

The splurgey audio samples and constellation visuals evoked an otherworldly Big Brother feel, where only minimum expression in art would be tolerated. Was I missing something? The crowd's participation, enjoyment and bopping made me feel I may not have understood the music. The climaxes were absent, the crescendos, the thuds and blips; instead one constant beat thundered and hammered its way into the next tune without letting up. But still, Ellen gave her all to the set and the crowd gave its all to Ellen.

Perhaps I should have listened to Allien's solo work before attending the gig. Perhaps I should have been on what the crowd was. Or perhaps minimal techno is a brand for the melodically inept, those satisfied with anti-climaxes. Could this be the apathetic monotonous hum that reflects postmodern life? Or is it just lazy music-making?

The evening left me baffled, tired and dry-mouthed. But the crowd's eagerness seemed to tell a different story. Any further insights?

Niamh Madden

Funeral Suits, Kill Krinkle Klub, Heathers and Angel Pier (live in Dublin)

Sun, 26 Apr 2009 19:31:00 GMT

Funeral Suits, Angel Pier & Others (live in Andrew’s Lane Theatre)

Review Snapshot: From post-punk posse to girl in a fur hat on synths, this IMRO gig proved that Dublin’s musicians are coming out with as much variety as a pick ‘n’ mix bag.

The Cluas Verdict? 7 out of 10

Full Review:
Feedback and static. This was the splice of Funeral Suits that hit me when walking into Andrew’s Lane Theatre, where a thin crowd quietly sipped drinks at tables. The three-piece band began with a Bloc Party style track, and rolled into other influences with the ease and enthusiasm of youths covering their favourite bands: Stone Roses, Maximo Park, The Cure. With blurred pixilated visuals onscreen behind him, the drummer looked like he was wearing Philip K. Dicks’ scramble suit. The band’s full sound was impressive, but nothing that has not been done before.

When the yellow and pink rays of light streamed onto us, there was a calm after Funeral Suits’ noisy set. This peace continued when Kill Krinkle Klub took to the stage, their intro a dramatic dusky piece of composure under blue lights. The synth and keyboard player wore a furry hat and a geisha mask while she looped vocal samples. The rest of the band knocked out complicated and constantly changing time signatures. Each track was different, unusual and unique: Pirate songs, traditional Irish melodies, delicate music. The lead singer’s voice grated on me at times with its faux-high notes, but otherwise the band showcased a new style that has potential.

Heathers were up next. The crowd began to pack themselves into the front spaces of the venue to listen to the two girls onstage. Consisting simply of their rich and melodious harmonies and an acoustic guitar, Heathers talents lie not just in their tight singing. The girls also write songs that would appeal to a mass audience with catchy choruses and novel hooks (one song is half in English, half in Irish). These girls just need a backing band to capture a large international market. Partly though, I liked the raw acoustics and hoped that a backing band wouldn’t take away from their intimate stage presence.

Finally on the IMRO list was Angel Pier, a Franz Ferdinand style outfit, whose polished sound gave them the feel of a band that has practised a lot to get this far. There are however several rock bands out there already who are producing their brand of music. NME touted them as ‘classic indie pop,’ which may certainly appeal to a young audience. The band will also play the ‘Best of’ gig taking place on 2nd May.

Niamh Madden

Groom (live in Dublin)

Sun, 26 Apr 2009 11:53:00 GMT

Groom (live, Upstairs in Whelan's, Dublin)

Review Snapshot: Those who were downstairs waiting for Mundy to play one of his two songs, could have done far worse than make their way upstairs to see two examples of how one man and a guitar doesn't have to sound boring or formulaic.

The Cluas Verdict? 8 out of 10

Full Review:
Being a vegetarian means that sometimes, when you want more than just 'Pasta in a non-descript white sauce', you find yourself having to look around for somewhere to eat. It was because of this that I only arrived in Whelan's half way through Neosupervital's support slot. This was my first time upstairs in Whelan's and it has a very peculiar shape for a venue and appears to be more suited from its previous purpose (as a smoking room) than as a gig venue. That being said, its design forces people towards the stage and lends an intimacy that many venues lack.

Tim 'Neosupervital' O'Donovan is leading a one man crusade to to bring synth pop to the masses. Now that he's no longer on drumming duties for Bell X1, it appears O'Donovan is concentrating more on his music than his image. Gone are the sharp suits and Knightrider sunglasses and in comes a sound that relies more on Neosupervital's craft and musicianship than drum machines and computers. It's very early to say but, on this performance, one can't help but be very excited about O'Donovan's upcoming sophomore record.

Next on stage was Groom who proved to be more than just Mike Stevens and his whimsical way with words. Opening with Death of a Songwriter, Stevens and his talented band lead the audience through a set that consists mostly of tracks from their new mini-album, At the Natural History Museum.

While it was the upbeat tracks such as Mythical Creatures and Worst of Places, Worst of Times (a song about the 80's) that provoked the best reaction from the crowd, it was on At the Natural History Museum and Moving West that Groom proved their worth as accomplished musicians and performers. Stevens himself seems, at times, a reluctant frontman (think E without the beard) and yet, walked amongst the audience shaking hands with everyone he could during one instrumental section.

Overall, tonight could well prove to be something of a watershed moment in Irish indie music. While downstairs, Mundy was helping Whelan's celebrate their 20th birthday with his own brand of alt-folk, so loved by Irish music fans for the last 10 years, upstairs two of Ireland's most innovative and exciting acts were showcasing the future of indie music in this country.

Steve O'Rourke

Alias Empire (live in Dublin)

Sat, 18 Apr 2009 21:52:00 GMT

Alias Empire (live in Crawdaddy, Dublin)

Review Snapshot: Happy, dizzy, sweaty: Alias Empire rocked a sell-out Antics night with enough synths to wake yer granddad.

The Cluas Verdict? 9 out of 10

Full Review:
I like disproportion. And I like sensory stimulation. This might explain my love of tiny daffodils, miniature Heroes and giant Jenga. It would also account for my pleasant feelings on walking into Tripod Wednesday night to see a huge white Raffaello on the ceiling, a giant stretched thong-like decoration, young girls with small knees and a DJ with a tiny head and gigantic round headphones.

Crawdaddy filled up nicely as Antics began to sell out. The time waiting for Alias Empire (formerly Dry County) to take the stage was spent posing in front of visuals that consisted of whales, fish and other little monsters swirling around in a sea of colour. The music began with Jape and Morrissey and ended up getting all tech-house-like which got the crowd excited.

Before Alias Empire came on, I'd already inspected their equipment – MS 2000B synth (impressive-looking), numerous other synthesizers as well as a stage densely packed with wires. The four-piece Dublin band powerfully began with an introduction that was stimulating – lights under their microphones, visuals that included nuclear mushroom clouds and chattering teeth. Their new image's presence showed with AE Kraftwerk style T-shirts that were perhaps a little too imitative for my liking. When they played Attention about five people suddenly got up onstage, with one chubby guy jumping out and trying to crowd-surf across a too-thin audience.

Alias Empire played like voracious electronic beasts with a synthesizer tour-de-force that showed off their older tracks and fluently introduced new material that the crowd enjoyed. A short power-cut at the start of the set was disappointing, but covered up easily when it suddenly surged back and the band were back on their feet. Lead singer Kevin gave as much energy as he does on the band's debut album, and he proved to be adept at multi-tasking both singing and synth-ing. The baseball capped lead guitarist was also a star, getting all Lager Lager onstage, giving himself naturally to the audience.

The standout track was 'Stop – Proceed', which emitted lots of energy for dancing around to, and encouraging Kevin to note that the 'girl at the front knew the words'. (Me, of course). The final climax came when the band rolled from Pins to their own version of Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger. This got the crowd worked up and in the mood for going next door to dance after the gig. The band proved that their material works on many levels, with dancing, crowd-surfing and stage-invading all obvious elements of the evening.

Niamh Madden

I Phoenix, Harrows, House of Dolls, The Revellions (live in Dublin)

Mon, 13 Apr 2009 17:04:00 GMT

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Maximo Park (live in Dublin)

Tue, 07 Apr 2009 13:39:00 GMT

Maximo Park (live in The Academy, Dublin)

Review Snapshot: The Geordies return to Dublin to play new material and their old familiar songs to a packed Academy. As always they provide an energetic and enjoyable show, but sadly the new tracks don’t excite as much as I had hoped.

The Cluas Verdict? 7 out of 10

Full Review:
I was glad to see New Amusement on the bill. I don’t want to name names, but so often I get stuck watching some awful band with ideas far more grand than their talent. New Amusement once again impressed me. The newer tracks seem to follow on from the good standard they already set on ‘Any Port In A Storm’, but ‘Gone To Sea’ is still their stand-out track.

Any fans who had worries that Maximo Park would shirk away from playing their most popular tracks from their debut or their 2007 follow-up, ‘Our Earthly Pleasures’, preferring instead to debut songs from their upcoming new album had their fears allayed immediately as Maximo Park ripped into ‘Graffiti’ with the energy we have come to expect from them.

They are a fun band, and they know it. They hold no pretentions about what they are. They acknowledged this when introducing one of their new songs as being about a dancefloor, in fact, the second song in the set concentrating on that subject matter! And as a fun band, they entertain, with lead singer Paul Smith jumping around like an exuberant teenager, stamping on his pressure sensitive lit up podiums as they belted out ‘Girls Who Play Guitars’, ‘The Coast Is Always Changing’ and a host of their other hits.

The tracks off the new album do not seem to live up to the highs set by their first two albums, unfortunately. Even the band seemed to enjoy playing tracks like ‘Our Velocity’ and the excellent ‘Limassol’ more than previewing tracks like ‘In Another World (You Would’ve Found Yourself By Now)’ and ‘A Cloud Of Mystery’. ‘Let’s Get Clinical’ was an exception, a song that retains the catchy hooks that made the debut so instantly likeable. Perhaps they just need time to grow into these new songs. We will see when ‘Quicken The Heart’ is released in a couple of months.

Garret Cleland

A Place To Bury Strangers (live in Dublin)

Wed, 01 Apr 2009 17:52:00 GMT

A Place To Bury Strangers (live in Whelan's, Dublin)

Review Snapshot: The loudest band in New York brings their Jesus and Mary Chain meets My Bloody Valentine to Whelan’s of Wexford St. It’s an experience, but is definitely not for everyone.

The Cluas Verdict? 7 out of 10

Full Review:
You wouldn’t find Hitler playing music this loud…

Whelan’s seems to have abandoned its previous and strict curfew of 10.30 pm, as APTBS only took to the stage a few minutes after 11. Three support bands and a headline might seem like good value for €15, but that might not always be the case. The support bands here were Dublin’s own Sweet Jane, and two American outfits, Darker My Love and Dead Confederate. For the most part they were all quite mediocre and repetitive, with the exception of, in parts, Dead Confederate.

And then A Place To Bury Strangers took the stage. After the first few notes I squeezed my ear plugs in. People nearby looked in envy at my friend and I. They clearly were not prepared for the barrage of sound and noise they were about to endure. There were signs posted around the venue stating that strobe lighting was to be used. They should have had one up recommending the use of ear plugs, or even ear muffs.

But it was more than just noise. APTBS are not covering up a lack of talent by becoming ‘New York’s loudest band’ or shrouding their songs in an atmospheric wall-of-sound. Under the squealing guitars and thunderous bass lies melody and rhythms that escape most traditional bands. ‘To Fix The Gash In Your Head’, one of the stand- tracks on the album, was played in pulsating form with Ackermann throwing his guitar about with abandon.

Towards the end of the night the vocals were becoming totally drowned out by the wall of sound. I had to take my plugs out, just to feel the full volume. My head felt like it was about to explode. The visuals being projected behind the band were becoming more and more frenetic. It culminated in a sonic climax. As the volume soared they moved into ‘Ocean’, I saw about ten people leaving. I’m not sure if it was because they had an early start in the morning and it was nearing midnight, or simply because the noise was beyond belief. The girl beside me was desperately trying to pull her partner away, but he was lost in the noise and was unmovable. The music was consuming our bodies. And then it died away. With little ceremony they downed their instruments and left the stage, briefly thanking us.

It was a sonic experience, but I’m not sure if I would put myself through it again, unless they really tap into their potential on their next record. Their music does at time lack variety, and any longer than the 45 minutes they played would have dragged. Their music has ambition though, and this might just be the beginnings of something quite impressive. They might be shoe-gaze, but they are looking to the stars. My only gripe would be that I think some of the people at the bar could not hear them clearly!

Garret Cleland

Mogwai (live in Dublin)

Sun, 22 Mar 2009 17:43:00 GMT

Mogwai (live in The Academy, Dublin)

Review Snapshot: A long overdue Dublin gig by the purveyors of post-rock brings The Academy to never-before reached sonic levels on the opening night of a 3-day residency at the Dublin venue. The Hawk is Howling might disappoint in its recorded format, but it was the focal point around which this gig rocked.

The Cluas Verdict? 8 out of 10

Full Review:
The term "post-rock" has attached to it Celtic Tiger levels of stigma - who coined the phrase, who invented it, who pioneered it, who defines it? From Slint to Explosions In The Sky, there have been many life-altering post-rock moments but for me post-rock was born upon hearing Mogwai's 'Like Herod' at Witnness 2003. Its raucous and tense "bridge-chorus" section completely outshone the quiet-then-loud formula of bands I worshipped like The Smashing Pumpkins and Nirvana. As much as Mogwai might dislike being pigeonholed by an umbrella term, their live show does put them head and shoulders above whatever people may consider their contemporaries in the spectrum of instrumental rock.

Although never quite reaching their characteristic earplug-essential levels of loudness in this intimate club gig, the set-closing rock-out of 'Like Herod' and 'Batcat' - along with an intense feed of strobe lighting - was awesome. Leaving the stage before 10pm, there was a palpable sense of anti-climax amongst the crowd. They needn't have worried. Returning with an encore consisting solely of the 20 minute-plus epic 'My Father My King', it was the closest thing to metaphysical I had encountered since being told to use the term on the Yeats' question in the Leaving Cert. Centred around one brief arabic-esque melody, the track is somehow kept alive with intricate riff variations and in particular the crunching guitar of Stuart Braithwaite. This is all sounds very Spinal Tap - especially since the volume was turned up to eleven - but it works. Well worth checking out the Steve Albini-produced EP that brought this track to life.

'Scotland's Shame' aside, this reviewer was not overjoyed with Mogwai's latest offering The Hawk Is Howling. However the layered crescendo of 'I'm Jim Morrison, I'm Dead' and Barry Burns' eerie keyboard tinkering on 'Thank You Space Experts' did give the album a new breath of life in its live format. Burns himself induced the biggest headf**k of the evening with some indistinguishable-yet-haunting vocoder acappella at the end of 'Hunted By A Freak'. I'm going to park this review now, Mogwai's is not a medium to which words can do justice. In a dream world, these guys would be filling stadiums in their own right but until then lets hope they play the Electric Picnic.

Ronan Lawlor

Spinnerette (live in London)

Sat, 14 Mar 2009 21:26:00 GMT

Spinnerette (live in 02 Islington Academy, London)

A scan over Queens of the Stone Age's Wikipedia page reveals no fewer than nineteen groups considered to be 'associated acts', including Spinnerette, the latest vehicle for former Distellers frontwoman Brody Dalle. The association here is that Dalle is married to Queen's main man Josh Homme and by mentioning this I've committed a cardinal sin in the eyes of her superfans, who will immediately make the point that her career was a success before the two's union. This is true, and I apologise to those fans who turned up to see the new band perform at London's O2 Islington Academy, including the friend who accompanied me (who is a superfan, as well as being my main reason for being at the gig). But my point is that on early evidence, while Spinnerette might be pigeonholed into this clutch of acts, they have the potential to be one of the better ones on Homme's speed dial.

The scene for their first ever gig in the UK was the O2 Islington Academy. It's a slickly run venue located in the heart of North London, with bars on either side of the room ensuring short queuing times for drinks and a high risen stage making for good visibility. Opening for Spinnerette were the uninspiring Chapman Family and Future of the Left, only really noteworthy for the Chapman Family's frontman smashing his guitar (note to The Chapman Family: it loses the mystique if you come back out and check the guitars ok after the sets finished) and Future of the Left burning some hecklers with crude, but hilarious retorts.

Dalle and co strutted on to stage with minimum fuss, opening with a couple of tracks from the group's EP Ghetto Love. The short punk, punch of 'Valium Knights' and the Stooges throwback 'Bury My Heart' brought the crowd to boiling point and they never lost that energy. Away from Ghetto Love, the band also presented a number of new songs which I assume will be on their debut album released this May. 'Driving Song', as the title suggests is a standard enough rocker. Plenty of guitar layers hide its shortcomings, probably making it a decent album track. 'Cupid' was also particularly enjoyable. You know what you're going to get when Dalle promises a song is about "f**king your man" and the front woman didn't disappoint, sliding around stage in her tight outfit and heels to the delight of the male audience. She was in fine form, at first opting to play guitar but for the most part strutting around stage, sometimes relying on her elbows, knees or back to give her movement.

New single 'Sex Bomb' expectedly got the loudest cheer. Dalle's love letter to sixties pop still sparkles despite it's well worn melody thanks to Tony Bevilacqua's cranked up power chords and her crooning make it especially appealing live.

The gig ended in a haze of confusion when Dalle disappeared into the crowd. Bevilacqua looked concerned as she urged those who swarmed around her to "back the f**k up" before being smuggled backstage. I heard from some girls on the subway home that she had leapt in to crowd surf but landed on some skinny teenager girls who couldn't hold her weight. The house lights went on almost instantly bringing an abrupt end to the evening. It was somewhat anti-climax to what was an exhilarating night. But no matter; this was an evening intended to be a statement of arrival by the newly formed Spinnerette, and one that left me satisfactorily rocked.

Dean Van Nguyen

The Gaslight Anthem (live in Dublin)

Thu, 12 Mar 2009 12:07:00 GMT

The Gaslight Anthem (live in The Academy, Dublin)

Review Snapshot: Pop instincts wrapped in a ragged cloak. The Gaslight Anthem played their first Irish Gig in the Academy, March 4th, supported by Frank Turner. High energy and enthusiasm was the essence of the night. Live renditions of tracks from the critically acclaimed The '59 Sound were certainly done justice. Expressing tales of family, love, life, loss and youth reeling in the audience all driven by this four piece's taut muscular rock n' roll rhythms. The Gaslight Anthem are as tight as any band I've seen this, or even last year.

The Cluas Verdict? 8 out of 10

Full Review:

"The songs, the best of them, are adventures in the dark, incidents of wasted fury. Tales of kids born to run who lose anyway.…taut rock songs about people crushed by family, by lust, by living in this world every day…The promise and the threat of the night; the lure of the road; the quest for a chance worth taking and the lust to pay its price; girls glimpsed once at 80 miles an hour and never forgotten; the city streets as the last, permanent American frontier. We know the story: one thousand and one American nights, one long night of fear and love…there are no idle thoughts about how nice true love might be."
Rolling Stone magazine, various Springsteen reviews 1972-1981

So now that we’ve the mandatory Springsteen references out of the way, let’s get on with reviewing The Gaslight Anthems gig in The Academy. I first stumbled upon The Gaslight Anthem with the release of their album “The ‘59 Sound” and was surprised to learn that this was not a new band with a debut album. In fact, they had already been around for 2 and a half years with their debut album Sink or Swim under their belt. The success of this band is not unexpected. Combining old school clean-cut rock n' roll spiced with definite elements of hardcore, pop-punk, rockabilly & classic soul certainly gives them commercial appeal which is catching up with the (justly deserved) critical acclaim of The '59 Sound.

The night began with supporting musician Frank Turner, armed solely with his guitar and microphone. Do not be fooled by the sheared down, no-frills approach Turner takes to his music. His presence immediately impregnated the venue and he engaged the audience with his punk melodic laments telling of life's hardships.

The Gaslight Anthem kicked off their set with Great Expectations from The ‘59 Sound. Their simple songs of small-town, blue-collar America immediately brought to life with high energy and enthusiasm. Their own brand of crisp anthemic pop cloaked in precise yet fuzzy, ragged sound, primed to stomp through the venue, driven by hardcore punk and melodies. In particular leading man Brian Fallon, whose neck with veins like ropes plunging out in all directions, urgently delivers a tale of hopes and dreams. It is blatant that this band are passionate about their music. Every song off album The ‘59 Sound was featured in their set with a few choice tracks of Sink or Swim and their recent EP Senor and the Queen.

Being the first Irish gig The Gaslight Anthem have performed, they certainly were well received on this sell out night by their youthful adoring crowd, although some of the crowd seemed to only more than vaguely familiar with the singles. However this didn’t seem to deter the band, least of all Brian Fallon who spent much of the nights show with an incredulous smile on his face. Those who cannot hear farther than the lazy "Springsteen-clone" comparisons would have been surprised to witness them begin Senor and the Queen with their rendition of 'This Is A Man’s World', just one of tonight's ventures into classic American soul.

Towards the end of their set, Fallon pondered out loud about his working class New Jersey upbringing speaking of his hardworking Irish Father and Polish Mother with unmistakable pride before launching into Backseat where enthusiastic clapping engulfed the audience. An encore ensued featuring a song each from both albums and their EP, with the band further reveling in the American songbook through the brief charming snippet of Stand By Me which prefixed I’da Called You Woody, Joe. The highlights of this gig included Boomboxes and Dictionaries, The '59 Sound, The Old White Lincoln, Even Cowgirls get the Blues and The Backseat, all fantastic live performances. A dip in the tempo came with The Navesink Bank which certainly didn’t falter the audience.

A question of whether this band can in fact step out of the Springsteen shadow that has been cast over them to become a band in their own right is debatable. Their music perhaps lacks some particularly unique element. However, if you can stop yourself from staring at this band through Springsteen shaped glasses they are certainly one of the brightest around at the moment, and definitely worth a see.

Clare Shanahan

Franz Ferdinand (live in Limerick)

Tue, 03 Mar 2009 11:32:00 GMT

Franz Ferdinand (live in Dolan's Warehouse, Limerick)

Review Snapshot: 400 lucky ducks witness Franz Ferdinand 'warm up' for their '09 tour with considerable aplomb. Watch out Europe.

The Cluas Verdict? 8 out of 10

Full Review:
The anticipation amongst the lucky 400 in Dolan’s Warehouse ahead of this ‘warm-up’ gig was that the Glaswegian art-rockers would use this chance to rehearse material from their new Tonight album with one eye on their upcoming European tour. Not so. They played what seemed like every memorable moment from their already-classic debut album, kicking off the setlist with a stomping rendition of ‘Come On Home’. Alex Kapranos made sure he reminded the crowd where they were with frequent ‘Thank you Limerick’s between songs, but whether he was aware the Terry Wogan namedropped in ‘Dark of the Matinee’ is himself a Limerickman was unclear. However a spontaneous crowdsurf at the end of the gig did ensure Kapranos left Shannonside with an intimate knowledge of the city Wogan left behind!

Kapranos’ authentic vocal talent was a constant but what also impressed was his frenetic double-jobbing as lead guitarist, especially during ‘Do You Want To’. A banging ‘Take Me Out’ was played surprisingly early in the set, followed by a string of new songs (DISCLAIMER: I haven’t heard the new album yet. For shame.) Recent single Ulysses was warmly received by the crowd - a welcome endorsement for FF in these days of Kings Of Leon daytime-radio overkill. The encore comprised a subtle-then-manic delivery of their best-ever song Jacqueline, a surprisingly tasteful 4-man assault on the drumkit at the end of another newbie, and regular curtain-closer ‘Burn This City’.

Lasting Impact: The bulk of the tiny crowd remained subdued throughout – even for Take Me Out – which annoyed this reviewer given the rarity of gigs like this and the energy FF put in to their performance. In fairness, it was stadium-rock in a room the size of a small community hall - what more reason do you need to rock out? As for Franz themselves, here was a band that cared more about playing their favourite songs rather than pushing their new record, and the enjoyment of such was clear to see on their faces at the end of the gig. Having seen them play in Lansdowne Road 4 years ago, its great to think they still give me the same buzz. It was a privilege to be there. Keep the big guns coming, Dolans.

Ronan Lawlor

Carly Sings (live in Paris)

Mon, 23 Feb 2009 14:39:00 GMT

Carly Sings (live in La Bellevilloise, Paris)

Review Snapshot: Despite incessant audience noise and diabolical sound problems, which she really should just put aside, Carly Sings pulls out a strong performance of fine material - including some promising new songs.

The Cluas Verdict? 7 out of 10

Full Review:
Tonight’s venue, a trendy music bar in the slightly bohemian 20th district of Paris, is full of lively punters out for a good time. For Carly Sings, this is bad news indeed.

You see, La Bellevilloise is fashionable because its clientele like to hang out here and chat with friends while having live music in the background as sonic wallpaper. By the bar it’s standing room only, as packed and noisy as a Friday evening train station. The disinterested audience din is overwhelming, quite possibly the loudest we’ve ever heard at a concert.

More used to dedicated Dublin listeners, Carly Blackman is up against it tonight. You’d hardly call her loud, confrontational or in-your-face. Even before the show starts she already looks nervous – we reckon she has family and friends in the audience. Added to that, her live set-up (with Ben and Guillaume on guitar and bass/cello) is plagued by technical problems; at some moments the sound seems to have been mixed with a blender. While singing, Blackman glares up at where the back wall meets the ceiling, and you wonder how someone can sing so clearly through gritted teeth. This wouldn’t be a good time to go bothering her about anything.

Between songs, though, she relaxes and tries to make light of the night’s adversity. When she asks the crowd to stop talking, she’s half-joking – but only half-joking.

And yet, despite all this, Carly Sings puts on an enjoyable performance. Those tracks from ‘The Glove Thief’, her debut album, still sound beguiling. The musical mixture of pop, jazz, chanson française and bossa nova is rich and evocative, like a specially-blended tea from far-off lands. And her lyrics feature strong visual imagery that complement the sparse arrangements – in a room where it’s hard to be heard, such directness is all the more necessary and welcome. In particular, ‘George Emerson’ rises above the racket like a hot-air balloon.

One thing: for someone who’s spent a lot of time in Lyon and Paris, Blackman’s French isn’t great tonight. Apart from singing ‘L’Amour’, around halfway she gives up the between-song banter en français and continues in English. But she said she was tired. (Not that this is a language exam or anything. Just saying, like.)

Of more interest than her French level are her new songs. She closes the set with two: the folksy ‘No Good Girl’ and ‘Jason Rising’. Both are up to the high standard of her previous work and that bodes well for the second Carly Sings album, which should hopefully be released in September.

Difficult second album? It can’t be as hard on Blackman as this bloody concert!

Aidan Curran

Manic Street Preachers (live in Hong Kong)

Thu, 04 Dec 2008 11:29:00 GMT

Manic Street Preachers (live in Hong Kong)

Review Snapshot: Great show, but why didn't the avowed socialists come play Red China?

The Cluas Verdict? 9 out of 10

Full Review:
Opening with Motorcycle Emptiness, the Manics made the best of a bad turnout in Hong Kong to deliver a stash of their hits and a cover of Nirvana’s Penny Royal Tea. The new and the old, Autumn Song and Faster came early on, followed by that solid cover of Rihanna’s Umbrella, which has become a staple of their live set on this tour.

It’s strange that the supposedly socialist Manic Street Preachers came to Hong Kong, the most capitalistic piece of land in Asia, rather than north to Beijing? The Chinese capital’s gritty soul and priceless layers of bittersweet history and colourful characters reads like a Manics songbook. Maybe it's because they're scared of bumping into their old collaborator Kylie Minogue - she got a mention during the Hong Kong set - has been in these parts lately.

Or maybe it’s because, whatever their protestations, the Manics’ fanbase has now graduated, married and become the 30-something office jockey, a creature found in abundance in Hong Kong’s skyscrapers. Down in Kowloon Bay, the HiTech Star is a hall in a mall. I should’ve expected it but the Hong kong convention centre address is a bit misleading; cake shops, Cantonese cuisine and karaoke all abound in this place. Taking the elevator to the fifth floor for the balcony seats, I was shown inside with the usual Hong Kong friendly efficiency. That can be annoying: a security man politely kept us back from the glass barrier - not becuase it was dangerously crowded up there, but because we'd smudge the glass by getting too close. There were plenty of disinterested faces in the sparse balcony crowd, lots of quizzical locals who didn’t know the songs and were obviously along for a look.

It got better when I moved downstairs for Masses Against the Classes. A HK$50 (EUR5) pint of Carlsberg in hand I strolled up to the second barrier from the stage and watched the rest of the show with a local fan who appeared like he really wanted to look like Richey Edwards and complained at the end that the band didn’t play Kevin Carter.

The Manics trio is now buffeted by several travelling musicians, one of whom, introduced by James Dean Bradfield as “Mr London Irish Sean Reed" played some lovely saxophone on Ocean Spray. The acoustic playing of “Mr London Irish” number two, Wayne Murray, seemed a bit mechanical at times. Bradfield excused any propensity to falsetto on him having a cold, but all was forgiven when the frontman took the acoustic guitar himself for a heart-rending Black Flowers, introduced as “one of Richey Edward’s finest lyrics.”

Nicky Wire's comparatively conservative wardrobe for the night - a white suit - may have been chosen to fit the sterile surrounds. Real fans might have been thin on the ground, but everyone moved to Bradfield's "cerebral drinking song," Design for Life. Suit jacked slung over shoulder, the gwailos (local slang for foreigners) let a screech of recognition for Everything Must Go, introduced as “from the cool days of Britpop.” Raised beer tumbler in the air and neckties loosened, they were having a good time by the time the houselights went on, after a glorious Send Away the Tigers.

I went home happy I got great value for my HK$440 (EUR44) ticket and the airfare from Beijing. Next time I hope the Welsh communists will come up north to visit their lapsed brethern.

Mark Godfrey