This year’s Glastonbury Festival has done me proud. First the singing Pierce sisters prompted me
to listen to their current album and now Warpaint, the female foursome from the
west coast of the USA have done the same.
As a consequence of being beguiled by their set on the John Peel Stage I
immediately used up a bit of credit at iTunes and downloaded their album,
‘Fool’ and what a good decision that turned out to be.
In fact there is a strong feeling of Déja Vu at work here. I remember the first time I saw The Cure at
Hammersmith Odeon in 1980 just after the release of ‘Seventeen Seconds’ and was
mesmerised by their minimal gated drums and chiming chorused guitars. It was a studied architectural sound when all
around, the rest of the world was snarling and making as much punky noise as
possible. Listening to Warpaint gives me
that same sense of wonder 30 years on.
Their sound is very much rooted in the intricate gothic structures of
The Cure and Siouxsie and the Banshees only it is flecked with the sunny
disposition of California rather than dour new-town-ness and suburban
uniformity of Crawley and Bromley.
Interestingly, their setup of twin guitars/vocals, bass and
drums mirrors that of that other west coast female band, the Bangles yet their
sound couldn’t be more different. Don’t
you just love how rock can spawn such variety from the same roots? It’s what keeps us all interested after all
this time.
As suggested by their name, their music has a slightly tribal
quality that manifests itself as a trance-dance flow that draws you into its
unique ritual where you half expect virgins to be sacrificed at any
moment. There are no solos, just
intricate rhythms and carefully constructed guitar and bass figures underpinning
muted vocal harmonies. Lovely stuff when
you’re in the mood but perhaps a little frustrating when you’re not. Sometimes you just want to shake them out of
their carefully constructed cathedral and tell them to let go and lash up a
tent on the moors. Perhaps this will
come with maturity in the same way that ‘Love Cats’ followed ‘A Forest’ for Bob
and his mates.
Nevertheless, ‘Fool’ is a fine achievement for a debut album
and I shall be agog to see what happens next.
Here is ‘Undertow’ from their appearance on Jools Holland earlier this
year.
Yes it’s true; I’m a big Harry Potter fan. I read all the books as they appeared AND
didn’t opt for the ‘Adult’ covers so that people could snigger at me on the
tube. For heaven’s sake, a book’s a book
- how can a different cover make it an ‘adult’ version? I think the books are a great read. Not great literature but written by someone
who knows how to pay out a rattling good yarn from page one and that, for me,
is enough.
So when the films came out I was a little cautious as we all
know that a film never really represents the book it is based on. In fact I didn’t see any of the first five
films at the cinema but curled up with a glass of wine and the DVDs when they
became available. Generally they have
been well constructed but lacking in the sort of detail only a book can provide
as is only to be expected by the time constraint of a film.
However, for the final film, ‘Harry Potter and The Deathly
Hallows - Part 2’ I took my daughter, a fellow fan, to see it on the big screen
– and in 3D. It seemed only right that
the concluding film should be witnessed as intended on a huge screen with
deafening surround-sound. And I was
right. The 3D was good, (although
frankly, I could’ve lived without it) and the film was possibly the best of the
series. The popcorn seemed to have an
everlasting charm on it as no matter how much we ate there always seemed loads
more to go. But best of all was the
sound which was awesome. Clashing spells
had the impact of a nuclear bomb and the destruction of land and property
rumbled under our feet.
For once, I didn’t really miss the fine detail as the film
seemed to be very focussed upon drawing together JK Rowling’s rather disparate
plot strands into a final conclusion. In
fact it did a better job than the book in explaining the eventual
denouement. So hats off to the
Screenwriter and Director for a thoroughly memorable experience.
Nevertheless, I still am not wedded to the cinema for one
reason and one reason only. Why do
gaggles of schoolgirls find it necessary to whisper and giggle through the
entire film ruining all the poignant moments with their juvenile lack of
consideration for others. Must brush up
on my Cruciatus Curse ready for next time…on no! There isn’t one.
There are some artists that never really lodge themselves in
the consciousness of the great buying public and thus never appear on those
worthy ‘best of’ lists. However, before
I get too pompous about this, bear in mind that I am as guilty as the rest when
it comes to US singer/guitarist, Juliana Hatfield, yet an album that I return
to on an unnervingly frequent basis is her ‘Become What You Are’.
Originally the bass player with the Blake Babies in the
1980s, Juliana flirted with Evan Dando (in all senses of the word) and his
Lemonheads before issuing her first well-received solo album, ‘Hey Babe’ in
1992. But it was the follow up in 1993,
the magnificent ‘Become what You Are’ that gave her a deserved 15 minutes of
fame with frequent airplay of both singles culled from the set. Configured as a classic power trio with a
bass/drums rhythm section in addition to herself on guitar, she produced music
that is a joyous throwback to gutsy guitar rock with proper tunes and few
overdubs. Thankfully, it is also exceptionally
well recorded giving a ‘live’ feel which accentuates the looseness and
excitement of the material. How many
times have good albums been dragged down by indifferent production?
But the real draw to BWYA is the way that the music reflects
her own personality: a sort of child-woman with attitude. The whole album is a battleground where her
angst, given full rein in grungy guitars and pointed lyrics is constantly
tempered by quieter girlish moments of feminine vulnerability. These competing sides to her psyche were to
be laid bare in 2000’s double album ‘ Juliana’s Pony: Total System Failure’
where one whole album (Juliana’s Pony) would be given over to delicate acoustic
songs whilst the other (Total System Failure) would indulge in an orgy of
electronic white noise that even Sonic Youth would shy away from. Whilst this later album shows the separated extremes,
‘Become What You Are’ demonstrates what happens when the two are cleverly combined
and it is a magic that she has not quite managed since.
Juliana continues to release albums today and I feel a
little guilty that I have not investigated many of them. Somehow, BWYA has spoiled me and I don’t
anticipate that anything else she does will satisfy. Perhaps I’m wrong and in a way I hope I am,
but it doesn’t take away from BWYA – an album to which I will always return.
If there is one thing that is guaranteed to make me perk up my jaded ears and sit up and listen, it is a dose of classic harmony singing – think Everly Brothers, Beach Boys or even The Bangles. So when I was wading through the hours of Glastonbury footage and came across The Pierces, I was more than happy to pay attention.
It turns out that The Pierces are an ex-Alabama, now New York based sister act, Catherine and Alison Pierce, who have been around for some ten years yet only seem to be hitting the UK now with their fourth album, ‘You & I’, co-produced by none other than the Coldplay team of Rik Simpson and bassist, Guy Berryman. Their brand of upbeat retro-Californian pop is almost irresistible in these times of austerity. Once you have added their song writing ability that brings together elements of The Mamas and Papas, Stevie Nicks era Fleetwood Mac, early Jefferson Airplane and strangely, Crowded House when both Finn brothers were both on board, to their sibling voices, you have a very marketable package indeed.
Having downloaded ‘You & I’ I am now wallowing in some of the best harmony singing I’ve heard for some time. I gather that their previous albums have been a little quirky and that this is their tilt at the big time, hence it does come across as very polished 70s style AOR which I’d have thought was a little out of fashion at the moment but notwithstanding the production, this is quality stuff. The song writing is solid with the up-tempo stuff sounding a little better than the ballads which are a touch staid but the overall effect is very listenable. However, if their inspiration truly is the sunny Californian pop of the Mamas and Papas, they ought to be a bit more careful how they disguise it as ‘Kissing You Goodbye’ is so close to ‘California Dreaming’ that if anyone associated with John Phillips’ estate gets to hear it there may well be Lawyers at dawn.
But accusations of plagiarism aside, there is something magical about sibling harmonies that just sets the hairs on my neck going. It’s the closeness of those genes that makes everything so beautifully seamless yet just different enough to set them apart in the mix. Someone should devote part of a book to this phenomenon…wait a minute, someone has – it was me. Singing is food to the soul as church-goers past and present have discovered, as have those who now cram the halls of England to attend ‘Rock Choir’ events. And harmony singing is the next step to heaven. Those that can do it well, especially when singing live have my undying attention.
Here is the video that started me out on this trail of discovery – The Pierces at Glastonbury doing a live acoustic spot for the BBC and making their hit ‘Glorious’ sound well, glorious. If the harmonies at about 1:40 don’t make you go weak at the knees, you have no soul.
This year the Glastonbury Festival marks its fortieth anniversary, the first (then free) festival taking place on a cobbled together tubular steel and wooden plank stage in 1971. In order to celebrate the fact, a ‘Spirit of ‘71’ stage was included this year where many of those who performed in 1971 returned to the scene of their crimes to perform to nostalgic on-lookers. To see the likes of Melanie and Edgar Broughton belting out old familiar numbers even gave hardened old cynic me a misty eye.
The Hippy roots of Glastonbury continue to pervade the Festival to this day and there is no doubt that the festival spirit affects both performers and audience alike. Major beneficiaries this year were undoubtedly Elbow whose connection with the huge crowd was quite mesmeric. But they weren’t the only ones and it is one reason why I love this Festival – for three days, the world seems at peace.
But enough of this new-agey stuff, on to the Music Obsessive Awards which this year were very tricky to pitch given the huge and generally enjoyable line-ups on virtually every stage. However, a decision has been made.
In third place comes the old crooner himself, Morrissey who played as the warm up act to the all-conquering Coldplay on the Saturday evening. Despite the fact that he is clearly middle-aged these days and the old joints are not what they were, and the fact that the set went a bit flat in places, I thoroughly enjoyed his mix of solo stuff and old Smiths songs. It served as a timely reminder of what a way the man has with words. The mixture of kitchen sink, no holds barred truths and wry black humour has never really been matched by anybody writing since and to hear the likes of ‘I Want the One I Can’t Have’ and ‘This Charming Man’ again was a real pleasure. All together now;
‘I would go out tonight
But I haven’t got a stitch to WE-AR….’
In second place is Beyoncé. Yes, I know. Before the Festival started, I would have laughed in your face if you’d told me I was going to type those words, but it has happened. Despite not really knowing much about her music, I was vastly entertained by her Sunday headline set and I was entertained because she didn’t fall into the trap so many of her mega-star ( and I have to say American – sorry guys) peers fall into and kept it simple. No constant costume changes, no huge sets, no complicated Busby-Berkeley dance routines – a bit of glitz, sure, but just music. Glastonbury is all about music and the connection between the performer and the audience and Beyoncé seemed to understand this. The mix of songs was spot on, drawing on all her influences from funk to ballad, from R&B to soul. Glastonbury is not a place to plug your new album, it’s a place to display your best stuff and to convince people who are not necessarily your fans that you have worth and for me she did just that. Once again Glastonbury wove its magic and you could see the emotion, especially during final song ‘Halo’ where she had to stop to catch her breath. Beyoncé, you have a new fan.
And so to my Number One Act. They played two sets; one on the Park stage on Friday and one on the John Peel Stage on Saturday afternoon and they are the all-female foursome from Los Angeles – Warpaint. Warpaint is such a clever name for starters, combining the slang for makeup, thus underlining their gender, with the more tribal connotations of warfare. Their music could also be described as ‘tribal’ being a cross between 1982 Cure/Siouxsie gothic and 1992 Cocteau Twins. It has a peculiar quality of being quite mesmerising without seeming to go anywhere in particular. Somehow, it doesn’t really matter as the heavily chorused guitars chime over intricate bass patterns and complex drumming and you are drawn in forever. Their live vocals could do with beefing up a bit as they don’t quite match the studio versions I now have in my possession on their debut album, ‘Fool’ but otherwise they were beautifully understated, yet wonderful and worthy winners this year.
But that is not really the end of it. Special mentions must also go to The Horrors, Kool and the Gang, Rumer, Hurts and Elbow and a very special mention must go to Jessie J who played her set with a broken foot and provided us with a magic moment. It occurred when she asked for a member of the audience to help her with ‘Price Tag’ and we old cynics cringed. But it turned out to be nothing like the toe-curling moment we expected and a gobsmacked Jessie didn’t quite get what she expected. It put a smile on my face for hours afterwards. Magical.
Well, you have to hand it to the BBC, they always do a wizard job of covering the Glastonbury Festival and this year was no exception. The only problem for goggle-eyed TV viewers like me is finding the time to watch over 24 hours of footage, either live or recorded. It is becoming a bit of a marathon involving a sagging couch and several crates of beer.
Nevertheless, this year’s event was well up to standard and remains the Festival that all Festivals should aspire to. Despite the enormous amount of airtime set aside on up to three BBC channels (plus the red button), the ever growing size of the goings-on is beginning to defeat even the wily TV editors and the viewing experience is becoming one of not so much what you do see, but what you don’t.
This year the number of stages and line-ups over the three days was so huge that I was left feeling a bit frustrated by the fact that some of the smaller bands I wanted to see were not covered. Of course, the answer is to attend the thing myself, but as BBC presenter Jo Wiley put it so succinctly, ‘Why brave the mud, when we can do it for you?’ Having said all that, the atmosphere was like a well-used comfort blanket and for a weekend, music did what it should and provided a considerable amount of emotional pleasure.
The 2011 extravaganza was thus for me, one of undoubted enjoyment but tinged with a sense of loss. I have no real attachment to any of the three headliners, U2 (it rained heavily on them on the Friday evening - so there is a God), Coldplay (OK, but they didn't play 'Speed of Sound' - my only real must-have Coldplay track) and Beyoncé (more of her later) so this year I became more attuned to some of those lesser names further down the playing order. Many were very good indeed and some will feature in my top three acts which will be revealed, as has now become a MO tradition, in my next post, but there were names that never saw a TV camera.
Of those that were given airtime my particular favourites included the astounding vocals of Hurts, the neo-prog of Everything Everything, the wild Aussie rock (circa 1969) of sister-band Stonefield, the quite outstandingly good harmonies of The Pierces (I’m sure John Phillips was smiling down at their Mamas and Papas meets the Jefferson Airplane song, ‘Glorious’) and Jessie J complete with broken foot.
Sadly, top of my list of non-shows was the Swedish female quintet, Those Dancing Days, which was first introduced to me by fellow blogger, Zee, and whose last few singles I have enjoyed enormously. Their raw energy and slightly ragged playing style puts me in mind of bands like The Slits and the Raincoats, but they have a classic Swedish ambience all of their own. Apparently, their set on the Park stage on the Saturday was beset by technical problems so perhaps it was best they remained anonymous this once. However, in order to balance out the fact that they got no airtime, here is their latest poptastic single, ‘Can’t Find Entrance’.
