The Ledge On the Edge

The Indie Credential

2005-08-09T18:49:00.000+01:00

The Ledge On The Edge is no more. It was only really an exercise in remembering all the gigs I've been to from 2005 onwards. I'm now hanging out at The Indie Credential with JustHipper (aka Mrs. Ledge) where there's live reviews, cd reviews, comments, pictures and, hopefully one day, mp3s.

The Go-Betweens, Liverpool Academy, 10th May 2005

2005-05-18T00:04:00.000+01:00

That The Go-Betweens are playing such a small venue tonight is a travesty of epic proportions. That the venue is only half full is beyond belief. I need a reality check. It’s 2005, nineteen years since I first saw the band play at the Leeds Warehouse in front of a slightly larger crowd - they weren't exactly selling out the Apollo during their Eighties heyday.

Openers Songdog look just days away from drawing their pensions. They play to about 10 people, but look like they’re used to it. Theirs is a brand of acoustic Americana favoured by the likes of Uncut magazine. The singer stands hunched over the mic, strumming his acoustic, singing plaintive accounts of past loves, murder, the usual country fare. At least one line in every song implicates him in some form of sexual act, which is not something you’d want to imagine; kind of like thinking about your grandparents going at it. Ugh. His two sidekicks in the meantime, well, don’t really do that much at all: the odd drum flourish here, the occasional guitar lick there, but most of the time they just sit and watch with the rest of us. The restraint is admirable, but borders on plain bone idleness.

One big advantage of small, half-full venues such as this is that you can get right to the front to view your heroes at close quarters. Grant McLennan bounces onto the stage looking slimmer and healthier than I've seen him in a long time. In contrast, Robert Forster looks much less dapper than usual, his suit crumpled and faded, his shoes badly in need of repair. They begin with a track each from their three "comeback" albums all of which serve to reinforce the belief that theirs was one of the more worthwhile comebacks of recent times.

Such is the strength of the Go-B's back catalogue that they can't go wrong tonight. Few bands can even dream of writing songs of the calibre of "To Reach Me", "Cattle And Cane" and "Streets Of Your Town" but tonight we get them in quick succession much to the delight of the fervent crowd. New songs "Here Comes A City" and "Darlinghurst Nights" get rapturous receptions, the former one of very few Go-Betweens songs that wears an influence on its sleeve; in this case Talking Heads' "Life During Wartime". It's brilliant all the same.

With rhythm section Adele Pickvance and Glenn Thompson providing excellent backing Forster and McLennan go from strength to strength, but, great as they sound, I can't help thinking back to that Eighties heyday with Amanda Brown, Lindy Morrisson and Robert Vickers when the band could really hit the heights. What's lacking from this current incarnation is a multi-instrumentalist of the calibre of Amanda Brown - "Bye Bye Pride" just isn't the same without her clarinet weaving in and out of the mix.

Anyway, in the two encores we get superb acoustic renditions of "The Devil's Eye" and "Part Company" and matters are brought to a close with "Bye Bye Pride" and "Dive For Your Memory", four more stonewall classics from yesteryear. The crowd make their way home positively buzzing. And to think they didn't even play "Head Full Of Steam", "Twin Layers Of Lightening", "Five Words", "Spirit Of A Vampyre", "The Clarke Sisters".....

The Futureheads, Manchester Academy, 9th May 2005

2005-05-18T00:03:00.000+01:00

There's something strange going on tonight. We enter the venue towards the end of the opening band's set and hear screams, the scream of the Busted fan returned. I can't remember the name of the band but the one song I heard was shit, and dumb enough to be appreciated by the owners of the prepubescent wails. Maybe they had appeared on Saturday morning TV and were hotly tipped to be the next disposable icons of kiddie rock.

But no, the kids are still wailing during the interval before the arrival of the Mystery Jets. And they're wailing at the Mystery Jets as they set up their own gear. Given this, it's a surprise to find that the Mystery Jets play a fairly lumpen prog rock, are ugly as fuck and that their guitarist is old enough to be the father of the rest of them, and the grandaddy of the screamers. Not the ingredients for the new darlings of the kiddie rock scene, you'd have thought, and the band do, quite shamelessly, seem overawed by the adolescent attention.

So it's The Futureheads the kids have latched onto after the demise of Busted. Why they've fallen for four ordinary looking Sunderland lads with a penchant for loud new wave art rock I don't know; The Kaiser Chiefs with their wacky antics and straight-laced pop tunes would have been a more suitable choice. Anyway, at least us grown-ups in the audience are joining in now, drowning out the squeals for the most part as The Futureheads' opening blast of "Decent Days and Nights" followed closely by "The City Is Here For You To Use" goes down a storm. It's loud, energetic and pretty much what I'd expect from the band as they make their way through their eponymous album with the occasional b-side and cover thrown in for good measure. There's also a new track called "Areas" which indicates that there's gonna be no great advancement in the 'heads' sound on the difficult second album.

Between songs they engage the crowd in a witty Wearside banter which soon becomes a witty but wearisome banter as it occurs between every single song, without fail. This slows the gig down and stops the band from getting any sort of momentum going, which is disappointing, although Ross, Barry and Jaff are all rather engaging in their on-stage musings. Drummer Dave says very little.

Highlights include "Robot", "Stupid And Shallow" and their excellent cover of Kate Bush's "Hounds Of Love" during which the crowd are invited to sing the oh-uh-oh parts. The encore includes a superb reading of "Danger Of The Water" ("our only slow song," they admit) as well as an electrifying "Le Garage" and proceedings are rounded off by an exhuberant half-cover of Neil Young's "Piece Of Crap" which, with its revamped verses, sounds as far from the original as their version of "Hounds of Love".

Everyone, kids and grown-ups alike, goes home happy, ears ringing. The Futureheads are a classy live act who could do with cutting down on the inter-song banter and just basically getting on with it to allow the natural energy of their songs to really thrive.

The Arcade Fire, Manchester Academy, 4th May 2005

2005-05-06T23:37:00.000+01:00

The most hotly anticipated gig of the year so far has been upgraded to the Academy from the Hop And Grape, a remarkable feat for a band that few people on this side of the Atlantic had heard of before the start of the year.

First up is Final Fantasy, AKA Owen Pallett, an unassuming young Canadian playing his first gig outside of North America (as Final Fantasy at least: he's also a member of The Hidden Cameras) and playing to a larger crowd than he is accustomed to.

Armed only with a violin, he gradually builds a backing track by playing individual phrases and looping them to create the effect of a string quartet backing him to which he then sings and plays along. It sounds amazing as the loops build and build with Pallett plucking, scraping and hammering at his instrument with great skill to create surprisingly rich and complex textures. The songs are pretty good too and just when I'm starting to think he's got a bit of a Joanna Newsom thing going on he goes and plays an excellent cover of Newsom's "Peach, Plum, Pear". He even rocks out a bit towards the end, barking into his violin pick-up to weave his voice into the loop. It's an enthralling performance and the crowd are very appreciative.

The Arcade Fire don't disappoint. From the opening "Wake Up" through to the beautiful closing rendition of "In The Backseat" they thrill the crowd with a performance of power, precision, energy, stagediving and robotic dancing. "Wake Up" and "Neighbourhood #2 (Laika)" get things off to an exhilirating start with geeky multi-instrumentalist Richard Parry beating shit out of anything that gets in his way in the name of percussion during the latter. Instruments are swapped between (and during) songs as the band keep up the momentum, making their way through their Funeral album and adding a couple of cuts from their earlier EP. Regine Chassagne in particular seems to be able to turn her hand to anything, playing keyboards and accordian, providing excellent backing and lead vocals and even getting behind the drumkit for a couple of numbers towards the end.

They reach full throttle with "Neighbourhood #3 (Power Out)" followed by "Rebellion(Lies)" during which the stage is positively swimming with energy. There is an intensity in these songs that is only hinted at on Funeral; when Win Butler sings "sleeping is giving in" on "Rebellion" you know he's talking the truth. It eventually gets too much for him on stage and he dives headfirst into the transfixed throng in front of him. When he's returned too quickly for his own liking, he does it again.

The encore brings an excellent cover of Talking Heads' "This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody)" with Chassagne on steel drums this time, and ends with "In The Backseat" during which she seems close to breaking. Butler exits stage front again, this time clutching a bass guitar. The crowd don't give him back this time and that's the last I see of him. When the rest of the band leave the stage the stunned audience is left singing the final song's refrain over and over and over.

Hot Hot Heat, Manchester Ritz, 28th April 2005

2005-04-29T23:52:00.000+01:00

Expectations were low for this one. And with good reason, as it turned out.

The Fever got us off to a bad start with their forgettable brand of dancey garage rock. I didn't suspect that things could get much worse, but they did. The Departure dress predominantly in black, save for the neckerchiefs (more of which later), and peddle an increasingly familiar brand of glum, early 80's influenced indie rock (cf. the much more impressive Editors). It's depressing stuff but for all the wrong reasons. The songs are dull, passionless, redundant homages to the likes of Suede, Echo And The Bunnymen, U2 and Interpol (the bass player even wears braces à la Carlos D). The singer is as uncharismatic and unconvincing as any I've seen for a long time. They make The Bravery look like The Arcade Fire.

And what's the thing with neckerchiefs these days? Dogs, Razorlight, Libertines and now this: the singer's is a blue and white polka dot affair which hangs from his back pocket like a big hankie and which he eventually takes out and wraps around his microphone as if wiping off fingerprints before the taste police arrive to charge him with crimes against indie. The frankly scary-looking guitarist sports a red and white number which part obscures his newly bought, I'm-down-with-you-Mancs, "Queen Is Dead" t-shirt. In short, they look really fuckin stupid.

Anyway, Hot Hot Heat are up next. Surely things will get better? Thus far this band has managed to pass below my radar. I know they're from Canada, a hotbed of new indie talent; I've heard "Bandages" but not listened intently enough to form an opinion of it; and Mrs Ledge once said that they sounded a bit like The Cure. They start off ok with the lead singer a manic presence behind his keyboards and the rest of the band letting him get on with it, reluctant to display the sort energy that their high energy songs suggest they should. About four songs in they reach their peak with "Ladies And Gentlemen" from their new album Elevator but from then on it's downhill all the way. There's no let up in tempo and the singer's yelping/whining voice begins to grate and annoy (the fact that he looks like John Power from the excruciatingly awful Cast doesn't help matters). Each song becomes indistinguishable from the last. I get really bored. "Bandages" is played at the end. I listen intently. It's crap. The encore is mercifully brief. I never want to see any of these bands again. Ever.

Bloc Party, Manchester Academy, 17th April 2005

2005-04-17T22:41:00.000+01:00

Tonight we get there on time cos it's Pretty Girls Make Graves supporting and they've been pretty great the two times we saw 'em last year, at the Hop And Grape on Valentine's Day and at the Leeds Festival. They take a while to get going tonight; a muted version of "This Is Our Emergency" is depatched early on and it's not until they play a couple of excellent new songs mid-set that they start hitting their stride. The closing "Speakers Push The Air" is more like it, with lead singer Andrea Zollo really going for it and clearly having a whale of a time. Then they're gone.

Bloc Party start things off with the pounding "Like Eating Glass" and then launch into the magnificent "Positive Tension". It's a great start and the crowd lap it up. The band look relaxed and happy, like they're taking this fame thing in their stride, Kele especially is far more at ease with the crowd than when we saw him at the Night And Day back in October last year.

Muddled versions of "This Modern Love" and "Blue Light" bring us all back down to earth. They seem to struggle with the quieter numbers, trying to beef them up instead of staying true to the recorded versions, and end up throwing too much into the pot, leaving a big gooey mess.

No worries. Right after the disappointment of "Blue Light" we get the double whammy of "Banquet" and "Helicopter", the evening's undisputed highlights. Surf's up as the moshpit swells, depositing young thrill-seekers into the eager arms of the security at stage front.

An excellent rendition of "Pioneers" rounds off the main set just nine songs in but they're back on a couple of minutes later to give us "So Here We Are" and show us that they can do the quiet ones when they put their minds to it. "Price Of Gas" follows and Kele's call of "we're gonna win this" gets the crowd going again. "Tulips" is magnificent - another highlight - and "The Answer" rounds things off to a very satisfactory conclusion.

Joanna Newsom, Manchester Academy 2, 14th April 2005

2005-04-15T17:10:00.000+01:00

Parking is the main problem tonight. With all three Academy venues hosting gigs I finally find a space at the dodgy end of Denmark Road. I get to walk past the sad Terrorvision fans filing into The Academy, and past the touts outside trying to offload tickets for a fiver. The only hot ticket in town tonight is for Joanna Newsom at the Academy 2. While I'm parking, Mrs Ledge queues for tickets to future gigs in the union foyer and spots Johnny Marr making his way upstairs to watch Six Organs of Admittance - tonight's main support.

The gig had been advertised as "partially seated" which makes sense given the nature of the musical fare on offer. However, on entering the hall there isn't a chair in sight and the place is packed already. The promoters obviously bowed to an extraordinary demand for tickets and scrapped that idea. Not only is the hall packed, but it's packed with extremely tall people. Joanna Newsom has got the tallest following of any artist I've ever seen. The area at the front of the stage is almost exclusively a male preserve; tall men, young and old, awaiting the arrival of their elfin goddess. Mrs L, who was looking forward to sitting with a decent view of the action, is now resigned to another two hours of staring at some tall guy's back.

Yet again we miss the first band. In the last three gigs we've missed The Black, half of The Magic Numbers and now White Magic. Spooky. Six Organs of Admittance are from California and play lo-fi folk. It's a shaky start as the first song grates with annoying distorted vocals from the female singer as she tinkles away on her keyboard accompanied by the occasional tambourine flourish from Six Organs' protagonist, Ben Chasny. As the song progresses, however, its repeated verse becomes, at first, tolerable and then essential. I miss it when its gone. After a forgettable second song the duo take up their acoustic guitars for the rest of the set. In keeping with the lo-fi ethic the guitars are wildly out of tune and attempts to tune up between songs are perfunctory to say the least. The resulting discord lends a ramshackle charm to the songs, though I seem to be one of only a few among the chattering throng who recognises this.

Joanna Newsom enters to rapturous applause, strides purposefully to the front of the stage and proceeds to belt out "Yarn And Glue" at the top of her voice; unaccompanied and unamplified. Its a brave opening gambit and works a treat. The crowd fall silent, straining to hear. Joanna begins to clap along like an excited schoolgirl. The audience does the same, completely drowning out the rest of the song.

Joanna then takes to her harp and the remainder of the performance is played out to a hushed, reverential audience who erupt into prolonged applause at the end of each song. The Harp is black and imposing and about as cool looking as a harp can get. She plays with incredible skill and precision, her fingers coated with superglue to protect from the rigours of the tour.

She plays most of the Milk-Eyed Mender album and it sounds amazing, her harp and voice coming across the PA as clear as a bell. She's joined occasionally by a flautist but sounds so compelling unaccompanied that I barely notice. Highlights are "Bridges And Balloons", "Cassiopeia", "Sadie", "Book Of Right-On", "Peach, Plum, Pear", "En Gallop", "Swansea", hell, the whole thing's the highlight. Except for "Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie" which finishes the main set and is the highlight of the highlights; a remarkable song from a remarkable talent. She's not for everyone, though, and by the time the encore of the stunning "The Sprout And The Bean" comes around the crowd has thinned a little, though not shrunk- the tall people remain enamoured. And in the way. Bridgewater Hall or The Lowry next time, please.

Trying to be like the other blogs..

2005-04-12T22:29:00.000+01:00

The excellent Stylus Magazine has a feature on the history of Flying Nun records and the "Dunedin Sound".

Also from Stylus:

A brilliant review of The Others' album. The Others are quite possibly the worst "indie" band in the history of the universe. Did I say "possibly"? I meant "definitely".

A not so brilliant review of Slint at the Theater Of The Living Arts in Philidelphia in which the following sentence is about as linear as it gets:

"When Slint took the stage and the commercial transubstantiation took place, a post-coital acquiescence swept over the crowd. Beneath the veneer of calculated austerity, the once boisterous audience applauded, brimming with expectation..."

The Top 10 of the Greatest Songs Ever

2005-04-09T00:57:00.000+01:00

Following on from the Doves review...

...in case you were wondering...

...in no particular order...

Cedar Room - Doves
Teenage Riot - Sonic Youth
Pink Frost - The Chills
Grace Cathedral Park - Red House Painters
You Made Me Realise - My Bloody Valentine
Bone Machine - Pixies
I See A Darkness - Bonnie Prince Billy
River Guard - Smog
River Man - Nick Drake
Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want - The Smiths
Pictures Of You - The Cure
Carry Me Ohio - Sun Kil Moon
Slide Away - Oasis
Twin Layers Of Lightning - The Go-Betweens
London Calling - The Clash
Down In The Tubestation At Midnight - The Jam
Now My Heart Is Full - Morrissey
New Slang - The Shins
Venus De Milo - Television
Hey That's No Way To Say Goodbye - Leonard Cohen
Alex Chilton - The Replacements

Let me know if I left anything out.

Doves, Manchester Apollo, 6th April 2005

2005-04-07T18:17:00.000+01:00

I wasn't particularly looking forward to this one. Doves new album, Some Cities, is a completely underwhelming listen, lacking the ambition and inspiration of their previous efforts. Sometimes hearing such an album played live can result in an epiphany, a realisation that you just didn't get it first time round and that you should go back and listen to it properly. I was hoping that this would happen tonight. It didn't.

Delayed by a swift pint in The Union and the mother of all hailstorms, we arrive, Mrs Ledge and I, somewhere in the middle of The Magic Numbers' set. A strange looking bunch, lots of hair, almost as old as most of the crowd, bass player is Corrie's Angela Harris escaped from prison, definitely a west coast Mamas and Papas thing going on here even though they're from Ealing (via Trinidad). The music has a west coast americana vibe that will have Uncut journalists coming in their pants (but still they'll put The Rolling Stones on the cover again). It all sounds great to start with but the songs seem to go on forever and the audience quickly lose their patience, filling the venue with a level of chatter which threatens to drown the band out. The occasional song shines through such as the single "Hymn To Her" which sounds excellent, but I'd much prefer to see them in a more intimate venue with a more appreciative audience.

Doves get the crowd on their side from the off with the opening trio of "Pounding", "Words" and "Black And White Town" immediately making my trip worthwhile. "Pounding" is especially good, reminding me of what Doves were all about before they went all dour on us with Some Cities. As expected, things do sag during the Some Cities numbers. "Almost Forgot Myself" barely registers and triggers an annoying increase in audience babble and trips to the bar. Ditto "Ambition". These are only minor blips, however. "Sea Song", "Caught By The River" and "The Last Broadcast" all bring the audience back onside, with Jimi Goodwin in fine voice (he gets a bit of stick in some reviews but his voice has a great down-to-earth quality which suits the material) and clearly enjoying playing his home town again after a long time away. Of the older stuff only "New York" outstays its welcome (it was never one of my favourites) and prompts yet more trips to the bar, more people pushing their way through the crowd carrying huge amounts of beer and pissing off everyone who actually wants to watch the gig. Standing next to me in the latter stages is Magic Numbers singer Romeo who nurses a beer in each hand and nods along enthusiastically. I'll forgive him his trip to the bar as he can watch the band every night of the tour. And he was quite polite when pushing past.

The real reason I'm here closes the main set. "The Cedar Room" is in my Top 10 of the Greatest Songs Ever and has, in my opinion, the greatest chorus known to Man. Mrs Ledge claims that my Top 10 of the Greatest Songs Ever contains about 100 songs, and maybe it does, but "The Cedar Room" would definitely be in the Top 10 of those 100. If that makes sense. Anyway, tonight it's awesome, as usual, and I holler along with Jimi, the hairs on the back of my neck standing to attention.

The excellent "Here It Comes" kicks off the encores and is followed by "Satellites" and the inevitable, but much appreciated, "There Goes The Fear". It should end there and then but they play the Sub Sub track "Space Face" which puts a dampener on things - I was never into the Hacienda rave scene and so it's of no relevance to me, though it is to the E'd up 30-somethings who greet it like it's in their Top 10. Oh well.

So, no reprieve for Some Cities, and Doves will have to raise their game next time around if they don't want to spend the rest of their careers trading on the excellence of their first two albums.

And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead, Manchester Academy 2, 19th Mar 2005

2005-03-22T00:01:00.000Z

As is customary nowadays, we miss the first band, The Black, and we quite enjoy the main support Division of Laura Lee, a no frills rock band from Gothenburg. It's a slow start with the lead singer, an unfortunate cross between Daniel Beddingfield and Shrek, spending the length of the first song trying to get his guitar to work, but they quickly make up for it with a set which is loud, energetic and features some decent rock songs with great choruses. Good preparation for And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead then, no?

No. There is no way you can prepare yourself for what occurs in the next hour and a half. They take the stage to the strains of "Ode To Isis" (which sounds far more potent and ominous as intro music for this gig than it does as the intro to Worlds Apart) and launch into a furious version of that album's opener "Will You Smile Again?". It's loud, very loud; an aural assault a million miles from the relatively restrained album version. And it's a blessed relief. Yeah, I like the album; it got mixed reviews but it's choc-a-bloc with great songs (title track excepted), it's just that the production is a bit too clean-cut and, dare I say, mainstream and therefore lacks the thrust and energy of Source Tags & Codes or Madonna. The two old live tracks tagged onto the end are like gatecrashers at a dinner party and are effectively a misguided concession to the band's hardcore fanbase - "yeah, the album doesn't rock that much but check this out". The band and record company have got a lot to answer for on that one.

Anyway, tonight the songs from Worlds Apart are pummelled to within an inch of their lives as Trail of Dead stir up a veritable shitstorm of noise and energy which rarely lets up throughout. "The Rest Will Follow", "Classic Arts Showcase" and "The Best" are all given the treatment and are better for it. Best of all is "Caterwaul" which does exactly what it says on the tin and features some excellent backing vocals from the increasingly Coxon-esque Kevin Allen. Elsewhere, the tried and trusted staples of the Trail of Dead live experience are dragged kicking and screaming before us. "It Was There That I Saw You" is an early highlight with the ebb and flow of Conrad Keeley's hollered verses and Kevin Allen's sublime guitar work really hitting the mark. "Totally Natural" and "A Perfect Teenhood" are riotous crowd-pleasers with Keeley at his manic, electric best. When Jason Reece takes the stage things go into overdrive; the guy is seriously demonic and during "Caterwaul" and "Aged Dolls" you can't take your eyes off the frenzy being kicked up on stage.

If energy levels drop a little towards the end then the encore makes up for it with scintillating versions of "Mistakes And Regrets" and "Richter Scale Madness". Stage invaders are personally ejected back into the throng by Mr. Reece with great force. The ritual destruction of instruments at the end is the night's only disappointment with Reece practically disassembling his drum kit as if he was doing the roadies a favour.

Still, a great night. Trail Of Dead are one of the great live rock acts of our time and should never be underestimated, whatever the merits of their recorded output.

The Raveonettes, Manchester Hop & Grape, 13th Mar 2005

2005-03-18T19:05:00.000Z

This tour is sponsored by Jim Beam. I'm not sure why but I'm not complaining as we each get a voucher for a free glass of Jim Beam with either Coke or ginger ale in exchange for our tickets at the door. I settle of the Coke option as the bar doesn't seem to stock ginger ale. A marketing oversight perhaps, made up for by the fact that if you leave the venue to go to the loo at any point you get a ticket back to allow you re-entry AND another free voucher for a glass of Jim Beam and Coke when you return. A cheap night, then.

A lack of research means that we miss most of The Boxer Rebellion, a band who Mrs Ledge wanted to see. There were, we thought, four bands on the bill. However, The Queens of Noize are not the pisspoor girlie metal band to avoid that we had them down for but are, instead, a couple of girls DJing for the evening. And they are pisspoor, also. They play some good stuff but there are gaps between records that you could drive a tank through and their copy of Squeeze's Cool For Cats is so scratched that it lasts about 30 seconds start to finish. And yet they let it play. Amateurs*. And they're selling fucking T-shirts!

*I later learn from their website that this is how it's supposed to be and that they've got loads of celebrity friends like Courtney Love and The Libertines just 'cos they're a bit shit at DJing and it's all a bit ironic. Now I just feel stupid. Duh.

Anyway, we catch the last two songs of the unremarkable Boxer Rebellion (a bit like The Verve, says Mrs L.) and next up are Dogs (another terrible band name - try Googling that in Crufts week) who I've never heard of and who, as soon becomes apparent, are another bunch of post-Libertines chancers from London. They're certainly better than the likes of Razorlight and The Others (not difficult), and their sound often harks back to the post-punk days of the late 70's, to Sham 69 and The Boomtown Rats, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. Except for the Sham 69 bit.

I've never been a fan of the indie garage rock scene and have a particular dislike for Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and The Jesus and Mary Chain so I've not really been looking forward to this gig. Mrs Ledge likes The Raveonettes, however, and sometimes acquiescence is the safest option.

They open with "Somewhere In Texas" from their forthcoming Pretty In Black album and it's excellent, a thumping dark country blues number which reminds me of early Green On Red. Unfortunately it's as good as things get. The best stuff seems to be the new stuff and suggests that Pretty In Black will be a more varied package than their previous releases and might well be worth a listen. Two tracks in particular sounded very 60's pop, I think one may have been a Motown cover and the other was very close to the Everly Brothers' All I Have To Do Is Dream. Frontwoman Sharin Foo, however, is watchable throughout with her striking looks, excellent vocals and sexy Gretsch semi-acoustic. Bandmate Sune is far less imposing, having all the presence of the wisp of hair on his upper lip which he's trying to pass off as a moustache. And a particularly poor haircut. The fans love it, though, and I suppose that's what counts in the end.

I leave slightly disappointed, slightly drunk, but slighly intrigued as to what the new album sounds like.

Engineers + Clor, Manchester Night & Day, 9th Mar 2005

2005-03-11T17:18:00.001Z

I don't usually give support bands a nod in my blog headers but Clor get there by virtue of the fact that they blew the headliners off the stage at the Night & Day on Wednesday night. We'd missed the openers Pellumair and arrived shortly after Clor had started. My initial thoughts were that they had a bit of the Bloc Party/Franz Ferdinand NewWaveOfBritArtRock vibe about them as the first song had a twitchy guitar thing going, reminiscent of early Talking Heads or Wire. These thoughts were quickly vaporised by the rest of the set which veered from prog rock to death metal to electropop to soul, sometimes all in the same song, but Clor have a pop sensibility akin to Guided By Voices that ensured that things didn't get out of hand. And it was thrilling, energising stuff; the proggy bits owed a small debt to Pavement and Steve Malkmus's solo stuff, there were shades of the Pixies in the metally stuff and one song ("Magic Touch", I think) reminided of Midnite Vultures-era Beck. I haven't seen a band so wilfully all over the place since The Fiery Furnaces supported Franz Ferdinand at The Academy last year and I look forward to hearing more from them in the future.

We got tickets for this gig after hearing Engineers described as "nu-gazer". I have some fond memories of the shoegazing scene of the early '90s when bands like Ride, Pale Saints and the peerless My Bloody Valentine sang sweet, doleful songs under a Wall Of Guitar while staring at their desert boots. (I have less fond memories of Catherine Wheel, Chapterhouse and Revolver doing the same, but that's best forgotten). I can't deny that they would have fitted in well back then but unfortunately, after the unabashed entertainment provided by Clor, Engineers take a while to register. The lighting set-up doesn't help: they are harshly backlit and though the effect is pleasing at first, after 10 minutes I get sick of wondering what they look like or how many are in the band. I see the lead singer, bassist and occasionally the guitarist. The drummer (it sounded like live drums) is completely obscured from view for the entire set. The Wall Of Guitar is certainly present throughout and gets better and better as things proceed. Towards the end of their 7 or 8 song set they play "Home" and "Forgiveness" and both are excellent. The closing instrumental (obligatory for a shoegazer band) has two chords and a gargantuan guitar/keyboard sound and rumbles on pleasingly for 10 minutes or so during which the entire band, except for the bass player, are needlessly obscured from view by the light show. They could have been playing a tape for all we know.

So there's hope for Engineers, but then, even Revolver had a couple of good songs.

The Wedding Present, Leeds Poly, 6th Mar 2005

2005-03-08T00:02:00.000Z

Aah, I remember nostalgia. Last year the Pixies burst unexpectedly back into our lives to remind us how incredible they were with their ferocious sets at V2004 and Move, not that we really needed reminding but we're glad they did it. This year The Wedding Present have returned to action after a nine year break and I do feel like I need to be reminded of their greatness, or if, indeed, they were that great in the first place.

The new album Take Fountain is something of a return to form after the disappointing last two Wedding Present albums, Watusi and Saturnalia. I quite liked some of Gedge's Cinerama stuff but he's far better when he's miserable and writing about fractured relationships as he did in his Weddoes heyday. His split with Cinerama partner Sally Murrell certainly seems to have put the edge back into Gedge, to paraphrase a particularly poor Bravery lyric.

This is about the 21st time I've seen The Wedding Present, the 7th at Leeds Poly alone, and it's good to see that the venue is still as good as ever, it being about five years since I was last here (Teenage Fanclub, I think) . The crowd is made up mostly of the same people who used to go watch them way back when: men, now in their late thirties/early forties. There aren't too many women in the audience and certainly not many people too young to have seen them first time round. I catch a brief glimpse of support band Scanners, a fairly conventional but nonetheless decent indie rock act with a singer/bassist who has a bit of a Kim Deal thing going on; not a bad thing for me or for most of the audience.

The Wedding Present take the stage to rapturous homecoming applause and go straight into the opening On Ramp/Interstate 5 combo of Take Fountain. "Interstate 5" is the best thing on the new album and tonight it's even better, coaxing goosebumps from my warm, sweaty skin and they haven't even played any old stuff yet. Next up is "Crawl", one of my favourite ever Weddoes songs (even though I can't remember what it's called at the time, it's been so long since I heard it). Tonight's full on electric version doesn't really do it justice (I much prefer the acoustic strum of the original) but it's marvelous all the same. As is everything else tonight, from newies like "I'm From Further North Than You" through to Cinerama's "Careless" through to the brilliant back-to-back renditions of "Dalliance" and "Dare" from Seamonsters. "Kennedy" and "My Favourite Dress" really get the middle aged mosh pit going, "Once More", the first Weddoes song I ever heard (thanks John Peel), is an unexpected treat and the closer "What Have I Said Now" is a glorious finale, a bruising guitar romp compared to the more subdued Bizzaro version. Any reservations about the lack of history of the other band members are forgotten as they rise superbly to the task in hand. And Gedge is on fine form between songs, grilling a female fan who wants him to get his cock out, apologising for writing too many brilliant songs to play in one night and hinting that there will be more to come from the Wedding Present in the coming months and years.

So, all in all, a brilliant return, and return to form, for David Gedge and co. I think I used to take The Wedding Present for granted back in the old days but they've come back to remind us that, yes, they were, and still are, one of the truly great British indie bands of our time.

The Bravery, Manchester Academy 2, 22nd Feb 2005

2005-02-23T23:06:00.000Z

After last night's disappointment I was looking to The Bravery to bring this run of three gigs in four nights to a satisfactory conclusion.

Support was from Hard-Fi, who I'd never heard of before but, like The Chalets the previous Saturday, were a cut above your average support band. The opener was an indie-rock effort elevated by some excellent backing vocals from the bassist and guitarist and the occasional switch to 3/4 time at the end of a verse to keep things interesting. The next song was even better with the guitarist spitting out reggae chops over the verses which gave way to a chorus of pure 70's disco with the bass player providing an excellent falsetto backing. I recognised the single "Cash Machine" from its regular plays on 6 Music and it sounded great until the "there's a hole in my pocket" bit at the end went and spoiled it all. Elsewhere there were bits of The Clash, baggy, Gang Of Four, and one song reminiscent of "Walking On The Sun" by Smashmouth. But we'll gloss over that one because Hard-Fi were pretty impressive despite the fact that the indie rock/soul/dance/funk thing is not usually my bag. They are a million times better than the likes of Kasabian and The Zutons and are destined for major mainstream success in the near future.

Were it not for The Killers and Interpol, would The Bravery be here tonight, selling out the Academy 2 after being upgraded from the Hop And Grape? Probably not. In Sam Endicott they have an imposing frontman: lean, tall, lantern-jawed, impressive quiff, though when he cocked his microphone wielding arm to the horizontal during the opening "Unconditional" he looked almost exactly like 70's crooner Alvin Stardust, but without the big ring. Christ, am I too old to still be going to gigs? Probably. As for the rest of the band, well the bassist and guitarist look like low rent versions of Carlos D and Kessler from Interpol, and the keyboard player and drummer look, rather improbably, like the Gallagher brothers, Liam and Noel respectively. At least from where I was standing.

The Bravery, last night.

The songs are a mish-mash of The Killers, Interpol, The Strokes with some heavy sequencing and keyboard parts that owe a debt to New Order. They're not bad songs, in fact "Honest Mistake", "Swollen Summer" and set closer "Fearless" are all excellent, but The Bravery can't hold a candle to the bands mentioned above. They don't have the killer tunes of The Killers, the swagger of The Strokes, the intensity of Interpol or the inventiveness of New Order. The songs are somewhat formulaic with little depth and Endicott's lyrics often grate; I may be singing along to "Honest Mistake" now but in five years time I fear I'll have trouble recalling its very existence. That'll be the Alzheimers kicking in. It's an energetic and entertaining performance, mind, which culminates in some excellent stage diving by the bassist and one of those cringeworthy moments when a member of the audience gets hold of the microphone and reminds us all of the name of the band that we're watching in one long, drawn out bellow before passing the mic to the person next to him who does exactly the same.

The Bravery have already scheduled another gig at the same venue in May. Might give that one a miss.

REM, Sheffield Arena, 21st Feb 2005

2005-02-22T16:05:00.000Z

After we'd driven for almost 2 hours from Manchester, taking the snowy, scenic, slow route from Manchester to Sheffield, paid £5 for the privilege of parking in the venue's car park, eaten super-size portions at a moderately expensive american diner in the nearby retail park, queued in the snow to get in, sat craning our necks towards the stage to watch Now It's Overhead attempt to fill the cavernous, soulless arena with their unremarkable brand of college rock, Stipe and Buck amble onto the stage too early for it to be the start of the gig and tell us that Mike Mills has done a Jacko - he's on his way to hospital with flu-like symptoms, and so the gig's cancelled.

I'm gutted. More so than I should be. I was dreading another setlist filled with what REM deem their European audience wants to hear, ie. Everybody Hurts, Animal, some godawful dirges from New Adventures, I Took Your Name as an opener, a ton of stuff from Around The Sun, The Great Beyond etc. But, It's REM, they've made most of the last 20 years of my life worth living. I'll forgive them anything.

Fortunately Buck has brought his guitar onto the stage and so we get excellent acoustic versions of "The One I Love", "Leaving New York", "I've Been High" and the inevitable "Losing My Religion". We listen intently to these morsels they're throwing for us, bent on taking in every last drop while all around us idiots chatter away, text their friends, arena audiences - why do they bother coming at all?

Anyway, the replay is set for June 15th, just 2 days before their Lancashire Cricket Club date, and enough time for "Radio Free Europe" and "Life And How To Live It" to wend their ways into the playlist. Maybe.

Art Brut, Manchester Roadhouse, 19th Feb 2005

2005-02-20T18:48:00.000Z

We go to tonight's gig on the strength of the Art Brut single "Formed A Band" which appeared in John Peel's posthumous Festive Fifty and has a chorus which, despite barely having a tune to speak of, is highly infectious. Also, it's only a fiver (plus 20% booking fee) to get in, which is pretty good in a world of steadily increasing ticket prices (sorry Mercury Rev, your disappointing new album doesn't warrant the price of a ticket on your latest tour (£15 +). And neither does yours, REM (£35 +), but I'll pay it anyway on the off-chance that you'll play "7 Chinese Brothers" or "Life And How To Live It").

Support tonight comes from Dublin quintet The Chalets who mix pure indie-pop with rock'n'roll and are reminiscent of Athens GA bands The B-52's and Pylon and some other 80's girlie pop bands that I can't quite recall. Anyway, they're excellent. Their two female singers/keyboardists take centre stage wearing matching, symetrical dresses AND matching, symetrical tattoos. It's only their Katie Harris style haircuts that stop them from being perfect mirror-images of each other. And the fact that they don't really look much alike. They are flanked by two male guitarists, who share guitar/bass playing duties and also sing, and backed up by a male drummer, who doesn't. They sing about domestic violence on "Love Punch" and about going "on holiday / with someone who is gay", and about four songs in they really hit their stride - the girls, who rarely sing out of unison, trading lines with the boys to great effect. As good a support band as I've seen for a long time and ones to watch in the future.

"Look at us! We formed a band!"

The exasperation evident in the chorus of "Formed A Band" seems well founded as Art Brut take the stage. They are a disparate bunch: the bass player, a goth chick; guitarist 1, nu metalhead; guitarist 2, computer programmer - he's even wearing his suit; drummer, er, can't remember to be honest; singer, overgrown schoolkid with big eyebrows, like Charlie from Busted/Fightstar's older, wayward brother. It's no secret that they don't take themselves too seriously and that their main ambition is to appear on Top Of The Pops, an ambition which, on the evidence of tonight's gig, will surely be realised sooner rather than later.

Lead singer Eddie Argos takes his place atop the speaker cabinets which double as a crash barrier at the front of the stage, towering over his audience like Julian Cope when he used to have that massive mike stand thing. The band lay down their grooves while Eddie sings/talks through songs which take potshots at the NME, Velvet Underground, Britpop, the LA lifestyle, it's all very topical and much of what I can hear (poor sound where we're standing at the front right of the stage) hits the mark. He's not remotely a good singer, sounding like Robert Smith trying to do Mark E Smith, but it doesn't remotely matter: the band sounds great, the songs fizz with energy, and almost every line lands a punch on someone who had it coming. "Moving To LA" and "Bad Weekend" sound particularly good while "These Animal Menswe@r" is almost lives up to its title.

They end with a song which goes "Art Brut/Top Of The Pops/Art Brut/Top Of The Pops/The Chalets/Top Of The Pops/The Chalets/Top Of The Pops". Let's hope so.

The Dears, Manchester Academy 2, 4th Feb 2005

2005-02-08T01:12:00.000Z

I've no real preconceptions of The Dears going into this one. Mrs Ledge bought the No Cities Left CD a while back and I've listened to it occasionally, usually in the background while washing up/ironing etc. Anyway, I know no song titles except for "Lost In The Plot" which, great though it is, has yet to lose that Damon Albarn sings Morrissey albatross, but I sense that the album has potential if given a proper listen.

Support comes from Ambulance Ltd who kick off with an excellent instrumental and go downhill from there. They're not particularly bad, and they're young and earnest enough to suggest that they won't fade into obscurity, but their inoffensive indie/alt.country schtick just washes over me.

The Dears arrive and thankfully Murray Lightburn looks nothing like Damon Albarn, and, tonight at least, sounds nothing like Damon Albarn. Thank God. The first two songs drift by in an ambient haze and are excellent. I've no idea what they are called or whether they are on No Cities Left. Maybe they're towards the end of the album, in that graveyard slot for any album that is only listened to whilst washing up, ironing etc., loath as I am to ever start listening to a CD from any place other than track 1.

Off stage a small miracle has occurred as Mrs Ledge is afforded an excellent view of the stage without having to stand right at the front, her 4'10" frame being posited behind a large crowd of similarly sized young girls. On stage The Dears go from strength to strength. They sound less restrained than on record, and are clearly enjoying themselves, and they can really play. I stand mesmerised for the rest of the gig, my mind focused on what's going on in front of me. The play "We Can Have It" and it sounds so much better than the inferior rip off of Spiritualized's "Out Of Sight" that I previously had it pegged as. On "Lost In The Plot" the crowd drowns out the band singing the "don't mess with our love" part and it's the highlight of the show. Other stuff I recognise from No Cities Left, "Who Are You, Defenders Of The Universe" and "The Second Part" are both excellent, though their most obvious Smiths tribute "Don't Lose The Faith" is sadly omitted.

All too soon it's over. I'm genuinely surprised to find out they've been on stage for over an hour when it feels like half that. Oh well, time to give that CD a proper listen.

Adam Green, Manchester Night & Day Cafe, 1st Feb 2005

2005-02-05T23:54:00.000Z

Tonight's sold out gig at the Night & Day is the first time I've seen Adam Green since the Moldy Peaches went their separate ways, and the first time I've seen him not dressed as Robin Hood. Since then he's released three albums and managed to re-invent himself as some sort of indie lounge crooner, though quite where he fits in the whole indie scheme of things these days I'm not too sure. The Peaches had their anti-folk scene and swept into the public eye hanging on to the coattails of The Strokes; they had hilarious, filthy lyrics and great tunes, and were a welcome comic counterpart to The Strokes linear rock sensibilities.

Tonight's support is from The Gnomes, who also happen to be Green's backing band. They play a familiar backwoods indie rock fused with a bit of alt.country and are dressed accordingly: skinny jeans: check, denim jacket: check, lumberjack shirt: check (ha), corduroy jacket: check, beards: check, t-shirt advertising random BBQ house in the Deep South: check. They sound ok, swapping turns at the mic with the drummer getting all the best songs.

When Adam Green takes the stage he looks every bit Julian Casablancas' kid brother, his slightly frazzled demeanor recalling that of Casablancas at The Strokes' dismal V2004 appearance where the frontman seemingly phoned in his performance from an Amsterdam karaoke bar. Thankfully Green is nowhere near as bad. He opens with "Choke On A Cock", a song which mixes politics and showtunes and filth, in a good way. The rich texture of his voice suits the songs well and The Gnomes sound far better than when playing their own songs earlier in the evening. The songs come thick and fast: "Gemstones" is all over the place, changing musical direction and tempo at the drop of a hat; "Emily" and "Bluebirds" are a delight; "Computer Show" and "Dance With Me" leave me wondering why I never bought his first album. He clearly enjoys himself and the adoration of the crowd but I can't tell if he's taking himself seriously or not and therefore I'm not sure if I can do the same.

The only low point of the evening was the presence of a few idiotic (and seriously underage) fans who insisted on throwing their super-size me bodies around at the front of the stage, pissing off many people who wanted to watch the gig without getting an elbow in the ribs every two seconds. After all, this was more Tony Bennett than Green Day. When Mrs. Ledge complained she got the stock teenage reply "Its a GIG!!!". "It's not a gig, its assault, fuckwit" we reply in our best Victor Meldrew voices. Or perhaps not. During the encore of the excellent "Over The Sunrise" and the disappointing "Jessica Simpson" another very tall idiot in a blue t-shirt pushes his way to the front and throws himself about, slamming into one girl so hard that she's almost in tears. "It's a GIG!!!" he says, after being challenged by her boyfriend. Threats are made. We slink off into the night, amused, abused, bemused.

American Music Club, Manchester Hop & Grape, 30th Jan 2005

2005-02-01T01:03:00.000Z

So, American Music Club return after a 10 year haitus during which I completely lost interest in the works of Mark Eitzel after buying his debut solo effort, the utterly forgettable 60 Watt Silver Lining. It was a welcome relief that they split up in the first place after their awful final album San Francisco so I approached their resurrection with much trepidation. The new album, Love Songs for Patriots, however, was a revelation, easily their best work since Everclear and containing actual tunes like what they used to write before the Red Right Hand of the major labels steered them so disastrously off course in the early 90's.

To the gig. Support band The Amazing Pilots, from Ireland, were ok: some nice tunes but nothing to set them apart from the crowd. Their biggest cheer came when the lead singer got a call from his mate Ryan while the guitarist was sorting out problems between songs. "Hey, Ryan, how's it going?...I'm actually in the middle of a gig...yeah, like now" and so on.

AMC took the stage looking roughly 11 years older to a man since I last saw them about 11 years ago. Vudi is still stick thin and looks about 90 in contrast to Eitzel, whose waistline was wisely hidden for most of the gig by a cumbersome overcoat, and Dan Pearson whose middle age spread has merely served to increase his brooding presence behind his bass - think Christian Slater in 10 years time if he really lets himself go. New Keyboard player Marc Chapelle I recognise, days later, as being one of the extended Lambchop family. Not a bad thing.

The set was culled mainly from Patriots and the overrated Mercury. Why do so many people insist that this is their best album? It's got some good songs like "Johnny Mathis' Feet" and "I've Been A Mess", the latter of which they played tonight, but it doesn't come close to Engine, United Kingdom, California or Everclear. Those albums are packed with great tunes, great lyrics and great, spare, arrangements compared to the over-produced, over-written, under-melodious disappointment that is Mercury. I could apply this in triplicate to San Francisco but they wisely chose not to treat us with any choice cuts from that album. Anyway, rant over. They played as if they'd never been away, the new stuff from Patriots coming across particularly well, especially "Myopic Books" and the mesmerising "Patriot's Heart". Of the old stuff "Why Won't You Stay" transported us back to the days when they could do no wrong, "Outside This Bar" rocked in all the right places and "Western Sky" was a predictable, but welcome, encore. It's what they didn't play that disappointed: "Nightwatchman" and "Blue And Gray Shirt" (their finest moment in my opinion) had been dusted down on previous dates on this tour but not tonight, and, c'mon guys, "The Hula Maiden"? Is it too much to ask? Er, well, I didn't ask, and I didn't get. And they finished about 20 minutes short of the 10:30 curfew, plenty of time to raid the back catalogue further.