Kruger Issue 12 by Kruger Laboratories

R E G U KR MY E T A ! R TE S M HA Lunch: Maisy in happier times

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C ONTENTS NEW

YOUNG PONY CLUB - P26

Page nner re th e stu m the o fr , ie n of Stepha forests s u ro e if r love e con h e id can’t h , o and m a ‘G rh ! Du pesinos ge 32’, m a C s for Lo on pa em out cy. check th feathered fan r u ur o o s y y p u sa be right ‘They’ll . t’ twee

Kelley Stoltz - P34 Fionn REGAN - P48

Los Campesinos! - P36 SEAL CUB CLUBBING CLUB - P52

Erol Alkan - P6 HOT CLUB de PARIS - P30 ROCK THE BELLS - P43 FUTURE OF THE LEFT P22

OBITUARIES - P64 COMPETITION - P66

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krugermagazine.com myspace.com/krugermagazine

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SAYS “It’s about bloody time someone gave that Tony Blair what for” says Margaret from Birmingham, but we don’t know in reference to what. Welcome to Kruger’s tabloid arcadia, where sensation, banality and a pinch of xenophobia are served daily. ‘But wait’, says an outraged Derek from Milton Keynes. ‘Most of these bands aren’t even from Albion’. Don’t worry Derek, turn to page 11 and join our campaign.

Toot on the horn White Van Man, do we have a corking issue for you. First for news and sport, your number one Kruger brings you all the big stories. BANG! Hot Club De Paris in ‘nice guys’ shocker. BOOM! Kelley Stoltz in courtroom drama. THWAK! New Young Pony Club are not horses. It’s all in today’s Kruger, plus a pair of great tits on page 3.

Apparently websites have become all the rage. Don’t ask us, it’s still 1953 in our sepia-tinted utopia. Social networking? Get them round the table for a good Sunday roast, that’ll do you. If for some anti-social reason you are interested (maybe you’re a paedophile), www.krugermagazine.com re-launches in December, featuring news, reviews, features and fun. We love it!

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KRUGER CONTRIBUTORS NAMED AND SHAMED Kruger has many contributors. Here they are in order of appearance:

WORDS Helia Phoenix, Dan Tyte, Catriona Shearer, Natalie Davies, James W Roberts, Simon Roberts, Neil Condron, Emily Payne, DJ Moneyshot, Laura Byding-Citizen, Selby Strange, Jen Long, Janne Oinonen, Laura Bryon, James Anthony, Daniel Owens, Owain K, Jamie Gunn, Joey Hood, Helen Weatherhead, Ash Dosanjh, Susie Wild.

IMAGES Lele Saveri, Mei Lewis, Jessica Long, Lee Goldup, Adam Gasson, Kate Phillips, Paul Ryding, Eleanor Stevenson, Paul Tsanos, Tom Whitehead.

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Kruger Magazine Issue 12 Editors: Mike Williams, Joe Howden, Mike Day Reviews Editor: Helia Phoenix Research: Helen Weatherhead Thanks to: Nathan Warren, Erol Alkan, Ruth@Toast, Beth@Bestest, Ash@9pr, Michael@Beggars, Becky@Darling, Huw@ Goldstar, Greg Mothersdale, Guerilla Union, Will@ Inhouse, Spike@monochromemedia, Spoonhead, Bella Union, Ben Carter, Heather Ferguson, Ella & Sinead, Yann’s Chippy, Al Power, Carl Rylett, John Rostron & the whole Plugtwo crew, Open Road Films, Cherry Jones, Ria, Henry & Kate @ Topaz Street and all our advertisiers. Produced by Kruger in a cold & damp garage in Cardiﬀ. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part without the kind permission of Kruger. The opinions expressed in this magazine are not necessarily the opinions of Kruger. All work by Mike Day, Mike Williams & Joe Howden unless otherwise credited. All words, photography and illustrations are original and speciﬁc to Kruger. Kruger is a quarterly magazine and is distributed throughout the UK.

mail@krugermagazine.com

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THIS MAN IS TRASH! Where are your children at night? Why do Bloc Party suddenly sound different? What’s a Wizard’s Sleeve? Erol Alkan has a lot to answer to... Words by Helia Phoenix Pictures by Lele Saveri

Kruger Undercover kruger12.indd 6

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It’s a dusky, wet afternoon somewhere in deepest darkest south London. I’ve been hanging out here for some time now, deep undercover. To the masses pouring through for cups of tea and sweaty bacon baps I’m just another grubbed-out loser, possibly with a hangover or drug problem, probably both. The door swings open and an unfeasibly tall chap in a woolly hat lurches to the table opposite me. Under his left arm he clutches a battered leather satchel close to his chest. He sits down, looks shiftily around and beckons me over. I was sent here to meet with one of contemporary music’s greatest enigmas. DJ, producer, promoter responsible for throwing London’s biggest weekly party. Notoriously an innovating force in creating the eclectic-mashup-rock-breaks-n-bleeps scene that the kids are spazzing out to these days, Erol Alkan certainly knows his shit. As well he should do. He’s been a professional party instigator since his teens when - the story goes - he would sneak out at night to DJ at a club in Leicester Square for a tenner, then sneak back in before his mum caught him. The party buzz got him hooked. “I like seeing people enjoy themselves and let their hair down,” he shrugs. But despite his reputation of being a party vibe DJ, he’s a surprising workaholic. “I tend to work 7 days a week,” he says - and he’s not kidding - “if I’m not DJing then I’m in the studio. I’ve been doing stuﬀ with the Long Blondes and The Mystery Jets. After playing, I get up and I work the next day. To be honest with you - even though what I preach is to enjoy

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yourself, I don’t have a better time at parties. For me - DJing, gigging, working - it’s as good as it gets. Know what I mean?”. And indeed, I might have an inkling. By Trash’s closing time if punters are dancing on the furniture and hanging off the fixtures then it’s been a successful night. Bloc Party were regular groovers prior to their band enlisting Alkan to remix their new wave punk pistol She’s Hearing Voices. Current Trash dancefloor destruction comes from Klaxons, Gossip, Soulwax, Long Blondes, Whitey, Peaches. Etc. But as well as the live element, the music bug has kept him constantly searching for new sounds. “There’s a certain smugness involved when you play something that no-one else has got but you know the crowd will love - to walk into a room and know you’re gonna play something that’s gonna blow everyone’s mind”. Not dissimilar to the bootlegged party tunes that he’s been creating since his first mixtapes. Of course, these days every man and his dog are spewing out mashup tunes like the churned-up remnants of last night’s speed & cheap vodka binge, but it was all (arguably) kicked off by Erol’s Kylie vs New Order cut, rinsed by everyone from Coldcut to Evil Nine. His crossover interests - from indie to electro and back again - have informed the listening habits of a generation of pogo-ing indie nu-ravers. Although you may be familiar with the man through his high profile remixes (of Scissor Sisters, Franz Ferdinand, DFA1979, Mylo & Hot Chip respectively) his musical influence spreads beyond that, with mix

nde

Alkan and Mystery Blo

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production work. “I’ve albums, artist albums, and t personas that I work got about 4 or 5 differen berately do things to under” he admits. “I deli s, because I believe area experiment in different t matters, more than tha sic mu that it’s actually the I try not to trade off the the person who makes it. back of my name”. nature and involvement Despite his workaholic is adamant that all his in multiple projects, Alkan n. “I view everything work gets his full attentio - I find it very difficult e that I do as a child of min another. The very fact r ove to favour one project means that I believe in it that I’m doing something in the sense that I believe - I’m quite old fashioned it’s worth doing well. ng, if something’s worth doi thing you do by any g ttlin You gamble by beli .” labelling it as a side project

things - some things that But then again it’s like all are the things you end it takes longer to get into rt”. hea r up holding closer to you walls of one club though, Not confined to the four e his electropsychodisco this year has seen Alkan tak ntry, playing dates with on the road across the cou bile Disco, and further Annie Mac and Simian Mo Tokyo and beyond. But afield on a solo mission to thing, it seems. “I treat he’s not fazed by much any - I don’t like to gauge nt every day as a high poi It’s all good for me.” ers. oth ve certain events abo either: it’s his life. But Music isn’t a career for him point so far, he smiles when asked the highest ing “Getting married”. wer and pauses before ans t he’s just a big hippy tha ced I’m further convin es “I like to see people at heart when he conclud , feeling unified. I just happy, enjoying themselves . Who doesn’t?”. pier want to see the world hap

sions for his work, and He speaks openly of his pas ss is uncool his words sne riou in a world where labo ng. He’s not shy about are refreshing and endeari ns either. his musical experimentatio y just to piss people off “I sort of do it deliberatel k that I’m a one trick - people who might thin to hit out to a different pony. I want my projects t I do as Beyond The tha set of people - the stuff bably appeal to a set of Wizard’s Sleeve will pro entertain the thought of people who would never stuff that excites me, and going to Trash. I just do of it works, some of it e it’s like anything - som you play and you know doesn’t. There’s stuff that ight away - then there’s is gonna go down well stra gonna have to get into stuff you know people are t are less immediate. tha gs and grow to love, thin kruger12.indd 8

h him. As he gets up to I’m inclined to agree wit er bag into my hand. leave, he slips a brown pap tains a white labelled con it On closer inspection, trodiscodelic wares elec his g hin record. He’s pus look up to question him on me now, but when I ngs closed. He’s gone. the door of the café swi But watch out. I have ve. My report? Inconclusi have more tricks up his suspicions this man might wizard’s sleeve.....

nt To?

Erol Alkan : Do You Wa

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CAMPAIGN

Last night the country was in uproar as the full extent of the Swedish infiltration of the UK was revealed. As we wake up this morning to a country overrun by Swedish musicians, Kruger brings you these special reports from deep within the cell, and this ain’t no red herring! As Swedish representation in our album charts rises by 87% a year, we’re facing a musical pandemic, or should we say, Scan-demic.

Get on your soapbox, thump your tub and drape yourself in red white and blue. While all these goodie goodie lefties champion the virtues of Ryvita and Flat-Pack furniture, we can reveal a darker, more sinister truth: kruger12.indd 11

Over the next 9 pages we expose the bands hellbent on forcing every decent, honest British musician into the dole cue with their infectious pop melodies, their toe-tapping experimentalism and their… er, I mean, kick these bastards out of Britain!

WITH DOWN ORT S THIS ING H T F O

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LOVE IS ALL THE FLOODGATES ARE OPEN. ENOCH POWELL IS TURNING IN HIS GRAVE. A TRACK-SUITED WAVE OF EUROPEANS ARE SWAMPING GOOD OLD ALBION. Dan Tyte with a special report As the Daily Mail paints the average Pole as a catfood eating, child raping, donkey fucking miscreant (didn’t Hitler start with the Polish?), a wave of suspicion slowly creeps across Middle England. Speaking in tongues in the Tesco queue, wearing bizarre facial hair, being good at football, it’s just not … well, you know … terribly British is it?

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Suddenly the solution becomes clear. Why don’t we simply recreate colonisation on our own little island? Just think of the benefits…I mean for a start we won’t have to live on a horribly cramped smelly ship for months getting to the damn savages in the first place. What an admirable idea! We’ll have the little darkies (um…whities) Anglicised and taking cream teas at high noon before you can say ‘Who’s your tennis coach?’. Fresh off the boat are Swedish types, Love is All. Debut long player Nine Times That Same Song treads the well-worn guitar-drums-keyboard route but adds saxophone (think Fun House by The Stooges) and a yelping frontgal to the soup to make for one jolly good time. Teeny Josephine Olausson angelically screeches through thirty odd minutes of entrancing, experimental post-punk joy. ‘Come on kids, click your fingertips’ she sings on stand-out track Felt Tip and it’s hard to resist. There’s a chugging repetitiveness (knowingly winked at by the title) to the album bordering on the sexual, that would have Mr and Mrs Range Rover of the Home Counties hot under their tweed collars. Or at least changing the soundtrack at their next swinging party. How dare Love is All come over here and make our bands look rubbish, leaving our lads to busk on wet street corners for buttons, struggling to cobble enough small change together for an Englishman’s birthright - a hot brew and some rolling tobacco? Kruger decides there’s only one thing for it … we’ll

have to claim them as our own. Staring through the barbed wire fence to freedom, Love is All take the British Citizenship Test to see if they’re up to the burden of becoming card-carrying members of America’s best friend. Q1. People under nineteen represent what proportion of the British population? a)1/2, b)1/3, Love is All answer correctly- c) 1/4 c)¼ or d)1/10

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Childhood in Britain. Ah … smell the nostalgia. Cider in the park, marker pens behind the bike sheds … umm … the Duke of Edinburgh award. So what’s the diﬀerence in Sweden then? “It’s boring most of the time,” Markus, of drum beat infamy laments. “There are a few good things that maybe you don’t have, like skiing is easier, or you can go out and pick mushrooms easier than in Britain.” Skiing on mushrooms? Finally a Winter Olympic sport we may have a chance of a medal in.

Although Josephine bounds and bawls across the stage like a crazed toddler intent on her next E number ﬁx this lovely little Schwedin is in fact, a fully grown adult. Looking back to being a kid she tells, “ya’know you really had to struggle a bit to listen to a certain type of music and become the alternative kid in your school. I remember I saw Tim Burgess wearing a striped

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CAMPAIGN

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Love is All - Photographed by Mei Lewis

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CAMPAIGN shirt and I searched for so long to ﬁnd one, but it just wasn’t around when we were kids. Now, it’s like, hey, go down to Topshop and you can buy a whole outﬁt.” Bassist Johan, Markus’ partner in beatcrime, agrees. “I guess it was a good thing, a good time to not have everything served for you. I’d borrow someone’s old mix tape and hear a song that there was no way I could get on record unless I went all the way to Stockholm or London or wherever.”

Q2. Where is the Scouse dialect spoken? a) Liverpool b) Wales Love is All answer correctlyc) East London Liverpool d) Midlands

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Once immigrants come to Britain, adopt the name Brian and start eating everything with red sauce they may think they’ve outgrown the stereotyping that dogged them throughout their attempts to integrate into UK society. ‘I am no

longer a Macedonian scapegoat’, they may cry,’ I am now an English gent’. Alas, they’d be wrong. To become truly British, one must revert to the trivialities of stereotype that hang around the air of our regions like a fake rape charge. Scots are tightarses, the Irish have sideburns, Brummies are boring, Cockneys are cunts … You can clear your name, but it never goes away. Surely the mild-mannered Swedes couldn’t be so narrow minded? Assembled from all over Sweden, Love is All brew their addictive potion

Stockholm is full of these crazy little wannabe Stockholmers in a new recording space in East Gothenburg. Proud Gothenburger Josephine pouts, ”I don’t even want to talk about Stockholm.” A seething Johan explains, ”Stockholm is full of these crazy little wannabe Stockholmers and they are the worst people ever.” Country boy Markus takes over to describe his fellow farm-folk: “Down-toearth, working class, always telling jokes, likes football, 5% racist.” Maybe Sweden’s not so diﬀerent after all. Ask a foreigner to picture an Englishman and chances are they’ll think of Mr. Benn on his way to the fancy dress shop. Sharp suit, bowler hat, briefcase. That or a lagered up football hooligan. Johan sheds some light on the archetypal Swede, “My sister’s boyfriend is from England and he can tell a Swedish person from

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! !! 27/11/06 11:05:44

CAMPAIGN like a hundred metres distance … because of the haircut. People iron their clothes in Sweden. I don’t think a lot of young people do that in any other place. It’s kind of neat, but not very stylish.” Q3. When did women get the same voting rights as men in the United Kingdom? a) 1918, b) 1958, Love is All are wrong. c) 1928 They say 1918, we say 1928 d) 1908

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! ! ! !

Britishers may be forgiven for thinking tabloid shaggers Sven and Ulrika were King and Queen of Sweden. But according to Nicholaus Ulrika could have walked through the streets of Stockholm with her saggy arse on show and no-one would have recognised her pre-Svengate.

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“Equal rights?” chirps Josephine. “They’re coming next year in Sweden.” Life as a female in a male dominated band is full of ups and downs. Debbie Harry had an on-oﬀ relationship with Blondie guitarist Chris Stein, Nico got hooked on brown with The Velvet Underground, Anita from 2Unlimited had to put up with Ray’s ridiculous hair … Josephine spills on life in Love is All. “I think that everyone of us thinks that we are the boss. Really I’m the boss but I’m doing it in a discrete way.” She writes the lyrics and did form the band “…a minute before someone else could. We were on a tram and our old band, Girlfrendo, had just split up and I was just…I did not want to not be in a band. Is that what you say? I-did-not-want-to-be….”. Guitarist Nicholaus (least annoying band member according to Jo) helps out. “You wanted to be in a band!” Josephine laughs. “Thanks, its so much easier that way!”

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Q4. Who is the head of state of the United Kingdom? a) The Queen Love is All answer b) Prime Minister correctly- the Queen c) Lord Chancellor-

What can you give to Britain? “Less posing and more fun” “Sex scandals are not big news in Sweden. The sort of big crimes you can commit in Sweden is trying to cheat with your taxes. We have a new government now, and it’s a big, big scandal that three members of the government did not pay their TV license. But if the prime minister was sleeping with other ladies, it’s really his business. No one cares.” If Swedish Braille is the same as English, David Blunkett may very well relocate.

BEARDY

BEARDYSHAMBLES! BEARDYSHAMBLES Peter Picks Peroxide Plumage Peter Doherty, lead singer of indie legends Babyshambles, has become the latest in an alarmingly long line of British rockers to sport a Swedish-style blonde beard. Doherty, 27, told pals he feared a fan’s backlash if he failed to assimilate. ‘He’s been eating Ryvita all week”, our insider told us.

In the year 793 Viking pirate raiders sailed across the North Sea to a Christian monastery at Lindisfarne in north-east England. They stole its treasures, murdered the monks and terriﬁed everyone. There they remained, forming a band named in honour of their new abode, continually refreshing the members - a bit like that group, Menudo, that Ricky Martin was in - until their glory came in 1990, hitting number one in the charts with a cover of their own 1971 hit, Fog on the Tyne, featuring Gazza on vocals.

Viking Boats: Long

Having passed the citizenship test with ﬂying colours, there’s just one last thing to ask Love is All. Think not what Britain can give to you. but what you can give to Britain? “Less posing and more fun” says Josephine. Love is All, the UK welcomes you with open arms. Swede: Dreams

Do you know of any Swedish musicians performing in your area? Notice that the new organist’s surname is Schwartz? Maybe there’s a Scando Sympathiser living on your street, harbouring these hazardous artistes? Call the Kruger Shop-A-Scando Hotline conﬁdentially, and we’ll send a big van to camp outside your house, causing unrest and rioting on your estate. Call 0800-KRUGER Today!

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CAMPAIGN

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CAMPAIGN Words by Catriona Shearer

I track down Peter Morén, the Peter in the Peter Bjorn & John trio, to a sandwich shop in Stockholm. I’m in Shotts, in sunny Scotland on the other end of the phone. Ringing from Home Secretary John Reid’s constituency? Perfect cover. Sweden’s Peter Bjorn and John have been making waves on our shores, and we’re suspicious. Who are this 60s baroque pop outfit, what do they want, what are their intentions, and do they truly deserve our appreciation? Let’s look at the details. He’s in a sandwich shop. With “John and a girl from the record company”. He won’t be drawn further on his affiliation with these two. I think it must be John Eriksson – the drums, percussion and vocals of this 60’s baroque pop outfit, and some decoy from Wichita. I decide to ask some questions to get to the bottom of it. Writer’s Block - PBJ’s third album - is a bit of a joke; in the title anyway. “We didn’t have any writers block at all. In fact, quite the opposite. We had writer’s flow,” says Peter. “We live and

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record in the same neighbourhood; that’s why the title came up. We live near each other and near the studio and rehearsal space.” That studio belongs to Bjorn (vox, bass and keys) which – in the absence of avaricious fees - lends itself to a relaxed recording process. “I think we

You’re still a bit stuck on your Britpop - like you don’t want to leave it. That could be a problem... have some different procedures to British bands regarding recording. A lot of the British stuff tends to be over-produced. It sounds a bit posh! We’re more lo-fi and perhaps you British like that. We have a lot of accidents in the studio – we’ve never been in an expensive one. We work with effects and try to make it sound not so posh, not so clean; a bit dirty.” Well, the lo-fi, shoegazey guitars and glacial dreamscapes are hardly filth, but I think I know what he’s getting at. He’s noticed a difference in recording techniques, but what about the live aspect? “Yeh – it is very different. The main difference is that people really like to go to concerts in the UK. Whereas here - people don’t often pay to go see a band; they’d pay to go to a club. But in the UK – they come to see a gig. I think it’s a good gig culture in the UK, which we don’t have here.

We have a lot of good bands; but not many good venues.” Although keen on our healthy live music scene, he’s not crazy about our not-so-healthy British way of life. “A lot of people here (Sweden) really hate Britain; it’s just dirty – we have a high standard in Sweden in terms of living. But I quite like Britain. I like the crappy food.” He might not be enamoured by our culinary oﬀerings, but some of our homegrown bands get his mouth watering. “I listen to a lot of British music. Hot Chip are really good – I like them and they’re doing really well in Sweden at the moment. I like the old culture of Britain, although you’re still a bit stuck on your Britpop – like you don’t want to leave it. That could be a problem.” I point out that Swedes are still a bit stuck on ABBA and it doesn’t seem to be a problem for them, but it doesn’t go down too well, so we turn the talk to the tour. Peter Bjorn & John are back in the UK in November to further promote the album. Their two previous albums were never released in the UK, but guess what … they’re all going to be re-released in the UK next year. So PBJ are making like true popstars, taking inspiration from their Scandinavian cousins, The Hives, by scoring a top single, re-releasing their back catalogue to win the hearts and minds (and wallets) of us all and then … well, who knows. Peter Bjorn & John photgraphed by Jessica Long

HAVE YOUR SAY: Maureen Schillachi, 76, from Glasgow says:

“I tried Ryvita once and it got stuck in my teeth.”

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CAMPAIGN Words by Natalie Davies

The last lonely bastion of Swedish pop music survives in a city called Jönköping, perched on the shore of the great lake Vattern. Only a handful of musicians remain, as Swedish bands sail into the lucrative arms of the great British record buying public, leaving the native pop culture in the throes of its ﬁnal Swan Song. This is the story of one man’s quest to return to a more innocent age, when music was for dancing to at parties rather than merchandise and myspace. Emanuel Lundgren, the quietly spoken moustachioed visionary, gathered 28 indie insurgents to form one supergroup, I’m from Barcelona.

I’M FROM BARCELONA

Brandishing retro tank tops, percussion instruments and an unfailingly positive outlook, they sing about building tree houses, collecting stamps and cherishing your dreams. “I miss the thing of singing with your friends because you don’t do that anymore. A hundred years ago I guess they were all singing in cottages and people would sing together old songs. But today music is more about making money and having hits. That’s not my way of looking upon music at all.”

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CAMPAIGN During the summer of 2005, Lundgren took 1 month oﬀ from his regular job to record a collection of uplifting pop songs with his girlfriend, his friends, their friends, their close and distant relations and anyone else who was capable of blowing a kazoo or holding a tune. Their contagious anthem, We’re from Barcelona features all 29 members lined up in a school photo formation, swaying, grinning and sweetly declaring ‘You’ll be one of us when the night comes.’ “I didn’t even think that we would do a live performance but we tried it at the local bar here

in Jonkoping and it was so much fun. It was the kick I’ve been looking for in music for a long time and since then it’s just kept rolling. If I knew what was going to happen I don’t think I would have dared to start a band like this, but I’m glad that I didn’t know back then. All the ideas were based on this four week vacation and the whole thing was kind of simple, I didn’t think in economical terms of touring or anything like that.”

I like the idea of mixing the band and the audience because it’s really the same thing.

IFB show little regard for how bands usually operate at gigs. There are no barriers between audience and band, it’s all very free and easy, like a game of swing ball in a nudist camp. “I love pulling people up on stage. I just like the surprised look in their faces when they are suddenly facing the audience. I like the idea of mixing the band and the audience together because it’s really the same thing. We are just standing looking upon each other- and you can turn that around as well.” The IFB approach raises a sardonic eyebrow at the artists who favour a superior attitude to the crowd, exempliﬁed by their inert, motionless performance packing out Rough Trade’s miniscule London HQ in some sort of zant Skandinavian record breakers. “It was a mixture of a song and a mental hospital. I tried to get people involved but when it’s a room that tiny it’s too close to the audience and it’s almost embarrassing for some people, when I stand half a metre away, shouting”. Demonstrating their arsenal of happy clapping and community spirit, they eventually moved out onto the street, where they drew a large crowd of Skando-sympathisers and twee-loving nerds. “I really hope when people see us live that they will go home and start a band with their friends. We could have an international festival with all kinds of I’m From Barcelona bands in diﬀerent gangs of friends. No audience, just bands.”

HAVE YOUR SAY: Nicholas Keythong, 47, of Welshpool says:

størbritannien

“There ain’t no blonde in the Union Jack!”

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WE’RE DOOMED! Words by Natalie Davies The terror alert against the Skando takeover has been raised from mauve to terrorcotta. Not only are the Swedes relentlessly inﬁltrating our hearts and myspaces, those other pesky Nordic countries are getting ideas above their station.

“You go to places where people will listen and if some people don’t like it then fuck you, I don’t care about that.” So it’s ﬁngers in ears and constant vigilance against the pale invaders who will stop at nothing to win you over with their interesting ideas and artistic integrity.

Norway has released unholy terror on the shoegazing community with their secret weapon, Sereena Maneesh. The normally introspective puﬀ divers are looking across the Baltic sea with wonder at the band that dares to challenge the Scot’s Jesus and Mary Chain for the most distortion used on any record ever.

British teenagers are sexually attracted to Swedish leadsingers

Blonde beard hair grows faster than brunette beard hair.

Rogue British farmers have been growing Swedes under our noses for many years

The strongest girl in the world is Swedish Volvos have their headlights on even in the daytime Yoko Ono was actually from Malmo.

KRUGER

• 10 more pages of scare mongering!

HAVE YOUR SAY: James Davidson, 54, from Essex says:

“It’s a fucking disgrace!”

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6 ACTUAL FACTS about Sweden

4 5 6

Speaking from his opium drenched hideout, front man and revolutionary Emil Nikolaisen had this to say: “Sweden has a long tradition of being the so called Big Brother in Scandinavia; they have a long tradition of exporting things more than Norway and Finland. I think all these peculiar interesting little brothers are growing up to be something really extravagant.” The Home Oﬃce has warned that upon hearing this band you will love them instantly and begin searching obscure record shops for their album, which is like inviting them to do a UK tour.

KNOW YOUR ENEMY!

• FREE ‘swede spotter’ wall chart for every reader! • Get your own back! Win flights to

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KRUGER MAGAZINE .COM! FRE E!

PO DC A NE ST FO W ME R EV ERY MB ER !

Kruger magazine launches its new website with a bang, and boy is it a beauty!

Featuring news, reviews, special features, interviews, celebrity columnists, a lovely big shop and all the inane ramblings you would expect from Kruger, the new website will provide the daily fix that you miss so tragically from your lives inbetween issues of your favourite free magazine!

LAUNCHING DECEMBER 2006

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And best of all, you can become a member of the site and get lots of special benefits: Create your own profile and upload your own content! Regular podcasts presented by your favourite Kruger scribes! Kruger TV: Like youtube but with less videos! Comment on everything on the site! Remember, Kruger is 100% independent and we don’t have a sugar-daddy, so sign up today and watch it grow before your very eyes!

KRUGER ISSUES KRUGER BACK BACK ISSUES FOR ONLY £3 £3 FOR ONLY EACH? EACH?

£1 OFF KRUGER BACK ISSUES OFFER ENDS SOON! Get Kruger back issues for £3 with this coupon! Simply scan this coupon into your mac*, resize to 75x75 pixels, save as a jpg and email it to us. We’ll then send you a paper copy which you can post back to us with a cheque for £3 to recieve this amazing offer! Alternatively go to www.krugermagazine.com/shop *not compatable with PC

9 907886 231003

27/11/06 11:06:32

E R

U T

U F

OF THE

Between 1936 and 1939, during the Spanish Civil War, the left- wing Republican forces in the Iberian Peninsular failed to successfully unite to thwart the eventual prevailing forces of the Fascist right. But where the union of Republicanism failed many years ago in Spain, today in South Wales Andrew ‘Falco’ Falkous and Jack Egglestone, formerly of the mighty Mclusky, have triumphantly joined up with Kelson Mathias, the former frontman of fellow ‘pop band gone wonderfully wrong’ Jarcrew to create something special with global ramifications. Spurious connection? You’re damn right!

LEFT kruger12.indd 22

“There had always been the mutual admiration between Mclusky and Jarcrew,” confirms Falco, “and when both bands ended myself and Kelson got together to see if we could do something and here we are.” Now, anyone who witnessed the sonic shitstorm that was Jarcrew will be more used to seeing Kelson charging about the venue like a whirling dervish, and his new role, as bassist, couldn’t be more different. “It’s a strange one for me personally,” admits Kelson, “because in Jarcrew I didn’t play an instrument, and now playing onstage it all involves a different structure and the biggest change for me is actually making sure the structure of the song is held down. “I‘ve literally been playing the bass since we started practicing, I mean if you are a musician you just get on with it, and Jack would agree, I think Jack is probably the most qualified musician out of all of us.” “Yeah, Jack is the most qualified musician in the World,” mocks Falco, “there’s him John Frusciantie, Geddy Lee and Steve Vai.” Since Mclusky and Jarcrew split up at the start of 2005 due to mundane reasons, FOTL (who started out with another Jarcrew member, Hywel Evans) have blitzed through a multitude of tracks,

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built upon the best, consigned the worst to an Apple recycle bin, and have honed a set of killer tunes aired on a short tour that has criss-crossed the UK, “As a band we are very primal musicians,” offers Falco, “and I know that sounds a bit stupid, but we like to go for it when we play and sometimes it takes four or five minutes for the white stuff to start flying. It’s always, in this band, about being on your toes and nobody steps back to consider what they are playing, you have to feel it in your heart and when all the noise dies down you might just be able to make something useful of it.” “I’m really happily surprised at how groove-based we are sounding,” adds Kelson now slumped on the sofa. “I’ve known Falco for a while – longer than I’ve been in the band – and with him being in Mclusky and everything I didn’t expect it to sound like it does, I mean, we disagree on loads of music – although Falco only likes three bands and he’s in two of them.” “It’s a strange world nowadays because bands are more business savvy,” says Falco, considering the role of hype in ‘making it’. “Everything is based on image and there is a certain type of band who can succeed because they fit a certain business model. There was the Strokes, and now the Arctic Monkeys, and as long as you have people in the band who look a certain way or, in particular, have six or seven members you can get signed. It

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As a

band w

ar e e

very

primal p rimall musi usicians musicians 27/11/06 11:06:43

“The ﬁrst song is A Dead Enemy Always Smells Good,” says Falco, “which isn’t going to be released yet, and whilst it is good to create a sense of anticipation it’s not a great idea to create a sense of anticipation for four months, especially for a band in our position. I mean we’re not crazy, there’s not going to be people chomping at the fucking bit or whatever. A Dead Enemy Always Smells Good is a great song, very metal, a big load of metal.” As the second track kicks in and Classic Holland take on (my) Classic France side, Falco calmly describes the Monnow Valley results as the pulsating blast of Fingers Become Thumbs soundtracks a Dutch onslaught and a piss poor France XI. “On paper the recordings are Leeds United of the mid 70’s with a disturbing sexual edge,” says Falco, “but in reality it’s the total football of the Ajax team of the late 70’s…with a disturbing sexual edge.

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“Now we’ve recorded these songs I’m pathologically bored of them and want to do some more,” continues Falco. “The good thing of having the recordings is that I can stop banging on about how it’s going to sound, and have them and say - there is how it sounds, there you go, now fuck oﬀ.” Words by James W Roberts Photgraphy by Lee Goldup

IT’S THE TOTAL

FOOTBALL

70S

With the evening getting old and the duo eyeing a weekend spell in the salubrious surrounds of Monnow Valley, I disappear into the gloom to reconvene on Halloween, listen to the Monnow recordings, and round things oﬀ over a game of Pro Evolution Soccer on the X Box.

“Fuck the Countryside Alliance, which is going to be on the album, is neither a single or a B side and no doubt some people will ﬁnd it boring like some dullards found (Mclusky track) Your Children Are Waiting For You To Die - those people weren’t fucking with the programme. If a song is boring by virtue of being slow then fuck em’.

OF THE

LATE

is interesting how getting signed is the holy grail. When I was twenty one, twenty two I used to think that, now we just want to get on with what we’ve set out to do.”

AJAX TEAM... WITH

DISTURBING L SEXUA

EDGE 27/11/06 11:06:50

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27/11/06 11:06:57

NEW YOUNG PONY CLUB Nu-rave, new-wave or outcasts from the Arc? Simon Roberts gets biblical with New Young Pony Club and finds a band keen to plough their own furrow... Photography by Adam Gasson

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Considering humanity’s genocidal leanings and the universal idiocy we all employ on an hourly basis, God shouldn’t be far from finishing his shiraz and flooding the earth or freezing our mineral water. And allowing for our current climate of political correctness, the new Noah will have to adhere to a minimum of two homosexual species to fill its equal opportunities quota for the new parade. As we all know, aside from humans, horses are not so much the pinkest of mammals but they will generally fuck anything, even filthy Land Rovers. Noah will inevitably have a problem finding homosexual animals to sit on a boat with the prejudice of any variant bear: the Polars hate the Browns and the Pandas played a strong role in the Third Reich; so with Horses being 97% of the animal kingdoms Merchant Navy, they’ll be the obvious choice for Our Lord and Master. But we haven’t considered the implication of a loss of horses to our habitats. The Daily Mail are already spewing that without glue they can’t send their letters to the beeb to get the disabled off our televisions, and this is where the New Young Pony Club come in. Not to help the Daily Mail (they are keen fans of the mobility road-show on channel 217), but to punish them and all other journalists for making wank analogies to genre stables and them galloping up the charts like black beauty with an asymetrical mane. All the people need to know is they are a band, they don’t have hooves and I was in college with their synthian Louise. The bassist, Igor couldn’t get any vegetarian sausages (or a decent ale), Sarah

the drummer had a very nice broccoli dauphinoise and Andy was just supercool. And as Tahita said, they are a ‘team,’ not a cavalry. The journos have already opened comparative gates to dupe them as Blondie multiplied by whatever electronic newwaver they can dig out. They have even called it nurave. But I didn’t see any glow sticks in the Carling Academy, no moon faced pillhead gormlessly smiling like a born again Christian. All I saw was parents drinking chardonnay and a few of their Diet Goth children thinking about changing into

It’s never been an occasion of parody for us. You shouldn’t have this reproductionalist ideal of ‘we’re going to sound like this band or that band...’ There’s so many things you can incorporate Trendys after seeing Lily Allen. The Pony Club, however, do not ﬁt into these characterisations or chronological character fraud. The Stooges rip-oﬀ era has past, the Gang of Clones, The I’m-in-anEighties-Northern-Commi-Band-heads. Now we’ve bought our way into the middle of an electro new wave of new wave of new wave. ‘It’s never been an occasion of parody for us. You shouldn’t have this reproductionalist ideal of ‘we’re gonna be this band or that band’ ... there’s so many inspiring

27/11/06 11:07:02

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things that you can incorporate and they come out the other end with your experiences with your creative point of view. You just become a parody of yourself, like, you can’t get a decent Primal Scream album without every other being a Rolling Stones record…” says Tahita. And this is the thing with the Pony Club, they don’t sound like anything but themselves, they make me shake my arse like I’m Debbie Harry but they sound nothing like Blondie. They remind me of The Slits but could be sewn up they’re so far away from them. They made Phil Jupitus put down his bakery when he played them on his BBC 6 breakfast show and even made Intel think they could shift a Kasillion processors with their aide. And before the hippie middle classes are late for their business improvement meetings and get out of their organic cars, they’re not selling ketamineburgers to the under 5s. “We’d have thought about the product a lot harder if it was McDonalds or Nike…” states Tahita. ‘And who really goes out and buys an Intel chip and what harm can come of it … they’re just in our computers. It’s really just an advert for something we all use everyday and a great demo with another video for our band, Intel heard the track and liked it and it’s helped to pay a big chunk of our advance. None of the big labels were really interested; they just sort of sniﬀed around and didn’t really know what they were dealing with, so we signed with Modular because they sort of knew what we were about. It just takes the some of the pressure oﬀ, knowing we can show the label we can make money and keep on doing what we’re doing,’ adds Andy.

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They are by all accounts doing well, every day of this tour has seen innumerable people post a comment on their MySpace page, all giving them carrots but as Tahita says ‘it’s diﬃcult to gauge with MySpace. We’ve had 3000 records out and with MySpace, it’s all the hot kids who are tuned on with it, but you can sense the synchronicity with it. It’s gone from this band, who are in this club, in this place to people who may not be in this club or place and MySpace has grown as we’ve grown, people don’t have to use this middle man

Myspace has grown as we’ve grown, people don’t have to use this middle man of music journalism and the records company and they can get music straight from the source of the band... of music journalism and the record company and they can get music straight from the source of the band themselves. There’s great interaction from fans and bands, musicians are a lot more approachable now.’ However, the journalists and the record companies will be paying a lot of attention to the New Young Pony Club. They were just a band who had banged out a couple of pre-electronic post-punk

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post-electronic pre-punk singles in Midge Ure trenchcoats. Now they’re a band who are being catergorised by binary, by idiot-holing, by 3 inch stilettos and Phil Oakey haircuts. But whatever the journos say and what ever the fuck it is, they’re arse-shakers and you should really have got these already, their first 7” Ice Cream is already moving for 60 sugar lumps and their album isn’t out for ages. So, for now, The Pony Club’s future will be measured in furlongs and this nu-wave of nurave will have nothing to do with Igor’s slut of a bassline or Tahita’s subtle tabloid reservoir of lyricism. Soon enough someone will realise that Hot Chip are just shit, this nu-rave is for indie-muffins who are just too ugly to fraternise with house-heads and no-one gives a fuck about a crimped fringe unless it’s doing something terrible. Joy Division are only New Order without Ian Curtis. And this Nu-rave is just a Nu-grave for a band like The New Young Pony Club. Really, just try to not dance when you hear them. It’s like putting a Rowntree’s fruit pastille in your mouth without chewing it. People are paying to go to a Lily Allen gig and leaving as soon as The Pony Club are through. This is how good the band are, and the thoroughbred imbeciles will get turned into glue for me to stick my stamps on letters describing how magazine shit-housers should keep to wanking off tosspots singing about petticoats, how God can just sleep off his hangover and watch a Dickensian smackhead on the telly and for the most part I’d be happy enough.

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27/11/06 11:07:24

HOT CLUB DE PARIS

The exposé that’s set to rock the DIY scene At first glance, the three young freshfaced boys in front of us could be budding young historians or law students from the nearby university having a night off from the books. But behind the neatly trimmed hair, smart polo t-shirts and articulate tones, Hot Club de Paris are a punk rock band of the kind Britain hoped it would never see again. Compliments Their story is a cautionary tale to parents who give their children too much pocket money and allow them to be corrupted by American rap records. Kruger is told how their album launch party brought a part of Liverpool’s city centre to a standstill. And, perversely, the deranged three-piece pay COMPLIMENTS to people working in the music industry. No But perhaps most disturbingly of all, the band – who boast more DIY credentials than Handy Andy de-stressing in a peep-show booth – admit to liking Yes.

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OK, you’ve probably sussed out by now that Hot Club de Paris aren’t obvious tabloid fodder. Pete Doherty makes front pages as soon as he opens his window in the morning to get some muchneeded oxygen, stretching his vein-free arms as he yawns. The Towers of London go around twatting anything that moves in the desperate hope that an off-duty pap might be arsed enough to finish of a Jay Kay-laden roll on their fucked-up antics. But Hot Club de Paris? Have they even punched a photographer yet? But it’s early days, isn’t it. Let Hot Club disgrace the pages of Kruger before we even start to think about the red tops. We meet singer/bassist Paul Rafferty, baby-faced guitarist Matthew Smith (“once he was ID’d on the way out of a nightclub”, Paul confides) and the latter’s brother and drummer Alasdair on the steps of a sold-out Manchester Academy, where tonight Hot Club de Paris will tonight support Jamie T. Snaking our way down the labyrinthine staircases and corridors, we eventually find ourselves backstage – and it’s surprisingly quiet. Jamie T is still soundchecking having arrived late after an XFM session. Hot Club de Paris raised eyebrows earlier on the same station when they performed their acapella ‘Welcome to the Hot Club de Paris’ – replete with its boast that the band will fuck anything that moves.

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We start with the breaking news – Kruger has been informed on the newswire that just two days earlier, Hot Club de Paris’s very own launch party for their debut album Drop it ‘Til it Pops was cut short before the boys could even take the stage. “Apparently it happens whenever there’s a party at Nation (former home of superclub Cream) – everywhere on the same street suﬀers from power

The music industry is full of nice people, Even the pop stars, the bigger bands we’ve met, have been nice! cuts,” Matthew explains. “Everything was going smoothly until our mates goFASTER>> came on. They launched into a bass solo and blew the place up.” Nevertheless, the band haven’t let the disappointment of a spoilt party ruin the fun they’ve been having to date. Things are still being done in a DIY spirit, with Paul spending the earlier part of today rattling oﬀ interviews, Matthew sending oﬀ invoices and Alasdair “watching Neighbours and Diagnosis Murder.” Lately, they’ve supported everyone from Tapes n’ Tapes to Peter, Bjorn and John - and they’re loving every minute of it.

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“The music industry is full of nice people,” Matthew exclaims. “Even the pop stars, the bigger bands we’ve met, have been nice!” In between the constant touring, Hot Club de Paris released Drop it ‘Til it Pops – a pop-hardcore mash-up that is as much a product of its times as it is the result of listening to Black Flag, The Minuteman and, er, Yes (“a guilty pleasure”, a contrite Paul whispers). Recording the album allowed the band to experiment a little with instrumentation – bringing in glockenspiels and pianos – but not to the point where the essence of the trio was lost. “The record is a very true document of what we are – that’s all we had time for, that’s all we had money for,” Paul details. “You have to make the best record you can in the time you’ve got, otherwise you can go on for months and just become too precious with the music. We’re not precious with the live shows, so we weren’t like that with the album.” It seems like a good time to ask Paul about his lyrics, which range from snapshots of nights-gone-wrong and messed-up relationships (“I ﬁnd the best times to write lyrics are when you’re so hungover and brittle you’re crying over the Hollyoaks omnibus and you really need your mum,” he jokes) to the kind of tongue-in-cheek street slang that has perhaps been misunderstood in some quarters.

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“This is something that’s come up a lot while we’ve been touring with Jamie. Someone made a comment on a blog about Jamie being this middle-class white boy playing hip hop to middleclass white kids.” Matthew interrupts: “And there was stuﬀ about our lyric about having a dealer living downstairs (from Who Am I? (What’s My Name?)), all ‘what would Hot Club know about having a dealer downstairs’ and stuﬀ.”

White middle-class kids are the ones who can afford drugs, white middle class kids are the ones who buy hip hop records

Well, getting on with industry types and harbouring a secret love for Close to the Edge might not be the kind of dirt The Daily Kruger was looking to dish. But the nation’s youth buying into Cameron’s nightmare and a bitchy swipe at Razorlight – now that we like. Maybe we should alert the paparazzi after all. Words by Neil Condron

Illustrations by Kate Phillips

“The thing is,” Paul continues, “white middleclass kids are the ones who can aﬀord drugs, white middle-class kids are the ones who buy hip hop records. Since 1985, white middle-class kids have been just as big a part of hip hop as their black working class counterparts.” That could be a whole debate on its own but with time running short, Kruger decides to cut to the chase: are Hot Club de Paris after a Mobo? Matthew warms to this theme: “Yeah, we could have changed the ‘slo mo fo’ line (from Snitches Get Stitches) to ‘slo mobo’, just like Johnny Borrell puts the word ‘America’ in his songs so that Americans will buy them… ”

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27/11/06 11:07:49

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27/11/06 11:07:59

The

10pm

Mike

Boys Joe

Always first with the exclusives, the 10pm Boys are back with the inside scoop, and they didn’t have to stay up all night to get it! You read it here first etc!

What do you get when you mix seven Cardiff students, a handful of pop pearlers, a healthy dose of indie snobbery and the attention of the entire music industry? Why, it’s Britain’s next big thing of course! An unfair tag though, steeped in pressure, and one that you’d never catch us bandying around willy-nilly, no siree. We’re far more level headed than that. Build ‘em up so you can knock them down? It’s not a game we play. We’ll leave that for the red-tops. And the NME. We’re not going to ride in on someone’s coat tails just to sell a few more copies. We’re free. Work that one out!

SPOTTED! Gareth Campesinos! Returns home from College!

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What we’re going to do is tell you the story of a band on the cusp of exciting times. Why? Because we’re all about bringing you the big news FIRST. Remember Akira The Don? Remember waiting two whole years from when you first read about him in Kruger (and we told you he was about to be the next big thing) to reading the review of his album in, hold on a minute, THIS issue of Kruger? Well come with us on that journey again as we bring you 2008’s biggest band, Los Campesinos! You read it here first! IMAGINE You either aren’t a registered user of Drownedinsound, don’t live in Cardiff, are not an A&R man or don’t spend hours trawling through the multitude of music blogs online if you’ve never heard of Los Campesinos! We are all those

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things (apart from the third one). Let’s assume you are not, so get comfortable, maybe make a cup of tea, and let us tell you how these indie-idealists have captured the imagination and gone from bedroom fantasists to purveyors of the catchiest, arse-shakingest, scene capturing underground hit of the year.

ability of Helen Keller on Ketamine, and having danced summer and autumn into oblivion to anthem-in-the-making You And Me Dancing, we knew this not to be true. We set out a more traditional journalistic approach, and started at the beginning …

We tracked them down to a pub – students, eh? – to get our loyal readers the story. You want the dirt, the ‘who’s shagging who’, the ‘which one bangs gack’, and the ‘which one’s Dennis Law’. Your intrepid Kruger strived to ﬁnd out. Armed with a note pad, a biro and a book of money-oﬀ vouchers for Lidl, we coaxed them to our table and made them feel at ease.

So who are they? Gareth, Tom, Ellen, Aleks, Neil, Harriet and Ollie. All bound together by an adopted surname and an infectious feeling for indie-pop at it’s ﬁnest.

We’d heard a lot of rumours about the band. They’d only played 12 gigs, 2 of them were going out with each other, 17 labels were chasing their signature, 6 of them had crack habits. Some, if not all of these things must be true, and like Woodward and Bernstein, we got deep. We started with a game. The note pad was passed around the group and they were each told to draw a picture of themselves and write a word or two down that best described themselves. Seven crappy drawings came back and seven brief descriptions. Hat, Girly Hair, Lip Ring, Ginger Army, Patchy Beard, Girl With Patchy Beard and I Say Stupid Things. “Is this some kind of psychological test you’re doing” says one of them. “Where you decide what kind of people we are based on the way we draw ourselves?” Yes, and you’ve failed. Based on these remedial scratchings Los Campesinos! have the artistic

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Tom Campesinos! in

2 Sugar Shocker!

GENESIS

The band began to take shape when lead guitarist Tom joined a loose set-up that included bassist Ellen, guitarist Neil and drummer Ollie, but didn’t really have any direction. Tom brought to the group a songwriting ability that they’d been morbidly lacking and turned them into a real band with real songs. With the original vocalist politely relieved of duties and indie-hero in the making Gareth promoted from the bench, Los Campesinos! as we know them burst out of their amniotic sac, picking up violinist Harriet and singer / keyboardist Aleks as they sped towards their ﬁrst gig. “We booked the ﬁrst gig in the students union before we even had any real songs written” tells Ellen. “As the gig got closer we just kept on saying to each other, ‘it’s getting closer guys, shit, shit, we’d better sort ourselves out!”

! A H TC

“It was all a bit of a shambles really”, says Gareth. “We were sound-checking and the people who were doing the sound – I think they were just students – we’re like, you’re going to have to do it without the violin.” “I was like, no, please let me play!” adds Harriet, clearly still traumatised by

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STAR SECRETS! Ollie sinos! Campe ly at

week does his finds they s he LIDL, a od selection go a e v lue ha great va and are ey! for mon

the thought of missing out. She played, they went down a storm and things moved on from there. “That was probably the most rehearsed we’ve ever been for a gig!” laughs Tom. “For our second gig, we hardly rehearsed at all and we were shit. We got complacent quickly, which means we don’t have to worry about that in the future.” COVERING The reviews for the first gig were good (and handily written by Ellen’s flatmate), and they quickly moved on to playing at one of Cardiff’s premier venues, Clwb Ifor Bach. “We played on a stage, we’d made it!” says a wide-eyed Gareth. The next step was take their ramshackle posturings out on the open road. “We’ve played London, Bradford and Manchester”, says Tom. “That was our ‘tour’”, chips in Ellen. “Our little tour on our little bus and our friend Ryan driving - who is a questionable driver. It was raining really heavily at one point and he decided to turn the windscreen wipers off just to see how bad it was raining.” “We were in the back”, says Tom, “and Ryan said ‘you can’t see anything if you turn the wipers off’, and we were going TURN THEM BACK ON, TURN THEM BACK ON! We thought we were going to die!” And what a tragedy it would have been. Not the loss of life - hell we all gotta go sometime – but the timing. While Los Campesinos! were teaching the North a new dance, the internet was going spastic for the handful of tracks Tom had posted

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on the band’s Myspace page. They were, you might say, becoming something of a phenomenon. YOU AND ME DANCING “It was all quite strange”, says Gareth. “A friend of mine posted a thread about us on Drownedinsound, and most threads die on their arses, but ours got hundreds of responses.” “We’d been out that night, and it had been quite embarrassing because the DJ had played our song”, says Harriet, before Gareth butts back in. “We got in, and we were a bit pissed so we checked Drownedinsound and Myspace and people were going mad!” “It’s diﬃcult with these things though,” says the ever pragmatic Tom, showing signs of the savvyness which saw straight through our Zimbardo-style psych-test earlier. “People start talking about you on forums and people start writing blogs, and because these things snowball they’re not an

Aleks sinos! . Campe gs

ru fan of d is a big them all the es She tak hasn’t had a d n a . time ce 2003 cold sin

27/11/06 11:08:20

Get The L.C. Look! with Neil Campesinos!

Pasty!

T-Shirt!

Jeans! Trainers!

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accurate representation of how you are doing or how good you really are.” How they’re doing and where they are is this: Theyy left Cardiff for the summer holidays. No gigs, no practice, no nothing. “It was hard to feel like you were in a band,” says Neil. The internet though, w serves two functions. It’s an archive and it’s a ser community, and it doesn’t care if you haven’t had a jam for four months, because if your music is uploaded and people want to talk about you they’re going to, and so the hype continued in their absence. “It was strange”, says Ollie, “because I was in Greenland for four months over the summer, er, so to come back and get all th this crazy stuff going on was we weird. Tom sent me this message sayingg we were supporting Broken n Social Scene and we’d been on n Radio One and it was just men ntal. I was meant to stay with my parents for a couple of weeks butt I was like ‘can’t stop, I’ve got to get strraight backk to Cardiff!’” And that pretty much brings gs us bangg up to date. The bloodhound ds of the industry convened in Cardiff Bay and Los Campesinos! were courted d by the lot. They whittled it down to on ne, and singed to… “Well we haven’t actually signed yet, yet it’s going to happen very shortly but we don’t want to curse anything by saying

Ellen sinos! Campe the

in ht right is caug inal act m ri c of the le d rime. id m . It’s a c d g n ti s o ck an of flyp al. It’s ro It’s illge ! roll

27/11/06 11:08:28

who or what, it would be the biggest egg on the smallest face,” says an unusually reserved Gareth. “The important thing was for any label we chatted to understand we want to finish our degrees first – we’re students first and foremost and the music thing is secondary.” By the time this article is read, the ink will have dried, so we feel safe we can tell you that the band have signed to Wichita, home of Bloc Party and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. A shrewd move thinks Kruger, on both parts. So when can we expect the album? “The album and most things are on hold till we pass our degrees basically,” says Gareth. “By the time the album comes out we will be looking at probably late 2007, early 2008.” “We’re quite wary of being a flash in the pan thing because of all the hype. I think if we tried to capitalise on it too much it could go wrong,” says Tom. “But if the songs are good it won’t matter when they are released, so we just have to make sure the they are” adds Gareth. And if they are good, then the sky really is the limit for Los Campesinos!, and with it, all the wonderful things that fame brings: Holidays in the Priory, Paparazzi in the rose bushes, sordid kiss-and-tells. How close are we to that today? “We’re not really that interesting”, says Aleks, “so there isn’t really anything to say.” “Los Campesinos! is wheat intolerant!” offers Harriet, and a snigger goes around the group. “Just wait till the smack habits start”, says Gareth. “Then you’ll have something interesting to say.”

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Harriet Campesinos! in ‘No Helmet’ shocker!

How It All Went Right... • Ellen, Ollie and Neil pick up some instruments and lo, a band is born. • Top Cat required: Tom takes charge. • We want to be pretentious and fey!’ - Enter Gareth • A million indie-boy hearts skip a beat: Aleks checks in. • Did someone say strings? Harriet completes the line-up • Set of abiding indie belters written • Tom posts thread on Drownedinsound • Someone on youtube dances to that song • The internet has a spastic seizure. • Blogosphere declares Los Campesinos! the rightful heirs to Graceland • Muso sycophants (not us, obviously) clamber for piece of ass / pie • Support Broken Social Scene to room full of said sycophants (we weren’t there) • Sign to Wichita. • Remember that they’ve got lectures in the morning.

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27/11/06 11:08:47

KELLY STOLTZ SubPop song-smith Kelley Stoltz has claimed his innocence during questioning over his alleged day-light robbery of Echo and the Bunnymen record Crocodiles. Words by Emily Payne In 2001, New York resident Stoltz, 35, swiped every last track of the above-mentioned album and re-recorded them for his own twang-fest, cunningly entitled Crockodials. This was the first time an artist has stolen another group’s work in this way and Stoltz, a walking one-manband with a lazy voice not dissimilar to Steve Malkmus, just seemed to brush it under the carpet, calling it “harmless fun.” When interrogated he said: “I made Crockodials because I loved that band as a kid. At the time I just wasn’t turning out any good work. One day I started to fiddle around with the first song of the Bunnymen record - and suddenly it was like I was having fun again.” When asked how the plot was hatched, he replied: “I had a friend over in New Jersey – Spiral Stair [of Pavement fame] who was into them too,

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so I did the track for him. I thought I’d just be passing it on, you know like a tribute band thing! But he loved it and we started touring with it for a laugh. We had a fog machine and I spoke in a Liverpudlian accent! The great thing was, we ended up playing that show for the CMJ festival in New York and Will Sergeant [Bunnymen] came along… he was chuffed.” So did Stoltz, who describes his music as “experimental pop-stuff that’s not heavy, and not completely tripped out,” think he’d get away with filching off others when his own ideas ran dry? The silken-voiced song-writer said there was an ulterior motive behind his musical thievery. As a firm believer in all things ecologically sound, Stoltz saw no harm in “recycling” the work of a great band. If anything, he was decreasing the ma-hussive eco-footprint left by the music industry as a whole. “Every story I read in the paper is about global warming. It is happening, but by and large people just don’t believe it. I feel like I’m in the second wave of people who is trying to do something about it after the hippies.” Is he for real? Well, judging by the events that followed, yes he is. In 2004, Stoltz protested further to the rising wastefulness of the music industry, by self-releasing his second album,

Antique Glow (which, like all his work was recorded on an 8-track) - there were only 200 vinyl LPs, crafted by the artist’s own fair hands, and the copies were only distributed among the musician’s friends and family. “I know they have perfected ways of doing things with technology,” Stoltz said of his behind-the-times sensibilities. “But if I record on a computer I end up making elevator music. With tape I know where I am.” Stoltz signed to SubPop in 2005 who took quite a shine to the reluctant low-fi hero. His first album with the label, Below the Branches (a sweet melodic thing, awash with Beach Boysish sentimentality) is the first record in history with an on-package claim to be produced entirely using renewable energy. The album was recorded at home, and the electricity used in its making was tracked with the help of the Bonneville environmental foundation – and following his lead, SubPop declared themselves a “green” record label. So it was clear from the start, and throughout his steadily-rising career that this is a good-old fashioned lad, who set aside the technological advances of his industry to remain quaintly ignorant. Not, one might say, the typical attributes of a common thief. Illustration by Paul Ryding

27/11/06 11:08:54

Stoltz in Court Yesterday

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27/11/06 11:08:59

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27/11/06 11:09:05

AT THE MOVIES The Rock The Bells documentary shows the highlights of over 200 hours worth of footage shot of an ambitious hip-hop festival aiming to reunite the notoriously difficult to gather Wu-Tang Clan, for a show supported by a cast of challenging, conscious and downright talented rap and DJs stars from across the U.S for one day of music history. Amongst the lighters-in-the-air performances are behind the scenes footage of the fans, arriving rap stars and concert promoter Chang Weisberg and his Guerrilla Union events team trying desperately to keep everything from turning into a big pile of shit. There are moments that reaﬃrm your faith in the ability of raw hip-hop to shock and amaze, and there are others that you nibble your knuckles to, hoping that disgruntled fans don’t evolve into

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a bloodthirsty mob / organised gaggle of juicedup lunatics. Highlights include the woefully undermanned arena security barricades buckling outside, fans being taken away in ambulances as freestyle genius Supernatural - plus son - school the 8,000+ assembled fans in the ancient art of spontaneous, unscripted rap. And the sure-to-be Oscar winning scenes of complicated rap artist Sage Francis, plus wig and Stars and Stripes flag (the stars omitted in favour of corporate logos), holding court about the war on terror and the hypocrisy of your average rap fan (and being continuously bottled for his troubles). Is it a fly-on-the-wall documentary of promoter Chang Weisberg’s selfless attempt to overcome

all obstacles in Wu-Stock’s way and harness the positive spirit of hip-hop to put on the ultimate show? Or is more like a Biblical-plague-of-locustson-the-wall ﬁlm that shows once and for all that hip-hop fans are fucking idiots and that Chang himself staged an event above and beyond his means, narrowly missing out on having the salty blood of crushed fans on his hands? We’ve assembled a round table discussion group (like the ones on Newsnight) to throw both sides of the story on the wall and see which one sticks.

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Roy: Bollocks! You were a man at sea. Instead of closing down the show and burning every rap cassette you own you chose to get into the crowd outside and calm them down. Those are the actions of a man at his wits end.

Roy Spencer (head of Mothers Against Hip-Hop) Chang Weisberg, I put it to you that you put on a show that was dangerous! Your venue and its staﬀ can’t have ever been prepared for nearly 10,000 rap fans baying at them from behind a ﬂimsy fence. What you did was reckless… Chang Weisberg (concert promoter): No. I didn’t think it would get as out of control as that. We’ve done shows for 50,000 people, shows for 600 people and sometimes you just never know what’s going to happen, but you try to prepare. We sensed that the security company couldn’t get as many guards as they promised they would and that’s kind of what happens when a few areas fall apart, and you do what ever you can to keep it together when it’s bursting at the seams.

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Chang: I approached the gig as a fan of hip-hop. There is no better way of doing it. If we were just another corporate promoter it wouldn’t have worked. I’d rather be doing that and getting out into the crowd to calm things down, than, you know pushing paper. Roy: Ha! Well, yes. What about pushing a death certiﬁcate in a grieving mother’s hand? What about that! Well!

Chang Weisburg

Chang: I don’t want a bunch of kids getting hurt at the end of the day. Sometimes I wonder just how that translates on ﬁlm, you know? If I was the evil guy or the good guy? At the end of the day that probably becomes one of the most important performances in the history of hip-hop, it being the last one with ODB and the entire crew. At the end of the day the concert… I’m really proud of it…the way it went down, not so proud of it. But it’s what happened, it’s honest.

The Rza

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Moneyshot: Exactly. I’d wager that to your average audience member, it looked like a show run with military precision.

DJ Moneyshot (pro-rap fan and all round non-antagonising media pawn) Chang, you realised the impossible dream – the entire Wu-Tang on one stage, Old Dirty included. I only wish I had Alzheimer’s so I could have my memory of the show cruelly erased from my mind, only to sit down and watch it for the ﬁrst time all over again. It wasn’t all that bad. You can’t make an omelette for that many hungry hip-hop heads without smashing a few hundred eggs all over their faces along the way. Chang Weisberg (concert promoter): When you see something like that you get a skewed version of reality. It is a documentary.

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Chang: It’s funny. 90% of the people at the show didn’t know what happed at the show, what happened at the front gate. They had no idea that people rushed the front gate. My publicist watched the film and was like ‘oh, my God, I had no idea that was going on.’ And I said ‘that’s good.’ So most of the people who got in, the kids who waited an hour, because Wu was an hour late on stage, they had no idea what we were going through to get these guys to show up. Moneyshot: And the film shows that, warts and all, and makes for gripping viewing. Chang: It’s good that people enjoyed a bit of the craziness. The film was quite odd for me to share, everything we were doing…you know, not all our shows are like that, you know what I mean. Sometimes you deal with situations that come up, and you gotta do what you gotta do, you know?

Some Wu-Tang Fans

FINAL THOUGHT The biggest conclusion that you can draw from this documentary is that it’s no easy ride staging a gig of any proportions and of any genre. Chang and his Guerrilla Union crew would have put the show on if they had to hold the stage together with Sellotape and perform mime themselves in lieu of any acts turned up. That’s testament to the unwavering love they all have for their chosen music and the responsibility they have to give the crowd their money’s worth. Shit did go down, a riot nearly occurred. The venue security were unprepared and under trained for an event that elicits so much energy and activity from its audience. And at the end of the day that’s something that this ﬁlm captures and puts down for all to see.

27/11/06 11:09:32

Lifestyle

Heartwarming Tale AT HOME WITH FIONN REGAN Fionn Regan didn’t have a typical upbringing. Born to an artist mother and musician father, Regan grew up on the coastal outskirts of Dublin in what could be described as a hive of creative and ramshackle vigour. His debut album, The End of History, is imbued with beguiling tales and glowing images which belie such a young writer. From the single Penny in the Slot, pregnant with literary references that conjure images of early Dylan, to the painfully penetrating Be Good or Be Gone, Regan has created an album which The Guardian called “as spellbinding as anything his imagination can conjure up”, The Fly said was “a singular and original vision of folk’s shining modernity”, and which has put him very much at the forefront of his genre. And you thought that the only way to make art was to hate your parents and rebel? Regan has taken his idiosyncratic early years as a benchmark, and is building a career as individual as mum and dad would have hoped. “I grew up in a house populated by songwriters and poets and drunkards and pilots. There was a huge amount of diﬀerent people moving in. If you can imagine an old house these days and it’s split into apartments 1,2,3 and 4, well there was no sort of split between it, everybody was intertwined and it was an amazing way to grow up, a very creative way. It’s deﬁnitely worked its way in, from the traditional music to the American folk, people coming and going all the time and falling asleep every night listening to it”.

He’d wake in the morning desperate to recreate the sounds that had sung him to sleep, so would hide under the piano at the bottom of the stairs when everyone thought he had left for school, waiting for an empty house. “That’s where it all began. My parents had always encouraged me to play around on the different instruments lying around the house, and it was on that piano, away in my own world where I wrote my first songs and became a musician”. Taking that musicianship into the real world has meant a change of reality, which for Regan is the necessity of a life on the road. “At the moment I don’t really have a break from any tour. One runs into the next and so on. From Cornwall to Dublin to Stockholm and Oslo, all across Europe and then back to Ireland for a headline tour, and then over to America and then over to Australia. I haven’t really had any time off in about three months now. On the days when I’m not playing, I have press days, so it’s pretty non-stop.” As he’s aware though, it’s the touring and the

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publicity which have garnered such buzzing appraisal from industry and fans alike. That’s the power of the press ladies and gentlemen, but also the reaction that a special record can produce. “I ﬁnd it all amazing. The thing is, there are so many records now, and there are so many songwriters, and everyone is trying to get their foot onto the boat, you know, or into a telephone box, you know what I mean? There’s a small space for a lot of people, so to generate that response is amazing, people turning up to gigs and singing the words. Considering a year ago I was struggling to try and ﬁnish the record and keep a roof over my head, it feels like such a release.” The album found a home on Bella Union, ex Cocteau Twin Simon Raymonde’s label, because, as Regan says, “they were the only label who didn’t want to change me at all. They heard the album and understood who I was and what I was trying to do. They’re a small label, and maybe if I was on a bigger label then they’d have more money to promote me and advertise the album, but I’m not, so the only thing to do is to keep touring and keep playing. I don’t mind though, it’s a small price to pay for being allowed to be myself.”

27/11/06 11:09:36

Fionn Regan Playing The Guitar

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27/11/06 11:09:42

Lifestyle

Celeb-Horoscopes Sagittarius:

IMITATION ELECTRIC PIANO As the sun moves into the ninth house of the Zodiac, we welcome the insatiable appetites of the Archer, helping us to aim a little higher and dream a little longer through this long-night’s time. Those of you with artistic tendencies would do well to focus on the immutable musical delights of Imitation Electric Piano. Back in 1999, in the shadow of the solar eclipse, Stereolab’s bassist Simon Johns began his side project. Until now, oﬀerings from this collective have been vocal-free but their latest long-player, Blow it up, burn it down, kick it ‘til it bleeds (released October 16th ’06) is most notable for

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the ethereal vocals found in Brighton folk singer, Mary Hampton and her indisputable similarity to Pentangle’s Jacqui McShee. Having found, of late, that instruments alone could not express his words, their ruler Johns involves the vocals to give the elements of the music more equal parts of the song. The result is a more simple clarity than before; this use of singular voice weaves a central thread through several synths, impulsive drums and sometimes bizarrely, progressive rock, bringing everything together into a more rational sound, whilst still staying unmistakably electronic. Evidently, the positions of musicians within the band are not so much temporary as variable and seem quite ﬂuid. The on stage line-up only resembles that of the album’s contributors but considering most of the tracks were laid, cottageindustry style, in the bedroom of its creator, the creation remains the same.

Johns is feeling rather positive about the aspects of his life these days, his knowledge of the turning tables enables him to roam far and wide, keeping his fingers dutifully but willingly in many pies. He is simply, grateful to be working, modestly for himself and happily, his future is without foreseeable boundaries. With Stereolab now retrograde for the next year, no doubt fans will find solace in the company of Imitation Electric Piano, who will be free to celebrate their new found independence with some live shows in the New Year. Call my Star Line* now to find out where they’ll be appearing next. Interstellar musings by Laura Byding-Citizen Illustration by Eleanor Stevenson www.myspace.com/imitationelecticpiano

27/11/06 11:09:50

M22

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27/11/06 11:09:54

SPORTS SECTION

SEAL CUB CLUBBING CLUB The challenge that is likely to emerge from the shores of West Kirby to the upper reaches of the medal table in the forthcoming National Swimming Gala is, on this cold and rainy morning in October, in full bloom. We find ourselves at Caldy Swimming Pool, where the boys are putting themselves through an early morning session.

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The development of Team Seal Cub Clubbing Club began inauspiciously enough, on the beach in the summer of 2003 when Nik Glover, Andy Thompson, Si Stephens, John Biddle and Andy Rostron performed as a team for the ďŹ rst time in front of friends at an illegal beach party. This led to events at some of the more renowned clubs of Liverpool, and helped them attract both management and an agent by the end of the summer season 2005. The team continued to put in some sterling live performances regionally which resulted in a sponsorship deal from newly formed company Nomadic Records, supplying enough funding to enable EP1 in November 2005 and EP2 in the spring of this year.

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“The first EP E we just recorded what we thought were our fo four best songs. We’d never been in a proper st studio before, we’d never worked with a prod producer, we didn’t have the space to set up live so everything had to be done in this bizarre set-up; Andy would be on his drums in a little soundproofed room that totally killed the acoustics of his kit, then my amp would be in between that room and the desk, in a corridor. Nik was standing next to me, with his amp in a little store room behind us, and John was plugged into a pod, a little gadget that is supposed to copy the sound of an amp. Overall the recordings have no soul. There’s complete separation, something that we wanted to get away from for the album.” Nik continues: The Seal Cub Clubbing Club have just finished their swimming session, and Si (guitar) is slipping off a yellow rubber glove he’s been sporting for the past hour. “I’ve got a hand veruca,” he says. “Verucas all over my hand, it’s like a jam sandwich under this…” Jam hand-wich or not they’ve been pretty well behaved, apart from occasional underwater handstands and what was once referred to on pool-posters as ‘bombing’ and ‘ducking’. There is a competitive dynamic in the band; someone opts to fall stick-solid, stroke-sideways off the diving board. Immediately there is a bustling line of them all prepared to wait, all rushing to outdo the others. The album was the same, Nik (vocals) tells me.

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“We all got into this habit in France (where most of their album was recorded) of going oﬀ alone and writing little individual bits for diﬀerent songs. I spent hours chopping up this old electric organ into a broken beat bit; I came back and John (bass) had written this whole storybook synth thing on a Micro-Korg. That was the spirit the album was recorded in; he’d heard me from downstairs, overheard the rough thing I was aiming for and had gone away and made this beautiful little thing that sounded like the Phantom of the Opera.” Which is a considerably more comfortable set-up than they had recording their EPs as Si explains to me.

“For the album we changed producer. The EPs were done by Paul Tipler, who was used to working with very skilful bands, he’d done a lot of Stereolab’s stuﬀ. We never turned up with a set idea of what we wanted to do, or how we could achieve it. For the album we were introduced to Barny (Simon Barnicott) who had mixed the Arctic Monkey’s and Kasabian. He’d never produced an album on his own before, but he has vast experience in the studio. He helped us immensely.” The band were sent to Parkgate Studios in Hastings. It was high summer, 32 degrees every day, and they found it hard to settle down.

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SPORTS SECTION “In a way we settled in a little too comfortably,” says John. “They had a pool table. And a big TV.” d sit around while one “We’d just play pool and person was doing theirr bit. Then one day Barny ly wanted to do this you’d be said to us ‘if you really constantly bugging me to get you ways to record er that things got better. We got on your own’. After rny helped us set up little work to France and Barny uld be messing around on Pro stations so we could ng out ideas.” Tools all day, trying The album took a month to record. Any regrets? ith a longer list of songs,” “I wish we’d gone in with says Andy T. “Some of the best stuff we did came ngs we’d worked from the smallest ideas, not songs out and played live over and over, stuff we’d come up with from messing around. The song I think we’re all proudest of is Song For Haku. We’d already recorded a couple of verses for that in a previous session: we got to France with no idea of where we could go with it. We sat down individually and came up with loads of ideas and they fitted. We’ve just learnt to play it live, it’s the kind of thing I’ve always wanted to play.” There are murmurs of approval from the others. Nik pipes up: “It’d be nice to have more time next time around; it’s probably true that the better you do with your first album, the less time you have to record the second. We got a month and a bit, maybe 6 weeks to do this one. If it does

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well, maybe we’ll get a couple of weeks here and there between touring. Obviously we all want it to do well.” I force the influences question. They come out spora sporadically, loosely. It sounds like they’re all trying to remember the last album they ‘went wild’ to, as John puts it. “It sounds… coming from someone from the f Wirral, but I fucking love the first Coral album.” There is agree agreement. “I’m proper into Tom Waits momen adds Nik. Si and Andy R love at the moment” Re Dub and Reggae, Andy R loves Techno. “Jeff o stuff, and Laurent Garnier.” Andy Mills sort of an T likes anything ‘hard and fast’. “Clutch; Foo Fighters Rage Against The Machine.” There is Fighters, pa a particularly loud murmur of approval for this one. “Rage are unbelievable” adds Si. Nik adds a

Team Seal Cub in a swimming pool yesterday

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few more, Radiohead ‘until the last album, though 2+2=5 is a beast’; Beck, Super Furry Animals, a 2+2= big influe uence listening to some of the album’s more gentle moments. And a ‘personal crusade’ for Nik, US biz bizarre-rap group cLOUDDEAD. “They made on one of the greatest, perhaps the greatest album of the 2000’s so far, their debut. It sounds like noth nothing else. That is what I aim for, not copying the sound, trying to do something that makes peo people go - I don’t know what the fuck I just he heard but it’s beautiful and I want to hear it agai again.” And with that the first old ladies start spilling in for the next session. The band disappear to change back into their civvies. I meet them outside. I ask what the future olds for Team Seal. “We’re off to practice now, we’ve got to learn all the bits we did for the album that we’ve never played live,” Rostron is drying his long red locks. “We’re doing our first headline tour in November, and supporting Black Wire pretty much straight after, so there’s lots to do.” The competition is fierce. They’ve been compared to Radiohead, British Sea Power, Super Furry Animals, all luminaries of the more ‘offbeat’ indie outfit. If they can continue to perform at their current level there’s no reason they can’t join those bands in the Premier League. Words by Selby Strange SCCC photographed by Paul Tsanos

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27/11/06 11:10:11

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27/11/06 11:10:27

Reviews

KRUGER kruger12.indd 57

Various Artists This Town Ain’t Big Enough For The 22 Of Us Twisted by Design

Compilation CDs are not dissimilar to ‘concept albums’. A collection of songs with one theme running through them, linking them together, and creating a reason for their existence alongside each other and eventual consumption by attracted listeners. The reasons behind compiling a certain selection of tracks can vary from genre, to geographical origination. It’s my belief that for the creation of a compilation CD to be truly justified, there must be a justifiable concept behind it; otherwise you may as well be setting your iTunes to ‘shuffle’. The concept behind This Town… appears to rely on showcasing a selection of bands from Cardiff , and this is where the problems begin to arise. Despite the Welsh capital being surprisingly small, it is home to an extensive breadth of musical genres and artists; so where are the borders drawn? Looking at the CD case, the track-listing reads like the wall outside local venue, Clwb Ifor Bach. This is familiar territory.

with a couple of highlights, you’ll be hard pushed to find a poor track out of these 22. In fact, you’re more likely to be surprised by the sounds powering through your headphones or speakers from the opening sharp burst of Attack + Defend through the idiosyncratic art-noise created by Gindrinker, and on to some truly brilliant tunes. Occasionally, the album falters with a track suffering from poorer production than those neighbouring it, in the case of The Days, or a song which lacks a distinct individuality, as in the case of Moauga. The glorious Little My take us into the middle of the album and it all becomes rather twee, as if a shipment of glockenspiels headed to Sweden took a wrong turn and docked in Cardiff Bay. Although dipping into electronica with Hornby Pylons and basic

punk from Murder by Television, the bulk of this record is indie pop, a U-turn from the emo/post-hardcore tag usually attributed to the region. One highlight comes from uber-hyped Los Campesinos! and their mix of angular guitars, intricate melodies and ambiguous, yet relative lyrics, another from Spencer McGarry Season and a chorus so sharp it’s a hook itself . Hopefully this record will sell for the bigger names on its cover, leading the listener to uncover the range of talent contained within; from the soft sway of Silence at Sea to the driving power pop of Last Partisan; the light humour of Sweet Baboo to the dry wit of Shake My Hand; engaging more people into a scene which is clearly growing from strength to strength. Now that’s a concept. Jen Long

Wiping the technicalities aside, listening is almost as much justification as it needs. The first play is educational, by the second listen it’s a familiar friend, and past the third is now firmly in my CD player for the foreseeable future. The joyful surprise of this compilation is the almost continuous high quality of the music it comprises. Where other local releases such as The Farnborough Groove or Yorkollective often seemed to be mainly filler

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Reviews

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Various artists

Coldcut

Mira Calix

Florida Funk

SoundMirrors Vids and Remix

Eyes Set Against The Sun

Jazzman

Ninja Tune

Warp

I thought I didn’t like funk, probably because I’m always being subjected to the same generic crap blasting out of every bar in the Western hemisphere. This compilation is here to change that. These 22 tracks are the sort of quality nuggets you’d expect to hear from major-league diggers Gerald Jazzman and Malcolm Catto. So the sketch is that these are all tunes from 60s and 70s Florida’s funk and soul growth period. There’s a lot of James Brown’s far-reaching influence in amongst all the sweaty drums, heavy breaks and uber-soulful vocal performances here, but it makes sense to fill the gaps in history to give a fuller picture of the roots of modern soul and dance music. Most of the tunes would sound best in some fwilthy basement club dive drinking cheap rum but listening to them on your iPod on the train while drinking bottled water is nearly as good. Some of the gems are super-tight dancefloor tracks salvaged from vinyl dust oblivion, others are sloppier but all are fonky as ast week’s socks. It’s got Vanessa Kendrick’s wicked original version of the track made famous by Gwen McCrae two years later, 90% Of Me Is You. And if you’re looking for an alternative to Nina Simone’s version of Save Me (which incidentally is available on a Jazzman 7”) then try the male vocal version offered up here by James Knight & The Butlers. If you like DJ Shadow breaks, the Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings’ sound and want to trace the history of Nicole Willis & The Soul Investigators, this is the compilation for you. DM

Coldcut are a thousand years old. They started doing live pot-knocking for Eisenstein screenings and since have been a centrality within the visual and audible arts. They didn’t make these videos themselves, they handpicked some indies and as with most Ninja Tune videos, they’re spectacular. Shame about the music really. Fog’s bit is excellent but if you deejayed at Jesus’ bar mitzvah I suppose you’d get bored of everything and dancehall may seem feasible. The remixes are more Bleats & Faeces than Beats & Pieces but eyes are better than ears. Just ask Helen Keller. SR

Riddim fruitcake Lee “Scratch” Perry used to tape trees for a lark. On her third album, avantgarde auteur extraordinaire Mira Calix catapults foliage-fuelled field recordings to the centre of the canvas on tracks like otherworldly opener Because To Why, contrasting ominous elements - eerie bleeps, clicks & a mournful wailing violin – with the purity of a children’s choir, setting the whole brilliantly baffling bonanza against the trickle of melting snow. The haunting ambient jazz of Eeilo, the hypnotic orchestral stabs of The Way You Are When and Stockholm Syndrome’s primordial beat bombardment step out of the enchanted forest, but retain the unsettling atmosphere akin to transmissions from an alien landscape. Eyes Set Against The Sun is a daring plunge towards the outer limits of experimentation, balancing precariously between bewitching & wilfully obscure, but mostly pull it through to the more rewarding side of the fence. JO

The Long Blondes Someone to Drive You Home Rough Trade

Ironic observations on boy/girl encounters from the perspective of a knowing Jackie O, The Long Blondes deliver pacey pop songs about stealing boyfriends, make-up and desperate housewives. Leaning heavily on late 70s punk bands like Blondie and Television, vocalist Kate Jackson spins yarns about bus-stop romances over driving bass-lines and spiky call-and-response choruses. Tracks Giddy Stratospheres and Only Lovers Left Alive show Kate in her two favourite poses, deep seductive crooning and all out Siouxsie Sioux screeching. The Blondes really get going on Separated by Motorways - their Thelma and Louise story sang like The Ronettes on crystal meth. Individually the singles are strong, exciting pop songs, but as a whole the album becomes monotonous and narrowly avoids pastiche by virtue of its insightful lyrics. But that is inconsequential; the pure velocity of this record eventually blurs out its minor shortcomings ND.

Various Artists Cherrystones Word Compilation Popones

Famed for being London ’s foremost psychedelic hip-hop DJ, Gareth Goddard’s (Cherrystones) Word herds together some of his favourite killer cuts on one great-to- chew-even-better-to¬-share package. It’s a swirling psychedelic rapture of wahwah, driving bass, & lyrics about evil women driving their respective men insane. The tunes are short & snappy (16 tracks in their complete unmixed glory for iDJs/music purists) - standouts tracks from The Deviants, Midnight Circus & Brainbox. It’s energetic, driving, back to the roots stuff, & - at under a tenner - wicked value. Get your headphones on and shit the bed. HP

27/11/06 11:10:38

Various Artists

The Glimmers

Evils

50 Minutes

FabricLive 31

Give Me Evils EP

Exercise 1 Records

Fabric

Peski

Long-time advocators of the genre-combining/

Give Me Evils is some quality electronic shit. An

mashup dj style that’s ohsopopular right now, The

eclectic mixture of styles (Spinal-Tap sampling, honky-tonk-piano party-opener Have A Good Time; psychedelic bleepy wig-out of the Banjo-Uke Blues; melancholic sadness of twinkling galaxies in 650,000), the music has matured from The Pig Fucker EP while staying true to the left-field style you’d expect. It’s Have A Good Time that really stands out – excellently crafted underground dancefloor destruction so well produced it could have been plucked from the subconscious of Mylo McInnes himself. You’re gonna hear everybody banging on about this EP for the next few months; it’s so good I’ll be surprised if I’m not sick to the back teeth of hearing it/about it quite soon. For now though Evils most certainly lives, and he’s made a wendyhouse in my iPod. Given half a chance he might do the same to yours. HP

Sitting down to write an album review after a rather awful day at work, I’m thinking this better not be shit – you know, please. So I pop open the anonymously decorated case, whack the cd into the player & start listening to what turns out to be quite a delightful compilation that falls on just the right side of whimsical eclecticism. Bonus. This is thanks in no small part to the fact the nattily titled 50 Minutes consists of, you guessed it, 50 tracks, each 1 minute long. A healthy mixture of folk, ark rock, electro, indie-pop & hip-hop, this record never gets predictable & keeps the pace up. Tracks by upcoming bands The Hot Puppies, Attack +Defend & Youth Movie Soundtrack Strategies sit alongside unknown acts, as well as a treat of a tune by Daniel Johnston to provide an interesting listen. Proceeds of 50 Minutes go to the nice-and-clean sounding Medical Foundation, a charity raising funds to help victims of torture, but unlike those caring twats who’ll quite happily propel ‘Johnny and Denise’ to top of the charts for Children In Need, you’ll actually get something pretty good in exchange for your goodwill. This is not to say over the course of the fifty minutes there are no duds, as you’d expect quality control does vary, but the concise nature of the album means you rarely have time to dwell on the doosies and are too busy trying to skip back to find the real hidden gems, personal favourites include: Rachel Lipson, Ladyfuzz and Action Plan. All in all this is a well chosen, interesting collection of songs that celebrates creativity and diversity in the most effective way - quickly. Good work. LB

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Glimmers’ FabricLive release gives an 18 track musical history lesson (pay attention at the back) covering bases in these 80s-revivalist-electroclap-happy times: Roxy Music, Freddie Mercury, LCD Soundsystem, Prins Thomas. I’m a big fan of The Glimmers, but have found despite the quality of their releases it’s never quite the same as hearing them dj live – particularly if you’ve beer in one hand and wraps of speed in the other. Still a worthwhile listen though, especially for Pop Dell’ Arte’s blinding No Way Back. HP

Akira The Don When We Were Young Something in Construction

Pavement

Moustachioed rap fruit Akira The Don finally hits

Wowee Zowee (Reissue)

us with his kooky electro-pop-rock-hop album,

When We Were Young. Scanning the track listings (Thanks For All The Aids, Liverpool, Bankers) leaves you imagining what kind of upbringing the young Akira might have had. Thankfully the ever twisting variety of sonic backdrops and story telling tales run riot through the speakers, filling a colouring book of weird and wonderful scenes along the way to give you a good idea, deliberately going over the edges with his felt tips, but getting full marks for effort. DM

Domino Records

I listened to Wowee Zowee on tape in the car on the way to my first ever gig (Ash & The 60ft Dolls at Southampton Guildhall. My mate’s mum driving. Sweet memories). It was a chaotic, unglued mess that was dammed in the music press by confused critics but went on to shift over 100k copies. A glorious revelation in the lo-fi darkness of preCrooked Pavement, this super-duper-deluxereissue contains the original remastered album plus 35 bonus tracks & a 64 page book. Relive the old times or fill the blanks in your music history. HP

27/11/06 11:10:43

Reviews

ALBUM kruger12.indd 60

We Are Three Electrowerkz, Islington

Radio 4

Octave One (Kingpin)

The Roadhouse, Manchester

Timbuk2, Bristol

13/10/06

03/11/2006

13/10/2006

I went to my first squat party recently. It was just like the Prodigy’s No Good video. Whitewashed walls, techno, crusties, techno, ratty dogs on string, techno. But unlike the video, it had that thinly-veiled air of post-millennial menace, which now seems inescapable. Nineties raving was about collectivism, optimism and (cliché!) Respect. Everything was going to be ok, we’d never felt like this before - together, we could conquer anything, as long as the music kept playing. Neoravers Bangface want 90s culture back. Badly. The only problem is, the 90s are dead, we’re not safe any more, and things are definitely not going to be ok. A worn and wrinkly Ellis Dee played the same tunes he’s played for the last decade. There was the same dj-booth floozie, the same sweaty guy with eyes like a king charles spaniel, and the same pillheads looking like they’d just scratched through a coffin lid with their fingernails. But it’s not the same. Dressing up is now a competition, not a celebration. Coked-up girls take photos of themselves with digital cameras and phones, watching images of themselves having a sexy time. The “look-at-me” self-absorption climaxes when A Guy Called Gerald takes the stage. A chubby Lily Allen clone and her sweaty friends immediately obscure him. They’re all convinced the crowd are here to watch them jiggle and gurn, rather than the forefather of the genre they’re aping. Bangface gets so lost in pomp and paraphernalia it loses sight of the music and the message. It’s tempting to reward good intentions, but good intentions are the devil’s paving stones. JA

Currently riding the wave of new interest in prickly post-punk, Radio 4 are in the ascendancy after four albums. Their sound is between the spiny ska-influenced fire engines, and the ice-cold funk of can, and this eccentric approach fits in well with the roadhouse’s grimy charm. The start of their set is fairly tame; the crowd are interested, but not yet electrified. About a third of the way in though, Radio 4 become rather excellent. They’re clearly more effective live when they vamp spikily around the beat rather than during their more conventionally structured songs. The post-punk revival is often criticised for excising the politics that was such an important part of the original movement, but this charge cannot be levelled at Radio 4. Their songs are frequently focused on controversy, and it is refreshing to see a band unafraid to celebrate their politics in these centrist times. DO

Forearmed with the knowledge that Detroit techno

Bangface xxxvii -

legends Octave One (430 west) are headlining, it is fair to say that i am pretty excited. Down the rickety stairwell, a series of arches cover a sea of sweatily grooving clubbers as Kingpin’s infamous residents start the proceedings. As the anticipation builds, cue 1am, the lights dim ... and the show begins. For 2 solid hours, the Burden brothers show exactly why they are renowned the world over, bringing the broth to the boil and turning the night on its head. In a word, class. OK

Ghostface Killah Lex Records 5th Birthday 13/10/2006

Arriving at the venue I decided my walk wasn’t gangsta enough, thank god I saw Defoe, so he could

The Young Knives

bite my hip. It was just a nibble and didn’t even leave

Barfly, Cardiff

a mark. So i trotted in, bald, overweight, half cut.

21/10/2006

My normal self really. I saw the game who cowered,

It’s a beans-on-toast of gigs; take one part eccentrically entertaining pop group, two parts press hype, throw in a host of catchy, angular tunes & mix together on a saturday night. However, the secret ingredient in tonight’s performance from the Young Knives is their self-reflexive, witty recognition of this formula, taunting the crowd as much as each other. ‘Is this is a post-modern statement?’ you wonder, as house of lords attempts a micro stage jump. He slips, catching his back on the stage corner. “You fucking spastic” retorts Henry. ‘No’, you realise, it’s just bloody good fun. JL

he knew who i was, my reputation precedes me in the hood, I told him “don’t turn this rape into a murder, bitch.” When our man Ghostface came on, he was rocking it, when he spotted me, decided I was the man to make the show unforgettable and we battled. After 10 minutes of kicking his ass verbally things got nasty, I had to pin him down and tell him i would fuck him until he loved me. At that point, I woke up with a stained bed and realised I was too pissed to review a gig. JG

27/11/06 11:10:48

The Heights

Koop

Jamie T

Ny2lon, New york

Jazz Café, London

Barfly, Cardiff

04/11/2006

30/10/2006

25/10/2006

North Wales’ buzzworthy garage act plucked their guitars with a breakneck pace for the closer of the CMJ music marathon at the la-di-da NY2LON nightclub in Brooklyn this weekend. Industry “insiders,” meanwhile, hopped up on cheap beer and a bad case of apathy, foisted themselves on banisters with arms contemptuously crossed. After a week of listening to the best college radio has to offer, the insiders had little room to stomach the heights. Those snooty bastards didn’t even clap at the end of each song. The applause was so scattered, in fact, you could hear baby crickets being born. The Heights’ following act Poor Things, a Moog-heavy prog band from the UK as well, didn’t rouse the insiders’ attention, either. The Heights became so frustrated that they greeted one prolonged silence with a “fuck you, fuckin’ yanks, I get paranoid when no one dances,” it was the highlight of their show. The songs themselves, were scraggly retro-fitted with the makings of something halfway listenable. You could picture pitchfork music writers racking their brain cells for clever metaphors (“er, they kind of sound like The Strokes and they’re British. The British Strokes?!”) If The Heights are going to be hailed as the British Strokes, they’re going to have to do something about their fashion sense. On the band’s myspace page, their snazz-o-meter is seriously defected, torn between a leather-clad rebel without a cause and a happy days cast reunion. Who knows though? Maybe The Heights’ previous Spin Mag Halloween show across town at Fontana’s went off without a hitch. At least, the insiders got a free Spin for their troubles. JH

London’s jazz café was an appropriate setting for the sultry jazz of Sweden’s infamous crossdressing producers, Koop. Touring new album Koop Islands (a reinvention of rhythms from 1930s swing to 1940s cape verdean blues), the band were tight, with Yukimi Nagano’s smoky vocals as powerful live as recorded. New tracks were interspersed with crowd favourites (Summer Sun & Bright Nights), & Gilles Peterson (despite standing on my foot while squeezing through the crowd) played an energetic set after Koop had finished. I then got really pissed with my mates & woke up the next day with a headache. Marvellous. HP

It’s hard to remain cheerful when you’re stood shivering outside cardiff barfly with only a crumpled piece of paper to get you into the warmth, but finally, the doors opened and we were in. Hoorah. Jamie T’s entrance was quiet, but suddenly the long wait and crush at the front were only minor issues. The set started, & blew me away - there’s nothing like a room full of people all singing in unison eh? It was a great gig, plus with that cute ‘save the dolphins’ cap, he even had my mum’s approval! HW

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Get Cape.Wear Cape.Fly Islington Academy

Mr Lif The Thekla,Bristol 25/10/2006

If I have to pay £8 to see satirical sketches I want Chris Morris putting his children into filing cabinets not Mr Lif dramatising how poor he is in front of white, middle classed red brick students. If I want to fill a boat with said McWhite people for £8 a head my head would be cut off for £8 and I refuse to pay to for a Bill Cosby episode, with Rich Pryor I’d have maybe been prepared to fund his whole crack habit. I would have to draw the line at Eddie Murphy’s trans-sexual whore bill, but Pryor is VFM. Lif is an incredible emcee. His beats are sublemon, his flow is Euphrates but middle class white boys cheering because a black man is slagging off their grandparents is either semiological genius or the scene is fucking dead. SR

25/10/2006

It’s not often you see an acoustic-guitar-wielding troubadour fiddling with the sequences on a laptop, is it? Sam Duckworth, aka get cape . Wear cape . Fly is renowned for breaking out against the norms of his electronic indie genre. Tonight, duckworth offers up some of the same socio-political sentiment found on his feisty debut chronicles of a bohemian teenager (while sweating visibly on-stage: “it’s either really hot in here or i’m really unfit,” he quips). He may not have the maturity of Billy Bragg or the humour of Chris T-T live, but songs like children are the consumers of the future and war of the worlds have a poignancy that grabs hearts and minds in tonight’s crowd. It’s just a shame the message was lost in a bizarre encore that involved an über-funk/ camp version of s.o.a.p’s ‘abracadabra’. That was just plain weird. AD

27/11/06 11:10:53

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27/11/06 11:11:03

DEATH FROM ABOVE 1979

CURSED BY

KRUGER Words by Suzie Wild

“Guilty Fuckers” and “Kruger = Murderers” are just some of the placards being wielded outside the Kruger Garage by bugeyed lunatics. 2006 has seen the death of several Kruger featured bands, and in the angry mob’s eyes, there is only one direction to focus their hatred. Death From Above 1979 and Adequate 7 are just two of the latest acts to be struck down by what the angry masses are calling The Curse Of Kruger! What they don’t realise is that we are grieving too, we didn’t mean to do it and we can’t, sniff, stop, sniff, crying, boo hoo hoooooooooo.

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(2002-2006)

The terminal illness ﬁnally squeezed the last breath from the friendship behind pop band in wolf ’s clothing, Death From Above 1979. The duo have been in and out of hospital and doctors gave them less than a year to live at the tail end of 2005. Despite this the Toronto twosome, Sebastien Granger (vocals/drums) and Jesse F. Keeler (bass/synths) agreed to paint on a brave face and perform scheduled tour dates so that the good people working for them wouldn’t go homeless or without Christmas presents. The strain eventually became too much and, only speaking to each other during press interviews, the band suddenly keeled over when their album went Gold in Canada. Refusing label requests to get a lead guitarist, DFA’s career rocketed from a ﬁrst gig playing their down and dirty primal punk in a Long Island living room to performing their last in the Calgary Saddledome for 12,000 frenzied fans. The pair met at a Sonic Youth gig, although a prison or a gay bar are also rumoured to have brought the two together. Before the fall out they lived happily together in a funeral home where their embalmed corpse now lies. Jesse tried to reassure his tearful fans with last words: “It’s not sad. It would be more sad if we kept playing the same songs for 40 years like the Rolling Stones, for me that would be a nightmare.” True, but we’re still gutted.

27/11/06 11:11:09

MARTINI HENRY RIFLES

CREAMY FIST!

ADEQUATE 7

2003-2006

(2000–2006)

(2000-2006) Superbastards die! The Cardiff bad boy’s brand of distorted ASBO gunfire plucked them out of former lives working in a dildo factory to release their first single Kill/Summer/Shit. This got them a manager in the form of Sean McClusky and lived out their punk rock wet dream by signing to local label FF Vinyl in a lap-dancing club. Their life of rock’n’roll excess sent the band running to real life rehab and cutting the fun short at the beginning of the year.

Creamy Fist! RIP. It is a black time as we mourn the death of the glossy that managed to perfectly combine absolute depravity and pure fun. We urge all our readers to spread the teachings and live their life by Creamy Fist’s manifesto: 1. Drinking is fun. 2. Fucking is funner. 3. And rock-n-roll is pretty cool. Next week: Buxom Blonde, our 19-yearold Liza from Lampeter demonstrates the manifesto in a pullout photo special.

LES INCOMPETENTS

CLOR

(2004-2006)

(2005-2006)

Parents sent out a TV appeal for the murderers of their children, band Les Incompetents, to step forward last night. Asking Police to throw the book at them, their heartbroken mother said: “I call for the exemplary punishment of those responsible for my children’s death.” The shambolically charming band vanished after vocalist Billy Bell was hospitalised by a violent attack. Our hearts go out to their family, especially new babies Ox.Eagle.Man. Lion and The More Assured.

Clor died in cockfight gone wrong. Signed to Parlophone after just six gigs and bored of the success of Club Clor and their new cult status, the duel guitarists Barry Dobbin and Luke Smith staged the event in a Brixton basement, putting Creativity up against Generic Pop. Generic Pop went crazy killing Creativity and the band in the bloodiest fight ever recorded. It was graphic and horrific readers, however with their brilliantly bemusing album Clor due for release in the States Clor’s star shall continue to shine brightly in the afterlife.

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Six years and 500 gigs after they exploded into the music world, Adequate 7 have gawn and bloody killed themselves. The Cardiff group that we said might be “the best live act in the world” died in sudden and unusual circumstances that the police are treating as suspicious. Scotland Yard told Kruger that a scruffy musician meeting Billy Def ’s description has been brought in for questioning after being spotted practising with satanic band I Scream! You Scream! (www. myspace.com/iscreamyouscreamband). AD7 made themselves nearly really famous, recording six sessions for the BBC and being named Zane Lowe’s ‘Hottest Record in the World’. It has been rumoured that last August’s no.18 single Splitting Up was their original suicide note but one of their best mates, who wishes to remain anonymous, told us: “That’s a load of bollocks!” The seven friends were believed to be members of the cult Bands Who Should Never Split Up But Will Anyway and tragically leave many distraught bastard children behind including three-year-old album Songs of Innocence and Experience and the six-month-old Here on Earth. EXCLUSIVE NEWS JUST IN: According to Kruger’s resident psychic, Morbid Martha, AD7 will return from the dead to play one last gig in the Cardiff University Student Union on 10 December with support from Shooting Goon and Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly.

27/11/06 11:11:15

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