State Magazine Issue 5

AUGUST 2008

€ 5.50

/ £4.10

justin timberlake State.ie

I RELAN D’S N EW MUSIC PA PAYLOAD

music is my radar:

michelle doherty tricky No Fire Without Smoke

Albert Hammond Jr Bon Iver Emmylou Harris

Bright Lights Of Oxegen ’08

Beck No Disco Tortoise Pendulum Paranoid Visions The Hold Steady

circuit breakers:

Oh Yeah Centre incoming:

White Denim Joan As Policewoman Wale and the best reviews in

albums, books, games & dvds 1

Is There Anything He Can’t Do?

11th - 13 th JULY

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issue 05 might well contain...

Regulars

Irregulars

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incoming

Ahead of their promotion to the Oxegen main stage, drummer Sam Fogarino talks in-fighting, difficult third albums and a fear of Joy Division records.

albert hammond jr The Strokes’ rhythm guitarist on his second solo album, his dad’s songwriting legacy and his little-known rollerskating years.

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Farewell then Bo Diddley; wherefore art thou Eminem?; You’re Only Massive and Florence On The Machine are the new kids on the block; The genius of GZA, the awfulness of Röyksopp, the ordinary boys of New Order; Hello, this is Melbourne calling; Joan As Policewoman and White Denim talk.

interpol

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justin timberlake Child, music and now movie star: State talks life, the universe and Madonna to JT in Beverley Hills.

32

emmylou harris How Gram Parsons changed her life.

music is my radar

18 36

Channel 6’s Michelle Doherty on her not-so-secret love of country, Nirvana and the enduring elegance of Radiohead.

circuit breakers

The last men standing on the Dublin punk scene return to teach us all a history lesson.

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The Oh Yeah Centre in Belfast - the North will rise again.

blog standard

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44

66 48

anger management

bon iver Niall Byrne talks to Justin Vernon about how life in the wilderness helped him find his alter ego.

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Your complete guide to what’s out there. Albums: Beck makes a fresh start, while Sigur Rós go epic again.

DVD: murder and medieval machinations In Bruges. TV: the wondrous digital age comes into question. Books: Gerard Donovan’s gets shorty.

Games: rhythm is a chancer.

She flies like a bird in the sky, just keep out of Maia Dunphy’s way.

tricky Five years, four cities and one disgruntled guitar hero: the return of the Tricky kid.

Burning Man Festival: dazed and confused in the Nevada desert.

input

the hold steady Growing old gracefully is the ultimate aim for Craig Finn, he tells Johnnie Craig.

The new adventures of mighty mouse.

holidays by mistake

paranoid visions

no disco Tanya Sweeney looks back to the days of RTÉ’s hidden musical gem in the company of those who made it happen.

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pendulum Oxegen’s dance metal heroes on why glow sticks and guitars are the way forward.

96 68

tortoise/analog festival A preview of one of the most progressive musical festivals to hit Ireland in ages, in the company of Tortoise and Efterklang.

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Editors: John Walshe, Phil Udell (editorial@state.ie) Art Director: Simon Roche

Editors’ letter

Publisher: Roger Woolman Assistant Editor/Web Editor: Niall Byrne (niall@state.ie) Advertising and Marketing Manager: Alan O’Dwyer Contributors: Dan Hegarty, Tanya Sweeney, John Joe Worrall, Maia Dunphy, Saoirse Patterson, Dave Donnelly, Jennifer Gannon, Ciara O’Brien, Shane Galvin, Martin McIver, David O Mahony, Durell Connor, Ciarán Ryan, Tony Jessen, Jenna Wolf, David McLaughlin, Jeff Weiss, Pete Ruotolo, Kara Manning, Sinead Gleeson, Johnnie Craig, Bobby Ahern, Cian Traynor, Louise Healy, Leslie King, Paul Byrne, Joe Crosby, Chris Russell, Phil Bergan, Tia Clarke, Sean Feeny, Elaine O’Neil, Shane Culloty, Jonathon Rothwell, Angharad Williams, Pamela Halton, Paula Shields, Kate Rothwell, Hilary A. White, Darragh McCausland, Aoife McDonnell, Michael Dwyer, Patricia Danaher Photographers: Richard Gilligan, Lili Forberg, Marcelo Biglia, Scott ‘n’ Goulden, Zoran Orlic, Liam Sweeney, Loreana Rushe, Feargal Ward, State is published monthly by State Magazine Ltd, 4th Floor, Equity House, 16-17 Upper Ormond Quay, Dublin 7.

Tel: (01) 888 0660 Email: info@state.ie Website: www.state.ie Distributed in Ireland by EM News Distribution, Clonshaugh, Dublin 5, and RMG Chart Entertainment Ltd, 2 Carriglea, Naas Road, Dublin 12, and in Northern Ireland, by EM News Distribution (NI) Ltd. ISSN 2009-0897.

All materials © State Magazine 2008. All rights reserved.

Reproduction of any part of the magazine without the written permission of the publishers is strictly prohibited. Although State Magazine has endeavoured to ensure that all information is correct, prices and details may be subject to change. The opinions expressed are those of the individual contributors and do not necessarily reflect the views of State Magazine Ltd.

contributor vs

Johnnie Craig Johnnie is a former civil servant and checkout-chick who stumbled into journalism largely through not being very good at anything else. He loves records, books, films, food, travel and going off on one. Or two.

Rock, paper or scissors?

Rock

contributor

Michael Dwyer Michael has been writing about music for 20 years and once took a photo of himself wearing Bono’s sunglasses.

He lives with his wife and two small sons in Melbourne, Australia.

Rock, paper or scissors?

Rock

Result: Draw

It’s easy to tell that the summer is officially with us, not just because it’s raining, but because literally hundreds of bands are queuing up to visit these shores. Thus Interpol, perhaps one of the most eagerly anticipated of those guests, grace the cover of our fifth issue. It is also fitting that Kara Manning, someone who knows their home town of New York more than most, be the one to get to the – it turns out troubled – heart of the band. As they step up to the challenge of becoming main stage performers, Sam Fogarino wonders if the band can regain their momentum after Our Love To Admire’s difficult birth.

In addition, we bring you some of the most exciting names appearing in a field near you this month. Tricky welcomes us back in to his world, a job for which certain ex-indie stars evidently need not apply. The Hold Steady have taken a few years to become an overnight success and, as Johnnie Craig finds out, are wondering what to do next. Pendulum, meanwhile, have no such problems. They just want to rock. And dance. Then there’s the Analog Festival, which takes place in Dublin’s Docklands this month: we preview this eclectic line-up with the help of post-rock icons, Tortoise.

Yet this wouldn’t be an issue of State if we didn’t feel the need to broaden our horizons a little and where better to start than with one of the world’s biggest pop stars? Justin Timberlake has worn many hats over the past decade, from Mouseketeer to boy band member: his latest move looks like being a successful movie career. We meet him in Beverley Hills to get the lowdown on acting, working with Madonna and the pressure of life in the public eye. Emmylou Harris sits at the other end, not only of the musical spectrum, but also in terms of life experience: Sinead Gleeson hears all about it from the first lady of country. Bon Iver, the man who made one of the albums of the year in a remote forest cabin, would surely approve.

Closer to home, Paranoid Visions prove that (Irish) punk’s not dead; Stuart Bailie, Gary Lightbody and the other good folks behind Belfast’s Oh Yeah Centre look to give the Northern Irish music scene a spiritual and practical home; and Tanya Sweeney harks back to the days when No Disco gave the country its musical fix.

Our Incoming section this month is the usual mix of the new, the old and the odd. For the former, we offer you the twisted inspiration of our own You’re Only Massive and London’s Florence & The Machine. The past gets a makeover with New Order’s Average White Band appearance and how GZA changed one young man’s life. As for the downright strange, we direct you to Jennifer Gannon’s Berlin encounter with Billy Childish. There’s much more to discover, but the bottom of the page approaches, so come back August 7 and we’ll talk some more. ~ John Walshe and Phil Udell State Editors

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my inspiration Dirty Pretty Things

Cos the songbirds don’t do singing on pavements no sweet melody the sound of spit and we spat, Orbit, spoke of lost hopes so toot what you toke man, choke on it Jamie T If You Got The Money

Photography by Roger Sargent 'If You Got The Money' written by Treays/Lewis.

Reproduced by kind permission of Imagem Music and Copyright Control.

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Incoming

Ease Yourself In

they might be giants:

You’re Only Massive If you arrive at a venue one evening to find disco, techno and hip-hop blasting from the stage and a girl hula-hooping, crowd-surfing and teaching dance routines, chances are you stumbled on Waterford’s You’re Only Massive. Cynics will turn away but those familiar with the word ‘fun’ will stay and enjoy the DIY party.

With an ethos of high-spirited amusement and an artistic bent, the duo, made up of Maebh Cheasty and Megan Nolan, will release a split 12”/download with electro rock band Queen Kong in mix format entitled ‘Dot Dash’ this month. “We wanted to take advantage of the two sided nature of vinyl and create something rounded, like a pregnant woman’s belly,” Maebh explains. As well as the release, the duo are continuing their intent of playing every county on the island in their 32-county tour, as well as Maebh continuing to run ‘Disco-nnect’, a guided walking tour around the Docklands of Dublin, which leads to a gig and a party, taking in audience participation, the Macarena and that all-important little word called ‘fun’.

Listen: ‘Do A Runner’ Click: www.myspace.com/youreonlymassive See: Life Festival, Gort, Co. Galway, July 6; Roisin Dubh, Galway, July 10; Inisfree, Donegal, July 12.

50 words on…

come in your time’s up: his name is, his name is....er......

Wacko on Wicklow St It’s struck us for years but we’ve kept it quiet thus far… the Beauty & Nail Care Clinic on Wicklow St has, for some reason, decided that the sign to attract customers towards their wares should feature a frightened, nose-less Michael Jackson lookalike. Pretty ghostly when viewed by night.

Owww!

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Having brought his last studio album to a close with the pleasant sound of him blowing his brains out, the natural assumption may have been that Marshall Mathers was bowing out of making records to concentrate on being a producer, label boss and all round father figure to the next generation of players. Of late though, there have been signs of life in the Eminem camp, manifesting themselves in the shape of a phone call to his own Shade 45 radio station, where LL Cool J was being interviewed, to say he was in the studio working on material. According to LL, “Michael Jordan was supposed to play basketball. Floyd Mayweather was meant to box. And Eminem was meant to rap.”

The record, supposedly entitled King Mathers, is rumoured to be making an appearance this winter, but don’t hold your breath, melon farmers.

yom by richard gilligan

Eminem

Incoming

Knights In White Denim ”I couldn’t believe a trio could make that much noise. Jeeeez oh my!” James Petralli is talking about experimental German outfit Mouse on Mars, but he could be talking about his own band White Denim. Their live shows are notable for their raw, frenetic energy and melding of garage rock ‘n’ roll, lo-fi psychedelic blues and pure scuzz.

New album Workout Holiday exceeds in conveying this manifesto wonderfully.

Drawn in by their “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here but I love it” sound, State asks Petralli, on the phone from his Austin, Texas, home what caused it. “We listened to Raw Power a lot, MC5 and Dukes Of Stratosphear [XTC side-project]. I think that 25 O’ Clock album really shaped how we wanted to make a record. You can kinda pull influences right out of it. The way they put everything together makes it kind of like a puzzle.”

Workout Holiday certainly displays these influences, with its ramshackle, melting-pot style. Despite garnering attention outside Texas, the band are still minnows in their hometown. In fact, first single ‘Let’s Talk About It’ was written with their local peers in mind, as Petralli explains: “We were conceptualising this tune that was confrontational to our immediate local scene as we’re a

non-issue here.”

Even the name, which brings forth an image of too-cool hipsters in skinny white jeans, is an affront to the scene in Austin and is intended to poke fun. “We were considering calling ourselves Totally Revolution, playing on that silly fashionangle, that wannabe LA valley girl-type who always says ‘Yeah, like totally!’”.

Despite local scene reservations, Petralli is a homebody, entirely comfortable with his life in Austin. He talks of how great the food is, his house, his girlfriend, the low cost of living, his enthusiasm for backyard games, the creative energy of his hometown and the amount of venues to enjoy (as witnessed

by our SXSW correspondent, Johnnie Craig in issue 02) but he’s itching to get abroad to play some dates.

The band’s current hype can be largely credited to blogs and Petralli is unequivocal about the role they have played. “I think we can attribute the majority of our attention to blogs, which is unbelievable,” he notes. “One blogger in particular, Gorilla vs Bear, has been such an unbelievable supporter. He started coming to watch us and he would be one of the only people in the audience, so having a guy like that is a great motivator.”

Full interview on state.ie. White Denim play the New Band Stage at Oxegen on Friday, July 11.

they told us they were the future of rock ‘n’ roll - they lied

Gay Dad Oh Cliff Jones, where are you now? It all started so well in 1999: hip Peter Saville designed sleeve art, lyrics about how Aerosmith ruled, endorsement

by Elton John, although he did think they were called Gay Dog, which in retrospect is possibly a better moniker…

Gay Dad were supposed to save us from banal Hallmark lyrics and over-earnest sludge-rock. They were supposed to make everything sexy and glittery again, instead of covering it with three-stripes and a beer gut. With Jones’

journalist credentials, he became the biggest rent-a-quote since Brett ‘I’m-abisexual-who’s -never-had-a-homosexualexperience’ Anderson, bizarrely appearing on the cover of Select magazine with stigmata and a beatific gaze under the banner ‘Saviour Of Rock’ before single number two had even hit the shops.

For a time, it was a pleasant change to have Cliff’s big hair and even bigger pout wink from the magazine rack, but all the pomp and hype failed to ignite an audience who seemed mistrustful, and

they promptly disappeared after just three singles and one patchy album.

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Incoming they might be giants:

Florence & The Machine If you are to judge an artist by their cover versions, then Florence & The Machine are destined to be the best band you’ve heard all year. Beirut, Cold War Kids, Bruce Springsteen: all have been blessed by her magic touch. Discovered by her manager singing in a party toilet, 21-year-old South Londoner, Florence Welch may have attracted the attention of the London taste police, but so far the signs are that there is huge substance behind the cool facade. Working with such steadying hands as MIA producer Steve Mackey and Lightspeed Champion, as well as being signed to influential indie Moshi Moshi, can only help. With a voice, image and some serious songs all in place, the only possible trajectory is up.

Listen: ‘Kiss With A Fist’ (Moshi Moshi) Click: www.myspace.com/florenceandthemachinemusic See: Electric Picnic, August 31

100 albums to avoid before you die

50 words on…

No. 5 Röyksopp: Melody AM (wall of sound)

When listening to an album conjures up memories of mundane tasks like that time you bought a new coffee table or returned a pair of ill-fitting jeans instead of great times, you know it’s a pile of poo. Anything that is described as chill-out/comedown/post party should be read as dance music you cannot dance to: therefore, it serves as aural wallpaper , obsolete wanky fodder found at shitty middle-class dinner parties where self-conscious slickpalmed idiots reference Saint Germain but never actually broke the seal on the CD’s cellophane wrapper.

Like the repressed abuse-memory that used to be known as Moby’s Play,

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Röyksopp’s Melody AM became the ubiquitous ‘image’ album of 2002: album of the month in all the right style-bibles, revered with the kind of nauseating, desperate enthusiasm that says you might as well smash up every other record you’ve ever bought because this is the only one you’ll ever need.

No one seemed to care that it’s a droning, plonking nothing of an album, devoid of colour or structure that seems to stretch on for hours and hours until you believe it will never ever end and you’ll be stuck forever in some airless brown and yellow Norwegian lift with that bloke’s utterly monotone dull thud of a voice rattling through your cranium over and over again until you break down in tears like a broken housewife. Still, it’s better than Moby …

Don’t download: ‘In Space’ If you hate this, don’t listen to: Café Del Mar Chillhouse Mix Vols 1 – 5, Zero 7

My Little Piebald An Irish version of Popbitch was long overdue, what with the eejits we have walking around. This weekly newsletter from the team behind The Slate takes a humorous look at Irish society, with gossip and news so far taking in Gerry Ryan and Dublin’s music glitterati. To subscribe, email mylittlepiebald@gmail.com.

Incoming my roots are showing: jeff weiss

Genius/GZA

Enjoy JAGERMEISTER Sensibly Visit

I got screwed in the summer of ’96. Not literally, as that was well outside the realm of my 14-year old lifestyle, but rather the sort of raw deal that revolved around my not making the prestigious Senior League baseball all-star team. Fate fucked me, marooning me with the ‘14-year old-stars’, a rag-tag ensemble cobbled together from the league’s detritus, collectively exiled to the Los Angeles boondocks to chase after inside-the-park home runs on grassless, fenceless fields.

To add insult to ignominy, it also meant long van rides where we were subjected to the questionable musical tastes of our head coach, who loved nothing more than to yelp the words to that love-lorn ode to pimpery, ‘Return of the Mack’. Luckily, the team’s catcher was obsessed with Wu-Tang and more importantly, was blessed with parents willing to buy him a Discman. I wasn’t so lucky and was subjected to long space-outs set to the so-so sounds of that Brit ex-con crooner, Mark Morrison. I had to ask the catcher what he was listening to.

“Liquid Swords,” he smirked, 14-year old, ’96 wigger accent in full bloom.

“Hmm…” I shook my head. “Never heard of it.”

“What?” He cackled in disbelief. “You’ve never heard of Liquid Swords?”

I stared at my cleats.

Placing the headphones over my head, I pressed ‘play’ and with the first clip of lisped Kung Fu flick dialogue, my head started to spin. Like a nightmare brought to life, Liquid Swords was shot through with poisonous imagery: empires ran by paranoid, shuttered-in shoguns with brains infected by devils and a bloodlust for decapitation.

Prior to hearing Liquid Swords for the first time, I’d primarily hewed to radio-friendly West Coast hip-hop: 2Pac, Dre, Snoop, Warren G. Hearing the Wu for the first time was something distinctly different. If Death Row made music for gangsters to party to (and uh….13-year olds at Bar-Mitzvahs), The Gza created auditory assassinations. A wise man once said that “people who really really like Wu-Tang like Only Cuban Linx, but people who really understand Wu-Tang, prefer Liquid Swords.” It’s not the most important Wu album ever, it’s not even the most original, it’s just the best. Plus, it drowns out ‘Return of the Mack’ really well.

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Incoming from our foreign correspondent: Michael Dwyer in

Melbourne Many lane is in my ears and in my eyes

‘n’ roll analogy seems apt. The difference between Sydney and its less spectacular southern cousin is the difference between Kiss and The Velvet Underground: up there, it’s in-yer-face fireworks, glitter and merch; down here is a cool back-alley labyrinth of intrigue.

An act of god made it so. While sundrenched Sydney is all great outdoors and stately pubs, Melbourne’s weather is so shite, it’s evolved a wombat warren of secret bars and a liquor licensing act often described as “European” to suit. It basically means if you can pull up a milk crate on the footpath anywhere near an open door, you can order a drink here. Hence Melbourne’s unchallenged status as the live music capital. Bars and bands sprout like fungus and for every name that cracks a global mention (Nick Cave, Men At Work, Kylie Minogue, Architecture in Helsinki, Jet, Midnight Juggernauts), a thousand more crash and burn in a blur of black, the city’s unofficial fashion motif.

The Laneway Festival was a logical development of this boggling overabundance and perverse passion for poky places. Each February (that’s high, dry summer), it spills from an almost nonexistent bar called St Jerome’s into Caledonian Lane, a stinky alley lined with dumpsters that service restaurants on Melbourne’ tram-lined main drag.

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Over four years, the cutting edge of the Aussie indie scene has just about burst this unlikely venue’s bricks. Youth Group, The Sleepy Jackson, New Buffalo, The Avalanches, The Panics and The Devastations jostle with international acts like Feist, Yo La Tengo, Broken Social Scene and Les Savy Fav. Laneway grew to two days this year, and even annexed a weekend in Sydney.

Too mainstream for the underground, obviously. Enter the Applecore Backyard Festival, held on the same day, with a monster barbecue, a beer can bar and a bill that read like a roll-call of wilful obscurity: Ooga Boogas, Look Who’s Toxic, Flying Scribble, Actor Slash Model,

50 words on…

Cancellations First there was Santogold, then Prince, MIA (pictured) and then... well then Sandi Thom but the point still remains, what’s going on here? Could it be that artists have had enough of Tricolours being hurled at them and every gig being interrupted by a chant of “Olé Olé”?

Ungrateful sods.

melbourne by warwick baker

For a city that recently rechristened one of its urban alleyways AC/DC Lane, a rock

Box Freezer Romance, even some guys from New Zealand. Applecore’s guerrilla gigs have now spread to nearby suburban laneways, and they’re just one of a fleet of DIY entrepreneurs commandeering railway overpasses, shop-fronts and warehouses in a kind of urban indie variation on the outlaw rave ethos of the early ‘90s.

Early this month, Albert’s Basement crammed a dozen bands, a handful of DJs (“vinyl only”) and 300 punters into warehouse space over a chemist’s in some nameless lane in Brunswick. Inside was a parallel universe to the rapidly tanking music business of record labels and box office. Here, the promoter strolls about with a lunchbox for $5 donations while the proudly unsigned likes of Scott And Charlene’s Wedding, Snawklor, The Twerps and The Psuche Ensemble dispense cheap burns from the backs of their amps. There’s no stopping corporate copycats, of course. The next night, The Living End, one of Australia’s larger major label acts, threw a radio-sponsored album launch in AC/DC Lane. But there are plenty more alleys on the map. And as long as they’re rocking to bands you’ve never heard of, the future here looks bright.

Incoming average white band: not awful, just ordinary

New Order

If we were so inclined, State could easily publish several Special Editions on the legacy, originality, art, influence, and downright dark brilliance of Joy Division. Sadly, the same accolade cannot be afforded to the band they turned into, New Order.

Replacing a genuine icon like Ian Curtis can’t have been an easy task. All the same, you feel the recruitment process may have benefitted from a little more ambition than simply passing the microphone and biro to guitarist Bernard Sumner. How grieving Joy Division disciples must have wept to hear Curtis’ distinctive baritone and evocative abstract poetry give way to Sumner’s foggy, directionless whinge and plaintive, straw-clutching lyricism.

Cheerfully for those fans, the product’s brand name had altered: still, tactlessly changing from a reference to Nazi concentration-camp sex slaves to a moniker wrongly perceived to be plucked from Hitler’s Mein Kampf perhaps wasn’t the best way to denote a fresh start. Like everything else, it would live or die by the quality of its output.

The final two Curtis-penned lyrics formed New Order’s 1981 debut single, ‘Ceremony’ and its b-side, ‘In A Lonely Place‘. From then on, the stabilisers were off, and the wobbles duly ensued.

Debut album Movement sounded frustratingly Joy Division-lite, while its improved electro successor, Power, Corruption And Lies suffered from the non-inclusion of its era’s biggest hit, ‘Blue Monday’. Indeed, it would be 1987 before New Order would release a truly decent album, Substance, an impressive double LP of 12” versions of the hits.

1989’s half-decent Technique album clung to the outgoing acid house era, after which they sunk to an all-time low by recording England’s execrable 1990 World Cup anthem ‘World In Motion’, complete with mortifying “rap” by Liverpool’s John Barnes.

Since then, New Order have put out only three albums of little better than b-side material, and now appear to have finally run aground, although Sumner and bassist Peter Hook appear to be at odds over this fact. Nevertheless, the recent Joy Division revival has horribly underlined the gulf in quality between originality and barrel-scraping, as anyone who’s ever cringed through New Order’s rendition of ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’ will surely testify.

22 23 24 AUGUST

DÚN LAOGHAIRE IRELAND

www.festivalofworldcultures.com

BOX OFFICE: 01 872 1122 FESTIVAL HIGHLIGHTS BROADCAST ON RTÉ TELEVISION

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Incoming they might be giants:

Wale While Lil Wayne floods the internet with mixtape after mixtape, Washington DC’s Wale (pronounced Wah-lay) prefers the more qualitative approach. His two mixtapes so far, 100 Miles And Runnin’ and The Mixtape About Nothing, have thrilled both the hip-hop underground and a mainstream audience.

Nothing... is noticeable for using Seinfeld as a thematic jumping off point, with sampled dialogue and ruminations using Seinfeld-type expressions (“What’s the deal with..?”). There’s even an Eddie Murphy reference: “He got a wife, an ex-wife and baby mother in the same year / But I ain’t judging”. Maybe it will open the door for world-weary rapper, Immortal Technique, to centre an album around an episode of The Golden Girls? If not, Wale already has a bright future ahead, drawing comparisons to Lupe Fiasco, Kanye West and Devin the Dude and with guest appearances from Lil Wayne, The Roots and Clipse, alongside production credits from Mark Ronson, Wale has got his peers’ full support.

Listen: ‘W.A.L.E.D.A.N.C.E.’ (Justice freestyle) Click: www.myspace.com/wale202

the departed:

The never ending debate as to who invented rock ‘n’ roll was thrown back into focus by the departure from this mortal coil of Ellas Otha Bates, better known to the world at large as Bo Diddley. Raised in the twin black music heartlands of Mississippi and Chicago, Bo began to make a name for himself once he became part of the Chess Records set-up. US success followed (including a slot on The Ed Sullivan Show) and the ‘60s would see him tour the UK with The Everly Brothers, Little Richard and a bottom of the bill Rolling Stones.

His influence was felt throughout the music world, with his trademark Bo Diddley rumba beat to be heard in artists ranging from Elvis Presley to The Smiths and The White Stripes.

The Clash took him on tour in 1979 and throughout the latter years of his life, the accolades kept coming. More than many of his contemporaries, he was a genuine innovator, presaging the bravado of rap by some 30 years (titles included ‘Bo Diddley Is A Gunslinger’ and the follow up, ‘Bo Diddley Is A Lover’) and

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working alongside female musicians, most notably ‘The Duchess’ Norma-Jean Woffard. Then there was his distinctive rectangular shaped guitar, designed after an embarrassing onstage injury. Truly one of rock’s great characters and a sad loss to us all.

wale by good bully. bo knows camera press ireland

Bo Diddley

Incoming my favourite worst nightmare: jennifer gannon

Billy Childish

“And now I’d like to start this evening with some poetry” …if there was any phrase that could strike fear into the hearts of the young, stupid and drunk, it was that, the second one being…”Here’s a piece I wrote about my girlfriend’s abortion…”

What a blissful way to start the first night of your holiday, listening to the depraved, bitter, heart-wrenching travails of a man wronged by the world: it really sets you up for a night of frolics on the beer.

As we stared headlong into the cavernous abyss that is Billy Childish’s part-metal mouth we quickly realised there was no escape. Turning to consider the exit, it became clear that this was not an option, considering we were: 1. Stood right under Childish’s moustache; 2 We had already been sussed as the only English speakers there; 3. We were in some random Berliner’s apartment.

This night could not get any worse.

Toiling around the darkened backstreets of central Berlin at some ungodly hour was not an ideal situation for two drunken

Dublin girls but we were nothing if not determined. Three years previously, we had witnessed an incendiary performance of Billy Childish’s trademark ramshackle garage-rock, belting through The Kinks’ ‘Misty Water’ at such breakneck speed, it was eye-watering, so when we stumbled upon an ad for a gig it looked like the ideal inaugural night out.

Having thoroughly exasperated our taxi driver with our Leaving Cert. German and vague address , he eventually left us stranded in the middle of an empty street clutching our crumpled poster of Our Billy, stupidly pointing at the scrawled street name at the bottom. I began to ruminate ruefully over the fact that if I had concentrated on listening to German rather than trying to learn how to speak it in school we might have had more success and that German streets are long… very long, even longer if you are wearing ridiculously uncomfortable cowboy boots that you thought could make you look a bit like Sienna Miller but sadly make you look like a lady-version of Noel Fielding.

After at least an hour of flared tempers and hostile glances, we started coming to terms with the fact that the venue was as made-up as the act’s moniker. Just then, we noticed a ripped

A4 page with “BILLY CHILDISH” and an arrow pointing upwards scribbled on it.

“Upwards” was not a pub or a club but a towering flat-block beside a flyover and as we groped our way up the pitch black empty stairwell, I began conjuring up headlines about missing, idiotic Dublin girls, last seen arguing about shoes, and wished I liked bands who weren’t as artistically conceited and played in actual venues.

Still, even these warning signs could not stop us: we were going to have our bloody brilliant Berlin gig and we were going to go home with boring, selfsatisfied, you-should-have-been-there stories, even if it killed us. Fuelled by this ridiculous smugness and pints of Staropramen, we thought nothing of the shadowy door marked ‘Gig’ or the greyfaced weirdo standing outside it. A note for potential attackers: this is the foolproof indie Hansel and Gretel method to be used liberally on gullible music-loving girls…

Swinging the door open, we came face to face with... nothing. Absolutely nothing, save brown and orange carpeted walls, a makeshift “bar” (plywood balancing on chairs with a few bottles of Red Stripe keeping it upright), a couple of spliffed-up locals eye-balling our every move and some sweaty bloke, who looked like a German Johnny Vegas, playing psycho-billy vinyl at an ear splitting volume. When we saw Childish stride up the mound of carpet next to the speakers, I remember thinking, “fuck it: it’ll be all worth it in the end…”

Two poems about “that-Tracy Emin” later we couldn’t keep it in, like two uncomfortable kids in mass, we began to laugh, the secret-fart laugh that starts as an under-your-breath giggle and erupts into the full-on cheek-biting shoulder shakes that prompted Childish to snap, “ I think artists deserve respect when they are trying to entertain you, I need silence…” Said outburst, thankfully, gave us the impetus to escape: running down the stairwell, freeing our laughter into the early morning cold, we jumped into our getaway taxi just as we heard a guitar burst into life…

11

Incoming

Caught By The Fuzz personal observation,” she says. “Also, I was dealing with the passing of my Mom [Pauline, who succumbed to cancer last year], and that brings up a lot of stuff. I just want to be as open as possible to receiving from that.”

Revolving around Wasser’s resonant, artless piano and voice of burnished pearl, Real Life features a long support cast, from Wainwright and David Sylvian to arresting artwork by her brother Daniel, who also appears to have taken inspiration from his sainted namesake’s dreams.

“We were lucky to grow up with parents that really supported our interests and art,” says Joan. “They always said, ‘just do what makes you happy and you’ll be happy always, even if it may not be as easy financially or psychically’. I’m thankful forever for that.”

Nor have the medieval dreams of Joan of Arc faded completely from memory.

“What I learned from St Joan,” she sings on ‘Magpies’, “is heed to the voice in your heart, in this life, in this life.”

Joan Wasser (better known by her stage name, Joan As Policewoman) spent her childhood convinced she was destined to die by fire. It was the curse of her namesake, Joan of Arc, whose legend was passed on by her mother, when young Joan was impressionable enough to take it to heart.

“This is really kinda personal, but I’m telling you anyway,” she says, flashing her particular blend of New York bravado and open-veined confession like a badge.

“My family was not religious at all, but the adoption agency I was gotten from was run by nuns, so my parents named my brother [Daniel] and me after saints to honour them.”

Happily, her mantle of impending martyrdom only lasted until she turned 17, St Joan’s approximate age when she was burned at the stake in medieval Rouen and her ashes dumped in the Seine.

“When I made it past 17, I was like ‘phew! I’m home free now’,” she hoots.

“Now I can live a comfortable life knowing I’m not gonna perish in some horrible inferno!”

12

Comfortable? To the naked ear, Wasser does seem to have enjoyed a blessed ride through this last decade, playing strings for Nick Cave and Lou Reed, in between tours with Antony’s Johnsons and Rufus Wainwright.

But trial by fire is the essence of her back-story and of her motivation as an artist. Her reincarnation from voiceless classical violinist to emotionally naked singer-songwriter was spurred in part by the tragic loss of her boyfriend, Jeff Buckley, who drowned in the Mississippi River in 1997.

Joan As Policewoman came out with her hands up with Real Life in 2006.

“Previously, I felt that showing weakness was the most horrifying thing,” she said at the time. “Now I know it’s the strongest thing that you can do.”

But if Real Life was a kind of awakening, her incredible new album, To Survive, speaks of a much more tricky business: endurance.

“I’m always trying to find a place where I am more open and that does require a certain amount of constant

50 words on…

Toutless.com The perfect antidote to the moneygrabbing touts on the streets, Toutless.com operates on the assumption that we are all decent human beings really, so why not buy and sell tickets at cost price? If it means not having to pay €476 for an Oxegen ticket, State is all for it.

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feeding my Music Monster The new Sony Ericsson W380i Walkman® phone is made for music.

With Walkman® controls on the outside it’s easy to stay on top of your tunes and keep your inner Music Monster happy.

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Incoming they might be giants:

Esau Mwamwaya The story of a second-hand furniture shop owner turned pop star is about to come to fruition. Malawiborn Esau was living in Hackney, London running his shop (which is stocked with goods obtained from house clearances) when he met the producers Johan Karlberg and Etienne Tron, better known Radioclit.

He sold Tron a second hand bike for £30 and was promptly invited to a housewarming party. The three hit it off so well, they began to work on an album of tropical panglobal music.

Esau was known as the ‘African Phil Collins’ due to his ability to sing vocals and play drums at the same time, but don’t hold that against him. Esau began to cover songs from Western artists like MIA’s ‘Paper Planes’ and Architecture in Helsinki’s ‘Heart It Races’ in his own Chichewa language.

His voice is an injection of radiance, both uplifting and celebratory, and has attracted the likes of Santogold, MIA, Ezra from Vampire Weekend, Marina Vello (formerly of Bonde Do Role) and The Ruby Suns to get involved with the album. The songs take in influences from the likes of Enya, electropop and Baltimore club beats. The result should be an album which infuses African rhythms with modern dance sensibilities.

Listen: ‘W.H.O.A.’ (featuring Ezra of Vampire Weekend) Click: http://www.myspace.com/esaumwamwaya

bring your daughter to the slaughter: great heavy metal lyrics of our time

50 words on…

No. 1: Whitesnake “Walking down the street/You’re the centre of my universe/You got the world in your pocket/My manhood in your purse” ‘Kitten’s Got Claws’ “I don’t need a doctor, I don’t need a priest/I don’t need no superstitious cures for my release/I’m flesh an’ blood, skin an’ bone/A little petticoat company can’t get me stoned” Dancing Girls’ “So I’m looking for a woman who got no shame/‘Cos in the morning there’ll be no one to blame/A high heeled double trouble backstage queen/ Who gets what she wants and knows where she’s been” ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll Angels

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Oxegen Wellies, sun cream, “18, balding, star”, falafel, shorts, ‘Stand (In The Place Where You Live)’, human pyramid, “Fuck You I Won’t Do What You Tell Me”, tent, ‘Fake Empire’, GAA jerseys, Converse, ‘Lend Me Your Face’, wallet, t-shirt, tent pegs, cash, sunburn, ‘New York Cares’, umbrella, ‘D.A.N.C.E.’, chips, beer, ‘Flame’.

Incoming dan hegarty

show time

Keep On Your Teen Side I saw mommy kissing Santogold

“Your old road is rapidly agein’/ Please get out of the new one/ If you can’t lend your hand/ For the times they are a-changin’.”

These timeless lyrics by Bob Dylan have been quoted millions of times before, yet few situations are more suitable for their use than right now.

I’ve written about aspects of the music business before, but the point can’t be highlighted enough: it’s filled with bullshitters, posers, chancers, and obviously some very nice people too. As annoying as some of these blow-dried and snow-dried characters can be, there is another species that is far more tedious.

This breed comes in a variety of different shapes, sizes and ages, but all have the same message: “Music these days is crap, there hasn’t been anything good since _________.” The blank can be filled with any number of names; usually it’s The Beatles, or perhaps the aforementioned Bob Dylan.

It’s not something that bothered me too much in the past, but it’s an opinion that’s been forced upon me a little too often lately. Take two weeks ago, for example, I played a few tracks from the Dan Le Sac Vs Scroobius Pip album for someone. My enthusiasm was abruptly ended when the tunes that I’d played were described as “absolute crap”. Further injury was added by their closing remark,

“the last decent album that I’ve heard is OK Computer by Radiohead.”

This, of course, has to be taken for what it is, a sweeping statement from someone who is now out of touch with modern music, but hasn’t figured that out yet. If you interpret the above comment, it might just translate to; “the last album I bought was OK Computer, although I was tempted to buy The Best Of The Eagles while I was doing my grocery shopping last week.”

I know this makes me sound intolerant, but I don’t think that I can face being subjected to another “it’s all been done before” lecture. No one can ever try and claim that there isn’t repetition (sampling, covers and similarities), but labelling everything from a particular date or album onwards as crap is just dumb.

In the last 12 months there has been some astonishingly good music released: Kala by MIA, Radiohead’s seventh studio album, In Rainbows, Santogold’s self-titled gem, and so many others. There has been some pretty offensive stuff too - the new Fratellis album is near the top of my list!

Let’s not forget, though, there has and always will be music that we individually consider bad.

Now that I have that out of the way, allow me to tell you about an album that you could quite possibly love. Chinoiseries has been put together by a French musician/DJ called Onra. It’s hard to put into words what he’s created, but it has enthralled this listener like few other albums recently. It’s a difficult album to track down, so check out his myspace first (myspace.com/onra).

I’ll sign off this month by saying, thank god it’s festival time again. Oxegen’s highlights include Rage Against The Machine, Justice and Band Of Horses, while The Electric Picnic boasts a lineup that includes Santogold, Sex Pistols, Gemma Hayes, and many others. These are the big two, but there are loads of others worth visiting.

Tune into Dan Hegarty’s Alternative To Sleep on RTÉ 2fm (90 - 92fm), weeknights from midnight to 2am.

Damien Dempsey Nationwide from July 4 Having returned with such a Dublin-related album, last month’s State star gets out and about with a string of national dates. See him next month back in the ranks of Sharon Shannon’s Big Band.

Counting Crows Ambassador Theatre, Dublin, July 11 For most, Counting Crows are still defined by ‘Mr Jones’ and its parent album, August And Everything After, but demand is such that they’ve slotted in a theatre date ahead of their Oxegen appearance.

Toots and the Maytals Róisín Dubh, Galway, July 13; Tripod, Dublin, July 14 & 15 The word legend is much overused these days but they don’t get much more iconic in the world of ska and reggae than Toots. Not exactly a stranger to these shores, his visits are still a cause for celebration.

Tinariwen Cork Opera House, July 21; Galway Arts Festival, July 22 Perhaps the most exciting band to emerge from the African continent, Tinariwen bring a western rock ‘n’ roll feel to their desert sounds. Not only a band, but icons of resistance to their people, which you can’t really say about The Pigeon Detectives.

Blondie Galway Arts Festival, July 24; Vicar Street, Dublin, July 25 If one city has always maintained its musical cool, it has to be New York. In many ways, Blondie were the ultimate NY band, a drop dead gorgeous combination of sex, glamour and punk rock suss. Older and wiser they may be, but those tunes still kill.

Glasgowbury Festival 2008 Eagles’ Rock, Draperstwon, Co Derry, July 26 Now in its 8th year, Glasgowbury has established a name as the place to see new national and international artists alongside established acts. This year’s line-up of over 50 artists includes Ash, Ham Sandwich, Fighting With Wire, Stagger Lee and Oppenheimer.

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Michelle Doherty

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Music is my Radar The presenter of Channel 6’s Night Shift on her love of country music, the music that inspires her and why she ends up going to so many gigs on her own As told to John Walshe

As I was brought up in the sticks of Donegal, my parents were into country music, so I was brought up with Kenny Rogers, Dolly Parton, Johnny Cash, the whole works. That’s my earliest musical memory. My mam and dad had this old record player, while I was growing up, and that’s what I’d be listening to. Is that weird? I still love country music now. I just think Johnny Cash is amazing: his lyrics are like storytelling. I went home one evening and I must have spent four hours on Youtube watching old footage of Johnny Cash and June Carter: I was crying and laughing. It’s an incredible story. And his last album was just really him saying goodbye. It’s heart-breaking.

I am not a great singer but when I was a kid I used to love singing because I’d be around music so much. My dad’s family are very talented: my granddad was a great melodeon player. We used to have big parties in the house and everyone would have to have their party piece. Mine is Dolly Parton’s ‘Coat Of Many Colours’, which is such a country song, and I ended up singing it about four weeks ago. Cringe.

My aunt tells this story from when I was about four. We were driving from somewhere and she had all her kids in the back: I was sitting on her knee, which obviously wouldn’t be allowed now. They were playing this music in the car and I started belting into song. They all pretended they couldn’t hear me and I got carried away with myself. When the song finished, they all started clapping. I was only a wee tot at the time.

I played piano growing up but I never kept it up.

I’d love to go back and do it now though: I just think it’s such a beautiful instrument. It’s absolutely gorgeous. I was never in a band, though: I was never blessed that way. If I was, I’d be ripping it up.

The first record I ever bought was probably Nirvana’s Nevermind. ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ was a real giveaway for me – I loved it. But because my friends weren’t really into it, I thought there was something wrong with me. But I still listen to Nirvana, over and over again. You can put it on any time of the day and it brings back memories.

I’m such a tomboy. When I lived in Derry, I used to hang around with all these lads and they loved Oasis, so they really got me into that. I didn’t really get into the whole Britpop thing. I loved Oasis and The Stone Roses but didn’t really get Blur or Pulp.

A lot of my friends don’t really like the music that I’m into so I find myself going to a lot of concerts on my own ‘cos I don’t want to miss them. I feel like such a loser, but I don’t care. I went to see The National recently and I was totally blown away. The violin player is my new hero. I also loved the Band Of Horses gig in Tripod. I loved that they put 100% into it and they kept coming back for more.

So [the job at] Channel 6 is amazing. I love it.

It’s not like a job at all: it’s my passion. And I love learning something new every day, ‘cos you can never know enough. When I went for the job, I didn’t even know what kind of music they wanted, and I was rhyming off all these bands, but thankfully it was for an alternative music show.

Talk about landing on your feet. It was worth waiting for, that’s for sure.

I love The Raconteurs, Queens Of The Stone Age. I was listening to the new Raconteurs album driving to Donegal, and there’s one song on it which is deadly, ‘Carolina Drama’, which is like a Johnny Cash song: it’s a real story song. I really like the Lykke Li songs that I’ve heard and I kinda like MGMT as well.

It’s hard to pick an all-time favourite band, ‘cos you do tend to drift in and out of things but Radiohead are amazing. We just got a back catalogue of all their videos recently and you do tend to forget how many amazing songs they have. They’d always be my old reliable to go back to. Even their new album, In Rainbows: to come that many years and produce something like that is incredible.

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State

Albert Hammond Jr

You Can Call Me Al Words by John Walshe

12 noon is unfeasibly early for a rock ‘n roll star to be up out of bed and talkative, but Albert Hammond Jr is both of these things. “I get up early,” he explains. “I like mornings.” Indeed, Albert is far from your common-or-garden rock star. When his day-job fizzled into time to kill, as his band The Strokes went on indefinite hiatus after the Room On Fire tour, Albert didn’t rest on his two-album back catalogue and host of awards. Instead, the guitarist started work on his debut solo album, Yours To Keep, one of the surprise successes of 2006. Would it be fair to say that he’s a workaholic?

“No, I work slowly, actually,” he admits. “I work a little bit every day. Usually, what happens is, a month or so after I finish recording an album, I go through a period of writing and writing but nothing comes out for a while. I never know if I’m gonna make another one until the songs happen, which makes sense: you’re not gonna go into the studio without songs.”

But songs he had, and the resulting second album, Como Te Llama? (Spanish for ‘What’s Your Name’) is a melting pot of styles, with Hammond adding reggae, calypso and even classical music into his rock mix. “I’m trying different things,” he explains. “I feel like it sounds like a [cohesive] record but I’m pushing the songs into different fields, I guess.”

Hammond’s sophomore release feels like much more of a collaborative effort than his debut, which is probably due to the fact that this time around, his band (Matt Romano, Marc Philippe Eskenazi and Josh Lattanzi) were involved in the songs’ gestation.

“As much as it’s called my name, it really is not just me and a bunch of session guys,” he notes. “This really needs to feel like a band for it to work well.”

Hammond admits that they’ve been trying to come up with a new name for the collective “like Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers or Elvis Costello and the Attractions.”

Como Te Llama, like his debut, features the ivorytinkling of long-time friend Sean Lennon, on the seven-minute instrumental, ‘Spooky Couch’, which began life as a two-minute demo. “It was on and off the record until finally to me, it felt like

a nice palate cleanser before the end of the record. I was actually quite shocked at the listening party by how well received it was, and also by people I’ve been doing interviews with. Especially at a time like now, it’s hard to throw in a seven-minute song and have people want to hear it. But I think it paid off: I think it makes sense on the record.”

It’s not just piano that lifts this album from the pure rock realm, however. For the first time, Hammond’s tunes are augmented by a string quartet. “Some songs were just asking for strings,” he muses. “‘You Won’t Be Fooled By This’ felt like it was saying ‘please, put a quartet on’, so we did.”

That song is one of the album’s undoubted highlights, but what’s it about?

“I had this chorus and I really liked the melody and the way the words fit into the melody. Sometimes melody can make simple words so strong,” he opines. “It’s definitely about stuff but I’m not fond of digging into my own head and trying to talk about what I was thinking about [when I wrote it]: I kinda like the idea of once it’s done, it’s almost gone from me, and it’s people’s, so whatever they feel from it is what is real. Whatever I was thinking, I let go of.”

The album’s closer, ‘Feed Me Jack Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love Peter Sellers’ has an obvious Doctor Strangelove vibe.

“That was the last song written and it almost didn’t make the record,” admits Albert. “When we were recording, I wrote it in the last two weeks. I was just watching Dr Strangelove and I was playing this melody that I liked. I was actually only playing it because Gus [Oberg, engineer] told me that he really liked the song and wanted me to try to finish it. There’s this scene where the Lieutenant is firing at his own soldiers and Peter Sellers is going ‘Feed me, Jack’, and I started singing ‘Feed me Jack’ over the chorus and the melody just came.

“I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of writing a love song to a guy, to a best friend, so it’s not always about a girl. And I kinda wrote this song about my best friend John, who I grew up with, who lives in LA, but I still like ‘Feed Me Jack’ better than ‘Feed Me John’,

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Albert Hammond Jr

“I’m not fond of digging into my own head and trying to talk about what I was thinking about [when I wrote it]: I kinda like the idea of once it’s done, it’s almost gone from me, and it’s people’s, so whatever they feel from it is what is real. Whatever I was thinking, I let go of.”

and I also thought it was a great title, ‘How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love Peter Sellers’. I had to do it.”

Hammond is about to take Como Te Llama on the road. Unfortunately, he was too late for the European festival circuit this summer, but he hopes to tour over this side of the world this autumn/winter.

“I’m working ‘til January or February of next year, and as of now, that’s when I think The Strokes are gonna get together and see what’s up. But that’s so far ahead, I try not to even think about it: I try to live right now.”

Does he still see his fellow Strokes members regularly?

“I’ve seen them,” he admits, “not regularly, but I’ve seen them.”

But the plan is to reconvene next year?

“That was what everyone said to me, so that’s cool,” he avows. “As soon as I finish touring, we’ll go in and see what happens.” Subject obviously closed.

An obviously happier subject for him is his father’s recent induction into the Songwriters’ Hall Of Fame.

Hammond’s father, Albert Senior, enjoyed a successful solo and a massive song-writing career – his compositions include The Hollies’ ‘The Air That I Breathe’, Tina Turner’s ‘I Don’t Wanna Lose You’ and a co-writing credit on ‘When I Need You’ (made famous by Leo Sayer). Albert is “very proud” of his dad’s achievement.

“To work all your life and then get an achievement like that from your peers must feel good,” he opines. “I’m very happy for him. He definitely deserves it. He’s worked hard and done a lot of amazing things over his life. He has been nominated a couple of times before and he thought for sure this year that he wasn’t going to win because there were a lot of other great artists, but 22

he won. He was thrilled. He was very emotional.”

State read that Roy Orbison was a regular guest at the Hammond house when Albert Jr was growing up, a fact which the singer confirms. “He hung out with my dad, but it was never like ‘Hey, Uncle Roy’,” he laughs. “I have one memory of seeing a show of his at Disneyland but I was so young, I don’t remember going back to meet him. But Roy Orbison was an awesome songwriter and singer and funny enough, when I did fall in love with music, him and Buddy Holly were how I got into music.”

Before getting into music, the pre-teen Albert Hammond Jr was actually a champion roller skater. Ever thought about bringing the skates on stage?

“No,” he guffaws, “but it would be fun, though. When I used to do it, I was nine or 10, and it was like figure skating. I had a partner, who I would raise above my head. Obviously, I was a kid so I wasn’t doing triple axels, it was just single axels. It was something I found fun at the time and if anything, it gave me discipline: I used to practice for seven days a week, three hours a day. So I took that discipline into another field. It also got me my first couple of kisses from girls, which was nice: my partners would always wanna sleep over at my house. Of course, when you’re that young, you’re only thinking about kissing, which is like ‘Wow’,” he laughs uproariously. “It’s not like, ‘let’s fuck!’.”

Speaking of relationships, as we almost were, Albert’s exfiancée Catherine Pierce, one half of folk duo The Pierces, has intimated that some of the songs on their album, Thirteen Tales Of Love And Revenge, are about their relationship. Is that weird for him?

“No,” he chuckles. “If anything, maybe it’s weird for her but I guess it isn’t. It’s not weird for me. Relationships end and it was hard because we were together so long, but you learn, you move on and you’re in a better place for it. Whatever she wants to write about is basically her business.”

Como Te Llama is released on Friday, July 4. You can read more from Albert Hammond Jr on www.state.ie.

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State

Smalltown Boy Words by Patricia Danaher ~ Portraits by Perou

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State

Justin Timberlake comes bounding into the Four Seasons Hotel in Beverly Hills, late, and eager next

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Justin Timberlake

State

to get on with the interview. Bright eyed and energetic, wearing a black shirt and tie under a stripey jumper, he’s keen to get back to what he was doing before stopping to talk to State about life, music and his new movie The Love Guru.

It’s ridiculous how accomplished this 27-year-old is and how copped on he also appears to be. None of the shenanigans of his former girlfriend and fellow Mouseketeer, Britney Spears, for him. Far from it: the Emmy and Grammy winning singer/songwriter brings a swan-like ease and confidence to bear on all his various endeavours, which belies a deadly serious ambition, focus and the speed at which his legs must be working.

Fresh from finishing playing a villain in Mike Myers’ latest offering and on the heels of recording with Madonna on Hard Candy, the son of the choir-master from Tennessee has come a long way. Indeed, Justin seems to be just hitting his stride in all areas of his life.

Recently and very happily back in the studio, where he’s working as a producer with a couple of different artists he signed in the past year, he’s as enthusiastic about this new talent as he was thrilled to work with Madonna.

“I’ve just signed Eazy May from Holland and I have a band from Memphis that I signed and one of my old friends, who was actually on a television show with me when I was a kid, Matt Morris,” he enthuses. “I’ve been working in the studio with them for the past year and to sit on the other side as the producer, I find that it really boils down to the same thing: there is good music and there is bad music and I want to know is the writing good and how is the performance?”

With several movie roles added to his belt notches, JT sees obvious comparisons with acting and singing, citing his recent comic role in The Love Guru.

“There are so many similarities with music and film and I’ll give you an example,” he opines. “In a movie like The Love Guru, there is a specific rhythm that’s involved in portraying this type of comedy and this type of back-and-forth banter.

You can sort of hear it when it starts to work and it’s very musical for me. When you have people around you in the studio, you can test it very quickly and you know, there’s an immediate knowing of what’s

Justin Timberlake

working and what’s not working. I guess the similarity with film-making is that you’re the director in the studio.”

It seems that Timberlake has more strings to his bow than Robin Hood, however. Along with his superstar singing, burgeoning musical production and acting careers, he has a new clothing line which is being launched this month, with a range of women’s and men’s clothes hitting the shops later in the year. Expected to be environmentally friendly and in the mid-price range, Timberlake and his people worked with Johann and Marcello Linderbergh on the design, which he refers to as “the language of the clothing”. The brand is called William Rast and he says the style is “American southern heritage meets European innovation”.

Self assured, without seeming arrogant, the wunderkind graduated from The Mickey Mouse Club on Disney - where he cut his milk teeth in showbusiness alongside the likes of Christina Aguilera and his ex-girlfriend, the tragic Britney Spears – to fronting the boy band N’Sync, before striking out on his own in early 2000.

Most of his artistic and musical gambits, including his fledgling acting career, appear to have paid off so far, often with quite discrete audiences. He draws sighing, screaming teens, gays and some older women. As well as that, he’s also starred, fairly credibly, opposite Samuel L Jackson and Kevin Spacey, as well as having been a voice on Shrek.

Not every role he’s had has been stellar (he was hammered critically for the awful Black Snake Moan), but having become such hot property for his music, as well as for his high profile romances, Hollywood hasn’t cared and keeps offering him more roles.

“I don’t want to be a movie star, if that’s what you mean!” he laughs. “I mean that in a nice way! I respond to the material that I respond to: for instance, a project like The Love Guru, I got a phone call from Mike Myers and he sent me the script and he said, ‘Read it. I want you to play the villain in this movie.’ How do you say no to that?

It’s Mike and you know, actually, it was fun for me to be able to really express myself creatively and not have to worry about the pressure of the box office or the industry.

Actually, it’s the closest thing to a hobby that I could possibly have and I really do

enjoy the process.”

What a luxury it must be to be able to describe what so many people in LA would kill to do, as “a hobby”, but it appears that most things appear effortless to Timberlake.

He exudes a confidence, which though not exactly cocky, is very redolent of a young man getting where he wants to be, in no particular hurry (you don’t see the swan’s legs, moving furiously beneath the water). Very much a product of his generation in terms of his musical taste and as a musician, he’s very sanguine about the current upheavals in the music industry, in spite of the hysteria in certain sectors of the business.

“I watched the birth of the internet.

I’m from a generation where we like everything. We don’t just listen to hip hop, we listen to hip hop and rock and soul and, you know, classics,” he states. “I listen to everything and I’m someone from a small town, in the trees of Tennessee, who got to travel the world and learn about Paris and London and Milan. I don’t think the music industry is in a slump. If you look at the money that’s generated on tours, you know that people still want to see their favourite musicians play. But the barometer the industry is measuring the music business by is what the problem is.”

Warming to his point, he tilts back on his chair and scratches his designer stubbly chin: “It’s not up to speed with what the demographic of people who are largely buying and trading music monitor their world by. The problem is the record labels are trying to pick up their pants from the process of trying to hold people back from downloading music, when that was an inevitable evolution of the music industry.

“Now that they have embraced it, they’re still trying to catch up and I think we have to change that barometer for which we measure success in the music industry,” he continues. “A 12-year-old doesn’t care: with the birth of the internet and things becoming more accessible to a younger generation, I think it’s actually empowered them to make up their own mind about what they like personally.

“People are far less likely to follow trends and with the birth of the internet and artists putting their music out on MySpace and on Facebook, people who buy music don’t care who else is buying a song

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Justin Timberlake

“People who are seen in the media a lot are made as examples for lots of things they have no control over. In this business, you’re obviously, I think, forced to grow up very, very quickly. Some people deal with it well and some people don’t.”

when they spend their 99 cents. If they like it, they’re gonna buy it. They want it when their phone rings; they want to be able to put their favourite songs on one CD, one play-list or you know, just walk around with their iPod. I think we really just have to change the way we monitor how we measure the market for music.”

It’s hard to argue with this analysis of the how much a dinosaur the traditional music business model has become, and Timberlake’s other instincts appear to be fairly spot on in many ways.

His most recent work with Madonna on her album Hard Candy was a tribute to his iconic status, but came without the burden of apparent baton-passing, which Britney Spears appears to have felt when Madonna snogged her at the Grammy’s a few years ago.

He laughs diplomatically and seems to blush slightly when asked what the experience was like of working with the formidable Ms Ciccone.

“It was everything you think it is,” he grins. “It was great and it was bad and it was cool and it was tedious and it was fun. We went down into the valleys and we came out on top of the mountains.” He laughs hard at some recollection and won’t

28

be drawn much more on the topic.

“Look, we had a good time and I’m happy to call her a friend now,” he closes the subject. “She’s a really, really special person.”

Justin Timberlake is the grandson of a Baptist minister and was raised in the religion, attending the same Baptist church in Millington, Tennessee near Memphis. His parents divorced when he was four years old and his mother Lynn became, and has remained, a big influence on her son’s career. She runs an entertainment company now called Just-In Time, surely in the name of the son.

“My earliest memories of being a kid were trying to make my parents laugh at the dinner table, or trying to goof around, or being in school and trying to make my friends laugh in class,” he recalls. “Basically, I’m just a kid living out my dreams and as clichéd as that might sound, I think the confidence to pick and choose what’s inspiring, that came from my mother.”

His first public appearance as a singer was at the age of 11, when he appeared on Star Search, singing cutesy country and

western songs to an adoring local audience.

Shortly after this appearance, he got picked to star in the remake of the popular US children’s variety series The Mickey Mouse Club, where he met not only Spears and Aquilera, but future N’Sync band member JC Chasez. The show ran until 1995, by which time all of them were burgeoning stars, ready for an older audience.

“My Mom and my stepdad gave me a lot of the confidence to pursue some of the choices which I have made,” he explains.

“If you take something like my music career, I think I am just grown up, you know. I think that as you grow and evolve, you’re influenced by different things and for instance, with the last record, it wasn’t particularly me, per se, but it was a vision that I had for the music and where I saw the music at the time that I put it out. It’s funny to me that the album came out two years ago, because I kind of automatically see different things about the music already.”

JT’s own musical evolution might in some ways be reasonably compared with that of the chameleonic Madonna. His style now, as evidenced in

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29

State

We apologise for the distress this image of Justin and Mike Myers in The Love Guru might cause

FutureSex/ LoveSounds, is much harder and less manufactured than the boy band pap, which sold in the millions worldwide.

N’Sync’s eponymous first album in 1998 spawned a host of top 40 hits, most notably ‘Tearin’ Up My Heart’ and the teeth-rotting saccharine ballad ‘God Must Have Spent a Little More Time On You’. Their next album in 2000, No Strings Attached sold over 2.5 million copies, making it the fastest selling album of all time.

After the next and what would be their last album, Celebrity shifted over five million copies, all the band members announced they were taking a break from the studio and Timberlake lost no time in actively shaking off his squeaky clean boy band image.

Enlisting hip hop producers Pharrell Williams and Timbaland to help him craft a sexier, edgier new sound, while mindful of his old fan base, he also brought in R&B singer and producer Brian McKnight to polish the sexy, pop-friendly songs.

Justified was released in November 2002, going straight in at number 2 in the US and eventually going platinum seven

30

Justin Timberlake

times. It won him a Grammy for Best Pop Vocal Album of the Year, also spawning a Grammy-winning single ‘Cry Me A River’.

The video for this song used a Britney Spears lookalike and was a clear swipe at her for the cheating on him, which led to their break-up.

The two were a couple for two years and after their split, he soon became involved in a very public affair with Cameron Diaz, which lasted nearly four years. Timberlake has maintained an admirable loyalty to Spears, defending her in the tabloids many times, and begging for her to be given some privacy. Since early last year, he has been involved with the actress Jessica Biel and there have been rumours of their engagement. But he won’t be drawn on the particulars of any of this private life, seeming to find the very question tedious.

“People who are seen in the media a lot are made as examples for lots of things they have no control over,” he argues. “In this business, you’re obviously, I think, forced to grow up very, very quickly.

Some people deal with it well and some people don’t. But as far as relationships, friendships or romances, I think it’s about connection and how you communicate:

some people communicate better with others, regardless of age, and the communication leads to how much closer the connection is.”

The ostensible reason why Justin Timberlake is doing interviews now is to help promote Mike Myers’ movie, in which he seems to have had a blast, playing a French-accented, moustachioed villain, but his head does not appear to have been turned by the big screen. He has another film in the bag, however, a road movie called The Open Road, where he stars opposite Jeff Bridges and Lyle Lovett, which is due to be released at the end of this year.

“Jeff Bridges is my favourite actor I’ve worked with so far,” enthuses Justin.

“For someone who’s done it so well for so long, to be still so committed and so collaborative and so giving. I mean, this guy’s on set asking me what I’m thinking of his performance in a scene! He’s like ‘What do you think? Should I blah blah blah blah blah blah?’ and I’m like, ‘I don’t know. You’re Jeff Bridges. Do it how you want to do it!’ And to collaborate with people that I admire and look up to, I mean that’s what it’s all about.”

For complete listings please visit www.whelanslive.com

Whelan’s | Fri July 11th | €15

Pugwash

U:Mack Presents Whelan’s | Sun July 6th | €25

Whelan’s | Sat July 12th | €tbc

Whelan’s | Mon July 14th | €16

Aiken promotions presents

Andy Irvine

+ His Australian Friends

DIERKS BENTLEY Whelan’s | Tue July 15th | €14.50

Whelan’s | Tue July 22nd | €23

Whelan’s | Tue July12th 29th||€tbc €22.50 Sat July

Whelan’s Upstairs | July 8th & 15th | €10

THE MIGHTY STEF & special guests in residency Whelan’s Upstairs | July 17th & 24th & 31st | €12

in residency

Whelan’s Upstairs | July 2nd & 9th & 16th | €10

Whelan’s Upstairs | Wed July 30th | €12 Ballroom of Romance presents

Whelan’s | July 27th (sold out) & 28th | €23.50

Andrew’s Lane Theatre | Fri July 4th | FREE

Andrew’s Lane Theatre | Tue July 26th | €15 31

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Emmylou Harris

Queen Of The High Country Words by Sinéad Gleeson

When it comes to legendary women in music, Emmylou Harris has become one of the most enduring talents of the last four decades. From her early days as a folk singer, right through to her inspired work with Gram Parsons in the 1970s, she has embraced country music, while never forgetting her roots. When you think of Harris, it’s all about that voice: soaring, bell-clear and full of heartbreak, but it was her first encounter with a guitar that set her on the path to singing.

As a teenager, her family placed a rotating array of instruments in front of her, but she never related to them. One Christmas while visiting relatives, everything changed. “My cousin had gotten a guitar as a present and I can’t remember if he wasn’t that interested or I just took it off him, but I played it the whole time I was there,” she recalls. “When we came home, I said I wanted a guitar and my grandfather bought me a $30 dollar Kay in a local pawn shop. I bought a book of guitar chords and taught myself how to play. I was hooked.”

With her father in the military, the Harris family lived a peripatetic life, but local radio was to prove a lifeline for the young Emmylou. A Virginian station played folk music from seven to midnight every night and it was there that she heard Dylan, Pete Seeger and Joan Baez for the first time. Baez had a huge influence on her, and compounded her determination to be a musician.

“Hearing Joan Baez was the revelation,” she admits. “Lots of women my age wanted to be her. Here was this woman with a voice from the gods, singing these songs that had absolutely nothing to do with my life. It made me want to hop a freight train to somewhere [laughs]. I was 16 and at that age, you just feel all the angst of the world. There was an intensity to life and music fed that for me”.

Most of Harris’ early singing was done in church. Raised Episcopal, she admits that they “didn’t have any good hymns: the Baptists had them all”. The higher range required in choir didn’t suit her voice, so she never thought of herself as much of a singer. It wasn’t until she owned a guitar and could put the songs into different keys that singing began to resonate with her. Living so far from a big city, a long period of playing in her bedroom followed. Occasionally, her parents would drive her to Washington to play small gigs and soon audiences started to pay attention to her voice.

“I was a bit of a Joan Baez copier, and didn’t really discover my voice until I started working with Gram,” she confesses.

Gram is of course the prodigious Gram Parsons, who Harris worked with on his classic 1974 album, Grievous Angel. His premature death at 26 from a drug and alcohol overdose was a huge loss to music, but he was instrumental in shaping the future direction of Harris’ musical career. Prior to their collaboration, she considered herself a folk singer and says that Parsons steered her towards country and bluegrass.

“Meeting him, all of sudden my life had found its place,” she notes. “He set me on a road I’m still on. When we met, I was a single mother, singing in clubs and making a meagre living. I got to be on a national stage with him, but more than that, he helped me find my style. If I hadn’t met Gram, I don’t know what would have happened to me.”

Despite this adoption of country, Harris has never lost her allegiance to folk music. “I’ve always had more of a folksounding voice”, she says, “and doing country songs that way honed my voice into what it’s become. Singing harmony also

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Emmylou Harris

“Meeting him [Gram Parsons], all of sudden my life had found its place. He set me on a road I’m still on. When we met, I was a single mother, singing in clubs and making a meagre living. I got to be on a national stage with him, but more than that, he helped me find my style. If I hadn’t met Gram, I don’t know what would have happened to me.”

contributed. It got me out of having to be ‘the whole show’ and it made me realise that you have to trust the lyrics and melody, and they’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

album taking four years, on and off, to complete. Much has been made of the fact that her ex-husband Brian Ahern produced it, but Harris insists they have worked together since 1983’s White Shoes.

Apart from the heart-on-sleeve aspect of folk and

Over the last 38 years, her collaborators have included Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Elvis Costello, Mark Knopfler and an endless list of artists she has covered. No genre is off limits, and alongside country stalwarts like Patty Griffin, The Louvain Brothers and Willie Nelson, the list includes Donna Summer’s ‘On the Radio’ and Chuck Berry’s ‘You Never Can Tell’. On the Oh Brother, Where Art Thou soundtrack, she accompanied Alison Krauss and Gillian Welch on a track, and Harris has released two Trio albums with long-time friends Linda Ronstadt and Dolly Parton.

Having made an art out of reinterpretation, does she approach other people’s music differently to her own?

“When you’ve written a song yourself, it’s like ‘work’s done!’,” she laughs, “so you skip a large part of the process. But with someone else’s work, you feel a certain responsibility to come up with something different. You need to take a step inwards, into yourself, to do justice to it and make it your own.”

A younger generation of artists has been inspired by Harris’ legacy, resulting in collaborations with Beck, Ryan Adams and Bright Eyes’ Conor Oberst. Working with contemporary musicians has helped keep her up to speed with what’s going on musically, but it has also proved an inspiration to her. Music’s longevity is something she sees as instilled in the next generation of songwriters.

“I learned about Ryan and Bright Eyes because they approached me about working together. I’d love to put more time into hearing who’s out there, but I have such faith in young people to reinvent music: it’s how music continues to grow and flourish.”

country, the two genres are bound by many other things, not least a strong story-telling tradition, which Harris says drew her to both. This sense of narrative runs through the songs on her new album, which includes versions of other people’s songs. One such is Merle Haggard, who she covered on her major label debut Pieces of Sky in 1975. On All I Intended To Be, Harris tackles one of his saddest, ‘Kern River’, a song about the drowning of a friend.

“It’s my favourite song by him, and that’s saying something,” she avows. “It talks about loss in a way that is so moving and transcendent, yet it’s completely down to earth in connecting a physical place to the loss of someone.”

This sort of collaboration has always been an intrinsic part of Harris’ work, to the point where she frequently betters versions of songs by other artists, making them her own. A self-confessed “finder of songs”, people were surprised when she began writing her own material – and that it turned out to be so good.

“People ask why I waited so long, but I had always written,” Emmylou explains. “It was only with Red Dirt Girl [2000] that I made a concentrated effort with it. I did it because I knew that if I wanted to continue in the same vein as Wrecking Ball [1995, one of her most acclaimed albums] to capture that sound and fury that was so different to previous work - that I had to bring something new to the table.”

She learned to be conscientious and give herself “a different kind of space” to better her writing. Given her magpie-like tendencies for finding the shiny trinkets in other people’s repertoires, it would be easy to assume that hundreds of songs were in contention for a place on All I Intended To Be. Instead, Harris confides that there weren’t any extra songs, despite the

34

Emmylou Harris plays the National Stadium, Dublin on September 12

35

State

Paranoid Visions

The Last Gang In Town

Words by Phil Udell ~ Photography by Feargal Ward

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State

To meet Deko and PA, original members and bearers of the Paranoid Visions torch for over 25 years, you wouldn’t have them down as historians. But that is what they are, in a sense anyway. The band have recently set out to catalogue the history of Dublin underground music from the early ‘80s onwards, through a series of covers EPs. The first, entitled Treasures From The Wasteland, is now with us and resplendent on pink vinyl, featuring songs from The Threat, The Atrix and DC Nein. So, why look back to a musical time that most have forgotten or didn’t even know existed?

“It’s the sound of a scene that was never really mapped out or reached its full potential,” says Deko. “It spawned us. These were the bands we grew up listening to or going to see live. They weren’t English bands but you still didn’t get to see them very often because there just weren’t the gigs.”

It’s a question that still vexes many, just why punk never really seemed to hit in Dublin? Deko has his theories. “Any of the bands from here who latched onto the punk thing got out of here – The Rats, U2, The Radiators. They didn’t hang around trying to play in Dublin,” he argues. “We couldn’t get a mention in the music press in those days, nobody would touch us: there were no record companies. There was absolutely nothing to get us out of the rut we were in. No venues would put us on because there was violence at some of the punk gigs. After that Radiators show in UCD when somebody was stabbed, the whole thing was shut down. Any gigs we did play were bloodbaths anyway: there was always trouble with bouncers and gangs.”

In the face of such opposition, the only thing to do was create their own scene. “We dragged it kicking and screaming along with us,” he remembers. “We weren’t doing it for any great reason: we had to do it. At every gig we did, the venue would get trashed, there’d be blood on the walls and eventually we had to leave those clowns behind, say ‘come to the gigs if you’re alright but if you’re going to come in and wreck the place, we’ll take you outside’. It was almost like we had to ethnically cleanse the scene, to get rid of the Nazi skinheads.”

“No-one in the mainstream was interested in us,” PA offers, “apart from maybe to sneer, so we did everything ourselves: that DIY ethos that came from the ‘77 scene and continued into the ‘80s. We saw it in the UK and just brought it over here and replicated. People didn’t seem to realise that if you wanted to do it, just go out and do it.”

Paranoid Visions

“I went to six gigs here in the ’80s,” says Deko. “Only six bands that I was interested in ever came to Dublin.”

And then came U2’s mega success and the floodgates opening on the domestic music scene. Good times, surely? Not so, according to PA. “From an alternative point of view, it was terrible,” he says.

“Take a band like Amuse, who we saw supporting Theatre of Hate. They were a really powerful, dark underground band, who were never going to go anywhere. They materialised into Blue In Heaven, who sounded just like U2. As did everybody.”

“It was never about U2,” says Deko. “They were a great band, but they and the industry combined to make every band in this country sound the same. There were hundreds of them with that jangly, shit guitar. It was like U2 had seven singles out under different names every week.”

Eventually by 1990 they’d had enough of the fight and called it quits. Deko continued his nomadic existence while PA settled into civilian life. Come 2005, however, a reissue of their back catalogue brought a new line-up together.

“It was really tough to get it together,” says PA, “but then we did, for some reason. Maybe it was the rise in interest in punk rock again, but everybody seemed to know who we were. I’d spent the previous 10 or 15 years thinking I was in an underground band that nobody had ever heard of. Before we knew it, we started writing new songs and put out an album. We’re selling more physical records now than we did in 1987 and they’re not being sold to a bunch of 45-year-olds.”

Given their unique overview of the Irish music scene, what do they think of the new breed?

“Bands are starting to get a bit of attitude again,” says Deko.

“There hasn’t been an attitude off an Irish band since early U2 and The Boomtown Rats. I can’t believe some of these bands, like Fight Like Apes. They’re not playing someone else’s music. You’d hear the ‘80s and ‘90s bands and you’d go, ‘fuck that!’ It made me embarrassed. If all we’ve got to offer is bands like The Frames then we might as well just chop off our balls. I hate all those blown-up bands who are too safe. The Things are great, The Mighty Stef too, Giveamanakick: they’re starting to get an identity of their own.”

Attitude they may have, but the new kids on the block could do a lot worse than to listen to these particular elders.

Thanks to Ross at Rebel Studios.

37

Circuit Breakers

Northern Lights

Words by Phil Udell

The Oh Yeah Centre in Belfast is all about providing Northern bands and musicians with “a better climate” to nurture their talent.

In a world full of ne’r-do-wells and miscreants, Stuart Bailie is that, until fate – and a group of musicians one of the good guys. A none-too-shabby career in the music business – from jobbing musician to assistant editor of the golden era NME – has resolutely failed to lure him over to the dark side. Instead, he returned to his native Belfast to work for the BBC and to continue writing. There was, however, one thing nagging him.

“As long as I’ve been involved in music,” he tells State in a jovial tone, “as a bad punk musician and later as a journalist, people have always been saying, ‘wouldn’t it be great if Northern Ireland had a music centre or somewhere where people could meet?’”

It was an idea that would remain just

38

– intervened. “We were approached by the Snow Patrol guys just after Christmas 2005,” he remembers. “There was a very long day spent going round the pubs, putting the world to rights. They were nudging people, saying what would Belfast need if they were to use a wee bit of their influence. There are various music centres in Ireland, like the Nerve Centre in Derry, and they wondered why we didn’t have a shot at that. We all groaned and went, ‘not that old story again’. They were stuck on this idea and really wanted it to happen. We all woke up with a hangover but the seeds of the idea were there.”

What did he think, once the mist

had cleared? He laughs: “We kind of panicked and thought, my god, this is going to be the death of us all. We’re going to be divorced, disowned by our friends and everybody else in Belfast is going to casting aspirations on our integrity. All those things have happened in one shape or form but once we got over the fear and anxiety of taking on such a huge project, we knuckled down and started to look for venues.”

With a number of like minded people on board, they soon found the perfect spot – the Outlet Building, a former whiskey warehouse – and the Oh Yeah Centre was born.

“It took a year to do the planning, all the hush hush stuff, and we went public in January 2007. Peter Hain, who was Secretary for State at the time, really wanted it to happen and various other people were cheering it on,” Stuart recalls.

“Now we’ve got a sort of a working office, we have a development officer and we’re working with organisations like Love Music Hate Racism. The studio is run as a private unit by Rocky from Oppenheimer, Ricky Warwick is in there at the moment recording a version of ‘Alternative Ulster’ of all things. There’s a promotions company in here, a multi-media company and we’ve had a whole bunch of gigs – Foy Vance, Duke Special, Lisa Hannigan. It’s all a bit hand-to-mouth and a bit terrifying but we’re up and running.”

For Stuart, the centre is all about redressing the balance.

“You can’t deny that other people have been blasting away for years: we’re not the first, but in terms of infrastructure and experience, we’re way behind Dublin and light years behind London,” he opines. “I don’t think anyone questions that there’s loads of talent in Northern Ireland: it’s just getting more of it out there, stopping them getting into dodgy

deals and stopping great bands breaking up out of sheer frustration. We just generally want to give the artists a better climate really.”

Why has the North lagged behind?

“Well,” he says, “we had 30 years of sectarian conflict and Belfast, Derry and everywhere else were bombed out of existence, certainly in terms of music and socialising. It wasn’t particularly conducive for music, although we had a fantastic punk scene in opposition to what was going on. Even more than Dublin, we’re really isolated and hard to get to. Record company men don’t want to come and visit, bands lack a little bit of confidence but all that’s changing now thanks to cheap flights and the internet.

Everybody’s plugged into the rest of the world so a band like Oppenheimer can sort out an American management deal and plan their tours. We’re getting an increasingly equal footing.

“I always thought that Belfast and Derry were almost like Seattle in that you were left alone,” he continues. “To break out of that, you had to be a wee bit sharper and call on your own resources a bit more.

I think the problem with Dublin is that bands who are quite good get raved about and signed really quickly, never get a chance to develop and get dropped before the first album comes out. Bands from here seem to get an extra six months to

really see who they are and then make the move.”

Stuart Bailie, Gary Lightbody and the result of a

With so many experienced people on board, surely younger

“There’s probably been about 40 acts through the studio, we’ve had 50 or so bands on stage,” he notes. “All the events are all-ages. We’ve done a couple of these things where you recreate classic albums, we’ve done Astral Weeks and Nebraska and we’re going to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of Fisherman’s Blues. We’ve had music business lawyers over doing surgeries, discussion panels, so we’ve done what we can. It’s been very exciting but we’re very conscious that we haven’t got a big structure behind us. There are two or three bands that have come through already, so we’re starting to touch the lives of creative people and starting to encourage them.”

He is, above all, optimistic for the future. “Five years from now, we’ll either be a shining success or beaten and bruised.

We’re on chapter three now. The first one was the dream, second was ‘can this happen?’ and now it’s doing it for the kids.

We’ve all accepted that this can and will happen. There has to be a bit of vanity in it, in thinking that you can make a difference. It’s like a cowboy film, you have this huge posse wearing white hats and trying to do the right thing.”

bands beat a path to their door for pearls of wisdom?

“Sometimes they do, sometimes they think we’re complete idiots and has-beens,” he chuckles. “The last few generations of bands have been more connected. Stiff Little Fingers had a song called ‘Gotta Get Away’, which was literally, ‘we have to depart from this place and you won’t see us for dust’, whereas Ash have always had a good relationship with the place, David Holmes still lives here. A lot of those bands are putting something back, all in their own kind of way. Tim Wheeler is featured on the Oppenheimer album: they’re playing the Glasgowbury festival this month. Gary [Lightbody, Snow Patrol] certainly has helped hugely: if you look at the last Snow Patrol album, there are a lot of Northern Irish voices on there.

It took that band 10 years to become an overnight success and they feel it shouldn’t be as difficult for other people in the future.”

The opening of the centre has been a gradual one, from a public open day and gig last May, to now. Stuart, for one, is happy with the progress.

drunken night out, the Oh Yeah Centre in Belfast

For more information, see www.ohyeahbelfast.com

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The Hold Steady

The Power Of Positive Thinking

He’s one of our own, is Craig Finn. Like JFK, Bing Crosby, Conan O’Brien, hell, even Barack Obama, he’s Irish and proud of it. Only, it seems he didn’t realise how much until The Hold Steady first played Dublin in February last year, when an enthusiastic mob at the former Temple Bar Music Centre welcomed the band like returning natives.

“It’s funny, it’s not something I’d really thought about as an American,” says the Brooklyn band’s amiable frontman in The Academy’s tiny dressing room. “I mean, my Irish ancestors came to America a long time ago: it’s not like I knew them! But then I looked around and thought, well people kinda look like me and my family: there’s even street names the same as people I grew up around.”

So he feels extra welcome back this time?

“More so than I would have expected,” he admits. “We’re so used to apologising for being Americans that just people being nice is refreshing…”

The Hold Steady bug has caught hard and fast here since the release of their critical and commercial breakthrough album, Boys And Girls In America in 2006. Playing to a large, trans-generational Irish audience for the fourth time in 15 months, something about their sound has clearly made a connection here. Springsteen comparisons abound, of course, but no mention of The Hold Steady seems complete without phrases such as ‘classic rock revivalist’, ‘bar band’ and ‘blue-collar’: so, with their fourth album, Stay Positive, due imminently, are these labels still helpful or disparaging?

“I don’t find them disparaging,” says Finn. “Actually, it’s a way of saying that what we’re doing is timeless, something that’s removed from any fashion or trend. From our standpoint, it’s a smart move. If you’re attached to a movement, when that goes

…at Oxegen, Sunday, July 13

Words by Johnnie Craig

out, it can all be taken away from you. Bruce Springsteen is always going to be protected because he’s built his career on being honest, hard-working and pure. Those are the kind of attributes we took, and built them into something of our own.”

With a blistering four-year career trajectory like The Hold Steady’s, such a work ethic was a necessity. Their first two albums, Almost Killed Me and Separation Sunday, had no European distribution, but a hard-won fan base back home became the launch pad for global success.

“It seemed slow and was gradual in the States but, after Boys And Girls In America, we came over here, and the UK and Ireland just caught right up to where it was in the States,” he notes. A welltimed endorsement from Harry Potter actor Daniel Radcliffe can’t have been a bad transatlantic bridge either, but the third album’s success changed their working lives beyond recognition.

“There were a lot of new opportunities,” Finn enthuses.

“Things like Glastonbury, playing with The Rolling Stones and Springsteen, it all changed because suddenly people were listening. When the shows get bigger, you start to operate at a bigger level, it can be more about music. It’s almost like we’ve now earned the right to play the most music we can.”

Raised in Minneapolis, Finn’s musical journey began watching bands like The Replacements and Hüsker Dü in his hometown.

“I saw The Replacements right before they put out the record Let It Be – I was 13 or 14,” he recalls. “Looking back, I feel I might have been spoilt because I know all these music fans who never saw The Replacements in their prime.”

He formed Lifter Puller in 1994, a moderately successful Boston indie-rock band, which also featured Hold Steady guitarist

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The Hold Steady

“I’m in a rock band, I play 300 dates in a year, but I still want to be able to go out with my friend and his wife who are school teachers and be able to have a normal conversation, and not be like, ‘party, party, party’.”

Tad Kubler on bass. Finn’s gift for lyrical storytelling was apparent even then.

“I love the combination of music and lyrics,” he says. “I was drawn to music which, to my mind, had the best lyrics: The Replacements, Springsteen, Dylan. Those kind of things were exciting to me.”

The Hold Steady happened a decade later, after Finn and Kubler had upped sticks from Minneapolis and moved to Brooklyn, home to acts like Animal Collective and MGMT. Wasn’t there a danger of the neighbours complaining these new kids on the block weren’t ‘arty’ enough?

“There’s an accidental part to it,” Finn laughs. “After Lifter Puller, I wasn’t even sure I was going to do music again. Brooklyn was just the cheapest place in New York to get an apartment. Being in such a media centre, it’s a great home but we don’t have a crew of bands that we hang out with: New York’s a big place; there’s a million different scenes.”

Stay Positive sounds like the rollicking confirmation of a band who are very much sticking with the programme, but it’s as much about non-complacency as a reinforcement of their core beliefs.

“I think it’s definitely a Hold Steady record,” says Finn.

“When you’re making a new record, you go, ‘this is so different,’ but it’s kinda like when you’re on stage and you screw up - you think, ‘everyone heard that,’ but no one did. I think the band’s just become more musical in general: there’s all sorts of different instrumentation, like harpsichord, horns, stuff like that. It’s a continuation of what we’ve done before but we’ve tried new things.”

Seems it’s not so much Boys And Girls In America anymore as men and women too.

“It’s about trying to age gracefully,” he admits. “In rock ‘n’ roll, that’s not the easiest thing to do. It’s to do with being 36, soon to be 37 years old, and being in a rock band for a living. That’s something I was thinking a lot about: lyrically, the characters I’m talking about might be a little older and facing more adult problems than previously.”

Finn cites the album’s opener ‘Constructive Summer’ as

42

“currently my favourite song”, while he’s inordinately proud of another, ‘Both Crosses’: “It was a live, one-take thing, an acoustic Led Zeppelin III sort of number, one of those magical accidents.”

There’s also a track called ‘Lord, I’m Discouraged’, a fiveminute slowie that Finn describes as, “the cornerstone of the record” and appears to hark back to the religious theme of second album Separation Sunday.

“I always find a sense of peace and calm when I go to church,” he confesses. “I didn’t grow up in a strict, super-devout household, but we went to church on Sundays and Holy Days, so it became a part of me. As I got older, and ‘bigger picture’ things started happening – people having babies, people dying – I started to think about the relationship of the church, what it means to me, my life and my family. I still go to church – the older I get, the more I tend to embrace rather than reject it.”

Is Craig Finn, the man and the lyricist, therefore, looking increasingly inwardly for inspiration?

“Possibly,” he muses. “I think about people who live a sort of bohemian, artistic lifestyle and who then get older, have children or have relatives pass away: you want to keep some of your youthful exuberance, ideals, but you also have adult problems and situations to deal with. To give you an example, I’m in a rock band, I play 300 dates in a year, but I still want to be able to go out with my friend and his wife who are school teachers and be able to have a normal conversation, and not be like, ‘party, party, party’ – that’s something I’m constantly aware of.”

So he’s not saying rock ‘n’ roll is no country for old men, then?

“No!” he laughs. “In fact, in some cases, people are rooting for us because we’re unassuming, and we’re not (whispers conspiratorially) what rock stars are supposed to look like…”

Ah, so it’s not just about shaving off your famous beards, then.

“No, I put in a lot of thought every day to just staying healthy – keeping my voice, getting more exercise, eating more healthily than I ever have, just because it feels lousy otherwise,” he admits.

“You have the whole of rock history to look back on and, the older you get, the more easily you can see others’ mistakes.”

The Hold Steady play the Green Room at Oxegen on Sunday, July 13.

Blog Standard The tracks and artists being noticed online this month

by Niall Byrne

Holy Fuck vs The Porta Urinal The fascinating story of Paul Shirley, a former NBA player on holidays in Barcelona, and his experiences at Primavera Sound festival. Even though it’s on Holy Fuck’s blog, the whole story revolves around Shirley’s amazement at the design of a male portaloo. Sample quote: “These masterpieces brought together everything I like about Spain: a simplistic view of life and a relaxed take on pissing in public.”

3

http://tinyurl.com/5bgbfq

Franz Ferdinand’s New Direction Possibly. Bloggers have been buzzing about looping samples the Scots have posted on their website, which suggest the swap from indie to more funky rhythms, taking in Afro-beat and No Wave influences. We’ll find out in September for sure, but for now, these morsels are scintillating.

4 She & Him NPR Live Session In 99% of cases, actresses and actors wishing to record albums should have their tongues cut out and their fingers smashed on the pavement. Thankfully, State would rather leave Zooey Deschanel’s purty tongue well alone. Alongside M.Ward, under the moniker She & Him, Deschanel proves the exception in this wonderful session recorded by Steve Lillywhite, performing three songs from the duo’s timeless country-tinged Volume One album.

1

http://tinyurl.com/55gpgh

Deerhunter Micromixes Dontcha just love it when some of your favourite musicians make you a mixtape? Deerhunter frontman Bradford Cox asked his close friends Animal Collective to make a mixtape each and they obliged. The range of artists take in Thin Lizzy, Sugababes, Erykah Badu, J Dilla, Phil Collins and Spacemen 3. Now where’s that Leonard Cohen mixtape?

2

http://www.franzferdinand.co.uk/music.html

Mystery Jets Remixes The music bloggerati are going nuts for the UK’s Mystery Jets and their accompanying remixes. Duke Dumont, Diplo, Switch and Pilooski have all had a bash at their tunes. The Dumont remix of ‘Two Doors Down’ prompted Discodust to write “it sounds like it could be a huge Ibiza anthem”, while Curb Crawlers reckons “Duke Dumont makes you cry like a real man”. State says it’s a killer eight-minute epic and we’re gonna keep on playing it.

5

http://tinyurl.com/5cpmvl

blog of the month

http://deerhuntertheband.blogspot.com/

Idolator on videotape

http://idolator.com Not many blogs can keep up with the amount of news and views swirling around the music industry but Idolator can.

Bon Jovi fan attacks Jon Bon lovingly in Punchestown Overcome by JB’s rendition of ‘In These Arms’, a female fan holds on and doesn’t let go until security drags her away. Oops! We don’t think he was talking about you, love. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hVWRTetszPE

Prince & Michael Jackson join James Brown on stage Live from a televised charity event from 1987, a pre-white MJ impresses with his moves but Prince steals the show by arriving to the stage on the back of a burly white dude, gurning and gyrating his way through “a performance”. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=37psKso6ybw

Radiohead cover Portishead’s ‘The Rip’ backstage in St. Louis Thom and Jonny pay homage to the Bristol massive, acoustic style. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zPPH1qg8Qo4

Idolator specialises in an irreverent, sardonic daily look at happenings in the music industry. Whether it be a look at the latest American Idol, how Chris Martin is embarrassing himself in his promotional duties for Viva La Vida, industry shakeups, blogosphere hype or the R Kelly court-case, Idolator excels at it all. Their manifesto claims that “every time we introduce you to a new artist, we promise to wait at least three months before starting our own backlash against them.” So far, so good.

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State

Tricky

…at Oxegen, Friday, July 11

Bristol Whipped Tricky is late. In terms of State’s conversation with him, we’re talking about an hour and some problem with a cab. In terms of his musical output, let’s call it next 45

State

five years. It’s been that long since he released Vulnerable, an age for an artist who managed four albums in three years at the start of his career. Yet in the interim, Tricky has taken himself to new places and new roles before returning to his roots, namely the Knowle West area of Bristol that gives its name to his new record.

“It’s like a ‘thank you’ to the place,” he explains, that West Country drawl still very much in place, “because without Knowle West, I wouldn’t be here. All my friends, all my family, all my school friends are from there. Whether it was a negative or a positive experience, it made me who I am. I’m showing respect for the place.”

What was it like, we wonder?

“There were four generations of my family there, which was typical,” he recalls. “It’s like a white ghetto, a lot of families from Scottish or Irish descent. There was a strong community feel, which you don’t get so much in England anymore. I went back there the other day and saw all the kids of people I knew when I was growing up.”

Having turned 40 earlier this year, Tricky is of an age to remember Bristol’s troubled past. In 1980, the city was rocked by a brief but furious bout of rioting. “It was in a different area to where we lived,” he remembers. “I was down in St Paul’s the first night of the riots though, because I used to buy my weed there. I didn’t know too much about it but you got a sense that something was brewing. Every year after Glastonbury, they used to escort the travellers through Bristol and just leave them in St Paul’s, just drop them off. All these travellers, winos and drunks would be left there, which made things tense.”

Those relatively simple Bristol days are a long way off for him now, having been thrust into the public spotlight ever since

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Tricky

Maxinquaye announced his unique talent 13 years ago. Although never exactly a household face, he was able to live the rock star lifestyle to the full. Until, that is, he decided to move to New York, reconnect with his family and virtually disappear.

“That was good for me, to be anonymous,” he says. “Most artists see losing your anonymity as a small thing but for me it was a big, big deal. To be able to go to a club with hundreds of other people, to hang out and be one of the guys and people not know me was really good for me. A couple of my boys knew what I did but the majority of people in The Bronx had no idea who I was.”

Was he inspired musically by the city? “I get inspired to make music because I love it, not necessarily by my surroundings,” he avows. “I just record when I feel like it.”

Eventually, however, Tricky had to get back to the day job. Signed to new label, Domino, he started work on the record in London. The sessions, however, soon ground to a halt.

Why? “It was shit,” he says bluntly. “It sounded a bit like lots of other stuff, really weak. I need to put out music that you’ve never heard before.”

So what went wrong? “I was working with this dude Bernard Butler,” he says tersely before pausing.

That would’ve been something of an odd combination, we offer.

“Someone from Domino suggested that I do some writing with him and I was interested in working with a guitarist. By the time we’d finished six tracks, I thought, ‘nah, this is crap’. He’s a great guitarist but that’s about it. He’s very talented at writing riffs but he

State

Tricky

“Watching the news here it seems as though every day, someone gets stabbed.

They’re saying it’s more violent than America. I can definitely feel that when I’m walking around at night... if I was a kid, I would carry a weapon. That sounds harsh but when you hear about a guy getting stabbed on a bus because someone was throwing chips at his girlfriend, you start to wonder.”

can’t do anything that you’ve never heard before. Everything I did with him was really generic and boring. This version of the album is totally different. I kept six of the songs, melody and lyrics wise, but everything else, I just ripped apart.”

State hasn’t heard the aborted first attempt, but the version of Knowle West Boy that is now with us is quite something to behold. It’s a dizzying journey through musical genres, headed by a succession of vocalists but always driven from the shadows by the man himself. We’d be tempted to say that it’s Tricky’s best record since his debut but we’d be wrong: this is his best record, period. Does he feel that it chronicles the Bristol streets of his youth or those of 2008?

“A bit of both, I think,” he muses. “Now, it’s a lot worse though.

Watching the news here, it seems as though every day, someone gets stabbed. They’re saying it’s more violent than America. I can definitely feel that when I’m walking around at night. I don’t have to move around like a kid anymore, I can get cabs or whatever, but if I was a kid, I would carry a weapon. That sounds harsh but when you hear about a guy getting stabbed on a bus because someone was throwing chips at his girlfriend, you start to wonder.

What are you going to do? It escalates.”

It’s a subject that he has plenty of opinions on. “You have to get the kids early,” he opines. “Set up music programmes, sports programmes, youth clubs. You have to keep them interested. Put proper music programmes into schools, not shit ones. Get proper artists to talk to them and let the kids see artists that they look up to inspiring them. I know a lot of kids here who are doing real hardcore gangsta stuff and it’s not just about the music. Obviously,

American music is influencing them but you also have all these video games. No-one communicates any more, they’re all texting each other. Kids don’t talk to each other. London is so expensive, it costs so much to live here. How are you going to get that money?

You can’t blame a type of music for that. Really it’s the British government.”

How come? “They’ll spend £50 million on an opera house that isn’t doing anybody any good at all,” he notes. “They need to start putting money into the youth or you’re asking for trouble.

The government know what they’re doing, though: there needs to be a certain amount of crime so that you can pay for policemen, judges, lawyers, locksmiths and the rest. You have to keep some people poor to keep other people rich.

“When I was growing up, there was punk or Two-Tone, you had all these different tribes to belong to,” he continues, sounding like your dad mixed with Joe Strummer. “There’s nothing like that now. Belonging to something helps you through the hard times.

Now, they have just negative stuff, going round shooting cops on Grand Theft Auto, beating up women. When we were kids, we were out playing in the park. We got into a bit of trouble but at least we were doing something.”

So here we have an album that delves into the dark side of modern Britain, while referencing a musical history that runs from the ‘70s through to modern day trends. Where, we wonder, does his cover of Kylie’s ‘Slow’ fit in exactly? He cackles.

“I love that song so much and the video is excellent,” Tricky concludes. “If we’re going to have a pop star, I’d rather have Kylie than Madonna. I could watch her all day. I know the girl and I’ve always had a lot of respect for her: she’s a really nice girl.”

Tricky plays the Pet Sounds stage at Oxegen on Friday, July 11

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/////

State

Bon Iver

Hazy Shade Of Winter Words by Niall Byrne

“I reallllllly think I am going out of my head sometimes. I’m watching re-run marathons of sexual victims shows and shows about Sex in the City in a little barn house that my father built. I’m at least 60 miles away from anyone I love, sometimes more like 1,500. I am about 18 feet away from everything I love, however. Just up the poppel plank stairs, there is a pile of old guitars, a mound of microphones, wires, chords, electric boxes.

“Today, though I am taking a break from the previous three days of tirelessly working on an opus: seven songs that have succeeded to pull me through a hardened shell of myself, surprise me, entertain, impress and even heal me. They are me, and I am them, but, they sound nothing like I have ever really written before. No need to explain, I kind of understand.”

– Justin Vernon, January 3, 2007.

Sometimes you need to get away from it all. Sometimes you need to drop out of the hustle, find somewhere quiet, relax and have an aul’ think. Most people take a weekend trip to a city they’ve never visited before, or find a beach to soak up the sun and unwind. Most people, but not Justin Vernon. Vernon chose a remote forest cabin in the middle of nowhere, North Wisconsin, USA, as his private retreat in total solitude. In doing so, he discovered his new musical self, which he would christen Bon Iver, a debasement of the French for “good winter”. The plan was to get away from it all. The plan was to be alone. The plan didn’t include making one of the most honest, passionate and painful albums of 2008.

Speaking from his home in Eau Claire, Wisconsin, Vernon explains his reasoning for the three-month sojourn was a simple one, at least in the beginning. “I needed a place to live,” he sighs. “I needed a free place to live. That was the biggest thing. That’s the main reason. I didn’t exactly have any other reason than just to go

there and hang out. I knew it would be nice to be out in the woods because I love it up there. So it was an easy decision to make.”

His answer belies the other reasons for the change, which included the break-up of his previous band and the general feeling of helplessness. Some would call it an escape. To Vernon, it was a bump in the road. “I guess everyone is trying to get away from something at any given time. It just so happened that I had an opportunity to get away from whatever was happening in my life at that point. It turned out to be a good time to do that,” he says vaguely.

In his first few weeks at the cabin, he would fill his days by chopping wood and being proficient enough at hunting with a 300 mag Winchester rifle, killing deer for food. He had a wood stove to keep warm and recently installed running water, not clean enough to drink but suitable for bathing.

As melodies and musical ideas came to him more prominently, he realised his music equipment was packed into the car and the “very cathartic” recording process of For Emma, Forever Ago began. “I would say I was planning on making music but I wasn’t planning on making a record,” he notes.

You can almost see him put ‘record’ in miming hand quotes, despite the 9,000 kilometres separating Vernon from State.

His recording equipment consisted of an old laptop computer, a Pro-Tools setup and an old SM57 microphone. With the album developing, a thoroughly modern setback occurred: his Powerbook hard-drive crashed and burned. In a journal entry, Vernon later calls the material he lost “bad songs”. He buried his laptop in the snow in a private ceremony on the December 6, 2007. At the same time, he buried his musical past.

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Bon Iver

“I heard Jeff Buckley say something about performing live and being exhausted and pushing yourself: it’s kind of like a football player at the end of a game and you start making these amazing moves and you don’t even know how. You go into a zone and start making these moves that surprise you. That can be really magical in that regard.”

“It’s kind of like if I was carrying around pictures of myself from years past and just trying to save them, so I could somehow add them together to create who I am now,” he admits. “I think that’s how my songs always were. Instead, I just shed those. They were taken from me but it was good that they were, as it really gave me a new face.”

With a renewed sense of purpose, recording began to take over Vernon’s time there but he began to produce music that he wasn’t expecting.

“I would work for 14 hours a day and start to feel a little insane,” he recalls. “But I think that’s when you make interesting moves. I heard Jeff Buckley say something about performing live and being exhausted and pushing yourself: it’s kind of like a football player at the end of a game and you start making these amazing moves and you don’t even know how. You go into a zone and start making these moves that surprise you. That can be really magical in that regard.”

Two of these “moves” included using a falsetto voice he had been experimenting with and appropriating the unlikely influence of the Vienna Boys Choir, which can be heard in the eerie, choral tones of ‘Lump Sum’ and ‘Creature Fear’.

“It’s just something I always heard since I was a kid and I liked it so I figured I should seek it out,” he explains, “In fact, for a year prior to that, I had been working on choral only songs, where I built scores of stuff.”

Apart from boy choirs, it’s pretty obvious from the title that the album was inspired by a solitary person whose name may or may not be Emma. When State asks about her, he’s reluctant to talk details and so goes into vague mode about the title.

50

“To me, when that title came to me, it came very wholly and very intact,” he avows. “What that means to me is: it reads like a letter, a dedication if you will. It’s also referring to something else… like a road-sign,” he expands. “Like all things point for Emma, towards Emma. Like Emma is an idea, a place that builds up in people’s minds as this old love. So it has a double meaning. It gives power to this person but also is an attempt to take the power away from that person: the power that they have over you.”

Later, when probed a bit further, he sighs heavily and concedes that Emma was his first true love.

“It was just a bunch of personal things,” he confesses. “Many people talk about love and lost love and all that. That’s just a part of what people go through. I was examining these things that I never really knew how to deal with for many years. I finally think I had the opportunity and enough space to do that. That’s what I concentrated on doing up there.”

Fast forward to the present and For Emma, Forever Ago is gaining plaudits from the music press and finding new fans at every turn. His live performances have had audiences rapt, with his debut Dublin show moved to the larger capacity Tripod from Crawdaddy due to demand. His life is a lot more hectic than those months in the cabin but Vernon is loving it and his new mindset.

“I think hectic is the right word. There’s stuff to go on, stuff to get used to but it’s everything that you want, everything you look for,” he laughs. “I didn’t have any direction and that’s what gave me an honest chance to make a record like that. It has given me a new perspective is all: a way, a path to follow for the next record. I need to shed all expectations that anyone would have for me. Just make a record based on what’s going on.”

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Fundraiser for the Temple Street Children’s Hospital Cystic Fibrosis Unit: The Colette Quartet and The Graceland Gospel Choir, Kevin Doyle and The Way It Was Orchestra and The Divas of Jazz. Doors 8 / Adm ₏15

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Sassy Sue’s Go Go Inevitable Presents 2nd Birthday Celebration ‘Quadrophenia’ Screening with special introduction by Irish Jack Doors 7.30/Adm â‚Ź10

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The Pony Girls present Carnage Cabaret. Doors 8pm / Adm â‚Ź20

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Aiken Promotions Present Jim White

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The Big Bang Festival 2008 presents Diwan Eireann - Arab / Irish music project with Abdullah Chhadeh (Qanun), Roisin Elsafty (Vocals), Emer Mayock (Flutes, Pipes), Francesco Turrisi (Piano, Percussion), Nick Roth (Sax, Clarinet) Doors 8 / Adm â‚Ź10

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No Disco

Far more than a mere musical footnote, for the decade between 1993 and 2003, No Disco was required viewing for Ireland’s qualitystarved music fans and manna from heaven for local acts.

This Ain’t No Party Words by Tanya Sweeney ~ Illustration by BrenB

In more ways than one, RTE’s best-loved music programme, No Disco began and ended with a ‘Cannonball’. As to believe. the familiar bass-line of The Breeders’ track of the same name kick-started the programme’s first episode in 1993, little did viewers realise that they were at the mouth of a quiet storm for both Irish broadcasting and the country’s music scene. In the years since the show’s demise in 2003, No Disco has been canonised for its audacious and impassioned music programming, its lo-fi production values imbued with a laissez-faire charm. But scratch the surface of No Disco’s tale, and you’ll find that its journey was much less romantic and more turbulent than first meets the eye.

Contrary to current consensus, No Disco appeared on Irish screens after what had actually been a rather fertile time for Irish music video programming. From 1984-’87, MT USA – fronted by the late Vincent Hanley – was broadcast on RTE, showcasing rock videos from across the US. Although something of an anomaly in the Sunday morning schedule, The Beatbox (later 2TV) was another well-liked series that championed local contenders among more established international acts.

Although No Disco’s singular contribution to Irish music is roundly recognised, it appears that its origins were a little less idealistic than many would like

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“It was a strategic decision on RTE’s part – a political one more than a financial one – to base more productions outside Dublin,” recalls Colm O’Callaghan, a one-time music journalist who originally devised the show. “Someone thought that the best way to test the waters was to do a music show as it was the cheapest sort of show to do.”

Upon landing the gig as producer/ director for the first season, O’Callaghan’s first port of call was to sound out Donal Dineen, an old colleague from DCU’s Bullsheet paper, to present the show.

“Peter Collins, who was then on The Beatbox, was one of the names bandied about at the time,” recalls O’Callaghan.

“But I liked that Donal had a terrific breadth of knowledge.”

Still, many were initially thrown by Dineen’s trademark reticent presenting style. By his own admission, Donal’s smoothly cold on-screen demeanour belied his inward terror.

“I did a screen test, but I still think there was a palpable sense of panic in every link I ever did,” he admits. “I’d started developing breathing difficulties and found it hard to get the words out on occasion. I didn’t ever ‘own’ them half the time: I did get better as time went on

but that unease never really went away.

Knowing what I know now, doing No Disco would have been a lot of fun but I was constantly living in fear of being taken aside or being laughed at.”

In time, his uncompromising and soft-spoken ways would become central to No Disco’s winning formula.

“I think it gave him an air of mystique and cut him apart from the pack,” notes O’Callaghan. “When RTE management saw No Disco, they really did not know what to make of it. About four weeks in, people were like, ‘get this guy off the air, he’s patently not suited to TV’ but I was batting for Donal and there was an unspoken thing that if he goes, we all go.

Seven or eight weeks in, the show received a great write-up in The Irish Times, which is the sole critical barometer used by RTE management. It ended up becoming its saving grace.”

With No Disco promptly nailing its colours to the mast, audiences immediately warmed to its mesmeric and enticing stew of littleknown indie videos. Referring to No Disco’s output, O’Callaghan admits: “It was all total subjectivity. Donal liked one thing

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Stiff Little Fingers

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and I liked another.”

“It was an exciting time,” adds Dineen.

“It was feasible to produce videos outside of a production suite and it was a great time for music videos aesthetically, as stuff from Michel Gondry and Chris Cunningham was coming in to us. My own creativity got ignited after seeing these videos myself.”

Regardless, making the show on a non-existent budget instantly became a labour of love, and an intensely complicated one at that.

“We didn’t get assigned a camera crew...there would be a crew shooting the news down in Cork and we would use them if they became free, normally on their downtime on a Monday,” recalls O’Callaghan. “If they had to be called off somewhere to a breaking news story, well then we had to concoct a Plan B. Bearing in mind this was also the time before mobiles and email addresses, it was a logistical nightmare.”

A nightmare that left some lasting

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memories, however. “One interview that stands out for me is the Jeff Buckley one we did,” offers Dineen. “I got it simply by bumping into him on the street, and after his death, I found out he’d only given a few TV interviews. The BBC showed a documentary on him a few years ago, and in the middle of it was some of the footage, which was amazing to see. I’m a huge fan, and if anything, I was taught that life isn’t a rehearsal, and these things don’t tend to come around twice.”

After Dineen’s departure in 1995 to Radio Ireland, Rory Cobbe – then splitting his time between working at Sir Henry’s in Cork and as a radio researcher – took over the production and directing reigns. He then set about the arduous task of finding a new presenter via an open audition. Armed with untold amounts of enthusiasm, newcomer Uaneen Fitzsimons immediately stood out from the pack.

“She wasn’t right in many ways; first off she was a girl and in indie clubland, so unless you’re Kim Deal or Julie Burchill, you’re in trouble,” Cobbe smiles. “Donal was quite serious so we looked at a lot of different people: we chose Uaneen to take it away from that place where it was.”

“I was happy it continued,” adds Dineen. “Uaneen and Leagues got to put their own stamp on it, and I couldn’t have wished for better people to do that. I was aware of my own limitations at the time, and the show was upped immeasurably by Uaneen.”

In later years, No Disco grew further in scope thanks to a various special reports and interviews: most notably, an insightful report on the independent music scene in Ireland gave voice to bands like Wormhole, Luggage, Decal and Bambi in 1997. Further adding weight to No Disco’s influence, Fitzsimons had secured a nightly 2FM presenting slot.

At the age of 29, Fitzsimons’ star was shining gloriously bright... until tragedy

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stuck on November 22, 2000. Travelling from Limerick with promoter Joe Clarke, she was involved in an accident when their car collided with an articulated truck in Laois, and died instantly.

“She’d come back from Australia and we did two weeks of programmes in that week and she went down to Limerick,” recalls Cobbe. “She meant to get the train back, but there were strikes, so she took a lift. An hour before she died, I had an argument with her because it turned out a PJ Harvey interview we did with her was still in her house. So she was yelling at me ‘it’s not my fault, how was I to know?’ As far as I recall, that was the last interview she did, for us anyway.”

Fitzsimons’ untimely and tragic death sent shockwaves throughout Dublin’s music community, and the No Disco crew were particularly bereft.

“It was devastating of course, as she used to [practically] live in my house with my wife and daughter,” notes Cobbe. “We were close in friendship but I had to make a tribute show straightaway, so had to sort of get over it all quite quickly.”

Ironically, Cobbe first encountered Leagues O’Toole at Fitzsimons’ funeral in her hometown of Ardglass, Co. Down.

Aware of O’Toole’s incisive work as a local music promoter and music journalist, Cobbe persuaded the reluctant Leagues to attend open auditions.

“I thought he was really good fun, like a child trapped in an adult’s body and I figured he’d be great fun to work with,” recalls O’Toole. “Oddly enough, I wasn’t interested in doing TV at all. I’m really not that outgoing and have never been the type of person to want to be the centre of attention.”

Referring to the less-than-enviable task of filling Uaneen’s shoes, he notes: “I tried not to think about that side of it too much. Obviously, Uaneen was born to do it...she had a true star quality and I’m sure had she lived, she’d have gone on to work in the US or for the BBC. Fortunately no one was overly negative and there was loads of goodwill put my way.”

Much like Dineen before him, O’Toole’s reticent on-screen persona was intrinsic to his appeal, adding further to the show’s by-now-established low-key ethos.

“For the first few months, I was pretty awkward and wooden, and was trying to loosen up a bit,” he admits. “I was

No Disco

pretty self-conscious in the beginning. I loved picking the music and doing the interviews but loathed doing the links.”

“Leagues had a different pace,” affirms Cobbe. “The bands he liked were about to come up, so it was a new angle. When Uaneen was on the show, she was more the commercial side and I had the edge. Then Leagues came on board and was making me feel like the commercial one.”

Referring to the pair’s modus operandi, he adds: “In a way, we were trying to make people uncomfortable.

Why play four minutes of The Smiths, when you have a chance to hit people with The Last Post? If there was a chance to play something on the show that you couldn’t see anywhere else, we took it.”

As far as teams go, the Cobbe-O’Toole combo proved a devilishly winning formula. Again, several one-off specials were aired, including a Planxty tribute show in March 2003 and, most memorably, a special on Dublin-based animation pioneers Delicious 9.

“The Del 9 lads made me into Homer Simpson and The Incredible Hulk for the links, which was just brilliant,” enthuses O’Toole. “It was definitely a favourite episode of mine, not just because I got to kick back as a cartoon.”

Oftentimes, things were a little less fun: “At the start, Rory sat me down and said, ‘I don’t mind you interviewing The Redneck Manifesto but you’ll also have to do The Stereophonics too’,” recalls O’Toole.

“I reckoned I’d sound like a dick and it was indeed a fiasco. They were nice enough guys but I had no interest in being there and they could tell that.”

At its zenith, No Disco was commanding around 40,000 viewers per episode; no mean feat considering it aired at around 11.15pm.

Still, news of No Disco’s axing came as a surprise to many...but not to anyone within the show’s inner sanctum.

“It went full circle. No one was watching it in the beginning and no one was watching it at the end,” says Cobbe.

Offers RTE’s Dave Fanning: “There was a lot of naivety when the show went.

Shows happen, shows thrive, and then shows get taken off the air.”

Nonetheless, enraged viewers came out in steadfast support of the show.

Headed by journalist Kim Porcelli and

The Dudley Corporation’s Dudley Colley, a hastily-fashioned petition was soon winging its way to RTE management.

“I was shocked and hugely disappointed, as it was one of the few shows at the time in Ireland that you made sure you were home to watch,” recalls Colley. “I guess [the petition] was born out of youthful indignation. If anything I was delighted for Leagues and everyone on the show that it got the send-off that it did.”

Singer-songwriter Adrian Crowley, himself a beneficiary of No Disco’s dedicated music policy, was another vocal supporter: “I think Uaneen was the first person to help me out and genuinely take an interest in what I was doing. Maybe it was the right time to end but at the time it was tragic.”

Soon, over 4,500 signatures, many of them from independent musicians and industry figureheads, had been collected.

Among the notable names that were on the petition were David Kitt, Neil Hannon, Glen Hansard and David Gray.

Alas, Colley’s and Porcelli’s honourable efforts were in vain, and so the final episode of the show was aired on March 23 2003. Low, Sigur Ros, Mic Christopher, Planxty, Bonnie Prince Billy, The Tycho Brahe, Johnny Cash and Creative Controle made up the set-list for No Disco’s last hurrah. In the months that followed, No Disco’s influence was lauded at length: even now, the show remains more than a mere footnote in Irish music history to many.

Of course, No Disco wasn’t without its successors: TG4 produced the similarly esoteric Rianta, with Cian Ó Cíobháin at the show’s helm. The Last Broadcast was billed as an ostensible follow-up to No Disco in RTE, but as its host Dave Fanning asserts, never the twain really met.

“We had Bon Jovi on the fucking thing,” he laughs. “No Disco was cool, and we’re just not trying to be cool. I think No Disco was trying to make more of a statement and, like John Peel, 70% of it was impenetrable to most people.”

Even now, Cobbe is constantly reminded of No Disco’s evergreen legacy: “People did come up to me years later saying ‘you ruined my band ‘cos we broke up when you wouldn’t play our video’. I mean, what can you say to that?”

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Pendulum

The Swing Kids Words by David McLaughlin

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In the centre is a neon explosion of spandex, Lycra, legwarmers, sun visors and glowsticks. To the left, angular, dyed-black, chemically straightened fringes hide pierced lips and flesh tunnelled ears. To the right, unkempt beards, studded leather and oversized, large print t-shirts with indecipherable band logos. And every single person without fail doing their best ‘big fish, little fish, cardboard box’, bearing shit-eating grins across their mugs. For once, the old cliché is true: the kids are finally united.

Celebrating the success of second album In Silico this summer with a lap of honour around the UK and Ireland, the legend of drum ’n’ bass outfit Pendulum is rapidly mushrooming. Taking in student unions, traditional clubbing venues and rock festivals such as Download and Projekt Revolution, the Aussie five-piece are cross pollinating in a way the Brothers Chemical only ever dreamed about.

“People are really desperate for something new,” reckons bassist/producer Gareth McGrillen. “These days our audiences are made up of emo fans, metallers and ravers all together, totally going for it. There is no folding of arms or chinscratching going on. No matter what people are into, they all react the same way. You have to: it’s a full on, balls to the wall sonic assault.”

Relocating to London in 2004 following the frenzied, underground buzz about breakthrough single ‘Vault’, McGrillen along with childhood friend and vocalist Rob Swire set to work on debut album Hold Your Colour, enlisting the help of guitarist Perry ap Gwynedd, DJ Paul ‘El Hornet’ Harding and drummer Kodish. Selling 250, 000 copies in the UK alone upon its release in 2005, they went onto headline the dance stage at Glastonbury, collaborate with The Freestylers, remix The Prodigy and install themselves as dance-rock crossover kings du jour.

Feverishly championed by critics and drum ’n’ bass purists alike, with each achievement Pendulum subsequently notched up, it wasn’t long before the backlash began. When In Silico revealed a more melodic, metal-influenced and less stringently drum ’n’ bass oriented Pendulum earlier this summer, knives were duly sharpened.

“As the hate has grown, so has the size of our audience, so we must be onto something,” laughs McGrillen. “We definitely have that Marmite effect. You either absolutely love us or absolutely hate us, but we don’t read reviews any more and we’ve only upset the drum ’n’ bass hardcore because we haven’t adhered to their rigid ideas of what the genre should be about.

“We understand the sentiment but we’re not 10 years deep in the game,” he continues. “We’re still new to it, so we prefer to make our music sound however we feel is right. We aren’t entrenched in the culture and we weren’t raised on a London council estate, so why shouldn’t we be allowed to develop it and evolve our sound how we see fit? On our first album, we held our influences at arm’s length, worried about drum ’n’ bass snobbery if we put some guitars

Pendulum

…at Oxegen, Friday, July 11

in there, so we didn’t let ourselves go too crazy. This time, we let go of that fear.”

As readily as the drum ’n’ bass fraternity accepted the electronic wizards of Oz on their first album, so too have the more traditionally guitar inclined fans of the broader rock community this time around. Though their music is still essentially steeped in synths and beats, it is the band’s notorious live intensity that has earned the eternal love of their newfound devotees and it is on that battlefront they will win over defectors and the instinctively cynical.

“I’ve never seen as many circle pits in my life as I have on this tour!” says an incredulous McGrillen. “A lot of the people who come to see us live go away from the gig and post on internet forums saying ‘okay, I hated them before but I get it now’. Our audiences really go nuts.

“Live, drum ’n’ bass and metal share a similar energy and I think this new manifestation of Pendulum has made it palatable for people into rock and metal, because it is presented in a way that highlights how the two aren’t so separate. Once people get that, they never look back.”

While the marriage of synthesized electronics and organic rock music is nothing new – The Prodigy, Pitchshifter and Enter Shikari have all been there and done that – the Perth ex-pats are keen to avoid the anaemic, ‘between stools’ trap inherent in the crossover lineage.

“With In Silico, we wanted a seamless fusion of electronic music and rock music, without it sounding cheesy,” McGrillen insists. “In the past, electronic bands have thrown guitar samples over the top of their music and it sounds really blatant. On the flip side, there have been metal bands that layered synths over their guitars and drums and it just doesn’t work. We’re looking for the perfect balance.”

Finding that balance with the ungainly oil-and-water pairing of metal and drum ’n’ bass isn’t going to be easy and regardless of growing commercial recognition, Pendulum seem forever destined to be in the firing line from whichever musical coterie is feeling the pinch of unfamiliarity the most. The bias-busting endeavour itself, however, seems reward enough.

“We’re always going to cop flak because we’re taking people out of their comfort zone,” McGrillen admits. “If someone is brought up on rock, their idea of rock is this unshakeable certainty that they probably won’t hear in our assimilation of it, so they get scared and the same is true of the dance people. You always meet with disdain and confusion when you fuck with people’s heads but that’s what we’re all about - we like fucking with people’s heads.”

Pendulum play the Main Stage at Oxegen on Friday, July 11, before returning for shows at Nugent Hall, Belfast, on November 24 and the RDS Main Hall, Dublin, on November 25.

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…at Oxegen, Friday, July 11

Studio rows, DJ sets to “very knowledgeable” Irish audiences, side projects, side partings, the joy of farming, Joy Division. Oxegen’s coming: This... is Interpol.

Words by Kara Manning

They might be a quintessential New York band, but on this warm June day, drummer Sam Fogarino is a long way from Williamsburg’s Bedford Avenue stop on the L train. In fact, next 59

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the virtuoso stickman is chatting with State on his iPhone in the middle of Athens, Georgia – yes, REM country – and bragging about the promising crop of tomatoes he’s nurturing on his recently purchased, half-acre spread (“a mini-plantation as opposed to a farm” says Fogarino wryly). He’s also growing rosemary, oregano, fennel, parsley and tarragon and threatens, at any minute, to “go pull a salad.”

Plus, anathema for those who can’t imagine an Interpol member dressed in anything but severe, Hedi Slimane-like dark suits, Fogarino confesses that “the fact I have a pair of jeans on now might be perceived as ‘oh my god.’” Are they Gap jeans? “No, I did have a pair of Gap jeans,” sighs Fogarino. “These are just straightup Levi’s.”

Lest you do a little rock ‘n’ roll math and figure that ‘Athens + farming + drummer’ equals a Bill Berry-inspired defection on the imminent horizon, think again. Fogarino is still keeping a place in Jersey City, near Manhattan, anticipating the time that he and his Interpol bandmates – vocalist/guitarist Paul Banks, guitarist/ vocalist Daniel Kessler and bassist Carlos “D” Dengler – finally meet up in a rehearsal room to discuss the trajectory of their fourth album, the eventual follow up to 2007’s biting Our Love To Admire, the band’s first major label release on Parlophone/EMI. In fact, Fogarino feels a lot of empathy for another EMI band that seem to be shouldered with the all-too-taxing responsibility of keeping Interpol’s major label sugar daddy in the black, Coldplay, who just released their fourth album Viva La Vida or Death And All His Friends.

“Chris! I just bought a house, man! You better sell some records,” jokes Fogarino before addressing the pressure being foisted onto Martin’s band. “It’s totally ridiculous and unfair.

They’re at the mercy of what everyone’s at the mercy of. On the industry side, it’s just a bunch of fucking second-guessing over and over again, because the major record label industry ignored where the trends were leading the industry. And of course, the industry is going to point its fucking finger at a band and go, ‘it’s up to you.’”

The drummer says that Interpol aren’t aware of any fingerjabbing in their direction since Our Love To Admire, which has sold 500,000 copies internationally and bowed at No. 4 on the Billboard Album Chart in the US, No. 2 on the UK chart and No. 1 in Ireland, has thus far failed to sell as many copies as their 2002 debut Turn on the Bright Lights or 2004’s Antics (each of which has clocked up over 600,000 sales worldwide). But you can’t help but sense that there is some doubt in Fogarino’s vague and uncertain tone about how that fourth effort will be negotiated, given his disappointment with the recording of their last release.

“It definitely wasn’t an easy album to make,” he admits. “I don’t know if it was because of the pressures of that third album.

I think it was just the time and the place, to be honest. A lot of personal things were going on with individual band members that just didn’t create a good band dynamic and I think that was really at the heart of it. Interpol are in control of everything we do, we can’t really pass the buck onto something as unavoidable as pressure. That’s to be expected and you can’t falter because of expectations, whether it’s imagined or not, so you’ve got to put that in its place right away. Where the band was personally really didn’t match up and it’s the least band-oriented album that was made out of the three. As soon as the thing was tracked, nobody was in the same room together anymore.”

The genesis of each Interpol album begins with music – some

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Interpol

of it no more than chord progressions or sketchy proposals - that Kessler brings to his bandmates to evaluate and vote on equally.

But Fogarino says that occasionally that idealised democracy is overturned by a “dictatorship” when a member gets stubbornly or even belligerently attached to an idea, dismissing all other opinions. Case in point is the roundabout and repetitive ‘Who Do You Think’ on Our Love…, a track which Fogarino dislikes and says he thought “was going to do me in personally”.

“It gets a little heated when somebody feels strongly about a certain idea and wants to develop that idea and possibly others may not be so into it,” Fogarino pauses and laughs a little. “Interpol is the kind of band where we can get together, have a little group critique and take a song that we love and actually turn around and start an argument about something that we all love because of the different aspects of what we think makes that song amazing. So we can still find an argument within an agreement.”

What needs to change for the fourth album? Fogarino, who blithely calls himself the “Switzerland” of the four very dissimilar members, continues: “[Interpol] has to get back to the original essence of a band that is a collaboration and works together as a driving unit. This last record didn’t have that. And the more I separate myself from it, the more time goes by, if I stop and listen to it, I really feel it becomes very apparent. I like the music on [Our Love…] but I think if it were executed in a different way, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

While Fogarino, 39, a native Philadelphian and former vintage clothing store co-owner, joined the band eight years ago, Interpol were founded back in 1997 when Kessler, now 33, Banks, 30, and Dengler, 34, were all students at New York University. Although they gigged throughout New York, actively promoted themselves and were local favourites prior to their debut album, the band remained largely under the mainstream radar, even by hype-prone Manhattan standards. The quartet did find early champions via Glasgow’s The Delgados and that group’s singer Emma Pollack, after Kessler handed her a demo.

Interpol released their EP Fukd I.D. #3 on The Delgados’ own Chemikal Underground label in December 2000, a now impossible-to-find release which included a nascent version of their eventual calling card, ‘PDA’. Just about 10 months later, in the aftermath of 9/11 and a grieving, disoriented New York, the men of Interpol were in a Connecticut studio recording their debut album, which they self-financed, juggling day jobs with rock ‘n’ roll. They signed with indie label Matador – a label that had rejected them twice before – by the following spring and in August 2002 dropped Turn On The Bright Lights, the feverishly bleak, tautly executed album that would alter their very existence.

The album became a critical darling and while not a commercial juggernaut, sold well enough, and in the States, it added sheen to hopes for a vital, resurrected New York rock scene.

That Manhattan and Brooklyn-fuelled hipster horde included privileged boys The Strokes, who released Is This It in October 2001, Jonathan Fire*Eater survivors The Walkmen, and the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs – and their tattered tights-wearing frontwoman Karen O – whose debut album Fever To Tell followed in 2003 after two EPs. While a Blur vs. Oasis showdown didn’t quite percolate between The Strokes and Interpol, it was oddly the impeccably dressed Interpol, not the shaggy, leather-jacketed Julian Casablancas’ crew,

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Interpol

“Interpol is the kind of band where we can get together, have a little group critique and take a song that we love and actually turn around and start an argument about something that we all love because of the different aspects of what we think makes that song amazing. So we can still find an argument within an agreement.”

who found themselves relegated to the Manchester camp, thanks to Banks’ keening, mournfully distracted vocals and the band’s darkly propulsive melodic structure.

You don’t need to mention Ian Curtis or Joy Division to Fogarino. He’ll do it for you, swiftly grousing about the tag attached to Interpol as “Anglophiles who are in love with Manchester 1982.” State hesitates to mention that Curtis died in 1980, but Fogarino briskly continues along that particular Madchester road on his own, grumbling that any comparison between Joy Division and Interpol at this stage “makes him laugh”.

But he does admit that when walking down a London street with his wife, photographer Christy Bush, not long ago, he spotted

the 2007 release Joy Division: Martin Hannett’s Personal Mixes, the eccentric producer’s alternate mixes, outtakes and studio work with the band on both Unknown Pleasures and Closer, in a shop window. And Fogarino, torn by consumer desire and caution, didn’t know what to do.

“As an [audiophile], I was intrigued by that, just to hear this stripped down take of these albums, because Hannett was such a bizarre character and recorded a lot of the Factory Records stuff,” he recalls. “It wasn’t even about buying the record to go study song arrangements or hear a different take of Joy Division. This was a very technical view of how they were recorded and so that’s a big turn on for me.” Fogarino sighs. “But there’s no way I’m going

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to walk into a shop in Soho and buy this fucking CD. You know: ‘There you go! It’s the drummer’s fault.’”

In turn, he also pities Birmingham band Editors, who will be performing on the same bill as Interpol at Kildare’s Oxegen Festival mainstage on July 11, for being pilloried in the music press as copying the New York band.

“That shows you how much the media at times has their fucking heads up their asses,” Fogarino says good-naturedly. “We get this knock for allegedly being Manchester revivalists and can’t shake that tag no matter how much Hammond organ we put on the record. And Editors, who are a real British band, are called the English Interpol.”

As for the other New York-based bands appearing at Oxegen – like Vampire Weekend, Yeasayer, The National, The Hold Steady and We Are Scientists – Fogarino says that while he likes Empire State groups like Yeasayer and A Place To Bury Strangers (“I love their whole aesthetic: that big wall of brilliant noise”) he feels that he, and maybe all of Interpol, are now largely removed from the local scene they once invigorated, unfamiliar with individuals or bands. And it’s not simply due to his recent move to Athens.

“I felt withdrawn from it the minute we started touring our asses off,” he admits. “I’m just as surprised by some of these bands as some kid in Kansas would be, even though they’re technically around the block.”

Interpol

Their Albums To Admire

But distance – from Gotham and his bandmates – has also galvanized Fogarino creatively as well as sharpening his gardening skills. Using the moniker ‘Sam Fog’, he contributed a track on Nine Inch Nails’ remix release Year Zero, along with The Knife, Ladytron and The Faint. He’s been making informal rounds as a DJ for fun, including a night at The Academy in Dublin on Oxegen Festival eve (“I really like the people who promote the event”) where he’s keen to have the chance to do a “genre-less” set, spinning The Incredible Bongo Band and Boards of Canada or Leftfield segueing into Black Francis for a room of musicallyastute Irish clubgoers, whom he calls “very open and very knowledgeable”.

Most significantly, Fogarino has a new side project called Magnetic Morning, his collaboration with Swervedriver guitarist and vocalist Adam Franklin. Given his marked shift in exuberance when discussing Magnetic Morning, Fogarino seems more excited about that venture than he does about the prospects for Interpol’s fourth album. As a longtime fan of the Oxford-born Swervedriver (“they were my Nirvana back in the early ‘90s”), Fogarino enthuses that it’s “kind of insane” that he’s actually working with Franklin; the duo released an EP on iTunes in late 2007 of four slow-burning adagios, and will be recording an entire album in Fogarino’s Athens studio in late summer, with a three-week tour to follow in October. “[It allows] us to step out of our usual paradigms,” he explains. “Usually, Adam is the one who writes every note of a song for others to play and for him to come into a situation where he doesn’t initially come up with all of the material is very interesting for him. Over the past couple of years, it’s been this big email game where I’ll work on this melody or chord progression and send it to him, totally out of context! And he’ll find something, write a vocal melody and turn it into a song. And then we started flipping it around and he’d initiate some ideas and

Turn On The Bright Lights (2002, Matador) Having honed their sound in the clubs of New York since 1997, Interpol’s debut came shimmering out of the speakers on waves of smouldering guitar, brooding bass and drumming as tight as a fish’s arse. The real ‘wow’ factor, however, was the cinematic menace of frontman Paul Banks. Turn On The Bright Lights finished the year in most Top Tens, including being named Album of the Year by the hugely influential Pitchfork. Highlights include the stunning ‘PDA’, the serrated guitar assault of ‘Obstacle #1’ and the bleak but brilliant paean to their hometown,‘NYC’.

Antics (2004, Matador) Their sophomore effort proved no difficult second album for the quartet, showcasing a newfound indie pop sensibility, while a chink of light had seemingly entered the gloom of their debut. Tracks like ‘Slow Hands’, ‘C’Mere’ and ‘Evil’ proved real show-stoppers, both on record and on their non-stop touring to promote the album, and remain guaranteed floor-fillers at indie discos from Belfast to Brooklyn.

Indeed, Antics gave its name to one of Dublin’s most successful indie club nights.

Our Love To Admire (2007, Parlophone) Their major label debut saw Interpol beefing up their sound somewhat, with the addition of keyboards to the mix. Other than the slick synth sounds, however, it was pretty much business as usual, despite being the first of their three albums recorded in the Big Apple. The band, however, had successfully crossed over to mainstream success, with Our Love… debuting at number 4 in the Billboard Top 200 and number 1 here in Ireland on its release last summer. It also showcased a wry sense of humour, as evidenced by second single, ‘No I In Threesome’.

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Interpol

I would sonically fuck up an Adam Franklin song and make it a Magnetic Morning song.”

Given Fogarino’s commitment to this endeavour through October and vagaries about his bandmates’ whereabouts when they’re not on tour together, the opportunity for him, Banks, Carlos D and Kessler to come together in a rehearsal room to hash out new material seems distant.

While Interpol’s summer schedule isn’t maddening – their four-week gallop through Europe and Canada this month also includes Suffolk’s Latitude Festival and Scotland’s T in the Park – Fogarino says there will be no new songs unveiled. When asked, he speaks elliptically of the “timing being off” and when pressed when the time might be right, he says that after Interpol put the brakes on their touring in early autumn, “we’ll start seeing what’s

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up”. One thing that is certain, says Fogarino, is that the band must coalesce in a way they didn’t for Our Love To Admire.

“We’ve all confronted that fact and are really open,” he says.

“I think we’re all in different head spaces this time around, so when we do finally get into that mode, I think it’s going to be a smoother process.”

He considers how he’d like Interpol to be remembered in the future annals of rock history. “I just want it to come down to the band having integrity,” he surmises. “Not forgetting that it’s a band: nothing more, nothing less. Any record could be great or it could be the worst experiment ever and bomb. But there’s something about going on stage and performing live that is really the completion of the cycle. Writing a song, the documentation of it, and really presenting it to people in a live arena: I think that’s the most important thing for Interpol.”

Interpol play the Main Stage at Oxegen on Friday, July 11. Sam Fogarino DJs at The Academy, Dublin, on Thursday, July 10.

søren solkær starbird

“We get this knock for allegedly being Manchester revivalists and can’t shake that tag no matter how much Hammond organ we put on the record. And Editors, who are a real British band, are called the English Interpol.”

Louth Contemporary Music Society in association with Dundalk Arts OfďŹ ce, Louth County Arts OfďŹ ce and The Irish Times present:

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www.louthcms.org

Holidays By Mistake Fake being a local around the world

For one week every year, part of the Nevada desert turns into the most hedonistic party town on the planet. Welcome to Burning Man.

The sandstorm creates a blizzard of seismic proportions. State is already arts and cultural festival in the world and dazed and confused but what it now sees just throws everything into the realm of the plain bizarre. A grandad (and we do not use this term pejoratively) clad in a blue velvet mini dress and Little-Bo-Peep style bonnet is dancing around in a voodolike trance, offering ‘special cookies’ to anyone who had lost their tent, camper van or sanity in this Wizard of Oz type mini cyclone.

Let us repeat that. An 81-year-old man, as thin as a rake, who bears an uncanny resemblance to the character Blue from the film Old School, wearing a dress and high on what clearly must be the hardest narcotics known to man, is dancing around uncontrollably with his naked and let’s face it, wrinkly old wife.

What next? Dorothy clicking her heels and whisking us all away to the yellow brick road. But alas no, this is not Kansas and State is no Toto. This is Burning Man, the most outrageous, avant garde

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State is here to test out the legendary event and embark on a seven-day journey of unmitigated madness.

Every year on an empty lake bed in the middle of the Nevada desert, 10 hours from any civilisation, something amazing happens. In a huge burst of creativity in what looks like a wonderful mirage, a psychedelic city springs up out of nowhere, plays hard for a week and then completely disappears back into the ground as if it never existed.

Burning Man is the playground for the extravagant, the ostentatious and the lunatic fringe in society. Every year, thousands of people create an alteruniverse in the searing heat of the desert.

Everything is brought in to create themed camps, ranging from cloud temples, shamen and witch tents, Willie Wonka’s chocolate factory, monster roller-skating discos, human carcass showers, soulmate searching libraries, naked mud

dancing and portable bars: all built and subsequently deconstructed on site. What you bring, you take away. In keeping with the ‘Leave No Trace’ policy, there are no bins, no shops, no money transactions, no rules, no hassles. Just fun, wrapped up in one of the most hedonistic places known to man.

Burning Man kicked off back in 1986 when San Fransiscan Larry Harvey and a few friends met on Baker Beach and burned an 8-foot wooden man as well as a smaller wooden dog. The inspiration for the burning has been ever shrouded in mystery by Harvey, who described it as a spontaneous act of radical self-expression.

Harvey later amalgamated the burning of the effigy with two sculpture artists who had been burning art in the Black Rock Desert in Nevada. And so Burning Man was born.

The festival has gone from being a gathering of several hundred people to one with just under 50,000 last year. One of the quirkiest and most participative things about Burning Man is the idea of gift economy. Every participant is encouraged to enter into a sort of potlatch: since money does not exist here and nothing is sold but coffee, tea, water and ice cubes, people operate by means of gift exchange and a sort of underground barter system. It’s all part of the feelgood ethos of the festival.

And this is definitely not your average festival. State arrived at Burning Man after a gruelling 11-hour drive in a camper van from Las Vegas, feeling just a little fragile after a night on the slot machines, only to be greeted at the gates of the imaginary city by real feel-the-love sort of hippies who make you roll around in the desert sand to fully immerse yourself into the culture of Burning Man. And this is the atmosphere that prevails. For an entire week, the Black Rock Desert is transformed into an actual village with street names and numbers. The innermost street is named The Esplanade and the remaining streets are given names to coincide with the overall theme of the burn and ordered in ways, such as

this page photography by scott london (scottlondon.com)

Burn Baby Burn

Words by Louise Healy Photography by Scott London and Mike Woolson

Making time Get in the mood or simply be an armchair traveller

this page photography by mike woolson (jumbobrain.com)

Galactica’ off The Esplanade, where we were treated to exquisite Moroccan food and drinks. As with all ‘free’ things here, all organisers ask is that you contribute something, whether it be bringing food, drinks, a good story or a wicked sense of humour to the table.

alphabetical, to make them easier to recall: Anxious, Beaver, Chance, Destiny, Eager, Fate, Guess, and Hope.

It’s the type of place that has something for everyone. From poetry classes to bondage lessons, pole dancing to deep meditation, body art school to hardcore Run DMC style dance-offs, Burning Man is not a place for those with inhibitions. But one of the most important and defining factors is the element of make believe. Every year, the festival has a theme (Fear and Hope, Wheel of Time, Good and Evil, The Green Man), and this year’s theme is The American Dream. And it’s these themes that give people a license to go wild with costumes, art cars and alter egos.

For people dressing up, this festival is like nothing State has ever seen before. It’s like every day is Halloween: zoo animals, space kidettes, ‘70s kids cycling around on BMXs (a bicycle is essential for getting around here), goths, angels and demons, cowboys, wacky characters everywhere.

Futuristic Leprechauns were State’s speciality, in tying with the Green Man theme whilst not dissing our roots.

Eat Burning Man is no Oxegen, so don’t think you’ll be finding fast food stalls anywhere near Black Rock City. The best things to pack for a week in the desert, where temperatures soar to 40°C during the day, is non-perishable goods such as tinned beans, lentils, spaghetti, meatballs and fruit.

But State did enjoy a few treats: ‘Ashram

Listen Burning Man is about avant garde culture.

It’s not so much a music festival as an interactive American hippie-fest. You will find children as young as eight playing whistles and 50-year-old rockers banging out crazy guitar riffs. The Killers and Arcade Fire are just two of the bands who have made impromptu appearances at the festival. Check out www.burningman.com to see the potential line-up for this year, but State recommends cycling around the playa after dark and stopping in on many of the up-and-coming acts, from punk to classical.

Party Party You will not find a festival anywhere else in the world where people party as hard as Burning Man. Similar to a Las Vegas casino, every hour is party hour and there is no real differentiation between night and day.

Although the festival runs from Sunday to Sunday, the real party doesn’t kick off until the Wednesday so keep some energy reserves left for the last few nights: you’ll need them. While bars provide free booze (you’ll even find the ubiquitous Irish bar, the ‘Paddy Mirage’, serving free Guinness), realistically they can’t cater for 50,000 people for a week so come prepared. Beers will get warm pretty quickly in the desert heat so State recommends hitting the red wine if you’re going to drink anything at all. And make sure to drink at least a gallon of water a day. The acrid desert atmosphere makes near corpses of people every year who fail to hydrate enough.

Live it up, immerse yourself in the spirit of the festival and you’ll have the craziest experience of your life.

Get this album Live at Burning Man (2000) from Amazon.

Snippets of tunes from Burning Man at its best.

Watch this music video http://tripnburn.wordpress.com has a selection of video montages from last year’s Burning Man. Don’t leave home without this A bicycle, night light, torch, walkie talkies, a warm sleeping bag (it gets extremely cold in the desert at night) and decorative costumes.

Read this book This is Burning Man by Brian Doherty. This book chronicles the tales of adventure and the history of Burning Man from 1995-2004 through the eyes of a participant.

Visit this ‘The Relaxomatic Plushatorium’: a public chill space for all those seeking a reprieve from a long day of exploration under the oppressive sun. Cool off and recharge your mind and body on your way to your next adventure: have a beverage, rub on some soothing aftersun lotion, watch a performance or just take a nap.

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State

Tortoise / Analog Festival

Slow And Steady Wins The Race Words by John Joe Worrall

“I was up already, I swear,” professes Doug McCombs.

The Tortoise co-founder won’t confirm or deny that 9am is an hour he’d regularly be up and at ‘em but sitting at his kitchen table rolling a cigarette, he does admit to one concern. “Right now, Tortoise needs songs.”

Such talk could be construed as slightly worrying but then McCombs sets State straight as he talks about recording the band’s next album guerrilla style over the coming months.

“What we figured out when we did some recording about a month ago… well, we booked 10 days to be in the studio and we figured out we were only productive for the first four and the rest of it was a waste of time. So that’s why we decided to book shorter sessions over the course of the summer and then, in between, we’ll be working on the songs a little bit, which we don’t normally do. We don’t normally go to the practice stage and work on songs.”

What Tortoise normally ‘do’ is not really a concept that most associate with the band: in business since the turn of the 1990s and with an unswerving dedication to intense, genre baiting instrumental experimentation, what Tortoise normally ‘do’ is jazz to some, post rock to others and several differing definitions to many more. They are the kind of immense musical experience that at the very least gets unsuspecting passers-by to ask “what the fuck is that?”, as McCombs politely puts it.

One of the band’s peers (who include Autechre, Yo La Tengo and Stereolab) once said of them that they “remain unfinished in the best sense of the word”.

Despite leaning towards what many feel is a marginally more accessible sound in this decade (on 2001’s Standards and 2004’s It’s All Around You) after euphorically obscure ‘90s records such as TNT and their eponymous debut, the lion’s share of their work is still indefinable legend; melodic mysteries.

“I can see where some people are coming from when they say the melody is not that obvious,” admits McCombs. “There are many different degrees of what we would call a song: some of them are very ambiguous, with no melody at all, or almost nothing holding together, but it’s always kinda obvious to us. I guess there is some kind of criteria of what makes a good song and basically it has to be something interesting to listen to: it doesn’t

really matter if it adheres to any formal ideas of what a song is. As long as something is interesting, it’s in.”

Speaking slowly and carefully, McCombs takes a while to warm to discussing his band, well his main band alongside side projects such as the folk-infused Pullman or the more personal Brokeback, but he gradually starts to wax casual about how Tortoise have profited from a slowly building appreciation of their work over the last two decades.

“I think there definitely is an audience that’s grown over the years to uhm, I guess… accept more abstract musical ideas,” he muses. “I think we’re part of that, but that’s been going on a long time, growing and growing. Like in the ‘70s especially, in that era of punk rock and stuff, it seemed like people were willing to embrace different things around that time. There was a lot of three minute rock but I mean, people were for instance willing to give, say, Brian Eno a chance. I suppose that continues with us and other bands doing something interesting.”

Growing more animated, the burly Chicago native begins to talk about the emotion contained within a Tortoise record; burying the notion that a tune has to have bittersweet lyrics to find a connection with its audience. For the first time, any ‘uhms’ and ‘y’knows’ go out the window and he lets rip without breaking pace.

“I believe absolutely 100 percent in the idea of when you’re playing music, you’re expressing yourself and how you feel into that. On a conscious level, when you’re writing music or crafting a song, you may have a particular theme you want to evoke, but on a more molecular level or something like that, what you’re not really in control of is the way you interpret that each time you play it: it’s always gonna be a slightly different way.

“Pop music has become so used to expressing itself through the lyric that it becomes the common touchstone of those listening to it,” he adds. “I mean, I would hope that someday or maybe in a small way that Tortoise is trying to make people aware that there are others ways to express yourself.”

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Tortoise / Analog Festival

“Pop music has become so used to expressing itself through the lyric that it becomes the common touchstone of those listening to it”

The liner notes of the band’s 2006 three-CD collection of rarities, A Lazarus Taxon, (a fine starting point for any newcomers), recalls how many watching Tortoise live see how the style resembles a ‘back and forth exchange’, a conversation, debate even, between bass, drums, guitars and whatever other instruments are to hand. McCombs, along with bandmates John McEntire, Jeff Parker, John Herndon and Dan Bitney, will bring this unique approach to Dublin this July 19, when they headline the Analog Festival in the city’s Grand Canal Square.

The gig is part of several they’re playing this summer in random cities across Europe and the US. “Every other weekend, we’re somewhere” says McCombs, the light touring approach due

to the impending birth of one band member’s child, alongside those recording sessions and side projects.

“Well get the album done, though,” McCombs avows, while walking outside for some fresh air. “I think there’s an unspoken understanding that Tortoise comes… well it’s pretty safe to say that we all pretty much get the most out of Tortoise. I think it’s the most creative outlet that any of the five of us really have and it’s also the most successful band that any of the five of us play in. The reason that Tortoise is as good as it is, is because we have room to do the other things that we do and we learn from those other experiences and bring those ideas back to Tortoise.”

And what of the need for new songs – is he asking for charitable donations? “Shit, yeah… well, nah, we’ll be fine.”

Analog Festival Highlights 2008 is the second year of the Analog Festival, and this year sees it expand considerably from its inaugural programme of inspiring live performances in Dublin’s Docklands into what festival organisers describe as “a weekend-long, urban, progressive music festival”, taking place over three days from July 18-20.

Friday, July 18 Hal Wilner’s Rogues Gallery Main Stage, Grand Canal Square Itself no slouch in terms of a guest list when it first appeared on record, Wilner’s ambitious sea shanty project has grown into a massive live event. Expect appearances from Lou Reed, Teddy Thompson, Waterson: Carthy, Gavin Friday, David Thomas (Pere Ubu), Julie Fowlis, Baby Gramps, Ed Harcourt, Rachel Unthank & The Winterset.

Jóhann Jóhannsson & Chequerboard Analog Studio Conservatory A night of spellbinding and minimalist electronica from Icelandic composer Jóhannsson and Dublin’s own Chequerboard, aka John Lambert.

Arctic Circle Analog Studio Conservatory Fresh from curating intimate and unique shows

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across London, Arctic Circle makes its Irish debut with a bill featuring The Sleeping Years, Dollboy and Songdog.

Saturday July 19 Tortoise / Liars / Efterklang (see above) Main Stage, Grand Canal Square Silje Nes + Madam Analog Studio Conservatory Europe meets the US in the shape of the folktronica of Silje Nes and Madam’s Portisheadmeets-Townes Van Zandt Americana.

Ninepoint Records Night Analog Studio Conservatory Hosted by the Dublin experimental music label and featuring Thread Pulls, Copenhagen’s Mit Nye Band and Petit Mal from London.

Sunday, July 20 Taraf de Haïdouks Main Stage, Grand Canal Square Free afternoon concert from the world renowned 12-piece Balkan gypsy band. Go to www.analogconcerts.ie for tickets.

Iain Sinclair ‘Here-Not-Here’ Analog Studio Conservatory A specially commissioned Analog performance from the East London novelist, in tandem with musician Susan Stenger.

Jonathan Coe & The High Llamas Analog Studio Conservatory Another festival exclusive, with Coe collaborating with long time admirer Seán O’Hagan and his band on a unique spoken word experience.

See www.analogconcerts.ie for full info

State

Efter The Gold Rush [

Tortoise / Analog Festival

Danish experimentalists Efterklang will bring their triumphant live show to Dublin as part of this year’s Analog Festival. Jubii!

When Efterklang co-founder Rasmus Stolberg is told that the adventurous Danish band’s music sounds like being pursued alternately by swarms of bees and clouds of butterflies, he enthusiastically agrees. “When we create music, it’s a lot about images,” explains the bass guitarist of the chamber pop/electronica collective. “We don’t discuss if the song should be in A major. We [say], ‘this song feels like walking in the forest, it’s very foggy and suddenly wolves appear! Do we start running?’”

Since 2003, when the five Copenhagen-based core members of Efterklang – former high school friends Stolberg, vocalist/songwriter Casper Clausen, computer boffin Mads Brauer, plus drummer and trumpeter Thomas Husmer and on-hiatus pianist Rune Mølgaard – released the Springer EP, Efterklang have built a devoted following.

This spring, the eight-strong touring band were finally able to afford their first US road trip and since last autumn, they’ve played throughout the UK, Europe and Ireland, including this month’s Analog appearance with Tortoise. Efterklang have collected enthusiastic fans like Grizzly Bear and Karl Hyde of Underworld along the way and they’ve fended off inevitable comparisons to Sigur Rós (“I think we’re very different,” demurs Stolberg.)

“We want to create music which doesn’t reflect or need to be part of

]

the world we live in,” he continues, elliptically, on the phone from Boston.

It’s the day after Efterklang’s first New York show, a triumphant, though cramped, event on the stamp-sized stage of Tribeca’s Knitting Factory. By the set’s end, Efterklang were joined by Rumraket label mates, Slaraffenland, for their song ‘Chapter 6’ and the dozen Danes jammed onstage with multiple vocalists, brass players, four guitarists, two keyboardists/ electronic mavens, glockenspiel and tambourines, two drummers and their violinist boisterously clattering two drumsticks against the wall.

Instead of creating an ungodly cacophony, however, Efterklang managed to transform the dodgy club into Carnegie Hall. The band’s transcendent, mille-feuille compositions from 2004’s ethereal Tripper and last year’s brassier, bolder Parades are works of sophisticated studio accomplishment. But Stolberg, who is also the band’s manager and runs Rumraket, says the segue from album to performance required three difficult months “reinterpreting the songs for a live band.”

A September concert is planned with the 50-piece Danish Radio Sinfonietta, performing Parades in its entirety, and so is a new album, albeit one that won’t take 18 months to make. “[We’ll] try to make things very simple,” says Stolberg jovially, “because that’s the thing we’re not very good at.”

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State reviews & previews

albums Beck vs Danger Mouse? We decide the winner. A host of new names, including Conor Furlong, Heathers and No Age, stake their claim, while Dolly Parton, Patti Smith and Emmylou Harris return to the fray. The Pogues get box clever.

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{

★★★★★ ★★★★ ★★★ ★★ ★

digital The return of Girl Talk, the State podcast and why a Stroke, Santogold and NERD are selling their soles?

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dvd Fear and loathing in Belgium: the last word on In Bruges.

Gags and gore in The Cottage, satire galore in The Onion Movie, and Batman returns to his animated roots. Plus the latest music DVDs doing the rounds, including Kíla’s great adventure.

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tv 5,700 channels (and nothing on). How the digital revolution has given us more choices but less choice. Plus what to do to avoid watching bloody Big Brother.

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books The debut short story collection from acclaimed novelist, Gerard Donovan, and the best books hitting the shelves this month, including Russell Brand getting the paperback treatment.

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games State has rhythm: Battle Of The Bands reviewed. Plus, Darth Vader goes loco in Soulcalibur IV.

While their first two records took a grand total of nine days to make, The Dudley Corporation’s third, Year Of The Husband, has taken a marathon four years to complete. With guests including Carol Keogh (The Tycho Brahe, Autamata) and production duties from Oppenheimer’s Rocky O’Reilly, amongst others, it’s the sound of a band finally stretching their creative legs.

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0 5

3 ³ & 2 5 3 9OUR SUMMER FESTIVAL STATION ,)6% "2/!$#!343 %XCLUSIVE INTERVIEWS UPDATES COMPETITIONS AND GREAT MUSIC FROM ALL THE BEST SUMMER FESTIVALS ONLY ON 0HANTOM 74

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Albums

Beck

illustration by nathalie nysted

Modern Guilt

(xl)

For a supposed slacker, Beck Hansen has proved quite a prolific musical chameleon since he first hit commercial paydirt with the cross-genre-defining ‘Loser’ in 1994. Following his masterpiece, Odelay, in 1996, we had the folky Mutations, the Princely funk of Midnite Vultures, the introspective Sea Change ,the mixed-up Guero and quasi hip-hop of The Information. Since then, he’s left his major label schmooze-fest with Geffen and returned to his indie roots with Interscope in the US and XL for the rest of the world. The question remained, though: which Beck Hansen would turn up, the acoustic guitar-wielding troubadour or the beat-busting funk soldier?

The answer is... both of them, thanks in the main to the inclusion of Brian ‘Danger Mouse’ Burton behind the production desk. Modern Guilt, in many ways, feels like a pretty unwieldy combination of Beck’s mellow gold with Danger Mouse’s bells, whistles, beats, samples and bass-bins. True, the boy Hansen has never shied away from utilising whatever studio wizardry is at his disposal and he’s dipped into music’s past for inspiration throughout his career. Up to now, however, the results have always seemed at least

semi-natural: this time around, it feels forced.

It’s a shame, because the wonderful ‘Soul Of A Man’ hints at how good this could have been, all squalling guitars, disco beats and Beatles-esque vocals, even if it is only two and a half minutes long, while the stunning, downbeat album closer, ‘Volcano’, could be a companion piece to the momentous ‘Jackass’.

Other highlights include ‘Orphans’, with Beck’s trademark drawl and lazy guitar complemented by some rather restrained beats, and backing vocals courtesy of none other than Cat Power.

‘Gamma Ray’ sounds like the Californian has taken ‘60s doo-wop, ran it through a blender and come out the other side with an insistent psychedelic pop gem. The title track’s relatively sparse production work – pretty much just Beck’s voice and an insistent drum beat – sounds incredible, again taking its inspiration from the ‘60s, but with enough of a modern pop sensibility to keep the kids happy. Unfortunately, this less-is-more technique is conspicuous by its absence elsewhere.

Beck’s swoonsome falsetto on ‘Chemtrails’ is superseded by DM’s heavy-handed production on the chorus, relegating our boy’s hypnotic voice very much to the background: there’s just too much going on here to enjoy, making listening to it a pretty labour-intensive affair. That same argu-

ment can be levelled at a whole lot of Modern Guilt. ‘Walls’ is possessed of a glorious melody that’s striving to break free, but unfortunately it’s hemmed in by the shackles of Danger Mouse’s seeming inability to leave any gaps in the production, filling every space with enough blips, bleeps and sampled beats for an entire Fatboy Slim double-album.

‘Replica’ is the worst offender here, Beck’s slow-mo vocal shat all over by a pointless drum skiffle: so bad is this that it sounds like you’re in that musical purgatory between the cut and thrust of the dancefloor and the tut and crust of the chill-out room, with both sets of speakers invading your earlobes simultaneously.

Beck has always proved adept at avoiding tags or labels, at home with almost any genre, so the idea of his working with Danger Mouse could and should have produced his best work in years. After all, here was a producer not afraid to take risks, to fuck with the program and shake a song down to its foundations before building it back up again. Unfortunately, Modern Guilt is not that record. While it contains moments of really scintillating pop majesty, all too often, there’s too much studio trickery and not enough song at its heart. ~ John Walshe

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Albums Sigur Rós

Með Suð Í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust

(emi)

Sigur Rós are that most puzzling and unique of creatures: despite recording in a language spoken by just 250,000 people (and occasionally, in a made-up one), few others can affect and absorb a worldwide audience so wholly and beguilingly.

With each passing album, the question looms large: where can Sigur Rós go from here? Creating magnificent orchestral vistas is one thing, but staying interesting is another matter entirely.

Initially, mild panic began to surface when it was revealed that Sigur Rós’ fifth studio album had been written, recorded and mixed within a five-month period. Producer Flood (U2, Nine Inch Nails) was reportedly at the helm of the studio desks in cities like New York, Havana, Reykjavik and London. All the signs hinted at a dramatic departure for the group, or at the very least, a hastily-written opus, but mercifully, Með Suð... carries the deliciously celestial hallmarks of its early predecessors.

Striking a divine balance between vertiginous, swooping flourishes and absorbing moments of quiet respite, Með Suð... is not unlike the sound of falling in love. Teeming with exquisite terror and childlike frivolity, it’s as bracing and nourishing an album as you’ll hear all year. ‘Gobbledigook’, is a giddy wee galloper of a track, replete with wide-eyed wonderment; elsewhere, ‘Við Spilum Endalaust’ is a sturdy and tirelessly upbeat indie-pop number.

Of course, no Sigur Rós album would be complete without those wait-how-the-hell-doI-breathe-again moments. Oscillating wildly between apocalyptic terror and heavenly bewilderment is the truly jaw-dropping “Ara Bátur”, while ‘All Alright’, the band’s first English-language track, is a welcome peculiarity.

With the quartet moving ever closer towards verse-chorus-verse territory, it’s easy to see where those Coldplay comparisons - once anathema to Sigur Rós purists – might originate, but the good news is that Með Suð...stands head and shoulders above even the most lofty and adventurous of Chris Martin’s songwriting ambitions. ~ Tanya Sweeney

Patti Smith & Kevin Shields The Coral Sea

(pask)

The Coral Sea is Patti Smith’s jagged prose elegy for her late friend and collaborator, the artist Robert Mapplethorpe. This double CD package is culled from two separate spoken-word performances of this piece at Queen Elizabeth Hall in London: Smith reads her dramatic, abstract epic as a forbidding, nightmarish proclamation, while My Bloody Valentine’s Shields provides a purposefully impressionistic sonic backdrop on guitar.

The effect of it all is mildly startling and pretty unsettling. By all accounts, the live experience

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was spectacular but on record, it requires more than a degree of patience. Disc One’s performance, from June 2005, is meandering and sounds under-rehearsed but, like a nocturnal mystery tour, is all the more thrilling for it. Disc Two’s version, from September the following year, sounds more together: Smith intones with extra purpose, and bubbles with more pent-up fury than previously, while Shields’ accompaniment has a premeditated, scored menace that’s missing from the first performance. Both stand up on their own spellbinding merits but finding the right mood and setting to enjoy either may prove quite a challenge.

Interestingly, Cat Power’s contribution to the 2005 version is missing from the final package: it may just have been over-egging the pudding to have three such singular talents mingling in such uneasy listening. ~ Johnnie Craig

to school-days we wish we had, with the kind of contrived, angst-ridden lyrics that wouldn’t be out of place if Dr Seuss started writing for teenagers (“Put me in a special school/’Cos I am such a fool”). Meanwhile, ‘Heart Songs’, a close cousin of ‘In The Garage’ from The Blue Album, is a tribute to the artists that have inspired Coumo over the years and is, frankly, terrible.When they do get it right, however, as on ‘Everybody Get Dangerous’, they can still pen a killer tune.

Die-hard fans will probably love this album, as it incorporates everything that is quintessentially Weezer. However, to the laissez faire listener, there is nothing here to distinguish it from any of the suburban geek indie rock bands that Weezer themselves have spawned. ~ Aoife McDonnell

Ben Glover & The Earls The Week The Clocks Changed (mr jones productions)

Weezer Weezer

(geffen)

What do you expect from the sixth album of a band with over 15 years’ experience in the music industry, who are credited with inspiring everybody from Ash to Deftones, whose front-man and main lyricist is a Harvard Graduate? Definitely not this.

The new Weezer album is painfully average.

Simply called Weezer, the album will invariably become known as The Red Album. Their third self-titled, colour coded album comes as no surprise as the band try to emulate their own past glories (the blue and green albums, of course).

Lead single ‘Pork and Beans’ was written in response to record label Geffen’s request that the band write more commercially viable material.

The song is supposed to be a cheeky two fingers to conformism with Cuomo sneering at commercial success: “Everyone likes to dance to a happy song/ With a catchy chorus and beat/ So they can sing along/ Timbaland knows the way/To reach the top of the charts/ Maybe if I work with him/ I can perfect the art”.

Leaving the ever intelligent rhyming couplets aside, this album is peppered with definite signs of a middle-aged band trying desperately to relive their youth.

‘Troublemaker’ is a case in point, its stadium friendly riffs and catchy chorus harking back

With his debut album The Week The Clocks Changed, Ben Glover tinges Americana with his own unique, Irish touch. Glover sticks to his roots and sings in his own accent, something that many Irish artists have thankfully started to do in recent years.

The album opener, ‘No Direction Home’, is an upbeat affair, whose funky rhythms are underlined by the beautiful sound of a Hammond organ, while ‘Things Haven’t Started Happening Yet’ will get you tapping along while you’re cruising the country roads of Ireland on a summer’s day. You can imagine ballads like Glover’s ‘Higher Ground’ doing well in the US, taking into consideration the current trend of using the music of unknown bands in major TV dramas. ‘Atlantic Eyes’ could also have TV developers in a tizzy: undoubtedly inspired by Glover’s life close to the Atlantic coast, it tells the story of Maggie: “one of those small town girls from way up North”.

There are plenty of special guests present, such as Grammy Award-winning Vince Gill and Willie Nelson’s long-time harmonica player Mickey Raphael. Indeed, it could be argued that Ben Glover is our very own Bruce Springsteen with an Irish accent and The Week The Clocks Changed would be a welcome addition to any record collection. ~ Seán P. Feeny

Mudhoney The Lucky Ones

(sub pop)

Like The Stooges, Mudhoney were always far more potent as an idea than a unit-shifting industry concern. No one, however, would begrudge Sup Pop celebrating the quartet’s 20th birthday by repackaging 1988 proto-grunge landmark Superfuzz Bigmuff, a grisly workout of guitars played through the titular effects pedals. There’s also the small matter of this, their eighth studio LP. Recorded in three and a half days, The Lucky Ones is the sound of four men in their ‘40s forgo-

Albums

[

Nerdy Canadian indie kids surpass their debut with a stunningly stirring second release.

]

Wolf Parade At Mount Zoomer

(sub pop)

Apparently, Wolf Parade had a whole load of songs written in the period just after their debut, Apologies To The Queen Mary, arrived in 2005. However, the Montreal boys decided that the new material was too similar to what they’d already done and promptly discarded it in favour of a fresh start, via a series of rehearsals/writing sessions in a converted church owned by The Arcade Fire. The result, At Mount Zoomer, makes State thankful that they ditched their previous work, as this is easily one of the finest albums of the year so far.

They’ve broadened their soundscape from the indie musings of their debut, adding depth, breadth and lots of technicolour splashes. This is like the difference between watching your favourite movie on a tiny black & white portable with a broken speaker and suddenly seeing it on a fucking massive flat-screen telly with surround sound, a lazy-boy armchair and an endless supply of buttered popcorn. The difference really is that startling.

While their debut was notable for a few shiny highlights, Zoomer... feels more of a cohesive affair, where the quality control is more consistent. That’s not to say it’s without its indie pop nuggets, however. From the tense tattoo of ‘Call It A Ritual’, through the gloriously infectious ‘70s-prog chug of ‘California Dreamer’ and the bouncy singlalong that is ‘The Grey Estates’, and onto the epic closer, ‘Kissing The Beehive’, this is a bold, confident statement. If Queen Mary... established Wolf Parade’s status as ones to watch, At Mount Zoomer is the sound of potential being realised. ~ John Walshe

ing today’s sonic fashions and locating their inner spotty teenager. The atmosphere is still caught by the fuzz, with the primal pummelling of Dan Peters and Steve Turner’s sizzling riffs stomping all over tunes like ‘What’s This Thing’ and the riotous title track. ‘Tales of Terror’ carries on how you’d expect, with bludgeoning, stop-start rhythms and Mark Arm’s vocal contorted into a paint-stripping yelp. It’s fantastic fun.

While it’s all very heady and evocative of pre-Nirvana Seattle, there’s an atmosphere of selfpastiche that can make a full listening tiresome.

The problem is Arm. Although reliably strident and sneery, his delivery seems just too stylised to be taken seriously. Just as well, then, that his lyrics are only throwaway rhyming couplets.

When seminal rock groups lurch back into the last chance saloon of contemporary climates, the results can sound delusional and desperate. Mudhoney have avoided sullying their back catalogue by releasing a taut record that may just alert a new crop of cross kids to the joys of those two wonderful distortion pedals. ~ Hilary A. White

Ratatat LP3

(xl recordings)

The first thing you notice about LP3 is how many of the songs would be perfect for the next Audi

or Volkswagen advert - it takes little prompting to imagine their soaring guitars and sampled strings playing over the shots of a shiny new car in some snowy landscape, making everything look effortlessly cool. Once you’ve managed to suppress your inner advertising executive, however, you’ll realise that the songs deserve better than that.

Less dance-oriented than previous Ratatat material - it’s more likely to get your head nodding than your feet moving - LP3 is a relaxed affair.

Each song is a well-crafted mix of countless layers of beats, samples, and instrumentation. Though their intricately showy guitar playing remains at the centre of the sound, harpsichords and organs make regular appearances, giving the whole record an elegant and polished feel. There’s a heavy atmosphere here, a tension that constantly hints at some crescendo that never really comes, but this is an effect that encourages repeated and dedicated listening rather than frustration.

There are highlights aplenty, like the beautifully dramatic ‘Shempi’ and the laidback, tropical ‘Brulee’, that simply sound more fully-formed than the other tracks. Indeed, when the album falters, it’s on later cuts like ‘Mumtaz Khan’, which seems like an idea rather than a song, taking LP3’s momentum away slightly. But by the time you reach the closer, a surprisingly calm and playful winding down to this fine album, it’s hard not to want to press play again. ~ Shane Culloty

Infadels Universe in Reverse

(wall of sound)

What has happened to Infadels? After coming to prominence as one of the better electro-rock bands with their 2006 album, We Are Not The Infadels, they’ve ditched the dancefloor in favour of the campfire. Whereas the London five piece’s excellent debut pulsated with energy and anthemic choruses, Universe In Reverse’s cringe-worthy lyrics and exhausted rock’n’roll hooks make it a flaccid follow-up.

Although the synthesizers remain, they’re buried under acoustic guitars and wig-out riffs.

Things veer into David Brent territory on ‘Free Things For Poor People’, with its Christian rock guitars and chorus, “Free things for poor people, that’s what it said/ Written on a T-shirt around her neck/ Take me to the water and wash me by the edge,” which builds into “My river runs through her now”. Quite a few miles away from their old song, ‘Jagger 67’, which saw Bnann singing about kissing a lady in a toilet.

While the cheese factor is turned up to 11 on ‘Chemical Girlfriend’, complete with Mariah Carey-esque vibrato warbling, “Our love’s so good, ya it’s chem-i-cal,” there are some redeeming moments.

The soothing ballad ‘Don’t Look Behind You’ works in the same way ‘Girl That Speaks No Words’ did, while the funky ‘Make Mistakes’ is

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Albums

[

With Butch Vig turning knobs, Their second album was always going to rawk. But is it any good?

]

The Subways All Or Nothing

(infectious)

The second studio album from The Subways has some high expectations attached. On the face of it, it should be great, not least because the legendary Butch Vig weighs in as producer. The good news is that it delivers, for the most part at least.

All Or Nothing is full of contrasts and contradictions. Just when you are getting into the rhythm of the album, the pace is dropped to a crawl before kicking it back up to full speed again. It gets off to a flying start, with some super-charged tracks such as the initial ‘Girls & Boys’, showcasing their Nirvana and punk-inspired roots. Heavy riffs and drum beats are the order of the day, with melodic lyrics thrown in for good measure. This continues through to ‘Kalifornia’ and ‘Alright’, with lead singer Billy Lunn proving that his vocal surgery hasn’t affected his ability to belt out the lyrics, while live favourite ‘Shake! Shake!’ is another obvious highlight.

However, the pace falters about halfway through, with ‘Move To Newlyn’ bringing in the acoustic guitar and changing the tone somewhat. Despite the change in tempo, however, it’s still catchy, and provides a good lead-in to the more pop-inspired title track. Normal service is resumed on ‘I Won’t Let You Down’, with Lunn promising not to tear someone’s heart out. Nice.

The rest of the album continues in a similar vein, the screeching lyrics of ‘Turnaround’ contrasting sharply with the melodic ‘Strawberry Blonde’, before the volume is turned right up with ‘Always Tomorrow’. Album closer, ‘Lostboy’ sees The Subways going out with a bit of an acoustic whimper rather than a bang. It’s not quite all or nothing, but The Subways are definitely worth a second listen. ~ Ciara O’Brien

similar to ‘Love Like Semtex’. However, neither actually matches up to their predecessors and the raucous ‘Code 1’ offers the only faint hope that their songwriting skills haven’t taken a one way trip to Madagascar. If the Infadels are intent on following the likes of Razorlight and Editors into commercial rock territory, they’re going to have to try a lot harder than this. ~ Saoirse Patterson

Lil Wayne Tha Carter III

(universal)

In 2005, Dwayne Michael Carter Junior claimed to be the best rapper alive. Since then, the final instalment in Tha Carter trilogy has been the most anticipated hip-hop album in years. Now to answer the question, does it live up to the hype? To be frank, yes. Taking into account that Lil Wayne is a fully fledged MC, and not just some bandwagon hustler, you can’t ignore the off-the-wall mastermind behind this set of urgent commentaries.

It’s all about maximum impact here, with the opening expletive-filled ‘3 Peat’ and the New Orleans two finger salute to the American Government in ‘Tie My Hands’. This bad-ass attitude is typified in ‘A Milli’ where Weezy sings “I’m a young money millionaire/ Tougher than Nigerian hair”. ‘Mr Carter’ is a real highlight, with its

chipmunk harmonies and Weezy’s raspy vocals, supported but not outshone by guest Jay-Z. He then proceeds to appropriate from ‘Umbrella’ and ‘Irreplaceable’, as well as sampling Nina Simone and impersonating ET. This is a melting pot of electric, eclectic mixtape musings, with added nitrous oxide for energetic effect. This guy doesn’t take a breath: he’s on override and his stream of consciousness technique would rival Yeats on an English exam paper. It’s a record brimming with the cultural references of our time, if Adam Sandler, Hitler and oral sex are on your intellectual radar. Lil Wayne is just so off the wall and living in his own world of Molotov cocktails and Martian spaceships that he’s either way ahead of his time or just a one off-piece of rap brilliance. ~ Pamela Halton

The Dudley Corporation Year of the Husband

(absolutely kosher)

The Dudley Corporation’s long-awaited third album is a seamless blend of understated beauty and frenzied rock that works very well. Whether they are packing a song like ‘Holy Wars’ with frenetic drumming and mischievous melodies, or sleepily casting a sad eye at a doomed relationship as on ‘Fool’ - the album’s standout - they sound like a band at the top of their game.

There are moments here where everything

sounds truly electric. Driving riffs and squalling feedback are combined to great effect on the album’s heavier moments, which for all their seriousness, sit well next to the more laidback tracks, and get undoubtedly better with repeated listens.

For the first half of the record, it’s as if the songs are hidden inside a mesh of nifty rhythm changes, punchy guitars, and glorious distortion, slow to reveal themselves quickly or attach themselves to memory. The later tracks here are much more immediate in their effect, as things get quieter, less intricate and more honest.

‘Vapour Trails’ starts by placing singer Dudley Colley’s moody vocals at the centre of attention, supported by a simple acoustic chord change and some starry slide guitar, while ‘Aliens’ brings to mind the Low comparisons fans of the band will be familiar with. For all the noise and variety on show on this album, it’s the band’s sense of song that makes it a triumph. A fine record that improves with repeated listens. ~ Shane Culloty

NERD Seeing Sounds

(universal)

Collaborators, soloists, producers, urban icons, musical conspirators: the members of NERD don many hats. Undeniably talented and pioneering, they could even be credited with reigniting funk through their innovative audio angles and some

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Albums

[

Refreshingly old school approach from the new kids on the punk block.

]

No Age Nouns

(sub pop)

Fans of art rock bands, such as the experimental delights of Deerhoof, will be enthralled by this splice of uncontrived good time rock and roll, coming to us via downtown Los Angeles creative hub, The Smell, which serves as a punk/rock music venue, performance art space, gallery, library and vegan snack bar.

The duo, guitarist and drummer Dean Spunt and Randy Randall respectively, create experimental art rock that manages to encapsulate what it is to be young and ecstatic, with scuzzy distortion-laden guitars as loud as Sonic Youth. They can do intelligent, such as on the explosive ‘Cappo’ or ‘Eraser’, where the guitars and distortion twirl out of control, but behind this initial exterior, you can also hear another layer, one of fun-fuelled punk.

‘Here Should Be My Home’ is brilliant in its Ramones-esque simplicity. It’s repetitive refrain “Jump on the tube/ Just to see you/My Heart’s in a tunnel baby/ What can I do?” captures youthful exuberance perfectly and will have you jumping around your room like you were 16 again, gurning like it was a mosh-pit.

No Age go about their business in a decidedly independent and commendably old school way, building their reputation locally rather than on the Interhype. And in an age when album artwork is a dying art, No Age also take a nostalgic view: Nouns features a 60-page booklet, which gives us a window into Los Angeles’ art/rock scene.

As the album progresses, you realise that No Age are doing something that the hyper-commercialisation of the music business has managed to suck out of bands: they’re having fun. Let’s join the party. ~ Tia Clarke

unbelievable percussion. The now trademark idiosyncrasies are all here, sublime and innovative synth and brass work, backed by ‘out of the oven’ hip-whop and coated in ‘flava’ (yes, we’re down with the kids!) laden funk.

Lead single ‘Everybody Nose’ ticks the ‘shouty rappy’ dance floor anthem box, whilst moments like the piano adventured ‘Sooner Or Later’ showcase Pharrell’s vocal pedigree and add melodic balance to the whole.

The production is flawless throughout, but it’s hindered slightly by an inherent habit of splicing ideas into angular middle-eight sections and unfortunately, this gnaws away at the record’s cohesion. Prime example is ‘Time For Some Action’, which clicks along like a mid-speed freight train until it seems like the train comes to an unexpected stop and everyone inexplicably disembarks to admire the view.

As a time testing offering, the tracks here will be off the radio by the end of the year: this is no classic. What it is (as with its two predecessors), however, is a great album for today, in the here and now, but it’ll be replaced tomorrow, probably by some fresh new urban upstart NERD have produced anyway, so from their point of view....win win! ~ Martin McIver

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Conor Furlong Eternal

(self-released)

It’s fitting that the opening phrase of Eternal, Dublin electronic artist Conor Furlong’s selfreleased debut, should bear the words “Brian Wilson,” for the influence of the troubled son of a Beach is all over Furlong’s sonic hello. That opener, entitled ‘Love/Like,’ is an unashamed tribute to Wilson, both lyrically and musically, as a spacey, classically-inspired synth melody meshes wonderfully with Furlong’s violining vocals. It’s as if Wilson circa 1966 had hijacked a Nobuo Uematsu soundtrack. The result is predictably awesome.

Eternal never really recreates the effect of ‘Love/Like,’ though the two tracks which follow, ‘Your Guy’ and ‘I’m In Love With Girls Aloud’, are uncomfortably similar in style. The latter, while maybe not quite as affectionate, is at least sincere, a rare feat in this age where ironic Justin Timberlake covers are the norm and Rick Astley is a mere internet meme. What the track is screaming out for, though, is some appropriation of Girls Aloud’s music to demonstrate the point: something subtle, that, while not disrupting the sound of the album, would at least add some variation to a record that’s already becoming repetitive.

The absence of decent beats is a recurrent

problem: they’re simplistic and lacking in character, sounding more akin to a dodgy early-‘90s Sting single than a forward-thinking electronic pop album, as if substituted in place of a click track at the eleventh hour. It’s a shame, because melodically, Eternal is one of the understated pop gems of the year, and more thoughtful arrangements would surely have thrown this one over the top. ~ Dave Donnelly

Johnny Pluse 2 Mental Breakdowns & A Breakup

(bulabeats)

Johnny Pluses fits in with Ireland’s new batch of eclectic musicians, in as much as he doesn’t really sound like anyone from the homegrown crop.

Based around the production work of Meath DJ, Johnny Pluse, 2 Mental Breakdowns & A Breakup joins the dots between ska and dub, hip-hop, funk, disco and electro. It’s this genre-mashing which makes Johnny Pluse far more intriguing than another forward-combed skinny indie band.

When Pluse gets the ingredients right, he is capable of combining the sinister with the danceable. Album highlight, ‘How Ya’ explores a dark, dub-smoked ambience, while ‘Are You Sure I Can’t Get In’ features ominous Duane Eddyesque guitar twangs alongside heavy driving

Albums synthbass.

Where 2 Mental Breakdowns & A Breakup falls, however, is in its inability to rise above being more than a background album. Despite the excellent production, neither the tunes nor the vocal collaborations are strong enough to make a lasting impact and the record suffers from the sense that Johnny has listened to a few too many ‘90s Big Beat compilations. ~ Shane Galvin

Rotary Ten These Are Our Hands

(banquet)

These Are Our Hands is a frustrating album. The songs are competently structured, the vocals well-delivered, the arrangements satisfactory.

Rotary Ten come across like a more frantic Death Cab or a chirpier Editors. Technically speaking, there’s nothing actually wrong with them. Thing is, there’s nothing that special about them either.

For the first 10 minutes, the band skate dangerously close to the ‘Generic Indie’ pool and, by about track five, the ice has broken. The main problem is, These Are Our Hands is not only infuriatingly samey, it’s also inescapably unoriginal.

When a gazillion bands already sound just like you, you need killer tunes to rise out of the quagmire. And Rotary Ten don’t have any of those.

This is not to say there’s no merit in the songwriting. ‘Time Is Not A Line And I Am Not A

Digital

Rock’ has some sublime moments, for example, as does ‘These Men Are Made Of Rust’. It’s simply that by the time you reach the halfway point, the album has actually started to become quite boring. This is a pity, because it’s not as if Rotary Ten are incapable of changing the record. Dreamlike closer ‘Don’t Lean On The Wires’ proves that they’re fully capable of playing in more than one style: it’s patient, subtle and really quite gorgeous and is certainly the album’s undisputed high point. Unfortunately, it’s about six tracks too late.

There’s definitely promise in Rotary Ten. It’s just a shame you have to wade through almost the entire album to get there. ~ Chris Russell

Emmylou Harris All I Intended To Be

(warners)

Although now in her early 60s, Emmylou Harris still has that molten gold voice that deservedly won her 12 Grammy Awards during a career that has spanned the genres of country, bluegrass and alternative rock. Now, with her 21st studio album, Harris has returned to her debut roots, with ex-husband Brian Ahern at the production desk. The result is a collection of self-penned songs and cleverly executed covers, all dusted with her magical grace.

This first lady of country has a natural instinct

for a story and for a song. The opener ‘Shores Of White Sand’ is an optimistic heart-swell that then leads you into a lamenting mournful journey of sorrow and loves lost. Definitely not one for a party, but grab a drink and stick it on the stereo when you’re embracing the blues.

Harris’ lighter-than-air vocals are complemented throughout by long time collaborators and friends Dolly Parton and the McGarrigle sisters. In the wonderfully bittersweet ‘Gold’, she regrets a failed relationship (“No matter how bright I glittered baby…I could never be gold”).

Her emotional version of Tracy Chapman’s ‘All That You Have Is Your Soul’ is a fine example of how she successfully interprets others’ work, but don’t underestimate her as a songwriter, as her lyrics flesh out the pining ‘Not Enough’ and ‘How She Could Sing The Wildwood Flower’.

For a woman who has consistently made it her point to evolve her music, Harris is now looking back into her creative past, but on her own terms.

The package is polished, but it is her crystalline voice that captures your soul. As a sort of homecoming for Harris: you believe her when she says this is all she intended to be. ~ Pamela Halton

Nicole Atkins Neptune City

(red ink/columbia)

Former art school student Nicole Atkins fre-

~ Niall Byrne

pop eating itself.

Cignol

www.illegalart.net

Processing

Triple Trouble from Converse The unusual but hip matching of Julian Casablancas of The Strokes, NERD and Santogold sounds too calculated a collaboration to not have sinister motives. Maybe they, like, really need new Cons, dude? Regardless, the trio sing for their soles quite well on this free downloadable upbeat dance rock tune called ‘My Drive Thru’.

Alphabet Set’s Cignol delivers the latest 30minute mix from the Dublin Electronic label. He takes his cue from early ‘90s electronica, especially acts associated with the Warp label such as Plaid, Aphex Twin and Brothomstates. The result is a delightful mix of original tunes, full of vintage synth sounds and bouncing melodies.

Catch Cignol at the forthcoming Life and Mantua festivals. www.alphabetset.net

www.converse.com

State Summer Festivals Podcast Ghostface Killah / MF Doom collaboration Girl Talk

christos schizas

Feed the Animals

Party DJ Greg Gillis follows up his sublime cut and paste mash-up album Night Ripper with a new elpee this month. It will be released for download first, with a physical release to follow. Expect another collection of ADD-addled party jams, taking in samples of anything from Huey Lewis, Avril Lavigne, Butthole Surfers, Radiohead and Rihanna. This is the sound of

A collaboration long rumoured to be in the works, it looks like these two rhyme heavyweights will, in fact, release some songs they were working on this month. Both MCs were recording over tracks from J Dilla’s amazing instrumental album Donuts, but when Dilla passed away, it was shelved indefinitely. Two tracks, ‘Sniperlite’ and ‘Murder Goons’, will be released digitally, exclusively through Stones Throw’s webstore.

We all love the festival season, don’t we? All of us except for State correspondent Tanya Sweeney who loathes the whole experience and is not afraid to rant in detail about why. In our fourth podcast, topics include more reminiscing on Féile, a look forward to Oxegen and Electric Picnic, as well as a few of the smaller festivals happening this summer. Paul Walsh, Singer with Royseven joins us too. Bad language a necessity. www.state.ie/blog/podcast-05-summer-festivals/

www.stonesthrow.com/

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Albums quently drops the name of David Lynch as a key inspiration, but her major label debut doesn’t quite sparkle in Lynch’s surrealism. However, calling the album after her native town in New Jersey, where her tenure singing in bars saw her frequently hounded for Bon Jovi covers, shows a similarly mischievous streak as that of the bighaired auteur.

For the most part, Neptune City retains that kookiness and adventurism. Recorded in Sweden, with producer Tore Johannson (The Cardigans/ Franz Ferdinand) at the helm, its 10 tracks mingle lush orchestration with Spector-esque friskiness.

Nevertheless, the main attraction from the off is Atkins’ voice, with bombastic opener ‘Maybe Tonight’ particularly shimmering, displaying a range that is equal parts The Ronnettes or a female Roy Orbison. Meanwhile, the raspy coo of ‘Cool Enough’ could mark Atkins out as a young Stevie Nicks: many of today’s pop upstarts could possibly learn a trick or two from her.

Atkins also has a way with her pen too, with lyrics veering from the sniping (“If I was smart/ I’d never call you, call you, ever again” on ‘The Way It Is’), to nostalgia for the hometown of her youth (“I used to love it/ It used to be pretty”).

While Atkins has moved back and forth from her New Jersey home, there is still an inherent love/hate motif running throughout Neptune City. And with the exception of a couple of flat numbers, it provides a unique homage to her homestead. ~ Ciarán Ryan

Port O’Brien All We Could Do Was Sing

(city slang)

With the exception of including a scratch and sniff panel in the artwork that reeks of haddock, it’s doubtful this debut could evoke images of the sea with any greater gusto. Port O’Brien are Van Pierszalowski and Cambria Goodwin, the former of whom is actually the ‘Fisherman’s Son’ (spending his summers working on his father’s commercial salmon fishing vessel), which the duo sing of in one of this folk-infused album’s most affecting moments. California native Goodwin meanwhile, spends her daytime as a baker. So far, so twee, but the ‘kindred songwriting spirits’

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story of the record company bio is given some merit when you listen to the amount of joy with which they approached this record.

It’s not all sea shanties, though you do suspect Quint from Jaws would be a fan of the album nonetheless, and it’s certainly not quaint folk tedium either. Instead, we get layered vocals galore (Exhibit A: the glaringly obvious but still enjoyable Arcade Fire influence on album opener ‘I Woke Up Today’) and some playful bubblegum lyricism. “I’m not ready to settle down, I just started looking around”, is typical of the couplets that light up All We Could Do Was Sing. Country and indie roots are also hinted at, but North American folk is the over-riding influence, and for every bit of raw guitar, there’s three or four genuinely tender moments. In short, uneven, but worth a bash… possibly with whiskey and Richard Dreyfuss for company. Possibly. ~ John Joe Worrall

Dolly Parton Backwards Barbie

(universal)

Dolly Parton is nothing if not an enigma. Born into an extremely poor family, she immersed herself in the music of the mountains and used it to turn herself into one of America’s biggest stars. Of late, she’s been a business woman, a campaigner and, happily, making a series of interesting and gutsy bluegrass and folk records. In the public mind, she would always be the smiling, plastic figure of yore but it seemed a balance was being struck.

Backwards Barbie, as the title suggests, sets her back 10 years, at least musically. In fact, it’s billed as her first mainstream country album for 17 years and when they say mainstream, they mean mainstream. Gone is the authentic sound of her last few records, replaced by the kind of mass consumption polish that has blighted country music for too long. It is, for the most part, horrible.

Dolly plays up to her stereotype, smiling through the tears, while around her, a bunch of session players in cowboy hats push the button marked ‘pedal steel’. The songs are a selection of naff originals, mixed with a baffling cover of the Fine Young Cannibals’ ‘She Drives Me Crazy’.

Indeed, only once does the more interesting Dolly sneak through, on the uplifting gospel of ‘Jesus & Gravity’, a brief hint of what she is really capable of. For her to ‘do a Johnny Cash’ and strip back on all the nonsense would be a cliché now (and, given that this is her highest ever charting album in the US, unlikely) but that’s not to say that we wouldn’t be queuing up to hear it, unlike this attempt. ~ Phil Udell

Caruso The Watcher And The Comet (sad opera records)

Acoustic/rock bands fronted by singer-songwriters are ten-a-penny on the current music market and can all too easily be pigeonholed alongside

a mass of mediocre counterparts. Shane Ó Fearghail is the brains behind Caruso, and strives to do something credible with the outfit. Upbeat opener ‘Round The Hard Way’ is a radio-friendly start, and seems the obvious option for a single, instead of the actual, somewhat darker choice, ‘All Your Features’.

The curious lyrics of ‘Monster’ are the album’s first hiccup. This otherwise passable acoustic number is confused by references to fish “‘cos every little fish needs a little bitta lemon” and washing smelly t-shirts, yet is sung with seemingly serious passion. Perhaps these lines are deeply metaphorical, but the meaning is evasive.

However, hope is not yet lost. ‘Grace’ is a gentle love song that cries out for the waving of a lighter or 10, and the initially downbeat ‘It’s For The Birds’ shows off the best of Ó Fearghail’s vocals, building up into a rockier number and demonstrating just why he is better off recording with a full band rather than as a solo artist.

After the album hits the halfway mark, however, it starts to drag, and ends on the unfortunately repetitive ‘The Hero Of Waterloo’, where female vocals and violin backing sound like they are added as an afterthought. The Watcher And The Comet holds definite promise for Caruso, but needs a little more direction in order to avoid being lost among a sea of similar projects. ~ Kate Rothwell

Keplers Odd Strena Seu De Nive Sexangula (A New Year’s Gift Of Hexagonal Snow) (fractured space records)

The imagery of the dark, bare winter forest (such as the shot that adorns this record’s cover) is a strong one in Scandinavian music, as instrumental as sun, sea and sand have been in moulding the sound of Californian rock. Traditionally, the forest is the realm of the black metal hoards (where better to rampage in corpse-paint and S&M gear, you might well ask), but it’s also uniquely suited to the mood of drone rock and dark industrial music, which is where Gothenburg trio Keplers Odd come into the frame.

Stark and haunting, they concoct textures that rely as much upon live instrumentation as samples and synthesisers. Opener ‘070422.3’ (for that’s how they’re all named) creates eerie tension with sparse, broken acoustic chords, allowing various natural and artificial samples (check out the ultra-distorted pick scrapes) to fill in the sonic space. ‘071007.1’ is 11 minutes of increasingly chaotic machinations, while ‘070518.3’ showcases genuinely intense death growls (no easy feat) beneath a mountain of sludgy guitar noise. Occasionally brilliant, as often intolerable, the record’s greatest achievement is the fact that it makes such a disparate palate of sounds both coherent and engaging.

Keplers Odd take their name from an (I’m told) under-appreciated German astronomer-

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An eight-year gap sadly proves too long for Leila to regain her inspiration.

]

Leila Blood, Looms And Blooms

(warp records)

Veering just the right side of pitch black playfulness to remain approachable, Leila’s comeback record after eight years of touring, DJing and falling in and out of love with music is rich in effort but poor on inspiration. What we find is a tricky 14 songs to fall for: the fact that the word Mezzanine has been bandied about so often in the run-up to its release should give an indication of the industrial darkness at the album’s heart. However, a key difference with Massive Attack’s under-rated late ‘90s effort is simply the strength of tunes that the Bristol men had to offer, compared to the hit and miss nature of things here.

Take the aimless meander of ‘Time To Blow’ or the uneventful ‘Little Acorns’: both follow the hugely enjoyable studio dial junkie pleasure of album opener ‘Mollie’ but fail to build on that tune’s potential. ‘Carplos’, meanwhile, could soundtrack a Renault Clio ad from 15 years ago, which isn’t a great sign, nor is the all too straightforward cover of ‘Norwegian Wood’. Nonetheless, Leila’s reinvention of sorts has some good things going for it. The netherworld jazz of ‘Mettle’ offers a glimpse of her distinct fondness for fooling around with arrangements and you’d be hard pressed to become bored at any stage. What never happens, though, and the record’s aching Achilles’ heel, is its lack of anything that truly gets under your skin. ~ John Joe Worrall

philosopher, and the impossibly long album title is a tribute to one of his outstanding works. This detail is all irrelevant, but it’s enough to suspect that there’s something sub-radar going on here.

What it is anybody’s guess, but sometimes the not knowing is the best part. ~ Dave Donnelly

Tricky Knowle West Boy

(domino)

It’s been five years since we last heard from Adrian Thaws. His time away from music has allowed him to reflect on his youth and upbringing in the deprived area of Knowle West in Bristol.

The result is inspired by the concrete council estates of his former surroundings, the music that filled his youth and the desire to make an album for the people he grew up with.

Indeed, first single ‘Council Estate’, a paean to his former peers, has fiery guitar riffs underpinning Tricky’s first lone vocal on a single ever.

Elsewhere, the album is full of guest vocalists and it works, as if Tricky is echoing a clash of contrasting voices from his past. ‘Puppy Love’, with the unknown Alex Mills on vocals, is a playful, bluesy opener, complete with Mills playing the coquettish, cheeky Lily Allen-type character.

The distinctive Rasta voice of Rodigan, raised in The Bronx, starts both ‘Baligaga’ and ‘Bacative’, while both ‘Joseph’ and ‘Veronika’ are named after each tune’s respective singer. The latter is a distinct highlight, thanks to the vibrating beat

throughout. Continuing his penchant for a cover, Kylie’s ‘Slow’ is given the Tricky once-over. Who would have thought?

Lyrically, Tricky doesn’t talk in code and stays on point here (the awful ‘Coalition’ aside) with true tales of his girlfriend who got pregnant at 16 (‘School Gates’) and lines inspired by his Bristol days. Thanks to the array of musical styles, it doesn’t always flow so well, but as a picture of his youth and early years, it’s an impressive effort. ~ Niall Byrne

The War on Drugs Wagonwheel Blues

which requests a complete listen. However, the usual chaos of ambience is restrained by structure and made urgent by pounding drums, most evident on ‘A Needle in Your Eye #16’.

Bob Dylan, Kate Bush and Kevin Shields will never form a supergroup, so you can save yourself the long and pointless wait by simply obtaining a copy of Wagonwheel Blues. And even if this unlikely trio were to meet and join together, you’d be reluctant to go looking for a refund on this. ~ Bobby Aherne

Heathers (secretly canadian)

Old fashion seems to be the new fashion in Philadelphia at the moment. Following in the backwards-looking footsteps of their countrymen Man Man (vaudeville) and Dr. Dog (60’s pop), The War On Drugs opt to ply their trade in the same line of work made popular by Bruce Springsteen, Big Star and The Band. But we can assume that they are losing the battle referred to in their name, as elements of psychedelia and shoe-gazing often infiltrate their breezy highway Americana in a manner akin to a drugged-up, messed-up, unwashed hippy gate-crashing a party.

The album doesn’t get any better than the impeccable opener ‘Arms Like Boulders’, a summer anthem which introduces the music’s central theme and feeling (listening to the radio whilst “drivin’ up the 101 from Mexico to California”).

As the record develops, it reveals a soundscape

Here, Not There

(hideaway)

The potential problem with Heathers is that their story could be a good deal more interesting than their music: Dublin twins (Louise and Ellie MacNamara) who start gigging in their teens, release an album that they can’t promote because of their Leaving Cert and then immediately head off on a 30-date US tour. Thankfully, there is more to Here, Not There than an eye-catching press release, however.

The sensible option taken here is not to overstretch themselves – 10 short, sharp, acoustic shocks that brim over with youthful vim and vigour. Their debt to the US alternative scene is clear, as it is to similar Canadian sister duo Tegan & Sarah, but there is enough here to suggest an identity waiting to form. Louise’s guitar playing is particularly impressive, powering the songs along more in the style of Ani Difranco than some

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Albums

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Intrepid alt. folk from San Franciscan duo shimmers in all the right places.

The Dodos Visiter

(wichita)

This second album from little known San Fransciscan alt-folk duo Meric Long and Logan Kroeber should raise their profile on this side of Atlantic, thanks to the clutch of memorable songs contained within. Meric handles vocals and acoustic guitar, while Logan brings a uniquely frantic drumming style to the folk bent of the much of the material (he used to dabble in progressive metal). Despite limited tools, the juxtaposition of the breakneck drumming and country-tinged finger-style and strumming works wonderfully well, but it’s the melodies which shine most impressively.

Opener ‘Walking’ has a lackadaisical, banjo-led sweet tone lulling the listener into its pleasantries before abruptly segueing into ‘Red And Purple’, with a heavy acoustic chord bash and the introduction of Logan’s galloping rhythms. It would all sound so calculated if the melodies weren’t so gorgeous. ‘Fools’ showcases their ear for a breezy, pop melody while the seven-minute ‘Joe’s Waltz’ goes from acoustic strum to full-on freakout country-blues rather thrillingly.

The second half of the record’s 14 songs begins with ‘Paint The Rust’, notable for Meric’s talented picking and slide-guitar, but it also introduces the album’s only real problem. With five songs weighing in at over six minutes, a bit of editing was perhaps required. Four of these long songs are tucked into the second half so at times, the listener can lose interest. Thankfully, the penultimate track ‘Undeclared’, a pretty little ditty of a love song in the vein of The Moldy Peaches, re-establishes their versatility. Look out for The Dodos at Electric Picnic. ~ Niall Byrne

wilting singer songwriter. Most importantly, those songs more than hold their own, despite the relative youth of their authors.

Fiery and of an age they definitely may be, but Heathers still have enough to offer all listeners.

And the very fact that this is all before they’ve headed out into the big, wide world just makes the mind boggle. ~ Phil Udell

Protestant The Hate. The Hollow

(rimbaud records)

A punishing sonic assault of DIY punk/metal replete with juddering riffage, spittle-flecked vocal delivery and pneumatic drumming, Protestant’s second long-player sees the Milwaukee outfit’s campaign to perforate the nation’s eardrums continuing apace. Indeed, prolonged exposure to this feral album may compel listeners towards acts of violence they hitherto thought themselves incapable of. Even the cover-art, which mutedly depicts an elephant’s tusk goring a lion, although indicative of the music within, may deter the casual browser from giving it a try.

With a musical palette that ranges from deafening and angry to merely very loud and angry, the nine short tracks on The Hate.... have a tendency to blur into a fug of noise and patience is required to tease out the melodies embedded in the thick, muddy production. Those who do so

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will be rewarded for their efforts by tracks such as ‘Asleep’, which offers an album highlight in a grindingly repetitive, yet hypnotic fadeout. It is, alas, the final track on the album, and the law of diminishing returns may have by then sent the most committed hardcore acolytes in search of the off switch.

Then there is the issue of the lyrics, which in time-honoured metal tradition extol the virtues of negative thinking with decidedly purple phraseology. “I want a blanket of death”, growls lead singer Cory Von Bohlen on ‘A Smaller World’, “I want revenge to take shape on us for fucking up fucking everything”. Someone give Cory a hug and a mug of tea quickly.

Protestant make music as a visceral experience and their albums are no doubt intended as advertisements for their live performances which, if State can arrange it, we will never have to endure. ~ David O Mahony

some four decades ago, this new collection of old English songs is a real labour of love.

Immersing herself in these songs of yore, redolent of an England awash with legends, myths and maypoles, Prior, along with first-rate musicians Benji Kirkpatrick and Giles Lewin, has uncovered a treasure trove of beautiful, bewitching melodies and quaint, lyrical tales from all over the country. Ranging from jolly jigs (‘Trooper’s Nag’, ‘The Collier Lad’, ‘Martinmass Time’) to evocative ballads (‘Jock of Hazeldean’, ‘The Cuckoo’), Prior and her minstrels reveal the timeless beauty of these heritage pieces with interpretive deftness and a tender heart.

The title is lifted from the chorus of the album’s sole Prior original, ‘Magpie’, a joyful 40-year-old ditty that was unrecorded in its time due to the title and lyric clashing with the theme tune for ITV’s long-defunct answer to Blue Peter – so, as you might say, here’s one she prepared earlier. ~ Johnnie Craig

Maddy Prior Seven For Old England

(park records)

Jonas Brothers Jonas Brothers

After years spent pushing the musical boundaries of British folk music with, amongst others, the magnificent Steeleye Span, Maddy Prior finally gets back to acoustic basics, with spectacular results. Referencing the Folk Songs Of Olde England Vols 1 & 2 LPs she recorded with Tim Hart

(hollywood records)

Coming across like a Backstreet Boys/Busted hybrid, the Jonas Brothers’ UK debut comes after a flurry of US success. The band sound a lot like Hanson, albeit a little spunkier, and like the Mmmm Boppers, the Jonas Brothers are actual

Albums siblings who write their own material and play their own instruments.

Lead single ‘SOS’ provides a punchy, poppy start to a puppy-love rollercoaster of emotions.

Nick Jonas, the 15-year-old brother, writes most of the lyrics, which are all about, not surprisingly, girls. While it’s patently obvious that most of the songs were penned by a mid-teen, catchy guitar hooks, tuneful melodies and harmonies hint that the band may have a lot of promise.

‘Hello Beautiful’, a schmaltzy love song, will induce tears of ‘Hey there Delila’ proportions for any teenybopper with a crush. When played live, the sea of swaying glow sticks will undoubtedly be blinding. Ironically, it’s the bonus track ‘Take A Breath’ that showcases the band’s potential.

Not quite as cutesy, a little heavier but still ridiculously catchy, this song suggests that if the Jonas Brothers ditch the Disney/ Hannah Montana image, they might just be taken seriously. ~ Aoife McDonnell

Lispector Guide To Personal Happiness (twisted nerve)

Lispector, aka Julie Margat, doesn’t need to shout about her talent. She doesn’t even need to dress it up in studio sparkle. It has a delicate simplicity that is missing from so many musicians these days.

Recorded in various bedrooms over a 10-year period, Guide To Personal Happiness cracks open that old Casio keyboard case and shows you how it should’ve been done. The kitsch mixture of keys, electric guitar, synth beats and folksie vocals lock together into a magnificent mess.

Opening with an electronic instrumental, the album ebbs and flows through various genres without sounding pretentious. ‘Romantic At Heart’ and ‘Mixing You With Champagne’ have the lazy sexiness of Nina Persson, with Lispector’s own Parisian touch, while ‘Ice Cream Man’ is a fun, quirky and catchy tune that will stay in your head long into the summer months.

Mostly recorded on a four-track, the album’s roughness is its charm. Every song experiments with different synth sounds and beats. Taking influence from her French background, some tunes sound like they’ve been recorded ‘on location’, like ‘Plane Traveller’, which sounds and feels like a Parisian merry-go-round.

Finding Lispector’s album is like coming across an old trinket in your grandparent’s attic. It may be only a Guide To Personal Happiness, but it certainly does its best to get you there. ~ Elaine O’Neill

Wire Object 47

(pink flag)

Remember at school when there was always a hip, older kid in a band who was into groups that

you felt you were probably not cool enough to like or ‘get’? Chances are, one of those groups was Wire. On their epochal trilogy of early albums Pink Flag, Chairs Missing and 154, they managed to reinvent themselves with each new release, spinning the narrow palette of punk into alien shapes that flirted with ambience and psychedelia.

Although they never hit those heights again, the group’s sporadically released full-lengths always betrayed a keen sense of quality control and artistic integrity, meaning that Object 47 is a much-anticipated release. True to form, the album is comprised of a solid set of tunes which are bound to keep the fans grinning but, perhaps rather inevitably, unlikely to set the rest of the world alight.

Lead single and opening track, ‘One Of Us’, sets the tone for much of the record, in that it’s pleasantly familiar (like a faded t-shirt of your favourite old band) yet sonically unadventurous.

Reminiscent of late New Order, it’s a melodic but downbeat number with blurry guitars, a clean, robust bass melody and a moderately catchy chorus, sung in Colin Newman’s reedy register. From this point on, the album chugs and snakes eerily through a landscape of meticulously crafted, gloomy music, with the odd diversion, such as the propulsive, psychedelic fuzz of ‘Perspex Icon’ or the foreboding, industrial grind of ‘Hard Currency’. Object 47 is a far from a bad record, but it’s doubtful whether it will ever bother the iPod of that hip kid in school. ~ Darragh McCausland

Fleet Foxes Fleet Foxes

(bella union)

Fans of American alt-folk have had their rural simulation ‘nostalgia’ indulged over the past few years, with Midlake and Band of Horses bringing plaid shirts and beards to indie mainstream. But it seems Seattle-based quintet Fleet Foxes have upped the ante for those on the Bella Union label, marrying hymns, close-harmonies and heartfelt vocals to create what can be described without hyperbole as one of the best albums of 2008.

A voice with power and soul enough to silence the quiet laments of Tim Smith and Ben Bridwell,

22-year-old front man Robin Pecknold first made heartbeats quicken and compassion blaze on February’s EP Sun Giant. Now the band’s eponymous debut embraces all that enchants on Sun Giant’s stand-out track ‘Mykonos’, with the spirit of ’70s America so evident in tight group-harmonies that many have pronounced a reincarnation of true country-era CSN. Subtle, delicate acoustics, haunting baroque melodies and hymnal arrangements cushion lyrics that make it difficult to believe Fleet Foxes were born from cityscape rather than fantasy woodland: “Through the forest, down to your grave, where the birds wade and the tall grasses wave, they do not know you anymore,” Pecknold mourns in ‘Tiger Mountain Peasant Song’.

The surreal imagery wrapped in jovial campfire round ‘White Winter Hymnal’ –“Scarves of red tied around their throats, to keep their little heads from falling in the snow” – and echoing splendour that builds around the piercing piano riffs of ‘Blue Ridge Mountain’ are just two standout moments on an album of involving beauty and serenity. An intricately well-crafted record, Fleet Foxes reverbs like a classic. ~ Jo-ann Hodgson

The Offspring Rise And Fall, Rage And Grace

(sony bmg)

As the release of their first album in five years approached, Orange County punk rockers the Offspring pushed all the right buttons, releasing lead track ‘Hammerhead’ as a free mp3 download (as they have throughout their 20-year career) and talked up the collaboration with producer Bob Rock. Rock, derided by music nerds as the guy who ruined Metallica, has sharpened his commercial rock instincts in recent years, carving a niche for himself amongst rock bands who’ve lost focus and/or require a hit single. Somebody must have tipped off Dexter Holland.

Rise And Fall, RageAnd Grace bears all of Rock’s trademarks: it’s clean, precise and sounds like it was a massive chore to make: a side-effect of the producer’s perfectionist streak. Still, one has to marvel at just how good the album sounds, and at how bland the actual music is. Who could have imagined 15 years ago that the fiery band fuelled in equal doses by Nirvana and The Buzzcocks would wind up copying Muse riffs on an album that could so neatly be stacked alongside another pedestrian Foo Fighters release?

While the music’s been streamlined, the same cannot be said for the lyrical content, as Holland sticks to his routine of catchy-but-fairlymeaningless political sloganeering (“the world is crying but nobody’s listening”). Sadly, there’s nothing as quirky as ‘Come Out And Play’ or as downright divisive as the sublime ‘Pretty Fly (For A White Guy),’ ensuring that while the album may produce a hit single or three, its shelf life is already dwindling. ~ Dave Donnelly

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Reissues & Compilations Too many producers spoil the pop.

Rihanna Good Girl Gone Bad

(universal)

If you’re anything like some of the folks round the State office, you’ll have by now decreed that Rihanna’s 2007 single ‘Umbrella’ was not unlike a little slice of Hell (‘ella, ‘ella). Due in part to unpredictable Irish weather last summer, the pop nugget turned from a mildly engaging ditty into a novelty that had roundly outstayed its welcome in the Top 10. For all we know or care, it’s probably still there.

Formerly, Barbarian beauty Rihanna had drawn favour from many quarters for her chameleon-like tendencies, ever able to keep one step ahead of the pop pack: ‘Pon De Replay’ was a sizzling, hypnotically primal dancehall classic, while further across the spectrum, ‘SOS’ was an electro-clash gem of a track, nicely undercut by Rihanna’s prowling vocals.

Drawing heavily on sturdy ‘90s influences, the re-packaged version of Good Girl Gone Bad sees Rihanna move towards a full-blown slick pop opus.

The album’s many low-calorie singles ‘Don’t Stop The Music’, ‘Shut Up And Drive’ and the tiresome ‘If I Never See Your Face Again’ (an ill-advised duet with bed-wetters Maroon 5) are all glossy style and virtually no substance.

A sort of equation has begun to hold water in the pop/R&B realm: the more producers on board – and in this case, there are many – the less directional the resulting album becomes.

Still, Good Girl Gone Bad is not without its charms. ‘Push Up On Me’ is a hyper-modern take on ‘80s New York disco, while ‘Breakin’ Dishes’, although distractingly lightweight, earns kudos for its synth-driven riff. Overall, Good Girl Gone Bad is more a paean to polished pop production than anything, even if it did become Rihanna’s gilded passport into the big leagues. And, it would seem, a permanent, unshakeable foothold in the Top 10. ~ Tanya Sweeney

John Baker The John Baker Tapes

(bbc)

These days, technology develops at such an unprecedented level that artists across all of the forms must possess a cautious foresight to ensure that what currently sounds (or looks) ultramodern won’t later seem ancient and fake.

But unlike the entirety of many contemporary blockbusters (or, say, the giant spider of Wild Wild West), it is unlikely that the output of BBC’s famed Radiophonic Workshop will ever begin to show cracks. Even when detached from the visuals which prompted their composition, many of the 88 tracks of The Baker Tapes remain artistically remarkable.

Brief background advertising jingles are revealed to have been strenuously created from snippets of a shampoo bottle being blown or a ruler being struck against a table, with the tape being sped-up or slowed-down to create new notes which are then spliced together into a melody. Sure, this could now be done easily and freely by any eejit with a laptop, but Baker wasn’t experimental for the sake of it, as musical highlights such as ‘Au Printemps’, ‘Dial M For Murder’, ‘Johnny Johnson Jingles’ and ‘Sling Your Hook’ prove.

Everything that could be salvaged from the

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vaults is included on this collection, from foursecond long feedback loops to disjointed partial pieces. But where this lack of restraint and editing would normally be cause for criticism, here it feels justifiable and even essential, because of a sense of belonging to the overarching work.

Nearly a half-century old, this is electro-acoustic music in digestable, well-developed and melodic chunks, with all of the elements that make the likes of Animal Collective or Dan Deacon seem ‘weird’ today. ~ Bobby Aherne

Dennis Wilson Pacific Ocean Blue / Bambu

(epic)

Imagine it’s 1977 in California: you’re 19 and working in a diner. You go home and get stoned out of your mind and listen to Pacific Ocean Blue.

It sounds amazing, like Dark Side of the Moon played by a woozy Steely Dan. 31 years later and the album is notable for the being the only release by the Beach Boy before his death, brought on by alcohol abuse in 1983.

This re-release aims to recapture that amazement with a two-disc package featuring a never-released album and extra tracks. First album, Pacific Ocean Blue sounds dated at times but you can’t doubt the effervescence in the ar-

rangements of songs like the joyous ‘River Song’ and ‘Rainbows’, even though Wilson’s lyrics lack depth (Wilson agreed with this sentiment post-release). The songs are imbued with his self-taught piano-playing style but the cracks in his personal life were beginning to show. It’s also proof that Brian wasn’t the only talented brother, even if Dennis was still finding his feet musically.

The second disc is the real draw for fans as it features remastered sessions for the unfinished second album Bambu, which despite being bootlegged heavily throughout the years, has never been officially released until now. By the time he was recording these sessions, his life was on the slide and despite the rockier edge to Bambu, Wilson sounds like he’s fading, which would sadly come to pass. It succeeds as an aural biography of a man in decline, rather than a genuinely superb musical treat from the vaults. ~ Niall Byrne

The Pogues Just Look Them Straight In The Eye (rhino) And Say... Pogue Mahone Despite a career spanning 20-odd years, The Pogues’ legacy seems to be boiling down to two things: ‘Fairytale Of New York’ and Shane

Reissues & Compilations MacGowan’s seemingly indestructible constitution. But there was a lot more to the story than that and, in terms of this 100-plus track box set, perhaps too much. As always with these things, it’s a treasure trove that you will dip in and out of but perhaps never digest in one sitting.

Made up of out-takes, B-sides, demos and live tracks, it tells The Pogues’ story in a fittingly haphazard way, flitting through the years with scant regard for chronology. It’s their early period that proves the most fruitful and an indication of what a shock their mainstream success was in a time of The Smiths et al. That they could record BBC session tracks such as ‘The Auld Triangle’ and ‘Poor Paddy On The Railroad’ in the midst of Irish paranoia is still incredible. Shane’s voice sounds strong and full of energy, whilst previously unearthed gems such as ‘Do You Believe In Magic’ already hinted that there was life beyond the rebel songs.

The two albums that cemented their status are represented only by alternative and live versions (including ‘that’ song in three demo attempts) and if you want a handier introduction, look elsewhere. Like the band themselves, this isn’t perfect but nor does it profess itself to be: yet any back catalogue that can contain the heartbreaking ‘Rainy Night In Soho’ has to be worthy of elevation to greatness. Remember them this way.

This Best Of does at least feature remastered tracks (much improved) and even though two latter day clangers (the truly awful ‘Hello Mary Lou’ and ‘Molina’) get through the net, the inclusion of the awesome but lesser known ‘Lodi’ and ‘Cotton Fields’ balance out a marvellous listen. If Bruce sounds threatening when he asks about a lack of knowledge of Creedence, it’s the truth. Start here if you must, but start: their legacy is simply awesome. ~ Durell Connor

~ Phil Udell

Mudhoney were forerunners of the Seattle scene that exploded globally in the early ‘90s. Lead singer Mark Arm’s previous line-up incarnations included Stone Gossard and Jeff Ament of Mother Love Bone and Pearl Jam fame, and the band were a direct influence on eventual scene godfathers, Nirvana, which led to some explosive double headliner tours.

Whilst Pearl Jam and Nirvana polished up and took the major label careerist route to recognition, Mudhoney remained true to their roots and in so doing so, became underground icons of garden shed musicians everywhere.

The re-release of their attention grabbing debut Superfuzz Bigmuff comes with a bolstered track listing, demos and additional live CD. Legendary lead single ‘Touch Me I’m Sick’ (which can still be heard moshing up alternative clubs) kicks off a dirty thunder, whilst other slabs of west coast American disaffection, ‘Mudride’, ‘If I Think’ and the superb ‘In And Out Of Grace’ seek out the rebellious and disenfranchised.

As with all scenes, the first three or four bands to emerge breathe fresh new sounds through indigenous lungs: most bands that directly follow, copy, imitate, steal, beg and borrow. Mudhoney are originals: seminal, necessary and important.

Creedence Clearwater Revival Best Of

(fantasy/universal)

To quote Bruce Willis to a maverick hacker in Die Hard 4.0 “what, you’ve never heard of Creedence?” A band born in San Franciso from the ashes of long forgotten groups, Creedence Clearwater Revival rank alongside The Byrds as the greatest and most important American group of all time. What is truly astouding is how brightly they burned and how quickly it was over. Everything here that matters was released between ‘68 and ‘70 on the albums Creedence Clearwater Water, Bayou Country, Green River and Comos Factory (just buy them!). Both Willy And The Poor Boys and Pendulum are lesser works, despite some heart-stopping moments, and only serve to emphasise their rapid decline (due to the band wishing to be more involved with John Fogarty’s flawless songwriting).

Managing to marry the blues, a darker country swamp rock, a very political heart and rage with the most memorable of melodies, their indelible stamp is felt deeply in America today, where there music is omnipresent. Their seering political side is most evident in ‘Born On The Bayou’ (written the night of Bobby Kennedy’s assasination), ‘Run Through The Jungle’ (Vietnam), ‘Who Will Stop The Rain’ (dropping bombs in Vietnam) and ‘Fortunate Son’ (dodging the draft). These are songs (‘Fortunate Son’ in particular) which, thanks to a certain bunch of clowns in the White House, have become relevant all over again.

Mudhoney Superfuzz Bigmuff (Deluxe Edition) (sub pop)

~ Martin McIver

Various Artists The Best Of The Johnny Cash TV Show (legacy recordings)

The liner notes of CD/DVD set The Best of the Johnny Cash TV Show stop mercifully short of

crediting Cash with ending the Vietnam War, but the series’ political subtext is self-evident. During its two-year stint on US network television, The Johnny Cash Show pushed the boundaries of acceptable dissent: imagine Later With Jools Holland, were Holland to comprise his show entirely of old rock n’ roll dudes in their late ‘30s or early ‘40s singing about peace and love and all those good things, before being cancelled following its second season.

The Johnny Cash Show was more than a mere variety show. It was an opportunity for Cash to recount the history of American popular music, a form of cultural patriotism, from the originators (Jerry Lee Lewis performs ‘Whole Lotta Shakin’’ and Carl Perkins waxes his ‘Blue Suede Shoes’) to contemporaries like Neil Young (singing the chilling ‘Needle And The Damage Done’) and a young Eric Clapton, performing the standard ‘Matchbox’ with Cash and Perkins.

If ‘The Man In Black’ has aged atrociously, a clumsy attempt to appeal to popular anti-war sentiment, ‘Ring of Fire’ re-affirms its greatness: Cash opens both sets with the original, trumpet-led recording, but Ray Charles’ sexed-up organ-blues version is the true highlight. Cash teams up with Louis Armstrong for a re-working of Jimmy Rogers’ ‘Blue Yodel’ and Tammy Wynette delivers a perfect ‘Stand By Your Man’ on this equally flawless double-disc set, a testament to the musicians involved and the engineers who updated the primitive recordings while maintaining their essential character. ~ Dave Donnelly

The Stupids Jesus Meets The Stupids / Van Stupid / (visible noise) Frankfurter Originally released in 1987, Jesus Meets The Stupids is all hardcore guitars, played ridiculously fast, interspersed with the Ipswich skate punk trio urging you to buy said record and plugging their record label, alongside lyrics you’re not sure if you caught just right.

While it all sounds a little samey after a while and the uninitiated may have trouble distinguishing one Stupids’ track from another, songs like ‘Do You Really Have To’ and humorous interludes such as ‘Jazz Vacation’ stand out from the crowd. Other highlights include ‘You Don’t Belong’, the slightly awkward ‘Jesus Do What You Have To’ and the opener ‘You’ll Never Win’, which sets the tone for the entire album - fast, loud and proud.

Van Stupid / Frankfurter is more of the same, featuring tracks with the memorable names ‘Rootbeer Death’, ‘Hot Babes’ and ‘Inbred Zombies’.

‘Megazombie’ should raise a smile too, even if the lyrics are extremely limited, while ‘Raise The Breadknife’ is deliciously twisted.

The Stupids might not be to everyone’s taste, but they’re the kind of band that you could turn up and drop-out to, while conveniently managing to annoy the neighbours into the bargain. Just don’t take them too seriously. ~ Ciara O’Brien

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TV DVD

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Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson are magnificent as two disgruntled Irish hitmen in Martin McDonagh’s debut feature film

In Bruges Director: Martin McDonagh. Starring: Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson, Ralph Fiennes. Running Time: 103 minutes.

Extras: Deleted Scenes, Gag Reel, Featurettes

Martin McDonagh’s first feature-length film is a meditation on redemption, principles and morality but don’t let that put you off. It’s also hilarious in places, with Gleeson and Farrell, the perfect Irish duo, trading in biting, idiosyncratic lines for the majority of the movie.

The plot concerns two hitmen who are sent to Bruges (in Belgium, as the film hilariously establishes) by their boss and are told to await his instructions after a hit gone awry. Ken (Gleeson) loves the cultural aspects of the distinctive medieval city – “the old buildings, the swans, the canals” while the nuanced Ray (Farrell) hates everything about Bruges when he’s not in the pub and wants to leave. The interplay between the two relies heavily on a particularly Irish humour and both characters’ heavy Dublin brogue. The fairytale city of Bruges becomes much more than a setting. It’s lovingly shot, with a mix of panoramic and close-up views of the architecture: the beautiful cinematography is covered in yellow hues at night and plenty of wintry white light during the day scenes.

The plot takes in a movie set, a midget, overweight Americans, drugs, guns, a mysterious Belgian love interest, a rather curious Flemish man and Ralph Fiennes in an impressive cockney role. As it nears its conclusion, the plot veers towards the predictable, as the film descends into a bloodbath, but McDonagh should be praised for making a film which is equally funny and melan-

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]

cholic. An engaging, cliché-free and well-rounded debut, marking McDonagh out as one to watch.

For Fans of: Six Shooter, Neil Jordan, David Mamet. ~ Niall Byrne

Things We Lost In The Fire Director: Susanne Bier. Starring: Halle Berry, Benicio Del Toro, David Duchovny.

Running Time: 113 minutes.

Extras: A Discussion About..., Deleted Scenes, Theatrical Trailer.

When Audrey Burke’s (Berry) picture perfect husband Brian (Duchovny) is shot dead, while trying to intervene in a domestic violence dispute, she forms an unlikely friendship with Brian’s old friend Jerry Sunborne (Del Toro), who she never approved of when her husband was alive. Where Brian was sensitive, caring and selfless, his oldest friend spends his life drinking, smoking, listening to old rock ‘n’ roll at ear-bleeding volumes through headphones and shooting up heroin.

Racked by guilt and loss, Audrey is struggling to cope with bringing up her two kids, and bizarrely asks Jerry, who’s trying to get clean, to move into their newly renovated garage.

What could have been a mawkish, overly sentimental mush-fest (in a TV movie based on real events kind of way), is handled pretty skilfully by Danish director Susanne Bier in her first English language film. Both Berry and Del Toro are superb as two extremely damaged, fragile people attempting to move on with their lives, and the supporting cast are similarly impressive (especially Alexis Llewellyn and Micah Berry as

the Burke children). The trouble is, for all its good points, Things We Lost In The Fire is painfully slow: with some judicious editing, this could have been right up there with Berry’s previous showstopper, Monster’s Ball, but as it is, it takes so long to make its point that most viewers will have long since switched off.

For Fans of: Monster’s Ball, Leaving Las Vegas. ~ John Walshe

Heroes Season 2 Starring: Hayden Panettiere, Adrian Pasdar, Kristen Bell, Zachary Quinto. Running time: 484 minutes.

Extras: Commentaries, documentaries, alternate endings

Few TV shows of recent years have raised expectations more than Heroes, as it’s groundbreaking first season re-wrote the book on science fiction, introducing the concept of characterisation and everyday human concerns amongst the superhuman feats. Season Two was always going to have a lot to live up to, but found itself crippled by the US writers’ strike. Even on the second viewing, the cracks are clear.

Where the first outing managed to balance a myriad of different storylines within one cohesive whole, this is all over the place. New characters pop up at will, while the old faces find themselves transposed into bizarre new settings, including medieval Japan and a barely believable Ireland.

Even arch villan Sylar seems a diminished presence, struggling to regain his powers. Half-way through, however, someone takes hold of the reigns and at least tries to bring the thing under control, introducing a back story that goes some

DVD TV Music DVDs New Order: Live In Glasgow Running Time: 217 minutes. Extras: Bonus disc of rare footage.

way to explaining the mess. From then on, the run begins to display a lot more cohesion and builds towards a conclusion that points towards a more satisfying third chapter. Flawed and fascinating at the same time.

For Fans of: Pushing Daises, Dr Who. ~ Phil Udell

Batman: Gotham Knight (Animated) Running Time: 75 minutes.

Extras: Limited Edition Gotham Knight Booklet, Commentary.

Taking its cues from Frank Miller’s darker, more complex Batman stories, Gotham Knight is basically six standalone chapters, each with different writers and animators, woven together into a larger story. Alongside the usual mix of gang warfare and crime fighting, it takes in some of Bruce Wayne’s personal history and some seriously vicious enemies, including the fiendish Scarecrow, the freakish Killer Croc and the world’s most incredible marksman, Deadshot. With some of the writing coming from extremely talented individuals, including Josh Olson (A History Of Violence) and the Emmy Award-winning Alan Burnett, Gotham Knight could do for the caped crusader what The Animatrix did for Neo. For Fans of: Tim Burton, Frank Miller, animé. ~ John Walshe

The Onion Movie Director: James Kleiner. Starring: Steven Seagal, Michael Bolton, Len Cariou. Running Time: 82 minutes.

Extras: Deleted scenes, Outtakes

Perhaps the first time a website has been made into a movie, The Onion Movie brings America’s finest satirical news source to the screen.

Originally intended to be a theatre release, this straight-to-DVD film still packs plenty of punches, belying its troubled production status.

The thinly-veiled excuse for a plot centres on aged newscaster Norm Archer as he struggles with the parent company’s bids to advertise during his news segments. Of course, all of this is just an excuse for Archer to present the majority of the film’s skits to the audience.

We get hilarious sketches about a safety recall on neck belts, a fake movie trailer for a Steven

Bring your-local-mob-boss’-daughter to the slaughter: The Cottage

Seagal movie (which actually stars Seagal) called Cockpuncher, a teen singer modelled on Britney Spears who’s oblivious to the double entendre of songs like ‘Shoot Your Love All Over Me’ and ‘Lollipop Love’. Even Michael Bolton makes an appearance!

By dispensing with character clichés normally associated with films in this piss-taking genre, it frees itself from annoying caricature stereotypes and focuses squarely on the gags, succeeding best when it concentrates on the type of humour readily associated with The Onion’s website, which is more often than not.

For Fans of: Airplane, The Daily Show, The Day Today. ~ Niall Byrne

The Cottage Director: Paul Andrew Williams. Starring: Andy Serkis, Reece Shearsmith, Jennifer Ellison. Running Time: 88 minutes.

Extras: None.

When desperate brothers David (Serkis) and Andrew (Shearsmith) kidnap the daughter of local mob boss Arnie, they take her to a remote country cottage, there to wait for the ransom to arrive.

Unfortunately for them, what starts out like Carry On Kidnapping soon turns into a hybrid of The League Of Gentlemen and Cannibal Apocalypse, as the locals turn out to be far more dangerous than the cockney thugs they’re trying to outwit.

Brookside’s Jennifer Ellison is impressive as the foul-mouthed kidnap victim, but it’s Serkis and Shearsmith who steal the show as the bungling kidnappers with dreams of escaping the rat-race. The humour is very much of the black variety and the violence and gore is served in giant portions. Indeed, if this is defined as a comedy horror, it’s pretty much split down the middle, with most of the humour arriving in the first half, while the latter stages are full to bursting with enough spine-ripping, head-chopping and dismembering for all of Freddy Krueger’s nightmares.

For Fans of: Re-Animator, Boy Eats Girl, Slither.

For one of the world’s most influential bands, New Order have always enjoyed a shaky relationship with the live medium. Live In Glasgow is in many ways the perfect microcosm of this aspect of their career – half-arsed versions of new material mixed with spirited run-throughs of the classics. As with any New Order product, this is a stylish affair and reveals, in its own small way, some of the conflicts that have always fuelled the band. And when they kick into a blissful version of ‘Temptation’, the years, dodgy gigs and underwhelming records just fade away.

For Fans Of: Joy Division, 24 Hour Party People. ~ Phil Udell

Kíla: Once Upon A Time Running Time: 70 minutes. Extras: None.

When Kíla took to the Vicar St stage for their customary Christmas performance in 2006, they were about to up the ante. Always one of the country’s most innovative bands, the show that night was a genuine spectacle – a riot of colour, theatrical and circus performance and guest musicians. Now finding its way onto the small screen, the experience has lost none of its impact. Filmed on multiple cameras and edited to perfection, Once Upon A Time feels more like a genuine concert film than a hastily put together affair.

For Fans Of: Stop Making Sense, Afro Celts ~ Phil Udell

Rihanna – Good Girl Gone Bad Live Running Time: 95 mins Extras: Documentary

The chances are that, if the song ‘Umbrella’ hadn’t found its way into her fortunate hands, Rihanna would still be a middling pop star, certainly not playing venues as big as the NYMEX in Manchester and then feeling the need to release a live document of the event. As a show, it’s as polished and professional as you’d expect these days, but equally lacking in heart. It all builds inexorably towards that song which, when it does finally appear, is inexplicably lacklustre.

For Fans Of: Beyoncé, Jay Z. ~ Phil Udell

~ John Walshe

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TV Hey! Did you See Channel 4,763 Last Night?

Words by Maia Dunphy

I don’t think I’m old enough to start sentences with “I remend surfing through this new digi-world ember when..”, but I honestly do remember when many people in Ireland only had two channels. I considered myself lucky growing up, as we had five – six when the weather was good and the aerial hadn’t been blown askew (where was Rod Hull when you needed him?). These days, if you don’t have at least 400 channels to choose from, you’re nobody. But how many people have actually taken the time to sift through all the channels they have? The simple truth is, we haven’t chosen most of them: they just come with the various packages we’ve signed up for.

It’s like the ultimate ‘buy one get one free’, except it’s buy one, get hundredsyou-don’t-want-or-need free. Yes, you probably have channels you didn’t know existed all at your fingertips. There are a thousand channels available through Sky World. Just think about all the time you waste socialising with friends, out in the fresh air, walking the dog or even holding down a job when you could spend days on

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(while probably losing your eyesight and developing rickets.)

Can you imagine how difficult it must be for marketing execs at these channels to try and bring in ratings with all the competition? You try launching a specialist channel, only to be told you’ve been assigned number 56,274. Not a hope in hell. Unless of course it’s an adult channel, in which case interested parties will somehow always find them.

Every month, channels are lost, gained and rebranded. Most people are familiar with comedy channel Dave: what they don’t know, or care much about, is that it used to be UK Gold 2, before canny execs decided to male-skew the programming, broadcasting re-runs of the likes of Whose Line Is It Anyway and Bottom. Dave has now become the tenth largest channel in the UK and is about to start commissioning original programming. That’s one of the happy stories. But how many people know exactly what possible gems lurk around

that mysterious five to 700 channel mark?

Do you need a spotlight with no electrical connection or the last mop you’ll ever have to buy? Well, JML, the veritable ACME of the ‘shite you don’t need’ world, now have their very own channel alongside QVC and the more familiar shopping channels.

Word of warning: do not watch these channels late at night after a few drinks.

I recently had to go to the post office and sign for my vac-pack kit, which I have no recollection of buying. But my credit card bill says otherwise. On the plus side, I can now vacuum pack my clothes. And they threw in a free Magnicard: a magnifying reading card for when small print is driving me crazy. Small print has never driven me crazy, but if it ever even tries to, at least I’ll be prepared.

Have any of you stayed up too late watching Teacher TV – a channel aimed at professionals working in

TV Ones to Watch

Summer Heights High Tuesdays, BBC 3 There’s still time to catch the last few episodes of this award-winning Aussie mockumentary: and if you enjoy them, watch out for repeats.

Most people are sick of this type of comedy, but if you’re a fan of classic Aussie comedy like Kath & Kim, you’ll get a laugh out of this. It’s the best selling TV series DVD in Australian history: take from that what you will.

Fáilte Towers From August 1, RTE 1 Full marks for the title alone! 12 Irish personalities have the unenviable task of running a small hotel in Ireland. Between them, they will man reception, cook the food, clean the bedrooms, handle every guest complaint and deal with any ‘emergencies’ that may arise. These are people more acquainted with staying in nice hotels, so how will they fare on the other side of hospitality?

the education industry? Should you feel a little voyeuristic if you watch it and are, say, a plumber? Speaking of voyeurism, you might want to be careful as on Freeview in the UK, TeacherTV is one click down from Red Hot Fetish. Accidentally lean on the remote and innocent education industry professionals might not know what hit them.

What about bedroomtv? Nope, not an adult channel, as the name might imply, but a non-stop karaoke-fest where moody teens film themselves miming to their favourite songs, essentially making their own music video. Yes, you can become a star for four minutes (as long as you have enough credit on your phone to text in enough times to vote for your track). Andy Warhol was almost right.

Worried about your spiritual wellbeing? Then you’ll be glad to hear that most of the religious channels are free to air and sit around the 700 mark. A friend of mine was delighted to hear that Loveworld was free to air. “Brilliant!’ he exclaimed, heading straight home to find it. “Most

(Left) Who’s Line Is It Anyway? on channel Dave.

We ALL had hair like that. (Above) QVC: tough on insomnia. Tough on the causes of insomnia.

of those channels are like, about 12 euro a month”. I didn’t have the heart to point out that he was thinking of Babeworld, and that Loveworld was all about Jesus’ love, rather than the wanton love of ‘real girls who want to talk to you now’. He was gutted.

I don’t live in Sky World, I live in NTL Village where my viewing options are not quite so numerous. But I cope. What I’d like to know is, what household in the UK and Ireland has the most channels? Is there any way to find out? Someone must know. Many are pay-per-view, so I would imagine digi-addicts have to be careful.

Not that it would be a badge of honour, as it would probably be someone who hasn’t left the couch in years. Well, except to drag themselves to the door to sign for their JML home steam-cleaner-slash-juicer with built in microwave and emergency flotation device.

Burn Up July, BBC2 Nail-biting two-part thriller from the multiaward-winning writer of The Full Monty, Simon Beaufoy. A story of love, commitment and divided loyalty starring The West Wing’s Bradley Whitford and Neve Campbell.

Super Garden July, RTE 1 Gardening ‘expert’ Dermot O’Neill has always reminded me of someone’s creepy uncle, the one you get stuck with at family weddings who spits slightly. Nevertheless, he’s fronting this new show where amateur garden designers compete to exhibit their work at the ‘2009 Bloom in the Park’. I’m sure they’d prefer a cash prize, but if this sort of TV is your thing, then you’ll probably like it.

X-Factor ITV Sparks will fly as this year sees Grande Dame Sharon Osbourne replaced with street fighter Cheryl Cole. Cowell will be in his element in a Minogue/Cole sandwich. I’d imagine Louis Walsh probably won’t care much…

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Books Self Love Is No Love

Words by Paula Shields

Novelist Gerard Donovan’s debut short story collection is peopled with a wealth of memorable characters, but ultimately explores the essense of the individual.

Country Of The Grand Gerard Donovan

faber

“Frailty, thy name is man.”

Kids lose parents to sudden death or equally sudden, equally unexplained departure. Men and women face facts they didn’t know or didn’t want to about their spouses or lovers. New Ireland builds roads over the old, hiding the evidence, the treasures of the past in the demands of the present. New Northern Ireland barely disguises the old, with paramilitaries from both sides now allegedly co-operating in armed robbery. Though the human need for connection is self-evident in many of the tales in Gerard Donovan’s evocative new collection, Country Of The Grand, the individual is ultimately on his or her own

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in the moments of insight, of crisis, of total breakdown which populate these stories.

Literally so, in the case of recently widowed Listowel resident, Mrs Mary Connolly, in ‘Another Life’, who gets more than she bargained for in the reading of her husband’s will, his treasured last words after an unexpected heart attack (many of the deaths and disappearances in this book seem to arrive out of the blue).

Mrs Connolly’s tale combines two of the ties that bind all 13 stories (four of which have been published elsewhere). The theme of loss and the evocative backdrop of the road-trip are sprinkled throughout this debut short

story collection from the talented pen of Donovan, the Irish-born, New York-based author of three well-received novels: Schopenhauer’s Telescope, Dr Salt and Julius Winsome. Many of his tales, including ‘Morning Swimmers’, ‘Shoplifting In The USA’, and ‘How Long Until’, turn on a revelation which forever alters the relationship of a (usually married) couple.

These crafted mini-narratives are as much a reminder of how single and singular the self is, no matter how many years we’ve communally clocked up with a significant other.

Loss from a child’s point of view is also skilfully explored. In ‘Glass’ and ‘The Summer Of Birds’, respectively, a boy’s father dies and a girl’s mother leaves. In each, the re-settling of the home is complicated by the arrival of a strange man, intruding on the domestic scene of child and remaining parent.

There is loss of the past too in shiny ‘21st century Ireland’, the personal kind in the title story, and a more sweeping vista in ‘Archaeologists’, where a dig on the construction site of a new road is as much about containing and concealing the past as uncovering it.

In a marked contrast to his novels to date, all of the stories but one are located in Ireland (‘Harry Dietz’ is a brilliant, moving tour-de-force about one man’s odyssey - again partly into the past - through Illinois.) Donovan’s native Galway provides the setting for most, with detours into Kerry and Clare and occasional nods to Dublin. Readers here will recognise the landmarks of new roads and new immigrants, but his startling prose takes on the familiar and presents it anew in arresting images. The collection comes to rest in ‘Visit’, where the narrator goes to see his elderly mother in a nursing home in Mullingar. As he takes her on an unauthorised road-trip in her wheelchair, mother and son in unspoken harmony, Country Of The Grand ends somewhat unexpectedly on a tender and serene note.

Books

[

A preview of the month’s more interesting releases.

Stencil Nation: Graffiti, Community,and Art

By Russell Howze

]

manic d press

In 2002, Russell Howze founded StencilArchive. org, a comprehensive website documenting over 7,000 stencils from around the world. With hundreds of photos and plenty of how-to help from artists such as the renowned Banksy, this is a fantastic book for anyone with an interest in this exciting art medium.

Gigolo: His Business Is Your Pleasure

By Golden

hodder

Meet Golden. He’s gorgeous, charming, and very serious about his work. Golden sleeps with wealthy woman. In exchange, they give him gifts of money that fund his expensive lifestyle. Feel free to call him a gigolo: after all, that’s the name of his book. Just don’t call him a prostitute. A great laugh.

These Are The Days That Must Happen To You

By Dan Walsh

Words by Tony Jessen

travelling from Dakar to Ghana to South Africa, then on to North and South America. He’s been mistaken for a bum in New York, contracted typhoid in a dilapidated Bolivian hotel and had a gun pulled on him by a one-eyed, one-armed midget. These Are The Days… is Walsh’s first book and hopefully not his last. A must for people who enjoy life on the road.

My Booky Wook

By Russell Brand

The Uncommon Reader

By Alan Bennett hodder & stoughton

Winner of the 2008 Biography of the Year at the British Book Awards with and a film adaptation planned for the end of the year, Russell Brand’s gleeful tale of drugs and debauchery puts most other celebrity memoirs to shame. From Interviewing Kylie dressed as Osama Bin Laden the day after 9/11 to setting himself alight while smoking crack cocaine, this is Brand’s amazing story.

Cityboy: Beer and Loathing in the Square Mile

By Cityboy century

In 2005, bike journalist Dan Walsh departed London on an XT Desert Rat headed for Africa,

who loudly brags about how much cash he’s made on the market. After spending 12 years as a stock analyst and the past 22 months as the Londonpaper’s most popular columnist, Cityboy, a.k.a. Geraint Anderson, comes clean on life in the square mile. Cityboy will do for the city what Kitchen Confidential did for restaurants.

profile

From the author of The History Boys and The Clothes They Stood Up In comes The Uncommon Reader. When Her Majesty accidentally discovers a mobile library frequenting Buckingham Palace, she feels obliged to borrow a book. Under the tutelage of a kitchen worker named Norman, an enthusiast of gay writers, the queen develops an unexpected passion for reading, but at what expense to official duties?

headline

Who is Cityboy? He’s every brash, suited, FTcarrying idiot who ever pushed passed you on the underground. He’s the egotistical tosser

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Games Words by John Walshe

[

]

Ever fancied hearing a Mariachi version of ‘Danger! High Voltage!’?

If so, Battle Of The Bands is the game for you.

running series.

Clank sets out to prove Ratchet’s innocence in a quest which takes him all over the galaxy, from the ski resort of Glaciara to the intergalactic Le Paradis De Tricheurs Casino. The game features some incredible weaponry, although State had most fun getting to grips with our droid hero’s unique martial arts system, Clank Fu. Along the way, you’ll have to engage in a deadly ballroom dance with a dangerous, despotic duchess, engage in some beat-driven ducking and diving, as well as stepping into the shoes of Ratchet (who’s embroiled in an arena-style survival epic in the prison), Captain Quark (and his tall tales of invented heroism), and the Gadgebots, who rely on their robotic brains, rather than brawn, to get the job done.

The graphics and sound are as good as we’ve come to expect from this incredible gaming franchise, and the playability is as addictive, frustrating and unputdownable as ever. Highly recommended.

Echochrome PSP Battle Of The Bands Wii

(thq)

Music and rhythm based games have enjoyed a resurgence in recent years, thanks in the main to the spectacular success of the Guitar Hero series, which took the genre out of the hands of pre-teen girls and placed it firmly in the gamut of the boys.

This was all about testosterone-fuelled rock, giving wanna-be mulletted metallers the world over the opportunity to play their air guitars loud and proud.

Battle Of The Bands takes the Guitar Hero blueprint, tweaks it somewhat and adds in a huge layer of humour to make it a fun, if hardly essential purchase. Instead of hitting the notes with a virtual guitar, you shake, stab and jerk the Wii remote in time with the beat – but with the mechanic coming straight out of the Guitar Hero songbook – so those of a rhythmically challenged persuasion can stop reading now.

As the name suggests, however, it’s all about musical combat, with correct combos firing missiles at a rival band, who are playing the same song simultaneously – you can also use the B trigger to fend off your enemies’ assaults. You notch up points by hitting the beats in time or by successfully blasting your opponents with your special attacks. The winner is, obviously enough, the band with the most points at the end of the song.

So far, so humdrum, you may think, but here’s Battle Of The Bands’ secret weapon: the artists are split into five genres (rock, country, hip-hop,

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Latin and marching) and every time one of the bands hits a combo successfully, they take control of the song, which leads to some very interesting interpretations, that vary from the sublime (the marching band take on ‘Blitzkrieg Bop’) to the hilarious (a countrified ‘Black Betty’) and on to efforts that should be diagnosed as crimes against music (The Rumbleweeds’ turning ‘Insane In The Brain’ into a redneck hoedown still gives State nightmares).

Like the majority of games on the Wii, this works best as a two-player affair, as long as you keep the curtains closed – indeed, State was surprised and disgruntled by our flat-mate’s previously undisplayed innate sense of rhythm (must be something in the Monaghan water). Seriously, rent this, get your mates around after a few pints and watch a whole lotta shakin’ going on.

Secret Agent Clank PSP

(scee)

Separated from his best friend and intergalactic superhero, Ratchet, who has been arrested for a crime he didn’t commit and sent to the solar system’s most infamous prison, everybody’s favourite robot sidekick has to take centre stage in this handheld adventure.

Developed by the same team who brought Ratchet & Clank: Size Matters to PSP, Secret Agent Clank features the same combination of action, platforming, combat, puzzle-solving and humour as previous games in the long-

(scee)

Echochrome is possibly the most irritating puzzle game that State has ever set thumbs on, but that could be just because we’re far from spacially aware. The game puts you in control of a walking matchstick man, and you have to guide him around a 3D vector-world by constantly changing the perspective. For instance, if your character is about to fall through a hole, you have to move the entire screen so that there’s a beam below for him to land on safely, or if there’s a gap in the masonry, you need to block it with a pillar. Basically, it’s all about perspective – when a hole is blocked from view, it does not exist, or when the gap between two pathways is blocked from view and the paths appear to be connected, they are.

This sounds easy enough but when you’re swinging the ‘camera’ left, right, up and down in quick succession to guide your character safely around the world, it becomes far more difficult. State almost hurled its PSP through an open window on more than one occasion. That said, the sense of achievement when you actually manage to complete a puzzle is palpable and worth all the frustration previously endured. Just about.

Monster Jam Xbox 360, PS2, Wii, PC, DS

(activision)

Monster Jam is nothing to do with brutish behemoths seeking out sweet conserves to spread on their bread… if only. Instead, it’s a racing title that puts you behind the wheel of massive four-wheeldrive trucks with tyres as big as the trailers most

Games done it once. It’s also ridiculously easy, and any driving fans worth their place on the starting grid should be capable of notching up victories without breaking sweat. The result: what should have been big, brainless fun is only marginally more exciting than plucking one’s eyebrow hairs.

Space Invaders Extreme/ Arkanoid DS DS of the people who like this kind of stuff live in.

Yes, it is that dumb.

That said, State’s just as capable of getting silly with the best of them if the fun quotient is worth it, but sadly, here is where Monster Jam really falls flat. Sure, the graphics are as big and bold as you’d like, the trucks are incredibly responsive and the action is as over-the-top as the vehicles themselves, with players rewarded for grabbing big air on the jumps and capable of smashing practically everything in their path. It’s just all a little dull and pedestrian once you’ve

(square enix)

Two of the best loved games from the past are dredged up, dusted down and given a spot of polish for the mobile generation. New weapons, including some incredible power-ups, and never-before-seen enemies serve to freshen up the Space Invaders franchise, but the formula remains as simple as ever – blast your way through wave after wave of alien attackers.

Arkanoid, meanwhile, incorporates the same bat-and-ball block-breaking technique as when it first appeared in arcades back in 1986, and the gameplay proves timeless. While they may not

stack up against the best the new generation of games has to offer, both these old classics prove themselves as addictive as they’ve always been.

Six of the Best Gaming highlights of the coming weeks.

Shrek, John H. Williams, Space Chimps promises 11 levels of tumbling, jumping, climbing and swinging, as players unleash their inner simian through a combination of combat and puzzle-solving. The game features two-player co-op mode, and with its pedigree, there should be some suitably OTT humour to go along with the monkey high-jinks.

Brothers in Arms Hell’s Highway

Soulcalibur IV

Xbox 360, PS3 (Namco Bandai) As the name suggests, this is the fourth instalment in the popular beat-em-up franchise. What it doesn’t hint at, however, is the stunning graphics, incredible sound and wealth of characters, some familiar and some surprises, that go into making up the finest combat game to date on the next gen. consoles. The introduction of Star Wars’ Darth Vader and Yoda to the usual line-up of worthy combatants is wonderful. State has tried the multiplayer levels and can confirm that they’re absolutely stunning.

Space Chimps

Xbox 360, PS2, Wii, DS Based on the hotly anticipated CGI-animated movie of the same name from the creator of

Xbox 360, PS3, PC Ubisoft’s critically acclaimed squad-based shooter makes its next gen. debut, dropping you into Operation Market Garden, the largest paratrooper operation in World War II. The game stars the familiar faces of Matt Baker, Joe Hartsock and the rest of the characters from the 101st Airborne Division as they fight to open the infamous Hell’s Highway in a daring bid for a quick end to the war. As well as improved graphics and sound, Hell’s Highway also promises a host of powerful new units to command, including machine gunners, bazooka and mortar crews.

Madden NFL 09

Xbox 360, Xbox, PS3, PS2, PSP, Wii, DS Marking the 20th anniversary of EA’s longrunning American football sim, Madden NFL 09 promises more than 85 new features and enhancements, including EA Sports’ BackTrack (a replay learning tool) and the Virtual

Training Centre (an interactive tutorial mode).

According to the game developers, both Madden NFL veterans and casual gamers new to the franchise can utilise these two features to be competitive in the game, regardless of their initial skill level.

The Mummy: Tomb Of The Dragon Emperor

PS2, Wii, DS Based on the summer blockbuster starring Brendan Frasier, The Mummy: Tomb Of The Dragon Emperor, is a third-person actionadventure where the player follows the lead characters on their harrowing journey across exotic locations, from ancient Chinese catacombs to beautiful but dangerous Himalayan peaks, to defeat the revived servants of the Dragon Emperor, using a combination of gunplay and melee attacks.

Growlanser: Heritage Of War

PS2 Featuring stunning hand-drawn animation and character portraits by artist Satoshi Urushihara, Growlanser: Heritage Of War sees a hero rising to save his fellow humans from a growing evil, the Screapers, fierce and powerful monsters steadily encroaching on the cities of men. This strategic party-based combat fantasy should be a real epic, promising over 70 hours of gameplay. Not for the faint-hearted then.

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Anger Management

Fly Baby

Thank god for Michael O’Leary, for without him the majority of us would not be able to have eight holidays abroad a year. You would have to save for months to visit that pal in London, and take out a bank loan for all those European breaks and that cousin’s wedding in Italy.

Cheap flights may have opened up travel to the masses, but they have also made flying the most wretched experience since having verrucas burned off your feet as a child.

Ok, so we can’t blame cheap flights for every last miserable airport experience - the extra security for example. After all, I don’t think aspiring terrorists wait for weeks or months until there’s a flight offer on or spend hours scouring the internet for cheap airfares.

But what we can blame them for is turning airports into the equivalent of the Clery’s sale after Christmas.

Flying used to be such a civilised way of travelling. Let’s face it, it used to be glamorous. Now it’s hordes of people jostling and pushing their way past you, bashing your ankles with their overloaded trolleys as they try to work out if they’re in the best queue.

With most cheap flights, the seating isn’t assigned, so pushing your way to the front of the check-in is utterly futile.

We’re all booked on the flight so let’s just take our time, people.

But no-one wants to waste a second queuing that could be spend shopping for overpriced items in the non-duty free duty free, or having the first drink of the day at 9am in the departure lounge bar. Isn’t it great being able to drink 24 hours a day without being judged? Because hey, you’re on holiday!

If you thought things were bad at the check-in desks, just wait to you see the carnage at the departure gates: this is where things turn really nasty. It’s like a riot in a bingo hall.

Everyone keeps a beady eye on the monitors, and the second the appropriate gate is announced, it’s a stampede. I’ve seen a grown man left crying on the floor with possible broken ribs after a gang of over-zealous holiday-makers trampled him in a bid to be first

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Words and bile by Maia Dunphy Illustration by Christian Kirkegaard

in the queue. And then there is the great misnomer that is the ‘priority queue’: for just an extra few quid you can feel like a VIP by... well, by just standing in another queue that allows you and over a third of all passengers to board the plane before anyone else.

Truth is, the rush for the priority queue is even rougher than the one for the commoners’ queue. I’ve done the sums on this one: the first few rows are always reserved for the infirm or disabled so you’re never going to get them; the emergency exits are assigned by the staff, so you are not going to get any sort of special seat by getting on to the plane first. Perhaps you might get off the plane at the other end two minutes quicker than someone in row 26, but trust me, your holiday will not start any faster because of this, so it’s really not worth risking your family’s safety by trying to get to the front of the queue at the gate.

Surely when you’re on the plane, you can finally sit back, relax, congratulate yourself on the cheapness of your flight and enjoy the journey? No. The flight itself is a non-stop sales pitch.

It’s like going on one of those ‘completely free day trips’ at a holiday resort, where you’re forced to visit a jewellery shop or sit through a three-hour talk by a local artist, and if you don’t buy anything, you’ll be glared at as if you were just caught throwing a bag of kittens into a river. Well, in-flight services are similar.

Pre-recorded announcements blare out throughout the flight about all the fantastic offers you could avail of. There are the usual suspects of jewellery, perfume, travel accessories, cuddly planes (who ever thought of them?), but now there are also exclusive scratch cards which guarantees that at least one customer on a flight somewhere over the next year or so might win a million Euro. Yes folks, you can now gamble mid-air. Come on, they have to make their money back somehow: do you not remember how cheap your flight was?

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