Waxxx Magazine - Media Pack 2012 - 13

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WHY WAXXX?

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MEDIA PACK 2012-13

Waxxx is the definitive guide to what’s happening in the city. Music, Art, Fashion; if its worth knowing its in Waxxx. Since launching in October 2010 our growth has been dramatic, we have been blown away by our pick up rate and can now boast a loyal readership base with demand growing all the time. Waxxx covers contemporary, independent, alternative and youth culture. We know what’s going on now and what’s coming next and this is represented in the magazine from our carefully designed layout to our brave and uncompromising content. We have a strong connection with our audience; they look to Waxxx as the authority on what to see and hear in their city. We communicate directly with our readers creating a unique bond that keeps them coming back for more. This connection can benefit your brand, enabling your advertising budget to go much further and provide real results.

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ISSUE 3 FEB 2011

ISSUE 2 DEC’ 10

FREE

•••

FREE

In April 2012, Waxxx was distributed across Manchester and Leeds. Because we understand that no two cities are the same, we gave each city its own unique magazine with city specific tailored content. In doing so, we were able to communicate and engage our audience in a way that no other universal publication could. www.waxxx.co.uk

Waxxx has one of the biggest circulations of any free publication in Liverpool. We distribute 20,000 issues every month to locations visited frequently by our target audience. We have a strong following, brand recognition and a connection with our target consumers. The data we collect on that group through our social networking groups such as Facebook, Twitter: @WaxxxWaxxx, Kin2kin. com, and tss-cen.com proves that there really is no other option for advertising in Liverpool. Nobody communicates to our readers like we do because we are the voice of our readers. The magazine is compiled by a large number of our audience, to maintain a strong connection, and have honest and differing opinions of more than just a secular group. This enables the advertiser to be seen in a more accepting light by association. In fact, we can also provide you with photographers, illustrators and designers in order to make your message far more relevant and understanding to our readers. Interactive journalistic style means the readers want to pick up Waxxx every month. Uncompromising content, highlighting the true Liverpool and not polishing everything in the city gives the audience something unique and means the readers can trust our opinion. The Waxxx design is very contemporary and in line with our target market who want to be up to date.

ISSUE 4 APR 2011 FREE

5 FREE

6 FREE


WHO ARE THE READERS

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MEDIA PACK 2012-13

The relationship we have with our audience is personal. We know what they want and when they want it. They are fussy and keep well ahead of the current trends, which is why it is so important that we are too. Our audience data:

% 2.2

13-17

% 3.2

30

18-24

31

8

25-34

18

1.1

35-44

2.3

Our core demographic are aged 18 to 24, this bracket form 61% of our readership with an almost equal split of male and females.

0.38

45-54

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They are trend-setters amongst their peers.

0.89 43%

55+

0.89 56%

They love music, play music, make music, discuss music, go see music, swap music, share music, buy music: Music matters! They love art, create art, view art, discuss art, live art, art makes up the fabric of the urban environment they live in: Art matters! Our audience are large in number and high on intellect. They are students, artists, bar workers, graduates, young professionals, designers, writers, dj’s, they are from all walks of life and on all different paths but share a love of music and art. We are our audience.


www.waxxx.co.uk

Our parties are immensely popular, proving that Waxxx magazine is an incredible promotional tool to advertise. We regularly attract 800 people to our events, which offer a broad variety of music. They also in turn increase awareness of the magazine. We offer sponsorship opportunities strictly to the best and most fitting brands. We will work hard with you to ensure that your budget has maximum impact and help turn our demographic into your customers. We can also help create specific events to your requirements. In the past we have assisted on events for many clients including Google and Liverpool Food and Drink Awards. If you would like a tailored event that targets 18-24 year olds in Liverpool, you should speak to Waxxx.

EVENTS

MEDIA PACK 2012-13


DISTRIBUTION

MEDIA PACK 2012-13

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10,000 Liverpool - 5,000 Leeds - 5,000 Manchester - 40% student halls - 15% American Apparel - 30% Shops, Bars, Takeaways in student areas and city centre

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Starting 20th May 2011 Waxxx will send out 20,000 copies each issue (6,000 just wasn’t enough). This breaks down as:

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We distribute all over the city, shops, bars, clubs, student unions, restaurants and pubs. We are constantly being asked for more copies of Waxxx to be distributed to these different outlets. Keeping up with demand is tough but we manage to supply all of these businesses with our free magazine quickly and now have a distribution list of over 200 outlets across Merseyside. Nich

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CLIENTS

www.waxxx.co.uk

MEDIA PACK 2012-13

Here are some of the businesses that have worked with us;

CHIBUKU

SHIPPING FORECAST

AMERICAN APPAREL

DIESEL

HOOKA

EVOL

FACT

BAA BAR

LIVERPOOL SOUND CITTY

LIVERPOOL MUSIC WEEK

SANKEY’S

ACTIONAID

THE MASQUE

TOPMAN CTRL

POP BOUTIQUE

THE KAZIMIER


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ADVERTISING RATES

MEDIA PACK 2012-13

FULL PAGE ............................ £350 BACK PAGE ............................ £500 HALF PAGE ............................ £225 INSIDE FRONT ....................... £400 QUARTER PAGE .................... £120 INSIDE BACK .......................... £400 1/8 .......................................... £75 DOUBLE ................................... £450 1/16 ........................................ £40 CENTRE ................................... £500 Generous discounts offered for block campaigns

Design from £30 per page. Significant discounts available for block bookings. Please call for more details. Prepayment is required for all adverts before going to print. * Artwork Requirements If possible, artwork should be sent as a CMYK high-res JPEG or TIFF file @ 300dpi. PDFs, Adobe photoshop documents, Adobe InDesign documents, and Adobe Illustrator documents (including EPS files) are also accepted. Please convert all fonts to paths. Artwork accepted via email or on CD. When supplying images to our design team, please use high res images (not web images). All adverts should include a 3mm bleed, and a 5mm quiet area (no text within 5mm of the edge of the document)

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1/8

FULL PAGE

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PAGES

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MEDIA PACK 2012-13

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Ear Waxxx WORDS: Waxxx

The cuts are upon us and as the government’s mighty scissors come snipping away at our public sector, one area in particular is feeling the pinch. The arts are experiencing withdrawal symptoms like an MD addict on a Sunday morning, twitching, nervous and filled with the feeling that it’s never going to be that good again. We’ve ridden the wave of Labour’s artistic generosity and come down into a black hole of budget cuts. But it’s not all doom and gloom; someone must be salvaging the shipwreck of artistic integrity – surely? Well no, and this is probably going to depress the shit out of you but bear with me here. When searching for a topic for this article, I was informed by Waxxx HQ that the A Foundation on Greenland Street had closed its doors once and for all. Dismayed by the news, I delved a bit deeper and unearthed an almost predictable tale of spending cuts that had comprised the funding for the venue, not an unfamiliar story right now. However, upon chatting to Mark Waugh, the CEO of the A Foundation it became apparent that this wasn’t just a case of public funding pulling the plug on unprofitable endeavours but quite the opposite. Over the last couple of years the A Foundation, through its venues in both London and Liverpool, have taken public funds and raised nearly triple the amount of cash. So not only was it an economically viable operation but also a huge cultural asset to a city that has taken pride in the past couple of years in its vibrant arts scene.

The Strokes Angles ...

Dan Croll Home ...

2ManyDJs Chibuku 22/04/11 ...

Esben and The Witch The Kazimier ...

Crystal Castles Baptism (Punks Jump Up Remix) ...

Imagine if you will, arriving at a house party. When you arrive you’re given your favourite drink without asking, your coat is placed as neatly as possible on a coat hanger, you’re introduced to a fine buffet of the most delicious foods, the room temperature is pleasant. You then move into the room where plenty of gorgeous individuals of the gender(s) you’re attracted to hang on your every word. Perfection. Then after ten minutes the food is replaced with Netto sausage rolls, you’re drinking Skol, most of the beautiful guests depart and you’re left having a stilted conversation with the host’s auntie.

Making his first mark on the Liverpool music scene as front man for alt rockers Dire Wolfe (who split this past February), Dan Croll has since ventured out on his own and into new musical waters. Recently bringing home the prestigious MBF songwriters award, Dan Croll has already proved his merit as a budding solo artist. His latest offering “Home” pairs an endearing and warm vocal with a hurried acoustic jangle as Croll regales us with the familiarities that for him “feel like home”. The track plays out steady and sparse, offering little foresight to the lush soundscape enveloping the second half of the song at 2:25. His new progressive folk slant pays heed to the captains of the genre - Croll’s voice bearing similarities in timbre to Beirut’s Zach Condon, or even psychfolk legend Devendra Banhart on the more sober moments of the “Cripple Crow” album. The larger moments of “Home” evoke similar emotions to the peaks of Fleet Foxes “Blue Mountain Ridge” and Arcade Fire circa “Funeral”.

These two sexy bastards will be bringing their genre-crossing set to the Masque theatre, with a back drop of jaw-dropping visuals and we really can’t wait. It’s definitely show of the year in the Waxxx calendar. Mr Ellis and Miss Pepperminta are also hosting Ink with their Happy Endings party, massaging your ears with their jumble sale records on the turntables. Let’s hope 2 Many Bouncers don’t spoil the show.

Esben and the Witch brought their own brand of gothic indie rock to The Kazimier with support coming from Teeth of the Sea and Liverpool based Anna Lena & The Orchids. With heavy backing from BBC 6 Music and Matador’s first UK signing in over 6 years, this is certainly a band to take note of. Rupert caught up with them before the show;

It could be a Monday afternoon when your experiencing major comedown, feeling blue and even welling up to homes under the hammer. The remedy for us has been Punks Jump Up remix of Crystal Castles ‘Baptism’. We are big fans of the original version but feel that Punks Jump Up give it an extra kick in the bollocks with their signature funk and cowbell style to remind us why we when we get to Thursday we are ready to put ourselves through a weekend of abuse again.

This is essentially what the long awaited album, Angles is like. ‘Machu Picchu’ opens with dramatic intensity, a summery riff, indifference from Julian Casablancas’ vocals that fits brilliantly, it finishes with the hook still ringing. It really is one of the best indie tracks of the past year. It’s why The Strokes are huge, it’s why people still adore them.

The A Foundation provided a great alternative to, and also complimented, the larger galleries within the city centre. The Tate takes pride in its larger than life exhibitions by renowned contemporary artists, whilst collections at the Walker remind us of the magnificence of pre-20th century masterpieces. But there was always room for one more contender in the ring, and A Foundation filled the position nicely. Distanced from the city centre and independently involved in the regeneration of the Baltic Quarter, the A Foundation had credentials that went beyond mere exhibition and instead focused upon revitalising a part of the city centre that had long been forgotten about.

The next two tracks struggle to leave an impression, the first song to do so is ‘You’re So Right’ and that is only because it immediately strikes that Liars could claim that it is blatant plagiarism of their superior ‘Plaster Casts of Everything’. The key changes, the tempo, the effects, production, they’re all there.

Amidst Liverpool’s cultural boom in 2008, the investor spotlight fell heavily upon one area as the city council attempted to lure in big business. But beyond the sparkle of Liverpool One, two anomalies cropped up. One sunny Sunday morning, tired of the usual haunts, I went for brunch in the now closed Leaf Tea on Upper Parliament Street followed by a trip to see the brilliant Tatsumi Orimoto exhibition at the A Foundation. However, the memory of that warm afternoon is now overshadowed by the fact that I now can’t repeat the experience. Both venues have been closed and in their places sit empty remains, surrounded by the debris of neglect. The Baltic renaissance, as short lived as it was, did not go unrecognised. In his opening speech for the 2008 Liverpool Biennial, Andy Burnham (Minister for Culture, Media & Sport at the time) acknowledged publicly the huge impact that the A Foundation had on the visual arts in Liverpool.

The album struggles to build a meaningful connection with the listener, the lyrics are frivolous and unimportant. Casablancas sings about how ‘We’re living in an empty world’ on ‘Games’, perhaps this is representative of the horribly unorganic method of putting the LP together, especially considering they weren’t all in the same room for parts of it.

You can follow Dan Croll at - http://www.myspace.com/ dancrollmusic …and catch him as part of the 3rd Degree Festival on Friday 8th April, hosted at LIPA’s Paul McCartney Auditorium. Tickets available at the address below http://www.3rddegreefestival.com/index.php/tickets

Spending cuts are everywhere, and the arts are top of the list. Who needs galleries, theatre and God forbid, art-orientated educational outreach? Er, we do. In short, the arts awaken aesthetic experience and broaden the cultural scope and critical capacities of one’s mind- but hey, in the age of austerity, who needs an open mind?

http://sadsongsfordurtylovers.blogspot.com/

... Wouldn’t it be great if we could promote our own blog here? Yes it would but at the moment we don’t have a website because we decided that the future is in print, not online. Nothing to do with us being unable to build a fucking website or make a blog............. honestly. Fortunately, other people do have the ability to make websites, namely ‘Sad Songs For Dirty Lovers’. Taking their name from The Nationals second album, they enjoy nothing more than finding and bringing you the best new music before others have even heard it.

We have indeed. We played at The Kazimier as part of Liverpool Sound City last year. It went well by all accounts and we are all excited to be returning to the venue. The album is haunting with beautiful harmonies. I can hear echoes of Cat Power and Bjork, PJ Harvey there too, whom would you cite as influences to the band’s sound and the album? The record was influenced by all manors of things. People, places real and imagined, books, stories we stumbled across. Musically we were inspired in various ways and to various degrees by HEALTH, Godspeed and Joy Division amongst a host of others. In recent years there has been an increase of female, alternative bands each with distinctive sounds (Warpaint, Peggy Sue, Beach House) coming into the mainstream limelight. Do you think there is a current trend shift towards female alternative artists? There are certainly a great number of talented female artists making music at the moment, which is a fantastic thing. As far as we’re concerned though the real turning point will be when it becomes such a normal thing that it is no longer worthy of any special note.

In terms of a track-by-track analysis previous album First Impressions of Earth was better than the mixed reviews suggested, it just wasn’t that cohesive. There was the odd poor track but plenty of good material. Parts of Angles sound like tracks that wouldn’t have reached demo stage for First Impressions, the poor non-event ‘Call Me Back’ labours horribly, it’s slow, doesn’t build up to anything and sounds like something Thom Yorke would create…once he was in the initial stages of recovery from a coma.

And so it seems bizarre that one of the venues so heavily involved in propagating Liverpool’s image of a cultural capital has now been allowed to go into administration. And it certainly is tempting to hark on about the unequal geographical distribution of arts funding in general but this issue I feel is symptomatic of a current wider dismissal of the arts.

Have you guys played Liverpool before now?

Sad Songs For Dirty Lovers

You are signed to Matador, one of the last great indie labels, how important is it for you to be signed to an independent label? It is something that is very important to us. We all feel very privileged to have the opportunity to work with a label of such stature. We have a lot of time for numerous bands on their roster, Sonic Youth for example. Matador affords us full control of our music and all elements of the aesthetic that surrounds it, which is essential to us.

Some charisma re-appears with ‘Gratisfaction’, yet another track inspiring thoughts of sun, a moderate drunken haze and a hint of giddy sing-a-longs. More refined improvement continues until the end of the album, with ‘Life is Simple in the Moonlight’ being a solid, driving closer. Alas, that’s the problem with Angles, its stellar moment comes immediately, and then struggles with material ranging from poor to good. The Strokes are capable of great things but this is a frustrating album, you know that given a little care and attention Angles could have brought indie rock right back to the fore. It doesn’t.

WORDS: Emma Harrison PHOTOGRAPHY: Mark Waugh

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News

Reviews

WORDS: Waxxx

WORDS: Joshua Burke, Joe Danher

/ P. 12 - 13 /

/ P. 22 - 23 /

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Dear Stephen... Goosing in 2011

WORDS: Stephen Baxendale - stephenbaxendale.blogspot.com ILLUSTRATION: Vanessa Rose Evans

Bad weather on the way

“Hasn’t Much Value”

...

...

Spiral of Mist commissioned for Merseyside – as a way of cutting down our country’s huge financial deficit and ensuring young artists are supported and encouraged the Arts Council have commissioned multi-millionaire Antony McCall to create some more weather in the sky over the river Mersey. Most days you won’t be able to see it. A snip at just £500,000.

HMV Bold Street has now closed along with many others across the country. Leaving this city with just one large music retailer. Hopefully this will be a good thing for the small independent record stores in Liverpool like 3Beat, Hairy and Probe but it’s more likely that Tesco will sweep up the rest of the sales for Snow Patrol Live DVDs and the like.

Waxxx QR Codes by James Stevens

...

Baby Bieber came to Liverpool

Keep those eyes peeled

RAGS Boutique

...

artwork by Klaus Joynson

...

RAGS Boutique which makes clothing and jewellery out of all manner of materials including tyres, newspapers, plastic bags and shredded paper has opened in Liverpool. Every Friday and Saturday until April 22, the shop, in Renshaw Street (opposite the new Quiggins), will be open to the public free of charge.

He came, he saw, he got KB’d. “Bieber Fever” hit the streets, which just so happened to fall on the same day that special needs girls from all over the city were out on a school trip. They went mental. Many of them passed out, and were possibly put down after going lame. After his concert at the Echo Arena, seventeen-year old Bieber and his entourage attempted to go for a chilled beverage in Santa Chupitos. The manager told them all to fuck off.

Go look at what they’ve already done in this awesome space or actually help make some of their recycled clothing. A fashion show will be taking place on Good Friday (22nd April).

Upcoming Gigs...

2manydjs – in the interests of not getting shot, we aren’t going to mention what happened last time the gents from 2 many dj’s played Liverpool in Soulwax form. All we will say is that this will be awesome.

Fiesta Obscenic – although this clashes with Chew Disco we just had to put it in as it features some amazing artists and it’s also in the Wolstenholme Creative Space, scene of our very own Waxxx House Party in March.

Teeth – We’ve been banging on about Teeth for a while now. Still, this should be an awesome gig, as part of the Sound City Festival. Expect a delicious after party.

Yuck – Massively hyped Yuck have got an excellent PR team. We reckon they’re probably going to blow your socks off and tickle your feet whilst they’re at it though.

Black Lips – Once played downstairs in the much-adored Korova Fleet Street. Still going strong, the band will probably put on one of the years best shows.

GZA (The Genius from Wu Tang Clan) – A rather strange gig, we were supposed to be doing an interview over Skype. He was a bit too busy playing chess.

Jeniferever – Swedish 5 piece, Jeniferever will be playing upstairs at LEAF. If we aren’t still barred, we might make it down there too.

Cover Girl – Friends of Trash Kit, Is Tropical et al are playing at The Kazimier for a Ugandan LGBT charity as part of Chew Disco.

Dan Croll – Our Ear Waxxx single this month is by Mr Croll. We seem to plan a party every time Dan is busy and we’ve done it again on 8th April. Go watch before Waxxx in PMA at LIPA.

Waxxx Party – obviously. Self-promotion is still prevalent in this magazine. This Friday, we are pleased to announce we will be hosting our party in Shipping Forecast, possibly our best venue yet. Entry is only £3, but get down before midnight if you want to get in.

Is Tropical – We’ve booked this one for 6th May all by ourselves. It’ll be at the newly opened Magnet on Hardman Street followed by new clubnight Fake.

MCAT boy strikes again. Late. Again. Fortunately this time, the promoter was kind enough to halt the night’s proceedings in anticipation of my arrival. Either that or The Kazimier performances start later. Missed the first band, I think. The second, Get People instantly grabbed my attention, (which was rather difficult at the time). I was not alone in being grabbed, as the crowds began to fill the Kazimier, they too were more often drawn to the stage rather than scuffling off for a drink. Track Careless was an instant hit and even got sober people moving on the spot, although a second listen provides little insight into the live raw power the band offered up on the night. Get People are certainly destined for bigger things. The third weren’t as impressive as the first, but that’s not to say they weren’t good. Dustland hail from Liverpool and are probably awesome (they certainly have a lot of passion and talent and have just been signed to Deltasonic I believe). They packed their set with plenty of visual pleasantness and enough high-tempo keyboarding to keep the kids happy but I just couldn’t get past the Ian Curtis impersonating lead-singer’s vocals and went for a cigarette. When Crystal Fighters finally took to the stage they brought with them the energy and enthusiasm which often evades touring bands. Their basque-indieelectro-pop features beautiful melodies infused with heavy techno beats. You could be forgiven for thinking they’ve jumped on the “Crystal” bandwagon following the success of Crystal Castles, Crystal Antlers et al, however there is an excellent, if slightly pretentious reason for the band’s name. Crystal Fighters is the name of an unfinished opera of a former member’s Grandfather, but that has little relevance tonight. The crowd seemed slightly slow in sharing the enthusiasm of Crystal Fighters at first. Once they started moving though, they didn’t stop thanks in no small part to the powerful set laced with harmonies and dnb bringing something of a carnival to the packed out Kazimier, which by the way was the perfect setting for the affair. Fronted by Sebastian Pringle, a long-haired hippy from the home counties, Crystal Fighters took me and my entourage (girlfriend) by surprise. Having only heard Xtatic Truth on a Kitsuné Maison CD, I began hunting for more but got disenchanted and felt rather foolish on the evening for doing so. I want more.

Coined by the artists, their community and critics alike, an innavigable web of hybrid genres has emerged and continues to grow in both number and obscurity. Some are laughable cousins of that from which they are derived (whose idea was “Spazcore” anyway?) whilst others offer a firmer grasp of an act’s bid for individuality Meet Dananananaykroyd, the self professed “fight pop” six piece consisting of John Baillie Jr (vocals) Calum Gunn (vocals) Duncan Robertson (guitar) David Roy (guitar) Ryan McGinness (bass) and Paul Carlin (drums). It’s not a term you’ll have heard kicked around very often but clear none the less in its implications and certainly a crown that fits if their reputation as one of the UK’s most energetic live bands is apt Like their nod to the much loved canadian actor, there is nothing subtle about the tongue in cheek nature of the young Glaswegians. Take singles “totally bone” and “pink sabbath” or the rumoured working title of the new album “I honestly can’t believe you got that much ham into a solitary sandwich and still went to see Metallica” later revealed to be simply “There Is A Way” for example, not to mention their cover of Devo’s “whip it” on sydney radio station Triple J Having recently jumped the pond to Los Angeles to record their sophomore album and follow up to 2009’s “Hey Everyone” with legendary producer Ross Robinson, Dananananaykroyd are now back on home soil and facing the final show of their latest UK tour here tonight at the Shipping Forecast. My first thoughts are as to how the tiny stage is going to contain their reported animalism, and the short answer is...it doesn’t. They are barely 30 seconds into opener “Reboot” before John and Calum are stampeding into the crowd trading melodies, frenzied yelps and alternating screams that play out like a playground taunt dashed by tourettes. As a pair, the two share an enjoyably violent charisma, surfing out into the crawl space between the raised hands and basement roof, never afraid to ensnare a few of the front row in their mic cables (who doesn’t love a fight pop rodeo?), and spilling out tour stories of pot noodle theft and blu tack moustaches with a ramble that feels almost unobserved to the point where you feel that maybe you’ve just crashed their house party. They motion the basement to their knees before exploding into “What’s This” and the dissonant assault of “E Numbers”, by which point you notice how well Ryan (who replaced original bassist Laura back in ) and Paul feed off each other, providing a solid backbone in the thick of the music’s schizophrenic changes of pace. “Think And Feel “ referenced by John as “one you kids are gonna love” is as close to a fleeting moment of sanity that we can hope for, before a rolling crescendo gives way to “Infinity Milk”’s signature guitar hook, provoking an ecstatic singalong from the crowd as Ryan sways his Jag around in some demented slow dance. Indeed, the shared guitar work is angular and disjointed yet perfectly executed, falling somewhere between early Biffy Clyro and At The Drive In circa “Relationship Of Command”. “Time Capsule” sees the whole band venture into the fray to a surging half time beat and is arguably the cream of the new crop, whereas fan favourite and latest single “Black Wax” is hugely involving and perhaps the best ambassador of “fight pop” with a chorus that instantly registers and anthemic gang chanting from everyone in the venue. Nearing the end, all convention goes down the cattle grid altogether as David wrenches half of the drum kit into the centre of the floor for “Make A Fist”’s seamless transition into “Song 1 Puzzle”, thrashing amidst an apocalyptic eruption of camera flashes and wails before all chaos subsides for closers “Pink Sabbath” and “Some Dresses”, the latter of which sees the crowd split down the middle and collide in an embrace spurred on by the band who follow suit. Shamefully, I have to concede that my first impressions of Dananananaykroyd on record were not entirely favourable - altogether too raw and discombobulated to make any real sense of. Yet never has a single performance swayed my opinion so sharply as it has with this vibrant lot. It’s a live show that is unrelenting and inventive, whilst never becoming too self indulgent and certainly puts the album into better perspective for any reformed doubter. All in all, Dananananaykroyd are something bold. A cut above the all too predictable strain of Biffy bashers that has become common form of the Scottish alternative scene. If this is fight pop, I’m taping up my fists and heading to the yard.........it’s on

Shagging, goosing, slapping the weasel, whatever you want to kill it, sex is getting weird. Scientists are saying are saying 2011 is the year of experimentation. I know it’s early, but things are only going to get better/worse from here on in. Make no mistake; it’s a fucking jungle out there. You’re going to need to be prepared otherwise you‘ll be up cum creak without a paddle. To give you a feel of what’s out there we interviewed three people off some seedy internet forums on the subject of sex and their sexual experiences in 2011.

The perspective of a slightly creepy 28 year old.

Wisdom from a 23 year old female pansexual.

A warning from a 50 year old man.

How many sexual partners have you been with?

How do you define a pansexual?

Too active.

Today?

It’s someone who is gender blind. Gender and sexuality becomes irrelevant to whether you’re sexually attracted to someone. You just take people for who they really are. It’s about taking a DIY approach to gender and not trying to put everyone in a box.

How so?

In total. Around 60 That’s a lot. How did you manage that?

Do you have any preference between men and women?

Freshers week. I’ve been doing freshers week for about ten years now. It’s almost a rite of passage for a fresher to have slept with me. I keep getting older but freshers stay the same age.

Men seem to think that they somehow own your sexuality because you’ve slept with them. They get angry and jealous when you’re with someone else but they expect you to be fine when they want to shag around.

Do you ever question the morality of that?

Have you noticed any strangeness, sex-wise, in 2011?

It’s important to remember women are not like us. You know in Ireland they used to have bottomless well’s that they would throw troublesome women down? When I was a younger man I once got so fucked and tried to dig such a well outside a bar. The only thing that stopped me was the bouncers. They beat the shit out of me.

I’ve noticed guys are getting crazier. I was with this guy last week; he stopped halfway through sex and said “I’ve had enough of this shit”. He stormed out and slammed the door. He came back in and stole a bottle of gin off my dresser, he looked me right in the eyes and said “I’m going to drink this!”

Any sex tips for our readers for 2011? Getting as much height as possible in the bedroom. Positions like the spider monkey and the jackhammer are really big on the circuit at the minute. It’s important to keep your sexual arsenal up to date.

Do you still maintain an active sex life?

My wife was made redundant last year. She’s had a lot of spare time and has discovered the internet. She’s been going through a sexual reawakening. It was good at first, she was finding new ways to spice it up and for us to be more intimate. It all went to shit when she fell in with the perverts. It’s like she’s Dante, except she’s climbing a mountain of porn, the soft core at the bottom and terrifying perversions at the top. Last night she was asking me to do all sorts but that’s another story. What’s the most disturbing thing that she’s been in to? For months she was really into using food. You know, girls using things that represent a phallic symbol. She kept showing me different food groups. I almost went insane. I used to work at supermarket, a month ago they asked me to restock the cucumber and carrots. I cried for an hour. They fired me last week.

Then he was gone for a long time. I assumed he’d gone home. He came back in to my room around 15 minutes later stinking of oil. When I checked in the morning the fucker had eaten all my meat and potatoes, I think he tried to deep fry the lot in a booze hunger and then ate it half raw off of the work surface. He slept on the floor like a dog for the rest of the night. In the middle of the night he began crying and pounding the floor. When I asked him what was up, he told me to “Shut my damn mouth!”

I’m sorry. That’s very sad.

In the morning I asked if I could walk him the bus station. He said “No. No not at all, I have to leave immediately, and you wouldn’t be able to keep up the pace”. The he ran out the door and then past my window. Screaming the entire time.

Stay away from the internet. And perverts.

Any sex tips for our readers? Men need to stop thinking that drugs and sex is a good combination. You may be able to last forever but being endlessly banged at a party, in a toilet by a wild eyed fiend is less appealing then most men think.

There’s no escape to it now. I don’t know what will be waiting for me when I get home. It could be anything, a strap on aubergine, pleasure ‘eggs’………anything. One more prevision and I’m done for. It will all be over. I’ll be ruined. Any sex tips for our readers?

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PAGES

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Words: Stephen Baxendale Illustration: George McCallum

ALONE

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Words: Stephen Baxendale Illustration: George McCallum

ALONE

MEDIA PACK 2012-13

SINGLE REVIEWS

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Words: Paul Hutchinson, Louis Bransgrove

ALBUM / EP REVIEWS

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Words: Louis Bransgrove, David Lally, Delyth Briggs

MU SIC

SO CIAL

I had this pain in my head. For a while it was just coming from my tooth, but by this point it’d crawled up and down the whole side of my face. I’d had tooth ache before, but this was something different, I was sure of it. There was a constant hot and stabbing pain that kept me from sleeping. Then occasionally the whole side of my head would explode in pain and I’d start clawing at myself and have to writhe about on the floor until it stopped. It felt like there was some mad rat trapped in my head and occasionally it was attempting to escape by burrowing out through my brain and eye. It didn’t help that my flatmates had been having a party going on for what seemed like weeks and that it showed no signs of stopping. It’d started off as the usual “after a night out let’s bring people we don’t know, but have bonded with in the last seven minutes, back to the flat”, but in the morning this collection of leeches had stayed around drinking and then it just merged into a party the next night. Then the next. It was growing by the day like some horrible infection. My home was constantly full of fiends. It would get a little quiet every now and then but then they’d just go on runs to the Bargain Booze and bring back ale and cigs and stimulants and the party would come back with an even greater force. I think their sanity was resting on the idea that if they kept the party going everything would be okay. Like campers desperately trying to keep a fire going to ward off the darkness. I didn’t join in because I was in constant pain and they were starting to scare me. My flatmates stopped acknowledging me as I shuffled around the hallway; I was the ghost at the feast, the pale reminder of mortality and humanity. I’d walked through life like a zombie for weeks. Never sleeping. Constantly gobbling pain killers and swigging hot gin. Locked in my room listening to the terrible noises of the party, people having sex, people talking gibberish and the never ending “tunes”. Every now and

then someone would try my door handle, hoping it wouldn’t be locked and probably looking for somewhere to have sex or for a secret stash of alcohol. The bathroom was briefly unoccupied so I slipped in so I could examine what was going on in my face. I pulled back my cheek. The pain was coming from this big fat molar at the back. The gum around my tooth had gone black and there was some sort of white bubble just above it. I poked at the black gum; it was a pulp of flesh with this frothy white oozing substance around it. There was no feeling from it, my finger went straight into it, old and stale dead blood started falling from it. It tasted like half cooked meat. I scratched at the whitish bubble above the tooth. Yellow pus started slowly crawling out like a lazy maggot out of an apple. There was a smell coming from it too, like raw chicken mixed with off milk. What the hell was going on in my face? I thought to myself. I wasn’t going to stand for this. I poked my finger straight through the froth and pulp of flesh. The pain shot up the side of my face immediately. It was like the rat had snapped and gone crazy and had decided to start tearing me up from the inside out. I couldn’t think; there was just pain and nothing else. I started to punch the side of my head to try and distract myself, I thought about crying or vomiting but i must have just passed out instead because I woke up on the floor. I decided it was time to seek help. I walked across the city to the ‘A and E’. I waited for half an hour and was told that they only did bodies and not mouths. I had to walk across to the other side of the city to the emergency dental hospital. When I got there the place was empty and dirty. There were only two staff, a fat and unpleasant woman and a bald dentist who claimed that

his name was “Stein.” Stein took a look at my mouth. He began scraping at the flesh around my tooth, it was coming off in thin strips like cured meat. “You don’t feel that do you?” “No” I tried to say. But Stein had his fingers in my mouth so I could only talk in that ‘mid blowjob’ way of talking were people shout in vowels. “That’s because this is necrosis, soldier. This is dead rotting flesh.” “Is that good or bad?” “Does it sound good?” Stein said. “I suppose not.” “You need an X-Ray, soldier.”

The fat and unpleasant woman gave me an injection and told me to tell her when the gum and tooth felt numb. I could still feel the rat mooching about my head. She gave me another injection, then another two. I could still feel it. The entire side of my face was numb and unresponsive but I could still feel the damn tooth throbbing. My face was hanging slack off my bones like a rubber mask. She gave me one more injection, she said that this was the last one she could give me and if it didn’t work I’d have to book an appointment and go to the dental surgery. The injection didn’t work, I could still feel the tooth, the injection just made my face slacker and even more unresponsive, but I was not going to spend another night with the rat, so I lied and said it was numb.

“There was no feeling from it, my finger went straight into it, old and stale dead blood started falling from it. It tasted like half cooked meat. I scratched at the whitish bubble above the tooth. Yellow pus started slowly crawling out like a lazy maggot out of an apple.”

Stein fishhooked my cheek. I could feel him clumsily circling my tooth with his pliers. I began to shake with a crazy kind of fear. I dug my fingers into the chair. The waiting was unbearable. I knew at any second this fucker was going to start attacking my head and I’d feel every bit of it. He locked his pliers down on my tooth, than snapped it to the side. Before I knew what I was doing, this scream was coming from my throat and my hands were hitting at him.

black tooth in his pliers. The hole in my face was bleeding a lot so the fat and unpleasant woman gave me a wad of wool to bite down on.

“You said you were numb!” Said the fat and unpleasant woman. I thought I would have been able to take it. Perhaps I’d been too optimistic in presuming dental science was more advanced than some mad bastard pulling at my skull with pliers. I wanted the tooth out, but I couldn’t take any more of that. I got up to leave. “We can’t have that soldier, that tooth is half out, if it gets infected it’d be our fault.”

I wanted to call him a prick but I didn’t have the strength. I got up and walked back to the flat in the rain. I was so weak I was walking in slow motion. Cars were slowing down to look at me. They couldn’t understand why somebody was taking long and slow exaggerated steps through the rain without any coat or jumper. I tried to tell them I was okay by giving them a smile, but half my face was numbed and my mouth was full of blood and wool. They sped up after that.

“No. Honestly. I feel fine now. Thank you very much.” I said with half my face, the other side drooling and bleeding, but the fat and unpleasant woman started pinning me down. “There you go luv.” She said “Just one more pull.”

When I came back to the flat the party was still going on, obviously. I doubted it would ever end. As time went on the energy was more intense, more edgy. People were getting tired and unpredictable. The music was loud and electronic. People were jumping and shouting and banging. It was like some sort of post-apocalyptic future, except it wasn’t in the future, it was in my flat and I needed some respite and sanctuary.

Then stein was fishhooking me again. It was too much pain, my brain would snap before the tooth did. I was going to be driven insane and these fuckers were going to get away with it. I tried to get up but the fat and unpleasant woman was on me and she had the strength of a bastard. “Here we go soldier.” Stein was saying as he yanked my tooth left and right “Almost out now.” Water was falling from my eyes and I was covered in sweat, I tried to make little screams but they sounded more like sobs. I was hoping I’d black out. Then there was a pop and it felt like someone had punched me. I saw Stein holding the mouldy and

“Here you go soldier.” Stein said handing me a pack of blue pills “These are from my personal stash, take one a day, they’ll keep you from feeling a thing until you’re healed.”

I sat in my room swigging gin and tounging the new hole in my face. People were rattling my door handle. My nerves were all in shock. I kept shaking. I felt fragile and schizophrenic. I wasn’t sure what was real anymore. The party outside my door sounded depraved. Intense crazed chatter. Manic laughter. Senseless singing. They’d been drinking for too long. Their brains had lost all rationality and purpose. They were dangerous. I was so tired and beaten, I felt terrified being in their presence. I felt like I was trapped in a den of foxes. Only a matter of

EATS EVERYTHING EP (DIRTYBIRD RECORDS)

EVERYTHING GOES MY WAY (BECAUSE MUSIC)

METRONOMY

CASS MCCOMBS HUMOR RISK (2011, DOMINO)

ENOUGH TH UNDER (2011, UNIVERSAL REPUBLIC)

Pete Tong hit the nail on the head calling ‘The Size’ from Eats Everything his essential track of September. The booty bass, booty tech masterpiece comes off his first release on Dirtybird, following in the footsteps of house maestro Julio Bashmore. It’s a great continuation of hands across the ocean linking Bristol with Claude Von Stroke’s imprint based in San Francisco. It’s a double A-Side EP with ‘Whatever Whenever’ being another big feature. As you would expect from a Dirtybird release, the production is top notch, something Justin Martin would be proud of. Giving the label a fresh new direction with support coming from Joy Orbison, this bass-filled jacking house infusion is set to smash dance floors for the coming months. It’s exhilarating to see producers crossing over bass with house, yet exciting times for lovers of both styles.

If ever there were a compilation album released called ‘Hotel Lobby Classics’, then this song would most definitely feature. ‘Everything Goes My Way’, the newest single from Metronomy’s critically acclaimed third album The English Riviera, is a delicate assemblage of latinoesque rhythms and dulcet instrumental tones. Frontman Joseph Mount and guest singer Roxanne Clifford eminently handle vocals, meandering through the song like the lazy river at your local water park (parents beware; swimming pools are a prime location for paedophiles). With Metronomy finally earning the praise they deserve, new single ‘Everything Goes My Way’ is a stellar example of why they’ve given music fans worldwide a stonkin’ hard on.

As someone who has been a fan of Cass McCombs for many years, I awaited his new album with much anticipation. In fact, scratch that; it was more like full-on, salivating, hysteria. For those unaware of McCombs’ musical genius, let me give you a brief overview; an American singer-songwriter, he is quite unlike the stereotypical confessional and self-obsessed tits who grace most of the radio airwaves. He instead describes the lives and emotions of those around him, with love rather than judgement, and wit rather than despair, all wrapped up in wellcrafted and generous songs. Described as “unobtrusively brilliant” by John Peel, or the more punchy “fucking boss” by my usual musical dealer, for a long time he has been a secret pleasure I shared only with my closest friends.

When it was first announced James Blake’s potential collaboration with Bon Iver had many people spraying in their pants. The resulting track is featured on Blake’s new EP Enough Thunder. It serves as the centerpiece of the EP and sort of sums it up, in that, it’s not necessarily bad but definitely doesn’t illicit a sexual response.

PARADIS

Did I big him up too much? Thankfully the little man from California did not leave me red-faced. The moment opening track ‘Love Thine Enemy’ began, a humongous grin replaced the nervous grimace I had across my face. Roaring straight into a rhythmic tempo, a deep riff and an infectious melody, here was the promise of an album quite different to its predecessor. McCombs is known to be shy in person and incredibly mistrustful of the music industry, and this was made more apparent in the rather sparse and despairing album Wit’s End. Luckily for us, he has been extremely forth giving in his song-writing this time. Highlights include ‘The Same Thing’, ‘Robin Egg Blue’ and ‘Mystery Mail’, all boasting a swift and joyous beat, a base-line to get the most immobile of limbs rocking and melodies to occupy your mind for days on end. For all the die-hard Cass McCombs fans, or even those who just have one or two of his other albums, this is a return to the music we all know and love (we’ll just discount Wit’s End for now). If this is the first time you’ve ever come across his name, then all I can do is slap you silly and implore that you listen to this album and submerge yourself in auditory nirvana. Do it.

MIGUEL CAMPBELL

MOSCA BAX (NUMBERS)

“LA BALLADE DE JIM” (BEATS IN SPACE)

If you haven’t heard this elegant and near perfect track over the past few months, you must have been living under a rock. It’s become a bit of an anthem of late, smashing all the big clubs in Ibiza and further afield. The recipe for this Hot Creations release is quite simple; the key ingredients are a combination of a quality vocal hook and pleasing bassline; simple, but devastatingly effective. One of the most talked about summer time tunes, eventually getting its release off Jamie Jones and Lee Foss’s label in the early autumn, it even found itself at number one on Beatport’s top 10; a real rarity for a deep house track. It’s no surprise therefore, that Miguel found his way to Liverpool booked by new house night, &Ting. This track is so good that it’s in danger of becoming over played and most DJ’s worth their salt are going to give it a rest.

Definitely one of the best tracks I have stumbled across in the past month, there’s no messing about with this number as it thumps in from the start. It takes me back to my days when garage was good in the mid 90’s; a time when the idea of speed garage, bass and dubstep was a brown nut in a babies nappy. Laced with skippy high hats, precision drum fills, and a vocal loop that will be spinning round your head until the end of the track, Bax is ticking all the boxes. Around the minute mark the main bassline kicks in, making you scrunch up your face and stare at your clubbing partner with approval. I like to call this the fuck off factor. Dare I use the word but this is a genre defining track and you will find that most garage, house, bass and dubstep heads will dig this.

For fans of Tim Sweeney and his colossal New York radio show, the wait for Beats in Space 001 is now over… And yes, it was always going to be good. Parisian duo aka Simon Meny and Pierre Rousseau sent the two tracks over to Tim in hope of some airplay. Surprisingly enough they ended up being the first BIS release, a debut for both band and label. Beautifully crafted together with delicate and subtle undertones, sexy French vocals pushed forward by dreamy keys, the tiny bass sounds slide on top effortlessly making this a really amazing deep house track. With DJ Tim Sweeny’s show approaching 12 years of age, there couldn’t have been a better release for the mighty Beats in Space. Out on vinyl and digital release.

SOMETHING SPECIAL (HOT CREATIONS)

time until they tore me to pieces. I knew I’d need to defend myself. I crept through the hallway, past the living room, and then slipped into the kitchen. Two people I’d never met before were fornicating. They were making terrible noises. Like some sort of violent exorcism. They paid no attention to me, so I went over to the drawers and picked out the largest kitchen knife I could find. I ran back to my room. I used some boxes of books to form a barricade behind my door.

James Blake is almost always mentioned alongside dubstep (or postdubstep if you are pretentious/a pretentious arsehole) but this genre has been almost completely neglected from Enough Thunder. This is most prevalent in his cover of Joni Mitchell’s ‘Case of You’ which is a pleasant enough song but in reality sounds like something your mum would listen to. Perhaps this is where Blake’s problem lies: it would seem he is trying to move away from the dubstep tag, some now see as a dirty word, yet without his trademark bass he has become just another singer-songwriter.

TEETH

WHATEVER (2011, MOSHI MOSHI) If you were planning a night at home in your pyjamas reading a Jane Austin novel, then TEETH probably isn’t your ideal soundtrack, try Dido. TEETH are a 3 piece from London and they start their album stating that they don’t care and good luck to them because caring is boring. And whatever can be said about TEETH’s debut album it certainly is not boring.

YACHT

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Words: Stephen Baxendale Illustration: George McCallum

AN EXCERPT FROM A NOVEL IN PROGRESS

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ZEE

Words: Orla Foster Photography: Kurt Hentschlager, 2008, image courtesy of the artist

4/10

MGMT

The real standout tracks are the singles ‘Flowers’ and ‘See Spaces’ where the frantic synth and drum beat are met by subtle vocals, which makes the songs sound otherworldly. If you are planning to party, dance and perform lude sex acts, then TEETH may well be your soundtrack, and because we are so nice to you here at Waxxx, we have booked them for our next houseparty so you can do all of the things mentioned above.

This 11-track cluster of industrial swirls, cosmic whirls and haunting vocals is an anthology of atmospheric aural pleasure. At only one minute and four seconds long, opening track ‘Swords’ more than sets the vibe for the rest of the album. A cascade of dark electronic sounds and the lustrous tone of Zola’s chilling voice create a soundscape of ominous beauty and brilliance. As the album unfolds, tracks such as ‘Vessel’ and ‘In Your Nature’ lend to the ear a tranquil progression of elegant vocal melodies, complimented by a humble mix of subdued synth patterns and perfectly programmed drum rhythms. While the one criticism of the album might be that it lacks variation at times, the album’s unwavering sound allows each track to flow from one to the other with ease, making it a very easy album to whack on, play from the start and lay back and think of England; but a real ball ache of an album to try and pick out a particular highlight. Nonetheless, Conatus displays real aptitude and maturity for someone only 22 years young.

DYSTOPIA (THE EARTH IS ON FIRE) (DFA RECORDS)

Towards the tail end, ‘Not Long Now’ is a return to familiar territory but it appears to be too little too late. The Bon Iver collaboration promised much but delivers little and I would suggest that Blake should spend less time trying to be Bon Iver and more time being James Blake.

Lazy comparisons to crystal castles are rife, but these are unjust, being an electronic act with female vocals does not make you crystal castles. Plus TEETH benefit from lead singer Veronika So being adorable where Alice Glass is just terrifying.

ZOLA JESUS

Young Americans Challenging High Technology (Yacht), Aka Jona Bechtolt, is one of them guys to be jealous of. He lays down vocals, guitar, drums, synth and programming on all tracks... Nothing short of genius. Hailing from the DFA stable, this release doesn’t need the help of B-side remixes to make it shine (although the deed has been expertly handled by Emperor Machine.) The original is rooted in retro sounds and chugs along to the sweet melody that is Claire L Evans on vocal. “The Earth is on fire, we don’t have no daughter, let the mother fucker burn”. You would assume these are the lyrics from some heavy metal track. Think again. Take a double measure of 80’s pop, add a slice of electro, a dash of quirkiness, shake, and you have Dystopia.

A lot of Blake’s earlier fans that were impressed by his first three EPs, Bells Sketch, CMYK and Klavierwerke, will be disappointed with the slow pace of his new EP. That being said, some credit must be given for trying something different as there is nothing worse than artists churning out the same stuff for years on end (The Strokes anyone), but sadly it just lacks a bit of thunder.

First song ‘Confusion’ sounds a bit like Siouxsie and the Banshees playing in space, which can surely only be a good thing. TEETH describe themselves as electronic punk, and they bring together these two elements to make something that is sometimes ramshackle but always entertaining, but then again, isn’t that the very essence of punk?

8.5/10

CONATUS (2011, SCARED BONES RECORDS)

Stein’s pills began to kick in. The walls felt like they were expanding and the streetlight coming through the window began to take on purple and green hues. The noise from the party sounded far away. I lay there on my mattress with the gin and the knife and I could feel myself falling into a delirium. The shadows in the corners of my room began to move and I thought someone might be in the room with me, I shouted out “Is anyone there?”, but no one answered. I was quite obviously alone.

Words: Stephen Baxendale Illustration: George McCallum

JAMES BLAKE

Has Florence Welch just discovered Ketamine and spent a night in the desert, armed only with a synthesizer, drum machine and some recording equipment? No. Zola Jesus has just released a new album. Conatus is the third full-length release from Russian American singer/ songwriter Zola Jesus; real name Nika Roza Danilova.

I sat on my mattress swigging gin every time I had a paranoid thought. I was hammered after fifteen minutes. Then I took two of steins pills. At the time, there was no doubt in my mind that I’d need to defend myself. I tried to think of a strategy. When they came for me, their debauchery would have reached such heights that they had devolved into animals. They’d probably break down the door and come running at me naked and on all fours, screaming and slobbering, ready to rape then torture me just to get a kick, anything to keep the party going. I could try and stab my way out, but I was weak from the dental surgery, it’s likely I’d just end up angering them and making it worse for myself. The best I could hope for was to probably turn the knife on myself. When they broke down the door I could begin wildly stabbing at my own gut and start shouting “You’ll never get me now you bastards!”

AN EXCERPT FROM A NOVEL IN PROGRESS

/ P. 16 - 17 /

CASIOKIDS

You’re at the funfair, lost in the hall of mirrors, tripping balls on acid. Or are you listening to the latest release from Moshi Moshi’s Norwegian synthpop ensemble Casiokids? I’m sure the difference is minimal. ‘Det Haster!’ is a melting pot of punchy, hypnotic grooves, which grabs you by the balls, with no intentions of letting go. Drawing comparisons to hotly tipped British outfit Elephant (Memphis Industries), Casiokids have conjured up a musical storm that is sure to wet your appetite. So lay the table, heat the plates and prepare to tuck into a slice of Norway’s finest. Bon Appétit!

DET HASTER! (MOSHI MOSHI RECORDS)

He kept calling me soldier. It was horrible. He went outside and pushed a button and came back with a black and white photo. He said something about me having a huge infection, that I’d lost a lot of mass from my skull and that the tooth needed to be removed. I think I said I didn’t care, but I can’t really remember because the rat was at it again and I couldn’t concentrate on anything.

8/10

LATE NIGHT TALES (2011, LATE NIGHT STORIES) As someone who is generally NOT a fan of compilation/greatest hits albums, which now days are seemingly more than often released in a cold attempt by a record label or publisher to usurp the naïve age of consumerism, rather than to ‘educate’ those commonly known as ‘fans’; I for one, am certainly NOT a fan of THIS. If MGMT hadn’t already failed us enough with their lackluster 2010 release Congratulations, which universally we can all agree sounded like the soundtrack to a film about nothing, then this newest installment from the Late Night Tales series does little to inspire. Sure, the album contains some of music’s finest such as The Velvet Underground and Julian Cope; but why do we need to be reminded of their brilliance in the form of a money grabbing mix tape, curated by two university graduates who like dicking about with synthesizers and occasionally ripping off Pink Floyd? We don’t, is your answer. Now don’t get me wrong here. I’m not making an uninformed, cynical criticism of either the musicians or selected tracks; my problem is with the nature of this album’s existence. The Late Night Tales series is a chronicle of soundtracks put together by a variety of artists (in this case MGMT), supposedly designed to create the ‘ultimate late night mix’. Who else was just sick in their lap? After a long, drunken or perhaps otherwise intoxicated night out, where the aural pleasantries have been dictated from the safety of a DJ booth, who wants to come home to a fucking playlist? Half the fun of a night out is getting home, piling 20 people around a laptop, tucking into a kebab and deliberating over what’s next on the Spotify play queue is it not?

With an impressive 3 full-length studio albums in as many years already under her belt, all I can say is; if you haven’t already listened to Zola Jesus, do your ears a favour and give this a listen.

While the album earns itself a few brownie points based on the fact that yes, there are a few decent tunes to be had, I still conclude there is absolutely no need for his album! I’ll pick my own songs thanks. Verdict? Not ‘avin it.

8/10

2/10

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FOREIGN FESTIVAL REVIEWS: PRIMAVERA / HIDEOUT / OPEN’ER

A RT

SO CIAL

PRIMAVERA

PARC DEL FORUM, BARCELONA 26TH - 28TH MAY 2011

I had stopped wearing a belt to work, the tie was long gone and my trousers had split down one side. I had stapled the trouser leg back together, but occasionally a few of the staples would fall out and my leg would become exposed, I had to carry around the stapler with me at all times so as I went about my day I could repair the seam if necessary. I was working at a ‘bargain department store’ which was situated on the edge of Liverpool’s most deprived slum. I had planned to work there for just a couple of weeks, but by this point I’d been there for two years. I had no doubt in my mind that it was the worst job in the world, but I had stuck with it because the managers didn’t notice if I came in half asleep and it was only a ten minute walk away from my flat. I came onto the shop floor and immediately the displays were making me feel nauseous. There were rows of shiny leather jackets. Piles of microwaves that were probably faulty. Heaps of every kind of useless tat and unnecessary gadget. I looked around and I saw my supervisor’s head bobbing over the displays. I hated that man’s head. It was the most god awful thing I had

ever seen. It was a terrible and ugly head, full of strange angles and uneven surfaces. It looked more like a giant elbow with a face drawn on it than an actual human head. My daily tasks were putting stock out on the shop floor and working the till. I had to carry out all my jobs while my supervisors and managers spat abuse and ignorance at me. They paid me minimum wage and even then my pay slip was always a third short of what I was owed. We never got to finish on time and we were always expected to come in early. The air was thick with dust and odd smells because there was no money for real cleaners. There was no money for real anything actually. The company was on a financial knife edge. One bad day and the whole company could go under. Terrible cover versions of half popular songs were played constantly on a loop, after a few hours it would get to the point were it all blurred together and the only sound you could actually hear was that of your brain cells committing suicide. Most of my co workers were sexual deviants and thugs, the ones who weren’t were rambling idiots who would talk to me about any inane thing that came into their minds, they would come over to me ranting and raving about nothing at all, after ten minutes of this I would have to start jabbing a

He walked off, pumping his arms, turning around once to look me in the eyes and make that ‘snip snip’ motion with his fingers.

“Look.” I said “I’m not going to be able to get the back room cleared, I’ve told you this before, it’s not physically possible.”

I made a start on the back room but I knew it was impossible. Christ, he must have known it was impossible, he was cruel but not stupid. If he wants me to clear the back room I’ll clear it, I thought. I began taking the fresh stock straight down to the incinerator, I know it was criminal and irresponsible, but I just didn’t care. I still don’t. I put a few things out on the stock floor for show, but most of the fresh stock was going straight to the incinerator and being burned up. By nine o’clock I had flamed about five thousand pounds worth of stock... but still the back room was nowhere near clear.

“Oh I see how it is.” My supervisor said, leaning his head towards me. “You like being lazy. Well we’ll see how much you like being lazy when I mess with your money. Maybe I’ll cut your hours right back. Cut cut. Snip snip! See how you like being lazy when I’ve got your money.” He made a little ‘snip snip’ motion in the air with his fingers. I knew from experience that he meant this threat. The man was a sadist. I felt like murdering him. I know I could have gone through with it too, I would have jumped up and bit his neck, got my molars deep into his wind pipe and chewed like a mad weasel. I decided against this. Instead I just imagined apes gang banging his corpse until I felt calm enough to speak. “I’ll see what I can do.” I said.

The shop opened its doors and almost immediately there were deranged customers limping and shuffling towards the till bank. I could see their little brains twitching as they tried to think up new ways to fuck me around. The only staff I had to help me was a man called Munaf, and Munaf was useless. Literally. He was a man without use. Thinking about it, he was the most disgusting man I had ever known.

First impressions however, were a little sceptical. Queuing up for press passes on the Wednesday took the piss, however, this was NOTHING compared to trying to get into Poble Espanyol to see Caribou and Echo and the Bunnymen on Wednesday night. This was down to either Primavera underestimating the amount of people who would turn up, or... us being fucking totally un-organised and turning up an hour before the start of the show. Probably both. Then, there was the implementation of a new horrendous credit card system used to buy booze. Queuing and frustration hit the English early on the first day. Closed bars, gigantic lines and all your money for booze on a card which didn’t work eventually led the organisers to sensibly revert to cashbars site-wide and with this the mood palpably improved.

My supervisor spotted me and began walking over. He had an inefficient way of walking which really pissed me off. He took lots of quick yet short steps and pumped his arms about in an exaggerated manner. The man was a fool. With that sort of head you can’t afford to take liberties with your walk.

Anti-government protests had been present throughout Spain in the weeks around Primavera. Frustration with budget cuts and unemployment were aired publicly as political unrest spread throughout Spanish towns and cities. On the morning of Friday 27th May, when, in what was supposed to be a clean-up operation of Plaça de Catalunya, a clash with police sent 99 people to hospital. Political graffiti and signs were everywhere throughout the festival and banners proudly reading ‘Spanish Revolution: Sing Along with the Common People’ were common place the following day thanks to Jarvis Cocker’s dedication of “Common People” to the protesters.

When he finally got over to me he pointed a finger at my chest and said “I don’t want to hear any of your usual shit today. I need you on the tills and then when it’s quiet you clear that back room. Understood?” Behind the tills on our floor was a stock room that was about the same dimensions as a bus. Everyday it was filled with crates of brand new stock. I was expected to unpack all this stock, take it out to the shop

“it was his head that sent me over the edge. That fucking head of his. I could have put up with all the misery if it wasn’t for his head. I could feel myself dying every time I saw it. I was being murdered with a head and nobody even cared.” floor and then take the packing materials down two flights of stairs to an incinerator.

As a first time visitor to Barcelona’s Primavera festival and in fact Barcelona itself, I was interested to see how it differed to other foreign festivals and even our own festivals back in the UK. Traditionally, Primavera has stood out from the crowd due to its forward thinking line-ups, excellent organisation and smooth management. Such traits have led it to quickly become the first choice festival for music lovers opposed to Barcelona’s secondary offering of Benicassim - a place where glow paint and low-cut vest wearing cockney pricks pollute the air declaring their sex is on fire.

pen into my thigh just to keep myself sane. Despite all that, it was his head that sent me over the edge. That fucking head of his. I could have put up with all the misery if it wasn’t for his head. I could feel myself dying every time I saw it. I was being murdered with a head and nobody even cared.

Just standing next to Munaf you could feel yourself being dragged down into madness and poverty. He was as low and pathetic as a man could possibly be without actually being dead. He was an alcoholic and a lunatic. All the ale he drank had made his brain so dysfunctional that the only word he was capable of saying was “Lovely.” You had to gauge his real meaning by the tone he said it in. Becoming like Munaf was my greatest fear. I’m told he had moved to the city to be a writer, but that ‘discount department store’ had got hold of him. It had melted his brain and shit on his soul. He had accidentally been working there for twenty years by this point. I would like to be able to say he looked bad for his age, but in all honesty the man barely looked human any more. Time and extreme drinking had flattened his head to the point were it looked like a giant hamburger. He was an ugly bastard but he wore a giant regal moustache, which really didn’t help at all, it made matters worse if anything. He had four or six hairs which he combed across his head into an abomination of a comb over. His stomach was bloated and heavy and he had to tie a belt around it just to keep it in place.

ZEE AT FACT I pitied Munaf, but I didn’t hate him. I hated the other staff, but I suppose they hated me too. We were all hateful people. You had to have a heart full of hate to work in a place like that. I felt like everyday there was an unspoken competition for who could be the ‘lowest fucker of the shift’. Munaf usually won. All day the customers besieged me and Munaf. I lied to them. Tricked them. Pleaded with them. Anything to get them to leave me alone. I couldn’t stand them. The customers were like a cross section of mental illnesses. In their numbers they possessed every sort of depravity. Every kind of stupidity. Every kind of perversion. There were manic ones, paranoid ones, delusional ones. Liars. Thieves. Almost certainly some murderers. Their ugliness knew no bounds. It seemed unreasonable to me that people should allow themselves to be so ugly. Most of them were barely human. Once, I thought I saw one with hooves instead of hands and one with a snout instead of a nose, but it had been a long shift and hallucinations had become common place. We’d been doing the tills for five hours straight and I was starting to crack up, I looked over at Munaf to see if he was surviving. He turned to me with crazy eyes and rasped the word “Lovely.”.

As the afternoon went on the customers wore me down. I kept asking my supervisor for a break but he kept saying “Not now! These customers will tear us to shreds if we stop for even a second!” I kept glazing over my eyes and going into fantasy worlds. I imagined tearing down the store with my bare hands. I imagined forcing my supervisor into the incinerator. I imagined being rich. I imagined not being such a fuckup.

shit and I just laughed. I laughed for a long time. This is what two years in retail can do to your mind. I came back upstairs and walked into the staff room, stapling my trousers back together as I sat down. I knew I needed to eat, but I felt too low to do anything. I thought today was going to be the day I won the unspoken ‘lowest fucker of the shift award’. Until I saw Munaf.

I’d been on shift for nine hours and I had not sat down or ate a single calorie. The customers gave us a brief respite so I leant myself against a wall for a couple of seconds. My supervisor saw me from across the floor and the sight of someone relaxing sent him into a fit of rage. He was making wild ‘snip snip’ motions with his hands at me. I went in the back and began bagging up the most expensive stock I could get my hands on. Armfuls of leather jackets, mini plasma screen TV’s and a bag of mobile phones. I took it all down to the incinerator. I was throwing the stock in the incinerator, beating on it with a broom and imagining it was my supervisors head. I thought of all the stock losses, all the jobs I was putting in danger, I thought of being caught, I thought of all the Vietnamese children in factories that had slaved to make this

He was using a fork to eat a tin of vindaloo curry sauce. I knew he hated the taste of it but it must have been the only thing he could find. His skin had gone swollen and purple from the spices. He was covered in sweat and fat beads of it were falling off his head and into the tin he was eating from. He started making a little choking sound and I think tears began mixing with the dripping sweat. He looked up from the tin and quietly coughed the word “Lovely.”. “You sinister bastard.” I said “Won’t you ever let me win? ”

If you’re finding your state of mind a little addled lately, then FACT’s new exhibition could be a good place to wipe it down and start over. Taking place as part of AND Festival, ZEE is the work of Kurt Hentschläger, an artist who has been working with holographic and video technology since the early eighties. With this work he seeks to break down the visual landscape by manipulating the boundaries of sensory perception. The result is a mind-altering experience designed to promote a sense of tabula rasa (Latin for blank state) and harness a more ephemeral state. Visitors will find themselves fully immersed in a dense fog, causing them to become disorientated and unable to distinguish surfaces or walls. As pulses of light are beamed through the haze, vibrant kinetic structures will break through the poor visibility, forming a wild array of shapes and patterns. As a result, the light will stamp itself onto each visitor’s brain, creating psychedelic structures and altering all perception of time and space. With no fixed narrative, and the visual environment constantly in flux, the light interference brings visitors into a state of synaesthesia, blurring the distinctions between sound, visuals and the physical world. In effect, you will witness the exhibition in your own mind rather than in reality. It’s a kaleidoscope of your brain’s own making. Zee at Fact opens 29th September and continues until 28th November.

The line-up meant there would be many clashes throughout the festival and the first was on Thursday when forced to decide between Caribou and Interpol. Opting for the latter, we went for a crazed sing-a-long as Interpol treated the crowd to a lot of early material from their first and second albums. Although the sound wasn’t great, it was nowhere near as bad as Paul Banks’ newly sported mullet! Carlos D was certainly missed and as newer material began to surface interest seemed to wane. The next decision: Grinderman or The Walkmen? Despite looking extremely dull, The Walkmen smashed the Pitchfork Stage with songs from their new album Lisbon. When the opening chords of fan favourite ‘The Rat’ broke out, The Walkmen tipped the crowd over the edge and did more than enough to challenge the growls of Nick Cave’s Grinderman from a nearby stage.

PULP! PULP! PULP!

Having wanted to see pulp ever since their infamous glastonbury performance I positioned myself centrally, had a few dabs, a sip of cider and waited to be blasted down memory lane The Flaming Lips entered the main stage at around 2.15am and everyone seemed well oiled up! “The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song”, “Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots Pt. 1” and finally ending with “Do You Realize?” made it the perfect pick me up to carry on through to kicking-out time! Wayne’s arsenal of confetti cannons, space cannons, balloons, streamers and psychedelic light show and video projections was complete sunshine for the soul! Next up on the ATP stage were Factory Floor. Their machine rock was ultra-impressive but I can’t help feeling they would be best suited to an intimate environment in order to truly feel their full effect. That left Greg Gillis, AKA Girl Talk, to close out Thursday on the Llevant stage. The set started at 5am and everyone who still had a little left in them was there!!! The appeal of Girl Talk is; if you like dancing and having fun, stage dancers and a constant hail of balloons and toilet rolls - you’re going to have a good time. Friday brought us The National who played to a massive crowd at the Llevant stage. Highlights included ‘Mistaken for strangers’, ‘Afraid of everyone’, ‘Mr November’ amongst many others. They were on top form and it’s good to see them getting the reception they deserve. Deerhunter also played the Llevant stage, which is located as far away as possible from every other stage in the festival. Although inconvenient, the cool sea breeze made it the perfect setting for Deerhunter’s dreamy guitars. *PULP PULP PULP. Having wanted to see Pulp ever since their infamous Glastonbury performance I positioned myself centrally, had a few dabs, a sip of cider and waited to be blasted down memory lane. Jarvis Cocker was on blinding form as his ever so distinguishable silhouette endlessly to’d and fro’d throughout. Jarvis was up to all sorts during a set list jammed with songs from glory-era albums His and Hers and Different Class whilst the rest of the band frantically tried to keep up. ‘Disco 2000’, ‘Do you remember the first time?’ the promiscuous ‘Pencil Skirt’ and finally ending with ‘Common People’ ensured it was a highlight for all who witnessed the comeback. Highlights from the final night included Odd Future and Caspa. The amount of fuss around Odd Future meant we had to go and check them out; it was amazing to see the passion of their fans which eventually caused an unprecedented stage invasion. Fully embracing this, Tyler the creator, was encouraging fans to defy security guards and mount the Pitchfork Stage at the end of their set prompting chants of ‘Wolf Gang’. Caspa was the last throw of the dice for us and certainly for one member of our gang! Living up to the Scouse reputation we pinched a bottle of vodka from Odd Futures’ rider and got on our pins to see Caspa at the Llevant stage (yes the fucking stage on the other side of the festival). Once we got there one member of the group got on his high horse and drank near enough the whole bottle of vodka before eventually passing out. We then had to carry the casualty to the festival entrance and swill him with water. However, there was still no life. It was only when a group sing-a-long of ‘I’ve got a golden ticket’ from Willy Wonka broke out did we manage to get him on his feet and back home to end the festival happily ever after.

Words: Michael Pickard, Joshua Burke, Lorne Ashley Photography: Michael McCormack


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