George Clinton

Live Review for the Skinny

george clinton - the arches - sunday 4/11 - (*****)

Before the star takes the stage, The Arches crowd is treated to a support band like no other: The Funk Brothers boast that they have played on more chart-topping singles than the Beatles, Beach Boys, Stones and Elvis put together, and we get some of them tonight. Indeed, there Ain't Nothing Like The Real Thing, but Marvin Gaye is long-dead so this is the realest we'll ever get, and to hear that, along with Motown classics What's Going On, Uptight and My Girl from some of the original band is a real pleasure. With a rapturous throng demanding "we want the funk, give up the funk!", 66 year-old George Clinton finally took the stage sporting an explosive multi-coloured hair-do and a face bursting with croaky roars and commands. Clinton's call-and-response compering was followed with a religious fervour, while the band launched through extended guitar-heavy funk jams with snatches of recognisable motifs dotted throughout. Live funk is always liable to complaints of indulgency, but vamping a groove for long stretches is key to the style of a funk show, and it's allowed when just five seconds of a descending bassline (Flashlight) makes dancers wither at the knees. I've seen James Brown and Prince perform different kinds of funk: but George Clinton's P-funk is the most exuberant of them all, and he drives a ferocious funk party like no other.

...

Apologies for my tardiness in updating. I've been hard at work reviewing albums and singles, interviewing bands, writing features... y'know, all the tough stuff music writers have to do. It'll all be published soon and I'll put it all up here ASAP.

On Sunday I was at the Bongo Club interviewing a local band called Chutes. They were supporting Vampire Weekend, who're a big new name in blogland at the moment, mostly because it seems white indie-boys have never heard afrobeat before. Why does it take an indie-rock band before anyone talks about afrobeat? It's almost as if it's a new style - mibbe afrobeat rhythms under indie-pop guitars IS a new style, but it wasn't one that convinced me on Sunday. I'd rather listen to Osibisa. Or Paul Simon. Anyway, at least Sasha Frere-Jones will be happy.

One of the features I've written tonight is for a new Glasgow band called Glasvegas. They're fantastic - click on the link and listen for yourself. Seriously, I've got pretty excited about this lot. They won't remain the best unsigned band in Britain for long. I'll post the Q&A up here ASAP, and the fully-prosed feature as soon as I can.

Finally, I want to publicly declare that Roxy Music's "If There Is Something" is the greatest song ever written (after 1:38 anyway). Either that or "Send His Love To Me", by PJ Harvey. I've been warbling them both at the top of my lungs for at least a week.

Caribou and Frightened Rabbit

Single reviews for The Skinny

frightened rabbit – be less rude (****)

The stand-out track from Frightened Rabbit’s promising debut album Sing The Greys, Be Less Rude is a perfect slice of unpretentious indie-pop that packs just enough verve and attitude to elevate it from the daily guitar-based grind. Riding on a plaintive harmonica, singer Scott makes a plea for politeness and perspective - “you sit on your high-horse and you’re spouting high-horse shite” - as drums crash right on cue. It’s anthemic and bouncy, without getting too big for its modest subject matter or flying away skyward. It’s that harmonica that weighs it down, imbuing a humble charm amidst building anger.

caribou - she's the one (***)

Caribou's Andorra is a capital N-shaped record, peaking with its first and last tracks and drifting down in-between. She's The One uses stuttering backing vocals as a beat, suffused within uber-romantic dream-pop and falsetto harmonies. It's really more than romantic - it's about infatuation, having an obsessive interest in a person despite the advice you're given ("you'll never see just how perfect she could be"). Lightweight but faintly eerie, it's most helpful to know that She's The One is Andorra's fourth track out of nine.

Confusion: Bernard Sumner

Book Review for The Skinny

confusion: bernard sumner, by david nolan (****)

Bernard Sumner has never been the most media-friendly of musicians, which means it’s easy to forget just how important he has been to the last 30 years of music. David Nolan’s new biography on the Joy Division guitarist who went on to lead New Order reminds you of his impact: from Love Will Tear Us Apart to Blue Monday and everything in-between and after, indie-rock would look very different without Sumner’s input. He has input into Confusion too: although it’s not an authorised biography, Sumner occasionally interjects to clarify or correct what former acquaintances have to say about him - “Sumner: That’s just not true. Never happened.” That makes for an interesting collage of different viewpoints where the reader wonders where the truth really lies. It also provides as much of an insight into Sumner’s personality, through his sharp rebukes and explanations, as has ever been seen. With Nolan’s in-depth research and casual, almost conversational prose, and Confusion’s impressively up-to-date conclusion, it makes for as comprehensive and readable a biography of the man as any post-punk or indie-dance fan could hope for.

George Clinton

Gig preview for The Skinny

george clinton - the arches (glasgow) - 4/11/07

The Parliament-Funkadelic gigs of the 70s are the stuff of legend: giant spaceships descending from the ceiling, wild dancing in outrageous and bizarre costumes, and the loudest, skankiest funk ever heard performed by up to thirty musicians on-stage. Sadly, George Clinton’s Arches gig is unlikely to match up to those brushes with inter-planetary first contact, but it’s well worth beholding for anyone even remotely interested in funk. It’s no over-statement to say Clinton is a genius, one of James Brown’s few peers and a leader to funk’s greatest players like Bootsy Collins, Maceo Parker and Fred Wesley (each of whom joined Clinton’s P-Funk revolution after honing their chops with JB). And even if the Arches doesn’t birth any UFOs or time-travelling wizards, 66-year old Clinton, with his multi-coloured dreads and wacky on-stage antics, is still the radgest pensioner you’ll ever see.

BSS present Kevin Drew (live)

Live review for The Skinny

broken social scene present kevin drew - the arches (glasgow) - 15/10/2007 (****)

If Kevin Drew hopes his name being prominent on the new Broken Social Scene album will shoot him to stardom, it hasn’t happened yet. Before tonight's gig a girl approaches him beside the merchandise stall and, completely unaware, asks where she can purchase the support band’s album. On stage, he’s not worried: Drew, band-mate Brendan Canning and a handful of the other Scenesters provide a raucous show, packed with BSS favourites and the best of Drew’s new Spirit If...to an energised (and trendy-as-fuck) Monday night crowd. They meld gentle romantic charm with anthemic bluster, staving off soppiness with voluptuous guitars and the catchiest hooks never to make it to radio. Old favourites Cause=Time and Lovers Spit are given thunderous renditions, but nothing surpasses Drew’s own Farewell To The Pressure Kids, a cacophonous, echo-heavy jam that’s astonishing in size. By rights, Kevin Drew will never go unrecognised in these parts again.

Radiohead - In Rainbows

Album review for The Skinny

radiohead - in rainbows (*****)

At every stage since the phenomenal success of OK Computer, Radiohead have struggled to be themselves in the face of crushing pressure from their army of obsessive fans. After being both praised and pilloried for the leftward steps of Kid A and Amnesiac, Hail To The Thief represented that split between fans in its compilation of traditional indie-rock songs alongside more experimental efforts. Thom Yorke’s solo album got the scatter-bleeping tendencies out of his system, before Radiohead’s seventh album dropped out of the blue to demonstrate exactly how they were supposed to sound all this time.

With sumptuous, enveloping production, fluid guitars soaked in reverb, and Yorke’s voice at its most soulful, In Rainbows is Radiohead’s leanest, warmest and most accessible record in a decade. It exudes the confidence of a band liberated from the pressures of label deadlines and expectant fans, a band that finally seems – dare I say it? – happy in its own skin. This is a new Radiohead, one that subtly melds synths, loops, trips and beats into mid-tempo indie-rock, instead of clustering disparate styles into different songs and worrying about which to choose. Now you have the choice, but whatever you decide to pay for In Rainbows, it’s worth every penny.

------------------------
What is the point of this review? Nick Southall suggested that one of the reasons Stylus struggled to increase it's readership is because the easy availability of music online now means there is little point in reading critics' reviews. In Rainbows exemplifies this: anyone who is interested in Radiohead downloaded this album three weeks before my review was finally published in The Skinny today. Everyone who reads this review already has an opinion on the album, so (despite that last sentence) I'm no longer serving any recommendation function. The relevancy of music criticism takes a blow when, instead of taking time to read trusted opinions and committing money and time to carefully chosen albums, people can bypass all that by giving cursory listens to everything and snap-judging it all. Sure, a soldier might land more bullets on an enemy by wildly firing at them with a machine-gun, and they may kill more adversaries that way. Perhaps technology has increased efficiency and rendered the old way redundant. But I don't think music should ever be about quantities and efficiencies: for me, it's more satisfying to take a breath, focus on the subject at hand, and land a shot squarely between the eyes.