The UnthanksStanley Theatre
7th April
The Unthanks are a Northumbrian folk group centered around two sisters - Rachel and Becky Unthank. Formed in 2004, they also include former manager (and now husband of Becky) Adrian McNally on piano, Niopha Keegan, viola/backing vocals and finally Chris Price on bass, guitars and ukelele. Beginning life as Rachel Unthank and the Winterset, the band that started out playing small village festivals have gone on to gain considerable notoreity and numerous awards before shortening their name to incorperate Rachel in 2009. Debut album Cruel Sister was awarded Mojo magazine's Folk Album Of The Year award and earnt critical appraisal as well as a decent amount of radio exposure, by folk standards.
Tonight they entered the stage in jovial spirits, with Rachel looking healthily and heavily pregnant. Chatty throughout, the band conversed in strong Northumberland accents and brought the crowd in for what turned out to be an intimate and buoyant show, making the Stanley Theatre feel a whole lot smaller than it actually is. Dealing in Folk music of an earthy, rootsy nature, they come across as being traditionalists in the form. So much so that towards the end of the set, Becky treated the fans to mid-ditty clog-dancing. This faithful approach delivers delicate vocally-led harmonies, often with sparse arrangements but also supported on several songs by a live strings section. The Unthank sisters' voices complement eachother beautifully and Rachel in particular brings to mind the calm and serenity of Joanna Newsom. On the night, they were largely showcasing their fourth and newest long player - Last. Despite being released in 2011, Last somehow manages to sound not only comfortably older than any of the band but also older than the very threatre housing their sound and maybe even older than the Northumberland hills the Unthanks sisters themselves hail from.
There is a haunting quality to most of their work, and songs such as Gan To The Kye give off an aura of ancient mysticism, thanks largely to McNally's eerie piano work. You get the impression though that the sisters' vocals alone are intriguing and powerful enough to fill any size room, even without an instrument in sight. Lyrically, the theme is often of love lost and broken hearts, the usual fare really but somehow it all seems so ancient and epic. This si given sharp contrast by the fact they continue with their warm wit between songs and this serves to give respite from the deceptively dark and often harrowing effect many of the songs have. Take Lucky Gilchrist, written by McNally about a friend that passed away. Again bolstered and layered by strings and piano, it is deeply moving almost to the point of being emotionally sapping - beautiful.
Pete Robinson
Tuesday, 19 April 2011
Wednesday, 16 March 2011
The Mario Years, 11.3.11
The Mario Years
Every man, woman and child in the country can surely remember that moment when they got their first games console. For me that moment arrived at the tender age of 8 (though practically an adult by today's standards) and the console in question was a brand new, shiny SNES. The SNES (or Super Nintendo Entertainment System) in 2011, is largely consigned to the attics and lofts of the nation somewhere between Smash Hits back issues and an old Nokia 3210. At the time though, it was the latest and greatest thing in computer gaming. The image of super-cool Ryu and all his majesty staring up from the box at my impressionable young eyes on Christmas day 1994, now filed forever in the nether regions of my mind, under the heading 'Nostalgia'. Looking back through rose-tinted specs, it is still hard to view such titles as Streetfighter, Super Mario World or Sim City with anything but longing.
It is easy to scoff at the old consoles now, what with their 16-bit graphics, primitive sound tracks and 2D gaming. I can honestly say though that this five year period of my childhood in the mid-late nineties, was my gaming olden era. Go ahead, laugh. But all the Red Dead Redemption AI in the world can't the compare with the inate playibility of the likes of Super Mario Kart, Mortal Kombat, or even, dare i say it, Nigel Mansell's World Championship Racing. It first of those three though that will be the subject of my little rantette. If i had to choose only one game to play for the rest of eternity, this first-person racer would be my choice.
Having obliterated the SNES packaging at frightening speed, it was mere minutes (ok, it was mere minutes following an hour of Streetfighter) before me and the beautifully simple Nintendo control pad were in direct battle against the road-hog-evil of Bowser and the cunning of Princess Toadstool and her mushroom missiles. On the surface, there perhaps isn't a lot that stands out about Mario Kart. When the game's stripped down it's essentially funny little characters racing around in funny little cars, surreally dodging green shells and suspicious-looking mushrooms along the way. It wasn't especially pioneering either. There were racing games before it and my word have there been racing games since. When it comes to it though i could probably sum-up my devotion to Mario Kart in two words: insanely addictive. Never has any game (video or otherwise) been so very playable.
Into the first weeks of my SNES ownership, other titles were being increasingly overlooked in favour of the familiar rivalries of the likes of Yoshi the dinosaur and Koopa Troopa, the...erm...Koopa. After a while, i was exclusively playing just the one game, i was hooked on those little pink and yellow mushrooms. For a long time too. It isn't a game you get bored of easily, that's the problem. To begin with, it was actually pretty difficult to master. So much so, that even now i can still recall the very first time that i didn't lose to the Andy, an older boy that lived across the road. My mother was so proud. Well, she wasn't, but i definitely felt as if she should have been.
For those poor saps who haven't played, Mario Kart, in it's purest form is eight racers, 5 races, 5 laps per race and some inspired end credits involving, for no apparent reason a giant blimp which is eventually popped by a champagne cork by the winner (usually me as Toad). There are five different courses in each championship and four championships in all: Mushroom Cup, Flower Cup, Star Cup and Special Cup. Once all cups have been completed in one player mode, your wheels are upgraded from a 50cc 'Kart' to a 100cc version and once that difficulty level is finally mastered you have become a master of the art and your Kart gets souped-up all the way to a whopping 150cc of power. The whacky, trippy world of mid-'90s Nintendo is a far cry from the polished 'real world' graphics of modern day Gran Turismo but even looking back nostalgically, bizarre as it was, Mario Kart shouldn't be reduced to being just kitsch silliness. Indeed, i have never seen my competive edge flourish to the extent as on the final lap of Rainbow road armed with a 'Starman' in the back pocket.
Then there's Battle Mode. As exciting as it got at that time, this game-within-a-game essentially invented fighting whilst driving, and who knows where we'd be without that. Allowing up to 4-players, it also introduced me to the world of multi-player gaming. Each of the four is allotted three balloons as 'armour' and the aim of the game is to burst your opponent's balloons in a ruthless last-Kart-standing face off. With finishing lines not being part of the equation, Battle Mode is a completely different game, where the green shell is king. It was also the cause, until shamefully recently, of fairly serious family feuds between my older brother and i.
Sadly, my SNES years have come to an end and with that, my obsession with Mario Kart too. It is several years since i last cranked-up that clumsy-looking grey console, having wrestled with temperamental power cables and dust-laden cartridges, managed to eek out a last few hours of gaming and reminiscing. Nowadays, i lay little claim to being a gamer and despite being impressed by some comtemporary titles (Grand Theft Auto, Call Of Duty) it has been as an outsider looking in and the thrill has never quite returned. Without knowing it, the SNES years were my golden age for gaming. No matter how hard i try, it seems 90's gaming is in my blood. Mario Kart was my Mozart and everything else just pales in comparison.
Pete Robinson
Every man, woman and child in the country can surely remember that moment when they got their first games console. For me that moment arrived at the tender age of 8 (though practically an adult by today's standards) and the console in question was a brand new, shiny SNES. The SNES (or Super Nintendo Entertainment System) in 2011, is largely consigned to the attics and lofts of the nation somewhere between Smash Hits back issues and an old Nokia 3210. At the time though, it was the latest and greatest thing in computer gaming. The image of super-cool Ryu and all his majesty staring up from the box at my impressionable young eyes on Christmas day 1994, now filed forever in the nether regions of my mind, under the heading 'Nostalgia'. Looking back through rose-tinted specs, it is still hard to view such titles as Streetfighter, Super Mario World or Sim City with anything but longing.
It is easy to scoff at the old consoles now, what with their 16-bit graphics, primitive sound tracks and 2D gaming. I can honestly say though that this five year period of my childhood in the mid-late nineties, was my gaming olden era. Go ahead, laugh. But all the Red Dead Redemption AI in the world can't the compare with the inate playibility of the likes of Super Mario Kart, Mortal Kombat, or even, dare i say it, Nigel Mansell's World Championship Racing. It first of those three though that will be the subject of my little rantette. If i had to choose only one game to play for the rest of eternity, this first-person racer would be my choice.
Having obliterated the SNES packaging at frightening speed, it was mere minutes (ok, it was mere minutes following an hour of Streetfighter) before me and the beautifully simple Nintendo control pad were in direct battle against the road-hog-evil of Bowser and the cunning of Princess Toadstool and her mushroom missiles. On the surface, there perhaps isn't a lot that stands out about Mario Kart. When the game's stripped down it's essentially funny little characters racing around in funny little cars, surreally dodging green shells and suspicious-looking mushrooms along the way. It wasn't especially pioneering either. There were racing games before it and my word have there been racing games since. When it comes to it though i could probably sum-up my devotion to Mario Kart in two words: insanely addictive. Never has any game (video or otherwise) been so very playable.
Into the first weeks of my SNES ownership, other titles were being increasingly overlooked in favour of the familiar rivalries of the likes of Yoshi the dinosaur and Koopa Troopa, the...erm...Koopa. After a while, i was exclusively playing just the one game, i was hooked on those little pink and yellow mushrooms. For a long time too. It isn't a game you get bored of easily, that's the problem. To begin with, it was actually pretty difficult to master. So much so, that even now i can still recall the very first time that i didn't lose to the Andy, an older boy that lived across the road. My mother was so proud. Well, she wasn't, but i definitely felt as if she should have been.
For those poor saps who haven't played, Mario Kart, in it's purest form is eight racers, 5 races, 5 laps per race and some inspired end credits involving, for no apparent reason a giant blimp which is eventually popped by a champagne cork by the winner (usually me as Toad). There are five different courses in each championship and four championships in all: Mushroom Cup, Flower Cup, Star Cup and Special Cup. Once all cups have been completed in one player mode, your wheels are upgraded from a 50cc 'Kart' to a 100cc version and once that difficulty level is finally mastered you have become a master of the art and your Kart gets souped-up all the way to a whopping 150cc of power. The whacky, trippy world of mid-'90s Nintendo is a far cry from the polished 'real world' graphics of modern day Gran Turismo but even looking back nostalgically, bizarre as it was, Mario Kart shouldn't be reduced to being just kitsch silliness. Indeed, i have never seen my competive edge flourish to the extent as on the final lap of Rainbow road armed with a 'Starman' in the back pocket.
Then there's Battle Mode. As exciting as it got at that time, this game-within-a-game essentially invented fighting whilst driving, and who knows where we'd be without that. Allowing up to 4-players, it also introduced me to the world of multi-player gaming. Each of the four is allotted three balloons as 'armour' and the aim of the game is to burst your opponent's balloons in a ruthless last-Kart-standing face off. With finishing lines not being part of the equation, Battle Mode is a completely different game, where the green shell is king. It was also the cause, until shamefully recently, of fairly serious family feuds between my older brother and i.
Sadly, my SNES years have come to an end and with that, my obsession with Mario Kart too. It is several years since i last cranked-up that clumsy-looking grey console, having wrestled with temperamental power cables and dust-laden cartridges, managed to eek out a last few hours of gaming and reminiscing. Nowadays, i lay little claim to being a gamer and despite being impressed by some comtemporary titles (Grand Theft Auto, Call Of Duty) it has been as an outsider looking in and the thrill has never quite returned. Without knowing it, the SNES years were my golden age for gaming. No matter how hard i try, it seems 90's gaming is in my blood. Mario Kart was my Mozart and everything else just pales in comparison.
Pete Robinson
Monday, 14 March 2011
BSP in Stanley Theatre, Liverpool, 19.2.11
BRITISH SEA POWER
BO NINGEN - DAVID J ROCH
Stanley Theatre
Entering the Stanley Theatre with the crowd beginning to gather, to the delicate sounds of DAVID J ROCH provided a downbeat kind of mellow not usually associated with a visit from BRITISH SEA POWER. Whilst reminding us early on that he is usually accompanied by a band, Roch was solo tonight and invited us to take an intimate look at his torn, romantic offerings. Vocally, he has a scope and ambition reminiscient of Jeff Buckley: fragile yet strong and with an impressive range. Sans band, this is really allowed to come to the fore too, and some of his songs showed off their immediate beauty on first listen. Showing us glimpses of new album Skin and Bones, Roch was also quick to engage the audience with a self-depracating humour to contrast sharply with heartwrenching lyrics. Performances of Dew and tgher album's title-track in particular stood out; a guy definitely worth keeping tabs on.
The second warm-up act were though, quite frankly, a slap in the face for those who had settled in for a pleasant night infront of an acoustic guitar. Strange, androgynous and very loud, BO NINGEN have been attracting much attention of late, already being compared to post-hardcore act Fugazi and even Krautrockers Faust. They provide a real contrast, not only to Roch but to the vast majority of support acts at an indie gig. Onstage they are drums, bass guitar, lead guitar and rhythm/lead vocals. But whilst they are typical in line-up as a four-piece, thats pretty much where they dispense with the conventional. Uniformly sporting chest length dark, straight hair they are striking in appearance before you even get to their attire. Wearing clothes which may have been found at the bottom of Ziggy Stardust's fancy dress box, they fill the room with frantic high-pitched vocals, boundless energy and guitar riffs seemingly placed randomly within songs.
Planned or not, choosing to come on after Bo Ningen meant that BRITISH SEA POWER arrived on stage to a crowd warmed-up and ready for more. With new album Valhalla Dancehall on the shelves, they had a barrage of new songs to show off and seemed in good spirits as they entered the stage. The band, for those who don't know, are Yan (vocals/guitars), Hamilton (bass/guitar/vocals), Noble (guitars/keys), Wood (drums), Phil Sumner (cornet/keys) and Abi Fry (viola). The recent addition of Fry on the viola does bring about a notable extra dimension to the new material but also serves to add something to the back catalogue as well. They are indeed known for their live performances. Mainly, this is a reputation earned by their onstage use of air raid sirens, foliage as well as their use of unusual and often inspiring venues. What is perhaps less obvious though is their choice of songs in the live sets. They always seem to favour an even mix of tracks from each album. This is kind of refreshing when compared to the 'we're not doing our most famous songs, we're bored of playing them' attitude of some bands.
Back to the new material though, opening with lead single from the album Who's In Control?, there is no immediate departure here. Guitars soar and chime before thoughtful lyrics build to a rousing and warming chorus, this is how BSP have always plied their trade. Where their sound has evolved though, is through the likes of Mongk, a number introduced in last year's E.P. Zeus and revamped for Valhalla Dancehall as Mongk II. Off-kilter and brooding, it's also inventive and intelligent and has a catchiness which grabs you, unsuspecting. For all the majesty and beauty of their earlier material, this is a song which shows a self-awareness and an ability to move away from their songwriting comfort zone. There are shortcomings within the new stuff though. Take Living Is So Easy, it is by no means a bad tune, and is instantly hummable, whilst containing some expertly tonge-in-cheek lyrics. However, it also somehow souless, especially when compared to the likes of set-closer Spirit Of St. Louis. The latter has heart, zeal and a modestly brilliant guitar solo, whereas the former seems a little lightweight and flimsy in comparison. Overall, Valhalla Dancehall probably isn't as complete as previous efforts and may provoke the very occassional use of the 'skip' button. However, it is innovative and accessible enough to be recommended as a starting point for the newly intiated.
Pete Robinson
BO NINGEN - DAVID J ROCH
Stanley Theatre
Entering the Stanley Theatre with the crowd beginning to gather, to the delicate sounds of DAVID J ROCH provided a downbeat kind of mellow not usually associated with a visit from BRITISH SEA POWER. Whilst reminding us early on that he is usually accompanied by a band, Roch was solo tonight and invited us to take an intimate look at his torn, romantic offerings. Vocally, he has a scope and ambition reminiscient of Jeff Buckley: fragile yet strong and with an impressive range. Sans band, this is really allowed to come to the fore too, and some of his songs showed off their immediate beauty on first listen. Showing us glimpses of new album Skin and Bones, Roch was also quick to engage the audience with a self-depracating humour to contrast sharply with heartwrenching lyrics. Performances of Dew and tgher album's title-track in particular stood out; a guy definitely worth keeping tabs on.
The second warm-up act were though, quite frankly, a slap in the face for those who had settled in for a pleasant night infront of an acoustic guitar. Strange, androgynous and very loud, BO NINGEN have been attracting much attention of late, already being compared to post-hardcore act Fugazi and even Krautrockers Faust. They provide a real contrast, not only to Roch but to the vast majority of support acts at an indie gig. Onstage they are drums, bass guitar, lead guitar and rhythm/lead vocals. But whilst they are typical in line-up as a four-piece, thats pretty much where they dispense with the conventional. Uniformly sporting chest length dark, straight hair they are striking in appearance before you even get to their attire. Wearing clothes which may have been found at the bottom of Ziggy Stardust's fancy dress box, they fill the room with frantic high-pitched vocals, boundless energy and guitar riffs seemingly placed randomly within songs.
Planned or not, choosing to come on after Bo Ningen meant that BRITISH SEA POWER arrived on stage to a crowd warmed-up and ready for more. With new album Valhalla Dancehall on the shelves, they had a barrage of new songs to show off and seemed in good spirits as they entered the stage. The band, for those who don't know, are Yan (vocals/guitars), Hamilton (bass/guitar/vocals), Noble (guitars/keys), Wood (drums), Phil Sumner (cornet/keys) and Abi Fry (viola). The recent addition of Fry on the viola does bring about a notable extra dimension to the new material but also serves to add something to the back catalogue as well. They are indeed known for their live performances. Mainly, this is a reputation earned by their onstage use of air raid sirens, foliage as well as their use of unusual and often inspiring venues. What is perhaps less obvious though is their choice of songs in the live sets. They always seem to favour an even mix of tracks from each album. This is kind of refreshing when compared to the 'we're not doing our most famous songs, we're bored of playing them' attitude of some bands.
Back to the new material though, opening with lead single from the album Who's In Control?, there is no immediate departure here. Guitars soar and chime before thoughtful lyrics build to a rousing and warming chorus, this is how BSP have always plied their trade. Where their sound has evolved though, is through the likes of Mongk, a number introduced in last year's E.P. Zeus and revamped for Valhalla Dancehall as Mongk II. Off-kilter and brooding, it's also inventive and intelligent and has a catchiness which grabs you, unsuspecting. For all the majesty and beauty of their earlier material, this is a song which shows a self-awareness and an ability to move away from their songwriting comfort zone. There are shortcomings within the new stuff though. Take Living Is So Easy, it is by no means a bad tune, and is instantly hummable, whilst containing some expertly tonge-in-cheek lyrics. However, it also somehow souless, especially when compared to the likes of set-closer Spirit Of St. Louis. The latter has heart, zeal and a modestly brilliant guitar solo, whereas the former seems a little lightweight and flimsy in comparison. Overall, Valhalla Dancehall probably isn't as complete as previous efforts and may provoke the very occassional use of the 'skip' button. However, it is innovative and accessible enough to be recommended as a starting point for the newly intiated.
Pete Robinson
Sunday, 9 January 2011
Matt Berry at The Masque, Liverpool, 23.11.10
MATT BERRY
The Masque
Described by the press release as 'A dark night of music and comedy', expectations may have been that this was one for the fans and that if you're not already a follower of the undeniable comic talents of MATT BERRY then you probably won't enjoy his music. However, this wasn't the case at all because as it turns out, when Matt Berry is involved music combined with comedy a equals a well chosen night out. Apart from from being one of Britain's foremost comic talents appearing in the likes of The Mighty Boosh and the IT Crowd before you even get to the genius of Garth Marenghi's Darkplace (the man was Dr Lucien Sanchez), Berry is renowned first and foremost for that distinctive baritone.
Entering the stage with his support band donning novelty 'scouser' wigs (presumably not worn for the Birmingham gig the night before), Berry immediately purveys that larger-than-life persona of the multi-talented performer that he is. With a swagger and permanent faux-serious expression, he has undoubted presence and was quick to engage the crowd with a few ready quips, such as the quite surreal 'Liverpooool! I'm in Liverpool' and wasted no time in getting into their groove musically. They opened with the quite morbid The Hangman, a part jazz instrumental, part spoken word introduction to the strange and surreal themes of Berry's work. Throughout many of his songs there are common themes of lost love and heartbreak, yet surprisingly the outcome is a strangely warming black comedy.
Showcasing his new album Witchazel, Berry also threw in a few crowd-pleasers, presumably with his comedy fan audience in mind. Mid-set, the insanely catchy theme to his left-field and largely overlooked TV comedy Snuffbox came out. That he actually wrote, scored and composed the music for the entire series himself, demonstrates that there are many strings to his bow. And it is within Love Is A Fool that it becomes apparent that Berry has genuine songwriting ability. The lines 'How can I love if it's plastic, to live on my own just seems tragic' make an inspired rhyming couplet which finds its way into the foremost conscious mind and stays there for hours after the show.
Whether Berry and his band currently have the volume of material to pursue this musical venture further, is another matter. At times they show glimpses of limitations within, despite all the fun being had. The question is, if the amusing lyrics and comic musical themes weren't there, would the music alone stand up to scrutiny? Tracks such as Hot Dog and Jet Setter from first album Opium, suggest they would. Here Berry has created atmospheric, haunting, music which is intriguingly upbeat at the same time. The new songs from Witchazel though, don't perhaps quite manage to explore any new ground. An Awakening and Accident At A Harvest Festival meander along promisingly but don't have much of the wit or allure of his earlier work. The album as a whole whilst agreeable and admirable for its musicianship, does come across as slightly one-dimensional and at it's worst easily forgettable. This night was worth it alone though for One Track Lover possibly Berry's finest work. A brilliantly funny spoof of a song, stemming from his role as Lucien Sanchez in Channel 4's Garth Marenghi's Darkplace, it is '80s soft rock containing the sublime line 'She's cool, like ice, cold to the touch and it isn't very nice' performed in the show as a rap by Richard Ayoade. The song not only proves Berry's worth as a songwriter and comedian but also as a highly talented musician. He's also an entertainer and one whose shift from the periphery of British comedy to the centre has really been long overdue.
Pete Robinson
The Masque
Described by the press release as 'A dark night of music and comedy', expectations may have been that this was one for the fans and that if you're not already a follower of the undeniable comic talents of MATT BERRY then you probably won't enjoy his music. However, this wasn't the case at all because as it turns out, when Matt Berry is involved music combined with comedy a equals a well chosen night out. Apart from from being one of Britain's foremost comic talents appearing in the likes of The Mighty Boosh and the IT Crowd before you even get to the genius of Garth Marenghi's Darkplace (the man was Dr Lucien Sanchez), Berry is renowned first and foremost for that distinctive baritone.
Entering the stage with his support band donning novelty 'scouser' wigs (presumably not worn for the Birmingham gig the night before), Berry immediately purveys that larger-than-life persona of the multi-talented performer that he is. With a swagger and permanent faux-serious expression, he has undoubted presence and was quick to engage the crowd with a few ready quips, such as the quite surreal 'Liverpooool! I'm in Liverpool' and wasted no time in getting into their groove musically. They opened with the quite morbid The Hangman, a part jazz instrumental, part spoken word introduction to the strange and surreal themes of Berry's work. Throughout many of his songs there are common themes of lost love and heartbreak, yet surprisingly the outcome is a strangely warming black comedy.
Showcasing his new album Witchazel, Berry also threw in a few crowd-pleasers, presumably with his comedy fan audience in mind. Mid-set, the insanely catchy theme to his left-field and largely overlooked TV comedy Snuffbox came out. That he actually wrote, scored and composed the music for the entire series himself, demonstrates that there are many strings to his bow. And it is within Love Is A Fool that it becomes apparent that Berry has genuine songwriting ability. The lines 'How can I love if it's plastic, to live on my own just seems tragic' make an inspired rhyming couplet which finds its way into the foremost conscious mind and stays there for hours after the show.
Whether Berry and his band currently have the volume of material to pursue this musical venture further, is another matter. At times they show glimpses of limitations within, despite all the fun being had. The question is, if the amusing lyrics and comic musical themes weren't there, would the music alone stand up to scrutiny? Tracks such as Hot Dog and Jet Setter from first album Opium, suggest they would. Here Berry has created atmospheric, haunting, music which is intriguingly upbeat at the same time. The new songs from Witchazel though, don't perhaps quite manage to explore any new ground. An Awakening and Accident At A Harvest Festival meander along promisingly but don't have much of the wit or allure of his earlier work. The album as a whole whilst agreeable and admirable for its musicianship, does come across as slightly one-dimensional and at it's worst easily forgettable. This night was worth it alone though for One Track Lover possibly Berry's finest work. A brilliantly funny spoof of a song, stemming from his role as Lucien Sanchez in Channel 4's Garth Marenghi's Darkplace, it is '80s soft rock containing the sublime line 'She's cool, like ice, cold to the touch and it isn't very nice' performed in the show as a rap by Richard Ayoade. The song not only proves Berry's worth as a songwriter and comedian but also as a highly talented musician. He's also an entertainer and one whose shift from the periphery of British comedy to the centre has really been long overdue.
Pete Robinson
The Acorn at Mojo, Liverpool, 26.11.10
THE ACORN
Mojo
THE ACORN are a Canadian band with a growing reputation for their affecting and delicate indie sound. Formed in 2003 and are currently touring their third album No Ghost, follow-up to 2007's Glory Hope Mountain. In the cosy and intimate surroundings of the venue, they seemed in high spirits as they came onto the small Mojo stage; instantly chatty and sharing jokes with the crowd.
They are a band who have attracted much praise since the release of their second long-player Glory Hope Mountain and have supporters as diverse as Elbow's Guy Garvey and Kanye West (the latter has been known to have waxed lyrical about the group's indie hit Crooked Legs). Since their last offering though, the Rolf Klausener-fronted 4-piece have matured their sound and arrived with a new body of work to show off. Though they started the set with the laid-back psychedelica of Flood from the first album, they were quick to bring out their latest work through the likes of Cobbled From Dust and Kindling To Cremation. The former is a slowly pulsating number with a chiming melody, complemented nicely by Klausener's yearning vocals. The latter is similarly pleasant and well-crafted but also demonstrates lyrically how accomplished The Acorn are as songwriters. The line 'and this is how you pass the time away' has a certain soporific quality to it which typifies much of No Ghost. There is still the signature atmospheric, hypnotic sound that sets The Acorn apart from contemporaries, but new ground has been explored and musically they have ventured further afield than in the past. In Misplaced they kick away slightly from the floaty ambience associated with their sound and seamlessly switch modes to a more upbeat, crisp rhythm. Whereas in No Ghost, they offer guitar hooks from the top of the fret-board which bring to mind The Foals as much as anyone.
Yet whilst this allows The Acorn to display a broader range and gives the impression they have the ideas to progress further still, it also hints at their limitations. There are weaker tracks on the album such as Almanac and I Made The Law where there seems to be a loss of focus. The former is a curious track and although calling it filler might be a touch harsh, it is one that doesn't really blossom. It feels in parts like The Acorn have failed where Midlake have succeeded with 2010's Acts Of Man. There is plenty of beauty on offer for the most part, and this was a performance easily capable of attracting the uninitiated. Judging by the positive reaction in Mojo, there will be plenty who followed up their interest too.
The Acorn are a a band very much still on a journey and have not yet produced their masterpiece. They are hit and miss and are not yet the finished article but if the journey alone is this alluring then they are well worth perserving with. Don't be a surprised if in a couple of years they reach a wider audience with a record which not only makes people sit up and take notice but has a lasting influence on the world of indie rock.
Pete Robinson
Mojo
THE ACORN are a Canadian band with a growing reputation for their affecting and delicate indie sound. Formed in 2003 and are currently touring their third album No Ghost, follow-up to 2007's Glory Hope Mountain. In the cosy and intimate surroundings of the venue, they seemed in high spirits as they came onto the small Mojo stage; instantly chatty and sharing jokes with the crowd.
They are a band who have attracted much praise since the release of their second long-player Glory Hope Mountain and have supporters as diverse as Elbow's Guy Garvey and Kanye West (the latter has been known to have waxed lyrical about the group's indie hit Crooked Legs). Since their last offering though, the Rolf Klausener-fronted 4-piece have matured their sound and arrived with a new body of work to show off. Though they started the set with the laid-back psychedelica of Flood from the first album, they were quick to bring out their latest work through the likes of Cobbled From Dust and Kindling To Cremation. The former is a slowly pulsating number with a chiming melody, complemented nicely by Klausener's yearning vocals. The latter is similarly pleasant and well-crafted but also demonstrates lyrically how accomplished The Acorn are as songwriters. The line 'and this is how you pass the time away' has a certain soporific quality to it which typifies much of No Ghost. There is still the signature atmospheric, hypnotic sound that sets The Acorn apart from contemporaries, but new ground has been explored and musically they have ventured further afield than in the past. In Misplaced they kick away slightly from the floaty ambience associated with their sound and seamlessly switch modes to a more upbeat, crisp rhythm. Whereas in No Ghost, they offer guitar hooks from the top of the fret-board which bring to mind The Foals as much as anyone.
Yet whilst this allows The Acorn to display a broader range and gives the impression they have the ideas to progress further still, it also hints at their limitations. There are weaker tracks on the album such as Almanac and I Made The Law where there seems to be a loss of focus. The former is a curious track and although calling it filler might be a touch harsh, it is one that doesn't really blossom. It feels in parts like The Acorn have failed where Midlake have succeeded with 2010's Acts Of Man. There is plenty of beauty on offer for the most part, and this was a performance easily capable of attracting the uninitiated. Judging by the positive reaction in Mojo, there will be plenty who followed up their interest too.
The Acorn are a a band very much still on a journey and have not yet produced their masterpiece. They are hit and miss and are not yet the finished article but if the journey alone is this alluring then they are well worth perserving with. Don't be a surprised if in a couple of years they reach a wider audience with a record which not only makes people sit up and take notice but has a lasting influence on the world of indie rock.
Pete Robinson
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