All We Are Saying Is Give Peace A Chance

Sunday 4th September: The last day of the school holidays and, contrary to the forecast I had seen, the sun was shining this morning. After having my first suggestion for an activity vetoed (due to the the possibility of having to walk through a field of cows) I tentatively put forward the fact that there was live music on in Rowntree Park this afternoon. Surprisingly, the family thought it was a good idea to head down.

In fact, it was the York Peace Festival which, now celebrating its 25th anniversary, provides a mixture of music, activities, and fund raising through the afternoon and early evening, spreading itself along the length of the ornamental lake. The music itself was divided across two main stages – the Arena and the One World Stage (with enough distance between them that you couldn’t hear the acts on one while standing at the other) and a smaller Backyard Cabaret Area, which provided some more “off-the-wall” acts than those of the main stages.

There were specific acts I was hoping to see but we started by having a walk around and Elizabeth was soon entranced by Scrap Value, in the Backyard Cabaret. As the names suggests, they produced percussion music, using “scrap” – pieces of pipe, empty water cooler bottles and what looked like table tennis bats, amongst other things. They were, it has to be said, quite entertaining, producing some unusual noise from everyday objects, but we didn’t have time to watch for long as one of the bands I wanted to see was about to start on the Arena stage.

I’ve seen Falling Spikes three times now and their brand of psychedelic shoe-gazing seems to get better every time. Strangely, the sound for their set today was the best I've heard it and the music came across very well, despite the outdoor setting. I can only remember one song played (I wasn’t taking notes) and that was Shotgun. The band obviously had friends/fans in the audience as a few people got up to dance, staying towards the rear of the concreted area, despite being urged forward by frontman Alexander Peck. It being a festival, it was almost inevitable that the rain would come. And it did, a fine drizzle starting halfway through the set, forcing umbrellas and, in one case, a parasol up and waterproofs on but failing to dampen the spirits of those watching. Despite not being an upbeat band, the Spikes’ set got a warm reception from the increasingly damp crowd.

The next band on were We Could Be Astronauts, were formed last year from the remnants of Hijak Oscar and Idle Jack & The Big Sleep. I hadn’t seen them before today but had heard some positive things about them and, I hav eto say, they were a bit of a revelation. With flamboyant and energetic frontman Robert Loxley Hughes almost seeming to channel Robert Plant (in looks, if not in vocals) they rather appropriately play in a style reminiscent of seventies rock, without making it sound cheesy. Highlight of their set for me was the emotional and near-epic Lost At Sea. There’s a CD in the offing and, if that is one of the tracks on it, there’s a good chance that I’ll be adding it to my collection. It’s perhaps testament to their performance that the crowd, which had diminished between acts at least partly due to the increasingly heavy rain, had swelled considerably by the time the set was done. Debbie, who (let’s face it) isn’t the biggest music fan around, declared them her favourite act of the two so far because Hughes seemed to “have more about him than the other guy”. I think it’s apparent that she doesn’t really appreciate the more introspective aspects of the likes of Falling Spikes. On the basis of this performance, though, I will be trying to see these guys again.

Next it was over to the One World Stage, so Elizabeth could finally get to see one of her favourite acts perform live. No, Justin Bieber hadn’t made a surprise appearance at a small local festival (a la Elton John in The Vicar Of Dibley…) Instead it was Boss Caine, whose songs she has liked since the first time I played his (their?) album The Ship That Sailed. In a short (but very sweet) set we were treated to A Kind Of Loving, Dead Man’s Suit, Ghosts And Drunks and (Everybody Loves You More When You’re) Down On Your Knees. Again the sound was handled very well. It may have been that we were standing (at Elizabeth’s behest) closer to the stage than anybody else, but the vocals and guitar both came across as very clear. Elizabeth declared this as her favourite act of the afternoon and was only slightly disappointed that none of the songs came from the album and, therefore, that she didn’t know any of them. She did have an opportunity to say hello to GT himself earlier in the afternoon but actually went a bit shy (either that or she was starstruck…)

We didn’t really listen to any other acts as closely, although you could hear them as you were wandering around the park. The only other one I feel I could comment on were, according to the programme (and assuming the running order was correct), Atlantika. The programme notes stated “Funky deep house band with uplifting vocals, sampled dance beats and live drums”, which didn’t make them sound that appealing to be honest. However, if it was them that preceded Boss Caine, they actually sounded pretty good and, despite what the quote leads you to believe, also included live guitars and, as far as I could hear, very little sampling.

Other, non-musical, highlights of the afternoon included Elizabeth trying to boil a kettle using just pedal-power (apparently it took three hours of combined effort last year); me continuing to prove that coconut shies aren’t as hard as they look (I’ve had three goes in my entire life and knocked a coconut off twice – hence I’m now retiring…); Local celebrity-spotting – as well as members of bands who were performing we saw Bryan and Livvy from Mostly Autumn and Heidi from Stolen Earth; the largest and stickiest (it must have been the organic sugar) candy floss you will ever lay eyes on; and bumping into Rachael from Coffee On Demand, thereby ensuring we got decent cups of coffee throughout the afternoon. In fact there was almost too much to do – we were primarily there for the music and didn’t look at much else but could have watched dancing, puppet theatre and many other things if we had the time. It may have been damp, but it was certainly enjoyable. Elizabeth got her first taste of “proper” live music and seemed to appreciate, as well as enjoy, it.

And wouldn’t you know it, just as we left the sun came out.

Spikes and Tears

Saturday 19th February: Another weekend, another trip to Fibbers. This time the bill is two bands that I last saw play (on the same bill again) back in 2007. Unfortunately, I had only just started blogging these reviews back then so details of that gig are a little sparse.

Last time around, The Falling Spikes were second on the bill. Tonight they are openers. I don’t quite remember there being so many people on stage last time. Starting off with six people on stage (I assume the six listed on the above link) they were soon joined by a seventh, mystery man who accompanied Maria Tjader on percussion as well as seeming to take the lion’s share of backing vocals.

Last time around, I wasn’t overly impressed with the music. I don’t know whether it’s my tastes or the band’s output that has changed, but I found myself enjoying it a lot more tonight. Perhaps best described as danceable psychedelia, there were hints of Hawkind and Engineers but with a lighter touch permeating the music due to the tambourines and maracas. The vocals were subjected to a fair amount of reverb and were still a little droney and monotonous, but in a way that I have now come to expect from shoegazers. Standout song was Midnight Train, the twin vocals for which provided a soaring end to the set.

The band also tried to utilise visuals in their set, with a black and white film on loop behind them. Unfortunately, the low ceiling at Fibbers meant that much of it was obscured by the shadows of the musicians.

It can’t have been too long after I saw Ishtar that the band split up (amicably). Last year, it was reformed as Tears of Ishtar and, from speaking to drummer Greg Parsons (also of RSJ), there are big plans for the new version of this post-rock/experimental/progressive band. Tonight was, I believe, only their second live performance (after last year’s appearance at the Galtres Festival) and there was high expectation from my party at least.

Tonight we were treated to a forty-five minute version of Trials of Descent, a shorter version of which can be found on the page linked above. Well, I say forty-five minutes, it turns out that the band played it slightly too fast in places (I saw one of them motioning to the others to slow down) and it eventually came in at a little over forty minutes. The performance is also split by very brief pauses, almost as though the music is split into suites, which give the audience a chance to show their appreciation throughout the music. And appreciative we were, fervently applauding music that varied so much that you could almost have been listening to a Pink Floyd/Metallica mash-up. (I’m not knowledgeable enough about the new bands that are listed as influences and have to revert back to “dinosaur rock for my references…)

The music was tight and any mistakes (I was told there was a few) weren’t noticeable by us. It was a shame that the cries for “More” weren’t answered. Who knows how long an encore we could have been treated to. If this was just a taster of things to come from the revitalised Tears of Ishtar, then I personally can’t wait.

Emotionless Fibbers, Emotional Swan

Friday 23rd November: Another trip to Fibbers was on the cards (Friday nights out are getting more and more regular, just like these postings.

First on was Ishtar - all the guys except me had seen them before and knew what to expect. For about thirty minutes, the four guitarists and one drummer played either one tune (there's no singing) or, possibly, three tunes which segued into each other perfectly. Apart from the drummer, there is little movement on stage and very little emotion shown. Very good, though.

Second was The Falling Spikes. Competent if uninspiring music but the vocals were fairly dull. The singer was constantly leaning down to reach the mike - either he didn't realise that the stand was adjustable or he was trying for some sort of reverse-Lemmy effect - and had an expression that was halfway between angst-ridden and about-to-burst-into-tears. Of the five songs, three sounded the same and only the last one revived quite a dull set.

Finally, an L.A. band called The Warlocks. I had listened to snippets of their music on myspace during the day and was looking forward to seeing them live. Their profile said they were an octet with two drum kits - how were they going to fit on Fibbers' stage?? From my vantage point, I could see the two drums kits but only five musicians, including the female bass player who, like Ishtar, appeared completely devoid of emotion. For some reason, the sound man had cranked the volume about to about 12, resulting in a bit of early feedback and some quite unnerving bass vibrations. Trouble is that we didn't know whether they were supposed to sound like that. After all, unless the sound man had gone home or was totally deaf, he didn't seem to think there was much wrong. Anyway, while the music sounded like it could have been good, the vocals were totally inaudible. I would like to hear more, though, so may seek out one of their CDs.

After that it was on to the Swan for what could be a duet of farewells. Tom, the landlord, was moving on and the full Hazzard County (except for Chris) were playing what, apparently, had been advertised as their last gig. To celebrate, it appeared that Tom had given the regular staff the night off and that everybody who had ever been a member of the Hazzards (except for Chris) got a stint in front of the mike or playing some sort of instrument. It got to the point where a scorecard was needed to work out who had played what with, at one point towards the end, Tom (the landlord, not the drummer) having a go at the drums. While it looked a bit chaotic at times, it was a cracking performance overall and, due to me getting a lift in, one I was able to see right to the end. There were emotional speeches from Tom and lots of applause when he announced that, if he managed to find another pub in town, he would continue to book live music. We were finally kicked out of the pub after 1 o'clock this morning.

If that was the Hazzard's last gig, it's a damned shame - the more I heard of them, the more I liked them. And, how many other bands have been together, even with changes of line-up, for something like thirteen years. Strangely enough, though, there was no farewell from them.