Dan Auerbach - Keep It Hid

DAN AUERBACH
Keep It Hid

While touring The Black Keys’ most recent album, Attack & Release, guitarist/vocalist Dan Auerbach filled much of his spare time writing the songs that have gone on to comprise his debut solo record. Including multiple instruments played by Auerbach, including guitar, drums, keys and percussion, the 14 tracks depart ever so slightly from the dirty electric blues of his band and go on a journey through his musical influences, while all the time retaining an undeniable sense of familiarity.

Opening track Trouble Weighs a Ton is a gentle, downbeat gospel ballad which eases you in before the bone-shuddering I Want Some More bulldozes it out of the way. Heartbroken, In Disrepair is next with Smiths-like guitars making it sound like How Soon Is Now’s beardy American cousin. When The Night Comes is The Black Keys doing Van Morrison, and The Prowl offers psychedelia before things are rounded off sweetly with the delicate acoustics of Goin’ Home.

Even though Auerbach has clearly paid homage to some eclectic influences, and there is indeed some creative exploration here, one wonders whether he could have ventured just a little further from the safety of the sound he has so firmly established with his other band. Sure, it’s cool to hear the result of him dusting off his record collection, but many of these songs could still easily slot into a Black Keys album. Still, I suppose that really should be seen as an indication of the quality of Keep It Hid rather than as a wasted opportunity or a lack of vision.

Threatmantics - Upbeat Love

THREATMANTICS
Upbeat Love

If you want to hear some good old Welsh names then you need look no further than the three members of Threatmantics. Brothers Heddwyn and Huw Davies first encountered Ceri Mitchell, so the story goes, on the side of a motorway and the band was born. It is fitting that the trio should have met in such an unconventional location as they went on to form a group that certainly strays away from the norm.

The most obvious thing to point out about Threatmantics is that the lead guitar is actually a viola. Also, the keyboardist and the drummer are one and the same. That is, Huw Davies plays both instruments simultaneously. The viola certainly gives an interesting angle to things, as it takes the sound away from the indie-rock path so many bands are keen to tread and moves it more towards folk-punk. There are interestingly ramshackle pop melodies here too though and hum-along choruses like Buried Alive.

At times, their sound does feel a little limited, but within their self-inflicted restrictions there are some foot-stomping tracks to enjoy, like album-opener Big Man, which also demonstrates the typically cynical subject-matter. “It takes a big man to break a young girl’s heart,” Heddwyn Davies yells through a fuzz of distortion. It is a visceral start that rarely dips through the eight tracks here. While, at little over thirty minutes, it is more of a mini-album than a full offering, Upbeat Love offers enough of a teaser to suggest that, when a long player eventually drops, it should be greeted with interest.

Seasick Steve - I Started Out With Nothin' and I Still Got Most Of It Left

Steve Wold’s story would make a great book. Born in post-war San Francisco, he ran away from home at 13, busked from 16, split much of his life between jail and sleeping under bridges before he moved to Norway, married a waitress, had a heart attack, recovered and, a couple of years ago, won the Mojo Breakthrough award well into his 60s. Now, I Started Out With Nothin’… sees him make the move onto a major label. Considering how he recorded his previous album, Dog House Music, in a kitchen using a knackered old 3-string guitar, one wonders how well his unpolished American hobo blues will translate having been recorded in a fancy English studio owned by one of the dudes out of The Darkness.

Thankfully, such slick surroundings didn’t affect his rough charm; and this is very much the same old Seasick Steve. He tells yarns, growls like Tom Waits and busks away on buzzy guitars. Okay, so a few showbiz mates turn up, but they all make valuable contributions. Happy Man features KT Tunstall on guitar and Ruby Turner’s soulful voice. Awesomely, Nick Cave and Grinderman show up on the Just Like a King, with Cave offering a typically menacing, witty vocal turn.

Such is the quality of I Started Out With Nothin’… that it proves Wold isn’t just appealing because of his intriguing back-story or through the novelty, these days, of him playing homemade, beat-up old guitars, but, quite simply, because he writes fantastic tunes and oozes personality.

Review by Rob Townsend

Bridezilla at the Hopetoun

Now that all five members of Bridezilla have turned 18, The Hopetoun Hotel in Sydney's Surry Hills finally allowed them through their doors, and so the quintet recently played a sold-out debut there.Support came from Syndey-based Philadelphia Grand Jury (below), who were sporting 50% less beardage than the last time I saw them. With silly pseudonyms, manic staring eyes, sartorial inelegance and (kinda dumb and a bit annoying) recorded between-song segues, the trio came across as quite the strangest bunch, but, joyfully, their oddness didn't seem contrived at all, and the best thing about this bunch of local weirdos is that they have indie-nerd-pop tunes that it is impossible not to dance to.By the time Bridezilla took to the stage, the heat in the room was unbearable but it didn't stop the band giving a majestic performance. While the band was typically captivating, the ridiculous temperature became more and more a test of everyone's endurance as the night went on. Daisy had to keep stopping to wipe down her violin, frontwoman Holiday threw water over flagging audience members while Millie poured a bottle of water over her head to cool down after leaping around the stage with a bit too much vigour.

A host of new songs - including one written just the day before - sounded great, as did old favourites (and always a highlight), the instrumental Mr Young and set closer St Francine. As the crowd and band rushed outside at the end of to breathe in some much needed air, it was obvious to everyone that Bridezilla's time is almost here and, once their soon-to-be-recorded debut album is released, they'll be headlining venues much bigger than The Hopetoun (and hopefully with better air-con).

Vintage and Retro Fashion at Hibernian House

As the, ahem, "King Of Sydney" (according to this man), I feel it is my place to pass on some of my undeniable coolness. So, if you are in need of some cool new threads, you might want to check the fuck out of the monthly Vintage and Retro Fashion sale that I help to host.

Okay, so the coolness is mostly thanks to this chick, and my roll in the procedings is to put my ridiculously anal (pffft) organisational skills to use. Basically I'm in charge of making sure we don't run out of carrier bags. Hey, it's an important job. So, come along to see us and you're bound to find something. There's lots of girls stuff and a few boys things too (I'm selling some of my stuff because I have grown fond of wearing blouses recently).

Full details here, or if you are a facebooker, then go here.

The Streets in Sydney

THE STREETS
The Forum, Entertainment Quarter
05/02/09

With the crowd chanting his surname, The Streets’ Mike Skinner took to the stage looking the archetypal English geezer in a white t-shirt, khaki shorts and pearly white trainers and with an earring glistening in his left ear. Backed by a four-piece band and sharing vocal duties with the talented Kevin Mark Trail, Skinner launched into tracks from his latest album and early hits like Don’t Mug Yourself. While, as a live entity, The Streets didn’t offer much in the way of song-to-song variety, Skinner’s wry take on modern life still sounded fun, if slightly hackneyed. However, the few occasions his band offered something different were especially pleasing. A cover of The Prodigy’s Out Of Space oozed adrenaline, and a tribute to Skinner’s late father, the touching Never Went To Church, saw him uncharacteristically reverential.

Regardless of the general lack of diversity or of how relevant The Streets remain in 2009, the night was really all about Skinner’s interaction with the crowd. He came across as a genuinely lovely chap and, not put off by the fact that Sydney punters are way too cool to actually enjoy themselves, was clearly determined to ensure every member of the audience had fun. “Are you still alive?” he joked, placing his fingers on his pulse, before seemingly trying to make eye-contact with each person in the room. “Can you hear me? Can you see me?” he asked umpteen times before issuing intricate orders to participate. He led singalongs, organised synchronised jumping and threw schooners of beer to people in the front rows. “When the drummer stands up, you freeze,” he demanded. The drummer rose, the room came to a complete standstill. A surreal moment. More bizarre participation followed, with Skinner telling everyone to crouch during a piano part. The band came back in, everyone leapt up and danced like crazy.

A few more old songs, inevitably including Fit But You Know It, brought the night to a close, but not before Skinner insisted on trying the crouching thing again because a couple of a people on the balcony didn’t take part the first time. “Do you want to have a good time? Are you with me?” he questioned. By this stage, the answer was a resounding yes, even from Sydney’s reluctant cool kids.

Review by Rob Townsend

The transfer window - a false, cornered market?

Every Saturday I write a column about football in English newspaper, The Argus. Here is an excerpt from my musings this week:Hull City manager Phil Brown recently brought up some interesting points about the transfer window, saying agents and players have created a false, cornered market that is unfairly weighed in favour of the seller. This prompted Manchester City boss Mark Hughes to bemoan the inflated prices and heightened expectations that come about because of the limited time clubs have to conduct their transfers.

It’s hardly surprising Hughes has got the hump, as surely any club that he approaches will stick a few million quid on any player’s asking price in the knowledge that Manchester City are swimming in cash since their takeover. A case in point was the Shay Given transfer. Newcastle boss Joe Kinnear described City’s original bid of £5m as “insulting.” This translates as, “Do me a favour. If you could afford to offer a hundred million for Kaka, you can at least throw us another £3m.”

I think the transfer window favours the big clubs who can afford to start the season with a massive squad. While everyone else suffers because of injuries and suspensions, the likes of Manchester United have players such as Tevez chomping at the bit to get a game. Mark Hughes stated in a recent interview that he couldn’t remember why the transfer window was brought in, and neither can I. Presumably it was for the benefit of the game, but how can such a melee where silly money is spent in a state of panic be anything but detrimental to football? Sure, it’s a fun spectacle for fans, but in these worrying economic times, shouldn’t more measured financial decisions be encouraged, rather than clubs desperately throwing money around and hoping some of it will stick?

Camille at the City Recital Hall

CAMILLE
City Recital Hall, Sydney
22/01/09

Sometimes, as good as their records are, you need to see a musician live to fully appreciate their art. Camille is a perfect example of this.

It was clear this was going to be different from your average gig when the Parisian crawled onto stage like a cat and launched into her distinct style of French chanson by clicking her fingers, beating her hands against her chest, and whinnying like a horse. She was then joined by her band for an a capella version of La Jeune Fille aux Cheveux Blancs, after which a piano was the only conventional instrument used in a distinctly unconventional Bossa Nova sound that showed gleeful disregard for anything resembling classic musicianship. Backing vocalists clicked their fingers, rubbed their hands together and mimicked guitar sounds with their voices. Two male singers created a drumbeat by banging their feet rhythmically on a microphoned plinth. A skipping rope whooshed, perspex wobbled, two beat-boxers duelled, drumsticks tapped on top of the piano and hiccups were used as percussion. On paper, this may appear dangerously close to pretentious performance art – the sound of people’s heads disappearing up their own backsides – but in reality nothing could be further from the truth. Camille’s vocal – which jumped between French and English – was magnificent regardless of whether she was scatting or hitting the high notes, and the strange ways of creating melodies and beats weren’t merely enjoyable because they were inventive, but because they sounded so fucking good.

There was a lot to suggest that Camille lands somewhere between a little eccentric and totally bonkers. She stripped a shirt from a male vocalist and one from an audience member to fashion a makeshift skirt for no other reason than because she felt like it, ran in circles on the stage simply because it looked fun and stuck her head in the grand piano mid-song, well, just because. At one stage she changed into an evening gown which deliberately revealed most of her bum.

The crowd, who started the night reserved and reluctant to embrace the singalongs, demanded three encores, which included Ta Douleur and a cover of Yes We Can Can. This particular reviewer would be happy if Camille was still encoring now, as the experimental 90-minute show was moving, funny, intriguing, mesmerising and a triumph for innovation and vivid imagination. Absolutely mind-blowing.