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Day: 15 November 2012

Column: Kendrick Lamar – the Saviour of Hip Hop?

Written by Joe Goggins on . Posted in Music.

Like a particularly nasty hangover, the lingering effects of Odd Future’s meteoric rise to prominence last year continue to rankle. We’re only eighteen months on from what felt like the ubiquity of ‘Yonkers’ and ‘Sandwitches’, but already it’s a little difficult to recall why, exactly, the collective created such a stir. If you can cast your mind far back enough, though, you’ll remember what it was about Odd Future that captured the imagination of the hip hop world, even fleetingly; they looked ready to administer a desperately-needed shot in the arm to a flagging genre. ‘Yonkers’ seemed like a new breed of hip hop track, eschewing the more typical lyrical conventions of recent times in favour of verbal ideas equal parts disturbing and bizarre, like an aural microcosm of Chris’ Morris’ Jam, laid over a sparse and markedly unpolished beat. Their eye-catching performance on Jimmy Fallon’s talk show evoked memories of a young Wu-Tang Clan, and their already-prodigious level of output at that stage presented something for the hip hop community to invest some emotional stock in. It’s saddening, then, that Odd Future are already best remembered pretty unflatteringly; their gratuitous use of misogynistic and homophobic language (and their belligerent attitude when pulled up on it) became very tired very fast, as did Tyler, The Creator’s shtick; he still posts irritating, inconsequential nonsense on his twitter feed with the First Letter Of Every Word Capitalised, but surely no one continues to pay him any heed.

The truth is, though, that the buzz generated by Odd Future was representative of much more than just hipster yearning to be the first blog to break the Next Big Thing; it reflected the fact that there was a dearth of fresh ideas in hip hop. The genre had finally begun to be consumed by the rampant materialism that, once upon a time, did have some relevance; no longer were cars, women and diamonds being used to gauge the rags-to-riches success of the likes of Biggie, Pac, Jay-Z and Nas; instead, we’ve had years of watching 50 Cent and Snoop Dogg parading around as self-styled pimps, contributing nothing meaningful or emotionally engaging. Musically, the genre had taken an alarming move towards soulless, manufactured pop sensibilities; to hear Kanye West, the man who pioneered a visionary production style on The Blueprint, replete with so many great vintage soul samples, produce a record that leaned so heavily on AutoTune in 808s and Heartbreak was depressing to say the least.

Fortuitously timed, then, is the arrival of good kid, m.A.A.d. city. Kendrick Lamar’s sophomore LP plays like a paean to everything I love about hip hop; vivid storytelling, complex, thought-provoking lyrical ideas and the inevitably high production values utilised in a sonically-interesting manner. It sounds like a hip hop record should – a remarkably cohesive body of work given the amount of different producers involved across a sprawling sixteen tracks. Take Lamar’s formidable technical ability into account – and the man is a genuinely superb rapper, effortlessly bending all manner of phonetically complex verses to the beat – and you’ve got a potent reminder of what makes hip hop such a powerful art form. good kid, m.A.A.d. city provides compelling evidence that a rapper in 2012 doesn’t need to rely on pugnacity or publicity stunts to meet with acclaim; there’s a bright future for the genre if more young artists follow Lamar’s lead.

Johnny Don’t Come At All

Written by Sophie Lipton on . Posted in Theatre.

‘Jonny Come Lately’ tells the story of a white working class mother and daughter who pretend to be disabled in order to cheat the system, by living off stolen goods and sponging off society. The women therefore get a shock when a Middle Eastern man played by Amr El-Bayoumi turns up desperate to stay with them for reasons unknown. Throughout the play, he tries to inject his culture into their ignorant lifestyle and treats Britain with respect and dignity. Mixed with right wing political messages, ‘Jonny Come Lately’ sent political sparks through the air implying that immigrants should not always be stereotyped living off the state. However, these cultural, political messages had to be dug up as they were hidden under the poor way the play was directed.

It can’t be ignored that the play was a bit like a GCSE drama performance, which was trying to be overtly pretentious. For instance, the scene changes were un rofessional, and the story line didn’t quite click. This was not what I had expected from ‘Coal’, an award winning company. The techniques used such as physical theatre were only hinted at, and I feel if more of it had been utilised ‘Jonny Come Lately’ may have had more potential. In my opinion ‘Coal’, just about scraped a C minus and had little sparks for a blazing performance.

Despite this, the distinction between the working class women and El-Bayoumi was conveyed well. For instance, El-Bayoumi made Arabian food and explained how he ate it in his country regardless of his language barrier. However, Erika Poole who brought energy to the play with her aggressive, assertive attitude refused to eat ‘foreign’ food, highlighting the ignorance of some of the British population today. The clash of civilizations therefore was portrayed well, and probably one of the only scenes which was ‘A’ grade material, (and Poole can have a gold star).

Amr El-Bayoumi undoubtably brought colour, culture and a bit of comedy to the play, which is pretty impressive as he did not speak English throughout. His movement, and tonality gave him ability to connect with the audience, as he had the talent to act as the most comedic character yet still bring sorrow to his theatrical performance. Similarly Erika Poole also had the ability to transform from an aggressive mother to a severely disabled character, upping the theatrical performances grade.

Unfortunately, ‘Jonny Come Lately’ definitely had potential to be a raw piece of physical theatre. However, its slightly dark, quirky confusing plot left me quite unimpressed, and I definitely did not think it was worthy of an ‘A*’ grade. The acting did improve as the play went on but the jokes did not mature. On that note, Jonny, please don’t come at all.

Retro Corner: Paper Mario 64

Written by Eleanor Jayawant on . Posted in Games.

Like pretty much any other Mario game, the story of Paper Mario begins with Princess Peach being kidnapped by Bowser, King of the Koopas. It is up to Mario to save the Mushroom Kingdom… again. To do this he must gather the seven Star Spirits, scattered throughout the regions, so he can gain the power to overcome Bowser’s new weapon, the mysterious Star Rod. Originally known as Super Mario RPG, Paper Mario is exactly that: a charming RPG with 2D ‘paper’ characters in a 3D world.

The world of Paper Mario is fairly large, with several different areas to explore and eight different allies for Mario to befriend along the way. Throughout the game the player also gets to control Princess Peach, undergoing stealth-based missions within Bowser’s castle to gather information, which is then sent to Mario by a young star named Twink. With each level gained, the player can choose to increase Mario’s Health Points (HP), Flower Points (FP) – used for special moves – or Badge Points (BP). Badges can be equipped in order to gain the special effects they have, at the cost of BP. Another mechanic used in battles is Star Energy. Star Energy allows the player to borrow the power of any Star Spirits Mario has saved.

The battle system itself is slightly flawed, as although Mario fights with allies alongside him it is not possible for the player to switch which character is in front. Character zoom-ins result in ugly splashes of pixelated  colour, and some critics argue that there is not enough in the game to carry the ‘paper theme’. Despite these criticisms, on Nintendo Power’s ‘Best of the Best’ list, Paper Mario scored as the 13th best game for Nintendo 64 of all time, and in 2007, Paper Mario was released for Virtual Console on Wii, where it was second most downloaded game in Japan and most downloaded in the US.

The soundtrack is upbeat and annoyingly catchy, the storyline is brilliant, and the dialogue is often witty. It’s definitely worth playing, and, like all N64 games on Virtual Console, is 1000 points.

Halo 4 – Review

Written by Mancunion on . Posted in Games.

Since the release of Combat Evolved in 2001, the Halo series has in many ways come to define the modern first-person shooter, mixing exciting combat and weapons with an interesting and engaging plot. Now, 5 years after his previous outing against the Covenant, Master Chief returns to fight a whole new enemy in Halo 4.

Five years you ask? Yes believe it or not, despite Wars, ODST, and Reach, 2007 was the last time players got to take charge of the legendary Chief. In game, the gap is just four years, which our favourite Spartan has spent being the 24th century equivalent of a Calippo.  Freshly thawed by AI sidekick Cortana, Chief once again finds himself fighting for Humanity’s future.

The story itself is notably darker than previous outings, much closer in tone to Reach than Halo 3. There is also a bigger focus on the Chief’s feelings and emotions, and particularly the nature of his relationship with Cortana. The game pulls this off quite well, which is an achievement considering Chief famously never removes his helmet. Thus it is entirely down to the voice talent of Steve Downes to make his emotion come across, something he does rather well. There is also a concurrent plot regarding the ways in which Humanity has moved on since the events of Halo 3, and the relevancy of the Chief to this new, more confident UNSC.

If you’ve played anything in Halo series before, you’ll be at home with the gameplay. The controls are largely the same, with the addition of a handy sprint function. And yes, you can still do the hilarious giant Spartan jumps. All your favourite weapons are back, spruced up and shinier than ever before. There are also some additions, notably the weapons of the new antagonists, the Forerunner Prometheans, but the Covenant have a couple of slightly different tools too. These new enemies are one of the highlights of the game. They actively work together, with their 3 forms (packs of dog-like Crawlers, flying Watchers, and the giant Knights) uniting to try and defeat you. For example, busy hammering rounds into a Knight? That’s ok, because he’ll spawn one of the Watchers that then protects him with a shield, or puts up a turret. Then, when you try to shoot it, it flies off, heals, and comes back. The game forces you to adapt your tactics in order to deal with your foes. Also, the Knights can teleport. So enjoy.

Joking aside, the Prometheans are a difficult enemy, and this makes the game rather more fun. Too many shooters today have a tendency to use hordes of enemies with dumb AI, something that Halo 4 thankfully avoids.

The game also offers the chance to drive around in vehicles once again. The Warthog, Scorpion Tank, Wraith, Ghost and oh-so annoying Banshee all return, along with a flight in a human fighter on one level that is akin to the Death Star trench scene from Star Wars, except with more obstacles. Seriously, it took us ages to do it on co-op. Then again maybe we’re a bit rubbish.

As with all games in the Halo series, the levels look beautiful and the game’s graphics engine is excellent. There are huge vistas around every corner, and were it not for the fact that you’re being shot at every 2 minutes, Halo 4 could easily have a mini game where Master Chief pulls out an easel and does some landscape painting.

Along with the graphics, the sound is excellent, with a focus on meatier, more realistic sounding weapons, alongside decent music, although there is less of it than in past games.

One of the real issues with the game is that it is all a bit linear. Despite those marvellous views, you don’t really get to explore much of it yourself. You’re rapidly pushed forward to fight more enemies somewhere else.

In terms of online play, the familiar multiplayer set-up returns, as well as a new series of story-related missions called Spartan Ops. There are also lots of customisation options for you to create your own, unique Spartan-IV. The multiplayer levels themselves are familiar without being boring, and a new system of personal drops to get the best weapons makes things more interesting, rather than the tedious map-scouring of the past.

All in all, Halo 4 is well worth your time and money, and looks to be the start of a brand new chapter in the saga. Based on this instalment, it looks like the franchise is very safe in the hands of 343 Industries.

8 out of 10

Call of Duty: Black Ops 2 – Review

Written by Mancunion on . Posted in Games.

The games in the Call of Duty franchise have a well earned reputation for bombastic insanity, and the latest edition, Call of Duty: Black Ops 2, does not disappoint. From the first moment you are thrust into the head of your grizzled, toned, too-old-for-this protagonist you dispatch a medium sized town’s worth of Angolan MPLA militia, and the action only gets bigger from there.

The story itself alternates between a group of US Navy seals in 2025, and the group of CIA clandestine agents you will remember from the first Black Ops, now operating in the late Cold War.

And yet, for all the Michael Bay-style over the top explosions, Black Ops 2 does something that CoD hasn’t really managed since the first Modern Warfare: weave an engaging narrative and create interesting characters you actually give a damn about. The bad guy is not simply a faceless monster plotting the downfall of the US, and actually has motivations you are driven to understand, even actively sympathize with to some extent. By the end of the game though, you’ll probably genuinely want him dead, even if you can understand where he’s coming from.  For once, our enemy is not that perennial staple of the CoD series, the Russians. In fact they are entirely absent, which makes a refreshing change. Some famous faces from the past and present even put in appearances, but we won’t spoil things by naming anyone in particular here.

The weapons are everything you’d expect from a Black Ops game: a mix of classic Cold War era shooters, and high-tech super guns from the future. The sniper rifle/rail gun that can fire through concrete/a bus/whatever they’re hiding behind was a favourite during the campaign. There are also some nifty gadgets in the missions set in the future, one of which allow you to access kit otherwise unavailable on the map, and so comes in very handy.  These gadgets can be selected as part of a mechanic, which allows you to select and customize your load-out before each mission, which is a nice touch.

The campaign itself remains a somewhat linear affair that fans of the series will be very much used to. There is however an element of choice involved, and your decisions in various missions can affect the outcome of later ones directly, and will potentially affect later games (if there are to be any). Suddenly CoD has gone all Mass Effect on us. One of the other interesting diversions from the main chapters is the new Strike Missions. These essentially task players to complete a set of given objectives, in a given time period, with certain resources, normally a combination of troops and drones/automated emplacements.

The cool part is that you can both take control of individual NPCs (be they human or machine), or you can run the whole show from above, directing units to attack enemies or defend areas on the map. That’s right people; Black Ops 2 now has a real-time strategy element. Like we said earlier, these missions are interesting, and the concept is fun, but they’re also frustrating. When attempting RTS-style overall control, the NPCs are stupid. And we mean stupid. Like constantly head-butting a wall when ordered to attack stupid or walking into a hail of bullets stupid. Basically the computer is a complete moron. Our advice? As the old saying goes, if you want something done well, do it yourself.

The graphics and music are both good, with a soundtrack featuring tracks from Avenged Sevenfold, Elbow and Skrillex, amongst others.

The online multiplayer is pretty much the same as usual, offering a nice mix of slaughtering the enemy and fancy new weapons from the future. Zombies also offers the standard mix of interesting maps, and hordes of the undead for you to murder in their thousands.

In all, Black Ops 2 offers a decent upgrade to the series, and one that we hope to see carried on throughout future games.

9 out of 10

The Staves

Written by Polly Checkland Harding on . Posted in Music.

The astonished silence before the applause: this is what speaking to a band currently enjoying the boost of critical recognition feels like. The Mancunion caught up with Jessica, one of the three Staveley-Taylor sisters who make up The Staves, right before the release of their first album, Dead and Born and Grown. She expressed relieved excitement at the gathering momentum of their success, after years of hard graft: “it’s all just quite surreal, I think. We’re just getting used to people knowing who we are and even wanting to have an opinion on us”. Jessica and her two sisters, Emily and Camilla, have been making music together from their teens; at early gigs in their local Watford pubs, Camilla, who is the youngest, occasionally had to be sneaked in because she was underage. They have since worked their way up from start-out venues to play with the likes of Ben Howard and Michael Kiwanuka. They performed on a trip around America this summer and, most recently, supported Bon Iver on his UK tour, playing to audiences of up to ten thousand people.

Artists like The Staves can face a long road to recognition, in comparison to the pop-up band-brands contrived by major record labels: Jessica noted that the lengthy process often involved “when you approach it from a gigging point of view, as opposed to the more manufactured artists that just kind of appear one day, don’t they, on billboards and stuff, and you’re thinking ‘Oh, where have they come from?’”. When thinking about the place that The Staves want to occupy in today’s music scene, Jessica made a diplomatic distinction between this mode of promotion and their own approach: “on the whole manufactured thing, the celebrity side of things, that’s kind of not what we do – and I think there has been a reaction to that, that people are more interested in hearing the sounds of real instruments and real voices and not hearing too much production and auto tune.”

The Staves’ authentic sound – lucid three-part harmonies, cleansed of over-produced gloss – has been well documented: the simple combination of voice and guitar distinguishes them as perhaps the purest part of a recent backlash against artificiality.

The band had time to talk gender politics, too, with Jessica displaying frustration at the  focus of attention often being on  The Staves’ all-female lineup: “I think it was Joni Mitchell who said “Female isn’t a genre”, but so many people see it as a genre and won’t compare, I don’t know, Bob Dylan and Joni Mitchell to each other – because one’s a man and one’s a woman, they’re in different categories. Which I suppose I find really weird, it doesn’t make any sense to me. We’re often described as a ‘female band’ but they would never describe Coldplay as a ‘male band’.” More worryingly still, she suggested that this attitude remains a factor their reception when gigging: “you think, actually, if we were a band of guys and we had a drum kit and bass, they’d never speak to us like that. They obviously just think that we’re idiots, with long hair, running around.” This testimony to regressive attitudes within a music industry broadly dominated by men is sobering.

More encouragingly, the rise of digital media does offer the potential for a new equality in how bands like The Staves come to be promoted. The shrinking of funds, though in some ways damaging to artists, has prompted the curtailment of extravagant corporate demands. Jessica commends this change: “If you look ten, twenty years ago, the amount of money record companies had to throw around was just obscene, and a band at our level would just be spending insane amounts of money on, I don’t know, limousines, or something completely pointless”. She does admit that this comes with certain downsides: “I mean, we’ll never make any money from what we do, just because of the way things are – you can’t sell as many records as you used to”. This is an observation that echoes the difficulties facing all emerging young professionals today, having to come to terms with the fact that they will achieve less financial success that the previous generation.

Yet this doesn’t seem to have dented The Staves ambition: “I’m not going to say ‘world domination’, but world touring would be amazing. As long as we’re having fun, it’s cool and we’re doing the right thing. There’s no master plan. Keep your head down, get on with it.” Their way of thinking about the future offers a refreshing freedom and pragmatism – but the applause will be no less uproarious.

The Staves play the Ruby Lounge on November 27

 

Bon Iver

Written by Jessica Cusack on . Posted in Music.

As the main lights dimmed on the packed Manchester Arena and the obscure fabric hangings framing the stage became an icy white, we were  transported into the world of Justin Vernon: winter in the woods. His rise to fame is well documented, not a simple rags-to-riches story as such, but one of a log-cabin-in-Wisconsin-to-sell-out-global-success. Opening with the instantly recognisable chords of ‘Perth’ from his self-titled latest album, and accompanied by his brass instrumentalists, we were transfixed. The huge concert hall in which we stood suddenly became the most intimate musical space.

Regaling us with tunes new and old, the band’s latest venture ‘Towers’ stands out as a more traditional, upbeat folk song among his usually raw and sorrowful sounds, while ‘Holocene’ was an unadorned reminder as to the sheer skill and imagination of Vernon’s musical and lyrical ability. ‘Wash’ was appropriately performed amid a rippling ice blue light, similar in its tinkling sounds to ‘Minnesota, WI’. Part of Vernon’s skill as an artist is that he never allows his audience to forget where he began: that cold winter in Wisconsin is present in his song titles, set and most importantly his sound.

‘Creature Fear’ came to a crescendo in a cacophony of sounds, the stage bathed in red light, pre-empting one of his first and most popular hits, ‘Blood Bank’. The heavily auto-tuned yet haunting ‘The Woods’ was performed by Vernon alone on the stage, illuminated by a single white light and recording his own voice via reverb to create layer upon layer of sound which filled the silent arena. Vernon’s speaking voice is surprisingly throaty for someone who can hit such thin high notes, and he kept up an infrequent yet entertaining conversation with the audience: largely responding to people who kept calling him Bon.

There was nothing they could play that would not have wowed the crowd, who were the most still group of people I have ever seen at such a large gig. Vernon’s music and melodies have the power to utterly enchant you, and his sparse, haunting lyrics can move you to tears – as they did the first time I saw the band live. While the difference between the tone of each album is noticeable – his latest Bon Iver is decidedly more upbeat while the debut For Emma, Forever Ago is one of the most pertinent testimonies to heartbreak ever recorded – on stage the songs flowed seamlessly.

With his songs inspired by lost love and his life before Bon Iver marred by illness, Vernon cuts an extremely loveable figure on stage, and truly fulfils the nicest-guy-in-the-world image which seems to have stuck by him, whether he wills it or not. Ending the encore with the sensational ‘Skinny Love’ and ‘For Emma’, I left the arena feeling happy instead of haunted, wishing I were that Emma and noting that it was the start of a very good winter indeed.  

Architects

Written by Ol Urwin on . Posted in Music.

For diehard fans of Architects, this is a fantastic set. The band careens through their kinetic metallic noise, executing exceedingly tricky songs perfectly, while the crowd swells up with intensity, lapping up every moment. This reviewer is a diehard fan, right? Nope.

Rewind an hour or two and support Bury Tomorrow peddle their hackneyed hardcore/metal hybrid with unfathomable aplomb. Clichés abound at almost every juncture. Not good. Melbourne’s Deez Nuts fair slightly better. One only needs to look at their name and song titles (“I Hustle Everyday”, “If You Don’t Know, Now You Know”) to see that they’re indebted to hip hop as much as hardcore punk. It works surprisingly well, with the singer thrusting the mic out to eager fans while the band peals through a half hour set. All well and good, but if you want streetwise punk rock without pretence, Madball are playing twenty minutes away.

There are positives and negatives to Architects’ set. It’s kind of fun to watch the band work their way through shards of metal-esque hardcore, the band sound huge and watching bassist Ali Dean get carried from the stage to back of the room pallbearer-style is pure spectacle. However it’s not fun hearing these towering monstrosities collapse into choruses of cheesy singing with pedestrian structures. It’s also not fun having this happen for fifty minutes. No matter what songs they’re picking from their catalogue, it begins to dawn, that all these songs sound very, very similar. When they get it right, they get it so right; the discordant bludgeoning of Early Grave could bring the venue down at any moment, but when it devolves into a tired attempt at catchiness, it’s less than satisfying. Sadly, Architects’ live show is not enough to save them from the structural problems of their weary songs – back to the drawing board, guys.


Warehouse Watch – RBMA x WHP

Written by Toby Wareham on . Posted in Music.

The Red Bull Music Academy came to town last Friday, joining forces with Warehouse Project to produce one of the most enticing line ups seen in Manchester all year. We arrived just after eleven, narrowly missing German legend Prosumer. The former Panorama Bar resident didn’t appear best pleased about being the given the graveyard shift of 7.30-11, but then on a night dense with such diverse, talented performers, something had to give. Escaping from the OTT UK bass stylings in room two, Benji B provided welcome relief with his eclectic, African-tinged selections. After briefly poking our head into the Red Bull room, we made our way, tentatively, to try and catch Flying Lotus in room one.

Now, I’ve always favour small and intimate venues over big and busy, so maybe my opinion’s rendered a little invalid, but all the same… room 1 was a nightmarish experience. Full to bursting, sweat dripping from the ceiling, the performers’ sound just a muffled bass frequency lest you risk elbowing past the angry, sodden masses to the front of the floor. It would have been at least bearable, but Flying Lotus, capable of either brilliance or self-indulgence depending on his mood, totally opted for the latter. Playing a mixture of grime, dubstep and ‘swag’ rap, he spent more time jumping round the stage shouting into a Britney-style microphone than paying attention to the god awful tunes coming from his laptop. Where were the tracks from his superb recent LP? We didn’t stick around to find out, making for the now relatively empty confines of room two, where Ben UFO was, as ever, striking a perfect balance between familiar Hessle sounds and classic house and techno. The night kept getting better from there, in fact: Shed’s revered live set fully lived up to its billing, brutal at points but as intricate, bombastic and classy as the multi-monikered German’s productions would imply.

Floating Points provided a perfect end to the evening, expertly blending his now trademark 130 bpm disco cuts with tribal rhythms, samba, and finally deep house brilliance from the likes of Pepe Bradock and Soul Capsule. The night, then, was a qualified success: most of the big hitters on the line up delivered, and the atmosphere and crowd was about as good as I’ve seen at WHP (discounting DJ Harvey’s glorious return last month). That said, while room one has always served a specific purpose at Warehouse Project – keeping the dickheads away from the deeper offerings in smaller rooms – it was just unbearable at time on Friday. The promoters would do well to learn from clubs like Trouw in Amsterdam, or even Canal Mills in Leeds, on how to make big room clubbing a more enjoyable experience. A better air conditioner would be a start.

Anthrax

Written by Charlie Boydell-Smith on . Posted in Music.

6th November 2012, Apollo

3/10

Music is subjective, and the fact that Anthrax have amassed over fifteen million in album sales is a testimony to their popularity amongst heavy rock fans. Tonight’s performance, however, highlights the very fine line between heavy rock song writing and unintelligible noise.  On a joint tour with rock legends Motorhead, the fact that many of the attendees are sporting earplugs sends a message that sometimes even the fans have trouble with the barrage of din emanating from the abundance of Marshall Amps populating the Apollo’s stage.

Opening their set with a flurry of new songs from 2011’s Worship Music, the crowd create a sea of devil horns which are thrusted in time to the power chords that dominate opening numbers ‘Earth on Hell’, ‘Fight Em Till You Can’t’ and ‘Antisocial’. The chorus to ‘Antisocial’ is essentially a description of the ‘greebos’ in attendance. There is one in every hall of residence, every place of work and every college classroom in the country, the giveaway being an unkempt moustache, the owner of which is ready to donate it to the nearest pubic wig factory.

The sight of lead singer Joey Belladonna in an Indian headdress that was given to him by a member of the crowd lends some much needed comedy to the repeated refrain of ‘Die for the Indians’ during crowd favourite ‘Indians’, but Anthrax are capable of crafting listenable songs and are at their best when their output is more melodic, rather than just a case of playing their instruments fast and loud.

Lead guitarist Rob Caggiano has time to berate those sitting in the balcony, before asking “Are you ready for the law?” and instructs them to “Get off your asses and bang your heads” before launching into popular song ‘I Am The Law’.

Their set moves quickly, but lacks clarity and is at times incredibly dull, leaving those in attendance with sore ears, painful necks and fingers locked in a permanent salute to the devil.

Sea of Bees

Written by Polly Checkland Harding on . Posted in Music.

‘I’m no big deal’. This is the tagline for singer-songwriter Julie Ann Baenziger’s Sea of Bees blog, last updated in 2010. Though honest, such self-effacement is discouraging – particularly when facing near two hours attention to Baenziger’s music. The crowd in the womb-walled Night and Day Café is sparse, though there is a little line of devotees to the right of the stage who tell me they’ve followed Jules Bee, as she’s otherwise known, around the UK to see her play.

Still, muted cheers rise when the band arrive, unannounced. The flat planes of Baenziger’s face emerge from an eighties hair halo as her mouth makes its way around the big notes of ‘Skinnybone’. With two albums under her belt, Baenziger’s voice has an obvious agility, hooking the top notes like whisky from a high self, but her words become smudged by the stoner’s slur of her Californian accent. It is a strange, eccentric sound from someone who presents themselves so plainly: Baenziger wears a jarring red check-shirt and sludge-coloured trouser combo. The set list is a discordant compilation of songs from Baenziger’s two albums, Songs for the Ravens and, most recently, Orangefarben, the willfully cryptic title meaning ‘orange-coloured’ in German.

Baenziger alternates between the wild, unexpected melodies of songs like ‘Gnomes’, and the more straightforward pulses of ‘Broke’ or ‘Girl’. Two thirds through, a lady in baby blue weaves into the space before the stage and begins to wiggle to the music, wagging one sassy finger. Beneath fairy lights that go nuts at steady intervals, experimental folk is being danced to disastrously badly. The effect is terrible and comic in the worst way. Watched over by and absurd and ancient moose head, Sea of Bees slides into its only predictable end: oblivion.

5 songs in the field of…footwear

Written by Tom Ingham on . Posted in Music.

‘Diamonds on the soles of her shoes’ – Paul Simon

Surely the whole point of wearing diamonds is to attract jealousy from unsuspecting onlookers who are much less fortunate than yourself. It’s a vulgarian display of the highest order. Well actually, this girl was so stinking rich she just stuck them on the bottom of her shoes – why? Because she could.

‘(Angels wanna wear my) Red Shoes’ – Elvis Costello

As cool as Elvis Costello is, I don’t think that he can pull of red shoes. No matter who you are or what you’ve got on, you’ll look ridiculous. Even Father Christmas himself opts for a more dignified black pair. Let the angels have them if you ask me, unless you are in actual fact Noddy, steer well clear!

‘Boogie Shoes’ – KC & the Sunshine Band

Although KC don’t specify exactly what shoes constitutes a ‘boogie shoe’ I think it’s safe to assume that even a pair of Crocs would do the trick when you’ve got a groove like this. Beware though, once you put them boogie shoes on, they’re not coming off! One size fits all.

‘Blue Suede Shoes’ – Elvis Presley

Elvis was a pretty fashionable chap, but not the most practical when it came to footwear I have to say. When you’ve got to wade through endless streams of fluids from you’re crazed female fans after every gig, the last thing you want to be wearing is suede – an absolute nightmare to clean!

‘Fairies Wear Boots’ – Black Sabbath

It’s quite hard to picture Tinkerbell wearing a pair of Doc Martens. I guess once you’ve taken as many drugs as Ozzy has then it isn’t totally inconceivable. I like to imagine that when Sharon isn’t around, it’s these fairies who help him through the day-to-day turmoil of being Ozzy Ozbourne.

Live: The Joy Formidable

Written by Joe Goggins on . Posted in Music.

1st November 2012, Manchester Arena

7/10

Irrespective of whether or not you’re familiar with The Joy Formidable, you likely did a double take at seeing their name next to ‘Manchester Arena’; they’re not here on the own authority just yet, with tonight’s show being part of a slew of support slots to Muse, providing them the opportunity to emerge from a self-imposed studio break to roadtest new material from next January’s sophomore Wolf’s Law LP.

The Joy Formidable aren’t really a band given to spending time off the road; they’ve toured relentlessly over the past five years, to the extent that they seem almost to have become a permanent fixture on Mancunian gig guides, racking up an impressive number of shows in the city and cultivating an imposing live reputation in the process.

They last appeared in town at a sold-out Academy 2 headline show on their first album’s UK victory lap, but there’s nothing particularly jarring about the manner in which the bridge the capacity chasm. Their stage presence is completely arresting; they’re not the most nuanced band in the world, by any means, but they play with such vigour and abandon that it’s difficult to care – this is a band that once turned rock n roll convention on its head by smashing their gear at the start of the set, rather than the end, at Leeds Festival two years ago.

They pick up, tonight, where they left off on record, opening with ‘The Greatest Light Is The Greatest Shade’, which closed last year’s debut, The Big Roar; with shimmering guitars cascading over a simple, relentless keyboard riff that rings out like a siren. It kicks off a set dominated by older cuts that showcase both sides of the band’s modus operandi; ‘Austere’ and ‘Cradle’ are short, sharp, hook-driven and poppy, while ‘The Everchanging Spectrum of a Lie’ is a more controlled, deliberate effort, holding off on reaching its swirling, guitar-driven crescendo until the song’s fifth minute. Letting it down, though, is its incongruous placement in the middle of the set; it feels like far more of a drag than it should played between two of the band’s snappier efforts.

There’s a couple of new tracks aired, in the form of already-released internet singles ‘Cholla’ and ‘This Ladder Is Ours’; the former’s bombastic riff is worthy of tonight’s headliners, but the latter sounds as if they’ve hit autopilot, vocals getting lost in the turgid guitars. Both, perhaps due to their novelty, meet with a muted response. They close, almost obligatorily at this point, with their party piece, ‘Whirring’, which was proclaimed by Dave Grohl to be his favourite song of last year and features a genuinely thrilling extended instrumental outro, frontwoman Ritzy Bryan somehow managing to produce twenty guitars’ worth of sound out of just the one, producing a maelstrom of reverb crashed over by drums that, through the arena’s potent soundsystem, sound closer to heavy artillery. The Joy Formidable already have a slew of songs written for these kinds of rooms; next year’s second album might prove the litmus test as to whether they’ll also have the necessary longevity.

 

The Second Sex

Written by Jessica Cusack on . Posted in Fashion & Beauty.

The fashion and beauty worlds are somewhat rare in the realm of multi-billion pound global industries in that they place women at the forefront of their business. ‘Male Beauty’ has to be specified; much like ‘Women Voters’ are singled out in politics. But it would be foolish to dismiss the male beauty industry as completely secondary to that of the female. Historically, men have always been at the forefront of the beauty scene – just think of images of the court of Louis XIV in the 16th century, or the prevailing image of Michelangelo’s ‘David’ which still stands as an emblem of male beauty. But it wasn’t until 1994 that the term ‘metrosexual’ was coined, opening up a whole other can of worms.

Metrosexuality has lead to the popularisation of ‘guyliner’ and ‘manscara’, and while it is true that such make-up products are not every man’s cup of tea, their popularity has been staggering. But skin care is where the beauty industry for men has really taken off. While it is common for most women to use face wipes, cleanser, exfoliator, anti-wrinkle cream, serum, night cream, day cream, eye cream (I could go on), the majority of men will never come into contact with such things – or even have heard of them. Capitalising on men’s ignorance of such products, and indeed their curiosity about them, are brands such as Nivea, Dove and No.7, among others. Of course the marketing is stereotypically ‘masculine’: black and charcoal grey packaging, names like ‘Aqua Impact’ and ‘Fresh Awake’, and of course the ubiquitous gorgeous female draping herself longingly around this bloke who’s just dabbed a bit of moisturiser on his face, smiling knowingly at you from the side of a bus. Funny how advertisers still assume (or perhaps recognise) that men need an incentive – namely sex – to shift beauty products.

But what’s a boy to do amid these new and potentially scary packages? My advice is go for it. It’s about time guys started looking after their skin as much as they do their hair, especially when skin, as the biggest organ in the body (see Issue 6), is far more important. I don’t see any shame, or indeed emasculation, in taking such a step. Personally, I don’t really go for a hair-straightening, fake-tan-applying, body-hair-shaving kinda guy (unless you’re Michael Phelps) but each to their own, and judging by the amount of Joey Essex look-a-likes walking around these days it’s obvious they’re pleasing someone. Men shouldn’t be afraid to look after themselves; it doesn’t taint your masculinity or your sexuality – if you’re of the straight persuasion – to do so. Plus, if the adverts are anything to go by, using face wash once in while is going to make you the next Don Juan so you may as well grab the bull by the horns, as it were. If you got it, flaunt it.

Day-Trippers Society

Written by Kate Bullivant on . Posted in Societies.

The Day-Trippers Society promotes casual cycling in a fun and safe environment. It’s a great way to get out and enjoy the city of Manchester for those that love cycling, but hate lycra. Ben Parker is the Chair of the Society, ‘There was no society for the simple commuter/casual cyclist, so last year I decided to start one up, at the moment we have 150 members and everyone and anyone is welcome to come along and get involved.”

The society organises regular cycling trips in and around Manchester, usually to a pub or cafe, so it’s a great way to get to know the city and to get out of  the ‘Fallowfield bubble.’ As well as these regular trips the society is also trying to organise bike workshops: ‘These are workshops where people are taught how to fix their own bikes for free, except for the cost of parts. We aim to have a full set of tools by Christmas, so we can hold workshops every Saturday and Sunday.”

The Cycling Society also takes part in ‘Critical Mass’, each month. This is where 300-400 cyclists take to the streets of Manchester and clog up the city centre for an hour or two. Originally started in San Francisco in 1992, ‘Critical Mass’ now takes place in over 300 cities around the world. It is organised as a social movement, where a local picks a date, time and a place and people just get cycling.

Most societies hold socials as separate events, but the Day-Trippers Society sees its cycle trips as its social. “Cycling is such a great way for people to meet one another and share their passion for cycling. But for all the party animals out there we are organising a Christmas party which will be announced shortly.”

If you want to get involved with the society of ‘Critical Mass’ then look at their Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/mudsoc?fref=tsor email Ben Parker: [email protected]