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Day: 11 November 2014

Album: Hookworms – The Hum

Released 11th October

Weird World/Domino Records

6/10

Leeds rockers Hookworms are a truly collaborative effort. By choosing to be named by their initials as individuals, the band shuns the ‘rock-star’ trope in their ego-free, DIY, improvisation-led compositions. It is rare in the days of the radio-friendly single and the shuffle-friendly album to hear records with such a sense of unity, feeling like a polished jam that just happened to be picked up by an array of microphones. The all-guns-blazing energy of The Hum is balance by ambient noodlings, tying the whole album into a fuzzy free-flowing whole. This builds on, and largely imitates the critically-acclaimed formula of their previous record, Pearl Mystic.

The lo-fi vocals sound as through they were recorded through a builder’s radio turned up to 11, blending seamlessly with the instrumentals. Drums are full and drive the whole album along like a freight train at breakneck speed. Guitars are dynamic and colorful. Organs and synths are crystalline in their contrast. The resulting wash of sound is underpinned by a bubbling energy, threatening to boil over at any moment into anarchy.

‘The Impasse’ opens with an oscillating wave of synths that are quickly pushed aside by a cacophonous, head-banging groove with screaming, distorted vocals. ‘Off-Screen’ offers a moment of respite with some beautifully delicate vocals over subtle percussion and a melodic bassline, and smacks of classic shoe-gaze bands such as My Bloody Valentine. The album closes with ‘Retreat’, a cheerful, almost surfy tune which is stark in its contrast to the rest of the record.

This album is great for all the same reasons we loved Pearl Mystic—great contrasts between convoluted noise and crystal clear melodies, screaming punk and sensitive vocalisings. Hell, it could have even been recorded in the same session. And therein lies my only criticism: it is difficult to observe any real development in what by all accounts is a great aesthetic. Be excited for the record to drop and give it a listen, but if you’ve heard or loved Pearl Mystic, don’t expect a challenge.

Album: Annie Lennox – Nostalgia

October 27th 2014

Island Records

5/10

Pioneer of the new wave scene, Annie Lennox could perhaps be forgiven for wanting to produce something a little less experimental. Her latest offering, Nostalgia, is just that. Lennox certainly takes on the early soul and jazz of the Great American Songbook with style, but ends up producing something that will make a great stocking filler for your Mum.

At its best the album is strong, breathing life into songs often covered but rarely covered well. ‘Memphis in June’, the album’s first track, immediately exhibits the power of Lennox’s vocal range and ability. Evidencing soul unlike anything she has released before, the vocal soars over an innovative arrangement.

The same can be said of the reinvention of ‘Georgia On My Mind’. The arrangement again evokes the songs emotive power while the voice is powerful and dramatic. ‘I Put a Spell on You’ lacks the grit of either Nina Simone or Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, but again is perfect for your Mum. Easy on the ears, yes, but impressive nonetheless.

‘Summertime’ is one of the more interesting songs on the album; subverting expectation of the Gershwin classic, the song is stripped right back to the bare bones, Lennox accompanied by a piano and not much more. It’s a nice twist on a widely performed piece of music, one that I didn’t see coming and that is a welcome surprise.

The main criticism of the album is that, in places, it seriously lacks authenticity. Perhaps it is an unfair critique of the Scottish singer to suggest that her interpretation lacks the soul of Billie Holiday, but listen to ‘Strange Fruit’ and I’m sure you’ll agree. Likewise the life is somewhat sucked out of ‘I Cover the Waterfront’, a song brilliantly covered elsewhere by Van Morrison.

I’ve no doubt that issues regarding authenticity will be passed off with the argument that ‘it’s just a different interpretation’. This is fine, however it is undermined by the problem it is simply a worse, less gripping retelling of great songs. The impression I was left with from Nostalgia was one of wishing I had listened to the songs in their original format, rather than on yet another Great American Songbook album.

Live: Midge Ure

26th October

The Lowry

8/10

Best known for his work in classic new wave acts Visage and Ultravox, as well as his involvement in the ground breaking Live Aid and Band Aid campaigns, Midge Ure has been a household name and music industry stalwart for over thirty years. Though he made his name playing his trademark brand of anthemic synthpop in stadiums and arenas the world over, his latest theatre tour delivers a much more modest and intimate experience. Playing solo and armed with only an acoustic guitar, Ure performs stripped down renditions of hits from across his vast and varied back catalogue, and the result is a reminder of the durability and timelessness of his best loved songs.

Openers ‘Waiting Days’ and ‘Dear God’ immediately proved that Ure was still on form as a performer; his voice—though admittedly deepened by ageing—has lost none of its famous power. This fact wasn’t lost on the man himself, as he jokingly alluded several times to wishing he could go back in time and “stop himself writing songs in such high keys.” The show’s setlist kept a healthy balance between fan favourites (‘Fade to Grey’, ‘Vienna’, ‘If I Was’, ‘Brilliant’) and self-indulgence (his heartfelt rendition of Peter Green’s ‘Man of the World’). After inviting the audience to join in, one of the night’s most memorable moments came with ‘The Voice’, as the crowd’s “whoah-oh” backing vocals lent an eerie dimension to the song, turning a former new romantic track into something otherworldly, sounding something like a cross between a sea shanty and a Tibetan monk chant.

‘Lament’ and ‘Dancing with Tears in My Eyes’ worked especially well when transformed into acoustic ballads, the latter of which saw Ure intricately alternating between recreating the famous synth line and strumming full chords without missing a beat. As the performance came to a close, fans were treated to a rare performance of ‘Do They Know Its Christmas’, which surprisingly holds up as a solid pop song without its dated production, ending the evening on a light hearted sing-along.

Overall, the acoustic set was a fun nostalgia trip, and turned out to be a treat for both his long-time fans and Ure himself, who clearly enjoyed recalling moments from his long and storied career in front of a warm and appreciative audience.

Classic Review: Gilda

There were a lot of films of the film noir genre which were released in the mid-1940s and this reflected many attitudes during and after the Second World War. Filmed in black and white and set in Buenos Aires, Argentina, just as World War Two ended, Gilda does not have the typical Hollywood narrative of equilibrium-disequilibrium-equilibrium. In fact, you could even argue that there is no narrative structure at all, that some events happen in the film out of nowhere, leading you to surprise or befuddlement.

This film stars Rita Hayworth as the central character of Gilda, represented with the suggestion that she is the femme fatale character because she is the only female you ever really get to know at all; there is no questioning as to why that is. The femme fatale in this film is portrayed in a different light because you feel empathy for her. This contrasts with most femme fatales you may have come across, such as Barbara Stanwyck’s character Phyllis Dietrichson in Double Indemnity, where you do not at all see the struggles of the femme fatale and therefore cannot empathise or experience any particular emotions for her. You come to accept the punishment of the femme fatale because she has done wrong, favouring the male protagonist, who is the wronged one. In Gilda, however, you do empathise with the femme fatale, because you see her fall victim to the character of Johnny (Glenn Ford), her love. Gilda is subjected to punishment at numerous points in the film, which in some respect makes you truly feel sorry for her. This is subject to opinion, however.

What I have found most intriguing about this film is the relationship between the two central male characters, Johnny and Ballin (George Macready) which you could somewhat describe as homoerotic. Several scenes are accompanied by visual innuendos; the weapon that Ballin had called his “little friend” hints at the third person in Ballin and Johnny’s relationship when Gilda is not present, leading us to the idea that this relationship is more than just a friendship. You might compare the weapon as possessing similarities to Gilda, who is the object of desire for both of these characters in this film.

All in all, I think this film is a must-watch. There is a lot that can be read in this film and so many possible interpretations to be found, viewing after viewing, that it is certainly a classic. And if you haven’t seen it, well, what’s stopping you?

Feature: Hollywood and Science

“We look at Hollywood now, I mean, can you imagine Hollywood producing a film with such weight as 2001: A Space Odyssey? I guess we get the cinema we deserve; we’re looking into the mirror. It’s very sad,” argues Anthony Frewin at the Watch the Skies! flagship event in the BFI Blockbuster project SCI-FI: Days of Fear and Wonder at the Jodrell Bank Observatory. Those might be strong words, but he was the personal assistant to the director Stanley Kubrick for 20 years and worked on five of his films. Looking at current trends in the film industry, it is apparent that sci-fi movies are on the verge again. Recent films such as Prometheus, Gravity and Interstellar, which is premiering this weekend in the UK, show on the Box Offices worldwide that their popularity is high, but the budgets are even higher. The $10.6 million Budget of 2001: A Space Odyssey was meagre compared to the budgets of over $100 million for Gravity and Interstellar. To put the numbers into perspective: even the Indian space mission to Mars with a $74 million budget cost less than the making of Gravity. Although it is debatable whether the priorities of human beings are agreeable, it does not mean that there is not any science involved in the making of a film and that they do not inspire more interest and awareness in the field of astronomy or other science.

Science and film often go hand in hand; all of the aforementioned films had prestigious scientists from Harvard or Caltech on set to ensure content accuracy. David A. Kirby, a senior lecturer at The University of Manchester published the popular physics book, Lab Coats in Hollywood—Science, Scientists and Cinema, in which he claims that 2001: A Space Odyssey is perhaps the most scientifically accurate film ever produced. The breathtaking sequences in space seem so realistic because of the co-operation with two former NASA scientists and the more than 65 companies, research organisations, and government agencies that offered technical advice. The relation between science and Hollywood is often more complex than initially apparent and a mutual need to close the gap between science fact and science fiction pushes both sides to work together closely. Although it might first seem that Hollywood profits more from scientists, the depictions of science in popular films can promote research agendas, stimulate technological development, and even stir citizens into political action, writes Kirby. Filmmakers with a smaller budget, who cannot afford specialists from NASA, should not despair because websites such as www.hollywoodmaths.com will help to ensure that “the technical details and jargon in your script sound believable, whether they be mathematical, scientific or medical.”

The gravity of science (pun intended) does not stop at science fiction movies; science consultants help to give comic book adaptations, TV shows—such as Fringe and The Big Bang Theory—and video games a more realistic finish. The Science and Entertainment Exchange is a programme run by the United States National Academy of Sciences to increase public awareness, knowledge, and understanding of science through its representation in television, film, and other media in order to rid the public of false perceptions on these topics. Although the aspirations are often high and science fiction films such as 2001: A Space Odyssey, Blade Runner and Alien mostly succeeded in being scientifically accurate, it is important to remember that the film industry’s first priority is entertainment. If the scientific accurate portrayal is too complex, the risk that the film might turn out too incomprehensible for an audience is high. Christopher Nolan’s Interstellar, for example, is based on Einstein’s general relativity equations and might have turned out visually incomprehensible to the audience, but he luckily solved the problem by staying consistent with the camera perspective. Gravity, on the other hand, is a “piece of fiction” with some inaccuracies, but with a very realistic portrayal of zero gravity.

The rise in popularity of science fiction films also has a positive effect on the decreasing numbers of cinema goers. 2001: A Space Odyssey or Gravity have a bigger effect on the audience on a big screen than streamed online on a small laptop screen. At the Watch the Skies! event, 2001: A Space Odyssey was shown in an open air installation with HAL projected on the Lovell Telescope, the third largest steerable radio telescope in the world. The atmosphere was buzzing and the film got a whole new meaning while being watched outside with stars and a full moon in the background. The vastness of space became more apparent and the science fair and introduction by Stanley Kubrick’s personal assistant made the experience invaluable. Science clearly helps us to appreciate films more and its influence will hopefully be more appreciated in the future.

Instagram: Friend or foe?

Hi, my name is Natalie. And I am an Instagram addict. I say this because when the sacred 3G symbol at the top of my iPhone disappears, Wi-Fi is ‘unable to connect’, and I am forsaken in what might as well be Siberia, I begin to experience a cold sweat. I start thinking irrationally. “Oh God, what if Kendall Jenner posts something, what if I never see it?! What if this is the end?”

The  ‘insta’ aspect of Instagram is as much a blessing as it is a curse. Watching, interacting, experiencing the real world has been rather brutally usurped by an unhealthy obsession with an app that never sleeps. I’m like a drug addict with a constant and boundless stream of heroin at my eager and helpless fingertips. I am forever being told off by my boyfriend for ‘cyber stalking’ celebrities. But I don’t think he quite understands…

And I don’t think I am alone. It is so popular that apparently the founder of Instagram, Kevin Systrom, would only consider selling his non-profit app to Mark Zuckerburg, the founder of Facebook, for a minimum of 2 billion dollars. There are about 200 million monthly users and approximately 5 million posts made a day. I myself am just shy of following 1000 accounts. A figure made up of numerous models, fashion bloggers, fashion houses, magazines, Z-list celebrities; I even follow Paris Hilton’s dog (Peter Pan) and Cara Delevinge’s bunny (Cecil). It is direct, seemingly personal and, most importantly, free—hallelujah! I don’t have to scrape at the bottom of my bag for moldy one-penny coins so I can afford this month’s issue of Vogue, because yes, I am a student, and yes, I am a 12th-century-peasant kind of poor.

And because I will never be Anna Wintour or Anna Della Russo, Instagram enables me to sit with the elite ‘frow’ on every major fashion house’s catwalk. So fine, maybe I need a good 14-day Instagram detox, and should try and overcome my (very 21st century) anxiety. But I’m not deleting my Instagram account any time soon. Sorry boyfriend.

Briefly Exploring Chester

This week Robert was meant to venture into Moss Side. However, he chickened out so instead here’s a very brief guide to Manchester’s smaller, not so masculine, slightly southern companion, Chester. (It’s not as atrocious or exciting as Hollyoaks makes it look.)

When you leave Chester’s Railway station the first thing you realise is how empty it is. Then you see the Live Rooms which hosts acts such as The Smyths, and Dirty DC, as well as a range of middle-aged men and women who were once part of famous bands in the 80s and 90s. Then suddenly you’re in the centre and there are groups of tourists blocking your way taking photos of the Eastgate and Eastgate Clock, probably because their guidebook tells them it’s the second most photographed clock in England after Big Ben and that way they’re giving something back to the place they’re visiting. Then you’re down a street and it’s silent again and you probably pass a sex shop with two plastic mannequins handcuffed together.

If you’ve been to York, it looks like that, only smaller. There are lots of expensive, chain boutique shops which appear with an expectancy that is usually only reserved for McDonald’s in every former spa/market town in England. There are lots of too-small tea rooms selling many varieties of coffee and panini at shocking prices. You can even have a sightseeing tour of Chester on an open top bus, although you could walk it just as quickly, and it would probably be raining.

At night time muscular men wearing smart shirts go out with women wearing faces full of makeup and beige and salmon dresses which are moulded to their skin. They go to expensive bars, which you could frequent anywhere, and take lots of pictures and sometimes dance to one song. Or they go to one of the three nightclubs, such as Rosie’s, where celebrities like Joel Corry DJ et al show off their bronzed abs and tweet about “buzzing for #Chester 2nite!” because it’s just another “big start to the weekend!”

Whatever you do, don’t miss the Halloween party though; last year two girls dressed as the Twin Towers and won £150 worth of shopping vouchers (it wasn’t really worth it). In Chester the possibilities are infinite: Cruise, yet another nightclub, offers you six different areas to experience: Manhattan, Bangkok, the Mediterranean and even more in one building… in North West England.

If it gets a bit overwhelming there’s no need to panic. Liverpool is just a £4.60 return trip away if you’ve got a railcard and it’s not much more than £10 to get a return trip to Chester’s big bro if you book a week in advance. My top tip is save the money and just get a single out of there: the university may be the sixth safest in the UK (whilst Manchester is frequently named the worst for crime outside of London) but all in all, YOLO has never seemed so necessary.

Turner Prize 2014

Just around the corner is this year’s announcement of the 2014 Turner Prize, one of the UK’s most prestigious art awards, celebrating a British artist under fifty for an outstanding exhibition or other presentation of their work in the preceding twelve months. The winner will be announced on 1st December 2014 by a panel of four judges and will also receive a prize of £25000. Previous winners include some of the UK’s most well-known artists.

Winning in 1994 was the sculptor Antony Gormley, whose best known works include the infamous The Angel of The North in Gateshead. His sculptures currently reside throughout the UK, making him one of the most renowned British sculptors.

The following year, controversial artist Damien Hirst took the winning prize for his preservation of animals (sometimes dissected) in formaldehyde. However, his work wasn’t welcomed throughout the world. New York public health officials banned one of his exhibitions entitled Two Fucking and Two Watching featuring a rotting cow and bull, because of fears of “vomiting among the visitors.”

Last year Laure Prouvost won the Turner Prize for her installation entitled Wantee, a film set at a tea party describing a fictional relationship between Prouvost’s Grandfather and artist Kurt Schwitters. It was considered “outstanding” by the panel of judges and the UK is waiting to see what her next work will be.

This year celebrates the 30th anniversary of the prize and with four artists nominated for almost everything, from film to live performance, it will definitely be a year to remember.

Top Five: Horror Works

5) The Room – Hubert Selby Jr.

After writing this novel, Hubert Selby himself could not read it again for 20 years. Reviewer Chris Mitchell claimed the book made him physically sick. An unnamed insignificant criminal, whilst trapped in his cell, explores his twisted feelings and fantasises of rancid revenges.

4) The Metamorphosis – Franz Kafka

One day a travelling salesman named Gregor Samson wakes up to find himself transformed into a monstrous insect creature. The rest of the novella, published in 1915, deals with Gregor’s attempt to come to terms with his new physical body. Although he quickly gets used to his new appearance, his family slowly learn to at first love him and then doubt whether it really is Gregor anymore. The story ends with Gregor dying from lack of nourishment.

3) The Raven – Edgar Allan Poe

One of the most famous poems ever written has moments of horror in it. A raven taunts the unnamed narrator who is grieving over his love loss, Lenore. The raven is said to have been inspired by Charles Dickens’ novel Barnaby Rudge: A Tale of the Riots of Eighty. The poem saw Poe reach national fame but he never saw this fame converted into monetary wealth.

2) Dracula – Bram Stoker

This week marks 167 years since the birth of Bram Stoker and his most renowned work Dracula is one of the best horror novels ever to be written. The story follows Count Dracula and his quest to travel to England from Transylvania in order to acquire more victims’ blood. Stoker is credited with defining the modern form of a vampire in this book.

1) It – Stephen King

Stephen King, like Garth Marenghi, seems to have actually written more books than he has read, none scarier than his 1986 horror novel, It. The titular character causes seven children to confront their fears face-to-face by shapeshifting into their worst nightmare. The novel was adapted into a television film starring Tim Curry as Pennywise. King was presented the British Fantasy award in 1987 for his efforts.

Dylan Thomas’ Centenary

The 27th October 2014 marked the Centenary of Dylan Thomas’ birth in Swansea, Wales. Thomas, who has been coined Swansea’s most famous son, was set to have his life and works celebrated at his birthplace, but the celebrations did not end there. If you were to type in his name into any search engine right now it would be flooded with events and festivals all marking this one individual’s life and work. Perhaps the most notorious celebration leading from Thomas’ centenary is Michael Sheen’s production of Thomas’ own Under Milk Wood which made its New York debut on Sunday 26th October; it was also widely broadcasted live to both television and radio, and other broadcastings are set to follow. The Hollywood actor stars in the ‘play for voices’ and is the first on the stage where it was originally premièred in 1953.

Returning the debut of this infamous play to its home in New York is widely fitting as it was where much of his first productions were staged and eventually where Thomas himself died. Meanwhile, the coinciding live readings and televised viewings ensured that Swansea’s most famous son would not go amiss in his birthplace. But Swansea had more to offer in the mark of celebration as Swansea held its very own ‘Dylathon’. An event which saw all of his work including his poems, short stories, scripts and broadcasts performed over 36 hours at Swansea’s Grand Theatre. Thus, as Sheen said on the centenary, it was widely celebrated, “in both New York—a city that became so important to Dylan—and, at the same time, in Wales, his inspiration and home.”

As can be denoted from the unprecedented amount of celebrations the world over, Thomas’ impact on both the literary world and the world itself is broad and powerful. While Dylan Marlais Thomas was popular in his life time, his work remained vastly popular and disputed after his premature death from pneumonia, aged 39, on 9th November 1953 in New York. Whilst Thomas wrote exclusively in the English language he is still recognised as one of the key Welsh poets of the 20th century. His accessibility, in part through the use of the English language, is vital to his place as one of the greatest modern poets but his witty idioms and ingenious imagery continue to give life to his work. Thomas has multiple works under his belt from the poem And Death Shall Have No Dominion, to the play Under Milk Wood and into prose: A Child’s Christmas in Wales.

While his work is capacious and compelling, Thomas himself did come under fire in his later life as a “roistering, drunken and doomed poet,” a reputation which he humorously encouraged, and perhaps this was his downfall in the world of academia. An issue that is often discussed with regards to Thomas in regards to critical study is the cloud of mythology that now surrounds Thomas and his drunken persona. But despite the dismissal of many academic figures on Thomas’ work, it continues to be embraced by readers and he remains an iconic poet and even a public name.

While his identity as a popular poet has been and continues to be discussed, it is his work that holds the true legacy. Thomas’ refusal to align to any literary group or movement ensured his work was capacious and innovative. One of his most famous poems, And Death Shall Have No Dominion, celebrates the undying eternal strength of human spirit. However, another key focus of this poem is the unifying reality of death. As Thomas’ identity was disputed as a poet and a public figure, the first of the three un-rhymed verses in this poem allows Thomas to tackle human identity and its opponents, (essentially the ‘isms’ of the world today from racism to sexism and onwards). Thomas states that the process of death unites humanity: “Dead men naked they shall be one.” Even as Dylan brings us face to face with death he disarms it. There is beauty and courage behind death and as I see it there is only one appropriate way that any remark on the life of Thomas should end.

His death shall have no dominion as his voice remains immortal.

Live: St. Vincent

22nd October

Albert Hall

6.5/10

Stepping into a distinctly middle-aged presence at the Albert Hall, one of Manchester’s newest and most highly regarded venues, I find a surprisingly simple stage set-up consisting of a single small pyramid of stairs—nothing more. Since its debut last year, the Albert Hall has presented an extremely impressive repertoire of artists who, on the whole, benefit from the venue’s superior sound system, light rigging and gothic ambience. However, for St. Vincent’s aims at a minimalist performance, the venue’s grandeur seems to engulf rather than compliment.

The venue’s brash personality means that, for a show to truly excel here, artists need a crafted and characteristic performance that squares up to the venue. Clearly influenced by Kate Bush, singer Annie Clark’s synchronised body gestures aim to add an extra dimension to each song but unfortunately fail to form a complete artistic addition to the set. Furthermore, the stark halts in-between songs completely cut you off from the world Clark spent the last 3 minutes trying to draw you into, and the band members themselves often stand motionless like the crowd.

Nevertheless, the performance still hints at something greater as the band’s sound is simply huge. Latest album St. Vincent’s focus on bass and electronic rhythm is brought to the stage with utmost clarity and Clark’s vocals are the guiding light which lead the set to some complex and, at times, beautifully palpable harmonies.

Memorable points did exist, with Clark letting the audience have their way with her guitar whilst climbing out of the stage via the balcony before returning to finish the encore, but after frequent stage invasions by crew members, it felt as if the show’s connections with the audience were constantly being severed.

Musically, the set was fantastic and, as always, the Albert Hall squeezed every last drop of sound from the band, especially during a solo performance of ‘Strange Mercy’, which contained some of the most dynamic electric guitar sounds I’d ever heard live. But the missing ingredient is orchestration; if they master that then they’re onto something special.

Album: Superfood – Don’t Say That

Released 3rd November 2014

Infectious Records

8/10

As far as album releases go, the tail end of 2014 has been an incredibly exciting time—there’s been Syro, You’re Dead!, Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes, Our Love, High Life, LP1… you get the idea. But it doesn’t take a genius to see that there’s a recurring theme, one which points towards an electronic chokehold on many popular artists’ imaginations at present. So when the spirited Superfood appeared on the Birmingham radar last year, it was exciting to see that guitar music could still sound fresh, even in the era of the DJ.

Running deep throughout their debut album, the somewhat rebellious lack of care to fit in with the current musical norm, of bass and wannabe psychadelia, skips side-by-side with a twisted sound palette that instead focuses on high-ends and fuzzy 90s sass. What’s more, there exists a perfect relationship between the final record and the band’s lifeblood; a juxtaposition of high-quality production teasing out a rugged attitude and nonsensical catchiness that acts as the perfect guilty pleasure. And that’s exactly what this album serves to be—an exciting break from the overly serious, a bowl of Frosties for your tea.

Don’t get me wrong, this album is never trashy or bland; what’s more, it even makes guitar music feel fucking cool again. Between the grungy discordance of ‘Superfood’ or ‘TV’ and the whiney hip-hop laden ‘Lily Pad For You To Rest On’ and blurry groove of ‘You Can Believe’, the entire album is a throwback to the sunny carefree times of the 90s.

Unfortunately, the beefy tracks initially released last year on Soundcloud (‘TV’ and ‘Superfood’), which comprised that first taste which got me hooked, seem to have been on diet on the run-up to the album release. Their reworking, most likely the result of their live renditions, seems to have left the tracks sounding rawer albeit weaker.

Nevertheless, Don’t Say That has, respectfully and seemingly out of nowhere, not only breathed life into my bedroom dance routine but also into a music scene which was left ravaged by the indie shitstorm spun by the NME.

Live: Bill Ryder-Jones

9th October

Manchester Cathedral

9/10

Italo Calvino’s classic of postmodern literature, “If on a winter’s night a traveller”, toys with the idea that the first few lines of a book are usually the most exciting and powerful. Like the first few bars of a song, or even the first few months of a relationship, what follows is still unknown; a vortex of possibilities, limited only by our very own imagination.

Bill Ryder-Jones’ first solo album, If…, released in 2011, was written as a pseudo-soundtrack for Calvino’s novel, and the ex-Coral guitarist now stands before a packed Manchester Cathedral, cutting as unlikely a figure as the venue as he gives some understated advice to the audience on how to best show appreciation for the album’s first live outing (yes, we can clap after the songs). He walks off as a recording reads out the opening passage of the book, setting the scene before the Manchester Camerata orchestra launch into the album’s title track. The eerie opener slowly creeps into every corner; the Cathedral as close to a perfect setting for the cathartic nature of the music. As the piece explodes after a silent pause, you instantly know you’re in for a special evening.

The influence of Clint Mansell’s work is evident on some of the tracks, but some of them cunningly deviate from the traditional soundtrack/score genre, and Ryder-Jones has brought several guests to expertly deliver the blows. By The Sea’s Liam Power plays the acoustic guitar on several tracks, ex-Zuton Sean Payne brings another dimension to the songs where his drum-kit features, whilst MiNNETONKA and Frankie Ross provide haunting, mermaid-like vocals on ‘By the Church of Apollonia’. Ryder-Jones himself joins the party on several tracks, adding his semi-acoustic Gibson and fragile, whispered vocals to the crisp sound of the orchestra, notably on the desolately beautiful ‘Leaning (Star of Sweden)’.

However, it’s ‘Enlace’ that ends up being the highlight of the night. A slow burning, piano and drum-driven piece, it anxiously builds with unrelenting dread, occasionally joined by the strings of both the orchestra and Ryder-Jones, before erupting with a spectacular guitar solo, courtesy of the evening’s maestro himself.

By the time the evening concludes with ‘Some Absolute End (The End)’, a delicate closer featuring the piano and two guitars only, it is evident that the stunned-into-silence audience has witnessed an evening of live music of a singular type; there are currently no plans for more live performances of If… anytime soon.

Although he has released the more traditional, but as excellent A Bad Wind Blows in my Heart since, the beauty of If… lies in its exceptional difference and diversity, whilst everything is still perfectly linked by Ryder-Jones’ knack for poignant and lingering melodies. Calvino would be delighted with Ryder-Jones’ opening chapter, for where he goes from here is as exciting as anyone’s guess.

Live: The Amazing Snakeheads

15th October

Sound Control

7/10

Start slow, end mad, stay heavy. Witnessing the unrelenting wall of sound echoing out throughout Sound Control, you can’t help but think of this as the informal mantra of The Amazing Snakeheads. The evening starts with Dale Barclay—frontman and only remaining original band member—swanning on stage half-naked, half-cocked and full of an almost sinister energy. The band launch into a drawn-out version of ‘Every Guy Wants To Be Her Baby’, only interrupting the constant industrial beat to reach for one of the variety of different beer, wine and spirit bottles littering the stage.

By song three, Barclay had grown tired of the formality of occupying the stage and leapt over the front barrier, with a mic stand in tow. The crowd parted to allow him room to maneuver and enjoy the sight of him gurning harder than a fresher at their first Warehouse Project. The simplistic riffs and beats are not great feats of technical musical ability but that is not what makes this band. It is through the energetic and occasionally aggressive stance of the Glaswegian frontman that the band gains it’s defining and down right entertaining sound. Having recently signed to Domino records—a label famous for bringing bands such as the Arctic Monkeys to the forefront of the British music scene—the trio certainly have the musical pedigree to go on to be greats. This seems evident from their comfortable stance on stage, but it is certainly confidence, not arrogance, that fuels this band.

After blasting through the vast majority of debut album Amphetamine Ballads the band finish their set with an extended version of their 65-second debut single ‘Testifying Time’. Drawing heavily from the punk side of their psychedelic punk sound the crowd is left agitated and enthralled. Who said punk is dead?

Briefly Exploring Chorlton

When you mention Chorlton to people, most people say something like: “Oh yeah, it’s really nice.” It is the type of place you would tell people you lived, probably the kind of place your parents would like you to live. The sort of place which is so nauseatingly nice you almost do not want to live there.

And if you’re from Fallowfield, Chorlton does not want you to visit, it would seem. I waited over 30 minutes for a number 22 bus which cost £2.50 for a fifteen-minute ride. There is a different stagecoach service which goes from Fallowfield, but your best bet is to get a bus into uni and catch the 85 or 86 opposite the RNCM.

When I arrived there I soon realised that Chorlton on a Tuesday morning at 10:30am is like Fallowfield on a Sunday morning at 9am. A lot of its celebrated independent shops (of which there are many) were closed just leaving the few chain retailers such as B&M Bargains and Costa Coffee. Whilst I waited for the rest of Chorlton to wake up I did some grocery shopping at a fruit and veg shop which came to £6.50 in total, far from unreasonable but probably double the price you would pay at Worldwide on Curry Mile.

Outside, I spoke to a Big Issue seller who had recently moved to Chorlton: “It’s very good. I used to live in Stockport but it’s better than there.” Keith, the manager of café Battery Park Juice Bar agreed: “I prefer it to Stockport.” Having just paid £1.80 for a latte, I could not disagree. What distinguishes Chorlton from most other merely nice areas seems to be its ability to keep chain stores to a minimum. “There are lots of independent shops, you don’t get a lot of big nationals as much, it has got more of a village feel it than a lot of other places,” Keith tells me. In particular Oddbins, a specialist wine shop, about as far away from Fallwofield’s New Zealand Wines as you can imagine and Simon Dunn Chocolatier caught my attention whilst strolling along the main street.

A short amble away from the centre, I stumble across a giant Morrisons, proof that Chorlton has not entirely avoided massive chain stores. Nearby there are four takeaways lined up, a nice contrast to the excessive amount of boutique coffee shops and international restaurants that fill the rest of Chorlton. Close by on Keppel Road, there is a stencilled portrait by Bristol-based street artist Stewy of a guy called Quentin Crisp who was a writer and gay icon which is worth checking out.

Before leaving I come across a Co-operative Funeral care. Despite all the chatter about Chorlton becoming a Yuppie utopia the most noticeable thing about it on weekdays is the amount of people shuffling by with walking sticks and shopping trolleys—although, worth visiting if you have a lot of time, patience and money.

Next Time: Moss Side

Have a place in Manchester you want Robert to check out? Email us at: [email protected]

The Myth of Masculinity

Evolving is a natural function that every organism undertakes. Hundreds of thousands of years have seen the archaic Homo Sapiens evolve into either the modern day human or Wayne Rooney. The recent decades, however, have seen masculinity drastically evolve, sending the gentleman back into prehistoric records and rocketing a new type of man to the front.

There once was a time when a gentleman would hold the door open for a lady, only wear a jacket on a cold evening so he could be of assistance to a chilly lady, and would be on hand to pull a lady’s chair out before she was to take her seat. These were the generic things a gentleman would do to showcase his array of masculinity to the world. However, I’m afraid to say, the Gentleman’s Handbook of Masculinity has been stolen away from us and in its wake, left us with a dirty lad’s mag.

Surely, I hear you cry, masculinity is still around! A strong leading example of this being the typical lads’ holiday! Yes, nothing says masculinity like a week away in Magaluf where the male can reign supreme and stomp around his new territory like the man he knows he is! Yes, nothing bellows masculinity like a tattoo spelling “Only God can Judge me” in Chinese (it definitely doesn’t translate to that) on your mate’s bottom! It can only be rivalled on the masculinity scale with your other mate throwing up in the pool from his midday Jäger! And even that cannot quite compete with the masculinity of your other mate sat by the pool on his phone, taking selfies and snapchatting his mum, before announcing his day’s activities on Twitter. “#Magaluf2014 #BoysOnTour.”

OK, so the lad’s holiday isn’t the most masculine place in the world! But, this is a time for a man to go on holiday and let his hair down. Back in Manchester at the gym is where a man really shows his masculinity! When the man bounces into the gymnasium changing rooms and strips down to his bare body, he does not care for the other people in the room as he is showcasing his masculinity! There’s no hiding behind a towel here, a man will show the gifts that God gave him, whether or not the gift was a big or small one. That is masculinity! He further shows off his masculinity when he goes into the gym (not still naked) and plants himself down to lift some heavy weights… after he’s sorted his hair out in the mirror he has sat directly in front of, taken a picture of himself and tweeted about how much he’s about to do in the gym. He then turns on his iPod and puts his earphones in to listen to One Direction’s album (don’t pretend you don’t appreciate a good 1D tune) whilst completing his ten lifts. He then leaves for the McDonald’s next to the gym.

Okay, so the gym isn’t the most masculine place in the world! But, this is a time for a man to work out away from the pressures of women and be at ease. Back in the bathroom whilst getting ready is when a man really shows his masculinity! In the time it takes a woman to get ready in a bathroom, a man could have gone in 14 times, allowing his beard to grow in between each entry so he could shave it off again… right? Wrong. Years ago a man would partially shave, brush his teeth, wash his face and leave. What an easy life that man had… but what horrible complexion and hair. That man never moisturised, dry-shampooed, plucked his eyebrows, flossed, blow-dried and moulded his hair. He did not take the meticulous and correct amount of time to shave his beard into the neatest most imaginable shape possible. He did not cut his fingernails—he would bite them at red lights on the way to work. The modern day man may be a little bit less masculine in the bathroom, but he’s a lot better looking outside of the bathroom.

Colour coordination, disinterest from football, man-hugs, spirits instead of beer, pouting instead of smiling, clubs instead of pubs; what has happened to the days of the gentleman? They evolved. Who am I, you or him to say these new men aren’t masculine? Masculinity is within the eye of the beholder! Masculinity, as a set of rules, is a myth! However, all this being said, I do urge you to hold a door open for all, eat with your mouth closed and stand up for a pregnant lady on the bus. Masculinity is a myth—manners are not.

Women Beyond the Western World

With new campaigns, like the UN’s He for She, or the common viral Facebook post or video, feminism is starting to seem, to some, overrated. As much as most people do agree that men and women should have equal rights, many just lose interest when it comes to the finer details and thus deem feminism on the whole as a passing fad. Even worse, the term feminism has started to carry a connotation that limits its scope to the western world. However, this issue has become increasingly more important to consider in other parts of the world, such as the Middle East. When it comes to feminism, western ideals cannot be applied blindly to the Middle East, for its unique characteristics require these principles to be altered in a way that accommodates the culture and needs of its people.

For centuries now, women in the United Kingdom have fought a long battle for equality. For example, in 1870, married women were given the right to own property. In 1928 women were given the right to vote alongside men. In 1975 an act was passed to rule against sexual discrimination in education or in the work place. Over the years, women in Britain have gained more and more rights, leading them to, approximate, equality. As much as feminism may start sounding like a cliché to us today, fighting for women’s rights years ago is what built this country as we know it. Likewise, in most other nations, these laws have also been introduced over the years. However, when looking at feminism outside the western world, it is not political or procedural factors that we must focus on, but instead different factors that are not as prominent in the western world—factors such as sexual harassment, or restrictive and binding gender roles. Therefore, western feminists cannot expect the feminist movement to work the same way in different countries, but must instead allow for different cultural and traditional issues.

One of the biggest problems facing women in the Middle East is their constant vulnerability to sexual harassment. This vulnerability often has very little to do with what the woman is wearing or doing, but rather occurs because of a subconscious, and obviously incorrect, assumption by the men that they must assert their manhood by patronising and humiliating women. The trivial act of riding a public bus alone may easily become a dangerous trek. Sexual harassment has spread beyond the idea of a touch or a word, but has evolved into different tricks and manipulations by the predators to do all that they can to get their hands on women. As important as it is to focus on equality in the western world, feminists must start focusing their attention on the nations that lack the fundamentals of women’s rights in the first place.

Even worse, this fear of sexual harassment is part of a vicious circle; society generally puts women in very strict gender roles, which in turn leads other men to think that they have the power to hurt and oppress women. It is a common belief in certain cultures and religions that a woman must be married by a certain age, after which she is “spoiled goods.” More importantly, she must be a virgin at the time of marriage—any doubt of this fact could lead to great shame and embarrassment for not only her, but her family as well. At first glance, these roles seem far too deep-rooted and cultural to be changed by a wave of feminism. However, as time progresses, there has been more leeway in these roles. These traditions, as old as they are, are not set in stone; more and more women have started finding their worth in advancing in their careers or in doing what they love, rather than in starting a family. Therefore, feminists from all corners of the globe must not give up on fighting for women’s rights in the Middle East, no matter how ancient these maxims are.

There has been, however, another invisible and unnecessary barrier created when it comes to spreading feminism to nations outside of the western world. The stereotype of a Middle Eastern woman is that she is oppressed and is forced to dress in a certain way. Therefore, some may believe that women need to be “freed” from this way of dressing before they can fight for any other rights. This is a great oxymoron, since women in the Middle East, for the most part, choose to dress this way, as any other woman may choose to dress in different clothing. This generalised view limits how much feminism can achieve outside of the western world, since it sheds light on the wrong aspect of the every day life of a Middle Eastern woman.

Feminism has led to great things in many nations around the world. However, in order to reach its full potential, people must realise that there is more to feminism than finding equality just in procedures and systems. Instead, this movement must be applied to different areas in different ways in order to fit different cultures and traditions—cultures and traditions that can, no matter how ancient, change for the better, with time.