Alice Cooper Live from Wacken is ballsy and loud, and if you don’t like that why would you buy an Alice Cooper album? Well I don’t like that. This album serves only to evidence the irrefutable fact that everything Alice Cooper has ever released sounds exactly the same. Like a high schoolers high on volume and distortion, Cooper and his backing band launch through the shock rock singers back catalogue to the applause of the audience, but to the horror of me!
There are good songs in Cooper’s locker. It would be unfair to suggest that ‘No More Mr Nice Guy’ or ‘Poison’ aren’t canonical works in the rocks discography. A huge failing of this album is Cooper’s apparent penchant for shitting on cornerstones of popular music.
His combination of ‘Schools Out’ (his most famous song) and ‘Another Brick in the Wall’ is 7 minutes of wall of sound murder. He also covers ‘Break on Through’, turning a Doors classic into (you guessed it) a wall of sound. The Beatles are next, Cooper’s ‘Revolution’ interpretation finally answering the question of what Oasis would have sounded like had they have gone the whole hog with their Beatles impersonation.
Cooper can roll out celebrity friends like Johnny Depp all he likes, but using voodoo to reincarnate Jim Morrison on stage wouldn’t have saved these covers.
Cooper has his audience and based on the screams in between songs they love him. That or the post production’s use of canned cheering was liberal to say the least. Wacken is hardly a festival that screams out for bands exploiting subtlety in their output, and so Cooper’s combination of raucous music and wild stage show is perfect for its environment.
The DVD makes for a funny watch, Cooper defying age, strutting around making Mick Jagger’s descent into old age look graceful. Overall it’s the output of an artist at the end of his career but you know what, it’s been a long innings at the top. Cooper’s clearly doing something right.
Alongside his outfit 1-800 Dinosaur, James Blake took over Manchester’s Warehouse Project to deliver a quite literally breath-taking set.
In anticipation, I gave Blake’s two albums a listen and admittedly I can’t say it ever caught my attention, it’s great reading music, kinda nice to put on if you’re feeling a bit edgy, but want to relax. Frankly, I was fascinated at how James Blake and Overgrown were so critically acclaimed upon release. However, after seeing him live I understand the plaudits he received, justifiably so, his live set gives a whole other dimension to his sound.
Stepping out with a guitarist and a drummer, Blake sits at his keyboard and starts to twinkle and work his fingers round a looped sample, before layering on some synthed chords. The drummer leads the instrumentation, his percussive snare fills give the opener a trap-kind of feel. Gradual energy builds, the looping vocal sample and beat climb to an inexplicable drop that literally reverberated through my nose and ribcage and probably altered my heart-rate. ‘Air & Lack Thereof’ is reminiscent of something Hudson Mohawke might’ve produced, the bass pulsates frantically throughout my entire body and the sound is so very far from the sombre night I’d grown to believe I was in for.
Thankfully, the dub and bass-heavy songs such as ‘CMYK’ and ‘Voyeur’ are completely contrasted by the solemn ‘Measurements’ and ‘Retrograde’ in a setlist that is eerie and experimental, and sits well with the cool kids of Manchester.
‘Wilhelm Scream’ is the penultimate track and the clincher for me. Blake’s falsetto is tremendous and the support from the guitarist and the drummer are equally matched in a constructed and atmospheric escalation to a near-hypnotic climax. It’s minimalist and intricate, and reminiscent of the vibe of the set.
Blake’s sound is unique and unlike any electronic music I’ve heard before. Detached yet sincere and honest, the intimacy on record is given a new life by his live performance. Whilst his sound becomes somewhat tedious in the downtempo parts, I don’t think my heart-rate could’ve lasted one and a half hours of face-numbing bass.
Twin Atlantic stepped out on stage opening the show with ‘The Ones That I Love’ slowly lulling the crowd into calmness, before breaking that and busting into ‘Hold On’ which completely changed the vibe and kicking up an absolute storm. They upheld and maintained this by going on to play ‘Beast Of Myself’, which definitely got the loudest interaction from the crowd. ‘Fall Into The Party’ and ‘Be A Kid’ swapping from ballad to anthem but never losing the crowds interest. There was such an electric ambiance about their set and the way they were playing, which rubbed off on the crowd and continued through the night.
The Scottish band went on to play a mix from both their last album Free and new album Great Divide which went down very well. There were however a few technical faults during the middle of the set, and lead singer Sam McCrusty even forgot one of the songs and had to start over three times to which he said: “My humblest apologies for being a dick,” and let everyone boo him in comical style for three seconds. However, their mistakes didn’t put off the rest of their performance with an absolutely crazy drum solo from Craig McNae during ‘The Ghost of Eddie’, which definitely didn’t let anybody down.
Another highlight from the set had to be the acoustic version of ‘Crash Land’ with Barry McKenna on the beautiful cello and McCrustys moving vocals, everyone in the room with a lighter or flash in the air, the aura was absolutely magical. There was then a steady build up of familiar songs leading up to the end of the night, concluding with most recently popular ‘Brothers and Sisters’ and then ‘Heart and Soul’ finishing the night with an absolute bang.
After waiting two years for one of Scotland’s most successful rock bands, Twin Atlantic, to return to Manchester, they finally performed at Manchester Acadamy on Tuesday 28th October. Twin Atantic last performed whilst touring with Free, their second album in 2012. They have now released their long-awaited new album Great Divide in August earlier this year. Before the gig, I spoke to bassist Ross McNae and drummer Craig Kneale.
As I walked into the room, both Ross and Craig quickly rushed to pause their Fifa game, laughed and then got their serious faces on. I firstly asked them what their favourite track of the new album was and why. They both agreed on ‘I Am An Animal’. “When we first started out we felt we had to act and perform in a certain way to fit our genre. With this album we had a lot more fun and I think this song really represents that.”
When asked who was their biggest influence for this album, Ross quickly blurted “Miley Cyrus” and after a few confused seconds he explained: “No, seriously, for Great Divide we were influenced by people in the pop music industry. People who go and just have fun with what they do. Especially because pop music is something we’ve always shy’d away from. It was fun to make that transition.”
“I don’t think you should have guilty pleasures” Ross went on to say. “You like what you like and you don’t what you don’t. You should never be ashamed of what you enjoy… Unless it’s racist or something.”
Twin Atlantic performed on the main stage for the first time at T In The Park this year. “Yeah it was crazy, we love playing at festivals because its such a good way to branch out to new people, they’re so much more hectic and you get to have more fun playing because you just let go a little more. Before we play at festivals we get in a little huddle and we knock heads three times. I don’t know why, but it’s just become a tradition I guess. This one time it was my idea that we do a bit of yoga and meditation before we played. Like all sit down in a circle and hold hands but it didn’t really work though and it just calmed us all down instead, which isn’t what we wanted,” Craig said, shaking his head. “However there’s something about playing at smaller venues. Knowing that all these people have turned up just for you, there’s something really special when you can see all the fans singing along and know every word. That’s pretty awesome.”
However, being a band that’s been around for so long, what is it that annoys you when you’re at a gig? ”It’s relatively annoying when people are talking when we’re playing. Also when people are filming the whole thing, I understand taking a few photos but when people are filming it all the time, they’re missing out on the actual experience just so they can watch it later. Which is a shame, but at the end of the day they’ve paid to be there, I guess they can do what they want really!”
I proceeded to ask them if they could be stuck in a lift with anyone, who would it be and why? They both sat and thought for a few seconds. Craig answered first. “Funnily enough, when I was younger I was always scared that if you got stuck in a lift with someone, that the oxygen would run out. So I’d have to kill them to stay alive. It would have to be someone I hate… but I don’t really hate anyone so I don’t know.” After which Ross replied “well I mean you could take this one of two ways, I could say Taylor Swift and then let it be weird, or I’d like to be stuck with someone interesting like Julian Assange.”
Ross went on to say, “or maybe Jesus, and be like are you alive? Yes or no?” Craig bounced from this—“Jesus, is God your dad? Yes or no?” to which Ross joked, “Jesus, did God shag your mum? Yes or no?”
Finally, if you had any advice for anyone who is starting out in the music industry, what would it be? “Come hell or high water,” Ross stated, “you’ve got to put your all in from the very get go. You’ve got to forget college and university and that dream of becoming a chef. You’ve got to give it all your time and emotions and put your all into it, no one is just going to hand it to you.”
‘Tough Luck’—the title of Eagulls’s opening track might be the best description for the attitude of Leeds’ finest post-punk band. The jangling, Marr-esque guitar intro heavily contrasting the barely comprehensible wail of vocalist George Mitchell. A man with the pale gaunt of Ian Curtis.
As the set progresses and the guitar gets heavier: the individual sound that make Eagulls who they are. With each song there is a sense of complete hopelessness in the realisation that you’re completely fucked; they are the sound of the disgruntled English worker in 2014. This might not seem the kind of doom and gloom that will liven your spirits on a rainy Saturday in Manchester, but there’s something in the comradery of the audience. A communal acceptance that everything’s gone shit and there’s nothing we can do about it and that’s just fine.
Marching through the set with a constant swagger, the band launch into 2013 single ‘Nerve Endings’, arguably the song that named them BBC Radio 6’s Steve Lamacq’s favourite band of that year. A sentiment shared by many in the crowd, moving furiously as Mitchell spits out each lyric over the droning music. The band, dressed all in black, dimly lit by a projection of a bleak cityscape have a bleak gothic look that feeds an energy possessing the eager crowd.
As the set draws to a close, their agitated nature erupts into an energetic rage taking on the persona of the final song ‘Possessed’. Leaving with no goodbyes and no encore Eagulls defy convention and courtesy, but you wouldn’t expect anything else from this band. A cold and emotionless end to their largest UK tour to date. No sentiment. Just the bleak message of a band that by rights should only get bigger.
“I told my Dad I wouldn’t swear too much,” says Samuel T. Herring, gazing around the cathedral. “I’ve got to say this is one of those most beautiful venues we’ve ever played in.”
In deadly combination, and probably Pitchfork’s wet dream, Future Islands played in Manchester Cathedral on 1st November at Columns Festival.
If you haven’t heard of them yet, you’ll most likely have been in a heavy coma or maybe into Calvin Harris, as 2014 really has been a year of no escaping. The band is from Baltimore and is comprised of three weird men with even weirder moves who look a decade older than their 30 years. Ever since that iconic performance of ‘Seasons’ on the Letterman show, the trio are only spiralling in success. And after eight years and with four albums in tow, it seems rightly so.
There is little introduction after the vocalist waltzes on stage, preceded by bassist William Cashion, Gerrit Welmers on keys and touring drummer, Michael Lowry.
The darkness of the cathedral provides careful intimacy between band and crowd as the bass of ‘Back in the Tall Grass’ begins. The transformation takes place. If you’ve watched said Letterman video, you’ll know what I mean. His hips gyrate, he sucks his fingers, he caresses his body like his anaconda don’t. He weaves this between singing into the eyes of every immediate crowd member; now I know what it is to see a grown man melt.
The other band members are mostly static; Welmers bobs about, pressing each key daintily, as though made of porcelain. Cassion is skilled at prohibiting any emotion from his face, but even better at playing the bass. Importantly though, it doesn’t seem out of boredom. This is how they do things. Live, the show is really about Herring. It’s about his performance and creating a connection with their audience.
The band move quickly through songs through the hour set. Pop gems of the latest album contrast with brooding dark moments from previous records. It reverberates throughout the cathedral, generating a weird amalgamation of sugary, haunting music.
‘A Dream of You and Me’ is great. Almost uncomfortably honest, he wants to show us exactly what this song means to him. ‘Seasons’ not so, seeming a little detached from the band, the connection perhaps blurred after the many times they’ve performed it.
Then there’s the synth-heavy ‘Walking Through that Door’. It’s intense and erratic, and as the synth climaxes Herring raises his hand up to the rooftops, stares into the distance and lets out a guttural roar. Ethereal swirls of light are projected onto the stain glass windows, a red light glows on his face. He looks completely demonic.
It’s a massive juxtaposition next to ‘A Song For my Grandfathers’, after which he cries. He cries twice in fact; like a toddler, his big face crumbles, his lips wobble, it’s grisly raw emotion and it’s fascinating to watch. His energy is a wonderful relief that makes you wonder why no other performer allows us this honesty.
But although unadulterated and unembarrassed; you wonder how anyone can sustain giving so much, so relentlessly. The show was wonderful and sets the bar way high for the future of musical performance. But in this temperamental moment of success, it’s worth considering how the band will manage to maintain their trademark honesty whilst remaining genuine.
What did I learn from attending my first ever classical music concert? When you’re told it’s a 7:30 pm start, you had better be in your seat at 7:30 pm. There’s no contingency time for stumbling in 40 minutes late, beer in hand at this joint. I miss the pre-show murmur and take my place as the lights dim, the pianist enters, sits and immediately sinks his hands into the keys. I am observing the instant stillness of the audience before I direct my attention to Daniil Trifonov.
Back in school when GCSE music required me to struggle through the embarrassment of not having practised for my violin lessons, my teacher could only bear to remind me of one thing. I was to imagine my instrument as an extension of my body, and I would learn to play like my violin was an extra arm. Watching Trifonov reminds me of this, his head bowing to the delicate melody of Beethoven’s last sonata. Arpeggios crescendo and wake him to full posture, his shoulders roll with the rumble of his left hand and his hands spring with the trills of Bach’s Fantasia and Fugue. In other words, Trifonov’s body mirrors the music he plays. Occasionally he raises his chin slowly upwards to catch the gold glow of the Bridgewater Hall lights, as if in prayer.
He builds tension with long pauses and at times I almost make the terrible mistake of starting to clap before he’s done. At the interval I hear sophisticated 50-somethings buzzing about his technical skill. I wonder if with my first experience of a classical concert that Trifonov has set the bar too high.
In any case, Trifonov, exhausted by his performance, has shown his worth to Manchester. His piano is his body, his breath is his metronome.
Following on from an electric year which has seen him win Best African Act at the MOBOs for a second year running, Fuse ODG brought his T.I.N.A (that is This is the New Africa—not his sister) movement to Manchester for an energetic yet intimate performance at Club Academy.
Warming up the crowd were a number of acts associated loosely with the afrobeats genre (think electronic beats mixed with grime and a sprinkling of Ghana) that Fuse ODG spearheads. Assisted by an MC, they swiftly oiled the buzzing audience’s limbs with a mixture of quick tunes and obligatory crowd participation. Fuse ODG fans are fanatical, and the girl who dared go on stage and get a song name wrong—‘Million Dollar Girl’ instead of the correct ‘Million Pound Girl’ was heckled off with shouts like, “she doesn’t fucking know the words, why is she here?”
Fuse ODG almost let the crowd boil over with anticipation but eventually every other word the MC said was about girls being worth a million pounds and Fuse ODG ambled on to the stage to ‘Million Pound Girl’ which drove everyone into a hip-shaking, booty-wiggling competition. The carnival vibe continued through Fuse’s early songs, probably reaching it’s peak in ‘T.I.N.A’ when dancers swayed around with Ghanaian flags: Fuse’s new Africa just wants to enjoy itself.
The party atmosphere was tempered towards the middle of the set with the digital infused afrobeats giving way to laidback rhythms of much of his yet unreleased material from debut album T.I.N.A, notably ‘Bucket Full of Sunshine’. His fantastic backing band, The Composers, ensured that despite the milder tone the set acquired that it remained its interest with thrilling drum solos providing segues between songs.
‘Azonto’ and ‘Antenna’, whilst good, failed to spur the ecstasy in the waning crowd. Here Fuse’s presence was notably lacking and if he had controlled the show more, the atmosphere of the latter half of the gig may have felt less like a club half an hour before it closes.
The crowd went wild again when Fuse announced that ‘Dangerous Love’ would be his last song and this is when what afrobeats is all about came through. I’ve not been to many gigs where you can get the overwhelming feeling that you’re at one with everyone in the room whilst feeling like you can dance your feelings out however you like, sober, without getting shoved into or stood on. Maybe that’s the essence of T.I.N.A.
Directed by Luis Buñuel and co-directed with Salvador Dali, this surrealist film is unlike anything you will ever see in a classic film. Slicing eyeballs, dead cattle and gender swapping, this film was decades ahead of its own time, yet surprisingly not many have seen it. This film is quite intimidating at first and seasoned film reviewers have trouble understanding it but I encourage anyone to see it. This intense journey of lust and sin is one of the most outrageous pieces of art anyone will see. To watch this film you need to completely open your mind and change your perspective on the notion of ‘narrative’; after you watch Un Chien Andalou it is impossible to ever forget it.
The entire film plays like a dream—it will no doubt confuse its audience but that’s to be expected. Like a painting, the film is open to interpretation but it is more than meets the eye. The film opens with a man sharpening a razor, making sure it’s sharp by testing it on himself and cutting his thumb nail. He then makes his way to the balcony where, looking up at the moon, he places his fingers on the eyelids of a woman (who appeared out of thin air) spreads them apart, takes the razor and cuts right through her eyeball, juxtaposed with a shot of a thin cloud passing in front of the moon. Many believe that the moon stands as a symbol for the woman’s virginity and that showing the image of a thin cloud passing by it, along with the image of the woman having her eye cut, is symbolism of the male taking the virginity of the female in the film (if you’re ever writing about sensory cinema this film is a great choice).
The film raises questions about how we live as a society and what prevents us as people from enjoying indulging in whatever we want. Another great sequence is when the male character is trying to chase after the female (around eight minutes into the film) but is held back by rope, to which are attached two priests, two stone tablets, two grand pianos with two dead donkeys nestled inside them. My interpretation is that the male character ‘wants’ the female, he ‘wants’ to be with her and to have her for himself but things such as religion and social class and wealth are holding him back and preventing him from ‘having’ her. This film was one of the main driving forces behind the surrealist movement of the late twenties and, surprisingly, was welcomed with great reception by audiences, even though it was an attack on the Church at the time. The film is either a genius commentary on social anthropology or a bunch of nonsense, but—love it or hate it—you’ll watch the most controversial film ever to be created. Oh, and did I forget to mention it’s French?
“Come the fuck in or fuck the fuck off!” Words that could only come from the mouth of the Thick of It’s crazed, sweary mad man Malcolm Tucker. The Scottish psychopath of spin, portrayed brilliantly by Peter Capaldi, is the main attraction of The Thick of It, a show about the cock-ups caused by the incompetent men and women of Westminster.
The show starts by focusing on the seemingly useless and pointless Department of Social Affairs where the equally useless and pointless but loveable minister Hugh Abbott tries and fails to not mess things up. He’s a man who barely has any sleep, never gets to see his kids and only gets to take a dump as a sort of treat. It shows how all these incompetent politicians we mock and hate are actually human and may genuinely be good people deep down. But it doesn’t stop us laughing at their tragic personal and professional lives.
A few more ministers pass through DOSA as the show progresses to show the battle between the two main parties trying to win petty battles against each other as well as a general election. The humour doesn’t just come from sweary Scotsman, but also from the wit of right wing MP Peter Mannion, Nicola Murray breaking down and craving ketamine, and the whiney squabbles between the pathetic Phil Smith and Oliver Reeder. It all comes together to become one of the greatest British comedies ever made and will be an instant favourite to anyone who watches it.
The Thick of It is available on Netflix in its entirety and I assure you it won’t disappoint. Anyway, “Fuckety bye!”
Everyone keeps reminding me that I only need 40 per cent but I don’t care. I will succeed in my first ever uni essay. As the pile of books around me slowly grows in size though, I realise that it is overwhelming me.
It’s late and there’s no one around me in the library. My studious sanctuary of Blue 2 is serving me well. I feel that I have earned a break.
I log on to my Tumblr to relax for 10 minutes and I begin to peruse. Amongst the gifs of cute cats and arty Northern Quarter types, appears a deluge of beauty. The bulging heads and concrete shafts of a hundred pornstars flies past as I attempt to scroll quickly to the next cat gif.
It’s only when I arrive at a Vine of a cat jumping off a rooftop that I realise I am alone. It takes two fingers to scroll back up and two fingers to go down.
The release of tension is unquestionable. The pent up stress of penning my essay is released in waves; as my fingers dance over my Nancy Rothwell like a keyboard, I moan softly.
“Ahem,” I hear a sound. I look up and I’m no longer alone.
I pull my fingers out of my Lancashire Hotpot with a squirm. “Oh hi there,” I pant, “I was just doing this essay and I’ve got a terrible cold.”
“You have a cold?” He says. I begin to study his face. His grey eyes pierce my soul with a chill, like the ever-cloudy Manchester skies. His cheekbones, sharper than the rise in tuiton fees, begin to unravel the gate to my lady garden. His voice is gentle but gruff, and with every syllable I widen as if I am Oxford Road and my sinkhole is opening.
“Yeah… sort of… sorry I can’t catch my breath,” I reply, blushing. He tilts his head and the muscles in his neck ripple in waves that my body imitates.
“Oh,” he laughs, “it sounded like you were doing something completely different. Can I help you… formulate your structure?” I force out a laugh and lower my gaze, and then I see a bulge in his edgy, skintight, turned-up jeans. With every laugh his manhood wriggles and I grab it.
“What…?” He exclaims. I cover his mouth with my hand; “Shhhh, we’re in the library.”
I stand up and push him backwards. I lean into kiss him and he kisses me back. Our bodies press together and we start grinding like we’re at Deansgate Locks on a Saturday night.
All of a sudden we topple over into a shelf of books about the economic development of China with a crash, and my Marginal Propensity to Consume is rising.
“Who’s there?!” Shouts an eager student from a distance.
“Come back to mine.” he says, looking into my eyes—I hesitate, torn between my looming deadline and my sudden desire for a hostile takeover. “Please, I need you.” I can’t resist and we run outside. We run all the way to Oxford Road and straight across. The thrill of nearly dying under the wheels of a 42 to Piccadilly excites me further and we board the first bus we see.
I rush on with my bus pass and see that my mystery man is paying. I await him at the foot of the stairs until his hand arrives on my rump: “Upstairs. Back. Now.”
I’m sat at the back and he meanders over, but he doesn’t take a seat. Instead he kneels down between my legs, “look, I may not have a unirider but please, let me eat your Magic Bussy.” I cringe but it’s Why Not Wednesday in my pants, and I can’t say no.
He rips into my clothes to get to the womanly feast that awaits him. As the bus pulls away, he positions his face at my crotch and carefully drives his bus into my Piccadilly Garden.
Every bump in the road is a wave of ecstacy; every press of the brakes is a source of pleasure; and every car’s seemingly random U-turn on the Curry Mile that causes the bus to slam to a halt is an orgasmic shock of electricity.
The groans and bangs of the crumbling Magic Bus rattling over potholes mask my gasps for pleasure from the other passengers. He truly is a magic rider. Then, all of a sudden the smell of naan bread fills the top deck.
“It must be Lal Qila,” I think to myself, “I really fancy some peshwari naan.” I realise that he has stopped and I look down quizically.
Our lips separate, “what’s wrong? Your pussy is drying up faster than my career prospects.”
“Sorry, I was just thinking about naan bread,” I reply.
The evening after Halloween saw Future Islands play a rather special set in the beautiful surroundings of Manchester Cathedral. Having earned a reputation as one of this years most exciting live acts, combined with five upcoming acts supporting them on the line up, this was not an event to be missed.
Technical difficulties plagued East India Youth’s set, allowing him a rather measly 15 minutes to play three songs. The layered vocals of ‘Looking For Someone’, and the choral backing of ‘Dripping Down’ seem perfectly suited to resonate around the cathedral. As the electronic breakdown of finisher ‘Heaven, How Long’ gets the crowd shuffling, its seems a shame his set couldn’t have been longer.
Following EIY is Zola Jesus. Opening track ‘Dangerous Days’ presents her as a kind of dark and brooding Florence Welch. Her powerful voice and stage presence silences the audience, but her set and voice fall a little flat at points. Whilst her songs never seems to match the strength of her opener, it’s clear that she’s a talented performer and is definitely a one to watch.
Almost none of this seemed to matter, as Future Islands succeeded in blowing all the other acts out of the water. Their setlist focused heavily on their most recent album, Singles, but they also included several choice songs from their previous three outputs. However, it was frontman Sam Herring that really stole the show. Herring’s enigmatic performance made the show one of the most engrossing and memorable performances I have ever seen. The look of pain and passion on his face, coupled with his contorted dancing, injected the songs with so much raw energy and emotion it was difficult to tear your eyes away from him. If you ever get the chance to see Future Islands, do.
David Moufang aka Move D is a veteran selector and vinyl purist. Opting to shy away from the limelight, he has steadily built a devoted fan base across his long career. We spoke to the German prior to his appearance in Manchester at Sankeys on New Year’s Eve.
Move D has produced in a range of genres varying from deep house to experimental spoken word; his 1995 album Kunststoff is hailed as a seminal techno classic. I questioned if this variation in his production process is planned or naturally occurs: “The latter. Usually I start off with a musical idea that could be done as anything: loungey or house or whatever. Then it will naturally shape and evolve in a certain way because of what the music is like or my mood at the given time.”
Move D is an active collaborator, having worked with numerous other producers on tracks. He next explained how these initiate: “One of the first collaborations was the one with Jonah Sharp – Reaganz. I became aware of him through records he put out on his own or with Pete Namlook, and through Pete I got his phone number. I was going to go to California anyway but thought I should try and ring this guy. I was actually just eager to meet him in the first place, but then he said ‘oh yeah, let’s jam’ so that’s how this came together. Since then obviously I’ve been really into collaborations. It’s not that I actively look for people, it happens naturally. I think the reason I really like collaborations is relevant to the first question in a way, producing is open to even more surprises when you work with other people. You get different kinds of input and I think it’s kind of refreshing to deal with different input instead of being locked into your own mind frame.”
Is there anyone new he’d particularly like to collaborate with? “Well, Larry Heard for instance would be really awesome. I met a lot of guys in Detroit at the Movement this year, or I knew them before, like Keith Worthy and Big Strick. They’re all great guys; I would definitely be up for jamming with them. In December we have Jus-Ed coming back to Heidelberg; it’s not my party but we’re using this as an opportunity to work together again. We did some stuff before it just never really got properly released – it’s only a video on YouTube.”
“Yeah, so pretty much anyone” he continues, before drily adding “I mean, not anyone… but it could be a lot of people. Essentially though I’m not really looking for more people to collaborate with because I’ve already got so many. Primarily of course Juju & Jordash in Magic Mountain High.”
On the mention of Heidelberg, talk turns to the trend for DJs and producers to move to large European cities. I ask if there’s any particular reason Move D has rejected this trend and remained in his aforementioned hometown: “Well, I did kind of fancy London in the 90s but it’s so fucking expensive and all my friends – heroes of mine – like Baby Ford were going to get the dole to pay for their living you know? I thought no, I can’t put up with this so I stayed at home. I’m not saying Heidelberg is cheap but it’s not as ridiculously expensive as London.” Berlin seems to be the current number one destination. “I like Berlin, but it’s becoming more and more like a hipster centre and also getting more expensive. It was more exciting to me when the wall came down about twenty years ago, it was a lot more open. But even back then I was never that much of a real Berlin fan, I mean it’s great to be there for a while but it’s always great to come home. I think even Manchester is more homey and beautiful in the centre, it’s amazing.”
Move D has been a frequent visitor to our fine city over the years, playing several times for club night meandyou. as well as for Sankeys and Warehouse Project. Elaborating on his experiences he shares: “I think I came to Manchester the first time in 2006 and since then it’s gotten a lot cleaner and you can tell how neighbourhoods are rising, it’s really fun to go there. I would consider living in Manchester anytime over Berlin. It’s great; I love it.”
“I love the north of England and Scotland and Ireland in general, there’s always good parties there. It could be Leeds or Glasgow as well, or Edinburgh or Newcastle. But Manchester is special because of the meandyou. guys and the friends I’ve made there. It’s also a lot bigger than these other places I’ve named so in the north it’s kind of the metropole in a way.”
His next visit is on New Year’s Eve, to play at Sankeys alongside Kerri Chandler. “I’ve played for them once – well, a couple of times for the Sankeys in Ibiza – but played once for the Manchester Sankeys before in the upstairs room. I really hope that’s where I play again, it’s beautiful. I really love the upstairs in Sankeys.”
“Honestly I’m really into small intimate parties like meandyou. kind of stuff, but if it has to be a bigger scale I guess New Year’s Eve is a good excuse. Although actually even the Warehouse Project, which was a massive event, is a night I really enjoyed myself at I must say” he reveals, before continuing in an amused drawl, “proper Mancunian party attitude, loving it.”
A career DJ gets to visit many different countries: “There are places I go to that I would never end up being even if I had loads of money, like I played in Central Siberia in Omsk which is really far away from everything. These places have been really special because they show you spots and parts of the earth that you wouldn’t know about and the people are extremely nice there. They have hardly any English and a very basic kind of way of living: no fancy iPhones or BMWs – forget all this. They seemed a lot more happy and content in a way than other people. I think it is a really big blessing that I can visit these places. Taiwan as well, not only playing in Taipei but also seeing Kaohsiung. It’s the other major city on the island and it’s out in the jungle somewhere; it’s amazing.”
“Last year in 2013 my two favourite parties were in Chicago and Taipei, but this doesn’t guarantee that the next time around it will be the same and it could be another place. It’s really hard to generalise. But if we have to generalise I really think Europe is super cool and England better stay in!”
“I feel the scene is still kind of growing and evolving or turning to new generations, it’s a lot of fun.”
Move D does hold reservations on one European country’s scene however – his home nation: “I think maybe Germany is the only scene that isn’t evolving. I mean I’m not saying it’s bad here but there’s this prevalent attitude of still relating and referring to stuff that’s been around forever like Sven Väth. I’m not dissing Sven, he’s great, but I think we lack the openness for something new really. You always have the new trends breaking in the UK and kind of crossing over with stuff that’s been around or influencing stuff that’s happening. In Germany we’re a lot more conservative when it comes to music and parties which I think is a shame.”
I note how I’ve never seen Move D draw for one of his own releases in a DJ set, and ask if this is something he doesn’t tend to do: “Sometimes I do, but because I play vinyl I’m very limited on the records I can bring and I always have to leave stuff behind that I would ideally like to play. I’ve heard my own stuff the most so that’s probably why it often leaves the bag pretty soon and I only play it once or twice. It’s not like I’m militant in not playing my stuff, it’s just that I want to play music that excites me as well, so chances are higher that I prefer other people’s music.”
Move D has been playing improvised live sets with Magic Mountain High. I question if this ability to do sets of his own music that he’s not become bored by was the inspiration. “That’s a whole different game. Essentially if you’re DJing you’re serving the people to make them have a good time and you can’t really do it with too much of a dogma. You really have to feel the moment and the place. I would go to all sorts of places if I had the records with me and I feel that it’s appropriate to: I’d play some techno or bass or whatever. I’m really flexible like this. Because live sets of your own music only last an hour or something, I don’t think you should try to please the crowd too much. Instead you should be true to yourself and your music.”
“Improvising is what you do with collaborations, that’s all improvisation it’s just happening in the studio. I thought that it was perfect to find the guys in Juju & Jordash who were ready to take this onstage and make it a lot more risky but also more entertaining and I guess interesting for people to watch. Even if there’s moments where we struggle at least they can witness that, and it’s not like we’re firing off our best hits from the studio which I think would be kind of lame.”
Move D has spoken at length of his great love for the festival Freerotation at which he is a resident. A heart wrenching clash took place this summer with perhaps the only event that could be better taking place on the final night: Germany winning the World Cup final. “I saw that coming! I just wasn’t sure they would be in the final and then they were and I knew I was going to miss some essential hours of the festival: I missed out on doing a great set in the ambient tent. But I mean it’s been like 24 years or something and next time will come around.”
Move D keeps his Facebook feed regularly updated, speaking about whether maintaining a human connection with fans is important he reveals: “Well, that’s the way I do it. I know others who don’t have Facebook or only have their agency doing it for them. For me it’s kind of essential. I’ve been around for a long time, but I also had a few years dip in my career around the year 2000 shortly after my son was born. I was staying at home not playing out and not making much in the studio either so I kind of dropped off the radar. Just when I was starting to think about job opportunities someone told me that I should join myspace which was happening at that time. I did it and it had an amazing dynamic to it.”
“People I hadn’t talked to in years from all over the world, Birmingham to San Francisco, would all of a sudden pop up saying ‘You’re still around! Would you like to come and play for us? We can only pay your flight and accommodation and a little symbolic fee but it would be lovely’. That’s how I got back into the scene without an agency, I was doing it myself via social media so I couldn’t diss it at all.”
“I think it’s fair, these people make my living and at least I should be humble enough to be accessible and talk to them.” Possibly an opinion that gets revised every time he’s flooded with guest list requests. “I must be doing something right because I think I get the nicest crowds in my parties and the nicest people so they never bother me, usually they are really nice. Sometimes, especially at Freerotation where everybody wants to have a word with you, it does get a little much. Especially if you’re kind of trying to buy some time off and get a little drunk or high or whatever, and then it can be too much physically or time wise. But I always feel bad about it and I’m sorry about the individual ones because they all deserve to be talked to; they’re interesting and I’m interested in who they are and what they’re doing.”
So, what’s coming up in the future? “I have a brand new release out, the KM20 Tapes Volume 2 on Off Minor. This is stuff that I did almost twenty years ago, but it is just coming out for the first time now and I’m really happy about this. Then there’s the Reagenz triple LP The Periodic Table that also just came out. There’s more Magic Mountain High coming out too, that’s just pending. Future plans I can’t really talk about but I’m always working on something, of course.”
Move D’s skill set expands beyond music. He only ever drinks red wine in the club, and I think he’s a bit of a connoisseur. My final question, which is his favourite? “That changes when I discover new ones. Lately I’ve been really into Primitivo.”
Move D plays Sankeys on New Year’s Eve alongside Kerri Chandler and more, tickets are on sale now.
As the days grow darker and colder, my heart grows increasingly heavy. I don’t yet feel ready to accept all that winter brings foodwise. So when my friend suggested a visit to Turtle Bay, Manchester’s new Rum ‘n’ Jerk shack, it seemed like a bright horizon on a dimming landscape.
The restaurant, which opened this summer, seems an exciting addition to Oxford Road. The space is massive, with a mezzanine filled with tables piled on top of the main bar and dining area. The atmosphere was buzzing; for seven on a Tuesday night, it was impressively full of customers. Everything is wooden or metal and boasts a look of reclaimed cool. Fairy lights twinkle alongside a neon sign spelling ‘jerk’. We couldn’t help but notice booths utilising commandeered Magic Bus benches as seating; either a relaxed nod to the restaurant’s inevitable student client base or a complete lack of foresight. Manchester’s student population was outraged when the bus company’s fares soared to over a pound; I am unsure how many would happily park their bums on the same shabby frames whilst paying a hell of a lot more.
Issues of public transport having ruffled our feathers, we looked to the cocktail menu for comfort. I went for the ‘Beachcombers Zombie’, knowing from experience that its traditional counterpart packs a punch. Comprising four rums, absinthe, bitters and tropical juice, I expected a more complex flavour than what I got, which was just an overwhelming fruity sweetness. My companion did better, choosing the ‘Reggae Rum Punch’, which was served shorter and had more of a kick. It is worth noting that all cocktails are two for one excepting a three-hour window between 7 – 10pm. We shelled out just short of seven pounds each. Although the price doesn’t much differ from most bars in central Manchester, knowing that they are clearly worth a lot less stung a little.
Unable to shake off our feeling of having been shortchanged, we skipped straight to the mains. My ‘Rastafari Run Down’ was a mix of butterbeans, root vegetables and pieces of corn on the cob in a coconutty sauce: a new and refreshing combination of flavours for me. Alongside came rice and peas, which were fairly standard, but the real attraction came in the form of fried dumplings, the doughy sponginess of which soaked up the sauce expertly. The array of condiments provided were a good shout; I’m always one for a sauce and enjoyed dolloping different and unfamiliar flavours on top of my meal. On the other side of the table, the mounting redness of my companion’s face either indicated some heavy-handed spicing or a man who cannot take the heat. Aside from this, he found his ‘Trinidad Curry Chicken’ well enough cooked and ate it all up. The food was pleasant, but at just under a tenner per dish, I would expect something a little less nonchalant.
Too poor to continue, we decided to settle up. We went Dutch and I put it all on card while my companion gave me cash. The waiter automatically passed the card machine over to my companion. Commenting properly on this error in judgement would necessitate an entire article (or book, or tome); all I will say is that it was a disappointing note on which to leave a restaurant I really wanted to like. Turtle Bay has a lot of potential as an individual and reliable establishment, but issues of price, quality and service hinder its success. I may give it another go in the hope of being corrected, but next time, I’ll arrive before seven.
Turtle Bay, 33–35 Oxford Street, Manchester, M1 4BH
Being a young middle class Englishman who’s never driven a pickup truck, country music isn’t something I had ever felt the need to involve myself with; until now my knowledge of the genre started with Taylor Swift and ended with that five minute period when Bon Jovi decided they wanted to go full Keith Urban.
(Side note: you never go full Keith Urban.)
But when I heard Darius Rucker, the man behind the ridiculously successful 90s band Hootie & the Blowfish, was touring his solo country project, I decided to go along – partly to try and see what all the fuss is about, and partly in the hopes I’d get to hear some of the big Hootie hits. And on both accounts, it was a success.
Opening with the summery single ‘Radio’, Rucker – backed by his hugely talented six piece band The Carolina Grey Boys – treated the packed out crowd to a typically laid back 90 minutes of his solo tracks, Hootie & the Blowfish classics and an eclectic mix of cover songs. His iconic voice – a rich baritone drawl – is still his music’s defining feature, and has lost none of its power in the decades since he shot to fame. What I found most surprising, though, is how seamlessly his old band’s output sits alongside his new Nashville-influenced work; banjo or no banjo, his music is still based around jangly, feel-good pop songs about the lives of regular people, whether it’s family man ballads like ‘This’ or wistful fan favourites such as ‘Let Her Cry’.
‘Time’ and ‘Only Wanna Be With You’, both from Hootie’s debut Cracked Rear View, proved to be highlights, with the latter being given a country-tinged makeover whilst staying respectful of its original folky arrangement, whilst more recent offerings such as ‘Southern State of Mind’ and ‘Don’t Think Don’t Think About It’ were performed with the type of emotive delivery fans have come to love from Rucker and his band, all of whom were given generous soloing time to show off their skills. The encore featured an elongated version of his new signature hit ‘Wagon Wheel’ and concluded with a rendition of Oasis’s ‘Champagne Supernova’, which, though admittedly a bizarre choice, was rapturously received – this is Manchester after all – and ended a rousing, uplifting show with yet another sing-along moment.
Greater Manchester Police are launching a new web app: Your call: Domestic Abuse. The app is aimed at increasing awareness amongst people about this important issue, too often under reported.
Your call: Domestic Abuse gives members of the public an opportunity to walk in the shoes of police staff and officers who respond to reports of domestic abuse from members of the public as well as understanding it from a victim’s point of view.
A promotional event for this campaign was hosted by GMP at the Trafford Centre on Wednesday 19thNovember. Explaining what the new key features of this app are, Detective Chief Superintendent Vanessa Jardine said: “The app is a scenario based experience. It is not based on real life, but from what we see regularly.
“It takes you through an incident and it makes you take some decision about what you may do. It gives you some suggestions: would you call the police now? Do you want the police to turn up? If you press the button and make a decision, the consequences of those decisions come as well. It encourages people to understand the issue and help them to make real choices.”
The web app has been launched ahead of the festive period, because statistics show that usually during Christmas holiday there is a significant increase in this kind of crime.
For example, figures show that between Christmas Eve and New Year’s Day last year there were 2096 reports made to police about domestic abuse. This compares to 1444 the previous year. The shocking statistics, showing a 45 per cent increase, highlight that the fight against domestic abuse is not over and that more work needs to be done.
D/C/Supt Vanessa Jardine observed: “This is a sad statistic which highlights the scale of the problem across Greater Manchester particularly during the festive period, when finances become tighter and tensions get higher.”
This is why everybody should be actively involved in reporting what happens around them. Not only the victims can call the police, but family, friends and neighbours should also be aware of the support services which are available.
Nowadays, there are several ways to obtain help if you are being subjected to domestic abuse in any of it forms — physical, sexual or psychological. This web app is one of the methods that GMP started to use to reach a wider range of people, thanks to a new kind of technology.
Anyone who feels that they are being abused by a partner, ex-partner or a family member can approach their GP or nurse for help. The Domestic Abuse Helpline is also available to offer support for victims on 0808 2000 247.
To access Victim Support’s services you can call, text, email, self-refer. To find out more about the range of services we can provide go to www.victimsupport.org.uk or call our Victim Care Unit in Manchester on 0845 456 8800.
For more information or to report abuse, you should contact the police on 101 or the Domestic Abuse Helpline on 0161 6367525. You can also visit the GMP website for more information www.gmp.police.uk/domesticabuse.
Chantei, 1st Year Politics and International Relations
First Impressions?
I was surprised because he looked a little older than I expected him to initially be, but he was very friendly and confident and made a very good impression.
What did you have to eat?
Butternut squash coconut curry.
Best Features and why?
He was really confident and funny. I like when guys are easy to talk to and keep the conversation going, especially when they aren’t too serious.
Is he your usual type?
Generally he wouldn’t be the guy I would be initially attracted to, but after talking to him he is definitely the kind of a guy I could find myself liking.
Did you have much in common?
We both like red wine and finished the bottle, which was really all that mattered.
Most interesting thing he told you?
He was studying law after finishing a history undergraduate degree, which was cool.
Weirdest thing he told you?
There was nothing that was particularly weird. I found it funny the amount of times he brought up hangover restaurants in the area, but otherwise there was nothing strange.
Any awkward moments?
I’d never met anyone who kissed both cheeks to say hello, so there was a bit of an awkward pause there when he went to say hi, but otherwise no.
What happened after you finished the meal?
We drank some wine for a bit and then left the restaurant and said goodbye.
How did you say goodbye?
We walked down the street and he kissed my cheeks goodbye and we walked our separate ways.
So you kissed?
He kissed my checks to say hello and goodbye.
Will you be meeting again?
I wouldn’t mind seeing him again, but no plans were made.
Marks out of ten?
7
Scott, Postgraduate Law student
First Impressions?
A great girl who seemed very easy to be around.
What did you have to eat?
Fish and chips. I’m from the North East so am somewhat of a fish and chips connoisseur but was still thoroughly impressed.
Her best features and why?
Gloriously big hair = fan!
Is she your usual type?
I don’t really have a usual type.
Did you have much in common?
A sickening love of wine and alcohol in general.
Most interesting thing she told you?
That she has lived in Canada, Singapore, and Nigeria.
Weirdest thing she told you?
Once did jelly shots with OAPs at an 80th birthday party.
Any awkward moments?
A beaten and drunken local tapped on the window to attract her attention, Amsterdam-esque.
What happened after you finished the meal?
Went our separate ways.
How did you say goodbye?
A kiss on the cheek, but nothing Shakespearean.
Will you be meeting again?
Unlikely, but she is a very interesting person who’s very fun to be around. A fantastic catch for somebody out there!
Marks out of ten?
7.5
Many thanks to Fallow Café, 2A Landcross Road, Fallowfield. As well as serving tasty meals, it also holds free gigs, regular film screenings and club nights. www.fallowcafe.com
Fancy a free meal and a date? Email:[email protected] with your name, year and course.
Listen to every podcast, every roundtable, every whisper in the wind: Louis CK is loved by all. Despite being one of the highest grossing comedians in the world, he is, undoubtedly, a man of the people. It’s a mystery how he’s managed to win the hearts of comedians, critics and civilians alike, but here we are. It’s 2014, and we have a man that can do no wrong, surely a dangerous position for anyone. Louis balances fatherhood and crippling cynicism in everything he does, and its absolute magic.
I know what you’re thinking, and yes, loving Louis CK is in no way a truth you can’t handle. (See above: everyone knows he’s great.) I’m saying, in the most hyperbolic way possible, he’s the best thing to happen to entertainment since Steve Martin went grey. The whole TV watching world should count their Lucky Louie stars that this man bestows upon us his creative output. I’m a mind reader; I know you’re wondering how significant one man can be, he’s just a comedian. Correct again! As much as other comedians can pontificate about the importance of comedy in today’s crazy messed up world, they all are, essentially, telling dick jokes. Louis CK the stand-up comedian is good — no argument. But Louis CK the story teller is on a whole other level.
I have nothing other than gushing admiration for the TV show Louie. It’s funny, not ha ha funny, more cosmically funny. A humour that makes you cry, not laugh. A humour that makes you examine every facet of your psyche. What does a 20 year-old English girl have in common with a 47 year-old divorced man with two children? Nothing, but — more importantly — everything. Are the rambunctious adventures of Lena Dunham and her rag-tag team of ‘friends’ supposed to resonate with me? Because I feel I have a lot more in common with a pasty, past-his-prime semi-sociopath than I do with them. Let’s take Louie the character out of the equation. The show itself is constructed with such subtlety and finesse; it’s enough to grip you. The casting, the infrequency, the digression; everything about this show screams pretension, but it’s so beautifully sincere you can’t help but be entranced. This element is what’s missing in a lot of shows right now, and is why it’s difficult to make comparisons between Louie and anything else. Louis, the man, is a poet unlike any other.
Demand was so high for Jamie T’s sold out Manchester show; he’s going to be coming back on the 17th November for round two. This may come as a surprise to some, seeing as four years ago Jamie T vanished off the face of the earth after touring second album Kings & Queens, and his silence during this absence was so intense it prompted many fans to speculate whether he was even still alive. His comeback album, Carry on the Grudge, dropped at the end of September, and subsequent anticipation for his return to the live circuit has been running high ever since.
Thankfully Jamie T’s return did not disappoint, and consisted of a lengthy 22 song career spanning set. The set was spattered with highlights from his first two albums, such as ‘Salvador’, ‘Sheila’ and ‘The Man’s Machine’. The crowd sang these songs word for word back at him, and welcomed him back like he’d never been away. Surprisingly nearly half of the set was made up of songs from his new album. These new songs sounded noticeably more mature than his earlier output, and it’s clear the long absence has seen Jamie T develop as a songwriter. His strong encore consisting of a stripped back solo version of ‘Calm Down Dearest’, recent single ‘Zombie’, and the ever rowdy ‘Sticks ’n’ Stones’, is clear evidence that both his old and new material can sit alongside each other.
You can’t help but feel pleased for Jamie T. The crowd rapturously received the whole set, and it was refreshing to see the singer challenging himself, not just resting on the laurels of his previous two albums. Let’s just hope that the forward looking nature of his set means that he won’t disappear again for another four years.
It’s safe to say that nothing is impossible when it comes to the world of film. Modern audiences are now accustomed to seeing superheroes flying around, saving the world, and fantastical voyages to the furthest corners of space. This sense of spectacle can sometimes be taken for granted and many films are guilty of allowing their visual effects to outweigh the quality of plot, all of which is a crying shame as movies are gradually losing their essence and their true purpose. It should be the story and the narrative that captivates the viewer and holds them till the very last frame. There is no need for false gimmicks or flashy sets; movies can be simplistic in scope and still ignite the same profound emotions.
Take the premise of 12 Angry Men; the majority of the film takes place in one claustrophobic room as 12 jurors decide the fate of a young man under trial for murdering his father. At first glance the decision seems like a forgone conclusion, except for one juror, played by the indomitable Henry Fonda, who believes differently. The tension amongst the men slowly reaches fever point as Fonda goes about opening their minds to how ambiguous the case actually is. As the heat escalates within the confined room, the jury swelter under the enormity of the pressure placed upon them.
The prejudices and misconceptions of each juror are spooled out, shedding new light on each character’s vivid personality. The characterisation of each juror is so thorough and detailed that no actor is left underserved. Special mention must be given to Lee J. Cobb who provides sterling work as the main antagonist of the piece. His emotional breakdown during the climatic moments of his stubborn confrontation humanises a character that may have seemed one-dimensional. The acting showpiece, however, comes from Fonda. Even when portraying a character with no name or back story, he is still able to develop a complete and whole person whom the audience can support. Most impressively, he does all this just through the power of passionate rhetoric. His calm persistence and determination, despite being alone in his stance, display a decency and courage that are inspiring. He is the everyman that every man wishes to emulate.
Sidney Lumet directs the film with intensity and measured pacing to ensure the viewer has no chance to catch their breath and is left aghast after each dramatic swing of the justice pendulum. Lumet trusts in the taut script and knows there is no need for ostentatious camerawork or increased action and the absorbing dialogue itself is enough to maintain the high level of suspense. It’s hard to believe this was his directorial debut. With universal themes that are just as relevant nearly 60 years on, 12 Angry Men has proven to be a lasting reminder of how pure and essential cinema can be.
