The View, Cord & Jakobinarina @ the Barfly

So Levi's are doing their "ones to watch" thing at the Barfly this evening. But all I can see are "ones to talk over the top of and possibly ignore".

Headlining tonight are The View, bless em. They're another retro band reliving the heady rock and roll days of the mythical East London music scene of ... ummm.. 4 years ago. With their own personal (probably signed in blood) copies of Up The Bracket they can even lay claim to knowing a Libertine or two (this being incestuous london an' all). But headliners they are not - not just yet - and not even in the skanky Barfly. We left after two songs. (The fat chicks down the front were lovin' it though.)

No one loves C/O/R/D as much as they do. They attempt to combine Keane with Queens of the Stone Age (!!!), and cross lines that should never even be looked at sideways. Christ save us. But in trying to be all things to all people they come across like sub pub rock Coldplay - desperate for regional radio air play. OK, so the singer might be a bit fit, but look beyond the rock posturing (ridiculous on the tiny Barfly stage) you only see a deep pool of emptyness, in which he can check out his reflection.

The one glimmer of hope and saving grace from this evenings unrelenting crapness comes from a bunch of punky school kids from Iceland, (or somewhere bloody cold and mostly dark for a good portion of the year), Jakobinarina. First on the stage tonight, we very nearly miss them (due to our reluctance at leaving the cosy Lock Tavern). But from we did see, they were much fun and could possibly be brilliant in about 5 years time, thats if they all don't splinter off and from lots more excellent bands. Young, so very, very young, dumb and full of carling, this pubescent Clash were the ones we really should have been watching tonight!

we love our rock and roll ...

with gypsy rags and mindless goals .. la la la la la la la la

iLiKETRAiNS & Lupen Crook @ the Metro Club

Oh the Metro Club is only tiny but it feels like every tall lanky bastard has decided to come along tonight and place their bean pole body between me and the stage! Add to this the fact that they all they seem to do is chatter and quack, like a flock of geese, and I'm fit to kill by the end of Lupen Crook's first song!!

Luckily it seems that so is he - and Crook matches my bile with his own, hissing his acerbic lyrics at the, unfortunately oblivious, fashionista audience. "Kids of only 17, they don't know what you mean, but love the London scene!" Intensly charismatic, he's a pretty boy spitting acid, but his filthy (good) looks are wasted on em!

If I thought the braying scensters would shut up for tonights headliners I was mistaken - twats. Still, this next lot can be bloody loud when they want to be and with a name like iLiKETRAiNS - how can they not be brilliant as well? They work the tension/release format into mini prog rock epics and end by getting the first support, (who we missed) back on stage for a proggy wank fest of a finale.

But I suspect that this type of music is slightly lost on me. Maybe it works better with the visuals (missing this evening), but I did find myself drifting off a few times. Ultimately I thought they lacked focus or energy and their sophoric prog would be better suited to a depressed teen's bedroom. Not that they're actually rubbish though, not by a long shot. When the TRAiNS properly wig out it is very entertaining indeed. So good - but only if you like that kinda thing. (and it seems that everyone else does). Luce tells me that I wouldn't like Lambchop either.
I'll take her word for it.

The Rakes @ the Islington Academy

This evening Fringey managed to get hold off some free tickets to a Converse sponsored RAKES gig. Yey us!

But rarely do we get to see a band who are so spectacularly shite as this evenings first support, Lorca. (If you don't believe me then take a look at their website and tell me you don't want to punch them.)

Lorca don't seem to care that they are the hybrid spawn of a crap Kasabian and a bollocks Bravery. They casually abuse our ears with derivative songs, held together with bits of string and tramp juice. The ‘singer’ for all his rock posing can’t actually sing. At all. Although I was impressed by their guitarists ability to maintain a steady slack jawed chewing action on his wrigley's spearmint throughout the entire set. Please, somebody save us... !

Next up were The Heavy. Not what we were expecting from a Rakes support, but they brought the funk with them and, dodgy sound aside, they were an unexpected treat.

So finally tis the Rakes – oh and how they've changed. ... They’ve only gone and messed about with the clean production of the album! Now we can hear echoing vocals, heavy bass and rocking guitars, making for a bigger, stronger, more robust sound. Unlike the Rakes themselves, it turns out that these tunes have muscle!

But Donahoe is still a strungout ball of energy, all jerky dance moves and hyperactivity. He easily alters his already sharp lyrics to suit the occasion and his tireless efforts to whip the crowd (many of whom didn’t even know who the Rakes were at the start of the night) into a frenzy of arm waving indie sweatiness are successful. The entire performance zips along in no time at all and they get through most of the album, some new songs and even old b side - ‘Ausland Mission’!! Lovely. And all this for free, courtesy of Conversemusic.


ta muchly.

Meanwhile Luce gets absolutely enraged by Rakes support Lorca!

lets go goth!

So we saw the opening day of the O2 Wireless Festival earlier in the week, but now its the final night and we're here for one thing. Niteversions.

But more on Soulwax later.

We kick of with OK Go! Who'd have thought they were such rock monsters? They even remembered to thank James Blunt for opening for them the previous evening and then reinacted the genius dance to ‘Million Ways’ - quite brilliant. New Young Pony Club, had a late start, but we saw enough to know that might be quite good in a club. Saw about 3 mins of Fratellies, another sub Libertines and looking old enough to know better, while we were dashing into the O2 bubble to see Viva Voce, who were a beautiful surprise. Two lovely gentle girlies giving it some wall of guitar sound action, working a woozy blissed out retro sixties vibe. A bit lush and trippy, but with a proggy wiggout at the end. Then off to have a look at some Good Books, sixth form poshos producing quite edgy guitar numbers and we liked the fat ginger bass player, made us laugh and were not at all commercial, well done. Then another dash back to the xfm tent (past the pimms bar of course) for Matisyahu – genius, an unexpected treat round these parts, kosher dub reggae!

Then, at last, Soulwax doing the remixed Niteversion of their own album 'Any Minute Now', our reason for getting up this morning! Dressed head to toe in brilliant white they look - literally - untouchable and don't even bother with vocals for the first 5/10 minutes - then 'Miserable Girl' kicks in – oh yes indeedy. Lots of space to dance as well. At the end we were approached by a nice young chap who insisted on being told "WHO WAS THAT"???

Then back out to the mainstage for the tail end of Goldfrapp, I wasn’t a huge fan, but she is a beautiful saucy lady and is amazing live, sounded fabulous. Then there was just time to squeeze in Gang of Four. They were heavier than I thought they’d be, but have a fantastic fresh sound and could be from 20 minutes ago, not 20 years. Unfortunately I absolutely couldn’t watch them. At all. They're far too old to still be doing the punk thing from a stage and I cannot bare, bare chested dad dancing, even if it is from rock legends. I might be ageist, but it doesn’t make it right. Then finally, Depeche Mode, (aka the Gay Goths) who completely killed the mood for us with their scary obsessive fans and unexpectedly depressing electro. So we ditched them and went for hot chocolate, (but made sure we were back in time for camptastic ‘Personal Jesus’). They're the Goth Erasure, which was a tiny bit funny. Gay Goths with a God complex - lovely. And home by 11pm. So very civilised.

Sleb spots were Alex Zane (as always), just outside the Pimms/Champagne bar looking girlish and pretty (as always), and Darius Danesh, who is surprisingly tall and good looking, but couldn't get his arse into the VIP area fast enough.

Hyde Park goes all skinny tie and straw trilby

So Fringey are at this years O2 Wireless festival. Again.

HURRAH!

We kick off in the Xfm tent, with the Pigeon Detectives, who are pretending to be the Kooks covering Hot Hot Heat, blah, - but they are very bouncy – (and the singing chappie will have someones eye out with that mic!) - Then its to the main stage for Gogol Bordello, doing their fabulous screwball gypsy folk thing, they steal the show and own that main stage with their cymbals, drums and bucket bashing - mad as nails! - Next up are the Young Knives, who do have good tunes, but are not as good as I hoped they’d be, they cover by being funny and charming. - Then was the Dirty Pretty Things - yummy. Unfortunately it was very windy and the sound was totally pants, we couldn’t tell the difference between 'Death on the Stairs' and 'Gin and Milk'. (And I'm not being sarcastic.)

Phew! A quick breather and more pimms, then its off to the Myspacca tent for the Cazals, who try to sound like Dogs or Weller, but rubbish vocals and a singer who looks like a rat lets them down somewhat. - So we bin them and go to the O2 Blueroom for a bit of Dirty Little Faces, (average garage rock). - Before hightailing it to the xfm stage for Super Furry Animals! - (we walked past the mainstage while the Rac*ntours were on. They do annoy me, but that Brendan Benson looks a bit filthy.)

AND WE CAN'T GET IN!!! So while Bellend and Sebastian were boring everyone to tears, tweeing their tits off all over mainstage, the Super Furry tent is completely oversubscribed and can't squeeze us in. We danced about under the trees outside for a bit, but not being in the tent was well annoying, so off we went to catch the end of White Rose Movement. Who were ... ... surprisingly quite good!! So not at all like the last few times we’ve seen em, when they were utter crap. The God of Large Corporate Sponsored Music Events must have been smiling down on us, as the Movement kept all their excellent singles for the end of their set and we didn’t have to sit through any of the album filler. Also, Finn has finally had that rod removed from his arse, or maybe they’d just had access to a free bar somewhere? Anyway, this was kinda how we always thought they should/could be. A bit sleazier, a bit dirtier.

So we danced and danced and danced out the tent, to the loos (using the fairground music from the dodgems to keep going), to the bar and down to The Strokes - we may have been a bit tipsy.

The thing about the Strokes is they’re a rubbish festival band*, they have no big singalong chorus’ ('Last Night' is an exception) and most of the vocals are mumbled. Yet tonight they are on form, Julian is chatting with the front rows and is not pissed, they seem to be having a 'fab' time. But their edgy New York cool does not work on a breezy summers evening in Hyde Park. (If ever a band needed to be under a low ceiling in a dirty club somewhere!) And, as with the DPT’s, the wind snatches the sound and flings it into the ether and away from our ears. Most inconvenient. I still love em tho and they cover ‘Walk on the Wild Side’.

Doo da doo da doo do doo de do ……

So then its onto a Sunday night out with the Goths!


* Except at Benicassim, where they were completely brilliant. I obviously don't know what I'm talking about.

Larrikin Love @ KCLSU

Its GLORIOUS summer sunshine outside, so Fringey have decided that it is Pimms o’clock in the Kings College SU and we are doing our absolute level best NOT to be mistaken for skint fashion students, (who are currently rammed into every available corner of the Union).

Don't get me wrong we love the supper individual dress sense of the London indie elite, both boys and girls! The strange way they essentially all look the same, have the same asymmetric feathered mullet and wear the same skinny jeans with eye crossing striped/polka dotted tops. And on this occasion there are even a few Paddington Bear pedal pushers kicking about, in honour of tonight’s headliners – Larrikin Love!

The Larry Loves are *deep breath* dub, reggae, ska, gypsy, folk, blue grass, calypso, cajun, jangly indie, indie skank, twee, garage punk, punk rock ….. I could go on and on. They’re a wonderful eclectic mish mash of all sorts of stuff, but it all seems to work out marvellously well. (Ed Larrikin isn't kidding when he sings that everything he adores came well before 1984 in 'Downing St. Kindling'). They sound like they've been around for ages – but I doubt any of the band have even cracked 20 yet!

Unlike the Water Rats gig, tonights musical stylings lean more towards dub/janglyindie than folk. They’ve got a trombone instead of a fiddle and an extra set of girl pipes on backing vocals. As a noise made by a bunch of second generation Irish chancers, its not so much ceilidh as a punky pogoing free for all. Ed, on vocals, smiles beatifically at the hot sweaty indie kids, dancing their stripey socks off and bangs away at his cowbell.

Ohhhh…. it might just be the sunshine and the gin (cause that’s what pimms is made of you know) that’s made us a bit giddy, but we are loving Larrikin Love and you should too!