I came. I went. I jawed. I saw ...

Tapes 'n Tapes @ Dingwalls, Camden

Well I did say I wanted more Tapes n Tapes after I last saw em at the Barf, and they don’t disappoint.

Banging out the album in the sold out Dingwalls they are having a fantastic time, they know they’re on their way to rock and roll glory and they’re gonna enjoy every minute of it. Unfortunately this time round Josh isn't too bothered with chatting up and charming the audience, but then Lock 17 is a good bit bigger than the barfly. Anyhoo, the tunes no longer need any introduction, we all have the album and can yell along to “Cowbell” and “Insistor” if we feel like it. Many people feel like it. They end on “Jakov’s Suite” and for a moment (as always) I think they’re going to launch into a bizarre cover of Art Bruts “Good Weekend”. (I can’t be the only one who hears it??) But they don’t.

They don’t need no gimmicks to win us over. (FYI - french horns, sleigh bells and cowbells are not gimmicks, but genuine precussion instruments!). They just need to get on that there stage and play!

Support was from the retro electro two piece To My Boy, whose futuristic synth stylings were quite fabulous and strange, kinda like Clor, but more quirky. If thats possible.

Our only complaint is that there is a chronic lack of free badges and stickers this time round, which is a bit disappointing, but you can’t have everything.

Till next time then.

The Vines & the View at the Forum

Oh The Vines are back in town. They've been gone ages - and at one point we thought they'd never be coming back. So what are they like now?

Well, they played all the hits – the shouty screamy ones, the swirly whirly ones (although less swirly now without the lush production) and the inbetweeny ones. But I found the entire show ever so slightly underwhelming. Possibly proving that there is a time and a place for everything and for the Vines that time was 2002. Oh dear.

They finally hit bottom with an outstandingly poor rendition of the lovely "Autumn Shades" (cats drowning in a sack). I was even thinking about leaving, when suddenly they whip out "Ride" - and the audience finally find their moshing shoes. (not me tho, I’m in heels). By the time they get to the encore the entire night is turned on its head and they bang out the quite fantastic "Get Free" and then an unexpected cover of "Miss Jackson", before closing on "Feck the World" and trashing of guitars and drum kit (for old times sake). Thank goodness. Was almost a bit worried there.

I could mention that yes Craig is no longer mental, has obviously been at the pies, and yes, does desperately need to get his hair sorted, but there was also really nice matey directness between him and the audience and you could tell he wasn’t entirely sure of himself (or off us for that matter) which made for a different – if less exciting – experience.

The less said about tonights support - The View - the better. I really tried to like em, honest guv, but they don’t make it easy do they. A bit of focus, maybe an original guitar riff or a completely new musical direction might help.

G&T with Jamie T in the Ginglik

So, I’ve managed to talk a friend with T-Mobile to take me to a ‘street gig’ with Jamie T – at the rather intimate (boiling hot!) Ginglik Club (formerly a Victorian public convenience!) - Hurrah! She’s never even heard of Mr T or his minimalist, no frills approach to the performance ethic, but is happy enough to come see what I’ve been banging on about.

Tonight a cheeky, chatty Jamie is without his backing band (The Selfish Sons). Its just him on his stool at the front of the room, his music a hybrid of lo fi hip hop and folk (without samples or backing tapes). He, literally, lets his words do the talking* and leaves the articulate observant lyrics to cut their own way through the tiny claustrophobic room, painting rough verbal sketches of life lived at the edges. Or in Putney, as the case may be. A compelling combination of spoken songs (or is it sung poetry?) with a barely there backing of bass guitar, the verses practically trip over each other in an effort to get out and tell their bleak urban tales. All the while, deceptively cheerful rhyming couplets lend themselves to singalong choruses. The crowd holler along at appropriate moments.

He ends with biggest single so far, ‘Sheila’, and some more audience participation.

Altogether now:

“LAANDAHN!!!”



*I think the kids call it ‘flow’.