Jarvis Cocker - Further Complications

Britpop was a strange spell for music in Blighty. At the time it seemed like a wonderful celebration of a new dawn in the country - unapologetic and exciting. Looking back though, it was actually narcissistic, coke-fuelled and wrapped in hideously brash lad-culture. However, while the likes of Blur and Oasis disappeared up their own arses during this time, there was one band whose album (Different Class) connected perfectly with the life of the underdog, the indie underclass who avoided Loaded in favour of Melody Maker. It shouldn't have been surprising that Pulp came out of that era with more credit than most. They had already been around for donkeys' years and, in Jarvis Cocker, had a captivating frontman who wrote stories that were gritty, witty and true. While others concerned themselves with big houses in the country, Pulp's world was one of bedsits with piss-stained lifts.

Over a decade on, Cocker is still telling such stories, now as a solo artist. His first album, The Jarvis Cocker Record, went down a storm with critics, so it is with much excitement (especially to a reviewer like me who considers the man close to Godlike) that Further Complications lands. Despite looking beardy and distinguished on the cover, the album takes on a raucous, occasionally Stooges-esque direction. Fitting to this reproach, legendary grunge producer Steve Albini was brought on board. Anyone who knows about Albini will be aware that crashing drums and big guitars are part of his game-plan, while vocals stay low down in the mix.

And, if there is a problem with Further Complications, it lies here. Rather than being complimented by the turned-up-to-eleven sound, Cocker's genius wordplay is often drowned out, as he finds himself yelling just to be heard. While I'm sure songs like Pilchard and Angela will be fantastic fun played live with Cocker shuffling his gangly frame across the stage, all arms, legs and glasses, on record they just seem to lack the nuances that make him such a revered songwriter. Indeed, it is no coincidence that the album's high points all occur when the noise abates (and the sax solos are nowhere to be heard), like the beautiful Leftovers, which is a love song that perhaps falls closest to his This Is Hardcore-era Pulp days. Viced by reality, yet painfully fragile, he croons: "Trapped in a body that is failing me/Well, please allow me to be succinct/I wanna love you whilst we both still have flesh upon our bones/Before we both become extinct." There is more gorgeous wordplay on I Never Said I Was Deep, where he tells us, "I never said I was deep/but I am profoundly shallow/My lack of knowledge is vast/and my horizons are narrow."

When Further Complications is good, it's great, and the fact that it's slightly disappointing in places is probably just down to the high standards that Cocker has set himself. And if there is a lesson to be learnt here, it's that when you have as much to say as Jarvis Cocker and can say it so eloquently, you shouldn't go drowning it out. Cocker's is a voice that needs to be heard.

Trekstock 2009

When music and charity mix, it often amounts to little more than ego-massaging pomp; Bono and Eddie Vedder getting all dewy-eyed as they hold hands at centre-front of stage and set about saving the world by singing Neil Young covers while Madonna adopts her 37th African child. Thank goodness then for the delightful Trekstock, which just gets on with raising money without such self-congratulation.

Trekstock began in 2006, when London-based good egg, Sophie Epstone, needed to raise some dosh to embark on a trek to Everest in support of Teenage Cancer Trust. To do so, she put on a small, fundraising gig. Since then, the events have grown in size and support for the cause has become widespread, with a number of celebrities happy to show get involved. Beth Ditto, Katy Perry (below), Mischa Barton, Kings of Leon, Agyness Deyn, Klaxons, The Mighty Boosh, Jarvis Cocker, Russell Brand, Albert Hammond Jnr, Kate Nash (below), The Horrors, Radio 1's Chris Moyles, Zane Lowe and Alan Carr all wear their Trekstock badges with pride. Trekstock has, thus far, raised thousands of pounds for Teenage Cancer Trust.
On May 13th, the charity returns for its fourth year of fundraising gigs with a launch night that sees Mark Ronson and some famous mates play at Proud in Camden, London. The supercool night will also mark the launch of a new range of Trekstock clothing and accessories, designed by Will Broome, Kate Moross, Laura Lees and Tatty Devine. If you can spare a few quid and want to get along to support a fantastic cause, then get your ticket to the gig from seetickets.com. As with previous events, it is sure to be an insanely cool night, as the young, talented and beautiful do their bit to help out the six teenagers a day that are diagnosed with cancer in the UK. If you are a facebooker (and who isn't nowadays?), then why not join the group?

The Latitude Festival 2007, UK

Even though I'm back in Blighty, I'm still writing for Drum Media. Here is my review of England's Latitude festival, which included a great set by New Young Pony Club (below):Blazing sunshine at a festival in England? Surely not? Well, in contrast to the mud-bath that was Glastonbury, The Latitude Festival was played out to gorgeous blue skies in the most picturesque setting imaginable, on the banks of a lake in the Suffolk countryside.

As well as being the most aesthetically-pleasing festival in England, the relatively new three-day event also boasted an outstanding line-up, which included a couple of Sydney bands. Tucked away on a stage in the woods, Howling Bells offered a suitably atmospheric set as the sun went down behind pink skies.

Meanwhile, in front of a large crowd, folk siblings Angus and Julia Stone (below) told beautiful tales of love and pain plucked from their upcoming debut album, before raising the roof with a delicious rendition of Chumbawumba’s Tubthumping. The rapturous reception and yelled proclamations of love that they received suggests that England is falling for their unquestionable charm in the same way that Australia is. Theirs is a star which continues to ascend at pace.On the main stage, which frustratingly suffered from sound problems all weekend, the legendary Jarvis Cocker played a cover version that rivalled Angus and Julia’s. His rendition of Eye Of The Tiger ended a stunning display which was punctuated by him casually chatting to the crowd about everything from cloud formations to politics. It was a performance which cemented Cocker’s place as one of the most charismatic frontmen of all-time.

While the muddy sound emanating from the PA was usually nothing more than a minor annoyance throughout the weekend, it was woeful to the point of being offensive during Midlake’s short set. Soldiering on, the Americans were joined onstage for Roscoe by the busiest band of the festival, The Magic Numbers, who also turned up to help Damien Rice end his epic performance with a bang. The brother/sister quartet had earlier played their own set, which once again proved they are the perfect festival band. Singing along to their harmonies under a clear blue sky certainly beat getting soaked to the skin while watching them in the torrential rain at The Great Escape earlier this year too.Brazilian indietronica/dance sextet CSS (above) brought the party to Latitude with their infectiously poppy tunes. On a stage bedecked in helium balloons, vocalist Lovefoxxx danced with abandon in glittery cat-suits so wonderfully garish that even Karen O might have thought twice about wearing them. By the time the mesmeric frontwoman belted out crowd-favourite Let’s Make Love And Listen To Death From Above, Latitude had turned from being a quaint part of the English countryside into the best disco ever. Similarly, on the same tiny stage that Howling Bells played, New Young Pony Club (below) went off. Literally. The crowd went so nuts to the Londoners’ dancey tunes that the plug had to be pulled on their show due to safety concerns.Elsewhere, Albert Hammond Junior (below) proved himself to be more than just the guitarist with big hair from The Strokes by playing an outstanding, pop-tinged set with the backing of a ridiculously tight band. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah put in a performance that split the crowd in two, with fans loving it while the uninitiated struggled to overcome the abrasive vocals. Having previously made a guest appearance on stage during New York folk singer Elvis Perkins’ appealing set, Cold War Kids ended their own energetic and well-received show with the storming Hang Me Up To Dry. Herman Dune played kooky guitar tracks, Joan As Policewoman combined the magical elements of Cat Power, Kate Bush and Regina Spektor and Au Revoir Simone’s dreamy synth tunes were perfect for a sunny afternoon.On Sunday night, the festival was brought to a majestic close by art-rockers Arcade Fire. Theirs was an utterly thrilling performance, and it was an indication of their awesome songwriting that, even though they only have two albums under their belt, their show played like a greatest hits set. As thousands of sunburnt Brits danced and sang along to No Cars Go and Neighbourhood #3, it became clear that Latitude can seriously rival Glastonbury as the best British festival, with its beautiful setting, chilled out vibe and no end of art, poetry, theatre and great bands to enjoy. Now all they need to do is sort out those sound problems on the main stage.