Liz Green - O Devotion

It seems fitting that singer/songwriter Liz Green recorded her debut album O Devotion within the urban confines of East London's Hackney, a gritty borough notorious for housing some of London's moodier bands. Hailing from Northern UK, Green should be no stranger to this, for Manchester is a city championed for creating pop music's finest broodier moments.

However musically similar these environments though, I suspect moodiness is not entirely what Green should be seeking. O Devotion carries quite a heavy burden. To listen to it in its entirety requires a sturdy spirit, or perhaps an aged whiskey will get you through, as it is laden with saddened characters and tales of woe. None so evident as in closing track Gallows, "They'll take you to the gallows at nine o'clock sharp... I always knew you'd bring me down".

As well as lyrically, a lot of the tension is surely provided by the instrumentation, french horns and tubulars drag their heavy feet underneath an already grim soundtrack without always needing to be there. For this reason, part of me can't help but feel slightly misled. See, I don't at all doubt the authenticity of Liz Green as an artist. Her live performances are rumoured to be full of fairytales and puppetry, her personality, apparently, intriguing enough to rival that of folk magician Joanna Newsom, but the issue really is that I just don't think the songs themselves are as strong as her identity. Her voice, which has been likened to that of legend Billie Holliday, does bare some resemblance, but really, only in that it permanently floats in a lower register. There isn't nearly enough versatility to carry you through an entire album.

Unlike folk/blues contemporaries Allela Diane or Cat Power, who manage to craft albums which effortlessly weave inspired lyrics and melodies, Liz Green's O Devotion is an album strong on ideas, yet weak on melodies and song structures. Save for a sullen day with that aged bottle of Macallan.

Review by Golden Lady

Wavves at Hoxton Bar and Kitchen, London

Golden Lady hit London's East End to check out Wavves:

Raucous, loud, sweaty and punky. Wavves are everything you want in a modern day Californian punk rock band.

Friendlier than Fugazi, darker than their musical ancestors, Minor Threat, yet poppier than Jay Reatard, with whom they share former members, they are a fun, clever, scuzzy band who prove throughout the night to be full of healthy contradictions.

A messy start to what continues to feel like a pretty messy show is, nonetheless, engaging and enthralling, largely due to the raw performance of band members and those smart, hooky power punk songs recalling threads of early Nirvana.

Founder and singer of the band, Nathan Williams punches through each track with apparent pride that forgoes any of the nonchalance he assumes between songs. Laughing at his own jokes and complaining about broken strings and bad sound doesn't quite suit the atmosphere, nor the bands reputation. But this doesn't seem to bother the mostly ‘young dude’ crowd who are waiting patiently for the next moment of fuzzed out guitar wattage and noise-inducing disharmony, which preempts nearly every track in the set.

Things are definitely more engaging when the band are playing, pouncing and swallowing up the sonic space with their potent melodies.

Opener King of the Beach remains one of the highlights of the show - a perfect combination of surf, pop-punk and melodic glory. Other tracks Take on the World and Green Eyes are standouts, the latter, with its unaffected lyrics (“My own friends hate me/But I don't give a shit”) and vocal waverings, once again channelling Kurt Cobain. Super Soaker reminds me of Best Coast, or perhaps it’s the other way around, who’s to know?

There are songs in between that tumble into the next without much consideration, my attention wafts in and out, occasionally focusing on a stupendously drunk girl who seems intent on body surfing into a mostly well-behaved crowd. But then the band hit with one of those perfect skuzzed out moments and all is forgiven.

Bruises and all, Wavves are undoubtedly an exciting buzz of a band, reaching for something more than just post teenage tantrums and vague ambition.

Review by Golden Lady. See her own blog here. 

Photo borrowed with a loving kiss from our friends over at Rip It Up.

A Place to Bury Strangers - Worship

Golden Lady gives a listen to the sonic madness of A Place to Bury Strangers: 

There's undoubtedly a formula in creating a shoe gazer's soundtrack. It requires a healthy disregard for your audience, a distant love of Spector-ish pop and an orchestra of distortion and fuzz flattening anything in its path. It's chaotic and insensitive and when made honestly, can be earth-shatteringly beautiful.

A Place to Bury Strangers are indeed no strangers to this. Having toured alongside modern day pioneers, The Brian Jonestown Massacre, BRMC and their own musical heroes The Jesus and Mary Chain, APTBS have had time to focus and hone in on their sound. And in a day and age when bands feel the obligatory urge to switch and change sounds with the fashion, it's always a delight when artists stick to their guns, without so much as a contemplative doubt.

Lucky for this particular band, they capture the enormity of the genre brilliantly. There are moments of real sonic madness. Album opener, Alone, is the closest you'll get to a single, or a pop song, if you will. Dissolved starts off like a lost Interpol track and then moves back into familiar Jesus and Mary Chain territory. The album slides in and out of chaos and beauty. Rage and sadness. Closing track Slide, however, provides the most interesting sonic shift on the album. Edging into electronic territory and ever so fragile, it had me suddenly wishing more tracks had followed in its path. Hopefully an indicator of where they'll head next.

In the meantime, Worship is a claustrophobic, focused and deviant album. It will no doubt inspire those already worshipping at the alter of Shoegazing. However, unsurprisingly, most will find this a little difficult to swallow.

But I can guarantee that isn't in any way a focal point for A Place to Bury Strangers, instead they allow for the power and madness of their music to be appreciated by whomever is brave and open minded enough.

Review by Golden Lady

Deap Vally interview

Golden Lady gets to grips with the latest buzz band from The States:

Deap Vally, a duo hailing from the San Fernando Valley in California, have managed to create a small tidal wave of a buzz within the music industry of late. Visually it’s not hard to see why, they flitter somewhere between Fast Times at Ridgemont High and Dazed and Confused. Musically it’s even more obvious, take a dash of Sabbath, mix with a splash of Heart and a holler of Karen O and you get the very wonderful Deap Vally!

Like all super hyped bands, it usually takes one flame to ignite industry fire, as is happening now. From the creative cliques of LA to the heavy buzz of UK industry, where much revered chronicles such as The Guardian and The Independent have singled the band out as definite ones to watch. Not to mention, pioneers of great hype themselves NME Magazine, boldly labeling them “a hippie Karen O fronting Black Sabbath”.

Speaking with foxy singer Lindsey Troy, one gets the sense that both her and sassy drummer, Julie Edwards, are more than aware of the spell they’re casting. I enquire as to whether getting such a wide array of comparisons is at all overwhelming. “Our influences are so vast, it’s always interesting to hear which of them stick out to people. We're both huge Led Zeppelin fans, so getting that comparison is always exciting.”

Without having so much as released a single yet, they are already filling slots at UK festivals such as Reading, Leeds and Latitude, with a handful of shows in between. Acknowledging the achievement thus far, Lindsey tells me she’s more excited about the festivals than anything. "I love music festivals. I love the sense of community that is created. I can't wait to melt some faces.”

And speaking of community, like so many LA based creative forces, there is a definite sense of artistic fellowship which permeates. You often hear stories of actors helping out fellow musicians or vice versa and their story is no different. Their mascot being none other than indie hero/villain Vincent Gallo, who has been championing the band since their incarnation a little over a year ago, when he contacted them on Myspace to profess his love and support. He is regularly seen cheering them on at shows, where one may have also recently spotted Marilyn Manson heckling them front row ……as you do!

But they definitely take this all in their stride, never hesitating to be equally as supportive and encouraging towards those around them. “We've met a lot of very inspiring people on our journey as a band, and I would definitely say that some of them have impacted our development. For example, we have a good friend whom we met last year, a designer who goes under the name Kittinhawk [her real name is Allysun Maria Dutra], who we have formed a really fruitful creative relationship with. She has designed a number of our staple stage outfits. We all bounce ideas off one another and the end result is always amazing”

Reinforcing this positive spirit is the lyrical content and message you get from Deap Vally’s music. From lead single Gonna Make My Own Money to scorcher End of the World (“there’s no time like the present, so open up our hearts and let love shine in”), one can’t help but feel uplifted and energised. “We're very conscious of the messages we put in our songs” says Lindsey. “They empower and inspire us, and I hope that they have the same effect on others.”

Something tells me this is already happening!

Interview by Golden Lady

Deap Vally release their debut single Gonna Make My Own Money in the UK on July 30th.
Keep up to date with all their goings on at www.facebook.com/deapvally or www.twitter.com/deapvally

White Denim at HMV Forum, London

Golden Lady checks out the White Denim gig in London:

Hailing from the eponymous music capital, Austin, Texas, this now four-piece, blues-tinged, psych-rock band proceed to take the stage for what will surely be one of the more electrifying and musically expansive gigs one could hope to see this year.

Unlike some other recent overhyped and fussed over retro bands of late, White Denim have somehow managed to escape the overblown smoke machines, which has clearly worked in their favour. The crowd in the packed out HMV Forum appear to be solely there for the music, and you can tell. With sweaty palms and empty beer cups already floating about the room in anticipation, the band appear on the stage and break out into a full blown jam from their most recent album D, which will set the tone for the rest of the evening.

With definite moments of 1960’s guitar heroism, aka Hendrix, Cream, maybe even Jeff Beck, this feels like a modern day version with added streams of prog rock and straight up dirty blues. It’s difficult to escape the obvious comparisons to The Black Keys, however these guys are far less basic. Their clear disregard for simplicity and, dare I say it, radio friendly songs, make them a much more interesting and fascinating band to watch within the live arena.

Regularly deviating from the recorded versions of their songs, they delve into deep and intense instrumental cacophonies, which you can’t help but become completely transfixed by. And quite honestly, it's a fucking breath of fresh air to watch musicians who are clearly indebted to their musical heritage and form. Man, can they play!

It never tends to get over indulgent nor do they disregard the audience at any point.  Tracks Is and Is and Is and Shake, Shake, Shake get an especially great response, whilst other songs, like the country-tinged Keys, display what various shades and tints this band are capable of wearing.

My only criticism at all is that I found myself wishing that the production side of things were even remotely as electrifying as the band itself. Without any significant lighting or stage set up, nor communication from the band, I cant help but feel this is what might set this apart from any other exhilarating rock show filling out venues of this size right now.

That aside, White Denim are a wonderful band and this was a truly unforgettable gig.

Review by Golden Lady. Check out her own blog here.

Friends at Scala, London

Bobbysix.com contributor Golden Lady checked out Friends' recent gig in London. Here are her thoughts:

Somewhere between Madonna’s Get into the Groove and Mariah Carey’s Touch My Body, lives a slightly demented lovechild of the two, named Friends. Still relatively unknown, however no less a buzzworthy band hailing from Brooklyn, New York.

They possess what looks and sounds to be a few decades' worth of hand-me-down hip-hop-meets-punkish musical references. If you've heard their breakout single I’m His Girl and watched the achingly cool film clip which accompanies, like me, you’ll have been pretty sure that this bunch were in possession of something devastatingly sassy.

Dreamy, cheeky, retro Hip Pop, worthy of crushing in a major way.

Last week I went to see them play live at Scala. A crowd of this measure and seeming anticipation could make even the least cynical punter overly cautious. Especially seeing as the band have not yet released an album.

New comers Aluna George, a duo hailing from London, were supporting. Despite only catching the last two tracks, I glimpsed enough of lead singer Aluna’s super cool vibe to know we’ll be hearing a helluva lot more from them.

Next stop, Brooklyn!

Five totally mismatched, mis-aged and mystifyingly various characters appear on stage. The more engaging of the bunch being the two gals: lead singer Samantha Urbani with her playful, goth get-up and flung gold cape and Lesley Hann on back up vox/bass/percussion.

As song one merges into song two and then three, it became increasingly obvious that none of the three other dudes in the band had any interest in engaging with each other, or indeed the crowd. While this can definitely work in some scenarios, such snobbery doesn't work when you are basically a basement party band.

There’s no denying at all that Samantha is incredibly engaging. If anything, she’s a sweetly geeky front girl, inelegantly clunking her way from one side of the stage to another, occasionally sharing some endearingly affectionate moments with crowd members. And whilst glued to her side of stage, moody bass player Lesley provided the youthful angst, necessary for balance's sake.

Stand outs included the dreamy Friend Crush and 90’s R&B throwback My Boo. However, like so many other hugely hyped-up bands, everyone is searching for a magical moment or two, a reason to support the hysteria, which didn’t totally surface.

Most of the other tracks came over like some high school, jokester band put together by Vice Magazine or maybe American Apparel. With the lack of connection between the band, on top of not being the greatest sound ever heard at Scala, one couldn't help but feel like they were playing the background in a B-grade John Hughes film which never quite made the light of day. After a few more shows and a handle on just how potent a band they could be, things may be different.

I look forward to seeing them again, after the buzz may have hushed a little and they’ve more of an arsenal of gigs to draw from, as opposed to a handful of hipster parties and the like.

Peace.

Review by Golden Lady. Check out her blog here.