Song, by Toad

The Parish Music box, you might remember, recently signed to Universal subsidiary NoCarbon Records.  I am told that this was in no small part down to my own blogging efforts, which is awfully nice, given the amount of time and effort one tends to put into these internetty things.  Well they were playing a benefit gig in Paisley which, although not all that close to Edinburgh, is bloody well close enough, so we thought we’d meet up for a few beverages to celebrate.  And, erm, celebrate we did.

I was in Glasgow anyway because of going to see the Arcade Fire the previous night, so I met up with an old pal (and regular reader – Hi Andy!) for a couple of beers before heading out to see the lads perform live for the first time.  As can be the nature of benefit gigs, they were perhaps not performing to quite the demographic that their new marketing manager might envisage, but it was a bloody good laugh and I had a blast.

I only know a few of their songs, so I was looking forward to hearing something more resembling a repertoire, and I wasn’t disappointed.  They play a laid back lounge Americana in the Hawley/Cousteau/Cherry Ghost vein and the music basically just fits.  It works.  It sounds complete and right: easy going but ebbing and flowing confidently in an old-fashioned kind of way.  Lloyd, the guitarist, was new but honestly you’d never have known in a million years.

It was an ace gig, and everyone was buzzing so there were several jars consumed after the show.  Sufficiently many that the conversation descended to the level of reminiscing about Saxondale and Norwich City’s all-conquering early-90s UEFA cup team.  I think that early buzz has got to be about as good a moment as exists in the music industry.  Everyone’s excited, it’s all new – just fucking brilliant.  So good luck to the lads and cheers for a great gig and a stinking hangover.

The Paris Music Box – Sand Apple
The Paris Music Box – Heavy Drinkers

The Parish Music Box on MySpace