Song, by Toad

Archive for August, 2010

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Live in Edinburgh This Week – 30th August 2010

Christ, my liver is suffering quite badly from Festival Burn as it is, and I have barely attended this year’s festival at all.  I am hoping for a few nights spent drinking tea when we go to China, because God knows I can’t handle much more bloody drinking.  Still, this week looks like a relatively kindly one in terms of personal chemical punishment, so the people of Edinburgh have the best part of a week to prepare themselves for the fireworks which mark the end of the Festival.

Christ I need a glass of orange juice.

Monday 30th September 2010: The Low Anthem & Avi Buffalo at the Queen’s Hall.

This appears to be the last of the big shiny Edge Festival gigs for the year, and it’s a good one to go out on.  The Low Anthem, for those who are yet to hear them, can be rousing blues rock or delicate and beautiful alt-country, depending on which side of the bed they get out of that particular morning.

The Low Anthem – Charlie Darwin

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Monday 30th September 2010: Burnt Island, Adrian Crowley, Ryan van Winkle at the Spiegeltent.

This event is actually part of the Edinburgh Book Festival, and explores the links between, in their words, “ideas written, spoken and sung out loud”. Even as an unapologetic philistine this sounds really very interesting indeed to me, and the bands booked to play are all very good indeed, so I would very much recommend popping along if you’re in town.

Burnt Island – Me and All of My Friends are Alright

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Toadcast #137 – The Seendcast

I may only have lived in the Wiltshire village of Seend for about four or five months about ten years ago (seriously, ten?) but the fact that I had no job, nor was able to find one, meant that the music I listened to ended up with an extra resonance.

Apart from looking for jobs I didn’t know how to find, I spent an inordinate amount of time browsing through copies of Uncut magazine, back before it turned to shit, and buying albums based on how well I liked the songs they chose for their covermount CDs.

There are a couple of other songs on this podcast, but I think the memories of Seend (including my goal in a 3-2 victory, having been 2-0 behind at half time) are still surprisingly strong.

Direct download: Toadcast #137 – The Seendcast

01. Meursault – Bulletproof (La Roux/Radiohead Cover) (02.52)
02.The Czars – Lullaby 6000 (09.19)
03. Hamell on Trial – Choochtown (20.30)
04. Lambchop – Bon Soir, Bon Soir (24.10)
05. The Savings and Loan – The Virgin’s Lullaby (31.09)
06. Phillistine’s Jr. – The Bus Stop Song (36.55)
07. Vado in Messico – Sisma (38.50)
08. Billy Bragg – Take Down the Union Jack (47.12)
09. Kevin Tihista’s Red Terror – Sucker (51.46)
10. Cinerama – Health and Efficiency (58.49)

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Friday is Just Plain Frazzled

So, a holiday coming up (an actual one this time – no computer, no work, no nothing) and so many things to get done.  I reeled them off in the van this morning when I was driving Mrs. Toad to work and she asked me if there were actually enough hours in the day to get everything done, and I had to answer in the negative.  Not even if I didn’t actually sleep at all.  So now it’s just a case of choosing what to neglect, which for an obsessive like me is not a comfortable decision to have to make.

So, if anyone has ever wanted to write anything for these pages, this week would be a splendid time to get in touch.  Dylan can be reached at sunday@songbytoad.com – just email a post through as he has kindly offered to generally administer the site in my absence.  It can be anything, from a gig review to a band recommendation, to a rant about something, to just a general ramble about something in your musical past – anything really.

Anyhow, after an enforced absence of several weeks due to holidays, Haarfests and suchlike, it is time to get back to the Wark of a Friday evening.  Mrs. Toad and I haven’t been there for bloody ages, and we are both starting to get twitchy with withdrawal symptoms.

Oh, and of course, the Festival is nearly over, so if you want to take one last chance to catch some things then this is the last week you’ll have the chance.  Lach’s Antihoot finishes this weekend, and they are getting in sort of a greatest hits lineup to mark the finale.  And of course, the Retreat Festival is this weekend at Pilrig St. Paul’s Church in Leith.  If you like music and you don’t go, you are an idiot, it is as simple as that.

So all that remains is for me to ask you to delurkify and chip in your answers to five stupid Friday questions, and then piddle away the rest of your day bickering with people because, let’s face it, you were never really going to do any work on Friday afternoon were you?  Honestly?  Nah, of course not.

1. Chore you will avoid doing this weekend.
2. Biggest treat in store for the weekend.
3. Tune for the afternoon.
4. What should you be doing at the moment instead of fannying about on the internet?
5. Bit of really mindless entertainment you will enjoy most this weekend.

Five bands from the Retreat Festival sampler, which can be downloaded here for free:

Enfant Bastard – Twix Party

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The Wee Rogue – I Cross My Heart

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eagleowl – Eat Hats

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The Douglas Firs – Soporific

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The Leg – Switches

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John Grant – Queen of Denmark

I actually ended up buying John Grant a coke at SXSW this year, a little oddly.  At the last minute he filled in for a cancellation at the Bella Union/4AD showcase, and took the stage in front of a relatively unassuming-looking electric piano in standard SXSW beard and checked shirt.

I was expecting the music which tends to go with that particular uniform – harmonious alt-country, or something thereabouts – and yet suddenly this massive voice emerged, bursting forth from songs which, whilst they fit well with the dreamy, folky Bella Union back catalogue, have just a little bit of Broadway about them.

After that performance, which was really, really good, I suddenly found myself standing next to him at the bar.  I told him that I’d enjoyed the set, and he offered to buy me a beer with one of his artists’ tokens.  It turned out they didn’t work, so I bought the round, including a coke for Mr. Grant.  Not a particularly compelling little anecdote, but there you go.

To suggest slight similarities to a blend of Elton John, the Scissor Sisters and Rufus Wainright sounds painfully automatic when you realise that Grant is in fact gay, and that this fact has troubled him to the point of contemplating suicide by the time he finished this record.  It’s not though, and I promise I made those connections before reading anything about his background.  Equally, scenting a bit of Midlake in the mix was something I noticed before I discovered that Midlake are close personal friends of his, and that they loved his music so much that they were the ones who persuaded him to make the album in the first place, and indeed are the backing band you hear on the record.

That kind of slightly countrified, dreamy broadway pop is rarely my kind of thing, I have to confess, and as such I had kind of stopped paying attention to this record after the first couple of songs and started to concentrate more on whatever else it was I was doing.  Then came the line in Sigourney Weaver about “I feel just like Sigourney Weaver/ when she had to kill those aliens” and I honestly stopped dead.  It was a genuine double-take moment: ‘What the fuck did he just sing?  Noooo, surely not.’

Anyhow, given that my attention had been very definitely grabbed (albeit in a slightly surreal manner) I then began to listen more closely.  Lyrically, this album has a lot of depth and a lot of darkness and a very oddly undecorated way of expressing itself.  JC Hates Faggots is a really jarring yet jolly little song which, when you listen to it, is a truly brutal take on Grant’s own religious upbringing, yet plinks and plonks along in the most unassuming manner.  And this song is far from alone in wielding this kind of utterly unvarnished emotional punch.

I don’t think the music of this record is ever anything I will entirely warm to, I must confess.  It just isn’t my kind of thing.  But I am still going to listen to it again and again, just to hear the lyrics, so surreally shrouded in sugary sweet, swoonsome pop music, it gives the whole album a truly disturbing feel.

John Grant – JC Hates Faggots

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John Grant – Where Dreams Go to Die

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Website | More mp3s | Buy from Bella Union

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MP3s Have Liberated Physical Products, Not Destroyed Them

Whenever the digital revolution gets mentioned in the press, or indeed in conversation, it tends to be closely accompanied by murmurings about declining CD sales and questions about whether or not the rise in digital sales makes up for that shortfall and whether or not anyone will actually need to own music in five years and so on and so forth.

The answers to the above questions are both simply ‘no’.  There is no need to own music anymore and digital sales will probably not make up for the revenue generated by the somewhat false heights of the CD industry.  So what.

What doesn’t get mentioned too often, though, is what an incredible benefit the mp3 has been to the CD in another sense: it has liberated it from the constraints of being a commodity product.  The mp3 is now the commodity, needing to be as cheap and readily available as possible, with price and availability considerably trumping any questions of quality.  High bitrate mp3s and lossless file formats don’t seem to have made any impression on the digital market when they have been provided at a premium price, and I don’t really think people care that much.  An mp3 is merely a commodity, shunted about in large quantities, and exists simply to reach as many people as possible and to generate revenue.  It is important, but very unglamorous work.

That used to be the job of the vinyl record, of course.  Then for a while it was the job of the cassette tape, although to a lesser extent, and by the nineties it was pretty much entirely the job of the CD.  What did that mean for the little shiny silver disc? Well as with any commodity product, it put pressure on price.  It was all about how cheaply you could make them, and in what volumes.  At those numbers any kind of increase in the manufacturing price has a massive knock-on effect on revenue generation, which is by its very nature what the ‘industry’ part of the industry cared about, no criticism implied.

Now, of course, no-one ever needs to buy a CD; it is as obsolete as vinyl and tapes.  There are still plenty of CD players around of course, and it will take a while to fully die out, but basically the CD has had its day as a delivery medium for music, as has any and every physical medium.  And for these various media that is a liberation, not a condemnation.

As we’ve seen recently, there has been a significant rise in vinyl releases and vinyl sales.  In the last year or so we’ve seen all sorts of things released on tape as well.  I wouldn’t be wholly surprised to see something released on DAT tape or something stupid like that in the near future, provided it still comes with a digital download.  I seem to recall someone from Domino boasting recently at a Born to Be Wide seminar that they had recently released something on a tin of beans.

Basically, it is no longer enough for a CD to be a mere delivery mechanism for the songs, because the mp3 does it cheaper, faster, and with more flexibility – better, in other words.   A physical product nowadays has to justify its existence in its own right, because the music contained thereon is not enough anymore, and this challenge has been risen to with some alacrity by the more forward-thinking record labels and self-releasing bands.  No-one needs to buy a CD these days, so if you are going to bother going to the trouble of making them then you have to make them worth owning.  The packaging has to be beautiful.  There has to be something extra.  It must, in itself, be something which is a pleasure to own and to use.

It reminds me a little of the argument about wine bottle sealing technology.  Screw-tops are, I seem to recall, actually better at preserving the wine properly, but they haven’t really made as much headway as they might.  Simply, they cannot compete with the satisfaction of cutting and removing the foil, and then uncorking a bottle of wine.  It’s a tactile pleasure, and I feel the same about music.

Vinyl may not reproduce music as faithfully as a CD or a high quality digital file, but there is a ritual to putting a record on the record player which mp3s and playlists can never match.  When it comes to opening a CD package to play an album the same has to be true.  Click on the picture above and have a look at the gorgeous packaging of the Now Owl album.  Apart from being an excellent piece of music (buy it here), that album is a pleasure to own, and a pleasure simply to open up and play.

Now, I think the CD has a few years left where people will buy it simply as a commodity – because that’s what they can play in their cars or their living rooms, perhaps.  In general the technology isn’t quite obsolete just yet.  But we are getting ever closer to the point where a physical medium for music is more of a hindrance than a help, and soon it will not be enough to simply put together some graphics and duplicate the music.

And in a way that will be a blessing, because freed from the rather brutal economics of the commodity product, where all is dependent on keeping costs down, you are now selling a luxury item, and the economics of that are rather different.  All of a sudden it makes sense to spend a little more on paper; to think of new ways to package your music; to release on tape, on CD on vinyl, on wax cylinder, on whatever you want; to sit there and hand-fold a few hundred copies and sell them for a little more; to hand-stitch your vinyl sleeves; to superglue actual sequins to your album cover…

When no-one has to buy your product anymore, the people who do buy are the ones who really want to, and they are great people to be working with as they will spend a little more money, and they will appreciate and reward that extra effort.  The whole transaction becomes a little bit more rewarding for everyone, which in my eyes is a very good thing indeed.

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Arcade Fire – The Suburbs

You know, this sounds awfully like the Arcade Fire.  Given my recent smart-arsed remarks about journalists finding a way to compare pretty much all music (especially music with instruments in it) to the Arcade Fire, you might think that I am just being facetious with that particular statement, but I am not.  Not entirely, anyway.

What I mean by that comment is that it sounds exactly how you would expect the new Arcade Fire album to sound, there are no surprises, and that this is a bad thing.  Basically, they have got the sound dead right, but much of the other stuff seems to have been a little neglected.

I am not sure there is really an album’s worth of songs here, frankly.  There are certainly a few crackers, but this is a big, sprawling epic of a record which has the feel of disinterest and laziness about it.  Modern Man is a classic example: it’s mid-paced, delivered without any real urgency and consequently ends up sounding like a half-decent idea which hasn’t had anything like the right amount of time devoted to it.  It’s as if, having written a bunch of songs, some of which were just kinda recorded because, hell, why not, we’re in the studio, they all sat down to sequence the record and had conversations like:

‘Oh, how about this one?’
‘Sure, let’s put it in.’
‘Right, where abouts then?’
‘Oh, I dunno, kinda in the middle I guess.’
‘Track seven or something?’
‘Sure whatever.’
‘Hmm’kay, how about this one.’
‘Whatevs dude.  Anyone got any more chips?’

I assume the above imaginary conversation is borderline slanderous, and that the band sweated blood over this every bit as much as Funeral, or at least I would hope so.  In fact I would say that I assume almost every accusation of laziness or indifference any journalist ever makes is probably bollocks, but I can’t deny the fact that this album generates that impression, irrespective of its veracity.

It also feels like they haven’t pushed themselves, for some reason.  The rhythms are all pretty predictable, they haven’t been anything like ruthless enough with the songs they’ve included, and it just feels like an album where no-one has had the guts to say ‘no’ as often as it needed to be said, maybe because of the stature of the band and maybe because the relationships between the band members have become too settled and there’s not enough friction there.

Which is not to say that there aren’t some great songs here.  City With No Children in particular stands out, for me personally.  And I love The Sprawl, particularly part two.  But in general I think this album could have done with being put through the wringer of being a debut album – lean as hell and with the ideas condensed down as aggressively possible.  There might be a decent thirty-five minute album in here, but sixty-four minutes?  No, I don’t personally think so, not even all that close.

Arcade Fire – City With No Children

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Arcade Fire – The Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)

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Website | More mp3s | Buy from Amazon

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We Can’t Enjoy Ourselves

We Can’t Enjoy Ourselves like their classic indie, that’s for sure.  This is a good thing, of course, because so do I.  Their particular fascination seems to run somewhat after C86.  It’s smoother, less angular and awkward, maintaining a jaunty, easy-going rhythm and steering clear of pretty much all bite. That might be the music’s biggest weakness actually, in that I think it could really do with a bit of needle – some bite, some meanness or a bit of snarl to it somewhere.

That criticism aside, I am really enjoying this.  You’ll know what you’re getting within moments of pressing play, and as I have said countless times, when there are few musical twists, you are left with one simple obligation. You have to be able to write engaging, catchy melodies.  And this, they can certainly do.  It’s not exactly in your face, hum along, bouncy pop music, but every song gets the head nodding and the feet tapping.

At their jauntier moments they sound a little like the Housemartins being fronted by Alec Ounsworth.  I know they hardly invented the name, but the name Liza and the whoah-woh-oh on the final track Liza (They Don’t Call This Dancing) remind rather strongly of The Decemberists for some reason.  It sounds very Colin Meloy for some reason, and I guess his vocal delivery has a lot in common with Ounsworth in some ways.  I still like that kind of nasal, disinterested vocal though, and the slow drift from the more mournful, lazy pace of Back of My Bible to a more urgent jangle ensures a good emotional variation across the album.

They warn in their own press material to not to expect too much from their music, and I don’t know if they are being entirely sincere, but it is a good approach.  This is straightforward stuff, won’t surprise you in any ways that I can really think of, and yet remains a really, really good listen and one which has been kicking around my heard for weeks since I first pressed play.

We Can’t Enjoy Ourselves – Put Your Blue Dress On

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We Can’t Enjoy Ourselves – Liza (They Don’t Call This Dancing)

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Haarfest 2010 Video Diary – Day 5

Due to a hectic Saturday driving from Anstruther to Edinburgh to Glasgow and then back to Edinburgh and out again to Anstruther this is the last of the Haarfest video diaries.

I woke up with a proper fucking head on me, and went to sleep plastered at four or something after being ambushed by late night at the Smugglers on the way home.

Due to collecting Mrs. Toad from the station we ended up missing most of Meursault, although we did get there in time for a gorgeous version of Martin Kippenberger, helped greatly by Malcolm from eagleowl.  The Oates Field were good, and Withered Hand (new songs – NEW SONGS!) and FOUND (ditto!) were absolutely immense. And that beer they were serving all weekend, well…!

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The Sound of the Ladies – We Went to the Bottom of the Ocean

Whenever anyone sings vaguely in the style of an old-fashioned crooner these days they tend to get compared to Richard Hawley.  I suppose that’s because there just aren’t that many people doing that kind of stuff, so I guess the comparisons aren’t quite that easy to come by.  Hawley has a certain lushness in common with the likes of Cherry Ghost, which is notably absent here.  Consequently, apart from perhaps implying a certain commonality of influences, I am not sure that any of these comparisons really apply here, despite the fact that they do spring to mind quite quickly.

The subject matter, turn of phrase and slightly harsh edge to some of the lyrics also move this away from the likes of Cousteau and Hawley and so on, and perhaps suggest more of a garage-born relative of The Real Tuesday Weld.

It’s possible that the necessarily DIY recording methods give this much more of an edge than most things you’d end up comparing it to, but whilst the guitar sound may be a little harsh at times, I still think it sounds really nice. In any case, the breadth of expression serves to nicely sand the edges off any roughness in the arrangements, recording and also the vocal, which perhaps lacks the honeyed warmth of a lot of people who are drawn to singing in this style.

There are some absolute fucking corkers on this album.  In general I tend to be drawn towards the slower tunes, although the title track is about as good as it gets here and is certainly no shrinking violet.  There are times, such as the odd moment in the middle of Department of Homeland Security, Up! Went My Dreams and Every Single One when I think a bit more variety of texture could be helpful, but just as I start to think that the gorgeous Bank Burns Down arrives and everything is duly forgiven.  I’ve been enjoying this record a lot recently, and while it may not be entirely consistent, when it’s good it is very, very good and, unusually, seems to get stronger as it goes along.

One look at Martin Austwick’s website shows you that he is a gentleman dedicated to all things DIY, doing podcasts, making videos and all sorts of other things.  So, as well as the usual digital downloads and so on there still appear to be copies of a really gorgeous-looking limited edition, hand-printed CD available from the band’s Bandcamp page.

In a way this remind me of why the digital revolution has been so good: it has made the mp3 the commodity medium of delivery, and hence liberated the CD to become something more special and genuinely worth owning, something which would not have been financially viable when you had to make hundreds and thousands of the bloody things.

The Sound of the Ladies – We Went to the Bottom of the Ocean

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The Sound of the Ladies – Bank Burns Down

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Bandcamp | Buy direct from the band

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Live in Edinburgh This Week – 23rd August 2010

Firstly, the flurry of posts yesterday, from my rather tardy podcast to radio show post, meant that my brother’s Sunday Supplement – a rant about classical music – was buried rather too fast, so please do go back and check it out if you have a little time to waste this afternoon.

Secondly, the Edge Festival goes bloody nuts this week, and if I listed all the gigs then I’d be here all day, and there really is no need for that, so you can have it in paragraph form instead: on Monday 23rd we have Field Music at Sneaky Pete’s and Bear in Heaven at Electric Circus (late).  Tuesday sees The Phantom Band at the Electric Circus, Wednesday Eels at the Picturehouse and Thursday Mark Lanegan at the Liquid Room (who have finally got a website worthy of the name).  Friday is quiet, and then on the weekend we have Harlem at Sneaky Pete’s on Saturday and Modest Mouse at the Picturehouse on Sunday.  All these things you can Google yourselves if you are interested, and there is more info on the Edge site, here.

When it comes to more homegrown things, however, there is still plenty on this week, a good deal at the reassuringly active Bristo Hall – a really nice space which doesn’t get used as often as it might.

Monday 23rd August 2010: Pet, The Leg, The Pineapple Chunks, Sara & the Snakes at the Bristo Hall.

This might well be a late one (11pm-3am) so check it out before you go or you’ll be totally fucking wasted by the time the first band comes on.  I haven’t heard much from the Chunks for a while, as I believe they’ve been recording, so it would be rather cool if there were some new material here to be enjoyed.  There’s quite some distance covered from Sara & the Snakes’ swampy, bluesy garage stuff, the Chunks’ ramshackle whateverthefuckitistheyplay, and the Leg, who are so good they makes themselves sick down themselves (or so I hear anyway, because I have yet to see them live, for shame).

The Pineapple Chunks – Art Storage

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Tuesday 24th August 2010: White Heath, French Wives, Fiction Faction (Formerly Casino Brag,) Sebastian Dangerfield, Washington Irving, and Foxgang at the Bristo Hall.

This is a big lineup selected by Foxgang for their Festival Special.  Given the reluctance of local promoters to do anything at all during the festival (and I have every sympathy – I do the same) it is good to see these guys putting on their own showcase.  Highlights for me would be the indie-pop of Sebastian Dangerfield, and Glaswegian indie pair Washington Irving and French Wives, from Instinctive Raccoon.

Sebastian Dangerfield – The Flood (Pt.1)

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Saturday 28th August 2010: Broken Records and Sparrow & the Workshop at the Liquid Room.

These are two of the original Song, by Toad bands, in a certain sense.  Both now have labels and albums and careers, dammit, and it’s weird.  With debut albums fairly well in the rearview mirror I would imagine that there will be a fair amount of new material on show here, although I know Broken Records don’t want to ruin the surprise for when their second album comes out later in the year.  Their new stuff sounds a lot more layered and guitary and a lot less folky than their earliest material, and I am deeply curious about the new record.

Broken Records – A Leaving Song

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Saturday 28th/Sunday 29th August 2010: Retreat Festival at Pilrig St. Paul’s church.

A free download sampler featuring a large number of the bands playing can be downloaded from here, if you’d like a bit of a preview.  Other than that, take it from me, this is going to be the highlight of the Edinburgh gig calendar, no exceptions – full details here, and I reckon you should probably buy tickets in advance (weekendSaturdaySunday) too as I doubt there will be too many left on the door.

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