I have never really clicked with purely instrumental music, from classical to pop, it usually needs words for me to really be able to engage with it.  Oddly enough, this is true even when the words are either indecipherable or, sometimes, too abstract for me to really understand, as is fairly often the case.  I love Bob Dylan even when I have no fucking idea what he’s going on about, which is a lot.

When I see it live, however, I suppose I at least start to understand how I should listen to instrumental music, even if I am not always able to actually learn this lesson in practise.  I saw RM Hubbert for the first time at Haarfest this year (see video here), and was absolutely mesmerised by his peformance.  His chat was pure Scottish – self-deprecating, witty, sometimes a little intense, but entirely charming nevertheless – and his music was gorgeous.

His entire album is embedded for streaming at the bottom of the page and can be listened to on his Bandcamp page here, but I have still found myself not quite as enamoured by the recorded versions despite knowing I enjoy his music.

The Phantom Band may not be an instrumental band, but I find myself with a similar relationship to their stuff.  I saw them live at Homegame a couple of years ago and loved it.  Their debut album was voted album of the year by the readers of Clash Magazine – a hugely impressive a achievement for a pretty low-profile band on a small Scottish indie label – and for all I loved bits and pieces, I never really fell for the whole record.

Their new one is out on Chemikal Underground pretty soon, and after listening to my promo copy again and again, a similar relationship seems to be emerging.  I am just not that into the album, but listening to the rhythms and the chanted vocals, I can easily imagine absolutely loving the material live.

The Phantom Band – Walls

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There’s something hypnotic about the thump of the drums and the repetitive layers of guitar when they play, and for some reason I have yet to really experience that impact with the recordings.  Maybe it’s similar to the relationship I have with instrumental music: the experience of intense attention, just letting it all wash over you with no other distractions, is just how I should experience the band.

My attention at a gig is (or should be) one hundred percent, whereas at home, even when explicitly making time to listen to music, it rarely is.  I’ve clicked with music live on a few occasions, when the recorded version hasn’t quite grabbed me, and it’s often to do with that immersive feeling of giving myself over completely to experiencing the music.  I wasn’t even that taken with Sam Amidon the first few times I heard All Is Well, but his performance at the Bowery a couple of years ago changed all that in an instant.

Maybe, of course, I shouldn’t worry about it.  Some bands are rubbish live and I’d rather just hear the album, so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that certain kinds of music don’t quite do it for me on record, whereas live I absolutely love the stuff.