Song, by Toad

Archive for November, 2010

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Meursault Tour Review

[I often think I don't really talk enough about how much I like Meursault. It's tricky on these pages, because everyone knows my relationship with the band, particularly as the first real 'signing', as it were, to Song, by Toad Records.  Also, as they are doing pretty well for themselves without my help, I sometimes just leave them to get on with it by themselves.

To help address this particular omission Cogstar, one of my most enduring readers, has written this review from seeing the lads twice on their recent UK tour.  Thanks old chap!]

Meursault vs Meersalt

Before I turn into ‘Fanboy’ it’s only fair I declare my self interest. I’m a punter, pure and simple with no side projects and my only long term investment has been time and liver damage. The good thing about music unlike football is you can change your team at any time, I learned this lesson particularly early in life, having declared ‘Signing Off’ to be the best album ever written, definitely no long term investment there. Since then I’ve pretty much decided to live in the Northern Counties lower division of the music world, enjoying the outputs of everyone from Jesse Garon to God is an Astronaut.

Listening to recorded music is fine, but I much prefer to be at the front of a live gig, not knowing which way the nights going to go. For at least 25 years I must have averaged a gig a week and now having two teenage girls, one ‘pop punk’ and one ‘pop and folk’ I’m up to about 200 gigs a year if you include festivals. I’ve seen Girls Aloud four times ffs. A nod to the wise – it’s absolutely essential to be at the front for this type of gig.

Having read in many places the difficulties of earning a crust in the industry, I’m very pleased to have made the decision to live exclusively in Punterland. There have been weak moments where I’ve nearly jumped the fence, but fear of losing my enthusiasm by being on the inside has saved me.

And with scene setting complete, the point of this contribution

I’ve never seen a band play essentially the same set list on two different nights of a tour which was so fantastic and yet so completely different

I saw Meursault live for the first time at Glastonbury this year and despite ‘being absolutely fried’ after a nightmare journey, they were one of the few bands I saw over the weekend where everyone played at full tilt.

With typical over enthusiasm I’d convinced three pals that The Royal Park Cellars in Leeds was the only place to be on a wet Thursday night. For those that don’t know it, it’s an old local’s pub which now resides in the dead centre of student town central. I remembered it from the 80’s when Sunday lunch was £3.00, it’s gone up to £4.25 now. It was a bit of a dive in the old days and I couldn’t wait to see the state of the cellar. Just as advertised it was a cellar, painted black with customary silver pipe work and comfortably large enough to swing two cats but probably not safely.

There were plenty of seats and tables about and as everyone else was seated we took a pew 10 minutes before kick off. Quite why one individual decided it was appropriate to stand at the front, alone and two yards in front of everyone else I’m not sure, as my pal said, ‘he’d make a better door than a window’. From the first solo acoustic tune it was clear that the sound quality in the dodgy cellar was exceptional. Meursault played as a three piece with two lead guitarists and a drummer and an electric box of tricks. It was a unique combination.

Every song was tuneful, clear, well sang and to suit the environment had a laid back feel. My older non muso pal enthused about the fact you could here all the instruments and all the words, I should have brought my dad along. The set lasted about 40 minutes with one new tune and an amps off, ‘One Day This’ll All Be Fields’ to finish. We would have all been happy with another 40 minutes.

And so to the Saki Bar in Manchester 5 days later, this time I’m with a proper muso pal who’s been brought up on Mogwai, My Bloody Valentine and a diet of Brixton Fridge techno. He’d never heard Meursault, but trusted my taste, I think he was sold on the box of tricks and stories of effects pedals. The Saki bar is a bit ‘rum’ as my Gran would say and Tuesday night is ‘Underachievers Night’ quite how Meursault had been switched to a full on indie bar on indie night when Broken Records were playing round the corner I’m not sure.

At about 11.20pm (on a school night), the band eventually took to the floor and after a 10 minute set up were ready to play. Crank Resolutions kicked in…. all except for the vocal microphone, the slightest eye contact between band members and it was clear that nothing was getting in the way tonight. For half the song Neil half sang half yelled the words, thankfully the soundman salvaged things with a double mic switch. It seemed like a Ramones style 2 second pause before going straight into the new tune, which sounded absolutely nothing like it had at the previous gig. Meursault had turned punk and the urgency of the hammered snare drove the tune along at a frightening pace. It was utterly brilliant, even the old blokes (me included) had started shuffle dancing and head banging….really.

I only recall one acoustic song in the main set tonight and even this was forced out with intent as Neils’ voice felt the strain from earlier. Back to electrics, the guitars clashed perfectly and the clamorous no bass rhythm section worked on every tune. I’ve no idea whether William Henry Miller was played acoustic or electric but it felt hard.

Respite came as Fields was sung amongst and with the audience, most of whom were sporting a stupid grin on their face. And just when the people were on the pitch it was back for another go at Crank Resolutions ‘make it really loud please soundman’ was the phrase. Best tune I’ve seen live in ages.

If you get a chance to see the stripped back punk threesome on this tour, then take it.

But as my feedback loving friend pointed out ‘bloody hell wait till they do that with the full band’.

Best £3 I’ve ever spent ….thanks

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Toadcast #148 – The Slobcast

It’s not going to surprise anyone at all that I am being an absolute slob today, is it?  Mrs. Toad got back from Australia around lunchtime, and after a few hours of pottering about she crashed out with jetlag, so I snuck off to record the podcast.  I am sure that soon enough she will wake and start demanding attention and general servitude soon enough, so I better get this over with quickly.

After that I am going straight back to bed to watch stupid films while my sweetheart dozes by my side, awaking occasionally to tell me off for not being comfortable enough, or to send me to fetch her things, or to just swear at me for taking all the covers or some other such sweet nothings of the kind she is wont to come out with from time to time.

Direct download: Toadcast #148 – The Slobcast

01. Elvis Perkins in Dearland – Shampoo (00.21)
02. Elvis Costello – Couldn’t Call it Unexpected No.4 (06.24)
03. Billie Holiday – Good Morning Heartache (13.17)
04. Smog – In the Pines (16.22)
05. My Tiny Robots – Ballad of the Mapmaker’s Daughter (23.17)
06. Randolph’s Leap – Going Home (32.19)
07. The Japanese War Effort – Face Like a Lemon (Ivor Cutler cover, live on Fresh Air Radio) (36.50)
08. Grass House – Lazy Bones (43.01)
09. Bob Dylan – I’ll Keep it With Mine (49.23)
10. Bettye Swann – Don’t Look Back (54.47)

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Song, by Toad Christmas Party

Well well well, this should be fun.  And messy.  And fun.  But probably mostly messy, I should imagine.

I’ve booked out both floors of the Queen Charlotte Rooms down in Leith, so we are going to have two stages.  The downstairs room will be with a full PA, with Jesus H. Foxx, Inspector Tapehead and Meursault playing.  And the upstairs room will be a bit more acoustic, with Yusuf Azak, Rob St. John and The Savings and Loan.  It won’t be entirely acoustic, but the room itself has no sound-proofing so we’ll have to keep things relatively quiet so we don’t get the Queen Charlotte Rooms in trouble.

Tickets are going to be limited to about 170 or so, so I guess it’s probably wise to buy them up in advance.  There will be DJs too – probably myself for a bit, and I would imagine Michael H. Foxx, but if anyone’s specifically up for it then feel free to let me know and I am sure you can have a turn on the decks.  Or CDs.  Or iPods. Or whatever else you fancy I suppose.

And erm, that’s about it, really.  Good bands, getting pished, and erm, I’d recommend taking Friday off work because it’s eagleowl’s party the next day and then Kid Canaveral’s after that.  Sunday may need to be entirely slept through I imagine!

Tickets can be bought in advance from here.

And for those of you who don’t visit this site all that often, here are some songs from the bands who will be playing:

Meursault – Nothing Broke

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Inspector Tapehead – Pherenzik Tear

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Jesus H. Foxx – I’m Half the Man You Were

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The Savings and Loan – Pale Water

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Yusuf Azak – Eastern Sun

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Droney Mitchell – An Empty House

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Friday Fears Festive Feasting

One of the reasons we are finding it near-fucking impossible to relocate Yusuf Azak’s album launch is because we are staggering into the realm of the Christmas party.  The part of the calendar between, well, pretty much now and the end of the year is almost entirely filled with Christmas parties either of the dull kind (i.e.: work) or the fun kind (i.e.: music).

So, I am looking at my calendar, and having fairly successfully laid off the feasting and carousing since we returned from China, all I see ahead of me is week upon week filled with heroic levels of gorging on booze and scran.

It’s a bit like how those ladies in the old cowboy films must have felt when tied to a railway track, unable to move, with a train thundering towards them at a frightening pace.  Except with more liver damage and less instant evisceration of course.  Nevertheless.  Scary.

My favourite weekend of the Christmas period is going to be the 16th-18th December, when we have the Song, by Toad Christmas Party, the eagleowl Stars in Their Eyes party and then Kid Canaveral’s Christmas Baubles, one after the other.  I think I am going to go to all of them, and I think I am going to get absolutely and utterly fucked at all three.  Fuck half-measures, let’s face this fucker head-on, eh!

And this brings us back to de-lurking hour here on Song, by Toad.  Every Friday is de-lurking amnesty, where you interrupt the steady flow of effluvium from the regular commenters to introduce yourself to everyone and say hello.  Fill in your five, and then let the total bollocks flow!

1. Favourite cold weather track.
2. Event which looms the most unpleasantly in your annual calendar.
3. Event for which you have to plan the furthest in advance.
4. Last real treat you gave yourself.
5. What are you looking forward to this weekend?

These five songs are from when I had just moved up to Edinburgh in 2005 and was playing for an awful amateur league football who were so awful to play for that I eneded up hating football the entire time I played for them.  Amateur league football in Scotland is the very epitome of joyless ‘fun’.

Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti – Every Night I Die at Miyagis

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The Cloud Room – Hey Now Now

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Pink Mountaintops – Plastic Man You’re the Devil

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Kris Kristofferson – This Old Road

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Holly Golightly – Tell Me Now so I Know

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Song, by Toad on Fresh Air – 11th November 2010

Whee, back on the radio.  And for some reason tonight’s playlist is going to consist of lots of pretty well-established artists.  There is no reason for this at all, it just worked out that way when I was selecting the playlist.

Nevertheless, I find myself focussing so much on new music that the old stuff kinda gets neglected these days.  I have actually stopped listening to my digital music collection for pleasure, and now only listen to vinyl when I am actually listening for the pure enjoyment of it.  This isn’t an ideological stance against digital music, more a logistical one.  The drive with all my music on is now upstairs, and I haven’t been arsed to set up a link to the stereo yet.

Live from 8pm (UK time) – listen here.

As per usual I will update the playlist live below as I go along, so feel free to chip in with any suggestions and comments and assorted smart-arsed remarks you might have.

1. Sleepy Horses – Lubbock Love Song
2. Paul Simon – Graceland
3. Casiotone for the Painfully Alone – Optimist vs the Silent Alarm
4. Casiotone for the Painfully Alone – Graceland
5. Paul Simon – Adios Hermanos
6. The Scottish Enlightenment – Necromancer
7. Jesus H. Foxx – Elegy for the Good Times
8. Droney Mitchell – An Empty House (Droney may actually be Rob St. John.  Just perhaps.)
9. The Savings and Loan – Pale Water
10. Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds – Fifteen Feet of Pure White Snow
11. White Antelope – Silver Dagger
12. Saint Etienne – Like a Motorway
13. The Maladies of Bellfontaine – Black Biro

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Two Trips and Falls Videos

Well, two and a half, really.  We recently concluded negotiations with Montreal’s Trips and Falls to secure the release of their second album on Song, by Toad Records.  And by negotiations I mean that there was a conversation on Skype, I said ‘hey I love the second album, can we release it?’ and they said ‘sure, whatever’, or something else equally arcane and hard-nosed.

Record labels are never as professional as people seem to think they are – usually just a couple of jackasses with more enthusiasm than money, soon to be deprived of both by the cold, hard indifference of a market obsessed with the X-Factor and a million shitty remixes of bands with awful fucking haircuts.

Anyhow, the one thing we really have going for us is the support of a really strong local community, and this means an awful lot, but also makes it a little tricky to introduce bands from outwith our immediate neighbourhood.  Trips and Falls’ debut album He Was Such a Quiet Boy would have been there or thereabouts as my favourite album of the year last year, only because they’d agreed to release it on Song, by Toad Records I didn’t think I could put the original self-release version at the top of my 2009 list.  The video at the top of the page (the half a video, because it’s so short) is something incredibly cool that Ian, their drummer, did for the first album, based on the artwork which was done by Chris Bryant, of Brothers Grimm and (formerly) Meursault fame.

Trips and Falls – Breaking Up With My Mormon Missionaries

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By the time 2010 list time comes around I will have decided I have to exclude Toad Records releases from these lists (well, would you like to tell your kids which one you love the best) so they will now never have a top album of the year on this site, which is fucking shite, because their records are superb.  Weird, I’ll admit, but fucking superb.  The new one has been sitting frustratingly in my music library all year, and the two wee home videos at the bottom of the post are nice teasers, but still only teasers.

Trips and Falls – That’s What She Said (Unmastered)

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It might be one of our first releases in 2011 I think, and due to the fact that people won’t be able to see them live, and won’t be able to pick up my enthusiasm as easily, it might be one of our most under-appreciated ones.  But I guarantee you one thing: it will be one of my favourites, for absolute certain.

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Music For Cold Weather

I genuinely love the cold.  Maybe my father’s Dutch-Canadian heritage has something to do with it, maybe my Austrian upbringing, maybe because my parents didn’t beat me as hard as they should have as a child, but if there’s a part of me which is perpetually disappointed by living in Britain it’s not the lack of a decent Summer, it’s the lack of a decent Winter.

I want Winter to be well below zero, for there to be snow on the ground for months at a time, for it to sting the tips of my fucking ears when I leave the house, for football to be abandoned for five months, for mulled wine to be served everywhere and roast potatoes and chestnuts to be available.  Given that Scotland is responsible for something as awesome as a hot toddy (see Wikipedia here, although ignore the bit about ‘usually’ including alcohol, they all have alcohol, this is Scotland) you know that it used to be proper cold here at some point.

Nevertheless, despite the generally accepted inadequacy of the British Winter (places in the very North of Scotland excused, I hear it’s fucking freezing there) and despite the fact that last year got kinda chilly, prompting Benni Hemm Hemm to quip in Glasgow that he loved the weather because we seemed to think that a couple of degrees below zero was actually cold, I am always left a little disappointed by the tepid drizzle which passes for Winter in these parts.

Just as hot weather induces a certain mindset in the people who live in it, so cold weather brings on a certain mentality.  Look at Finland, Russia, Norway, Sweden, Britain, Denmark, Germany and Canada and that seems to be alcoholism and a tendency towards either extreme liberalism or extreme violence, but for me it is something slightly different – probably the emotions from which the Christians parasitically appropriated Christmas.

As soon as things get really fucking freezing outside, the home becomes a massively important place.  Sanctuaries of warmth and light take on a very different quality, which people from warm climates cannot possibly understand.  Wherever you’re coming from, by the time you get in the house, your fingers and thumbs aren’t really working properly, you’re wrapped in ludicrously excessive layers of clothing, and it’s painfully obvious that without all this shite – the clothes, the central heating, the blankets, the warmth – you will die, really really quickly.

So being indoors on a dark evening in Winter, when you’re cosy and it’s fucking Baltic outside (one of Scotland’s best ever expressions – fuckin’ Baltic by the way!) becomes an intense treat. And of course people like me, and I assume you, listen to music. And for all it’s fun to dally with Summer fun and so on, there is no greater treat than spending a dark, cold evening inside the house with music.

And it’s a different kind of music too; I think something of the sanctuary of being indoors in the freezing cold permeates into what you choose to play.  As it gets colder and darker outside, I seem to progressively lose interest in new stuff and regress to my favourite music.  This, in turn, reinforces the idea of Winter time as being when you go back to your family, back to what really makes you who you are, and simply wait things out for the more carefree and laissez-faire days of Summer.

In fact, it’s a genuine mark that music will be with you forever, when you want to play it at eight at night on the eighteenth of December.  This year’s graduates, I think, are probably Timber Timbre.  Micah P. Hinson is there, and I think The National’s new album is probably there or thereabouts too.  But in general I prefer to listen to music I’ve been listening to for years, probably much the same as we all like to watch Indiana Jones for the four hundredth time on Boxing Day every year.

So I know Scotland doesn’t really have real Winters – well, most certainly not in Edinburgh, that’s for fucking certain – but there’s a reason I really welcome the first really bitey nip on my ears when I go outside, the first frost, the first frozen puddle to crunch underfoot.  It means it’s time to close up shop and spend time cosy in your home, snuggle up with someone on the couch, read books, play records you know you love, cook rich, thick food, and just enjoy being inside for a change.  Coming inside from the freezing cold outdoors – no feeling like it!

Timber Timbre – No Bold Villain

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Micah P. Hinson & the Gospel of Progress – Beneath the Rose

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Leonard Cohen – Master Song

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Smog – Drinking at the Dam

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Grass House – Lazy Bones

In general I don’t like to just throw things up onto the internet straight from a PR email, but this is a new video, and a really nice one, by a band I know nothing about at all called Grass House.  So I suppose it’s about time to put that right, eh?

If you listen to one of their earlier songs, there’s something of the urbane British barfly about them, albeit in a stompy, harsh sort of a way, but Lazy Bones is rather different.  Where early stuff seemed to be aiming more towards Nick Cave and Tom Waits, I hear a little more of the likes of (The Real) Tuesday Weld in this new track.  And the video is ace.

Something about the newfound smoothness appeals to me more than the earlier stuff, which seemed a little like lush, polished songs trapped in a slightly rougher incarnation than that in which they might belong.  With Lazy Bones, on the other hand, the richer, more treacley delivery and arrangements seem to match the actual song itself a lot better, although that may be my incorrect impression of a band formed on the basis of hearing no more than four songs.

I need to know more, in other words, and I should start, I suppose, at their record label, which is called Holiday Recordings!

Snowcones by Grass House

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The Driftwood Singers – Look!

I remember the Wave Pictures saying to me that one of the first things bands tend to do is go into a studio, and that it isn’t actually always the right decision for them.  The Wave Pictures recorded their first demos in a studio, found it just wasn’t working, and promptly borrowed a four-track from a friend and just got on with recording themselves on that instead.  In the case of the Driftwood Singers, much the same thing appears to have happened, with the initial studio recordings abandoned in favour of a tape player.

The results initially had me thinking this was all a bit contrived.  That may seem a little silly, given how many bands are embracing lo-fi recording methods these days, not least *cough cough* bands on my own label, but when the actual source material is also so closely linked to the old fashioned sound which is being recreated, it can feel a bit more like an historical exercise than an actual band.  The fact that they mix a lot of old folk staples in with their own material also adds to that impression.

Nevertheless, that is a pretty bloody harsh evaluation of this EP, and for all I might understanding people having no more reaction than that, I also think it’s wrong.  If Jack White can buy only valve amps because he loves the warmth of the sound, then these fuckers can record on a tape player, dammit.  Besides, Springsteen’s Born in the USA has some toe-curlingly nasty eighties production on it, but I still love it, because I love the songs.  And in this case, even though the recording method has me raising an eyebrow just a little, the songs are fantastic and the way they are recorded suits them perfectly.

I confess I don’t know enough about old American folk songs to know the originals from the covers on this particular record, but that doesn’t really matter, as the blend is seamless.  There are pretty much no biographical details of the band on either their MySpace or Bandcamp pages, so I am left to say that the male and female vocals mesh perfectly, with the male voice a more consistent, reliable presence, while the female vocals dance around with a little more flair and flourish.  The flat strum of the autoharp gives a sort of atonal quality to the songs, which only serves to highlight the vocal interplay.

Apparently the EP should be out today, but whilst you can listen to the whole thing from their Bandcamp page, there doesn’t seem to be a purchase link as yet.  Wait though, because it is definitely worth it.

The Driftwood Singers – On My Merry Way

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MySpace | More mp3s | Bandcamp

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Live in Edinburgh This Week – 8th November 2010

After a weekend of alcoholic liver-punching with the awful cunts from Gerry Loves Records I find myself back in Edinburgh with Mrs. Toad off in Australia and nothing between me and an entire week spent on the internet in my pants with a jar of pickled onions and a jumbo packet of pork scratchings.

In fact, that sounds like a pretty good plan, all told.  Balls to dignity, self-respect and hygiene.

Wednesday 10th November 2010: Casiotone for the Painfully Alone & My Tiny Robots at Sneaky Pete’s.

If ever a band’s music were better described in their band name than anything any reviewer could write it is Casiotone. And if you don’t come along on Wednesday you will never see them again, ever.

Casiotone for the Painfully Alone – Natural Light

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Thursday 11th November 2010: My Tiny Robots, Donna Maciocia & Enfant Bastard at the Caves.

This gig was very nearly a casualty of the collapse of the Settlement, but quickly found a home at the Caves, fortunately.  My Tiny Robots played smart acoustic pop songs the last time I saw them.  That was some time ago though, and I am looking forward to giving their new EP (for which this is the launch night) a good listen this week.

My Tiny Robots – Ghosts

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Friday 12th November 2010: The Scottish Enlightenment, Jesus H. Foxx & Trapped Mice at the Wee Red Bar.

The Scottish Enlightenment aren’t far from being my new band of the year, I think.  And I’ve only seen them once, which is a bit stupid.  St. Thomas is a fantastic piece of melancholy guitar music, and one which always seems to retain a sense of optimism and belief, and I am really looking forward to this gig.

The Scottish Enlightenment – Necromancer

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Friday 12th November 2010: Limbo, with Over the Wall, How to Swim & the Oates Field at the Voodoo Rooms.

Over the Wall also have a new album on the way, although far from the brooding of the Scottish Enlightenment, I imagine theirs will be just a little bit more bouncy and cheerful.  How to Swim may not approach their music with the same instruments, but that sense of manic exuberance is very much still there – perfect for wishing the Limbo lads happy third birthday.

Over the Wall – Shifts

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