Johnny Lynch very kindly suggested that I put together the bill for an all day hangover-buster/refueller the day after the Fence Collective’s Hott Loggz! Festival (see, Hott Toadzz – get it? get it?).

So, I have compiled a collection of the very finest Song, by Toad Records bands, as well as a couple of Toad Pals, and Johnny has arranged for us to use the Hew Scott hall from 2pm to 10pm, to allow those who have to be at work on the Monday to get back to their various homes.

There will be a bar in the room, and bangers and mash available upstairs at the AIA Hall, and a better way to spend a Sunday wasting time and talking pish I cannot imagine.

Tickets will be a fiver, and will be available on the door.

I know I have gone on about this quite enough, but this wee movie fair brought a tear to my eye, so it did.  It may have been fairly carelessly flung together – or so its creator rather modestly insists – but there is something quite fantastic about this little gem.  It’s so brilliantly evocative: the slow motion, the lens flare on so many shots… just perfect.

And aren’t Kid Canaveral good, eh?  Eh?  Cracking tune.

[Edit: for those who have no idea what I'm talking about, my review of Away Game is here.]

I just don’t understand it.  I mean, I come back from the most amazing musical weekend I think I have ever enjoyed, and instead of being interested and happy for me, when I start telling people about it they get this weird look in their eyes which looks just a little like blind homicidal rage.  Even more unusually, this look only seems to really go away when I shush and complain about the bad weather in Edinburgh this time of year.  (The weather on Eigg, by the way, was awwwwwesome!)

Anyhow, this is the epitome, in its own quiet way, of the dilemma faced by much of the music industry at the moment.  Do you make things smaller and more exclusive, and risk cutting off people who genuinely want to support you and be a part of what you are doing, or do you allow things to grow to the extent where they become unwieldy, lose their magic and you cease to actually find them rewarding yourself? Read the rest of this entry »

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…!

The hardcore of the inner Fence were on the bill tonight, as I once again utterly failed to take part in any of the more emotionally nourishing festivities (apart from drinking and watching bands of course).

The best I managed was a half-hearted wander through to Cellardyke to see the washing line art exhibition, robustly rearranged by someone who wanted to use that particular bit of line to hang up his smalls.

After that, food, beer and tunes. Predictable, but satisfying.

This is my video diary from the third day of the Fence Collective’s Haarfest 2010.

The power was so doubtful in morning that the people repairing it managed to shut down even more houses, so it wasn’t until about five or six that we were confident that the whole evening wouldn’t have to take place under steam or pedal power, but come back on it did, eventually, and things were able to proceed as normal.

The lineup switched around a bit, with eagleowl having to go on a little early because of babysitting commitments back in Edinburgh (yeah, rock ‘n’ roll, bitches!), so eventually Inspector Tapehead ended up headlining their own unofficial album launch at long last.

And it was a fucking beauuuutiful evening in Anstruther.

Well due to the power cut caused by excessive rawking of the alt-folk variety, I couldn’t even try and upload this video for most of the day, so it’s a miracle it’s here at all, really.  Still, it only takes me an hour and a half to edit these in the morning, but then about an hour to export and, due to limited internet connections, about four hours to upload, so I am guessing they are going to be posted quite late in the day irrespective of power cuts.

Last night a combination of Reporter’s ambient soundscapes and The Oates Field’s imminent appearance caused the National Grid to spontaneously disown Anstruther, leaving the festival to candlelight and acoustic cover versions.

After King Creosote and The Earlies did the bulk of the hard work, it eventually turned into an almost-campfire singalong.  Due to being in a church hall, lighting an actual fire seemed a little reckless so all the candles were placed in the middle of the floor and the guitar was passed around.  By this point I’d fucked off to the Smugglers to arrange a fishing trip, however…

This is my video diary from the first day of the Fence Collective’s Haarfest.

This one doesn’t have much beyond me burbling, King Creosote explaining the festival and then some tunes from Adem, Admiral Fallow and Silver Columns.

Following installments will have a bit more Anstruthery atmosphere and so on, just as soon as I can get up there properly instead of coming back and forth from Edinburgh every night.

Christ, people are getting this shit up and running early this year.

I am not much of one for festivals, frankly.  All the tents and mud and rock ‘n’ roll rather fails to float my boat most of the time, and the sheer numbers of people really do put me off.  I never did like people all that much.

But there are a couple which I quite like, and they have both made unprecedentedly well-organised announcements this afternoon, so I thought I should pass them on.

Fence Homegame. The Homegame Festival is undoubtedly my favourite festival, taking place in the comforting surroundings of Anstruther, where you can find beds, clean sheets and comfortable showers.  Anyhow, the Fencey chaps have just let us know that next year it will be taking place on the weekend of the 12th-14th March, and that tickets will go on sale at noon on Tuesday 1st December only from the Fence website.  This means an almight digital free for all, of the kind which melted their server a couple of years ago, but if you don’t manage to get your hands on one then you might be able to find a few as they become available on the Beef Board as the time draws closer.

End of the Road Festival. Mrs. Toad had the mother of all sulks with the EotR folks when they failed to add Meursault to the bill for last year’s festival.  We’ll be trying to put that one right this year, but in the meantime they have announced a handful of bands already: Wilco, The Mountain Goats, The Low Anthem, A.A. Bondy, Diane Cluck with Anders Griffen and The Wilderness of Manitoba.  All good bands, although only the last one is new to me.  5000 people is right about my tolerance limit for groups of people, so I may have to consult with my midget companion on this one.

In any case, there you go, some fucking news for ya.  While it’s still fresh enough to actually be news.  Now that doesn’t happen every day around these parts.

Slow Club‘s performance at the Fence Collective’s Homegame Festival last month really shouldn’t have surprised me, but for some reason it did.  I’ve seen them before, at another Fence event in Edinburgh’s Caves a couple of years ago, and I really like their Moshi Moshi singles, but for some reason I’d allowed them to drift somewhat from my consciousness; I really don’t know why.

When they played at the Anstruther Town Hall, however, I was reminded pretty sharpish.  They were sharp, energetic and bags of fun to watch.  It all just seemed incredibly natural, watching them perform, as if playing their songs was simply something they found as normal and everyday as brushing their teeth.  Where other bands had laboured, for instance, under the appaling sound conditions, running the full gamut from quietly disconcerted to openly irritated, Charles and Rebecca just laughed it off, played through it and generally made it seem like it was the most insignificant thing in the world.

This attitude breezes through their music as well.  Even their less lyrically perky songs are infected with a relaxed, bouncy enjoyment and they rattled through their set at a fair clip.

The band are from Sheffield, but where up until only very recently there was a fairly thriving alternative music scene, loosely based around entities like the Sheffield Phonographic Corporation label, now there is apparently something of a wasteland.  Consequently, Slow Club seem to have been adopted by a number of other groups, whilst not necessarily being an obvious part of any of them.  Their label, Moshi Moshi, brings something of a scene with them, and they also seem to have been somewhat co-opted by the posh-folk crowd which includes the likes of Johnny Flynn, Noah & the Whale and Laura Marling.  Then there’s their relationship with Fence, which now stands at two Homegame Festivals and a Fence Club.

Their music also doesn’t seem to quite belong in any such easy niche, though.  It thumps along, with plenty of rockabilly and old fashioned rock ‘n’ roll, but they seem to get lumped in with alt-folkies which, apart perhaps from some of the company they keep, makes no sense at all.

Their album, Yeah So, is basically finished though, and will be out in July so maybe then they will get the chance to make an impact on the UK music scene more in keeping with who they themselves are, rather than being pigeonholed by either the city of their provenance or the other bands who like them.  After their superb performance at Homegame, I am really looking forward to this record, and so should you be.

***

The videos here are snippets from their Homegame set.  I actually recorded a whole interview with them while they were in Anstruther and, in the mother of all IT disasters, lost the fucking lot.  So my sincerest apologies to Charles and Rebecca, and to Debbie who set it up, but if you want to hear a proper interview with them then download DC’s podcast of his Waiting Room show for woxy.com, or alternatively go and check out Andy’s live Off the Beaten Tracks Session videos from the same day, as well as Dylan’s photos on Blueback Hotrod.  This must be a significant annoyance for professional music people actually, having to deal with an increasingly amateur music press, so I really am sorry.