Song, by Toad

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.

Anyone who has bought Animal Magic Tricks lovely Soil album (available from her MySpace page) will know of Frances’ electronic low-fi scratching, which brings a mysteriously elusive atmosphere to her songs.  Anyone who hasn’t bought her album should.  Her voice sounds fragile, but when she opens the valves she actually has a pretty impressive set of pipes on her.  Her voice is gorgeous actually, and complements the roughness of the music beautifully. Recently she’s been playing with a cellist – Pete from the Leg, specifically, who also plays with Alex Cornish – and the combination is bloody lovely.

There’s something rich and comforting about cello sounds, which gives a lovely warmth to her songs.  It’s as if the alienation of the wavering keyboard sounds and the tremble in her voice are being offered the promise that it is all alright after all.  It’s like reading the saddest part of a book with a comfortable knowledge that there’s going to be a happy ending.  Frances has recorded three songs with Pete when she was in Edinburgh recently, and played with him both at Homegame this year and the warmup gig beforehand, so hopefully this is something that we’re going to see a little more of in her recorded material because I love the combination.

These are a couple of videos from her Homegame set, so you can see what I’m talking about.

Whilst up in Fife at Homegame this year pretty much everyone crashed on the floor of the two cottages Mrs. Toad and I rented in Pittenweem, and this is also where we all ended up retreating to finish off the day’s drinking after the pubs of Anstruther finally got sick of all the folkies and closed their doors.

My old pal DC from the Waiting Room had intended to get a quick interview with Neil from Meursault all weekend, but they never quite managed to make it happen, unfortunately.  Consequently DC had to settle for a couple of songs performed at the end of Sunday evening in the cottage after everyone had spent the best part of the day pouring beer down their gullets.

These videos and the accompanying mp3s may be just a tiny little bit shonky, but they are rather funny and do give you something of an idea of the weekend .  For those who were there, this particular evening turned into something of a carnival of offensive and spectacularly inappropriate humour, pretty much all of which I’ve edited out.  Sorry people, but it’s best for everyone this way.  The only way to find out just how bad it got is to come next year.

The episode of the Waiting Room on which these recordings appear, and which includes the overall wrap-up of Homegame in general, can be found here.

Meursault – William Henry Miller Pt.1 – Waiting Room Session (The ‘Dylan Gives Everyone the Clap’ Version)

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Meursault – Hard On – Waiting Room Session (Charles Latham Cover)

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My Homegame review is pretty brief, but it is here, and there is a wee video thingy as well for you to enjoy.  This is of course the accompanying podcast, with songs either from the bands I saw there, or from EPs and bits and pieces I acquired at the merch table up in Fife.

I should really have included some interviews and shit in this podcast, shouldn’t I, but then I wasn’t actually as well prepared or as organised as I should have been, really.  Inasmuch as I kind of think I would prefer my video to have turned out a bit more like Milo’s, I would also have preferred my podcast to turn out a little more like DC’s Homegame show over at the Waiting Room.  I’m not saying that I dislike the stuff that I’ve done this year, just that to my eyes it lacks a little bit of fizz and personality, unfortunately.  Oh well, it’s all a learning process, and by the time Wickerman comes around I reckon I should be able to produce something a lot better.

Toadcast #69 – The Fifecast

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01. The Phantom Band – Island (03.00)
02. The Hand – Happa Yori (15.02)
03. King Creosote – Nothing Rings True (19.52)
04. James Yorkston & Adrian Crowley – Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Your Grieviance (25.42)
05. Jake Flowers – One For the Ditch (30.07)
06. Love.Stop.Repeat – In the Aeroplane Over the Sea (33.25)
07. Viking Moses – Clown School (39.03)
08. Inspector Tapehead – A Fillet of Banjo (46.14)
09. Animal Magic Tricks – Smallish Hooves (51.26)
10. Jonnie Common – Taken Out (57.16)

At this year’s amazing Homegame Festival, run by our DIY pals at the Fence Collective (who have been incredibly helpful in the start up of Song, by Toad Records), I had the chance for a bit of an interview with Scottish indie hero Malcolm Middleton.

Neil from Meursault, who is a longstanding fan, conducted most of the interview itself, and we teamed up with Andy from the new Edinburgh live session showcase Off the Beaten Tracks, who shot a couple of session videos at the same time.  You’ll have to go to their site to see the session videos, but it’s well worth the visit as they have stuff from Team Turnip and Come On Gang already up, with Slow Club, Meursault, Randan Discotheque and, I think, Found all to be added in the coming weeks.

The interview itself was really nice, as can be seen in the video above.  Malcolm himself has a reputation for being a miserable bastard, and I have to confess that made me a little apprehensive about talking to him.  I’m still new to interviewing people and, whilst it’s piss-easy when things are going well, turning things around when they are going badly is something of a skill, and one which I am yet to come anything close to mastering. Read the rest of this entry »

< Day Two
<< Day One

Did I mention that my head hurt on the Saturday? Would you be surprised to know that it hurt on the Sunday as well? Didn’t think so. I skipped Beefball, to my shame, and only managed to pootle along to music-related shenanigans by about two in the afternoon. It was like being a student again.

In fact so severe was my hangover that the only thing you could really do with it was give the bastard a taste of its own medicine, so yes, more beer it was! I bumped into The Pictish Trail on the way down to the Hew Scott Hall, and he was nice about Mary Hampton that I decided to see what the lass was made of. She was a skinny lass and friendly of demeanour, and played her songs with an intense, otherworldy air to her. It was nice – lovely English folk in the modern hippy style, if you know what I mean. That and a couple of quick bottles of Becks made for a fine way to ease into the day.

I tried to get in to see James Yorkston, but by the time we made it up to the hall it would have involved climbing over half of Homegame, so there seemed no real point – grab a paper and head to the pub. There is little more pleasant than convivially drinking away your hangover in the pub on a Sunday, as Scotland’s weather never quite makes up its mind outside. It was almost a shame there was all this bloody music to intrude on matters.

Again, I found myself taking it kind of easy on the Sunday evening – relaxing in the Hew Scott Hall at the Red Deer Club night, and enjoying some bloody marvellous acts*, like George Thomas, Sara Lowes and Magic Arm. The latter two have released superb mini albums this year, and their performances here had all the wit and warmth of those records. I was a bit pished by this point, and had wandered over to Dunc le Chunk to ask about the re-jigged lineup and ended up pestering him, Sara and Marc from Magic Arm for most of the rest of the evening. The shame of it.

Anyhow, assuming I didn’t ruin their evening, I certainly didn’t ruin my own, which was brilliant. Again, folk wandered in and out from time to time, and I ended up chattering with all sorts of people I didn’t really know particularly, but who were unfailingly tolerant of my drunken enthusiasm. The gigs themselves were really excellent as well. It was such a relaxed, friendly atmosphere that it seemed to spread to the musicians themselves, as they all appeared to take it pretty easy, enjoy the evening and play with a kind of relaxed ease that made the evening such a pleasure. It really was like they’d just popped round your house to play some songs and have a laugh.

Magic Arm – Move Out
Sara Lowes – Down & Out

*Did you know that The Red Deer Club released the Moulettes EP earlier this year? No, me neither, first I’d heard about it.

< Day One
Day Three >

I awoke with a considerable hangover on Saturday, but a bloody great greasy breakfast saw to that. Tattie scones – anyone outside Scotland know them? Magic for mopping up the egg yolk and bacon grease from your plate as you swill the last of your coffee.

I did some husbandly things in the morning, traipsing into St. Andrews with Mrs. Toad to find a memory card for the camera, so we only caught The Pictish Trail in the morning. Johnny played a solo set which was, bar something of a deranged electro wig-out on the last song, a guitar based affair. He’s some set of lungs on him does Mr. Lynch, and has an album coming out very soon, on Fence Records. Given the amount of time he dedicates to the label itself and to playing in King Creosote’s band, it’s nothing short of a miracle he found the time.

The Pictish Trail – Words Fail Me Now

Bar brief excursions for OLO Worms and Player Piano, I spent pretty much the rest of the evening in the Hew Scott Hall at the Tracer Trails evening.

OLO Worms are really not my thing at all – a little bit too much experimentation going on there and not really enough straightforward tune-writing. Not that they don’t have some genuinely lovely bits of course, but there’s a lot of mentalism there that I struggle to quite come to terms with. But that, folks, is the beauty of the Fence Collective: nowhere are you more likely to be exposed to something new and peculiar that they have taken a chance on, and that is there just because someone has found something interesting in the music was enough to spark genuine interest. Fingers & Thumbs is about as straight-up a pop song as you’re likely to hear from them.

OLO Worms – Fingers & Thumbs

A little bit more traditional is Player Piano, a star of Homegame, erm, three I think. Mrs. Toad and I saw his excellent solo set in the Erskine Hall in 2006, and this was the only gig of all of Homegame that she insisted in coming to this year. Jeremy Radway plays an old-fashioned kind of music, part rock ‘n’ roll, part music hall in a sense, and with a little bit of soul in there as well. For this set he amped it up a bit and made some noise, bringing touches of 70s proto-metal to the evening, which was odd, but good. And if you like the sound of that, listen to this – just gorgeous:

Player Piano – Mercy (A.C. Mix)

As for the Tracer Trails stuff, well regular readers of this blog will be well familiar with most of the bands mentioned – Eagleowl, Rob St. John, Adrian Crowley, Rich Amino and Withered Hand all played – so there’s no need to go into the music too much, apart from pointing out that I pretty much enjoyed the lot. As much as any one act I actually enjoyed the atmosphere and the evening the most. A couple of the band members swapped around, there was a blinding reworking of Rich Amino’s Ribena song, making the subject of necrophilia the focus, and Mrs. Toad got a little mashed and insisted to me that we release virtually fucking everyone on Song, by Toad Records and get the lot round to record sessions.

This is the beauty of a small, friendly scene like this. I mentioned Song, by Toad Records to Johnny Lynch who pretty much runs Fence and he had all sorts of useful tips and advice and help. Hopefully he’ll be on the Toad Sessions pretty soon as well. Fence also invited Manchester’s Red Deer Club Records to take over an evening in one of the halls as well – small enterprises run by genuine enthusiasts and who see one another as potential sources of support and help and fun and not as adversaries.

So we sat there in that hall, people drifting in and out as they went to other things, half the people discussing their little personal projects with one another, chatting to the musicians and chatting to friends they largely know from the Fence forums, or the Beef Board, as it is known, and it was genuinely fucking brilliant. This is one of the things that is oddly contradictory about Web 2.0 and all this technological shite that so isolates us at our desks, using MySpace and email and blogs and discussion boards and Facebook and IM and anything else rather than actually having a conversation with anyone: I have made friends with more real, flesh and blood people by fannying about on the internet than I ever have by any other way.

And would Fence Records or the Edinburgh indie-folk scene or the Red Deer Club and all these disparate-yet-interrelated communities still exist without all this? Of course they would, I’m no deranged technology evangelist, but the slightly contradictory link between all these virtual friends and the easy, friendly, cosy atmosphere of the Hew Scott Hall on the Saturday makes me feel quite optimistic. And it also gave me a stinking fucking hangover. But virtual friendships clearly are actually real, they are not poor second-cousins to meeting people in the flesh, they are every bit as real and as meaningful.

Rob St. John – The Acid Test
Rich Amino – One Hundred & Blue
Adrian Crowley – Bless Our Tiny Hearts
Eagleowl – This is Not Your Lucky Day

Sorry a couple of these songs are re-posts, but I just don’t have that much stuff by Rob & Eagleowl in particular that I can share.

Day Two >
Day Three >>

The reason the truly excellent Campfires & Battlefields took over all things Toad this weekend is that I was away with Mrs. Toad, and he very kindly volunteered to keep things ticking over in our absence. You will surely all join me in thanking him for his excellent job, and I guess you may be at least slightly curious as to what exactly we were up to.

Well a large number of people in the Fence Collective have known each other since childhood and, despite gathering many other folk along the way, are still very firmly rooted in the Fife town of Anstruther where many of the original members grew up. So, despite the increasing prominence of the Collective’s musical endeavours, with the success of King Creosote, Found and James Yorkston, they all still like to get back together once a year for a weekend, get completely cabbaged and play lots and lot of music.

Mrs. Toad and I have been to the last three of these and we both love them, but for different reasons. She likes going to a seaside town for a weekend, where she can go to one or two gigs, but basically abandon me to my musical enthusiasms and read the FT from cover to cover. I like going to a festival where half the bands are mental, half are inspired, half are awful, half are beautiful and you genuinely have no idea what you’re going to see from one gig to the next. I don’t think I know anyone other than the Fence lot who take even a fraction as many chances with music, or who are anything like so confident to put on something completely left field and bizarre, safe in the knowledge that it will get a fair listen and genuine appreciation from their audience.

One of the things about being married of course is that I was not just travelling up to Anstruther as a music fanatic, I was also going there as a (briefly) dutiful husband. Mrs. Toad and I have gone for a meal at the absolutely fucking wonderful Cellar Restaurant every one of the three years we’ve been to Homegame, and so we did again. It’s expensive, but it’s a ritual and a treat and we love it. You have a seat with a G&T, browse the menu and the wine list, and eventually wander through to the dining room and spend all night over one of the best meals you will eat. They don’t turn the tables, so generally we’ve been the last out. This year we went along early though, and after a lovely few hours where things were a little more Mr. Creosote than King Creosote, Mrs. Toad returned to the cottage and, for me, the festival commenced.

I’d rather disappointingly missed Art Pedro unfortunately, whose set coincided with our esculent* escapades, but that was a sacrifice which had to be made. I am determined to see him play at some point however, but this was not to be the time.

Art Pedro – Girl From School

I did make it for Down the Tiny Steps, fortunately. You should all know how highly I rate these lads by now, so I won’t go into it too much, save to say that their lineup is even more slimline now than it was the last time I saw them. The hole in the lineup left no corresponding hole in the music however, which is a sort of bizarre Scot-hop folktronica. Sort of. It’s superb for late in a day of drinking and listening basically, because it’s eminently danceable and gorgeously wistful at the same time. Ideal for that reserved indie sway, which is about as close to dancing as I get most of the time. Fortunately for the Tinies, others were not so shy.

Down the Tiny Steps – Revenge

After the Tinies and before we repaired to the Pink House – for a party where I ended up swilling whisky from a hip flask out of one hand and red wine from the bottle with the other and presumably talking monumental amounts of garbage throughout – there was time for a show-closer from Jon Hopkins. I doubt many of you know of Mr. Hopkins, and neither do I, particularly. I know he is a very steeply rising star in the world of production and has been faithfully described as being a thoroughly down to earth and friendly chap despite this. I also know he has done a number of superlative remixes of Fence songs, in particular King Creosote’s Circle My Demise for a De-Fence release last year. I am not massively into laptop music most of the time, but at that stage of the night, drunk and giddy, I really enjoyed his set.

The rest of the evening, as you can imagine, was a bit of a blur.

Jon Hopkins – Circle My Demise

* I have to confess that I dug this one up in the thesaurus. What an excellent word, though, don’t you think?

What’s happening in Edinburgh this week? Erm, well mostly bugger all actually. In fact, I can’t find anything that I’d really bother going to see this week, but not to fear for one of the first great live events of the year is upon us: The Fence Collective Homegame. But more about that later, because it isn’t in Edinburgh, whereas this is:

Thursday 27th March: Isosceles at The Voodoo Rooms.
Alright, I’m scraping the barrel a bit with this one, I admit, but I had to list something. The only reason I say scraping is because I know nothing at all about these fellows, and I am not entirely sure it’s my sort of thing, on first listen, but Billy from Spins ‘n’ Needles is going along and seeing as the missus is in God Bless America this week I thought I might pop along for sociable reasons. And what a fucking excellent song Kitch Bitch is.
Isosceles – This is Where it Ends
Isosceles – Kitch Bitch

Normally I find Bart’s weekly incursions into this thread to be something of a bane, because it invariably means I have missed something good, but this week I find myself pleading for his help. Is there anything good happening this week, Bart? Anything?

Well, now that’s over with, what’s all this Homegame business then? Well if you read this blog regularly you almost certainly know all about Fence Records. They are based in Anstruther on the Fife coast and every year they all return to the town, invite those of us lucky enough to snag tickets in the eight minutes it took them to sell out, and spend all weekend getting absolutely cabbaged and playing lots and lots of great tunes.

Bands you have read about these pages that will be playing include Down the Tiny Steps, Art Pedro, Rob St.John, Eagleowl, The Pictish Trail, Viva Stereo, Kid Canaveral and of course the two most famous ones: King Creosote and James Yorkston. So you see why I’m excited. A dozen great bands and a long weekend on the Fife coast with my charmingly indifferent flower of delicate beauty, Mrs. Toad. She just goes for the weekend at the seaside really, and doesn’t pay much, if any, attention to any of the bands. Which in a silly way I sort of like.