Song, by Toad

I realised, when I saw that they were playing in Edinburgh, that I have been relatively quiet on the subject of all things Paris Motel for the last little while. I guess this kind of happens in a field where news, as much as anything, seems to be paramount. When I do take time out to reflect it almost always seem to be to swear about something, so reflecting on music I loved recently but haven’t taken the time to cosy up to for a bit always seems to be somewhat down the agenda.

Amy May is actually a professional musician. Not in the rock star sense, unsurprisingly, rather in the session, arrangement and live performance sense. As an example, having played viola with The Enemy (Toad begins to grind teeth) she has nothing but praise for them. To paraphrase, they really mean what they’re singing, they’re really nice, down to earth lads and they think about and engage with the world thoughtfully and sincerely. Hating their music like I do, it’s mildly confusing to hear them spoken of so warmly – can’t the world just be full of one-dimensional stereotypes, dammit!

This kind of career diversity kind of explains her attitude to her own band. It’s like a little oasis of free expression in a world full of crust-earning artistic compromises and consequently she refuses to be budged on anything – this is the one chance to absolutely and unflinchingly do the kind of music that she wants. “I sometimes wish I could write a pop song, sometimes people tell me I should, but it’s just not what comes out”.

Paris Motel’s mini-orchestra produce a wonderfully rich, layered sound on record, but due to the financial constrictions of travelling with a dozen folk, this evening is played with just Amy, Joe the drummer on autoharp and a guitarist they’ve barely played with before who happened to get in touch because he is a fan. They say this is pretty much normal – they basically have to generate a new arrangement of the songs for each tour, depending on who of their number is actually available at the time.

This evening, they’re struggling. The guitarist doesn’t know the songs that well, and he and Amy seem to approach these things differently. She’s on the verge of panic and sure it’ll be a disaster and he’s shrugging his shoulders a little – there’s not much you can do but go for it and hope for the best. It’s funny to see actually, because I can kind of sympathise with both parties, and as a fan I honestly don’t care – I have no doubt that the songs will carry the evening.

And they do, of course. Joe made the very wise decision to ditch the rather dominant bongos and play his percussion on the merchandise suitcase instead, which sounded a million times better. And Amy’s voice, when she remembers the words, is simply superb. The only issue really is that the guitar does little but keep the rhythm, and the percussion already does that. Because of the classical background of the band, Paris Motel songs are very textured things, and with a guitar doing no more than keep rhythm I find myself questioning the need to have it at all, but given he only learned the songs that afternoon it’s impossible to blame the guitarist for this.

Ultimately, what we’re here for is Amy’s old-fashioned, crystal clear voice, and the defeated sadness of her delivery. They have yet to entirely capture the peaks and troughs of the live performance in their studio stuff, but at least one aspect of that might be impossible: Amy May’s face. When she sings, her eyes look so woefully, sincerely, achingly sad that you’re drawn into the slightly magical , watery tragedy of the songs as if the heartache they sing of was genuinely your own. They’re eminently personal as well, apparently. For all the imagery in the songs is all very reminiscent of old fairy tales and nursery rhymes – a very English equivalent to the Brothers Grimm, perhaps – the actual stories are intensely personal.

As Amy herself puts it “It may be all fairy tales, but I know each and every one of those characters and everything that happens to them is something really important from my own life.” It is sincere, heartfelt music and it shows. If you ever get the chance to go and see them, do it.

Paris Motel – 071
Paris Motel – Catherine By the Sea

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This week the Edinburgh gig scene gathers pace slowly, but by the end of the week it’s going great guns, culminating in a weekend of Triptych splendour that will be the last of its kind. I think there’s pretty much bugger all going on today and tomorrow, but Wednesday is busy and it just gets better after that.

This week also represents the last ever Triptych Festival, which used to so splendidly showcase experimental and interesting music around Scotland. I didn’t like a lot of what they put on, but occasionally they came up with some gems, and this last one is no different, with the gorgeous Alela Diane headlining the Bongo Club on Sunday. And she, ladies and gentlemen, will be sticking around to record the next Toad Session on the Monday. I am so fucking chuffed about that I could do a little dance!

Wednesday 23rd April, 2008: Angus & Julia Stone & Paris Motel at Cabaret Voltaire.
I’d not describe Angus & Julia Stone as any better than decent, but Paris Motel are definitely worth seeing. They’ll be playing with a pared-down lineup and I think the best way to describe them would be as the house band on the Marie Celeste. Spooky and gorgeous.
Paris Motel – City of Ladies

Wednesday 23rd April 2008: Super Adventure Club at Henry’s Cellar Bar.
I know next to nothing about these guys, and apparently they are pretty new on the capital’s music circuit. I’ve had a bit of a listen to their MySpace page though and they sound pretty good to me: slightly spasmodic, experimental indie but with a slightly more acoustic bent that a lot of other stuff in this sort of territory.
Super Adventure Club – Built in Redundancy

Thursday 24th April 2008: Boyfriend/Girlfriend & Down the Tiny Steps at the Voodoo Rooms.
You all know how much I like the Tinies’ electronic pop stuff, and Girlfriend/Boyfriend are also well worth checking out. They’re quite standard indie, but I like ‘em nonetheless.
Boyfriend/Girlfriend – The Greatest High

Thursday 24th April 2008: The Un-Americans & Found & Frightened Rabbit & Withered Hand at the GRV.
Two of Scotland’s best bands, an Edinburgh favourite and a group I’ve never heard of. The Un-Americans have something of a dense, dirty blues sound which is rather promising, and I’ve never heard of them at all so definitely worth giving a go. Found and Withered Hand you know all about, and of course Frightened Rabbit have their new album Midnight Organ Fight to promote.
The Un-Americans – Jericho (Bootleg)

Friday 25th April 2008: Meursault & Fox Gang & Jesus H. Foxx (acoustic) at Henry’s Cellar Bar.
You know I love Meursault, but Fox Gang sound really rather good too and I’ve never had the chance to see them live. Provided I can stay sober enough in the pub after work on Friday, this week could be the on where I finally put that right. Their stuff sound quite mod-like at times, and has a good, funky beat underlying much of it and of course, most importantly, some bloody good tunes.
Fox Gang – White English

Sunday 27th April: Alela Diane & Michael Hurley at The Bongo Club.
Triptych may be no more, but they’re going out with a band here. Alela Diane’s Pirate’s Gospel was one of the loveliest albums of last year and I can’t wait to hear her fragile, bluesy folk live.
Alela Diane – Pieces of String

16. Bob Frank & John Murry – World Without End

It’s a deep, emotional and an amazingly harrowing record.  True murder ballads delivered with pathos, yet never shying away from their inherent horror.   Johnny Cash and Robert Fisher would be proud.

Bob Frank & John Murry – Joaquin Murietta, 1853

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17. Ice Cream Socialists – Belles & Missiles

Sheer, unhinged mental brilliance.  Imagine if indie, pop, rock, and at times even classical, country and hip-hop were let loose in the circus and sung by Kermit the Frog.  It may sound nuts but it works.  Sheer genius.

Ice Cream Socialists – Zagnut’s Revenge

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18. The Mabuses – Mabused

The indie band that kidnapped a couple of classical musicians and told them they were in a new band now, without ever explaining to them what indie music is.  It’s laid back indie pop, but the musical inventiveness lifts above just about anything else in this particular territory.

The Mabuses – Havana

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19. Paris Motel – In the Saltpetriere

I think I’ve described these guys as the band on the Marie Celeste and I don’t think I can better that.  Ethereal fairy tales, with a hint of the macabre, although I couldn’t find a single standout track for my Festive 50, the album as a whole is one of the best I’ve heard this year.

Paris Motel -  City of Ladies

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20. Donny Hue & the Colors – Folkmote

I’ll admit this didn’t seem that special to me at the time, although I enjoyed it very much.  There’s just something I find incredibly satisfying about it.  I couldn’t quantify what it is about this album, but it sits perfectly with me nonetheless.

Donny Hue & the Colors – Mountain Piece

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My what a splendid festival. You’ve read what I had to say about the thing (overview, day one, day two & day three), now here’s the ‘downloadable in one easy to digest chunk’ version, with more tunes.

I had a splendid time at this, I really did. The line-up was spectacularly good and, despite being not much more than a well-executed variant on the standard festival format, I would highly recommend it to those of you sick of the exercise in cattle-herding and aggressively intrusive marketing that the modern festival has become.

Anyhow, I’ve gone through the festival in chronological order, playing songs from artists in the order in which I attended them over the weekend. Hopefully I give you a decent overview of the festival itself as well as a taster of the quality of the lineup, from the indie legends to the connoisseur’s selection of emerging acts that made this such a quality bill. No ranting in this one either, or at least, very little. What a relief for you all.

Toadcast #12 – The End of the Roadcast

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1. Midlake – Young Bride (02.08)
2. Yo La Tengo – By the Time it Gets Dark (07.43)
3. My Brightest Diamond – Dragonfly (14.17)
4. King Creosote – You’ve No Clue Do You (23.19)
5. Monkey Swallows the Universe – Sheffield Shanty (28.29)
6. David Thomas Broughton – Unmarked Grave (34.56)
7. British Sea Power – Remember Me (46.11)
8. Port O’Brien – Five & Dime (51.39)
9. The Young Republic – Excuses to See You (56.14)
10. The Wave Pictures – Long Island (63.28)
11. Johnny Flynn & the Sussex Wit – Tickle Me Pink (70.44)
12. Paris Motel – My Demeter (77.20)
13. Charlie Parr – Worried Blues (80.53)
14. Howe Gelb – Get to Leave (88.34)
15. Lambchop – Up With People (95.35)

On Sunday I awoke feeling rather less groggy than the previous day, presumably owing to the lack of that marvelous late-night tequila/pink champagne combo. To further cement their legendary status, my splendid tent neighbours provided both bacon sarnies and tea when I dragged my freezing arse out of my tent in the morning. I could have married them, and their friend Ian and their silly lavender coloured VW camper all at once for that act of charity. Lovely, lovely people.

I scarpered up to the main stage to start the day on the Sunday. On the back of the festival, Simon has formed End of the Road Records to champion some of the splendid groups he came across in setting the thing up, and on Sunday there was something of a showcase of the people he signed.

Port O’Brien: Confident and entertaining, these lads play a kind of dusty West Coast Americana that can be sad and can be a full-on rock out. They went down so well they could barely dig up enough CDs after the gig to satisfy all the eager punters, which was brilliant to see.
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Port O’Brien – Five & Dime
The Young Republic: This was a cracking set. I actually enjoyed it far more than their performance the day before because they pretty much played all my favourite songs. They clatter along when they get going, these fellas, with a brand of rock ‘n’ roll country music meets film score that takes them through the genres at a frightening pace. They adjusted seamlessly to playing the big stage, and if you can catch them supporting My Brightest Diamond on her current UK tour then I highly recommend it. I had the opportunity to interview them afterwards as well, which was excellent fun – had The Wave Pictures not been on at four then it could have gone on for hours.
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The Young Republic – She’s Not Waiting Here This Time

The Wave Pictures: Brilliant – these guys are so relaxed and affable on stage they come across as a slapdash pub band who accidentally happened to be extraordinarily gifted. It’s about the most unpolished sound in indie at the moment, but they had a hardcore group of fans who knew ever single song, which they played on request basis. Just signed to a small label and with a new album release hopefully on the horizon, these lads truly are excellent. Difficult in some ways – Dave doesn’t exactly boast popular music’s most mellifluous voice – but excellent nevertheless.
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The Wave Pictures – When I Leave You For Somebody Else

Johnny Flynn & the Sussex Wit: Another superb performance. This is the new sound of English folk at its finest. Wistful and contemplative one minute, then foot-stampingly infectious the next. I knew a few of Mr. Flynn’s songs beforehand, but he played plenty more that I loved during the set which bodes very, very well for future album possibilities. Quite excellent.
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Johnny Flynn & the Sussex Wit – Leftovers

Paris Motel: Everyone has an image in their heads of the band on the Titanic playing as the ship tragically sank (although when it took that prick Leonardo Di Crappio with it, it somehow seemed rather less tragic I thought). Well, this lot are a bit like the band on the Marie Celeste. Spooky, slightly magical tales that can come across as macabre old fairytales, mix with sea shanties and old-fashioned laments to create a truly amazing atmosphere. Their formal dress makes it even more so, with the gorgeous Amy May in her plain black evening dress leading proceedings, although any pomposity is instantly diffused by her self-deprecating and humorous manner. I loved this set, truly exceptional, and their album is out on Loose on the 1st of October I believe. Buy it, honestly do.
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Paris Motel – City of Ladies

Charlie Parr: A classic, bearded old bluesman, with rich deep voice, beard and scruffy demeanour. He plucked at his guitar, invited us all to visit him in Duluth, Minnesota and played half a dozen songs written whilst thinking about his dad. I know absolutely nil about this gentleman I’m afraid, so you’re on your own exploring his stuff. Let me know how you get on.
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Charlie Parr – Worried Blues

Howe Gelb: One of my musical heroes and one I came within a whisker of being able to interview for Song, by Toad. Rats, bollocks. Anyhow, his set was just like his music: meandering, explorative and prone to following whatever train of thought kidnapped it at the time. Gelb is a serial collaborator with his records, and the show was much like that as well. He called all sorts of other musicians on to help him perform, bringing an ad hoc, friendly tone to the show. None of this veneer of ‘performance’, just a load of people sharing music together. Superb.
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Howe Gelb – Felonious

Lambchop: Not a natural headline act, one might think, with their hushed, delicate country music perhaps far too quiet for this kind of slot – traditionally a rowdy celebration of three days of hedonistic excess. Or so you’d think. Actually they played their set with much more vim than you’d generally hear on record, and they ended with the glorious crowd-pleaser, with absolutely everyone coming on stage to provide the fantastic choral climax. Brilliant.
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Lambchop – Let’s Go Bowling

Mrs Toad and myself went to Bestival on the Isle of Wight last year and, although we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, I must admit that this year I was after something a little smaller. There’s something rather uninspiring about bald fields covered in a sea of broken plastic cups and a two hour queue for warm beer. Once the truly abysmal Bestival lineup for 2007 was announced – Beastie Boys, Chemical Brothers, Primal Scream? Have I gone back in time by ten years or something? – I decided that was it, I was looking for something smaller and far more friendly. Sod the bands, I just want a nice weekend.

Well I’d exchanged a few emails with Simon from End of the Road Records about The Young Republic, who are superb and recently signed to the label. I knew the label had formed from the End of the Road Festival so I thought it might be a good one to take a chance on. There wasn’t much in the lineup that I recognised, but what the hell – a festival full of smaller, less well known bands would be quite fun. And besides, Howe Gelb was on there, so that did it for me and I bought a couple of tickets.

That was something in the region of a month ago. Since then that lineup has just got better and better, as Simon has dropped one gem after another into the mix. This morning they announced Midlake and Yo La Tengo. I can’t believe it! Suddenly instead of just looking forward to this, I am excited as little boy.

Full line-up thus far (I’ve highlighted the ones I think are interesting and provided a few samples – although I haven’t used the little player this time as the javascript would slow the whole page down too much with this many links, sorry):

Alessi (music)
Archie Bronson Outfit
Architecture In Helsinki - Heart it Races
The Bees
Besnard Lakes – Cedric’s War
Brakes
The Broken Family Band
C. W. Stoneking
Charlie Parr
The Congregation
Dan Sartain
Darren Hayman
David Thomas Broughton
David Vandervelde
Devastations
Euros Childs
Findlay Brown
Fionn Regan
Herman Dune
Howe Gelb – Pontiac Slipstream
Hush the Many
Hyacinth House
Indigo Moss
James Yorkston – Someplace Simple
Jeffrey Lewis
Jim White
Joan As Police Woman
Johnny Flynn – Brown Trout Blues
Josh T Pearson
King Creosote – Missionary
Micah P Hinson – I Still Remember
Midlake – Van Occupanther
Misty’s Big Adventure
Monkey Swallows the Universe
My Brightest Diamond
Paris Motel - Entrez Dans la Salpetriere
Pete and the Pirates
Port O’Brien
Reigns
Richard Swift
Seasick Steve
Slow Club
Sons of Noel and Adrian
Stephanie Dosen – Vinalhaven Harbour
Sunny Day Sets Fire
Super Furry Animals
Telegrams
The Twilight Sad – And She Would Darken the Memory
Viking Moses
Woodpigeon – Home
Yo La Tengo – Tom Courtenay
The Young Republic – Your Heart Belongs in Tennessee

Now all Simon has to do is pull off some miracle of scheduling that allows me to see absolutely all these bands, as well as leaving some space for me to check out some of the new ones. Good luck, mate!

This is slightly in advance, as reviews go, but that is because Song, by Toad is currently in receipt of its first ever (thank you Amy, you always remember your first time!) pre-release promo copy. The Tough Love lads have promised me ones for Honeytrap and The Sequins, but Amy May of Paris Motel was the first to get hers through the letterbox at Toad Hall and for that I shall always think of this album with special affection.

Right, as loyal, some would say worshipfully devoted, readers you naturally all remember what I had to say about their brilliant EP, 071, which I absolutely love. Well this record doesn’t quite match the drifting variety of that one – it’s longer, of course, so that would be impossible – but it has the same lush qualities.

If I had to describe In The Salpetriere it would be thus: disturbing dreamscapes for malevolent fairytales. After comparing her to Sarah Blackwood from Dubstar in my last review, I have discovered that Amy May hears that all the time, so let me clear up the comparison: their voices are really similar, the music is really not at all. This is more along the lines of a less obviously disjointed Lewis Carroll. In Through the Looking Glass you always knew that something odd was going on, but not here. Here you hear lovely fairytales in song form, but something in the tone is slightly disturbing and you slowly come to suspect that all is not quite right.

There are some slightly bland songs, but most of this is absolutely fantastic. The intro and outro, so often a throwaway for a band, are both fantastic: luscious, creepy and beautiful. They are like the sleeping draught that overcomes a mythical prince: he is being lulled to sleep but all the time he is sure that something is going slightly wrong.

It’s not Tim Burton, this, it’s the Disney film that is being overtaken by Tim Burton characters so subtly you never even see it coming. It reminds me a little of Vermillion Kisses by Barry Adamson actually, a song I am almost certain you won’t have heard, but one that displays an equal flair for the subtly disturbing undercurrent, albeit without the consistently amazing orchestration.

The album’s out on the 2nd July; buy and love, Toadlings, buy and love. There’s a tour too – see website – this music must be ace live.

Barry Adamson – Vermillion Kisses
Paris Motel – Three Steps
Paris Motel – My Demeter

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