It’s fair to say I was an early adopter of TNP. Initially they had some of the hallmarks of what I call Lamacq Rock ™. Evening Radio 1 friendly, signed to Domino, and with neo-post-punk sound that got them bracketed with Klaxons, LCD Soundsystem et al. The drummer was a model for brands like Dior and Prada. So far, so late 00s Indie Pop. But from the off there was something otherworldly about them. I saw an early gig back in 2008 and there was definitely something going on, a certain intensity and seriousness, whatever it was…they meant it. It wasn’t this gig but it went something like this:
In fact the clues were all there – they sure weren’t The Kaiser Chiefs. And sure enough 5 critically acclaimed albums later, here they are at the White Hotel which is already packed to the rafters, rapt and ready. Now settled around a core of twin brothers Jack and George Barnett they have evolved into a band that can be comfortably filed alongside the unfathomable fringes of the mildewy English underground alongside This Heat, The Work, Robert Wyatt, Anthony Moore, Scritti Politti, imperial phase Talk Talk, Bark Psychosis – you know ‘that lot’. This is deadly serious music but with a yearning melancholic edge and a very appealing musicality and melody. They also like beats, some tracks are underpinned by a lurching, hip hop influenced, massive attack thwack (which they were always doing from the early days).
Tonight’s set draws on the delicate but bracing new LP ‘Crooked Wing’ along with choice cuts from their modest but tightly quality-controlled back catalogue. We get everything from piano driven, post-Industrial ballads like ‘I’m Already Here’ – to a thunderous, tub-thumping ‘We Want War’. Twin Jack is an engaging vocal presence – besuited, sometimes donning a Bowie-esque trilby, throwing some shapes and generally making an effort to put a bit of a show on and ‘project’ (readers of this blog will know how much I appreciate that).
The sight-lines in the ‘orrible ‘otel mean it’s hard to see what else is going on but there are mallet instruments, a tabletop guitar thing and lots of electronics and percussion including the obligatory chains for someone to rattle. On previous live occasions they could be a little dry, a little studied – often swelled to 10 or more musicians, depending on the budget. Tonight they perform as an economical 4 piece, in a packed club rather than a more theatrical setting – and far from being limited by the more minimal approach they really shine – the songs get a chance to roam more than usual – like ‘V – Island Song’ which extends it’s beautiful organ coda out so we can bask in it for a few more minutes. They’re ‘a band’ tonight rather than the twins and some hired hands.
It all comes together with the closing epic ‘Organ Eternal’ – interlocking Steve Reich keys, gradually building percussion and lightning bolts of guitar that builds slowly into a series of crescendos and waves that far outshine the (already excellent) LP version. Toward the end, they borrow a neat trick from Kraftwerk and each Puritan steps away in turn takes a bow, leaving the stage to the others to keep the eternal groove going until there is just one Puritan left to decide when to take us out of the stratospheric orbit back down to Salford. This is the best performance I’ve seen them do. Coherent, connective and definitive. No encore. Less is more. They really should play more. Catch the 4 Piece Puritans if you can.
We reported from Seefeel’s spellbinding in peformance in Manchester last year (read all about it here) and since then there has been more activity, not least a stunning reissue of their early EPs collected along with the legendary Aphex Twin remixes as ‘Pure Impure’ which means their incredible back catalogue is pretty much all ‘back in print’. To celebrate, Mark Clifford has created a solo, audio-visual show for a short tour effectively doing Seefeel ‘In Dub’.
Support tonght comes from Crimewave who we saw recently in Manchester and his heavy monster beats land very well once again, channeling The Young Gods, Meat Beat Manifesto and imperial phase Hip Hop coupled with vocals and layers of guitar fx.
There’s a modest sized crowd in by the time Mark takes to the stage. It’s Sunday, its the end of Half Term and to be fair a Laptop/Mixer performance isn’t much of a spectator sport. What made Seefeel truly special is they were (are) a group that brilliantly blurred the line between purely electronic/sampled music and band performances to the point where it’s hard to pinpoint who is playing what. Without Sarah on vocals, Mark on guitar, live bass and drums it does just become – someone with a Latop and some knobs to twiddle – albeit that someone is responsible for some my favourite and most treasured music. But I’m here for it and the faithful are here for it too.
The visuals are curiously minimal too but based on a simple but clever idea – A camera pointing at the stage and repeating the absence of anything other than the edge of the Mixer table – using infinity and video feedback chaos to create patterns and interference – I can’t help thinking it would have worked better if Mark had stood centre stage and give the camera more information to deal with but it’s strangely effective and fits the musical theme. It’s one that is crying out for a more immersive venue space where you could really go to town on it.
There’s no faulting the majestic music, as Clifford pulls up recognisable themes from the early EPs and the ‘Quique’ LP, goes rogue with the FX and gets into to remixing on the fly – deconstructing the tracks as he goes, pulling focus on sounds that are familiar from the originals – snatches of vocal or eerie washes of guitar and pushing the beats and basslines into the heavy dub zone. It’s great to hear and makes me think a whole LP of Dub remixes would be very welcome or even just some soundboard recordings of these shows – just dropping that hint right there.
So as wonderful as the music was – it didn’t quite work as a performance tonight. In a smaller venue or maybe presented like one of those ‘Boiler Room’ sets where people get in amongst it and watch the artist at close quarters it would have been much more engaging – in a underoccupied gig venue on a sobering Sunday night in Leeds, not so much.
Just outside the city limits of Sheffield, Forge is a relatively new music venue. It is reached by crossing the Tinsley Canal, ducking under a railway arch, passing still functioning industries, the twinkling lights of the city in the distance until you reach the converted Victorian steel forge – it’s an almost too perfect setting for Cabaret Voltaire.
Over time, the sonic ripples that three mischievous teenagers created by larking around with tape recorders and primitive electronics in a Sheffield attic are still only just becoming clear. They were inventing the future of music. They were also researching our future and critiquing it. They were doing this in 1973(!) before Kraftwerk had ditched the woodwind and released ‘Autobahn’.
It’s fair to say this is one of the more unlikely musical reunions in recent years. Of the original attic trio Chris Watson left in 1981 to work in TV – most notably as a highly respected sound recordist for wildlife documentaries. Although he swapped a life in electronic pop music for working with David Attenborough he never forgot his roots and continued to release field recordings, sometimes bent into uncanny musical shapes like ‘El Tren Fantasma’ and the recent ‘Oxmardyke’ (highly recommended both). Stephen Mallinder (Mal) went on to have a flourishing solo career, teaming up the likes of John Grant and Jane Horrocks. Richard H.Kirk is no longer with us of course, although he claimed the Cabs name for a brace of new recordings and played sporadic live shows in his final years – albeit with a militant ‘no nostalgia’ stance and playing only sets of his own, ferocious new material. It is fair to say, it would be highly unlikely he’d be up strapping on a guitar and playing ‘Nag Nag Nag’.
So it’s a surprise and a delight that Chris and Mal have reunited as Cabaret Voltaire for a straightforward celebration — a chance to square the circle of fire, have some fun, and craft a new performance to satisfy the surge of interest that has grown exponentially during their absence. There is no new LP to promote. This is a retrospective rather than a reformation. There’s only a handful of live dates (suffice to say this isn’t a Gallagher Bros style cash grab) but those few dates sold out instantly and the excitement in the air is palpable. Dear reader I am thrilled to bits – I have been obsessed with the Cabs since 1990 when I first saw a feature, including some clips of ‘Nag Nag Nag’ and ‘Yahar’ on Snub TV where they were promoting ‘Groovy Laidback & Nasty’ (a collaboration with Chicago House legend Marshall Jefferson) and tried to fathom how they joined all those dots. Formative stuff.
It’s worth remembering that, apart from Kirk’s sporadic solo shows the last time there was a ‘tour’ was in 1992. I had a ticket for a gig in Liverpool that was cancelled as were several other dates due to selective appeal. The band were floundering somewhat – making decent but under-the-radar electronica records. There was a nag-nag-nagging sense they were playing catch up rather than blazing the trails for others to follow.
33 years late….Bass bin rattling thumps herald ‘Theme From Earthshaker’ and four musicians file on stage to a massive roaring welcome. Watson is presiding studiously over a bank of modular synths conjuring all sorts of spectral waveforms. Mal is flitting between a series of mics so he can do straight vocals, vocoder and terrifying Dalek voices that make those early CV records so unsettling and downright alien – and occasionally playing an odd little vintage bass guitar as only he can. They’re joined by Eric Random – a musician deeply embedded in the DNA of post-punk Manchester and Sheffield since the 1970s. He played on several CV records including the seminal ‘2×45’ and his scything guitars are a revelation tonight – he’s perhaps the 4th Cab. On electronic percussion should Mal’s long-time collaborator (as well as John Foxx and many others) Benge – but he’s got a sick note and been replaced at last minute by Oliver (from the group Moonlandingz) who does a remarkable job (apparently he was planning to be in the audience and now has the dream ticket thwacking out the beats instead).
So how do you go about representing the long and complex career of CV in around 80 minutes?. Their early material could be abrasive and murky, sometimes disturbing. They often changed direction – sometimes alienating fans along the way who perhaps didn’t understand that CV wanted to keep progressing, keep exploring new sounds, new rhythms and new ways to communicate. They wanted to make people dance too. They wanted to make Pop records, albeit in their own roguish way and with the same geopolitical and social themes.
The opener is an unexpected choice (’24/24′ from ‘The Crackdown’) recoded after Chris had gone to Tyne Tees Television. As it turns out the set draws heavily on that album and ‘Micro-Phonies’ when they were signed to Virgin Records and becoming more of an electro pop band, albeit informed by the same impulses of their less commercially minded work. It’s clear that they have spent a lot of time working out the set, recreating sounds and reimagining songs to the point that it’s like we’re hearing what they would have done if they’d had access to more advanced gear at the time. Songs like ‘Animation’ and ‘Just Fascination’ suddenly sound more like the classic synth pop hits that could have been (the fact that Phil Oakey of the Human League is stood a few feet away from me nodding in appreciation only underlines that one). Perhaps the most striking upgrade comes with ‘The Set Up’. On the original Rough Trade single from 1978 it’s a brooding, lo-fi Velvet Underground whine with an unsettling and relentless Bontempi beat. 2025 Cabaret Voltaire turn this into a monstrous technoid cyber-garage drone of interweaving buzzsaw guitars and thundering rhythms. It’s utterly astonishing.
The sound in the venue is immaculate. Loud, full of energy and vivid with detail. Everything needed to be right tonight because this might never happen again. The lighting and presentation is also perfect – CV were always ahead of the game in using video art and projections and tonight their archive of mesmerising visuals is put to good use.
The next surprise is something new – a piece called ‘Tinsley Viaduct’ that will form part of Chris Watson’s next project ‘Inside the Circle of Fire’ based on field recordings made in this very city. Watson seems to be relishing the opportunity to engage with the music made after he left the group and rattling the venue walls with his synths. In a recent interview in The Wire he makes clear that there was no bad feeling, he remained a fan- Mal says the music was always informed by his DNA and so in some ways, Watson never left.
It would have been nice to hear them tackle more more of their earlier material – we get a stunning rendition of ‘Landslide’ from Red Mecca for instance but – that said, it is also an utter delight to hear them play ‘Easy Life’ – a key track from a somewhat underrated period when the Cabs were collaborating with the same Chicago and Detroit Techno pioneers that they indirectly influenced. ‘Yashar’ also gets an airing – in a sort of hybrid between the band version on ‘2×45’ and the US electro remixes – the video footage of some very cool 80s Sheffield dancers and Richard and Mal running around the derelict Sheffield Victoria Station is the perfect visual setting and the club sound system is firing on all cylinders to prove that this is indeed music for the limbs as much as the mind.
They close with two songs, what else, ‘Nag Nag Nag’ – followed by ‘Sensoria’. The former is a an absolute monster – an electronic music masterwork up there with The Normal ‘Warm Leatherette’ or Soft Cell’s ‘Memorabilia’ (played by the DJ afterwards as a nice tribute to a recently departed Dave Ball) and given that supercharged garage rock electroid boost that thrilled us earlier in the set. ‘Sensoria’ is looser and more stretched out – and closes the set in tribute to the Sheffield arts and culture festival that has tipped the hat to CV and promoted the show tonight. (By the way – there is also a very progressive club and music venue tucked away off the main shopping centre in Sheffield called ‘Gut Level’ after a CV tune – another nice nod from the city and another very meaningful legacy – the Cabs are perhaps to Sheffield what the Hacienda was to Manchester)
CV have a few more dates on this tour and there is already a show at the Roundhouse in London booked 2026. This could be a one-off in Sheffield, and so tonight the fans gathered here from all over the world (I had some lovely chats with a few of ’em) and got a chance to experience Cabaret Voltaire, say thank you and be reminded of the ideas and possibilities and provocations they kicked off. This wasn’t a nostalgic event, it was an exercise in plugging CV back into the national grid just for a moment and letting them blow a few fuses again.
I first became aware of Milan W. (aka Milan Warmoeskerken) when the Flemish polymath was awarded 2024 album of the year by Manchester’s enigmatic Boomkat – an online record store that can be relied upon to sift out record releases that no algorithm on earth would put your way. They praised ‘Leave Another Day’ to the heavens and rightly so and I’m intrigued by the chance to hear this curious, immaculately crafted and otherworldly music performed in a basement.
Support comes from fellow Belgian, Tristanne who is quietly poised behind a keyboard – occasionally switching between flute and adding her own vocals. Like the headliner she’s worked in multiple genres too – including some quite strident, jazzy pop but tonight -performing solo – the focus is on drifting, dreamy ambience with lots of cinematic and orchesral colours which sets the mood just right.
There’s a respectable sized crowd by time Milan takes to the stage joined by a keyboard player and a seated, acoustic guitarist. The performance is entirely drawn from the ‘Leave Another Day’ record and what is remarkable is how this minimal setup can completely convey the hazy mood of that record. It’s a studious, focused performance – no great theatrics or stage patter – just excellent musicians playing with elegance and care. The interplay between the two guitarists is where the magic happens – weaving lush harmonics between them and filling the grotty Soup cellar with sonic cathedrals of sound particularly as the acoustic player flips between pkaying through an echo machine and a bit of frippertronics with a e-bow. It’s intricate and delicious. Musically I’m reminded of Les Disques Du Crepuscuile label of the early 80s particularly the likes of Antena, Tuxedomoon and Manchester’s own Durutti Column – and indeed a wondeful eveing provided by our Belgian Friends.
It does make me wonder what Milan W will move on to next, whether he’ll make more records in this mode or whether this was something of a one-off. If the latter, for all it’s rather low key atmosphere this was something to treasure.
I first encountered Bristol band Quade at one of Now Wave’s always excellent ‘Mood Swings’ new music showcases back in 2023. They were on early so I missed the start but was completely reeled in by the hushed and intense atmosphere they had created in the room. At the time they were promoting their debut record and had a tape deck playing a recording of the late Andy Weatherall being interviewed about his youth (the track ‘Circles’) being cut in and out of a righteous, post-rock racket. Right up my street. I made a vow to make sure I caught a full live set and here they are, headlining at The White Hotel – normally a venue for transgressive all night ravers that like to party til 7am but also doubles as a home for the more outré live music fayre before 11pm. Someone has laid out some tables and chairs and candles to create a Post-rock supper club vibe. Nice!
Support comes from local act Hedgehog. They’re quite something. They veer from hushed, delicate folk-infused lullabies, to tumbling free-improv craziness. At points they dissolve into Dadaist sound poetry that threatens to turn into student improv comedy and then back again – before some more heartfelt spoken word pieces and genuinely moving music. It’s a bit BBC2 1980 arts strand / anarchist theatre workshop – and I mean that as a compliment and – what could otherwise be a rather twee band name makes perfect sense. Hedgehog – of course. There are kids in Manchester making absurdist, freaky art music – hurrah!
Quade have a new record ‘The Foel Tower’ named after an isolated spot in mid-Wales where they made the record. It’s a more hushed, intense follow-up that dials down the rhythm and bass but is very much a cohesive statement and rather special. The stage is dimly lit and dry ice is pumping out every so often so, even though I’m stood close to the stage, it’s still oddly disorientating and perhaps is a good representation of the haunting landscape that informed the record.
I can see the musicians through the gloom and they alternate between guitars and occasional violins – and there’s a mixing desk on stage so they can add effects and dub things up a bit as well as play in the cassette tapes with some of the samples that underpin the songs. It’s that mix of very organic, occasionally acoustic instrumentation and subtle ambient undertow & occasionally dubby bass excursions that are the secret of Quade.
Musically the closest I can compare them to is post-rock titans like late period Talk Talk, Labradford and perhaps most of all, the legendary and long-lost Bark Psychosis. Like the latter, they have a knack for songs that have a languid, almost jazzy rhythmic feel but are somehow violently exhilarating at the same time. They can also get loud.
At the heart of the set is ‘Nannerth Ganol’ which is a strobe-light driven slow burn of gliding drones and heavenly violin underpinned by what sounds like an analogue synth pulse – and whisks us all into the world of the Foel Tower. It’s a very immersive performance and completely gripping from start to finish. Bleak, windswept alienation never sounded so appealing.
This is my first gig at the former (infamous) Old Mother Macs pub, now relaunched as The Rat and Pigeon. It’s still very much an old school backstreet boozer but with enough of a facelift to make it feel friendly enough and the youthful clientele challenge the myth that ‘ver kids’ don’t like clustering around a pub table for a chinwag, a bag of crisps and a pint of mild… these lot do.
Upstairs is a very small but well appointed gig venue, about the size of the back room of The Castle but with space for a corner bar and back room…and it has a sound and lighting rig powerful enough for a venue three times the size. Small enough for local artists and international bands taking their first steps on the circuit – and indeed tonight’s turn is French trio eat-girls (the lower case and hyphen is important apparently), over from Lyon for their first ever UK dates.
They start by donning those head-light things joggers wear to illuminate each member of the band and the audience – it’s a neat trick and straight away they grab your attention. The striking three piece Amélie, Elisa, and Maxence play keys, guitar and bass with everyone covering vocals – often the track drops away to them all singing in unison – their “electronic madrigals” as they put it. There’s no drummer but the backing track is punchy enough and the propulsive bass and guitars provides enough movement, spontaneity and energy to compensate for the relentless, pre-programmed beatbox.
I don’t want to resort to that old hackery of comparing these young artists to other, older bands but I’m going to anyway. There’s definitely an echo of early Stereolab in the taught rhythms, vocal rounds and a certain sense of utilitarian style. They draw from Post-Punk, particularly the clipped, economical tunesmithery of Wire, The Banshees and Joy Division at their most motorised. The organ drones and keyboards recall the dreamily European, cinematic swoon of Tuxedomoon or Marine.
But enough of the comparisons – eat-girls have plenty of ideas of their own with moody synth textures and atmospheric samples and dubby FX adding to a swirly miasma. You can dance to them too – and they inspire some serious frugging in the room among the pop-crazed youngsters as the room fills and warms up. They have a deft knack of veering from total seriousness, to bopping around with abandon- often during the same song.
I’m totally sold on these – easily one of the best new groups I’ve seen in a long time. Their mighty fine LP ‘Area Silenzio’ is out now and don’t miss the chance to see eat-girls.
I’m not the biggest fan of ‘Classic Album’ gigs. They can take the element of surprise and spontaneity out of show and, as is proved time and time again, what may be a perfectly sequenced album on record doesn’t always make a great night out. ‘Pure Phase’ is a curious choice for a live show and I’m intrigued to see what Jason Pierce and the current line up of musicians that comprise Spiritualized are going to do with it not least because in more recent years they’ve followed a more accessible path or, leaned into their most popular LP ‘Ladies & Gentlemen…’
I’ve always been fond of ‘Pure Phase’ but it’s not an easy listen for the innocent bystander. It’s long, and it’s an uneven mix of scuzzy space rock, electronic experiments, extended blasts of noise and gospel tinged bliss outs not to mention the title track – 6 minutes of gently undulating organ drone (which reoccurs throughout the album as a backdrop and used to be used at gigs as a call to the audience to get away from the bar and assemble, ready to begin)
Uncompromising, thrilling and perfectly out of step with the curdling of Britpop into Loaded Lad culture it was on heavy rotation on our hi-fi. I’m surprised to read it was seen as a commercial failure and Jason thinks it’s one of his most underappreciated records.
I saw the band a lot around the time of it’s release and quite a lot of tracks weren’t performed live or were very different from the album versions which Jason famously laboured over..obsessively mixing two masters (one for each ear) and meticulously working on his perfect edit.
Although other dates on this short tour have sold out, the idea of 2 hours of experimental, gospel-tinged swamp blues would seem to have somewhat selective appeal on a Monday night in Manchester and there are a fair few empty seats (the promoters charging 60-70 quid for seats closer to the front hasn’t helped and notably the cheap seats up in the gods are full) Last couple of times I saw the group they had a packed house and in fact were playing material from their more recent LPs. The audience seemed quite happy with those more song-based selections from ‘And Nothing Hurt’ and ‘Everything was Beautiful’ and there was very little looking back to the 90s – all the more surprising that Jason has chosen to go way back.
The musicians file on and it’s clear Jason hasn’t skimped on hiring plenty of musicians to recreate this complex record – we’ve got a brass section and a string section as well as two backing vocalists joining the core band line-up. Jason walks on and gives his customary wave (a man of few words on stage) and – this is a big deal for long term fans, he’s decided to do this one standing up (rather than perched on a stool JJ Cale style). The Spaceman means business.
The full band are put to good use and I’m immediately struck by little details – the intro to ‘Medication’ reveals the Brian Wilson influence Jason used to talk about in interviews and echoes California Girls or something from Pet Sounds – complete with odd little percussive elements before the full band crash in for the choruses with brass and strings to the fore. ‘The Slide Song’ – never played before (AFAIK) comes to life next with the brass and string elements revealing the song that was one of those most misted up by the swirling, disorientating mix on the record.
They’ve decided to do the whole album in the recorded sequence which means they recreate the wall of noise that is ‘Electric Phase’ most effectively – this gets a big cheer (Spiritualized fans love a bit of a noise freak out and there are plenty more of those to come). ‘These Blues’ with duelling harmonicas by Jason and Doggen is perhaps the first big ‘banger’ of the night. ‘Take Good Care of It’ was already in their early 90s set in a much more traditional form that would have fitted on their debut album but the Pure Phase version was a startlingly different track – a big floating cloud of gliding sax, organs and a vaguely dubby bassline – and amazingly it is this version that they somehow manage to recreate live.
I get the sense that this is the kind of gig Jason has always wanted to do – lots of improvisation – horns blasting, trumpet solos, beautiful strings, belting gospel harmony vocals, keyboard and piano veering into free jazz at times rather than 3 chord riffs – he’s still standing up and I can imagine that behind the shades he is really enjoying himself up there.
The centrepiece of the set is a cover of Laurie Anderson’s ‘Born Never Asked’ segued into ‘Electric Mainline’ and this time they do veer off the rather underwhelming album version and go for a full Kosmiche rhythm driven version with countermelodies spiralling around the venue. This is followed by the euphoric ‘Lay Back in the Sun’ and ‘Good Times’ – perhaps the lightest and most song-based tracks in the set that for any other band would be staples of any gig but I can’t remember the last time I heard these played live.
They spare us the full 6 minutes of Pure Phase on a loop but they let enough of it play out to say it was on the setlist and the final straight is two big, soulful ballads that close the LP. The Beach Boys influence reveals itself again in the intro to Feels Like Going home which with Pet Sounds percussion and – a Banjo! I hadn’t realised that was on the record but sure enough – there it is and it sounds wonderful – and with the brass section I’m struck by the idea that Spiritualized have all the equipment required to knock out a couple of Dexys numbers if they chose to Too Rye Aye it up a bit – and then come to my senses.
They get a well deserved standing ovation and encore – for which they pull out a song from the aforementioned ‘Ladies and Gentlemen’ and it’s a mightily powerful ‘Cop Shoot Cop’ – all 15 minutes of it – going deep into a Dr John swampy groove which seems to have everyone hanging on to every note and a chance for all the musicians and singers to have one final blast.
So it was a good idea to play Pure Phase. This isn’t really an exercise in nostalgia, rather we get to hear new life breathed into an old record and freed from the obsessive detail of the studio mix it’s quite spectacular. I’ve read that Jason wants to do more of these shows and hope he does because more people need to hear the record like this – it’d make a great live LP too.
I see a fair few people carrying copies of the LP home into the night and hopefully they’ll discover Pure Phase for the first time or do it all over again.
Back in my favourite basement which, once again has been transformed into a sonic cathedral by some adventurous artists
First up, a nice surprise. Simon Scott, who by day is the drummer with Slowdive – now well into their remarkably successful 2nd act – but is also well established as an artist in his own right with a dizzying array of musical projects and soundtracks to his name. Tonight he performs as Three Quarter Skies who have a new record ‘Fade In’ to play to us. Shoegazers will be in familiar sonic territory however this is a much looser and more lo-fi proposition than Slowdive – Simon fronts a 3 piece band singing and playing guitar and electronics and he’s joined by a simpatico guitarist and drummer who whip up great billowing clouds of noise that reminds of those more exploratory groups in this field like The Telescopes, Spacemen 3 and also the fragile songwriting of the mythical Flying Saucer Attack. It’s loud, enveloping and rather marvellous.
This is my 2nd time seeing Dummy, who headlined a ‘Mood Swings’ band night in this very venue a couple of years ago and I was very much taken with them and the many musical boxes they ticked with me. They’re back over from LA and getting toward the end of a pretty extensive few weeks schlepping around Europe and beyond. It’s fair to say they look completely knackered – but this doesn’t stop them putting in a brilliantly powerful and idiosyncratic performance – and like the Portishead album they borrowed their band name off – it’s hard to predict the musical ebb and flow they take us on.
Everyone has keyboards as well as guitars and drums so one minute we get Brian Eno style, ambient interludes and the next minute we’re into My Bloody Valentine guitar bending freakouts, the electro-glide of Curve or the metronomic locked grooves of early Stereolab, Broadcast or Yo La Tengo. On songs like ‘Unshaped Road’ they show that 90s Trip Hop influence as a sweet pop vocal rides over a killer bass riff that could be from Massive Attack. That’s not to say they are derivative or slavishly copying those artists – they have a unique style of their own and they knit a lot of different moods and sounds together and somehow make it all coherent – their track Blue Dada is a good example – it starts very much in that early 90s Too Pure era Stereolab Groop Groove but takes on a strange little life of it’s own and its that sense of surprise in the choice of melody and dynamics that sets Dummy apart.
https://youtu.be/_w8942xcHY4?si=ZQbvcSmusYLmyS9T
Tonight suggests that Dummy, as good as their records are, are a band that really need to be seen live to really get what they’re about – so if this hard working band come to your town don’t pass up the chance to see them bring the noise.
I first saw Seefeel 30 odd years ago supporting Cocteau Twins and was immediately grabbed by the fact that while they presented as a traditional 4 piece guitar band, they didn’t sound like a ‘beat combo’ at all – swirling, looped sounds, distant vocals mangled so the line between voice and synthesised sound becomes blurred, and great thwacking bass (memorably played by Darren Seymour – twirling it around his head like it was a majorettes baton). Truly in a class of their own and I’ve been an avid fan ever since.
The band have returned, sporadically over the years, and got some critical reappraisal recently with the material they recorded for Warp records being reissued as an excellent box set complete with a wodge of unreleased gems that – unlike a lot of ‘extra tracks’ are well worth your attention. Seemingly out of nowhere, a new mini-LP ‘dropped’ earlier this year on Warp. ‘Everything Squared’ is delicious and bridges the gap between the billowing clouds of looped guitar and sub-bass of their earlier stuff and the spartan, icy plains of their mid-period work.
A gig by these is a rare thing indeed and with no danger of a moshpit I get down the front for the full arsequake bass experience and perhaps to try and figure out how Seefeel works. They’re down to a 3 piece tonight with core members Sarah Peacock and Mark Clifford joined by a bass player (I didn’t catch his name and this reviewer thought it was a returning Seymour?) and while the bass stays firmly below head height you could lie down and take a nap on the colossal subsonic waves coming off the stage.
The set opens with ‘Climatic Phase’ from their debut ‘Quique’ and it is one of those goose-bump moments as they gradually build the track up from looping samples, fragments of vocal and guitar building toward the dub bass and everything locks in. They still sound like nobody else. The set mixes those early Too Pure tracks with a selection from the new record and you can’t see the join. It’s a privilege to watch them at work, up close – and it’s not as if we’re seeing behind the curtain as I’m none the wiser how they make a few FX pedals, some guitars, a laptop and some singing sound so other-worldly.
It’s a relatively short set but warmly received by a very attentive audience of old heads and few curious pop-crazed youngsters who hopefully leave inspired like I was 30 years hence. Leave ’em wanting more I guess, and we do. Their is talk of a new full length LP and apparently Mark Clifford only puts out a fraction of the material he records so hopefully I will have my atoms rearranged by Seefeel again before too long. Majestic.
While sensible people are staying home with the immersion on, I’m braving the sub-zero ice and snow ‘cos Immersion are on.
Last time I saw Colin Newman on a stage he was fronting his day-job band, Wire, at Band on the Wall just before Covid curtailed their touring plans in 2020. With the band now seemingly on hiatus (check out Matthew Simm’s Memorials and Graham Lewis’ latest – both mighty fine ) Colin and his partner, musician and artist Malka Spigel have been keeping very busy with a weekly radio show and reviving Immersion which started 30(!) years ago as a way of exploring the duo’s fascination for club music and electronica. I saw them play a mesmerising set at Wire’s ‘retrospective’ comeback at the Royal Festival Hall in 2000 (we only have this excerpt:)
– and tonight’s set up is very similar – a bank of electronics and the duo silhouetted against a video projection except tonight, they are facing the audience. There are songs too, with vocals from both and Colin occasionally reaches for a guitar and Malka is bashing away at a Korg synthesiser with considerable gusto – so although the austerity budget didn’t stretch to bringing a live drummer over for the tour, it makes this feel like a gig you can engage in rather watching some laptop jamming.
There are familiar, signature drones which remind you of their initial incarnation and the downright essential ambient classic ‘Low Impact’ but Immersion has morphed into something more open-ended and actually very danceable – there are beats galore and trouser-flapping bass as well as some very enjoyable detours into kosmiche musik and Dreampop (if we need to get into genres).
There is an airy, almost new-age positivity about Immersion which might sound a bit flowery in less talented hands but with two of the coolest musicians on the planet in charge who know of what they sing/speak, it works and the audience response reflects this right back – all smiles. The audience is a mix of people of a certain age but also curious younger folk who are enjoying the hefty basslines and beats these two, ridiculously youthful 70 year olds are firing off and we’re all moving with them. Immersion are bringing their sound and art to your town – go and see them!
