We’re back on a (yeah yeah) industrial estate in Salford for the 2nd time in the past week on a particularly rain-lashed mid week night. Hotline TNT are here, all the way from New York City and something tells me I’m into something good. They’re a few albums in but their new one ‘Raspberry Moon’ grabbed my attention. It is billed as ‘New American Shoegaze’ but what I’m hearing is more aligned to the grungey but sunnyside-up sounds that were adjacent in the imperial 89-92 era – the likes of Teenage Fanclub, Dinosaur JR… think Swervedriver rather than Slowdive. Big guitar sounds, big songs.
Ver’ Hotline are hard gigging band who have earned their stripes around the US and beyond, and as soon as they strike up their set it shows. Unlike some current bands in their ‘milieu’ they aren’t afraid to crank it up and let rip. There’s a lot to be said for confidence and a bit of swagger, you can feel the relief – nobody’s going to have a wobble if they break a string or fluff a note – they’re going for it. There’s no great experimentation going on, but that’s fine because they’ve got some great songs, a deft way with a build up, a drummer who can swing from metronomic to Who-esque fills and a load of bounce. Not that this is meat & taters grunge rock either, underneath the energetic fireworks there is a precision and craft and they have a way with melody – check ‘Lawnmower’ or ‘Dance the Night Away’ off the the new LP you’ll see what I mean.
Such is the confidence and ease with which they entertain us I start to wonder if they’re one of those bands that might go past the 2 hour mark and ‘do a Yo La Tengo’ – but in fact it’s a short, sharp set and after 45 mins they’re off – quick blast through 2 encores and away. Perfectly pitched, heart-warming and downright fun.
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.
A double bill to thrill tonight in the bestest of basements. Montreal’s No Joy are back in town after a long 8 year gap, but first up is local artist Crimewave.
There’s only one person on stage, sporting a red beret, literally a one-man Crimewave. I’m immediately struck by the trouser-flapping bass and the term that springs to mind is one David Stubbs penned in the Melody Maker back in the late 80s – Arsequake. Great concrete slabs of guitar, vocals all glassy with a touch of fx to ramp up the hysteria underpinned by whopping great old-skool breakbeats, bass bin bothering low end and snares that’ll give you a flat-top if you venture too close. I am reminded of Meat Beat Manifesto or early Nine Inch Nails when they were at that intersection between Industrial metal and Bomb Squad beats. This is a very good thing . There’s also that deft use of samples, noise and unexpected FX that recalls the post rock/illbient likes of Techno Animal or Disco Inferno and indeed the former’s Kevin Martin would be proud of the low frequency depth charge.
Not to say Crimewave are reheating the past, and indeed I’ve no idea if he has any of these reference points – the rhythm track is subjected to all sorts of 21st century glitches and knots as Crimewave alternates between slamming his guitar and misusing the sampler. He even lobs in a brief de/construction of Slowdive’s ‘When The Sun Hits’ to keep the shoegazers amused. Check out new track ‘Semaphore’ – I want to hear more of this and I’m looking forward to the debut Lp ‘Scenes’. Keep your ears alight for that one.
We can probably call No Joy shoegaze veterans by now. 15 years in and they have already had a 10th anniversary reissue of ‘Wait to Pleasure’ to celebrate, but more importantly have a new LP ‘Bugland’ to promote. Jasamine White-Gluz is the sole original member, and in spite of there being a long gap since she last performed in Manchester there is still an enthusiastic capacity crowd to welcome her back. It probably doesn’t hurt that shoegaze is no longer a slight, but a subculture in itself with a multi-generational appeal and many new artists like Deary, Nightswimming and Cruuush taking a cue from No Joy as much as My Bloody Valentine or Slowdive.
Accompanied by excellent guitarist Garland Hastings and rhythmic powerhouse Michael Farsky, they tear into a sparkling set which deftly mixes electronica, swooning synths, ethereal vocals and the all important sheets of exploding feedback guitars. The vocals threaten to get lost in the reverb and delay but once you adjust to the volume it sits just right. The set is 50/50 new to old but the crowd have done their homework, and tunes from ‘Bugland’ are welcomed as favourites already. As ever there is a shiny, pop edge to the songs and the mix of saturated noise and sweet harmony is ever-present. What more do you want?
They close with a good old fashioned lurching riff in the shape of of ‘E’ from ‘Wait to Pleasure’ that could have happily gone around a few more bars, and leave us wanting more. Go and catch them on this short tour if you can….
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.
The silly season is coming to and end and darker nights means back rooms and basements are coming alive with music once again. Autumn 2025 kicks off with a double bill of encouragingly strange new sounds.
First up is Flip Top Head from Brighton. They’re a 6 piece, crammed onto the small stage with keyboards, violin and guitars plus a deputising bassist drafted in having only rehearsed earlier that day not that you’d know it, such is the confidence with which the songs are attacked.
There’s no obvious focal point – singer Bowie Bartlett (nominative determinism alert) is tucked away behind the PA but has an excellent, soaring voice as a counterpoint to the other singer Bertie who leans into the dreaded ‘Sprechgesang’ spoken word thing but not to the point where we’re looking at another Sleaford Yard Cleaners D.C. – far from it.
The mix of soaraway and spoken is just right and musically things are an enjoyably disorientating mix of jazzy, folky, avant rock but with plenty of musical anchors and hooks to keep you interested. I like ’em.
Headlining tonight are Dog Race. Early days for them but it’s a sell out show and there’s a definite buzz in the air. The band file on – I’m still getting used to the fact that Paul Calf moustaches, mullets and clobber last seen on Limahl from Kajagoogoo in 1983 are in vogue again but preferable to Library-hater Liam Gallagher and his fucking designer anorak gurning at me from billboards. Unlike the support, Dog Race have a very definite focal point in singer Katie Healy. Her voice, rising from deep and guttural, to screamy to an almost operatic warble is quite something. I hear a hint of Billy Mackenzie, Anohni/Anthony, and maybe going way back Lene Lovich. It lifts Dog Race sky high above the standard 2025 Indie competition – and although Healy is not exactly throwing shapes she puts in a completely gripping performance.
Musically things are more conventional – bass driven, synth and guitar. The Cure, Joy Division, Soft Cell, Bauhaus…so far, so 4AD. The vocals take us to some uncanny spaces and the music needs to follow it – and sure enough there is an unnamed new song – written days earlier – where the band hang back and Healy plays solo on keys and we can hear the unconventional intonation and tone she can conjur up before she steps away and things explode. There’s something happening here. Quietly charismatic, unsettling and wonderfully gothic but in a very 2025 way rather than a retro 80s way – and there is some serious frugging and grooving going on in the audience.
The thing about being a Cardiacs fan is there are all sorts of curious leads to follow in their wider, cinematic universe of associated bands and offshoots – each with some connection (literal or spiritual) to the late great Tim Smith. Not far upstream I find the amazing North Sea Radio Orchestra. Formed by Cardiacs alumnus Craig Fortnam, the NSRO are described as a “contemporary music ensemble and cross-disciplinary chamber orchestra (plus chorus)” and have already clocked up 20 odd years of dizzyingly accomplished work before johnny-come-lately here caught up with them.
Fortunately for me a mysterious promotion outfit located over Snake Pass from me – going by the name of Buds and Spawn are also immersed in all things Cardiacs and beyond and are dedicated to presenting ‘semi irregular nights of semi-irregular music’. They have managed to get the entire NSRO – 10 piece ensemble with woodwind, strings and archaic organ – up from down south to Sheffield to perform in a lovely little theatre tucked away in the University corner. This is their only show outside London on this current round of performances to promote the new LP ‘Special Powers’.
It’s a 5.30 start – perhaps to give time to get the ensemble back home before the witching hour. The early start, and the cosy theatre venue sets the scene nicely – the atmosphere is hushed and studious with none of the distractions of a typical ‘gig’ (nobody chatting or getting beery) – this is music to get immersed in – so let’s get into it.
First up is another Cardiac, William D Drake and quite rightly everyone is here already to catch his performance. No missing the support act who is well known to a large proportion of the audience. William performs on piano with assistance from NSRO keyboard player James Larcombe alternating between two different Hurdy Gurdys (what else). Drake (a distant relative of yer actual Nick Drake) plays a set that leans stylistically into early music, madrigals and goes deep into a folky undergrowth. So far, so mediaeval and those unmistakable twisty-turny chords and strangely arcane melodies sound both ancient and modern. What a way to begin!
NSRO take to the stage – 10 strong with violin, Cello, woodwind of various denominations, drums, keys, bass and vocalists -all led by Craig who for the most part sports an acoustic guitar which he uses in place of a conductors baton to lead the players and singers- and I’m really struck by how he plays- picking the elaborate songs out and often forming the bedrock of the music (much like Sean O’Hagan when High Llamas play live) and occasionally getting into a hypnotic strum as if he was just busking these remarkable pieces of music.
It feels ‘classical’ – the musicians are reading from sheet music, playing these carefully arranged songs – sitting quietly or eyes closed when they are not required for a particular piece – but it’s not staid or stuffy – and I really like the fact this is kind of a art-rock gig in disguise really (notably Craig almost forgets to give the band – sorry – orchestra a proper conductorly flourish to start the first piece).
They start by playing the new album in full – with a knowing apology – but it’s excellent anyway and there is plenty of time for a sublime selection from the NSRO catalogue including ‘Heavy Weather’ and a fitting tribute to Tim Smith ‘Morpheus Miracle Maker’. The encores include a track from Craig’s solo LP ‘Ark’ which is a highlight and sends me off into his solo catalogue – another Cardiacs tributary to float my musical barge down.
Cardiacs aren’t the only reference point – a lot of what NSRO do hits that sweet spot of British art-rock / ROI (Rock in Opposition) and the Canterbury scene of the 1970s – so Henry Cow, Robert Wyatt, Soft Machine, Caravan as well as Syd Barrett.
A joyous, intriguing evening – and hats off to Buds & Spawn for bringing this amazing music to Steel City
Dreams can come true. Many years ago Factory Floor, never a band shy about revealing their influences, wrote a letter addressed to ‘Stephen Morris – Macclesfield’ with some demo CDs enclosed. Luckily, like when kids write to Santa c/o Lapland it reached the right letterbox and the stereo of the wry New Order drummer who recognised an energy and propulsive drive familiar to his own early synth experiments. Morris promptly offered to remix them, and FF would soon be sharing a stage with Steve, Gillian and Bernard. Nik Void would have similar success hooking up with the enigmatic Chris & Cosey of Throbbing Gristle and sultry electro-pop fame resulting in a stellar series of collaborations.
There was a major buzz around FF back in 2010 and I saw a few live performances most memorably a near upstaging support slot with Wire (courtesy of The Quietus). They never failed to mesmerise live – but perhaps on record didn’t always ignite the imagination. In my opinion they leaned a little too much into the New York Post-Punk Party groove rather than the ultra sleek electro of their early singles. More DFA than DAF you might say.
Cue auspicious solo careers for both Nik (working with Klara Lewis and the late Peter Rehberg) and Gabe Guernsey (solo works and remixes for Depeche Mode etc) but 7 years on the draw of dusting down the modular synths and the drum set was too much and here they are now…a mere 45 mins later than advertised (we’re on ‘White Hotel time’ tonight).
They may have been in absentia but there is a room full of minimal groovers delighted to welcome them back. They are sans original third ‘Floor’ Dom Butler but with percussionist and knob twiddler Joe Ward adding some extra beats and pieces there’s plenty of action on stage. From the first synth throb, heads are nodding and feet are moving as much as they can in the cramped space and it strikes me that there’s no better place for this comeback than on yer actual industrial floor in a suitably grimy setting. This music needs volume and is perfect for the ‘orrible Hotel’s secret weapon – their monumental sound system.
On a superficial level, FF’s music is inordinately simple. Two note basslines, treated vocals, acid squelches, metronomic drumming and the odd cowbell. It’s quite telling though how many bits of synthesis and wiring are required to get that seemingly basic sound – with FF it’s all in the tiny details – tweaks, bursts of static and ghost sounds – and when Gabe becomes the human beatbox and it all clicks in nobody can touch ’em. Highlight of the set is new single ‘Between You’ – as close as FF have to a shiny pop song with a nod toward Underworld at their most sprightly.
FF are on just shy of an hour which flashes by in the beat of a strobe light. Notably the crowd are a mix of hip young dancers and a few veterans of New Order & The Fall gigs – hip Salford clubland meets The Vikings – and tellingly there’s a little singalong at the end as the DJ cues up Echo & The Bunnymen which reminds me of the crossover appeal of Factory Floor. For all their experimental edge and obfuscated vocals they’re a great electro pop band at heart. They recall the great lost Factory band Section 25, and perhaps Gerald Simpson’s early acid experiments.
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.
