This review first appeared on Soundblab
The Middle East have got something brewing. Their only release to date has been The Recordings of The Middle East, a five track EP. Yet in tonight's hour-long set the Australians from Townsville play only two songs from it, preferring to spend their sold out New York headline show testing a series of tracks that will undoubtedly grace their first full-length release.
It's a shame, because the best moments come from the two released tracks, particularly set opener The Darkest Side. Taking to the stage, the band fiddle around for what seems forever. The crowd get restless, talking and turning away from the stage. But then Jordan Ireland starts plucking out the opening chords and begins his alto timbre, stopping only to request more light from his stage crew. "We asked for low light," he jokes. "But I can't see a thing." The interruption only heightens the mood, and Bree Tranter soon adds her delicate mumblings. A hush sweeps over the crowd. These two can sing.
After that, though, it gets a bit chaotic. The seven bodies pit mandolins, microphones and macbook pros against banjos, basses and beats. Trumpets and flutes jump in and out of action and a glockenspiel and accordion get some time in the limelight. It's eventful, certainly, but in this little venue it all seems a bit much. The music loses its momentum, and save for the instances when all five microphones are put to good use, the sound is unfortunately loose.
A large part of this is surely due to the extensive touring the band has undertaken in the past couple of months. This latest leg is in support of shows with Mumford & Sons, and although the Englishmen show their support from the crowd, you get the feeling the stage is not the place for these talented Australian folkies right now. There's just too much they're itching to lay down in the studio, and a bit of recording time never hurt anyone.
Wednesday 9 June 2010
Thursday 3 June 2010
Lovely new tune from the Mynabirds 'Numbers Don't Lie'
I heard this sweet tune on the radio. I thought something along the lines of 'oh yes, lovely old soul tune... quite Motowny'. But, now, poisoned by the truth of knowledge as I am now, I know it's a new un, from a band I never heard of before, The Mynabirds. It's very good. I hope you like.
Update: now, a couple of not particularly generous reviews on the the internet, more specifically the guardian and Pitchfork, have just told me that Mynabirds is 'just a vehicle for white-soul girl Laura Burhenn (formerly of Washington, DC indie obscurities Georgie James) to achieve her ambition to "make a record that sounds like Neil Young doing Motown"', while the latter (who graded her album 8.0 out of ten), declare that while 'the notion of the co-lead singer of Georgie James teaming up with a guy that described his last album as "Prince sitting in on John Lennon's Plastic Ono sessions" might not be the sort of crossover that sounds all that appealing', they acknowledge that 'one listen to "Numbers Don't Lie", and even the most devout skeptic could find themselves singing a different tune.' Nice of them, ne?
Anyways, like, here's the vid.
Saturday 24 April 2010
Friday 23 April 2010
Bear in Heaven @ The Lexington - 20 April 2010
I fear for my beloved instrument. In the hey days of punk, grunge, or any rock n roll, the bass was the lynchpin of the band. You couldn’t put a price on someone who could pump out a deep groove for the rest to build themselves around. I get the faint sniff that nowadays it’s becoming a peripheral instrument. More and more, I’ll go and watch a band and see the bass passed around guitarists and keyboardists like an unwanted child of a divorced family at Christmas. The result is more often than not a show that lacks any real grunt.
It was no more evident than tonight at the Lexington. Bear in Heaven, who hail from Brooklyn but spent the last 50 hours trying to negotiate a flight ban into the UK, are an act for the noughties – plenty of synths, plenty of fast beats, plenty of high-pitched vocals. Don’t get me wrong, they show incredible potential. I don’t profess to be hugely au fait with them, but I was taken with a number of their tunes tonight. They create great energy, and know the right moments to break down the beats.
But one thing in particular bugged me: neither guitarist nor vocalist seemed to really know how to get the most out of the bass. The lines they played were fine – even impressive – but being guitarists at heart they didn’t move away from the close frets at the higher end. They were reticent to walk their fingers down the neck to find the real impact of the instrument. At times, it was even discarded altogether.
The result was a show that lacked a pulse. It seemed there was nothing gluing the three of them together, no grunt to really drive the building crescendos home. My ears hurt from the abundance of treble that even the drums seemed to contribute to.
It’s a problem easily fixed. The beauty of a great bassist is that they don’t garner the attention of the crowd in the way a front man does. You can sit them in the corner and they know their job is to look after the basics. Bear in Heaven would benefit hugely from the services of a four-stringed specialist.
It was no more evident than tonight at the Lexington. Bear in Heaven, who hail from Brooklyn but spent the last 50 hours trying to negotiate a flight ban into the UK, are an act for the noughties – plenty of synths, plenty of fast beats, plenty of high-pitched vocals. Don’t get me wrong, they show incredible potential. I don’t profess to be hugely au fait with them, but I was taken with a number of their tunes tonight. They create great energy, and know the right moments to break down the beats.
But one thing in particular bugged me: neither guitarist nor vocalist seemed to really know how to get the most out of the bass. The lines they played were fine – even impressive – but being guitarists at heart they didn’t move away from the close frets at the higher end. They were reticent to walk their fingers down the neck to find the real impact of the instrument. At times, it was even discarded altogether.
The result was a show that lacked a pulse. It seemed there was nothing gluing the three of them together, no grunt to really drive the building crescendos home. My ears hurt from the abundance of treble that even the drums seemed to contribute to.
It’s a problem easily fixed. The beauty of a great bassist is that they don’t garner the attention of the crowd in the way a front man does. You can sit them in the corner and they know their job is to look after the basics. Bear in Heaven would benefit hugely from the services of a four-stringed specialist.
Thursday 22 April 2010
Tuesday 20 April 2010
Thursday 8 April 2010
Why make sharing music a crime?
When I like an album, the first thing I do is check when they’re touring and get tickets. I then put it on the stereo at work, sharing it with colleagues and encouraging them to come to the show with me. If I think it’s really something, it’ll find its way onto this blog and get read by a pretty hefty number.
The fact is that my acquiring an album for free results in significantly more income for the artist – providing they’re good enough. Everyone knows that word-of-mouth is the most effective form of advertising. Essentially, that’s all file sharing is. With the introduction of the Digital Britain Bill, all that is over. We're being transported back to a time when record companies and radio stations controlled the amount of new music that you could hear through selective playlists and discriminative pricing. Couple this with the planned closure of one of the few remaining bastions of new music, Radio 6, and we're left with a fairly bleak musical future.
An age-old practice
We’ve been sharing music for decades, through mix-tapes, copied cds and now file sharing. It’s natural to want to tell others about things you love. It’s a catalyst for life-long friendships and blossoming relationships. If we lose the ability to share music, we lose the ability to enjoy with others one of life’s most sacred pleasures.
The ongoing war between artists, record companies, and fans over file sharing misses a key fact: that the music industry is still trying to make money in the same way it did 60 years ago, ignoring the dawn of a new technological era.
By targeting file sharers, the industry is criminalising people who are simply looking to share their love of music.
A 14-year-old boy courting the affections of a special girl through special songs is not a criminal.
A university student in a dictatorial country looking for a voice from the free world is not a criminal.
A twenty-something blogger promoting the music he loves is not a criminal.
Who's fault is it anyway?
The scale of civil disobedience that goes on through file sharing does not reflect a problem with society, but rather a problem with the music industry. It’s a sector that continues to pursue an archaic form of product distribution that hasn’t evolved as its customers developed and embraced technology. It’s utterly reprehensible that we are targeted for the failing of an industry to move with the times. Don’t blame the innovators, blame those with no impulse to change.
The music industry’s business model no longer works. That much is clear. Yet some of the most creative and entrepreneurial minds in the world are at the head of organisations that give us the soundtracks to our lives. Are you telling me they can't develop a new business model that is as innovative as fans were in developing new ways to capture new music?
No-one wants the industry to die, yet its demise is what fans are accused of causing. Other industries have survived customer revolts by being dynamic and adaptable. It’s time the music industry was the same.
The fact is that my acquiring an album for free results in significantly more income for the artist – providing they’re good enough. Everyone knows that word-of-mouth is the most effective form of advertising. Essentially, that’s all file sharing is. With the introduction of the Digital Britain Bill, all that is over. We're being transported back to a time when record companies and radio stations controlled the amount of new music that you could hear through selective playlists and discriminative pricing. Couple this with the planned closure of one of the few remaining bastions of new music, Radio 6, and we're left with a fairly bleak musical future.
An age-old practice
We’ve been sharing music for decades, through mix-tapes, copied cds and now file sharing. It’s natural to want to tell others about things you love. It’s a catalyst for life-long friendships and blossoming relationships. If we lose the ability to share music, we lose the ability to enjoy with others one of life’s most sacred pleasures.
The ongoing war between artists, record companies, and fans over file sharing misses a key fact: that the music industry is still trying to make money in the same way it did 60 years ago, ignoring the dawn of a new technological era.
By targeting file sharers, the industry is criminalising people who are simply looking to share their love of music.
A 14-year-old boy courting the affections of a special girl through special songs is not a criminal.
A university student in a dictatorial country looking for a voice from the free world is not a criminal.
A twenty-something blogger promoting the music he loves is not a criminal.
Who's fault is it anyway?
The scale of civil disobedience that goes on through file sharing does not reflect a problem with society, but rather a problem with the music industry. It’s a sector that continues to pursue an archaic form of product distribution that hasn’t evolved as its customers developed and embraced technology. It’s utterly reprehensible that we are targeted for the failing of an industry to move with the times. Don’t blame the innovators, blame those with no impulse to change.
The music industry’s business model no longer works. That much is clear. Yet some of the most creative and entrepreneurial minds in the world are at the head of organisations that give us the soundtracks to our lives. Are you telling me they can't develop a new business model that is as innovative as fans were in developing new ways to capture new music?
No-one wants the industry to die, yet its demise is what fans are accused of causing. Other industries have survived customer revolts by being dynamic and adaptable. It’s time the music industry was the same.
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