The stage was bare apart from a comfy sofa and a standard lamp, and she was accompanied for most of the evening by her son Gabriel Harris on percussion and the talented Dirk Powell on mandolin, accordion and just about everything else.

The atmosphere was relaxed and the songs were a mixture of old favourites and the not so old – Farewell Angelina, God On Our Side, House of the Rising Sun, and Diamonds and Rust, a reference to her relationship with Bob Dylan. We also got John Lennon’s Imagine and Donovan’s Catch the Wind, and the evening finished with The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down and Blowin’ in the Wind. Her voice is still haunting although she avoids many of the high notes now, and I did think that the tempo of some of the songs (particularly House of the Rising Sun) was a bit slower than it used to be. But she can certainly still sing. And she still believes in what she sings.

We went home happy, and although the singer is still a protester I wondered how many of the audience still are?!

The performance got off to the best possible start with the rousing traditional "Bonny Bunch Of Roses" modified to blend folk diva Tabor's smooth and melodious voice with the stomping backing of the Oysterband. However it was not all folk based music as they worked their way through PJ Harvey’s "That Was My Veil", Dylan’s "Seven Curses", Joy Division’s "Love Will Tear Us Apart" and an excellent duet between Tabor and John Jones of the soul classic "Dark End of the Street". The finishing number was the powerfully delivered Jefferson Airplane 60’s classic "White Rabbit".

On the 8th February, the artists scooped four awards at the BBC Radio 2 Folk Awards, including Best Singer, Best Group and Best Album (Ragged Kingdom), making our attendance very timely.

The support acts for the evening were provided by talented and gimmick free English folk trio "Pilgrim’s Way", and singer guitarist Sean Taylor.

The Scorpions are a group of musician/composers – several of whom regularly perform at the Globe Theatre - who sing and play unamplified music using a wide variety of historical instruments. However, amplification was hardly necessary with the full BSO behind them and they produced a varied and very enjoyable selection of music and verse. Highlights were Sans Day Carol and the Dorset Mummers’ Play whilst the BSO excelled with Warlock’s Bethlehem Down and Vaughan Williams’ English Folksong Suite.

This conceptual concert started at the Lighthouse in 2010 and returned by popular request, whilst now also expanding to a tour with new venues in Bristol and Portsmouth. Look out for further expansion in the years ahead.

This was the 6th night of a 25 date British tour that ends 18th November. The band retains a traditional line up of Rocky Athas - lead guitar, Greg Rzab - bass guitar, Jay Davenport - drums. Remarkably, Mayall did all the vocals, played keyboard and/or harmonica on all numbers apart from one, when he played guitar - not bad for a 77 year old!

The programme consisted of many standard rhythm and blues pieces, which were all played at a high technical level with a lot of feeling. Particularly memorable were “All Your Love” and “Parchment Farm” from the Blues Breakers (the Beano) Album.

Supporting act was from the Oli Brown Band.

Possibly slightly more truncated in length than previous shows and light on Tweedy-stand-up, it was still plenty for my ageing body support system - and with another show tomorrow probably drawing back many of the beard-heavy crowd no-one is likely to be complaining.

Never, ever disappointing. Set list over at Wilco World.

The casual country tinge of BFB has given way to a more focused sound, coupled with great production. There's a more soulful edge to the delivery here too, though have no fear - the same charmingly-delivered-but-downbeat lyrics are still here, giving David Gedge a run for his money both in the lyrics-about-break-ups stakes and even with the furious guitar workouts that highlight many of the best tracks.

Good to have you back. Welcome home losers.

While heroes don't come much cooler than Raylan Givens, he's frequently given a run for his money by Good/Bad guy Boyd Crowther. It's a typecast-breaking performance from ex-crony-on-The-Shield Walton Goggins, who plays the flip-side of Givens perfectly - trying his best to stay out of trouble, but just not being able to resist it. The most likeable TV criminal since Stringer Bell.

Despite the opposing fortunes, lifestyle envy also plays a big part here and while the reality of always being a dollar short might not quite hold the everlasting appeal of having a dollar too much, always knowing the hippest parties and being on first-name terms with every door man in town is something many of us would have loved 15 years ago. Slow motion mixes with flash frame photography and well chosen music to beautifully capture the gritty, exciting world of opportunity of both the Lower East Side and the just-graduated student mentality.

How To Make It In America has that quick-fix vibe that gets you high in 25 minutes and leaves you wanting more. Well-rounded episodes that fly by, but the season arc stays strong and is filled out well with multiple story strands (including a career-best performance from Luis Guzman and Rasta Monsta) all staying as strong as each other, while still building the bigger picture of the show's overall themes and agenda.

Great stuff. Should be back for season 2 later on in 2011.

Abe Vigoda - Crush
Probably my most unexpected favourite for 2010, Crush finds LA Smell regulars Abe Vigoda moving up a notch to make their most accessible album yet. If a band like this can ever hit the mainstream, this is certainly great prep - like Interpol with more ideas and better beats.

The Soft Pack - The Soft Pack
The San Diego post-punkers graduate from community college with straight A's in 'chorus'. After a lot of hype and a fairly average live sighting, I was surprised to find myself so engaged with this first album proper. Side A rules.

LCD Soundsystem - This Is Happening
The bubble may have burst as LCD Soundsystem set to disband, but there was still time for one last go-around. Not quite as ace as Sound of Silver, but with tracks like 'All I Want' and 'Home', it's still stuffed with classics.

Spoon - Transference
Harnessing all their studio 'accidents' into another masterfully produced masterpiece, Spoon yet again deliver a five star album. So consistent I almost forget about them. Some great slow burners on here.

Black Mountain - Wilderness Heart
Almost forgot this one ...which is a surprise considering how bombastic it is. After the note perfect In The Future, Black Mountain had no hope of topping getting even better just yet, but the least they could do was shore up their legend. Old Fangs and the title track cruised into their best-ever playlist.

DULY NOTED: Weezer - Hurley / Pinkerton Deluxe
With their departure from a major label, it seemed certain that Weezer would put aside all the contractually-obliging crap they're been churning out and finally release a great record again. Nope. Hurley crawled back up to a 3, but luckily the time had come for a deluxe edition of 90's classic Pinkerton. A re-release shouldn't be anyone's best album in a decade, but this one is stuffed full of long-lost tracks, b-sides and oddities - plus it's getting a five star rating for being overlooked the first time round.

Monsters was a great movie. Somewhere one of the worst ever. Kings of Leon, The National and Band of Horses all disappointed. Roll on 2011.

The numbers oscillated in a balanced way between jazz funk and lyrical anthems such as Beck’s Bolero and (amazingly) Nessun Dorma. Best of all was his acclaimed grammy winning version of A Day in The Life, where he recreates the varying moods of the piece through his brilliant playing. It was a little disappointing not to hear more work from his early blues-rock era, but this has clearly been superseded by works from his more recent albums.

The support act on the show was Trombone Shorty and Orleans Avenue. Shorty (Troy Andrews) plays not only trombone but is equally at home on trumpet and vocals with a mixture of jazz of all types. Virtuoso solos and a brilliant rhythm section made for an excellent opening act.

Like most biopics however, there's both an inevitability and a lack of tension to the narrative. At least with Titanic the inevitable conclusion involved the world's biggest ship hitting an iceberg and sinking. Unfortunately there's no iceberg here. Yawn.

Despite their repetitive schedule, the band are always in high spirits and tonight's show was littered with theatrics - from comedy introductions and explosive drum sections, to a bizarre, unexplained 80's keyboard cameo, to Jeff Tweedy's comparison between the Festival Hall and Star Wars' Galactic Senate.

The 40s+ post-Yankee Hotel Foxtrot haters were in force at the sit down venue, hanging out for Heavy Metal Drummer or a chance to hug their girlfriends when Jesus Etc was played ... which must put a strain on any band trying to move forward, but they were well satisfied with the YHF-heavy set. Personally, I wanted more from A Ghost Is Born....

While 2008's In The Future was a decade highlight for me, Wilderness Heart proves to be something of a departure from it's predecessor - eschewing that early 70's monolithic rock sound for something a little more modern. Circa 1978. Synths and keyboards litter the sound with hidden flourishes, while Amber Webber gets more time in the lime light on these concise, deceptively simple tracks.

Opener The Hair Song exudes a swaggering confidence, while Old Fangs is built around a riff worthy of AC/DC themselves. Empires are smashed, tempos are shifted and War of the Worlds-style synths rule in one of many mini epics on the album - where no tracks head far north of 5 minutes.

Rollercoaster dips before Webber's vocals soar. Let Spirits Ride takes the band on a freight train of their most thundering thrash to date, complete with electrifying guitar and keyboard solos. A calmness decends with the orchestral overtones of Buried by the Blues - but throughout the album Josh Wells' drumming is again a magnificent highlight, running in and out of the layered and intricate guitars and keyboards and providing a muscular and spine tingling backbone.

Title track Wilderness Heart is the highlight, cramming a ten minute epic into just under four minutes as all the elements magically come together perfectly: thunderous intro, duelling vocals, pneumatic waves of drumming and a soaring coda all weaving in and out of each other into a towering, all-conquering masterpiece. Thrilling.

Cera is Scott P, a Canadian slacker who falls for a new hot NY chick who skates into town with a host of evil exes in tow - if Scott wants to date her, he has to get through them first. Meanwhile his band, Sex Bob-Omb is working its way through a battle of the bands contest and his gay roommate Rory Culkin is trying to get him to move out of his flatshare so Scott can stop cramping his style.

It's never really explained why Scott has to battle Ramona's exes: is it all in his mind, the reaction of a post-adoscent brain fried by a lifetime of videogames to meeting someone with a past? 

Nothing's being rewritten here; there are few stand-out moments and the album works more as a whole as it runs on a pretty even tempo for its entirety. But it's in this simplicity and familiarity that my enjoyment has found its foothold. With songs like Everyone's Hip Jaill inject a certain degree of muscle into the archetypal indie jangle and a good dose of the surf rock vibe presides throughout. Falling neatly alongside bands like The Soft Pack, Jaill have stuck to what they know and done themselves proud.

The film and therefore the soundtrack are set in Melbourne's 'Little Band' scene of the late 70's, with some of the acts from that era reforming briefly to play on the soundtrack - such as The Primitive Calculators and Whirlywirld. Michael Hutchence stars in the film and leads the band of the title, but also provides a couple of more punky solo tracks here, of which Golf Course is pretty fun. Hutchence was inspired by the film and his work with veteran Melboune producer Ollie Olsen and the two of them worked together in the late 80's on Max Q.

Of course the ongoing success of some of the acts highlights their contributions here. Iggy's Endless Sea (from New Values) is a highlight of the movie and the soundtrack, while Nick Cave's Boys Next Door provide a classic in Shivers. Another highlight is the Thrush & The Cunts cover of the same song. Charming name.

While later JWAB efforts - 2001's The Old Noise and 2003's Pyrokenesis - have their moments (Pyrokenisis in particular with stellar stand-outs Fine Health Is At Home and the sublime To The Graves), both could be considered relatively patchy affairs. Death To False Metal on the other hand aims a little lower but maintains a solid, consistent level of entertainment - as well as a healthy live feel. You could imagine these two turning up at your BBQ and wowing the camp fire crowd with this whole album.

That's not to say it's all at one note - and This Broken Heart, New Wave Is Dead and particularly Half Mast provide some momentous highlights. Sure, it's still a lo-fi affair, but the passion and fury unleashed on some of the tracks is astounding and the record serves as a welcome early warning of Stephen McBean's deep reservoir of song-writing talent, not to mention Joshua Wells' epic drumming.

Listen in full over at CBC Radio 3 (Track 5 onwards is this album, the first 4 are from the 2 later albums).

Pastiche-heavy new song Radiant Hearts opened the show, before new album highlight Wilderness Heart moved the band quickly into a higher gear, storming though In The Future classics Evil Ways, Tyrants, plus Old Fangs, Rollercoaster and Let Spirits Rise from the new record.

Sadly, sound problems slowly encroached into the show -with McBean's increasingly problematic amp hampering the real growth of the performance. While the rest of the band made valient efforts to paste over the cracks - with an extended jam allowing some roadie tech action, before McBean stepped back in with a blistering riff, only to be denied again. Lightning Dust star Amber Webber's wailing vocals provide a much more pronounced appearance when seeing the band live and she provided a real focus for tonights show, holding the stage like a modern day Grace Slick. The keyboard-heavy sounds of the new album also got plenty of time in the spotlight via Jeremy Schmidt, while Joshua Wells' incredible drumming stole the show on several occasions - with the robotic licks of Tyrants never failing to deliver a spine-tingling thrill.

Ultimately, the sound issues were too much to overcome, and like a (muscle) car without gas, Steve McBean sloped off unfulfilled. However, some quick tweaks from a roadie and the band were back for a super-charged encore. The newer big hitters were nearly done, but the super-sub of Stormy High saw the band roar back into action, before chunky live versions of Druganaut and Don't Run Our Hearts Around brought the band's self-titled debut album back into the favourites list.

It would take a lot more than bad electrics to keep these guys down ...and I suspect their the following night may have been unbelievable. Tonight we just had to be satisfied with awesome.

Anyhow, Inception delivers on its promise of mind-bending action. It's smart, coherent, tense, exciting, unpredictable and rich with emotional depth. Once the rules of the game are established early on - ex-military tech is now being used by corporate spies to steal secrets from people in their dreams you say? Oh, OK, fine! - the movie takes hold, dropping you off in its dream logic, throwing you around the world, dizzying you with some excellent special effects and not letting up until the final credits. Think Eternal Sunshine of The Ocean's 11 Mind, with a bonus dash of Matrix flash (before it got shit). 

Leonardo DiCaprio steps up to the promise he's been showing since The Departed, with another beefy role as the experienced dream warrior who gets hired to plant an idea, rather than steal a secret. It's like he's getting wider rather than older. Ellen "Juno" Page is a great addition to Nolan's tricksy world, adding a grounded, sarky teen level to the blockbuster antics. Tom Hardy's role moves a touch too far towards Action Dude from the cerebral, shady forger who's brought on board the team to impersonate people in dreams, but he's still great - surely a big lead role in a Hollywood film can't be far off for him? Joseph Gordon-Levitt plays DiCaprio's right hand man, another thoroughly watchable performance from him. Cillian Murphy makes a decent mark for them to target. Ken Watanabe and Michael Caine - two more Nolan veterans - add yet more weight. Marion Cotillard perhaps hams it up a little as the mysterious French femme fatale, but that's a minor niggle - and there's an argument to be made that it's an intentional device. 

Going in cold to a film like this is highly recommended - so we'll stop here; it's easily the film of the summer - and a strong contender for the year's best.

Check out the comic book prequel here.

With just a guitar and his booming voice, the Wilco front man worked his way through a diverse range of classics from Wilco (Jesus Etc, Via Chicago, Kidsmoke), Uncle Tupelo (New Madrid, Acuff-Rose), Loose Fur (Laminated Cat, The Ruling Class) and a good selection of tracks from the Woody Guthrie albums on which Wilco teamed up with Billy Bragg (Remember The Mountain Bed [awesome], California Stars). He even bowed to "some asshole's" request for a Bob Dylan cover.

There was one exception to the solo status, as Tweedy was joined on stage early on by his 'hero' Bill Fay, with the two singing a charming duet of Be Not So Fearful. The more delicate setting placed a real emphasis on the lyrical quality of many of Tweedy's songs, highlighting his real talent as a talented and prolific songwriter, rather than just the front man of a brilliant rock band.

New tracks also made for some of the highlights (One Wing, Impossible Germany), but the star of the show was Tweedy's charming presence and wit - making the choosing of tracks by the audience like an episode of VH1's Storytellers starring Jack Dee. Brilliant.

Of course it's not that straightforward. The five kids play 90% of the characters in the backwater town of Shuckton, where death has literally come to town. In fact, he's staying at the the No-tell Motel. As the story evolves, we move between a handful of story lines - all revolving around murder in the town. We follow the trial of a 1/16th native suspect, the ascension of the mayors wife, rivalry in the local news crew and sofa-bound former hockey hero Ricky's dodging of death as he's compelled to solve the crime.

There may not be the screaming highlights of the show ("My pen!", Girl Drink Drunk), but it's all solid and full of laughs. Fat, thin, male, female - it makes no difference as the Kids seamlessly blend in and out, building a convincingly ridiculous picture of the intricacies of small town life.

"What's heaven like?"
"It's like Calgary. In the 60's."

In these dark times I continuously look across the pond for indie-pop alleviation and with The Drums I look no further. It's not reinventing the wheel but who needs reinvention with a record as joyous as this. Highlights include Forever And Ever Amen and I'll Never Drop My Sword.

Which begs the immediate question of whether this 12 track masterpiece really needs an expanded, 44 song edition? The answer isn't exactly yes, but if taken as 'extras', this is a fantastic release, which honours the original beautifully. The first disc features a newly remastered version of the original album, making it easy to switch off when that finishes. If you're on a mission, disc two should perhaps be listened to first - as the variety of demos from different periods in the production really show the evolution of the album, without the dull repetition that so many deluxe issue succumb too. Songs evolve from Robert Smith's home demos, through band rehearsals, band demos and studio outtakes.

Delirious Night, Pirate Ships and Babble offer notable non-album tracks on this disc, perfect for mix-tapes - but the more up-beat nature and tempo of each makes it easy to see why they didn't make the cut for the sombre/uplifting final record.

Disc three features the entire album, live (from Wembley Arena! Sell out). Stick this one on last and the evolution of the record is complete, transporting you back to a packed concert as the alum is majestically and triumphantly performed.

With such simple strokes Grossi produces epic magnitude and though the EP only spans 6 songs its power is astonishing. It's the soundtrack to a momentous event in your life.
Killer tracks: When Your Love Is Safe, I'm In Your Church At Midnight.

Wilderness Heart is due in September. Download Old Fangs now.

There's been much hype surrounding this band, largely due to the name change but also some pretty memorable live shows. This hype has taken its time to manifest here in the UK and it might have been difficult for a small band's reputation to precede them this much. But this release does all that justice and more than wets the appetite for the future.

Speaking as a total fan-boy, I can't say I'm not disappointed. I've travelled more miles to see this band play live than any other. I've always loved the new ideas that come with shifting line-ups, and lived with this new release for a month before posting my review, but I can't get over the fact that this album is (at best) hotch-potch, and at worst, weak.

It's certainly diverse - the opening track The Water Glass is a rallying cry for the Melvins massive - all military cadence drumming and boot-camp chanting. OK, a bit baffling, but perhaps it'll work live. Things suddenly look up with track 2 - Evil New War God. This is the best track on the album - classic Melvins chunk winding into a doomy synth assisted riff during it's outro. Great stuff, but from here on in, the pickings get much slimmer. Pig House starts out promisingly enough but ends up in a rock-bolero - that most hackneyed and corny device. Even if it's meant to be ironic, it still sounds cheesy.

I'll Finish You Off is next - and to my ears it sounds just like a Big Business track. I'm not hearing much Buzz and Dale in there. Electric Flower follows and this could be said to be the other highlight of the album. Hospital Up comes next, which sounds like a track that might have been left off Nude With Boots - it starts well but dissolves into two minutes of faux-jazz fucking around. The joke wears thin after about 20 seconds. Inhumanity And Death is a bit incoherent - a stitch-together of left-over riffs, or orphans that don't really get along with each other. Then we get an 8 minute version of The Who's My Generation played as a sloppy bar blues. Once again, the irony is lost on me - it's just boring. The Melvins have done some awesome cover versions over the years (White Punks On Dope, Promise Me) but this doesn't come up to scratch.

The album winds down with PG x 3 - a folksy tone-poem played through three times - on melodica, a-capella, and on fuzz guitar. It ends with a child's voice counting numbers and looping on the number 4. I quite like this, but it's not exactly Steve Reich. Perhaps that repeated number 4 is reminding us that there are four people in the Melvins, each with equal input. Perhaps - but I'm not sure if this serves as a declaration or a disclaimer.

Three Sheets To The Wind livens up the general slow pace with Death Cab For Cutie's Chris Walla on guitar, Slow Man shimmers with midwest heat and closer The Best OF Times continues Sage's tradition of ending on an epic note. WIth rich orchestration he wrenches the heartstrings to the bitter end.

Escape is a worthy addition to what Wooden Shjips do so well. Eight minute opener Motorcycle, I Love You never lets up with it's narcotic repetition and Stumbling 22nd St fizzes with scuzz. Awesome.

Now for the second route. Houck's 2007 release Pride was an exceptional piece of work. It was uncompromising and difficult, it was haunting and utterly bewitching. As track after track sprawled out over nine minutes it hypnotized you with its looped vocals and stark atmospherics. Houck's same fragility threatened to break under this weight and the tension was what kept you hanging on. There is very little of that approach in this record and so I must admit to a certain degree of disappointment. I had figured the tempo and general upbeatness of For Willie was due to it being covers. But it looks like this is the way Houck is heading. Having said that, I love it as a country record, full of heartfelt tales of sorrow and love-lost. I think I'm over-thinking this way too much.

So what next then for Murphy and crew? Well there's only one thing for it. You follow all that up with an equally tough record and meet the throbbing expectation head on. I say "equally tough" but This Is Happening isn't quite as satisfying as Sound Of Silver although it's close enough. Opener Dance Yrself Clean is a hell of a way to kick off a record; starting slow then punching in with the most pleasing beats since Daft Punk last played in his house. All I Want is the other power-track here and one that really displays the multi-string bow with which this band wield their charm. Centered around a looping guitar chord, it stretches out over six minutes with very little in the way of chorus, it just goes on and on with trance-like sensibilities which are interjected with bleeps and synths that swirl and dive around this structure. Pow Pow is reminiscent of I'm Losing My Edge and also Talking Heads' use of spoken word. Closer Home wraps everything up so perfectly with a near eight minute swirler of unbridled joy. It's another one that's gloriously reminiscent of Talking Heads and one that displays Murphy's trick of "all verse" delivery. The length of these songs coupled with the "all meat and no fat" structure gives an album like this some considerable might.

Everything James Murphy creates under this banner will ultimately be classed as dance music but this has an intelligence rarely seen in the genre. It's fiercely contemporary with songs like All I Want but then gloriously retro with Change and You Wanted A Hit. It's got its weak points however. Somebody's Calling Me is a bit tedious and lead single Drunk Girls (which just sounds like a lazy attempt to prick up the ears of radio listeners) is a touch thin. Having said that, along with I Can Change it's really the only conceivable choice they've got in terms of releases, when every other song here averages out at seven minutes. But when you're surrounded by such quality it seems darn-right picky to pinpoint these as weaknesses. It's a pretty rare thing when you get an album that I clearly haven't enjoyed as much as the predecessor that's so good there's really no reason to mark it any lower. (Having said that Sound Of Silver should really have been 4.5)

I have to admit though to feelings of disappointment throughout many of the initial listens here. Boxer's rich soundscapes and widescreen ambition seemed to have been compromised in favor of a much more low key sound. Matt Berninger's dichotomous writing can lift you up on "A wingspan unbelievable" with confessions of inadequacy and insecurity but here seemed to fall short of those heights and feel more content to leave you wallowing. The pace also hints at this redirection of vision. Boxer was a drummers album and High Violet rarely exploits this aspect to the same extent.

But to cut a long story short, now I bloody love it. I must have had it on repeat constantly for the last week and this new direction has seeped into my soul and to this day refuses to release me. I guess a good way to describe High Violet is in depth rather than height. While Boxer could often soar, these songs bury deep and take you to much darker places and all with the same tools. The same rich pallet is employed here as it swirls and builds with intricate subtlety around Berninger's baritone hum. Having their own studio and the gift of time afforded them space to obsess over every minute of this record, but instead of suffocating under these conditions it thrives - and it takes a skilled group of musicians with enough self awareness to achieve such a result. Speaking about their approach to High Violet, Aaron Dessner says "Matt expressed a desire to hear things that "sounded like hot tar. Or loose wool." This goes some way to describe the finished product that is High Violet. Songs like Sorrow and A Little Faith drip out with such thickness that given a decent pair of headphones it's quite easy to lose yourself in their density. Anyone's Ghost and Afraid Of Everyone are hollow depictions of loneliness and isolation, while Bloodbuzz Ohio continues where the Boxer heights left us.

Seeing them on their tour of Boxer I was quite worried to witness the bloated endings that seemed to have been tacked on to most of the songs. At the tail and of the vocals the Dessners' would step forth tho the front of the stage and elevate each song to a Wilco like frenzy of feverish guitars, and it really didn't suit their style. High Violet opener Terrible Love does this too but I am very pleased to see the restraint that this album shows and it never does it again. Given their astonishing rise this band would be forgiven for letting some of it go to their heads but this record shows this not to be the case. It is a work of admirable restraint yet progressive enough to honor the memory of what's gone before.

John Cusack trades off his 80s persona, taking every chance to diss the decade (all "Reagan and Aids") - although it's weird having some kid play the 80s version of him as we all know exactly what he looked like. Rob Corddry plays a similar pissed-off/manic role to the one he had in What Happens In Vegas; Clark Duke is Cusack's nephew experiencing the 80s for the first time (what? no wi-fi?); Craig Robinson is funny when checking out his Kid N Play boxcut.

More 80s cameos from Crispin Glover (aka George McFly) and Chevy Chase as the possibly mystic hot tub repair man. Nice nods throughout - Bowie skiing on MTV ads, Scritti Politti sounding great (I'm ready for the greatest hits coming out soon), and some ski patrol lunks freaking themselves out over some Red Dawn-style commie paranoia.

Could do without the homophobic panic that runs through a lot of these mindless slacker comedies though, and if you think about it too hard, the ending isn't really a total win, but hey, this isn't a Brief History Of Time, it's a Hot Tub Time Machine. 

In the comic which this is based on, this story plays out in entertaining fashion. Here it's ok... but just all seems so... thin. Shot after shot is in slow motion, with everyone wearing shades and looking TOUGH. Then you get some bits where it's in that beer ad slow/FAST/slow style that makes the whole film feel like a trailer for itself. 

On the upside, you can sort of imagine them all being in a better film with a script that has a little more depth and a little less unwarranted belief in its own amazing sense of coolness; Jeffrey Dean Morgan (The Comedian in Watchmen) is fine, Idris (I AM STRINGER BELL) Elba is credible and Chris (not that one) Evans has a few funny motormouth moments. But it all feels pretty generic and stupid, and the final action scene (SPOILER ALERT it's BLOW STUFF UP slow/FAST/slow BOOM BOOM BOOM mwah ha ha now you will see my real plan/ no wait!/ we've totally got you in our sights/ woah it's a set-up/ no! argh! BANG gotcha repeat to comedy final scene etc etc) isn't really all that exciting at all. 

One to read, not watch.

After a few half-assed encounters with some low-level street thugs (basically involving him having his ass-kicked), his scuba-suited antics get picked up on YouTube and he becomes something of a local hero. This brings him to the attention of a far more organised duo - Hit Girl and Big Daddy (Nicholas Cage on great form) - who show him (and us) what real-life vigilantism would actually look like - basically, some unhinged people running around with a lot of guns and weapons.

The action is fast-paced, the nods to comic books on form without being overbearing (one flashback scene all told with comic panels is brilliant), and the dialogue a deft balance between hilarious and daft. Aaron Johnson (last seen as the young John Lennon in Nowhere Boy) is an engaging lead, Christopher Mintz-Plasse (aka McLovin in Superbad) has a good sense of comic timing, and it's always good to have Nic Cage in a role where you don't hate him for not being as good as he used to be. 12 year old powerhouse Hit Girl is a force of nature too, she gets some of the best lines, and this could easily be a breakout role for Chloë Moretz.

Chuck in the odd disarmingly moving scene, some gore-packed fights and a plot that keeps just the right side of almost-believable, and it's a winner. Totally not suitable for kids though, will be interesting to see how well it does without an underage superhero audience packing it out (although, let's face it, there are probably more than enough grown-up superhero fans around these days...). 

Anyway. I digress.

Nik Bartsch has a musical mission and it's all about the crosstalk of rhythms. Ronin is one of his two bands, (the other is called Mobile) both of which share material and some members. Referred to by the ICA as "Zen-Funk" , it's a Jazz textured Steve Reich style experiment in rhythmic interplay, perhaps even more accurately called Math-Jazz. Anyway, before you all get visions of Howard Moon doing that Jazz face, it's important to understand that this band has a solid groove. The band play figures or riffs, patterns and pulses, but no wig-out solos or smug chords. The drummer might be playing in a different time signature to the piano, but a third rhythmic strand from the percussionist might lock them together in a new weird way that somehow makes your feet move.

Using acoustic instruments, plus electric bass, and some deftly applied reverb and delay, the band introduce musical patterns gradually, letting them take root in your head before something else joins in. Woodwind player Shaa creates mighty rasps from a contrabass clarinet, and smooth round tones from an alto sax. Bartsch himself is a very active player for a minimalist - confining his minimalism to the notes and figures played, but constantly plunging into the guts of the piano to mute the strings, pluck them and strum them with a drum-stick. In fact the whole band have this approach - to get maximum variety of tonal sound from the repeating figures (and keeping it funky).

The band really seemed to enjoy themselves - they had a nice crisp sound and were warmly received by the crowd. Absolutely recommended - next time they visit, be sure to check 'em out.

So it was with some anticipation and an ear-full of growing acclaim that I clicked 'Play' on 'Odd Blood''. 5 tracks later, however, I found myself nodding in agreement to the lyrics of 'O.N.E.'; 'You don't move me anymore... I can't take it anymore'. What the hell happened?

Where 'All Hour Cymbals’ was rich in sound, layering a broad range of instruments and vocal harmonies to create songs that had real originality, 'Odd Blood' has gone through the looking glass into a strange world of bland electro-pop.

The first three tracks passed by entirely unremarkably until I sat up with a jolt during 'I Fear', convinced that Dave Gahan had suddenly joined the band. It's a 'Stars in their eyes' moment as the vocal impersonation of Depeche Mode's lead singer comes amplified by the tune's looping synthesizer/ electronica clamour.

For a band that can be so musically inventive the numbing dullness of the lyrics on 'Odd Blood' provide even greater consternation. 'Don't give up one me I won't give up on you'... 'Control me like you used to... I like it when you lose control', stand out as particularly inane. Yeasayer, however, clearly don’t agree and make endless repetitions of said self-lobotomising lyrics, integral elements of their songs.

By track 7, 'Rome', the Depeche Mode influence cedes way to the Scissor Sisters. With a chorus of testicle crunching altos; 'It's just a matter of time/ There's no mistaking that!' the album lurches on towards electro-mash-up oblivion. There is some relief in the closing track where some of the old lyricism returns but it’s too little too late.

Thank god for bands that won't be pinned down and Yeasayer's energy is undeniable and laudable. There's no reason that 'Odd blood' should echo the character of their debut album but having seen where this band has taken its sound next I'm not sure I'll be keeping an eye on them after all.

American-Swedish-brother-sister team, Dag för Dag, released their first EP in May '09 and now come back at us with debut album, 'Boo'. For the most part these thirteen (excepting the bonus, previously unreleased) tracks brood and boil with the intensity of a Nordic winter. Things dip at the album's centre and a little preening could have shorn off the dreary, introspective gloom that infects tracks like 'Silence as the verb' and 'Light on your feet'.

Parthemore Snavely and Jacob Donald Snavely exchange vocals throughout the album, but it is Parthemore who really drives the sound. Her voice tussles with the guitars and, at its best, explodes with a Siouxsie-like energy.... (at its worst there are a couple of dangerous 'Cranberries' moments lurking in there, when the female vocals wail a little too sincerely....)

'Boo' is most successful when the raw sentiments expressed in the lyrics are complimented by boisterous guitars and some determined drumming. Along the way it steps on a few toes; BRMC are in there, the Cure too and most blatantly Arcade Fire when on the (excellent) 'Animal', Parthemore shrieks 'Let's Go!' repeatedly as a counterpoint to Jacob's lead vocals. It's to their credit that 'Dag för Dag' have enough personality to make the music stand out inspite of these comparisons. I'm guessing that Live, these guys should make for a dag gawn good show....

If you care to, you can listen to a selected track from each album (where available) on this Spotify playlist: - Locochimpo: 2000-2009

So, uh, yeah that’s this album. Warm and electronica-tinged, some vocals but mainly instrumentals. Definitely not unpleasant to listen to. Not really saying anything though. Like if you’re at a party in one of those bars where you have to shout everything although you haven’t drunk enough for the shouting to come naturally. Just as you’re thinking to yourself about how stupid it is that these places actually make you have to get pissed as a basic operating requirement. You’re about to head to the bar, or better still maybe just disappear entirely when someone says hello. You don’t even recognise them but they know your name. It’s bad enough forgetting someone’s name but forgetting their whole face is terrible. Eventually you piece it together, you ask if they’ve seen Alex, yes, he’s coming down later. Then that’s it, you’re just making excruciating small talk with someone, desperately scanning the room for one of your friends even though you hate people who scan the room, and so you’ve become something that you hate and all because this person is just nice.

Oh yeah, sorry, the album. That’s what happens. You start off listening to it – then four or five minutes later you come out of a train of thought and remember you were supposed to listening to it.

It would make good film soundtrack music. It’s melodic and courses with pleasant emotion and I can imagine Gael Garcia Bernal doing something cool up the side of sunbaked mountain with ‘A Chorus of Storytellers’ playing in the background. But I’d get someone else to write the main theme.

3/5 (Although if you’re building an Ikea wardrobe it gets 5/5)
 

The album art should serve as a warning - chocolate box graphics of a hot air balloon flying over a sunny coastline. Big happy vocal harmonies from the commercial end of the SF Summer of Love overlayed with Allman Brothers twin lead guitar - throughout. Baffling - exactly the sort of music the Mothers Of Invention were lampooning even back in 1967. Technically, these boys might think they sound like Allman and Betts, but the guitar sound is a whack modern equivalent played rather too accurately (it sounds more like a single pointy-headstock guitar through a harmonizer, not a couple of good ol' boys cookin' up a storm).

Well perhaps it's just too difficult for a cynical Englishman sitting at home during the coldest winter we've had in 30 years to imagine a warm Californian breeze, but I'm not going for this big bunch o' corn. The contents of this CD (songs, vocals, guitar, production) have all been done better elsewhere. 40 years ago.

Grumpy Pilton