Chimpomatic

Pearl Jam

O2, London

With relatively few UK gigs under their belts, it's always nice to have Pearl Jam in town. Assuming they aren't one of your most hated bands, of course.  As noted by the band, their first UK gig was at The Borderline in '92 - and they were often described as being 'full of energy'. Probably because they "only played eight songs" - a long way from tonight's three-hour-plus show in front of a packed house. So packed, that Eddie Vedder wisely hypnotized the crowd into taking a unified three steps back about four songs in, reminding everyone of why they were away from Europe for so long before.

With the band maturing gracefully, and the Ten reissue garnering such nostalgic praise, it's hard not to suspect that Pearl Jam may be winding things down somewhat. Tracks from imminent new release Backspacer didn't make much impact, while the set was packed with often overlooked tracks from the earliest (four) albums.

Surprise opener Release was a highlight, plus plenty of favourites from Vitalogy, the spine-tingling Footsteps, personal favourite Light Years - as well as obligatory singalongs Black and Betterman, plus the rousing encore of Crazy Mary.

While you might expect the enormodome proportions of the O2/Millenium Dome to make for a stale atmosphere, with the right band it makes for an exuberant party vibe. We're all here to see Pearl Jam, but with the beer stand so easy to get to you'd be foolish to pull the usual trick of backing up your toilet breaks to the end. And so evolves a new dilemma: where to take your break. With so many favourites flowing easily it's a tough descision, especially when unknown newer songs provoke a mass exodus/bigger queues. Like choosing which kid to throw out the boat first, I went with Rats, while BC chose lesser known b-side I Got ID and CJ bizarrely chose Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town. At least he was back quick.

If you hate them, you hate them, but if you love them you'll wish you had been there for a typically roof-raising performance from the definite 'grunge' (ha!) rockers.

Setlist:
Release
Animal
Corduroy
Why Go
Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town
Immortality
The Fixer
Even Flow
I Got I.D.
Rats (with a bit of Michael Jackson' Ben)
Got Some
Whipping
Light Years
Insignificance
Black
Life Wasted
Blood (with a bit of Atomic Dog)

Supersonic
Hail Hail
Footsteps
Love, Reign O'er Me
Do The Evolution
Alive

Better Man (with a bit of Save It For Later)
Crazy Mary
Leaving Here
Porch
Yellow Ledbetter

I've put the best part of the setlist into a Spotify playlist here.

#Music
#Gig
#CSF

19th Aug 2009 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Inglourious Basterds

(dir. Quentin Tarantino)

Miramax

After the pasting that Death Proof got here (we even had to get Tech Support to code us up a special Zero Stars graphic) expectations haven't exactly been riding high for Tarantino's Nazi-bashing opus. It's also had one of those long gestation periods that puts you off, with rumours flying around that he's had to cut chunks out/ add loads back in, that it was going to be split in two (again!) or was so long he was going to have to turn it into a TV series (actually, it would be kind of fun if HBO would let him loose some time); the mixed reviews at Cannes certainly didn't seem to bode well either. 

But forget all that. About five minutes into this film, you'll remember what it is you liked about Tarantino in the first place. Yes, he's a total film geek whose only frame of reference seems to be other films - but when he pulls it off, he's more than capable of turning that encyclopedic knowledge into something thrilling. Basterds is exciting, has something to say, has a great cast - and more than anything, it's surprisingly fun.

Here, we've got two main threads running in tandem through five chapters. On the one hand, the Basterds - a kind of Dirtier Dozen, with Brad Pitt leading a commando unit of Jewish avengers on a rampage through second world war Germany, scalping as many Nazis as possible and generally causing total havoc. That's the story that's featured in the early trailers, and again, the prospect of watching a bloodbath for two hours didn't really seem that promising. 

The other thread involves a Jewish woman (a brilliant Mélanie Laurent) who's running a small cinema in the heart of Nazi-occupied Paris. She's living in secret, passing herself off as a gentile, when a German war hero falls for her, and convinces Goebbels and the rest of the Third Reich (including Hitler) that her little cinema would be the perfect venue for the premiere of Nation's Pride, a propaganda film about his real-life war exploits (which he's also starring in)...

Tarantino pulls these two stories together with typical flair, but it's much more subtle than the tricksiness of Pulp Fiction. There's real drive and tension here as the pieces weave together - don't want to go into too much more plot detail here, as half the fun is not knowing how it fits together.

What's also worth noting is that Brad Pitt aside, this is a cast of relative unknowns - you may have seen Diane Kruger in Troy, but don't hold that against her - she's great here as a German movie star. Hostel director Eli Roth plays one of the Basterds, Sgt Dony Donowitz (and he also shot the footage for Nation's Pride). Michael Fassbender (Bobby Sands in Hunger) is the British spy teaming up with the Basterds. Daniel Brühl is the smooth-talking German war hero. Even Mike Myers is hilarious again in a cameo as a British army officer barking out mission instructions. But the real stand-out is Christopher Waltz as the creepy Nazi Col Hans Landa - effortlessly flipping between German, French, English and Italian (in one of the film's most hilarious/tense scenes). He's a character that lingers long after the credits have rolled. And you won't look at a glass of milk in the same way for a while.

It's heavily subtitled, which Tarantino uses to great effect. Unlike a lot of second world war films, he's not afraid to let everyone speak in their own language, which builds a sense of the war taking place across the continent; language becomes something to hide behind, or give people away. Even Pitt's Southern-drawling Lt Aldo Raine could do with some explanation at times - his accent is so hilariously OTT it should come with subtitles... 

For film buffs there's plenty to enjoy - although you may want to brush up on your war films before watching if you want to get all the references here. The title of the first chapter - "Once Upon a Time in Nazi-Occupied France" - sets the tone. This is a fantasy, a film that's not afraid to take history and play fast and loose with it; to talk about cinema's power and potential, and ideas of revenge; and also, for once, to start to examine some of the more gratuitous aspects of the QT violence in the cinema aesthetic (alright, while still giving us some more insanely gratuitous moments). It's also just really enjoyable - much more of a romp than you'd expect.

#Film
#chimp71

18th Aug 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Yim Yames

Tribute to George Harrison

Rough Trade

Well stone me! This is crazy My Morning Jacket front man Jim James. Who'd have thought it? Despite the pseudonym this short George Harrison tribute record does more in its first song than Evil Urges did in its entirety. I know it's wrong to put an artist in a cage but we've all seen what happens when Jim steps out of his, and I for one am glad to see him drenched in reverb, strumming an acoustic and displaying his vocal range in all its subtleties without a N.E.R.D. style hip hop beat in sight. Confined by Harrison's songs there's no mention of librarians or the interweb, and he more than does these songs justice. Love You To and Ballad Of Sir Frankie Crisp (Let It Roll) are instant highlights and his version of My Sweet Lord is ghostly and delicate. I wouldn't be surprised if we get a Hari Krishna line in a future MMJ song though, but until that time it sure is good to hear Jim do what he does best. It's just in time too as I haven't listened to a MMJ record for some time and now have renewed hope for the forthcoming Monsters Of Folk project.

#Music
#BC

18th Aug 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Nurses

Apples Acre

Dead Oceans

This Portland, Oregon band should count themselves very lucky that I'm going through something of a slack period in my duties for this site. Had I handed this review in last week when I should have, the score you see before you would be devoid of a star or two. Up until last week I found this record an interesting but ultimately frustrating and all too familiarly quirky statement. But then it hit me, in the space of one listen the other day the magic that is locked deep inside this record made itself known to me. The increased appreciation for something that had appeared so irritating is one thing to marvel at, but how a record as seemingly sparse and simple as this can have such delights hidden within is remarkable, there's not many places it can hide. The eery melodies that are coaxed from Aaron Chapman's otherworldly vocals stand alone among the barren sonic landscape, backed by an elementary rhythm section and distant glimmers of percussion the whole sound seems to show its cards from the start, but it's a bluff so don't be fooled, this is great stuff.

Having self released their debut back in 2007 Aaron Chapman and John Bowers have done their fair share of rambling but finally settled on Portland as their home. Picking up a third member, James Mitchell, their sound has laid down roots into the deeply dysfunctional yet joyously elegant psych-pop that makes up Apple's Acre. One way to describe it is Animal Collective on half the budget or Grizzly Bear on half the anal retention. There's an ease to which these songs seem to have been created. They appear shambolic at first with their rickety percussion and decrepit Rhodes piano and Chapman's high pitched delivery, but then out of this mess comes some of the most delightful melodies, and with such scant back-up it's Chapman alone who crafts these.

As a whole, the record swells to incorporate ever growing elements. In the early stages we get the thrifty concoction of voice and piano as in opener Technicolor, the feeling being lonely and haunting. Then slowly the vocals are layered and this is when the finest, most thrilling results occur. Manatarms starts off empty with dispersed voices circling the drums but then each voice falls in behind Chapman's squeak and the whole thing rises like an orchestra. The same can be said for Lita towards the end of the record. This is clearly the standout track here and throughout its three and a half minutes my heart reaches new joys far higher than any delicately crafted Grizzly Bear arrangement. With a trembling piano and plodding rhythm the vocal harmonies take their time to soar but soar they certainly do. But this isn't anthemic soaring we're used to in pop music. This is soaring that could collapse at any point and I guess it's somewhere in this tension that the beguiling beauty is to be found. 

#Music
#BC

17th Aug 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Cave Singers

Welcome Joy

Matador

Rising from the ashes of Pretty Girls Make Graves, the Cave Singers have quickly expended beyond the success of that band and carved out a nice niche for themselves. Debut record Invitation Songs was an unknown quantity, bringing a certain mystery and uniqueness that was initially a little difficult to crack. Was it a guy singing? A girl? Marge Simpson? Are they taking the piss? Once those initial questions had settled down a little, the record settled in to become an easy stand-out of 2007.

There's certainly less mystery to this new record, but instead just a welcome anticipation that this is going to be good record. On first listen there's certainly little disappointment, but the initial reaction is 'here's some more Cave Singers' - 10 new tracks that sound like a direct expansion on the first album. Repeated listening quickly dispels that simple notion.

Over the course of opener Summer Light and second song Leap, the album ramps up to a higher tempo than Invitation Songs and it never looks back. The eclectic folky sound of the debut is subtly pulled back, stripping away some of the washboard and the melodica influence and giving way to a more traditional rock sound. That sound is bolstered by the production of Colin Stewart, who returns to man the decks after the debut, plus stints producing favourites including Black Mountain and Ladyhawk.

As the record settles in, the evolution of the band's sound starts to emerge, with them now sounding somewhat more grown into their sound. Songs are belted out with a more self-assured style and what was something of a novelty with the first record is now the definitive sound of an accomplished band. Songs like Townships, At The Cut (mp3 here), Beach House (mp3 here) and VV have an instant familiarity, sounding like old classics that you haven't heard in a while.

Warm, nostalgic, rocking and powerful - this is the ghost of Fleetwood Mac, channeled through the Pacific Northwest with magnificent success.

#Music
#CSF

15th Aug 2009 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Stardeath And White Dwarfs

The Birth

WEA

Been a while since I picked up a CD because of the band's name. In the old days, way before we were all plugged into the matrix, downloading mp3s into our eyeballs all day, you'd often find yourself taking a punt on a "record" just because the band had called themselves something kerrazy like Gaye Bykers On Acid or Butthole Surfers (who could resist an album called Hairway To Steven?) - even Sonic Youth sounded like a pretty interesting proposition...

Seeing the cover of Stardeath And White Dwarfs reminded me of those days somehow - hadn't heard anything about them, liked the artwork, thought the name was something to live up to, and figured it should be worth at least skipping through.

What a pleasant surprise then to find it's an album that more than justifies the OTT interstellar name. 

Of course, it's easy these days to find out who any freaks are: and your at-one-ness with the matrix has probably already identified Stardeath from their excellent team-up with the Flaming Lips on a Borderline cover earlier in the year. As their website freely admits, they're pretty tied in with the Lips team - 

"A lot has been made of the connection between Stardeath and The Flaming Lips, so let's go ahead and get that out of the way so we can move on. Yes, they are from Oklahoma, where the waving wheat sure tastes sweet, etc. And, yes, head Dwarf, Dennis Coyne, is the nephew of head Lip, Wayne Coyne. And, yes, three of the Dwarfs (Casey, Matt and Dennis) once formed the core of The Flaming Lips' road crew. And, yes, they have played many a show with The Flaming Lips (and will probably play many more in the future)."

- and there's some obvious comparisons with the Flaming Lips mothership running through this debut. That mix of modern psychedelic freakery and acoustic campfire singalong is a template they don't deviate far from. 

The Sea On Fire kicks off with a proper doom-rock riff kicking in after what sounds like someone plugging in; it's full of fuzz on title track The Birth; and flips into catchy rock-outs on New Heat - even into wandering into Pink Floyd Dark Side Of The Moon era instrumental bass-heaviness on Those Who Are From The Sun Return To The Sun. And, as you'd expect from a band working in the Flaming Lips tradition, Stardeath aren't afraid to pull it all back down for some mellow acoustic moments too on tracks like Smokin' Pot Makes Me Not Want To Kill Myself (hmm, wonder what that one's about?). But it's all in the best possible taste, like they've learned from an apprenticeship with master craftsmen, and have stepped out into their own practice with confidence. Look forward to hearing more from them, reckon this is a set list that should take off live.

#Music
#chimp71

13th Aug 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet