Live Review

Live Review: Better Oblivion Community Centre @ O2 Academy, Bristol

Better Oblivion Community Centre is advertised as a therapeutic, almost cult-like, meeting. The warm voice that tells you this at the beginning and the end of the concert makes this apparent, but it’s really the combined efforts of two fantastic folk musicians – Conor Oberst, formerly of Bright Eyes, and Phoebe Bridgers, one of the best up-and-coming singers today. Their self-titled debut as a duo was released at the start of the year, and though it was an ordinary, albeit depressing, folk rock album, it was clear that Oberst and Bridgers fit together perfectly. I was excited to see how their dynamic would play out in concert, and for two singers who have made their name by writing crushingly sad music, it was one of the most joyful and cathartic concerts I’ve been to.

Singer-songwriter Christian Lee Hutson was the show’s opening act, and he warned the audience that he would be talking more than playing before he started. Indeed, his banter between songs was lengthy, and he explained that it was his first time properly in England, and that he didn’t really have any upbeat songs. Similarly, his lyrics were humorously self-deprecating, with song titles such as ‘I Just Can’t Fucking Do It Anymore’, yet they were also poignant pieces of storytelling that were Elliot Smith-esque. With his music starting to gain traction and his third album soon to be released, he is one to watch for the future.

it was one of the most joyful and cathartic concerts I’ve been to

Hutson returned to the stage as Better Oblivion Community Centre’s lead guitarist, and the show began the same way as the album, with ‘Didn’t Know What I Was in For’. Oberst and Bridgers sang in unison as the song built up into an explosive outro, giving the song much more life than what was on the studio version. In fact, the band only played three songs acoustically, opting for rockier versions of their songs, while the synths of ‘Exception to the Rule’ were even more intense than on the studio recording. After playing nearly every song from their album, Oberst and Bridgers led the band into a cover of The Replacements’ ‘Can’t Hardly Wait’, and spent second half of the show covering each other’s songs, with Bridgers doing justice to the anthemic ‘Devil Town’, ‘Easy/Lucky/Free’, and a wonderful rendition of ‘Lua’. Meanwhile, Oberst played a punk version of ‘Funeral’ and led the crowd into a singalong of ‘Scott Street’. Like the album, the show fittingly ended with the haunting ‘Dominos’, completing the emotional journey of loneliness and reflection that both singers so often sing about.

Better Oblivion Community Centre’s live show is much more than the album brought to life with sprinklings of fan favourite Bright Eyes and Phoebe Bridgers songs. It’s like the band is taking you on their journey, and is every bit as therapeutic as advertised. There’s nothing quite like watching Oberst and Bridgers sing and scream their hearts out about loneliness, knowing it will all get better someday.

Live Review: Loyle Carner @ Trinity Arts Centre, Bristol

“leave everything in yesterday… everything!”

Benjamin Coyle-Larner, known by his stage name of Loyle Carner, raps over the playback of Jordan Rakei featuring on his latest single, ‘Ottolenghi’ from his new album, Not Waving But Drowning. “Everything” he stresses, to the lovingly loud Bristol crowd. He reveals a nugget of advice from the song: leave behind what no longer serves you and resist the urge to ruminate on regrets. Carner gives this advice as if he is still learning it himself as he uses his music to process those yesterdays. Dubbed ‘heartfelt hip-hop’ by The Guardian, Carner reminds his listeners that rap is an art form that can be personal and emotional. He cautiously asks the crowd if he can perform a poem, the crowd roar with encouragement. His uncertainty is explained by an experience of toxic masculinity many of us, regardless of gender, are familiar with. He was told that poetry not cool, it was too feminine and flowery for a lad from south London. I’m reminded, and it seems he is too, that rap is poetry and it should be performed and appreciated by everyone despite what gender norms dictate.

Whilst most of his songs reference the yesterday that has gone, Carner has used his yesterdays to craft and communicate a picture of his life experiences. With each song on the setlist, he passionately shares these stories and reflections with the crowd as if he were catching up with an old friend, instead of performing to a sold-out audience.

he passionately shares these stories and reflections with the crowd as if he were catching up with an old friend

Trinity Arts Centre still bears the antiquated exterior of the grade II* listed church it was. However, it is now a space that has been reappropriated into a venue and community arts centre. It seems rather ironic to attend a hip-hop gig in an old church until you hear the gospel ring of ‘The Lord Will Make a Way’ on ‘Isle of Arran’ and Carner’s prayer-esque poetry recitals. The Bricks and More tour was completely sold-out in the UK, so it’s no surprise to see that scattered throughout the chatty crowd are fans clothed with Carner’s white and red Umbro F.C. shirts. Later the crowd would roar with football fan energy and sing “Ohh Loyle Carner” in the melody of ‘Seven Nation Army’ to beckon Carner back from the encore.

Pianist and composer, Ashley Henry, took to the stage with double bassist Donald Fergus, and drummer Jordan Hadfield for the support of the night. The trio played instrumentals that exhibited their individual talents; Henry performed his piano solos like a rock star would shred guitar. The double bass instantly gave their performance a chill, jazz vibe but heated moments of fast-paced build-ups were not amiss. It was the perfect way to ease an excitable, chatty crowd into Loyle Carner’s set. Ashley Henry later joined Loyle Carner on stage, with rapper, Rebel Kleff. The audience buzzes with anticipation at the attendance of any other possible special guests, particularly since a speaker on stage is labelled ‘Tom Misch’. However, Carner confirmed that Misch would not make an appearance but hoped the audience will stand in for Misch’s vocals on the track he features. The crowd willingly sang loudly over the playback for ‘Angel’.

Carner fostered a space for sharing stories of vulnerability, misplacement, and comfort, connection, and love

With his latest record feature-heavy, Carner used each playback as an opportunity to express how much he loved the musicians he collaborated with. Humorously, he signalled Sampha’s vocals on ‘Desoleil (Brilliant Corners)’ by whispering “Samph-ahh!” in awe and captioning his favourite parts of Sampha’s angelic vocals. The track closes with Loyle Carner rapping the last verse rapidly, the audience’s excitement grows as they cheer him on. Rebel Kleff joined Carner on stage to perform ‘You Don’t Know’ and the two friends bounced across the stage with energy suggestive of Carner’s excitement at collaborating and connecting with other artists. He candidly explains the formation of the opening and closing tracks on his latest album as dedicates his opening track ‘Dear Jean’ to his loving mother, Jean Coyle-Larner, who writes a tear-jerking poem in response on ‘Dear Ben’. He reminds the crowd to tell their mothers how much they love them as he sat on the edge of the stage to perform such a personal piece.

Humbled by the praise and applaud of avid fans after every song, Carner admits he attempts to keep a serious, composed face as the song ends – but can’t help but cheekily grin at the smiling faces in the crowd. With his genuine comments in between each song, Carner fostered a friendly gig environment, a space for sharing stories of vulnerability, misplacement, and comfort, connection, and love. He configures himself as a fan, a member of the audience and a performer all at the same time. As he raps ‘Loose Ends’, he recalls how he would resent the stage and “Watch the crowd, watch the stage thinkin’, “Shit”. Rather be in the crowd with your mate’s drinkin’”.

He seems to have found a way to balance being a mildly famous rapper and a genuinely decent person, which many famous people still cannot manage. Even the “uh” that Carner raps in between each verse of his songs sounded confident, it wasn’t hard to see that he was enjoying the positive and loving audience response. As he bid goodbye to the crowd, he humbly admitted that as long as avid fans still want to rap along to his songs, he will continue to write music.

Loyle Carner continues his tour in Europe and will return to London and Manchester in the summer for festival appearances.

Live Review: Benjamin Francis Leftwich @ The Cavern

Benjamin Francis Leftwich’s music is not precisely what one thinks about when they hear the words “nightclub on a Saturday night”. The whole concept sounds contradictory. And yet the combination of the two that I got to see at Cavern on the 6th of April was surprising and charming, in the best possible way.

The opening act, Rosie Carney, was a delight of cello and guitar above which a velvety voice kept soaring. Her music sounded familiar. Carney played with a formula for soft indie guitar music I felt I had heard before, but never with this particular arrangement of strings, and never with such a special voice on top. A shy presence onstage, she reminded me of Florence Welch’s quiet voice – both Carney and Welch could be powerful and belt whenever they wanted to, but they don’t need to. “Awake Me” was definitely a highlight of her set, as was “Thousand”. Rosie Carney sounded unpretentious, gentle and humble, letting her long notes and her silences in between those say everything.

he managed to turn a normal concert setup into an intimate evening

And then, nearly an hour after the start of the first set, the lights went down to a dim blue glow and Peter Gabriel’s orchestral version of “Heroes” by David Bowie started playing through the speakers of Cavern Club. That’s when I knew I would like the show. The sound wrapped around the audience, already packed into the small space between the mixing desk at the back and the stage. I don’t know if that was a decision Cavern made, or if it was part of Leftwich’s set, but it definitely added emotion to the concert.

When he finally walked the steps to get onstage, Benjamin Francis Leftwich looked as if he was going to pick up his guitar and sing some songs in his own living room. Dressed in jeans and a hoodie, it was clear that he felt more comfortable without being glorified by his audience. And the best thing about his set was that he managed to turn a normal concert setup into an intimate evening that rather felt like we were collectively singing songs together, maybe after a summer afternoon garden party. “Butterfly Culture” is one of the best examples of this collectiveness that connected the whole audience: this mysterious group of people he sang about, the notes from this song about a girl, they seemed to reach the rows of people at the back of the room. The front rows started singing along, and if someone had lit up some sparklers, I would have not been surprised at all.

he worked incredibly well with an audience that appreciated the honesty in his songs

Leftwich was upfront and honest about him feeling nervous, but his sped-up talk about this water bottle he had received as a present from his mother felt both raw and endearing at the same time. Yet no one was expecting it when he turned off his mic and amplifiers and walked to the edge of the stage, singing us his music completely unplugged. The sound wasn’t the best, and I’m not sure if the people at the back could hear it too well, but it didn’t matter: the silence was all-encompassing. The peace he sings about in “Gratitude”, the last song before the encores, could be touched and felt, floating around a captivated audience.

His sound was minimal, even compared to his studio recordings, and that didn’t work as well for his new songs (even though the other musician on stage, who played keyboards, synths and all sorts of pads, did add a lot of dimension), which are significantly more atmospheric than his older stuff. Nonetheless, one could perceive a clear direction that Leftwich had decided to take his live show on, which worked incredibly well with an audience that appreciated the honesty in his songs. Endlessly grateful for the people he had encountered, the places he had seen and the things he had been able to do, Benjamin Leftwich’s voice was just the way it sounded in his recordings: timid but decisive, young but wise – And the connection he created amongst all of us was more than enough to make his live act worth it.

Live Review: Beans On Toast @ Exeter Phoenix

I always leave a Beans On Toast gig with a sense of optimism I don’t see much of in everyday life. That sounds like a cry for help. What I mean is that Jay McAllister, accompanied with his band on this tour, creates a particular atmosphere that has brought me back nine times to his live shows. We’re in double figures now across five years now, Beans.

This was my second time with Jay at the Exeter Phoenix and my second time with his A Bird In The Hand tour promoting his newest record of the same name. I was also lucky (and/or sad as my Instagram followers might argue) enough to see the sets the previous weekend to the Exe show at Bristol’s Thekla. In all honesty, I was sold on this tour in part by Jay, but mostly by the announcement that Benjamin Folke Thomas was going to be one of the support. The man deserves his own article but he is an amazing vocalist and well worth checking out for anyone interested in fingerstyle guitar. His voice is like molasses and sawdust and wisdom.

His set began with ‘One Day’, a suitable introductory track to his sense of dry humour, peppered with his *slightly* existential flair (Modern Man 2018). But if you listen to one song by Benjamin Folke Thomas, please (please, please) let it be ‘Stuff Of Dreams’ which closed his portion of the night. With a ‘Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door’ vibe as my Dad says, this is his most played track on Spotify for a reason. You’ll see. It also lent itself well to an audience participation sing-along that helped warm the crowd up for the next act.

There isn’t a word to fully describe the Norwich-born brand of sweetness that comes from Jess Morgan, the second act to play the Phoenix stage that night. Chatty as anything, with a sort of self depreciating, awkward charm, Jess Morgan’s guitar is one thing but that voice I did not expect – like pressed linen, so soft and so smooth. My favourite song of her Exeter set list has to be ‘Come To The Opera With Me, Loretta’ (Edison Gloriette, 2016), a retelling of the plot of Moonstruck (1987), an 80’s comedy drama starring Cher and Nicholas Cage. Potentially enough said about the film, but Morgan’s song is full of all her wispy soul and sense of humour – as well as melody I’ve had stuck in my head since I first heard it.

The two support acts joined Beans alongside Dave Dangers (yes, the one that smiles at strangers) and Matt Millership on drums and keys respectively. I’ve only seen Beans play with a full band a handful of times in the last year or so. Jess Morgan was on bass, while Benjamin Folke Thomas offered up his harmonica skills as well as his guitar playing and the set began with a full band version of ‘Another Year’ (A Bird in the Hand, 2018). They played a few songs as the gang before Beans and Matt were left onstage for ‘Taylor Swift’ (Cushty, 2017), a response to the question “if you could have a drink with anyone, dead or alive, fictional or non fictional who would you like to have drink with?”. During such, Beans’ took the opportunity of messing up the lyrics (not uncommon at a Beans On Toast show) to talk a little about idolatry and recent “call out culture”. Jay alluded to allegations regarding Ryan Adams and argued that we shouldn’t avoid these conversations because “there’s plenty of people who have done the same”. If anything, that makes it more integral to “call a prick a “prick””, famous or otherwise.

The set then turned to Beans as we mostly know him: alone on stage with his acoustic guitar

The set then turned to Beans as we mostly know him: alone on stage with his acoustic guitar. He took us through a handful of tracks by himself. ‘I’m Home When You Hold Me’ (Rolling Up the Hill, 2015) will never fail to make me swoon a little at the thought of a Sunday afternoon with a loved one. ‘The Sun, The Moon and Me’ (Cushty 2017) is always one that throws me a little, as he introduces it onstage every time by saying it’s about a sort of “elemental orgy”. A gorgeous track with its beautiful melody, but still hasn’t been massively figured out yet. ‘Stinging Nettles’ saw Jess Morgan and all her loveliness return to the stage for the harmonies that appeared on the original album recording (The Grand Scheme of Things, 2014). Aimed at children and commissioned by Camp Bestival a few years ago, the track speaks to a return to nature: “There’s still some things you can enjoy without your login details”.

Beans is the architect of some really powerful moments at his live shows. Needless to say, when the set turned to ‘Magic’ (A Bird in the Hand, 2018), a heartfelt tribute to the birth of his daughter Wren last January; the whole room was filled with that sense of wisdom, wonder and unconditional love. Although the vibe swiftly changed pace, as Beans and his band returned to the usual politically-minded material we are used to. ‘Smells Like Bullshit’ (Cushty 2017) is a frank critique of the current socio-economic and political situation. In my mind, the overarching message of accountability for those who control the narrative – big businesses, the political elite… “the man” if you will – is one that rings true more and more each day. Plus, it has to be said that Jay’s dad dancing is always a giggle during this song.

‘Bamboo Toothbrush’ is not Beans’ first go at an eco-warrior protest song (A Bird in the Hand, 2018). ‘The Great Big Fucking Hole’, while factually incorrect as many teachers have since told him, casted Jay as somewhat environmentally conscious from the beginning of his career (Standing on a Chair 2009) Much of his discography since has always had a moderately “green” message. ‘Bamboo Toothbrush’ landed Beans with a collaboration with the Bristol based company Mabboo who sell a plethora of bamboo alternatives to everyday items. From toothbrushes to cutlery to cotton buds. Legends, the lot of them. Beans’ merch stall stocked a bunch of the toothbrushes which he promoted onstage by using as a baton for the audience participation at the end of the song: nothing pleases my vegan/hippy tendencies like a room of people shouting “Baambbooo Toooothbrush”.

Backed up by Matt on keys once more, the lyrics of ‘Life’ embody that Beans On Toast brand of optimism I leave each show with

Beans could never go wrong in starting a sentence with “I have a lot of ‘F*** You Donald Trump’ songs…” and the audience was certainly receptive to such a notion (fair play, Exe). Jay was referring to Trump’s public statements essentially “slagging off” the National Health Service last year. ‘Homerton Hospital’ (A Bird in the Hand, 2018) isn’t what a protest song might’ve sounded like earlier in Beans’ discography (no swearing for one thing) , but it does the job for sure. With the crowd chanting “N-H-S! N-H-S! N-H-S!” from the left side of the auditorium, the track praises multiculturalism in Britain and not just the doctors and nurses, but everyone involved in the health system on the day-to-day basis. All of them are, of course, champions and Jay’s song certainly makes the perfect anti-Trump anthem on the matter.

I think Beans can be best understood by ‘Life’ (Fishing for a Thank You, 2012). Jumping, barefoot, from the stage and into the crowd, the audience formed a circle – “this’d be really good for a fight… but we won’t” said Jay. Backed up by Matt on keys once more, the lyrics of ‘Life’ embody that Beans On Toast brand of optimism I leave each show with. In a world that is can seem so desperate to sensationalise and scare us, Beans’ lyrics speak to a poignant gratitude that we need now more than ever. On the parameters of the circle, I am reminded of my own lucky position to love and be loved. Walking home that night, pottering along Sidwell Street, everything seems a little less dire. A little less strained. Thank you to everyone involved in pulling off another great night for live music. You’ve done it again, Jay. ‘Til next time.

Live Review: Vampire Weekend @ Islington Assembly Hall

In anticipation of their upcoming album Father of the Bride, Vampire Weekend played ‘Three Little London Shows’, and my friend and I were two of 800 lucky people who waited in London’s Islington Assembly Hall to see one of indie music’s most influential bands. Glorified rehearsals they may have been, but they gave the opportunity for fans to interact with the band in an intimate setting, while the band themselves were cheerful and raring to go.

This was Vampire Weekend’s first non-festival return to Britain for nearly 6 years, featuring both a new lineup and style with guitarist Brian Robert Jones, multi-instrumentalist Greta Morgan, pianist Will Canzoneri and drummer Garrett Ray filling in for Rostam Batmanglij, who left the band in 2016 to pursue his solo career. As a result, the songs were longer, looser, and more surprising.

The band opened with their new single ‘Sunflower’; though an upbeat, poppy, unmistakeably Vampire Weekend song in the studio, it transformed into a monster on the stage. Its extended guitar riff gave way to an intense psychedelic rock jam, which Brian Robert Jones’ infectious energy carried, and its message was clear: this is a new Vampire Weekend.

the songs were longer, looser, and more surprising

For the next 90 minutes, the band blazed through hit after hit, with fan favourites like ‘Ottoman’ and ‘M79’ slotted between, and an incredible funk rock rendition of Ezra Koenig’s collaboration with SBTRKT, ‘New Dorp. New York’. Frontman Koenig began to get chattier as the show went on, going from thanking the fans to pointing out the coincidentally named twentytwentyone store right next to the venue. ‘2021’ itself was a humorous affair as people began to sit on each other’s shoulders, while Koenig sang the song through a talkbox, admitting they were still trying to figure out how to play the song live.

However, the highlight of the concert was easily the last few songs, as they closed the main set with a moving performance of the deep cut ‘I Think Ur A Contra’. When they returned for an encore, an audience member shouted for the band to play ‘Diplomat’s Son’. Koenig replied that they hadn’t reworked the song for their tour and that it didn’t allow for the band to jam, but eventually relented to the crowd. The band asked everyone to chant the beat of the song, but we were singing the words back passionately once the vocals came in. Koenig even sang Batmanglij’s part of the bridge, before interpolating The Clash’s ‘Pressure Drop’ midway through ‘Diplomat’s Son’. Vampire Weekend then finished the gig with a cover of Bruce Springsteen’s ‘I’m Goin’ Down’, which they had not played in ten years, and as is tradition, ‘Walcott’.

Vampire Weekend have transformed themselves into an unpredictable, engaging live act

Seeing Vampire Weekend at such an intimate concert was a magical, once in a lifetime experience, and their energy and confidence was unparalleled. Vampire Weekend have transformed themselves into an unpredictable, engaging live act with the will to experiment, and I can guarantee they will display these qualities no matter the size of the venue. Despite my disappointment upon first hearing ‘Harmony Hall’, seeing the band perform allowed me to fully appreciate their new style – Father of the Bride remains my most anticipated album of the year.

Live Review: The 1975 @ Westpoint, Exeter

“Rock and roll is dead, God bless The 1975,” flash the LED screens as the band finish playing ‘Sex’, the final song of the night. Only bands of the biggest ego could make such a claim, and it is frontman Matty Healy’s flamboyant, ineffable charisma that allows them to own the statement.

God knows why one of Britain’s biggest bands decided to play in a barn on a farm, but it led to a much more intimate show than others they have played on this tour (they played London’s O2 Arena only a couple days before). Fans camped outside the venue the night before, and the excitement was palpable.

The 1975 brought label-mates No Rome and Pale Waves on tour with them as opening acts, who provided upbeat pop music to get the crowd warmed up for them. No Rome played the songs off his debut EP RIP Indo Hisashi and rapped on a couple of unreleased tracks, while Pale Waves threatened to steal the show with their glossy guitar pop. By the time they had reached the end of their set, debut single ‘There’s A Honey’ was received by an ecstatic crowd, showing how much the band have developed their live act in the last two years of touring.

Pale Waves threatened to steal the show with their glossy guitar pop

However, the biggest cheer was reserved for The 1975 themselves, as they took the stage during the third iteration of their self-titled intro song, before segueing into ‘Give Yourself A Try’. The band proceeded to play hit after hit in front of a backdrop of neon rectangles and a screen conceptualised by Healy himself. A treadmill was used for ‘Sincerity Is Scary’ as Healy donned a beanie to emulate the music video, and backup dancers The Jay Twins took centre stage on ‘It’s Not Living (If It’s Not With You)’. Midway through the set, No Rome even returned for ‘Narcissist’, his collaboration with The 1975.

the biggest cheer was reserved for The 1975 themselves

After this, the show began to take on a more personal tone, with Healy addressing the audience between songs, directing ‘A Change Of Heart’ as a love song for all the men in the audience, and dedicating ‘Robbers’ to the fans in the most emotional segment of the night. Deep cut ‘The Ballad Of Me And My Brain’ was a standout moment with its erratic instrumentation and visuals, and fans of the band’s older material were in for a treat when they played the atmospheric ‘fallingforyou’ and ‘Undo’. The band even took a huge risk by playing ‘How to Draw / Petrichor’ mid-set, which morphed from an ambient song into pulsating drum and bass, and managed to hold the attention of a fair amount of the audience.

The pace of the concert began to pick up again once the band resumed playing their hits – ‘Somebody Else’ and ‘Girls’ had the whole crowd (including parents and boyfriends) moving and singing along, and Britpop closer ‘I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes)’ was an anthemic, phones-in-the-air moment (interestingly enough, Oasis played this very same venue 22 years ago).

Britpop closer ‘I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes)’ was an anthemic phones-in-the-air moment

When the lights returned signalling an encore, Healy was alone on the stage with an acoustic guitar, and proceeded to lead the audience into a heartfelt rendition of ‘Be My Mistake’, though many fans found themselves smirking at the lyrics of the song. The best was saved for last, however, as the re-energised crowd shouted along to every word of ‘Love It If We Made It’, and danced wildly to the guitar solo of ‘The Sound’. By the end of ‘Sex’, it was clear nearly everyone was exhausted, yet impressed and thoroughly satisfied.

It is a testament to The 1975’s live show that they managed to engage the audience so well, despite missing out hits such as ‘Heart Out’ and ‘Love Me’ that have previously been staples of their live set. The band looks happier than ever since Healy’s rehabilitation, and it is undeniable they have reached a new career peak. With a new album coming out soon and a headlining slot at this year’s Reading and Leeds, it seems that the only way for The 1975 is up.

Live Review: Hobo Johnson & the Lovemakers @ Bristol O2

Bristol is the waviest city in England, and home to a large portion of its freaks. On Saturday 22 January, every single beautiful one, of the hundreds who showed up to the O2 Academy to see Hobo Johnson, came dressed to play. Even the guy in his leaver’s hoodie. At a gig. Imagine. All over the room, nose rings, tattoos, freaky clothes and haircuts of all shaves and sizes, in every colour, were wedged in like funky crayons.

I placed myself under an O2 Priority poster saying “Our time here is like a drop in the ocean. Breathe it all in.” and from under this corporate advert for drowning I watched the gig unfold.

The bass rattles the room, and the warm-up act – neon mushroom Oliver Tree – speeds on stage on a scooter followed by his band. These guys are weird. Tree looks like a Gallagher brother after a psychedelic breakdown, fluorescent and rocking a bizarre bowl cut that works great on stage but makes you worry that he still has that hair once the gig is over. His guitarist is like a shaggy Ron Weasley and the drummer is already freaking out over the cymbals. The energy is infectious. The crowd is bouncing in feral waves as they launch into some of their best know songs ‘All that’ and ‘Alien Boy’. When ‘Movement’ starts, the lanky kid in front of me who smells of stale smoke pulls out his gun fingers. Christ knows how he got those through security.

the lanky kid in front of me pulls out his gun fingers… Christ knows how he got those through security

Tree is doing a new dance move every minute and a fresh cheer goes up with each one. These are some seriously weird shapes he’s cutting, he looks like one of The Teletubbies being electrocuted. Miraculously he maintains the energy throughout his set and the crowd barely stops either, even during the slower songs, and as he comes to the end with his best-known number ‘When I’m Down’ everyone watching is jittering and the stage lights blare wild colours. The sound man is spasming behind the deck trying to keep up in a frenzy of hands. Tree has delivered a performance worthy of a headline set, and the chatter among the audience buzzes with hope that the main act will exceed it.

A half hour lull follows where nobody dares to move and the excitement builds again as the sound techs finish rearranging the stage. Suddenly Hobo Johnson’s voice is monologuing, and one band member appears and takes up the keyboard. Then the man himself is running on stage to furious screams and yelling out ‘DeMarcus Cousins and Ashley’. He’s dressed for the beach, barefoot and baggy shirt with tight shorts that end below the knee, like he’s back in California. Maybe he’s yet to adjust to the British winter, or maybe he’s very sensible; we passed sweaty in here an hour ago. He raps flawlessly and knows how to play the crowd. He’s expressive, running mad circles over the stage, resonating with the crowd’s cheers, whipping them up into peaks like meringue.

He raps flawlessly and knows how to play the crowd

Two songs later, he rallies the noise and ‘Space Jam’ starts blaring as he introduces his lineup: “And here come the lovemakers! – y’all ready for this?” The band barrel on – the drummer looks exactly like an Irish guy called John I once met – and they charge into ‘Romeo and Juliet’, one of their best, performed perfectly. Yet as the show rolls into its middle, one fact becomes unfortunately plain: Hobo Johnson’s only album on Spotify, The Rise of Hobo Johnson, is only 28 minutes long.

one fact becomes unfortunately plain: Hobo Johnson’s only album on Spotify is only 28 minutes long

Accordingly they fill the middle with talking, songs from his unknown 94 Corolla album, and straight poetry. Johnson has always been clear that he is not a rapper but a poet, yet the crowd don’t seem to know. It is uncomfortable to hear him getting quieter, monologuing and freestyling his poetry, while the crowd’s chatter gets louder and more disruptive. Thankfully as the songs resume and Hobo pauses on the lyric “I’m still waiting for bras to be thrown on stage”, a lacy black number flies out of the crowd. He takes it in his stride, wearing it proudly round his neck as a push-up tie, and a minute after, a girl launches some paper on stage with a shriek of “I wrote you some poetry!” By this point everyone is back on board and the redhead in front of me is vibrating her head at 100rpm. They finish, of course, with ‘Peach Scone’ and the crowd go mad. All the energy is collected and concentrated into 3 minutes of bodies swaying like wheat in a windstorm, and the gig is over and we’re back out in the cold, weed-smelling night air.

Bristol is the waviest city in England, and home to a large portion of its freaks. Tonight, they were treated to a freakshow by two of their own; a weirdo and a hobo. And it was glorious. I should finish with Oliver Tree’s parting words, because they sketch the gig in fine detail: “No matter how weird you look, you are beautiful”. Trite, perhaps, but I love it. And so did Bristol.

Live Review: Nick Mulvey @ the Phoenix, Exeter

With his kaleidoscopic Wake Up Now album cover behind him on the stage, perhaps resembling an intricate guitar tablature or the inter-connectivity between himself and his audience, Mulvey experiments in combining two sets by dot-to-dotting from various
albums.

Mulvey experiments in combining two sets by dot-to-dotting from various albums

Taking to the stage as a lone singer-songwriter again during this tour, as he did so with his debut album, First Mind, Mulvey’s bare talent is ‘Making honey from my darkness (In Your Hands)’. This happens before he even plays, asking the audience ‘How are you?’ as the lighting warms alongside his down-to-earth personality, living up to his “paint the earth on me” command in his opener ‘We Are Never Apart’; this song unravels his devastation of a destructed environment used for profit in the Standing Rock anti-oil pipeline protests.

Likewise, the entire set is about searching deep into the roots of the earth, taking inspiration from Zen Buddhism to find peace and understanding. Yet, using lo-fi lyrics, Mulvey accepts not everything can be comprehended, blurring some concepts into sound images and patterns. ‘The Doing Is Done’ reiterates this as he lyrically explores themes of identity by questioning “how many makers in the one?”, and using images of lineage such as “a mother made by her son”. He leaves this question unanswered by embracing holism as something that is simply “done” in the “doing”.

Mulvey’s second album Wake Up Now makes literal of its title with a sense of awakening; yet this is still light, evoking joy, mimicking waking up from hibernation amidst a ‘Mountain to Move’; a slow transition from recorded album to live performance. This is a startling, anthem-like song, which is likely why he selected it as his climactic piece, leaving the audience to walk out with a similar energetic resonance.

Despite this, Mulvey still enraptures a sense of self-enlightenment throughout the entire set, as reflected in the concept of time being something to move in this song: a projection of the internal mind into a contained space. For instance, as ‘Myela’ interweaves refugee stories, splitting “another million desperate souls” into some personally infused tales; yet he lightens this with exotic, African inspired beats and guitar finger work, and with the heart-
warming vernacular “I am your neighbour, you are my neighbour”. These lyrics are particularly infused within the In Your Hands tour, as Mulvey himself and the audience’s presence alone are enough to fill even the non-major cities – including Exeter. Alongside these lines, Mulvey uses an echo effect to create the full call and response impact of a neighbourly answer to his statement. Split seconds after finishing ‘Myela’ there is a lingering silence from the audience, preceding an applause, taking them by surprise as they are left longing for more.

‘Myela’ interweaves refugee stories splitting “another million desperate souls” into some personally infused tales

Mulvey’s more contained, intimate ballads are still exposed within the space and community he creates. ‘Unconditional’ deconstructs the meaning to the word like a finger-picked chord, yet in a humble way, with its meaning to him as something “Uncontainable/Nowhere you can hide”. This line is perhaps also an allusion to his interaction with the audience, where the lights flash to those watching above from the balcony. For this particular song he tells us, beforehand, the story behind the chord
structure and working his way up the frets to find different progressions; this again reminds us of Mulvey’s use of shapes, in this case being horizontal ones across the fingerboard.

Following the prevalent theme of inter-connectivity, Mulvey explains his three connected pieces; “like a painter with one view”, he tells us as they all contain the same structure. One of which he plays is ‘Transform Your Game (We Remain)’ that took inspiration from watching the sun drip into the ocean at a beach in Mexico forming what he refers to as a “cosmic situation”. During the second half of the set, Mulvey converts to an electric guitar for the denser texture and building tension to ‘Juramidam’ and to mimic the inspiration of the storm, which he briefly discuses by telling us he strummed his guitar as a conversation with the thunder, behind ‘Imogen’. In ‘Juramidam’, Mulvey introduces new lyrics and feeds key phrases for the audience to carry on repeating them, then inverts them. This creates a hypnotic arousal as the chanting becomes like sight-reading, perhaps similar to how Mulvey himself answered storm Imogen with his guitar.

As through the lens of his own kaleidoscope, Mulvey’s gig is a complex mixture, awash with stormy muses, stripped-back songs, intimate inspirations; a true conservatory piece, Mulvey builds a close setting where he can be wholly open with his crowd. Hiding nothing, he is the lucid musician – at one with nature and, indeed, his neighbour.

Live Review: Pale Waves @ the O2 Academy Bristol

On the 3^rd of October Pale Waves ended the UK leg of their tour at the O2 Academy in Bristol. Before even entering the venue, it was clearly going to be an auspicious event. The O2 Priority line was overflowed with keen young fans: a large group held bouquets of roses, and many were dressed to match the band’s gothic aesthetic. When lead singer Heather Baron Gracie conspicuously walked right through the centre of the queues to the front of the box office, clear plastic shopping bag in hand, a flutter of teenagers waved and murmured.

Despite such promises above of a brilliant event, I must admit that the show kicked off in a bizarre fashion. The first supporting act, King Nun, stormed the stage dressed in tattered white t shirts, confronting the audience with shrieking guitars and cocksure swagger. At their best, during songs such as ‘Family Portrait’, they had a vibrant young energy, proving themselves to be a melodic group with lots of potential. During more bewildering moments, the lead singer jumped around, howling wannabe headbangers to a group of head-nodders.

Following King Nun, a more toned down, understated quartet came on stage. All dressed in black, their hair a Cobain-esque blonde. Bristolian band Swimming Girls, led by the phenomenal Vanessa Giménez, gifted us with dark, sultry dream pop. Giménez is a talented lead singer with a deep, smokey voice. At one point, she was the only member of the band onstage, armed solely with a guitar and an exceptional ballad. Swimming Girls reminds you the significance of supporting acts: sometimes, you come out of a concert not only with memories of the headlining act, but with thoughts of a new band for you to look up and obsess over.

you come out of a concert not only with memories of the headlining act but with thoughts of a new band to obsess over

After the stage was completely cleared by roadies, the lightings changed. Synth keys played in an eerie manner. Tension brewed among the crowd. Onstage walked lead guitarist Hugo Silvani, bass player Chris Woods, drummer Ciara Doran, and lead singer Heather Baron Gracie. Ciara and Heather were made up like strikingly beautiful porcelain dolls: their eye make up smoked like a gun, and their lips as dark as their lyrics.

There was a triumphant roar in their presence, brought to crescendo by the opening chords of ‘Television Romance’, one of their most popular songs, during which the fans started throwing roses at Heather’s feet. Queen of her stage, she smiled and thanked them for the roses. The vocal and musical performances were strong; if anything, there was perhaps more energy in the live performance than on the album itself, as songs were embellished by Heather’s showmanship. During songs such as ‘Red’ and ‘Noises’, she moved as though galvanised by strobe lights, somewhere between Michael Jackson and a ragged puppet.

she moved as though galvanised by strobe lights, somewhere between Michael Jackson and a ragged puppet

Songs like the anthem-like ‘Eighteen’, and ‘New Years’ Eve’ amassed a chorus of voices. During ‘One More Time’, Heather stopped singing during the chorus: a sea of index fingers pointed to the sky, referencing that “one more time”, and scream the hook.

The group returned to the stage for an encore, following an agonising 5 minutes, and the show, as well as their UK tour, ended ceremoniously with a mosh pit to the sound of hit track ‘There is a Honey’. And at the end of the night, as we all shuffled out, there wasn’t a disappointed face to be seen, and it was clear that Pale Waves had met, if not succeeded, the expectations of many.

Live Review: Tom Walker @ the Lemon Grove

On Saturday 20th of October Tom Walker stopped by the Lemon Grove on our beloved campus to perform for us, before moving on to bigger British cities and his European Tour. I had the chance to interview him on the day of the concert which gave me the opportunity to compare the person with the performer, and I am glad to say that I did not notice any difference. The artist was just as humble and honest on stage as he had been while answering my questions.

The concert started with two singers performing a few of their original songs each. Sody was the first to appear and her pop style with her mix of electronic and live instruments was the perfect start to a promising night. Next, it was Maisie Peters and her more folkish songs. A very charismatic presence, she told us amusing stories on what had inspired her songs and talked to us as casually as she would have to a friend. I must admit that I have been playing her new song, “In My Head”. on a loop ever since I heard it live. These two singer-songwriters are definitely worth checking out if they are not already on your playlists.

Finally, Tom Walker walked up playing on his guitar, accompanied by his band, an instrumental version of the chorus of “Fly Away with Me”. The instruments were amplified in such a way that created a rough and raw rhythm, until it transformed into the familiar beginning of the song to which the crowd rushed to cheer and started singing along from the first word.

Right away, Tom showed us that he belonged up there, that the stage was his for the night, and that he absolutely wanted to be there. Every now and then, when he would stop singing for a bit, he would close his eyes, transported by his own performance with his guitars, and he would smile so genuinely that we could not help but do the same.

Tom showed us that the stage was his for the night and that he absolutely wanted to be there

He mixed songs we all knew with new songs that have not come out yet, such as “Walk Alone”, which appears on his debut album, What a Time to Be Alive, coming out March 2019. He revealed that this is one of the things he loves most about live shows: the opportunity to play new music to people who have yet to hear it. He also did not hesitate to share with us some quirky anecdotes on what his songs are about and his sources of inspiration. His closeness with the audience contributed to an easygoing and familiar atmosphere which made him even more enjoyable to listen to.

Despite the band accompanying all the songs, and the brightly coloured strobe lights moving around, Tom Walker remained relaxed throughout, drinking his glass of wine brought on stage by his manager Dave, and performing with passion.

At what we though was the end, we all requested “one last song” and thankfully we got two. The very last one was “Leave a Light On”, his most famous one, which he dedicated to his friend Andrew ‘who is no longer with us’, Tom confessed. He performed it with such emotion that I’m sure more than one person in the crowd must have shed a tear. Everybody sang along as loud as they could in unison, creating a moment of support and unity in this intimate and exhilarating performance.

I’m sure more than one person in the crowd must have shed a tear

Overall, the night was clearly a success for Tom Walker but also for the two artists who performed before him, with a receptive audience and a comfortable informality all along. This only made it easier to focus on the passion and emotions brought up to the beat of meaningful music that we all wanted to experience and enjoy. I am certainly looking forward to listening to all of his new songs in March and I definitely recommend seeing him perform as it gives you an insight on who Tom Walker is as a person and as a true artist. I could see how happy music makes him and it was simply beautiful to witness.