Sunday, May 29, 2005

It's been too long since the last post. I've been very busy with Unit (rehearsing, performing and recording - see http://www.unit-hq.com for all the live dates around London in the next few weeks). Luckily, I've still found time to seek out some new sounds...

Electrelane - Axes

I have a slightly tricky relationship with Electrelane (on a band/audience level - I don't know them personally, despite having attended the same University as two members). John Kell and I hit an impasse over the merits of their previous album, 'The Power Out'. I concede perhaps that I overstated its case a little. By virtue of being released very early in the year, and on the same day as the somewhat disappointing Lambchop double-set, I experienced that familiar rush of hearing the first really good release of the year. Still, listening to it again a couple of weeks ago, I still liked it. Its motorik propulsions are infectious, and best of all are its experiments with choral vocal arrangements. Electrelane repeat that trick on the best tracks here, once again benefitting from Steve Albini's thoughtfully understated production duties, although the bulk of the album is this time instrumental. This means that there's much less of Verity Susman's shaky vocals, but still a great deal of the heavily krautrock inspired grooves. By this stage, it is starting to appear less like a distinctive, carefully defined sound, and more like a straightjacket for a band too tentative to veer beyond its natural limitations.

Still, when it works, it's excellent. 'The Bells' is driving and relentless, and brings with it the welcome domination of the piano, with aggressive, dissonant chords hammered out relentlessly. Even better is the following 'Two For Joy', which is carried off on a wave of glorious harmony and is one of the best things Electrelane have recorded to date. Later on in the album, they completely abandon their standard pace and feel for a more melancholy and stately arrangement on 'I Keep Losing Heart', which definitely hints at better things to come.

Elsewhere, however, there are significant problems. More than once, 'Axes' veers into the realms of abstraction with what, to my ears, are slightly uncomfortable results. They may have been listening to the likes of Sun Ra or John Coltrane, but their improvisations are sloppy, unfocussed and lack a clear sense of direction. Their interpretation of 'The Partisan' at least benefits from being wildly different from the Leonard Cohen version which popularised the song (and which undoubtedly served as their source material), but its ramshackle noise feels like a step backwards from some of this album's more subtle moments.

It's certainly a mixed bag, but pick selectively, and there are plenty of rewards. 'Axes' seems like an appropriate name for an album that tilts precariously between a bright future and the restrictions of their immediate past.

Acoustic Ladyland - Last Chance Disco

Perhaps simply in the rush to hail Acoustic Ladyland as some sort of revolutionary saviours of British Jazz, critics have completely failed to place this album in the correct context. It is somewhat galling to see critics who have, until now, almost completely ignored that any kind of British jazz movement exists, suddenly determine that jazz will be fashionable again, simply because AC have brought a less traditional, more rock-flavoured approach to the table. The fact however remains that Acoustic Ladyland work so brilliantly because they combine their open-minded love of an extremely wide musical spectrum with their instinctive skill as jazz trained musicians. Band leader and saxophonist Pete Wareham was a former young jazz musician of the year and drummer Seb Rochford (who also leads the more subtle, equally wonderful Polar Bear, with whom Acoustic Ladyland share three members) is recognised as one of the most inventive drummers on the jazz circuit. The impressively swinging and groovy acoustic interpretations of Hendrix interpretations on debut 'Camouflage' seem to have been quickly forgotten. It actually makes much more sense to place 'Last Chance Disco' in a more familiar lineage - the jazz-rock fusion of Ian Carr's Nucleus (a British jazz act!), the swashbuckling rhythms of Tony Williams' Lifetime and the revolutionary late '60s and '70s work of Miles Davis.

Still, that doesn't diminish the incredible, visceral impact of this music, nor should it make its open-minded approach any less refreshing. One track here, the astonishing 'Om Konz' comes dedicated to both Olivier Messaien and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs - how many bands would have the audacity to do this, let alone those on the usually more parochial jazz circuit? That the track justifies the dedication is all the more impressive. Its sheer energy, off-kilter keyboards and thrillingly brash theme reveal inspirations from both modern rock and contemporary composition. Even better is 'Ludwig van Ramone', a real powerhouse of a track, with subtle interactions between Rochford's relentless drums and Tom Cawley's rhythmically acute keyboard work.

Opening with the vigorous, chaotic clutter of 'Iggy', which harks back not just to US proto-punk, but also displays a deep and thorough understanding of the blues, 'Last Chance Disco' is an overwhelming sensory assault, but it is not without subtlety. Acoustic Ladyland undertand the formative origins of all this music lie in the same classic blues form, and therefore can exploit the connections as well as the explosive clashes of style. There is real substance here as well as mastery of their chosen form. Almost in spite of this, they still toss in the throwaway the snotty, throwaway snarl of 'Perfect Bitch', the only vocal track here, and a quickfire rush that manages to incorporrate pop-punk convention and klezmer-like horn stabs. It's defiantly idiosyncratic.

'Last Chance Disco' sounds spontaneous and kinetic, as all great improvised music should. It's righteously apocalyptic, but also full of humour and good fun. Combining all these elements in a way that makes sense is no easy task, and Acoustic Ladyland have really thrown down the gauntlet here and defined their own sound. A major achievement and one of the finest albums of the year so far.

Spoon - Gimme Fiction

How can Spoon have been so criminally ignored in Britain for so long? They may not be mega-stars in the States, but they are at least looked upon favourably by the alternative press there. How many music lovers here have even heard of them? Following the marvellous 'Girls Can Tell' album and the 'Series Of Sneaks' compilation comes the long-awaited 'Gimme Fiction', another distinctively quirky, surreal and literate blast through the imagination of Britt Daniel. Is this the album to elevate Spoon's profile in the UK?

For its first half at least, it very much could be. The opening few tracks here are wonderful. 'The Beast and Dragon Adored' is laconic and resigned ('I'm going back to the water/Been landlocked for too long'), and it slouches with a considered delay. 'The Two Sides Of Monsieur Valentine' is every bit as good as its title, a real gem of quirky indie-pop, with very bizarre lyrics indeed. Even better is the lead single, 'I Turn My Camera On', with its surprisingly funky groove and falsetto vocal recalling Prince or even Steely Dan. It sounds decidedly unfashionable, yet somehow also strangely prescient.

Elsewhere, there's the propulsive, infectious 'Sister Jack' or the intriguing, distinctive 'My Mathematical Mind' which also stand out, all characterised by Britt Daniel's slightly rough-edged vocals and almost nonsensical lyrics. With songs like these, Daniel has refined all the enticing and endearing elements of the Spoon sound into something both immediate and mysterious.

The second half is unfortunately burdened by similarity. The album suddenly drifts into one-dimensional haziness, and the songs lose their focus and immediacy. It's not that the songs are bad as such, it's perhaps really more a problem of sequencing. With all the best material packed tightly together in the first half of the album, its difficult to avoid the feeling that 'Gimme Fiction' runs out of steam. The pace drops to a uniform mid-tempo feel, and much of the quirky character of the best songs becomes more muted. A shame, and something of a missed opportunity.

The Books - Lost and Safe

With 'Thought For Food' and 'The Lemon Of Pink', the Books made two of the best eletronic albums of recent years, effortlessly blending all manner of strange found sounds with traditional instrumentation and melody (the latter was liberally peppered with banjo and acoustic guitar).
'Lost and Safe' adopts a similarly restrained, hushed tone, but has been talked up as a vocal album. This statement could be perceived as misleading. There's not much in the way of melodic, conventional singing on 'Lost and Safe'. Instead, this extraordinary album manages to extend the duo's already well-worn approach by piecing together a whole spectrum of samples and human voices in a less piecemeal, more theoretical fashion. The result is a construction of a surreal narrative journey, and the printing of lyrics in the CD sleeve emphasises the primacy of the voices over the calm music.

It's an old journalistic cliche, but it makes little sense to pick out particular tracks here, although the unconventional titles of the tracks make for interesting reading by themsleves. The combined effect is slightly woozy, but also literate and compelling, occasionally even sinister. The paradox of the title is ingenious - the music here initially feels unusual, perhaps even threatening, but gradually creates its own sense of security. Less detached than its predecessors, 'Lost and Safe' is as complex, beguiling and beautiful as electronic music gets.

More reviews to come....



Wednesday, May 11, 2005

Attention Kell-Lovers!

The URL for John Kell's outstanding King of Quiet website has changed. You can now reach the same compelling content and more by visiting http://www.kingofquiet.co.uk.

A Holy Trinity

Not one, not two - but three fantastic gigs to write about!

First up was the seemingly unstoppable Mose Allison at the Pizza Express Jazz Club in Soho. Now well into his seventies, he still tours relentlessly, and is always careful to come to London for his annual stint at the charmingly intimate Pizza Express Jazz Club. Although Allison plays in the traditional piano trio format and there is plenty of improvisation within the set, those that might usually be put off by jazz should consider approaching Allison as a starting point. He is a songwriter of genius, rhyming with consummate ease and with the sharp wit of a great satirist. His conversational, rhythmic vocal inflections also add attack to crisp renditions of classics from the American songbook - from the likes of Duke Ellington (Trouble In Mind), Willie Dixon (The Seventh Son) and numerous others.

Much the same as last year, Allison played two hour long sets punctuated by a short break, his delicate piano flourises complimented neatly by Roy Babbington's precise and full bass tones, and by Paul Clarvis' fluid drumming (although the latter's bizarre facial expressions and strangely rigid posture meant he frequently resembled a Thunderbirds puppet). Although age has withered Allison's melodic command slightly (his pitch seems to drift when attempting to hold long notes), it has not compromised his phrasing and careful enunciation. Much of the pleasure of these concerts is gained from hearing his fully engaged performances of brilliant lyrics - there is never any sign of him tiring of playing these songs, many of which he must now have aired coutless times. Especially brilliant are 'Your Mind Is On Vacation' ('if talking was criminal - you'd lead a life of crime/Because your mind is on vacation but your mouth is working overtime') and 'Ever Since The World Ended' ('Ever since the world ended, I don't go out as much/People that I once befriended, just don't seem to stay in touch') with their shamelessly clever, deeply funny rhyme schemes, the latter wryly concluding 'we're better off without it anyway'. 'Everybody's Crying Mercy' is as good a state of the nation as I've heard in recent years ('everybody's crying justice, just as long as there's business first'), whilst 'Certified Senior Citizen' maintains his peculiar brand of optimism by poking fun at his increasing age.

The playing was full of subtle flourishes, although hardly innovative. That, however, was never really the point - Allison was never likely to latch on to any avant-garde bandwagon. As much a part of the tradition of popular song as the conventions of trio jazz, his playing his concise and very much in touch with its blues heritage. Much of it seemed endearingly spontaneous, particularly the conventional but fun four bar alternating solos at the end of the opening set. A highly enjoyable evening, and there does not yet seem to be any indication that Allison plans to retire, so I look forward to next year.

Mose Allison's brand of humour is full of irony and dry comment, but those who persist in arguing that music and comedy don't mix should definitely have attended this week's Unpeeled night at The Windmill in Brixton, which delivered a peerlessly entertaining line-up. Opening the night was the wonderful MJ Hibbett (see my earlier comments on the gig Unit played with MJ Hibbett and The Validators in Cambridge). Tonight, it was a solo set, focussing entirely on classic songs (which would have been huge hits in my parallel universe), and one which seemed to impress many members of the audience not familiar with the material. Hibbett's optimism remains infectious, and provocative outlook on social relations ('F**king Hippy') and politics ('Things'll Be Different When I'm In Charge' dares to offer some solutions) render him quite unique among singer-songwriters. Add this to a series of hummable melodies that seem to owe debts to skiffle and possibly even nursery rhyme and there is a winning combination. His voice has grown from a once timid, shaky foundation to a more confident projection, and seemed on especially good form this time. It all ended with a hilarious cover of 'Boom! Shake The Room', during which I embarassed myself spectacularly with some audience participation, sadly without anyone else joining in!

Up next were The Clashettes, a girl dance group who performed a brief choreographed routine to the soundtrack of 'Should I Stay Or Should I Go'. The performance was a little rough around the edges, but the enthusiasm and gusto were far more important to the overall effect than any mastery of technique. I enjoyed it simply because it's so rare to see anything like this performed in a pub venue. The Windmill promoters continue to impress with their open-minded yet thoughtful line-ups.

Initially, I didn't quite know what to make of Gary Le Strange. A grown man onstage in uncomfortably tight PVC trousers and a wealth of make-up does generally induce a rush for the nearest exit. I had to stay for a few minutes to work out whether or not he was serious. Actually, his parody of 80s electro-pop and nu-romantic glamour was acutely observed and overpoweringly funny, particularly on what may have been called 'Is My Toaster Sentient?' ('if not, then why did it give Mr. Kettle a kiss'). Seemingly both afraid and entranced by modern technology, Le Strange sang 'in character', delivering a bountiful selection of similarly ridiculous, occasionally entirely nonsensical songs. He performed to backing track, but with absolutely no shame whatsoever, he oversang with zealous enthusiasm and jumped energetically all over the place. Splendid.

Bringing the night to a fun conclusion were Mitch Benn and The Distractions. Benn composes and performs the music for a number of Radio 4 shows, most notably the satirial Now Show. He bears a remarkable resemblance to Bill Bailey, and speaks with a similar rapid-fire tongue, his whole set grafted together by a series of impeccably timed association links. Hardly anyone escapes his remorseless parodying - his guitar effects unit enables a scarily accurate impression of the trademark U2 sound, and there is a brilliant analysis of the shortcomings of both Colplay themselves, and their current legion of imitators ('everyone sounds like Coldplay now'). His girl backing band are tremendously well-rehearsed and they create a pretty impressive sound for a line-up of guitar, bass and electronic drums, although the bassist occasionally switches to keyboards. It is of course pure comedy, and it doesn't leave the same lasting impact of Hibbett's more original approach to music - but judged on the basis of its own intentions, Mitch Benn's set is a masterclass in comic timing and painfully accurate observations.

Then, the following day, John Kell and I made it out and about again - this time to the Transgressive Records night at The Barfly in Chalk Farm. Opening the night was songwriter Jeremy Warmsley, for whom I'm currently playing drums in his side-project Correspondent.
I wrote quite critically about Jeremy's last gig, despite being an admirer of his angular yet immediate brand of songwriting. This gig seemed altogether more confident, and was mercifully free from the sound problems that marred the show at The Marquee. Without being soaked in reverb, Jeremy's voice sounds unusual and full of character, and his singing seemed both more powerful and more controlled than on previous occasions. He seemed to connect a little better with the crowd too - no jokes or anything, but some between song announcements and a less aloof performance seemed to win people over. We'll certainly be hearing a lot more from him - his debut single is out on Exercise 1 in June, and it looks like there will be another release on Transgressive later in the year.

Next up were the utterly brilliant The Pipettes, who clearly know the value of good old fashioned entertainment. They are shamelessly retro - looking back to doo-wop and the classic girl pop groups of the late fifties and early sixties. Yet, in itself, this is such a refreshing concept - especially when most of today's next big things seem incapable of realising that pop music did exist before 1977. The Pipettes themselves are three exceptionally pretty girls, who sing of boys and high school proms whilst throwing shapes and grinning gleefully. They are backed by The Cassettes, who wear matching shirt and tank-top combos. The songs are incredibly compact - but still manage to contain joy and pain in equal amount. Quite simply, with songs like 'Your Kisses Are Wasted On Me', 'Judy' and 'I Like A Man In Uniform', they are great fun. My new favourite band.

How to follow that? Well, Duels at least have a reasonable stab at it. They seem to be harking back to the same combination of disco rhythms and punk energy that has fuelled the likes of Franz Ferdinand but are characterised by intensity and aggression rather than the urge to make people dance. They are certainly energised, and make effective use of some clever vocal harmonies. Their songs also seem intricate and twisting, and whilst they tend to fit a loud-quiet template, they mostly avoid cliches. Ones to watch.

I enjoyed The Young Knives as well, albeit to a lesser extent. I was perhaps a little agnostic about their somewhat relentless assault on the senses. They are a peculiar looking band - in school tie and jacket, the singer closely resembles Angus Young from AC/DC (possibly intentionally), and as the band themselves remark, the bass player and co-vocalist is basically a 'fat Timmy Mallett'. They have some spiky, imposing songs too, although their tendency to bellow them all at full throttle did become a little tiresome towards the end of the set. Many of the songs had bizarre and inconsistent lyrics - occasionally inspired but also frustrating. With a little more subtlety incorporated into their approach, they might well become more distinctive.

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Election Fever

Well thank God it's almost over. This has been a thoroughly tiresome election campaign. It's depressing that the only realistic choice is between Michael Howard's exploitative, manipulative and undeserving Tory party and another four years of Tony Blair's complacent and untrustworthy Labour administration. The polls continue to indicate that this will be a tighter contest than in 2001 but with a low turnout expected, it's hard to see how the Tories will make sufficient gains to depose Labour (I'm prepared to eat my words should the result surprise me).

In my own constituency, it is a close run affair between Labour and the Liberal Democrats, and a vote for the latter cannot be seen simply as a wasted protest vote. On matters of principle, the Lib Dems seem to have identified all the critical issues - basic civil liberties, the need for progressive taxation, student fees, Iraq and trust in government, and have adopted a convincing position on all of them. I'm slightly disappointed that they were caught napping over the inherent ambiguities in their proposal for a local income tax, as the council tax is regressive, unfair and in urgent need of reform.

They oppose the introduction of ID cards - which I oppose for a number of reasons, one of the crucial points being that many technology experts believe that biometic technology cannot achieve what Blunkett argued passionately that it could. As a means of deterring or netting terrorists, ID cards are likely to be of minimal use. What Blunkett really proposed (and Clark has not yet done anything to alter) is for the complete control of individual identity to be handed to the state. It might sound like a conspiracy theory - but I can imagine these cards creating a situation where someone is actually unable to prove their own identity. Technology systems have failed before, with humiliating consequences. Not only this - they will act as an 'entitlement' card necessary before you can gain access to essential public services. Call me an idealist if you will, but I would feel extremely uncomfortable if we introduce a system where people are denied emergency medical treatment, be they genuine citizens or illegal immigrants.

There are therefore a series of principles and values underpinning the Liberal Democrat campaign - fairness, tolerance, honesty and liberty. None of these are intrinsically objectionable, and I do not believe it is impossible to apply them to the practical realities of government. They may yet prove to be the true progressive alternative. It is such a shame that the media still condemn their 'woolly thinking' and claim they are not yet ready for government. Perhaps not in first-past-the-post terms, but give them a chance, and we may yet see our outdated electoral system reformed. Speaking realistically, they may not be ready for government - but they are certainly ready for opposition. Unfortunately, whilst they may make a few gains at Labour's expense, they are unlikely to take seats from the Tories and may stand to lose as much as they gain.

The other main parties offer little that is positive. Alan Milburn's Labour campaign has been almost completely devoid of ideas - the sole positive argument being Labour's economic record. All Labour can offer is hollow buzzwords such as 'choice' (I would prefer dependable quality across the board), and 'reform' (an effective euphemism for the encroachment of the private sector, efficiency drives and job losses). The Tories have yet again adopted a strategy that will appeal to a limited core vote, despite the clear failure of this strategy in 2001. Howard may well stress the hopelessly misleading conflation of asylum and immigration as a populist measure in the short term, but will he really reject the advice of Digby Jones and the CBI and impose immigration quotas when in power? It would be a bold move for any inheritor of brute Thatcherite economic values.

Actually, there is very little to divide the three parties on immigration - all propose skills assessments, Australian-style points-systems and tighter border controls. Howard's policy is distinct simply through being inhumane and unworkable. None of the parties have addressed the key issues on immigration and asylum - should we work in closer harmony with the European Union to deal with refugees and asylum seekers? In my opinion, we probably should, although Euro-sceptics would no doubt profoundly disagree and the result would most likely be a more resolute Fortress Europe. Is it actually justifiable that the growth of the British economy rests so strongly on the exploitation of immigrant labour? If we have to cover skills shortages in this country by seeking skilled labour from other countries - what impact do we have on the available skills and struggling economies of those countries? Could the perception that Britain is 'full up' be countered by a proper redistribution of wealth, population and resources? Do we have a moral duty to asylum seekers? In my opinion, we do - especially when we use the moral highground to initiate conflicts ourselves. Howard may accuse Blair of avoiding the debate - but there are many interesting questions he would naturally seek to avoid himself. It is an extremely complex issue for which the questions, let alone the answers, are not entirely clear.

It is also difficult to see how Michael Howard can deliver his essential improvements to schools, hospitals and transport, increase the number of police on the beat, and impose a cap on immigration, all whilst cutting taxes. It's difficult to know where the revenue will come from. The likely result is an even stronger drive towards further privatisation than Labour promise, even when this has had demonstrably disastrous results. Michael Howard's most witless poster has surely got to be the one that asks 'how difficult is it to keep a hospital clean'. The answer is fucking hard, actually - and it requires investment, quality staff and decent training.

I am also tired of reading in the moderate liberal, left-leaning press that Mr. Blair should not be judged on his lamentable escapade in Iraq, but rather on his domestic record. For me, the whole election hinges on the Iraq war, and the erosion of democratic, cabinet government that the whole affair symbolises. Blair and Howard should both be made to suffer for it on polling day. Even last week, Howard admitted that he would still have supported the decision to invade without a further UN resolution, even if he had been aware of the vagaries of the Attorney General's legal advice. He is in no position to preach here. Blair has manipulated so-called 'inquiries' into letting him off the hook, whilst refusing to allow an adequate investigation into the conduct of the government. The leaked memos during the past week confirm what we all knew - this was a pre-determined invasion contrived by the Bush administration to which Blair granted Britain's support at the earliest stage and for which he struggled to find legal justification. The issue then hinges on what the motivations for war were. I accept the arguments are more complex than many in the anti-war camp would like to admit - I am certainly happy that Saddam is no longer in power. However, to my mind, Blair was not motivated by a desire to liberate Iraq from tyranny, but by the impulse to secure his place in history as a victor, regardless of the volume of dissenting voices. He therefore singled out Saddam precisely because of his weakness, not because of his threat. In painting Saddam as a clear danger to Britain, he misled Parliament in a considered and deplorable manner, for which he has yet to really play an appropriate political price. It is an issue over which he should have been made to resign. It now remains to be seen whether the war has really ensured our security - the current evidence of increased insurgence in Iraq is not exactly promising, especially if it is a barometer of feeling across the Islamic world. Whatever the alternative may be, I would find it difficult to lend my support to Labour given these circumstances.

We shall see what the result brings - but it seems unlikely that the feverish campaigning of the last few weeks will have made much difference to what feels like a crushingly inevitable outcome.

Monday, May 02, 2005

Wish List

I'm a bit broke at the moment, poor old me, but here are some of the albums I would be buying if I had the funds...

Caribou - The Milk Of Human Kindness
Spoon - Gimme Fiction
The Decemberists - Picaresque
The Books - Lost and Safe
Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti - Worn Copy
Mugison - Mugimama, Is It Monkey Music?
Keith Jarrett - Radiance (damn ECM double CDs - this one will probably be over £20!)
Magnolia Electric Co. - What Comes After The Blues
Acoustic Ladyland - Last Chance Disco
Sleater-Kinney - The Woods
Quasimoto (Madlib) - The Further Adventures Of Lord Quas
Ryan Adams - Cold Roses
Smog - A River Ain't Too Much To Love
Electrelane - Axes
Stevie Wonder - A Time To Love (single is surprisingly not bad)
Stephen Malkmus - Face The Truth
John Prine - Fair And Square
Herman Dune - Not On Top


...all of which would appear to be among the year's most essential albums. Why they all have to come out within the space of a month is beyond me! No doubt we'll have a drought for the rest of the summer.
I've also just heard that not only is Kate Bush supposedly returning with a new album later in the year, but the B-52s have reformed and are back in the studio as well. Fantastic!

Bad Timing

I do love you The Windmill, I really do - but if you're going to locate your music venue a good 10 minutes walk from Brixton station, it would be really helpful if you managed to finish your gigs in time to catch the last train. On Friday, I bit the bullet and left the Major Matt Mason USA gig early, but I steadfastly stayed to the end of the Broken Family Band set on Saturday and left myself a lengthy journey home on two night buses.

The Mason gig was a bit of a mixed bag - I was both horrified and amused to see the return of the strange vertically challenged performance poet I once saw play with Hot Chip at the Spitz club (the line-up that left Alexis Taylor in an exceptionally grumpy mood, as Hot Chip took to the stage over an hour late). His screechy rhymes are bearable for about 10 minutes and, mercifully, that was about the length of his set. I then remember a band who had some pleasant harmonies, but some very dull arrangements and a girl group (who I think were called Pantsuit), who included the drummer from Schwervon! amongst their number and played a sharp, punchy set of endearing girl pop.

Matt Mason himself played an engaging solo set, full of dry humour and laconic vocalising. I was not familiar with his songs - but given the reliance on his delivery and lyrics, they were the kind of songs that, given attentive listening, reap immediate rewards. One song saw Mason sing from the perspective of a dog and was quite brilliant - a kind of slowed-down, drawling skiffle song. Later, he brought some of the members of Pantsuit on stage for a couple of numbers, but the pace remained as hazily listless as ever. An enjoyable set - but it was sadly at this point that I had to depart.

The Saturday line-up was more consistent. The opening set from The Morning People (fronted by Sam Inglis, who used to run the singer-songwriter night at The Boat Race in Cambridge, and still runs it at its new home The Man On The Moon) was wonderful. These were inspired, humorous and sharp indie-pop songs given a twist of Americana by virtue of some lovely slide and lead guitar. They also had a keyboard player who favoured the high-register, plonky one-finger keyboard lines that are infectious as hell. There were just so many fantastic songs here - a song arguing, quite convincingly, that even the achievements of minor celebrities should be recognised. Strange metaphors were in abundance, most notably on the delightful 'Rocking Horse Shit'. 'Older Women' provided a light-hearted, if probably sincere, paen to the virtues of the, erm, older woman. It certainly made me chuckle, even if it did rather steal the thunder from Chris Trigg's equaly splendid 'Older Girls', as yet unheard except by a select few. 'Guilty Pleasures' provided exactly the kind of thrill its title implied it might. This is the sort of band that deserves to be heard by more people - but will no doubt sadly remain playing a small clutch of gigs in pub backrooms. Check out their website http://www.themorningpeople.com and be sure to catch them next time they make it to a venue near you.

After that, we had the acoustic singer-songwriter Elephant Micah, who closely resembled Joel Gibb from the Hidden Cameras, but sadly lacked Joel's gift for an insistent melody. In fact, even Joel's less subtle modes of provocation would have been welcome here, as the set was so calm and meandering it proved all too easy to ignore.

Next up were Abesentee, clearly strong favourites of The Broken Family Band, as they had already filled the support slot at The 100 Club a few months ago. Nothing had changed much in their set - the two most striking elements of their act, being the girl with the peculiar retro fashion sense (huge bug glasses and cowboy hat), and the tiny frontman with an unnervingly deep voice (sounding not unlike Smog's Bill Callahan). They sounded pleasant, but only occasionally enervated enough to be truly striking, and I was unable to distinguish the words, which may have acted against them. Still, there's plenty of promise and it would seem more than likely that I might catch them again some time soon.

As for BFB, this probably won't rank among their best gigs. It wasn't as drunken and riotuous as the first of their three gigs at The Windmill that I've seen, and it certainly didn't have the hometown thrill of their Strawberry Fair performances. In fact, despite Steve Adams' apparent drunkenness, they still used the occasion as an opportunity to showcase new material, most of which seemed to start with a slow drawl and suddenly accelerate into a brisk country-punk hoedown. This harmonisation of the two most distinct elements of their sound may provide them with the refashioning of the established formula that they really need, and I thought that there was plenty of promise in songs like 'You're Like A Woman' and 'The Booze and The Drugs', even if lyrically, they seemed to be mining an already familiar seam. Talking of mining, in leaving early, John Kell was unlucky to miss a fantastically raucous interpretation of Leonard Cohen's 'Diamonds In The Mine' which proved to be the highlight of the gig for me. They then played a couple of songs that may have been new, or may have been very old (I still haven't got round to picking up a copy of 'The King Will Build A Disco') and a strangely subdued encore of 'Devil In The Details' and the beautiful 'John Belushi' (clearly now a firm fan favourite judging by the number of people singing along). They ended with 'In Yer Bedroom' and I left, hoping to just catch the last train, but actually missing it by a matter of seconds. Ho hum.