Us Brits may moan about the weather and the tax, but when it comes to live music, this tiny island is a delight. From where else in the world could we nip off to Berlin, Paris, Barcelona, Copenhagen or, er, Minehead to indulge our burning desire for live music and still scrape into work on a Monday morning? And where else could we hop between a 60,000-seat football stadium packed full of air-punching Bruce Springsteen fans and a miniscule bar where a fragile Edwyn Collins plays a secret set to 50 tearful Dundonians (and one TLOBF writer)? Eight of the site’s most obsessive gig-goers present their picks of the year’s live music. Continue Reading

This follow-up and/or sequel to 2007’s The Stage Names, sees Will Sheff and co continuing their depiction of the life, loves and general mores of a set of musicians and their adherents and hangers-on that one suspects are not a million miles removed from their actual selves.

This is the kind of detailed and intelligent lyrical fare that you would expect from this band. Leaving aside the three very brief instrumental interludes ‘Stand Ins, One’, ‘Stand Ins, Two’ and ‘Stand Ins, Three’ - largely superfluous although I guess lending a certain cinematic feel to the overall flow of the album - the themes that they pick to sing about are less remarkable than the perspective, depth and intelligence with which they are depicted.

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A decent gathering had assembled for Shearwater’s free day-after-the-night-before show at Bush Hall, and as the band retreated from their own CD browsing to compose themselves before the big entrance onto the little stage, Thor Harris asked “Are we doing casual?” For him this meant t-shirt rather than the previous night’s polka dot shirt and furry jerkin, and he thus lost some of his berserker aura – though anyone who has ever spoken to him will know what a calm and friendly sort of berserker he is (until those moments when the drums need a good seeing to that is). The rest of the group were similarly relaxed. Jonathan Meiburg however decided to grace us with his best, i.e. only, stage outfit, which he claims was still splattered with Dorset mud from their End Of The Road festival appearance. I wonder what Thomas Hardy would have made of current album Rooks’s pastoral take on prog rock. Insert pun based on famous novel title here: I’ve got nothing. Continue Reading

Photographs by Simon Leak

In a match seemingly made in TLOBF heaven, Constantines were a late addition as support act for this much-anticipated show from the former Okkervil River side project - now exclusively the preserve of Jonathan Meiburg after the amicable departure of co-founder Will Sheff. Personally though, these dirty rocking Canadians were to be a new experience and my pre-conceptions were that their thundering might jar with Shearwater’s more tempered arty emotions. Wrong on both counts actually, since Constantines offered a much more focused thrash than expected, and Shearwater can bring the house down with the best of them when their varied repertoire demands. Continue Reading

Okkervil River holds a very special place in my heart as they were the first indie band that I fell in love with. Obviously late to the party, I didn’t get involved in indie music until 2005. Okkervil River’s Black Sheep Boy absolutely blew me away, and I have been in awe of them ever since. This was my first time seeing them live, and I haven’t been so excited about a gig in quite some time. It amazes me that they aren’t bigger - they played a small 280-capacity club here, and Denver’s really not all that far from Austin. No complaint from me about the intimate setting, but still - this is a band that is criminally underappreciated.

Damien Jurado opened the show and had the majority of the crowd eating out of his hand. I haven’t been able to get into his studio material too much, but live he and his band were mesmerizing - Damien’s definitely got a flair for melancholy folk songs. Plus it was a nice change to have an attentive crowd for the opening act.

The Denver indie set had a tough decision this night, in that Conor Oberst and Bright Eyes were playing just across town at the Ogden Theater. Stiff competition notwithstanding, Okkervil River owned the packed Marquis Theater from the opening note of “Plus Ones”, weaving through highlight after highlight of new songs and old fan favorites with little distraction. The set was heavy on music and short on banter, though Sheff orchestrated a lovely “evil don’t look like anything” sing-along during “Westfall”, and I suspect “The President’s Dead” made an appearance thanks to several crowd requests.

Okkervil River’s live show accentuates all of the things that are great about this band - the fascinating lyrics, the catchy tunes, and the consistent solidity and professionalism. I tend to have a constant and nagging sense that the more shows I attend the less I’m going to appreciate the great ones. It’s both refreshing and comforting to come away from Okkervil River knowing that I was witness to something sublime.

Plus Ones
Lady Liberty
No Key, No Plan
The Latest Toughs
Red
Song Of Our So-Called Friend
A Hand To Take Hold Of The Scene
Our Life Is A Not Movie Or Maybe
Black
A Girl In Port
Unless It’s Kicks
For Real
Westfall
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A Glow (Will solo on keyboard)
The President’s Dead
Last Love Song For Now

Links
Okkervil River [official site] [myspace] [album review]