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Spiritualized. All photos by melimOi.
Alongside the massive proliferation of the traditional style camping-in-a-field-of-mud music festivals in recent years, there has also been an increase in what you might call “urban” festivals – weekends of programmed music taking place around a range of venues in a particular town or city. One such event, which has now been running since 2005 in Nottingham, and since 2007 with a broadly parallel line up which swaps over the two days in Bristol as well, is Dot to Dot . I spent the weekend at the Nottingham event, and – musical highs and lows aside – enjoyed the opportunity to check out some great and varied (yet all convenient close to one another) venues in this well-served musical city. Rock City (basement and main room), The Rescue Rooms, Stealth, The Bodega (formerly The Social), and two rooms at Nottingham Trent University on the Sunday played host to the marathon event, none of which, pleasingly, was more than a 10 minute walk from any of the other venues.
First band of the weekend (for me, once arrived in Nottingham from Cambridge and checked into our quite pleasant hotel nearby) was King Blues . Reasonable as an opening band, their ragbag mix of urch rock, skanking, ska and grime-style rapping was nevertheless a little uninspired, apart from the set highlight Anti-BNP tune. Next I made the short trip downstairs to the Rock City basement for some Scottish jerk-pop courtesy of 3-piece The Damn Shames . This was Fire Engines-ish post-punk that suffered from the lack of any outstanding tunes to give it that required boost. I only managed to last a couple of songs for inexplicable duo Iglu & Hartley ‘s downright odd take on white muscle-funk rap and cheesy 80s synths (and outfits) – early contenders for worst band of the weekend – before heading off once again to sample The Red Light Company . This was ear-friendly, likeable and accessible blog rock: interesting lyrics, tortured vocals, distinctive tunes and a slight tendency toward the epic. I wouldn’t be surprised if more is heard from this lot.
Metronomy were one of the bands that I was most looking forward to and – as is often the case – were consequently one of the biggest disappointments. Their brand of math/electro and falsetto vocals is sounding kind of dated: very similar to what Klaxons were doing a couple of years ago, but with more repetition (I spotted the same sample from ‘Blue Monday’ cropping up in at least two different tracks) and less chaotic energy. This could perhaps have been a scheduling problem: 4.00 in the afternoon is probably not the ideal time for such nu-rave fare, but nonetheless I didn’t get that buzz that I was expecting from them. I did like the glowing circles of light on their t-shirts, though… Next were Cazals , survivors of the whole “London’s Burning” / post-Libertines grot-rock scene, who seem to have moved with the musical times by morphing into a much more electro kind of proposition. After a sparky start, and their cover of Spandau Ballet’s ‘To Cut A Long Story Short’ (confirming my impression that they work working on a strongly eighties inspiration), this was a set of uplifting moments offset by the relative weakness of the lead singer’s vocal. Although it did improve as their set went on, it still didn’t quite work in combination with the forceful synths and rhythm section.
Two Gallants.
Pausing only briefly to witness the first two songs from plodding stomrock merchants The 1990s (glam rock without the remotest hint of glamour), I then pitched up for Ex Models , having found out that they were a last-minute addition to the bill, replacing listed band Team Waterpolo . These New Yorkers were the band of the weekend for me, and all the better for being unexpected. Their droning, rhythmic guitar noise was fast, hypnotic and very very loud, with newie ‘Psychosis’ being the perfect summary of their talents. Entrancing.
After this, I had a rather more satisfying encounter with Saul Williams than I’d managed the previous weekend at ATP in Minehead, courtesy of a better viewing position on the balcony at Rock City. The consummate showman, Williams and his musicians produce a hard-edged mix of p-funk, hip hop and guitar riffage, offset with elaborate costumes and rabble-rousing between-song shtick. His ‘List of Demands’ is fast becoming my personal festival anthem of the year, and he also scores points for his cover of U2′s ‘Sunday Bloody Sunday’ which succeeds – like all successful cover versions should – in making you re-evaluate the song.
Swedes Dag for Dag feature a Kate Jackson meets Nico front woman, and make an enjoyably punky racket. Their songs are interestingly dark, and the singer’s versatile vocal manages to convey different moods and reach different registers with ease. The half of their set that we caught made want to hear more, and I would recommend those of you of a Duke Spirit / Raveonettes / Howling Bells persuasion to seek them out. Chrome Hoof , resplendent in silver glittery monk habits and the occasional viking mask gave Saul Williams’ band a run for their money in the “best stagewear” stakes, and matched the ostentation of their look with equally out-there experimental and avant-garde music. With eight members on stage, and a range of instruments including bassoon, violins and saxophones, the whole thing was held together admirably by the charismatic (and energetic) singer / front woman. Veering from quite straightforward Pigbag-tinged funk to free-jazz, to dissonance and screamo, this is a band that is difficult to categorise, but makes for an extremely entertaining live experience.
After this the evening petered out a little, by dint of not making it over to The Bodega early enough to get any useable vantage point (it was rammed!) for Slow Club – a band that I have previously seen live and very much enjoyed. After this I paused only long enough to take in the initial few minutes of Bumblebeez at Stealth: it had been a long day by then, and slightly lame boy-girl rapping over DJ beats really wasn’t enough to keep me from my hotel bed.
Caribou.
Cobwebs were effectively blown away on Sunday early afternoon by openers Lovvers . Neither big nor clever, their brand of heavy slacker rock produced a sludgy, undifferentiated noise, but it somehow worked. This was followed by Jocasta Sleeps , young Scottish charmers producing the kind of earnest, heartfelt LOUDquiet tracks that a certain type of celtic band do so well (Idlewild, Snow Patrol, late period Biffy Clyro…). With an endearing line in between-song banter (sample: “These two are from Shetland, which explains the big shite beards”) this seems like a band that could possibly move on to bigger radio-friendly things.
Back to the main hall in Rock City next for the first buzz atmosphere of the day, for XX Teens . This is an enjoyable a bunch of fresh-faced Mark E Smith acolytes as you are likely to encounter, and their danceable art rock, with echoes at times of The Wedding Present, Joy Division and Clinic as well as the more obvious Fall, was deservedly well received. The aloof, straight-faced stance, and permanent wearing of shades from one of the two vocalists is probably their trademark, and although admittedly a gimmick, it is one that does make them quite memorable. Standout track, in the absence of zeitgeist-y former single ‘How To Reduce the Chances of Being a Terror Victim’ was probably ‘My Favourite Hat’.
I only caught the end of Onethousandhertz ‘s noisy screamo, then ducked into, and rapidly back out of, Peggy Sue and the Pirates ‘ set. Despite featuring two singers with beautiful voices, the tweeness combined with wackiness was definitely not to my tastes, so with so much else to potentially sample it was onwards and upwards.
Much more enjoyable were anarchic electro quirksters Fight Like Apes . Using sampled dialogue extracts, lots of synth noise, a shouty sparkly frontwoman and a manic keyboard player, their combination of sweet tunes and bitter, vengeful lyrics provided much to watch and listen to. They even lived up to their name by indulging in a bit of mid-song wrestling. Splendid. Following this, Marc Riley favourites were a little subdued. Their naïf-voiced singer backed by a band making a tight indie racket had definite charm, but I felt that it all became a little samey over the course of their half-hour set. Perhaps they need some different pacing to perk things up a little.
Caribou, purveyors of warm, folk-inflected indie wonderpop were full of an understated beauty, with their instrumental stuff as effective as the sung tracks. Their use of projected abstract images as a backdrop lent intimacy to the rather sterile environs of Trent Uni, and it was only reluctantly that I was persuaded to leave before the end of their set to try to squeeze in as many other bands as possible before the close of play.
The first of these was Cage the Elephant , who started out well with some energetic and promisingly jerky sounding noise, before rapidly, perplexingly, and disappointingly descending into southern blues-meets-soft rock. All rather tired sounding, and seemingly with nothing that new or interesting to contribute. Two Gallants still impress with their tortured-soul Western Americana, in particular with the altered yet still dramatic version of ‘Las Cruces Jail’ with which they ended their set. Twisted Wheel are youthful yet dated Libertines / lad rock wannabees who held very little interest for me, so all that remained now, two days and 20+ bands later, was to kick back and soak up a richly emotional, great big heart-on-sleeve, been-through-the-mill-and-come-out-the-other-side set from Spiritualized , featuring excellent gospel singers, a decent mix of new and older material, and a few “hairs on the back of neck” moments.
All this, and not a tent-peg or muddy field in sight. The reason this festival works as well as it does is partly down to the proximity of the venues, making it relatively easy to flit from place to place. It takes a little bit of planning and concentration to winkle out the more interesting acts amongst the kind of bands that you are likely to see most days of the week at a mid-range indie venue near you, but overall enough good musical times were had to make me keen to do it all over again next year.
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