Southsea Fest 2010 - Review

When you list famous musical cities it’s unlikely that the words Portsmouth or Southsea will crop up. Too close to London and lacking the artistic bond of Brighton, Portsmouth has always been the UK’s south-central second rate cousin in terms of music. Portsmouth may possess a small but thriving grassroots scene, the hub of which is Southsea’s Albert Road area, but the size of the place, the lack of quality small music venues (the Wedgewood Rooms excepted), combined with the lack of vision and entrepreneurial foresight of many (but not all) local bands and promoters means that Portsmouth often exists in its own little pond, where even the smallest fish can seem like a shark.

Yet last Saturday Portsmouth put itself a little more on the musical map, with the annual event that is Southsea Fest. It’s a multi-gig, multi-venue one day festival where one wristband allows access to everything. It enabled Portsmouth to look outwards as well as inwards, showcasing a significant number of up and coming national bands as well as the talent that lurks within.

There was a slow burning buzz of anticipation for Southsea Fest 2010, more so than similar events in other towns, particularly since the addition of Pulled Apart by Horses who by all accounts played a sweaty and messily fun gig at the tiny café sized Edge of The Wedge. This was a case of Portsmouth’s musical backwater status working in its favour – many of those attending were proud that Portsmouth was putting on such an event – there was no resigned ‘seen it all before attitude’ and good weather helped build the upbeat vibe. Southsea Fest had a d-i-y feel to it, staff mainly being volunteers - which led to a few venues running behind schedule - but nobody seemed to mind.

“Do you ever wake yourself up shouting at yourself?” asked Ollie from Oxford three piece Ute, beginning their lunch time slot in the Edge of the Wedge. Ute were the perfect wakeup call – complex arrangements and intricate rhythms that veered from shouty acoustic thrashes to desolate pastoral pop. Add in Ollie’s comical sense of storytelling – at one point he explained his ‘Pin-up’ labelled belt was purchased yesterday after his old one broke whilst eating pizza – and Southsea Fest delivered a pleasing start to the day.

The Edwardian elegance of the Kings Theatre, with its Italian Renaissance décor and high ceilings played host to four bands who dealt in similar sonic architecture – tunes that filled the space with their expansiveness and occasional bombast. Three of these gropus hailed from Portsmouth and its environs – but it was Londoners Revere who really excelled.

The words “All roads lead south,” sung by The Dawn Chorus seemed highly relevant for the festival. Their mix of acoustic and electric guitars, mandolin, accordion, keys, drums and a trumpet player who at one point blasted out his sound from the balcony had moments of tenderness, passion and melancholy. With a drummer who provided a rabble rousing impersonation of Frank Turner on the uplifting Carnivalesque, The Dawn Chorus filled the space of the Kings Theatre with that good old fashioned virtue of excellent musicianship.

Revere raised the stakes even higher. With their chartered accountant attire of black waistcoats and smart clothes this eight piece played incredible widescreen sculptures that built to huge crescendos like Sigur Ros with more guitars or Mogwai with more strings. Backed by projections of grey landscapes and balloons floating skywards, their music also aimed for the stars, full of sweeping strings and transcendent noise. Words such as euphoric, cinematic and majestic came to mind. This was a band who really knew how to fill the tall space, the power of The Escape Artist virtually lifting the roof off as the projections flashed up the words “Fade out of sight, step out of the light.” Powerful and masterful Revere were utterly incredible.

The B of the Bang had a virtually impossible act to follow. Thwarted by a technical hitch where a spilt bottle shorted out some equipment, the band struggled bravely on, but their sound seemed low-key after Revere. They finally hit their stride with a new song The Forest, the result being a bassy grunge-funk groove that seemed to merge 70’s Starsky & Hutch rhythms and Eye of the Tiger by Survivor into something new. Requests from the audience for the missing Alaska led to boos when it couldn’t be played because of the gremlins in the machine. “Just because we’re in a theatre doesn’t mean this is panto,” responded lead singer Chris Whitear before managing to get the electronics working so that the song could be played out.

There’s a military, chest banging, call to arms exuberance to The Strange Death of Liberal England, and this was taken one step further in the Kings Theatre, with an orchestra, marching soldier drummers parading down the aisles and air raid sirens played from the balconies. It was big, a little ridiculous and visually entertaining. Lead singer Adam Woolway’s parrot screech of a vocal was neatly juxtaposed against the bigger orchestral moments – his passionate rasp fighting solo against the orchestra on A Day Another Day, but it didn’t sit comfortably with everyone in the audience, the back rows of the stalls slowly emptying as the bands performance continued.

From the opulence of the Kings Theatre, over the road at The Loft – a grubby worn out pub, Manchester’s Cats In Paris did their very best to confound the indie kids with a set of genre bending oddness. Keyboards that sounded like rock guitars, violins thrown in from nowhere, jittery song structures and a lead singer that could do a good job as a Huw Stephens double act. Schizo-pop strangeness of the craziest order.

Run Toto Run continued the Manchester assault, although in this case it was full of darker jerky synth stabs, breathy feminine vocals and quirky but loveable song structures. Occasionally it appeared the boy-girl-boy three piece wanted to step out and make a big commercial dance-pop song, but are just a little bit more comfortable in their own non-conformity to do so. Run Toto Run are a band who have fully made the transition from sunshine folk tweeness to dark electronic pop eccentricity – the smooth sultry sounds of Out of Order and other new tracks banishing their old singles to the trash can. It will be interesting to see where they go next.

Fresh from their first ever London gig the night before Newcastle’s Let’s Buy Happiness played to a fairly small Southsea crowd. Lead singer Sarah Hall beckoned for the audience to come closer and the band won punters over with their utterly beguiling beauty. Spacious layered guitars formed soaring soundscapes with Sarah’s delicate Cocteau Twins referencing vocals caressing the ears. Let’s Buy Happiness made a compelling case for being your new favourite band with the songs Dead Legs, Six Wolves and Works Better On Paper all confirming their ability to create indie music that is graceful and elegantly ethereal.

From chiming indie to 90’s influenced synth pop, Swansea’s Bright Light Bright Light showed exactly why they’ve recently been signed to the new Virgin funded Popjustice Hi-Fi Label. Gracious melodies, gorgeous smooth vocals and hooky as hell choruses that got drunken girls dancing; they provided an exciting and welcome respite for those who found the likes of Pulled Apart by Horses just a little bit too intensely masculine. Ten out of ten for the way lead singer / keyboard player Rod Thomas assertively but politely replied to one drunk girls question of “Do you do cover versions?” He really doesn’t need to do covers when he’s got a case full of glitzy high-fiving pop monsters of his own such as Love Part II which shimmied to the dance-floor with its jubilant call of “I’m in love again.”

In a bizarre, but quite possibly brilliant piece of programming the act to follow Bright Light Bright Light was Cardiff’s Islet. With not one ounce of melody Islet charged straight into the audience with a rhythmic based core of yelping, growling, screaming and unhinged racket. How a band can be quite so rubbish and yet terrifyingly brilliant is perplexing. They really are exporters of the avant-garde and the extraordinary. Taking instruments off stage into the crowd, straining war cries off microphone, using the walls and implements of the venue as percussion to hit plus on the spot jogging, Islet blistered with energy, challenging ideas of what entertainment, art and performance are about. Who cares what the songs sound like? This is a band to experience, not sit at home and listen to.

With Islet having provided one of the most fascinating performances of the day, Southsea Fest 2010 had provided a rich tapestry of eclectic new music for a bargain price.

The B of the Bang + The Dawn Chorus @ Portsmouth Drift In The City Bar

There’s a moment just before The B of the Bang play Lung – their song about dying, where the band pause for a moment to announce that punk svengali Malcolm McLaren has died. It would have been interesting to see what McLaren would have made of this evening. He once proclaimed “It is better to be a flamboyant failure than any kind of benign success.” There’s little flamboyancy or failure tonight, although the muddy sounding speakers and sterile interior of the venue do their best attempt to doom both bands performances. Yet neither is the evening a benign success. In fact benign is a word that probably doesn’t sit comfortably with The B of the Bang, evidence being found when singer Christopher Whitear cups his hands around his mouth to yell at the chattering crowd to “Shut up,” during Last Day On Earth, which they play unamplified and acoustic from the venue floor. It makes for an almost angry anti-folk start, the band then marching forward with a rocked up set of songs taken from their debut album Beginning.Middle.End and their new tour only EP Art Deco.

It’s the new songs that impress the most tonight. The fusion of electric guitar riffs and “Ooh La La,” harmonies throughout Film Noir are almost sunny and upbeat until the song descends into an orgy of clattering noise that segues perfectly into Reykjavik 101 - a madcap math-rock workout that jives like a laptop-stripped Prodigy number. The stately First Thought of the Morning is mournful and gentle - it would probably have McLaren turning in his grave when he gets there, so full of anti-energy and downbeat melody.

The B of the Bang style – black t-shirts, ripped jeans - and sound, a mix of folk-rock with uncompromising guitars that display none of the niceness of current new country-folk kings Mumford and Sons - is deeply unfashionable. This though is probably just the way the band like it. It’s the old cliché, but they seem to be playing this for themselves and if anyone else buys into it’s a bonus.

The Dawn Chorus (pictured), who play before, are label mates and from the same musical family as The B of the Bang - distant cousins connected through Whitear playing in both groups. A double drumming, accordion, melodica, and eastern European sounding rabble, McLaren would hate them for their lack of glamour and un-punk attitude - just a bunch of lads standing on stage and playing the songs straight. However, there is something verging on exhilarating when they go hell for leather on Carnivalesque, tower like trumpets and cut-throat guitars battling away, their drummer rasping out the chorus sung on the recorded form by Frank Turner. Ironically it sounds almost gypsy-punk - Romanian Sex Pistols fans would be proud - and there’s a bit of that sentiment towards the end as well, when the whole of The B of the Bang join the stage whilst the groups trumpet player blasts brass from atop the speaker stack. Maybe Malcolm McLaren would have had a smile there.

The Dawn Chorus - The Carnival Leaves Town

Portsmouth is not particularly known as the UK’s musical hotbed of talent, innovation or creativity. The fact that the city and its surrounding environs most recent high profile output was the dreaded Same Difference says it all.

So step forward The Dawn Chorus, who with an almost single handed conviction could change the perception of Portsmouth from a musical wasteland, to somewhere with ideas, passion and a willingness to look outside of its near island insularity. The city football team may be going down the pan, but with The Carnival Leaves Town, The Dawn Chorus give Portsmouth something to be proud of again.

Having already gained the endorsement of modern folk-punk hero Frank Turner, who provides guest vocals on the bands recent zestful and uplifting single Carnivalesque, The Dawn Chorus deliver a recording that provides joyous, melancholy and heartfelt twists and turns through song writing that veers between folkish acoustic subtlety and fervently big indie rock moments. The whole thing is then liberally coated with soaring trumpets, soft accordion and even fleeting ferocious stabs of electric guitar. There’s enough here to drag you in on first listen, but also enough complexity to make successive visits even more rewarding.

The album opens with the evocative accordion based fairground sounds of Enter: The Carnival. It’s a monumental piece of gypsy stomp. Images of the freakshow, the weightlifters, the acrobats and the high-wire walkers marching through dirty south streets appear in the musical mind as seething guitars clash with Arcade Fire styled masculine chants. Then before you’ve had time to catch your breath you’re bounding headlong into the decadent ska-rock-romp of The Guilt (video below). It’s an eager start and it’s just as well that things are slowed down a little with the more gentle Pacifists for a moments reflection, otherwise we’d probably be collapsing in a heap with musical exhaustion.

Besides being a collection of charismatic indie-folk-rock songs, the album is also loosely thematic. A number of the tunes concern a storytellers love of a girl called Antoinette, a trapeze artist who performs with the carnival. The accordion makes a further appearance to provide sustenance to the intimate nightcap strum of Carnival Sound, a song that could easily have drunk grown men putting their arms around each other and crying into their pints. “I can’t stand the thought of that carnival sound, the way that old Antoinette still pulls a crowd, while I’m breaking my back to stay in the black,” lead singer Kyle mourns sadly in his not nearly as nasal but slightly flat Conor Oberst styled vocal. “How I long to get back to the way things were, before the fame came and got the best of her,” he wistfully dreams later on the closing title track. Out of these heavyhearted tales there are songs that are surprisingly likeable; it seems that from the sadness comes pleasure.

So when the carnival has gone and the album is over, the lasting impression is of a body of work that may not be particularly fashionable in its sound, but succeeds by virtue of being a genuinely impressive collection of songs. Quite a show. Three cheers.

The Dawn Chorus - The Guilt

Having already featured one UK south coast band this week here, now here’s another -The Dawn Chorus, a group we've previously written about from the live environment when playing with other bands, but never in their own right until today.

The Dawn Chorus describe themselves as being a “six piece (often seven-piece) musical collective from nowhere in particular, Hampshire, England.” It’s a pretty vague description but then if we described their music as being indie-folk-country-pop (which it is) then that would be pretty vague as well. Not that there is anything uncertain about the stance of the bands musical clout which veers between glorious rabble rousing chants that are never pretentious or overblown, to softer almost maudlin Bright Eyes-esque sounding acoustic balladry. With a debut album The Big Adventure released in 2008, 2010 finds the band returning with their second album The Carnival Leaves Town. For this release The Dawn Chorus widen their sights in terms of instrumentation with banjo, accordion and melodica being added to the mix. There is also a guest appearance from one of the most hard gigging men out there - Frank Turner on the song Carnivalesque. We’ll be bringing a full review of the album at the start of February.

For the meantime here is a video that the band have recently uploaded for one of the lead tracks from the album. The song is called The Guilt. The Guilt finds The Dawn Chorus musing on infidelity, maturity and wanting to letting yourself go, whilst a raucous shout-a-long tub-thumping blast of musical authenticity muscles the song home. Then just as it’s all getting a little too hectic, lead singer Kyle Evans pauses for reflection and sings mournfully “So here I go, I’ve just got to find something to compensate for my lack of drugs and rock n roll. Heaven knows, I‘m not proud of it.” The good boy can still do bad then.

They may be on a small independent label, but with this song The Dawn Chorus sound like a band who are prepared to fight with the big boys.

Southsea Fest 2009

Southsea Fest is modelled on events such as The Great Escape in Brighton and Swn in Cardiff but on a smaller scale. Established in 2007 the first event was held to raise funds for the promoter Josie Cutis’ younger brother, a musician, to record an album after he was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. The event has now expanded and this year took place in twelve venues with over one hundred and fifty acts performing with some profits given to charity.

An entry wristband was budget price, being the same cost as a standard gig ticket, allowing access to all venues which were situated within close proximity to each other, mainly on Albert Road in the south coast town. Unlike similar larger events such as The Great Escape there was no need to turn up at a venue early and queue to guarantee entry, wristband holders were able to freely wander between locations as they chose. At times the event resembled something more like a giant pub crawl than a music event, with bands providing a backing track for happy drunken punters roaming the street. Breaking More Waves took a more conservative approach however, remaining in one venue all day, (Little Johnny Russells) except for our surprisingly well received DJ Set early in the day under our DJ Hojo Hits guise at Cafe Citrus, where we managed to bring dubstep, synth pop, vintage rock and roll, and seventies disco to the artists VIP area.

This years event was crammed so full of bands that it is no surprise that several stages ran behind the scheduled timetable, but most punters seemed unconcerned, happy to catch whatever artist they stumbled across at any particular time. The line up for the event consisted of a number of small national bands previously featured on this blog such as Peggy Sue, The Joy Formidable, James Yuill and Alessi’s Ark as well as plenty of local artists. So to the bands we saw..

With lead singer Clym Arnold swinging from the stage balustrade till it almost collapses, diving onto the floor and his band raping your ear drums with a fistf*ck of visceral punk, The Deads mean business; and we don’t mean the kind that involves hot desking, water cooler moments and power lunches. No this is business that is primitive, brutal and likely to find you sprawled over the photocopier with a microphone stand thrust up your backside. We have no idea about the songs they play, except for a dirty cover of Helter Skelter, but finding blood gushing from our ears actually seems like fun.

The Hall Of Mirrors are about as far removed from The Deads as you can imagine. Every song is a delicate spoonful of sugar adventure of perky tunefulness. “This next song is all about love,” gushes singer Jessica Spencer and we are sure we see fairy dust sparkle from her keyboard and Mary Poppins skipping around in the background. Only at the end when she kicks back her piano stool and delivers a harsher bluesy number do things become a little more unsettling.

The keyboard remains for a short set by Loz Bridge , this time without his backing band The Box Social, who we have featured here before. Bridge produces a short, accomplished set of jazzy rootsy sounds, full of earnest musicianship with just a hint of Chris Martins more reflective moments. One for the more mature listener, his sound is better suited to a quiet theatre or lounge bar than a chatty south coast pub on a Saturday afternoon.

Little Johnny Russells fills up rapidly after Bridge finishes for the megaphone wielding Holdfast, who having recently bagged support slots with White Lies, These New Puritans and in the near future The Chapman Family. The band have developed a confident swagger as they race through their charged punkish riot of keyboard and energetic guitar laden noise with glittery dress clad singer Roberta stepping into the crowd. They may not yet have perfected any killer songs, but they have a dark raw shout about them that takes them above the level of your standard local indie no hopers.

Breaking More Waves regulars The B of the Bang have been peddling their wares for some time now and tonight feels like one of closure, songs from their debut album Beginning Middle End being performed for possibly the last time before some new material is unleashed. Lung is still a colossal beast of a song, triumphant in its sadness and set closer Alaska bristles with taught atmosphere, but their live centrepiece remains Last Day On Earth which is performed with members of The Dawn Chorus; full of soaring trumpets and men singing the words “La la la,” as if it were the most important thing in the world.

Rather like a game of tag The Dawn Chorus continue where The B of the Bang left off. The band are a menagerie of multi instrumentation and subtle tunes with heavenly trumpet fanfares that uplift and involve, and on one song the band even have a little stab at some ska which seems rudely off centre to the rest of their country tinged rock sound. Strangely endearing and glorious.

Eight piece Revere (pictured) are physically and musically too big for such a tiny stage as Southsea Fest. The band bring military jackets, waistcoats, strings and a big big sound that comes from the same musical space as bands like Broken Records and Arcade Fire. Their songs sweep and soar gloriously high, powerfully evocative and beautiful. With due respect to all of the bands that have come before them, Revere stand that much taller, that much stronger and bring the most illustrious sounds we hear all day.

After Revere ‘dirty folksters’ Billy Vincent have a tough job. A slimmed down check shirted version of the whole band, they play with just two acoustic guitars, and as the beer flows more readily you have to feel sorry for any act that really demands quiet attention.

Next up are San Francisco’s Love Like Fire who play a fairly straightforward female fronted blend of indie rock that has a vaguely early to mid nineties feel to it. The band suffer from an audience that now seems more interested in alcoholic kicks than actually listening to the music. There are hints of something epic trying to break out, but it’s a case of seen it all before with this band.

“Give me some love it’s tough up here,” announces Chris T-T. Good god the man’s right. At this point in the evening we wonder if anybody is actually interested in the music at all. Chris T-T could have probably come on stage, pissed in a pot and walked off again and nobody would have noticed. So all credit to the man who has played on the fourth plinth in Trafalgar Square for having the guts to force out his political acoustic folk rock to those who care. Breaking a guitar string after his first song, he continues a cappella, before thrashing out tunes about getting older, hunting and the wonderful Preaching To The Converted which has thrusting intensity and humour in equal measure. “Billy Braggs gone fishing in his 4 x 4,” he sings to a an audience who are drowning in lager.

At this point it doesn’t look good for James Yuill , but miraculously his beats, loops and geekoid electronic wizardry win the day. The inebriated crowd are ready to dance and the heavy beats and laptronica that Yuill produces work well. His sound mixes elements of Nick Drake, Radiohead, Aphex Twin and Calvin Harris into something that is uniquely his own. As songs such as the dreamy rotating No Surprise and the gentle bounce of This Sweet Love are played out it reminds us why we put his Turning Down Water For Air album in our Top Ten of 2008. Enchanting electronic melodies with a human side, from one of the nicest men in music make a fine way to end the evening.

The Dawn Chorus + The Melodramas + The Autons + The B Of The Bang @ Portsmouth Wedgewood Rooms

“Good music by people who care,” is the strap line for Jellymaid Music; a record label based in Portsmouth, Uk. Jellymaid specialise in supporting local artists, so it is therefore fitting that the labels first ever showcase is held in the most established music venue in their home town.

The B Of The Bang are known for their experimentation, often bringing sombre lo-fi folk and electronica to the stage. For this showcase however the group play to the Wedgewood Rooms strengths, discarding much of their acoustic sound. “I’ve broken my banjo,” announces lead singer Chris Whitear, eliciting “Ahhh’s” from the crowd before the band launch into the metallic commotion of Little Bean. It’s straightforward rock, but characterised by a very English baritone vocal and the bands need to be just a little bit different. The stage front has pieces of the bands artwork on display, there are three drummers forcing the beat along and during Lung, their most anthemic number, detuned guitars can be heard working hard to ensure that the sound never veers too far into the mainstream. There are hints from this performance that the band have the potential to find a place higher than bottom of the bill, from the singers confident but slightly awkward Bono/ Chris Martin moment of leaving the stage to embrace the crowd, to the almost sanguine sounding Delores. Whether such mainstream propriety would sit permanently comfortable with the bands ethos is questionable however.

The Autons bring ties, interesting hair and shouty indie electro punk pop of the variety that can be found in many toilet venues around Camden on a rainy Tuesday night. Be careful with the world electro though. This does not imply that Autons are part of the new rave gang, or even the Brooklyn cool kids. Their form of indie electro consists of dark buzzing guitars and hyperactive keyboard moments that blend together like The Buzzcocks and Carter USM playing British Bulldog in the playground. Nearly every snarling song rushes headlong into a frenetic sweaty refrain designed for the moshpit, although tonight with such a range of guitar based bands on display The Autons sound seems a little misplaced.

The Melodramas arrive with a bucket load of “Woah woah woah’s,” energy, floppy fringes and tambourine bashing skinny jean indie pop with their song The Day You Die. A few years ago we would have given this band a begrudging thumbs up, but right now their sound seems dated and unadventurous. It’s landfill mortgage indie, empty of any real substance or meaning. “We used to be a metal band called Slayer, but those days are behind us,” they announce. Frankly we would prefer to listen to Slayer. If you believe that great art and music is created by progressive development and the attempt to create something new and inspiring then The Melodramas will not appeal to you. If you simply want some 'nice jaunty tunes with guitars' and not an ounce of challenge then The Melodramas will be your cup of tea. Breaking More Waves seem to be in the minority with our opinion of this band though, who are clearly having fun as do most of the audience.

Frank Turners favourite new band are The Dawn Chorus , and it is easy to see why. The band may not have the coolest of looks, fashion or haircuts, but are slowly building an audience that has lead to a UK tour in April and festival slots confirmed at both Bestival and 2000 Trees later this year. The Dawn Chorus are rooted in acoustic sounds, but with songs like A Blast From The Present they add high noon trumpet fanfares and chanted harmonies to produce something that is joyously uplifting and honestly life affirming. It's ambitious, absorbing and well crafted without ever being immediately obvious. The Dawn Chorus carry commodities of good old fashioned quality playing and songs that pack a punch through careful structuring and arrangement. Their songs range from alt. country pop to bigger indie rockier numbers, but without exception every song the band plays fills the Wedgewood Rooms with a sound far removed from that of an English south coast city.