If like us you felt a massive stab of disappointment when you heard that Lily Allen was marking her return to the world of pop with a cover of Keane’s Somewhere Only We Know and then felt like slashing your wrists when you heard the delivery of the tune, which sounded even lamer than you could imagine – fear not – that appears to be just a decoy.
Because today Lily put a new song on line and she's back to her best – courting controversy with a scathing video, adding her piece to the debate that seems to be fuelling pop culture right now. See if you can spot the references to the likes of Miley Cyrus, Robin Thicke and Rihanna and laugh at Lily’s use of auto tune (which we assume is meant to be satire, after all Lily can sing rather sweetly). Some of the messages in the chorus are a little mixed , but maybe that’s to help to help the debate along. Lily by now is old and wise enough to realise that many issues in the world are shades of grey (not necessarily fifty though) and so her lyrics reflect that a little.
Well done Lily Allen. After making babies, she’s back to making music. Let's ignore the false start with the advert that we will never talk of again; she’s out of the blocks bashing down the doors of pop and taking the piss brilliantly with this one. We await the lengthy think-piece articles in the quality press (there's a strong argument here that the video is racist for example) but whilst we have a think about that, at least let's enjoy some proper pop music.
For Breaking More Waves Saturday is the day where pop and synths take over. From the folktronica of James Yuill, to the pure pop of Lily Allen, to the refined computerised beauty of Kraftwerk. If you only connect with ugly male skinny jeans indie guitar bands, then you wouldn’t want to be hanging round with Breaking More Waves today as a number of our favourite acts take to the stage.
But at first it seems like one of those ugly indie boys has put a spanner in the works. Thirty seconds into the James Yuill set in the Red Bull Transmission tent, as swishing electronics build and the bass kicks in, all we hear is the sound of silence. It’s not just a laptop malfunction, but a proper power cut. Yuill appears totally unfazed and pulls out his acoustic guitar, sits on the front of the stage and softly serenades the silent crowd unplugged. The irony in this is that there are booming sound systems all around the place and yet here is a man beguiling an audience with no amplification whatsoever. Utterly endearing and gently wonderful. Two songs later, an audience transfixed, the power is back on and the digital beats and fuzzy warped electronica slaps back in, to add sonic power to Yuills warm balladeering. We’ve said it before and we’ll say it again he’s the thinking mans Calvin Harris with Aphex Twin, New Order and Radiohead implanted in his brain. No Pins Allowed gets several people air drum machine playing and an extended Over The Hills is universally gorgeous. We’re sure we see a lad with a curly mop of hair, skinny jeans and electronic guitar skulking out of the tent.
After a disappointing non appearance by Blue Roses at the Jim Beam Bar, Little Boots is Go! bringing Thunderbird chic to the main stage. Dressed as Lady Penelope in a platinum wig and sporting a pink boa and cocktail dress Victoria Hesketh arrives on stage driving a tiny car, with the rest of her band togged up as Brains, Parker and the International Rescue crew. Little Boots set is becoming rapidly polished and professional, the electro pop of Remedy, New In Town and a cover of the Freddie Mercury song Love Kills all going down well, but sometimes it is a little too shiny and lacks a raw and undiluted quality. The best moment is when Victoria displays her more awkward geeky side, tottering undextrously over the stage in an attempt to stand on the low level speakers where she almost slips. This ungainly nerdiness is more charming than the girl who swings her arms aloft with shouts of “Let me see your hands.”
The pop revolution continues in an overblown hysterical way with Mika . Not to be out done by Little Boots, Mika sports an astronauts costume, and adds dancing Stormtroopers and a meteor shower, or rather someone wearing a shower curtain with meteors stuck on it. With silver balloons unleashed into the crowd Mika knows how to entertain the masses for sure. From the Elton John vs. Billy Joel orgy of next single Blame It On The Girls to old songs such as Grace Kelly, Mika struts and preens his way around the stage, his voice sounding like Leo Sayer in a whorehouse. His music is as camp as canvas and as nauseating as a bucket of sick, but we salute the man for at least knowing when irritation turns to absolute annoyance and exiting the stage before we have to abandon the no guns on site rule.
Today the crown of pop is presented to Lily Allen. “I’m Barbarella or Lily Alien,” she announces with a charming giggle. Dressed in a revealing backless white dress / leotard affair with a split down the front and silver tassels stuck around the bottom. Allen commands the stage in a way we have never seen her do so before. Puffing at her “theatrical cigarette,” for the jazzy He Wasn’t There and dancing wildly for a cover of Britney Spears Womaniser, Allen appears self assured, confident and a complete pop star. The last time we saw Lily she meandered around the stage looking like a vacant lost girl. Today she knows exactly who the star is and she shines brightly. Getting everyone to put their fingers in the air for F**k You she explains that the song was originally about the BNP, but then it was changed to be about George W Bush. “Who’s still a c**t, but not as powerful.” We never thought we would say it, but Lily Allen is starting to turn into a half decent live act.
With the nu rave scene now being almost old grave, Klaxons find themselves in a difficult position. It’s been three years since their Mercury winning debut hit the streets. Since then there have been tales of shelved recording sessions and the ‘difficult’ second album has become a massive understatement. So when the band launch into Atlantis To Interzone as their opening song there are mixed emotions. One, it’s good to have Klaxons back. Two they are starting with a song that we first heard in its demo form about four years ago. Are they really in so much turmoil that they haven’t moved on at all ? Luckily as the set develops this crisis call lessens. They play a bomb of new songs that are edgy, angry and apocalyptic, mixing dance and rock synergies. Some are as heavy as Manuel Uribe and then some. The crowd go utterly mental and as Jamie Reynolds announces “From where I’m standing - front to back mayhem - thank you !” you begin to realise that as the band sing themselves, it’s not over yet.
But it gets better. After Underworld warm the crowd up with a DJ set, it’s time for one of the most seminal bands in the world - Kraftwerk. Starting behind a curtained screen, four shadow silhouettes of motionless men standing at laptops / keyboards are projected from dull red light. The curtains part and there they are. Motionless, expressionless, staring straight ahead. One of the most visionary bands of all time. The electronic minimalist rhythms begin to pulse across the arena and Bestivals main stage becomes one mammoth industrial dance floor. Kraftwerk deconstruct every rule of live performance, ripping up the rock rule book and instead create their own elegant space. The band never look at each other, never talk to the crowd, never even move, communicating only through the music, playing one classic track after another. From Tour De France, The Model to Autobahn Kraftwerk find romance in the most unlikely subjects and soundscapes. And as the main set comes to an end the curtains close only to open again to find the band gone, replaced at their workstations by robots for We Are The Robots. Kraftwerk was one of the most anticipated performances at Bestival 2009 and it easily lived up to expectations. The coolest band in the world ? Hell yes. Absolutely inspiring.
There is of course no way that synth pop revivalists La Roux can come close to Kraftwerk, but by playing the slowed dubstep version of In For The Kill and finishing with a mass singalong to Bulletproof in the Big Top, La Roux certainly keep the night on a high. The sound may be a little on the quiet side and Ellie Jackson has yet to come out of her shell as a really engaging front woman, but with her eighties shoulder pads, and ultra quiff she certainly looks the part.
As the night goes on the outer space theme of today’s fancy dress takes on a new meaning for many punters, who really don’t know what planet they are on. The Breaking More Waves approved Casio Kids are determined that those space cadets don’t crash land just yet either, bringing their percussion heavy Hot Chip styled rhythmic dance pop to the Red Bull tent. With one of their singers looking like a camp version of Beck sporting a bow tie, much instrument swapping, songs about villages in Tanzania and wild horses, sumptuous sky high falsetto vocals and a perfect structure to their set the atmosphere feels like a very big house party. As Finn Bikjenn kicks in towards the end bodies are grooving in every direction, the place shimmering in joy and as the band finally leave the stage and the sounds of Paul Simons You Can Call Me Al start to play, Saturday night / Sunday morning has never felt so good.
The War Child Heroes album is no ordinary compilation album. Rather than a series of casts off and B sides that form the usual charity CD, War Child take a highly prescriptive approach in the formation of their releases. This approach leads to a much greater focus on the quality of the music. The concept for Heroes combines some of the greatest icons of rock music with some of the most popular contemporary artists of today. The charity asked fifteen rock greats, from U2 to Bowie to Iggy Pop to choose a song from their back catalogue and to nominate a modern act that they would most trust to create a unique interpretation of that song. The end results of these new cover versions are such that irrespective of the charitable status of the project, the album is worth buying for a significant amount of musical merit alone.
Most surprising is how some of the covers that you would expect on paper to be disasters are very good indeed. Take Duffy covering Live And Let Die; whilst at Breaking More Waves we were fans of the Duffy album, the recent screeching on previous single Rain On Your Parade left a sour taste in our mouth. Here Duffy redeems herself with Bernard Butler on production duties and his long time collaborator David McAlmont providing sweet soulful backing vocals. Her version is restrained and sultry, a torch song version of the classic.
Lily Allen also shocks with a very modern middle of the road pop version of Straight To Hell by The Clash, with Mick Jones on backing vocals. It should be a disaster, but Lily gives Joe Strummers difficult anti war lyrics a delicate sugary touch that actually makes them stand out more.
Elbow fare even better, taking Running To Stand Still by U2 and making it sound even more tender and intimate than the original. It’s worth buying the album for this song alone. Bono chose wisely. Elsewhere TV On The Radio deliver a bold mountainous electronic beat laden version of Heroes that follows neatly on from the Dear Science album whilst The Hold Steady, who let’s face it sound like a Bruce Springsteen covers band, get to cover The Boss on Atlantic City.
There are very few duffers on the album. Hot Chips minimal electro calypso of Transmission will probably be hated by most Ian Curtis fans, but one track out of fifteen isn’t bad.
It would seem almost a disservice to review a charity album and give it the thumbs down. Fortunately in the case of War Child Heroes there is no need to do such a thing. Rather than going out this Friday night and spending your spare cash on a round of drinks, buy this album, stay in, listen to it and know that you have helped provide vital funds for War Childs essential and unique work in helping children who live with the brutal effects of war.
After letting celebrity and tabloid over exposure get in the way of what brought her to our attention in the first place, Lily Allen gets back to being a pop star. And she’s not half bad at it either.
It’s Not Me, It’s You sees Allen back with twelve new tracks that take on a glossed pop sheen, whilst retaining her barbed incisive lyrics. Allen is vehemently now. A girl of her times who is not afraid to tackle some big subjects. From the Girls Aloud meets La Roux electro of Everyone’s At It (Drugs) to He Wasn’t There (Absent Fathers) to Fuck You (George Bush) with its keyboard introduction that melts Aussie soap theme Neighbours and Embarrassment by Madness together in a sickly sauce before bowling out a big stomping circus rant; Lily is happy to put an opinion across, even if sometimes it’s a little simplistic and obvious. George Bush is hardly a complex target after all.
Besides celebrity and bigger issues, Lily also presents several songs that show that she’s just a normal girl at heart, with concerns over relationships and the more mundane. Chinese sees Lily sing of beans on toast, cups of tea, walking the dog and Chinese takeaways, whilst Who’d Have Known is touching in its description of the giddy and desperate awkward excitement of the beginnings of a relationship. “And even though it’s moving forward, there’s just the right amount of awkward,” she coos, before adding gleefully “And today you accidentally called me baby.” It’s an engaging and warm song that makes you want to like Lily a lot, even if the chorus is a direct rip off of Take That’s Shine.
The best thing about It’s Not Me It’s You however is that despite continuing to use the F word on several tracks, the delivery is more sophisticated than its predecessor. From the cover art where Lily looks relaxed and dressed up, rather than the cocky “let’s ‘av it” look on Alright Still, to the clear tone vocals which are less market trader street lass and more gratifying and sweetly sung; Allen has improved. In terms of overall sound, the songs here have a reasonably big similarity with Saint Etienne in their more electronic mode and the now long forgotten Dubstar. Songs that work well in the studio, and on the stereo but will never massively move or excite live.
For those who dislike pure pop music, you will find no pleasure here. However for those who think that The Fear is the best song of the year so far and find excitement in the short passing kiss of such songs whilst they last, It’s Not Me, It’s You is worth your money.
