Polly Scattergood - Disco Damaged Kid

Amidst twinkling piano notes, some 70’s disco pulses and what sounds like a submarine sonar, Mute recording artist Polly Scatergood has returned with Disco Damaged Kid, a low key release as a taster for her second full length, to be released next year.

Polly’s debut album was a disturbingly vulnerable piece of work with themes of suicide, dark relationships and insecure sexual desire. Yet this time it seems she’s not singing of slashing her wrists or being called a whore, instead she’s thrown away her neediness and developed at least a bit of composure and strength; even when a relationship hasn’t worked out. “Just leave I wish you well, it wasn’t our fault that the skyline fell, couldn’t breathe, tried to speak, we kept on, we kept on running with chains around our feet” she sings. Elsewhere she adds lyrics about “don’t need saving” and “I feel safe,” which seems almost an about turn from the first record, she even vocalises this change explaining in the song that she doesn’t know herself that well these days.

In terms of the music, Disco Damaged Kid sounds more expansive and easier to listen to than the unsettling songs on her debut and has raised our interest considerably. Our anticipated albums 2013 list is already getting pretty long.

Polly will be road testing some of her new material on a small tour of venues in the south over the next few days starting tomorrow night in Breaking More Waves home town of Portsmouth (expect a few tweets from that here) at the Cellars, where she’ll be supported by one of our Ones to Watch for 2013 Curxes. The gigs finish in London at Madame Jo Jo’s on December 11. Keep an eye out for more material next year from Polly and more from Curxes as we progress into the forthcoming week on the blog. 

Polly Scattergood - Disco Damaged Kid

Bestival 2009 - Part 4

After two days of almost incessant main stage hogging, Sunday takes Breaking More Waves to virtually every other point on the Bestival site.

Peggy Sue's alt. folk harmonies give a lo-fi kiss to a large hungover crowd at the Jim Beam Bar. Conveying hippyish ideals with flower garlands in their hair, lyrics declaring that “Love will save the day,” and strong soulful female vocals the group are just the tonic for sore heads. After they finish with a stomping version of The Sea The Sea they sell out of the CD’s that they’ve brought with them, a good sign.

The shadow of a ferris wheel creates rotating patterns on the arc shaped canopy above the stage as Ohbijou play songs from their album Beacons. With silken strings and lush violins tussling with Casey Mecija’s angelic girlish vocal, their folk rock sound could easily become twee and indistinct, but it never does, always falling into something more substantial. Intro To Season sounds like Arcade Fire snuggling up with Joanna Newsom and barely lasts over two minutes, but is so lovely it wouldn’t be strange to be found wanting to give the band a hug.

Over in the Big Top Hockey demonstrate with a beach ball that yanks can’t do soccer, and neither do these lads seem to be able to score any musical goals. The bands white boy indie funk has a fair amount of groove but lacks capacity for tunes. It’s only when the LCD Soundsystem sound-a-like pop of Too Fake gets an airing that ears stir. When one particular loon of a punter manages to get on his friends shoulders and presses his face close up to the camera filming proceedings, his ugly mug covering the large video screens to the side of the stage, and it is the highlight of the set, you know something is wrong.

Delphic from Manchester are much better, particularly when they drop their guitars and let washes of indie dance synths cascade around the tent on the loopy and Orbital influenced Counterpoint. Then there is the monumental This Momentary with its “Let’s do something real,” chanted vocal call to arms, where building percussion creates space and energy that given a later night appearance would have developed into a transcendental hands in the air moment.It may not be staggeringly original, 'indie dance' is the category here, but if they can create a body of work as good as these two songs they will be onto something.

Back at the Jim Beam bar Polly Scattergood (pictured) is resplendent in silver, pink feathers and neon yellow / green. Polly is an unusual creature, although very young she seems much older, her girlish vocal and dark sometimes sexual lyrics confusing the issue even more. “You can spit on my French knickers sir, you can call me a whore, if you roll in, roll out, roll up to the Bunny Club,” she sings in a destitute vulnerable manner during Bunny Club, her next single. On Other Too Endless she utters “And I gave you my body, and when I said I did I meant it, and you gave me your anger, and for that I’m still trying to vent it.” It’s all pretty disturbing stuff, with themes of suicide, abuse and clinging on to long gone lovers permeating her performance. Yet despite these themes Polly sings with a smile and theatrically poses her way round the stage as if she were auditioning for Yo Gabba Gabba whilst unsettling electronics add to her blend of broken Prozac Nation pop. It’s oddly schizophrenic and enjoyable all at the same time.

Doves represent our first and only trip of the day to the main stage. The band provide a functional greatest hits set which is watched by Guy Garvey of Elbow in the wings. Doves are talented and accomplished musicians (even permitting the false start on the opening song they play) but after four albums their sound and set is becoming predictable. We would have bet our lives on them finishing with There Goes The Fear, and indeed they do. We said it earlier this year and we stand by our statement that we wish that Doves would now go and do something to surprise us. Maybe a rejuvenation of the Sub Sub ideas would be a neat twist to the left ?

The Bandstand area of Bestival is virtually empty as The Cordelier Club play with just a smattering of friends and stragglers watching. The Cordelier Club sound is very much one of adult middle of the road pop from the eighties with a powerful female rock vocal. There are hints of Stevie Nicks, Roxette, The Pretenders and Eurythmics circa Revenge - not particularly hip reference points, but it is exactly that and the quality of their songs that makes the band stand out. The group have hook after hook, sharp enough to gut wrench you in. One listen to Fire In The City with its “Don’t stop, we go far, running from the city in a getaway car,” chorus and our head is spinning dizzily. Stolen Lovers is even better with big Radio 2 styled high catchiness, it could easily sneer with vibrant abandon from the top of the pop mountain. In a festival full of oddness, The Cordelier Clubs mainstream position seems strangely leftfield and staggering brilliant because of it.

And talking of odd, we take a brave (many would say stupid) decision to miss Elbow (who as much as we love we have seen many times before) to sample Squarepusher, who we have never seen and on paper sound like they will tick our box. If ever there was an argument for taking risks then this would be it. Squarepusher would blind us with brilliance and we would go away happy. Unfortunately the whole thing is a massive endurance test. Faceless experimentation can be brilliant at times, but in the Big Top Squarepusher barrage us with dirty noise, erratic beats and utter chaos in their sound. Headache inducing tosh. Sometimes there’s an argument for playing safe as well. Apparently Elbow were brilliant. Damn.

And with that Bestival begins to draw to a close. There is more dancing to be done still, but in terms of live music that’s it. Bestival 2009 was the biggest yet and in places (Kraftwerk particularly) was the best it’s ever been. There is no doubt that Bestival as a festival has changed. The quirky randomness that the original first two events in particular had still exists, but it has been pushed to the side through its sold out 40,000 capacity popularity. There will be some who will say that the festival has lost its vibe or soul, and certainly the respect for the site at the end of the event seems to have disappeared with the camping areas resembling other large festivals in terms of littering (see video below) and some graffiti terrorism spoiling the hand crafted artwork in the main arena areas. However there will be others who say that there is now even more fun to be had and that the organisation of the event gets better every year. Purely in terms of live music (sound issues from the main stage notwithstanding) and bill quality Breaking More Waves is of the opinion that Bestival 2009 was the best yet. God knows how Rob Da Bank and crew are going to top Kraftwerk next year, but we’ll be looking forward to finding out.

Polly Scattergood - Please Don't Touch

On 4th May Polly Scattergood releases Please Don’t Touch, from her self titled debut album. Please Don’t Touch is notable for being musically upbeat and rather sunny. With skippy acoustic guitar and schoolyard handclaps a plenty it certainly isn’t representative of the rest of the album which is formed from darker electronic atmospheric soundscapes. This is a schizophrenic slightly blemished song, with Polly pleading in her marmite tasting little girl lost voice “Please don’t touch, please don’t stop and stare, yes I thank you for your kindness, but there’s sadness in the air.” The double sided emotion hints at violence as well when Polly adds “Love me tender love me true, show your colours black and blue.” It’s an obvious single to push out due to its jaunty instrumentation and pop music ideals, although there are deeper and far more interesting tracks on the album.

Here’s the video, and for those familiar with Brighton in the UK, see how many places you can identify in this shoot.

Polly Scattergood "Please Don't Touch"

Polly Scattergood - Polly Scattergood

Polly Scattergood has released an adventurous debut - an uneasy leftfield pop album. It will be loved and hated in equal amounts. Much of this is due to Polly’s Plath / Wurtzel styled lyrics, and her girlish close to the microphone theatrical childlike vocal which the listener will find either exceptionally irritating or mysteriously magical. Musically it is characterised by a backdrop of disturbing soundscape sparseness that gives space for the singers angst ridden and vulnerable melodies to shine.

Opening song I Hate The Way tiptoes into focus with dark edgy electronica before guitars and drums explode in a wrathful crescendo and Polly whispers sadly “Do do do do my doctor said I’ve got to sing a happy tune.” The piece then dissolves into ghostly middle of the night noises and beats with Polly sweetly croaking about wanting to be loved, anorexia and paranoia. It's seven minutes long and sounds like a bleak frightening modern day Tori Amos or Kate Bush. Elsewhere there are hints of Sarah Nixey from Black Box Recorder when Polly delivers a spoken word introduction to Unforgiving Arms. "He's a typical writer, always in love with what is gone, and I'm a typical sinner, with a knife inside my back jean pocket." Untitled 27 is a spacey solar system of floaty voices, and tinkling pianos reminiscent of something Massive Attack may produce, whilst Please Don’t Touch is poppy and upbeat musically, despite lyrical references to broken fingers in dark parts of the room.

Much has been made of her lyrics, but they are impossible to ignore. How many of them are auto biographical and how many are simply stories is never clear, but they are far removed from the mainstream. “You can call me a fake sir, you can call me a fraud, you can spit on my French knickers, you can call me a whore,” she commands before promising the ride of your life on Bunny Club. Bizarrely the song imitates the melody of Snow Patrol’s Run with its “Roll in, roll out,” chorus. Despite this melodic similarity, these are not the words of someone aiming to reach the masses. The highlight of the album, towards the end, is Nitrogen Pink which grows from an intimate bedroom confessional to a fuzzily contorted electronic storm as Polly sings “And all the education daddy, it never paid, because the fat man he took my innocence away.” It’s intense yet impressive.

This is an album that is peculiar, dark and intimate and will appeal to those who want their pop music to be slightly more challenging than standard chart fare. Best listened to late at night, preferably with the lights turned low, it gives increased satisfaction with each listen.

Polly Scattergood + Loz Bridge And The Box Social + The Marvellous Mechanical Band + Le Plat Du Jour @ Portsmouth Cellars

Before Polly Scattergood parades the stage at Portsmouth Cellars three local acts bring a diverse range of supports for this evenings gig, each of which is worthy of some attention.

Breaking More Waves had the pleasure of attending the very first Le Plat du Jour gig, and two years on we witness an artist slowly finding her musical feet with an ever deepening maturity. She brings scratchy violins, deep literary references, banjos, acoustic guitars and bluesy PJ Harvey meets KT Tunstall vocals to the stage; all highly satisfying for a first on the bill artist. See You Next Tuesday (C.U.N.T for short) is a sad, but self assured song of betrayal about someone that the singer despises “I don’t need to confirm who I am to you,” she sings with an inner strength of someone finding herself against a simple downbeat guitar backing.

“I hope you’re all limbered up,” asks Matt the lead singer of The Marvellous Mechanical Band, with the promise of involving the audience at a later point in their set. Dressed in orange boiler suits, bunny hats, and scary masks the Marvellous Mechanical Band do not take themselves too seriously. They are here to banish those who think that all music should be solemn and weighty with a performance that brings to mind the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band, a third division punk group and some hoary old rockers from the 70’s. It is quite frankly bizarre, possibly rubbish, but perversely enjoyable. “Those of you who are stats fans, that was about 8% correct,” they announce after one shambolic song of insanely stupid rocking riffs. Later they engage the audience in quite possibly the first ever call and response drum solo, with the audience asked to replicate what the drummer plays. “We’re very aware that we’re very silly,” they announce. Correct, but nothing wrong with that. It is at least entertaining.

Loz Bridge And The Box Social present a much more elegant blend of musical sophistication. Loz is not your typical rock and roller; he’s suited, bespectacled and drinking white wine (the Cellars has run out of red apparently). The bands sound ranges from elegant cocktail bar jazz to more upbeat bluesy numbers. November sees the band completely immersed in the music, the double bass player eyes shut, the guitarist crouched down , Loz’s vocal effortlessly light yet potent. New single Witches, with audience participation on its bavarian rabble rousing chorus is the highlight, an anthem for anyone who “left the house this morning to a job they don’t like,” as Loz describes it.

Polly Scattergood arrives on stage in high heels with bows, patterned tights and an outlandish shiny dress. She is certainly here to make an impression visually, but what of the music and performance? Polly may not have the big ballsy vocal that seems to be the de rigeur for solo female performers these days; instead she produces a relatively timid girlish sound, reminiscent of a slightly wonky Kate Bush. However its lack of authority gives the sense of attending a delicate whispered confessional; a schizophrenic confessional that often disarms and disturbs with its lyrical extremes. It’s not clear if Polly is singing autobiographically or if these tunes are just characters in her mind, but either way they are edgy and often bitterly dark. The words are open to many interpretations, but there appear to be reflections on drunken betrayal on Other Too Endless, saying goodbye to life on Nitrogen Pink and hints of a dark relationship and the loss of innocence on opening song I Hate The Way which suffers a false start due to the dreaded ‘technical hitches‘.

It’s not all slash your wrists traumatic however, with Polly making fun of herself on the poppy Please Don’t Touch where she lists some of her inadequacies “I can’t play pretty tunes, and my hair is always messy,” she sweetly sings, whilst clawing the air and tussling her hair in a theatrical and possibly contrived way as keyboards, drums and guitar provide a Bjork meets Goldfrapp meets Black Box Recorder backing.

The songs that Polly Scattergood performs tonight are unlikely to bring her into the mainstream, but that is not necessarily a bad thing. However the unsettling air of her lyrics and the left field creativity that she displays musically suggest that her album, when released in March, may be an intriguing listen. Ultimately a Polly Scattergood show is like one of Breaking More Waves favourite puddings. All sensually good looking and sweet on the outside, but as one bites deeper one finds hidden tastes that may be bitter and dark, but are ultimately more satisfying.

Polly Scattergood - New Waves @ Breaking More Waves

Whilst publishing our One's To Watch list for 2009 last December, there were a number of artists that we considered for the ten in the list but eventually discarded. This month we have blogged our way through those that missed out, under the title of New Waves @ Breaking More Waves. Polly Scattergood is our final artist who crept around the edges of the list, but was always more likely to be found hiding in a shadowy corner.

Polly Scattergood makes music that is experimental and emotional, sung with feminine charm and a super vulnerability that belies a dark undercurrent. With an album due for release in March, this Brit school graduate has been described as “The Kate Bush of the 21st century,” and there are certainly elements of Bush in her slightly leftfield style.

Her atmospheric angst music is a mix of piano, electronica, pattering beats and guitar that hosts some rather troubled lyrics. On Nitrogen Pink Polly sings “And all the education daddy, it never paid, because the fat man took my innocence away.” Then on the ghostly I Hate The Way she comes across like a young Beth Gibbons whispering “Well you can take what you want cos I’ve got nothing, pass me some pills, and I will go to bed, but however much I toss and turn I feel a dark place up ahead,” before singing with the air of dark madness “Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo - my doctor said I’ve got to sing a happy tune.” These sombre unsettling reflections on life show a deep confessional tone that disturbs, yet draws you further in. If these songs are autobiographical, she’s a psychiatrists wet dream.

Haunting and slightly disturbing, Polly Scattergood is unlikely to be featuring on any commercial radio stations in the near future, but she is all the better for it.