Recent(ish) gigs: EMF, The Wedding Present, Echobelly, Slotface

 Yes, it's overdue gig review time again. I'm kicking this post off with a totally gratuitous photo of the vivacious Sarah from Blue Violet, an exciting, new-to-me band I saw supporting Echobelly recently. It's a shameless, brazen attempt to get people of a certain persuasion to read this 'ere blog. ( Do I seem desperate? )

In a rare case of me actually posting about gigs in chronological order ( it'll never catch on! ), I'm going back to October and another new-to-me band, Norwegian indie-punk firebrands Slotface. You'll have to imagine a Scandinavian-style oblique slash through the "o" in that name, instead of what I've attempted, as my keyboard doesn't want to comply. ( Slotface were originally called Slutface, but changed the name after complaints, although it's still pronounced the same. Apparently. ) I'd bought tickets over a year ago to see current hottest-band-in-the-world The Last Dinner Party in Birmingham but, unfortunately, this gig was cancelled only a couple of days before the event. This left me and good friend Tom ( of The Sensitive Bore fame ) looking for an alternative form of entertainment, preferably in the Birmingham area, and preferably not opera or bingo. After hitting YouTube for song examples, we decided on this unknown quantity.

The venue, The Victoria, turned out to be an old school Brummie pub, just over the road from New Street train station, with a function room on the first floor. This can probably hold about 70 people so is compact and bijou, you might say, if you were so inclined. The first band on were Prairie who described themselves as "Black Country emo" and lived up to the billing. They were a pretty decent indie band ( talk about damning with faint praise! ) but their songs were noticeably lacking in memorable hooks. To be fair, their singer was also dealing with a bad cold and her voice gave out a few times, but she struggled gamely on. After the set I had a quick chat with her and praised her gumption ( that's not a euphemism ) and she said that, as people had made the effort to come out on a wet night in Birmingham, she felt obliged to at least attempt to put on a show. Fair enough.

Next up were SUDS, another band with a rather uninspiring name, and - no offence to Prairie - the quality instantly ramped up. In a similar, indie -Emo -punk vein, SUDS had tunes, hooks and melodies to spare, and a joyous energy that woke up the audience. Their singer had a surprisingly sweet voice and shared some fun banter with the bass-player who was a dead ringer for Jerry from The Walking Dead. Definitely a band to watch, even though they seem a bit too polite and sedate for the type of audiences I imagine they're playing for.

"Polite and sedate" are not words I'd use to describe Slotface...

Roaring onto the stage with the charmingly-titled I Used To Be A Real Piece Of Shit, Slotface fizzed with a crackling aural voltage and kicked out a ball of melodic, punky, fuzzed-up sound. Each member of the band looked amazingly cool and had attitude and presence coming out of their ears. In short, the kind of band that are tailor-made for old gig-goers like me, who often wonder where all the "real" bands are today. ( Alright, give it a rest, granddad! )

They introduced new songs from their latest album, Film Buff, such as Leading Man and Final Girl, which had various movie / film connotations, and then pleased their regular fans with older songs such as Nancy Drew and Telepathetic ( a real anthem, probably my favourite of the night. ) These songs were all new to me and Tom, and were all fantastic. Singer Haley Shea had an excellent voice, powerful, controlled and soaring, while her bandmates were all cracking musicians - one of the tightest bands I've seen in ages.

And, speaking of cracking, that's what nearly happened to my cranium as the bass player leapt off the stage and nearly clobbered me with his machine head. Pretty soon, Haley joined him down on the floor and encouraged us to form a mini circle pit, which we duly did. All good, sweaty fun. Haley asked if any of us were "gym people" ( which prompted a resounding "No!" ) and said she could probably give personal fitness training a go if the rock 'n' roll didn't work out. On this evidence, I think it will work out...

Here's me above, pointing out the murderous, but oblivious, bass player. And below, the full Slotface workout routine in blurred action. All too soon, the gig was over and everyone was knackered but grinning, confident we'd seen one of the standout performances of the year, proving that unexpected gigs can often be the best. Tom and I had a chat with Haley at the merch stand, where I bought a signed vinyl copy of the new album. Tom, of course, asked Haley what her favourite movies are and she replied she was a big fan of The Breakfast Club, something she apparently likes to say to film bores ( like us! ) who expect something more profound from a singer whose album is called Film Buff. Top marks for attitude, yet again. So, three bands I'd happily see again ( especially Slotface! ), although I think I'd wear a hard hat next time...

Moving on from up-and-coming young bands and on to some more, er, mature acts now - starting with two consecutive nights in my favourite venue, Gloucester's gorgeous Guildhall...

Friday 15/11 saw my third time unwrapping The Wedding Present. Sarah and I had seen them in this very same venue almost exactly a year before, and that had been an absolutely killer gig, so I was overjoyed to see them again. Sarah wasn't as keen, but came along anyway. I'm glad to report they were just as good this time and I think they're becoming, after all this time, one of my fave live bands. We unfortunately missed the support, but still got into the venue early enough to bag a good spot near the stage.

Starting off with a couple of new songs ( brave! ) David Gedge and his band started as they meant to go on: all velocity, lugubrious vocals and finger-shredding guitar pyrotechnics. I'm still not overly familiar with TWP's back catalogue, but the classic A Million Miles was the third song and the familiar opening chords brought an instant smile to my face, and I even managed to kind of sing along. Yes, I'm definitely becoming a fan.

Gedge, who seemed to surprise himself with how much he talked to and with the audience, announced a third new song, and said we might want to "go for a wee" at this point. Bless. He didn't have to worry as this slow-burning tune, Silver Shadow, was just as captivating as more familiar material like Don't Talk Just Kiss. The band were, as ever, on it - musically tight and enjoying themselves, even as they ran the risk of losing skin to guitar strings with all the fretboard pummelling going on.

The onstage banter turned to the topic of guitar effects pedals. Mentioning his co-guitarist, Gedge said "Rachel's got a pedal-board as wide as a car; I've got two sounds: clear and LOUD!" Being self-effacing as ever, he neglected to mention that he can wring a huge amount of noise and emotion from these two settings. And he proceeded to do so throughout the set, especially during my fave Weddoes song I Am Not Going To Fall In Love With You, which was just stunning.

The increasingly-voluble Gedge then introduced the band and ran through the various other bands they've played for and their Top Of The Pops appearances. Apparently, the bass player had been on TOTP with Gomez, while the drummer had appeared on TOTP with 6 (!) different bands.

"This could be the start of  a new feature" Gedge chuckled before Rachel revealed she'd played on TOTP with the winner of the BBC's Fame Academy, Alex Parks. ( Nobody there seemed to know who that was, but a quick Google afterwards showed that Parks didn't exactly have the best time in her brief career as a pop star, unfortunately. )

The set climaxed with some old favourites like Kennedy and Nobody's Twisting Your Arm, with the band bowing out after a ferocious Brassneck. Sarah was only mildly impressed ( she thought TWP's sound was too samey, which I can totally understand, if not necessarily agree with ) but I thought it was a terrific gig, and I'll definitely see them again, given the chance.

And the very next night saw us back in the good ol' Guildhall again. It really is our home from home. And my old friend Glenn ( of Borrowed Time fame ) came along with us - in fact he still owes me for the ticket...

This time, we managed to catch the support band, Blue Violet, and we were glad we did because they were great!

Before they came on stage, the PA was blaring out The Four Tops' cheesy old hit, Loco In Acapulco, which seemed an odd choice. Then out came BV's Sarah in the T-shirt pictured and it all made sense. Blue Violet are a very confident, sassy band, their sound a compelling mix of indie-pop and Goth, with Sarah throwing some very Debbie Harry-inspired shapes, as you can see above. Synth-y and sensual, their music instantly hooked the crowd, who reacted to them as if they were the headliners. I'll definitely have to catch them again: they've got a new album out in January, so I imagine they'll be out on the road again soon.

And then it was time for one of the most underrated bands of the Britpop era, Echobelly...

Glenn and I had last seen Sonya Madden and her band waaaaay back in 1996 (!) at the Phoenix Festival, so we were well overdue to catch them again. They started the set with the bouncy hymn to solipsism I Can't Imagine The World Without Me and proceeded to fling more Britpop bangers at us. Car Fiction and Father, Ruler, King, Computer had us partying like Tony Blair was still PM. And that's pretty wild, kids! Sonya still had that breathy vocal style and twinkle in the eye that could reduce grown men ( and some women, no doubt ) to pools of jelly. The band, while not strictly the same group I'd seen in a field in Warwickshire all those years ago, were razor sharp and fully in control.

It was all going so well... but then Sonya introduced a song by saying "This one's about bulimia." Awkward silence time. She glared at the audience and said "Look it up." There was a definite feeling of being lectured to, and I think we all felt uncomfortable. No doubt this was a subject that Sonya feels strongly about ( personal experience, perhaps? ) but I shouldn't think there were many in the crowd who didn't know what bulimia is -  most of us were of a certain age, you might say, so have been around the block a few times. It was a definite buzzkill and it took another couple of songs before the atmosphere picked back up. ( It hadn't helped that, after Sonya had said "Look it up", a bloke behind us said "Bring it up"  -  not good. )

About midway through the set, most of the band left the stage, leaving just Sonya and the OG guitarist ( another Glenn ) to play a couple of semi-acoustic numbers. These were an excellent showcase for her beautiful vocals and were just sublime.

At one point, Ms. Madden remarked "You're all so polite. Thirty years ago, we'd be breaking up fights down the front." ( I think a few of us would be too worried about putting our backs out these days, to be honest. ) Then she said "Do you want to sing?" and, oh yes, we did sing as the band blasted out their most recognisable, biggest hit Great Things. And it was great. They finally encored with an anthemic King Of The Kerb ( I still haven't got a clue what that song's all about ), a cover called Giving It All ( from the Echobelly side-project Calm Of Zero ) and an epic Dark Therapy, which finished the night on a triumphant high. Even allowing for that bulimia reference and some moments of spikiness from La Madden, it had been an excellent set and I'm glad I finally caught up with Echobelly after nearly three decades. ( Gulp! )

And, if you're talking 1990s, it doesn't get much more '90s than those boys from the Forest Of Dean, the rave-tastic EMF...

So, the 12th of December saw a just-recovering-from-a-throat-infection Sarah and I heading to Cheltenham ( Gloucester's posh neighbour ) and the county's newest music venue, The Steam and Whistle. This is the pub formerly known as The Midland Hotel, opposite Cheltenham's train station. I wasn't sure that this place would be big enough for The Meff, but it has almost Tardis-like properties as a virtually hidden door takes you down a steep flight of steps into an underground lair bar / hall, with a capacity of about 250 /300. On closer inspection, the pub is actually built into a bank and this is the lower level with a small courtyard outside. ( Pay attention, there'll be a test later. )

This gig was the first time I'd seen EMF in 12 (!) years, almost to the day that they had played their first two albums, back to back, in ( where else? ) the Gloucester Guildhall, filmed for posterity as the Long Live The New Flesh DVD. Obviously not quite as large a gap as the Echobelly situation, but I was well overdue to see the band, especially since they've recorded a couple of new albums in the meantime and have virtually returned to full-time gigging.

There was quite a buzz ahead of the set, as Sarah and I wormed our way through the tightly-packed crowd, to a spot about four rows from the front. Unusually for a rock gig, EMF had an introduction by a fully-gowned, bell-ringing town crier. This was Jer Holland, the official town crier for the band's hometown of Cinderford, who had also been instrumental in getting a blue plaque erected for EMF in the town. After his "Oh yez, oh yez, oh yez" routine, with many humorous mentions to the FOD, the band came on stage to a rapturous reception and asked "Is there anyone here from the Forest?" - the roar that followed kind of confirmed that.

Despite some sound / technical issues ( "Were so professional" said James Atkin as he wrestled with his microphone ), the band were on top form and soon had the audience partying like it was 1990. They started with newie The Day The Music Died, then it was straight on to the classic singles Lies and I Believe, and everybody was now dancing. The newly-minted anthem Reach For The Lasers was a lovely tribute to the old rave days, with glow-sticks ahoy ( Sarah was gutted that she'd forgotten hers ) and James reading out a list of inspirational DJs  -  Carl Cox, Annie Mac, Don Letts, Frankie Knuckles etc  -  which ended with a rabble-rousing crowd chant for the late Andy Weatherall. James said "We're too old to party now, we just sing about it." Somehow, I don't quite, er, believe that...

Which, by a staggering coincidence ( not really ) leads us into *the hit*, Unbelievable. This was as manic as ever, with the whole venue going bananas and bouncing around like a plate of jelly on a trampoline. Or something. It was crazy, man. Long Hot Summer Nights was a more chilled out number, suiting the warm weather inside the venue, if not the chilly December night outside. My fave EMF song, Children, was an emotional epic and was very special indeed. They threw in a cheeky cover of Depeche Mode's I Just Can't Get Enough, which was great fun and emphasised the band's place in the lineage of great British sythnpop bands. They were due to head off to catch a ferry to Ireland for a gig in Cork, so Ian Dench was virtually dragging James off stage, but they gamely finished the set with another cover, the old Vic Reeves collaboration I'm A Believer, and fan favourite Inside.

After a bit of indecision, the band enchored with, of course, EMF itself  -  I mean, they had to play it for the ( almost ) hometown crowd. "Is Cheltenham in the Forest of Dean? Yes, we've decided it is tonight." Ian had been liberally spicing the set with the words "mother fucker" ( they're such polite boys! ), so their name-checking anthem was inevitable: "E! Ecstasy! M! Mother fucker, mother fucker!" Lovely. And with that, they were gone. ( Well, considering how rushed they were, I did see Derry in the bar about an hour later, still signing autographs. )

It had been a great evening, and I think I've converted Sarah into an EMF fan. After the gig we sat in the bar for a while with my work colleague, Fergus*, and his son Ethan. We had a lovely chat, mostly about bands and gigs, but Sarah was frustrated by how croaky her voice was, following the throat infection. Anyway, it was a cracking gig to finish off the year ( I doubt if I'll get any more in now ) and a pleasure to see the boys from the FOD again. Just don't ask who killed the bear.

* Last Friday, Fergus was sadly involved in a car crash. Some little twat in a flash car hit him headlong as he was driving to work. He's currently in hospital for Christmas, in quite a bad way. Get well soon, Fergus.