Wasn't my idea and definitely not something I'd inflict on anyone other than close, similarly musically aligned friends, but Radiohead's "Idioteque" turns out to be a surprisingly great karaoke choice.
(I'm neglicting because I've been away every night, not because of actual neglect like usual. Hopefully to continue tomorrow with a gig by Johnny Foreigner, will report back on it if so!)
23.9.08
Play thoughts
Belatedly catching up on posts on Rocktimists (featuring a couple of much missed Stylus writers, among others), I was particularly interested by this one.
I instinctively wanted to disprove its comparison of the current positions in the video games market to thoughts on music compression, largely because I'm on different sides in each case (Nintendo and Elbow, in short). But the more I thought about it the more it seemed to fit. Is wanting more dynamic range and being able to hear little details in records really all that different from people getting fussed about framerate and polygons per second?
I tried to think that the first is a far more intrinsic part of music, but can that really be the case? Video games are different from the passive experience of watching TV/movies (even if you're playing Metal Gear Solid 4) but isn't the image with which you're interacting about as intrinsic as you can get?
On the other hand, is there a music equivalent to outdated games with comparatively basic graphics that remain fun to play? Production techniques can definitely lead songs to sound of a time (even if that time isn't their own). And early uses of synths, for example, don't do all that could be possible with improved technology, but listening to a song the primitive nature of the technology would hardly leap out in the same way as someone playing twenty-year-old games. I suppose if you go back to the earliest days of recorded music you would get to something similar, but there is no retro scene that I am aware of celebrating such recordings in the same way as Commodore 64 games. Which maybe proves something.
These kind of issues have been interesting me ever since getting back into video games a couple of years ago, and discovering an internet community on the likes of NeoGAF that is not dissimilar to the music one (except even more male, American and filled with in-jokes) and useful for finding the really good stuff out there.
One of the most striking differences is how bloody positive people tend to be. Hit your average music discussion and chances are high of finding biting dislike of whoever is being discussed, especially if they're popular. It's not like that doesn't happen with games but on the whole people seem to be much more likely to be actually happy with what's successful! To the point of developing strong loyalties to the multinational companies that provide it, no less.
I think the key thing here is the fact that an objective review is a lot less of an oxymoron when it comes to games. If a game just isn't fun then chances are it isn't fun to anyone else either. There are exceptions but given the level of effort required in making a game, a big budget really does make it likely to be better. You won't get everyone to agree on the merits of Shadow of the Colossus, much like you won't get everyone to agree on OK Computer, but you'll get much closer. The effects of this particular type of groupthink can be peculiar at times. Stylus never had to deal with anything compared to gaming sites getting crazed reactions to a review giving only 8.8/10. But every time I see a comments page full of genuine, deservedly positive replies it does make me a little happy.
Incidentally, while we've mentioned the subject of compression and video games, this is pretty amazing. Not in a good way.
I instinctively wanted to disprove its comparison of the current positions in the video games market to thoughts on music compression, largely because I'm on different sides in each case (Nintendo and Elbow, in short). But the more I thought about it the more it seemed to fit. Is wanting more dynamic range and being able to hear little details in records really all that different from people getting fussed about framerate and polygons per second?
I tried to think that the first is a far more intrinsic part of music, but can that really be the case? Video games are different from the passive experience of watching TV/movies (even if you're playing Metal Gear Solid 4) but isn't the image with which you're interacting about as intrinsic as you can get?
On the other hand, is there a music equivalent to outdated games with comparatively basic graphics that remain fun to play? Production techniques can definitely lead songs to sound of a time (even if that time isn't their own). And early uses of synths, for example, don't do all that could be possible with improved technology, but listening to a song the primitive nature of the technology would hardly leap out in the same way as someone playing twenty-year-old games. I suppose if you go back to the earliest days of recorded music you would get to something similar, but there is no retro scene that I am aware of celebrating such recordings in the same way as Commodore 64 games. Which maybe proves something.
These kind of issues have been interesting me ever since getting back into video games a couple of years ago, and discovering an internet community on the likes of NeoGAF that is not dissimilar to the music one (except even more male, American and filled with in-jokes) and useful for finding the really good stuff out there.
One of the most striking differences is how bloody positive people tend to be. Hit your average music discussion and chances are high of finding biting dislike of whoever is being discussed, especially if they're popular. It's not like that doesn't happen with games but on the whole people seem to be much more likely to be actually happy with what's successful! To the point of developing strong loyalties to the multinational companies that provide it, no less.
I think the key thing here is the fact that an objective review is a lot less of an oxymoron when it comes to games. If a game just isn't fun then chances are it isn't fun to anyone else either. There are exceptions but given the level of effort required in making a game, a big budget really does make it likely to be better. You won't get everyone to agree on the merits of Shadow of the Colossus, much like you won't get everyone to agree on OK Computer, but you'll get much closer. The effects of this particular type of groupthink can be peculiar at times. Stylus never had to deal with anything compared to gaming sites getting crazed reactions to a review giving only 8.8/10. But every time I see a comments page full of genuine, deservedly positive replies it does make me a little happy.
Incidentally, while we've mentioned the subject of compression and video games, this is pretty amazing. Not in a good way.
21.9.08
Ten favourite moments on Los Campesinos!' We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed
Since even more than their debut, songs as a whole seem less important than the number of amazing, distinct hooks that they can cram into half an hour or so.
- "Miserabilia" - The heavily distorted, disgusted '...for a better understanding of my dietary requirements' leaping suddenly but appropriately into an off-kilter, violin led riff that feels like the onrushing waves of nausea hitting.
- 'Shout at the world because the world doesn't love you!' - So musically triumphant and uniting as to completely turn the sentiment around; yelling loud and clear that we don't need the love of the world.
- The amazing sounds behind the second verse of the title track, where the guitar sounds like it's methodically chopping the song into pieces with the reaciton of an adorably sad and confused little sigh (of violin? synth? It's beyond recognisable).
- When the violin comes in after 'I hope my heart goes first!' and everything is briefly beautiful, a wash of calm contemplation after the frenzy.
- "It's Never That Easy Though..." - the squelchy keyboard that takes the opening line 'This one time, I kissed a girl for class war' and turns it into a mischievous comic adventure. If there's one thing that raises this album more than anything else, it's their amazing knack for fitting musical punctuation marks to their lyrics in a way that magnifies the power of both.
- That perfectly executed stop and start at about a minute in that doesn't need to be there for any reason at all but knocks me sideways every time and makes the start of the following joyful whirling build up even better.
- "The End of the Asterisk" - 'Your parents, your disgusting parents'. Gareth's punk scowl is great, and all the more so for being relatively rarely used.
- "Heart Swells/Pacific Daylight Time" finally reaches an unambiguous, genuine positive sentiment and it immediately gets drowned in feedback and chopped off. Really affecting and still totally Los Campesinos!.
- "All Your Kayfabe Friends" - 'You asked if I'd be anyone from history/fact or fiction, dead or alive/I said I'd be Tony Cascarino, circa 1995' - destined to be their most quoted line ever, I guess, but it really is that amazing. Like the Breakfast Club line from the debut, but five times as bloodymindedly logic-free and with even better timing.
- The ending. I'm a sucker for songs suddenly cutting off (better than a fadeout every time), especially at the end of albums. As pleasurably disorientating as most other things here.
15.9.08
Chartsengrafs 15/09/08 - Soft lips are open
Welcome back, all. Things to note about the UK charts in my absence - now that downloads have all but completely taken over, they move very, very slowly. Not quite US-like Mariah Carey at number one for 200 weeks slowly, but certainly there's not going to be quite so much happening in any given week as used to be the case.
It's a rare week then this week as we see new entries on both the singles and album charts!
Straight in at number one on the singles are Kings of Leon, somehow. Their previous highest was a 13 for "Fans" which I have no memory of whatsoever. Follow up to "On Call", apparently. Having said quite a few times over the summer 'forget Jay-Z, what the hell are Kings of Leon doing headlining Glastonbury??' their new position is dismaying. As a result it's secretly disappointing that "Sex on Fire" completely fails to live up to its hilarious title and turns out to not bad, if not exactly setting anything alight (sorry). Certainly there seems to be a lot more to them than the likes of Jet, and a few comparisons seen elsewhere to "Dakota" (ie previously terrible band comes good for once) are equally as unfair on Kings of Leon as on "Dakota".
Removed from number one after 5 weeks is Katy Perry, who I am way too late to have much new to say about. I'll try anyway - if you try really hard to ignore the lyrics and keep the bile down, doesn't "I Kissed a Girl" sort of sound like The Bravery? From the ridiculous to the equally ridiculous, at number three is Cliff Richard, who missed his chance to carry on that number one every decade record that's obviously a great source of pride and publicity. He needed to go for it a couple of years back when he would only have needed to sell half as many copies, really. Pussycat Dolls and Rihanna follow at 4 and 5, and then lower down the top ten is horrorville. Take your pick from The Script, Kid Rock or Biffy Clyro-ironically-gone-Busted-ballad for biggest crime against music there (hint: it's still The Script).
What else? Flobots make it up into the top 20, probably more to come on them once I've heard more than the chorus on endless adverts (that is not helping their cause). Iglu & Hartly and McFly are new at 21 and 23 and at 25 Keane's silly big 80s pop moment "Spiralling" continues to follow Coldplay in demonstrating that giving away your single for free won't stop people paying 79p for it for months to come. Basshunter (he's sold 130,000 albums, you know) gets a third but rather lesser top 40 hit at 24, ditto for Flo Rida at 29.
At 33, watch your back cos Paul Rodgers has got Queen on this track; a Mercury win is enough to put
In the albums, Metallica rush out late in the week to snatch the top spot from Glasvegas. It's a bit surprising - St. Anger was only number three. That was in part due to releasing alongside Hail to the Thief, but I still didn't think that they had quite such clout anymore. Especially when releasing an album with cover/title that surely shouldn't have made it past the inside cover of first year science exercise books. No other big new entries, but the aforementioned Mercury effect pushes The Seldom Seen Kid from 61 to 7, and past Asleep in the Back (and Basshunter) in lifetime sales.
10.9.08
Lowlands Day 3 (17/08/08)
Sunday's music starts off with a disappointing moment. Rushing back from a very necessary packing trip, we arrive at the (tiny) Lima tent just in time to hear the last two bars of Lykke Li's cover of Vampire Weekend's "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa". Had been looking forward to that being the finale and highlight of her set, but alas no. There is still an enjoyably taunting "Complaint Department" although a couple of others fall into being a bit too loose and diffident, much like the album.
Next are a couple of bands that I know nothing of in advance. Pivot offer some interesting though slightly unengaging experimental electronica. Yeasayer go for psychadelic leaning rock that has some nice harmonies in places but occasionally veers into horrible falsetto/wah-wah boogie. They spend a surprising amount of their time on stage talking up the next band, MGMT.
They needn't have bothered, as MGMT are already clearly the hype band of the weekend, going as far the previous day as to fly over a plane with an advert for their set, and attracting a crowd thats packed even twenty-deep outside the sizeable India tent. They completely fail to do anything to justify this position, starting by arriving about fifteen minutes late. Announcing that they will play the whole of their album isn't a bad start (although they don't play it in order anyway), but within thirty seconds of a foolishly thrown out "Time to Pretend" it's clear that they intend to not only play the whole album but also replicate the gratingly horrible and compressed sound of it, only even more so. Every keyboard sound is a deafening scrape and the rest is barely better. I still think that they probably have some good songs, but it's not too easy to tell. I leave after two, not least because there are more important places to be...
...namely the Grolsch tent for Elbow! Good thing to get in there too, as after a weekend of (sometimes uncomfortably) sunny weather, a torrential downpour almost perfectly coincides with their set. Guy Garvey is quick to make light of the fact ("Consider yourself lucky, in Manchester it rains for 200 days a year") and it actually lends a bit of a communal huddle air to proceedings, especially once we reach the somewhat ironic climax of "One Day Like Today".
Before that is a set that's, well, as reliably fantastic as any Elbow set of the past few years - that I can't be more enthusiastic about it is more down to it being my tenth time seeing them than anything else. That and the slightly short set (no "The Fix" or "Grace Under Pressure") and slightly too high and far away stage, although Guy does everything in his power to overcome that short of actually climbing down, and that's only because he'd probably never make it back. He sings almost every heartfelt word leaning forward and physically reaching out in an attempt to connect that works remarkably well for its simplicity. Even on the rare occasion when he falters, voice straining and flirting with out of tune for a couple of verses of "Great Expectations", the warmth of feeling and beautifully soft pattering of piano easily carries him through.
Special mention as ever to "Newborn", the only track from their debut played, which remains just as gobsmacking in scale and power a tenth time as it did the first, and surely will a fiftieth.
How to follow that? Well, if there's one band who can match or better them musically for sheer beauty it's Sigur Rós. They begin with a massive "Svefn-G-Englar", building up to a bow on guitar frenzy that seems to almost swallow the whole tent in its depth of primordial, unnameable feeling, and everything that made them such an important band to me many years ago makes total sense again. A barely less epic "Glósóli" later and they play a (possibly new) song that I don't know, and things get really magical as it softly flutters and a brass band, dressed all in white, emerge to march in slow motion across the stage, a delightful visual that matches all the pomp of the music but also injects a touch of humour and a human element that doesn't always translate amid their towering music.
Next: Time to blow all that away with a thunderously crashing "Ný Batterí"! Holy crap. About half an hour gone and an hour left (they presumably insisted on the longest slot of the festival) and their set his been faultless and made me want to fall in love with them again, and yet... there's a reason why all that was needed. So getting out while they're ahead seems a good bet, and as I walk out to the sound of the opening chords of "Hoppipolla", the usual sinking feeling sets in and I feel like I've made the right choice. That one is more the assorted documentary soundtrackers of the UK's fault than theirs, but still the prospect of the goo of the last two albums is too much to face.
So instead I finish up Lowlands 2008 with The Dresden Dolls. Their edgy, witty and almost uncomfortably insightful Yes, Virginia... has crept up to become one of my favourite albums of recent years, so I'm rather excited to see them for the first time. And that excitement reaches fever pitch as they open in style with its frenzied "Sex Changes", keyboard and drums pounding in unison.
Their show in some ways gets no less impressive from there, from the sheer noise somewhow generated by only two people on in. Amanda Palmer wrings a huge range of sounds from her keyboard with furious, rapid fire succession, and Brian Viglione is equal parts drummer and mime, with comic and dramatic timing down perfectly. Of course, for that to work rather than being a distraction they need to have the songs to match... and that's where they fall down with a bizarrely misjudged setlist.
I know that there are always people who are there for the early stuff (see Sigur Rós review above) but failing to play any more songs from their second album at all is inexplicable. Their debut was full of potential, but it lacked a lot of the songwriting poise of the second and there's only so many of its overwrought issues songs (yay, self harm) that can be taken in one go. Only a blistering "Girl Anachronism" and "Coin Operated Boy", with its clockwork stop-start sections drawn out til they go through bizarre into funny and back again, are up to the job. The latter also gets a just about funny enough to work lyric change from 'I can even take him in the bath' to 'I can even fuck him in the ass', which says, er, something. Anyway, their wasted potential is a disappointing way to end, summed up no better than by a drawn out closing cover of Black Sabbath's "War Pigs" that we are instructed to sing along to but no one knows the words to.
Next are a couple of bands that I know nothing of in advance. Pivot offer some interesting though slightly unengaging experimental electronica. Yeasayer go for psychadelic leaning rock that has some nice harmonies in places but occasionally veers into horrible falsetto/wah-wah boogie. They spend a surprising amount of their time on stage talking up the next band, MGMT.
They needn't have bothered, as MGMT are already clearly the hype band of the weekend, going as far the previous day as to fly over a plane with an advert for their set, and attracting a crowd thats packed even twenty-deep outside the sizeable India tent. They completely fail to do anything to justify this position, starting by arriving about fifteen minutes late. Announcing that they will play the whole of their album isn't a bad start (although they don't play it in order anyway), but within thirty seconds of a foolishly thrown out "Time to Pretend" it's clear that they intend to not only play the whole album but also replicate the gratingly horrible and compressed sound of it, only even more so. Every keyboard sound is a deafening scrape and the rest is barely better. I still think that they probably have some good songs, but it's not too easy to tell. I leave after two, not least because there are more important places to be...
...namely the Grolsch tent for Elbow! Good thing to get in there too, as after a weekend of (sometimes uncomfortably) sunny weather, a torrential downpour almost perfectly coincides with their set. Guy Garvey is quick to make light of the fact ("Consider yourself lucky, in Manchester it rains for 200 days a year") and it actually lends a bit of a communal huddle air to proceedings, especially once we reach the somewhat ironic climax of "One Day Like Today".
Before that is a set that's, well, as reliably fantastic as any Elbow set of the past few years - that I can't be more enthusiastic about it is more down to it being my tenth time seeing them than anything else. That and the slightly short set (no "The Fix" or "Grace Under Pressure") and slightly too high and far away stage, although Guy does everything in his power to overcome that short of actually climbing down, and that's only because he'd probably never make it back. He sings almost every heartfelt word leaning forward and physically reaching out in an attempt to connect that works remarkably well for its simplicity. Even on the rare occasion when he falters, voice straining and flirting with out of tune for a couple of verses of "Great Expectations", the warmth of feeling and beautifully soft pattering of piano easily carries him through.
Special mention as ever to "Newborn", the only track from their debut played, which remains just as gobsmacking in scale and power a tenth time as it did the first, and surely will a fiftieth.
How to follow that? Well, if there's one band who can match or better them musically for sheer beauty it's Sigur Rós. They begin with a massive "Svefn-G-Englar", building up to a bow on guitar frenzy that seems to almost swallow the whole tent in its depth of primordial, unnameable feeling, and everything that made them such an important band to me many years ago makes total sense again. A barely less epic "Glósóli" later and they play a (possibly new) song that I don't know, and things get really magical as it softly flutters and a brass band, dressed all in white, emerge to march in slow motion across the stage, a delightful visual that matches all the pomp of the music but also injects a touch of humour and a human element that doesn't always translate amid their towering music.
Next: Time to blow all that away with a thunderously crashing "Ný Batterí"! Holy crap. About half an hour gone and an hour left (they presumably insisted on the longest slot of the festival) and their set his been faultless and made me want to fall in love with them again, and yet... there's a reason why all that was needed. So getting out while they're ahead seems a good bet, and as I walk out to the sound of the opening chords of "Hoppipolla", the usual sinking feeling sets in and I feel like I've made the right choice. That one is more the assorted documentary soundtrackers of the UK's fault than theirs, but still the prospect of the goo of the last two albums is too much to face.
So instead I finish up Lowlands 2008 with The Dresden Dolls. Their edgy, witty and almost uncomfortably insightful Yes, Virginia... has crept up to become one of my favourite albums of recent years, so I'm rather excited to see them for the first time. And that excitement reaches fever pitch as they open in style with its frenzied "Sex Changes", keyboard and drums pounding in unison.
Their show in some ways gets no less impressive from there, from the sheer noise somewhow generated by only two people on in. Amanda Palmer wrings a huge range of sounds from her keyboard with furious, rapid fire succession, and Brian Viglione is equal parts drummer and mime, with comic and dramatic timing down perfectly. Of course, for that to work rather than being a distraction they need to have the songs to match... and that's where they fall down with a bizarrely misjudged setlist.
I know that there are always people who are there for the early stuff (see Sigur Rós review above) but failing to play any more songs from their second album at all is inexplicable. Their debut was full of potential, but it lacked a lot of the songwriting poise of the second and there's only so many of its overwrought issues songs (yay, self harm) that can be taken in one go. Only a blistering "Girl Anachronism" and "Coin Operated Boy", with its clockwork stop-start sections drawn out til they go through bizarre into funny and back again, are up to the job. The latter also gets a just about funny enough to work lyric change from 'I can even take him in the bath' to 'I can even fuck him in the ass', which says, er, something. Anyway, their wasted potential is a disappointing way to end, summed up no better than by a drawn out closing cover of Black Sabbath's "War Pigs" that we are instructed to sing along to but no one knows the words to.
9.9.08
5.9.08
Lowlands day 2 (16/08/08)
I really mean to start off Saturday with Laura Marling in one of the event's smaller tents. But in even more oppressive early afternoon heat than the previous day, sitting down in the shade seems a good idea. And then suddenly getting up again doesn't. Before you know it, it's an hour and a half later. Apparently she was good though.
NERD are playing the festival's enormous arena sized Alpha tent but it's still way too crowded to get in. Instead we take up stations at the somewhat smaller stage opposite, the closest to an outside stage there is. Can't tell you much about NERD despite the proximity as they get drowned out by soundchecking for Los Campesinos!, eagerly awaited by a small cadre of dedicated fans.
Gareth begins by thanking NERD for supporting them, later going on to attack a lengthy list of targets including the Sex Pistols (playing later; we should see No Age instead), British festivals (full of drunken idiots) and Belgium's rival Pukklepop (a popular one, this). Fortunately there's still enough manic energy and creativity left over for their songs. The power of the unique worldview invested in them comes through even more while watching various members of the band throwing themselves around and at each other, helped by the fact that with no second album songs yet essentially every song is a crowd favourite. It doesn't make for a perfect set quite. Gareth's female cointerpart Aleksandra is near inaudible for much of the set, giving "The International Tweecore Underground" in particular a weird one sided conversation feel. And when my friend complains after about not being able to tell the difference between many of their songs they have somehwat of a point at times. But when LC! team up a blistering "My Year in Lists" to a cathartic "Knee Deep at ATP" for a sub five minute double feature, or when a chaotic "We Throw Parties, You Throw Knives" coda coalesces behind Gareth as he theatrically checks his watch for the correct mid-August date, or they line up on upturned monitors for the final trimphant bellow of "Sweet Dreams Sweet Cheeks" there is nothing remotely like them. That's even before we get to the euphoric madness inspired by "You! Me! Dancing!"
British Sea Power were never likely to live up to that but disappoint a little nonetheless. Matters definitely aren't helped by the smallest crowd of the weekend, who aren't even roused by "Waving Flags", aside from a couple of people with (Spanish/pirate) flags of their own. But even beyond that, good but slightly airy songs come off as even airier and only "It Ended on an Oily Stage" comes close to moving. Maybe I missed the best bits by arriving halfway through.
A quick stop for food later (uitsmijter, a bread and fried egg/cheese combo that definitely beats British festival food) it's back to the huge tent for Franz Ferdinand.
They make for a slick and relaxed contrast to the overstretched band that I saw at Glastonbury and Ally Pally a few years ago. A carefully picked set shows off the best side of the mixed second album, and there are few moments of half-surprised memory along the lines of 'oh yeah, "Walk Away" is quite the fantastic drama, huh?'. They also trial quite a few of those long overdue new songs which are promising if not completely convincing.
What makes the set so much better than that quick overview makes it sound is just how on their side the crowd are. There's a celebratory atmosphere even before they become the only act I see to make a stab at (I presume) Dutch that goes beyond 'dank u well'. "Take Me Out" is of course welcomed with open arms, even the guitar part sung along to, but it goes well beyond that and makes an event of almost every song. Somehow even "This Fire" gets turned into a barnstorming finale whose chorus is still being sung well after the band has departed.
Rather different in feel but nearly as enjoyable are headliners Underworld (the other two days had Editors and Anouk if you're interested). It possibly helps to go into the show with virtually no knowledge of their material, as the slowly unfolding intricate rhythyms are all the more hypnotic with no idea where they are heading next. They're helped too by some excellent projections and some fantastic props, in the shape of blow up pillar things that are blown up and pushed over and around and look from a distance intriguingly like spotlights turned solid. And then after about an hour slips by gracefully, there's the inevitable conclusion of "Born Slippy" and the moment that it kicks in and the lights turn on and we all stand arms aloft, grinning broadly. It's the sort of moment that it would be difficult to get wrong at this point, but they make thoroughly sure they don't.
NERD are playing the festival's enormous arena sized Alpha tent but it's still way too crowded to get in. Instead we take up stations at the somewhat smaller stage opposite, the closest to an outside stage there is. Can't tell you much about NERD despite the proximity as they get drowned out by soundchecking for Los Campesinos!, eagerly awaited by a small cadre of dedicated fans.
Gareth begins by thanking NERD for supporting them, later going on to attack a lengthy list of targets including the Sex Pistols (playing later; we should see No Age instead), British festivals (full of drunken idiots) and Belgium's rival Pukklepop (a popular one, this). Fortunately there's still enough manic energy and creativity left over for their songs. The power of the unique worldview invested in them comes through even more while watching various members of the band throwing themselves around and at each other, helped by the fact that with no second album songs yet essentially every song is a crowd favourite. It doesn't make for a perfect set quite. Gareth's female cointerpart Aleksandra is near inaudible for much of the set, giving "The International Tweecore Underground" in particular a weird one sided conversation feel. And when my friend complains after about not being able to tell the difference between many of their songs they have somehwat of a point at times. But when LC! team up a blistering "My Year in Lists" to a cathartic "Knee Deep at ATP" for a sub five minute double feature, or when a chaotic "We Throw Parties, You Throw Knives" coda coalesces behind Gareth as he theatrically checks his watch for the correct mid-August date, or they line up on upturned monitors for the final trimphant bellow of "Sweet Dreams Sweet Cheeks" there is nothing remotely like them. That's even before we get to the euphoric madness inspired by "You! Me! Dancing!"
British Sea Power were never likely to live up to that but disappoint a little nonetheless. Matters definitely aren't helped by the smallest crowd of the weekend, who aren't even roused by "Waving Flags", aside from a couple of people with (Spanish/pirate) flags of their own. But even beyond that, good but slightly airy songs come off as even airier and only "It Ended on an Oily Stage" comes close to moving. Maybe I missed the best bits by arriving halfway through.
A quick stop for food later (uitsmijter, a bread and fried egg/cheese combo that definitely beats British festival food) it's back to the huge tent for Franz Ferdinand.
They make for a slick and relaxed contrast to the overstretched band that I saw at Glastonbury and Ally Pally a few years ago. A carefully picked set shows off the best side of the mixed second album, and there are few moments of half-surprised memory along the lines of 'oh yeah, "Walk Away" is quite the fantastic drama, huh?'. They also trial quite a few of those long overdue new songs which are promising if not completely convincing.
What makes the set so much better than that quick overview makes it sound is just how on their side the crowd are. There's a celebratory atmosphere even before they become the only act I see to make a stab at (I presume) Dutch that goes beyond 'dank u well'. "Take Me Out" is of course welcomed with open arms, even the guitar part sung along to, but it goes well beyond that and makes an event of almost every song. Somehow even "This Fire" gets turned into a barnstorming finale whose chorus is still being sung well after the band has departed.
Rather different in feel but nearly as enjoyable are headliners Underworld (the other two days had Editors and Anouk if you're interested). It possibly helps to go into the show with virtually no knowledge of their material, as the slowly unfolding intricate rhythyms are all the more hypnotic with no idea where they are heading next. They're helped too by some excellent projections and some fantastic props, in the shape of blow up pillar things that are blown up and pushed over and around and look from a distance intriguingly like spotlights turned solid. And then after about an hour slips by gracefully, there's the inevitable conclusion of "Born Slippy" and the moment that it kicks in and the lights turn on and we all stand arms aloft, grinning broadly. It's the sort of moment that it would be difficult to get wrong at this point, but they make thoroughly sure they don't.
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