Went to Paolo's book launch last Tuesday. Bizarrely, it was at Balls Brothers wine bar on Broadgate in the City - can you get any less Mod? Paolo Hewitt is a top music journalist and writer of books on all things Mod, footy, Weller, Small Faces (you get the picture). Excellent music at the launch - northern soul and Motown, the place was full of snappy dressers in immaculate threads. Love it.
Wednesday was fave gig-in-a-church lark. Accompanied by dear Howard Local, I went to the book launch of James Yorkston's It's Lovely To Be Here: Touring Diaries Of A Scottish Gent. St. Giles' church is a lovely place. We arrived in time for Phillip Selway (Radiohead drummer), but left for the pub after a couple of songs. Sorry, Phillip - I'm sure you're a super chap and not without talent, but it just wasn't happening.
But such a different story when Mr Yorkston hits the altar. He's a joy to listen to, and when he reads from his book, it's hilariously funny and dry. This book is the first publication from his record label Domino's newly founded Domino Press. The cover is a really sweet hand-sewn image of him and his guitar on their travels. I buy a book afterwards, but decide to have it dedicated to a friend (wonder if I can borrow it back soon...?):
Scottish Folk Fuzzy Felt
Thursday brought Ja Ja Ja, a night of Scandinavian mayhem, coordinated by the lovely Andy Inglis, and curated this month by John of Quietus and Phil of Stool Pigeon. I'd already heard tales of Deathcrush - two girls, one boy, much attitude - so when they hit the stage, I was thrilled to see they didn't disappoint. In fact, I can concur with a male friend - the young blonde guitarist would give anyone a hard-on...even me.
Årabrot up next - made me realise I've been watching too much bloody folk. I need an earful of heavy on a regular basis or I'll start thinking morris dancing is a good idea (sorry, Northern Tim - I know this is your latest pastime - you, velvet flares with bells on, pig's bladder on a stick - fuck me, Cecil Sharp House must be wondering what's hit it). If there's one thing Norwegians do well, it's heavy. That, burning churches, explorers and pickled fishy stuff. The sound picked up nicely here, and there were naked men on stage rocking their balls off. Super.
Last but not least, Kellermensch from Denmark - very good, like a metal Arcade Fire with plenty of personnel on stage. Good fiddle player. I'm afraid I got rather drunk, and then the evening took a turn for the interesting and didn't pan out in any way I expected. But all really very good indeed.
Friday was relatively gentle, and I was rather feeble, so hair of the dog with the Boss, followed by nice glass of Red with Mrs B was all I could muster...
Bounced back nicely on Saturday. A full day successfully sourcing props for a Fairy Liquid job was followed by an equally successful trip to Heavy Load. Heavy Load is a top 70's rock night, a haven from all things chart, in fact a haven from the modern world - full stop. The clientele are in stack heels and everyone thinks they're either Anita Pallenberg or Keith Richards circa Morocco '68. Not been for ages, and bizarrely, all the old faces have turned up. Even managed to strut about to The Doors and Small Faces. Great to see Northern Tim (even if he has taken up morris dancing) and Alf and Alex.
Had an invite from Howard Local to the Slaughtered Lamb for an afternoon gig to be filmed for Local TV. I think the premise of this is that The Local will arrange impromptu sets by a handful of artists in town, film them, interview them, then post this on their site/Youtube. Good idea. One of my favourite music things of recent years has to be The Black Cab Sessions. Sterling stuff - get artists currently in town into the back of a London cab, get the driver to introduce the artist, then drive round the streets whilst they are filmed playing a number. Genius thinking and great fun.
The Local had She Keeps Bees, Skinny Lister and Napoleon III on the bill, each to play 3 numbers. She Keeps Bees are amazing. Handsome couple, I've waxed most lyrical about them on this blog in the past. Jess Larrabee is completely gorgeous, with a sultry bluesy voice and wields her guitar in the coolest way. Her man and drummer Andy LaPlant is like her mainstay and watches her every move (and listens to every funny, mad thing she says between songs with a look of love...aaah, romance).
She Keeps Bees (and dogs, by the looks of it)
Skinny Lister are a riot. I first saw them at The End last year - vague memories of sea shanties, singalongs and a girl singer flashing her knickers came flooding back as they all took to the small stage. They're great fun to watch and harmonise well. But no knicker flashing from Lorna - she's wearing shorts. Disappointment all round.
I have to leg it at this point - top songstress and siren to the dark side, PJ Harvey awaits me at The Troxy. The Troxy is an old cinema/bingo hall near Limehouse, now reincarnated as a huge glam Art Deco gig venue. I get picked up by The Boss - this is her treat, and I'm a lucky girl. Once inside, we partake of a little Mr Daniels and coke, and promptly bump into top fella and Blunt photographer Jermaine Francis. Jerms is a right laugh, and introduces us to his friends Kat and Anthea. It turns out Kat is also a photographer, and has snapped PJ for this latest album cover. Anthea runs a record label called Thrill Jockey and we have a good chat about some of her artists (Arbouretum - top stuff - over here end of March - check them out). As I'm chatting to Anthea, I mention the Ja Ja Ja night, and she says it was curated by her best mate, John...and then John Doran turns up! And then, it gets weirder - The Boss realises that she was at infants' school with Anthea 30 years previously. And that Anthea's sister used to teach her synchronised swimming (?!?!?). You know - like you do. Too many coincidences, small world and all that...
Then the lights dim, and the diminutive tour de force that is Miss Polly Harvey takes to the stage. Resplendent in black, with fantastic feathery headdress, she looks tiny but her dinky presence fills that stage and the hall. And so does that voice. John wondered how hard it is to learn autoharp (like I'd know - I had all on mastering Mull Of Kintyre on my acoustic), but she plays it beautifully. It's the most gorgeous, haunting sound and suits this latest album so well. The songs are dark, war torn, ragged, so very English (that'll be why she called it Let England Shake, then - idiot), it had me on first listen. And don't go thinking I'm some überfan - I'm not. I do like her, but not like some of the folk present tonight. I witnessed one tiny brunette pixiette go bloody mental when she came on stage...plenty of old faves played too, she had the place begging for an encore at the climax:
Dark Angel & Her Harp
