Here's a video of The Just Joans opening their set at Indietracks 2012 with a cover of Kenickie's classic Come Out 2Nite
Its a pity I didn't video right from the start of the set where Dave Just Joans stepped to the mic "Hello T in The Park, we are The Stone Roses". That was awesome, as was David's Sleeper T-shirt.
Showing posts with label The Just Joans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Just Joans. Show all posts
Tuesday, 10 July 2012
Thursday, 31 July 2008
Last Night From Glasgow - Indietracks
By the time you read this, you might have seen the wee black and white video I put together of the festival, there's a scene a third of the way through with people playing acoustic sets on a train platform, surrounded by adoring fans. Some reports say it was spontaneous, I disagree, it was carefully calculated and planned.
Well, this is my back story to it.
Earlier in the week Lets Whisper played in London, aw man, I still haven't written up any kind of review of that show. Lets Whisper are like a two piece featuring two members of The Smittens, Colin Clary and Dana Kaplan. I broadly assumed that, well, it was just the same songs as The Smittens play, but cut down. It was nice, twee, heartwarming stuff with cheesy choruses and wide-eyed nodding at the wonders of the world.
Days later the rest of the Smittens arrived and played a show in Glasgow, The Just Joans were support and friends were in the crowd. So after the gig I was online chatting to my friend Robbie who'd been very impressed by The Smittens, chatting to them after the show, they'd heard of this website. After skipping round the room doing dances of self-validation, I returned to my computer to find Robbie talking about how Colin Clary was dancing to The Just Joans. That would be a great music legend to catch on film, and use for cynical promotion and music videos. I decided I would use the Indietracks festival to take such footage.
The last band had played on Saturday, and there was a disco in the diesel shed, Bubblegum Killer DJs were playing, the tunes were good, but I wasn't in the mood for dancing. It takes very specific atmospheric and emotional conditions for me to dance, on Saturday it wasn't happening. Just outside the diesel shed, I found Camila from WeePop chatting to folk, Lets Whisper and Allo Darlin, The Just joans are nearby too. She collars me and asks if I have my guitar with me, aye safely locked up in my car just a wee stroll away. So yeah, we're going to get Colin to play.
I'm away like the wind to pick up my guitar and arrive back at the standing around in a flash. We just need somewhere to play, somewhere quiet and away from the various discos going on. I've been here before, last year, IoMoPS, played a wee set on the platform whilst waiting for a train, I think we roped in Pete Green too, but that was last year. On this warm Saturday night, I lead a small crowd to the station platform, we ousted some young lovers sharing an intimate moment, and we set up.
I pass my guitar to Colin who tunes it, I think there's a ukelele kicking about as well, the really cute bongo player from Allo Darlin has a bag of percussiony instruments and Will Harrison is hanging about too. I quickly drift away from the musical instrument holders lest I get asked to play in front of other people.
And then it kicks off.
Its quiet, people crowd round in silence, the crowd grows, folk sit cross legged. The camera crew who've been following the Just joans all day set up and start recording, people call requests. A strict three song limit is placed on each band, so we get Lets Whisper, Allo Darlin', Will Harrison. Pete Green shuffled in and a set was demanded of him, his Doctor Beeching song about the closure of the railways, particularly appreciated by the passing train drivers.
Lurking at the back of the crowd were The Just Joans, we'd run out of musicy folk at the front of the crowd to force to play, and it was The Just Joans that people wanted to hear. They had no choice in the matter, bashful or no, people were chanting for them, demanding it.
Just three of them, Katie, David and Rowan, the singers, harmonies and guitar. Hey Boy, you're oh so sensitive, What Do We Do Now and I hear you're the man now John. And there if happened, I got my footage of Colin Clary right at the front, bobbing up and down and clapping for The Just Joans. All around are my friends, the bands I love, folk off of the internet, all enjoying, relishing this scene that we built.
I grin and skip, and marvell, absolutely brimming with joy.
I don't want to be a full time promoter or a musician or a writer. I just want to, occasionally, make these little bubbles of magic pop.
Other photies
Obo-Bobo
Favourite Dress
Sunshine Pop
Kronky
WeePop
Kersy83
Will Erskine
Well, this is my back story to it.
Earlier in the week Lets Whisper played in London, aw man, I still haven't written up any kind of review of that show. Lets Whisper are like a two piece featuring two members of The Smittens, Colin Clary and Dana Kaplan. I broadly assumed that, well, it was just the same songs as The Smittens play, but cut down. It was nice, twee, heartwarming stuff with cheesy choruses and wide-eyed nodding at the wonders of the world.
Days later the rest of the Smittens arrived and played a show in Glasgow, The Just Joans were support and friends were in the crowd. So after the gig I was online chatting to my friend Robbie who'd been very impressed by The Smittens, chatting to them after the show, they'd heard of this website. After skipping round the room doing dances of self-validation, I returned to my computer to find Robbie talking about how Colin Clary was dancing to The Just Joans. That would be a great music legend to catch on film, and use for cynical promotion and music videos. I decided I would use the Indietracks festival to take such footage.
The last band had played on Saturday, and there was a disco in the diesel shed, Bubblegum Killer DJs were playing, the tunes were good, but I wasn't in the mood for dancing. It takes very specific atmospheric and emotional conditions for me to dance, on Saturday it wasn't happening. Just outside the diesel shed, I found Camila from WeePop chatting to folk, Lets Whisper and Allo Darlin, The Just joans are nearby too. She collars me and asks if I have my guitar with me, aye safely locked up in my car just a wee stroll away. So yeah, we're going to get Colin to play.
I'm away like the wind to pick up my guitar and arrive back at the standing around in a flash. We just need somewhere to play, somewhere quiet and away from the various discos going on. I've been here before, last year, IoMoPS, played a wee set on the platform whilst waiting for a train, I think we roped in Pete Green too, but that was last year. On this warm Saturday night, I lead a small crowd to the station platform, we ousted some young lovers sharing an intimate moment, and we set up.
I pass my guitar to Colin who tunes it, I think there's a ukelele kicking about as well, the really cute bongo player from Allo Darlin has a bag of percussiony instruments and Will Harrison is hanging about too. I quickly drift away from the musical instrument holders lest I get asked to play in front of other people.
And then it kicks off.
Its quiet, people crowd round in silence, the crowd grows, folk sit cross legged. The camera crew who've been following the Just joans all day set up and start recording, people call requests. A strict three song limit is placed on each band, so we get Lets Whisper, Allo Darlin', Will Harrison. Pete Green shuffled in and a set was demanded of him, his Doctor Beeching song about the closure of the railways, particularly appreciated by the passing train drivers.
Lurking at the back of the crowd were The Just Joans, we'd run out of musicy folk at the front of the crowd to force to play, and it was The Just Joans that people wanted to hear. They had no choice in the matter, bashful or no, people were chanting for them, demanding it.
Just three of them, Katie, David and Rowan, the singers, harmonies and guitar. Hey Boy, you're oh so sensitive, What Do We Do Now and I hear you're the man now John. And there if happened, I got my footage of Colin Clary right at the front, bobbing up and down and clapping for The Just Joans. All around are my friends, the bands I love, folk off of the internet, all enjoying, relishing this scene that we built.
I grin and skip, and marvell, absolutely brimming with joy.
I don't want to be a full time promoter or a musician or a writer. I just want to, occasionally, make these little bubbles of magic pop.
Other photies
Obo-Bobo
Favourite Dress
Sunshine Pop
Kronky
WeePop
Kersy83
Will Erskine
Wednesday, 30 July 2008
The Just Joans - Indietracks
Oh, I've been waiting for this moment for years. This whole website, Last Night From Glasgow Indie Eyespy, it was all a carefully calculated ruse leading up to this moment, when a band what I released an album for, play to a packed room at the UK leading Indie music festival.
How can I even review The Just Joans?
I dunno, so I ask other people.
Holly (the singer's girlfriend) - "They're okay"
Mark (the drummer's boyfriend) - "Bunch of Scottish wankers"
Alan (some kind of hanger-on) - "erm, quite refreshing"
Some quality unbiased view there.
So I've seen them many times before and they keep getting better, you can take this as biased hypobole, but I was there I know. Their first ever gig, at the Tchai Ovna in 2006 was spinetingerling, the place was packed and David Pope was so nervous, but he pulled it off beautiful renditions of tracks off of the first album, then with the Last Night From Glasgow webcasts everything as so much more polished, the Say Dirty show at Brel last year, when I heard some of the new songs for the first time and they blew my mind, then even the WeePop show the other week, the song from the WeePop release highly polish and David centre stage surrounded by his band with real stage presence. And now victorious at Indietracks to winning over a room full of folk seeing them for the first time.
It was weird the applause they got, after the first song, it was the kind of thunderous response you get at the end of a set. Even the howls for an encore at the end, It was overwealming.
The last song, possibly called "If You Don't Pull", three part harmonies and a chorus that you'll be singing in the shower for weeks. I thoroughly endorse the vitriol of hating your friends and bandmates with the frustration of you're own inability to pull.
Bitterness is the new green.
Other photies
Pop Til You Drop
WeePop
How can I even review The Just Joans?
I dunno, so I ask other people.
Holly (the singer's girlfriend) - "They're okay"
Mark (the drummer's boyfriend) - "Bunch of Scottish wankers"
Alan (some kind of hanger-on) - "erm, quite refreshing"
Some quality unbiased view there.
So I've seen them many times before and they keep getting better, you can take this as biased hypobole, but I was there I know. Their first ever gig, at the Tchai Ovna in 2006 was spinetingerling, the place was packed and David Pope was so nervous, but he pulled it off beautiful renditions of tracks off of the first album, then with the Last Night From Glasgow webcasts everything as so much more polished, the Say Dirty show at Brel last year, when I heard some of the new songs for the first time and they blew my mind, then even the WeePop show the other week, the song from the WeePop release highly polish and David centre stage surrounded by his band with real stage presence. And now victorious at Indietracks to winning over a room full of folk seeing them for the first time.
It was weird the applause they got, after the first song, it was the kind of thunderous response you get at the end of a set. Even the howls for an encore at the end, It was overwealming.
The last song, possibly called "If You Don't Pull", three part harmonies and a chorus that you'll be singing in the shower for weeks. I thoroughly endorse the vitriol of hating your friends and bandmates with the frustration of you're own inability to pull.
Bitterness is the new green.
Other photies
Pop Til You Drop
WeePop
Monday, 23 June 2008
Wee Pop: The Darlings, The Mexican Kids At Home, Little My, The Just Joans - The Enterprise
Moments later on the other side of town, I wander into The Enterprise in Camden. the street outside was packed, but inside its kinda quiet, three barmaids leap to my service. Upstairs the venue is packed.
On stage are two people, The Darlings, a singing ukelele girl and a hairy egg-shaker chap. They sounded a little like Hello Saferide. I only caught the last three songs of their set, which is a shame cos amongst their recorded output, they have the best cover of AC/DC's You Shook Me All Night Long, which I've probably missed. I'd been listening it on iTunes all weekend.
Its sweet but generic music.
Next up are a really hairy five piece, The Mexican Kids At Home. They had one of those sitting on a wooden box percussion chaps, its been months since I saw one of them. There was a twee gentleman too, playing melodica, harmonica, keyboards and occasionally "doo doo doo" backing vocals. Topped off with boy and girl harmonies they were ace.
Rather looking forward to seeing them at Indietracks, sunshining, crowd of hundreds.
Its odd, its a really comfortable crowd compared to earlier today. Lost Music, Wee Pop, Pocketbooks, Just Joans, Bobby McGees, them French kids, Bowlie folk from last night. My nerves have calmed and I feel serene.
Its been an unsettled couple of days on the internet, my naked bike ride photies getting hundreds of views on Flickr, my art website rocketing up the Technorati authority rankings, then my origami video on BoingBoing. I've reached the top or at least the upper reaches, there's no more I can do. It does nothing for my tangible self-esteem.
Next on stage, the penultimate band of the night, Little My. Tonight they are a seven-piece, and they wear animal costumes. The bunny on bass is particularly cute. They sound a little like Bearsuit, but without the mania. Some of the songs are pretty neat and would be good listening on the coach home.
I think though, they sound too much like they're used to playing with loads of folk on stage.
One extra thing in their favour, they're bitter about not playing Indietracks and bitterness fucken rocks.
Then finally, one of the most eagerly awaited bands of the indiepop scene, The Just Joans. The buzz of anticipation in the crowd is palpable. I'm biased mind, I've seen them from the start, Adam J Smith passing me their demo cassette, the first gig, a sell out show in a tea room in Glasgow, bursting into London last year. I've seen them get better and better, more confident, more comfortable in their skin.
They're a six piece now, Fraser on bass, Doug on keyboards, Chris on lead guitar and sometimes accordian, Rowan on percussion, sharing vocal duties with Katie, and centre stage, David Pope.
A fine set, with new songs and old ones, polished so they sparkle. The songs are getting better than the old ones.
They have a new EP out on Wee Pop, new songs, "What Do I Do Now" will stick in your head for months, how do we pencil them in for T in the Park '09, joined on stage by Louise Wener. And their even newer song, "You're not gonna pull" is going to set the indie dancefloors on fire.
They name-checked me, they name-checked me. Thanking Thor and Camila from WeePop for their breakfast, and Trev Lost Music for putting on the gig, and then me. My eyes welled up, I was gonna start greeting.
Its been one of those weeks, its been one of those weekends, its been one of those days. But the Just Joans, they made everything okay.
Bands
The Darlings
The Mexican Kids At Home
Little My
The Just Joans
On stage are two people, The Darlings, a singing ukelele girl and a hairy egg-shaker chap. They sounded a little like Hello Saferide. I only caught the last three songs of their set, which is a shame cos amongst their recorded output, they have the best cover of AC/DC's You Shook Me All Night Long, which I've probably missed. I'd been listening it on iTunes all weekend.
Its sweet but generic music.
Next up are a really hairy five piece, The Mexican Kids At Home. They had one of those sitting on a wooden box percussion chaps, its been months since I saw one of them. There was a twee gentleman too, playing melodica, harmonica, keyboards and occasionally "doo doo doo" backing vocals. Topped off with boy and girl harmonies they were ace.
Rather looking forward to seeing them at Indietracks, sunshining, crowd of hundreds.
Its odd, its a really comfortable crowd compared to earlier today. Lost Music, Wee Pop, Pocketbooks, Just Joans, Bobby McGees, them French kids, Bowlie folk from last night. My nerves have calmed and I feel serene.
Its been an unsettled couple of days on the internet, my naked bike ride photies getting hundreds of views on Flickr, my art website rocketing up the Technorati authority rankings, then my origami video on BoingBoing. I've reached the top or at least the upper reaches, there's no more I can do. It does nothing for my tangible self-esteem.
Next on stage, the penultimate band of the night, Little My. Tonight they are a seven-piece, and they wear animal costumes. The bunny on bass is particularly cute. They sound a little like Bearsuit, but without the mania. Some of the songs are pretty neat and would be good listening on the coach home.
I think though, they sound too much like they're used to playing with loads of folk on stage.
One extra thing in their favour, they're bitter about not playing Indietracks and bitterness fucken rocks.
Then finally, one of the most eagerly awaited bands of the indiepop scene, The Just Joans. The buzz of anticipation in the crowd is palpable. I'm biased mind, I've seen them from the start, Adam J Smith passing me their demo cassette, the first gig, a sell out show in a tea room in Glasgow, bursting into London last year. I've seen them get better and better, more confident, more comfortable in their skin.
They're a six piece now, Fraser on bass, Doug on keyboards, Chris on lead guitar and sometimes accordian, Rowan on percussion, sharing vocal duties with Katie, and centre stage, David Pope.
A fine set, with new songs and old ones, polished so they sparkle. The songs are getting better than the old ones.
They have a new EP out on Wee Pop, new songs, "What Do I Do Now" will stick in your head for months, how do we pencil them in for T in the Park '09, joined on stage by Louise Wener. And their even newer song, "You're not gonna pull" is going to set the indie dancefloors on fire.
They name-checked me, they name-checked me. Thanking Thor and Camila from WeePop for their breakfast, and Trev Lost Music for putting on the gig, and then me. My eyes welled up, I was gonna start greeting.
Its been one of those weeks, its been one of those weekends, its been one of those days. But the Just Joans, they made everything okay.
Bands
The Darlings
The Mexican Kids At Home
Little My
The Just Joans
Saturday, 10 November 2007
The Just Joans - Looking Like Rain video
The amazing new video for LNFG favourites, The Just Joans and their song Looking Like Rain
Saturday, 13 October 2007
Twee As Fuck: The Felt Tips, The Just Joans, Stars of Aviation - The MacBeth
Last Night From Glasgow,
Finally The Just Joans have come back to London. Early doors I hand over the CD's I've been making up for them all week and point out Thorsten Sideboard to Dave the lead singer, I'd introduce them, but other than backlinks and awkward eye contact I don't know the guy.
I'm in the chippy next door to the venue and I spy Row Plimp and Katie the backing singers. Cracking chop suey.
So people turn up, huge swaths of the London internet indie royalty, hungry for the album but I've suddenly lost Dave.
First band on are The Felt Tips who shared minibus duties with the Joanses. I'd heard them on the NQRS podcast and they're really nice but tonight they're plsaying as a three piece, acoustic, electric and bass guitars, no drums, they're on top form. Songs about relationships, not so much wholesome as my uncley advice.
We're stood right at the front, with photofolk and it sounds beautiful, gentle even. Between songs the crowd are restless. Their banter big ups the Joanses, which kinda puts them unde pressue.
The Just Joans grasp it well, the last time I saw them as documented here, they were a smaller rawer act, but now they've blossomed into a great big sexy gritty fruit. Whereby if they were a movie, Ken Loach would direct,
They have this magical ability to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. They hit the pressure point to turn my legs to jelly every time. I look around and wonder. Do you feel the same thing, do you remember the times. Oh god, I'm sorry, why did it turn out this way.
Its always been a really personal thing to me, the Just Joanses, some car journey many months ago just me at midnight playing the tape Adam gave me for the first time, somewhere on southside of Glasgow, I don't remember who. How many other people here feel the same. On the door they're actually selling copies of the Just Joans cassette tape.
The song Bellshill Station is about yer boyfriend moving away from glasfgow to London, and I've always become a pool of mush before I find out how it ends. I broke up with my Glasgow last week. Its still raw.
At the back of the room I catch a glimpse of "Helen", not her real name, its Holly, she was the girl in Glasgow's best mate, who's now just moved to London, we're all fans of the Just Joans and it good to see her. I'm surrounded by friends and relics tonight. If I wasn't made of jagged stone I'd be in tears.
But Helen's here and we're sharing memories. The Just Joan's are the perfect soundtrack as I glance around.
Katie and Row's vocals catch the room off guard, people staring at the stage enraptured, different memories, but the same emotions.
Helen's quite drunk, or seems quite drunk and the Stars of Aviation take to the stage. I've been talking them up to Helen with their singalong songs and talking in Frenchy goodness and so many instruments on stage and all the goodness. But time passes and we've had three of four drinks and the Helen is getting strangely affectionate which is so inappropriate and I'm just wanting to hide in a familiar corner and scribble about bands, invisible and epic.
Time passes and I stagger to the door to chat to Uma Thurman about album sales and where the Joanses are staying tonight, Helen wanders off and a few minutes later a girl wanders over and asks me,
"Were you here with a girl in a red dress?"
"Yeah"
"erm, she's kind of fallen over"
So I wander back in and find a small crowd of people around Helen, feeding her water and keeping her from slumpuing onto the floor.
The guy holding her head looking at me and after a few seconds asked if I was on Bowlie.
My teeth gnash and grind, I snarl a little. There's mixed bag of feeling for that internet messageboard and despite this site, the phenominal success of my nuddy art site, the record label, the video webcasts of yesteryear, the third place and Glasgow, tonight feelings run fresh and raw. How much more successful could the Just Joanses be if I could have brought them to London last year, if the fans who follow them now caught them a year earlier, and the shot in the foot was Bowlie and me being banned from there...
"yes"
Ben, recognising me from the Bowlie Alldayer 2004, as mentioned recently elsewhere.
Ben is a hero not just an alias. Whilst I am a suspect for spiking Helen's drink in their heids, he's got her student card and is tracking down an address hwe can get her to in safe hands.
I'm texting and calling the girl in Glasgow slightly too slowly. I find black hack taxis but none who'll take her in her drunken and spewing state. Ben and his friends are nursing Helen, holding her heid out of her pool of vomit. I'm making a mess of trying to get her to drink water, they find a way to a minicab place.
They keep her company in a taxi safely home. I'm staggering the streets about 3 hours away from where I stay, wondering what happened to the night that started so well, why night's like this always turn out badly and who I ought to be apologising to.
Finally The Just Joans have come back to London. Early doors I hand over the CD's I've been making up for them all week and point out Thorsten Sideboard to Dave the lead singer, I'd introduce them, but other than backlinks and awkward eye contact I don't know the guy.
I'm in the chippy next door to the venue and I spy Row Plimp and Katie the backing singers. Cracking chop suey.
So people turn up, huge swaths of the London internet indie royalty, hungry for the album but I've suddenly lost Dave.
First band on are The Felt Tips who shared minibus duties with the Joanses. I'd heard them on the NQRS podcast and they're really nice but tonight they're plsaying as a three piece, acoustic, electric and bass guitars, no drums, they're on top form. Songs about relationships, not so much wholesome as my uncley advice.
We're stood right at the front, with photofolk and it sounds beautiful, gentle even. Between songs the crowd are restless. Their banter big ups the Joanses, which kinda puts them unde pressue.
The Just Joans grasp it well, the last time I saw them as documented here, they were a smaller rawer act, but now they've blossomed into a great big sexy gritty fruit. Whereby if they were a movie, Ken Loach would direct,
They have this magical ability to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. They hit the pressure point to turn my legs to jelly every time. I look around and wonder. Do you feel the same thing, do you remember the times. Oh god, I'm sorry, why did it turn out this way.
Its always been a really personal thing to me, the Just Joanses, some car journey many months ago just me at midnight playing the tape Adam gave me for the first time, somewhere on southside of Glasgow, I don't remember who. How many other people here feel the same. On the door they're actually selling copies of the Just Joans cassette tape.
The song Bellshill Station is about yer boyfriend moving away from glasfgow to London, and I've always become a pool of mush before I find out how it ends. I broke up with my Glasgow last week. Its still raw.
At the back of the room I catch a glimpse of "Helen", not her real name, its Holly, she was the girl in Glasgow's best mate, who's now just moved to London, we're all fans of the Just Joans and it good to see her. I'm surrounded by friends and relics tonight. If I wasn't made of jagged stone I'd be in tears.
But Helen's here and we're sharing memories. The Just Joan's are the perfect soundtrack as I glance around.
Katie and Row's vocals catch the room off guard, people staring at the stage enraptured, different memories, but the same emotions.
Helen's quite drunk, or seems quite drunk and the Stars of Aviation take to the stage. I've been talking them up to Helen with their singalong songs and talking in Frenchy goodness and so many instruments on stage and all the goodness. But time passes and we've had three of four drinks and the Helen is getting strangely affectionate which is so inappropriate and I'm just wanting to hide in a familiar corner and scribble about bands, invisible and epic.
Time passes and I stagger to the door to chat to Uma Thurman about album sales and where the Joanses are staying tonight, Helen wanders off and a few minutes later a girl wanders over and asks me,
"Were you here with a girl in a red dress?"
"Yeah"
"erm, she's kind of fallen over"
So I wander back in and find a small crowd of people around Helen, feeding her water and keeping her from slumpuing onto the floor.
The guy holding her head looking at me and after a few seconds asked if I was on Bowlie.
My teeth gnash and grind, I snarl a little. There's mixed bag of feeling for that internet messageboard and despite this site, the phenominal success of my nuddy art site, the record label, the video webcasts of yesteryear, the third place and Glasgow, tonight feelings run fresh and raw. How much more successful could the Just Joanses be if I could have brought them to London last year, if the fans who follow them now caught them a year earlier, and the shot in the foot was Bowlie and me being banned from there...
"yes"
Ben, recognising me from the Bowlie Alldayer 2004, as mentioned recently elsewhere.
Ben is a hero not just an alias. Whilst I am a suspect for spiking Helen's drink in their heids, he's got her student card and is tracking down an address hwe can get her to in safe hands.
I'm texting and calling the girl in Glasgow slightly too slowly. I find black hack taxis but none who'll take her in her drunken and spewing state. Ben and his friends are nursing Helen, holding her heid out of her pool of vomit. I'm making a mess of trying to get her to drink water, they find a way to a minicab place.
They keep her company in a taxi safely home. I'm staggering the streets about 3 hours away from where I stay, wondering what happened to the night that started so well, why night's like this always turn out badly and who I ought to be apologising to.
Friday, 20 July 2007
The Just Joans, Pikelet, The Love Gestures, Darren Hanlon - The Hive
It started with The Other Chris on reception phoning through a message for me, "Can you look after Amydog?". I'd only met Amydog twice before, but a swift phonecall to southwest CHCP confirmed it, I was required to take a dog for a walk. Could easily fit it in before nipping across to Edinburgh.
So it was I acquired Amy, a shar pei, all creases, frowns and drool, from her mistress outside Kelvingrove Art Gallery.
It let her lead me, she had a far better idea of where it was we were going, I'd never taken a dog for a walk before. About forty minutes was how long we were supposed to be together, so we wandered round Kelvingrove Park, chasing squirrels, getting chatted up by small children and moaning about the weather. It was overcast, but not very rainy, just moist. So at the vaguely allotted time I returned to the Art Gallery and we waited.
No sign of the mistress, but there was lots of grass to be sniffed and joggers to scare, so we wandered off again. I took Amy to a petrol station to top up my mobile phone, we wandered round the park again, we wandered streets, we made friends with other dog enthusiasts. I made up lies about Amy, about whom I knew nothing.
So after three hours together, I was cold, wet and tired. Her mistress came back, Amy was ecstatic, and rather than heading tot he pub for a thank you beer, I bade my farewells and headedd off. Amy wanted to come too and through herself into the path of several cars to catch up with me.
"No Amy, you're probably not the target audience for The Just Joans, you won't think much of them."
Edinburgh: an hour later, I missed the Joanses, but chatted to them at the bar in The Hive, the a rescheduled venue after I'd gone to The Arc first.
An unassuming girl who looked suspiciously boyish sits alone, midstage, surrounded by instruments, her feet pummelling an effects box. Its rather useful that her first song was crap as you can gauge the rest of her set was so much better.
I used to be impressed by girl with a voice, an acoustic guitar and a reverb / delay / tape loop pedal. But after Astrid, Ceylan and that girl who did the half-arsed cover of "Crazy", tonight's multi-layered vocal chorus seemed just naff. Luckily the rest of the set did it all so much better.
Glokenspiels multitracked and pitch-shifted. Accordian single note drones as an entire song's backing track. Building up an entire drum track, like on a drum machine, one real drum at a time and a tape loop.
I think my favourite song, about why people work at a sewage plant, they lost their goldfish when they were young, seemed to invoke Badalamenti. Multi-layered guitars and even more multi-layered vocals, sounded refreshingly Twin Peaksy. I couldn't place the vocals, although just one girl, it sounded at time like a clunky folk ensemble or a reverb drenched shoegazer moment from the mid-nineties.
Next up were The Love Gestures they are the missing link between Anal Beard, The Hector Collectors and Hefner. Its the drumkit lashed together on top of a chair with gaffer tape and folk using wooden spoons as drumsicks wot gives it away. The waivering vocals build on this, turning to microphoneless howls of frustration when the songs demand it. The backbone to the majestic sound being the unstoppably professional bass twinned with a mic'ed up plucked cello played by...
So I was writing up The Love Gestures when I was accosted by an inquisitive member of the audience, "Are you writing a review? Who for?..." She'd never heard of Last Night From Glasgow Indie Eyespy (this site). Its a niche market I guess, she'd probably never heard of Sir Harry Kroto either but that's not to say he isn't successful.
Whilst we vaguely agreed about the last two bands, she didn't think much of the Just Joans, advising me not to even bother writing about them, "They had songs about going to the union on Friday afternoons." Ach, she was young and so naive, one day she'll be old, disillusioned and cynical like the rest of us, and will accept that The Just Joan are the voice of a generation.
Our conversation was interrupted by Darren Hanlon hitting the stage.
He's a warm and talented chap, a master of the craft of guitar playing and singing at the same time. And he does write some fine lyrics. For the first few songs he's stood alone on stage with a guitar plugged into Love Gesture's amp, in the traditional travelling troubador style. He's joined halfway through by Pikelet / Evelyn on drums, but it adds little to the performance.
The crowd enjoy him immensly, probly cos they're 50% Australian, amorous couples weaving intertwined, some perky girl I snogged years ago not recognising me, old acquaintances from Edinburgh Uni's Indiesoc.
Its the between song banter that's the nicest, the wonders of British crisp flavourings, buffets laid out by the promoter's parents, uncomfortable kuola bear inspired videos.
I was tired and cold and hungry, I had a long drive back to Glasgow, so I slipped out early, missing Darren's last few songs.
Threads
here
So it was I acquired Amy, a shar pei, all creases, frowns and drool, from her mistress outside Kelvingrove Art Gallery.
It let her lead me, she had a far better idea of where it was we were going, I'd never taken a dog for a walk before. About forty minutes was how long we were supposed to be together, so we wandered round Kelvingrove Park, chasing squirrels, getting chatted up by small children and moaning about the weather. It was overcast, but not very rainy, just moist. So at the vaguely allotted time I returned to the Art Gallery and we waited.
No sign of the mistress, but there was lots of grass to be sniffed and joggers to scare, so we wandered off again. I took Amy to a petrol station to top up my mobile phone, we wandered round the park again, we wandered streets, we made friends with other dog enthusiasts. I made up lies about Amy, about whom I knew nothing.
So after three hours together, I was cold, wet and tired. Her mistress came back, Amy was ecstatic, and rather than heading tot he pub for a thank you beer, I bade my farewells and headedd off. Amy wanted to come too and through herself into the path of several cars to catch up with me.
"No Amy, you're probably not the target audience for The Just Joans, you won't think much of them."
Edinburgh: an hour later, I missed the Joanses, but chatted to them at the bar in The Hive, the a rescheduled venue after I'd gone to The Arc first.
An unassuming girl who looked suspiciously boyish sits alone, midstage, surrounded by instruments, her feet pummelling an effects box. Its rather useful that her first song was crap as you can gauge the rest of her set was so much better.
I used to be impressed by girl with a voice, an acoustic guitar and a reverb / delay / tape loop pedal. But after Astrid, Ceylan and that girl who did the half-arsed cover of "Crazy", tonight's multi-layered vocal chorus seemed just naff. Luckily the rest of the set did it all so much better.
Glokenspiels multitracked and pitch-shifted. Accordian single note drones as an entire song's backing track. Building up an entire drum track, like on a drum machine, one real drum at a time and a tape loop.
I think my favourite song, about why people work at a sewage plant, they lost their goldfish when they were young, seemed to invoke Badalamenti. Multi-layered guitars and even more multi-layered vocals, sounded refreshingly Twin Peaksy. I couldn't place the vocals, although just one girl, it sounded at time like a clunky folk ensemble or a reverb drenched shoegazer moment from the mid-nineties.
Next up were The Love Gestures they are the missing link between Anal Beard, The Hector Collectors and Hefner. Its the drumkit lashed together on top of a chair with gaffer tape and folk using wooden spoons as drumsicks wot gives it away. The waivering vocals build on this, turning to microphoneless howls of frustration when the songs demand it. The backbone to the majestic sound being the unstoppably professional bass twinned with a mic'ed up plucked cello played by...
So I was writing up The Love Gestures when I was accosted by an inquisitive member of the audience, "Are you writing a review? Who for?..." She'd never heard of Last Night From Glasgow Indie Eyespy (this site). Its a niche market I guess, she'd probably never heard of Sir Harry Kroto either but that's not to say he isn't successful.
Whilst we vaguely agreed about the last two bands, she didn't think much of the Just Joans, advising me not to even bother writing about them, "They had songs about going to the union on Friday afternoons." Ach, she was young and so naive, one day she'll be old, disillusioned and cynical like the rest of us, and will accept that The Just Joan are the voice of a generation.
Our conversation was interrupted by Darren Hanlon hitting the stage.
He's a warm and talented chap, a master of the craft of guitar playing and singing at the same time. And he does write some fine lyrics. For the first few songs he's stood alone on stage with a guitar plugged into Love Gesture's amp, in the traditional travelling troubador style. He's joined halfway through by Pikelet / Evelyn on drums, but it adds little to the performance.
The crowd enjoy him immensly, probly cos they're 50% Australian, amorous couples weaving intertwined, some perky girl I snogged years ago not recognising me, old acquaintances from Edinburgh Uni's Indiesoc.
Its the between song banter that's the nicest, the wonders of British crisp flavourings, buffets laid out by the promoter's parents, uncomfortable kuola bear inspired videos.
I was tired and cold and hungry, I had a long drive back to Glasgow, so I slipped out early, missing Darren's last few songs.
Threads
here
Sunday, 22 April 2007
The Just Joans, Babybones, 18 Wheels - Drive Carefully Records - 13th Note
The Just Joans were really good apparently, better than last night. I was trudging my way across town, missing them, arriving in time to catch the second band setting up.
Babybones. Shouty shouty, Joy Joy and discussions about how the shouty girl's hair has changed since last time they played a Drive Carefully night. She'd had it curlier and tied back tightly, now it bares a striking resemblance to a girl I knew in Sweden.
Oop, an ex-flatmate is here, she still owes me about seventy quid from a phonebill from 2001.
18 Wheels, fronted by a gentleman whos a cross between Eddie Izzard and Oliver Reed, lurging around the stage self-assuredly. The Deep Fried Wolfknuckles should aim for him.
Rather fast guitar garage rock with mumbled rambling lyrics. Cool lead guitar, nice use of effects there. The Rhythm guitar, a beat up acoustic with pickups taped on, played round the guy's knees.
Guitarist and bassist leaning back on each other, forming a wee ho down tunnel, that the singer chuckled at and demolished.
"Goodnight Glasgow!"
I wrote off the debt years ago, after about six months of nagging, phonecalls and text messages. Doesn't mean I've forgotten or want to be like all friends with her and owt.
And so it was, tagging along with the Drive Carefully Crew to their traditional aftershow venue, the Barfly, colliding with the mighty Obscura aftershow entourage. Bless.
"Goodnight Glasgow"
Reviews
here
Photies
here
Babybones. Shouty shouty, Joy Joy and discussions about how the shouty girl's hair has changed since last time they played a Drive Carefully night. She'd had it curlier and tied back tightly, now it bares a striking resemblance to a girl I knew in Sweden.
Oop, an ex-flatmate is here, she still owes me about seventy quid from a phonebill from 2001.
18 Wheels, fronted by a gentleman whos a cross between Eddie Izzard and Oliver Reed, lurging around the stage self-assuredly. The Deep Fried Wolfknuckles should aim for him.
Rather fast guitar garage rock with mumbled rambling lyrics. Cool lead guitar, nice use of effects there. The Rhythm guitar, a beat up acoustic with pickups taped on, played round the guy's knees.
Guitarist and bassist leaning back on each other, forming a wee ho down tunnel, that the singer chuckled at and demolished.
"Goodnight Glasgow!"
I wrote off the debt years ago, after about six months of nagging, phonecalls and text messages. Doesn't mean I've forgotten or want to be like all friends with her and owt.
And so it was, tagging along with the Drive Carefully Crew to their traditional aftershow venue, the Barfly, colliding with the mighty Obscura aftershow entourage. Bless.
"Goodnight Glasgow"
Reviews
here
Photies
here
Saturday, 21 April 2007
Unknown Forces, The Plimptons, Les Enfant Bastard, The Just Joans, Catface - The Captain's Rest
Walked straight past the Captain's Rest, seeking out a free cash machine, the one outside the Shell/Sainsburys was nearest, but even then one of the buttons was broken, and we all got a free recipt.
Meanwhile at the venue, Adam's fretting. The downside of having half a dozen bands playing in a venue this size is that there's not quite enough room for paying customers, like myself. More significantly, this is the launch night for The Littlest Album 3. Twelve songs, under a minute long, by twelve bands, all on one 7" vinyl record, still at the pressing plant about 400 miles away.
It starts.
What is this glitchy noodly pish? Some quiet looking chap sat with his guitar plugged into a laptop. Hmm, I recognise this 200Hz sine wave, and despite the chap's enthusiastic smiling, its still pish. He did apologise to the audience, mind.
Bah, who am I trying to kid? I was listening to The KLF's seminal 1990 ambiant album, Chill Out earlier today and it sounds very much like this chap is just doing his own live remix. Live!! On Stage!!! For One Night Only!!
Plimptons slowly make their way to the stage, in dribs and drabs, painfully slowly, but the rest of the audience don't mind, it just lowers the bar I guess.
They start with Ocean Colour Ressurrection, a 90's/60's Britpop pastiche, tonight possibly missing several instruments and microphones due to them not being plugged in. This is why bands usually have soundchecks.
"I quite enjoyed it, I found it an exhilarating experience"
I dream that not just one day, Adam will remember to hold his microphone to his mouth when his singles and actually verbalise every line, but will do it every single time he's on stage.
"Aw, don't ask me man, I've seen the 10 times this year"
Playing Impulse Records, their Pulp-ish song at 3 time normal speed could have been a stroke of genius.
"It was good... brief..."
Les Enfant Bastards, a three piece tonight with Rowan Plimpton on drums, a cello and male singer with guitar and harmonica. Sounded like a male Joanan Newsom, maybe even like like Hefner, one of the band's top influences.
"I quite enjoyed it, found it an exhilarating experience.
Next up were the Just Joans, the audeince are drunk, and not so much restless, but they've been there for ages, and you know, things and stuff. Rowan's back on stage, playing drunks for the third band of the night and the fourth band of the past twenty four hours, (Tibi Lubin last night apparently).
Shame the crowd were talking loudly all through, these things happen, its a risk you take playing gentle quiet music about Motherwell.
"Do you think the Just Joans were putting on an accent?"
Row's drumming seemed to... slow it down a little, or maybe, it just punctuated the song, in a funny way.
Holly and her crew arrived in time to catch The Just Joans's final song.
A bit of a tragedy unfolds as the final act of the evening, Alex Botten, of Thee Moths, Catface, Lipsick! and other, plays just a one minute set, a rendition of his track on the Littlest Album.
Adam assures me the records should be available at the next album launch night, next weekend at the 13th Note. I hope so.
Reviews
here
here
Meanwhile at the venue, Adam's fretting. The downside of having half a dozen bands playing in a venue this size is that there's not quite enough room for paying customers, like myself. More significantly, this is the launch night for The Littlest Album 3. Twelve songs, under a minute long, by twelve bands, all on one 7" vinyl record, still at the pressing plant about 400 miles away.
It starts.
What is this glitchy noodly pish? Some quiet looking chap sat with his guitar plugged into a laptop. Hmm, I recognise this 200Hz sine wave, and despite the chap's enthusiastic smiling, its still pish. He did apologise to the audience, mind.
Bah, who am I trying to kid? I was listening to The KLF's seminal 1990 ambiant album, Chill Out earlier today and it sounds very much like this chap is just doing his own live remix. Live!! On Stage!!! For One Night Only!!
Plimptons slowly make their way to the stage, in dribs and drabs, painfully slowly, but the rest of the audience don't mind, it just lowers the bar I guess.
They start with Ocean Colour Ressurrection, a 90's/60's Britpop pastiche, tonight possibly missing several instruments and microphones due to them not being plugged in. This is why bands usually have soundchecks.
"I quite enjoyed it, I found it an exhilarating experience"
I dream that not just one day, Adam will remember to hold his microphone to his mouth when his singles and actually verbalise every line, but will do it every single time he's on stage.
"Aw, don't ask me man, I've seen the 10 times this year"
Playing Impulse Records, their Pulp-ish song at 3 time normal speed could have been a stroke of genius.
"It was good... brief..."
Les Enfant Bastards, a three piece tonight with Rowan Plimpton on drums, a cello and male singer with guitar and harmonica. Sounded like a male Joanan Newsom, maybe even like like Hefner, one of the band's top influences.
"I quite enjoyed it, found it an exhilarating experience.
Next up were the Just Joans, the audeince are drunk, and not so much restless, but they've been there for ages, and you know, things and stuff. Rowan's back on stage, playing drunks for the third band of the night and the fourth band of the past twenty four hours, (Tibi Lubin last night apparently).
Shame the crowd were talking loudly all through, these things happen, its a risk you take playing gentle quiet music about Motherwell.
"Do you think the Just Joans were putting on an accent?"
Row's drumming seemed to... slow it down a little, or maybe, it just punctuated the song, in a funny way.
Holly and her crew arrived in time to catch The Just Joans's final song.
A bit of a tragedy unfolds as the final act of the evening, Alex Botten, of Thee Moths, Catface, Lipsick! and other, plays just a one minute set, a rendition of his track on the Littlest Album.
Adam assures me the records should be available at the next album launch night, next weekend at the 13th Note. I hope so.
Reviews
here
here
Thursday, 29 March 2007
Conor Mason, The Just Joans, Willy Campbell - Out to Play - Brel
Brel, and I swear there's only ten gig-going people in this town. Colin off of the internet is here and a couple from The Hermit Crabs.
So I wandered in about two songs into the first guy's set, Connor Mason, and got busy scoping the crowd and the venue. We're in a conservatory, laid out with rows of chairs reminiscent of Sunday School. I was being distracted by flashing lights and poorly placed pot plants, but caught the odd glimpse of genius from the stage.
He was sat on a deck chair with semi-acoustic guitar abnd a harmonica round his neck. The sound in here is amazing, he was barely whispering but it came through clear and beautiful. Winsom and drify, caught floating through a dream.
The quiet bloke from the door shuffles to the front, near the stage and takes an empty seat in front of the whole audience, and indicates "one song left".
I make CDs for The Just Joans. They have poignant writ right through. Here, tonight, playing in the shadow of Glasgow university, Dave starts with 'Friday Afternoons', about drinking in the union as an undergraduate.
Och, Cool uncle Stu is here and possibly a member of B&S near the back, Ali's passing out fliers for Drunk at the Pulpit, I hardly recognised her with new hair style.
The whole Just Joans vibe sounds confessional, getting dumped, drunken indiscretions, losing friends, its all been carefully honed over the years. Chris on lead guitar, has played in countless other bands, tonight my favourite bit of his guitar craftis the wee descending line in 'Lookin' like Rain' on the third rep of 'Dumped by my lassie, down at the Strathy'.
The headline act of the night is Willy Campbell, with a backing band. I thought he sounded a bit like Joe Mac from Superstar, some weird pedal-induced vocal effects. Despite proclaimed nervousness, he had great rapport with the audience and his band: keyboard, second guitar and cello.
Actually, the girl on cello looked kinda familiar, I think she was an MSN contact of mine for a month or so two years back, we never spoke in real life, I think I once made eye contact with her twice at a gig, which is almost the same as talking.
Kind of magical songs, he kept on drifting away from the mic, but sang out so he barely needed it.
So I wandered in about two songs into the first guy's set, Connor Mason, and got busy scoping the crowd and the venue. We're in a conservatory, laid out with rows of chairs reminiscent of Sunday School. I was being distracted by flashing lights and poorly placed pot plants, but caught the odd glimpse of genius from the stage.
He was sat on a deck chair with semi-acoustic guitar abnd a harmonica round his neck. The sound in here is amazing, he was barely whispering but it came through clear and beautiful. Winsom and drify, caught floating through a dream.
The quiet bloke from the door shuffles to the front, near the stage and takes an empty seat in front of the whole audience, and indicates "one song left".
I make CDs for The Just Joans. They have poignant writ right through. Here, tonight, playing in the shadow of Glasgow university, Dave starts with 'Friday Afternoons', about drinking in the union as an undergraduate.
Och, Cool uncle Stu is here and possibly a member of B&S near the back, Ali's passing out fliers for Drunk at the Pulpit, I hardly recognised her with new hair style.
The whole Just Joans vibe sounds confessional, getting dumped, drunken indiscretions, losing friends, its all been carefully honed over the years. Chris on lead guitar, has played in countless other bands, tonight my favourite bit of his guitar craftis the wee descending line in 'Lookin' like Rain' on the third rep of 'Dumped by my lassie, down at the Strathy'.
The headline act of the night is Willy Campbell, with a backing band. I thought he sounded a bit like Joe Mac from Superstar, some weird pedal-induced vocal effects. Despite proclaimed nervousness, he had great rapport with the audience and his band: keyboard, second guitar and cello.
Actually, the girl on cello looked kinda familiar, I think she was an MSN contact of mine for a month or so two years back, we never spoke in real life, I think I once made eye contact with her twice at a gig, which is almost the same as talking.
Kind of magical songs, he kept on drifting away from the mic, but sang out so he barely needed it.
Sunday, 11 March 2007
The Just Joans, The Fischers - Woodside Social Club
Maybe thirty people here at the Winchester Club after 40 minutes, including the bands, I'm in the company of Holly and Katherine, trying to figure out the seven deadly sins before the bands come on.
- Greed
- Sloth
- Wasting chicken
- Slabbering
- Pride
- Being from Bolton
- Prejudice/Lust/Envy, etc
"I love playing Glasgow, cos its the same latitude as my mind"
"Tap yer da, 65p"
Adam glimpses round the crowd, checking expressions on people's faces, seeking approval for the Just Joans. There's fourty people here and the songs are about any of them. We've all been there, Friday Afternoon's drinking Guiness in the Union.
Three songs in and the punters are restless, new people arrived, talking loudly, they haven't been lulled into the music, but thats okay, the songs have become bitter and aggressive.
Aw man, they played a new song, from The Littlest Album, its about when your girlfriend moves to London, it makes me want to cry.
The room has become divided, to the left, a table of people chatting loudly, and everyone else in the room glaring evily. The atmosphere is grim, but it'd be worse if someone wandered over, snapped a bottle in half and jabbed the broken end into the eyes of whichever bleach blonde drunkard it is who keeps squeeling when something amuses her.
My companions from the internet from the other night lurk on the other side of the room. I wonder what they make of it.
Reviews range from "Good, yeah, good" to "Excellent", passing through "Fucking unbelievable"
The Fischers are in a different playing field, they have a drummer and backing vocals, but somehow I'm not convinced.
But they seem to have brought their own crowd of friends, maybe thats what keeps The Winchester alive, friends of bands, and us. This mob's seem to be mature, but good looking.
I'm loving the drummer, his gurning really turns this into a performance.
"It must be weird playing to an empty dancefloor, save the guy who booked the band, who looks like Holly's mum's boyfriend"
Sounds quite nineties, but with yodelling backing vocals and with a poor man's Alex James on bass.
Ooh, Graham from PinUp Nights is here
Whilst some would say Britpop pish, I reckon they were kind of okay, I just didn't connect with the music. Aye there were nice touches, but as a whole, no, not my cup of tea.
So after the bands, its DJs playing CDs, and I start to suspect that the guys on the dancefloor may be taking the piss just a little too much. Is that really what you want as a DJ, "Music to take the piss to"?
Not sure whether I can claim points for seeing Mark from Older and Faraway or Big Duncan again, those guys are everywhere.
Its almost like Electro-clash never died.
"Why must there be this excruciating wait for the DJ to play some fucking Prince? Also notice how ye think, man, everyone on the dancefloor looks like a bit of a dickhead, but of course when I dance its poetry in motion, obviously" - KM
"Don't you ever notice that its only anti-social/pretentious dickheads who write in a reporters notebook to themselves when they are at a sociable event!" - HG
Ooh, I think Adam sold a copy of The Just Joans album to Uncle Stuart
Other reviews:-
here
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