Cats On Fire - The Windmill

They're a gaunt looking mob, Cats On Fire from Finland. Kind of sound like The Smiths minus Gene, with plinky plonky keyboards. A little bit of Runrig too, when they have vocal harmonies kicking in.

I'm not sure how much like them playing live compared to how they sound on Spotify. At times the sound's a lot richer, but other times the vocals have lost something.

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Je Suis Animal - The Windmill

Have I seen this mob before? Je Suis Animal don't look familiar, they're like one of these PopFest or Indietracks bands. Someone stood nearby is wearing strong perfume. It smells like sherbert, aw man, I should have bought some in the between band gap.

I think Je Suis Animal are from Oslo, they're a five-piece, two guitar girls from the sixties at the front and St John McKeown from the Yummy Fur on guitar on the left side of the stage. Aw man, four of them are on guitars. Its a bit of an overwealming wall of guitars sound, a little Sons and Daughters-ish, but more upbeat, with thems indiepop girl vocals.

Occasional flashes of Stereolab too, it'll be the keyboardy noodles that do it and throbbing driving bass.

The singing girl looks a bit rockabilly.

I imagine seeing this band with the sun shining rather than at night.

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Little My - The Windmill

There was debate earlier this month with my attractive young ladyfriend, about whether they are Little My or Little My pronounced Moo as in the Finnish or Russian pronunciation of y as ooh.

Tonight only on chap in an animal costume, but the rest of them wear animal ears. They verbally confirm the My pronunciation. My ladyfriend will be disappointed.

More strings, treble and reverb than I remember from last time.

They're on form tonight, with twenty-sic people on stage, seventeen of them guitarists, no drummer, and still the violin was audible. Vocals could have done with being a touch louder and the toy megaphone, that I couldn't hear at all. Maybe it was where I was standing.

They're jolly good fun, mind. I rank this as one of the top five shows of their's that I've seen.

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Electophonvintage - The Windmill

In addition to the usual ubiquitous french Electrophonvintage kids, the guitar and drummer chaps from Pocketbooks take to the stage, but Ian's on bass.

It must have been at least six months since I was at The Windmill, its a summer venue, for gigs where its warm enough to sit outside between bands. Familiar faces in the crowd tonight, the rest of Pocketbooks, Camilla from WeePop, Marianthi from Spiral Scratch and El Presidente from Fortuna.

Its very pastoral music on stage. I think I said that first time I saw them, that 'Country where you're not' is probly their most pastoral, everything else seems heavier tonight, more driven.

And I've never noticed how often the girl leaves the stage, did that always happen? I think I prefer the songs she plays on to the ones where she doesn't. The sound man had a little trouble with her melodica, it was like there were wolfnotes where you could only hear it sometimes.

I'm going to have to scrape some of their recordings from somewhere, its good music for car journeys in the summertime with someone you love.

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LOLRUS ILX festival: The Red Bulldozers, Pinefox - The Windmill

The shitting Lolrus ILX Alldayer. Its too warm.

Father, my soul is lost, deep inside there is furious anger and bitterness. I am in foul mood. This you already knew, but just to be crystal clear, unlike the usual stodge of my prose, I ouht to explain, in detail.

I am pissed off for the following reasons:-

• Ken was clear to stress that The Red Bulldozers start at 5pm, it is now half past. I'd been swimming naked with friends in Camden Lock and had to leave them early to be here.
• I was stood at the bar for a long time in urgent need of a drink and the lone barman missed me a few too many times.
• I could have sworn this was supposed to be a free show, but alas I was mugged for a fiver and now have not enough money to buy a drink
• The club night last night, HDIF, was shit for the second month running, the music was shite, the dancefloor was full of people standing and talking and the girls were intimidating
• Folk spreading shit about me on the internet
• Stress at work
• I appear to be invisible
• My trusty black leather jacket is falling apart
• This fucking notebook
• My finger hurts
• And this one time I discovered that if I search for my name in google, but spell it with a 1 instead of an l, there were folk talking about me on ILX

I'll do a pie chart later to illustrate how much each of these things have pissed me off right now.

Thank fuck I get to blow this joint and head to the Just Joans gig later, even then, they're playing the cunting Enterprise. This shit never lets up does it.

Time passes and there's still no sign of the cunting cockknocking Ken Reddozers playing. However, here's a picture Ken drew of me and him spunking over Rosie Rabbit. The mind boggles.

Christ I need a piss. I should have gone in Camden.

Its not all gloom and doom and trouble. Tricity Bendix led me away to a small park nearby where there was actually a real life windmill. A windmill in the middle of London, and a fine looking windmill too. I took photies.

Back at the venue, food is coming out of the barbeque and there's some band on stage soundchecking. They have flutes and sound like fourth era B&S.

Soon they fuck off and make way for Red Ken's Cockdozers, well, just Ken stood centre stage with his guitar, waiting patiently for his laptop to reboot.

There was banter, awkward self-aggrandising banter that the crowd just ate up. Crowd of familiar internet folk and folk from other bands.

My natural shyness keeps me from mingling and also these moodswings are playing hell with my ability to communicate.

He did a rather fun re-working of Johnny Cash's Jackson, but about Brixton, and his evergreen Christmas song, "Christmas So Cold", that went down a treat. This could almost be the hotest day of the year.

Its a quick changeover for the next band, catching off gurd the folk out back, snacking on the barbeque and the folk out front enjoying the sunshine. Not sure who the band is, the band list has gone to shit and I could have sworn some of them stormed off refusing to play.

They're a five piece with keyboards and flute. A bit Rick Wakeman prog rock with what sounds like the singer from Butcher Boy and Moody Blues epic adventure of the mind.

I feel immensly uncomfortable and leave.

Bands
The Red Bull Dozer s
Pinefox?

Arthur and Martha, Elika, Eat Lights Become Lights - The Windmill

Well, it gets me out of the house on a Friday night, and I'm going to miss that when its all over. Took me over and hour and a half to get to Brixton this evening, I ought to go to more shows in Nottingham, its quicker.

Thought I'd missed tonight's opening act, Arthur and Martha, but they leapt to the stage a few minutes after I arrived. The first couple of songs were kind of like walkig alonga street where cars aren't allowed, but a few songs in, the one with the crackly speaker noise was was nice, and they found their groove.

Its a curved triangular gamut, with Saint Etienne, Younger Younger 28s, Stereolab nd Kraftwork at the points and Arthur and Martha wandering between.

Ooh, back track solo!

Sometimes cracking pop, edgy and new waveish, and sometimes dreary. I preferred them at the Buffalo.

My enjoyment of the next band was diminished by most people in the crowd talking during the songs. Mostly odd-shaped people, speccy twats and cunts with bags.

Imagine reader, you've paid five pounds to go to a gig, now arrange the following three things in order of priority:-
1. Listening to the bands on stage
2. Chatting to your mates
3. Getting pished
I'm not suggesting that these three things are mutually exclusive, just prioritise them considering when you do that you've paid five pounds to go to this gig. Now fuck off.

I've never killed anyone with a blade, but you know in the film Marathon Man, uncle Larry has that concealed knife up his sleeve so he can deftly slash an elderly jewish woman's throat when she recognises him in the street.

It would be a neat way to stop someone talking at at gig.
sh-ching
splurt
"This woman needs help, someone, please...."

So Elika, on stage, a little electro, Twin Peaksy Julee Cruise vocals, kind of droney.

The largest array of guitar effects pedals I've seen in months.

If I were drunker and the crowd quieter, it would be neatly hyponotic and overwealming and the sort of thing I'd listen to under smoke and multi-coloured lights.

Gah! I'd wandered outside to scribble between bands, and missed a little of the next band, Eat Lights Become Lights. The place is packed near the front, its dark and stark on stage, rock is happening, two guitars, a bass, drums and a synth, and no microphones. Yay.

Instrumental rock, throbbing basslines, squelchy effects. Warm, blissful darkness, rather happy looking lead guitar chappy, who seemed amused whenever the floppy haired bassplayer puts on his glasses to play specific lines.

They had a strobe light on stage.

Oh, I miss strobe lights.

The Icicles, Stars of Aviation - The Windmill

Fortuna POP / Spiral Scratch - Horowitz, Milky Wimpshake, The Give It Ups, Electrophonvintage - The Windmill

Bands
The Give It Ups
Horowitz
Electrophonvintage
Milky Wimpshake

The School, The Brunettes, Wake The President, The Deirdres - The Windmill

So, after hellish experiences trying to get home from Brixton in thepast, I drove out all the way there tonight to find a sign on the door saying the show was sold out. So I went in anyway, to the ticket money chap, and asked if it was really sold out.

yup

The place was packed, I shrugged, "oh dear" and got back in my car and drove home.

Well, its a story to tell the grandkids or neice, knowing my lack of luck in the potential spawning world.

Yes petal, instead of seeing The School, The Brunettes, Wake The President and The Deirdres, pleading that I was a respected reviewer and secret pornographer in the hope my notoriety would be my gold card, I went home, listened to The School and The Loves demos and drew porn until I felt bad about myself and guilty about my emotions.



Bands
The School
The Brunettes
Wake The President
The Deirdres

Arctic Circle, My Sad Captains, The Lodger - The Windmill

I figured I could just get the underground to Clapham North and ander across the fields rather than change at Stockwell for Brixton. So it was a bit later than planned when I wandered into The Windmill halfway through some geeky looking twelve piece.

The place is pretty crowded and the music is pleasantly melodica drenched. There's a guy in the middle of the stage, halfway bacl, who seems to be using a left-handed egg-shaker, one of only 60 ever made by Stagg Music, these guys music take sickly sweet indiepop seriously.

Boy and girl singing and backing vocals too, but the lead bloke singing is a little fuzzy. I would have had the bloke on the right doing lead vocals instead.

For the last the song the wee girl singer straps on what appears to be a 4/3 sized bass guitar and rocks out.

If it wasn't the weekend before pay day, I'd buy the CD.

So what brings me to a How Does It Feel promotion, so soon after resolving to never again back in February? A friend off of the internet suggested it and besides, tonight I have no ticket for Joanna Newsom at the Albert Hall.

My Sad Captains on next. I thought it was going to be Brave Captain, alas.

A five piece with Tim Wheeler on bass, Fish from Ally McBeal on purepop lead guitar, Stephen Merchant on guitar and vocals and Felicity Fey on keyboard, violin and girl "bar bar" backing vocals. At first I had them pegged as a Lightning Seeds style pure pop band with neat keyboards and a sound that probly comes across as warm and rich on the recordings, but here despite the soundmans' best efforts, its a little rough.

The bestest songs come in the middle and are available on 7" vinyl (damned poorly planned pay day)

By the end of the set I'm of the mind that they're tonight's answer to The Great Money Trick. I wonder if Ian HDIF would be interested in having them on.

The final act of the night, The Lodger, looks either like John Waz with floppy hair, or Leeds's answer to Martin from QuestionableContent, but seemed vocally remarkably like Ian Brodie from The Lightning Seeds, but a little more guitary though.

Not quite interesting enough to stick around for, so I head into the beer garden to smoke and chat.

Reviews
here

Photies
here
here

My First Radio, Their Hearts Are Full Of Spring, Amy Blue, Time.Space.Repeat - The Windmill

“Yeah, thought they were fine”, 'er up north is down for the weekend to visit, so I'm showing her the sights London has to offer. The band on stage sounded like an early Radiohead b-side or Cayto's earlier stuff before they went crap.

Female drummer, quite skinny, good too and a six-string bass player. One of the guitarists was doing finger picking and had an e-bow dangling off his guitar which we missed him using.

For here we are, at the Windmill in Brixton for God is in the TV presents... G Spot 3: The BBQ. I think its some kind of webzine, the name rings a bell and it probably features highly on some one's radar, not mine though and the crowd seems a bit deseperate to be called a web-community.

The first band don't sound anything like Cayto actually, Cayto had piano, maybe it was El Casio Immunitas.

I'm guessing the band are called Time.Space.Repeat.

Next up is My First Radio, who have completely won me over, they sound like Doves, dark shoegazer, effects pedal laden genius with guitars, although at times I thought the singing was a bit too Oasis, the missus seems to agree. Nice white t-shirts from the lead guitarist and bass player.

Also well worth a mention is the sound engineer woman, who does a sterling job.

“I liked the noise, it was peaceful, I could just close my eyes and lie in my room”

Muse-like as well, would have been good as just an instrumental.

So me and the cockicidal missus are sat in the beer garden round the back whilst bands changeover, eating mostly meat from the barbecue, everything seems to have been marinated in honey, this is well worth the five pounds entry.

Ooh, the dog's still here, tonight confined to his kennel and about half a yard of run, seems happy enough eating barbecue scraps.

Amy Blue on next, another female drummer, with two guitary chaps, a bass player is sorely missing. Vocals are a bit too whiney, but there are some promising guitar bits driving ahead.

A singer explains that their bass player told them at 2pm that he didn't want to do the gig. Personally, if it were my band, I would have pulled out completely rather than soldier on. Its pish, they lack flair and me and the missus were both falling asleep.

The polar opposite of Amy Blue were the next band on, Their Hearts were Full Of Spring, who even before they start had their own flower arranger decking out the mic stands.

They are a five piece, with the third female drummer of the day, looking less stern than she did at IndieTracks. Wee flapper percussion girl mid-stage, like a gazelle, to her left is the keyboard / violinist and to her right is the baldy eyeliner guitary singing chap, jolly bass player lurking at the back.

“I though they were good” says the missus, sounded a little like Neil from the Divine Comedy, “some good dancing songs, there should have been jazz people shimmying at the front. Nice girl backing vocals brought a summery air, got all the couple cuddling.”

They could be the new young stiff opposition to Belle & Sebastian (or insert other boy-girl singing group)

Four more bands to play, but we've had our fill and peel off to the door, stopping to buy the CD from Their Hearts We Full Of Spring.

Noughts and Croses, Jay Jay Pistolet, Honeytrap, Pop Up - The Windmill

I saw a rat on my way out tonight, the size of a rabbit, with traditional worm-like tail. It was sneaking up on an elderly asian gentleman when I leapt out and startled it. The beastie ran off into the canal.

Could be a metaphor or like a simile, god know, but I'm in a foul mood, thoughts of fire racing through ma heid.

Not 100% sure where I'm heading to, my net connection was down so I couldn't check, The Grosvenor in Brixton, never been there before, nearest underground station was Stockwell as far as I can remember. Maybe the London Paper/Lite/Metro can help...

Hmm, decisions, there's also a gig at the Windmill tonight and I know how to get there. So the choice is:- indiepop band I missed at Indietracks off of Bowlie or Glasgow band I missed in Glasgow. Hmm, which is more likely to draw traffic to this site? Cos really it's dying off and I can't really be arsed if no one else can.

No one at Stockwell had heard of the Grosvenor, in my best saaf Landan accent:-

“Here, mate, d'ya knah a 'pab called the Grosvenor?”
“Nevr 'eard of it,guv'”

So I headed south to Brixton, stopping to pick up a Time Out on the way..

Christ, the MonoTaxi and Horowitz gig is so low on the radar they're not even in Time Out's listings, even I got into the listings and I haven't told anyone the name of the band.

My eyes glaze over, I drifted to 2005 and let l'espirit d'Agoona guide me to the Windmill, a photo of Magic Tea, a wrong turn and I'm there.

The place hasn't changed much, maybe just a lick of paint and through the crowd a familiar face, its '97 again and I'm doing guard duty with Cathouse Dave, I spy Alec from Nemis, a smile spreading across his face as he sees me, and I know I've come to the right gig.

On stage is an angry young man, busker rather than troubador, out of tune guitar, not very musical, but there's a rare passion in his songs. If only he wasn't so nervous. I reckon he could be Noughts and Crosses.

Okay dear readers, a short note on my history with the Windmill. After my success in the sell-out debut Bowlie AllDayer in '04 I was subsequently banned from that internet messageboard in March '05 for calling Twitch a pain in the neck, such horrendous personal abuse isn't tolerated thre, so I headed to the second Bowlie Alldayer in August '05 as an outcast, mightily pissed with with the girl for being a pain in the neck, with David Kitchen the messageboard admin, and the whole Bowlie community for their disloyal silence on the injustice. By the end of the night, I'd missed the Flyers and was sat out back chatting with Twitch, buying each other drinks and really pissing off her boyfriend.

2007: David Kitchen was told my secret re-registered internet alias and booted me off the messageboard about nine hours ago. Bunch of cunz the lot of them. If only Jockrock was international.

So I'm sat at the bar, where Kattparaden and her boyf were last time and on stage is a wonderful chap, with an uncertain confidence, sings melodic stuff, love-ish songs, slurring slightly and a kind of Damon Albarn look in his eyes. Jay Jay Pistolet

People talking loudly all around me, I wish they'd hear the beauty in this guy's songs.

Crikey, third act on stage have brought their friends and family along. I hope they stay around for the headliners. A lanky speccy lead singer with guitar, wearing a white vest. The nu-punky sound is a little refreshing, as is the “wah-ooh, wah-hoo” backing vocals and its always a pleasure to see violin on stage. There's a little Fratellis to their sound and The Kaiser Chiefs too,

Hmm, they're from Coventry, called Honeytrap.

There's a chap at the front of the crowd taking some rather neat looking photies, I hope he knows that they don't count unless they're on Flickr within 12 hours.

Hmm Honeytrap sound a little too much like The Levellers, I sense them bringing on a digereedoo soon. There's only one way of life and thats your own.

The rest of the crowd realy liked them, and some fellow scribbler called Tom or possibly Mark.

Pop Up take to the stage, female drummer who I swear a friend of a friend used to go out with, lead singer in a green hoodie with the hood up. They start off quiet and BallBoysy, folk in the crowd to the left talking amongst themselves.

The band soon rock out and some cun with his bleached bird squeeze in front of me and start waving his hands in the air, oblivious to the vacant space in front of the band. I retreat to further back, hiding behind a pillar where I saw Thom Flyer stood once.

The singer chap reminds me of the guy who played the eighth doctor.

Crikey this crowd are noisy amongst themselves.

Nice fast paced songs, sound like Ballboy, Akira and some others.

Some refreshing swearing at the crowd. You know, just before they came on I heard a girl on the table behind me say “... Glasgow – eww” Bunch of cunz, the lot of them Londoners. Decent tunes from the band, how could I have missed them for so long? Same way I missed Miss The Occupier I guess.

Oh dear god, its 23:40, I'm in Brixton, the underground's shut, I'm 10 miles from home and I'm mighty hungry. Could this be the end of your eager gig reviewer?

I need a wee.