Wot Gorilla? - Kebnekaise

Wot Gorilla? are unashamed of their love for prog. Their name is itself derived from an instrumental track on Genesis' seminal Wind and Wuthering album, and on this, their debut full length they embrace the genre's ideal of constant change. Very few sections are repeated, instrumentation is complex and lyrics are cryptic. However, they carry it all off with a pop sensibility and post-hardcore emotiveness. This results in an album that is both expansive and full of surprises, yet at times also direct and accessible, either by way of a short-lived vocal hook, jittery guitar line, or punishing break-down.

On the sonic map, Wot Gorilla? occupy a space equidistant from the current crop of UK math-rock/pop acts and the similarly prog-enthused US post-hardcore of Coheed and Cambria and The Fall of Troy, and head out to explore this territory in all directions. Opening instrumental 'I Beat Up the Bathroom. I'm Sorry.' introduces their penchant for syncopated rhythms and intricate Kinsella-inspired guitar work and sets up expectations for first song proper 'Melted Welly', which continues in a similar vein albeit with Mat Haigh's distinctively high tenor entering the fold. This element of their sound particularly invites comparison to Coheed, particularly given his fondness for switching from singing to falsetto lullaby tones, and indeed as the record goes on, it often-times sounds like an extension of The Second Stage Turbine Blade, sharing not only sonic similarities but also the palpable frisson of a young band having fun whilst experimenting with their capabilities.

They do avoid the pitfalls of prog wankery however, thankfully there's no overblown concept, and the musical complexity does truly 'make progress' rather than treading water in a way that only guitarists will appreciate. Of course, this constant 'journeying' aspect can have one detrimental effect in that when certain 'moments' resonate beyond the listening experience it can prove difficult to recall the songs from which they hail. The almost-chorus refrain of "Holy B'Jesus!," where Haigh belts out over a driving chordal riff, does have you thinking they should perhaps go in for that sort of thing more often.

On the whole though, where the focus may be slightly off at times,Kebnekaise is an extremely promising debut by a band able to invert the stereotypes of a much-maligned musical tradition and create something fresh. Closing with single 'Snow White', with its schizophrenic alternation between bouncing dance-rock riffery and brutal, rasping hardcore, part of us doesn't ever want them to settle if it means losing out on such fun.

Rating: 7/10

Tramlines Festival 2012

Perhaps the best things in life really are free. Or so you may think after Tramlines weekend in Sheffield. Now well established as the jewel in the city's musical calendar by its fourth year, the festival attracts established acts from far and wide and has every band in the city honing their set and looking to secure the best possible slots to showcase themselves to huge crowds of non-paying punters.

Friday

This year, the place to see in the festival was The Forum, where at six we are treated to Guardian-championed neo-folksters Low Duo. The percussionless twosome may not have kickstarted proceedings so much as ushered the occasion in gracefully with their haunting vocals and effective, sparse atmospherics, but they prove uncannily entrancing to those few able to resist a feverish chat over their first pint of the weekend.

Having had my taste for intimacy piqued, I decided to go check outJuffage over at the Cathedral. His stripped down 'one man and his guitar' performance was as charming as his sincere appreciation at being allowed the opportunity to grace the venue, even stopping to take his own snaps of the pew-bound crowd as memento.

By this point, it was time for something completely different in the form of Essex Jazz-Math instrumentalists, Suffer Like G Did, over at Dada. Playing on a lineup put together by Small Ideas, Sheffield Uni's alternative music society, they possibly benefit from a crowd of musos and musicians who can more openly (and open-mouthedly) appreciate the twists and turns and 'how did they time that?!' elements to their loosely structured pieces. However, ludicrous name aside, they retain enough appreciation for melody to deflect any suggestion of inaccessibility and prove likeably humble and unpretentious.

Continuing in a math-rock vein, they're followed onstage by the far more direct NGOD, whose set of emo-tinged alt-rock is played with intensity and passion. Vocalist Sam Augustine deserves particular praise for managing to nonchalantly shrug off falling on his arse during their climactic crescendo. It's not all about the fun of the performance however; the songs are there too, with new single 'Better Man' being a particular highlight. By now the party has arrived at Tramlines 2012, and we're left looking forward to day two as we drift homeward.

Saturday

After a nice lie-in in preparation for the first full day of the festival, with the blazing light forcing its way through the cracks in the curtains, Weston Park seemed the place to be just as on any other sunny day in Steel City, particularly as local indie-pop favouritesScreaming Maldini were to grace the bandstand. While it's difficult for them to be as captivating as usual in the outdoor setting, their catchy melodies and brass were surely made to soundtrack the gathering of friends upon grass.

In contrast to the chilled atmosphere of the park, I then decided to battle my way down to Devonshire Green's main stage, for what would turn out to be the only time all weekend, to catch Clock Opera. Kudos to whoever booked these guys as they prove to be the perfect festival warm-up act, blending the electronica of their recorded output with a more guitar-led live set-up and plenty of hooky whoa-oh moments to get those down at the front dancing at 3pm, and those further back noting the name as they nod along.

Now there may be a bit of a conspicuous gap in the diary at this point as I rushed off to make preparations for, and play, a set with Likes Lions down at Beg, Borrow, Steal. Despite our rustiness, it was a fun set and great to play material from our upcoming EP for faces both new and familiar.

There was no way I was going to miss the vitriolic display of Future of the Left however, whose rousing anthems allow great opportunity to spend some pent-up energy. The band follow suit, throwing their all into every minute and with Andy Falkous on form, one minute sharply berating an audience member for the 'classiness' of throwing white cider stageward, the next musing upon how he'd like to bring Andre the Giant back from the dead. Their set spans their recorded catalogue as well as a McClusky cut, breaking up their "shouting over guitars," as Falkous neatly coins it, with a synth-heavy middle section. By the close, they've reached fever-pitch, with Jimmy Watkins handing his guitar to a crew member so he can fling himself into the crowd, while Falkous and bassist Julia Rusicka take to dismantling the drum kit as it's being struck and gradually reassembling it at the front of the stage. Raucous.

Later that night, the place to be is Yellow Arch, by trade a practice studio, but kitted out for the day (and night) as Signals, a festival-within-a-festival celebrating the electronic music heritage of Sheffield. Part-funded by Arts Council England, the event features four rooms that cover all sorts of bases, from the minimalist to the bombastic, and earlier in the day, a series of panel talks on digital music culture. Any other day of the year, it would be prudent to spend the whole day, but with so much to see and do elsewhere, it more than serves its purpose of providing a one-of-a-kind night out to end the day.

Sunday

On any other weekend of the year, the Sunday after the night before may have been written off as a duvet day, but with the prospect of an even stronger day of live bands and even stronger sunshine beating down over the decimated city, it would have taken resolve not to get up.

The most interesting and varied line-up of the day was that curated by Rolo Tomassi down at the New Music Stage outside City Hall, so I ambled my way down there for the first act of the day. Unfortunately unaware that Vales had been forced to pull out of the event due to transport issues, instead of being violently shaken awake by their angular hardcore, I get to bask in the sunshine and quietly acclimatise myself to being awake and hungover before art-popsters Kappa Gamma take to the stage. Recent signings to Rolo's Destination Moon label, the shockingly youthful four (sometimes five) piece captivate the audience with their complex, yet hooky, sometimes frail, sometimes huge dynamics and prove their place on this lineup as ones to watch.

Later in the afternoon, Let's Buy Happinessprove a little underwhelming on the same stage. Perhaps more suited to an indoor venue, while their melancholic indie-pop is charming enough, it never reaches out to the mostly seated audience, rather floating above them on the breeze.

Meanwhile, over at The Bowery, a considerable crowd are gathering for the debut of local outfit Dens, four very smartly turned out young men who play a set of driving anthemic rock, inspired by early 80s radio-Americana. Astonishingly accomplished for a first performance, particularly as they apparently formed just two weeks ago, they please the huge numbers of friends in attendance and the casual drop-ins alike.

Numbers had swelled dramatically down by City Hall in time for today's hosts Rolo Tomassi. It is testament to the city's appreciation that such a challenging band can draw such a huge and diverse group who receive them so very well on home turf. Eva Spence emerges to a cheer in a sparkly little black number, and is a wonder as ever as she races between shrieking and howling and lullaby sweetness. The sound isn't really on the band's side for the opening songs, with vocals in particular getting lost amid the guitars on the wind, at times leaving Eva and brother James appearing to have a silent, yet violent fit, but these issues were soon smoothed out in time to really give the kids something to jump around to. The pit upon cold concrete was both ambitious and hilariously dangerous, and was no doubt appreciated by their onstage ringmasters.

By the time Rolo step down and make way for fellow hometown heroes65daysofstatic, the feeling is that this could (and in an ideal world perhaps should) be a main stage. The entirety of the fenced off arena is filled and there is a palpable sense of expectation. Thankfully, 65days more than live up to this vibe, opening with all four members engaging in a percussion workout, building up to a high-intensity run through of the first few numbers with absolutely no let up to the unmistakeable glitch-dance/post-rock they've made their name with. They clearly ride the wave of excitement and revel in their position atop the bill, with 'frontman' guitarist Joe Shrewsbury in particular displaying an uncommon level of showmanship for an instrumental band, clowning around, joking about the ubiquitous Nando's sponsorship and even organising mass jump-arounds and Mexican waves. They also do poignant as well as ever; 'Dance Dance Dance' and closing duo 'Radio Protector' and 'Tiger Girl' prove contrasting highlights, the former putting the bounce in the crowd, while the latter have arms invariably around shoulders if not aloft. After having to call off their appearance two years ago at the expense of a pesky fire alarm, this year the weekend belongs to them.

Ever keen for more, there was still time to catch a couple of late performances. First up was Toy, who packed out The Harley as a result of being featured in the official programme, but prove an anticlimax considering what has just gone down. It's easy to see the allure of their kraut-rock psychedelia in instrumental passages, but they often seem distant and lacking in feeling. Over at The Green Room however, local act Elephant prove rewarding to those further putting off the onset of Monday morning, with a set of soulful, danceable alt-rock.

And so unfortunately that's it for another year. Minor gripes about queue times aside, it has been gloriously uplifting to experience a festival like no other yet again, where all venue doors are left wide open and attract people of all ages and backgrounds besides more typical live music punters. There's just enough time to grab fish and chips from Betty's round the corner and take one last wistful look at Sheffield in all-embracing urban music utopia mode before the swift return to normality by morning.

The Long Haul - Debtors

Sometime in 2011, the hashtag #ukswell began to surface on Twitter, Tumblr and Bandcamp in relation to a number of UK artists, predominantly those on the Tangled Talk or Holy Roar roster. What it actually alludes to is somewhat baffling. It seems to denote neither a genre nor a particular sound as such. Rather as it has always been prefixed with a #, it is simply a hashtag – used to mark out a certain trend, grouping together a group of artists who want to acknowledge a mutual appreciation for each others’ work.

It’s mostly about a scene forming an alliance and uniting over a shared belief that heavy music need say something intelligent, be played with the utmost passion in order to be credible and be inclusive rather than elitist. Such values have helped to break down boundaries and smash prejudices held by and against established ‘heavy’ scenes, leading to the bands in question joining diverse lineups up and down the country, with bills brought together based on a shared ethos and mutual admiration rather than a cross-reference in terms of genre.

Southampton’s The Long Haul have found themselves emerging as part of the so called ‘core’ of this syndicate of bands, those that most openly pray at the altar of their forefathers in ‘progressive hardcore’, Converge, Poison the Well and The Dillinger Escape Plan. The others that Holy Roar Records co-founder Alex Fitzpatrick places amongst them being his own band Pariso, Bastions and Kerouac – the latter of whom joined The Long Haul in a ferocious and well received split. This record went on to find itself on many a blogger’s best of 2011 list and has helped construct an aura of expectancy ahead of their individual debut. Thankfully, Debtors does not disappoint as the band’s definitive opening statement, proving to be a 16 minute tour de force of vital emotiveness.

As is evident from the title of the release, The Long Haul have something to say about the UK’s economic climate, and while much of the lyrical content may wash over you on first listen to the record, there is no escaping the bile which you can positively feel from beginning to end. The general atmosphere of impending doom is crafted from the instrumental opener ‘Lenders’ onward, with its sleazy, loose chords reverberating chillingly, evoking the murky morality of a big business banker. Taking his place, we are gently led down a dark alley before the onslaught of first track proper ‘Holes in the Ground, Bliss in the Sky’ which introduces Harry Fanshawe’s emotive guttural screams from the very first bar and batters the listener at breakneck speeds with little let up throughout.

This track serves as something of a release – the band break out of the blocks and spend some of their pent up frustrations in one big blowout before a sense of reservation is allowed to creep back in for the remainder of the record. That’s not to say that the tracks that follow are any less angry, but it is when the band toy with the dynamics that they are at their most poignant. In particular, when ‘Blank Canvas’ builds up slowly through feedback drenched guitars accompanying the vocal, the hopeless despair of lines such as "I’ve used all the words I have to describe what is real" is allowed to linger on the consciousness and the more widely dispersed bludgeonings appear all the more densely monolithic.

As the title track brings the record to a close with its satisfyingly repetitive sludgy progression, there is a palpable sense of foreboding; that this is just the beginning of what these angry young men have to say for themselves. While it may be argued that this burgeoning scene is yet to match the likes of Defeater and La Dispute, who are riding the crest of the current US ‘intelligent hardcore’ wave, The Long Haul have helped set the standard for the UK crop to follow with an accomplished and coherent first body of work. With the buzz of creative camaraderie surrounding this little group of bands, it will be exciting to see how they will be inspired to better it.

Rating: 7/10

Shapes - Monotony Chic

Shapes are a sight to behold live - a raging mass of flailing limbs, dripping sweat and deafening noise, which is somehow both unhinged and surprisingly controlled in its delivery. It’s always a challenge for a band who have built such a reputation for intense expressiveness in the flesh to capture this feeling on record however, which is no doubt why they enlisted the help of Eskil Lovstrom for their debut full-length, the man responsible for helming some of the most fury-laden records of a generation including Refused’s definitive 1998 offering The Shape of Punk to Come.

He does a great job of capturing the maelstrom-like quality of Shapes’ twists and turns on Monotony Chic, an album that demonstrates the sound of a band coming into their own and developing as a collective.

Shapes are still noisy, very noisy indeed, and their attack of choice is still as frenetic and stop-start as ever. But on Monotony Chic there is increased room for melody and much more prominent vocals. Whereas before Shapes offerings tended to be instrumental workouts with the odd passage featuring the barks of all three members, the new material sees them craft pieces that are much more recognisable as songs, with vocals for much of the duration of the record. We are even treated to the odd croon, albeit delivered with the same sense of mania as the more aggressive passages.

One thing that is notable is the album’s sustained vibe, managing to sound monolithic and sinister throughout, even in their most chaotic passages. However, whilst at times exciting and tense, there is a danger that on the first few listens the beginning part of the album can seem a bit dense. Opener ‘Siren Song’ certainly grabs the listener’s attention through its relentlessness, but the next three tracks all vie for your attention through similar bludgeoning means and are in danger of losing it for this very reason.

They quickly reign in any wandering minds however. ‘The Victim’ proves the best example of their primary pallet, somewhat akin to a mix of the dynamics of the sadly defunct Blakfish with the bile of the first Gallows record, and features the closest they ever come to a chorus. A later highlight of a more slowburning mould is ‘Judgement Bestoke’, which features a seemingly unlikely appearance from labelmates Mimas’ front man Snævar Njáll Albertsson playing a mournful trumpet. This is soon accompanied by some hypnotic drumming before giving way to the more expected discordant guitars.

Monotony Chic does not exactly reinvent the wheel, but it does see Shapes mature as a band and is unpredictable enough to hold the attention of those with an ear for angular hardcore. If you’re lucky enough to have caught them in a live setting, you’ll be safe in the knowledge that their intensity is left intact. If the record is your introduction to the band, then you’ll be begging to catch a show.

7.5/10

Jimmy Eat World - Invented

First things first, the latest release from Jimmy Eat World doesn’t feature a ‘Lucky Denver Mint’, a ‘Sweetness’ or a ‘Big Casino’. Unlike previous efforts bearing such immediate anthems, Invented is one to be consigned to the ‘slow burner’ category. You know the type, those that you can sense the quality of from the first listen, but just doesn’t grab you as you may expect, and rather you hope you have the patience to let it grow on you rather than let it remain on a shelf forever.

Not that Invented is by any means a bad album, nor that the pop hooks and driving riffs are entirely absent this time around. Lead single ‘My Best Theory’ in particular is anchored by a catchy chorus and a truly uplifting bridge section. But something seems to hold them back from fully soaring as they have done in the past. This is perhaps in part due to overproduction, surprising as that is considering they are working with Mark Trombino, who handled both Bleed American and Clarity.

In any case, it just so happens that for much of the record the band are content to remain in dreamier downbeat territory, which at worst leads to decidedly bland cuts such as ‘Stop’ and ‘Littlething’ but at best serves to highlight Jim Adkins’ ability to proudly wear his heart on his sleeve and yet retain some sense of dignity. Few could deliver the lines ‘Can you see it in my eyes?/You’re always in my head/ You’re just what I wanted’ with such sincerity and conviction as he does here without sounding like a total sap. In some sense this is what makes the two ballads that close the album the most intriguing section of the record. Even this late in their career, Adkins can still seem earnest in his sentiments as he conveys the bewilderment and excitement of youthful relationships.

In an ideal world then, Jimmy Eat World would still be found on the soundtrack to any all-American teen drama, albeit no longer scoring the house party scenes quite so often as the more tender moments.

6/10

Four Year Strong - Enemy of the World

Pop punk. Hardcore punk. Two subgenres whose very names indicate a polar opposition beneath an umbrella term? Two approaches majorly at odds with one another with respect to their understanding of both an attitude and aesthetic? Well, if so, a handful of bands that have emerged in the last few years who fuse the sing-along major key refrain with the machine gun chug breakdown, along with their army of fans putting the bounce into alt club dancefloors, would suggest we are gravely mistaken.

For those who are still sceptical however, Four Year Strong may have produced just the record to convert them. That is, if they can make it past the gaudy artwork (which features the band as a variety of machismo dream alter egos, including a centaur with an assault rifle and some sort of ‘wolf herd’) and the even more cringeworthy songtitles (‘This Body Pays the Bill$’ anyone?). they manage to make the counterintuitive mix of genres sound natural, managing to be at times crushingly heavy, at others anthemic, and yet always effortlessly catchy.

While they aren’t inventing the wheel, and their lyrics aren’t exactly profound, there’s a sense that you wouldn’t want them to be, part of their appeal is in the simple pleasures offered, from the intermittent blasts that announce the opener ‘It Must Really Suck to be Four Year Strong Right Now’, to the glorious gang vocals prevalent throughout tracks such as ‘What the Hell is a Gigawatt?’.

One way in which the album does fall short unfortunately is in its over-production. It lends a saccharine quality to some hooks which could make it palatable for the mainstream, which detracts from its punk credentials. At times a more raw edge would be most welcome. Even so, the album provides a great guilty pleasure summer soundtrack, and one you will definitely head back to when your more judgemental friends aren’t around.

4 out of 5

South by South Yorkshire @ O2 Academy, 28/04/10

A showcase of the county’s hotly tipped young talent, South by South Yorkshire promised to be an evening of great value, at only £2 for 5 bands as part of the Sensoria Festival. However, evidently the publicity for the event was a little lacklustre, judging by the small attendance on the night.

Nevertheless, opener Serious Sam Barratt puts in a performance worthy of a much bigger audience. Adorned in a T-shirt emblazoned with the legend ‘Texas’, a trucker cap and playing his intricately fingerpicked rootsy folk with his eyes glued shut throughout, you’d be forgiven for thinking the young man has travelled across the pond to join us. However, tracks such as ‘White Rose’ reveal that while his aesthetic owes much to our cousins across the pond, his song writing impetus is authentically rooted in the experience of the Yorkshire everyman. He threatens to steal the show early on, but while intriguing and impressive at first, his act becomes rather familiar by the end of his set.

That said, familiarity between one’s own songs is perhaps better than familiarity between a band’s work and that of countless others. It is a shame that more have arrived in time to see Oblong, the second band of the evening, at whom this criticism may be levelled. Their grunge influenced rock is played out with a great deal of enthusiasm, but makes little impression. They do improve as the set goes on however, particularly by closer ‘Disappointment’.

The Crookes are a perfect antidote however, with their sprightly, nostalgic pop sensibilities crafted to a point where one might question if one has gone back in time to somewhere much, much happier. The lads clearly enjoy themselves on stage, particularly exuberant this evening. In keeping with their twee image, front man George Waite tells us they are going a ‘bit doolally’ in their apparently tired state. Rather.

It’s quite the mystery as to how they are placed lower on the bill than Standard Fare, whose breezy indie pop shows potential with some catchy riffs and solid drum beats but rarely quite provides us with the killer chorus they deserve.

Unfortunately, more people bear witness to them than headliners Grammatics, which is perhaps inevitable when they aren’t to take to the stage until past midnight on a weekday. When waif front man Owen Brinley looks out over the few still assembled before him, the disappointment is all too visible in his demeanour. Shame on those that left early; they treat those remaining with a set ranging from out and out bombast to slow burning, hypnotic brood and manages to be catchy at both ends of the spectrum. Yes, this is pop Jim, but not as we know it: underpinned by the unconventional use of cello, distorted guitars and synths, they manage to create a mix of sounds that is utterly compelling in a live setting.

Yorkshire certainly has talent, so it seems, its just a shame a few more of its residents didn’t come to be aware of it this evening.