Original article at Consequence Of Sound

Last night, Koko played host to an all star lineup. Usually featuring NME’s en-vogue bands or opening the floor for Club NME, Camden’s venue of choice was blessed with two fantastic acts, The Joy Formidable and Passion Pit.

The Joy Formidable

The Joy Formidable is one of those bands. The North Wales trio arrived in 2007, after a name change, some personnel changes and some time spent honing their skills. From that point on, the accolades fell at their feet. The Guardian’s “ones to watch,” a regular top spot on Steve Lamacq’s Radio 1 show, and NME’s backing ensure that it’s not a case of if, but when.

They took this support slot and gave it their all, practically assaulting their home crowd with a combination of pure verve and intense musicality. As expected, they opened with “The Greatest Light Is The Greatest Shade”, a 5 minute opus that opens their recent EP, A Balloon Called Moaning.

Lead singer Ritzy is captivating, a peroxide blond with bangs who has been grunged up. She can shred, too. They are a tight knit group (Ritzy and bassist Rhydian are an item) and it shows. It’s a team effort; everything is done in house (the T-shirts, the album artwork, even the production).

They make a heck of a lot of noise for 3 people. The Joy Formidable do for three what The White Stripes did for two. The music is epic, occasionally dark, but always fun. Crucially, there is no let up in the set: they have very little time with which to steal our approval.

The set was capped off with “Whirring”, which gradually transformed into a shredding session. As they left the stage, the instruments were strategically giving off feedback. There is unfinished business here.

Passion Pit

Passion Pit had to bring its A-game tonight. During their first headlining date in February 2009, lead singer Michael Angelakos was heard muttering “stone cold London” as the crowd wasn’t warming up to the band. There was latent tension in the air — the band’s last performance in London was back in July, less than two months after the release of Manners; the reception was warmer, but still far from where it should have been. The band was struggling to find their feet.

Last night’s edition of Passion Pit was reborn. Electronic, experimental albums such as Manners often take months of grueling refinement before they click on stage. And Passion Pit has another layer of complexity in their vocalist. Their music is built around Angelakos’ voice. If he’s off point, so is the entire performance. He was clearly feeling the pressure, letting us know that we “scared the shit out of him”.

They were almost 30 minutes late on-stage, however, a move which annoyed native Kokoers, expecting the usual punctuality. Finally emerging from the wings, they started the set with minimal interaction. The nerves took over and the first two tracks slipped by, although Angelakos was easily hitting all the high notes. Once the opening synths of “Make Light” were fired up, they knew everything was going to be okay. They loosened up a bit, exchanging smiles, and letting us know how cool we were.

The quintet still rely on a Macbook to cue some samples, a set-up that has caused problems in the past. Fortunately, everything ran to plan. “Little Secrets” had the crowd jumping and the sultry synths really hit the spot on a cold Tuesday night. Passion Pit has been using the same setlist for much of 2009, and we can only assume that they are saving their new material for their next tour. Whilst it was a shame not to hear anything fresh, the setlist highlights how strong the majority of their songs are. Culling from both their sole album and previous EP, it was a slick performance.

“Sleepyhead” offered the first true singalong moment, a true crowd anthem with the brilliant Mary O’Hara sample. They then left the stage after a heavy interpretation of Chunk of Change track, “Smile Upon Me”. After an extremely quick rest (perhaps too much so, they could have had us chanting a little more!), they traipsed back on for a two track encore. The night closed with “The Reeling”, which only truly got the crowd jumping during the refrain. It was a reminder of Passion Pit’s fragility — when everything is together, they can deliver some of the most enjoyable and sonically interesting music out there. Yet because of the complexity of their music, they tread a knife edge during each performance.

Passion Pit Setlist:
Eyes As Candles
Live To Tell The Tale
Make Light
I’ve Got Your Number
Let Your Love Grow Tall
Little Secrets
To Kingdom Come
Folds In Your Hands
Better Things
Sleepyhead
Smile Upon Me
Moth’s Wings
The Reeling

——

Original article at Consequence Of Sound

London is musically a very, very special place. The best bands play one of the huge arenas, whilst those finding their feet navigate the pubs and underground festivals of Camden and Shoreditch. London tour dates are crucial, as there are always influential people in the audience; tonight, I shared the front row with someone from musicOMH and the Times.

Cargo played host to a triple bill on Monday night, the famous graveyard slot. The performing venue is surprisingly small; the restaurant and bar take up much of the available space, with the performing space crammed into a small section of the building. It’s tiny, accommodating 200 people, a bar, and an impressive PA system.

Each act had 50 minutes to demonstrate their worth, though this night was all about one man — James Chapman, also known as Maps. The buzz surrounding this guy is huge — his debut We Can Create was nominated for the Mercury Music Prize with good reason, and follow up Turning The Mind is set for a US PR push in the coming months.

Before his set, we had to endure an admittedly inventive acoustic solo set from It Hugs Back’s singer and an experimental offering from Banjo Or Freakout. The latter, a one man band, worked his way through the numerous pedals, pads and loops to create heavy soundscapes. The potential is there, but his set was utterly eclipsed by what came next. We knew it, and so did he.

The pure volume of Maps’ gear kept me under the false illusion that the original line up of three remained. Having seen the band only 200 metres away at The Legion in May, I expected a three piece. Only two people arrived. It is worth noting that their sound has been similarly streamlined.

They launched straight into the set with Maps’ best track to date, “It Will Find You”. The song is clean cut- dense percussion, synths and effects pedals to the max. Chapman is a creative genius, mixing his potent lyrical and musical talents to true spine chilling effects. Unfortunately, about 15 seconds into the first song, feedback began to wail out of the PA system. Chapman turned all his dials down and moved to another synthesiser, frantically trying to fix the problem. The levels were completely out of sync.

On the second song, “Papercuts”, more problems emerged. “I don’t have any monitors…” he called to the techies. The vocals were lost in the mix, and Chapman was trying everything possible to fix the problems from the stage. The roadies looked on, before finally springing into action. By the third song things were finally balanced.

Current single “I Dream Of Crystal” was suitably dramatic, with vocoder effects and an electronic drum breakdown. Chapman is a strange guy, but he’s totally at ease in his skin: it became a running joke of sorts. Explaining forthcoming single “Die Happy, Die Smiling” he said “This song is about murdering your ex-girlfriend… I have recurring dreams about it, and I’m not sure if they’re real. Have any of you ever dreamed about this?” to which someone replied “I’ve already done it!”. “Well done, mate” Chapman replied.

The set also featured some of his older work, drawing from the 2 EP’s which preceded his debut album. “Back And Forth” a firm fan favorite, segued into “Let Go Of The Fear”, a straight dance dub. That is, barring the minute long soliloquy… A clearly unplanned encore of “Valium In The Sunshine” was a slight anticlimax, as the song was one of his more lightweight choices. “We haven’t rehearsed this at all, but what the hell, let’s play it”. It was impressively brave of them, but they pulled it off.

Tonight, everything seemed to conspire against the band. In what was a true test of patience, Maps came through the other side. “My Mum & Dad are here to see me, and everything’s going fucking wrong”. Worry ye not, James. On the evidence of tonight, they will be very proud of you.

Patrick Wolf is a modern pop icon. Who else attempts to incorporate a head-mic and numerous costume changes into their performances? Britney, Madonna, Gaga and pals, sure. But who could claim that they still write intellectually stimulating music? It might sound silly, but this 26-year-old (nee Apps, now Wolf) has a rightful claim to the pop throne. His stage theatrics are almost without equal, and underneath all the sorrow, makeup, and provocation, Patrick Wolf is just another one of our aspiring stars.

The venue was ideal for what he had planned for the opening night of his European tour. The Paradiso, easily Amsterdam’s best venue, is a converted church, which was packed to the rafters (literally) on Monday evening, the stage adorned only with a large fabric painting displaying a blanched landscape. The acoustics were perfect, and the atmosphere was buzzing while Wolf’s band set up. A drummer, audio technician, violinist and bassist provide the backing, but the rest of the considerable burden lies with Wolf.

The main man himself sidled on stage wearing a ridiculous monochrome Union Jack one-sie (or playsuit, in Vogue vernacular), with huge strips of fabric attached to his right shoulder. With typical panache, he seemed completely at ease, clearly aware that he could push the limits on a weekday, performing in one of the world’s most liberal cities. The show opened with “Who Will”, the first in a number of measured tracks from his latest album, The Bachelor. It’s a melancholy opener but loses none of his trademark provocation, the opening lyric “Who will penetrate the tightening muscle?” leaving little to the imagination. Amsterdam didn’t bat an eyelid.

As usual, Wolf stopped the set early on to ask for requests, eventually settling on “Pigeon Song” (despite this writer’s request for “Bloodbeat”), a solo number with complicated nail pizzicato. He followed it up with “Bluebells”, where the electronic and beat driven aspects were amplified. There was a huge contrast between the slow (which Wolf usually plays alone) and the fast paced numbers, but it all linked up well through Wolf’s improvised noodling between songs.

“The Sun Is Often Out” was preceded by a small monologue about the suicide which led Wolf to pen the song: Stephen Vickery, a poet and friend, committed suicide by throwing himself into the Thames. Wolf addressed the unanswered questions that are associated with this type of loss, giving an emotional solo performance which had the crowd in silent awe. This was in direct contrast with “Hard Times”, boosted in the live environment, which had Wolf playing a flying V electric guitar before marching off stage. The band continued the refrain without him, to which he emerged wearing a white tie, some tails and shorts, with a codpiece to finish the job. The crowd lapped it up.

From this point he had the crowd working for him; during “Theseus”, Wolf picked up another of his many instruments, an “Appalachian Mountain Dulcimer”, before proceeding to explain that tuning them was difficult due to the design, which revolves around mountain air pressure. The rapport was easy and belies his relative anonymity. As the show progressed he slowly evolved into his more camp, in your face persona, referring at one point to the prostitution in Amsterdam: “How do you think I made my money when I was 18? I was a natural blond then.”

“Thickets” featured a three part string harmony, arguably more suited to a live environment with its expansive sound. It is, however, obvious that his earlier work still incites the crowd in a way that the new material cannot yet touch. Wolf wrote “Bloodbeat” as a teenager, and over the years it has been transformed, taking on a show-stopping status in his set. “The Libertine” also sparkled, a ukelele led gypsy stage act which has been honed through years of practice.

After one final change of outfit (this time to a gold lame skin tight jumpsuit) he wrapped up the set, emerging for a two song encore. “Vulture” was saved for last, where a more aggressive, sexually charged stage persona was on display, with crotch grabbing and writhing. After one final vocal flourish, he was gone.

Celebrity is often unfair, the best talents are often missed and under-rated. At this point in his career, Patrick Wolf certainly falls into this category. His music is ever more challenging and experimental, and the stage performances have an air of Bowie about them. And yet, he still rails against the rules and limitations of major labels and societies’ shortcomings. It sounds cruel, but if his journey continues to produce such wonderful music, long may it continue.

Patrick Wolf- Bloodbeat | Link 2