What Went Down at the SU?

for fans of: The Maccabees, Bombay Bicycle Club, Everything Everything, Bloc Party

In selecting a name, Foals did themselves an injustice. Such as namesake suggests that they are meek and mild baby horses waiting to graze on success, yet, in reality, they are stallions galloping to the forefront of British music. To an extent, this is achieved through beautifully cogitated albums that mediate between geeky wackiness and swooping trance rock, however it is their live shows which set them far apart from their modern contemporaries.

Although they're set to sell out arenas throughout the UK in 2016 (and probably headline a few festivals while they're at it), Foals' most recent tour saw them territorising intimate venues across the country - including the University of Bristol's Student Union (like, is this real life? Foals are playing at my uni?!???). It was a weekend of epic proportions for the SU, with their Anson Rooms hosting two of the country's hottest live acts - Slaves shut it down on Saturday with Foals following suit on Sunday.

photo creds: here today

The tour is in support of their fourth studio album What Went Down - their most emphatic to date. Part of Foals' brilliance is their ability to craft four albums that, on the surface, are noticeably very different yet are all distinctly very Foals - they have their own intricately woven narratives, their own quirks, their own variation on sounds, yet it's easy to exclaim "yes! That's Foals!" in each respective era. It's been a gradual progression from the irrepressible vitality of 2008's Antidotes to the blizzardly intensity of their latest effort that have enabled Foals to shapeshift into one of the world's most intoxicating live acts.

It was of little surprise that the Bristol leg of their tour was nothing short of a spectacle. However, from the strike of the first chord of Snake Oil, things look initially unpromising. While the band instantly got into their element among the robotic guitars and febrile percussion, the crowd's response was lukewarm. A swell of panic swallowed the room - is this really what the show would be like? While Foals trotted thunderously onstage, the audience would just... bop? Luckily, as Snake Oil trickled into the emblematic opening of indie anthem Mountain At My Gates the tables turned and the circus was in town. The surge in enthusiasm created one of the most elated moments in the set and it became clear that, although they cherish the recent gems from What Went Down, Foals fans love one thing: familiarity.

photo creds: the guardian

Throughout the gig, the Anson Rooms perspired with sweat and passion in equal measure, exuding from both the stage and those who worshiped beneath it. From the disco bop of My Number; to the trance-inspired, shoulder-climbing rock of Spanish Sahara; and the fiery outbursts from frontman Yannis Phillipakis, booming "FUCK THE TORIES" to an explosion of cheers - anything thrown out there by the Oxford band was met with ardor. Foals fans experience something along the lines of idoltary for this band and their unique stream of thrashing guitar magnetism.

In a triumphant encore, Foals reentered the stage to deafening applause - which could've been way rowdier if not for the fatigue and breathlessness deep in the pits. They begun their final juncture onstage with delicate ballad London Thunder. Expressing the band's ambidexterity for the gracefully tender and the roaring epic, they launched into the incitement of their new era - What Went Down, whose blustering guitar rock could've caved the roof in, as limbs flew wall to wall and shoes soared off of feet. Terminating the hysteria with Two Steps, Twice, Phillipakis dives into the bodies and fully immerses himself in the success and undying devotion that the group have worked so hard to cement. Here's to another year of triumph for them.

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GIG REVIEW: The Cribs - O2 Academy Bristol, 25th October

for fans of: The Courteeners, The Enemy, The Libertines

the cribs at glasto earlier this year
(photo creds: nme)

Despite playing to a noticeably under-capacity venue, Wakefield trio The Cribs luxuriated their place on the Bristol stage. Constantly telling the sweating bodies of the O2 Academy that this was the best show they've ever played in the city, they failed to crack a smile, but nonetheless succeeded in delivering their trademark dynamic garage rock. What the Jarman brothers - Gary, Ross and Ryan, complete with their Beatles-inspired drum skin - lacked in crowd connection and a special kind of onstage charisma, they made up for in a cavorting catalogue of classics.

It may have been a Sunday night, but The Cribs' show made for a wayward night of unforgettable throwbacks; the loom of a new week was pushed to the back of the mind. Though they are currently touring on behalf of their sixth album For All My Sisters, which reached the UK top 10 earlier this year, their set seemed to be a non-stop barrage of the tracks that have cemented their 11 year career thus far. Perhaps this is why the audience was almost entirely made up of riotous, balding 30+ males in chinos and one distinctly older gentleman who just had to crowd surf.

(photo creds: digital spy)

Though The Cribs have achieved relatively little mainstream commercial success, they have garnered what can only be described as a cult following. Legions of dedicated fans, such as those at the Bristol leg of their tour, respond tremendously to anything the band throws at them. A 21-strong song setlist is a difficult thing for any musician to pull off (unless you're, like, The Rolling Stones or something) - to inhibit an audience's attention from wavering elsewhere is a craft that The Cribs have (almost) perfected. It's true that new single Summer Of Chances failed to inspire much passion, yet this instance was very much an anomaly.

From their sprawling collection of hits, it's likely that The Cribs would have played your favourite song (EXCEPT there was a horrible omission of the early 00s masterpiece You Were Always The One, which I found to be seriously upsetting). Opening with Ancient History and making their way through classics - both new and old - such as Moving Pictures and super-charged self-confessional I'm A Realist, there were a million moments to shout along to: Hey Scenesters!, the haunting thrills of Be Safe, and, of course, Men's Needs all immediately come to mind. The true diamond of the set (yes, it's one of my favourite songs ever so, yes, I can be shamelessly biased about it all) was You're Gonna Lose Us - the infectiously delusional, essentially Northern 2005 b-side. All anyone wanted to do was roar the chorus back to them: When I'm drunk I can be an arsehole / But that don't mean I've got no class though. Truer words have never been spoken (but I guess the claim that I have class, especially when drunk, is a much debatable one).

It is a rare occasion to leave a venue so satisfied with the artist's choice of showcased material as I did post The Cribs' Sunday night disco.

keep an eye out for our upcoming interview with swim deep on burst radio! i've also been working on pieces for the student newspaper, coming very soooooooon x

GIG REVIEW: Mac Demarco - The Roundhouse, 9th September

for fans of: Unknown Mortal Orchestra, DIIV, The War On Drugs

from a festival performance earlier this year
(photo creds: fame images)

Crossing the bridge at Camden Locke, it began. First they were in small quantities then, like a plague of locus, they multiplied and were everywhere. Walking down the street sporting cans of Red Stripe, they were greeted with more of their kind congregated on the grassy slope outside Camden Morrison's or lingering outside bars (which they probably hadn't even been into) on Chalk Farm Road smoking roll-ups. Then, Mecca is reached. And there are, what seems like, millions of them. The Mac Demarco clone squad is out in full force.

It was almost like a convention; the annual meeting for all who seek to emulate the style and aesthetic of Mr Demarco from head to toe. This was no exaggeration: a good 85% (an extremely mathematical estimation) of those who flocked to the Roundhouse to witness their idol in the flesh were living breathing cliches. The majority were clad in baggy t-shirts/sweatshirts/button-ups, jeans with the cuffs rolled up, sport socks pulled up to their ankles and any of the stereotypical footwear deemed acceptable to such a crowd. Many even went as far as to complete their look with the staple Mac accessory: the 80s flat cap (exemplified on 3/4 of his album covers thus far). It was fair to say that my second-hand embarrassment had seldom been so fierce. But at least no one had tried to imitate his iconic tooth gap: get the Demarco look.

Inside the venue itself, the atmosphere of the unmistakably try-hard crowd tiptoed into hysteria. Through the mist of marijuana (yes, people really did stoop to those depths to emphasise their "ultra-hip youthful rebellion") Demarco emerged to a vehement roar. It's clear from the get-go that these fans worship the holy ground he walks on.

Brooklyn's zaniest export has ascended from relative obscurity to against-the-tide hero status. His music is generally gentle soft rock slurs with the occasional doo-wop or quirk - intimate vanilla tunes that, remarkably, are able to keep themselves far away from bland territory - so what is it that's been able to charm the masses?

Mac during saucier times
(photo creds: tumblr)

I believe there to be a sort of illusion surrounding Mac Demarco. Because he engages in two-minute-long screams onstage in between songs and because it appears he has minimal responsibilities offstage, many consider him a pinnacle of hedonistic eccentricity. Often photographed surrounded by his beloved Marlboros or wearing a silly billy facial expression, it's easy to see why some perceive him as a bizarre nutjob. In reality, I judge him to be pretty normal. His antics are nothing short of happy-go-lucky banter. He's like a lad, except he's actually funny (e.g. when he strikes a multitude of poses while chanting "John" in honour of one of his new band members) and seems to be suffering from a bit of an identity crisis.

September 9th marked the second of Demarco's sold out shows at Camden's Roundhouse where he demonstrated a set heavy in his latest material from his newly-released mini album Another One. While songs like title-track Another One and The Way You'd Love Her created an aura of magnetism, others such as A Heart Like Hers fell onto deaf ears. His showmanship, however, was not the cause of this, but rather the crowd's bawdy restlessness.

Pictures of Mac Demarco gigs have always shown them to be artistic interpretations of feeding time at the zoo. Honestly, the pits are actual mad ting considering the nature of the music. From fists in faces to the current pulling fans under, it was clear that the mellow slacker smoothness in Demarco's catalogue was unmatched for the fans. The lawlessness reached its peak early in the set as soon as Demarco croaked the lines "As I'm getting older..." and everyone in the crowd screamed the entire song (which is, of course, the lazy boy anthem Salad Days from the 2014 album of the same name) back to him.

While the crowd's energy seemed to die somewhere along the halfway point, Demarco and his band steamrolled through the set like Duracell bunnies until the very end. Every song was the same classic that everyone had heard again and again while their Mac Demarco Spotify sessions played on loop, except live they're beefier and better. With an almost nitty gritty edge to his easy breezy freshness, he incited anarchy with favourites Freaking Out The Neighbourhood and Cooking Up Something Good. Perhaps the more rugged sound emanated from the Roundhouse's hideous sound system which meant hearing any spoken word from anyone onstage was literally impossible. Nonetheless, Demarco and his band seemed to slip into the spotlight of their biggest British stage to date with comfortable ease.

Mac and his Vans crowd surfing last year while they were
stiiiiiillll tooooogeeetttthhherrrrr
(photo creds: NME)

In his grand finale, Demarco ended with his cozy love serenade to long-time girlfriend Kiera (who he's waking at the end of the studio version - he's not calling over a cat as I originally thought). Still Together's shrill but in-tune wailing has a kind of Lion King-esque vibe going down and the live version has real gusto. While the band members onstage engage in an indulgent instrumental, what else can we expect from Demarco except for him to dive head first into the crowd only to emerge five minutes later utterly battered and bruised. Hobbling back onstage in a Sonic Youth shirt now ripped to shreds and unsalvageable, he mildly threatens to beat up whoever stole one of his red Vans before completing the howls of "stiiiiiillll tooooogethhherrrrrr". Apparently he was so pissed off at this that he refused to encore his usual Metallica cover. A bit of an ironic reaction considering he was detained by police mid-performance last year in Santa Barbara, CA for climbing the venue's scaffolding. I guess there's one thing you can learn from these experiences, Mac: don't feed the hipsters.

how i survived the 1989 world tour

looking out onto the sea of peasants
(photo creds: jason williamson @ the line of best fit)

Some may say her power lies in her ability to single-handedly make the largest cooperation in the world redesign their business plan (we're looking at you, Apple). Others in her ability to reduce relatively emotionally stable people of all ages into a fit of tears. Although, it's most prevalent (and, perhaps, most overlooked) in her ability to sell out Hyde Park (that's 65,000+ tickets, I'll have you know). Out of all the other headliners of the British Summertime Festival, the only other act who was able to draw identical numbers were The Who. Neither Britpop heroes Blur nor the founders of modern indie rock The Strokes could achieve such numbers. Hence, Taylor Swift is a musician completely on par with rock legends celebrating their golden anniversary. And she proves it in her biggest UK headline show to date in the company of her London crowd.

The day-long event was opened fittingly by an array of genre-crossing acts. Rae Morris was charming and euphoric; Vance Joy's cotton candy acoustics were impressive and dynamic; though he can't dance for piss and tried (and failed spectacularly) to get an audience who wasn't there for him to sing-a-long to his unknown tracks, John Newman gave his all; and Ellie Goulding went above and beyond, pumping up the crowd with a cluster of electronica fire-starters. Surprisingly, it all made the excruciating seven hour wait from doors opening to Miss Swift's set a little less painful.

For someone who once claimed she couldn't dance and is infamous for her problematic award show moves, the love letter to her beloved new home and show opener Welcome To New York was the first of many performances to boast high-precision body pops and locks. It also set the bar for an ornately camp extravaganza. Almost every sugar-tinted synth was accompanied by high kicks in even higher waisted garments and the most incredible (for lack of a better term) slut drops the eyes have ever seen. Behind the superstar herself was an army of truly exquisite backing dancers to accentuate the big top show. (Collectively, we decided we loved Mason Cutler the most.)

friendship group goals
(L-R: martha, kendall, serena, swizzle, karlie, gigi, cara)
(photo creds: glamour magazine)

Each beat which burst from the Great Oak Stage was bedazzled to perfection; whether they were a blazing inferno as in her 2013 worldwide smash-hit I Knew You Were Trouble or silky smooth under Style. During the latter - a slinky, seductive instant classic glossed with immaculate hooks and retro riffs - she paraded members of her ever-growing girl squad of beautiful people - Kendall Jenner, Gigi Hadid (I literally died), Serena Williams, Martha Hunt, Karlie Kloss, and Cara Delevingne - to the adoring crowd.

Prior to attending, I was initially a bit ambivalent towards the set list as, for a Swift-till-death personality like myself, it was too 1989-heavy for my liking, particularly due to the inclusion of This Love (which was a bit of a snore and could definitely done with being replaced by a masterpiece like Last Kiss or All Too Well) and You Are In Love. After attending, I still harbour these feelings. However, one of the most bewitching moments of the show was Taylor being suspended above the crowd against a background of sallow oranges as the sun was in mid-set as she acoustically (and unforgettably) sang You Are In Love.

love story at sunset

Yet, her set was not shy of her previous catalogue. Though it did not include any full version of her songs from the greatest album of all time (2010's multi-platinum Speak Now), the songs she did incorporate showed her remarkable talent for reinvention. It's not just the fact that 1989 transformed her from pop princess to the biggest superstar on the planet, but her tour has given her the artistic opportunity to inject fresh energies into her archive. During her platform suspension over the crowd, she played the song that catapulted a then-18 year old Taylor Swift into international music fame: Love Story. Tinkering at her keyboard, she turned the country crossover smash into an 80's tinged ballad. Later in the set, she electrified the crowd with an amazing beefed-up version of one of her dryer tracks We Are Never Getting Back Together, shredding guitar and whipping like it was nobody's business. Her final surprise was a mash up of one of my most favourite T Swizzle songs Enchanted (circa 2010) and brooding ballad Wildest Dreams. Living up to its namesake, it was enchanting. Beginning as a soft piano solo and evolving into a momentous serenade to the beauty and delicacy of love. It was certainly a set highlight.

don't be so baffled luv, they're all here for uuuuuuu
(photo creds: tumblr)

It is a well-known fact that Taylor is not a one-trick pony. Not only is she, possibly, the most famous singer-songwriter of the 21st century, accomplished multi-instrumentalist, philanthropist and the dictionary definition of 'goals', but she can add 'agony aunt' and 'potential Noble Prize speech writer' to her CV. Before Clean, her severely underrated track about finding yourself in the midst of stormy heartbreak, she gave a speech that wetted the cheeks of many. She preached about the importance of self-love and how we are not "damaged goods", before launching into a graceful melody that captured the crowd.

It is indisputable that Taylor Swift is some kind of phenomenon. She brings the bangers through some of this year's biggest songs - Shake It Off, Blank Space, Bad Blood (the tour version is, unfortunately, minus the explosive Kendrick Lamar appearance) - and lifts them to new, dazzling heights. She has flowered into a bonafide music icon. May the reign of Taylor Swift continue.

past taylor-related posts

WARNING CONTAINS SEVERE EMOTIONS: 1989 album review

Red Tour review

GIG REVIEW: Drenge - Electric Ballroom, 21st April

for fans of: Palma Violets, Royal Blood, Eagulls, Slaves, Nirvana

(photo creds: gigwise)

With a Letterman appearance across the pond, a sold out UK tour and a top 20 album under their belt, Drenge have got it going on. The London leg of the Undertow tour was held at Camden's famous Electric Ballroom - a mini-Brixton type venue with a dodgy paint job, known to house rising rock and punk acts.

For their sophomore effort Undertow, Drenge departed from dry wit and towards something as close to maturity as you can get while being a member of a rock band who gets cups of overpriced beer thrown at you every night. Undertow was written with a new voice; a new perspective on old themes of death, weapons, and vehement melancholy. While songs like The Snake rumble with vicious biblical undertones and Favourite Son dreams of bloodthirsty sex, they've made a grittier statement than their eponymous debut did. Luckily, their signature meditated fury is easily brought to the stage.

The Loveless brothers (plus one) emerged into a room pumping with testosterone. Sweating adolescent males with rubbery torsos mimicked the boiling angst of Drenge's stone cold grunge. Violent mosh pits broke out from the moment the first echoed chord of album stand-out Running Wild was strung.

The addition of a bassist means Drenge's sound is sonically expansive but lacks niche. They've been replaced with the likes of Slaves and Royal Blood - the latter of which's success they may not achieve as it's unlikely that this Sheffield-born band whose lyrics consist of themes similar to "make you piss your pants / I wanna break you in half" could get the backing of the clean-cut, viewer-hungry BRIT Awards. Regardless, the fever of their live presence really proves that they can do what they want and their fans will follow like a pack of salivating dogs.

(photo creds: gigwise)

What they lack in on-stage charisma, Drenge (Danish for 'boys') make up for in monstrous sound. Lead singer and guitarist Eoin Loveless showcased their new, flavourful riffs in Never Awake - complete with howling crowd wail-a-longs - and old-school grunge favourites like Gun Crazy, where the mosh pits relished Loveless as he growled "woah, oh oh, my baby, oh my baby's gonna mess me around". The fantastic energy of their debut is still present in their sweatiest of new hits - We Can Do What We Want - where the atmosphere transformed into one of a collective acid trip.

Before unusual (i.e. dull; i.e. where is I Don't Want To Make Love To You?) set-closer Let's Pretend, the crowd - sounding like 60 year old heavy smokers - chant along to fan favourite Fuckabout. A few bruises and dislocated shoulders later, Drenge's set ends and proves that total anarchy will forever be in their favour.

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GIG REVIEW: welcome to the weird world of Happyness - Birthdays, 4th February //

for fans of: Mac Demarco, Wilco, Diiv, The Fat White Family, Honeyblood

(photo creds: Michael Jamison @ inthejunkyard)

Down the depths of Stoke Newington Road (well, about a ten minute walk from Dalston Kingsland station) is a disgustingly cute little bar called Birthdays. Being in the general Dalston / Stoke Newington / Islington / Shoreditch area, it's like a watering hole for hipsters. Standing outside drawing smoke out of their roll-ups were a sea of half-fringes, top knots, and Stan Smiths in the shadows of the awning lights.

Underneath the main bar, the bass throbbed with the rumblings of bold, self-confessed DIY rock outfit Nai Harvest. Hailing from Sheffield, it's unusual that they'd pocketed the support slot when a large chunk of the audience appeared to have been there for them rather than the main act. Statistically Nai Harvest are more popular: on average their angsty sounds attract slightly more Spotify traffic, they have four times the amount of Facebook likes, and are much easier to find on YouTube. Yet it is Happyness who had the honour of headlining this particular NME Award show. Other headliners of NME Award shows throughout the first quarter of 2015 include La Roux, Drenge, and the live return of The Cribs, however Happyness are the freshest, sprightliest young band of this crop.

The South London trio are Brooklyn-ready, having only just recently signed to cult label Moshi Moshi - previously nurturing big names such as Eagulls, Kate Nash, and Disclosure. As a welcome gift, the band explained in a slow, mumbled drawl how the label bought them drinks and a keyboard, which they exercised for the first time during the live debut of Regan's Lost Weekend (Porno Queen) - a dreamy piano ballad that manages to burn in one slow, steady swoop while paced by acoustic undertones.

Though none of the audience past the second row could see much else but 66.6% of the band - and even so, only their bobbing heads were visible over the crowd - they still managed to exude a very endearing stage presence. Their clumsy transitions and stuttering crowd talk was masked by their Dr Jekyll effect: Happyness manage to spout two very different sounds. There's no in between in their extremes: they produce either flossy garage turmoil or provocative dark-pop. The latter seemed to conjure the most rhapsodic reaction, particularly concerning brooding ballad Montreal Rock Band Somewhere / (one of my top 22 tracks of 2014).

photo creds: Michael Jamison

Among the crowd, I'd never seen so many long-haired men congregated in one place. Their curls bounced on their shoulders as they bopped around to beefed up versions of tracks from Happyness' aptly-named debut Weird Little Birthday - set to get its third reissue in March. Though their live sound is yet to be properly fulfilled - it still feels a tad empty and amateur - they still managed to amplify the sonically enjoyable but simultaneously super strange It's On You and tongue-in-cheek Great Minds Think Alike, All Brains Taste The Same into powerful little ditties. Bright grunge cheekiness may not be so evident in the greasy purr-a-long Baby, Jesus (Jelly Boy), until you clock lyrical gems such as "I see people come in twos / just like breasts do". It may be the third time I'd seen them live, and the umpteenth time I'd listened to that lyric, but their oddities always make me smile. Whether they were born that way, baby, or perpetually on some kind of mushroom remains to be seen. By the end of the set, Happyness had almost made a comfort zone alongside the excellent sound system and neon-lighted rainbow of Dalston's underground universe.

With a band of this much pizazz and novelty, it's no wonder that NME (notorious for being up Alex Turner's arse, but are always to be trusted to seek out zippy new talent) has got their back. Listen to their boisterous new 90s-esque single, A Whole New Shape, below.

CATCH HAPPYNESS ON LIVE DATES WITH JAWS ACROSS THE UK THIS YEAR
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GIG REVIEW: Amber Run - Dingwalls, 3rd February //

for fans of: Saint Raymond, Coasts, Young Kato, We The Wild, Bad Suns

(photo creds The Mahogany Sessions)

The Communion Music Group have a refined taste for supporting the freshest new talent. Acts they've previously backed include rock newbies Twin Peaks as well as bona-fide folk stars Ben Howard and Matt Corby. Feel-good pop quintet Amber Run were hand-picked by Communion to headline their second annual sold-out New Faces tour this Autumn. With songs that already sound like hits so early in their career, the world's a stage for the Notts boys. But just who are Amber Run?

No, not Wiz Khalifa's bald ex-wife. They're on all my Spotify playlists, they're frequently played on XFM, their logo was spray painted all over Bristol when I visited this summer, and they have opened for acoustic balladeer Lewis Watson, but I knew little about them. I discovered quickly that they have quite a substantial following, especially in their hometown of Nottingham, but after some digging around the blogs I happened upon some thought-provoking comments. A particular YouTube comment summarises the general feeling as they described the band as "middle-class indie drab". The other night in the cloakroom queue I heard snippets of the following conversation:

Man #1 (early-20s): Did you enjoy it?

Man #2 (mid-20s): I did actually - they're pretty good for posh pop

This kind of thing gets thrown around a lot, and you wonder what it really means. How tightly has capitalism grasped the bottom of the music pile? Are the underground nobodies of bandom actually just another classic example of the rich getting richer? Is there actually anything that bad about "posh pop"? All the rhetorical questions, but no answers.

(Disclaimer: I do not know Amber Run or their background, and so the entirety of the argument below is based upon speculation alone. But I do believe one of the members is called Felix, so.)

Define posh pop: a fairly modern revolution where the music industry has become the latest to fail the working class by ways of capitalism championing the middle and upper-middle classes. Again. Previously, the ones who succeeded in British music were the likes of the McCartneys and the Morrisseys but, in more recent years as the war against the working class wages on, the ones at the top are more likely than not privately educated. Chris Martin, Mumford & Sons, and Florence Welch are the most classic examples, and if I ever have to hear about Lily Allen sing about 'the streets' or 'the ghetto' one more time, I'm going to scream. Noel Gallagher has recently hit out at musicians of socio-economic privilege making it a hot topic of discussion (though in the past month, he's hit out at everyone from Ed Sheeran to Alex Turner, probably all in promotion of his newest album, and to be honest, no one really gives a shit what he says anyway). With funding into arts education slowly being shoved out the window by the Conservative government, the only people that can be educated in music and other arts subjects are the ones who can afford it. Even indie heroes like Peace and Bombay Bicycle Club have come from more privileged upbringings, which begs the question - is success even in this lucrative market still down to genuine talent, or the ability to financially support your way into the big time? Personally, I'm not sure where I stand on the issue: on one hand we don't need to contribute to any more demonization of the working classes - in what fields are we supposed to succeed in then? - but similarly, why should noses be turned up at talented young people because of the way of life they've been born into? It's a complicated matter that I don't feel able to weigh in on just yet.

So what does this mean? In short: nothing. In something as vast, exciting, and innovative as music, backgrounds shouldn't matter. To judge a band shouldn't it really all come down to the most obvious thing? In terms of Amber Run, they're passionate enough about making genuinely good music to drop out of Nottingham Uni and pursue the band dream, hence silencing the classist warriors. With the February leg of their UK tour selling out venues - including Camden's Dingwalls - across the country and an upcoming April tour consisting of some of their biggest headline shows to date, what can distinguish Amber Run from the rest of posh pop?

First it's the range of their appeal. Scattered among the audience was practically everyone within the realms of ages 14-54. Generally, this is a good sign: a nice even mix of people means that you're attracting enough young people to hit the mainstream, enough industry-types to create a buzz and a name for yourself, and enough older people to, err, well, have sing-along drunks in the audience.

The other, fundamental, recipe to their charm is the ability to utilise their talents in all the right places. For example, lead singer Joe Keogh's voice is the definition of divine - with pipes like that it's no way that he couldn't have had a choir boy past. Though strong, composed, and on-key throughout the set, it stood out on chilling opener I Found. Chosen as one of my top 22 tracks of 2014, the five-piece harmonies are just as delicious live as they are on the recorded version and captivated the audience in a split second. With little lights transfixed into the backdrop of the stage, the palatial vocal-synth blend made for a transportation to somewhere glorious.

They continued to churn out stellar tracks throughout the set - a perfectly timed length that made you think "is that it?" before you realise just how much time had flown by while you were enveloped by their joviality. Amber Run craft songs that focus so heavily on impact and so their lyrical weakness becomes a bit more prevalent. But don't sweat it, as a new band, their skill will eventually evolve so that their strengths in punchy instrumentals work in cohesion with a lyrical ability that's not quite there yet.

Nonetheless, crowd interaction is what the band nourish their vigour with. Take Pilot, for example; the commoving first track off the eponymous EP is the definition of a crowd-pleaser. Anthemic, and almost power ballad-esque, without the 80s hair to match. Throbbing drums wizzed around Dingwalls' notoriously questionable sound system before the thunderous impact of the guitars kicked in. This is matched in Spark - a favourite for those who enjoy vigorous hand-clapping and zesty chanting - and the very Mumford and Sons-y Noah. While Kites' rustic acoustic guitars and the charm of Heaven are peachy enough, they don't pack as much punch as some of the other corkers in the Amber Run catalogue.

In response to the two men I overheard in the cloakroom queue: before us are a very important band in terms of putting the fun and games back into music, and shouldn't be overshadowed by whatever label they've been defined as. Posh pop or otherwise.

CATCH AMBER RUN ON THEIR UPCOMING UK TOUR IN NOTTINGHAM, LONDON, MANCHESTER + NEWCASTLE
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GIG REVIEW: TEMPLES - The Forum, 3rd December //

(photo creds: Wumni Onibudo @ the line of best fit)

According to the 'My Year in Music' function on Spotify, not only were Temples my top artist of 2014 but their debut album Sun Structures was my most listened to album (on Spotify) of the past 12 months. This is not the only HIGHLY PRESTIGIOUS list Sun Structures has topped: it was crowned Rough Trade's Album of the Year, as well as appearing on the definitive top album lists of NME and XFM. It is an album truly celebrated throughout the year, especially by their champions from little-known bands such as The Smiths and Oasis. So underground, right? Both Johnny Marr and Noel Gallagher have saluted their unexampled talent and labelled them as "Britain's best new band". Alright, innit?

I had liked Temples' music for a long time but I properly tripped into the realm of true love once seeing their set in the BBC Radio 6 Music Tent at this year's Latitude Festival. It wasn't long before the album became all I listened to; becoming borderline obsessive. With support from the funky-fresh sounds of Superfood (though it was an unorthodox to see them play to such a pastoral crowd instead of in a pit of sweaty carnage) (read my review of their NME New Breed show here), Temples at The Forum was a show that I couldn't afford to miss (well my pocket could really have afforded to skipped it, but my appetite surely couldn't).

Front man James Bagshaw (and star of my favourite YSL campaign of all time, alongside top babes Jack Kilmer and Dylan Brosnan) proved truly in control of his project. After writing and solely producing Sun Structures, their just-stepped-out-of-the-sixties sound orbits almost entirely around his foxy magenta glittering 12-string and delicate vocals. Slightly simmering under the surface, his showmanship is brought to resplendence by the delight of the equally camp other three members of Temples (Adam Smith, Sam Toms, and album co-writer Thomas Walmsley). Cheekily, in a sparkly blazer, he teased the crowd about their lack of lustre, yet this only lead to the most forced mosh pit I'd ever been a part of.

(photo creds: Andy Sidders @ gigwise)

Unsurprisingly, the Temples tour was a really unique occasion. Not only were some tracks accompanied by an orchestral ensemble, but a trippy live liquid light show contributed to an already kaleidoscopic atmosphere. Their show channelled all mediums: classical influences, nomadic art, and transcendent music. Temples aren't inspired by 60s psychedelia: they are the embodiment of the era in the 21st century. Instant classics such as Shelter Song mesmerised (wheyyyyy!!!) the crowd, whilst they fed off the quirky zest of The Guesser.

Though Sun Structures is a masterpiece of intricate layers and their performance teetered on hypnotic levels, the feeling and heart of the record failed to be transported on stage. Three 3 minute+ instrumental solos just don't work in a live show predominately attended by teenagers and young adults. With such an entangled and ambitious two years of performing, it will be interesting to map the Kettering four piece's progress to LP2.

GIG REVIEW: NME NEW BREED TOUR PRESENTS SUPERFOOD + HONEYBLOOD - Dingwalls, 11th November //

In September this year, notorious music weekly NME announced their first ever New Breed Tour. Following in the footsteps of record label Communion's inaugral New Faces tour (which has most recently featured the likes of Fyfe and the insanely talented Amber Run), the NME New Breed Tour seeks to unveil to the world some of the industry's hottest tipped acts to make an impact over the next year. NME, very wisely, selected the deliciously named Superfood and Honeyblood to co-headline the tour.

The support for the London date came from the vastly unknown but strangely endearing Bad Sounds. Outfitted with we-have-never-even-walked-past-the-barber's hairstyles, the five piece took 80s pop rock to gleaming new heights. Their Egyptian Hip Hop-esque beats are clean and nothing short of completely funky. Unfortunately this is the only evidence I can find of them on the Internet, but I pray they release some more material over the coming months because I have an incredible thirst for more.

(photo creds: NME)

Honeyblood are Scotland's answer to Best Coast. Lead singer Stina Tweeddale's gutsy, reckless vocals scream out poisonous lyrics "I will hate you forever / Scum bag, sleaze / Slime ball, grease" in a fury of feminine angst. Their rebellious and rootsy girl power was devoured by the entire spectrum of gender in the crowd - a refreshing attitude from an audience who all too often claim that women have 'no place' in indie rock; a stereotype the industry has endeavoured to abolish in recent years with acts like Sky Ferreira, Haim, and female-fronted Wolf Alice. 90s grrrrl rock is back with a sting in its tail.

// OFFICIAL WEBSITE // FACEBOOK // TWITTER //

where's wally did u mean where's georgia (photo creds NME)

Superfood, signed to Infectious Music, are an example of the young indie rock talent hailing from Birmingham. They join the ranks of 'B-town' alumni - notably Peace, Swim Deep, and Jaws - to set the music scene alight with their kinky garage sound. Having previously opened for Peace - and, in fact, at this very show - many fans of the band will discover a certain satisfaction in Superfood. Their addictive hooks are slick and candied by sweet riffs, yet the sheer noise of their Britpop infused sound was enough to rile the crowd into turmoil.

(photo creds DIY)

Rippling basslines were so effortlessly provided by resident cool girl Emily Baker while the true heartbeat of Superfood's catalogue of oddities and adolescent heartaches lay with drummer Carl Griffin. His thundering percussion created an atmosphere ripe for rebellion while lo-fi guitars were shredded to a pulp by Dom Ganderton and Ryan Malcolm to the delight of Dingwalls' lawless fans. No seriously, they were insane - no gig is complete without a full-on fandom stage invasion in which the onsite security melted into a proper mare. Such a devotion clearly filled the band with ecstasy as they looked out with a smile onto an unbridled moshpit while the leaking ceiling precipitated onto their heads. NME have well and truly sought out the next indie rock hype.

// JOIN ME IN SEEING ONE OF MY FAVOURITE BANDS TEMPLES ON THEIR UK TOUR WITH SUPPORT FROM SUPERFOOD #LASH // OFFICIAL WEBSITE // FACEBOOK // TWITTER //

where's wally part 2 (creds superfood)

To add the icing on the cake, as my friend Aimee and I exited the venue's bathroom who do we end up walking behind but the flash of red hair and iconic fur coat of Harrison flippin Koisser - lead singer and superbabe from Peace :o:o:o We talked about sparkly tops, Superfood, and friendship, and he was as wonderfully lovely and eccentric as you would expect. I luv luv luv him.

Harrison and I xxx

Love, Miley, Party // review of the Bangerz Tour - The O2, 6th May

for fans of: Katy Perry, Britney Spears, Rihanna, Lady Gaga, Iggy Azalea

(photo creds: Evening Standard)

"I'm not going down without a motherfucking fight!" the world's most controversial human, the iridescent Miley Cyrus, screams and solidifies this title as she rockets down a giant tongue slide and reemerges back on the Bangerz Tour. After a health scare last month, which the singer assures the fans was not a drug overdose *phew* and actually due to "bitch ass nurses", the 21-year-old Tennessee native has refused to come back without the biggest spectacle your eyes will ever behold.

Miley's performance followed a set from the ever-cool Californian rocker Sky Ferreira. I was blessed enough to be seeing Sky perform live for the third time lucky that night and, as always, one of the most talented female artists in the game did not disappoint. Though my friends and I were the only ones in our section going absolutely chicken-oriental mental, Sky shined. Despite the dodgy sound technicians and oh-so ironically messing up the start of 'Everything is Embarassing', her performance was collected and enviably chic as she showcased the stand-outs from her acclaimed debut album 'Night Time, My Time' (one of my albums of the year).

As soon as Miss Cyrus burst onto the stage in a hullabaloo, the F-bombs began to fly all over the place. Parents around me looked shocked and disgusted, but how could you be? Reportedly, The O2 has received an ocean of complaints about Bangerz Tour for its profanities and provocative nature. I'm sorry, but what else would you expect from a Miley Cyrus concert? Inevitably, you have seen her infamous antics such as her VMA performance and her array of music videos: Hannah Montana this ain't! That's about as idiotic as me rocking up to Starbucks with a coffee allergy and ordering a latte. Blame yourselves for exposing your children to what you deem as inappropriate instead of pushing the fault onto her for taking this step in her artistry. Besides, have you not listened to her album before you purchased tickets? Obviously the six year old behind me had as she was sassily screaming the lyrics to the Pharrell masterwork '#GETITRIGHT' (I been layin' in this bed / All night long / Don't you think it's time / To get it on?) as Miley was rolling around a bed imitating an orgy. Disturbing on the parent's part, to say the least.

(photo creds: Evening Standard)

Cyrus mixed the trash glam of Rihanna with the less-polished theatrics of Lady Gaga with the crazy cartoonisms of Katy Perry to create chaos. One of the slightly more... eccentric parts of the show was her worshiping and grinding up against a kind of Sphinx-style 30 foot blow up of her dead dog... I mean, that's when it got a bit too weird. Twerking midgets, twerking chickens, a surprisingly little amount of twerking by Miley herself. Bonkerz and utterly insane. Like a carnival on LSD. Her costume game, however, was out in full force: though she pretty much shoved her vagina into the audience's face while riding a ghetto fab gold car during the Hip-Hop jam anthem 'Love, Money, Party', her money-clad leotard was cause for serious envy.

And, honestly? Miley doesn't display the plastic, bonafide transparency that many starlets seem to exude; she has charm and charisma, and her between-song banter is indisputably genuine - even when she was rambling about the health benefits of weed and encouraging the audience to get stoned. Speaking from my own experiences as someone who isn't easily influenced by other and can easily resist peer pressures and such (thanks mum x), I can see how easily impressionable kids could get swayed by these kind of talks and perhaps it's not the greatest thing in the world to encourage your fans to be in possession of Class B drugs... But she also uses her position in a positive way and is an advocate for a multitude of causes such as animal rights, however in this show she preached to her fans about the importance of equality and being yourself. Usually the young and famous are perceived as thoughtless dummies, but I honestly think Miley is smart. She's judged purely on the basis of how she sexualises her body and talent in order to sell records, and maybe she does, but is she not garnering the attention that's she's so cleverly set out to achieve? She identifies herself, and rightly so, as "one of the biggest feminists" and that was emphasied in her speech about being yourself after her hit ballad 'Adore You' as she encouraged the audience to celebrate the LGBT society. Let's be fair, it's fantastic that there's a pop culture figurehead to shine this guiding light for her fans to be educated and beautifully intellectual young men and women who embrace feminism and are accepting of those from whatever background in which they come from. Preach!

(photo creds: nydailynews)

The highlight of the show was not, in fact, Miley straddling a giant hotdog while flying over the audience singing 'Someone Else' (yes! really!), but was her performance on the 'B' stage. Here she acoustically performed the sensual 'Rooting For My Baby', as well as a whopping four covers: cool points for the wholly appropriate Arctic Monkey's 'Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?', a beautiful rendition of 'You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go' by Bob Dylan, her Radio 1 Live Lounge of Lana Del Rey's 'Summertime Sadness', and her godmother Dolly Parton's classic 'Jolene' - which is probably the first time ever that Jolene has been called a C U Next Tuesday! This is another indication of Miley's smartness as it's unlikely that anyone, without seeing her perform live, would believe that she is hugely talented and has a wicked sense of humour. The tone of her voice is sweet but strong, and acoustically the audience really feels her country music roots and her sheer delight to be back onstage, keenly lapping up every second.

She closed her whopping 21 song set with a string of her biggest hits. Surprisingly, 'We Can't Stop' lacked the fireworks that the infamous 'Wrecking Ball' ballad set off, before she closed her return to the stage in a Union Jack leotard for the pop classic (we will be singing this for generations to come) 'Party in the USA'. The frankly rather adorable Miley Cyrus performs for the shock factor, and I think that's why people don't understand her. Once that fades, we'll see the emergence of an icon. Until then, she'll shock us until our eyes are raw.

(photo creds: nydailynews)

GIG REVIEW: George Ezra - Dingwalls, 4th March // #PETANMASSIV

for fans of: Jake Bugg, Matt Corby, Lianne La Havas, Tom Odell, Keaton Henson

When my friend Olivia and I arrived at Camden's Dingwalls on Tuesday night, we were a tad freaked out to find that we were probably the youngest attendees of the sold-out George Ezra gig. It was weird. I've never been to a concert for a young, talented, (sounds really girly and embarrassing and immature to say this but I'm only stating the facts! Let's not beat around the bush! I'll shut up now!) attractive guy where the crowd wasn't littered with squealing pre-teens (which was nice, don't get me wrong. Oh Lord, it was very nice not to have people heckling like "LUV YUUU GEORGIE, YER WELL FIT" every 5 frickin' minutes. I sound like a snob so I'll shut up again). Despite supporting BRIT critics choice crooner Tom Odell, massive Radio 1 airplay, and being featured among the next big things for the BBC's prestigious Sound of 2014 poll as well as MTV's Brand New list, he played the Dingwalls show to a packed crowd of... old people. I'm joking guys you were all only, like, forty - your best years are ahead of you! Ha!Ha!Ha!

With his tour being completely sold out months in advance, and tickets to these elusive live dates have been selling for a whopping £80 on Seatwave, Ezra proves the only way for him is up. He commanded the crowd's attention with set opener 'Blame It On Me', blossoming with lyrics fueled with convivial sadness - sharing likeness to his other tunes in its own soulfully upbeat way. Yet he also continued to keep the audience in the palm of his hand not only with turning points like 'Leaving It Up To You', but also with his between song banter; raw and effortless wit funny enough for a career in comedy - George Fezra may I suggest? That's patented, by the way... #petaned (I tried).

It's a true rarity to hear such a tremendous voice, as if rooted from the Deep South of America itself. He has surprised critics and fans alike with his rich vocals that are clearly way beyond his years (as cliche as that sounds), much like his taste in music - Ezra cites folk legends like Woody Guthrie as major influences. Despite this maturity, there is still a youthful optimism to his music such as his latest single - probably drawing similarities to 'Lightning Bolt' - the uplifting 'Cassy O' - a clever and charming tale of time escaping. And though the EP version of 'Benjamin Twine' has its similarities with that track, his live take on his song about falling in love with your best friend's sister is rife with passion and enchantment.

The live version of his previous single 'Budapest' was the most spellbinding of his solo acoustic set - it even had the more mature audience singing along. Ezra proved the stage to be his true stomping ground with twiddling guitar hooks and authentic stage presence. However his troubadour-esque voice was most outstanding on 'Did You Hear The Rain?', which was opened with a chilling acapella intro. Just like the studio recording it's deliciously slick, enticing, and as full of soul as the balladeer himself.

this photo defines the phrase "you tried" #clapped

SEE GEORGE EZRA ON HIS //UK JUNE TOUR//
DOWNLOAD THE //DID YOU HEAR THE RAIN?// EP
PRE-ORDER THE NEW //CASSY O'// EP