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: 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 GROPING: the philosophy of "ask the cutie before you touch the booty"

As our wayward journeys on this erratic earth progress I think a time comes when we learn to accept that certain events are inescapable. We are going to be swathed into situations that are awkward and uncomfortable, and there's nothing much we can do about it other than just let it slide. I believe that we have adopted a certain tendency - whether this is culturally specific or not I don't know, but it does seem like a very 'British' habit - to sweep things under the rug to avoid said sticky predicaments. Sometimes it's just not worth making a mess over because scenarios are awkward and beef is seldom necessary, but there are rare occasions where I won't let shitty people get away with being shitty for my own peace of mind.

I went to see Circa Waves at Heaven on Wednesday night (19th November) to: a) see a band who play great music, b) spend time with a good friend, c) boogie a bit on a night out, and d) maybe write something nice on here after. I did not go to see Circa Waves at Heaven on Wednesday night to deal with infuriating circumstances.

(photo creds: Circa Waves Facebook)

The audience were riled up by Public Access TV - a NYC jangly rock outfit (think Drowners or a softer, boppier Skaters). They couldn't have been older than 19 yet they proved to be more than capable to deliver an overwhelmingly impressive catalogue of steamers. Bleeding charisma and a light dusting of cocky charm, songs like In The Mirror demonstrated a future so bright that it became understandable why the guitarist wore shades.

(photo creds: tmrw magazine)

Circa Waves, propelled to attention by Zane Lowe, are one of Britain's fastest rising bands who've toured with The 1975 and The Libertines so it was only natural that we wanted to move into the crux of the crowd. Though the set opened with stellar power tracks like Young Chasers and Good For Me, it took a while for the crowd's spirits to go from mildly pathetic to "that's a bit more like it" considering the vigour of the band's garage rock. Still, it was kind of nothing compared to most of the crowds I'd been in lately - meaning I'm more than used to having zero personal space, being pushed around like a rag doll, and sweaty bodies at every turn. Although I'm highly familiar with this kind of atmosphere, it doesn't mean I'm used to or in any way should expect to get my butt grabbed by a massive, excessively perspiring man.

Besides this week I have been groped once at a gig: I had just turned sixteen and was waiting to see Two Door Cinema Club. Admittedly this was one of the first proper gigs I'd been to (in terms of general admission madness), but it's not like I was unaware of the basic mechanics of how these things work. Long before Two Door Cinema Club had even started their set I could feel this boy behind me rubbing his hands up and down my legs and bum with the occasional soft pinch. To say I was incredibly uncomfortable and extremely embarrassed would be a severe understatement. Being only sixteen and unlikely to be able to defend myself against a nineteen year old boy, I kept quiet and pretended it wasn't happening while my sister continued to talk my ear off, oblivious to the problem at hand (I later revealed to her the grotesque nature of the groping once we were back home). Luckily during the show itself I was able to """accidentally""" elbow him in his cratered face, but that was the extent of my self-defence.

Times have changed. It is 2014 and I am not afraid of anyone. Especially not gross perverted men.

Why should I be subjected to sexual assault because I am a young girl at an angsty rock concert? I may be categorised as a fangirl because I'm a female consumer, but does my gender automatically mean that I do not belong at this event? That I must only be there because I find the members of the band aesthetically pleasing and not have any interest whatsoever in the music they create? Therefore I deserve to be touched inappropriately because it's 'all part of the experience'? Trust me, I have been to many a gig in my time and I can assure anyone with a shadow of a doubt that this is not a price that typically comes with the territory.

At first I thought it was an accidental encounter that followed the tides of the crowd. I gave the guy a dirty look, but realised it could have been unintentional so brought my focus back to the music and my own personal enjoyment. It often bothers me how stupidly naive and optimistic I can be; always hoping for the best in others when I'm consistently proven wrong.

The second time around confirmed that his actions were entirely purposeful. This time I experienced a full throttle grope in the area of my bum. I yanked his beefy hand away from me as his shiny face grinned at me. "You're a fucking disgusting arsehole!!!" I attempted to shout at him over the lo-fi rock. He chuckled in reply and reached for my waist again before I balled my hands into fists and hit him somewhere on his face as hard as I could. My hand couldn't have made a very large impact as I have as much upper body strength of a small child, but it was probably more of a shock to him that a female in a vulnerable position actually had the ability within her to defend herself. He called me a "little fucking bitch" but need I respond? I mean, I'd already replied physically to his threats - I didn't need to prove anything else to him because he now knew I was unafraid. (This is not the first time I've gotten into beef at a gig, but maybe those stories are for another instalment.) Arguably this action lacked common sense because who knows how he could've reacted, but thankfully I was able to relish the rest of the short but sweet showcase of Circa Waves' upcoming debut album assault-free, including the boppy delights of one of the year's strongest singles Stuck In My Teeth.

The fact of the matter is that I did something that I was proud of - besides the act of physically assaulting a stranger, I stood up for and protected myself. I've always been the kind of person that a few of my friends have said that they "wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of", but what does that say about me? For some it means I probably have too much attitude, but maybe it also means that I have the courage to not be pushed around and treated like a second-class citizen. Regardless of the fact that my bum is more inclined to the Taylor Swift rather than the Kim Kardashian end of the juicy booty spectrum, consent is always required before you so intimately touch a person (not that me or anyone else is going to say "yes" if you ask anyway). Especially with cases such as the Sam Pepper scandal coming to light recently, shouldn't men realise by now that women do not want your meaty hands on our bodies without our explicit permission? Would you want some strange chunky hand grappling at your groin area? It's ridiculous that I'm having to explain this. Accept the fact that gig groping, or groping of any kind, is not and will never be okay.

@acciogeorgia not cool! We'll have none of that at our shows.

— Circa Waves (@CircaWaves) November 20, 2014 

(what definitely IS cool is that bands care)

What vexed me most about the incident was not even the fact that I was groped, but the possibility of other young girls in the crowds being preyed on by this giant gross loser. As music fans collectively unifying to celebrate something we all enjoy, shouldn't we treat each other with comradery and respect? Thankfully I taught that wasteman a lesson and he was put in his place, but unfortunately girls in the future will continue to be taken advantage of when they're meant to be having the time of their lives, and that's a crying shame. Concerts are supposed to be experiences that grow to become a part of us, not something tainted with venomous memories. We need to protect girlies, not endanger them.

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

LISTEN AND LOVE: All The Colours and their self-proclaimed "music your kids will thank you for"

For fans of: The Kinks, Tame Impala, Teddy Blanks, Peace, (they really really really sound like someone else, and I can't put my finger on it and it's starting me on my slow decent into madness)

To pinpoint Melbourne quartet 'All The Colours' exact sound has been quite the tribulation, so leave it to the band themselves to sufficiently label it as "progressive vintage pop". Made up of a quadruple J force: 'Miami Horror' front-man Josh Moriarty, Jonathan Toogood, Josh Mann of 'Impossible Cinema', and Joe Bramley, 'All The Colours' leave no mystery for their burgeoning audience to discover. Take their Soundcloud page, for example: a sprawling bio tells us practically everything we'd ever need to know; like, for instance, how they're possibly the "most dapper band" of the moment. Perhaps this is due to their impeccable presentation - materialising onstage in suits and fricking bow ties - or how their dynamic live sets are an appropriate flux between "well-behaved to wild" (see for yourself below).

The best thing about the group's self-importance is that no matter how much they'll ruffle their own feathers (I mean, what self-hating nobody would call their music "melodically aphrodisiacal"? Amazing.), none of it will ever turn out to be lies. Because yes! They are everything they say they are; "charming", "sophisticated", "seductive"... These are words that no critic could use to adequately capture the true essence of 'All The Colours' as, for them, it's nothing but duck soup to epitomise the full spectrum of indie sound into their music.

Yet they don't just put their names on that almost stale indie rock map - 'All The Colours' are broader than that. Their confessed Tarantino influence has marked a more vaudeville stamp on this, sometimes confined, genre. It's not the unadulterated violence of Tarantino that has taken a toll on their music, but rather the "certain groove" of the soundtrack to these movies. More inspiration is painfully evident in the wailing psychedelia of the is-this-an-outtake-from-Dark-Side-of-the-Moon? guitar ballad '...And The Earth Stood Still', which slots perfectly into their "sometimes sinister ethos".

More impressive work comes from last year's breakout single 'Love Like This'; a flawless illustration of what they can do with their tasty harmonies (and what they can do rivals the likes of that little undiscovered band called The Beatles). A stairwell descent of the totally 60s harmonies winds up with punchy guitars and a refreshingly heavy bass-line.

The versatility of their melodies are put head-to-head in multiple versions of 'Shame' and 'Second To None'.

• Inspired by an old interview with pop legend Micheal Jackson where he, on a rare occasion, let his guard down, 'Shame' starts out with dark guitars. Yet it still evolves into those infamous harmonies with a more grungey touch. It starts off as something very Drenge but manages to blossom back to their early influences with 70s rock, complete with simply magnificent guitar solos that'd make the toes of any other bands of their caliber curl in envy. In contrast, the more 70s and summery aspects of the chorus are brought out in That's Nice's gorgeously electropop remix. This track is much more boppy and carefree than the original, and even sounds like something Smallpools would dish out.
• 'Second To None' is a less Pink Floyd-y, more Peace-y kind of kaleidoscope. Josh Moriarty's clean-cut vocals are most dreamy here than in their other efforts. It's almost like a smoky room; it feels cold and murky over such fuzzy guitar chords. In Good Night Keaton's hand clapping remix, the vocals are even more trippy as they dilate into a trance-like state over video game-y beats.

But I guess the arrogance first displayed in their Soundcloud bio is really nothing but a fresh, and honest take on their music, absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. No gimmicks, this is us; kinda stuff. Because it really is toe-tapping essentiality and manifests their promise of giving the audience the respect they deserve; they want to be remembered. Which really kind of is "music your kids will thank you for". And that's pretty cool shit.