MANCHESTERMUSIC IN THE CITY

The lack of daytime live events has caused my energy to slump somewhat and it's pissing down again. But a couple of weeks ago Meg invited me to join a Facebook group called Down The Tiny Steps Make The World A Happier Place, and they're scheduled to play at Piccadilly Records at 7.20 so I head out to see if it's true. Unfortunately I don't find out, as they've been shifted back to 8.10 by which time I'm committed elsewhere so I default back to Night & Day...

O CHILDREN
Night & Day, Tuesday 19:30

Nobody would ever accuse O Children of making the world a happier place, although as a self-confessed miserable sod I warm to them immediately. Singer Tobias has the sort of low-frequency growl not heard since the dark days of the Sisters Of Mercy coupled with the sort of physique that suggests an aversion to eating, squeezed into jeans so close-fitting he'll probably need a potato peeler to get them off after half an hour onstage in Night & Day's usual humidity. Drummer Sleath has clearly been at the Steve Morris form book, and guitarist Gauthier (are they making these names up?) rather likes his flange pedal. Good grief, is it 1982? And is bassist Harry going to get a telling off for wearing that light coloured shirt? About half their songs sound exactly like Joy Division. The other half sound quite a lot like Joy Division only with more fluid guitar. They're so derivative as to be bordering on the pointless, but I like them anyway.

Moho is in the hands of Channel M tonight and accordingly is teetering just the right side of chaos. Suppose they have even more reason than usual to make sure everything's spot on, as the opening band features one of their own...

THE ALL NEW ADVENTURES OF US + DATA.SELECT.PARTY + RUN TOTO RUN
Channel M at Moho, Tuesday 20:00

"Is there a gobby Scottish man anywhere?" Seems not; Channel M's motormouth compere Gerry is AWOL somewhere and it's left to his colleague Rachael Kichenside to introduce her own band, Run Toto Run. She's brought a quite astonishing collection of stuff onstage: flute, recorder, glockenspiel, melodica, er, small birdcage... most of these things will have been played within the first two songs. They have a sound which can only be described as gorgeous. Warm and rich and homely and delicate, it's like finding a little chamber orchestra in some woodland fairy glen. And yeah, that makes them sound horribly twee but they're not, at least not in an unpleasant sugary way - think more the childlike wonders of Múm or our own Tim And Sam band with singing. Always a fan of Rachael's solo work it's lovely to see how the band have given her songs wings without crushing their fragile beauty. "Frailty" sparkles and shines with the addition of double bass, guitar and violin and "Breakdown" is the sort of bittersweet thing you could put on if you were in a really crap mood and it'd make everything feel a bit better for three minutes.

I'm quite surprised when Data.Select.Party's frontman says something after a couple of songs - I'd kind of assumed they'd be from the North East or Scotland for some reason, maybe the early Futureheads and We Are The Physics type noise they make. Choppy dancey post-punk, Foals-ish entwining guitars with the a few spikes and disco beats, they're not bad as such, but nor are they doing anything we've not heard done a lot better elsewhere.

Did I imagine that or did The All New Adventures Of Us namecheck The Slowdown Family about four lines into their first song? Sounded like it. Which is interesting because if I'd been asked to pick one band they remind me of it'd be Liam Frost's crew. And not just because there are absolutely loads of them and they swap instruments a bit, although this is undeniably true. It's that same feeling of warmth and delicious melody, like coming in from a cold day to find all your friends waiting for you. There's so much texture here, great swirls of guitars and synths, handclaps and bells and hammering drums, and plenty of those moments where everything comes together in a great big massive crash of euphoria. One particularly sublime example comes in their last song when a saxophone that's been sitting at the side is suddenly brought into the mix and everything goes up a level. Sure there's a bit of Arcade Fire about them too but without that over-egged melodrama; TANAOU are not short on power when they have to be but in spirit they're more about things like the joys of vinyl records than existential questions. The sort of band that make you happy to be alive, even when you're tired and it's raining outside.

The prospect of next act Cheeky Cheeky And The Nosebleeds does not appeal - time to go home. No, not home as in my flat (the inside of which I've been only fleetingly acquainted with over the past few days) but here, Tiger Lounge, FictionNonFiction. Where I always end the last night of ITC (expect for last year, when they didn't do one). Lee tells me Graveyard Johnnys (see yesterday) have already been in touch after I pointed them in this direction. Who's on tonight then? Doesn't matter, really, although I'm told by a fellow regular that Mugstar, GNOD and The Sandells were all excellent last night - ah well, you can't do 'em all. Although rightfully accredited as an Official Fringe Event this year it's not really In The City here, it's just Tuesday, never mind the official closing parties - this is mine.

THE DUDS + GENERALISSIMOS
FictionNonFiction @ Tiger Lounge, Tuesday 23:00

The Duds do classic, noisy, Ramones-basic punk rock; just the two of them, singer/guitarist and drummer, but bags of energy between them and there's quite a pogo pit going on in the rather limited floorspace. It's an enjoyable racket and they're about as likely to pick up that life-changing record deal here as the bloke behind the bar, but music doesn't have to be about fashion and marketing.

"Hello, we're The Generalissimos and our first song is called Bruce Forsyth..." - what? A little later research reveals its title is actualy "Bruce Foresight", just one in a series of slightly dodgy puns that, along with their energetic mixture of shambly old-school indie and fun punk pop, suggests a familiarity with Britain's most underrated band Half Man Half Biscuit. Only stuffed full of wibbly keyboards and glorious tunes that wander towards cheesy without ever quite crossing the line; possible contemporaries would be the likes of Leeds' International Trust. "This is a new song, it's about what happens when a science experiment interrupts a cricket match" The actual details are hard to make out over Tiger Lounge's elderly and straining sound system but it doesn't matter; it's a top class bouncy indie pop tune.

And it's also the finale to my In The City 2008. There's one more band on here; over at Mint Lounge I could go for one last delegate-pass schmooze to the sound of Alan McGee's three new favourite bands, and at the same time equal my own ITC record set in 2006 of 54 live sets, but why? I reckon 51's a fair showing. I've only seen six bands tonight, but four of them have been brilliant, so I'm going to quit while I'm ahead.

http://www.myspace.com/ochildren
http://www.myspace.com/runtotomusic
http://www.myspace.com/dataselectparty
http://www.myspace.com/tanaoumusic
http://www.myspace.com/uptheduds
http://www.myspace.com/generalissimos

I'm posting this just 12 hours later and still trying to process it all. I didn't find a New Favourite Band, but I'm quite sure that Young British Artists, The All New Adventures Of Us and Barn Owl will be seeing some more of me. Local established favourites Kni9hts, The Lead Balloons, Laymar and Air Cav all put in fine showings and Run Toto Run turned out to be the most enjoyable case of solo-artist-gets-a-band since Johnny Dangerously co-opted his fellow Night & Day staff into I Am Kloot a decade or so ago. The Frazer King myth has swollen to several times its already generous size, but it was another up-and-coming local band whose bassist ended up in the cells for being rude to a police officer after a gig on Sunday and no, it's not for me to say who cos his mum might be reading this. Jessie Rose's phone probably hasn't stopped ringing but there'll be others, too; maybe the ones we least expect. The usual raft of apologies from me go out largely to the local bands whose sets I didn't catch - Red Vinyl Fur, The Star Fighter Pilot, Palmstruck, To The Bones, Arficeden, This Is My Lawnmower, Mr Lizard, GNOD, the Sandells, The Vortex, Spokes, The 66, DILE, Modern Bullies. It's not a case of taking them for granted as such, more that I know I'll have more opportunity to see them over the coming weeks and months than I would bands from further afield. And the fact that I can list off the top of my head what sounds like a solid line-up of talent from the bands I didn't get round to seeing says, I think, something about the excellent selection of stuff stuck in front of us this weekend. Check all these bands out alongside those I've written about.

It's so easy to be cynical about the whole thing, and large swathes of Manchester's music community seem to delight in doing just that year on year. To whom I say this - as a music fan, In The City is what you make of it. I appreciate I have the benefit of a bit of card round my neck that stops me having to pay to get in anywhere, but there's plenty of things on which are free to everyone - all the official Peter Street showcases, FictionNonFiction, the Zavvi and Piccadilly Records instores, Wotgodforgot which I sadly had to pass on due to slightly late running at Moho last night, the Channel M sessions, Night & Day's excellent lunchtime events, the jam-packed Green Bohemia bills at The Green Room and probably many more I've forgotten. The £45 or thereabouts I'd have had to shell out to see the line-up I did without that pass wouldn't even have scored you a day ticket to most of the summer's major festivals, never mind the three figures people are willing to spend on a full weekend one. And you don't have to sleep in a tent for this.

This is Cath Aubergine, Wednesday 8th October 2008, signing off til next year. See you there.

TUESDAY ITC - 7th October 2008


CELLAR VIE
To The Bones
Alex Johnson
Red Vinyl Fur

STUDIO
El Condorez
Sam & The Plants

http://www.myspace.com/tothebones
http://www.myspace.com/alexjohnsonuk
http://www.myspace.com/elcondorez
http://www.myspace.com/samandtheplants
http://www.myspace.com/redvinylfur


It started with a downpour and so it ended with a deluge. Manchester certainly delivers when it some to precipitation and this evening I’ve switched with Cath to cover the Peter Street side of things.

CELLAR VIE is pretty busy and actually makes a rather decent venue with the installation of a stage. I’ve been loosely corresponding with TO THE BONES who tell me of their exploits at the delegates hotel, from which they were ejected. There is only after all, one way to make an exit.

In the wake of some impressive press (not discounting MM’s own loyal coverage since 2005’s “Beakeriser”) there seems to be a convincing number of badges assembled. TTB don’t waste any time or energy and launch into their furious, guttural brand of modern hard charging, punk tinged rock. “Rex” is their anthem, a blistering mixture of growling punk rock that could sit alongside Fucked Up for intensity and elsewhere the guitar effects blend Sci-Fi with scorching post Sonic Youth splinters. Intense is the word to put in brackets after the name of To The Bones and there are also moments where I can fell the bleak, exciting instrumental breaks of Bauhaus set on fire and spat back at me. They culminate on “Sharkies Bone Symphony” where riffabulous guitars underpin the kind of vocal blasts I last heard on a Discharge record. Like I say, intense and one of the more exciting bands of the week.

It seems almost ridiculous therefore that Blackburn’s ALEX JOHNSON has to follow that. It’s like trying to follow Jerry Lee Lewis after he’s burnt his piano, the venue and a whole street down. The fresh faced Mr Johnson doesn’t let that phase him and his gentle, gossamer songs float carefully up to the rafters and then out onto the drizzled streets. Johnson can also make himself sound a little like a very young Jack Johnson (no relation I’m sure), which means he’s also got a very keen commercial ear too. In some ways it’s rather nice to have some uplifting acoustica just for a change, even if the themes are splattered with the beautiful sound of broken hearts.

A trip round the corner to Peter Street, via quick on the street catch ups with John Robb and then Johnny Jay leads me to the basement bar STUDIO. Luckily I’m just in time to catch EL CONDOREZ burning it up. After a guitar string went west, a tuner broke and some other stuff conspired against them they made it into full action mode. For them they felt it went badly, but upfront it’s probably the best I’ve seen them play. Supercharged with a tornado of a sound. For a trio the sound they create is far bigger than the sum, where bass drums and guitars interlock into an almost impenetrable wall of edgy rock n roll. This is the sound of the 70’s dragged by time machine into the present day. The thing is today’s world of Ben Shermans and play-by-numbers George Formby songs (played-in-a-busking style), are no match for music, this powerful. America should beckon, but there’s such rich vein of English rock transmitted out of this, that I can see a wide appeal to anyone who likes their guitars intelligently loud and coloured by blues structures, as it envelopes the soulful, determined vocals of Brad. If a band deserves something out of this years event it has to be El Condorez.

Somehow, somewhere, TWISTED NERVE still exists and it seems are back. Noted for being one of the original post-Madchester indie-establishment labels, TN took an unforrtunate nosedive after the ascent of Badly Drawn Boy. Anyhow, TN hijacks the second half of the Studio showcase with SAM AND THE PLANTS. It is very twee too, as the male / female duo play a variety of acoustic instruments, including a flute, generating along the way, what sounds like incidental music for some 1960’s kids programme. It’s a bit clever at times, as you’ll notice that more than one instrument may be being played at once. The vocals are perhaps a little dour (that seems to be the desired effect) and plainly narrative and it would have been nice to have layered in some expert singing to supplement the dreamy and ultimately impressive soundtrack.

It’s a mad, final dash back to CELLAR VIE to catch the irrepressible combo that is RED VINYL FUR. The feisty female quartet are the living embodiment of late 70’s / early 80’s new wave in its finest and most genuine form. It’s the kind of sound you’ll need to research – it predates the Pixies, feeds off punk and heaves forward like a melodic lo-fi juggernaught. If you can imagine Pat Benatar fused with the Buzzcocks and Curve that we’re getting somewhere. There are echoes of Dinosaur Junior, Sonic Youth and some rather bloody, straight up, honest to god rock and roll. For me though it has to be the guitar parts on their smasher of a single “Take What You Want” with it’s phase and flange effects – no-one quite knows how to make that kind of sound anymore, especially when funnelling some vigorous rhythms through the whole plot. MM’s Cath once said that this band should be battling it out with gig-goers in a mosh pit and I think I’d absolutely agree with that. This is an often angry attack and I’m pretty sure that in a face-off, it’d be even more energetic and confrontational – they should do that ! – RVF versus the world !




Jonny A

ITC MONDAY 6th October

DRY BAR
Sandbox
Fake Kings
New Antics
Shanty Town
The Imogen Styles
Minus IQ

MOHO
The Molotovs
The Cordels


http://www.myspace.com/sandboxuk
http://www.myspace.com/fakekings
http://www.myspace.com/themolotovs
http://www.myspace.com/theimogenstyles
http://www.myspace.com/officialnewantics
http://www.myspace.com/thecordels


It’s certainly a little busier out in the venues, on this Monday night and there’s a significant increase in the presence of badges. Weirdly though it’s still light on general punters and I wonder how Cath’s getting on down the other side of the tracks.

DRY BAR is in a better swing than yesterday and SANDBOX are a very interesting new wave beat combo. A four piece comprising of three boys and a central girl, who wields a mean guitar and a really smart haircut. Whilst style is ever important here, it is backed up with some well turned out rock, bristling with crack shot drumming and youthfully handled guitars. The singer though has a fantastic appeal, generating a gutsy comparison with Penetrations Pauline Murray and some sounds that aren't that far away either, from the new wave rock sounds of the late 70’s..

In the back room it's the appropriately titled FAKE KINGS, who seem to have become a covers band without really quite realising it. I don’t want to crush any dreams but the first song cues up elements of the Arctics (writ large), The Enemy, Courteeners and Twisted Wheel. Amazingly they cram in two fantastically catchy tunes in amongst the tribute twangs. It's all a bit Mod, but just like the classic movement, this current sound may just fade away to reveal something all together more appealing. They can play and they can write songs, but really they just need to write them for themselves.

For the first time I take a trip this weekend to MOHO. It’s a smart set up and Channel M are in full flight filming tonight’s shindig for their excellent music shows. Second to none say I. On a very brightly lit stage and being circled by cameramen are The Molotovs…


THE MOLOTOVS are very explosive (ha!). Their music is a shrewd cocktail (double ha!) and interesting juxtaposition of melody and angular post jangling indie disco. One minute they use tumbling drums, a bit of world music (post-Paul Simon) and a sideways perspective that seems to fit perfectly with their home student town of Oxford. The Molotovs are the kind of band that appear to have crooning, melodious songs that burst out in a live setting. It’s an often dramatic delivery yet there’s never any sign of too much adrenaline, even if the bass summons up quite a manly sound. This is a band who are certainly hard to categorise, thanks mainly to the fact that everything is subtly balanced and expertly executed. A grower I’d say, assisted by a welcome feeling that repeated listens will reveal more.


THE CORDELS are a smartly dressed trio crammed into the second small room. In fact it’s like being in someone’s front room. The PA is just for the vocal and everything else hits you straight out of the bands backline. It’s a fantastic sound – maybe the best and most intense so far. The guitarist has immediate problems on takeoff when what looks like a Fender Jag decides to make spitting and crackling sounds. Within minutes the Fender Tele comes out and I kid you not it sounds awesome, especially with that broken twangy overdrive and some brilliant chord phrases. At times the guitar parts are like U2 but with the bite and anguish of The Clash. The bass player is almost providing a mini-pogo ; he sounds ace as he thumps in a series of faultless notes and sings capably over the top. The other two add in backing vocals and the drummer looks like he could bang the skins for anyone. It’s the sound of proper pub punk pop rock – intense and crowded with a series of memorably hard hitting songs. In some way, I’d hate to see these guys on a bigger stage, but they do appear to deserve it.


The final push takes me back to DRY BAR. Here I find NEW ANTICS executing a very competent Happy Mondays meets Stereo MCs; a nicely packaged sound of Madchester past. With a great baggy groove (although with a little too much guitar diddling), the singer comes across very much like Sean Ryder. Even the keyboards (or backing track) sometimes steals the jazzy coolness of Kinky Afro. Obvious comparisons, but they do have some rather ace, well written tunes, “Solar From The Sun” is particularly magnificent. Check out their MS for some great sounding demos – this band were even more impressive on reflection..

Popping back down into the basement THE IMOGEN STYLES have their projector screen set up. They seem to be running Vista and I’m almost waiting for Bill Gates to bound on stage to announce that there’s a new O.S. out. As it happens the laptop clicks into life with a monotone synthesised monologue and snappy ZooTV era graphics. Before you know it they’ve lurched into a brutal form of disco over which a bloke is angrily shouting / singing. It’s a set marked with exclamation marks and crude electropop, but if they’re going for stylish minimalism, they’re more or less winning.


SHANTY TOWN are probably much nearer to the sound of The Courteeners / Twisted Wheel and their homespun tunes are real chants from the terraces. There’s a big bus load of fans and some laddish / manly swaggering. Musically though they manage to hold their own with the busy sound of guitars pushing out over some innovative use of effects. Some of the guitar lines seem a little basic, but there’s also a little bit of punk rock about them that provides some rugged charm. It’s a very pure, distilled combative sound, which sounds like the perfect soundtrack for a boozy night out.

A quick pop in to NIGHT & DAY (so easy they should really have an interconnecting door installed) and there’s a young man with just his electric guitar and some backing tracks. It shouldn’t work – it’s like a band in a box, but it all sounds really rounded. His vocal is sturdy and able to execute a good range. Essentially it’s like a folk musician with an electronic backing group – portable and a sound engineers and venues dream, when it comes to setting it all up.

MINUS IQ are from Barnet and are one of the few bands that actually bothered to hand out flyers to me this year. Purely for that I hang around until well past 11pm (despite being back at work in this very City at 7am – it’s not very rock and roll I know !). They’ve got themselves dressed in some rather special clothes; outfits so skinny I doubt they’d get a five pound note into their back pocket without ripping the backside off their pants. Oddly this band who look like The Hives and MCR fronting The Face Magazine, come out with a big bunch of stadium sized 80’s numbers. They bounce with synths and the singer has this semi-falsetto highlight. They quote some obvious references on their own MySpace, but I honestly think they’ve come up with something a little different that has a slight Scando-rock flavour - and I’d definitely listen to this bunch again.


And with this, I slip gently off in the direction of north Manchester...



Jon

Not sure I could physically cope with another night of dashing between venues, and Ruby Lounge looks like the best overall line-up tonight. And so far, Frazer King haven't managed to get themselves banned from the place so we might even get to see them! Tony's outside when we get there, but relax, he's just nipping out for some food. Seems his "throwing out" of The Attic on Saturday was rather literal - specifically most of the way down that iron spiral staircase. Yep, the one that I've always thought was pretty dubious from a health and safety point of view at the best of times, especially in the wet. In case there's anyone from the relevant council department reading this...

VAGNER LOVE + YOUNG BRITISH ARTISTS + THE JESSIE ROSE TRIP + FRAZER KING + ROYAL TREATMENT PLANT
Ruby Lounge, Monday 20:45

Sometimes you just have to stop running about, lodge yourself in one venue for an evening and see what it throws at you. One band I've seen before and know I like, three that are on my must-see list and one about whom I know nothing; what more could anyone ask for from an ITC fringe showcase?

First up are Vagner Love, whom in case your international sports knowledge is a bit lacking are named after a Brazilian footballer with a somewhat inadvertent sideline in home internet porn. This in itself is pretty ace. The fact that they've been together just a matter of months and yet are seriously tight and coherent and bursting with instantly likeable tunes is even better. Anchored by the brilliant drumming of Bone-boxer Ben Taylor and fronted by Hasan Naeem's just-got-out-of-bed-and-accidentally-wrote-this-brilliant-pop-song vocals their melodic indie rock sounds both transatlantic cool (think Dinosaur Jr and Buffalo Tom) and proudly Mancunian (Oasis when they were good). Feel the love! (as someone cheesier than me might well write... oh, I just did...)

Young British Artists are also pretty new on the local sceneand also rather exciting. They specialise in dark-edged melodic post-punk with prominent runs of bass melody, informed by the likes of The Cure and Joy Division, and there's this amazing Longcut-like distant feel to the vocals. Only when we get a bit closer do we realise this is attained by having an old-style 50s radio announcer mic feeding into a megaphone, which is bordering on genius. There's only one song on their Myspace page currently but I can vouch for all the rest being every bit as good, especially the last track where the keyboard's brought to the foreground whilst the drummer, now shirtless and soaked in sweat carries the whole thing along at a frenzied pace.

I've always thought you only notice drumming if it's really good or really bad. That's two good ones in a row...

It's suddenly absolutely rammed in there, and I don't just mean Frazer King's regular crew (they're mostly outside having a smoke), but a lot of delegate passes. Jessie Rose is already being hailed as the saviour of Manchester (or something) across the local press and it's not hard to see why. She looks cool as fuck and sings like a jazz club veteran twice her age and size with a string of broken dreams and a bottle on hand to fix them. So far so Amy Winehouse, yeah, I know, but on top of this Ms Rose is a skilled multi-instrumentalist (well, pretty hot on both piano and guitar anyway) with a solid band around her, The Jessie Rose Trip. Like the Jimi Hendrix that tops their influence list she's savvy enough to know that even the greatest solo talents shine the brightest like this; let's hope that if any of the suits frantically tapping at Blackberries do consider her worthy of investment they don't just stick her in a studio with a bunch of session players.

Never mind the suits though, the band everyone I run into seems to be talking about is onstage next, or about six of them are anyway. "We're just waiting for our singer..." Nathan McIllroy, legend in the making, has been wandering around in a long dark coat dishing out flyers that state "Frazer King - willing and able to suck corporate cock"; later in the set a song will be dedicated to the delegate who declined on the grounds he "didn't have space in his pocket". Tell you what, try ditching all the business cards and come and enjoy some insane magpie punk folk soul music. One minute they're swinging like the in-house turn at a Levenshulme Irish pub, the next they're ratcheting up the pace like Gogol Bordello on cheap speed. The only contemporary thing they sound remotely like is the waywardly eclectic Devotchka, but unlike said Americans this ramshackle bunch came from the concrete of Wythenshawe as opposed to some music school; they just seem to have absorbed pretty much every form of music ever somewhere along the way, along with a fair quantity of alcohol replenished at least once during the set by friends passing cans over the barrier. And at the end someone else appears onstage with a ukulele. They've got the tunes and the attitude and a growing collection of possibly apocryphal myths about them and if we're being blunt about this whole In The City thing, Tony Wilson would probably have loved them. They would probably have thought he was a wanker. I love them. They probably think I'm a wanker. This is the fucking point. Where were you?

The crowd has thinned somewhat by the time Royal Treatment Plant take to the stage around midnight (I have to keep reminding myself that back in the real world most people haven't got the week off work) but this doesn't stop the London five-piece throwing everything they can into their performance. Guitarist Sam, drummer Chris and bassist DJ build the frantic, jump-round-the-room punk pop foundations but there are two elements which lift this band well above the average. Firstly there's singer PP, who's got that Duke Spirit pretty-girl-but-definitely-one-of-the-boys thing going on, thrashing at her guitar with her hair flying all over the place and singing every line as if it's the most important thing you'll ever hear. Secondly, some deliciously squiggly garage punk keyboards courtesy of a man called Tom whose corkscrew curls seem to have a life of their own. It's a joyful, sweaty and fun end to the evening and yet another well-crafted line-up from the very on-the-case crew at Ruby Lounge.

http://www.myspace.com/vagnerloveband
http://www.myspace.com/youngbritishartists
http://www.myspace.com/thejessierosetrip
http://www.myspace.com/frazerking
http://www.myspace.com/royaltreatmentplant

So, the final blast tonight. Not much in the way of daytime stuff today, unless you wanted to go and hear Jarvis Cocker lecture about song lyrics. I always considered his rather over-rated, so I don't. I can assure you other MM writers have been out and about all weekend, so please keep checking back here even if you're bored of my ramblings by now...

Cath Aubergine, who's always got room in her pockets for tip-offs about great new bands...

LIGHTS
Night & Day, Monday 18:00

...and I'm back in Night & Day, about two hours after leaving. Lights is the stage name of 18-year-old Ben Leftwich, according to the listings, (although as he tells us he's 19 now) and I'm stunned. It's pretty rare for one so young to carry off the solo singer-songwriter thing with this level of depth. When he introduces "an old song", such as the beautiful "Pictures" you're left thinking what, he was probably still at school when he wrote this? His voice is rich and rapt with yearning, like there's some aching soul behind his fresh face and his delicate guitar picking is lovely. His songs are mostly in the realms of heartfelt ballads and yet he manages to avoid cliches both lyrically and melodically. That, in this genre, is no mean feat in itself. Major labels have noticed, apparently, and I'm not surprised.

REAL DOLLS
Piccadilly Records, Monday 18:35

Afterwards I'm just stood outside with Phil the soundman from Dry Bar in the two venues' unofficial smoking and catch-up zone, lamenting the lack of anything much electronic on this years' bills. I love guitars as much as the next person but I love sequencers too and I'm badly in need of an electro fix. And then the doors of Piccadilly Records open and there's bleeps and beats and... a bloke and a woman in ridiculous orange sunglasses bouncing around. They - plus bassist and keyboard player - are The Real Dolls, and they play gloriously cheap electro rock'n'roll with daft shouty rapping. It's like a technicolour shot of adrenaline and lasts for approximately ten minutes. Ace.

GRAVEYARD JOHNNYS
Bedlam, Monday 19:00

I'm doing the ITC dash for what feels like the 37th time this weekend (I've got my Northern Quarter to Peter Street time down to under ten minutes), heading up to Chicago Rocks when I can't help but notice a great big filthy racket blasting out of Bedlam. It comes courtesy of Graveyard Johnnys, who play 1950s-inspired rock'n'roll with the firepower of punk metal, a drummer whose face is masked by a bandana, the most violent abuse of a stand-up double bass I've ever seen. Seriously. You wouldn't want to pick a fight. Even the bouncers (and I'm talking proper Peter Street spec heavy bastards here) are standing well back. They describe themselves as "the three horsemen of the rockabilly apocalypse" and this is no idle claim. So where did this unearthly noise come from then? The deep south, of course... of Wales, that is. I note they are soon to support Goldblade at Camden's legendary punk rock venue Dingwalls, and somehow this doesn't surprise me.

BARN OWL + FRIENDS ELECTRIC
Chicago Rock Cafe, Monday 19:20

I always think that big angled mirror above the stage in Chicago Rocks (formerly Life Café) is pretty weird. Not a venue you want to be playing if anyone in the band's got a bald spot they're worried about. This is unlikely to be a concern for any of Barn Owl, five not unattractive young Glaswegian lads with a nice line in widescreen expansive post-rock-flavoured indie characterised by walls of guitar echoes, stirring chord progressions and a twinkling glockenspiel. The Live Guide references Mogwai and Arab Strap, you know, because it's seemingly obligatory to describe Scottish bands only in terms of other Scottish bands... that said, neither's exactly wide of the mark, but I'd also throw in stuff like British Sea Power in their more sweeping moments, Ride, Kyte - all good things, anyway. They play their entire set lit in deep blue and I really hope that's their own idea, as it works beautifully. Maybe the first completely-new-to-me band of the weekend I'll actually make an effort to see again.

Seems I'm not the only one craving something a bit electronic. I'd actually expected there to be a lot more of the "we like Daft Punk but we also like guitars" type stuff at this year's event as there seems to be a lot of it buzzing around Myspace and the local unsigned circuit here and elsewhere, as it is the place has suddenly filled right up for Friends Electric who stand somewhere between The Whip and Errors in the full band electro spectrum. Formed in 2007, as yet they don't quite have the catchy tunes of the former nor the creative weirdness of the latter - and the rather blunted sound in the place (which unlike many of the Peter Street showcases has a long history of live gigs outside of ITC weekend, albeit not so much since the rebranding) is doing them no favours. Ones to watch though.

http://www.myspace.com/lightsyork
http://www.myspace.com/therealdolls
http://www.myspace.com/graveyardjohnnys
http://www.myspace.com/barnowltheband
http://www.myspace.com/friendselectricmusic

Cath Aubergine... Rest of Monday to follow... will Frazer King actually get to play a gig? Watch this space...

JAKE FLOWERS + HOMELIFE + AIDAN SMITH + SALLY MURRAY + GNU AND THE SHREW
Night & Day, Monday 13:00

So Sunday night finished up in oddball pop territory; it's quarter to one on Monday and that's still very much where things are at. There's a gnome with a watering can on Night & Day's front speakers and some distinctly creepy looking dolls on sticks on the stage. This is all quite normal procedure for Manchester's strangest acoustic pop duo Gnu And The Shrew: a girl with a unique voice, a man who doesn't say much, an acoustic guitar and bass (you don't see enough acoustic basses, it really adds depth to the sound) and a glittery pastel-coloured parallel universe.... Lyrically it's like listening to an intriguing book of short stories - Little Jack Horner gets a look in, there's a quite brilliant song about a night out at the bingo, the man from the Gas Board ("how can he be such a fraud?"). In a way there's some common ground with Aidan Smith - who, incidentally, is meant to be playing in half an hour, but there's no sign of him yet...

I'm not sure I like the way that gnome's looking at me. Could just be me. I've not actually eaten anything since those Walkabout nachos about 20 hours and ten live sets ago. By the end of their set I have a mouthwatering fry-up in front of me. I love Night & Day...

Sally Murray sometimes makes her guitar sound like a harp. Originally from Nottingham, she's relocated to Manchester where her multi-layered, left-field new-folk and unconventional kaleodoscopic melodies should find many friends amongst the city's outposts of such, Mushaboom and Red Deer Club and the like. There's a distinctly psycedelic side to it - a male friend, whose name I didn't catch, sits alongside her, variously making space noises on an analogue synth, whooshing cymbal flourishes or rushes of percussion. She finishes the set alone, standing at a piano; eclectic and individual she's like a homespun Feist, and Nottingham's loss is Manchester's gain.

Ten past two. There's still no sign of Aidan Smith. Slightly disappointed. Homelife, who's meant to be on after him, step up to the stage and start setting up... Ah, hang on, here he is... Storming in off the street, electric piano slung over his shoulder, straight onto the stage, coat off... "I got the time wrong..." and he's ready to go.

We get just four or five songs but every last one is outstanding. It's not unknown amongst singer-songwriter types to write and sing in a third party character, but few have Smith's wayward imagination. Back in the 19th century we meet the man who built the first merry-go-round but has fallen on hard times; then in present day Manchester a man who lives in his car on Percy Street (we presume he means the one in Hulme) and hangs out with the ladies of the night. And of course there's his masterpiece "Murder Ballad" with its lager-fuelled violence, death and retribution. It's basically a modern take on music-hall; his studies are so spot on you can't help but laugh out loud at times. Like when in the latter tune he intones "We tried to have words with these three student birds" (and later graphically describes dishing out a kicking behind the pub) in his well-spoken voice whilst tinkling virtuoso piano seemingly effortlessly. Each song gets massive applause and pretty much everyone would like some more they can't really afford to push the timings back any further. Homelife, meanwhile, play the sort of ultra-leftfield modern electro-jazz-folk I struggle to connect with at the best of times and it seems to go on for about twice as long as my brain can cope with.

Mike Flowers Pops. Brandon Flowers. Funny how it's not a name generally associated with the delicate and sensitive. Until now. Jake Flowers plays warm, nostalgic-sounding rootsy indie folk with a little smattering of country, fingerpicking through heart-warming chord changes like the I Am Kloot in acoustic mode and generally soothing away the hangovers which are starting to drift in by this point. Subject matter - love, life, childhood, the lost spark from a relationship igniting the spoils of a firework factory raid and raining love back onto the town... yeah, I put that in to see if you were still reading. He probably put it towards the end of the set to see if anyone was still listening. The fireworks theft was real, apparently, happened somewhere near where he comes from. I had no idea Shropshire was so exciting...

http://www.myspace.com/gnuandtheshrew
http://www.myspace.com/sallymurraythemusical
http://www.myspace.com/fancybarrel (Aidan Smith)
http://www.myspace.com/madwaltz (Homelife)
http://www.myspace.com/jakeflowers


Overall, much credit is due to Night & Day for this wonderful little wake-up session. Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be much else in the way of daytime live music today - even most of the fringe stuff doesn't get going until about six. Walking back home through Piccadilly I realise I look like a zombie already and there's still two nights to go. The inclusion of a bottle of vitamin punch in the delegates' packs this year was most welcome, but they should have really stuck in one for each day.

It's time to go out again soon, isn't it? :-)

Cath Aubergine - yes, I am "on something". Multivitamins, mostly.

MICACHU AND THE SHAPES
Chicago Rock Cafe, 23:45


It's quarter to Monday somewhere up Peter Street and I have no idea what's going on. Micachu And The Shapes have something of the early 80s about them - not so much in their sound, which is pretty much impossible to reference to anything past or indeed present (apart from, possibly, a primary school class covering The Cardiacs), but in the spirit. The sense that pop shouldn't be constrained by any rules. They've played with Mystery Jets in the past and have a similar magpie approach - but even more so. Songs chop and change in pace, rhythm, anything. A miniature guitar with possibly alien tunings, batteries of unexpected percussion, twinkly things, Fall-like fuzz guitar and snare-drum mantras, twisted bossanova pops, sing-song hallucinogenic nursery rhymes and deranged chants... This is the outermost fringe of frothy art-pop, and it'd be pretty damned weird at any time; at midnight on a Sunday in the sort of shiny bar the vast majority of people watching would never set foot in normally it's a very long way off the scale.

I have been watching music almost constantly for 11 hours, and I really think I should go to bed...

http://www.myspace.com/micayomusic

Cath Aubergine, midday Monday, now headed straight to Night & Day for Aidan Smith and a fry-up.





Hello it's me ...
I've had to butt into Caths post to just ensure some continuity - she's much more efficient than me and got her post in on time

- I for one, didn't... but Read on


J



SUNDAY ITC 5th OCTOBER

NIGHT & DAY
Alexander Wolfe
John Stammers
The Jannocks
Airship

STUDIO
Small Screen Lightshow
Razmataz Lorry

THE BAY HORSE
Kev Fox


SACRED TRINITY CHRUCH SALFORD
Stranger Son Of WB

WALKABOUT
Dead World Leaders

http://www.myspace.com/alexanderwolfe
http://www.myspace.com/johnstammers
http://www.myspace.com/thesmallscreenlightshow
http://www.myspace.com/razmatazlorryexcitement
http://www.myspace.com/kevfox
http://www.myspace.com/thejannocks
http://www.myspace.com/airshiptheband
http://www.myspace.com/strangersonofwb

On a big recommendation from Cath, I took Dom Politburo down to NIGHT & DAY for a big slice of their all day Veggie breakfast. For much of the weekend, the venue has been putting on free matinees and to help shake off the morning’s cobwebs and supply the perfect soundtrack to a much needed high tea – well a fry up in this case. It may not be cheap, but it is damn satisfying – so a further recommendation from our infrequent food and drink guide stands.

To gradually ease the day in, ALEXANDER WOLFE has made the long hard journey north from London. He serves up a mellow jaunt, peppered with a brisk acoustic glow and a tender sway. With a firm but dreamy vocal, he brings out a Travis / Coldplay tone, but with the possible eloquence of Guy Garvey. Wolfe certainly enjoys this folky, solid material as he paints it all in a post-Radiohead landscape.

Today’s session, it seems, is being curated by the mightily impressive local stable SWITCHFLICKER (clubs / labels / genre) and later treats will include Magic Arm. But for now the next carefully delivered set is from JOHN STAMMERS. Having sampled his material via various releases on Gardensticks and Switchflicker, live this ambling, semi-countrified sound is respectably pretty, as it ebbs forward from the distant stage. From the dark corners of the venue, there’s a sudden eruption of clapping and somehow he seems to have smuggled in a small army of fans. They seem more than happy to get up a little earlier at the weekend just to be mesmerised by his slide picks. With a wash of gentle ear caressing melody, separated by the pluck of a cello and the superb flow of percussion, this is a rather special, little session from the best of Manchester’s unsung acoustic heroes.

A quick trip across town later and I’m suddenly on Peter Street. It seems some of the industry types have now actually arrived and with the SPEARHEAD IN THE CITY event at STUDIO becoming an almost essential annual fixture, I’m still surprised it’s crowded with people wearing badges. But I soon find out why; there’s a free bar. I’m not that interested in hard drinking on a (post-Sat) Sunday lunch, but I am interested in what’s going on in the vicinity of the venues odd, lo-rise stage. From Seaham, County Durham I find SMALL SCREEN LIGHTSHOW. I pretty much know I’m not going to find anything that new here, but I do experience some smartly turned out rolling guitar crunches and chops. This new alternative rock, bids for both indie credibility and the shiny badge of the Math rock genre, as it pulses with the vibrant musical verve of an early Jam. When they wind up the intensity though, it gets far more interesting and the energy overcomes the lack of discernible hooklines. I think that they’re nearly there but just not quite.

I also think any band / artist who call themselves the RAZAMATAZ LORRY EXCITEMENT deserves at least one good, hard listen. At first I think the DJ has put on a record really stupidly loud. But no, there’s actually someone on stage.

Kevin Dosdale is the unlikely Geordie anti-hero. He looks as though he’s just as likely to be lugging the gear for the other bands, rather than delivering a one man show of magical hardcore electronica. Dosdale is very animated, as he flicks switches, triggers things and generally busies himself with the manually activated sounds that most people would be content to leave to the brains of an Intel processor. Then he sings. It’s somewhere between a hardcore yell and a falsetto onslaught – imagine something somewhere between Scissor Sisters, Nine Inch Nails and FischerSpooner. It’s a throbbing, deafening, leg moving set, as the venue shakes and council noise meters are taken to their very limits. In terms of what this actually distils together, it’s the kind of clever fusion that Tom Vek used to great effect a few years back, but with a big fuck-off sequencer.
Dosdale therefore takes the very best of something and gives it a good 90 degree twist. Coupled with this super enthusiasm and dead keen, impressively accurate timings, one guy and a couple of synths never looked so exciting. ‘..The Worst Is Yet To Come..’ proclaims his MySpace – you should of course ignore this, especially once your hear his Foals Vs Bloc Party mash up on his web page... Expect to hear big things indeed

Over at WALKABOUT the Filter Mag showcase has assembled a pretty decent line up. I have to say though that the engineer’s far too heavy handed with the vocal, veering a little too much onto ear damaging limits. My hearing plugs are firmly in. It’s not a pleasant sound. However DEAD WORLD LEADERS are delivering a fine set where dark stadium-esque guitars are moulded to substantial drum beats. The searching vocal ensures that there’s an adequate verve, although it seems to lose it's way at one point. Ultimately the timely inclusion of some drifting hooks helps carry this shifting solid rock ever on. Some positives there but currently I can’t say I was left with a lasting impression.

The enigmatic event that is THE COUNTRY CLUB comes slowly into focus down in the basement of THE BAY HORSE. I’m not sure what kind of place this venue is. It always feels as though you have to be a little bit too cool for school here. It’s full of the good looking, well healed residents of the new ‘N4’, a district that sits somewhere between The Mighty Boosh and To The Manor Born. I’m sure in the long gone, old days it was a warm friendly boozer. It seems to take forever for the next bands gear to get set-up, but it's worth the wait for KEV FOX. He's a bit of a firm favourite here at MM and to add to his already formidable solo style, there's the addition of drums and double bass to bolster the trademark loops…Fox's stratospheric vocals are enthralling, especially when married up to the dramatic dynamics and a series of songs, that venture into louder volumes without diminishing any of the expected finesse.

By now it’s early evening and one would hope that Oldham Street would provide an embarrassing amount of music at the peak of ITC day one. Piccadilly Records provides an almost impossible platform in which to view a band. Looking through racks of albums and craning at some folks with a guitar over the top of a sign marked “Indie Singles” isn’t really my idea of a gig. Besides it just takes that long for the whole thing to get set up that I just get to thinking that there’s a band mid-set somewhere else.

Worse still at DRY BAR there isn’t one band on at all at any of the three stages and there aren’t any punters in either. What’s going on. There’s an easy remedy though, just pop next door.

NIGHT & DAY yet again, serves up one of the more interesting bands of the weekend. THE JANNOCKS, of which there are many, jam out a percussive brand of stoner country blues. The vocals at times have whispers of Pete Murphy and Nick Cave, before generally settling on an unsettling audio vision of Jim Morrision; a thickly hewn yell of melody and angsty vocal brawn. The songs are inventive, well crafted affairs, with little detours and long instrumental breaks that frequently offer a rather thrilling wig out. The set finishes with an eruption of sound that gets louder and more intense, despite every band member dropping their instruments as they individually add in more and more percussion. Night & Day echoes to the bounce of tribal rhythms and an almost impossible final burst of energy. The Jannocks have taken the middle ground between folk and rock, setting of a variety of explosions along the way and quiet possibly lifting the bar for a lot of other bands out there .

There are yet more surprises and Cheshire’s AIRSHIP deliver one of the best sets of the day. A young band who formerly went by the name of Rowley, it looks as though rehearsals and clever song writing can pay off. Handsomely. “Spirit Party” is a superb combination of grim northern guitar hooks, 80’s bass structures and the grand sing-a-long cheers of bands like Arcade Fire. If you also throw in a bit of West Coast melody and the occasional piano, Airship are an extremely convincing rock band providing the antithesis to the grotty disorganised shake of indie disco pop. They can’t stay unsigned for that long really.

Down in SALFORD something else is stirring. To celebrate the launch of an alternative to In The City, UNCONVENTION is the result of a lot of hard work from Fat Northerner and collaborators such as Red Deer Club. The event runs for several days, with a really interesting set of seminars aimed solely at the unsigned and the DIY industry that keeps this city going. And what a setting at THE SCARED TRINITY CHURCH, a venue now revered for it’s acceptance of the underground music scene.

In the magnificent surroundings of this compact chapel, STRANGER SON OF WB are assembling their set behind the largest set of PA speakers I’ve seen all weekend. “More Xylophone please…!” shouts frontman Gareth. Stranger Son have become something of a collective of Manchester’s most innovative underground musicians. Danny Saul (Tsuji Giri / Solo) is on bass – something he at times attacks in a rather violent trance. Lonelady is the guitarist and the subject herself, of plenty of attention after being snapped up by Warp Records and Domino Publishing. Dominic Politburo plays the said xylophone and keyboards as well as sharing some of the percussive duties that supplement the late 70’s drum machine. Gareth’s poetic assaults help this angular sometimes frayed and brutal sound take off. There are still moments where contagious hooks mesmerise and there’s an orchestrated quality to the long tracks that begin to buzz and throb in your head. The bass has a hungry growl as the guitar cuts across the whole delivery with a brittle array of slams and grinding mantras that also mutate into smooth, angular hypnotic sequences. The drum beats are stark and obvious references will come from those embryonic electronic days of Joy Division. This is all overlaid with the pound of a tom and snare, as old digital keyboards add in ice cold signatures set against the frosty ring of the wooden xylophone blocks. Stranger Son, quite possibly, have become one of those bands that are never the same at any two points in time. Personnel obviously change but the sounds and songs definitely lunge from one extreme to another, yet never fail, thankfully, to astound.

AIR CAV + TEN BEARS + HAYLEY FAYE
Friends Of Mine @ Joshua Brooks, 21:30

It's pushing half nine, so I've completely missed Hayley Faye's scheduled time at Friends Of Mine, and at this point I'm actually pleased that the event is running as late as expected, as I've been meaning to catch one of her sets for a while. She always showed promise fronting South Manchester indie trio Hannah, but in the three or so years since I last saw her play the shy little girl's very much grown up. She looks absolutely cool as fuck with her customised acoustic guitar, Converse boots and jet black hair, and her music has the bite and attitude to match. The tunes are glorious upbeat Smiths-ish indie with a dash of country, completely free from the navel-gazing drivel you often get with female (and indeed male) singer-songwriters. Her final, spiky "Shake" sees a few people moving their dancing feet. You can't help it, really.

Ten Bears are the latest venture for Sam Hammond, although if there is any difference besides the name between this one and his previous Deadbeats we're not sure exactly what it is. They play that sort of country-blues-swamp-rock'n'roll that owes a debt to Neil Young and always sounds great when you've had a few drinks and they've got a pretty big crowd down; the basement seems less like part of the ITC schmooze-fest and more like a great party.

Hayley Faye's Surbia labelmates Air Cav are headlining tonight, as the label seems to have hit upon the rather excellent strategy of not bothering to go through all the rigmarole of running an official showcase and simply taken over someone' else's session. It's a brilliantly dynamic set, kicking things into gear from the off with the strong singles "Picking At The Bones" and "Alliance". Later on, new song "Here Be Dragons" is a highlight, a clear illustration of the band's continuing development - changing pace, there's a quite bit in the middle where the drums stop and drummer Allan is just staring out from behind his kit with a wild look in his eyes. Singer Chris's voice is starting to go a bit - whether this is anything to do with a copious swearing session at the disastrous performance of his beloved Manchester City this afternoon is unknown (yes, the real world is actually continuing somewhere out there) but he holds it together for the final, towering "A Call To Arms". It's another passionate and powerful performance.

http://www.myspace.com/hayleyfaye
http://www.myspace.com/tenbearsmusic
http://www.myspace.com/aircavmusic

Cath Aubergine. At which point any sensible person would call it a night, but... sleep? And miss a gig?

LAYMAR + capital
Fierce Panda @ Night & Day, Sunday 19:45

Over to Night & Day to catch a bit of the Fierce Panda night, where capital ("there are no capital letters in 'capital'") are doing a pretty good Chameleons / Bunnymen thing considering they're from the south coast. As soon as I get through the door I just know they're going to be all (a) male and (b) dressed entirely in black, and guess what? Yep, they are. They themselves cite Boy-era U2 as an influence; yes, we can hear that too - plenty of assertive guitars and post-punk claustrophobia.

Right, look, I know ITC shouldn't be about going to see bands you've see 23 times before (yes, I've counted) but everyone's allowed a break, right? Hello again, Laymar. Last year at ITC they were out there on the fringe of the fringe, but since then, finally, this most unique of Manchester bands have been picking up the acclaim they deserve with universally positive reviews for their debut album released earlier this year. Quite rightly so, but on record you only get half the story. A Laymar live performance is an experience not to be missed.

This one starts with the rumble of distant thunder, crackling, half heard voices, before the sounds swell into a full-on progressive post-rock maelstrom. As ever, there are no pauses for applause or mucking about with things - this is be taken as a whole. There's a sublime moment about 20 minutes in where Ciaran Cullen blends a deep space dub bassline into the whirlpool; rolling and twisting, accelerating, the volume and intensity of the synth grows until David Paul crashes the drums in, throwing himself into it, Ciaran's almost thrashing the bass into the floor now as Colin Williams stands near motionless in the shadows, flicking the switches on keyboards to sonic chaos, and then slowly back to distant thunder. It's been a quite brilliant set even by their high standards, and I hope some of the crowd here for the later bands (The Spinto Band and The All New Adventures Of Us head up one of the strongest line-ups of the weekend, assembled by Fierce Panda) felt it too.

Time to move on again though... I completely fail to avoid The All New Adventures Of Us's manager whom I know through his involvement with another band. Promise I'll make the Tuesday one (Channel M session at Moho, also featuring Run Toto Run and, um, I dunno actually, I'm not that organised) - which I will, if I'm not dead or something...

http://www.myspace.com/capitalmyspace
http://www.myspace.com/laymarmusic

Cath Aubergine has places to be......

DAN MELROSE
Green Bohemia, Sunday 15:00

Quick dash down to the Green Room where things are running just late enough to catch the end of Dan Melrose's set. The things this man can do with an acoustic guitar are pretty incredible; folky pickings, scuttling calypso flourishes, frenzied acoustic blues, and his voice, too is fantastic - all gravelly and lived-in like some travelling bluesman.

SONS OF THE STAGE
Oxford Street, Sunday 15.30

No sign of Kid British (billed at 3pm) unfortunately so I'm just heading back to Walkabout on the grounds that I can get food there without missing bands, but... what's this? Sons Of The Stage have hit on the best promotional idea ever - they've pulled up a lorry opposite the Midland Hotel and are doing a gig on it! It's bluesy rock'n'roll, a bit laddish, a kind of Mancunian Kings Of Leon (although bear in mind any assessment of their sound is subject to traffic going past every so often) but they do it well and full marks for effort. Before long the police are on their way, but the job's been done by then. If you want to see them in a more conventional venue, they're at Dry Bar later tonight (Monday, billed at 11.35pm)

OUTSIDER + DEAD WORLD LEADERS
Walkabout, Sunday 16:15

Anyway, Walkabout. It's very much the more mainstream end of ITC unsigned in here, but the nachos are lovely. From Sheffield, Dead World Leaders do sparky, upbeat post-punky pop, somewhat hampered by the fact that the already rather high-pitched vocal (I'm reminded of the lad from JJ72, if anyone remembers them) is way, way too up in the mix. Once that's fixed it's punchy, hooky stuff full of choppy trebly guitar, albeit with a few too many "who-oh-oh-oh"s. Write some more words... Watching the Blackburn-based Outsider is entertaining for reasons even they might not be aware of. Behind the stage in Walkabout there's this ridiculous mural of a dreadlocked guitarist. Outsider's dreadlocked guitarist is standing right in front of it. This is, unfortunately, also considerably more interesting than their rather Stereophonics-ish soulful adult pop. I'm not saying they're bad; they actually do it very well and plenty of people buy this kind of stuff, but it's all a bit daytime radio for my taste.

Earlier on someone stopped me in the street and gave me a flyer with a really nice photo of four young men in dark coats standing in front of some rather imposing looking trees. They are Deadbeat Echoes and I'd nothing else planned for the late afternoon so I head down to Music Box to watch them. Only the promoters Designer Magazine have shoved the timings back and they won't be on til 6 now. Right, back to the Green Room then...

ROD THOMAS + NOMAD JONES
Green Bohemia, slight return, Sunday 17:20

Rod Thomas isn't so much a singer-songwriter as a one-man band with a rather lovely sound. His voice has a kind of inherent sadness and evocative poignancy to it, even if the melodies are quite upbeat. His "band" consists of a synth and a laptop but this isn't muso nu-folk, it's warm, pretty, heartfelt bittersweet pop. "I grew up in South Wales with not much to do, between two villages, which is why I play so many instruments..." he explains. As if to illustrate this point, for his last track he produces a ukulele from a cardboard box. It's not been soundchecked, or for that matter plugged in, so he plays it - and sings - acoustic style from in front of the mic.

It's such a lovely friendly atmosphere in here I really don't want to go back to horrible cold sticky Music Box. And Nomad Jones is on next, and I'm not going to walk out on him again.

He starts with a song "about getting on a train and going to Newcastle... and finding out your girlfriend's dumped you... and having to come back... this is for her, she wasted six hours of my life..." ah well, he got a bloody good song out of it, so it wasn't entirely wasted, was it? He reminds me of the young Johnny "Dangerously" Bramwell, the way he wraps everyday situations and emotions in beautifully poetic imagery. Another song is about "somebody I'd been going out with for ten days before she told me she was married... she's going out with one of my mates now, and divorced..." - once again, he's somehow made something beautiful out of his unfortunate love life. I could quite happily listen to him for a lot longer, but he's only got time for four songs. It's quarter past six by the time he's done, so I walk back past Music Box looking the other way hoping nobody sees me - apologies to Deadbeat Echoes, but, well, don't play for promoters who change your set time at the last minute if you want people to come and see you...

GEORGE BOROWSKI
BUSK @ The Garratt, Sunday 18:00

I have no idea who's on when at BUSK @ The Garratt but it's always a friendly little session, the antithesis of Peter Street, so I always try and stick my head in at some point. Who's next up, I ask on the door. "George Borowski." Amazing! For a start I had no idea he was even playing today, as he wasn't on the list. I'm not even sure he knew he was playing. By way of context, two years ago I was having that kind of ITC overload and after a trip home to lie down for half an hour, stopped by The Garratt because it's round the corner from where I live and I could hear music in there. Walked in on a set by George Borowski which was pretty exciting - the man is a Manchester legend and much cited as an influence by the sort of local indie rock royalty (Doves, for instance) that other peopel cite as influences themselves. And true enough he was about the most exciting thing we saw that day.

Since then I've seen him live on a great many occasions and got to know him a little; he's still a fervent supporter of the local unsigned scene at an age where most people stay in and watch Antiques Roadshow and - I'm most flattered to say - regularly reads my personal blog (www.myspace.com/upthedownescalator) and ManchesterMusic to keep up with the bits he's missed whilst hauling his battered old guitar around anywhere with space to plug it in. Today he's without said legendary instrument, having borrowed a nice shiny one off his daughter; he's also without his regular Fabulous Wonderfuls backing band, so it's an opportunity to play "some songs none of you know". Yep. Not even me. The sheer passion this man throws into every line is incredible, his long white hair flying as he sings of love and life and Manchester. And as with every time I've seen him he has the whole place smiling and cheering along, throwing in spoken addresses about keeping live music a positive thing. He can't resist pointing out my presence, and saying lots of extremely flattering and nice things about the work we do here at MM and even plugging my blog - and yeah, I feel slightly embarrassed but if it makes one more person read things I've written and maybe discover a new favourite band then that's got to be a good thing - that's what we're here for...

Later, outside, he's talking to Allan from Air Cav (who are playing over the road later) about the Industrial Revolution and how it led directly to Manchester's vibrant music scene. A true one-off, we're lucky to have him. The Witches are on next and I feel a bit bad walking away - it was here at this very session last year that they played their first ever gig (yes, we were there and so was George) but I've seen them once already this weekend, and choices have to be made...

http://www.myspace.com/danmelrose
http://www.myspace.com/sonsofthestagemusic
http://www.myspace.com/rodthomasmusic
http://www.myspace.com/nomadjones
http://www.myspace.com/deadworldleaders
http://www.myspace.com/outsidermusic
http://www.myspace.com/georgeborowski

Cath Aubergine, on a roll now...

Sunday morning starts somewhat less stressfully than Saturday. Tiscali have finally decided to reconnect me, the sun is shining, so it's off down to Studio for the first of the weekend's official showcases. Spearhead ITC presents the best unsigned music from the North East and tempts the delegates in with the promise of a free bar; a tactic which can prove rather useful for the bands involved. Last year's highlight The Chapman Family have gone from strength to strength and this year they've got the support slot with The Fratellis at one of the official closing party gigs down at the Academy on Tuesday. This year the remit's expanded to include Cumbria, and I'm mildly amused to see some words from a review I wrote - over a year ago, now - on the information sheet. That's got to be worth a free cherry VK, even if it is only just past 1pm. Back then the band in question were called Stars Of Track & Field, but apparently there was another one, so now they go under the (much better, in any case) name of Birds Vs Planes.

BIRDS VS PLANES + SHIN JIN RUI + SPIES IN LIMBO
Spearhead In The City at Studio, Sunday 13:00

Hailing from Carlisle, Birds Vs Planes have a modern take on northern post-punk with plenty of bite. There's a fantastic contrast going on between the deep swirl of ILikeTrains-ish post-rock-indie guitars and Jenny's upfront vocals. A truly excellent frontwoman she's melodic and assertive and got that cool-without-even-trying Karen O attitude thing and stage presence by the shedload. There are actually more delegates watching the band than hammering the free bar, which has got to be a first for in here. Anything else? Yep - a seriously powerful rhythm section. The complete package, basically.

You barely get time to take a breath between bands here. Nip out to make a phone call and by the time I've finished I can hear some very Interpol guitars... They belong to Shin Jin Rui. Urgent if slightly gloomy alt-rock is the order of the day here; decent enough, it might have gone down well in 2005 but here it's losing out to that free beer.

Spies In Limbo appear, at first, to have a similar problem - although their Franz Ferdinand flavoured art-pop comes with a load of good tunes. Their best one sees singer Robert Murray ditch his guitar in favour of battering at a big floor drum which suddenly gives them a whole new depth; by the end of it half of them are on various percussion, Murray's vocals are wandering off into Thom Yorke stratospheres and I rather like them. More of that sort of thing please.

The Small Screen Lightshow are also a bit 2005. Time to move on. Unbeknownst to me, the rest of Team MM have by now woken up and are headed in this very direction, so look out for Jon's review of the astonishingly-named Razmataz Lorry Excitement later in this blog...

http://www.myspace.com/birdsvsplanes
http://www.myspace.com/shinjinruinewcastle
http://www.myspace.com/spiesinlimbo
http://www.myspace.com/thesmallscreenlightshow

Cath. On it.

PS. ALL MY PHOTOS FROM 7 VENUES ON SUNDAY ARE NOW ONLINE...
http://s12.photobucket.com/albums/a215/MMinthecity/

SATURDAY 4th OCTOBER

FICTION NON FICTION @ TIGER LOUNGE

Johnny Valentine
Beat The Radar
Vagina Wolf
John Jones & The Beatnik Movement


DRY BAR

Tori Bragg
Joe Palmer
Lucy Allen
Rojo Lye
Xmas Lights


JOES BAR

Strange Ways
The Fayre


NIGHT & DAY

Silver Club


FRIENDS OF MINE @ THE ATTIC

Little Engine
The Lead Balloons




Oh my god. It’s Sunday morning, my pants are wet (from the rain I might add) and my head feels like someone’s ridden a motorbike and sidecar directly over it.

This isn’t the salubrious (or not) lifestyle of a ligging hack; merely someone who’s enjoyed the music of another great opening ITC night. Although on reflection, I was a little disappointed that the bands seemed to terminate at most venues by midnight.

Even Tiger Lounge turned into a student disco, the Warehouse Project opening party was £20 after 10pm and the Midland Hotel became a delegate free zone. Completely. Our record this year was 3.45am and this piece is in fact being written from the floor of a lock up rehearsal room in Stevenson Square - and I have a very bad headache. No sympathy required, but let me rewind to the start of the Saturday…

Sadly Break In The City isn’t on this year and the company that apparently organises it, have gone under, leaving a pretty big gap for the unsigned bands that benefited greatly from the free sessions and support of underground, undiscovered music.

No matter, as thankfully, quite a few events are ramping up the volume from early in the afternoon. So how good a deal is it that Tiger Lounge hosts the FictionNONFiction ITC series?. A post lunchtime landslide of the loud, the great and the new with smatterings of the random. Lee and Max hold court to their incredibly impressive series. Dressed in black, the pair spin music from every era in what I think must be Manchester’s Coolest Bar. Both the venue and the event are now pretty much synonymous with good music and great surroundings. Max distils his playlist from an untidy mountain of discs and tapes as he blesses the air with subliminal , pleasing and often subverted soundwaves.

So – It’s 3pm at Tiger Lounge and the first FnF band I see is JOHNNY VALENTINE, a neat four piece with youth on their side and a rock and roll ethic. The singer / guitarist has something of a Joe Strummer feel about him. Boozy ballads are riffed out alongside EuroGypsy punk sound structures. At times the band seem difficult to steer, changing gear like an old mini tugging a heavy trailer up a mountain pass, but they live dangerously as the bass rumbles, almost causing an avalanche – noise doesn’t, in this case, really annoy.

As time passes in some kind of vortex down here, the next outfit are BEAT THE RADAR, who assemble at 4.15pm. I first came across this band last year and their rough but ready demo showed promise. Twelve months on and Beat The Radar are a superb proposition. Two bands in and I think I’ve come across a possible favourite for the whole weekend. I can hear the kind of driving, organic leftfield rock of Idlewild as the band invest in Wooo’s and climatic guitar peaks. They mix reflective melody with a post math / EMO series of stunted arrangements. Incredibly exciting ; and need I say more than the fact that aA have just snapped them up for their label- Fascists ! – this is potentially a very big band for Manchester.



I think the next band will also go down as a notable bunch this weekend, purely on the basis of their rude, but magnificent name; VAGINA WOLF. Another very young troupe with an enthusiastic energy, the curly mopped guitarist / singer wears a hoodie for half the set. It’s a brittle sound, sometimes messy, often exciting and brash. There are a lot of obvious references, but somehow they’ve filtered them through a pleasant mangle of teenage oblivion. Think Foals dancing with Vampire Weekend whilst mainlining bleach and Daz. Awkward but damn impressive, especially when they start banging some extra drums around the place.

Zipping over to the Northern Quarter we find the trusty Dry Bar is stacked up with another supermarket style rush of bands from who knows where. TORI BRAGG is on the main stage with what looks like a collection of elderly relatives. Jazzy lounge played in a rock style abounds and at one point I thought I’d stumbled into a rugby club hosted wedding. She is a great singer but for me this is too much like cabaret. I half expect that someone from Disney is hiding behind a pillar ready and waiting to sign her for the next animated soundtrack.

Downstairs JOE PALMER is armed with an acoustic guitar as he serves up a brisk but gentle series of songs. It’s the stuff of heartache and young rockers dreams carried on a journey of three chord strums, taken almost to a point of distortion. He may even take on Get Cape once he refines his catalogue and carries a few more hooklines.

Back upstairs at the rear of the venue, LUCY ALLEN (no relation) is singing her little heart out, but the crowd is a little sparse. These are tunes from the American heartland, where ballads and country folk collide. She has a powerful voice, but it tends to be on one setting and it also seems that the songs need to be far more inventive and memorable too. For two girls and a guy it’s formidable and offers promise, but I really am beginning to get a general feel of the X-Factor here.

This is further aggravated by the appearance of the pretty, retro-50’s styled ROJO LYE. She’s stunning and has another impressive blend of the blues and soul to play with. The band seem smitten with rock clichés and it’s very hard to listen to, unless you’re in some sort of lift somewhere on a long ascent. Imagine Golden Earring with a smooth female operator but no Radar Love.

Luckily downstairs XMAS LIGHTS from Huddersfield are kicking up a storm. There’s only us down here and Phil (Beat) has had his car towed, so is no mood for compromises. Hence the sound is ramped up and the rock begins. Two synth players share duties up front on the screaming – one high pitched, the other a low growl. It’s all built on the foundations of loud progressive, hard, rock, with WWII scale assaults of noise and industrial strength blasts. Without getting carried away it’s probably as near as you’ll get to a sonic orgasm and death itself. It’s truly epic and I only count 2 ‘songs’ in the entire half an hour set. Awesome, ear damaging stuff!


Down at Joes Bar (which I think used to be a kind of counterfeit Blob Shop in its day) , there’s showcase on all day and some rather decent bands are getting a look in. Whilst STRANGE WAYS have a terrible name and sadly no songs to speak of, I’m curiously drawn to their performance. It’s tight, exciting and well honed. There’s an energy here like Snow Patrol or the Manics, but it seems funnelled into mediocre material. Loads of potential, but they need that headline grabbing riff.

The next up here are MM Radar faves THE FAYRE from Oldham. They have age on their side and a rasping tight brand of pent up, bottled up indie swagger. They take us on a scurry and spin on their roundabout of splendidly frantic tunes. There’s some way to go yet, but this band definitely have some potential, that one hopes is all going to come good quite soon. Bizarrely Oldham is turning into a kind of northern Camden with The Fayre and a host of other hot bands spinning out their three minute guitar pop.

And so we slip slowly into the evening....

PART 2

After the excitement of the first full day, dusk descends and the return journey to Night & Day suddenly leads to a panic. I’ve lost my wallet. Have I been hustled, dipped or has some cheeky cockney waif in a top hat been in my pockets ?

Crap – all my spends for the weekend are in there and two bank cards. My heart sinks as I retrace my steps. Call out over the PA at Joes ? Nope. Examined the pavement step by step ? Nope. Call into the Oldham Street Offy – after scanning their CCTV footage for half an hour I draw another blank. My wallet doesn’t come out that often, but the thought of a stranger having their evil way with its contents is all too much to bear. I leave a trail of tears all the way back to Night & Day and just ask the young man on the door if anyone has found a wallet ? Yes – what colour ? Anguish turns to relief and a small gesture of a bottle of Sol is all this fellow who saved my life had to be forced to accept. Honesty and integrity is alive and well at Night & Day.

And just as well and just in time, as SILVERCLUB spin out their electro backed, light and breezy, buoyant songs. There’s a cello at play and the staccato rhythms are sublime as they slip into a series of synth slabs and buzzy guitar. It’s a kind of acoustic hybrid, but where the sequencing has a harder edge and the samples and tones are a little bit tougher than your everyday dabblers. It’s still a sensitive affair and as the cello is then bowed, the mix of 80’s and glimpses of disco hardcore pour out with a sombre giddiness.

It’s pushing on for 10pm by the time I make it back to TIGER LOUNGE and the FnF shindig where the superbly long name of JOHN JONES & THE BEATNIK MOVEMENT describes a band who have their very own riot going on. The distortion is about as crushed as you can get and Mr Jones ( I assume he’s the band leader) hides his face behind a Joey Ramone styled carpet of long hair. It’s a billowing sound that sucks the energy from The Cramps and 80’s Matchbox with an equal glee, yet I like this whole Beatnik Movement idea as it doles out random collisions and youthful, self–destructive fun.

As the night begins to come to a close – most of the live stuff is shuddering to a close whilst the clubs turn into discos – I feel it’s a bit sad really that Manchester isn’t brave enough to put bands on later into the night. FRIENDS OF MINE, stuffed up in the confines of The ATTIC however don’t generally believe in clocks and with the enigmatic Pierre at the helm, you know that something good is just around the corner. In this case it’s that tight, piston driven unit, Little Engine. They seem just as tight and a little punchier too. It seems that their growing experience has yielded even better songs and this ever present clockwork timing. Their catalogue contains fluid, jazzy, alt.rock; it’s a bit more substantial than indie and with the double quick dubby basslines and bluesy undertones, the whole trip cracks into a series of short, sharp edged numbers. Enjoyable and quite possibly, what an exciting beat combo should really sound like.

Finally THE LEAD BALLOONS are the last band standing. Their janglings merge with a subdued riot of fuzztones and the fleeting vocal of Pierre Hall. The Lead Balloons have proved that they can ably launch more than the odd single and I wish they had the opportunity to do more. Live they tick all the right boxes whilst living a musically lifestyle on stage that certainly didn’t do the Libertines any harm. The bass and drums click into a steady Greenwich Village rhythm whilst the guitars are blown out with a loose limbed abandon. As the set satisfyingly fizzles out in conclusion, I just can’t but wonder why so many bands can’t do what Pierre has achieved here tonight and also on stage. It’s a work rate to shame the best of us and a testament to the fact that there is a better way to change the system, without venting frustration on message boards. Just do this. Just make it happen.

And that ladies and gentlemen is that – disappointingly Tiger Lounge is found to be full of regular clubbers and students – I’m surprised and none of the clubs regular inhabitants are there to make the magic happen.

And then we ended up in a hotel, got wet and I woke up..which takes me all the way back to the beginning of this post ….



JonMM

LEAD BALLOONS + LITTLE ENGINE + KEYSER SOZE
Friends Of Mine @ The Attic, Saturday 22:00

It's 10pm. After a break for refuelling we headed out to The Attic for Friends Of Mine - "doors at 8" (read 9) and there's no sign of a band onstage yet. Wouldn't have bothered me normally but I could've watched four bands elsewhere by now... still, it's probably good to have a sit down and the sofas in there are very comfortable. "Scuse me, is there a saxophone down there?" asks someone. Now I might be tired, but I think I'd have noticed if I was sat on a saxophone...

Eventually a bloke with an acoustic guitar steps up. Doesn't introduce himself even when a couple of people shout "who are ya?", and swears quite a lot between songs. He's got a great tune that's a sort of acoustic garage punk thing (if you can imagine that) about "psychos coming after me" and another with the quite outstanding refrain "Chips peas and gravy don't mean a thing to me"... "Come on you northern bastards with your chips peas and gravy!" he shouts at the end.. He is, I'm later told, Keyser Soze (or at least one of them - the Myspace page is for a full band) and (of course) very northern himself.

Rumour has it Nathan from Frazer King AKA Sista Ray's Tiger Lounge ban involved sandwiches. That's all I'm saying. And no, it's not a euphemism for anything. Actual sandwiches. And now it seems Frazer King won't be taking their billed slot here tonight either. Tony attempted to bring in a can of beer. Another member of the band has also been refused entry for unspecified reasons. Could be a winner - get yourself barred from all your own gigs, instant notoriety and you don't even have to play! We'll try and catch them at Ruby Lounge on Monday if they get through the doors...

Little Engine are yet another bunch of teenagers with talent beyond their years. In their case it comes in the form of trebly guitar spikes like Bloc Party used to dish out before they got too cool, a vocal style that owes something to singer Calserious Haller (or Callum, to his mum)'s early-years love of grunge and an absolutely storming rhythm section of Ben Price on bass and Narottama Bowden on drums. They somehow mix up abrasive post-punk and pop-ska rhythms, sometimes within the same song, without ever sounding less than coherent; on the contrary, the disparate mixture of influences going on here all perfectly crafted into energetic alternative pop tunes that don't really sound like anyone else. This is always a good thing. It's also worth noting (not that it should matter, but everyone in the real world of the murky music industry knows it does) they're a particularly photogenic trio and it's a shame the only official ITC passes to be seen belong to the entire MM team (variable levels of intoxication). We know where it's at.

Fresh from guiding the new students around the musical highlights of our fair city in NME's Student Guide, "promoter, DJ, musician" Pierre Hall's wearing at least two of those hats tonight. Along with a pair of glasses possibly half-inched from TV's Harry Hill. They somehow fit with the fact that The Lead Balloons are one of the indiest indie pop bands of modern times; indie in the old sense, all friendly DIY attitude (uber-scenester reputation aside Hall is possibly one of the nicest people in the local music scene) and glorious, life-affirming, jangly guitar pop. You could be in the shittest mood ever and within a song or two Lead Balloons would have you smiling. I know, cos this isn't the first time it's happened to me. Another song in and you're dancing. I don't know how they do it. If you've not yet had the pleasure, imagine a compact and fizzier Belle And Sebastian, a less angst-ridden early Wedding Present, the sunnier end of The Coral, the two-minute jewels of the C86 scene, that sort of thing. By the time we get outside afterwards it's stopped raining; it's not the first time they've done that, either. In short, the Lead Balloons make the world a happier place.

There are probably more bands to go, here and elsewhere, but it's been a long day and I thik I'll quit while I'm ahead... the rest of Team MM were last seen headed back to Tiger Lounge for more beer, and the absence of postings from them so far has indeed been noted. :-) Wake up lads, ITC proper starts in about half an hour...

http://www.myspace.com/keysersozemanchester
http://www.myspace.com/frazerking
http://www.myspace.com/littleenginemusic
http://www.myspace.com/leadballoons

Cath Aubergine is happy to be back online and headed out in a minute to the Spearhead showcase at Studio, and then whatever... Cath would also like to take this opportunity to plug Air Cav's headline slot (10.30pm) at tonight's Friends Of Mine, now back at regular haunt Joshua Brooks, with supports including labelmate Hayley Faye.

THE DANGEROUS ACES + VAGINA WOLF
FictionNonFiction @ Tiger Lounge, Saturday 17:00

Time to head back to MM's official HQ AKA FictionNonFiction @ Tiger Lounge, because any band called Vagina Wolf has to be seen, really, if only to find out what a band with such a phenomenal name sound like. The answer - at least on the evidence of their first song - is "a bit like Forward Russia." Elsewhere there are echoes of Interpol, Pixies, Pavement even; pretty good anyway. Introducing themselves before their last song they seem almost embarrassed about that name, kind of mumble it a bit. Seemed like a good idea at the time, did it?

Unfortunately Sista Ray And The Jerkin Tears are no longer appearing, due to Sista Ray having been banned from Tiger Lounge. We don't know, and we dread to think...

Dangerous Aces are described on the flyer, possibly by themselves, as "real live drink drank drunk from punks punks". They boast one member who's "not actually in the band... he has heard the songs, though..." and are probably old enough to know better. Yeah, so am I, doesn't stop me... And yep, it's hot-wired old-school punk a la Goldblade, only even faster - although singer Moz doesn't quite (how can I put this politely?) have Mr. Robb's toned physique... he does have one hell of a punk-rock holler on him though, and that's what matters. And guitarist Stu, who's also in fellow FNF regulars The Medicine Bow, does a fine line in speed-riffing. To their credit, at no point does it become apparent exactly which one of them's never played these songs before until the drummer reveals it's him, which makes his powerhouse rhythms and spectacular hardcore fills all the more impressive. It's all about as far away from the polished showcases as you can get - and that's precisely why we come to FictionNonFiction. It keeps us sane.

http://www.myspace.com/vaginaawolf
http://www.myspace.com/thedangerousaces

Cath Aubergine. "Sane" being relative of course.

FictionNonFiction hosts three more evenings of free live music at Tiger Lounge, from 7pm Sun / Mon / Tue. Full listings (subject to any further venue bans!) available on the main ITC website under "Fringe Events".

Right, next stop Zavvi. As a teenager I spent pretty much every Saturday afternoon hanging round record shops, but you never used to get real actual live bands playing in them... young people today, eh, they don't know they're born... :-) Here, it's not just an In The City thing - you can catch live music down here most weekends - but today Same Teens, in association with the enthusiastic team behind Kendal Calling festival, have got a pretty impressive line-up going down...

I am the only person over 30 in the queue.

No, scratch that; I am the only person over 20 in the queue. Oh well...

THE ENDING OF... + THE YOUTH GANG + THE WITCHES
Same Teens @ Zavvi, Saturday 15:00

The Witches played their debut gig as last year's ITC; they've gained a considerable amount of hair since then. Guitarist Karl in particular seems to be in a constant battle against his. More indie-punk these days, they've got some quality tunes, particularly one mid-set that's kind of atmospheric in the verses before ramping up to some filthy guitar abuse. I'd love to tell you what it's called, but I've no idea; Air Cav's Mark Jones is also here on reviewing duty for Revue (www.myspace.com/revuemusic) and goes over to ask the band when they've finished. He returns with the confounding news that actually, none of the songs have titles. They might be winding him up, but I rather hope not...

Next up... haaaang on, didn't I see you, like, two days ago playing demented electro-punk in Dry Bar? Indeed; Nick Delap, the male half of The Youth Gang, is also in Copycats, but this could hardly be more different as he strums intricate Johnny Marr-like chord progressions to accompany the exceptional vocals of Ki Jeal. Fittingly she, too, has a Morrissey-like way with melody; this is high quality acoustic indie from a duo with talent and depth far beyond their tender years.

You've just got to love The Ending Of... Well, I do anyway. Brilliant alternative pop dressed in black and red; spiky verses that explode into great towering choruses full of spiralling guitars. And Ed is just such a fantastic frontman, bouncing about, rolling his eyes and generally looking like a pop star (in a good way). New song "Five Minutes In The Past" is absolutely, utterly brilliant - skewed power-pop with echoes of The Cure, The Killers and latterday Forward Russia. Someone sign this band. Now!

http://www.myspace.com/theyouthgang
http://www.myspace.com/theendingof

Cath Aubergine

Eventually some time on Sunday morning, Cath's home internet service provider decided to reconnect her.... much relief! Saturday had started with a life saving session at Whitworth Park's excellent Get Connected internet place. All up to date by 1pm and delegate registration doesn't open til 2, so it's time for the traditional ITC Night & Day Acoustic Breakfast...

BUTLER-WILLIAMS + JOHN ELLIOTT
Night & Day, Saturday 4th October, 12:30

John Elliott's got the sort of voice that stops you in your tracks. I know Jeff Buckley is one of the most over-used comparisons in the recent history of music writing, but this lad's actually worthy of it. Backed by his rich acoustic guitar plus a female friend on violin (or possibly viola; it's still early and having arrived mid-set most of the rest of it's spent ordering breakfast) it's a lush, beautifully peaceful sound.

Butler-Williams endear themselves to me immediately - by soundchecking a Theremin while I tuck into a massive fry-up. If only every day could start like this... "We didn't think anyone would be here..." I did; I'm pleasantly surprised I got a table. One (OK, two) of the most talked-about names on the local acoustic scene, it's not hard to see why. They have a feel for melody that reminds me of The Go-Betweens' heartfelt indie-folk. Noel Williams not only looks like a friendly wizard but is a fine and versatile guitarist (and it takes a certain talent to be versatile on an acoustic) whilst Chris Butler has a great Badly-Drawn-Boy-goes-busking voice and juggles guitar, theremin and a tiny little glockenspiel. And how many folky types have a song about "getting the shit kicked out of you outside a kebab shop"? Excellent stuff.

http://www.myspace.com/thejohnsound
http://www.myspace.com/chrisbutlernoelwilliams

Time to go and get badged up then. I'm aware this means continuing last year's theme of missing Nomad Jones's set, and feel slightly shit about this, but since we first saw the (then somewhat less) big-haired boy opening some fringe event in 2006 ( http://www.music-dash.co.uk/live/archivelive.asp?item=1038 ) he's done rather well for himself - he's picked up all sorts of acclaim and got an Official Showcase set later in the weekend (Sunday, Chicago Rock Café, ie the old Life Café, 11pm)... remember where you heard about him first...

Remarkably there's not much of a queue - and I know most of the people in it. Yes, Ben Taylor (Bone-box, Vagner Love, TJ Events), Alex McCann (Designer Magazine) and Chris Stanley (ex-Fear Of Music and general face about town) I mean you! The bags are loads better than last year's and they even give you a bottle of vitamin juice - been reading our blogs have you ITCHQ?

Cath Aubergine, zapping the contents of Gadgetphone into the internet...





Whilst we're updating, another report from GED CAMERA has zoomed in - he's been scouring Dry Bar and Night & Day and may have struck a little bit of gold ....



IT’S ALL ABOUT THE MUSIC

In The City

SATURDAY 4th October 2008

As the globules of H2O persistently fall down on the streets of Manchester, rain sodden music lovers seek shelter in the multiple venues that are showcasing new bands as part of the ITC festival. Over at the deliciously seedy TIGER LOUNGE, they have pre-empted the official launch of the festival, and there’s a full day of bands playing including Bradford based SIR YES SIR. This three piece are loud and entertaining, delivering to the extensive crowd, a set of fast ditties that finish as abruptly as they start. They even start a game of “Who had what for tea?”….only at ITC

Over at NIGHT & DAY another trio RAINBOW TROUT are delivering a staple set of more traditional rock and roll numbers

If Puressence ever decided to replace James Mudrinski, there is a ready-made replacement in the form of the vocalist of BAUER. His ethereal tones float over the crowd at DRY BAR, as the band play out a series of easy going numbers, whilst downstairs, TIME FOR CHINA have managed to get the girls dancing along.

The vibrant sounds of the SHALLOW CALL pour forth from the speakers as I spring back into NIGHT & DAY. With A typically skewed Mancunian sense of humour, they can produce observational tales that strike a chord with their townies “I’m a happy drunk/Please don’t throw me out”. Perhaps having musical similarities with another group of Mancunians, the Courteeners, they also manage to drag the crowd from their seats and get them dancing at the front

After all the guitar-based shenanigans, SILVERCLUB take to the stage minus a drummer but with plenty of keyboards & guitars. The drummer is not missed and the electronic outpourings are a welcome digression from what’s gone before. It may be a bit too easy to reference Soft Cell, but I will anyway. They also add a bit of twisted cleverness with their lyrics “I’ve got the answers/but can’t remember the question”….. “Never work with kids, animals or technology” is not one of their lines, but is uttered between songs when some of their kit goes AWOL, but it’s an excellent set anyway

Glasgow based the ERRORS like to keep a low profile behind the banks of keyboards, and the chances are that when you hear the sounds that the conjure up, you will still be none the wiser as to who they are. If Moby can release a LP full of adverts that seep into the conciseness through the use of product placement, then they are in a similar position of having a rake of tunes that will accompany a whole host of adverts or programmes in the near future. New Order dreaded having to come up with lyrics and these fellows dispense with them entirely. Yet they have a repertoire that Delia Derbyshire (Dr. Who theme etc.) would be proud of. Knobs are twiddled, buttons pressed and whilst that may seem boring and unattractive, the resultant noise is anything but. The band leave to rapturous applause. The festival, it seems is up and running


Ged Camera

All the action can be found here:

http://s12.photobucket.com/albums/a215/MMinthecity/

(Aren't USB sticks brilliant!)

........21:00. I have a distinct feeling this won't be my last visit to Piccadilly's premier Mexican fast food establishment of the weekend .......

LOWLINE + MUTINEERS + ALL THE KING'S MEN, Night & Day, Friday 3rd October 21:30.

Over in Night & Day, I suspect All The King's Men might have heard a Libertines record or two. I'm also reminded of that smalltown police chief who barred Doherty and his band from headlining some festival this summer on the grounds that he might "gee up the crowd....They speed up and then slow down the music". Good grief, can't have that! Well, All the King's Men have got the speed-up / slow-down thing off to a T and there's a lively bunch down the front who certainly look "geed up" (although it might just be lager) and seem to know all the words. "Last English Rose" is a right rabble-rouser with their lively singer bouncing about every bit as much as the crowd, the next one shouts about 1976 in a way that suggests there's a few Clash records in their collections too. Especially the drummer, a big hard tattooed man in a vest who powers the whole thing along, dipping into ska rhythms from time to time to get everyone jumping a bit higher. Yep, they're a bit derivative, but they're pretty good at it and they get the adrenaline pumping exactly how you need it at half nine on the Friday of a five-day weekend.

Outside in the street I rapidly acquire the first nutter of the weekend who's desperate to tell me, at some length, about a collective consciousness and good and evil. Argh, back inside then...

On the Friday of ITC07 in this very venue, a chance meeting with Seven, singer with The Cardinals, led to the discovery that they were no more. A year on and he - or rather Nick Mallins, as he's reverted to calling himself - is here onstage with Mutineers, who also incorporate ex-members of Haven, Johnny Marr's Healers and probably some other local stalwarts. They've been together just a matter of months but you really wouldn't know it. And they do sound very much like The Cardinals but that's no bad thing, being very much the best of their alma maters - classic upbeat Northern indie rock full of lovely chiming guitars, flowing melodies and perfectly constructed choruses. Set highlight "Alone In Our Ideas" is very much the descendant of The Cardinals' soaring masterpiece "Hold On", the sort of thing that makes you want to raise your pint / punch the air / sing along, and they've got plenty more where that came from. Mostly they remind me of great lost early 90s band Adorable. Who just happen to be one of my favourite bands ever.

Somewhere down the bill here on that opening night a year ago was a band called Lowlife. Thought they were decent enough, nothing amazing. What a difference one year and one letter can make! Lowline are rightful headliners tonight. The sheer power of this band is something we've noted before; an urgent collision between the dirty fuzz of The Jesus And Mary Chain's "Automatic" era and Chameleons paranoia to create a sound as massive as Glasvegas. And without actually sounding that much like The Official Best Band In Britain This Week, they've got that same thing going on where they unite the indie students and the local working class kids with something that's as fucked up and dark as The Velvet Underground and rammed with passion and black-clothed intensity. And their last song, forthcoming single "Sound Of Music", is an absolute blinder. It just feels like their time is coming, any day now. They might well retain a healthy cynicism about the whole ITC machine, but if this weekend's all about the bands of the near future then the London media who won't get here til the official bars are open just missed one of them. There'll be another chance to catch them at The Purple Pussycat (19A Back Bridge St - yes, we had to look it up, too, but the band have kindly stuck a map on their Myspace front page; it's free entry) at 7.30pm on Monday and we strongly recommend that you do.

http://www.myspace.com/allthekingsmenweb
http://www.myspace.com/mutineersofficial
http://www.myspace.com/thisislowline

Right, time to go out again... time to go and pick up the passes and have a bit more fun on the fringe before the official events kick off. Maybe check out Same Teens' afternoon session at Zavvi (The Ending Of, Witches and The Answering Machine), and whatever else we can find. Team MM will also be making regular visits to our official ITC HQ of FictionNonFiction at Tiger Lounge throughout the weekend - this afternoon there's a band called Vagina Wolf at 4.40pm about whom we know nothing at all but can't wait to find out, followed by cross-dressing Wythenshawe psychedelic soul crew Sista Ray And The Jerkin Tears at 5.20. Again, check the MM message board for full timings and line-ups; highlights for the rest of the weekend include the deranged Dave Rybka And The Victorian Dad Band (Sunday, 8.30), the twin-bass-engined rock'n'roll of The Vipers (Sunday, 10.40); the indescribably brilliant GNOD (Monday, 10pm) and two-man noisefest Apes Fight Back (Tuesday, 8pm).

Cath Aubergine, courtesy of Get Connected internet station, Whitworth Park. Tiscali Home Internet will burn in hell for this...

Good morning, Cath here... Another year, another ITC and once again ManchesterMusic is going to attempt to keep up with everything that's going on. Unfortunately my home internet service provider has picked the worst possible weekend to have a "temporary fault", so my bits are brought to you via a bewildering combination of phone, USB stick and internet cafe, so if you see me out and about please buy me a drink, I'll probably need it. This has also made planning a little on the difficult side. Fingers crossed it's back soon, but I'm not exactly hopeful. (And I've got a really bad cold.) Anyway, without further ado, welcome to ITC 2008!

KNI9HTS, Nuclear @ Joe's Bar, Friday 3rd October 20:00.

....And we're off! OK, so In The City doesn't actually start til Sunday, but it's Friday night and the fringe events are up and running. Ish. Nothing has ever knowingly run on time in the history of Joe's Bar so we're not massively bothered that we've missed Kni9hts' stage time, and, yes, they're half an hour behind from the off. Good. This is Nuclear, a fringe event dedicated to the best of the underground local unsigned scene. Over the next three evenings there'll be sets from El Policia and Tom Kerswill along with a host of new names - check the ITC page on the MM message board for full listings - and first off the blocks are North Manchester's Kni9hts.

Kni9hts have always refused to conform to any scenes, rules or fashions and concentrated instead on making absolutely brilliant tunes. Tunes which recall The Charlatans' way with a leftfield pop melody and The Chameleons' sense of the atmospheric, with Carlo's voice floating over rich Rickenbacker guitar lines and warm keyboards. It's the dynamics, the spot-on balance that makes this such a great sound - you'd be convinced there was a second guitar in there if you couldn't see there definitely wasn't. Some of these tunes, such as the downbeat "Coastal" and the near-epic "Jolan District" (it's a part of Fallujah devastated by years of war and unrest - so not your average indie band subject matter then) have been around their set for a few years now and you wonder why more people aren't listening, whilst "Shadow Of The Beast" is, despite its title, wonderfully life-affirming guitar pop. Elsewhere they've got that classic North Western post-punk thing going on, all hammered toms and sweeping guitar lines that sound like dark clouds over the moors and make the hairs on the back of the neck tingle. Sometimes it's easy to take local bands for granted, to forget just how bloody good they are. A great start to the weekend.

http://www.myspace.com/kni9hts

Last year, In The City was still suffering something of an aftershock after the late great Anthony H Wilson's death. ITC08 therefore is something of a monument to the man who so gloriously championed Mancunian Music.

This year’s event builds on that legacy and it must surely be as a direct result of Wilson’s strategy (if he had one – he would most probably have shirked at the idea) and his dedication to Britain’s only major industry conference, that it seems yet even bigger and brighter.

The whole event has been brought forward to early October (although rain is almost certainly guaranteed) and officially runs from the Sunday (5th) to the Tuesday (7th). Those in the know will fully realise that Manchester has never been one to avoid a party, hence celebrations, gigs and promotions have effectively begun, like a kid too excited for Xmas, today (Thurs).

As ever, I’ll be checking out the official and unsigned showcases as will Cath, with a particularly well trained eye and ear on the very best of what’s going on at the all important fringe events.

Whilst there are a few unofficial events lining up, with a collective turnover of music personnel the size of the Somme body count, our best advice – from experience - is that you need to look a little harder. Search out the stuff going on in dark corners or hideaway venues – so check out Islington Mill, Tiger Lounge, Retro Bar, Bayhorse and places like that for something truly original and different promoted by like minded people (or artists themselves).

Night & Day, Roadhouse and Ruby Lounge have been the lifeblood of us here at ManchesterMusic and they are what make this music scene tick – reliable, innovative, professional and with better A&R than anyone else we know (apart from us of course..) , so that’s another essential stop off for you.

On the folky side, check out if Humblesoul or Timbreland have any of their acts playing and you’ll certainly stumble across some of the best genre defining acts in Manchester.

The most exciting thing about ITC though is the spontaneity. Last year my gig plan ended up in tatters on the floor of the hotel as we played last man standing in the Midland’s foyer – we won – 4.40am..it’s not big and it’s not clever.

Marvellous things happen along the way too, like seeing The Courteeners in a little bar, head banging to The Darkness in a pub, watching the Wombats in a cellar venue alongside 60 mad scousers or tripping along to see Vampire Weekend on the their debut UK tour along with 25 other bemused on-lookers....it’s all true and literally just about anything can happen.

Tips this year - well, let's go for ROCK and you should look for TO THE BONES and the superb EL CONDOREZ ..


I hope you all enjoy it as much as we do, as well as see the benefits it never fails to deliver each and every year, for both music in general and of course, Manchester. European City of Culture…



Jon
ed-MM

Labels: city life, designer magazine, In the city manchester music, manchestermusic

So, I’d just about dragged by weary body through a day in the office, when five thirty rolled around and I skipped to Bedlam with a sprightly step. Or not. The fact that the venue was decked out like a padded cell was most welcome, as I slumped my aching bones against the wall. Desperately needing to be hooked up to a drip of gabber house or something of similar bpm, I was initially a little concerned to find that the first act of the night would be of the acoustic variety, but Paul Marshall was no lobotomised Newton Faulkner.

For a start, he looked like the younger brother of David Walliams, and opened his set with a song that could cause a troupe of Royal Marines to break down in howling sobs. Marshall made music about extinction and train derailments to soundtrack the funeral of a loved one. A loved one who died a tragic and painful death at a heart-breakingly early age. Do not be misled into thinking his songs were anything other than sheer brilliance though. Starkly beautiful, they commanded silence and his clever use of pauses provided a real sense of emotion. ‘Vultures’ had the vulnerability of Nick Drake with the bigger vocal power of someone like Damien Rice, and although such a communicative voice made it was easy to overlook his skill as a guitarist, the man was definitely the whole package. A further pleasant surprise was the appearance of Bottomfeeder Kate on cello; clearly pimping her own considerable talents far and wide.

Next up was Amy Crowther, who looked like a T4 presenter and came about as close as possible to Katie Melua without any mis-informed lyrics about transportation statistics in developing countries. Becoming quickly bored, a flick through the live guide revealed an Icelandic showcase down the road at The Pitcher & Piano…

…which had been cancelled. Most of the interesting bands had been given spots at alternative venues but, oh… they were on two hours ago… Slightly pissed off, another dive into the live guide offered Godwits, who apparently “demonstrate a beguiling sense of melody and structure, with an intelligence, grace and wit that is beyond their years.” All very well medear, but what do the buggers actually sound like? They’ve the best band name within a three minute walk though, so it was back down Peter Street to Squares, which smelled like it needed a good hose down.

In Squares’ cavernous basement, The Jubilees were just starting up, having travelled from Lincolnshire for the night. They attracted the kind of minimal audience numbers that made me think that I was missing something amazing elsewhere. Had everyone left to see the secret Blur reunion gig at Bar 38, or had news of a Legionnaires Disease outbreak reached the press, I wonder? Whichever, this was clearly not going to be The Jubilees’ big break, although they played their little socks off anyway, bless ‘em. A generic indie-rock band, the only thing to distinguish them from hotly-tipped acts like The Courteeners or Twisted Wheel was the absence of any arrogant swaggering. They played well, and moreover, they played well together, with ‘Frustration’ inexplicably managing to sound exactly like all the others and yet, much better than the others. The Jubilees had melody in spades, and the lack of an attitude problem endeared them to me, even if it will be their downfall as a “marketable commodity”. Shame really.

Now, if you look at the MM photobucket account, you will see that my picture of Godwits features a man with his fingers in his ears. I had not noticed him at the time, having been so utterly carried away by the swathes of angelic noise created by this absolute gem of a band from Newbury. Never have I been so glad to find proggy Icelandic experimentalism cancelled. A young band who dress like an old band (and here I mean The Zimmers, rather than The Stones), Godwits made a similar gypsy psyche-rock noise to Air Cav, but with a vocalist who was wonderfully unclassifiable. He made the sound of a barbershop quartet featuring Win Butler, Bono, the dude from Cold War Kids and, erm, Aled Jones, all at the same time, and he maintained the onstage presence of a Mr Thom Yorke. Bloody captivating. Like Air Cav, it was often the drums and twisting violin that led the melodies, but during ‘Dead Heads Of Flowers’ they was a quite stunning choirboy moment. Maps do gigs in churches, but Godwits managed to make Squares feel like one. I left the venue having spent Tuesday’s dinner money on a CD and knowing that even if the bigwig delegates ignore their brilliance, Godwits had gained a new super-fan. Also, if anyone recognises the heathen with his fingers in his ears from my photo, tell him I want a word…

Floating somewhere about three feet from the pavement from then on, I glided down to the Studio in a spaced-out state of fatigue and musical nirvana in order to catch the last couple of tunes from Liverpool’s Elle S’Appelle. A female-fronted three-piece, they created edgy, upbeat pop; acceptable to indie kids, ravers and the Radio 1 playlist alike. Give them a support slot with Calvin Harris and they’ll never look back, but with each song swapping beats around every other nanosecond, I got the impression that Elle S’Appelle wouldn’t know how to look backwards even if they had those funny revolving reptile eyes. Insanely catchy Bis-inspired bubblegum yelling did exactly what it said on the tin, alongside a keyboard lick so infectious that I couldn’t quite believe it hadn’t already been invented by a Sixties girl group. Perky madness for the Kate Nash generation, and were I not still floating around in a little bubble of Godwits adoration, I may have busted a move or two.

As I walked to the bus stop, Friday night at Islington Mill felt like several decades ago, and to be fair, I think this year’s In The City has aged me considerably. Highlights had been folk-rockers in tank tops and classic rock throwbacks in the suburbs, whereas I had remained resolutely unimpressed by angry young whippersnappers and experimentalists with head-torches.

I definitely needed to lie down in a dark room for a few days… Or weeks…

Meg MM.

Monday starts where Sunday ended, in South, which is alternating English and Japanese (or at least Japanese-ish) bands. How's My Pop are about as English as can be, in the grand tradition of Northern observational indie, with a distinct feel of Pulp meets Oasis - yeah, I know, there's a lot of it about - but these Lancaster lads do it very well indeed. A rich organ lifts them above the legions of guitars-are-all bands, and some thought's gone into the lyrics too. The last song takes on the state of the nation from the point of view of Anytown on a Saturday night (a bold move for ones so young) and does a pretty fine job of it, variously referencing Davina McCall, "bloodstains on the English flag", people doing crack in public toilets and "a culture where there is no fucking culture" - at which point I remember I'm meant to be going out in Lancaster in a couple of days' time. Thought it was meant to be nice up there... and no, it's not startlingly original musically but the answer to "how's my pop" has to be... pretty good, actually.

Levelload like yellow. Their website is yellow, their clothes are yellow, the streaks in singer/bassist Mariko's hair are yellow. She and not-remotely-Japanese guitarist Tony are both extremely attractive, skinny as a pair of drumsticks and oozing rock'n'roll cool from their black drainpipe jeans to their battered yellow T-shirts. Their instruments are slung Clash-style low round their hips and played with relentless energy. They are so straight out of some scenester Svengali's fantasy list that you really wish you could hate them, except for the fact that they're absolutely brilliant as well. Behind this undoubtedly dynamic duo, however, stands another figure; a small, quiet Japanese woman wearing a housewife dress (that's not yellow) and Clint Boon's 1989 haircut and working the electronics that provides the foundations for this mostrous pop beast. Is she in the band? Or did they just find her somewhere and carry her along for the ride? Either way, Levelload play dirty, garagey, electro-backed punk-metal rock'n'roll with a big dollop of pop splattered across it. Tony squiggles solos through a great wall of distortion whilst Mariko hammers out powerchords in the most aggressive use of four strings since Motorhead's last tour; both have a tendency to stick a scuffed sneaker up on the monitors, and yelp like Bis with their arse on fire. Their new single is called "HND In Rock'n'nRoll". I suspect they passed with flying colours - yellow, probably.

Feeling rather international, I head over to the Pitcher And Piano to discover that the Icelandic showcase has been moved to (a) somewhere else and (b) considerably later. Wander into Studio to find it absolutely rammed; onstage are Airship ("late teen Manchester alternative rock band" says the blurb) who sound rather a lot like... Snow Patrol. They either have a lot of friends or a very good PR. They are, it has to be said, extremely accomplished and they do grunge it up a bit towards the end - but alternative it certainly isn't. Later discover they have been brought to us courtesy of one Martin Terefe, part of the axis of evil behind KT Tunstall and James Morrison. Sounds about right.

Far more interesting, across the road in Bar38, is Joe Dangerous ("believe it or not" as he says). A rather polite youngman in a crisp white shirt, armed with a laptop and a small keyboard (the latter hanging round his neck) he deals in spacious, atmospheric electronica. Including songs about allergies, "my prayer for the end of all religion" and "a deep hatred of Portsmouth". The music is icy, sweeping and equally introspective. File under "possibly doesn't get out much". This is not, incidentally, meant in any bad way. If Meg was here we'd probably have tried to adopt him or something.

Boom In The Diamond Industry have probably the best - or worst - name of the day and describe their music as "post-past" - sounds intriguing? It isn't. It's the sort of bogstandard indie schmindie for which there really should be some sort of quota. There are a lot of people watching them, but they comprise (a) three friends/fans (b) people who've come to worship at the altar of Gideon Conn who's making his 275th appearance of the weekend here later or (c) people like me who've given up on having any kind of plan by this point. Oh, and six people in a band like this looks a bit wrong, too.

In my haste to get out the door I crash headlong into Crosby from The Second Floor, so obviously I get my investigative head on: yes, they stil exist; it's just him and Nolan Watkinson and a drum machine now (I don't dig, I've learnt the hard way not to...) and yes they will still be playing the Aftershow at Sankeys on 29th November with Air Cav. Which, incidentally, is Chris Cav's birthday, so, er, book the Friday off now. I also run into Chris Stanley, recently departed drummer of Fear Of Music, for about the 37th time this weekend - and just in case you were wondering there's nodirt at all on that count - he's still mates with Joe, Ali and Mike; they've got a new drummer now, and the album's recorded and ready to launch. Oh, and as this seems to be turning into some Mancunian underworld version of Popbitch, my spies (AKA Julie and Sui from The Vanguard) report that Mark E. Smith was spotted drinking in the Castle earlier...

Anyway, finally, the Icelandic Showcase is go, in the rather-more-pleasant-than-I-remember-it Cellar Vie. We are slightly distracted by the sight of a man with a long, bleached mullet waring gold Spandex "strides" so sausage-skin tight we can practically see what he had for dinner. And then another one, and another... christ, how many of them are there? Must be one of the bands. "We were going to go to Reykjavik in January" says my mate "but I'm not so sure now..."

The first band on, Kira Kira, sound exactly as you would expect an "experimental" Icelandic band to sound. Tonight's "table full of interesting stuff" award, anyway, for anyone still following that particular thread of these meanderings. Actually there are some proper instruments too; a double-bass, glockenspiel and guitar - all played so delicately it's a bit like listening to cobwebs. Very pretty cobwebs, that is - melodic with understated yet evocative vocals from Kristín Björk Kristjánsdóttir who's also in charge of the table of interesting stuff. I am trying not to use the word "ethereal" but - ah, fuck it, there it goes.

The Spandex brigade are onstage next and something tells me I won't be needing the word "ethereal" again in a hurry. They are Skátar - or possibly SKATAAARRR!!! - and they are Ready To Rock. Unfortunately nothing else is. the soundchecks and lineckhecks are not going well and they just have to stand there looking silly. The singer (Sawyer from "Lost") attempts some very polite conversation - "Can you please all come a little closer? We find when people get closer they get better views of our crotches, and other areas." I didn't make this up. I have witnesses. The sound engineer continues crawling around their equipment - and their musical instruments (badum-tsssh!).

So what of the music? Well I'll hand over to them - or at least their exceptionally funny Myspace page (this isn't even the best of it, do ensure if you click one link today it's that one...): "Picture driving to the country with your younger siblings, ten and twelve, respectably, and putting in a random CD out of the glove compartment. Imagine their plainly terrified faces as a hair raising attack of PUREÉD WHITE NOISE SKRONK DEATH blasts at ‘em from the car speakers. Imagine ignoring their pleas (as a good older sibling will do), driving on, and them starting to sing along to that very album, in a manner of minutes. This is The Ghost of the Bollocks to Come, and this is Skátar. Let’s dance."

Oh god. Right, well when they eventually get started it's an utterly impenetrable mess of bizarre Sonic Youthisms, funky chunky bass bits, and full-on RAWK! choruses (sample lyric: "I AM NOT READY TO DIIIIEEE!"). the small crowd (including one John Robb - possibly hoping for the next Towers of London) mostly look bemused. It's hard to tell exactly where thet're pitching. "Can I have some more chocolate in the monitors... and a Harrier Jet?" Frankly they make a far better comedy troupe than rock'n'roll band. And I think they know it. But do check the Photobucket; words can't do these men justice...

It's a fittingly strange finale to what's been a bit of a strange ITC all round, really. I'm not the only person who's said this - it all seemed a bit more low-key than usual this year. Maybe we just weren't in the right places. But ther have been some excellent performances: the four that stand out for me being (in no particular order) The Witch And The Robot, Thomas Truax, Air Cav and Does It Offend You, Yeah?. I've not discovered any new favourite bands, but to be honest I don't actually need any more right now. I just want to go to bed.

http://www.myspace.com/howsmypop
http://www.myspace.com/levelload
http://www.myspace.com/airshiptheband
http://www.myspace.com/joedangerous
http://www.myspace.com/boominthediamondindustry
http://www.myspace.com/trallaladykirakira
http://www.myspace.com/skatar

Normally at this point it falls to me to wrap up the MM ITC coverage with some sort of sweeping platitudes about the state of the weekend, Manchester, or the music industry in general - but time's short. Because for some of us, the music carries on long after the passes have been hung up and the posters taken down. My favourite live club night Wotgodforgot chose not to dirty their fingers in this corporate jamwagon (although promoter Ciaran's band Laymar played twice at suitably out-there fringe events) - instead they've got a session tonight. There are two bands on I've not seen before who sound quite good. Somewhere, right now, some overpaid idiot is leafing through the guide book trying to remember the name of one of the bands they saw through a drunken haze so they can file some sort of copy or impress the A&R boss at their debrief meeting - for us at ManchesterMusic.co.uk life goes on as usual, squidged into the gaps between day jobs, home life (well, in Jon's case anyway; I rarely seem to see the inside of my flat these days) and our own favourite bands. We don't do this to be cool, we don't do it for money, we do it because we absolutely fucking love it.

Same time next year then?

Cath Aubergine, signing off.

You know – it’s a bit weird that it’s almost over. It seems to have been a little quieter this year. Not as many buzz bands perhaps and I really think Night & Day (the whole weekend) and Country Club (at Ruby Lounge) maybe stole the fringe weekend. The stack ‘em high / dubious quality control of some of the other showcases made them the ones to miss this year and Dry Bar maybe needs some sort of re-invention as it’s just too damn claustrophobic and there are just too many dubious bands in-between the good ones.

What is refreshing though is that down Oxford Road / Peter Street, there are still plenty of laminates walking up and down the town, although Manchester is eerily still on this Monday evening. At least it hasn’t rained all weekend though.

Peter Street though is still disgusting. A thug infested ginnel of glitter, where guys who look they’ve just finished a prison sentence try to make it past giant beasts on the pub doors themselves reminiscent of tough mutated screws at lock down. It’s a fucked up piece of shit that’s pretending to be an upmarket slice of city living. If you don’t lose your wallet on the bar prices, you’re probably just as likely to lose it on the way home, as you cross the dimly lit and suspiciously un-policed slice of barter town that is St Peter’s Square. At least the Northern Quarter has it’s own set of excuses and is becoming comfortably trendy (although that’s not always a good thing).

It’s amazing that the Midland Hotel stands as a beacon in this crossroads of shit and capitalism, where Teasers marks the beginning of this culturally barren wasteland and M2 provides a sensory finish with its back streets littered with sick and aggressive beggars. If anyone ever tells you that you can have a good time down here, they’re fucking nuts.

Unbelievably, MUSIC BOX is at the more sanitised end of this evil run and the almost derelict basement is vibrating to the sound of KIDKANEVIL. There’s a few people on stage but this is essentially the work of Leeds DJ Gerrad Roberts, who scratches, mixes and triggers various samples and loops. It is accomplished stuff with some live percussion, a flautist and plenty of eastern promise. It does begin to get a little bit too jazzy though and the whole thing soon melts into a swirling flow of lounge based music.

Down at BEDLAM (where we avoid purchasing ANYTHING), the place is packed for the incredibly noisy OLD ROMANTIC KILLER BAND who hammer out punk fuelled chords and enough decibels to mask the landing approach of a 747.

Arcacia are performing at CHICAGO ROCK which also hosted an earlier ITC UNSIGNED and now, an ITC SHOWCASE. It’s a bit confusing but the sound of ARCACIA isn’t. It’s an embarrassing mêlée of uneventful heavy rock that’s further ruined by a guy who can’t sing and who thinks he’s headlining Wembley Stadium. Ouch. Should have saved the bus fare – no disrespect but this is well below par on all counts.

On the very same stage we then have THE MARGARETS – a confident outfit from Norway who I said nice things about on Saturday. Tonight though they’re all electric and their subtle harmonies and sweet Nordic reflections sit well (there’s a video running as they play , featuring them and some pretty homeland scenery). They’re pretty good too, but far more impressive when they strip things down and rely on their delicious harmonies.

Downstairs in STUDIO it’s still OFFICIAL UNSIGNED time and it’s totally rammed. The bars run out of beer with just Cider or Alcopops left - which is what this place most probably sells the most of, anyway. The crowd seem mainly here to see ELLE S’APPELLE (or “She Is Called”) – the name’s a bit random really, but musically this is Lucy on a vocals / keyboard and Andrew on Bass (and a bit of singing) whilst Owen bashes the drums. The fact that she dresses like Kate Nash doesn’t help as she tinkles on the fuzztone keyboard, but Elle s’appelle have a sound that can drag out any remaining ounces of attention. They have a few nuggets in there and the band have at least carefully constructed something that’s exciting and more importantly, different.

FREERUNNER are from Newcastle. “Ask us to say something in Geordie whilst we’re here” shouts the singer – one fellow I’m with shouts “P.J. ! I’m Blind !!” – and just like Byker Grove, there and then, it comes echoing back.. Freerunner are most probably mining the same territory as The Wombats, but whereas their Liverpudlian counterparts are brimming with pop genius, this trio are struggling a little. But then they surprise they hit you with a precious slice of angsty yelping that you could soundtrack your haircut to. It’s compelling if you want to stick to the current fashions.

Finally in the pit of despair, SQUARES, the last band for me is THE ALONES. They’re playing downstairs with a ridiculously big P.A. and the sound is awful. The drums, vocals and bass drown out the guitars and you end up with a headache. It almost ruins things for me. The Alones are urgent but it does at times sound like STEREPHONICS playing some of their faster back catalogue. There are a lot of people to see them and you see that with bands like The Enemy creating a healthy diversion away from jerky, snappy guitars, that this band too are cottoning on to something altogether better.

I also can’t believe that the same idiot as last year (at the time, manager of ‘insert name of Geordie indie band’) is stood in front of me in the same spot and same venue, with another pair of stupid shoes. He’s topped last years joke footwear with some Burgundy / White two-tone brogues topped off by a big overcoat – hello !!!

Anyhow on a brighter note it has to be The Alones and Elle s’appelle who stand out tonight for sheer energy, originality and guts – good luck to ‘em..

And good luck to everyone who organised, played, attended or just recognised the In The City carnival – it’s been awesome, tiring, exciting and exhausting but most of all it’s been an education..sleep well my friends.

JonMM

Fri Feelings

THE RESEARCH / MR. LIZARD / DEAF TO THE GHOST / LOWLIFE

Having appeared in Dundee the night before, THE RESEARCH (Dry bar) are just glad to see a crowd. Similarly, this crowd at Dry bar are glad to see the Research. Front man Russell Searle has been leading the trio around for some time now, and the simple Casio keyboard generated tunes have evolved into a sound more suited for a stage rather than someone’s bedroom. It’s all done in a warm, friendly manner, the band maintaining an admirable bonhomie with the crowd pressed up against the stage that are clearly enjoying the sugar coated pop

Band, bands and more bands are swamping the venues of Manchester and it’s a great thing. Literally bringing live music to the masses, so it’s intriguing to watch clubbers waiting to hear their “top tune” bound out from the speakers, then wonder what on earth is going on? So whilst MR LIZARD blast out aggressive guitars sounds that bounce of the low ceiling, the regulars at THE RUBY LOUNGE aren’t quite sure what to make of things. Should they keep playing pool or move closer to the entertainment? It’s a bit of a mix in the end

That musical nomad, Coni (Tsuji Giri, Kyra Bronx etc.) has returned to beat the crap out of a set of skins with a new band, DEAF TO THE GHOST (Ruby Lounge). He’s not the stand out element of the band though – that’s the (un-named) female vocalist who has a voice of purity and power that could crack glass – not always a good thing for a bar, but certainly impressive stuff

LOWLIFE have a packed Night and Day to entertain and its all gusto and guitars, powerfully executed and one place where you are guaranteed to drive the audiences into a sweat

Sunday Sessions

BITTERLY IRONIC / DELUCA/NEIL McSWEENEY / TELLISON/LUCA GEMMA / LIGHTS! ACTION! / DEAR SUPERSTAR/VIRGIN MARY’S/

I know it’s early-ish, the Sunday after the free bar but the crowd at Aqua Bar for the POW-WOW all dayer is disappointingly slim. Less than 10 people are hear to see the female fronted DELUCA dish out their brand of American tinged rock hewn out of the Pat Benetar mould. In an adjacent room, the one man plus banks of keyboards that is known as BITTERLY IRONIC is performing mainly in front of a handful of friends/converts. The daylight streaming through the windows mixes incongruously with the biting beats, which are more reminiscent of some underground rave somewhere. He can produce the threatening accompaniment for the victim/killer-pursuit-in-a-thriller movie, before pummelling you with dance beats

The low turn out seems to be something repeated across most of the venues. Sure, NEIL MCSWEENEY is dispensing his heartfelt songs of watching clouds, to a full Trof Bar, the place of many rooms but no toilet cubicles, but many of those present would appear to be there because they normally would be in any case, as opposed to making a deliberate attempt to view the evenings lineout.

TELLISION (Studio) seem to buck the trend as the place is relatively full, but the way the crowd sing along and know the stop-start parts, it’s clear they have prior experience of the band. The tight unit provide a Foo Fighters type roar, and the front man connects well with the crowd, but where are the diehards who dip their toes into as many new bands as possible on the basis that they may hit a beautiful surprise such a last years SIBERIAN NEWSPAPER? It may have occurred and I missed it. I hope so ..

LUCA GEMMA (Chicago Rock) similarly has a handful of listeners, but he does sing in his native, non-English– language, though his fellow compatriots applaud loudly

The Sunday service for the VIRGIN MARY’S (WALKABOUT) does not include religious values, but is tribute to good old-fashioned, no nonsense rock. The guitar solos dance up and down the fret board; the vocals are gravelly and direct with the hair long and swung about. It’s a mountain shuddering effect, the reliable meat and two veg of rock delivered with gusto and style.

In a similar vein DEAR SUPERSTAR (Dry), have – at least I hope they do- one tongue firmly embedded in their cheek. Glam rock is still alive in “From Lamppost To Bedposts”. The 5 of them can just about fit on the narrow stage and their histrionics seem to scare the crowd who watch from a safe distance. Their outfits are outrageous and the tee shirts are replete with the Iron Cross motif.

In the time it takes to say “LIGHTS! ACTION!” (Walkabout) the 5 piece explode on the stage with their fulsome sound. It’s fun watching which of the guitarists will collide with each other, so much so that one of them turns and faces the wall. This is Simple Minds stuff on speed, the urging, the pleading and the wall of (guitar) sound in place.

As the LUCIOS (Dry bar) began to sound check, I feared the worst. Was that an Oasis turn being strummed? Luckily this group of lads hail from Middlesbrough , so the Oasis phenomenon may not have reached there yet. Instead, the more palatable news is that they tell stories a la Artic's, tinged with Babyshambles, and it’s a raucous mix that gets everyone moving.

Similarly, the ALLIES provide a change from the usual guitar fare. Featuring a fiddle and accordion, the genial Brummies boys launch into a rousing Celtic style slab of music. Debts to the Pogues and the Waterboy's may be obvious, but it’s enjoyable none the less.



Till next year

Ged Camera
www.camera1.free-online.co.uk

Even with the best of intentions, Saturday night got rather messy – a sort of “hard day at the office” (but more like wandering around bars listening to music after being stuck in a seminar all day) - followed by a caffeine fuelled burst of excitement that meant I couldn’t wind down at all after ducking and diving between venues. So Sunday, of course a holy day for many, should on the face of it be at least a little more relaxing. Wrong.

Today sees a Northern Quarter Festival – I don’t say THE NQF as there have been a few in the past with this name and there are few others going on too during the year as various ‘promoters’ and ‘entrepreneurs’ try to lay claim to this now trendy mini- Manhattan. Word is (and I’d love to be informed / corrected) that TV21 have underwritten a lot of this and if they have it’s to their credit. Over the evening there are around thirty bands over eight venues and it’s all free. Each place is also just over the road from the other – In The City ‘Official’ should be here next year, not that stupid chav strip that is Peter Street. It’s just an ugly horrible street full of vile venues.

SAY is performing at the BAY HORSE and the trio are championing their album “Autumn Burrows” which is available now via them and which may be also out on a well respected local label too. They still use wonderfully programmed electronics and acoustic instruments, that bath the basement of this trendy bar in a warm, generous light of melody and creativity. Word is that the band may be expanding to an even bigger line up.

MM are obvious fans of Laymar but I personally haven’t seen them play for well over a year and it’s big reason number two as to why we’re here. In fact we were so eager to attend that I got the dates mixed up and we actually came along on Friday by mistake. Stark visuals and a band dressed in black may be warning enough but it’ll never prepare you for the sonic bombing that lays a carpet of blood soaked sounds between your ears. Think ethereal but with nuclear triggers. Laymar’s brooding, progressive rock combines live loops and samples, shuddering guitars and live drums that pound away like a distant jungle telegraph warning of impending doom. The whole thing is an orchestrated symphony that embraces spontaneity and some sort of beautiful turmoil. Apparently they’re playing at Ruby Lounge later for a 2am show. Be afraid. Read Cath's review of this - I was awestruck and she's captured the wholething far better than I.

In-between sets a mad Geordie bloke somehow, for some reason, comes up to me. “I’m from Newcastle like..I want to get some drugs and get fucked..”. He’s already fucked – he looks like Chris Moyles and has eyes like balloons that don’t blink, as he then flops his rather large head to one side. We see him later doing a Riverdance skip because he thinks he looks cool. I hope he’s ok…or well, I’m not sure now - he was bloody dangerous and probably ready to explode in some innocent persons face, the bloody freak. Listen kids , drugs ARE bad.

In both remembrance and celebration, of the might of one of the best bands in Manchester, DOUBLEJO(H)NGREY bow out on a greatest hits package of electronic versus guitar based assaults. The room is packed for the bands twisted guitar riffs, plunging bass lines and the stark, sometimes growling vocal. There’s a track even I don’t remember in there too, but for most of us it takes us back to the original music/art collective that was Minus Money – most band members have other projects up their sleeves so keep watching for news – for now, it’s the end of an era.

KING KAYAK are on at BLU, maybe this area’s grossest bar – an open, sports type establishment that seems less than inviting. The stage seems out of place and it looks like a p.a.’s just been stuffed in a fun pub. The sound though is actually good and the band rise to the occasion with their stripey shirts and eyeliner. They create anthemic, rousing songs that aren’t afraid to go off on a guitar solo or for the keyboard to add a bit of a jerky swing. The energy levels are potent enough to carry their supercharged efforts beyond the gaze of The Levellers and Mega City Four. King Kayak seem to be a potent hybrid of both old skool psychobilly (the attitude) and sci-fi heavy rock (their dominating, feverish sound) .

Over at TV21 (if you can get past the Predator that’s in a glass case near the door) the basement has an intimate show in full swing with rap duo MM2. The music is a backing track over which a guy who makes himself look like a hatted Stone Roses Reni, furiously hammers out a lively heavy funk bassline. The MC quickfires the lyrics out and it’s powerful, hard hitting stuff. The only problem is that the mix is awful and you can only hear the backing track – You can hardly make out the bass. The rapping is also so fast that it’s indigestible so you can’t get what the whole lyric is about – which sort of defeats the object. Interesting though and I’m definitely going to seek out their tunes for a better listen, purely on the basis of the amount of sweat they released into the atmopshere .

It’s meant to be a quieter night but it’s too hard to resist popping into NIGHT & DAY. THE RASCALS are on next. For anoraks this IS NOT the soul / rock band from the 60’s. For those with a memory that does go back three years, this outfit have formed out of The Little Flames - the scouse outfit that started off their career with ‘Put Your Dukes Up, John’. That’s history but the news is that Miles Kane’s friendship with Alex Turner sees the Monkey’s singer just stood in front of me at the bar. You can see the difference too, in Kane’s new project that’s been collaboratively supported by Turner. The Rascals are more Yorkshire than Lancs and much less Liverpudlian in their sound. Spiky angular pop that sounds contemporary and enthusiastic. There’s enough of a tune in each track here to keep even the meanest of indie kids happy for a few hours dancing, but I think the real proof will be in the actual record itself which should surface next year.

Then it’s quite literally….home..

JA