Egyptian Hip Hop: Gullivers Midnight

Bob Dylan stares down from the wall of Gullivers. One of his lyrics strikes out at me: "The lampost stands with folded arms, it's iron claws attatched". It seems to sum up a lot of the crowd stood here, stoney faced, stern & ready to strike if you breach their aura. Evidently they've been drawn here by the buzz & the NME references, a chance to display their peacock feathers. Now I have no issue with cool, people who tug on the zeitgeist with a genuine love for what they follow. But I don't get that impression tonight. I see a beauty pagent, catwalked across the faded carpet of Gullivers. I know I keep reiterating this point time and time again but it keeps on irritating me. It isn't someone approaching their 30s being grumpy. It is someone who loves music and honesty being continually peturbed by the profound stupidity of so many people. What was the Bloc Party lyric? "There was a sense of disappointment as we left the mall / All the young people looked the same"

Anyway, Egyptian Hip Hop...what are they? Fundamentally, they are a very good, well structured, intriguing band. They explore a wire-strung journey through dub, groove & Scare Reggae in a way that coagulates into an eminently listenable, quixotic & pleasurable blend of sound. However, there is one thing they ultimately lack. And that is A-Calibre songs. Good sound and arrangements are one thing. But songs....SONGS form the cornerstone of any band. And beneath the sheen of publicity, the coiffure-crowd & the admittedly acomplished playing, they only have one or two songs that genuinely fire the pyre. They deserve their welcome, their rolled carpet. But as a long-term project, I'm unsure of whether, to quote one of the city's immortals, they are "etched in stone or just scratched in the sound". Time will tell, time will guide. I'm still walking and waiting for something to make me believe in the neon scriptures.

Outside, a fine rain is falling. I head back towards The Ruby Lounge and find myself in conversation with Catherine AD and her entourage (by this time, I have discovered that her EP contains a cover of The Magnetic Fields "The Book of Love". I am officially besotted). What then follows is a bizarre interlude where, as a native of Manchester, I find myself placed into the role of "Kebab Man", taking it upon myself to lead this bunch of musicians and artists to the nearest takeaway. So off I dance along High Street with Catherine and her group behind me, like a pied piper in a crush-velvet smoking jacket. I find them a good takeaway, we order pizzas, we have a nice chat and then I leave them to it. It's a suitably surreal way to end the evening but a seemingly fitting one. I'm discovering that In The City is less a collection of random bands and more of a true event, a collective and a sharing of thoughts, tips and minds. There is something wonderfully thrilling about dashing across the Northern Quarter trying to catch different bands. And all the time, you feel you're balanced on the razor-edge of something genuinely new, something happening right here and now.

This is why I came to Manchester, this is why I call it my home. I feel right here.

Goodnight!


David x

GET ME A DRINK...I'M THURSDAY....

So the Thursday begins for me at Dry Bar and our Cath's not wrong about the amazing space that's been opened up underneath Dry Bar. It's one of the more exciting discoveries and realisations this year. It’ll be interesting to see what the in-house rig will be like post-ITC.

Oh yes, where was I ? I’m in DRY BAR and COME ON GANG take up arms – they definitely don't sound like they're from Glasgow, although a Scottish accent can be heard off mic somewhere. Musically it's a tidy bass / drums / guitar setup, the twist being the sparkly outfitted female singer who just happens to be playing the drum kit too. It doesn't take them long to crack out a smart tune - a kind of 90's Boston sound with solid bass chuggs and decent guitar thrusts. Interesting and a little bit out of the ordinary. Some daft label twat will probably try and jettison the blokes and sign up the girl, but I'd stand my ground me..and proudly display that invisible sign that to those in the know, says POTENTIAL right across it…

Quite conveniently CRANES are literally just piping up at NIGHT & DAY. For the second day running the early bands are impressing me. Again this band occupy the edgier end of new mathematical rock with a lo-fi bent that’s vividly appropriate. Cranes are from the Lakes and look as though they're still wearing their outdoor gear. Despite the absence of tents or a Millets sale tag, the thoroughly well timed scrapes and twangs punctuate their bigger moments. There's no sense of the ethereal, more a sense of playing pop art with big, yet precise hammers. There's a gap in the set when the equipment malfunctions, but their return is significant and for 7.45 pm in the evening, captivating. And loud. This is a grand start.

My favourite haunt, THE ROADHOUSE more than beckons and it's time for a bit of HEY ZUESS a spangling, epic quartet who dip out of catchy and energetic pop stretches as they clamber their own soaring peaks to a stratospheric climax. Then the next song is built around a twangy refrain that sounds like it's floating off of the San Francisco Bay - next up is some lightly whisked jingled pop that drifts into Brian Wilson harmonies. This swing in styles can be a tad baffling, but it also helps them avoid being stuck on a genre wall chart - Intelligent and indeed from London.

I'm not one for giving Mr Big some advertising but as they are synonymous with our great city, Umbro deserve a mention as does the backroom of their store which makes a great makeshift venue. The sound here is superb and the venue is small enough to be intimate but not intimidating amongst the London beards and haircuts.


AARON WRIGHT + THE APRILS administer some rustic and rather pretty songs that sit somewhere between firmly driven acoustic ballads and a bout of family friendly, harmonious busking. All in a good way I might add, with backing singers, minor chords, extra percussion and some essentially long hair. Mellow, upbeat and good enough for a barn dance.

Now it’s time to visit the CASTLE on Oldham Street. What a superb venue – the whole place has been basically ‘fixed’ and the still tiny room, at least taken to its maximum potential. Inside are, FOR A MINOR REFLECTION. They’re from Iceland, an under populated wonder of nature – it must be like playing in a phonebox to them, as it’s nowhere big enough to fit everyone in - so we have to look in through the window on the side door - It's a majestic post rock work out , bruising the senses as they throw rock shapes and dazzle with frenetic crescendos – even outside you can feed off the spine tingling verve ; you end up feeling like a hungry kid peering into a sweet shop window – I’ll be checking these fellows out as each track would fit very nicely into my own personal collection of music.

Earlier in I’d promised a rather attractive young lady that I’d go back to see her friend's band. So it’s back to UMBRO. Some other unknown girl approaches and starts randomly speaking “Lily Allen is going to be at Night & Day tonight….” - my fuse goes... Doesn’t take much ....”...and!?” I retort... but it doesn’t stop and I can’t make out if she’s pissed or not...“ You should all tweet to say you've seen her....” – politely but firmly my final point on this is comes in my reply ; “No problem the Tweet will be ... Don't go in Night & Day because there’s a massive twat inside...” I think I upset her - a bit harsh I know ; my friend on the N&D door confirmed that tonight’s star guestlister was Sam Sparro and no-one really knew what he looked like in any case...

With my attention then firmly focussed on the stage, London's HOLDEN begin their set, again with beards . This shimmers over the PA like it’s slightly under the influence of the Waterboys, pursued by Mike Scott with enjoyably emotive bohemian folk moments It’s not completely devoid of some cutting and rather fluid electric guitar breaks too, which may appear to be at odds but work wonderfully.

A short trip up to JABEZ CLEGG and the running order is very much on the late side , but it's time for the 2-4-1 Carlsberg and a catch up with Dave E - we both slag off Lily Allen and feel much better for it. Jabez brings back memories of the 2000/1 gigs we had put on at ITC and SA Promotions have got a storming line up and attendance as I skid off memory lane and back to reality. Dave disappears into the other room to catch Deadbeat Echoes (read his revelations in his piece) and I soak up the new age guitar sounds of THE SLOW READERS CLUB. I've not seen them for about a year and I know they veered towards breaking point at one juncture. This however, is the resurrection, their anthems more resplendent, the simplicity retained, the sound bigger. There are plenty of new songs here and the vocals are resolute. The substance, the tuneful assaults, are all the more convincing even if I'd been previously converted. They sing about no future as though it's inevitable - for The Slow Readers Club even older material like 'One More Minute' guarantees them just the opposite- I leave uplifted.

You can’t turn a band down who’ve just struck their first chord as you’re passing. THE STOCKS are a lively rock n roll outfit- it’s shout–from-the–rooftops stuff, which is all good and well but I think the vocals, good as they are, demand something a little more special. All the guitars and the performance itself are actually quite exillerating – I love their sounds, but they’ve not quite caught me in their headlights – yet...

At the other end of town NIGHT & DAY is now hammered, largely as the more decent late night band choice is dwindling – the other reason though, is that PULLED APART BY HORSES are shoving out massive sheets of piston driven rock. They reference punk and clattering, sometimes awkwardly arranged post rock, but ensure there’s a tempo biting at their heels. They are much touted and I’d put them level with many less written about bands, yet they are a band to be enjoyed, especially when there’s this much angst and an overload of energy that frankly hasn’t been seen on Oldham Street at gone 11 on a Thursday for well... a very long time – I remember a similar slot at ITC in this very venue around five years ago being based on a pissed up club night run by an eletronica disco promoter – this is certainly a future I thought I’d never see...glad all over...

I doff my eldery gentlemen’s cap to my younger charge (metaphorically of course) as I depart to blogland...it’s the big one tomorrow and I definitely need to recharge...


JonA

Crystal Fighters: Dry Bar / Ex-Lovers: Gullivers

I catch the end of Crystal Fighters, which is brilliant: electrically charged electro-pop/rock with force and intent. But I only get 10 minutes which leaves me wanting more. So draining my Red Stripe, I head across the road to Gullivers for Egyptian Hip Hop. But I don't quite make it...for I find Shoshin are STILL doing the generator fuelled busker regime. From a musical standpoint, they do what they do well without truly standing out but I really do have so much time & praise for this method of self promotion. It's refreshing to see a band try something different and clearly, it is working. They seem like a bunch of good sorts, they are smiling and chatting with baffled Japanese tourists on the street. Have they been here since Cath saw them yesterday? World record gig attempt, now that would be worthy of a record deal!

Arrive at a packed Gullivers and the whole thing is running late so I catch the end of Ex-Lovers. Who are playing an interesting, xx influenced version of Chris Issac's 'Wicked Game'. Which is actually pretty good. They are a tight, female-fronted guitar outfit who do the whole murky, fuzzed up pop thing remind me a bit of Rilo Kiley if they'd been brought up in Levenshulme rather than Los Angeles, raised by members of My Bloody Valentine and The Pains of Being Pure at Heart.

The scenesters are out in force for Egyptian Hip Hop. I've never seen such a variety of hairstyles (what is this current obsession with odd hair?) I see people in shit shoes & dull t-shirts but with perfect hair. When did it become such a marker of sexual selection? The Hippies & Grunge had it right: no cut, no rules, no problem! I reckon it's all to do with this 80s revitalisation. Hair was silly in the 80s, we spent the majority of the 90s just wearing it long. Now we've got the clippers out again. Which is a shame for me, as my hair is crap and resists any attempt to tame or style it.

Where was I again? Oh yeah, we were talking about music. Ho Hum. I'm off to the bar again...

David x

Deadbeat Echoes: Jabez Clegg 21.45

In the name of music and in the clutches of commitment, I part ways with the Northern Quarter to take a walk down to Oxford Road, to Jabez Clegg. There, I manage to meet up with Jon Ashley. After a bit of Lily Allen savaging (apparently she's been seen in the Northern Quarter...I must make sure I pack my tomatoes tomorrow. Though I'm not entirely sure if it is considered ethical to pelt pregnant women with fruit. I must Ask Jeeves on this one...) As there are two rooms to cover, we decide on a split. He's off to see Slow Readers Club & I go to see Deadbeat Echoes. Now I first saw these lads playing at The Roadhouse in June and they showed a lot of promise. Tonight, they go beyond promise. They are already there, the change in performance, intent and drive as absolutely stunning to see. Like an exploding bomb, the small room only seems to intensify the magnitude of their performance: they are absolutely brilliant. Without plagarising or hugging influences too closely, they are a composite crystallisation of the best British guitar bands of the past 20 years: The Roses, The Verve, The Libertines, The La's and early Oasis. Yeah, Yeah, we've heard it before you say? Get a grip and listen to what they've got to offer. This is yet another superb example of why this side of the pennines is so renowned for great bands. This is inspired, forward-thinking guitar music. It doesn't try to be clever, it doesn't have to be. It just pushes everything in your face & says "What have you got?" Frighteningly exciting, utterly inspirational, they may just be the best guitar band in the North-West at the moment.

David x

Let's Buy Happiness: Ruby Lounge 20.50

Now the clashes arrive! I need to be down at Jabez Clegg soon but I stay for a bit of Let's Buy Happiness, certainly once I've detected a North-East accent from lead singer Sarah Hall! I like what they do, they have a way of putting their tracks together in a way that somehow packs a huge amount of intent and purpose into a relatively short timescale, especially when they do the fractured, yearning beauty that once made Bloc Party so good. The melodies are sumptuous & reaching and they always keep the whole thing verging on the edge of total emotional overload. They also play telecasters, which in my eyes is a sign of good taste. Their explanation of their songs is a touch weird, almost to the point of irksome kookiness (anthems to pins & needles & Casper the friendly ghost indeed. Ok, if you say so!) but this doesn't detract from a captivating, striking performance delivered by a band with the clear potential to produce something special.

David x

Catherine AD: The Ruby Lounge 20.00

One of the exciting things about The Ruby Lounge is the way that if you're at the bar, you are alerted to the band coming on by the opening notes, drawing you towards the stage. And so it proves tonight, a series of ghostly piano chords echoes out through the room. To the backing of a funeral drum march, as obtuse sounds flicker and scatter about like dark moths, I am totally and utterly enraptured by Catherine AD. She produces the sort of literate, moving, intelligent minimalist ambient dream folk that sounds like Tori Amos covering Regina Spektor with a touch of Rogers & Hammerstein (the laptop years). It's beautiful, but with a sense of the darkness chasing closely at its tail. She is backed by haunted, eloquent, touching violin as her slender fingers dance over the keyboard. Why is it that female singers seem to be able to capture this sense of inbetween darkness and light in such an ethereally beautiful way? I am in a trance, this is simply gorgeous music from the very corners of the soul.

David x

Thomas J. Speight: Soup Kitchen 19.20

The Soup Kitchen is very busy. Initially I think it is for the vats of steaming soup in the corner (at least it saves me from reporting them to the advertising standards agency. Don't laugh, I'm still waiting for a response from Um-Bongo about whether they actually do drink it in the Congo. I want photographic proof) But no, they're here for Thomas J. Speight and his delightful little band. The songs are light and free, plenty of space for expression and they keep clear of self indulgence. It very much comes from the Bon Iver/Saddle Creek side of the rugged mountains but his voice is deeply English, an affecting combination of Fyfe Dangerfield & Charlie Fink. And on the livlier songs, he even brings a touch of Lou Reed weirdness to his vocals. Add to that a charming, honey voiced female singer and a lead guitarist who has a penchant for playing odd country Modest Mouse licks ,lead and you have a great balance of sound & song. I have a soft spot for this sort of thing. I have an even softer spot when it is done as delightfully as this.

David x

Step we gaily, on we go....off to In The City!

Well, my little ITC bag (which I must say, I'm impressed with so far!) is packed and I'm heading off into the bright lights for a night of continual music treats. And what's even better, I don't need to get up for work tomorrow. Woo Hoo! So expect plenty of semi-sozzled musings later on. Highlights today include Brown Brogues, Let's Buy Happiness, Deadbeat Echoes, Sky Larkin, Crystal Fighters, Pulled Apart By Horses, Egyptian Hip-Hop and 1913...

See you on the other side :-)

David x

Mmmm, breakfast!

The Night & Day breakfast session is as much an essential staple of In The City as swearing at any traffic light that dares to interrupt a particularly tight between-venues sprint. Previously an acoustic affair, this year there's all sorts on the bill (MM faves Golden Glow will be here Friday afternoon) so it's effectively an extra gig for those who can't wait for the evening, and free entry for all, not just ITC punters. And you can get beer and a fry-up together. In a perfect world, all days would start like this.

"Hello, my name's Klaus" says the bloke onstage in a rather weedy way which should win him fans amongst the cute indiepop brigade before he's even started singing. When he does, it's still rather cute - pretty lo-fi little poetic torch-songs. The melodies are Morrissey-like in their swooping and soaring, but the words are more Darren Hayman - little self-contained pictures - and I like the way he sometimes squishes more syllables into a line than there's really room for. "Everyone that's really bored, I'm sorry I'm not more talented...." "Bald?" asks a punter, who is. Nobody looks bored, though: you actually want to know where his stories are going. He used to be called Klaus Says Buy The Record, but as he explains only three of us can do this today as his printer broke. Proper DIY indiepop.

And this will be the sum total of my ITC coverage today. I've not missed a single day of it in seven years, but tonight sees I Like Trains' album launch at an aquarium in Hull. And how many chances do you get to go to a gig in an aquarium? So I'll be leaving you in the capable hands of the rest of the team, but not before I've mentioned that WORRIEDABOUTSATAN (8.30pm, Band On The Wall) are my official "if you see one band today..." recommendation. See you tomorrow then...

- Cath Aubergine

http://www.myspace.com/klaussaysbuytherecord

Riding out on the crest of the week, Wednesday at ITC

My first In The City and I’m completely spoilt for choice. Where does one even begin?! There are a couple of interesting looking venues I’ve never ventured into and tonight’s first is Noho, where we head over to have a look at DEAD MODELS, who, are tonight, an acoustic 3pc band from East London, with saccharine sweet 60s sounding pop songs that wouldn’t sound out of place on a compilation alongside Neil Sedaka or, more recently, the long since forgotten Jonny Boy (You are the generation that bought more shoes and you get what you deserve). They have a retro, doo wop style and with a full band I think they’d probably have a much more ‘Phil Spectre-Wall of sound’ style to it, but acoustically its done well enough, with credible harmonies and leading basslines.

Enjoyable, if not a little twee so we move along to the very busy Castle to try and catch YOUNG BRITISH ARTISTS (YBA).

Photo by Ged Camera

The new back room here is lovely if not a little intimate, and the wooden floor bounces along to the band as if it had a will of its own, demanding we all pogo along. Which really isn’t a problem. When YBA began to play I immediately wanted to switch off. Deciding indie dance pop had been done to death I continued to watch, despite my best efforts (I physically couldn’t leave the room) and became enthralled. They manage to combine intricate guitar work coupled with kinetic drum beats, layers, samples, loops, distortion and feedback, all with military precision whilst writhing around on stage in angular movements, clearly enjoying themselves. And why shouldn’t they? I’m loving it. I’m converted. I’ve nearly never changed my mind about a band half way through a set. Energetic fun, but accurate in their execution these are a highly disciplined band schooled in the way of how indie dance pop should be done. Delightful.

We climb out of the Castle and head down to Dry Live, another new venue to me, but this one with its own unique smell…. Not a bad venue though as far as hosting live bands go and we ready ourselves for ICE BLACK BIRDS. Sited as a rock outfit from Brighton drawing influence from rock gods Led Zeppelin, I’m not sure that’s actually what I’m hearing. Their drum sounds for example did swoop from a Caribbean style in some songs to early Beefheart or Zappa in the next. Not a bad thing though, a variation of styles within a rock band is something that bands like the Clash were very adept at and won them favour from many varying musical backgrounds. Staccato beats, easy to repeat chants and some good old fashioned foot stomping anthem-like songs, move the crowd into dancing along before the singer flings himself into the audience, and starts running from one side of the stage to the other. This annoys me a bit, his mic is not a radio mic and as such he looks like a puppy on a lead looking for somewhere to have a poo.

Next up we head over to the Ruby Lounge to catch FACTORY FLOOR, a fairly hyped band having received a 9/10 for their mini album from NME (erm, swoon?) the place is filled with good looking, hip, young trendy folk. And Tim Burgess from 90s band The Charlatans. A London based trio producing dark and brooding heavy dance music, the undulating kind that has bass SO heavy my esophegus has been vibrated to the back of the room (don’t worry we’ll catch up later). Hypnotic and repetitive, sexy genteel shoegazy vocals, bowed guitars and pounding drums, this dance macabre band wouldn’t be out of place being housed within Output Recordings, home of dark and sometimes sinister dance music which bore the likes of LCD Soundsystem, Juan Maclean and Black Dice.

We are stood so near the speakers though that my ears are having a hernia, and I’m worried it’ll impair my ears for O CHILDREN who are up next, and by up, I mean UP. The singer is the tallest man I’ve ever seen on a stage, but instead of looking awkward and out of place his presence commands and dominates the attention of the crowd, to the point where I fail to realise there are other band members on the stage with him. His voice is deep and foreboding, telling us tales of woe, despair and danger against a backdrop of scuzzy noir guitar and thumping beats. Named after a Bad Seeds song, I actually find their sound much more akin to the Cramps and the Horrors, with an air of heroin-punk chic. The crowd are impressed and rightly so, they have good songs that you can dance to with just a hint of danger to them.

We run off into the night towards Soup Kitchen, to catch BROWN BROGUES, a two piece, one with a guitar, one with a snare drum. Beginning with an easy, laid back blues feel the pace quickly changes and turns more raucous, the guitar riffs more punchy and the snare more snappy. It’s hard not to compare to the likes of The White Stripes with their raw and edgy but basic sound, singing the blues the way the Violent Femmes may have been happy with, if they too had been a two piece (Not a bikini) band. Go and check them out for yourselves if you can, they are on tomorrow night (Thursday, 7pm at the Castle). I head home for some shut eye before tomorrow night’s onslaught.

Stephanie Grimshaw

WEDNESDAY NIGHT AND CATH GOES SHOEGAZING...

I wonder if the name of Noho, a relatively new venue on Stevenson Square, is a deliberate piss-take of that dump round the corner? Anyway it's a lovely dark arty little space, which oddly enough also describes 2.54 pretty well. An initial and wilfully lazy assessment of "The xx with a bigger engine" is not inaccurate, but that bigger engine makes all the difference. The core of the group is a pair of effortlessly cool sisters, Colette and Hannah Thurlow, although they've brought a couple of blokes with them to flesh out the live sound; however any indication that the blokes are responsible for the engine is quickly refuted by a little research which reveals their unusual (and a right pain in the arse to search online) name refers to the exact track time when it 'kicks in' on the Thurlows' joint favourite Melvins' song. Back in the day, when Grunge and Shoegaze were set up largely by the music press as warring factions, there were very few bands that blended the two - Swervedriver and maybe Dinosaur Jr - but as the bloke stood next to me comments, that forbidden coupling seems to be all over 2010. So there are deep layers of fuzz and echoing drums, shades of Jesus And Mary Chain and My Bloody Valentine, and Colette's voice floating over the top like a slightly stoned summer daydream. A decision to stop running around and stay and watch the whole set pays off, too, as each track pulls you deeper into their hazy world.

Heading for Dry afterwards I'm distracted by Shoshin, who have set up on Oldham St with a couple of practice amps and a spread of flyers. Not quite as bold as the band who pulled up a flatbed truck outside the Midland Hotel a couple of years back, but unlike that particular never-heard-of-since waste of electricity (Sons Of The Stage, according to MM records) whose failure to land a proper showcase was clearly because they were dreadful, Shoshin have got something going on.



Specifically a streetwise, rough-around-the-edges mix of indie, soul and that strand of working-class white funk that thrived on the fringes of the 80s music scene, rarely being allowed through any doors then, either. Add a few more up-to-date urban stylings and you have a band that can actually make people dance on a central Manchester pavement. This is no one-off stunt, either - the band has a history of street gigs and are actually starting to build a fanbase this way. As panels will doubtless, at some point this week, debate ways and means of getting your band's name out there in the cut-throat and overcrowded modern music industry Shoshin seem to have found a means that works for them.

There's another surprise in store at Dry. I'd heard they'd done up the downstairs but bloody hell!



Gone is that pungent little basement in which MM has spent so many nights watching live music and indeed home of what I still consider the greatest In The City performance ever (65daysofstatic's rocket-fuelled 2005 appearance). No, these days there's a massive great big (300 capacity, we reckon) cavern of a venue - black walls, minimalist industrial design, something of the underground car park about it; would be absolutely great for techno nights. It's maybe a bit big for the small number of people who have come down to check out The Milk, though.

The Milk sound like London. Some bands are just unmistakeably musically rooted; in their case not in the London of achingly hip Shoreditch bloggers or vintage-clad Camden indie kids but an older, dirtier London. You could imagine them pictured in black and white in a spittle-flecked Hope And Anchor. There's a bit of Libertines rabble-rousing, trebly funk-flecked guitar with odd echoes of The Blockheads, late-period Jam fiery soul, a healthy dose of Dr Feelgood rock'n'roll and some genuine grit. Turns out they're actually from Chelmsford which seems to make even more sense: nowhere satellite towns have always been a fertile breeding ground for the passion formed out of disaffection.



Team Ghost (above) suit the black space even better; at times it feels like some long-lost underground way back in the early 90s before gig venues got all gentrified (my vodka and coke came in a plastic cup) and cute boys with floppy hair, dark clothing and a pile of warm fuzzy delay pedals were the greatest thing in the world. There are washes of synth and scatterings of bleeps in the background, but live Team Ghost pull the effects-heavy guitars right out front to create a massive great big sonic bed for the sleepy-eyed vocals. And the tunes are just sublime, drifting effortlessly along the same sort of Slowdivey trail as our own Daniel Land And The Modern Painters' (both have, unsurprisingly, released records with Sonic Cathedral) and washing over you like late evening sunshine. Their last track "A Glorious Time" with its repeated line "leave it all behind you" recalls Ride in more than just the words and I wish it, or the band in general, could go on for longer. As does the frustrated chap who's appeared next to me for the last song, lamenting that the much-feted No Age (at Night & Day) were "shite" and how he wishes he'd popped next door a little sooner.

Out on the street, Shoshin are still at it. You have to admire that.



Back in Noho, Beaty Heart are like nothing else I've ever seen, which is no mean feat in itself really. One stand-up drummer and three lads behind a table of stuff (except when there's two of them stood at the kit), wearing a cacophony of colour as vibrant as their music, upper bodies all bobbing in unison. The stuff comprises all manner of boxes, wired and syn-drums, and yet the sound that emerges is oddly organic. Tribal beats piled upon beats upon beats, echoes of vocals, a melee of unrecognisably warped synthetic sounds that all build into hypnotic repetitive cycles, they sound like a party in a rainforest heard through a few hundred yards of assorted wildlife. A young white British band incorporating global influences without ever looking (or sounding) like smug twats? Wonders will never cease. And the ginger one's jumper can possibly be seen from space. Great fun.



Last stop Ruby Lounge. Still Corners are yet another young band with a few shoegaze influences, but theirs is an altogether more liquidy take on things; the ethereal female vocals (extensive research has not revealed the name of any band members, which in itself is something I find quite appealing) as soft-focus as the pools of colour that light up the screen behind them. She's compelling in the way she just stands there, almost motionless, whilst the boys shimmer in shadows around her. It's so blissed out and sleepy that by the end of their set I am, too. It's been a long day, but it's already felt more exciting and vibrant than the whole of In The City 2009. I'll return to this subject later - for now, there are more bands to see...

CATH AUBERGINE... SHOEGAZER AND PROUD OF IT :)

http://www.myspace.com/thetwofiftyfour
http://www.myspace.com/weareshoshin
http://www.myspace.com/thisisthemilk
http://www.myspace.com/teamghostmusic
http://www.myspace.com/beatyheart
http://www.myspace.com/stillcorners

The rest of the rest of Wednesday....

So looking for something different, I enter Night and Day to be scared witless by John Wiese. Now I'm sure it's good in many ways but to me it sounds like a nightmare involving kittens being drowned by black shadows....on a laptop. In certain circumstances this could sound wonderful but maybe my heart is a little skip-a-dee-bee-bop over all these miners being released. It's just too f**king scary for me. So I make my way out.

There are a lot of people with beards here at ITC. Is it part of this year's theme?

I retrace my steps back to Mint Lounge then, for Oberhofen. Who I suppose are good. Yes, they are good. But dear lord, haven't they studied the first Vampire Weekend album closely. It's all full of afro-twinged lead, stop-start verses and the same studied cool that makes you want to smack Ezra Koenig in the face with a bunch of punk vinyl. They're actually a lot better than VW (I actually hate Vampire Weekend, they're a textbook example of cynical plagarism) but there is something that doesn't quite gel for me. They do a nice pop-punk sound but overall, it is about counting the numbers and joining the dots. All good, all well...but nothing striking. However, I do like the lead singer's jacket. I could do with one like that...

The night is running away but I want to carry on. So finding a couple of people I head across to The Roadhouse where the son and heir of nothing in particular is going on. But I buy a drink. A nice double Jamesons, which is interrupted by the cry of "All off to The Castle". Hastily placing the aforementioned drink in my pocket, I head off throught the doors, avoiding the jiggles that may imbue my jacket with raw alcohol.

But alas, the slumbers are upon me (some us have to be in work tomorrow, y'know?) So making my goodbyes, I usher a taxi towards me. Turns out I'm in luck...the taxi driver recognises me and knows where I'm going. Timing. We talk about Manchester United and the NHS over the journey before he releases me back to the comfort of my flat. As I turn on the TV, the final miner is being released from the dark, unforgiving rock of the Chilean mine. I sense a moment of collective humanity. I am spent, this has been a great night. I shall be back for more tomorrow.

Sleep well,

David x

ENOUGH RANTING, TIME FOR SOME MUSIC...

Cath's Wednesday, part one...

By 6pm my inbox and phone have nearly exploded with supportive messages about the Pay To Play debate. This issue is very much not going to go away, now. I walk into Common, where the aforementioned PYT are hosting a live event, and everyone's talking about it. And the first music I hear is Patterns. Admittedly it's just a soundcheck - they're not on for another hour - but it's as good a start as you can get, really. MM has made Common our starting point for the evening, so we have a brief session of comparing plans: David has printed his in two different formats, I have precisely none, Jon and Steph are somewhere in between...

First band of the night proper is equally well known to us here at MM, Advances In Mathematics. They deal in chiming instrumental indie-post-rock that's as closely related to The Chameleons and I Like Trains as it is Mogwai, and they're big fans of the descending scale which gives all their tunes a sense of wistful, longing melancholy. In a way it's refreshing, within the context of the genre, to hear a band that doesn't feel the need to chop time-signatures every ten seconds or have a sampler - each tune simply flows beautifully, expanding and contracting, soaring and diving, crashing in a hail of drums and slipping away through the echoes of a delay pedal. And simply by virtue of being the first live band of the evening, they draw a huge crowd. A fact not lost on the friend who joins them on vocals for one gorgeous, downbeat Doves-like tune: "If I'd known the paparazzi were here I'd have worn a less ridiculous T-shirt" he comments. Not at all; we reckon "Three Cheers For Ray Mears" is a perfectly reasonable statement to make to the world...

Head over to Moho next with the intention of seeing Blitz Kids, a punk-pop-disco-hardcore act apparently. It's a punk/metal showcase and queued round the block with teens with unusual piercings. I ask what's the score with press / delegate entry. "Join the queue like everyone else". And the door staff are being their usual painfully slow selves searching bags and checking ID. The band's on in three minutes. "How do the bands get reviewed then, if you're not letting press in?" "Well Kerrang are already in there." Right, fuck it then. Rock/metal fans are always the first to complain that the mainstream/general music press won't touch them - well we tried. Won't bother again, at least not tonight. I see from his blog entry Jon's had the same problem. One to avoid.

First horrible clash of the day is Brontide vs Patterns. I've seen - and reviewed - both several times, the latter mostly under their former name of Elmo Logic - and I've rambled on about them so much their entry in they guide book is one of my review quotes. In the end they win because Common is closest.



I think I fall in love with this band a little bit more every time I see them. Still developing, the electronics is coming into the foreground these days: rich, pure synth tones that complement the rain-soaked backdrop beautifully. And they have the songs to match the sound, each one a perfect little juxtaposition of the gloomy and the uplifting.

Music's not just about boys with guitars, though, is it? Over to the Roadhouse then, where "Manchester urban music's exotic other" Thallie is performing at the Murkage-backed Urban ITC event. At least she will be, after a strongly Belfast-accented freestyler /street poet who swears a lot. Um, maybe. As fifteen minutes passes with no sign of her, the delegates start to drift away. I give her another five cos I'm nice like that, but eventually I, too, depart the by now almost empty venue and decide my valiant attempts to break out of my personal indie/post-rock/electronica box are basically doomed.

Mazes (at Night & Day) it is, then. One of Manchester's most talked-about new bands, you can't get near the stage for photographers. Despite the world and his wife - or a few of the great many bloggers heaping praise on them, anyway - comparing them to the greats of the Flying Nun family (a short-lived but rich seam of indie music that emerged from New Zealand in the mid to late 80s, a fair chunk of which resides in the "stuff I quite liked at the time but haven't blown the dust off for years" bit of my vinyl collection) their sunny, slackery alt-pop does little for me - hopefully David can see whatever it is that I can't - so it's back to my home turf, physically and musically: D/R/U/G/S at Ruby Lounge.



D/R/U/G/S are amazing, despite having a name that's a bit rubbish and contains unnecessary punctuation. They are the throbbing mutant offspring of dark sweeping 21st century electronica and the dreamy trance of early Ulrich Schnauss, segueing tracks into an intoxicating continuum punctuated with half-somthered samples and techno bleeps. They have almost negative stage presence, preferring to hunch over their knob-twiddling with their hoods up as if nobody's watching them. Plenty of people are watching them, of course - they're at least partly Mancunian and the subject of many a cool blog, but if the latter implies some sort of horrible scenester band they're anything but: there's real depth and substance (or should that be substances?) here, and even some bits you could dance to if so inclined.

Reader's voice (Beano style): So basically, Cath, you've seen three bands you know you like, and all local to some extent too. Not very In The City, that, is it? True. So I hope The Steals will forgive me; I'm off into the unknown... see where I end up in my next entry, which will be up in the morning, along with some pictures.

http://www.myspace.com/advancesinmathematics
http://www.myspace.com/maliciouspixels
http://www.myspace.com/mazesmazesmazes
http://www.myspace.com/drugsdogoodthings

Weds - Totally Wired...

OK,OK... so there’s lot to do and the task is a might harder as the events proper are condensed into a mid-week evenings viewing .

So I take a flutter on NIGHT & DAY and there was just something about BRONTIDES that caught my eye. Therefore, there are more loud goings on occurring in the less populated (although early doors) venue. Which is a shame as Brontides provide big hunks of instrumental, often guttural rock. They've gathered a devoted crowd down the front, engaged by the driven, mechanical pulse of lost prog rock. Brontides release a few depth charges and cut throat peaks of high density distortion along the way. Reminds me more than just a bit of a very early and comparatively primordial Youth Movies, but thankfully this is tempered by their own unique flavouring.

A trip to Moho was immediately abandoned due to the stupid and ridiculous queue enforced by the door security. Two in at a time for no apparent reason - A joke ? - I notice other MM staffers had the same problem - we seem to conclude that it's hardly worth it.

So a trip to take in THE KILL VAN KULLS as part of HIGH VOLTAGE at the ever impressive MINT LOUNGE is more than in order. This is a band blessed with a pure pop heart and I hate to say it, the spirit of 80's stadium rock. Strangely it comes over as an addictive cross between The Killers, Wham! and A Flock Of Seagulls peppered with the credibility of Talk Talk – *gasp* - geared up for an Ibiza club PA. Beyond this weird melange of good stuff and chiselled cheekbones, The Kill Van Kulls simply have brilliant songs. It's just a shame that a heavy fisted engineer destroyed their sound with some extreme quantities of sub-bass. Ear bleeding in an otherwise perfect world.

The ROADHOUSE is next on the list, where local legend JOHNNY JAY is compere for the night, for a leftfield urban feast of rising talent. WRIGZ FEAT CONNECT FOUR are just coming towards the end of their set – young guys with an obvious passion and some really tight ideas. As you might expect the change overs are quite rapid, given the use of loops and backing tracks, but this pace ensures your attention is rarely divided.

MURKAGE deserve the investment - DJ sampling again pushes much of the set as hooks and energetic banter fly out in all directions. Murkage nail their words with a welcome vigour and blast of fresh ideas. One song in they're giving away free T-shirts. Then they mash up dance music and throbbing, pumped up ambient tunes - it's damn amazing and never lets up - proper dubstep punk rock with a supercharged soul fuelled engine. ‘Trouble In The Jungle' is good fun and bursting with an infectious timebomb of beats.

One thing that does distract is the number of people you’re likely to bump into – which kind of proves that Manchester isn’t just a promising Metropolis, it’s also some kind of musical village ; so there's conversations on streets and at the bar as everyone downloads the days events - it's a real talking shop ; on ethat proves the real value of the whole event...

FAC251 requires a short sprint across town and I have KIN on my list. Backed by bass (Ding) and drums plus keyboards,her scoured, dynamic voice is layered over some sharp guitar work. If anything the vocals are somewhat tortured, but the music swings like the soundtrack to an old carnival. There's plenty of abrasion and sulking, yet the formula here is that there isn't one. That's what makes it all the more interesting, especially when coiled around such splendid bass lines.

Downstairs at JOSHUA BROOKS, it’s a chance discovery of MISSED YOU AT THE SHOW, complete with some Americanised rock – they’re a sprightly studenty pop band composing their themes from Mid-west rock moments. The tunes are fairly straight forward and workmanlike, although they have a rather charming geek factor, cemented by the presence of a budding Rick Moranis, who gleefully stuffs a piano into the mix.

I’ve sort of been planning the next one all night. JANICE GRAHAM BAND are taking over (literealy) the basement of CORD. It’s a very smart space, underground, covered in tiles, long and narrow, like a lost annex to a small hidden tube station – it seems such an unlikely space. There’s a big delay as the Wah Wah pedal has gone AWOL, but with that eventually fixed, the band establish themselves as the best live experience (at least for me) so far today. They’re heavier, dubbier and even tighter (if that was possible) than I remembered. The trumpet is fed through a constant reverb and their upbeat songs are unmissable. The vibe here, with spontaneous dancing and an intimacy missing from most gigs these days, is precious. I can only suggest it could be like the first days of the Cavern, recreated by a band that are truly inspiring and overloaded with tunes. Dub, pop, ska, are present, but in a form that transcends their sources. The most exciting band of the day and I reckon; quite likely the weekend?

There’s time for one last act and it’s another one I've put on my own radar – NO AGE are taking to the NIGHT & DAY stage – what you get is a Sonic Y / c86 / post -punk yet refined attack of white noise guitar and forceful drum rhythms. Now this is something quite special – I like the upbeat, tamed nastiness of their work that terrorises a shoegaze into something with altogether sharper teeth and a nasty hidden snarl.

That’s my lot for this session – so far I’m liking this long overdue return to the Northern Quarter...


JonA

T33th: Mint Lounge - 22.30

I haven't been into The Mint Lounge in years. Which is a suprise, as I really like it. It's got the right blend of darkness, dirty faded glamour and nice leather sofas that any live/club venue should have. And it is full. Now I've heard a bit about T33th but haven't checked them out until this point. You're not quite sure what's going on initially as they have a few technical problems during setup, culminating with the drummer flinging his sticks at the malfunctioning bass drum box. But when they start...OH MY GOD. If I could shout loudly enough about the magnificence of this electro/fuzz/dubstep/riot grrl power whirlwind, you would hear it from Ashton.

Photo by Ged Camera

A collection of eye popping, filthy bass eruptions with sharp needles of synth fighting through. You can even hear post-hardcore metal coming through the speakers at times. This is mindblowing: a laptop played like a guitar, a drummer who knows that each beat is supposed to sequence with your DNA and Veronica So: a singer who frankly, defies the laws of sanity. She screams the lyrics out in a trance-like fury. She comes into the crowd to dance with us. She is brilliant. I find myself right at the front, head snapping back and forth, dancing crazily...I don't give a shit. This is PRECISELY what electronic music can be when it's done well: Thrilling, genre-defying, challenging and exhillarating. I absolutely love it and I want more, so I buy a 7" single after. They even sign it for me. I'm going home in a bit to annoy my neighbours with it. Though they may well end up enjoying it. This is musical catnip: confusing, overpowering and utterly addictive. Use wisely...

David x

The Steals: Band On The Wall 21.50

I flick on my HTC to be greeted by a BBC update to tell me that 23 of the 33 Chilean miners have now been freed...rejoice! I feel a warm glow inside, so I decide to pass it on via the blog. You are watching MM24...News & reviews on the hour, every hour. We don't sleep, we inform. And we'll be going as long as The Rolling Stones keep touring. Or as long as Prince keeps releasing shit albums. Let's just say we'll be round for a while :-)

Photo by Ged Camera

Anyway, if you know The Steals, you'll know that same warm glow. A beautiful tapestry of sound & atmospheric glory that resonates in the ears, heart & soul. Everything about them whispers beauty, every drumfall crushes your woes, every chime of the guitar dries the tear they probably started. The room fills with the warmth of Jayn's voice and the epic ambition of the songs. Close your eyes and it isn't a cold October night. You're standing in a field in summer, the sun is setting and the grass caresses your ankles. They never rush their tracks, they are nurtured slowly and fully released only when the time is right. To call them "folk" is too simple a label. They are so much more than that. But their template and premise is relatively simple, it grows from a collective of fanstastically talented musicians. In not trying to do anything too complicated but doing what they do wonderfully, they make beautiful, timeless music.

David x

Seeraübuer Jenny: BOTW 20.50

Subway...simple sandwiches, served swiftly...yep? Not so this evening. I wander in to get a sandwich as a mid-ITC refuelling stop. First thing, the guy behind the counter is apologising profusely for dropping a sandwich on the floor. The punter he is serving looks utterly distraught, as if he's just been fed his favourite dog on honey-oat bread (personally, I have always been sceptical of those steak strips...). It's only a sandwich, you haven't even paid for it yet, life goes on, ob-la-di, ob-la-da... Secondly, I ask "What is the sub of the day?". "Don't know" says the guy. "It might be the Italian BMT". "NOOO!" shouts a voice from the kitchen. "Ah, it's the ham and turkey...oh no, no" he says, before wandering off to get an instruction booklet. An instruction booklet. In a Subway By this point, I am almost beside myself with amusement. But it gets better. His colleague clearly hasn't tidied up the mess of the stricken sandwich as he turns, slips on the sauce and nearly falls headlong into the waiting toasting oven. A couple of chavs drunkenly knock the salad sneeze protector down. I've had enough of this...Doritos will have to suffice. Most ridiculous place I've ever been to in my life...

Photo by Ged Camera

With all of this palaver, I make it into Band On The Wall with seconds to spare to see Seerauber Jenny. Who I must confess, I already love. Fran Barker has a voice as prettily ragged as Polly Harvey but this only seeks to add an edge to songs that stride confidently towards the big sign marked "anthem". There are touches of The Killers in the way they subvert gloom into shimmering glory. They also have a rich, slightly roots tone set by Fran's wise decision to play an acoustic, rather than electric guitar. Speaking of guitars, I note that their lead guitarist looks an awful lot like my ex. I didn't notice this last time (no suprise there, I was rather drunk. It was about 9pm. I am a shame) and it scares me for a second. Fortunately I have wine. All problems are averted...

Seerauber Jenny are excellent and developing quickly in their confidence and presence. I can see them becoming a significant force over the next year. The large crowd they gather into BOTW is testament to their already spreading reputation. Though I still have precisely no idea how a new band who's two main creatives live 300 miles apart can possibly work, the precision of their performance and the undoubted quality of their songs are impossible to deny. I guess it's all down to that new-fangled t'internet then. Whodathoughtit?!

David x

Brontide: Night & Day 19.50

Crivenny! That wakes me up! Entering N&D I am assailed by ferocious stop-start maths rock, with strides into dubstep at times. This is Brontide. And they are a dense exploration of precisely how you can be clever and anarchic at the same time. A three piece instrumental setup, they don't require any vocals, for the allow silky & atmospheric fret-tapping to meddle with melodic, harsh edged bass in an ambient lushness 'fore the whole thing explodes in a wave of skittered cymbals, fractured bass drum & sonic-boom guitar. Their key skill is never treading over the same ground. It is so common of intelligent rock music to spiral round in ever-decreasing circles with OCCASIONAL changes in the hi-hat beat and OCCASIONAL bits where the bassist plays a harmonic. Brontide never, ever do this. They bring their ideas, they batter the living crap out of them, mend them with melodies and then explore the field for their new quarry. Really, this is fantastic stuff. Better than coffee, I'm thinking of getting them to record me a tone for my alarm clock...

David x

Christopher Eatough: Castle Hotel 19.10

And so, the saga begins. I've heard all about ITC but have never been a part of it. Curiously enough, I do remember putting a demo tape together for it with a few friends back in Newcastle back in 1998. We never got anywhere. Just think where the world may have been now if 'The Delicate Heads' had become big.... *Momentary David Fantasy*

So here we go. On my running blocks. But they're there for a soft start. Christopher Eatough is someone I've championed many times over this year and the capacity crowd in The Castle may be a sign that I'm not the only person who is realising how wonderful his songs are. Joined by Clare Watson on violin, the chapel-like timber frames of The Castle provide a perfect ampitheatre for songs that sound like they've been matured in casks of oak. He is developing rapidly beyond the level of simply getting up and playing his songs. There is a richer tone to his voice, he varies his delivery and plays around with the phrasing at times. It's the sound of someone developing their own style, their own niche. And as per normal, it is wonderful: stories full of wonderful, aching pathos sung with simple, wounded honesty. If there's a better singer-songwriter in Manchester, he'd better start speaking up soon.

David x

And so it begins (for me)

So here I am queuing for registration and the computers are down. It wouldn't quite be ITC without some form of malfunction or another. The room's getting fuller and nothing's happened for 15 minutes. Except that they've put on some swanky electronic music, which sounds as though it's drifted out of some open lift door somewhere.

Everyone shuffles up several chairs, but the bank of iMacs are still revealing a pretty but resolutely static pattern of error messages. Suddenly it's all systems go and I look up to view a room full of youth and haircuts. I'm the fossil in the room although I haven't got one trouser leg rolled up in the name of fashion. Someone has.

Seriously the presence of youth is impressive and it's re-assuring that the next wave is visble and firmly on the ascent. Apart from the venerable organisers there are no familiar faces detected from my 10 years as an official delegate - that has to be a good thing.

With pass in hand it's off to the MM meet at COMMON. You may get several accounts of ADVANCES IN MATHEMATICS. They present themselves as an ambient post-rock outfit brimming with instrumental, hypnotic masterpieces. They thrive on their melodic carrier waves; Powerful and measured it's just the fix I need as it fully panders to my obsession with the genre. There are many references that could be accessed here from Explosions to This Will Destroy You and 5ive - yet the quartet are more than able to claim their own place alongside such acts.


JonA
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