Shallow Rave

You may have seen this article by Sarah Champion in last Sunday's Observer about the alleged rave revival. This is has nothing in common with the NME's 'neo rave' nonsense (a bandwagon lacking both a driver and wheels - feel free to parse that metaphor as you wish) except that both are basically empty journalistic concoctions. There's no evidence that raves ever went away - they just got smaller and more discreet. Actually, having only been to the odd little squat- and forest-clearing-based rave, I'm no expert, but all of the commenters beneath this post on the Observer blog seem to agree. They also confirm, depressingly, that raves have moved from hardcore and MDMA to psytrance and ketamine - not what I'd call progress. The most notable comment is by 'Tomtea' who says:

..this weekend numerous raves were shut down, often violently and with no section 63 excetera issued. The police had been issued with a zero tolerance command from the powers that be.

The reason? The guardian published an article a month or so ago claiming that multi-rigger so called 'megaraves' were planned across the country on a massive scale. Thhis weekend was just like any other, multiple small parties aceross the country...only this time the guardian whipped up a dreadful rumour that led to many casualties at essex and the army called in at wales. This is a direct result of the guardians 'megarave' claim.

Crooklyn

Haven't made it to any gigs since coming to New York, so most of what I'm hearing is coming out of car windows, which is as good a place as any to find out what music really matters. Take a guess. No, not Fennesz, but reggaeton, which is not exactly the most engaging genre that mankind has ever formulated but at least it's not funky house.

Update: actually bollocks to car windows - on the way to the airport I saw a little girl and her brother, both about eight or nine years old, treat the whole subway carriage to a semi-improvised all-singing-all-dancing bravura performance of Chamillionaire's 'Ridin'. I was ready to be all English and irritated but I just couldn't do it. Sensational. You don't get that kind of thing on the Tube. (Obviously by 'the Tube' I mean the London Underground. If you want people dancing to 'Ridin' on YouTube, they are everywhere.) It was as if the city of New York was making sure I'd really miss it.

Buried Treasure

At Ladbrokes the Arctic Monkeys are now 5/4 favourites to win the Mercury Music Prize. How depressing. Is this the best we can do as a nation? Of course, we all have different ideas of how the Mercury should work. For example, Neil McCormick complains in this ludicrous article from the Daily Telegraph that 'the list conspicuously ignores the musicians the country has actually been listening to', apparently wanting the prize to be awarded on the basis of popularity – don't we have the Brits for that? (He also claims that the competition seems to be 'closed to anyone over 45', not realising that Scritti Politti's Green Gartside is 51.) Personally, I think it's vital that the winner should be making music that genuinely sounds different to anything that's come before – cf. Dizzee Rascal in 2003 or Portishead in 1994. We should be rewarding innovation, not stagnation. On this year's shortlist, only Hot Chip and the Guillemots even come close to qualifying, and neither of those are bands that really feel like they matter. The problem, of course, is that all the innovation in British music since about 1991 has been in dance music, and dance music produces great singles but rarely great albums. The recent exception has been Burial's self-titled release, but Hyperdub, his label, didn't even enter it – perhaps because £250, the entry fee, is a significant chunk of your earnings when your album has limited distribution and shamefully little press.

Update: [puts head in hands]

Peaches, Commodore Ballroom, Vancouver, 9.8.06

I grabbed a spot of dinner round the corner from the Commodore Ballroom before this show and spotted a martini named after Canada's most infamous potty-mouthed electro rocker. Ordering a Teaches of Peaches I asked the waitress if she was going to the gig? She wasn't but exclaimed, 'Oh that Peaches , she's real comfortable with herself!' Her new show is rock theatre at its best. This one goes up to eleven.

1. With all eyes on the stage Peaches surprises by making her grand entrance on the left hand side of the ballroom rapping through the salacious R&B of Tent In Your Pants.

2. Peaches has fleshed out her flesh show with a four piece girl band to do new album Impeach My Bush justice. Her trusty drum machine is now complemented by an Amazonian blonde behind a huge kit (with a wind machine blowing her hair skywards).

3. The band are dressed in glam rock style baco foil suits. There are several costume changes - all of them taking place on stage. She's real comfortable with herself remember, no need to disrobe backstage eh?

4. She performs Rock Show with a Flying V guitar that comes down to her knees.

5. Lovertits is inexplicably performed from atop a Chopper bike.

6. The guitarist blows up an inflatable phallus with a foot pump. The erect penis is then placed on the drum stool while the Amazonian blonde brings her sticks to play a synth drum front of stage. The penis is later stretchered off by a couple of dancing roadies (it wasn't the best drummer to be honest having no hands or anything).

7. During Give'er Peaches removes her pink bra and panties to reveal...a black bra and panties.

8. Support band Eagles of Death Metal gamely line up on stage and goon around for Hankie Code. I guess their hankie code expresses a preference for cartoonish heavy metal boogie. Either that or they like rimming.

9. Peaches has a drum machine which glides acoss the stage as if by magic (though I think it has something to do with castors, a piece of string and a hidden roadie).

10. Her guitarists (one of whom is JD of Le Tigre who features in her own lesbian calendar available for purchase in the lobby) do press ups and then arm wrestle during Give'er. Not while still playing their instruments I hasten to add.

11. At the gigs conclusion Peaches awards all her band a medal each. And then the band award her a medal the size of a dinner plate. They are all WINNERS you see.

Pull Up!

Just heard Rossi B and Luca's murderous dubstep remix of Baby Cham's 'Ghetto Story' on Richie Vee's 1Xtra garage/grime show. They are on fire! Incidentally they've just relinquished their slot on Rinse FM but you can download several of their mixtapes at their Myspace page.

Kitchens of Distinction?

One of my favourite labels at the moment is Bristol's Sink & Stove. Founded in 2000, they peddle arty indie of the highest quality. They've discovered bands like Chikinki, Gravenhurst, and the Organ, all of whom have gone to big things (do I mean 'big'? - well, they're not on The OC, but they're somewhere). Right now Sink & Stove are repping the Bearsuit-esque You & The Atom Bomb, the Hood-esque Leave Land for Water, the Kenickie-esque The Vibration and many others.

Atlantic Gold: 75 Classics from the Atlantic Vaults

If you go into your nearest Fopp and get this it will be the best five pounds you spend today. Unless you buy an extra copy of Dummy and some sweets.

Low, Koko, London, 27.7.06

Low's Things We Lost in the Fire apparently falls into the genre of 'sadcore', which 1. is even sillier than 'grindie' and 2. sounds like something a panicked MP would say if he was asked about cannabis in front of a group of sixth-formers. Also, I wouldn't say Things was sad so much as uplifting (although that in itself is a bit of a Richard and Judy's Book Club expression). Anyway, Thursday's gig was probably the most moving concert I've ever attended, but then how could it be otherwise?

In case you're unfamiliar with the concept, Don't Look Back (which is an appendage of the All Tomorrow's Parties series of festivals) ask bands to play their magnum opus in order from start to finish. Simon Reynolds has coined the term 'anachronesis' for what might be seen as a sterile obsession with reproducing past glories, but I think such criticisms are frankly pretty sadcore. The biggest triumph so far has been (so I'm told) the Stooges doing 1970's Fun House last year. Things We Lost in the Fire, by contrast, came out in 2001, which is not very long for an album to enter the canon, but I can't believe people won't still be listening to it in another thirty years – it's a record of staggering beauty and emotional penetration, a true work of art. And I'm clearly not the only one who loves it, because the original gig sold out so fast that ATP added a second night. There wasn't a dry eye in the house on Thursday, except, of course, among the journalists, as it is now standard in the industry to have your tear ducts surgically removed so that, in their place, can be put a hunk of extra brain tissue specifically designed to help you cope with the psychic trauma when your editor forces you to write something nice about Keane.

There were no surprises. Alan and Mimi Sparhawk were joined by a bassist, violinist, and keyboardist, and they faithfully reproduced the album in all its slow, haunting glory. I could really have written this review before the gig. (The only thing that threw me was how loud it got. Low are known as a quiet band - or they were before The Great Destroyer - but they pull no punches live.) Some might wonder if there's any point to a gig that's quite so predictable, but seeing the emotion on Alan Sparhawk's rugged face was really something. Plus, they pulled out some other songs for the encores, like 'Canada' from Trust and 'When I Go Deaf' from The Great Destroyer, although sadly not my personal favourite, 'Two Step' from Secret Name.

So where next for Don't Look Back? I'd love to see ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead do Source Tags and Codes.

ED BANGER BOAT PARTY, PARIS 27/7/06

"Crazy ass line-up tonight," boasted the flyers for this party and judging by the queue to get on board half of Paris was in agreement. Ed Banger records have swiftly built a formidable roster of new acts and have defined themselves in the same way Gigolo and Skint records did before them. Though not linked to a scene people do talk of liking 'the Ed Banger sound' which seems to fall somewhere between Head Ed Banger Pedro Winter's favourite album - The Beastie Boys' 'Check Yo' Head' - and Daft Punk, the band he manages. The full Ed Banger crew are present in full pirate outfits, Vicarious Bliss even opting for a diseased parrot on his shoulder though first must-see act tonight was Uffie. The Miami born hip hop pixie lives in Paris and is produced by Mr Oizo, she comes across like a less ominious, much younger Peaches. Winter followed playing crunk and old school hip hop before paying respect to his mentors by dropping Daft Punk's 'Da Funk'. Justice seem to have dropped the pop records that infested their sets last year for a more focussed, (very) full-on rave sound which was both exciting and histrionic culminating in their own 'Carpates' which sounded like a cats chorus dragged across a killer bassline. 2manydj's were the special guests - Stephen Dewaele looking more like a New Romantic Simon Le Bon than a pirate - and they played a one-off 'back to 2001' set, the year that rock, pop and electro aligned. Belgian rave gave way to Vanessa Paradis' 'Joe le Taxi' and the likes of Tiga, Felix Da Housecat and New Order were followed by the Dolly Parton/Royksopp nexus from their best (and still) selling Radio Soulwax compilation. It all but brought the boat down and concluded one crazy ass party indeed.
Ed Banger

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