Archive: live

Remember cover You wouldn’t expect The Fiery Furnaces to do anything in the conventional way. When their debut album, Gallowsbird’s Bark, was released in 2003, they were seen almost as being part of the same scene as The White Stripes. There was the bluesy-rock element to the thing, then the fact that both bands were a brother–sister partnership (though in the case of The White Stripes, it was actually a desperate publicity-seeking lie).

But come the release of their second album, Blueberry Boat, it was clearer that The Fiery Furnaces weren’t going to play it by the book. The stripped-back bluesy rock took a back seat and was supplanted by a kind of wonky prog, with antique synths, rattling pianos and a ceasless desire to keep the listener alert. Their following album, Rehearsing My Choir, was a concept album about their grandmother, who also provided lead vocals. Enough said.

Staggeringly prolific, the band now has five albums and an EP under its belt (plus a double solo album from Matthew Friedberger) after just a few short years. This year, for the first time since their debut, they have opted not to release a studio album.

Instead, they have released a double live album, Remember. But quite what you should expect from a live album from The Fiery Furnaces? Their live shows (although, regrettably, I’ve not been lucky enough to see them live yet) are famous for the radical reinventions of their songs, setting the words of one song to the melody of another, chopping their songs into little bits and creating one long medley, and so on. This promises the audience something a bit more than the sort of experience you might get by putting the album on a loud stereo and standing among a bunch of sweaty men who are intent on spilling beer all over you. You’ve got to admire a live act for putting a bit of effort into mixing things up a bit.

The only thing predictable about a Fiery Furnaces live album is that they would do something weird. Weird move number one was to eschew a standard tracklisting, instead listing six ‘suites’ and inviting you to guess the tracklisting for yourself and check a website later to see if you were right. I guess that at least replicates the live experience, where you are not sure what the setlist will have in store for you.

But that wasn’t all. When you start listening to the album, it is quickly clear that there is something not quite right. The first track proper, ‘Blueberry Boat’, contains a number of jarring switches in sound quality. It transpires that the “live album” that you hear on the CD has been spliced together from at least four different recordings, even to the point where songs are interrupted in their prime to switch rendition. Quality ranges from song to song and even within songs, from soundboard quality to bootleg without warning. Well, the liner notes do warn, “Please do not attempt to listen to all at once.”

Even though it takes a bit of time to get used to, it is not as annoying as you might think. What the purpose of this experiment was is not clear to me. But the decision to include a number of different recordings does at least mean that the album documents a full overview of the Fiery Furnaces live experience, with tracks spanning the band’s whole career.

As you might expect, not all of the live versions of the tracks sound as good as the studio-recorded album versions. But some of them are. Besides, what is really great about Remember is that it is not just another live album, where you could just add some canned crowd noise onto the studio album you already own. This is almost like hearing 52 brand new songs. Strangely familiar, yet different enough to provide a completely new experience.

Typically, despite the ostensibly painstakingly-created edits, the album keeps some of the band’s live guff-ups in tact. In fact, very near the start of the album we hear singer Eleanor Friedberger forgetting the lyrics and practically holding a committee meeting with her brother as they try to remember what comes next. It fits in with The Fiery Furnaces aesthetic — equal parts grand and shambolic.

Wonky prog, remember? Each of their albums sounds like an attempt to make Kid A with the cheapest, oldest equipment going. It’s all part of the band’s charm, and it’s good for that kind of attitude to continue even in the manner in which Remember has been edited.

So full marks to The Fiery Furnaces. Even though the strange editing has alientated some, I think the album is an excellent document of the band’s capabilities as a live act. It has provided me with a taste of some of their excellent live versions (I especially love ‘Single Again’ and ‘The Garfield El’). I am now eager to see them live whenever they next come near my neck of the woods.

Well, last year I looked at some reissues as well, so I thought I’d do that this year as well. I wasn’t joking when I said I might not get this list finished until February. This is in alphabetical order.

Seefeel — Quique (Redux Edition)

This is nice. This forgotten shoegaze / techno crossover classic got a re-release for seemingly no particular reason. Not even an anniversary. If they’d waited until 2008 they could have done it for the fifteenth anniversary. I guess that for whatever reason they felt like the time was right to reissue it last year.

Scottish readers may be wondering, and I can confirm — this album’s title rhymes with ‘keech’. But the music itself is anything but.

This ‘redux’ edition comes with a full second CD of lost extra goodies. Tracks that inexplicably never made an album as well as alternate versions and remixes come included. My particular favourite — of both discs — is ‘Clique’. Why did this not make the album? It should have been a single!

Quique has a gentle ambient approach, like a wall or ocean of sound. I personally prefer the heavier, darker, more industrial sound of their follow-up, Succour. But Quique is nevertheless a fine album, and I’m happy to have picked up this double disc joy.

The Knife — Silent Shout (Deluxe Edition)

I missed this one first time around. Wasn’t quite interested enough. But when it was re-released as a three disc package I went for it. Maybe I was right first time round.

It’s actually a fairly good album. There are some good tunes. But I was disappointed. Given the rave reviews the album got, I very much found it a damp squib. Good to listen to from time to time though.

Maybe part of the problem is that I already knew one of this album’s tracks quite well. For that reason it suffers from that problem where one song seems to tower over the rest of the album. Even knowledge of this problem hasn’t prevented me from feeling a bit disappointed though.

The new extra discs give me much the same feeling. One is a DVD of a concert performance (An Audio Visual Experience) and all of The Knife’s videos. The other is a CD with the audio of the concert performance.

On CD it sounds quite good. About the same standard of Silent Shout. But watch the DVD and it just looks a bit ridiculous. It is about as live as Princess Diana. The vocals seem to be live, but that other guy clearly doesn’t know what to do with himself. If somebody is making that music live, it certainly isn’t him.

I’d love to believe that waving a couple of ridiculous looking glowing sticks in a pseudo-rhythmic (and often not even in sync with the music) manner is making all of those sounds. But I get the feeling that that awesome instrument hasn’t been invented yet.

I know that live electronic music is a bit of a grey area. But seriously. I prefer the “look like you’re checking your email” approach. At least that is less pretentious.

I enjoyed the music videos though. I will probably check out some of their older stuff if I see it going cheap somewhere.


White Noise — An Electric Storm (digitally remastered)

Already this has become one of my favourite albums of electronic music. I am absolutely in awe of it. Having read about the techniques used to make it, and just the sheer fact that it was so visionary, I really think this ought to be more famous than it is.

I have already written a suitably gushing review of it. I had forgotten how long it was. All those words and not a single comment! Gah.

That’s yer lot. Incidentally, I have been linking to my original impressions of the albums I have been listing in this series. But there was also a post where I wrote about 12 of them — a kind of mid-year roundup. If you are interested, you can read it here. You will notice that I was actually near enough on time with that one. Ironic really, given how busy I was at the time…

Getting there slowly but surely. We might be two weeks into 2008, but that won’t stop me from looking back at 2007. By this rate it will be February before we get to the end of this list…

20. The Tuss — Rushup Edge

Whoever is responsible for this is at least a genius at generating hype. While the music is ostensibly by Brian and Karen Tregaskin, there are all sorts of clues that point towards this being the work of Richard D. James.

It’s difficult to imagine such an obscure record to make the pages of The Guardian under normal circumstances, but the whiff of Aphex made it happen. And the sight of IDM spods on the internet excitedly polishing off their magnifying glasses (after The Campfire Headphase failed to contain any codes to crack) carried the hype overboard.

Of course, I had to buy it to see what all the fuss was about. Turns out the music is okay, and it certainly sounds like Aphex. I’d be very surprised if something this accomplished really was the work of a hitherto unheard-of duo based in deepest Cornwall.

19. Field Music — Tones of Town

Field Music are the least well known, but easily the best, of the triumvirate of artsy indie-rock bands from the north east of England (the other two bands being The Futureheads and Maxïmo Park). I have to admit to being a bit disappointed with this album at first, but as with previous Field Music records its wonders were revealed with repeated listens.

Their first album was a little delight that combined contemporary indie sensibilities with a liberal dose of syncopation, Beatles-style strings, some quasi-Steve Reich-style minimalism and little snatches of oddness. Tones of Town (while a bit on the short side) expanded on the template beautifully.

However, my highlight is a song that deviates slightly from the template: the more melancholic ‘Place Yourself’, a pleasant, reflective song.

Since the release of Tones of Town, Field Music have gone on hiatus as a band as we know it. But a solo project on Thrill Jockey is in the offing. I’m looking forward to hearing more of School of Language.

Video: ‘In Context’ — highly recommended viewing!

18. Scott Walker — And Who Shall Go to the Ball? And What Shall Go to the Ball?

Definitely the strangest release I got my hands on this year. Scott Walker wrote this music to accompany a contemporary dance piece. So we know what territory we are in here.

The music took some time to get used to, even for a fan of Scott Walker’s recent work. ‘Part 1′ really just consists of some electronic hums and some strange scraping sounds that sound a little bit like that noise people make before they exaggeratedly spit. This lasts for over three minutes, when some largely atonal strings come in, abruptly starting and stopping seemingly arbitrarily.

‘Part 2′ is no less weird, with a foreboding, driving, deep drum beat and string and horn sections squealing like an elephant in a particularly rhythmic distress. But the biggest surprise of them all isn’t to do with the music. Scott Walker’s distinctive voice does not make a single appearance in this entire work.

As you might guess, And Who Shall Go to the Ball?… takes some getting used to. I was certainly left feeling disappointed when I first heard it. But now I think it is quite good.

It certainly seems as though Mr. Walker is entering a rather prolific phase. In past decades you were lucky if Scott Walker brought out a new album every ten years. But hot on the heels of The Drift, he has been appearing on compilations and all sorts. Not to mention the other projects between Tilt and The Drift such as the Pola X soundtrack or producing Pulp’s We Love Life. Every year he seems to be doing a bit more than in the previous year. Here’s hoping.

17. Jonny Greenwood — There Will Be Blood

I think Jonny Greenwood is one of the most important musicians around at the moment. He is most famous for whacking around with guitars in Radiohead, but his solo music reveals him to be a highly accomplished composer as well.

The soundtrack to the film There Will Be Blood further cements this. The film is set in the early twentieth century, so there is not quite the same space for electronic experimentation as Jonny Greenwood had with Bodysong. What you get instead is a beautiful, melancholic mixture of piano, strings and ondes Martenot. The ondes Martenot is such a magical instrument, and it is used to great effect here.

Maybe I am getting carried away because Jonny Greenwood is a rock star. But I really think that ‘Eat Him By His Own Light’ is within touching distance of some of Erik Satie’s work.

The soundtrack contains a lot of work that Jonny Greenwood has done in his role as the BBC’s ‘composer in residence’. Notably, it contains excerpts of ‘Popcorn Superhet Receiver’. It is such a shame that ‘Smear’ — probably my favourite Jonny Greenwood piece — does not make an appearance as originally promised.

Unfortunately, not all of the music is engaging. Also, this album is only half an hour long even though Jonny Greenwood recorded two hours worth of music for the film. I suppose we should be grateful for the scraps, but the album ends without you realising it was even close to the end. Oh well.

16. Battles — Tonto+

I have to say that ‘Tonto’ wouldn’t have been my first choice as a single. Nothing against the song — it’s just a bit long-winded for a single. Mind you, my brother disagrees with me strongly on this!

There are no new tracks on the EP, although it is still quite a treat. After a disappointing remix of ‘Tonto’ by The Field, the seemingly omnipresent remixer Four Tet comes up with the goods. A remix of ‘Leyendecker’ by DJ Emz featuring Joell Ortiz is good enough, although it completely jars with the rest of the EP and the general Battles vibe.

Perhaps the best part of the EP, though, is two live tracks — performances of ‘Tonto’ and ‘Leyendecker’. I go on and on about how great Battles are live, and this is further proof. But as ‘Leyendecker’ winds down on this EP you can hear drummer John Stainer beginning ‘Race: In’, which just makes me desperate for a full live album of some sort. Make it happen!

Video: ‘Tonto’

15. Sigur Rós — Hvarf / Heim

A fair couple of mini-albums. I was getting a bit sick of Sigur Rós, but Hvarf / Heim won me over again.

Hvarf is basically a collection of old songs that never got released before, so it was never going to be a five star album. But nevertheless it is a good listen.

Heim is a more engaging listen. It is made up of some rather lovely live acoustic recordings of some of Sigur Rós’s best songs. The highlight is one of my favourite Sigur Rós songs, ‘Ágætis Byrjun’.

My original review of Hvarf / Heim

14. Air — Pocket Symphony

A reasonably pleasant album from Air. Not their best, but a good listen nonetheless. My main criticism with this album is that it sounds so similar to Talkie Walkie. So if you don’t like previous Air albums, it’s probably best to give Pocket Symphony a miss.

Even a collaboration with Jarvis Cocker feels like a missed opportunity. Another collaboration, ‘Somewhere Between Waking and Sleeping’, with Neil Hannon, is more successful — although it plays up to the stereotypes of ‘chill-out’ music. Nice song though.

There are some good songs — ‘Left Bank’ and ‘Mer du Japon’ are particular highlights. However, there is nothing approaching some of the killer songs they have come up with on previous albums.

If you like Air though, you will not be disappointed with Pocket Symphony.

13. Gescom — A1–D1

The mysterious Gescom collective resurfaces for the first time since 2003′s immense Iss:Sa. This new EP, A1–D1, appears to be a collection of six remixes, glitched up to the max.

The only one I can recognise is ‘B1′, which is a remix of Brian Eno + David Byrne’s ‘Come With Us’. It really highlights the spookier elements of the original song, which hadn’t really grabbed me before. It’s quite creepy to listen to really. One of those tracks to ban myself from listening to at night.

I haven’t heard of any of the other stuff that has been remixed for A1–D1, although people with a much better knowledge of the history of electronic dance music will apparently recognise them. It’s really groovy though.

‘A2′ is a good blast of messed up acid. ‘C1′ has a tantalising melody and jumpy beat that never seems to sit still (despite the fact that it doesn’t change much, if at all), leaving you wanting more. ‘C2′ starts off with one of the most dizzying soundscapes I have ever heard.

It is also being claimed by Skam that this is the world’s first ‘left-handed’ CD case. Yes, it opens the wrong way.

All-in-all, a really good Gescom release. I don’t know if the Autechre lads had anything to do with it, but it is nonetheless a good CD to have while we wait for Quaristice to come out.

12. Burial — Untrue

What I know about the fledgling dubstep genre could be written on the back of a postage stamp. It would say ‘Burial’ on it. I kept on reading about Burial. Somehow he has captured the attention of the chatterati, as I read more and more about him in places like The Guardian. Having seen ‘Burial’ written in too many end-of-year lists and ‘hear this before you die’ articles, I took the plunge and bought Untrue.

I had no real preconceptions. All I knew was that Burial was a ‘dubstep’ artist (dubstep being a relatively new kind of electronic music popular with Shoreditch types), and that he was fiercely anonymous to the point that “only five people know I make tunes“.

On first impressions I was a little underwhelmed. It sounded good, but it wasn’t quite what I was expecting. It was like a more experimental, sparse garage music. A bit like what Pole would sound like if he came from London.

I have to say, now that I am used to the sound I think it is fabulous. It sounds like it is from a futuristic urban dystopia. “London 2030, you’re the last man alive” sort of thing. A good accompaniment to last-night walks around town.

I don’t know if it will make me investigate the dubstep genre much further. It will certainly make me buy Burial’s first album at some point. Good stuff.

11. Modeselektor — Happy Birthday!

The latest Modeselektor album contains nothing revelatory. It certainly doesn’t grab me in the same way as their first album, Hello Mom!. And in a lot of ways, Happy Birthday! feels a lot like they are recycling old Modeselektor tunes.

However, I have still found myself enjoying this album immensely. ’2000007 (feat. TTC)’ particularly gets stuck in my head a lot. It is an excellent mix of great music and good humour.

The collaborations with Thom Yorke and Maxïmo Park are missed opportunities for me. And if you’re looking for something different to their first album, you’ll have to look elsewhere. But it’s nonetheless a thoroughly enjoyable and engaging listen.

I was beginning to lose my faith in Sigur Rós a bit. Takk… was a pretty good album, but lacked the oceanic beauty of Ágætis Byrjun, the novelty of ( ) and the experimentation of Von and Ba Ba Ti Ki Di Do. The most recent EP, Sæglópur, contained the most boring output I have ever heard Sigur Rós release.

Hvarf cover So I was not expecting too much from their latest release, Hvarf / Heim, a double CD. The Hvarf CD contains “new electric recordings”, although really it seems to be old leftover songs that never made it to an album.

‘Salka’ is nothing particularly special. ‘Í Gær’, meanwhile, sounds like it was specifically designed to be used on any television programmes that want to evoke a kind of creepy, wintery feel. That tuned percussion provides plenty of ammunition for those who have bemoan the use of same Sigur Rós songs on television over and over again. (‘Í Gær’ is the music used in the Heima trailer which I have embedded at the bottom of this post.)

However, it is good to see ‘Hjómalind’ (what used to be called ‘Rokklagið’) finally getting a proper release. But why not ‘Fönklagið’? It might not fit in with their current image, but I still think it’s a great, fun song.

The reworked version of ‘Von’ is also a pleasant listen. The new version of ‘Hafsól’ is fantastic as well, although was previously released as the B-side to ‘Hoppípolla’ so is not really anything new.

Heim cover Heim meanwhile is a disc of live acoustic recordings of classic Sigur Rós songs. The songs are inevitably a little bit stripped back and raw. Some of the performances were recorded in outdoor locations. In ‘Heysátan’ in particular you can hear the birds enjoying the performance.

Despite the stripped back nature of the album, long time collaborators Amiina perform alongside Sigur Rós, meaning that the band’s grand sound remains in some songs. After all, ‘Starálfur’ would be nothing without the string quartet.

But the best song on the disc is performed by Sigur Rós alone. ‘Ágætis Byrjun’ has long been my favourite song by the band, so it was always going to be a stand out for me on Heim. The original version is largely acoustic anyway, but there are still a couple of subtle differences. The piano almost takes its rightful place at the forefront.

Part of what I love about this song is the fact that most of it sounds beautiful, but dissonant notes briefly appear just after the climax of each chorus. I wonder why? “An all right (but not perfect) beginning” perhaps. Whatever, these bits stand out a lot more in this live version than on the album version, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

Heima cover But the best part of the tripartite alliterative Sigur Rós bonanza that hit the shops this month is the DVD of the film, Heima. It follows Sigur Rós touring Iceland, playing a series of free concerts in a diverse variety of locations.

Conventional concerts are documented. My favourite moment of these is at the start, where the band are performing ‘Sé Lest’. At the appropriate moment, a local brass band unexpectedly emerges from backstage to perform the brass part. But the moment is fleeting as the band walks between the members of Sigur Rós, climbs off the stage, makes its way through the audience members and out of the door.

As well as conventional concerts, the band also performs in some stranger places, such as an abandoned fish factory (where lead singer Jón Þór Birgisson and Amiina perform in a giant fish-oil tank, creating a peculiar audio resonance). The band also played a protest concert, performed without using any electricity, where a dam was being built at Snæfell.

The Icelandic tourism board must be cock-a-hoop. The film follows Sigur Rós, but it focuses as much on the scenery as it does on the band. The whole film has a beautiful visual style because of this. Heima will probably do more to advertise Iceland as a potential tourist location than anything else.

The film also follows Sigur Rós visiting some locations for pleasure. The best of these features is about Páll Stefánsson, who makes percussion instruments out of natural materials. The film shows Stefánsson tirelessly testing stones, checking the tone each makes, so that he can build a stone marimba. Sigur Rós later perform an improvisation on the makeshift instrument.

I was a bit apprehensive about buying the Heima DVD. I can never resist buying the limited edition if there is one, and this one cost £25. But with two discs (the second disc contains two hours worth of full performances of each song featured in the main film, spanning all four of their albums) and lush packaging, it feels worth it.

In fact, the artwork and packaging is a strong point of Heima and Hvarf / Heim. Both feature nostalgic-looking, treated photographs. They have been deliberately aged, with colours bleeding. It is similar to what Boards of Canada do, but I think the Sigur Rós artwork is even more evocative.

The limited edition DVD comes with a 116 page photo book. A lot of the photography is stunning — as good as the photography in the actual film. And, most importantly, the book itself smells wonderful (smell, I find, is one of the most important aspects of music packaging).

Now I find it incredible that I was actually reluctant or indifferent about buying these. I was becoming tired of Sigur Rós, but Hvarf / Heim and Heima have reminded me why I love the band so much. If you were swithering like me, I would advise you just to buy.

I went to see Battles a couple of weeks back. I already wrote about it the first time I saw them, so I won’t go on and on about it. Full reviews of the gig by Last.fm users are here and here.

In my view, this performance was even better than the one at Glasgow. It does feel a little bit like ‘Atlas’ overshadows the rest of the gig though! ‘Leyendecker’ was also quite an impressive performance.

There seemed to be a few technical issues. For some reason Ian Williams seemed to have problems with the looping, or the volume of his guitar or something. Show opener ‘Race: Out’ was ruined at first. The three guitarists quickly alternate turns playing twice a bar, but Ian Williams was too busy fixing his problem, leaving a big gap.

The impressive thing, though, was the way the band as a whole coped with the problem. Realising the performance was a dud, they just seamlessly started again near the beginning. I guess with all that technology involved, they must be pretty used to that sort of thing and they just took it in their stride. Many people probably did not even realise there was a problem (though they might have thought it was a bit long!).


Anyway, the point of this post is that Battles played at the Electric Proms last week. Tickets sold out before Battles were even added to the bill. The headliners? Editors. A slight mismatch perhaps. The wayward experimentalism of Battles was probably a bit of a shock to the system for the poor souls!

The full performance is available to watch on the BBC website until the 4th of November. There is a taste of what I saw when Battles were faced with a problem. Dave Konopka had problems with the start of ‘Tij’. Not to worry — quick-thinking drummer John Stainer just improvised a bit. Nobody will notice!