Music LIVE REVIEWS
FESTIVAL ROCKNESS Dores, Loch Ness, Fri 8–Sun 10 Jun ●●●●●
As you amble down the gentle hill where RockNess resides you can’t help but be struck by the landscape, nestled in a valley surrounded by greenery and looking out across the mighty Loch Ness. Despite the mist, it’s a sight that makes the trip up north worthwhile on its own. In terms of music, while there’s always a strong undercurrent of clubby sounds, in football speak, 2012’s line-up was a game of three halves. Starting folky, it went hands in the air trancetastic then ended in a squall of rock bluster. On paper the headliners – Mumford & Sons, Deadmau5 and Biffy Clyro – look like a clash of styles, but in reality it gave each day a distinct flavour.
On Friday, Mystery Jets, The Drums and Noah & The Whale all set the scene nicely with a tasteful balance of indie and nu-folk. Headliners Mumford still managed to steal the show with their mix of folksy fiddles and big plaintive choruses, although a few too many new songs took some of the wind out of their set.
Saturday was dance day, but for most, started
with a comic turn from Tim Minchin, ending stripped to the waist with his environmental anthem ‘Canvas Bag’. The Rapture’s punk funk got the crowd moving while DJ Fresh’s Fresh/ Live set up (full live band, MCs and singers) was cheesy but ridiculously entertaining. It was hard to resist the drum & bass clarion call that is ‘Louder’ or ‘The Power’. Justice brought the Gallic flair as they powered though their glam rock meets electro schtick to glorious effect. All ending with Deadmau5’s spectacular light show – shame about the music.
It will come as no surprise to anyone who has heard her group’s debut album, Feel it Break, that Katie Stelmanis’ stunning voice is central to the Austra live show. The Latvian-Canadian’s classical training is very much in evidence in the clear diction and formidable projection, balanced by a rawness and eccentricity at home in the synthy electro new wave territory her music inhabits.
Nile Rodgers and Chic helped get the party Aesthetically, too, she is the star of the show,
started on Sunday. It was hit after hit after hit, from the classic disco of ‘I’m Coming Out’ to the pop stylings of ‘Let’s Dance’. Friendly Fires kept things tropical despite the grey clouds, while Knife Party wheeled out their brand of lowest common denominator dubstep: a bass battering that was simply irresistible in a huge sweaty tent that bounced with every sonic assault. Biffy were the perfect climax to the weekend.
Big booming rock, complex time signatures, pyro, smoke and songs of the quality of opening double bill, ‘Mountains’ and ‘That Golden Rule’, lyrics and riffs being sung back en mass from the crowd. And the band even threw in several new tracks before thundering to a close with a monumental rendition of ‘The Captain’. (Henry Northmore)
resplendent in a white silk dress and flowing gold sequinned jacket, shuddering and writhing to the music as if possessed, at the point of climax, or both. At times, with her arms outstretched, she
resembles a puppet mistress directing the twin backing singers Romy and Sari Lightman, equally expressive in their movements on either side. If it all sounds a bit melodramatic, that’s because it is – but it suits the music, which is a crystalline headrush of swirling synths, urgent beats and magical keys, and all topped off with those gorgeous vocals. From a mournful wail to an operatic tour de
force to an angelic hum, they steal the show, as is only right. (Laura Ennor)
INDIE DANCE THE RAPTURE Liquid Room, Edinburgh, Tue 12 Jun ●●●●● ROCK GUNS N’ ROSES SECC, Glasgow, Fri 25 May ●●●●●
Are The Rapture a nostalgia act? After all, it’s now 13 years since their debut album Mirror placed them at the forefront of New York’s then- nascent dance-punk explosion, predating even LCD Soundsystem. The thin turn-out here – the balcony wasn’t even open – suggested their day is now behind them. But reassuringly, the furiously dancing Saturday night spirit they’d created by the end told the story of a band whose history has been one of evolution, quality and respect for the traditions of dance music.
A quartet again since the departure of Matt Safer prior to the recording of their last album and the addition of a new touring bassist, their set was frantic and excited, led by twitchily dancing Art Garfunkel lookalike Luke Jenner. From the sharp funk of ‘Get Myself Into It’ and ‘Whoo! Alright Yeh . . . Uh Huh’, to the nerve-shredding, PiL-like post- punk of ‘House of Jealous Lovers’ and ‘Echoes’, to the bittersweet euphoria of the new album’s ‘In the Grace of Your Love’ (the title track), ‘Sail Away’ and ‘How Deep is Your Love?’, this was a band firmly asserting their own vitality. They can hang around for good if they keep this up. (David Pollock)
Good old Axl Rose. Anyone concerned that his famous ability to rub people up the wrong way has evaporated as he enters his 50s would have had their faith restored during this leg of Guns n’ Roses’ arena tour. As he’s done at every other date this year, he kept the fans waiting . . . and waiting . . . Eventually he took to the stage at half ten for a show that finished three hours later, a pain-in-the-arse length for many here, despite the fact most seemed happy to go along with it. Get your head round the borderline effrontery of his timing choices and the fact this isn’t really Guns n’ Roses at all – at least, not if you’re expecting the long-departed Slash, Duff and co – and this was actually a fairly good value showbiz reenactment of the glory days, with classics like ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ and ‘Sweet Child o’ Mine’ all there, punctuated by overblown firework effects, and ‘November Rain’ benefiting from Axl’s still-potent chainsaw vocal. Why he saw the need to give each of his session player bandmates a solo spot was a mystery, though, as was our means of getting home when ‘Paradise City’ finally screeched to a halt in the wee hours. (Paul Little)
ELECTRO AUSTRA Sneaky Pete’s, Edinburgh, Tue 5 Jun ●●●●● ROCK/INDIE CLOUD NOTHINGS The Captain’s, Glasgow, Tue 5 Jun ●●●●●
Cloud Nothings’ progression from Ohioan teenager Dylan Baldi’s lo-fi bedroom project to an arm- flailing, ass-kicking twentysomething with live band has been a joy to watch. Nearly drowning in their own energy, the speed in delivery of material in the past few years, going from a scuzzy collection of EPs to fist-pumping pop rock, culminating in slightly darker, noisier territory on this year’s Attack on Memory, has shown both man and band discover and define their talents. Sadly, however, in stark contrast to the multiple
joyous two-minute jabs they doled out the last time they hit the Captain’s Rest (now The Captain’s) have been all but replaced by delay pedals and white noise. To think there’s no limit to this band’s potential is exciting, and most people here tonight want to watch them grow. But when they breach the ten-minute mark with underwhelming, unstructured noise, it threatens to overshadow what made them appealing in the first place – their mastery of brevity and the ability to pen catchy and affecting songs. That being said, traverse the wankery and newer gems such as ‘Cut You’ and ‘Wasted Days’ (the first half at least) still pack a punch. (Ryan Drever)