Out & about

Absolutely mind-blowing gig! As written for Spoonfed:

Let it be known that there’s a reason The Noisettes are named as they are. Forming in 2003 – Shingai (singer & bass), Dan (guitar) and Jamie (drums) – have been causing an almighty scene since their meeting at the Brit School. You may remember them from their infectious track ‘Don’t Upset The Rhythm (Go Baby Go)’, which was picked up for a Mazda 2 advert, and also crippled the charts this spring with heavy airplay, reaching the #2 chart spot.

Bringing an electro-hiphop vibe reminiscent of Santogold to proceedings is sassy South London hottie MPHO, an artist in her own right who is fast gaining recognition on this hybrid scene. Her tracks ‘Box N Locks’ and most recognisably ‘Fix Ya Face’ embody an unapologetic feisty attitude, combining singing with a Miss Dynamite-esque rapping. She even kindly offers an explanation of what a screw face gal is, for those needing to brush up on their saaf London slang. The crowd is pretty pumped, a mixture of bopping teenagers with a side portion of curious faced thirty-somethings.

As per usual the crowd are made to wait. Drummer, check. Guitarist, check. Backing singers, check. Shingai? Shingai, anyone? A moment of panic sweeps across the crowd, furrowed brows all around. Until a series of sharp gasps sweeps across the audience, heads raised and admittedly it takes me a while to work out what’s happening here. I spot a lady up on the balcony, thick ‘fro, the finest smooth legs, glitzy dress and a mic in hand. One leg over the side of the barrier, her pearly whites flash the crowd. Shingai has arrived.

Not one to do things by halves, Shingai is the very embodiment of versatility. Petite in frame with a highly recognisable ‘fro (complete with fruit tonight), Shingai’s energy is incomparable to other front women. After serenading the crowd from the balconies she bounds down the stairs, zooming across the stage with intense speed. Dressed in a killer black and red sparkly number, there’s no need for a crowd warm up – her energy is highly contagious. The title track to their album, ‘Wild Young Hearts’, complete with audience participation clapping, fires up the crowd nicely and Shingai looks like she’s hopping on hot coals – she seems to find it difficult to stay still.

The Noisettes are hard to pin down genre-wise. ‘Don’t Upset The Rhythm’ has an identifiably upbeat indie-rock feel. ‘Never Forget You’ finds Shingai’s voice suddenly age, producing a softer, bluesy feel as she crows ‘What ya drinking, rum or whiskey?’ Their style is genre busting and this is due not only to the group’s versatility, but also Shingai’s vocal range and energy. Whether she’s using the stage as her playground, the balcony to serenade, or even when she’s in the crowd, she commands attention, delivering a flawless high-energy performance, all the while backed by the band. And it wouldn’t be right to not mention the band – Dan plays guitar with his teeth, Jamie is lost in a fury on the drums, the backing dancers bump and grind and I’m sure I’ve spotted a few violinists and a celloist. Oh look, another costume change. Wonderful.

Tonight’s show is being filmed for a tribute to The Carpenters and their bands interpretation of the tragic track ‘Goodbye To Love’ is heartwarming and hopeful – difficult considering the song. Finishing with a T-Rex cover, it’s not long before the crowd are chanting in unison ‘you won’t fool children of the revolution’, before Shingai and her noisy troops shrink away, leaving a trail of silence as they go…

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I had the most wonderful opportunity to see Kate Walsh last week with O at The Tabernacle. Such a gorgeous venue, can’t believe I’ve not been there before! And Kate Walsh.. well, it brought back many a memory. Here’s the review for Spoonfed:

Notting Hill ‘s Tabernacle is a medium sized, quaint space with beautiful circular church-like qualities. The surrounding semi-circle balcony areas provide a clear, raised view, whilst the downstairs area is decked out with candle-lit tables – the first row just metres from the stage.

I’ve been a fan of Kate Walsh’s for quite a while. Her living in Brighton area where I spent six years creates a special affinity for me. Many of her songs, including the most popular – ‘Your Song’ – almost seem like the soundtrack to a few years of my life. It is intriguing to see playing live the person whose songs conjure so many personal memories. The crowd here are relaxed and calm and that could be something to do with the layout of the venue which provides clear views and enough space for everyone. There are no oddly placed barriers and the venue lacks over-zealous door staff – an indication of the serene atmosphere.

If you haven’t heard ‘Your Song’ at some point in your life, you’ve surely been hiding under a rock for a while. Walsh, like many other recent artists, began circulating her music on her MySpace page which earned a rapid response, building quite a fan base on her own. Her first album was recorded in a friend’s bedroom and aptly named ‘Tim’s House’. It shot straight to No. 1 album on the iTunes UK Store, knocking Take That off of the top spot.

Walsh is girlish and charming in her approach. Her voice is entirely like that on her records – warm and soft – which is refreshing among the many digitally perfected artists of today. There has always been a running theme of her songs, that of love, falling in love, and falling out of love. She handles these topics so delicately, also creating striking imagery of a childhood spent at seaside towns. The delivery of her songs is raw but simple – there is no stage character and no attitude. Each performance is delivered with an innocent sense of narrative, telling stories of love gained and love lost. A few of the songs she says are about ‘a lovely boy’, and after listening to the words, you understand why.

It comes as no surprise, since Walsh is a classically trained pianist, that we’re treated to an interlude featuring one of Claude Debussy’s cello sonatas. Walsh also announces that during each live tour she will be releasing an EP of covers, and tonight’s is a cover of Erasure’s ‘A Little Respect’. Stripped down with a beautiful piano backing by Walsh herself, she transforms the original upbeat track into something far more intimate. Even her track, ‘Tonight’, which she confesses is about one night stands conjures nothing but sweetness, unusual for a topic that is so often tainted with regret. The title track to her new album, ‘Light and Dark’, she mentions, is one of the saddest songs she’s ever wrote. But that’s in the past, she says, she’s much happier now. Her songs – sad or happy – have the amazing quality of leaving you dazed and introspective, as if staring up the stars on a warm Autumn night.

Walsh finishes with her classic, ‘Your Song’, which sends shivers down my spine. Its tangible observation of falling in love and pining for the beauty of another leaves the audience dumbstruck with love lethargy, pensive, and silent before the rapturous applause. With Kate running her own independent record label – Blueberry Pie – it seems that she could be around, on her own terms, for some time. With two beautifully crafted records under her belt, I simply can’t think of anything more welcoming.

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Another review for Spoonfed: Imelda May at Shepherd’s Bush Empire.

Imelda May, all quiffed and coiffured, is fast becoming a leading lady of rock and roll. Her distinctive voice and style, based predominantly on 50s rock & roll, rockabilly, and country and western is making waves on the wider music scene, and she already has her own cult following… After one swift twirl of the audience I’ve spotted at least a dozen peroxide top-curls, a lot of leopard print ladies and a whole loada Brylcreem on the fellas. It’s like Quiff City up in here!

As with many of Imelda’s gigs, the fan demographic is as varied as they come. From teeny-bopping rockabilly lovers to the more seasoned rock and roll admirers, this audience spans generously across age, race, gender and seemingly quiff size, too. Filling out Shepherd’s Bush with a pumped crowd marks the completion of a journey for May who began singing at the age of 16 in Dublin clubs. Her booming sass has since earnt her the Best Jazz Artist title from The Times and The Next Best Thing accolade from The Daily Mail.

As the lights dim and the crowd begins to cheer, a man takes to the stage, evidently not Imelda. Apologetic in stance and tone he begins to explain away… May has slipped a disc in her back, so she may not be on top form tonight, so cut her some slack and she’ll deliver the best she can. The crowd’s reactions behind me are mixed, with some petulant brats whining before being beaten back into appreciation by other, more supportive, members of the audience. When May does take to the stage we’re puzzled. She walks fine, she talks fine, and when she begins her set, she sure does sing fine. May’s voice is energetic and loud and she does wonderfully well at masking any pain or discomfort she could be in.

May has the full package, the whole shebang. Her voice is distinctive – with a rare twang of Irish showing through – and its power lends itself perfectly to track ‘Smotherin’ Me’ that makes use of May’s sassy and sometimes raspy qualities. She displays great vocal flexibility, toning the volume down for track ‘Meet You At The Moon’ – a cool, cloudy jazz lounge atmosphere settling across the crowd. A true chameleon, Imelda’s softer side lures you in with a drawl, before kicking you back with feline fierceness, all the while looking nothing less than sizzling.

Accompanied by her aptly named band (The Imelda May Band), the big sounds they provide match May’s booming voice perfectly. Imelda glides seamlessly across stage, bodhran in hand, hair slicked into perfection, tight animal print dress curving in all the right places. But don’t let her smooth style fool you, though. She’ll whip you back into shape in no time with a track like ‘Watcha Gonna Do’, whose interlude coos ‘Count my fingers, one, two, three. One in the middle, to you from me’… This lady’s definitely moving up, and knocking down anyone that dares to stand in her way.

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