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Live gig review: Soul II Soul - Colston Hall, Bristol

Mainly thanks to their first two superlative albums, Jazzie B's Soul II Soul soundsystem have become something of a British institution. 

There was a lot of love for them here at this special 25th anniversary show celebrating their debut LP Club Classics Vol One. So much so, in fact, it papered over a few cracks.

There are still traces of their rough and ready DJ party days but they also attempt some soul show slickness with three choreographed backing singers. Unfortunately, it all rather falls between two stools, though, and there's a lack of coherence to the show overall. 

It's not helped by a sound mix that obliterates everything except the lead vocals, bass and drums. You'd be pretty clueless turning up to a Soul II Soul show and not expecting a huge bass-heavy rumble but it would have been nice to hear the two violinists, keyboard player and guitarist. 

Playing just 12 songs over the course of 70 minutes, the headline news, of course, was that their most famous vocalist Caron Wheeler was back in the fold. Her vocals on Keep On Movin', I Care and Missing You proved she still has one hell of a set of lungs and the latter song was elevated by the fact you could hear those trademark stabbing strings, too.

Jazzie B was a little slow out of the blocks and behind the beat with his rap on Get a Life, but this is a timeless tune that can't fail to raise a smile. MC Chickaboo brought some new songs to the table, too, including the ragga-tinged Bounce which proved to be an unexpected highlight.

There's confusion later on when Back To Life seemed to kick in unannounced at the wrong place in the set. After a few shrugs and baffled expressions they decide to plough on regardless but it's rather emblematic of a misfiring night.

Fairplay and Jazzie's Groove made for a great encore but this felt more like a festival set tasting menu rather than a full-on dining experience from a band with a lot more to offer.

Rating: 6/10 STEVE HARNELL

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Frazey Ford leads a musical double life. As founder member of Vancouver's Be Good Tanyas she trades in delicate country folk but her solo work sees her embracing classic Seventies Southern soul.

Namechecking Ann Peebles, Roberta Flack and Donny Hathaway as influences, her soulful allegiances were hinted at on 2010's debut solo album Obadiah but are much more explicit on its recent follow-up Indian Ocean were she employed Al Green's crack Hi Rhythm Section as backing band.

On the road, though, the studio arrangements are tweaked as her three-piece band The Quiet Revolution and two backing singers try to replicate that Memphis style. In particular, it's left to guitarist Craig MacCaul to fill in for the original organ sound on the record provided by the inimitable Charles Hodges. 

They do a fine job, too, allowing plenty of space for Ford to shine. Her impressionistic vocals are utterly unique. She almost gargles the words as she sings, rolling syllables around her mouth and twisting them into unusual, and sometimes unintelligible, new shapes. 

We began with the gently insistent You're Not Free and reflective If You Gonna Go which gradually built to an emotional peak. 

As Ford tells us, her songs range from chilled out to very chilled. In the main, that's absolutely fine but on the likes of the angry break-up track Done – expletives included – the relaxed vocal delivery does seem rather at odds with the lyrical content.

A funky Bird of Paradise was a mid-set highlight as was a cover of an often underappreciated gem in Bob Dylan's back catalogue, One More Cup of Coffee. There was space for just one Be Good Tanyas song in the setlist, the sublime Ootischenia. 

A bottom-heavy mix brought the work of bassist Darren Parris to the fore nicely, and elsewhere, the beefy sounding drums of Leon Power were the backbone of a superb Blue Streak Mama before the graceful title track of her new album eased us back into the brisk November night air.

Perhaps a bit too sleepy at times, this was nevertheless timeless soul given an enchanting new twist

7/10

STEVE HARNELL

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Live gig review: Roger McGuinn – St George's, Bristol

Roger McGuinn’s trademark guitar sound goes before him – at this gig, literally as well as figuratively.

Before we see the man himself, we hear his chiming 12-string Rickenbacker ringing out from backstage at St George’s. No introduction is needed as he strides out front and centre playing Dylan’s My Back Pages.

His Bobness looms large in the story of this founding member of The Byrds, of course, and has been a continual touchstone over the past half century of McGuinn’s career. And it’s hard to argue, too, against Roger being seen as the pre-eminent interpreter of his work.

Pinballing back and forth throughout his last half century, this was a very satisfying setlist which gave us the Byrds hits plus some more novel choices from the road less travelled.

He also treats us to tales of David Crosby, George Harrison, Gene Clark and how The Byrds’ sound was simply “folk put to a Beatle beat” and squarely aimed at hopping aboard the Fab Four gravy train. That sound has now gone on to have a life of its own, though, influencing everyone from Big Star to REM, and The La’s to Teenage Fanclub. Pop has indeed eaten itself.

Although that famous 12-string Rickenbacker pops up intermittently, McGuinn largely concentrates on his seven-string acoustic here. Yes, seven strings – he had an extra string added to make its midtones shimmer even more.

He takes to the acoustic for his two contributions to the Easy Rider soundtrack, or what he describes as “a little low budget biker flick that Peter Fonda put together”, The Ballad of Easy Rider and the country-tinged Wasn’t Born to Follow. Meanwhile, Dylan’s It’s Alright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding) is pure razzle dazzle and buoyed by lightning-sharp fingerpicking and tongue-twisting vocals.

We return to the Rickenbacker for the cute Mr Spaceman and McGuinn follows it with another space rock hippy classic, 5D (Fifth Dimension).

The Byrds never let the grass grow under their feet, continually mutating throughout a varied career. After their psychedelic phase they boldly ‘went country’ as evidenced here by the Woody Guthrie cover Pretty Boy Floyd and Dylan’s You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere – both from the superlative Sweetheart of the Rodeo album where Gram Parsons briefly crossed their paths.

This most low-key of rock icons is essentially a folkie at heart whose fascination with traditional songs remains undimmed. Flitting across genres, McGuinn then treated us to Rock Island Line – which perhaps didn’t have quite the fire and spark of the Lonnie Donegan version we’re most familiar with on this side of the Pond ­– alongside the much-covered St James Infirmary Blues and The Jolly Roger, the latter inspired by McGuinn spotting a group of local Bristol schoolchildren on 'Talk Like a Pirate Day'.

We dipped into his solo career for Russian Hill from his 1977 album Thunderbyrd before ending the first half with a copper-bottomed classic, Dylan’s Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door. McGuinn was there at the recording, he tells us proudly.

At times, of course, these well-worn stories sound like the talking heads segments from a BBC4 Friday night music documentary, but that’s fine by me. He’s earned it.

The jangling Rickenbacker returns for a stunning So You Want to be a Rock ‘n’ Roll Star while Tom Petty’s American Girl – a Byrds tribute in itself – gets a stylish acoustic makeover.

His ode to The Mamas and the Papas’ John Phillips, King of the Hill, is new to me but what follows certainly isn’t. McGuinn may have played Chestnut Mare 1,000 times before but you’d never guess that from the cheer joie de vivre with which he delivers it here tonight. Not even an apparent fireworks display outside can detract from an irresistible goosebump-inducing moment. Absolutely joyous.

We then leave the hits aside for a minute for a sea shanty and a dazzling instrumental which shines a light on his seven-string guitar’s unique sound.

A quick snippet of The Beatles’ I Want to Hold Your Hand is a precursor to The Water is Wide and McGuinn’s early co-write with Gene Clark, You Showed Me, which went on to become one of his most covered songs. I

And what can you say about a closing triple whammy of Mr Tambourine Man (both electric and acoustic versions), Eight Miles High and Turn! Turn! Turn!? These are gilt-edged classics and it was a privilege to see them played at such close quarters. I think the hairs on the back of my neck have only just returned to their natural state.

We’re sent on our way with the lilting Leave Her Johnny and May the Road Rise to Meet You – almost 30 songs in 100 minutes and pretty much all killer and no filler. No rock star posturing or self-indulgence, just a back catalogue full to bursting with tunes that sound as vital now as the day they were minted,

Rating: 8/10

Setlist My Back Pages  Ballad of Easy Rider  It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)  Wasn't Born to Follow  Mr Spaceman  5D (Fifth Dimension)  Pretty Boy Floyd  You Ain't Goin' Nowhere  Rock Island Line St. James Infirmary Blues  Russian Hill  Knockin' on Heaven's Door 

2nd Set: So You Want to be a Rock 'n' Roll Star  American Girl  King of the Hill  Chestnut Mare  Randy Dandy O!  Instrumental I Want to Hold Your Hand  The Water Is Wide  You Showed Me  Mr Tambourine Man  Mr Tambourine Man (electric)   Eight Miles High 

Encore: Turn! Turn! Turn!  Leave Her Johnny Leave Her  May the Road Rise to Meet You

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Live gig review: The Felice Brothers - The Fleece, Bristol

There are worse predicaments for a band to find themselves in than to have released a pair of gilt-edged classics as their first two albums, but for The Felice Brothers it seems to hang rather heavy on their shoulders.

With debut Tonight at the Arizona and their eponymously titled second album they perfectly recreated the sozzled, rough-around-the-edges atmosphere of Dylan's Basement Tapes and the first few albums of its backing players The Band.

Rightly or wrongly they may feel they’ve been tagged as a good-time party band – all stomping hoedowns and raucous midnight sing-alongs. That’s not entirely unjustified but you get the feeling it’s now irking them a little.

They’ve got a clutch of rollicking tunes in their armoury, but they were rather thin on the ground on a night where they seemed determined to show their artistic scope rather than go for the jugular.

They start strongly with the accordion-wielding James Felice leading a rousing rendition of Woody Guthrie’s Cumberland Gap. Likewise there’s an entertaining fiddle and accordion duel to spice up Lion – a standout from new album Favorite Waitress.

As expected, The Big Surprise artfully teeters on the brink of falling apart at any minute but has now been tweaked to allow lead singer Ian Felice to introduce a few more guitar solos than I recall from previous tours.

There’s a roar of approval for their classic murder ballad Whiskey in my Whiskey while the hearty knees-up of Cherry Licorice shows their new material hasn’t lost that old feisty spark.

It’s at this point though that they rather take their foot off the gas and the gig loses momentum a little.

A misfiring Honda Civic from their inconsistent experimental Celebration, Florida doesn’t quite work and White Limo similarly doesn’t get out of first gear. OK, enough of the lame motoring puns.

The stately ballad Silver in the Shadow comes to life when fiddler Greg Farley grabs a pair of kettle drum mallets and tries to thrash the David Estabrook's kit through the floor of the Fleece and the reflective Meadow of a Dream is the most successful of the downtempo tunes.

But while they’re proving their delicacy, melodicism and emotional reach, I’d still have preferred them to toss in a T for Texas or Run Chicken Run here in this middle section to pick us all up a tad.

Woman Next Door, Chinatown, Fire at the Pageant and the traditional John Hardy pass by rather unnoticed before we’re treated to the superb Ballad of Lou the Welterweight. “That was worth the price of the ticket alone,” says one punter behind me and he’s not wrong. It’s one of The Felice Brothers’ most striking story songs with all the attention to detail of a Tom Waits classic.

On the flipside here, though, the band are not the type to eternally run through a greatest hits cabaret set and their unpredictability has always been part of their attraction. Surprises like The Osborne Brothers’ Rocky Top are new to me and were hugely enjoyable.

Fan favourite Penn Station plays to their strengths as does the country vamp of Sail Away Ladies.

Of course, they’d never get away without playing their most famous tune, Frankie’s Gun, although they seem to have fallen out of love with it somewhat. They bring the night to an end with the plaintive Marie, a decent but hardly stellar addition to their back catalogue.

Their back catalogue is an embarrassment of riches, but this was a rather wilful setlist which never really recovered from a stodgy middle section. Rather than road-hardened, this most exhilarating of bands actually seemed a little road-weary. Steve Harnell 6/10

Setlist Cumberland Gap (Woody Guthrie cover) Lion  The Big Surprise  Whiskey In My Whiskey  Cherry Licorice  Saturday Night  Take This Bread  Honda Civic  White Limo  Silver in the Shadow  Meadow of a Dream  Woman Next Door  Chinatown  Fire at the Pageant  John Hardy (traditional cover) Ballad of Lou the Welterweight  Rocky Top (The Osborne Brothers cover) Penn Station  Sail Away Ladies 

Encore: Frankie's Gun  Marie

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Live gig review: Suede - O2 Academy Bristol

I’M repeating the words ‘absolute triumph’ as I leave the venue and that’s still rattling around my head the following morning ­– this show by the reunited Suede was very special indeed.

Of all the Brit rock institutions who’ve reconvened over the past few years, you could argue that it’s this classy Brett Anderson-led five-piece who’ve done it with the most integrity. They’ve succeeded where The Stone Roses, Blur, Pulp and Happy Mondays have come up a little short – it’s a radical concept called ‘releasing a new studio album’.

Bloodsports – which appeared in March – is a defiant new chapter in the band’s history and they’re clearly proud of it, confidently slotting in more than half of it here without any dip in the quality threshold.

They began though with the stately Pantomime Horse and Anderson’s soon on his knees wringing out every drop of emotion from the song. Then it’s straight onto a trio of newbies, the call to arms of Barriers, a rocking Snowblind and an outstanding It Starts and Ends with You which really is as good as anything they’ve put their name to.

By Filmstar, Anderson’s up on the monitors swinging his microphone around like a camp Roger Daltrey and having a ball. Trash prompts a mass singalong while Animal Nitrate and Heroine test the foundations underneath the Academy.

The first break comes nine songs in with the elegiac Sometimes I Feel I’ll Float Away and the brooding Sabotage.

We’re soon back to the more urgent likes of The Drowners and the glam rock riffage of b-side Killing of a Flashboy though. Breathy ballad The 2 of Us gets a rare airing and they follow it with an exhilarating So Young.

Anderson was quite frankly astonishing throughout. Gone are the cut-price Morrisseyisms and arrogance of the early days replaced with a hugely committed performance that completely engaged the audience. He does most of the heavy lifting with the band content to take a back seat. Guitarist Richard Oakes has a few scene-stealing moments but never attempts to share the limelight in the same way that the band’s original axe hero Bernard Butler did.

They’ve still got two of their biggest tunes up their sleeves, too. Oakes finally lets his inner rock monster off the leash for Metal Mickey and Beautiful Ones is quite sublime.

There’s just one song in the encore – New Generation. After all, the job was already done so why labour the point?

Forget about dewy-eyed nostalgia, Suede are very much in the moment. A barnstorming return.

10/10 STEVE HARNELL

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Album Review: Jonathan Wilson - Fanfare (Bella Union)

I'VE always been consistent on at least one point - if I’m a fan of  the original inspirations behind a band then it follows that I'll like the amalgam. That holds true for the first time I heard Definitely Maybe back in 1994 containing audacious nods to The Beatles, Sex Pistols and T Rex and it remains with Jonathan Wilson and his clear appropriation of Pink Floyd, Neil Young, Dylan and Dennis Wilson.

Many won’t be able to get past his fanboy tendencies and that’s absolutely fine, I can see their point. But now that the golden era of Laurel Canyon acts are now in their dotage and only occasionally produce anodyne AOR stodge at best, then why not turn to the new breed who can at least conjure up a facsimile of their best work?

Wilson’s now a prime mover and shaker in the LA music scene; something of a linkman between the past and present with his collaborations that have featured new kids on the block like Dawes and the old guard of Jackson Browne, Graham Nash, David Crosby and various members of Tom Petty’s Heartbreakers plus the occasional Black Crowe.

His Gentle Spirit debut of 2011 was outstanding despite being hamstrung by the kind of new age hippy dippy album cover that’s ten a penny on Glastonbury High Street. Hpwever, what was contained inside was high grade retro songsmithery and he’s continued it here with its follow-up Fanfare, a much more polished, lush affair.

The langourous string-laden opening title track certainly nods once more at Dennis Wilson’s high watermark on Pacific Ocean Blue until it breaks free with a skronking sax solo that rocks you back on your heels.

The pretty waltz intro of Dear Friend makes way for a blatant pinch from Dark Side of the Moon’s Breathe that’ll certainly give Floyd fans a chuckle in its sheer brazenness. I’m also liking the meandering wah wah solo that kicks it at the three-and-a-half minute mark and takes a full three minutes to resolve itself before moving onto a dramatic transitional section that’ll get you punching the air.

Her Hair is Growing Long opens as a beatific slice of folk whimsy before travelling over the border to South America to take on an almost Samba feel.

The country rock of Love to Love is a smart change of pace and wouldn’t be out of place on Ryan Adams’ Gold album or a previous Whiskeytown record. It’s even got a gratuitous Dylan impersonation on it. Thanks Jonathan.

The ghost of Dennis Wilson shuffles into sight for Future Vision once again before it switches mid-song into a perky keyboard tune complete with nifty studio trickery on some backing vocal swoops and a cracking solo.

We pause for breath on the slide guitar-flecked acoustic track Moses Pain. It’s a little anonymous although the anthemic coda is a nice touch.

Cecil Taylor features a stellar cast on backing vocals including the aforementioned trio of Graham Nash, David Crosby, Jackson Browne plus Father John Misty aka former Fleet Fox J Tillman. Crosby even weighs in with a trademark wordless vocal solo beamed in from his If I Could Only Remember My Name album. Fantastic.

This album’s Neil Young and Crazy Horse tribute comes courtesy of the loping Illumination. I can imagine it being a monster when played live. We’ll see later this year. Desert Trip is pretty piece of folky positive thinking but it’s soon overshadowed by the jazzy soulfulness of Fazon and its gorgeously fat bassline straight out of an early Seventies Marvin Gaye album.

There’s a decidedly Pink Floydish edge once again to the epic ballad Lovestrong, but it’s none the worse for that obviously. I’ll take David Gilmour impersonations all day long. The second half feels like an alternative version of Echoes from 1971’s Meddle.

It’s paired with the downbeat closer All The Way Down, which perhaps is a little too introspective and plodding for its own good.

That’s a small criticism, though, of what is at times an outstanding record. Wilson’s ‘Leader of the Laurel Canyon MkII’ tag is firmly consolidated on Fanfare. Yes, he wears his influences a little too obviously on his sleeve at times but at least he has impeccable taste.

8/10

STEVE HARNELL

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Live gig review: Crosby, Stills & Nash - Colston Hall, Bristol

“My parents told me to get a job,” says David Crosby. “My job in this band is to write the weird shit.”

OK, so that’s pretty much the gag that Croz told with old mucker Graham Nash when he last played the Colston Hall two years ago, but when you check out veteran rockers with more than a few miles on the clock, you have to expect a little pre-planned banter.

And if your calling card is a silky smooth three-part vocal harmony blend, it’s also not a given that you can still cut it more than 40 years on. Add to that the fact that Crosby, Stills & Nash have endured countless trials and tribulations in those ensuing decades and you realise that this was by no means the cosy classic rock proposition it might appear at first glance.

The trio do seem like a perfect combination of styles, not just in their vocal blend but in their songwriting. Stephen Stills provides the bluesy Southern rock grit, Nash crafts poppy gems and Crosby, when he can be arsed, is particularly good at the jazzy, expansive “weird shit”.

It’s Stills who faced the biggest challenge here. Various health issues have meant his vocals can now be wayward to say the least. Bizarrely, his falsetto was fine, it’s his mid-range which seemed more unpredictable. His guitar playing, on the other hand, made up for it with several scene-stealing turns.

Despite hoovering up the Gross National Product of Colombia in his darkest days, Crosby’s voice remains a thing of wonder. Nash, too, is in very fine fettle for someone who reminded us that he’s been playing the Colston Hall since his first outings with The Hollies back in 1962.

From 1968 to 1971, pretty much everything CSN touched turned to gold and it’s no surprise to discover vast swathes of this nigh-on three-hour set were mined from this rich seam of material.

They took turns to share the spotlight for an even-handed trio of openers. Stills kicked off with the intricate Carry On/Questions complete with inventive soloing.

They’re still not quite in top gear, though, and Marrakesh Express was a little sluggish as it made its way out of the station. Crosby – officially the most casual man in rock who only takes his hands out of his pockets when he has to play guitar – at least comes in with all guns blazing on a fiery Long Time Gone.

The vocal shortcomings of Stills were once again exposed on Southern Cross but the anthemic chorus got the band across the line.

They also managed to slip in a handful of new songs including Crosby’s Radio – a co-write with his son and keyboard player here James Raymond; Don’t Want Lies from Stills’s recent side project with his blues band The Rides and Nash’s Golden Days. Best of the bunch was the latter’s Burning For The Buddha, a politicised protest song about Tibetan monks.

Nash’s Cathedral – the highlight of a stodgy CSN album from 1977 which had seen them blasted out of the water by punk’s new breed – boasted a suitably hymnal organ intro before Stills returned “to his childhood” for Buffalo Springfield’s Bluebird. To these ears, it seemed a little disjointed as Stills hung on for dear life and threw down some improvised solos. The audience thought differently, though, with many giving him the first standing ovation of the night. That said, I’d put it down more to Springfield-related bon homie than the performance on the night.

Crosby’s Déjà Vu, now a centrepiece of the band’s set, afforded everyone including the five-piece backing band a slice of solo action in the spotlight. It’s also a rather hilarious demonstration of the democratic worthiness of the band as each applauded each other’s contribution like a Kenneth Branagh-style Luvviefest. Crosby, in particular, seems to like pointing a lot.

What a shame that both Love The One You’re With and Helplessly Hoping rather suffered from Stills’s waywardness. At least he did manage to haul it back with Treetop Flyer which proved to be an unexpected highlight.

It’s followed by a stunning one-two punch from Crosby and Nash – the a capella What Are Their Names and a breathtaking Guinnevere where you could hear a pin drop. Those were worth the price of admission alone (well, perhaps not, it was an eye-watering £75 a ticket).

Crosby’s saucy Byrds-era ode to love triangles, Triad, underwent a major funk overhaul – and was by no means as bad as that sounds – before Nash brought a collective tear to our eyes with the well-crafted Our House and Teach Your Children.

Almost Cut My Hair and Wooden Ships upped the ante and were positively scorching. Stills was outstanding on the latter.

The one-song encore knocked it out of the park. Suite: Judy Blue Eyes, complete with a nimble fingerpicked snatch of George Harrison’s Within You Without You from Sgt Pepper by Stills on acoustic guitar, was extraordinary.

There are a few rough edges nowadays to CSN for sure, but we’ll forgive them with a collective songbook packed to the gills of such grace and power.

8/10 STEVE HARNELL

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Gig review: Steve Winwood and band - Colston Hall, Bristol

Over the past 50 years, Steve Winwood has pretty much done it all. He’s served up blue-eyed soul and r’n’b as a teen prodigy with The Spencer Davis Group, produced a diverse mix of psychedelia, folk and jazz rock with Traffic, comfortably held his own with Eric Clapton in Blind Faith, jammed with Hendrix then reinvented himself as an Armani-suited synth pop veteran in the 80s.

As a stage performer, he’s a lesson in understatement. No rock star shapes were thrown here - this was all about the musicianship and some outstanding virtuosity from a talented additional four-piece band. A brief nod at the mic to the last 45 years he’s spent in the Cotswolds sufficed for what almost amounted to a hometown gig. With a voice like Winwood’s, though, he doesn’t have to worry about banter. His vocals sounded as vibrant as they did as a 15-year-old and his swooping vamps on Hammond organ packed a real punch.

Whatever Winwood era you gravitate towards, there was something for you here. This was a setlist that glided between the trademark ‘getting it together in the country’ hippy Traffic vibe of opener Rainmaker and funky mod r’n’b of I’m A Man to the languid Blind Faith classics Can’t Find My Way Home and Had To Cry Today.

The first Blind Faith track here saw Winwood swap to lead guitar for some fine bluesy soloing. He’s an under-rated guitarist and once again steers well clear of the usual axe hero histrionics.

If you wanted a snappy skim through the hits at breakneck speed then you were in for a rude awakening. Few clocked in at less than 10 minutes during a two-hour show which only included 14 songs.

Never afraid to stretch out, mid-era Traffic gem The Low Spark of High-Heeled Boys provided a centrepiece and boasted an impressive Carlos Santana-like solo from Brazilian guitarist Jose Neto. Hats off, too, for the inclusion of Empty Pages – another Traffic beauty.

The dire 80s production was ditched from his comeback hits Back in the High Life and Higher Love, the former finding Winwood on electric mandolin and reinventing the song into something resembling early Rod Stewart.

Sealing the muso deal was Light Up Or Leave Me Alone which featured extended solos from every band member. Sax player Paul Booth, who also provided flute and depped for Winwood on organ, blew his heart out here. Although solo sections are a remnant of the old school that we could probably now live without, Winwood’s backing band were a class act and worthy of such indulgence.

A closing trio of belters brought things back into sharper focus - the funky Keep On Running, the classic rock of Dear Mr Fantasy and mod swagger of Gimme Some Lovin.

From a very rare breed of genuine legends who eschew the usual clichés, Winwood’s all about the music. When you’ve got great tunes performed by superior players, you don’t need any other rock’n’roll bells and whistles.

8/10 STEVE HARNELL

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New Album Review: James Blake - Overgrown

Now I can't pretend to know what cutting edge electronica and dubstep sounds like nowadays, I'll leave that to the hipsters with a few less years on the clock.

But it seemed to me that the arrival of James Blake's debut album a couple of years back signalled the emergence of an artist with a very singular and unique musical vision.

His hushed, multi-layered vocals conjured up the intimacy of the first Bon Iver record along with the theatricality of Antony Hegarty. There was a bravery about the minimalism of those beats and arrangements.

Blake's star has been in the ascendant ever since and he's gone on to collaborate with Bon Iver's Justin Vernon and been given the seal of approval by his heroine, Joni Mitchell. 

So there's a good deal riding on this follow-up. Blake takes the expectations in his stride, refining and distilling the best elements of that debut and polishing up his songwriting craft. The headline news, of course, is the contributions from Brian Eno on Digital Lion and the Wu-Tang Clan's RZA on the standout Take A Fall On Me. This is still very much a James Blake record though with his quivering vocals taking centrestage pretty much throughout.

Joni Mitchell was an influence on the opening title track apparently, an introspective analysis on the pros and cons of fame: "I don't want to be a star, but a stone on the shore." It builds to a beautifully swelling middle section. A classic Blake trick of restraint and release that he's already proved to be the master of.

He's in full-on tremulous Antony Hegarty mode for I Am Sold, which revisits the debut album's motif of repeating snatched phrases before piling on the echo and distortion effects. It's a muted opening pair, but lays out Blake's introspective stall without compromise.

The pace picks up for Life Round Here, an ode to Blake's girlfriend, the LA-based Warpaint guitarist Theresa Wayman. Laying bare the neuroses behind trying to keep up a long-distance relationship. Yet again, another repeated motif dominates: "part-time love is the life we live, we're never done; everything feels like touchdown on a rainy day."

RZA's arrival on Take A Fall On Me provides a nice counterpoint, particularly his quirky Anglo-centric lyrics

"I wouldn't trade her smile for a million quid" and "fish and chips and vinegar/With a glass on cold stout or something similar."

Accept for the refrain: "I need you like I need satisfaction," it's a pretty oblique contribution. Another skewed love song to add to the Blake canon then.

You may have already heard the single Retrograde - it made number 10 in Denmark, after all. It's one of his strongest melodies and part of the middle section of the album that tiptoes up to the edge of the dancefloor. The Eno hook-up on the pulsing almost wholly instrumental Digital Lion features a cut and paste repetition of the title emerging then disappearing into the mix as well as a klaxon. Hands-in-the-air techno, it most certainly is not though. You'd be hard pressed to detect the fingerprints of Eno here though, although it's unfair to merely expect his trademarks soundscapes on everything he touches. He's far more than a one-trick pony. 

The delicate skeletal piano-led ballad Dim is another low-key delight that doesn't try too hard.

The slinky house rhythms of Voyeur up the ante once again although by this time you may tire a little of Blake's constant use of repetitive central vocal lines wandering in and out of the mix. If there's a flaw here then it's this dogged determination to pull off the same stylistic trick again and again.

There's more melancholia and introspection on the Our Love Comes Back which once again melds piano with electronica.

The Big Boi-sampling bonus track Every Day I Ran is a welcome injection of energy on another steadfastly downbeat collection from Blake. 

He claims that there is more light and shade this time around, but if that's so then the more upbeat moments come from outside sources. This may be as divisive as the first album, but it won't come as such a shock.

8/10

STEVE HARNELL

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Behold my amazing homemade Joy Division Oven Glove

Now this is a work of art - even if I am a bit biased. In homage to one of my favourite Manc miserablists and the Half Man Half Biscuit song of (almost) the same name, my wife has come up with this fantastic Joy Division Oven Glove. They're completely hand-stitched and homemade. The stitching took quite a while, but I think you'll agree it was totally worth the effort.

Twitter went nuts when I shared this last night and the positive feedback is still coming thick and fast. Now the question is, what does my missus Laura attempt next? Maybe a Tom Waits apron or Leonard Cohen slippers, maybe something Screamadelica-related. That'll look nice.

And for the uninitiated, here's the original Joy Division album cover and a link to the song that inspired Laura.

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Live comedy review: Tony Law at the Comedy Box, Bristol

"I enjoy the airport and the shuttle bus, not necessarily the hotel room at the end..." There you have it from the man himself - Tony Law's comedy is more about the journey than it is the destination. Willfully ripping up the rulebook, he certainly lives up to his billing from fellow comic Stewart Lee as "the Sherpa of stand-up." Eschewing punchlines for wild flights of surrealistic fancy, it's not easy to get down on paper exactly how Law makes it from A to B. He's certainly a force of nature on stage though and totally fearless, pushing his material into the kind of unchartered territory few of his contemporaries would dare consider. He's upfront about the lack of a linear narrative, too. After all, this show was titled Maximum Nonsense. His talent lies in off-the-wall frantic storytelling, mimicry and an odd timing that slightly brings to mind Harry Hill. So we’re treated to a mock autobiographical segment where Law reveals his pirate and Viking heritage as well as a story which starts in an uncomfortable dinner party and ends in deep space. Continually deconstructing his material throughout the course of the show, Law frequently commented on his own cult status, musing aloud what it would take to break into the mainstream then realising that his brain just isn’t wired in the same way as the arena-filling observational stand-ups of this world. There’s grit, too, behind the mock puzzlement, as the mean-spirited likes of Frankie Boyle were slapped down in spectacular fashion. If there’s any hint of regular material to be found then it’s during a brief routine about his twins but even that was skewed into something fantastical. That’s firmly blown out of the water though as the show builds to a sketch featuring several elephants arguing in a pub. Yes, really. And a final send-off saw the crowd waving their arms in the air from side to side as Law shone torches on plastic model elephants hung on wires from the ceiling. We won’t forget that in a hurry. If it wasn’t such a conventional punchline, you could say Tony is a Law unto himself. 8/10 STEVE HARNELL

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David Bowie - The Next Day album review

As comebacks go, Bowie’s return to the rock’n’roll fold after a decade of near silence has been a remarkable success.

The great man himself has kept his counsel, but he must be delighted with the overwhelmingly positive reaction to his guerrilla releases since the understated Where Are We Now? was unveiled to mark his 66th birthday on January 8.

Within hours, the internet was awash with predictions about what the forthcoming album The Next Day would sound like. A nostalgic look back at his Berlin glory years perhaps? Even an MOR collection of artful ballads was suggested.

Thankfully, producer Tony Visconti immediately set the record straight – the cracked, vulnerable Bowie heard on Where Are We Now? was a red herring. The remaining tracks on the album, we were told, included full-throttle rockers and finds Dame David on fine, unabashed form. It sounded promising…

While Visconti, of course, talked up the album as being something good enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with Bowie’s work in the 70s and his Scary Monsters high watermark of the early 80s, he wasn’t exaggerating that this was a discernible return to form.

Half a dozen listens to The Next Day confirms it’s a fine, diverse collection on which every Bowie fan which find at least a handful of premium grade tracks to get their teeth into.

He comes fairly tumbling out of the blocks with the aggressive title track. “Here I am, not quite dying, my body left to rot in a hollow tree…” he positively mocks those who thought his heart attack of 2004 had blown his flame out for good.

It’s a remarkable statement of intent with Bowie putting in a particularly passionate vocal performance.

In terms of trademark Bowie art rock, complete with skronking baritone sax, then the following track, Dirty Boys, ticks all of the right boxes. It boasts a classic middle eight, too, and an instantly hooky chorus. Earl Slick’s guitar lines are economical and very precisely played.

If there’s one surprise to these ears on The Next Day is that it’s two of the poppiest tracks that shine brightest. The slyly vituperative The Stars (Are Out Tonight) is a none too veiled attack on vacuous celebrity culture. It’s a real grower and (whisper it) boasts a singalong chorus. How very conformist.

Valentine’s Day is another straight ahead pop song, but none the worse for that. The Dame seems to be having real fun with the throwaway backing lyrics and there’s some great supporting guitar work as texture.

Less successful is Love Is Lost, where Bowie inhabits the character of a disturbed young woman. Zachary Alford’s drums steal the show on a tune slower than the rest to reveal its charms.

After the relatively frantic opening exchanges, Where Are We Now? offers up some respite and grows in stature with every listen. It’s no ‘Heroes’, let’s not get too carried away here, but the closing refrain of “As long as there's fire, As long as there's me, As long as there's you”  - as lyrically oblique as that might be – still packs a mighty emotional wallop thanks to Bowie’s delivery.

If You Can See Me, complete with speeded up chipmunk backing vocals, is the most obvious and successful return to peak period Bowie art rock. It’s an unrelenting steamroller of a track which rattles along at a million miles a minute. There’s still fire in his belly, for sure. Those who harrumphed at his mid-90s adoption of drum and bass with Earthling may at least get something from this.

The chiming I’d Rather Be High is another favourite. With a decided Britpop feel of chiming electric guitars and strummed acoustics, there’s a little Stone Roses shuffle to this knowing anti-war plea. The “I’d rather be fly…” line does sound a little odd coming from a pensioner, though, but certainly raises a smile as does the very camp Bowie payoff: “just remember duckies, everybody gets got…”

The baritone saxes are back for the 80s-sounding Boss of Me which returns us to the Ashes to Ashes era. I could have done without the slap bassline, and it’s one of few tracks here that feels like filler.

The mid-album drop-off continues with Dancing Out In Space. Driven by a finger-snapping amped up Motown backbeat drives it’s frothy but inconsequential fun.

Much stranger is another anti-war song, How Does The Grass Grow?, which follows it. Dropping in a vocal appropriation of The Shadows’ Apache is a memorable hook but I’m not too sure what Bowie was trying to accomplish with it.

The opening fuzz tone riff of (You Will) Set The World On Fire rocks you back on your heels and is the album’s heaviest moment. Leavened by another singalong chorus it seemingly tells the story of the Greenwich Village beat poet and folk scene of the early 60s although you have to scratch away pretty hard at the surface to reveal its true meaning. It’s another grandstanding, bravura vocal performance from Bowie, though, and a late highlight here.

Equally affecting is the emotive ballad You Feel So Lonely You Could Die – as overwrought as its title suggests. Hats off for the sheer cheek of including the shuffling Five Years drumbeat from Ziggy Stardust as a coda, too.

He rounds off with the blatant Scott Walker homage of Heat. Cut very much from the same cloth, Bowie and Walker make perfect bedfellows as feted pop stars turned art rock experimentalists. The song itself seems rather out of place from the rest of The Next Day. A square peg in a round hole. In a way, there’s a certain poeticism about that. Nothing then to ruin the legacy of one of the great back catalogues in rock and a healthy handful of gems to add to the canon. Oh, and let's not forget that if Tony Visconti is to be believed then there's another full album's worth of material already in the can. If those dozen or more songs are up to snuff then Bowie's Indian Summer is complete. Rating: 8/10 STEVE HARNELL

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James Blake - Retrograde

I'm a bit slow on the uptake here, but here's the new tune from James Blake. Looking forward to the new album, Overgrown, which comes out on April 8. Guests include Brian Eno and the Wu-Tang's RZA. What a pair. Apparently, RZA's track includes him waxing lyrical about fish and chips and stout. An early April Fool's Day joke perhaps? We'll find out. Tracklisting 'Overgrown' 'I Am Sold' 'Life Around Here' 'Take A Fall For Me' feat. RZA 'Retrograde' 'DLM' 'Digital Lion' feat. Brian Eno 'Voyeur' 'To The last' 'Our Love Comes Back'

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David Bowie: The Stars (Are Out Tonight) - video

After the low-key first song premiere, Bowie unveils the second song from The Next Day. Decent chorus, rockier guitars. Trademark Bowie and sure to be a grower.

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New Depeche Mode Song Heaven from upcoming album Delta Machine

Good news that the upcoming 13th Depeche Mode studio album Delta Machine harks back to Songs of Faith and Devotion and Violator. Jury's still out on the first track released, Heaven. A slow-burner, maybe it'll take a few listens...

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New Order: Reget - Sabres of Paradise Slow 'n' Lo remix

Remarkably, in a couple of months, this will be 20 years old. Perhaps my favourite remix of all time and one of New Order's greatest moments. Certainly a contender for best comeback single of all time. Also, a reminder just how great Andrew Weatherall was back in the day. Shame he didn't really go on to greater things after Screamadelica and this.

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Oasis: Falling Down - A Monstrous Psychedelic Bubble Mix by Amorphous Androgynous

I've still not tired of the Amorphous Androgynous remix of If I Had A Gun from Noel Gallagher's debut solo album after nine months of heavy rotation, so let's dig this one out of the archive, too.

This is where the knob-twiddling duo of Garry Cobain and Brian Dougans - better known as the Future Sound of London - appeared on the scene with the Gallaghers courtesy of this monumental remix of Falling Down from the last Oasis album, Dig Out Your Soul.

Stretching well past the 20-minute mark, it moves through several seperate movements and takes Oasis further out into the psychedelic stratosphere than ever before.

Onwards...