Scene Report: Cardiff April / May 2007
By: Sofie Jenkinson
You may think that the only thing really famous about April is its showers, jokes and the fact that it surprises you every year when it turns out to actually happen. Wrong. April is about picnics. Yes, picnics - not barbecues, for that is truly the sport of the J months. Picnics are great, because they really are what you make of them. Take Salmon, that soft cheese stuff and the correct blanket and it could be a way of getting into someone's pants disguised as a very fancy date. Take a load of mates, cheese sandwiches and a frizbee, and it's the most fun you've ever had on a patch of grass, one can hope.
Now here's another idea - take a most excellent live band such as The Rumble Strips (who will hopefully slide their way up the greasy pole of the music industry inch by inch as skillfully as any person holding a brass instrument can), add some alcohol and make it seem a bit like a treasure hunt by keeping the location a mystery, and wham bam you've got Kruger Magazine's Picnic in the Park.
This day really couldn't have been any better on the huzzah! scale (which is a real scale). Before the Strips nailed it, the day commenced with American Music Club, who are elusive in a weird sort of a way, but their deliberately played out emotive ramblings give them an incredibly valuable edge. I'm still not sure if I've ever seen them live, but I've definitely heard them live...
Later, Mark Ezitkel plays a stunning set at Clwb Ifor Bach for regular bringers of the par-tay Loose Club, who after Lesson No.1's impeccable track record, are probably the next best crew at getting the weirdest, whackiest, bestest artists to play in Cardiff. Therefore, rockfeedback salutes you all (especially Liz, who also somehow fits in being in The Loves and The School Band - phew!).
Peppering the still nippy horizon of our wonderful city in April were also the usual wanderers, sliding in and out of town on their national tours. Jack Penate treated many pairs of ears at a sold out Barfly on a Friday night, and Maximo Park took their chance to whip up a frenzy in the Great Hall, something which remained a little out of their reach when headlining the NME tour just over a year ago. How things change...
May was a swirl of late nights and looming essay deadlines, the consequence of which was many of us student types not attending as many of the nights adorned with musical notes in Cardiff as we'd have liked. The month of May did however bring with it the Dot to Dot festival, just a short hop, skip and jump over the border in Bristol. As a big hunk of metal trying to pass itself off as a ship lurches from side to side, a crowd gathered, milling about this nautical scene to check schedules before running off to other parts of the city. Kicking things off on my schedule was smashing little minstrel Kid Harpoon, taking it all the way from spit-shine staccato to fiery gypsy style rage. Although a little obvious at times, leaving some of the Gogol Bordelo tactics aside, he seems to add another facet to the already gleaming throng of British singer-songwriters.
Back to the boat for a bit of swaying around (where an important discovery is made: beer cures sea sickness) and Candie Payne. The atmosphere down in the bow is thick and sticky with the purple haze of hype. One glance to the stage sees Payne is noodling about in a mild jazz style, but a closer look shows how lifeless her eyes seem to be. Amidst the hype and the overwhelming aftertaste of James bond themes, Payne has a stunning voice, but it's passion she seems to lack today. Although with a crazy man with a full head of curly ginger hair inappropriately pogo-ing about half a meter in front of her face, it could just be fear oozing out of her pupils instead.
Up to the top deck next for more sea sickness remedies and a face full of kiwi punk kids Die! Die! Die!, who are heavy enough to send us plummeting 20,000 leagues under the sea, sideways. These hardworking little punkettes with fire in their bellies are as far away from home as they can be, though they're certainly more capable of ripping up a storm than even the most seasoned of hardcore punker over Cardiff way. Once past their vibrant full force and total sensory attack, it becomes clear that there are plenty of incredibly solid songs behind the front.
From kiwi punk to guitar-ruled British genius. Liquid talent like this does happen very often, but our very own Foals (nepotism alert - as you may know, they're signed to our sister label, Transgressive Records) have got it pegged exactly where they want it, letting glorious riff after riff roll on top of each other like birds in a howling gale. Igniting the crowd beneath them into some sort of convulsive rage, no one seems immune. Seemingly drawing on many lessons taught by punk kids before them, much like the aforementioned band, Foals take the rule and stretch it, only holding in place the incredibly tight set up between them and their beloved instruments, held like children to their bosom. This grandiose performance electrifies the entire room, and the same thought can be seen in the twinkle of every eye in the place - could this be the best new band in the country?
The one other thing that could not go unmentioned in May, the sole month where dancing around a pole is acceptable, is the fleeting visit of the living hip-hop legend Nas, who made his grand entrance to the Welsh stage at none other than the Cardiff Students' Union. The venue, especially for the event, wheeled out all it could find in terms of security, including a airport style metal detector. An interesting place for an event such as this, not only because of its size but also due to its overall quality, you'd think that the New York hip-hop heavyweight would not only sell it out but require somewhere of greater capacity and ambience...
None the less, the gig oozed with atmosphere, hundreds of hands continuously in the air beckoning their king to grace the stage. Nas' short but exhilarating set packed punch after punch, his music rolling out over the outstretched limbs as lyrics shouted out from every angle soon turned into a glut of rhythmic side steps, sending waves of electric energy running from foot to foot, hip to hip. It's not very often Cardiff, and certainly the Student's Union, see a gig this intense writhing within its walls, but Nas executed his show with precision and style that left no foot un-tapped. Being part of enthusiasm this amazing was certainly quite addictive, and put quite a beat in the step of many in town for the rest of their May days.