Bonnie Prince Billy & Trembling Bells

Listening to most of Bonnie Prince Billy's recorded output, a first time gig goer might be forgiven for expecting a quiet, reserved man, singing just barely above a whisper, with a rapt crowd hanging on every well placed silent pause in the music.

How different then the reality. Perhaps Will Oldham (aka Bonnie Prince Billy) is in fact a shy man, but he certain has no hang ups when it comes to dancing like a loon in love with the music in front of a few hundred people. As for pauses, well, apart from an acapella version of the folk traditional 'My husband's got no courage in him', there was barely a pause as Trembling Bells fully filled every track with a veritable wail of sound screaming out of their guitars. To be honest this was, in fact, more of a Trembling Bells gig as 'Riding' aside, nearly all the songs were written by TB's drummer Alex Neilson, as are most of those on their joint album 'The Marble Downs'. (He's clearly a prolific writer Mr Neilson, as he and his songs also featured in the support act - the lovely and entirely acapella group 'Muldoon's Picnic'.) Despite this BPB couldn't help but be the centre of attention with his madcap gyrations and incredibly distinctive vocal style. Also, while practically every song was a duet between Will and TB's Lavinia, he also seemed to get more than his fair share of memorable lines, to wit:
"As I rode out to Beachy Head,/ My live was a suicide note to Johnny Walker Red" or " I used to be your universe/ You're not even my Birmingham."

An utterly awesome gig.

What's this? A weekend? by Theo

Yep, despite our tiny budget and tiny toddler, we managed to make a weekend of it! Our dear friend Ayesha came up from London to spend Saturday with us and was an instant hit with Rosie (though of course they have met before).In the evening we splashed out on our lovely local babysitter allowing us to introduce Ayesha to one of our old haunts (The Folk House) and three of our favourite local singers - Roger Tarry, Annette Berlin and Caroline Martin.

Roger was as good as ever - we've been watching him play for getting on for 10 years now (Kate pointed out she doesn't think his hairstyle has changed in that whole period!) but it was the first time we've seen him sing with Caroline and a cellist in tow - haunting stuff.

Amazingly this was the first time we'd seen Annette playing as herself - we're more used to seeing her front noiseniks Big Joan - and indeed this was her first outing as a duo, with Suzie on piano, not that you could tell. There were some moments where you imagined other instruments would have filled out the songs more, but the harmonising was beautiful.

Finally the leading lady Caroline came on stage, launching a new album. I've been watching Caroline play for nearly 10 years too (and have even toured with her) and was wondering whether marriage and impending motherhood would have mellowed her. Nope! Still singing sparse, beautiful and delicious dark songs of gender danger. Love it!

Time warp - by Theo

"It's just like being at a gig from 4 years ago" said Suzy as we filed out of the Croft's backroom after an ear-drumming splitting set from Big Joan. With Kate and I not the only Bristol emigres returning to the gig-going fold, and many familiar faces on stage, last Saturday's line up of Bravo Brave Bats, Big Joan and Glis Glis really did make us feel like we were partying like it was 2007.

With my parents kindly staying over to babysit Rosie, Kate and I managed to get out for the weekend and see some live music at one of our early flirting grounds: The Croft. Arriving early, we hung out with Obaro and Suzy from Glis Glis before they sound-checked. My old promoting partner Anna arrived with Lou in tow, Annette from Big Joan joined us, and over the course of the evenings we managed to see more old pals than we had time to properly catch up with. Must. Get. Out. More.

The bands were all ace, as usual. I say that as, although we had only seen Big Joan before (many, many times), between Glis Glis and Bravo Brave Bats there were 3/4 of the sadly missed You & the Atom Bomb on stage. So it felt a bit "as usual". I really should write a gig review.... but I've got two lessons to plan for tomorrow, so I guess I'd better stop procrastinating and write those instead.

Gig- by Theo

Here was a first. Kate and I, who met and romanced each other at various live music venues across Bristol and beyond, venturing forth to our first gig together since Rosie's birth. With Aunty Hermione (Rosie's aunt - my sister) on babysitting duties Kate and I sallied forth to The Cube for Rachael Dadd's album launch. Typically, we forgot the camera!

Luckily we'd bought tickets as it was sold out - indeed we saw our friend Obaro as he got turned away. To be honest if we hadn't had tickets we might not have made it, as we'd had a tough night the night before and were both pretty knackered. Still we're very glad we did.

Kate Stables, aka This is the Kit, opened proceedings with a flurry of new songs plus a choice selection from her latest album "Wriggle out the Restless" which has been getting lots of play on BBC 6 Music. She was as captivating and charming as ever.

Kate and Rachael's music is well known to us as I regularly used to put them on bills back in my promoting days, but what followed was a completely novel experience for us in more ways than one. Ichi, Rachael's Japanese husband, entered the stage on stilts, to which various bells and shakers were attached, while playing a harmonica through a fantastically preposterous mustache. It got sillier from there on. Playing a variety of standard and non-standard instruments - including steel drum, trumpet, a home made lyre, a typewriter, a home made banjo (one of the stilts), balloons, ping pong balls and a drum machine - he quickly had the audience in hysterics especially when he added endearing falsetto word play over the top. Quite, quite surreal.

By now it was approaching 11 and Kate and I were practically propping each other up in our seats, so after 4 beautiful songs of Rachael's set we decided to make a discreet exit clutching her latest album to try to make up for what we missed.

We're back!

Yann Tiersen by Theo

One of the great things about our jobs is that we finish work at 9pm, whereas at my old job I finished at 10pm thus ruling out midweek musical fun. Even so, we still had to jump in a taxi to make it across town in time to catch Yann Tiersen at the Riveria, arriving too late for Matt Elliot's support slot. Never mind, as he was on stage playing with Yann anyway, along with two chums of ours from Bristol: Robin Allender and Dave Collingwood (formerly of Gravenhurst). It's a small world! Familiar as we are with seeing them play in front of 200 or 300 people (at most) it was a bit strange having them appear as blobs on the stage in front of a sold out crowd numbering well into the thousands as part of tour that has already taken in Beiruit, Athens and Barcelona.
Yann Tiersen is probably best known for his soundtrack to the hit film Amelie, but anyone turning up hoping to hear folksy, accordion led instrumentals would have been bitterly disappointed (especially as tickets were €22!) Instead their largely instrumental set was more post-rock than anything else, though pigeon-holing their sound really does it an injustice as there was way more to it than that. A solo violin piece from Yann was particularly captivating as well as some of the slow-build choral numbers involving the whole band on vocals. As the set consisted of unfamiliar tracks to us, we weren't quite as into it as some of the more enthusiastic members of the crowd but it was really enjoyable and never dull.

Despite the best efforts of the ruthlessly efficient security guards who were trying to herd everyone out as quickly as possibly we managed to get Dave's attention and Robin came out to rustle us back stage. They'd had a hell of a day, with their bus breaking down in Barcelona and having to catch last minute flights, but it was great to see them both. We spent an hour or so backstage, managed a few rusty French phrases, bewitched them with Kate's bump before we all piled in taxis to head our separate ways. The next day they were due to head off to Santiago and then back to France, whistle-stop visits seeing the insides of hotels, service stations and gig venues. It used to be my life. While I had a little twinge of nostalgia last night, I don't miss it!

Kate´s first Madrid gig

Kate's first gig in Madrid predictably went down a storm and resulted in the venue manager asking her back to play another concert; this despite the fact she only played two songs during the interlude between the main act's first and second sets!

Back when we first moved to Madrid, Kate replied to an ad placed by a guitarist in 'In Madrid', the English language what's on magazine. Through him she met Owain, with whom she's written a couple of songs, and through Owain, Jean-Bruce, a Gabonese singer-songwriter who immediately co-opted her into the fluctuating line up of Jean-Bruce and the Fangs.
Sadly, having been away for a couple of months, Kate had missed all the rehearsals but Jean-Bruce invited her to play a couple of her songs in between sets at a tiny little place called Pipo Cultura in Lavapies. More like a large sitting room in a crustie's flat than a bar, the tiny space was rammed - a big advantage of coopting lots of friends into a performance, it means you get a bigger audience! Jean-Bruce's sets were excellent, his songs easing from folk to soul, switching between English, Spanish and his native Fon. Kate picked a newish song 'Smile' and the old classic 'Dirty Bitch Tango', both of which went down really well with the mostly Spanish crowd despite the rather dodgy 'pa' (a guitar amp!). Here's to the next one.

A sculpture is a sculpture, marmelade is marmelade...

Obvious, yes? Maybe not - especially if the sculpture is either made of marmelade, or of marmelade. What they hell am I talking about? To find out you'll have to read my review of SJ Esau and The Wave Pictures @ Club Neu! last Saturday
http://www.the-fly.co.uk/words/reviews/live-reviews/4704/the-wave-pictures-&-sj-esau

We had spent the afternoon before hanging out with Mr Esau himself - Sam - as he's an old friend from Bristol and had very kindly played at our wedding; his songs had sound-tracked much of our journey around Europe last year. We showed him Plaza Major and the St Gines Chocolateria (a must!) and then met him later before the gig. Along with his Italian friend Nadia (who now lives in Segovia) we were about the only people at the gig who knew who he was, but he seemed to go down very well!

After the gig, it was our Spanish friend Jaime's birthday party; he's a busy boy and this was actually the first time we had managed to see him since the Pueblo Ingles week last year, so it was great to hang out with him again and meet his lovely wife Teresa. Belen, another Pueblo Ingles friend was there with our lovely Venezuelan friends David and Natalie in tow, so much fun was had in the little underground bar Jaime had booked for the occasion. A very lazy Sunday followed as a result!

Curry and cocktail combinations

Sitting in the park near our flat on another beautiful afternoon we got a text from our friend Belen offering us two tickets to see Sisters of Mercy. Tempting as this offer was we already had plans that evening to go and see one of Kate's colleagues perform in his funk band The Combinations. Besides, Kate was quick to point out, the hot, vampy-one was no longer in the band.

Naturally we couldn't spurn this kind offer out of hand, so we had to reply with a counter-offer - come for a curry! So Belen and our Venezuelan friends, Natalie and David, arrived (nearly on time) at Chez Berry-Salisbury for a couple of picante veggie curries with rice before we headed out en-masse to the gig venue in Calle Bernardino.

Our first gig in Madrid - a shocking statistic for two people who met at a gig and regularly used to attend 3 or 4 a week back in Bristol - was a mixed bag. The band sounded great, but the long, narrow shape of the bar, the low stage and press of people meant we could barely see them. Plus it seemed to be more of a social affair than a genuine collection of music fans. The place was clearly a refuge for English-teachers and previous Pueblo-Ingles participants. Kate's colleagues kept coming up to say "Hello", Belen renewed several old acquaintances and I ran into a couple of people I'd met the night before. Poor David and Natalie were a bit stranded!

As it hit midnight a collective decision to decamp somewhere less loud was made - if we were all bent on chatting then we should clearly be doing it somewhere where the ambient volume didn't require us to shout at each other. Wandering up the street a little way, the Spaniards wrapped up warm against the positively polar (18 degrees celsius) temperatures - I was in short sleeves - we discovered a Secret Garden just off Plaza Espana.

This beautiful little bar - El Jardin Secreto - was decked out in quasi-colonial style with wooden furniture, natural fibre ceilings and whirling fans and was also home to some of the most polite and helpful waiters we've encountered in Spain - Belen was almost in shock! They also had an astounding list of postres (puddings) and cocktails, so naturally we made a couple of selections. Our tongues wagged until late into the night before we finally had our traditional argument about who would pay the bill (we wanted to pay as the others had bought the drinks in the first bar, they wanted to pay as we had cooked - in the end I had to slip some 'petrol' money into Belen's coat) we headed home well satisfied after a lovely, impromptu night out.

Friday the F***ing 13th

The spooky business over the clock going cuckoo this morning should have alerted me to the fact that today was going to suck. It's Friday 13th after all!

Kate and I were eagerly awaiting the arrival of our first visitor in our new home, the lovely Ayesha, who was due to arrive from London at 11am today. It being Valentine's Day we'd arranged a date for her (!!) with one of my student's, Javier (well, he offered!) and we were planning a big night out tonight with a mixtures of Spanish and English friends. Unfortunately Ayesha missed her flight - not because she was late or anything, but because she couldn't find a representative of Ryanair in order to pay her airport tax. Grrrr!

She's probably arriving at 9pm on Saturday now - meaning we're going to miss the gig we'd planned to take her too where we were going to meet up with more Spanish and English friends.

Ironically enough, Murphy's Law is a topic I'm going to be teaching in class very soon....

Underground Railroad

http://www.the-fly.co.uk/words/reviews/live-reviews/3208/underground-railroad

We went up to Toulouse yesterday to see Underground Railroad a French band we know quite well; I once organised a UK tour for them. My review for The Fly is above - it was an ace show and wonderful to hang out with Raphael, Marion and JB again.

Turns out they are playing Barcelona next month - we'll probably see them there too!

Crippled Black Phoenix/On the Road

Last Night we went to see Crippled Black Phoenix at Pole Etudiant in Nantes - they were great and it was lovely to see Joe; Chipper, Matt et al. I reviewed it for The Fly:

"With eight people on stage there's a huge capacity for chaos, but instead this strange brew of old rock hands, Bristol noiseniks and a teenage drummer called Crippled Black Phoenix are carefully controlled. Justin Greaves' grand compositions weave their way around Joe Volk's pastoral lyricism, cutting from choral interludes to majestic, textured riffs to great washes of feedback with sympathetic ease. If The Fly was Art Monthly we'd make some apt comparisons to renowned painters of somber and portentous landscapes, but we're a music mag and know shit about art. We know what we like however. We like this."

It's a strange sensation being on the road. I figured originally it would be a little like being on tour and in some ways it is of course, but there are some rather crucial differences. For instance, you don't know where exactly you are going, what your itinerary is, or what you are going to do once you get there.

For a former tour manager, always used to setting out on the road with a firm route, timetable and ultimate aim in mind, this has been quite an adjustment to make and I don't feel I have yet made it. For instance, despite the fact I'm driving a mobile home that we can sleep in at the drop of a hat (or, rather, shift of some cushions) the idea of not knowing where we are going to stay goes against all my instincts and makes me quite edgy. When I was inter-railing around Europe aged 18 accommodation was always the first thing I sorted out upon arriving somewhere new; on this trip, partly because we've got our own bedroom on wheels, but also I suspect because we rarely seem to hit the road before 12, we've often been turning up to places without the first idea about where to stay/park. We're currently in a Cafe in La Rochelle, a very pretty old town that seems to have been Broadmeaded rather comprehensively, with a vague idea that we will find a campsite on Ile de Re but the lack of exactness in our plans is making me slightly tense. The fault here is entirely my own - my control-freakery refusing to be jettisoned along with the other remnants of the rat-race the we left behind when we quit our jobs. Hopefully it'll fade in time.

On the plus side, being away from everything that we know has made things more interesting for Kate and I; we are rediscovering each other again. When we were living in our cute little flat in Bristol, our understanding of each other was defined in part by our relationship to each other but also by what we did and who we were. Kate is no longer "Kate who reads the news" and "Kate who does Fine Tuned" or "Kate who sings in Hot Flush" or even "Kate who meets friends for lunch" or "Kate who makes my lunch for work" - Kate is now "Kate who is my wife and co-traveller". It's a whole new Kate who only I know and that makes me feel very special indeed.