Brixton Academy
Marina Vaizey
Armed American soldiers stand in the stone window frames of a ruined building in Berlin, curious and disturbing echoes of those classical statues that so often were used to add portentous significance to a facade; but here in a 1961 photograph by Don McCullin, they are overlooking, with some intensity, the East German military on the other side. The Wall has just been built.Chronicling another painful divide in 1964, McCullin photographed a distraught, silently screaming widow, a Turkish Cypriot victim of that civil war, as she is restrained and held by other women, in an oddly dignified Read more ...
david.cheal
Maybe my memory is playing tricks, but I seem to recall that Beirut had more of a swagger in their step, in their playing, and in their demeanour when I last saw them four years ago. It was at the Roundhouse, it was packed, and Zach Condon and his band were on an upward trajectory following the release of their acclaimed album, The Flying Club Cup; they moved with ease and oozed a sort of blowsy bonhomie.This time around, at a heaving Brixton Academy, they were noticeably less thrilling. There was nothing fundamentally wrong with their playing, with the gig, with the sound; it was all Read more ...
david.cheal
There are some glorious sounds to be heard in the world of music: a big band in full swing; a symphony orchestra in full flight; a gospel choir; the Hammond B3 organ. But to my mind there’s nothing quite like the sound of a line of electric guitars – not chugging along like the Quo or Lynyrd Skynyrd, but meshing, interweaving, thrumming, humming, threshing, shredding, screaming; like Mogwai.It’s more than 15 years since these five guys from Glasgow pioneered the largely instrumental form of music that’s become known as “post-rock”, a description that some may find pretentious but which seems Read more ...
david.cheal
I spent a long time waiting for this gig to take off, but eventually realised that it wasn’t going to happen. To begin with I thought the band were just pacing themselves, playing a slow-burning set that would eventually explode into life, opening with the modest thrum of “The Runaway”, and following it with the similarly restrained “Anyone’s Ghost” and “Mistaken for Strangers”. But in the end, although The National moved up through the gears and finished the show with a big warm finale, still, it all seemed a bit flat.The chief problem from what I could discern was that singer Matt Read more ...
david.cheal
My, haven’t they grown? In the several years (perhaps even a decade) since I last caught Placebo live, they’ve gone from being a scrawny three-piece with a somewhat thin sound – for much of the gig, I saw, they didn’t even have a bassist on stage – to become a properly equipped rock band with six on-stage members: here, on the first of two nights in south London, the band consisted of the regular trio, plus three side-persons on guitars, bass, keyboards and violin. They made quite a noise, blasting out satisfyingly slabby slices of sound.
And their stage show is impressive these days, too; Read more ...