Thursday, 11 March 2010

She spoke words that would melt in your hand, she spoke words of wisdom

You know the sinking feeling you get when it’s the end of your birthday or you’re back on the bus to the airport post holiday? I can’t seem to shake a slight sense of pessimism. My Bristol gig-going has stumbled to a halt and it’s time to stop burying my head in the sand and pretend like 10,000 words are going to write themselves. However, a bright ray of light was provided this morning by the visit of our Royal Monarch Elizabeth II and her hunk of a hubby, Prince Philip, who briefly shook Exeter out of its sleepy Thursday morning stupor in a flurry of gleaming Range Rovers and royal waves.

Our sovereign. God save the Queen.

It’s been a solid week. Four completely different acts crammed in over the space of 6 days; from the lushness of Passion Pit, to dirrrty remixes of Tinie Tempah by Utah Saints (swiftly moving on from the disappointment of Scratch Perverts), via mini mosh and MC-ing with Hadouken and signed off with a flourish in the form of new obsession, Two Door Cinema Club.

TDCC (for typing’s sake) are hotter than a hot dog being served up in blazing August heat; the 3 baby faced Bangor lads were snapped up by crème de la crème French label Kitsuné and have just released their debut album Tourist History to much critical acclaim and much spotify rotation. Their delicious blend of gleeful electropop featuring skittering guitar melodies and angelic vocals makes their music oh so moreish. I couldn’t bloody wait for them to take to the stage at the Thekla on Tuesday night.

First off, however, the buzzing crowd were treated to The Citadels, a London based group and slight Arcade Fire soundalikes who aren’t afraid of veering into “kooky” territory. I very much appreciated the keyboardist’s beautiful marine sequinned jacket.
Check them out at http://www.myspace.com/citadelsmusic

Now onto the good stuff. What can I say? Time flew by in a whirl of energy and vibrance eked out from frantically strung guitars, inciting mosh pit mayhem. Lead singer Alex Trimble’s delicate voice hung in the air as the guitarist and bassist kept up a thunderous melody of song; with the latter literally bounding off the walls as the other performed some adorable Busted-esque hops in his shadowy corner.


Glorious or what?


A-dorable


The album is an absolute treat and they sound a thousand times better live; test your tastebuds with the arching, slightly mournful This Is The Life.



Or….the carousing Come Back Home.




I got a serious case of “Man on Stage” syndrome. It happens to the best of us. And in this case the lucky recipient was none other than said boy band impersonator, guitarist Sam who charmed the socks off me with his slightly weak on stage banter and much twiddling of his knobs (lolz). Syndrome unabated I marched straight up to him post gig and a slightly one sided conversation ensued, following the classic opener “you dance like you’re in Busted.” I managed to get onto the subject of festivals and although he wasn’t at liberty to reveal any more than the fact they would be playing at Oxegen and T in the Park festivals, I can probably exclusively reveal that they will definitely NOT be playing Beach Break Live. Actually, this is 100 per cent for sure. Sam hadn’t even heard of it.

Our mate Sam with two of his adoring fans, Oli and Woz

In other news, they will also be participating in what must be my dream spring 2010 line up; a French tour supporting the gods that are Phoenix which takes a pitstop in my old Alpine stomping ground of Grenoble. Obviously I took the opportunity to liberally inform the poor sod of all the local tourist must-visits, including the grottiest Erasmus populated bar known to man, London Pub. Speaking of Phoenix, this song was played in that half an hour aural equivalent to no man’s land in the awkward space between support act and main band; words cannot describe to you my joy on hearing this, a song I’ve been trying to put a name to for years. You’ll probably recognise it from the Scar-Jo fest that was Lost in Translation; a warming, adorable ditty that demands to be put on repeat.



Twitter also provided this wee delight for me earlier; an adorable cover of the I Can Talk video made by consummate professionals.



Compare and contrast with the original:



There's nowt much more to say than that I'm bursting for festival season like a small child needs the toilet, and when I’ve finally got enough pennies they’re all going straight towards a precious Beach Break Ticket with a line up that looks set to rock the Welsh coastline to its rocky core; including the likes of the elusive Ellie Goulding and Chase and Status
See you down the front.

© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog

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