Outside it was a seemingly ordinary Thursday evening in early November, but inside the Tanz Cafe in Bryanston, there was an air of enchantment and expectation. A veritable who’s who of the music and media industries had turned up to join Paul E Flynn (Sugardrive) in celebrating the launch of his debut solo album Fields. The evening started with a screening of the video for the first single off the album, May God’s Work Resume. A delicate song which catches you off guard with its closing ode to love, the video portrayed this spirit well. It was filmed by Eban Olivier on location at his studio in Blairgowrie and in Delta Park, and features the model Hayley Rickard. Certainly the poignancy of the song is captured in the video, and the audience responded with glee. A great way to get things going. Naturally, it wouldn’t be a CD launch without a performance from the man of the hour, and Paul E Flynn and the Seeds of Doubt took to the stage after the video screening. They appeared to be energised by the magic of the evening, and once again held their audience mesmerised. Just to add an extra special element to the night, we were treated to guest appearances by Louise Carver, who appears on the album on Changed, and Cito of Wonderboom. By the end of the night I think all who were there had the warm sense of having been part of something beautiful and momentous in the musical fabric of our society.
I caught up with Paul before a show at Back2Basix the following night to chat about the new album, going solo, and basically whatever else popped into our heads:
Belinda Glenn: This project has been a long time in the making – how does it feel to have it finally reach fruition?
Paul E Flynn: I started writing the songs for Fields in early 2005. Sugardrive was playing at the time, but I already knew I wanted to do something on my own. It also happened to be a three month period during which I had no alcohol, and all I did was write. Maybe that wasn’t such a coincidence! I had no agenda – I just wrote and ended up with about 30 songs. Then I did nothing with them for almost a year. Later that year I met up with Theo Crous (Springbok Nude Girls) and he wanted to hear the songs. He phoned a few days later to say he loved them and then set to work getting the deal with Playdough Records organised. I went down to Cape Town and recorded the songs with Theo producing and the master was done by 2006. Still, I had no agenda and felt no pressure to release the album. There was all this talk about deals and I needed a break. I took time off in Ireland and it was six months without even touching a guitar. When I got back, the album was ready but I wanted a band to play the songs during shows with me. Live performances are what matter most. There was really no rush; I wanted to make sure I had the right chemistry with the band and that we’d be good live. The Seeds of Doubt (Sean Strydom, Donovan Campbell and Paulo Rego) formed, and we’ve done about 20 shows. The album was released about 3 months ago, and we only had the launch last night, so really it’s been a very relaxed process. I’m loving that it’s gone public now. It’s really cool. I know the different directions an album can take once it’s been released and I’m really relaxed about where we go with this. As long as I get to play shows, I’m happy.
BG: What would you tell people who haven’t heard it to expect from the album?
PF: It will take you on a journey. Each song is a story and they’re all very visual. It’s natural and raw-sounding, and has a lot of soul. I think when you’ve listened to it a few times it grows on you, into something of stature. I’m not going to say it sounds like this band or that artist. I hate that. I will say that this album’s about optimism. Sugardrive was far more investigative and surreal. This is uplifting. It’s cathartic.
BG: What are the pros and cons of going solo?
PF: Well, the obvious pro is that you have 100% creative control. I thoroughly enjoyed the idea of being able to hear something in my head and not having to consult anyone. I’m a bit of a loner so it really appealed. The other pro is that you can soak up every influence you like – even if you’re not a fan of a specific genre – and play with things in ways you couldn’t in a band. If you walked up to your drummer or bassist and said let’s play an electro-ska-reggae song, he’d just look at you like you were mad – this way I could do whatever I wanted. And the way I did it, I had total control of the way the tracks were laid down as well. Um. I sound like a control freak, I know! But you can definitely be crazier if you’re solo. On the other hand with a band you have a brotherhood that’s really great. And you don’t have to take the reins all the time – you can feed off others, which you can’t do if you’re solo. But I think now that I have the Seeds of Doubt, I have the best of both worlds.
BG: How does it work having the Seeds of Doubt playing with you after you’ve already recorded all the material?
PF: The album was recorded quite casually, using session musicians and guest artists like Louise Carver. Mostly everything was done by me and Theo. He’s really a fantastic producer and I managed to convince him to do backing vocals on a few of the songs as well. Since our first gig together, the band has just made the songs their own. I’m not too pedantic about it, and they really capture the feel of the album. I think they’ve found it difficult sometimes but I’m so happy with the way the live shows are going.
BG: Why did you call the album Fields?
PF: Fields was one of the first songs I wrote in 2005 and the lyrics really drove the song. They’re simplistic, yet there’s a depth there. That song directed the way the rest of the songs were written, and essentially is the reason the album sounds the way it does. It’s significant in that that was the way I was feeling at that time – “It’s alright to break your life, it’s alright to lose your mind” – and that’s why I chose it for the title.
BG: How did your time in Ireland affect you?
PF: The album was done already. I just needed a break from everything, music included. I had to get away from the claustrophobia I was feeling in South Africa. And I wanted to get in touch with my roots since I have grandparents from Ireland. I had no expectations of going there to pursue music. I wanted to start anew. But I didn’t make a big deal out of leaving because I knew it was almost inevitable that I’d be back again, I just didn’t know when. I took the time to re-identify with my soul and my being. I think it’s made me less cynical and more grown up. Probably a good thing!
BG: Your songs are always lyrically so evocative – to what extent are they autobiographical, and what else motivates you to write?
PF: Hmmm, I don’t think any of the songs are really autobiographical as such. More like points of view. May God’s Work Resume was totally stream of consciousness and at first the change at the end surprised even me – I wasn’t sure it would work at first. My lyrics are really based on my observations, on things that strike a chord. And they’re everyday things. I think the songs are prosaic and poetic at the same time. The main thing is that this album has a positive vibration. There are no dark places reflected in the lyrics. I’m often inspired to write by what I’ve seen on the road. You can be hypnotised by the landscape of different places as you stare out of a car window. There are always very visual elements in my lyrics.
BG: So, where to from here?
PF: Getting a new album out there is usually an 18 month process. We’ll keep doing lots of live shows. And I’m hoping to do some new songs with input from the guys in the band. We’ll release these online I think – not everything has to be an album now. Sugardrive will also be doing some shows again at the end of the year and are involved in the Do Band Up competition, which should be interesting. Basically I’m just going with the flow and keeping it simple.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
The Parlotones, Starsailor and Wonderboom – The Barnyard Theatre, Gateway, 27.10.08
There’s nothing quite like going to work on a Monday, knowing that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel in the form of a gig that night….it tends to make up for all those annoying little things we have to put up with that make giving up the weekend so much harder. Add to this the fact that we had organised our tickets for this gig in July, and you’ll appreciate the fact that it was much anticipated!
Originally Perez were meant to be the opening act for this event, but since Nic has left to join The Parlotones (more on that later), I guess they are no more. I’m strangely less devastated by this news than I was the first time they broke up. Must be all those new songs with only 3 words in the lyrics. Ahem. Anyway. Anyone who knows me will know I was, of course, super keen to hear that they had been replaced by Wonderboom. They were supposed to play at the Barnyard last year but the gig was cancelled so I wasn’t the only person excited about this turn of events. I should, in fairness, point out that it was not in fact the whole of Wonderboom performing on the night - Cito and Danny did their fabulous thing without the crazily talented Martin and Wade. Even though it was more like Wonderboom Lite, it was still a beautiful set. They stayed true to the mellow nature of most gigs at the Barnyard and this really gave the audience the opportunity to appreciate Cito’s soaring vocal skills. From his always haunting rendition of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah to the most exquisite version of Never Ever I’ve ever heard, their performance was spectacular and the crowd couldn’t get enough. Here’s hoping the whole band comes back for another performance soon.
Starsailor is one of those bands that you know you know. And you know you like. But you can’t for the life of you think of how you know them. Of course, as soon as they took to the stage my friend and I were like oooh, we know that song. And the next one. And the next one. They’ve been on the scene since 2000, and have had a series of hits in the UK, so I guess it makes sense that we would recognise their songs. They have an indie vibe with enough of a rock edge to keep them from falling into the melancholy of bands like Keane and are low key enough not to have the annoying swagger of the Oasis types. I thought it was pretty cool that Starsailor took on the role of support act to The Parlotones. It’s certainly likely that far more South Africans know who the latter band is, but still, not many internationals would be prepared to set the ego and the headline slot aside so readily. It is a reciprocal arrangement, as from what I hear, The Parlotones will be supporting Starsailor when they are next in the UK. The crowd certainly loved how much they seemed to be enjoying themselves on stage and every song was met with thunderous applause, especially their epic performance of the hit Four to the Floor. I enjoyed them so much that I wished I’d thought to bring extra cash with to buy some CDs. A truly great band that hasn’t let success or the requirements of the mainstream affect the music they make.
Last up was The Parlotones, without doubt the biggest musical export in SA at the moment, rightly or wrongly. It certainly makes sense to pair them with a band like Starsailor, as their sound is indie to its core, which is what I like about them. Their matching outfits and staccato movements are also the stuff indie kings like Franz Ferdinand are made of – they definitely commit to the genre. I have heard a lot of criticisms of this band, and in truth, when I first heard Here Comes a Man I thought they were exceptionally overrated. But they are more than that rather unfortunate choice of cover. Their other songs are remarkably well written and performed, with lyrics that often manage to be both poignant and catchy. If perhaps they now have something of the well-oiled machine about them, then maybe that is why they are trying to spice things up a bit by including a new member in the band. I must be honest though, Nic seems a bit wasted in this band. For someone of his vocal talent to be reduced to barely audible backing vocals, as well as keyboards and guitar, seems a real shame. Nonetheless, his presence added new depth to their sound. I think the best moment of this set, for me anyway, was when Danny of Wonderboom joined them on stage to play an extra set of drums during my favourite song, Bird in Flight. The Barnyard was virtually sold out, and apparently was for the next night’s show – no mean feat in Durban – and I don’t think there was a person there who wasn’t loving every minute of it. I think perhaps that sometimes, as members of the music loving community, we are so quick to deem a band ‘sold out’ or no longer hip enough, the instant they are not underground and living on peanut butter and jam toast. Yes, we do love our bands edgy, but sometimes we have to recognise that for any band to make it big, a certain slickness of performance is required….and kudos to The Parlotones for being able to deliver performances that get audiences raving across South Africa and abroad.
The only thing that distracted me from the performances was Kahn’s extraordinarily slim fitting pants – my friend and I spent a fair amount of time discussing how exactly one would get everything into such a crotch-huggingly tight pair of jeans (or were they leggings, we can’t be sure). We have no solutions. All I know is that I don’t usually get to see that much detail until at least the third date. Or after a bottle of tequila. Nonetheless, we had fun and all three bands were fantastic enough to merit the 3 months of anticipation!
Originally Perez were meant to be the opening act for this event, but since Nic has left to join The Parlotones (more on that later), I guess they are no more. I’m strangely less devastated by this news than I was the first time they broke up. Must be all those new songs with only 3 words in the lyrics. Ahem. Anyway. Anyone who knows me will know I was, of course, super keen to hear that they had been replaced by Wonderboom. They were supposed to play at the Barnyard last year but the gig was cancelled so I wasn’t the only person excited about this turn of events. I should, in fairness, point out that it was not in fact the whole of Wonderboom performing on the night - Cito and Danny did their fabulous thing without the crazily talented Martin and Wade. Even though it was more like Wonderboom Lite, it was still a beautiful set. They stayed true to the mellow nature of most gigs at the Barnyard and this really gave the audience the opportunity to appreciate Cito’s soaring vocal skills. From his always haunting rendition of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah to the most exquisite version of Never Ever I’ve ever heard, their performance was spectacular and the crowd couldn’t get enough. Here’s hoping the whole band comes back for another performance soon.
Starsailor is one of those bands that you know you know. And you know you like. But you can’t for the life of you think of how you know them. Of course, as soon as they took to the stage my friend and I were like oooh, we know that song. And the next one. And the next one. They’ve been on the scene since 2000, and have had a series of hits in the UK, so I guess it makes sense that we would recognise their songs. They have an indie vibe with enough of a rock edge to keep them from falling into the melancholy of bands like Keane and are low key enough not to have the annoying swagger of the Oasis types. I thought it was pretty cool that Starsailor took on the role of support act to The Parlotones. It’s certainly likely that far more South Africans know who the latter band is, but still, not many internationals would be prepared to set the ego and the headline slot aside so readily. It is a reciprocal arrangement, as from what I hear, The Parlotones will be supporting Starsailor when they are next in the UK. The crowd certainly loved how much they seemed to be enjoying themselves on stage and every song was met with thunderous applause, especially their epic performance of the hit Four to the Floor. I enjoyed them so much that I wished I’d thought to bring extra cash with to buy some CDs. A truly great band that hasn’t let success or the requirements of the mainstream affect the music they make.
Last up was The Parlotones, without doubt the biggest musical export in SA at the moment, rightly or wrongly. It certainly makes sense to pair them with a band like Starsailor, as their sound is indie to its core, which is what I like about them. Their matching outfits and staccato movements are also the stuff indie kings like Franz Ferdinand are made of – they definitely commit to the genre. I have heard a lot of criticisms of this band, and in truth, when I first heard Here Comes a Man I thought they were exceptionally overrated. But they are more than that rather unfortunate choice of cover. Their other songs are remarkably well written and performed, with lyrics that often manage to be both poignant and catchy. If perhaps they now have something of the well-oiled machine about them, then maybe that is why they are trying to spice things up a bit by including a new member in the band. I must be honest though, Nic seems a bit wasted in this band. For someone of his vocal talent to be reduced to barely audible backing vocals, as well as keyboards and guitar, seems a real shame. Nonetheless, his presence added new depth to their sound. I think the best moment of this set, for me anyway, was when Danny of Wonderboom joined them on stage to play an extra set of drums during my favourite song, Bird in Flight. The Barnyard was virtually sold out, and apparently was for the next night’s show – no mean feat in Durban – and I don’t think there was a person there who wasn’t loving every minute of it. I think perhaps that sometimes, as members of the music loving community, we are so quick to deem a band ‘sold out’ or no longer hip enough, the instant they are not underground and living on peanut butter and jam toast. Yes, we do love our bands edgy, but sometimes we have to recognise that for any band to make it big, a certain slickness of performance is required….and kudos to The Parlotones for being able to deliver performances that get audiences raving across South Africa and abroad.
The only thing that distracted me from the performances was Kahn’s extraordinarily slim fitting pants – my friend and I spent a fair amount of time discussing how exactly one would get everything into such a crotch-huggingly tight pair of jeans (or were they leggings, we can’t be sure). We have no solutions. All I know is that I don’t usually get to see that much detail until at least the third date. Or after a bottle of tequila. Nonetheless, we had fun and all three bands were fantastic enough to merit the 3 months of anticipation!
Baz Corden & Farryl Purkiss – Society, 12.10.08
Before I went to this gig I had something of a heated discussion with the Cape Town correspondent about my motives for attending. It occurred to me then that as much as I hate being labelled a groupie (guaranteed to get you a swift kick to the shins if you’re within striking distance), there is a flip side to that coin. It must really suck to be an artist and have people assume that the only reason anyone goes to watch you is because you happen to be good looking. So let the record reflect that while I like to randomly look at good looking guys as much as the next girl, I don’t spend money on their CDs or brave Florida Road on a Sunday night to do it!
Ahem. Now that I’ve had my little rant, let’s get down to what actually matters. The first artist to take to the stage in the intimate environs of Society on Sunday night was Baz Corden. Baz looks like one of the guys from Weezer and brings a quiet sense of humour to his performance. You have to really pay attention to what he’s saying but when you take a moment to listen you realise that for such a low key guy, he’s funny as hell. Last week the venue was so full I was practically snuggled into some stranger’s armpit….so it was a relief to have a little more room to breathe and to actually be able to see the stage. The atmosphere was a lot more relaxed with a lot of pretty people slouching artfully on expensive furniture, but the focus was still on what was happening musically. Baz provided some lovely chilled out sounds to lounge to, and his Tom Petty style vocals had some die-hard fans singing at full lung capacity. There’s no denying his remarkable talent and the gentle appeal of his songs, but I wasn’t blown away.
Farryl Purkiss was up next and he had Kieran Smith join him on stage on bass. They started off with a little jam session that, as one friend pointed out, brought to mind mystical Indian cities and yoga gurus. Interesting. And indeed there is something almost mystical about the hold Farryl has over his audiences. The wine glasses were set aside and once again we were transported far away from the dull concerns of the week that lay ahead. That’s part of the beauty of the Vintage Sunday Sessions - you get to cling to the notion that the weekend is not quite over yet, and delay the inevitable slap of reality that faces us all on a Monday morning. What better artist to hold us captive in that optimistic little bubble than Farryl, with his velvet tones and bittersweet melodies. When I first heard of him, he was being touted as our answer to Jack Johnson. And yes, he does have that languid surfer vibe going for him, but there’s a complexity and vitality that he brings to his music which rises above the comparison. He’s also completely down to earth and relaxed on stage, to the point of cracking jokes about doing his friend’s mom. We could all see the crimson glow of said friend’s blush from way in the back. Nice. For the last two songs, the legendary Nibs van der Spuy joined Farryl and Kieran on stage, much to the delight of the crowd. The perfect way to end a lovely show.
And so we wandered out into a balmy Durban night, our ears still filled with the luscious sounds of Farryl Purkiss and thoughts of the Monday morning meeting blissfully relegated to the backburner. What a pleasure.
Ahem. Now that I’ve had my little rant, let’s get down to what actually matters. The first artist to take to the stage in the intimate environs of Society on Sunday night was Baz Corden. Baz looks like one of the guys from Weezer and brings a quiet sense of humour to his performance. You have to really pay attention to what he’s saying but when you take a moment to listen you realise that for such a low key guy, he’s funny as hell. Last week the venue was so full I was practically snuggled into some stranger’s armpit….so it was a relief to have a little more room to breathe and to actually be able to see the stage. The atmosphere was a lot more relaxed with a lot of pretty people slouching artfully on expensive furniture, but the focus was still on what was happening musically. Baz provided some lovely chilled out sounds to lounge to, and his Tom Petty style vocals had some die-hard fans singing at full lung capacity. There’s no denying his remarkable talent and the gentle appeal of his songs, but I wasn’t blown away.
Farryl Purkiss was up next and he had Kieran Smith join him on stage on bass. They started off with a little jam session that, as one friend pointed out, brought to mind mystical Indian cities and yoga gurus. Interesting. And indeed there is something almost mystical about the hold Farryl has over his audiences. The wine glasses were set aside and once again we were transported far away from the dull concerns of the week that lay ahead. That’s part of the beauty of the Vintage Sunday Sessions - you get to cling to the notion that the weekend is not quite over yet, and delay the inevitable slap of reality that faces us all on a Monday morning. What better artist to hold us captive in that optimistic little bubble than Farryl, with his velvet tones and bittersweet melodies. When I first heard of him, he was being touted as our answer to Jack Johnson. And yes, he does have that languid surfer vibe going for him, but there’s a complexity and vitality that he brings to his music which rises above the comparison. He’s also completely down to earth and relaxed on stage, to the point of cracking jokes about doing his friend’s mom. We could all see the crimson glow of said friend’s blush from way in the back. Nice. For the last two songs, the legendary Nibs van der Spuy joined Farryl and Kieran on stage, much to the delight of the crowd. The perfect way to end a lovely show.
And so we wandered out into a balmy Durban night, our ears still filled with the luscious sounds of Farryl Purkiss and thoughts of the Monday morning meeting blissfully relegated to the backburner. What a pleasure.
Gonzo Republic and 340ml – Society, 05.10.08
On a rainy, rather blah Sunday night in Durban, when spring seems to have abandoned us, what better way to cure the pre-Monday blues than a great gig? We decided to head over to Society and check out the opening night of the Durban leg of the annual Levis Vintage Sundays series. For the uninitiated, this is a series of gigs which take place across the country, showcasing local talent at its acoustic best. And they’re free, which says a lot about Levis’ commitment to the industry and probably goes a long way to ensuring the series’ popularity in the current economic climate!
It’s a rare thing to see a band as wholly consumed by their music as Gonzo Republic. So consumed as to be almost alarming – I keep waiting for one of them to hurt themselves in their frenetic flailing around on stage. The lead singer seems like an unassuming guy when you see him around….fast forward to their performance and he yelps and growls as he shivers and shudders across the stage. Its one hell of a transformation. Their sound is a frenzied blend of funk and jazz – Jamiroquai on crack cocaine. Despite the weather – the first sign of rain is usually the death knell for a show in surf city – the place was packed, and the crowd were eating it up like ice cream on a summer’s day. Their style is perhaps not something I would listen to ordinarily but they are exceptionally good at what they do. They are definitely beloved by the Durban hipsters.
Five years ago 340ml were an enigmatic band from Mozambique who had just released their first album, Moving and were basing themselves in Jo’burg. It seemed like getting to see them perform was the Holy Grail for those in the know, as they were certainly elusive, at least in these parts of the country. They were lauded far and wide as the band to watch out for – a shining jewel from our dusty African shores, doing something a little different to all the other rock and nu-metal outfits. They’ve certainly earned their reputation, and I was really looking forward to seeing them again, having missed their album launch for Sorry for the Delay. Of course, I didn’t reckon on how many other people were looking forward to watching them, and in the end, I couldn’t see them at all. Luckily I could still hear them. Its hard to exactly pinpoint their brand of music – there’s a generous dose of reggae, a helping of dub and more than a few shots of sultry Latin rhythm mixed into a sonic cocktail that goes down easy and gets your hips swaying. The dreary rain outside was banished and instead we were whisked away to some tropical isle where barefooted girls and good looking boys serve you drinks with umbrellas in them. Bliss. And if the crowd lapped up Gonzo Republic, they positively inhaled the sweet sound of 340ml and exhaled in song so loud that at times the band could not be heard.
Eventually we had to leave that pleasant little isle and make our way back to the mundane world outside. But I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who held on to a little bit of that magic to make the work week less dull…we’re all thinking about scoring, at the midnight drive-in.
It’s a rare thing to see a band as wholly consumed by their music as Gonzo Republic. So consumed as to be almost alarming – I keep waiting for one of them to hurt themselves in their frenetic flailing around on stage. The lead singer seems like an unassuming guy when you see him around….fast forward to their performance and he yelps and growls as he shivers and shudders across the stage. Its one hell of a transformation. Their sound is a frenzied blend of funk and jazz – Jamiroquai on crack cocaine. Despite the weather – the first sign of rain is usually the death knell for a show in surf city – the place was packed, and the crowd were eating it up like ice cream on a summer’s day. Their style is perhaps not something I would listen to ordinarily but they are exceptionally good at what they do. They are definitely beloved by the Durban hipsters.
Five years ago 340ml were an enigmatic band from Mozambique who had just released their first album, Moving and were basing themselves in Jo’burg. It seemed like getting to see them perform was the Holy Grail for those in the know, as they were certainly elusive, at least in these parts of the country. They were lauded far and wide as the band to watch out for – a shining jewel from our dusty African shores, doing something a little different to all the other rock and nu-metal outfits. They’ve certainly earned their reputation, and I was really looking forward to seeing them again, having missed their album launch for Sorry for the Delay. Of course, I didn’t reckon on how many other people were looking forward to watching them, and in the end, I couldn’t see them at all. Luckily I could still hear them. Its hard to exactly pinpoint their brand of music – there’s a generous dose of reggae, a helping of dub and more than a few shots of sultry Latin rhythm mixed into a sonic cocktail that goes down easy and gets your hips swaying. The dreary rain outside was banished and instead we were whisked away to some tropical isle where barefooted girls and good looking boys serve you drinks with umbrellas in them. Bliss. And if the crowd lapped up Gonzo Republic, they positively inhaled the sweet sound of 340ml and exhaled in song so loud that at times the band could not be heard.
Eventually we had to leave that pleasant little isle and make our way back to the mundane world outside. But I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who held on to a little bit of that magic to make the work week less dull…we’re all thinking about scoring, at the midnight drive-in.
Solace & The One Night Stands – Burn, 03.10.08
The end of a horrendous week at work and the lure of the couch was strong. But I managed to convince myself that instead of sleep, what I actually needed was an indie party at Burn. Alas, this turned out to be something of a misnomer, what with my favourite DJ inexplicably playing things like Rage Against The Machine (cool, but not very indie), and what seemed like 30 people bouncing around inside a cavernous club…not much of a party vibe. Although the guy vomiting at the bar seemed to be having a grand old time.
Solace was the opening act for the evening and I had never heard of them before so I was pretty keen to check them out. The first song was awful, but I gave them the benefit of the doubt as the sound was playing up and the mic wasn’t working properly. I will give them kudos for not letting that affect their raw enthusiasm on stage and their eager desire to get the ‘crowd’ involved. Alas, the second song was no better. Someone needs to teach the vocalist that the purpose of a mic is to amplify your voice…therefore yelling into the mic is not only unnecessary, but it makes things really unpleasant for those who are trying to watch you. There was certainly nothing indie about Solace, unless you go back to the origins of the word and assume they are signed to an independent label. There seemed to be some technical ability amongst the other band members but it was overshadowed by a very mediocre front woman. They reminded me of Ketamine - the same try-too-hard rock chick lead singer with questionable ability and instantly forgettable songs. We adjourned to the bar after the third song with bleeding ears and high hopes for the next band. And it didn’t seem like much of the audience stuck around for their full set either.
The One Night Stands have been burning up the 5fm High 5 at 5 with their single Seconds. Very indie, super catchy, instantly likeable. That song alone was what dragged me away from a big night in with the couch and a good book. By the time the band took to the stage I was a little desperate for something to redeem the evening. I wish I could say they were awesome and that they made the whole trip worthwhile. But they weren’t. They were…okay. The first song was a slow and rather melancholy affair - kind of The Cure after they’d smoked a few too many buttons. Perhaps not the right way to start a set if you want to rev up a rather meagre audience. They picked up the tempo after that but I could tell they’d already lost my partner in crime as she stood there looking cheated. I was determined to find something to like and in truth they’re a likeable band. You can definitely hear the 80’s influence their bio brags about - their sound is very The Cure meets Joy Division. But alas, with the exception of Seconds their songs just don’t seem to hook you and reel you in. The bait is there but the follow through seems to be lacking. Nonetheless, we had a little dance to their hit and a good giggle at the goth girls doing their weird pelvic thrusty thing in the front, so maybe it was worth forgoing the couch after all. Maybe not.
Solace was the opening act for the evening and I had never heard of them before so I was pretty keen to check them out. The first song was awful, but I gave them the benefit of the doubt as the sound was playing up and the mic wasn’t working properly. I will give them kudos for not letting that affect their raw enthusiasm on stage and their eager desire to get the ‘crowd’ involved. Alas, the second song was no better. Someone needs to teach the vocalist that the purpose of a mic is to amplify your voice…therefore yelling into the mic is not only unnecessary, but it makes things really unpleasant for those who are trying to watch you. There was certainly nothing indie about Solace, unless you go back to the origins of the word and assume they are signed to an independent label. There seemed to be some technical ability amongst the other band members but it was overshadowed by a very mediocre front woman. They reminded me of Ketamine - the same try-too-hard rock chick lead singer with questionable ability and instantly forgettable songs. We adjourned to the bar after the third song with bleeding ears and high hopes for the next band. And it didn’t seem like much of the audience stuck around for their full set either.
The One Night Stands have been burning up the 5fm High 5 at 5 with their single Seconds. Very indie, super catchy, instantly likeable. That song alone was what dragged me away from a big night in with the couch and a good book. By the time the band took to the stage I was a little desperate for something to redeem the evening. I wish I could say they were awesome and that they made the whole trip worthwhile. But they weren’t. They were…okay. The first song was a slow and rather melancholy affair - kind of The Cure after they’d smoked a few too many buttons. Perhaps not the right way to start a set if you want to rev up a rather meagre audience. They picked up the tempo after that but I could tell they’d already lost my partner in crime as she stood there looking cheated. I was determined to find something to like and in truth they’re a likeable band. You can definitely hear the 80’s influence their bio brags about - their sound is very The Cure meets Joy Division. But alas, with the exception of Seconds their songs just don’t seem to hook you and reel you in. The bait is there but the follow through seems to be lacking. Nonetheless, we had a little dance to their hit and a good giggle at the goth girls doing their weird pelvic thrusty thing in the front, so maybe it was worth forgoing the couch after all. Maybe not.
Matthew van der Want – The Zulu Jazz Lounge, 20.09.08
Once, long ago, when I was all bright eyed and full of optimism, my boyfriend at the time declared Splashy Fen to be his weekend with the boys. Every year, I would pout and plead, and every year he would swan off into the mists of Underberg, returning smelly and dirty, full of tales of the wonderful bands he had seen. It’s a wonder we lasted as long as we did. The point of this is not to explain my current state of abject cynicism and commitment phobia, but rather, why I never got to see the phenomenal Matthew van der Want at any of the many Splashy Fens he played at. And then, when he returned to Durban a few years ago, my friends chose that day to get married. Inconsiderate. While the bride is smaller than me, I weighed up my odds, and realised she could probably take me….so decided against forgoing the reception in favour of the gig. It was a tough call. All this adds up to the fact that last night’s gig was a long time coming for me!
Matthew van der Want released his first album Turn On You in early 1996. With song titles like Jesus Goosestep, I’m pretty sure he realised it wasn’t destined for overnight commercial success. Which might explain why there were only 16 people at the gig last night. And no, this is not me exaggerating in another indictment of Durban’s general apathy. I counted. Yet I think the 16 of us who braved the rain and ignored the international siren call of Katie Melua (who actually cares how many bicycles there are in Beijing, really?!), were some of the luckiest people around last night. I’m not entirely sure Matthew enjoyed the intimacy of the gig (and I really hope he wasn’t getting a door deal!), but it certainly made it a very special experience for the audience. We got to boss him around and tell him when to take breaks, and how many songs to play, for starters.
It’s not easy, being the lone man on the stage, just him, his guitar and his voice – no band to hide behind, no stage antics to provide bravado. You either have it or you don’t. And the fact that during each song, the audience were held in place, like butterflies pinned to a collecting sheet, barely daring to breathe, is testimony to the fact that if anybody has it, Matthew does. He does dark and twisty in a way that makes me feel better about being the cynical bitch I am. His cutting insights into matters of the heart, and satirical take on the music industry have probably made him a few enemies, but anyone with an ounce of self respect or taste should not be able to deny the talent behind the fuck off attitude. He says what he thinks, but he does so with such frightening beauty that you can’t look away. It was a gig that was definitely worth the wait. And as I sat in the plush surrounds of The Zulu Jazz Lounge, watching Matthew bleed poetry underneath an alarming stuffed kudu head, I thought how lucky we are to still have musicians in this country who don’t feel compelled to play it safe to please the masses. His song Turn On You (my favourite) could be as much about what we do to our musicians with our Americanised expectations, as it could be about love:
”I feel so close to you, only a million miles away.
I look for someone else in you.
I find things worth keeping…I throw them all away
I’m on my own when I’m with you,
I turn you on I turn on you
And I don’t know what’s wrong with me,
The sting in my tail is all you feel”
I wish more people had made the effort to go to last night’s gig and experience an exquisite talent – but at the same time, a selfish little part of me is glad those of us who were there had it all to ourselves.
Matthew has a ‘best of’ CD out at the moment, which can be ordered off his website www.vanderwant-letcher.com
Matthew van der Want released his first album Turn On You in early 1996. With song titles like Jesus Goosestep, I’m pretty sure he realised it wasn’t destined for overnight commercial success. Which might explain why there were only 16 people at the gig last night. And no, this is not me exaggerating in another indictment of Durban’s general apathy. I counted. Yet I think the 16 of us who braved the rain and ignored the international siren call of Katie Melua (who actually cares how many bicycles there are in Beijing, really?!), were some of the luckiest people around last night. I’m not entirely sure Matthew enjoyed the intimacy of the gig (and I really hope he wasn’t getting a door deal!), but it certainly made it a very special experience for the audience. We got to boss him around and tell him when to take breaks, and how many songs to play, for starters.
It’s not easy, being the lone man on the stage, just him, his guitar and his voice – no band to hide behind, no stage antics to provide bravado. You either have it or you don’t. And the fact that during each song, the audience were held in place, like butterflies pinned to a collecting sheet, barely daring to breathe, is testimony to the fact that if anybody has it, Matthew does. He does dark and twisty in a way that makes me feel better about being the cynical bitch I am. His cutting insights into matters of the heart, and satirical take on the music industry have probably made him a few enemies, but anyone with an ounce of self respect or taste should not be able to deny the talent behind the fuck off attitude. He says what he thinks, but he does so with such frightening beauty that you can’t look away. It was a gig that was definitely worth the wait. And as I sat in the plush surrounds of The Zulu Jazz Lounge, watching Matthew bleed poetry underneath an alarming stuffed kudu head, I thought how lucky we are to still have musicians in this country who don’t feel compelled to play it safe to please the masses. His song Turn On You (my favourite) could be as much about what we do to our musicians with our Americanised expectations, as it could be about love:
”I feel so close to you, only a million miles away.
I look for someone else in you.
I find things worth keeping…I throw them all away
I’m on my own when I’m with you,
I turn you on I turn on you
And I don’t know what’s wrong with me,
The sting in my tail is all you feel”
I wish more people had made the effort to go to last night’s gig and experience an exquisite talent – but at the same time, a selfish little part of me is glad those of us who were there had it all to ourselves.
Matthew has a ‘best of’ CD out at the moment, which can be ordered off his website www.vanderwant-letcher.com
Counting Crows & Flat Stanley - ICC Arena, Durban, 08.06.08
There are some bands that capture the memories of a certain period in your life. The merest sound from bands such as these unleashes a torrent of Technicolor nostalgia. The Counting Crows are one of these bands for me, which is one reason this was my fifth trip to see them live. Of course the other reason would be the outstanding performance they deliver every time.
I was moderately surprised at the choice of Capetonians Flat Stanley as the support act. In theory, their style of gentle pop rock was in keeping with the tone of the evening. But for the most part they lack complexity, despite having an inordinate number of band members on stage, and I found their performance to be lacking in sparkle. The crowd appreciated fontman Andrew‘s humility and the band’s big hits like Treading Air were well received. If you’re looking for pleasant local pop-rock, these guys are certainly on top of their game. I just felt they needed to up that game somewhat in order to provide worthy support to a band of the Counting Crows’ calibre.
The Counting Crows released their seminal album August and Everything After in 1993. Their sound did not quite fit the grunge mould that was taking the scene by storm at that stage. Yet their manic depressive brand of country rock struck a chord, and August and Everything After sold millions of copies at whirlwind speed. Cut to 2008, and they have just released their 5th studio album, Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings. The album is an amalgam of rockier songs and more melodic numbers, based on the theme of Saturday night sinning and Sunday morning repenting.
The band has visited SA twice before, in 1999 and 2004, and amazingly enough always includes Durban on their itinerary, despite our reputation as being the only city that never sells out. Anyone who has listened to their live recordings will realize that they do not believe in performing exact replicas of the songs on the albums. They wend their way through the songs, taking the odd detour into what appears to be improvised territory, adding lyrics from other songs or making up new ones as they go along. This may be annoying to those who only know the radio hits, but for the true fans, it makes every gig a new and rich experience. Add to this the fact that Adam Duritz is a man in perpetual motion, one moment leaping off the monitors, the next crooning as he lies spread-eagle on the floor, and you’re in for a magical performance. Despite having visited us before, they did not make the mistake so many big bands make of only focusing on their new material. The 90 minute set contained fairly equal representation of all their albums, and even included the guaranteed crowd pleaser Mr Jones, which after 15 years, they must be heartily sick of playing. You’d never think it to watch them though.
My only complaint about the evening was the strangely low volume….I never want to be able to hear every conversation being held in the nearby vicinity while I’m trying to watch a band. Having a quiet performance tends to detract from the atmosphere of a show, and add to this the usual lacklustre response of the Durban audience, and you’re left with a tough crowd. Nonetheless, when the last song faded away, the folks of Durban called for more. And of course, the Counting Crows obliged.
Just before the final song of the encore, Adam Duritz shared some touching words with the crowd, spurring us on to take heart against the recent problems our country has been suffering. It was heart warming to see an artist take an interest in the country he was touring, without coming across in a smarmy Bono ‘heal the world’ kind of way. And that is the essence of what appeals about this band – genuine emotion and sincerity infuses everything they do. It’s hard not to like them.
I was moderately surprised at the choice of Capetonians Flat Stanley as the support act. In theory, their style of gentle pop rock was in keeping with the tone of the evening. But for the most part they lack complexity, despite having an inordinate number of band members on stage, and I found their performance to be lacking in sparkle. The crowd appreciated fontman Andrew‘s humility and the band’s big hits like Treading Air were well received. If you’re looking for pleasant local pop-rock, these guys are certainly on top of their game. I just felt they needed to up that game somewhat in order to provide worthy support to a band of the Counting Crows’ calibre.
The Counting Crows released their seminal album August and Everything After in 1993. Their sound did not quite fit the grunge mould that was taking the scene by storm at that stage. Yet their manic depressive brand of country rock struck a chord, and August and Everything After sold millions of copies at whirlwind speed. Cut to 2008, and they have just released their 5th studio album, Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings. The album is an amalgam of rockier songs and more melodic numbers, based on the theme of Saturday night sinning and Sunday morning repenting.
The band has visited SA twice before, in 1999 and 2004, and amazingly enough always includes Durban on their itinerary, despite our reputation as being the only city that never sells out. Anyone who has listened to their live recordings will realize that they do not believe in performing exact replicas of the songs on the albums. They wend their way through the songs, taking the odd detour into what appears to be improvised territory, adding lyrics from other songs or making up new ones as they go along. This may be annoying to those who only know the radio hits, but for the true fans, it makes every gig a new and rich experience. Add to this the fact that Adam Duritz is a man in perpetual motion, one moment leaping off the monitors, the next crooning as he lies spread-eagle on the floor, and you’re in for a magical performance. Despite having visited us before, they did not make the mistake so many big bands make of only focusing on their new material. The 90 minute set contained fairly equal representation of all their albums, and even included the guaranteed crowd pleaser Mr Jones, which after 15 years, they must be heartily sick of playing. You’d never think it to watch them though.
My only complaint about the evening was the strangely low volume….I never want to be able to hear every conversation being held in the nearby vicinity while I’m trying to watch a band. Having a quiet performance tends to detract from the atmosphere of a show, and add to this the usual lacklustre response of the Durban audience, and you’re left with a tough crowd. Nonetheless, when the last song faded away, the folks of Durban called for more. And of course, the Counting Crows obliged.
Just before the final song of the encore, Adam Duritz shared some touching words with the crowd, spurring us on to take heart against the recent problems our country has been suffering. It was heart warming to see an artist take an interest in the country he was touring, without coming across in a smarmy Bono ‘heal the world’ kind of way. And that is the essence of what appeals about this band – genuine emotion and sincerity infuses everything they do. It’s hard not to like them.
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