Defeater, The Fleece Bristol, 19th January 2014

Please forgive me for I have sinned in neglecting the blog for a bit. Please forgive me for I shall sin again in trying to review a "hardcore" show (that's if I'm allowed to call it "hardcore"). I'm sure I'll only get better.

Last night I took a little trip to The Fleece in Bristol (heavy with a burrito in my belly) to see Defeater, supported by Goodtime Boys, More Than Life and Caspian. For me, seeing Defeater had been a long time coming and so the other bands didn't really matter. Goodness knew what MTL were playing as they last released a record about four years ago and yet their merch is still eBay gold. The only thing I'd heard about Goodtime Boys is that one of the members was an ex-screamer from The Automatic (remember them?). I gave that a miss.

I wasn't sure what to expect from More Than Life but The Fleece seemed RAMMED to me. And yet, all I can say, is "meh". That's unfortunately, the very little I can say about them and their performance, apart from the fact that they sound a bit samey and one particular "breakdown" (beginning with an infamous HxC "OHHH!") made me cringe. They're laughing though cause they're making a shit ton off Gildan softstyles every night at £10 a piece.

People seemed to wander outside for the Caspian performance, and this made me apprehensive. In all honesty, I'd never listened to them before and all I'd heard was that they're an instrumental band - how's that gonna go down live? I'm incredibly sorry for doubting what I'd heard. Caspian are astounding and I wish I'd have discovered them sooner. If you're a fan of say... Mogwai and Explosions in the Sky and maybe Happy Body Slow Brain (for their more downtempo stuff) I'd totally recommend. Highly emotional and yet wonderfully ambient. All I've done today is listen to them and now I wish I'd have bought a vinyl or something. My shitty tinny laptop speakers do last night's raw sound no justice - it's definitely something you have to experience live. There were a few little electronic bits which weren't really my cup of tea but that's a very small qualm. I like and am already waiting anxiously for the next full length.

It seemed there weren't as many people back inside for Defeater (had some people really just come for More Than Life?) but that's okay. One could breathe. Frontman Derek, recovering from a hip injury graced the stage simply by saying hello, thanking the other bands and then asking people not to touch him (slightly blunt if you don't know why). For some reason I half expected a less ballsy set given the injury but Defeater provided enough guts and enough gall for me to be satisfied, by kicking off with "Bastards" and pulling out big gun after big gun until an acoustic break for "I Don't Mind", "But Breathing" and (apparently - I had no idea) a Jawbreaker cover. I felt this break was drawn out and unnecessary - if I'd have wanted to see Derek on an acoustic guitar in excess of like fifteen minutes I'd have gone to see Alcoa the week before. I've got to admit, "But Breathing" had been vamped up rockabilly style which was quite nice. Thankfully the drones of "I Don't Mind" from the blokes in their late twenties behind me faded a bit when the full band reconvened for "The Red, White and Blues" and a few tracks from Letters Home, including my favourite "No Savior". This song clearly hits a nerve with the band; Derek's hand held firmly to his chest and Jay's fingers and eyes darting towards the ceiling. It hit a nerve with me too. Mind you, I'm a mess at any show I attend - just you wait for the City and Colour review at the end of this month. Sadly, as Defeater's set started at TWENTY PAST TEN (on a Sunday, man!!) and with a (subsequently forty minutes late) Megabus to catch, I missed what might have been an awesome encore as I was yet to hear neither "Cemetery Walls" nor "Cowardice". Bastards. Also bastards are the Megabus people who have indirectly given me pneumonia waiting outside Colston Hall 'till half twelve as I meanwhile could have been pointing my fingers angrily shouting "WHAT'S LEFT FOR ME?!". Bristol rarely disappoints though; I had a fun time.

Anyway - have a wonderful week. I'm back to the grind wishing I could have this week off just once more.

Ólafur Arnalds, St George's Bristol, 5th December 2013

Arnalds at his final show of the 100 date "For Now I Am Winter" Tour. (Photo from his Facebook)

If you've not heard of Ólafur Arnalds before, it might be time to take an adventure to the treasure island of modern classical music. Someone who I very briefly spoke to on a dating site a year or two ago told me I should give him a listen and I didn't really know what to expect. If he wasn't a fucking creep I'd have married this bloke for the introduction to what I've fallen asleep to, cried to, walked to work to.. et cetera.

I got to see Arnalds earlier this Summer in London, supported by Douglas Dare (also the support for this concert) and I was spellbound, as I had been by the studio recordings, the YouTube videos and live videos. The St George's show was no exception.

St George's, in the heart of Clifton in Bristol, is a spectacle in itself. My brother and I walked into some sort of vestry turned gallery/coffee shop - you know the kind of thing the yuppies lap up. Don't expect an overpriced pint of Carling served in a flimsy plastic cup here, folks. I couldn't complain though - much like the setting for his London show in St. John's at Hackney, the main auditorium/concert hall was the perfect setting for this kind of concert. Once you give his music a listen, you'll see why.

Douglas Dare, signed to the same label as Arnalds, kicked off the show with an emotional and yet reserved performance. Just his voice and the piano's sound resonated and without sounding like a prat, the acoustics were great. Douglas, bless him (I wanted to hold him a bit) explained that he doesn't really talk about the meanings of his songs, most of which start as poems. Sometimes this can detach the listener from the artists but with Douglas, I don't think it matters. The way he articulated, leaned into and away from the piano and his the keys was enough to show his emotion. "Seven Hours", the title track of his EP and "Caroline" were particular favourites. If he tours again sometime (it might not be for a while, he's been on tour with Óli for ages) then go and see him. You need to hear the voice in person. I say THE voice and not HIS voice for a reason. It's not like velvet because when you stroke velvet the wrong way it's not as smooth anymore. Douglas' voice is like swirling thick double cream around a glass or something, but with something mesmerising too, like, I dunno, the cream in question here changes colours. You get the jist. Listen to his music.

Fifteen minutes after my brother and I were done tweeting Douglas Dare and insisting that he'd been staring at us (we were in the front row) for the duration of his, the man who'd introduced me to the world of modern classical came to the stage, followed by his accompanying violinist and cellist. Arnalds is nervous, sweet and endearing and undoubtedly seriously talented. Sampling the audience aah-ing to middle C to provide a background hum, he played three songs to which I just kind of zoned out, watching the projections on the wall. It's easy to do that and just get lost in the music, to use a crappy cliché. His violinist performed an excellent rendition of 3326, my least favourite Arnalds recorded composition and one of my favourites to hear live. It goes to show how much the live experience can change your perception of a song or an artist.

Half way through the set, Arnór Dan came to the stage. Arnór features as a vocalist on Óli's latest album and if you've seen Broadchurch with David Tenant, sings on the title credits. Blimey, his falsetto goes higher than half of the Sopranos in my choir. I was even more impressed by his than of Justin Vernon's when I went to see Bon Iver last year. Old Skin is my favourite Dan/Arnalds track and its performance was perfect. It's a song aching to be remixed and played in a trendy nightclub. You know those ones where everyone is fucked but looking really sexy. The ones that don't exist, essentially.

Óli finished with the "Near Light" and the gorgeous Lag Fyrir Ömmu, meaning "Song for Grandma", written after the death of his grandmother, who had forcefed him Chopin and the like from a young age. He said without her he'd still be in that death metal band, stage-diving or something. Thanks, Grandma Arnalds.

Had it not been for our train back to Cardiff (which turned out to be delayed anyway) I'd have stuck around to take more in and tried to catch Douglas for a litte chat but instead it was a rather brisk walk across Bristol, humming to Douglas Dare's Scars and feeling very uplifted. Great show.

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On Monday I'm heading to Cardiff's Clwb Ifor Bach to see Owen (Mike Kinsella of American Football et al's side project). Somewhat different to modern classical twinkly piano, but I'm very excited. Kinsella is a music genius. I'll let you know how that goes.


On an aside, I'm a big fan of the Staves, and as implied, Bon Iver. They toured together in November 2012 and I managed to catch the Manchester date. Half way through writing this blog post, this happened. I had to stop for a minute and go a bit mental. So that's exciting.

Until then - have a lovely weekend. Let me know what you think. I'm not really sure how these things should go.