Interviews: Soulsavers with Dave Gahan / OFF!

Dave basically interviews himself nowadays. Read our conversation here.

And here's an interview with Dimitri from hardcore-punk group OFF!.

The Tallest Man On Earth / Splassh

The Tallest Man On Earth 'There's No Leaving Now'. 4/10. Originally published here.

Kristian Matsson seems permanently abstracted; he only ever sings about emotional transformation, nature and dreams. We’ve been led to believe that he’s some sort of puissant, raw and thrilling Dylan-esque troubadour, evoking bucolic, emblematic imagery and intrinsic, indecipherable obscurity. But on this, his third album, he’s taken it too far: there’s too much imagery, and too many murky metaphors. Melancholic, moody and so, so goddamn serious, 'There’s No Leaving Now' in fact resonates like the stark antithesis to Jeffrey Lewis’ wry, comical anti-folk. It’s dreary as hell.

Last full-length 'The Wild Hunt' was an exhilarating, near-faultless work of its genre, all frenetic thrumming, threadbare song structures, and pastoral tales of love, loss and longing. But this album doesn’t even tread water: it regresses. There’s little variation and few chords truly register. What exactly does he mean when he flamboyantly intones “with a rain to help river but a river is so hard to please” in the chorus of opener ‘To Just Grow Away’? Verdant country and western twangs backdrop aside, it’s too obtusely ostentatious and metaphorical as an introduction.

Unfortunately, the record progresses in similar fashion – the periodic ‘Revelation Blues’ features pleasant enough guitar ambles and ‘Lead Me Now’, nimble, deft guitar rhythms, but lyrically, it’s all so tedious. The semi-discordant Jeff Mangum croons and high-pitched, sliding guitar riffs on single ‘1904’ add a bit of spice when he hollers “here is something so strange”, but he follows it up in the relatively soft-spoken ‘Bright Lanterns’ with a brazenly wistful “damn you always treat me like a mountain stranger”. Lines like these, corroborated by antiquated lap steel guitar twangs, really do rile.

There’s one bona fide highlight here – title track ‘There’s No leaving Now’. It’s a slight deviation, with Matsson on grand piano: a crushing, heart-rending ballad with bass and drums whose delicate, closing diminuendo muscularly tugs at our heartstrings. It’s unseemly; for on the most part of this long-player, Matsson has simply regurgitated pre-used melodies and chord thrums into different, somewhat lacklustre shapes. On his earlier work, Matsson stuck to a few, radiant formulae. Here, he only stuck to one.

Splassh 'Need It'. 9/10. Originally published here.

Splashh's ‘Need It’ irrefutably hits some blissful, sweltering spot. A three-minute tidal wave of sun-kissed jubilation brimming with towering synths, propulsive tom-toms and cascading riffage, these precocious Hackney boys, the Luv Luv Luv imprint’s latest signees, have created a fuzzy strain of surf-rock which recalls the Brian Jonestown Massacre at their most accessible. It's overwhelmingly brilliant.

Accompanied by a dazzling, fiery video, which features an air-punching pardy atmosphere and the band cruising around flailing crimson beacons and roaming the seemingly terrified streets, it’s a bold and wraithlike inauguration for sure. Formed in only February this year, and painfully youthful, Toto Vivian and Sasha Carlson’s grunge-poppy Splashh are surely one of 2013’s greatest hopes.

Interviews: Poliça / The Cribs / THEESatisfaction / SoKo

I interviewed Channy from Poliça last week. This was a huge honour; their Give You The Ghost LP is hands down my favourite and most spun record of 2012. This interview has, as of now, been shared an amazing 143 times on facebook (wow).

I've also sat down with Gary Jarman of The Cribs, THEESatisfaction and SoKo over the last couple of months. All genuinely lovely people.

Andrew Bird (Live)

Andrew Bird + Woodpigeon, Bristol Trinity Centre (06/06/12). Originally published in 247 Magazine.

The back of the stage is festooned with a large, plastic, spinning gramophone – with a mascot monkey perched on top. Peculiar perhaps, but anyone accustomed to Andrew Bird’s singular, lustrous baroque pop immediately feels at home. Six albums into his fruitful upsurge of a solo career (Break It Yourself debuted at no. 10 on the Billboards), tonight Bird offers a truly assorted, partly retrograde set, and as he later intones on Desperation Breeds, one chock-a-block with “peculiar incantations”.

But first on strides a hirsute Mark Hamilton, of Canadian folk outfit Woodpigeon (clad in some kind of obfuscating head garment); a brilliant crimson acoustic-electric in hand, he begins to interlace echelons of guitar loops with his dulcet, hushed, velvety vocals which recall Sam Beam (Iron & Wine) and Sufjan Stevens at their most delicate. Usually flanked by a five-strong band, today he flies the flag alone, but with aplomb and expanse.

Hamilton’s set is for the most part gloomy in subject-matter. “Grey suits you too” he laments in what he labels “a love story about pirates”, a song concerning controversial Canadian PM Stephen Harper who, rather absurdly, purchased fighter jets to protect Northern Canada from pirates. Corruption reputedly lies within; he utters “fuck Stephen Harper” innumerable times. Another highlight comes courtesy of a ditty inspired by lost London landmark Postman’s Park, where the deaths of those who lost their lives trying to save others are described on the ‘Watts Memorial to Heroic Self-sacrifice’. The singer was principally moved by story of 12-year-old David Selves who tried to support his drowning friend but sank with him clasped in his arms. “It’s definitely a downer”, he quips. Indeed it is, but at last he cheers the room up with an amusingly adroit cover of a “Swedish folk song”, ‘Lay All Your Love On Me’ by ABBA.

After a short while, our headliner sidles on stage. It has to be said that a set like Bird’s should really be chaotic: an irregular, virtuosic polymath switching frenetically between whistling, singing, violin (bows, plucks and thrums) and guitar, incorporating all of calypso, blues and country. But of course, this virtuoso makes it work, proffering epochal, incandescent rock n roll. He starts sole, building loops of intricate pizzicato plucks. ‘Danse Carribe’ is a complex arrangement in which he moves from folky vibrato bows through tenacious thrumming to whistling soars and stark xylophone. This then segues into a down-tempo jazzy cut. In fact, his entire set is marked by the way in which he assuredly, instantaneously flickers from brazenly pouring out emotion to purveying an intrinsic, insouciant ‘cool’. When his backing band ascends for the calypso swing of ‘Night Duty’ we’re already in thrall.

Following the lightning-fast, labyrinthine plucks and slinking bass grooves of the super-melodic ‘Desperation Breeds’, we get ‘Orpheo Looks Back’, a new tune which alternates between Latin-ish offbeat thumps and folky violin solos. Harmonically, the chorus would slot nicely into Paul Simon’s Graceland. Next up, ‘Measuring Cups’, lifted from Bird’s early The Mystery Production Of Eggs, is a welcome inclusion in which, alongside anthemic single ‘Break It Yourself’, the agreeable whimsy of his lyrics recalls Oh, Inverted World-era the Shins. The second witty cover of the evening comes as a bona fide delight: ‘It’s Not Easy Being Green’ by Kermit. Yes, really… Bird and band transform it into an enchanting blues ballad with polished violin flourishes and winning bass-lines.

Earlier this afternoon, Bird treated fans to in an intimate warm-up at Rise record store on Queen’s Road. There he showcased his “old timey set-up”, something he repeats in the encore tonight. He and his two guitarists assemble around one microphone and rattle through a couple of country and western classics and ‘Give It Away’. The latter, along with a Townes Van Zandt cover, culminate an evening of captivating, gratifying musical confusion.

Frankie Rose / Teen Daze

Frankie Rose 'Interstellar'. Originally published here. Shortened version in March 2012 DIY Mag.

'Know Me' left me somewhat bamboozled when it popped up on my Hype Machine last month; who was this Frankie Rose and what had she done with the real Frankie Rose? Here was a compelling pop paragon of speedy beats, carefree bass rolls and Marr-esque axe jangles, and one of the catchiest songs released in months. It was immersive, icy and genuinely mesmeric. But where was all the distortion?

'Interstellar' is an outright pop record because Rose was tired of the plenitude of 80s-aping girl-pop-indebted rock bands playing clear-cut three-chord garage tunes in and around her now native Brooklyn. Laid down at the Thermometer Factory in the Park Slope area, her retort is an album of epic proportions, one about dreaming of some ‘other’ place, somewhere truly interstellar. It’s a glammy, histrionic oeuvre which rather than drawing inspiration from The Shangri-Las, transcends her past and looks more towards 80s pop: from The Cure to The Sundays. Rose’s time spent in scuzzy garage groups Vivian Girls, Dum Dum Girls, Crystal Stilts and Frankie Rose & The Outs, who all emulated a distinctive C86 sleaze and Spector-esque production, is gone. Indeed, the only remnants of her former fuzz on 'Know Me' lie in the dreamy verses’ shoegaze lethargy rather redolent of MBV’s Bilinda Butcher.

One indication of this new-found New Wavey pop sound (think Tom Tom Club meets Cocteau Twins) was her appointment of knobtwiddler Le Chev, Passion Pit producer and Fischerspooner collaborator. The inevitable result is a crisper, more polished sound. Be it the soaring, palatial synth twinks, ethereal harmonies and BSP-scale riffing anthemia of opener ‘Interstellar’, the futuristic ‘Gospel/Grace’ with its incredible intertwining vocal flourishes, reverby guitar climaxes and simple yet insidious bass hooks or the more snarly and sinister ‘Moon In My Mind’, the production is all chart-ready pristine.

Although she’s denied the influence of bands like The Shangri-Las and The Exciters, you can still hear it loud and clear on tracks like the capricious ‘Apples For The Sun’, which in its rippling rises and falls sounds a bit like Hope Sandoval had she dabbled in ambient, similarly with the garrotting ‘Night Swim’, which is more akin to Rose's days backed by The Outs. The Fall is an aptly perfect culmination: underpinned by deep cello bows, overlaid with indistinguishable yet effortless coos and yelps, her creeping guitars assault. And that's our 32.5 minutes of utter ecstasy over. Replay please.

Teen Daze 'All Of Us, Together'. 8/10. Originally published here.

Shifting feverishly from chillwave through ambient to techno in the space of just two years, British Colombian Teen Daze, known to his friends as Jamison, has pitched up at some evolutionary strain of all three on 'All Of Us, Together', his third album. Euphoric, intricate and lustrous, don’t expect the out-n-out chillwave of last year’s blog smash ‘Let’s Groove’, and ditto the ambient yelps of the 'Silent Planet' EP, but do imagine similar elements and ideals mish-mashed into novel shapes. Think the radiant, beatific twin of Pantha du Prince.

What came to define Daze’s earlier work was his heavily filtered, volatile vocals, but these are largely absent here. Instead he lets his shimmering, arpeggiating synths take centre stage, and to marvellous effect. Take portentous opener ‘Treten’, in all its sun-kissed swathes of synth ripples, rumbling bass bleeps and cymbal clatters. Layer after layer enclose the listener; superior headphones make this one luscious, immersive experience. six-minute opus 'For Body And Kenzie' does a similar job, starting down-tempo and ending up as an infectious head-nodding haze.

Other standouts come via ‘The New Balearic’, whose Balearic beach vibes are corroborated by buoyant bass pounds and sea splashes. 'The Future' meanwhile, underpinned by undulating CASIO twinks, does feature distinctly chillwave echelons of layered vocals like a long-lost Washed Out B-Side. But best of all is 'Erbstruck', which recalls the 'North Dorm' EP by NY producer Evenings, led by jilting synth loops and throbbing, repetitive beats. Maybe this is what they meant by Hypnagogic Pop?

One possible criticism is the lack of variation throughout, but that’s besides the point. This was intended as a vital, woozy summer repose, nine tracks in the perfect sequence for drifting off on a lazy, languorous May afternoon.

20 Cambridge Gigs You Wish You Were At

This is a feature I compiled a couple of months back for my sixth-form student paper. I thought the wider world may be interested.

1. The Beatles, The Regal Cinema, 26 November 1963
“The Beatles, a four-man “rock” group with weird hairstyles as a gimmick, sang and played their current hits, ‘Love Me Do’ and ‘Please, Please’”. That's how plainly the Cambridge News described John, Paul, George and Ringo when they first played the Regal Cinema opposite Emmanuel College (now the Arts Picturehouse) in support of American singer Chris Montez earlier that year: pre-fame, pre-mania and not actually that good.
But when they returned to play two sell-out shows in November, they made the front page two days running. By this time, The Beatles had two number 1 hits (‘From Me to You’ and ‘She Loves You’). Their debut LP Please Please Me, released in April, went straight to number 1.
The first headline (of November 26) read: “Beatles Here – Smuggled in a Black Maria”. It was frenzied madness all over town, as fans attempted to track down the correct swarthy vehicle. The whole force was on hand yet the elaborate security measures taken by the police almost collapsed.
Cambridge News related events with a fascinating insight into the logistical minutiae: “The police van was planned to meet the Beatles and their manager at the City boundary near Trumpington, but the large car, with the four signers had almost reached Lensfield Road before it was spotted by the police.”
“Det. Sgt. Harry Fox of the Cambridge C.I.D. who was patrolling the area in another police car heard an emergency message over the car radio from Chief Insp. R. W. Barlow who was in the police wagon, and he managed to intercept them near Brooklands Avenue.”
“The Beatles were switched from their own car into the police vehicle and driven down Trumpington Road, Lensfield Road and Tennis Court Road into the grounds of the Cambridge University Laboratories.”
“Then the van, with an escort of motor cycles drove through the grounds into Downing Place to the back of the Regal Cinema.”
“The Beatles hurriedly left the van and rushed into the rear entrance of the cinema before 200 screaming girls broke through the police cordon and rushed along Downing Place.”
“Once the Beatles were inside the cinema the doors were slammed shut.”
Inside that evening, they were met by hundreds of squealing girls. The paper tells us how “only a small part of the gig was musical”, a result of the piercing cacophony of screams and shouts from high-strung teenagers “tearing at their hair and waving their souvenir programmes”.
It was Beatlemania, the outset of a cultural revolution, the ultimate you-had-to-be-there spectacle… Frankly, it’s nigh-on impossible to imagine another concert of this cultural worth ever happening here again, unless Adele plays a secret set in Clown’s next week or something, and even then…

2. Jeff Buckley, The Junction. 22 June 1995
Why. Was. I. Only. Nine. Months. Old? As part of the ‘The Mystery White Boy’ tour, Big Jeff rocked up over the road to play the likes of ‘Last Goodbye’ and ‘So Real’, as well as his defining Nina Simone, MC5 and Leonard Cohen covers. One can only imagine that timeless, potent voice absorbing the whole room. Two years later, to everyone’s dismay, he drowned.

3. Radiohead and Sparklehorse, Corn Exchange. 6 November 1995
As gigs go, they don’t get much grander than early RADIOHEAD supported by SPARKLEHORSE (whose late frontman Mark Linkous is one of the most sorely underrated singer-songwriters of all time). Any Radiohead mavens will appreciate a setlist, so here it is: The Bends, Bones, Anyone Can Play Guitar, Bullet Proof..I Wish I Was, High & Dry, Lucky ,Creep, Man-O-War, Planet Telex, Vegetable, Bishop’s Robes, My Iron Lung, Just, Blow Out, Fake Plastic Trees, Subterranean Homesick Alien, Nice Dream, Street Spirit (Fade Out), Stop Whispering and You. And as if that didn’t rile you enough, a pre-The Bends Radiohead played the Junction twice in 1992.

4. Amy Winehouse, The Junction. 19 November 2006
I was nearly reduced to the tears by the YouTube footage I just found of ‘Love is A Losing Game’ and ‘Tears Dry On Their Own’ being performed at the Junction. As one of the many with whom her music only really clicked after tragedy, this is one palpably recent gig that I’ll never forgive myself for missing. 

5. The Clash, Corn Exchange. 11 November 1977
It was the year of the ‘White Riot’: punk was pillaging the zeitgeist and The Clash offered an artful, pared-down alternative. They’d just released their debut full-length which was still intrinsically ‘punk’ but at the same time fused reggae beats and ideals with early, straightforward rock ‘n’ roll.

6. The Strokes, Corn Exchange. 22 March 2002
Reviews of this gig were mixed. In the wake of that inescapable Garage Rock Revival, along with the White Stripes, Kings Of Leon and The Hives, The Strokes were the ubiquitous Emperors, the ones on everyone’s to-see list. They only played for fifty minutes and the sound was ‘awful, really boomy’. WowThatsGreat on the ‘Motley Fool’ forum says of the gig: ‘The Strokes were formulaic, going nowhere, bringing little new. They were tight, post punk, twenty three years too late.’ Meanwhile, Xfm had some nicer words: they describe Casablancas’ inimitable insouciance as a bottle flies past his head and summate with ‘they doggedly refuse to disappoint. They may not be flawless, but they’re still peerless.’ Take your pick.

7. Animal Collective, The Portland Arms. 20 October 2003
2009's Merriweather Post Pavilion was the record which really brought them into the limelight, but crit-revered AC had been making that same brand of neo-psychedelic esoterica since the turn of the decade. This gig came along just after they released that un-pigeonholeable five-track oeuvre Campfire Songs, which featured tunes such as 'Doggy' and 'Moo Rah Rah Rain'. The 100 or so attendants witnessed something special. Similarly, two years later, Dan Snaith's kooky Caribou also played the Portland.

8. Blur, The Junction. 28 April 1990
If this year's Brits reminded us of one thing, it was how much we missed the old, juvenile Blur. They played in Cambridge five times (hopping between the Corno and the Junx) in the 90s - the first in 1990, the last in 1997. But it's the first gig which resounds really importunately for me; their shoegazy 1991 album Leisure is by far their best.

9. My Bloody Valentine and Mercury Rev, Corn Exchange. 2 Dec 1991
Also that year, those almighty Kings of shoegaze MBV brought all their FX to the corno. Kevin Shields and co infamously spent £250,000 of Creation's money on Loveless (fortunately it turned out to be one of the best albums of our epoch) and here was a chance to see it incarnated live, drone, dream and drugs to the max. Support came from NY's Mercury Rev, whose 1998 album Deserter's Songs would be similarly lauded.

10. Fugazi, The Junction. 6 May 1992
Hands down the second most game-changing, forward-thinking, gut-pummelling, cell-damaging, hardcore-twisting, guitar-maiming, genre-defying something-punk troupe of all time (first place: At The Drive-In). Two years after they dropped magnum opus Repeater, one can only lilt in reverie at how terrifyingly terrific the moshpit must have been.

The rest?

Muse, The Junction. 21 Feb 1998.
Love ‘em or hate ‘em, you can’t deny how ‘epic’ a Bellers and co. gig would have been in the 850-capacity J1.

Stone Roses, Corn Exchange. 1 Dec 1995
I’m one of a select bunch who favours Second Coming over The Stone Roses. Call me an idiot, but either way, imagine John Squire’s transcendental jangles soaring over the balcony, Ian Brown impersonating a monkey, Mani grooving and Reni doing his Keith Moon expressions, and then tell me this gig was crap.

Arctic Monkeys, The Soul Tree. 25 Aug 2005
Sob.

Queen, Corn Exchange. 9 March 1974
Not much of a fan, but still, IT'S QUEEN, ennit.

Adele, Corn Exchange. 1 May 2008
Her ubiquity is founded on true talent and musical integrity and she deserves all the plaudits she gets. You should be gutted if you labeled her lamestream back in ’08.

Mumford & Sons, The Portland Arms. 22 Feb 2009
The Mumfords stopped by at the Portland three years back. Ostentatious private school dweebs, yes, but imagine the bouncy, enthralling pub sing-alongs present here. Ellie Goulding and Two Door Cinema Club have also played The Portland pretty recently, fyi.

Oasis, Corn Exchange. 4 Dec 1994
‘I’m feeling Supersonic, give me gin and tonic.’ Oasis before the middle-aged lad-Dads eloped in tow.

Gorillaz, The Junction. 23 March 2010
A warm-up gig prior to their Coachella and Glasto headline slots, Damon and friends debuted material from Plastic Beach and played all the famous ones too. Audience members around me had travelled from as far as Spain, even Turkey.

Flaming Lips and Bob Mould, The Junction. 9 Jul 2002
Quite possibly what would have been my favourite gig ever. A post-The Soft Bulletin Flaming Lips supported by Husker Du’s Bob Mould. No, no, no, no, no. I need to relieve myself somehow…

Coldplay, The Junction. 2 Oct 2000
Ah yes, having read all this, we can now console ourselves with the fact that we MISSED Coldplay when they played the Junction back in 2000. Thank the Lord.

Portico Quartet / Rodrigo Y Gabriela

Portico Quartet 'Portico Quartet'. 9/10. Originally published here. Shortened version in March 2012 DIY Mag.

Grand statements re how Portico Quartet are indubitably the success-bound new faces of jazz are ostensibly bandied about non-stop whenever they release a new album. Sure, they’ve come a long way: gone are the years and months spent busking outside the National Theatre; auspicious debut 'Knee-Deep In The North Sea' was nominated for a Mercury. But the crits’ predictions have never really foretold the truth: follow-up 'Isla' passed most of us by and the band has never truly broken down the barrier between jazz and pop. No one really ‘got’ mesmeric post-jazz.

But fast forward to now and the eponymous 'Portico Quartet' may have just flouted all that. For what we have here is an album which grabs the zeitgeist but still stays true to its roots: callipygously shuffling, painlessly seguing, mingling the darkest rags ‘n’ bones of dubstep, d ‘n’b and off-kilter jazz, all the while interweaving heck loads of new-found textures and electronics. It’s a forward-thinking game-change which feels rich, warm and – quite simply – astounding.

Fleeting opener ‘Window Seat’ is ambient but not exactly easy on the ear – creaking strings and spectral synths give way to clattering layers of fuzz. It’s spooky and cinematic like a curt Phillip Glass piece but as if its creator was brought up in a world teeming with Oneohtrix Point Nevers and Laurel Halos. Single ‘Ruins’, meanwhile, led by their trademark use of reverberating double bass and hang (the latter a 21st century Swiss-developed tuned steel drum-ish instrument), brings in a Jamie XX beat before a celestial tenor sax line soars high up above. Everything is beaten into a glorious pulp as the tune then climaxes in peals of Colin Stetson-worthy sax squeals.

And there is no subsequent chaff. Every track on this record is a standout, be it the booming bass swings and arpeggiating synths of ‘Spinner’, the 9-minute nuclear cacophony ‘Rubidium’, the croaky, morose narratives of guest vocalist Cornelia on ‘Steepless’ (“at the end of times…”, she ruefully repeats) or the wonky grooves of ‘City Of Glass’. In short – this record is a playful, daring and capricious listen, and one of the first truly remarkable records of 2012.

Rodrigo Y Gabriela 'Area 52'. 8/10. Originally published here.

Rodrigo Sanchez and Gabriela Quintero’s intricate, high-strung pageantries are never anything but exhilarating and extravagant, but this record is just absurd. Their unique busk-bred fusion of metal, jazz and flamenco has thus far sold them 1 million albums worldwide, but now, on this dive into the unknown, they’re backed by a youthful 13-piece Cuban orchestra (C.U.B.A) and bassist Carles Benavent (Miles Davis, Paco de Lucia). Having reworked and rearranged nine songs from their back catalogue at Abdala Studios in Havana’s Miramar District, their primal, formulaic guitar noodling has now been beefed up with a glorious, unrelenting mish-mash of horns, flutes and percussion. They’ve also brought in the cream of the world music cosmos to join them: sitarist extraordinaire Anoushka Shankar and Palestinian oud players Le Trio Jourban. The outcome? 'Area 52' is hands down the duo’s most grandiose, outlandish opus yet.
 
Their self-titled crossover was a bouncy, mellifluous two-guitar gem and follow-up '11:11' was more of the same. But that was where the trouble lay: were you as bored as I was? 'Area 52' – although simply collected re-imaginings of the old tunes – is a breath of fresh air and a bona fide LP par excellence. It’s the follow-up to 'La Revancha Del Tango' the Gotan Project never made, the voguish wah-wah-filled record Santana will never, ever make. Whether we’re talking the interminably insidious ‘Diablo Rojo’, ‘Juan Loco’, and ‘Tamacun’ from the eponymous record, now sped up, horned up Ronson-style and galvanised with whimsical piccolo solos, or the later ‘Santo Domingo’ and ‘Hanuman’ in which a gazillion different things ostensibly happen at once, it’s impossible to pick out individual standouts. Further – Shankar’s extended sitar solo on ‘Ixtapa’ is a peculiar yet entrancing addition, whilst jazzy number ‘Logos’ is a lot prettier than its previous embodiment. My advice: bang this record on, pretend you’re in a Havana-set spy film for a bit and then get bopping like madman.

DIY Local: Cambridge: Dan Wilde, Ill Murray, Annie Dressner

This is my first ever blog about wagwan in Cambs for DIY. Read in full (with music embeds etc) here.

January is quiet month in every city, but the past few weeks have seen a surprising amount of bustle in Cambridge as students return, bands start tours and frost bites.

So, I suppose I’ll start by extolling the great number of youthful rock ruffians currently rehearsing all around town. Take one White Label – a group of 18/19 year olds – whose album 'Funded In Mexico', set to materialise on bandcamp on February 8th, is a DIY indie rock delight. Their rollicking ‘Pedestal’, our foretaste of the record, in its exquisite Britishness, endearing scruffiness and droll wordplay, is insidious, fun and incredibly moreish. Expect gigs galore when guitarist Beni returns from Borneo in a couple of months time.

Secondly, Ill Murray – one Cambs band that quite a few of you will know already – are well and truly blooming. Following on from last year’s unbelievable 'Fugu' EP, their debut full-length has already been recorded and should see the light of day in April (which is quite a feat considering they formed only half a year ago). At their recent Corner House headline gig, the band gallantly played the whole thing in its entirety. Predominated by Iceage-aping, hardcore punk numbers vaguely redolent of last year’s ‘March King’, it was an intense yet awe-inspiring listen. One standout was predestined single ‘False Prophets And Football Teams’, Pavement-esque in its throttling feedback, just as catchy as ‘Throats’ and vaguely akin to an early, cathartic The National. Another – the instantly likeable garage fuzz of ‘Hold Fast’. Another – the celestial, reverby chugs of ‘Slackline’, which recalls Galaxie 500 at their esoteric zenith. I could go on. Having gained the support of local promoter lynchpin Green Mind, Murray’s next gig is at the Portland Arms on 9th February supporting the Kate Jackson Group. After that, they play at the Man On The Moon on February 24th with support coming from local grunge tykes Forest, who are also fantastic. More on them another time.

Moving on, that recent Ill Murray gig also engendered my discovery of the quite frankly hilarious support Super Love Giant. A duo fronted by the charismatic Sam Boevey, who spearheaded proceedings with his preachery, effortless chant-talk, their sound was of humongous proportions considering their limitations as a two-piece. Their riffs were a bit Black Keys, their overall frolics were kinda like a funky PS I Love You and all in all they basically tore the frigging place down. One tune they played – ‘Jailbait’ (check Urban Dictionary) – was a comically lewd take on Jason Mraz’ ‘I’m Yours’. There was another one entitled ‘Wank Bank’. They’re a marmite band for sure.

Veering from one extreme to another – from distortion to folk serenity – let’s talk about Dan Wilde, one of the city’s most promising singer-songwriters. Having moved here from Blackpool around a year ago, he’s confirmed to work with producer Karl Odlum (Fionn Regan) on a second LP which will see him move away from the love songs of yore and take a more light-hearted, autobiographical stance: moving house, infuriating traffic wardens and job hunting. Many are already live standards: ‘Pictures’, ‘Demons’ and ‘On Previous Experience’. Indeed, it must be said that where Wilde really comes into his own is in the flesh. I caught him at the wonderfully effervescent Hot Numbers Café off Mill Road just before Chrimbo, never having heard of him before, and I was duly blown away. There’s something incredibly moving and captivating about his live presence: his introverted demeanour, his silver-tongued vocals, his svelte Martynesque finger-picking and his intrinsic knack for a hook. He later told me that he’s influenced by the all the greats – Neil Young, Bob Dylan, Van Morrison – and this was no surprise given the classic, complex semblance of his sound. His gig at Hot Numbers in support of Mark Geary on 9th February is a must. Another plus? They cook up a marvellous onion bhaji panino.

Another mesmerising solo artist around these parts is one Annie Dressner. Originally from New York, she concocts beautiful, beautiful little paeans of down-tempo Americana. With a saccharine voice and an intricate musicality, her delicate sound ends up resonating like an alt-country hybrid of Jessica Lea Mayfield, She & Him, Gillian Welch and Maia Vidal. A debut album, 'Strangers Who Knew Each Other’s Names', was released last year, and is available from bandcamp now. She has tour dates all over the country lined up over the next couple of months, so I’d check her out if I were you.

Now onto to some longstanding Cambridge favourites, I reintroduce Fuzzy Lights. My favourite gig of the year so far has to be Lanterns On The Lake at Junction 2 a couple of weeks back. But this wasn’t because of their own enthralling folktronica, this was because support came courtesy of the ever-formidable Fuzzy Lights. Having been holed up in a Suffolk barn honing tracks for their new record (recording is pencilled in for later this year), they boldly came out of seclusion to preview new material. And what can I say? The songs played were loud, immaculate, sprawling, post-rocky conundrums. The live show featured heaps upon heaps of disparate instruments, girl-boy vocals, guitar bowing, FX, juxtaposing drone with pretty violin riffs. I couldn’t have asked for more. Apparently the album and preceding 7” should be released soonish.

Finally, one band whom I’m yet to see live are the epic, thunderous duo Model Staggs, aka Tom Miller and Ash Allerton. Their eponymous EP of reverb-laden blues was released at the tail-end of 2011 with a sound they describe as “layered with warped bass tones, sophisticated melodies and rhythms”, all of which is true. Charged by a central DIY aesthetic, their expansive tracks somehow manage to recall Wolf Parade despite their having half as many band members. Watch out for new material later this year, but in meantime download said incredible EP for free below.