Recomendar
Live review: Swn Festival 2009
Nov 2 2009, 22h11
Thursday
Them Squirrels
Far too immersed in geekily fiddling with samples to work on their stage banter (the show begins after the bassist has checked his phone), Cardiff locals Them Squirrels nevertheless impress with their ability to invent and confuse. Their 30-minute set is packed with vocal quirks, like chopping up samples of themselves whooping and sucking their microphones and opening a song with the drummer repeatedly slapping his mouth, sometimes recalling the impact Wild Beasts' eccentricism first made. The music's varied too, with second track 'Daddy Long Legs' built around an 'Odelay'-esque riff, and the final song concluding with an awesome freakout. In spite of their lack of overt charisma, it's truly charming and surprising. They're worth keeping an eye on, especially since they're bound to reach their potential to match their creative energy with some truly great tunes soon.
Zwolf
Arriving at Clwb Ifor Bach early in the evening, us milling punters are politely told to go upstairs for some light, time-killing entertainment while they set up the next act. What we get is thankfully nothing of the sort. The room is shrouded in smoke, the projectors are showing creepy diagrams of babies and Zwolf is pumping out dark but pulsating electronica. The vocals range from Zwolf's own vocodered contributions to full live remixes, occasionally lulling us into ambience before unleashing more menacing electro.
Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs
"Good evening, I'm Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs, this is your rave for 8 in the evening", announces our host as he takes his place behind his table of laptops and samplers in full dinosaur garb. Staying true to tonight's template, he delivers a solid set of electro. His samples are diverse and perhaps divisive - the little flicker of 'Big Pimpin'' brings smiles all round, the second half of the set's deterioration into dated eurodance probably doesn't. Extra marks for use of party streamers and, well, being dressed in a dinosaur costume, but his visible frustration at being unable to turn a half-empty room into a full rave ("I'd really like it a lot if someone danced. With their right leg.") seems to sour the experience a little. After all, there's not much point blaming an intigued early-evening festival audience for the lack of shape-throwing.
Drums Of Death
After a (superb) evening of one-man electronica acts in comedy outfits, Clwb Ifor Bach headliners Drums of Death feels like the end-of-level boss as he walks on stage in genuinely terrifying silent-movie horror makeup. Despite (or because of) his fearsome appearance and slightly intimidating wanderings into the crowd, his set is hugely enjoyable, and it's hard to tell he's jetlagged and 'not himself' until he mentions it. Once again he faces a largely unresponsive crowd for a headliner, so it's hard to tell if he's angry at them or just angry in general. His showmanship once he leaves his table and takes to the stage is nevertheless superb, clearly a potent combination of his own eccentricty and his time spent collaborating with the similarly extravagant Peaches. Perhaps belying expectations from the Nosferatu-in-a-hoodie appearance, too, is a great sense of melody, rounding off a terrific end to day one.
Saturday
Talons
Talons' two violinists and two guitars take to the stage in a line, saying little but making a restless but impeccably precise racket. From the first few notes it's clear this Hereford outfit are in thrall to 65daysofstatic and other instrumental bands who eschew the classic quiet-loud-quiet post-rock template in favour of something more urgent: with a couple of twinkly exceptions, it's pretty much loud-loud-loud for thirty minutes. Luckily they are all hugely talented musicians and weave some excellent guitarwork into the noise. When they do calm down, they reveal their delicate violin lines (they are barely audible when the band are in full swing), hinting that amongst the chaos there's some true beauty to be found. Intensely powerful yet only just about to release their first single, we're left with the exciting thought of what they might achieve next.
The Twilight Sad
Though they're part of an emerging elite of Scottish hyper-emotional indie bands alongside Frightened Rabbit and We Were Promised Jetpacks (who pull out at the last minute tonight), there's something really special about The Twilight Sad. Judging by their performance tonight, it seems that nothing - especially not playing miles away from the rest of Swn festival to a half-empty room - can stop The Twilight Sad's live show from being one of the most epic and powerful live experiences offered in Britain right now. The Kevin Shieldsian tremolo guitar-playing stirs up an immersive sound, but it's the inimitable stage presence of singer James Graham that truly sets them apart. In between bellowing his enigmatic but powerful lyrics, he skulks around the stage, occasionally kneeling down and staring into space with an unreadable expression. He has us all in his grip, and it becomes easy to understand why the two superfans here are punching the air and religiously singing along to every word. Shame, then, that more people aren't here to be converted.
Sunday
Super Tennis
This angular trio are by far the best of a noisy afternoon line-up upstairs at The Model Inn. Weaving hyperactive guitar, bass and drum lines in with their shared shouty vocals, Super Tennis make an impressive racket (excuse the pun). The band also look like they're actually having fun on stage - a refreshing sight in when we're so used to shy shufflers and moody scenesters - and their stage talk can rightfully earn the label 'banter'. Considering the band on before them end their set with a bad Green Day cover, they're a reward for anyone venturing out here for a new discovery.
The Leisure Society
There's a lot of love in the tiny room holding Brighton eight-piece The Leisure Society tonight. The usual crowd of ironically-attired hipsters is nowhere to be seen, replaced by an unusual amount of couples. "You're a really nice group of people," says frontman Nick Hemming. "Let's swap numbers at the end. It'll be really complicated but rewarding. Like sex." If this all sounds dangerously nice, The Leisure Society counter the slushiness with some outstanding indie-folk songcraft and beautiful instrumentation. Mike Siddell (formerly of Hope Of The States) helps channel the spirit of classic British folk with some mean fiddle-playing, as well as contributing to the lush background of strings and woodwind which helps the likes of 'Love's Enormous Wings' and the heartbreaking 'The Last Of The Melting Snow'. A warm atmosphere and gentle but powerful folk songs: that love is fully justified.
Written for Epigram
More photos at my Flickr page
Them Squirrels
Far too immersed in geekily fiddling with samples to work on their stage banter (the show begins after the bassist has checked his phone), Cardiff locals Them Squirrels nevertheless impress with their ability to invent and confuse. Their 30-minute set is packed with vocal quirks, like chopping up samples of themselves whooping and sucking their microphones and opening a song with the drummer repeatedly slapping his mouth, sometimes recalling the impact Wild Beasts' eccentricism first made. The music's varied too, with second track 'Daddy Long Legs' built around an 'Odelay'-esque riff, and the final song concluding with an awesome freakout. In spite of their lack of overt charisma, it's truly charming and surprising. They're worth keeping an eye on, especially since they're bound to reach their potential to match their creative energy with some truly great tunes soon.
Zwolf
Arriving at Clwb Ifor Bach early in the evening, us milling punters are politely told to go upstairs for some light, time-killing entertainment while they set up the next act. What we get is thankfully nothing of the sort. The room is shrouded in smoke, the projectors are showing creepy diagrams of babies and Zwolf is pumping out dark but pulsating electronica. The vocals range from Zwolf's own vocodered contributions to full live remixes, occasionally lulling us into ambience before unleashing more menacing electro.
Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs
"Good evening, I'm Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs, this is your rave for 8 in the evening", announces our host as he takes his place behind his table of laptops and samplers in full dinosaur garb. Staying true to tonight's template, he delivers a solid set of electro. His samples are diverse and perhaps divisive - the little flicker of 'Big Pimpin'' brings smiles all round, the second half of the set's deterioration into dated eurodance probably doesn't. Extra marks for use of party streamers and, well, being dressed in a dinosaur costume, but his visible frustration at being unable to turn a half-empty room into a full rave ("I'd really like it a lot if someone danced. With their right leg.") seems to sour the experience a little. After all, there's not much point blaming an intigued early-evening festival audience for the lack of shape-throwing.
Drums Of Death
After a (superb) evening of one-man electronica acts in comedy outfits, Clwb Ifor Bach headliners Drums of Death feels like the end-of-level boss as he walks on stage in genuinely terrifying silent-movie horror makeup. Despite (or because of) his fearsome appearance and slightly intimidating wanderings into the crowd, his set is hugely enjoyable, and it's hard to tell he's jetlagged and 'not himself' until he mentions it. Once again he faces a largely unresponsive crowd for a headliner, so it's hard to tell if he's angry at them or just angry in general. His showmanship once he leaves his table and takes to the stage is nevertheless superb, clearly a potent combination of his own eccentricty and his time spent collaborating with the similarly extravagant Peaches. Perhaps belying expectations from the Nosferatu-in-a-hoodie appearance, too, is a great sense of melody, rounding off a terrific end to day one.
Saturday
Talons
Talons' two violinists and two guitars take to the stage in a line, saying little but making a restless but impeccably precise racket. From the first few notes it's clear this Hereford outfit are in thrall to 65daysofstatic and other instrumental bands who eschew the classic quiet-loud-quiet post-rock template in favour of something more urgent: with a couple of twinkly exceptions, it's pretty much loud-loud-loud for thirty minutes. Luckily they are all hugely talented musicians and weave some excellent guitarwork into the noise. When they do calm down, they reveal their delicate violin lines (they are barely audible when the band are in full swing), hinting that amongst the chaos there's some true beauty to be found. Intensely powerful yet only just about to release their first single, we're left with the exciting thought of what they might achieve next.
The Twilight Sad
Though they're part of an emerging elite of Scottish hyper-emotional indie bands alongside Frightened Rabbit and We Were Promised Jetpacks (who pull out at the last minute tonight), there's something really special about The Twilight Sad. Judging by their performance tonight, it seems that nothing - especially not playing miles away from the rest of Swn festival to a half-empty room - can stop The Twilight Sad's live show from being one of the most epic and powerful live experiences offered in Britain right now. The Kevin Shieldsian tremolo guitar-playing stirs up an immersive sound, but it's the inimitable stage presence of singer James Graham that truly sets them apart. In between bellowing his enigmatic but powerful lyrics, he skulks around the stage, occasionally kneeling down and staring into space with an unreadable expression. He has us all in his grip, and it becomes easy to understand why the two superfans here are punching the air and religiously singing along to every word. Shame, then, that more people aren't here to be converted.
Sunday
Super Tennis
This angular trio are by far the best of a noisy afternoon line-up upstairs at The Model Inn. Weaving hyperactive guitar, bass and drum lines in with their shared shouty vocals, Super Tennis make an impressive racket (excuse the pun). The band also look like they're actually having fun on stage - a refreshing sight in when we're so used to shy shufflers and moody scenesters - and their stage talk can rightfully earn the label 'banter'. Considering the band on before them end their set with a bad Green Day cover, they're a reward for anyone venturing out here for a new discovery.
The Leisure Society
There's a lot of love in the tiny room holding Brighton eight-piece The Leisure Society tonight. The usual crowd of ironically-attired hipsters is nowhere to be seen, replaced by an unusual amount of couples. "You're a really nice group of people," says frontman Nick Hemming. "Let's swap numbers at the end. It'll be really complicated but rewarding. Like sex." If this all sounds dangerously nice, The Leisure Society counter the slushiness with some outstanding indie-folk songcraft and beautiful instrumentation. Mike Siddell (formerly of Hope Of The States) helps channel the spirit of classic British folk with some mean fiddle-playing, as well as contributing to the lush background of strings and woodwind which helps the likes of 'Love's Enormous Wings' and the heartbreaking 'The Last Of The Melting Snow'. A warm atmosphere and gentle but powerful folk songs: that love is fully justified.
Written for Epigram
More photos at my Flickr page
