Mayday festival @ The Exeter Hall, 01.05.05
Jump off a bloody bridge if you must, but for me the May Bank Holiday has two great traditions: one is the snooker final, and the other is the Kakofanney weekender. I found myself there for the whole of Sunday.
Glenda And Sam kick things off. She is better known as the hair-swinging leader of metallers Phyal and he is the drummer from oddball punks Fork, so it�s unexpected to see them play some quiet folk songs, with plenty of bodhran and flute. Diverting, if lightweight.
Can you lot really not think of names for your acts? Mauro And David turns out to be Mauro and David from Inflatable Buddha (well, be honest, which Mauro did you think it would be?) playing hurdy-gurdy and percussion respectively. Some of you will already know that Mauro can make his odd screechy instrument sing, and David turns out to be a dab hand (pardon the pun) as an accompanist, which almost excuses the fact that he�s wearing some mangy old purple curtains.
I find the winning simplicity of Jeremy Hughes� playing quite delightful, especially on a sunny day. However, if you find the idea of Gandalf�s beard double wibbling out an instrumental called �Rainbow� a turnoff, steer well clear.
Laima Bite proves once again that she has one of the best vocal deliveries in Oxford, with a relaxed set. If I don�t think she�s as outstanding a talent as some local writers, it�s less a criticism of her, and more a celebration of our local acoustic talent.
Frei Zinger (flute) and Chris Hills (tabla) are both superb musicians, but their set sadly made no impression on me whatsoever. Unlike the first beer of the day.
Trip-hop without the hip-hop? It�s odd, but it�s Stem. Emma�s voice, backed by acoustic guitar, is wonderfully weary and emotive, recalling Portishead and early Lamb, but the percussion is a clunky beast that keeps the set from taking off. Pity.
OK, I didn�t see every act on the bill. I was getting some food while Lagrima played.
Clearly, getting the fun-loving but less than vocally-dextrous landlady of the pub to sing some cheesy show tunes should be an embarrassment, but luckily Condom (yes, that�s really the band�s name) have such an unpretentious vivacity that it�s almost impossible to dislike them; hardly a highlight, but a bit of Bank Holiday larking about never did any harm.
With their relaxed AOR songwriting and West Coast sax solos, Veda Park will never be one to make the heart beat faster. Still, they�re such natural ensemble players and the whole show is so incredibly tight you have to go with them. Especially after another beer.
Trip-hop without the � hang on, I�ve done that one. But, for different reasons, Drift deserve the description as much as Stem. The vocals have similar torch song yearning to them, but whilst the drum machine and bass are laying down dubby grooves, the guitarist is on an entirely unrelated psychedelic mission. Every time the neat arrangements make some sonic space, it�s filled with an FX-laden guitar part, which defeats the point somewhat. Then again, the ring modulation solo is scorching so maybe, just maybe�
The night really starts with the arrival of Harry Angel in all their goth-punk glory. Taut, angular Bauhaus-style rackets led by a great tall chap leaning over the mic like the speed-freak son of the Twin Peaks giant: time for a celebratory beer.
A keening and forceful North African vocal suddenly fills the pub, covered in reverb and synth pads. It sounds pretty powerful, but when the drum and bass kicks in great things start to happen. That�s live drums played with brushes, and a double bass, by the way, but it still has the punch of a Moving Shadow classic. We have just witnessed the debut gig by Tounsi. I hope we witness lots more.
I�ve seen The Epstein many times. I saw them at The Zodiac on Friday. Yet here I am again front and centre. That�s all you need to know. Still the best of the (inexplicably large number of) country bands in Oxford.
There�s always a sneaking suspicion that I shouldn�t like a sprawling ska punk band that calls itself The Drugsquad, singing songs about washing machines and fat fish. But when they play, I forget all that and just enjoy the volume, the exuberance and the extremely silly keyboard noises. A fitting end.
So, it was fun. So, it was Bank Holiday Sunday. I may have let my critical faculties off the leash for a bit (did I mention the beer?), but that seems to be the right approach to one of these big Exeter Hall events. We�ve just had over nine hours of music in a warm atmosphere for less than a fiver, and I can�t really think of anything I�d rather be doing with myself, which is ultimately the only important thing.
By David Murphy. Monday, 23 May 2005
|