On a serious note...

Anthony H. Wilson
1950 - 2007




Broadcaster, mogul, nightclub owner, record label founder, example to us all.

So there we were on Friday enjoying a nice drink at Keys Money Lipstick, when Ian, the ever-genial co-promoter of the night, turned to us and said, “Tony Wilson died today… oh, and there was an earthquake in town”. Yes, Manchester was rocked in more ways than one last week when some buildings shook, and more notably, one of her favourite sons was taken away.

Wilson died of a heart attack at Christie’s hospital after battling with Cancer since last year. It was a shock to many as the full extent of his illness had been kept largely secret: it was only six months ago that the former boss of Factory Records revealed his battle in the Manchester Evening News and wrote about his “love for the NHS“.

Our first memory of Tony Wilson is of him presenting entrepreneurial business show Flying Start, which was a forerunner to the shoddy shit like Tycoon now being pedalled on the third channel, and being impressed by his style but also slightly bored by his seriousness.

It was only years later, during hip young gunslinger’s ‘cultural awakening’ (which is the bit where you borrow Never Mind The Bollocks and realise that, actually, things existed before you were born) that we discovered an alternative music legacy going back decades and a tireless devotion to the heart of Manchester were actually Wilson’s best features.

Wilson was, is and always will be an inspiration to anyone who cares about music. He set the template for independent record labels (or at least showed them what not to do), he banged on constantly about new Manchester music, worked harder than the council to put the city on the map and - lest we forget - BUILT THE FUCKING HACIENDA FOR CHRIST’S SAKE. Not with his bare hands, or course, but for the amount of love and effort he put in he might as well have shifted the bricks and mortar himself.

People say of Wilson that he could be infuriating and a bit of wanker, but what this stance fails to point out is that, actually, all the best people have a tendency to be infuriating and a bit of a wanker. If you manage to please everyone all the time you’re obviously doing something wrong.

Anyway, his closest friends point out that he was actually a very sweet man, who became increasingly perturbed by the public’s perception of him as some sort of self-loving swaggercock as the years went on. If he was so awful, would those same friends have shelled out for drugs to keep him alive? Drugs that the National But Only In Certain Areas Health Service wouldn’t stump up for. Not a chance.

The death of Tony Wilson finally sees the curtain fall on Manchester music’s glorious Act One. Talk is of a memorial statue, but far better would be an academy, scheme or bursary - set up in his honour - to give the new music in Manchester a chance to flourish and allow Act Two a chance to find its own Joy Division, its own Hacienda. It’s what he would have wanted.

Bureau've Changed

Last week we went to an underground indie dive to look in the direction of some bands and were confronted by an unusual thing: a brilliant support act. That act was called Daggers, who chose to support the headliners by basically filling the dancefloor for them.

Some of you may have come across Daggers before, playing under their old moniker Bureau. Daggers used to be called Bureau but decided they didn’t want to be called Bureau anymore so they changed their name to Daggers. Which is a fairly bold move, especially for a new band.

Let’s have a look at some of the things Bureau Daggers have got going for them:

:: The lead singer resembles a cross between Richey Manic and Cristiano Ronaldo.
:: That’s a good thing, in case you were wondering.
:: They dress and act like total fucking stars.
:: There are two (TWO!) very hot keyboard players in the band.
:: Their song titles reference things as diverse as telly and magazines.

While most of that list relates solely to the band’s image, do not make the mistake of assuming that their music is shit. Daggers are much less style over content than they are stylish content. They make the sort of danceable electrock stompers that mankind was given the ability to lift his arms into the air for.

Mixing modern touches with eighties sensibilities is not exactly a new thing, but it’s always a pleasant surprise when a band comes along who can do it with such skill. Tracks like ‘Magazine’ and ‘Living With TV’ brim with musical flair and smart lyrics, making it easy to see why Daggers have a habit of winning over unsure audiences.

Obviously the whole Bureau/Daggers thing is a bit of a mess but hopefully it is sorted out now once and for all. Daggers is quite a good name for a band, although it is completely ungooglable (you just get a load of results about weapons and a rubbish football team).

Daggers are playing lots of gigs around Manchester, and are heading down to London at the end of June. They are definitely worth seeing, and not just for the endearing way in which Theo (the singer) shouts ‘”CHEERS!” after every song.

Their MySpace page is here if you need convincing.

Whip Me Up Again

In honour of tonight's gig by The Whip, let's have another look at the main points of this article from March:

1) The Whip are a band from Manchester.

2) They play big, dark, sexy dance music.

3) Two of them used to be in Nylon Pylon.

4) They are really very good indeed.

You’ve probably heard Muzzle No. 1 by now, one of the aforementioned dark, sexy dance records. It sounds a bit like being taught how to dance at a warehouse rave by some slightly-evil robots. With lasers. Similar in tone is ‘Trash’, a highlight of the last Kitsuné Maison compilation.

Another track of theirs is ‘Frustration’, a song that couldn’t be any more Manchester if it ran through Collyhurst in a City shirt shouting “Sorted!” at the top of it’s voice. It is this song that has seen the band compared favourably to early New Order, which is certainly no bad thing.

All of which sounds pretty fucking amazing, does it not? We'll be there, shouting from the sidelines (although not in a City shirt) and will be bringing you all the details next week.

In the meantime, go to The Whip's MySpace to listen to some of their stuff, including new tune 'Divebomb'.

Look what came in the post today...

Tickets for The Whip next week in Manchester.

Now that we’re definitely going (it took seetickets about four years to get these to us) here’s what you can expect to see soon:

:: a review
:: some Incredibly Professional gig photography
:: worryingly vague recollections of what actually happened

Hurrah!

Something about "turning it up to 11"

Rock music is a funny old thing. The older it gets, the funnier it becomes.

Think about it: middle-aged men running about in catsuits and perms, throwing ridiculous poses and yodelling about “lurve” and things like that.

And that was just The Darkness!

BOOM BOOM.

No, much better now that we’ve got clean young boys like the Arctic Monkeys, in their smartcasual clothes and neat haircuts, singing songs about everyday subjects we can all relate to.

Or is it?

Not according to some. Indeed, there’s been a resurgence of late in young men picking up their guitars with the intention of performing acts rather more righteous than riffing over the top of a song about missing the bus because you got dumped.

And there’s a distinctly old-school flavour to what results. Out go clipped, staccato riffs and beats and in come HUGE BIG BASTARD GUITARS, pounding drumlines - and, if you’re very lucky - a bit of synth for good measure. Rock On!

Two such bands are JOON and Darke Horse. The former, all power, synths and melody; the latter: straight-down, hard-riffing noise. Both equally retro-rock-tastic.

And while it might appear that this resurgence we’re touting features only two bands, that’s still a hell of a lot more than the bloody New Acoustic Movement ever got, so what does that tell you? Eh? EH? What does that tell you?

The JOON factfile:

> They’ve got a singer and keyboardist but - get this - it’s the same guy
> Other bands with this ‘set-up’ include The Killers
> Although JOON don’t really sound much like The Killers
> ‘Walk Like You Don’t Care’ is brilliant
> The guitarist has impressive hair - in line with rule 271 of the rock statute book
> They REALLY know how to put on a show
> This is what they look like:

> They look a bit ill in that photo but rest assured they're healthy in real life

The Darke Horse factfile:

> They are from Sheffield
> Other bands with this ‘set-up’ include Pulp
> ‘Text Me Back’ is brilliant…
> …and in one line manages to use McFly as part of quite a lengthy simile
> They dress like a soft indie band but play like proper bastards
> ROCK HANDBAGS ALERT! Sources close to the band (ie the guitarist’s girlfriend’s cousin) tell us that they hate the Arctic Monkeys (it’s something to do with rehearsal space)
> This is what they look like:

We’ll leave it up to you to decide whether this ‘new wave of old rock’ is all it’s cracked up to be (clue: it is if you‘re in the mood) by clicking here and here. Enjoy!

Burn Me Out

Manchester: full of people with ridiculous haircuts playing Stone Roses records to gullible students, right?

WRONG!

Some of the people with ridiculous haircuts are in brilliant electro bands:

Presenting The Tigerpicks, a new band from Manchester who have recently taken several things by storm (including the In The City conference and Deltasonic record label) by playing their own brand of noisy electro sexdisco to assorted impressed gawpers.

They are Frankie Ross, Martyn Anderson and Emma "Reece" Leatherbarrow; shown in some kind of order in the photo above. Assuming that the one in the middle is Martyn, we reckon that the one on the right of the picture looks like an Emma and the one on the left is therefore definitely Frankie. It could equally be the other way around though, we suppose.

Their signature tune (more bands should have them) is ‘Disco Punk Electro Funk’, which sounds like a non-boring indie band having a go at being Girls Aloud and getting away with it better than anyone could have expected. It is, therefore, amazing.

And when they’re not sounding like everyone’s favourite girl band, things get even more bonkers. ‘Crazy Juices’ is a big thumping bastard of an electro record very much of the hands-in-the-air school of these things; ‘Burn Me Out’ is more of the same with added rawk guitars and ridiculous operatic bits all over the place and ’Pow Pow Pow’ has a bit in it where the vocals go all old rave and urge the listener to “oooh trip the light fantastic” and so on, which is brilliant.

Revision Pointers:

: : Manchester
: : Electro
: : Good hair
: : Bits you think you can sing along to but find out you can’t when you actually try.
: : Massive danceability rating
: : Amazing

After the club we're going straight to my house

Friday Feeling, 5th Avenue, Manchester

5th Avenue bills itself as “Manchester’s No.1 Indie Venue” and is the main rival to the town’s other major indie club, the trendy scarves-and-haircuts haven of 42nd Street.

Let’s take a look at some of 5th Avenue’s indie credentials:

1) It is predominantly underground.
2) The music is deafening.
3) The drinks cost LESS THAN ONE POUND.

Basically it is what Steve Lamacq sees when he closes his eyes at night.

Friday nights at 5th (as local scenesters refer to it) is ‘Friday Feeling’, with “a mixture of indie and alternative dance to suit your taste”, which basically means you can expect to hear a bit of Fatboy Slim thrown into the usual mix of 2003’s latest indie smashes.

It’s not so much that the club is stuck in the past, as it’s tentative to embrace the future (no Hadouken!, Patrick Wolf or The Sounds, for example). They don’t take many risks. We know that ‘Banquet’ is great to dance to, but where are its successors?

Indeed, the main criticism of 5th Avenue is the static playlist, which makes regular visits a very predictable affair. You’re pretty much guaranteed to hear the same songs every week, with very few surprises or newies. This is fine if you just want to dance to your favourite indie records, but not so good if you’re looking for brand new tunage. Apparently they offer requests too, but we’re yet to see one fulfilled.

The best thing about the place is that they know to only play the most danceable indie records, and the forays into more electronic territory, while limited, should keep you bopping along nicely as well.

Also, the club is ridiculously cheap and fairly relaxed, and we have experienced some fantastic nights there. If you’re a student, an indie obsessive, or someone who doesn’t mind sticking to the floor if you so much as stand still for a second, it can’t be faulted.

Just be careful around the bouncers.

5th Avenue, Princess Street, Manchester
Friday Feeling: £2 before 11 with NUS/flyer, £4 after.

Whip Me Up

We haven’t written anything about The Whip yet; a fact which, as oversights go, surely ranks up there alongside the time Ian Brown forgot to write any tunes for the second Stone Roses album.

Unlike Brown though, we’ve got an opportunity to rectify things. So here goes.

1) The Whip are a band from Manchester.
2) They play big, dark, sexy dance records.
3) Two of them used to be in Nylon Pylon.
4) They are really very good indeed.

You’ve probably heard Muzzle No. 1 by now, one of the aforementioned dark, sexy dance records. It sounds a bit like being shown how to dance at a warehouse rave by some slightly-evil robots. With lasers. Similar in tone is ‘Trash’, a highlight of the last Kitsuné Maison compilation.

Another track of theirs is ‘Frustration’, a song that couldn’t be any more Manchester if it ran through Collyhurst in a City shirt shouting “Sorted!” at the top of it’s voice. It is this song that has seen the band compared favourably to early New Order, which is certainly no bad thing.

The Whip are touring pretty much constantly, so you should think it in your best interests to go and see them as soon as possible. hyg will be at their next Manchester show, so expect a full review and some amazing gig photography ‘as and when’.

In the meantime, enjoy their MySpace page.

We are but men, ROCK!!

A LIVE REVIEW
JOON, Manchester Hard Rock Cafe, 9 March 2007

Sometimes things just don’t matter. A headache. Too much booze. No money. Not enough booze. Sometimes you encounter something that is so much fun, cares like these become irrelevant and all you want to do is jump around and throw your arms skywards.

This is the case with JOON, pictured above in yet another example of our incredibly professional gig photography, a real band with real instruments who we went to watch at the weekend. They were playing at Manchester’s Hard Rock Café, which, as gig venues go, is not the most ideal. Putting bands on there is a bit like asking a rugby team to play a match in Walkabout, but they dealt with it admirably.

At first we didn’t really know what to expect. We had been told they were “a rock band”, three fearful words which brought to mind the time we spent at university watching useless sods in shit clothes not play their instruments very well.

Luckily, watching JOON is nothing like this.

They take to the stage guns blazing, efficiently and LOUDLY setting out their manifesto. True, JOON are a rock band, but they’re far from mediocre. Everything - from the tunes, to the clothes, to the hair - is cranked up to 11. If this band saw a half measure, they’d probably triple it and then give it a kicking for being a half measure in the first place. It is, quite frankly, that kind of thing.

That is not to accuse them of mindless bombast though, or a cynical Darkness-like knowingness. One thing you really take away from JOON is the sense that they genuinely love what they do. They’ve clearly spent a lot of time in the company of the records they roll out as covers tonight, and it shows in their own material as well as their persona. Their love of Free, Europe et al shines through in songs like ‘Walk Like You Don’t Care’, and they look so comfortable performing the covers you’d think they’d written them themselves.

If your 80s Power Rock Alarm has just gone off, do not fret. Fashion is not something you should worry about when faced with a band like JOON (besides, ‘Addicted To Love’ is amazing and anyone who says it isn’t is either wrong or a liar). What lies here is a fun, idiosyncratic, smile-inducing party of a band. Just let your hair down, let your guard down and give in to the power.