Ferris & Sylvester – Made In Streatham

Today, I’m wearing colourful socks. As part of my efforts to sort out drawers and wardrobes before heading off to Spain I’ve been decluttering. And yesterday evening, it was the sock and pant drawer that got a going over. 

Some decisions were easy. Some pairs of pants had seen better days in the gusset department and the novelty thong-like ones were never a good idea in the first place. I did wonder how I had come to acquire a collection of so many individual black and grey socks. How had they been festering in this drawer for so long? How were these sole socks in any way useful? I couldn’t bear the pain of matching them so the bin now has them.

Result – my sock and pant drawer now looks tidy and vibrant. I mightn’t wear many colourful clothes (black jacket, blue jeans being my go-to position) but I can excel in colourful socks. The bright yellow socks I kept are a sheer delight.

In other news, I’ve been enjoying a sneaky listen to the excellent new EP from Ferris & Sylvester which comes out on Friday. ‘Made In Streatham’ has 5 tracks on it all loosely detailing what modern life in London is like for this aspiring country-folk-pop duo.

They recently released a video for a fine track ‘Better In Yellow’. It’s an uplifting slice of bluesy Americana, which finds the pair adding big brass notes into their mix of guitar licks and beautiful harmonies. 

When asked about the song’s meaning the band say, “We liked the idea of writing about yellow being a positive state of mind, happy and vibrant, instead of settling for greyness. It can be easy to wear black and blend in. Sometimes though, it’s best to be yourself, put on some bright colours and not care too much.”

Which is exactly what I’m doing with my socks.

Another track from the EP, The Room, caught Sonic Breakfast’s attention in 2017. Like some of the finer moments of The Beautiful South, this duet (and accompanying video) charts the ups and downs in a fragile relationship between a couple. It’s both optimistic and desperate, beautiful and sad. And it’s definitely worth five minutes of your time. 

 

 

Buckwheat Zydeco

In an occasional Sonic Breakfast feature, I’ll head outside of my mailbox for inspiration. The PR companies can take a rest for I have a new way of finding music to feature; the random search. 

The idea – I use one of the many random word generators online to come up with a random word or words. I then use a Spotify search to see what songs or artists are listed when searching for that word.

I played the game and got ‘buckwheat’. I’d heard of Buckwheat Zydeco before but I confess I didn’t know much more. The internet is such an rich resource tool and I set about exploring. I’m glad I did. 

First stop – The Guardian obituary page (here) in September 2016:-

“The singer, accordionist, keyboard player and bandleader Stanley “Buckwheat” Dural Jr, who has died aged 68 from cancer, was a cultural ambassador for zydeco, the traditional dance and party music of black southern Louisiana. He was the first zydeco musician to be signed by a major record company, his albums were nominated for Grammy awards, his songs were heard on movie soundtracks and in television ads, he played at festivals in the US and Europe, and he opened shows for Eric Clapton and U2.”



68 is no age to die. We can all agree on that and lung cancer is an indiscriminate bitch. I watch some Buckwheat Zydeco videos and get carried away in the happy feeling they produce. The online obituaries all say largely the same things. I search for three Buckwheat things elsewhere on the web that might interest Sonic Breakfast readers. 

(Click on page 2 for those 3 things of interest)

David Thomas Broughton – The Cookie – November 22nd 2017

My good friend Paul Champion sent me a lovely review of a gig he went to in November. 

That sentence might be understood in a couple of ways. For clarity, Paul went to a gig in November and he also sent me a review in that month. Sonic Breakfast has been disappointingly tardy in publishing Paul’s efforts. For that, I apologise.

Here’s his fine review. I get a sense that he liked the gig.

The Cookie is on High Street, Leicester. The bar is at ground floor level and the venue is down in the cellar.

David Thomas Broughton is here early, with his partner and toddler.

Adam Weikert is first on stage. He plays keyboard with effects and occasional acoustic guitar. Adam has a beard, a bun and glasses, and a nice line in self-deprecation. He has a hesitant piano style, with chanting, which sounds like church music. There are children’s voices and birdsong, too. He has a system of switching lights on and off, so that we know when a song has finished and we can applaud. He’s good. In places his songs have a whisper of The Incredible String Band. He finishes with a song about suicide, called Rope.

Next on is Peter Wyeth. There’s still only a handful of people here. He plays acoustic guitar on a loop, sometimes with a stick. It’s intense and twiddly. He probably works with computers.

David Thomas Broughton is from Yorkshire. His consonants are hard. His voice is deep and high at the same time. The sweetest voice, but at the same time reminiscent of the brilliant Jake Thackray. He challenges. He makes you feel uncomfortable. He sings beautiful acoustic folk songs and disrupts them with blasts of noise from an effects pedal. He does weird body language, pulling at his trousers in a frottage kind of way, and patting his belly. He grabs at things that aren’t there. He takes his phone out of his pocket and concentrates on it while there’s a loop playing. Is he playing his mobile phone, or is he just playing with his mobile phone? He’s joined on stage by the two support acts, and a trombone player, and they form a band. He plays a gizmo like a Theremin. There’s no chat, no applause, it’s just one continuous number. Percussion comes from tapping pens on microphones and from the screw top of his drinks container. Before you can be an artist you have to be a craftsman. He knows his craft. Art is what artists do. Art makes you see things differently. This is art. Who can you say a genius is? Isaac Newton? Picasso? Townes Van Zandt? Not Bob Dylan. Not even Peter Hammill. David Thomas Broughton is a genius. Sirens. Love. Phew! Love.

A genuine encore. For 25 people who recognise his genius.

 

Erin Pellnat – Neighborhood Boys

I receive an E-mail from Erin Pellnat. It catches my eye one morning when I’m on the train heading into Birmingham.

Hello Sean“, says Erin.  “I write to introduce you to “Neighborhood Boys,”  a song about falling in love with a guy on a bus — but he gets off at his stop and leaves me with the neighborhood boys on the bus.” 

There’s a beautiful simplicity about Erin’s approach. I’m not averse to deep, philosophical songs about the meaning of life but sometimes such tunes can feel complicated, aloof and emotion-less. Sometimes, you want a simple premise that’ll tug at your heartstrings a bit; you want a three minute segment from your favourite tearjerker of a film; you want glorious romance albeit of an unrequited kind.

I take a listen to Erin’s track. There’s something about her voice that gets me. There’s no over-the-top warbles or ridiculous squeezing of pitch. It’s all very considered and mannered. Yet it’s in that very understated vocal that the emotion (of which there’s plenty) comes through. In many ways, for me at least, it invokes a similar sort of feel to that I get when I listen to the late 1960’s work of Bobbie Gentry or Dusty Springfield. And that’s high praise. 

I notice when I check back through my E-mails that Erin had sent me one previously to highlight the release of her earlier EP, Dream In Color. Rudely, I’d not even replied to that. I’m glad that Erin didn’t get the hump with me for that and kept sending me mails. It pays to be persistent. 

I wonder if ultimately persistence will pay off for Erin with the guy on the bus? I guess we’ll have to watch this space!

 

 

 

 

 

Blue Rose Code – Ebb And Flow

A cold, grey wintry Monday morning and it’s hard to think that ‘everything is alright’. It’d no doubt be easier to hibernate under the bed covers until the next tint of blue creeps through my curtains. It’s so easy to say that I can’t be bothered with today.

But that’s hardly adopting the principle of ‘Carpe Diem’. I can grumble as much as I like but the truth is I’ve got a fair bit to live for at the moment – the progression towards redundancy; getting the house ready for rental and the year of living in Spain. It’s not looking at things through rose tinted specs to say that today is full of opportunity.

And as I grasp these thoughts I pull back my curtains and see some blue sky.

I’m drawn to this uplifting tune and new video from Blue Rose Code.

Blue Rose Code, aka acclaimed singer-songwriter Ross Wilson, released his latest album, The Water Of Leith, in Autumn 2017. It met with some top-notch reviews from Folk, Acoustic and Americana magazines all declaring that this was Wilson’s best release to date. The previous ones had hardly been flops. 

(See what Sonic Breakfast thinks by clicking on page 2)

Miss Eaves – Paper Mache (Single AF)

Sunday morning and I need to get Groningen out of my system. I notice that Miss Eaves released a new video whilst I was away and take a look. I’m glad I did.

 

Interest around Miss Eaves grew whilst I wasn’t blogging much last year but I made sure I watched the string of entertaining, message-laden videos she released. Thunder Thighs, a glorious early single from her album, Feminasty, went viral. It’s a wonderful celebration of the beauty that can and should be found in bodies of all shapes and sizes. 

Miss Eaves is the feminist sound storm of Brooklyn based multimedia artist Shanthony Exum. Her fierce femcee electro-pop-rap-dance-explosions are pretty stunning and Sonic Breakfast readers could do well to check out that 2017 album. 

‘Paper Mache (Single AF)’ is her new track from an as-yet unreleased EP and it’s all about the joys of being single. It’s a bolshy, strident song about healthy self-esteem, about the happiness that can be gained from staying in on a Friday night with only your arts and crafts for company. It’s a middle finger to establishment thinking that suggests happiness is best served when in a couple. There’s nothing wrong in that but neither should people feel like pariahs for doing it their own way.

And Miss Eaves is making a career out of doing it exactly her own way.

 
 

ESNS – A more gentle Friday!!?

Perhaps I’m a bit jaded after overdoing things at Eurosonic on Wednesday and Thursday. Perhaps, somewhere in the back of my head a sensible voice is telling me that ‘you’re travelling home tomorrow and you don’t want to miss your connections’. Whatever the reason, Friday at ESNS doesn’t kick off with the vigour of the previous days.

I go for a walk around parts of Groningen I’d not previously visited. I commend myself for my pursuit of something healthy as I stroll around a very pretty lake within a park. It starts to snow; not that picture-postcard type of snow but the sludgey variety that quickly turns to icy water underfoot. I curse myself for being out in the open air and yearn for a warm cafe/pub. They’re not difficult to find in these parts. 

 

I am in Lola (Lola is a venue in this town). It’s another place that I failed to visit last year; a compact one-roomed venue, ornately decorated with chandeliers and baroque, garish art. The room is packed as ‘Afterpartees’ take to the stage. I’ve noticed that Dutch bands can anticipate enthusiastic, full crowds, probably to be expected when on home soil. For this show, the queues outside of the venue snake down the road and round the corner. It’s easy to see why. Afterpartees deliver a bubblegum power punk pop with youthful energy. Their lead singer is a ball of energy as he fizzes in angular fashion around the venue. He jumps into the crowd and breaks down, questioning his very existence, in front of a mirror hanging at the back of venue. It’s too much for two older chaps standing behind me who giggle at the ‘schoolboy band’ and yearn for ‘something heavier’. But, I think they should open their minds and chill out a bit. It’s hard not to grin in appreciation when Afterpartees are in full flow. 

 

 

I’d been inside Lola earlier as well. The BUMA Rocks! showcase sounds interesting and not just because there’s free beer on offer. I say hello to a lovely chap, Waldo, who I met last year when at Fira B! In Mallorca (here). I had no idea that he’s compering this event, something that he seems to do very proficiently even if I have little clue what he’s saying. For I Am King take to the stage. Sonic Breakfast prides itself on being open to all genres of music but confesses that screamo metal mostly passes me by. You can’t get away from the fact though that when done well it’s an exciting live proposition. And For I Am King are great. I’m no expert in this field but I’d hazard a guess that the majority of screamo singers are male; it’s why it’s so great to see Alma Alizadeh front up this band. She does so with incredible presence, her guttural growls at least the equal and often better than male counterparts. The whole band put on a show, guitarists jumping into the spotlight as they unleash complicated solos on us. A moshpit forms and I’m almost tempted to jump on in. But then I remembered I’m an older man. For I Am King have definitely blown away the cobwebs. 

 

 

I spotted many of the crowd from BUMA Rocks! later in the evening at Myrkur’s gig in the Lutherse Kerk. The Lutherse Kerk is another of Groningen’s wonderful church venues. There’s something wonderfully decadent and a tad inappropriate about drinking beer from a church pew looking out to an antique, wooden pulpit. Myrkur is an enigma; that’s what many say about her. From Denmark, this classically trained wonder has specialised in ethereal, folk-laced dark metal to date. As such, it seems brave to put this on in a church. But the organisers know what they’re doing. Tonight’s show from Myrkur is dreamlike and choral. She moves from piano to acoustic instruments ably supported by her band and singers. I think this might be reworkings of traditional folk songs. It’s beautiful and angelic, not nearly heavy enough for the metal fans who come to explore and leave complaining that it’s not their thing. Those that do stay (and there are many) close their eyes, ignore those grumbles and are taken away to a place of magic. Purely perfect.

 

 

Whilst you can quickly walk between many of the Eurosonic venues there are a few that are on the periphery. There are some great acts playing further out of town tonight and if it wasn’t so blooming cold and snowy I could be tempted to go and see Bad Sounds. I saw them three times in 2017 and they never failed to disappoint. I owe them a blog post of their own at some point. 

 

 

I stay central and after passing time with the fine Altin Gun (1970’s psychedelia with a delightful Turkish glaze), I head to see Zulu Zulu. I had to really after they featured in a previous preview blog post (here). Since that random discovery, I’ve spent a fair bit of time with their album. It meant that I could claim faint familiarity whilst dancing along to their sunshine grooves. The masks, the lights, the sheer euphoria of it all means I never really want it to stop. But, as always happens when you’re enjoying yourself too much it’s all over far too quickly.

 

 

And that seems like an appropriate time to call an end to my 2018 Eurosonic experience. The gigs continue on Saturday with the Dutch music showcase, the Noorderslag, taking place in the Oosterport convention centre but reluctantly I have to head back to the UK. 

I wander past Vera one final time and make note of the lengthy queues outside as Astroid  Boys play inside. It’s been an epic adventure, a wonderful experience to spend these few days in Groningen and I’m already thinking about 2019.