Category: The Cuff

Words by Matthew Osborne

With the rain persisting and the temperature no warmer than a fridge, I look forward to an evening of folk around a roaring fire in one of the many snugs inside the Prince of Wales. However I am dismayed to learn, upon my arrival, that tonight’s musical entertainment will take place in the beer garden. Outside.

Luckily the Prince of Wales‘ garden is blessed with outdoor heaters and a large canvas, shielding us from the elements. But the weather is not backing down, and as Mellow Peaches take to the stage puddles form around my feet; the heaters not making their presence felt at my front row vantage point.

Fortunately Mellow Peaches, opening with ‘Mayflower’ – from their debut LP I’ll Go Down with this Ship, immediately transport me to the Mississippi Delta; the heat and humidity of this imagined place enough to warm me through.

Although lead singer, Amit Dattani, appears a little more detached than I am used to seeing him; eventually warming up after a few songs with partner Rich Harris and some of the gently amusing between-song-banter that so endears this talented duo. I guess we all need some help to fight tonight’s cold.

Chris Cleverley follows with a display of dexterous finger picking, but a sound that’s more firmly rooted in the familiar soil of Albion turf. Romantically wistful songs about wanting to be a missing person in a fishing village in Cornwall, and a delightful cover of Joni Mitchell’s ‘Carrie’, beat back the sound of rain hitting canvas and almost complement the weather conditions. Tonight Cleverley‘s rich guitar and delicate voice epitomise the cold nostalgia of England’s green and pleasant land.

The evening’s headliner, David Campbell, is a wise man of heritage. After a long and cold wait for his arrival, he begins his set with a trio of a capella ballads; the third of which tells the lamentable tale of a man from Waterford who took up with a slave ship. Campbell’s songs, whether traditional or from his own family line, tell tales that feel a little like a history lesson. But rather than wanting to escape from the descending cold to huddle round the open fire I know to be inside, I find myself transfixed, certain that this man is teaching me something vital.

Accompanied by the gentle strumming of a ukulele or the delicate plucking of banjo strings, Campbell continues with stories of men who avoided the D-Day landing and took refuge in Italy, and of soldiers disillusioned with the First World War, before inviting us to join him in singing three spirituals, which we do. It is a moment of unison like friends gathered around a campfire.

For the finale Campbell brings on his son, Nathan Jervis – who plays an enchanting trumpet, and the rest of the night’s acts; performing, as an ensemble, a number of American roots standards which are only hindered by a poor sound mix.

It is only at this point I begin to wish we were in one of the Prince‘s smaller rooms, huddled together as the instruments merge acoustically without the hiss of electricity.

But whilst the Prince of Wales may not be an ideal music venue at the tail end of winter, most of tonight has built a warmth I can feel on the inside; that communal sense of sitting around a fire, trading stories and songs.

And some deserved attention to David Campbell, Mellow Peaches and Chris Cleverley, who held tight an audience who could just as easily have gone home to the warmth of their beds.

For more on Mellow Peaches, visit http://www.mellowpeaches.co.uk

For more on Chris Cleverley, visit https://www.facebook.com/chriscleverleymusic

 For more on the Prince of Wales (Moseley), visit http://www.theprincemoseley.co.uk

Words by Althea Patterson / Pics by Lucy Heath

If you’ve been curious about going to a Jazz night, but felt put off at the prospect of it being chock full of Louis Balfour types, then rest assured – at York’s Cafe & Bakery not a bad bowl cut or Polo neck jumper were to be seen.  This is seemingly where the cool folk go on a Monday, as curious and cold passersby looked in through the large Newhall Street front window.

An easygoing crowd munched pizzas, sipped fine blended teas and displayed an array of impressive tattoos to rival to art on the walls; positioning themselves at the best vantage point for the aptly titled ‘Bakery Sessions’.

Eschewing polo necks for Adidas and Diesel, the band got down to entertaining us loudly and heartily. I could list their songs, their interplay; but frankly, I was too busy having a fantastic time just watching them. But I will mention a voluptuous rendition of Thelonious Monk’s Green Chimneys that led us down a winding bourbon soaked alley, where I wanted to stay all night long.

The room soon packed out with people and instrument cases lining the tables. I was lucky to get a front row seat, a nose length away from band leader Percy Pursglove’s trumpet spit valve – nothing like it.

As for the rest of the band; guitarist Gareth Fowler may not have been moving as much as some would like, but he was in his own world where strings and wood ruled. A study of concentration, he played beautifully much to the obvious respect of his band mates; I adored him.

Bass player Mark Hodgson played his instrument with aplomb and ease, and as you don’t see a double bass every day I revelled in its unapologetically bossy sound. Bass players always look so damn cool in my opinion…

Elsewhere we had Chris Young, Ewan Palmer, Mark Fletcher; and I apologise if I don’t get all musician’s names, but the whole evening’s line up were fantastically entertaining.

So stick it in your diary, Jazz night/Bakery Sessions at York’s Cafe & Bakery every Monday. Get out there and listen to something new, live and local; see fingers slap, pluck and stroke strings, alongside crisp brass notes and effortless percussion. Wonderful stuff.

And at the tail end of a cold February, with a bevy of tea, coffee & cakes only an arm’s length away, I can’t think of a better way to warm yourself up.

For more about York’s Cafe & Bakery, including further details about menus & events, visit http://www.yorksbakerycafe.co.uk

Words by John Noblet / Pics by Jonathan Morgan

When dispatched by Birmingham Review to a gig I don’t always make it in time to see the support band, something I feel vaguely guilty about. However in this instance, being late might have been the better option.

Missing Batsch, I did catch Amateur Best – with a live show that consists of him standing behind a load of music gear with wires coming out of it; then singing over the aforementioned machines and occasionally playing a brass instrument, which I think is a bugle. The bugle is a nice touch and gets everyone’s attention when he starts playing it at the beginning of the opening track. However it soon goes away, and I am afraid to say so does my interest in his performance. 

The backing, coming from whatever it is Amateur Best has up there, is pleasant enough sounding House; broken up with the odd, tastefully chosen James Blake style bass wobble or Hip Hop beat. Amateur Best sings in a way that is entirely technically correct, but for me, does nothing to spark emotional involvement. There’s a vague, air brushed melancholy to it all that seems to suggest the poor lad may have had some girlfriend trouble at some point.

It may seem like I’m being overly mean, but all the elements of what Amateur Best was doing on stage added up to not much at all. I feel bad saying that about an artist who’s still in the early stages of his career, but it’s the truth. Or my truth at least.

And I’ve got no problems with solo performers going on stage with nothing more than a bit of technical wizardry and a mic. But a lack of other musicians up there means your music should be particularly striking and/or your onstage charisma sky high.

Amateur Best is lacking in both departments tonight; and as much as I try to find something to enjoy, I instead struggle with the kind of bitchy, irritable boredom that makes me ‘overly mean’. Like observing his outfit and hairdo resembles one of the nice guys on Hollyoaks, and how on earth someone thought this was good enough to tour with so much promotional backing. Catty, right? Possibly. I did warn you.

Outfit fare better. Musically, they belong to that post-Hot Chip school of left field pop with a touch of MGMT about the vocals. Added to this is a distinctly post Punk flavour, right down to the neat dark shirts the band wear (buttoned to the neck obviously) and the minimal lighting, which involves barely any house lights and a few desk lamps dotted around the stage. Though hardly an original trick, it does seem to suit their slightly shy stage presence.

The music itself is meticulously constructed; mid pace rhythms building tension, whilst the keyboards, guitars and what-not, push the dynamics to some lovely sounding peaks – all with a distinctly chemical fizz to them. The vocals fit nicely in the mix, with some good melodies, and the idea of Outfit one day having a big hit one day seems plausible, even if they’ve yet to write it. Outfit fit nicely into that Indie-with-synths niche which seems to be endlessly popular.

However (and you knew there was a ‘however’ coming about two paragraphs ago) this is not enough for me. I don’t want music to sterilise and compartmentalise every negative emotion, encasing it in a trendy looking case. And that’s what’s happening tonight.

The intricate layers and delicately built crescendos serve to obscure Outfit’s point, rather than express it more clearly. They come across as a band whose music is so relentlessly self studied, analysed, mulled over and tweaked, that there’s barely any passion or urgency left in it.

And that’s the crux of the issue – do you go to a gig because you want to nod your head to some nice music, or because you’re looking for some borderline transcendental experience? Something slightly bewildering and terrifying that explores feelings you might not be ready to admit you had?

Personally, I go to gigs for the latter. I go because at the right time and place, live music can open you up to vistas of unimaginable wonder.

Outfit undoubtedly make some good music, and I’m sure for some people they’re the perfect ‘date band’; but for me, I’m afraid, there’s just not enough in it tonight.

For more on Outfit, visit http://www.everynightidressupasyou.com

For more on Amateur Best, visit http://www.amateurbest.co.uk

For more on Batsch, visit https://www.facebook.com/batschmusic

For further listings at the Hare & Hounds, visit http://hareandhoundskingsheath.co.uk

Words by John Noblet / Pics by Jonathan Morgan

Anticipation and the smell of hipster hang heavy in the air tonight. The Hare & Hounds is rammed with people staring expectantly at the stage whilst a man in a stripy jumper plays bass heavy, cool guy House music with impeccable taste. There’s some activity on the stage; you can just about make out a few anonymous looking human shapes up there through the fog. One of them could be Connan Mockasin himself for all we know.

It becomes apparent that the show has started when a voice asks us “are you having a good time?” The owner of the voice cannot be seen on stage, and the voice has some kind of weird, sub Darth Vader effect on it. Someone shouts back “Yes” but the voice repeats the question a few times more, seemingly for no reason.

The awkward looking humans on the stage are now making music, locking into a slow discotheque groove with decidedly sinister undertones. It seems to go on for the longest time, finally slowing to a complete halt. At the last second Connan Mockasin appears onstage and everybody claps – this audience seem very keen to applaud.

Connan Mockasin is carrying a bottle of red wine and has the slightly smug, confident air of a man who’s just won his ninth Oscar. He seems to have selected his outfit at random from a village jumble sale, wearing an odd straw coloured sun hat and a leather jacket that must have been made for an eight year old. It is now obvious to everyone in the room that Connan Mockasin is a very cool guy.

The first song starts and has a similar feel to the opening piece, except this time there’s vocals. In fact pretty much the whole set follows the same formula – sparse, down tempo backing with a subtle Funk feel, decorated by unsettling shards of melody from either Mockasin‘s guitar or his strange, eerie vocals.

The most obvious musical reference point is French chill out sophisticates Air in their darker moments, but there’s a seductive creepiness to the music being made tonight that I haven’t really heard anywhere else. I particularly like the guy’s guitar playing – I mention this not because I think it’s essential to have a great guitar player in a band, it’s just I’ve played guitar myself for over twenty years and now it’s very rare that I like anyone’s guitar playing. Connan Mockasin plays in a manner half way between someone who’s just picked up the instrument, not knowing what key the song is in, and someone who’s studied for years and years to play exactly the right note in the right place. He’s off kilter yet perfectly in sync at the same time.

In the between song breaks Mr Mockasin reveals himself to be a genial, humourous host – my personal favourite stage banter includes the announcement “this song is the title track off the new album. It’s called ‘title track’…” and a long conversation with a man with a very broad Black Country accent named Alan. His eccentric stage persona reminds me a little of Beck, though in comparison he looks a lot more comfortable up there than Beck ever did.

Tonight, Connan Mockasin demonstrates the total self belief necessary to be successful front man. It has been said that to know whether or not you are a leader, you should just look over your shoulder and if people are following you, you are a leader. Connan Mockasin has the air of a man that decided spontaneously to climb a mountain one day, then was pleasantly surprised to turn around half way up and find the whole village was following him. It’s not difficult to imagine him on much bigger stages than this, say charming the pants off a well to do crowd at a boutique festival somewhere.

The last number in the set is ‘Forever Dolphin Love’ from the first album. It conjures up the same calm but doomed beauty as the rest of the set, with its selection of tempo changes and killer hook that won’t leave me alone nearly eighteen hours later.

I don’t know if it’s because every piece I’ve read about Connan Mockasin references the fact he’s from New Zealand, or the surfy twang to the guitar sound, but something tonight has me thinking of the sea.

Maybe it’s the duality of so many sea side locations – on the one hand you have fun, holidays, attractive scenery and relaxation. On the other hand, you have isolation, off season depression, risky sexual behaviour and the fact that the ocean can swallow up a living breathing human any time it wants to. The music made tonight veers towards the latter.

The final tune twists and turns to its climax. A few of us jig about a bit, the rhythm’s danceable but it doesn’t seem like anyone else is game. Its clear there will be no encores. We clap and clap and clap, and then we all obediently file back out into the night.

For more on Connan Mockasin, visit https://www.facebook.com/connanmockasin

For further gig listings at the Hare & Hounds (Kings Heath), visit http://hareandhoundskingsheath.co.uk

Words by John Noblet / Pics by Jonathan Morgan

I’m out of my comfort zone tonight. For once, I’m not in a darkened venue surrounded by skinny jeaned hipsters drinking lager from plastic cups. I’m in the Arcadian Centre too, an area I almost never go by choice, to watch Heidi Vogel – a singer perhaps best known for her work with The Cinematic Orchestra.

Tonight’s performance is in The Green Room, which sounds like a venue but in actual fact is a laidback eatery that’s more sophisticated than I’m used to. And after the initial shock of being in what could easily be the setting for a date scene in Friends, I do the polite thing and order a coffee.

As Vogel begins her set the first thing that hits me is her incredible voice; full and rich, the kind of vocals that fit perfectly over Jazz, Soul, Reggae, Electronica… tonight she is backed by a percussionist and acoustic guitar player.

The set consists of Brazilian style material, presumably from Heidi Vogel’s recently released debut album – Turn Up the Quiet, filled out with the odd cover or standard. The musicians provide a nuanced backing for Vogel‘s soaring voice, going for extended musical breaks which are focused enough to avoid the pitfalls of Jazz inflected noodling.

The second thing that hits me is a variation on one of the oldest chat up lines in the world – i.e. “what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” The obvious setting for Heidi Vogel is a hushed Jazz club, with her spotlighted on a small stage – and in some respects The Green Room is to be commended for finding such a high calibre of musician to entertain their Saturday night crowd.

But whilst it’s not unusual for extremely good musicians to earn money on this kind of gig circuit, I got the clear impression a lot of people in The Green Room that night were simply there to have a meal rather than listen to music. Pretty much every song was followed by warm applause, but the chatter during the music did make the intricacies difficult to pick out at times.

(Although having the musicians perform with The Green Room’s glass frontage as a cool backdrop, and watching the Saturday night revellers walk past the window, was an added bonus for me.  I was also pleased to note brightly coloured sequins are still fashionable amongst a certain crowd)

After a quick break the musicians start to change around and we get a different guitarist and more percussion. It all seems fairly informal and improvised; the between-song conferring suggesting that a lot of what happens is decided on the spot. But I’m close enough to the players to see it’s definitely Vogel that’s leading it all, and at one point I hear her hiss “chorus” at one of the guitarists.

Towards the end of her set, Vogel gets Sonia Indigo up to sing a few songs; who, after faltering a bit, turns in a beautiful version of ‘Georgia’.

Sonia Indigo has been part of Birmingham’s music scene for years now and her voice never fails to move me – producers looking for a female vocalist ought to go knocking on her door before asking anyone else.

All in all, it’s a very pleasant evening. Heidi Vogel‘s music may be too relaxed for some people, but there’s enough going on to prevent it being purely ‘background’ –  and if her style of music does appeal (Acoustic, Jazz, Brazilian) then you won’t find much better.

And just as Heidi Vogel’s first wave of success was with The Cinematic Orchestra, an act whose launch was perfectly timed to coincide with a wave of popularity for Chill Out music, let’s hope the tides of fashion bring her some more good luck in the not too distant future.

For more on Heidi Vogel, visit http://www.heidivogel.com/

For more on The Green Room, visit http://www.thegreenroomcafebar.co.uk/