Arriving in Brighton on the last leg of a victory lap around the UK following the critical acclaim to their long-awaited debut, You Say I’m Too Much, I Say You’re Not Enough, Estrons provoked absolute scenes at the Green Door Store. Like all of the best things in life, it is jagged, ragged and wild. Headlining a dream line-up alongside Lucia and Berries, it acts as the perfect gateway into the weekend.
Canadian Rose Cousins has the voice of an angel, so the Unitarian Church is the perfect venue for her. Her vocal fills the room as does her personality. Between songs she holds conversation comfortably about herself and her music. She also asks where she can get the best Full English breakfast in Brighton before inviting the audience to ask questions in return. Someone wants to know who inspires her musically? The reply is, not surprisingly, Patty Griffin and Joni Mitchell “and many others”. The likeness is uncanny due to Rose’s own emotional honesty and vulnerability and soaring use of melody – using piano, then guitar, then ukulele to accompany her traditional songwriting. Borrowing from the best of America’s folk/country sirens, she brings a reverence to the Unitarian Church but also a homeliness. She talks about her choice not to have kids and laughs at the delighted shouts that acknowledge this announcement, then encourages a backing choir from the crowd and graciously thanks tonight’s headliner by admiring his “strong head of hair”. Playing many tracks from her 2017 Grammy-nominated album Natural Conclusion, you can see her in her own show on 1st April next year at The Greys. It will be worth the wait.
Just over a year ago, we witnessed a band at Komedia Studio Bar that truly captured the imaginations of teenage girls and drove them into a state of euphoria. It’s fitting, then, that a year on, a band that supported them on tour has accomplished exactly the same thing in exactly the same venue. The band is Uxbridge quartet Bloxx, who drove their majority teenage girl audience at Komedia Studio Bar into a state of despair with their dizzying take on garage rock, indie-rock and indie-pop. With an extremely dedicated crowd loving every minute and a ridiculously impressive set bursting with brilliant singles, Bloxx looked and sounded every bit the band of the moment.
There is hardly anyone in the room to watch opening act, Brighton-based duo, Instant Bin. With foundations firmly in punk-rock, they deliver a short, fast-paced set that seems to please the few people watching. Drummer, Liv, and bassist, Harry, seem sweet and what they lack in musical diversity they make up for with a natural ease with the audience that makes them memorable. Most of their songs are between one and two minutes long and, while they do seem a little under-rehearsed, the nature of what the band are doing means it doesn’t really matter that much. Tracks like ‘Eggshells’ and ‘Bin Day’ champion shouty vocals and chugging rhythm so if that’s your sort of thing, you could do worse than check out Instant Bin next time they play.
Some people bemoan a lack of artistic development in record labels these days. This is hogwash, of course. For sure, it may be a tad easier to get dropped too quickly, but in reality it has always been that way. Back in 1962, Bob Dylan’s debut album shifted only 5,000 copies in its first year (admittedly, a decent sum these days), reaching No.13 in the UK but getting absolutely nowhere in the States. Dylan was nicknamed “Hammond’s Folly” by waggish Columbia execs. They wanted to drop him. John Hammond, who discovered him, fought his corner hard, and the rest, as they say, is history.
There was a time when Pretty Vicious were touted as the UK’s next big rock band. Championed by Huw Stephens, as well as some huge shows with the likes of Stereophonics in their native Wales, the band swiftly signed a record deal with Virgin EMI. Then, everything went quiet. They silently (and mutually) parted ways with the label, and had to regroup. Now signed to Big Machine Records, the band are currently moving through somewhat of a renaissance, and their Brighton show was another step on the road to recovery.
There are many beautiful things to love about Brighton, especially when it comes to music. One such thing is that whenever a particular buzz band comes to town, on a tour that has seen them play bigger venues in the likes of London and Manchester, they’re always squeezed into a 150-capacity room. As such, it almost doubles up the atmosphere and, for sold out shows like Easy Life at Green Door Store, makes them seem like momentous occasions. As a result, due to Easy Life’s spellbinding power, too, this was one of the finest shows of the year and, for a band on their first headline tour, this looked and sounded like a band playing to triple the amount of people.
The Dome must be the only Brighton venue that doesn’t have a mirrorball. Thankfully, this doesn’t detract from the wildly beautiful country-blues of Prinz Grizzley, aka Christopher Comper, and his three-piece band, His Beargaroos. They are slowly winning the audience over. There is barely anyone watching at first but it is probably the power behind the quartet that draw people in from the bar. Live, he is so much better than on record, a slide guitar sounding more desolate in the high ceiling above us. Comper’s voice is distinctive but comparable to Caleb Followill in range and intensity, howling at the moon from his trailer park or, at least, a remote farm somewhere in his native Austria. Going back to a time where music was a simpler beast, he pens love songs that are best listened to up a mountain wearing a cowboy hat. Prinz Grizzley and co are uncomplicated boys from “A little village in Europe” and, by the end of their set, I just want to hop in the back seat of their Americana-fuelled pick up and listen to them round the campfire every night. A big, big sound.
What else to do when the rain is lashing down and the wind is whipping you in the face but go and stand in a hushed room, watching two men perform some experimental music? Watching Group Listening could only be described as a ‘what the f*ck’ moment. As in, no one really knows what’s going on but at the same time want to know more about this peculiar duo, who seem awkward faced with the polite applause of a rather bemused Brighton. Their debut album, Clarinet & Piano: Selected Works Vol. 1 features ambient works from the likes of Brian Eno and Robert Wyatt – Welshman Stephen Black, on clarinet, is best known as Sweet Baboo (who has previously collaborated with Gruff) and pianist Paul is acclaimed in the genre of jazz and noise improv. Both are undoubtedly talented, using their instruments, cassette recordings and other manipulative techniques to create atmospheric instrumentals. However, it appears that the crowd was not expecting something so, well, weird because few seem to get it; amazing given that we are in a city named this year as the hipster capital of the world, surely a place that this sort of thing was invented for.
“This is my favourite city”, gushes Tiger Lion’s Clementine Blue in her alluring French accent. Dressed in a pale silk kimono which sets off her perfect red curls, she looks every inch the intense electronic goddess that she is. The two guys with her on guitar and drums look slightly less passionate but ably accompany her purest vocal, as does the sampling box she uses to add variety and depth to their songwriting. Obvious influences are St Vincent and Tame Impala, but also classic painters – Blue is a visual artist herself and cites Hokusai’s famous Prussian blue as another inspiration for their new single ‘Black Sea’. Although this all sounds a bit pretentious, Tiger Lion champion brooding and atmospheric tunes that should put them yet more firmly on the map in Brighton’s gig scene, a fact Blue may be particularly grateful for. Her manner is confident yet modest, which, combined with a strong sense of identity, means that there is something compelling about them. “We’ve got two songs left”, she says, before looking at the promoter to check. “Haven’t we?” It appears not as she then turns to her bandmates to tell them that’s it. What a shame that the set was cut short. We shall look forward to the next time. Merci beaucoup.