Sons of Noel and Adrian 18/02/2009

A choir of booming voices, whistling, a multitude of instruments, a man with an incredible, indescribable, deep, low voice and a background of passion. Sons of Noel and Adrian are from the Midlands, there can be eleven members, there can be five, all have the ability to embed themselves into every note they play. They now reside in Brighton, which is where Mr Mumford and Co, met them and took them flying in their tour bus. On this night, the collection of men entered the stage, lumberjacks, thick rolling hair and sensitive, yet confident smiles as they set up their instruments. A violin started playing, long languorous notes, and silence was set upon the audience. Next a beautiful, light guitar rode next to the violin, and then the unique voice came streaming from the voice of Jacob. They all cantered for a while before drifting dreamily off with one long, slow flap of a bird’s wings, taking you gliding over the hills and oceans. This particular song I am describing here is named Inside Olympia, yet every song they played had the same ethereal quality. Whilst each musician was performing throughout, it seemed that each member was in their own sphere, the music was taking them to somewhere very private. They would sway their heads, closing their eyes they would point their faces down to the wooden floors, or up to the lights. The lead singer, Jacob, had a small frown on his face as the words came from him, with thought and precision. This crease would release as the notes built up to a massive musical outburst from the group. They all stamped their foot in time, reverberating it around the underground blackness, and moved wildly about on stage, like impassioned lovers.



The loud strumming of the guitar, the feisty violin, the double bass, banjo etc. it is the gold pot at the end of the rainbow, the colours streaming in. It is romanticism, country people meeting the city lights, it is the ocean, the trees, the love and the excesses. Pure and delicious, Sons of Noel and Adrian should wear a little sticky Organic label; from the pastures of England and the coastal sweeps, the weeping willows and the buzzing bees, sprout these musical hearts, and take you to their land on a hush of a breeze.

Mumford and Sons 18/02/2009

Streaming and flowing through the low ceilinged room, the guitar notes swirl and spiral, cushioning and blending with the folksy, powerful voice of Marcus. Then the banjo starts to play, and the piano. Then the drum and the tambourine, and then the whole lot begin to rapidly increase in speed and intensity. The guitar gets louder and louder, and the sweat starts to drip. A furrow on the brow, a stomp of the feet and then, like a rocket arriving in space, you are happily transported to a folk rave. You are at the mercy of the notes, floating around, sliding on Saturn’s rings, swinging around the stars. Before once again being taking back down to earth with that voice and those slow notes. All of this is powered by the hands, mouths and hearts of four men, each with their own quirks comfortably exposed on stage. Mumford & Sons take you on a journey, fast paced strumming, mixing with meltingly slow.

Watching the band live makes their sound and talent impact, a whole lot more forceful. The multi instrument playing, the quality of the husky lead voice and the rising climatic combined sound, contentedly delve into the spirits. White Blank Page is a beautiful song. A man lying next to a woman, can he say that his heart is in the same place as his body is? Cue only rage, love, attention and huge anguish. The latter shown through the violin strings, and the acapella. Culminating in the ‘truth’s’ banjos and further acapella. This crescendo building is a bit of a formula for Mumford & Sons, and ensures those listening experience heightened sense of the instruments, the emotions and the folk. A proper ‘ho down’, as Winston said.



I went outside and chatted to one of the band members (the one who chatted on stage the most, Winston). I asked him if he was enjoying tour life, (I could see he clearly was). He said with the exception of his previous night, attempting to chat to girls and then running away like a little rabbit (perhaps), he absolutely loved it, and proceeded to show me his tattoo symbolising his love of ‘The Tour’. He rolled up his sleeve, and there was the word, ‘TOUR’ tattooed on his arm. Love the tour. Winston is an endearing man and I hope that he retains this shy, deeper side, juxtaposed with a distinct cheekiness. One of the band’s qualities is a proper realness, not doing it for the money ambience. Rather they are just spreading their music, hence the lack of album release, as they build their fan base with small gigs like this one. They are right here and right there, your local, the little and the big festival, on the plane, on a bus, enjoying right now, as Mr TOUR said they are, ‘doing what they love doing’ with their mates.

If you can’t watch them in a dark wooded pub, watch them in Summer drinking Cider, with knitwear round your waist and grass on the floor.

Krafty Kuts Motion 6/02/2009

Phew, what a massive line up. This was a pretty grimy night, full of dark beats and squashed up excitement. Motion is quite the epic club. Skate park and warehouse world, spiralling into smaller rooms, and a ferociously cold decking area by the river. The atmosphere was very friendly and both Audio Bullys and Krafty Kuts performed some magic from their heights. There was a large smattering of glitter too for your pleasure, in the shape of ‘Bitch ‘n’ Stitch’, who’ll perform some colourful magic upon the face – brightening you up like Tinkerbell. Because of course, in a way, that’s what this was, Peter Pan, the lost boys, kids who don’t want to grow up, because the parties are so much fun. And mortgages are not. We are all kids dancing around and embracing these years before they trot away from us. This night was a beat lover’s heaven, a short and sparkly night if you wanted it to be, or a long endless one, if that’s your fancy, depending on whether the next day needs to contain anything. With such a good line up and venue though, perhaps everyone should embrace these multicoloured nights in some way at least once in a while.

Karima Francis Review 03/02/2009

When Karima Francis strutted on stage, shiny leggings, vintage jumper and a big mass of hair, then immediately fiddled with her curls and looked cheekily out to the audience, she visibly became the oxymoron that she is. A mad, powerful and effortless ranging voice, with a confident, startling look and incredible presence when she unleashes her sound, combined with shyness, a youth and distinct northern charm.

As soon as that first note escaped Karima, with its perfect and yet startlingly raw sound, mini goose bumps hurtled through me like antelope running from a lion. Literally the most ridiculous live voice I have heard for a very long time. The Cooler wasn’t packed, but it was a nice crowd, some sitting, some slowly absent mindedly swaying. The atmosphere was friendly as each person escaped to their own melodic cabin. Joined by her guitar with its brash little neon ‘Blackpool’ sticker, and her beautifully calm guitarist, the act was such a simple set up. This unfussiness served to support the naivety of her heart’s lyrics and expose 21 year old Karima’s talent. There are hints of Tracey Chapman in her voice, but it’s hard to say she’s like any particular artist, as she has such an individual sound. Where this range hugging, instrument of a voice originated from she doesn’t know. ‘I just wrote a song and the voice kind of came with the words,’ she says, ‘I’ve always had this range, which still shocks me.’

Growing up in Blackpool and Manchester, her Mother would tape her singing Celine Dion songs, telling her she was going to be a great singer one day, as she possessed, ‘this voice’, as Karima states. However she didn’t appreciate her silencing powers in her younger years. Upon finding said tapes, she snapped them and threw them in a field’, as she was so embarrassed. It was only when she moved to Manchester with her Mother, and fell in love that these heart pulling, feel it in your bones and soul lyrics truly came out, unearthed and exposed. As did ‘the voice’,
As testament to her character; between songs, her posture would become loose, her face would crease into a mischievous smile and the glint in her eye filled the time space. Her little anecdotes, a Rolex she found in a charity shop in Cornwall for £10, ‘Karima got herself a Rolex for ten quid, come and ‘ave a look, it’s dead nice’ brought the audience into her little world and made her seem more vulnerable and charming. She also said ‘thank you’ after every applause she received, commenting that it’s so strange and unbelievable to have your own personal emotions and words clapped to. Something that she mentions in an interview; ‘I still have my insecurities. But I must have some confidence to get up on stage and do what I do. When an audience claps at the end of a song, I can’t understand it. I’m just stood there, and there are hundreds of people listening to my words – it’s kind of hard to take in.’

Karima has a talent that is explosive and makes the world a more vivid and bright, colourful place. She has a personality and paradoxical quality that is endearing, entertaining and heart pulling. Her single Chasing the Morning Light resonated within me as I cleaned my teeth at night and the next morning, and her cover of Need Somebody by Kings of Leon transfixes the heart and mind. Karima on the third of February, was ‘ma fave’.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7SR7q3Q17bI Watch this eh.