‘If you’re worried about the weather then you picked the wrong place to stay’
LCD Soundsystem, ‘All My Friends’
Scotland doesn’t really do summer. They say that if you can see the hills in Scotland it’s going to rain; if you can’t see the hills then it’s bloody raining. That said Scotland does attempt summer music festivals and their newest one featured three days of music from the likes of Bjork, Primal Scream and The Jesus and Mary Chain. Hosted at Inveraray Castle – the home estate of Torquhil Campbell, 13th Duke of Argyll – Connect was about three and a half hours from Edinburgh or an hour and a half from Glasgow. Which basically means that it’s in beautiful surrounds somewhere in western Scotland.
Weather be damned, that’s a tempting festival.
Day One:
Having pitched the weekend’s home in the mud it was off to begin the three days of bands with a look at seasoned Scots the Trashcan Sinatras. While their ‘dinner party’ sounds doesn’t exactly thrill (think Tindersticks without the weary darkness) the set did reveal one element of the weekend’s crowd: The Scottish Drinker. Shouted requests provoking the lead singer to ask ‘wasn’t this supposed to be a Ned free festival?’ If the line up and price was meant to enforce a more musically educated punter it didn’t work. Almost every female performer is greeted with the sort of idiot comments that would be crass at the end of a buck’s night. And although there were no lines for the urinals there were blokes pissing on the side of the field within hours of the festival starting.
Anyway, back to the music.
No amount of hype and touring can disguise the fact that CSS are nearly shambolically amateurish live. But they do look great, have helium balloons and a lead singer with serious stage presence. Lovefoxxx is hilariously awkward but she has managed to slip into a sequined bodysuit and manages to gleefully lead the band through the hits from their self-titled debut. With songs like Let’s Make Love, Bitch and Alala they easily win the crowd and even throw a cover of L7’s Pretend that We’re Dead into the mix.
Johnny Cash wore black and claimed that he’d wear white when the world was pure, or so says Jarvis Cocker. Jarvis claims while introducing Cunts are still Running the World that he wears brown because the world is shit. In a set featuring many an odd rambled story about dolphins and their intelligence Jarvis is anything but shit. Launching onto the stage with a series of Merv Hughes inspired exercise moves and a fair imitation of the Karate Kid atop the speaker stacks Jarvis is never anything less than brilliantly entertaining. Opener Fat Children and Black Magic are highlights in a great set that draws exclusively on his solo album other than a cover to close where he has to sing the lyrics off a sheet taped to the stage.
The Beta Band may have sadly demised but no matter former Beta Banders John Maclean and Robin Jones have teamed with Gordon Anderson (aka Lone Pigeon) to form the Aliens. It’s as if the Beta Band of 3 EPs and Hot Shots never died as they play their anarchic mishmash of styles and blend in grabs of Helter Skelter and Higher Than the Sun between their own tunes. Gordon’s big brother Kenny is playing on one of the main stages as King Creosote but there’s only time for a brief look before rushing off to see The Jesus and Mary Chain on the other main stage.
Without any fuss, no banter and no Coachella festival moment of Scarlett Johansson on backing vocals the Reid brothers deliver a great set sounding not merely reformed but totally rejuvenated. To hear a tune like Just Like Honey live – with the stage blanketed in golden light is a sight and sound most never thought they’d witness. But better than that there’s new material in the set and so a new album can’t be far away.
From straight and sombre to bright and jumpy it’s off from JAMC to The Go! Team. While their first record bordered on being the English answer to the Avalanches they’re a very different prospect live with vocalist Ninja taking a far more prominent role. She bounces about and leads the call and response while the band plays away on duelling drumkits, guitars and harmonica. Hearing tunes from a new album for the first time in a live setting can sometimes be a flat experience as the crowd is unfamiliar with the songs and can’t sing along, but with their catch cry lyrics and instructions delivered by Ninja Go!Team have no problems getting the masses to chant along and dance away.
Expecting a more straightforward hip-hop performance the crowd has gathered for the Beastie Boys, only to be met with thrashy punk rock (_Heartattack Man_) and instrumental grooves. On the hip-hop side Mixmaster Mike mashes in the classic beats from the Beasties and others, but the Boys voices seem to be struggling. There are some very good reasons for their new album being an instrumental record. MCA has been reduced to a rasp for years and now they’re all missing cues and just running of the unquestioning adoration of the crowd. Other than the irrepressible keyboard player Money Mark they seem to be simply going through the motions. Motions that they’re struggling to remember. The constant mix-up of styles, moving rapidly from hip-hop to punk to funk robs the set of momentum, but surely all would be forgiven as they launch into their traditional set closer Sabotage, always a highlight of a Beasties set. Unfortunately I can’t wait around to hear it as the Super Furry Animals are about to take to the stage.
SFA have a short set so they decide to play five songs at once, which is easy for them as their songs are mini pop symphonies in the vein of Brian Wilson’s masterpiece Smile. Gruff Rhys emerges with a motorbike helmet on and opens with Slow Life as the band play a set that picks the cream of their long career. Northern Lites is performed in the style of Teenage Fanclub and Receptacle for the Respectable gets an airing – chewed celery and all. Other highlights include God! Show Me Magic, Rings Around the World, Golden Retriever and, of course, their standard set closer The Man Don’t Give a Fuck.
A dash to Glasgow DJs Optimo disappointingly manages to catch only their last selection (check out their brilliant How To Kill The DJ (Part Two) to hear their inspired work). So there’s dancehall and reggae from Mungo Hi-Fi till they get dubby and then a DJ set from Mogwai – featuring Von Südenfed, Dead Kennedys and the Beatles‘ Helter Skelter.
Day Two:
The Fire Engines were an influence on Franz Ferdinand and seeing them live the debt is obvious. But they’ve clearly been busier with families than music in the last decade as evidenced by the fleet of kiddies in Fire Engines T-shirts. Real under-five kids, not just skinny indie fanatics. With their recent cover of Franz’s Jacqueline (Franz returned the tribute by recording the Fire Engines Get Up and Use Me) plus a re-release of their original studio recordings due soon the indie kids will be huge Fire Engines fans. After seeing this gig that re-release album will definitely find a home on my stereo.
It’s not all great acts though. Astrid Williamson plays a set of dull country tinged tunes that suggest that her career will only take off if the producers of Bridget Jones 3 are in desperate need of a filler track. While the Only Ones, like the Fire Engines a reformed act from the late ‘70s early ‘80s, produce stodgy rock fronted by a squawking vocal.
Vashti Bunyan is an odd act for a festival with her barely audible folk quaverings. She draws her small crowd closer and closer throughout her beautiful set, but really she’d be better listened to while sipping chamomile in front of a small fire at your country cottage. The Hold Steady however are the perfect festival band and they’re on next with their wildly charismatic front man and drunken sing along choruses. Lead man Craig Finn shakes and rants his Springsteen/beat poet lyrics with manic passion and Chips Ahoy, Your Little Hoodrat Friend and You Can Make Him Like You draw the anthemic shouts they deserve. Only the omission of Stevie Nix from the set list prevents this from being a perfect festival set. To bastardise a Hold Steady lyric – ‘Lord, to listen to the Hold Steady forever!’
The muddied field in front of a castle is a strangely appropriate venue for the Divine Comedy’s tales of British decay and Neil Hannon is wryly relishing the moment. But the other stage is hosting the Mercury nominated new fave Bat For Lashes. Bats For Lashes (real name Natasha Khan) combines the sounds of Portishead , Kate Bush, Bjork, Cat Power and, perhaps unfortunately, Tori Amos into a howling, oddball splendour. When she and her all female band perform songs like The Wizard or What’s a Girl to Do? BFL seems like the new indie queen. But the naive simplicity of songs like The Light are reminders that she’s just beginning her career. With an oddball stage presence either entrances or reduces the crowd to fits of laughter – even though the Klaxons have piped her for the Mercury win she’ll be a performer to follow.
Also fronted by a magnetic female lead singer Rilo Kiley are next to take the stage. The first thing you notice is Jenny Lewis ’ legs – mainly because she’s wearing a tiny mini-skirt. But while that certainly does nothing to harm the size of their audience Ms Lewis also has a voice that can’t fail to seducing fans. Handling vocals on all songs, with Blake Sennett reduced from lead man to guitarist; Lewis is clearly the centre of attention here. When the band decide to pull out a ‘cover song’ they choose Rise up with Fists!! from Lewis’ solo album, Rabbit Fur Coat.
Doing battle in the Manicured Noise tent Kieran Hebden (Four Tet) and Steve Reid produce an incredible sound combining Reid’s live drumming and Hebden’s electronics wizardry. Reid, who has worked with Miles Davis, Ornette Coleman, Fela Kuti and Sun Ra, has found a modern musical soulmate in Hebden and after three album length collaborations since 2006 the creative juices are clearly flowing. Both musicians work off the subtlest of changes in the others playing to keep the flow of the music in constant progression. When the electronics briefly seem to glitch Reid simply becomes more complex and dynamic in his playing to fill any break. Playing laptop gigs as Four Tet, Hebden’s music always sounded incredible, but the shows lacked a visual or perhaps human element. Now with Reid there’s no such worry. Hopefully their collaboration will continue in whatever genres they decide to invent next.
Glaswegian band Sons and Daughters are the next band on schedule and while much of their set is devoted to testing new material, they haven’t strayed far from the indie rock with a greasy smear of rockabilly that made their first two albums so compelling. There’s a brewing fire of Bad Seed in their sound and a murderous intent in Adele Bethel’s voice. Their first single Johnny Cash gets a live work over to incorporate a verse of I Wanna Be Your Dog and the almost locals leave the audience well satisfied.
There are more Scots playing next in the form of Mogwai. They may have mellowed a little on recent albums losing some of the abrasive rock that marked their early records, though they’ve lost none of their composed intensity. Lacking the dynamic force of their duelling drums approach of previous tours, the band seem to taking their music very seriously these days. Perhaps too seriously. Even playing a home game Mogwai keep the interaction to a brief thanks between their towering epics that begin as slowly brooding repetitions before bursting forth to break holes in the heavens and earth. They may be gods on that stage but they can’t do anything to stem the drizzle that’s been falling for hours and has turned the ground to bog and slush.
They may be something of a super group these days, combining former members of The Jesus and Mary Chain and The Stone Roses but Primal Scream are taking most of their cues tonight and on their newer material from another band – The Rolling Stones. Playing a headline set they could have been expected to bring on a horn section or perhaps gospel vocalist to reach the heights of their records. But this band doesn’t need anything extra to stun audiences into rapturous adoration. Not when they have the basslines of Mani and the Bobby Gillespie swank and lank at centre stage. This is a band that truly relishes playing live even after so many years in the business. When Mani is hit with a full beer mere seconds into the opening song he never breaks stride, but finishes the track and then grinning grabs the mic to demand the coward make himself known. Never shy for confrontation the band assault the audience with blistering takes on Swastika Eyes, Rocks, Jailbird, Country Girl_ and a truly dramatic Shoot Speed/Kill Light. There’s no questioning their hero status and answering the encore football hooligan cry of ‘Bobby, Bobby, Bobby’ the band return to close with Loaded and Higher Than the Sun.
That’s the close of the main stages for the day but there’s still music through till 2am with ‘Black Elvis’ and a series of burlesque dancers from Scotland’s Club Noir – apparently the biggest burlesque club in the world – the pick of the late night entertainment. Mani has packed away the bass and spins a DJ set but he’s either glowing in the moment or purely arrogant as he proceeds peppers his set with the Primal Scream tracks we’ve just heard live.
Day Three:
The final day opens with a brief set from Patrick Wolf, a truly brilliant and eccentric performer who wins a sceptical crowd with his mini pop masterpieces. Thankfully his talk of retiring from touring seems to have been forgotten and we can look forward to years of superb sounds from the multi-talented multi instrumentalist. He closes his set by dedicating Magic Position to his tour manager, who immediately bursts into tears – bless.
Like Steve Reid, James Yorkston has worked with Four Tet, but Yorkston isn’t pushing the boundaries of beats and electronics – he’s a troubadour in an old time folk style similar in approach to Vashti Bunyan. Supported by a backing of accordion and double bass he delicately picks his way through the supposedly happier tunes from his catalogue. While it’s too early in the morning for his lofted high notes and he flubs a chorus intro or two he still wins through with a achingly beautiful sound that’s a marked contrast to the appearance of his band. Also an unlikely beauty contest is the next performer Seasick Steve, a rambling blues boogie man who could have stumbled from the back woods that morning. Swigging liberally from a bottle of red Steve thrashes his ‘geetar’ playing a show that’s Bob Log without the helmet or a one man Black Keys.
Tilly and the Wall may have some hype but behind their bright tights and tap-dance drumming gimmicks there’s little to recommend in their tepid indie pop or twee live show. On the other lead stage soundtrack composer Craig Armstrong doesn’t even have the benefit of a cheap gimmick to elevate his show beyond being a bloke playing synth washes on a keyboard. Removed from their cinematic context his tunes lack heart and feeling. Moby may be an arrogant fool prone to idiotic mutterings but at least it gives his movie soundtracks some stage presence.
Regina Spektor opens the final day home straight run of top shelf female performers – Spektor, MIA and Bjork – with a set of her kooky personality overflowing through her off kilter pop songs. Drawing on classical, Russian folk and New York hipster cool influences Spektor lyrics owe a debt to Jonathan Richmond’s straight-faced observations of everyday oddities. While she may over play the oddball effect too much for some she never seems to be faking it for effect. She’s a genuinely engaging and compelling performer with a full-faced grin that’s difficult to resist. The sing-alongs to accompany Better and Fidelity testify to her growing popularity, but she does veer dangerously close to Ani DiFranco self righteousness and weird voices best left to kindergarten teachers.
MIA is back in full voice after struggling through an American jaunt and she takes to the stage with the attack you’d expect from performer with two acclaimed albums of musical terrorism to her credit. Lead single from Kala, Boyz already gets the fevered reaction that the first album hits Galang and Bucky Done Gone receive. While $20, despite lifting a chorus from the Pixies and a bassline from eternal dancefloor filler Blue Monday, struggles live in its undancable murk. Copping a trick from Iggy Pop she invites a stage invasion, which sees a sea of muddied Scots hit the stage and security pull the plug on her gig. Unfortunately this cuts the Clash sampling anthem Paper Planes from her set, which has been a standout of her recent live shows.
Bjork has come prepared to dazzle after a long absence from the tour circuit. She’s accompanied by a ten piece brass section dressed in Day-Glo jumpsuits and flags, a very academic looking piano/harpsichord player, a drummer and two electronic boffins including regular collaborator Mark Bell. She’s still the most experimental musician working in popular music and she doesn’t let that reputation down on stage. Wearing a kimono like costume and felt crown she is a simply dazzling live performer, weaving her way about the stage with a gleeful innocence her return to live shows is clearly as much a thrill for Bjork as it is for her fans. This is a show purely on her terms shifting restrained harpsichord tunes to the blazing, confetti-cannon bursting show closer Declare Independence – which she dedicates to Scotland. With Mark Bell present Homogenic features strongly in the set with Hunter, Joga, Immature and Pluto making appearances.
Oddly that’s not the end of the festival, so there’s a brief second to piece together a blown mind before heading off to check out much fancied Scots the Twilight Sad. Bursting with the energy that Mogwai seem to have lost the Twilight Sad produce a thrilling cacophony of guitar fronted by the heavily accented vocals of lead man James Graham. They’re the perfect Scottish band and a fitting closer to their side stage, which has featured short sets from the cream of Scotland’s new bands.
Back on the main stage LCD Soundsystem prove again prove that they’re the best band working in dance music. Not many bands could follow Bjork onto the stage, but LCD can and do so with ease. Somehow they manage to deliver their locked down grooves without loosing the live band or ‘human’ element of their sound. Even the repetitive piano of All My Friends is played live – probably a chore for the piano player but certainly not for the audience. Repetition is also the order of the evening as Hot Chip take the slot as the final live act of the festival. Showcasing material from a new album due in the new year that’s more directly ‘dance’ than their earlier tunes the glow sticks and neon hoodies get their moment to shine and no amount of mud can stop the dancing to the tune that caps the weekend Over and Over. And with that it’s all, well, over. There are DJs for another few hours but with an early bus to evacuate the punters from the swampy festival ground it’s back to the tents and a well-deserved sleep.
So despite the risk of drowning in the mud and the ridiculous cost of the programs – £7, but only way to find the bands’ playing times – Connect is a more than welcome addition to the English festival circuit. It may be a crowded market but Connect offers something different and once the first year issues are dried out Connect should become a fixture on the Scottish calendar. Where else can you see the best bands in the world play at a castle and eat haggis, eh? Tickets for next year are already on sale so start saving those pounds – dollars just won’t cut it over here.
