My videos of Indietracks 2012

I went to a music festival the other weekend, Indietracks 2012. Its like twee indiepop and steam trains at the same time, and this it had parrots and owls too.

Anyhoo, at these things I usually shoot a few videos, I'd like to present them all to you here in one blogpost.

This is a short 4 minute taster of the whole weekend


This is Darren Hayman and The secondary Modern playing a cover of The Bee Gees' I started a Joke
 

 This is The Just Joans playing a cover of Kenickie's Come Out 2Nite
 

 This is Fulhast playing Prison Pizza
 

 This is Allo Darlin' playing a cover of The Just Joans' If You Don't Pull

And this is Elizabeth from Allo Darlin's encore, their classic Tallulah



And for those of you with plenty of time on your hands this is a 30 min compilation of the weekend.


On reflection, I should have titled it up with the name of all the bands. That would have taken an hour or so, and I was in a rush to get it online first, not sure why.

I think with these videos for me it is a popularity contest, can I get more views on YouTube than I did the other year. The quality isn't great, but it's good enough for YouTube, and what do you expect with a Canon IXUS 50 from 2005 (it used to be cutting edge, I could have been a contender...). For the past few years there's been folk mincing about at Indietracks with professional cameras, whole film crews, and I'm never sure what happens to the footage, a five minute local news item perhaps, or a limited release indie movie, who knows.

This year a band called The Birthday Kiss had a video up pretty quickly here, although I've got to say, eight seconds in the commentary contains what could be a tribute to the end of my 2008 video. Good research there chaps, appreciated.

The Lovely Eggs - The Lexington 04-Feb-2011

Its 3am Sunday morning, I had a big mug of coffee before I went to bed and I can't sleep, so I'm going to rant and rave and review a gig I was at on Friday night.

There's a dark shadow over east London, and its up to me to bring light to the area, its my job, I am the light bringer, the illuminator, I illuminate, I am the illuminatus.

Earlier on Friday I was at work, at my desk, and I snapped, the bureaucracy was getting too much, too frustrating, ticking boxes and filling in forms and deadlines, instead of making London's street's safer, saving lives. Some woman is going to be waiting for her husband to come come, waiting and waiting and he's not going to make it, casserole dish clatters to floor when the voice on the phone tells her what happened. Some bloke waiting outside a cinema for his date, who's he's fancied from the other side of the office for weeks, to arrive, dreaming of that first kiss, he's going to be waiting in vain. Some old duffer heading home after a week's hard labour at the works, never reaching his destination. All because I'm doing sodding paperwork for paperwork's sake.

Christ, I have a degree in manufacturing, speak half a dozen languages, can run 25K in one go, play guitar and have an encyclopedic knowledge of the Manchester, Glasgow and London indiescenes 1995 to 2011, and I'm stuff doing sodding paperwork.

I've lost something.

I always felt awkward at gigs, lonely, on my own, but this is different. Well, its the same as the last couple of gigs. I've lost something.

Looking back at my writings and verbage over the past 17 years, I used to churn it out. God, the shite I was writing, I had a passion, its was complete nonsense, but I had a passion, there was fire. Not any more. If it was turgid before, its worse now.

Despite feeling lonely at gigs, there were people with me. In Manchester Nosni, Zee, Roz, all the people at Flyer shows, Jim Bean, Timbo, Sap. Then in Glasgow, the first time round with Rab, Nick, Faye and Cleggy and the early Bowlie kids. The in round two, Alan, Adam, Martin, the whole Note and Sleazys scene.

But now, in London, I've lost something. Am I just old? I'm missing something, its gone.

Sure, I see Bob UnderExposed, nodding recognition, and I stand two and a half metres away from Nik from Moustache of Insanity, but its not the same. I'm in a room full of strangers.

Sure, I'm seeing bands that I've seen half a dozen times before in countless guises. The first time I saw The Lovely Eggs was on the train to my first Indietracks, they were playing to about three of us in a carriage. I didn't quite know what to make of them, but they were full of love. And there was history too.

Cos Holly was in Angelica, way back in the day, who did "Teenage Girl Crush" and "Why did you let my kitten die?", god knows if I saw them in the Manchester days, but I definitely saw them in Glasgow, I reckon twice, maybe three times. Flatmate Faye reckoned she knew them from school in Lancaster. I remember seeing them play the Art School, somewhere I still have photies, then one time I saw them at Ladyfest at the old 13th Note on Clyde Street. I was stood at the bar, next to Manda Rin from Bis and Faye's brother was up visiting too. I think I even did my old 'Wonderwall' shout. I remember these things clearly, I still had a soul in them days.

Its a White Light club night at The Lexington, probably related to the old White Heat club night at Madame Jojos in Soho, Matty with a moustache is the DJ type person. I definitely still had whatever I've lost back when I went to Madame Jojos. Dananananaykroyd were playing, I saw big Duncan and Wee Susan from Glasgow, and it was okay.

About an hour before I had my rant at work, I was ploughing through paperwork, frustrating building up inside, head in my hands and a colleague from across the room started at me with what's wrong, a guy your age shouldn't have his head in his hands on a Friday afternoon, you should be living it up, the weekend's about to start, etc.

I've lived it up, I was there then. Look, here's my achievement badge, 584 gigs, 32 years of age, from The Boardwalk, to The Admiral to The Lexington.

And I'm stood two and a half metres from Nik from Moustache of Insanity, wondering where Andrew Bulhak is. Also wondering whether I should have brought along my missus or a friend who doesn't like gigs. That's it.

I'm reading John Robb's The North Will Rise Again, about the Manchester music scene 1976 to 1995, and I'm looking at the scene before me through polarised 3D specs. Is there a scene amongst the crowd at The Lexington? Are The Lovely Eggs here as part of that, hallowed guests from on high? High priestess Amelia Fletcher ministering the flock?

Am I here at all?

Is this just telephoned in from my flat, I'm hiding under the bed, scared to come out, exhausted after trying too hard? or not hard enough. Where are people I know and talk to?

Why aren't they here wearing whatever twenty-first century faces they have?

There's this timeless scene in my head, a paradigm, NPL in Glasgow, its dark outside, yellow streetlights, people from bands and other gigs walking the same way. When I get inside, there's a seat the first table, Jef and Gill are there, Adam's on the dancefloor, Andy Diamond too, other friends off of the internet in the near corner, friends I'm scared of talking to on the other side of the dance floor, Alan will be along later. Lots of drinks, plans and schemes, foolish ideas followed through and then a drunken stagger home.

But its not like that here. Occasionally there are echos and shadows and smokey reflections, like Hawthorns in Bolton in 1997, but its not like that here.

I drink three bottles of Tiger, enjoy Tender Trap and The Lovely Eggs songs, try to shrug off moldering resentment of something I can't quite put my finger on and head back to Walthamstow.

The Loves Rocknroll Circus - Jamm, Brixton

I stand in the centre of a dark room, months since was last in a position like this, a London indiepop show. The Loves to the right, Monster Bobby some way behind, Iain HDIF to my left and Mr Solo on stage. I am all alone in a room full of (facebook) friends, for I am shy and that's just fine.

Its The Loves's Rocknroll Circus thing, music and entertainment on stage.

I was watching the film Almost Famous yesterday for the first time, it didn't quite reinvigorate my belief in music, its been too long, but there was a little sparkle of was there then. Not 1979 in the film, but music scenes from the mid-90's until five months ago. The two hundred or so people in Jamm in Brixton don't quite work out the same as the stadiumfuls of people Stillwater played to. Besides, the fans in the film were half the age of the fans here tonight. The between band DJs put on Pulp's Babies, from sixteen years ago.

It was a bit of a rush job getting here, I debated whether to take public transport or drive for too long, and then spent too long driving here, so I missed the first few acts and I'm limited to one half pint of beer, when my shyness calls for gallons on booze to be overcome.

The first band I caught were King and The Olive Fields, I must have missed their better tracks cos it was a bit dreary for the last song or two, although for a few brief moments they sounded like the often rumoured Johnny Cash Joy Division covers band Johnny Division.

Next up was Mr Solo, former frontman of David Devant and His Spirit Wife. He has his finger on the pulse and his banter's good, but for all the theatrics I was rather disappointed that after all the faffing about setting up a projector, he only did one song.

On stage right now The Mai 68's are asking for help with the Guardian crossword between Dadaist songs. They're an art school ideal, even more so as a girl stood next to me at the front of the crowd is playing scrabble on her iPhone.

I preferred them when the vocals were lower down in the mix and you had to strain against the fuzz guitar to make out the lyrics. Sure there was a nice wigout at the end when the guitar let loose and noodled his ass off. But I've been following them for years since the Betsey Trotwood basement gig with Town Bike, when it was all smokey. Sure the glugging of pints of red wine is the same, and Indietracks 2008 was a high point, but the years of practising and playing have polished the grit from their set and I think its lost something for that.

To my right some blonde girl has the same camera as me and is videoing half the set, if she ever gets it on YouTube you can check out what I mean.

Imagine, if you will the song 'Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now' by The Smiths, now imagine someone tap-dancing to it. It was a wonderful thing to behold, until the CD cut out halfway through, the dancer soldiered on to the crowd trying to sing along half remembered lyrics, but it was a one-joke act. 'How Soon Is Now?' would have been wonderful.

BobUnderexposed and KittenPainting are not here, according to Songkick they've seen The Loves more often than anyone else, I've seen them lots of times too, but maybe I can catch up.

The Loves' line-up may have changed since last time I saw them, they've swallowed half of Pocketbooks and and half of Arthur and Martha too. Alice on keyboards is looking mighty fine this evening, apart from Simon Loves' bow-tie no one else has really made an effort.

They're still playing 'Little Girl Blues', it still sounds great, but it was part of their original John Peel set a long time ago. I always preferred 'She'll Break Your Heart', the original version too before they cranked up the drums in '07.

There have been a few healthy changes of sound over the years and their smokey blues track 'Can you feel my heart beat (Boom Boom)' is monster track, should be available for download from their MySpace soon, but they've only cranked it up to eight, there's still three steps to go.

Crikey, that girl is still playing Scrabble on her iPhone. Who goes to a gig and stands right at the front and then plays Scrabble? Really? I mean Scrabble Sunday at The Hangover Lounge is all right, but this is Loves gig. Admittedly people are leaving, the place isn't as crowded as it was when I first came in, which is a shame, but understandable, its a school night, work tomorrow and it was a free gig.

Well, no work for me, just stabbing away at flickr photies. Here's a slideshow of all the gig photies I've taken in London since 2007. Its thrilling stuff, not quite a snapshot of the indiepop scene, more of a running trawl.