We appear to be in the midst of a bit of a golden age for music documentary, with films about interesting and surprising subjects coming out or being announced with increasing regularity. The reduced cost of making films in the digital age and the new crowd sourced methods of getting funding make creating a film about a relatively obscure artist achievable without the need for cinema showings or guaranteed DVD sales to support the endeavor.

Last year was a good year for the music documentary at both ends of the success and attention spectrum. At the top end was the Oscar winning ‘Searching For Sugarman’ which took an artists that was both obscure and hugely famous (depending on where you live) and coupled it with a fascinating story to great effect. Also notable was the epic homage to George Harrison, ‘Living In The Material World’, that was perhaps too comprehensive but was certainly a labour of love for Martin Scorsese.

TV has been another good source with BBC4 and Sky Arts leading the way in showing interesting and well produced documentary films on a wide range of artists. Sky Arts tends to show archive films but the BBC have made and shown excellent films on the likes of Squeeze, The Kinks and a surprisingly in-depth look at the work of Chas and Dave. They also have a film about David Bowie in the pipeline which features world renowned Bowieologist Nicholas Pegg in a consultant role.

Lawrence of Belgravia

Last year saw two of British music’s greatest curmudgeons celebrated in film, Felt/Denim/Go-Kart Mozart main-man Laurence and former Auteur Luke Haines.

‘Laurence of Belgravia’ was perhaps the better film and showed Laurence as an increasingly delusional figure, clinging on to concepts of stardom that  would never come, although it is all wrapped up in a self-perpetuated myth by the artist himself. (You can watch a trailer for the film here).

‘Art Will Save The World’ shows Luke Haines as a figure who is increasingly affable and comfortable with his place in modern music. At odds with his (again self-perpetuated) image as the most evil man in Brit-pop it sees him moving towards becoming something of a national treasure. It is perhaps best viewed as a companion piece to his excellent memoir, ‘Bad Vibes’. (You can watch a trailer for the film here).

Pitchfork has also entered the music documentary arena  and done some sterling work as part of their Pitchfork Classic series of films. These films are similar in concept to the 331/3 series of books focusing on a single album by the band in question whilst offering up some biographical details about them. These films to date have been of a very high quality and managed to get all the principle players interviewed for the films and included some excellent archive footage. Best of all is the recent film about Belle and Sebastian’s If You’re Feeling Sinister, and managed to make a brilliant record seem even better. (You can watch the whole of the film on the Pitchfork TV site here).

The Sad and Beautiful world of Sparklehorse

Below I preview four films scheduled for release, or in development, most of which have been made possible by crowd funding (the pros and cons of which I will not discuss here, although it is much debated).

‘The Sad and Beautiful World of Sparklehorse’ is a film about the music of the late Mark Linkous, one of my favourite recording artists. The UK interview filming has been completed and the producers are currently trying to raise funds for interviews in the US and Europe on this crowd-funding website. I have mixed hopes for this film based on the interviews captured to date, with some like-minded musicians such as Jonathan Donahue and Ed Harcourt included as talking heads. More worrying is the appearance of TVs Matthew Wright in the film, he may be a big fan but this doesn’t add credibility.  Hopefully the remaining interviews will include collaborators like David Lowery, Dangermouse and PJ Harvey and the archive footage could be what lifts this film.

‘Song Dynasties’ has already managed to get full funding through Kickstarter and looks set to bring out the story of Kevin Barne’s Of Montreal on DVD later this year. The film has been put together from hundreds of hours of footage from throughout the band’s career and has been 16 years in the making. If it is anything like as entertaining as Of Montreal are live on stage then it will be captivating viewing. (You can read more about the project and watch a trailer for the film here).

In February we posted a review of a little-known (in this country at least) album by the South African punk band National Wake.  We now have an opportunity to find out more about the African punk scene thanks to the forthcoming release of ‘Punk In Africa’, a film made by Deon Maas and Keith Jones in South Africa, Mozambique, Namibia and Kenya. (No UK showings of the film are currently scheduled but more details about the film and some footage can be found here).

Best of all is ‘Are We Not Men?’, a film about Devo. And  if you watch the trailer (above) you’ll see what an exciting film it looks to be. Devo were colourful, subversive, different and had some ideology to support the ideas in their songs. The perfect subject for a documentary film and one that should appeal to those unfamiliar with the band as well as their fans. The film was made possible by a Kickstarter campaign that raised over $70,000 and is scheduled for a release in August this year.

If you have any favourite music documentary films, or know of any interesting projects in production, please post a comment below.

By Dorian Rogers

I’m being facetious of course with this title. There is of course a whole generation of people who know very well that David Bowie is cool. Those, who in their early teens in 1972 saw Bowie transform from one hit wonder  to glam star, knew it. Also in the know were those who marvelled at Bowie’s originality a few years later with his  so-called Berlin trilogy of albums of Low, “Heroes” and Lodger. And there were the ultra cool romantics of 1980, who watched in awe as he joined forces with the likes of Steve Strange as the vanguard for a whole new genre.

Bowie’s 1977 album that launched his Berlin trilogy

But then there’s me. Born in 1972, I was a baby when Ziggy played guitar, a toddler when Bowie was off his mind on cocaine in the US, and starting primary school as he was gazing at the Berlin wall listening to Kraftwerk. For my formative years Bowie had broken the mainstream stadium rock circuit; to the teenage me he was merely a middle-aged, silly-haired bloke, dancing around in his pyjamas with Mick Jagger and dressing like a pixie king in the fantasy backcombing film Labyrinth. To me he was just about as far from cool as it’s possible to be.

Fast forward a fair few years and here I am in my early 40s discovering what I’ve been missing out on. The internet has of course helped. Through Facebook and Twitter friends such as That Petrol Emotion guitarist Raymond Gorman (now with The Everlasting Yeah) I’ve been enthralled by clips of tracks I never knew existed. I’ve also heard those tracks from his past, which I dismissed  for years, in a whole new light.

I’ve also been swotting away as a new Bowie convert by reading The Complete David Bowie, Nicholas Pegg’s weighty, exhaustively detailed but wonderfully written definitive Bowie manual.

So what have I discovered? I’ve discovered that 1971’s Hunky Dory is arguably the greatest pop album ever made. I can’t think of a single album to boast as many great pop songs as this album has, from Changes to All You Pretty Things, the majestic Life on Mars to the ballsy Queen Bitch. He also finds time on the album to cement his influence on the likes of Kurt Cobain and J Mascis with Quicksand, which Mascis’s band Dinosaur Jr were to later cover.

I’ve found that Aladdin Sane is one of the best 1970s rock albums. While I was familiar with Jean Genie, how did the awesome Panic in Detroit or Watch that Man pass me by for so many years?

And as for the Berlin trilogy. These three albums, Low in particular, excude coolness. I’d heard the track “Heroes” before, of course. But I’d never really listened to it until recently. I’d never really heard just how Robert Fripp’s sumptuous guitar effortlessly elevates this song. This particularly surprised me as I was more than happy in my early teens to let Fripp dazzle me with his star turn on Blondie’s 1978 track Fade Away And Radiate.

But on both Low and Heroes in particular there are amazing new songs for me to hear,  as the magpie like Bowie cherry picked his way across genres to create a pair of albums that were wholly unique at a time when other former Glam stars were struggling for credibility amid punk and disco. For example Be My Wife, with the simple lonely video of  a made up Bowie and his guitar, set the template for Blur and Britpop. Always Crashing in the same car, also from Low, has one of the best melodies and riffs I’ve heard, Sound and Vision is just remarkable and on “Heroes” Joe the Lion would surely have been the child version of me’s favourite song if I’d have heard it when it came out.

As Bowie prepares to release his first album of new material in a decade, The Next Day, there will be many more from my generation to realise that this quiffed pixie lord of mainstream 1980s rock is in fact just about the coolest bloke in music. As you can see by my omissions there are plenty more examples of the cool Bowie for me discover. The soul funk of Young Americans and Station to Station, the influential alternative rock of The Man Who Sold The World and Lodger, the third in the Berlin trilogy to name but a few.

by Joe Lepper

Regular readers of this site, and anyone who knows me, will realise that I have an unhealthy obsession with the music of Guided By Voices and their leader Robert Pollard. Recently I stumbled across a video entitled The Who Went Home and Cried on YouTube. It is a brilliant film in that it captures the most incredibly relaxed band rehearsal you will ever see. Also it features Pollard himself playing all the lead guitar (something you rarely get to see) and some great versions of lesser known songs.

One such song featured is ‘The Big Make-Over’ from his 1999 solo album Kid Marine. The song is one of my favourites and inspired me to put together an accompanying video for the album version which you can see below.

I’m no skilled film maker, my camera skill and editing are sorely lacking in finesse. However, I think that the rhythm, shaky camera and lack of obvious meaning fit with Pollard’s song pretty well.

Kid Marine is no longer in print, and as such quite expensive to buy, but can be listened to on Spotify.

By Dorian Rogers

We are pleased to announced that Neonfiller.com has been selected as one of 40 online music websites to take part in the judging for the Glastonbury Festival emerging talent competition.

The prize is a main stage slot at this year’s festival. Entry is free but bands have to be quick as the competition is only open from 9am Thursday 17 January to 5pm Thursday 24th January. More information about how to enter can be found here.

As a judge Neonfiller.com’s co-editor Joe Lepper will help compile a long list of 120 acts by sifting through tracks over the coming weeks and listing his favourite three acts.

The long list will then be whittled down further to just eight by a judging panel including organisers Michael and Emily Eavis ahead of a live final showcase in April.

Joe will be blogging regularly on Neonfiller.com  throughout the judging process with articles about the acts that have impressed him. His role as a judge also means he will be attending and reviewing this year’s festival.

Previous winners have included Stornoway, The Subways and Ellen and the Escapades.

When The Miserable Rich take the stage at Brighton’s Dome Studio Theatre it is a bittersweet event for the home crowd who have ventured out into the cold to see the band play. You know that a great show is in the offing, but there is also the knowledge that this is the band’s last show, if not for ever, for a long time.

Since I first heard the band in session playing ‘Boat Song’ on Marc Riley’s 6 Music show I have managed to see them seven times in total. This may not seem a lot to the kind of people that obsessively follow their favourite acts, but I have always loved variety and seldom see anyone play that often. It also occurs to me that I have seen them play in a wider variety of venues than any other act.

Here, for posterity, is the full list:

1. In the heart of South Downs at The Beachdown festival
2. Upstairs at the Union Chapel as part of a Willkommen Collective takeover
3. In Resident Records
4. Downstairs at The Hare and Hounds
5. On an derelict bowling green in Queen’s Park
6. In The Green Door Store
7. And finally, in The Dome Studio Theatre

The significant point about all the shows being that they all had a different feel, but were all a brilliantly performed showcase of great tunes, the final night being no different.

The set-list picked pretty evenly between the band’s three albums, the quality mark being so high that it is hard to pick out highlights from the set. ‘Ringing The Changes’ was memorable as James de Malplaquet forgot the words, not once but twice, and the rendition of ‘Boat Song’ played (as has become tradition) from within the audience was a fitting finale. Also notable was a version of Donna Summer’s ‘I Feel Love’ that sits in nicely with the band’s other excellent cover choices through their time together.

The band were joined on stage for about half the set by their original guitarist Jim Briffet, boosted to a seven piece from their original five member line-up. One of the great skills of the band is their ability to move between big sounds and delicate moments, sometimes several times within a song.

The band are officially on hiatus, the members pursuing alternative musical endeavors for the time being. The good news here is that there are several great new acts that could rise from the ashes of the band in the next few years. I hope that they do reunite at some point in the future, the prospect of a forth album and more shows is certainly something I would welcome. If, however, this really is the last we’ll see of them then at least I have been lucky enough to enjoy them more than most.

By Dorian Rogers

John Howard was once the next big thing. Signed by CBS in 1973 he was part of a wave of major record label interest in English singer songwriters. But despite having the pop sensibility to rival the likes of Paul McCartney, CBS found it hard to market his witty, intelligent lyrics and eccentric demeanour. Looking a like a cross between Peter Cook and Pavement’s Stephen Malkmus record execs, who were used to handling the next Marc Bolan or David Bowie, just didn’t know how to promote him.

By the time his debut album Kid In A Big World was released in 1975, Howard found himself struggling to fit into any category as glam began its descent and punk was another year away from the wider public’s gaze.

He proved just too tough a sell to radio stations and the public, and after three years Howard left CBS; a  career stalled  before it had even began.

He meandered through the music industry for the next few years working with Trevor Horn and Culture Club among others but by the early 1980s he gave up recording and moved to a new career in music industry A&R. As his website says “feeling disillusioned with lack of success or recognition, John locked his piano lid and walked away from unrealised ambitions, only occasionally recording material when producer friends asked him to.”

He retired from the industry in 2000  and moved to Pembrokeshire with his partner Neil France, where it would have been all too easy to sit back grumpily in front of the TV muttering about “what a shit business it is” every time X-Factor came on. Instead though he started to write and perform again, first playing in local pubs, and even piano bars on cruise ships and in 2003, after decades of artistic obscurity, he found himself not just  a man in demand but actually cool.

Arguably it was the internet that saved him, with an online buzz among music fans, journalists and bloggers created after Kid In A Big World was featured in the book In Search of The Lost Record. Suddenly there was a new audience for his music, one not clouded by 1970s ideals of what a rock star should be and used to seeing a raft of musical square pegs in round holes from Jarvis Cocker to Malkmus.

With the album’s reissue in 2003 Howard’s rebirth was nearing completion. Further reissues followed including his unfinished CBS album Technicolour Biography. With each four and five star review Howard realised that the time was right to start releasing new material.

I’d never heard his music until he was name checked, along with Bill Fay (another singer songwriter snapped up and discarded during the 1970s) in a press release for The Gift EP, the 2012 release of piano ballads by Ralegh Long, one of the UK’s current crop of emerging singer-songwriters. I feel like something of a fool now for letting Howard’s stunning, pop savvy, clever songs pass me by until now.

Better late than never, though and I now find myself  working my way through his back catalogue. I’ve decided to start with one of Howard’s best comeback albums, As I was Saying, which shows just what the record industry has been missing all these years.

The song writing is just about perfect, full of McCartney-esque melodies and tongue in check lyrics as he ponders getting old, his career and the state of the modern music industry.

There are echoes of Billy Joel’s Piano Man and Elton John in his prime but all wrapped up in something wholly contemporary with enough of an edge to interest older music fans and young up and coming artists like Ralegh Long alike.

The lyrics “Time will heal things, so they say, but they lie” opens the track Taking It All To Heart, a beautiful, powerful ballad that sums up his reflections on the past perfectly. The Dilemma of a Homosapien then comes in with jaunty echoes of a raft of songwriters that emerged and disappeared from the public’s gaze during Howard’s hiatus, such as Robyn Hitchcock and Pete Shelley. Special mention goes to this track’s killer chorus; most songwriters can only dream of writing anything so catchy.

Among the most intriguing is Oh, Do Give It A Rest Love, coming in at over seven minutes it is the most obvious tale of his musical career, with almost everyone of importance over the last 40 years getting a name check from Jimi Hendrix to Simon Cowell. My favourite is the timelessly upbeat Life Is Never The Way We Want It To Be.

Next up for me as I explore Howard’s career is his latest release, You Shall Go To The Ball, sent to me out of the blue by Howard’s partner Neil from Spain, where the couple now live.

Although recorded recently the tracks are largely from Howard’s 1970s CBS days, including demos that failed to make it past the powers that be.  Howard explains: “The songs are those which thirty five to forty years ago were only ever demoed and which I wished I could have recorded properly with the backings I could hear in my head.”

It’s a less accessible listen than As I Was Saying, with Howard opting for the slightly maverick idea of interweaving new interpretations of his older piano ballads and pop songs with soundscapes. This gives the album a dream like, almost Brian Wilson produced feel,  with his forgotten songs  shining brightly throughout. Star Through My Window is particularly good. How this track failed to become a hit in the 1970s seems bizarre when listening to it now. It sounds like a track that’s been part of the musical ether  for decades rather than locked away beneath Howard’s piano lid.

Forthcoming acquisitions for me will be his 1970s reissues, with debut album Kid in a Big World and its English pop gems such as Family Man,  the one I’m particularly looking forward to hearing.

As well as his music, I love the story of Howard; of a talented musician who started his career as a square peg in the music industry but has now at last found the audience that the 1970s CBS record execs failed to discover for him. Perhaps his experience has shaped him for the better. Reading this interview with him from 2005 he displays a modesty and sense of joy in knowing he has an audience that may have been lacking if he’d have been a global star since the 1970s.

Howard’s story is a lesson to all those talented musicians out there struggling to get heard. Cream always rises, even if it takes a few decades.

by Joe Lepper

As music journalists we work to a strict set of standards, setting ourselves above the trappings of the music business as we strive to uncover the truth with honour at every turn.

Having said that we’ll pretty much do anything for some chocolate. The PR people at Fire Records have clearly recognised our cocoa based Achilles heel and, in promoting the forthcoming limited edition 7” release of the Lemonheads’ 1989 classic Mallo Cup, have decided to include a couple of real life Mallo Cups – it’s a nice chocolate tea cake kind of thing.

As huge Lemonheads fans we’d have probably promoted the single anyway, but the chocolate certainly helps.

The single is being released on 26 November ahead of a string  of reissues by Fire Records of the Lemonheads first three albums: Hate Your Friends (1987), Creator (1988) and the album that first featured Mallo Cup, Lick (1989).

All three are reissued early next year. Also in the pipeline is a new Lemonheads album that reunites Evan Dando with the band’s original co-writer Ben Deily. This new release will be produced by Ryan Adams.

Also featuring on the single of Mallo Cup is a live radio version of the tack recorded for VPRO in Holland.

By Joe Lepper

This week saw the DVD release of the documentary film Last Shop Standing which charts the “Rise, fall and rebirth of the independent record shop”. Record shops have been a big part of my life since my early teens and I have seen the demise of many in my native Brighton over the years. Tilbury Gig, where I purchased my first album (The Name Of This Band Is Talking Heads), Vinyl Solution, Essential Music, Virgin, Zavvi, Fopp, Our Price, MVC and others have all gone by the wayside.

I decided to take a picture of each and every record shop in Brighton and Hove, although I may have missed some (please let me know if I did so I can complete the story). I was pleased that there were as many as 14 remaining in a relatively small city, although one of the best, Rounder Records, closed shortly after I took these pictures.

Fine Records

HMV

Cult Hero (formerly Ape)

Rounder Records

Borderline

Resident

Across The Tracks

Wax Factor

Monkey Music Emporium

Endless Records (formerly Edge World)

The Punker Bunker

One Stop Records

Rare Kind Records

The Record Album

By Dorian Rogers

In a recent article for the Trichordist website David Lowery wrote an impassioned response to an article by an NPR intern, Emily White. Her article was about how she didn’t pay for music (apart from around 15 CDs) and posed the question “All I require is the ability to listen to what I want, when I want and how I want it. Is that too much to ask?” Lowery’s response was a lengthy exploration of the impact of music theft and supporting the artists’ rights to fair compensation.

David Lowery

Lowery’s piece isn’t perfect (his views on Spotify are open to question), and I don’t agree with everything he argues, but it is an intelligent and passionate article that raises some very valid points and highlights the dangers of a system where artists are not financially rewarded for their work. It is also pretty hard hitting in places. Music piracy may not have directly lead to the deaths of Vic Chesnutt and Mark Linkous, but if two artists of their caliber (and not forgetting the brilliant Jason Molina)  can’t make enough money to pay for their healthcare then something isn’t quite right.

Crucially the article isn’t an attack on Emily White (as many critics have claimed), it is explicit in being a response to her challenging some of her beliefs. It has also had a very positive effect in the amount of discussion it has raised, many people saluting Lowery for writing it and many others publishing counter arguments.

A different Emily White writes a clear and intelligent defense of her namesake and makes some very valid points about the changing face of music consumption and the other ways that Emily Whiten (and those of her generation) support artists. Crucially she misses the key point of the article, the issue of payment. Lowery isn’t saying people should buy CDs, he is saying they should pay for downloads, and that point is ignored in the article. She also gives an effusive “yes” to the questions ”All I require is the ability to listen to what I want, when I want and how I want it. Is that too much to ask?” but ignores that fact that this is already the reality for people. If you change the question to ”All I require is the ability to listen to what I want, when I want and how I want it and not have to pay for it. Is that too much to ask?” then things get a bit less black and white.

There have also been a whole raft of articles from the poetic to the passionate which argue that music should be free and artists should play for the simple gift of having an audience that allows them to express themselves. This argument sounds good, but troubles me for a number of reasons. Firstly I am not convinced that a world with only amateur musicians would be a good thing, for artists or fans alike. How would bands pay for tours and recording, and the music would have to play second fiddle to the day job. It would make international touring impossible for most artists, and our venues would be filled with the same sets of local artists. Secondly it suggests that someone who works hard on their art doesn’t deserve to be paid for it. I enjoy reading books, watching films and listening to music, I am very happy to pay money to support the people who create the art that I enjoy.

It is also a fact that somebody is making money out of the illegal download industry. Why should the Pirate Bay earn an estimated $14 million annually for the distribution of files and the artists don’t get a penny from their consumption?

Travis Morrison (of the Dismemberment Plan) writes an amusing piece looking at the  ways in which people used to steal music. There is a lot of truth in what he says, and Lowery can sound like the old “home taping is killing music” campaigns of the 1980s. However, the scale of things is fundamentally different now and the impact much greater. You would need a team of people to create enough mixtapes to contain the quantity of songs that people exchange in one go on a portable hard drive. You can get as much music in one hit, for free, as [people used to spend a lifetime collecting.

Jay Frank makes some interesting points and points to the sad fact that major labels are still winning when in comparison to the struggle that independents have to make money. However he, like several others, points to Lowery’s declining musical status as the real reason he is making less money. This may be true (and it is a crying shame as he is one of the best songwriters in the world) but it is not the point that Lowery was making. If an artist sells less then of course they make less money, if an artist is popular and all their music is downloaded illegally then that is a legitimate problem for them.

Lowery is a brilliant musician and passionate about artists rights to be rewarded for the great work they do, and not make money for ISPs and file-sharing sites instead – I find it hard to disagree with him on that. He may have some views that are open to question, but he has opened up a fascinating and challenging debate and for that he should be commended.

By Dorian Rogers

Refreshed after a sober Friday I made my way down to the Blind Tiger for an early afternoon set from Canadian garage popsters Hooded Fang. After another extended line check (they seemed to get longer as the weekend continued) they were introduced to us by the president of their record label, looking a lot like Dick van Dyke in his Diagnosis Murder years. When they finally got playing it was worth the wait, their very enjoyable debut album sounded perfect for a sunny afternoon in the crowded venue. The drum and vocal sound was spot on and reminded me a lot of White Denim, but with more of a classic 60s pop sound. The more punky tunes worked less well, but it was excellent start to the day.

Hooded Fang

From here on in I decided that my plan was to try and catch as much different music as possible, even if that meant seeing only partial sets by each act playing. To this end I headed to the Komedia to see French electro act Cheveu play what was described as “Parisian pop” in the programme. Parisian it may have been, pop it certainly was not. It was a harsh and challenging sound where dissonant keyboards and distorted guitar were joined by looped screaming vocals. It was pretty good stuff, but for the second time in the weekend it seemed wrong listening to noise in a dark basement whilst the sun shone outside.

Cheveu

The main remainder of the afternoon was spent exploring the various bands playing outside, most of whom I couldn’t name. At times this was a disappointment, a trip to the Brighton wheel saw the final applause of a well received set, and at others it meant some new discoveries. Best of all was Me and the Bees at the festival Hub stage (much better used this year than last) a really charming female fronted act from Catalonia. They are a little amateurish but have enough good tunes and personality to carry it off, the perfect sound for a sunny afternoon by the sea. A less country tinged Whispertown 2000 springs to mind and it was the highlight of my afternoon outdoors.

Me and the Bees

After a trip downstairs at Audio to watch Novella, an enjoyable if unexceptional piece of melodic guitar pop, the time to make a decision hits me. I had been dead set on a trip to the church to see Perfume Genius but a late changed of heart takes me to the queue outside The Komedia where everyone seems to be heading to catch the much hyped Alabama Shakes. I am pretty close to the front of the queue but it has been one in, one out for hours already and the wait is a long one. I’m at the point of heading elsewhere when a few people leave and I get access to the venue, but a lot of others will queue for a long time and not make it in until the band is almost over.

First on stage when I do get in is Howler, and they make a pretty fun noise to the packed expectant crowd. They sound like a band destined for the main stage at the Reading Festival, but they are enjoyable enough and pretty aware that they aren’t the main attraction. When Alabama Shakes take to the stage they are on to a pretty guaranteed winner, they would have to have been pretty bad to fail to get a reception from the partisan crowd. the good news for them, and us, is that they are actually pretty good. Are they the best new band in the world (as the NME stated this week)? No, they probably aren’t, but they are very very good at what they do. And what they do is nothing new, a rootsy mix of The Band and classic 60s soul, but they do it better than most. In Brittany Howard they have an excellent front-woman who can really sing, and plays the guitar with a lot of fierce energy as well. The one thing that does seem a little odd is why the NME have picked up on them, they are all round a Mojo kind of band.

Beth Jeans Houghton & The Hooves of Destiny

I decide to end the evening with a trip to The Pavilion Theatre and manage to jump the queue and get in to see the end of (deep breath) Beth Jeans Houghton & The Hooves of Destiny‘s set. It is good stuff, real energy and another excellent singer, and the packed house laps it up. I don’t see the whole set but I don’t think the crowd made a bad choice opting to come here rather than stand outside waiting to see a glimpse of more hyped act up the road.

I’m pretty wiped out by this time but I stay long enough to see some of the EMA set before I head home. The songs seem quite full on to fall into the category of “sparse confessionals” as described in the programme (which seems to have only a loose understanding of most of the bands) but it sounded great and the band looked good on stage.

Heading home I reflect on the three days of music, and it is is notable that I haven’t seen one bad act play. I may have been lucky, but I suspect that the overall standard is just very high. The event is brilliantly organised and an absolute steal at under £50 for the chance to pick from over 300 artists at over 30 venues. Even if you don’t have a ticket there are the outdoor shows and the Alternative Escape shows (most of which are free). I’ll be back next year and I have no doubt it will be another big success, and a key fixture in the musical calendar.

By Dorian Rogers