Great Disco!

GHOSTLAND OBSERVATORY


This "new rave" "scene" is seemingly destined to begin and end with Klaxons. Having witnessed Shit Disco (one of maybe 2-3 other bands in this musical revolution) live in what amounted to a horrific mauling of my ears, I can assuredly say that there is nothing ironic about their name and nothing promising about their genre. Despite Austin's Ghostland Observatory sharing similar sentiments, influences and musical targets, they - luckily - have no chance of being groped into the NME's current phase for the simple (and career-saving) fact that they aren't English.

Upon first hearing their music and reflecting upon their band name, their GameBoy blips and upbeat playfulness led me to the conclusion that Ghostland Observatory is the name of a level in SuperMario. It's not, but it should be!

Piano Man features a chorus which is almost certainly a rewrite of the "if I move, this could die..." refrain from Take Me Out, but we're moving so fast we don't have time to file lawsuits and point fingers... and also because directly after this spot of light-fingeredness comes one of rock music's greatest ever piano solos.

Piano Man
Sad Sad City

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Worship The Hawk, Worship The Hacksaw.

A HAWK AND A HACKSAW

"Put on Sunday shoes, and dance 'round the room to accordion keys, with the needle that sings in your heart."

When Jeff Mangum sung this line to a two-headed boy in 1998, he probably didn't realise that he was also singing to fans of his drummer's future band; beckoning them to waltz to dusty experimental Eastern European folk.

As a rule, two-piece bands consisting of a male part and a female part are rarely wonderful. Mates of State? Annoying! White Stripes? Overstayed their welcome! But when Jeremy Barnes checked out of the Neutral Milk Hotel - suitcase stuffed full of obscure thrift shop vinyl - and hooked up with Heather Trost, he set out to produce something brilliant and timeless. Their recent third album The Way The Wind Blows has finally elicited a response from the public, thanks in large to their collaborations/touring with the similarly-influenced Beirut. Unlike Condon and friends, the vast majority of A Hawk and A Hacksaw's music is instrumental which gives them more freedom to experiment, whilst keeping closer to their (artificial) roots.

They are a marvel to experience live. As the duo battle to recreate the sound of a massive Balkan orchestra, Jeremy tapes drumsticks to his knee and head, wears sleigh bells on his hat, has his feet rigged to a drumkit via a series of pedals, plays an accordion and sings! Whilst it may look as though Barnes drew the short straw in this partnership, Trost must exorcise the demons of buzzing violin lines from her instrument over a barrage of ADD-tempo'd melodies.

Put on Sunday shoes!

The Sparrow
Portlandtown

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The Love Letters Of...

ST. VINCENT


For a 23 year old, Annie Clark is a well-weathered girl. A member of The Polyphonic Spree, she has also toured with Castanets, can currently be spotted as a winged multitasker in Sufjan Stevens' band and her debut solo album will undoubtedly be cropping up in every Top 10 list of 2007 come this time next year.

Essentially a solo project, the drumsticks that complete St. Vincent's line-up have fallen into the able hands of Brian Teasley (Man or Astroman, The Polyphonic Spree, Chunklet magazine). However, the live performance features the extremely likeable Annie alone on the stage effortlessly entertaining the crowd with her expert guitar-playing, foot-tapping (which produces a bass drum beat), beautiful singing into a regular microphone and atmospheric shouting/humming into a Copperphone.

Her lyrics are wonderfully evocative and filled with dark romance. Directly after playing Bang Bang in Dublin's Olympia Theatre (where she shoots her lover), she airs a brilliant tune called Marry Me, introducing it by commenting "although I doubt many of you will want to marry me after that". But audience opinion couldn't be more contrary, her constant smile allowing much of the crowd to forgive her insanity and savour the prospect of a lifetime of this sweet music in their ears.

Standout track Paris Is Burning is a chilling wartime two-step, where eerie underground drumrolls dance with picked guitar and handclaps. Ever the cold-blooded murderous minstrel, Clark seductively sings for her companion to "come sit right here and sleep, while I slip poison in your ear". The tune jives into a fittingly French-sounding carnival waltz which would be the perfect soundtrack to a colourful carousel, revolving as the capital falls around it.

Paris Is Burning

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