The Everyday Gig Review Roundup (October ‘21)

Live music is officially back. The Everyday Magazine is sending out it’s best writers to report back from clubs, pubs, basements, fields and the best live music venues across the UK with what our amazing music scene has been offering up lately.

Read on for the low down on the highlights from September in Live Music Land - including Belgian-Ghanian multi-instrumentalist ESINAM at Rich Mix in East London, This Must Be The Place festival in Leeds, record label Spinny Night’s August Bank Holiday spectacular Spank Holiday at The Crofters Rights in Bristol, Mista Trick’s album launch party, and music editor Kerry Mead’s review of the biggest Bristol homecoming gig of 2021 - Idles at The Downs on 3rd September.

ESINAM // Nikitch + Kuna Maze //

Live at Rich Mix // Wednesday 22nd September

Words and images by Adwoa Owusu-Barnieh

Esinam Dogbatse, a.k.a. ESINAM, is a Belgian-Ghanaian multi-instrumentalist, combining African percussion, poetry, flute, and electronic influences. On 22nd September ESINAM performed a special one-off live show at Rich Mix, supported by Nikitch + Kuna Maze. I had the pleasure of attending.

Rich Mix is a venue/charity in East London, offering a broad range of arts and culture for the local community - it was great to be able to see ESINAM in such an intimate setting. A stone’s throw away from the busyness of Boxpark Shoreditch, I was thankful to be away from large crowds, in a space where everyone was simply out to witness great music, support musicians, and have a good time. Whilst I love huge concerts and raves as much as anyone else, it’s the more chilled out, friendly gigs I really missed when live events had to stop.

The night kicked off with Nikitch + Kuna Maze, a collaboration project between musician Nicolas Morant [Nikitch] and Brussels-based producer Edouard Gilbert [Kuna Maze]. I’d held off listening to the support act before attending the gig, as discovering new music through watching the artists’ live performance is a simple pleasure of mine. I was not disappointed.

Nikitch + Kuna Maze’s music is the perfect middle ground between jazz bars and club culture. Mixing jazz with electronic, the music they created had me swaying in my seat and shaking a leg. Watching Nikitch switch between all his instruments had me in awe - I couldn’t quite understand how he was doing what he was doing. I’d love to comment on how the rest of the audience was responding to the music, but I don’t think my eyes left the stage once. They played tunes from their first full-length album ‘Débuts’ - tracks that firmly find their footing in jazz and club culture, but also have elements of UK garage, broken beat, and Chicago house.

The flute and synth were standout sounds from their set. As someone who played the flute once upon a time and is still hung up on the fact I never progressed past Grade 3, attending a gig where the flute takes centre stage really was the thing of dreams. I fuelled myself up with a pint in the break and waited excitedly for ESINAM and her band to take to the stage.

The band was made up of Federico Pecoraro on bass, Pablo Casella on guitar, and Martinn Mereau on drums. ESINAM’s music was the perfect mix of all the things I love: jazz, club culture, Ghanaian percussion, grooves, and funk. ESINAM’s music makes me think of the cultures of Ghana, our shared homeland. Her music is at home on stage, but would also find itself at home in a meditation or in a club.The music really is ephemeral, and language presents itself as an inadequate medium for articulating the sounds ESINAM has created with her album ‘Shapes in Twilights of Infinity’.

The music felt like slipping out of the skin of the material world. Flute improvisations, electronics, percussion, and soulful melodies meld together to create something ephemeral. I am not drunk, but something about ESINAM’s music ushers in a feeling of lightheadedness, of being both above the clouds and at the bottom of the sea. The pyrotechnics in shades of white, blue, red, and green partner with the Afro-jazz/electronica sounds, making me feel even more at home. I tap along to the beat with my feet and hands, before standing up and moving my whole body along to the music. I hope I’m tapping and moving in rhythm with the music, but I am having so much fun being a fan that I don’t mind if I’m a little bit off-beat.

ESINAM is joined on stage by spoken word artist Nadeem Din-Gabisi for the track ‘New Dawn’, an Afro-Jazz tune that is oh so easy to dance along to. Nikitch + Kuna Maze were dancing along to ESINAM’s music, encouraging everyone else to get on their feet and move. It is so nice to witness artists supporting each other, and genuinely being fans of the music their peers/friends create.

After the set ends, I stay behind to grab myself some merch (a tote bag, some stickers) and to allow myself the fun of being a fan. ESINAM is kind, takes a couple of photos with me, and accepts my compliments. I am sweaty and definitely smelly from all my tapping and dancing, and head out of the venue ready to play the night all over again in my head on the long tube journey home.

ESINAM’s new album, ‘Shapes in Twilights of Infinity’, was released via W.E.R.F Records on September 3rd and is available now.

Mista Trick album launch party

at Jam Jar, Bristol, Saturday 4th September.

Words by George Trueman, images courtesy of Mista Trick

“Dreaming…Absolutely dreaming” was the response I yielded from Mista Trick backstage after his show. An album three years in the making and an almost two-year hiatus from live shows made tonight’s return to gigging even more special.

Mista Trick’s characteristic style of Swing n Bass is something I hadn’t been familiar with prior to the launch party for his debut album ‘You’, which will be out on 17th September. My ears were expertly eased into the style and sound of what was to come by the outstanding Jamu ft. Don Suis and Fizzy Gillespie, who used their unimaginable talent to wash away any awkwardness and apprehension towards the fusion of swing and bass. The sticky dancehall’s floor seemed appropriate given the venue’s name of The Jam Jar - a wonderful venue which I'd be remiss not to mention.

The welcoming and warm atmosphere was simply that of pure elation at being able to finally listen to the hard work of such dedicated and talented musicians. Although I never had met anyone in the room prior to the gig I felt a sense of friendship and joy that only comes from seeing what feels like an old friend perform live. I was eager with anticipation and nervous for what I was about to hear.

Between Jamu and the arrival of Mista Trick on stage I had time to contemplate the reasoning behind Swing n Bass as a fusion of genre. What are the shared aesthetics? The apparent decadence? The hedonism? The ironic repetition of it being 2021 and for all intents and purposes swing’s golden era being 100 years prior? Did it all really matter? In the end the answer was no. Any sort of definition by me would be doing a disservice to the talent and craft of every performer on stage that night.

Mista Trick’s upcoming album holds all the hallmarks of an artist in peak performance. The showmanship and joy being on stage combined with standout tracks like Champion Sound featuring the emphatic and brilliant Gambit Ace, and Feelin It featuring Harriet Hayes and her brilliant soulful voice returning from battling the dreaded ‘rona. Also Emmanuel Ayeni’s contribution alone is worth seeing - he is an artist and musician to look out for.

To call Mista Trick a producer can somewhat be a disservice. He functions more as the conductor of a fantastic swing band from behind the decks, pulling together every disparate thread into an intricately woven soundscape that invariably forces you to leave any inhibition or self-awareness at the door, like any great musician should.

In truth, the fusion of Swing and Bass may not appeal to all, but the sheer quality of the live performance and the talent on show makes Mista Trick’s upcoming album a must-listen, and his live and in the flesh set a must-see. It’s best enjoyed with your best flat cap and suspenders, with a whiskey in hand. Forget who you think you are at the moment and just fall into the celebration of music and I promise you, you’ll have a whale of a time.

‘You’ is out on 17th September everywhere. Find out more about Mista Trick here.

Idles at The Downs, Bristol

Words by Kerry Mead. Photos - thanks to Plaster Communications

Once upon a time I spent Christmas in a deserted holiday resort on the Costa Brava I was living near. On Christmas night we wound up in a huge superclub, euro-house pounding from the state of the art sound system, two of ten or so customers. It felt like we had broken into a closed theme park under the cover of darkness, doing shots at the empty bar and gyrating ironically in the dancers’ cage suspended above a desolate, cavernous dancefloor.

Walking onto the Love Saves The Day site at 5.30pm on Friday afternoon, straight to the bar with no queue, past the sparkling clean portaloos, briefly has a similar feeling. It’s a huge site - and the day before Love Saves The Day opens proper it is also home to Idles’ big homecoming gig, alongside a pretty impressive lineup of support acts. Once you start walking towards the stages though you realise there is actually quite a crowd in front of all of them. They are very different from that which will flood The Downs tomorrow as well - a true mashup of music fans of all ages and backgrounds, plenty of families - some in your typical glitter/sequin/bucket hat festival garb, some squinting in the sun like this is the first time in years they have been to a gig that isn’t in the gloom of a dive bar or the homogeneity of a stadium.

I would have liked to have got there earlier as well with the very first of the crowds- the gates opened at 3pm - and I am gutted I didn’t get to see Big Joanie or Grandmas House. I hope enough people were here to give them the love they deserve. But here I am now, can in hand, marvelling at the lost joy of being in a field with music pumping and actual people around, with enough time to warm up proper before 9.30 tonight, when Idles hit the stage.

I really like Jane Weaver. I really do. Typically, straight away I have to make a decision between her or Grove, and Jane Weaver wins - briefly. We wander over to the main stage, where most of the crowd are sat on blankets taking in rays and chatting - a very Sunday vibe indeed. Jane Weaver makes great music - a strong voice, a great songwriter, straddling everything between her Britpop shoegaze roots and her current leftfield synth-pop, but this isn’t coming across right now. We lurk around the edges of the chattering audience and all I can think of is this is some sort of Mumsnet Goldfrapp in front of me. My friends notice my eyes darting towards Centre Stage, where the figure of Grove can just be seen absolutely bossing it, dreads flying - and just like Bisto Kids we are off - following Grove’s tendrils of amazing, undulating basslines across the field.

And what a set. Grove is a powerhouse. Diminutive in stature but a huge presence, bouncing over the brutalist eye-candy of Centre Stage, bouncing down to the growing crowd, bouncing into the crowd, flying back onto stage again, all the while pumping out their unassailable hip-hop, club, electronic beats. This is more like it. Sunday vibes can wait til Sunday. Grove pauses at one point and tells us how proud they are of their music, how proud they are to be here playing in front of their biggest crowd yet, before the pounding bassline of ‘Ur Boyfriend’s Wack’ starts and the crowd go mental again. I have the feeling this won’t be Grove’s biggest ever crowd, as I wander off at the end looking up on my phone exactly when they are playing live next. I need more of that.

We decide we all need more of that same thing and eschew the big name crowd puller of Working Mens Club on the main stage and stick around for Centre Stage’s next act - punk-techno aficionados Giant Swan. These guys are visibly having the best time ever as they pump out their set, which sounds like what Underworld would have come up with if they’d taken up full time residency in the warehouses of Rotterdam in the 90s. And the crowd reflect back their joy - there is not a hint of the serious, heavy po-faced techno aficionado anywhere to be seen. This kind of music, this kind of dancing, this kind of camaraderie in a field as the sun starts going down, this kind of magical slice of escapism, is timeless, even if you are old enough to be the mum of 99.9% of the people surrounding you and your all-nighters are now few and far between.

We change gears next - I turn down my techno-nut persona and ramp up my serious muso girl fan persona - I’ve been dying to see Anna Meredith perform again since I saw her in a near empty Symphony Hall in Birmingham in 2018, just before her wonderful melding of classical music and electronic pop was propelled into a more mainstream music consciousness. See or hear Anna Meredith even once, whether it is her music or being interviewed, and you will like her. A lot. She is down-to-earth, funny, sincere, her music beautiful and unusual yet accessible. It is easy to forget her bonafide, heavyweight classical composer persona - she is truly just at home on a festival stage as at The Proms.

Entering the stage in matching monochrome outfits, Anna and her band immediately keep me entranced with crowd pleasers from her recent albums, the highlight of which has to be the building, forward-driving, nigh-on-year-long crescendo of 2016’s Nautilus. Has such an addictive, bass-laden wall of sound ever come out of a cello, French horn, tuba, drums, guitar and xylophone before? It’s a pretty tough crowd right down the front where we are, a large percentage of whom are pretty much getting a spot ready for the next act up, Idles, but Anna is captivating and infectious in her energy, her crystal clear pop vocals, her obvious happiness at being on stage. Then she pulls the rabbit out of the hat for the encore - a glorious cover of Enter Sandman by Metallica, threaded through with the theme tune from The Bill. Everyone goes crazy, and with that Anna confirms that she will always have the capacity to innovate and surprise.

Night has now truly fallen, the other stages quietened, there is a feeling of anticipation and everyone on site is crowding towards the main stage for tonight’s headliners, Idles. The atmosphere has changed, everyone here for one purpose, to welcome Bristol’s biggest current name back where they belong after a long hiatus - performing to a crowd of many thousands. “We haven’t done this in a while, and neither have you,” says vocalist Joe Talbot as Idles take to the stage. We fill the space at last, there is no feeling now of being in a space too big for us. Idles crash in with hit after hit, words to stir even the coldest of hearts, energy we have all missed, an audience who know the lyrics to each song and are not afraid to belt them out.

I’ve been lucky enough to see Idles play in a couple of settings very different from tonight’s - they lend themselves to smaller venues well - a barrage of noise, mess and anger, but seeing them as headliners on a festival stage, they undeniably fit an arena-type-vibe like they were born for it. Their knowledge of how to fill a huge crowd with hope and the possibility of unity in revolution, their ability to fill a stage with their presence (Joe Talbot in particular reminds me of a stalking, loaded gun, in complete control - cradling the audience in his hands) and their technical prowess - it’s clear to see why they are going down as one of the UK’s biggest must-see rock acts today.

This homecoming, both for Idles and for us festival fans, has been a perfect package of a varied banquet of music and atmosphere. As the crowd pours out after the music has stopped it is time to hand the baton over to the Loves Saves the Dayers tomorrow. I hope they do as good a job of celebrating returning to a communal love of music in a field again as we have today.

This Must Be The Place, Leeds, 29th August Live Review

Words by Emma Doyle, images by Cal Moores

The West Yorkshire rail network is a veritable minefield, with its steady offerings of those under the influence of misplaced machismo, abundant ableism, homophobia, and cultural indifference clearly rampant among the countryside folk. You would be excused for thinking Dennis the Menace was confined to the realms of fiction, but disappointed to hear he is very much alive and kicking, with an armful of shit tattoos and a psychotic ex-wife in Rochdale. Aside from being an inadvertent magnet for reprobates, however, we came not for vaguely disappointing people-spotting, but for an onward journey to Leeds seeking solace at This Must Be The Place, the brainchild of promo group Superfriendz which has been bringing August bank holidays filled with some of the UK’s finest live musical acts for over five years. All in all, we were riding on the promise of a stimulating Saturday afternoon, and an eclectic, somewhat frenzied one was certainly had.

Speedboat

‘Raucous’ wasn’t necessarily the operative word when our day began at Belgrave Music Hall and Canteen. On the contrary, the titular music hall itself felt more like a school assembly hall than a gig venue during the formative moments of the set, with brothers Will and Johnny Griffiths padding furtively onto centre stage within the outer ring of spectators. Their being at the top of the bill didn’t go unnoticed; indeed, both began their set with cautious murmurings loaded with Michael-Cera-in-Superbad-esque self-awareness (fans of the cult film will know exactly what I mean) and a bulging sense of unease.

Despite this wary beginning, it didn’t take long for the duo’s impressive multi-instrumentalism to coax the shadow huggers to the front of the stage, with an exponential growth of the crowd quite clearly giving rise to a burst of confidence from the synth-heavy siblings. I even allowed myself to drop my guise of consistent professionalism and enjoy this incredibly specific brand of ‘50’s Rockabilly and ‘80’s Arcadia. Although many of Speedboat’s songs were, at surface-level, plainly nonsensical – ‘BigBoy123’ envisioning a fictional romance between a camera shop clerk and his customer, and ‘Dog Toy’ being about, well, that – the breezy flair brought a much more accessible form of Vaporwave to the masses. Speedboat create modern-day elevator music for those who are lacking the time for Brian Ferry’s Tory sympathies, with absolutely no detriment to this project. If their recent ‘Split The Bill’ EP has this amount of live potential now, all we can do is look forward to the near future.

Bamily

I’m the last person to refuse festival organisers the necessary sympathy for last-minute line-up changes due to COVID, but I am equally the last person to nod and fake a smile in the face of adversity. There was genuinely nothing I can pretend to have enjoyed about Bamily. From the name which, frankly, I found nausea-inducing, to the sweaty optimism which saturated each track that I can’t remember the title of, every element amounted to something a little too happy-clappy for my nuanced tastes. My bowels cringed during a sincere callout for a room to crash in within the boundaries of Manchester, and I rushed to cease being perceived as someone who was able to satisfy this requirement as quickly as possible. To the less cynical musical consumers out there, my perturbances are surely acerbic beyond any reasonable need. And I am fractionally apologetic. I’m only thankful that it wasn’t me who was woken up at six AM to join a cross-legged circle-jerk along to Kumbaya.

deep tan

For a group with an alarmingly small musical repertoire, deep tan (notably all lower-case) pack a smouldering punch of a stage presence. Suited perfectly to the cavernous gloom of Headrow House’s gig room, the all-female Hackney trio pump out a sound that is jarringly straight-faced, yet simultaneously rich, laden with comedic references and personal in-jokes. Singer and lead guitarist Wafah wasted none of her chance to present track ‘do you ever ascend?’ to the audience as a manifestation for the band’s love of a friend’s Instagram meme page (@doyoueverjustfuckingascend, for those interested). The characteristic sludge of earlier releases ‘deepfake’ and ‘Shimmer’ is still very much present in their ‘hollow scene’ EP from April this year. Melodic hooks have been expertly blended with a dark charisma which succeeds in drawing deep tan’s captive audience into a swirling centrifuge of sound, and proves reluctant to let go.

Wet Leg

For the ensuing two months following the release of Wet Leg’s astronomically popular single ‘Chaise Longue’, fans of the three-minutes of ballsy indie-pop have been poorly masking a hankering to know more about the elusive Isle of Wight duo comprised of Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers. With an even tinier back catalogue than deep tan – one (one?) albeit brilliantly catchy single and satisfyingly thematic video accompaniment – it came as a surprise to me and I’m sure many others to suddenly come face-to-face with an immaculately polished eight song set.

Their live line-up was also refreshingly subversive to my expectations, with Teasdale and Chambers joined on stage by three male counterparts, somewhat shattering my dreams of the two of them transpiring to be an unfairly attractive romantic pairing. Songs ‘Ur Mum’, ‘Wet Dream’ and ‘Oh No’ evoke visions of my private journal circa 2012, but thankfully played out in a closer parallel to the popular British chick flicks of yore – The Coral in Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging, anyone? Wet Leg’s sudden emergence and good kind of gobby-ness are more than slightly reminiscent of early Wolf Alice, or even the now sadly disbanded Japanese Voyeurs, while remaining intriguingly true to their origins away from the over-commercialised UK mainland.

To leave This Must Be The Place on this bubble gum-scented high was undoubtedly what I was seeking to take from the day as a whole, blasting every less-than enjoyable act into insignificance with an energy unrivalled by all longer-established acts present. I’ll have my muffin buttered, thank you.

Spank Holiday presented by Spinny Nights. Featuring CIX, Park Motive, Robbie & Mona, Lynks, Grove X Diessa

Words by Kerry Mead, images by Vonalina Cake

This probably isn’t the first review you’ve read recently extolling the writer’s joy and elation at returning to live gigs after a long covid-induced hiatus, so I’ll get it out of the way early - I can confirm it is indeed fucking great. After checking out Bristol record label Spinny Nights showcase night Spank Holiday at Crofters Rights on August Bank Holiday Sunday I went to bed with ringing ears and unable to sleep because I didn’t want to lose that buzzed feeling - the absence of which I didn’t realise had left such a black hole in my life until it was back.

Spank Holiday was a night that took in the wide variety of genre-pushing noise currently signed to the label. A quick glance at the lineup on the chalkboard by the door to the Crofter’s pleasingly unchanged and scuzzy, dark back room made my heart sink - I have a strict curfew of midnight tonight from my babysitter, the likes of which I have not been subjected to since I was fourteen, so it looked like I was going to have to leave halfway through Lynks’ much-anticipated headlining set and completely miss my new favourite Grove hitting the decks alongside Diessa. But never mind, I would still get to see CIX, Park Motive and Robbie and Mona in full.

First up, on the stage at 8pm sharp was the engrossing and unsettling deconstructed hyper-folk of CIX. Coming onto the stage, bathed in light from the huge, totemic Spinny Nights glitter ball suspended above the audience, in an outfit that I can only describe as sexed-up medieval knight (chainmail, hi-tops, white satin cloak and glittery heart pasties) with only a laptop, loop sampler, some wind instruments and a microphone for company, she immediately filled the stage with her presence.

In fact, at points in her set I completely forgot she was a solo act, so well did she command the space and fill it with her own energy and walls of looping sound made from light, glassy water drops, dark, sweeping synth sounds and a pretty bloody impressive turn on the clarinet (leaving me, a very average clarinet player many moons ago, feeling pretty awestruck).

Von, our photographer tonight and provider of the succinct one-line summaries I often struggle to stick to, said she can totally get behind CIX’s ‘medieval Matt Berry vibes’. I say CIX took us on a leftfield incantatory journey through folk stories set in a post-apocalyptic near future and meditative calls to prayer with aplomb, obvious knowledge of her craft and total command of her own physical and ethereal space.

After a pint-length break the ever-increasing crowd returned to the back room for Park Motive. I had never heard of them before tonight, but within minutes the quintet felt very familiar. Changing gear from the experimental sounds of CIX to something more conventional - with echoes of Hot Chip and the current barrage of post-punk inspired collectives on every lineup right now. The lead vocalist borrows heavily from the form and style of David Byrne, so I braced myself for more of the same that has been flooding the airwaves over the last three years. But I am glad I gave them a chance, as after a couple of tracks they uncovered a lot more nuggets of originality than I thought they would, from their punchy bass notes, layered and melancholy sweeping synths to their Beak-esque driving drums and guitar.

Robbie & Mona © Vonalina Cake Photography

Park Motive left the crowd properly warmed up for what was coming next - Robbie and Mona. Since interviewing them back in the winter I had been waiting for an opportunity to hear the couple’s scrap-book glitchy dream-pop live. As interesting and subversive as their recorded music and 1930s Hollywood visual aesthetic comes across in person and on record, for some reason this did not quite resonate tonight. Don’t get me wrong, their jazz-piano tinged, layered sound, William Karkeet’s tight, innovative production coupled with singer Eleanor Gray’s strong, haunting vocals are a pleasure, but it felt a little misplaced after the proper warm-up Park Motive provided to the crowd to expect us all to quieten down again to enjoy the subtle layers and poised vibes of their set. They may have been better placed in the line-up leading our journey into the later hours rather than sandwiched between two party-starters, to give their subtlety and craft the full attention it deserves.

Which moves me on to the aforementioned second slice of party-starting bread slapped on top of the Robbie and Mona sandwich - Lynks. I’d heard the rumours - a live set from self-described ‘masked drag monster’ Lynks was going to be something else. Elton John is his biggest fan for crying out loud. Still waiting for Lynks to start I glanced at my phone and felt panicked that I had to be home in ONE HOUR. Pushing my way through the heaving, happy crowd also waiting and spotting that Big Geoff had entered the building, positioned front-left of the stage as he always used to be, not only confirmed that I was truly back in the warm arms of the Bristol live music scene proper, but that his bellwether presence meant that this was going to be an excellent last hour indeed.

Oh. My. God. Lynks, in full neon masked splendour, flanked by two elegantly wasted backing singers with humour and tight dance moves to die for, didn’t fuck around in getting the crowd absolutely frenetic and pumping, going straight in with their anthem for the uncool ‘Everyone’s Hot and I’m Not’. With my arms in the air, notebook and pen to the sky, a rapt young spectacled guy next to me shouted in my ear ‘Are you reviewing this? Make sure you say he’s the nicest guy you could ever meet’. And I can’t imagine he isn’t just that, having seen his joyful, pantominesque, queer party-for-the-senses in real life, bundling the crowd along with him on a magical journey to Rave Land, touching base with a glorious selection of tracks full of pithy social comment, via the most bonkers Courtney Barnett cover I will ever hear and a cameo appearance from Grove, whose entry on to the stage was greeted with raptourous glee from the crowd. I jot down one sentence - Pet Shop Boys on acid. Maybe that’s all you need to know.

The clock was almost striking midnight - believe me, I didn’t want to go, but the fear of being dumped by your babysitter wins over the fear of being grounded by your parents for getting home late, hands down. I tapped Von on the shoulder and handed the baton over (she wasn’t leaving now, no way) and stumbled into the night-time cool of late summer Stokes Croft for the first time in what felt like aeons, grinning from ear-to-ear. Thanks Spinny Nights for bringing me back to (night)life. It’s been too long.

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