Field Day

You have to hand it to the organisers of Field Day 2012, they assembled a line up to appeal to catholic tastes. Followers of world internet dance as represented by Sleigh Bells et al are well catered for. For me however it's off to sneak a listen to Peaking Lights stalker paced US dubtronica before Aussie's Pond melt my eyeballs into puddles of pure punk prog mercury. Django Django's 'Waveforms' sounds refreshingly crisp from a dark tent but Fennesz has the MBV recalling sound of confusion to match a Jagermeister induced state. Erasing the tapes  of your mind with a bogglingly simple mix of delay pedal, mimimal classically inspired guitar and a little valve opening he still unleashes an avalanche of noise which could unwittingly encase you in God's own weep drop.

Apropos of new 4AD signing Grimes, who packs a huge tent to bursting with folk singing back her songs, there's a strand of music I like called hauntological music. Suggesting that the past inhabits the present in ghostly traces, it appeals to me because it suggests a partial escape pod from modernity. Performed by group's named thing like Belbury Poly who use evocative, analogue sounds, it's time capsule music which channels past idealism to sometimes bittersweet effect.


Similarly Grimes brings massive rave generation shapes but with an everyday magic, kitchen sink atmosphere recalling not only 4AD label shimmer but also 80's Cherry Red artists. I'm surprised people old enough to remember prefab housing are often so blindly against retro - Grimes recontextualises old sounds with such artistry, it's like hearing snippets of old songs unexpectedly in Skins, her anthemic songs sounding groundingly familiar.


With brings us to the Village Mentality tent, whose name suggests more hauntology, presented to us by The Quietus. A play on the modern global village or a nostalgic throwback? Who knows - bypassing any reputation for chin stroking, Tortoise make you pinch yourself and get some of the festival's most sincere applause. Often dual drummered and with much swapping of instruments, they shimmy past tricky free jazz for bebop which sounds authentically classic. Mazzy Star then offer the man in the moon a smoke with their lapping, narcotic, lunar blues. That Hope Sandoval's honeyed vocals get caught in a sonic fug kind of adds to this Lynch mob's effect.


The only drawback is that the bar nearby sells beer at £ 4 70 a pint, suggesting that the mythical village may be somewhere in the Hampshire stockbroker belt.

CREEP - Days ft. Romy (The xx) (DOWNLOAD)

Witch house, 'drag'

Flagged up as a sub genre by Pitchfork last year, witch house, or 'drag', is a deliberately opaque internet music trend based around artists recording mainly out of Houston's Disaro and New York's Tri Angle labels. The term's connect seemingly un geographically connected artists making murky, slow bpm electronic music which sounds like hip hop or mainstream r 'n' b / dance detourned to a variety of sub cultural purposes, ranging from strong elements of 80's industrial / goth stylisation to more reflective, muted music which sounds like club music turned to more reflective, introspective purpose, its sense of communion now something more mysterious, rather like Burial.

Of the latter, Creep, who record for Tri Angle, have just recorded a track with Romy Madely Croft from the XX, who have made music which also sounds like club music turned in on itself. Music for clubbers who don't get out much and with many witch house artists using names resembling esoteric symbols rather like the alphabet there's a sense they want to keep a coven to themselves. It all may prove just a passing fad but it's an interesting new texture for the likes of Xenomania to pilllage and also rather suggests that the shy, quiet minimalists may be about to hit big.

Domino Radio

Another radio station popped up on the UK's airwaves this week. Domino records has its own radio station up this week until Sunday 12 - it's a truism, but the news seems to mirror the fragmented state of the record industry.

We now, for example, have not only Glastonbury and the more established festivals but also a bewildering variety of boutique festivals catering to niche and genre. Radio,too, is a case of specialization.

I could get misty eyed about how the whole family used to listen to John Peel around the Bakelite and miss the unity that Top Of The Pops used to bring ( now there's iTunes and whatever ) but this may miss the point. The exposure Peel gave to developing genres such as dubstep is now covered by specialist stations such as Rinse FM 106.8, which I listen to occasionally. With his Grimy Breakfast show they have a star in DJ Scratcha, who knows his Stones Throw from his dark dubstep and while the station's other shows often cater to niche dance music nostalgia you can still hear visionary tracks like LTJ Bukem's 'Good Times'. I'd never heard this track but nearly 20 years after it was made it sounded a ( very) fast track to urban music's future.

I wanted to make some vague point about how dissipation of media and increased availability has perhaps devalued music but also to be positive about Peel like enthusiasts like Scratcha across diverse media. And you can't really blame the medium of the internet - it's up to us to invest culture with value. So i'll shout my mouth off about Becoming Real, who've i've just listened to on Soundcloud - great! And mention Egyptian Hip Hop, Wu Lyf, Young British Artists, The Horrors and All The Young. Use the media, step away, the music's still good.

http://dominorad.io/schedule

The Fall at Koko, London, 1st June

After thirty five years we know to expect from Mark E Smith a non conformist, anti pretension, anti trend stance, humour in sour grapes and the three R's - repetition, repetition, repetition ( his words). Having seen The Fall for the first time last night I found that while they undoubtedly embodied the above qualities the key was that they could still make a strange display of the familiar and commonplace after all this time.

The fine band struck up a mean rockabilly groove from start which made an sure platform for Smith's declamatory lyrics. He was in strong voice throughout, with 'Cowboy George' twang C&W stylings a fine showcase for the group, which maybe the fiftheth incaranation of the Fall, who knows.

There was a little theatre also with Smith suddenly becoming preoccupied with the end of his arm, like a Mancunian Hamlet, minus Yorick's skull. Mortality but also just the strange otherness of the ordinary. It was kind of wistful but Smith will still be going for years