For the most part, I reckon bands nowadays make a better fist of 1980s music than the ‘80s bands did themselves. I’ll admit to being more into Miffy the Rabbit, Thomas the Tank Engine and Panini sticker albums at the time, but I do recall that most music I heard during my formative decade was pretty shit. So the electro revival that’s been kicking around these past few years is just dandy by me – it sounds like the ‘80s should have been; less Milli Vanilli, more industrial beats and luxuriant, wall-to-wall synth.
Which brings us, in a roundabout, rambling sort of way, to Sierra Maestra. When the south London five piece took to the Water Rats stage I was wilting visibly, a brewlicious afternoon in the pub followed by a long, hot gig having reduced me to a sad human dishcloth. So thank God for the electro ripples of opening number ‘You I Fear’ that presaged a refreshing shower of brooding poptronica. And cheers to the deity of your choice for the other tunes that made up rest of Sierra Maestra’s set, such as the rather excellent ‘If This Goes Right’ and closing number ‘When The Lights Go Down’.
The sincerest form of flattery it may be, but Sierra Maestra fortunately avoids the pitfall of slavish imitation – there’s a refreshingly contemporary sensibility to all these retro shenanigans. Fortunate also that frontman Richard Acosta has got the right voice for the job, flitting like a chamois of the Alps from detached downbeat to classic indie; on ‘Desert Waters’, for example, his voice takes on almost Gallagheresque tone (minus the overdone Salford accent, that is).
Hopefully it’s only a matter of time until some label lassoes Sierra Maestra – if this is what they sound like after a scant few months’ active service, it’ll be interesting to listen to them when they’ve got an album or two under their collective belt.




Trudging to the Old Blue Last on a chilly, downright Dickensian evening, I would quite happily have chucked the whole shebang for a night in front of the TV, watching River Tam kick people balletically in the face. The wind was biting; the plus one stroppy. Add a smattering of raggedy chimney sweeps and tubercular flower girls, and the scene of misery would have been complete.
Dressed all in black, and barely cracking a smile, the Filthy Tongues launched straight into the rhythmic spoken word number ‘Dreamcatcher’. Isa remained off stage, her sultry vocals permeating the room, with only a twitching mic lead to hint at her presence. It was a smart piece of showmanship, creating a sense of anticipation in the audience. Isa (aka Stacey Travis) eventually ambled on stage for the second number, to groove and flounce provocatively through a tight and potent set of non-nonsense, lo-fi indie rock.
Erland And The Carnival sounds like it might be the name of the kids’ TV show, but in fact they are a band who have set themselves the objective of creating a fresh style for British folk music. This involves writing tunes that are inspired in equal measure by traditional songs and darker post-punk sounds.
Dag For Dag are an exiting prospect to keep an eye on this year. With debut album ‘Boo’ due for release on Feb 22nd, this trio of Swedish indie rockers, including brother and sister Sarah and David Snavely, are slowly gathering a lot of new fans.
Celebrating the launch of their debut single ‘Phonographic Love’, funky indie-pop trio Cha Cha headlined the Friday slot at 93 Feet East on Brick Lane. The assured Lyrebirds gave solid support; with some bold guitar work, and excellent lead vocals. They sounded a bit like early Echo and the Bunnymen and look a good prospect.
Californian stoner rock veterans, Fu Manchu kicked off their two month European tour last night at Islington’s 02 Academy.
With the pseudonym Is Tropical, you could be forgiven for imagining that these musician’s were to be a tanned bunch of lascivious Adonis’ meticulously crafting an amalgamation of flagrant licks and bleeps. Well, the second part is relevant. The first is just a premonition- Is Tropical is in fact a trio shrouded in their own tatty scarves with just a mere snippet of their peep holes visible. And, I’m sure underneath, skin as ashen as an albino.
Anyone with a passing interest in the beautiful game knows that wearing golden boots is a bit of a statement. David Beckham could; Tomas Brolin not so much. So when Volcanoes frontman Sam Bedford rocked up on stage in aureate sneakers, the chunk of this reviewer’s brain that is forever football curled a metaphorical lip, as if to say ‘Think we’re good, do we? We’ll see about that’.
Bringing festive cheer to the capital on a bitter winter evening, Goldie Lookin’ Chain burst onto the stage in a whirlwind of banter, bling and funky hip-hop. The GLC Office Christmas Party tour treated the small but spirited crowd at Islington Academy to greatest hits such as ‘Billy Webb’s Lament’, ‘Your Mother’s Got A Penis’ and ‘Half-man, Half-machine’ from their 2004 breakthrough album of the same name. Adding to mix were a smattering of pre-fame, brasher numbers along with solid new tracks such as ‘Everybody Is A DJ’ and the excellent ‘By Any Means Necessary’. GLC are a hilarious live act that keep up a fun tempo of party anthems. They are dirty, offensive and just don’t seem to care what they say on stage. This is a good thing. It’s refreshing for a live act to drop any pretentions and have such a great repertoire between themselves and the crowd.