ANOTHER REASON TO LOVE BRADFORD COX

For Student Direct.

WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE

Karen O and the Kids

Karen Orzolek is back with a sweet vengeance. She and her Kids do something presumably tricky, painting playful yet daunting mystical creatures into a something that resembles music. This soundtrack owns a poignant darkness; something which Spike Jones’ movie adaptation of cartoon Where the Wild Things Are surely epitomises. Lo and behold an unequivocally much-awaited soundtrack to an animation that has entertained adults and children alike for over forty years; the music lives up to the pastime, and inspired by a text consisting of only nine sentences, brilliantly outdoes itself.

‘Capsize’ possesses the chanting, clapping wonderful sounds reminiscent of both Yeah Yeah Yeahs and TV and the Radio collaborated (though sadly Sitek does not appear) and clearly Karen O the writer has not held back her own lingering and unavailing style for this album; it simply fits so neatly with the tone of the film she need hold any artistic expression.

Bradford Cox makes his presence known on this record perhaps not quite as prolifically as anticipated; his vocals are washed away all too often, perhaps stifled and shadowed by Karen who deservedly steals every song’s show from the Kids - consisting of Cox, Jack Lawrence, Brian Chase, Aaron Hemphill, Dean Fertita and the elusive but ever-present Nick Zinner, to name a few. Romantic expression within an otherwise all-attentive collection of songs is explored with ‘Hideway’ - it tugs at the heart strings of the broken-hearted and forlorn, urging the listener/spectator to wonder what scene it is attached to. Building All Is Love is positively cute and the kiddie choir fused with Karen’s vocals and lovely major chords make for a track in some way reminiscent of Arcade Fire’s work.

The album of course owns the tribal sound that resonates about any of O’s work, but does so in a more laid-back nevertheless tyrannical manner. She basically, dare I say hauntingly, hums her way in and out of each track, and this is surely enough to make the record striking and satisfactory enough for WTWTA creator Maurice Sendak himself. Karen and the Kids totally win with this.

ALEXANDRA PEREIRA

'Being a popstar, I'm playing myself'

For Student Direct.
INTERVIEW: Pixie Lott

It’s a classy affair as Pixie Lott prepares to take to the landmark stage of…the Arndale Shopping Centre, Manchester. Ok, so not her most glamorous venue to date, but Pixie is, for midday on a Sunday, dressed to kill in trademark and literally ‘less is more’ attire. But on being asked about that FHM cover (the prime reason of a lot of my male associates’ acute jealousy at this interview), Pixie is quick to deny selling her sexuality. How does she feel about being a pin-up? ‘Am I?’ Perhaps a little too unassumingly. Lott is soon a lot more frank about the whole situation, and really very grounded for her eighteen years. ‘I don’t really think about it to be honest. I don’t read all the other lads mags, but in the FHM shoot, in fairness, I wore practically the same thing as in the Mama Do video. It doesn’t really phase me!’

Grilled on her thoughts of the current female presence within the pop music industry, Pixie mentions not the popularised likes of La Roux, Florence and the dastardly Little Boots but reveals a long time penchant for singers, ironically, based less on the image and simply beholding strong, austere voices. ‘I still just love Adele, my favourite UK artist… does she count as new?’ Known for her own anything-but-meek dulcet tones, Lott was designed for the centre stage after being schooled at the famous Italia Conti Theatre School in London. ‘I think it really helped in the way that shows, to me, became like second nature. I don’t get nervous at all. I absolutely always loved acting and I find talking to the crowd really easy. I did a lot of musical theatre and wanted to get away from that really with my live performances.’ So why the pop business? ‘I feel you aren’t like playing a character…I am just there as myself onstage. But I do wanna make my shows massive, bigger and better.’

But not one to be heralded your typical stage school bubblegum popstar- hark Martine McCutcheon, Billie Piper, Posh Spice… Pixie reveals a rougher side with her weakness for bands like Kings of Leon, Arctic Monkeys and (sadly) The Kooks. ‘I saw MGMT when I played at V Festival this summer and it was actually the best thing I’ve ever seen. They make such good music to jump to.’ So it’s not all Les Miserábles ballads dominating Pixie’s iPod then. ‘I listen to and am inspired by everything from show songs to soul.’ Her mix of genres whilst sticking to a mainstream-approved formula of polished looks, catchy choruses and a distinct air of confidence in her work explain Pixie Lott’s rise to commercial success over recent months; fresh from her MTV European New Act nomination, Pixie shows her unaffected excitement at being a part of something so huge. ‘I just can’t wait to be going to the ceremony really!’ The next year holds within it plans to crack the US, and a possible collaboration with a Spanish artist. Does she speak Spanish? ‘Not a word. And I have to sing in it as well!’ Better dust off those theatre school skills and get learning the lines then, Pixie.

dancing in the dark

For Student Direct.

GLASTONBURY

WORTHY FARM’s annual merrymaking needs no description. To virtually every person Glastonbury is acknowledged as the mother of all existing music and arts festivals, one that has prevailing philosophy of ecological respect amidst links with Greenpeace, and the entire country shedding their suits, feigning hippy identities and prancing naked in the mud for four days.

Stepping down onto the spotless pastures of the farm, it’s always refreshing to see what has been done differently each year and whether the real thing lives up to the long held image conjured up in your mind. This year, the irrepressible presence of last year’s newcomers Trash City and Shangri-La was still fully in tact. Glastonbury ’09 was a dramatic affair, bringing warped machinery, The Boss and death; Arcadia, Bruce and Jacko were the words on everyone’s lips.

The days were filled with Jazzworld, Healing Fields and sun cream application – much to our surprise the weather contrasted drastically with the terrific showers of 2007. Naked prancing was given the go-ahead for old and young. Along with the bustle and bravado of stadium-filling headliners and super wacky amateur dramatics to the Healing Fields and Croissant Neuf, the festival’s capability to capture even the unimpressionable is still absolutely there.

But to the point, it is primarily a music affair, so on with the music. The curtains were kept drawn for a little longer this year on our headliners- Neil Young, Bruce Springsteen and Blur. Each did not disappoint, as Young chugged on with a string of hits that delighted all generations. I was sandwiched between a 65 year old and a 15 year old who both knew the words to Old Man which made me smile. I still kick myself for missing The Boss who cheekily played a superb three-hour set causing Michael Eavis a hefty fine. And it was Blur who brought the weekend to a climax with one of their rumoured last-ever festival performances, including a Weeping Damon Special where he broke down in sheer joy at the 70, 000 strong crowd’s adulation.

For me though, it was all the smaller things that made for a super duper time; The Dead Weather and their secret set cutting up the Park Stage like a buffalo (Jack’s still got it and Mosshart is hotter than ever); Peaches detonating her sexually-charged electronica upon us; Bon Iver’s magnificent twilight performance playing stuff aspiring singer-songwriters can only dream of creating. Higher up on the hype scale was Florence and her swiftly growing Machine killing the John Peel Stage in an extraordinary way, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds drawing a gargantuan crowd and a daytime trip of hip hop glory from the N.E.R.D boys, albeit awash with Jackson tributes and lashings of divalike attitude from Pharrell Williams. I am told by valuable sources that Lady Gaga’s nearly naked show was equally glorious (she even tried to play the drums) and I was personally glad to have caught one of The Maccabees’ finest sets ever before Gaga filthied the Other Stage’s surface – meant in the nicest way possible.

Next year welcomes Glasto’s 40th anniversary together with rumours of The Strokes and The Rolling Stones; even if this is codswallop, I’d go again just to dance in a mini-monsoon with circus freaks on a fire-blasting machine to acid-reggae. Nowhere else in the world…

ALEXANDRA PEREIRA

***

THE BIG CHILL

WE AMBLED ALONG just as the Zombie ‘I Spit On Your Grave’ Rave, let by King of the Dead Noel Fielding, closed. This was sad news for us but after pitching our 95 year old tent (complete with views of beautiful Eastnor Castle) we bounced out and over to the Zombie Drive-In of sound-system-infested car wreckages and onto the Malvern Hills where Toddla T and Mr Scruff played us into the weekend by twilight…

Highlights were copious but without the smallest glimmer of a doubt, Thursday’s instrumental re-scoring of Man of Aran from British Sea Power set the standard high. It was heavy, intense yet serene – reminiscent of Sigur Ros (who played here last year- BC has subtly struck gold before yet still, pleasingly, does not attract the masses) or Mogwai. Chris Cunningham Live competed for most innovative and cutting edge performance of the festival with his mash up of Sheena is a Parasite, film of a couple viciously beating each other up and the notorious Playstation advert starring a strange-craniumed young girl. As he hovered creepily underneath the explicitly exquisite imagery on the screen behind him, Cunningham’s live music juxtapositional mastery was brutal, uncomfortable and nothing short of brilliant. It’s easy to see why fellow peculiars Bjork and Aphex Twin worked with this man.

BSP: One of many Big Chill highlights

It was a pleasure as always to see Friendly Fires take their Jagger-esque hips to the stage and complete a finely perfected set of pop tunes with a harem of Brazilian Samba dancers with a calypso crescendo of Jump in the Pool. More showy pop ensued with Marina and the Diamonds’ performance, whilst Basement Jaxx got everyone dancing in their fiery and celebratory display. Celebrating the satisfaction of extra large glimmering gold lame tracksuits perhaps? They blinded me (in a fun way.)

Saturday welcomed the dreamy delights of Spiritualized and Orbital who sound tracked the perfect end to the hottest day of the year, whilst the flip flop forest and car boot art fair added to the eclectic beauty of the festival’s charm for daytime wandering. Chrome Hoof played an alarming yet enjoyable set of noise glamour rock and The Invisible duly showed their worth of a Mercury Music Prize nomination. Other contenders for best new material were Noah and the Whale who showcased their second album The First Days of Spring to a wide and impressed audience.

Sunday swelled with heat and Max Romeo played out the last of the sun with his original of Prodigy’s Out of Space. The Rizla tent’s DJ-off, featuring Micachu, entertained us sufficiently until we headed to Sitek-produced Telepathe’s superb tribal-electronica set at the Castle stage. David Byrne closed things up with a string of hits including of course, Once in a Lifetime complete with wacky dancing.

No queues. No large swaying crowds. Friendly as f**k strangers. It was all we could do not to burst into tears at the thought of leaving this metropolis of zombies, castles, lakes and forests. Absolutely an agoraphobic’s wet dream.. .

ALEXANDRA PEREIRA

***

LEEDS FESTIVAL

FLAGRANTLY LACKING a promise to be magical, mythical or pleasant, the Leeds Festival brings with it a very youth-aware crowd of lairy, ket-infested Skins fans, blinding fluoro fashion and, gulp, LADS ON TOUR peeing wherever they are standing. Despite this, the line up of the Reading and Leeds bank holiday shindig forever guarantees a special and varied line up – 2009’s being no exception. Containing my excitement for Thom Yorke and friends’ headline slot on Saturday evening was impractical- so I spent the lead up dashing about catching the very best in this year’s artists (and getting caught in a mass domino effect during Arctic Monkeys.)

The Festival Republic Stage housed some of the finest examples of ‘contemporary’ music to compete with names such as Radiohead and Placebo topping the bill over at the Main Stage. The XX blitzed the tiny tent with brooding, still dark romantic dynamism and are surely destined to get uber popular this year; Black Lips played charmingly wicked rock and roll to please girls and boys alike, and The Temper Trap posed as yet another band to play at least a whole album’s worth of decent songs, amongst them a string of hits – we’ve all seen that summer festival advert; the crowd went crazy for Sweet Disposition, it was quite cute. I later grabbed a chat with Passion Pit who told me their new found success was strangely impact-less as yet, in contrast to the shocking news of which they informed me; the Oasis split. A number of artists seemed saddened by the news, Brooklyn band Bear Hands excepted as they wandered in bewilderment over to me to ask if I’d managed to see their ‘American-looking friends’ around. The band played to a small crowd at the unfortunate time of midday Saturday but exhibited a groovy, tribal set with smooth confidence. Later, Radiohead exuded the same cool confidence with their hit-filled demonstration of professionalism. Whether you like them or not, it highlighted to me the ultimate of live music furore in the most peaceful of manners.

Sunday: I was deeply disappointed when my much-coveted interview with Placebo was cancelled due to Brian Molko’s exhaustion and slightly bewildered at his punchy, energetic performance later in the day. Due to this I abandoned their otherwise tremendous set halfway through to catch cuties Bombay Bicycle Club. The day will come where they are no longer referred to as youngsters, and that day they do deserve as their sound has been honed to near indie-pop flawlessness since they blasted onto the underage scene in 2007.

After Kings of Leon’s shocking behaviour at Reading two days earlier, I was nervous at what mouthful Caleb would hand his northern audience. Not to be proved predictable, the Followills were cheerier than I’ve ever witnessed them… gurning almost. They hurled out classics aplenty and cleverly kept the newer dribble that had caused such Reading fury to a minimum (it was documented that the crowd only knew Sex on Fire). ‘You have already blown Reading to hell,’ Caleb gushed. ‘We love you Leeds.’ Yay for the North. And welcome, freshers.

ALEXANDRA PEREIRA

***

http://www.student-direct.co.uk/2009/09/dancing-in-the-dark-festival-round-up-special/

BBC

http://news.bbc.co.uk/local/manchester/hi/people_and_places/music/newsid_8326000/8326386.stm

GOD IS IN THE TV (ZINE)

...This stuff isn't chronological until I work out how blogs work. Until someone shows me I am clueless.

Telepathe + The XX@ Manchester, Deaf Institute
20.05.09
Alexandra Pereira

I’ve never witnessed such a mass crush on one person whatsoever. Perhaps this is what makes Brooklyn girl duo Telepathe (and broodingly handsome singer Busy Gagnes in particular) so initially striking, for at the forefront of their dark,synth and drums electronica beats a powerful sexual prowess and awareness that entices boys and girls alike.

Opening with their well-known hit Chrome’s on It, Telepathe instantly played up to the avant-garde joke of present Brooklyn and reminded us of Dave Sitek’s influence on the music; his artistic presence is extremely blatant but equally brilliant as his familiar production use of feedback, and ambient synths screech out of the Deaf Institute’s speakers. After personally seeing them at London’s Concrete + Glass in October, where they supported TV on the Radio, Telepathe integrate influences from their previous outfits Wikkid and Ex-Models into the innovative new sonic experimentation that is their debut album Dance Mother. Connections with the elite of New York and London’s music scenes has had both negative and positive impact on the band, whose ‘hipster’ vibe sometimes distracts from what is possibly, one of the best new acts of the past year. Contrastingly, their trendy mingling has served them well in terms of media exposure and it’s clear from the crowd tonight that this is a gig ‘to be seen at.’ A bad thing perhaps, a success in some form nevertheless.

Percussionist/co-synth player Melissa Livaudais was the cuter, bouncier one of the two beating a time-perfect pulse with drum pads on songs such as In Your Line. The songs have a certain 80s dancehall (yet militant) feel to them and the result is fascinatingly like the earliest and best sound of Human League with a dash of Bjork with The March. Lights Go Down sounding startlingly like something Thom Yorke could have worked on. To further intensify the surrealist tone of their live performance and lure in the avant-garde partisan were peppered some spoken word/rap vocals on Devil’s Trident, which nostalgically and outrageously reminded me of both Baz Luhrmann’s Everybody Free (To Wear Sunscreen) and early Destiny’s Child. Visually, the show was simplistic and gaudy at the same time. The beeps and bleats of their extensive equipment (but noticeably cheap keyboard) was loud, overpowering and complicated, but worked brilliantly with the frontwomens’ understated stance and charm. Behind them was a psychedelic makeshift Powerpoint show, it seemed, throwing shapes, colours and patterns across in time with the music.

Amidst the softer-than-soft catchy lyrics are some unusual themes like living on other planets and bizarrely, taking a boy into a forest to perform sexual favours and proceeding to execute him. Wow. You can tell a lot of thought went into the percussion of Telepathe’s music and this really came through in the live show. Undoubtedly a fairly pretentious show that maybe had the potential to have been terrible but worked perfectly due to the blasé approach of Telepathe’s live presence.

catalogue

It is about time I started a blog after many people instructing me to do so.

I shall start by exposing my tiny weeny audience a selection of journalism (mostly music) I have done over the past year. Things I am proud of, some I am not so proud of. Everyone starts somewhere.

And Lexington Pez is a ridiculous but horribly catchy name given to me by my lovely friends this summer. It makes me sound like a hotel, a pornstar and a nineties sweet all rolled into one (the best things in life, surely?)

From last year's radio show with Fras is this.
We are about to embark on a brand new show with Zara Meerza joining New Slang.

01.03.09

Black Lips Interview by Fuse FM

Alex Pereira of 'Lex & Fras New Slang' caught up with Black Lips before their show at the Deaf Institute last week. Hear the interview here

https://fusefm.co.uk/interviews/black-lips-interview-fuse-fm

This show was also filmed, here's a short excerpt. IT WAS AMAZING. The Deaf Institute in Manchester is fast-becoming the city's best live venue by far: