I was at the Bush Hall gig last night to see Sophia. I was disappointed if I am honest.
To start with the positives:
Adam Franklin def added something last night in terms of his guitar work. If I remember correctly, the last two times I saw Sophia I don't think he played. (Or if he did he didn't stand out.) AF was subtle in what he did but creative with it too. He wasn't playing by 'wrote' so to speak.
Astrid also sang really well and doubled up on keyboards. She has great stage presence and it would be interesting to see her live in her own right.
The support act, William Fitzsimmons, was a revelation. His songs were really good and he dealt with the audience in a gracious and self-effacing manner, which went down really well.
I think a lot went wrong last night too. Robin broke a string after the second song. (Which he can't really be blamed for.) The lyrical phrasing in Desert Song No 2 seemed to be off slightly. The band as a whole seemed a little rusty, though Robin did do Heartbreak with just strings.
I was standing at the back and a lot of people left throughout the gig. I was trying to figure out what was going on...
The songs are not the problem. (Although Robin joked after Something that this is when people start screaming out 'Home' or 'Desert Song'.)
I know it's a strange thing to say but I think Robin paid too much attention to his friends and the people who have supported Sophia for a long time. There was nothing there that was all encompassing. As a result, anyone who hadn't heard off or been to a Sophia gig before probably felt excluded. At one point Robin asked how many English people where in the room and he counted four. I know he was only joking (he had Welsh and Itailian friends present) but this could have came across pretty badly. It might have sounded like a knawing resentment for Sophia's lack of recognition in England. I noticed a few English girls leave after that. (They were originally standing beside me outside. One friend trying to convince the other how good Sophia was.)
One of Robin's Italian friends spoke to me outside the gig too. He pointed to the Sophia sign and asked, 'Is that Robin Proper-Sheppard? You know he is my friend.' Then he talked about how there was no coverage in the English press for the new album. (I even tried writing something myself!)
It reminded me of what the writer and journalist Will Self talked about the night before in Camden. He said the press' commercial interests dictate what is written about these days, with the result that words are no longer free. Picking up from that, the only way then for Sophia to get coverage in the UK is to create a vibe so the press jump on the band wagon. (Not visa-versa.)
I read an interview recently with Malcolm Middleton and he said that anyone who was commercially successful these days had sold their soul in some way. I can't help but disagree. This sounds too much like self-rightousness. It's too easy to start pointing the finger at others when you do not have the level of success that you might wish for. In truth Sophia and Middleton are brilliant artists. You just can't be defeatist when things don't work out. You just have to re-think your approach.
The thing to do is engage with the wider audience and get the vibe working. That's what happened with punk in the early eighties and grunge in the nineties.
It was a shame considering I travelled the whole way from Belfast. I have such huge respect for this band and I felt that they were not up to scratch.
A place for not so random thoughts and musings using highly selective criteria that is not immediately apparent.
Showing posts with label Robin Proper-sheppard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robin Proper-sheppard. Show all posts
Thursday, 14 May 2009
Sunday, 3 May 2009
Sophia: There are no Goodbyes
The album begins with what sounds like a hunter’s horn; this musical image indicative of the journey that is to come. Acoustic guitars are blended with subtle atmospherics and dark haunting lyrics. The first line is delivered with a gentle resignation: "I lost my head in a landslide.”
‘There Are No Goodbyes’ is about many types of loss; loss of self, loss of location, loss of happiness and loss of life. It is a piece of work that struggles with the enduring desire to find the eternal friend. That life will always fail in this respect gives this collection of songs their edge.
In the song ‘Dreaming,’ dreams are entwined with reality, “You held me close and said you could sense the torment inside me. You even touched my cheek to see if I was still breathing. But I was only dreaming.”
The conflict between the pursuit of friendship and the many ways in which friends are lost, is the source of the pain expressed. Nevertheless, the conclusion is never reached that one should give up the pursuit. On the contrary, the song ‘Something’ expresses self-doubt, the imperfections of the individual but holds onto the idea of love as the source of meaning.
‘Signs’ tangles up such meaning. People are forever being misunderstood and misinterpreted. The loss of friendship is explored here as the failure to properly connect. The hunter has failed to capture his beloved; the romantic pursuit frustrated by the failure to read signs. The ideal of the beloved is thus contrasted with the more messy and untidy aspect of the everyday relationship.
‘Heartbreak’ is rendered with strings and a gentle acoustic guitar. It is sparse, open and vulnerable. It is a song about the unexplained absence of a loved one: “I’m like a child waiting for the postman at the front door.” There is also a level of emotional maturity when Robin Proper-Sheppard sings, “I guess I should know by now that nothing ever lasts.”
Still, there is a sense of progress with the album. The songs here are not a sadcore musical confession of a singer-songwriter stuck in an emotional rut. The last song ‘Portugal’ contrasts well with the opening lyric: “I took my head and turned my face to the sun.” The existential delight at being alive, being able to breathe and take stock is a resolution of sorts.
‘There Are No Goodbyes’ should be enjoyed in an intimate setting. Draw the curtains, dim down the lights and relax with a glass of Shiraz.
‘There Are No Goodbyes’ is about many types of loss; loss of self, loss of location, loss of happiness and loss of life. It is a piece of work that struggles with the enduring desire to find the eternal friend. That life will always fail in this respect gives this collection of songs their edge.
In the song ‘Dreaming,’ dreams are entwined with reality, “You held me close and said you could sense the torment inside me. You even touched my cheek to see if I was still breathing. But I was only dreaming.”
The conflict between the pursuit of friendship and the many ways in which friends are lost, is the source of the pain expressed. Nevertheless, the conclusion is never reached that one should give up the pursuit. On the contrary, the song ‘Something’ expresses self-doubt, the imperfections of the individual but holds onto the idea of love as the source of meaning.
‘Signs’ tangles up such meaning. People are forever being misunderstood and misinterpreted. The loss of friendship is explored here as the failure to properly connect. The hunter has failed to capture his beloved; the romantic pursuit frustrated by the failure to read signs. The ideal of the beloved is thus contrasted with the more messy and untidy aspect of the everyday relationship.
‘Heartbreak’ is rendered with strings and a gentle acoustic guitar. It is sparse, open and vulnerable. It is a song about the unexplained absence of a loved one: “I’m like a child waiting for the postman at the front door.” There is also a level of emotional maturity when Robin Proper-Sheppard sings, “I guess I should know by now that nothing ever lasts.”
Still, there is a sense of progress with the album. The songs here are not a sadcore musical confession of a singer-songwriter stuck in an emotional rut. The last song ‘Portugal’ contrasts well with the opening lyric: “I took my head and turned my face to the sun.” The existential delight at being alive, being able to breathe and take stock is a resolution of sorts.
‘There Are No Goodbyes’ should be enjoyed in an intimate setting. Draw the curtains, dim down the lights and relax with a glass of Shiraz.
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
The God Machine- The Desert Song
Everyone remembers 'eureka!' moments; like the time you finally figured out how to do long division in maths class. Life is full of such moments, when a difficulty is surmounted and you finally 'get it'. Sometimes, we even get such 'eureka!' moments when something has not been playing on us, when we have not been experiencing any difficulty. We can be surprised by insights sometimes, as if someone has given us an unexpected gift.
When I first heard The God Machine's "The Desert Song' this was such a moment. The production is full of middle eastern influences that provoke the imagination, of incidental bits of music that push forward what music can achieve.
The desert is the location for the production of the three main monothesitic religions. One can imagine the wide open spaces, the sheer size of which is both intimidating and inspiring. Unlike city dwellers, it is impossible too become to wrapped up in your own circumstances as a desert rat. You are forced outward, needing to rely on your wits in an environment that is intoxicating.
This track intermingles such influences sonically by suggesting important influences like the music of prayer in mosques. Even the 'talking track' is subtle in its execution, referring to a theme of western philosophy since Descartes: "Why people are destroyed by lack of knowledge because doubt has rejected knowledge." This is music that really pushes the imagination in a creative and engaging way.
The desert is the home of the prophet.
When I first heard The God Machine's "The Desert Song' this was such a moment. The production is full of middle eastern influences that provoke the imagination, of incidental bits of music that push forward what music can achieve.
The desert is the location for the production of the three main monothesitic religions. One can imagine the wide open spaces, the sheer size of which is both intimidating and inspiring. Unlike city dwellers, it is impossible too become to wrapped up in your own circumstances as a desert rat. You are forced outward, needing to rely on your wits in an environment that is intoxicating.
This track intermingles such influences sonically by suggesting important influences like the music of prayer in mosques. Even the 'talking track' is subtle in its execution, referring to a theme of western philosophy since Descartes: "Why people are destroyed by lack of knowledge because doubt has rejected knowledge." This is music that really pushes the imagination in a creative and engaging way.
The desert is the home of the prophet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)