Festivals 2007: Tin Pan Alley
While everyone's all a flurry setting up, a crowd is steadily growing outside the gates to Denmark Street.
It’s the fourth year that Britain’s most musical promenade has been closed off for the Tin Pan Alley festival. And while everyone’s all a flurry setting up, a crowd is steadily growing outside the gates to Denmark Street.
Brighton youngsters My Device are eager to open up the festival with their fiery clamour.
Having only played one other festival this year they’re understandably excited. “This is awesome. Totally cool,” says frontman Tod. “We have a good spot because people are here early and as we’re a lesser name there’s no one amazing to go after.”
At first they give the impression of a poor man’s Biffy Clyro with jangley guitars and tuneful screaming, but by the end of the set they’ve developed into their own style. They have a habit of shouting “ow” throughout songs – not in a Michael Jackson sense, but a shit-I-just-hammered-my-thumb sense. Songs such as 'Fountain Of Youth' and current single 'Eat Led' prove that the boys are skilful song writers and musicians. Ok, so at some points the guitar is 100 times faster than the rest of the band, but that’s nothing a little experience can’t cure. And after a swift 30 minutes, they’re off, just in time to greet the rain. Naturally, it wouldn’t be a true British festival without it, so for Post War Years the heavens open up and the umbrellas are unleashed.
They stun the crowd with unexpected high pitches wedged between almost monotone vocals, and the three in the front harmonise like an indie-boy choir. They produce strange noises with their mouths (something resembling a strangled cat in Counterparts) and array of keys and synths. PWY change tempos various amounts to keep you on your toes, similar to Late Of The Pier. They don’t make sense but they sound something akin to ideal. 'You And Me Both' brushes hints towards Tom Vek with straight-faced vocals and heart thumping bass lines that are impossible not to dance to.
Following a huge uplift in the atmosphere it’s a shame that the gloomy 35 Seconds should take to the stage in full black outfits. They throw out grating noises that clash awfully with the harsh whining from the singer. Not even a visual spectacle, they’ve lost their “little techno blips” as well, and the guitarist looks like he’s about to keel over from boredom. They incite a meagre reaction in the crowd and now it’s raining so hard that it doesn’t matter where you stand, you’re still going to get drenched.
The crowd have given up hope with umbrellas and are happily prancing around in the down pour when The People’s Revolutionary Choir come on. With three of them in sunglasses despite the weather and a singer that bares a shocking resemblance to Ian Brown - the enigmatic attitude to accompany him – they carry a mammoth air of confidence. They create a euphoric atmosphere with buoyant organ lines and down to earth guitars, and even manage to bring the sun out again.
The sound of waterlogged shoes can be heard squelching closer to the front for Sunset Cinema Club. When they hit the stage they play so calmly that it’s hard to believe they’re creating the hectic energy that wafts rapidly through the alley, in which a punk-ridden angst overlapping pop vocals is contained. They sound like The Automatic and Dartz! having a wrestling match, with their penetrating riffs and shouting extravaganza.
'Gojira Suit' is the stand out track of the set and the audience is lapping it up, dancing manically to three pokerfaced lads.
As the day progresses we shift from pokerfaces to utter mysteries. When Bolt Action Five come to entertain us a double take has to be made. Dan (vox) looks like a child with a bowl-cut and an oversized (borrowed) green jumper, while Tobias (guitar) looks like a new rave cave man – complemented by drainpipes and a headband to tame his messy, dirty-blonde hair.
Though petite, Dan busts out some phenomenal yelps while moon-walking his way around the stage. Blips and beats whiz around him and intertwine with erratic guitars and intense bass lines.
“We had some technical fuck ups and everyone [audience] was a bit ‘errr’ because they don’t know us,” Dan expresses. “We got here in a rush, so just jumped straight on stage. We didn’t even have time to line check.” We were too hooked on the danceable-ness to notice. 'Tree Friend Tree Foe' was a whirlwind of high hats and dirty effects, with sexy, husky vocals. Meanwhile on the slower side of the BAF spectrum, 'Can The Freedom' carried shrill vocals that rocked us gently on an ocean of genius. But we can’t get sidetracked by one band for too long because before you know it, another group of fresh faces have already stepped up.
Hailing from Darlington, We Start Fires have a commercial sound that stands out from the other sets we’ve seen so far. A near-all-girl band, they flick their hair in the breeze and flutter those eyelashes, but it doesn’t distract from the weak vocals. Think of The Bravery as girls, with the same lazily cobbled together lyrics (“Don’t look down / I’ll make you feel safe and sound.”). But hey, they shout in unison and their songs are semi-catchy.
What the crowd want though, is someone to really show them how it’s done, and Future Of The Left are just the band for the job.
The Welsh rockers couldn’t be further from WSF. Three hairy men hammering out the heaviest riffs this stage has seen today, with growling, deep and hypnotic vocals. They’re the filthy secret you want to keep from everyone, because once out it’ll knock everyone off their feet. Hair flies in all directions as people head bang. Even the girls who were doing the Macarena are head banging. Images of trolls doing a thriller-esque routine in a darkened woods spring to mind, and their lyrics are just as odd – “thanks for the meadows / you take the A roads and we’ll have the towns” – amusing if nothing else. As concentrated frowns sit on all their faces they work the crowd into such frenzy that (next band up) Help She Can’t Swim come out to fits of screams.
Immediately they start bashing out noise that bends into an effortless winner. Tom (vox/guitar) leaps around, pulling his legs tightly into the air while thrashing out a sharp series of riffs that prick your skin and sting your soul. Their lyrics are unique and cleverly compiled. There’s a lot more behind this band than the tight jeans and cool haircuts. No longer do they just rush through their songs at 100mph, the new material is earnest and they take their time over it.
That’s not to say that the ‘Swim have gone all soppy on us, they just sound tighter as a band.
Tom and Leesey’s (vox/keys) laments through Pass The Hat Around are poetic and bring a tear to the brink of eyes throughout the lane. While previous single 'Hospital Drama' and howling hit 'Fermez La Bouche' hammer the dance into you.
It’s nearing the end of the night now and Dan Le Sac Vs. Scroobius Pip are set to go. “We’re really looking forward to it,” says Scroobius Pip, undoubtedly the man with the coolest beard in the music industry. “And because it’s free there will be people there who don’t necessarily know us.” But the anticipation spread across everyone’s faces claims to say otherwise.
“I really wanted to see Bolt Action Five, but we got here late. I saw an air guitarist though - he was average.” And with that Scroobius steps casually onto the stage with a suitcase full of wonders, accompanied by his staunch collaborator Dan Le Sac.
Dressed in a sharp suit, teamed with a baseball cap, Scroobius oozes conviction and delivers his lines with pinpoint accuracy. While Dan Le Sac sits in the background in full concentration, staring intently at his nifty Mac producing effortless beats. They fire up the audience with erratic mantras 'Fixed', 'Beat That My Heart Skipped' and 'Letter From God'. They’re a modern-day, alternative to British hip hop, mixing artists ranging from Dizzee Rascal to Radiohead swiftly into tracks.
Gathering together his props (from that trusty trunk) Scroobius illustrates his lyrics with an assortment of pointers, ties, glasses and even periodic tables. It’s not so much something to dance to as something to jerk around to.
Climaxing on the illustrious single 'Thou Shalt Always Kill', they lay things out, tell it for what it is, spelling out the ridiculous influence that the media has: “thou shalt think for yourselves.”
Dan and Scroobius are straightforward and uncomplicated. They make music to enjoy, simple.
And so we manage to reach the end of the day without another bout of rain. The smiles are beyond countable in this clammy evening as the sun draws in and the puddles slowly fade beneath the retreating feet. Same time next year?
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