A Question of Sound #3: Social Networking Redeems Itself

Originally published on No Ripcord on 30 September, this is the third edition of my “A Question Of Sound” column.

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A lot has been written about the impact of social networking sites on emerging artists. In fact, the subject quickly became something of a cliché for bloggers and professional journalists, each clambering to tell their tale of how band x notched up y friends and translated this virtual hype into z sales. I recall a strange phase 12 to 18 months ago when publicists were actually quoting friend numbers. This, mercifully, has subsided and the whole thing seems to have become, well, kind of expected. So your band has 1,291 MySpace friends and a thriving Facebook fan page? Join the club.

In August, though, I heard through a friend of a band that had landed a festival appearance near Düsseldorf courtesy of a chance MySpace encounter. I started thinking the unthinkable: maybe social networking isn’t a complete waste of time. Maybe that latest friend request could lead to a creative meeting of minds. Or maybe not. I’ll leave you to chew on that while I recount the story of Circus Animals’ Desertion’s German début.

In order to explain how the four members of Circus Animals’ Desertion, a dream-pop outfit from Greater Manchester, found themselves in north western Germany, it is necessary to introduce another band. Formed in the mid-eighties in Nordrhein-Westfalen, Germany, RX Only has been playing locally, releasing singles on its own Subdued Sounds label, and organising summer RX Only live parties for a number of years.

This year, however, the band decided to do things a little differently. Multi-instrumentalist Tom Christen explains:

“As we all now are 40 plus, my mates all seem to have lost their motivation and creativity. We were regularly meeting as a band, but mostly we played silly computer games, so I had the idea of organizing a ‘RX Only Party’ without RX Only, just to see, if my folks would get ‘hot’ again.”

When it came to organising the show, which would eventually feature three headline acts on an outdoor stage, MySpace played a key role. Leipzig’s Lipstix, all all-girl power-pop quartet, was recommended by a friend, although the arrangements were subsequently made through the social networking site. RX Only stumbled upon Düsseldorf-based Derby during a MySpace search for local bands, and it was in a similar fashion that Tom Christen discovered Circus Animals’ Desertion.

“When I started looking for “friends” on MySpace I concentrated on Manchester, especially on the Chameleons, as our band’s main common influence is the Chameleons. Circus Animals’ Desertion were on my friend-list for a while and one fine day I saw the ad for a Club Chameleon show at The Star and the Garter, a gig that had to be cancelled ironically, and I wrote to Peter (the band’s bassist) about my weird idea… ‘Dreams never end’ I called the first message.”

For the Circus Animals themselves, it was something of a surprise. “The furthest we’d played from Manchester was Ashton-under-Lyne,” laughs Peter. “But as soon as I told Ste (vocalist/guitarist), Chris (guitarist) and Jon (drums) about it, we were all very excited by the idea.”

Using MySpace as a communication platform, the details were finalised, the flights booked, and one day in late August, Circus Animals’ Desertion boarded a low-cost flight for Düsseldorf. As EU citizens, there were no logistical/legal problems with regard to the show, and RX Only sorted out the accommodation, airport transfers and pre- and post-gig entertainment. What could go wrong?

Aside from the weather – relentless rain, which probably followed the Salford-based band over the channel – nothing, it seems. Circus Animals’ Desertion played one of their strongest ever sets to a crowd of interested German music fans who, judging by the audible cheers on the soundboard bootleg, had a great time.

“It was unusual to play to a such an enthusiastic crowd,” admits Peter. “In England, people tend to be more reserved to new bands, as if approval is needed to show interest. In Düsseldorf, people were shouting for more until after 75 minutes, we had no more songs to play. And this was after even the worst run through of Boy’s Don’t Cry you’ll ever hear.”

The band also sold a healthy number of copies of its début album after the show, which seems to confirm the success story. And just as Tom Christen had hoped, the positive experience also seems to have energised the career of RX Only. The band celebrates its 25th anniversary in 2009 and plans to release its own début album, a decision which Tom admits “was very much influenced by the CAD record, which impressed us.”

Plans are already being made for an RX Only/Circus Animals’ Desertion double header in Manchester in April 2009 – a second leg, if you like. Whether this happens or not, and something tells me it will, RX Only and Circus Animals’ Desertion have collectively restored my faith in the powers of social networking to do good.

“We’ve shied away from using MySpace as many others do, to a large degree,” admits Peter. “We don’t go around trying to add 20 people a day as ‘friends’. What’s the point? Are they really going to be interested in our music? But in this instance, it’s been a really useful tool in connecting with like-minded people to do something productive and worthwhile.”

If more bands can find a way to use these sites creatively, in a personal and friendly manner, then the world will certainly be a better and far more interesting place. A parting message to all the artists reading this: please, please bear this in mind the next time you even think of artificially inflating your friend numbers. It is after all, the quality of your friendships, not the quantity, that makes the difference in the end.

Those all-important MySpace URLs:
* http://www.myspace.com/circusanimalsdesertion
* http://www.myspace.com/subduedsounds

A Question of Sound #2: Letterbox Records Feature

A sleepy, isolated town on the West Cumbrian coast, Whitehaven is probably one of the last places – in England, and possibly the world – where you’d expect to find a thriving indie-pop record label. There are no proper record shops (no, Smith’s and Woolies don’t count) and the only established music venue has, at the time of writing, precisely three gigs booked for 2008. Don’t get me wrong, Whitehaven’s a nice place in many ways – it’s also happens to be my hometown – but I can tell from experience that growing up as a music fan there is pretty tough.

Thanks to the efforts of one man, however, things are changing. Whitehaven may not have a great band to call its own but now, thanks to Gavin Stephenson’s Letterbox Records, it does at least have a great record label. Specialising in classic indie-pop music, Letterbox is rapidly gaining a name for itself on the back of a string of impressive album releases including, most recently, the debut albums from Scotland’s Amateurs and Sweden’s Penny Century. This is the story behind the label’s success.

After graduating from university, Gavin moved to Glasgow on the basis of the city’s “super indie-pop scene”. From here, he made what he describes as his “most ludicrous yet enterprising decision” by applying for an unpaid internship at Shelflife Records in San Francisco. His application was accepted and Gavin packed his bags and crossed the Atlantic to serve a valuable apprenticeship with the label. He explains:

“I applied for this internship so I could ‘learn the trade’, before creating Letterbox, but I gained some much more from my time at Shelflife, not least a wonderful friendship. After a year, I moved back to the UK, bought letterboxrecords.com and the rest, as they say, is history.”

Upon his return, Gavin returned home to Whitehaven home to set up his label. Despite the town’s location, a draining 320 mile drive from London, the supposed epicentre of the UK music industry, he doesn’t see it as a major disadvantage “thanks to the Internet”.

It’s perhaps indicative of the San Francisco label’s influence on Gavin that his first Letterbox release came from a former Shelflife act, The Arrogants. The band had already released You’ve Always Known When Best to Say Goodbye themselves stateside when Gavin arranged a deal to handle the UK release and distribution. A similar deal was arranged with another American artist, Aaron Schroeder, but Gavin returned to Scotland (Edinburgh this time) to make a charmingly quirky indie-folk sextet called The Amateurs the label’s first ‘proper’ signing. Although the band’s charismatic Hongu Kongu album is nominally catalogue number LET001, it was actually the last of the label’s 2007 offerings to be released due to a few problems with recording and artwork.

The first Letterbox-signed band to release an album on the label was London-based Anglo-American quintet Morning Bride, whose Lea Valley Delta Blues earned Letterbox its first mainstream press. The Word dubbed the band “The best thing to come out of Hackney since the White Stripes recorded Elephant there”; Plan B and Rock ‘n’ Reel were equally enamoured with the record. Gavin soon found himself on BBC Radio 5 Live talking about indie label success stories!

The highly-rated debut album from Glasgow’s California Snow Story followed. CSS (no, not that one) are another ex-Shelflife band, led by former Camera Obscura guitarist/songwriter David Skirving. While mainstream press has surprisingly eluded the record, CSS’ Close to the Ocean has steadily become Letterbox’s top selling release as the result of blog support and word of mouth throughout the indie-pop community. The band’s Suddenly Everything Happens single topped a twee.net poll for Best Single of 2007, beating off such heavyweight challengers as Jens Lekman and the Clientele in the process.

France’s Watoo Watoo was all set to release its second album la fuite elsewhere when disaster struck; their label unexpectedly folded leaving the Bordeaux-based indie-pop duo homeless. David from California Snow Story alerted Gavin to the news and within a couple of weeks the record was released on Letterbox. I haven’t heard the whole album myself (yet) but I can highly recommend the free download-only single Perdu. Comparisons with Stereolab are inevitable due to chanteuse Pascale’s soothing French-language vocals, but the Watoo Watoo sound is jauntier and more pop-based.

Every good indie-pop label needs a classy Swedish act on its roster, and Gavin found his in the beautiful Northern lakeside city of Östersund. I’ve visited the place a few times and I can safely say it’s even more isolated than Whitehaven. Penny Century accidentally deleted Gavin’s first e-mail, mistaking it for spam, but their wires were eventually uncrossed as the Swedes became the newest addition the Letterbox stable. Their accomplished debut Between a Hundred Lies was released in the summer to further acclaim and respectable sales. The band even turned up to play a date in Whitehaven, which must have been an experience for them. Perhaps the most commercial sounding band on the label, Penny Century could well be the one that helps Letterbox break through to a more mainstream audience. I certainly hope so, because both parties certainly deserve that kind of recognition.

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Listen To Letterbox Online:

Penny Century – “Nothing Burns Like Bridges”
Watoo Watoo – “Perdu”
The Amateurs – “Things You Only Know If You Don’t Drive”
Morning Bride – “Stepping Out In Front of Cars”
California Snow Story – “Suddenly Everything Happens”
The Arrogants – “Don’t Be So Cynical”
Aaron Schroeder – “A Movin’ Movin’ Train”

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Please visit http://www.letterboxrecords.com for more information about the label and its artists. CDs can be purchased from the label’s online store or iTunes.

A Question of Sound #1: The Ear-Splitting Return of My Bloody Valentine

Originally published on No Ripcord on 26 July, this is the first edition of my new column for the site, “A Question Of Sound”.

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Whether you like it or not, a lot of people get their music for free these days. Rare tracks, unreleased albums, even entire back catalogues – they’re all readily available at the click of a mouse. It just depends on your ethical standpoint, your level of computer expertise and, perhaps most significantly, the size of your hard drive. But if the perceived worth of recorded music has declined in the last decade, then the stock of live music has surely risen. Even with live video streams and concert DVDs, there’s no experience that comes close to just being there. This is perhaps why the reunion show has become such a big concept in the last five years or so.

As someone who worries far too much about things like artistic legacies, I’ve made a habit of avoiding almost all of the grizzled legends currently blazing the comeback trail; notable exceptions include Dinosaur Jr (definitely worth it) and Janes Addiction (a favour to a friend, and probably not). When the long-awaited live return of My Bloody Valentine was announced in November 2007, however, I found myself overcome with a sense of giddy excitement and anticipation that I haven’t experienced in response to a musical event, be it an album release or a live show, for a very long time. Now, I could happily scribble a 1,000 word hypothesis as to why an MBV comeback felt so right, but I’m assuming you’d sooner hear about the comeback itself. So I’ll try to focus on that without running off on too many tangents…

Having ordered three tickets for the Saturday show at London’s Roundhouse, I proceeded to tell everyone I knew (well, anyone who would be at least marginally interested) the good news. And then I waited. In April one of my friends phoned up to tell me that he wouldn’t be able to attend the London show (a friend’s wedding was his dismal excuse – priorities, eh?). This turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Determined not to miss out, he bought two tickets for the Manchester Apollo show on 29/6/2008 and invited me along. My excitement levels literally doubled, I began counting the days.

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Saturday June 21 – The Roundhouse, London

As we enter the rather attractive amphitheatre of Camden’s Roundhouse, we are greeted by one of the security guards who is enthusiastically handing out earplugs. He has a word of warning for those who decline his offer: “Are you sure? You’ll regret it!” I’m too young to have seen My Bloody Valentine prior to the legendary extended hiatus, but I’ve heard plenty of stories (and rumours) about the blistering noise sections, in particular the cacophonous middle eight-thousand of You Made Me Realise. I love music, I value my hearing – I’ll take a pair of your earplugs please, sir.

After a brief but enjoyable set from Sonic Boom (highlight: a heavenly version of Transparent Radiation) the four original members My Bloody Valentine – who incidentally look pretty much unchanged from the Loveless era publicity shots – take to the stage and launch into a meaty version of Only Shallow. I promptly insert my newly acquired ear plugs and something approaching the song’s vocal melody becomes apparent. And it sounds fantastic.

One of my favourite things about Loveless is the way it seems to possess different sonic qualities at different volumes; in the live setting, with a pair of earplugs, it is possible to have a similar experience, although in the louder sections there is the added bonus of a more physical element. At various intervals tonight I can genuinely feel my thorax vibrating. I can almost visualise the ossicles in my ears whirring away like miniature pneumatic drills, conducting the thunderous noise of the band, those little hammers and anvils beating in time with Colm O’Ciosoig’s powerful, metronomic drumming.

The band manages to get through a surprising number of classic tracks tonight – indeed, they play pretty much everything you’d want them to play: When You Sleep, Sueisfine, (When You Wake) You’re Still In A Dream, Come In Alone, To Hear Knows When, Feed Me With Your Kiss, Nothing Much To Lose, etc.

Nevertheless, the obvious highlights for me – as conventional as this may be – are still Soon, the peerless shimmering dance-shoegaze crossover, and the live signature track, You Made Me Realise. Every great band should have a classic track that frustratingly isn’t on any of its albums; this is My Bloody Valentine’s. It’s Kevin Shields’ best kept secret and tonight, true to form, it is transformed into thirty-minute ear-splitting monster. To say the noise levels during the extended noise section are uncomfortable would be a gross understatement: I try taking my earplugs out for a minute and I can barely believe it. Those ossicles I was talking about are presumably in the process of constructing a picket line as I insert those little foam protectors back into my ear canals. It’s abrasive, but with something to take the edge of the volume levels (which, if you believe everything you read in Internet forums, peaks at around 130dB) it’s an interesting physical experience. Not something you’d want to do every day and, looking around me at some of the contorted, uncomfortable facial expressions, clearly not something you’d want to expose naked eardrums to for any significant length of time.

You Made Me Realise rounds off a memorable set and as I leave the Roundhouse with my ears ringing I feel slightly smug in knowledge that I’ll be returning for a second helping of My Bloody Valentine in eight days time. Did I say slightly smug? Sorry, that should read enormously smug.

London Set List:

Only Shallow; When You Sleep; You Never Should; When You Wake; Cigarette In Your Bed; I Only Said; Come In Alone; Thorn; Nothing Much To Lose; To Here Knows When; Slow; Blown A Wish; Soon; Feed Me With Your Kiss; Sueisfine; You Made Me Realise

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Sunday June 28 – The Apollo, Manchester

Here we are again. A different venue and a different friend to share the experience with, but the same brilliant band. Buoyed by my experience at the Roundhouse, and perhaps influenced by a few days in our nation’s capital, I soon find myself becoming one of those annoyingly arrogant audience members that thinks he knows better than everyone else. “Of course, they’ll start with Only Shallow” I condescendingly tell my friend, seconds before being blown away by a rousing version of I Only Said. In an instant I feel rather foolish.

There aren’t too many other major surprises tonight, although I can’t help but feel I’m watching a technically tighter group of musicians. With the exception of a clunky false start on either When You Sleep or Only Shallow, I forget which one, the songs sound more rehearsed tonight, as you’d expect from a band with a handful of reunion shows under its belt. Perhaps it’s because of my position in relation to the speakers, although more likely it’s because I’m sober this time, but the overall sound quality seems less muddy tonight, too.

I find myself enjoying some of the more unsung tunes like Cigarette in Your Bed, which I couldn’t even remember them playing in London, and the dirge-y Slow (also from the You Made Me Realise EP). Come In Alone and Blown A Wish are also pretty great.

I didn’t see anyone handing out earplugs at the start of the night this time round, and consequently You Made Me Realise manages to claim a few more victims than it did in London: from my vantage point I can see at least one person crying, which isn’t really a surprise. I’m pretty sure there are jet engines out there that kick out less noise than My Bloody Valentine at full tilt. And you wouldn’t put your head next to one of those, would you?

Manchester Set List:

I Only Said; When You Sleep; (When You Wake) You’re Still In A Dream; You Never Should; Cigarette In Your Bed; Come In Alone; Only Shallow; Thorn; Nothing Much To Lose; To Here Knows When; Blown A Wish; Slow;
Soon; Feed Me With Your Kiss; Sueisfine; You Made Me Realise