The CLUAS Archive: 1998 - 2011

Entries for 'Niamh Madden'

28

Midnight Juggernauts (live in Crawdaddy, Dublin)

Review Snapshot: Midnight Juggernauts shocked the crowd's systems with overwhelming spacey sounds that were smothered with starry synth and disco beats. In short, amazing. But support group Late of The Pier upstaged them: their flamboyant, dramatic dancing set the night up for more than just yer usual gig...

The Cluas Verdict? 9 out of 10

Midnight JuggernautsFull Review:
When you wake up with a creak in your neck from dancing, you know that last night's gig was good. The evening began with a small boy at the foot of the stage, dressed in what can only be described as a batwinged jacket fashioned out of golden tinfoil. The boy (okay, he may have been about nineteen...) approached my friend LJ, announced 'I have a maraca', shook said maraca, and then jumped onto the stage like some kind of wonderboy athlete on stilts. It was then that I realised the boy (dare I say, young lad?) was part of the act - he started playing one of the four synths onstage and shook his entire body around like an electrified puppet. This four piece band, Late of the Pier, made my night. Yes, I judged them. Yes, they looked like they'd stepped straight off a Klaxons Costume Night. But, yes, they blew the crowd away and stole the show.  

With a set that included tracks such as 'Focker', 'SPACE', 'Random' and 'Heartbeat', the titles can only begin to describe the energetic space tunes they knocked out. What was it? Rainbow music on red bull? Psychedelic merry-go-round tunes? It was indefinable, but the combination of a singer in ridiculously tight white jeans dedicating a track to the mythical 'black pig of Dublin'; a bass player with big lips alternating between synth, guitar-playing and amateur dramatics; and a tiny, crazy puppet who encouraged the crowd to 'hit the person next to you' seemed to really float my boat. The finale was the best - 'this is the part where we shake your hands' puppet boy said. And the band exited the stage from the front, shaking everyone's hands as they left the venue the way the punters came in. Brilliant! Energising! Exhausting!

After all the dancing and jumping of the first act, by the time Midnight Juggernauts came on I was almost feeling the creak. Almost. The Juggernauts put on an excellent show, building up their starry sounds with distortion and synth. The drummer was the real star; he reminded me of Animal from Sesame Street with a fuzzy face and head that bobbed up and down continuously. For anyone who has never heard the Juggernauts, just think of Justice, Air and Daft Punk, and then mix in three lads performing the tracks live, and you've got a good idea of the kind of sounds they made. Unfortunately, lead vocalist Vincent didn't have his voice as up to scratch as in their recordings.

For 'So Many Frequencies' a multicoloured xylophone emerged and the drummer tinkled away on it. However, the best tune had to have been 'Tombstone', where guitarist Andy took the synth and vocoder, and the drummer stood up on his kit - the band rocked the entire audience with the wall of sound. The crowd's favourite was 'Into the Galaxy' (the telling sign was getting pushed towards the stage), which had everyone throwing their hands up, dancing like crazy, and the band loved it. The drummer later poured a bottle of water over the crowd, who at this stage were sweating out unusual scents of ketchup (hope that wasn't me...). For the finale, '45 and Rising', the drummer took up his snare drum, hopped off the stage and placed it right in the middle of the crowd. He gave his sticks to a couple of guys, one of whom really played along professionally to the track. Before the end, the hard-working gothic roadie came back to reclaim the drum, and when it went back onstage the band finished off the night with climactic distortion and fuzzy amp noise.

After the gig, the Bang Gang DJs kept the tunes going in Tripod until late into the night. Both bands were there too, dancing away, and chatting to fans. This was, by far, one of the most surprisingly brilliant gigs I have been to. I think the creaky neck was worth it.

Niamh Madden


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22

Broken Social Scene (live in Vicar Street)

Review Snapshot: Broken Social Scene played a long set at over two hours - the result was euphoric and full, but there was a bit of a lull for a couple of tracks. There was also the issue of the small man in front of me, whose Guinness farts threatened to ruin the overall sensory experience. 

The Cluas Verdict? 7.5 out of 10

Full Review:
Broken Social SceneI'm 5'4". At some venues I end up standing tiptoed to get a glimpse of a head-banging blurred face onstage. The result? Painful soles and a poor visual experience. At Vicar Street though, no matter where a 5'4" girl stands, she still manages to be able to see everyone on stage. The Broken Social Scene gig was my second at Vicar St. and the venue is proving to be kind on the ears and eyes - I had a perfect view of the full band.

The night began with Charles Spearin’s Happiness Project - a quirky, fun introduction to Broken Social Scene. Charles played interviews that he had recorded with his neighbours, focussing first on the tones of the voices played back unaccompanied. After he played a section of an interview, the saxophone would mimic the notes of the voices - the idea then escalated into a guitar, voice and sax loop that became melodic and turned into something that really made me aware of the tones we use while speaking. Charles' experiment with sound was especially moving when he created a piece using the voice of a deaf woman who'd had a microchip inserted into her brain so that she could finally speak and hear through vibrations in her body: 'All of a sudden I felt my body moving the sound.'

When Broken Social Scene came on (Charles included), Kevin Drew opened to a packed crowd, telling us we were 'such a lovely fuckin' audience!'  He kept up the positive audience affirmations all night, and said that Dublin was his favourite place to play. The gig kicked off on a chilled out, downtempo vibe. What I love about Broken Social Scene's live performance is the concentration involved in playing - there's not much jumping around onstage - they have the airs and graces of an orchestra, particularly the brass. The musicality of the group as a team comes across; instrument switching happens frequently, effortlessly and adds to the performance.

One of the highlights of the gig was the second track, '7/4 (Shoreline).' You really got the full, all-encomapassing sound of the band, who played it with verve and high energy. Amy Millan's vocals were a bit quiet, but she shook her hair around and gave as much as the rest of them. For any fans of Broken Social Scene Presents...Kevin Drew, the group played several tracks from the 'Spirit If...' album, including the explosive, tingly 'Farewell to the Pressure Kids.'

Kevin Drew also played a couple of new songs, like 'Churches under the Stairs' - you could tell he was in jovial form, and well up for getting the audience involved. We were encouraged to scream, clap and sing. The whole performance felt natural, yet you could tell that it was the result of lots of practise. Broken Social Scene prove that image doesn't mean much when it comes to real music and making an impact on an audience.

One of the highlights was Kevin's solo version of 'Lover's Spit.' We were asked to hush while Kevin sang with just his keyboard as accompaniment. Towards the end, he laughed as his voice started to fade - and got nothing but praise from the audience. 'Anthems for a Seventeen Year Old Girl' with Amy's soft singing blew us away - it was at that stage unfortunately that the man in front of me began letting the unique smell of methane waft from his butt towards my face. Not pleasant of course, but I can hardly take points away from the band for that.

The length of the set meant that at times there was a slight lull or lack; it's not something I can describe accurately, but the momentum seemed to fade at times. The finale picked up the pace again though with the striking brass on 'It's All Gonna Break' - a triumphant ending to a great night out with Kevin and the Scene.

Niamh Madden


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14

A review of the album Dog House Music by Seasick Steve

Seasick Steve Dog House MusicReview Snapshot: The roughly recorded Dog House Music is a refreshing change from contemporary studio production. Its raw sounds are soaked in mud, sweat and clothed in hobo lyrics that grip you tightly with their simplicity. 

The Cluas Verdict? 8 out of 10

Full Review:
There's something cuddly about Seasick Steve.

Complete with fluffy white beard, baseball cap and worn dungarees, Seasick could easily be Santa disguised as a hobo. The lyrics on his first solo album, Dog House Music, betray Seasick's rough wandering lifestyle though - one spent living in over fifty houses worldwide as well as on the streets, beating out blues on his personalised guitar, the 'Three Stringed Tranz Wonder.'

The stomping, rootsy simplicity of Seasick Steve has attracted attention across a variety of media. There has not been a more passionate blues act to recently be covered in magazines, most of them generally associated with rock or indie. Seasick won the MOJO Award for Best Breakthrough Artist, has been covered in Hot Press and NME, and also appeared on RTE's Other Voices.

Dog House Music is a sliding, bustling blues affair with tracks that are raw, rough and caked in mud. Each song is ragged around the edges, from the howling and growling in 'Dog House Boogie' to the lazy drawling guitar on 'Shirley Lou.' The crude production on the album as well as its simple artwork reflect Seasick's hobo lifestyle.

The best thing about the album is that it captures the kind of live, street setting you only get in summertime with a busker and his miniature amp. Seasick combines his singing with chatting, mumbling, jamming, tapping and strumming. The first track 'Yellow Dog' hits you with deep, penetrating riffs and lasts just sixty seconds long.  Just before the second track there's a short sniff and then we hear Seasick's amp being plugged in. The harsh rawness of the album, including coughs, laughs, cigarettes being lit, phone-calls and tributes, really brings you in tune with Seasick's life as a bluesman and a hobo.

His lyrics are often autobiographical and run on from the spoken stories that are dotted throughout the album:  'All my life I been in the dog house... that's just the way the dice rolls' (Dog House Boogie).

Though some of Seasick's tracks contain the self-pitying, sentimental element that is usually associated with blues, he manages to bring us closer to him with a touch of light humour and irony. The real stand-out track for me is 'Cut My Wings', played on a customised three string guitar that Seasick calls 'The Three Stringed Tranz Wonder.' Seasick got a positive response to his performance of this on the Jools Holland Show. Customised instruments are a quirk of his - on 'Save Me' he plays what he calls a 'One String Diddly Bo,' which sounds like a bell being bounced on a trampoline.

This album made me wish I was sitting on a rocking chair, wrinkling my brow in the scorching heat, listening to some crickets singing and chewing on a long bit of straw. Seasick is an honest guitarist, storyteller and songwriter whose simple truths resonate from beginning to end in Dog House Music.

Niamh Madden

 To buy a new or (very reasonably priced) 2nd hand copy of this album on Amazon just click here.


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02

A review of the album 'Antidotes' by Foals

Foals - AntidotesReview Snapshot: With sweeping orchestral sounds and muted harmonics reminiscent of Battles, Foals deploy sombre effects blistering into full blown melody meat feasts. What a shame they can't sing.

The Cluas Verdict? 6.5 out of 10

Full Review:
I am a victim of the hype machine. It just sucks me in. Like the TV programme Skins, with its false promise of entertainment, and its artificially crafted 'indie' image. Yet at times it grips me, despite how much I loathe Skins, the NME and the all-style-no-substance bands they promote. This time however both TV programme and magazine have tapped into a band that is both stylish and talented - Foals.

Foals' debut album 'Antidotes' belts out climactic track after track of perky harmonic melodies combined with dark ruddy distortion; a sound that I'm guessing must be heard live to absorb the intensity of the crescendos.

The Oxford indie band dubs its album 'psychedelic pop.' I disagree. The effect sounds more like the math rock of Mogwai or 65 Days of Static, speeded up and dipped into the syncopated harmonic sherbet of Battles. However their repetitive lyrics and schoolboyish shouting makes you wonder- what would the album be like if they didn't sing? Because really, they can't. Sing, that is. Then you realise that without lyrics the album would be a top post-rock dance affair filled to the gills with beautiful bell tones, sustained brassy notes, rough muted chords and nerdishly perfect effects.

The album begins with its best track, 'The French Open'. Discordant harmonies and a brass intro that feels like a funeral backing track (without the bagpipes) leads into wayward smatterings of guitar riffs and builds up to a jittery, pulsing force against an orchestral cocktail of harmonies and confusion.

The band's single 'Cassius' stands out on the album too, but the voices on this track are too much to the foreground - the music speaks for itself; it doesn't need lyrics to speak for it too. Danceable and loveable, 'Cassius' develops in places towards dark and haunting scratchy guitars and a build-up on the drums. It pretends to be all sweetness and light but then begins to evoke more of an ironic tone, petering out with an afterthought of improvised brass.

Remember that haunting remix of Radiohead's 'Morning Bell'? Foals' next single for release, 'Red Socks Pugie', begins with similarly eerie computerised effects that filter into twisting terrifying noises, working their way into your ears, filling up your soul with sound.

The echoing voices on 'Electric Bloom' sound too stilted and grit against the skull with a kind of football style chant until the words become too much and you find yourself wishing the track could just stand alone without the band's harsh voices booming over it.

'Heavy Water' drags out its drums against harmonic scales that mimic the pitter-patter of rain, descending into a stormy heavy tune that feels like a cold November evening. Another stand out track is 'Big Big Love,' whose percussion intro sounds suspiciously similar to 'Race:In' by Battles.

The entire album filters smoothly from track to track, each one building upon the instruments that have gone before, but towards the end the echoey and shouting voices are just a bit too much to handle.

Foals' influences are very obvious, with sprays of distortion and over-used harmonics but their nerd effects and soft hints of ska stamp some originality on the album. Foals have a while to go to develop their own true sound.

And hopefully, on their next album, they'll learn to keep the vocals down.

Niamh Madden

 To buy a new or (very reasonably priced) 2nd hand copy of this album on Amazon just click here.


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23

A review of the album "Let Me Introduce My Friends" by I'm From Barcelona

Im From Barcelona Let Me Introduce My FriendsReview Snapshot: Let me introduce bubble indie-pop at its finest, complete with kazoos and treehouses. Though the lyrics of this album (originally released in 2006) may be quite cringeworthy at times, the Swedish happy vibes make this a vibrant album to dance around the bedroom to.

The Cluas Verdict? 7 out of 10

Full Review:
Remember the time when you would spend a full day eating tubes of Frosties, packets of Meanies, bags and bags of ten penny-sweets and Woppa Bars until your tongue turned red? Well, now imagine you had gathered up a group of your hyper sugar-happy mates and decided to make an album: the result would be very close to the colourful, huggy, snuggly, bubble-gum indiepop album "Let Me Introduce My Friends," by I'm From Barcelona.

Don't be fooled – this band is not in the least bit Spanish (and would sound silly being Spanish anyway, with member names like Frida Öhnell and Cornelia Norgren). Instead, their name is an ode to Fawlty Towers' Manuel, who claimed to be from Barcelona.

The 29-strong Swedish group mixes and mashes banjos with kazoos and trumpets lending an oomph to the general frolics provided by their debut album. It's not often that making an album with your friends works, but lead singer Emanuel Lundgren proves that a few happy-go-lucky songs about treehouses, chicken pox, and stamp-collecting can enthuse his Swedish mates so much that they go and do harmonies and fluffy 'oohs' and 'aahs.'

Why would you not want to spend your day swinging your hips and jumping about on a bed of lollipops and whipped cream, singing lyrics like "Feeling like a tape recorder / stuck between rewind and forward"; "I have built a treehouse / Nobody can see us / it's a you and me house"; and "Damn! Oversleeping again / Damn! I can't believe I did it once again"?

While the album can be too childish (aka Europop) at times, it does bring out wee fairy-like thoughts from within your regular serious Radio head, and brings you back to those sweets-filled days.

Niamh Madden


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Nuggets from our archive

2003 - Witnness 2003, a comprehensive review by Brian Kelly of the 2 days of what transpired to be the last ever Witnness festival (in 2004 it was rebranded as Oxegen when Heineken stepped into the sponsor shoes).