There are few men like Jamie McDermott. A man of his calibre is seldom found in the 21st century. His affection for cheeky baroque arrangements, doctor outlandish but hypnotising woodland performances and a theatrical charm that belies his context in our often over-starched popstar era marks McDermott as one of a very different breed indeed. As the master of ceremonies to the 10-strong orchestral collective The Irrepressibles, information pills McDermott offers pure carnal delight in a debut that is never once short of imagination, gusto or surprise. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the cabaret.
‘Mirror Mirror’ is a soaring, inquisitive and arresting debut that conjures the ethereal atmosphere of theatre in a swell of tempting arrangements and remarkable rhythmic pace. A chorus of strings rises from each song, perhaps to best effect in opener “My Friend Jo”. As the curtain rises, urgent sharp violins introduce the listener to the ‘crazy bitch’ Jo, the finest of introductions to the irreverent humour and talent of The Irrepressibles. As we slip and slide through the first act of ‘Mirror Mirror’, the fits and starts of strings and guitars are bolstered by McDermott’s unnervingly impressive vocal range. Keen to show he does not merely masquerade in the comic, “In Your Eyes” is typical of the vulnerability and touching emotion which McDermott’s voice projects. For all the showmanship there is no hesitation to allow the matters of the heart to take precedence and in moments of lucidity we are granted a glance through the keyhole guarding such secrets.
But everything is not quite what it seems in the wonderfully animate world of ‘Mirror Mirror’; “Knife Song” purrs with the allure of a lover as flutes flirtatiously tiptoe through the verses but the revelation that, “Jamie, it’s such a shame you disappoint me,” marks a song of personal confusion and searing but very human honesty. More than a voice on a record, more than a character paraded on stage, McDermott is a man who has poured not only his creative energies into The Irrepressibles but his heart and soul. We become intermingled in the melt of his thoughts in ‘Nuclear Skies’ as layers of light keys, wailing strings, intensifying reverberations and angelic calls become an otherworldly whirlwind.
Despite a willingness to expose the raw emotion of the heart, The Irrepressibles show a devilish streak. Never shy to taunt, tease and tempt, McDermott takes on Elvis himself to declare, “take my hand, take my whole life too, because I can’t help what I do to you,” in “Splish! Splash! Sploo!”. Crashing cymbals and scaling plucked violins punctuate a mocking warble to the publicly jilted. A complicated man indeed. Undoubtedly the finest moment of ‘Mirror Mirror’ arrives at the tail end in the form of “In This Shirt”, its beauty compounded by glitchy electronic stutters that chatter like birdsong, organs and the rolling expectancy of the cello. Feeling like fresh sun on your face, the finale is truly worth waiting for as it unravels itself in pure mastery.
McDermott’s exuberant performances dance on the border of disturbing, but an ability to melt between the light and the dark with such mesmerising grace has led to comparisons to Anthony Hegarty, though the heights McDermott’s voice can reach sometimes suggest a male Joanna Newsom, minus the folk. The time for the rise of the Irrepressibles is surely upon us. The somewhat poperatic tendencies undoubtedly catch your attention but the flamboyancy can sometimes seem more like a child starved of affection. The positive side to this is The Irrepressibles’s contagious spirit and exuberance for sticking a tongue out or a lithe finger up to convention. McDermott and his cohorts relish the playful charm of Anvil, a galloping soundtrack to a horseback race across the backdrop of twisted romances. The finesse of the orchestral arrangements and assault on the boundaries of musical genres mark ‘Mirror Mirror’ as an album that deserves to be given your time; not only is it a lot cheaper than a ticket to the theatre, but it offers you so much in return.
There are few men like Jamie McDermott. A man of his calibre is seldom found in the 21st century. His affection for cheeky baroque arrangements, viagra dosage outlandish but hypnotising woodland performances and a theatrical charm that belies his context in our often over-starched popstar era marks McDermott as one of a very different breed indeed. As the master of ceremonies to the 10-strong orchestral collective The Irrepressibles, remedy McDermott offers pure carnal delight in a debut that is never once short of imagination, gusto or surprise. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the cabaret.
‘Mirror Mirror’ is a soaring, inquisitive and arresting debut that conjures the ethereal atmosphere of theatre in a swell of tempting arrangements and remarkable rhythmic pace. A chorus of strings rises from each song, perhaps to best effect in opener “My Friend Jo”. As the curtain rises, urgent sharp violins introduce the listener to the ‘crazy bitch’ Jo, the finest of introductions to the irreverent humour and talent of The Irrepressibles. As we slip and slide through the first act of ‘Mirror Mirror’, the fits and starts of strings and guitars are bolstered by McDermott’s unnervingly impressive vocal range. Keen to show he does not merely masquerade in the comic, “In Your Eyes” is typical of the vulnerability and touching emotion which McDermott’s voice projects. For all the showmanship there is no hesitation to allow the matters of the heart to take precedence and in moments of lucidity we are granted a glance through the keyhole guarding such secrets.
But everything is not quite what it seems in the wonderfully animate world of ‘Mirror Mirror’; “Knife Song” purrs with the allure of a lover as flutes flirtatiously tiptoe through the verses but the revelation that, “Jamie, it’s such a shame you disappoint me,” marks a song of personal confusion and searing but very human honesty. More than a voice on a record, more than a character paraded on stage, McDermott is a man who has poured not only his creative energies into The Irrepressibles but his heart and soul. We become intermingled in the melt of his thoughts in ‘Nuclear Skies’ as layers of light keys, wailing strings, intensifying reverberations and angelic calls become an otherworldly whirlwind.
Despite a willingness to expose the raw emotion of the heart, The Irrepressibles show a devilish streak. Never shy to taunt, tease and tempt, McDermott takes on Elvis himself to declare, “take my hand, take my whole life too, because I can’t help what I do to you,” in “Splish! Splash! Sploo!”. Crashing cymbals and scaling plucked violins punctuate a mocking warble to the publicly jilted. A complicated man indeed. Undoubtedly the finest moment of ‘Mirror Mirror’ arrives at the tail end in the form of “In This Shirt”, its beauty compounded by glitchy electronic stutters that chatter like birdsong, organs and the rolling expectancy of the cello. Feeling like fresh sun on your face, the finale is truly worth waiting for as it unravels itself in pure mastery.
McDermott’s exuberant performances dance on the border of disturbing, but an ability to melt between the light and the dark with such mesmerising grace has led to comparisons to Anthony Hegarty, though the heights McDermott’s voice can reach sometimes suggest a male Joanna Newsom, minus the folk. The time for the rise of the Irrepressibles is surely upon us. The somewhat poperatic tendencies undoubtedly catch your attention but the flamboyancy can sometimes seem more like a child starved of affection. The positive side to this is The Irrepressibles’s contagious spirit and exuberance for sticking a tongue out or a lithe finger up to convention. McDermott and his cohorts relish the playful charm of Anvil, a galloping soundtrack to a horseback race across the backdrop of twisted romances. The finesse of the orchestral arrangements and assault on the boundaries of musical genres mark ‘Mirror Mirror’ as an album that deserves to be given your time; not only is it a lot cheaper than a ticket to the theatre, but it offers you so much in return.
There are few men like Jamie McDermott. A man of his calibre is seldom found in the 21st century. His affection for cheeky baroque arrangements, patient outlandish but hypnotising woodland performances and a theatrical charm that belies his context in our often over-starched popstar era marks McDermott as one of a very different breed indeed. As the master of ceremonies to the 10-strong orchestral collective The Irrepressibles, pills McDermott offers pure carnal delight in a debut that is never once short of imagination, gusto or surprise. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the cabaret.
‘Mirror Mirror’ is a soaring, inquisitive and arresting debut that conjures the ethereal atmosphere of theatre in a swell of tempting arrangements and remarkable rhythmic pace. A chorus of strings rises from each song, perhaps to best effect in opener “My Friend Jo”. As the curtain rises, urgent sharp violins introduce the listener to the ‘crazy bitch’ Jo, the finest of introductions to the irreverent humour and talent of The Irrepressibles. As we slip and slide through the first act of ‘Mirror Mirror’, the fits and starts of strings and guitars are bolstered by McDermott’s unnervingly impressive vocal range. Keen to show he does not merely masquerade in the comic, “In Your Eyes” is typical of the vulnerability and touching emotion which McDermott’s voice projects. For all the showmanship there is no hesitation to allow the matters of the heart to take precedence and in moments of lucidity we are granted a glance through the keyhole guarding such secrets.
But everything is not quite what it seems in the wonderfully animate world of ‘Mirror Mirror’; “Knife Song” purrs with the allure of a lover as flutes flirtatiously tiptoe through the verses but the revelation that, “Jamie, it’s such a shame you disappoint me,” marks a song of personal confusion and searing but very human honesty. More than a voice on a record, more than a character paraded on stage, McDermott is a man who has poured not only his creative energies into The Irrepressibles but his heart and soul. We become intermingled in the melt of his thoughts in ‘Nuclear Skies’ as layers of light keys, wailing strings, intensifying reverberations and angelic calls become an otherworldly whirlwind.
Despite a willingness to expose the raw emotion of the heart, The Irrepressibles show a devilish streak. Never shy to taunt, tease and tempt, McDermott takes on Elvis himself to declare, “take my hand, take my whole life too, because I can’t help what I do to you,” in “Splish! Splash! Sploo!”. Crashing cymbals and scaling plucked violins punctuate a mocking warble to the publicly jilted. A complicated man indeed. Undoubtedly the finest moment of ‘Mirror Mirror’ arrives at the tail end in the form of “In This Shirt”, its beauty compounded by glitchy electronic stutters that chatter like birdsong, organs and the rolling expectancy of the cello. Feeling like fresh sun on your face, the finale is truly worth waiting for as it unravels itself in pure mastery.
McDermott’s exuberant performances dance on the border of disturbing, but an ability to melt between the light and the dark with such mesmerising grace has led to comparisons to Anthony Hegarty, though the heights McDermott’s voice can reach sometimes suggest a male Joanna Newsom, minus the folk. The time for the rise of the Irrepressibles is surely upon us. The somewhat poperatic tendencies undoubtedly catch your attention but the flamboyancy can sometimes seem more like a child starved of affection. The positive side to this is The Irrepressibles’s contagious spirit and exuberance for sticking a tongue out or a lithe finger up to convention. McDermott and his cohorts relish the playful charm of Anvil, a galloping soundtrack to a horseback race across the backdrop of twisted romances. The finesse of the orchestral arrangements and assault on the boundaries of musical genres mark ‘Mirror Mirror’ as an album that deserves to be given your time; not only is it a lot cheaper than a ticket to the theatre, but it offers you so much in return.
There are few men like Jamie McDermott. A man of his calibre is seldom found in the 21st century. His affection for cheeky baroque arrangements, approved outlandish but hypnotising woodland performances and a theatrical charm that belies his context in our often over-starched popstar era marks McDermott as one of a very different breed indeed. As the master of ceremonies to the 10-strong orchestral collective The Irrepressibles, diagnosis McDermott offers pure carnal delight in a debut that is never once short of imagination, gusto or surprise. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the cabaret.
‘Mirror Mirror’ is a soaring, inquisitive and arresting debut that conjures the ethereal atmosphere of theatre in a swell of tempting arrangements and remarkable rhythmic pace. A chorus of strings rises from each song, perhaps to best effect in opener “My Friend Jo”. As the curtain rises, urgent sharp violins introduce the listener to the ‘crazy bitch’ Jo, the finest of introductions to the irreverent humour and talent of The Irrepressibles. As we slip and slide through the first act of ‘Mirror Mirror’, the fits and starts of strings and guitars are bolstered by McDermott’s unnervingly impressive vocal range. Keen to show he does not merely masquerade in the comic, “In Your Eyes” is typical of the vulnerability and touching emotion which McDermott’s voice projects. For all the showmanship there is no hesitation to allow the matters of the heart to take precedence and in moments of lucidity we are granted a glance through the keyhole guarding such secrets.
But everything is not quite what it seems in the wonderfully animate world of ‘Mirror Mirror’; “Knife Song” purrs with the allure of a lover as flutes flirtatiously tiptoe through the verses but the revelation that, “Jamie, it’s such a shame you disappoint me,” marks a song of personal confusion and searing but very human honesty. More than a voice on a record, more than a character paraded on stage, McDermott is a man who has poured not only his creative energies into The Irrepressibles but his heart and soul. We become intermingled in the melt of his thoughts in ‘Nuclear Skies’ as layers of light keys, wailing strings, intensifying reverberations and angelic calls become an otherworldly whirlwind.
Despite a willingness to expose the raw emotion of the heart, The Irrepressibles show a devilish streak. Never shy to taunt, tease and tempt, McDermott takes on Elvis himself to declare, “take my hand, take my whole life too, because I can’t help what I do to you,” in “Splish! Splash! Sploo!”. Crashing cymbals and scaling plucked violins punctuate a mocking warble to the publicly jilted. A complicated man indeed. Undoubtedly the finest moment of ‘Mirror Mirror’ arrives at the tail end in the form of “In This Shirt”, its beauty compounded by glitchy electronic stutters that chatter like birdsong, organs and the rolling expectancy of the cello. Feeling like fresh sun on your face, the finale is truly worth waiting for as it unravels itself in pure mastery.
McDermott’s exuberant performances dance on the border of disturbing, but an ability to melt between the light and the dark with such mesmerising grace has led to comparisons to Anthony Hegarty, though the heights McDermott’s voice can reach sometimes suggest a male Joanna Newsom, minus the folk. The time for the rise of the Irrepressibles is surely upon us. The somewhat poperatic tendencies undoubtedly catch your attention but the flamboyancy can sometimes seem more like a child starved of affection. The positive side to this is The Irrepressibles’s contagious spirit and exuberance for sticking a tongue out or a lithe finger up to convention. McDermott and his cohorts relish the playful charm of Anvil, a galloping soundtrack to a horseback race across the backdrop of twisted romances. The finesse of the orchestral arrangements and assault on the boundaries of musical genres mark ‘Mirror Mirror’ as an album that deserves to be given your time; not only is it a lot cheaper than a ticket to the theatre, but it offers you so much in return.
There are few men like Jamie McDermott. A man of his calibre is seldom found in the 21st century. His affection for cheeky baroque arrangements, viagra approved outlandish but hypnotising woodland performances and a theatrical charm that belies his context in our often over-starched popstar era marks McDermott as one of a very different breed indeed. As the master of ceremonies to the 10-strong orchestral collective The Irrepressibles, viagra McDermott offers pure carnal delight in a debut that is never once short of imagination, gusto or surprise. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the cabaret.
‘Mirror Mirror’ is a soaring, inquisitive and arresting debut that conjures the ethereal atmosphere of theatre in a swell of tempting arrangements and remarkable rhythmic pace. A chorus of strings rises from each song, perhaps to best effect in opener “My Friend Jo”. As the curtain rises, urgent sharp violins introduce the listener to the ‘crazy bitch’ Jo, the finest of introductions to the irreverent humour and talent of The Irrepressibles. As we slip and slide through the first act of ‘Mirror Mirror’, the fits and starts of strings and guitars are bolstered by McDermott’s unnervingly impressive vocal range. Keen to show he does not merely masquerade in the comic, “In Your Eyes” is typical of the vulnerability and touching emotion which McDermott’s voice projects. For all the showmanship there is no hesitation to allow the matters of the heart to take precedence and in moments of lucidity we are granted a glance through the keyhole guarding such secrets.
But everything is not quite what it seems in the wonderfully animate world of ‘Mirror Mirror’; “Knife Song” purrs with the allure of a lover as flutes flirtatiously tiptoe through the verses but the revelation that, “Jamie, it’s such a shame you disappoint me,” marks a song of personal confusion and searing but very human honesty. More than a voice on a record, more than a character paraded on stage, McDermott is a man who has poured not only his creative energies into The Irrepressibles but his heart and soul. We become intermingled in the melt of his thoughts in ‘Nuclear Skies’ as layers of light keys, wailing strings, intensifying reverberations and angelic calls become an otherworldly whirlwind.
Despite a willingness to expose the raw emotion of the heart, The Irrepressibles show a devilish streak. Never shy to taunt, tease and tempt, McDermott takes on Elvis himself to declare, “take my hand, take my whole life too, because I can’t help what I do to you,” in “Splish! Splash! Sploo!”. Crashing cymbals and scaling plucked violins punctuate a mocking warble to the publicly jilted. A complicated man indeed. Undoubtedly the finest moment of ‘Mirror Mirror’ arrives at the tail end in the form of “In This Shirt”, its beauty compounded by glitchy electronic stutters that chatter like birdsong, organs and the rolling expectancy of the cello. Feeling like fresh sun on your face, the finale is truly worth waiting for as it unravels itself in pure mastery.
McDermott’s exuberant performances dance on the border of disturbing, but an ability to melt between the light and the dark with such mesmerising grace has led to comparisons to Anthony Hegarty, though the heights McDermott’s voice can reach sometimes suggest a male Joanna Newsom, minus the folk. The time for the rise of the Irrepressibles is surely upon us. The somewhat poperatic tendencies undoubtedly catch your attention but the flamboyancy can sometimes seem more like a child starved of affection. The positive side to this is The Irrepressibles’s contagious spirit and exuberance for sticking a tongue out or a lithe finger up to convention. McDermott and his cohorts relish the playful charm of Anvil, a galloping soundtrack to a horseback race across the backdrop of twisted romances. The finesse of the orchestral arrangements and assault on the boundaries of musical genres mark ‘Mirror Mirror’ as an album that deserves to be given your time; not only is it a lot cheaper than a ticket to the theatre, but it offers you so much in return.
There are few men like Jamie McDermott. A man of his calibre is seldom found in the 21st century. His affection for cheeky baroque arrangements, information pills outlandish but hypnotising woodland performances and a theatrical charm that belies his context in our often over-starched popstar era marks McDermott as one of a very different breed indeed. As the master of ceremonies to the 10-strong orchestral collective The Irrepressibles, viagra 100mg McDermott offers pure carnal delight in a debut that is never once short of imagination, viagra sale gusto or surprise. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the cabaret.
‘Mirror Mirror’ is a soaring, inquisitive and arresting debut that conjures the ethereal atmosphere of theatre in a swell of tempting arrangements and remarkable rhythmic pace. A chorus of strings rises from each song, perhaps to best effect in opener “My Friend Jo”. As the curtain rises, urgent sharp violins introduce the listener to the ‘crazy bitch’ Jo, the finest of introductions to the irreverent humour and talent of The Irrepressibles. As we slip and slide through the first act of ‘Mirror Mirror’, the fits and starts of strings and guitars are bolstered by McDermott’s unnervingly impressive vocal range. Keen to show he does not merely masquerade in the comic, “In Your Eyes” is typical of the vulnerability and touching emotion which McDermott’s voice projects. For all the showmanship there is no hesitation to allow the matters of the heart to take precedence and in moments of lucidity we are granted a glance through the keyhole guarding such secrets.
But everything is not quite what it seems in the wonderfully animate world of ‘Mirror Mirror’; “Knife Song” purrs with the allure of a lover as flutes flirtatiously tiptoe through the verses but the revelation that, “Jamie, it’s such a shame you disappoint me,” marks a song of personal confusion and searing but very human honesty. More than a voice on a record, more than a character paraded on stage, McDermott is a man who has poured not only his creative energies into The Irrepressibles but his heart and soul. We become intermingled in the melt of his thoughts in ‘Nuclear Skies’ as layers of light keys, wailing strings, intensifying reverberations and angelic calls become an otherworldly whirlwind.
Despite a willingness to expose the raw emotion of the heart, The Irrepressibles show a devilish streak. Never shy to taunt, tease and tempt, McDermott takes on Elvis himself to declare, “take my hand, take my whole life too, because I can’t help what I do to you,” in “Splish! Splash! Sploo!”. Crashing cymbals and scaling plucked violins punctuate a mocking warble to the publicly jilted. A complicated man indeed. Undoubtedly the finest moment of ‘Mirror Mirror’ arrives at the tail end in the form of “In This Shirt”, its beauty compounded by glitchy electronic stutters that chatter like birdsong, organs and the rolling expectancy of the cello. Feeling like fresh sun on your face, the finale is truly worth waiting for as it unravels itself in pure mastery.
McDermott’s exuberant performances dance on the border of disturbing, but an ability to melt between the light and the dark with such mesmerising grace has led to comparisons to Anthony Hegarty, though the heights McDermott’s voice can reach sometimes suggest a male Joanna Newsom, minus the folk. The time for the rise of the Irrepressibles is surely upon us. The somewhat poperatic tendencies undoubtedly catch your attention but the flamboyancy can sometimes seem more like a child starved of affection. The positive side to this is The Irrepressibles’s contagious spirit and exuberance for sticking a tongue out or a lithe finger up to convention. McDermott and his cohorts relish the playful charm of Anvil, a galloping soundtrack to a horseback race across the backdrop of twisted romances. The finesse of the orchestral arrangements and assault on the boundaries of musical genres mark ‘Mirror Mirror’ as an album that deserves to be given your time; not only is it a lot cheaper than a ticket to the theatre, but it offers you so much in return.
Being signed to Mogwai’s label certainly sends out indicators to what’s in store. Much in the same way that Rock Action’s inceptors have long become a hardy perennial of having a very particular sound over forking down any new roads, viagra dosage the new album from Glasgow based 4 piece Errors doesn’t take any big risks or curveballs. Two years on from their debut It’s Not Something But It Is Like Whatever, we have more of the same sharp, clean and medically precise electro rock – yet, this is no bad thing.
What they have learnt is a honing in of their craft, they’ve locked it tight, made it solid. Hermetically sealed almost. Admirable though it was, their debut had a feel of studiousnous, of meticulous “rock school” perfectionism that left the end product somewhat cold. Here, much of what flawed their debut works to their advantage.
Errors love clean sounds, precisions, crispness and angles. This is music that could only ever be made after someone had already made Tortoise: that Chicago band born out of an intense one night stand between a Hardcore that can no longer suppress its futuristic inclinations, and its old nemesis musicality, itself tired of the dullness of its own knowledge.
Errors are direct descendents of this spiky yet somehow eggheaded family tree. Cousions of Pivot, nephews of Kieren Hebden and Tyondai Braxton and grandchildren of Mogwai, great grandchildren of Slint, somehow along the way blood ties with Mike Patton and Richard James remain strong.
Although, perhaps just as their great forebeares Tortoise did one hot night, Errors now have a massively aroused horn, a swollen crush on records from Manchester with serial numbers like FAC451, they are eyeing up cocktails at the bar, cocktails with neon tinged 80s names drank to make one feel like your on a yaught. They will go home tonight lusting after these sexy items as they spoon their mathematically precise post rock partners. A few years ago M83 transformed their dreamy layers of synth into something more sparkly, in a similar, if more visible way, here Errors begin a slow, subtle shift.
The 7” A Rumour In Africa is sunny, optimistic and almost sounds like a festival band, clean shiny guitars lay the signature down weaving in and out of the crispy, quantised beats. The stand out comes third in, Supertribe is a beautifully rendered collision of old and new – early nineties clean synths and drum patterns like acid era Factory records mechanically but sensitively rebooted into a post – emo, post – electro, post – post rock world.
This is not a groundbreaking record. It does not move mountains. Yet it is the satisfying site of seeing a previously uptight friend fall in love. In a small way, Errors have found their own mutation of post rock.
Being signed to Mogwai’s label certainly sends out indicators to what’s in store. Much in the same way that Rock Action’s inceptors have long become a hardy perennial of having a very particular sound over forking down any new roads, physician the new album from Glasgow based 4 piece Errors doesn’t take any big risks or curveballs. Two years on from their debut It’s Not Something But It Is Like Whatever, more about we have more of the same sharp, clean and medically precise electro rock – yet, this is no bad thing.
What they have learnt is a honing in of their craft, they’ve locked it tight, made it solid. Hermetically sealed almost. Admirable though it was, their debut had a feel of studiousnous, of meticulous “rock school” perfectionism that left the end product somewhat cold. Here, much of what flawed their debut works to their advantage.
Errors love clean sounds, precisions, crispness and angles. This is music that could only ever be made after someone had already made Tortoise: that Chicago band born out of an intense one night stand between a Hardcore that can no longer suppress its futuristic inclinations, and its old nemesis musicality, itself tired of the dullness of its own knowledge.
Errors are direct descendents of this spiky yet somehow eggheaded family tree. Cousions of Pivot, nephews of Kieren Hebden and Tyondai Braxton and grandchildren of Mogwai, great grandchildren of Slint, somehow along the way blood ties with Mike Patton and Richard James remain strong.
Although, perhaps just as their great forebeares Tortoise did one hot night, Errors now have a massively aroused horn, a swollen crush on records from Manchester with serial numbers like FAC451, they are eyeing up cocktails at the bar, cocktails with neon tinged 80s names drank to make one feel like your on a yaught. They will go home tonight lusting after these sexy items as they spoon their mathematically precise post rock partners. A few years ago M83 transformed their dreamy layers of synth into something more sparkly, in a similar, if more visible way, here Errors begin a slow, subtle shift.
The 7” A Rumour In Africa is sunny, optimistic and almost sounds like a festival band, clean shiny guitars lay the signature down weaving in and out of the crispy, quantised beats. The stand out comes third in, Supertribe is a beautifully rendered collision of old and new – early nineties clean synths and drum patterns like acid era Factory records mechanically but sensitively rebooted into a post – emo, post – electro, post – post rock world.
This is not a groundbreaking record. It does not move mountains. Yet it is the satisfying site of seeing a previously uptight friend fall in love. In a small way, Errors have found their own mutation of post rock.
There are few men like Jamie McDermott. A man of his calibre is seldom found in the 21st century. His affection for cheeky baroque arrangements, drugs outlandish but hypnotising woodland performances and a theatrical charm that belies his context in our often over-starched popstar era marks McDermott as one of a very different breed indeed. As the master of ceremonies to the 10-strong orchestral collective The Irrepressibles, cheap McDermott offers pure carnal delight in a debut that is never once short of imagination, gusto or surprise. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the cabaret.
‘Mirror Mirror’ is a soaring, inquisitive and arresting debut that conjures the ethereal atmosphere of theatre in a swell of tempting arrangements and remarkable rhythmic pace. A chorus of strings rises from each song, perhaps to best effect in opener “My Friend Jo”. As the curtain rises, urgent sharp violins introduce the listener to the ‘crazy bitch’ Jo, the finest of introductions to the irreverent humour and talent of The Irrepressibles. As we slip and slide through the first act of ‘Mirror Mirror’, the fits and starts of strings and guitars are bolstered by McDermott’s unnervingly impressive vocal range. Keen to show he does not merely masquerade in the comic, “In Your Eyes” is typical of the vulnerability and touching emotion which McDermott’s voice projects. For all the showmanship there is no hesitation to allow the matters of the heart to take precedence and in moments of lucidity we are granted a glance through the keyhole guarding such secrets.
But everything is not quite what it seems in the wonderfully animate world of ‘Mirror Mirror’; “Knife Song” purrs with the allure of a lover as flutes flirtatiously tiptoe through the verses but the revelation that, “Jamie, it’s such a shame you disappoint me,” marks a song of personal confusion and searing but very human honesty. More than a voice on a record, more than a character paraded on stage, McDermott is a man who has poured not only his creative energies into The Irrepressibles but his heart and soul. We become intermingled in the melt of his thoughts in ‘Nuclear Skies’ as layers of light keys, wailing strings, intensifying reverberations and angelic calls become an otherworldly whirlwind.
Despite a willingness to expose the raw emotion of the heart, The Irrepressibles show a devilish streak. Never shy to taunt, tease and tempt, McDermott takes on Elvis himself to declare, “take my hand, take my whole life too, because I can’t help what I do to you,” in “Splish! Splash! Sploo!”. Crashing cymbals and scaling plucked violins punctuate a mocking warble to the publicly jilted. A complicated man indeed. Undoubtedly the finest moment of ‘Mirror Mirror’ arrives at the tail end in the form of “In This Shirt”, its beauty compounded by glitchy electronic stutters that chatter like birdsong, organs and the rolling expectancy of the cello. Feeling like fresh sun on your face, the finale is truly worth waiting for as it unravels itself in pure mastery.
McDermott’s exuberant performances dance on the border of disturbing, but an ability to melt between the light and the dark with such mesmerising grace has led to comparisons to Anthony Hegarty, though the heights McDermott’s voice can reach sometimes suggest a male Joanna Newsom, minus the folk. The time for the rise of the Irrepressibles is surely upon us. The somewhat poperatic tendencies undoubtedly catch your attention but the flamboyancy can sometimes seem more like a child starved of affection. The positive side to this is The Irrepressibles’s contagious spirit and exuberance for sticking a tongue out or a lithe finger up to convention. McDermott and his cohorts relish the playful charm of Anvil, a galloping soundtrack to a horseback race across the backdrop of twisted romances. The finesse of the orchestral arrangements and assault on the boundaries of musical genres mark ‘Mirror Mirror’ as an album that deserves to be given your time; not only is it a lot cheaper than a ticket to the theatre, but it offers you so much in return.
There are few men like Jamie McDermott. A man of his calibre is seldom found in the 21st century. His affection for cheeky baroque arrangements, abortion outlandish but hypnotising woodland performances and a theatrical charm that belies his context in our often over-starched popstar era marks McDermott as one of a very different breed indeed. As the master of ceremonies to the 10-strong orchestral collective The Irrepressibles, McDermott offers pure carnal delight in a debut that is never once short of imagination, gusto or surprise. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the cabaret.
‘Mirror Mirror’ is a soaring, inquisitive and arresting debut that conjures the ethereal atmosphere of theatre in a swell of tempting arrangements and remarkable rhythmic pace. A chorus of strings rises from each song, perhaps to best effect in opener “My Friend Jo”. As the curtain rises, urgent sharp violins introduce the listener to the ‘crazy bitch’ Jo, the finest of introductions to the irreverent humour and talent of The Irrepressibles. As we slip and slide through the first act of ‘Mirror Mirror’, the fits and starts of strings and guitars are bolstered by McDermott’s unnervingly impressive vocal range. Keen to show he does not merely masquerade in the comic, “In Your Eyes” is typical of the vulnerability and touching emotion which McDermott’s voice projects. For all the showmanship there is no hesitation to allow the matters of the heart to take precedence and in moments of lucidity we are granted a glance through the keyhole guarding such secrets.
But everything is not quite what it seems in the wonderfully animate world of ‘Mirror Mirror’; “Knife Song” purrs with the allure of a lover as flutes flirtatiously tiptoe through the verses but the revelation that, “Jamie, it’s such a shame you disappoint me,” marks a song of personal confusion and searing but very human honesty. More than a voice on a record, more than a character paraded on stage, McDermott is a man who has poured not only his creative energies into The Irrepressibles but his heart and soul. We become intermingled in the melt of his thoughts in ‘Nuclear Skies’ as layers of light keys, wailing strings, intensifying reverberations and angelic calls become an otherworldly whirlwind.
Despite a willingness to expose the raw emotion of the heart, The Irrepressibles show a devilish streak. Never shy to taunt, tease and tempt, McDermott takes on Elvis himself to declare, “take my hand, take my whole life too, because I can’t help what I do to you,” in “Splish! Splash! Sploo!”. Crashing cymbals and scaling plucked violins punctuate a mocking warble to the publicly jilted. A complicated man indeed. Undoubtedly the finest moment of ‘Mirror Mirror’ arrives at the tail end in the form of “In This Shirt”, its beauty compounded by glitchy electronic stutters that chatter like birdsong, organs and the rolling expectancy of the cello. Feeling like fresh sun on your face, the finale is truly worth waiting for as it unravels itself in pure mastery.
McDermott’s exuberant performances dance on the border of disturbing, but an ability to melt between the light and the dark with such mesmerising grace has led to comparisons to Anthony Hegarty, though the heights McDermott’s voice can reach sometimes suggest a male Joanna Newsom, minus the folk. The time for the rise of the Irrepressibles is surely upon us. The somewhat poperatic tendencies undoubtedly catch your attention but the flamboyancy can sometimes seem more like a child starved of affection. The positive side to this is The Irrepressibles’s contagious spirit and exuberance for sticking a tongue out or a lithe finger up to convention. McDermott and his cohorts relish the playful charm of Anvil, a galloping soundtrack to a horseback race across the backdrop of twisted romances. The finesse of the orchestral arrangements and assault on the boundaries of musical genres mark ‘Mirror Mirror’ as an album that deserves to be given your time; not only is it a lot cheaper than a ticket to the theatre, but it offers you so much in return.
Illustration courtesy of Harry Williams
Yeasayer kicked off their show at the very hot and sweaty Heaven with ‘Odd Blood”s opener track “The Children”. This seemed like a bit of an odd choice to start with, more about considering that it’s the least poppy track of an album that’s an homage to beautifully executed pop. It also seemed like the audience were decidedly underwhelmed to begin with, nurse and weren’t really sure what to do with a less well known song. In fact I’m sure half of them were there only for the purposes of hearing “Ambling Alp” and going home.
In a strange way the sinister distorted vocals of “The Children” set the scene for them to launch into the more upbeat songs from ‘Odd Blood’, information pills and things only improved from there on out. Their set was heavily focused on newer songs, and high points of the night included “Strange Reunions”, “Mondegreen”, “Love Me Girl”, “Ambling Alp”, “I Remember” and “ONE”. By the time they had got to “ONE” the crowd seemed to know what was going on, and had generated some enthusiasm for them at last. To help matters, Yeasayer were accompanied on stage by some trippy flashing light-boxes, which resonated pretty much perfectly with their own somewhat trippy hippy sound.
Photo courtesy of Rachel Lipsitz
I was a little concerned, having listened to ‘Odd Blood’ so much, that the live vocals would be a let down. The singing on the album sounds, at times, as if it’s ventured into the dreaded realm of autotune. However what I discovered is that in amongst all the weird noises and bird calls, there are actually three very talented singers playing off each other. Keating, Tuton and Wilder are practically seamless in their live performance. All of them have a capacity to sing far above the pitch of most normal human men, but it works for them, and it’s actually pretty impressive to witness. Keating really stole the show though. He managed to maintain what might normally be a comical level of Bee Gee-esque crooning without his voice breaking, cracking or dropping notes. In addition to the man being an amazing singer, he was inventive with his voice, throwing in snarls, shouts, and all kinds of bizarre vocal noises which he still managed to blend into the song. Not only that but for a skinny white boy in a suit, he had some some serious rhythm, and could have definitely taught the lacklustre crowd how to throw a shape or two.
The sound of ‘Odd Blood’ was replicated in the best way possible. The tracks obviously didn’t sound identical to the album, and they weren’t always easy to identify at the start, but hearing it live made it far easier to appreciate each individual musician’s contribution. It’s fair to say that the few older songs Yeasayer played sounded smoother to the ear, especially when set aside ‘Odd Blood”s more choppy sound. They also seemed to generate more enthusiasm from the onlookers as well. When they came back for their encore and played Sunrise, it was probably the best song of the night. Although I love ‘Odd Blood”s pop credentials, Sunrise has a sound all unto itself.
The charm of Yeasayer is how many bits there are to it. They’re not content with the standard instruments, they have to throw in extra singers, extra sound effects, and bizarre noises that I don’t even know how to begin to identify. Having heard much of Odd Blood live, all I wanted to do was go home and listen to it again, and that to me seems like the best indication of a night well spent.
Categories ,gig, ,heaven, ,live, ,Odd Blood, ,review, ,Yeasayer
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