Black coffee, followed by a heaped tablespoon of raisins, followed by a load of seedless green grapes, followed by a glass of orange juice - all consumed in quick succession - makes your mouth-insides taste like garlic.

Fact.

Cochlea-scything; Coffee in the Midlands; and Who’s Supporting Noisettes?

As mentioned in today’s column, the organisers of Father Christmas time have come up trumps by booking Noisettes to switch on the Christmas lights in Barnstaple this year.

It’s an improvement of seismic proportions to The Saturdays, who fake-tanned and plastic-nailed their way through a cochlea-scything set last year, and Joss Stone the year before – an artist who I found bearable before the Devon lass returned from the US sporting a curious and quite cringeworthy American accent coupled with massive delusions of grandeur.

So, who else will appear on stage with Noisettes on November 22nd?

Topping the troupe of support acts while simultaneously scraping the bottom of the pop barrel are Dolly Rockers, a female pop trio who sound like excruciatingly annoying four year old girls who have been force fed a diet of Lily Allen while being wrongly assured that the world cares about such insightful vignettes into their personal lives as “you just want to drink coffee, I just want to drink tea/So why don’t you come and meet me in the Midlands?/At the motorway service station”.

Expect them to be on stage just before Noisettes, assuming there’s not a murder backstage.

Confirmed local acts include The Breaks Collective, Jenna Witts, Jaden Cornelius, and the North Devon Community Gospel Choir. Regardless of their abilities ‘North Devon’ and ‘Gospel Choir’ are two pairs of words that somehow don’t quite fit together.

I have but one question. Where are all the local contemporary indie bands? There are a diverse selection of talented acts to choose from that could’ve done a fine job, providing a more cohesive support line-up for one of the most successful UK indie artists of 2009.

And that is by no means a slight at the local acts appearing, each of whom have their unquestionable talents, particularly The Breaks Collective. It just seems that the thriving indie scene of this region is a little under-represented.

Thoughts anyone?

Noisettes offer support slots to unsigned bands

Noisettes are offering unsigned bands the chance to support them on their upcoming UK tour.

The band will select one band per night to join them on each of the gigs. The only condition is that the bands Don't Upset The Rhythm.

I jest. Seriously though, bands must have no more than three members, so it might be time to think about sacking that redundant second guitarist.

For more details, check out the band's MySpace page at www.myspace.com/noisettesuk

The tour kicks off in Glasgow on 11 Oct and ends up with two nights at the Shepherds Bush Empire on 26-27 Oct

Athlete - Black Swan

Album Review
Released: 24.08.09
Label: Polydor
Rating: 2/5

Athlete need to find their balls.

When they first started getting name checked back in 2002 there was a genuine excitement that ensconced the Deptford four-piece. They ticked a lot of the right boxes. They were suitable for mass consumption, boasting elements of a one-size-fits-all daytime radio pop that was inescapably promising. But they also had a quirky side to them, something leftfield that put them in a league above those who were simply peddling lifeless guff to try and receive radio airplay and chart success.

Indeed, 2003’s Vehicles And Animals is a perfect illustration of Athlete’s ability to craft FM friendly pop-monsters that still had enough bite, experimentation, and decent ideas to be attractive to more discerning music fans.

But since then, their form has been questionable. Wires, taken from 2005’s Tourist album, was an achingly profound, and deeply poignant song that saw Athlete propelled to the top of the charts for the first time in their career. It was unchartered territory, and they reached it with a song that dropped the tempo, minimalised the instrumentation, and fashioned a sound that was far more introspective.

Since then, the bands experimental side (the side that made them good) has suffered, as if Wires was the new blueprint on how to write successful songs. And unfortunately that makes for a band who are becoming more toothless and pallid with every release.

Black Swan takes flight with Superhuman Touch. Built around throbbing synths, it resurrects the heady days of when Athlete were cool. But the inescapable fear and blatant conclusion is that Athlete have only reappointed such an instrument because 2009’s radio playlist has forgotten that any other instruments exist.

Musically, it sounds like MGMT, and it portends a great start. But the travails of the verse are undone by the chorus, which scrounges its vocal melody from Get What You Give by New Radicals, and is just too contrived.

Light The Way is a highlight of sorts, with rustic guitars and a careening rhythm section, but it takes two minutes to really start and is let down by a horrible snare sound, comparable to stamping on a packet of Hula Hoops. And why would anyone do that?

Don’t Hold Your Breath is made a lot better by an endearingly passionate, desperate delivery. But it still pales in comparison to the Athlete of old, while Awkward Goodbyes is precisely what the members of Athlete five years ago would immediately force themselves to conduct if they heard the cringingly wet, vomit-coaxing guff of said future track.

The Getaway sounds like the sickeningly trite worship music that defines Sunday mornings (no offence, Christian Rock), while Black Swan Song is bland and languid. In fact, bland and languid are two apt adjectives to summarise the whole album.

“This is so obvious” moans Joel Pott on Awkward Goodbyes, as if he’s already appraised his latest uninventive output. Why oh why did Athlete start ploughing the faux-introspective pop anthem furrow into which Snow Patrol have long been defecating?

naRa - Serenity

Album Review
Released: 10.08.09
Label: Eslamaphobic
Rating: 0.5/5

In what sort of compromised state of mind must the perpetrator have been enveloped in to make starting an album with a lecture about how the world’s ills can be solved through music possibly seem like a good idea?

“In order for man to gain peace, man must fight his wars with music” parps the cringingly trite message, administered with as solemn and heartfelt a voice as if conducting a reading at a funeral. It concludes with the ground-shaking call to action: “Now sit back and enjoy the groove”, before something musically comparable to haggard 90s dance music tries and fails to reconcile the slip at the starting gate.

Heinous.

The assailant in question is naRa. A singer and dance music enthusiast from Beirut. The Lebanese capital which is apparently a little off-the-pace when it comes to dance music. Serenity was produced by naRa and the humorously titled Tom Dell’Arso, their hackneyed attempts at euro-pop firmly stuck in the very worst traditions of 90s dance.

Alas, on with the album. The second track, Soul Food, sees naRa’s foam-headed cack-ramblings mark a semi-inevitable turn for the worse. A snapshot of her lyrical output: “Come on people let me see you get up”; “Can you feel it coming on so strong?”; and “It’s all about the music”.

Although apparently not. Because this music is shocking. However, when the song thankfully concludes, it does so with a pretty nice, if woefully out of place, piano motif. It’s almost in time and everything.

Genuinely naRa’s lyrics are like she’s reciting from some outlawed manual of lyrics to make blood-boil with their cringingly trite sentiments. “My life is filled with joy!” – Serenity; “I knew it was you, this time it’s true” – Love At First Sight; “Let your feet do all of the walking, let your hips do all of the talking” – Rhythm; and “Tonight is the night, come on people let me see you do it right” – repeated ad infinitum on Tonight.

But such unforgivable lyrical shortcomings mask a greater indiscretion. naRa can’t sing. Her timing is all over the place, her harmonies discordant, and she struggles to hit the right notes. Bad melodies are often overdubbed with worse melodies with catastrophic consequence. Tonight is a fine example.

The song titles too. Can neRa honestly garner nothing more enticing than titles such as Rhythm; Tonight; Stay; or I Am? Half-baked. That’s what You Are.

Her official website unpretentiously proclaims that “any true connoisseur of fine music cannot but help find her approach fascinating” – queer syntax aside, the only approach of neRa’s that could possibly usher any fascination is one into a pool of sharks from a very high diving board.

As far dissevered from serenity as smashing your face into a wall of titanium spikes.

Michael Jackson; The Last Seat On The Bandwagon; and American Taxpayers’ Dollars

It’s six weeks now since Jacko’s addiction to anaesthesia lulled him into a sleep that was a little too deep. And finally, the kneejerk outpouring of hyperbolic public hysteria is showing some signs of relenting.

Not to miss their spot on the bandwagon before it threatened to career into absurdity, however, North Devon’s modestly titled Steve Tucker All Star Jazz Band recorded a new song as a tribute to The King of Pop.

Curiously, it’s a cover a song by The Everly Brothers (All I Have To Do Is Dream). Quite what the link is to MJ is anyone’s guess, but presumably we’ll have to wait for Don or Phil Everly to meet their maker before The Steve Tucker All Star Jazz Band smash through a rendition of Thriller. Anyway, it’s on their MySpace.

Despite his notoriety, I’m unsure whether the ongoing investigation into Wacko’s death is the most prudent use American taxpayers’ dollars. Surely the resolution as to who or what was culpable is not a contentious point? Just blame it on the boogie.

Severe:Zero - The Failsafe

When word got out that Severe:Zero were tampering with their line up there resided an air of nervousness among their fanbase as to whether or not the new look band would be capable of crafting the same adrenaline-fuelled, hook-splattered, rousing brilliance.

After all, we’re not talking about the run-of-the-mill North Devon College indie start up here. Severe:Zero are a band of utterly inspiring talent, using their seemingly innate musical ability to imbue their music with compelling melodies and addictive rhythms. Their hooks are razor-sharp talons digging into your heart, your mind, whatever part they can.

The Failsafe is the first fruit bared since the line-up shuffle and mutes any remaining doubt to the point where you feel a bit silly for even contemplating any adverse effects. If anything, The Failsafe’s off-kilter rhythms, soaring melodies, and rabid guitars exhibit a band who are completely assured, who walk with an unpretentious but knowing swagger.

A heartbreaking middle eight and Luke Bond’s vocals, delivered as ever with goosebump-bringing passion, bear the hallmark of everything that makes this band so good, and it doesn’t take any great prescience to see The Failsafe joining Weapons Grade, Silence On The Radio, and Global Disaster as a live favourite.

Severe:Zero continue with their unrelenting knack of sculpting jaw-droppingly intricate, utterly accessible, and face-smashingly brutal punk rock. To say that they are a credit to the region is by no means overstatement, and their talent surpasses many a nationally-cradled FM-friendly guitar band.

FALLING APART, SID VICIOUS, AND THE SELF-PROCLAIMED PURVEYOR OF PERIL

Falling Apart, who hail from Ilfracombe, have shot a music video to accompany their new song – Nanny State. In today’s society, people say “it has to be seen to be believed” all the time, to the point where it’s been devalued. But never has such a call to action been more appropriate.

So watch it now - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQY4HoFoA80.

One might expect blood-boiling rebellion from “THE REAL PUNK EXPERIENCE” as their MySpace unpretentiously parps. What they’ve actually created, is a cringingly flaccid insight into their world, which aims at “angry punk band” but gets lost in painful self-ingratiation and trying to be funny. Since when did punk have a comedic edge?

It also does a fairly neat job of blurring the lines between music video and PR video for Barnstaple's Schofields Solicitors, which seems a curious setting for Falling Apart’s blunderings. Until you learn that the guitarist (who’s old enough to know better than to be acting out his lost youth) works there – nice land. Though somewhat at ends with the anti-nannying message of the song and certainly not very punk. I can’t imagine Sid Vicious dispensing legal advice.

The video narrates vocalist “Dangerous” Dean Davey’s world-weary mindset, fed-up with the rules and regulations that govern society. Though quite how far his performance contributes to his “dangerous” credentials remains open for debate. As he enters the solicitors, he is unimpressed with the lists of rules he is handed and told to follow. But surely this self-proclaimed purveyor of peril could have summoned action more anarchic than gaily hurling some papers into the air before flouncing out of the solicitors’ office?

Maybe it would help if he wore tighter trousers.

The mouldy cherry aloft the half-baked cake arrives midway through the video. Pause it at 1’27” and the observant among you will notice that as The Man is dishing out his rules that Davey must abide, “Regulations” is spelt incorrectly. Priceless.

Delusions of grandeur are always funny. And laughing at them always ushers a feeling of guilt. At least the boys are trying and I applaud them for being proactive. They also aren’t short of bookings so they’re doing something right, right? But the video does this band no favours, traversing more levels of wrongness than I have ever previously encountered. Falling Apart? I’d say it’s a safe bet.

Falling Apart are playing at The Wellington in Ilfracombe on 8th July – for a full gig list head to www.myspace.com/fallingapartpunkband.

North Devon Art Students' Exhibition

OK, so I concede that submitting a post about art for that all-important first post in a music blog is wayward thinking, but music is aural art so I’m content that the more visual aspects of the field can occasionally fall under my contextual remit too. Plus, I need to get this off my chest...

I’m not a lover of art. By no means am I a hater. But I’m not a lover - writing’s more my passion. But a visit to an exhibition of work by art students from North Devon College at The North Devon School of Art soon put paid to my ambivalent attitude towards the artistic discipline. Such is the display of talent and inventiveness that I spent the next day in a kind of staggered stupor, adamant that I must swap the written word for the paintbrush, the literary pen for the drawing pencil.

The highlight of my personal foray into the art world is a risible portrait of a slightly ill-looking Tim Henman that was enthusiastically composed in my school days. Except I drew the tennis racket at such an angle that only the frame was visible – it looked more like a light sabre and it was clear that the outlook for my artistic future was pretty bleak.

But in showcasing such patent and utterly inspiring talent, from the jaw-droppingly beautiful to the mind-bendingly wayward, the students’ artistic banquet has resurrected those heady Henman days, and evidences a collection of North Devon artists whose abundant skill and creativity are a credit to the region and for whom I have nothing but the utmost respect.

It’s a haggard old cliché that a picture says a thousand words. This is just pinchbeck romanticism. It’s more than that. Art is about transcending the normal rules of communication and transporting its viewer into a different world that offers the chance to look at things from a unique perspective. It’s a world without limits and where creativity abounds. Walking round the maze of galleries at the exhibition is testament to this.

So, with gasoline poured on the flames of inspiration and a roving eye cast firmly on a discipline that knows no respect for rules or boundaries, it’s once again time to flex my feeble artistic muscle and fully embrace the world of the wonky-lined tennis player that wants to be in Star Wars.

Entitled Sum of the pARTS, the exhibition is showcasing the culmination of two years worth of work by North Devon College’s foundation degree and diploma students in Illustration, Fine Art, and Ceramics. The North Devon School of Art can be found on Pottington Industrial Estate. The exhibition is open Monday – Friday, 9am – 4pm until 3^rd July, entry is free.