Gig Review: The Sherlocks at Rescue Rooms, 8th March 2017

Starting up in the dark, distant past known as 2014, The Sherlocks have come a fair way over the past three years. To say they haven't released a full album yet and have relied solely on a discography of six singles and a bunch of unreleased tracks, they've got an absolutely rabid fan-base. 

I went to Nottingham's Rescue Rooms, (just adjoining the infamous Rock City) without knowing what to expect. Apart from sharing the name of my girlfriend's cat, and their origins from a woefully under-represented Bolton-Upon-Dearne, I was essentially clueless. The only titbits of information I could gather was that the last time they came to Nottingham, it was "pure mayhem". I doubt the gig heralded the introduction of a purely anarchistic society, but I'm sure they mean it was rather mental. I see that we have different definitions of what constitutes 'pure mayhem'. 

Just to clarify before I start ranting and get all carried away from my last few strands of journalistic integrity, I just want to say that I really enjoyed the gig. Honestly, I did. No sarcasm or facetious intent here, I very much enjoyed the venue, the support acts, and The Sherlocks themselves. Anything negative from here on out can be immediately disregarded as me being grumpy, cynical, or a combination of the two. So, without further ado, on with the review.

I like venues like the Rescue Rooms. Obviously, aside from paying £4 for a can of Red Stripe, smaller locations like these let me stand near the back, yet still get a clear view of bands, and the young lads who are being sick in the middle of the crowd. There were no mentions or warnings of projectile vomiting beforehand, but thankfully I managed to keep a safe distance away. 

First up, braving the very first support slot, were Faux Pas. An indie-punk band from York, the lads did a cracking job in front of a minimal crowd. Apparently, people aren't punctual to gigs these days, although I did initially think that Faux Pas just meant some kind of break before the first advertised support act went on stage.

Next, following a much more traditional indie-rock formula were Oddity Road, although I'm afraid I can't remember where these guys are from. Oh, apologies, they're from Sheffield, as they were very adamant on letting us know. They pumped out cleaner, moodier tunes that the main act, but they gave a memorable performance and certainly are one to watch. 

Then of course, we had an interval until The Sherlocks arrived. This interval reminded me of a personal pet-peeve of mine, which is half-hearted attempts at singing. There were the usual indie-filler tunes; Two Door Cinema Club and The Smiths struck a chord with everyone, but then when 'Parklife' and 'Not Nineteen Forever' hit, the crowd suddenly turned into a nervous wreck, mumbling along until the chorus hit. Come on lads, either sing your heart out or don't bother, we're not fans of indecisiveness here. 

Coming out to 'Papa's Got a Brand New Pigbag', you could tell the crowd was bubbling: From the young 'uns who couldn't brave the surrounding pubs, to older folks around the room's perimeter, everyone was eager for the two sets of brothers which make up The Sherlocks. 

Opening with 'Last Night', (I mean, what else would they open with?), the crowd seemed to instantly live up to expectations, trying to best the liveliness displayed in the same venue in the prior year. Then blasting through 'Escapade' and unreleased tune 'Nobody Knows', they ploughed through the absolute belter 'Will You Be There?'

Here's the one worry I have about The Sherlocks. It's not the fact that head-honcho Kiaran made the wise decision to wear a scarf and jacket in a small venue rammed with about 200 people, (you're not going outside mate, there's no need to wrap up like that), it's the expectations that have been placed upon these four lads. 

Hailing as an indie band from remotely close to the steel city, everyone and their Auntie Mabel have jumped to the conclusion that these guys are the next big thing. That's quite possibly true, especially looking at the gigs that these lads put on. But putting that much pressure on an unsigned band will influence them, and not necessarily to their benefit. With many songs based around nights out, or their consequence, it's very easy to compare The Sherlocks' music to that of the Arctic Monkeys' first album, even The Courteeners. 

The Sherlocks aren't doing that. Yes, some songs reference nightlife and attempts to pull, (chiefly 'Last Night', 'Live for the Moment', 'Escapade', 'Chasing Shadows' and 'Was It Really Worth It?'), but they centre around much broader, vaguer concepts; you don't get a tune purely concerning getting a taxi home with this lot. 

But that being said, the band shine the most when they try new stuff and distance themselves from such assumptions. Five of the songs from the eleven-track set list are yet to be released, and these are by far the most interesting. They may have the tried-and-tested indie formula down to a tee, with a simplistic riff following an equally simple chorus, but tracks like 'Motions' and 'Blue' try and break that concept. For example, 'Blue' has more in common with western-sounding ballads than any typical indie banger, addressing concerns and anxieties with the future. As a result, it demands your attention in a set which risked drifting into familiar, possibly generic-sounding territory.

But thankfully, the lads turned it around, closing with two of their best tunes. It was at this point when about four teenage lads were sick and had to miss the gig's close, just to give you a fully immersive gig experience. 'Was It Really Worth It?', their latest single and possibly best song yet was the penultimate tune, which was closely followed by 'Chasing Shadows'. I can assure you, the crowd did not let up at this point, (although I suppose that's a benefit of having an eleven-song set). Stuck in a frenzy throughout the final song, The Sherlocks seemed to wield an unyielding grip on the crowd. 

Overall, it was a top gig, filled with promising support acts, a bubbling, lively crowd, and a headliner that are quickly spreading their wings in the indie scene. Top job lads, just dress appropriately next time.

Who the Fuck are Antarctic Monkeys? A Brief Gander at the Cover Band

Much like with many things in life, whether it be my job, my aspirations, or even what to have on a sandwich at Subway, I'm a bit torn on this matter. Apologies in advance, because this indecisiveness isn't going away at any point during this article, I'm just slap-bang in the middle of this certain predicament. You know what? Let me explain myself a little, in the hopes that you'll better understand my situation.

In fact, given the ambiguity of the title, I should probably explain that first. Long story short, I paid ten British pounds, (and to a student that's like taking out a second mortgage), to witness a peculiar phenomenon: The Great British cover band. Did I feel like I got my money’s worth? Did I reckon that the band were any good? Were they a viable alternative to the real thing? I couldn't really tell you, I was absolutely gone if I'm honest with you, dear reader.

Oh yes, my situation. If you have a quick look over at the acoustic lounge here at Northern Exposure, you'll understand, (hopefully). I am a member of Round Are Way, arguably the member with the best facial hair. This entire cover band malarkey is kind of what I do, along with four other dedicated lads who take on this endeavour as a passion project. As such, the entire concept of journalistic impartiality must take a back seat here; if I was to drunkenly slate the concept, I'd be doing myself, and a whole group of budding musicians a discredit. But if I praise cover bands as the next best thing since the George Foreman grill, you could be forgiven for dismissing my opinion as biased. Let me give you a little more context to get things rolling.

So, on the 4th of February for those of you using the Gregorian calendar, myself and a few other individuals forked out a tenner each to witness a full set of Arctic Monkeys songs covered by the musical stylings of the Antarctic Monkeys, a cover band with a name perfectly close to the real thing that makes you look twice if you're slightly intoxicated. 

What did I reckon? Well, for the sake of for providing you with a clear argument, and because I'm a fan of making a story out of anything, I'm first going to play devil's advocate, (not because I'm at all jealous that their cover band tours the country and plays venues that have lighting and security and all that) and bullet point some negatives. I'm then going to look at the band with a bit more of an optimistic view, ensuring that hopefully I might just retain a future in journalism. So, prepare yourself for some thinly veiled shite-talking, but don't say I didn't warn you. Here's my list of negatives:

1. I kept shouting 'mid-life crisis Alex Turner' at the front-man before I went to the bar. Yes, before I went. Although I feel that this is more a reflection of myself rather than an issue on the band's behalf. Aside from my rather comments toward the front-man, he wielded some signature Turner cockiness rather well. I was also a bit jealous of the fact that Mr. Reynolds had mastered the Turner quiff when I couldn't. 

2.  Similarly, I wasn't a fan of the bassist's T-Shirt. Stuck out a bit much for my liking. However, I was a fan of his facial hair, so this point kind of invalidates itself. 

3. A tenner a ticket lads? I appreciate you're proper professionals and all that, but I couldn't even sneak into Propaganda afterwards! I also had a mate who scoffed at me for seeing a cover band rather than watching a DJ pump tunes out on his MacBook, (in a point which is kind of elaborated on in a bit) so there's that too. 

4. The Antarctic Monkeys' version of 'Mardy Bum' made mine look a bit rubbish in comparison. Cheers lads, much appreciated. Honestly, you guys with your practicing and rehearsing and doing it for over a decade and all that...

5. Leading on from my last point, these lads get to do shite like this, as seen in the below picture.

Antarctic Monkeys Facebook

What is this picture? Good question, dear reader. This is the chaps of Antarctic Monkeys after playing a gig for Liam Gallagher's son's birthday, and it's rightfully captioned, "Who'd be in a tribute band aye!". Purely out of spite, as an individual who doesn't get to do stuff like that, this has made the negative side of this list.

6. This experience really, really made me want to see the real thing. But given that we can't expect to see any new Arctic Monkeys material until the middle of this year, (at the earliest), it's going to be a long six or so months.

7. Four quid for a single vodka? Surely you can't be serious lads? I mean, I know this was not fault of the band themselves, it's just I felt that such an injustice needed exposing.

8. There's got to be some individuals who see proper gigs for cover bands to be a bit of a waste? Whenever we've played a venue, it's either been as a support for an original/bigger cover band, or doing our own gigs in your very own local. Of course, my musical endeavours and that of these guys are worlds apart from each-other, but some are still a tad sceptical:

 

See what I mean? I found at least one person who's a bit wary about the entire concept. Forget the fact that they can't use the word 'an', or the fact that there's always demand for old, well-known tunes being played live rather than original acts, this Rosie is on it. At least two-hundred people rammed into The Platform at a tenner a ticket? Of course, I'm sure the venue will have some of that, but that's a nice pay check for a two-hour set.

There you go then. Eight highly detailed and down to earth points. And if you look beyond my tendencies to exaggerate slightly, you'll see that none of my points really address the important things, like musical aptitude or vocal ability. Aside from being a bit jealous and trying to blame the drinks prices on this Wolverhampton four-piece, there's not a lot to complain about really. I suppose at a push, Mr. Turner's vocals did feel a bit forced, but if they were props to him for keeping it up for the duration of the gig

Now to calm myself slightly and adopt a positive outlook. What did I enjoy about the Antarctic Monkeys gig on The Platform? 

Well, like the aforementioned Rosie, I too was a bit apprehensive about a full, paid gig being dedicated to a single cover band, even though I believe that most are the shit. That's not shit, that's the shit. And these guys will proudly tell you that they're the "Official International Tribute to the Arctic Monkeys", what that means is a different matter entirely, I can only assume that the guys went up to Turner and Helders and politely asked them for their blessing...

But anyway, the experience itself was not unlike most other full-time cover bands: You rock up to the gig, probably a bit late and rather drunk, (they are only a cover band after all, right Rosie?), get an extortionate round in while they come on, sing along with whoever you've gone with, make some sideways comment along the lines of "yeah, they're actually alright these", and then carry on your session elsewhere. That was indeed what I experienced myself, but there were a few factors which I did appreciate, and felt the need to highlight to you. 

There a few problems with Arctic Monkeys. Yes, I'm referring to the real deal here. Of course, you (dear reader) may believe the newer stuff of the Sheffield quartet is somewhat lacking when compared to their older, rawer tunes. You may or may not be right, but that's not what I'm getting at. Being the latest indie behemoth since Oasis, Turner and friends have trouble nowadays with smaller, more intimate venues without going acoustic; it would be a bit odd going from Glastonbury and Finsbury Park all the way to your nearest O2 Academy. As such, we may never unfortunately see the likes of their early, high-energy gigs in small pubs and clubs. You know, like this: 

Yeah sorry lads, that probably isn't happening again. But what you did get with Antarctic Monkeys, was a mix of the original band's stadium-filling modern bangers (see 'R U Mine?'), but also rarely played earlier tunes, my personal favourite being 'Perhaps Vampires is a Bit Strong But...'. You got those lovely small venue vibes and the best possible Arctic Monkeys set list. When are we going to get a proper version of 'Mardy Bum' again, never mind the likes of their debut album tunes which never made it into singles? If you can't see the real thing anytime soon, get yourself towards these lads. It'll even be cheaper, closer and more frequent that the real thing too. 

I may have previously thrown some derogatory comments towards a Mr. Reynolds, (not the darts player, the Antarctic lead chap), but his imitation of Turner is spot on: Quiff? Check. Leather jacket and shirt combo? Check. Black and Gold Les Paul? Check. The sly banter between tunes seals the deal, and the front-man has done his homework for his pre-song quips. The act's dedication and cohesion is stellar, and it shows in the grace present in their performances. I always disregard comments like "just as good as the real thing", but these remarks aren't without an element of truth.

What I'm trying to say, in an admittedly long-winded fashion, is that if you have a drink, suspend your disbelief slightly, and bring the right friends with you, Antarctic Monkeys will probably be as good as the real thing. You'll also be closer to home and have some spare dosh to spend on those enticing Desperados offers, so really, it’s a win/win. Apologies for being weary lads, and I'll see you in Rotherham in March. I'm sure 'Fake Tales...' will go down a treat there. 

A Brief Gander at Oasis: Chasing The Sun - Manchester Exhibition

After being hosted in a peculiar location in the nation's capital, this unique insight into the glory days of one of Britain's biggest bands came home to the Old Granada Studios in the centre of Manchester, in a much more fitting venue. In the midst of constant reunion rumours, the exhibition was a welcomed change among the array of tabloid speculation and die-hard fans ranting about what once was.

I'll have to admit now, I had no idea what to expect, aside from the odd guitar from the older Gallagher's collection. Aside from the fabled life-sized recreation of Bonehead's living room, which was the setting for the artwork of their debut album, Definitely Maybe. I was somewhat in the dark. If only I would've looked at the cover of the programme, which stated in a fittingly direct manner that the exhibition featured 'Rare and iconic photographs, artefacts and memorabilia from the early years of Oasis'. And in that regard, it didn't disappoint. 

There was something to please every level of Oasis fan: If you wanted, you could go in, take a few pictures of the memorable features, have a snap in the replica front room of the rhythm guitarist, then buy a programme and be on your merry way. You know, like this:

But if you knew what to look for, you could very easily revel in the little bits and bobs which were on offer. For the attentive, there was everything from old set-lists and triple-A passes, to old tickets from their November 1995 gig at Earls Court, which cost a whopping £14! Seriously though, they're some decent seats too.

Even that iconic (albeit poorly photographed) Epiphone Sheraton emblazoned with the Union Jack, making its' debut at the Maine Road shows, was on display, soaking up most of the glory and attention from the other three Epiphones and a lonely Rickenbacker. 

The highlight for me was the dual Epiphone Rivieras, used on the cover of Definitely Maybe and on the accompanying tour. 

If you're a fan of early Oasis, specifically from 1993-1997, then I'm afraid to say that you missed a cracking opportunity to gain a surprisingly personal insight into one of your favourite bands. This and the recent documentary, Supersonic, has provided a new series of delights for avid fans, although it might prove why we might not need an Oasis reunion anytime soon, if at all. Hell, if you were a particularly loaded visitor to the exhibition, you could even have bought a lovely piece of Oasis art, or even an original poster or two.

Unfortunately though, you couldn't buy some of the original artefacts. You could watch a few videos of some proper tunes, like their cover of 'I Am The Walrus' with the Bootleg Beatles, or even some interviews from when the Gallagher brothers were just first getting started, firing off proclamations of being the best band in the world. 

There were some absolute treats housed in the Old Granada Studios, whether it be drum kit from the cover of the 'Don't Look Back In Anger' single, Liam's parka from one of their Glastonbury gigs, or even their platinum discs from their second album. For me, the favourites were some of Noel's original scribbling from the aforementioned single, or if that wasn't enough, what about one of their early set-lists, consisting of some proper belting tunes from the first two albums. The encore alone is worthy of some praise - 'Don't Look Back In Anger', 'Live Forever' and ending with 'Rock N Roll Star'.

You never know, keep your fingers crossed and the exhibition might just go on tour again sometime, and for your sake, I certainly hope it does. No matter what you think or feel towards Oasis, the exhibit served solely to remind you of the music of the band. Of course, big fans of the group are going to revel in the glory-filled nostalgia which is the bands' peak between '93 and '97, but the intent and result of the endeavour is best put in the introduction of the accompanying programme, with an old quote from the chief himself, who is humbly grounded in this section as someone who was just "drifting along" as a "former fish-tank maker, signwriter, baker's assistant and labourer":

"In 20 years' time, people will buy Definitely Maybe and listen to it for what it was. That's what is important"

With that being said, I went home and listened to their debut album all the way through. And I thought it was a pretty top record, with the angst of young, listless northern men wanting to escape from uncertainty. As predicted, 20 years later, people are still inspired the themes and messages the album has to offer. It just helps that these ideas are housed in some impeccable songs. 

Impressions: Take Control - Slaves

Slaves, if you didn't already know, are two lads from Tunbridge Wells. They are two tattooed tearaways who managed to reinvigorate the post-punk genre with an overwhelming dose of irony. It's a bit weird, really; the pairing are amusing, and know that any attempt to create music harking back to the likes of the Sex Pistols and The Clash can't be done without putting your tongue firmly in your cheek. 

Their first album, Are You Satisfied? ensured that the theme of silliness was consistent throughout, with no brief lapses into serious. Admittedly, there was an overarching sense of disappointment and frustration with modern millennials, (see songs like 'Despair and Traffic' and 'Do Something'), but it was a form of dissatisfaction which acutely aware of its audience, and of who it was addressing. The most serious song from their debut album was 'Sugar Coated Bitter Truth', a tune which delves into government conspiracy, but loses all remnants of seriousness when Issac shouts "Do not trust the flies, they are government spies!". 

That's the problem with Take Control. In the mere time-frame of a year and a half, the duo have become full of toxicity and purpose. They're getting too serious, far too quickly, and it's a worry which has been visible since their first new tune after their debut album, in the now confusingly named track, 'Control'; you know, that tune which Slaves think is incredibly significant and politically charged, when really it's just a generic stringing together of rebellious lyrics. Unfortunately, it seems that this new found seriousness has carried over to their new album.

When I had a look at Are You Satisfied?, it was a cheerful album full of hope and optimism in a world depicted as dull, dreary and downright dreadful. As a result, you got focused songs which didn't really tie together as part of a coherent album theme, but appeared refined despite their raw and visceral sound. You had tunes like 'Feed the Mantaray' and 'Hey', which regardless of whatever inspired the lyrics, are now seen as songs in which Issac is screaming about either aquatic wildlife or some particular vicious children in the respective tunes. While that might seem to be quite odd, there's absolutely nothing wrong with that: In fact, they're great songs, going on about some complete nonsensical situations. 

Anyway, let's have a look at Take Control from a purely objective standpoint, shall we? Or at least as objective as a notoriously subjective individual can get...

First and foremost, if you toss out all of the qualms with the excessively weighty messages of the album, the clashing messages and contradictory tone, and those skit sections, the individual songs seem a fair bit tighter than their previous efforts, and rather well-written. 'Spit It Out', for all its uninspiring lyrics, it a song with a solid structure at the very least.

'Hypnotised' also sounds a bass-filled ballad with a lot of inspiration from the duo's American counterparts, eerie resembling the likes of Death From Above 1979. Things get a bit sillier when it comes to tunes like 'People That You Meet', as the video shows Laurie shaving a man's head as Issac recalls an intriguing experience in a sex shop; it's the careless lyrics and simple, listlessly heavy tune which best fits the duo, resulting in a song which sounds like something off of their first album in the process. 

This carries on with a lack of certainty with 'Consume Or Be Consumed' - at first, I was a tad worried that the lads were going to try and make some eloquent comment on the flaws of the capitalist system, but this is put to rest with the weighty, swaying bass, and a snippet of someone cutting their legs off with a chainsaw. In this instance, the tune is no more politically impacting than 'Sugar Coated Bitter Truth'. 

I think that's a recurring theme with Take Control. Altogether, it doesn't add up to their debut album, but that certainly doesn't mean you should dismiss it entirely; it's a valiant effort indeed. We were all a bit worried that the lovely lads were going to get a bit too serious with this album, but I think everyone simply forgot who Slaves were, believing that they'd be off on their second album trying to reshape their identity and image. Nah mate, that wasn't the case after all. 

Of course, as their bibliography expands, the duo are going to sound a bit more bland, (that being said, the last few songs on the album do experiment quite a bit). Similarly, their songs may refrain from spouting nonsense and attempt to get the odd message across, but ultimately, no individual lyric or section of a song will result in any dire consequences. Then again, the pairing do still amuse with their short skit segments, and certain aforementioned lyrics, (how can a song about a sex shop not warrant the odd giggle?). They're still finding their happy medium when it comes to recorded material, and Slaves are well on their way to achieving this ideal. Obviously, they're doing grand when it comes to their energetic live performances.

To put it as wonderfully simple as I can; it's alright. Tell a lie, it's decent, getting on good - I can't help but feel that my previously mentioned worries about Slaves getting too serious with their Chase and Status tune was just a phase. Admittedly, it's not the same enticing LP which we welcomed a while ago, but it's nothing to strike down in a fit of politically-charged fury. I don't know what everyone expected from an album from a care-free punk duo, but give it a while, it'll grow on you. 

Music Spotlight: Something New for Uni

I know what you youths are like these days, going around campus, music blaring out at ungodly hours. Cities view September with an overbearing sense of dread, fearful of the forthcoming scourge that will accompany the start of the new academic year. 

Regardless of how you act at uni, chances are you'll be stereotyped as the listless student by all other faucets of society, especially if you're attending a university in a small city, and even more so if you're a bright-eyed fresher. Some say that stereotypes exist for a reason, and if this involuntary image of yourself is going to be attached to you regardless of how you act, then there's no point trying to change it, really. 

So embrace your inner student: Go out on a tenner. Wake up at 3 P.M. Blast out music at potentially unreasonable hours, and turn it up louder on a school night. So while you're at it, here's three new tunes that'll make sure you can look like the biggest music hipster going. You'll either be the life of the party, or ignored completely, but let's face it; there's a good chance of that happening regardless. 

The Assist - Love

If you want to be that guy who's incredibly nostalgic of Britpop, (the one who makes out he's been to Oasis' Maine Road gigs despite the fact that he'd have been about 3 at the time), then look no further than the modern resurrection of Madchester. 

This movement has seen somewhat of a resurgence nowadays, with traditional band formats being loaded with a swarm of psychedelic elements. Just think of all the layers in this tune, I mean, I lost count. 

So anyway, these lads are bringing back the glory days of Madchester with some uncharacteristically tight lyrics, giving the song a bit of welcome pace and punch. It uses just enough effects and post-editing to make it sit on the fence between a 90s club banger and a modern indie hit.  

They're like the Charlatans, only the frontman, Mikey, has funny hair. 

Small Victories - Future

If you're of the belief that two-man bands are the future, well, you might be onto something. With a sound reminiscent of The Joy Formidable, the duo are doing something right indeed, making a massive sound with minimal members, a feat which has led to the success of similarly constructed bands such as Slaves and Royal Blood.

Rather than utilising nostalgic attraction, the two appear to be firmly focused on the future, giving a garage rock style of music which doesn't immediately rely on distorted guitars and spat-out lyrics. Think The Black Keys rather than The Stone Roses for these two. 

The Midnight Barbers -  Hey Master

Last but not least, take a step into something a bit more bizarre. Another duo, The Midnight Barbers seem intent on giving you some very weird dreams; it's fine though, because they want to soundtrack said dreams with good ol' fashioned rock and roll, something which has been direly overlooked in modern music. 

If I was going to make any criticism, the song itself doesn't seem too inspired. Admittedly, the lyrics are just as brash and harsh as necessary, it's just the lacklustre chord arrangement makes it sound like they're trying to rip off of T-Rex. But ah well, there's going to be some overlap with classic rock, I suppose. 

Whereas the other two tunes in this post had the intent of appealing to certain groups, I really don't know what to do with this one. With a video like that, you probably won't be starting any leisurely conversations with slightly tipsy people at the bar. Probably stick to this track if you want to give yourself some space, I reckon. Or take it to an art class and describe how it represents the subconscious, I've not a clue. 

Monday Music Spotlight: English Americana

Whether you like it or not, American culture is incredibly potent and infectious. Without anyone realising it, America has slowly but surely managed to seep its way into every corner of the world.

Even huge bands, like the Arctic Monkeys, a four-piece which has managed to become synonymous with Northern iconography, and the mid-noughties revolution of bravely utilising your accent, have had a bit of an American twang to them as of late. 

Call this scepticism, or Alex Turner's unique brand Americana (via Sheffield, of course), but it seems that national pride has took a bit of a holiday when it comes to British music. 

But this isn't a new phenomenon, certainly not. Local bands have been trying to emulate their stateside cousins for a long time, and it's an epidemic which isn't merely isolate to a particular genre. God help us all. 

Teenage Fanclub - What You Do To Me

I remember seeing these guys last year as a support act for the Foo Fighters in Manchester. In an ideal world, I would've gone to Sunderland instead, (who got support from The Strypes and Kaiser Chiefs), but then again, we don't live in a perfect world. Along with a peculiar two-piece by the name of God Damn, these guys got an introduction by Dave Grohl himself, telling us how he'd been a fan of them for years, and that they'd been going since the nineties. 

They're a band who've been going for ages, and with a lengthy list of accomplishments. Hell, they've been called the second best in the world by Liam Gallagher, and they're on the verge of releasing their tenth studio album. 

Their inoffensive mixture of pop, indie and a dash of alternative have ensured their longevity, but you can tell by their fan-base that they tend to cater to a predominantly American audience, sounding reminiscent of the Beach Boys as opposed to anything from this side of the Atlantic. Their music certainly is a far cry away from their native Bellshill, in Scotland. 

Mumford and Sons - Hopeless Wanderer

These guys have managed to fool everyone; when they exploded in popularity a few years ago, it was like no-one had heard folk music before. With parts of vintage-bluegrass and country music impeding on their work, the London-based four-piece have imported Americana to the UK and capitalised on the unfamiliar sound massively.

Their debt to American roots music is evident, and although the band is trying to break away from their origins with their latest album, the initial wave of double bass and acoustic guitars which they promoted won't be forgotten anytime soon. 

The Zutons - Valerie

Unfortunately, The Zutons only really became popular due to one particular cover, and the band didn't gain much recognition outside of it. That being said, the bassist did go on to join Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds, so make of that what you will. 

It's truly a shame, because I remember the infectiously catchy nature of this song when it was released, becoming one of the instant indie classics alongside the likes of 'In the Morning' or 'Chelsea Dagger'. It's one of those tunes which has about 80% chance of being played in any indie club. 

Much like the aforementioned Teenage Fanclub, The Zutons seems keen to disregard their Scottish identity, making use of an accent which sounds nothing like, say that of Biffy Clyro's Simon Neil. It's comparable to the American twang of Alex Turner; it's not an absolute game-changer, but you can't help but feel a bit remorseful when you recognise it. 

See what I mean? This gradual disease can't be stopped, and it's only contributing to the Americanisation of absolutely everything. Ah well, I'm sure we'll have an influx of indie bands who aren't afraid to represent their homeland. 

Monday Music Spotlight: Intoxicating Ballads

This post is a terrible idea. 

For one, this list is rather extensive, and simply cannot be contained by a petty blog. It demands something worth sharing, something a bit more involving to the audience. I've got to pick three of my best drunk tunes, and that is a very difficult task.

In an ideal world, I'd be ramming out dank playlists on Spotify every week for your hearing pleasure, but such a feat would require multiple things; an increasingly extensive knowledge of multiple music genres, the patience to create a cohesive and varied series of playlists, and you know, dedication. 

Even if I had the resolve to construct a list of around ten songs every week, some of them just won't suffice for you. We all have our own favourite alcohol-fuelled anthems, and me throwing some recommendations your way isn't going to change that.

Ah well. Here's a few tunes to get you in the drinking spirit. At least until you get into the club and are overwhelmed with the smell of cheap aftershave, WKD and depressingly predictable musical choices.

Gay Bar - Electric Six

I find this tune is an ideal anthem to try and pull to. If your obviously top dancing doesn't do the trick when it comes to courting a chosen individual, you can always attempt to sing/shout the lyrics really loudly within an uncomfortably close proximity to the other person. I mean, it worked for me.

Alternatively, you can sing the lyrics with a sense of irony. If you're a drunken male youth attempting to entertain a potential lady-friend, you obviously wouldn't want to take her to a gay bar, would you? 

Possibly not, I hear Spoons has some wonderful deals, but what if she says "Aye, can do"? The good folks at Electric Six just got you a date without even trying, and you're welcome.  

As a last resort, you can sing and dance to this catchy riff with anyone. Sing to the reluctant bar staff, dance with your mates as to not appear like boring sods, and probably avoid screaming the lyrics at the bouncers, you know, just in case. 

This song also taught me that using the phrase 'nuclear war' is apparently to shy away from. I guess you learn something new everyday. 

Rock & Roll Queen - The Subways

Presenting to you, that one song from around 2005 that everyone knew, and was played absolutely everywhere, in games, TV adverts, and film trailers; although no-one ever knew who made it. 

Well you can now rest easy, as it was The Subways, (not that sandwich shop) who gave us this remarkably simple track with only three chords, so you can tell it stemmed from an indie/punk artist. 

Thankfully though, the few lyrics that the song has are repeated almost endlessly, with only the odd deviation between verses. Even in your most darkest, drunken state, you'll still be able to remember the words rather than humming some gibberish really loudly. 

Despite its simplicity, the lacking lyrics and minimal notes do just what the song requires. It makes everyone think they can play guitar, and if there's one in the vicinity, they'll probably have a go. It's probably best to hide your musical instruments while this song's on. 

Supersonic - Oasis

When I rocked up to uni for my inaugural freshers week, I made an effort to portray myself as a man of different tastes. I don't mean that in a weird way, oh no. It's just while everyone else seemed content with listening to the same old tag-team of 'When the Sun Goes Down' and 'Mr. Brightside', along with a plethora of generic pop hits, I liked to act somewhat nostalgically. 

Obviously, I'd have to enduldge in the odd Arctic Monkeys tune, but it certainly wasn't anything worthy of traditional radio airtime. Rather than 'Fluorescent Adolescent', it was instead 'If You've Found This It's Probably Too Late', a mental tune oozing of early Monkeys sound, and belting through its less than two minute duration. But ultimately, I needed a band to anchor in this new portrayal of myself, and what better than the swaggering rose-tinted perspective of the Gallagher brothers and Oasis. 

Gloss over the irony of me singing "I need to be myself / I can't be no-one else" from my newfound student perspective, and you've got arguably the best single that the Manchester band ever produced. So at pre-drinks, I'd turn into your typical Roses and Oasis dad-fan, arms wide open and singing along too loudly. But at least I picked the right song to do it to. 

Alternative Oasis selections are varied and extensive; points are awarded to anyone who would've also picked any live version of 'Supersonic', 'Morning Glory' and 'Live Forever'. So it may be an idea to create a purely Britpop pre-drinks playlist, just make sure everyone's aware of at least one Pulp tune. Although be warned, the party may be overwhelmed by 40 year-old football fans who exclusively drink Amstel, (not that it's a bad thing). 

Best of luck out there, don't make yourself too much of a tit when listening to these absolute bangers.