Scottish Gig Highlights – November 2014
November’s an odd one, isn’t it? If it weren’t for the unrelenting omnipresence of pumpkin spice permeating every facet of your existence, you could almost kid yourself we’re nowhere near winter, let alone the C-word (not that one, you dirty rascal!). Yet, here we are. You’ve only just sweated out the Dutch courage it took to debut your 'home-made' (read: shit) Halloween costume, and suddenly we’ve crashed into the penultimate month of 2014 before you’ve even had a chance to scrape the pound-shop face-paint out of your eyebrows. But time waits for no man...
Claire Brentnall’s siren-esque voice is reason aplenty to be lured into Shield Patterns' aquarium of sounds at 13th Note in Glasgow. After a chance meeting with Gizeh Records boss Richard Knox in 2012, the pair began performing together, before deciding to weave their musical talent into the auditory wonderland that is Contour Lines. It’s wide-eyed and atmospheric, a ruminating sound punctured only by its own rhythmic stirrings; go and get engulfed (6 Nov).
Living proof that Sub Pop can do hip-hop with the best of them (see this past summer's kaleidoscopic opus, Lese Majesty), Seattle-based retro-futurist rap duo Shabazz Palaces swing by Glasgow to submerge Nice 'n' Sleazy's basement in Tendai Maraire's fractured beats and Ishmael Butler's stargazing flows. A squeegee for your third eye on 7 Nov.
It’s hard to write about Sleaford Mods' Divide and Exit without imagining Jason Williamson himself reading every word and quickly letting you know he thinks you’re an utter prick. The duo’s latest record is exactly the kind of unadorned vexation that’ll scratch an itch for everyone who’s just realised they’re in the 99%. It’s what Arctic Monkeys might have become before they volunteered themselves for the role of rock-messiahs. Or what Mike Skinner might be if he could manage to stop crywanking over fit girls he met in kebab shops. The mods have taken the indirect poesy of Jim Cartwright, slapped some beats underneath and poured curry sauce on top. And it’s brilliant. Electric Circus, 8 Nov.
In a world where Sinatra is covered and appropriated by every smarmy devil who can get his hands on a pinstripe suit and metallic mic-stand, it’s spectacular to hear a record which notes Frank himself as an influence, and actually does the man justice. A relief in its modernity and ingenuity, Hamilton Leithauser's Black Hours showcases the Walkmen frontman's divine, crackly vocals alongside lucid and gorgeous instrumentation. And not a drop of sleaze in sight. Edinburgh's Electric Circus, 12 Nov.
Hip-hop artist, film star, motivational speaker – everyone wants a piece of Lonnie Rashid Lynn, Jr. (known to the common man as eh... Common) these days, so make sure you get a rare live serving of the Chicago MC at O2 ABC (12 Nov), bringing with him Nobody’s Smiling, the tenth release from a discography which spans some two decades of acclaimed releases.
Poor Little Dragon have had a knackering few years after touring the circumference of the globe with Gorillaz, while simultaneously drumming up their 2011 LP Ritual Union. But after two years spent working on new material in their Swedish studio, this year we’ve seen the return of a silkier, sulkier iteration of the Gothenburg quartet, brandishing their most introspective and intelligent work yet. Worry not, Nabuma Rubberband’s still got the same old bouncy-ball bass and playful percussion, just this time underscoring lyrics like “you’re gonna make me put my fist through this mirror” chanted through gritted teeth. And it really works. Glasgow's O2 ABC, 23 Nov.
From the first quivering chant of Too Bright, it’s a given that Perfume Genius is going to give us no less than eleven tracks of chilling pleasure. Mike Hadreas’ voice swells and shrinks between fulsome and feline, hostile and haunted. It’s a side-step in style from his previous work, and he attributes the shift to “an underlying rage that has slowly been growing since age ten and has just begun to bubble up.” If the catharsis that has manifest itself so handsomely in Too Bright is equally present in his upcoming dates, Perfume Genius may have found another way to keep us thrilled. Edinburgh Caves, 23 Nov.
It’s understandable that Alfred Weisberg-Roberts took his stage name from the mythological inventor Daedelus when he began to produce electronica. The Light Brigade, released this past September, is a picture-book of magnificent noise. From the charming acoustic stutters in Baba Yaga to the lilting Onward, Daedelus remains a gifted producer who demonstrates a firm grip on thematic consistency while skimming the cream of a wide range of styles. Sneaky Pete’s, 25 Nov.
Brighton three-piece The Wytches write the kind of music that chills your blood and warms your guts simultaneously. More than just post-ironic guitar shredding and musical melodrama, Annabel Dream Reader is a psychedelic, gothy treat. If you’re in the mood to take on something massive and fancy some grimy rock and general melodrama, drink it all in at Glasgow's Stereo on 29 Nov.
Sharon Van Etten is the sort of artist who doesn’t succumb to the pressure to re-invent with every record in order to engage the attention of distractible fan-bases. Instead, she has evolved alongside the changing musical landscape and enriched her folky sound in the process. As a result, Are We There feels like the successful culmination of three years' experimentation; we'll wage it's worth witnessing in the flesh at Glasgow Art School on 25 Nov.
DO NOT MISS: OUGHT, GLASGOW CCA, 16 NOV
If there was one band whose records were most qualified to teach that patience is a virtue, it would be Montréal export Ought. Refusing to deliver a rhythm any less than sublime, they execute a pull-and-release throughout the whole record that’s exhausting and exhilarating. Each track feels like a project between Ought and listener, and that will only be intensified live. Even if it’s just to hear the marvelously layered soundscapes. Even if it’s for the smirky syncopation. Even if it’s to be whipped into frenzied jig by Beeler’s worship of banality in Today More Than Any Other Day. Just go already.