The First Frost of autumn. Liam Frost Live Review St Pancras Old Church

Liam Frost *****
Norma Jean Martine ***1/2**
Daniel James *****

St Pancras  Old Church, Wednesday 2nd October 2013

A church. A real church. Not deconsecrated or anything. A proper, working bloody church. Gulp. It is with more than a little apprehension that I cross the threshold; fearing my lips blistering, lightening bolts or being turned into a pillar of salt.

But The Big Man's obviously having an off day and I avoid any heavenly punishment and take a proper old-fashioned church seat in this most stunning, dimly lit and atmospheric of venues.

Daniel James *****

First onto the pulpit is London-based Ulsterman Daniel James. Appears to pretty standard singer/songwriter fare to begin with: good looking slightly moody young lad with an acoustic guitar and an almost apologetic air sidles onto stage to no fanfare and kicks off into a perfectly pleasant strummy acoustic song with a cracking voice. All good. All nice. All, well, a bit seen and heard before. 

BUT, the lad has a fiendish trick or two in his wizard's sack. Firstly there's the 21st century equivalent of a string-driven one-man-band kick drum - a pedal which he stomps at with glee to produce a big ol' marching band boom-boom. 

Then, there's another magic pedal/box of tricks which layers delicious vocal harmonies over his voice, from almost tribal woo oos to gospel choir styled depth, which in this house of supposed omniscient being, adds a heavenly, choral and glorious texture to his well constructed and beautifully delivered songs.

Interesting, slick, soulful and lovely stuff.

Norma Jean Martine ***1/2**

For the second reading in this evening's service Stateside chanteuse Norma Jean Martine props herself behind her electric piano altar and kicks off with a very pleasant and beautifully sung pared-down ballad.

Her voice is point-perfect and clean but for me, she does a little too much of 'that thing'. The 'that thing' that I sadly struggle to adequately describe. Ashamed to admit it, I have occasionally watched X-Factor and you know the kooky girls they get every year (Diana Vickers, the other one with the DMs et al), they do 'that thing'. It's like there's a small bubble at the back of the throat which has a restrictive compression on the pronunciation. You know, 'that thing'. And every aspiring young female singer seems to do it, at least a little bit.

Anyway, 'that thing' aside, she certainly puts a good tune together and delivers a frail but strong beauty. After the first tune, she then swaps to a guitar and what looks like a rag-tag assemblage of a super slick jug band joins her on the pulpit. Acoustic guitarist/keys, electric guitarist, percussionist on one of those de rigeur Cajon box thingies, backing singer and a tiny bloke on a massive acoustic bass.

And things get huger. A big sound fills the now packed church. It's kind of nu-country, kind of folky, kind of, well, nice. Thankfully, the ensemble doesn't overpower Martine's delicious voice ('that thing' notwithstanding) and they plough through an engaging, soulful, pleasant set. The songs are good throughout if not a wee bit derivative, but there's enough diversity and dynamic on show to stop it all sounding too samey.

Whether there's enough sustainable difference from the hundreds of similar acts it's difficult to say, but apart from 'that thing' she certainly has got something. And something potentially very special.

Liam Frost *****

So, first and second readings done, it's now time for the main sermon. And a very slim, stylish looking reverend Frost steps up to the altar in front of a now completely packed church (one can't help thinking that the vicar/priest/wizard that calls this place his own wouldn't feel massively jealous at the size of the congregation here tonight - it feels like Songs Of Praise is being filmed in a normally empty parochial church and the whole village have showed up - where were you bastards last week?). 

Anyway, back to the very reverend skinny manc.

I've been a massive fan of Mr Frost from his earliest days as a chubby, emo-looking embarrassed penguin with a floppy fringe and a bottle of Jack in his days with his Slowdown Family in its various line-ups through his session-band accompanied, record company influenced attempts to hit the big time: countrified, americanised and smoothified. But the one thing that has remained consistent is his astonishing honesty, integrity, frailty and amazing songwriting ability.

In the most packed of all possible genres; being a singer/songwriter with an acoustic guitar is the most difficult to achieve 'stand out' - there's nowhere to hide. But Frost stands so far apart from so many of the chasing pack. His songsmithery is delicious, complex, witheringly honest, personal, poetic and original. And tonight, he's at his very, very finest.

His voice is plaintively perfect. His playing clever, at times complex but always soulful. And the combination is mesmerising, captivating and spellbinding. Running through a huge range of songs culled from the very beginning through to brand new delights and even a stunning, goosebump-inducing Sade cover, he just opens up the clear water with the competition more and more with every note he plays and sings. And I have to admit that on several occasions tonight I was genuinely moved to watery eyes and dry throat.

The love struck congregation dine greedily and the effusive reception to every song hopefully shows Liam the love and respect that'll keep him producing such fabulous and gorgeous music long into the future. 

The word needs to be spread. Amen.

TOKOLOSH and Tosh - Live Review Wilmington Arms

TOKOLOSH *****HK119 1/2*****

The Wilmington Arms, Clerkenwell, 4th March 2013

Not been to the Wilmington arms before. But impressed by a decent sized room attached to a fantastic real ale pub. Even if it was full of achingly cool east London types.

So, what’s in store for the hipsters and dripsters tonight?

HK119 1/2*****

Having checked out tonight’s support on TwatterFace beforehand, it becomes apparent that HK119 is not a Heckler And Koch machine pistol, but the sobriquet of one Heidi Kilpeläinen - a London-based Finnish performance artist. And, she’s promising the audience the appearance of the ‘rarely seen’ human iceberg. Gulp.

This could be a joke...

Ok, a man walks into a pub...In a smock. With a viking beard. And settles behind a bank of synths and boxes of buttons. He’s joined by a statuesque woman sporting a shiny red accordian. They both stand surrounded by ivy and foliage (you ‘eard) while surreal and oh-so-arty dreamscape clips are projected onto the dingy walls.

Music, of sorts, starts as the ‘rarely seen’ human iceberg makes her way through the collection of beard-stroking coolites. I’m now very uncomfortable. Open minded. But definitely uncomfortable.

Wrapped in a what looked like a teenage boy’s week old bed sheet (you know, you have to break it over your knee to get it in the washing basket) and sporting a white prismic hat, Kilpeläinen takes to the stage.

To the background of retro 80s clunky and totally unsophisticated keyboard farts, bleeps, burps and pads she sets off into the first song. Coincidentally enough, about icebergs. And, to be honest; it’s awful. No, really awful.

The lyrics sound like a 12 year old girl’s first poetry attempt at simile and metaphor. So cringeworthy. So naiive. So, well, terrible.

And it really doesn’t get any better. Mild amusement ensues as she removes her rarely seen human iceberg hat to reveal another prismic pointy hat. This time in a William Morris-esque floral print to match her newly revealed slinky catsuit, having thrown off the boy protein-fortified bed sheet.

The polite chuckles continue apace, as for the next tune, Ms 119 removes the second pointy prismic hat to reveal: a bush. Yup, a full-on leafy bush thing. Growing out of her nordic blonde mane. 

She ‘plays’ a ukulele, blows into a tin whistle, hits one of those really annoying synth drums. Uses a voice distorter to sound like Darth Vader with bronchitis and ‘sing’ about worms eating her legs. I don’t remember mainlining meth or taking a fistful of goofballs this evening, but that’s what it feels like: curioser and curioser. But, sadly, no better. This is genuinely the soundtrack to a nightmare.

Saying that, the ‘rarely seen’ human iceberg can certainly sing. I just wish I wasn’t here to hear her. There are moments of Kate Bush, Bjork (inevitably and lazily), flashes of Nina Hagen and the meanderings and hollerings of Peter Hammill. But it just doesn’t work. The ‘songs’ are performances but not songs. But the performance is lame, lacklustre and undynamic. Music, but not musical. The ‘music’ being empty, derivative, unchallenging and flat. Worst of all, there’s a knowing, self-congratulatory, self-indulgent self-import imbuing the whole evening. If it is a joke it’s not in the least bit funny. If it’s serious, it’s seriously no good.

Ok, it’s harsh to apply the ‘normal’ musical rules of thumb when looking at something that clearly purports to go beyond music. And I may be a lone voice among the head bobbing hat and beard crowd tonight. But this is the emperor’s new bed sheet. A hideous confused bastard hybrid offspring of art school and old school. For the first time ever, I’m going to have to give nul points. Ok, maybe a half, just for the bush.

Intermission:

And breathe. Declaration of interest coming up: I love Liam Frost. No, not in that way. But having seen the young lad on dozens of occasions, solo, with the various shapes and sizes of The Slowdown Family and even with a record company rent-a-band, I am a definite (old) fanboy. 

His lyricism, his frailty, his beautiful playing. His bluff northern accent. His songsmithing. He has the whole package. But, for whatever reason, despite his ‘tipped for the top’ early industry enthusiasm, he failed to capture a bigger room of hearts than the Manc (nu)folk scene. A crying shame. But maybe, just maybe, given a couple of recent demos and even a stunning cover of a Frank Ocean song, more solo Mr Frost is on the cards.

Anyway, that’s largely immaterial tonight as we’re gathered her to worship at the altar of a new vehicle for Mr Frost and his Manc ‘supergroup’ buddies, the splendidly monikered TOKOLOSH.

TOKOLOSH ***** (Sound guy *****)

Having thankfully cleared the stage of leaves, weirdness and pretense (note to self, great prog album name), 5 down-to-earth looking lads take to the boards. But, talking of prog, it’s a stage that Caravan, ELP, Yes or The Nice would be happy with. Organs, banks of synths, wooden stuff, boxes of dials and flashing lights surround Mr Frost clutching his red semi acoustic centre stage.

And we’re off. Mercifully, back to live music. Proper music.

From the off, there’s a delicious tightness and real energy. But with a homely, raggedy edge. This is a poppy, rocky, country, indie, folky chowder with huge meaty chunks with delicate seasoning. Strong substantial, hearty flavours, subtle spices and surprising  ingredients. The most surprising of which is the dominance of keys.

In a world having recently veered back to guys (and girls) with guitars, it’s refreshing to see the humble keyboard taking a prominent position. But it’s important to point out, this is real keyboard playing. Not midi-triggered pads, sequencers, sampled loops, banal retro electronica (rearing its ugly head with awful momentum with 'cool' bands like Nightworks. Cringe.) Not bowel-evacuating dubsteppy sub wobs and brown notes: nope, this is the real deal. Not wandering triads; real playing. Fingers moving. Left and right hands doing different things. 

I joke about the prog, but there’s real and direct lineage from Iron Butterfly, Argent, Deep Purple, Moody Blues, The Doors and, of course Emerson Lake And Palmer on show tonight. Not necessarily in the actual music (no rambling 11 minute classically-infused wankfests here, thank the lord), but in the sounds, the vibe, the technique.

Saying that, there is a big BUT tonight. And a sad one. Both sets of  keys are so high in the mix, that it almost renders the rest of the band inaudible. I honestly don’t know what the sound engineer is up to. Initially, thinking it was a monitor spillage, I moved back but the keys were still far too dominant. To the end, it almost ruined a brilliant performance. Frost’s stunning voice was drowned out at times. His guitar reduced to an air-guitar prop.

However, what isn’t in doubt is the quality of both the songs and the performance. Being a newly hatched band, there’s not a huge collection to cull from, so all their publicly aired tuneage is on show tonight. And dazzlingly so. Highlights include the catchy and vaguely threatening Shapeshifter and the marvellous The Hollow. All performed flawlessly but not slavishly. 

Levels aside, this is a real hint of great things to come. TOKOLOSH are universal enough in appeal and genre to slot into shows across the board. Sitting (ironically, given all the electronic kit on show) comfortably at the acoustic side of things, but equally at home perched at the table of indie or even rock shows. There’s even enough originality and musical sophistication to share chambers with the alt rock brotherhood. Who knows, 2000 Trees or ArcTanGent could do a lot worse than getting these lads to do a turn. Just with a different sound guy.

Exciting, delicious and tantalising stuff. Can’t wait to hear what they come up with next. 

Here are a couple of their brilliant tunes. Enjoy: