Wild Beasts @ The Liquid Rooms 14/11/11

It is really quite difficult to describe Wild Beasts’ sound to any one who hasn’t heard a few of their tracks. They are Indie and you

Wild Beasts, courtesy of The Guardian

can dance to their music like a crazy person, but they aren’t pop, and they aren’t very rock’n’roll either. There are keyboards involved, but it would be wrong to say synth, and electronica is a little too far out on the left field. Both lead singer and guitarist Hayden Thorpe and singer and bassist Tom Fleming are more than able to carry a tune. Thorpe’s whining tenor cuts over and above the deep throb of the music like a knife, while Fleming’s powerful and passionate baritone creates a dark undercurrent running through the music. However, their style is as much a contradiction as a compliment to the other. They shouldn’t work as a band: Thorpe sounds like he has maybe just been kicked and slightly petulant, while Fleming’s gravelly operatic tones could be mistaken for Antony Hegarty from a distance. And yet, there is that shared sleazy sexiness that marries the two together so well.

That sleaze laced through with dangerous sex appeal oozes throughout their music. Each song has a prominent bass line, adding to the feeling of sensuality and vulnerability. With lyrics ranging from “I take you in my mouth like a lion takes it’s game” (‘Lion’s Share’), to the even more disturbing lyrics of ‘She Purred, While I Grred’, Wild Beasts seem unafraid to push the boundaries of normal masculine sexuality. The lyrics continually reference violent and often unsettling encounters with women, and yet the music is strangely exciting, and incredibly infectious. Their innocuous hipster boy look belies the skill and depth of their musicianship and the provocative quality of their lyricism.

Having seen Wild Beasts once before at Glastonbury this year, I was looking forward to a more intimate performance, although I hadn’t quite appreciated the full extent of ‘intimate’ in this context. On a smaller stage the band excelled themselves, galvanising the crowd into a frenzy of dancing feet and pumping fists. An excellent act to see live, you can’t help but feel energised and excited by their music. Every single member of the band looks thrilled to be playing for you, and there is little more that an audience can ask than to feel wanted.

Wild Beasts have the potential to take their sound much further, and if they continue to push the boundaries of a normal masculine sexuality identity then they will certainly attract a lot of attention. I urge you to take a chance on Wild Beasts: don’t just write them off as another Indie rock act aping the Eighties. This band might be the best you have never heard of.

Patrick Wolf’s Lupercalia @ The Liquid Rooms 22/10/2011

There is something indescribably sensual about Patrick Wolf. The sloping glide across the stage, the spray-on skinny jeans, the sequins, the coy and triumphant smile playing on his eternally boyish features. He possesses that great innate quality of all great front-men: the ability to captivate an audience with so little as a flick of the hair or a twist of the hand. Having already seen Wolf at Glastonbury (the second best performance of my festival weekend, and I went to about 35), I was excited by the idea of Wolf in such a small and contained venue. A chance to get a little more up close and personal, shall we say. But how would he react to the sheer proximity of the audience packed into this tiny little venue? He is, after-all, an internationally renowned musician able to command a far larger space in his hometown of London. Would he play as if he just didn’t care enough?

Lupercalia cover, courtesy of http://www.patrickwolf.com

Wolf did not disappoint. The concert was a dedicated performance of his latest album, Lupercalia, a slightly more mainstream offering from this prolific musician. The album is an homage to disco-pop, with a sound that is reminiscent of The Cure’s old forays into the pop music market with songs such as ‘Friday I’m In Love’ and ‘Mint Car’. Despite the seeming departure from his earlier more melancholic style, Wolf has managed to make the transition to a happier and more positive sound without losing any of the power of his lyrics or the infectious quality of his songs.

On stage, Wolf threw himself into the performance with an energy and enthusiasm that was dazzling to watch. With three costume changes – all featuring progressively larger amounts of taxidermy accessories – he is a theatrical and confident performer. Proving his talent as a musician, throughout the performance Wolf went between a piano, viola, harp and, briefly, a dulcimer, never allowing his look of cool and dramatic composure to slip. Vocally, he is a highly original singer, with an unusually deep and powerful voice that belies his slight frame. The power behind his voice lends the music something quite special, enhancing its qualities and making the performance just that little bit more thrilling.

The only low point of the night for me was ‘The Gypsy King’, a song written when Wolf was 18 and on the train back to London having played his first ever gig in Edinburgh. The song features on Wolf’s second album, Wind in the Wires, which, though an excellent album as a whole, has a remarkably different sound in comparison to Lupercalia. The song was a little out of place then, but what it really made me realise was how far Wolf’s song writing abilities have progressed since his early days as a musician. The lyrics seemed immature and childish next to the sleek and polished finesse of Lupercalia’s ‘Time of My Life’, or ‘This City’.

Highlights of the performance were ‘Magic Position’ and ‘This City’, both guaranteed crowd pleasers and two of the few songs that the crowd actually knew and therefore could belt out at the top of their voices. The atmosphere in the venue was buzzing with excitement and an infectious energy, everyone proclaiming Wolf’s genius despite having only just listened to more than a few songs of his music. When most of the audience have come on the back of a few songs heard on the radio, it is a testament to an artist’s ability to not only satisfy the craving for these few songs, but to also fully convert them to the music and have them leave brimming with the excitement of their new discovery.

It is always a slight surprise to me that hardly anyone north of the border, or indeed, north of London, has heard of Patrick Wolf. One of the UK music scene’s best kept-secrets, Wolf has been covertly recording albums for nearly ten years, earning him a coterie of dedicated followers and little popular recognition. Whatever mainstream success Lupercalia brings him is well-deserved. His tireless and often largely unnoticed effort into developing his singular style has hopefully paid off, and I can’t wait to see what direction he decides to throw himself at next.