Adolygiadau / Reviews
Meilir, Martin Dawes and The Drip Dry Man at the Absurd.
Review by MIKE ROBERTS
Following an unassuming stairway, hidden behind the babble of a busy evening bar room, followers of the Absurd were to be found candle lit, seated, crouched and kneeling as if a cloistered sect gathered in whispered secret. A studious silence celebrated the brief open mike reading. Ushered in the pool of snaking rope lights, a tall, slightly awkward figure, with unkempt black hair, wearing a tan suit common to the war years, Meilir, 27 years old Welsh singer songwriter from Cardiff folded himself amongst an array of worn and uniquely personalised instruments. Just when you think you've witnessed performers who are pathfinders and seers in their field, and have a pretty good angle, an act comes along and forces an entire rethink. Meilir, is a musician t hat falls into this category. An observer could find Meilir as eccentric, however this was part of his enigma, as his voice hung amongst simple melodies smudged in the attic rooms humid air. In contrast to the friendly atmosphere, Meilir intelligently described inmates held on an American death row for implausible offences. Though emphasising a line of non preaching, it was clear that the issue held significance in his value system. The power of this was reinforced by a stark poignant track made tangible by the actual plight of its subjects. Beautifully harrowing in its native tongue, Bydd Wych "Be Great", plodded an uneasy inevitable cadence, accompanied by a Kalibah thumb organ and the percussive affect of a tray of stones, concluded his set. Whether enigma, or eccentric, Meilir will hopefully be enchanting the audince at summer 2009 festivals.
Fresh from a same evening poetry workshop, Martin Dawes made is way to the stage to a talk show applause. Accompanied by the chiming Pastorius bass lines of Ben Tunnicliffe, Dawes embraces the persona of a modern poet. An accent that phased between Afrikaans and the home counties, held the audience through the sheer modulation of chattered onomatopoeic machine gun delivery to a gossamer breath lost in the ambient atmopshere.In an age of xfactor overkill, its reasonable ask if there’s still a place for Kerouac journals and tortured introspection. Very much an anti parody, Martin Dawes proves the longevity of beatnik performance poetry, and its panacea for a media numbed population. Drawing from his own past, the accessible narrative was complimented by harmonic phrases of pulsing jazz bass. Working head on with poetic cliché, the set journeys from caffeine staccato to a haunted lullaby, confirming that there remains an wonderful and abundant resource in the hillsides of North Wales.
If you've become desensitised by the procession of unimaginative generic indie rock that masquerades as "unsigned music", Aberystwyth band Drip Dry Man will be your antidote. With its roots in deep delta blues, DDM is gorgeously corrupt, visual impact shock rock.
Barked, contorted Cab Calloway vocals demand your attention like a demonic drill sergeant. The performance is sheer stage presence, even in the incongruous mood of the evening. Daubed clashing face paints, a bass player in a Russian respirator leer out, backed by a lab coated drummer dons welding goggles as a hooded keyboardist completes the circle. The tracks are immediate, organic and grinding, fusing rock, sex and fetish. If Drip Dry Man and the Amazing Glittrerdome are the calibre of talent nurtured in Aberystwyth, the mid wales seaside town needs some closer attention.
Redstripe at The Fricsan Pub, Friday 21st March 2009
Review by MIKE ROBERTS
You know when you’re in chilled out and atmospheric pub, when there’s a comfy well worn couch in the main bar, and the time stained autographs of satisfied visitors on the low ceiling. The Fricsan pub in the deep valley village of Cwm y Glo, gave a warm Spring Equinox welcome to the return of Anglesey good time ska reggae band Redstripe.
Crammed in, and at close proximity, the 12 piece unit worked methodically to set up their personalised equipment, and snaking leads. The best part of a gig sometimes can be the jumbled layers of sound check, as percussive keyboard strikes adjoin to the iconic flow of jazz trumpets. Beneath the babble of melodies, DJ fflyffilyfbybl aka Dewi Llwyd Evans of the Byd Mawr music collective, delivered a heartbeat pulse of synchronous bass that kept the band members grooving as they prepared.
Redstripe has seen a scaling down of their live output during the pregnancy of Lead singer Belinda, reunited with the band the happy mum was in full form as her pyrotechnic style had the tightly packed audience bouncing and cheering.
The audience was like a who’s who of the music and culture network in North Wales, with Vashti from Sometimes, Soracha from Poetica, Ceri from Bandabacana, Lhotse from Oxjam, and Djs form Byd Mawr mingled with new age traveller, ethnic, alternative, reggae music lovers of all cultures and ages.
In a time of over processed, quality control free guitar rock, Redstripe provides a refreshing tangent with a set of original ska reggae compositions. Fielding a personnel list of a dozen musicians, the band is the genuine article bringing with them a recipe of complimenting disciplines and textures.
As well as a new addition to the Redstrip e family, the positive effect of time out has been a new crop of new songs. Once initial feedback glitches and volume balances had been dealt with, fruits of time away from the stage “Reggae Cymraeg“, and “Dreadie Island” blended with Redstripe standard “Big in Holyhead” as if they had always been a part of the set list.
Parental duties saw a quick exi t from the stage of vocalist Belinda, and after a short intermission, a substitute warming up on the Redstripe sideline was called into play. Authentic afro reggae vocalist Nebs C took the band onto another level with a foot stamping ska rhythm. After a demanded encore Redstripe said goodnight like they had never been away, and looking forward to a return to active gigging.
