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Bin Laden’s Daughter At The Tunnels: Going Underground

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Dec 212012

On Friday December 14, The Tunnels played host to Bin Laden’s Daughter plus a generous selection of four support acts. Andrew Watson was in attendance to review for Aberdeen Voice.

My inaugural visit as a gig reviewer to The Tunnels could be described as time spent in a shite venue reviewing reasonably good bands.
Anyone who gigs regularly will tell you that, usually, venue quality ascends from the pits of The Tunnels, to Cafe Drummond, The Moorings and then The Lemon Tree. After that, you’re usually in the limelight in places like the Music Hall and the AECC.

The only place possibly worse than The Tunnels is Cellar 35. Not only is the sound crap in the latter, but there’s barely any room to move. Forget nonsense about intimacy and all that!

Anyway, enough bashing of The Tunnels because the sound wasn’t too bad this time round.

First up were Dead Hermit Peepshow, fronted by Obscenities guitarist Johnny Morrice:

Dead Hermit Peepshow are NOT a blues band. Blues was developed by black musicians. Goth was developed by musicians who dyed their hair black. Important distinction.

Yeah, a quirky lot they were. They were an engaging opening act, playing riffs a night crawler would probably use as a backdrop to a totally dastardly, though slightly comical, jewel heist – shifty eyes, and all! Even just the novelty of hearing headbanging guitar work played out on a semi-acoustic was enough keep punters interested. The crowd asked Johnny if the instrument in question was the one with the hole in it…

Erm, well it had an excellent varnished surface. Maybe a mahogany table put together with pinewood neck and cheese wire strings? Ironically, they’re best described as melding the lyrical mores of ‘goth’ bands like The Cure, spider-eating-me-for-dinner and all that, and well…the blues!

Certainly one number that stuck out, towards the end of the set, had the rhythm of the blues infused with the subversive, youth corrupting values of films like the The Rocky Horror Show. Did I tell you they also, complete with a corset-wearing woman sharing vocal duties with our Johnny, concluded with ‘Time Warp’? A sight to behold!

Next up were The Obscenities. Forgive this writer if he’s got slightly more insight into this band than the others, for he used to be the bassist! Anyway, currently touring their The Judge Is Guilty EP, they did what could only be described as blowing the door off the hinges. Debuting a much faster, more intense version of the aforementioned title track, they rocketed through their set with panache.

A lot of pent-up angst and frustration was particularly personified by the singer

The world of difference between a band that often ended their performances with this barnstormer, and this new-look line-up, was sizeable. The audacity to begin proceedings with this song paid off as the reaction surpassed anything they ever received from the punters when deploying this ‘finale’ previously.

Bry Parasite, switching from guitars to his first instrument, the bass, played with an almost overwhelming electricity on his overdriven four-stringer. New boy Johnny gave, to put it bluntly, a clarity to the six-string scratchings, originally penned by Bry, unseen until now. Put succinctly, the band were far more comfortable in their playing than they’ve ever been.

They flagged somewhat between the middle and end of the set, but recovered remarkably. Whether that can be put down to yours truly contributing bass on one of the tracks, I couldn’t possibly say!

Slave System came on afterwards, and were a band said to be performing for the last time. They had the mark of a band amidst an acrimonious swansong. A lot of pent-up angst and frustration was particularly personified by the singer and how he interacted with the guitarist, “No. You’re playing the wrong song,” etcetera.

Without doubt the focal point, the singer had an androgyny about him that was a cross between David Bowie and Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails. The guitarist was more like his glam rock foil: white jeans, cowboy boots, scarf. All very T-Rex. Or perhaps more like Bowie’s late axeman, Mick Ronson?

Truth be told, I wasn’t looking forward to this band. The last time I’d seen them was my last gig with The Obscenities, and they didn’t seem to have the courtesy to ‘blood’ their bass player properly. By that, I mean have mercy on them and let them gel into the band, before exposing them to the potential ridicule from an audience.

This is nothing to do with whether or not they only picked up a bass yesterday or the day before, but giving them sufficient time to absorb song structures and riffs. If you have the attitude that it’s ‘only’ the bass so-and-so’s playing, then your performance will suffer and it will be your fault, not theirs.

But I digress. Slave System now had yet another bassist, and, thankfully, he seemed to get right into the pocket rhythmically for most of the songs. It’s strange, though, how his difficulty with some of the material, probably sprung on him the night before, complemented the performance. The undercurrent bubbling away seemed to come to the fore, in an explosion of what could only be described as awkward. When he figured out what he was meant to be playing, the song kind of lost its magic!

Way up the fretboard, his high-register fills were a joy to watch

It was only venerable members of established instrument shops embarrassing themselves in drunken stupor that enhanced viewing pleasure during the rest of the Slave System set.

The main support act for the night, [ ], or Wall, are a powerful duo of drum and bass. The casual observer would probably draw comparisons to Death From Above 1979, though I’d say, bar overdriven and effects-laden bass, there’s slightly more to them than that. The sound they produced wasn’t too far off from the thump you’d hear in a club, yet the drummer was a powerhouse and very inventive. This belied the general focus upon brutality and rhythm, rather than melody.

When the bassist broke free from holding down three jobs – bassist, lead and rhythm guitarist – he was somewhat reminiscent of Chris Squire from prog-gods Yes. Way up the fretboard, his high-register fills were a joy to watch. If Chris Squire roared like a lynx, you’d get to somewhere approaching how this ace of bass sounded when he began introducing vocals to an almost entirely instrumental set.

Think Anders of In Flames before those death metal gods began toying with keeping with the times and, erm, nu-metal.

The front of the stage draped with a Palestinian flag, and lead singer resplendent in an emerald green IRA t-shirt, headliners Bin Laden’s Daughter looked every bit as controversial as they sounded. Though your erstwhile reporter was likened to a member of the National Front, he enjoyed himself as much as one could after such an accusation.

If I were a tad more self-conscious I wouldn’t have had any fun at all. Seeing as I couldn’t respond in affirmation of whether or not I was a Chelsea-supporting Head Hunter, what, with my track record of poking fun at sons of Rangers legends, my reputation as a fairly upstanding member of society remained intact!

However, my position as contributor to Aberdeen Voice is perhaps under threat due to my positive response that I was indeed a fan of The X-Factor. Well, if he can have a joke at my expense, why not vice versa?

All round, a good night!

Oh Myyy! – George Takei’s New e-book Reviewed

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Dec 142012

A few lucky souls got an advance copy of Oh Myyy! There Goes The Internet, George Takei’s latest literary offering. Aberdeen Voice’s Suzanne Kelly was one of them, and she’s very glad indeed.

Wielding his pen with the same flair Sulu wielded a rapier in Star Trek, the wit of George Takei cuts grammar Nazis, spammers, homophobes, trolls and other ne’er-do-wells down to size.

Is this book an updated biography? Is it a how-to manual on effectively using social media? A treatise on tolerance and equality? A history of the internet? A philosophical discourse examining issues such as collective intelligence?

Perhaps it is a compendium of memes found on the net that will make you laugh out loud?

Yes to all these, and then some, including an examination of our fascination with the end of the world, and… bacon.

Taking its name from the exclamation of surprise now synonymous with Takei, Oh Myyy! mixes pearls of wisdom with memes (those cute/funny/cringe-making photos and captions found on Facebook and other social media websites). One moment the reader is presented with offerings such as:

“Have we as a society forgotten the importance of satire in our cultural dialogue? Have we grown so afraid of offending that we no longer dare pose the hard questions, or even the easy ones?”

The next, he/she is laughing out loud (perhaps I should say ‘LOL’) at memes of cats or tweets directed to Schwarzenegger.

The book also charts Takei’s journey from his early Twitter forays to becoming the de facto centre of news and fundraising when the 2011 Japanese tsunami and quake hit. No one could have foreseen his meteoric rise as a presence in social media from his early tweets and posts, but his messages and Public Service Announcements have become viral sensations.

Whether tackling an increasingly-fundamentalist element of American politics and its anti-gay legislation proposals, or the insidious and insipid Twilight franchise, Takei sets out to entertain and educate us: this strategy is key to what he has achieved.

Takei is not infallible and is the first to admit this, for instance owning up to accidentally posting Facebook status updates meant for intimate friends which went world-wide instead.

One of the book’s recurring themes is his sense of social responsibility. While he wants to post items on his home page to make people laugh, he also genuinely wishes to help as many deserving causes as he can.

Recognised world-wide as a humanitarian (most recently launching an appeal for the people hit by hurricane Sandy), Takei has been decorated by Japan in recognition for services to Japanese-American relations.

He is heavily involved in his legacy project ‘Allegiance’ – a musical concerning his experiences as a Japanese internment camp detainee in America. Takei is recognised the world over for his work to bring about equality for LGBT people, notably taking to task high-profile homophobic American figures.

Takei survived early life ordeals (spent in part in an American internment camp for those of Japanese ancestry and subsequent poverty before the family recovered) going on to carve out an incredible acting career, fight successfully for his beliefs, help just causes, and entertain like no one else can on social media. I personally think the secret to his tenacity, endurance and success is his sense of humour, which is splendidly wicked.

In the book’s closing pages, Takei asks us to ‘dig a bit deeper on the pressing questions of the day’ and to ‘remember to keep things lighthearted so as not to take ourselves too seriously.’ Truer words were never tweeted. Finally, he describes himself as ‘laughing alongside you as the naughty gay Asian uncle you wish you had.’ Takei is that uncle for several million people the world over.

This collection of gems will repay your attention with laughs one moment and food for thought regarding social issues the next. Fans of Takei (over 3 million Facebook likes) will perhaps appreciate most the author’s winsome tone ringing true in every sentence.

A famous model once said: ‘I never read any books I haven’t written,’ a risible claim as it was well-known her novels were ghosted. Takei may have had some help from his husband, some interns and others – but these are his words and thoughts presented in his own inimitable style.

Takei writes that he is dazzled and inspired by our technological society; this is evident in the way he uses media and in how he writes. It is often hard to remember this is a 75-year-old man; his energy and enthusiastic embrace of technology should inspire people of all ages to push the boundaries of their skills, to learn, and to explore.

Note: in Aberdeen, Silver City Surfers are ready, willing and able to help older citizens get to grips with computers and the internet. Contact them here if you need help getting online: http://www.silvercitysurfers.co.uk/

The downside for some Aberdonians is that, while George once referred to Donald Trump as a douchebag, he now seems to think there is a side to the Donald that is willing to listen. Many local residents will agree with Takei’s first assessment.

Below is a link for buying Oh Myyy! There Goes The Internet. This is not a read for the humourless, easily offended grammar Nazi troll, but it is great fun for the rest of us. As one Amazon reviewer put it:

“I got the e-book a week ago in the pre-sell and have already read it through twice and have directed many of my friends to get it for themselves. You will not be disappointed! Why haven’t you stopped reading this review and clicked on ‘Add to Cart’? ;)”

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00AHP5NY6/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_il_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B00AHP5NY6&linkCode=as2&tag=ohmy0c-20

The pre-order copy has an extra chapter providing further insight into Takei’s world. This closes with the words: ‘May we Live Long and Prosper Together,’ a noble sentiment echoing Star Trek’s famous Vulcan greeting.

Live long and prosper together? If more people had Takei’s social conscience, enthusiasm, optimism, humour and energy, then I dare say we could do.

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King Creosote/FOUND At The Blue Lamp

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Dec 032012

Interesting Music Promotions celebrates its 250th gig with a stellar cast featuring King Creosote and Edinburgh noiseniks FOUND. Aberdeen Voice’s Pete Thomson grabs a seat in the front row.

As an outfit that’s been bringing classy if often obscure acts to Aberdeen as long as Interesting Music Promotions, we might have known they would conjure up something just a little bit special on reaching so notable a milestone. We are not disappointed. Tonight, legendary Anstruther troubadour King Creosote teams up with FOUND to bring their aptly-named Bits of Strange tour to the Blue Lamp.

With only 100 tickets on offer, queues outside 1-Up and crashed websites were the order of the day when they went on sale, but your correspondent’s cunning plan actually works for once and Parker rolls up in the limo nice and early on the night.

Once in the Lamp, we grab the best seats in the house and join a queue where we’re handed commemorative tote bags containing (don’t laugh) specially printed tea towels and a cd from KC’s extensive back catalogue. All included in the £25 ticket price.

King Creosote – Kenny Anderson to his mum – eventually wanders onstage, gives us a quick run through the evening’s schedule then picks up his acoustic guitar. We’re treated to a 4-song solo performance including a robust yet somehow delicate cover of Lone Pigeon’s I’ve Woken Up Love, the short set crowned with My Favourite Girl, one of Anderson’s finest moments.

The evening’s format is unusual in these piratic times. Following a concept first tried out by Anderson in 2009, the audience has been invited to record proceedings on mobile equipment.

The bar is closed for the duration of recording, the troubadour joined onstage by FOUND and he asks us to kindly refrain from applauding for the sake of the forest of microphones, laptops and other digital equipment that’s suddenly appeared.

Last time I saw FOUND, they were busy producing a maelstrom of noise at the science festival’s End of the World gig, and while I’m pretty sure mainman Ziggy Campbell is wearing those shoes for a laugh tonight, he’s never less than serious when he picks up his beloved semi-acoustic Rickenbacker.

The guitar features strongly as the ensemble rattles through a percussive Collector Of Mundane, then Anderson steps up and delivers Trigger Happy, I Am with a clear-eyed intensity that towers above the arrangement’s poppier leanings. This is Anderson at his most potent, drawing an audience in even if they’re not entirely sure what he’s singing at times.

Highlight of the first set is a fabulous electro-jaunt through Bats In The Attic. Far from the gently ambient version on Diamond Mine, Anderson’s Mercury-nominated collaboration with Jon Hopkins, it is tonight set against a seething backdrop of blips, bleeps and magnificent beats courtesy of sampler Kev Sim and Fence Records house drummer Captain Geeko.

At half time, each member of the audience is given a special nip glass to mark the occasion. Glasses for each of the four dates were individually designed and Aberdeen’s features a magnificent engraving of a Bon Accord lemonade lorry. How good is that? Even better, it comes filled with whisky for those who want it, a limited edition coming in at £150 a bottle, no less.

Thirsts suitably slaked, set two opens with Shallow Dive before eventually arriving at the wonderfully named Tits Up, a delicious confection of Byrds-style guitar and Kraftwerk-inspired electro – eight miles low, anyone?

Quiet and unassuming as he is, Anderson’s star shines bright. The rich Fife brogue in which he delivers his dry but always witty observations on the foibles of life and love is Scottish to the core, yet defies categorisation. His unique phrasing comes from that same well, and to these gifts you can add a soaring falsetto that elevates Anderson’s wry tales of betrayal and alienation to an altogether happier place.

The main event closes with The Be All And End All Of That to a huge reception, but the ensemble returns and meanders through a short but intriguing set including a Cait Le Bon cover and a driving version of She Means Nothing.

We can’t not mention bass player Tommy Perman who, with Geeko on drums, is sometimes all that’s holding things together, but Anderson chooses to close on his own with a spine-tingling medley of Spy Stick and Not One Bit Ashamed.

In such electrifying moments do we realise it’s in the performance itself Anderson meets his demons head-on, and one senses it might not be fanciful to suggest this is where he finds the strength to face the travails of which he sings with such passion.

Such is the ensuing uproar he’s not allowed to leave the stage, persuading his colleagues to return once more for a brisk two-chord run through Sinead O’Connor’s Emperor’s New Clothes.

It’s a bright ending to what has been a bit of a strange evening, unique and unforgettable. Many thanks to Interesting Music Promotions for setting it up – oh, and roll on the next 250!

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Sinister Shocks In Shiprow

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Nov 122012

Another horror film finds Voice reviewer Andrew Watson again, in his own words, ‘crapping his pants’ at Vue Cinema.

Scott Derrickson’s latest offering initially trundles along innocently enough as author Ellison Oswalt (Ethan Hawke) moves to a new house seeking inspiration for his next book. Ignoring the local sheriff’s advice about moving into the house, Oswalt finds a box of home movies in attic… yeah, it’s not so pedestrian from here on!

Five reels of film, dating from the 1960s to the present time, show grisly murder scenes with families snuffed out in all manner of creative ways.

Despite this movie being promoted as a supernatural horror, at first it seems all very real and far-removed from the paranormal. That creepy guy you catch glimpses of in the found reels just seems like a nutter in a mask… at first.

It is only after a while it begins to sink in that perhaps things aren’t so rooted in the type of horror often recounted in the tabloid press. This is also set against real phenomena like the author’s son Trevor (Michael Hall D’Addario) enduring night terrors in his sleep and being found in the back garden during these episodes.

When Trevor is found folding himself out of a cardboard box, his parents’ shock fades in the knowledge that similar things have happened before. Is the sleepwalking part of the boy’s night terrors, or are Exorcist-like bodily contortions at play?

It’s strange how the further a film seems to creep from reality, the more horrifying it can become. But this is how filmmakers tap into our deepest fears and it is only when we see the ghosts of children playing hide and seek with Ellison that we are 100% sure what kind of film we’re dealing with.

Let’s just say the face didn’t exactly look like your typical Halloween gimmick…

You might think knowing this would put us at ease, making further attempts at horror redundant, but the element of surprise is expertly deployed and the suspense keeps up right to the film’s finale.

When Ellison finally encounters the children face to face, the childish mischief of earlier disappears, the innocent veil of child’s play swiftly replaced with repulsion. I all but fall from my seat as Ellison tumbles from the staircase and I curse when I finally catch a close-up of the ‘masked’ man. Let’s just say the face isn’t your typical Halloween gimmick…

This last scene clinches my satisfaction with this morbid tale. In my eyes, any decent horror film has some link to religious mythology, preferably of the occult variety. Our man in the ‘mask’ turns out to be a pagan deity called Bughuul, or ‘eater of children’s souls’. Creepy stuff!

This film ticks all the boxes, and then some. Definitely recommended.

Film Review: Paranormal Activity 4

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Nov 062012

Returning to Shiprow’s Vue for a bit of horror, I actually found I quite enjoyed myself. Paranormal Activity 4 was a bit of a slow burner, meaning the last half hour was, hands down, the most intense period of the film, says Voice reviewer Andrew Watson.

I spent Hallowe’en watching a rented copy of Paranormal Activity 3, just to make sure I was clued up on what I was in for. PA3 is actually the prequel, so 4 beginss where 2 left off.

There’s been a kidnapping, and the whereabouts of the woman and child are seemingly unknown – until now.

I have to be honest and say outright that I cannot stand creepy kid films. You know the type – the various spawn of the Sixth Sense phenomenon.

I really enjoyed this film, however politically incorrect I feel I’d get with the film’s resident brat! I actually found myself reserving most of my ire for the ‘boyfriend’ of the film, a pervy chancer who I hoped would see an early end.

The film’s family find themselves babysitting the child of a new neighbour. Yep, the creepy kid.

His mother’s not feeling well and was taken away by ambulance, apparently. Their own son takes a shine to him, but finds himself dragged into realms of weirdness that wouldn’t be Hollywood if they weren’t evil. Sweet-natured Wyatt, played by Aiden Lovekamp, retreats into himself. So much so that he begins to insist his name is Hunter, the child kidnapped in 2!

Meanwhile, creepy Robbie (Brady Allen) doesn’t merely sit on the sidelines goading Wyatt to do his bidding. Why, he’s at it himself, sleeping with Wyatt’s big sister Alex (Kathryn Newton) while she lies there unaware! This scene is actually the catalyst for Alex and her boyfriend to attempt to unfurl the mystery of the weirdness going on.

You see, boyfriend Ben (Matt Shively) records their webchats. Or at least his computer does it automatically, so he says. Anyway, he comes a cropper when he sees this kid nestling up to his girlfriend. And so it goes until a rather messy ending.

There a few aspects about this series that merit some analysis I suppose. It’s shown in real time, meaning it takes much from the style in which The Blair Witch Project was recorded. We must assume this technique is deployed to give the film a sense of realism, a cinematic approach that increased my viewing pleasure.

Specifically, what I enjoy about this is the fact that big events throughout the film are thinly spread, not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, it adds to the realism. Real life is punctuated with infrequent seemingly-inconsequential events which nevertheless impact upon all our lives. In Hollywood, stories are punctuated with life-changing events that occur, seemingly and rather predictably, every two minutes.

Which is why I come back to the point of the last half hour of this film. It’s a wild thirty minutes, like a punch to the solar plexus. You’ve been caught unawares and now you’re crapping your pants trying to keep up with what’s going on.

Furthermore, there are murmurs throughout that a secret community, or covenant, is holding black masses. Ever since I watched The Last Exorcism, this concept has intrigued me. All I can say, or hint at, is that there are similar things going on in this film, particularly in the last two and a half minutes.

All in all – and I know the critics have panned this film – this is an excellent piece of cinema. I genuinely can’t wait to see what’s in store for Paranormal Activity 5.

007 Latest – Reviewer Neither Shaken Nor Stirred

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Oct 292012

This particular cinema outing, to Cineworld, proved the moviegoer’s maxim that ‘the trailers show all the good bits’. Skyfall isn’t a bad film, but all the excitement I experienced watching the trailer didn’t translate into the same, or similar, sensations during the film’s two hours and twenty-three minutes, says Andrew Watson.

Casino Royale was a fantastic Bond debut for Daniel Craig, although Quantum of Solace left me cold. His third Bond effort, fell somewhere between the previous two.

I enjoyed, particularly, how his character, though faithfully suave, was a grizzled agent, bordering on psychotic.

I know there have been grumbles, probably from the old school Bond-ers, that it’s becoming less about the gadgets and girls as it is about our beloved spy’s oh-so-complicated character.

This time round, bearing in mind the fallout from the previous film, Bond isn’t at his physical or mental best. Unknown to James, he’s failed his aptitude test as a field agent, and is displaying worrying dependencies on alcohol, among other substances.

This film seems to be driven by its characters, and the super-villain in this piece is no different. Think Jaws with half his jaw missing! It is, in fact, this dastardly ex-MI6 man, Raoul Silva, played by Spaniard Javier Bardem, top dog before Bond’s time, who reveals to James his lack of aptitude. Judi Dench’s ‘M’ lied to Bond, hurrying him back into the fold of spydom, just like she betrayed her previous agent all those years ago.

Don’t get me wrong, the locations and the ladies are something to behold, and the shots of China are particularly beautiful. ‘Q’, played by young gun Ben Whishaw, is also on hand with the latest in gun technology, though the sight of the classic Aston Martin DB5 far outshines anything new he has to offer.

The story, without reciting the plot verbatim, is relatively interesting, too. MI6 is under fire from the government after important information contained on a hard drive is stolen. ‘M’ is hauled before an Intelligence and Security Committee to answer to her superiors, who call into question the need for the fanciful and romantic notion of spies in a modern world.

Of course, what hooked me in the trailers was the explosion of the MI6 offices. The heart of British intelligence is rocked, but there appears to be little emphasis on this throughout of the film. Rather than being stripped to their bare bones and with limited resources, the explosion seems to have done little to dent MI6’s capabilities. Was the explosion overplayed in the trailers, and underplayed in the film? The bearing of this on the plot directly affected my overall enjoyment.

What also irked me somewhat are the circumstances surrounding the Scottish estate belonging to the Bond family. Whilst it’s conceivable that the Bonds were an English family which moved up north to James’s childhood home, it seems a bit ridiculous that the gamekeeper speaks with a rather implausible English accent.

Is attention to detail in this respect too much to ask for?

Zeppelin Celebration Day: Rolls-Royce Of Concert Films

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Oct 182012

For those who love Led Zeppelin, this film has been a long time coming. Was it worth the wait? Did it capture the concert as it was? Does it give the viewer the real taste of the legendary O2 concert? Absolutely. Suzanne Kelly reviews Celebration Day.

If you have the remotest interest in the fathers of all things metal, you have to see this film. It delivers the concert as it happened. I was one of the lucky 20,000 who managed to get a ticket to the O2 for the one-off Led Zeppelin concert (over 4 million people applied for tickets via the online email lottery), and I can honestly say I felt as if I were back at the O2 and that no time had elapsed between the movie and the concert.
The problem for most bands playing live let alone making a concert film is that a certain level of musicianship is essential. A concert film is going to capture for posterity any errors, wrong notes or bad musicianship; undertaking to do a concert film of a one-off concert is an act of bravery.

By way of illustration, one of the worst acts live I will ever see was the Scandinavian outfit, The Cardigans.

Their music was never very complicated, yet when they tried to play the Astoria some years back, they had to re-start one particular (otherwise wholly unmemorable) number three times. Every member of Led Zeppelin is a consummate, dedicated, hard-driven professional, and the years haven’t remotely changed this fact.

The sound mastering in this film is genius; even without the film to back it up, the soundtrack would assuredly be flying off the shelves on the release date, 19 November. This is as expected; Page’s standards in particular for delivering sound are unrivalled.

The pressure on all the acts performing on the night was immense. Pressures included the fans and their expectations; the desire to give a fitting tribute to Ahmet Ertegun, the man behind the iconic Atlantic Label; the movie being made and so on must have been an immense weight to perform under. As Jones told a German interviewer earlier this week, the first thing they said to each other after the show was ‘We did it.’

The certainly did.

There was much speculation what the first song would be; it was in the end ‘Good Times Bad Times’ – the first track on the first side of their first album, fittingly enough. The film takes you through the concert song by song just as it happened. Visually there are nods to the earlier (and shall we say ‘quirkier’) Zeppelin film, ‘The Song Remains The Same’. Special effects from that earlier work are gently given the nod, particularly in some of Page’s solos.

Perhaps the best thing for me is the film’s close-ups of his unequalled solos. I could single out work during ‘In My Time of Dying’ or ‘Dazed and Confused’ as personal favourites, but every bit of Page’s solos are blistering. When not in frenzied guitar attack mode, the film captures the spectrum of his work from ice cold blues (opening of ‘Dazed’) to triumphant pure rock (‘Rock and Roll’ – an encore).

Robert Plant in some ways had the most pressure on him of the four. He had to relate to and engage with 20,000 fans as well as turn in as flawless a vocal performance as possible. You can tune guitar and keyboards, but achieving vocal perfection is another matter. Plant’s voice was required to span quite an octave range and sustain notes for longer than most of us can even hold our breath. Performing this repertoire was a very tall order.

Verdict: complete success on all counts. Whatever it is Plant had in his 20s, he’s still got it now.

They say an army marches on its stomach; complex, layered metal with intricate time signature changes is reliant on a rock solid rhythm section. They said in the past that John Paul Jones was part man,part metronome, and part god; I’ll give him that. One minute he’s finishing a bass performance, the next instant he’s playing the introduction to ‘No Quarter’. This film has in Jones the best all-round, most versatile rockstar musician of our (or any) age captured perfectly, as he turns in a perfect turn. Jones is one of the reasons this band was far more than the sum of its parts. If the word ‘gestalt’ hadn’t existed before Zeppelin, it would have had to be coined because of them.

It was very pleasing that the film’s creators devoted many frames to Jones; it was well deserved. Likewise was the attention paid to original percussionist John Henry Bonham’s son, Jason. Jason Bonham was amazing, and the camera has caught moments of his performance that you just couldn’t see well enough on the night.

Words fail me – everyone who cares about Zeppelin (dare I say loves them?) missed John Bonham – but it was fitting his son got this coveted percussion role – and the son did his father proud.

This is the quintessential metal / rock / blues / innovating act of our time captured honestly and if you don’t mind the word ‘vibrantly’ in their brilliant final performance. It does what it should do, and if you are of the Led Zep loving set, you gotta see this movie.

Note to the woman who I stopped from taking photos of the screen during the show.

You were astonished and asked ‘why not?’ as to why it was wrong to make any recordings/take pictures. I don’t care if you wanted pictures for personal reasons or to share – you quite simply don’t have the rights to a piece of work people spent years creating. Your £10 ticket was for looking at the show.

Note to everyone:

Please buy the official product when it comes out – and help the music and film industry which are suffering – definitely from piracy. It might not be the top stars who suffer financial crunches caused by free sharing of product – but there is a whole long list of people behind the scenes who are going to suffer if people don’t pay for product.

No, this isn’t a very popular line to take – that’s fine with me. But remember the fifth member of Led Zeppelin who sadly is no longer with us: the best manager in the world ever, Peter Grant. Grant fought long and fought hard for musicians to be treated well and paid well. There is a memorable scene from ‘The Song Remains the Same’ in which Grant confronts people selling illegal/unauthorised merchandise; Grant says sarcastically and angrily

“as long as there’s an extra nickel to be drained by exploiting Led Zeppelin, that’s fine…” (with a few choice expletives thrown in).

It is because of Grant that Led Zeppelin didn’t suffer the fate of many American blues and Motown artists and writers, who died in poverty. Thanks to Mr Grant, and I’m glad themusic industry gives out a Peter Grant manager award marking his achievements.

Looper? Super, Says Voice Critic

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Oct 082012

There are three films I’ve really enjoyed this year, all seen at Vue. Prometheus comes tops, easily, along with Batman: The Dark Knight Rises, an unexpected surprise for me. And then there’s Looper. So says Andrew Watson who mans the Voice celluloid review desk this week.

Looper is a mind-bender, with a script that twists and turns to its conclusion I will try to do its complexity justice without giving away too much of the plot, to help give you the will to stick with it until the very end.
Joe, played by Dark Knight Rises actor Joseph Gordon-Levitt, ekes out an existence as a mercenary of sorts.

He obliterates, from point-blank range, mob hits teleported from the future into the present and is more of a dispatcher than mercenary. He disposes of the bodies and therefore any evidence connecting his criminal employers with these disappearances. One of the corpses is actually Joe’s future self, played by Bruce Willis!

Very early on, I was quite impressed. Maybe I’m a bit dim in this respect, but I was honestly trying to see where Bruce Willis’s character would fit into the storyline. Joe seemed like the bad guy in the trailers, but would he turn out to be the cold-blooded killer, albeit complete with three-dimensional, if not redeemable, traits?

Thankfully, there are varying degrees of good and bad between his present and future selves; neither character, as the scales weigh alternatively up and down throughout the film, seems dastardly enough to make such judgements anything but a close call. All part of the film’s complexity.

All films need lighter moments and Looper has them. Jeff Daniels, best known to me for Dumb & Dumber, plays head minion Abe, who only lords it over Joe and company in the present because his superiors in the future have positioned him there. He doesn’t quite convince in displaying the menacing aspects of his character and is perhaps deliberately cast in the role for that reason, funny being something he does well.

His poor son, some slack-jawed paragon of ineptitude with a large gun, acts as his foil in a way you’d think Daniels’ comic sparring partner of yesteryear, Jim Carrey, could just about replicate. Both, particularly Daniels, are reminiscent of the perennial jobbing actor, desperate to avoid being bullied into typecast roles over and over again.

How can actors like John Goodman, for example, play roles like badass black market gun dealers in Kevin Bacon’s Death Sentence when they’ve already starred as Fred Flintstone? Probably not Goodman’s finest performances, but certainly the two I seem to remember.

Looper also tackles the fate versus freewill argument

I suppose, paradoxically, that the little comic nods here and there give a sense of reality, despite the film being way, way into the realms of science fiction.

Life’s not all doom and gloom, and we don’t inhabit a world where people want to be super-serious and watch films like Inception all the time.

Don’t get me wrong, that’s a fine film but my only reservation about Looper was that it would surely just be another Inception? There are similar, intertwined aspects in both films, but, thankfully, another Inception it isn’t.

Rounding off my attempt to sell you this film, I feel you should know that thematically it tackles some of my favourite subjects, including the nature versus nurture debate. There’s a chosen one in the film too and Looper also tackles the fate versus freewill argument. Is it destiny to save or wreck humankind, or can conscious efforts be made to change a supposedly inevitable future? The way these two issues are conflated appealed to me immensely.

On the other hand, some of the dialogue is clunky. Swearing should be an art form, not something thrashed through by tongues of unthinking thespians, and there’s a Freudian slip by the scriptwriter implying accidental incest. I’ll let you weather that storm, one of many, lateral and literal; yet one of few that’s aesthetically offensive to the filmgoer’s eye.

Resident Evil – The Latest Instalment Reviewed

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Oct 082012

Resident Evil: Retribution, on release at Aberdeen’s Vue Cinema, has its moments, but, latterly, seems to descend into realms of the ridiculous, a departure from the franchise’s previous four outings, writes Andrew Watson.

I hesitate to describe it as a saga, because this film is principally a money-making exercise; one which doesn’t seem to have the decency to stay even remotely faithful to the B-movie but superbly intriguing plots which unfold on your computer screen.
However, this is the most successful and highest-grossing video-game-to-silver-screen adaption ever and one should expect consistency with the four other films in the series.

In that sense, Retribution delivers – plenty of stunts, swords, goring, guns, beasties, beauties and a good dose of apocalyptic foreboding.

The strikingly and unusually beautiful Milla Jovovich plays Alice, a former employee of the Umbrella Corporation who sets her sights on nemesis Wesker, a man to whom, in a perplexing sense, she is grateful. In the previous film, Afterlife, he has injected her with an antidote to the zombifying T-virus that reverses her superhuman abilities. Her chemical and physical reaction to the biohazard is a miracle in the story’s scope of modern medicine yet it helps her become and feel more human. Awww….

Films aren’t films without twists, though, and Alice, captured by Umbrella for the umpteenth time, finds herself in a compromising position which necessitates the help of Wesker, who, since Afterlife, has severed ties with the company. Not exactly the most trusting person at this juncture, Alice resigns herself to a fate in the hands of the perpetual and proverbial devil’s advocate. And so it goes, until the end. Let’s just leave it at that.

When the plot sags, when eyelids are drooping, when your boredom-dependent insanity is fighting and winning against every other impulse in mind, body and soul, the moments of comic relief somehow bring clarity to vision. Without sufficient prescription of hilarity, you’ll be as well signing up for the T-virus and becoming a zombie yourself. Because let’s face it, you are one in all but name

Did this film deliver laughs, then?

To be honest, the film wasn’t that bad. Believe it or not, this film tricked me into believing it really was absolute crap, rather than decidedly average, and that’s why I’m giving this film a kicking!

You see Michelle Rodriguez already died in the first film. So what the hell was she doing in this, four sequels later, and not as a rotting corpse? “Hah, bet they’re running out of money; using the same actors and actresses to play different characters,” I deducted.

Er…no.

Perhaps giving away too much, even about a bad or decidedly-average film, is unfair, but when a kid, knowing glint in the eye – OK, that last part isn’t true – tells Michelle’s character that her sister isn’t a particularly nice person, you know you’ve been hoodwinked.

Audience? Laughing. Me? Scraping the egg off my face.

The only thing funnier than this, though, is the ending. An ending, tragically, delivered in all seriousness. Think Resident Evil 6: Dungeons, Dragons & Castles.

Seriously, though, if you want an action film with big dollops of horror thrown in the mix, you’ll probably enjoy it. I enjoyed it in that sense. However, if you’re somehow hoping for an overhaul of an already-established franchise, one which has resolved to undo all past wrongs in one fell swoop, and with sublime attention to detail of the video game series, then you can forget about it.

Brassy Sassy Classy Mardi Gras-y

Aberdeen City, Featured, Information No Responses »

Sep 072012

‘Such a night….’ sang New Orleans giant of voodoo, Dr John. Indeed it was. Voice’s David Innes reports from The Blue Lamp where The Night Tripper’s fellow Crescent Citizens Meschiya Lake and the Little Big Horns sang, blew, rattled and Lindy-hopped their way into a packed Lampie’s hearts.

The loch that gave the street behind the Gallowgate its name is long gone, yet it seemed that a little of Lake Ponchartrain’s warm muddy waters had seeped through the antique brickwork of a beloved venue that has seen its fair share of memorable shows. This was among the best.
Sandwiched between a rousing swing opening treatment of Miss Otis Regrets and a hectic, passionate encore Hey Good Lookin’ – Hank sure never done it this way – was a mesmeric aural and visual performance of blues, swing, jazz and a dozen minor genre request stops on the way.

Meschiya’s presence is remarkable. Surrounded by a band of stellar players, all eyes are drawn to her. Yet there are no shape-throwing histrionics; her visual and vocal dominance alone fill and control the room.

She has a voice of considerable power, but it is not all gritty blues shouting, although Electric Chair Blues was a particular highlight. She croons, purrs, testifies and, in Lucky Devil, confides, ‘I am no angel, my wings have been clipped…I’d like to burn with you’. I suspect that this is what Julia Lee shows were like.

And the Little Big Horns? These are remarkable players, all seated but leader and sousaphonist Jason Jurzak, who wore his instrument like a boa constrictor, its halo-like horn offering an alternative visual attraction as it towered leviathan-like over the band, its operator blowing bottom end tones as a subterranean bedrock.

Whilst trumpet, saxophone, clarinet and acoustic guitar enmeshed as accompaniment for Meschiya, they each took regular passionate diaphragm and finger-straining solos. These are artists at the top of their game and visibly savouring every joyous moment.

Out front, Lindy Hoppers Chance Bushman and Amy Johnson jived and jitterbugged, tapped, strutted and danced what looked like sensuous-heavy variations of the tango, occasionally bringing in the singer who demonstrated that her feet are as talented as her larynx. This wasn’t a gig, it was a show, a monstrous show.

That the normal placid Aberdeen audience roared its appreciation gives measure of the reception this ensemble demanded and which seemed genuinely to astound them. Trumpeter Ben Polcer asked, in obvious bewilderment at one inter-song reception, ‘Are you ALWAYS this fired up on a Tuesday night?’ It wasn’t quite Mardi Gras, but it was Mardi, Ben.

They have promised to return. Start queuing now.

With thanks to Loudon Temple http://www.brookfield-knights.com/ and Vocoustic Promotions http://www.vocoustics.com/

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