Where my head is at musically in the year of the future: twenty oh eight.

Right now I’m really looking forward to the 100th anniversary of Olivier Messiaen. The Southbank Centre has a bunch of concerts this year showcasing his work and I’m definitely going to at least Des Canyons aux etoiles and Turangalila-symphonie which the Southbank describes as “requiring an orchestra of colossal dimensions and a large array of tuned percussion”. I’ve got no idea who goes to modern-classical concerts but I guess I’ll find out.

On a similar-ish tip I’ve been listening to some Terry Riley recently and marvelling at how much he worked like a Hiphop producer in the 1960s. Ten years later Miles Davis was busy being a Hiphop producer too and that period has just been covered by an exhaustive box-set “The Complete on the Corner Sessions”. Covering sessions for the phenomenal “On The Corner” and “Get Up With It” (and also “Big Fun”) the six discs mark an unbelievable stretching of musical boundaries for the early 70s. Heavy looping psychedelic funk but with personel capable of soloing some profound and beautiful shit on top.

I read a crazy rant by Julian Cope the other week about how Miles retired for five years after completing these sessions, not because he’d hit a dead end (as the Jazz critics would have you believe) but rather because he’d reached some kind of musical nirvana. It kind of works for me. Being any more ahead of his time would have had him making music from a time after his own death, which is some Marty McFly shit I’m sure the world couldn’t have coped with.
For me this box represents the greatest achievement of Miles The Bandleader. Nothing else sounds like it and best of all when you pull the book/cd wallet out of the metal case you can see all drawing and that on the INSIDE of the box!

Another thing that’s in my head is the prospect of Goodie Mob reforming and recording together. They were interviewed at an Atlanta radio station together last November, laughing and joking with their international superstar Cee-Lo.
This isn’t that exciting to the world at large. They’d probably rather have another Gnarles Barkley album. It ought to be though. Goodie Mob are the best. Outkast are the best but Goodie Mob are the best too. They’re the Gospel and Soul to Outkast’s Blues and Rhythm. What those two bands have created in the last fifteen years, with direction from Organized Noize and with help from the extended Dungeon Family, is the most important modern music to me. The finest direction for music to be travelling in.
I love me some “Hey Ya” as much as the next guy, and “Crazy” is cool and all but the world needs some “Distant Wilderness”, some “Hootie Hoo” and some “I Didn’t Ask to Come”. I’m forever finding myself on discogs, correcting little things on Dungeon Fam releases and adding obscure Organoid 12″s that I pick up along the way.

This is where my head is at. Actually another section of it is lost in Harcore/Jungle right now as I copy my 12″s onto iTunes. “Ruffige” by MA1 (DJ SS), “Boyz” by A Bedroom In Hackney, “Let’s Go (Remix)” by Potential Bad Boy and “In Effect” by DJ Red Alert & Mike Slammer. These mind-blowing experiments in rhythm are fifteen years old and fifty years in the future. Maybe it’s not even our future but the future of some never-happened West-African global empire that colonised East London.

I’m trying to equip myself with the means and knowledge/understanding/ignorance to make some futuremusic of my own. Something I can be proud of, or at least something to free me from the torment of not having tried. All these musics are in mind as I try and get closer to that music. Cross fingers.

Being that I was born in 1981 I didn’t get to see any of the great soul shows of the 80s. I will never see the SOS Band fill a stadium. I will never see Michael Jackson leaping onto a speaker stack or crying on stage (well I might see him cry on stage, but not for the right reasons). I can go and see the Zapp band play to 60 people in a tiny venue but I really want to see them in the Oakland Coliseum with a crowd of housewives and teenagers.

Seeing Justin Timberlake live, all minstrelsy issues aside, is the closest thing to the Bad World Tour available today. Not that Justin has the voice or the songs that Michael had. He doesn’t.
He has though got a very likeable stage manner, making the 20,000 capacity O2 Arena shrink and expand when he steps on and off the stage. With the lights up the new (first actual) use for London’s Millenium Dome looks huge. An American, basketball style arena with nosebleed deck and plenty of executive boxing, a solo artist in the round ought to be lost. An ant with a spotlight. Your Timberlake, alternating between sitting at the piano and excercising his particular brand of choreography is a big target on stage. Helped by an excellent set, his face blown up onto giant retracting curved screens, and fluid interaction with his troup of dancers, his performance manages to feel personal and relaxed whilst obviously being the product of boy-band trained discipline, perfectionism and a large budget.

The live band he has are excellent. An all black team, mostly of a certain age. Old enough to be able to play like 1983 but young enough to not balk at translating Timbaland’s computer music to their instruments. One drummer on the constant beat, the other indulging in a wall of percussion options or doubling up for the BIG beats. The backing singers were a definite crowd favourite. I’ve noticed a trend of them starting to dance again. I see this as heralding a new, moreglorious era of live music.

On record the best thing about Timberlake is Timbaland. A man who has put his relentless creativity into some very dead ends before (Ginuwine, Magoo), his presence on this tour speaks volumes for the fruitfulness of his work with Justin. He should have been this big with Aaliyah, and given an extra year possibly would have been. He made sure to remember her in his hype-man session during Justin’s interval. Put your “A”s up. It was nice to see Tim drumming out beats on stage, contrived as it was with most of the music coming from his DJ, Freestyle. Tim did an impressive job of keeping the crowd up while Justin powdered his nose or whatever and contributed big smiles, a bit of Hiphop and a fur coat to their two biggest numbers “Cry Me A River” and “Sexyback”. We thought Nelly Furtado might pop up for a couple of songs as she was in town this week, but it wasn’t to be.

Justin’s slow jams, which I usually skip, sounded pure 80s when played live. “Until The End Of Time” especially made me check the record again when I got home. It’s the type of great, simple ballad Timbaland has been coaxing from RnB artists for the last 15 years. On stage it sounded like R. Kelly backed by Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, the band all suited up, the drummer hitting the chimes. A fine cheese.

The highlights of his last album, the production genius of “My Love” and the outros of “What Goes Around” and “Lovestoned” rained down on those of us standing in the round, like synthy hail. They could have packed a few more people into the standing area to beef up the atmosphere but then my trips to the bar and the toilet wouldn’t have been so shockingly quick. The unoccupied bar staff were craning over the bar to get a glimpse of the stage or an echo of their favourite song. If you go and see 80s soul acts now, you’ll see them in a small venue, with a distinct vibe of “no one cares” and an audience of music types. The great thing about seing Justin Timberlake doing his take on 80s soul with Timbaland’s take on Jetsons Hiphop, is that everyone is so fucking pleased to be there, and the music is good.

Complaints? Don’t have any. As much as I’m inclined towards being sour about dudes that sing, dance and get all the girls, he really is very good at this pop star shit.

Fuck Hiphop shows. Seriously. I’m not going to any Hiphop shows any more.

The Clipse are the best Hiphop group out. Their album “Hell Hath No Fury” was the best Hiphop album of last year. By far. Seeing them live now ought to be comparable to seeing Public Enemy in 89 or Wu-Tang in 94.

Their show at the Shepherd’s Bush Empire last night was the worst concert I have ever been to.
The sound was terrible. Bad mic levels are a standard at Hiphop shows, they only really work if you know all the words already, because you’re not gonna catch them live. Malice shouted all of his rhymes, Pusha shouted all of his rhymes and most of Malice’s aswell.
Listen to a Clipse record. They don’t shout. Their whole persona is of dudes that don’t shout. They are inscrutably controlled and cold in their deliveries. Like Mobb Deep on “Shook Ones”, they do not make shouting music. I guess rap has to be shouted live, right? I mean everyone else does it, being the best group out shouldn’t mean you have to do things any different. Should it?

The music though…
The Empire has a decent sound system. I saw Ghostface there a few years ago and while the show was spoiled by the vocal interference of too many crew members, the sound was pretty good. All the beats sounded great.
With the Clipse we’re talking about impeccably engineered, sparser than sparse, Neptunes beats, played on vinyl over a sound system. We’re not talking about mic-ing up a thirty piece orchestra, they had Harry Love playing some instrumentals. It should have been easy. It sounded terrible.

About 20 minutes into the set I went off to have words with the soundman. I leaned over the booth until I got the dude’s attention and shouted “this sounds fucking shit” at him. He goes “Yeah I know, I’m just doing the lights” so I went round the other side to find the soundman. Rappers are forever berating the soundman, mostly to get their mics turned up (bad idea). Clipse didn’t mention the bad sound, they seemed oblivious. It would have been a bit rich if they had been blaming the soundman, since they didn’t turn up for a sound check. They apparently sent one dude (Ab Liva?) to do a mic check, for which he didn’t even come out on stage. Well done. The support, Kidz In The Hall, who did turn up for the sound check, had perfectly good sound, compounding the laziness of Clipse’s set.

Malice had a somewhat compelling intensity on stage but his brother seemed to be equal parts shouting and disinterest. Going through the motions of what must be a pretty long tour by now but trying to cover it by saying some words REALLY loud.

The arrival of “Keys Open Doors” managed to punch through my pissed off mood a bit. It is the best recent Hiphop song, from the best recent Hiphop album, from the best current Hiphop group. It ought to punch through a bad mood, but by the time Malice (the best rapper out, remember) got to his verse the energy had gone again. Too much bad sound for a group so polished on record (they had shitty feedback throughout two whole songs). Too little finesse from a group so careful in their writing and so calculating in their delivery.
I know “them crackers weren’t paying fair Jive” and the album tanked despite universal acclaim but if you’re going to tour for your money, you better tour a show worth seeing. Last night’s show was not.

The world of live music is thriving whilst the recorded music industry loses money. There are more and larger concerts, festivals and tours than ever but Hiphop is getting left behind. Most shows in London don’t sell out, regardless of the venue and this is not because Hiphop artists don’t sell here, it’s because everyone says Hiphop shows are shit. I’m done disagreeing with them.

Oh and Malice’s chain looks a lot like a Jim’ll Fix It medal:

Saw Girls Aloud at Wembley Arena last weekend.
Rather than review the show I’ll review the individual performers.

From left to right, using official titles where appropriate.

Cheryl Cole
Looks nice (bit unwashed) in photos. IRL looks like a chicken wing that you got to the barbecue too late to enjoy. Gnawed. Good geordie accent when she spoke to the crowd. Musically flat and nothing to shake, she has all the enthusiasm of a reluctant whore in a brothel that bought her from her family at age 8, for seven sheckles. Might perhaps want to pursue a different career.

The scouse-looking one
Really impressed. Had no regard for her beforehand but she was both the most genuine and down to earth woman on stage and also the most accomplished performer. Benefits immeasurably from having a womanly enough figure to be visible dancing in front of nine thousand people. She’s a good dancer too and even smiles on stage !!!1!!

The blokey one
Top marks for being up for it and seeming to have noticed the nine thousand adoring fans. Not sure of her musical contributions but her shouting and mexican wave marshaling were endearing.

The not so attractive one
Superfluous throughout, she didn’t make any impression singing, dancing or pouting and she looked bored. Bored I tell you. May have to change her name to “the one that ought to retire”. Maybe she’s dynamite in the studio…

The singer
Sings all the bits that don’t sound like karaoke. Seemed awfully self important. REALLY couldn’t dance, which is bad when you’re surrounded by large gay pro dancers stealing the limelight. Her lack of charisma came across as genuine contempt for the crowd, except perhaps when she spoke in her excellent Irish accent which made her sound all nice and cuddly, something she is patently not.

The stage show included a gang of costume changes, two very 80s towers for buff dudes to dance on, a section where the girls all sat in a giant swing while singing a ballad and a finale that started with them in beds. Seeing the five girls in beds in a row felt more anorexia-rehab-dorm than sexy boudoir but I appreciated the effort. Extravagant stages are the best thing about pop shows. Other people’s photos.

We arrived so fashionably we not only missed the (undoubtedly appalling) support, we actually missed the first six songs of Girls Aloud’s set. Happily they did “The Show” as an encore, a tune so good I might actually listen to it at home, if I had it, which I don’t.

In return for attending this concert I think I now have someone to see Om with in July. Next up is Clipse in the Bush on the 21st.
Increase the peace.