Issue 33 / May 2013

34 Bido Lito! May 2013
Reviews
one female admirer. “This one’s for you, then,”
he beams, and launches into Future Wives.
Several of King Creosote’s recent albums have
been vinyl-only releases available only at his
shows. With this DIY folk philosophy closest to
his heart, one feels he would probably be happy
to hand-carve the sleeves out of oak panels.
Bearing comparison with various Scottish
troubadours, at times he recalls the sincerity
of folk master Dick Gaughan, and even a touch
of Billy Connolly on the sing-along innuendo
of “Dum De Dum De Dum”, but where King
Creosote differs most from ‘proper’ folk artists is
in the technical skills he can deploy. Rarely does
he attempt anything other than a rudimentary
flatpicking style. Like that other alt-strummer
Beth Orton, King Creosote came of age on
the 90s festival scene, an era where technical
skill was prized less than campfire-friendly
atmospherics.
He eventually gets round to explaining his
broken ankle – he tripped backwards while
working in a boatyard. If nautical settings are his
natural habitat, it makes sense. King Creosote’s
music evokes the calm reflection of looking
out to sea. References to boats and the ocean
litter his songs, and in their modest, unadorned
simplicity they resemble pieces of driftwood
awaiting interpretation.
One highlight tonight is a surprise cover of
Simon & Garfunkel’s ballad The Only Living Boy
In New York. Other tunes, animated by the pulse
of the djembe, provoke outbursts of dancing
from a cheerful, drunken couple.
Then, after a gently upbeat evening, King
Creosote chooses to end his set with three of
the longest, dullest pieces in his catalogue. One,
a tribute to James Yorkston’s recently deceased
bassist, is surely an admirable sentiment but
dirge-like in the extreme. It is in these last tunes
that King Creosote’s unadorned instrumental
style cries out for some extra decoration - a little
mandolin or harmonium perhaps - to lighten the
drawn-out misery.
Tom George / tomgeorgearts.com
Ergo Phizmiz (Nata Moraru / natamoraru.com)
UPITUP RECORDS
BIRTHDAY WEEKENDER
MelloMello / The Kazimier / Drop The Dumbells
The UpItUp Records Tenth Anniversary
Weekender goes off like a slick, co-ordinated
militant campaign. Setting up base in three
venues over three consecutive nights, UpItUp
– likened to audio terrorists in a previous
feature in this publication - host a triumvirate
of wildness-inducing nights that seek to include
extremely avant-garde theatre, pulverising raves
and feral nights in the dark that seem to have no
discernible beginning, middle or end.
Jacques and Paolo, the charismatic and
enigmatic leaders of UpItUp’s Merseyside
division, draw their followers to MelloMello for an
opening night that Liverpool hasn’t experienced
in a long time, and might not do so again for
an equally lengthy span. The main attraction is
ERGO PHIZMIZ and his associates’ wild, weird
and wonderful stage production, Gargantua - but
more on that later. THE WYRDING MODULE duly
serve up a fearful maelstrom of oesophagustightening,
foreboding, cinematically-inclined
noise, using visuals centre stage as he wields
his black magic in the shadows. The skittish,
thudding bass lays foundations for an aural
collage that encapsulates an unsettling
transition from normality to another dimension.
Ergo Phizmiz - and we’re certain he won’t
mind us saying this - is as twisted, odd and out
of place in this world as his moniker suggests.
Gargantua is so extraordinary, so complicated
and even unique that it’s a testament to its
creator’s dedication that it has seen the light of
day. Let’s try and explain this in his own words,
shall we? “This hallucinatory odyssey through
time and culture tells three simultaneous stories:
one a detective story on the disappearance of the
giant King Gargantua; another of an adventure
by French writer Francois Rabelais across Europe;
the third a strange, elliptical board game that