Issue 48 / September 2014

A
UT
UMN
HIGH
LIGHTS
A full season of art, music and events this Autumn
The Companion:
Performance Weekend
19 –21 September
Performances, music and
dance at venues including
The Kazimier, The Black-E and
The Philharmonic Dining Rooms
Bloomberg New
Contemporaries 2014
20 September – 26 October,
World Museum
John Moores Painting Prize
Open daily until 30 November
with winner announced on 19
September, Walker Art Gallery
Frieze Projects: An Occasion
hosted by Isabel Lewis
30 September, Sefton Park
Palm House
Thinking City: Adam Chodzko
2 October, Liverpool Docklands
The 8th Liverpool Biennial
Exhibition continues in venues
across the city until 26 October
Visit www.biennial.com
for more information
up tells you how popular their upbeat soulful
ska is in these parts, and singer Ash Davies
immediately endears himself to a healthilysized
crowd by deciding to get as wet as we are,
showing his full rude boy repertoire of dance
moves. BADLY DRAWN BOY is known as an
unpredictable performer, but after an opening
salvo of “give us a cheer then you c*nts”, it's
easy to guess where this show is heading.
The Badly Prepared Manchild is lucky to be
playing close to home, which can be the only
explanation for so many forgiving his odd mix
of hungover hostility and frank incompetence.
The excruciating sight of a multi-platinum artist
struggling with a pedal he bought yesterday is
one I never wish to repeat. The effort to shake off
the stink of that performance sends us hurtling
headlong into the cyclone breaks of FAR TOO
LOUD, making a much-anticipated debut just as
day begins to turn into night. The sun gives its
seal of approval by bursting through the clouds.
Coupled with earth-shaking bass rumbles and
hundreds of day-glo-daubed hands reaching
for the sky, it gives the impression of some
kind of tribal celebration. DJ FORMAT is surely
the only artist to leave Beatherder with a tale
of woe, as his set falls foul of an over-active
sound limiter. A visibly livid Format battles for
25 truncated minutes before realising he has
no audience left. A frustrating end to a sevenhour
journey for him and us. THE FAMILY RAIN
could be forgiven for feeling out of place as one
of very few bands flying the flag for visceral,
chest-beating rock'n'roll. Holed up in the sweaty
darkness of the Maison D'Etre is the best place
for them, loosening support beams and fillings
with every snare-drum snap.
The inevitable tempo shift of a festival on
Sunday lends itself excellently to comedy –
let our mouths and minds do the work that
our limbs and liver no longer can. In the stillstanding
Maison D'Etre, a slightly dishevelled
JAY HAMPSON impeccably captures the mood.
Coming on like an Arndale Attenborough,
Hampson squeezes his boundless knowledge
of animals through the filter of his councilestate
upbringing with hilarious results,
riffing on bad parenting and panda porn. The
gregarious JONATHAN MAYOR takes advantage
of his “liberal trifecta” of black, gay and
adopted. Horrifying, outlandish stories invoke
the odd spectacle of people howling with
laughter while peeking through their fingers.
The increasingly energised crowd are now
ready for the interactive comedy of PATRICK
MONAHAN, who combines a lightning quick
wit with a puppy's enthusiasm, to devastating
effect. With the lingering sunshine rendering us
all horizontal, DJ SHEPDOG leaves his up-tempo
hip hop-flavoured reggae at home in favour of
a lukewarm set of obscure classics that float
over the heads of most. Unlike Shepdog, THE
DUB PISTOLS are on a mission to rob us of any
remaining energy. Suited and booted as usual,
these reliable festival veterans proceed to skank
everyone into a merry standstill. JAMES LAVELLE
clearly didn’t get the ‘make em dance’ memo. A
listless, nearly beatless set packed with flimsy
mid-tempo remixes of watery indie misses
the mark completely, and produces a mass
exodus to find some real party people. As THE
HAPPY MONDAYS are introduced by a raucously
received party political broadcast from Bez,
it's obvious how much their music has been
overtaken by the mythmaking in the minds of
the audience. Tonight's performance appears
designed to redress that balance. A forceful
opening of Loose Fit and Kinky Afro showcases
a tighter collective who've remembered the
benefits of rehearsal. Even Shaun Ryder is
singing the right words, even if it's sometimes
to the wrong song. The simmering tensions
associated with any band reforming for the
money are occasionally visible, but for the
most part they're having as much fun as we are.
Even the disappointingly early midnight curfew
doesn't curb enthusiasm, as revellers return to
the campsite en masse to finish any remaining
supplies and party until sunrise.
Maurice Stewart / @Bear_Necessity
D/R/U/G/S
D R O H N E
Liverpool Calling @ The Magnet
Back in my teenage years – a drunken
wilderness admittedly – The Magnet was
one of the best venues in Liverpool to go and
see underground acts and bizarre, celebrity
DJ performances. Then it closed for a while,
supposedly for a refurbishment, and faded into
the ether as new and exciting gig venues began
to sprout up all over the city. Recently it has once
again opened its doors; however, seemingly
nobody has yet bothered to turn up. This may be
because the interior looks exactly the same as
before the re-furb, the fact that the other shows
as part of today’s Liverpool Calling Festival are
swelling to bursting point, or just the result of
competition from an oversized puppet show
enrapturing the city. All this aside, local boys
D R O H N E open proceedings for tonight.
For a band that has quite recently returned
from a tour with Factory Floor, the modest
audience at tonight's show must come as a
bit of a low blow. This, however, has nothing
to do with the popularity of the electronic duo,
who have been making waves in the Liverpool
music scene over the past few months. Their
set is predictably impressive, and highlights
the dichotomous quality of the songwriting.
Both haunting and uplifting, with screeching
guitars and spacey synths, it is remarkable to
see how much the two have evolved as an act
in the relatively short space of time since I last
saw them play.
Headliner D/R/U/G/S emerges to a crowd that
has now swelled to about twenty people; he
is, though, unfazed and provides a display that