Learning to walk, London stylee

Camden Crawl Day 2, Various Venues, Saturday 25^th April 2009

The annual razzle dazzle is in town, cue queues, Red Stripes a-plenty, some armpit gazing and a host of bands you may/may not want to see again...

 

If whispers on the high street speak of unholy queues in the wake of Miss O and co, day one (one girl tells me 4 hours!), then Saturday’s crawlers heed… if you want to see Kasabian, it requires a steak out.

But with the Roundhouse droves’ gain, it’s also their loss. It’s a crawl after all, not a stagnation! Fortunately with plenty more on the bill it’s a brisk, tinny-accompanied trundle down to Koko for The King Blues to charm the pants of the Jamie T fans first. A rude-boy version of The Pogues, they perfectly accompany the summertime cider ‘owzat’ swagger of this Borough, albeit a little lightweight. Not entirely sure we're all on board with this 'fucking pigs' business as the front man tosses off about G20 killings and how people should love one another. He's about 75% right.

From here on in, it’s all about compromise: after all, does anyone really think they can trek The Black Cap (The XX), spin by Dingwalls (Everything Everything) and still make it up for the last of Banjo or Freakout set at The Enterprise? Our valiant 3 were just about up to the task as we witnessed The XX coo a rather docile start, somewhat like Evanescence (yes, yuk indeed) and midday beers make for tired eyes. In this way it takes until the second song for the dour female sexiness to really resonate into a Lykke Li single, heart-beating drum machine that rouses a little more.

Everything Everything prove their popular ‘Suffragette Suffragette’ is rather ear-piercing live with it’s weird momentum, a fancier demonstration of their skill than the remaining melodrama. It forces us onwards, into the comfy hazy guitar-shaped arms of Banjo or Freakout – the miniscule dimensions of The Enterprise feeling even more doghouse-sized with their spin-dry acoustic showers. Sneaking a peek at Alessis Ark, the neon flashing ‘one to watch’ is almost visible as she stuns in more ways than one.

For his umpteenth year at the Crawl, Billy Bragg is holed up in the Dublin Castle and has punters hushing one another mere millimetres away. ‘The Milkman of Human Kindness’, as real as ever, sounds magical - we’re not sure if it’s the beer (it isn't) – with this, Camden Crawl has surpassed itself. Sadly there’s not enough time to fall in love with the old Essex boy, as keeping an ear out for Golden Silvers we race towards Die! Die! Die!

An insane jumble of sweat, characters and dancing, the trio truly cut their knashers with Andrew going ‘walkies’ in a set crammed of guitar and Mikey’s irrefutable drumming on ‘Blinding’. Call me a snob, but if I’d have listened to Kyle Falconer whinging about being unwashed I would feel obliged to spring out an acoustic and regale all and sundry with my student misdemeanours.

Lucky for the buskers of Camden I wasn’t sharp enough in the footwork department to catch The View, but the hot ticket for sure this evening is Kasabian. Shoes are lost, beer is lost, brothers are lost, but the Roundhouse is baying for more. Four newbies make the setlist and their psychedelic turn is mesmerising – only aided one would assume by Tom’s adventures in Wizzadora’s closet – beefy guitar lines are swapped for spindling reverb and a less ‘danceable’ beat… well until ‘Club Foot’ kicks out and everyone is finally allowed to lose their minds.

With enough of a noggin left, Eugene McGuiness rattles out The Ramones ‘Judy Is A Punk’ at 1:30am and makes for a surprise highlight of the weekend. See also new single 'Wendy Wonders' for a dose of the heir to the Brian Wilson throne. 

As irrational as it may seem to spend 48 hours trawling a tourist trap with a can at every stop and a queue a mile long, it’s those rare moments of surprise that make this all so much fun. Next year we just need to bring a few clones to soak it all up.

 

Emily Kendrick

Covered in Glory: A Tribute to Tributes

So you've accepted the painful truth. You want to form a band but haven't got the talent or drive to write your own material. It's ok, I respect your honesty. But what next? The answer, quite simply is...form a tribute act.

That's right, covers bands are the last remaining hope of the wannabe rock star and a tried and tested route to the stage and shining lights of...um...a back room of a pub. So, to help you on your journey towards mimicking your idols in a not-at-all fetishistic kind of way, here is some expert* advice: 

The Band

You've accepted the inevitable, now you need a new goal. The first step is to pick the band you want to tributalise. But this is not as easy as it sounds. Choosing a popular band, like The Beatles say, may bring in scores of punters, but on the flip side, may also leave you open to the most extreme prejudice, abuse and possibly violence seen outside the penal system. Pick an obscure personal favourite and, well, who knows what could happen. The safest option is to decide based on your probability of success. If you want to be Led Zeppelin, but can't master the first chord sequence in 'Wonderwall', then think again. If you want to be the Ramones but have the voice of Katherine Jenkins, again, try something else. If, however, you can play a few Smiths tunes and have a yodeling mate with a quiff...you get the idea.

The Name
Key to any tribute band's success is the name. If walk into a venue and a tribute band with a hilarious name is playing, you will go to see them, it's practically the law. It is also your primary marketing tool. Somehow, if the name is good people automatically assume that the band will also, by extrapolation, be good. "What creative and insightflul minds they must have!" they say in awe. So, think hard. Past favourites have been AC/DShe, Bjorn Again, Fred Zeppelin, The Clone Roses, etc etc. But you can do better than that. My personal fave is the MeatLoaf tribute called MaltLoaf. Get this right, and you're half way to success.

Maltloaf: Not just a rather good play on words,

also a fairly accurate description of the music of the man

The Look
Once you have a name, you need the look. This can go one of two ways. Surprisingly well, or really, really shit. On past form, expect the latter, but for best results aim for the former. Have they got an idiosyncratic hat? Are they famous for a certain outfit? Do they have characteristic movements or a unique bodily feature? Whatever it is, copy it as best you can. And this goes for all band members (if you 

have any). Although any Def Leppard tribute acts, may draw a line at amputating their drummer.

The Sound
This is probably the least important aspect of being a tribute act, but still you've come this far, why not give it a go. Step one is the singer. Without this you are merely a live karaoke machine without lyrical prompts. I suggest singing in the shower every day (and night for you clean types), because then you can blame the awful monotone warbling on the distortion caused by the water and steamy air. 

Once the vocals are cracked, get your band together and practise. The key word in that sentence is 'together'. It's no use learning all your parts separately and rocking up to the gig to play. You will undoubtedly sound like discordant avant-garde jazz, despite trying to emulate The Beach Boys. 

So there you have it, you're a tribute band. Now you can sit back, relax and think about why on earth you thought it was a good idea in the first place. Enjoy your meagre earnings, disinterested audiences and sweaty dives, you are well and truly a rock star.

Ian Ravenscroft

*A lie