This show was definitely a bit of a calmer affair from the start, which can’t be said for every show at the first day of London Fashion Week where there was some customary elbowing and shoving out of the way. As I went to find my seat I spotted fashion writer legends Hilary Alexander and Colin McDowell having a good chat and a giggle together in the front row with Hilary wearing some very sensible yet awesome leopard-print Converse trainers. It was a big comfort to see all the top fashion editors mostly rocking comfortable-yet-cool footwear in fluoro colours or a flashy pattern, as I’d also opted for a pair of flats and was therefore still able to walk instead of hobble to the last show by the end of day.

Jean Pierre Braganza S/S 2012. All photography by Amelia Gregory

London-born (then brought up in Canada) Jean-Pierre Braganza has been a favourite of mine since my fashion illustrator student days when I modelled for my exceptionally cool japanese stylist classmate and got to wear a pair of extra-long cream leggings and a lot of crazy makeup plus a Kate Bush-esque wig (I was convinced I looked like an exotic bag lady, but my classmate was onto something with the wig as Jean-Pierre did have a few tracks by Kate in the show). Although I obviously was by no means making waves in the fashion world, what stuck in my mind was the interesting use of ruching along the lower leg that created a strong yet feminine look that gathered the extra length into an interesting shape. And, that was also way before leggings became a normal part of an outfit and were overdone to the extent they are now. Jean-Pierre has since stuck to his aesthetic of creating sculpture-like garments, making him best known for constructed tailoring with a bit of an edge.

Jean Pierre Braganza S/S 2012 by Helena Maratheftis

As the lights dimmed and the usual loud ‘shhhs’ came from somewhere (I always wonder if this is the PR people or just people like me who’d rather not have yelling over the music) I was able to give the press release a quick read. A trip to Cornwall is where the idea for the collection started; blue skies and fluffy cornish clouds (which made me also think about yummy fluffy Cornish ice-cream) contrasted with the sharp lines found in sculptures by Barbara Hepworth and works by Ben Nicholson. As a thumping song from the latest Daft Punk Tron movie soundtrack started up I wondered just how Jean-Pierre was going to mix this with inspiration from the Art-Deco area with ‘technological aspiration’ and industrial rock.

Jean-Pierre Braganza S/S 2012 by Claire Kearns

Girls stomped out in time to the electro-inspired music with a bit of strong blush on the cheek and hair pulled into a high but loose ponytail, which was then given a sculptural fishtail braid by the Toni & Guy session team. I bumped into of one of the models after the show, Odile from Select (she was being photographed and kept snapping into various model-perfect poses in about 0.3 of a second, incredible to see first-hand) who loved the hair so much she was going to keep it in all day. The first look out was a shift dress with a bit of a flapper silhouette and contrasting cut-out dotted panels that created an amazing effect when the models moved. Touché Mr Braganza, you’ve done it again. I loved the sharp lines around the panels, giving the dress shape (reminding me of Tron-like outfits with lit-up panels from the movie) and a strong but pretty look perfectly complimenting the figure. Very nice to see a dress you can just throw on and immediately look very sculptural and tailored.

The shoes, made by Jean-Pierre for Dune, (so perhaps you’ll see them or a version of them to buy next season) were very high and very unsuitable for the everyday but my goodness they packed a punch. Black detailing was contrasted against pale lemon, bright blood red or even caramel and prints to match the dresses. The ridiculously high peep-toe heels did however come into form on the catwalk, elevating the part-dress part-sculpture girls to a skyscraper level and almost turning their legs into a plinth from which the clothes could be artfully exhibited.

This collection definitely had a lot in it that I loved. Jean-Pierre did sexy cut-outs, which I previously felt puts too much on show and a bit too in-your-face, but in his hands they became petal-soft panels that skimmed curves and held everything in place. They looked almost demure, passing the ‘test’ in where I try to picture myself wearing the dress or shorts or whatever and wonder if I actually would wear it out somewhere nice. It was soft tailoring and sculptural shapes with a feminine yet slightly dark side, which I liked. A lot. There were some gorgeous draped dresses too that reminded me a little of the Spring/Sumer 2010 ‘Dolche Far Niente’ collection by Chalayan but I felt the fabric didn’t have that much to cling to with the slimmer models; some curvier ladies would have worked it better.

A tailored suit or two later, I was admiring the necklaces and gawping over just how high the shoes were when without expecting it, I was completely smitten. It was a dress, but not just any dress. As a lover and illustrator of fashion, I know what colours, shapes and silhouettes will tick my boxes, but I go weak at the knees for a bit of monochrome. I just can’t help it. Blame it on having an architect dad, blame it on the way Comme des Garçons and Chanel use it, blame it on whatever you like because I don’t know why but it always gets me. And this dress got me in a bite-my-lip, ‘damn that’s amazing it’s like wearing a sculpture and can I have it now please’ kind of way. So, I was minding my business scribbling notes and wondering what the grand Hilary Alexander thought of all this when my favourite dress of the show walked out and into, well, yes into my heart. I love it when someone creates with real thought and real skills, and when that thing created is something you can wear, well let’s just say it’s a good thing my budget is no-where near being able to buy stuff like this as I think I’d just stare at it for ages.

Jean-Pierre-Braganza S/S 2012 by Alia Gargum

The dress was the same as the first ‘modern day flapper girl’ dress on the catwalk, but in white with black lines that gloriously framed the figure. A long black line travelled from the neckline down to the hemline, where it met the other lines that framed the hips and outlined the shoulders. It was sexy in a very understated and fresh way, but was by no means casual, and I loved it. I loved that you’d just be able to slip it on, that it would go with anything, and details like the dropped hem at the back means you’d never have to worry about it was too short when you bent over to pick something up or when pulling some 20s-meets-futuristic shapes on the dance floor.

Jean-Pierre-Braganza S/S 2012 by Marcus Reed.

After the dress, I did see a nice silky jumpsuit or two and some lovely patterns that reminded me of shards of coloured glass as well as some very clever details like slightly off-set arm holes but I couldn’t help thinking about the dress. Before I knew it, Jean-Pierre was giving us a little wave from the start of the catwalk and everyone began to file out of the BFC show space. The press release mentioned fashion being ‘about capturing emotion in a glance’, and I would insert some overtly poetic line echoing this, but when it comes down to it I loved a dress so much that it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Mr Braganza, I think you truly merit a ‘job well done’ on this collection.

Play the video and watch the show.

100 Acres of Sycamore was written in Mallorca, where he stayed at the home of Anna Friel – invited after having met her by chance in Valencia. He was enchanted by the ancient setting and on his return recorded the entire album in seven days. It’s a deeply rich experience, made special by his use of language. Not for nothing is Fionn Regan an honorary member of the Trinity College Literary Society.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Fionn Regan plays a couple of inshore dates this week, including one at Rough Trade West this Sunday 18th September, then at the Lomography Gallery Store on Commercial Street. He headlines Bush Hall on the 20th September. 100 Acres of Sycamore is out now on Heavenly Recordings.

This album gives us a telling insight into the workings of James’ mad professor mind, where musical fusions are created with a lightness of hand, and somehow, all the ingredients seem to come together seamlessly. Given that James blends electro, synth experiments, garage rock, a soupçon of shoegaze and a touch of dream pop, it all could have ended terribly, but somehow the tracks glide smoothly along; almost as if the musical DNA of the above styles was always destined to be mashed up.

It’s also telling that James’ most recent abode has been Cologne, Germany. The album has an unmistakeable electro/experimental and minimalist influences that puts the listener in mind of Kraftwerk. I had thought that Kraut rock is kraut rock, but apparently, there is a further genre of German rock that mixes traditional hard rock with dance-like keyboard parts called Neue Deutsche Härte (NDH): ‘New German Hardness’ (there you go, your fact for the day) and this album reminds me a little bit of this (but without the NDH Satanic imagery). Pleasingly, there is a beating heart beneath the shiny, futuristic contours of this album. Newly released single “Clouds Over The Pacific” is soft and fuzzy and layers delicate female harmonies over a nimble plucking of a guitar string ( or could be a harp), which in turn is layered over a wall of synth sound. James Pants is kind of loopy (and that’s the album I’m talking about, not the man), but I like it. Songs like These Girls, Alone and A Little Bit Closer are the type of tracks that give you a second wind when you hear them in a club (or field) at 2am and go crazy to the beats that sound like they have a bolt of electricity running through them.

If you need a clue as to how a collusion of styles and genres has been weaved together so artfully with ne’er a foot out of step, look no further to the unconventional life of its creator. James is the son of two Presbyterian ministers from an American backwater called Spokane, and his non-conformist journey has taken him from being a teenage DJ for a black nationalist rap group to a multi-instrumentalist with fans and collaborators ranging from Flying Lotus, Zane Lowe, Erol Alkan and XL’s new teen hip-hop internet sensation Tyler The Creator. His backround gives me a further understanding of this album. Only a man who can straddle as many different worlds and cultures as he does – and be wholeheartedly accepted – could make an album as diverse as this without losing any authenticity.

Shortly after her debut solo show at Bush Hall (read my review here) I caught up with Saint Saviour to pose a few questions…

How did it feel to play your first solo show? You seemed pretty overwhelmed by it!
God, did I look really nervous!? I was very nervous indeed. I have toured the world and played to thousands of people, but singing your own stuff in an intimate setting is very nerve-wracking and I had also just got off tour with Groove Armada so I was and still am pretty exhausted. But it all went reasonably to plan and I got a lot of great feedback from real fans, which meant the world to me.

Saint Saviour by Daria Hlazatova.

After working with Groove Armada, both in the studio and on tour, how has the experience influenced you? Have they given you any good tips?
They taught me a lot about production, and how to separate the wheat from the chaff when it comes to arranging a tune. I also learned a lot about live show production and how much work goes into it. I got the chance to tour a lot of the world and see how the industry works in other countries and how different people react to the music. I feel a lot worldlier! The best tip they gave me was that the less sleep you get, the less you need.

Saint Saviour by Karina Yarv.

Songs such as Fallen Trees and Woman Scorned show a few different styles. Who, or what, would you say influences your music?
I have been seriously into music since I was a kid, so I have really diverse tastes and an inquisitive drive to discover more ways of making music. To be honest though, I find this actually quite restricting because when it comes to making my own album, I’ve gone from dark electro to Southern Soul music, Stax Records style, reggae to country folk. It’s a nightmare for A&R situations but I guess it means I can write for other people too and maybe one day, actually make a living.

You’ve got quite distinctive vocals, which I’ve seen compared to the likes of Antony Hegarty. Does it take a lot of practice to get that effect?
Yeah, I practice a lot.

SaintSaviour by Jessica Gurr.

You seem to pick up some rather striking outfits for your stage shows and videos. Where do you get the inspiration from, or do you just leave your designers to it?
It may sound a little but ‘special’ but when I listen to music I have very vivid pictures in my mind the whole time and I get a lot of ideas for costumes from this practice. The Jellyfish thing I wore for my first gig was inspired directly by listening to the song I came out to, which just makes me think of them swimming around. I got my friend Paula Selby Avellaneda to make it for me from my imagination, and she made the dress to go with it.

What’s coming up next for Saint Saviour?
Hmmmm. Well there’s a lot of possibly exciting things rumbling beneath me, but I can’t really confirm any of them. I’m doing some exciting collaborations and hoping a couple of nice gigs come off. Watch this space!

As I arrive at The Hundred in the Hands soundcheck, the floor of the upstairs room of the Old Blue Last is littered with an array of guitars, wires, and keyboards with cases of all shapes and sizes to match. On stage the Brooklyn two-piece seem to glide between their stations, calmly, almost nonchalantly, warming their instruments up and coiling endless lengths of cable around the compact space the Old Blue has to offer. Eleanor, Jason and the beat master extraordinaire (Mr Apple Mac laptop) whir into action for another slot on their summer tour, their appearance in London followed by a much anticipated debut at Latitude and Festival de-Affaire in the Netherlands. Even within the empty room my feet can’t help tapping as The Hundred in the Hands fine tune their breed of electro; sugar spun candy pop sprinkles on a thick, fuzzy electric whirlwind that you can’t help but get lost in.

Once the soundcheck is put to bed, Eleanor and Jason are kind enough to spare me a few minutes for a chat in the luxurious surroundings the Old Blue Last does so well- peeling wallpaper, endless sirens and multipacks of Hula Hoops. But the charming pair seem unfazed by the rush around them, the capital is now like a ‘second home’ to them as this venture brings their UK visits up to four, although Eleanor insists they ‘still don’t know how to get around, nearly getting run over because the cars are going the wrong way.’

As a pair they seem in sync, each listens to the other, feeds off their ideas, never overrunning each other’s sentences. For creators of such urgent and, at times, epic music, there is a calm patience about each of them. Their musical exploration references many shades of genres through history, although their own musical education began with the good old bastion of classic American music: the radio. For Jason it was the ‘golden oldies on the stations, Motown and stuff like that’, a passion shared by Eleanor: ‘Because it was on the radio it wasn’t really a conscious choice, it just drifted into your life. And I listened to a lot of brooding, moody music in the 90’s, of course, as everyone should. But I think when I came back around to pop music and pop forms I realised I did have that in my background, but it was all the golden oldies, the girl group sounds.’

The pop power behind The Hundred in the Hands is undeniable, intentional even, with the band working with four different producers including pop mastermind Richard X and LCD Soundsystem’s aural curator, Eric Broucek. ‘We chose songs that would compliment producers’, Jason explains. ‘They didn’t necessarily shape the idea of the song, but just help it go the extra distance. To tap into the knowledge and ability like that is amazing.’ For Eleanor the assistance of four varying second opinions ‘adds a rush of energy and settle the arguments,’ although few producers would complain about taking on the task of laying Eleanor’s sweet, crystal cut voice over the record. She might be the only girl of the group, but an unmistakable femininity resonates within the melodies, a throwback to their radio listening days.

Their upcoming album is due for release in September and was even originally conceived to be a hip hop album, a nod to their mutual dedication to decades of the genre (although after 1992 it does get a bit wobbly), but the follow up to the pair’s EP ‘Dressed in Dresden’ flirts more readily with a sense of catchy hooks and itchy basslines. With 70 to 80% of the tracks home recorded at some point along the way, The Hundred in the Hands are undoubtedly keeping a lo-fi arthouse panache to their sound, but a heavy touring schedule means the chance to write new songs has got to find its own time amongst the shows.

This is where Mr Apple Mac apparently comes in most handy, not only for spending hours geeking out on dub and hip hop inspirations, but for moulding the biology of The Hundred in the Hands’s sounds. ‘Beats seem to grow; we write as we’re recording and we can’t play it until we record it so it’s always changing. After shows, in between shows, on the way to the next show, we can get the laptop open and work. The difficulty is trying to make the beats feel like they’re happening now.’ Jason’s passion for melding the experience of pre-recording and live performance is evident and is something the pair have perfected for their touring schedule. The frequent appearance of Steve Job’s silvery, shiny plug-in babies on stages across the world has exploded in the past few years, but whilst DJs have benefited endlessly from software programmes that turn the bedroom into the studio, some bands have failed to translate this process into a tangible and exciting live performance. No doubt familiar with this problem, Eleanor explains how the band have moderated their sound: ‘We’ve designed things so with the year of touring we’ve got coming up we have eight different channels of sound coming from the back track, so we’re trying to make it adaptable to a more full on spectrum. Not dance music, but something full on.’

What better place to test the theory than the jammed Old Blue Last. By 10pm the air seems sticky with all the bodies and plastic cups of beer. Jason said he hoped people would ‘get sweaty’ tonight and I do not think he will be disappointed. Opener Tom Tom tip taps through your head and feet but pop the vibration intricacies that make the record such a stunner are somewhat lost in the air. As the songs are reeled out the energy onstage fizzles between Jason’s stopstart juts and stomps on the guitar, and Eleanor’s vocal emerge from her diminutive frame and dishevelled, parted hair. A panicked elegance emerges from each song and new material marks itself out from the darker edge of Dressed in Dresden. A disco electro undercurrent darts from the speakers and limbs start to get looser amongst the audience. The final word must, of course, come from the Man of the Masses, the Voice of the People, or the Man in Front of Me Using Blackberry… “the band is fuckin amazin!”

All photographs by Sabrina Morrison

I have recently noticed that the more music festivals I attend, the less stressival I suffer from. Are summer festivals becoming less and less exciting or is it that my music tastes get fussier and fussier? Probably both.

It is with this mood that I approach the new adventure of Primavera Sound 2010. Few of the names on the bill actually make me wet my pants, but honestly I expected a more “dangerous”, braver line-up from the self-proclaimed “international reference of independent music” in Europe, that this year gets to its 10th edition. For instance, it surprisingly lacks of the exponents of the big dubstep and new underground electronic scene that has characterised large part of the musical year 2009-2010.
Plenty of the übercool chillwave American bands, darlings of the major international music blogs, grace the stages of the Parc Del Forum in Barcelona but what about the great producers we have here in the UK, and in France?
There are some great big comebacks (Pavement, Liquid Liquid, The Slits), some classics (Pixies, Shellac), established new acts (Panda and Grizzly Bears, Atlas Sound, Broken Social Scene, Diplo), the best hip new bands (Real Estate, Best Coast, Sleigh Bells, Surfer Blood) but it seems it lacks of the sparkle it had till last year.

Here are in chronological order of appearance some impressions of the acts I’ve had the pleasure (or the pain, depending on the circumstances) to see in the 3-day music marathon of Primavera Sound, collected in real time and (almost) uncensored.

The Fall: miserably missed due to queue at the accreditation stand point. It rains. The night kicks off in a quite delusional way.

Smith Westerns: the singer looks exactly like Nick Cave’s son! But he’s not, thank God, otherwise I would lose all the respect I have got for the Cave family.
Pitchfork’s indie darlings are not bad after all, they sound pretty garage-y and their catchy guitar riffs and the stage presence of his frontman are quite entertaining. But I don’t see much inventive or novelty.
On record they sound much much better – a raw, fuzzy, surf-y powerpop, that has nothing to do with the boring indie version of them I’m seeing tonight.

Superchunk: did we really need the comeback of the Nineties? Did we really miss it? They put up a good show, but they give me that mixed feeling of when you see your parents putting out the 20-year-old kid attitude. Sweet attempt.

Broken Social Scene: Kevin Drew is possibly the most talented male singer of the decade, at least. They are so good I want to cry. Seeing them is a real pleasure. Their airy, rich melodies fill the air in the Rayban stage, no one talks, everyone listens to them in ecstatic silence.
They are actually so good, so eclectic and effortlessly beautiful that I almost hate them.

Pavement: I saw them in Brixton in early May and I was not that convinced by this comeback. And the show on Thursday confirms my first impression. It seems that Mr Malkmus has lost his voice. He still looks unbelievably hot, though.
They actually seems they’ve got their energy back in ‘Fight This Generation’, but maybe I’m too drunk already not to notice their struggle in trying rock like in the good ol’ days.
[...]
I’m definitely too drunk.

Fuck Buttons: this is actually the show I’m unexpectedly enjoying the most on Thursday. Sitting on the “gradas” of the Rayban stage at 4 in the morning, knackered, sipping the nth “vodka y redbull light”, waiting for the metro to reopen so that I can finally pass out in bed.
They build up a psychedelic wall of sounds and lights, the rhythm gets faster and faster, orgasmic almost. ‘Sweet Love For Planet Heart’ is the song that will sing me to sleep in the wee hours.

A Sunny Day In Glasgow: first, they are not from Glasgow, they are from Philly. And I’ve been apparently not enough obsessed with them for the past few years to be surprised by how young they look. To be honest, I’ve never cared about giving a face to those haunting voices that build up as if they were coming from outer space – there’s still too much music out there to waste time in caring about looks. But the richness and maturity of their sound and elaborated melodies have always made me think of some more mature musician. Or maybe they’ve just got a healthy lifestyle and know how to keep themselves young. Or maybe they’ve done a pact with the devil.

Harlem: cool Texan dudes that sing of ‘Gay Human Bones and ‘Junkie Nurse’. Their power-surf-pop is well fun, everyone jumps around in the evening sun and salty breeze.

Scout Niblett: Holy shit! Where does this tiny mousy-faced woman in mismatched clads with the most powerful and heartbreaking voice come from? Well, I’ve done my research, it’s not Neptune or some obscure otherworldly space. It’s Nottingham. The depth and flexibility of her voice reminds me of Bjork and the rawness and brutality of her sound makes me strangely think of Kurt Cobain. Everybody listens in religious silence to the guitar roaring, the drums kicking and her timid but potent and violent voice. Goosebumps.

Ganglians: why are there so many good bands from California? Why London is lacking so much of young talented bands effortlessly cool, not afraid to experiment with both instruments and technology, other than with illegal substances? I think London is pretty dead on that front, it seems everyone is busy in “after-partying” or just “posing”, while on the West Coast there’s so much musical ferment.

*Amend: pardonnez-moi for this stream of consciousness, after all London has got its musical gems, too, like Django Django, Fiction, La Shark… And plenty of amazing electronic producers. Only, somehow they didn’t get to Primavera Sound.

Anyway, my love Ganglians’ ability to centrifuge together psych, surf, pop, goth, noise has
been lasting so far. I think they are officially my favourite new band around.

Cocorosie: great arty show for the Cassidy sisters, with psychedelic scenography and fairy costumes. I appreciate their ability to mix medieval fantasies, flutes, boom-boxes, pop and opera, but the final effect doesn’t convince me. I find their sound too pop, actually, almost trip-hop.

Beach House: Another great voice and delicious melodies. Less inventive than Cocorosie, that I’ve ditched in order to see them on Friday, they put up a show solely focused on their musical performance without visual embellishments, but their melodies are so haunting and enthralling that I can’t help and close my eyes to the notes of ‘Zebra’ and sing along.

Wire: They. Are. Impressive. They still rock, and rock hard. And Colin Newman has still got all his voice.

Panda Bear: sweet smell of weed fills the air in front of the Vice stage. And I feel like enjoying Panda Bear in a transcendental status, too. Unfortunately Noah Lennox will have to play without visuals – which sounds a bit of a joke for a “multimedia artist” like him.
I’ve always liked Panda Bear and Animal Collective but I think there’s not much point in seeing him live since the show is not very visually exciting.
[...]
Actually, who needs visuals, when you can sit down, close your eyes and surrender to the beats, the bass, those kicks and that infinite primordial echo.
Yes, I’m gladly stoned, too by the end of the gig.

Marc Almond: I feel sorry for him. This gig is quite embarrassing, He looks like an old cocotte wearing too much make up in order to still try to attract clients.

Pixies: yeah, Pixies are always superb. Still, it doesn’t feel “real”, if you know what I mean, considering all the rumors surrounding issues going on between the members of the band (the fact that Kim Deal’s face is never caught on the maxi screens might be a clue, or maybe I’m simply conspiracy freak?).
I’m in a peace-and-love vibe and don’t feel comfortable in that hard-rock situation. I run to see Yeasayer that will better suit my mood.

Yeasayer: I think All Our Cymbals has been the album I’ve most listened to in 2008 AND 2009. But this doesn’t change my personal opinion on Chris Keating, the singer, that tonight confirms my impressions with his biggest-twat-in-town attitude.

The Bloody Beetroots Death Crew 77: glad to hear that my Italian fella Bloody Beetroots, Steve Aoki’s protegés and tech-house kings, have evolved into a “real” instrumental electronic band that mixes techno, hip-hop, italo disco, punk and house in an explosive mix.

ODDSAC: if I saw Danny Perez and Animal Collective’s movie on LSD I would be traumatized forever. Watching it right after breakfast (as I did) is not highly recommended either.
Plotless succession of psychedelic images, primordial cries and surreal situation. I leave the theatre completely high on sensory stimuli.
My head feels emptied. My only certainty, as I re-acclimatize to reality in the warm Saturday afternoon sun, is that I will never eat marshmallows again.

Real Estate: fuzzy guitars: check. Reverb: check. New home in Brooklyn: check. Feature on the cool blog celebrating them as the-new-cool-band -to-check-out: check. Check shirt: check . (Too many “check”s, I’m getting a headache.)
I’m always a bit sceptical towards bands that meet all the requirements to automatically be regarded as “cool”, but I have to admit that their raw shoegaze-y pop is catchy and refreshing.

Michael Rother and Friends present Neu!music: Michael Rother playing Neu! tracks out of a sleek silver Mac? Is he taking the piss? I’m leaving.

Atlas Sound: magical. His creepy and unwillingly imposing presence, his acoustic guitar and a few effects create a wonderful atmosphere.

The Slits: Ari Up is still a hot mess, all clad in Jamaican colours, and the new tracks sound as good and fun as the old classics. But Ari should definitely smoke less dope.

Grizzly Bear: ok, I’ve got some issues with this band. I do like them, but I can’t understand why. Maybe this is the deepest secret of real love? I still can’t understand how they could fill up the second biggest stage this way. And I don’t know why they keep putting them and Animal Collective in the same music cluster. Tonight, they sound a bit blues-y for some reasons. But my heart of stone melts like ice lolly in the sun to the airy melodies of the Brooklyn-based 4-piece outfit.

Matt & Kim: I guess they can’t even believe it themselves but they gather a massive audience. Everyone is dancing like crazy! Their genuine enthusiasm and energy are contagious. And I’m down in the crowd, too.

Liquid Liquid: in the words of Sal Principato:

Real music
Played by real people
For real people

And he is right indeed. I crown them the best band I’ve had the honour to see performing live. It feels like their sound has never changed, they still bang those percussions like 30 years ago. I had lots of expectations for them, and they haven’t let me down once. This is the feeling I was expecting to experience in Primavera Sound.

*It has only happened once or twice, though (with Liquid Liquid and Ganglians, precisely).

Pet Shop Boys: I pass by the main stage to see Pet Shop Boy just because I feel I have to, being the main headliner of the whole festival. A technicolor show where special effect take the precedence over the music. Gaga would be proud of them. I’m not.

Lee “Scratch” Perry: wait a minute. Me? Not only listening to Lee “Scratch” Perry, but jumping and dancing by the stage to the irresistible tracks of the 74 year-old godfather of dub? Yes! And I’m loving it.

Orbital: they kick off brilliantly, with a mayhem of techno and house supported by great visual effects. But they lose me with a remix of Jon Bonjovi’s ‘Heaven on Heart‘.

The Field: I discover this Stockholm electronic musician tonight and I’m blown away by the deep beats that open up in a hectic crescendo. He performs live supported by nonetheless than John Stainer, drummer of the über-cool Battles (and other two dudes I don’t really know).
since I discovered Kopperberg cider I knew that Swedish were cool, and The Field definitely confirms my love and respect for that population.

The Field is the last act I see at Primavera Sound 2010. Fake Blood is next on the Pitchfork stage. But I start to feel drained by these three days of dwelling with queues at the accreditation points, queues at the bars, queues at the toilets (that were really only few), dealing with the lack of information and with the fact that apparently people in Barcelona are not gifted with the talent of giving directions to strangers (seriously, someone should do an ethnographic study about this). I feel I need a holiday to recover from this holiday.
But I leave Parc Del Forum with a smile and the echo of Ganglians’ ‘Crying’ Smoke’ in my head, sure that next year, in spite of the troubles and some disappointment, I’ll be here.

But before memories get blurred and emotions fade away, let me decree the winners of this 3-day music marathon.

Best of best: Liquid Liquid.
Best new act: Ganglians, Scout Niblett.
Acts I regret the most not having seen: The Fall, Sleigh Bells, The King Kahn & BBQ Show.
Acts I regret the most having seen: Marc Almond, Michael Rother and Friends.
Best overall line-up per stage: Pitchfork and ATP tie.
Best day: Saturday. I haven’t danced so much in ages.

All photos by Laura Lotti

There are certain musicians who do what they like. These are the frontline soldiers of the music scene, venturing into the unknown; fearless of the landmines that could blow their careers into smithereens. Just ask Britney, it’s a dangerous world out there.

David Byrne, on the other hand, appears to be made of vibranium. The former Talking Heads frontman has the uncanny ability to cut artistic diamonds out of pretty much everything he turns his hand to, and his latest project is no exception. In an unlikely collaboration, Byrne has teamed up with club DJ and dance-music producer Fatboy Slim (Norman Cook) to compose a disco opera about the life of Imelda Marcos, who, along with her dictator husband Ferdinand, ruled the Philippines from 1965 to 1986. Confused? Well, I’m not surprised.

Five years in the making, Here Lies Love is a song cycle paying homage to the “Iron Butterfly” (as she was known), which tells the story of Imelda’s rise and fall through a sequence of songs written by Byrne, with Fatboy Slim providing the infectious beats. The impressive and eclectic name-check of female vocalists, including girl-of-the-moment Florence Welch, Martha Wainwright, Tori Amos, Cyndi Lauper, and French chanteuse Camille, reaffirms the faith that Byrne’s fellow artists have in him in pulling off a potentially bonkers project such as this. Steve Earle and Byrne himself also make appearances on the record, where the twenty-two singers take us on a journey of Imelda’s life, from her humble origins to fleeing the country in exile. The roles of the former First Lady and those she was closest to are played out over the 89-minute song cycle, with the most notable character being Estrella Cumpus, Imelda’s childhood servant and friend, who was cast aside as Imelda began to occupy the upper echelons of Filipino society.

The record opens with a catchy, upbeat number from Florence Welch sung in a theatrical style, with a soaring chorus (no surprise there) to orchestral arrangements and squelchy electro. The title track details Imelda’s poverty-stricken childhood, her dreams for a better life and is amusingly also how she would like to be remembered when she dies: “When I am called by God above, don’t have my name carved into the stone, just say, Here Lies Love.”

The story arc continues with Imelda’s early hunger for fame and all things beautiful, captured by Martha Wainwright’s ballad-paced ‘The Rose of Tacloban’: “Elegant women on a magazine page…cutting out their faces, and replacing them with my own,” to her courtship and whirlwind romance with Ferdinand Marcos on ‘Eleven Days’, sung by Cyndi Lauper, who embodies Imelda’s excitement at the prospect of a diamond-dusted future. Over catchy bass lines and retro grooves, Lauper sings: “He gave me—two roses, one is open, one is closed, one is the future, and—one is my love.”

As Imelda makes the transition from simple country gal to fully-fledged member of the Filipino elite, Estrella’s gradual abandonment is highlighted in ‘How Are You?’ by Nellie McKay, in an imagined letter from Estrella to Imelda punctuated by a lively Latin-inspired chorus, and ‘When She Passed By’, which takes on a country-dance slant as Estrella only gets to admire Imelda from afar: “Did you see me outside? Did you see me? When you passed by in your car? Ah well, that’s okay.”

Further along in the song cycle, the record takes a more sinister turn, with angrier, edgier vocals deployed in the form of Alice Russell as Imelda acknowledges her husband’s infidelity: “You play around with that woman, Didn’t you know I cared?…If you prefer that slut—okay.” The last few songs paint a not-so-pretty-picture of martial law, with delicate vocals aptly provided by Natalie Merchant, and also the assassination of Marcos’ rival, Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino (who dated Imelda in her youth, but rejected her because she was “too tall”), and then Imelda and Ferdinand being airlifted out of the Malacanang Palace (the White House of Manila) by U.S. marines (there is no mention of the infamous 3,000 pairs of shoes left behind – Byrne never likes to make reference to the obvious).

Among those making an appearance on Here Lies Love, stand out tracks include Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Eleven Days’, who captures the courtship thrill with a sexy and sassy deliverance; Roisin Murphy’s ‘Don’t you Agree’, with her husky tone perfectly pitched against Moloko’s signature staccato sleaze-horns (although hearing Murphy sing “Now, who stood up to the Japanese? Who cares about the Philippines?” pitched against this backdrop does throw you a bit); and Sharon Jones’ ‘Dancing Together’, whose muscular vocals finely complement the attitude-laden funk rhythms. Byrne shines in ‘American Troglodyte’, a song about American excess and the Filipino peoples’ fascination of it, employing a distinctive Talking Heads sound with sexy riffs and swirling synths. All in all, as diverse as the artists may sound on the roll call, the vocalists manage to meld their sequences together to seamless effect, without compromising their own unique style.

Despite the various themes, the record takes on a definitely 1970s and early 1980s disco theme, to honour Imelda’s love of the club scene (she was a regular at Studio 54). There are several moments on the album, such as in Theresa Andersson’s ‘Ladies in Blue’, where you can visualise the former First Lady throwing shapes around her New York townhouse (she had a dance floor and a mirror ball installed for entertaining and pleasure).

Here Lies Love is available in a deluxe hard-bound 120-page book, containing a DVD of news footage, but I got the poor woman’s version which has a double CD presented in a foldable cardboard case and pretty pictures of Imelda’s mother, Remedios, “Ninoy”, the Marcos’s in various poses and Estrella who appears as a blacked out smidge on the sleeve, presumably to illustrate a woman has clearly been left in the shadow.

As far as an analysis of the final piece goes, rather than painting Imelda as a monster, Byrne presents her as a sympathetic and tragic figure, one who lived in her own “bubble world” with an unashamed love of luxury. The record is more about human empathy than politics. Byrne is not proclaiming that Imelda has been misunderstood nor is he asking that we forgive her, but he artfully attempts to make us try to understand what drove her to behave in the way that she did; he considers how her inferiority complex about coming from humble origins may have motored her greed at the expense of her people; and how her gradual dissociation to Estrella may have been the caused by her wanting to rid herself of any association to her difficult past. The record in its entirety is a tribute to Imelda as Byrne tries to demystify such a well-known figure who people know so little about beyond the designer shoes and Swiss bank accounts.

It is inevitable that the musical-influenced style of the record will draw comparisons to Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Evita, but as Byrne has stated in previous interviews, the similarities end beyond both women being dictators’ wives. Here Lies Love is an adventurous project delivered by Byrne and although not every track is an instant classic, it’s definitely worth exploring for the innovation. It is a record that manages to be creative and intelligent yet highly entertaining. Somehow, David Byrne has managed to defy the odds and make his way safely back to the trenches to come up trumps again.

‘Outremanche’ (French, literally “across the channel”) is the new mini-album from the London-based French singer filled with plaintive pop ballads and electro frippery, sung predominantly in her native tongue.

The warming, warped folk-pop of the opening track mixes Yo La Tengo-esque pockets of distant distorted guitars with velvety Stereolab vocals . My state-funded education in the language of love means I can only translate the odd word like ‘minute’ or ‘England’, but it doesn’t matter, that’s the beauty of the French accent – it makes even the most the humdrum subject matter sound alluring and filmic. Therefore, the album works very well when listened to on a walkman, turning mundane acts such as getting the number 12 bus to Totton into a scene from ‘Belle de jour’.

The high-pitch pistons and echoing vocals of ‘Je suis là’ lead into a suitably sultry cover of the Edith Piaf standard ‘Toujour aimer’, whilst the closing track ‘Mars ou avril’ recalls nectarous melancholy masters St. Etienne.

This is a classy, compelling set of songs, and yet perhaps it lacks a sprinkling of avant-garde magic to make it truly show-stopping – but there’s no denying the bewitching appeal of Anne B’s delivery, and a dab of French exoticism will go a long way when it comes to standing out from the UK indie crowd. If Anne B is a bit more adventurous when it comes to recording her full length LP, it could be something quite special.

Alaska In Winter, the alias of Brandon Bethancourt, got his name from the summester out of uni that he spent making music in a cabin in the aforementioned locale and season, signifying the importance his surroundings have on his creativity. Growing up in New Mexico and previously residing in Berlin, his Eastern orthodox parents exposed him to an array of Romanian, Bulgarian and Byzantian music, which have all fed into his own blend of electro-Balkan dance music. Amelia’s Magazine catch up with the chap with a penchant for Russian hats on his UK tour, just before his gig at The Macbeth in Hoxton, which is raising money for WaterAid.

The culmination of the hiatus in the Alaskan wilderness and subsequent trips around Eastern Europe was debut album, Dance Party In The Balkans, a vocoder-glazed celebration of all of his cultural influences. Although he admits that much of what was produced in the cabin didn’t make the cut and is still a work in progress, “they’re impossible to listen to at the moment. They’re really lo-fi, but one day I hope to release them.”

Friends and fellow Albuquerquians, Zach Condon of Beirut fame and Heather Trost from A Hawk And A Hacksaw, both feature on his debut. There is obviously something about this remote state, of which he says, “I’m going to be polite and use the word slow. Both Hawk and Beirut and myself found inspiration in leaving New Mexico.”

In contrast to New Mexico’s music scene that is “a bit bland”, Bethancourt eulogises about his time living in the artistic hub of Berlin – where he made second album, Holiday – “it is energy while New Mexico is lethargy.” A city that provides a 24-hour dance party Olympics, could certainly not be described as a bit bland, “I did about 17 of those. In Berlin, they mainly happen on a Monday night. When a bar called BAR25 closed down, there was a final 100-hour party for the last 100 hours of opening,” Bethancourt claims proudly.

Taking creative inspiration from “nature and other artists” Bethancourt says he thought about making music at the age of 15 and only made the step two years ago at the age of 25. Yes, that makes him 27 now! So was there a path that his life could have taken that wasn’t music? “ I studied photography and visual arts in New Mexico, so I always knew I’d do something in the arts, that didn’t make much money,” he says.

Producing electro music, Bethancourt shares the same relationship with computers as most artist do with their tools, “A love hate one about sums it up.” As well as the various locations he has found himself in, Bethancourt cites 80s metal and classical music as genres that have wormed their way into his sound.

Recalling his days in Alaska, Bethancourt talks about the sustainable lifestyle he had there, “I grew my own stuff. For a small portion of the year there’s light all day and things grow unbelievably.” And if you’re wondering, Brussel Sprouts are his favourite vegetable.

Amelia’s Magazine thrives on nice people, I wonder who the last really nice person Bethancourt met was? “In Iceland, while I walked out the door to pick something up from the store, two girls stopped me and said they were throwing a dinner party for strangers. I went to their house and there was all this free food and alcohol and everyone was really nice.” With the exception of our earth editor, whilst Amelia’s Magazine does not necessarily condone, accepting alcohol off of strangers from the street, we do like the sound of that brief encounter.

And the last record you bought and loved? “Stephan Bodzin,” Bethancourt imparts with very little hesitation.

Whilst chatting into the night is obviously a great thing to do, this guy really has a gig to play, so on one last note I’m wondering about his plans for the future. He kindly informs me, “To finish the tour and go back to the US, but maybe if I can sort out my visa, I’ll move back to Berlin.” His myspace informs me that he also plans to soon release a cassette tape of tunes entitled Space Eagle [the motion picture soundtrack], “but is having difficulty due to multiple hard drive failures, laptops dying and other technological disasters.” Hence the love, hate relationship with his computer tools.

Catch Alaska In Winter and its “virtual video orchestra” on his UK tour, before his impending battle with immigration.

Two Door Cinema Club are three Northern Irish lads from Co. Down, who, armed with a trusty Macintosh, are intent on providing our dance floors with some bona fide, hooky and melodic electro pop. Along their journey so far, they have been compared to The Postal Service, Death Cab For Cutie and Broken Social Scene, booked – to support Mancunian indie-ravers Delphic – and signed by Parisian cool cats, Kitsune and have had their lastest single, I Can Talk picked up and shuffled around with by Basquetronic East Londers, Crystal Fighters.

An impressive CV so far, so we got them locked into a quick fire question and answer session and they hit us back with tit bits of sounds, chick flicks and most importantly, girls.

You recently signed with Kitsune. Is there an album coming up?

There sure is! We just finished the mixes with Eliot James and Philipe Zdar (of French duo Cassius) recently so we’re all set for a early 2010 release. We did the recording in West London with Eliot over July and August. He mixed the album tracks as well. Then we went to Paris to mix the singles with Philipe.

Should we expect something similar to your singles “Something Good Can Work” (video above) and “I Can Talk” (released via Kitsune on November 16th)?

There are a lot of different sounds across the album and I think those two singles are already pretty different anyway. In the end it’s going to be a fast paced, electro pop album. That’s our aim.

What’s the story of how you met?

Alex and Kev actually met in cub scouts but they weren’t particularly friends. Alex and Sam met early on in high school. Then Kev came back into the frame when he was trying to get with pretty much all our friends… who were girls.

Are you all still living in Ireland?

We came to London in June for the album and have pretty much just stayed ever since. We basically split our time between London, our tour van and travel lodges. When we’re not on tour, Sam still splits his time between London and Ireland.

What music have you been listening to lately?

We’ve been really into Phoenix recently, since we got a chance to cover one of their tracks (Lasso) for their repackage. Other bands we like are The Hold Steady, Mew, Mumford and Sons, The Decemberists, Bon Iver and The National.

What do you think about the synth-pop bands trend currently going on?

I think the genre is a little saturated at the moment. In essence, the style is great but as with every genre, there’s good and bad. Which is why we try to stay away from pigeon holing our sound too much, so we don’t get caught up in the trend.

What sort of things do you enjoy doing with your free time?

We don’t really get much free time but any time we do get we catch up with friends and girlfriends, who we don’t get to see as much as we’d like. Sam is partial to a wee chick flick as well.

Who would you die for to play with?

Wouldn’t die to play with anyone… but The Beatles??

What is the last gig you went to?

Golden Silvers on the NME Radar Tour and Idlewild recently.

What are your aspirations as a band?

To have fun, play music and hopefully for people to like it. Ideally, we’d like to be able to survive just from playing in a band.

The culmination of their Kitsune support slot with Delphic is an East London Warehouse Party this Halloween (Saturday 31st). We think it’ll be worth visitting and no doubt, you’ll be hooked to Two Door Cinema Club too.