VINYL OF THE MONTH

Mike Lindsay Supershapes: Volume 1 (Moshi Moshi)

Brighton’s Preston Park came alive this weekend in the most magnificently colourful, sparkling and diverse celebration of love in all its forms for the UK's most famous LGBTQ+ community fundraiser.

Barefoot in Bryophyte is a collaboration between musicians embedded in Norway’s jazz and experimental music scenes. Some of it, though, sounds nothing like what might be expected. Take the fourth track, “Paper Fox.” Figuratively, it lies at the centre of a Venn Diagram bringing together Mazzy Star, 4AD’s 1984 This Mortal Coil album It'll End in Tears and the more minimal aspects of Baltimore’s Beach House. It’s quite something.

After Sex Pistols have played “New York,” the fourth song in their set, someone from the audience shouts “Anarchy in the U.K.” "We've already played it, you fucking idiot" responds Sid Vicious. They have. It was the first song they did at Kristinehamn’s Club Zebra.

The request begs the question of whether the person calling out knew what “Anarchy in the U.K.” sounded like. They may have known of “Anarchy in the U.K.” but not actually heard it. Considering where the particular show was, the information gap is possible.

Attending an outdoor event anywhere in the UK – especially given the summer we’ve not been having this year – is always a bit of a gamble. And it’s fair to say Glasgow’s in a bit of a high risk category, but fortunately Tuesday’s weather was glorious for American synth-pop band Future Islands as they played at Kelvingrove Bandstand and Amphitheatre as part of this year’s Summer Nights series. 

The weather is perfect. Rare at a festival in this country. The sun shines. Occasional clouds pass. There’s a light breeze. Flamingods are on the Charlie Gillett stage. They are a London-based unit of primarily Bahraini origin who make psychedelic-electronic rock tinged with exotica and Middle Eastern flavour. Very WOMAD, in other words.

I sometimes think I’ve done the festival thing the wrong way round. When my babies were at their littlest, we did the big ‘uns – Latitude, Wilderness, Blue Dot, and the like – all family "friendly", but with slightly wilder, bigger, more adulty vibes. I figured if I was going to be up all night with babes in arms I may as well be in a field, on the fringes of some great music and colourful experiences.

Still Willing opens with “Upper Ferntree Gully,” a seven and three-quarter minute workout twice as long as most of the other nine tracks on Personal Trainer’s second album. A portmanteau piece, its most direct sections have the chug of vintage Pavement, some stabbing early Tame Impala guitar and chunks of Sonic Youth-like squall. Yo La Tengo also aren’t far.

The conundrum central to library music is that it was not meant to be listened to in any normal way. Yet, in time, this is what happened. What ended up on the albums pressed by companies like Bruton, Chappell, De Wolfe and others was heard by subscribers – the records did not end up for sale in shops or on the record players sitting in the nation’s homes.

You can take the woman out of the Left Bank, but you can’t take the Left Bank out of the woman. Madeleine Peyroux would be perfectly at home in a boîte in the Latin Quarter, or perhaps Montparnasse. Alas, we were in the sadly unromantic surrounds of London’s Barbican, where the lighting crew had done a good job of creating a smoky vibe before curtain-up.