Why does 28-year-old Mac DeMarco command so much reverence from so many younger fans, right across the world? It’s a question as old as time (or, well, circa 2013), and yet, a definitive answer is still outstanding. Sure, there’s the midpoint he strikes between authenticity and unconcern. There’s the albums and countless live shows that veer between inward-gazing, heart-stung, silly and fun as all fuck (and who, juvenile or flirting with the grave, can’t get behind that?) Then there’s the tattered baseball cap and rollies chic, which is every bit as dominant as a love of the harmonic twists and turns that…
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The accepted trajectory of momentum in modern music can be an almighty fucker. But it’s no indelible law. There are, after all, those artists who somehow manage to ride the killer wave without buckling at the knees, being swiftly consigned to the industry seabed and bid adieu with a muffled chorus of, “See? Told you they weren’t all that.” In the case of the irrepressible Idles, it seems that no amount of five-star reviews or bandwidth-shagging kudos can derail their focus from what they already have: killer songs brimming with pit-starting transmissions of self-love and tolerance, and an ever-growing fanbase whose wide-eyed love of their music outshines the tut and tsk of even the…
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“We’ve heard the bar will be closed during this performance, so this might be a long 45 minutes. But we’ll suffer through it together.” Gyan Riley is sat across from his 85-year-old father, Terry, on-stage at Dublin’s The Sugar Club. Before them, watching on from tiered cinema seating and plush velvet banquettes, is a small sea of muted smiles that strong suggest that sufferance – or anything resembling it – is far from on the cards this evening. Hosted by the city’s perennial gatekeepers of good taste, Choice Cuts, it’s the first of a two-night residency from The Rileys and the…
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Anna Calvi is a musician who seems deeply invested in the art of the crescendo. Blessed with a gargantuan set of pipes, she can veer from a hushed mumble to clarion operatic tone in an instant, archly imbuing her music with shade and suspense and conjuring up bombastic, room shaking coups de grace that punctuate her grand musical statements. Tonight Calvi’s darkly theatrical persona will dominate The Empire’s striking Victorian music hall, an ideal setting for her apocalyptic brand of cabaret which promises to bombard the audience with head spinning guitar pyrotechnics, dramatic key changes and thrilling, shrieked finales. Stepping…
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There’s a medium-sized crowd at Vicar Street to welcome Julien Baker and her support act Becca Mancari to Dublin. Opening the night on a lovely note, Mancari’s mostly acoustic songs are simple yet emotional and her passionate takes about performing on a tour of two queer women are both endearing and inspiring. She’s a perfect compliment for Baker’s style with just enough hope to balance out the sadness of the latter’s music. There’s something incredible about Julien Baker and her talents. Baker has a particularly special type of stage presence. The atmosphere she controls and creates is impenetrable – every…
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The bitter nights may have crept in but a jam-packed Luas to The Point Depot keeps makes it a cosy spin. This is the first of two sold-out Arctic Monkeys shows in Dublin’s 3Arena. A lush stage setup resembling a hotel lounge illuminates at 9 o’clock as the house lights go down. The now packed venue explodes as the Sheffield heroes walk on stage dressed in tailor made suits and shiny leather shoes. Alex Turner, sporting a tight new haircut, has developed a hybrid aesthetic of a skin head and Nick Cave. They launch into ‘4 out of 5’, the lead single…
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As Mitski takes to the Tivoli stage, accompanied by her four-piece band, there are shrieks and howls from the sea of caps and thick-rimmed glasses before her. Support act EERA have clearly warmed up the crowd sufficiently with their blend of dream-pop and indie rock. Aside from that, it’s clear that the crowd are not just casual listeners: they are fanatics. As the abrasive and electric opening riff of ‘Remember My Name’ rears it’s ugly head, Mitski remains stationary, with her hands behind her back, looking slightly upward. She appears powerful in this stance, proving that one does not need flashy…
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It takes a very special kind of band to, at least in the right setting, meddle with one’s most basic understanding of time. Wooden Shjips are one such band. Tonight at Belfast’s Empire Music Hall, the San Francisco psych rock alchemists’ reiterative, lysergic-dappled craft induces a trip that all but stretches the parameters of chronological perception. Laying the groundwork is one of the country’s most singular solo talents, Cian Nugent (below). Despite almost being consumed by the frankly shameful hubbub of tonight’s growing crowd, he casts a subtle, yet potent spell as tonight’s sole support. Stripped-back and drawn-out is the order of the day for a set…
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Unlike many of their MTV2-approved peers whose day in the sun came to end many years ago, Incubus, it would seem, have aged surprisingly well. Having weathered getting older via a string of latter-era albums that aren’t (entirely) unlistenable, live, Brandon Boyd, Mike Einziger and co. still possess that which helped set them apart at the turn of the millennium. Doubling up as their long-awaited Belfast debut, tonight’s show at the iconic Ulster Hall is full testament to that. 27 years and eight albums in, the Californian band have long known what their fans have come to expect and deliver accordingly.…
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Frankie Cosmos’s Greta Kline is an artist who oozes cool credibility. A startlingly talented songwriter with a steadfastly DIY ethos, the native New Yorker began garnering acclaim for her music when she was still just a teenager, using Bandcamp to release a veritable avalanche of bedroom pop gems in just a few short years. Now signed with Sub Pop records and touring off the back of Frankie Cosmos’ third full length album, this evening’s show in Voodoo promises to showcase Kline’s wry poeticism and Lo-Fi yet sophisticated take on the indie pop genre. First sightings of Kline in Voodoo’s bar…