Streetlife DJs

Stewart Rowell was a hip-hop scavenger in his day, and his partner, Louis Gaston, was an ex-warehouse raver. It was never doubtful, therefore, that profilic things would occur once they’d met in 1998. Within a year they started their own record label, progressive/tribal/tech POD Recordings. “We had that for three years” says Rowell, “and wound it up in 2003 because we wanted a change in direction”. This ‘change’ gave birth to Streetlife DJs.

Unrestrainedly shredding the ‘How To: Book of Mixing’, Streetlife DJs adhere to one motto and one motto only - “the rules are…there are no rules”. This basically means nothing is safe. Genres are ripped apart and reborn. For Rowell, this “can be 80s, it can be 90s, it can be the noughties, rave music, disco, hiphop, electro. You name it, it all gets thrown into the bag”.

Connections with Belgium’s mashup masters, 2ManyDjs, will undoubtedly be made and, Rowell admits, the association is “quite flattering”. “We mix a lot of different styles, it’s cut-and-paste, it’s ravey, there’s lots of energy” he compares, whilst maintaining some distance, “but we throw our own little spin on it”.

The most notable difference, as far as Rowell can ascertain, “is that the Soulwax boys come from an indie rock background” whereas he and Gaston “come from dance”. The historically-flavoured composition of their work is also easily separated by the environment that they each occupy. “When you listen to those guys there’s a real European feel for what they’re doing” Rowell presumes, whereas “generally the UK dance scene stands out on its own”. Ostensibly, he believes there to be a definite distinction between the sounds here in the UK and the sounds of Europe and North America.

Streetlife DJs rampantly pillage mainstream pop, old skool hip-hop, pure rave and disco bliss. This enables them to effortlessly perform sets which blend Daft Punk and Lenny Kravitz, ACDC with Busy P, Depeche Mode with Altern8 and Klaxons with Justin Timberlake.

This adriot teamwork has seen them deliver a sacrificial Essential Mix for the Radio 1 junkies whilst securing them a residency at Turnmills monthly get-together, Together. Rowell insists no other club in London creates the atmosphere they seek. “It’s a great crowd, it’s a really fun night and that suits our style of DJing”. Sadly, for him, this interview was conducted prior to the breaking news regarding Turnmills imminent closure. Hopefully, for him, Together will procure a new home.

Together @ Turnmills

The recent news regarding the imminent closure of Turnmills didn’t deter the young, glittered faces of Together’s multifarious friends. The itching revellers were baying to get busy. This was Together’s 2nd birthday bash and, as such, a grown-up kids party ensued. There were decorations, there were goody bags, there was even ice cream and jelly.

All partisans reacted with gusto, donning bright, gaudy, ridiculous costumes for effect: giant afros, native American headdresses, wedding gowns, Postman Pats, leprachauns, sharks. The variety in fashion was as erratic as the music itself.

In the big room, resident Anil Chawla made subtle dashes into dark, swirling, shadowy tech so as to not frighten the guests away too early. From there, Hot Chip’s beardy Joe Goddard laid down a subdued set - perhaps one more suited to an over-the-waves, sunny Thai beach than a sweaty London birthday party – thus saving the raucous, whooping, hollering behaviour for the headliners. And sure enough, just as Fischerspooner introduced their special electro-popping New York art, the punters began to glaze over.

For those that didn’t automatically buy into the big indie names plastered all over the flyer (Fischerspooner, Foals, Maccabees, Hot Chip) a louder, more crunchier filling was available in the satellites. Although the big boys did a sterling job, the discreet “(DJ Set)” scrawled next to their billing meant they were always going to be simply silver medal.

The minions of the night, the ones that actually DJ for a living, were prolifically more indulgent than their supposed superiors. Evil Nine’s punk rock breakbeat and John Kennedy’s kickstart electro storm were both assuredly humming yet neither were as gratefully received as the rare sighting of Rex the Dog. Cordially dropping their remix masterpiece, ‘Tony The Beat’ (The Sounds), their pure knob-twiddling, feel-good, mash-mania brought the temperature to a gritty boil, whilst skimming the danceable realms of Daft Punk’s computerised disco. Plonk, bang, whizz, beep.

Disappointing crowd controls at both the entrance and the toilets meant considerable queuing hurdles throughout the night. But, the sheer volume of the unfaltering crowd undoubtedly maintained the freshness.

Apocalyptica

The flamboyant nature of music is constantly evolving and throwing up exciting new crossovers to bring vibrance to its expanding tapestry. Folk-punk, alt-country, tech-house and grindie all originate from the realm of exploratory-splicing. And, although Apocalyptica delightfully skip side by side with other genre-crossers, they are unquestionably one of the most innovative. Taking in the oft-thought disparate branches of classical and heavy metal, they fuse an emotive variety of their own. I caught up with lead cellist, Eicca Toppinen, to discover how it all came about.

Citing a mishmash of musicians as inspiration – “Bjork, Massive Attack, Slayer, even some pop acts” – Toppinen believes it’s possible to “find the same kind of feelings from very different styles of music”. He also sees “music is an abstract thing. It is just a bunch of emotions” which, ultimately, can sometimes make it “impossible to identify what the song is about”. This could be why, therefore, Apocalyptica’s September 2007 release – the aptly named, Worlds Collide – is so unclassifiable. Toppinen promises “every song has a different mood or background”.

The rise of Apocalyptica has been a slow but measured process. Beginning as a group of young metalheads studying classical instruments in Finland, the four-cellists-and-a-drummer were initially brought to the fore by their experimental covers album, Plays Metallica By Four Cellos, over a decade ago.

Toppinen admits that the project was only meant as a frolicsome folly at the time as they didn’t really perceive themselves as a band - “we were just a bunch of friends who wanted to have fun together”. The covers trend continued throughout their popular work until, in 2001, they released Cult, an album which saw original material added to their playlist. “From there”, Toppinen mentions, “we started the journey to find the identity for the band”.

Part of this identity was revealed by adding a drum dynamic to the group’s setup. Toppinen accepts that it was a move that fundamentally “started a new age of Apocalyptica. The drummer put a lot of new impact into the band”.

Surprisingly, after working together for such a long time, Worlds Collide is the band’s first full length original album. Having previously worked with extra-heavy heavyweights such as Bullet For My Valentine’s Matt Tuck, Soulfly’s Max Cavalera and Ville Valo from HIM, Toppinen was keen to continue the trend by adding more well-known names to the rollcall. “It was actually very interesting to get new people with fresh ideas in”, he says, mentioning names such as Corey Taylor (Slipnot), Dave Lombardo (Slayer) and Till Lindemann (Rammstein) in the same breath. It’s no wonder, therefore, he claims the live performance is a “really powerful, pure rock and roll show” where mosh pits and bodysurfing are the norm.

Bullet For My Valentine

Matt Tuck is Bullet For My Valentine’s consummate team captain. He is also your archtypal frontman. He writes the songs. He sings the songs. He provides the face that launches a thousand pumping fists. From BFMV HQ – aka, Mum and Dad’s house – in the valleys, Tuck delivers a well-honed tale of hard work and gritty determination, one that is bolstered by a distinguished Welsh gutteral cadence. “It’s modern metal, it’s got everything – aggression, passionate lyrics, heartfelt melodies – I think people should give it a chance”. This, his poignant message to those who might have missed BFMV or not fully explored the area marked ‘Heavy Metal: enter at your peril’.

The pitch of his voice is almost defensive, as though he constantly has to justify his band’s status. “People should not judge a book by its cover. Don’t think it’s cliché and cheesey. Because it’s heavy metal people assume that is going to be like Iron Maiden”. But, as evidence clearly suggests, Bullet For My Valentine really have nothing to prove.

Formed in 2003, the band’s nimble rise to the heady heights of hairy rock godliness has been triggered by a series of crucial factors: the release of the hugely successful debut album, The Posion; followed swiftly by a tour that didn’t stop until the wheels fell off; and, possibly most importantly, the erudite input of legendary producer, Colin Richardson.

Richardson has worked with many of the industry’s stalwarts – Cradle Of Filth, Machine Head, Sepultura, Slipnot – but is usually accustomed to a sedentary studio role. “He’s definitely been part of how we make the sound, how we do sonically on a CD”, says Tuck, not forgetting to mention how Richardson is also “a very cool guy”.

It was Richardson who supervised the creation of the hook-heavy, riff-drenched Poison in 2005. That album went on to clock more than a million global sales as well a Kerrang! Award for Best British Newcomer. Metal Hammer went one better the following year and crowned them Britain’s Best Band. These are probably the highest accolades ever bestowed upon any erstwhile Bridgend College music students.

Metal fans notoriously desire the live performance. It is the playground they use to expel massive quantities of aggressive energy. And so, with The Poision completely injected into their collective psyche, fans of BFMV were treated to a relentless juggernaut tour. The band spent close to two solid years on the road, providing support for some of metal’s legendary bastions, as well as billing on the Warped tour, the Kerrang! Tour and the Download Festival.

Speaking with genuine awe about BFMV’s involvement with Iron Maiden and Metallica, Tuck lavishes gratitude. “They’re two of the biggest influences on our band. We were very honoured to be part of their tours. For them to know who we were was an amazing thing but for us to go on tour with them and to become friends with them, to this day, I’ve got to pinch myself. It’s a bit weird”.

The band’s sophomore release, Scream Aim Fire, was released earlier this year to critical acclaim from both the media and the fans. It has been followed by yet another goliath road trip that is currently trundling across the US plains. The lessons learnt between the previous round and the completion of this latest project were essential. “We learnt how to cope with being on the road as well and to look after ourselves. When the EP came out four years ago we partied hard and we were just enjoying the lifestyle. It was all fresh and new. As soon as the headline shows start to come you cant do that any more. You have to be professional about it”.

So pressed for time and so desperate was their thirst to achieve greatness, that BFMV wrote the majority of Scream Aim Fire whilst still on tour with the last album. And as inspiration goes, natural clichés will occur when you’re stuck at the back of a bus all day. Some of the newer material is understandably about “being on the road” and about “the last 3 years, the highs and the lows of an up-and-coming rock band”. But equally, some of it is lyrically eclectic, touching on matters such as warfare, bullying and revenge. These subjects are inclined to produce fairly apocalyptic song titles - ‘Eye of the Storm’, ‘Heart Bursts Into Fire’, ‘Waking The Demon’, ‘Deliver Us From Evil’ - yet, with a soft chuckle of what could be pride, Tuck confesses, “They’re not as sinister as they sound”.

The idea of ever suffering from the dreaded ‘difficult second album’ sydrome is an aspect Tuck dismisses instantly. “We didn’t really have time to think about it. As soon as you start worrying about that you can stray down the wrong path”. Scream Aim Fire - which was recorded in America to save on costs - is similar to, but not the same as, The Poison. The pounding tempos and killer choruses still exist. “We haven’t strayed too far out from what we do”, Tuck is adamant, continuing, “Our sound, our identity is still definitely there. We’ve just improved as musician, as a band. We took the bits from The Poison that really worked and just tried to make the dynamics on this one a lot more intense”. This surge involved doubling the lead guitar and vocals to deliver something that was, according to Tuck, “overall, sonically, twice as big. The heavier stuff is a lot thrashier and when we go into the power ballad world we’re really going into it. We made it as big as possible. It sounds just like huge arena-style melodic thrash metal”.

Keeping the tempo of the final tour show as fresh as the first is never an easy task but Tuck approximates it to simplistic fervour. “Just the pure love and passion for what we do. We worked so hard to get where we are that every night we just want to go out there and play the best we can. People pay money and travel far distances to come and see a band they love so the least we can do is try and rock them as hard as possible”.

In only a few short years, Bullet For My Valentine have catapulted out into the rock stratosphere. Once upon a time they were unsigned and yet still had the gumption to turn down a record deal proffered by Roadrunner Records, instead holding out for a better deal with Sony BMG. With that contract now well into its second cycle, the band have gone on to achieve the ultimate token of accomplishment - a feature on my blog. Congratulations lads, but where to from here?

Lies About My Friends (part 1): LARA

Little, if anything, is known about Lara. Sure, between us, her friends could quite easily compile great tomes of insightful follies based upon her momentary mystique. She’s synonymous with camaraderie and kinship. But as individuals, we, as friends, are fairly clueless. You see, the bigger picture, the full majesty of Lara, is a total enigma.

I, myself, have collected a few small shards from the mirror of gospel truth but nothing significant enough to reflect the unabridged chronicle. Example being - she famously keeps good time. You can literally set your watch by her. The most memorably party trick she has demonstrated, so far, is the uncanny ability to challenge the speaking clock. She has never been out by more than five seconds.

As a pal and confidant she is usually at hand to offer her opinion on matters of a sensitive nature. Yet, to this day, her most determined piece of advice has always been “You can never have too much glue”. You can rightly understand, therefore, why she scares the bejesus out of the majority of people.

To my knowledge, her favourite book is The Mouse And The Valentine. This is not, as most would believe, because she empathises with the bombastic characters or gets involved with benevolent storyline, but because the frisson that passes through her whilst actually reading that particular text is a strong and reliable harbinger of joyous, yet unrelated, events. These have included a paltry, yet welcoming, scratchcard windfall; a fortuitous meeting with a long-forgotten school pal; and some ill-deserved praise bestowed upon her by her cantankerous boss.

Another brief memoir cemented in my regard involves Lara’s entrance into, and subsequent appropriation of, the Doggone Champs dog show championship, location and exact date unknown. It came as much a surprise to Lara as it did to all that were present. This, she tells me, was because her rather ropey Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, Napoleon, fought off heavyweight challenges from previous winners Gautam and his French Bulldog, Aurora, in addition to Dion with Blackler the Pekingese,. Why she remembers the opponents’ names and not the venue or timeframe of the occasion is a mystery. She had read The Mouse And The Valentine on the day before the event took place, however.

No one really knows where Lara came from. For instance, her historical tutelage pre-dating the age of twenty is hazy, at best. Some say she was expelled from every school she enrolled at because her flagrant fascination with fire extinguishers was incessant. Others insist that she was actually an exemplary student. They claim that, in her formative years, her burgeoning academic prowess was punctuated by a cavalcade of impressive fundraising activities throughout the local district, which she autonomously formulated and directed.

Her nationality is also a question of rabid debate. Her slight New Zealand drawl implies residency in Australasia at some point in time yet her ownership of various beguiling passports only exacerbates her anonymous guise. There have been theories that she was, in fact, born a native of the Southern Americas and brought East by an environmental politician known to her biological family. This would certainly explain her faint ochre pigmentation.

Somewhere along the line she arrived in London and when she did, she was not alone. Her sister was by her side. See, Lara is one of a pair of identical twins. A shared life of truly girly proportions. Between them, Lara and Talullah have demonstrated the implausible duality of womenkind. Her sister, for example, is one of the healthiest, curviest, and most dazzling of females. As a professional model, Talullah’s strut has transformed a thousand catwalks into works of exquisite art. The fettle of femininity has undoubtedly been kind to dear Talullah.

Lara, on the other hand, is not so blessed. Her appearance, although comely like her sibling, is predominantly clunky and uncouth. She cannot dress, she cannot dance and never has hair looked so uncomfortable on top of someone’s head. Regardless of the style, Lara’s mop constantly appears to be attempting an escape. Oddly, though, Lara has never been lacking in advances from either sex.

(FOR REMAINDER OF THIS PIECE PLEASE CONTACT CHRISTIAN)

Morcheeba

However you feel about Morcheeba, it’s probably wrong. Upon reading the name you’re already placing yourself in a cerebral, golden-hued utopia where long, hot baths are mandatory and lazy, sun-basking afternoons happen EVERY day, not just on Sundays.

And why should you think differently, really? After all, Morcheeba’s downtempo blend of soul-pop and R&B has a strong association with Mother Nature’s lulling influences: songs like ‘The Sea’ and ‘Trigger Hippie’; albums such as Big Calm and The Antidote; and, for their latest trick - Dive Deep - an 11-track body of work that is flooded with oceanic indulgence (‘Enjoy The Ride’, ‘Washed Away’, ‘Riverbed’). The band were even fronted by a vocalist called Skye once upon a time, so the hypnotic nature of nature itself provocates this soothing guise. And yet the daydream is more sour than the immediacy alludes because the foundation that lies beneath is one of meloncholic instability.

Paul Godfrey is one half of Morcheeba’s driving force. He also a very serious man. He is not the sort to laugh heartily. For many artists of his ilk it is commonplace to utterly immerse themselves in the process of producing music. But for Paul, working on Dive Deep meant more than just working a few extra hours on the weekend.

“It was therapy really,” he told base recently, during a conversation that ironically interrupted his “cathartic” duty of throwing away unwanted CDs, as though he were “shedding skin”. “It was kind of confronting my demons in a really strong way,” was his confession regarding the album, adding, “more than I have done before, and then trying to be brave and just go with the flow, be accepting.”

Following their fifth album, The Antidote, the relationship with his brother and co-band member, Ross, “was on the rocks” and when Ross moved to LA, Morcheeba was at a near-terminal juncture. This work pressure, exacerbated by the death of their father, crippled Paul psychologically and was followed by long periods in bed.

Eventually deciding his condition was partly treatable through the propitious elements of music, Paul began work on Morcheeba: Mark II. His brother relinquished all command of the production so that Paul could draw the most from it. And for his troubles, Paul endured two long years of bad dieting, 16-hour days and rest periods spent sleeping on the studio floor. “I was really pushing myself because I wasn’t rebelling against other people so much. I was rebelling against myself”. Yet, despite this abnormal human behaviour, Paul’s declaration is open. He “wasn’t relying on alcohol or drugs for Dutch courage” throughout the album’s palliative course. His straightness was his strength.

Neither did he allow outside influences to permeate his focused psyche, almost making an island of himself. “I didn’t want to be influenced by outside music. It was more important to make a record that I was really feeling”. Music, TV, radio and printed publications were thus banned.

The finalised project is imminent and thankfully, for Paul, it helps him feel “like a proud father”. The exploratory development of Dive Deep has opened up exciting new options for Morcheeba, which promises to leave its listeners amazed. “It’s come off really well,” Paul is adamant, “artistically, it’s our best record for a really long time, if not ever.”

When Skye left Morcheeba in 2003, an attempt was made to reinstate a permanent singer for fifth album, but that relationship ended soon after as well. Paul is frank about the reasons behind these decisions - “It was never fair on our singers to be thrust out there, to carry so much of the front person thing” – and similarly indicates how it ostensibly influenced the shape of Dive Deep - “It wasn’t fair on the music either to have that kind of distraction.”

This detachment reaction became a venture into the now-popular use of external talent as the music’s partisan voice. Materialising through collusions with a series of “happy accident” randoms, Paul opted to utilise resources like iTunes and MySpace for the sheer exposure to quality - “It wasn’t a question of throwing money at them because we didn’t really have any”. The “really good marriage of collaborations”, as Paul calls it, was, by his own admission, “all very natural as well.”

The guests that finally aided Paul with his sample-slicing, emotive endeavour were varied. They included established singer-songwriters like Judie Tzuke; spirited French vocalist, Manda; earnest Cool Calm Pete, the rapper; and, the Mak of All Trades, the fluteboxing (!?) Scouser.

The writing was often shared with these artists, Paul working “more as an editor/producer” at times. “It brought the best out of every situation and channelled it into the mood I’d had for the record,” admits Paul, “it was kind of like it was meant to be”. Every answer possessing a hidden meaning. Every word well considered. And equally, he is ambitious about the way the album will connect with its listeners. “I hope with the music I can maybe hand down some of this experience and these feelings to people who don’t have a lot of spare time”. So, perhaps we should all reconsider when next hearing the name Morcheeba. Especially, for those who are suffering. “Hopefully people will respond to it and it will make them feel better.”

Kill. Kill. Kill

How do you kill a circus?

Go for the juggler.

The Rake

14 Winchester Walk, Borough Market SE1 9AG

Claim #1: it’s the first licensed pub in a hundred years to open within the legal confines of Borough Market

Claim #2: it’s London’s smallest pub

Claim #3: it has 380 different beers per year and has access to over 2000

Claim #4: In the 18 months since opening, it’s been Runner Up in the Observer’s 2007 Best Bar of the Year competition and overall winner in Time Out’s equivalent contest

Claim #5: it’s Myleene Klass’ local

Sounds pretty snazzy. Until looking a little closer, that is.

Claim #1: True, it is VERY close to Borough Market. Which is mainly because the librarians of beer – Utobeer - decided that their premium beer stall in the market was simply not enough and settled for something more permanent. Which is handy, if the fashionable fragrance of the moment is L’eau de Fish by Wiffy Miyake or Rotten (Fruit) pour homme by Tommy Stinkfinger.

Claim #2: Being only marginally larger than a snooker table still in its box, The Rake is best suited to those who find the tube at rush hour charmingly capacious. There’s more room between the end of this sentence and the beginning of the next. In fact, it’s so ‘cosy’, the gents facility is conveniently located outside. In the car park. Next to the wheelie bins, which themselves double up as table tops when more than five people enter the bar at once and dispersion is required. Remarkably, it’s the ideal venue for a date. If you get bored of your would-be suitor, you can always turn you head just a few degrees and start chatting with the faces next to you. You would’ve already been listening to their conversation anyway.

Claim #3: Beer, yes, they have a lot. They have more of the stuff than there are people to drink it. And if you don’t like beer? Well, what are you doing there in the first place?! The ‘try before you buy’ policy is very much geared towards education, leaving you with the difficult decision – the pilsners, the porters, the brown wheat, the locals, the soul ales, the Californian lagers, the champagne beers, the trapiste monk beers, the fruit beers, the light beers, the white beers, or the stupidly strong beers (an 11.7%er, if you will). Clearly, problems can arise when choosing. Which is then exacerbated by the length of time it takes to be served – roughly equal to the time it takes to brew it. Peering at the staff cooped up in their cage, it’s easy to sympathise with their Victor Meldrew social demeanour. And if you will ask to see the menu, don’t expect anything but tins of £3 ‘Convivial’ crisps.

Claim #4: Accolades are easily bought these days when the wrong information circulates around the right kind of people. The Rake thus insists on pricing itself expectantly high. This has naturally caught the attention of The Suits who squeeze themselves into the sterile space, conduct noisy conversations through their armpits which bounce off the ceiling and hard floors thus drowning out the desperate need for music.

Claim #5: Myleene…..reason enough NOT to go.

Plans are being developed to open two more locations: a shoe box somewhere in West London and on top of a leaf floating down the River Thames. Hmm, cant wait.

10 out of 10 for the beer selection, 5 out of 10 for having limited Klass.