Like most of Hawley’s offerings, the record title references an area of his hometown of Sheffield. Less romanticized than its predecessors, the Skye Edge neighborhood is more noted for its checkered history, gang culture, and social problems. Set on the outskirts of the city in an elevated position, it also acts as a conduit for the narrative themes running through the record. Hawley is making political points as he considers damaged lives, the destructive nature of blind religion, and the legacy owed to children. But he is also reaching out to the cosmos, glorifying it musically while indicating our insignificance in it, denying any sense of a greater scheme behind it.

The first minute or so of the seven-minute opener, “She Brings the Sunlight”, scarcely prepares for the maelstrom that follows. Sitars and strings weave a deceptive magic before waves of distorted guitars and sonic drones hit. Hawley’s clear eulogizing of his loved one is masked by reverb to match the waves of instrumental intensity the singer-guitarist unleashes. “Down in the Woods” is a particularly impressive piece of elemental rock that reflects its back-to-nature theme, followed by a mellower turn as the softly loping melody of “Seek It” recalls classic 60’s pop.

“Leave Your Body Behind You” picks up the psychedelic baton again, echoing chiming guitar phrases while invoking a carpe diem attitude to counter personal loss. “Before” provides a perfect closer, sandwiching heroic guitar between quiet contemplation. It’s one of many standouts in a nine-song collection that engages body and mind throughout. In a throwaway era, Richard Hawley holds a torch for the craftsman.

Essential Tracks: “She Brings the Sunlight”, “Down in the Woods”, and “Leave Your Body Behind You”.

The band’s own musical influences cross decades so you can sense echoes of artists from Supertramp, 10cc, and Yes through to The Blue Nile, Radiohead, Elbow, and Fleet Foxes. The songs are intricately layered, with opener “Joyful Reunion” providing a fitting fanfare of punching horns, stabbing keys, and rumbling bass punctuated with sonar pulses over Elsenburg’s gently plaintive lead vocal. Jana Carpenter adds subtle harmonies here and there, blending with Elsenburg to best effect on the light and airy folk balladry of “Shadow Captain”. Each of the nine tracks offers something different to its fellows, from the precision progressions of “Archaeology” to the heartfelt, private questioning of “Brugada”, a song written in the wake of the untimely death of Elsenburg’s brother.

“Arrived At Upside Down”, with its playfully oblique musings – “Life is a place we arrive at upside down” – is a song that caresses rather than cajoles. Its pastoral evolution is nicely interrupted by a weird burst of Steve Howe-inspired guitar showered with odd orchestral embellishments. “Blue Sky Falls” offers a stately closer, moving from soft slow build to insistent refrain before dissolving into a short coda of notes delicately spinning into space. The record is littered with memorable hooks that lend immediate impact, yet like layers of an onion, it has an underlying richness of texture that makes you reach for more. It cleverly flits across genres so the band can sound like someone and also like no one. Such infidelity means the music is compelling and challenging from start to finish, a triumph of substance and style.

Essential Tracks: “Joyful Reunion”, “Arrived at Upside Down”, and “Brugada”

An everyday tale of tree-felling, the episodic “Old Pine” begins the record with melodic ebb and flow, as it recalls close camaraderie over summer days. It’s an atmospheric opener that sets a marker for what follows. The inevitability of time passage and the value of memories are regular themes in songs laced with strong hooks that quickly sound familiar. Vocally, Howard mixes a husky, laid back style with more than a hint of soul. On the brisk, rhythmic “Diamonds”, there are echoes of Lindsay Buckingham (think “Big Love”). This feel continues on one of the record’s highlights, “The Wolves”, a break-up song in which anger and impatience are expertly welded to a strident melody and exorcised through a lengthy coda.

Howard’s originality, though, is in his ability to create and reflect intimacy, to make his often opaque lyrics apposite and believable, and to always neatly wrap them in strong melodies and wiry rhythms. The album also benefits greatly from the ensemble playing of Howard’s bandmates, India Bourne and Chris Bond, who skilfully contribute a raft of instruments and complementary harmonies. The quality threshold is high throughout, whether it’s the pared down beauty of “Everything”, the empowering positive pop of “Keep Your Head Up”, or the epic gloom of “Black Flies”. Every Kingdom is quite a self-assured debut, delivered by a guy who could be your best friend and still date your sister.

Essential Tracks: “Old Pine”, “The Wolves”, “Black Flies”.

The production has a live, vintage edge to it throughout, and the way guitars and synths are used to add texture is impressive. Davenport sounds uncannily like actor Nicolas Cage; indeed his singsongy intonation conjures up a vision of Sailor Ripley, Cage’s character in David Lynch’s Wild at Heart. His vocal style, though, is both a strength and a constraint. It has enough distinction to stand out, but the variations in volume and especially pitch, as he slurs up the register to hit falsetto notes, are employed all too frequently. So, what is really effective delivery on the strong, mantra-like opening track, “Hell Needs Calvary”, tends to pall halfway through the 10-song collection.

That said, the front end of the record is pretty strong. The 80’s anthem “Intriguing Dilemma” and the pacy rocker “Invisible Ink” particularly hit home. However, a different vocal delivery here and there would have strengthened the album’s second half, which falters a little by comparison. Davenport’s songs often evoke David Bowie in construction and performance, and musically the album always maintains interest, even in its more exposed moments.

Essential Tracks: “Hell Needs Calvary”, “Intriguing Dilemma”, and “Invisible Ink”

“Everything changes when you grow old” is the first thing you read on the Summer Camp website and Wednesday night was all about youthful exuberance. It was mostly a young crowd; female biased and included an uncommon number of girls who use Ugly Betty as a style guide. Summer Camp seemed to have taken a cue from this too with guitar and synth man, Jeremy Warmsley, resplendent in a bulky blue Hawaiian shirt and the lovely songstress, Elizabeth Sankey, in a dress that could have doubled as a beach towel. Joined by a drummer friend of the band (later civilly announced as just William), Summer Camp made an immediate impression opening with their album’s title track, “Welcome To Condale”; its irresistible “Coming home” chorus countering the darker images painted by the main lyric.

Breezing through songs from Condale and one from the Young EP, there’s a sense that the band are coasting a little. Though now and then sounding over-nasal in the mix, Sankey’s voice has surprising power and managed to soar over what was at times an uncomfortably dominant synth bass; the kind that makes you want to see a stomach surgeon. Warmsley’s guitar has a sharp tongue and cutting edge but the crowd reaction was no more than approving. It all changed with the high energy guitar intro to “Down” which signalled an upward curve reflected by the audience response. It was followed by an absolutely stellar vocal line from Sankey on the atmospheric “Done Forever” – a kind of Debbie Harry meets Florence moment.

Buoyed by this success, the band introduced a couple of new songs of which “(Give Me) Life” especially shone out. A big chord opening prepared the way for some classic 80’s synth pop that called to mind New Order or a more joyful division. Sankey out battled the progressively louder synth bass and pounding drums with another towering vocal performance. If this wasn’t enough crowd pleasure, what followed next was one of those precious live moments as the duo decamped to take a stroll among the crowd, treating us to a wholly unplugged version of “Losing My Mind”. Those chatting quickly fell silent as the serenade continued with Sankey stopping to flirt or pose while maintaining a pitch perfect vocal. Magical stuff.

They could hardly fail, following this with the ultra catchy singalong “Ghost Train” and their summer anthem, “Better Off Without You” before closing the set with the darkly emotive “I Want You” played to an appropriate backdrop of footage from John Hughes’ Pretty In Pink. Sankey’s vocal strength and ability to hold ultra long sustained notes put the inevitable bass boom in its place. There could only be one you wanted. Encores were fully merited and duly delivered in the contrasting shape of Fleetwood Mac’s “Everywhere”, given a soft acoustic treatment, and the pulsating fuzz of “Brian Krakow” with Warmsley now stepping up to take the lead. This band already has an impressive catalogue of pop tunes that stay with you in the way that classic songs do. Much of the duo’s content deals with coming of age and as a live act that pretty much sums up where Summer Camp is right now. Should be interesting to see what the next age brings.

Photography by (c) Nathan Dainty - www.verycreative.me.

Setlist:
Welcome To Condale
Last American Virgin
Nobody Knows You
Round The Moon
Down
Done Forever
Hunt
Summer Camp
(Give Me) Life
Losing My Mind
Ghost Train
Better Off Without You
I Want You
Encore:
Everywhere (Fleetwood Mac cover)
Brian Krakow
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Opening with the gently flirtatious “Tip Of My Tongue”, the vocalists meshed with uncanny precision and added some startling harmonies. The relatively straight country lick of “From This Valley” was peppered with vocal acrobatics while the plaintive guitar refrain of “20 Years” was echoed with dream-tender harmonies. So caught up in such moments, it was four songs into the set before the pair could relax and start some banter with the crowd. “Here’s the closest thing to a dance song,” White teased as he introduced “I’ve Got This Friend”.

Looking marginally less like a piratical Johnny Depp than usual, John Paul White was more Southern gentleman than lounge lizard in his tight-fitting tux, while Joy Williams in a chic black cocktail dress and heels played the perfect hostess joyful in her mum-to-be status. The unusually quiet, ultra attentive audience hung on every note and word, just now and again unleashing cat-calls of warm appreciation. The duo seemed genuinely humbled by this response and endeared itself by declaring any achievements in a self-effacing manner. Examples included their recent Grammy awards, chart success and plaudits from the likes of Adele.

Outwardly The Civil Wars appear like a happily married couple, which of course they are, though not to each other. Their on-stage chemistry is such that the songs are almost acted out, particularly by Williams who engages with her partner at every opportunity, shooting him almost lustful glances and physically showering affection. This added a unique dimension to what was a stripped bare stage set and worked in total sync with the music which blends country, folk, and Americana into a distinct and heady brew.

With just one EP and album to draw on, the duo do not shy from putting their personal spin on selective covers. A sublime version of Portishead’s “Sour Times” was served up with fresh dressing; the pair trading verses and coming together with hair-curling harmonies. The Jackson 5’s “I Want You Back” is reworked as a tender love song. For the encores “Billie Jean” became a soulful, slow shuffle and while Leonard’s Cohen’s “Dance Me to The End Of Love” seemed a low key choice to end on, it was enlivened by a loud stirring conclusion accompanied by handclaps.

Such was the depth of the songs on offer, it was hard to single out standouts from their own repertoire though mention must be made of the exquisite “Poison & Wine” a hypnotic mantra of counter emotions that reaches its zenith in the delicious irony of ‘I don’t love you but I always will.’ The loud strum of “Barton Hollow”, counter pointed by hushed vocal sections, saw the duo in delta blues mode while “To Whom It May Concern” stood out as a great melody matched by a stunning vocal from Williams. The song ends with the lines ‘Dear whoever you might be/I’m still waiting patiently’. Somehow I think the wait is over for The Civil Wars.

Photography by  Paul Hudson.

Setlist:
Tip Of My Tongue
Forget Me Not
From This Valley
20 Years
I’ve Got This Friend
Sour Times (Portishead Cover)
Barton Hollow
Falling
C’est La Mort
I Want You Back  (Jackson 5 Cover)
Birds Of A Feather
To Whom It May Concern
My Father’s Father
Poison & Wine
Encore:
Billie Jean  (Michael Jackson cover)
Dance Me To The End Of Love  (Leonard Cohen cover)

The rage at perceived injustice is still here yet some signs that age and experience have mellowed O’Connor. There’s a smattering of romantic songs along with pain, regret and, not least, vitriol aimed at a familiar target of hers, the Catholic Church. Viewed as a whole the album forms an impressive collection of songs and moods, but taken in sequence it doesn’t quite knit together. It’s a stop/start ride that carries you from the light and fluffy to the deeply sonorous. Interestingly the love songs are a coincidental celebration of her recent marriage as they were written between 2007-9 when the singer was with her previous partner. They reveal rather her strong need to love and to be loved.

The opener, “4th And Vine”, is a lightweight ditty set to an infectious shuffle beat. O’Connor looks forward to dressing up in pink and putting eyeliner on like she’s turning the clock back to a rosy bloom of youth. OK, some sentiments are trite and seem to belong to a much younger girl (“Not that he’s no wuss/Girls you know his love is serious”), but it’s difficult to stop the tune rebounding around your brain. As powerfully emotive as the next song is, to follow this with the darkly chilling “Reason With Me” dealing with drug addiction and the imperfect hope of redemption is a bit too much of a contrast.

And so it goes through the record. The rocky “Old Lady” in which O’Connor relives an old girlish crush is followed by her tirade against Catholic denial in “Take Off Your Shoes”. A saving grace, however, is that wherever the mood takes her, O’Connor’s vocals remain fine throughout. That breathy quality that mixes a raw edge with crystal clarity, power with silkiness is ever present. She can turn the volume on and off with precision. This is best illustrated on O’Connor’s cover of John Grant’s “Queen Of Denmark”. The song could have almost been written for her and she spits out the anger of a lover’s scorn without compromising the dark humour of Grant’s own words.

Elsewhere on the remaining self-penned songs, O’Connor embraces country sensibilities in the gentle, lolling “Very Far From Home”, her take on the downside of a musician’s life on the road, while the eulogy “Back Where You Belong” handles the subject of a family death with rare tenderness. The soft pulsing electronica of “I Had A Baby” provides a backbeat to the aftermath of paternal rejection beside the actual birthing. The most commercial song is undoubtedly “The Wolf Is Getting Married”, so titled as it cites an Arab expression for a break in the clouds O’Connor first heard from a taxi driver: “The wolf’ smiles as he’s on his way to his wedding.” O’Connor has taken that oddly poetic idea and woven a joyous celebratory song around it destined to be on many wedding singers’ request lists. The melody lines may be familiar but from the muted keyboard opening to the ringing guitars it’s a perfectly crafted pop song.

The album closes with “VIP”, a hymnal that makes for uncomfortable listening. A scarcely veiled attack against Bono and targeting inertia amongst her fellow Irish artists faced with Catholic hypocrisy, O’Connor’s overriding need to express her strength of feelings at any cost gets the best of her. Elsewhere, long-time producer and ex-husband John Reynolds has rooted much of the recorded sound in early ’90s pop-rock. The contemporary edge is really O’Connor’s and it comes from her drive and conviction, tempered by moments of joy and laughter. You may love or hate the record, but you won’t ignore it.

Essential Tracks: “The Wolf Is Getting Married”, “Queen Of Denmark”,  and “Reason With Me”.

Clarke, though, already has form. Runner-up in a big MTV unsigned show in 2008 did not bring the expected fame, but Clarke continued putting herself out there, gathering what she calls the Susie Clarke Collective – talented musicians, producers, and other creatives offering diverse roots and influences. Musically, the result is a fusion of styles embracing pop, soul, hip-hop, and reggae as a counterpoint to Clarke’s vocal, which is rooted in folk and soulful blues. This mix adds a vibrancy to the album, with variety the spice.

Here and Now is all about feelings and people who do or don’t articulate them. Relationships don’t come easy in Susie Clarke’s universe. She may be wise to the serial Lothario (“I Know Your Kind”), yet embraces heartache like an old friend, as in the classic balladry of “Like a River”. From the breezy staccato pop soul of “Sing to Me” to gentle acoustic closer “Fall Too Far”, there is always a welcoming warmth to Clarke’s voice. Sometimes the stylized vocal tics threaten to diminish that grace, but the vulnerability still comes through. Above all, she has a sincerity that shines through her songs and makes you believe them.

Essential Tracks: “Fall Too Far”, “Like a River”, and “Time”

The room is small enough almost not to need a sound system. As if to prove the point, To Kill A King began in front of the stage with an unannounced unplugged number delivered by frontman Ralph Pelleymounter on acoustic guitar and lead vocal, with the rest of the band offering up unnervingly accurate harmonies. It was a stunning opening that scarcely prepared you next for the full electrics of “Cold Skin” as the five members took up their stage positions and just about fitted on it. The song was given a more expansive treatment than on the record, packing power and punch at every turn. Having swallowed hard after the acoustic opener, it was now time to marvel at the clarity and precision of the ensemble.

Continuing with the bass-driven “Wrecking Crew” from the My Crooked Saint EP, Pelleymounter’s colourfully rich drawl glided across lyrics on the futility of drink addiction and abuse passing down generations, accentuated by slurred inflections. The band really cut loose while maintaining a laudable underlying control. On the more stripped-back builder “Fictional State”, light, shade and subtlety gave way to an unexpected guitar fest as Pelleymounter switched to Gibson and traded fast licks with lead player Ian Dudfield.

Whether it was a genius behind the desk or the band’s set-up and awareness of dynamics – most likely a combination of the two – the sound quality throughout the set was extraordinary, particularly for a venue of this size. The crowd got that too, and there was a joyous, almost revivalist response to every song, a sense that we were collectively witnessing something quite special. Pelleymounter extended his expressive baritone to the highest notes at times, and the collective falsetto harmonies offered up by the entire band during the fast-riffing “Moon Envy” provided another standout moment.

The band trades in strong hooks, and this helped less familiar material feel immediate without triggering a rush of comparisons. Indeed, To Kill A King does not sound exactly like anyone else. “Bloody Shirt” and “Funeral”, with bass player Josh Platman demonstrating yet more dexterous runs, provided further evidence of the strong writing that runs through all the band’s work. Throughout the set, John Willoughby on drums and Ben Jackson (synth and keys) contributed energy and precision.

Pelleymounter used open tunings on this acoustic, and the omission of “We Used To Protest/Gamble”, seemingly because of the lack of a third ready-tuned guitar, was a shame. Hopefully that won’t be a persistent problem, as this is a band on a steep upward curve. The stirring builder “Family” proved a perfect encore, with the impassioned repeated refrain “you are my blood” adding poignancy to a song dealing with a familiar rites of passage theme, that of returning home to find things are not quite the same as before. It will be a surprise if To Kill A King do not leave a similar mark on 2012.

Photography by Fox Irving.

Setlist:
Cold Skin
Wrecking Crew
Fictional State
Moon Envy
Gasp
Wolves
Cannibals With Cutlery
Bloody Shirt
Funeral
Encore:
Family
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The night kicked off with a set from Hannah Georgas, though I unfortunately only have that as hearsay thanks to the infamous London traffic. The singer-guitarist-songwriter then doubled as Kathleen Edwards’ backing singer, stepping out of the back line to duet with Edwards on a cover of Alex Chilton’s “September Gurls” during the encores. The softer harmonies of Georgas blended really well with Edwards’ shriller tones throughout, but there was no doubting who was in charge.

Wearing a peacock feather print top over rock chick tight jeans and boots, Kathleen Edwards took the stage with swagger, her hair an increasingly unruly tousle of blonde corkscrews. She opened with the first two cuts from her new album, Voyageur, each taking on added energy in the live arena. Edwards has a steely personality and a sense of purpose about her but also lays her heart open in a remarkably candid fashion, becoming tearful during an emotive rendition of “House Full Of Empty Rooms” and preceding it with a eulogy about the value of having somewhere to call home. While that came halfway through the set, the affection of the crowd, and no doubt its size, prompted earlier flurries of thank yous from Edwards and even a wish in hindsight not to have been quite so public in sharing her “shit” on the latest record.

Edwards divorced her husband and musical collaborator Colin Cripps last year–a breakup referenced by several of the Voyageur songs. In the admirably named Gord Tough on lead guitar, she has found someone to truly feed off–an eloquent player who shone all evening with his sinewy solos and muscular counterpoints. Jim Bryson on keyboards and guitar along with John Dinsmore on bass and Lyle Molzan on drums completed a tight and nimble lineup, giving Edwards’ songs full rein without compromising the power of her vocals. Mixing almost the entire new album with tracks from her previous three, Edwards ably demonstrated the depth of her songwriting and passion of delivery. She had an appreciative audience in her hands with the more immediate stuff such as the fast-paced rocker “Back to Me” and the poppy “Sidecar” getting a big response, while Tough’s brilliant soloing on the emotive “Goodnight, California” was another standout.

There was a particularly tender interlude as Edwards delivered a solo version of “Hockey Skates” from her 2003 debut, Failer–the artist showing her mortality with a bum guitar note at the end greeted with love and laughter by all. For me, though, nothing surpassed the consummate balladry of “A Soft Place to Land” with its rises and falls dynamically interpreted by the band, which included Edwards herself switching from violin to guitar and back. Even a misbehaving keyboard during “Change the Sheets” failed to spoil the party, even though the Justin Vernon-inspired finesse of the studio version was lost. Kathleen Edwards’ overriding quality is that of connecting with an audience lyrically and musically–a truly expressive performer who acts out her emotions as she sings. It can be quiet, it can be loud, but it’s always for real.

Photography by Lauren Keogh.

Setlist:
Empty Threat
Chameleon/Comedian
Asking for Flowers
Pink Champagne
Goodnight, California
In State
Mint
Hockey Skates
House Full of Empty Rooms
Going to Hell
Sidecar
Back to Me
A Soft Place to Land
12 Bellevue
Change the Sheets
Encore:
6 O’Clock
September Gurls
Mercury
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