T In The Park 2010: Sunday [Chris Duncan, Ray Philp, Ryan Drever, Mark Holland & Darren Carle]

Frank Turner's early bird slot on the Radio 1/NME stage is yet another milestone for the man who just recently warmed up for Green Day at Wembley stadium, especially considering this is his first visit to T. Unfortunately it falls a little flat - perhaps we can blame this on timing too - but you can't knock the guy for trying as he does his best to coax a singalong out of the bleary-eyed crowd. [rd]

Day three on the T Break Stage, and one thing above all else is becoming clear: they really like Arcade Fire in Glasgow. This is no bad thing, and Washington Irving are perhaps one of the best examples of those who have made such musical expansiveness their own. They instigate a full-on hoedown amid “Dear Liza”, and the overall package appears very promising, particularly at a time when Mumford and Sons are capturing the popular imagination. [mh]

Canada's Billy Talent tirelessly attempt to fire up the fairly placid second stage crowd, eventually managing to squeeze a sizable circle pit out of them. By the final charge of 'Red Flag', though the crowd is finally all theirs, giving back all they've got in a haze of devil horns, middle fingers and fists. Taking full credit for the first sunshine we've seen all weekend, the band undoubtedly leave on a high note. [rd]

Of the many unsigned bands on offer this year, Three Blind Wolves are one of those who clearly have something of a following already, and the reasons for this quickly become clear. Their sound is steady, focussed, and Ross Clark’s voice loses none of its potency on the festival stage. Even the way he approaches the microphone, hunched over guitar or keyboard, seems to set he and his Wolves apart from much of the weekend’s mediocrity. [mh]

Alan Moore, Brian Blessed, Cousin It and Jesus Christ: none of these people are members of considerably hirsute Glasgow quartet Kassidy. What the former foursome might lack in, say, sonorous harmonies, nifty songwriting and general musical ability, would at least have been redressed by the imbuement of a bit more je ne sais quoi. Otherwise, Kassidy don’t really put a foot wrong here, and even a couple of out of tune guitars fail to detract from a gig that is basically nice, if not all that enthralling. [rp]

Ramona are a female-fronted quartet who deploy two-chord bubblegum punk with Blondie trimmings to immediate yet unremarkable effect. Furthermore, the band themselves seem rather impassive and whilst the decent crowd size sticks around, it feels unlikely that much will be remembered of them come tomorrow. [dc]

Whatever reason there might have been for carrying out a soundcheck in the middle of a show should be beyond the comprehension of any reasonable mind, yet somehow, a backstage staffer saw fit to listlessly clang on a snare drum for 15-20 minutes through what had been a perfectly respectable set that snaked between tech-house and “minimal electro”, as Ivan Smagghe calls it. Despite profuse remonstrations and apologetic gestures, he and Andrew Weatherall remain demonstrably powerless to ameliorate matters. A farcical episode. [rp]

Much better are A Band Called Quinn, an unlikely assortment of individuals peddling their wares of electro-lite carnival pomp. They kick of nicely with DIY and end strongly enough with the cabaret swagger of Oh Jackie and Wolf Cries Boy. In-between, there is a fair bit of flab, with Scum coming across like a facsimilie of Killing Me Softly. Overall though, fine festival frivolities.[dc]

Tricky has often operated on the margins of what you’d call dance music, and so the suspicion that his appearance at the Slam Tent might jar with the rest of the lineup is confirmed as the lugubrious guitar riffs of Psychosis splash into a sea of marble stares; folk look completely nonplussed at the lack of kickdrums and 808s and such. A genuine shame, because Tricky’s impassioned set deserves a far more appreciative audience. [rp]

There’s nae fucking about with Black Mountain whose half-hour time slot could conceivably be engulfed by one of their sprawling psychedelic rock epics. Playing the Futures tent feels like high irony as the Canadian troupe transport us back to 1973, hair and all. It’s a tremendous set that, whilst eschewing breakthrough album In The Future’s variety, plays right into the hands of classic and immediate rock riffage that seems to visibly impress all who have made the short pilgrimage here. The new tunes are sounding a bit tasty too. [dc]

Dizzee Rascal has undergone a remarkable transformation, now scaling the heights of the UK charts with a much poppier, party vibe compared to his murkier London Grime roots. Flaunting a knack for showmanship, with full live band in tow, Dizzee somehow manages to blend his fairly diverse catalogue into a seamlessly entertaining set. The crowd lap up everything but its no surprise closer, Bonkers, prompts the crowd to act accordingly. [rd]

An elephant sized caveat applies to what may constitute your idea of fun at Crookers’ mid-afternoon slot. If you can accept being dry-humped by the collective 4/4 thrust of a couple thousand febrile revellers, then Bot and Phra’s singularly hedonistic odyssey of house music is just about one of the best experiences you’re likely to have. Everybody – and I mean everybody – loses the run of themselves here; a roving crowdcam screens female revellers engaging in a series of ‘compromising episodes’. We’ll leave the rest to your sordid imaginations. [rp]

Silver Columns could hardly have imagined a more inauspicious setting. A sparsely populated gathering around the BBC Introducing... stage hardly engenders enthusiasm for prospective passers-by to see what all the fuss might be about, and gives the illusory impression that they’re not worth seeing. Which is obviously wrong, but especially so in this instance; synthesizers, distorted vocals and megaphone bursts accompany a rambunctious slot that fuses twitchy electronic textures with a healthy pop sensibility. More of this please, T. [rp]

Getting planted right on the coupon with a bottle of beer/pish (the difference is often negligible) will do nothing to lighten your mood, and so it transpires that Dubfire’s sleek, downtempo house grooves aren’t sufficiently distracting for the idiot quotient at the Slam Tent. Having also likely noted the mass evacuation of the arena after Crookers, you suspect that he wished he hadn’t bothered turning up. He carries on after drying himself off, dropping Ribcage near the end. We barely deserve it. [rp]

Yeasayer played at T in 2008, but after the success of second album Odd Blood there are a few more punters drawn to their mystic pop this time around. Ever morphing, most of the tracks feel fresh and inventive against their album counterparts. The added dollops of percussion to Sunrise or 2080’s reverberating vocal mantra that ricochets around the Futures tent ensure that the Brooklyn quartet keep us on our toes with their old material whilst bowing out with a glorious pop finale of newer cuts O.N.E. and Ambling Alp. [dc]

With the proper “lads” becoming aroused by the prospect of rhythmically punching each other to the sweet sound of Kasabian later in the evening, many warm themselves up by watching The Cribs (most likely due to their history of mildly rock n’ roll behaviour and regional accents). Amongst all this, anorak-wearing Smiths fans are dotted around cutting obscure silhouettes, happy to be in the presence of Johnny Marr but concerned for their wellbeing. The band play like they usually do. [mh]

People who don't visit the Slam Tent or deem the line up on the stage across this weekend as dumbed down compared to other showcases at T may well have the following stereotype in their minds. A superstar DJ with his face plastered across every screen available, pumping his fists in the air, with hangers on dancing behind the decks as girls throw their bras and numbers into his record bag. Usually this isn't true, but it fits the bill forSven Vath perfectly. Congratulations on living up to the stereotype. [cd]

From the outset, it is apparent that The Drums are here to have a good time. It’s the last fixture of their UK tour and singer Jonathan Pierce is strafing and flouncing like a drama school crab. As always, the band aren’t making an awful lot of noise – it’s not their way – but, á la Vampire Weekend, it seems that anthems and riffs are not necessarily required to get a festival crowd interested. They bring colourful tunes and tambourine antics, and closer Let’s Go Surfing is one of the weekend’s whimsy-pop highlights. [mh]

Though few look old enough to have owned a ZX Spectrum, the slew of lion hats adorning heads this year tells us that many have been looking forward to see Unicorn Kid tear apart some vintage gaming hardware. It should send a seasoned festival veteran into a ‘young uns and their music’ style rant but seeing Oliver Sabin pogo through a tight half-hour set that puts the tinny bleeps that have been rattling around your skull for two decades into unashamedly populist crowd pleasers is too good to grumble about. We know it’s wrong, but it feels so bleeping right.[dc]

Heading up a strong Hip-hop contingent this year Jay-Z's set tonight is arguably the most anticipated of the weekend. And indeed, Mr Z does not disappoint delivering all the hits and more, whilst plastered with one hell of a grin. Amongst so many others, 99 Problems is given a particularly funky airing tonight, benefiting from additional live instrumentation, but it's Empire State Of Mind that coaxes one of the weekend's most spectacular singalongs.[rd]

“This is our new single. Buy it”, orders Night Noise Team ringleader Sean Ormsby, before chugging away at the chords that make up You Won. Question is, have NNT made a strong enough case for us to part with the dough? Debatable. The pared-down Brian Molko stylings of Ormsby grate a bit, but NNT show themselves to be a capable outfit, encapsulating most of the good stuff that remains in the otherwise turgid indie landscape. Tonight it’s given due consideration. [rp]

We initially have to rub our eyes when Goldfrapp arrive to Voicething due to the quite horrendous jumpsuits on display. Alison herself looks the part though, a black feather dress billowing against a well-placed fan, all in silhouette. Her voice sounds just as good, showing an impressive range and hitting each note with remarkable precision. In fact, past those outfits there is little to fault, making it easier to point out what was extra good, in this case Number 1 and finale Strict Machine particularly hitting the spot. [dc]

It is an easy thing to do, particularly if you're from Glasgow. Slam host and play at their excellent monthly nights Pressure and Return to Mono, so it's easy to get complacent and forget just how good they are. The Edinburgh Castle of techno, you forget what you have on your doorstep but every once in a while snap out of it. Here, they delight everyone in attendance with a tightly coiled and acid tinged set whilst excitement for reaches a high point for the forthcoming Plastikman performance. [cd]

Is Richie Hawtin – tonight resurrecting Plastikman – the Alfred Hitchcock of dance music? Ignoring the fact that Hawtin still has an unreasonably abundant mop of hair on his bonce, he shows himself to be an arch manipulator of dramatic tension, slowly feeding his audience through the wringer; restraint, rather than a cheap euphoric release, is Hawtin’s medium of climax. Tellingly, not one lager javelin finds its way to the circular light cage that surrounds Hawtin, a quantifiable sign of respect given all that’s preceded today. A sensory masterpiece. [rp]

DJ Yoda @ Headspin, 7 Aug

Expect a tidal wave of briny torrents and a cacophony of boo-hoos at The Bongo Club on the 7th as Headspin residents Allan Dunbar, Steve Austin, Dava and Bongo Dave run through their extensive hip-house and funk catalogue for the last time in the foreseeable future. To mark Headspin’s indefinite hiatus (they’ve not quite done an Optimo) after over 12 years of 4-deck turntablism, percussion clatter from Bongo Dave and head-swelling visuals from Foundlight, Dunbar et al have enlisted arch beat pervert DJ Yoda, who, when not burnishing clubs with indecent assaults of hip-hop, house and Game Boy beats, can be found on the other end of premium rate phonelines whispering lasciviously about bagpipe synths and Biz Markie. Probably. Libelous remarks aside, Headspin promise to “go out with a bang”, and we can’t help but take their word for it. If you need any more convincing, check out the Beastie Boys/Daft Punk mashup on their Myspace. Bliss.

The Skinny

Image: Derek M. Chapman

Ghetto Fabulous

Forgo the 'upmarket' graveyards and follow us where technophobes and high heels fear to tread

First, some bad news; Edinburgh nightlife is still a bit up itself. Aspirational affectations remain part and parcel of many of the capital’s sleazespots: the £4.50 pint; the precious, screeching adjectives you’d otherwise find in a bad Ab Fab repeat (It’s boutique! It’s baroque! It’s luxury!); the idea that a club must also be a hotel/restaurant/aquarium/Faberge Egg emporium.

But, since you’re reading this, and not spitting and cursing because we’re describing your favourite watering hole, like,evar, then like us, you’re evidently not game for wallowing in the olfactory purgatory of strawberry daiquiris and Fake Bake, or dressing like you’re going for a job interview at a Fortune 500, are you? Good, because opportunities to shake off the ennui abound this August, in the time when the city breaks free of its gilded cage and puts its best beer-sodden foot forward.

And, given Edinburgh’s nascent reputation for its stellar dubstep nights, where better to start than with the granddaddy of them all? Volume, the capital’s longest-running dubstep soiree, hosts a free shindig at the small-but-perfectly-formed Sneaky Pete’s on Saturday 7 August. Residents Termite, G-Mac, Paranoise and Brian D’Souza will be on hand to make your feet tap like the biologically improbable bastard child of Gene Kelly and Michael Flatley.

Eschewing any sort of riff on a Singing In The Rain/Riverdance techno mashup (cough–doit–cough), we turn our attentions to the Soma Party hosted by one of Edinburgh’s most venerable bass bunkers, Cabaret Voltaire. On Saturday 20 August, Slam, Funk D’Void and Harvey McKay will dovetail with a set from Telefunken residents Alan Gray and Nick Wilson in Room 2.

Prior to that, Cabaret Voltaire also host Glasgow music/art/party collective LuckyMe; having held down an entire evening at Sonar festival until ridiculous o’clock in the morning, 5am parties won’t come much better than the third annual LuckyMe Festival Party on Friday 13 August. An exhaustive list of men and women who will make you dance and lose your shit follows: Hudson Mohawke, Jackmaster, The Blessings, Eclair Fifi, Dema, Joe Respite, Jay Prada, Dougal from 7VWWVW (remember when you used to type in ‘BOOBS’ on your calculator?) and Jamie Spectrum.

Speaking of boobs an’ that, Confusion Is Sex, the all-singing, all-dancing (with, ahem, strap-ons) crown jewel of the Edinburgh nightscape, offers a double helping of its unique brand of sensual sensory indulgence. Gamma Ray Dali ‘n’ them invite curious revellers and die-hards alike to The Bongo Club on Friday 6 August, featuring industrial quantities of groove from The Glitch DJs, Gary Mac of We Are...Electric and Wasabi Disco impresario Kris Walker. CIS’s follow up party on Friday 20 August moves to Electric Circus, where you’ll find esoteric punters kitted out in manga, visual kei, gothic Lolita and decora. No, neither did we, until an exploratory look on Google revealed that failure to resemble an S&M loving J-Pop singer getting pagared in a wind tunnel will result in you being told where to go. Probably George Street.

Lastly, we’d like to tell you about our own festival rave at Assembly (Princes Street Gardens), Local Takeover, on Wednesday 11 August. Some of our favourite Edinburgh DJs – that’s Hostage, Anarkid, Bargain Harold & i-Tallah Disco – will soundtrack visual delights from The Freaky Brides and a performance costume show from the Edinburgh College of Art. Hope to see you there for a dance and a swalley.

The Skinny

Image: Christina Kernohan

Sonar 2010: 19 June [Chris Duncan & Ray Philp]

As the lights dim on Sonar festival, Fuck Buttons and Jackmaster continue to shine bright

UFFIE

Oh shit, someone just rocked up on the stage with a keytar, this does not bode well. The last time someone employed this instrument on stage was Kap10Kurt, and they hardly set the world alight. After a pointless and self-indulgent introduction where Mr Keytar coos down an effect heavy mic and asks, repeatedly, if we’re “ready to Uff?” the Parisian enfant terrible finally appears on stage. Credit where it’s due, Uffie’s vocals manage to fill the large courtyard confidently, but this doesn’t really matter when your lyrical content amounts to nil. She asks the crowd to join her in a celebration at the fact that this week her debut album finally got released, before adding “about fucking time”, a reference to the fact that this record has arrived around two years after the world’s brief love affair with Ed Banger ended. With shallow lyrics that sometimes even have the audacity to refer to Uffie’s own awareness at the fact that she doesn’t have much skill as an MC (“If I get popular/then that ain’t fair”) it’s easy to see that if it wasn’t for her connections to Ed Banger and good looks then there would be no way she would be at Sonar, or indeed any sizable stage. She sings that we should “hate the player not the game”, but when so many MCs with greater talent that Uffie go unnoticed you’ll forgive me if I hate both for the time being. 1/5 [CD]

JACKMASTER

You can imagine why Jackmaster’s Sonar debut might be a rather deflating experience for certain sections of this evening’s crowd. Jackmaster, yet to hit his mid-twenties, has both considerable skills and chutzpah to spare. Fusing contemporary classics (Windowlicker and Positif are notably popular choices amongst this year’s setlists) with the sort of hen night house that you’d find straight out of a Destiny playlist, Jackmaster’s track selection is both courageous and impeccably sequenced, and it’s all delivered with an insouciant, I-don’t-give-a-fuck swagger. So, why deflating? Most of us watching know that we could never, ever hope to be this good. 5/5 [RP]

FUCK BUTTONS

Fuck Buttons evidently remain in the midst of a gestation period. Andrew Weatherall’s decisive contribution to their exemplary Tarot Sport longplayer may have added the propulsive edge that their live shows were previously lacking, but this evening suggests that they are still mulling the fork in the road before them. Oscillating between the warbling synths and industrial 808s of Surf Solar and the distortion laden post-rock of cuts from Street Horrrsing, what their set lacks in thematic cohesion it more than makes up for in the sheer exuberance of their amp-bursting explorations. They may not yet know where they’re headed, but in this instance, the journey is as much fun as the destination itself. 4/5 [RP]

DIZZEE RASCAL

Pfffffttt, when you're appearing at Sonar, a festival well known for pushing the audience's expectations of AV shows, simply projecting a wild eyed image of your mug on the screens and calling it visuals simply isn't going to cut it. Not that the crowd watching Dizzee Rascal cares, as row upon row of people go wild, bouncing as one organism whenever Dizzee commands. By the time he drops Bonkers the entire front of the hanger is going apeshit in the way only white people at a rap gig can. Read into that what you will. 3/5 [CD]

LUNICE

Filling in for LuckyMe-man-down Mike Slott is the wonderful showboater Lunice. A straight up entertainer in every sense of the word, Lunice manages to hold a crowd with a varied song selection ranging from unreleased exclusives to Beyonce's Diva via Soulja Boy's All Black Everything. Ditching the turntable setup in exchange for a controller and Ableton instead of focusing on mixing the tracks he instead opts to launch a clip , run to the front of the stage and throw down some absurd dance moves. Witness the embodiment of hip-hop's swagger. 4/5 [CD]

THE CHEMICAL BROTHERS

While The Chemical Brothers might not be considered a legacy act just yet, most would begrudgingly admit that their best days, in a creative sense, are behind them. Debuting their latest longplayer, Further (a conspicuously more elegant effort than their recent output), to one of the most rammed crowds of the entire festival, they remain demonstrably capable of wringing every last drop of ecstasy out of a febrile BCN public. However, a more enthusiastic reaction to a clumped together encore of their greatest hits suggests that they're still glancing anxiously over their shoulders at former glories. This prolonged wave of nostalgia, welcome as it is, betrays a rather disquieting subtext: that The Chems themselves tacitly acknowledge that they won't (or indeed, can’t) make anything as exciting or relevant as Surrender again. 3/5 [RP]

DJ HELL

At last tearing themselves away from the bocadillo stands and the fluorescent edifice of the dodgem arena (yes, we had a shot), a sweat-matted throng shuffle towards DJ Hell’s spacious set-up at SonarPub to see his second show of Sonar By Night, and the curtain closer on Sonar 2010. As sunlight begins to splinter the skies above, Hell opens with a dramatic and somewhat poignant Klaus Nomi interpolation that is quickly followed by an extended rework of the Bryan Ferry assisted U Can Dance, the latter of which somehow seems even more hedonistic and hypnotic than the original. Switching effortlessly between his formidabble Gigolo catalogue and a plethora of Detroit techno classics, leaden eyelids and the threat of slumber are successfully held off as we all dance in the daylight. 4/5 [RP]

The Skinny

Sonar 2010: 18 June [Chris Duncan & Ray Philp]

Within the abandoned aircraft hangar Joy Orbison has his set ruined and Aeroplane starts flying solo

Nedry

Say what you want about the BBC´s music coverage, but their showcases at this year´s Sonar have thus far been right on the money. Nedry – a London trio who have given the forlorn trip-hop genre a firm punt in the Biggie Smalls – continue the hot streak here as they attract a swarm of sun-beaten revellers away from the shade of the trees at SonarVillage. Far from being the gentle, lugubrious affair that many seem to expect, Nedry show themselves to be capable of the feral and the ethereal in equal measure. Ayu Okakita’s slender voice drifts effortlessly over pulsing electronics and elegant melodies alike, and for the next hour or so the heat doesn’t feel so oppressive. 4/5 [RP]

King Midas Sound

As SonarHall is quickly enveloped by jets of smoke, piercing sirens and the violent echo of helicopter blades, the sense of menace that King Midas Sound seek to convey seems at odds not only with the generally convivial atmosphere, but also seems to create a conflict within the trio itself: Hitomi’s stark wail, for example, sounds like it would benefit from a more sympathetic foil than Kevin Martin (aka The Bug) will otherwise allow. Roger Robinson looks more at home in Martin´s sonic sludge, but the lack of daylight amongst the melody-free void of King Midas Sound’s set eventually begins to sap the energy from SonarHall, which by this stage looks and sounds like a scene straight out of Apocalypse Now. And much like the aforementioned film, King Midas Sound offer a worthy account of themselves here, even if they are somewhat exhaustive and unrelenting in their bleakness. 2/5 [RP]

Nosaj Thing Visual Show

Closing the second day is the highly anticipated audio-visual show from young American upstart Nosaj Thing. A huge white projection screen fills the wall of the SonarHall and acts as a backdrop to Nosaj Thing’s minimal set-up of a laptop and couple of midi controllers, whilst visual artist Fair Enough sits offstage controlling the creations of light being painted across the room. Even at close range the sonic sounds of Nosaj Thing are astonishing, with 1685/Bach being a particular highlight. The accompanying visuals set the tone well but move independently of the music, creating something of a clash alongside the soundtrack. 4/5 [CD]

Aeroplane

If a week is a long time in politics, it only seems fair to apply the same rule to the world of music. Only one week ago Belgian duo Aeroplane appeared in front of a delighted and sizable crowd at Rockness, in spite of being up against a rare appearance by The Strokes. But now, less than a week later, one half of the duo has broken off citing creative differences. The solo set is well planned, featuring Aeroplane's remix of Breakbot and their house hit Caramellas. For tonight, in front of this small early crowd, Aeroplane still have what it takes. Whether it will last after their debut LP surfaces? Only time will tell. 3/5 [CD]

Joy Orbison

For the sake of conveying how a hypeman can ruin your enjoyment of, well, everything - but especially Joy Orbison’s Sonar By Night appearance - I’ve decided to employ one to accompany [uh huh, uh huh, yeah] this review. So anyway, outwith the almighty buzzkill [buzzzz!] of Orbison’s obstreperous sidekick [hey, that’s me!], Pete O’Grady’s stellar offerings remain impressive, in isolation at least [uh huh, yeah, what, bass in the place!]. Hyph Mngo, inevitably, is the evening’s euphoric denouement [uh huh, here’s me talking some more pish!], but by the end it’s all rather incidental [yet more vapid filler, uh huh!], because by this time all you want the guy to do is shut the fuck up. 2/5 [RP]

Flying Lotus

Saddled though he is with the misfortune of clashing with both the soon-to-be-defunct LCD Soundsystem and Minus bulwarks Magda and Plastikman, Flying Lotus’ exuberant melange of anvil bothering basslines and Technicolour samples are witnessed by a remarkably respectable turnout, and those that forego the more traditional Sonar pit-stops are handsomely rewarded with one of this year’s festival highlights. Although Cosmogramma forms the substantive pivot for Flylo’s abstract hip-hop odyssey, double-time percussion and ‘roid rage bpms both inject an urgency to songs from the relatively smooth, ‘headphone’ pace of his latest LP, while the freight cargo bass drops do the rest. In a word, sublime. 5/5 [RP]

Plastikman

Regardless of your opinion on minimal techno (wait, the notes you don't hear?) and its place in modern electronic music, there is no denying the sheer scale and majesty of the Plastikman live show. Encased within a semi-circle cage of LED lights Richie Hawtin is barely visible, a mere silhouette surrounded by laptops and drum machines to create a full and deep sound the fills the huge outdoor space. The whole performance is captivating, building and morphing into what could be misinterpreted as something similar to dubstep. This isn't the case, instead there are so many layers of sounds working together at the climax of the set it's almost impossible to focus on one aspect of the set. The result, everyone walks away discussing different aspects of the sound but joined in the agreement that the visual side of the show is retina-scorchingly wonderful. Finally, Hawtin emerges in front of the cage with a 909 drum machine for a well deserved encore of Spastik accompanyed by a frantic light show. Simply stunning. 5/5 [CD]

Hudson Mohawke

As predicted, the LuckyMe collective are out in force. Their takeover of the SonarLab stage doesn't even take place for another 24 hours yet their members are milling around showing support for their golden boy Hudson Mohawke. Joined on stage by Oliver Daysoul for full-bodied vocal support to the dubstep spine that runs throughout HudMo's set, the only gripe being the stop/start flow of the evening when some people on the crowd were clearly expecting a 45 minute display of his turntablist skills and unique edits. 3/5 [CD]

The Skinny

Sonar 2010: Like Day & Night

Barcelona’s 17th electronic music and multimedia shindig bore all the hallmarks of a typical Sonar experience. Of course, a ‘typical Sonar experience’ is an oxymoron of sorts, because there’s no such thing in an episodic sense (my colleague Chris Duncan, as you’ll see from our review and his roundup of the opening day, enjoyed a distinctly M_nus tinted sojourn this year), but the festival’s capacity to provoke a vast range of opinions and emotions, be they good or bad (delight, disgust and bemusement are easy bedfellows at Sonar), remains its most enduring trait.

And when it was good, it was very, very good. Sonar By Day, traditionally the more experimental face of the festival, has over time become less of a cupboard for curios and more of a treasure trove for all things avante garde; Nedry, as it happens, provided a bit of both at their appearance on the green expanses of the SonarVillage stage, where glitch laden bird calls were one of the less extraordinary noises they employed on a very solid showing. Less orthodox still was Lunice’s dynamic slot at SonarDome. Newly acquired by the ever expanding LuckyMe collective (more on them later), Lunice’s fluid integration of x-rated Bmore beats and European house signatures had us all nodding like broken Churchill dugs, and that’s before I even mention the dancing, or that he was dressed like a b-boy George Jetson.

Elsewhere, two shows that put forth decent cases for being amongst the best of the entire festival: Nosaj Thing accompanied his maelstrom of sonorous blips and squelches with an elegant geometric light show, a combination that made for a mesmeric experience, while mercurial Numbers affiliate Jackmaster brought the house down on Saturday with – for want of a better word – one of the ballsiest setlists (Show Me Love – seriously!) in recent memory.

Venerable acts like Air, Roxy Music, Hot Chip and LCD Soundsystem adorned swathes of Sonar’s promotional material, but LuckyMe proved to be a significant and equally influential presence at Sonar By Night, consolidating what has already been a terrific 12 months or so for the Glasgow arts collective. Hudson Mohawke’s slot on Friday served as another welcome reminder of why LuckyMe and HudMo himself are, in a stylistic sense, so gloriously difficult to pin down. Long may that continue.

As you might have expected, dubstep also left its mark on Sonar 2010, with Roska, Caspa and Joy Orbison representing a prominent dubstep contingent. However, one of this year’s unequivocal highlights came from an artist who, while frequently associated with the genre, has made a conscious effort to eschew dubstep tropes altogether on his latest longplayer, Cosmogramma. Flying Lotus was both beautiful and brutal; jazz melodies and thunderous bass drops have never sounded so good together.

Elsewhere, DJ Hell was given the double privilege of opening with a specially tailored set for Roxy Music, and of providing the valedictory send-off to this year’s electronic music jamboree. Playing well beyond the 7am mark, Hell’s mellifluous mash of libidinous techno and glam pop was well worth staying up past our bedtimes for.

Given that Sonar also ran a concurrent festival programme in Galicia, it would be disingenuous to attempt a worthy summation of Sonar 2010 in its sprawling entirety, so perhaps it’s best to offer a more personal perspective. Even though we were several hundred miles away from the dreech, fish suppers and any trace of a glottal stop, Sonar 2010 didn't turn out to be as alien an encounter as we may have expected. With a lineup that boasted a significant UK presence, and from Glasgow in particular, it was reassuring to find that Scotland’s spot in the electronic music landscape continues to grow exponentially alongside our European counterparts. Oh, and it even rained a bit. For three days, Barcelona felt like a home away from home.

The Skinny

Sonar 2010: Off Sonar Parties

Sonar by day and night is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to musical offerings in Barcelona this weekend. Here´s three other parties that come highly recommended

Hyperdub @ Mondo, Thu 17 June

Given that 2010 should shape up to be Hyperdub’s annus mirabilis – largely thanks to last year’s release of their fifth anniversary compilation Five: Five Years of Hyperdub – it seems kinda odd that King Midas Sound are the London label’s sole standard-bearers at this year’s Sonar festival. And then you realise that the balmy dusk of an Off-Sonar party seems a far more natural setting for a label that prides itself on eschewing the limelight. One of this year’s most anticipated Off-Sonar parties has Ikonika front and centre – one of a select few on the Hyperdub roster to be granted a full-length LP (Contact, Want, Love, Have) – alongside label boss Kode9. The Mondo bass bins can also look forward to a severe workout from Cooly G and Darkstar, serving up funky house and sci-fi dubstep respectively. Room 2 also hosts ‘UK vs, Spain’, where Bristol boy Guido engages in a (bloodless) battle with experimental Galician beatsmith Mwëslee.

Cocoon presents Ricardo Villalobos @ Ghoa Beach Club, Fri 18 June

Every once in a while, a minority of dissenting voices (Krafty Kuts’ Fabric 34 mix, anyone?) seek to deride the widely perceived uniformity of the minimal techno landscape. As sweeping statements go, it’s fairly Dick Van Dyke in scope (wildly inaccurate cockney vowels and all), but Ricardo Villalobos has always remained the exception to a largely apocryphal rule: simultaneously at the heartbeat of minimal and also utterly transcending it, Villalobos remains the omnipresent and definitive Last Word on minimal techno. Preceding soundbites are offered by Istanbul native Onur Özer, whose reputation was greatly enhanced by his excellent inaugural mix for the Watergate series, which has since featured the likes of Ellen Allien and Sebo K. A host of like-minded DJs presented by Barcelona sweatbox Raum, now in its fourth year, make up the remainder of Ghoa’s minimal extravaganza; of note, Chico Late’s earthy minimal percolations evoke welcome echoes of a proto-Alcachofa.

Sub Club @ BeCool, Thu 17 June

Sub Club’s Off-Sonar showcase is something of a haven for tech-house dyads: Poker Flat figurehead Steve Bug’s elegant and accessible take on minimal techno and house music segues rather neatly with fellow headliner Milton Jackson’s off-kilter and slightly more aggressive approach; something he makes plain in a quasi-synaesthesic way via a series of album sleeves from his Crash EPs. Veteran Subculture curators Harri & Domenic, leaning more on the house end of things, also dovetail nicely with their Sensu counterparts – made up of Junior Ingram, Barry Price and Esa – who offer a similar style of eclectic deep house offerings. Sensu are also notable for the range of guests they have welcomed into Jamaica Street’s bass dungeon; Magda, Loco Dice and Jay Haze, for example, are among those who, by proxy, have shown Sensu’s openness towards the more minimal end of the house spectrum. So, what was the Catalan for ‘yaldy’ again?

The Skinny

Kelburn Garden Party, 3 & 4 July

Two days of superb talent in sublime settings. Oh, and IT HAS A PAINTED CASTLE

One-hundred-and-fifty words offers precious little opportunity to wax lyrical on all of the meritorious facets of the Kelburn Garden Party, but I only need five anyway: it’s got a painted castle. A. Painted. Castle. A sizeable posse of local and international bands and DJs have jumped at the chance to gawp at the Technicolor edifice on the idyllic Kelburn grounds; alongside Scottish indie favourites Broken Records and Meursault, rave kids and techno grown-ups alike can look forward to globetrotting Ninja Tune mainstay DJ Vadim’s presentation of ‘The Electric’, dubstep from Glasgow-based DJs Taz Buckfaster and NoFACE, the chameleonic house music pillar that is Tom Middleton and a ton of other beatsmiths worth the attentions of your spirit-glazed eyes and ears. Incidentally, Kelburn’s aural delights are also augmented by various workshops, one of which includes Brazilian martial art Capoeira – presumably so as to demonstrate the consequences of peeing on the mural. Consider yourself warned, a certain Mr. Vile.

The Skinny

Sonar 2010: The Road to Sonar [Chris Duncan & Ray Philp]

The line up at this year's Sonar festival is the usual mixture of well-known acts and emerging talent that bridge the gap between electronic music and art. Here are The Skinny's recommendations for ten performances to see this year

King Midas Sound (18 Jun, SonarHall, 7pm)

London Zoo, The Bug’s oppressive dancehall opus of 2008, was the dank basement from which the trio of King Midas Sound emerged. Actually, emerge isn’t the right word; several shades darker and more considered than Kevin Martin’s seminal album, King Midas Sound’s full-length debut, Waiting For You, seemed to have been crafted from within the stony confines of a Brixton dungeon. And yet, notwithstanding the Catalan sunshine that will suffuse their Sonar By Day slot,Waiting For You is an intensely edifying record with elements of real warmth within, most of which is provided by Roger Robinson’s rich, tobacco flecked growl. Expect the dungeon keepers to dazzle at the MACBA. [RP]

Joy Orbison (18 Jun, SonarLab, 12.45am)

Sunny dispositions know better than to seek gratification from a typical dubstep 12", which, to a man, seems a milieu of elegiac rhythms and haunted whispers, albeit with soul puncturing kickdrums attached. Coarse though the perception is, it may go some way to explaining why the music press went totally apeshit for Hyph Mngo, Joy Orbison’s debut 12"; possibly one of the most life-affirming, cravenly happy 5-and-change minutes ever committed in the name of dubstep. Pete O’Grady has since released two additional, and equally substantive, records of note, both of which are woven with slivers of funky, garage and house; a unique blend that is fast becoming his trademark. [RP]

Robot Koch (17 Jun, SonarDome, 9pm)

Hitherto best known as one third of BPitch triumvirate Jahcoozi, Berlin producer Robot Koch released his first full-length longplayer, Death Star Droid, last November – a dense and murky black hole of an album that draws in a maelstrom of influences from, frankly, God knows where. By turns tumultuous and tender, Robot Koch’s catalogue finds its inspiration in a headrush of hip-hop, grime, techno and dubstep, although Koch himself knows the obsolescence of such tags, having described his own label’s output as being "like Motown with lazers". Once we see a Four Tops two-step remix, we’ll believe it. [RP]

Plastikman (18 Jun, SonarPub, 2am)

As revered discographies go, Richie Hawtin’s catalogue is a rather amorphous pantheon – beyond his venerable DE9 records and the plethora of M_nus and Plus 8 material, much of Hawtin’s sprawling collection remains largely obscured, ironically, by its own plurality. While his Plastikman recordings are similarly prolific, they are easily his most identifiable and enjoyable works. Hawtin’s boilerplate minimal rhythms are transformed by the corrosive drips of acid house infused into tracks like Sheet One and Panikattack, both of which offer ample evidence of Hawtin’s mastery of momentum and nuance. We could go on, but there’s no point preaching to the converted, is there? [RP]

Flying Lotus (18 Jun, SonarLab, 1.30am)

Being nephew to jazz legends John and Alice Coltrane brings with it a strenuous weight of expectation, but Flying Lotus’ music career isn’t so much in the blood as it is written in the stars. Cosmogramma, FlyLo’s third longplayer, takes a quantum leap forward in quality as it clusters together FlyLo’s melodious loops and cinder block basslines with fragmented samples sourced from every cobweb-ridden crook of his redoubtable record collection. A record with star quality written all over it, literally – with song titles like Do The Astral Plane and Zodiac Shit, FlyLo is unequivocal about the scope of his ambition. [RP]

LCD Soundsystem (18 Jun, SonarClub, 1.30am)

The arrival of This Is Happening was bittersweet, hurrah for fresh material, woe due to the promise that this will be the band's last record. So before James Murphy et al hang up their cowbells for good, it's probably best to seize one of the last remaining chances to see their live show before the entire thing collapses in on itself sometime in the not too distant future. Regardless of what strange new sounds you encounter this weekend, there is no denying that the cries of Drunk Girls is already threatening to be the song to soundtrack the nocturnal element of Sonar this year. [CD]

Zomby (19 Jun, SonarLab, 5am)

It's hard to believe that in such a short timescale dupstep has managed to make its mark firmly on the world stage, emerging from the outskirts of specialist music to become a sound distinctly associated with the late noughties. Zomby's 2008 debut record Where Were You In '92? propelled him into the spotlight that was being cast upon his genre as he payed homage to his early 90s influences. Sonar has a history of reflecting trends within electronic music well and Zomby's headline set is evidence, if it was at all needed, that dubstep has finally reached a fuller audience. [CD]

John Talabot (18 Jun, SonarClub, 2.30am)

Last year was something of a hectic time for John Talabot as he moved from near anonymity into the hearts of the likes of Ewan Pearson and the influential Pitchfork publication. This can be attributed to his sound which combines influences from Moodymann, J Dilla, Chicago house, disco music and northern soul. Post Sonar he promises to release his long awaited debut record to an eager public. [CD]

Nosaj Thing Visual Show (18 Jun, SonarHall, 8.30pm)

Whilst the courtyard of MACBA at Sonar By Day is dominated by live musical performances, the dark basement of the building houses attractions that often draw bigger crowds than the sizeable talent outside. It is here that groundbreaking musical installations are debuted, such as the Reactable and artists that truly blur the line between music and visual art take to the stage. Nosaj Thing Visual Show is one such performance, combining synchronised bright visuals with his echoing electronica sound. This time last year he released hisDrift album to huge success on the specialist music circuit so expect this show to be one of the highlights of the daytime line-up. [CD]

Hudson Mohawke

There has always been a strong UK presence at Sonar for two reasons. One, the fact that the finest talent from the various musical scenes on these fair isles is selected year upon year, and two, British early adopters of new artists often make the trip to the festival to discover something new alongside various international acts they already know and love. Glaswegian ex-pat Hudson Mohawke was always a safe bet to appear this year after the whirlwind of hype that has surrounded his unique and imaginative sound for some time now was backed up by the release of Butter last year on Warp Records. Now, in the year that his hometown collective LuckyMe have received their own showcase line-up on the SonarLab stage on 19 June, HudMo is scheduled for the penultimate performance on the same stage the previous evening. Between the Mary Anne Hobbs showcase slot and the LuckyMe family presention you can expect to see young HudMo for a fair amount of the weekend. No complaints here. [CD]

The Skinny

Stag and Dagger Glasgow @ Various Venues, 22 May [Chris Buckle, Ray Philp & Ryan Drever]

While not as dependent on the weather as its field-based brethren, wandering between city-festival venues is infinitely more pleasurable on a balmy, pre-summer’s evening like tonight. It helps that Stag and Dagger strategically occupies venues within five minutes of each other (with a slightly further afield Captains Rest outlier), while the scheduling - vastly improved on last year - diminishes the fear of fruitless queuing for oversubscribed headliners.

Of course, none of this matters if the acts on offer aren’t much cop. Luckily, the lineup, if not quite exemplary, is pretty exhaustive. Squeezing in so many bands leaves some a little short-changed in terms of set-length, but the general brevity means motivated punters can pack a lot in to a single evening. Like the following, for example…

Islet adopt some fairly provocative tactics to deflect from a longish delay to their set: “We played a gig in Edinburgh last night”, a pronouncement met with the inevitable chorus of pantomime boos, is one in a series of spontaneous gestures (brothers Matt and JT also take to wading through a tightly packed crowd at various points) that typifies the Cardiff quartet’s rather casual, laissez faire songwriting style. As loosely structured (and somewhat unhinged) as they are, Islet's 30 minute spell at The Captain’s Rest is a thrillingly feral exercise in unreconstructed racket. [RP]

Many a thankless task has been undertaken in the name of tracing a band's stylistic references, but Rhys Edwards' jet black bowl cut is the big giveaway here: as the Tripwiresfrontman informs the crowd that the Reading quartet are missing exams for the sake of their afternoon slot at the Stag & Dagger, one can't help but feel they've been studying their 90s shoegaze predecessors a little too hard. A series of reverb-caked ditties, though diverting enough, feel too familiar to provoke anything beyond a shrug. [RP]

Formerly known as Ross Clark And The Scarfs Go Missing,Three Blind Wolves are in fact four guys from Glasgow, led here tonight by the aforementioned - and wonderfully mustachioed - Ross Clark. Drawing on a host of influences from Springsteen to Modest Mouse, the wolves do their best to power through the heat delivering an energetic take on Americana and country-tinged rock. [RD]

Next up in the stereo basement are London-based, Yuck, who, to put it very basically, sound like A LOT of big "alt rock" bands from the 80s/90s - Dinosaur Jr., Pavement, Pixies, etc. They possess a suitably weird stage presence - all look outstandingly geeky, effortlessly. However, it appears they've got a few chops too, lumbering out a selection of catchy, noisy pop songs that often go from nothing to cascading Mascis-style guitar battery - shame it's all been done before. [RD]

A conspicuously modest number are present to greet Gold Panda, a producer whose sunny loops and inscrutable crate-digging have turned the requisite quota of heads amongst the chattering classes of the blogosphere. Although many of his songs withstand the passive scrutiny of the Art School crowd – new single You and his signature tune, Quitter’s Raga, are his standout efforts – the Londoner falls frustratingly short as a DJ. His build-ups linger for way too long and fizzle out thereafter into formless, miasmic feedback that undermines an otherwise impressive set of tunes. [RP]

Being the first to play ABC’s main stage tonight, you’d assume there was ample opportunity to calibrate sound levels for The Antlers’ arrival. Apparently not – while Peter Silberman’s vocals eventually manage to battle through the sludge, a persistent bass rumble judders throughout. Its ugly reverberations loom from the stage like (appropriately enough) angry Lost credits, and though their set is too damaged by the aural slurry to salvage full satisfaction, the undiminished appeal of their shoegaze melodies scrapes them a pass. [CB]

After recently visiting a friend with young children, the antics of Jaguar Love’s Johnny Whitney feel familiar. Initially, he’s charged to a “I wanna watch Spider-Man NOW!” excitement level, and his unbridled energy seems incongruous in a hot, lazy ABC2. Later, he drops a notch to a less volatile “fish fingers for tea! HOORAY” kind of level, while the crowd start to shuffle their own excitement levels forward to meet him halfway. Their sound is dumb and often annoying (the majority plucked from their shark-jumping second album), but they skate through on enthusiasm and energy. Now someone sit him in front of In the Night Garden quick before he faints. [CB]

Despite the advancing hours and the continuous trickle of beer taps, Wild Beasts luck out by drawing a fairly attentive crowd at the ABC. Gleaning much of their setlist from sophomore album Two Dancers, tracks like Fun Powder Plot and This Is Our Lot are redolent with a faintly dream-like quality that owes much to Hayden Thorpe’s sweeping vocals and a slightly gentler tempo than the band employ on record. The Kendal quartet wrap up an excellent 45 minutes with Hooting & Howling, a bloody and beautiful ode to errant youth that feels like an entirely appropriate dedication to the city they find themselves in. [RP]

Over in ABC2, former Aerogramme men Craig B and Iain Cook take to the stage with their impressive new group, The Unwinding Hours. It's a shame some people feel the urge to scream over the whole set, but most of the couple hundred folk here seem genuinely appreciative. The band, however, invest a lot of personal energy and honesty into the performance, getting as lost in the sound as the more attentive among us tonight. [RD]

“Hiya, we’re called Divorce. Nice to meet you.” That’s about the sum total of pleasantries offered to onlookers at Nice ‘N’ Sleazy’s tonight, where Ps and Qs are otherwise shown the door. A middling turnout is perhaps explained by Jetpacks’ headline slot down the road at the ABC, but it scarcely affects the sheer energy that the quintet generate via wave after wave of what Donald Rumsfeld may have been moved to christen ‘shock and awe’ had he not been otherwise engaged in a bit of warmongering. [RP]

While hardly veterans, We Were Promised Jetpacks are looking increasingly comfortable on large stages. Comfortable enough, in fact, to toss out album highlights early without risking losing a crowd habitually consulting time tables to find their next destination. With such maturation, a cracking second album could see them cement themselves as something exceptional (as opposed to merely Bloody Good). The only time they look mildly uncomfortable is when the inter-song chat turns to the evening’s football – to borrow a metaphor from the beautiful game, they won’t require a home advantage to thrill venues this size for long. [CB]

Titus Andronicus are pretty much a full on party band, but with lyrics, or rather "chants" to the effect of "You Will Always Be A Loser" and "Your Life Is Over" it's more like a celebration of how shit everything is. Regardless of these sentiments, every member of the band jumps around the Art School stage, screaming themselves hoarse and evoking everyone from The Dropkick Murphys to The Hold Steady in the process. [RD]

Dressed all in red, mismatching uniforms and creepy, see-through masks, watching Kong take equal chunks out of Beefheart and Albini's collective handbook on musical weirdness is both unsettling and invigorating. This trio from Manchester possess the technical skills to transcend any gimmickry and, with a barrage of complex structures, scuzzy riffs and almost death metal drum work, well and truly give Sleazys a pounding. [RD]

Despite appearing odd on paper – former Poison the Well guitarist plays metal-inflected blast-beat dance-rock while a tattooed Cleopatra coos pretty melodies – the sound of Sleigh Bells in the midst of a heat-wave proves less peculiar than expected. It’s unrelentingly noisy but with a strong pop sensibility embedded throughout, and the forceful beats are lapped up by the art school’s patrons. While perhaps guilty of spreading their (admittedly good) ideas thin, they’re lean, fierce and hard to resist. [CB]

Laptop electronics rarely equate to spectacle. Dam Mantle apparently used toys and broken radios to craft his samples, but once digested through a Macbook’s digital intestines, it boils down to CPUs and LEDs. Add the fact that his intricate, understated take on the genre isn’t conducive to aural pyrotechnics and the slot seems set to underwhelm. Except for the rather significant fact that Dam Mantle is ace. Ostensibly electro easy-listening (they apologise when a loud glitch accidentally escapes the speakers) yet excitingly complex, he doesn’t shout as loud as others on the bill, but he has a lot more to say. [CB]

As we come to the end of tonight's live contingent, Brighton's Esben And The Witch take to The Art School's Vic Bar with an impressive array of gadgets. It's too bad then, that for whatever reason - though it's painfully clear from the start the band are struggling with the sound on stage - it all sounds dreadful. Though their attempt at brooding, creepy electro goes completely awry - and over the heads of this packed-out, DJ-hungry crowd - there are occasional flickers of hope here and there, so we'll give them the benefit of the doubt. [RD]

Joker’s fraternal onstage presence alongside Taz Buckfaster serves as a convenient signpost to the oncoming barrage of Nintendo house, evocative of so many wasted (by ‘wasted’, I mean totally awesome) hours pagaring pixels on Streets of Rage and such. Fashionable dubstep substrates - midi wobbles, sugary synth melodies, 8-bit bleeps and so on - are all in abundance, and though there’s a wee suspicion that such immediately satisfying stuff might lose its lustre on repeated listen, there’s no faulting the inclusion of a visceral Smack My Bitch Up remix or Buckfaster's own creation, Fine Day. [RP]

Mercurial Bristol producer Joker takes the baton for the final leg of this year’s Stag & Dagger, but only a hardcore menagerie of booze hounds and dubstep freaks (you know who you are, radge mephedrone b-boy guy) manage to cross the finish line alongside him. A flurry of exhilarating juxtapositions help the surviving revellers give the floorboards a severe pounding, though his bass-heavy Hyperdub oeuvre really does deserve a better stage - this is basically like watching Barcelona play keepy-uppie at Dingwall. Joker still seems happy enough to show off his broad repertoire of tricks, though: "Not that many people here, but we're having our own party, you get me?" [RP]

The Skinny