Review: The Black Keys at Amsterdam's Paradiso

The hottest day of the year so far, a Dutch win against Slovakia in the World Cup and five hours of celebratory drinking bred a thirsty, sweaty fever for The Black Keys' heavy blues, that thickfreakness if you will, the Akron Ohio duo are known for.

And sure enough, Dan and Patrick appease the masses opening with just that, 'Thickfreakness'. The brick-house riffing and hard drumming of the early single stirs the sold out old church and the crowd heaves. Hot.

Patrick drives down on the simple kit, his face twitching and coursing through a range of expressions; slightly rock, slightly mental. Dan's rolling guitar picking, while technical, carries more flow and when he jams out, bent over the guitar he seems to have this headbang-on-slo-mo style where his hair defies gravity and his back curls hard.

It's sexy voodoo blues, writhing with the burdened spirit of Robert Johnson, tales of wrong doings and love gone foul. From Attack Release, 'Strange Times' creeps with a lurk, sprawling the Keys' music beyond their original sound to something more multidimensional, aided initially on record by producer Danger Mouse.

Rolling down the line, as if the sound they punch out isn't enough, the two are accompanied on stage by a bass player and keyboardist. The bass rumbles past Auerbach's guitar - which wouldn't normally need support - and throughout the overflowing hall. Likewise the organ grinds out a psychedelic path of its own, adding to that wall of voodoo. If it wasn't before, it's scorching now.

New tunes play equal favourites to old, with a succession from Brothers. Opener, 'Everlasting Night' chugs along with Auerbach's falsetto before the personal redemption and kiss off of 'Next Girl' and the glam stomp of the Dr Who-esque 'Howling For You' as we all sing 'dada-da-da-da, dada-da-da-da'.

With more axes then an angry dwarf convention, Dan chops and changes with every song, all immaculate with new tones and a whole lotta richness, continuing through the soul of Brothers' 'I'm Not The One' and Magic Potion's 'Your Touch' and finishing the set with raw, creeping roll of 'I Got Mine' from Attack Release.

An uproarious crowd laid it on thick for an encore, from the stage front to the third tier rungs. 'So She Won't Break' burns to a slow heat. The Black Keys are an amazing live band who harness unbridled rock, while keeping it wild - no more evident than on 'Set You Free', their closer for the night, where wrangling guitar licks and whipping drum rolls are cut through by Dan's soulful voice and heavy groove.

We spill out of the old church and onto the street to an unfamiliar yet comforting warm night in Holland that feels more like a steamy evening in the deep south after midnight mass. Thank heavens for the Black Keys.

Midlake at Amsterdam's Paradiso

Last night Texan classic rock revivalists Midlake (interview below) rolled into town. With the band running late, a few of us lucky early ones snuck in and caught their sound-check just before the doors actually opened. It was interesting to watch with the lights on - kinda like sex, there's definitely something missing - and I'm pretty sure they hadn't applied their onstage-beards yet.

A sold out show at the Paradiso promised an enthusiastic crowd while an album just released, The Courage of Others suggested there'd be a mix of new and old songs, for better or for worse.

Midlake came to prominence with 2006's The Trials of Van Occupanther (was he Dutch?) an instant indie classic for both you and yer old man, conjuring the spirits of Crosby Stills & Nash, Neil Young's Harvest-era, Fleetwood Mac and a touch, dare I say, of the Eagles - 'forrest rock' as my girlfriend, Liz calls it.

Last night, the shows' standouts came from said first album, the likes of 'Young Bride', 'Head Home' and the gem 'Roscoe' were all crowd favourites with a rocking end to 'Head Home' courtesy of drummer McKenzie Smith. Likewise, their encore 'Branches' was from Van Occupanther, and a mellow closure to the evening.
At the end of the show the band were openly blown away when the house lights went on to reveal three tiers of fans in rapturous applause.

Maybe that's because the band knew what I knew; where the old songs rocked, the new songs felt awash in sameness. Since Van Occupanther we've seen a swag of fellow vintage rockers lathered with smooth folk vocals and harmonies, check shirts and beards. None derivative, all bring something new to the table (or take away) - the likes of Fleet Foxes, Bon Ivor and Local Natives.
Understandably, in an attempt to distance themselves from the sound, or more appropriately, three more years of touring the same style of songs, Midlake have moved from forrest rock to druid-folk, especially if we're going off their album covers; American woodland the former, robes and celtic symbolism the latter.

The move to British folk territory on The Courage of Others seems to have payed off as well as Michael Jordan's to baseball. Instead of my Dad's Neil Young records I hear my mum's Steeleye Span records. Fair play, they give it ago and have mastered the sound but at what point might one think 'maybe four guitars are too many?' There's also more flute than you can chuck an Enya at. Plus, on the night, Tim's voice was too low in the mix, his mellow tones too easily washed away.

With the best seats in the house (for those in the know, front and centre on the balcony, that almost box-seat part) we were hoping to be blown away, and for the songs from the first album we were by their weaving tapestry and texture. Songs from the second instead blanketed us in druid drone with not enough melodies or rich harmonies. Shame really.

Brown Bird at Amsterdam's Paradiso

Dear Brown Bird

Sometimes when you go to a gig and you know nothing of the support act and the support act sucks it's no great loss other than wondering why the main act selected them. But other times, those glorious and precious times, you catch the support act and it feels like you've struck gold, not always as polished as the main act but all the more satisfying for digging that bit deeper - or at least arrived when the doors opened.

I was taken away by your music, simple and earnest. David's voice, so clear through that beard, what should have muffled actually filtered, Morgan's aching strings and Joan Baez vocal style plus Mike's classic dobro filled the magestic Paradiso's hall with a rustic stomp that bands with more plugs, pedals and pomp have failed to do.

After the show I'd hoped to congratulate you on a fine set. If only I had stopped at the merch desk mid-Low Anthem as I smuggled myself out for a quick piss. Alas, at the end of a spectacular set by your fellow Rhode Islanders it was their turn to meet and greet.

Nevertheless I bought The Devil Dancing on CD - I owed you that much - and added my name to your mailing list (about three quarts the way down on the first page). I popped the disc in my girlfriend's bag and went home to bed.

This morning I woke irrationally early so I hopped up and tackled a mountain of dishes and what better way to help me get through the slog than with some gentle morning music.

I sliced open the plastic seal of my new CD and opened the cardboard sleeve, fired up the computer and tried to pop out the disc from its casing. Like a reluctant virgin the disc wouldn't pop from its centre. It just bent, bowed with a creaking sound, before finally, snap! To quote Dylan, the Brown Bird disc 'breaks, just like a little girl.'

Was it my eagerness and heavy man-handling that broken the CD rather than easing it gently and wooing it from it's casing? Most probably.

Or was it in this day and age, as CD sales drop in the face of downloads, manufacturers cut corners and construction gets flimsy… I don't blame you Brown Bird, I blame the system.

Feeling jilted, I jumped straight online to find your torrent. Alas as a small act, your discovery by a prospecting punter is real gold* and the price of gold is high for its rare and exclusive qualities, not for its ubiquitous torrent. I did dig up a file called 'Brown Bird at the Nave' but the progress bar didn't move beyond infinity. And that's fools gold.

Sadly I've lost my nugget of Brown Bird but I can say I discovered you before the inevitable gold rush. In the interim I'm not so much panning for gold, but washing the pans... in silence.

Kind regards,

Colin.

*I'm dropping the 'virgin' thing and reclaiming the gold analogy 'cos when you start talking about the price of virgins on the internet the FBI start knockin' – or so I've heard.

Still Flyin' at Amsterdam's Paradiso

Tonight at the Paradiso there's two great shows. At 7.30 get along and see the brilliant twang of Low Anthem. These Rhode Island natives have just about made Amsterdam their second home with numerous shows and recording here. At 10 see Still Flyin' - a delightfully fun outfit from San Francisco I first saw at 2008's Sydney Laneway Festival (a festival we sadly missed this past Sunday when Liz and I had to fly back to Amsterdam - from all accounts, a brilliant day with great bands) where body boards helped the crowd surfers. Tonight's performance is now half price at the Last Minute Ticket Shop, so get buying.

From iamsterdam.com

Still Flyin', a San Francisco collective bring nothing but fun and good times to their shambolic shows with a revolving door of artists and honourary members. Depending on their location in the world you might find more people on stage than in the crowd.

Take your shoes off
With sugary doses of indie-pop, the up-rocked skank of reggae plus the sunshine of Jimmy Buffet and the avant garde of Talking Heads, a genre they've dubbed Hamm Jamm, Still Flyin will hold themselves accountable if your dancing shoes wear out in one night. But then again, with a band website titled www.takeyourshoesoffyoudontneedtheminthesky.com, they've already suggested you remove them. Expect tunes like 'Lucky It's A Ghost Town Around Here' (see vid), 'Aerosmith Take Me To The Otherside' and 'Forever Dudes'

Flyin Facts
They've played alongside the likes of Architecture in Helsinki finding a musical kinship with the oddball Melbournites, as well as Jens Lekman and Spiral Stairs who curated and hosted them at the 2008 Sled Island Festival in Calgary. Last year they released their debut album Never Gunna Touch The Ground after a succession of singles and EPs. Hamm Jamm, more fun for your feet than toe jam.

Review: Dan Deacon live at Paradiso

And what a master stroke it was to let the Pains Of Being Pure At Heart lead off, lulling the crowd into a false sense of security, in harmonies and melodies before Dan Deacon takes the helm and tears everyone new eardrums.
DIY in his set up (pink gaffer tape, a green skull-strobe, an epileptic traffic light and some keyboards on a table) and hilarious in his introduction, Dan Deacon is all about crowd participation. Set off the stage and on the floor in an inclusive manner, he makes requests of his audience, not demands. Before the music gets going he sets the mood with a lesson in crowd participation that sees almost all the audience squat on the floor before, with a raised arm and pointed finger embarrassing those too cool to do as he asks. And then he begins. Like a schizophonic ringtone version of Ministry's "Jesus Built My Hotrod", Deacon's music is intense yet playful, serious yet pisstake, ear piercing and bowel trembling - if there is a funky smell in the hall, it's 'cos he found people's brown notes. He wails into the microphone as effects distorts his voice so he's speaking in tongues. His arm raised to the skies, he is a man possessed like, if you'll pardon it, a fallen deacon. Crowd surfers and moshers rage in the old church, almost falling on his desk as he nearly loses the skull-strobe.

Intermittently, when the crowd needs a break from the intensity, he plays games. Whether it's everyone with their hands on their neighbours heads, or dance offs with the lights on, Deacon keeps it interesting. The most amazing however comes when he pushes everyone to one side of the hall. To an infectious yet repetitive beat, like a sped-up version of the congo-line song he takes two 'volunteers' to form an arc with their arms before another couple move through the arc to form the beginnings of a tunnel. Nearly the entire audience play along and the tunnel worms from his DJ desk out the doors of the main hall, into the foyer, on to the street, around the building, up the wheelchair ramp and back into the hall finishing at the DJ desk. Ridiculous yet amazing.

So amazing is it, we bother not to risk being disappointed by seeing Hatchem Social play in the small hall, and call it a night 'cos Dan Fuckin' Deacon throws parties harder than Kenny Fuckin' Powers throws a fastball.

Review: Pains of Being Pure At Heart live at Paradiso

A little treasure is The Pains of Being Pure at Heart's debut album. They're indie-pop New Yorkers who sway from moments of My Bloody Valentine to the early upbeat riffing of Ash or Siamese Dream-era Smashing Pumpkins. Both catchy and naively sexy - kinda like mono - it makes you pine for your youth, especially if you grew up listening to Siamese Dream or Brisbane's Screamfeeder boy-girl harmonies. And if they didn't spell it out with their name, tracks like "Young Adult Friction", "A Teenager in Love" and "This Love is Fucking Right" make it pretty obvious this young band are wearing their indie-hearts on their sleeves, captured it in three-chord pop and harmonies.



But if you grew up listening to Screamfeeder you'll recall both Tim and Kelly had decent voices. These days you can do a lot in the studio with vocal layering but live you're on your own. And with the Internet sweeping kids too quickly from the garage to the main hall of Amsterdam's Paradiso, they haven't a lot of time to refine their chops - let alone let them stew. Accepting success before maturity is just one of the Pains of Being Pure At Heart. Singer Kip Berman (aka Jason Biggs) lacks the vocal umph on stage, crackling on notes as if his 'taco fell in the fryer'. Likewise keyboardist/singer Peggy Wang's voice can't seem to sing through with her Joey Ramone bangs. It's almost charming in that shy teen thing they go for, but a bum note stinks.
Musically though I really enjoy it. I can't stop my left leg from doing that cool, one legged wobble while right leg stays strong. And if my arm isn't around my baby, then as I've seen the kids do, my right hand is on left elbow in front of torso, lost in the moment, head slightly tilted with a sympathetic nod to their pains... and voices.

Review: Bell Orchestre at the Paradiso

I went to see the lovely Bell Orchestre at Paradiso last night - below the video to 'throw it in the fire' is my review.

'We make art music, we're instrumental,' double bass player for Bell Orchestre, Richard Parry announces on their last song of the night with quotation fingers and mock-denial to the crowd who opt for a rock song over a love song, a choice put forward by violinist Sarah Neufeld.

For Parry and Neufeld, Bell Orchestre plays second fiddle to their busier, bigger band, Arcade Fire. However with Bell Orchestre, signed to Canada's flagship indie label Arts & Crafts, accompanied by fellow members Pietro Amato (French horn), Kaveh Nabatian (trumpet), Stefan Schneider (drums) and Mike Feuerstack (lap steel guitar) they incorporate the chamber pop elements of Arcade Fire while going beyond. Avant garde folk and jazz, moments of dub, el mariachi horns and yes, rock all get a look in to As Seen Through Windows their album released in march.

Live, admittedly at first I thought it would to be rough going. Their first song, a scattered collection of horns and strings. But as they settle in, or as I do, the experimentation with off-timings and shrill notes feel more cohesive, as grooves slide their way in and a momentum builds.
Possibly an 'art' outlet or a breeding ground for ideas, they swing from sweeping strings delicate, to the elephant-triumphant blows of the french horn and bass saxophone, onwards to shaking staccato rhythms. Parry's pulsing double bass pulls sounds from his quiver beyond his bow with drumsticks on strings, hand-drumming on the body, effects pedals building on Schneider's flexible percussive backbone. On top of the violins and brass, once they get going melodicas, keyboards and tricky overdubs all lend themselves to the cacophonic brink of the indie-orchestra before bringing it back down to simple 'oohs and aahs' of a distant choral group. It's the closest we got to actual singing - but it isn't missed.

The band themselves are upbeat. Not only were they on the last gig of their European tour but also extremely relieved to see more than one person in the Paradiso's kliene zaal – as was the case last time they played here. Instead it was 3/4 full and all very appreciative – and no doubt more next time.

Video: Talking shop with Girl Talk Part 2

Did I say tomorrow... I meant next week - but better late than never for Part 2 of my Girl Talk interview.
See full report...
Live, Girl Talk invites mayhem. Those who have been to a Girl Talk show know the drill and first up are those with the most Dutch courage, in Amsterdam there's many. Before the first few riffs were out Gregg was joined by his band mates on stage, the thrashing, sweaty masses – booty shakin' girls, dudes clammering for podium placement in front of the crowd on the floor, someone even brought balloons.
And on the floor it was just as crazy, a packed house for usual the club night Noodlanding, the special guest kept people dancing til four in the morn.

Video Interview: Line after line with Dels

I recently interviewed British MC Dels for Spinearth.tv but the sound didn't work with them so I'm posting it here. Can't have all that genius be for nothing.

From: Spinearth.tv
Up n coming British MC, Dels arrives on stage with a bouncing enthusiasm to a hard hitting live drummer and DJ. Supporting Yo Majesty around Europe it's probably the smallest crowd he's played to on the tour and is quick to call the audience to the front. Opener "Eating Clouds" sets the tone, it's upbeat but obstract. Having caught the ears of Hot Chip, the hip electro outfit are now producing his tracks, giving him a unique palette for him to paint his rhymes, the likes of "Eating Clouds", "Shapeshifter", "Myself Malfunction", and "Line After Line". As he notes, it's cliché but he's trying to "push the boundaries". With a design background – from toys to installations – it's all about creating for Dels.
Performing alongside the charismatic ladies of Yo Majesty, they were quick to support his live show, but also give him tips. As a result both he and his tour manager admit his performance has improved ten-fold and he's already thinking about how to improve the next tour. He and Yo Majesty will be back on the continent in the summer for a few shows and festivals so be sure to catch them then.
Dels' myspace
Dels' Blogspot

Video: Eagles of Death Metal rock Amsterdam

I filmed the Eagles of Death Metal show at Paradiso for SPINearth.tv last week. It was a great show but little did I know that I had friends at the gig... turns out they got backstage and partied with Joey 'Sexy Mexy' Costello and Big Hands O'Connor... and drank their rider. Ho-hum, here's my report.
Click here for video
The Eagles of Death Metal are fucking rad: sweaty-sexy-truck-stop-rock-n-roll-fucking-rad. Tongue firmly in cheek while still paying respect to the Rolling Stones, ZZ Top, Lynard Skynard, Foghat and all the great swampy southern skids that ever pickled their livers in sour mash, a EoDM is the best dang knees-up since the Devil went down to Georgia.
And so Jesse 'the Devil' Hughes, Darlin' Dave, Big Hands O'Connor and Joey Castillo the Sexy Mexy took the stage – albeit ironically to "Straight Outta Compton" – and it wasn't long before they let us know what they came to do – Bang. Other standouts throughout the set included "Cherry Cola", "I Want You So Hard" and "High Voltage".
But that wasn't enough. All three levels of the sold out Paradiso crowd were spilling over each other cheering and near done blew the roof off the old church as the Devil took the stage for the encore. He was visibly taken back, pacing the stage, soaking it up and that only made the cheer louder. So he mellowed them down with an old country ballad before covering The Ramones' "Beat on The Brat" and the Stones' "Brown Sugar" to which the rest of the band joined him before closing with "Wannabe in LA".
The Devil's revival rolled into Amsterdam that night and possessed the normally placid Dutch crowd, leaving them baptised in beer and rock n roll and exorcised of all the boring and straight in their life… at least until the next day.

Eagles of Death Metal website
Eagles of Death metal mySpace

Review: Ugly Duckling at Paradiso

Ugly Duckling: song - "I won't Let It Die" from Audacity

I don't want to be all like "remember the ol' skool', but, remember the old skool? Shit moves so fast that when I say "old skool" I'm really just referring to four years ago, back when DJs used records rather than CDs, laptops or serato. I mean proper turntablism, and where a rap show was simply two turntables and a microphone.

These days Ugly Duckling are not the coolest thing in hiphop, no autotune or krunk beats, no T-Pain. Andy C looks like your IT guy on casual friday in white sneakers, blue jeans and a white button-up shirt while Young Einstein, with his baggy cargo pants and goatie beard could be your mechanic. It's really only the tattooed and heavy Dizzy Dustin that still looks part of the 2009's hiphop culture.

But the boys from Longbeach maintain that conscious/backpacker hiphop sound of the 90s for fans of J5, Kool Keith, Beastie Boys and the Native Tongues groups like A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul and Jungle Brothers. Live, most cuts came from 2001 debut Journey to Anywhere and 2003's Taste the Secret, knowing full well that's what the crowd came to hear, but a few newbies were peppered throughout from upcoming Audacity. It was the bigger tunes where horns blazed, the breaks cracked and their upbeat raps that really got the crowd moving, yet occasionally they slowed their flow for the stoners. They brought up a female fan on stage for "Pick Up Lines" and invited one confident local MC to rap in Dutch, he did a decent job too. And if that wasn't enough, Dizzy shared the Jack Daniels from his rider, along with a whole bunch of cooties, with the entire front row before leaving. A fun show for sure... old skool, you know four years ago.

of Montreal review

From: Amsterdam Weekly Blog
Despite of Montreal's support act, Casiokids filling Paradiso's small hall back in December, the Norwegians began playing to a relatively empty room, but soon punters poured in. In the large hall their sound seemed more dense than in the smaller space upstairs and what started a little shaky built into a set with casios pumping out rave riffs, cowbells echoing The Rapture and indecipherable falsettos in their native tongue. They may not have won over the entire crowd but by the end, the hall was near full and moving as the band enjoyed every minute. As of Montreal's support all around Europe throughout January, 2009 could be a great year for Casiokids.

Having not seen of Montreal before, I expected a show not only full of campy flamboyance and grandeur but pomposity and perfectionism that artists like Kevin Barnes can sometimes carry as baggage. Perfectionism where ill-measured tempos are the cause of mid-song stoppages, where fans take too many camera-photos for his liking and "can I have more Guitar Three in Fold-back Four?" can ruin the show. Well to the first two; of flamboyance and grandeur, I say "and then some". But to pedantic on-stage tantrums over trivial shit the average punter won't hear, an apology is in order.

On the contrary, Barnes seemed humble with his stage presence, allowing a chaotic indie-arena spectacular to ensue around him. Admittedly, he's no wallflower, dressed to impress with costume changes and all the while displaying both vocal talents and persona, but the show was indeed bigger than him. With tripped-out animation on the projector screen, Guitarist Bryan Poole carrying the singed wings of the Angel of Death on his back and some pretty sweet white Raybans, a lion for a sound man and the most half-arsed interpretive dance troupe dressed as pigs, ninja mimes and gold Buddhas falling and swaying with piss-take and naff charm, in and out of the band members, there was plenty to look at.

As for rock n roll, the upbeat songs rolled into each other with only the slightest nod between the band, fuzzed out poptastic tunes one after another, most of which came from Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer and latest Skeletal Lamping. There was the indie-disco of "Id Engager" and "Suffer for Fashion" as stand outs that got the crowd moving, and the delightful "Bunny Ain't No Kind of Rider" with its wonderful line 'To me you're just some faggy girl and I need a lover with soul power, you ain't got no soul power'.

In closing, modesty shone through again as, rather than doing their biggest hit, they opted for the biggest hit – a chaotically loud, balls to the wall version of "Smells Like Teen Spirit". While electronic beats took the place of the drum kit for half the show, on "Teen Spirit" the skins thundered down, Poole shredded and even keyboardist Dottie Alexander picked up the axe for a wall of fuzz – four guitars blazing. The audience were sent back to '91, crowd surfing and moshing with teen-abandon to embrace what probably 99% of us never witnessed in real life. While I've heard my unfair share of pub acts crucifying the classic it was the best damn cover band I could imagine, all the way to the final feedback and guitar throwing & catching schtick displayed by both Barnes and Poole (remember when Novoselic forgot to catch at 92s VMAs and it knocked him out, re-lived here by Novoselic himself.)
We’re only 22 days in so I might be counting my chickens'n all that but of Montreal are definitely in the front running for gig of the year.

If you missed the show catch them at the Tivoli at Utrecht tomorrow night or last night's show on the Fabchannel soon.

And to Matthew, apologies for ruining the surprise ending of the night but you asked for a review. Maybe in Glasgow they'll do "Lithium" or "the Degrassi theme".

of Montreal mySpace
Casiokids mySpace

of Montreal preview

From: Amsterdam Weekly Blog
Slinky and camp indie-pop with a schizo-bent and a splash of glam, like Phoenix meets Beck circa Midnight Vultures and Ziggy Stardust, of Montreal are upbeat swingers who treat genres like a game of hopscotch, jumping here, jumping there. From whiney indie, Kevin Barnes and co including his alter-ego Georgie Fruit, will raise you up to chin-stroking baroque pop and dizzy disco before dropping you down to street-level with white-boy funk.

"Id Engager" from 2008's Skeletal Lamping

That said, they have an annoying name. Like you can't say "Have you heard of of Montreal" because your friend replies "Yeah, a city in Canada. PS you're stuttering". It doesn't help that they, like silverchair, mess with their typeset so that "of" is with a lower case "O" and doesn't even look like part of their name when you write it. Even more confusingly, of Montreal are not of Montreal, they are of Athens Georgia, home of R.E.M, of course.

of Montreal play Amsterdam's Paradiso tomorrow, 21 January and Utrecht's Tivoli on Friday 23 January. Support is by Norway's Casiokids so get there for 19.30. Entry is €12.50 + membership.

What's Diplo up to in '09

I recently got the chance to speak with Diplo backstage at Amsterdam's Paradiso for Spin's new online portal, Spinearth.tv. We chatted about all matter of things; his new project Major Laser, Netherlands ghetto music and 'philanthroperising' among other fascinating topics.

From: Spinearth.tv
Philadelphia party maestro, Diplo’s show at the Paradiso on Friday 5 December was one for the books with support by local Genesis crew the Beesmunt Soundsystem, Roger 72 and The Walk. Occupying the venue’s Grote Zaal when I looked around the hall it felt like an old school rave, a scene the Paradiso was intrinsic in back in the late 80s. But at the same time I got an insight into what Diplo’s infamous Philly Hollertronix parties were all about earlier this century – an eclectic mix of party jams where anything goes with the whole crowd waiting on the edge of their dancing shoes for the next tune – would it make complete sense in the mix or hit you from left field? Teamed with Casiokids and Yacht in the small room earlier and it was the best night out I've had in ages.

Ticketmaster & Slave

From: Amsterdam Weekly
Recently trip-hop pioneer Tricky played at Paradiso. His recently released album had reinvigorated my interest, so I rushed to an outlet and bought two tickets. Somehow I'd spent $64.90 (without beer or T-shirt) before he took the stage. How's that? Well, two times tickets ($52), two times service costs ($6.90), two times Paradiso monthly memberships ($6). Simply gig-going is getting more expensive, and it's not due to egotistical rock stars or diminishing record sales. The add-on costs are spiralling out of control.
The quickest add-on to excuse is the membership both Paradiso and Melkweg require; either $3 monthly or $18 annually (which allows discounts and deals that a monthly member doesn't get). Melkweg's Marketing Manager Jon Heemsbergen explains, 'It's a multi-disciplinary, cultural centre. Melkweg theatre, cinema, gallery and media room are small-sized rooms. It's not possible to gain profit here. A small part of our income, nine per cent, is subsidised by the municipality of Amsterdam. Because of the membership regulation, Melkweg is able to do what we do for all our customers.'
Service charges are more complicated. 'If you buy a ticket on the night of the show we don't charge any service costs,' says Heemsbergen. 'In advance at Melkweg box office, we charge $1.50-$2.50 per ticket. If you buy a ticket [through Ticket Service] it will cost you a little more, but you actually pay for the guarantee to get in.' But shouldn't the purchase of a ticket be guarantee enough? Is it a chargeable privilege to buy your ticket in advance?
Event companies and venues like Paradiso and Melkweg pay leading ticketing distributor Ticket Service (Ticketmaster internationally) to sell their tickets. Ticket Service also takes a fee from the customer on a sliding scale based on the purchase amount, rather than its processing cost, because, as Peter van Ruijven, General Manager of Ticket Service Netherlands says, 'You can't put our standard fee on low prices, so we invented the relation with the ticket price.'
Had I bought my $26 ticket online I'd have paid a $4.15 service charge instead of $3.45 from the outlet. I'd also have paid $1.06 to receive my ticket as a PDF document in my inbox, or in the post. However, a ticket to the delightfully named Fuck Buttons this week for $12.50 will have a $3.55 online service charge and $0.56 delivery fee. This sliding rate in delivery fee, Van Ruijven says, is due to 'dealing with software licensing costs'.
Why do I pay two service charges by Ticket Service when I buy the two tickets as one service? 'All our costs are related to one sold ticket.' And why can't I buy tickets to more than one event in one purchase, thus reducing charges? Van Ruijven says they're working on it. 'Perhaps in time.'
'When we chose Ticket Service they were the biggest and best distribution network physically and that was important to us,' says Jeanine Albronda, Head of Publicity and Marketing at Paradiso. 'Both Melkweg and Paradiso are experimenting with online companies that are cheaper than Ticket Service for e-ticketing. They offer different ways of charging the customers. The fee systems are very important because that affects our customers, and that's who we work for.' So should Ticket Service be worried? 'They didn't have competition and now they do. It's easy to see that they should be worried. We're watching what they'll do and how they'll respond.'
A relatively new avenue for event companies and venues such as Sugar Factory is Paylogic. Commercial Director Jan Willen van der Meer says, 'We charge a fee of $1.95 per transaction to the event company, not the consumer. This is our sole income. It's up to the event company what they want to do with that fee. They might include it in the ticket price, add it as a service charge or even inflate that service charge.' The big difference to consumers is only one booking fee whether you buy one or multiple tickets, and there's no charge for sending a PDF. Should you fear the internet, you can buy tickets from Primera, with a $3 booking fee.
So should we boycott Ticketmaster over service charges like Pearl Jam did in 1994? The effort by the band was appreciated but resulted in few gigs in the US over the next three years, and we'd like to see a show before 2011.
There are no great alternatives-- at least while online companies fight for position in the market. To see a band whose ticket is available through Ticket Service, van Ruijven says the best way is via an outlet store, paying cash. Otherwise you could pin your hopes on lastminuteticketshop.nl for half-price tickets on the day, or hope it doesn't sell out and buy your tickets on the door. But that's risky, and you may face a scalper's wrath. It's a tricky business.

Backstage with Casiokids

A few weeks ago I chatted with Norway's fun-lovin' Casiokids backstage at the Paradiso for SPIN Magazine's new online community, Spin Earth – check it out, with correspondents all over the world, it's a global network of exclusive music videos, interviews, performances and general band shenanigans. Fully sick.
Casiokids return to the Paradiso on January 21 and Utrecht’s Tivoli on January 23 supporting Of Montreal.

If superman dug electro-pop he’d probably chill at his icey pad, the Fortress of Solitude to Norway’s Casiokids. The chiming, synth-soaked tunes, sparse and echoed, would sound great amongst his acoustics of ice and crystal. The ethereal vocals, all in Norwegian, would shimmer and dance on every icicle.
At Amsterdam’s Paradiso, these five boys from Bergen entertained a dancing crowd in the kleine zaal with plenty of instrument-swapping and DIY abandon, a fun mix of electro-pop and afro-beat, like Royksopp meets Vampire Weekend, Cut Copy and Liquid Liquid, all with a Scandinavian charm and a touch of innocence through tunes like “Gront lys i alle ledd”, "Fot i hose” and “Verdens storste land”.
Chatting to the band afterwards their charm isn’t just in their music, happy to share stories, laughs and beers as we move through the maze of Paradiso’s backstage corridors.

Flamenco Metal: Rodrigo Y Gabriela

From: Amsterdam Weekly
Rising from the ashes of small-time Mexican metal band Tierra Acida, Rodrigo Y Gabriela are an acoustic guitar duo that may just make your parents interested in the finer works of Slayer and Cannibal Corpse.
Their unique style developed from time as modern day mariachi, busking on the streets of Mexico and Ireland, combine elements of metal, tradition flamenco and elegant classical guitar. In Ireland, with busking peers like Damien Rice, the duo soon went from the streets to cafes and galleries and onwards to the international stages of London’s Hammersmith Apollo and the WOMAD festival circuit.
On stage, the workload between the two is divided equally. Rodrigo noodles through high-speed solos and ethereal yet technical finger picking while Gabriela’s heavily percussive rhythmic style pays as much respect to Latin guitar as to metal’s finest rhythm sections (think of Lars Urlich and Cliff Burton as you listen Rod and Gab’s interpretation of Metallica’s “Orion”).
The composition of originals like “Vikingman” and “Juan Loco” switch from Latin grooves to “Flight Of The Bumblebee” ferocity, while “Tamacun” is like the soundtrack to a Columbian drug lord car chase, but the real crowd-pleasers come from the inventiveness of their covers.
Live, the duo are seated and spotlighted while the crowd, black-clad metal heads with their hair pony-tailed for the occasion, world music hippies and all guitar lovers in between assist in sing-a-longs to Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” and Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway To Heaven”.
Whether fans knew the duo through their eponymous studio album Rodrigo Y Gabriela or via live recordings, they could rest assured that on the night the meticulous compositions aren’t ruined by ego-ridden improvisation. “Our solos are exactly what’s on the record” the duo insists. “As a metal fan and guitarist you always want to hear the same fucking solo!”

Kraak en Smaak

From: Amsterdam Weekly
You know you’ve made it when American cop shows with initials in their titles are using your songs. Leiden’s upbeat, funky breaks trio Kraak en Smaak scored just that with feelgood single ‘Squeeze Me’ earlier this year. That said, they don’t really need CSI’s help—the song’s own video, of flick-book trick photography was cool enough for Kanye’s tick of approval. Their most recent album Plastic People, has been a huge break-out overseas, allowing them to tour the world, sell out New York gigs and appear on US talk shows. Onstage, it switches between DJ and band mode, but Tuesday night's show will see a busy stage with singer, MC, drums, bass, keyboards and percussion to leave a crunchy after-taste. (Colin Delaney) Paradiso, Grote Zaal, 20.00, €12.50 + membership.
Note: Name not actually a reference to hard drugs – actually translates from Dutch to English as "Crunchy & Tasty".

A night out in Amsterdam

After a recent Tricky show at Amsterdam's Paradiso I hung around out the front to ask a few punters, some coming out of Tricky, others going into a hiphop show, where the best night spots are to go out.
If you're coming to Amsterdam soon and want to find where the cool kids hang, rather than just sitting in the Leidseplein at a tourist's bar, listen closely.
Pass the Dutch.