(Morning Star, Wednesday 22 December 2004)
Beauty and the Beast
Byre Theatre, St Andrews
A single red rose centre-stage opens tonight's magical fairy tale and, as the motif that holds the play together, it's the perfect introduction, writes KIRSTIE MAY.
Rita Henderson's direction has the cast making the most of a minimalist set, the introduction of a few key pieces changing the atmosphere from Beauty's light, happy family world to the darkness of the Beast, played to frightening effect by Tober Reilly.
Francis Maston is the merchant father who offers his children anything and manages only to get Beauty's rose, damning himself to certain death, while Nicola Filshie plays the selfless Beauty, sacrificing her own happiness for her father's freedom.
The sisters, Ruth Brown and Jessica Robinson, are the characters that push the play over into panto territory - all grimacing faces and screeching voices.
The prevalence of music and dance in the production helps as well with the festive feeling, including inventive routines with the Beast's menacing horse and some nice ensemble dances with Beauty's whole family.
There are some bizarre additions - Richard Hollis as Beast's "tick-tock" man servant has the allure of a Buttons character for children, but a nightmarish quality that should interest the adults in the audience.
All in all, the show is a well-executed and captivating interpretation of a fairytale favourite, carried off with The Byre's customary professionalism.
Wednesday 22 December 2004
Saturday 27 November 2004
One step too far for faux pop minxes Girls Aloud
(Morning Star, Saturday 27 November 2004)
Girls Aloud - What Will the Neighbours Say?
(Polydor)
With a raft of excellent singles that only the most churlish would deny had exercised a foot-tapping effect on them, Girls Aloud's debut long-playing record Sound of the Underground was a pop winner, writes KIRSTIE MAY.
Having thrown off the shackles of reality TV, this, the difficult second album, should be the one to confirm that Aloudsound is here to stay and that the girls aren't for turning.
Garish colours are nailed to the mast early doors - the first four tracks on What Will the Neighbours Say? are singles.
The irresistibly catchy Love Machine is a pleasant diversion, but the ungodly cover of the Pretenders' I'll Stand by You is a reeking disaster and the version of Jump, the Pointer Sisters classic, is similarly horrid.
Five indistinct personalitites, Girls Aloud have tried their hand as the co-writers for a reported five out of these fourteen tracks and you can pick them out with your eyes closed.
The most offensive of these is Thank Me Daddy, which appears to be imploring Daddy to be grateful for those activities of his minxy daughter that he's not been party to.
The album tracks sound, in turn, like something that pop's anti-Christ Kylie threw back or Louis Walsh's blueprint for a nation of underage prostitutes.
Dire disco diva tracks merge unpleasantly with dirgy faux soul, taking the whole thing a pop step too far for anyone older than 13 and in full control of their critical faculties.
Girls Aloud - What Will the Neighbours Say?
(Polydor)
With a raft of excellent singles that only the most churlish would deny had exercised a foot-tapping effect on them, Girls Aloud's debut long-playing record Sound of the Underground was a pop winner, writes KIRSTIE MAY.
Having thrown off the shackles of reality TV, this, the difficult second album, should be the one to confirm that Aloudsound is here to stay and that the girls aren't for turning.
Garish colours are nailed to the mast early doors - the first four tracks on What Will the Neighbours Say? are singles.
The irresistibly catchy Love Machine is a pleasant diversion, but the ungodly cover of the Pretenders' I'll Stand by You is a reeking disaster and the version of Jump, the Pointer Sisters classic, is similarly horrid.
Five indistinct personalitites, Girls Aloud have tried their hand as the co-writers for a reported five out of these fourteen tracks and you can pick them out with your eyes closed.
The most offensive of these is Thank Me Daddy, which appears to be imploring Daddy to be grateful for those activities of his minxy daughter that he's not been party to.
The album tracks sound, in turn, like something that pop's anti-Christ Kylie threw back or Louis Walsh's blueprint for a nation of underage prostitutes.
Dire disco diva tracks merge unpleasantly with dirgy faux soul, taking the whole thing a pop step too far for anyone older than 13 and in full control of their critical faculties.
A rehash of other bands
(Morning Star, Saturday 27 November 2004)
The Kinison - What Are You Listening To?
(Atlantic)
I LIKE to think that The Kinison's album title is like your mum coming into your room with a "what are you listening to?" and shutting off the stereo, writes KIRSTIE MAY.
And you'll wish that she would - this album is a real rancid slice of nonsense pie.
Opening track The Farm and The Girls plunges into some sub-Cooper Temple Clause rock posturing and, all of a sudden, some no-hopers like Kasabian seem a credible option.
As the album unfolds, each track seems worse than the last.
The unpleasant Oh Boy That Girl Can Move betrays the band's US roots, even though their sound is British to its core.
The heavy-handed rock that The Kinison are peddling is relentless and uninspiring, with guitars that are too brutal and a voice that never changes, forcing any melody that may exist to bury itself shamefully.
The single You'll Never Guess Who Died is nothing new, a rehash of countless other guitar bands with little to say from any given decade.
The Kinison come from Oblong, Illinois, which a rudimentary search reveals has less than 2,000 residents.
As such, it's no surprise that the boys are breaking out - but this is not the way.
Definitely a garage band who should've stayed in the garage.
Saturday 13 November 2004
Booth's ego trip destroys the show
(Morning Star, Saturday 13 November 2004)
LIVE: Tim Booth, Cottiers Theatre, Glasgow
AS the former singer of one of Manchester's most likable bands, Tim Booth had it made, writes KIRSTIE MAY.
James started in 1983 on the mythical Factory Records and enjoyed heady musical successes among students and dreamers for years, the most famous of which being singalong classic Sit Down and the most wonderful of which being Eno-produced paean to lust and madness, Laid.
But what now of the shaggy-haired romantic? Well, the hair's gone for a start, giving him a curiously malevolent look.
As Booth takes to the stage in this converted church with axe supremo and producer Lee "Muddy" Baker and chanteuse Lisa by his side, the air of the misfit hangs about them like intoxicating cologne.
Starting out with a sweet and clear version of Laid, Booth becomes increasingly agitated by the Glaswegian spirit and urges the crowd to quieten down, even stopping halfway through to go back to the first note and demanding no singalongs.
As beautiful as Booth's rolling, honeyed voice is, right through to the undulating Fall in Love, his overly precious nature is irritating and the voice of Lisa can only be characterised as a screech.
Sadly, what would have been a wonderful performance by a truly great talent is ruined by the self-congratulatory nature of the show.
The rapport that should have been built up with the audience never materialises and the fans are left wondering what on earth they're here for.
LIVE: Tim Booth, Cottiers Theatre, Glasgow
AS the former singer of one of Manchester's most likable bands, Tim Booth had it made, writes KIRSTIE MAY.
James started in 1983 on the mythical Factory Records and enjoyed heady musical successes among students and dreamers for years, the most famous of which being singalong classic Sit Down and the most wonderful of which being Eno-produced paean to lust and madness, Laid.
But what now of the shaggy-haired romantic? Well, the hair's gone for a start, giving him a curiously malevolent look.
As Booth takes to the stage in this converted church with axe supremo and producer Lee "Muddy" Baker and chanteuse Lisa by his side, the air of the misfit hangs about them like intoxicating cologne.
Starting out with a sweet and clear version of Laid, Booth becomes increasingly agitated by the Glaswegian spirit and urges the crowd to quieten down, even stopping halfway through to go back to the first note and demanding no singalongs.
As beautiful as Booth's rolling, honeyed voice is, right through to the undulating Fall in Love, his overly precious nature is irritating and the voice of Lisa can only be characterised as a screech.
Sadly, what would have been a wonderful performance by a truly great talent is ruined by the self-congratulatory nature of the show.
The rapport that should have been built up with the audience never materialises and the fans are left wondering what on earth they're here for.
Sunday 24 October 2004
Eighties pop sophistry from Denmark
(Morning Star, Sunday 24 October 2004)
Behind Our Masks We Are Perfectly Ordinary People - Superheroes
(Sidewinder Sounds)
When all is said and done, the Danes aren't famous for much. Bacon. Beer. Hans Christian Andersen.
But Superheroes could change all that. They've made a hefty attempt with this, their British debut.
A six-piece, the band have been releasing records - and winning awards - for six years, though they are still in their early twenties. Obviously, careers start earlier in Denmark than Britain.
Labelmates with Junior Senior, both bands share close links and a similar sound, but only in the best possible way.
The tunes are pure pop, but the sound, especially on Johnny and I and Rich And Famous is a major '80s throwback.
The beauty of Voice (On My Radio) outweighs any British pop in 2004 and we should feel shamed because of it.
Like The Hives‚ British breakthrough Behind Our Masks is a collection of the best tracks from Superheroes' first three albums and, as such, is a little disjointed.
But the record still retains an air of class and pop sophistication found on those of bands far beyond their years and gives the air of being a dirty little secret. Like a school disco when you finally got to pull your long-term crush. Lovely.
Behind Our Masks We Are Perfectly Ordinary People - Superheroes
(Sidewinder Sounds)
When all is said and done, the Danes aren't famous for much. Bacon. Beer. Hans Christian Andersen.
But Superheroes could change all that. They've made a hefty attempt with this, their British debut.
A six-piece, the band have been releasing records - and winning awards - for six years, though they are still in their early twenties. Obviously, careers start earlier in Denmark than Britain.
Labelmates with Junior Senior, both bands share close links and a similar sound, but only in the best possible way.
The tunes are pure pop, but the sound, especially on Johnny and I and Rich And Famous is a major '80s throwback.
The beauty of Voice (On My Radio) outweighs any British pop in 2004 and we should feel shamed because of it.
Like The Hives‚ British breakthrough Behind Our Masks is a collection of the best tracks from Superheroes' first three albums and, as such, is a little disjointed.
But the record still retains an air of class and pop sophistication found on those of bands far beyond their years and gives the air of being a dirty little secret. Like a school disco when you finally got to pull your long-term crush. Lovely.
Saturday 9 October 2004
Doherty's sorry saga
(Morning Star, Saturday 09 October 2004)
Babyshambles, Dundee Reading Rooms
LIVE: What can be said about the so-called mind of a generation? KIRSTIE MAY writes.
That he's a tortured soul who's a victim of his own intellect? That the socially unacceptable means that he employs to get by - drugs and alcohol - are merely a necessary release? That we are not worthy?
The music press has afforded Pete Doherty, formerly of The Libertines, now Babyshambles‚ a religious mythology.
Fans of the band are notoriously zealous and the Aberdeen date on this tour saw Doherty crying off due to a "fall" and a riot ensuing, in which the venue was evacuated.
Riots, drugs, jail - where controversy is, Doherty will surely follow.
And it is precisely this folklore that has allowed Babyshambles to shuffle on through the dark alleys of rock'n'roll.
As ever, the hype is so unjustified that it's heinous. There's a racket going on and the punk ethos is far from being invoked.
It is total lack of cohesion of any sort, although the tunes are there. Just.
Who came to see this band and decided that they were going to set the world alight?
For the fans, Doherty may as well be the only man on the stage, so redundant are the haphazard collection of ghouls who surround him.
It's a shame for the band and the fans that they will never be anything more than props in the whole sorry saga and that their music will never be more than a cautionary tale.
Saturday 10 April 2004
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