Who is.... KT Tunstall?

(Morning Star, Saturday 29 January 2005)

IN FOCUS: KT Tunstall

RELEASING her debut album Eye To The Telescope this month, KT Tunstall is a truly original talent destined for great things.

Born in Edinburgh and brought up in St Andrews in Fife, Tunstall comes from the same burgeoning East Coast scene as the Fence Collective, The Beta Band and Dogs Die in Hot Cars.

The individuality of her voice has a strident quality previously heard from artists such as Norah Jones and others and the album's sexy torch singer elements will even interest many pop fans.

Her youth belies her gift producing harmonious dream-soaked soundscapes, often with a boozy, bluesy twist and her lyrics are always tough with a sensitive undercurrent.

"Don't want to be second best," she intones on Miniature Disasters and there is no way that she could be.

The vocal that she lends to all the songs on her debut album is rich beyond her years and the dark side of tracks like Another Place To Fall sets her apart from a lot of the nu-country folksy female vocalists that are so prevalent this year.

The intensity of her voice and the soulfulness of her music shows that Tunstall has a lot more to give, even after this incredible debut.

With celebrity fans including Jools Holland and a raft of positive reviews under her belt, Tunstall is the woman to kick Dido's bony behind off the top spot and enrich the charts - and our lives - with her truly extraordinary talent.

Solid rockers

(Morning Star, Saturday 29 January 2005)

LIVE: 22-20s, Edinburgh Liquid Rooms

THE 22-20s are a band that it helps not to know anything about - where they're from, who they are - none of this means anything when Devil in Me kicks in, rocking relentlessly.

The trio from Rock Central are kings of rocked-up blues, with riffs to die for and a bad attitude that would ruin McFly's career.

Singles like Twenty-two Days and Such A Fool are strong, but the difference between those and album tracks is barely noticeable - they're all ballsy old-school rock standards.

Their look is pure Tindersticks, all dark shirts and suits, probably with the smell of smoky venues such as this one buried deep in the fabric.

Singer Martin Trimble peers artfully from under a mop of fair hair and dares the most static of viewers not to move to the infectious blues rhythm.

Bassist Glen Bartrup is none more Jagger, all pouting lips and floppy hair, while drummer James Irving keeps it tight and yet oh so loose.

The bands sound is beefy and big, but surprisingly melodic, more so here than on record.

They are technically perfect and there's no reason why, in this age of chancers like Kasabian, the 22-20s should not be more successful.

Gigs like this will really put them on the musical map. And not a only map of Lincolnshire, which is where they're actually from.

2005 alive

(Morning Star, Saturday 08 January 2005)

2005: Ones to watch

KIRSTIE MAY picks out the most promising music acts to look out for this year.

What was 2004 good for? In the music scene, absolutely lots, actually.

British music was flying high with the likes of Franz Ferdinand, Razorlight and the Libertines hoisting the national colours for indie, not to mention reality TV supergroup Girls Aloud going pop at every opportunity.

The same chart that brought us McFly's corking Obviously also sadly made a number one out of Three of a Kind's Babycakes, but, all in all, not too shabby.

So what of 2005? As far as wistful songstresses with a little spark, the music world's been a tundra of tiresome tweeting, all Melua and Winehouse, with only Bedingfield for respite and look how that turned out.

Happily, Jem is here to save us all. Welsh and lovely, she's been taken already to the bosom of our US cousins and signed to Dave Matthews's label, but don't let that put you off.

Boasting a season finale appearance in teenage hit The OC, the kids are already there, but picking up her album Finally Woken (Ato Records) wouldn't be the worst thing you could do for your stereo.

Handsome young hipster Kevin Mark Trail has been honing his craft with The Streets - on Let's Push Things Forward - and Nitin Sawney and it's pretty damn near perfect now.

The 24-year-old MC released the most summery single of 2004, Perspective, to little attention, but the buzz is getting turned up this year.

He's a soulful reggae kind of guy, with a pinch of rock and a head for a well-crafted tune and, if it's good enough to set all his celebrity fans foaming at the mouth, it's good enough for your beat-up stereo.

Check out the debut album Just Living (EMI) to find out what all the fuss is about - and why he's much more than the new Craig David.

Leeds natives the Kaiser Chiefs have tried their hand at this fame game before, with previous incarnation Parva, a band more interested in haircuts than hit singles.

Second time lucky for frontman Ricky, though, as the Chiefs' I Predict A Riot has to be one of the catchiest pop-punk singles to hit the music scene full in the face for years.

Their energy live is a true delight and, while the fashionable fops still nurture the retro Leeds look, they are 10 times the band, with 10 times the potential.

Listen to Employment (B Unique) from March 7 and bop like you're in the best indie disco ever.

Rooster are not what you'd call unusual.

They're a West London four-piece being pitted against the Busted, McFly and Freefaller breed, but, in truth, the only common traits are guitars - oh, and good looks.

Picking up where 1990s blues-rock noiseniks Reef left off, these lads, all in their early twenties, know how to formulate a good melody – and dirty it up proper.

With the biggest big talk since Kasabian, Rooster think that they're the cock of the walk, but it's not misplaced arrogance.

If heavy guitars and an old skool swagger's your bag, Rooster's eponymous debut - featuring stonking hit Come Get Some - is available on Brightside/BMG from January 24.

When Broken Social Scene manage to squeeze their 15 or so members into the studio, a Canadian party ensues.

A band known in the US and bound to be big here, they're far from fledgling, but fresh as the day their debut You Forgot It In People (Mercury) was released in 2003.

This year, their more chilled-out Bee Hives (Mercury) will be the album to have, be you entertaining friends in the bedsit or burning mix CDs for the uninitiated.

The ambient, multilayered sound of Bee Hives has set the fans alight, with the same feeling of weightlessness as The Earlies and all the harmonies of The Shins.

The name's a bit of a mistake, but Broken Social Scene are an absolute dream of a band.

Check them out and you'll forget you every heard of the Polyphonic Spree.

Captivating production of favourite fairytale

(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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Growing up with Elvis

(My Weekly magazine, 10 April 2004)