I think i've fallen head over heels in love. again.
Last weekend was the Great Escape festival in Brighton and I was working at wristband exchange so didn't get to enjoy the entire weekend... however, after work on the last day i had a few hours to hang around before i met up with my friend. Now, having been signed up to the text alert again this year, I was constantly being bombarded with updates about day gigs. One, however, caught my eye whilst I was wondering the streets of Brighton alone on that rainy Saturday afternoon. 'Esser will be playing Jubilee Square, outside Jubilee Library @ 5'. This 'Esser' guy was on the front cover of the weekend's programmes i'd been handing out for the last three days so I was quite intrigued, had nothing better to do, and went along..... as i said, I'm in love.
Heading off to the library at 4:45 that afternoon was the greatest decision of my weekend, because i have discovered the next big thing (obviously a bit later than some other people) and my new favourite musician.
Needless to say I couldn't stop talking about this electronic wonder when i finally met my friend later and dragged her along to his gig that very night and after i'd sent her on her way home i popped back to the grungey venue and shook this man's hand on his earlier efforts... I got the lowdown on his recent support of Mystery Jets and his headlining tour before getting an introduction... ("What's your name, hi, i'm Ben.")
Now, I thought I used to be a fan of Ladyfuzz, I saw them a couple of times, 'Bouncy Ball' is one of my favourite tracks to play as a DJ and I always thought I fancied the drummer... not enough, though, it seems, to realise who he was when i met him last Saturday night... what a fool.
So anyway, this talented drummer has stepped into the limelight to perform alone (or with his band on stage) playing upbeat, clap-along/dance-along/both electronic tracks showing his potential was stunted behind that oh-so-characteristic front woman of Ladyfuzz. I'm sure back in the day I wouldn't have been thankful for the demise of the band... things change.
If you have any sense, you'd check out the (literally) gut-wrenching video for 'I Love You' as well as listen to some of the guy's fantastic tracks on his myspace page, myspace.com/esserhq before everyone else pips you to the post...
X x X
Friday, 23 May 2008
Mystery Jets interview - Twenty One and All Grown Up...
Blaine Harrison reveals all on the new album Twenty One.
By Danielle Murray
It’s late afternoon and we’re sitting in the Glass Bar at the Scala, Kings Cross, London, which looks down onto the stage Blaine Harrison, 22 year-old front man of the Mystery Jets, will be gracing in just a few hours. Despite the fact that England isn’t Mystery Jets’
favourite place to tour, (“It’s not the most-heart warming place to play, in terms of weather and stuff”) so far, the shows have been going well. “Last night was quite a relief, we played a gig in Norwich and it just kicked off.”, the thought of which starts to cheer up our singer, “There was a stage invasion and people were ripping tambourines out of my hands”. At this point. Blaine acts out the motion of fighting thrilled 14 year-olds for his tambourine like an animated schoolboy. “It felt like 2005 all over again and reinstated a bit of belief that we can still be a messy band if we want to.” As fans of the band will
know, the Mystery Jets tend to put on a pretty lively show, something which Blaine has been missing in recent times. “I think we’ve got to a point with performing the new ecord
where we can do it all tightly but I’ve been missing the chaos we used to put into the songs. People really appreciate that… sparks flying around.” Mystery Jets have been making music since the early 90s when they were around the age of just 12 years old. 10 years down the line, Mystery Jets’ second album, Twenty One, was released just a month
ago to rave reviews, 2 years after they‘re debut, ‘Making Dens’ hit the shops. Blaine acknowledges that the process the second time around was much more stimulating. “I think working with Erol was a good thing because he’s really good at bringing out the best in all of us individually,” he says, speaking of their producer and long time friend, Erol Alkan, “he’s never actually made an album before so he was super willing to try
out new things.” Blaine, who, it transpires, takes an interest with all things old school, then starts to talk, in depth, about the clinical appearance of 60s studios in photos. “They looked like fucking scientists in lab oats, you know, and everything was so precise and technical,” he says, getting aggravated, “I think the way we recorded our album is the exact opposite of that, it’s all about exploring how you can do things the wrong way.”
This, I think, is a quote which perfectly sums up the ethics of the Mystery Jets. This sense of unusual behaviour can also be seen in the fact that Blaine’s father, Henry Harrison, in
his late 50s, is one of the five band members. However, since late 2007, Henry’s absence at live shows has been duly noted by fans which has sparked rumours of his departure or,
even, his being fired from the group. “He’s still in the band,” clarifies his son, “I guess there’s a bit of confusion there because we never really put out a press statement or anything. I mention the fact that Henry’s not seen in recent promotional photos of the band, such as the one plastered outside the venue tonight. “The fact is the five of us write songs together and then, when we perform, it’s changed now, and I think it’s something
that’s been coming for a long time.” He pauses for a while as he finishes off his can of coke. “Henry always said that he knew that there would come a time that he would have to step back and let us, you know, take the reins. We’ve been in this band since we were
kids, with him, and I think you can only go so far having someone watching over you and guiding you. Sometimes you need to break away and he understands that.” I begin to question if this is the reason why the album sounds more mature than it’s predecessor ‘Making Dens’, with the lyrics being more about real-life, grown-up situations. “It’s funny you should say it’s a more mature album because in a way it shouldn’t be, because a lot of the lyrics on the first one were Henry’s and I didn’t have much input in it whereas on the new one, we took the reins more, like I say.” I remind him that the lyrics in ‘Making Dens’ were about more unrealistic, somewhat childish, subjects, whereas songs like ‘Veiled in Grey’ on Twenty One show another side to the band which see’s him come around. “I know what you mean, it’s not about, like, Smirnoff Ice and Carling-”
And transvestites like ‘Alas Agnes’ for example, “Yeah. You have got a point. I think on the first record it was more fantastical and we were more writing about made up things, or
memories, things like that.” ‘Veiled in Grey’, Blaine’s favourite track from Twenty One, becomes the focal point in the conversation for a bit longer. ’I’ll bet you wouldn’t believe me if I whispered in your ear and said/ I can see a pink elephant and it’s standing on the corner of the bed” coos Blaine in the chorus of the album’s most meaningful track. “It felt
quite satisfying when we nailed it in the studio because it’s about something that’s really hard to sing about, the idea of the pink elephant.” Clearly quite an intense song to Blaine, he struggles trying to explain the concept, the lyrics explain all, but I leave him talking, unaided, for the tape… “Say you and me were sitting here and there was something- There was an old woman over there, a bag lady- I’m trying to think of something weirder, like a hermaphrodite over there itching his balding head or something and it’s something that we both couldn’t talk about for whatever idea but we both knew was there. That’s a
really obvious example but, the song, in terms of what it talks about, it’s about things which, for one reason or another, are really hard to talk about and that’s just a weird thing to write a song about.” Getting a bit more into the swing of things, he starts to analyse
the lyrics. “In the first verse, there’s lyrics about someone who’s sister was thrown out of home when she became a bit of a punk and rebelled and these are all real people. There’s
another one about someone who had a miscarriage. Bringing these things up in a song can kind of sooth it a bit, you know? I think I’m quite proud of that one.” Then I go and touch a nerve asking how they react to being sung about. “I think there are a couple of people who don’t know it’s about them. One came up the other day ad it was a bit awkward but I don’t really want to talk about it.” This sensitivity is common through both Blaine’s music and personality which became clear when myself, and three other interviewers, arrived at the venue. Blaine was the one to look after everyone and make sure everyone got what they needed out of the afternoon. He even offered me a place on the guest list
for the gig that night before he had to hurry away for further sound check. Before he disappears until the show, I ask about the new video for single ‘Two Doors Down’. “It was really fun to make, I mean, I hope we haven’t gone over the line,” at which he point he laughs, “in fact I’m sure we have gone over the line.” The new video sees the band play dress up to perform in a cheesy pastiche of 80s music videos, “I think what’s funniest about a lot of those ‘80s videos is how serious they’re taking it. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the Man-eater video, Hall & Oates?” Before I reply, Blaine starts crooning “oh here she comes…”. This reiterates his vast musical knowledge and enjoyment of the subject, especially when he goes on to act out the video, “it’s just how
serious they’re taking it and it’s kind of like, overlaying shots of like a panther, walking through the woods…” As he pretends to be said panther he laughs and loses the end of the sentence. “I just hope we haven’t cheesed it up too much!” As I remind him this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, as ‘Two Doors Down’ is, personally, my video of the year so far,
“Yeah,” he agrees as he stands up to leave, “cheese is good!”
By Danielle Murray
It’s late afternoon and we’re sitting in the Glass Bar at the Scala, Kings Cross, London, which looks down onto the stage Blaine Harrison, 22 year-old front man of the Mystery Jets, will be gracing in just a few hours. Despite the fact that England isn’t Mystery Jets’
favourite place to tour, (“It’s not the most-heart warming place to play, in terms of weather and stuff”) so far, the shows have been going well. “Last night was quite a relief, we played a gig in Norwich and it just kicked off.”, the thought of which starts to cheer up our singer, “There was a stage invasion and people were ripping tambourines out of my hands”. At this point. Blaine acts out the motion of fighting thrilled 14 year-olds for his tambourine like an animated schoolboy. “It felt like 2005 all over again and reinstated a bit of belief that we can still be a messy band if we want to.” As fans of the band will
know, the Mystery Jets tend to put on a pretty lively show, something which Blaine has been missing in recent times. “I think we’ve got to a point with performing the new ecord
where we can do it all tightly but I’ve been missing the chaos we used to put into the songs. People really appreciate that… sparks flying around.” Mystery Jets have been making music since the early 90s when they were around the age of just 12 years old. 10 years down the line, Mystery Jets’ second album, Twenty One, was released just a month
ago to rave reviews, 2 years after they‘re debut, ‘Making Dens’ hit the shops. Blaine acknowledges that the process the second time around was much more stimulating. “I think working with Erol was a good thing because he’s really good at bringing out the best in all of us individually,” he says, speaking of their producer and long time friend, Erol Alkan, “he’s never actually made an album before so he was super willing to try
out new things.” Blaine, who, it transpires, takes an interest with all things old school, then starts to talk, in depth, about the clinical appearance of 60s studios in photos. “They looked like fucking scientists in lab oats, you know, and everything was so precise and technical,” he says, getting aggravated, “I think the way we recorded our album is the exact opposite of that, it’s all about exploring how you can do things the wrong way.”
This, I think, is a quote which perfectly sums up the ethics of the Mystery Jets. This sense of unusual behaviour can also be seen in the fact that Blaine’s father, Henry Harrison, in
his late 50s, is one of the five band members. However, since late 2007, Henry’s absence at live shows has been duly noted by fans which has sparked rumours of his departure or,
even, his being fired from the group. “He’s still in the band,” clarifies his son, “I guess there’s a bit of confusion there because we never really put out a press statement or anything. I mention the fact that Henry’s not seen in recent promotional photos of the band, such as the one plastered outside the venue tonight. “The fact is the five of us write songs together and then, when we perform, it’s changed now, and I think it’s something
that’s been coming for a long time.” He pauses for a while as he finishes off his can of coke. “Henry always said that he knew that there would come a time that he would have to step back and let us, you know, take the reins. We’ve been in this band since we were
kids, with him, and I think you can only go so far having someone watching over you and guiding you. Sometimes you need to break away and he understands that.” I begin to question if this is the reason why the album sounds more mature than it’s predecessor ‘Making Dens’, with the lyrics being more about real-life, grown-up situations. “It’s funny you should say it’s a more mature album because in a way it shouldn’t be, because a lot of the lyrics on the first one were Henry’s and I didn’t have much input in it whereas on the new one, we took the reins more, like I say.” I remind him that the lyrics in ‘Making Dens’ were about more unrealistic, somewhat childish, subjects, whereas songs like ‘Veiled in Grey’ on Twenty One show another side to the band which see’s him come around. “I know what you mean, it’s not about, like, Smirnoff Ice and Carling-”
And transvestites like ‘Alas Agnes’ for example, “Yeah. You have got a point. I think on the first record it was more fantastical and we were more writing about made up things, or
memories, things like that.” ‘Veiled in Grey’, Blaine’s favourite track from Twenty One, becomes the focal point in the conversation for a bit longer. ’I’ll bet you wouldn’t believe me if I whispered in your ear and said/ I can see a pink elephant and it’s standing on the corner of the bed” coos Blaine in the chorus of the album’s most meaningful track. “It felt
quite satisfying when we nailed it in the studio because it’s about something that’s really hard to sing about, the idea of the pink elephant.” Clearly quite an intense song to Blaine, he struggles trying to explain the concept, the lyrics explain all, but I leave him talking, unaided, for the tape… “Say you and me were sitting here and there was something- There was an old woman over there, a bag lady- I’m trying to think of something weirder, like a hermaphrodite over there itching his balding head or something and it’s something that we both couldn’t talk about for whatever idea but we both knew was there. That’s a
really obvious example but, the song, in terms of what it talks about, it’s about things which, for one reason or another, are really hard to talk about and that’s just a weird thing to write a song about.” Getting a bit more into the swing of things, he starts to analyse
the lyrics. “In the first verse, there’s lyrics about someone who’s sister was thrown out of home when she became a bit of a punk and rebelled and these are all real people. There’s
another one about someone who had a miscarriage. Bringing these things up in a song can kind of sooth it a bit, you know? I think I’m quite proud of that one.” Then I go and touch a nerve asking how they react to being sung about. “I think there are a couple of people who don’t know it’s about them. One came up the other day ad it was a bit awkward but I don’t really want to talk about it.” This sensitivity is common through both Blaine’s music and personality which became clear when myself, and three other interviewers, arrived at the venue. Blaine was the one to look after everyone and make sure everyone got what they needed out of the afternoon. He even offered me a place on the guest list
for the gig that night before he had to hurry away for further sound check. Before he disappears until the show, I ask about the new video for single ‘Two Doors Down’. “It was really fun to make, I mean, I hope we haven’t gone over the line,” at which he point he laughs, “in fact I’m sure we have gone over the line.” The new video sees the band play dress up to perform in a cheesy pastiche of 80s music videos, “I think what’s funniest about a lot of those ‘80s videos is how serious they’re taking it. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the Man-eater video, Hall & Oates?” Before I reply, Blaine starts crooning “oh here she comes…”. This reiterates his vast musical knowledge and enjoyment of the subject, especially when he goes on to act out the video, “it’s just how
serious they’re taking it and it’s kind of like, overlaying shots of like a panther, walking through the woods…” As he pretends to be said panther he laughs and loses the end of the sentence. “I just hope we haven’t cheesed it up too much!” As I remind him this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, as ‘Two Doors Down’ is, personally, my video of the year so far,
“Yeah,” he agrees as he stands up to leave, “cheese is good!”
Starting...
Hi. I'm doing a Music Journalism course and have a livejournal, but I felt like coming across here too. goodtimes.
I'll be writing up my thought about new music, old music, live music and posting interviews and reviews.
enjoy. if you want.
X x X
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)