¡Forward, Russia! @ Moor Music Festival 2008
By Kate Zezulka
The second day of Moor Festival and we are now fully equipped with the mandatory rain and mud. Squelching through mud traps and water logs would seem much less manageable if there wasn't the promise of exciting sets in each corner of the sludge-ridden field.
Over The Atlantic certainly don't make a chore out of dragging yourself out in the cold - in fact, their wholesome pop warmth more than compensates for this. The wistful vocal hooks and gently warping instrumental lines exude an almost safe lightness; although often creating an ambience big enough to fill the whole open sky above Addingham moorside, its slow-paced, serene nature is perhaps the ultimate in comforting domesticity. At times, its emphasis on the soft atmospherics is perhaps a little detrimental, and possibly is not best suited to the slightly hyped-up crowd, but even taking this into account their appearance is very much welcome and the set is still compelling.
Staying dry in the Moor Live tent, next act Leeds' Cowtown are here to provide a stark contrast. All bright primary colours and frantic musical attitude, they are deceptively chaotic. Behind functional, blunt melodies and the dominating screeching sound of the keys, nifty guitar moves, fast-fingered synth parts and strong, driving drums are masquerading as amateurish musical flukes. The overt eccentricity of Cowtown in itself is something to recommend them, but depths below the surface promise interest and nuances even if the joyful silliness wears off.
Not quite so with The Sugars' set. The image is arresting to say the least - I'm sure the 50s styled platinum blonde or greased back haired and monochrome clad image of the band constituted one of the weekend's most aesthetically striking aspects - and yet the bluesy vocals of both Greenaway and Bolton and the heavily reverbed and bigsby'd guitar don't always seem to reach the heights they could. It is occasionally a little too rough around the edges, although due slack must be given in light of the admission that they were too busy catching up on sleep to prepare a setlist, and the set's off-the-cuff character could simply be attributable to this.
And so time to trek onwards to the Earl Hickey Tent and catch some of Trio VD's set. The sharp accuracy and resourcefulness of musicianship above all deserve praise, and a Trio VD performance is nothing if not eye-widening. Its strident atonality certainly makes for a challenging listen and undoubtedly will only appeal to a niche audience, but if you can tune in to their free, improvised style, there's a whole wealth of intricacies and curiosities to be discovered. Don't let the jazz-standard connotations of improv mislead you, as there are enough furious crescendos and crushing instrumental work to put most metallers to shame.
The next port of call is The Hard-Time Orchestra, a must-hear for dedicated roots music and blues fans. The absence of The Hard-Time Orchestra's regular guitarist is managed remarkably well, with no apparent hitches throughout. They excel in all of the genres' staple characteristics, and their contribution is further enhanced by Nygård's potent vocals and Ormrod's multi-instrumentalist capabilities.
Esser is another acquired taste. The set is polished and both Esser and his band's on-stage energy assure an entertaining experience, although his eclectic mix of influences is sure to alienate some. The haphazard fusion of a pop-based, hook-centric sound with styles as diverse as hip-hop, samba and electro is, nonetheless, reasonably successful and does undeniably create an idiosyncratic outcome. Esser will likely be unavoidable on the radio and in trendier bars and clubs not long from now.
Pete Molinari is truly a Cash and Dylan disciple, something he openly pays tribute to by covering both of these artists. This alone will serve as enough fodder for any listener by which to either damn or commend Molinari. Of course, there are aspects of many other great folk and country artists (his unadorned acoustic guitar accompaniment owes a lot to the whole country music methodology, particularly the great Guthrie), but his voice tells more tales of hours spent listening to Dylan's raspy drawl and Cash's morose inflection than any other. Encouragingly, the original tunes in which he confidently stamps his own take on the genre are the best received in addition to being the most winning.
A 'Moor Fest Surprise' comes in the form of The Ryes this evening. It's buoyant brit-pop that shows a good understanding of the style's ethos and, while perhaps not being the most stimulating band of the day, they are straightforward, rollicking fun that warms the crowd up nicely.
This is the right moment, then, for headliners ¡Forward, Russia! to take to the Moor Live stage. They are here at this optimum moment largely due to a lucky fluke, as the arguably less apt headliners The Long Blondes were forced to pull out. It turns out as an unequivocal blessing: ¡Forward, Russia!'s performance this evening is perhaps one of their strongest I have witnessed. The swift tempo and feel changes are neater than ever, and the often beautifully melodic guitar and bass work is at its most razor-sharp. Material from "Life Processes" is now every bit as persuasive as tunes from the debut, and they seem to effortlessly whirl their way through a quite astounding fifty minutes.
¡Forward, Russia! have never been miserly over their live exuberance, but this evening frontman Tom Woodhead covers the synth with blood and is, in fact, slightly concerned that he may even have broken his nose - their sense of basic self-preservation is valiantly discarded in preference of a storming show.
A fittingly inspired finale to a great weekend at Moor Fest - even the rain was shouting in approval.
