Patrick Wolf, KoKo, Camden.

I've done Ed Larrikin and The Pan I Am so it wouldn't be fair to neglect Ed's bezzi mate Patrick Wolf. Full of JD and in high spirits I made the journey to Camden to see everyones favourite eccentric...

(http://www.musosguide.com/)

He may be as camp as a row of tents but Patrick Wolf has got a bloody good set of pipes on him. Last night he was beautifully magnificent, with particular emphasis on beautifully, and swept through his rather short set with elegance and a lot of glitter...

The entry fee was a mere £5 and although I missed the support band, Micachu, I got my moneys worth for definite. Pat played a small selection from his previous albums along with some new off his forthcoming, which were upbeat and dancy compared with the earlier haunting melodies.

Patrick came across as simply charming, juxtoposed with the rumours earlier this month that he had fired and humiliated his drummer on stage??? Strange really, as he couldn't have been futher from that image last night. His band really accentuated the whole performance and were very, very talented to say the least.

The venue itself is so fitting for Patrick Wolf, a converted theatre, it has balconies swirling high above the stalls and matched his theatrical performance down to a tee. This performance wouldn't have been complete without a relatively odd costume, and we weren't disappointed....bondage braces and a shit load of glitter on his face. Great.

The crowd at KoKo reacted differently to how others do at a Patrick Wolf gig. It was pretty violent to say Wolf's main element is folk and was full of pretentious wankers with nothing to be pretentious about. That's London for ya kids.

After the set including classics such as The Libertine, Tristan and Bluebells and some new such as Battles (gunna be popular) ended, a shit dj from club NME took over and I danced away into the night to some really bad indie music. JD does miracles. Cracking night.

SoundArt & The Pan I Am

Right finalllllllllly got the first review for you!

SoundArt & The Pan I Am, Hoxton Hall, 21/01/09

'Black flakes fall in the old hall'

The crowd was a real eclectic mix of old and young, a lot of the usual vintage types you'd expect. The venue itself was a creepy disused theatre which has been transformed into a venue, although by transform i mean they haven't actually done anything to it except fitted it with some fancy audio equipment. There's a massive chandelier in the centre which dominates the space and adds to the all round eerie effect, this also looked good when casting a shadow on the backdrop of the stage complete with projections for both bands.

SoundArt were first on stage...a strange looking 3 piece (at a time on stage anyway) band: an electric cellist, a guitarist and a high pitched female singer. They used projections and dry ice to 'compliment' their performance however for me it was just a bit too experimental. This was especially apparent when for the song, 'Always fit your own mask first', a rather sweaty looking guy came out of the audience and took his place centre stage, dressed in some rather odd attire making him look like he'd just finished his day job at Barclays. Perhaps the final attempt at being totally 'out there' came when the guitarist played a solo using his teeth... Kind of uncomfortable to watch a guy clad in arm and knee pads playing his guitar with his teeth, it really didn't fit the 'artsy' genre of the band either.

So, for me i was sure the best was very much yet to come. The rest of the crowd seemed to enjoy Soundart, albeit without flinching during the entire set. Not a dance move in sight. Yet.

After a small break for cider and cigarettes, The Pan I Am were next up. Before the band took to the stage some creepy notes were played on an old Cassio and a recording of a woman describing the old hall in the nineteenth century with a Dick Van Dyke Cokaney accent was played. After a short description of ye olde London Town the women confessed that she was a ghost and was there to introduce the act The Pan I Am. It was kind of gimicky but also set the scene pretty nicely.

Ed Larrikin came on in his usual splendor, wearing an all in one boiler suite with talc in his floppy hair. His face also somewhat resembled the joker as he wore red lipstick and white face powder, his mouth agape as though he wore a Chelsea smile from ear to ear. The rest of the band looked pretty non discript except the guitarist who had a youthful Patrick Wolf look about him. Dry ice and projections again were used throughout the set making it hard to breath but pretty much worth it for the atmosphere created (although my atmosphere was sort of ruined by two American wankers in front of me saying that the british 'suck' for not dancing. If he hadn't had a bottle in his hand i would have gladly explained to him that no one was as pissed as him and his dull girlfriend and would they kindly shut the fuck up). Anyway aside from the disturbance, the painfully beatiful lyrics penned by Master Larrikin made for very easy listening. Although for 'The young bad thing' the use of a voice altering device made Ed's voice a bit too high pitched making it more comical than innocently child like. After a relatively short but energetic set black confetti floated down from the celing like elegant fallout in a lovely end to the show. A half hearted thumbs up from Ed Larrikin called for lights up without an encore, the crowd milled around for a little while longer before curfew at 11.

A thoroughly enjoyable and beautifully crafted gig with which there are few and they a far between. The atmosphere was particularly relaxed due to the capicity only being around 50, so everyone present had their own space to soak up the lyrical genious without getting a hair out of place. As for the venue, the Hoxton Hall is a definite haunting experience. All in all very worth £8.



Laura Collinson