NME Awards tour - Two Door Cinema Club, Metronomy, Tribes and Azealia Banks @ Cardiff Student Union

This was a very good night. However, there isn't really much to say about these artists that are reasonably established and will be going around the country. There is enough for a small ramble, although you will soon see where my focus lies...

First of all, Azealia Banks was excessively exuberant. It made it impossible not to enjoy her and, although she seemed to be spouting mostly gibberish, the performance was fun and her command of the crowd was commendable. Even when nothing worked she was able to carry on with only her voice and lost no momentum whatsoever.

Tribes were standard. There are a lot of bands like them at the moment but they played well enough. Catchy rock stuff that everyone seemed to enjoy.

Metronomy were fucking incredible. Excuse my language but it is hard to get across to you just how brilliant their performance was. There is absolutely no justification for NME putting Two Door Cinema Club as headliners over them. No justification at all. First of all, Metronomy came out with what is probably the album of the year last year. Two Door Cinema Club did not come out with an album last year. AND NME themselves called 'The English Riviera' "brilliant", "expansive" and "visionary" - awarding it two more points (out of ten) than 'Tourist History'.

As for the actual performance - Metronomy propelled each song into a divinely sublime version of the album track. Even the slower or subdued examples like 'She Wants' and 'Loving Arm' were catapulted into overwhelmingly electric dance tracks. The crowd exploded with the introduction of material from 'Nights Out' halfway through the set. All the while Gbenga Adelekan put in a performance on the bass guitar that was so unerringly astounding I honestly do not think that there is a better bass player in the world

Two Door Cinema Club were solid performers - as ever. Their music is extremely adequate and easy to enjoy live. New stuff coming out this year sounds pretty much the same as the other stuff. It was, however, quite funny to hear people realising that chanting their name for an encore was quite awkward.

Errors with Remember Remember and Tom Rogerson @ Clwb Ifor Bach

Imagine you are out with friends at an open mic night. The stage is oddly neglected with a keyboard pushed out in front of a cacophony of instruments. Eventually one man sits down at the piano. With eyes shut and hands jabbing at keys with more random than rhythm. An anguished moan periodically erupts as his head thrashes back and forth, up and down. Well that is pretty much most of Tom Rogerson's set. And it was somehow beautiful. 

Most of the set was one long, disjointed serenade as he channelled the organist from a space church. There was no doubt that this was the keyboardist from Three Trapped Tigers. There was plenty of the I-don't-remember-this-tune-but-I-remember-the-vibe feeling typical of their sets as their songs, stripped of everything but keyboard and an almost scream, played out in front of the growing crowd trying to figure out how they were supposed to slightly move to this music. 

The seven piece outfit Remember Remember followed to provide some appreciated depth and continuing a theme of music which doesn't stop climbing. They even had a saxophone (which is major plus points for me) which was used expertly, avoiding the trap of commanding too much attention it worked its magic in the background. The background of the music I mean, it was actually situated quite close to the front of the stage. Perhaps it could be said that their second song Ocean Potion plagiarised a Fleet Foxes instrumental. On the other hand, it could also be said that that song was utterly spectacular. As their set progressed, more stand out beats surfaced and proved that even with seven members mixing up instruments - with toys sometimes - their cohesion and assured sound triumphed. Even when they, in my opinion, risked guitar overload they pulled it off excellently, drawing everyone into the rich denseness of the music. 

Within moments of their arrival, Errors had created a glorious music tsunami crashing into everyone's faces. It gushed. Vocals twisted themselves around complicated yet single-minded notes, stopping at exquisite hooks and bumpy, unstoppable beats. All the time layered on top of a beautiful back-drop of slow climbs and breaking waves. The two Scottish bands of Remember Remember and Errors brought all encompassing, ethereal  electro math rock in contradiction to the wannabe isolationist wonderings of their northern nation. Unstoppably grand.

Tracks from Come Down With Me stood out as great impact pieces but the new stuff from Have Some Faith In Magic was much less instant gratification and much more long term satisfaction. If it seemed to lack force in places it was only because of its unfamiliarity - it was only released a couple of weeks ago. Needless to say, everyone was convinced by the end. 

The entire set sounded much bigger than the slightness of the spectacle on stage, and also sounded pretty good echoed through legs (as I bent down to get my drink). There were undertones of LCD Soundsystem, which would be a terrific indicator given that we need a replacement for them. Having seen Errors 18 months ago I can say that they are progressing with vigour and should they continue, they will turn their excellent sound into a magnificent and unstoppable force. 

Thomas Truax with Inconsiderate Parking and Alan Coles @ 10 Feet Tall

I do not think that I have ever been to an evening of bands without finding at least one individual or group who has drawn from me harsh criticism. With this in mind, try to understand the magnitude of February 8th, 2012 - the night where I enjoyed every single performer. It's a big deal, honest. 

Alan Coles opened, standing there with his guitar and a ukulele on the floor, beckoning the 15 or so attendees that had arrived by half past eight. He was a somewhat apologetic speaker, explaining his presence with the statement that he is a "songwriter, who can only get his songs heard by playing them live". The only real explanation that was needed was for him to play his guitar. Foregoing the impression that he might be more comfortable playing for disinterested drinkers in a village pub, he produced compelling solo music which advanced with surprising complexity and an excitement that one man and a guitar does not normally warrant. This is not the singer-songwriter meaningless faff of today's Ed Sheerans and James Morrisons. Alan Coles' narrative excelled with his guitaring and although the ukulele based work lacked a little of the engaging spirit of the rest, he played through an admirable and interesting set. 

Then came Inconsiderate Parking, three young lads with a band name adored by the neurotic driver in me. The ukulele returned, with the energy of obvious youth but the maturity of the performance was shocking. The boys played with excellent harmony and understanding which might have seemed impossible in the face the frantic nature of their efforts. They were funny too, and although they, like the rest of the acts, might not have a sound that will ever attract a large audience, they continued strongly in the personal, fun and fascinating sound of the evening. 

The first glimpse of the main attraction was a spindly spectre fiddling with half a bike and a tiny drum at the front of the stage. It was weird - a feeling which quickly became the focus of the evening. Well, that along with hilarious, brilliance and stunning music. From the outset of his set, Thomas Truax seemed like a bubbling pot of untapped genius. Except that someone had just tapped him all over 10 Feet Tall. It was incredible, I was completely blown away with the musical intelligence present in even the simplest song and the utter hilarity of the whole thing. Easily funnier than any stand up I have seen and accompanied by deep, beautiful, entertaining, dance-y, bizarre and transcendental tunes in equal measure. Mr. Truax's smarts were displayed with his junkyard band of Mother Superior (the aforementioned drum-bike), the Hornicator (indescribable really), a bongo-tube thing, the ring on his finger, strings draped from the ceiling for plucking and a spotlight-emitting electric guitar. He traipsed around the stage effortlessly tapping out rhythm loops before heading into the audience, then into the stairwell, then outside, then back to the stage to get tangled in wires whilst relentlessly pressing onwards. An incredible sight, sound and experience. 

Each song was a self contained trip for the stone cold sober, blowing all that came before and after out of consideration, and I cannot claim with 100% certainty that I wasn't having some vivid hallucination.