Category: Concert Reviews

words: Paulo Carmona (freely translated by Raquel Pinheiro); photos: Telma Mota

As an introduction, to say that Calexico are indie folk or any other genre is too reductive. outro género qualquer é muito redutor. Extremely reductive I would say.

The band dreamed and conceived by Joey Burns (guitar/vocals) and John Convertino (drums) had us used to always expect something high quality and very “caliente” given their unique and specific musical idiosyncrasies ipor força das suas idiossincrasias The bar was set very high from the start. Therefore, on the 12th of October I went to Casa da Música for the celebration of the so called musical styles fusion. My expectations were fully fulfilled.

Calexico presented themselves at their best and maximum strength. If something can be called a remarkable performance theirs was it. Calexico started more quietly with Sunken, Waltz followed by Quattro and Black Heart, then, drove into apotheosis and there they stayed. Joey Burns is an affabe, kind communicator. An experienced, playful entertainer. He does no shy to praise Porto and its people, its generosity (nothing we didn’t knew). Joye’s folk guitar is called Amália Rodrigues avd he thanked the country its musical legacy. He could see himself spending the rest of his life here.

Almost always with seven musicians on stage, between drums, bass, guitars, accordion, brass, keyboards and xylophone it was an endless superior quality orchestral music.By Attack El Robot joy and exuberance hit the room.There was shouting, Mexican like whistles and happiness and fiesta all over Dub latina, Alone Again or Guero Canedo, Crumble and No Doze and it was hit the gas pedal from then onwards. Tequila Sunrise for everyone. In Victor Jara’s Hands his relevance to music and his ever lasting memory were mentioned. It was pretty..

There was time and availability for everything. Covers and shades of Joy Division , Manu Chao , Buenavista Social Club, clubbing e jazz. In conclusion: to do all this with such quality is not for everyon. It is for banda such as Calexico. It is for those that know. If there was a place opened that late I could had bought a sombrero and a poncho. Viva la música.

words: Marcos Leal (freely translated by Raquel Pinheiro); photos: Telma Mota

Memorials presented themselves on a Thursday night at Maus Hábitos, Porto. A band that, from two soundtracks challenge Tramps! and Woman Against The Bomb was put together by Electralane’sc singer, guitarist, saxophonist Verity Susman and saxofonista and guitarist Matthew Simms, from WIRE’s late line-up, among other projects running from It Hugs Back dream pop to Better Corners’s noise. . A multi layered musician mirrored in Memorials’ music, that splits himself between handling several instruments, pedals and other sound making mechanisms.

The concert begun with both members behind their musical paraphernalia. Verity, on the left, behind the keyboards and pedals, with the sax by her side. Matthew, on the right,, on the drum kit with laptop, loopstations, anogue tape machine, framed by a guitar and assorted connect pedals. The visual projection already creating the visual ambient to the music to follow. Colourful images of varied hues, misshapen, in repetitive movements. A certain mix of Pollock and Van Gogh.Had already listened to Memorials two albums I was curious how the duo’s performance would unfold.Which turned out the way indicated on the records. A sound exploration through different times of assorted psychedelic sounds, at a time more organic, at a time more electronic. A variety of compositions, some more classic, some more modernist, that seemed to travel in time between the 1970’s and the 1980’s.. Kraut, drone, psychedelia, even indie, were present highlighting the duo’s exploratory side.

With hair and dress leaning towards the 1060’s, Verity Susman represented well the retro-futuristic sound of the band, her voice reminding singers of thar era. Mathew Simms, with his thick, long hair, impressed by how skillfully he took turns between the several instruments and mechanisms, reproducing a range of sounds, loops, and melodies that created the several layers of what was being played. But for a small issue with a pedal, the performance wax fluid, with the audience, a bit shy, showing a good reception to the music. By the end, Memorials asked the audience if it wanted more music to which said audience replied yes with some dancing in a cheerful concert finale.

words: Neno Costa (freely translated by Raquel Pinheiro); photos: Neno Costa

The cozy space of Hard Rock Cafe, in Porto was the stage for Alain Johannes’s acoustic concert. Johannes presented music from throughout his career, during which he was associated with the likes, to name a few os his creative partners, of Mark Lanegan, Chris Cornell, PJ Harvey, Dave Grohl or Josh Homme. Alain Johannes shared music from his reportoire, in an intimate ambient with the cumplicity of the audience.

Equipped with three acoustic guitars, he virtuously extracted the most appropriated sound in a blues-folk-rock mode, garnishing his compelling voice, capable of tamming a rattlesnake. Hope and a certain quiet redemption resonates in Alain’s melodies. We were invited into an existential pilgrimage, in a desert landscape with unlikely flowers.Return To You (Spark, 2010), Kaleidoscope (Fragments And Wholes, Vol. 1, 2014), Free (Hum, 2020) or Hanging Tree (a song composed in partnership with Josh Homme, Mark Lanegan and Nick Oliveri) where some of the twenty songs played that were well worth the pilgrimage.

words: Paulo Carmona (freely translated by Raquel Pinheiro; photos: Paulo Carmona

I begin with the final score:Teenage Fanclub: 19 “I’m too old for” : 0At the first chord, the last ones started already defeated. Not that it matters, but age has its most damaging downside in the absurd conformism that the lesson is learned and let’s just go there rehearsal in front of a bunch of unknown people, familiar with us and our ways. Not at all! Not at all! The 19 songs on the setlist was perfectly and flawless spun out and no pass was missed. They’re, without doub, life lived gentlemen, but the insolent youth of their songs goes into their guts to drink the memories of sonic youth and spill them out.

We, the lucky ones (lucky bastards) that dared out on a Tuesday evening to go Hard Club to see these comrades, got a shot (no counter indications) of joy, sunny disposition, affection and lots of humour. Super fun, in fact. Teenage Fan Club opened with Home, About You, Foreign Land and Endeless Arcade in great rhythm and strength among energetic, but melodic guitars, drums with a bass, tall snare drum, that never snaps l, closed upon itself with a, by the way a very well played, bass guitar as company Here and there, a fork guitar shows up, a majestic alto sax, rocking keyboard always in the back and a cute xylophone that gracefulku turned up. As an homage, I highlight the brilliantly tinned backing vocals and vocals that are the big weapon of this a LA carte indie-alternative rock’n’roll band.

Alcoholiday, See the light, I Felt a Light on, Falling Into The Sun were also served with an excellent inter-guitar game; Your Love is The Place, Everything is Falling Apart, What You Do To Me, It’s a Bad World with the wah-wah pedal thundering in, doing wonders.

While Normam Blake takes his time and tunes his guitar, the band chooses to play clean, improve jazz to which, with humour Norman replies “that is a disguised way of pressuring a guy”, laughs Seguem-se I don’t Want Control Of You, I’m in Love, My Uptight Life and The Concept (I know, I’m pretty good nicking setlists) follow. They say farewell to a pre-announced encore. They return with three more songs: Tired Of Being Alone, Back To The Light and end rather well with Eveything Flows. I’ve always, liked Scottish Highlanders, no exception here.The week starts flowing much better with help from this lads. I jump on my motorbike and happily ride back home.

words: Neno Costa (freely translated by Raquel Pinheiro); photo: Neno Costa

Sir Richard Bishop, discreet music legend and Sun City Girls (1979-2007) founder was a refreshing appearance at Hard Club. For about an hour, Bishop granted the audience with a dyed and preservers free performance, during which, bend over his electric guitar, with elegant virtuousism he painted wide and poetically beautiful sound landscapes.

Dislocated from a certain musical convencionalism anchored in a black (blues) and white (country) dialetic Sir Richard Bishop interpreted works imbued with varied inheritances – from folk to flameng – that truly shape Uncle Sam’s country, offering an unforgettable moment to all that had the previledge of listening to him.

Adventuring Into the Unknown

words: Raquel Pinheiro; photos: Telma Mota

Nothing like going blind and curious into a concert and leave fullfilled. Telma and I wanted to check Soccorro’s, a recent record shop in Porto, new concert room. And so we did.

Cavala, a five piece from Porto, are the band to watch and go to see if they play near you. Renovating elements from Portuguese like Mlef If Dada or Pop Dell’Arte coupled with a pop-punk-post punk approach, Madlen Pinto (vocals, guitar and a bit of everything), Maria Cabral (bass, vocals), Helena Carneiro (drums), Inês Barbosa (guitar, vocals, kora, flute) and Mariana Amorim (melodica, vocals, ukulele, fife) bring us a joyous musical and vocal set, even when their voices speak of less sunnier issues.

Also from Porto, Ideal Victim – Mariana (vocals), Bruno Esteves (guitar), Jimmy (drums), Alex Vieira (bass) – have tints of a blast from 80s American hardcore, transposed for and enriched for today, in a venue, in Porto. Mariana is a force of nature, on stage, jumping to the middle of the audience, screaming, tantalizing. Ideal Victim are loud, very loud, energetic, in your face. Pure raw power.

From Melbourne, Australia, come Pinch Points. Acacia (bass, vocals), Adam (guitar, vocals)), Isabella (drums, vocals), Jordan (guitar, vocals) dressed in their shorts and shirt band outfit bring a fun, groovy, laid-back punk-post-punk performance that permeates the thirteen songs played. Theirs is an infectious sunny disposition to Pinch Points. A perfect match to a hot, sun blazing, Sunday afternoon.

Even Experimentalists Dance!

words: Raquel Pinheiro; photos: Telma Mota

First and foremost, our heartfelt apologies to Pavarotti III for have missed the performance. Pavarotti III is Sonoscopia’s canary and was going to present festival goes with glorious bird singing in the garden. We also didn’t saw Em Charme and Tren Go! Sound System.

We arrived on time to seat on the floor of the concert room and catch Vincent Martial playing his flute in the concert room of Summer’s smallest festival. Only 99 people, and one canary, allowed. Maltial’s flute is used in a mix of contemporary language with traits of ancient sounds. A nice beginning of our musical day.

Next was Farida Amadou, on the backyard stage, using her bass, pedals, drum sticks, mallets, to create for expressing something that, in a way, is lost on the listener. Why? It is a very personal use and interpretation of what, from this side, seem to be ways of addressing feelings, emotions, world events.background. If that is so, only Farida can answer.

And now we’re on one of the most upbeat, funny, entertaining gigs ever: Manu Louis, with his guitar, synth, electronics, voice combo of happiness, wrapped in a white bathrobe, playing outside and inside Sonoscopia’s bathroom, to which he would retreat now and then, leaving us with his silhouette and voice. What a riot! So much joy, dancing and humour! Such great songs. A much needed counterpoint to the sombreness and seriousness and more left field experimentalism from before, perfect for a hot, sunny, late Summer afternoon.

Harrga (Dali de St. Paul and Miguel Prado, here with Dali only) follows on the concert room. Harrga is harsh. Loud. Almost too extreme, too too much for the space where the performance happens. There is a message being tried to be brought across. An angry, in extremis one, sort of lost. Maybe the idea is to stir up some action in the audience? The distorted, loud vocals and sounds do not allow to comprehend much of what is being shouted. Besides we’re seat on the floor, not pogoing. Then, the musical landscape changes, to an almost church like music level. The words become more perceptible, but still elude.

Dinner break. The communal meal is taken in the patio and garden, encompassed by nightfall.

Back inside we’re in the hands, and sounds, of percussionist Camille Émaille. There is a labour of love here. A meticulous, affable, strong, unxepected way of working with the various percussive instruments. We’re entering the domain of transcendence. Or so it seemed as it was, or looked like it, cut short. Were did time went? If flew by.

Time to go rest on a chair at the bar-gear room and marvel at the boxes with extraordinary, ordinary, objects. Until a last return to the concert room for Los Caballos de Dusseldorf light, image and sound show.

Los Caballos de Dusseldorf build their own funny instruments, the doorags (named after Arizona’s lo-fi blues duo Doo Rag) from toys and other devices which circuits’ are modified. Circuity bending is an art form and Los Caballos de Dusseldorf mastered it with a childlike musicality that matches their way of dress, their concept, wrapped in curious and appealing visuals.

Another rest, another marvel at the gear boxes at the bar-gear room.

The final act is in the garden. Drummer and percussionist Steve Hubback, under the lit trees, takes us further into the transcendent trip started by Camille Émaille. Most of us are in the dark, on the adjacent yard, separated from the “stage” by a low, thin wall that allows to see, or almost see, what is being played. What is being played is much more to be felt than to be seen. At least, that is how it was for me.

At a point I opened my eyes and though four drumsticks? Two at a hand? Nope, turns out it were five drumsticks. Don’t ask me how. Steve holds the answer. I can tell it each time Steve does something different and there is no point going to see him thinking it may be this or that or those. Oh, right, back to the transcendence, which is where I was when Steve’s performance ended. It was shamanic, otherworldly. A Summer’s night dream and elation.

words: Marcos Leal (freely translated by Raquel Pinheiro); photos: Marcos Leal

Londoners Alaskalaska debuted in Portugal last Saturday Night in a single date on Hard Club, in Porto.

The wait for the concert, scheduled for 9:30pm, but starting about10pm with an unannounced opening act, was spent between drinks, cigarettes and conversation. As a warm-up, Black Sombrero, from Gaia, played some songs characterized by a more direct rock sound in the vein of Queens of the Stone Age or Foo Fighters. They were well received by the audience that made them feel welcome, despite some errors in the execution of the songs, taken with ease.

One more cigarette and a drink while waiting for Alaskalaska. The quintet, formerly a sextet presented their album Still Life (2022) opening with Growing Up Pains (Unni’s Song). The song, with a beginning and slow progression served as a good introduction for what was to follow. Alaskalaska has members with a background in pop and jazz and their sound comes from this combination of different influences described by themselves “art dream-pop”. From what war heard, they’re not far from the description.

The concert was mild, but engaging in its jazz-infused pop and R&B touches, never boring, never predictable. Without major interruptions or interactions with the audience Alaskalaska maintained a great performance, proving to be very good live. In the short interventions between songs, due to the declared shyness of vocalist Lucinda whose father said he was Portuguese, she said she was very happy to play for the first time in Porto and to thank the way the whole band was received by the concert promoter.

After a setlist includedind songs from their two original albums in which main singles, such as Rise And Shine and Monster and Pressure could not be left out, Lucinda announces the last song of the night, Still Life, the title track of their new album. An announcement that provoked a reaction from the public signalling they wanted more.

Still Life, a song that made those attending dance, was the farewell to Porto’s audience. As Lucinda had said, “was a good one”.

Lucinda, John-Duarte, Fraser Rieley and Co., left under claps from an audience waiting a never happened encore.

words: Neno Costa (freely translated by Raquel Pinheiro); photos: Telma Mota

According to Cicero’s expression that “men are like wines, age souring the bad, and bettering the good” applies with full propriety to the Melvins, as attested by their stopover in Porto, as part of the 40th Anniversary Tour. It is not the first time that the North American trio has called the turning of the hourglass to christen their tours; the 25 and 30 years of career deserve similar reference, suggesting a balance that, far from throwing them into any nostalgic bedlam, underlines the freshness displayed on stage and the musical richness of an unavoidable legacy that contaminated much of the most interesting that sprouted in the metallic territories and their substitutes, from Nirvana to Tool, through Soundgarden and Mike Patton.

With the main room of Hard Club crowded with a generous generational range of attentive ears, a far from innocent Take On Me” by A-Ah (1985) was heard as an introduction to a pedagogical and electrifying journey that revisiting albums such as the highly acclaimed Bullhead (1991), Houdini (1993) or (A)Senile Animal (2006), among other gems of their vast career. Like a magician of the decibels, Buzz Osborne wore his mystical robe in a pervasive performance, with voice and guitar in flawless symbiosis, with the melodic thunder of the prodigious accomplice of the early hours, drummer Dale Crover and the most recent acquisition (2015) by the fun and talented bassist Steven McDonald. The Melvins’ generous and well-articulated menu made the walls of a space that asked for expansion sweat in the face of the overflowing energy of an irreproachable performance that did not disappoint the audience that, by the end of the evening, only carried a single frustration, the price of the beer.