Possibly the greatest show on earth... The Junipers and John Stammers - Live! Tonight!
If you're in Manchester tonight, better get yourself down to the greatest show on Earth. Seriously. At Lee Gorton's (of Alfie fame) Down At The Redbricks night, tonight, you'll get the incredible sunshine popsike of The Junipers, promoting their new 'Cut Your Key' album (the album of 2008), as well as the pastoral jazz-folk of John Stammers, playing with full band (more here).
It starts at 8pm and Manchester's gorgeous and newest venue, The Deaf Institute on Grosvenor Street. [pic: Bob Stuart]




I don't know a damn thing about Rusty Springfield and their new LP, 'Please Don't Dance Whilst Holding Drinks' isn't telling me much more apart from the fact that they've clearly got a sense of humour (I mean, come on, look at that sleeve) and that the band members are called Wolfman, Birdie and The Butcher. So what's in store?
I'm pretty sure that, as an outfit, Howl Griff are pretty sick of talking about beekeeping, Los Galacticos, Super Furry Animals and jus'whatisthatonthecover? Well, to get it out of the way, Howl Griff is headed by a Welsh singing beekeeper, the band are from all over the place (both in geography and mental wellbeing) and... well... they don't know for sure what the beast on the cover is... but he comes in peace, so that'll do for now.
Keef.
Hey kids! Do you like Captain Beefheart, Howlin' Wolf, The 13th Floor Elevators and cult 90s RnB / Garage legends The Stairs? Can you see yourself digging a demented shamanistic frontman wigging out like a deep South preacher who's necked all the Communion wine? Are you hep to sea-shanty 'woah-woah' backing vox, horny harmonica howlin' and bad-ass heavy-blues stompolla? Do you like bands from Liverpool who sound exactly like they come from Liverpool in the best possible way? Well, if your answer to some of those questions was "Yeah, but don't pigeon hole me dude, I'm into all sortsa stuff, like I'm really feeling the post-Crunk scene at the moment," then you might wanna check out the myspace of all hollerin', all stompin' Merseyside acid-blues outfit 
It's easy to fall for the ol' 'this band makes music from a weird place so it must be slightly better than a band that makes weird music from Chorley' rule. This is why people like Andy Votel hang around other people's record boxes whilst they're trying to DJ with little notepads, looking at all the Turk LPs you gambled on. So if we all like taking a chance on Lebanese garage from the 60s and 70s... how about taking a punt on an Israeli acid-folk outfit that are right here and now?
Jus' look at that cover man. One peek at that saucy set up and you know you're in trouble with this group. I mean... c'mon... ain't that a bit sexist? It's jus' short of having a glove forced in her face! Lissen you. Shut-up. The Surgens are bringing sexy back... and it doesn't mean a bronze woman in a bikini singin' about earning her own... this is four blokes from whocares? bringing back good wholesome sleaze! And besides... it can't be sexist... the woman adorning the cover of Misadventures of a Broken Man could clearly kick all of our arses at the same time. The band even sing "a wicked girl will always shut the door on a nice boy like me..." Now scat.

I wasn't particularly fond of The La's. Fact is, I didn't really dig Cast. So why should I give a fuzz about John Power's solo stuff? I mean, c'mon! Well, I was as surprised as anyone when I found out that Mr Power was making some gloriously freaky bluesy psych which is straight outta Safe As Milksville!
When a band has a list of influences that include Bobbie Gentry, Mel Tormé, Booker T & The MGs, Jacques Dutronc, Nancy Sinatra, Norman Jay MBE, Sammy Davis Jr and The Temptations, you've godda wonder what the hell you're gettin'. Well, that's the number that influences Friends of the Bride, who, for my money, should've included Scott Walker in there too. Friends of the Bride make their pop big. There's no two ways about it. This is pure undiluted pop music made for singing along to. Mebbe in the car. Or whilst doing the dishes.

Caught you lookin' at legs didn't I bucko? Well, stop yer dirty thoughts and start thinkin' more sleaze. Wha'? You're confusing me man! Don't worry. Woe betide a man who can't dig Walton Hesse. This buncha degenerate country kickers are rolling around the mud with the pigs and moonshine and (when the acid has worn off) they just about manage to stand for long enough to make an awesome refried country fuzz! 
What do you get if you cross Bob Dylan with Malta, Patsy Cline, Egypt, Billy Childish and Chatham in Kent? Normally you wouldn't end up with anything... but this experiment seemed to work with some gusto... as the result is the sublime Pete Molinari. 
Everyone in the world likes reggae right? If that's not strictly true, then every one in the world likes sixties and seventies roots and rocksteady... it's impossible NOT to like it. If you don't, then you don't have soul maaan. With that, it puzzles me why there aren't more new bands having a stab at making vintage (sounding) reggae. I mean... the basis of a roots track are a piece of piss aren't they? (probably not).
The best thing about garage nights is that they tend to feature some fuckin' great bands sandwiched between the sleazoid vinyl treats. Peterborough's hotspot, The Cockroach Club is no exception. Promising to bring the best in new and old garage and surf, not to mention psych, surf, rockabilly and "good old dirty rock 'n' roll", this promises to be one skuzzy night out.
Granted,
David Walker gazes into his crystal balls at the future of music - and picks out 10 certs for 2008. Now form an orderly queue at the bookies.
I've been cheated. It's nearly 2008 and I was promised robot maids and flying cars. Instead, I've got Girls Aloud and fucking Facebocked. Music hasn't made any leaps for a while either. 2007 saw people using The Clash and Joy Div as a template, and the last lot before this lot who said 'disco punk' were Duran Duran. So what has 2008 got in store?
All the way from Tacoma, The Drug Purse are making an unholy racket that cuts from JAMC sonic attacks to jangling garage stompers. In short, they're all-killer.
It's not often a band comes by, checkin' The Beatles as an influence... pre-Revolver. Yup. The twang and shake of Merseybeat is seldom heard through any kind of airwave, which is why The Fore as such a cracking band.
MySpace claims its new Earwig TV channel is 'set to be THE place to discover the next Kate Nash or Enter Shikari'. But they miss one obvious point - it is us the user that made those acts, not a committee of so-called experts.
This is a band you wanna be hanging around with. Four tough knife wielding chicks with riffs, Les Plastiscines sing songs about bikes, driving and probably roller-skating too. It's the unholy marriage of The Shangri-Las and The Ramones... they're battered heel of The New York Dolls minus The Stones influence and the dangling genitals. They'll kick your arse... only to pout and blow you a kiss.

Straight outta Noid, wherever the hell that is, I've had my third eye on these Heavy cats for some time now - y'know, on myface and stuff - and now they have a