life_of_tom (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} life_of_tom) wrote,@ 2008-10-08 00:32:00 |
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His purple prose just gives him away...
Andy Yorke is one of the most overlooked and under-rated songwriters of his generation. His band, the Unbelievable Truth, were a big soundtrack to my university experience, and their last ever gig at Oxford's Zodiac Club was one of my favourite gigs ever, secondl only to perhaps that Glastonbury gig in 1997 where the headliners were Ra-... Oh, never mind.
That's been the problem for Andy, forever, really. Imagine that you were a fucking good chef, and your older brother was Gary Rhodes. You know what, you'd still be a fucking good chef and I would want to eat the food you cook.
So it is with Andy Yorke and his music, though it's sometimes hard to escape the ghost of his brother, even for an ardent fan. There's a certain familiar half-sneer, a weird shake of the head that makes you think of someone else. Of course, those mannerisms are as much own as they are anyone else's. It's just a question of familiarity, that's all.
Musically, though, he's unique. A pure, powerful voice, singing very direct and specific, but at the same time touchingly universal lyrics. He's always seemed to have the knack for describing situations, especially relationship situations, with an intimate eye that makes you think of your own experience, whilst clearly singing directly specifically about things which have happened to him.
His guitar playing is minimalistic and intricate, lots of finger-picking and strange intervals, and the backing that his band (including the drummer and bassist from the Unbelievable Truth, thrillingly!) provide are versatile and restrained. Case in point, Roy (Sabai's resident bass-playing genius) was very excited to notice that the bassist had amongst his set-up, a huge whopping great Distortion pedal, and kept waiting for the rock-out.
Never happened. What the bassist did do was a looping, echoing sustained tone throughout a whole song, adding depth and texture to the sound whilst crouched over his sound board. Then, when that was in place, he left it going, picked up a drumstick and started to tap out a simple beat on a cymbal, adding to the drummer's part perfectly.
The drummer too, is one of the best players I've ever seen, and it surprised me how much I try to play like him, still. He does things that I might one day manage to pull off on a kit, and he's also restrained enough to just simply play something that will work and offers a sound foundation to deliver the song.
The whole thing was presented with a modesty, and a simple humble charm- Andy Yorke seemed genuinely amazed that people like his music, and when I went up to him afterwards and made a tit of myself, calling him a god-like genius, and raving about how awesome he was, he just went 'oh, cheers, yes, it's nice to be called a god-like genius, I guess. thanks, yeah, oh yeah, he's a good drummer, yes. err, yeah, cheers. Glad you liked it.'
Nice bloke. Long may he continue to excel, in his own quiet way.
People down south, go see him! he's heading your way!
Andy Yorke is one of the most overlooked and under-rated songwriters of his generation. His band, the Unbelievable Truth, were a big soundtrack to my university experience, and their last ever gig at Oxford's Zodiac Club was one of my favourite gigs ever, secondl only to perhaps that Glastonbury gig in 1997 where the headliners were Ra-... Oh, never mind.
That's been the problem for Andy, forever, really. Imagine that you were a fucking good chef, and your older brother was Gary Rhodes. You know what, you'd still be a fucking good chef and I would want to eat the food you cook.
So it is with Andy Yorke and his music, though it's sometimes hard to escape the ghost of his brother, even for an ardent fan. There's a certain familiar half-sneer, a weird shake of the head that makes you think of someone else. Of course, those mannerisms are as much own as they are anyone else's. It's just a question of familiarity, that's all.
Musically, though, he's unique. A pure, powerful voice, singing very direct and specific, but at the same time touchingly universal lyrics. He's always seemed to have the knack for describing situations, especially relationship situations, with an intimate eye that makes you think of your own experience, whilst clearly singing directly specifically about things which have happened to him.
His guitar playing is minimalistic and intricate, lots of finger-picking and strange intervals, and the backing that his band (including the drummer and bassist from the Unbelievable Truth, thrillingly!) provide are versatile and restrained. Case in point, Roy (Sabai's resident bass-playing genius) was very excited to notice that the bassist had amongst his set-up, a huge whopping great Distortion pedal, and kept waiting for the rock-out.
Never happened. What the bassist did do was a looping, echoing sustained tone throughout a whole song, adding depth and texture to the sound whilst crouched over his sound board. Then, when that was in place, he left it going, picked up a drumstick and started to tap out a simple beat on a cymbal, adding to the drummer's part perfectly.
The drummer too, is one of the best players I've ever seen, and it surprised me how much I try to play like him, still. He does things that I might one day manage to pull off on a kit, and he's also restrained enough to just simply play something that will work and offers a sound foundation to deliver the song.
The whole thing was presented with a modesty, and a simple humble charm- Andy Yorke seemed genuinely amazed that people like his music, and when I went up to him afterwards and made a tit of myself, calling him a god-like genius, and raving about how awesome he was, he just went 'oh, cheers, yes, it's nice to be called a god-like genius, I guess. thanks, yeah, oh yeah, he's a good drummer, yes. err, yeah, cheers. Glad you liked it.'
Nice bloke. Long may he continue to excel, in his own quiet way.
People down south, go see him! he's heading your way!
