2012 in Music

January
"Tidal" - Imogen Heap (x)
I listened to this on a beach on New Year's Eve last year, and the year before somewhere else, holding onto a Thai lantern full of wishes and letting it go as midnight struck. This song fills you with a kind of unexplainable intrinsic motivation, the rhythm to run and skip and make big decisions. Imogen Heap has stated it's about being on a beach and trying to get someone to have meaningless sex with you. It's also about spontaneity and what it is to be carefree, a beautiful arrangement of acoustic guitar, of flute and a keytar solo right in the middle.

February
"The One You Say Goodnight To" - Kina Grannis (x)
I saw Kina play in Manchester Academy, one of my old favourite venues, this month. "The One You Say Goodnight To" is, nothing original, a pop song about love, but like all of her music completely acoustic and stripped back.

March
"Give It All Back" - Noah and the Whale (x)
In March, my two best friends and I went to Manchester to see this band play. We couldn't get a train home until 5am so ended up all telling our parents we were at each other's houses, staying out in the city killing time for the whole night. It was fucking freezing and we stood outside until 2 waiting to meet the band because we had nothing else to do. When Charlie Fink, Tom Hobden, Michael Petulla, Fred Abbott and Urby came outside, all I had for them to sign was a copy of F. Scott Fitzgerald's This Side of Paradise which I had with me on the train, and it sits happily today on my bookshelf. That night was perfect, walking around the streets of Manchester in the cold, a taste of freedom, a little danger and a lot of dancing. This band really brought my friends and I together for a time and this song will always be one of those that did it the most, kooky keyboard patterns and electric guitars blended with lyrics that talk of lost youth, innocence and mistakes. I think I like Noah and the Whale so much because their music is completely authentic, but they don't deny cheesy outfits and gimmicks occasionally. They manage to mix meaningless fun and soul, something I think is very hit and miss.

April
"The Woods" - Bon Iver (x)
Bon Iver is incredible, the way Justin Vernon writes music is a complete recreation and reinvention of sound. "The Woods" is from their EP Blood Bank, and is an adventure, one line sung over and over again in the most melancholy way, playing with the roots of the melody and the harmonies around it each time. This record came to Ishgul with me, where I went with my family in the spring. The forest, the snow and the wooden lodges are the perfect backdrop to listen to Bon Iver.

May
"Rivers and Roads" - The Head and the Heart (x)
A band from Seattle, the Head and the Heart make music that is true and uncomplicated, the kind of gorgeous folk music that reflects family and community. They just bring it all back to home, acoustic guitars and perfect harmonies. I listened to it lots in the last few weeks of high school, but also I sang this song playing in a bar over the summer, splitting the audience into halves and asking them to sing in harmony, assigning each a part. It was one of those things that would have been really awkward if it messed up but just went perfectly, and I couldn't stop smiling.

June
"Fighting Arizona" - Bo Bruce (x)
Bo was a contestant on The Voice this year, a show I watched one night when I was babysitting because I didn't have another choice and ended up completley captivated by her voice, going against all of my 'reality-TV-is-stupid' moals. I bought her EP Search The Night at the start of June, and had this weekend in Hamburg literally a few hours after I got it, listened to it as I spent a lot of time cycling alone. I love every song on this album but this song was there one night in the early summer when everything was going wrong. I sat by the railway line at three o clock with a packet of cigarettes and this playing, just listening to the words because nothing else could be made sense of. "If you'll be my lost my found, reject the dark, reject your crown, I swear, you'll never go back down." Bo wrote "Fighting Arizona" about a friend she met in rehab, struggling against the contagious cycle of addiction and crime. I like the video of this song, too, because it is an honest representation, it just looks real, the cast in it aren't glossy-haired, shiny-toothed actors and actresses, no falsified beauty or glamourisation of the fact.

July
"Samson" - Regina Spektor (x)
I went to see Regina Spektor play in the most impromtu of situation, finding tickets on eBay literally a few hours before and hopping on a train to Manchester as quick as I could. She's amazing, every song of hers playful and magical, drifting between languages, between instrument  between topics of lyrics. But I love "Samson" because it's simple and peaceful and also there is so much to find in its words, a story based on the bible with the most beautiful of imagery.

August
"Charlie Brown" - Coldplay/Bo Bruce's cover (x)
I feel like including somebody's cover is cheating, but I love both versions of this song, admittedly not knowing it until when Bo Bruce sang it on Saturday night TV, the most magical moment. August was my first trip to London on my own, and this show changed my life. Through this artist I have made friends and been on adventures, and I will go on more, I know that, it's also the reason I started going out busking this summer, something else that changed my life. Her album is due for release next year, which I'm really excited about.
As for Coldplay, I've noticed this stigma around liking them (interestingly only with British people, French or American I've talked to don't seem to mind) and I think that, similarly to Ed Sheeran, they get a lot of credit for a genre that isn't exclusively there's. Having said that, "Mylo Xyloto" is a really special album and I think they've written some gorgeous songs, this being one of my favourites.

September
"You Won't Feel A Thing" - The Script (x)
Their third album "#3" came out this month, which I wrote about here at the time. There's a lot of good and bad about  The Script, but they were one of the first bands I got to like by myself, in 2008, aged twelve, and I got to rediscover them this year after Danny O'Donoghue's appearance on The Voice and discovered Science and Faith is such a smart, heartfilled and genuine pop-rock record. This is the first song on the album, about overcoming pain and trust.

October
"Wires" - Athlete (x)
I saw Athlete play this month literally ten minutes from my house, and heard "Wires" a couple of weeks before. It came at the perfect time, it related to something that was happening in my family. It still is, I still listen to it nearly every day. It absolutely breaks my heart and the music that was 2012 for me can't be talked about without mentioning the woman that sat next to me at the show that night and gave me the most comforting of smiles as I cried, make-up streaming down my face Joker-style. Joel Pott is an incredible songwriter, and this band so underrated.

November
"The Bed Song" - Amanda Palmer (x)
This is probably cheating because it was at the end of October I went to see Amanda Palmer play, but it doesn't matter, things don't always fit. This song is the saddest of stories, in 3/4, a series of snapshots of two people at different points in their lives as they drift away from each other.

December
"Lover of the Light" - Mumford and Sons (x)
I wrote about this really recently, but after a long wait I finally went to see Mumford and Sons play towards the end of this year. "Babel", their second album, was released this September, and it's everything it promised. This song is one of my favourites, that banjo line just gets me every time.

I had so much trouble choosing a song for each month this year, and forced myself to cut it down and not use more than one. So much music old and new has woven its way into my life this year, some that fits nicely with timings and events and other songs that are just always around. Ben Howard's "Promise" deserves a mention, "Cosmic Love" by Florence and the Machine, "The Boxer" by Simon and Garfunkel and "Good Ol' Days" by The Script, which has sort of become the song that gets played when I'm with my friends and we're drinking, as has, regrettably, Taylor Swift's "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together." I discovered Kate Bush this year and therefore have to include "Running Up That Hill", and also "And The Boys" by Angus and Julia Stone which I listened to on long drives across France with my exchange family over the summer. There will be others I've forgotten and want to kick myself when I realise.


I know these aren't all from this year, obviously. They were just in it a lot for me.

I'm going to finish with the song (below) from the night that changed my life this year, back in the summer, in London. Not going to lie, you can totally spot me dancing with tear-filled eyes in this video if you concentrate.

I am going away for a while and will be back January. Thanks for sticking around, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year xxxx


Bo Bruce - "Charlie Brown" - Live at The Garage, Islington



"We run riot -
We'll be glowing in the dark"

'After the show, you cannot sing wherever you want'

This is "Sing" - The Dresden Dolls

Whenever I walk away from a gig after it's over, I think about how these moments of euphoria all of the people in that room just experienced are falling apart, drifting away, and we have no choice but to welcome it. It's just crazy to me. We are surrounded by each other, the band have just left the stage, the last song is still bouncing around our heads and it is something so many want to cling on to. And then you're getting further and further away. Away from the stage, past the merch table, walking past all of these people in the car park or outside the venue that saw what you saw, felt what you felt, and getting further away from it, then getting in the car, on the train, on the bus, in the taxi to leave. They're getting further away. The cars on the road aren't all theirs. The people on the street aren't all them. And then you pass a certain point and they're gone.

The other night after I saw Florence, there were a carful of drunk guys singing "Dog Days Are Over" out of the windows, and so I joined in as I passed. And they slurred "woo"'s. And it felt like clinging on.

There is no option but to get off of the rollercoaster and stand on the ground and go back to real life. You can't live like this all the time.

These last couple of months and especially this last week have been surreal. Concert after concert, spending money I can't really afford to spend and it has been so perfect. Last Friday I finally went to see Mumford and Sons, which I wrote about, and then Monday was another show which I should have some kind of hopefully coherent write-up of tomorrow. The thing that happened today was something different, that I'm not allowed to talk about for a while, but it was unexpectedly amazing.

It is so weird to think that this is my life now, this is the thing that keeps me going. I'm probably annoying to be around now, most long winded conversations with me involve me telling an anecdote about a recent gig I went to. My room is covered in setlists, tickets, and you'll most likely find me wearing a paper venue bracelet I don't have the heart to take off yet.

I don't know if this is a good thing to hold on to, because it's such a fleeting source of happiness, it's not something you can rely on all of the time. It's a few months now, I think, until I'm going to a show again, and it's going to be strange and I'm going to miss it but there are going to be so many more.

I guess it's just strange returning to real life and all the things I have ignored. I'm not sure I'm ready to leave Wonderland.

Mumford and Sons - Friday 7th December 2012 - LG Arena, Birmingham

Mumford and Sons are considered one of the bands that the increasingly popular genre that so frequently gets referred to now as “nu-folk” stemmed from. They are Ben Lovett, Marcus Mumford, “Country” Winston and Ted Dwane and long with the likes of Noah and the Whale, Laura Marling and Johnny Flynn,  the four of them met amongst a circle of musicians in a London folk club that became a community and wrote together, played in each other's bands et cetera. Their name is chosen for its similarity to that of an old English family business.

They didn't stay small. Now, they win Grammys and fill arenas and perform in the White House.

I was late to the party with Mumford and Sons, buying "Sigh No More" in late 2010 but I fell in love with their music so easily, and consider them one of my favourite bands. Their first album is rousing folk-rock, revolutionising the banjo and the mandolin, glittering with lyrics that frequently reference Shakespearian literature and the bible. "Babel", their second release from September this year, follows the winning formula.

The LG Arena that night was so profoundly their's, decorated with trademark strings of fairy lights hanging over the crowd and the Gentlemen of the Road logo across the curtain, the four red flags that symbolise their new album hanging gratuitously above the stage.

Support kicked off with the unenthusiastic, witty and completely hilarious Piff the Magic Dragon, who entertained the crowd with magic tricks. He was followed by Post War Years, a band that brought together rock and electronica in a set that had the crowd dancing. The third of their opening bands were Dawes, a band from Los Angeles that carry reminders of both Dire Straits and Ryan Adams in their music, but you can also hear Mumford and Sons in them. After this, Piff the Magic Dragon came on for a second set, bringing with him this time a chihuahua.

At nine pm, the lights went down, to huge amounts of applause, and those first piercing and sharp chords of "Babel" shone out through the arena. And the curtains came down.

The crowd were open-hearted and loud, singing along with every word of "Babel". Seeing Marcus, Winston, Ben and Ted for those first few minutes was completely surreal, it never feels quite real when I see a band play for the first time, especially when their voices and their sound has been along with me every day for years before. They brought so much life and energy to the stage from those first few moments.

"I Will Wait" is all jangling guitar rhythms and rousing choruses; it had the whole crowd dancing, and there is something special about crying out "Raise my hands, paint my spirit gold!" aloud, along with a giant arena full of other humans, doing and feeling the same. For "Winter Winds", a song from the first album, Marcus took on an electric mandolin, and every moment of it reminds me of Christmas. "Below My Feet" is thoughtful and soft, with more of a focus on keyboard than most other songs, during which they sing together in perfect harmony. Those moments in which all of the instruments stop, leaving the room alone with the four guys and their voices, were some of the most beautiful of the night.

This was followed with "White Blank Page", beautifully bursting with passion and anger. Tonight, they said, was the third time only they had played "Hopeless Wanderer" to an audience but like everything else it was flawless, rousing feet to dance and warming hearts' cockles with contagious melodies and beautiful words as hands slammed violently and impossibly quickly across strings.

"So when your hope's on fire
But you know your desire
Don't hold a glass over the flame, don't let your heart grow cold,
I will call you by name, I will share your road."

This intense spell of energy was followed by "Timshel" - the song entitled after an old-English word meaning "thou mayest", a moment of quiet and beauty. It's a song that always reminds me of Christmas. "As brothers we will stand and we'll hold your hand." 

"Little Lion Man" was That One everyone knew the words to, the whole crowd chanting the chorus from the bottoms of their lungs. "Thistle and Weeds", strong and stormy and loud, blew over into "Ghosts That We Knew", the most tender of melodies, a comfort blanket of a song, sounding so fragile though it never could break.

"Lover of the Light" was one of the most beautiful moments of the night for me, and there's a particular banjo line in this one - you'll probably know which I mean - that tangles right through my heartstrings every time. During this song Marcus went over to drums.

Support band Dawes came back on to join them for "Awake My Soul", as did Piff the Magic Dragon who helpfully fed Winston Doritos. That song sounds like the walk you take that makes you think differently, or just like breathing in fresh air. "Roll Away Your Stone" is playful and loud and full of life, has your feet stomping. "Whispers in the Dark" is romantic and swings between the loud and the quiet.

I was so pleased that they played "Dust Bowl Dance", a song different to all of their others, it is a ballad in the traditional sense that it tells a story. It is dark, growing in pace, lyrics that talk of betrayal and, most of all, of revenge, complete proof that folk music does indeed rock out a lot.

They left, and then, for encores, emerged on a smaller stage right in the middle of the crowd, just the four of them crowded around one acoustic guitar. They sang "Where Are You Now?" in gorgeous four part harmony, the tale of someone lost without a trace. This moment of peace and quiet continued with "Reminder", before the band headed back to the main stage and played "The Cave", a song that's become an absolute anthem. It was a moment of complete communion, and assured me however big this band gets, however big venues they are playing, it does not mean there will be distance. Where I was that night, squashed up in the front row, the room felt tiny and everyone close by.

They brought Dawes back on for the last song, a cover of the Beatles' "With A Little Help from My Friends" which was both brilliant and hilarious, Ted and Winston leaning towards the mic in unison to sing backing vocals and Marcus and Dawes' vocalist both singing lead.

Mumford and Sons had as much heart and enthusiasm in the huge LG Arena than they would have playing in a tiny venue where everyone was quiet or a pub where nobody would listen, I'm sure, because you can tell so easily that they just love doing this. They breathe life into their music, they stick with their roots and explore at the same time, and I don't think this is going to change, however "mainstream" or not they are considered. The idea of "Mumford and Sons" as an old English family business completely defines and influences their music, carrying all the values of something shared through love, pride and community. 

***
A Really Slushy Note:
This took two days to make myself write because I have these childish feelings of not wanting it to be over, wanting to cling on in every way possible and blogging about a concert is always sort of like the last step in the process for me. I've loved Mumford and Sons for two years and during this time I have had a lot of almosts in terms of getting to their shows and then being disappointed. When I was fourteen one of my friends went and my mum didn't let me, because it was on a week day, it was too far away for me to go on my own, various other things that didn't seem sensible at the time and to be honest still don't really. Then earlier this year they were in England when I was in Hamburg, which was really frustrating. So it didn't seem real when we finally got tickets in October. It was in a lot of ways nothing like I thought. I wasn't there with the person I thought I'd be going with, and they played songs I didn't think they would, and vice versa didn't play songs I would sure would be on the set list. It didn't matter, it was really perfect.
I want there to be a neat way to conclude this but there isn't. I suppose what I'm saying is, that band you are waiting to see that you listen to every day, it is so worth it to keep trying. Even if you live on a tiny goat farm somewhere and you need to travel, or it means you have to cut back on spending on other things for a while.
It is worth it. Honest.

I hope you're all well. I'll be back really soon.
Sincerely, with post-gig depression and a heavy heart,

Lizzie xxxxxxxxxx