Features

Well that was it folks, The Camden Crawl 2007 and a practically definitive list of who?s who in new music for the year ahead. Both days packed a seamless fuddle of brigaded rock music from all warps of establishment and genres into twenty odd venues across North London and allowed anarchy to ensue. Fuelled by beer and a will to take advantage of the sporadic gambles of live music, a few thousand people descended unto Camden on what was probably two of the hottest days of the year to devour every last dancefloor inch of subterranean rock 'n' roll.

THURSDAY 19TH

There was one band in particular that deserves these precious first words and it's the band we tried so ardently to make sure you all saw. We warned you that Foals would be raining sweat down on the dancefloor but to be honest we didn't really believe it would actually happen. The heaving sea of bodies under the uber-low roof of the normally middling NW1 turned the nightspot into a mini climate where the melting points of a few hundred people formed a moist film over the ceiling tiles that literally did drip down onto the heads of a crowd that for the most part enjoyed one of the best gig experiences of their lives. Foals are notorious for their lightning fast onslaught of seditious riffs and head-pounding drums, but when lead singer Yannis turns his back to the crowd inviting the audience to join him, the stage invasion that instantly, though hesitantly, commenced took this potentially volatile show into the atmosphere of truly legendary experiences. There were waves of disbelief and magnetic joy as swathes of fans and young believers mobbed the band as 'Balloons' and 'Astronauts And All' took control of the air and molested the ears of the apprehensive and highly appreciative spectators who in the post apocalyptic aftermath of the performance sat quietly shaking, wondering if this is what it was like at the birth of Joy Division.

After Foals, there's nothing else to do other than pick up the pieces of your life and try to continue, and luckily there was plenty more on offer on Thursday to help you through the worst of it. Elsewhere, the kitsch and often indulgent powerpop dance vibes of Calvin Harris was a surprising hit to the multitude that piled into see the Scottish music collective based on word of mouth alone and with an appointing performance set a standard for the festivals dance branch' a standard that The Whip were only too happy to contend. A slightly dirtier take on electric dance, The Whips mix of filthy bass lines and searing vocals had an instant impact on a mostly southern crowd that had yet to flavour this inspiringly northern and innovative take on an increasingly swamped genre. Their jerky and directionally potent stance was also adopted by new indie-pop upstart Jack Penate, a guy who's surname surpasses pronunciation, making his emergence at the Electric Ballroom the biggest surprise hit of the day. His Shakin' Stevens approach to guitar based music shouldn't work but thanks to an impressively sturdy and well carried deliverance, one that's beyond the preconceptions of what everybody else around is doing, seems to manifest itself as a unique way to perform songs that without this enigmatic release would fail to really push the walls of prospect.

The Electric Ballroom also saw modern guitar legends Ash make a post-Charlotte appearance to answer a few questions, like whether or not their absent member would burden their resonance. With delight we can say, with epic sized smiles of glee, that it didn't just refrain from being an issue, but by allowing the focus to fall on one front person, brought the whole show forward, driving their 90s power rock 'n' roll tunes through the roof of the massive underground venue. Though Penate pulled in an unexpectedly big crowd, Ash had the venue swelling to capacity and a worryingly expectant line of crawlers at the door itching that the one-in-one-out policy would allow them access to the band that had given them 'Burn Baby Burn' and 'Girl From Mars'. Though these songs, the bombarding hit parade of sing-a-longs, made the body of their enthusiastic set, it was the new Muse-like material that was possibly more exciting and dropped an end of night audience to their feet like rag dolls.

Other noteworthy and arguably superior feats came from the eccentric wonderment of Malcolm Middleton who also won the favour of NW1 earlier in the day, turning a heaving rabble into a sheathe of exuberance-mad funsters eager for what the shockingly unknown posse could spark off. His music isn't as catchy as most bands would thrive for but that's half the brilliance that Middleton endeavours to realize and it's his outrageously outgoing performing style that's made him something of an indie kids wet dream to behold. Across town Hot Club De Paris turned the workings of their spiky and excessive indie records into a sonic boom of assaulting guitars and honoured vocals that indiscriminately slapped around like a pair of old baseball boots in a tumble dryer. Their tracks are instantly accessible and openly mesmerising and although diversity isn't quite in their repertoire, energizingly fun soundtracks to your life are. 'sometimes it's better not to stick bits of each other in each other, for each other', is their message and with a harshly brilliant rendering of their reverberations you buy every word of their fast and often enthralling songs that are becoming a lot of people new favourite play things.

Thursday also found iLiKETRAiNS, Fear Of Flying and Cajun Dance Party host some impressively lairy dancehall parties that filled to brimming with beat-obsessed melody worshipers, head over heals in love with the fact all their favourite new bands were laid before them ready to be taken on, lived and cherished' and those that weren't would almost certainly be playing the following day.

FRIDAY 20TH

According to Kate Nash, Caroline's A Victim, but the only thing that seemed to have been debased on Friday was her usually fantastic indie anthem. She had a catching set dressing but beyond that there was little to holster the hesitantly un-raptured audience that failed to move towards her semi-Spektor vocals and pretty ordinary songs which compelled for a few seconds before falling apart at the seems. Her voice was on form, but her usual electro-funk delivery was ditched for a sombre and pointless puppet show display of her tracks, almost disgracing them and herself while putting virtually no effort into her performance. Utterly disappointing as this was, it was luckily followed straight up by the second-coming of Foals, not causing so much of a hullabaloo second time around but nonetheless a bravura evening treat, making us all forget about Nash.

Across town Alterkicks, the UKs applicant for 'bands that are as important as The Killers' launched into the bravado of 'Good Luck', a fable that did all Brandon should have done on 'sam's Town' but for some reason didn't. They've reinvented themselves afar from their former low-key approach and instead sparked an atmosphere not seen since The Maccabees started to come forward as the important leaders of new wave rock 'n' rollers. The enthusing guitars and vibrant drums made up for the fact we had to get a bus across town to see them, a fact that may have snarled their audience, but in no way affected their blissfully amazing performance. Alterkicks are certainly ones to watch over the next few months and thanks to an array of fresh tracks will hopefully live up to their potential expectations.

Tiny Dancers and New Young Pony Club took on the 'sound of the moment' and shivered it about a bit during the day but despite putting on fairly decent shows didn't leave much of an aftertaste, a feat still held by Foals from the day before' or maybe it was the dodgy fried chicken'' Almost nobody could compete with the granddaddy of this event though, the immortal Billy Bragg, a guy still as important today as he was when our parents listened to his urban folk marches about politics and London life. It seemed the whole world had packed into The Electric Ballroom but restrained themselves to an expectant and respectful silence as Bragg took us through the trails of his life's experience, paining insights to the meaning of his songs and entertaining with his usual witty banter that captivated a group of people that afterwards formed a positive-minded mob, wondering the streets later on in the day trying to put the world to right. His appearance ended with the punk national anthem, 'New England' and as a room fed the lines back to him in a sombre hum we all felt a little more inspired, a little more British and maybe just a little bit special.

Friday was bought and owned however by a completely different gig to the Thursday, as it was the endless genius of Eamon Hamilton' the bloke from British Sea Power that formed Brakes and imploded our minds last year with 'Beatific Visions'' that possessed The Underground and day 2. Arriving a little late and to the tune of 'Porcupine And Pineapple' the amazingly small grouped gig was nowt short of unforgettable to us straggling rockers. Performing Brakes' songs solo with just an acoustic guitar clutched to his chest, Hamilton's friendly show was attended by an adoring fan base that sang every lyric of his back-catalogue at him with a real demonstrative joy and fell close to almost crying during the haunting 'No Return'. The whole show was spent with members of the public wondering on stage - or perching on the side - and when his routine came to an end, after playing 'Comer, Comer, Full Stop' twice, he graciously invited everybody to join him, gather round and sing along to 'Jackson'' thus sealing this in that mental 'forever moments' vault. So inspirational was it, being practically invited into the living room of a real musical genius, we forgot all about Foals for just a few seconds allowing ourselves to think about setting ourselves on fire with the flame of this guys heart.

Onwards to The Charlatans, a gig that hinged around 'The Only One I know', and outwards to civilisation' a little battered, a little beaten' but completely shook up by the proposed soundtrack to the next 12 months. The Camden crawl puts forward the artists that are going to shine throughout the coming year and with a list this fantastic, what a year it'll be for the indie masses and Great Escape ticket holders.