There comes a time in every break up of a relationship were you start to listen to really, really sad songs because they make you feel sadder, which somehow makes you feel better. Its like picking at a scab, the pain is easier to take when you control it. So you spend night after night alone in your room playing the same sad songs again and again. Then, eventually, there comes a time when you realise you've made a bit of a fool of yourself weeping into barmaids blouses and thinking every corny, shite love song on the radio was written about you. At this point, you want to listen to something thats as poigniant as it is angsty, something that will give you hug then bark at you to pull yourself together. The Just Joans could have been created for this stage of introspection.
The motherwell 6 piece are masters of writing songs that both lie in awe of the fucked up-ness of relationships and at the same time take the piss out of it. Take, for example 'I wont survive', an ode to the joy and liberation of finding new love, with a chorus that warns of immediate self destruction should the said relationship sour. 'If you dont pull' is like a baby cousin of The Smiths's 'How soon is now?', a tale of a lonely man in a terrible nightclub who realises that as hideous as the place may be, it might be the only place he will find love. 'Hey boy..youre oh so sensitive!' is a perfect little piss take of the fey indie boy that lurks in all of us, the part of us thats convinced liking Woody Allen and carrying a book of poetry around with us will make us irresistible to the opposite sex. Perhaps the most heartbreaking of them all is 'What do we do now?' a song about about growing older, losing friends and being alienated from your hometown. Full of achingly misplaced nostalgia, its like someone closing the indie club of your youth and holding a microphone up to it.
"what do we do now/now were are ten years older?/the bands we loved are dead/i'll always think of you/whenever i smell cider/but it wont be the same/again."
Last night, Didsbury's tiny boho-hipster cafe, the Art of Tea was the slightly unlikely but very welcome venue for one of the best gigs of the year. The unassuming, self effacing and unbelievably brilliant guitarist Dean McPhee was launching his new 12" record Brown Bear (Hood Faire Records). This guy really has to be heard to be believed. Post John Fahey, post Loren Connors mesmerising solo guitar brilliance. Plugging his Telecaster through a couple of delay pedals (I don't know exactly what he was using cus I couldn't see his feet) and into a Fender Hotrod amp, he created the most beautiful and hypnotic sound you are ever likely to hear. He picked up an Ebow at one point, but apart from that, it was all gorgeously understated finger picking. The set must have only been about 30 minutes, but he could have easily gone on all night and I would have sat there quite happily. The Art of Tea is a pretty nice venue for a gig too - with about 25 people in there it was seriously intimate, and felt a bit like someone's front room. In a good way. Basically, you need to buy his new record, and when his album comes out next year, you need to buy that too. Go and see him live too if you get the chance.
Oh, by the way - it's got nothing to do with the band Holy Ghost...who, while we're on the subject, got me really confused because i thought the techno Holy Ghost (tresor!) had made a comeback...
