Indeed, if you had done that, you’d never have caught a smouldering, seductive set from newbies London Grammar at the very imposing St Bartholomew’s Church. A three-piece from London (well, they would hardly be from Birmingham with a name like that), London Grammar’s set is punctuated with cascades of dreamy, slo-mo, spinetingling moody washes of sound. The songs swoop and soar and make you realise you’re watching something rather special.

But that’s just the start of things at the Great Escape. There are around 300 acts in town for the weekend hoping that they too will receive buzz, attention and a big lump of rock before they leave again.

You have Yanks who have surfed a post-SXSW wave all the way to Brighton (The Orwells, Parquet Courts, Merchandise etc). You’ve European acts keen to show off their musical Esperanto like Susanne Sundfor, Ewert & The Two Dragons, Mo and Faye. You’ve Irish acts of the moment such as Little Green Cars, Kodaline and Girls Names. And you’ve acts from every point on the British compass looking for love in all the right – and wrong – places.

You also have Australians, which is where Josef Salvat comes in, sporting a fapper baby-blue suit (his shoes are another matter satorially). Now based in London, Salvat channels Bryan Ferry, Peter Gabriel and Lana Del Rey for a suite of superior, louche, dramatic songs and shimmy-ready disco bumpers.

There are also, it must be noted, a whole bunch of karaoke acts taking their musical cues from Marcus Mumford and his bunch of posh, waistcoat-wearing wastrels. For a while on the first day, it felt as if we’d died and gone to hell as every band we had the misfortune to see had one song which sounded just like “The Cave” and another one which imitated “I Will Wait” right down to the solos. We couldn’t get out of the venues fast enough.

If the gigs provide the Great Escape with its width and depth, there was also a convention to add discussion and debate from the many industry delegates in town. While the panels were well attended, many suffered from a lack of focus and a sense that we’d heard those arguments and points many times already.

There was also, as has become the norm at music conventions of late, an unspoken agreement to treat the technology and digital evangalists with kid gloves and not subject them to a rigorous interrogation. The lack of artists on some of these panels was very telling in this regard.

In truth, though, most of those artists were probably best experienced in their natural habitat. Out on the streets and in the venues, those acts went to work trying to convert arms-folded audiences into fans and followers.

Aside from the acts mentioned above, those who impressed OTR last weekend also included Holy Esque, MT, Echo & The Empress, Brolin, On An On, Cousins, Young Fathers, Iyes, Skaters, Bipolar Sunshine, Tourist, To Kill A King, Dan Croll, Rainy Milo, Blue Hawaii, Chloe Howl and Nick Mulvey. Let’s hope all of them scored some rock before they left town.

The Aussie Bryan Ferry hits all the right notes.

London Grammar “Hey Now” (White)

Your new favourite band if you’re a fan of slow-mo atmospheric wonders

Blue Hawaii “Try to Be” (Arbutus)

Seductive, shimmering, chilled post-beach pop from the Canadian duo.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pfsw3_karH8‎

Chloe Howl “Rumour” (Sony)

A bold, brazen pop belter from the teen star in the making

The Orwells “In My Bed” (Autumn Tone)

Ramshackle, unkempt, shaggy garage-rock shalalala gold from the Chicago wizards.

Did you find the writing process for the new album easier than before? Aaron mentioned during our interview that you wrote the lyrics to one song on a plane trip to Singapore, for instance.

“For whatever reason I found writing melodies and lyrics for this record easy. Not that I didn’t spend endless hours doing it, probably more than any other record, but it was just more enjoyable this time. Usually writing lyrics for me is like bleeding drop by drop from the forehead. This time the blood just poured out.”

Does the fact that the last album did so well take the pressure off you as a writer? Or does it make you even more eager to press on creatively?

“I think the success of the last three records gave me the confidence to stop worrying so much about what kind of songs I was writing. In the past, I think I avoided certain sentimental urges. This time I didn’t care. This record feels more emotionally honest and raw to me.

What do you think is the biggest risk you and The National have taken during your career?

“Making “Boxer” after “Alligator”. “Alligator” was the first record that anyone paid attention to and it seemed like it was the screamy songs that got us that attention. I purposely avoided screaming on “Boxer” because I didn’t want us to paint ourselves into a corner. It was a gamble. At first when “Boxer” came out people were a little let down and we worried that it might be the end for us. But then it began to grow on people. “Boxer” bought us our creative freedom.

Has your intensity as a live performer taken a toll on your health? Is it exhausting to deliver such an emotional, full-bodied performance every night?

“Yes. I drink too much because of anxiety and there is definitely a certain level of mental and physical deterioration after 22 months of touring. I can see how musicians get weird and creepy. Trying to avoid that.”

One of the most telling things about the band is your collective connection with your fans. Is this something which has become harder to maintain the bigger you have become?

“I don’t know. We pour everything into every show and try to make the big rooms feel small. I think the songs make the connection. We know that most of the people in the room only go to one or two rock shows a year and they picked us so we better deliver.”

As the only member of the band without a brother in the band, how did it feel to have your brother Tom around documenting things for the Mistaken For Strangers documentary?

“At first, I loved having him around. I left for college when he was nine years old and after that I moved to New York. We hadn’t really been together much for 20 years. I missed him and I was happy to have him around to vent to and unload on. But after a while the tension between Tom and our tour manager Brandon boiled over and caused a lot of problems. Then he got fired. Then he moved in with my wife and daughter and me. Things got weirder and tenser. I’m just glad he and my wife filmed everything.”

Hot Potatoes is a pop-up pow-wow exploring our complex, often contradictary relationship with food which is hosted by broadcaster, kitchen survivor and reluctant foodist Gerry Godley. GM crops and food security, Big Food and the supermarket multiples, gastroporn and the cult of food celebrity have all previously been grist to the mill for Hot Potatoes when it debuted at last summer’s Kilkenny Arts Festival.

While the larder is getting stocked for the ritual of gustatory consumption that is Taste of Dublin, Hot Potatoes asks what’s really eating Dubliners, with insights from the people whose job it is to keep us fed joining Gerry on the night.

What’s Eating Dubliners takes place at the Twisted Pepper (Middle Abbey St., Dublin 1) on Wednesday June 12. Doors open and bibs are donned at 7.30pm and the first course is served at 8pm sharp. Full information on tickets and invite list here.

Now, there’s a protocol to something like this. The interviewer lobs some questions at the interviewee, usually friendly or soft ones to start. The interviewee talks indepth about something which may have something to do with the question he or she has just been asked. The interviewer asks another question. The interviewee starts talking again. There’s the occasional laugh from the audience when something slightly funny is said (or, if it’s a Q&A in Ireland, when someone swears). All sides involved know that the job here is to talk about the film and keep people entertained.

Obviously Baker did not get that particular memo. As Hann reports, it was an excruciating experience. Baker sounds as if he just doesn’t want to be there and, instead of actually saying in advance that he couldn’t be arsed and was going to spend the day picking his nose instead, treats the interviewer and the audience with considerable contempt. This isn’t rock’n'roll behaviour – this is a grown adult throwing a tantrum you wouldn’t accept from a sugar-addled toddler. By all accounts, Baker has form in this area but surely, if he doesn’t like interviews, he could simply not do them. The world wouldn’t mind too much. Honestly.

On the back of Hann’s experience, a lot of other journalists chimed in with the stories of the interviews from hell. There was also a rash of reports from music fans about rum run-ins with various musicians and pop acts. Naturally, there was a lot of negative accounts – pop stars, like everyone else, are prone to occasionaly off-days and treating people who are looking for their time and attention quite rudely. Then again, how many times have we ourselves also lashed out or grunted or whinged or fumed or moaned in similar circumstances?

But the formal interview situation is a lot different. When a musician or, indeed, anyone else agrees to do an interview, there’s a tacid agreement that they’ll actually talk, act politely and answer questions. That’s what an interview is supposed to be about, isn’t it? Questions and answers. If you don’t want to do an interview, then just don’t agree to do it in the first place.

I’ve lost count at this stage of the number of times you end up with a crap interview because the person on the other side of the tape-recorder just doesn’t want to be there. And every single time I wonder why on earth they agreed to do the interview in the first place. Sometimes, I ask them and get a moany reply about “the label wants us to do promo” or “they said I had to do it” or “silence”. It always makes me wonder why they didn’t excercise their perfectly valid right to say no. You can simply say to the label or the mysterious “they” that you don’t want to do promo, don’t want to answer questions about your new album, don’t want to talk about why your drummer left, have no interest in discussing your upcoming tour, don’t want to waste your time explaining your admiration for Chris Martin. Just say no, dude.

But they don’t say no. They know that they need to do interview to get space and attention and profile so that their blasted new album will get some attention or that people will come along to their next live show. So they go along and act childish and you end up with an interview which is just not fit for purpose.

I’ve had some stinkers in my time. I remember an interview with The Chemical Brothers in their record label’s offices in London when it was abundantly clear that they didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to be there either because it was a bank holiday Monday back home and I had other things to do. I’ve done interviews with the band since and they were fine so it was obviously an off day. I remember a howler with Dave Longstreth from the Dirty Projectors who again seemed to have no interest in doing the interview. Longstreth is someone who is held up by many interviewers as a great interviewee so perhaps I caught him on a bad day. I’ve never interviewed Lou Reed so can’t comment on his rudeness but I can comment on how absolutely turgid and unlistenable most of his solo albums have been in recent years, which is a very valid reason not to bother him with my tape-recorder.

By contrast, some of the best interviews have been with people who are supposed to be pains in the hoop. Often the people who very rarely do interviews turn out to be the best because they’ve agreed to talk and have something they want to say. They’re the acts I’d always say yes to because I know I’ll come away with something worth transcribing and writing up. Memo to all bands: don’t be afraid to say no. But remember, if you say yes to make sure you have something to talk about – and not the production process behind your new album.

Robert Plant (presening The Sensational Space Shifters)
Ellie Goulding
Little Green Cars (the Irish band of the year)
The Beat
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club (also known as BRMC. Or the karaoke Jesus And Mary Chain)
Terri Hooley (though a screening of Good Vibrations would probably also suffice)
Factory Floor (unless they cancel again)
John Grant
Miles Kane
Matthew E White (yes!)
Crystal Fighters
Gavin James
Dawes
Lady Lamb the Beekeeper (a recent OTR New Music hit)
Charli XCX
Cayucas (lovin’ their debut album)
Lulu James (strong set from her at The Great Escape at the weekend)
Night Beds
Space Dimension Controller
Valerie June
Chrome Sparks
Big Black Delta

Ticket details: those who who can prove they have attended three or more Electric Picnics can avail of a price of €149.50 until May 27 (€169.50 for those who’ve been once before). A weekend ticket will be €189.50 until July 28th and €229.50 after that date. Day tickets for Sunday on sale at €85 a pop. All above prices exclude usual Ticketmaster Picnic charges

Highlights for 2013 include Nina Kraviz (Sandino’s, June 26), Metro Area, DJ Hell (both St Columbs Hall, June 28), John Talabot, Deetron, (all at St Columbs Hall, June 29), Jon Hopkins, Koreless (both Nerve Centre, June 29), Henrik Schwarz (Gweedore, June 27), Pat Mahoney, A Love from Outer Space (both The Glassworks, June 30) and Andy Votel (CCA, June 29).

Other events to watch out for include Derry Wans On International Manoeuvres wth Orlagh Dooley, Shocko and Oliver Brown (Mason’s, June 28) and a record fair at The Cottage, showcase from local electronica producers at the Craft Village and Celtronic Kidz club with Tom Middleton at the Gasyard Centre (all on June 29).

A Celtronic weekend ticket is £35.

(2) We’ll come to the day-time talking heads’ bits and pieces presently, but the Great Escape’s biggest selling point is definely the number and quality of bands who take over the town. There are plenty of new music showcase events like TGE on the calendar, but there’s always room for one more. In the case of the TGE, its programmers have a happy knack of bringing the acts who caused a buzz at SXSW to Brighton a few weeks later just when everyone really wants to see them. Last year, it was Haim who stole the show in this regard. This year, it was The Orwells and Parquet Courts who were capitalising on the TX buzz from March and pulling big crowds.

(3) Act of the festival for me was Josef Salvat. We’ve been tracking the Australian singer’s progress on OTR for a couple of months – heck, we even tried to book him for Banter at Other Voices in London last month – but we were not expecting a live show as good as this. The smartest dressed performer at TGE in that baby-blue suit (shoes need some work, mind), Salvat moved like Bryan Ferry, sang a bunch of dramatic torch songs with louche aplomb and shimmied like a glitterball when it came to the tunes with more oomph. He’s only played about half-a-dozen shows to date so this story is merely beginning. Consider us smitten.

(4) Other newbies who made us go “wow” over the three days and nights included London Grammar (video for “Hey Now” below), Cousins, MT, Holy Esque, Echo & The Empress, Brolin, On An On, Susanne Sundfor, Neighbourhood Youth, Iyes, Blue Hawaii, Bipolar Sunshine, To Kill A King, Tourist, Dan Croll, Rainy Milo, Chloe Howl and Nick Mulvey. More on the above in the coming weeks

(5) The aim of the convention side of things is to provide food for thought via various panels and conversations. But, as we’ve found at various music conventions over the last year or two, the topics and themes are a little stale and homogenous and don’t really vary all too much from convention to convention, especially when it comes to the digital and tech issues which are now on the mix. It does seem to be time to rip up the convention tempate and start again. It was also quite striking that there were very few artists on panels over the first two days, especially as the topics directly impacted on their livelihood. Then again, there were very few artists in the audience either, so maybe they had other things to do with their days.

(6) As we’ve found at SXSW and Eurosonic, the best and fastest way to get from venue to venue for a binge-gigging set-to like this is definitely by bike. Pick up a Dutch high nelly (with brakes) from Amsterdammers under the railway station and pedal away. Yes, there are hills, pokey streets and freewheeling pedestrians in Brighton so take the long time around.

(7) There is a big bubble in the bands-who-sound-like-Mumford-and-Sons’ market. Thanks to some way-off-target tipsters (who will be hearing from me later today), I reckon the first six acts I saw at TGE were from this particular sector. It’s classic A&R-bait: when a band like the Mumfords hit the jackpot, you’ll always get dozens and dozens of bands trying to ape that success. As we saw with the next U2 market in Ireland decades ago, several acts will grab record deals but very few will have as long or lasting a career as the act they’re copying. By the way, going on TGE and the buzz acts in circulation, there is also a growing glut in the solo folky female singer-songwriter market.

(8) Another reason to be cheerful for the Great Escape’s Brighton locaton is the food. Man, you could get well fed for weeks in this place and never have to eat in the same place twice. Our two standout meals were the awesome new-school Indian taste sensation at the Chilli Pickle (samosas smothered in beetroot, mint and yogurt followed by some lip-smacking sea-bass) and the filthy, mouthwatering pulled pork at the BBQ Shack.

(9) The best band at TGE that we’d seen before: Young Fathers. Again, as with their SXSW appearances earlier in the year, they were so good that I went to see them twice. From Edinburgh, their electrifying hip-hop is shot through with post-hardcore intensity, huge bass throbs and a magnificent sense of Afrocentric poise and purpose. A superb, slamming powerhouse.

(10) Because our focus at TGE is on seeing as many new acts from elsewhere as humany (or bicycly) possible, we didn’t see any Irish acts over the weekend bar a few songs from the ever excellent Girls Names, but it was telling how many pundits were talking about Little Green Cars and Kodaline. On a weekend when another Irish music story was dominating the headlines (and a non-story took up a lot of promo oxegen), perhaps it might be time for the domestic media to do some pivoting in another direction when it comes to Ireland and music?

From the annual Notting Hill carnival to various island life musical strands which have found their way into British pop music over the years, the Caribbean has long cast a colourful, often complex shadow on the culture of a country many thousands of miles away.

“Mirror to the Soul” is Stuart Baker’s new documentary which dives into that experience. Consisting of 60 Pathé news pieces filmed in Jamaica, Cuba, Puerto Rico, Haiti, Guyana, Bermuda, Belize, Trinidad and elsewhere between 1920 and 1972, it provides a fascinating picture of how the Caribbean was presented to audiences back in Britain at the time.

The clips, broadcast in cinemas before the main film began, informed the audience about life, music and strife in those faraway lands. Aside from covering such big stories like the Bay Of Pigs’ invasion in Cuba, there were also lighter features (the “and finally…” pieces so beloved of TV news shows) on everything from basket-weaving and bananas to folk dances and the domestic coffee industry.

Click here to view the embedded video.

In many ways, those clips defined how British people began to view the Caribbean and it’s telling that the clips move from hard news to tourism blurbs as the years go by.

Baker is the founder of the Soul Jazz record label and it’s no surprise that the documentary DVD release comes with two hefty compilations of Afro-Caribbean sounds including mambo, calypso, funk, reggae, Latin jazz and much more. You could argue that music has been more influental than any other Caribbean product in amplifying the region’s soft power.

And the band played on: image from "Mirror to the Soul"