Oxegen – Lily Allen, The Hours, The Answer
All reviews by Tony Clayton-Lea for The Daily Ticket. Lily Allen: the critic’s vote Everyone’s At It could be Oxegen’s signature tune. And Allen could be its signature act. She’s cheeky, swears and writes great melodies. Admittedly, F**k You might …
All reviews by Tony Clayton-Lea for The Daily Ticket.
Lily Allen: the critic’s vote
Everyone’s At It could be Oxegen’s signature tune. And Allen could be its signature act. She’s cheeky, swears and writes great melodies. Admittedly, F**k You might not win an Ivor Novello (unless there’s a gong for Most Unwarranted Yet Assertive Put-Down), but for participation, it’s up there. So she gets the critic’s vote (yay!), but does she get anything else? Well, songs such as LDN, Smile, 22 and her well-known version of Kaiser Chiefs’ Oh My God got the crowd going, and the main stage neared capacity crowd for her performance. Come back before the end of the year, now, y’hear?
The Hours: gathering fans
Out of the fires of failure and desperation come The Hours, the nucleus of which are hardworking musicians Antony Genn and Martin Slattery. They have served time with Black Grape, Robbie Williams, Grace Jones and Joe Strummer, so they know the drill – which makes their slow progress all the more frustrating. They have a steady stream of focused, urgent and the-right-side-of-strident rock music. An understated beginning turned into quite a party as the tent filled with stragglers, who quickly turned into fans. The Hours’ time will come.
The Answer: a minor triumph
Several months on tour with AC/DC clearly had a bearing on this Downpatrick band. Their hard rock/blues sound might reference 1970s bands such as Nazareth, (more obviously) Led Zeppelin and AC/DC, but there’s a rasping sound all their own that bears testament to the fact that they are a touring unit, oblivious to anything like a “normal” routine or lifestyle. Lead singer Cormac Neeson (right) looks retro enough for Robert Plant fans to give him a rock-on thumbs-up, while his voice comes across as a fags-driven blend of Jake Burns (of Stiff Little Fingers) and AC/DC’s Brian Johnson. A small enough crowd to cheer them on, but a minor triumph, nonetheless.