Reviews

MUSIC reviews

PARAMORE ***

ACADEMY, GLASGOW

TO SAY teen rock idol Hayley Williams's conversations with her Academy crowd were corny would not be overstating the fact. "I like you – you got passion, you got heart," said the amber-haired 19-year-old. And then later: "I need this verse to resemble the last scene in that movie Braveheart." Needless to say, her noisy and (mostly) young followers were eating from her hand at this point.

All of which sounds like a corporate rock love-in of Avril Lavigne proportions, which is of whom Williams, lead singer of Paramore, is most reminiscent. More than most US emo-peddling youngsters who find themselves propelled to the cusp of stardom, however, there is plenty to like about this outfit. Williams, for one, was confident and gracious, and she commanded her stage like someone born to play arenas. She deflected recent "nasty rumours" about her being pregnant by pointing to her stomach, and declaring "as you can see, there's nothing here".

In rock terms, the music is lightweight, but tracks such as Misery Business, Crushcrushcrush and That's What You Get are pretty durable when placed in context. Most importantly, Williams's voice and persona felt like an honest reflection of teen angst, rather than a committee-approved facsimile of such, which is why she and her band deserve to have a career that lasts beyond their youth.

David Pollock

IRON AND WINE ****

ABC, GLASGOW

UNSURPRISINGLY for a musician who grew up in Florida, Sam Beam's music is all warmth and sunlight. This gently captivating gig by his group Iron and Wine was like a series of hazy, serene road trips, going nowhere in particular but with plenty of time to drink in the sonic scenery, sketched in by pedal steel guitar, bongos, violin, burnished organ chords and caressing vocal harmonies.

It was the warm arrangements that most impressed, coming together effortlessly in a style reminiscent of the current Robert Plant and Alison Krauss collaboration. But such craft didn't spring from nowhere. Beam has recruited his band members from the line-ups of such fine Americana practitioners as Wilco, Lambchop and Califone, and their intuitive, restrained interplay was crucial to the overall atmosphere.

As much as there was a soft country twang to much of the material, there was an equally balmy vein of 1960s-influenced folk rock running through these reveries, which recalled the melodic style of David Crosby. In keeping with such hippy foundations, there was one interesting diversion eastwards, a tabla-infused folk raga from the most recent album The Shepherd's Dog.

While Iron and Wine never do loud or brash or euphoric, they can, in their own way, do climactic, bringing the set to a close with a mellow yet epic jam, before the contrasting stripped-back folky encore reminded the audience of Beam's lo-fi roots.

Fiona Shepherd

BUENA VISTA SOCIAL CLUB ****

PLAYHOUSE, EDINBURGH

"HE'S really old," said the man sitting next to me, talking about Cuban bassist Cachaíto López, "He's in his seventies and still touring!" Indeed, a frail-looking López did have to be guided on and off the stage, but once his arms were wrapped around his acoustic bass and he began playing the essential grooves that underpin this great orchestra, it was as if the music that pulsed through his hands had become his life blood.

These days, Cuba's Buena Vista Social Club is a gloriously entertaining jazz ensemble with no single-star focus, and while the night was billed as featuring four great veterans, the stage was awash with virtuosos. Each was given at least one, if not several, moments of glory in a two-hour non-stop sequence of classic Cuban pieces.

A healthy Playhouse audience clapped each solo as if in a jazz club, enjoying everything from Manuel Galbán's surf guitar to Guajiro Mirabal's golden trumpet. Javier Alba showed amazing versatility, moving fluently from flute to clarinet to saxophone, while Barbarito Torres had everyone hollering as he gleefully played his laúd behind his back. When not soloing, band members were up dancing, with Mirabal pretending he couldn't follow the fiery footwork of fellow trumpeter Luis Alemañy. Resplendent in a satin suit, musical director Aguaje Ramos kept everything amiable but tight, throwing in some fabulous trombone and harmonising for vocalists Carlos Calunga and the only women on stage, Idania Valdés.

A star in the making, Valdés knows how to fit in with the men – including her dad, timbales master Amadito. If there's one gripe, it's that they should have allowed her to do more dancing.

Jan Fairley