Building on the success of their EP, Big Man, Extra Love serve up more helpings of feelgood, conscious music with their debut album, Out Of The Dark.
With their signature brand high on energy and positivity, they bring their unique flavour to create a fresh style of reggae.
Highlights of the album include the easy, atmospheric sprawl of 'Rubadub Soldier', the soaring vocals and jazzy horns of 'Freedom', and the infectious bounciness of 'Be Ready'. 'Ruff Out There' has a slightly darker edge, but still boasts a nice, laidback swagger.
The deep tones of singer Angelos, coupled with the rhythmic chants of Kuntriranks is the perfect vehicle to express the band's message.
Out Of The Dark brings a touch of sunshine to the rainy Manchester streets, makes your body get up and puts a great big smile on your face.
Words: Anna Tuck
Friday, 26 February 2016
Monday, 8 February 2016
Cats @ The Opera House, 2.2.16
Much like the first album I bought, I will
always remember the first musical I saw on stage. Musicals, or music in general
for me, had been restricted to VHS, music channels or CD before then.
Everything suddenly become so much bigger, and that is what resonates most in
my memory. How could it not, with a cacophony of voices and choreography that
was explosively elegant and soft; all under a low hanging full moon?
Cats
was other worldly, and certainly set the motion for
my own stage aspirations. Now, over a decade later, “let the memory live again”.
Yet, this wasn’t the show I remembered. The same déjà vu moon had me convinced I had been here before, so why
was everything so strange?
Based on T.S Eliot’s Old Possum’s ‘Book of
Practical Cats’, the show is set on a junkyard playground where the annual
Jellicle ball takes place. We are introduced to each feline friend and their
personalities through song; lyrics from the 1930’s poems of Eliot and melodies
of composer Andrew Llyod Web’ber. The show has had an impressive life span of
over 30 years. Considered as ‘ground-breaking’ when it opened in 1981, Cats
went on to be crowned the longest-running musical in the history of the West End
in 1996. It then scooped up the same accolade in Broadway the following year.
Translated into ten languages, performed in over 20 countries, while continuing
to sell out tours; the longevity
of a cat’s life holds true.
There are still glimmers of this shining success story
during the performance at The Opera House. Sadly, an irresistible curiosity to
update the show well and truly killed the cat. One moment in particular being
the infamous Rum Tum Tugger scene where we are introduced to the cocky and charismatic
Tom Cat of the show. Oozing confidence and sexiness, Tugger satirises the ‘bad
boy’ of a given generation, so earlier performances used Elvis Presley as a
model. The instinct to update this is the right one, but the result was oh so wrong
and laden with stereotypes that came off almost cartoonish! Dressed with a
backwards cap, gold chains and baggy pants, Tugger is updated into our 21st
Century bad boy from the streets. Though, give him a slingshot and go back 15
years you’ve got Bart Simpson. Maybe Mr Webber is trying to relate to the Topshop
generation, who are also stuck in the 90s.
Despite the tone given off so far, the cast are all
evidently talented; both the choreography and the score are notoriously
difficult. A phenomenal range is required from it’s singers and a fierce
precision from the dancers, but above all, a collective ability to work as an
ensemble. This, for the most part, the company did do well. On occasion,
performers were in it for themselves rather than as a group, sending key
moments out of sync. To be picky, in the opening song ‘Jellicle Songs for
Jellicle Cats’, you really can’t have a lyric boasting the ability that all cats can begin a scale in high C, to
then only have one cat demonstrate. Each cat has their opportunity to have
their own moment, so I was disappointed that the ensemble scenes were not joint.
The most famous song of the show, ‘Memory’, is
easily the best thing about this production, and thankfully went untouched.
Grizabella (Anita Louise Combe), the Glamour Cat, sings this beautiful
nostalgic song of remembrance of her glorious past, and declares her wish for a
new life. To dominate a song of such magnitude is an astonishing
accomplishment, and one that Combe’s performance was nothing short of.
Cats has one more of it’s nine lives left to live,
and one I feel would be the thriving if it stayed true to what it does best.
The rebirth of this classic was understandable but evidently unnecessary. This
musical is one that has been passed through generations, and has done so with fond
memories from the audience’s first experience. Like Grease or The Sound of
Music, you can’t change the originals. Some memories last forever, it’s our job
not to forget them.
Words by Kate Morris
Images courtesy of Ambassador Theatre Group
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