DOUGLAS FIELD relishes the hard-boiled language, satire and humour of the third and last of the Harlem trilogy
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The sonic heaven of Dalston
STEPHANIE BROWN draws attention to the hidden labour of the female embroiderers, and how a 19th century replica made no such error
MIK SABIERS revels in a band that ploughs an idiosyncratic furrow of expletive laden, guitar-driven alt rock
ANDY HEDGECOCK, MARIA DUARTE and ANGUS REID review Synthetic Sincerity, Our Hero, Balthazar, Heartstopper Forever, and A Year In London
The bard invites readers to a gig, raps for Clacton, and lays out the Burnham-Hurzeler conundrum
RON JACOBS recommends an important book that enhances the oppositional theories put forth by Fanon and, in doing so, remakes psychology itself
Anthropology Band
Cafe Oto
★★★★
Paul G Smyth, John Edwards and Mark Sanders
Vortex
★★★★
DALSTON, east London, was the epicentre of free musical marvels last week.
At Cafe Oto the Anthropology Band showed how wondrously electric and acoustic sounds can gel so creatively and with such acerbic unity.
Martin Archer’s searing soprano and guttural tenor saxophone; Pat Thomas’s nonplussing keyboards; the combined electric guitars of Chris Sharkey and Anton Hunter; Dave Sturt’s pulsating bass guitar: Orphy Robinson’s pounding mallets: the cascades of Adam Farclough’s drums and the visceral, breathy vibrato of the trumpet and flugelhorn of Charlotte Keeffe. It was a timbral stew to be earnestly savoured.
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