David Royko
10-29-2002, 12:29 PM
I searched for Guardian and it didn't come up, so I assume this has not yet been posted to the board. If it already has, sorry about that.
Dave Royko
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Nickel Creek
Memorial Hall, Sheffield
Dave Simpson
Wednesday October 23, 2002
The Guardian
2 out of 5
As advertising executives and careers advisers often tell us, presentation is everything. But nobody appears to have told San Diego four-piece Nickel Creek. Formed around the brother-sister violin-guitar coupling of former child prodigies Sara and Sean Watkins, they arrive on these shores with a reputation as bluegrass innovators. Although some purists have been alienated by their mix'n'match approach, they have been praised by both bluegrass and country musicians' associations and their debut album shifted 650,000 in the US. Prospects of similar UK success are threatened by their bizarre approach to live performance. This is less a gig than a festival of public gurning.
Chief offender is singing mandolinist Chris Thile. In the US, Thile has been called the Tiger Woods of the acoustic, which could equally refer to his bizarre employment of golf-like arm movements. Thile extends the gurn beyond the facial area into most of the upper body. At one point, beret on bonce, he poses like Rodin's Thinker and prances around the stage, performing Jimmy Page axe histrionics on an instrument smaller than a ukelele.
If this mandolin madman harbours secret ambitions to be in a heavy rock band, it would explain why Nickel Creek's complex and subtle music is all but ruined by his behaviour, which includes cramming in as many notes as possible. Thile's upstaging of his fellow musicians might see him banished from the band, if the Watkins pair weren't in awe of his diddling and similarly afflicted by the gurning curse. When they all stop twitching, they occasionally make a passable noise.
Thile manages to sing a moving song about pressure with something approaching a straight face, other songs dip into rock and psychedelia, and singer-violinist Sara Watkins tells an amusing tale about why they wrote a song about a decomposing whale (It was a very unexplored subject).
However, too many rushed instrumentals conjure up the spectre of Morris dancing. With most Britons less bothered about musicianship, pained frowns and tassled jackets than their US counterparts, Nickel Creek may find better prospects here as a spoof act, bluegrass's own Spinal Tap
http://www.guardian.co.uk/arts/reviews/story/0,11712,817242,00.html
Dave Royko
----
Nickel Creek
Memorial Hall, Sheffield
Dave Simpson
Wednesday October 23, 2002
The Guardian
2 out of 5
As advertising executives and careers advisers often tell us, presentation is everything. But nobody appears to have told San Diego four-piece Nickel Creek. Formed around the brother-sister violin-guitar coupling of former child prodigies Sara and Sean Watkins, they arrive on these shores with a reputation as bluegrass innovators. Although some purists have been alienated by their mix'n'match approach, they have been praised by both bluegrass and country musicians' associations and their debut album shifted 650,000 in the US. Prospects of similar UK success are threatened by their bizarre approach to live performance. This is less a gig than a festival of public gurning.
Chief offender is singing mandolinist Chris Thile. In the US, Thile has been called the Tiger Woods of the acoustic, which could equally refer to his bizarre employment of golf-like arm movements. Thile extends the gurn beyond the facial area into most of the upper body. At one point, beret on bonce, he poses like Rodin's Thinker and prances around the stage, performing Jimmy Page axe histrionics on an instrument smaller than a ukelele.
If this mandolin madman harbours secret ambitions to be in a heavy rock band, it would explain why Nickel Creek's complex and subtle music is all but ruined by his behaviour, which includes cramming in as many notes as possible. Thile's upstaging of his fellow musicians might see him banished from the band, if the Watkins pair weren't in awe of his diddling and similarly afflicted by the gurning curse. When they all stop twitching, they occasionally make a passable noise.
Thile manages to sing a moving song about pressure with something approaching a straight face, other songs dip into rock and psychedelia, and singer-violinist Sara Watkins tells an amusing tale about why they wrote a song about a decomposing whale (It was a very unexplored subject).
However, too many rushed instrumentals conjure up the spectre of Morris dancing. With most Britons less bothered about musicianship, pained frowns and tassled jackets than their US counterparts, Nickel Creek may find better prospects here as a spoof act, bluegrass's own Spinal Tap
http://www.guardian.co.uk/arts/reviews/story/0,11712,817242,00.html