Tonight: Kate Nash Sticks Up For Her Reputation at Webster

Posted at 1:46 PM, April 24, 2008

Her milkshake brings all the boys. . .

The English pop star Kate Nash is not quite 21, and photos tend to make her look younger: There she is, sipping a milk shake, or giggling, or jumping on a trampoline. On one song from her debut, Made of Bricks, she shouts out her science-class skeleton ("Skeleton, you are/You are my friend"); on another, she tells a boyfriend to "stop being a dickhead." Nash, no easy prey, has staked her brief career on boys, mostly, and her grown-woman ability to tell 'em off: "Why don't you just have another beer, then?" she asks. For her run at the Webster, expect many young men doing just that, in the hopes, perhaps, of sharing her trampoline or, even better, becoming memorialized in her next (temporarily) heartbroken song. With the Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players. — ZACH BARON

At 7, Webster Hall, 125 East 11th Street, 212-353-1600, $20

PREVIOUSLY
Kate Nash at the Q Magazine Party, 03/08
Kate Nash talks with Everett True about Googling herself
Kate Nash talks with Everett True about loving Regina Spektor
Status Ain't Hood calls Kate Nash a "drama nerd," 01/08

SXSW: Kate Nash at the Q Magazine Party

Posted by Bill Jensen at 1:01 AM, March 17, 2008

Kate Nash
Driskoll Hotel, Austin
Saturday, March 15

Kate Nash is taking her boots off.

She has slipped off her acoustic guitar and is settling in behind the keyboard, pulling her legs underneath to reveal two little feet covered in bright blue socks. The room—at least the front half of the room not out smoking on the patio—is melting. Her delivery is vulnerable, with the endearing accent and the lightheaded cadence, may have disarmed you when first heard it streaming on MySpace. But near the end of this 120s-hour-long binge of alcohol and feedback, that voice is like a big bowl of smiles and sunshine. It's a voice that, when matched with the "Death of a Disco Dancer-esque" intro, can make the line “Why are you being a dickhead for?” sound downright sweet.

Nash has been running around full on since the beginning of last year. She sprinted from Glastonbury to Reading and Leeds, then made it to Jools Holland, then the Top of the Pops on Christmas Day. But the British Islands are small. This year, she will start April in Belgium and end it in Detroit—with Boston, Stockholm, New York, Indio, and a whole bunch of other cities in between.

But here’s Kate Nash today in Austin, taking her boots off. Getting comfortable with us. Slowing down for the marble room at the Driskill. Like she must have looked like in her bedroom, recording tracks on Garage Band, and uploading them to her MySpace page. Oh the mythic legends of a generation. Never mind that we learn quickly, as we watch her blue toes hit the floor pedals, that the boots would have been too cumbersome for her footwork.

She starts into the simple intro of "Foundations," continuously kicking the shit out of the anonymous boy she flogs throughout her set. She has gotten flack for these verbal beatings. Too much complaining, they say. But when is music not essentially bitching about boys and girls? And she can pull it off.

She finishes, does one more song, then looks over to her handler at the edge of the stage. He motions with his fingers, making them run in quick strides in the air off the imaginary stage. It’s time to run. Let’s go. Kate Nash has to go.

The venue: marble covered room on the mezzanine level of the Driskill Hotel. Chandeliers, dark wood, big boring paintings.

The crowd: RSVP only and the selective list shut down days ago, so it's 300 connected Brits, corporate wanks, lots of legs, twee lasses, a gaggle of shaggy hipsters.

Openers: These New Puritans. Tight, loud four piece. Singer has pipes and presence to compete. "They’re Coming to Take Me Away," if written in a South London Garage in 2007. Drummer redeems himself after playing a dreadful round of Guitar Hero—dude didn't realize you had to strum and press the colored buttons. Drummers.

Lightspeed Champion: Endearing acoustic Smiths meets Camper's sad fiddle. Late-night comedown music. The ten-minute closer, "Midnight Surprise," is my take- home song from Texas. Champion also did a killer cover of "Get Free" by the Vines, trading verses with Ox.Eagle.Lion.Man.frontman Frederick Blood-Royale.

The Pigeon Detectives: After Kate Nash, half the room emptied, leaving the Pigeon Detectives and their standard post-Brit pop a little lonely, and me sitting in a chair in the back of the room writing this down.

My favorite: The tiny platinum blonde with the leopard skin shirt, go-go-going like she was on Laugh In. I will see her hips in my nightmares (but in a good way).

Runner up: the middle-aged guy wearing white shorts and a white shirt with Canada written on it, walking around holding a squash racket. I think wandering-into-the-room-while-looking-for-the-gym-but-rolling-with-it was genius. I am wearing my ice hockey gear next year.

Marketing mistake of the day: Co-sponsor Guitar Hero had three Guitar Hero stations set up in the back of the room. With no headphones. And they didn't have a complete demo, only the songs from level 1, which means there were only five songs everyone could play. So before the shows start, I have to listen to all these Brits fucking up "Even Flow" over and over again. At least they had their product out there: Would it have killed Q to have a table with their latest issue?

The drink: Cash bar, drink tickets. Lots of champagne and Corona.

The food: Parmesan-crusted chicken, vegetarian pot stickers, salmon tar tar.

Favorite line from the stage: "This is a song about a prostitute. . . enjoy your food," Lightspeed Champion.

Photos: Kate Nash at Bowery Ballroom, 1.9.08

Posted by Camille Dodero at 11:06 AM, January 10, 2008

Kate Nash; photo by Rebecca Smeyne

Kate Nash
and Salt & Samovar
Bowery Ballroom
January 9, 2008
photos by Rebecca Smeyne

Status Ain't Hood on Kate Nash's show last night.

Salt & Samovar; photo by Rebecca Smeyne

More photos after the jump.

Previously

Hugs and Kisses #25: Kate Nash Interview, Part 2

Posted by Everett True at 12:15 PM, January 7, 2008

In case you're just joining us, a little background. Today marks the 25th installment of Hugs and Kisses, a weekly column from UK-based music writer Mr. Everett True, author of Nirvana: The Biography (da Capo Press)—one more fucking book about one of the most overrated bands of the Nineties—and publisher of Plan B Magazine, a title dedicated to writing about music (and media) with barely a nod towards demographics.

And so we fondly recall six months' worth of one-sentence introductions, Kurt Cobain namechecks, and backhanded Vampire Weekend compliments as Hugs and Kisses enters its quarterlife. — Yr friendly blog host

Hugs And Kisses

The Continuing Outbursts of Everett True

THIS WEEK: Kate Nash, Part Two

Kate Nash headlines the Bowery Ballroom on Wednesday, January 9. The show already sold out. But you're in luck: she's also playing the Virgin Megastore tomorrow night (Tuesday the 8) at 7pm.

This is the second part of my Kate Nash interview [part one here], conducted a couple of months back in Brighton, England. Since then, the world has moved on. World leaders have been assassinated, End Of Year polls have been compiled and Ms Nash is much in demand on British TV. She’s charming, talented, sharp, appeals to a certain female part of the ‘indie’ demographic that is often overlooked – but one wonders how much of that will survive past the initial ritual mauling. But ‘til then, why not enjoy her Number One UK album Made Of Bricks? I know I have: especially with the sound of laughter from the self-proclaimed hipsters ringing in my ears (Pitchfork gave it 5.5 out of 10 – one of these days they’ll start evaluating albums using words).

For further background on my state of mind around the time this interview was conducted, check out this.

As you join us, we’ve just been discussing Kate’s ideas for a self-published magazine…

. . . "I just want to take what I can from my resources and opportunities. Also, in my mum, I have a strong woman to look up to who always had opinions and was left-wing and was a nurse, and worked hard and had good ethics. That meant I was motivated: if you’re going to do a job, do it properly. I’m a strong character so when I get depressed, I don’t lie about and get depressed. I go the other way and get totally manic and try and do a thousand things at once, try try try try try. You have to have belief in yourself – whatever happens to me, if I get dropped, so what if Radio One don’t play my stuff any more? It was never what I wanted to achieve. I’m an artist. I want to change and grow, have other people look up to me, like Kate Bush and Björk I want to have a career, I want to make albums, I want to make art…”

So when did you start singing?

“We used to sing in the car loud when I was young. We’d always listen to The Beatles and folk music and Christy Moore and The Dubliners and The Pogues and musicals in the car – and we’d be like, ‘Can we listen to our music now?’ Thank goodness they didn’t let us! I was in the choir at school, and I had a wicked hands-on music teacher who’d just chat instead of teaching us the curriculum, just be passionate about music…what was my point?”

It doesn’t have to have a point. Thing is, doing an interview, if you don’t like what you’re being asked, just ignore the question – or make it up. That’s my only advice to you.

“OK! Just make something up…you can actually change it, because you go, ‘I don’t know really, but what I think of this is…’ blah blah blah.”

So what’s the best rumour you’ve heard about yourself?

“I heard a rumour that I knit backstage. Of course I do!”

Do you Google yourself?

“I used to, when it was exciting – but not now. Now it’s a bit weird. When it first happens, you’re like, ‘This is really cool.’ But it could become too much of an obsession, especially some of the horrible things you can read on the Internet. I didn’t read any of my albums reviews – I read the NME’s, because it was the first one, but I got to one line where it slagged something off and I stopped reading. I was like, ‘Fuck that.’ I mean, why would I ever read what a journalist has to say about my album? I don’t read album reviews anyway. Everything on that album is there for a reason. I worked so hard for so long. I slogged my guts out. I cried, I laughed…so much went into it. Nothing there is filler. I put the work into it. I don’t need some stranger’s opinion. I’ve got my family and friends, and if they respect me then fine by me…
“Who cares anyway,” she laughs, affecting a mocking voice. “It’s just a laugh. I’m going to sit here and churn butter…”

OK. Thanks. Well, I’ve got enough now—but if you want to carry on talking, that’s cool.

Haven’t you got a soundcheck to go to…?

“Yeah, I suppose so…” Kate replies, not showing the slightest inclination to move.

OK. What’s the weirdest crowd you’ve performed in front of?

“I’ve got three weird crowds for you. One: 20,000 girl guides. Do you want to see a video?” Kate produces her mobile. “This is hilarious.” Cue sound of 20,000 girls screaming in unison. “This was a couple of weeks ago, in Manchester. It was like the girl guides’ day out. Another weird gig, on my last tour, before ‘Foundations’ came out, playing one of those corporate things for people who worked in radio – a bunch of men in suits just looking at me. I had to play two acoustic songs, and I’d been given a glass of champagne. I walked out with the glass, tripped over a wire, and everyone was like, ‘Wahey, she’s pissed!’ – oh my God. And then I started playing ‘Mouthwash’ acoustically on the piano, and some guy started whispering really loudly, and I was like, ‘Mate, I really don’t want to be here,’ so I stopped playing and I went [whispers loudly] ‘Why are you whispering?’ down the microphone, and he was so embarrassed. It was so funny. He was like, ‘Oh it’s someone’s birthday’, and I was [whispers loudly] ‘Whose birthday is it?’. So I did the song, and no one spoke again, and then I went and did a proper gig in Newcastle.

“Another weird gig was playing for the GQ Men Of The Year awards in front of Sir Paul McCartney, Michael Caine, Elton John…everyone was there. And it was for one song as well—‘Foundations’—so you don’t even have the chance to settle…”

I played in front of Naomi Campbell once. We were standing next to each other, the only people, in the V.I.P.V.I.P. area backstage in New York watching a band…you could see she was checking me out, thinking, ‘Who the fuck are you, and why am I standing next to you?’…and then I got up on stage and sang a song.

“What band? Why were you on stage with them?

…because I knew them, and they thought it was funny to get me up there to piss off their arena rock crowds. The band was Nirvana.

[silence]

[Kate Nash collapses on sofa, and starts flapping her hands in front of her face.]

What’s wrong?

[In tones of disbelief] “You knew Nirvana…?”

[silence]

Yeah, I got up on stage with them several times…

“Oh my God…You knew Kurt Cobain? How well did you know him?”

Um. I don’t know. I knew his wife better, I guess.

“Uh…what were they like? Hang on, I can’t believe this. What did you say your name was again?”

Everett True – that’s one of my names, anyway. I’ll tell you the story of how I introduced Kurt to Courtney some time but we haven’t got the time right now…

“No, shut up. Tell me, tell me…”

And that’s where we’ll draw a veil over our Kate Nash interview. Happy new year and all that.

HUGS AND KISSES TOP 5

What Everett True was listening to over Christmas

1. AMY WINEHOUSE, “Me And Mr Jones” (from the Universal album Back To Black).
Finally, I play catch up on the rest of the UK – and, whoa! She doesn’t disappoint. Someone could’ve mentioned to me that she covers The Specials…I mean, really!

2. CERYS MATTHEWS, “Y Corryn Ar Pry’” (from the My Kung Fu album Awyren = Aeroplane).
Sadly, she’s reduced herself to the status of ‘celebrity’ for the News Of The World generation over here: doesn’t diminish from the beauty of this languid, late night album, though.

3. MARVIN GAYE, “Purple Snowflakes” (from the free Mojo album Blue Christmas).
My ‘best of’ Christmas play list comprises 145 seasonal favourites (not including vinyl), of which this is just one shimmering light among a veritable heaven…

4. JOSEPH SPENCE, “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town” (from the Rykodisc album Mas! A Caribbean Christmas Party).
…and this is the guiding star.

5. THE LONG BLONDES, “Christmas Is Cancelled” (seasonal download).
This is quite the finest song from quite the finest post-Pulp charity store hipsters of the past decade.

Hugs and Kisses 24: The Kate Nash Interview!

Posted by Everett True at 8:00 AM, December 18, 2007

Kate Nash headlines the Bowery Ballroom on Wednesday, January 9. It is already sold out.

photo by Alice Rosenbaum

Hugs And Kisses

The Continuing Outbursts of Everett True

THIS WEEK: Kate Nash, part one

Listen. I conducted this interview—what—almost two months ago, same night as a Kate Nash show in Brighton.

She vaguely disappointed on stage, like someone behind her told her she should be courting a certain indie demographic and she was only half-listening but took on board some of the suggestions—there were too many thuds on the drum and flaunting of the guitar, vocals not mixed high enough…and what’s more, I didn’t appreciate the rudeness of her own personal security man. Ms Nash’s songs, on record, are quite charming: sexy, bubbly, self-deprecating, filled with pus and ephemera, everyday and sometimes spiteful, beats that recall 2007, a voice that’s way better than the album may lead you to believe. Dry sense of humour, Mockney accent, guests on Kano’s album, mates of Lily Allen (whom she’s been compared to). . . derided by the serious ‘critics’, but fuck it. Who wants to be considered one of them? Pitchfork only gave it 5.5—but Jesus. Pitchfork grade albums.

Kate Nash is quite the major star in the UK: a Number One single (‘Foundations’: achieved around the time of this interview) and album (Made Of Bricks) will see to that. But anyway: reason this transcript hasn’t appeared before is cos my two-and-a-half-year-old son Isaac went and hid it. We found it, in his tape box nestling next to The Gruffalo and Dr. Seuss.

As you join us, we’re talking about recent shows, backstage at the Concorde 2.

“…was one boy who kept crowd-surfing. It was very funny. They got so excited during ‘Merry Happy’ they threw this pint of water on stage and it landed all over me: and I was laughing, ‘Ah-ah’, it was so cool. It was the first time I felt like what I was on a mission to do was getting through.”

So the kids sing along with every song…

“Yeah.”

. . . do you just stop sometimes and listen?

“First, I used to be laughing. It was so funny people knew all the words. Now, I try really hard to concentrate. And also…um…sorry, sometimes I get a hole on my brain…”

No worries. How long ago did you write those songs?

“About a year-and-a-half ago, probably: ‘Skeleton Song’ was written this year.”

Have you got past the stage of finding it weird that people are singing along to songs you just wrote for yourself?

“Sometimes, yes. At Reading, I played ‘Merry Happy’ there were so many people there – 10, 20 rows outside, just packed, guys in boxer shorts crowd-surfing, really raucous, people crying…it was amazing cos it was like…it’s that whole thing again, what was I saying…I was laughing cos I was like, ‘I just wrote this at two in the morning in my living room’, and now it means so much, all these people going mental…”

Would you have gone to see you, couple of years ago?

“I dunno [laughing]. Maybe. I like to think so.”

Can you put yourself in the audience and see yourself up there?

“Yeah. I think it’s cool. I think I’d like, probably cos I’m a bit grungy and I don’t care.

Like that time I got water thrown in my face and loved it…I think it’s a good role model for girls to see, me shouting and screaming on stage, having a good time. I think it’s a good attitude. I’d like that attitude.”

Who were your role models when you were growing up?

“When I went to gigs…?”

When did you start going to gigs?

“What, gig-gigs? It was more like concerts when I was really young—like Irish music, cos my mum’s Irish, and classical music. Then, when I was 14, all my friends went to see metal bands at Wembley Rugby Club, in Harrow: and then all the rude boys would come down and stab everyone and smash windows, and we’d all have to run home because the police would come down—and everyone would be home by 10 o’clock, la la la. Then my friends started going to Putney and Camden, gigs there…”

Who were your role models? Did you have any?

“Yeah, I guess so. I started to go to gigs like The Strokes and Regina Spektor and loads of people, then I got into the amateur scene with people like Peggy Sue And The Pirates [her support band], blah blah blah…”

Did you want to be a rock’n’roll star?

“Yeah, everyone wants to be a rock’n’roll star. Cool. Don’t they? Didn’t you?”

I always wanted to be Yoko Ono when I was young…

“Yoko Ono [laughing], did you? [Laughs more.] I loved Regina Spektor and Janis Joplin because she was crazy, and Eva Cassidy, I loved her…Destiny’s Child…”

With Eva Cassidy, do you think the reason so many people fell for her voice so heavily was because it was the first time in ages the mainstream had encountered any music so unaffected, so little production?

“I still really love Songbird. I do know what you mean, but her voice is really beautiful, so clear and smooth and strong, and I like her songs – they’re different. People don’t write songs like that now. I like the restraint.”

Yeah, me too. Restraint is good. I get the impression you can sing a little better than you do on record…

“Yeah, maybe I do. I don’t know. Maybe I can. Sometimes…”

Because I’ve heard some of the other stuff you did, the demos from a year ago…

“Yeah, I guess it just changes, the way you sing and the way you present it: and now I see it as more like not the songs and I don’t want to be seen as a singer…”

Is it theatre?

“It could be. It is theatrical. I was on some kind of a mission and at the time wanted to do it through fear: and I couldn’t access it, I couldn’t get into drama school and I couldn’t get into a company, so I changed the medium and now I do it through this music, but it could be spoken word and it could be stories and it could be a book…”

Do you do spoken word?

“Yeah, I have got stories…also…no, I’ve forgotten…”

No, that’s alright. Have you had a day off since whenever?

“Um…I had a day off yesterday, but I was making this really cool magazine and was very excited about it. It’s called My Ignorant Youth issue one, and it’s just photocopied and stuff.”

Issue one is a good place to start.

“Yes it is. Start at the very beginning. The intro starts, ‘Welcome friends’, I’ve stayed away from magazines a long time because I was fed up of reading about people who wanted to be in magazines…I found London frustrating because it was really cool cos loads of people were doing things and getting involved, doing nights and thing, but almost the attitude became so lax, like, ‘We can do whatever we want’—and that’s cool, I like that, but it’s not good enough to abuse that. Where’s the drive, where’s the passion, where’s the principle, where’s the opinion and where’s the creativity? Do what you want, don’t give yourself boundaries, don’t hold back—believe in yourself, don’t have a back-up plan—but have a purpose and have some soul and have some vision, otherwise it’s boring and it’s abusing it and it’s like, ‘Take take take take take’ and it’s disgusting, and I hate that. So that’s the intro; and then it’s basically: ‘I am young and I am ignorant, I speak before I think, I shout, I laugh, I cry, I scream, I fail, I succeed, I fall, I don’t get up, I change and grow, I’ll change my opinion always, I’ll contradict myself…’ Youth is the reason there’s still hope because as long as there’s new minds and new brains and new faces coming into the world, there’s always hope. It’s fresh and there can be change.

“So I’ve basically asked a bunch of my friends who don’t want to be in magazines, who want to live and be creative and have opinions, to contribute: there are short stories, monologues, poetry, speeches on the ride of fascism and ‘Islam is Peace’ and breastfed diplomacy, a comic…stuff I think is cool…my mum’s recipes, some fun stuff, some light-hearted stuff…

“I’ve got a platform now. I’m in a position where people listen to what I’m saying—not everybody, but some people. Some people will take it and be inspired by it. No one speaks any more, no one has opinions—people have ‘opinions’, like ‘I don’t give a shit and I’m going to slag everyone off and get really drunk and I don’t care’, but it’s not inspiring. It’s like yeah, you don’t care about being a dick. That’s not a risk, that’s not scary. You’d never take the risk to do something heartfelt. It’s more of a risk to say something that is passionate and political and feminist and socialist and whatever you want to be…People don’t do it now, and I think it’s good to do it. In the public eye, I mean.”

NEXT WEEK: Kate Nash talks about her influences, playing in front of Sir Paul McCartney and 20,000 girl guides (not together)…and has a minor breakdown when she discovers that Everett True…wait for it…once met Kurt Cobain.

HUGS AND KISSES TOP 5
What Everett True listens to when he’s not taking Isaac swimming

1. DAN DARTAIN VS THE SERPIENTES, “Cobras Pt II” (B-side of One Little Indian single “Tryin To Say”).
…because Dan called me up the other day to say how sorry he was I wasn’t coming to Alabama, and he wasn’t going to Brighton, and someone sent me the seven-inch of this, and reminded me how kick-ass awesome Dan sounds when his rock’n’roll is all stripped back and raw…

2. KATHRYN WILLIAMS AND NEILL MACCOLL, “Innocent When You Dream” (from the forthcoming Caw album Two) ….because I love to play this Tom Waits song on the piano myself, and I’ll allow that Ms Williams has a marginally better voice than me…

3. LOS CAMPESINOS!, “Broken Heartbeats Sound Like Breakbeats” (from the forthcoming Wichita album Hold On Now Youngster).
…because every so often I like to feel part of the indie zeitgeist…

4. NEIL YOUNG, “Let’s Impeach The President” (from the Reprise album Living With War)
…because I’ve only just gotten round to listening to this, and one of my fondest memories of New York still remains the night Rolling Stone’s David Fricke passed along two front row balcony tickets to see Neil Young live. It was my first visit to NYC…

5. ARETHA FRANKLIN, “It Was You” (from the snappily-titled Rhino 2-CD compilation Rare & Unreleased Recordings from the Golden Reign Of The Queen Of Soul)
…because I try to be honest in these Top 5s, and I have barely listened to anything else during the last week...and Pete And The Pirates. Damn. Can I have a Top 6 this week?