★★☆☆☆

There is nothing unique about Megan Trainor’s voice to justify her new popularity as a singer, and any character there might have been is removed by auto-tune. The album opens well with ‘The Best Part’, aptly named for it being a small highlight, making use of interesting harmonies. The infamous ‘All About That Bass’ that follows is an undeniably catchy number. It beats many of the other songs on the album which, lacking lyrical or melodic interest, resort to unnecessary key changes and instrumentation.

The lyrics of ‘All About That Bass’ have been praised by some for promoting a positive body image. I have to disagree. If the lyrics are properly listened to, they do not preach empowerment. Trainor explains that men don’t like “skinny bitches”, they like “a bit of booty to hold at night”. Confidence building? I think not. Indeed, in the song ‘Dear Future Husband’, Trainor sings a message of female passivity in ‘Dear Future Husband’, in which she begs him to “tell me everything is going to be alright” and to “buy me a ring”.

Lacking originality, I don’t expect Trainor will have a particularly long career as a performing artist. But perhaps I’m being too generous to music listeners today: maybe she is what we secretly all want to hear. That’s why she’s famous and many far more talented amateur pop musicians are not. Or am I just jealous? 

★★★★☆

Rae Morris’ debut album is long overdue, having been signed by Atlantic in 2012 and heralded as one of the sounds of 2015 by Radio 1 Introducing. Her upbringing in Blackpool is evident in Unguarded’s dark, melancholy feel – perfect to accompany a lone walk along the stormy pier.

The majority of the songs are slow and sad, which suits her breathy, mournful voice. Her first single, ‘Don’t Go’, is perhaps the most sorrowful. It is lyrically elegant, and would be ideal for those moments when you feel hopelessly sorry for yourself, and need a song to match your mood. The title track, ‘Unguarded’, carries the album forward, combining both the mournful and the more positive, showcasing another of Morris’ talents. These songs have the benefit of being romantically minded, with neither the sickly sweetness nor the dire heartache of other young singer/songwriters; striking that delicately poised balance.

However, there are also more catchy songs to hook in the listener – such as ‘Under the Shadows’ – which combine the familiar mournful voice with a more enthusiastic background beat, and ‘Cold’ sung with Fryars. The album would benefit from a sharper focus on the more interesting side of Morris shown in these two tracks, for it is slightly overcome by melancholy, but overall, it is a debut to be commended.

Los Campesinos! are the type of band that you have either never heard of, or are madly in love with. Those who have heard of them relish every new musical morsel with glee. Every key pressed on the synth evokes a swoon, and said fans have seen them live more times than some of their closest relatives. However, it would be a huge mistake to call their fanbase “small”. The band has toured the globe, playing dates stretching from South America to Australia, with fans on Tumblr screaming out for them to come and play their home town in far flung corners of the globe. Such a global fan base is an impressive feat for a band formed by mates at Cardiff University in 2006. Their first full-length album Hold On Now Youngster (2008) was met with high critical praise. Documenting tales of teenage heartbreak whilst retaining biting humour, many would say the album’s xylophone and violin filled annals still sound as great as when it was released seven years ago.

However, the band’s frontman Gareth Campesinos! is ambivalent towards the collection of songs written in his song-writing youth. “‘Matured’ is a pretentious word,” he says. “But I would say our song writing and musical ability has developed massively. There are some songs on the first album that I am still very fond of, and others where I feel like I was trying too hard while writing the lyrics. My greatest weakness as a lyricist over the first 18 months or so was a willingness to pre-empt what I thought people wanted to hear from our band. Subsequently, a lot of it is not particularly genuine or sincere. My main issue with the first album is that, in comparison to those which have followed, it sounds a terrible mess.” Yet, it is not just skills of individuals that have altered over the band’s career, but the individuals themselves. To date, four of the band’s original septet have left to pursue various other career paths.

Such a change in composition and dynamic could perfectly reasonably be a huge strain. However, in Gareth’s opinion, the lineup changes have had positive effects. “Every change that has occurred in the band’s line-up has improved us musically. But, more importantly, it has made us a tighter-knit unit. Los Campesinos! has always felt bigger than the sum of its parts, and when somebody has chosen to leave the band, it’s galvanised the rest of us to make us better than we were before, and we’ve achieved that every time.”

The band is undoubtedly a strong unit. But what is also refreshing to find is the individuals that make up the unit as a whole are grounded individuals living in the real world. The members each have full time day jobs, which has both positive and negative effects. “It’s both easy and hard balancing work and the band. When the band was full-time I felt huge guilt that I was earning a living from doing very little. I like working , and feeling like I’m contributing to something, but I also find it very hard to focus in on creative things sometimes. It’s difficult to find the free time to write, I suppose. As for choosing one over the other, the only choice that could be made was to concentrate on work, because to choose the band would be to choose to be broke, and that’s not really viable! Fortunately, we just about manage to keep both going.”

The fact that the band balances work, producing, and touring means that when live performances are forthcoming, they put their all into them. Gareth makes it clear how sincerely he and the band love playing to an audience of receptive fans screaming out their lyrics, and touring with emerging support bands. That is, as long as they are “Good people, good drinkers, and no[t] bigots.”

After five albums, where does any band turn next? As Gareth explains, “We’re very much at a crossroads. The pressure to earn a living through conventional work is unforgiving and leaves little time for us to write music, especially without the level of record label support we’ve had in the past. But we believe in the band more than we ever have, and we’ll start work on something soon.” 

Even in the modern age, Henry Purcell’s masterpiece of baroque opera Dido and Aeneas is simply sublime. When one listens to the pieces, they retain the same shimmering beauty as when first performed in 1692. Based on Virgil’s tragic romance occurring in Book Four of the Aeneid, it is arguably the best opera written in the English language. For an opera with such a short running time, it has a huge reputation, which only makes producing the damn thing even harder!

It is true, the St Peter’s cast and crew have taken on a huge mouthful of English classical music. But from the previewed material, they clearly have the stomach for it – and their ambitious selves could handle even more, if offered seconds. Walking in at Act II, I am greeted by a deliciously wicked performance of the Sorceresses plotting Dido’s downfall. The sheer glee as the contorted bodies of the Witches writhe while they sing their plans in ‘But Ere We This Perform’ is a pleasure to watch. As Act II progresses, it becomes clear how strong the chorus is as part of the production; their beautiful harmonies are flawless. They are an integral part of the production, becoming both props and players to the unfolding drama around them.

But the figure who impressed the most was that of the tragic icon, Dido (played by Rachel Coll). The role is intense, an emotional roller-coaster for any singer or actress, yet she succeeds in capturing her character and voice. Coll’s rendition of ‘Ah Belinda, I am pressed with Torment’ is heart-shattering. Her voice wraps around each sorrowful note perfectly, her diction is perfect. But it is not just her voice which deserves praise. Her expressions perfectly capture the emotional torment of her character. Her performance of ‘Dido’s Lament’ holds the room with a captivating sorrow, an almost-whisper falling into the heart-crashing final lines (‘Remember me, But forget my fate’). Her performance is, in short, flawless and tragic without being melodramatic.

The production promises to be awe-inspiring. As I am led around St Peter’s Chapel, where the opera will be staged, it becomes clear how ambitious the production team are. With 95 per cent of the cast sourced from within the College choir alone, and with only a week and a half of rehearsals it is clear how talented both the production team and cast are. I desperately plead that anyone and everyone go to see this immensely promising production. 

This Saturday, St. Hilda’s Jacqueline du Pré building will be hosting a charity concert that any Oxonian with a spare moment should attend. Combining the talents of the entire established Oxford jazz and funk scene, the concert will feature The Oxford Gargoyles, The New Men and Dot’s Funk Odyssey (DFO).

What can you expect, musically? The Gargoyles most recently advanced to the grand finals of the BBC’s Choir of the Year competition, which comes at no surprise given the group’s high energy, innovative a cappella has been a staple of the European scene since the late 1990s. The Gargoyles might be at their strongest when performing standards from the American songbook, from which they will undoubtedly draw upon, having partly built its fame with intricate 5-6 part arrangements of ‘How High the Moon’ and Glenn Miller’s swing classic ‘In the Mood’. The power of the Gargoyles’ music, however, lies in its effortless groove, infectious joy and tireless versatility. A cheeky jazz interpretation of the ‘Magnificat’ is easily juxtaposed with a hymn-like rendition of Billy Joel’s ballad ‘And So It Goes’.

The New Men are the only Oxford a cappella group that trumps The Oxford Gargoyles in pure musicianship. The ensemble of New College choral scholars is set to become a new a cappella powerhouse as they deepen their commitment to live performances. The group has a rare ability to introduce lush harmony to even the most mundane of compositions. Boasting a former Out of the Blue member, George Robarts, The New Men have turned their attention to poppy tunes that cannot fail to put a smile on your face. As Sasha Ockenden, a fourth year who has also sung with The Gargoyles admits, “the repertoire is a way for classical musicians to release their inner pop goddess.” For Saturday, be on the look-out for Tom Lowen’s bass solo on ‘What a Wonderful World’ and a fun rendition of Fountain of Wayne’s ‘Stacy’s Mom’.

Finally, Dot Funk’s Odyssey promise to brighten up your day with the best funk and soul in Oxford. If you were fortunate enough to see them break the house down in Cellar recently, you might want to enjoy this opportunity to see them without the byproducts of sweatiness and claustrophobia. With strong vocalists—Selali Fiamanya will steal you heart—and impeccable instrumental arrangements, DFO will give you your much-needed fix of happy music.

And the best part? Your £5 ticket will go straight towards saving lives in Madagascar. Doctors for Madagascar (DFM), founded in 2011 by a group of German doctors, sends doctors and equipment to the south of Madagascar, where the only surgical hospital in an area of about a million people is in dire need of funds. A life-saving surgery in terms of essential equipment and medication is approximately £50: there may have never been a better reason to jazz up your Saturday.

Buy tickets: www.tinyurl.com/madajazz

Facebook event: www.tinyurl.com/musicformada

Charity: www.doctorsformadagascar.com

★★★★☆

Four Stars

There is something undeniably refreshing about the originality of Potosí, the new student-written two-hander being performed at the BT Studio this week. Set entirely in an untidy bedroom, it presents the rambling pillow-talk of two young, gay lovers. This is not a covers-up, nighties-on comedy in the vein of Ayckbourn’s Bedroom Farce, however; it is an authentic portrayal of two strangers exploring each other, both mentally and physically.

Matthew (Tom Pease) and James (Shrai Popat), as eventually becomes clear, have just met on a night out and returned to Matthew’s flat in drunken desire. As they lounge around in post-coital lethargy, periodically dropping off and reawakening, they begin to talk. Their conversation meanders between the predictable and the unexpected, the banal and the poignant, until late in the play, when events elsewhere precipitate more ostensibly dramatic action.

Writer and co-director Jonathan Oakman deserves enormous credit for the evocative realism of his writing. In James and Matthew’s conversation, he captures that recognisable tone of young lovers simultaneously trying to impress and confide. There is a tangible atmosphere of hopeful excitement, of confused bliss that, far from being transcendent, is fundamentally relatable. It speaks of potential and, above all else, youthful innocence.

And it’s funny. Matthew’s dry remarks contrast well with James’ attempts at sincerity. Pease has wonderfully natural comic timing, and it has found its perfect platform in this cocoon of lazy chatter. Even when the play approaches more serious issues (homophobia, parents, identity), it does so with a frankness and an honesty that engages, rather than isolates.

Yet this play is not spoken in a language purely of words; physical interaction matters just as much as conversation and the playfulness Pease and Popat display is truly praiseworthy. They tousle each other’s hair and kiss each other’s noses, straddle each other and lay their heads on each other’s laps. This physicality compliments their conversation perfectly, reflecting their half-confessed interest in one another and proving an imaginative way to maintain the audience’s attention.

Perhaps Potosí would have less impact upon an older audience. The various musings on identity, parents, and relationships would perhaps touch poignancy more often for an audience of confused University students. Indeed, at times, the direction of the two lovers’ conversation seems contrived enough to provoke an unwelcome reactionary cynicism, but this happens only on occasion, and is soon swept away by the fluidity of Pease and Popat’s performances.

The play’s greatest asset is its intimacy. Surrounding a thrust stage on three sides, the audience intrudes, almost voyeuristically, into the extremely private moments of James and Matthew’s relationship. The technical direction emphasises this intrusion. Music is not played through speakers, but through Matthew’s phone; the lighting varies, reflecting the mood, as does Tom Stafford’s original score.

Potosí has no pretensions to grandeur. It makes no discernible social or political statement, but rather glories in the celebration of the seemingly ordinary. It thrusts the audience into the intimate moments of a cautiously burgeoning relationship, revealing something tender, quintessentially human, and not the slightest bit ordinary after all.