IT'S THE first major binge gigging session of the year. Every January, those in the European music industry who still have a clue what's going on head to the northern Dutch town of Groningen for the Eurosonic festival.
Stumbling over cobblestones and dodging vicious packs of marauding cyclists, you too can join festival bookers, agents, journalists and broadcasters searching for fresh and exciting new musical talent.
There is nothing else on the European music business calendar which compares with Eurosonic. More than 240 acts cram into two dozen well- appointed venues located cheek by jowl on or off the city's main drag. These bands are in town primarily to impress reps from some 48 summer festivals throughout Europe, but there are also 30 different radio stations giving the event huge, Europe- wide coverage. It's a festival where acts who have the chops to play live get the best results.
There's always an Irish angle to Eurosonic, thanks to the long- standing and passionate involve- ment of 2FM's Ian Wilson. He ensures that the much-maligned station pays for a couple of bands to go out every year. This time around, you may be happy to know that part of your TV licence fee paid for Julie Feeney and Humanzi to travel to Eurosonic. Northern Irish acts Duke Special and The Answer also had Dutch berths for the weekend.
Feeney attracted a full house (with even more punters outside clamouring to get in) for her highly individual and absorbing choral pop, while there was enthusiastic chatter to be heard about the Duke's vaudeville turn and The Answer's user-friendly '70s rock stylings.
The quality of acts at the festival is usually extremely high. Just when you're fairly sure that no one could best the screaming, bluesy energy and sheen of Swedish duo Johnossi, you randomly wander into another room and are smitten by Danish moptops (and obvious Silver Apples fans) Oh No Ono with their alluring avant-garde electronic pop.
When a lead singer walks onstage and takes off her boots, you know she means business. Merja Kokkonen doesn't need furry boots to deliver Islaja's magnificent sounds. Instead, the barefoot Finnish singer and musician mesmerises the room with one ethereal symphony after another, as if PJ Harvey had joined Sigur Rós. You can understand why she was snapped up by Thurston Moore's Ecstatic Peace label.
The act who stopped the traffic this time out were Enter Shikari. You've probably already read plenty about the young British group's shotgun marriage of trance and emo, but nothing, and I mean nothing, can prepare you for witnessing them live. The amount of energy expanded in the first song alone stops you right in your tracks, while the exuberance and brightness of their hybrid sound is a tonic for jaded ears.
There was much to admire in both Tunng's slow-motion folk thrillers and the low-key, sultry epics crafted by Czech collective Please the Trees. The Delilahs introduced Inside Out as "a song about snotty noses", one of a number of bratty highlights from the all-girl Swiss act's arsenal of gobby, cheeky bubblegum punk swingers. From Lisbon, Dead Combo's guitars and pedals merged soulful fado melodies, dusty Morricone grooves and out-there klezmer notions into a Beruit-like sound which had a capacity audience sighing with delight.
The Italians were out in force to make the most of Eurosonic's focus on their country. During the day at the buzzing convention centre, seminars showed how the Italian market worked for both domestic and foreign acts. Zu were the most intriguing of the Italian live bunch, thanks to their adventurous free-jazz approach to hardcore's accepted idioms.
Naturally, there were some duds: I lasted about 27 seconds at Voltaire, a Polish folk-punk Sawdoctors featuring a lead singer in a red kilt. With so many bands playing, it's easy to cut your losses and move on. If you still think that nothing ever happens in January, get yourself to Groningen next year (www.eurosonic.nl).
