With the latest issue of Q boasting an exclusive Absolute Radio sessions CD featuring the likes of Coldplay, Wild Beasts and Mumford & Sons, we spoke to one of the band’s following in their footsteps at a recording at the station yesterday (4 November).
Just before London band recorded Dexters recorded an exclusive session for Absolute Radio with StubHub!, we sat down with singer Tom Rowlett to find out what happens on session day. Listen now.
Meanwhile get Q341 now for the exclusive Absolute Radio Sessions CD – here’s the tracks that feature on the CD.
This full-blooded reading of the Londoners’ debut single delivers on Marcus Mumford’s description of the song as one “that grabs you a little bit by the balls”.
A version that strips away the orchestra but none of the power.
With just an acoustic guitar, a shake of the maracas and some harmonies, the angular Scots retain the compelling dancefloor stomp of their Top 3 single.
Coldplay’s string-driven tract on the concept of eternal damnation becomes something far more personal in the hands of Chris Martin alone at his piano.
Jarvis ups the deadpan on this rendition of the sexual awakening drama that began as some chords erroneously played by Pulp drummer Nick Banks.
There aren’t any better songs that reference European Cup winners Red Star Belgrade in the context of modern sexuality. And there aren’t many better versions than this.
There’s a little more slink to the groove in this stripped-back, slowed-down reading of the libidinous boogie that opens the Paisley soul boy’s third album Caustic Love.
Hail the first use of a melodica on this CD as Leicester’s finest tear through an acoustic reworking of their 2009 gem in spaghetti-western psychedelia and biggest hit to date.
Not a song the trio played lightly. In 2007, Simon Neil said this ode to his late mother was not something he was sure he could ever play live. A raw, stunning highlight of their Absolute Radio session.
An intimate, guitar-and-vocals repurposing of the band’s 1997 Top 10 single. Here, Brett Anderson further draws out the absorbing melancholy within his study of living for the weekend.
This is perhaps the most radical reworking on the CD. An urgent, baggy floorfiller becomes a gentle folk song that you can quietly shed a tear to.
Captain Rock retools a 1997 Verve single. “We never tore down the great things we’d built up by becoming too familiar,” he says. Accordingly, this is a new, starker spin on an old classic.
The Sheffield balladeer sounds even more vulnerable and unsure on this brilliant, restrained take on his 2005 examination of the consequences of life on the road.
Not to be limited by cosy radio studios, Natasha Khan brought a harmonium, marxophone and pianochord with her – which means this lo-fi take is as ornate and dramatic as the original.
The Kendal art-rockers’ harmonic discourse on modern courtship rituals loses none of its beguiling spirit for being shed of its pounding drums and shimmering synths and guitars.