Chimpomatic

Elvis Perkins

Elvis Perkins In Dearland

XL

Mr Perkins opened his first long player - Ash Wednesday - with the immense and emotional ‘While You Were Sleeping’. It’s so good that on listening back it dwarfs the rest of the songs. Second time round and the overall quality and craftsmanship have been taken up a notch or two and the collection feels more rounded, more varied, more interesting to the ear.

This seems to be down to Elvis being joined by, or, as the title of the album suggests, himself becoming a member of his live backing band – Dearland. Whereas last time round it was more about one man and his guitar, the lads from Dearland have brought as many instruments as they have ideas to the party. From the off you can feel that its much more than just one persons work. A broader range of styles, sounds and influences are drawn upon.

“On this new record we wanted to capture the spirit of our performances,” drummer Nick Kinsey said. And that they seem to do. The vim, vigor and energy that weren’t always present on Ash Wednesday, but appeared from nowhere on stage are present throughout the whole album. Even on the darker, introspective numbers the collective creativity has brought more punch and power to the poetic and prophetic verse penned by Perkins.

While on the opening song Elvis sings “black is the colour of a squashed rainbow” (which called to mind the manically depressed painter from The Fast Show) - it sounds like having the company has cheered Elvis up a bit. In the excellent ‘Doomsday’ - a title which hints he might be at his gloomiest - he triumphantly shouts: “I won’t plan to die. Nor should you!”

To paraphrase The Dude, it seems like he’s not really into the whole brevity thing - as some songs seem to linger longer than perhaps they need to. Though, that could just be me. I’ve been listening to the Minutemen a lot of late.

Putting that aside, this album is certainly a step forward rather than simply more of the same. It’s good and I like it. So there.

Three Songs to Spotify:
I Heard Your Voice in Dresden
Send My Fond Regards to Lonelyville
Doomsday

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#Locochimpo

10th Mar 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Titus Andronicus

The Airing Of Grievances

XL Recordings

If the year 2009 was a person and one of your mates he'd be a right bore. He'd be constantly broke, sighting the credit crunch at every given opportunity - and he'd probably spend most of his time dreaming up ways to shaft you of all your money. Now if The Airing Of Grievances - the debut album from Titus Andronicus - was also one of your mates, he'd have blugeoned 2009 by now, dumped his lifeless corpse into landfill. Not for the reason that he's a diehard optimist - far from it - in fact, he'd be a vicious little fucker, but he just wouldn't stand for any of this namby-pamby fear mongering that goes on and so far The Airing Of Grievances is the only album to kick the broke ass of 2009 firmly and squarely between its limp little cheeks.

Here are some facts, Titus Andronicus are 5 guys from a small town called Glen Rock in New Jersey, a safe suburban enclave to the west of New York City. The Airing Of Grievances is their debut album following a pair of 7" singles and an early EP, it's got 9 tracks, its 45 minutes long and it's fucking brilliant.

If only I could stop there, but in order to justify my massive wage packet I must go on. The Airing Grievances is essentially a punk record but it's way more complicated than that. It's a pit-bull that thinks it's an alsatian, a punk record that thinks it's an Explosions In The Sky record. At times It can sound like Conor Oberst fronting The Wedding Present and at others it could be No Age fronting the E Street Band. It's supremely muscular and feral and yet highly sophisticated. Singer and chief songwriter Patrick Stickles has a voice like a bandsaw cutting through sheet metal, it's almost constantly out of tune and really couldn't give a shit and it stands proud in front of a deafening wall of sound that is the rest of the band. As in all music it's the relationship between this voice and this sound that holds the key to the albums success. Stickles can morph his voice into a blunt instrument of such power and venom as if it's his only way of smashing through this wall of guitar breeze-blocks that constantly towers above him.

From the opening "Fuck You" howl of Fear And Loathing In Mahwah, NJ this record pummels relentlessly, it's massive musical structure rising slowly like a great city being raised from the oceans depths. Each song adds something different to the mix with this huge sound receding to allow room for punctuating guitar work on Fear And Loathing or the driving rhythm of My Time Outside The Womb. Joset Of Nazereth's Blues balances this might with Springsteen style harmonica while the title track foams at the mouth as Stickles spits the mantra "You're life Is over" repeatedly and eventually being joined by the rest of the band for a climactic finale. But it's the two tracks that follow that this record has been building up to. No Future, Pt 1 and No Future, Pt 2 The Days After No Future transform this record from a fiercely original punk pop album to something stella. They play out as one track and together stretch out over more than 14 minutes. It's one of the only times in the record that the tempo slows down and allows a brief breather. But as Pt 1 builds from this breather like a far off wave it drops into Pt. 2 and all hell breaks loose. Massive instrumental juggernaughts speed off at great speed and really open up the album into something magnificently ambitious.

The track lengths grow as the album progresses and so does the confidence. Stickles' vocals stand shoulder to shoulder with the awesome sound that props it up. He howls, screeches and moans over these huge riffs but always sounds raw and unhinged. The whole record sounds like a basement punk tape while effortlessly stretching out over enormous ground. It's this odd juxtaposition that defines their success. As Stickles shrieks on the title track "No more cigarettes, no more having sex, no more drinking till you fall on the floor, no more indie-rock, just a ticking clock," The Airing Of Grievances is a calamitous voice of doom and with a pounding fist draws a line under much of the music I've heard in a long time.

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#BC

25th Feb 2009 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Guns 'N Roses

Chinese Democracy

Polydor

So it's finally a reality, the album no one, least of all Dr. Pepper (that's not what a company needs in a credit crunch), thought would ever materialise. But it has and as expected it has brought with it the tidal wave of opinions that accompany every move Axl Rose makes. Listening to, and to a much greater extent, forming an opinion about Chinese Democracy is damn near impossible while employing your regular critical faculties. It's hard to compare it to previous Guns N' Roses material, seeing as their last studio album was 17 years ago and Axl is the only original member left. And Axl's dominating presence on the record is the only thing linking it to the previous work, as musically it is a different band all together and fiercely contemporary. It would be a different story if Axl had disappeared for 14 years and now reemerged with a comeback album in order to pay some bills, but as we all know that is not the case here. By all accounts he hasn't done anything else but make this record for 14 years, so to review it is like reviewing history and seeing as I am a long way from where I was 14 years ago it's hard to know if I'm disappointed in Chinese Democracy or if I lost interest in its concept a long time ago.

With this record Axl Rose reveals himself as the Colonel Kurtz of the rock world, or actually of the whole world. Lost long ago, way up the river of obsession and self-delusion, he works beyond the boundaries of reason endlessly creating things that mirror himself. In this likeness comes Chinese Democracy, drifting out of the mist from a place no man has gone, a bloated monstrosity so impressive in size and construction and displaying elements of genius but often swaying with uneasy insecurities. And like Joseph Conrad's character you stare back at him with awe, dazzled by the ambition but all the time filled with terror at the mind that could conceive of such a creation.

Excess has always followed Axl Rose both in his music and his lifestyle. Use Your Illusion was flawed, but few have managed to pull off the double album like he did back in 1991. It too was an over-ambitious project that was filled with fat, over-stuffed, gluttonous songs that aimed for the stars with every note. They often failed but it was hard to fault a band that had produced such perfect punk-rock ferocity in Appetite For Destruction only to set a rocket under all that and change forever what any fan had thought or appreciated about them before. All the signs were there that this was going to be a vastly out of proportion project. Axl has always tended towards the epic and with songs like November Rain and Estranged we saw his gigantic vision expressed, but then with songs like Coma we saw how it could all get out of hand. It's no surprise then that left to his own devices and devoid of the more direct guidance of Izzy Stradlin and Duff McKagan that Axl would be free to express his tendency to swell each song out of all proportion and cram as many elements into every second of his sound. This is the main critisism here but then it was always going to be.

Underneath the colossal weight of production you can hear some great songwriting. The title track opens the album with some force and with his Mr. Brownstone growl, Axl reinstates himself in our lives and it's good to have him back. As expected, Better is the high point of the album. It's a real powerhouse of a song and shows us how far this songwriter has brought his sound and yet at the same time shows glimpses of the feral energy that got us all hooked in the first place. It also shows how different the guitar playing is now compared to the melodic skyward playing of Slash. It's much harder on this record and the way the guitars chug with the force of a freight train on Better affirms that this is a totally different band than before. Shackler's Revenge sees the same guitar train chug but then unravels into an epileptic guitar solo the like of which this band have never provided in the past. Then there's the impressive Catcher In The Rye or the bewildering Street Of Dreams...enough...this has to stop. Having scratched the surface of what makes this record work I see before me, in my mental landscape, a vast chasm of points I feel the need to express, this must be what Axl lives with on a daily basis, and much like this records history any reviewer faces the same temptation to keep writing and writing. So with that in mind I move swiftly and brutally on to the concluding paragraph.

Ultimately, Chinese Democracy poses more questions on its arrival than it did as a myth. All the way through I find myself scratching my head in puzzlement at some of the bizarre twists and turns that Axl takes his band through. But I don't know if this confusion is down to the fact that I too am 14 years older. My formative years were spent with this band blasting in my ears and I can't say that I was chomping at the bit to get another taste. Few things on this earth are worth waiting such a long time for, except maybe actual Chinese Democracy, so now that it is here I can't say I am disappointed, all I can say is that I don't think I really like it but I do think that it's pretty good. The bright light that is Axl Rose has in no way dimmed as a result of this release, it hasn't tarnished the moments of perfection that soundtracked my younger days and all-in-all it's a very impressive event.

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#BC

24th Nov 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Friendly Fires

Friendly Fires

XL Recordings

This infectious debut from the St Albans trio was overlooked at first by my discerning ears, but has slowly seeped into my consciousness and is now a regular feature in my life. I think the initial reason for its rejection was its obvious references and slightly annoying upbeat jaunt. Taking their influences from mainstream dance sounds, 80's new wave, German techno and the classic pop hooks of Prince they make a sound that fuses expansive shoegaze indie sensibilities with driving beats and the result is surprisingly interesting.

Lyrically they are hardly taking by the throat the more weighty topics that challenge us today - themes of jumping in a pool and dreaming about moving to Paris are among some of the issues addressed here - but this hardly matters. Front man Ed Macfarlane's vocals soar like blazing rockets over the lush, synth-washed sonic background. On stage he shakes and gyrates spasmodically with top button firmly fastened on his crisp shirt like a modern day Ian Curtis, but he controls much of the synth sounds and forms the epicenter of this formation. They seem to do what Bloc Party used to do but without the contrived self-awareness. With tales of losing yourself on the dancefloor, many of the songs cleverly reference some classic pillars of house music. On Board is the most blatant as it begins with what could be a TV On The Radio sound but feeds in the baseline from The Source feat Candi Staton's You've Got The Love, while later on Skeleton Boy has the subverted feel of 90's dance hit You're Not Alone.

The longevity of an album such as this remains in question. Music that makes you feel this good must be full of evil trickery that will eventually reveal itself and leave the spell broken - but for now, I'm lovin' it.

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19th Nov 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Juana Molina

Un Dia

Domino

Juana Molina's fifth album opens with the line, "Undia voy a cantar las canciones sin letra y cada uno podra imaginar si hablo de amor, de desilusion, banalidades o sobre platon." And for those of you who don't know, this translates as, "One day I will sing the songs with no lyrics and everyone can imagine for themselves if it's about love, disappointment, banalities or about Plato." You don't have to dig too deep into this record or even speak her language to understand that she is well on the way to this goal. Un Dia is clearly the result of some pretty ruthless examination of her past work as here, Molina pulls out certain elements that previously lay hidden and fades other's expertly into the background. The two factors to which I refer are the emergence of rhythm and the receding of the vocals. The rhythm and pulse of this music is key and as each groove and beat writhe over and inside eachother, Molina's minimal and whispered, repeated vocals become just another tool for this truly mesmeric and seductive sound. Un Dia is as uncompromising and mesmeric as some of the finest work by Japanese experimental artist Susumu Yokota and not since Joanna Newsom's Ys have I heard such a fiercely original record.

Describing the rhythm in her previous work as being "like a hidden layer in Photoshop," the aim with Un Dia was to bring to the forefront something that had previously been obvious to her but not to others. This rhythm, being played out on wood, cymbal, gentle acoustic guitar and bombo leguero and woven from delicate electronic glitches produces trance-like compositions that slowly gather momentum, taking on more instruments with every revolution until they swirl around your head in a magical frenzy. Molina's voice is heavily sampled and looped creating a complex mesh of repetition that is at the heart of this trance. It's incredibly seductive music but not in a Siren sort of way. The seduction occurs by the sheer weight of sound that rises up before you and the unrelenting endurance of it. Most of these songs surpass the seven minute mark and all build on an initial rhythm and maintain this to the end, gathering a throng of support along the way. And yet it all plays out with the lightest of touches.

With opener and title track Un Dia, Molina's voice is so distant as are the numerous instruments that, as the song progresses, it feels like you are being slowly surrounded by sound. The expert production allows each sound to, in turn, loom out of this impenetrable ring and approach your ear. Some of these compositions are quite unrelenting and refuse to give the listener what they want. This works out to be the ultimate success but the songs that build to what can very loosely be described as a pay-off are simply dazzling. Vive Solo begins with quiet acoustic strums and Molina's voice assumes angelic simplicity. The gentle clap of the rhythm creeps in and this builds the tempo with incredible subtlety until Molina's breathy deliveries evolve into almost horn-like tone and sound out like an instrument of another planet. Los Hingos De Marosa follows a similar structure laying down complexly woven textures of electronic chirps that are eventually punctuated with Molina's blissful voice.

Whether dancing playfully around the rhythm or swirling with nagging endurance Molina evolves and contorts her voice to fit the organic sounds that surround it and its captivation lies in its ability to greet you with the most human of touches and also behave in truly otherworldly ways. Her use of voice-as-instrument here has created a restless, magical, narcotic master piece.

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19th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Cool Kids

The Bake Sale EP

XL Recordings

Here we have 2 teenagers from Chicago rocking fly gold chains and cheap NWA type sports hats, who assume a pastiche of a bygone era of 80's hip hop so brazenly that you'll question why you love it so much, but love it you will. Mikey Rocks and Chuck Inglish give us their debut release The Bake Sale EP, a ten track collection of stripped down, minimal beats that form the sturdy foundation for their well crafted rhymes that cover girls, bikes and breakfast cereal and all that lies in between. The english language is expertly broken down into a series of syllables that are piled on top of one another like kids building blocks. The simplicity of their delivery and subject matter disguise their complex arrangements forcing multiple plays and before you know it this EP will be under your skin.

Opener What Up Man opts for the spoken beat with rhythm being formed of the words tick, tick, clap, tick, tick, bass. It's like a DIY, Ikea flat-pack song that unfolds and dazzles with its blatant simplicity. Lead single 88 taps the retro vein with shameless confidence as does Gold And A Pager which takes its lead lyric from Ice Cubes NWA line "Fuckin' with me cause I'm a teenager, with a little bit of gold and a pager." With the deep clap beats this tune is methodical and clinical in its delivery but while assuming this plodding pace you can really take your time to marvel at the complexity of this groups writing. Bassment Party takes its influence from a Miami Bass rhythm and picks up the pace perfectly but still refrains from over complicating things.

"We're the new black version of the Beastie Boys," claim this band and that group's album Paul's Boutique is certainly brought to mind here. This ain't rocket science, it's clever, but humble about it - which makes for a dazzlingly simple album that while nodding blatantly to the past comes across as effortlessly now. Hip hop bands that take their influence from the old school tread a perilous road that soon runs out of steam. We all love the old school but it evolved for a reason and the Cool Kids inject enough of their own contemporary ideas into their sound to separate their fate from the likes of Jurassic 5. The Bake Sale is a refreshing debut indeed and one that will surely be on this reviewer's top 5 list come Christmas.

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#HHG

19th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Ratatat

LP3

XL Recordings

LP3 is the follow up to 2006's Classics and unlike its predecessor it was recorded in a very short space of time. Mike Stroud and Evan Mast recorded LP3 at Old Soul Studios, a large old house in a the small town of Catskill in upstate New York, and this change of venue has had a significant effect on the Ratatat sound, sort of. Though the core qualities remain intact there is a much fuller emphasis on keyboards and live instrumentation rather than programmed beats. All this is layered over their trademark swathes of synths and complex beat arrangements to form a rich tapestry indeed. The problem is, all this occurs in the first half of the album and is soon forgotten by the time we get to the end.

Mi Viejo uses delightful percussion over delicate guitar conjuring images of mysterious far off lands and as it plays out with a bongo drum solo it fades into Mirando, another complex amalgamation of swirling organs and rich percussion. Whereas Classics relied on guitar as its main sound, LP3 embraces a much wider array of musical instruments and sources from the hand-clap-like beat of Imperials to the skipping piano of Brulee. These touches raise the first half from the rest and see them standing proud as beacons of a way forward.

The beats do occasionally slip into synthesized obscurity that often flattens the record out and forces many of the songs into the background. Instrumental bands such as this have to work hard to raise each song from the sea of beats that sits stagnant below and without doing this many of these songs can slip by unnoticed. Songs like Dura and Shempi are well crafted but fail to move the sound on from the other albums and while retaining a core sound across records is admirable if little is brought to the table in terms of new thought, an unmemorable 40 minutes can slip by quite easily. I am not saying that is the case here but the key points where the listener is alerted all seem to happen in the first half with the rest of the record trailing off into mediocrity. The same guitar/organ swirl permeates nearly every song and threatens to bury all the delicate complexities that delight during the early stages. By the time we get to the album closer Black Heroes the band themselves seem bored and ready to finish which is in direct contrast to how they started, both on this record and their career in general.

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11th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Beck

Modern Guilt

XL/Interscope

Beck teams up with Danger Mouse for his most satisfying album for a while. Much less jokey and random, Modern Guilt is like looking through a digital kaleidescope at the 60s; nostalgic, but not lost in that preserve-the-Beatle-dust sensibility you get in a lot of retro projects. Think Caribou with some tunes.

Ten tight songs of densely-packed psychedelia, upbeat Stax rhythms and fuzzbox guitars that all wraps up at a very compact 30 minutes (why is it that the dawn of the "compact disc" ushered in the age of the anything-but compact album?). This is a set of songs so short you immediately want to play the whole thing again; when was the last time you felt like that?

Single Chemtrails is a dreamy ode to planes with some great drum-fills, Gamma Ray grooves along at a dancey pace and album closer Volcano brings things to a finish with a melancholy dusting-off of some of Beck's trademark questioning: "I don't know if it's my illusions that keep me alive."

Danger Mouse seems to be having a busy time at the moment - Gnarls Barkley came back, and he's also been behind the desk for the Shortwave Set, The Good, The Bad and The Queen and Martina Topley Bird's new one The Blue God. He's obviously on a roll, but the work rate hasn't taken its toll.

If you haven't taken the Beck train for a while, this is a short ride worth hopping back on board for.

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#chimp71

8th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Tapes 'n' Tapes

Walk It Off

XL Recordings

Like Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, the success story of Tapes 'N Tapes was born amidst the constant hum of the blogosphere. Their 2006 debut The Loon came out to rapturous praise with its infectious pop hooks and set up quite some expectation for their next move. CYHSY's answer to this expectation was with two fingers as they delivered Some Loud Thunder, a difficult and curious followup that stubbornly refused to accommodate the strengths that may have arisen from their debut. By hiring the producer of Some Loud Thunder, Dave Fridmann, TnT seem to be only too aware of these comparisons and though the result is not the same they too have delivered a curious sophomore effort.

From the outset it's clear this Minneapolis 4 piece intend to raise the stakes as Le Ruse screeches in to view and Josh Grier's vocals ride a wave of crashing cymbals and calamitous riffs. The increased might in the music and venom in the vocal delivery is an instant plus point but all this is shrouded in a curious muffled production that you instantly start to doubt your equipment. The opening track on Some Loud Thunder had me perplexed in the same way to the point where I now find it unlistenable. Headshock shows the same underproduction with the bass line that thunders at the chorus threatening to obliterate any recognition that might have come with the melody. Blunt does the same thing as it builds to a deafening concoction of drums and driving guitars and as you strain to hear the rumbling bass line your patience starts to fray.

Though this lo-fi quality lurks in pretty much every corner of this record the more melodic numbers manage to escape its blight. The slow-to-build Time Of Songs chimes with a wonderful clarity with Grier's melancholic mumble "I'll pull you from the bottom and i'll leave you on the floor." Say Back Something is a welcome break with it's down-tempo strums while Lines shuffles along at an uncharacteristically lazy pace until the military rhythm and taught guitars start to build to Grier's repeated vocal, "Over lines." This song sees an intelligent structure that is sometimes lacking in other songs like the slightly limp wristed Anvil.

But pretentious production aside, two of the strongest tracks on the record come in the form of Hang Then All and the album closer The Dirty Dirty. Hang Them All shows this bands ability to deliver a hook. It's a tense whirlwind of a song full of swirling organ and clipped, punchy guitars. As is often the case in this record Grier's tight lipped vocals build things to a head with the rousing, repeated chorus bringing the song to a rapturous close. Walk It Off is an exciting run and no matter how trying the going is you'll be glad you stuck it out when you get to The Dirty Dirty. It's the longest song on the album and it takes this band into new territory. Rumbling guitars and relentless drums give it a steady, driving pace which never lets up. Grier's vocals are deadpan and refuse to rise above the tone set by the rhythm. The song actually goes nowhere and continues at this formation until eventually fading out making it a questionable choice for the final track, but as questions were heavily on the agenda from the start here it seems a fitting way to finish.

The introduction of pillar after pillar of load-bearing riffs makes this follow-up a brave step forward. It's not breaking down any new musical frontiers but expands on the strengths of their debut nicely ...but just as I start to get excited about it the question of production undoes it's trousers and urinates on my fire. Bands like The Wedding Present recorded some of their best works with obvious production deficiencies but now that technology has improved their sound has benefitted enormously. As with CYHSY, this band have everything at their fingertips and with such credits as Mogwai and Mercury Rev to his name, Dave Fridmann is a master of his craft - so the insistence on this lo-fi style smacks of pretension and ultimately drags this otherwise promising and gutsy record down.

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#BC

7th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Mars Volta

The Bedlam in Goliath

Whatever your views on the current state of the music industry, the very existence of The Mars Volta is proof-solid that something must be going right. This is a band with a manifesto so far outside of the mainstream and so removed from what's currently hip, that it's some kind of miracle that they even get to record, let alone tour, release lavishly packaged albums and sell a million records.

If you've never checked them out, this is their fourth full-length album and it adheres to their highly individual sound - there's no getting away from it - this is progressive rock. A musical form so utterly derided by the music press, and dismissed by the majority of listeners under the age of 40, that one might think that no-one would ever attempt to fly a Roger Dean flagpole up their mast ever again. And with good reason:- progressive rock from the 70's was predominantly British, a bit public school and generally a turgid plod through some half-arsed attempts at musical originality. Thankfully, the only real musical heritage from this era is the influence of King Crimson at their most densely harrowing. What the Mars Volta have is energy and pace - and the new album is demonically charged, travelling over jumpy time signatures with an unstoppable drive. I have heard them described as prog-punk - a tag so oxymoronic that I laughed when I heard it, and yet it is a punk attitude which gives the prog such a maniacal thrust.

This is a stronger album than last year's (also excellent) Amputechture by dint of the fact that it delivers more bite-sized nuggets of Volta madness in smaller digestible chunks. It's quite riff heavy, and generally played at a breakneck pace. New permament drummer Thomas Pridgen has his work cut out for him, and sounds like he's enjoying every sweaty minute of it. There's a lot of voice processing applied to Cedric Bixler-Zavala's voice, which could easily scare off the faint-hearted. Omar Rodriguez-Lopez's guitar playing burns red-hot, and where the band hit some big latino vamps for him to work-out over, he comes across like Frank Zappa rather than Carlos Santana.

Intense, spooky and totally mental. UK Live shows coming up in March.

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#HarrisPilton

7th Feb 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Vampire Weekend

Vampire Weekend

XL

29 days into 2008 and it's here. Sound the horn to call in your spies, the search is over. We may be a week late, but the first second great record of this year is upon us and that's not just yet another NME prediction of greatness, this is the official Chimp opinion - and we're strict here. Cast your mind back to 2001 and your excitement at hearing The Strokes' debut Is This It. It wasn't an altogether new sound gracing your ears, it's musical reference points were unashamedly obvious but it represented a departure from the current music du jour that was gripping the scene. Well, Vampire Weekend is the self titled debut from this New York 4 piece and it sounds nothing like The Strokes but they are bedfellows for more profound reasons. It represents a similar departure and ironically enough this departure could be seen as the breakaway from the trend that Is This It started. The Strokes kick started a return to grimy indie bands belting out simple, well crafted guitar music and we've seen very little else ever since. Vampire Weekend do the opposite. Yes they're an indie 4 piece from New York but their sound reaches far wider and their references are refreshingly varied.

Gentle Afro-rhythms combine with cheap organs, jaunty drum beats and a vocal style so relaxed and unassuming it all makes for easy listening in the best possible way. Although Talking Heads does vaguely come to mind the rest of the reference points are rarely seen in today's indie scene. Paul Simon, The Police and Ski Sunday spring to mind and like someone who has drawn a head on a piece of paper, folded it over and passed it on for the next person to draw the body all these odd parts unfold into an astonishingly complete whole. If you're the type that needs genres to aid your musical appreciation fear not as the boys have done the work for you describing their sound as 'Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa,' and 'Upper West Side Soweto.' It's Paul Simon but with Chevy Chase at his side keeping things light.

The other reason The Strokes' debut has been twinned with this one is the ease by which it seems to have been born. Songs like Oxford Comma with it's lounge-act style keyboards or the pogoing funk guitars of A-Punk drip forth like melting wax, nothing seems forced and no one seems to give a shit if it works or not. With a varied choice of themes like English grammar, preferred bus routs or American preppie fashion this is not your average record about love and loss. M79 is where my Ski Sunday reference crops up. Starting off with courtly 18th century harpsichord then slipping into a chorus of chamber music, this really shouldn't work. M79 is named after a Manhattan bus route which only adds to the confusion as this song evokes more cultures than is healthy in just over 4 minutes. The hymnal-meets-tribal thunder of I Stand Corrected shows a slightly more serious string to the bow and it leads on brilliantly to Walcott, the figurehead of this record. It's a furious steel-drum carnival of a song. Crashing cymbals and soaring melodies carry the repeated 'don't you want to get out of Cape Cod' chorus to new heights. It's dazzling and a shame it doesn't finish the album.

Vampire Weekend is good because it isn't trying to be good and it's different for the same reason. Not once do you get the impression that these world-rhythms and mismatched instruments have been employed because no one else has done it recently. It's effortless and it's joyously unaware of itself. We'll have to wait and see how the ultimate judge of time treats this little gem. These are simple pop songs and it's hard to say whether some may fall by the wayside but right now their simplicity and charm is exactly what we need. Their creativity and wealth of ideas is such that one listen to Vampire Weekend will get your mouth watering for their next album. Bring it on. This world needs more Ski Sunday-Afro Pop.

#Music
#BC

4th Feb 2008 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Metros/Holy Ghost Revival/The Draytones/The View

1965 Records Xmas Party, ULU, London

For a label that has only been going for a couple of years, 1965 Records have built up quite a stable of bands, and with the success of The View's debut album Hats Off To The Buskers, quite a following. What better then, than a Xmas knees-up to put those bands on show? Taking over the whole of the University of London Union, the party kicked off at 4pm running right through till gone 11 with DJ's and stand-up comedy, plus live performances from all the major bands on the label.

With The Monks Kitchen seemingly imploding just before blast off, plus our own late arrival things got started with 80's comedian Frank Sidebottom, before new signings The Metros stepped info their live set. A boundless, energetic live show got the crowd buzzing and  they clearly already have a substantial following worshiping their every move. The cheeky upstart from South London thing may have seen done before, but there is little doubt that these guys are the real deal - and with a catalogue of songs building fast in anticipation of 2008's debut album, The Metros made a bid for success as the most obvious contenders to follow in The View's footsteps.

Seattle's Holy Ghost Revival were next up and their quick-starting set caught many punters who had snuck out for a beer off-guard. With the band in full-swing it was hard to see who was singing, when suddenly a ruckus in the crowd picked out singer Conor Kiley writhing around on the floor, before pushing a few people around, spilling a few drinks are squealing his way back to the stage.

Most comparable to Guns 'n' Roses or even The Stooges, the band's incendiary show takes in heavy rock, over-the-top solos and even a spell of Axl style piano crooning. The anything-can-happen atmosphere of fun and fear is notably missing from many crowd-controlled concerts these days and the security guards here were visibly struggling to keep things on an even keel, literally reeling singer Kiley back in by his mic cable. Hopefully that volatile energy will come across on their album, Bleeding Light - due early 2008.

As a more established act on the bill, The Draytones were one of the more disappointing acts of the night. Their blend of 60's British Psychedelia seems to offer little new and their picture-perfect reconstruction of a one-hit-wonder from that time places them more like extras from a film that a real, functioning rock band. There's little about them that is dislikeable or offensive, just little of note amongst the other more original bands on the bill.

As one of the breakout bands of 2006, The View were always likely to steal the show and with ever more hits behind them they seem to go on from strength to strength. From the opening bars of Comin' Down the crowd went wild and the energy and professionalism of the band swept the audience. The old downside of "giving everyone a go" that so many newer bands seem obliged to caused a few problems, with bass player Kieran Webster's spot in the lead singer position causing a notable lull in the show. Kyle Falconer is the more charismatic leader and when he's up front singing Wasted Little DJ's, Same Jeans or Superstar Tradesman The View seem unstoppable.

#Music
#Gig
#NM

11th Dec 2007 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Mike Wexler

Sun Wheel

Amish

This is the debut album by Brooklyn acid-folkster Mike Wexler and it's a beauty. Once you get past Wexler's impish nasal delivery this is a tremendously rewarding achievement. Fitting somewhere in between the quirkiness of Devendra Banhart and the softness of Nick Drake, Sun Wheel is an eerie labyrinth of tinkering folk and piano driven melodies so delicate they could float.

Many of the tracks are over 5 minutes and take their time without ever dragging their feet. This is a timeless album in many ways. It is swamped in folk nostalgia that it would be quite hard to pin point just when it was created. It also seems to defy time in that each song drifts effortlessly from one tempo to the next and hints at an epic quality of old. This is seen most successfully in Cipher, the albums centre piece. Though one of the shorter songs it changes course with such triumphant confidence that you'd think you were listening to an epic musical journey the likes of which only Canterbury prog could touch upon. Wexler's voice resounds over a rich tapestry of musical instruments and it's depths seem to mirror the piano bass line that holds it all together.

The title track is Wexler at his most beautiful. It seems to meander where ever it feels like until settling down to a fantastic instrumental finale of delicate acoustic guitar and deep piano. Southern Cross has more of a marching rhythm and at almost nine minutes it really lifts the album towards the end with rising, epic majesty.

Sun Wheel introduces us to a talent to behold and the best thing is that it does this with great humility. This is a quietly triumphant record that respectfully nods to its predecessors and yet remains fiercely original. It is intriguing, beguiling, restrained and fantastically giving.

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20th Sep 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Jeffrey Lewis

12 Crass Songs

It’s been a good week for record label PR and a bad one for Chimp research, following from Muxloe’s Young Marble Giants admission, I had penned the following review based upon the first few listens of Jeffrey Lewis’ 12 Crass Songs:

Jeffrey Lewis began life as a beatnik, or at least his parents were, a lifestyle choice that deemed comic books and blues records more suitable entertainment than that old Hippy’s foe: Television. Lewis took that early absence in his life personally it seems, as TV is one of several targets in the sights of his nasally-voiced shotgun on new album 12 Crass Songs. 

Before becoming a musician and a member of New York’s anti-folk movement (the power and anger of punk via acoustic guitar) Lewis drew (aha) on his upbringing to become an underground comic book artist. The sparse/direct style of comic books runs through 12 Crass Songs; it’s a wall-to-wall bunch of blunt, angry self-effacement - delivered like a crude black and white sketch through minimal music and Lewis’ talking/singing.

12 Crass Songs doesn’t let up. Nothing is spared as various tones of grey are added to the bleak portrait of the western world today. The human race is the first in the firing line on End Result “I’m part of the race that kills for possessions, part of the race that’s wiping itself out” On I Ain’t Thick, Lewis has his daggers drawn for that old villain 'The Man' who uses TV/Sarah Jessica Parker, consumerism and even history books, to keep the masses downtrodden, but Lewis ain’t having that y’all.

Systematic Death plays out like a comic book story, etching a sketch of Mr and Mrs Average America doomed to a life of misery, oppression and downright idiocy under the SYSTEM SYSTEM SYSTEM!

If he’s pissed at Sarah Jessica Parker, then imagine the ire Lewis reserves for Bush (I bet even Sarah Jessica Parker is pissed at him) and Mr. President’s policies, particularly his idea of defence, come under the penlike scalpel of Lewis. Even punk itself isn’t safe. Punk is Dead laments that the movement that once inspired Lewis and his contempories sold itself out “Punk is Dead. Punk is Dead. Just another cheap product for the consumer’s head”.

I would disagree however, what is punk other than getting a personal message out there by the most direct means possible (or is that DHL? (Corporate Fascists)). It’s easy to roll the eyes at another New York artist bitching about conspiracies and the like, but that’s exactly the fuel that feeds 12 Crass Songs. The world in 2007 is a mixed-up place of complacency and terror, artists that stick their head out, stare you in the eyes and point that out should be saluted. However, it surely wouldn’t detract from the message to add a splash of colour now and again, if only musically….

Then, like a tardy Colombo, I discovered that I had overlooked a vital piece of evidence; 12 Crass Songs is exactly that; 12 cover versions from late 70s/Early 80s English Anarchists Crass.  It’s depressing to think that 30 year old messages of protest and opposition still ring true and clear today, and strangely all of my thoughts were still valid - even though I refuse to believe that Sarah Jessica Parker was a key instrument in Thatcher’s oppression of Britain’s working classes.

#Music
#chimpovich

3rd Sep 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Devendra Banhart

Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Mountain

XL

More freak-folk from the leader of the freak-pack. SRDTM delivers on the idea of Devendra Banhart, moving effortlessly from 70s stoner jams, to warm folky riffs, nods to Tropicalia and cheeky numbers answering that old Zappa question: does humour belong in music?

Recorded in Topanga Canyon, the 70s enclave in the LA hills where Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, Stephen Stills etc all decamped to play guitar in each other's back yards. That laidback spirit fills this album; a retro exercise perhaps, but the songs are strong enough to make it feel relevant in 2007. It's got that feeling of a band hanging out, living and breathing the songs, and seeing where they can take them.

The immediate winner is Seahorse, a three-part epic that rolls from an acoustic opening to take in touches of The Doors, Dave Brubeck, The Stranglers' Golden Brown, Wild Wood-era Paul Weller etc, all with his Marc Bolan-ish vibrato over the top; feels like a lost classic that's going to storm live. Kind of fitting that it's about reincarnation with so many references tucked in.

Tonada Yanomaminista is a triumphant, summery singalong, almost breathless at 2:53; Bad Girl is as mellow as Fleetwood Mac's Albatross; Seaside a moving piano ode to er, the seaside; Latin flavours come out on Samba Vexillographica, Carmencita and Rosa; Shabop Shalom and So Long Old Bean fun songs that break up the fragile romance of My Dearest Friend and I Remember.

One of 2007's strongest albums so far.

Like his alternative list of album titles:

Milk the Wind
Shes a Hot Dog
Mountaneous Confunktion
Greatest Hits
Hubba Hubba Planet
Electric Pizza Cops
Foreskin Sword (what it is & how to use it)
Mama, Mujhe Mall se Jeans Lenee Hai
Porkin' the Broken Knee (Electroxtensial Chop!)
Who is Kadamon?
The Burnt Frizbee
Abhor the Coagulator (1964 version)
Koala Mans Return to Pineapple Temple
ihop ihop
Bacchanalian Beat Box
Thrice the Phat Magus
Gaga Blood & the Balls of .......
Rich Gals Shampoo n' Conditioner Blues
Talkin Weleda Haushka Bronners Blues
Military Massengill
Cyber Christ and the Gnostic Titi-Slap Part Deux
You Who are Familiar with Grandma's Hyacinth

#Music
#chimp71

26th Aug 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

The White Stripes

Icky Thump

XL Recordings

After the success of Jack White's near-permanent side-project of last year took off, the rumours flew that The White Stripes were to be no more. Only a fool would fall for that gag though, especially from a band that has a history of telling fibs and only needs a few days to record a new album. They spent a whopping 3 weeks recording this one, and it shows.

Lead single Icky Thump follows the method we've seen before of a banging radio friendly single that's track one on the album, but if I'm honest it hasn't had as much impact on me as either Seven Nation Army or Blue Orchid did. However, where those two tracks seemed like the only track on each album of that ilk, Icky Thump does sit in with things here more harmoniously.

Judging by the suits on the cover there's more than a nod to Gram Parsons and Emmylou going on here. You Don't Know What Love Is sees Jack White taking his lessons from The Raconteurs and creating an FM friendly 80's rock track.... with a touch of country. It's straightforward, but immediately engaging, oozing with personality. The production quality is definitely up on their previous efforts, which has a always been a bug-bear of mine. I never understood why using vintage equipment shouldn't result in such basics as a consistent volume level.... The Beatles and The BEach Boys always managed OK.

While the production quality may be up, the inconsistency is present in the style of the songwriting which seems to never offer the same idea twice. There seems to be few common threads running through the themes of the songs, and it very much sounds like a compilation album. 300 M.P.H. Torrential Outpour Blues is a heavy-handed down beat number, with vaguely obnoxious guitars. Conquest is a cover of Corky Robbins, complete with Mexican trumpets. Prickly Thorn makes an impression with it's infusion of bagpipes, although it leads into St. Andrew (This Battle Is In The Air), which unfortunately hides Meg's vocal contribution in cut-up tape tricks. Great title though.

Things sound tired with Little Cream Soda's rambling jam with chat. The focus seems to have been lost and the stop/start dynamic of this track and Rag and Bone in particular is already sounding a little tired - although Jack's line about "doghouse, outhouse and ...." show that he's obviously a Tommy Lee Jones fan.

I'm Slowly Turning Into You and A Martyr For My Love For You form a great centerpiece to the album - finally something a bit more serious, sitting somewhere between the outstanding musical edge of the The White Stripes and the more straightforward style of The Raconteurs. They seem much more thought out and complete than a lot of the album, and give the ever present glimpse of what a great album the band could make if they cut their output level by three and harnessed more of their live brilliance on their records.

#Music
#CSF

23rd Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Dizzee Rascal

Maths & English

XL

My my, hasn't he grown. The third album from the young up-start sees age and experience add eight to his still gritty rhyme style. The blueprint is still the same since his 2003 Mercury Prize inning debut Boy In Da Corner but with the gift of hindsight he is able to craft a much fuller ecord not just in content but also in style enlisting the help of US rappers Bun B and Pimp C, Shy FX and finishing off with an all UK line up of Alex Turner and Lily Allen.

This new maturity is expressed from the outset with World Outside where Dizzee illuminates the importance of seeing the bigger picture that lies beyond both his fame and the ghetto roots that he has come from. You can almost hear Earl's brother look up from his beer with the start of the next track Pussyole saying "Tell me they didn't just go oldskool." Here Dizzee raps furiously over the awesome Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock beat bringing a fresh dose of grime to this classic. Where's Da G's questions fake gangsters while Bubbles is a full-on dick swinging boast-fest about Dizzee's success. But you can't argue with a word he says here as it's all true, it's all to be applauded and it's all rhymed over the tightest production.

Tracks like Hardback (Industry) illustrate just how far this MC has come. This song sounds like Dizzee Rascal's pitch at a school careers evening explaining the pitfalls of making it big in the music industry as he dishes out advice over a deep, booming beat. It's the stark contrast of tracks like this and the ego filled, abrasive moments like first single Sirens and album closer U Can't Tell Me Nuffin' that make this record so appealing. On Suk My Dick Dizzee claims "When I was a kid I had a chip upon my shoulder but it aint getting better as I am getting older." This is so true and somewhere in this line lies the success of Maths & English. The dust certainly has settled on Dizzee's life of Grime but it is the sign of a great artist to be able to preach words of startling wisdom with honest conviction while also retaining the edge that put him at the top in the first place.

#Music
#HHG

4th Jun 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Elvis Perkins

Ash Wednesday

XL Recordings

I haven’t quite cracked the elusive unifying theory of why I like or dislike a certain song, but what I’ve sussed out so far is that the music I love the best is the music that makes me feel something. Be it happy or sad. I can only guess, having spoken to none of my musical icons on the subject, that such music must have been made by people who were genuinely feeling it.

After the first listen to “Ash Wednesday”, the moving debut album by Elvis Perkins, you get the impression that this man feels an awful lot of the melancholy that the age in which we live in can inspire. It might just be that the first listen to this album coincided with me turning 30 and the hangover that it brings, but it really struck a chord.

His take on alt.folk draws from other troubled troubadours both past and present. With a nod in the direction of Willy Mason, a crib sheet of cryptic Dylan poems and the warmth and feeling of Ray Lamontagne, Perkins has done his homework, but nicely woven the sources together rather than simply plagiarising the lot.

The album opens with the ace While You Were Sleeping which starts off with just his laidback vocal over his acoustic and is subtly built up to fill your speakers with some fine full blooded soul searching by voice and band alike. Those heights are briefly reached again on the excellent Moon Woman II, but the rest of the album is a more sombre and introspective affair.

Seeing him play live, as Muxloe and I did last week (supporting the aforementioned Willy Mason), he injected more joy in the performance than is present on the album. His backing band throw themselves into some of the songs with the gusto of an old rag time funeral marching band, but not losing the emotion of the songs.

After already being convinced of the album and its integrity, I learned that he lost his father (actor Anthony Perkins) to AIDS in the early nineties and that his mother was killed on board one of the planes on September 11th 2001. It suddenly became obvious that the feeling of end of the world hopelessness captured on this album is undoubtedly genuine.

#Music
#Locochimpo

3rd Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Arctic Monkeys

Astoria, London

Does it actually matter what I report here? Every self respecting music buff already has a stance on the Arctic Monkeys and I'd bet my mortgage on the fact that whatever you read about them your opinion is already set. Word on the street was that touts were flogging tickets for a mere couple of hundred quid for tonight's performance at the Astoria. Temptation was to sell up my Chimpomatic soul, take the cash and run. Either I could have insisted that the lucky recipient write a review for me or I could just make it up .........after all, don't we already know all about the Monkeys from Sheffield?

I'm reminded of my teaching days when a fight in the corridor, snow in the playground or the last day of term ensured that whatever I said was destined to go in one ear and out of the other. For such moments we were advised to leave the kids with 'a golden nugget,' even if everything else was a meaningless drone they should at least remember one key point. But more of that later.  No doubt you could join the dots in the Arctic Monkey's story between the following key phrases; 'myspace', 'best selling début', 'Gordon Brown', and 'Brit Awards'. And no doubt you've made your mind up which camp you belong to. Either your one of the tribe who shrug that they're a band with 'a few good tunes but not worthy of the praise, a band for skinny jeaned kids who missed out on Nirvana, the Stone Roses or even The Strokes for that matter' or they are 'saviours of rock n roll purveying witty vignettes on 21st century Britain'. Prior to tonight my mind was made up, I was firmly in the former camp.

So now for the part where I stand in front of the class who prefer to gaze out of the window or write notes or carve messages into the table taking no notice of what I say. On the basis of tonight's performance I am a convert, I get it and I now understand the hype. Whatever it is (its surely time to reclaim the phrase 'X factor' from ITV tea time telly) these boys have definitely got it. It is something that in all my years of gig watching I've only witnessed in a very select few. There's nothing ground breaking - its a set of basic lighting, no pyrotechnics, not much banter, and few histrionics. There seems no need for razz-mattaz when music can speak for itself. With the audience in the palm of their hand the enthusiasm is sucked up and thrown right back. Assured, controlled and confident their sound is full of an energy that makes one feel they've been struck by lightning. Tonight's real revelation is the rhythm section that recalls Reni and Mani in full flow, all tight, funky, rumbling, rockin....... I could go on but I expect you won't believe me.....

These boys are unfazed by the expectations, they know they've got it and it's apparent that they are absolutely buzzing. Not yet have they become wearily complacent or developed a cock-sure swagger to alienate all but their hard core fans. On the contrary, they're eager to please, they're the kids at school who really do want to throw the best party possible. 'Come on Alex' shouted one skinny jeaned fan and the Monkey's leader visibly grew in stature 'thanks very much, encouragement is always welcome'. Crucially they never surrender control. The exuberant crowd chanted for Mardy Bum so the band cheekily struck up the opening riff before launching instead into I Bet You Look Good On The Dance Floor; the fans were ecstatic and the Monkeys confirmed that they still call the tune.

So can they keep it going? Can they resist the mass sing-alongs, or translate some of this magic to record in order to convince the doubters? I don't know. A number of new songs from their soon to be released album 'Favourite Worst Nightmare' were showcased tonight suggesting a more muscular, bluesy sound which dares to seek out a different tempo. The crowd lapped it all up even if their toes didn't tap as furiously and the choruses were as yet too unfamiliar to chant along.  Contrary to the advice espoused in Fake Tales of San Francisco I'm jumping on the bandwagon.
The bell is ringing and its time to run out of the classroom to resume the fight, play in the snow or head home for the holidays. So what is the golden nugget that Mr Muxloe wants you to take with you? It is this - forget your preconceptions and go check these boys out. Preferably you should do it while they still have a wide eyed wonder at the beauty of simple rock n roll, before they get lazy on the decadence of success and before they starting writing bloated songs about 'woe is me, no-one understands me now my days consist of drugs and super-models'. I'm not telling you what to think just saying 'please think again'.

#Music
#Gig
#Muxloe

14th Apr 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Windmill

Puddle City Racing Lights

2007

Judging by the longest losing streak in betting history Grandma Muxloe’s tealeaf reading powers of prediction seemed to have passed me by. Future forecasts are not my strong point.  But I can already guess with confidence your first two thoughts on listening to Puddle City Racing Lights, the debut album from Windmill.  

First up will be the question ‘haven’t we already heard this before?’  You might wonder if this is perhaps an album mislaid by Mercury Rev at some time after Deserters Songs but just before they lost themselves in a haze of pomposity.  Or maybe you’ll think to yourself  ‘cunning, this boy Windmill stumbled on a stash of out-takes from Neil Young’s After the Gold Rush sessions and has added some 21st century beats to pass them off as his own’.

Secondly you’ll have to make a decision on Windmill’s voice.  It’s a transatlantic lilt, failing to reflect his Welsh origins, which is delivered in a pitch which some might laud as ‘soaring’ but others might deride as ‘grating’.  Its not one for the tabloids to seize on in the manner with which they ripped apart Joss Stone for dropping Devon in favour of LA but it might strike you Indie kids as being an indicator of a possible lack of veracity in Windmill’s credentials.

On both counts my advice would be to ‘get over it’.  Sure, Windmill has worked with a template laid out before but give him a chance because he’s added splashes of new colour to bring it all to life once more. It's like Warhol screen-printing over familiar images – they might be the same but they are also so very different.  As to the voice, it may be an acquired taste but it shouldn’t be enough to put you off.  If it does then you lose out in the way that you would if you turned down Sienna Miller or Daniel Craig (depending on your preference - Muxloe is an equally opportunities reviewer after all) on the basis that you don’t usually go for blondes  - some people will just never be satisfied.

Rather than set his sails to capture breezes blowing down from Liverpool and Manchester or gusts up from Bristol and London, Windmill has unashamedly located his mill facing westward to America.  But that’s no bad thing as the winds whipped up across the Pond have provided more than enough energy and ideas to power a dynamo of a debut album.  The key to his appeal is that, admirably backed by The Earlies live band, he has created sound-scapes so vivid that they suck you right in.  It’s not so much like watching a film but more like slipping on a virtual reality headset.  By the time the album finished I needed to be reminded that I wasn’t actual an asthmatic Model’s Agent caught up in a Tokyo car crash. Big things, and even Mercury Prizes, have been predicted for Windmill.  I’ve checked the tea leaves but have not the faintest clue what they foretell so will not be joining some of these wilder soothsayers.  All I will say is that the boy Windmill has made a cracking start and deserves whatever plaudits come his way.

#Music
#Muxloe

25th Mar 2007 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

RJD2

The Third Hand

XL

This is the first album RJD2 has put out without the help of Def Jux Records and there's a good reason for that. His much hyped debut Dead Ringers followed on nicely from the work of DJ Shadow in the world of sampling and gave the aggressive yet progressive alt hip-hop label a new string to its bow. Then in 2004 came Since We Last Spoke. Obviously plagued by the constant comparisons to Shadow, this album signaled a shift in direction for RJD2. Still containing the sampled structure this album leaned more towards mellow vocal tracks than its predecessor taking much of its influence from 70's rock. Now in 2007 the transformation is complete. I hope the artist will forgive me for one last Shadow comparison but just as The Outsider was an album to silence all stereotypes and went to one extreme end of the musical spectrum and embraced hip hop in all its grime The Third Hand goes the other direction and almost rejects all things hip hop and embraces pop.

The fact that RJD2 has fled the Def Jux fold shows just how much he's changed direction. This album still has the impeccably produced beats but heavily relies on vocals. It's a pretty slick piece of work with some beautiful instrumental moments. Reality is one of the stand out points with a funky-ass guitar bass line sampled over a classic RJD2 break-beat that chops and changes repeatedly and weaves in and out of the singing while Get It revisits old ground as one of the few purely instrumental beat pieces. But I'm sure that I've picked out these two as highlights as they most resemble the earlier work and I'm not proud of that.

This album will not go down too well with true blue hip hop heads who followed him earlier on, and unfortunately I think I am one of those. I hate to say that - as I love artists who can break away from a successful sound and forge a new path, but this album sees a total shift in genre. This is not in any way to suggest that it's a bad album, far from it, as pop music goes this is better than most. The production is impeccable, the beats strong and the whole thing floats on a multi textured bed of strings, samples and synths.

I can really respect this shift in direction. The change we all saw in Shadow's The Outsider seemed to come from a bitter resentment that all and sundry were making careers off his sound and the piece of shit he gave us was supposed to give a two fingered salute. The Third Hand however seems to come from a more genuine, honest place and is just the sound of an artist wanting to move on from where he started no matter how good a place that was.

#Music
#BC

16th Feb 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Ratatat

Classics

XL

You may be wondering how the hell this NY duo managed to make a greatest hits album after only one record. Answer: Classics is just a witty title for their follow up to the 2004 debut, and yet after the first listen you start to imagine that this title could quite easily come into it's own as each song is packed full of catchy hooks, beats and melodies that it can't be too long before the media pick up on this and adorn every advert with a Ratatat riff just as they did with artists like Royksopp.

Ratatat are Mike Stroud and Even "E*vax" Mast and they make eclectic instrumental music using predominantly guitars and electronic beats but back up these grand statements with sampled textures. Classics was born out of their extensive touring with bands like Interpol, Franz Ferdinand and the Killers and brought about the shift from the stripped down, looped sound of their debut to the fuller and grander feel of this record. "Audiences usually responded way more strongly to our louder, more aggressive songs," recalls Stroud. "So this time in the studio, we were more conscious of trying to please a crowd, without selling ourselves short. Also, playing so many gigs inspired us to make the new record sound much more live."

I would certainly agree with this statement on many levels. Classics does sound like an album made very much with an audience in mind. It steers away from any challenging curve balls and often plays safely into the listeners hands. But just as this is a criticism it is also the albums strength. It may occupy the safe middle ground but it does so with the pride and is of the highest quality. The reason many of the songs could make it onto adverts is because they are so good and give you what you want straight away.

The beat-heavy thud of 'Lex' will have your hands clapping and toes tapping in no time, while the sweet melodies of Tropicana reveal the boys admiration for bands like The Beatles and The Kinks. Much of the album was recorded at Bjork's upstate New York rural retreat and sounds like it provided the duo with much needed focus. It also explains the various animal noises that pepper these songs like the tigers on 'Swisha', the birds and bug noises on 'Tacobel Canon' and the impressive roar that provides the back bone to the stand out track 'Wildcat'. 'Loud Pipes' moves expertly from the rewind plodding beat to the tip toe tinkle with a gracefulness that makes this record easy to listen to but not easy listening.

It's hard to pin down what separates good instrumental music such as this with all the bland dross that serves to numb all creative impulses we may be lucky enough to receive and after listening to Classics I still don't know but there's enough honesty gone into this record to tell me that this is one of the good ones. The title may scream of misplaced arrogance but the music doesn't.

#Music
#BC

24th Nov 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Tapes 'n Tapes

The Loon

Every now and then comes a band who seem to be exactly what you are looking for. For the last couple of weeks, that band has been Tapes 'n Tapes (cool name too).

Coming from Minneapolis, (home of Husker Du AND Prince - both who might well have added a pinch of salt to their influences) Tapes 'n Tapes recorded a home-produced 4 track demo before The Loon and were snapped up by XL after a bidding frenzy following theis year's SXSW festival. "Nine packed-out, fun-filled gigs in four days" - and I imagine they looked like the melon-farming lounge band in Repoman for the most part of it.

Sounding like they must have listened to all my favourite records shortly before making this one, Tapes 'n Tapes bring a lot of classic elements to the party (Minutemen, Pixies, Talking heads, er... Gypsy Kings), but always keep it sounding modern (Wolf Parade, Arcade Fire, Constantines). Insistor grabbed early pole position with it's jangling Mexican guitars and seemingly ever-accelerating drums, but it's by no means the only high point of the album.

Though the playing is nothing special, the mathematical construction of the songs is tight, conscise, immediate and catchy without ever sounding conventional. Shuffling ryhthms and emotional vocals add a layer of personality to the records tracks. Just Drums is a great opener, and The Iliad is a Greek Epic, in a mini 2 minute package. As things move on the tracks become slightly less frantic. Manitoba and the excellent Omaha in particular are slightly more ambitious in scope - spelling good things for future records.

Although things are maybe slightly flatter on what would be the B-Side, it's never boring and I'm pretty sure that's just a matter of time until more gems surface and then I find it hard to believe that Insistor was the best. This is the record I'd want to make if I formed a band, so The Loon has already bagged it's place in my best-of-2006 list.

Read our interview with Tapes 'n Tapes here.

#Music
#CSF

7th Jul 2006 - 7 comments - Add Comment - Tweet