Chimpomatic

Le Loup

Family

Talitres

I recently invested in a new pair of ear phones. I figured, hey I spend most of my waking time listening to music so why settle for substandard equipment. I was bored of getting half the story, I wanted to hear everything that was intended in a song, I wanted to hear the drummer clearing his throat, I wanted to hear the singer thinking about clearing his throat. So I won't bore you with the tech but I bought a nice pair and this record broke them in, and boy am I glad I chose it to pop their cherry. Less than a minute into the second track Beach Town these bad boys strapped to my head had just paid for themselves.

Le Loup began as the bedroom project of Sam Simkoff and the first culmination of his efforts was the 2007 debut The Throne Of The Third Heaven And The Nation's General Assembly, an interesting blend of keyboard loops, banjo and computer wizardry. With the next installment Family, things have grown and a full band now play out an altogether fuller sound occupying a unique middle ground between tribal rock, freak folk and sonic experimentation. On initial listens songs like Grow will recall bands like Animal Collective or Panda Bear while the harmonies that develop on Morning Song and Golden Bell will warm the heart the way the recent Fleet Foxes debut did. However there are more than a few songs here that can only be described as possessing a world music feel. Now the phrase 'world music' is not one I use with any sort of glee and when I tell you that a song like Forgive Me never fails to remind me of the bit in Crocodile Dundee 2, when Mick Dundee stands atop a large rock and twirls that thing on a rope, which in turn rallies together all the animals and Aborigines in earshot to come rushing to his aid, you may take a second glance at the healthy score that sits proudly to left of this review. Well I'm just as surprised as you. The many genres that are blended on Family should never work, but work they certainly do.

Produced by Simkoff and band-mate Christian Ervin, Family doesn't rely on the electronic support that formed the backbone of the debut but instead looks to a more elemental starting point. The organic sounds that were captured from traditional instruments were always the starting point and were then fed back into the machine and would be processed as samples. The result is a massive departure from the insular sound that Simkoff brought to the debut and a record with such awe inspiringly expansive horizons that really embodies their strength as a live band.

It's a record that expresses a love of music and a limitless scope in terms of creative expression. Sprawling instrumentals will flow into choral harmonies which will, in turn, give way to tribal rhythms and collective camp-fire sing along vocals. It's an album that defies place and though this Mick Dundee thing runs heavy throughout, it's a pure delight and really transports the listener. The reason is that every one of these elements that make up Family all originate from a place of honesty and a love for music. That's why it all works when it really shouldn't. If you can afford it you're going to want a decent pair of headphones to aid your swim in the dense production that flows throughout. But even without this you'll still have a good time.

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14th Oct 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Chinatown

Still solid but a little dreary.

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#CSF

11th Oct 2009

Eagle Eye

Stupid thriller, lumbering over ground well-trodden by 'Enemy of the State'.

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#CSF

10th Oct 2009

Gama No Abura

Shapeless but fun, Hal Hartleyesque comedy.

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#CSF

9th Oct 2009

Why?

Eskimo Snow

Anticon

Without sounding like the indie-rock equivalent of Adrian Mole, Yoni Wolf's writing is certainly getting darker. The self loathing, acute honesty and constant suicide mentions that made up Alopecia were buoyed by a dry wit that made you think that he was well aware of his failings but had them under control. Eskimo Snow was written at the same time as Alopecia and the difference here is the almost complete absence of the wit which works to expose the self-loathing in all its miserable glory. But it's glorious nonetheless and further goes to highlight Yoni Wolf as one of the best writers of our time.

We were warned in recent interviews by Wolf that Eskimo Snow would be the least hip-hop of all work as Why?. I found Alopecia tough to appreciate in its early days for this very reason and while these new songs make the transformation from odd-ball hip-hop to odd-ball indie-pop totally complete the jump doesn't seem as cavernous due to its predecessor and so my appreciation of this is more instant. I don't know of an artist to have made such a successful jump and while Eskimo Snow seems like the end of something that Alopecia started it signals a bright future for this gloomy chap. It's now possible to use the word 'gloomy' with the comfort and satisfaction you might when talking about a Morrissey record. This is a 'bare-bones' album, the most stark and revealing of all their work. The confessions of insecurity and discomfort aren't masked in clever rhetoric but laid out in sometimes crude honesty. It's like he's done with talking around the subject of his own patheticness and this album is the coming-to-a-head of many factors. After this things may be different, but for now this shit just has to be said.

This pinnacle aspect of the record can be seen in all its glory on Into The Shadows Of My Embrace. Opening with the confession, "Now the world is my good confessional monkey / But it'll take a bus load of high-school soccer girls to wash those hospitals off me," he then changes up the pedestrian tempo and launches into a relentless, pounding list of confessions. As he gabbles this list his honesty is barely containable and strains to keep up with the musical tempo that dictates. After all this comes the shrieked line; "Saying all this in public should make me feel funny, but you gotta yell something you should never tell nobody." It marks the loudest his voice has ever got and heralds in a new dawn of heavy, swirling guitars.

The lyrical honesty is not the only factor that makes Eskimo Snow so stark. The song structure is so different from Alopecia that it's hard to imagine them being conceived in the same sessions. Many of these songs make no apologies for going nowhere. They either build to nothing or don't build at all. They stare you square in the face declaring, what you see is what you get. Opener These Hands should be a closing lament rather than the chosen one to welcome us all to this record. It shuffles by almost unnoticed in its misery than fades from view leaving awkward silence. And the innuendo filled Even The Good Wood Gone spends its entirety promising a crescendo, but gives up. But in anyone else's hands this would smack as a bunch of semi-thought out sketches that shouldn't have seen the light of day. Under these guys it becomes a startlingly refreshing and intricately perceived album. In its barren focus they have coaxed some of the most beautiful songs in their repertoire. One Rose and Berkley By Horseback twinkle with fragility with their shimmering piano and Wolf's clear-as-day nasal delivery.

This is a worthy answer to the staggering Alopecia and even though it may appear to be the first full step along the indie-pop road, its unbridled creativity poses more questions about the future direction of this band than answers. It may not have the shining peaks of Alopecia, it is more of a blanket soaking, but its depth is unfathomable at this early stage. The Anticon hip-hop spirit lives strong in this record so I leave you with Wolf's mission statement on the penultimate gem, This Blackest Purse. "I want to speak at an intimate decibel, with the precision of an infinite decimal / To listen up and send back a true echo, of something forever felt but never heard / I want that sharpened steel of truth in every word." Not that he's ever done anything else, if this is the only hint at where we may find this band next, I for one am all ears.

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9th Oct 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Pixies

Brixton Academy, London

First a confession - this is the first time in my life I have ever seen the Pixies, and since I've been going to gigs for (oh dear) 30 years, I've missed many a golden opportunity, and the Pixies always figured high on the list of "ones I shoulda seen". Suddenly the opportunity miraculously arises as the Pixies undertake a tour to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the stone classic Doolittle album. I say stone classic since I don't think I'll hear many arguments to the contrary - an album packed with great pop songs, ferocious guitars, great lyrics and brilliant vocals (plus it's on a British label). With the band playing Doolittle in full tonight, I had a slight concern that I might be seeing something that reeked only of nostalgia and might be best left alone, but in the weeks coming up to the show I've found it hard to suppress my optimism - just really hoping that these worthy veterans would deliver the goods.

Of course, they DID deliver the goods. The Pixies are a band - and by that I mean they are a genuine example of the sum adding up to more than it's (considerable) parts. They play like a band, with that wonderful sense that they are all at home where they belong when they are doing this. This was the first of three nights in Brixton - a venue the Pixies have a long history with - and their name on the dome outside could not have looked more like it was meant to be there. Indoor gig and a crowd who felt like this was their very own special band coming back to see the fans that first embraced them. All of these things meant there was a happy vibe from both band and audience.

Starting up with Dancing The Manta Ray, they warmed themselves up by plundering the b-sides box and treating us to some rare gems - Kim Deal told us that they were playing some of these songs for "maybe the fifth time ever, tonight". Then, after maybe fifteen minutes Kim Deal plays the opening riff to Debaser and the party really starts. God, they sound great. Upstairs in the Academy the sound was pretty good although I'm told it was a bit muddier downstairs, while the visual elements of the show can't be faulted - great lighting and projections, tastefully done. Each track from Doolittle sounds teriffic and the band play them all with deserved enthusiasm. It's kind of surreal - there they are playing Here Comes Your Man and Monkey Gone To Heaven, Tame, Dead, No.13.... right through to Silver which was a bit of a highlight despite it's being the slowest song they played all night, but then to follow that closely with Into The White was a masterstroke. Back for encores (twice) which included more b-sides (UK Surf version of Wave Of Mutilation) and classics (U-Mass) and ending with Gigantic - the word best used to describe the smile on Deal's face the whole night.

I was not disappointed.

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#HarrisPilton

7th Oct 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet