Chimpomatic

Mugison

Mugiboogie

Taking it's lead from the Blues, Mugison's third album finds him re-working many well-travelled lyrics (shaking hips, making sweet love) and giving them a new, Icelandic twist. The signs of a transition away from the bedroom electronics of earlier records had started to appear on 2004's Mugimama Is This Monkey Music, with the awesome highlight track Murr Murr - and here that sound has grown even bigger, enlisting a full band to enhance the quirky front man's bone crushing cacaphony.

With his departure from Matthew Herbert's Accidental Records, the transition to fully fledged rockstar is complete - the crunching guitars and hammond organ of title track Mugiboogie, the dirty guitar solos, the handpicked sound of The Pathetic Anthem - this is an album that is much more organic than his previous work, electric, rather than electronic, raw and energetic. Mugison's status has also grown considerably since the last album, releasing records through Mike Patton's Ipecac label in the US and touring with the likes of Queens Of The Stone Age. Even the cover has a rock star touch, embossed in gold over faux leather.

While in some ways things are more straightforward here than his previous efforts, to a newcomer this will still undoubtedly seem eclectic and unhinged. The schizophrenic Death Metal of Two Thumb Sucking On A Boyo is a little hard to deal with and the hopolong country of The Pathetic Anthem drags on a bit. Harry Nillson meets Napalm Death might not sound like a recommendation, but there's plenty to write home about. The Great Unrest is a particluarly moving highlight, while Deep Breathing is reminiscent of another Mugimama stand-out, 2Birds.

I insist that you make the effort to see Mugison live, as more than anything his recorded work serves as an exhillerating document of his enthraling live shows, joyfully reminiscing over all of the captivating highlights.

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16th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Pop Levi

Never Never Love

Counter Records

Pop Levi (aka Jonathan Pop Levi) builds on the promise of 2007's The Return to Form Black Magick Party with this collection of upbeat tambourine-shaking 60s-flavoured boppy songs.

As you'd expect from someone who started out playing bass in Ladytron, there's a strong element of electronica here, but it's blended in with a groovy sensibility - fat Human League-style synth basslines over handclaps in Dita Dimoné etc. You can almost imagine Austin Powers getting down to this if he showed up in a club in 2008 (not to imply it's a joke album, far from it, but there's a lightness of touch to a lot of the tracks here - a track called Mai's Space, and the YouTube-friendly video for Semi-Babe for example).

Might be one of those albums that works better as something to plunder for a mix-tape (or whatever the kids are calling them these days - hit Wannamama, Dita Dimoné, Oh God (What Can I Do?) or Never Never Love for a satisfying sample) but overall it's a fun summery sound.

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15th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Albert Hammond Jr.

?C?mo Te Llama?

Rough Trade

While The Strokes seem to have faltered in preparation for a follow up to 2006's excellent First Impressions Of Earth, guitarist Albert Hammond Jr has managed to put out debut solo album Yours To Keep in late 2006 and now followed it up with a second album - ¿Cómo Te Llama?

There are still echos of The Strokes sound - the rolling guitars of Victory At Monterey, the pounding bass line of Borrowed Time - but this is very much a solo album, and as such has a much more small-scale vibe than one of the band records. There's a bedroom-studio attitude thoughout, even if that bedroom might be lavishly kitted out, and the DIY vibe of bands like Guided By Voices even pops up here and there - which doesn't surprise me, star spotters, as I once spotted the man himself at one of the NYC shows of GBV's Electrifying Conclusion tour.

Having said all that, the record is infinitly more fleshed out than Yours To Keep, with Hammond backed by a more consistent band, as well as guest appearances from the likes of Sean Lennon. Moving beyond the ditties, things really have some meat on them with tracks like the Lennon-esqe, Bargain Of The Century (John, not Sean) or the crunching guitars of The Boss Americana. The releatively light-hearted sound of Hammond's solo work lifts some of the weight of expectation faced by the ever-hyped Strokes, and here we have the sound a productive songwriter getting a few things out of his system, working on ideas and generally letting things grow and develop. While Hammond doesn't have a classic voice as such, it has a character of his own and serves nicely to float over the wide range of musical ideas explored here - from the military drums of Rocket, to the reggae-tinged Miss Myrtle, or even the Miss Marple-tinged tinkles of charming instrumental Spooky Couch.

There's a fast and loose vibe to this summery album - which focuses on the good times in life and makes for a refreshing change. Due to its marked difference in style, it would be misleading to suggest that this album will fill the gap while you wait for a new Strokes album - but it is a good listen in its own right and provides clear evidence that at least a certain percentage of the engine behind that band is still ticking over nicely.

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14th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Justice

Live at Somerset House, 11 July 2008

Ed Banger

Ah the English summer. Standing around in the great outdoors, drink in hand, waiting for a band to come on stage, willing the rain to stop... Audiences here are nothing if not committed to having a good time, which almost makes it okay when you find yourself standing around in the rain for hours in the name of entertainment. 

Last time I tried to catch a gig at Somerset House Al Qaida managed to disrupt my plans to see Queens Of The Stoneage, so I was pretty glad when support act Late Of The Pier turned up. Sounded a bit like someone updating Devo, all angular beats and noisy keyboard lines, but quite a bouncy set, and they made the most of all the umbrellas in the audience.

Tonight though belonged to the mighty Justice, one of the few acts in recent times who've managed to push beyond the whole "two men, two laptops" problem of presenting live dance music. They're still standing there, twiddling away, but somehow the presence of a giant neon cross bookended by two giant stacks of Marshall amps on either side of the stage elevates their set. It also helps that the music sounds so great live: they beef up an already very beefy (boeufy?) album with killer live versions, milking all the breakdowns and drum crescendos whenever possible - it's not subtle, but it's totally effective. 

Even with the July rain coming down through the set, umbrellas joining all the phones (and hands) in the air, there was still a total party vibe bouncing off the elegant 18th century walls. D.A.N.C.E., DVNO, Waters Of Nazareth etc all sounded great, with the trademark Justice bit-crunched production powered by body-shaking bass. Biggest moment of the night was reserved for the unstoppable We Are Your Friends, a great version that started off a cappella and seemed to go on for about half an hour before they finally let the rest of the tune drop, while a helicopter hovered overhead ("Sarge, we're just going to see what that, erm, disturbance is over by the Strand tonight... no, nothing to report, but we're going to, erm, just stick around for a bit just in case... Roger, over.")

Catch them if you can.

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12th Jul 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

White Denim

Workout Holiday

Full Time Hobby

My apologies for the late arrival of this review but the sheer workload that is piled on me from this site means I tend to stop listening to a record once the review is done, and I really didn't want to stop listening to this. It seems as far as indie music is concerned all the ideas these days are coming from the US and arriving hot on the heals of the recent No Age record, White Denim's Workout Holiday not only reinforces this perception but positively hammers the point home.

Having been stuck in my car with only this CD for company, Workout Holiday has literally been thoroughly road tested and due to the nature of this listening experience I started formulating some driving metaphors in my head. One of the most exciting features of this band is what I call their 'gear shift' capabilities and by that I mean their penchant for ditching an idle pace for a sudden and electrifying upshift. So I started comparing this record to the experience of, as a youngster, trading your crappy 1 litre MG Metro for a one-time-only excursion down the road in your dads car. But then comparing this band to a high performance dad-car couldn't be further from the truth, I would have to leave that to a Metallica album. No, White Denim is more like getting into the same piece-of-shit Metro with the rusty body-work, decrepit brakes and highly questionable frame, only to find someone has switched your 1 litre engine for a super hybrid piece of engineering complete with flux capacitor that runs on plutonium.

Workout Holiday is highly charged, punk-infused rock that knows no boundaries or limitations. It comes from the Austin, TX trio following their 2007 debut 7" EP Lets Talk About It. It features 4 tracks from the EP which is slightly disappointing, but has become one of the most exciting records to bombard my eager ears for some time. White Denim walk the precarious line between genius and utter chaos, with each song fooling you into thinking it has no clue where it's going. It's ramshackle guitar chords race headlong into the distance with the makeshift rhythm section struggling to keep up, and the vocals erratically punctuating this mess when and where they feel like it. The result is an electrifying run of songs, no two alike, that never end where they start and this unpredictability seems to catch you out every time, making each listen a unique experience.

The EP tracks still form some of the strongest of these 12. Both Lets Talk About It and the following track Shake Shake Shake follow similar structures with furious, guitar driven first halves being taken down a notch at the midway point for an emerging instrumental ending that constantly threatens to finish but, as if with shear enthusiasm, keeps going and going. Sitting changes the pace with a bar-room singalong that sees singer James Petralli opening the vocals like Anthony And The Johnsons. It's a jaunty little number and the most conventional on the album.

Mess Your Hair Up seems to embody this band perfectly. It's opening section is a pretty non-descript mess of buried vocals, but as the mess gets thicker the feint screech of a guitar chord rises from the bog and takes the song off into unforeseen territory. As usual the band seem to be enjoying this change-up so much that they keep it going, reinventing different drum patterns just as the song should be finishing. Towards the end of the record comes a late heavyweight in the form of Don't Look That Way At It. Opening with a sound as erratic as a bucket of marbles being poured over a guitar, it sets up a bubbling cacophony of noise that trickles along at a steady pace, it maintains this complex and crammed formation until the midway point where the fuel injectors kick in The deep drums suddenly give way to crashing snare and cymbal and the complex guitar arrangements are smoothed out to driving chords. It's impressive to say the least.

The two instrumental songs here, Look That Way At It and WDA, sound less like conscious decisions to give space to the record and more like a band who are making things up as they go along and are way too into their instruments to bother with vocals, which may be in there somewhere but have been long buried beneath the ever mounting layers of sound. And this goes some way to describe this album. Each song stumbles into the other and the record just delivers idea after idea without becoming precious about any. They'll set up an impressive first half then tear it down like reckless hooligans. And here lies the diamond in this rough album. A better record may well crop up this year but I doubt if I will see such a reckless approach to an album. As one idea is discarded for another you get the impression that this liberation comes from a knowledge that there are more to follow. You get to the end of the album and instead of wanting to rewind you want to hear the next record, but as this isn't possible you'll have to settle for back to back plays. Highly recommended.

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10th Jul 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Rescue Dawn

(dir. Werner Herzog)

Gibraltar Entertainment

German-American Dieter Dengler (no relation to Mark Wahlberg's character in Boogie Nights) likes to fly. So much so, that he joins the US Airforce and finds himself flying covert missions over Vietnam and Laos as the Vietnam War starts to escalate. After being shot down, he is captured by Pathet Lao guerillas and taken to a POW camp, where he meets long detained Americans and Air America 'employees'. Determined to escape, the group hatch a plan - but once they are out of the prison, the jungle proves to be an even more ruthless captor.

German marverick Werner Herzog remakes his own 1997 documentary Little Dieter Needs To Fly with mixed results. Well known for never using storyboards, Herzog brings his documentary-style film making to the project, which coupled with the average cinematography gives the movie an 80's TV movie feel. In fact, if it wasn't for the thrilling story you could occasionally be forgiven for thinking you were watching an episode of Tour Of Duty. With an improvised script.

That improvisation leads to some limitations on the editing - which often seems to work around a scene, rather than present it as well as possible - as well as providing some shockingly jarring special effects (Herzog's first). In turn, the direction does some disservice to what could easily have been a world class performance from Christian Bale, who clearly put everything he had into the role - no doubt studying Dengler's mannerisms in detail from the original documentary. Showing a shocking loss of weight throughout the story, Bale method eats his way through the film - literally devouring a plate of maggots and a snake in the process. Steve Zahn and the ever twitchy Jeremy Davis provide additional support with the cameraderie between the malnourished prisoners varying from intense to downright maniacal - occasionally seeming more like One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest than The Great Escape.

Engrossing despite itself, this is a remarkable story that is well worth taking the time for. You cannot fail to be drawn into the desperation of the situation and the relief and euphoria at the end is simply overwhelming.

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9th 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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8th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Tricky

Knowle West Boy

Domino

Knowle West Boy kicks off with Puppy Toy, a bluesy bar-room brawl being played out late at night; Bacative sounds like a Maxinquaye outtake, C'mon Baby's a stomp-rock and Council Estate is the sort of song that only Tricky can pull off - 2:39 of what's basically a single riff packed with furious drums that can barely contain their excitement at getting to pull off another roll, vocals dropping into dub echo chambers, Rage Against The Machine-style distortion that all stops as suddenly as it starts. Throughout this great album there are harmonicas floating over ragga-lines, smokey female voices, keyboard washes, rock guitars, heavy heavy beats - and a Kylie cover thrown in for the fun of it. 

There's so much going on in this album it puts most other recent records to shame - it's like Tricky has absorbed everything that's great about British music and distilled it here, leaping around without worrying about "confusing his audience" or "not being coherent" or any of that marketing crapola that blands out so much of focus grouped modern culture. It's hyperactive without being ADD - there's so much attention to detail here, so much love of the sheer joy of making music, that it's a totally infectious, convincing project.

It's like he's made a great mixtape using only Tricky songs. He so generous with singing duties, employing so many different vocalists (especially women) that it's easy to keep checking your iPod to make sure it hasn't slipped into shuffle after a few tracks. 

Like Beck's new one Modern Guilt (released on the same day), it's a return to form that makes you remember why you thought he was so great in the first place (and makes you think you might have been missing out in the interim).

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7th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Californication

(creator. Tom Kapinos)

Showtime

Showtime's recent attempts to catch up with HBO see them following up the success of Weeds and Dexter with the sordid tale of Los Angeles writer Hank Moody. After selling his hit introspective novel (only to see it turned into a Hollywood romcom), disillusioned writer Hank Moody is stuck in Los Angeles with writer's block. While his horny agent attempts to break the block, Hank also has to deal with seeing the love of his life marry another man, while their child learns guitar...

I never expected to see David Duchovny return to form, and certainly not as a degenerate character like Hank Moody. Snorting, punching and banging his way through the upper-middle-class low lives of Los Angeles, Duchovny has created a character almost as thoroughly debauched as Ari Gold - and just as entertaining. No limbo is too low for Hank, but between the glamour and the sleeze Californication packs a substantial punch. Hank's relentless attempts to get his life in order is something many of us can relate to, with a solid dose of house envy thrown in for good measure.

Buy the DVD, give it a couple of episodes to get you hooked and stay on board for the most surprising lifestyle-envy show since Entourage.

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4th Jul 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet