Chimpomatic

Shearwater

Rook

Matador Records

2006's Palo Santo marked a bit of landmark for Shearwater with Jonathan Meiburg taking center stage as lead vocalist and the result was a much fuller sound that was way more ambitious than any of the bands previous work. The followup Rook has much work to do to keep up with its predecessor and despite a few bumps I'm pleased to report a worthy successor has taken up the crown.

The arresting cover image depicts a dark figure of a man with arms outstretched and cloaked head to foot in a swarm of rooks, His face is unrecognizable through the mass of feathered bodies and as you make your way down his solemn frame birds burst through his coat and emerge from pockets. He stands on a barren shoreline and the pallet for this scene is somber and dark with no hint of colour. While listening to the 10 tracks within, this image starts to take on new resonance and meaning. Rook is very much concerned with man's intersection with the natural world in all its facets from hunter to prey to the eventual extinction of species including mankind itself. Much of the record seems to come from a place so barren and wild that the very existence of human beings appears as nothing more than a haunting memory. Much like Palo Santo the music here can shift violently from a frail whisper to a calamitous boom and with Meiburg's unmistakable guidance Rook becomes a record of great visual power.

Though this record starts and finishes with two fine songs they don't seem like the right choices and had they been put in a different order Rook would work better as a complete concept. On The Death Of The Waters breathes life into the record with the faintest of breaths. Meiburg's vocals are as grey and as still as a winters day until the crashing waters change the scene in the form of a cacophonous orchestra. The violence of the two halves do seem to jar this early on in the record and it's not until the warmth of the opening guitar chords of the next track the we really start to settle in. Rooks is a glorious piece of work and one that we have come to expect from this band of late. With a steady drum pace and glistening musical rhythm section Meiburg's sweet tones drift gently throughout but show signs of teeth at just the right point. For me this feels like the album opener and it heads up a run of songs that form the spinal chord of this album and it's from these five songs that the structure and strength radiate.

Leviathan, Bound is a slow building song based around a gentle rhythm that ends in magnificent strings and ever increasing percussion subtleties while Home Life employs a similar structure originating from crackling drum taps and working towards an orchestral middle section that takes flight amid the soaring vocals of their captain. The music simmers like brooding weather patterns and changes direction with a glorious unpredictability, rising and falling, swirling and trickling.

Lost Boys struts proudly to a marching rhythm and triumphant horns tapering off slowly to the boiling might of Century Eyes. This is the first time the guitars have been given a proper run and they beat their fists with an energy of a force that has been kept under wraps for too long. Unfortunately the momentum that has been gathering ever since Rooks is somewhat dampened by some of the later tracks. I Was A Cloud seems to revisit this bands past at a time when the record was bravely conquering new territory and South Col's conceptual insistence might play to the theme of this album but slows things right down here.

Thankfully the shear scale of The Snow Leopard gathers these stragglers up in its all-encompassing arms and carries them away. It's often the case that a voice's true nature is found in its extremities and though Meiburg's vocal range is certainly extensive it is often held back like a force too powerful to unleash. Well there are fantastic glimpses of it here and it is only matched by the titanic mariachi horns that rise from the depths to accompany it. It's a colossal song and should really end the record. It feels like the band are giving it their all in a last chance show of power and the gentle melody of The Hunter's Star, achingly beautiful though it is, whispers in its wake like something of an after thought. It hurts to criticize as this song, had it appeared anywhere else in the record, would pierce you to the core with it's melancholy. But if song-order is the only thing that tries to drag this down then so be it, for at the beating heart of this album are some of the richest musical moments this band have created.

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4th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

My Morning Jacket

It Still Moves / Acoustic Citsouca / Z / Okonokos

ATO records

Following their seperation from major label backer Sony BMG, Dave Matthews' ATO records have taken the opportunity to re-release their exisiting My Morning Jacket catalogue, which not entirely by coincidence ties-in with the release of the latest MMJ record Evil Urges, due next week.

It Still Moves - 2003 - 4 Stars
It Still Moves was considered the major label debut for the band after the success of The Tennesse Fire and At Dawn. As an album it's not particulalry cohesive, but it plays out nicely as a collection of great songs - and is a logical major label sequel to the home-grown efforts of the earlier records. The record provides little evolution from those records, but it magnificently showcases everything that there is to like about the band, from the opener Magheeta, through the rolling guitars of Golden or Just One Thing to the pounding rock of Steam Engine.

While many of its charming songs have since been overshadowed by the tightly honed follow up Z, It Still Moves provides for a great listen and is home to many of MMJ's staple live songs like Run Thru and Golden - plus the epic One Big Holiday, which is nothing short of spectacular.

Acoustic Citsuoca Live! At The Startime Pavilion - 2004 - 3.5 Stars
The band bridged the gap between major releases with this 5 track 'acoustic' EP, which is actually less live than it implies - as the "Startime Pavillion" show mentioned never actually occured. The EP was recorded over three nights in Austin, but none the less provides a magical document of the bands shows - particularly Jim James' solo acoustic shows. James' haunting voice dominates the release on highlights like Golden and Bermuda Highway, but the gem here has got to be the unbeatable version of The Bear, from album The Tennessee Fire. The song has a magnificent slow-building power at the best of times, but here it showcases James' vocal talents, unquestionable power and passion as a performer, building to a spine-tingling frenzied finale.

Z - 2005 - 5 Stars
Things stepped up a gear with Z, where the band moving away from the self-produced template of their previous efforts, handing over production duties to John Leckie (The Stone Roses, The Verve, Radiohead). It's a move that paid off hugely, with Leckie tightening the band's sound to the point of breaking. The sprawl of previous releases is trimmed to perfection, while every song is well-honed and muscular, with highlights ranging from the note perfecd electronics of It Beats 4U through the long rocker Lay Low to the powerful finale of Dondante. Eclipsing much of the bands previous work, this album moved them up to another level, bringing in new sounds and ideas while retaining all of their inherant qualities. Brilliant. Read our original revew here.

Okonokos - 2006 - 3 Stars
Following the release of Z, My Morning Jacket embarked on an epic tour, which did eventually land in London - but not before this two night residency at the legendary Fillmore in San Franciso. This live record documents the tour and was released with an accompanying DVD. While live albums can often be a little disappointing, this one rounds up everything that is good about the band and serves almost as a live greatest hits - covering 8 of the 10 songs from Z as well as numerous beefed-up renditions from their extensive back catlogue. Without seeing this unmissable live band in the flesh, this is about as close to the experience as you are going to get. Read our original revew here.

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3rd Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Fleet Foxes

Fleet Foxes

Bella Union / Sub Pop

Hailing from Seattle, 5 piece Fleet Foxes have been causing quite a stir locally and while Sub Pop have long been Seattle's finest they thankfully they stuck to their "only sign bands from Seattle" code to snap up this band - as let's face it, that's a code that has seen more than a few happy exceptions recently (The Shins, Postal Service, Oxford Collapse, Flight of the Conchords (!?)).

Using heavy precussion, multiple vocals and a giant dollop of campfire guitar acoustics, Fleet Foxes gently rustle up an epic granduer that you often won't see coming. Everybody's talking about the Crosby, Stills & Nash sound that the band have, but it's just as valid to compare them to contempories like My Morning Jacket and label-mates Band of Horses - as all rely heavily on a powerful voice to carry the dense, sophisticated music. While there's a definite nostalgia to Fleet Foxes, it never seems like pastiche or parody - just fun, passionate music, with a depth and quality way beyond the band's slender years.

Thankfully there's a healthy dose of Young in that Crosby, Stills and Nash sound and while the hymnal harmonies might be the obvious USP here it's the rockier numbers that have grabbed my attention. The sweeping guitars of Ragged Wood build in beautiful climbing chords, while the pounding drums and keyboard provide the backing for a grand narrative on Your Protector. Thanks to more examples on the Sun Giant EP (English House and Mykonos in particular) it seems clear that this is an element that has plenty of room for development within the band.

For a debut album this is a pretty stellar release and you can only hope that things are going to get even better from this band. Fantastic.

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2nd Jun 2008 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Bruce Springsteen

Emirates Stadium, London

May 30th, 2008

I've read a few reviews of the recent Springsteen shows including our very own CJ's glowing report last December and I don't really have much to add. I find no reason whatsoever for this show not to receive the same 5 star rating, as to criticize The Boss in any way for what he does on stage is gross ingratitude for the most giving and awe-inspiring performer in rock today. "So we're the first to play here huh?" asks the man as he surveys the impressive vista of The Emirates Stadium that spans out before his eyes, "well, we're gonna test its structure tonight." And that was no word of a lie as had the Gunners won anything this season their glorious stadium would not have seen adoration on such a scale as it did last night.

The set list, from what I can remember, wasn't a million miles from the O2 show, drawing at least 50% from albums of the last six years particularly the latest release Magic and The Rising but when the big tunes came they approached like giant waves and more than filled the stadium. The first of these waves came in the form of a much altered Atlantic City. Creeping in with quietly brooding subtlety this version showed the classic in all its bare bones and made every hair stand to attention.

Springsteen generously made countless jaunts into and around the face of the crowd shaking hands with as many people as was humanly possible with the composure of one greeting old friends. On several occasions, as if taken with the euphoria himself, he would fall to his knees with his back to the crowd and use their grabbing hands as a welcome support. During these crowd-outings, demanding to see the hundreds of request banners that the fans held aloft he would take his pick delivering them all to the drummers feet where from there his tremendous E Street accompaniment demonstrated their ability to turn on a dime and play whatever banner their Boss held up.

And play they did. The relentless display of energy and enthusiasm not to mention an inexhaustible back catalogue to choose from wipes every concert I've ever seen off my musical memory map. Before the crowd had time to show its gratitude and as his last note was still ringing out into the void in front of him, Bruce would race to the back of the stage to swap guitars and with a frantic "One, Two, Three, Four" the next card would be dealt. This went on in groups of about 4 or 5 songs for nearly 3 hours and this large-than-life front man showed no sign of tiring.

But the best was saved for last as an extended rendition of Badlands dovetailed unbelievably into back-to-back classics in the form of Thunder Road, Born To Run and Glory Days. It was like I was choosing the set list in my head and they were obeying me like some weird Jedi mind trick. There was many a mic-off with the impressive Miami Steve whose six-string prowess was also matched by his vocal abilities. Clarence Clemon's saxophone was tremendous and the whirling dervish antics of guitarist Nils Lofgren in the closing moments of Because The Night was something to behold. Ending with American Land from The Seeger Sessions the whole ensemble came to the front for a finale that threatened never to finish. It would be impossible for anyone with a heart still beating not to leave a Springsteen show physically exhausted but mentally buoyant from this unrivaled outpouring of energy, talent, passion and the long lost art of rock showmanship. There's no tricks, no gimmicks and no bullshit here - just a man playing like his life depended on it and judging by the smile that frequently adorned his face he's doing it as much for himself as he is for the thousands of outstretched arms before him.

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1st Jun 2008 - 9 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Silver Jews

ULU, London

May 29th, 2008

"I always thought London didn't give a fuck," claimed the stunned David Berman at ULU last night, as he stood aghast before the adoring crowd. He couldn't have been more mistaken. Although his most recent albums have seen accompanying tours Berman has a reputation of not playing by the rules when it comes to promotion - so when his band of Silver Jews roll into town you'd be a fool to miss them, as who knows when they'll return again. Always up for a challenge, Berman had a tough job in taking the stage after the support act Monotonix. Thrash metal from Tel Aviv is tricky at the best of times, but when the front man and drummer take their set-up marauding around the venue, barging into the crowd, topless and sweaty and screaming with vein busting ferocity, you've got to wonder how the Jews are going to follow this.

With glorious ease was the answer to that question as the first note rang out and the quietly confident Berman, dressed up to the nines, approached the mic. With the glamorous Cassie Berman at his right and twin guitars either side, the band lifted the roof from the start with old favorites Random Rules and Smith & Jones encouraging near euphoria from the fans. "I've got it all arranged," claimed Berman, "I'm gonna play an old one then a new one then an old one and so on," and with the exceptional musical accompaniment old and new melted into one sound. Silver Jews have always been a lyrics band with the actual music coming in second place in order of importance, but last night they morphed into such an impressive whole, raising the sound to a fuller and richer scale. On the lengthened musical end to Random Rules Berman walked around surveying each individual performance of his band like a school teacher. And things like this were another unexpected highlight. Having met Berman a few weeks ago I found him to be a warm and yet slightly reserved character who had only recently become acquainted with his fan base, but on stage he grows in confidence carrying himself like a Nashville Jarvis Cocker.

Although it was quite something to hear some of my favorite Silver Jews moments played out live, including some early gems like Trains Across The Sea, it was the new songs that really shone last night. Aloyisius, Bluegrass Drummer came storming out with a wonderfully brisk tempo and the playful San Francisco B.C. is obviously a band favorite being introduced by Berman "I hear you guys like your Fake Tales Of San Francisco over here, well we've got one of our own." Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea has many highlights, but Suffering Jukebox has to be one of the finest and it lived up to itself last night as did the fantastic Strange Victory, Strange Defeat. Both these songs benefit greatly from Cassie Berman's accompanying vocals and her presence on stage makes the whole show truly memorable. It's not often that you get a husband and wife partnership so lovingly and yet understatedly played out on stage and on the songs where Mr and Mrs Tennessee acknowledged each others presence, it was genuinely touching and really enhanced the songs and words being sung. "You're the only Tennessee," sang Berman adoringly to the woman at his side and the new album closer We Could Be Looking For The Same Thing took on new sweetness played out by this couple. "People don't write songs like that anymore," claimed Berman, damn right.

This show completes the trio of Silver Jews treats this week following the new record and the interview and hopefully clears up any misgivings Berman might have had concerning his bands place in London's heart. We give a shit DCB so don't be a stranger.

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30th May 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Mudhoney

Superfuzz-Bigmuff (Deluxe Edition)

Sub Pop

Despite being named after a couple of guitar effects pedals and featuring a song that confesses/proudly proclaims that "I've been drunk for 24 hours", it's difficult not to undersell the importance of Mudhoney's debut album Superfuzz Bigmuff and it's place in the timeline of, well, of popular music really. Such grand statements probably sit uneasily with the band themselves and most definately would have when these four long-haired outcasts from Seattle recorded it nearly 20 years ago. After all, they pretty much sound drunk all over it - a mood helped no end by the distorted sludge sound of the eponymous effects pedals. But this distortion, sludge, long hair and beer, laid out over punked-up three minute songs, combined to give the world 'Grunge' - the predominant alternative music scene of the early 90s.

A couple of years before Teen Spirit was a target in the bitter sights of fellow Seattlite Kurt Cobain, Superfuzz Bigmuff (along with its label Sub Pop, formed two years earlier) announced that something was most definitely happening in America's Pacific North West.

"We wanna be free, we wanna be free to do what we anna do. We wanna be free to ride...to ride our machines without being hassled from the man. And we wanna get loaded". Peter Fonda's plea in 'The Wild Angels', sampled as an intro to In 'N' Out Of Grace sums up far better than I ever could, where Mudhoney were coming from. There's no doubt this is an angry album, but whereas Cobain was to implode with that anger, Mudhoney had a sense of humour (and presumably a steady supply of ale) to balance it out and help carry them from the frustration of their surroundings.

Touch Me I'm Sick, which should always be the first name on the teamsheet for a "Grunge Album Select 11", sets the pace: "Well i've been bad. And I've been worse. And I'm a creep yeeeahhh. And I'm a jerk. Touch Me I'm Sick!". And the rest of the album plays out over this cynical, but above all beer-swilling fun, terrain. Extras on this version, re-issued to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of the lengendary Sub Pop, include singles, demos, and a couple of live recordings from 1988, which as the promotion blurb states "are all remastered, or in some cases, mastered for the very first time."!

Mark, Steve, Matt and Dan: the John, Paul, George and Ringo of my early adolesence, I salute you. Now let's get loaded.

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30th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

(dir. Steven Spielberg)

Paramount

Following a Russian incursion into Area 51, Indiana Jones is back in action - on the trail of a crystal skull that needs to be returned to its rightful place in a hidden Amazonian temple. He's got a new sidekick - in the form of rocking biker Shia LaBeouf - and to make matters worst the damn Ruskies - led by a sabre-rattling Cate Blanchett - have kidnapped his old flame Marion Ravenwood.

So, let's cut to the chase - was it as bad as the recent Star Wars prequels? No. Not by a long shot, although without the monumental lowering of expectations provided by Star Wars Episodes I II and III, I can't say I was expecting too much magic - although at least it was Spielberg calling the shots, rather than Lucas. There's a few funny gags but a lot more mindless nodding to the previous films and while the plot might try and hark back to Raiders of the Lost Ark, the buddy movie pace of Last Crusade provides the nearest comparison. Without the supporting charm of Sean Connery, or the deft touch of a writer like Lawrance Kasdan, we're left with David Koepp's continually clumsy, lumbering script that relies on Jim Robinson to explain what's going on.

Of course, it's not all bad. After a very shakey start, I was pleasantly entertained for a good chunk of the film and although he's so wooden on a couple of occasions he seems like he hasn't even said the lines in his head, Harrison Ford is occasionally near to his old form. It's the bad judgment of Lucas (and seemingly Spielberg too) that lets this film down. They seem to have been locked down in a hidden ante-chamber and had their film-making brains sucked out through their ears. Indy's refrigerated hide-out or Shia LaBeouf's Tarzanian antics have no place in any film... let alone a successor to one of the greatest action films trilogies ever made. I would have expected Spielberg to at least handle the action well, but in places even that drags to a crawl.

As usual though, the box office has spoken... and $311 million in five days is a hard figure to argue with.

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29th May 2008 - 6 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Silver Jews

Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea

Drag City

It's been over two and a half years since David Berman last flung open the doors to his much coveted mental closet of worldly wisdom and on that occasion he left us with tales of "a place past the blues I never want to see again," and threatening to take "a hammer to it all." A rare tour accompanied the release of Tanglewood Numbers but then the doors were fastened shut once more and the world was lonely again. With these terminal words left ringing in our ears what were we to expect from the followup to Tanglewood's dark vista?

Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea sees a few returning members for a tried and tested Silver Jews line up in the form of Tony Crow, Brian Kotzur and the twin-ax attack of Peyton Pinkerton (Natural Bridge) and William Tyler (Bright Flight) who all join Berman and wife Cassie who, as usual, provides warmth and texture to much of the background space. In tone and content it's a fascinating addition to the puzzle that Berman has been relentlessly and stubbornly crafting since this band's conception in 1989. It stands alone from any other Jews album in terms of its relationship with the world and provides us with a valuable insight into this artist's shift in consciousness. And a shift is exactly what Lookout Mountain marks but, as might be expected with Berman, it's not the shift one would expect. Berman's opinions, beliefs, outlooks and observations remain firmly the same and provide the linking trail back to the other records, but it's Berman's viewpoint on these things that has changed. The world according to the Silver Jews has always been described through its minutiae, in all its tragic detail, but there is a sense of resolution in these songs that breathes new life into their whispering lungs. Instead of bitterness or anger there is a newfound tenderness for our culture but instead of emerging as celebration this tenderness brings with it feelings of pity. Berman's resolution acknowledges this pity and where his previous albums would leave it there, Lookout Mountain strives for a sense of warning. Where previous albums posed questions, this sixth addition provides the answers.

"What was not but could have been, was my obsession way back when./ Now I just remember this, what is not but could be if." And so this seismic shift is seen in full glory in the first verse of the opening song. The statement of lack remains in place but the gaze is turned forward to the future and a new feeling of hope is introduced. With the economic delivery of a Japanese Haiku poem, Berman relays his wisdom with mono-syllabic accuracy in this opener and with it a multi-faceted, new vernacular is born. But this look to the future is no unconditional march into greener pastures. Berman's new hope is full of lament for the past. The future as seen in Suffering Jukebox has no place for the past that Berman once belonged to. It tells of this sad machine in a "happy town, over in the corner breaking down." Could this machine be Berman himself, trying to impart a wisdom to a world that is happy enough without it? Or it could it be a comment on music's place in our society too preoccupied with the "cult of number one"? After-all, the jukebox, though neglected, is "all filled up with what other people need." Is this money or music itself?

This is echoed on Strange Victory, Strange Defeat when Berman talks of all the "handsome grandsons in these rock band magasines," and asks "what have they done with the fat ones, the bald and the goateed?" This song revisits a songwriting method that is well tested. Berman has a unique ability to describe man's follies by way of the absurd and often using animals, be it a "kitten from Great Britain" or as seen here, "Squirrels imported from Conneticut, just in time for fall." This song tells of a squirrel uprising against what Berman calls "a nightmare world of craven mediocrity." With wife, Cassie in assistance the squirrels call out "We're coming out of the black patch! / We're coming out of the pocket! / We're calling into question / such virtues gone to seed!" This is a reference to an Emerson quote in which he describes Fashion as a "Virtue gone to seed." So Berman is mounting an uprising against this new culture of seeming victories that ultimately end in "strange defeats." It's a culture that promises to be a lot more fun but as Berman asks, "how much fun is a lot more fun? / Not much fun at all."

Lookout Mountain also sees Berman assume a new style of writing in the form of a greater reliance on narrative. The first person shifts to the third with his observations being played out by a myriad of protagonists in far fetched and highly entertaining stories. This is seen most notable in the centerpiece of the record San Francisco B.C. It tells the story of a failed relationship that leads to all sorts of drama including Mafioso QVC operators, jewelry heists and murder mystery. It's one of the first time Berman's expert turn-of-phrase has been put to such a use and you hang on his every word for gems like "he came at me with some fist cuisine." It's the best brawl description since "a can of whoop-ass." With slightly less success and complete with seagull noises, Party Barge employs the same grasp of narrative and together they seem to allow Berman an added freedom that he had only ever enjoyed by putting animals in human situations. The characters are never that far removed from Berman himself and almost represent different facets of his complex character.

The record ends in a way no other has done before and in this ending the great Silver Jews shift is complete. We Could Be Looking For The Same Thing is a love song first of all, but a love song that only Berman could have written. In lines like "We could belong to each other / If you're not seeing anyone," we see Berman's ability to juxtapose the ultimate with the intimate, destiny with monotony. But it also sets up a love story from the point of view of two people at a later and more resourceful stage in their lives where they haven't so much downgraded their hope, but have become more realistic in their search for destiny. With this in mind, Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea is Berman accepting the faults of this existence but seeming more comfortable with their existence. In tone and content this record acts as a removal from the bad in society while still acknowledging that it exists for other people. It almost represents a truth that someone can emerge the other side and still be intact. In this respect it's a triumphant record but in a very realistic way. At just over half an hour it is more compact or concise. It comes from a less fragile place than his previous writings and displays this artist's unique and all too rare respect and appreciation for language. If society is indeed seen and experienced through the critical eyes of our artists then Berman is an essential addition.

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28th May 2008 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Wedding Present

El Rey

Vibrant

I'd written my review for this album long before I even heard it and thankfully I didn't have to go back and change much. Where 2005's Take Fountain had been destined to be a release from Cinerama, it was re-purposed at the last minute following a change in personnel and a darker turn in the songwriting. With The Wedding Present brand revived, El Rey has had an entire gestation period and with Steve Albini back in the mix you've got a potent cocktail - which fortunately does not fail to explode. With the advances in technology since the lo-fi early days of George Best or Bizarro, there's no need for a technical back-step and the production is loud, crisp and powerful.

Since the release of Take Fountain in 2005, David Gedge has taken Interstate 5 south and re-located from his post-Leeds home of Seattle down to sunny Los Angeles, although I'm not sure we can expect an Entourage cameo anytime soon. The setting might have moved to Hollywood (Winona Ryder and Spider-man get a namecheck), but the subjects stays the same: broken hearts, cheating, lust, regret. The usual.

Given the usually autobiographical nature of Gedge's songs it would seem that he still hasn't got over his last break up - or he's got another ex-girlfriend already. Either way, his loss is our gain and the serial dating of California has seemingly provided much inspiration. With some of the more Cinerama-esque songs of Take Fountain excised (Larry's, Don't Touch That Dial) and the less-than-sympathetic production from Albini added to the mix and what's left is a beefed up sound with guitar-heavy riffs that leave barely a weak track on the album.

It may be a more up-to-date version of The Wedding Present sound - what with the talk of text messages, on Don't Take Me Home, JPEGs on Intenet obsession tune Model, Actress, Whatever and even a mention of text messaging - but all the ingredients are here and there's even a return to the mosh-pit friendly style of Brassneck on Soup. Speaker stack facing guitar work-outs are also thankfully represented on The Thing I Like Best About Him Is His Girlfriend and Boo Boo amongst others. The dueling female vocals of bassist Terry De Castro may recall Cinerama here and there, but that'll be Cinerama at their best. There's no single track as epic as the sprawling Interstate 5 off Take Fountain, but this is a thoroughly consistent, effortlessly entertaining album. Have no doubt: this is pure, undiluted Wedding Present.

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27th May 2008 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Ting Tings

We Started Nothing

Columbia

This duo have really got me stumped. I would prefer not to review this record than make up my mind as to whether I hate it or not. One thing I do know is that lead single That's Not My Name is fucking awesome. I first heard of The Ting Tings on a Later...With Jools Holland show sometime last year. They played this lead single and at first every judgmental nerve in my body kicked into action and I was ready to make a cup of tea until the next proper band came on. But then something strange happened which has started this acute indecision. With Jules De Martino on drums and backing vocals and the ever energetic Katie White up front they seemed like a sugary White Stripes. After the initial tirade of random girls names all the music stopped and White proceeded to craft a live loop of her harmony vocals with various pedals. The drums then picked up once more building to higher and higher levels of noise while all the time White matched this buildup with frenzied shrieks into the microphone. This went on far longer than any pop song should and with this near punk change-up crashing over the live looped harmony the whole song was transformed into something amazing and truly mesmerizing.

Why can't I just leave it there?

Ok, some facts: Tipped in the top 3 of the BBC's Sound of 2008 poll The Ting Tings have actually been around for a while. They formed the band after being dropped from their original label and much of the music, especially That's Not My Name seems to be a valiant reaction to the constrains and turmoil they experienced the first time around. They hail from Salford and put out a few DIY releases last year including the frantic disco-pop number Fruit Machine before releasing album opener Great DJ in March this year.

I can't think of any more facts so I guess I'm going to have to give some sort of opinion. First of all, this really isn't aimed at me, I'm an old bastard who's loving the new Bonny 'Prince' Billy album. So with that said, I find the rest of this record instantly appealing with its unlimited supply of catchy hooks, upbeat rhythm and endlessly energetic vocals. It's realistic in that it isn't trying to be anything more than what it is, and that's 10 flawless pop songs that are meant to be danced to not pondered over. But on the flip side, good pop music often brings with it the 'Pringle' effect. Once you pop, you can't stop, meaning, this shit stays in your head for 'like' ever. In it's unfailing energy comes unfailing irritation, in it's unashamed pop blueprint comes shallow ditties that have instant appeal but zero lasting effect. That's Not My Name is by far the best song on the record but it too has been diluted from its original live incarnation down to an album friendly song that plays all too nicely with the other kids. I wasn't surprised to see Shut Up And Let Me Go - probably the most irritating song here - feature on the new iTunes advert, as We Started Nothing is a bulging Christmas hamper to lazy advertising executives worldwide. But good on them, I hope they make a pile of money out of those soulless rats and make some kids dance along the way.

Is that ok?

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26th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Jim James

St. James' Church, London

May 22nd, 2008

By performing under his innocuous stage name, these one-man shows by My Morning Jacket front man Jim James often go unnotticed in the listings, but as anyone who has attended one can testify - they are overlooked gems in the My Morning Jacket schedule.

On this occasion lead guitarist Carl Broemel was in tow to provide some back up and the venue was spectacular. Could there be any better setting for James angelic voice than a church? James himself seemed awstruck by the venue and often lost himself in the darkness of the room, with only some low-key lighting picking the stage out of the darkness. Opening with Tonight I Want To Celebrate With You, the venue perfectly projected the bands gentle sound and as the two of them worked through acoustic masterpieces like Golden, the duelling guitars filled the room.

It Beats 4 U got a low-key workout which highlighted the passionate lyrics, while newsongs like Sec Walkin' and Librarian were perfectly suited to the venue - sounding much more part of the catalogue here, out of the context of the eclectic new record. Thank You Too really soared, with great guitar work from James - who often over-shadowed his counterpart Carl Broemel, who's presence sometimes seemed distracting from the otherwise captivating focus of the show. Left truly solo for a spell in the middle of the set, songs like The Bear got a flawless presentation for the front man, as the gentle acostics built up before letting loose into a torrent of guitar usually reserved for a speaker facing three-man jam.

James and Broemel returned for an encore and after a hymnal intro from Sam Cooke's I Thank God, they took on an ambitious rendition of Touch Me I'm Going To Scream (Part 2). The haunting electronics of the Omnichord made for an experience far beyond your average acoustic show, with Broemel's soaring slide guitar this time perfectly complementing the electronic beats and vocals.

As the echoing beats faded away there was time for one more and the drums continued into a great rendition of Anytime, before the eccentric cape-clad front man left the stage again - hiding under his cloak like a victorian sideshow oddity. Outstanding.

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23rd May 2008 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Futureheads

This Is Not The World

Nul Records

After a change of label and new producer in the form of Killing Joke's Youth, Sunderland's angular favourites The Futureheads are back with a third record on their own Nul Records.

The problem with the immediate sound and energy that bands like The Futureheads and Maximo Park made thier name on, is that by it's very nature it just can't last. There comes a point where they need to move forward and the options available to them aren't that huge. While the Arctic Monkeys made the jump using clever lyrics, a wide musical style and their own original ideas, The Futureheads have gone the other route and tried to embellish their existing style, making it bigger and grander. It's a less than successful jump, as their music just isn't suited to the stadium rock of Coldplay or Muse. This Is Not The World has pretty much one style and once the minor 'intro' of The Beginning Of The Twist has passed it's all the same tempo, all fast-starters. With the exception of See What You Want (2mins 42) they even stick around the 3 and half minute mark. Hard To Bear is probably the only track to try and stray from the pattern, but apart from the temporary change in pace it offers little of note.

This template was so well laid our by the Jam that there's always been little room for improvement. The Futureheads got their breakthrough with their cover of Kate Bush's Hounds of Love and three albums in they still haven't come close to that songs originality.

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22nd May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet