Chimpomatic

Times New Viking

Rip It Off

Matador Records

There's lo-fi, and then there's TNV. I can't see the point, really. There might be some good tunes buried in this collection somewhere, but who's to say? I simply can't get past the TRULY APPALLING sound. The way I understand it, lo-fi is more of a musical ethic rather than a description of sonic qualities, but in the case of TNV it's taken much more as a literal way of life.

It's like being played a demo recorded on a cassette tape by someone who didn't know how to set the input levels. The entire signal is broken up and overloaded across the whole mix, thereby reducing the definition of any single instrument - you can't hear any bass frequencies for example. It's like being shouted at for half an hour, or played a sex pistols bootleg down a bad phone line. So much so, in fact, that it's just too wearing to pay close attention to. I don't want to have to wade through a river or crackle to reach the music, after all, it's supposed to be about the songs isn't it?

Perhaps TNV would be pleased to hear me say all this - yeah! Punk Rock! You know, if this stupid reviewer can't be bothered to extract the tunes, then he's missing the point and we don't want him as a fan. Well, if that's the case then fair enough. But folks, since someone's gone to all the trouble of releasing this record it might have been better to put something out that people might want to listen to more than once. Any chance of remixing it a bit cleaner...?

#Music
#HarrisPilton

6th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Iron Man

(Dir Jon Favreau, 2008)

Very fun blockbuster antics, that matches cool tech FX w Robert Downey Jr's patented smartass delivery. Without either them working it would be a pretty generic exercise in the routine "superhero powers up; finds baddy; has a big fight" plot. It never quite hits those "America! Fuck Yeah!" moments you want from a film like this, but it comes pretty close, and the RDJ charm is in full effect throughout.

The various Iron Man prototypes are all accompanied with some highly satisfying sound effects as boozy billionaire genius playboy Tony Stark works his way up from the 1.0 version of the suit he builds to escape from some al-Qaida style bad dudes who kidnap him in the desert somewhere.

The supporting cast isn't bad either: chimp hero Jeff Bridges rocks a mean bald/beard combo and does a good growl throughout. Gwyneth Paltrow is a bit blank, and keeps changing her hairstyle a lot, but isn't too bad as Stark's long-suffering PA Pepper Pots (howcome all superheroes get potential girlfriends with alliterative names?). If you're a Marvel fan, you'll enjoy the "next time" nod from Terence Howard's military man when he gets to check out the suits.

On the down side, there are some awful product placement moments from various cars and burger chains who've forked over big $$$ to get in there - hasn't anyone in Hollywood seen Austin Powers?!

Not sure the politics are really that thought through either: he's an arms manufacturer who gets upset when he sees his weapons blowing things up for the wrong people, so he decides to blow them up, but still let his company sell weapons to the good guys (America)? eh? Er, here the RDJ charm offensive comes into full swing: never mind that, here's another smart line from Downey...

Bound to be a franchise. Could have done with the full Black Sabbath tune somewhere in there too. Just about fun enough.

#Film
#chimp71

1st May 2008 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Flight Of The Conchords

Flight Of The Conchords

Sub Pop

The novelty comedy record is a tricky path to tread. It's fun on your initial saunter, then maybe again with a friend it might still hold some of the same appeal, but soon after these initial promenades, this little path will rarely be trodden again. This can't, however, be said for Sub Pop's most genius release to date. The HBO series Flight Of The Conchords told the story of 2 musicians from New Zealand, Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement who, with the (mis)guidance of their agent Murray, go to New York to try and make it big. In the all too short half hour episodes they usually treated us to a couple of songs that really had little to do with the plot but were a sheer joy to behold. Dealing with such complex themes as ATM charges, racist fruit sellers or supernatural visits from bygone era David Bowie, the songs took on a myriad of musical genres and were never short of hilarious. Knowing that the songs came first and HBO built the series around their narrative makes this album even more valid and having just completed my 27th listen it's still as sharp as ever.

Not only is the comedy album a tough gig, but to take these songs out of the context in which they were originally experienced (i.e. the elaborate fantasy settings Bret and Jermain found themselves in in their made-up rock n roll success story), really puts their audio comedy to the test. The result is a deeper appreciation of their writing. Each song is so loaded with gags that in this format one is able to marvel at nugget after nugget of well crafted comedy. Hiphoppopotamus Vs. Rhymenoceros was an early favorite on the show and it retains its title here. With lines like Jemaine's "Yeah sometimes my lyrics are sexist but you lovely bitches and hoes should know I'm trying to correct this." and when, after Bret's statement, "other rappers diss me, saying my rhymes are sissy, why? Why? " Jemaine interjects, " be more constructive with your feedback," you start to marvel at how these two white Kiwis manage to totally ridicule a whole hip hop genre so charmingly. Other highlights include Jemaine, on Think About It, pondering the state of the world where slave kids are forced to make sneakers but the sneakers don't seem to get any cheaper, exclaiming at the top of his voice: "What are your overheads?" or the binary solo on the fabulous Robots. It's hard to pick a favorite but Business Time hits the spot every time. The phrase for letting your lover know when it's time to make "sweet weekly love" must soon find its way into the dictionary, and after making enough love for two... minutes what better way to end it than to tell your partner "business hours are over baby." 

The problem I've found with this isn't its lack of repeated listen appeal but its potential to ruin just about every genre of music there is. Its spot-on parodies and razor-sharp observations will serve as a kiss of death to the afore mentioned hip-hop genre, Serge Gainsbourg, Dance Hall Ragga, Kraftwerk, The Pet Shop Boys and most certainly David Bowie. Since the TV show I've found it hard to listen to the final minute of Radiohead's Down Is The New Up, due to its striking similarities to these guys. But the destruction and ridicule of pop history is a small price to pay, so I urge you all to succumb to Bret and Jemaine's "groovitational pull" and check this out.

#Music
#BC

1st May 2008 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Dead Child

Attack

Touch & Go

Dead Child is a side-project for renowned post-rock guitarist Dave Pajo - formerly of Slint and occasional member of Tortoise. I've always rated Pajo ; I think his playing puts him in the league of great American left-field guitarists such as Marc Ribot or Bill Frisell, and so I was intrigued to hear this record since it's being touted as Pajo's hommage to the music of his youth - Heavy Metal. Now, I like chunky rock. I'm a sucker for an overdriven guitar playing choppy riffs and squalling lead breaks, and that's a pretty good prospect in the hands of someone like Pajo, and on this front the record really delivers. Great tight production, with drums bass and guitar providing a high-energy modern sound and riffs as tight as Fu Manchu. However...

In paying hommage to Metal, the band has chosen to utilise the vocal skills of Dahm (Phantom Family Halo) and this is where things take a turn for the worse. The problem is that Dahm's vocal style and comic-book lyrics are just plain corny. The words are a collection of schoolboy metal cliches presented in stock rhyming-couplet pairs, and his vocal delivery sounds like it's all a big joke - I'm reminded of Electric Six . This works against the strong backing tracks; it's a gourmet meal smothered in ketchup, an Aston Martin with fluffy dice. The overall effect is that the music and the vocals are almost at odds with each other. Perhaps that was deliberate, but it's as if Dead Child can't decide whether they are serious or not. Sadly, "not" wins.

In fact, so horrible are the vocals that it puts me off listening to what could have been a great record. I appreciate the fact that it's hard to be original in the world of metal vocals, but even the throat-rasping cookie-monster stylings of grindcore would be preferable to this. A great set of tunes reduced to dismissable nonsense.

#Music
#HarrisPilton

30th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Tindersticks

The Hungry Saw

Beggars

With no sign of a new album in several years, Tindersticks' one-off show at the Barbican in 2006 seemed likely to be their last outing together, serving as an acknowledgement that they were over. Perhaps Stuart A. Staples underwhelming solo releases have changed their minds, but from out of the blue a new album has arrived, featuring a stripped down line up but all the hallmarks of the old band.

It seems like longer than four years since they most recently hit the highs of Whiskey & Water, A Night In, or Travelling Light - and I'm happy to admit that I was not holding out much hope for this one. While they may have done nothing wrong, I grew tired of the Tindersticks - perhaps overloading on their various non-album releases, such as their mostly instrumental soundtracks and sprawling re-releases. On the first listen some of The Hungry Saw may seem pretty average, lacking much of the bombastic flourishes that elevate their best work, but after a little wearing-in, this album really starts to flourish - revealing many of the band signature flourishes.

Like a slumbering giant, gently waking from a cider soaked evening, Intro plays out like the soundtrack to some expressive dance, as one by one the instruments awake and the Tindertsicks welcome us back into their open arms. With the giant awakened, the band fire up the old charm and we're instantly back at their best with Yesterday Tomorrows. There's a soundtrack vibe to many songs on this very visual album - with extended passages of music often leading into, or in some case replacing the lyrics. Having a full band behind him seems to have filled in the gaps that peppered Staples' solo albums.

Single The Flicker Of A Little Girl, is illustrative of the album, but it's deceptivly upbeat - and it's the more epic songs like The Other Side Of The World and the oustanding Boobar that stand this record up with the bands best work. Melancholic. Uplifting. Soulful. Nostalgic. Over-the-top. Understated. All the best ingredients for classic Tindersticks. The only thing missing could be a Whiskey chaser to wash it all down.

#Music
#CSF

28th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Oxford Collapse

The Windmill, Brixton, London

Looking around the empty pub it seemed unlikely that Brooklyn rockers Oxford Collapse would be the skinny-jeaned, curly haired chap, or that head-banded trendy in the corner. Of course not. These guys had graduated from the US school of indie rock and had the tattoos and beards to prove it.

The half-empty venue did nothing to dissuade the band from kicking out 'all the hits,' as smart mouthed, charismatic front man Michael Pace led them through the best of last years Remember The Night Parties - with Lady Lawyers, In Your Volcano and Kenny Can't Afford It amongst the songs getting enthusiastic renditions, complete with guitar heroism from Pace and bassist Adam Rizer.

The Boys Go Home from A Good Ground was also dusted off, as well as previews of several tracks from forthcoming album Bits. The sound might have sucked, and the under-informed crowds of London may have missed out, but the band have certainly nabbed themselves a spot in my list of most anticipated releases for 2008.

"This is a blues riff in B, watch me for the changes and try and keep up." Once that cymbal is fixed of course.

#Music
#Gig
#CSF

26th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Animal Collective

Water Curses

Domino

Having anticipated and enjoyed every new release from Sung Tongs onwards, I was surprised to find myself a little less than enthusiastic at a brand new EP from the Animal Collective. The possible reason for my slight reservation towards new material from what I deem to be currently one of the most interesting and baffling bands is too much too soon.

Water Curses consists of four songs, three of which are the remains from the Strawberry Jam sessions and one new track. Not sure which is which but they do vary in tone and texture as is often the case but what struck me is how consistently enjoyable these songs are. Nothing here is a great departure from their recent back catalogue, but no matter how highly I rate Animal Collective it is often a laborious process to get from the start of an album to the finish. Regardless of the need for patience I always feel rewarded for the effort. It certainly took a lot less time to appreciate the four tracks here and they even had me humming one of the many melodies that swirl in out from the first listen.

The title track Water Curses is the first and most accessible track, it is a short and sweet song gently sang with no vocal extremities to deter the casual listener. The customary noises are there but restrained by the strong melody, it is only the high pitched mock organ that adds the expected twist. The following songs do demand more attention but benefit from a contrasting tone, as they fleet and float in their awkward structures.

Given it is an EP, which I often associate as filler between more significant releases, this does stand head and shoulders as the best form of introduction to this eclectic band. This is partly down to having only four tracks, which is just enough not be annoyed by their originality but to appreciate it.

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#R.Hammerstein

25th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Birds of Avalon

Bazaar Bazaar

Volcom

There's a lot of unapologetic music being made recently and the debut album from Birds Of Avalon has to top the lot. It would be a fun experiment to wire a music reviewer up to some high voltage and tell him to describe Bazaar Bazaar to someone who hasn't heard it - the catch being that if he mentions any other rock band in his description he gets zapped. It would be a pretty tough gig as this band reference just about every 1970's rock heavy-weight that's ever picked up a plectrum and that's just in the first song.

But that's not to say this isn't a good listen. Their lack of apology doesn't come across as tongue-in-cheek like The Darkness and their grasp of the genre may be obvious but it's a firm one and is delivered with all the might and sincerity of their mentors. They demand an open mind from their listeners by their title alone. Birds Of Avalon conjure up disastrous Spinal Tap visions, some very small Stone Henges and the sickly smell of patchouli oil - so from the opening chords of the equally questionable titled Bicentennial Baby you are pleasantly surprised. Craig Tilly's vocals instantly recall Black Sabbath or early Cheap Trick and as that recollection never leaves your side the album powers on through the Pink Floyd keyboards of Instant Coma, the Led Zeppelin psychedelia of Wanderlust and the shamelessly Steely Dan intro of Superpower. Chuck in two scoops of Hawkwind, a soupcon of Peter Frampton, eight heaped table spoons of Thin Lizzy and you've got yourself a tasty little rock cake.

When forming an opinion about Bazaar Bazaar one is presented with a quandary indeed. This is a very enjoyable listen. The riffs are tough, the drums are as furious as you'd want them to be and Tilly's vocals are as soaring, pretentious and vague as you would expect, BUT, the fact that it's all so regressive casts a major shadow over the whole thing. I don't need every album I listen to to reinvent the wheel but this is taking it a bit far. It's obviously aimed at fans of this genre and yet it's references will be sniffed out in an instant and like a bleeding limb in a shark pool will attract criticism from far and wide. But then again, maybe I'm giving this way too much thought. Though this is pretty much the sum of it's references it still rocks in all the right places when turned up to eleven.

#Music
#BC

24th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Atlas Sound

Let The Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel

4AD

"The dream of one summer, this last summer I had. It's almost as if I had one continuous dream and the product of achieving it is the album you have here." And so writes Bradford Cox, the creator behind Deerhunter and this, his earliest incarnation and solo pursuit, Atlas Sound. Let The Blind... is the debut album under this name and "one continuous dream" would be an accurate way to describe it. With themes of nostalgia and childhood infiltrating every pore of this sound much of its conception can be attributed to one whole summer where, as a 16 year old, Cox lay immobilized in a children's hospital undergoing surgery on his back and chest. This lost summer, spent bedridden and gazing longingly at the world, echoes the bleached out warmth of this sound and the endless dream-like imagery that loom in and out of focus throughout the record.

Let The Blind... is the vehicle by which Cox can express the ideas he feels unable to in Deerhunter. It's a one man bedroom recording of great depth and beauty that spends much of its time swimming in hazy pools of warmth while occasionally rising to minimal peaks of focus before receding back again. It employs similar washes of sound as Deerhunter's 2007 Cryptograms but assumes the roll of its more reserved cousin, lonely and sedated it spends its time indoors dreaming and anticipating.

A muffled child's voice clumsily narrates a ghost story in the opening few moments only to be overcome by a slow approaching wave of sampled glockenspiel that blissfully fades to the gentle rhythms and distant vocals of Recent Bedroom. Cox uses repetition to convey this dreamlike state with looping vocal formations drifting in and out of the listeners consciousness like the various stages of sleep. As the distant muffle of Recent Bedroom gives way to the crisp and clear pitter-patter of River Card you can feel yourself rising from slumber with ease and gentleness. Cold As Ice sees you fall back into the abyss only to be summoned back with angelic grandeur by the chiming synths of Small Horror. From the clipped drum roll of River Card to the sunken 4/4 techno beat of Winter Vacation, Cox smothers every minute of this record in rich effects conjured from homemade electronica.

Compared to his work with Deerhunter this is very much the sound of an individual. Sonically and thematically Let The Blind... describes the space inhabited by this one individual, be it the swirling pastoral landscape of his mind or the confines of a hospital bed. This is a very personal piece of work which manages to shimmer with warmth and shiver with icy melancholy. On Quarantined he sings "quarantined and kept so far away from friends," so his only option is to escape into this dream while he lies there "waiting to be changed."

As the closing fuzz of the final title track echoes opener A Ghost Story, you really have to emerge from this record to rejoin the real world. It's effects are subtle and it's not until it fades away that the spell is revealed and you realise how deep you have been taken. This is an abstract musical journey and seems to flow with a disjointed perfection that makes it work best as a unified whole rather than a collection of songs. It's headphone music to really disappear to and like most of Cox's work it's a fiercely original sound that knows exactly where its going and will take as long as it wants to get there. Your only choice is whether you've got what it takes to tag along.

#Music
#BC

22nd Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet