Chimpomatic

Loose Fur

Born Again In The USA

As one gets older we notice things about our personalities that we either like or dislike and as much as we tried to fight them when we were younger we soon give up and learn to accept them. We even start to warm to some traits and see them as important threads in the marvellous tapestry that is us, despite the fact that they annoy the hell out of people around us and sometimes land us in jail. Recently I have discovered one of these facts about my personality and in the words of the Dude “Some new shit has come to light.” I have discovered that I have the worrying ability to become so totally obsessed and consumed by something that all logic and sense leave me when it enters my thought. About a month ago the subject of my obsessions became anything Wilco/Tweedy. It seems like we have waited far too long for new Wilco material and I just couldn’t take it. So I would spend hours, days combing the internet for anything Jeff Tweedy had ever put his hand to, any collaboration, any live morsel even if it was recorded from the toilets.

So you can imagine my delight when Loose Fur’s second album landed. Finally something legitimate and legal to quench my insatiable thirst. Like any addiction quality rarely comes into it, so it took me a while to ask myself if this album was any good. And it is, though not reaching the dizzy heights of pure genius that Wilco reside in. It goes without saying that my favourite moments are when Jeff is on point but on the whole this is a solid piece of work with just the right mix of straight up rock, melody subtlety and experimentation. It seems like less of a side project for the boys ( Jeff Tweedy, Jim O’Rourke and Glenn Kotche) and yet still manages to sound like three musicians enjoying a day off. This is seen quite clearly in The Ruling Class, a jaunty little number about Jesus shooting crack. Further on there’s a great instrumental song An Ecumenical Matter which really shows off the compositional skill of this dream team. And the album finishes with 2 songs worthy of any Wilco B side. Wreckroom with its fantastic guitar solo’s reminiscent of the jaw dropping opener on Wilco’s A Ghost Is Born and the slightly Sesame Street sounding finale of Wanted.

This album will certainly keep me satisfied until the next Wilco offering and maybe if I stay away from him long enough Jeff and his layers might just lift this damn restraining order.

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11th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Calexico

Garden Ruin

The problem with rewriting any rule book is that quite often you are then forbidden to follow those new rules, this is left to the lesser beings that are content to bring up the rear. Instead you are constantly expected to lead the way. Trust me, I speak from experience, this is the burden I must shoulder and so too must Joey Burns and his band of merry Mariachi’s. Since their departure from pioneering alt-country group Giant Sand, Calexico have set the pace in this most creative of genres reaching their creative peak with 2003’s Feast Of Wire. With their recent offering the band adopt a more direct approach producing a much less challenging yet still high quality and more palatable piece of work.

I wasn’t blown away by the first 3 songs and it was all riding on the fourth, if this didn’t stop me in my tracks I would have to exercise my ‘Suck it and see’ rights at Fopp. Luckily for me (you tend to get dirty looks by the Fopp staff if you ‘Suck’ too often) Panic Open String though not a clincher made me take notice, and I continued to take notice with the next 2 songs. Letter To Bowie Knife seemed to bring some weight to the album and Roka heralded a return to familiar territory for Calexico, that of sun-drenched, dusty tex-mex arrangements. But the two moments that really confirmed its place for me came near the end with Deep Down, a slow building triumph that really wets your appetite for the grand finale that is All Systems Red. Here the boys really pull out all the stops and build up the tempo so slowly and so intensely that what is otherwise quite a low key, safe album leaves you gasping and exhausted and surprisingly thrilled.

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11th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Britt Daniel & Bright Eyes

Home: Volume IV

The teaming up of various artistic greats is not always a recipe for success, as Real Madrid found in this seasons Champions League and James Lavelle and DJ Shadow found on Psyence Fiction. But on this 4 song EP from Spoon frontman Britt Daniel and Bright Eyes the collaboration works to great effect. They complement each other very well. Oberst lends his trademark intensity and passion to the mix and although I am a huge fan of anything by Bright Eyes, Daniel manages to amp up what can sometimes be quite a whimpering and whining sound with some bass heavy Spoon magic. As a result the Britt tracks are the stand out moments with ‘You Get Yours’ being better than most Spoon songs. This sounds all the better with Conor’s backing vocals being shrieked from the back of the recording studio. A great piece of work that more than moistens the appetite for future collaborations. If only they could find room for Jeff Tweedy.

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11th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou

(dir. Wes Anderson)

With his career fast heading for the rocks, washed up oceanographer/documentalist Steve Zissou (Bill Murray) embarks on one final mission to find, and kill, the rare Jaguar Shark that ate his best friend. And off they set onto the high seas, under the captaincy of the pot-smoking Zissou, the watchful eye of a heavily pregnant reporter (Cate Blanchett), Zissou's soon to be ex-wife (Anjelica Huston) the on board guitarist and his Brazilian Bowie covers, a stiff from the insurance company and a few interns. Joining this crew of bobble-hatted misfits is Ned (Owen Wilson) who may or may not be his son.

Murray invests enough feeling into Zissou to lift him above simply being 'Bill Murray' in amusing costumes, whilst Wilson happily goes toe-to-toe with Murray in their Saharan battle of dry humour. The rest of the cast roll up their sleeves and get stuck into their roles, with Willem Dafoe being particularly excellent (Not something i've said for a while).

Director Wes Anderson now has 4 films under his belt and is yet to put a foot wrong. With his offbeat stories, always imaginatively and colourfully shot, excellent soundtracks and performances, he has achieved that desired goal of creative filmmakers and created a new genre 'A Wes Anderson Film'. Until further reviews are posted, his previous films - Bottle Rocket, Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums are all highly recommended. According to IMDB he's down to make Roald Dahl's Fantastic Mr Fox next - most intriguing.

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11th Apr 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Pink Mountaintops

Axis Of Evol

Jagjaguwar

More low down and dirty stoner rock from Steve McBean, the man who brought us 2005’s self titled Black Mountain. Axis Of Evol is a slightly more sedated affair than Black Mountain but the sentiment is the same. On both ventures McBean talks to us like a mysterious bible toting preacher man who rode into town to either save our souls from Satan or steal them as punishment for all our earthly sins. The music here is so slushy and sleazy you just know that whatever agenda this preacher has he has seen his fair share of smut. Lord Let Us Shine starts off with an electronic beat so grimy it could be used for an early 2 Live Crew backing track for some dirty stripper ass shaking but instead turns into a gospel like euphoric prayer to the Lord above.

This album with its themes of warfare, Armageddon and generally anything penned by the Devil himself is a damn good listen. It threatens to rock out at any moment but never does, McBean assures us of this on Comas when he states “No, I’m not headed down a highway to hell,” (loosely translated, “You listen to AC/DC you pay the price.”)

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10th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The National

Alligator

Along with Arcade Fire this album was one of the highlights of 2005. I wasn’t that familiar with The National before this but soon became obsessed with Alligator. It is so infectious and unlike anything I can think of. Lyrically this album is fascinating. Curious and often beautiful poetry is delivered with deep, baritone restraint by front man Matt Berninger. The often confessional subject matter is strangely hopeful and yet tinged with melancholy

The National hail from Brooklyn (or is it Ohio - Ed.) and yet have little in common both thematically or musically with the New York house style we are used to hearing. Lyrics like “My bodyguard shows her revolver to anyone who asks and yes she comes to attention when you come up to me too fast,” and “Come be my waitress and serve me tonight, serve me the sky with a big slice of lemon,” hint at a surreal and yet romantic view of this world that thought provoking and touching. It’s hard to break this album down into standout tracks as it is such a complete work of unrivalled originality but if I had to I would say Lit Up, Friend Of Mine and Geese Of Beverly Road simply rule.

Alligator is the reason I constantly find myself trawling through the new releases, because every so often you come across something like this that moves you with its beauty, its honesty and its quality. The trouble is that everything else gets judged accordingly and I am rarely satisfied now.

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10th Apr 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Spoon

Gimme Fiction

I always imagine ten-pin bowling competitions to be really boring. They basically wait for their opponent to slip up slightly and not get a strike. If Spoon was your opponent you just know that they aren’t going to slip up any time soon judging by their last five bowls and you’re in for a long night. They are such a solid band. Even if you search their back catalogue for a sign of weakness expecting to find a Pablo Honey, you wont. Their style has changed over the years but they make consistently good albums. Gimme Fiction, their fifth full-length album, is yet another strike from Britt Daniel and the boys from Texas.

I think what makes it so refreshingly different from all the other bands we hear today is its musical composition. It’s nothing too experimental but the emphasis is on rhythm and bass rather than lead guitar. The drums run the show coming in heavy and loud and do so much more than merely provide a backbone for a song. Britt’s vocals fit in perfectly with this rhythm, he seems so into this beat often dropping in the odd ‘yeah, alright’ in between versus.

Standout tracks include Mathematical Mind, a fantastic song that rolls along on a piano bass line and slowly builds to a cacophony of drums and symbols, with Britt’s guitar stuttering awkwardly over the top, stabbing erratically. This track was great live as Britt would stagger over to the corner of the stage in his own world hammering furiously at his strings like Richie Cunningham possessed by John Coltrane. Another highlight is I Summon You, one of the more regular acoustic based songs - but again accompanied by some great drumming. What I wouldn’t give to be on a camping trip with Mr Daniel, sat round the fire, bellies full of some grilled wild animal, a couple of brewski’s in hand and Britt reaching over for his well travelled beat up old acoustic guitar, “D’ya know this one?” he asks as I slowly drift off to sleep to the hypnotic strumming of I Summon You. Perfect.

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10th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

My Latest Novel

Wolves

I first found out about this band sometime last year as I was recovering from post Arcade Fire blues and was searching the musical horizons for anything that might be on the way to satisfy my creative cravings that Funeral had just ignited. Their first single Sister Sneaker Sister Soul gave me a bit of hope. I then saw them support Sufjan Stevens and took their average performance as a warning that this was not where my next fix was going to come from. Then came Wolves, the debut album, and with it the death of all my hopes. It made me feel slightly embarrassed that I ever looked their way for what I craved.

It’s not that Wolves is a bad album, far from it, it’s better than a lot of stuff out at the moment. It’s just that it takes itself so damn seriously. If Wolves was one of my friends I think I would try to avoid them and make up some lame excuse every time they invited me out for a drink. They would constantly and predictably remind me of how bad McDonalds was as I stuffed a Big Mac and fries down my throat and would probably never buy a round.

But this purchase wasn’t a total disaster, due to Fopp's ‘Suck It And See’ policy I was able to exchange it for the new Morrissey offering which made me think that My Latest Novel need a lesson from The Pope Of Mope himself on how to take yourself seriously with your tongue firmly in your cheek.

Thank God Clap Your Hands came along and I got my fix in the end.

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5th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Show Your Bones

Wichita

This wasn’t an album I was anticipating with baited breath, but it has slowly made its way to the top of my recent purchases pile.

Show Your Bones is the follow up to 2003’s critically acclaimed debut Fever To Tell which never seems to impress me as much as it does everyone else. It's a bit like the album equivalent of Reservoir Dogs. While I consider it a fantastic piece of art and have the utmost respect for it, it’s not something I am likely to stick on over lunch. There is only so much pummelling I can take and Show Your Bones has impressed me for this very reason (the Tarantino comparison stops here, Show Your Bones is no Pulp Fiction) It has retained the grit and muscle of its predecessor but seems to give a gracious and subtle nod towards commercialism. It is more rhythmical, more melodic and just more appealing.

This is evident from the opening track Gold Lion, with its acoustic strumming being slowly obliterated by the inevitable wave of dirty guitar. Way Out follows a similar pattern and Fancy finds us in more YYY familiar territory with the Karen O’s trademark growl/banshee wail scratching its grubby nails down the wall of guitar and percussion. But the stand out track has got to be Warrior. It starts like a song you might stumble across on some far off obscure stage at an alt folk festival but soon picks up its feet and starts running with the line “this road’s gonna end on me.’ I’m sure it will at some point, but on this evidence there seems to be a lot more road ahead.

This album smacks of a follow up that will make die hard YYY fans scoff at people like me for preferring it but as Brakes say in Heard About Your Band, “You shared a cab with Karen O, OO,OOO,” roughly translated means ‘I don’t give a shit.’

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5th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Wilco

A Ghost Is Born

The other day during a particularly busy period at work I embarked on a ‘best of Wilco’ playlist and found that every track bar one off their most recent offering had to feature. Except for the 15 minutes of amp hummmmm on track 11 this is a perfect album. The reader may have just taken a sharp intake of breath at that controversial word ‘perfect’ that I just threw in there but I don’t care, I stand by that word.

When I first encountered Wilco they were way out in front on the ever-expanding alt-country scene and were making simple yet great songs. This style seemed to be changing with the release of 2002’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and now with A Ghost Is Born Jeff Tweedy has taken his band into the realms of experimental rock genius. Largely due to the production, courtesy of the mighty Jim O’Rourke, this record sees Wilco turn a very important and difficult corner. From the outset you can see that the agenda has changed here. At Least That’s What You Said is one of the greatest and bravest ways to open an album, it’s soft bitter-sweet vocal intro turns in to 4 minute crunching guitar solo that leaves you breathless and exhausted and the album has only just begun. And if, during Hell Is Chrome, you found yourself relaxing into comfortable Wilco territory Spiders(Kidsmoke) soon jolts you to your feet throwing the alt-country rule book so far out the window you wonder if they ever read it, let alone wrote it. Clocking in at over 10 minutes and with a fantastic electronic beat for a backbone this song sounds more like early Roxy Music than our beloved Wilco with its occasional vocals and screeching, stabbing and totally freeform guitar solos. Then you’ve got Muzzle of Bees, Hummingbird, Handshake Drugs, the list goes on and on and the standard set in the first track is upheld right up to the very last note.

This is the album that convinced me to call my first born child Wilco, boy or girl. I’m just glad I’m not obsessed with ‘Pink Martini.’

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5th Apr 2006 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Why?

Elephant Eyelash

I wanted to review this album for a few reasons. Firstly because it’s a great album and secondly because I feel the hallowed halls of Chimp Towers needs to reprezent for the underground hip-hop.

Why?, aka Yoni Wolf is one third of the genius that was cLOUDDEAD and has put his skills to many fine releases from the ever-changing and ever-ground breaking Anticon label. Elephant Eyelash seems to have a coherency and focus that has sometimes been missing from a lot of Wolf’s many endeavours. He is a lyricist like no other who delivers playful yet dark sing/speak vocals with an awe inspiring attention to every syllable. It is a strangely uplifting experience which leaves you wondering why you were just joyously singing along to lines like “Unfold an origami death mask/ And cut my DNA with rubber traits/ Pull apart the double helix like a wishbone/ Always be working on a suicide note.”

Anything by this artist is challenging but so worth your time. This album and countless other on this label offers a rare musical experience, a chance to listen and appreciate music that is indefinable and carries with it no genre baggage. My iTunes says ‘Folk’ but I say Why? Stand out tracks include Sanddollars, Rubber Traits, Fall Saddles and Gemini (Birthday Song)

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5th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Shakti

Colston Hall - Bristol

It's not every day that a band containing Miles Davis' former guitarist treats you to the first ever public performance of a piece that was written that very afternoon. But this is exactly what happened at the stunning Shakti concert in Bristol's Colston Hall on Saturday night. The first half of the show consisted of several old favourites, all executed with the usual baffling precision and togetherness, but we got the new song shortly after the interval. (I like concerts with intervals. Why can't all acts do this?) While John McLaughlin smiled on in his usual benign way, Zakir Hussain - surely the world's greatest percussionist - introduced the piece, which he called something like 'John_@uk.com'. (For all their endless brilliance, Shakti have never been too good at coming up with titles. Still, it's a bit snappier than the old classic 'What Need Have I for This, What Need Have I For That, I Am Dancing at the Feet of my Lord, All is Bliss, All is Bliss) The band then launched into an incredibly (and typically) intricate piece ... but they played it perfectly. I'm still at a loss to describe how well these people improvise together. The band, whether in its four- or five-piece incarnation, really is like an organic creature that instinctively knows what each part of its body is about to do. The improvised four-way call-and-response section of one of the pieces in the second half was simply beyond comprehension. The only truly depressing thing about seeing John McLaughlin play live, though, is realizing just how inadequate your own guitar skills are.

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3rd Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Bright Eyes

I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning

In years to come, if anyone asks what life was like in the first decade of the 21st century, a few listens through of 'I'm Wide Awake It's Morning' might not be a bad place to start. Conor 'Bright Eyes' Oberst's 2005 journal opens up with a converation between helpless passengers on a doomed plane heading straight for the ocean (At the Bottom of Everything) and closes 10 songs later, emboldened and ready to take on a new dawn (Road To Joy). In between he opens himself up and his gives his take on various relationships; Relationships with girls, starting them, ending them, starting them again. Relationships with his family and above all his relationship to a Bush-era world at war with itself.

Essentially a man-and-his-guitar folk album and not unlike legendary predecessors Neil Young and Bob Dylan, his unique vocal style (like he is gargling mouthwash) has potential to grate after a while. But it is the intelligence and intimacy of his words that sparkle - and saw him sell enough copies to top the American album charts, striking enough chords with millions of others who share these feelings of isolation, loneliness and confusion at the top of the new millenium.

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23rd Mar 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet