Chimpomatic

Kieran Hebden & Steve Reid

NYC

Domino

For their fourth collaborative album in 3 years, Kieran Hebden and Steve Reid turn to Reid's home town for inspiration. Recorded at the famous Manhattan studio Avatar, that has seen artists such as Miles Davis, Steve Reich and The Roots pass through its hallowed doorway, this album draws from the sounds and feel of New York City. With past recordings being challenging to the extreme, NYC seems to incorporate all the ground that these two artists have covered in the past and has managed to bring it all into line for what must be their best and most certainly their most accessible album to date.

All six songs rely on the contrast of simplicity and complexity with each structure being drastically stripped down compositions that employ an incredibly limited musical pallet. Having said that, each song glistens with intricate complexities that are packed into their formless shell with seeming abandon. Hebden is credited with providing simply "electronics" which heavily understates his contribution. Each track is laced with his trademark texture consisting of swirling atmospherics, mumbling white noise and clipped electric guitar. But of course at the centre of all this is Reid's drumming. Like a flock of swallows flying in unison, Reid's drumming holds all the elements together as it darts from one place to the next. It is the basis of each composition and yet drifts along with utter freedom. It can provide backing texture to Hebden's twiddling and samples or it can rise to centre stage with awesome strength and confidence.

The most challenging moment is chosen to lead the album, with Lyman Place kicking things off with an incredibly tense seven minute opener. It's like being in a lift in the tallest building in the world and watching the floor-count rise higher and higher with ever increasing speeds. If you can get past this, the record really starts with 1st & 1st. Like the credit crunch has bitten into the supply of musical notes, this song is built around a 4 or 5 note funk hook that is repeated in all its forms as Reid's drums take on almost tribal rhythm. 25th Street really captures the chaos of Manhattan's streets as frantic drumming churns inside out along with a multitude of fractured samples, including what sounds like the last sips of a McDonalds coke through a straw. Hebden's triumphant EP released earlier this year is brought to mind as this chaos effortlessly slips into a regular 4/4 beat towards the end, but he miraculously manages to restrain himself form this form and structure and lets the beat see out the rest of the song but continue no further. Arrival and Between B&C adopt a more abstract approach and choose a blanket-type structure that covers the whole song in feather-light cymbals and astral synths. But, when mid-way through Between B&C the drum roll ceases and a deep piano melody drops in, the result is electrifying.

Departure closes the album with a ground-mat of delicate, looping glockenspiel that recalls Hebden's early work as Four Tet. It's a beautiful way to finish and it simply gleams with jewell-like clarity and sensitivity. Reid really embeds his drumming deep into the distance and it's from this all encompassing bed of rhythm that Hebden's restrained percussion sparkles. It's a gentle way to close this accomplished recording and really completes the journey through this city, a journey that has been terrifying, mesmerising, hypnotic, exciting and ultimately blissful. Avatar's musical ghosts haunt every beat of this record as it brings into harmony the free-form creativity of MIles Davis, the avant-guard flare of Steve Reich and the The Roots' sense of rhythm. It oozes tradition and yet is acutely contemporary and is the glorious sum of many years of ceaseless creative pursuit by both artists and something not to be missed.

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#BC

6th Nov 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Melvins / Big Business / Porn

Concorde 2, Brighton, October 6th 2008

The Melvins return to our shores after an 18 month absence to promote their latest album Nude With Boots, and this time they've opted to play only a few regional dates around the UK after a tour of mainland Europe. So it's off to Brighton for an evening at the Seaside in the company of the Melvins and their modular support act system. First up are (Men Of) Porn - Tim Moss's experimental trio with Melvins drummer Dale Crover, and usually a member of the road crew on bass - Moss is the Melvins tour manager so this is really a family affair. What Moss does is to set up walls of guitar distortion which he modulates with all manner of electronics, and tonight things were much more drone than riff. The sound in Concorde 2 was, by the way, crisp and very loud.

Next up are Bass/Drums duo Big Business, who count as 50% of the Melvins. They deliver a short and powerful set including hands up, Shields, Grounds For Divorce, Easter Romantic and several new tracks. Crover comes back on to play guitar midway through the set and the crowd really start to heat up.

After a five minute break, the Melvins start up with the title track from their latest album - Nude With Boots. Twin drummers Dale Crover and Coady Willis are locked together really tight tonight, and King Buzzo looks almost cheerful. They play a great set with lots of tracks from their two most recent albums (the ones which feature Big Business), and a few Melvins classics including Eyes Flies, Honeybucket, Tipping The Lion and a spectacular version of Boris to close the set. Most of the punters are half the band's age, and show their appreciation by moshing ceaselessly. A top night out at the seaside.

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#Gig
#HarrisPilton

9th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Constantines

Kensington Heights

Arts & Crafts

Constantines have always been a puzzling band indeed. Since their debut they have pumped out a sound that borrowed from so many staple institutions they couldn't help to please. From the punk sounds of The Clash and more recent ferocity of bands like Fugazi, Constantines have managed to fuse this with the stadium-rock ambition of Springsteen and create music that would swell with each listen. And yet none of their albums have quite hit the mark. 2005's Tournament Of Hearts comes the closest and with it came the hope of a fine tuning process that was gloriously close to fruition. Songs like the awesome Hotline Operator showed the band becoming well aware of their strengths. This year's Kensington Heights fails to capatalise on 2005's successes and is yet again a good album - but one that leaves you wanting more.

Named after the street where the band's rehearsal studio is located, Kensington Heights sees their sound heading the other way to what Tournament Of Hearts hinted at. But then it's never as easy as that with Constantines. The first half of the record is bang on target, and the second half is by no means bad, but not the full throttle you were hoping for. Opener Hard Feelings sees Bryan Webb's rasping vocals straining over hard, driving guitars and that's just where you want them. Million Star Hotel is a much more plodding pace; the beats are slow but pounding and the feeling is menacing and brooding with Webb starting to let his voice go over skyward, squealing guitars. Trans Canada is the pinnacle of these two songs and by this point you really feel like things are starting to get interesting and Constantines are beginning to hit their stride. It could be twinned with the aforementioned Hotline Operator as it simmers with hard-fought restraint as it builds its fortress on a mighty chugging beat that swirls with subtle effects. The tension is induced by the idling guitar that haunts every corner of the song like an engine ticking over outside your window. Shower Of Stones is a strange, almost spoken word ticking time-bomb that is unlike any other Constantines song and would be simply stunning if it marked the halfway point where the album disappears into a home-straight of chaotic venom.

Unfortunately it signals the opposite. Instead of summoning the spirit of Fugazi, Buffalo Tom seems to be more influential here as songs like Time Can Be Overcome and Brother Run Them Down drift by on the gentlest of breezes and show the band easing down a gear. They rarely let rip but, like watching someone feed your baby with an AK47 under his arm, their success has always involved tension and the threat of violence. They are a band who possess a great power but as a wise man once said, "with great power comes great responsibility." In my opinion Constantines' responsibility is to wield this power with the iron fist that befits them and sadly Kensington Heights does not do this to the extent that I would have liked.

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#BC

30th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Recount

(dir. Jay Roach)

HBO Films/ More 4

Fantastic dissection of the madness of the 2000 US election, when the world was left trying to work out what a hanging chad was and why it was keeping Al Gore from becoming President.

Even though you know the outcome (Bush stole it, Iraq 2.0 kicked off, thousands of people died) it's hard not to be swept up by the Democrats determination to play it out fairly and get the votes recounted. There's so much guff and propaganda talked about "democracy" from freedom lovers like Bush, that when you see what it actually comes down to up close and in action (adults arguing over tiny bits of paper on confusing ballot papers and what indentations may or may not signify), it's hard not to be at the very least, a little cynical.

At the same time, it presents a pretty forensic examination of the Republican attitude, and shows just how they manage to get their worldview across so fervently, using an intoxicating combination of lies, coercion, legal wrangling and attacks to simply wear down the nation - effectively planting the argument that the recount process was simply going on too long, so Gore really had better acquiesce because everyone was getting bored of trying to figure it out. Madness, but totally inspired media logic.

With a cast that includes Kevin Spacey, Bob Balaban, Ed Begley, Jr., Laura Dern, John Hurt, Denis Leary, Bruce McGill and Tom Wilkinson this is a quality outing, pushing the story along with real-life news footage and reconstructions.

It's already been on in the US, More4 are showing it 9pm, Fri 3 Oct - just before the first Vice-Presidential debate.

For further insight into the inner workings of the modern republican dirty tricks machine, BBC Four are showing Boogie Man: The Lee Atwater Story in their Storyville strand in a few weeks time, another essential recent history lesson.

#Film
#chimp71

29th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Heroes

Season 3, ep1: The Second Coming

ABC/BBC

Much better opening for the next chapter of Heroes: Villains. Really tested my powers of endurance last time with all that nonsense about the wonder twins who couldn't quite tell just why Sylar was such a bad tour guide. Sticking the most likable character, Hiro, waaaay back in the past (and not letting him time-jump out of it for almost the whole series) wasn't that great either, and having a neutered Sylar meant that the threat level just wasn't really there. Never quite got to grips with the whole Shanti virus thing either. 

Anyhow, this time we're back with Nathan Petrelli's shooting at his press conference - whodunnit and why? Not quite a question to keep us guessing like JR or Mr Burns, but not bad either. Seems like they've used the writers' strike break to focus it all a bit more. Hiro has a great beyond-the-grave dvd interaction with his dad Mr Sulu, Sylar's back to his evil watchmaker ways (is it my imagination or is there always a tick-tock sound effect whenever he's onscreen?), and Claire gets one of the best moments of the series so far when she manages to out-gross Sylar during a particularly uncomfortable moment. 

Mama Patrelli looks like she's shaping up to be more of a player this time, there's a new super-speedy girl who doesn't get affected by Hiro's time-stopping and it also looks like we're going to see some of the non-powered up cast joining the freaks. If it can keep up this pace then it might just have been worth wading through the last lot.

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#chimp71

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

TV On The Radio

Dear Science

4AD

Sweeping and ambitious in scope, this is an eclectic record with so many levels it will take literally weeks to properly decode. Near impossible to predict, the record twists and turns, changing key, pitch and tempo - but never seems disengaging.

Halfway Home starts the album with pounding drums, hand-claps and a be-bop harmony building up the pace and pressure quickly and steadily. The track is a perfect gateway into the album - to the point that that it momentarily seems to have escalated things prematurely to a momentum that cannot be maintained. Just when it can't build anymore, a last minute tempo shift takes things up another notch - leaving you floating on the full steam of this relentless album. Like a crash course in TVOTR you are now schooled and ready to proceed.

Described as having a 'pop edge', that edge could at its most accessible be described as being as equally inspired by the likes of N.E.R.D. or Outkast as by the more rock roots of T.V.O.T.R.'s previous records. The rapped vocals of Dancing Choose stray dangerously close to cringeworthy, holding strong on just the right side of Blondie or the Edge's embarrassing efforts for long enough to balanced out by the delicate chorus - just one of dozens of unpredictable changes in the electric song-writing of the album.

The sound may be wide, but never seems scattergun. It's radio friendly but still relatively weird - and as a band TV On The Radio seem thoroughly cohesive and dedicated to the task at hand. Dave Sitek's production is immaculate, polishing and smoothing the uncountable elements into a densely packed whole - from the Bob Marley-esque bass-line of Golden Age to the twisted ballad Family Tree, which slows the pace a little, pitched perfectly at the old "end of side one / start of side two" point on the record. Close in style to 4AD's own This Mortal Coil, the track layers slow vocals over delicate string arrangements, building beautifully in momentum to end with trip-hop drums.

Red Dress and Love Dog provide side two highlights, and by the time you make it through to the electric frenzy of DLZ, or the anthemic drums and brass-band of Lover's Day it's all become something of a rousing finale, bookending the record by maintaining the momentum of the opening track so totally, that there's an almost euphoric atmosphere as the last note passes. There's a substantial range of bonus track and limited-edition type versions of the album, but after the logical conclusion of Lover's Day I can't imagine they'll do much to improve the shape of this perfectly paced and superbly crafted album.

TV On The Radio set the bar pretty high with Return To Cookie Mountain, but I'm happy to report that their 2006 album now seems like The Bends next to Dear Science's OK Computer. Both great records for sure, but this seems like an evolutionary leap forward and a shoring up of the band's sound and ambition. A certain contender for 2008's best-of lists and a consistently rewarding listen.

#Music
#CSF

26th Sep 2008 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Bellowhead

Matachin

Navigator

When I was a kid what I knew about traditional folk music was based solely on watching in bewilderment at the people wearing cloth beermat waistcoats who wandered round my home town at the annual folk festival. Nowadays I like a bit of what might be called ‘alternative folk’ - Bonnie Prince Billy, Iron and Wine, etc. Yet, I still don’t know an awful lot about folky folk folk. So, at first it was hard to know what to make of the second Bellowhead album, Matachin (apparently a dance involving swords).

Initially it seemed like the traditions of English folk music were firmly in place with ye olde ballads and whiskey soaked sea shanties abounding. However, the inspiration from jazz, cabaret and also a darker, abstract, circus troupe verve are all evident and you realise that they’re not so easy to label.

They themselves say “above all this is a BIG band” – and with 11 sharp suited Bellowheaders playing 20 instruments the band is certainly big. The mix of the normal folk instrumentation – fiddles, mandolins and guitars – with glockenspiels, trombones, saxophones and frying pans creates a boisterous, quirky and drunken atmosphere. Further, the arrangements are topped off with some fine storytelling. Apart from on angry instrumental jig – ‘Trip to Bucharest’ - the centuries old tales of lost love, cholera and prostitutes who service priests are delivered with a showman’s swagger by lead singer, Jon Boden. And on pieces such as “Roll Her Down The Bay” and “Kafoozalum” the entire band join in and sound like they’re having a right good time of it too.

This probably explains why their live performances have won them high praise from their own scene and beyond. They’ve been the resident band at the Southbank Centre, performed to much applause at the Proms this year and even made a new fan in Chili Peppers frontman Anthony Kiedis after playing on ‘Later... with Jools Holland’.

So, while I thought folk might not be my thing beforehand, I found myself surprisingly enjoying the twists and turns on this album. I like the cut of their jib. Tho not enough to make a waistcoat out of beermats.

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#Locochimpo

25th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Mogwai

The Hawk Is Howling

Wall Of Sound

Scottish post-rockers Mogwai are back, with The Hawk Is Howling - their sixth studio album. Wall Of Sound are the label this time, with Matador releasing the record in the US.

The obtusely named I'm Jim Morrison, I'm Dead starts with a delicate piano, before building slowly as bass, guitar and drums layer on top of each other, steadily heightening the intense atmosphere. There are no vocals or lyrics of course, and as Jim Morrison didn't play guitar it's hard to know what he's saying. In fact, without lyrics the song titles are all we do have to decode this album and work out what Mogwai are trying to say. Thankfully "The Sun Smells Too Loud", "I Love You, I'm Going To Blow Up Your School" and "Thank You Space Expert" spell it out in black and white.

While titles like these might offer little in the way of explanation - seeming more like very personal thoughts and ideas - they do add a certain intensity and suggestion to the music, however misleading they may in fact be. Eschewing some of the more left-field experiments of previous records, the album plays a fairly straight bat - with most songs concentrating on a slow-burning intensity that leads to eventually reward, rather than the more pummeling up/down sound of some of their post-rock contemporaries. Where Explosions In The Sky virtually never fail to deliver an unmitigated rock-out, some of these songs do tend to boil a bit too long - failing to bubble over and ending instead in anti-climax by going for a more constant atmospheric approach, raher than hugely distinctive peaks and troughs. As a result, much of the album can slip by unnoticed - all thorurughly fine, but just slightly dis-engaging.

Mogwai have always seemed to have a bullet-proof mystique to them, from their cult name, through obscure concerts on Scottish islands, to the superior artwork of this and other records - dismissing potential commercial projects to work on the likes of the Zidane movie. The Hawk Is Howling does nothing to damage that reputation, instead just becoming another piece of a diverse cannon of work, much of which doesn't quite encapsulate the band as it seems like it should.

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#CSF

18th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Metros

More Money Less Grief

1965 Records

Peckham teenagers The Metros have been doing the rounds for a while now, slowly building the anticipation for this release through a series of singles and EPs. The band met at school and the sprit of Grange Hill is still present here - with stories of life in south London so vivid, you'll expec a banger on a fork to come flying towards you at at any moment. While the evolution of the band has not been rushed, it seems like it was always inevitable - with a record sleeve designer and a session bassist among the band's parental heritage. Add to that a demo produced by Baxter Dury and James Endeacott's 1965 Records seems like a perfect home for the band.

Live, The Metros are endlessly entertaining - with cheeky lead singer Saul Adamczewski's boundless energy and stage presence carrying the show effortlessly. Stop/start bovver boy beats owe more than a passing nod to the storytelling-meets-ska of Madness or Squeeze - and you know these guys would drive a Cortina if they could. The clean, sharp production and the upbeat playing style suit the songs perfectly - vividly portraying the hard times of living life in the teenage party fast-lane.

While the enthusiasm behind the band and this record is undeniable, things don't really expand much beyond what we've heard already, from the extensive run of singles - and the album offers little new over the 38 minutes. Once you've heard the ska-tinged snarl of Education Part 2, or the stop/start bounce of Last of the Lookers, you've pretty much heard them all. Having said that, if you like those tracks, you'll probably like it all - and what's not to like? Have a few drinks, pogo around and sit tight, as there's bound to much bigger and better things from this promising band in the future.

#Music
#NM

11th Sep 2008 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Somers Town

(dir. Shane Meadows)

Optimum

Young runaway Tomo leaves Nottingham and gets the train to London's King's Cross, before getting mugged and losing all his posessions. He falls in with Polish immigrant Marek, who has moved to England with his father - a builder at the new St. Pancras station who passes the evenings drinking with his mates. The two boys develop a friendship with french waitress Maris - all the time growing closer themselves.

Shane Meadows black and white follow-up to his superb Dead Man's Shoes and This Is England takes a simple premise and fleshes it out with outstanding performances and a lightness of touch. The film realistically portrays the birth of a friendship and the genuines camaradarie between two boys from different circumstances and the pains of growing up - and the acting is superb, particularly from Thomas Turgoose, who displays a baffling assuredness and confidence for a fifteen year-old.

Some controversy surrounds the film's production - as it was revelaed that it was produced by advertising agency Mother, on behalf of it's client, Eurostar. While the sponsors input is not overt in the Casino Royale sense ("Is that a Rolex? No, Omega"), it is present and it's most substantial effect is possibly the restriction of the film entering the kind of difficult territory that Dean Man's Shoes or This is England delved into. Without any real antagonism, the film doesn't move forward very far and settles instead for being a funny and charming portal of a new friendship, rather than explore the notions of immigration, homelssness and exploitation that it merely touches on.

Even though Tomo can't possibly have a passport the boys don't bunk the train, but manage to take a trip to Paris (only two hours away!) in search of their first love. This scene perhaps sums up the film's best aspects, with the earlier black & white photography serving as a counterpoint to this eventual Super 8 nostalgia that looks fondly upon coming of age. At 75 minutes this serves as more of an EP that a full-length, but it provides enough evidence that Meadows has a mature confidence behind the camera that shows yet more promise of great things to come.

#Film
#CSF

8th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

XX Teens

Welcome To Goon Island

Mute

Add one more X to this band and you've got a world of Google strife, but without it you've got a five piece London band who spew out endlessly pleasing, driving art-rock (what the fuck does art-rock even mean?) very much in the vein of bands like The Fall. Formerly known as Xerox Teens, this band have recently signed to Mute for their debut - Welcome To Goon Island. It's pretty much a DIY record which sweeps from genre to genre throughout but always manages to maintain the frantic pace. Front man Rich Cash yelps and screams like a twisted David Byrne but can slow it down to a deep spoken word delivery reminiscent of Damon Albarn. Rolling basslines lay down the cover fire as raging drums and driving guitars leap forward dragging with them all sorts of things that make a musical noise. The result is a impenetrable broth of sound that treads fearlessly on the right side of anarchy and the wrong side of politeness.

An idyllic strumming harp heralds the coming of this debut, then in contrast to its gentle emergence comes the erratic beat and frenzied vocals for opener The Way We Were. This pace and enthusiasm is something you get used to on this record as song after song continues the full throttle drive of this group. B-54 employs the spoken word over 4/4 beats that are quickly layered by the rhythm guitar and crashing cymbals

The ultimate success of this debut is its wide sphere of influence and inability to fall neatly into classification. It squeals with raw punk sensibility but will lace the potion with structured and melodic horns like on Ba (Ba-Ba-Ba). Every composition threatens to come apart at the seams but holds tight to structural elements with driving rhythm and rising melody repeatedly acting as pillars around which the unruly kids play. It has the open-mindedness of a group at the start of their career as guitar is often traded in for saxophone or trumpet. Lead single Darlin' illustrates this perfectly as the brass fanfare announces. Then as the crashing din of every drum in the room storm the stage Cash's muffled and distorted vocals dart fleetingly in and out of audible range. To make things stranger and even more textured the relentless beat is curiously joined by delightfully melodic and thoroughly out of place Caribbean steel drums. With military percussion bringing things to a close Cash confuses us even more with the repeated lyric "the chinese are comin," just as the closing bars are dominated by an electrifying african bongo drum solo.

All these conflicting elements in less capable hands could be a disaster but under the guidance of this band it all works. The only thing that does seem a bit shoe-horned is Brian Haw's monologue that finishes the record. The song itself For Brian Haw is the bands final sonic attack but the lyrics rarely stray further from the title and as Haw's voice fades out with the sound of Parliament Square traffic it does seem like a political statement tacked on to the end of the record. XX Teens may be a part of a slightly over subscribed genre and though they wear their influences proudly if not obviously on their sleeves it doesn't detract from this impressive debut. They fail to live up to the creativeness of many of the bands they reference but their enthusiasm and energy bode well for the future.

#Music
#BC

3rd Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Stereolab

Chemical Chords

4AD

Stereolab return with Chemical Chords - their ninth studio album, which is being billed as something of a comeback. While technically this is the band's first studio album since 2004's Margerine Eclipse, it's not like there's been nothing but silence. 2005 brought the EP collection Oscillons from the Anti-Sun, while 2006 brought 6 new singles (collated on Fab Four Suture) and the 'Greatest Hits' collection Serene Velocity. With the winding down of Too Pure, this album is brought to your senses by 4AD, but Stereolab's own label Duophonic is still calling the shots.

In the seventeen or so years that the band have been going, their once unique style has been much appropriated - by other bands, as well as dozens of Stereolab-esque purveyors of music-for-mobile-phone-adverts. With the odd exception, as time has passed the band themseleves have become less abrasive - less post-rock, more yacht rock - and that trend contunes here.

Stangely, the upbeat Neon Beanbag is not dissimilar to Yo La Tengo's bean bag infused track - Beanbag Chair. They must have got that memo. While there are darker moments here and there - such as the atmospheric title track - it's Laetitia Sadier's upbeat vocals that provide the defining constant here, floating in and out around through the light pop of Valley Hi!, the xylophones of Silver Sands and the piano of Daisy Click Clack. There are touches of Motown here and there and the electronics have a more organic, less organic sound than on some efforts - but to be honest, having pretty much pioneered this style, it's hard to criticise Tim Gane and his merry band of popsters.

The delay may have been (somewhat) significant but the results are the same. Another album of pleasing, if not challenging electronic nicety.

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#CSF

29th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Oxford Collapse

The Hann - Byrd - EP

Comedy Minus One

In anticipation of their recent LP Bits, Brooklyn rockers Oxford Collapse put out this 5 track EP as a quick appetiser. Sub Pop take a back seat on this one, with small label Comedy Minus One running up the 500 copy vinyl-only release. Not to worry if you're not a vinyl junkie however, as thanks to the digital revolution it's also available at your local download store.

The trade mark dual vocals of Micheal Pace and Adam Rizer are in full effect from the very start, as Internet Cafes in Micronesia are amongst the subjects covered in Bikini Atoll, before the vocals slip away and the song moves into a pounding instrumental jam. The call and response of Among Friends (mp3) doesn't quite take off, before bassist Adam Rizer takes a more central vocal role on The Pilgrim.

Things pick up with the almost line-dancing style of Genetic Engineering, peddling an amusingly sarcastic positive message. This more thought-out approach makes for a more engaging song - and once you are past the bizarre hip-hop intro, Bikini As Hole continues the approach, bookending the album with a beefed up re-working of the opening track.

While finding the band in their most familiar form - counterpoint John Hughes-esque stories of guys at parties over frenetic jangling guitars and pounding drum tracks - there's a more adventurous approach to the later music here, building on the success of Remember The Night Parties with a more considered sound. The songs don't quite have the same punch just yet, but for a mid-season EP it's a worthwhile effort. Let's hope things have beefed up for Bits, which I'll be reviewing tomorrow.

#Music
#CSF

20th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Pond

Practice of Joy Before Death

Sub Pop

THEN: Ecstatic reviews from the British Music Press (never trust those guys!) set the pace for the much anticipated Pond, who made an early attempt to move away from the plaid shirts / long hair stereotype and onto the short hair / t-shirts prototype. After their '93 debut, this second album aimed for a darker sound - before major label debut Rock Collection failed to break the band in 1997.

NOW: While Pond were a little late on the Grunge circuit, they were also a little behind the 'alt' continuation that powered through the mid-90's. Without the grandiose ideas of Smashing Pumpkins, or the crunching power of the Foo Fighters, these songs are done few favours - with the muffled production doing little to lift the appealing buried melodies out of the quagmire. Could do with a little more distance between the quiet and loud of their "quite quiet / quite loud" formula.

SUB POP SAYS: "We just wanted danceable, driving drums, and lotsa melodies and hooks, and it all seems to come out murky and thick".

KILLER TRACK: Sundial

NEXT: 1996 - Sebadoh - Harmacy

#Music
#CSF

12th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Earth

Earth 2

Sub Pop

THEN: Earth's first album, Earth 2 passed over me on its initial release but I do remember its cover. The white background with tasteful typography had a quality that stood out among the other alternative bands. Not that alternative is the best word to describe Earth. There was a certain amount of interest I around Earth 2, what with having such a memorable name and also the fact that no one seemed to be able to stomach the repetitive drone.

NOW: Only three songs in length but still a long player, Earth 2 is a challenge and that really is an understatement. The songs run along at a painfully slow pace and time changes are scarce. Because of the lack of variation the Earth sound could fall under the category of background music if it was not so intimidating and intense. Yet I like this album even if I can only stomach listening to one song at a time. Earth have gone on to expand their sound and improve, thankfully into something more substantial.

KILLER TRACK: Definitely one of the first 3.

NEXT: 1994 - Sunny Day Real Estate - Diary

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#R.Hammerstein

12th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

L7

Smell The Magic

Sub Pop

THEN: Sub Pop of 1990 was a very male led and largely Seattle based affair. That L7 were made up of four girls from Los Angeles is a good marker of the uncompromising nature of this band and their debut album Smell the Magic. The quartet who were definitely more Riot Grrrl than Girl Power, earned notoriety on these shores by dropping their trousers live on The Word or going one step further at the Reading Festival by throwing a used tampon into the crowd, along with the challenge "Eat my dead uterus!"

NOW: Sound charming don't they? But such 'fuck-you' antics were very much part of the appeal of the music coming out of Sub Pop at the time. Like a reincarnation of the Punk explosion that inspired many groups in the scene, it wasn't necessarily the music that mattered most - some distorted barchords and single fingered solos would work just fine - as long as it all came with plenty of anger and attitude. Released in a year when the eyes of the alternative world were all fixed on Sub Pop, Smell The Magic can make legitimate claim to being the archetypal 'Grunge' record, with album opener Shove as anthemic as any Touch Me I'm Sick or Teen Spirit. "My neighbours say I jam too loud. SHOVE! America thinks I should be proud. HUH!"

SUB POP SAYS: “L7 are a primal rock machine.”

KILLER TRACKS: Shove. Fast And Frightening

NEXT: 1991 - Mudhoney - Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge

#Music
#chimpovich

11th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Ponytail

Ice Cream Spiritual

We Are Free

Ponytail are are four-piece band from Baltimore featuring two guitarists, a drummer and the individual vocal stylings of singer Molly Siegel (Yep, Harris Pilton scores a review for another band with no bass player. Must be something about 2008, because that's the third band this year that eschews the services of the lower frequencies). So, on the one hand here is a band which doesn't rumble the floor (bad), but on the other hand, they are also a band which still sound great when they throw the rule book out of the window (good).

There's nothing as straightforward as a song here, well not the sort of song you could sing the words along to, nor the sort that is served up in a verse/chorus framework, but nevertheless the sound Ponytail deliver is still very catchy, joyful and full of poppy hooks and melodies. Everything is pretty frantic - drummer Jeremy Hyman serves up solid garage rock rhythms at a furious pace while the twin guitars of Ken Seeno and Dustin Wong riff, battle, noodle, wig out and mash together in an unremitting orgy of late-60's inspired jamming. Meanwhile in the few remaining upper-mid frequency gaps, Molly Siegel vocalises her way through the entire record like a day-glo toy on happy juice. Screeching, yelling, making mouth noises and sometimes flirting with a melody, Siegel manages to swerve the band's sound away from The Allman Brothers (acknowledged in one track title) and into a land of dementedly happy ultra-neon flowers and sunshine, all racing by at a breakneck speed making your head spin from an overdose of colour saturation.

It's noisy, and it's fun, so go check it out. But it is full on from the word go and pretty much relentless. Most of the time the band sound like they've just hit the final minute of an already epic number and are pulling all their freak-out chops for the big final chord - except Ponytail start their songs that way then carry on from there. Wacky, but in a good way.

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#HarrisPilton

8th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Oneida

Preteen Weaponry

Jagjaguwar

Once there was a time - long before the term was appropriated by Hi-NRG progtastic disco monkeys - that Trance was a good thing. Bunches of like minded musicians, possibly experiencing an advanced state of chemical refreshment, would set the tapes rolling with minimal discussion about what would happen. The US had Miles Davis and the Grateful Dead, Europe had Krautrock and in the UK we had, err, Hawkwind. All good tho'. The kind of music that proudly invited the listener to get loaded and go with it.

Preteen Weaponry is a 3-part jam lasting 40 minutes, so if the thought of that doesn't in some way appeal to you then read no further. If, however, you enjoy hearing musicians exploring and improvising on a phat spaced-out groove, then strap in and set the controls for the heart of the sun.

What makes this record work so well is the way it comes together fairly slowly in the first section - the musicians trying to work out their own spaces in the mix, getting hold of the groove - and then all of a sudden they lock together and the swirling jagged mass of noises becomes one big unified sound. Guitars and old-skool synths thru effects become indistinguishable, clouds of phase and echo reverberate behind a solid yet frantic drummer, whilst something (whatever) holds a pulse note or phrase. Listening to it really tranced me out (like, totally) and I mean that as a huge compliment. As someone who's had a lifelong addiction to music I can often find myself over-analysing what I'm hearing - deciding I don't like a guitar sound or the reverb on the drums or some other nit-pickin' shit - but this record doesn't allow anyone to do that. It starts, it goes, it goes some more, it keeps going, and you either go with it or you don't. My advice is :- go with it.

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#HarrisPilton

29th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Port O'Brien

All We Could Do Was Sing

City Slang

Van Pierszalowski, the front man for this Californian band, spends 3 months of the year on a salmon trawler on Kodiak Island, Alaska which goes some way to explain the great seafaring influence that dominates their sound - and like the sonic waves that wash over every moment of this record, Port O'Brien find themselves on distant and far richer shores than were explored on their debut.

2007's The Wind And The Swell was less of a debut and more of a compilation of the best of their self-released efforts, but it was very much a stripped down folk affair comprising of mainly guitar and vocals and tinny lo-fi drumming. It's very much a different story here with All We Could Do Was Sing, which curiously kicks off the same way their previous album did - with the frenzied group sing-along of I Woke Up Today. It's given a major overhaul this year but does slightly mislead the listener as to the general direction of this record. Stuck On A Boat is way more representative with its deep guitars and hollow vocals. It's a simple song vividly placing Pierszalowski on his Dad's trawler, it takes its time with the basic rhythmic structure but its glorious swathes of pastoral strings instantly hail the arrival of a whole new band. Fisherman's Son sees our protagonist leave his coastal roots and up and move to the city. Great waves of drums pick this song up and launch it into a vibrant gallop accompanied again by the string section.

Port O'Brien have developed many strings to their bow and this record is full of ideas that span more tempos than their debut hinted at. Songs like Pigeonhold show the band baring its teeth with crashing cymbals and truncated guitar solos that squeal and wine, until the strained vocals bring the whole thing to a calamitous close. This electric injection raises this band from the alt-folk wilderness that they threatened to reside in. The penultimate Close The Lid sees them perfect this element of their sound with a textbook indie jangle that lets rip into a joyous ramshackle of drums and raw vocals. Then as a total antithesis comes the frail closing sound of Valdez. More in line with the earlier songs this finishes the album with melancholic fragility and is the sonic opposite of how the record began. These polar bookends that contain this record illustrate perfectly the rich tapestry that Port O'Brien has woven. They may not be reinventing anything here, but as an example of a rock group that strives to evolve their sound, Port O'Brien's journey from lo-fi folk to indie rock confidence has resulted in a full bodied and endlessly listenable album.

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28th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Lil Wayne

Tha Carter III

Cash Money

Hailed as the "most anticipated release of 2007", Lil Wayne's first full album since Tha Carter II in 2005 saw such an unprecedented leak rate that it got pushed back for a 2008 release and has since sold more than a million copies in it's first week. All this acclaim and expectation could spell the demise of a hip hop act such as Wayne but Tha Carter III is a piece of work that more than lives up to its hype and sees this truly unique MC occupying even weirder and bolder territory than ever.

On one of the stand out tracks, Dr. Carter, Wayne assumes the role of doctor and the patient is hip hop. Various symptoms present themselves at the start like lack of confidence, bad concepts, weak flow and no style and by the end he claims to have "saved hip hop." This arrogance is justified as he takes us step by step through just why he is more than qualified to be the self proclaimed saviour. And hip hop has never sounded healthier than on Carter III.

With his grizzly delivery and slow, erratic flow Lil Wayne fills every album with an overflowing quantity of ideas. He has experimented so much with his voice and can swing from a deep menacing growl (Phone Home) to weazle-like ragga-monotone rapid fire (A Milli). Each track demonstrates his lyrical prowess as he changes subject faster than a cornered politician. The production is tight with multi layered beats and deep soulful melodies. There is some great samples, most notably the David Axelrod melody on Dr. Carter and Nina Simone on the overlong Don't Get It. Wayne seems so at ease with the music, as he takes his time delivering vivid metaphors it's as if the beats have to keep up with him. Let The Beat Build demonstrates hip hop's unique freedom to allow songs that are about nothing but hip hop itself. The song is centered around Wayne's grasp of beat timing and that's about it, but it works tremendously. Mid-way through the song everything goes quiet until Wayne whispers, "As I hit the kill switch / Now that's how you let the beat build bitch." Songs like Shoot Me Down show the MC soul-searching with dark, brooding atmospherics that build to his end statement "watch me soar, where the fuck is my guitar?" and a screeching chord brings the whole thing to a close. It's followed by it's antithesis, Lollipop. The first official single, this is a made-for-radio song that is centered round a shameless confectionary-based sexual innuendo. It's good but it's nothing 50 Cent didn't already tell us in Candy Shop.

Lollipop, while a solid tune, does contain elements of where this album, for me, strays from its focus and that'll be in its R n B tendencies. I rarely venture into mainstream hip hop such as this, for this very reason. Hip hop is the biggest selling genre in the US and can't do too bad over here either, but I can't help feeling that this statistic comes about largely due to the genre boundaries being heavily blurred and when hip hop strays into RnB territory the market expands. R Kelly isn't hip hop and Kanye West isn't RnB. Songs like Got Money and Comfortable seem to dilute this MC's dazzling writing skills not to mention Mrs Officer, a song who's principle theme is a female cop sexual fantasy.

So that's the bitching out the way and now down to business. This guy can turn a phrase better than most and that's the sole reason to listen to this album. Unlike many of his contemporaries Wayne doesn't lace every rhyme with the same concepts and themes and so in that respect he is hard to pin down. He isn't a thug rapper, a smut rapper or an indie-poet, he's all that and more. He covers many topics with impressive eloquence. Here's a few.

Excretion: You're like a bitch with no ass, you aint got shit. (A Milli)

Grammar: "I don't owe you like two vowels." (A Milli)

Will Smith movies: "I got so many bitches like I was Mike Lowry."(A Milli)

Ailments: "I Got Swagger tighter than a yeast infection" (Dr Carter)

Cooking: "Don't I treat you like soufflé?" ( Comfortable)

Confectionary: "So I let her lick the (w)rapper" - (Lollipop)

French: "I'm all about oui like Paris / Hilton presidential suite already." (La La)

Finance: "You better pay me cos you don't want my problems / I'll be wiling like Capital One, what is in your wallet" (You Aint Got Nuthin.)

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24th 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

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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#CSF

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

Windsor For The Derby

How We Lost

Secretly Canadian

Certainty is luxury these days, I mean to really know something for sure be it good or bad. I know England aren't going to go out of Euro 2008 to Portugal, I know I'll never pay money to see a Tarantino movie again. Musically, I know I'd rather stick pins up under my finger nails than go to a Kaiser Chiefs concert and that Michael Jackson's Billie Jean is one of the greatest 3 minutes life is likely to provide. So all these things are banked, I know where I stand, but the same can't be said for my feelings for Windsor For The Derby. In my vast gamete of appreciation that holds Billie Jean at one end and Kaiser Chiefs at the piss stinking other, Windsor For The Derby would probably fit in the better half - occasionally creeping towards the top but then slipping back down to the wasteland of the middle ground. When they creep slowly in the direction of the the hallowed Billie Jean pinnacle it would be during the eight minutes plus of the blissful The Melody Of A Fallen Tree which opened their 2004 album We Fight Till Death. This song is so pleasing, so complete and so sublime it tears the rest of the record down around it. The record is by no means bad, in fact there are some great moments but none that come close to its opener, and the same could be said for their follow up, How We Lost.

The success of The Melody Of A Fallen Tree throws my certainty out the window with this band. My love for it casts a searching eye around the songs that lie at its feet and though their are many a fine moment on How We Lost I am agin left wanting and confused. None of them come anywhere near the depths of the Keiser Chiefs but in a way I wish they would, at least then I'd know where I stand.

This band's talent lies in 2 thongs, their courage to go on past 4 minutes, although only 2 of them hit the 5 minute mark here, and their Krautrock/Joy Division/ New Order tendencies. When all of these things happen in the same song their position on the scale shifts in their favor. The album starts off well with the hollow sounding Let Go kicking things off and the gritty guitars of Maladies continuing the momentum. Fallen Off The Earth sees the band in familiar territory with steady rhythm building slowly but surely to a subtly layered finale. But it's Hold On that picks this album up by the scruff of it's neck and carries it to greener pastures. Running down the center of the record Hold On's patience and persistence reminds me of why I think I sort of like this band. It maintains the same steady pace as its predecessors but where lesser songs would reach for the fade button this one forges on, long outlasting the gentle vocals with a majestic guitar solo. It aint Melody but hey, it's getting there.

The trouble is it's surrounded by the usual fillers that ultimately condemn this album to yet another not quite memorable effort that does little to convince me of my opinion of this band. There's way too many ambient time wasters that only serve to dry up the once rich pastures of the mentioned high points, leaving a slightly moist wasteland of mediocrity.

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26th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Tell No One

(dir, Guillaume Canet)

Based on Harlan Coben's novel, Tell No One (or Ne le dis à personne as they say in France) follows the story Alex Beck, whose wife is murdered. Eight years later he finds himself implicated in another murder, when suddenly he receives an email - apparently from his dead wife.

Harlan Coben is is known for his twisting story-lines and surprisingly the novel is seamlessly transposed from the US to Paris - making for a quintessentially French film. The French seem to be hitting all the right notes with this kind of plausible thriller recently - from Caché to 36 Quai des Orfèvres. It's a solid piece of work which is genuinely thrilling and mysterious, while eschewing much of the Hollywood attention-grabbing antics that Brit films go for - focusing instead on a good story, good script and good acting. That's not to say it doesn't have any style, as it's very well directed with a some thoughtful camera work in all the appropriate places, as well as some superbly edited set pieces. Dustin Hoffman-alike François Cluzet is convincing in the thoroughly confused lead role and a nicely worked sub-plot ties some suburban Parisian gang-bangers to great effect.

At the end of the day there's maybe a twist too far, but in an age of unwarranted pyrotechnics and fanfare this is an old-fashioned thriller that comes thoroughly recommended. 

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17th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Robert Pollard

Robert Pollard Is Off To Business

Guided By Voices Inc.

After the many, many, many quick-turnaround releases since the demise of GBV, it's often been Robert Pollard's lack of focus that has drawn critism. Albums seemingly get released when any 12 new songs are complete - and the results have been inconsistent to say the least.

With Robert Pollard Is Off To Business however, the charismatic front man's intention to knuckle down and produce a focused 'rock' record is clear from the start. Opener The Original Heart immediatly recalls the sound of 70's Peter Gabriel - a sound Pollard is a sure fan of, after GBV's rousing cover of Solsbury Hill on their Electrifying Conclusion tour. The classic rock continues straight into The Blondes and, while the song is far from being a carbon copy, it's the guitar intro from Led Zeppelin's Tangerine providing the unlikely reference point. While I would have never doubted Pollard as a Led Zeppelin fan (who isn't?) I could probably not have picked a band as seemingly far removed from Pollard's brand of low-fi bombastics.

Off To Business is definitely one of the most direct records amongst the Pollard cannon in quite some time and on the whole it's a rewarding listen. Multi-instrumentalist Todd Tobias provides the backing as usual - and while the intention is all good it can sound a little thin in places, almost as if a one-man-band is providing the sound, rather than a fully fleshed out band and lavish production. But seriously, what were you expecting?

Killer track No One But I is easily up there with GBV's best, with it's understated verses providing a calm before the ever ascending chorus. It's quickly followed by the equally engaging Weatherman and Skin Godess, and the condensed rock of To The Path!, which crams the contents of a Yes epic into a mere 3 minutes 25.

At 10 songs and 33 minutes it's over before it has begun and for once I'm left wanting more, not less. After amicably departing from Merge Records after a four year stint, this is the first (of presumably many) records to be released directly by Pollard, through his own label - Guided By Voices Inc. Hopefully it marks the start of a succesful new chapter.

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11th Jun 2008 - 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

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.

#Film
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29th May 2008 - 6 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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#BC

26th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Bonnie 'Prince' Billy

Lie Down In The Light

Domino

We may be heading for a recession but our usual touchstones of gloom and melancholy seem hellbent on taking us in the opposite direction. David Berman's Silver Jews are due to release an unusually positive new record and here Will Oldham follows up 2006's The Letting Go with an album bathed in weary resolution and renewed warmth. Both these artists have produced some of their finest work while struggling through their darkness and likewise both seem to project their new work from a well fought point of resolved insight. But the ultimate success of these two records come from a genuine wisdom that was born out of experience and a deep searching for a truth behind this human experience. They haven't just decided to make an 'upbeat record' but have allowed this new dawn in their understanding to shine on every word they utter and though these words will always be tinged with sadness they display an outlook glistening with light.

Oldham gently counts in the record with the retrospective Easy Does It. The whole feel of this album is encapsulated in this first song as it lovingly rakes over past beliefs and viewpoints to compare them to a newly acquired calmness and strength. "There are other ways, I used to think, to find my way around, the wood and the caves and the bad woman's ways that were always to be found." The whole song shimmers with this new "One Way" that Oldham refers to as he looks around him and sees the light shine off everyday wonders like the moon, friends and family and "good, earthly music singing into my head."

This album explores every range of Olham's vocals from the joyous country lilt of Easy Does It to the intimate whisperings of What's Missing Is. Musically it's just as rich from the clipped fiddle on Glory Goes to For Every Field There's A Mole's wonderful clarinet. Oldham's delicate guitar playing dances eagerly throughout the record but is also joined by colourful touches of lap steel. Dawn McCarthy's sweet harmonies shadowed Oldham's every word in The Letting Go and the duet role falls to Ashley Webber here with some beautiful results. You Want That Picture sees them assume the part of two accusing lovers while on Other's Gain they rise in harmony to majestic grandeur. The sense of loneliness is passing from every record Oldham makes, not only due to the company he keeps on the songs but in his words that fall so precisely from his mouth. On Other's Gain he tells of the importance to "Keep your loved ones near, and let them know just where you be," while Easy Does It describes "the wood and the smell and the word of farewell that I always had to sound."

This new embrace of the world and the people around him is at the very heart of this records warmth. Instead of the forked-tongue critic lurking in the judgmental shadow of the world Lie Down In The Light displays a new found knowledge of the artists place in this life and on songs like So Everyone he aims to declare it to all in earshot. But while this might be a celebration, Katrina And The Waves it most certainly is not. Lie Down In The Light might be the antithesis both in title and tone to one of Oldham's finest albums, 1999's I See A Darkness, but it's joyousness is delivered with patience and humility like one who has seen the light but is in no hurry to explore, opting rather, to dwell there knowingly in its warmth. Like Berman, Oldham's ability to describe joy as well as pain is giving new strength to his work and is transforming him into a more well rounded song writer and as this joy has come from pain its profundity is more striking and long lasting.

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#BC

19th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Roots

Rising Down

Def Jam

"Better dead bolt the door, it aint safe no more" raps Black Thought on this, the tenth LP from the Phily heavyweights, and he's clearly referring to the new world we now find our selves inhabiting but his words could easily be seen as a warning cry to all other crews because Rising Down will demolish the competition. It's a foreboding record that tells of a growing unrest in America but does it with intelligent vision that, instead of sounding preaching, gathers us all behind it and commences its march on the system. The Roots have tirelessly crafted intelligent hip hop but this record manages to steer clear of the overly serious work that crops up in this genre. Rising Down is serious as fuck but it seems necessary, sincere and dangerously capable of making a difference. In mainstream hip hop there seems to be a limited number of routes out of the mothership. There's the dick-swinging/thugged out route favored by the likes of Fiddy, the "I shop so much I can speak Italian" bling rhymes of Kanye or the well trodden and yet important route of the political, championed by Chuck and the boys. The Roots have never really made their choice, choosing to keep their options open, so Rising Down sees them take a step nearer their choice. With some expertly employed guest vocals from the likes of Mos Def, P.O.R.N., Talib Kweli and Common each song plays out like a cross section of deep civil unrest. But aside from the guests this and every Roots album is about Black Thought. His relentless delivery adds the weight to this sound and as he flows over ?uestlove's flawless percussion you really want to listen.

Mos Def is given the mighty honor to open this record and he does so with style over a deep drum beat that simmers to a guitar sample that Shadow just wishes he made. Black Thought backs him up with his signature intensity "Everything's for sale, even souls, someone get God on the phone," sounds the chorus before Styles P flows off the back of Black Thoughts vocals perfectly. As an opener this song establishes the tone quickly. The guest vocals provide a varied platform for its darkly twilight drizzle and it has to be a strong contender for the best song this group has made. Get Busy storms in with raw drum beats and Black Thought's angry growls stabbing from the depths while 75 Bars (Black's Reconstruction) sees his lightning tongue rattle off lyrics like a gatling gun. Besides the intro these first three full songs come as a set and lead you deep into the heart of the record before you have time to worry if it's any good or not. They're the united front and they're impenetrably solid.

The two elements that make this record shine is its use of guest rappers and The Roots penchant for live instrumentation. Hip hop's been around for a while and you'd think by now that any keen follower would have heard his fair share of dope beats but with every release - and particularly this one - The Roots manage to craft such well rounded head-nodding perfection. I Will Not Apologize unites both these strengths and sees P.O.R.N. and Dice Raw rhyme over the sickest, most sleezy beat that bumps lightly around their perfectly crafted flows. It's like a mission statement read out on a relentless protest march with the guest's awkward style of flow complementing brilliantly that of Black Thought's. Criminal and Singing Man take a smoother approach but the effect is the same, accompanied by a more melodic structure they turn down the heat but continue to pile on layer after layer of simmering anger most frighteningly seen on Singing Man where Truck North assumes the role of a suicide bomber.

With the help of Wale and Chrisette Michele the penultimate track Rising Up seems to be the after party for those who stayed behind after the protest. It's a clever antidote to opener Rising Down and features such rhyme nuggets as Wale's "good rappers aint eatin', they Olsen twinnin'." Had it finished the album Rising Up would leave the listener with a profound sense of optimism for the future and the possibility of change. As it happens the upbeat Birthday Girl closes things and serves as the only misplaced step on this otherwise flawless record. The political route has often been on their map but The Roots have never strived to be Public Enemy often leaning heavily on a more soul-infused sound that provides their records with a rich variety of intensity and light relief. Rising Down opts for this variety a lot less than its predecessors and so the inclusion of the jaunty sing-along closer really dilutes their message here, thinning out the album. But like a fine wine this album, though tapering out at the edges, provides serious body throughout.

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#HHG

12th May 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Cans Festival

Leake Street, London

This cleverly named exhibition shows how far street art has come in the last ten years. Anyone who's lived in or around London for any length of time will be so used to seeing Banksy's creations come and go around town and with the exhibitions in America making front page headlines and his work being sold to countless celebrities, so it was no surprise that when I turned up to this Bank Holiday festival of stencil art curated by and including the 'man' himself the queue was round the block.

In case you don't know, this all takes place on Leake street, a tunnel under the old Eurostar at Waterloo station and it contains stencil paintings and sculptures by various street artists including Banksy. Anyone can contribute to this show throughout the weekend but it is strictly limited to stencil art only. There's a reception made out of an old caravan that artists have to register at where they will then be guided to the remaining free space on which to leave their mark. The result is a visual feast and a fantastically concentrated platform for this art. It seemed strange to be queuing for a highly organised exhibition of anarchic art, especially under a towering billboard that reads 'Gentrify This' but once you've made it through you'll find it was worth the wait.

You're not allowed to paint over anyone else's work so everything is tastefully placed but the quality is impressive. Dotted around burnt out cars, painted sofas and ice cream vans are thousands of images that all seem to behave perfectly with each other. The whole tunnel is totally covered with work and doused in dripping paint and if you can get a glimpse through the wall of flashing cameras you'll be glad you came. Every manner of culture has been thoroughly trashed from Michaelangelo's David, The Queen, Andy Warhol, our beloved hoodies and our (apparently) equally beloved Boris.

It's all very exciting and very hard to find a bad word to say about such an event being staged for free at a location as tourist-friendly as this. Banksy never seems to run out of good ideas these days and even though it's way more interesting to come across one of his visual one-liners on some dingy back ally in Hackney, to see some of these works on the scale that they are shown here is great. To be honest, I'm a bit bored of this stuff. It's so commonplace now and never seems to rise above its obvious, anti-establisment message but as an event in the capital I take my hood off to them. If this was Ken's swan song then thanks for the memories dude.

#HHG

9th 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

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.

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#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

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.

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#BC

22nd Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

White Williams

Smoke

Double Six

Cleveland born Joe WIlliams, aka White Williams does everything he possibly can to sabotage this record, but ultimately fails. His debut record is 'unapologetic pop' which strikes me as baffling. Having toured with the likes of Girl Talk and Dan Deacon, he feels compelled to lace these sunny pop songs with touches of the avant garde. His guitar will be slightly out of key or he'll hit a bum note on the keyboard every now and again which in my mind is a form of apology to being pop music. With influences ranging from the 80's electro of The Human League (Headlines) and the hazy rock n' roll of T-Rex (In The Club) this is a collection of fairly simple and straight forward songs that would make for an enjoyable listen if the creator wasn't so preoccupied with taking his sound to other directions. So in trying to turn a pop album into a challenging slice of Art Pop he ends up doing neither.

Williams is clearly caught between some fairly obvious polar opposites. Songs like Going Down try their hardest to derail the melody with out-of-tune quirkiness but fail to rival the adventures of the afore mentioned Dan Deacon and the unlistenable noise of Lice In The Rainbow, a three and a half minute headache of directionless squeaks and twitters, aims at the abstract compositions of Black Dice - whom Williams also opened for with his previous band, but just serves to irritate the listener beyond belief. The title track, with its slow, plodding electronica and muffled vocals is so devoid of any substance it crumbles at the slightest glance, like a Tarantino plot line.

I hate to be so negative as this album does show signs of potential. Danger is the best song here, as it emerges from a cloud of tuneless mess it slips smoothly into a blissed out melody consisting of one word, "Danger." But it's a sad state of affairs when the strongest song features one word repeated over and over. Williams' desire to fit into that dubious genre 'Art Pop' is ultimately what kills this record. He has a natural ability to create effortless melody and catchy hooks but his half-hearted avant-garde dressing removes this from any genre at all and thins the whole thing down to dishwater. I realise this review sounds a bit like a school report and for that I apologise, seeing as the age old phrase we all experienced, "could try harder," doesn't really apply here as Williams' ultimate failing is that he's just trying way too hard.

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#BC

21st Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Why?

Alopecia

Anticon

Returning from the recent staff snowboard trip I stopped off at San Francisco's Amoeba Records and picked up my copy of Why?'s Alopecia. It seemed a fitting place to purchase this Bay Area artist and so with that and a few other missing pieces to the Anticon puzzle I embarked on the 10 hour return journey to London. Maybe it was the severe lack of sleep, or the numerous injuries that plagued my aged body - but on returning home I was all set to hit the Chimp office with a rather disappointing review of this record. After the few disjointed play-throughs on the plane, this follow up to 2005's delightful Elephant Eyelash lacked it's predecessors energy and edge. It seemed to be a pale and overproduced shadow of the work achieved by Yoni Wolf in the past.

So having started this relationship on the sunny Californian shores it took a prolonged 2 hour traffic jam on a rainy Thursday night on the A3 for the love affair to begin. Anticipating a half-hour journey, this was the only CD on my person and after about 4 back-to-back plays this record stared me square in the face with astonishing honesty and made me ashamed of the thoughts I had formed in my pitiful mind. Yoni Wolf's transformation from lo-fi, underground hip-hop to melodic indie-pop seemed to be near completion on the recent Hollows EP and I guess my initial disappointment was wrapped up in that fact. I have always been in favor of this transformation as throughout Wolf's work with either cLOUDDEAD or Reaching Quiet his gift for a melody was always there but under used and during the first half of Alopecia it is heavily exploited.

Alopecia is made up of two halves and most of the deal makers occur in the latter part of the record. From the outset it's obvious that the production has never been slicker. Wolf has always been the figurehead of a lo-fi, homemade sound but things have changed. The Vowels Pt. 2 kicks off proceedings with short, plodding steps and it's clear this hike in production quality is being put to good use. This shiny, crystal clear melody loosely glosses over the dark themes that run through this record. Sex and death is pretty much it, making Alopecia far more twisted than its predecessor. Lines like "faking suicide for applause in the food court of malls" are the norm here not to mention, "sucking dick for drink tickets and the free bar of my cousins Bar Mitzvah." Death usually relates to Yoni's own demise and is always delivered in rosy, tongue-in-cheek candy wrappers. Fatalist Palmistry begins "I sleep on my back cos it's good for the spine and coffin rehearsal.

Wolf's vocal range is what makes his work so listenable. He can go from the low, shuffling rap of Good Friday to the nasal melody of These New Presidents and his writing is so surreal, bustling with imagery and so meticulously pronounced that your ear is forced to attempt to decipher each verse but rarely succeeds . On the unnerving Simeon's Dilemma Wolf assumes the role of a stalker and describes his obsession with a certain female by way of high pitched singing tones which makes the content even more cringeworhty.

As heard on the recent EP, The Hollows carries the weight here with a rarely heard increase in volume by means of grinding guitars and crescendo vocals. The Fall Of Mr. Fifths marks the turning point of the record. It's way more in line with Wolf's earlier Anticon work with rapid delivered spoken verse and surrounded by textural atmosphere. A Sky For Shoeing Horses Under continues the spoken verse with rain-drop-like keyboards trickling down around it, it's a simple and all too short piece of work but emerges as one of the finest moments on the record. The other comes in the form of By Torpedo Or Crohn's. This was the other stand out track on the EP with a remix by Dntel, but this version is slower and allows much needed room to truly appreciate Wolf's art.

It's an art that is second to none and the distance this band have come is astonishing. Though darker in tone Alopecia is a definite progression from the airy Elephant Eyelash. Its another step to the honing of their direction and it's quite rare to see a band with direction these days. Wolf crams so many ideas into every breath of this record that it will take a lifetime to uncover it all. The shame I feel at my early judgement now serves as a reminder of the depth and complexity of this album, to not like it is to not get it i'm afraid.

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#HHG

11th Apr 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet