Chimpomatic

Victor Bermon

Arriving At Night

Hefty

After a full on evening of five-a-side football on a ruddy cold March night, this album managed to find itself warming my cockles, and more to the point relaxing me enough to wind down within about four tracks. It opens with the pleasant Farewell Lunch For Laura which has a slightly smoky jazz orientation with minute snippets of a soft Coltrane sounding sax sample. Victor Bermon's Arriving At Night is aptly titled, as it's one of those ambient albums that many folk will encounter for the first time after a slammin' night, having gone back to someone's house in order to relax some. It's essentially a collection of bright melodic soundscapes incorporating some loosely plucky acoustic guitar and other string instruments, dreamy Rhodesy type Vibraphone sounds and drifting jazzy rhythms. There's actually something a bit TV or film soundtrack sounding about this whole album, and in fact the track Famous Discussion kind of reminded me slightly of the delightful theme music to BBC2's Arena programme.

Photographs Are Not Memories is about as rocking as it gets which is track 3, having thought it was track 2 until I double checked so that may give you the idea of how this album blends together somewhat. In fact if anything it does tend to sound a tad samey but then personally I find most albums in this ambient vein tend to.

This is Victor Bermon's debut album for Hefty Records. Don't rely on it to get you up and out of bed in the morning but it's warm and optimistic. You could certainly do worse than finding this as the soundtrack to your nocturnal arrival at a foreign destination

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25th Mar 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Amon Tobin

Foley Room

A foley room is a place where sound effects are recorded for films. It's totally soundproof, clinical, methodical and has an eerie sense of lifelessness - except for the strange sounds that are produced there. This goes some way to describe the latest album by Ninja Tune's maestro of sound manipulation Amon Tobin. Tobin's previous work was entirely constructed from found sounds, but his sources were usually vinyl. Foley Room sees Tobin turn a corner in his compositional process and the entire album is created from recorded sounds both in the foley room using manipulated instruments and also from street life, zoo life and just about anything you can think of that makes a noise.

Of course, this has all been done before - but Tobin's unique methods and musical understanding make this a truly engaging listening experience. This record crawls, oozes, slithers, crashes, scrapes and sometimes pummels it's way through your head in much the same way that every Tobin record does, but this seems to be a lot more focused. It's a predominantly beat driven record, but the sources of these beats are so expertly masked that your ear soon stops trying to identify recognisable sounds and just allows itself to be taken over by the other-worldly quality of the sound. And this other world is no jolly romp in fields of poppies. Tobin's soundscapes are always ominous and this is no exception. The beats often seem to be created by an army of insects and the orchestral sounds that underlie all this invoke visions of impending doom. Though named after a room devoid of atmosphere, this album is all about atmosphere. It has the feeling of a soundtrack and is incredibly visual.

And talking of visuals, the LP comes with a 20 minute documentary about the making of the record and really helps to explain the process. We see Amon and his team take to the streets with highly sensitive recording equipment and dig out the tools with which this record is constructed. He visits motorbike garages, CD production factories and even a safari park where he records all manner of wildlife. Classical strings and drums are used in the foley room, but are manipulated and reconstructed through the sampling process. Peanuts are scattered on bass drums and drum kits are forged out of metal bowls of various fullness bobbing around in water pools. The interesting thing is seeing all this and Tobin crouched, headphone clad, next to the tracks as a train roars past and then listening to the record and seeing how these recordings have been used to create the most remarkable textures and how some really beautiful music has been born out of this apparent chaos.

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6th Mar 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Explosions In The Sky

All Of A Sudden I Miss Everyone

Texan band Explosions in the Sky are apparently some kind of phenomenon. The word of mouth marketing surrounding the band has probably already crossed your path - but if not here are a few facts:

Their songs regularly run on past 7 minutes.
They have no vocalist.
Their 4th album finds the band still on a small indie label (Bella Union)
They sold of London's Koko with the only publicity being a mention on their website

The band use slow building drums and a huge range of guitar sounds construct complex musical landscapes, which grow and evolve before unleashing in a torrent of heavy pounding drums and dueling guitar solos - and on this album the piano is often a key player, particularly on What Do You Go Home To?, which could easily have been the soundtrack to a Michael Mann shoot-out.

While bands like Mogwai have often claimed this style as their own, for me they are frequently distracted by bleeps and twitches, with songs often never quite developing like they threaten too. That is never the case here - with multiple moments of unrestricted release making this one of the most passionate and engaging instrumental albums I have heard in quite some time. It would be hard to singe out specific tracks, and there is certainly very little on here that could work as a single. This is a very much an album which is to be listened to as a complete piece of work. Often structured like a classical symphony, there are multiple moments of repeat, refrain and reprise, making this very rewarding listening which has a comforting warmth and familiarity to it.

Apparently they rock live, and it's not hard to believe - undoubtedly whipping up a lighting storm of volume and feedback of epic proportions, transforming their music into a living, breathing monster. For me however, this the kind of music I like to listen too to put me to sleep. Not because it is boring. Not because it is quiet - which it frequently isn't. Because it is so flowing, passionate, emotional and moving that it is thoroughly engaging, and listening to it focuses my thoughts, allows me to relax and ultimately leaves me happy and exhausted. Brilliant.

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4th Mar 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Busdriver

RoadKillOvercoat

Epitaph

The problem with being the hip hop reviewer for a white, middle class indie rock website is that you don't tend to get much work. Sure, I get paid the same as the other chimps, but you can often find me in the canteen here at Chimp Towers sippin' on a 40' with my feet up - waiting for a beep on my pager from CSF to tell me he's got something for me. Long days amble by and the odd thugged-out dick rap record comes and goes but in the words of Ice T " I don't play that shit." I took this job for the cause. Hip Hop has the potential to be the most exciting and creatively diverse genres of them all - it doesn't have the boundaries that others suffer from, it goes where it pleases or at least it should.

So one lazy afternoon after finishing my fourth brewski, I was thinking of popping out for some more cigar papers to escape the accusing glares of the dinner ladies (I had just been crunking furiously while shouting " Errr' body in the club gettin' tipsy,")  when my pager goes buck-wild. "Busdriver, WTF?" was all it said. At first I thought it was my editor wanting me to drive the Chimpmobile on another day trip - but then remembered the new album RoadKillOvercoat by the LA tongue twisting lyricist. Finally a real job. Busdriver's previous albums for Big Dada were like no other. He's the gatling gun of the hip hop world, delivering intricately constructed raps with rapid-fire dexterity. This was gonna be good - something proper to get my teeth into, but damn, I was hella' drunk.

From the outset the signs were all there that this was going to be a treat. Casting Agents And Cowgirls sees Busdriver fit his rhymes expertly round a a tight beat which prepares us well for the machine gun onslaught of Less Yes's, More No's. Rhyming "Soccer Moms" with " Carpet Bombs," this track is about lyrical muscle flexing, as is the next installment where we're told, "Recreational paranoia is the sport of now so kill your employer." You can almost imagine the speed of the little ball bouncing over these words at the bottom of a Karaoke screen.

And so it continues, but once you reach mid point you are thrilled but starting to map out the rest of the record. This is where this album becomes a great hip hop record. With Sun Shower, Busdriver plays his hip hop ace card - he reaches into his inside pocket and pulls out a fully credible license to do what the fuck he wants. All hip hop cats have this license, but few know it. After dazzling us with lyrical acrobatics the dude starts singing. Yes singing. His floaty vocals drift effortlessly over a minimal, deep techno beat and if you thought this was just an interlude, the next track sees Busdriver duet with Coco Rosie's Bianca Cassidy. My editors pager words echoed in my head "Busdriver, What The Fuck?" indeed. The Troglodyte Wins restores the hip hop factory settings but they sound fresher now. The beats are gloriously tight, the rhymes even more thrilling and they see us through to the end where we get yet more of that singing stuff, and there's even an acoustic guitar on blissful closer Dream Catcher's Mitt.

This kind of thing makes my days in the canteen gettin' tipsy worthwhile. It's clever, but not anally so and Busdriver has cultivated a refreshing blend of fiercely intelligent poetry with the playful humour of his earlier work. Since the demise of Blackalicious the cause needs rhymes of this agility - and Busdriver carries the torch to new heights, skillfully avoiding the pitfall of cliche with a style such as his. RoadKillOvercoat is an album that delights the same way anything by Buck 65 or Dose One would and it does what hip hop set out to do. What ever the fuck it wants.

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1st Mar 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Pole

Steingarten

Scape

Before I got a girlfriend who can't go to sleep until she's read Grazia cover to cover I would like nothing more than to retire to my place of rest with some good head phones. Certain albums come alive when they surround you, when all your other senses are silenced. So with the lights out and the headphones blocking out all sound an album like Mileece's Formations or Murcof's Martes would take on an incredibly powerful form. Every change in the subtle arrangement would be breathtaking when it had your full concentration. We will often take time out to read a book or watch a film but rarely show music the same respect, it's what we have on while doing something else. But some works don't play well with the others.

Though not quite as breathtaking as the previously mentioned works Pole's latest offering Steingarten may well be one of those albums. When played in the background it appears thin and repetitive, but when given the solitary treatment it is a different story. The last I heard of the Berlin based producer Stefan Betke was in 2003 - with the release of his self titled, fourth full length. This had a change up to the normal form as he enlisted the help of Fat Jon on some of the tracks. The result was adventurous yet not entirely successful. Poles music was much more stripped down maybe to accommodate the vocals but the subtle textures in his compositions were lost.

With Steingarten we still get the same reduced techno, but the compositions have a strange warmth about them. Using sampled analogue fuzz and a myriad of bleeps and clicks the attention to detail is impeccable. It's this that makes this record so special. It directs your attention to the minutia of life. If you've ever had a leaky roof you'll recognise Sylvenstein, where a delicate beat is so finely constructed out of familiar sampled sounds that it sounds like water dripping into various metal pans of varying degrees of fullness. With Schoner Land you start to notice the soft soothing repetition of the end of a record as it skips over and over. This is music that has been so meticulously constructed to appear minimal. Intricate layers of indecipherable sound are beautifully punctured by crystal clear drops of  noise. The beats are inviting in their gentleness and the melodies are used as harmonic dashes of colour but are always kept fragmentary.

The whole album ends with the stand out piece Pferd. It features the only recognisable melody on the record and loops what sounds like flute and harmonica over the same delicate tapestry of beats. It's fragility finishes the album off perfectly and you hardly dare to breath once the silence sets in. This is Poles best work to date and should be appreciated in the right context. If you give it your time it will reward you no end.

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19th Feb 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Ghost

In Stormy Nights

Ghost first came to my attention as the backing band for ex-Galaxie 500 maestros Damon & Naomi, on their timeless album "With Ghost". To this day it's an a permanent favourite, with the soft folk sounds creating a gentle, complex base for the soaring, beautiful vocals.

In Stormy Nights sees the band release their ninth album through Drag City, and Masaki Batoh leads his rotating band of followers though a varied, eclectic range of songs and styles, drawing from a diverse range of musical styles.

The opening sounds of Motherly Bluster were exactly what I was expecting, with Batoh's thick Japanese accent presiding over a textured layer of sounds and acoustic guitar. However, second track Hemicyclic Anthelion is a 28 minute marathon of experimentation that unfortunately drifts along without much focus or direction. Akin to hanging around in a late night Tokyo tube station, I rarely find myself in a situation or mood to listen to it. As a result it disrupts the flow of the album, which without it only clocks in at 5 songs / 30 minutes.

Things bang back into action with the military stomp of Water Door Yellow Gate, sounding like a Japanese Nick Cave poisoned poem. Gareki No Toshi segues on from this, with distorted shouts and sound effects sounding like a Fugazi rehearsal session (the opening of Birthday Pony is actually the track I'm thinking of - for you Fugazi heads).

Most comparable to This Mortal Coil, Ghost has much of the same eclectic feel, with strange successes (such as the rambling bagpipes on Caledonia) and unfortunate failings. Moody soundscapes and soundtracks are often misplaced, and seem at odds with each other - rather than sounding like a cohesive body of work by one artist. While the final track Grisaille brings hints of the captivating acid-folk charm that I heard on Damon & Naomi with Ghost, for the most part those moments are unfortunately often drowned out.

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10th Feb 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Deerhoof

Friend Opportunity

ATP

You get a fair idea about a band who have a touring list as diverse as Deerhoof's. Radiohead, The Roots and Wilco are but a few, and not every band would appeal to such a varied range of fans. That's because Deerhoof are not just any band. They used to be a good band who made intriguing and challenging unclassifiable pop music. Now they are great band who are just as unclassifiable but produce such sublime musical moments that will undoubtedly shape your life if you let them. They're the kind of band that have the power to make you feel smug if you get them and embarrassed if you don't and for the last 13 years they have kept us wondering if we do truly get them.

With their new album Friend Opportunity a lot of questions are answered. They seem to have listened to their previous album The Runners Four the same way I did and come to similar conclusions. They've taken all that was great about that album and crafted this one. They've trimmed away a lot of the avant guard sprawl that they started with back in the day making Friend Opportunity a beautifully paced and refreshingly brief delight.

Satomi Matsuzaki's achingly sweet, candy-pop vocals are given full range here and are perfectly contrasted and complimented by the thrilling brut force power pop that drives this sugar coated juggernaut. The album hits the ground running with The Perfect Me. It's driving guitar opener is abruptly punctuated with Matsuzaki's Roadrunner like lyrics, "Meet me, meet me, meet the perfect me." and it's somewhere during this song that you begin to suspect that these words herald the beginning of a glorious introduction to the perfect Deerhoof.

There is no point in describing each high point here as it changes every time I listen to the record. At the moment Believe E.S.P is doing it for me in a big way, but last week it was Wither The Invisible Birds? This is where this album shifts gear and gracefully pulls away from its predecessors. It's a wondrously orchestrated landscape in which Satomi's voice spreads its wings and soars to new heights. It ceases to be sugar pop and blossoms before your ears into sublime maturity.

Unfortunately however for a band like Deerhoof one cannot sit comfortably through these wonderful moments. They're not out to please unconditionally and there's always a lesson or two that needs to be taught. The album finishes with Look Away, a 12 minute marathon of feet shuffling noise that very nearly undoes all the good work that went before. But as it finally fizzles out you realise that lurking in this irritation lies the reason you love this band. It's not the kind of song you want to hear again but without its threat the whole experience wouldn't be anywhere near as thrilling and the success of this album rests in the balance between this threat and the delivery of pure unrivaled joy.

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2nd Feb 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Proposition

(dir. John Hillcoat)

19th century lawman Captain Stanley (Ray Winstone) captures Charlie (Guy Pearce) and Mikey Burns. In order to save Mikey from hanging, Charlie is released and given nine days to find and kill their older brother Arthur Burns (Danny Huston), a grusume criminal.

This brutal narrative, penned by Nick Cave, gives a vivid impression of an early, lawless Australia. The oppresive heat, vast landscapes and ruthless characters add to the sense of drama here. The early signs of destruction of the Aboriginal peoples are here. Some have been tempted into the world of the settlers and others fighting to proetect their community and native culture.

Whilst all these components set the film up nicely the action doesn't quite live up to the potential. Certain relationships such as Winstone's with his wife (Emily Watson), and why he suffers from chronic head pain are only alluded to. Likewise, the dynamic between the outlaw brothers is never really uncovered. At only 1 hour 40 there was some room to expand on these themes further, but still an enjoyable and interesting experience.

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15th Jan 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Babel

(dir. Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu)

Another heavy-hitting multi-stranded drama from Inarritu, very much in the style of Amores Perros and 21 Grams.

Here we've got several stories dotted around the globe to tie up:

*Two young Moroccan brothers involved in an accidental shooting
*Tourists Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett in Morocco (ok, you can see where those first two might join up)
*Mexican nanny Adriana Barraza taking care of the Pitt/Blanchett brood while they're on holiday, and getting a lift with her nephew Gael Garcia Bernal across the Mexican border to her son's wedding
*Deaf teen Rinko Kikuchi looking for trouble in Tokyo and her father Koji Yakusho (Memoirs of a Geisha) trying to communicate with her

All the stories are beautifully shot, with a consistent level of intense performances all round, but it's hard to escape the feeling that this is a film so caught up by the weight of its message (if only we could all just… talk… to… each other) that it somehow falls short of the greatness of AP and 21G. Would these stories have any less impact if they were told in chronological order?

Started to remind me a little of Wim Wenders' underrated Until The End Of The World, zipping around the globe, building up a sense of the world being connected, from a Tokyo disco to a Mexican wedding. For a while this is all powerful enough to pull you through (Kikuchi's a stand-out performance) - but somewhere it seems to lose focus, and the reliance on what really boil down to some fairly shallow (if undeniably well acted) stereotypes (kooky Japanese teen, volatile hard-drinking Mexicans, rude American tourists etc) makes it a somewhat shallower experience than it seems to *cough OSCAR* think it's delivering.

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#chimp71

29th Dec 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

120 Days

120 Days

Smalltown Supersound/Vice

120 Days is a fair assumption of what might have happened had Ian McCulloch or even Bono turned up for the post of Ian Curtis' replacement instead of Bernard Sumner. Fusing driving 80's beats, tight guitar arrangements and soaring vocals, Norway's 120 Days have crafted a tidal wave of sound with their debut LP. Their intention to 'go large' is evident from the 9 minute techno opener of Come Out. It's long, sprawling, cold, impenetrable, it's late night motor-way driving, it's Michael Mann and it sums up the grand vision of this record. Taking the best bits from the 80's indie scene and injecting a bit of Kraftwerk here and there this is a most satisfying debut and although they never reach the intensity or raw passion of bands like Joy Division or Neu! they still manage to create a grandeur that at times is quite thrilling.

They tend to stick to a tried and tested formula with each track creeping in on a swirling, astral synth wave making way for the hard, bass heavy drum-machine beat to kick in. This driving techno-like structure provides acres of space for the dark vocals as they slowly building us up to majestic heights. The stand out moment is Get Away, and with it we see a brief emergence of a more rock orientated structure with the sweeping synths making way for soaring guitars and Adne Meisfjord's vocals break out from their electro confines to embrace a more passionate level of intensity. This all culminates with the epic 11.5 minutes of closing track I've Lost My Vision. Often a closer of this length means an annoying hidden track that follows 6 minutes of silence but here it's beats all the way home. The vocals have the luxury of starting 2 minutes in and then slowly dropping away to let the music span out over this vast landscape only to return later to remind you just how awesome this song is. Then just as any self respecting track would be called in for their dinner, 120 Days plays on with a soaring 2 minute guitar finale.

The albums formula can seem repetitive at times but it sounds intentional and adds to the high speed-4 am-sprawling-Autobahn vibe. The synths echo the sweep of street lights as they pass over head every second for miles and miles and the beats become the evenly spaced motorway repair lines that bump the wheels over and over. It all becomes quite mesmerizing at times and this debut should be accompanied by a government warning not to listen to it while driving.

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29th Nov 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Chin Up Chin Up

This Harness Can't Ride Anything

This is the second album from Chicago's Chin Up Chin Up and sees them make slight yet important improvements on their previous LP. 2004's brilliantly titled We Should Have Never Lived Like We Were Skyscrapers was a great piece of understated indie bliss and The Harness Can't Hide Anything is a similar story only singer Jeremy Bolen has brought his vocals more to the foreground changing his hushed tones to a more raw, unpolished delivery. As a result their sound has become a lot less polite.

From the outset you can feel the sound being more in-focus as the title track gets things off to a good pace with it's driving guitars and fast drumming. Although most of the songs tend to employ a repeated vocal and guitar rhythm as their home straight the sound never becomes repetitive.

I Need A Friend With A Boat is probably the best song on the album. It chimes in with Cure-like guitars and steadily builds to a fantastic crest of driving bass lines, piano and violin. Blankets Like Beavers follows similar suit until half way through spews out a glorious synth drive that takes the song off to new heights of rhyhthmical Spoon territory. Landlocked Lifeguards shows it's teeth a bit more finishing off with a din of screeching guitars and crashing cymbals which sets up the beautiful Stolen Mountains. This is the most delicate song on the album revisiting the hushed vocals of their previous work. It has a gentle, plodding rhythm as its structure but nicely turns into a drum/string medley with a bit of glockenspiel thrown in as well.

The Harness Can't Hide Anything is a similar story to White Whale's WW1 in that it is all really solid but as a result doesn't have any obvious highlights - but also has no low points either. On the final song Trophies For Hire Bolan sums up the album very well when he says, "These lakes are not oceans, these trees are not forests," but in his defense, sometimes the grand, dramatic landscapes which he hints at are not always what is needed and Chin Up Chin Up haven't aimed for that but have produced a quality piece of indie rock, what more could we want?

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22nd Nov 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Joanna Newsom

Ys

OK, you're going to have to bear with me on this review as I am breaking a strict rule of mine while writing it - and that rule is to never embark on a review until you know what the album is about. To mislead the hoards of readers we have on this site with knee-jerk opinions would be a dreadful misuse of responsibility. So from the outset I will be honest and admit that I haven't got a clue what the hell is going on on this second full length from the enigma that is Joanna Newsom. The reason I am not waiting until I do know more is that I get the impression that that day will never come, but as I have firmly made up my mind that this is a work of unrivaled genius I think that is justification enough to start the review.

Clocking in at just under an hour and boasting only 5 songs, the longest being almost 17 minutes, Ys certainly is a commitment. Starting this album is an experience akin to standing at the foot of a massive mountain. You know you want to climb it but the view from the bottom makes you question whether you have it in you and it's not until you've completed the first leg of the opening 12 minutes of Emily that you start to realise what an epic journey you have ahead of you but the view from there is so special that to reach the summit fills your heart with excitement and you push on. Those who do reach the top are rewarded in ways too profound to mention. Not only is there the sense of pride on having made it this far but the strange compulsion to go straight down to the bottom and do it all again is overwhelming.

So despite not knowing anything about the meaning of this work we have established that it's quite good and so can distract ourselves with some background facts concerning it's conception and production. It follows in the footsteps of 2004's critically acclaimed debut The Milk Eyed Mender and takes it's title from a mythical Breton city that was flooded as punishment for the decadence of its inhabitants. Newsom describes dreams she had after having written the record that the title had to have a Y and an S in it and should only be one syllable, after coming across a reference to this myth she knew that Ys, pronounced 'Ees', had to be her title. The album features a whole host of stars backstage. It is engineered by Steve Albini, produced by Jim O'Rourke and all but one song is given full orchestral arrangement by Van Dyke Parks, it also has the occasional backing vocal by boyfriend Bill 'Smog' Callahan. But it's Newsom herself that ultimately makes this record what it is. Her voice achieves a much more expansive range here going from booming depth to ear-piercing squeaks to a floating beauty that is simply heart melting. Her debut had her lumped in with the acid-folk of Devandra Banhart which in my opinion didn't do her any favors. This record will undoubtedly put an end to all that as its richness and awesome scope makes it near impossible to label. Comparisons to the work of Bjork and Kate Bush are valid only in terms of vision and shear single mindedness. As time moves on it will be impossible to guess when this album was made, it has a timeless quality and no references to modern times whatsoever. (I thought I found one on Emily when what I supposed was the lyric "The media writes just what causes the light and the media's how it's perceived," turned out to be "The meteorite's just what causes the light and the meteor's how its perceived.") You get immersed in the vivid descriptions of nature and stories that are told with such a beguiling use of language that you stop trying to follow their meaning and sit back content to let your heart dance in the warmth and ease with which these magical words tumble out. There is little point in going through the album song by song as this is a piece of work where each element has to be seen in the context of the whole. It's not just the length of the songs that makes them so daunting, they feature no standard chorus structure, there is virtually no let up in the flow of expertly pronounced poetry or free flowing harp and Park's orchestration sweeps you up and catapults you across his epic cinematic landscape and each song leaves you exhausted. But the profundity of this exhaustion comes from the honesty of the artist, none of this album seems contrived or pretentious. It's one of those rare moments of originality that is self made.

You can arm yourself with as many facts as you like about this album but none of them will help you on your journey, they will only weigh you down. Just as Luke bravely put away his mechanical means of navigation on his assault on The Death Star so must we turn off logical thought on our long trek towards the summit of Mount Newsom and let some other force guide us. To do this is the only way to reach the top and once there the view will be more spectacular than you could possibly imagine.

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20th Nov 2006 - 6 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Working For A Nuclear Free City

Working For A Nuclear Free City

Melodic

This is a promising debut from the Manchester quartet and it benefits greatly from its release on the always-worth-a-listen Melodic record label. Known better for complex glitch-pop electronica like that of Minotaur Shock or Lucky Pierre, Melodic have tirelessly strived to give us innovative and engaging music. Their artists have always been eclectic and so it's no surprise that a guitar band such as Working For A Nuclear Free City should attract their attention. The spirit of The Stone Roses lives on in these guys, but their use of electronics sets them apart from the 90's Manchester scene fusing The Longcut, Primal Scream and Ian Brown with a sound all their own.

The scene is set beautifully with the opening celestial grandeur of 'The 224th Day', which builds you up gloriously only to drop you suddenly into the dirty beats of 'Troubled Son'. The earth shaking bassline mixes ominously with the murky vocals that make this record so interesting. It is described as techno music played on guitars and from this opening display that description seems pretty apt. 'Dead Fingers Talking' has enough arrogant swagger to have been penned by Ian Brown himself and firmly reawakens rocks danceable side.

The band started off as an instrumental trio and only recruited vocalist Ed Hulme 2 days before their first live gig. This is the key to the success of their music. They have created a wonderfully sophisticated blend of dark, beat driven rock, washed out indie bliss and programmed electronic instrumentals that really aim for the stars. It's a very well paced album and the use of minimal, orchestral down time brings added weight to the moments of might. Once you have them pegged as Manchester's new Roses as in the astral psychedelia of 'Over', they blast you with sonic noise until you retract that comparison. 'Innocence' is 'Fools Gold' meets David Axelrod and breaks into the most shamelessly funky bass twang heard since Starsky and Hutch, while 'Forever' chugs along effortlessly on a bass heavy beat that gradually fades into the cinematic soundscape of the closing track 'The Tree'.

Having started Stone Roses and finished Philip Glass you really question what the hell you just listened to. This band set up comparisons only to dash them with a sound so refreshingly open minded that it's almost impossible to predict the way forward for them. Describing their mission with this debut they claim "We want to create an alternative to the retrospective trend in music, to get the focus back on something innovative." So as Kasabian are busy claiming rights to the musical throne they'd do well to keep an eye on the rear view mirror for the challenger speeding up behind them, more than capable of steeling their self appointed and somewhat imaginary crown.

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31st Oct 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Akron/Family

Meek Warrior

Young God Records

This is the third album from the enigma that is Akron/Family and as always it is a weird and often wonderful journey. This New York based quartet do everything they can to confuse you, alienate you, dazzle you and ultimately impress you with their brand of freak folk, post-rock and whatever other genre they decide to drop during this 35 minute slice of madness.

I say madness but for their standards this is quite normal. It's basically a regular alt folk, semi religious record in the style of Danielson or Davandra Banhart that's framed by two crazy, freak out monster jams. To open an album with a song like 'Blessing Force' lets the listener know early that to sit comfortably would be a mistake. Tribal drums, crashing cymbals and feedback start things off, before this turns into group chanting which heralds what we all think is the start of this song, but no. Another whiplash change of direction and the song careers off in another direction, that of head-fuck, twisted guitar and yet more sprawling drum landscapes. Then 3 minutes later we get the free-form jazz section and if you look ahead on your iTunes time bar you realise with horror that you have 2 more minutes of this ear-piercing noise to go. Just as the Rowntrees Fruit Pastel adverts dare you to eat one with out chewing, Akron/Family dare you not to skip this bit. I took up this dare once and finished the track but never again. As ambitious as 'Blessing Force' is, it does sound a bit like a nine minute show-reel and as the beautiful lo-fi folk of 'Gone Beyond' gently follows you can't help thinking that what just went before was nothing but a glitch in the system and somehow a particularly experimental Liars track found its way on to the start of this album.

So from here on in we get the delicate country ditties of the title track, the sparse soundscapes of 'No Space In This Realm' and the fragile finger picking of 'Lightning Bolt Of Compassion'. Then comes the other freak-out monster jam. 'The Rider (Dolphin Song)' is a measly seven minutes though and easier to stomach than its predecessor. It's a dark, brooding scuzz-bucket of noise that explodes erratically into formless improv. It's the evil cousin of Radiohead's 'National Anthem' and finishes you off with a deafening squall that must utilise every instrument in the studio. But the Family don't leave your bruised and pummeled corpse there. No, they pick you up, dust you down and take you to Sunday School with the closing track 'Love And Space'. Here, each band member gets a turn in chanting the "Lord Open My Heart.." mantra and all the craziness from the past 35 minutes is nicely forgotten.

This is another brave example of Akron/Family's talents. By painstakingly constructing their beautiful folk landscapes, only to destroy them in a reckless act of sabotage, they challenge the listener to question what they're listening to. While this is the albums strength it is also its failing. The experimental moments are too few and far between and instead of the annoying wrecking balls they try to be, when put amongst the delicate psych-folk of the other tracks they become the best songs on the album and are so powerful that the others appear out of place. But there is more than enough on Meek Warrior to confirm that Akron/Family are one of those important bands that refuse to be classified and will go on challenging you and daring you whether you like it or not.

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31st Oct 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Tortoise

A Lazarus Taxon

Some bands never put a foot wrong. Whether it's a perfectly pitched new album, a superb accompanying book, or a zeitgeist-defining DVD they get everything right.

Tortoise might well be one of those bands. With this 3 CD+DVD box set, the Chicago band collect together 12 years of rarities, b-sides, remixes and live material - as well as numerous promo videos and some live footage - all superbly presented in this box set with artwork by retired Swiss policeman Arnold Odermatt.

Where oddities and rarities often make for a patchy album at best, Tortoise manage to hold steady over three CDs without ever feeling like we're being fed scraps and left-overs.

The first two discs compile 25 tracks from Japanese issues, compilations, promotional 7" singles and more. The opening 12 minute Gamera is superb - a drastic reworking His Second Story Island from the debut Tortoise album. Gamera is then re-worked itself later on - now called Goiriri. David Pajo's composition Vaus also stands out, as does promo 7" track Madison Area - all using sublime instrumentals to creat a moody, atmospheric landscape.

For disc three this compilation manages to avoid the pitfalls of some compilations and keep even the remixes on-message. Following the release of their debut album, the band asked some friends to provide remixes - which became long-out-of-print album Rhythms, Resolutions & Clusters - included here in it's entirety. Generally avoiding the "Blah Blah (Ho Hum Remix)" path, most of these are re-built as completely new tracks - often with new titles. Steve Albini, Jim O'Rourke and Mike Watt are amongst the chefs - with Watt and Kira Roeseler adding some Dos bass to extra bonus track Cornpone Brunch.

Like the 4 sided double album ("let's play disc 2, side 1") before it, even a 3CD set is condensed into one, long digital playlist these days. Although 33 songs, 3CDs or 2.9 hours is certainly a lot to cover there's barely a moment to rest and like Fugazi, Wilco, Radiohead no record collection is complete without some Tortoise - and this might well be the place to start.

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17th Oct 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Pride Of Baghdad

Brian K Vaughan and Niko Henrichon

Based on the true-life story of a pride of lions that escaped from Baghdad zoo during a 1993 US bombing raid, this graphic novel reworks the Disney Incredible Journey talking animals routine into a subtle take on the Iraq War. Zoo-keepers stand in for Saddam's regime, a metaphor that works to explore the push-pull control of living in a dictatorship; while at the same time the casually brutal effects of "shock and awe" blanket-bombing are somehow even more shocking when seen through animal eyes. Avoids the potentially corny Babe aspects you might expect.

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11th Oct 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Susumu Yokota

Wonder Waltz

Susumu Yokota is undeniably a genius of modern music. Originating from Japan's minimal techno scene he has strived to create compositions of such complex depth and at the same time dazzling simplicity. His most praiseworthy work however has taken on a more abstract quality and still very much in his prime he has created three classic albums that defy comparison. Grinning Cat saw Yokota depict the Alice In Wonderland story through atmospheric soundscapes while The Boy And The Tree and his master work Sakura follow a similar path creating multi layered sounds out of sampled and live percussion and strange noises never before heard by the human ear. The result can barely be described as music but touches on a kind of ugly beauty that is absolutely captivating.

Wonder Waltz is his recent album on Lo Recordings and while it still has his trademark touch it is nowhere near as interesting. Listening to the three previously mentioned records can be a frustrating experience as they never quite give you what you think you want and quite often what you think you want is some sort of beat or rhythm to emerge out of these soundscapes to bring some form to the abstract. This album proves that you shouldn't trust those form searching instincts as he gives you exactly what you have craved for years and it is disappointing. There is too much form here and the result is a little ordinary. When I say ordinary I mean by Yokota's standards, as this is far better than most other down tempo music trickling out of the tired 'chill out' scene.

There are however glimmers of Yokota's genius throughout the album, the finest moment being Pegasus 150 with its eastern horns and vocal harmonies floating over a beat sampled entirely from galloping horses hooves. Another highlight comes with Robed Heart, a beautiful violin piece accompanied by a delicate percussion beat and vocals sung in English which sees yet another departure for Yokota.

So on the whole this is a solid album with many genuinely rewarding moments but seen in the context of his back catalogue Yokota proves that it's not always best to get what you want.

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26th Sep 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Nathan Fake

Drowning In A Sea Of Love

This is a surprisingly beautiful release from the Reading based artist Nathan Fake, on the Border Community label. I say surprising because I really haven't been buying this type of music for a while as the market got so saturated with it. Drowning... is a blissed out, synth-electronica album not unlike something you may find on the fabulous German label Morr Music. It's warm electronica with soul. It's dedicated to creating soundscapes and moods rather than minimal bleep, glitch displays. He manages this by slowly building the structure with simple beats awash with ever increasing layers of synthesizers, cymbals and the occasional sample. The first track, 'Stops' is the highlight. The beats trickle down like water over the top of a slightly unnerving sample of breathing. A delicate beat fades in and the melody begins and sparkles with such vulnerability it could almost collapse. It is like someone has fitted an iPod to your head while you are deep sea diving and all you can hear are these tiny drops of beats and your own breath.

While no song quite tops the opener it is a very satisfactory experience, changing mood often from meditative to almost dancy-electro-pop. Fake isn't pushing any boundaries here and is walking in some very well trodden footsteps but is certainly doing them proud and filling them well.

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11th Jul 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Brown Bunny

(dir. Vincent Gallo)

Motorbike racing loner Bud Clay (Vincent Gallo) travels across America for a race in Los Angeles, meeting several girls along the way - all the while looking a replacement for the love that he has lost, haunted by the memory of the last time he saw her.

Prior to seeing this film there were two forces governing my expectations:
1. The awesome trailer, laying Jackson C. Frank's song Milk And Honey over a split screen montage of an empty highway and an accident at a party.

2. The literal barrage of negative press following the screening at Cannes, and mostly regarding the edit of the film and the X-Rated sex scene with Gallo and Chloe Sevigny.

As Buffalo 66 had been so enjoyable I was at the very least intrigued to see what could have gone wrong with this alleged train crash of a movie. Things start of OK, with a slow sequence following Bud Clay as he competes in a race in New Hampshire. The shooting style seems like a mid 70's documentary, using grainy handheld footage. Clay then packs up his bike into his van, but before heading out on the open road he meets a young girl and convinces her to come to California with him. As she runs into her house to pick up a few things, Bud Clay changes his mind and drives away. Cue 20 minutes of Gallo driving. No dialogue. Repeat.

While Gallo is quite effective and watch-able, a lot of the interest is based upon some knowledge of his off screen personality - plus you are always waiting to see if nothing really does happen. The shooting shooting style is nice (and occasionally great), but you can't help but feel it's not quite how it should be. A long shot will focus on Gallo driving, while an out of focus landscape rolls past in the background. Except the foreground will be slightly out of focus too. The DVD was presented in the original aspect ratio of 1.66:1 (leaving black bars on the left and right), but then some shots of the film seemed like they had been spliced back into the film after some some time literally on the cutting room floor... to no apparent effect.

The hype around the movie is mainly due to it's explicit nature, but if Gallo really wanted to improve the film he could have started by chopping that entire scene out, as it really does provide no further exposition or depth to the characters. The scenes following the x-rated scene do make the film somewhat more worthwhile, making the viewer think back over what they have been watching and draw some kind of sense - but the trailer was just as effective as the movie, setting up the tragedy and creating the same emotional impact in a mere two minutes. The poster is great too.

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8th Jun 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Grandaddy

Just Like The Fambly Cat

I don't know what it is about this band but their strange tales of childlike melancholia told with such charm and unrivalled innocence do something beautiful to me and I am so upset to hear that this will be the last little gem they will be offering the world. This fact considered, it is hard to listen to this without getting all sad and retrospective. This feeling is laid on thick from the first track; 'What Happened..' is a simple yet effective opener comprising of various children asking the question “What happened to the family cat?” This summons up all the emotions necessary to make this album work for you, a sense of regret, loss and a childhood long passed. However we are soon firmly shaken out of this self-pity by ‘Jeez Louise’ and we remember all the good times we had with this band. It is impossible to listen to this album and not interpret Jason Lytle’s lyrics as explanations for the break-up. ‘Rear View Mirror’ hints at the frustration of a journey spent forever looking back and once you get over the initial disappointment that this is not a cover of the Pearl Jam classic of the same name it soon becomes the standout track on the album. ‘Elevate Myself’ is a fantastic casio-drumbeat manifesto on exactly why Lytle is doing what he’s doing. Among his wants and don’t want’s he claims “I don’t wanna be a part of all the quality that falls apart these days.”

Initially I was quite disappointed with 2003’s ‘Sumday’ feeling it lacked the quirky elements I so enjoyed in ‘The Software Slump.’ I soon revised this opinion as the beauty took hold and although a lot of the songs on ‘…Fambly Cat’ would fit comfortably on ‘Sumday’ it does go some way to bridge the gap. It’s a pretty up and down affair in general, with Little feeling sorry for himself one minute then, as in the glorious semi-instrumental ‘Skateboarding Saves Me Twice,’ telling us that everything will be just fine.

I cant help listening to the last track ‘This Is How It Always Starts’ without thinking of those terrible compilation moments that Gary Lineker shows us as England inevitably and unjustly exit the World Cup. The songs they pick (usually REM’s ‘Everybody Hurts’) guide us through the highs and lows of a great yet ultimately tragic journey and you could imagine a similar compilation of Grandaddy’s best moments set to this beautiful and soaring finale marking the end to a truly wonderful journey. And this album as a whole could be those highlights. On ‘Elevate Myself’ Little states “ I’d rather make an honest sound, watch it fly around and be on my way.” And that’s exactly what he has done. His sound will continue to fly and I wish him good luck.

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22nd May 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Da Vinci Code Movie

(dir. Ron Howard)

Vite! Ou est la Mona Lisa? Ah oui, it's over 'ere! Zere must be another clue 'ere, non?

Tom Hanks runs around Paris with Audrey Tatou looking for medieval clues, with Jean "Leon" Reno and kerrrazy albino monk Paul Bettany on his tail. Gandalf helps them out a bit with some Biblical history and a quick Photoshop guide to the Last Supper. He's also got a private jet which totally comes in handy at the last minute. Phew. Doctor Octopus is one of the secret society head honchos.

Other escapes involve some doves showing up to scare off some gun-wielding baddies with their powerful symoblism; using the old "chuck the tracking device out the window" trick; and er, shutting a van door. (if anyone can explain what actually happens in this scene, i'd really like to know...)

At one point Tom Hanks utters the immortal line "Get me to a library!" But Audrey manages to find a kid on a bus who's actually figured out how to make his 3G phone work. This is possibly the most unbelievable scene.

It's competent, trashy, stupid fun, packed with some hilarious lines, corny plot "twists" and the odd noisy shock. And it saves you the trouble of reading the book. Be great if it flopped, but it won't.

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17th May 2006 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Buck 65

Secret House Against The World

Buck 65 could read a shopping list or even my last rights and I would love it, so I guess I am not the best person to write a review of his music. I think this is his eleventh album (I lost count ages ago) and it sees a real departure from the previous works. He is known for his hobo like musings about life, love, shoe-shine and just about anything -and all this over self-crafted beats and soundscapes. But here we see a new musical injection that at first jars, as it is not what we expect from Buck, but then we realise that the very thing we love about this guy is his freedom from any genre, collective or type and we are right back loving him again.

There are some sublime moments of real beauty here and most of them come with the new inclusion of a female voice that sits so pretty next to the Waits style growl of Buck. We first see this new combo on ‘The Suffering Machine, ‘ a gentle, acoustic led song full of heart wrenching sadness about a lost soul ambling aimlessly from place to place with no friends and waiting for the “Black angel,” to carry him down. On his web site, Buck reviews his own albums. He says that this album has what was missing all along and that is melody, female voice and lushness Well this song has all of that. I never thought a hip hop song could bring tears to my eyes but The Floor does just that. You listen with open mouth as he tells the story of his abusive father coming home and throwing "the goldfish to the cat on the kitchen floor" while his beaten and down trodden mother just smiled "the saddest smile I’ve ever seen in my life."

Buck has grown up with this album. It is about serious stuff and though it has all the profound musings that we have come to expect, the musical composition adds weight to the words and it’s truly moving. Buck gives it three out of five on his site but I will see that and raise it.

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12th May 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Sunset Rubdown

Shut Up I Am Dreaming

Jagjaguwar

Whoever said the best music is being made in Canada is such a bore. We have all known that for ages, and here is some more evidence. Sunset Rubdown is a spin off group, fronted by Wolf Parade’s keyboardist and vocalist Spencer Krug and it's a little gem of an album. Krug’s distinctive voice makes this very comparable to Wolf Parade, but it’s a much more low-fi and immediate affair. Having said this the band manages to create such epic masterpieces out of next to nothing. Sparse, stripped down songs like Us Ones In Between plod along with such delicate beauty, and the contrast of seemingly cheapskate instruments overlaid with some of the most profoundly sad and insightful lyrics I have heard in a long time is powerful to say the least. Creatures great and small are a common theme on this album, lyrics like “I have heard of creatures who eat their babies/I wonder if they stop to think about the taste” are then reversed to say “Oh baby mother me before you eat me.” The Empty Threats Of Little Lord is another gem that echoes this sentiment, where “If I ever hurt you it will be in self-defence,” and “If you ever come at me I’ll hurt you,” are seen in a different more pathetic light when considering the songs title. Again, they follow such a delicate structure that it almost threatens to collapse under its own frail melancholy.

The lyrics to each song could be read as a book of poems and would still retain their impact and profundity when removed from the music. They create an almost dream like landscape of wild creatures and lovers that live forever. On the epic seven minute long The Men Are Called Horsemen, Krug structures the whole song around the horse metaphor stating “If I was a horse I’d have bricks in my mane, If I was a horse I’d throw up the reins." But then continues on to claim “But I am no horse and you are no angel.” Another seven-minute masterpiece brings this unexpected delight to a close with the title track Shut Up I’m Dreaming, which is what I would advise you tell people if they talk over this album. It is worth dedicating time to this.

Recently, I saw a poll of the best lyrics in modern pop music. I think the winner was a Morrissey lyric, and it got me thinking about the content of a lot of the songs that structure my life. To my surprise I found that though they were songs of undeniable genius, very few of the lyrics really stood up to scrutiny once taken away from the music. This isn’t always necessary but it’s great when you come across some that do. I strongly recommend looking these songs up and reading them as poetry, you won’t be sorry.

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10th May 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Constant Gardener

(dir. Fernando Meirelles)

Quality spy offering from the John le Carré novel, swapping his cold war agents for just-as-cold corporate bureaucrats and civil servants working abroad in Kenya.

Think I was expecting more of an English Patient level romance here, pitching a relationship against the sweep of history etc. It does a bit of that, with slightly wet minister Ralph (rafe) Fiennes somehow swinging fiesty activist Rachel Weisz and getting her to head out to Africa with him and his plants.

What's handled really well is the way that Fiennes is slowly forced into action, trying to work out if Weisz has been doing the dirty on him, and also finding out who his friends in the Foreign Office really are. Bill Nighy's got a solid cameo doing his thing well, and Danny Huston (who i loved in the underrated Ivan's XTC) is also shaping up to be a decent character actor.

The anger against corporate indifference/callousness towards the price of African life is succinct, without spilling into preachiness - feels like a real, rather than movie evil. Good use of the landscapes - both Kenya and London, looking totally grey compared to the African colours. Interesting to have a non-uk director like Meirelles who did City Of God etc shooting London.

Overall, it's slow, but not dull if you're in the mood. The only duff note is a teenage hacker who does one of those movie tech bits: "yeah, just like crack into the mirror server and wah wah wah" which should get him a job at CTU any day now…

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24th Feb 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Happy, Texas

(dir. Mark Illsley)

Two bumbling convicts escape from prison and upon arriving in Happy, Texas are mistaken for a couple of gay pagent organisers. Slowly however their presence in the town begins to affect different people in different ways...

I don't even know why I watched this, or in fact why I taped in to begin with.... but it was allright. Kind of reminded me of the kind of movie I would have got out from Star Video in 1987, in a License to Drive kind of way. It was moderately amusing, I like Steve Zahn, Jeremy Northam, Illeana Douglas and of course William H. Macy. It wasn't too long either.

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29th Jul 2004 - Add Comment - Tweet

St. Elmo's Fire

(dir. Joel Schumacher)

A mixed bunch of University graduates find life in the real world much tougher than they thought.

Re-watching this movie recently, I slowly realised that this is really what I expected grown up 'real life' to be like. Crashing round people's 'pads' on the floor after a row with the wife, shooting vodka at random moments and playing the sax. Even casually smoking a fag while haphazardly cooking stir fry.

This movie is so John Hughes-esque it's unbelievable, even though he didn't have anything to do with it. It does however turn out on the DVD commentary that Joel Schumacher had an office just down the corridor from Hughes, so they no doubt had a crazy night out, ended up having a glass of brandy and smoking a fag together on the fire escape while mulling over ideas.

Part goofball, part genius. This movie works on many levels.

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23rd Jan 2004 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Mars Volta

De-loused In The Comatorium

At The Drive In were one of those bands that I always meant to check out, I just never got round to it. So when I got hold of this album I was expecting quite a lot. And this album does rock - starting as it means to go on. The songs are pretty unconventional in terms of pace / tempo / rhythm, and you have to be in the right mood for it. Headphones are recommended.

Fortunately I have been finding myself in the mood more and more - planning train journeys so we can spend some time together. As a sweeping rollercoaster of jazzy - sometimes progish - rock this would make a great soundtrack for some freaky movie. Sonic landscapes flow out gently, then spin on a dime to be full-frontal aural assualts of conspiracy riddled lyrics. "If you only knew the plans they had for us....."

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1st Oct 2003 - Add Comment - Tweet