Chimpomatic

Vivian Girls

Vivian Girls

In The Red

The indie revival continues with this album from Brooklyn's Vivian Girls - pulling girl-group harmonies over the top of shoe-gazing guitars that know a bit about feedback. After a vinyl-only release on Mauled By Tigers sold out in no time, In The Red have stepped in to give this debut full-length a wider distribution.

The album starts as it means to go on - jumping striaght into the already full-flowing maelstrom of All The Time - and the tempo seldom slows from there. You could easily megamix the tracks together with a half-dozen (Going Insane, Tell The World, No ...."No, no, no. No. No. No.") all following a clearly cut template.

Such A Joke tries to bend the formula a little, with the spinal bassline tying together an almost surf sound, but here the production values just blend the promising track into mush. In the era of home studio and Garageband, there little excuse for sounding like an 8-track recording. Where Do You Run finds the band heading into Lush's well mapped territory - emulating Miki Berenyi's love-lost lyrics over charming harmonies, making for easily the most successful track on the album.

There's no doubt that some of the production problems would be overcome in a live setting, as the band have an undoubted energy and charisma. At best they head towards the steady sound of 80/90's 4AD and the likes of Lush or The Amps, but next to someone like Electrelane, these Vivian Girls seem pale and tired in comparison.

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17th Sep 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Kings Of Leon

Only By The Night

Sony

With relatively little fanfare, Tennessee's London's favourite sons the Kings of Leon are back with Only By The Night - their fourth long player in 5 years, and a mere 18 months since the barn-storming Because Of The Times. I'm not sure why that merits a mention, but in a world where The Verve just ambled out number four it seems prolific - particularly when The Kings seem to have spend the last 18 months playing Brixton or Hammersmith every other week. However, next to The Doors (6 in 5 years), Led Zeppelin (8 for 10) or even The Beatles (13 for 7) that shouldn't really be something to write home about.

Moody opener Closer starts the album, before grungey lead 'free download' Crawl does little more than offer an introduction to the band's new fuzz-drenched sound. In contrast, actual single Sex On Fire provides the most obvious link to the band's previous successful formula, as Caleb Followill wails over great drums and moody guitars about being seemingly double-crossed by another Black Hearted Woman. As usual, it's a formula that works - producing perhaps the most succesful song on the album.

Although the band are claiming to be 'ready to tackle their southern roots again', this album is even more of a departure from their original sound - a transition mirrored perfectly with their beards getting shorter and jeans getting tighter. The lyrics and story-telling here seem more and more detached from the band's image - and stories of life on the wrong side of the tracks, ramblin' in the desert and calling 'shotgun' with some hot fresher just don't reconcile with the dude I've been seeing in the gossip columns, hanging out in VIP London hotspots with famous rock-star daughters.

17 starts off like it's their contribution to a Now Christmas! album, as Caleb croons "She's only 17...!" , while the cowbell heavy I Want You, or dragged out soft-rock anthem of Cold Desert seem to match the Hill Valley sentiment of "I'm gonna be somebody!" - with added 80's rock producton that would have graced a Bon Jovi ballad. Manhatten echoes the sentiment with "Gonna show this town!" and you start to feel like there's a confidence crisis going on somewhere. Surely they are somebody by now? Or maybe this is all about the band's still relative lack of success stateside - and NME hasn't made it to Tennessee yet.

With these guys, rather than having a new album's worth of great material it seems like perhaps a shift of branding might be the cause of the quick turnaround - as the band try and play the credibility card and crack the elusive US market, where they still only sell around 200,000 copies per album. The result is unfortunately a strange mix of too much effort and not trying hard enough.

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12th Sep 2008 - 4 comments - 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.

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

Jaguar Love

Take Me To The Sea

Matador Records

Fans of disbanded Seattle bands Blood Brothers or Pretty Girls Make Graves , may be excited to know that certain members of each (Cody Votolato and Johnny Whitney from BB. Jay Clark from PGMG) have joined forces, relocated to Portland, formed Jaguar Love, signed to Matador records and now released their debut album "Take Me To The Sea". Those same fans might also like to know, that while the complex and creative intesity that marked previous incarnations remains in place, the hardcore brashness has been smoothed down into something altogether more melodic. Not too melodic mind, as they have already snagged a support slot for leading rockers Queens Of The Stone Age in the States. Those fans need fear not either, Johnny Whitney's unique vocals are certainly present, correct and unique as ever.

And here's the crux of the matter; personally I've never engaged with either of those two former bands - so I'm taking no emotional currency with me into "Take Me To The Sea". The tunes are indeed complex, interesting, well put together, energetic and all the rest of it - but there is no escaping those vocals. Some of the more favourable critical comparisons out there include "pure Bolan-esque glam" or "Robert Plant on Steroids". Some of the less favourable "...like Perry Farrell after a sex change" or this gem..."..like a child being tortured". I'm in the latter camp - and while the music maybe "At The Drive-In', the vocals are definately more "Alvin The Chipmunks", which unfortunately makes the album pretty much unlistenable.

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9th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

King Khan & The Shrines

The Supreme Genius Of King Khan & The Shrines

Vice

"King Khan and the Shrines" aka "King Khan and His Sensational Shrines" aka "The Supreme Genius of King Khan and His Sensational Shrines" is the work of Blacksnake, aka King Khan. Phew, that's a pretty major identity crisis. After rave reviews for their 11-man-band live shows, Vice Records (home to the not-dissimmilar Black Lips) has put together this Greatest Hits, for a first-time-ever worldwide release. Thankfully it's a Greatest Hits of 16 actual songs, not band names - and musically there is a lot less of an identity crisis.

Pulling tracks from 3 studio albums (the Liam Watson produced Three Hairs & Your're MIne, the Hazelwood produced Mr Supernatural and the more recent What Is?) this compilation rounds up pretty much everything you will need from the Nugget's infused nostalgia of Khan's heavy garage psych.

From the word go it's a hotrod-race of breakneck guitars, thundering bass-lines and unhinged solos - and it's not until Fool Like Me that things slow down. The bluesy balladry of Shivers Down My Spine changes the pace briefly, while Burnin Inside starts by attempting to move out of the pre-defined template, before realising what the 'supreme genius' of King Khan & The Shrines actually is. 'if it ain't broke don't fix it'.

Khan's former Spaceshits bandmate Mark Sultan (aka BBQ) is absent from this release, and the effect of that is hard to judge through the lava-lamp haze, but at a guess I'd say there's slightly less of a 50's vibe here, and more of an early/mid 60's - but that could just be the herb talking. While it's lacking the unhinged genius of the BBQ album, What's For Dinner?, everything else is present and correct. Funky bass-lines, broken hearts, and hot chicks with great ass.

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28th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Lucky You

(dir. Curtis Hanson)

Warner Bros

Hot shot poker player Huck Cheaver (Eric Bana) struggles to raise the $10,000 needed to get into the World Series of poker. His chances seem slim when his world champion father returns to town and cleans him out. Luckily, he meets aspiring singer Drew Barrymore, who puts a few things into perspective and teaches Huck a few life lessons. A deal with a loan shark gets him into the final and Huck has finally has the chance to prove himself to his father.

Eric Bana's series of hollywood mis-steps continues with this dull poker-drama from 2007. As usual, you can see the thinking behind his unfortunate choice - written by Eric Roth (Forrest Gump, Ali, Munich, The Good Shepherd) and directed by LA Confidentail man Curtis Hanson. Unfortunately Hanson's reputation is one of inconsistency, having followed LA Confidentilal with a series of not unsuccessful left-turns - the excellent Wonderboys, then 8 Mile, then In Her Shoes. What's the comon demonimator here?

You've seen this movie a million times before - Rocky, Karate Kid, Color Of Money - but with poker the subject matter is so dull that a near-constant stream of exposition is needed to let the viewer know what's happening. "Two Kings? Huck's going to need a Jack or better to win this one!". Hanson's already covered this story in the excellent 8 Mile, and without the captivating double act of Tom Cruise and Paul Newman in Color of Money, or the flashy direction of Casino, this is just another dull Vegas drama.

Robert Duvall is the wise old man who teaches his distant son a thing or two - the hard way. Drew Barrymore delivers a fairly typical sub-par performance, telling Bana the cold hard truth and making him look inside himself. Unfortunately on this occasion he doesn't find a green giant.

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22nd Aug 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Murder City Devils

Empty Bottles Broken Hearts

Sub Pop

THEN: Second release from the heavy Seattle sextet, adding organ chops from one-time Hole bassist Leslie Hardy on top of the bluesy guitars.

NOW: "When you're sleeping in a truck stop, when you're living in a parking lot, it's hard to pull yourself up..." MCD are a rough ride on the wrong side of the tracks, gravel-throat blues hollers, wolfman howls, Bad Seeds-style barroom rock'n'roll kicked out at speed. They sound like they're having a good time singing about their bad times. Not quite enough to transcend the confines of the genre, but still pretty proficient.

SUB POP SAYS: "Unique blend of punk rock and garage swagger"

KILLER TRACK: Hey Sailor

NEXT: 1999 - Zen Guerilla - Trance States In Tongues

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13th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Pigeonhed

The Full Sentence

Sub Pop

THEN: Pigeonhed was the result of noted Seattle engineer/producer Steve Fisk collaborating with singer Shawn Smith and Soundgarden bassist Kim Thayil. Dabbling with  electronics and tape loops Pidgeonhead were an 'experimental' band, giving Sub Pop one of it's most left-field releases.

NOW: There's elements of Trip-Hop, a hint of Prince and even touches of Gospel in this hard-to-Pigeonhole album - but it still maintains an 'Alternative' tone. This still rates as a fairly left-field album and - while the meandering electro-funk of tracks like P-Street hasn't fared well - Shawn Smith's distinctive vocals add much to the atmosphere and still create several memorable tracks.

SUB POP SAYS: "Fisk and Smith contributed to some of the finest bands in the Northwest—Brad, Satchel, Pell Mell, Soundgarden, Nirvana and Beat Happening."

KILLER TRACK: For Those Gone On

NEXT: 1998 - Murder City Devils - Empty Bottles Broken Hearts

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13th 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

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12th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Ratatat

LP3

XL Recordings

LP3 is the follow up to 2006's Classics and unlike its predecessor it was recorded in a very short space of time. Mike Stroud and Evan Mast recorded LP3 at Old Soul Studios, a large old house in a the small town of Catskill in upstate New York, and this change of venue has had a significant effect on the Ratatat sound, sort of. Though the core qualities remain intact there is a much fuller emphasis on keyboards and live instrumentation rather than programmed beats. All this is layered over their trademark swathes of synths and complex beat arrangements to form a rich tapestry indeed. The problem is, all this occurs in the first half of the album and is soon forgotten by the time we get to the end.

Mi Viejo uses delightful percussion over delicate guitar conjuring images of mysterious far off lands and as it plays out with a bongo drum solo it fades into Mirando, another complex amalgamation of swirling organs and rich percussion. Whereas Classics relied on guitar as its main sound, LP3 embraces a much wider array of musical instruments and sources from the hand-clap-like beat of Imperials to the skipping piano of Brulee. These touches raise the first half from the rest and see them standing proud as beacons of a way forward.

The beats do occasionally slip into synthesized obscurity that often flattens the record out and forces many of the songs into the background. Instrumental bands such as this have to work hard to raise each song from the sea of beats that sits stagnant below and without doing this many of these songs can slip by unnoticed. Songs like Dura and Shempi are well crafted but fail to move the sound on from the other albums and while retaining a core sound across records is admirable if little is brought to the table in terms of new thought, an unmemorable 40 minutes can slip by quite easily. I am not saying that is the case here but the key points where the listener is alerted all seem to happen in the first half with the rest of the record trailing off into mediocrity. The same guitar/organ swirl permeates nearly every song and threatens to bury all the delicate complexities that delight during the early stages. By the time we get to the album closer Black Heroes the band themselves seem bored and ready to finish which is in direct contrast to how they started, both on this record and their career in general.

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11th Jul 2008 - 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

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

(dir. Steven Spielberg)

Paramount

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

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

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

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

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

O Fracas

Fits & Starts

I Can Count Records

The words 'angular' and 'spiky' are too often touted around when describing British indie music these days and they'll be dragged out yet again when referring to this Leeds four piece and their debut album Fits & Starts. Their name refers to the creative environment under which these songs were written and recorded. "Fracas is a reference to writing songs under blazing arguments, the act of creation through force, like a Super Collider," states the band - and having gone through three different bass players during the three years this album took to make this statement doesn't seem to be a word of a lie. The album is the sum parts of three sessions recorded with each of these different line-ups which does explain the varied sounds experienced during its thirty five minutes.

Along with angular guitars, quintessentially English vocals are also an element often found on todays indie scene and this band have it all. But despite that, O Fracas dish out an exciting blend of furious arrangements, intelligent lyrics and sometimes some nice lounge piano ditties. Influences ranging from afro-beat, jazz, folk and DC Hardcore drift in and out with a wide variety of instruments providing for an eclectic listen. They seem to have two gears though, fast and slow, and rarely explore anything in between or at least these two gears in the same song. Songs like Sixteen Beats or You Can Hear The World From Menwith Hill, with their grass-roots folky humility, work far better than the more generic, guitar driven moments like What Jim Hears or Zeros And Ones. These give the album its pace and ferocity but also drag it into musical obscurity by pumping out a sound that is all too common.

O Fracas exhibit some artful ideas on this debut and the album definately gets more interesting as it progresses and as they inject their own turbulent personality into the music rather than following the well trodden indie path. Unfortunately this path shows no sign of ending or taking a turn as band after band in this country pass around the same sound and style between them, all under the guise of originality.

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15th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Ween

Shepherd's Bush Empire, London

May 8th, 2008

We have a lot to thank ATP for. Twice a year they ship over highly rated, under-appreciated (by us Brits at least) bands who could often not justify the air fare. Lucky for us, these bands often squeeze a few other dates in while they're in Europe - and fortunately Ween were no exception, making their first UK appearance since 2003. Billed as "An Evening with Ween", the band were scheduled to be on stage at 8pm - with no support, for a three hour set. As a longtime fan/part time believer in the cult of Ween, it was make or break time.

Shortly after 8, the lights dimmed and the crowd erupted. Shoeless and Geneless, Dean Ween took to the stage, before powering up the band with a beefed up version of Fiesta, from last year's La Cucaracha. Gene soon joined brother Dean on stage as they segued into Take Me Away - and the power and prescision of the band set things up for a night of fun, that was unfortunatley barely matched again.

Like a hilarious comedian who ruins his potentially flawless routine with constant fart jokes, the show pretty much played out like any Ween album - patchy as hell. Unfortunatley, a live show lacks the one essential item for making any Ween album bearable - the skip button. For every chunky verion of Bananas and Blow, I'll Be Your Johnny On The Spot or Voodoo Lady there was an over-extended labrious wander through many others from their vast catalogue. Sound problems didn't help, with Thin Lizzy-esque power anthem Gabrielle amongst many tracks drowned in the poor sound, which managed to muffle even the drums and treble.

Many of my own favourites were left out (where were Stay Forever, What Deaner Was Talkin' About, Did You See Me?, If You Could Save Yourself and It's Gonna Be A Long Night?), possibly because it turned out it wasn't such a long night after all - a mere two and a half hours - and if they'd cut out the brown noise that made up most of the show we could have been going home after around 45 minutes.

Criticisms aside, I certainly feel like I have the minority opinion here - with most of the packed out crowd having the time of their lives. Beer bust at the Empire! For me, the dream is over. At best they're like Zappa, at worst it's like watching a pub band rehearse their latest wacky Barbara Steisand cover - complete with National Anthem Guitar Solo. I have seen an alternate reality where Tenacious D are leading the world in musical experimenation and it scared me.

I feel like I've escaped from a cult and while I feel an occasional nostalgia for the fellow moonies I left behind, it sure feels good. For now.

Check out more photos over at our Flickr page.

Watch videos from the show at DrDamage73's YouTube page.

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13th May 2008 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Birds of Avalon

Bazaar Bazaar

Volcom

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

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

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

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24th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Tokyo Police Club

Elephant Shell

Saddle Creek

In 2006 I wrote the following about this Toronto bands debut EP:

"A Lesson In Crime has glimmers of hope and offers more than enough clues that this is a band that, given the space of a full length album, could produce something great."

Well here we are, a year and a half later and Tokyo Police Club's debut album is upon us, but unfortunately it too shows glimmers of hope that this band have something great in them. The space that I had hoped for in a full-length seems to have diluted the edge they possessed in 2006 making Elephant Shell - by no means a bad record but not the tour-de-force their EP had hinted at.

Musically it's pretty similar to the EP with driving guitars and a rapid-fire drum pace propelling the songs forward but Dave Monk's vocals seem to have been sand-blasted down to a smooth mediocrity that is really the source of this albums diluted sound. I know it sounds perverse to site this as the fault when in my earlier review I highlighted the songs that strayed away from the "Strokes-like" rasp of Monk's voice as being the most promising but even in these songs there was a trace of effects and gravel to make it an interesting sound. In Elephant Shell it barely changes from song to song regardless of the change up in pace, in fact it sounds the most comfortable on The Harrowing Adventures Of with its acoustic strum and low-key tempo.

It's a much bigger record though with the force of the guitars setting their sights on the soaring heights of bands like Interpol or Editors giving this sound an added weight and a maturity that definitely improves on their earlier work. The stop-start technique of this driving sonic backbone in songs like Graves and Sixties Remake forms the basis of most of the record with Monk's vocals slotting in after the guitars subside taking the pounding drum as the only accompaniment until they all join forces for the rousing chorus. It works well when some of the more successful elements of the EP are rejoined. Tessellate sees the band bring back the furious hand-claps and Your English Is Good kicks off with a shouting rabble intro and comes as close as any of the songs to the rasping grit that Monk showed earlier.

The 2006 EP had large doses of The Strokes and that has been dealt with here but in its place they seem to have adopted the generic sound of a hundred indie bands making up the numbers in todays crowded scene. This is unfortunate as put alongside some of those acts like Editors these four guys have way more to give. They aren't a one-trick, derivative waist of space like a lot of the stuff being rammed down our necks but they really need to find their voice if they want to be heard above todays indie din.

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17th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Operator Please

Yes Yes Vindictive

Australian pop-punkers Operator Please have been knocking around since 2005 after a successful victory in a battle of the bands competition. The comparison with Wyld Stallyns doesn't finish there however, as mid 90's California churned out dozens of Triple J friendly bands from this mould ...with little fanfare and some limited critical success.

The loud/quiet formula that is the band's weapon of choice is so well used that the Pixies even went so far as release a greatest hits by that name and Operator Please's aneamic powerhouse attempts do little to redefine the formula, other than the odd piano or violin here and there. Without the charismatic leadership of Gwen Stefani, or the powerhouse arrangements of the YYYs it's tough to reccomend these guys over some of the other hopefuls.

Last year's single Just A Song About Ping Pong is catchy enough for now, but doesn't have the legs to become a long-term classic. Two For My Seconds is an obvious single here, as the band attempts to slow it down a bit and show their angst with a No Doubt style Don't Speak type number. It's successful enough, but its main attraction is the break in the pace of the preceding tracks. 6/8 tries to stretch out the dominating formula with some success as the arrangement has a bit more stamina and builds up nicely to a big crescendo.

The band's energy no doubt translates well live, as they are nothing if not enthusiastic, but ultimately that's not enough to carry this album too far. Operator, Please? More like "Punker, please."

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17th Mar 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

School For Scoundrels

(dir. Todd Phillips)

The Weinstein Company

I wrote an extensive review for this on the back of an envelope while I was watching it a few months back.... but that was misplaced and is probably on it's way somewhere exotic by now.

In this Ealing comedy remake, loser Jon Heder signs up for confidence training at the mysterious School For Scoundrels. Teacher Billy Bob Thornton trains the boys in the ways of being cool, confident and generally picking up chicks - before setting his own sights on the object of Heder's affections.

Long story short: disappointing next to some of Billy Bob's better work, but not bad. The dude from Napolean Dynamite is pretty annoying in most contexts, and he's the main lead here - with Billy Bob more or less in a supporting role. As a bonus, Luis Guzman puts in his usual top-notch supporting role.

Once the actual competition between the two leads hots up things get a bit funnier, but it's a movie that's not quite sure where it's going.

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#CSF

7th Mar 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

White Hinterland

Phylactery Factory

Dead Oceans

White Hinterland is essentailly the work of one woman - Massachusetts based Casey Dienel. After a well recieved first album - Wind-Up Canary - Dienel has filled out the line-up of her band and returned with second album Phylactery Factory on the Dead Oceans label.

Dienel is from a singer-songwriter mould that has seen something of a resergence recently. We've seen this eclectic, quirky delivery from the likes of Taken By Trees, Feist, Emily Haines even Joanna Newsom, but it's hardly a new development. You could easily trace it back though the likes of Bjork or Stina Nordenstam and on to Laura Nyro, Joni Mitchell and beyond.

As is often the case with this style, Dienel's vocals do a seductive job of delivering their lines. There's a lot whispy talk of favourite trees, falling petals and old stone church's - but by her own admission the songs are rarely biographical and that distance seems to add a sense of emptiness to things that makes it a little hard to engage with.

Calliope works well, dropping the quirkiness and instead boiling down the best elements of Dienel's style to a more pure and simple sound - making the most of her voice to create an arresting track. The more jazz-orienteted sounds of brush drums, piano and double bass add some variation accross the album's incresingly familiar style and Napoleon At Waterloo offers a further attempt at shaking things up a bit, but it's too little too late.

It's not that the record doesn't get going, just more like it barely gets out of second gear and without the breathtaking originality of Joanna Newsom or the hook-laden catchiness of Feist, White Hinterland's efforts may unfortunatly blend away into the background.

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#NM

28th Feb 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Los Campesinos!

Hold On Now Youngster

Wichita Recorings

WIth a rousing battle cry of "1,2,3,4!", sprawling Cardiff 7-piece Los Campesinos! arrive on your speakers like a mini-bus full of students on trip up to a Hoxton art gallery.

The Ramones-esque names, wacky song titles and personality that the band seem to have in bounds will certainly go a long way to propel them into mass popularity, but their success comes from the punchy delivery of their call and response style - male counterpointing female, then teaming up for a rousing chorus. Obvious maybe, effective certainly.

While enthusiasm goes a long way to pasting over the cracks of the band's fairly limited range, their pocket book poetry and student theorising of This Is How You Spell "Haha Ha, We Destroyed The Hopes And Dreams Of A Generation Of Faux - Romantics" is a little hard too bear, and at times you might feel like your on a mini-bus trip up to and art gallery in Hoxton.

Comparisons to early Wedding Present or Arcade Fire seem a litlle misplaced, as Los Campesinos! lack the depth and musical breadth of either of those bands - at any stage of their careers. By far the longest song here, You! Me ! Dancing! shows some promise, trying to mix it up a bit, adding a slow-building intro which builds up nicely before reverting to the exisiting formula.

While it's hard not to get spent along in the boundless enthusiasm, there are very few specific tracks or highlights that can be pulled out here. It's all the same. All inoffensive. All fun.

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#NM

25th Feb 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Gary Numan + Tubeway Army

Replicas (2008 Tour Edition)

Beggars

There can be no denying that Are Friends Electric? is a slice of pop genius. A gigantic buzzsaw synth riff set against a tune that even your granny could hum, and enough oomph to put a smile on the face of rockers everywhere - this was a hook-laden pop formula that turned Numan into the star he'd always imagined himself to be. This, and two or three other notable tracks are the cornerstones of the album, and without those solid foundations Replicas would sound a bit weedy. Opening with Me, I Disconnect From You and also containing the Numan classic Down In The Park, Replicas doesn't maintain the consistent standard set by these twinkling gems. At times it sounds like Gaz was having a crack at being (pre-commercial) Human League, or even something a bit more art-punk like, say, Magazine. But it struggles to convince and sometimes comes across like pub-rock with synths plastered on.

And for die-hard fans (sorry, 'Numanoids') this could disappoint on a couple of levels. Billed as a "Redux" release, there has been some fairly efficient tidying up done. Maybe a bit too much. The original tracks were still driven by the sound of a band at work - real drums throughout, with guitar and bass guitar in strong evidence. The redux downplays this part of the mix, and much of the guitar work is quieter or even removed completely. Bafflingly, We Are So Fragile is missing - the B-side to Friends - which was included on the previous CD release of Replicas. Instead we get early versions of nearly every track, some of which sound like they've got a bit more life in them than the newer redux versions.

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#HarrisPilton

11th Feb 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Son Of Rambow

(dir Garth Jennings 2008)

Paramount Vantage

Journey back to the 80s in this good-natured film, a world filled with bleached highlights, dodgy pirate videos and French exchange students with asymmetrical T-shirts.

Sheltered Will (Bill Milner) isn’t allowed to watch TV at school because of his family’s strict religious views. Bad boy Lee Carter (Will Poulter) is constantly being kicked out of class. They meet in the hall outside their classrooms, where Lee bullies Will into helping him make a film to enter in Screentest (an 80s BBC film competition for kids). When it transpires that Will’s TV-less imagination has been on full throttle while he’s supposed to have been studying the bible, Lee knows he’s onto a winner, and their reworking of Rambo, Son Of Rambow, is born. The English countryside is soon filled with pint-sized Nam vets exploding things and generally battling the forces of evil.

There’s lots to enjoy here: the 80s details all feel pretty accurate, it’s affectionate, and does a good job of bringing the two outsiders together. But it never quite kicks into full throttle – there are lots of scenes, like the 6th form common room, or the Adam Buxton cameo (he shot the recent Radiohead online stuff with them, fact fans), which feel like the Hammer & Tongs team  just wanted to include them, without really thinking about their place in the film’s narrative; it’s a lot looser than it might have been.

That said, it’s always good to see a British film that avoids the costume drama/romcom track, and it’s certainly not a waste of time – more that ultimately it doesn't fully deliver on the concept's promise.

Like Be Kind Rewind, this is a film dedicated to the spirit of the VHS age, when you could stick a tape into a giant portable camera and lug it around while you filmed your adventures. But that’s almost the problem – it’s a film that talks about that moment when you first discover the power of cinema, rather than giving a new generation that moment for itself; nostalgia rather than first-hand excitement. Funny it’s coming out just before the new Rambo too.

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#chimp71

5th Feb 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Various Artists

Rough Trade Shops - Counter Culture 07

Counter Culture Records

In this new dawn of flagging record sales and mass closures of your favorite music shops it seemed a strange time for Rough Trade to expand its empire and open the impressive uber-shop that is Rough Trade East, but I guess if anyone can do it thy can and now that it has its own cafe at the front this new Counter Culture compilation is what you'd likely endure if you closed your office for a day and set up camp in the Rough Trade cafe. Needless to say it wouldn't all be what you were looking for. Having ditched the assistance of some of the major labels that aided the release of the previous Counter Culture series this one has been put together independently by the Rough Trade shops themselves. This is quite evident from the tracklist as some of the selections you just know are the choices of a minority nerd group that really doesn't give a monkeys if the customers don't like it, they're ignorant so why should they be trusted? But then there are some really big hitters that never fail to deliver.

Over the years I have often used these Rough Trade compilations as a way of discovering new musical territory previously untrodden by my delicate and sheltered ears. I first came across Sufjan Stevens on a Counter Culture CD and have looked forward to similar discoveries ever since. Though expertly compiled and a darn good listen throughout this outing unfortunately serves up little in the way of surprises. A quick glance at the tracklist will hint at some immediate stand out moments of last year like Battles' unrivaled and mighty Atlas or Of Montreal's avant-pop gem Gronlandic Edit. Pete And The Pirates provide some ramshackled indie-punk magic from their album Little Death with Come On Feet and Dan Deacon's d.i.y roadrunner-rave is perfectly expressed in The Crystal Cat. But at a glance I would have expected these to be some obvious high points and was slightly disappointed not to be proved wrong. There were exceptions however with Julian Cope and the dirty rock tornado of No Age pricking up my ears but the prize would have to go to Dan Le Sac Versus Scroobius Pip for Thou Shalt Always Kill. This is a razor-sharp pop-culture critique that providing you can keep up is a lesson to us all. Lessons like never to question Steven Fry or watch Hollyoaks are of course a given but the line, "Thou shalt not judge a book by its cover, thou shalt not judge Lethal Weapon by Danny Glover," is really something else.

So as the stand out song on this exceedingly mixed bag its wisdom casts a new light on the compilation itself. After being told repeatedly not set up bands as false idols and to think for yourselves you do start to look over these choices as just someone's opinion. But on a brighter note the whole thing comes impeccably presented in a 2 CD set with 20 page colour fold-out booklet and full sleeve notes and just serves to prove that the supposedly lifeless corpse of the record shop has some breath left in it after all.

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#BC

29th Jan 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Sole

Sole and the Skyrider Band

Anticon

Like a man coming up for air Sole's 4th album sees him spout an overwhelming torrent of words that have been kept quiet for so long. After his recent Mansbestfriend project where he managed to hold his tongue in favour of delicately crafted electronica the Anticon founder has gone and got himself a band and with their help he delivers an uncompromising piece of work and as a follow up to Poly.Sci.187 - released earlier this year - it proves there really is nothing this artist can't do.

This album is similar in intensity to records like 2003's Selling Live Water but The Skyrider Band provide valuable warmth with the live instrumentation. The beats are still fierce but don't crowd the ever flowing lyrical machine-gun like delivery. Sole's work is never less than impressive but can sometimes be way to suffocating as the layers of sound are piled to a dangerous height. This is addressed to a certain extent here and the result is a more spacious and textural record. But I wouldn't want to mislead you by implying that this is in any way an easy ride. Sole's rhymes take deep breaths and bore their way into your skull with a relentless perseverance, he has zero sense of humor  whether he spits over slow, plodding beats like One Egg Short Of The Omelette or frantic, stuttering glitch as on The Bones Of My Pets he means to burrow deep and he seems to do it all with a single breath.

By enlisting the help of The Skyrider Band, Sole is taking his sound to new and richer pastures. This is an intelligent piece of work that has thought of every detail. His relentless tone can sometimes prove hard going but with the addition of such varied music behind him there is much meat on the bones of this newly resurrected Sole.

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#HHG

17th Dec 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

John From Cincinnati (Season One)

(creator. David Milch)

HBO

The arrival of a mysterious, verbally challenged stranger in Southern California's Imperial Beach has a profound effect on a multi-generational surfing family and the residents around a motel where they are based. Mitch Yost is out of the game and his self-indulgent behavior finds himself arguing with his overbearing wife and floating off the ground, while former champion Butchie Yost battles his junkie addictions and tries to prevent prodigy surfer son Shaun Yost signing himself away to the corporate devil of Luke Perry's "Stinkweed" surf brand.

Following David Milch's winding up of Deadwood, expectation was high for this series and it got off to a good start. The production values of the show are fantastic, with the cinematography and setting perfectly capturing the so-cal beach culture in a way that is so easy to get wrong. The acting has also been universally good, with Ed O'Neill, Luiz Guzman, Luke Perry and young surfer Greyson Fletcher putting well cast and Brian Van Holt in particular putting in a great cold-turkey laden performance trough the entire series. Rebecca De Mornay came across as obnoxious and overbearing, which hasn't won me over to her but certainly worked for the troublesome Cissy Yost.

The near Shakespearean delivery made for interesting viewing, but while the show was in some way swell written the basic momentum of the story lets things down in the end. The mood and atmosphere were almost enough to keep things going but the feeling of hoping it would all be leading to some climactic event was never realised and while the finale almost met my hopes of reaching the legendary finale of Big Wednesday, the show was been left with nowhere to go and has not been renewed for a second season.

#TV
#CSF

3rd Dec 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Junior Boys

Last Exit

Domino

Not sure what really warrants the re-release of this 2004 album, other than the CD's inclusion of the US release's bonus tracks. Ontario's Junior Boys (not related to JBO) is essentially the work of two men - Jeremy Greenspan and Matt Didemus. Musically it fits rather nicely into a post-clubbing niche since it is born from a background of club music but never rises to anything approaching peak-time dancefloor sounds. Coming across rather like a caucasian Amp Fiddler, house and garage textures underpin the lyrics and soulful vocals for a laid-back sofa surfing experience. There's an emphasis on melody and chord structure which is often lacking in music with this kind of pedigree, and that should be applauded. Weirdly enough, I caught the odd whiff of Scritti Politti in my nostrils.

All the same, I was left with a fairly vague impression of the music. It's very laid-backness lets the whole thing drift by in a haze, like it never wishes to impose upon you too much. Anyway, they've done another album and EP since this, so I guess this must be an in-demand classic or something to go to all the trouble of a re-release.

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#HarrisPilton

27th Nov 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Yeasayer

All Hour Cymbals

Now We Are Free

In a fair and just world every part of me should be repelled by this New York 4 piece when the slightest scratch at the surface reveals such facts as: 2 of the founding members met in a barbershop quartet, the other one quit his rock opera to join the band, they describe themselves as World Music. If any one is still reading may I say that this is by no means a fair and just world and the Yeasayer's debut album is actually quite good.

All the facts stated above are certainly cringe worthy but can't be ignored and the bands success is very much due to these contributing factors rather than despite them. The fact that they hail from New York and from punk roots ultimately saves them from descending into the world music pit of obscurity that only spits out an act every now and again into the corner of Jools Holland's Later... stage. They construct complicated and chaotic arrangements using everything from tribal drums, cascading synths, soaring chanted harmonies and rhythmic guitars.

All Hour Cymbals took some time to make though the band have been playing for many years now. They feel their decision to release their work to the world has come in the wake of a resurgence in awareness of non-Strokes sounding music in New York and with bands like Beirut making serious waves worldwide the ground has never been richer. 2080 is the debut single and is the central song on the album with its Fleetwood Mac infused vocals. Their website claims "In 2080 the only thing that will save us from terror is enlightenment." This is a grand and admirable statement and sums up the concerns of the band.

Unfortunately the music sometimes fails to live up to such moral intentions. The mid way song No Need To Worry sends the album into confusing territory as it ambles along with no clear direction. This song alone starts to try our patience with the soaring, layered harmonies and it takes a while for the album to regain our focus. The ominous pound of Waiting For Wintertime goes some of the way but the record trails off into a murky concoction of indecipherable and repeated vocals and music that offers little in the way of direction.

This second half of the record is a shame as the first is so surprising. This band offer a refreshing blend of cultures but don't get the mix quite right first time. It is clear that they possess a rare commodity in indie music these days and that is open mindedness. It's hard to say where this band will take their sound next but they will be worth keeping an eye on.

#Music
#BC

21st Nov 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Psapp

Tiger, My Friend

Domino

This is a reissue of Psapp's 2004 debut and while it's a beautiful and thoughtfully crafted album the years and numerous TV appearances have been slightly less than kind. Originally released on the Leaf label I remember this the first time around and it slipped out the speakers like a cool drink of water. Galia Durant's effortless vocals breathe a delightful breeze over the airy percussion and glitchy electronica that guide us through this record. It evokes the washed out sunshine bliss of Stereolab with the meticulous attention to detail of Four Tet. The music skips around with playful ease while Durant's vocals sing of loneliness and disappointment. Calm Down is the best known of the bunch and is a joy from start to finish. It has the kind of rhythm and melody that if played in a shop would have customers subconsciously tapping and swaying to its seduction in a four minute consumer paradise bubble.

And that leads me on to this records misgivings. It seems a shame to even mention them as they are, in effect, out of their control - but it was someone's decision to use many of these songs on TV shows like Nip/Tuck and the OC and 3 years and a follow up album later and this debut is sounding dated and overfamiliar. There is something cringingly T-Mobile-like about this sound and as you strut around to its soundtrack the world around you takes on a sugary sweet pleasantness that just doesn't sit right. Their follow up record The Only Thing I Ever Wanted also does this re-release a disservice. It's a slightly more down-played sound and sombre in tone and while it has all the same glitchy texture and floaty vocals, it relies less on the playful element of the debut and therefore sounds like a mature, upgraded version.

It seems wrong to critisise this reissue on factors that can be largely put down to time. It is a sensitive piece of work that, at the time warmed many a heart - mine included - but it's magic has been diluted due to over-exposure and a slight dash of cynicism.

#Music
#BC

18th Nov 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Castanets

In The Vines

Asthmatic Kitty

The follow up to 2005's First Light's Freeze is a desolate walk through the fear ridden caverns of Ray Raposa's thoughts. Based on a Hindu fable about being trapped in an inescapable fate, with death and the limitations of our physical lives closing in from all corners In The Vines is a claustrophobic experience yet strangely rewarding.

The claustrophobia comes from Raposa's intimate delivery. Castanets is pretty much a solo project but various session guests are drafted in. Despite this it is Raposa who dominates this sound with his hard-edged voice spinning sinister tales with gothic doom and paranoia. Musically it's about as sparse as the front cover might suggest. The two fragile stalks stand alone in a murky nothingness conjuring perfectly the feeling of this music. Raposa has always led us down an unnerving back alley but In The Vines is a journey where the end is predetermined and as he sings on the opening Rain Will Come "So it's going to be sad and it's going to be long."

But there are moments of beauty to the light the way here like the floaty guitar work on The Night Is When You Can Not See that builds to an ever so slight crescendo. There is quite often harmony vocals that suggest that we've got friends somewhere nearby which really serves as a comfort when feeling helplessly through Raposa's all-encompassing dark.

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#BC

7th Nov 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Cinderella Man

(dir. Ron Howard)

Washed up fighter James W. Braddock is struggling to keep his family together during the Great Depression, but gets an unlikely shot at the World Title.

Seemingly unsure of whether it wants to be Raging Bull or Rocky, the film's aesthetic lifts heavily, but lacks the punch of the former - while the predictable underdog tale lacks the heart of the latter. Russell Crowe's performance as a hard working honest guy might technically be on the money, but the character is lacking in motivation or passion, making for a pretty flat film.

It seems like everybody involved felt like they were in sure-fire Oscar country here, and Paul Giacametti's performance in particular feels like it was sent in by telegram. He's badly cast as a young-looking training 'veteran' and there's no depth to his character - especially for a role that's usually set to 'powerhouse' (Clint and Morgan Freeman in Million Dollar Baby, Burgess Meredith in Rocky, Joe Pesci in Raging Bull). The script holds few surprises too - the bell rings in the nick of time a couple of times, the dishonest opponent gets the odd punch in after the bell, but unlike the aforementioned Million Dollar Baby, there's little doubt how it's going to end.

The production values and art direction are big and expensive, but when the dust settles all we are left with is a long solid, hard working dust bowl of a movie, not dissimilar to that other dull, depression sports drama - Sea Biscuit.

The old Halliwell's Guide would probably say *.

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#CSF

17th Oct 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Beirut

The Flying Club Cup

4AD

Beirut’s Gulag Orkestar was a critical success that slowly gained popularity by word of mouth. Zach Condon’s first album was, as is often noted, recorded at his parents house when he was all of nineteen. Beirut is no longer a one man band - he has since collected a group of musicians to tour and record, first the Lon Gisland EP and now the new album - The Flying Club Cup.

The first album featured no guitars. Violins, trumpets, piano and ukulele were used to produce a traditional Balkan sound. It was Zach’s melancholic, sombre singing which gave Beirut an added sophistication, making the East European sound more digestible to the average listener.

The Flying Club Cup is very much more of the same, which for me is the problem.  Opening song A Call To Arms is very reminiscent of Black's Wonderful Life. The comparison is not an insult or a compliment but does represent the reflective mood of the song and the album as a whole. It is the continuation of this tone throughout that frustrates me. Zach Condon's voice does not have enough expression to allow distinction or variation to make many of the thirteen tracks memorable. The Penalty is the exception, with a lovely accordion backing a restrained and expressive performance. This allows the music to sound complete and not a sullen teenage boy singing with his dad’s band. The Flying Club Cup never picks up from this point and continues to slowly deflate by the end.

The only time I can fully appreciate Beirut is when I listen to one or maybe two songs consecutively. I also struggled to hear the French influence (culture, history, fashion) which The Flying Club Cup is supposedly inspired by. This could be one album too many from Beirut if they have to state progression rather than been able to expand on their sound. If I were reviewing a single (with a b side) there would be more praise, but maybe in time (and as I grow old) my opinion will change.

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#R.Hammerstein

8th Oct 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Kingdom

(dir. Peter Berg)

Serviceable action thriller with FBI agents Jamie Foxx, Jennifer Garner, Jason Bateman and Chris Cooper finding an excuse to head over to Saudi Arabia to investigate a terrorist attack on a US expat compound.

Starts out with a fairly useful graphic zip through the last 100-odd years of Saudi history: desert, colonial rule, independance, oil, Bin Laden etc. Then we're hit with some cheating terrorists mowing down US citizens playing baseball in their suburban enclave inside "the Kingdom". Our agents know some of the US agents on the ground who get hit - this time it's personal and they're so not going to take "no, that would spark an international incident if we let more official US personnel investigate a crime on Arab soil" for an answer.

From then on, it's pretty much CSI: Arabia, as the quartet use their novel American concepts like "evidence" and "clues" to crack the case, helping out a friendly Saudi investigator along the way. He likes the Hulk and the Six Million $ Man too, so he's OK.

Been catching up on some Arrested Development reruns recently, so it was hard not to find everything Jason Bateman says hilarious, but other than that, the four leads were convincing enough - bantering away, dealing w US and Saudi red tape with good old fashioned straight talking and not being afraid to bend the rules a little when necessary. Good support from Danny Huston and the mighty Jeremy "Ari" Piven too, and there's a little cameo from director Peter Berg at the FBI briefing early on.

All feels a bit superficial ultimately, as if the mere fact of launching some Feds into a topical powderkeg is enough to make some kind of important message about the state of international politics/terrorism/the global interdependency on oil etc etc.

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#chimp71

7th Oct 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Takeovers

Bad Football

Off Records

The second album from The Takeovers might suggest that they were the most successful of Robert Pollard's 2006 side-projects (see reviews: 1,2,3) ...but a quick look at the team sheet suggests that nothing has settled down, as there have been a few additions to the squad since then. As well as Turn To Red's Pollard, Slusarenko (GBV) and Dan Peters (Mudhoney), Bad Football enlists super-subs Stephen Malkmus (Pavement), Tad Doyle (Tad) and John Moen (The Decemberists) to pad out the squad.

Malkmus lends his eccentric stunt guitar to opener You're At It, which starts things off in the right direction, with it's lolloping guitars and pounding drums. The album cover is a great Pollard collage and there are plenty of classics song titles here (Father's Favorite Temperature, The Jester Of Helpmeat), although not necessarily corresponding to the best tracks (I Can See My Dog, My Will).

The focussing of Pollard's attention on The Takeovers might suggest a more purposeful record than Turn To Red, but other than the extended team sheet their is no evidence that any more effort went into either the writing or recording of the album. There are definitely a couple more developed songs here, but in typical post-GBV Pollard style it has the sound of a fun side-project, rather than the main event.

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#CSF

13th Sep 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Jeffrey Lewis

12 Crass Songs

It’s been a good week for record label PR and a bad one for Chimp research, following from Muxloe’s Young Marble Giants admission, I had penned the following review based upon the first few listens of Jeffrey Lewis’ 12 Crass Songs:

Jeffrey Lewis began life as a beatnik, or at least his parents were, a lifestyle choice that deemed comic books and blues records more suitable entertainment than that old Hippy’s foe: Television. Lewis took that early absence in his life personally it seems, as TV is one of several targets in the sights of his nasally-voiced shotgun on new album 12 Crass Songs. 

Before becoming a musician and a member of New York’s anti-folk movement (the power and anger of punk via acoustic guitar) Lewis drew (aha) on his upbringing to become an underground comic book artist. The sparse/direct style of comic books runs through 12 Crass Songs; it’s a wall-to-wall bunch of blunt, angry self-effacement - delivered like a crude black and white sketch through minimal music and Lewis’ talking/singing.

12 Crass Songs doesn’t let up. Nothing is spared as various tones of grey are added to the bleak portrait of the western world today. The human race is the first in the firing line on End Result “I’m part of the race that kills for possessions, part of the race that’s wiping itself out” On I Ain’t Thick, Lewis has his daggers drawn for that old villain 'The Man' who uses TV/Sarah Jessica Parker, consumerism and even history books, to keep the masses downtrodden, but Lewis ain’t having that y’all.

Systematic Death plays out like a comic book story, etching a sketch of Mr and Mrs Average America doomed to a life of misery, oppression and downright idiocy under the SYSTEM SYSTEM SYSTEM!

If he’s pissed at Sarah Jessica Parker, then imagine the ire Lewis reserves for Bush (I bet even Sarah Jessica Parker is pissed at him) and Mr. President’s policies, particularly his idea of defence, come under the penlike scalpel of Lewis. Even punk itself isn’t safe. Punk is Dead laments that the movement that once inspired Lewis and his contempories sold itself out “Punk is Dead. Punk is Dead. Just another cheap product for the consumer’s head”.

I would disagree however, what is punk other than getting a personal message out there by the most direct means possible (or is that DHL? (Corporate Fascists)). It’s easy to roll the eyes at another New York artist bitching about conspiracies and the like, but that’s exactly the fuel that feeds 12 Crass Songs. The world in 2007 is a mixed-up place of complacency and terror, artists that stick their head out, stare you in the eyes and point that out should be saluted. However, it surely wouldn’t detract from the message to add a splash of colour now and again, if only musically….

Then, like a tardy Colombo, I discovered that I had overlooked a vital piece of evidence; 12 Crass Songs is exactly that; 12 cover versions from late 70s/Early 80s English Anarchists Crass.  It’s depressing to think that 30 year old messages of protest and opposition still ring true and clear today, and strangely all of my thoughts were still valid - even though I refuse to believe that Sarah Jessica Parker was a key instrument in Thatcher’s oppression of Britain’s working classes.

#Music
#chimpovich

3rd Sep 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Devastations

Yes, U

Beggars

Devastations are three Berlin based Australians whose last album, “Coal”, was well received far and wide. Now they’re back with their third full length offering - “YES, U”.
 
The album is a sparse, sinister affair full of dark corners and bad moods. Vocalist/bassist Conrad Standish, guitarist/vocalist Tom Carlyon, and drummer Hugo Cran prove skilful in building up moody and broody songs, all the while maintaining an intensity without it ever boiling over – I refer the reader to exhibits a and b: “The Saddest Sound” and “The Pest”.
 
The best bits are when they layer on feedback and white noise over their slow beats and drawled vocals - such as on ‘Oh My, Oh Me’ and ‘Misericordia’. However, I’ll have to confess that I lost interest on a couple of numbers when they take us back to the 80s with some slowed down bontempi organ beats (‘Black Ice’ and ‘As Sparks Fly Upwards’).
 
There are obvious comparisons that can be made with Nick Cave, which is no bad thing. I saw a live performance from the big man a couple years back. He blew me away with a depth and intensity that’s never seemed captured on the recordings I’ve heard. I’ve a feeling the same might be said for the Devastations.
 
While not suited to all moods or occasions (I’m thinking family parties, sunny days or gittin’ it on with a lover), on the whole this is a good album that’s a bit of a ‘grower’ (if you know what I mean, which I’m sure you all do).

#Music
#Locochimpo

23rd Aug 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

16 Blocks

(dir. Richard Donner)

A cop with a shady past does everything it takes to get a witness in a police corruption case through 16 blocks to the courthouse, as a police force littered with corrupt officers try to stop them both.

Not bad by-the-numbers Bruce WIllis actioner, somewhat revolutionary for it's re-vitalisation of the freeze-frame ending.

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#CSF

8th Aug 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Transformers

(dir.Michael Bay)

Dreamworks

After their planet is ravaged by civil war, two warring factions of shape-shifting robots arrive on earth in search of a digital rubik's-cube gizmo with the power to turn ordinary electrical appliances into all consuming monster robots. The Decepticons are led by the evil Megatron, who was discovered frozen in the ice by troubled geeky teen Shia La Beouf's grandfather. Luckily he's just bought a new car that turns out to be one of the friendly Autobots who are here to save us - led by the articulated lorry-esque Optimus Prime.

As a kid you would probably shit bricks at how cool the robots are in this movie, but as an adult it's like watching a 120 minute trailer that shows all the best bits. An experience not too dissimilar to lying down on a motorway being run over constantly. The premise is thinner than Highlander II, with very little explanation for why the robots can assume some shapes they like, but don't bother at other times - when being a steam roller might be more useful than being a cool little dune-buggy.

Hollywood heavyweight/lifecoach Michael Bay adds his usual flair, taking his cue from the George Lucas school of film making - where you can't see the CGI because it's all CGI, and it works pretty seamlessly. There are some great sequences and effects - notably the helicopter-bot assassin that attacks the US Army a couple of times in an attempt to steal their bandwidth or something.

It's a fun ride, so don't take my cynical opinion on it all. I was always more of a Lego fan.

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#CSF

25th Jun 2007 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Taken by Trees

Open Field

Rough Trade

After serving for 11 years as the voice of Swedish indie popsters The Concretes - as well as contributing unmistakable vocals to last years Young Folks single from Peter, Bjorn & John - Victoria Bergsman decided to leave The Concretes behind to go solo, taking her love of trees to conjure up the name Taken By Trees.

The acoustic guitar and single drum of Tell Me set the pace for the album, which is minimal melodic pop. Like a Scandinavian Camera Obscura, or a regular Stina Nordenstam, the album is built almost entirely around Victoria's attractive voice. There's not much suggestion of depth to the lyrics, just breezy pop that ambles along without causing any offense. Songs are often story-telling tales in the third person, with some minimal instrumental tracks making nice use of pipes and atmospheric effects. Lost And Found sounds like an ideal choice for a single, with the lovesick delivery sounding more than a little like fellow Swedes The Cardigans.

It's all pleasant enough, but lacking the heart or emotion to make it powerful. It ends up as nothing more than pleasant pop that provides nothing new, and you may feel like you have heard it all before.

The back up vocals of Hours Pass Like Centurys beef things up a bit, and the effects and xylophone of Ceder Trees starts to offer something a little different, but it's not really enough and is definitely a case of too little too late. It's all at the same level and is very conventionally structured, with verse / chorus / verse all the way through - but that's pop I guess. It's all pretty much reliant on you falling for her sexy voice and if you just go with the flow that might well be enough.

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24th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Editors

An End Has A Start

Sony BMG

If my record collection was a sinking ship (which before the days of promo cd's and hooky downloads it was) this new album by Editors would be one of the first to go overboard. That's not to say it's bad, it's just totally unnecessary if you have their excellent debut. Very little progress has been made from their soaring musical arrangements that on The Back Room combined to great effect with Tom Smith's baritone strength as frontman.

It's the same story here but the highs are nowhere near as lofty. It's a shame because in their own right these are really solid songs. The title track is a driving tour de force but if you've got All Sparks you don't need it. Bones is the slow, rumbling track that gently builds to a powerful climax but then so did The Back Room's Fall and Camera.

Smith's voice has a booming depth that commands real power but his band provide a sound that we hear all too much these days. The restraint he showed on The Back Room was the source of the tension that held it all together but it's just a bit tiresome here and I just wish he'd let rip now and again. He comes close on The Racing Rats but still frustratingly manages to keep it together. Songs like this and Escape The Nest make the best bids for the peak but by taking the same rout as their predecessors they will be forever shackled.

I like this band, they swim in the same pool as the other NME-loving new comers but don't subscribe to all the pretension that comes with such company. I like the way they're called Editors and not The Editors, I really liked The Back Room and all the b-sides that came with it and really wanted to like this. I was primed and ready, I was an easy target, but they missed, and I'm sure they couldn't give a monkey's that they missed me but I do and that's all that counts.

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#BC

21st Jun 2007 - 5 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Cut City

Exit Decades

Gold Standard Labora

Many people may have come across this record while searching the web for any news of Interpol's next move. Whether intentionally or not, Sweden's Cut City had their debut leaked under the name Interpol - Mammoth and the clever thing about this genius piece of marketing and internet manipulation is that once you've downloaded this it would probably take the average casual Interpol fan a few plays to realise that it isn't the New York wonder boys after all, but a band who sound exactly like them in nearly every way. This overwhelming similarity would normally turn me right off but the cunning strategy and the fact that it's a pretty good listen have endeared this beautiful pastiche to my ears.

With heavy drums, chiming guitars and Max J Hansson's monotone vocals songs like opener Like Ashes and Anticipation have all the driving force and deep penetration of the myriad of influences that present themselves with every note. You can't help thinking through albums like this how similar the whole retro music trend is to chinese whispers. Interpol were clearly influenced by Joy Division and while Cut City give more than just a passing nod to the Factory trailblazers it's Interpol from whom most of their sound has developed. So somewhere along this chain of inspiration the sound is diluted. Intepol's Paul Banks  is no where near as intense a vocalist as Ian Curtis and here we see Hansson to be a diluted version of Banks.

But if the forthcoming Interpol album sucks, and now that the new Editors album does suck, Exit Decades will more than fill the gap in your Joy Divisionesq, barritone post-punk slot and no record collection is complete these days without such a slot.

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#BC

19th Jun 2007 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Stills

Without Feathers

Drowned In Sound Recordings

The Stills, who broke on the scene back in 2003 with the lauded ‘Logic Will Break Your Heart’, are from Montreal and having been spoiled rotten on good Canadian bands of late I expected much from this lot. As a difficult second album, “Without Feathers” was probably made all the more tricky by one of the main men jumping ship due to ‘musical reasons’. Not to be defeated, the drummer, Dave Hamelin, stepped up to write the songs, sing the songs and traded the skins for strings to play the songs on guitar (which looks a little bit big for him on the ‘destroyer’ video).

‘In the beginning’ appropriately starts things off as a general introduction to the type of indie-rock and lyrical themes (heartbreak and headaches) we can expect on the rest of the album. This is followed swiftly by ‘Destroyer’ a jolly sounding track with a driving beat and an uplifting horn section which backs Hamelin as he chirps on about how much he hates someone and how they better pipe down as he’s coming to kick their sorry ass. ‘Helicopters’ is another cracking little tune which has them sounding as close to the Doves as one could get without a lawsuit. 

‘The house we live in’ is a nice mellow little number as he tries to persuade his special lady friend not to jump ship, but from then on in the songs never really hit the spot. It feels like they lose their way a bit and compensate for this by over egging it on the keys and horns. I would dedicate a whole paragraph to how ‘Retour A Vega’ really got my goat, but they’re from Quebec so I can forgive them for singing in French and simply mention it in passing.

The influence of the various members of Broken Social Scene who got asked to help out on a few tracks is evident throughout the album, but the ‘scene’ they are not. While there’s enough here to indicate they’ve the potential to match their peers in the future, a couple too many tracks seem like a radio friendly mixture of said good Canadian bands and middle of the road British indie pop bands (I’m thinking Snow Patrol). If it was an EP of the first four tracks then I’d love it, but as I say, maybe I’ve been spoilt and have gotten greedy.

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#Locochimpo

12th Jun 2007 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Pissed Jeans

Hope For Men

Sub Pop

Pissed Jeans is the bare chested alter ego of white collar worker Matt Korvette, who sheds the skin of his day job in Allentown (known to me only through the Billy Joel track I'm afraid) and strips off to the waist to lead his band through sweaty all-ages punk shows.

With this second album, the band have been signed up to Sub Pop - and you probably couldn't imagine a better home (er, except maybe SST or Dischord). In these days of Zach Braff co-opting the Sub Pop rosta for his feel-good movies, it's good to hear a band throwing down the kind of sludge rock sound that got the label started.

People Person could not be a more ironic title for the album opener - a relatively fast punk number that has a similar effect to being mugged. With the brutal vocal force of Black Flag-era Rollins, vocalist Matt Korvette's lyrics are hard to pin down for sure, but it's either "I am a people person", or "I'm not a people person". I'm guessing it's the latter as Pissed Jeans are definitely not here to be your friend, but if you relax and go with the flow you might just have some fun.

The album generally works at a slower, pounding pace than the opener - whether its the heavy swing of A Bad Wind or the feedback drenched atmosphere of The Jogger. Things almost seem like they might break-out of the weight of this album on the amusing anecdote I’ve Still Got You (Ice Cream) or drum led Caught Licking Leather, but fear not. Much less post-modern sounding than recent punk-sludge from the likes of The Bronx, this is coming from the genuine roots of lifelong garage banders - who are clearly fans of Black Flag or sick-coloured vinyl specialists Flipper.

If you can withstand the bettering your ears will take, you will see through the wall of noise and expose the story-telling side of this album, stretching out tales of white collar workers in the "Straight World". It's a tall order that will certainly not be to many people's tastes - but for many pre-Nirvana post-punkers it will be a breath of fresh air.

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#CSF

11th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Maccabees

Colour It In

Polydor

“Latchmere’s got a Wave Machine”. 

Not only a statement of fact, but possibly the most brilliantly inane lyric of the summer and most definitely the only lyric in honour of the same South London sports centre where members of the Chimpomatic staff regularly re-write the 5-aside football rule book.

A song about a sports centre.  And quite openly too: “Speedos speed by. Remember to stay in your lanes. No Heavy Petting.” just a sample of singer Orlando Weeks’ poetry on track 4 (Latchmere) from Colour It In, the debut album from this Clapham 5 piece (now relocated to Brighton).

The Maccabees cast a pretty narrow net lyrically; focusing on that period of late teens/early 20s (unsurprising considering they weigh in at an average age of 21) which with hindsight are glorious and carefree, but at the time can be overcast with trivial doubts and worries.  Colour It In captures the energy, exuberance and innocence of this time, but is not a naïve album. 

Whilst the hefty chip on my shoulder makes me naturally cautious of a band made up of an Orlando, Felix, Hugo, Rupert and a Robert Dylan Thomas, I’m a sucker for a dose of that post-Strokes, tight guitared-pop and Colour It In’s sheer enthusiasm chipped away at my cynicism after a couple of listens.  They pad tracks 3 through 7 with the stronger single-ish songs All In Your Rows, Latchmere, About Your Dress (see a video clip here) and Precious Time -  all of which got my feet tapping, so god knows how the less world-weary kids are keeping still, whilst the supporting songs hold their own and keep up the vibe.

The Maccabees may well go down the Razorlight route of wankerworm or they might dissapear without trace, but there is no denying that Colour It In is a confident and enjoyable debut, that will most likely be unavoidable this summer.  It may not last the test of time, but like any good summer romance it’s the excitement of the now that matters. If you are too old to get to a wave machine for your summer kicks; a few beers, a spot of sun and Colour It In might just do the trick.

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#chimpovich

27th Apr 2007 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Kissaway Trail

The Kissaway Trail

Bella Union

It is a phenomenon of the music business that for every great band they discover music lovers have to suffer a wave of mediocrity trailing in their hero's wake. For every Stone Roses there is a Flowered Up, for every Oasis there follows a Northern Uproar, for every Blur there is a Menswear swimming in the slipstream, for every Nirvana a Stone Temple Pilots, for every Kylie in the spotlight there lurks a Lisa Scott Lee in the shadows…. you get the picture. Is it that these bands strive to replicate a formula that is proven to bring success and acclaim or just that record companies actively seek out sound-a-likes of the big buzz band of the moment? I’m not sure, but we can all recall the process; the NME big up this new band and mates pass on a copy of the album like pushers of illegal substances. ‘Go on, you loved Nirvana/Oasis so you’ll definitely love these lot, go on give it a try, go on.’ You’re initially willing to believe that these new lot will be the bona fide real deal before the excitement of the scene dies down and time confirms that they are little more than cheap tribute acts. To the pantheon of such acts can now be added the name of the Danish group The Kissaway Trail. This is a band that will be pushed to you on the basis that ‘if you loved Arcade Fire, you’ll love this lot, go on give it a try, go on….’

Except here’s the thing, The Kissaway Trail are not Arcade Fire. That’s all well and dandy of course, lots of good acts aren’t but the problem lies in the fact that though they may sound similar to the Canadian maestros of the moment, the album they’ve produced is just not particularly good. The Kissaway Trail certainly check all the right boxes. Urgent percussion, tick. Lush strings, tick. Soaring choruses, tick. But they don’t work together in a way that one would expect. It is like mixing ingredients in a bowl and expecting to pull a nicely risen wholemeal farmhouse loaf from the oven only to find that it is actually white Nan bread. Maybe for a debut album comparisons with established acts are harsh but as the Kissaway Trail are trading on them it is only fair to make a few. Tracy with its premature climax lacks the stamina and passion of Arcade Fire, Smother+Evil=Hurt fails to reach the dizzying heights of euphoria the Polyphonic Spree are tuned into and La La Song could do with an extra sprinkling of the Flaming Lips genuine, rather than expedient, eccentricity. This collection of songs all feels just a little too contrived and frankly boring.

Word is that the Kissaway Trail rock on stage, and they certainly have a few tricks up their sleeve offering some promise of a bright future if only they can find their own distinct sound. They certainly aren’t as lame as Menswear or desperate as Lisa Scott Lee but though the NME might currently tell you differently the fear remains that the Kissaway Trail could end up being remembered in the same bracket as Northern Uproar, Stone Temple Pilots and the like.

#Music
#Muxloe

27th Apr 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

CocoRosie

The Adventures Of Ghosthorse And Stillborn

Touch & Go

Whoever earns a living thinking up new names to describe indescribable music leads a very sad and futile existence indeed. Sisters Bianca and Sierra Cassidy of CocoRosie have been victims of this in recent years being absorbed by the so called 'freak folk' genre. Certainly many that inhabit this ever growing genre seem to more than fit the 'freak' bill but since their mesmerizing debut La Maison De Mon Reve CocoRosie have made music so unaware of any genre that they have managed to transcend all this silliness. They seemed to create in a total artistic vacuum shutting themselves off from everything and the result was a listening experience like no other. They enticed you into their mystical world with sounds and voices so distant and foreign that it was like a dream experience. Well, having reveled in this dream undisturbed for two albums, The Adventures Of Ghosthorse And Stillborn may just be the wake-up call I was dreading.

This album is disappointing for all the reasons the first two were so unique. As mentioned earlier, their debut was was like no other - then the follow up Noah's Ark seemed to polish this rough diamond, pulling into focus all the experimentation of its predecessor. With this album they seem way too aware of themselves and the genre they have been allocated. Their beauty has always been their ability to embrace all music - from hip hop to opera to soul - but embrace it unknowingly and innocently. The Adventures of... seems to pull out all these influences and make features of them.

Noah's Ark started off with the human beatbox structured K-hole, but the vocals were delicate and subtle, as was the backing music. Rainbowarriors starts this 3rd record off with a similar idea, but the two songs couldn't be further apart. Here the vocals are blundering and obvious and the whole thing treads dangerously near to parody. This is, unfortunately, the story of the album. Where Bianca's impish squeak was so other-worldly, it has now become grating and Sierra's classically trained voice is often used with no subtlety at all.

But as I hate to be over critical I must say that it's not all bad. When they keep it simple like on Sunshine their beauty returns. Houses' ghostly piano and Sierra's soaring vocals create deep caverns of sound that contrast beautifully. The delicate homemade percussion on other songs like Raphael - who's narrative is sung with such delicate sadness - is quite moving.

Having been totally engulfed in their magical spell from the word go and then been dazzled by the live show, I was more than ready to love this album. CocoRosie are one of the most original outfits to emerge in the last 3 years and they make music the way all art should be made, however once this complete and unassuming entity is released into the world it is in danger of being dispersed. The Adventures Of Ghosthorse And Stillborn shows a crack in CocoRosie's dreamscape and the world is seeping in.

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#BC

20th Apr 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Fucking Champs

VI

Drag City

Believe it or not, there are downsides to being a Chimpomatic reviewer. The parties, premieres and indecent proposals all pale into significance when deadline day looms and the Alpha Males at Chimp HQ start bearing teeth. To stay in favour, it is necessary to listen to albums at inappropriate times and locations. For example; The Fucking Champs. As you may have guessed, they don’t do subtle. They don’t do singers either.  I guess they believe that singers are for pussies and most definitely not for Fucking Champs.  Besides, who needs words when you have a couple of Jock electric guitars beating the shit out of all-comers like a Double Dragon Tag-team (ably assisted by their sidekick Powerdrummerdude).

Yes, there is a time and a place for the Champs and it’s not on a crowded commuter train at 8.30 in the morning (professional courtesy prevents me from playing anything under maximum volume) or at 11.30am whilst trying to see off a particular enthusiastic hangover. No. The Fucking Champs are most definitely a band for the night before - this is music for movie double acts: Bill and Ted. Wayne and Garth. For all the dudes that like to R.O.F’ing.K!

I feel bad about rating this; like the old codger telling those darned kids to turn the party down AGAIN. But those leading chimps are showing signs of chest-beating with all these recent stars flying round and it is pretty one-dimensional (unless you count the Brian May-esque guitar duet of Abide with Me as another dimension) with its (party) Time and (ice cold and refreshing) Place.

But hey. Ratings are probably for pussies too. The Fucking Champs are here to take over the world, so you might as well shotgun a brewski and join ‘em.

#Music
#chimpovich

8th Apr 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

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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#UncleG

25th Mar 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Hotel Alexis

Goliath, I'm On Your Side

Broken Sparrow Records

Its little wonder that Hotel Alexis declare in the title of their second album that they are on the side of Goliath. The impression is that they've staked their money on the odds on favourite, preferring the safe option and letting someone else fight their battles for them. They'd be wise to take a leaf from David's book by showing just a little more of the biblical underdog's courage, conviction and cunning.

Singer/songwriter Sidney Alexis wears his influences on his musical sleeves but in trying to emulate his heroes he fails to find his own voice. It takes more than slide guitar to sound like Americana idols Sparklehorse. A 19 minute meandering drone doesn't confer Velvet Underground status. And a sense of melancholy needs to be matched by a confessional intimacy to leave an impression like Leonard Cohen, or even Bright Eyes.

All in all it's a great shame as if Hotel Alexis revealed more of themselves rather than just hinting at what's catalogued in their Itunes library they could really be something. The textured arrangements of brushed snares and folksy picking combining with studio experimentation occasionally pays lush and atmospheric dividends. The deserted funfair feel of 'Our Good Captain' is intriguing while 'The Devil knows my handle' has a 'down home' ambience masking a bleaker message but these are fleeting glances at what could have been.

At 19 minutes long 'Hummingbird' is the centre piece of this album recalling a long journey where the scenery is pleasant, as is the company, but you just don't seem to arrive anywhere. Its certainly not a road to hell but neither is it a magical mystery tour. If only they'd been brave, or curious, enough to veer off the beaten track.

On 'I'll arrange for you to fall' Alexis asks “what went wrong, what went right?” Actually referring to a name change he could have been asking for judgement on this album. The answer would have to be a bemused shrug of the shoulders. If they grow some balls like David then Hotel Alexis could be onto a winner.

#Music
#Muxloe

15th Mar 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Clark

Ted EP

Warp Records

Warp’s press release would have you believe this latest offering from Clark is “astonishing, spectacular, and unpredictable", which it arguably is - though the 6 fairly short tracks left me slightly disappointed and wanting more. Alongside this audio release is apparently a ¨sinisterly engrossing¨ video, but without having the privilege of seeing it I felt I was only getting half of the experience (You can now see it here).  The tracks are cleverly put together with a myriad of beautiful richly textured sounds. The EP has a very narrative feel but really does sound like the soundtrack to a film. The stand out track is Bibio’s remix of title track Ted, reminiscent of the otherworldly Durutti Column - easy to see why Boards of Canada are amongst his fans.

I would probably only add this to my collection if I had the vdu on all the time when I played music for the full experience, if I owned a really trendy clothes shop that I could play it in, or was an Elevator DJ.

Clark will be embarking on a grand UK and European tour between February and April 07 and if Warp sends me some tickets for this I would gladly go as I think the whole show opposed to just the audio would be all the things that the press release says this EP should have been.

#Music
#AH

13th Mar 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Harmful

7

Kool Arrow

I’ve got a theory about bands like Germany’s Harmful.  Bands that aren’t afraid to properly ROCK - nice fat dirty riffs that recall early 90s greats Quicksand and Helmet - but have a singer dude with a nice-voice, telling us about how nasty the world can be.  I imagine the band compliantly rocking out in practice and the singer really ‘feeling’ it, then once he goes off to meet his superior girlfriend or get his hair done, the rest of the band crack open the smokes and fire up the beer and produce some of the awesomest music possible. 

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#chimpovich

27th Feb 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet