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You Say Party! We Say Die!
Lose All Time
Fierce Panda
With a catchy band name straight out of the school of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah this Vancouver 5 piece release their follow up to last years Hit The Floor. Its noisy, frenzied post-punk-disco that should tick all the right boxes with the NME demographic, but you'd be wise not to let that put you off. This sound may be running very much according to the current course of trend but it's got enough grit and ugliness to keep it this side of tired.
Vocalist Becky Ninkovic is the main reason why this band recall certain elements of The Yeah Yeah Yeah's with often shrieked lyrics being delivered over hard hitting and gloriously spiky guitars. Appearing like they're making it up as they go along this band have a refreshingly light touch that adds to the rawness of their sound. Just as Karen O and crew have polished their act up in recent times the same is probably due for this lot but as it hasn't done The Yeah Yeah Yeah's any harm this album is proof that YSPWSD can handle any growth that comes their way.
1st Jul 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
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Hollywood Homicide
Ron Shelton
Two cops, more interested in pursuing other careers, search for the killer after a nightclub murder. Harrison Ford makes one movie per year these days making this choice inexplicable. It really is that bad..
1st Jul 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
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Souvaris
A Hat
Gringo
In a music scene overrun with convoluted titles such You Say Clap Your Hands We Say Yeah Yeah Yeah's (is that right?) it's a joy to review this album called A Hat. It would be such a shame if it's brief title was the only reason this record was a joy to review and thankfully it isn't. Following on from their 2005 album I Felt Nothing At All, A Hat is a smoldering powerhouse of instrumental muscle very much in the same vein as Tortoise or Explosions In The Sky but has a healthy spattering of Battles as well.
As if making up or the album's title these songs are anything but brief. Not counting the first intro the shortest song here is over eight minutes and the other 3 are all around the 14 minute mark and for a band that produce uber serious, post-rock marathons they lighten the load with their titles. The second track builds on airy, spacious melodies but gets progressively louder and harder until it finally bears its teeth in pounding guitars and drums, would you believe it's called Quit Touching My Ass?
Hand or Finger? is less sprawling and is more immediately accessible both in its length and spiky guitars and pounding drums. The album finishes on a long-haul of swelling guitars and wave upon wave of crashing symbols that suddenly drops away in place of a home straight of funky bass lines and delicate electronics, and all this under the title The Young Ted Danson.
Each song plays like a soundtrack to its own movie. They change tempo repeatedly, sometimes taking their time and sometimes giving out no warning at all. A strange sense of narrative drifts through them that really holds your attention. This way they maintain the lyrical structure but stay purely instrumental.
Souvaris have a healthy mix going on here. In formal terms they fit perfectly with their post-rock counterparts but with playfulness and a clever ear for the pop hook they manage to pull themselves out of the self-indulgent fog that often lingers for too long in this genre. There is a refreshing sense of irony about this album that if it were a person would be fun to hang around with but would also be capable of great depth. They'd back you up in a fight but could quite easily have caused it in the first place.
28th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
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Bonde Do Role
Bonde Do Role With Lasers
Domino
Describing Bonde Do Role is tricky. Theirs’ is a brand of ‘baile funk’, originating from Brazilian ghettos as espoused by current indie darlings CSS. Describing ‘baile funk’ is also tricky. Perhaps it is easier to utilise the words of Pedro D'eyrot, one of Bonde Do Role’s MCs. He explains that ‘baile funk is “like hip hop gone punk. We have a word for it in Portuguese which is ‘rebola’ and it means dancing with your hips. Basically, it’s booty music with people screaming over it and lots of energy.” That’s about it, and very catchy it is too.
‘With Lasers’ is an album influenced by a list of genres as long as your arm. D’eyrot says that it is like ‘digging through the garbage in Brazil and using the pieces to make a club mess’. By my reckoning this must mean that the bins in Brazil do not just contain household waste and beer cans but a myriad of different vibrant sounds. There are pre-grunge guitar riffs, beloved of air guitarists Bill and Ted, galore. There are chants that remind me of primary school skipping games the girls used to play. Mix these in with rhythms that could shake Brazilian football stadiums and beats that shake the bootys of Carnival dancers. Throw in some samples lifted from obscure Latin American cartoons and sound effects resurrected from some long forgotten Super NES or Sega Megadrive games. Amongst all this supposed garbage will also be found synth loops associated with provincial German discos circa 1987, Portuguese cheerleading and some primitive rapping. It’s a hell of a mixture which leaves quite a cluttered sound. Clutter can be bad buts it’s more akin to a second hand shop full of gems rather than the contents of a Granny’s house clearance.
The whole mixture is held together by the MCing which is of the primitive variety reminiscent of the 80’s when everyone from Blondie to John Barnes tried their hand at rapping. The fact that it is delivered in Portuguese gives it an exotic and beguiling air which the lyrics may not warrant. The female MC sounds a bit like Black Eyed Fergie but as she’s singing in a foreign language I’m not quite put off by her rhymes which could just be about London Bridges and Lady Lumps for all I know. When she throws in a few grunts, groans and sex noises here and there it all becomes more alluring than inane.
All in all Bonde do Role’s debut album does have something of a disposable feel to it – much like the contents of a Brazilian bin no doubt – but like a cheap toy its fun for now. The album is full of infectious energy and insistent beats that’ll get you in the mood for dancing with your hips. Sophisticated it is not but then who cares? Pedro D’eyrot doesn’t. “For us it's all about the fun, and if it's not fun it's not worth doing. People can think whatever they like about us, but I'd like them to listen to Bonde Do Role in 10-15 years' time and laugh their asses off.” He’s probably right, we probably will laugh in 15 months let alone 15 years. But for now I hazard a guess they’d be worth seeing live and you might just well play this at every party you host this summer, shaking your booty with people screaming over the top.
28th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 3 star reviewsCape Wrath
Pilot
Channel 4
Promising opener for this new 7-part C4 drama. David Morrissey stars as the father of a family who move to a suburban gated community looking to make a new start. Soon transpires the gates aren't always open, and the plot thickens...
Stylishly done, it's a decent riff on witness protection schemes, that manages to steer just the right side of "dark/weird/ooh what's going on in this apparently normal cul de sac" plot without getting too wacky.
With Felicity Jones, Harry Treadaway, Lucy Cohu, Tom Hardy, Nina Sosanya, Melanie Hill and Don Gilet. Starts 10th July, C4, 10pm; already showing in the States as Meadowlands
28th Jun 2007 - 6 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 3 star reviewsTransformers
(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.
25th Jun 2007 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
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Sebadoh
The Freed Man
Domino
In this humble chimps opinion, there can never be a bad time to remind yourself of the musical genius that is Lou Barlow, but 2007 has provided particularly rich pickings for fans of the indie veteran. We've already witnessed the triumphant return to recorded form of amp abusers Dinosaur Jr, with the awesome 'Beyond' an album that featured a rejuvinated Barlow back behind the bass for the first time in 20 years. Now, at the other end of the Volumic scale we get a repackaged and re-released version of 'The Freed Man', the self-explanatory titled first album from Sebadoh, the band Barlow formed after a well publicised fallout with Dinosaur Jr's J. Mascis.
The importance of Sebadoh in the underground indie scheme of things can never be underestimated. The lo-fi intimacy, invention and sheer refusal to be pigeonholed provided inspiration for many great bands that followed; class acts such as Guided by Voices and Pavement to name but two. Whereas subsequent albums were more rounded and accesible, the 52 'songs' that make up the reissued Freed Man give an invaluable insight into the inner workings of the band from Boston. I say songs, but it really plays out like a series of half ideas; the hyperactive result of stoned and wandering minds, which Barlow and partner Eric Gaffney undoubtedly possessed.
Tracks start then end without warning or breakdown altogether, all intercut with taped interviews and random commercials recorded from TV. With the longest of those 52 tracks clocking in at just over 2 and a half minutes ('Julienne' and even that is really 3 songs stuck together), The Freed Man is restless but not irritating and most definately rewarding. Like discovering a notebook of Picasso's sketches as he worked to create later masterpieces.
25th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
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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.
24th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
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The White Stripes
Icky Thump
XL Recordings
After the success of Jack White's near-permanent side-project of last year took off, the rumours flew that The White Stripes were to be no more. Only a fool would fall for that gag though, especially from a band that has a history of telling fibs and only needs a few days to record a new album. They spent a whopping 3 weeks recording this one, and it shows.
Lead single Icky Thump follows the method we've seen before of a banging radio friendly single that's track one on the album, but if I'm honest it hasn't had as much impact on me as either Seven Nation Army or Blue Orchid did. However, where those two tracks seemed like the only track on each album of that ilk, Icky Thump does sit in with things here more harmoniously.
Judging by the suits on the cover there's more than a nod to Gram Parsons and Emmylou going on here. You Don't Know What Love Is sees Jack White taking his lessons from The Raconteurs and creating an FM friendly 80's rock track.... with a touch of country. It's straightforward, but immediately engaging, oozing with personality. The production quality is definitely up on their previous efforts, which has a always been a bug-bear of mine. I never understood why using vintage equipment shouldn't result in such basics as a consistent volume level.... The Beatles and The BEach Boys always managed OK.
While the production quality may be up, the inconsistency is present in the style of the songwriting which seems to never offer the same idea twice. There seems to be few common threads running through the themes of the songs, and it very much sounds like a compilation album. 300 M.P.H. Torrential Outpour Blues is a heavy-handed down beat number, with vaguely obnoxious guitars. Conquest is a cover of Corky Robbins, complete with Mexican trumpets. Prickly Thorn makes an impression with it's infusion of bagpipes, although it leads into St. Andrew (This Battle Is In The Air), which unfortunately hides Meg's vocal contribution in cut-up tape tricks. Great title though.
Things sound tired with Little Cream Soda's rambling jam with chat. The focus seems to have been lost and the stop/start dynamic of this track and Rag and Bone in particular is already sounding a little tired - although Jack's line about "doghouse, outhouse and ...." show that he's obviously a Tommy Lee Jones fan.
I'm Slowly Turning Into You and A Martyr For My Love For You form a great centerpiece to the album - finally something a bit more serious, sitting somewhere between the outstanding musical edge of the The White Stripes and the more straightforward style of The Raconteurs. They seem much more thought out and complete than a lot of the album, and give the ever present glimpse of what a great album the band could make if they cut their output level by three and harnessed more of their live brilliance on their records.
23rd Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 3 star reviewsEditors
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.
21st Jun 2007 - 5 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 2.5 star reviewsCheeseburger
Cheeseburger
Kemado
This album needs very few words to convince you that it's worth a listen. The title says it all. These guys are American (Brooklyn), they make easy to digest rock music which will taste real good on the way down but never professes to give you any lasting sustenance. It's greasy, dirty, frowned on by girls and goes well with beer.
21st Jun 2007 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
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Alias
Collected Remixes
Anticon
Is this the sound of an underground label on the turn? I doubt it judging by the quality Anticon releases that flank this one but you really have to wonder what place this collection of easy listening remixes has either on this label or on the discography of an artist with the pedigree of Alias. Together with people like Sole and Dose One, Brendon Whitney was among the first wave of artists to launch the Anticon assault and with his work on the Deep Puddle Dynamics project and his debut The Other Side Of The Looking Glass Alias established himself as main player in this pioneering collective.
Which makes this release all the more curious. It's not bad at all, in fact many of these tracks in their own right are pretty solid but put them in a context such as this and boredom soon sets in. This is a pretty varied cast featuring the likes of Lunz, Sixtoo and Lali Puna and yet it all sounds like a substandard Alias record. All distinctive characteristics of the original songs seem to have been ironed out in favor of the presiding bass heavy, synth beat that Alias is all about at the moment.
Some standout moments are Why?'s inclusion on the 13 & God remix, lush atmospherics on Lucky Pierre's Crush and the song of the album has to go to Sixtoo's Karmic Retribution/Funny Sticks with it's booming beat and apocalyptic grandiosity. But these are the songs I would have expected to shine as the originals are so good and a part from that it's all pretty forgettable. I normally recoil from remix albums for the opposite reason, that they are too fragmented, so I guess that's one distinctive feature about this record.
20th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 2 star reviewsThe Broken Family Band
Hello Love
Track & Field
2006's release made it quite clear that Balls wasn't just a catchy title but a manifesto, a mission statement declaring that there was a new sheriff in town and his name was rock. With the latest album Hello Love the plan remains the same and although the steps forward aren't as big as Balls it still moves this band a healthy distance away from their alt-country roots. Not that these roots are something to be disassociated with but the increase in volume and intensity that has occurred over these last two albums have moulded this band into a force to be reckoned with and the country twang which is still very much present but now given extra bite is all the more potent a vehicle to deliver their brand of forked-tongue love poetry. Front man Steven Adams says of this rock element, "We like the fact that we're getting heavier with each record and we all enjoy hitting our things hard. Ten years in, we'll sound like The Bronx."
This comment says a lot about this band. They know where they're going but have no intention of hurrying to get there and from the start this has been their charm. They have a refreshingly light-hearted approach to music and though this album could see them adopting a slightly more serious approach by a: toning down the whole 'Cambridge boys do Nashville' thing and b: singing more about love as opposed to hate the fun and frolics are still kicking about.
Things pretty much continue on from where they left off in 2005. The record hits the ground running with Leaps. Adams' vocals start straight off the bat with the first beat of the drum and we're off and loving it. First single Love Your Man, Love Your Woman is the flagship song on this album. It's got all the balls of the previous record with its stomping drum structure that builds to a shrieking repeated chorus, screeching guitars and thrashing cymbals.
After all the acerbic words of jilted love Adams has penned in the past So Many Lovers sees a certain degree of positivity through hindsight with the line "You should be happy to be among the infinite number of people who have loved and lost." The new softening up is also reflected by the dreamy female backing vocals on songs like Julian and the beautiful You Get Me.
Someone has clearly melted the jaded heart of this band for them to produce such strong declarations of love and with this grand thaw we get honesty such as Dancing On The 4th Floor with its admission "Nearly all the songs are lies except this one." So Hello Love is a duel personality with the softness of this new acceptance of love and the hard musical muscle of some of the more rockier tracks. The result is an ever approaching fullness to this band's sound and their road map to The Bronx may be a long one but the journey has already started well and in the words of Hey Captain "All of us on board believe in you."
19th Jun 2007 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 3.5 star reviewsCut 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.
19th Jun 2007 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
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Shrek The Third
(dir. Chris Miller, Raman Hui)
Dreamworks
Lame threequel to this previously excellent series; really the only point seems to be to remind you how watchable (and re-watchable) the first two are. Mike Myers, Cameron Diaz, Eddie Murphy and Antonio Banderas are all back as Shrek, Princess Fiona, Donkey and Puss in Boots.
A duff plot involving the succession to the Far, Far Away throne is thrown in as little more than an excuse for a trip to add Jason Timberlake as a goofy, but still v handsome Prince to the gang. Shrek doesn't want to be king (or a dad), meanwhile Rupert Everett's Prince Charming is back. He does want to take over — ooh, who will get the crown in the end?
Couple of OK jokes, Eric Idle's Merlin is not bad; but considering the non-stop, smart and unexpected gags that filled up the first two, you don't come away from this feeling very happy ever after at all.
18th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
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James Yorkston
Roaring The Gospel
Domino
The Stones once sang that you can't always get what you want but sometimes you get what you need. But such sentiments were written in the days before globalisation and rampant consumerism. These days you can you usually get what you want even if it's not strictly what you need. Our local high street doesn't need a new branch of Subway, JJB Sports or Nandos but that's what we're going to get because apparently that's what the punters want. In 2007 when everyone seems to have a voracious appetite for musical consumption one thing we definitely don't need is another singer-songwriter out of the folky troubadour mold. Another one just isn't needed. There's plenty to cater for our needs already. Where-ever one stands on the spectrum it seems your needs are catered for; from the Magic FM listening tweeness of the likes of James Blunts to the indie kid loving Bright Eyes of this world. So we don't strictly need James Yorkston but he is what we should want. When it comes to sorting the musical wheat from the chaff this boy would be top of the pile ready to be sacked up and sent to the mill.
Where many of these troubadours subscribe to the notion that 'imitation is the sincerest form of flattery' and make little effort to disguise the fact that they have just re-hashed the winning formulas tabulated by the likes of Bob Dylan, Nick Drake, and Neil Young, 'Roaring the Gospel' shows that Yorkston’s influences are wider and deeper than that. Yorkston is a protege of Bert Jansch and I'd hazard a guess that in addition he is not only familiar with Dylan’s back pages but also knows every nook and cranny of such albums as Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks, Love’s Forever Changes and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young’s Deja Vu. 'Roaring the Gospel', his fourth album, cherry picks some of the finer moments from his heros and blends them together to tasty effect. Add to this mixture lyrics and a voice that seeps celtic folk traditions and the brew is quite potent indeed. It might not be entirely groundbreaking but it is an approach that provides Yorkston’s tunes with a character and identity which is very much distinct from his contemporaries.
It is not just the range of influences that ensures Yorkston is sacked up as wheat rather than discarded as chaff; it is also his refusal to follow the route of many of his competitors who feel the need to return to a back to basics style orthodoxy of 'man with guitar recording songs in the solace of his room.' As a result he has avoided the pitfalls of introspection and melancholy which some manage to make appealing but most don't. The range of instruments utilised in the pursuit of a sound that is warm, rich and charming is both daring and dizzying. Yorkston adds colour to his tunes with the odd unexpected flourish. On 'The Lang Toun' the humming presence of bagpipes is inspired. Accordions don't often make an appearance in modern music but add a certain panache to 'Sleep is the Jewel.' And when was the last time you heard an oboe used in tandem with a banjo, let alone to used to such magical effect as on 'Seven Sirens'?
I hope James Yorkston has sharp elbows because he really needs to be pushing his way to the front or he'll be lost and dismissed amongst the crowd of all the other singer-songwriting troubadours we don't need.
16th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 3.5 star reviewsHappy Mondays
Unkle Dysfunktional
Sequel
Generally pointless and pretty disappointing entry in the Mondays' CV. Sounds pretty much as you'd expect, rambling lyrics from Shaun Ryder that no longer sound inspired, less-than-great beats, daft titles like Angels And Whores, Cuntry Disco, Anti Warhole On The Dancefloor etc
Occasional flashes of what was once a great band; dig out Freaky Dancing if you want to remember them as they should be remembered. Should be enough to put anyone off the idea of the Stone Roses getting back together
13th Jun 2007 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 1.5 star reviewsSilversun Pickups
Carnavas
Sire
At the 2007 party of screaming dullards, where haircuts are mistaken for personality and t-shirts for opinion, Silversun Pickups would undoubtedly be the un-coolest attendees, which of course, when compared to the remaining herd of technicolour banshees, puts them in the lead and out of sight in the cool stakes.
In Carnavas, the LA four-piece have made a record that blissfully ignores current trends and unashamedly heads back to the early 90s where fuzz guitars were king. So unnassuming you might dismiss it at first or even miss it altogether, Carnavas soon gets you hooked and reels you in.
First listens recall the likes of Veruca Salt, one of the female fronted groups following the grunge troupe circa 1992-1994. Except, Silversun Pickups' singer is called Brian. However his femine voice sits comfortably over the dreamlike and wandering guitar work throughout the album and his screams hold their own as the anger notches up on the likes of current single Future Foe Scenarios and early favourite Lazy Eye. A welcome blast of nostalgia in 2007 and beyond.
12th Jun 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
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Justice
†
† (or "Cross" as some places without access to the outer limits of their keyboards are calling it) is a great debut from this French dance duo.
Crunchy, bit-crushed reworkings of Franz Ferdinand, N*E*R*D and esp Simian's We Are Your Friends over the last few years have seen their name float to the top of the "new Daft Punk" pile; the tracks here suggest they've also listened to Aphex Twin's Windowlicker, taken the template and worked out something new with it. Touches of Mr Oizo too.
Excellent early single Waters Of Nazareth is included, along w D.A.N.C.E. which manages to get away w a kids' choir in full sound-of-summer bouncy hit fashion. It's pop w a lot of dirt left in, sounds fresh, works as an album, though you've got to suspect it'll sound even better busting out of the Plastic People speakers than it does on the CT kitchen set-up
12th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 4 star reviewsThe 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.
12th Jun 2007 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
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The Ponys
Water Rats, London
"Ok. Back to the real shit"
Close to the end of their set, guitar problems forced an awkward foray into Michael Jackson jokes for Pony's frontman Jered Gummere. Once remedied it was very much back to the real shit indeed. The four-piece from Chicago are clearly more comfortable with rock n roll than stand-up and with a sound as huge as theirs, that musical confidence is not misplaced. Largely working through their recent, third and great album Turn the Lights Out, they filled the room with distortion, reverb and no small amount of psychedelic vibes, before ending as hoped and expected with album closer Pickpocket Song.
Whether it was down to time constraints, or I was just having too much of a good time, it felt like they cut short the rockout jam at the end of Pickpocket Song. Infact, there were quite a few songs that felt shorter live than on record; but that's no critcism - there was no shortchange in the amount of energy from the band. I'm hoping The Ponys will be around for a while and if they are, their sound will be hugging the walls of bigger venues than the Water Rats in the future. It was a privilege to check them and their real shit out - up close and intimate.
12th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
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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.
11th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 2.5 star reviewsRyan Adams
Koko
I had some expectations regarding this concert; first of all Adams has won me over with his records and did deliver a great performance at Royal Festival Hall a few years back. Also the venue, being so bijou and intimate, was promising even more of a connection with events on stage. With no support act the audience was really hungry for some action, and the band did not disappoint, arriving all sharply suited and sitting in one line, facing the crowd, as if to say that all the members are equally as important, no lead singer at the front. Adams, sporting classic Wayfarer sunglasses, looked like a schoolboy member of the Rat Pack, sitting on a high chair with no guitar in sight as if leading a big band playing a stripped down club set. Whether the absence of his guitar still owed to a ligament torn a month ago or an artistic choice remains a mystery. Anyway, Neal Casal was doing a great job covering for Adams.
We were first treated to songs from his latest album, 'Easy Tiger', which is out on 25/06/07, so the songs were new to most of the audience. Adams' voice was even bigger and more resonant than usual, again confirming the impression of a big band number, although on some of the songs instrumental arrangements would seem more appropriate if performed sitting on haystacks. It seemed that Adams was not in the mood for performing for the audience, with his glasses ever-present on the moodily lit stage and not acknowledging the applause until the latter part of the concert. By the time he spoke at the encore, it was drowned by the chatter of semi-captivated audience. Encore was very short and did not treat us to many of the greatest songs apart from 'Goodnight Hollywood Blvd' and 'My Winding Wheel'. All in all the band were on stage little over an hour and 10 minutes, which simply left one disappointed and seemed like a missed opportunity.
10th Jun 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
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The Hold Steady
Boys And Girls In America
Vagrant
I started writing this review last year, but the album was already out so it wasn't a priority. It somehow got lost in the backwash and only recently floated up to the top of the pile. It's just in note form - but I think that it captures most of what I wanted to say. And in fact it kinda fits in with the way this album sounds and they write lyrics with really long sentences that tell a long story and don't quite fit with the music but somehow it really works and I love it and Tony's gonna step in here with a guitar solo.
Track 1. The title itself "Boys And Girls In America" somehow seems like a hangover from the American Dream.
"She was a really cool kisser.... She was a damn good dancer, but she wan't all that good as a girlfriend".
The lyrics have a very personal and subjective style, drawing you in to the story. "We thought that Sean Berriman could fly" or (wer'e-gonna-have-a-really-long-sentence-that-doesn't-really-fit-the-music-but-Johnny's-going-to-end-it-with-a-guitar-solo) personal, melancholic, nostalgic, looking back and recounting past events and escapades.
Wave of sound. Occasional piano break. A bit like the bar-room style of the Pogues, and in several places like a long lost Springsteen gem. 3.5
Track 2. Chips Ahoy. Circles of friends - "Some otherguy". Win on the races and "Spend the whole next week getting high". "I think his name was Chips Ahoy". Keyboard break. Grooving Bass. Enthusiastic. Passionate. 4.5
Track 3. Thumping Intro. Telling a story in past tense. "It started recreational, and ended kind of medical". Guitar duel at end. Similar themes to Oxford Collapse. Proms, pool parties, BBQs. Repeated. Simple. 4
Track 4. Can't keep up. "I was kicking it with Kevin". Blues Brothers intro. 2.5
Track 5. Melancholic. Pogues in New York. Drunk. Chas and Dave. "And then last night..." "Holly's inconsolable". Boys and Girls in America. 3
Track 6. Drums intro. Great. Phase 2 mid-album track. At their most Springsteen-esqe. "I guess I met her at the Party Pit". Like a bar in America with a great bar-tender, in a dirty/worn out Hawaiian shirt. 4
Very visual. Soundtrack to an 80's movie. "...and I'm pretty sure we kissed."
*HEAVY BREAKDOWN*
.....and that's as far as I got. Massive Nights is a great track from later on. Chillout Tent is pretty good too. It's certainly a little thin in places, but has some great tracks and some classics.
9th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 3.5 star reviewsSimian Mobile Disco
Attack Decay Sustain Release
Wichita
With Dance Music Guy on extended leave due to ‘exhaustion’, the job of reviewing any music with beeps, bleeps and several beatsperminute generally falls to whoever is hanging around chimp hq after hours. Like stumbling round the darkened corridors of an after hours clubs for the first time, the move from Distortion Feedback Superfuzz Bigmuff to Attack Decay Sustain Release can be a disorientating affair.
Or is it? From the Prodigy, through Leftfield and the Chemical Brothers, casually throwing in a bit of Daft Punk and perhaps a dash of Air and onto Basement Jaxx and Groove Armada, the list of dance acts (groups) that have crossed over into the relatively mainstream world of drums and bass (plus rhythmn and lead guitars) have been few and far between. Which is understandable really, coming from a style of music that wears its underground credentials more proudly than most. Simian Mobile Disco, like those listed above, have brought the clubs up to the people, rather than forcing the people reluctantly down into the clubs. And it’s a no-lose situation for both sides. Simian Mobile Disco are guaranteed a nice slice of uncompeted success, whilst the ageing zeitgeist hunters can keep their finger in the region of the pulse, but their feet away from the dance floors.
Attack Decay Sustain Release allows us sun kissed indie heads to dabble in the dark side, getting that weekend vibe before going to the pub to continue the Kings of Leon debate, head back home at closing time and maybe come down with a bit of Neil Young’s Harvest.
7th Jun 2007 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
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Dan Deacon
Spiderman Of The Rings
Car Park
You know that scene in The Man With Two Brains where Steve Martin tries to disrupt Dr. Necessater's brain transfer operation and gets electrocuted and somehow enters a video game and gets all robotic, then becomes the ball in a pin-ball machine and bounces around the pins maniacally laughing. Well Dan Deacon's Spiderman Of The Rings is the listening equivalent of that scene. Hailing from Baltimore, this album is the twisted work of a man who sounds as if he's abducted the members of Grandaddy, Aphex Twin and the cute little chipmunks Chip and Dale, strapped on some contraption that sucks out their dreams and nightmares and filters them all through a sampling machine. In order to proceed with this review I will need you to forget I ever mentioned Grandaddy or Aphex Twin as this sounds nothing like either of them although Chip and Dale are a definite influence I believe.
The opening track Woody Woodpecker is obviously designed to separate the casual listener from the hardened ear as its sampled trademark laugh by the famous cartoon character is the basis for the song and is about as irritating as the original. But if you can get past this there are rewards ahead.
The Crystal Cat sets its sights skyward and the course is set throughout its driving beat and lightning lyrical delivery while Wham City can afford to take its time having over 11 minutes to play with. Tip-toeing in like the intro to a Cafe Del Mar album it gradually starts pounding, introducing the chanting mish-mash of vocals. This basically drives forever onwards with all manner of bleeps and soaring synths to eventually fade out and be replaced by what seems to be a new track. But after further synthetic pummeling the chanting vocals join the throng and we are once again reunited with the earlier half and are left aghast that we have been listening to one track for the last 11 minutes. It's awesome.
Okie Dokie sounds like a chip-monk play pen, so does Trippy Green Skull - though this time they're all possessed and as a contrast we get the sublime instrumental Pink Batman which could be a Philip Glass soundtrack wrapped in candy.
You really can't relax with this record as around every corner is yet another test of our willingness to listen but quite often these moments build to an almost unbearable level of annoyance then suddenly cut to almost euphoric moments of lyrical genius that we almost forget that we were about to smash up the stereo. Discounting the final track which must be what it's like to be trapped on a bus at school kicking out time with every kid trying out a new ring-tone this album is curiously appealing. Its like being told a joke as a kid and though not getting it at all you walk away laughing feeling strangely smug having been told it.
7th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
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New Young Pony Club
Fantastic Playroom
Modular
The sickly cocktail of spiky electro-pop being all too rampant on the air waves recently and this bands repeated adornment of NME covers not to mention their multi remixed advert friendly singles hasn't done these London newcomers any favors in my narrow-minded over 30 opinion but it's a good job I actually listen to some these records before attempting to review them as this debut is rather good. They may be wet behind the ears and tick all the right fashion boxes but Fantastic Playroom shows a surprising oblivion to all this.
Kicking off with gangly guitars and oozing with bass Get Lucky introduces this bands sound wonderfully.Tahita Bulmer's slightly out of tune vocal style is strangely reminiscent of Seelenluft's surprise hit Manila and backed with their blend of booming beats and percussion driven texture, seen most notably on Hiding On The Staircase, Fantastic Playroom welcomes in fond memories of the much missed Luscious Jackson.
Anyone who's switched on a tv recently will be all too familiar with this bands leading track Ice Cream. But don't let the fact that it features on an Intel advert put you off this pitch perfect piece of electro pop. In fact you probably saw the advert and made a mental note to source out this sound that was forcing your toes to tap against their anti-capitalist will, because very occasionally advert tunes are picked for their clear-cut ability to captivate an audience rather than their tendency to barge into your head uninvited and set up camp indefinitely.
Their intention is quite clear throughout this album and for the most part their desire to create no-frills danceable pop tunes works perfectly. There is very little pretension here, the lyrics are intelligent yet simple, the beats are deep and crystal clear and all the surrounding synths and effects make the whole thing utterly absorbing and very hard to resist. Grey's admission "It's alright, as long as it's black or white," goes some way to describe the simplicity of this sound but as the last notes of the fantastic closer Tight Fight ring out you can almost hear the Queen Of Pop herself illuminate a light bulb above her head having found the sound to her next album.
6th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 3.5 star reviewsAlex Delivery
Star Destroyer
This new release from the always-worth-a-listen Jagjaguwar label is a curious little thing indeed. It's packed full of fractured beats and trickling melodies that all struggle to be heard amid the ever-present fog of noise that make up this intriguing collection of songs. New York's Alex Delivery have here a fuzzy blend of prog rock, Krautrock and Brighton rock mixing spacey distortion with deafening drums, mumbled vocals and delicate melodies that seem to emerge from disused seaside piers or children's playgrounds.
Self-sabotage is also a favored method here as on the opening track Komad. At just over 10 minutes this song treads the fine line between an utter captivating courage to set up a glorious song structure only to completely demolish it and an irritating tendency to never give you what you think you want. Like a rusty swing in a disused playground this song creeks into view only to be joined by crashing drums and frontman Robert Lombardo's gritty vocals. The swing keeps on creaking for about 5 more minutes until it slowly morphs into a field of distorted synths and muffled beats. Rainbows lays down a bed of delicate clicks that sound like millions of sampled insects then scatters over the top an achingly nostalgic melody. Lombardo's vocals shuffle through all this in a lazy manner but you can rest assured that its the scratchy insect noises that eventually win out and the melody is soon confined to a distant memory.
Scotty is the sound of a crippled merry-go-round on board a sinking oil tanker, its sweet, playful loops barely audible over the crashing sounds all around. But then Sheath-Wet seems to hint at this merry-go-round staging something of a resurrection as its melody rises slowly from the depths, joined by the clumsy clattering of various hard surfaces this plods on for over 11 minutes with vocals drifting in whenever they can be bothered. I don't mean in any way to sound negative about this approach as it is strangely beguiling and if you stick with this song you never want it to finish and at some points you wonder if it ever will. It loops round in a hypnotic, self absorbed fuzz like a child spinning around, eventually losing balance.
As the art work suggests this record has an other-worldly feeling, often mirroring the illogical structure of a dream where nothing seems to fit together but the more time you spend with it the more this disconnection seems to make sense. Until, that is, you try to explain it to someone once it's finished and they look at you blankly, waiting for you to stop. A bit like what I'm trying to do now so I'll shut up and let you experience it for yourself on my recommendation. (I think.)
5th Jun 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 3.5 star reviewsDizzee Rascal
Maths & English
XL
My my, hasn't he grown. The third album from the young up-start sees age and experience add eight to his still gritty rhyme style. The blueprint is still the same since his 2003 Mercury Prize inning debut Boy In Da Corner but with the gift of hindsight he is able to craft a much fuller ecord not just in content but also in style enlisting the help of US rappers Bun B and Pimp C, Shy FX and finishing off with an all UK line up of Alex Turner and Lily Allen.
This new maturity is expressed from the outset with World Outside where Dizzee illuminates the importance of seeing the bigger picture that lies beyond both his fame and the ghetto roots that he has come from. You can almost hear Earl's brother look up from his beer with the start of the next track Pussyole saying "Tell me they didn't just go oldskool." Here Dizzee raps furiously over the awesome Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock beat bringing a fresh dose of grime to this classic. Where's Da G's questions fake gangsters while Bubbles is a full-on dick swinging boast-fest about Dizzee's success. But you can't argue with a word he says here as it's all true, it's all to be applauded and it's all rhymed over the tightest production.
Tracks like Hardback (Industry) illustrate just how far this MC has come. This song sounds like Dizzee Rascal's pitch at a school careers evening explaining the pitfalls of making it big in the music industry as he dishes out advice over a deep, booming beat. It's the stark contrast of tracks like this and the ego filled, abrasive moments like first single Sirens and album closer U Can't Tell Me Nuffin' that make this record so appealing. On Suk My Dick Dizzee claims "When I was a kid I had a chip upon my shoulder but it aint getting better as I am getting older." This is so true and somewhere in this line lies the success of Maths & English. The dust certainly has settled on Dizzee's life of Grime but it is the sign of a great artist to be able to preach words of startling wisdom with honest conviction while also retaining the edge that put him at the top in the first place.
4th Jun 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
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Elvis Perkins
Ash Wednesday
XL Recordings
I haven’t quite cracked the elusive unifying theory of why I like or dislike a certain song, but what I’ve sussed out so far is that the music I love the best is the music that makes me feel something. Be it happy or sad. I can only guess, having spoken to none of my musical icons on the subject, that such music must have been made by people who were genuinely feeling it.
After the first listen to “Ash Wednesday”, the moving debut album by Elvis Perkins, you get the impression that this man feels an awful lot of the melancholy that the age in which we live in can inspire. It might just be that the first listen to this album coincided with me turning 30 and the hangover that it brings, but it really struck a chord.
His take on alt.folk draws from other troubled troubadours both past and present. With a nod in the direction of Willy Mason, a crib sheet of cryptic Dylan poems and the warmth and feeling of Ray Lamontagne, Perkins has done his homework, but nicely woven the sources together rather than simply plagiarising the lot.
The album opens with the ace While You Were Sleeping which starts off with just his laidback vocal over his acoustic and is subtly built up to fill your speakers with some fine full blooded soul searching by voice and band alike. Those heights are briefly reached again on the excellent Moon Woman II, but the rest of the album is a more sombre and introspective affair.
Seeing him play live, as Muxloe and I did last week (supporting the aforementioned Willy Mason), he injected more joy in the performance than is present on the album. His backing band throw themselves into some of the songs with the gusto of an old rag time funeral marching band, but not losing the emotion of the songs.
After already being convinced of the album and its integrity, I learned that he lost his father (actor Anthony Perkins) to AIDS in the early nineties and that his mother was killed on board one of the planes on September 11th 2001. It suddenly became obvious that the feeling of end of the world hopelessness captured on this album is undoubtedly genuine.
3rd Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
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The Veils
Nux Vomica
The only common thread running through The Veils from their 2004 debut The Runaway Found to this exceptional follow-up is frontman Finn Andrews himself. Having seen off various label difficulties to make their debut, Andrews emerged from the aftermath as the only member of the band and went back to New Zealand to regroup. Nux Vomica is the fruits of his labour and it's an impressive progression from the folk-tinged debut.
It's quite evident that the success of some bands can be attributed to the group effort and that sometimes it's just the work of one leading vision. Listening to Nux Vomica it's not hard to feel that Andrews' very presence in the band is not the only factor that makes him The Veils. His voice has evolved into an all commanding and utterly compelling power that drives this record and if he hadn't formed Grinderman would have Nick Cave wishing he'd made it.
From the opening Not Yet we get the simmering tension and howling ferociousness of Andrews' gothic story-telling and the ease with which this band can climb to majestic heights. And it's from this lofty position that Andrews is able to cast his eye over this world and pose his questions of faith and purpose that run through each song. The manner in which these questions are asked is thrillingly varied. The kitchen sink domesticity of Advice For Young Mothers To Be sees Andrews assume the position of the young mother-to-be and her sad story is told to the false jaunt of a Divine Comedyesque sing along comparing her current state to "this crown of thorns." This theme is expressed once more with startling contrast on Jesus For The Jugular. The churches dependance on both sides of the good and evil spectrum is highlighted with blood-curdling honesty over a gritty blues riff. It's the fiercest song on the record going for the jugular in both style and content and it's not until the beautifully serene Under The Folding Branches that you realise how much of a rest you needed. The comfort of these folded branches has Andrews daring to hope for the future claiming "Now is not too late, heaven can wait another year or so."
I could remain in these serene surroundings for ever if it weren't for the overwhelming pull of the title track that follows. This is where Andrews really lays his cards on the table daring to confront God himself, firing question after question "What say you Lord, why is the truth of us so hard to unveil?" With slowly tightening fists and rising anger the song threatens to explode all the way through and though it by no means ends this album it seems a fitting point to end this review. From here on in you coast to the finish line with more questions than when you started but thank Christ there's people like Finn Andrews who can ask them so perfectly.
1st Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
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Night Of The Sunflowers
(dir. Jorge Sanchez-Cabezudo)
Spanish rape and revenge thriller that twists with each of its six chapters to reveal different, subtle shades of a complex, involving story.
A pair of bickering, aging neighbours in a small deserted village, a pot-holing expert and his wife, a married cop who works with his father-in-law, and a disillusioned travelling salesman are among the characters we meet in a dusty backwater where nothing ever seems to happen.
Another grown-up European drama, packed with tiny details that hint at rich back-stories for all the characters, without dwelling on anything for too long. Moves from being a visceral stalker chiller to almost Hitchcock-levels of multiple motivations and human interaction in extreme situations. Highly recommended if you're looking for something that doesn't have the number 3 in the title this summer.
31st May 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 4 star reviewsEmily Haines & The Soft Skeleton
Knives Don't Have Your Back
Drowned In Sound Recordings
As a fervent fan of the Canadian collective Broken Social Scene I've been an admirer of Emily Haines for some time. In her BSS guise she makes me swoon. Every time I hear 'Anthems for a Seventeen Year Old Girl' from the album 'You Forgot it in People', (the stand out track from an album packed with potential stand out tracks) I wonder why they don't make more use of the mercurial Ms. Haines. Her sporadic presence in BSS always reminds me of a skillful winger stuck out on the sidelines away from the action. As an example 'Anthems for a Seventeen Year Old Girl' reveals all that needs to be known of Emily Haines. Its all about the voice; one that makes me fall in love, believing she must be both beautiful and cool. Beautiful, because she sings like an ethereal siren. Cool, because when she sings of how 'you used to be one of the rotten ones and I liked you for that' she epitomises the existence of everyone who is, or ever was, a bona fide indie kid the world over. 'Knives Don't Have Your Back' explains why sometimes it's not always completely fulfilling to fall in love with the coolest girl around.
Some will know that Emily Haines is not only a sometime contributor to the Broken Social Scene but also the front woman of Metric, a more dancey and punky outfit which took London by storm with their live shows earlier this year. 'Knives Don't Have Your Back', her debut solo album backed by her band the Soft Skeleton, offers a collection of songs that one senses she has longed to reveal away from the limitations imposed by her alternative roles. It is essentially a series of confessions and tales of loss eeked from her soul via the conduit of a piano. This exposure is simultaneously touchingly tender and achingly painful. The obvious comparison to be made, based on fragile sentiments and confident piano loops, is with the early material of Tori Amos; though minus the melodrama. But more than any other act it is the Velvet Underground that springs to mind on first listen. Its not so much the music or attitude of Lou Reed and John Cale that this album recalls but it is the qualities, if not the actual tones, of the two female Velvets that haunts from the grave. 'Reading in Bed' and 'Our Hill' exemplify the manner in which Mo Tucker, on songs like After Hours, manged to display a femine vulnerability while 'Doctor Blind' and 'The Lottery' are reminiscent of Nico's brooding sexuality.
Just as the Velvet Underground were shot through with the energy of New York, Sigur Ros encapsulate the sound of Icelandic fjords, or the Beuna Vista Social Club are the essence of Cuba, the sound of 'Knives Don't Have Your Back' mirrors the geography of Emily Haine's Canadian homeland. The songs are so evocative of skating on frozen ponds with wintery skies and endless horizons. There are moments of absolute sublime beauty; 'Winning' and 'Nothing & Nowhere' are songs that can break your heart and then mend it in the space of just a few minutes. If you had your ipod set to shuffle and any one of these numbers came on randomly you would think that if this chosen song was representative of the whole album then 'Knives Don't Have Your Back' would warrant a rating of nothing less than 5 out of 5. There are no problems with any single one of the songs individually. They are subtley crafted with heart wrenching honesty in isolation, but stacked back to back they can leave one feeling a little cold. There is a longing for some comfort and warmth just as I imagine there would be if one fell through the ice of a frozen Canadian pond. Perhaps she is aware of this; on 'Reading in Bed' she asks 'after all the luck you've had, why are your songs so sad?' I'm still in love with Emily Haines but she's perhaps just a little bit too cool - no matter how beautiful a crisp winter morning is sometimes you just wish for the advent of some spring sunshine.
30th May 2007 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
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Black Milk
Popular Demand
Fat Beats
Though 2005 saw Black Milk release Sounds Of The City he then signed to Fat Beats, making Popular Demand his official debut. Recalling the late, great J Dilla in its looped soul melodies and hollow beats, Popular Demand signals a welcome return to grass roots hip hop. Featuring a whole host of local Detroit heavyweights from Slum Village to Guilty Simpson, producer/MC Curtis Cross has delivered an intelligent record with tight beats and easy-flow rhymes.
After a slow start with the title track, Sound The Alarm is an early highlight with its slow crunching beat and reverberating baseline. Guilty Simpson's deadly serious delivery bumps hard alongside Black Milk's layered production which loops perfectly around the beat. The tempo is stepped up for the next track Insane, a jumped-up, intricately constructed beat that backs up Black Milk's effortless flow.
Popular Demand is a well paced ride with frequent instrumental interludes like the expertly crafted, sample heavy Play The Keys and slower rhymed cuts like the soulful Three+Sum allowing welcome relief from the big beats of tracks like the album highlight Watch 'Em. Here Que Diesel and Fat Ray create a glorious piece of hip hop fitting each rhyme into the rolling, hand-clapped beat with its stop/start confidence that just keeps on bumpin.
There has been much talk about this young talent filling the shoes of fellow Detroit mastermind Dilla and this album shows him more than capable of carrying this mantle. In fact Cross seems more comfortable in front of the mic than Dilla did sculpting his production perfectly to fit his rhyming style. Following in the footsteps of bigwigs like Jay Z or Kanye West and younger MC's like Lupe Fiasco Black Milk is the real deal and this record continues Detroit's underground hip hop pedigree.
30th May 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
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The Boggs
Forts
The Boggs is basically Jason Freidman and Forts is his excellent sophomore LP after 2002's We Are The Boggs We Are. Some new members have been drafted in for this album including Christian Obermaier of Schneider TM and Julian Cross of the Liars and the result is a free-flowing jumble of ramshackled post-punk musings that continuously threaten to collapse in a structureless heap but somehow manage to hold it together. Like Bruce Lee's art of 'fighting without fighting,' The Boggs policy of 'structure without structure' is what makes this record so unique and so refreshing.
Many of the songs, like Remember The Orphans, sound like a basic drum-heavy back bone has been laid down but anything else is fair game. Layered vocals shout from all over the studio to create a spontaneous, stream-of-consciousness feel to the lyrics. There is a healthy urgency to many of these songs like the furious strumming of So I So You or the toe-tapping handclaps of If We Want. But a one trick pony this is not as the raucous band practice is often punctuated with more contemplative moments like the string laden One Year On or the delicate guitar work and deep bass of The Passage. Freidman's unrefined vocal delivery coupled with the often driving music make these songs thrillingly varied.
Forts can slap you across the face with post-punk rudeness, dazzle you with indie-pop charm or slow you right down with shoe-gazing introspection. From start to finish Freidman and friends concoct a mighty broth packed to the hilt with a varied array of flavors that together create a highly entertaining listen. Recommended.
28th May 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
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Sage Francis
Human The Death Dance
Strange Famous
After hearing the opening track to the 3rd full length from this master of all things spoken I started planning my 'fallen hero' review. With a heavy heart and a heavier pen I began the obituary of this lyrical wizard, combing through his previous two albums trying to find any predictions for this untimely demise. But luckily for Sage Francis and you, my worthy readers, I am not one of these people who writes a review based on the first few tracks, because by track 3 I was beginning to mentally screw up my previous review and was only too glad to find myself back at the drawing board. Where Underground For Dummies started things off with a predictable and unimaginative back-story to Sage's hip hop pedigree Civil Disobedience restores the factory settings and it's pretty much clever wordplay and tight rhymes from here on in.
After a string of EPs it was 2002's Personal Journals that really let Sage flex his lyrical muscles. It was a dark and and gritty portrait of a man on the edge and was followed up in 2005 with the awesome A Healthy Distrust. This was an upgrade from the first album in every way. The beats were massive and the rhymes fiercer than anything that had gone before. I guess Human The Death Dance falls somewhere in between - which is no bad place to reside in the Sage back catalogue.
On A Healthy Distrust, Sage confessed to having "more back issues than Guns n' Ammo," and this album shows that few of these issues have been resolved, instead they seem to have festered and grown more potent over the years. Like friend and fellow poetic genius Buck 65, Sage Francis has always written his own rules and has never complied to any Hip Hop cliche. Instead of dick-swinging lyrics and thugged-out, self-referencing imagery we get an outpouring of anger, self-pity and cynicism slotted expertly into well crafted beats. The variety of beats here is what makes this album so listenable. Clickety Clack describes its beat perfectly while the dark and brooding Call Me Francois sounds like a Terminator chase scene.
But here's something I don't normally say in a hip hop review - it's the slow jams that really steel the show here. The best moments in the Sage Francis live show are when all the beats quit and he goes it alone. He has such lyrical dexterity - and without a beat this really shines. So the closest we get to that on a record is when the beat slows down as in Water Line or is replaced altogether by a full string section as on the epic Good Fashion. But there is a run of glory on the last four tracks starting with the album highlight Hell Of A Year. This is classic Sage Francis - slow, dark and oozing with melancholia. Few hip hop songs are about failed relationships and lost love but this is Sage's forte and the power of this song is still ringing in your ears when you get to the album closer Going Back To Rehab. This is Sage's most adventurous song yet. At just over six minutes it starts with a gentle guitar melody with Sage rhyming fluidly and venomously slowly getting fiercer and fiercer until the beat kicks in and the spit starts flying. It's an angry and powerful way to finish this super-intelligent third album and if it wasn't so damn good you'd be reaching for the phone, dialing the authorities to warn them that this guy's gonna do something bad sometime soon. But musically this isn't that time thank god and shame on me for thinking the Francis crown had slipped.
23rd May 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 3.5 star reviews
Band of Horses
Scala, London
With the departure of Matt Brooke, and the promising sounds coming from his new band Grand Archives, I was apprehensive that there would be a noticeable hole in the Band of Horses sound for tonight's show, but once Ben Bridwell took to the stage it was pretty clear who was in charge - and the wound had been well and truly healed.
His constant chat and banter quickly warmed the crowd, and a couple of a numbers quickly did the same to warm Bridwell's vocal chords. His powerful voice was the star of the show, but the value of the entire band's sheer enthusiasm cannot be underestimated.
The multitude of tattoos poking out from under shirt sleeves should have given some clues that behind the gentle looking bearded band was a hairy monster waiting to rock out. While The Funeral may well end up being their Creep, it was phenomenal live, with a sweeping majesty that was helped along by the singing crowd. The drums and two bass action of Our Swords showed some breadth to the band's style, and while there was plenty of instrument swapping it never hindered their performance. I guarantee you have never seen a man play a lap guitar like it was a flying V, but such enthusiasm lifted Great Salt Lake into a new dimension.
For probably the first time in memory the lack of songs on offer from a band with only one album never even hinted at being a problem. The band seems to have discovered a lost secret stash of moonshine with this forthcoming album, as the unlikely situation of new songs sounding as good as your old favourites was what we were treated to. The loud, rolling, bar room brawl of songs culminated in a fantastic foot stamping sing-a-long to a new track and it was certainly a million miles from the busker 're-imagining' No Woman No Cry on my tube home.
I have a new entry at number one for my albums-I-can't-wait for list, and Band of Horses have cemented their place far beyond a mere My Morning Jacket stand in.
23rd May 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 4 star reviewsWilco
Shepherd's Bush Empire, London
For a while now Wilco have been the final frontier when it comes to live music. In the last few years many of the greats have been ticked off my list and tonight the final pillar was going to fall. Wilco certainly didn't disappoint. You could divide this gig into two distinct sections - before Jeff Tweedy addressed the crowd and after. Ploughing through 3 choice cuts from the new album and some Wilco classics including I Am Trying To Break Your Heart it seemed Tweedy was here to do a professional job and get the hell out of there. Then the surprisingly charismatic frontman decided to include us in their fun and the whole night took off. And after that it went pretty much as I'd expected, which is good - as I expected nothing short of greatness.Wilco have never been the kind of band to come out punching with soaring anthems or fancy pyrotechnics so it wasn't until mid-way through that their brilliance fully seeps in and you stand there totally porous to their genius. That's when songs like At Least That's What You Said, Hummingbird and A Shot In The Arm envelop you in their warmth and you are forever changed. Glen Kotche's drumming was, as expected, the back bone to this stunning performance, and new signing Nels Kline frequently took new tracks like Impossible Germany and the beautiful You Are My Face to dazzling heights as he frantically throttled the neck of his guitar. But it was the awesome rendition of the epic Spiders (Kidsmoke) that totally stole the show and took it stellar. I have always considered A Ghost Is Born to be Wilco's finest and this reinforced my opinion. During the 10 minute marathon of climbing guitars, heavy drumming and swirling sound effects this band became something else. This song alone puts them in their own category and though Sky Blue Sky sees them opting for time out of this category for a while their place will always be guaranteed. It was a pleasure to be in the company of this band and its music.
BC - 4 Stars
As a powerhouse band Wilco seem to be getting better and better, with some great contributions from the new boys coming up through the ranks, and notably the Clapton-suited summer signing Nels Cline up front proving some major firepower. Jeff Tweedy holds his own in a guitar duel however, of which there were plenty - mostly more full on and rocking than I could have ever anticipated.
In a live setting the quiet/loud formula of many of the tracks was more apparent - even on many pre A Ghost Is Born numbers, and certainly on beefed up renditions of some of the Sky Blue Sky highlights, such as Side With The Seeds. Many of the more low-key songs like Poor Places and Via Chicago were given a fleshed out majesty by the full band that made them sound better than ever with the finer details or the effects, keyboards and backing vocals more richly presented. Surprisingly the big stand out for me was Woody Guthries Airline to Heaven, which found the band firing on all 6 cylinders to magical effect.... and there was even room for an extra Nels Cline solo.
After the crowd got into the swing of it, Tweedy lightened up and things really picked up getting better and better. This is a man I never thought I would see doing the running man, but there you go. With two extended encores it seemed like we were in Wilco heaven, and with the introduction of Bill Fay for a rendition of his Be Not So Fearful we were provided with a touching tribute to some of the bands roots and influences. Fantastic.
CSF - 4.5 Stars
just to add to the dedicated tweedy-watchers above. for some reason i had them filed in the wrong side side of my alt country factfile for years, have to say i'm glad we've put in the conversion hours at chimp towers to get me up to speed. have only really got round to absorbing the last two albums, but enjoyed everything they played. totally concur on Spiders (Kidsmoke) being the stand-out moment - love those loooong jams where everything cruises and then explodes. Impossible Germany had a great solo to finish it off, loved the freak-out stuff on Via Chicago and that last Bill Fay track was a very sweet closer. never really noticed the beatles influence on the wilco sound before, suddenly felt like i was watching a kind of US indie version of Wings (a good thing in my book). great playing from the whole band, and good to hear a band rocking out without just turning up the amps to 11.
brought 3 other newbies w me; all walked out converts which leads me to award a pretty conclusive...
4 Stars - c71
22nd May 2007 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 4.5 star reviewsThe Young Gods
Super Ready/Fragmente
Play It Again Sam
I‘ll hold my hands up and confess to not knowing a great deal about The Young Gods, which is surprising as apparently the Swiss group, formed in 1985, were a huge influence on bands such as Tool, Ministry and Nine Inch Nails. But then maybe that's not all that surprising as those forementioned groups and their Industrial chums never really did it for me.
Apparently, The Young Gods are quite the visionaries, forever looking to reinvent their music. Impressive then, in a Back to the Future kind of way, that new album Super Ready / Fragmenté sounds well and truly stuck in the early 1990’s. All big-but-forgettable guitars, reverbed vocals sung with a clipped neutral European accent (or in French for the teeth-aching C’est Quoi C’est Ça) the odd Sitar now and again... Maybe I’m missing something huge, but the whole experience just washes by, enducing nothing more than a shrug of the shoulders. Not that front man Franz Treichler would be bothered, he seems quite the optimist as he sings this eurovision-esque couplet on opener I’m the Drug.
“We’ve got dreams to share. lots of love to spare.” OK. Goodnight.
18th May 2007 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 1.5 star reviewsBattles
Mirrored
Warp Records
Battles first came to my attention a couple of years back. Rumours of a group featuring ex members of Don Caballero and Helmet were to these ears (on paper) the equivalent of musical nirvana (spiritual, not Seattle). I presumed they would sound like Don Caballero, only heavier (Helmeter?) On preparing to listen to their debut EP, I was braced for a flurry of slaps round the face - only to receive a well-mannered stroke of the chin. This wasn’t musical machine guns - it was clever musical noodlings in the territory of arch-noodlers Tortoise, and well; I had Tortoise for that sort of thing. So, Battles slipped off the mental radar, only to sporadically reappear in the form of some live shows last year, live shows I didn’t attend but from whose reviews I learned that the drummer had a massive cymbal stand.
When Mirrored arrived in the in-tray, my memory was jogged to that early hope. After a quick, half-hearted first listen, it appeared my preconceptions were right - here were a bunch of incredibly talented and tight musicians, overly pleased with themselves for making music more enjoyable to them than the listener. Like a series of ‘in’ jokes they were reluctant to share.
But how wrong I was. Spend some quality time with Mirrored and it soon becomes clear that it is a great record on many levels.Yes - they are having a good time, but this is by no means an exclusive party. Opening track Race:In sets the tone nicely and is a good snapshot of what Battles seem to be about. A driving hi-hat and snare rim percussion, and a subtle - repetitive lead guitar part - are joined at various stages in the songs 5 minutes, with whistling, chanting, chimes, what appears to be some sort of pipe percussion, a xylophone, sleigh bells, keyboards, great drum beats. And this invention, never at the cost of quality, continues over the other 10 songs, before closing with Race:Out (a speeded up/slowed down version of track one).
All of which comes together to rock hard, groove hard, be at once serious and intelligent whilst good fun and high-spirited. Mirrored has pulled off a great trick of sounding unlike anything else, and whilst a venture into unchartered territory could require a certain level of pretension, it remains completely open and accessible to all. Mirrored will most likely feature in end of year ‘best-of’ lists and is quite possibly the soundtrack to the best movie not yet made. A movie where Gary Busey gets kicked in the shins by a midget. That’s the vibe of the thing.
Listen to track here (Windows Media):
Atlas
Leyendecker
Tonto
Race:Out
16th May 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 4 star reviews
Von Sudenfed
Tromatic Reflexxions
Domino
Getting over that tricky 37th album by starting a new band, mark e smith has teamed up with mouse on mars to produce one of his freshest sounding records in years.
it's exactly what you'd imagine - glitchy, scattery beats, MES sampled and looped, songs about sven vath djing etc. all works really well - it's in the tradition of the stuff he did w coldcut ages ago. his voice sits as well over bleeps as it does guitars (that said, there are some great distorted blow outs here too)
the single Fledermaus Can't Get It is great, and you've got to love tracks called Speech Contamination/German Fear Of Osterreich and Jbak Lois Lane - but it's Dear Dead Friends that's the real standout - the most lowkey, beautiful thing he's recorded since songs like Rose (Shift Work) or Bill Is Dead (Extricate). always liked his take on love songs, and this feels like a funeral tribute, with almost high-life guitars dancing over skipping beats
the fall album to buy if you haven't got round to buying one for a while.
15th May 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 4 star reviewsZodiac
(dir. David Fincher)
In the late 60's and early 70's, the Zodiac killer claimed responsibility for a series of murders in and around San Francisco, taunting the police and the papers with cryptic letters. After detective David Toschi (Mark Ruffalo) fails to conclusively crack the mystery the case becomes dormant, until a young cartoonist (Jake Gyllenhaal) from the paper takes up the challenge.
It's been five years since David Fincher's last effort (the overblown and disappointing Panic Room), and with the opening 20 minutes of Zodiac it's clear he has a far more inspiring story to work with here. The film quickly demonstrates it's support for the Scorcese style of film-making, with the period setting of the story evocatively re-created, some great montages and a high volume soundtrack that works exceptionally well - using Santana, Donovan and other 60s icons, to (relatively subtly) create a believable world for the story to exist in.
Fincher seems to have found his feet a bit more that usual here, steering away from his move overt technique tricks and producing an elegant film, with some excellent directorial flourishes. The opening shot sets the scene superbly in July 4th California, there's a magnificent tracking shot of a taxi from above, and a similar shot following of the first letter to arrive at The Chronicle newspaper.
The acting throughout is superb, but some of the performances are restricted by the slightly clunky format of at least the middle of the film. As the timeline shifts forward at a variety of rates ('2 months later', '20 minutes later', '4 years later') it becomes hard to sustain the supposed 'reign of terror' that the killer had over the state, but once things settle down it finds it's feet nicely. That unfortunately leaves Robert Downey Jnr's character a bit redundant, and focus shifts over to cartoonist Robert Graysmith's developing interest in solving the case. Strangely, that provides a lot more suspense and twists in the plot, with the unsolved nature of the case leading to a bit of speculation, but also some surprises.
15th May 2007 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 3.5 star reviews
Arctic Monkeys
Favourite Worst Nightmare
Domino
Last month in the sweaty temple of music known as the London Astoria I worshiped at the altar of the Arctic Monkeys. Their performance was a revelation that mugged me of my considerable cynicism regarding the copius plaudits given to these whipper-snappers from Sheffield. My account of that experience was the review equivalent of Belushi back flipping down the aisles when the Rev. James Brown asked of the Blues Brothers congregation 'do you see the light?' Yes, I saw the light. And like all new converts I felt an evangelical duty to spread the word. The word was that the Arctic Monkeys are the real deal. So it was with some trepidation with which I approached listening to 'Favourite Worst Nightmare.' Having become such a public zealot would I now be left with a considerable amount of egg on my face? Thankfully the answer is no. Like any belief that is successfully put to the test my faith has been affirmed and strengthened. Though this may not be their masterpiece I stand by my assertion that the Arctic Monkeys are the real deal and, so long as they remain so, it is my mission to convert every Doubting Thomas.
The difficult second album. Many a lauded and applauded act has struggled with this one. A variety of approaches have been taken in pursuit of delivering the second coming. The Gallagher approach was to give an airing to the left overs deemed not quite good enough for the debut album. Some, such as the Strokes, take a laissez faire 'if it aint broke, don't fix it' approach. The Squire and Brown tactic was to take previous success as a license for self indulgence. Others, thinking of the La's, just wilt from the pressure. Luckily, the Arctic Monkey's have avoided the pit falls that litter the paths taken by these forerunners. Their sound maintains an energy and freshness which dispels fears they may have rested on their laurels. This is a collection that varies the pace and tone to suggest that they are more than just a one trick pony while the retention of economical 3 minute songs has guarded against any over indulgence.
Just in case the listener is in any doubt about the Arctic Monkey's musical direction they deliver hellos and goodbyes which make their own intentions absolutely clear. Album opener Brianstorm offers reassurance that they won't entirely turn their backs on the floor filling anthems with which the myspace kids first fell in love. Also reassuring is the proof that their heads haven't been turned by fame; preferring to mock boys in 't-shirts and ties combinations' and girls in jacuzzis who 'lay it on a plate' rather than deigning to join them. 505, the final song of the set, however leaves the listener with a reminder that the band intend to let their sound evolve even if outright revolution isn't on the cards. The signs point to the emergence of a more measured less frantic approach. Less brash and more sophisticated. Less about bravado but more confessional. All without discarding what made them special in the first place.
Where 'Whatever You Say I Am' was all about the possibilities of the night ahead, the soundtrack to an evening of escapades on dance-floors, Favourite Worst Nightmare is the journey home. Stepping off the nightbus the streets are empty except for neon reflections in dirty puddles and the rattling sound of the kebab shop shutters being pulled down. There is an air of menace that permeates throughout. It is an album that forces you to look over the shoulder to find you're being followed by edgy riffs, eerie organs, frantic drums, aggressive bass and tales of jealous boyfriends, daggers drawn and noses broken.
The strength of the Arctic Monkey's is that there is no evident bandmaster. They are a collective or gang who back each other up and allow all members a moment in the limelight. All have a chance to shine and impress. Alex Turner is a great chronicler of our times and certainly knows how to deliver a tune but that doesn't mean the rest are his backing band - far from it. The band was famously formed after they were given guitars for Christmas and surely Santa must have also delivered a bumper book of rock n roll riffs too. The versatility of the guitar parts is dizzying; ranging from Jack White-esque axe-smithery to delicate moments like riding the surf with the Beach Boys. The rhythm section play their part too. The bass veers from bullying on 'Teddy Picker' to bouncy on 'Flourescent Adolescent' and everything is held together by drumming alternating from powerhouse to shuffling in a manner which even Remi would be proud. Fortunately when they all raise their game simultaneously such as on 'Balaclava' there is no sign of too many cooks spoiling the broth, on the contrary the mixture of ingredients is magic.
I'm not preaching here in hope of convincing you to pay alms to the Chimpomatic church only to find that I shall later misappropriate these funds for a new life in Rio. It is not an album completely immune from criticisms, though in truth this is knit-picking in order to demonstrate that I'm not just pretending that the Emperor is wearing clothes. Very occasionally as on 'If You Were There, Beware' or 'Do Me A Favour' it is easy to predict the 'here comes the rock out' bit that characterises 6th form bands. Maybe sometimes the band have taken this commission too seriously. The likes of 'The Bad Thing' and 'Flourescent Adolescent' offer a too rare glimpse into the fun that it's possible to have when you're young and in a top rock n roll act. Expectations are high and perhaps Turner over-extends himself when he ventures beyond story telling to message giving. He doesn't need to try to be the spokesman for a generation, he can afford to leave that to someone else. But seriously, that is just knit picking.
So will the Arctic Monkey's prove themselves to the doubters with Favourite Worst Nightmare? Perhaps. Is this a great album? Maybe, though not definitely. Only time can hand out such accolades but respect and kudos needs to be awarded for giving it a valiant try. Are the Arctic Monkey's a great band? Again only time will tell but Favourite Worst Nightmare at least proves that they have the nous, talent and balls to one day deserve to be heralded as such.
14th May 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 3.5 star reviews
Brother Ali
The Undisputed Truth
The second full album from Brother Ali sees him turn a recent divorce, being a single dad and coping with losing his mother to cancer into more than a few tasty nuggets of hard hitting, intelligent hip hop. Since his debut Shadows On The Sun, Brother Ali has often become a breath of fresh air in this hip hop game blending well crafted lyrics with bass heavy, rolling beats. As a devout Muslim his raps have always been very earnest which set my alarm bells ringing from the start. While the constant tirade of thug rap bores the hell out of me there's something about rap with an overly positive message that makes me cringe, even if what they are saying is what I believe. But Brother Ali repeatedly avoids this pit fall often peppering this outlook with normal behavior like swearing and the odd bit of comedy.
To be honest, Shadows On The Sun blended these things more successfully and this album is starting to show signs of over-seriousness, a road Blackalicious took a while ago and their creativity has never recovered. A lot has happened to Ali since his debut which would explain this shift. His now ex-wife seems to have tried to kill him and her demise has left him in sole custody of his son, for the whole story see Walking Away. There has also been a war or two (Letter From The Government.)
But running through all this is what makes Brother Ali so individual, his flow. He has a style that can bring to mind Nelly or 50 Cent but is at the same time totally unique and with Atmosphere's Ant concocting deep, thundering beats the result is addictive. He can alter this style for slower beats (Here) making them intimate and then rise gloriously to beats like the awesome The Puzzle or the fierce Listen Up. The album is very well paced giving the listener time to recover with light numbers like Take Me Home and Uncle Sam Goddamn the kind of bumping swagger that would be ideal to bounce to in a low-ride ...if only my Nissan could handle it.
Though not quite so appealing as his debut, The Undisputed Truth is better than most and being an albino muslim rapper he can't help to make hip hop that looks at things differently. As long as he can keep his faith to a footnote and maintain his unique ability to spit the hard rhymes as well as the laid back tracks then he will continue to be a worthy light in these dark times.
14th May 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 3 star reviewsThe National
Boxer
Beggars
The National are a rare and special commodity indeed, they seem to exist in an alternate reality all of their own. They have an almost Teflon power to repel any concrete judgments that aim to stick to their ethereal outer surface. Though they never claim to make music that breaks boundaries, creatively they exist in a bubble. Their sound recalls artists like Nick Cave and Leonard Cohen but even as I write this my head's telling me "well not really." Artistically they follow their own path religiously. You would never catch Matt Berninger penning an openly anti-war lyric, instead he expertly crafts word groupings that defy imagination and meaning yet inspire a certain magical imagery that is totally unique to them. The write up on their myspace page puts it perfectly. "The band sings about the kind of dreams that ruin lives, and they make of those dreams the kind of music that saves them."
With Alligator, their 2005 debt for Beggars Banquet, The National pricked up the ears of music critics, bloggers and any one with a heart and at their London gig at Koko they looked openly stunned as the rapturous crowd sang along ecstatically to ever line. It's easy to create honest and unadulterated art in virtual obscurity but how do you do it when your last album genuinely changed lives? Well, Boxer is how.
This follow up contains not a single trace of self awareness. It is as honest and unique as its predecessor and for that reason is like discovering the band all over again. It uses Alligator as a starting point and goes deeper, plumbing newer and far more richer depths of sound and mood. Musically they show a remarkable maturity using great washes of strings to block in their dream-like landscape then send out a resounding boom across this land with pounding piano and the best drumming this band has ever produced.
From the outset it's pretty clear we're in for a treat. Fake Empire is just the kind of opener you want to hear from a band with this much expectation. A rumbling piano counts in Berninger's voice which is gloriously baritone and heralds the first glimpse of the awesome drumming we see so often on Boxer. Mistaken For Strangers has more bite to it, with chugging guitars accompanying the pounding drums. Songs like Green Gloves and Slow Slow just ooze from the speakers with thick, all consuming quality. Slow Slow's gently strummed structure ticks along with a majestic string accompaniment and ends up soaring on a beautifully toe-tapping rhythm. Matt Berninger writes with almost stream-of-consciousness fluidity and his strange tales of diamond slippers, gay ballets on ice and rosie minded fuzz seem to drip from his tongue with such ease that it's quite hypnotic. Unlike previous albums Berninger never raises his voice on Boxer and the blood curdling scream of songs like Sad Songs' Available and Alligator's Abel has all but vanished. Instead we get a voice almost unfathomable in depth which seems to be used as much as an instrument as a conveyor of narrative.
If I had to include one slight complaint it would be the choice of ending on the record. Gospel brings things to a close on a relatively week note especially as the song preceding it is so wonderful. In my opinion Ada would end this album with more of a lasting power with its haunting melancholia and gently simmering unease. But it seems foolish to dwell on this as you'll rarely be listening to this album once and pretty soon you'll have had it on repeat so often that you wont know how it ends.
This album has a strange power. Its depth is slow releasing and after the third play you'll wonder if someone has switched cd's on you. The myriad of layers encoded in its rich tapestry will reveal themselves to you with ever emerging magnificence until its overall splendor will have you open mouthed in awe and wonder. If it hasn't got you after the fifth listen then there's something wrong with your brain or your audio equipment. You can't do much about your brain but if it's the latter then I recommend hiring a Bentley for a weekend and giving it a go on that stereo. Believe me, it'll be worth every penny.
10th May 2007 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 4.5 star reviewsJoanna Newsom
Joanna Newsom and the Ys Street Band E.P.
Drag City
Last year I incurred some major flack for rewarding Joanna Newsom a flawless 5/5 for her remarkable second album Ys. Well I still stand by that decision and am tempted to give this 3 track EP the same accolade but feel it might alienate me from my fellow chimps who are yet to discover the magic of this artist. So call it peer pressure but I will not be giving this release full marks and I am not proud of my actions because it is yet another astounding piece of work by the young harpist.
This contains one new song and two old ones. All are without the orchestra that dominated Ys and are played live with her touring band. This totally changes the songs and gives them a much more folky sound. The new song Colleen is as joyous as any Irish jig you're likely to hear and conceptually could have played quite happily on Ys. The reworking of The Milk Eyed Mender's Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie gives this song new depths by adding accompanying vocals by drummer Neil Morgan and it leads on to the stripped down version of Ys' Cosmia. This version is so impressive as it shows a drastic progression from the original sound in this short period. Using guitars and banjos this song is stripped of all it's orchestral grandeur and the result is just as moving. It has been almost doubled in length and the final half is a beautiful instrumental of harp and guitar which fades out to a whisper bringing this brief delight to a sublime close.
8th May 2007 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 4 star reviewsDave Derby
...And The Norfolk Downs
Reveal Records
Being a paid up member of both fraternities I see certain similarities between the lot of a music fan and a singleton on the dating scene. Having fallen head over heels before both are ever optimistically on a quest for new loves. Each new date or act that comes by could be 'the one' but even if not hopefully there will be some fun to be had along the way. And all singletons know that to find the 'one' it is necessary to kiss a few frogs or spend a few nights on mattresses rendered uncomfortable by the strategic placement of a rock hard pea. Listening to Dave Derby reminded me of blind dates, and in particular ones that were not very successful. Dave Derby is not a prince dressed up as a frog, he's just a frog.
As with any blind date the agreement to listen to Dave was undertaken in good faith. Aside from getting the gender wrong in this case I decided to proceed on the basis that the match making skills of the Chimpomatic machine have served me well in the past. The prospects of a suitable hook up were not harmed by pre-date reports that Dave Derby was akin to Ryan Adams, a man who's music is often hit and miss but can verge on the sublime when it hit mode. The date had a promising start too. The introductory seconds of opener 'Come on Come on' echoed Neil Young's 'Out on the weekend' - the beguiling introduction to his classic album Harvest. The initial mood lulled me into believing that maybe Dave Derby could be the one, it had something of the sweet melancholy of Beck's Seachange about it - promising as this was one of my more recent loves. So like a date, where the mood is right, the introduction reliable, the venue cool and the company looking good I was confident this could be a night to saviour. That is until Dave opened his mouth.
The problem with Dave Derby is that his voice is rather middle of the road and consequently boring - after a while it becomes something of an endless drone. It is the musical equivalent of glazing over the eyes and hearing almost nothing said by your dinner companion. Even when the effort is made to tune it to what is actually being spoken the lyrical rhymes are lazily predictable ("baby what am I gonna do, I just don't know how I'll get over you"). Though he tries to be edgy and left-field the prevailing sense is of a sentimentality typified by 'You Got to Go' that would be a little to syrupy for Jack Johnson or even the Lighthouse Family. It all just reminded me of a date with no passion or spark. OK, so love may not be on the agenda but a little adventure wouldn't go a miss. If only I had thought to arrange a call from a friend giving me an 'escape early' get out clause from this bad date.
After a full listen to '...And the Norfolk Downs' I assessed the album as one does after a bad date. Maybe the problem wasn't with them, maybe it was me, perhaps I was in the wrong frame of mind, or maybe I just didn't give them a fair crack of the whip? After all it would be harsh to say Dave Derby was entirely without charm. The drumming on songs like 'Albuquerque' has a languid almost lazily hypnotic feel. The hammond organ on 'Baby' briefly does its best to brighten things up. And occasionally, such as on 'My Back Issues', Dave is canny enough to know that he wants to sound like Willy Mason even if he doesn't quite know how to. So being the fair minded type I am I gave Dave another chance, and, in the interests of reviewing accurately, a few more chances too. But as with dates, I should've trusted my gut instinct rather than give into eternal optimism. Dave Derby is still a frog and won't turn into a prince no matter how many times you kiss or listen to him.
7th May 2007 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
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Lavender Diamond
Imagine Our Love
Rough Trade
Hot on the heels of February's Cavalry Of Light EP comes this debut album from LA based Lavender Diamond.
Things start well with opening track Oh No taking a simple lyric "When will I love again" and repeating it over and over - pounding it home and giving the words untold emotion and power. Lead single Open Your Heart is also highlight and it comes as little surprise that Decemberists vocalist Colin Meloy is a big fan (providing a cover of the same track as a b-side on the single) as is Devendra Banhart The eclectic styles of those two references provide some idea of the scenes this band have come out of. The band is most clearly defined in that ever expanding genre of undefinable. Becky Stark's vocals are the focus of the entire album and they are surrounded by a multitude of style and influences.
The bass and piano of Open Your Heart have a near showtune sound ("Downtown!"), there are touches of opera, musicals, and a hefty dose of Carole King and Brill Building nostalgia (wait, didn't I say all this last time? Maybe they're not so hard to define after all). Like An Arrow uses the old repeating lyrics game again, but this time with a more low-key effect, and things pick up again with the catchy pop of Here Comes One - another highlight.
Starks' vocals are undoubtedly fantastic, and the album makes a very pleasant listen that would be perfect dinner party sound-tracking. Unfortunately that's not enough, and the EP having stolen away some of the better tracks. They don't do anything wrong here, it's just that the excitement and originality of the EP is lost and the tracks here already seem less ambitious and slightly stale. After 51 minutes the undefinable just starts to sound a little too familiar.
You can listen to 4 tracks here (all in Windows Media format):
Open Your Heart
Oh No
Like An Arrow
Here Comes One
7th May 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
Read more 3 star reviewsDeath Vessel
Stay Close
ATP Recordings
Any band with the word ‘death’ in the title might instantly make you think: “metal”, “licks” and “German”. And, with ATPs latest act, Death Vessel, you’d be right on two counts.
Main man Joel Thibodeau, who was born in Deutschland, can certainly pluck some rifts out of his acoustic guitar. However, rather than turning up on Kerrang FM, his bands brand of “neo-traditional folk” is more likely to be played by Andy Kershaw on Radio 3.
Their 10 Track debut album, ‘Stay Close’, strays far away from any hint of “metal” with the most notable difference being the deep howl of rock vocals being replaced by the incredible soprano voice of your man Joel.
His voice sounds like this sentence should begin with “her voice” or end with “his balls haven’t dropped”. Seriously, it’s quite something, quite eerie, quite Sigur Ros like… or bjorkesque if, like me, you think you’ve been lied to on the press release. Whatever though, his voice is, as they might say in the deep south, purty.
The deep south reference not only serves to make me chuckle, but also hints at the type of tunes you’re getting here - you should prepare yourself for some proper rambling hoe downs. A majority of the tracks bounce cheerfully along with a country feel to it, and that vibe is strongest on ‘Mandan Dink’ where both banjos and vocals duel in this playful ruck up. In fact, the vocal harmonies act as confederate flags for the better parts of the album - such as on ‘Later In Life Lift’ and ‘Break The Empress Crown’.
The finest song on the album though, ‘Snow Don’t Fall’, reinforces that when Death Vessel keep it to a simple, sparse, atmospheric arrangement, the stage is set for some lovely guitar work to compliment Thibodeaus’ unique vocals.
While there are a few moments where you’re left wishing they would step it up a notch, enough of the tunes on this inventive album get stuck in your head to make this one ‘stay close’ to the top of the CD pile for a while.
4th May 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet
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Plate Six
Battle Hymns For A New Republic
One Little Indian
This is more like it. In these hostile times, with the man who gives monkeys a bad name hovering his unopposable thumb over the button, you’d have thought there would be more anger and aggression coming to the musical fore. Sure, there have been numerous songs of discontent, but in lacking an edge they come across as a slow-handclap from the W.I. To be honest I don’t even know if Alabama’s Plate Six are pissed off with señor Bush per se - but they are damned pissed about something. Their record is called Battle Hymns For A New Republic, a manifesto backed up by their music; music at the frontline, heavily armed with sonic molotovs.
It comes as no surprise that they are inspired by Fugazi. After a 50 second opening of feedback (buckle up kids), singer David Hickox’s call-to-arms shout on As The Pinson Turns is eerily similar to Fugazi front man Ian Mackaye - and yes, Plate Six are worthy of being mentioned in the same snarl as the DC legends. Deeming a bassist unnecessary, Hickox, fellow guitarist Darryl Jacks and drummer Brad Davis rip through 11 tracks without letting the pace slack, closing with the 11 minute epic Maximalist Anthem. It’s powerful, adrenalin charged stuff - but not just for the sake of it. The interplay between the two guitars and the excellence of the drumming gives each tune it's individual hook.
Along with Fugazi, Plate Six cite the wandering guitar work of Polvo and the noise and chaos of Sonic Youth as influences. They also remind me of another of my Hall-of-Famers, At The Drive In - who could do pissed-off better than anyone. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of music out at the moment is nice enough, but maybe too nice - the aural equivalent of sticking your head in the sand. Battle Hymns For A New Republic grabs your head out of the sand, shakes it by the ears and gets your hearts and minds rocking hard.
Watch the video for Instant Fence: Windows / Quicktime
1st May 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet
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