Chimpomatic

I Heart Huckabees

(dir. David O. Russell)

How am I not myself?

Billed as an existential detective comedy, Russell's film errs on the side of wackiness, but works on the whole. V enjoyable performances from Dustin Hoffman and Lily Tomlin as the detectives investigating eco-activist Jason Schwartzman's psyche and a string of coincidences that may or may not be meaningful. They make a great couple - you kind of wonder why no-one's paired them up before. Some nice fantasy moments where corporate man Jude Law gets hacked by a machete.

Floats along without hitting that Wes Anderson groove where an offbeat world really kicks into its own gear so that you don't worry about the self-conscious goofiness. The sort of film you can be fond of without really loving, which is a shame as I had higher hopes. Good character performances from Naomi Watts, Isabelle Huppert and Mark "don't call me Marky" Wahlberg.

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29th Apr 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Broken Family Band

Balls

Please refer to everything I said about this band in the review of their previous album but just add balls. This album keeps us guessing even more. The opening track lets us know that this ain't gonna be another straight-up country offering. It’s pure rock, and kicks things off nicely. It’s another hate filled masterpiece that has it’s grubby little fingers in many genres. Fantastic stuff.

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28th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The New Pornographers

Twin Cinema

I really can’t understand why everybody is wetting themselves over this album. Pitchfork gave it 9/10. That means it’s one point off Wilco’s A Ghost Is Born. No chance. It’s so flat and unoriginal. Vocals are uninspiring and, as CSF rightly pointed out, songs like My Street sound like an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, and not even a good one like Starlight Express, which ruled. I am however reserving judgement and if I come around to popular opinion then I will rewrite this review but until that time the official statement from Chimpomatic HQ is that it sucks.

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28th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Various (Domino) Artists

They’ll Have To Catch Us First

Though nowhere near as comprehensive as 2003's Worlds Of Possibilities this is nice little update on the goings on at Domino. Not many surprises as most of the best bits I already have but a stand out track from Archie Bronson Outfit and Clearlake make it all worthwhile. Old favourites include Tortoise and Bonnie Prince Billy, The Kills and Sons and Daughters. All in all a good listen and some future avenues to pursue.

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28th Apr 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Broken Family Band

Welcome Home Losers

This band is great and they really shouldn’t be. They just don’t stick to the rules and that pisses me off. I first discovered them on a Rough Trade ‘Country’ compilation and that’s where you would expect to find them, not in Cambridge which is where they are from. But they sound so damn country, and what pisses me off more is that they make great country music. This record is packed full of sadness and bitterness and delivered with such irony that it is surprisingly upbeat. It is tongue-in-cheek like The Hansome Family and sounds like the secret diary musings of a man who has had so much crap dumped on him from various relationships that he is left with no other option than to see the funny side of life. I suppose this is their English side coming out. Bravo.

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28th Apr 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Green Street

(dir. Lexi Alexander)

Or what Frodo did next. Tired of mixing it with Orcs and the like, it turns out he decided to test his skills against an altogether different fighting challenge; the football hooligans of England.

Promising journalist Matt (Elijah Wood) gets set-up and thrown out of Harvard, so he heads to London to catch up with his sister. Thanks to her brother-in-law, he wastes no time getting in with a West Ham ‘firm’ and into a series of pitched battles with rival supporters. When I say he wastes no time, literally on the same day he sets foot in Heathrow he later has his teeth knocked out by a Birmingham City thug.

It’s an interesting idea, what attracts young men to the world of football violence, but I’m sure it has been done better elsewhere. The shoe-horning of an American tourist into the story doesn’t sit comfortably, it feels that the desire to get a Hollywood name on-board comes at the expense of deeper analysis into the minds of the gang members.

The supporting chavs are believable with special mentions to Mark E. Smith lookalike ‘Bovver’ and Geoff Bell, who gives another fine display of London menace (as previously seen in The Business). However, the film is let down by the casting of the leads. Considering he has a psychotic aversion to ‘Yanks and Foreigners’ the leader of the gang talks like a South African Tim Westwood and Elijah Wood looks as lost as, well, as an American trying to understand the offside rule.

Certainly not a date movie and probably more suited to a well-scripted TV drama, it’s better than a kick in the teeth and there are certainly plenty of those in the 90 odd minutes.

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28th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Business

(dir. Nick Love)

If Goodfellas was a painting it would be a Masterpiece. Now, imagine you reduced that painting to a line drawing and invited a load of 6 year old Peckham school kids to colour it in with their crayons. Chances are you’ll end up with The Business. With it’s rise and fall of a gangster story, voiceover and freeze frames, it throws much more than a cheeky wink in the direction of Scorsese’s classic.

Back in the Thatcher years, scoundrel Frankie gets in a bit of trouble with the law and heads to Spain’s Costa del Crime to lay low for a while. On arrival he quickly aquaints himself with the neighbourhood villains and embarks on a sun-filled life of birds, drugs and crime. As he makes his way up the ladder, our man Frankie wears a permanently confused expression; whether taking his 6th line of coke of the morning, having a shotgun pointed at him or being explicitly propositioned by the pretty femme fatale he constantly looks as if he is trying to make sense of Hebrew. It’s somewhat suprising therefore that Frankie eventually becomes Mr. Big, with a direct link to Colombia. The 80’s were indeed ker-ayzee! He’s surrounded by equally wooden pastiches of Sarf Landan gangsters, so much so that I was expecting Harry Enfield and Paul Whitehouse to turn up and launch into a routine “You Slag!” “You Muppet!” “You Slag!”etc, etc.

The attention to detail with the costumes and music is a nice touch, and to be fair ginger-haired gangster Sammy does come across as properly hard. But this is a bad film. So bad, that it is completely watchable, if you know what I mean. Luvverly!

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26th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Pearl Jam

London Astoria

As one of the last gigs on my list of all-time favourite bands, having not seen these guys had always nagged at me. I had been too poor as a student, out of the country for one tour and then after the death of some fans at the Roskilde festival in 2000, Europe had been off rotation for the last couple of Pearl Jam world tours. I was resigned to eventually seeing the band at the enormo-arena-dome some time past their peak - and convincing myself that I wasn't disappointed.

Recently, things started to look up. A well invested fan club membership led to a great 7 inch single, but the golden ticket was a heads-up on this one-off warm up show at London's Astoria. Chimp Jnr managed to snag the tickets, which sold out in 1 minute and ended up going for £450 on eBay. It crossed our minds to cash them in and fly out to Seattle, but even there a 20,000 seat Arena could not offer the same opportunity as a 1600 seat venue on home turf.

The gig had a quick turnaround and before we knew it we were queuing down the side of the Astoria, round Soho Square and back onto Oxford Street. Some of the eBay tickets had apparently been confiscated, so some persistent fans did get a chance to get last minute surprise re-sale tickets on the door. The touts dropped their tickets to £250, while security guards checked the ticket numbers as some fakes had been circulated.

The atmosphere in the queue and inside the venue was electric. It obviously wasn't just us that had been holding out to see them, and when the band came out the place went crazy. A quick acknowledgment that it had been a long time set the scene, and then we're off with new single World Wide Suicide. As noted, this is a bad title, but as a song it was a great start - thundering, off new album Pearl Jam, but still one that the fans could get into. That was followed by Life Wasted and Severed Hand from the new album, which subdued the crowd slightly as they are still relatively unknown.... Two more new songs followed, but these were current b-side Unemployable and Christmas b-side Gone, which is already one of my current favourites. So things were picking up, and then they really took off with Even Flow.

From then on things only got better and better. The band pulled highlights and rarities from their 15 year back catalogue, such as Sad, I Am Mine, Leavin' Here and Given To Fly mixed in with a couple of the new tracks. There was a healthy dose of revived songs from black-sheep album Ten (which out sold Nevermind for you haters out there) including an awesome ramped up version of Why Go? The Indie Goth Revival is over, long live Grunge.

The highlight had to be an impromptu sing along to Betterman, where Eddie Vedder literally hardly sang a word. The entire crowd took over in a spine tingling moment, reminiscent of Black on the Benaroya Hall album. Visibly moved by the crowd response, the band came back for two encores until finally the end had come, as Mike McCready plucked the opening notes of traditional set-closer Yellow Ledbetter. Everyone sang along and the band even dropped in a few notes of Nobody's Fault But Mine as a nod to Robert Plant, who was in the crowd with his son. After a bow the band started to leave the stage, before the overwhelming reaction from the audience genuinely changed their minds. Eddie Vedder called them back for one more... a storming rendition of Alive. As one of their only UK hits, this is often how they are perceived by those who know little of their later work. It was an unashamedly 90's moment, and I realised that after 15 years of progressing onwards they are now looking as much like the grunger's of the early 90's as ever.... and I love it.

All in all it couldn't have been a much more satisfactory conclusion to my quest.... although thanks to a man on the inside we are off to see them taping Later with Jools Holland tonight.

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25th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Pearl Jam

Pearl Jam

Pearl Jam have a knack of sounding like a muscle car cruising down an empty road in Montana. Masters of the key/pace change, they often shift up and down gears, speeding up and slowing down but always sticking to the road.

While Life Wasted and World Wide Suicide are great openers (except for the title "World Wide Suicide" - definitely a case for 'keep the title out of the lyrics') rocking all the shift change tricks, it's not until six songs in that we get a real change of style - with Parachutes. Similar in tone to the Stones' track of the same name, this great little number is much more in the vein of 1996's No Code.

Things get more more varied on what would have been side two in the vinyl days, with Gone being the gem on the album. It's Pearl Jam at their best, using a simple quiet start to build up the emotion and sound into an awesome wall of noise.

Army Reserve is one song that doesn't quite click, somehow sounding like the U2-style jangling guitar was written separately from the lyrics, but the album finishes with two excellent tracks. Come Home sounds like a cover of a lost classic by Smokey Robinson or Otis Redding and is the band at their best. Inside Job, written by guitarist Mike McCready, is a moody slow burner. Staying just the right side of Dire Straits, the song would fit well on a movie soundtrack and brings the album to a worthy close.

The album is definitely a democratic effort and the input of the entire band leans the sound down the more conventional end of the Pearl Jam spectrum - generally sounding more like Yield or Riot Act than Vitalogy or No Code. That's never a criticism with these guys however and although not as lyrical as some of their work it's a solid, thoroughly enjoyable rock album from a band totally assured of their craft.

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25th Apr 2006 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Spank Rock

Yoyoyoyoyo

I am all about Baltimore at the moment. Granted I am three seasons late, but The Wire is rocking my world and so is this album. Baltimore’s Spank Rock are the new signing to Big Dada and they have gone and made the most exciting hip hop I have heard since the last Anticon offering. Unlike the Anticon posse it doesn’t take itself seriously at all. It sounds like a cross between Tag Team’s ‘Woop there it is’ Antipop Consortium and a fair dose of 2 Live Crew. It’s low down and it’s dirty.

MC Spank Rock’s chief concerns here range from the contents of a woman’s biker shorts to his less than admirable intentions as to what to do with said contents once he has acquired them. Song titles like 'Back Yard Betty','Coke & Wet' and 'Screwville, USA' tell the whole story yet despite this it is a very intelligent piece of work with amazing production. It is very tongue-in-cheek (which cheek? I hear you ask, and you would be right to) but not in a gimmicky Darkness way, more in a Licence to Ill kind of way.

To put it bluntly it’s just really good fun and the beats alone will get you stripper dancing in no time. So lets all repeat after me “Tap dat ass, c’mon Tap dat ass.”

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24th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Jel

Soft Money

It’s great to see someone who is constantly helping out everyone else finally do something for themselves. And that is exactly what we have here. Having created the beats for some of the most memorable Anticon records including Subtle and Themselves, Jel now gives us his first solo LP. And it’s good.

I have read comparisons to DJ Shadow and even Massive Attack, but that is to misunderstand this album. It has a totally different agenda. At heart it is a straight up hip hop album - the beats are rich, heavy and hold your interest long after many other instrumentalists have lost it. You really come to understand just how Anticon can make such beguiling music when all the vocals have gone and the beats stand alone. And stand alone they certainly do, especially on WMD, one of the few vocal numbers. As you can guess, this is an anti-Bush barrage of abuse but the beat is so damn fine that even Dubya himself would find it hard to keep his foot from tappin'.

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24th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

This album took a few plays to really get it but then it just seemed to click and I went from finding it slightly annoying to thinking it was the greatest thing I had heard for ages. And it is. Granted it starts off bad but the second song gets the greatness well under way. A lot of bands have emerged recently that quote Talking Heads as their main influence but none sound as similar as this one, yet despite that it is one of the most original records to grace my eager ears. Details Of The War was a stand out track from the start. As is quite common throughout the album the song construction is the interesting thing with its lack of any verse/chorus/verse structure and the lazy ‘I really can’t be bothered’ vocals building up slowly on a rolling bass line to a fantastic peak. The Skin Of My Yellow Country Teeth follows on nicely. It has a certain nostalgic sound to it with a very New Order bass line and towards the end it threatens to disappear off into a mammoth Wedding Present style guitar solo but sadly not many bands have the balls for this.

I really could go on to talk about each track as there is something to note about every one but I may as well skip to the last one as it simply rules. Upon This Tidal Wave Of Young Blood is an awesome piece of work. It starts off with a guitar strumming pace that will get every head nodding and foot tapping in audible range. Alec Ounsworth’s vocals glide in with expert ease and we are off. The pace stays the same to the very end as the vocals trail off into what should be a very grating repetition of “child stars, child stars, child stars…” This song sounds like it could go on at this pace for another 15 minutes at least and really it should but instead it stops abruptly as if your mum has come into the room and can’t stand any more of this guys voice and pulls the plug.

And really that is what we should all be doing but we aren’t. We love it despite our brains yelling how annoying it should be. This band has received so much word-of-mouth hype and for once it is all well placed. Clap your hands and say fuck yeah. (sorry for the cuss word but I feel it was necessary..)

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24th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Ocean's 12

(dir. Steven Soderbergh)

After bad guy Andy Garcia tracks down the crew who robbed his casino in Ocean's 11, Danny Ocean (George Clooney) and pals (plus one extra person - get it?) stage a series of robberies to raise the money to pay off Garcia. Problems come in the shape of a French master cat burglar (Vincent Cassell), who revels in beating Clooney's gang to the punch, and an Interpol agent how had a fling with the cheeky Brad Pitt (surprisingly likeable here).

The film is very stylishly done, shrugging off the glossy style that you would expect for so many huge names and instead using a low-key European-looking documentary style (a bit like the excellent Bourne Identity), with editing and simple trickery to keep the pace moving. Straight off the bat however, the script is so engrossed in its own cleverness that it is instantly hard to follow. Little attention is given to setting up the characters - which is fine for Clooney, Brad Pitt, maybe Matt Damon - but the rest of the supporting gang were not that memorable in episode 1 (or 11). A potential clever twist with Bruce Willis where Julia Roberts' character is mistaken for actress Julia Roberts is so smugly done that the actors practically wink at the camera...

It's watchable, but unless you're flying long haul don't bother.

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24th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Loose Fur

Born Again In The USA

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

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

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

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11th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Calexico

Garden Ruin

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

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

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11th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Britt Daniel & Bright Eyes

Home: Volume IV

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

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11th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou

(dir. Wes Anderson)

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

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

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

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

Pink Mountaintops

Axis Of Evol

Jagjaguwar

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

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

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10th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The National

Alligator

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

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

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

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

Spoon

Gimme Fiction

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

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

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

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10th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

My Latest Novel

Wolves

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

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

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

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

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5th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Show Your Bones

Wichita

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

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

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

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

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5th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Wilco

A Ghost Is Born

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

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

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

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

Why?

Elephant Eyelash

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

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

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

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5th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Shakti

Colston Hall - Bristol

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

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3rd Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Bright Eyes

I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning

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

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

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23rd Mar 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Elizabethtown

(dir. Cameron Crowe)

After losing $1 Billion on behalf of the Oregon-based sneaker company (?!) he works for, hotshot designer Orlando Bloom thinks about killing himself - before the death of his father leads him on a journey of self-discovery to check out his roots in old Kentucky. On the way he meets a hottie airline steward (Kirsten Dunst), who makes him realise just how swell life can be.

It could have been a lot quicker if he'd succeeded with the early suicide, as this was pretty painful for all involved. The basic premise is a bit cheesy, but could have been really well done in an indie movie. Cameron Crowe's heavy handed recent form just pummels any glimmer of hope into distant oblivion, aided and abetted by the truly awful Orlando Bloom and a pretty average Kirsten Dunst. I only realised quite how bad the acting had been when an OK scene from Susan Sarandon seemed like the best acting I had seen in years.

Musical references are squeezed into the film at every unsuitable moment but the highlight was, of course, My Morning Jacket's appearance as the cousin's reformed band 'Ruckus', who play a blinding cover of Freebird as a tribute to the old man at his funeral.

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20th Mar 2006 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Walk The Line

(dir. James Mangold)

Biopic of the young Johnny Cash, following his upbringing by his tough father following the death of his brother, his start in the music business, his being offered drugs by Elvis' cronies, addiction and constant pursuit of hottie singer June Carter.

Joachim Phoenix was nothing special and I can see why he missed out on the Oscar nod. Unfortunately the same goes for Reese Witherspoon, both were OK and you could even assume they put in reasonable impressions of their characters, it was just that the story itself itself just wasn't that interesting. There was no real drama, goal or end point and in fact it pretty much just finished after the famous Folsom prison show.

The execution was very dull, and cliched... so much so that I thought the first half was simply setting up things for some kind of dark twist which never came. When things were hard it was raining, when they were good everything was sunny. I expected more from James Mangold after Copland... but then he did also bring us Identity. He meanders us through the story, broadcasting the drama to us in cliched and obvious ways (on the phone: "Stop cryin', I can hardly hear what your saying!") and then it just comes to a fairly abrupt but not unwelcome end.

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14th Mar 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

V For Vendetta

(dir. James McTeigue)

Another film mining the genius of Alan Moore. And yet again, it misses the mark and makes you want to read the comic again (or should - if you haven't read it already, it's still worth a look).

This isn't as bad as the League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen or Hellblazer (haven't got round to From Hell yet). Despite a wandering Brit accent, Natalie Portman is basically ok throughout, and Hugo Weaving does a pretty interesting job behind V's mask - thankfully they resist the urge to take it off, Judge Dredd style. As it's copied from a drawing, this is actually one of the better things about the adaptation - it really looks like him.

The main problem is the muddled updating of what was basically a very time-specific attack on Thatcher's Britain. Ian Hurt works as a ranting British fascist, but it somehow seems too easy in a pantomime villain way - the evil dictators we've ended up with in real life smile a lot more.

Having a terrorist as the hero of a mainstream film is obviously going to be "shocking" for the Fox-watching demographic in the states, but the morality is still fairly clear-cut here - he's fighting an evil totalitarian Britain that's anti-gay, anti-Muslim, even anti-film, so it's not too much of a stretch to get us on his side.

The trailer makes it look like it's going to ramp up the Wachiowski-style action, but there's actually not that much - it's a much more static outing than the Matrix (although the philosphy floats closely to that level of debate at times).

Having had a quick scan of the comic again, I'm not sure it's one of my favourite Moore works any more - loved it at the time, but was never that into the art for some reason, and he's done so much that's better since - and admits as much in the accompanying essay. Watchmen's still the obvious work of unparalleled class, but his recent stuff for ABC has been great too - Top Ten, Promethea and Tom Strong especially.

It's also worth noting that Moore's been hardcore about his insistence that his name isn't anywhere on the film. Check his wiki entry for a lowdown on the on-going feud. He doesn't even get paid for having his work bastardised.

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8th Mar 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

Sala Heineken - Madrid

Halfway through their set, support band Dr. Dog announce that this is the last date of their European tour with Clap Your Hands Say Yeah and give thanks for the opportunity of getting overseas and on the road with the lengthily titled headliners. And then it makes sense. They must be knackered. Having been pretty much blown away the last time I saw Dr. Dog, I couldn’t figure out why this show seemed so flat. The audience were smiling along, clearly amused by the idiot antics of the goofy frontmen kitted out in shades and woolly hats. But there was something missing, this was a performance that suggested ‘Just one more, then we’re out of here’.

The same could apply to the hugely anticipated CYHSY. Desperate punters, begging for tickets outside in the rain, hinted that the levels of hype already witnessed in their native New York and more recently London had spread to Spain. Opening with the first ’song’ on the album (not the eponymous vaudevillian number) and finishing with its closer and highlight Upon This Tidal Wave of Young Blood, with a few new tracks in between, they put on a solid show. But that was it: solid. A large part of the album’s appeal is the sense of character and fun running through it and I imagined the live show would capture this. But a largely static backing band flanked tired/shy singer Alec Ounsworth, as they worked through the numbers. This is not to say it was disappointing; the songs themselves are strong enough to grab and hold the attention, his unique vocals certainly captivate and being joined onstage by Dr. Dog and friends for the encore was definately a high point (quite literally as a Dog guitarist performed an exemplary solo from the shoulders of a burly roadie). Overall, would be worth checking out again - just to see how they operate with a full tank of gas.

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28th Feb 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Grizzly Man

(dir. Werner Herzog)

Could failing to get the part of Woody on Cheers really drive a man to turn his back on being human? This is one of the more bizarre questions that Werner Herzog's Grizzly Man poses in its troubled margins. The documentary tells the tale of a failed actor, Timothy Treadwell, who spent many summers living among grizzly bears in the Alaskan wilderness. Holed up in a worryingly basic tent, Treadwell filmed many hours of himself in his self-appointed role of guardian of the bears, and Herzog has used that footage as the foundation of his own take on events. To describe Treadwell as the guardian of the bears is, in fact, not strictly accurate, for it soon emerges that he actually saw himself as one of the bears, no longer human. There are, accordingly, some truly astonishing scenes in which he is face to face with the creatures, and some even more bewildering moments at which he even loses his temper with them and tells them to back off, which they do. From a very early point in the film, though, we know that Treadwell eventually dies in his tent, along with his girlfriend, at the hands of a bear. Even though there is an audio recording of the fatal attack (it would appear that Treadwell didn't have time to remove the lens cap), Herzog decides, in a moving scene, not to include it in his film. And this is very much a documentary that is more interested in opening than closing a case. Herzog is absolutely clear in his narration about where he disagrees with Treadwell - he says, for instance, in an unintentionally hilarious moment that, unlike Timothy, he believes that the universe is nothing but chaos and bleakness - and he poses some uncomfortable questions about Treadwell's disavowal of the human and, above all, his staged self-mythologizing. (It would seem, for instance, that some of the footage was shot deliberately to give the impression that Timothy was always alone in the wilderness, even though he was regularly accompanied.) There are also many moments at which the interviews conducted by Herzog feel curiously contrived. The coroner who reports on the aftermath of the attack, for example, delivers a dramatic monologue to camera that feels (but might not be) meticulously scripted and over-rehearsed. That's not a criticism of Herzog's film, though; it's merely one of the elements that gives Grizzly Man its claws.

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28th Feb 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Twin Peaks Season One

(dir.David Lynch and others)

What's up, doc? I have just raced through all of season 1 of Twin Peaks in a couple of days. This is the first time that I've revisited it since it aired on TV in 1990. It's still great, and Cooper is still one of the greatest characters ever to appear upon our screens, but it was *very* odd to watch it in such a condensed time period. What I remember about watching it first time around is weekly mass viewings in halls of residence that took up almost all of a term. (Chimp71 might even remember the occasion on which we had to bribe people to join the Twin Peaks gang, just so that we outnumbered the people who wanted to watch something on the other channel in the TV room. And then there was the night on which we really couldn't make up the numbers, which led to far too many people piling into my room to watch the show on my ancient, unreliable B&W portable TV). Stretching the viewing experience out over a couple of months clearly made season 1 feel more epic than it actually is - I really felt this time around that it was a small, perfectly-formed, tightly-plotted gem. And my memory clearly can't be trusted: I remember lots of visits to 'the red room', but there's just *one* in the whole series. I'm assuming that the scenes I've remembered are from season 2, so we'll just have to wait for that to appear on DVD.

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27th Feb 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Constant Gardener

(dir. Fernando Meirelles)

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

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

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

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

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

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24th Feb 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The New World

(dir. Terrence Malick)

As the first European settlers land in Virginia and begin to build the Jamestown colony, a native princess (Q'Orianka Kilcher) falls in love with rogueish adventurer - Captain Smith (Colin Farrell). As the two civilizations begin to understand each other, tensions mount and different mentalities drive them apart.

Anybody who has seen Terrence Malick's previous films will have a good idea what to expect here; long, slow shots of nature, extensive use of music to set the pace, disjointed, montage style editing and fairly minimal dialogue. You're either going to like that or you're not - and while I would rate The Thin Red Line as one of my personal favourites, I must admit that this one took me a while to sink into.

The initial tension of the European's arrival was handled well, but it was clear from the start that this film had been reduced in length and scope from what it could have been. Several name actors were spotted, but they often had little dialogue. Or none at all in the case of Ben Chaplin. The romance between Smith and Pocahontas popped up pretty quickly from nowhere, and then he was off. Considering this was only Terrence Mallick's second film in 7 years he could have benefited by giving himself a little extra time and space.

Things paid off nicely later, and the film found it's feet with the introduction of Christian Bale's character John Rolfe. He bridged the gap between the two cultures, and the narrative that developed was undoubtedly built strongly upon the previous scenes.

The contrast between nature and man, and then the almost alien contact between the two worlds of men form the heart of this unconventional film. The mood and atmosphere created in this film is amazing. Forget about convention and what you think you should be seeing and just relax and enjoy the ride.

Apparently the DVD will be 'extended'.

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21st Feb 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Syriana

(dir. Stephen Gaghan)

A beefed-up George Clooney plays a CIA agent worrying his bosses back in Washington with his rogue memo action. Matt Damon's a clean-cut oil consultant slowly getting his hands dirty out in the field. Jeffrey Wright's chasing a paper trail filled with dodgy Texan oil barons all wanting to keep controlling the oil and make sure the petrodollars are coming back to them and not floating off to China or the middle east.

Like Traffic (some of the same team worked on this), Crash, Magnolia etc, this is a film that jumps from one set of characters to another, building a global picture of an amoral industry. It works best as a mood piece, but it's pretty slow, and doesn't quite kick into the level of other studies of corporate corruption like The Insider for example. Still, it's good to see a film actually discussing the oil problem, and getting angry about the madness. Clooney's solid as ever, and the Texan oil cabal guys get some suitably pal-of-Bush style rants.

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20th Feb 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Hidden (Cache)

(dir. Michael Haneke)

We’re all under constant surveillance, so why not add another level to the panopticon by watching Cache/Hidden..? In the grand tradition of Rear Window, The Conversation, Blow-Up, and Lost Highway, Michael Haneke’s latest film gleefully undermines the viewer’s understanding of what s/he is looking at (and why), and its opening shot is even bolder than the slow zoom that starts The Conversation. (I do love a director’s who’s not afraid just to leave the camera running.) About halfway through the film, I was still wondering ‘Where on earth is this going?’, and I’m happy to say that the final reel provides no answers. The glorious opening shot is, moreover, outdone by an even braver closing scene, in which a fleck of sense briefly emerges from meaningless bustle, only to disappear again. Is this a film about celebrity, surveillance, the war on terror, the turmoils of family life, France’s colonial past, memory, generational conflict, guilt, film itself, or all of the above? The answer is hidden.

PS: Don’t see the film at Cardiff’s Chapter Arts Centre, though, or you’ll have to first sit through a four-minute short starring Rhys Ifans and a Mars Bar. (I’ve conveniently repressed the name of the piece, I’m afraid, but it might have been Siocled – Welsh for ‘chocolate’.) The only good thing to come out of this experience was the realization that I can now definitively answer the questions ‘What is the most annoying film ever made?’ and ‘What were the longest four minutes of your life?’

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20th Feb 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Brakes

Give Blood

I've been reassessing the Brakes album Give Blood on the back of Clap Your Hands' recent acceptance into chimp rotation. The good news is, I was hasty in dismissing them so early. It's a mixed bag sounding a bit like Pavement, a bit like Galaxie 500 in places, a bit like Clap Your Hands, and even a bit like Operation Ivy - but still retaining something quite English... she was earning 10 grand, p.a.

It's not a heavy concept album, but it is just a bit like a bunch of guys playing fun songs and having a good time.

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15th Feb 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Spartan

(dir. David Mamet)

A Secret Service agent (Val Kilmer) is called in to lead the investigation into the inadvertent kidnapping of the President's daughter by white slave traders.

Playing out like a high-brow, super-condensed, 100 minute version of an entire series of 24 (it's not that hard, drop the Presidential sub-plot, Kim Bauer and most of the explanatory dialogue), this super taught thriller from David Mamet was a refreshing take on the action/adventure genre. Val Kilmer makes an enigmatic lead, generally dishing out ("don't make me zero you out") or even totally dispensing with Mamet's snappy dialogue and just getting on with the job at hand. Characters pop up and go with little introduction and we only ever hear what is heard by the men in the field... but that feeling of being on the inside only adds to the immediacy of the situations the Ice Man finds himself in. The riviting pace and atmosphere make this one not to be missed.

"I am dangerous" Grr.

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7th Feb 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Black Crowes

Madison Square Garden, NYC

Despite the deeply traumatic MMJ no show, we decided to be brave and give it a go. Within about ten minutes we were questioning the wisdom of this decision. Walking in half way through the support act; someone callling himself Trey Anastasio. JESUS CHRIST. Freeform Fratboy jazz rock fusion at its finest. Ahem. Somehow we actually survived this to actually see The Black Crowes.

My expectations were moderate but I was actually taken with them. Sure they feel like they are doing a Faces / Stones impression, but it is a pretty good one all the same. They have good-ish tunes and front man Chris Robinson has genuinie charisma and a fine Jagger-esque shuffle.

Oh, And we got to see Kate Hudson. Grrrrrrrrr.

trey anastasio
the black crowes ***
kate hudson *****
the occasion ****

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#marmot

9th Jan 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

CocoRosie

Scala, London

After the tragic let down (and probably the best sleep I’ve had in a long time) of the recent Bob Dylan concert I really needed Coco Rosie to restore my faith in live music. I was not disappointed. This was one of the most creative live performances I have ever seen. Sneaking on quietly amid a barrage of French rappers in tutu’s, the sisters captivated the audience from the first note. The music was totally live with classical piano and harp accompanying human beatbox, animal noises, delicate acoustic guitar and strange childlike vocals that sounded like a cross between Billie Holliday, Bjork and that freaky exorcist in Poltergeist. One of the sisters (Sierra) is a trained opera singer and it sure made for a refreshing contrast to hear such an enchantingly powerful voice booming out of a girl dressed in baseball cap and general hip hop gear, while her sister looked like she had just got out of bed and threw on her boyfriends oversized Tupac t-shirt. The stage seemed packed with lots of strangely dressed people doing their own thing around these utterly engaging sisters while a huge back projection played lo-fi images of Care Bears, Unicorns, Rainbows and all the other regulars from your average dream/nightmare scenario.

Their energy was electrifying. You really felt like you were witnessing something totally live and that anything could happen. When someone called out a request from the crowd they just said ‘OK’ and played it. During the encore people were pulled up on stage from the crowd and encouraged to join the free-for-all-sing-along finale that never seemed to end.

Despite the opinion of one guy in the crowd who shouted out ‘you’re a fucking sham’ this was a refreshing, unpretentious and totally unique display of creativity that respectfully nodded to it’s various influences but took the music and performance to places I have never seen before.

The following review of the new album Noah’s Ark on Spin.com just about sums it up: “Sierra and Bianca sound like humping unicorns spewing rainbows in a muddled watercolor field: fantastical and childlike and strangely pretty all at once.”

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2nd Dec 2005 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Wedding Present

Shepherd's Bush Empire, London

The Wedding Present's Take Fountain is another chimp album of the year for me, and certainly best "comeback album that is mind numbingly good, as opposed to predictably disappointing" in a long time.

As the lights went down and the spooky atmos track of Interstate 5 drifted over the PA, I thought we were heading straight into a thundering live rendition of my Collateral-esque widescreen track of the year. Instead, that faded away and we just had a thundering run through of classic Wedding Present and Cinerama tracks, with only two off Take Fountain - Always The Quiet One (awesome and fast) and Ringway to Seatac (awesomer and faster).

Suck, Dare, Kennedy, Heather, Corduroy, Apres Ski and a cover of Falling from Twin Peaks stood out - but then I only have six albums and only recognized about half the songs. The most under revised I have felt in a long time.

David Gedge was not quite what I was expecting (it is 15 years later), but was not disappointing. A totally engaging character, he acted and gestured his way through every song, without the pretensions of someone like Jarvis Cocker. "This song's about sex, or maybe love. Don't ask me, I'm just a conduit." Continued requests persisted from the crowd, and were met with the response "In 20 years have you ever known us to do requests?"... until someone shouted "Brassneck" at just the right time on the set list for the very tight band to launch straight into a ferocious version of possibly their most famous tune. The generally well behaved mosh pit (most fans were 30-40 and probably teachers) went crazy.

No Take Me! either, but I got what I was looking for with the speaker facing, top speed, double guitars, extended high note strumming on about half a dozen other tracks. The only thing that could have made this gig any better would have been for it to be a warm up show at the Amersham Arms.

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23rd Nov 2005 - Add Comment - Tweet

The National

ULU, London

The National have been making quick progress up my album of the year chart, so this was a good chance to put these pups under the microscope (even though they are only a mere 3 albums in).

Support act Film School kicked things off, and I spent quite a while deciding whether their Cure stylings and sound were contrived or genuine... but being American ponces (as opposed to British ones) did them some favours and they may be worth watching out for. When The National took to the stage however there was no doubt that they were a cut above. They kicked straight into the new classic Secret Meeting with such power and gusto that the audience was instantly gripped. I was surprised that singer Matt Berninger wasn't the dude on the cover of the debut album... but if Britt Daniel from Spoon is Richie Cunniingham, then this guy is a cross between Crispin Glover and Sam Shepard. Alternately smoking and moodily skulking around the stage... which all made me realise how many bands don't have an instrumentless singer at the moment. This created a real focus for the six piece band, who did seem a lot more of a band (rather than a single vision of a single person) than I had imagined.

There was a bit too much swapping around between the bass and guitar guys (chimp concert rule number 3, stick to one instrument), but the set motored along without much interruption, consisting of a lot of tracks from the current album Alligator, with a few other numbers from Sad Songs For Dirty Lovers and the Cheery Tree EP, all amped up a notch from the studio versions, with a fair bit of screaming.

If you don't have Alligator yet, get onto it. And keep a eye out for these guys in the future. Ossum.

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23rd Nov 2005 - Add Comment - Tweet

Bob Dylan

Brixton Academy, London

It was a tough call seeing this or Jeff Tweedy tonight. One, a bonifide legend who might not be back, the other a mini-legend, who will almost certainly be back - with and without Wilco. That made the decision easier, and the huge queue snaking all the way round the Brixton Academy at 7.30 certainly added to the excitement.

Everyone got in pretty quickly, and at about 7.40 the lights went down for an ice hockey style introduction for the "legend of the 60's counter culture, duke of spook... etc". The crowd went crazy when Dylan shuffled on, and kicked things off with Maggie's Farm. We also got Positively 4th Street, Most Likely You Go Your Way (And I'll Go Mine), Girl Of The North Country and Highway 61 Revisited. The Band (I wish) were certainly good, but no one really moved off piste without a nod from the commandant, and certainly no one broke into a sweat. Dylan himself was captivating to watch, but mainly due to the fact that you were in the presence of a living legend... rather than what he was doing (not playing the guitar, occasionally playing the harmonica. The older geeks in the crowd (some with binoculars, many taking notes) seemed determined to like every single move or shuffle, and every song started with a race to be the first to recognize it.

The band shuffled off after a brief bow, but nothing was said to the crowd. They predictably shuffled back on for an encore with Like A Rolling Stone, which was the first time the crowd actually had a chance to sing along. As the chorus came up the crowd swelled up - but then after one line, Dylan's different delivery (Like a ROLL-ing stONE!) just caught everyone off guard and put an end to it.

All Along The Watchtower wasn't bad, but all in all it was a bit like seeing a really good jazz band (or even Steely Dan) on a Cross Channel Ferry doing Dylan covers. In the club style.

Should have seen Tweedy.

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23rd Nov 2005 - Add Comment - Tweet

The White Stripes

Alexandra Palace, London

People have been banging on about the White Stripes since way back when The Strokes were just a glint in Albert Hammond Snr's eye. It was only recently that I fully clicked with them being any good - with the song As Ugly As I Seem. Sure, Seven Nation Army is great, but the whole it's-recorded-on-genuine-analogue-equipement-that's-why-it-sounds-badly-produced vibe never did it for me. Pet Sounds, or Houses Of The Holy managed to get their levels right.

Anyway, suffice to say that when they are playing live, the whole recording/production thing becomes old news - as it's all the same volume, right in front of you. And it's LOUD. Who would have though that a guitar and drums could make such a thundering racket. 'Especially with (ahem) a girl hitting the skins'.

Jack White is a genuine band leader with a huge stage presence, and while he stomps around bossing Meg about, you do get the feeling it's just for show and the band really is equally indebted to both him and Meg. Her relentless, basic, pounding drumming really creates an atmosphere while he swaps guitars, tinkles on the piano or organ, and plays the Xylophone.

Yes, Blue Orchid and Seven Nation Army were stomping highlights, but tough versions of the Hardest Button To Button and Fell In love With A Girl also stood out, plus Meg singing on Passive Manipulation, the infectious simplicity of My Doorbell, or the superb Xylophone tune The Nurse and the sing-along (chorus only, see below) I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself.

Only downside was way too many people (8000+?), and a slight sense that the band had got too big too quick. While everyone new the tunes when Jack held up the mike for a sing-a-long, no one actually new the words...

CORRECTION: Jack White plays a marimba not a xylophone. They are similar, but the xylophone has a more harsh sound and doesn't have resonators. It's absolutely a marimba on the album. - CN

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15th Nov 2005 - Add Comment - Tweet

Sufjan Stevens

King's College, London

First trip to King's College Student Union tonight, and up to the 4th floor (Tokyo style!) for Tutu's bar. Classical music set the scene for tonight's 'Acoustic Evening With Sufjan Stevens', and beer was at student prices. No jelly vodka shots though.

Scottish opening act My Latest Novel start things off, and were sounding good but were unfortunately another case of 'listen but don't look'. A lack of experience and stage presence, mixed with a constant swapping around of who's playing what, plus one too many toy instruments failed to keep this chimp focused. They did sound OK though, and they almost certainly must know those Fence guys.

Sufjan Stevens and his gang took to the stage in semi-freaky Halloween masks, but the itchy feathers soon put an end to that. One album into his quest to record an album for every state, Sufjan Stevens was already distracted with the non-US State based Seven Swans, so it was good to see him sticking to his plan with the release of this year's Come On, Feel The Illinoise!. That album in particular has a tendency to use repeated compositions and melodies, meaning it can sometimes start to sound more like a movie soundtrack than an album proper... and that was reflected in the live show. Serial Killer classic John Wayne Gacy Jr. was a stand out for me and the show in general sounded great (just like the record!), but the lack of energy and too many songs with 80% of the band just standing still were a bit of a mood killer. Give me a shuffling, high kicking Bob Pollard any day.

For once it was a case of 'less cowbell', and 'more guitar, bass, drums and attitude'. Please.

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1st Nov 2005 - Add Comment - Tweet

Broken Flowers

(dir. Jim Jarmusch)

After being dumped by his current girlfriend, middle aged romeo Bill Murray takes to the road to look up his old girlfriends - in the hope of finding the writer of an anonymous letter informing him that he has a 20 year old son.

Some odd press had preceeded this film. All the reviews seemed complimentary, but it was generally getting around 3 out of 5. Being a big fan of Bill Murray (and the type of film where 'nothing much happens') this seemed like a high probability hit in the chimp camp. Jim Jarmusch has always had my respect, and for me he's been getting better and better - honing his ideas into a more engaging format.

As a result I was very surprised that in some ways this film seemed like a step away from the style of his more recent films (I'm thinking Ghost Dog) and back towards the slow, detached style of early films like Stranger Than Paradise and Down By Law. Even Down By Law had a bit of action, whereas this film really did seem incredibly slight. Bill Murray is pretty much left to his own devices, which is fine on one level as he's always watchable, but beyond the amusing tracksuits his character really didn't seem to have the depth and history that it needed. He seems to pop up in the lives of these women, give us no real insight into what they ever had together and then he gets home with no resolution.

Jessica Lange's pet psychologist provides a few laughs, Chloe Sevigny makes only the briefest of appearances, and only Jeffrey Wright really makes much of an impression. On the whole, pretty disappointing.

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1st Nov 2005 - Add Comment - Tweet

Dark Days

(dir. Marc Singer)

Thanks in no small part to Michael Moore and his healthy appetite for regime change in North America, feature length documentaries have become something of the new rock and roll lately. Recent heavyweights such as Bowling for Columbine, Touching the Void, Super Size Me. Etc. all left their mark at the box-office and generated their own headlines. One that may have slipped through your radar is Dark Days, released in 2000.

Literally straight from the New York City underground, Dark Days spends time with a group of people who, each for their own reason, call the subway tunnels around Penn station home. And home is exactly what they have, individual shelters with locked doors, some with gas cookers, others shaving with electric razors.

What is remarkable is how the residents of this underworld community adapt to lead such apparently ordinary lives; playing darts with buddies, painting doors, wrestling with pet dogs etc.

But this is no utopia. Cat-sized rodents share the neighbourhood, a crack addict has her shelter burned down over a bad debt and a DJ Shadow score keeps things suitably atmospheric. As one-time resident Greg remarks when trying to figure out how he got so low (no pun intended) as to live in the subway for five years, "Those were dark days man."

Engaging, interesting, funny, sad and deep (intended). Watch it. and you'll get to thinking what's really going on beneath your feet next time you pound the streets.

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31st Oct 2005 - Add Comment - Tweet

My Morning Jacket

Z

This was probably the first album since Radiohead that I've been actively waiting for, so right off the bat this is likely to be a one sided review. We'd been previewing a few of the tracks at chimp HQ, so I was slightly nervous that I might have blown it's chance of holding together, but straight away the official sequence of the tracks works a lot better than what I'd been listening to... as well as adding several more standout tracks.

Things start off well with Worldless Chorus, a fairly catchy opener using the keyboard sound that was apparant at the recent Jim James solo gig. Although the sound is new for the band, it's with It Beats 4U however, that things really take a more unusual turn. Using shuffling drums and a more disco sound this really does sound like a move forward for the band. Radiohead producer John Leckie (The Bends) seems to have taken their ideas and really distilled them down into a sound that is both classic and contemporary (send insults to headchimp@chimpomatic.com).

Into the Woods uses effects and sounds of fairgrounds to create a haunting atmosphere, which after several listens has become a standout track on the album. Anytime rocks. Knot Comes Loose is classic At Dawn era MMJ, and Dondante is a powerful, emotional finale.... working from quiet and simple up to soaring and loud, showcasing all aspects of this great band.

At 47 minutes it's relatively short and sweet, but definitely unmissable.

UPDATE: I exercised a vague note of caution with my initial 4.5 rating, but I'm now confident this is a bonifide keeper at 5.

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24th Oct 2005 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Spoon

Koko, Camden

Spoon are one of those bands who seem to have surfaced recently... but a bit of detective work reveals they've been around for years and years, quietly plugging away, doing their own thing.

After the utterly useless support band "Amusement Parks on Fire" shuffle their tedious, angst ridden, Kurt Cobain cardigan-wearing, trauma-feedback nonsense into the wings, Spoon hit the stage and straight away it's clear that they're a band with a lot of live experience. They're super tight and work the crowd well, with Richie Cunningham/Gary Busey (c. Big Wednesday) lookalike singer Britt Daniel exuding personality with his chat and semi-moonwalking sliding dances. They march through a lot of their latest album Gimme Fiction, with great drumming and Ice Hockey style keyboards (from a Vincent Gallo lookalike)... sounding a lot like an American 1960's band in the style of a British Invasion rock. Right at home on Nuggets in fact.

It's all over too fast, with a rousing encore finale of Ice Hockey Rock (TM) classic Small Stakes. Check the surveillance section for a clip.

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13th Oct 2005 - Add Comment - Tweet

Sympathy For Lady Vengeance

(dir. Park Chan-Wook)

The third part of Park Chan-Wook's revenge trilogy, Sympathy For Lady Vengeance pulls off a similar trick to Old Boy and Sympathy For Mr Vengeance... taking you on an journey that's just out of the realms of the possible, but at the same time, entirely believable on the terms of its own warped logic.

Yeong-ae Lee plays a young woman about to be released from prison after serving time for the murder of a young boy. While in prison she's become the focus for a religious cult, as well as building up a string of alliances in her cell. Once out, she sets in motion her plan… (yes, she's out for revenge).

Like the other two, it's packed with tiny cinematic flourishes that other directors would spend the whole film milking, as well as his trademark capacity for inventive violence that never shies from showing the consequences. It's also beautifully shot, very moving, and funny; has some great performances (although the Australian scenes in English don't quite work as well as the rest), and also has cameos from the stars of Old Boy and SFMV (Yeong-ae Lee herself was in JSA, his take on South/North Korean border politics).

If you've seen the other two, you'll have some idea of where it's going, but only in the sense that you know it's going to be a dark surprise, operating on the edges of human motivation. Be very interesting to see where he goes next, but for this chimp, the vengeance trilogy has been a pretty exhilerating ride.

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9th Oct 2005 - Add Comment - Tweet