Chimpomatic

AC/DC: No Bull - The Director's Cut

(dir. David Mallet)

Sony

This 'legendary' concert from 1996 was shot on AC/DC's Ballbreaker tour, before a bull-ring full of adoring Spanish fans. A brief intro sees a giant polystyrene wrecking ball crash through a giant polysterene set, before Angus Young rushes through the rubble and the unforgettable chords of Back In Black deliver exactly whay you would want from this video.

Shoot To Thrill, Hell's Bells, Rock 'n Roll Ain't Noise Pollution..... all my Back In Black favourites are well represented, as well as a host of other classics (Thunderstruck, Girl Got Rhythm) and surprisingly few 'new' favourites. Some minor theatrics lead into Hells Bells, with Johnson swinging on a giant (polystyrene) bell, but otherwise it's pretty straight-up meat and potatoes from this great band.

The aged Angus (a mere 41 when this was shot) still pulls off the school boy shorts without a problem, often looking like the star of an 80's Peter Jackson horror movie - effortlessly Chuck Berry-ing around the stage with his casual style never dropping a note. Brian Johnson's smokey vocals sound forever stretched, but never quite crack - and while there's nothing spectacular about the filming of this concert, all the money is on the screen.

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3rd Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The War On Drugs / The Dudes / Ladyhawk

Borderline, London October 1st 2008

"Bryan Adams. Celine Dion. Ladyhawk. Neil Young. The Dudes." According to The Dudes lead singer Dan Vacon, two of Canada's favourite five bands are on stage tonight, and while that song Run To You was pretty good I'm going to have to agree.

As an added bonus, The War On Drugs provided last-minute support for the evening, after their European tour with the Hold Steady was cancelled. They managed to shake off their Waterboys image with some hard-rocking jams from Wagonwheel Blues stretched out into psychedelia - although they did display a tendency to drag every song on a little long. They're not quite Neil Young just yet.

The pace of the evening changed dramatically when The Dudes took to the stage, with their well travelled bar room rock lifting the atmosphere immeasurably. The band were fast and tight, power-housing their way through much of Brain, Heart, Guitar with an immensely charismatic charm. As expected, the sound of the band's slightly over-polished debut was peeled back live, to reveal a rock-loving, hard-jamming machine - with drumming like you have never seen. Best of all, the band looked like they were enjoying what they were doing, as they brought a Thin Lizzy-like honest simplicity to a raft of great tracks like Don't Talk, The Fist ("one-hand claps will do if you're holding a beer") and Dropkick Queen Of The Weekend. "In case you're wondering, white jeans and a mustache are not cool in Canada either."

Luckily we're not talking Hoxton mustache here - and I'm happy to report another entry into the "Beards+Guitar+Canada = Rock" stereotype, as Ladyhawk provided another whole level of great. "Fast and loose" doesn't mean a band can't be super-tight, as Ladyhawk powering through the best of their two albums, segueing between their own songs. "Ladyhawke is in the toilet, she'll be here in a minute" mocked singer Duffy Driediger, which probably provided an explanation for some of the bemused looking crowd. No sign of dance-pop from songs like I Don't Always Know What You're Saying and Ashtray, as this distinctly Canadian band beefed up an already great album - blending heavy rock with instantly accessible, sing-a-long song-writing.

A rousing rendition of Fear rounded out a great bill of live music, before an as-yet-unidentified encore provided a powerful end to the evening. With The Dudes down the front providing sing-a-long vocals, the band all switched places leaving Duffy Driediger to roam free and bust out his most comical Freddie Mercury-like vocal moves from the open plains of the dance floor. Awesome.

The War On Drugs - 2.5 stars
The Dudes - 3.5 stars
Ladyhawk - 4 stars

#Music
#Gig
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2nd Oct 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Gomorra

(Dir Matteo Garrone)

Fandango

Two kids decide to take on the local crime boss. A mafia-funded tailor decides to moonlight for a Chinese sweatshop. A politician looks for new sites to dump toxic waste. A mob money man decides he's had enough. A grocery boy gets drawn into an escalating turf war.

Dizzying reinvention of the mafia movie, based on the nonfiction book by Roberto Saviano. Far from the glamour of The Godfather or even The Sopranos, this is more like a Naples version of The Wire. We're thrown into the middle of five stories, which build up a crushing portrait of a city in chaos; it's not so much that the system has failed here, but that even the crime culture which has stepped into the void seems to have spiralled out of control, light years from the honour amongst thieves myth we've seen time and again. 

It's beautifully shot, with the housing estates where the bulk of the action takes place rising up like decaying Mayan pyramids. Scenes are artfully constructed, with details like a freshly manicured hand or a statue of Jesus being winched down an estate balcony standing out amidst the action. That's not to suggest that this elegant movie glosses over the trauma and social breakdown - far from it. Violence is ever-present, brutally casual and everyday. It's a bewildering experience, as we float from story to story and back again, wondering how they connect - and also wondering how any of the characters can possibly hope to escape the lives they've found themselves in. 

At 137 mins, it's a long haul, but well worth it. Strong contender for one of the films of 2008.

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#chimp71

1st Oct 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Constantines

Kensington Heights

Arts & Crafts

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

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

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

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30th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Recount

(dir. Jay Roach)

HBO Films/ More 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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#chimp71

29th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Heroes

Season 3, ep1: The Second Coming

ABC/BBC

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

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

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

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#chimp71

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

TV On The Radio

Dear Science

4AD

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

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

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

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

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

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

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#CSF

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

Bellowhead

Matachin

Navigator

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

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

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

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

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

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#Locochimpo

25th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Sic Alps

A Long Way Round To A Shortcut

Animal Disguise

The far reaching arm of the internet has empowered the music listening public but changed the way we listen to and experience this music. One of the casualties is the emergence of a 'local scene' and the excitement of feeling like you are one of a select few that is hearing this music hasn't been felt by many for a long time. For a while now L.A. club The Smell has been the epicenter of a small genre commonly known as 'shitgaze' - a lo-fi punk rock sound often drowned in noise and scuzz. The main players are No Age, Abe Vagoda, and this band - Sic Alps. To make it easy for us this side of the pond, guitarist Mike Donovan and drummer Matthew Donovan have compiled the story so far in one nice easy 26 track album gathering together together all their 7' and 12' releases since 2006.

Arranged in reverse chronological order A Long Way Round To A Short Cut puts its best foot forward with stripped down garage rock occupying most of the first half. Songs like Message From The Law and Bells (With Tremelo And Destortion) serve up a solution of dirt covered blues riffs with murky vocals. They rattle with tinny, DIY production and rumble with basslines so wrapped up in fuzz they play out like month-old cheese. It's not until we get to the halfway point of RATROQ that this record changes course. It's a course that you'd be able to see coming but RATROQ marks the shift and downward plummet into the avant-guard noise creations that this band started with. It's like A Love Supreme being put through a bandsaw and it continues on from there with Social Strats and I Am Grass (Restored) following suit.

So from the hiss-soaked blues rock of the latest singles, Sic Alps take us on a back-track through their short but conscientious career through the squinting screech of their feed-back faze and finishing up with the 2006 releases that adopted a kind of stoner-rock lethargy but with added grime. The latest releases are undoubtedly more palatable but the early 8-Track recordings are essential listening when trying to understand this band and the scene they belong in.

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24th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Chad Vangaalen

Soft Airplane

Sub Pop

The Canadian one-man-band returns from the success of Skelliconnection with his 3rd album and one that consolidates all his learnings so far into the best example of his creativity so far. Soft Airplane maintains the DIY aesthetic that Vangaalen has mad his own but manages to inject just enough new-found sophistication to make this record a welcome departure from the previous 2 but familiar enough to keep them relevant.

Using various analogue recording devices Vangaalen lays down a wonderful mixture of dainty folk (Willow Tree), grimy indie-rock (Inside The Molecules) and glitch heavy electronica (TMNT Mask). Using all sorts of instruments from synthesizers, guitars, to any number of home made things that make make noise each song bristles with a creativity and open-mindedness that has always been more than obvious but here seems to sit more comfortably in its skin. The records may swing between genres at an alarming rate but the unifying thread in all his work is the voice. Throughout each tale of death, nightmares and love lost and found Vangaalen's voice quivers with the vulnerability of a flickering flame and yet can rise to a cavernous scale like on the riff heavy Bare Feet On Wet Griptape.

With his mixture of traditional song craft and homemade electronics, Soft Airplane oozes melancholic nostalgia but shines forth with the hope of a contemporary outlook. It's an album so full of ideas it's hard to imagine all this emanated from just one man. It plays out like the work of an artist entirely dedicated to his craft and one who's influences are never denied but instead used as a launching pad for a journey that is all together his own.

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#BC

23rd Sep 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Catfish Haven

Devastator

Secretly Canadian

With an introduction that will make you almost sure you are listening to a legendary Lynyrd Skynyrd bootleg, Catfish Haven's third album Devastator kicks off with a confidence and enthusiasm that makes them hard to place. Your immediate assumption might be that the band are a 70's rock tribute act, and while the album is unashamedly retro there's a wealth of great material on here - worthy of many of of the band's obvious influences.

If Aretha Franklin has refused to let Matt "Guitar" Murphy quit the cafe and put the band back together, Jake and Ellwood Blues might have called on second choice backing band - Duane and Gregg Allman. Their southern rock could have pushed the Blues Brothers into a whole new territory, adding a heavy-rocking boogie to their Sam Cooke-influenced soulful style. Surpringly enough, Catfish Haven are not a sprawling 11-piece rock orchestra, but just a three piece from Chicago - with a very big sound.

The party train leaves the station on opener Are You Ready, before passing through the infectous Prince-tinged guitar of Set In Stone (an unmissable highlight and certainly a future Chimpomatic Song Of The Day, mp3 here), as George Hunter wails "There's a train, that leaves the station of my mind". There's no slowing down for the foot-stomping piano on Buying My Time, or the furious instrumental workout of Full Speed as this unstoppably entertaining listen plows full steam ahead, right through to the very end.

This is one retro sound that has been long in need of re-invention and thankfully the band remain firmly on the side of homage rather than pastiche - more Black Mountain than Wolfmother. You can either jump on board right here, or at the very least dust off some Allman Brothers and leave your blues at home.

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22nd Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Juana Molina

Un Dia

Domino

Juana Molina's fifth album opens with the line, "Undia voy a cantar las canciones sin letra y cada uno podra imaginar si hablo de amor, de desilusion, banalidades o sobre platon." And for those of you who don't know, this translates as, "One day I will sing the songs with no lyrics and everyone can imagine for themselves if it's about love, disappointment, banalities or about Plato." You don't have to dig too deep into this record or even speak her language to understand that she is well on the way to this goal. Un Dia is clearly the result of some pretty ruthless examination of her past work as here, Molina pulls out certain elements that previously lay hidden and fades other's expertly into the background. The two factors to which I refer are the emergence of rhythm and the receding of the vocals. The rhythm and pulse of this music is key and as each groove and beat writhe over and inside eachother, Molina's minimal and whispered, repeated vocals become just another tool for this truly mesmeric and seductive sound. Un Dia is as uncompromising and mesmeric as some of the finest work by Japanese experimental artist Susumu Yokota and not since Joanna Newsom's Ys have I heard such a fiercely original record.

Describing the rhythm in her previous work as being "like a hidden layer in Photoshop," the aim with Un Dia was to bring to the forefront something that had previously been obvious to her but not to others. This rhythm, being played out on wood, cymbal, gentle acoustic guitar and bombo leguero and woven from delicate electronic glitches produces trance-like compositions that slowly gather momentum, taking on more instruments with every revolution until they swirl around your head in a magical frenzy. Molina's voice is heavily sampled and looped creating a complex mesh of repetition that is at the heart of this trance. It's incredibly seductive music but not in a Siren sort of way. The seduction occurs by the sheer weight of sound that rises up before you and the unrelenting endurance of it. Most of these songs surpass the seven minute mark and all build on an initial rhythm and maintain this to the end, gathering a throng of support along the way. And yet it all plays out with the lightest of touches.

With opener and title track Un Dia, Molina's voice is so distant as are the numerous instruments that, as the song progresses, it feels like you are being slowly surrounded by sound. The expert production allows each sound to, in turn, loom out of this impenetrable ring and approach your ear. Some of these compositions are quite unrelenting and refuse to give the listener what they want. This works out to be the ultimate success but the songs that build to what can very loosely be described as a pay-off are simply dazzling. Vive Solo begins with quiet acoustic strums and Molina's voice assumes angelic simplicity. The gentle clap of the rhythm creeps in and this builds the tempo with incredible subtlety until Molina's breathy deliveries evolve into almost horn-like tone and sound out like an instrument of another planet. Los Hingos De Marosa follows a similar structure laying down complexly woven textures of electronic chirps that are eventually punctuated with Molina's blissful voice.

Whether dancing playfully around the rhythm or swirling with nagging endurance Molina evolves and contorts her voice to fit the organic sounds that surround it and its captivation lies in its ability to greet you with the most human of touches and also behave in truly otherworldly ways. Her use of voice-as-instrument here has created a restless, magical, narcotic master piece.

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19th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Mogwai

The Hawk Is Howling

Wall Of Sound

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

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

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

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

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18th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Vivian Girls

Vivian Girls

In The Red

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

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

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

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

#Music
#NM

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

Lambchop

Oh (Ohio)

City Slang

The task of reviewing a new Lambchop album is a tricky one indeed. Firstly this band tend to make albums so subtle and complex that to form an opinion in only a few listens seems futile as from past experience a Lambchop album will have its delights set on slow release. Secondly, and similarly due to the great wealth of subtleties, the changes and progressions that occur between albums seem minimal or certainly not obvious. Only the more ardent fans will notice any great shifts in style or theme from record to record but to everyone else they all sound pretty similar.

There are however some pretty seismic (in Lambchop terms) changes on Oh (Ohio) and that is namely its accessibility. Kurt Wagner has always crafted songs that ooze romance but the sheer weirdness that has always lurked underneath these lounge acts has always hinted at a tongue being in cheek. The result of this has always put a slight chill in the smokey air and has set our quirky narrator at a distance from his subjects. But from this distance he has always been able to view life in all its detail and pass comment with a unique profundity. On Oh (Ohio) the profundity remains but the distance seems to have lessened and a new warmth has crept into these songs.

Please Rise illustrates this new shift perfectly. Wagner's lethargic vocals stand alone as this song emerges, then slowly it is joined by a delicate and quite distant piano. With cavernous guitars this song gently rises and rises until Wagner's closing line of "stand over me" is enveloped in glistening music that has formed such a protecting layer of warmth that a song that opened with such vulnerability ends with a great sense of peace. This closeness is also evoked by a pleasing increase in pace dotted perfectly throughout the shuffling. Sharing A Gibson With Martin Luther King Jr. is the best example of this. As it skips along on a rolling bassline and jangly guitars, its continuous momentum dipping and peaking forming a fantastic mirror to the monotone vocals that never over exert themselves along the way. On Popeye these two elements are kept separate as the first half drifts by on bristling melodies and thick, dripping vocals only to be rudely interrupted by a thrilling instrumental second half that kicks off hot on the heals of the dying notes that preceded it.

Earlier in the album on the beautiful Slipped Dissolved And Loosed, Wagner is joined by a soft female vocal accompaniment that shadows his chorus like a cool breeze and provides companionship to his often lonely delivery. The opening line to this song "I am not familiar with the typography of your mind," is brought to mind as we near the end of the record with I Believe In You. It's a strikingly intimate way to end a record and reflects the love song we heard earlier and indeed serves as an insight into "the typography" of Wagner's mind. With this song Wagner emerges from the world he creates in his music and puts us and him very much in the now, commenting on everything from God to organic food. It's an apt way to end a record that, with many of his eccentric kinks ironed out, is more palatable, easier to get on with and more safe. His alarmingly high falsetto vocal levels never get an airing here but in those deep tones that trickle throughout Oh (Ohio) there is plenty to listen to.

#Music
#BC

16th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

David Vandervelde

Waiting For The Sunrise

Secretly Canadian

A couple of weeks ago, during a particularly stressful time I received an all important and long awaited phone call. Needing to quickly write down the information relayed to me over the phone, I scrambled around in my bag for something on which to write and all I could lay my hands on was the Waiting For The Sunrise press release. Sadly this was as close as this album would come to being essential.

Believe it or not, that intro in no way suggests this to be a bad album. Vandervelde's mini-debut in 2007 was a warm breeze blowing over much of the releases that year. It was heavily steeped in rock history, particularly that of Marc Bolan but was enjoyable none the less. The trick is making that heavy emulation last over more than one album and by the sound of his followup the plan was simply to change the point of reference. This year, soft rock and the sound of Fleetwood Mac are the source in question and much the same enjoyment is gained from this as with the debut but it really doesn't seem enough.

Opener I Will Be Fine is classic Mac as it tip toes in on a delicate beat and dainty piano tinkle. Vandervelde's hazy vocals are light and breezy and allow much room to the music as they fade to the background during extended bridge sections. Hit The Road plods endlessly on amidst a fuzzed out wall of guitars while Someone Like You rises above the sun-bleached haze to produce a nice guitar driven melody and colourful injections of retro keyboards.

Much of the feeling of the 70's is evoked on Waiting For The Sunrise including theinability to stop playing when a song has run its course. Someone Like You hits the 4 minute mark and enters into an instrumental of swirling keyboards that you'd think would see out the rest of the song, but then in come the vocals and the next half begins, but the next half is much of the same and it all just seems like an inability to say goodbye. Need For Now is as non-desrcript as you'll get and it still goes on for over 6 minutes, much of that being the same kind of plodding keyboard instrumentals. Lyin' In Bed is even longer and covers even less musical ground than it's predecessor.

This is a well produced and musically solid album, while Vandervelde has an impressive vocal range and more than achieves his goal. But when the goal seems like little more than emulation, you have to ask yourself what the point of all this is. The reason why there isn't much back story to this review is that I did actually lose that press release when the information adorning the back of it no longer seemed important to me. The same can be said for David Vandervelde unfortunately.

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15th Sep 2008 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Kings Of Leon

Only By The Night

Sony

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

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

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

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

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

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12th Sep 2008 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Metros

More Money Less Grief

1965 Records

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

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

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

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

Ben Weaver

The Ax In The Oak

Bloodshot

Modest Mouse and Iron & Wine producer Brian Deck joins Ben Weaver once again on his sixth studio album and the result is a more experimental sound that lifts this record from the sometimes slow grind of his previous efforts. The partnership here between these two artists is more of a collaboration as Deck does way more than produce this piece of work. The Ax In The Oak sounds more like a question and answer exercise as one artist uses what the other has given as a launching pad for multiple departures.

All the regular trappings are here, with Weaver's gruff delivery dominating every second, his lyrics as bare and exposed as ever but the addition of beautifully subtle electronic texture seems to go some way to providing much needed warmth and support to these exposed vocals. But ultimately it's the vocals that makes Ben Weaver so unique. Like Silver Jews' David Berman, Weaver has an ability to see the world in all its day-to-day minutia and uses this attention to detail to describe the larger concepts we all struggle to understand. Opening song White Snow declares "You get one wish for each dot on a junebug's wing / And there's only one dot on the one I'm holding...I'm not going to waste it on you." Likewise, Anything With Words states "The truth is no rounder than a tired horse's eyes."

The themes in Weaver's songs are as earthy as his voice. Nature features strongly with foxes, hawks, alligators and crows all drifting by the desolate Weaver landscape. This is very real music as every hum-drum experience contributes to Weavers creative tapestry. But reality isn't always pretty and Weaver doesn't shy away from this. His tales of monotony, loneliness and dead birds can sometimes sound awkward but it's in this awkwardness that the captivation lies.

Such wisdom appears quite startling from someone in his late twenties and the manner by which this wisdom is administered is also staggeringly mature. For an artist like this to be so often compared to Tom Waits the mind boggles at what he'll be sounding like in 20 years time. But great music will often disguise both its origins and the direction it intends to go and throughout all six of this guys records both these elements remain unclear. The standout track here is Hey Ray and if this is any kind of hint at the road that lies ahead for Weaver's music then it is more than encouraging. The lonely strums of the acoustic guitar are so shrouded in loneliness that when they are eventually enveloped by Deck's warm bass and delicate beat it's hard not to feel a shiver. At over six minutes long Hey Ray is the most subtly ambitious song to date. It shows Weaver's ability to sing about desolation so convincingly and yet shroud his words with such intimacy. He's left "the ax in the oak and the pot on the stove" but assures us he'll "be back in a while." Mr. Weaver, we await your return with baited breath.

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10th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Jaguar Love

Take Me To The Sea

Matador Records

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

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

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9th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Somers Town

(dir. Shane Meadows)

Optimum

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

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

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

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

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8th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Dudes

Brain, Heart, Guitar

One Four Seven

So, ambitious name aside, how do Canadian rockers The Dudes sound? Like a smoothed out White Denim that's been thrown through the blender and re-packaged with a more cohesive brand. Singer Dan Vacon has vocals so similar to White Denim's front man that I was convinced it was a related release. Must just be fans of that sound.

The only problem is, this is actually a UK release of The Dudes overlooked 2006 album, and these Dudes have been tearing up the plains of Calgary since 1996, when White Denim were still playing catch in the garden with their dads.

For such an independent record, this album has a polished studio sound that makes it hard to place the record in a particular period. Live favourite Dropkick Queen Of The Weekend is a highlight, harnessing infectious pop licks to a rock mentality, while the story-telling lyrics of A Cup To Put Your Blood In are built around offer a more engaging narrative. The Fist recalls the mainstream sound of 80's American rock - a highway pounding bassline, backed up my a harmonious chorus - while The Celebration Of Kindness attempts to stretch things out with a more ambitious jam.

The sound and style of the band often recalls the Black Keys (Don't Talk, Love Is Dangerous, Mom 100m), again offering a smoothed-out, more approachable take on things. While White Denim's oddball character is one of their most appealing aspects, the Black Keys lack of cohesion has always seemed like there's a missing element in their sound, which prevents it really taking hold. Here that gap is filled with more hooks, beefed up guitars and sing-a-long chorus'.

Admittedly there's not a huge range here either, which has saved them from any kind of scathing attack, as I'd struggle to pull out a sub-standard track. This is a band you can throw on the stereo, crack open a beer and kick-back to - and sometimes that's just fine.

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4th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

XX Teens

Welcome To Goon Island

Mute

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

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

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

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

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3rd Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Donkeys

Living On The Other Side

Dead Oceans

Imagine if you will, some Hollywood genius decides to remake that 1977 Burt Reynolds vehicle about a vehicle; Smokey and the Bandit, except this time, it's the Dude, not the Tache behind the wheel. That's right, stoned cinematic legend that is Jeffrey Lebowski on a (not too stretching) mission to transport a cargo of Sasparillas across a not that far distance along the United States' west coast. Replace the bloodhound for Donny (we'll leave Walter out of this chilled out trip) and see how our heroes fare.

Who would you use for the soundtrack? Not so long ago, you might have gone for the relatively succesful UK bands, The Thrills or The Bees, Dublin and Isle of White residents who wished they were elsewhere (late 60's/early 70's California to be precise), but such a movie surely deserves something a bit more authentic. So, to said Hollywood genius, why not use 'Living on the Other Side' by Southern California residents, The Donkeys. Made up of four best friends, (two of which are genuine California surfers no less), The Donkey's debut album oozes laid-back chilledness. Slide guitars, brushed drums, simple solos, lazy vibes, barely awake vocals, It's a road trip; Destination: vague. Arrival time: more so. I could tell you about specific songs, but, well....

For those lazy Sundays, when you can't find that album of Whale sounds, stick it on, it will be worth it, even if you can't remember what you just listened to once it's finished.

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2nd Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Calexico

Carried To Dust

City Slang

Pressing play on the new Calexico record is akin to gently parting the curtains after a restless, fever plagued night to find the new day outside well into it's swing, the world still spinning and the sun still beating down mercilessly. As the light streams in you're weary figure is bathed in its healing warmth and your woes of the night before are banished to a distant memory. And the more this album casts this light on all other offerings from this band, 2006's Garden Ruin is illuminated as something of a blip, a brief moment of bad form, and even though it was by no means a poor album it has become glaringly obvious that Carried To Dust is what this band do best. But that is not to suggest that this is merely Calexico by numbers.

Having opted for the bold yet polite statement of Garden Ruin, Joey Burns turns the haze up once again and he and his blissful music retreat into the shadows. And its from here that the familiar dusty sounds of Calexico emerge gently, feeling no need to hurry or impress, choosing the subtle, time honored approach and allowing their sweeping cinematic panoramas to gradually seep into your being. It's a roaming album that makes its way through sprawling, sun-baked terrain, its eyes set on the ocean ahead as a symbol for new shores. Along the way it picks up many characters from murdered political poets to refugees displaced from their homeland.

Musically, Carried To Dust is a masterclass. Every note played and every word breathed serves the grand purpose. The dry landscape of Two Silver Trees is pricked by the crispest of notes that twinkle like timid sprouting shoots. Burns' whispered vocals step into the light cautiously then as the music swells the song expands to magnificent sweeping vistas. The same can be said for The News About William that follows. The addition of the string section provides the grandeur here with Burns' voice rising from its hushed tones to match the soaring horns and violins.

Calexico can evoke scenes of endless landscapes bathed in light and warmth but in an instant can fill these visions with seething tension. Fractured Air both in title and sound illustrates this perfectly with its clipped guitar and clenched reservation. The apocalyptic Man Made Lake simmers all the way through, the beat and tinkling piano suggesting a twilight where all is not at rest. This tension is brought to a magnificent and unusual head as screeching guitars bring this song to an uneasy but expert close. Then by contrast, songs like Slowness with its sweet female accompaniment and slide guitar and the album closer Contention City drift along on a warm breeze with lazy, idyllic lethargy.

House Of Valparaiso could be one of the most perfect Calexico songs to date. It has all you want from this band from Burns' hushed tones setting the scene then the heat being turned up ever so slightly with the inclusion of gentle mariachi trumpets. These are then layered by the rising vocals soaring effortlessly over head of the pitter-patter rhythm like a thermal riding bird of prey. Carried To Dust consolidates all that this band has learnt from its long history. It doesn't just rehash the many successful elements of 2003's Feast Of Wire but builds on these via the lessons learnt from Garden Ruin. Calexico have always been a band that dare to experiment with the tradition in which they are firmly planted but their need for experimentation never overtakes the music. It is always employed solely to serve the song and this album shows that it's this reserved flair that is the ultimate triumph for these songs.

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1st Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Fiona's Story

BBC One

Intense take on a middle-class nightmare, with Gina McKee as a mother of three whose world collapses when husband Jeremy Northam is arrested on suspicion of downloading child pornography.

With such heavy subject matter, this was never going to be an easy watch. But the performances from both leads make this a compelling watch. Both run through a dark kaleidescope of emotions, from denial to anger, heartbreak to despair, confusion to frustration. The script avoids the hysteria the issue commands in the tabloids, in favour of a quiet, understated exploration of what it would be like to witness firsthand such a shocking disintegration of a couple's belief and trust in each other. 

There's a restrained fury at the betrayal underpinning the one-off drama's understanding of the complexities and nuances of the situation, lending it a rigour that's undeniable. Not an easy Sunday night watch, but still one that is both rewarding and illuminating.

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31st Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet