Chimpomatic

Lil Wayne

Tha Carter III

Cash Money

Hailed as the "most anticipated release of 2007", Lil Wayne's first full album since Tha Carter II in 2005 saw such an unprecedented leak rate that it got pushed back for a 2008 release and has since sold more than a million copies in it's first week. All this acclaim and expectation could spell the demise of a hip hop act such as Wayne but Tha Carter III is a piece of work that more than lives up to its hype and sees this truly unique MC occupying even weirder and bolder territory than ever.

On one of the stand out tracks, Dr. Carter, Wayne assumes the role of doctor and the patient is hip hop. Various symptoms present themselves at the start like lack of confidence, bad concepts, weak flow and no style and by the end he claims to have "saved hip hop." This arrogance is justified as he takes us step by step through just why he is more than qualified to be the self proclaimed saviour. And hip hop has never sounded healthier than on Carter III.

With his grizzly delivery and slow, erratic flow Lil Wayne fills every album with an overflowing quantity of ideas. He has experimented so much with his voice and can swing from a deep menacing growl (Phone Home) to weazle-like ragga-monotone rapid fire (A Milli). Each track demonstrates his lyrical prowess as he changes subject faster than a cornered politician. The production is tight with multi layered beats and deep soulful melodies. There is some great samples, most notably the David Axelrod melody on Dr. Carter and Nina Simone on the overlong Don't Get It. Wayne seems so at ease with the music, as he takes his time delivering vivid metaphors it's as if the beats have to keep up with him. Let The Beat Build demonstrates hip hop's unique freedom to allow songs that are about nothing but hip hop itself. The song is centered around Wayne's grasp of beat timing and that's about it, but it works tremendously. Mid-way through the song everything goes quiet until Wayne whispers, "As I hit the kill switch / Now that's how you let the beat build bitch." Songs like Shoot Me Down show the MC soul-searching with dark, brooding atmospherics that build to his end statement "watch me soar, where the fuck is my guitar?" and a screeching chord brings the whole thing to a close. It's followed by it's antithesis, Lollipop. The first official single, this is a made-for-radio song that is centered round a shameless confectionary-based sexual innuendo. It's good but it's nothing 50 Cent didn't already tell us in Candy Shop.

Lollipop, while a solid tune, does contain elements of where this album, for me, strays from its focus and that'll be in its R n B tendencies. I rarely venture into mainstream hip hop such as this, for this very reason. Hip hop is the biggest selling genre in the US and can't do too bad over here either, but I can't help feeling that this statistic comes about largely due to the genre boundaries being heavily blurred and when hip hop strays into RnB territory the market expands. R Kelly isn't hip hop and Kanye West isn't RnB. Songs like Got Money and Comfortable seem to dilute this MC's dazzling writing skills not to mention Mrs Officer, a song who's principle theme is a female cop sexual fantasy.

So that's the bitching out the way and now down to business. This guy can turn a phrase better than most and that's the sole reason to listen to this album. Unlike many of his contemporaries Wayne doesn't lace every rhyme with the same concepts and themes and so in that respect he is hard to pin down. He isn't a thug rapper, a smut rapper or an indie-poet, he's all that and more. He covers many topics with impressive eloquence. Here's a few.

Excretion: You're like a bitch with no ass, you aint got shit. (A Milli)

Grammar: "I don't owe you like two vowels." (A Milli)

Will Smith movies: "I got so many bitches like I was Mike Lowry."(A Milli)

Ailments: "I Got Swagger tighter than a yeast infection" (Dr Carter)

Cooking: "Don't I treat you like soufflé?" ( Comfortable)

Confectionary: "So I let her lick the (w)rapper" - (Lollipop)

French: "I'm all about oui like Paris / Hilton presidential suite already." (La La)

Finance: "You better pay me cos you don't want my problems / I'll be wiling like Capital One, what is in your wallet" (You Aint Got Nuthin.)

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24th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Black Affair

Pleasure Pressure Point

V2

Steve Mason (Beta Band and King Biscuit Time) returns with an all-electro effort. Is it time to admit that the Beta Band were always really one of those bands that were amazing in theory but in practice never quite lived up to the idea of what they could have been? Still love how the 3 EPs managed to get across that sense of indie boys discovering house music and trying to combine elements of both on a 4-track, and King Biscuit Time's Walk The Earth is a great single, but listening to Pleasure Pressure Point it's hard to get beyond the image of that scene in Friends where Ross is mucking about with the presets on his keyboard and totally rocking out ("wow that was so... wow").

It's not that it's terrible, just a bit.... preset - the inspiring thing about the Beta Band was how they tried to get a housey sound out of guitars etc; here it's like he's just found all the minimal 80s electro settings and sung over them, in a deadly serious way. It's quite close to the territory plundered by Neon Neon, but lacks some of the wit that made that work. On the other hand, if you're feeling all roboto and Berlin-concrete this may be the album for you.

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23rd Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Burn Up

BBC2

The planet’s in crisis! The ice-caps are melting! The oil industry’s like, really, really bad!

In Burn Up, a new two-part mini-series eco drama, that’s pretty much what we learn, along with other IMPORTANT INSIGHTS like: Don’t trust the Americans. Don’t trust the Brits. And really, really, don’t trust the pesky Chinese.

Rupert Penry Jones (nice English man from Spooks) stars as a nice English man who somehow finds himself promoted to head honcho of some oil company when his father in law decides he’s had enough of getting his hands dirty. For someone who’s obviously been working in the oil industry for a bit, he’s pretty naive about how the whole oil thing is going down. He hires nice wind-farm lover Neve “Scream” Campbell to make it look like his company gives a shit about investing in sustainables (but they don’t really, mwah ha-ha), then seems surprised when he starts to work out that actually she’s the one making sense (around the same time he notices she’s quite hot) and all his nice corporate buddies, like shady Uncle Mack (Bradley Whitford from the West Wing) are actually the real loonies running around the planet, digging stuff up, destroying those nice polar bears and casually killing anyone who gets in their way.

Marc Warren seems to be having quite a good time as an ambiguous British diplomat moving and shaking behind the scenes, scoring points off the Americans and generally being a bit shady. But other than that, it’s all pretty cartoony, one of those message-dramas where they’re so busy cramming lots of IMPORTANT INFORMATION ABOUT THE END OF THE WORLD that they forget to write a believable drama.

It’s hard to accept that anyone at the top of the oil food chain could really be so uninformed about anything to with the reality of the situation. But more importantly, are we really supposed to buy the idea of a post-Kyoto eco summit where all the delegates are schmoozing in the same after-hours disco, bopping and drinking while images of ice-caps melting are projected on the walls? Hey international delegates! Worn out by all that complicated chat about production caps and carbon trading? I know! Let’s all wind down by going to a rave sponsored by Greenpeace! And as for the final big dramatic bit (I’d say this was a SPOILER, or even a spOILer, but really it’s not giving away much to let you know that this predictable drama ends in a chase) - are we really supposed to believe you can just sneak into Calgary stadium in the middle of the night for some clandestine meetings on the steps just because it makes for a scenic location? What? Security’s so lax in a major city where they’ve got thousands of diplomats and eco-protesters running around that you can break into such a public space? Could you break into Wembley like this on a normal day, let alone one when your city is under international scrutiny? The O2? Koko’s got better security! It’s totally ridiculous.

Obviously it’s good to see that fiction isn’t operating in a bubble, that people are trying to draw our attention to the plight of the penguins etc etc. But this doesn’t really help. Maybe the planet would be better off if we turned off our TVs for the four-odd hours it takes to watch Burn Up...

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22nd Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Kevin Bishop Show

C4

Following on from his collection of spoof celeb bios Star Stories, Kevin Bishop returns with his own Friday night sketch show.

As you'd expect, it's still pretty sleb-based - Simon Cowell's brother Brian (complete with matching super high-waisted trousers) running the fourth largest convenience store in Rotherham; Jonathan Ross introducing "my special guest... Wicky Gervais!!"; Sienna Miller's elegant new parfum Publicity; a Daily Mail DVD giveaway with alternate outtakes for films like Bruce Forsyth in The Shining and Al Pacino in Superman etc.

It's shot like you're watching someone flipping though the Sky EPG for you, at an ADD speed that keeps it moving fast enough to not let the duffers get in the way of what's mostly a pretty decent Friday night LOLathon; for once it's a sketch show where you feel like they're struggling to get all the ideas crammed into half an hour, rather than pad them out to fit.

Bonus fact: Kevin Bishop was Jim Hawkins in Muppet Treasure Island

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21st Jul 2008 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

She & Him

Volume One

Domino

This unusual project pairs together Portland guitarst/producer M. Ward and actress (and friend to the elves), Zooey Deschanel - who I've always taken a shine to after assuming her parents were J.D. Salinger fans. After being paired together for a duet over the closing credits of the movie The Go Getter, the unlikely pair formed a developing bond, which led to Deschenal sending her demos to Ward, who suggested recording together. An internet relationship blossomed, ending with the recording of the album which was then mixed by Bright Eyes alumni Mike Mogis - who also plays on the album. It's been out for a while on Merge in the US, but thankfully Domino has seen fit to release this intriguing project in the UK.

Charming opener Sentimental Heart sets the tone, sketching a nostalgic 50's-style tale of teenage angst. Deschanel's crooning voice is effortlessly and infinitly charming, giving the album an instant appeal, while restrained instrumentation backs up the vocals, building slowly into a bombastic ochestral finale. M. Ward makes only the briefest of vocal appearances on the album - dropping in some backing vocals here and there - but he is ever-present and his guitar work adds some magical touches on several occasions. I suspect he's also in charge of what sounds like a kazoo and a touch of whistling.

The album also gives Ward plenty of room to demonstrate his production talents - building up the perfecty positioned retro sound of the album, which manages to show considerable restraint with so many opportunities to break out the brass section - especially next to this year's far less restrained 50's/60's throwback, The Last Shadow Puppets. The sweeping slide guitar of down trodden-broken-hearted-country-ballad Change Is Hard is magical and the Carole King-esqu Thought I saw Your Face builds to a soaring finale, while I Was Made For You finds Deschanel providing her own do-wop backing vocals.

Patsy Cline, Dusty Springfield, Carole King - the reference points span far and wide, but still this album manages to maintain a surprising air of originality. Solid pop with a bit of depth, the songs are never too long - making for a concise, cohesive, continually entertaining album, tied together mostly by the attidude of delivery, which even when potentially maudlin seems continually upbeat.

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18th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Dark Knight

(dir. Christopher Nolan)

Harrowing. Searching. Compelling. If only Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight stopped there we could have possibly emerged from the Greater Union cineplex on Sydney’s George Street unscathed.

But Nolan wields his artform masterfully and knows his audience only too well - even when we don’t ask for more, he knows we want more and he delivers.

To watch Dark Knight is to undergo a cinematic interrogation. And it’s unsettling from the outset to confront not just the many questions Nolan is asking – good vs evil, right vs might, ambition vs reality and the many vs the few – but also the way in which he is asking them.

From the gritty opening frames of a bank heist you get the feeling Nolan has jumped into the trench right alongside you and that’s a pretty ballsy statement of claim from the guy who knocked out the flawless Batman Begins. Blockbuster sequels too often become cinematic comfort food. Nolan could have gotten away here with dishing up more of the same and most of us would have still come away pretty happy... y’know, a bit of moody darkness against the backdrop of some dazzling special effects, a couple of explosions and the odd menacing baddie... anything that erodes the travesty of Michael Keaton’s vaudevillian portrayal of Batman.

Instead, like so many of the characters in this film Nolan has turned his back on the easy option. The results are mind blowing and along the way he has produced a film every member of an entire generation wishes they could have made.

Believe the hype, Heath Ledger’s Joker will go down in history as one of the greatest silver screen performances and it’s almost a subconscious reflection of one of this film’s powerful recurring themes, the many vs the few, given the richness of the cast. Nonetheless it’s rare to see an entire cast come so totally to grips with a screenplay and deliver it in unison. Ledger, Christian Bale, Aaron Eckhart, Gary Oldman, Morgan Freeman and Michael Caine. Nuff said.

It’s almost as if Nolan and his gang realised early on just how potent a brew they had on their hands. As this flick tears through its paces they start to pull off tricks, twists and turns simply because they can. And it works. When Batman swoops to deliver swift justice to a Chinese fugitive in Hong Kong, it’s Caesar Pelli’s 88-storey IFC that looks as if it was created as a prop for this flick and not as the most astounding skyscraper in a city of astounding skyscrapers.

Treading through the many reviews (this one included) that have emerged in the whitewater of Dark Knight’s release around the world one thing becomes clear – words alone are simply not enough to describe what occurs during a tumultuous two and half hours on screen. In any event, anyone who has seen it will be deeply affected in one way or another. Do yourself a favour and waste no more time trying to decipher what they’re trying to tell you. Pad up, get yer helmets on and get yourself a good seat.

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#BigE

17th Jul 2008 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

My Morning Jacket

The Forum, Kentish Town, London

After a European tour and a spell at various festivals, My Morning Jacket were back in London to round things off with a show at the Forum, before heading to Benicassim and then back for a US tour, culminating in a headlining spot at Madison Square Garden on New Year's Eve.

After the disappointment of the recent Evil Urges album, I was hoping that mis-step would would have little effect on My Morning Jacket's legendary live shows - but unfortunately it's repercussions haven't stopped there. Title track Evil Urges made for an untypically muted opening, but some older favourites plugged the hole - and with the heavy groove of Off The Record the show started to pick up, finding it's stride with Gideon and old time classic The Way That He Sings.

Unfortunately, a trio of new songs (Two Halves / Sec Walkin' / Thank You Too) then slowed the show to a crawl, as even through they make are some of the more conventional recent tracks, they just don't have the emotional clout of previous classics. Even the band seemed less enthusiastic with this newer material, ham-stringed by the fact that for the most part they eschew the band's most obvious weapon - Jim James stellar voice. Attempts to beef up the tracks with extended work-outs just made things worse, and it took Lay Low to get things back on track. Any performance that requires strapping on an extra guitar half way through deserves accolade, and the band whipped the audience into a hairy rock frenzy. Like a mad Mick Hucknall, James even had a "cape roadie" to assist him when his victorian outer-garment slipped of in the chaos.

Playing out in much the same way as the recent album, the gig may have been slow to get going but was ultimately rewarding. By the time of Smokin' From Shootin' and Touch Me Part 2, the band were back to their old ways - huddled around the drum riser for a more impassioned and suitable guitar work-out.

Like a re-release with a bonus live EP, the show moved on from the Evil Urges-heavy set-list and back to the MMJ we know and love. James was back on stage solo for an acoustic run through of Golden and into an encore that found the band revving up for awesome work-outs of Phone Went West, Dondante, Anytime and a monster finale from One Big Holiday. All in all, plenty to write home about, but for a band capable of 'unbelievable' we had to settle for just 'pretty awesome'.

See more photos on our Flickr page.

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17th Jul 2008 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Mugison

Mugiboogie

Taking it's lead from the Blues, Mugison's third album finds him re-working many well-travelled lyrics (shaking hips, making sweet love) and giving them a new, Icelandic twist. The signs of a transition away from the bedroom electronics of earlier records had started to appear on 2004's Mugimama Is This Monkey Music, with the awesome highlight track Murr Murr - and here that sound has grown even bigger, enlisting a full band to enhance the quirky front man's bone crushing cacaphony.

With his departure from Matthew Herbert's Accidental Records, the transition to fully fledged rockstar is complete - the crunching guitars and hammond organ of title track Mugiboogie, the dirty guitar solos, the handpicked sound of The Pathetic Anthem - this is an album that is much more organic than his previous work, electric, rather than electronic, raw and energetic. Mugison's status has also grown considerably since the last album, releasing records through Mike Patton's Ipecac label in the US and touring with the likes of Queens Of The Stone Age. Even the cover has a rock star touch, embossed in gold over faux leather.

While in some ways things are more straightforward here than his previous efforts, to a newcomer this will still undoubtedly seem eclectic and unhinged. The schizophrenic Death Metal of Two Thumb Sucking On A Boyo is a little hard to deal with and the hopolong country of The Pathetic Anthem drags on a bit. Harry Nillson meets Napalm Death might not sound like a recommendation, but there's plenty to write home about. The Great Unrest is a particluarly moving highlight, while Deep Breathing is reminiscent of another Mugimama stand-out, 2Birds.

I insist that you make the effort to see Mugison live, as more than anything his recorded work serves as an exhillerating document of his enthraling live shows, joyfully reminiscing over all of the captivating highlights.

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16th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Pop Levi

Never Never Love

Counter Records

Pop Levi (aka Jonathan Pop Levi) builds on the promise of 2007's The Return to Form Black Magick Party with this collection of upbeat tambourine-shaking 60s-flavoured boppy songs.

As you'd expect from someone who started out playing bass in Ladytron, there's a strong element of electronica here, but it's blended in with a groovy sensibility - fat Human League-style synth basslines over handclaps in Dita Dimoné etc. You can almost imagine Austin Powers getting down to this if he showed up in a club in 2008 (not to imply it's a joke album, far from it, but there's a lightness of touch to a lot of the tracks here - a track called Mai's Space, and the YouTube-friendly video for Semi-Babe for example).

Might be one of those albums that works better as something to plunder for a mix-tape (or whatever the kids are calling them these days - hit Wannamama, Dita Dimoné, Oh God (What Can I Do?) or Never Never Love for a satisfying sample) but overall it's a fun summery sound.

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15th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Albert Hammond Jr.

?C?mo Te Llama?

Rough Trade

While The Strokes seem to have faltered in preparation for a follow up to 2006's excellent First Impressions Of Earth, guitarist Albert Hammond Jr has managed to put out debut solo album Yours To Keep in late 2006 and now followed it up with a second album - ¿Cómo Te Llama?

There are still echos of The Strokes sound - the rolling guitars of Victory At Monterey, the pounding bass line of Borrowed Time - but this is very much a solo album, and as such has a much more small-scale vibe than one of the band records. There's a bedroom-studio attitude thoughout, even if that bedroom might be lavishly kitted out, and the DIY vibe of bands like Guided By Voices even pops up here and there - which doesn't surprise me, star spotters, as I once spotted the man himself at one of the NYC shows of GBV's Electrifying Conclusion tour.

Having said all that, the record is infinitly more fleshed out than Yours To Keep, with Hammond backed by a more consistent band, as well as guest appearances from the likes of Sean Lennon. Moving beyond the ditties, things really have some meat on them with tracks like the Lennon-esqe, Bargain Of The Century (John, not Sean) or the crunching guitars of The Boss Americana. The releatively light-hearted sound of Hammond's solo work lifts some of the weight of expectation faced by the ever-hyped Strokes, and here we have the sound a productive songwriter getting a few things out of his system, working on ideas and generally letting things grow and develop. While Hammond doesn't have a classic voice as such, it has a character of his own and serves nicely to float over the wide range of musical ideas explored here - from the military drums of Rocket, to the reggae-tinged Miss Myrtle, or even the Miss Marple-tinged tinkles of charming instrumental Spooky Couch.

There's a fast and loose vibe to this summery album - which focuses on the good times in life and makes for a refreshing change. Due to its marked difference in style, it would be misleading to suggest that this album will fill the gap while you wait for a new Strokes album - but it is a good listen in its own right and provides clear evidence that at least a certain percentage of the engine behind that band is still ticking over nicely.

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14th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Justice

Live at Somerset House, 11 July 2008

Ed Banger

Ah the English summer. Standing around in the great outdoors, drink in hand, waiting for a band to come on stage, willing the rain to stop... Audiences here are nothing if not committed to having a good time, which almost makes it okay when you find yourself standing around in the rain for hours in the name of entertainment. 

Last time I tried to catch a gig at Somerset House Al Qaida managed to disrupt my plans to see Queens Of The Stoneage, so I was pretty glad when support act Late Of The Pier turned up. Sounded a bit like someone updating Devo, all angular beats and noisy keyboard lines, but quite a bouncy set, and they made the most of all the umbrellas in the audience.

Tonight though belonged to the mighty Justice, one of the few acts in recent times who've managed to push beyond the whole "two men, two laptops" problem of presenting live dance music. They're still standing there, twiddling away, but somehow the presence of a giant neon cross bookended by two giant stacks of Marshall amps on either side of the stage elevates their set. It also helps that the music sounds so great live: they beef up an already very beefy (boeufy?) album with killer live versions, milking all the breakdowns and drum crescendos whenever possible - it's not subtle, but it's totally effective. 

Even with the July rain coming down through the set, umbrellas joining all the phones (and hands) in the air, there was still a total party vibe bouncing off the elegant 18th century walls. D.A.N.C.E., DVNO, Waters Of Nazareth etc all sounded great, with the trademark Justice bit-crunched production powered by body-shaking bass. Biggest moment of the night was reserved for the unstoppable We Are Your Friends, a great version that started off a cappella and seemed to go on for about half an hour before they finally let the rest of the tune drop, while a helicopter hovered overhead ("Sarge, we're just going to see what that, erm, disturbance is over by the Strand tonight... no, nothing to report, but we're going to, erm, just stick around for a bit just in case... Roger, over.")

Catch them if you can.

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12th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Ratatat

LP3

XL Recordings

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

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

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

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#BC

11th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

White Denim

Workout Holiday

Full Time Hobby

My apologies for the late arrival of this review but the sheer workload that is piled on me from this site means I tend to stop listening to a record once the review is done, and I really didn't want to stop listening to this. It seems as far as indie music is concerned all the ideas these days are coming from the US and arriving hot on the heals of the recent No Age record, White Denim's Workout Holiday not only reinforces this perception but positively hammers the point home.

Having been stuck in my car with only this CD for company, Workout Holiday has literally been thoroughly road tested and due to the nature of this listening experience I started formulating some driving metaphors in my head. One of the most exciting features of this band is what I call their 'gear shift' capabilities and by that I mean their penchant for ditching an idle pace for a sudden and electrifying upshift. So I started comparing this record to the experience of, as a youngster, trading your crappy 1 litre MG Metro for a one-time-only excursion down the road in your dads car. But then comparing this band to a high performance dad-car couldn't be further from the truth, I would have to leave that to a Metallica album. No, White Denim is more like getting into the same piece-of-shit Metro with the rusty body-work, decrepit brakes and highly questionable frame, only to find someone has switched your 1 litre engine for a super hybrid piece of engineering complete with flux capacitor that runs on plutonium.

Workout Holiday is highly charged, punk-infused rock that knows no boundaries or limitations. It comes from the Austin, TX trio following their 2007 debut 7" EP Lets Talk About It. It features 4 tracks from the EP which is slightly disappointing, but has become one of the most exciting records to bombard my eager ears for some time. White Denim walk the precarious line between genius and utter chaos, with each song fooling you into thinking it has no clue where it's going. It's ramshackle guitar chords race headlong into the distance with the makeshift rhythm section struggling to keep up, and the vocals erratically punctuating this mess when and where they feel like it. The result is an electrifying run of songs, no two alike, that never end where they start and this unpredictability seems to catch you out every time, making each listen a unique experience.

The EP tracks still form some of the strongest of these 12. Both Lets Talk About It and the following track Shake Shake Shake follow similar structures with furious, guitar driven first halves being taken down a notch at the midway point for an emerging instrumental ending that constantly threatens to finish but, as if with shear enthusiasm, keeps going and going. Sitting changes the pace with a bar-room singalong that sees singer James Petralli opening the vocals like Anthony And The Johnsons. It's a jaunty little number and the most conventional on the album.

Mess Your Hair Up seems to embody this band perfectly. It's opening section is a pretty non-descript mess of buried vocals, but as the mess gets thicker the feint screech of a guitar chord rises from the bog and takes the song off into unforeseen territory. As usual the band seem to be enjoying this change-up so much that they keep it going, reinventing different drum patterns just as the song should be finishing. Towards the end of the record comes a late heavyweight in the form of Don't Look That Way At It. Opening with a sound as erratic as a bucket of marbles being poured over a guitar, it sets up a bubbling cacophony of noise that trickles along at a steady pace, it maintains this complex and crammed formation until the midway point where the fuel injectors kick in The deep drums suddenly give way to crashing snare and cymbal and the complex guitar arrangements are smoothed out to driving chords. It's impressive to say the least.

The two instrumental songs here, Look That Way At It and WDA, sound less like conscious decisions to give space to the record and more like a band who are making things up as they go along and are way too into their instruments to bother with vocals, which may be in there somewhere but have been long buried beneath the ever mounting layers of sound. And this goes some way to describe this album. Each song stumbles into the other and the record just delivers idea after idea without becoming precious about any. They'll set up an impressive first half then tear it down like reckless hooligans. And here lies the diamond in this rough album. A better record may well crop up this year but I doubt if I will see such a reckless approach to an album. As one idea is discarded for another you get the impression that this liberation comes from a knowledge that there are more to follow. You get to the end of the album and instead of wanting to rewind you want to hear the next record, but as this isn't possible you'll have to settle for back to back plays. Highly recommended.

#Music
#BC

10th Jul 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Beck

Modern Guilt

XL/Interscope

Beck teams up with Danger Mouse for his most satisfying album for a while. Much less jokey and random, Modern Guilt is like looking through a digital kaleidescope at the 60s; nostalgic, but not lost in that preserve-the-Beatle-dust sensibility you get in a lot of retro projects. Think Caribou with some tunes.

Ten tight songs of densely-packed psychedelia, upbeat Stax rhythms and fuzzbox guitars that all wraps up at a very compact 30 minutes (why is it that the dawn of the "compact disc" ushered in the age of the anything-but compact album?). This is a set of songs so short you immediately want to play the whole thing again; when was the last time you felt like that?

Single Chemtrails is a dreamy ode to planes with some great drum-fills, Gamma Ray grooves along at a dancey pace and album closer Volcano brings things to a finish with a melancholy dusting-off of some of Beck's trademark questioning: "I don't know if it's my illusions that keep me alive."

Danger Mouse seems to be having a busy time at the moment - Gnarls Barkley came back, and he's also been behind the desk for the Shortwave Set, The Good, The Bad and The Queen and Martina Topley Bird's new one The Blue God. He's obviously on a roll, but the work rate hasn't taken its toll.

If you haven't taken the Beck train for a while, this is a short ride worth hopping back on board for.

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8th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Tricky

Knowle West Boy

Domino

Knowle West Boy kicks off with Puppy Toy, a bluesy bar-room brawl being played out late at night; Bacative sounds like a Maxinquaye outtake, C'mon Baby's a stomp-rock and Council Estate is the sort of song that only Tricky can pull off - 2:39 of what's basically a single riff packed with furious drums that can barely contain their excitement at getting to pull off another roll, vocals dropping into dub echo chambers, Rage Against The Machine-style distortion that all stops as suddenly as it starts. Throughout this great album there are harmonicas floating over ragga-lines, smokey female voices, keyboard washes, rock guitars, heavy heavy beats - and a Kylie cover thrown in for the fun of it. 

There's so much going on in this album it puts most other recent records to shame - it's like Tricky has absorbed everything that's great about British music and distilled it here, leaping around without worrying about "confusing his audience" or "not being coherent" or any of that marketing crapola that blands out so much of focus grouped modern culture. It's hyperactive without being ADD - there's so much attention to detail here, so much love of the sheer joy of making music, that it's a totally infectious, convincing project.

It's like he's made a great mixtape using only Tricky songs. He so generous with singing duties, employing so many different vocalists (especially women) that it's easy to keep checking your iPod to make sure it hasn't slipped into shuffle after a few tracks. 

Like Beck's new one Modern Guilt (released on the same day), it's a return to form that makes you remember why you thought he was so great in the first place (and makes you think you might have been missing out in the interim).

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7th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Biffy Clyro

Singles 2001 - 2005

Beggars Banquet

Scottish rockers Biffy Clyro have conveniently rounded up their singles from 2001- 2005 in one handy CD. Following the band's departure from Beggars Banquet, this compilation has been criticised as a contract filler - but the problems with it stretch far beyond that. If a compilation of 12 radio edited singles can't sell a band I don't know what will.

Biffy Clyro's surf-drenched sound may be reasonably unique for a British band (and particularly a Scottish one), but it's a far less unique proposition on a global level. Stone Temple Pilots? Check. Nickleback? Check. Point Break soundtrack? Check. In fact the dates covered by this compilation (2001-2005) provide the most confusion, as you'd be forgiven for thinking you'd fallen through a wormhole and landed in the post-grunge mid 90's. Receiving comparisons as prestigious as 'Nirvana!' over the years, at best they are a struggling Smashing Pumpkins homage, at worst not dissimilar to our very own surf-rockers - Reef (R.I.P 1993 - 2003). This is medium heavy rock, primed and ready for use in an unleash-your-inner-rocker style mobile phone ad - as a mainstream corporate beheamoth attempts to rebrand itself as 'down with the kids'.

While the emotional lyrics are all there on paper (blackened skies, heartbreak, sitting mournfully on the beach) I'm pretty sure the troubles drift away as they paddle out into the Newquay surf. It's rarely offensive or unlistenable, but there's just not much here to recommend. You might be better off trying last year's album proper Puzzle....or Nevermind, by Nirvana.

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3rd Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

In Bruges

(dir. Martin McDonagh)

After a bungled hit, Irish killer Brendan Gleeson and his young trainee Colin Farrell are despatched to the charming Belgian city of Bruge to lay low. After a run-in with the local mob and an 'American' dwarf shooting a movie in the city, things take a turn for the worse and firm-but-fair big boss Ralph Fiennes is forced to come and take matters into his own hands.

While the trailer might suggest a lock-stock and standard gangster effort, Martin McDonagh's excellent script lifts this movie up to another level. Not a line is wasted as the back story of the characters is laid out, without ever making them seem like nice people.

While Farrell's performance initially seems over-acted, once you remember he actually is an Irish tough guy it settles down to nicely sketch out the mindless hard man with a conscience. Gleeson provides compassion as the older hitman with a debt to pay and Ralph Fiennes goes all Kingsley as the straight-talking East End boss.

Side-splitting, touching, thrilling and ultimately only 107 minutes long, don't think twice on this one. Shoot first, sightsee later.

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2nd Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Paul Weller

22 Dreams

Yep Roc Records

It's been a long time since I thought about getting a new Paul Weller album. Always liked The Jam, but was too young to really love them; totally got into The Style Council when they broke, and still rate Café Bleu as an all-time favourite; loved the freedom of the first two solo albums... but somehow, lost sight of what he's been up to for a bit. Guess it's something to do with being tarred with the whole "dad-rock" brush, or hanging out w the Gallaghers or something.

So it's a great surprise to get so into 22 Dreams. He rocks out, pulls it back, gets folkie, does some trippy jams, throws in some great lines, and just seems to be freer and enjoying the process more than he has for ages. 

Acoustic opener Light Nights floats into the storming Stax beat of the title track, which segues into classic Weller-in-love mode All I Wanna Do (Is Be With You). The breezy summer riffing of Have You Made Up Your Mind turns into the joyful strings of Empty Ring, then brings things down with piano on Invisible (even if it's a bit hard to believe the idea of Paul Weller being invisible, it's still a great song). 

Then the album pulls one of its many U-turns - heading into a full-on free jazz moment with no less than Robert Wyatt on trumpet in Song for Alice (Dedicated to the Beautiful Legacy of Mrs. Coltrane) - a totally convincing pastiche of Coltrane's psychedelic epics (although he keeps things to a restrained 3.38). It's a brilliant, left-field move, the sort of "well, why shouldn't I?" move that gives this album its energy that continues through pretty much the remaining 15 dreams here.

If you've ever been into any of Weller's many changing moods, this is a recommended return.

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1st Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Glastonbury Festival

Somerset

June 27th-29th, 2008

It's the scale that kills you. The cliches about it being a temporary city really are true - Glastonbury is huge. The stages are all great - loved the Park Stage especially, with Santogold, Franz Ferdinand and The Duke Spirit all on rocking form - but it's the sheer size that make this festival so special. As a GlastonB virgin, it's such a different experience than spending all weekend dipping into the BBC's comprehensive coverage.

After taking a strategic decision to bail on the afternoon and make it back in time for the Euro final (and a seat on the train) it's funny seeing it on TV again. You're so close up, and you can see what the bands are actually up to, but you lose that amazing sense of being with thousands and thousands of freaks who are all up for a good time, from the weirdos in costumes (loved the cow and hotdog combo, and the banana/gorilla couple - the pig gimp mask being lead around by  a prosthetic cock was a little step too far at four in the afternoon...) to the kids in cricket jumpers watching Band Of Horses, or the unannounced acts like Franz Ferdinand popping up (always thought they were a bit overhyped, but they're a v good live proposition), and the chance to see new faves like Santogold (possibly my festival highlight) as well as Chimp hits like Band Of Horses and Black Mountain (breakfast rock? you can't beat it) and then big pop acts like Amy Winehouse, Duffy and Jay-Z - who put on a full-on show - totally subtle fuck-you to Noel Gallagher and then a great set full-on of hands-in-the-air hits.

Missed Dizzee Rascal, The Ranconteurs, Hot Chip and Edwyn Collins, (and Vampire Weekend, who pulled the Jay-Z diamonds-in-the-air trick for their night time version of Oxford Comma). Heard they were all great - but did catch an impromptu jazz set from a random trio who'd somehow dragged a clarinet, sax and double bass all the way up to the stone circle for sunrise on sunday morning - had to summon the force myself to get up there, so maximum points for effort to them all lugging that all up there. The other surprise hit was wandering into Trash City (imagine a disco zone in Mad Max 3 are you're halfway there) and finding the full-on hands in the air party that Horsemeat Disco were putting on in the NYC Downlow club - brilliant trannied up mood, with a dark, sweaty murder on the dancefloor vibe. Totally entertaining, with fake taches given out as the get-you-back-in passes.

Bailed early on Sunday to get back up for the real world on Monday so caught The Verve and Neil Diamond on the BBC's catch up, but totally loved it. If you haven't been: do it. 

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#Gig
#chimp71

30th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Radiohead

Victoria Park, London

June 24th, 2008

In our recent interview with Silver Jews front man David Berman, he described festivals as a form of mass date-rape, where you get a load of willing victims into a field and rob them of what they think they hold dear. He also directed a few comments towards Radiohead, so while I stood for hours in a queue for beer in Victoria Park for the first night of the Radiohead extravaganza, my thoughts turned towards Berman's comments and what he might make of this. The band had turned Victoria Park into their own festival and it was huge. Swarms of people queued for food and drink, Berman would have puked. When the band started up, my intentions of getting near to the front were seriously downgraded so I had to settle for 80 meters back catching a fleeting glimpse of the pin prick on the horizon that I presumed was Thom Yorke.

So the venue was way too big, there were way too many dickheads in the crowd who had clearly come to chat to one-another rather than watch the show and I was way too far away for my liking. But, the music was sensational. I realised that night that Radiohead's music needs to be heard under an open sky. In this context it doesn't matter where you are standing as simply turning your gaze skyward releases this music into infinity where it belongs. It was such a still night and the sound drifted across to me perfectly. Set-wise it was a different story to the Hammersmith gig in 2006, with pretty much all of In Rainbows getting a thorough airing along with many choice morsels from Kid Amnesiac. Hail To The Thief was severely neglected with only There There representing and when any of the older songs cropped up they were not your usual choices. But this was the story of the night for me. I've heard Karma Police, Paranoid Android, The Bends and Fake Plastic Trees countless times live, but tonight it was a case of rediscovering under appreciated gems. Jonny Greenwood excelled himself on many occasions but his layered sampling on Climbing Up The Walls was truly stunning and coupled with Yorke's hauntingly lazy vocals this emerged as a surprising high point.

With each Radiohead gig I attend, I crave less and less these old favorites as the new songs - whether released or not - are so fresh and live. In Rainbows doubled in size under this still night sky with songs like Reckoner, Jigsaw and the chilling atmospherics of Videotape beaming up into the air with euphoric majesty. As Yorke retreated to the second drum kit for Bangers & Mash, Jonny Greenwood was left unattended up the front - an opportunity he seized with both hands providing a seriously fucked up, twisted version of this already raw track with avant guard screeches darting from his contorted guitar like a modern-day Coltrane. The whole evening was brought to an all too early close with one of the best moments of the night. The two big screens that flanked the stage displayed some multi angle camera work split into 4 sections, but as the opening chords of You And Who's Army? crept into view the whole screen was filled with a huge Yorke eye as he stretched up to pear into the lens. This minimal song with it's weary vocals accompanied by this all-seeing eye was mesmerising and as it gave way to the frenetic beats of Idioteque the night was complete.

Outdoor gigs always take shape as night falls and never has this been more true than here. As Yorke emerged after the encore and played a stripped down piano version of The Eraser's Cymbal Rush you could have heard a pin drop out there in that park. The shear size of the venue occasionally diluted the experience, as it's hard to feel connected to a band when you're so far away - but for a long term fan like myself to be reintroduced to songs I know so well is a treat and an unexpected delight. This band have all bases covered, from the light show to the live video art that attempts to do way more than simply show the people at the back what's going on. I would have to disagree with Mr. Berman, as on leaving the park I was buoyant with having been in the presence of greatness and though I strained to see anything and queued for an eternity in my own personal headspace I was flying.

#Music
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27th Jun 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Criminal Justice

(dir. Otto Bathurst, Luke Watson)

BBC

Excellent thriller running over five consecutive nights on BBC1 (Mon 30 Jun - Fri 4 Jul) that manages to combine elements of prison, police and the legal system to bring a 360 sense of what it's like to be thrust into a murder trial. 

Ben Whishaw (Perfume, Nathan Barley) wakes up after a wild night to find there's blood on his hands (literally), panics, and then finds himself the prime suspect in a gory murder. 

What's great here is that each episode shows the experience from as many different perspectives and in as many arenas as possible. We get the full-on Oz-like terror of suddenly finding yourself in a British prison, not knowing who to trust or make deals with. There's the confusion of being grilled by the police while your brief is advising you to offer "no comment" to everything, even though you just want to explain yourself. There's the frustration of the arcane legal system, making deals behind the scenes, playing a dangerous game of oneupmanship in court. The tension of his parents who don't quite know what to believe. The desperate loneliness of a suspect who can't even fully trust himself because he simply can't remember what happened.

The top-notch cast includes Pete Postlethwaite, David Harewood, Bill Paterson, Con O'Neill and Lindsay Duncan.

Not sure how it's going to do in this format - five straight nights is probably no more commitment than catching Big Brother every night, but it's worth setting the Sky+ for or iPlayering (is that a verb yet?) it all - you shouldn't miss any of this. 

#TV
#chimp71

27th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Windsor For The Derby

How We Lost

Secretly Canadian

Certainty is luxury these days, I mean to really know something for sure be it good or bad. I know England aren't going to go out of Euro 2008 to Portugal, I know I'll never pay money to see a Tarantino movie again. Musically, I know I'd rather stick pins up under my finger nails than go to a Kaiser Chiefs concert and that Michael Jackson's Billie Jean is one of the greatest 3 minutes life is likely to provide. So all these things are banked, I know where I stand, but the same can't be said for my feelings for Windsor For The Derby. In my vast gamete of appreciation that holds Billie Jean at one end and Kaiser Chiefs at the piss stinking other, Windsor For The Derby would probably fit in the better half - occasionally creeping towards the top but then slipping back down to the wasteland of the middle ground. When they creep slowly in the direction of the the hallowed Billie Jean pinnacle it would be during the eight minutes plus of the blissful The Melody Of A Fallen Tree which opened their 2004 album We Fight Till Death. This song is so pleasing, so complete and so sublime it tears the rest of the record down around it. The record is by no means bad, in fact there are some great moments but none that come close to its opener, and the same could be said for their follow up, How We Lost.

The success of The Melody Of A Fallen Tree throws my certainty out the window with this band. My love for it casts a searching eye around the songs that lie at its feet and though their are many a fine moment on How We Lost I am agin left wanting and confused. None of them come anywhere near the depths of the Keiser Chiefs but in a way I wish they would, at least then I'd know where I stand.

This band's talent lies in 2 thongs, their courage to go on past 4 minutes, although only 2 of them hit the 5 minute mark here, and their Krautrock/Joy Division/ New Order tendencies. When all of these things happen in the same song their position on the scale shifts in their favor. The album starts off well with the hollow sounding Let Go kicking things off and the gritty guitars of Maladies continuing the momentum. Fallen Off The Earth sees the band in familiar territory with steady rhythm building slowly but surely to a subtly layered finale. But it's Hold On that picks this album up by the scruff of it's neck and carries it to greener pastures. Running down the center of the record Hold On's patience and persistence reminds me of why I think I sort of like this band. It maintains the same steady pace as its predecessors but where lesser songs would reach for the fade button this one forges on, long outlasting the gentle vocals with a majestic guitar solo. It aint Melody but hey, it's getting there.

The trouble is it's surrounded by the usual fillers that ultimately condemn this album to yet another not quite memorable effort that does little to convince me of my opinion of this band. There's way too many ambient time wasters that only serve to dry up the once rich pastures of the mentioned high points, leaving a slightly moist wasteland of mediocrity.

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26th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Soe'za

7 Obstacles

Gringo

Of late it seems that any music that has really caught my imagination and got me all excited (in the way that only good new music can) has tended to have been shipped across from America or Canada. Seemingly most of the new British Made bands rising to the top seem to follow the same unremarkable formula. However, happen as it gives me great pleasure to say that this sterling album from Soe’za has only been and gone and been made by a large bunch of fertile minded people from the South West of England.

Judging by their stats the band get two thumbs up from me: 7 or 8 people (since seeing Broken Social Scene live again I’m convinced that more is more), two drummers (name me a bad band who has two drummers), a pleasant blend of his’n’her vocals (harmonious), a cello (hello), the usual bass and guitars (check), and – best of all – a French Horn that rounds the sound marvellously (nice brass).

The album has a vital and urgent intensity throughout (shown best on ‘Don’t Bother Coming Home’) which is nicely balanced by a couple of warming instrumentals with the French Horn taking centre stage. They’ve been compared to Fugazi and Deerhoof, but if that means nothing to you then what you’re looking at / listening to is, simply put, your Alternative-Art-Rock-Improv-Noisy-Punk-Indie-Post-Hardcore genre. Which sounds a lot better than it reads.

Now then, I’ll admit that I don’t always pay close attention to lyrics (I can easily like a great tune with poor lyrics, but great lyrics over a rubbish tune might well pass me by), but some of the pleasantly odd rants and rambles did stand out here. Such as on ‘Any Road’: “Peering through the glass / there is an old dear / scrutinising the cream cakes / how long will they last?”. Sadly they never reveal the sell by date, but happily there are several more moments of bizarre lyrics which, with the occasional hint of that West Country lilt, they ably pull it off where others might not.

7 Obstacles confirms that brass is underrated and underused and that there are some really interesting British bands out there drawing up their own musical blueprints. All told, happen as I think this album is tip-top and one of the most interesting I’ve heard for some time.

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25th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

sigur r?s

me? su? ? eyrum vi? spilum endalaust

...that's "with a buzz in our ears we play endlessly" in case your Icelandic isn't up to scratch... Yes, the epic scope of Sigur Rós returns for a fifth round of triumphant confusion and soundtracks to films that don't exist.

Opener Gobbledigook gets things underway with some acoustic guitars panning side-to-side, almost like a pop version of the SR sound: a cheeky nod to what detractors think of their Hopelandic lyrics?

Inní mér syngur vitleysingur builds up with a great looping chorus that's at the heart of their appeal (for non Icelandic speakers) - it's so powerful and so joyous, you want to sing along, but you've got no idea what it's about, or even what the words really are, so it becomes imbued with meaning/passion/feeling that's all their in the way it's being sung, rather than what's being sung.

með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust continues on great form: Festival is, yes, going to go down really well with any audiences lucky enough to catch them in a field this year - clocking in at a marathon 9.24 - as will the equally cinematic Ára bátur (8.57), recorded with the London Sinfonietta

That said, it's interesting to hear them taking things down a notch with the simplicity of tracks like Íllgresi, Straumnes and the restrained grandeur of All Alright. This is a powerful, moving record that nudges towards a new course for the good ship SS Sigur Rós, without losing their individual take on compass reading.

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24th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Grace Jones

Meltdown 2008, Royal Festival Hall

Grace Jones is the sort of star you can't quite believe actually exists. When she arrives on stage, it's like she's been beamed in on some hyperlink from Venus, or you've been transported into Studio 54 on Tatooine - not like you've just walked in from a sunny evening off the Thames. You hear a lot about stage presence, of artists captivating audiences, but when you see someone of her immense talent, playing at such a high level, you start to realise what can be done in the live arena. 

The first sight of her is the new video for Corporate Cannibal - monochrome shots of her distinctive face, distorted, stretched out, morphing into weird shapes - a simple effect, that captures and accentates that feeling that's she's not quite from this planet. 

Then, when she finally arrives, there's the physical presence - towering up the outsized steps on stage, instantly recognisable behind the screen and the smoke. 

There's the costumes - for a while it's pretty much a new outfit for every number - each throwing different shapes into the enormous fan onstage, huge capes billowing into the corners of the stage, impossible stilettos, nutty hats...

Then, there's the voice - with all the spectacle and show you almost forget just how great it is. The deep, dark, sultry drawl that propels classics like Pull Up To The Bumper, lifts into some astonishing notes and phrasing on torch anthems like La Vie En Rose, before punctuating it all with some hilarious stage banter that kills off any ice queen trivia. 

It's a great set - packed with all the hits - and a couple of new ones, which even she doesn't know (so she just makes it up). The band are super tight, a charged, tense version of that dub-disco sound that Sly and Robbie pioneered for her. Love Is The Drug is kicked out at almost punk speed, with a thin green laser shooting down onto a mirror ball bowler hat she's wearing, the lights splintering off at a hundred miles an hour - an amazing, kinetic effect that makes it look like she's frenetic, when in fact she's standing still, almost taking a break. 

She's also probably the only artist called Grace you'll see who's got the nerve to sing Amazing Grace. Is it a cheeky joke? A nod to her divatastic reputation? A homage to her religious upbringing in Jamaica? Or all of the above? Whatever, it's an apt description, and another classic moment in a great show.

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23rd Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Hancock

(dir. Peter Berg)

Sony Pictures

Easy sell for this: Will Smith = alcoholic superhero. Throw in another great exercise in comic timing from Jason "Arrested Development" Bateman and a slow-burner from Charlize Theron and you've got a winner. 

Bateman's a PR exec who takes on Hancock's case after being saved from a train wreck (Hancock does the train-wrecking), and tries to rework his image so LA starts seeing him as a hero, and not a super-strong bum. Theron is Bateman's homely wife, who doesn't want to see him get burned by a loser like Hancock.

Director Peter Berg proved he could pull off a smart thriller with The Kingdom and he expands on that here, pushing the d-runk flying, whale-chucking, city-trashing jokes as far as they'll go - and then flipping the movie into a whole other zone after the first act. Worked as a nice surprise for me after seeing the trailer - which gives zero hints about where it's heading - so we'll leave it at that here. It's enough to say: this is darker than it looks, and more interesting. The action works, but it's the smaller moments that makes this film so enjoyable - Hancock using his super-strength to shave, popping out bulletproof glass with a flick etc - it's a like a kitchen sink drama (where they occasionally chuck the kitchen sink out of the kitchen).

A few more points in its favour: 

*First ever on-screen cameo from Berg's mentor Michael Mann.

*One of the few big-budget films in recent years to come in at the chimp-approved 92 minute-mark. Apparently there was a two-hour cut which may appear on the eventual dvd, and there are a few moments where you wonder if they've chopped out some backstory (mainly with the film's designated Brit baddie Eddie Marsan) - but I'd take that over a bloated two-hour blahthon anyday. 

* The DFA mix of MIA's Paper Planes is playing when they hit one of LA's cool restaurants

*It's a drunk superhero - what's not to love?

#Film
#chimp71

21st Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet