Chimpomatic

The Great Depression

Forever Altered

Fire

There’s nothing really wrong with Forever Altered - the new album from The Great Depression. The songs are all nicely arranged and you can tell they’re a talented bunch, but there’s just not much here that’s terribly interesting or new. For some reason listening to the album reminded me of a painful experience I haven’t had to endure for a long time: trying to sit through a pre-turning-to-electronica-and-somehow-becoming-cool Everything But The Girl record, but…without the girl.

The album seems to stay at the same pace throughout which may contribute to the slightly-left-of-the-middle-of-the-road blandness of the record. In fact, by the time it swings round to the last track Colliding, the monotony is such that I thought the album had clicked back round to the start (prompting me to worriedly look at my new ipod to make sure the track count didn’t force it into the top 25).

Only on a couple of occasions do they deliver something that chimes. On Ill Prepared, the melancholy lifts ever so slightly and they let it rip a little while managing to nail some catchy vocal riffs and nice harmonies. With They’re Making Us Look Green, the Denmark based Americans have a stab at an expansive and uplifting number - which is pretty good too.

Now then, I’ll confess that I’ve not heard any of their previous albums and I’ll concede that this might well be one of those bands and/or one of those albums where you have to be in the right frame of mind to really get into the thing. Sadly, I wasn’t and didn’t on this one. It seems like they’ve shown a lot of promise before, which doesn’t appear to have been realised on this one.

#Music
#Locochimpo

19th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Tell No One

(dir, Guillaume Canet)

Based on Harlan Coben's novel, Tell No One (or Ne le dis à personne as they say in France) follows the story Alex Beck, whose wife is murdered. Eight years later he finds himself implicated in another murder, when suddenly he receives an email - apparently from his dead wife.

Harlan Coben is is known for his twisting story-lines and surprisingly the novel is seamlessly transposed from the US to Paris - making for a quintessentially French film. The French seem to be hitting all the right notes with this kind of plausible thriller recently - from Caché to 36 Quai des Orfèvres. It's a solid piece of work which is genuinely thrilling and mysterious, while eschewing much of the Hollywood attention-grabbing antics that Brit films go for - focusing instead on a good story, good script and good acting. That's not to say it doesn't have any style, as it's very well directed with a some thoughtful camera work in all the appropriate places, as well as some superbly edited set pieces. Dustin Hoffman-alike François Cluzet is convincing in the thoroughly confused lead role and a nicely worked sub-plot ties some suburban Parisian gang-bangers to great effect.

At the end of the day there's maybe a twist too far, but in an age of unwarranted pyrotechnics and fanfare this is an old-fashioned thriller that comes thoroughly recommended. 

#Film
#CSF

17th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Weezer

Weezer (a.k.a. The Red Album)

2008

The game is up. I'm not gonna take it anymore. Since 2000's self-titled third album (AKA "The Green Album"), Weezer have been distracting me with the smoke and mirrors of the catchy single/great video combo, while sneaking out a sub-standard album peppered with holes. Hash Pipe provided the magic for that album, while Dope Nose led off Maladroit and Beverly Hills pulled the wool over our eyes for Make Believe.

In fact, that only leaves two albums worth mentioning. The debut "Blue Album" snuck under the radar back in '94 - admittedly backed up by great videos. Follow-up Pinkerton might explain much, as it was universally panned by both critics and fans, before growing in stature to become Weezer's undisputed masterpiece - and one of my own all-time favourites. Auteur band leader River Cuomo laid bare his emotional soul over the Madame Butterfly-themed concept album, but the backlash was what almost certainly forced Cuomo back into the proverbial cave, convincing him to spend the rest of his life in tortured purgatory, writing inane troubled-pop star melodrama.

Couple that with the fact that every album since Pinkerton has made a fortune and the maths of spending a reported million dollars recording this pile of crap are hard to deny. Baring your soul for pennies is no one's idea of fun.

But, here lies the main problem. 4 albums later, while the guitars crunch onwards all he ever seems to tell us is how troubled he is and how the critics don't understand - but the more songs he writes about the critics not understanding, the shorter and shorter the patience runs. "No more words will critics have to speak" sing the band on the faux operatic The Greatest Man That Ever Lived (Variations On A Shaker Hymn), re-working the classroom classic with little improvement. If the troubled soul isn't airing it's dirty laundry, it's mucho macho ironic chest-beating ...leading to the stunning rhyme of 'be-atch' with 'ki-ads'. While these inane rhyming couplets provide some amusiment in places, you'll generally be laughing at them, not with them.

Just when you might think Rivers' has stooped as low as he can go, he commits this albums mortal sin: letting the other guys have a go too. Thought I Knew finds guitarist Brian Bell taking the vocals for a slice of trite disco-pop, while drummer Pat Wilson takes lead vocals on Automatic. I dare you to find a more bland slice of by-the-numbers modern rock.

There's a whole bunch of different bonus tracks and what-not, depending on where you buy this record. They manage not to totally massacre a cover of The Band's The Weight and the Broadway musical rock of Miss Sweeney provides some entertaining role-playing as Cuomo smooth-talks his secretary in enjoyingly mis-rhymed lyrics. Heart Songs provides a slightly naff, but mildly touching highlight to the album, as Cuomo takes us through the songs that shaded his past, with the music changing and evolving as the time line progresses. Unfortunatly he wrote himself out of my Heart Songs several albums ago.

#Music
#CSF

16th Jun 2008 - 5 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Heroine Sheiks

Journey To The End Of The Knife

Amphetamine Reptile Records

Heroine Sheiks main man Shannon Selberg is one of America's most under-rated vocalists and lyricists:- easily dismissed as a crazy person due to his onstage exuberance, he's a master of getting a lot out of a little - painting lyrical scenarios of low-life and sleaze with just a few well chosen words set against his own brand funky punk.

Journey is the Sheiks fourth album and features an all new band line-up with Selberg having moved back home to his native Minneapolis after a spell in New York. The music retains the characteristics of the other Sheiks albums - a natural extension to the sound of Selberg's former band The Cows - but this album has more of a homebrew feel than it's predecessor Out Of Aferica. Opening track Be A Man is a stormer, a joyous slab of noise pop which you'll be singing along with at the first chorus, followed by the punked-up thrash of Hank's Pimp (an unsavoury jailhouse yarn if ever I heard one).

It's not their strongest album - both musically and lyrically it's less adventurous than previous releases and it clocks in at a modest 28 minutes for 8 songs (one of which is a bootleg-quality live track). Still, it has moments of sheer genius, with the lyrically dark Meurte Vous and the spaced-out groove of Co-Angle Phenomenon. AmRep are only printing a thousand of these, so if you're a Selberg fan you'd best get yourself a copy pretty damn sharp. Recommended ...and would have got more stars if it had more tracks.

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#HarrisPilton

13th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Wooden Shjips

Vol. 1

Holy Mountain

The other day I got a wide diameter drill bit, fastened it to a pretty heavy-duty machine and preceded to bore a hole steadily through my skull. Of course the pain was immense but the feeling I was after just wasn't there, it just wasn't doing it for me. So a friend said I should try the new singles collection by San Francisco quartet Wooden Shjips and you know what? It hit the mark a treat. If I was a purist in my reviewing ethos then I should really leave you here, but that would be doing a disservice to this band. I think perhaps they need further explanation. So by way of loyalty to you, my readers, I will attempt to listen to this record again.

Vol. 1 is a collection of Wooden Shjips' three previous releases that are now out of print. The 2006 free released EP Shrinking Moon For You, the Dance California 7" and the SOL 7" all received critical acclaim on release and rightly so. My drill analogy is actually spot-on if slightly childish. You'll see this from the opening track Shrinking Moon. Wooden Shjips pump out tightly wound psych rock on a grand scale. In the first few bars they introduce their tools, i.e. hazy guitar drone and often pounding rhythm and pretty much stick with this limited palette through the duration of the session, and it will seem like a session. They keep a steady pace, swirling from ear to ear in a psychedelic frenzy.

Shrinking Moon encapsulates this band perfectly and convincingly sets the agenda early on, and the agenda is: this is not mum, chick or office-friendly. At over eight and a half minutes long you'll be either electrified from the outset or seriously wishing you hadn't put this on. Its tempo is misleading as it hints at regularity with rhythmical guitars and jangling bells but after five minutes without a change you know you're dealing with a band with a keen eye on fucking with your brain. With buried vocals and screeching tones this opener is truly captivating in its single mindedness. But captivating it might be, it's not something you'll want to dwell on so I have to move on, sorry.

Deaths Not Your Friend ploughs similar territory but brings the vocals slightly more to the foreground while Space Clothes breaks from tradition totally and delivers looped interview samples played backwards and forwards all to the sound of running water, bird song and a fucking annoying mosquito like tone. Its effect is surprising as you start to wish for the drill bit again, you're starting to miss the pain you see. It's what all good torturers are taught to do.

Thankfully Clouds Over Earthquake starts the machine up and bores deeper than any other. It's a modest 4.16 minutes but boy does it hurt. The drums are virtually drowned out by the guitars here who manage to reach new heights in monotony and ear piercing agony.

Thank christ I only have two more songs to review before I can shoot myself in the head.

With the introduction of your new tormentor, Dance California takes it slow. The deal is the same but it just takes longer. Like a slow rain soaking you to the bone this song rides celestial waves of dreamy psychedelia but drips filth from every pore. Vocals ooze out in a drugged out haze, drenched in reverb and swirling organs.

One more...

You're on your knees now and as you look at the time line for the final track Sol '07 your heart sinks, 11.40. Your not going to survive this, they've won the psychological battle and your will starts to break. But they don't just want to break you, they want to change you profoundly. I'd like to tell you that Sol '07 traverses many tempos and levels during its marathon eleven minutes but to lie to you now would be cruel. It doesn't. It's steady, relentless, shrouded in muffled noise and never lets up, you can skip on all you like but it doesn't change, you'll think your skip button is bust, it ain't. It finishes off a seriously intense thirty five minutes that hurts like fuck but boy is it addictive. This band give you nothing but like a released prisoner missing his captor, you'll come begging for more. Vol. 1 plays out like a long lost masterpiece by a forgotten band when in fact it's a singles collection by a band without an album yet and that just adds to the excitement this record generates.

#Music
#BC

12th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Robert Pollard

Robert Pollard Is Off To Business

Guided By Voices Inc.

After the many, many, many quick-turnaround releases since the demise of GBV, it's often been Robert Pollard's lack of focus that has drawn critism. Albums seemingly get released when any 12 new songs are complete - and the results have been inconsistent to say the least.

With Robert Pollard Is Off To Business however, the charismatic front man's intention to knuckle down and produce a focused 'rock' record is clear from the start. Opener The Original Heart immediatly recalls the sound of 70's Peter Gabriel - a sound Pollard is a sure fan of, after GBV's rousing cover of Solsbury Hill on their Electrifying Conclusion tour. The classic rock continues straight into The Blondes and, while the song is far from being a carbon copy, it's the guitar intro from Led Zeppelin's Tangerine providing the unlikely reference point. While I would have never doubted Pollard as a Led Zeppelin fan (who isn't?) I could probably not have picked a band as seemingly far removed from Pollard's brand of low-fi bombastics.

Off To Business is definitely one of the most direct records amongst the Pollard cannon in quite some time and on the whole it's a rewarding listen. Multi-instrumentalist Todd Tobias provides the backing as usual - and while the intention is all good it can sound a little thin in places, almost as if a one-man-band is providing the sound, rather than a fully fleshed out band and lavish production. But seriously, what were you expecting?

Killer track No One But I is easily up there with GBV's best, with it's understated verses providing a calm before the ever ascending chorus. It's quickly followed by the equally engaging Weatherman and Skin Godess, and the condensed rock of To The Path!, which crams the contents of a Yes epic into a mere 3 minutes 25.

At 10 songs and 33 minutes it's over before it has begun and for once I'm left wanting more, not less. After amicably departing from Merge Records after a four year stint, this is the first (of presumably many) records to be released directly by Pollard, through his own label - Guided By Voices Inc. Hopefully it marks the start of a succesful new chapter.

#Music
#CSF

11th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Incredible Hulk

(dir. Louis Leterrier)

Hulk... smaaaash.... GOOOOOD!!! 

In this rebooted/reworked version of the jolly green giant, they've taken the lessons learned on the pretentious Ang Lee version and returned everything to its solid Marvel roots. No father issues, no over-worked Greek mythology references, and no Eric Bana. 

Instead, we get a solid blockbuster ride, that brings out the best thing about the 70s TV show: the Hulk is really Littlest Hobo. Maybe tomorrow he'll settle down; until tomorrow he'll just keep moving on.

The best thing about this version is that it skips right to the good bits: it assumes you know all about how scientist Bruce Banner exposed himself to Gamma rays and had his standard issue Marvel freak accident. So instead of playing that all out again over the first hour, it's zipped through in a montage at the start - a bit like those intro panels in comics - which is great. Just enough to remind casual viewers what's going on, and actually a much subtler way of getting the story going for anyone who didn't know.

Then, we're straight into Banner-on-the-run. He's working in a factory in South America, living in a favela in Rio where he's trying to find a cure with the help of a mysterious "Mr Blue" who he occasionally emails (yes, his log-on is the super-secret "Mr Green"). Once he's hunted down by the US military, lead by Tim Roth (who's pretty interested in the possibility of being that strong once the Hulk comes out to play), we're geared up for a big shantytown chase, that borrows a lot from the last Bourne movie.  

Ed Norton's great at bringing out the sadness of the Bruce Banner story - all that Gamma radiation is messing with his chance at a normal life with nice scientist Liv Tyler, and to make things worse, her dad William Hurt is the General who's hunting him down. That's one uncomfortable Christmas.

On the downside, the CGI battles are still pretty disappointing. There's probably no way round this now - especially when you see the Lou Ferrigno cameo and realise that he's not really that big - but still, it would be nice to watch one of these films and not feel like you were in the middle of a giant game every five minutes. That said, there are some artful shots where they hold back from showing you everything all the time, and the whole "uh-oh, my eyes are green again" moments are pretty entertaining.

As you may have seen from this spoilerish trailer, there's a Tony Stark cameo from Robert Downey Jr, setting up The Avengers team-up movie that's going to be on the cards once they've established Captain America (the first second world war Super-Soldier) and got Iron Man 2: Rust Never Sleeps  out of the way. This is really the start of the whole Marvel Universe on film, and given the way they're treating it so far, it looks like we're in for another few summers of fun.

p.s. there's a blink and you'll miss it cameo from Omar too, Wire fans…

#Film
#chimp71

10th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Melvins

Nude With Boots

Ipecac Recordings

This year sees the mighty Melvins celebrate 25 years together, basically a silver jubilee in a big smelly dress. There's an interesting "timeline of grunge" on Wikipedia's grunge music page which shows the births and deaths of the various bands associated with the sound of Seattle: it's underscored by one constant bar-line labelled The Melvins, the band formed by guitarist Buzz (King Buzzo) Osbourne back in 1983. They remain the unsung heroes of American rock, having been Kurt Cobain's favourite band, and spawning Mudhoney in the process. For 90% of their existence, King Buzzo's loyal partner has been drummer Dale Crover, and together with a Spinal Tap style succession of bass players they have ploughed a deep and individual furrow through the battlefields of heavy rock.

These days (the) Melvins operate as a four-piece, with the already established duo Big Business providing bass and a second drummer, and all four members providing vocals. Nude With Boots is the second album for this line-up and it evolves nicely from its predecessor (a) Senile Animal. The Kicking Machine starts things off with the twin drum kits pounding out a peg-legged funk peppered with extended guitar riffs and vocal harmonies. It's about as close to a Melvins manifesto as you could get - if this track grabs you then you're going to like the album. The songs are memorable, and the sense of a band working this out together is very strong. The influence of Big Business comes through a lot more, Jared Warren's vocals are a terrific counterpoint to Buzzo's grizzled growl and Coady Willis works instinctively with the veteran Crover.

Like most Melvins albums, there are parts that will grab your attention first (The Smiling Cobra, Suicide in Progress) and other parts that make more sense once you've heard them a few times. The last couple of tracks on the record tend towards the experimental noise-rock side of their sound, rather than ending with a knockout punch. More of a spiked punch. There are rumours that the band is planning to visit the UK later this year to celebrate their quarter century in a big way. Watch this space, and, buy this rekkid.

#Music
#HarrisPilton

9th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

My Morning Jacket

Evil Urges

Rough Trade

Following 2005's stellar album Z, My Morning Jacket continue to forge forward, cutting their own path through modern music. From the opening song, this is an unusual album that will not fail to surprise any existing fan. With Joe Chiccarelli at the controls, many of the band's trademark sounds have been left behind and many more contemporary influences have been brought in, signaling an attempt to widen the band's appeal with a more 'modern' sound. Although here 'modern' seems to mean the 70's and 80's - rather than 60's.

Opener Evil Urges expands on some of the disco sounds that started to appear on Z, but with Jim James reverb heavy sound on the back burner the song opts for an unrecognisable vocal style, perhaps best described as 'Bee-Gees'. Touch Me I'm Going To Scream seems to unsuccessfully re-work the melody from Z's far superiors It Beats 4U, but the most unusual is yet to come.

There was a never a more apt song title than Highly Suspicious, as while the paranoid tale of 'British Bobbies' pounding down the door attempts to deal with the modern Big Brother society it unintentionally reduces the listener to a baffled state - with the multi-tracked vocals of "Highly Suspicious!" hollering over the pounding funk beat. As a band, My Morning Jacket have often been compared to Neil Young - and it's a comparison that is still apt here, but unfortunately the album in question would be Neil Young's misfiiring electronic effort of the early 80's - Trans. Like that record, the attempt to connect with a 'modern' audience has produced a record more out of touch than ever before.

It's hard to tell the reasoning behind this move, as Z was an outstanding improvement on an already outstanding sound. It was a huge step forward and in many ways a departure from their previous records, but there was a solid core to it that maintained everything there was to like about the band. Perhaps that record was such a success that the band saw no restrictions on moving even further forwards with this release - or that they were held back with Z and it was a record that didn't pay off. Only time will tell.

It doesn't all miss the target of course and even title song Evil Urges has the makings of a great track, let down by the affected vocals. Once you're past the bewildering few openers things do settle down, with the more familiar sound of I'm Amazed, Thank You Too or Look At You, although admittedly some of these tracks would only rate as standard fare on an album like It Still Moves. The Librarian is a pleasant enough song, but the lyrics are so screamingly cringe-worthy ("Take off those glasses and let down your hair for me") that it's hard to see past them - to what presumeably isn't just about Jim James falling for the plain jane who showed him how to use the 'interweb', but is in fact advice to be 'happy with the inner you'. And not end up like Karen Carpenter. While the bands lyrics have never been deep or profound, there was always a sense of something beneath the surface and the emotional delivery of songs like The Bear or Gideon left the listener with plenty to think about.

Things do get back to the level you would expect from this band towards the end, with Remnants and the prog rock vibe of Touch Me I'm Going To Scream Part 2. Smokin From Shootin' is the album's one truly spectaucular track, but it's too little too late, leaving a spotty success rate that is hardly equal to the numerous highlights of previous albums. This unique band have taken their music in a new direction and while it is still certainly a unique sound I'm afraid to say that at the moment it's a direction I'm unlikley to follow them down. In many ways this is still a good record, with plenty to reccomend it over much of the junk that passes for music these days, but next to much of the band's other work it pales in comparison. Maybe I'm just not ready for it yet, and my kids are going to love it.... but 25 listens in it still isn't clicking and I can't help but feel disappointed.

#Music
#CSF

6th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Mudhoney

The Lucky Ones

Sup Pop

20 years after the release of their first record - Superfuzz Bigmuff - Mudhoney return with their eighth, but you’d have to listen very closely to find any obvious signs of maturing in that two decade period. Ditching the brass section flourishes of 2006’s Under A Billion Suns, the Lucky Ones is Mudhoney doing what Mudhoney do best – no-messing, fuzzed up punk, topped with the odd killer riff and Mark Arm’s sneeringly laid-back vocal.

Nice and compact at eleven songs averaging about 3 minutes each, it doesn’t hang about, sounding like it was recorded in about three and a half days…which incidentally, it was. The band hit the groove early on and ended up recording the record in record time. Which is great news for old fans, recently reminded of Mudhoney’s particular brand of wayward genius thanks to the re-release of Superfuzz Bigmuff. Opening track “I’m Now” may try and position the band: “The past makes no sense, The future looks tense. I’m Now!” but the energy, chaos and unmistakable sound that marked their 1990 debut, is all over “The Lucky Ones” (with slightly slicker production perhaps).

Whilst some may argue that this makes the album dated on release, others would say ‘Who gives a shit?’ leave the boundary breaking to the kids. Back in the day, Mudhoney somehow stumbled across new musical territory. It seemed like a lot of fun then – and it still does.

#Music
#chimpovich

5th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The War On Drugs

Wagonwheel Blues

Secretly Canadian

Let's get the negative stuff out of the way first as I have only one solitary gripe about 'Wagonwheel Blues' the debut album from Philadelphia's The War on Drugs. At 43 minutes I just wish that it was longer.

It is oft observed that movies released early in the season miss out on the accolades when it comes to the Academy Awards. 'And the Oscar goes to...' well usually the film most fresh in the memory of the Academy members. With this in mind I shall duly make a note in my diary for December 2008. It will read 'must remember to seriously consider 'Wagonwheel Blues' for my nomination for 'album of the year'. Perhaps I'm being somewhat premature and that in due course another release will yet supersede this – but it will have to be special because 'Wagonwheel Blues' is an absolute corker of an album.

Those things that look so perfect on paper do not always prove to be so in reality. The answer is not always equal to the sum of the parts. The trophy-less years of the Real Madrid 'Galacticos' era are testimony to the difficulty of creating the dream team. It is with wonder then that 'The War on Drugs' have managed to draw up a wish list of sounds which when thrown into the mixing desk cauldron have created the most magical potion. Instead of 'the eye of a newt and toe of a frog' the band have whisked in the following ingredients;

- The Tom Petty drawl
- Choppy Velvet Underground riffs and chiming John Squire licks
- Drums of a civil war army marching into battle
- The bar room good times of Bruce and his E street band
- A Dylanesque way of dressing mystical lyrics as simple nursery rhymes
- The determination of Smog hitting the ground running
- A meandering journey like Talking Heads' on a road to nowhere
- The fuzz of the Happy Mondays at their funky and dirtiest 'Wrote for Luck' best
- The moody but (peter) hooky bass lines of Joy Division.

The resulting 'Wagonwheel Blues' mixture sounds both exactly, and simultaneously absolutely nothing, like this list of luminaries. Where some bands ape and imitate their heroes (yes that's you Explorer's Club) The War on Drugs give a polite nod of acknowledgement and thanks for the directions proffered before independently setting out to explore a path entirely of their own choosing. As the band say they roll like 'a Wagonwheel with a monkey on your back' but then remind the listener that 'there is no need. There is no need for urgency'. This road is littered with escapades that exhilarate as they build but with a tantalising tease so that the final destination remains for ever just over the brow of the next hill.

In case I have been too subtle, and I didn't think I have, then I shall bang you over the head one last time. 'Wagonwheel Blues' is a great album and I encourage you to give 'The War on Drugs' a hearing.

#Music
#Muxloe

5th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Shearwater

Rook

Matador Records

2006's Palo Santo marked a bit of landmark for Shearwater with Jonathan Meiburg taking center stage as lead vocalist and the result was a much fuller sound that was way more ambitious than any of the bands previous work. The followup Rook has much work to do to keep up with its predecessor and despite a few bumps I'm pleased to report a worthy successor has taken up the crown.

The arresting cover image depicts a dark figure of a man with arms outstretched and cloaked head to foot in a swarm of rooks, His face is unrecognizable through the mass of feathered bodies and as you make your way down his solemn frame birds burst through his coat and emerge from pockets. He stands on a barren shoreline and the pallet for this scene is somber and dark with no hint of colour. While listening to the 10 tracks within, this image starts to take on new resonance and meaning. Rook is very much concerned with man's intersection with the natural world in all its facets from hunter to prey to the eventual extinction of species including mankind itself. Much of the record seems to come from a place so barren and wild that the very existence of human beings appears as nothing more than a haunting memory. Much like Palo Santo the music here can shift violently from a frail whisper to a calamitous boom and with Meiburg's unmistakable guidance Rook becomes a record of great visual power.

Though this record starts and finishes with two fine songs they don't seem like the right choices and had they been put in a different order Rook would work better as a complete concept. On The Death Of The Waters breathes life into the record with the faintest of breaths. Meiburg's vocals are as grey and as still as a winters day until the crashing waters change the scene in the form of a cacophonous orchestra. The violence of the two halves do seem to jar this early on in the record and it's not until the warmth of the opening guitar chords of the next track the we really start to settle in. Rooks is a glorious piece of work and one that we have come to expect from this band of late. With a steady drum pace and glistening musical rhythm section Meiburg's sweet tones drift gently throughout but show signs of teeth at just the right point. For me this feels like the album opener and it heads up a run of songs that form the spinal chord of this album and it's from these five songs that the structure and strength radiate.

Leviathan, Bound is a slow building song based around a gentle rhythm that ends in magnificent strings and ever increasing percussion subtleties while Home Life employs a similar structure originating from crackling drum taps and working towards an orchestral middle section that takes flight amid the soaring vocals of their captain. The music simmers like brooding weather patterns and changes direction with a glorious unpredictability, rising and falling, swirling and trickling.

Lost Boys struts proudly to a marching rhythm and triumphant horns tapering off slowly to the boiling might of Century Eyes. This is the first time the guitars have been given a proper run and they beat their fists with an energy of a force that has been kept under wraps for too long. Unfortunately the momentum that has been gathering ever since Rooks is somewhat dampened by some of the later tracks. I Was A Cloud seems to revisit this bands past at a time when the record was bravely conquering new territory and South Col's conceptual insistence might play to the theme of this album but slows things right down here.

Thankfully the shear scale of The Snow Leopard gathers these stragglers up in its all-encompassing arms and carries them away. It's often the case that a voice's true nature is found in its extremities and though Meiburg's vocal range is certainly extensive it is often held back like a force too powerful to unleash. Well there are fantastic glimpses of it here and it is only matched by the titanic mariachi horns that rise from the depths to accompany it. It's a colossal song and should really end the record. It feels like the band are giving it their all in a last chance show of power and the gentle melody of The Hunter's Star, achingly beautiful though it is, whispers in its wake like something of an after thought. It hurts to criticize as this song, had it appeared anywhere else in the record, would pierce you to the core with it's melancholy. But if song-order is the only thing that tries to drag this down then so be it, for at the beating heart of this album are some of the richest musical moments this band have created.

#Music
#BC

4th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

My Morning Jacket

It Still Moves / Acoustic Citsouca / Z / Okonokos

ATO records

Following their seperation from major label backer Sony BMG, Dave Matthews' ATO records have taken the opportunity to re-release their exisiting My Morning Jacket catalogue, which not entirely by coincidence ties-in with the release of the latest MMJ record Evil Urges, due next week.

It Still Moves - 2003 - 4 Stars
It Still Moves was considered the major label debut for the band after the success of The Tennesse Fire and At Dawn. As an album it's not particulalry cohesive, but it plays out nicely as a collection of great songs - and is a logical major label sequel to the home-grown efforts of the earlier records. The record provides little evolution from those records, but it magnificently showcases everything that there is to like about the band, from the opener Magheeta, through the rolling guitars of Golden or Just One Thing to the pounding rock of Steam Engine.

While many of its charming songs have since been overshadowed by the tightly honed follow up Z, It Still Moves provides for a great listen and is home to many of MMJ's staple live songs like Run Thru and Golden - plus the epic One Big Holiday, which is nothing short of spectacular.

Acoustic Citsuoca Live! At The Startime Pavilion - 2004 - 3.5 Stars
The band bridged the gap between major releases with this 5 track 'acoustic' EP, which is actually less live than it implies - as the "Startime Pavillion" show mentioned never actually occured. The EP was recorded over three nights in Austin, but none the less provides a magical document of the bands shows - particularly Jim James' solo acoustic shows. James' haunting voice dominates the release on highlights like Golden and Bermuda Highway, but the gem here has got to be the unbeatable version of The Bear, from album The Tennessee Fire. The song has a magnificent slow-building power at the best of times, but here it showcases James' vocal talents, unquestionable power and passion as a performer, building to a spine-tingling frenzied finale.

Z - 2005 - 5 Stars
Things stepped up a gear with Z, where the band moving away from the self-produced template of their previous efforts, handing over production duties to John Leckie (The Stone Roses, The Verve, Radiohead). It's a move that paid off hugely, with Leckie tightening the band's sound to the point of breaking. The sprawl of previous releases is trimmed to perfection, while every song is well-honed and muscular, with highlights ranging from the note perfecd electronics of It Beats 4U through the long rocker Lay Low to the powerful finale of Dondante. Eclipsing much of the bands previous work, this album moved them up to another level, bringing in new sounds and ideas while retaining all of their inherant qualities. Brilliant. Read our original revew here.

Okonokos - 2006 - 3 Stars
Following the release of Z, My Morning Jacket embarked on an epic tour, which did eventually land in London - but not before this two night residency at the legendary Fillmore in San Franciso. This live record documents the tour and was released with an accompanying DVD. While live albums can often be a little disappointing, this one rounds up everything that is good about the band and serves almost as a live greatest hits - covering 8 of the 10 songs from Z as well as numerous beefed-up renditions from their extensive back catlogue. Without seeing this unmissable live band in the flesh, this is about as close to the experience as you are going to get. Read our original revew here.

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3rd Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Fleet Foxes

Fleet Foxes

Bella Union / Sub Pop

Hailing from Seattle, 5 piece Fleet Foxes have been causing quite a stir locally and while Sub Pop have long been Seattle's finest they thankfully they stuck to their "only sign bands from Seattle" code to snap up this band - as let's face it, that's a code that has seen more than a few happy exceptions recently (The Shins, Postal Service, Oxford Collapse, Flight of the Conchords (!?)).

Using heavy precussion, multiple vocals and a giant dollop of campfire guitar acoustics, Fleet Foxes gently rustle up an epic granduer that you often won't see coming. Everybody's talking about the Crosby, Stills & Nash sound that the band have, but it's just as valid to compare them to contempories like My Morning Jacket and label-mates Band of Horses - as all rely heavily on a powerful voice to carry the dense, sophisticated music. While there's a definite nostalgia to Fleet Foxes, it never seems like pastiche or parody - just fun, passionate music, with a depth and quality way beyond the band's slender years.

Thankfully there's a healthy dose of Young in that Crosby, Stills and Nash sound and while the hymnal harmonies might be the obvious USP here it's the rockier numbers that have grabbed my attention. The sweeping guitars of Ragged Wood build in beautiful climbing chords, while the pounding drums and keyboard provide the backing for a grand narrative on Your Protector. Thanks to more examples on the Sun Giant EP (English House and Mykonos in particular) it seems clear that this is an element that has plenty of room for development within the band.

For a debut album this is a pretty stellar release and you can only hope that things are going to get even better from this band. Fantastic.

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2nd Jun 2008 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Bruce Springsteen

Emirates Stadium, London

May 30th, 2008

I've read a few reviews of the recent Springsteen shows including our very own CJ's glowing report last December and I don't really have much to add. I find no reason whatsoever for this show not to receive the same 5 star rating, as to criticize The Boss in any way for what he does on stage is gross ingratitude for the most giving and awe-inspiring performer in rock today. "So we're the first to play here huh?" asks the man as he surveys the impressive vista of The Emirates Stadium that spans out before his eyes, "well, we're gonna test its structure tonight." And that was no word of a lie as had the Gunners won anything this season their glorious stadium would not have seen adoration on such a scale as it did last night.

The set list, from what I can remember, wasn't a million miles from the O2 show, drawing at least 50% from albums of the last six years particularly the latest release Magic and The Rising but when the big tunes came they approached like giant waves and more than filled the stadium. The first of these waves came in the form of a much altered Atlantic City. Creeping in with quietly brooding subtlety this version showed the classic in all its bare bones and made every hair stand to attention.

Springsteen generously made countless jaunts into and around the face of the crowd shaking hands with as many people as was humanly possible with the composure of one greeting old friends. On several occasions, as if taken with the euphoria himself, he would fall to his knees with his back to the crowd and use their grabbing hands as a welcome support. During these crowd-outings, demanding to see the hundreds of request banners that the fans held aloft he would take his pick delivering them all to the drummers feet where from there his tremendous E Street accompaniment demonstrated their ability to turn on a dime and play whatever banner their Boss held up.

And play they did. The relentless display of energy and enthusiasm not to mention an inexhaustible back catalogue to choose from wipes every concert I've ever seen off my musical memory map. Before the crowd had time to show its gratitude and as his last note was still ringing out into the void in front of him, Bruce would race to the back of the stage to swap guitars and with a frantic "One, Two, Three, Four" the next card would be dealt. This went on in groups of about 4 or 5 songs for nearly 3 hours and this large-than-life front man showed no sign of tiring.

But the best was saved for last as an extended rendition of Badlands dovetailed unbelievably into back-to-back classics in the form of Thunder Road, Born To Run and Glory Days. It was like I was choosing the set list in my head and they were obeying me like some weird Jedi mind trick. There was many a mic-off with the impressive Miami Steve whose six-string prowess was also matched by his vocal abilities. Clarence Clemon's saxophone was tremendous and the whirling dervish antics of guitarist Nils Lofgren in the closing moments of Because The Night was something to behold. Ending with American Land from The Seeger Sessions the whole ensemble came to the front for a finale that threatened never to finish. It would be impossible for anyone with a heart still beating not to leave a Springsteen show physically exhausted but mentally buoyant from this unrivaled outpouring of energy, talent, passion and the long lost art of rock showmanship. There's no tricks, no gimmicks and no bullshit here - just a man playing like his life depended on it and judging by the smile that frequently adorned his face he's doing it as much for himself as he is for the thousands of outstretched arms before him.

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1st Jun 2008 - 9 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Silver Jews

ULU, London

May 29th, 2008

"I always thought London didn't give a fuck," claimed the stunned David Berman at ULU last night, as he stood aghast before the adoring crowd. He couldn't have been more mistaken. Although his most recent albums have seen accompanying tours Berman has a reputation of not playing by the rules when it comes to promotion - so when his band of Silver Jews roll into town you'd be a fool to miss them, as who knows when they'll return again. Always up for a challenge, Berman had a tough job in taking the stage after the support act Monotonix. Thrash metal from Tel Aviv is tricky at the best of times, but when the front man and drummer take their set-up marauding around the venue, barging into the crowd, topless and sweaty and screaming with vein busting ferocity, you've got to wonder how the Jews are going to follow this.

With glorious ease was the answer to that question as the first note rang out and the quietly confident Berman, dressed up to the nines, approached the mic. With the glamorous Cassie Berman at his right and twin guitars either side, the band lifted the roof from the start with old favorites Random Rules and Smith & Jones encouraging near euphoria from the fans. "I've got it all arranged," claimed Berman, "I'm gonna play an old one then a new one then an old one and so on," and with the exceptional musical accompaniment old and new melted into one sound. Silver Jews have always been a lyrics band with the actual music coming in second place in order of importance, but last night they morphed into such an impressive whole, raising the sound to a fuller and richer scale. On the lengthened musical end to Random Rules Berman walked around surveying each individual performance of his band like a school teacher. And things like this were another unexpected highlight. Having met Berman a few weeks ago I found him to be a warm and yet slightly reserved character who had only recently become acquainted with his fan base, but on stage he grows in confidence carrying himself like a Nashville Jarvis Cocker.

Although it was quite something to hear some of my favorite Silver Jews moments played out live, including some early gems like Trains Across The Sea, it was the new songs that really shone last night. Aloyisius, Bluegrass Drummer came storming out with a wonderfully brisk tempo and the playful San Francisco B.C. is obviously a band favorite being introduced by Berman "I hear you guys like your Fake Tales Of San Francisco over here, well we've got one of our own." Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea has many highlights, but Suffering Jukebox has to be one of the finest and it lived up to itself last night as did the fantastic Strange Victory, Strange Defeat. Both these songs benefit greatly from Cassie Berman's accompanying vocals and her presence on stage makes the whole show truly memorable. It's not often that you get a husband and wife partnership so lovingly and yet understatedly played out on stage and on the songs where Mr and Mrs Tennessee acknowledged each others presence, it was genuinely touching and really enhanced the songs and words being sung. "You're the only Tennessee," sang Berman adoringly to the woman at his side and the new album closer We Could Be Looking For The Same Thing took on new sweetness played out by this couple. "People don't write songs like that anymore," claimed Berman, damn right.

This show completes the trio of Silver Jews treats this week following the new record and the interview and hopefully clears up any misgivings Berman might have had concerning his bands place in London's heart. We give a shit DCB so don't be a stranger.

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30th May 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Mudhoney

Superfuzz-Bigmuff (Deluxe Edition)

Sub Pop

Despite being named after a couple of guitar effects pedals and featuring a song that confesses/proudly proclaims that "I've been drunk for 24 hours", it's difficult not to undersell the importance of Mudhoney's debut album Superfuzz Bigmuff and it's place in the timeline of, well, of popular music really. Such grand statements probably sit uneasily with the band themselves and most definately would have when these four long-haired outcasts from Seattle recorded it nearly 20 years ago. After all, they pretty much sound drunk all over it - a mood helped no end by the distorted sludge sound of the eponymous effects pedals. But this distortion, sludge, long hair and beer, laid out over punked-up three minute songs, combined to give the world 'Grunge' - the predominant alternative music scene of the early 90s.

A couple of years before Teen Spirit was a target in the bitter sights of fellow Seattlite Kurt Cobain, Superfuzz Bigmuff (along with its label Sub Pop, formed two years earlier) announced that something was most definitely happening in America's Pacific North West.

"We wanna be free, we wanna be free to do what we anna do. We wanna be free to ride...to ride our machines without being hassled from the man. And we wanna get loaded". Peter Fonda's plea in 'The Wild Angels', sampled as an intro to In 'N' Out Of Grace sums up far better than I ever could, where Mudhoney were coming from. There's no doubt this is an angry album, but whereas Cobain was to implode with that anger, Mudhoney had a sense of humour (and presumably a steady supply of ale) to balance it out and help carry them from the frustration of their surroundings.

Touch Me I'm Sick, which should always be the first name on the teamsheet for a "Grunge Album Select 11", sets the pace: "Well i've been bad. And I've been worse. And I'm a creep yeeeahhh. And I'm a jerk. Touch Me I'm Sick!". And the rest of the album plays out over this cynical, but above all beer-swilling fun, terrain. Extras on this version, re-issued to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of the lengendary Sub Pop, include singles, demos, and a couple of live recordings from 1988, which as the promotion blurb states "are all remastered, or in some cases, mastered for the very first time."!

Mark, Steve, Matt and Dan: the John, Paul, George and Ringo of my early adolesence, I salute you. Now let's get loaded.

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30th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

(dir. Steven Spielberg)

Paramount

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

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

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

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

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

Silver Jews

Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea

Drag City

It's been over two and a half years since David Berman last flung open the doors to his much coveted mental closet of worldly wisdom and on that occasion he left us with tales of "a place past the blues I never want to see again," and threatening to take "a hammer to it all." A rare tour accompanied the release of Tanglewood Numbers but then the doors were fastened shut once more and the world was lonely again. With these terminal words left ringing in our ears what were we to expect from the followup to Tanglewood's dark vista?

Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea sees a few returning members for a tried and tested Silver Jews line up in the form of Tony Crow, Brian Kotzur and the twin-ax attack of Peyton Pinkerton (Natural Bridge) and William Tyler (Bright Flight) who all join Berman and wife Cassie who, as usual, provides warmth and texture to much of the background space. In tone and content it's a fascinating addition to the puzzle that Berman has been relentlessly and stubbornly crafting since this band's conception in 1989. It stands alone from any other Jews album in terms of its relationship with the world and provides us with a valuable insight into this artist's shift in consciousness. And a shift is exactly what Lookout Mountain marks but, as might be expected with Berman, it's not the shift one would expect. Berman's opinions, beliefs, outlooks and observations remain firmly the same and provide the linking trail back to the other records, but it's Berman's viewpoint on these things that has changed. The world according to the Silver Jews has always been described through its minutiae, in all its tragic detail, but there is a sense of resolution in these songs that breathes new life into their whispering lungs. Instead of bitterness or anger there is a newfound tenderness for our culture but instead of emerging as celebration this tenderness brings with it feelings of pity. Berman's resolution acknowledges this pity and where his previous albums would leave it there, Lookout Mountain strives for a sense of warning. Where previous albums posed questions, this sixth addition provides the answers.

"What was not but could have been, was my obsession way back when./ Now I just remember this, what is not but could be if." And so this seismic shift is seen in full glory in the first verse of the opening song. The statement of lack remains in place but the gaze is turned forward to the future and a new feeling of hope is introduced. With the economic delivery of a Japanese Haiku poem, Berman relays his wisdom with mono-syllabic accuracy in this opener and with it a multi-faceted, new vernacular is born. But this look to the future is no unconditional march into greener pastures. Berman's new hope is full of lament for the past. The future as seen in Suffering Jukebox has no place for the past that Berman once belonged to. It tells of this sad machine in a "happy town, over in the corner breaking down." Could this machine be Berman himself, trying to impart a wisdom to a world that is happy enough without it? Or it could it be a comment on music's place in our society too preoccupied with the "cult of number one"? After-all, the jukebox, though neglected, is "all filled up with what other people need." Is this money or music itself?

This is echoed on Strange Victory, Strange Defeat when Berman talks of all the "handsome grandsons in these rock band magasines," and asks "what have they done with the fat ones, the bald and the goateed?" This song revisits a songwriting method that is well tested. Berman has a unique ability to describe man's follies by way of the absurd and often using animals, be it a "kitten from Great Britain" or as seen here, "Squirrels imported from Conneticut, just in time for fall." This song tells of a squirrel uprising against what Berman calls "a nightmare world of craven mediocrity." With wife, Cassie in assistance the squirrels call out "We're coming out of the black patch! / We're coming out of the pocket! / We're calling into question / such virtues gone to seed!" This is a reference to an Emerson quote in which he describes Fashion as a "Virtue gone to seed." So Berman is mounting an uprising against this new culture of seeming victories that ultimately end in "strange defeats." It's a culture that promises to be a lot more fun but as Berman asks, "how much fun is a lot more fun? / Not much fun at all."

Lookout Mountain also sees Berman assume a new style of writing in the form of a greater reliance on narrative. The first person shifts to the third with his observations being played out by a myriad of protagonists in far fetched and highly entertaining stories. This is seen most notable in the centerpiece of the record San Francisco B.C. It tells the story of a failed relationship that leads to all sorts of drama including Mafioso QVC operators, jewelry heists and murder mystery. It's one of the first time Berman's expert turn-of-phrase has been put to such a use and you hang on his every word for gems like "he came at me with some fist cuisine." It's the best brawl description since "a can of whoop-ass." With slightly less success and complete with seagull noises, Party Barge employs the same grasp of narrative and together they seem to allow Berman an added freedom that he had only ever enjoyed by putting animals in human situations. The characters are never that far removed from Berman himself and almost represent different facets of his complex character.

The record ends in a way no other has done before and in this ending the great Silver Jews shift is complete. We Could Be Looking For The Same Thing is a love song first of all, but a love song that only Berman could have written. In lines like "We could belong to each other / If you're not seeing anyone," we see Berman's ability to juxtapose the ultimate with the intimate, destiny with monotony. But it also sets up a love story from the point of view of two people at a later and more resourceful stage in their lives where they haven't so much downgraded their hope, but have become more realistic in their search for destiny. With this in mind, Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea is Berman accepting the faults of this existence but seeming more comfortable with their existence. In tone and content this record acts as a removal from the bad in society while still acknowledging that it exists for other people. It almost represents a truth that someone can emerge the other side and still be intact. In this respect it's a triumphant record but in a very realistic way. At just over half an hour it is more compact or concise. It comes from a less fragile place than his previous writings and displays this artist's unique and all too rare respect and appreciation for language. If society is indeed seen and experienced through the critical eyes of our artists then Berman is an essential addition.

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28th May 2008 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Wedding Present

El Rey

Vibrant

I'd written my review for this album long before I even heard it and thankfully I didn't have to go back and change much. Where 2005's Take Fountain had been destined to be a release from Cinerama, it was re-purposed at the last minute following a change in personnel and a darker turn in the songwriting. With The Wedding Present brand revived, El Rey has had an entire gestation period and with Steve Albini back in the mix you've got a potent cocktail - which fortunately does not fail to explode. With the advances in technology since the lo-fi early days of George Best or Bizarro, there's no need for a technical back-step and the production is loud, crisp and powerful.

Since the release of Take Fountain in 2005, David Gedge has taken Interstate 5 south and re-located from his post-Leeds home of Seattle down to sunny Los Angeles, although I'm not sure we can expect an Entourage cameo anytime soon. The setting might have moved to Hollywood (Winona Ryder and Spider-man get a namecheck), but the subjects stays the same: broken hearts, cheating, lust, regret. The usual.

Given the usually autobiographical nature of Gedge's songs it would seem that he still hasn't got over his last break up - or he's got another ex-girlfriend already. Either way, his loss is our gain and the serial dating of California has seemingly provided much inspiration. With some of the more Cinerama-esque songs of Take Fountain excised (Larry's, Don't Touch That Dial) and the less-than-sympathetic production from Albini added to the mix and what's left is a beefed up sound with guitar-heavy riffs that leave barely a weak track on the album.

It may be a more up-to-date version of The Wedding Present sound - what with the talk of text messages, on Don't Take Me Home, JPEGs on Intenet obsession tune Model, Actress, Whatever and even a mention of text messaging - but all the ingredients are here and there's even a return to the mosh-pit friendly style of Brassneck on Soup. Speaker stack facing guitar work-outs are also thankfully represented on The Thing I Like Best About Him Is His Girlfriend and Boo Boo amongst others. The dueling female vocals of bassist Terry De Castro may recall Cinerama here and there, but that'll be Cinerama at their best. There's no single track as epic as the sprawling Interstate 5 off Take Fountain, but this is a thoroughly consistent, effortlessly entertaining album. Have no doubt: this is pure, undiluted Wedding Present.

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

The Ting Tings

We Started Nothing

Columbia

This duo have really got me stumped. I would prefer not to review this record than make up my mind as to whether I hate it or not. One thing I do know is that lead single That's Not My Name is fucking awesome. I first heard of The Ting Tings on a Later...With Jools Holland show sometime last year. They played this lead single and at first every judgmental nerve in my body kicked into action and I was ready to make a cup of tea until the next proper band came on. But then something strange happened which has started this acute indecision. With Jules De Martino on drums and backing vocals and the ever energetic Katie White up front they seemed like a sugary White Stripes. After the initial tirade of random girls names all the music stopped and White proceeded to craft a live loop of her harmony vocals with various pedals. The drums then picked up once more building to higher and higher levels of noise while all the time White matched this buildup with frenzied shrieks into the microphone. This went on far longer than any pop song should and with this near punk change-up crashing over the live looped harmony the whole song was transformed into something amazing and truly mesmerizing.

Why can't I just leave it there?

Ok, some facts: Tipped in the top 3 of the BBC's Sound of 2008 poll The Ting Tings have actually been around for a while. They formed the band after being dropped from their original label and much of the music, especially That's Not My Name seems to be a valiant reaction to the constrains and turmoil they experienced the first time around. They hail from Salford and put out a few DIY releases last year including the frantic disco-pop number Fruit Machine before releasing album opener Great DJ in March this year.

I can't think of any more facts so I guess I'm going to have to give some sort of opinion. First of all, this really isn't aimed at me, I'm an old bastard who's loving the new Bonny 'Prince' Billy album. So with that said, I find the rest of this record instantly appealing with its unlimited supply of catchy hooks, upbeat rhythm and endlessly energetic vocals. It's realistic in that it isn't trying to be anything more than what it is, and that's 10 flawless pop songs that are meant to be danced to not pondered over. But on the flip side, good pop music often brings with it the 'Pringle' effect. Once you pop, you can't stop, meaning, this shit stays in your head for 'like' ever. In it's unfailing energy comes unfailing irritation, in it's unashamed pop blueprint comes shallow ditties that have instant appeal but zero lasting effect. That's Not My Name is by far the best song on the record but it too has been diluted from its original live incarnation down to an album friendly song that plays all too nicely with the other kids. I wasn't surprised to see Shut Up And Let Me Go - probably the most irritating song here - feature on the new iTunes advert, as We Started Nothing is a bulging Christmas hamper to lazy advertising executives worldwide. But good on them, I hope they make a pile of money out of those soulless rats and make some kids dance along the way.

Is that ok?

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26th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Jim James

St. James' Church, London

May 22nd, 2008

By performing under his innocuous stage name, these one-man shows by My Morning Jacket front man Jim James often go unnotticed in the listings, but as anyone who has attended one can testify - they are overlooked gems in the My Morning Jacket schedule.

On this occasion lead guitarist Carl Broemel was in tow to provide some back up and the venue was spectacular. Could there be any better setting for James angelic voice than a church? James himself seemed awstruck by the venue and often lost himself in the darkness of the room, with only some low-key lighting picking the stage out of the darkness. Opening with Tonight I Want To Celebrate With You, the venue perfectly projected the bands gentle sound and as the two of them worked through acoustic masterpieces like Golden, the duelling guitars filled the room.

It Beats 4 U got a low-key workout which highlighted the passionate lyrics, while newsongs like Sec Walkin' and Librarian were perfectly suited to the venue - sounding much more part of the catalogue here, out of the context of the eclectic new record. Thank You Too really soared, with great guitar work from James - who often over-shadowed his counterpart Carl Broemel, who's presence sometimes seemed distracting from the otherwise captivating focus of the show. Left truly solo for a spell in the middle of the set, songs like The Bear got a flawless presentation for the front man, as the gentle acostics built up before letting loose into a torrent of guitar usually reserved for a speaker facing three-man jam.

James and Broemel returned for an encore and after a hymnal intro from Sam Cooke's I Thank God, they took on an ambitious rendition of Touch Me I'm Going To Scream (Part 2). The haunting electronics of the Omnichord made for an experience far beyond your average acoustic show, with Broemel's soaring slide guitar this time perfectly complementing the electronic beats and vocals.

As the echoing beats faded away there was time for one more and the drums continued into a great rendition of Anytime, before the eccentric cape-clad front man left the stage again - hiding under his cloak like a victorian sideshow oddity. Outstanding.

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23rd May 2008 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Futureheads

This Is Not The World

Nul Records

After a change of label and new producer in the form of Killing Joke's Youth, Sunderland's angular favourites The Futureheads are back with a third record on their own Nul Records.

The problem with the immediate sound and energy that bands like The Futureheads and Maximo Park made thier name on, is that by it's very nature it just can't last. There comes a point where they need to move forward and the options available to them aren't that huge. While the Arctic Monkeys made the jump using clever lyrics, a wide musical style and their own original ideas, The Futureheads have gone the other route and tried to embellish their existing style, making it bigger and grander. It's a less than successful jump, as their music just isn't suited to the stadium rock of Coldplay or Muse. This Is Not The World has pretty much one style and once the minor 'intro' of The Beginning Of The Twist has passed it's all the same tempo, all fast-starters. With the exception of See What You Want (2mins 42) they even stick around the 3 and half minute mark. Hard To Bear is probably the only track to try and stray from the pattern, but apart from the temporary change in pace it offers little of note.

This template was so well laid our by the Jam that there's always been little room for improvement. The Futureheads got their breakthrough with their cover of Kate Bush's Hounds of Love and three albums in they still haven't come close to that songs originality.

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#CSF

22nd May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The National

A Skin, A Night / The Virginia EP

Beggars

A Skin, A Night - A Film By Vincent Moon

Personally I can take or leave films about bands and the trying times they experience while putting together a record, but Vincent Moon's portrayal of The National and the long and laborious creation of their biggest selling album Boxer is compelling viewing for the most part. It has the regular lingering shots of a troubled front man in the creative process while the rest of the band sit around in the recording studio waiting for his opinion but the stuff in between is beautiful. I have always seen The National's music as cinematic and Boxer solidified this with its darkly meandering melodies and cryptic verse, so for Moon to marry this up with long shots of a city asleep or lonely subway trains creeping through hauntingly desolate stations really brings to life the missing visual half to this bands music. Each shot is filtered through a heavy grainy film and is shrouded in stark contrasting black and white.

The dialogue is interesting as we discover this band's long recording history and the insecurities that come with it. 2005's Alligator was the first real break through for this band but it merely served to identify them with their fan base and it wasn't until last years stunning Boxer that things really started to change and they became aware of their growing presence in the music scene. The mood of the lighting is mirrored by much of the dialogue provided mainly by Berninger who comes across as the shy and introverted personality we see biting his fingernails on stage. He talks of his need to drink red wine before going on stage in order to shut out the fact that he's standing in front of a throbbing crowd. The success of Boxer doesn't seem to be making things any easier for this reserved leader. The demo versions of some of the songs are interesting especially when seen from the drummers point of view. Bryan Devendorf is one of the rising stars of Boxer as his rhythm dexterity provides much of the power and pace of the record.

The film as a whole doesn't provide us with much we didn't already imagine about The National but Moon's moody cinematic portrayal of the music is stunning and gives these songs the quiet weight they deserve.

3/5

The Virginia EP

Where the film may have lacked any new insights into The National's music, this 12 track EP makes up for it. It's basically a demo/live record which ordinarily wouldn't light me up as they tend to be lesser versions of your favorite tracks cynically pumped out to die-hard fans for a quick buck. But this EP is actually quite generous. Although some of the best tracks here were featured on the Extras tour EP the whole package serves as a worthy accompaniment to the Mothership of Boxer.

There aren't many bands these days that offer B-Sides worth bothering with but the first 3 songs here are equal to many of the lucky ones that made the Boxer final cut. All originating from Alligator's various releases, You've Done It Again Virginia is from Lit Up and Santa Clara and Blank Slate are both B-Sides to the Mistaken For Strangers single and it's Blank Slate that really shines. It's a reworking of an earlier B-Side Keep It Upstairs from the Abel single but this time it's been lifted out of it's original hollow surroundings and is given a glorious rock makeover and the result is one of the best National songs to date. Boxer has really elevated their sound with added strings and drumming of epic proportion so it's so special to hear some of these demo versions that show the band in their stripped down clarity. Forever After Days simply has Berninger's lonely vocals matched with a gentle guitar and lo-fi organ while Rest Of Years is a hollow slow burner that rises to a dirty finale of electric guitar and calamitous drums. But it's the Slow Show demo that gets the prize here as it did on the Extras EP. It's one of the finest songs on Boxer and here in it's bare bones it really shines. Berninger's vocals are mumbled to the point of near indecipherability and so are rendered down to just another instrument in this rich musical tapestry.

One of the best things about this EP is hearing a retrospective of this band's back catalogue all mixed up in various formats. This is seen most notably in how Slow Show is followed by the Daytrotter Session version of Lucky You, a gem off the 2003 album Sad Songs For Dirty Lovers. This is a heart wrenching, marvelously underplayed song that stands it's ground when put up against the latest work. This is then followed by a fantastic live rendition of Springsteen's Mansion On The Hill. The Boss' melancholic tone suits Berninger's style perfectly here and it's a triumph.

The album is brought to a close by two live versions of Fake Empire and About Today and unfortunately this is where the band slip up. These are two of the strongest songs on Boxer, but my criticism of their recorded versions still stands alongside the faults of their recent live show in London. With Berninger's delicate delivery and the ever richer musical waters he swims in The National's strength has alway seeped out of their restraint. On these recent live tracks the band take the songs off into all too grand territory with bloated guitar solo finale's that undermine the subtle depths previously plumbed and force the band into a genre they don't seem to belong in. It didn't work live and it doesn't work here. Still, it isn't enough to bring this generous EP down and it gives a glimpse of the talent that lies semi dormant in this group of musicians. Their albums are growing into something quite unique and their B-Sides show a cupboard full of unused masterpieces that few bands could afford to leave out.

4/5

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21st May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Black Mountain

Scala, London

May 18th, 2008

You're might be getting a bit bored of us raving about Black Mountain by now, but what can I say? With In The Future still holding it's current album of the year status for me, the band were back in the UK for the ATP festival and a European tour and I didn't want to miss them playing another smaller venue, before they certainly get bigger and bigger.

Playing a set consisting almost entirely of material from In The Future, you feel almost like you have flashed into the future yourself and are sitting at one of ATP's own Don't Look Back series - where bands perform their classic album in it's entirely. While it may have taken a couple of songs before the band really found their stride in terms of pace and power, it didn't take long and once they did they were firing on all cylinders. Never dropping a beat or letting the tension slip it's a remarkable show, best described as being run over by a freight train. In the best possible way. If you're not onboard by now, what are you waiting for?

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20th May 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Explorer's Club

Freedom Wind

Dead Oceans

If there is one thing I've learnt as a deck-hand on the good ship Chimpomatic it is not to jump to hasty conclusions. The case of the Explorers Club is a perfect illustration of this truism. On hearing the opening 'be my baby'-esque beats of 'Forever' my snap assessment was 'some-one should call Phil Spector and tell him that he's been robbed'. Which would have been rather premature. From that moment onwards it was clear that it had been wise to defer judgement. It transpired that if anyone needed to be informed that their genius had been pilfered then the only person who should be called is undoubtedly Brian Wilson. The Explorers Club main man Jason Brewer appears to be on a mission to write his version of the mythical 'lost' Beach Boys' album 'Smile' seemingly unaware that Wilson himself had already re-discovered and polished it down a few years back.

If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery then if Wilson ever hears 'Freedom Wind' he will be blushing a profuse scarlet colour. Explorer's Club are less influenced by the Beach Boys than their unofficial re-incarnation. Soaring harmonies. Tick. Orchestral arrangements. Check. Lyrics of love and innocence lost. Present and correct. It would be a wonder if Brewer didn't write his songs on a baby grand piano in a sand pit. The Explorers Club are the ultimate in tribute acts, albeit one that puts out records rather than reminiscing on a revival tours. All of which beggars the question 'what's the point?'. If you were too young to camp it up Frieda and Agnetta or sing back 'yeah yeah yeah' to John, Paul, George and Ringo then a night with Bjorn Again or the Bootleg Beatles serves a purpose. But what's the point of listening to Explorer's Club when the authentic original thing is just as easily brought or downloaded? Does anybody buy supermarket own brand cola when the 'real thing' is selling at the same price? Does the coolest kid at school ask his Mum to buy trainers with 4 stripes when the 'brand with 3 stripes' is on offer? No. And I would recommend that if you are not unfamiliar with this kind of surfing summer sound then check out Pet Sounds and Wild Honey before you even think about listening to Explorer's Club (and even then go check out the Byrds or the Mamas and Papas before you do).

Sadly the thought surfing through my mind when listening to Explorer's Club was of a sit-com I previously thought was rather forgettable. Remember when Nicholas Lyndhurst could walk back in time to the East-End during World War Two? He'd cheekily tickle the ivories of the pub Joanna with Beatles numbers passed off as his own. How we laughed as the regulars marvelled at his ear for a tune and the fresh nature of his music. It seems that Explorer's Club space-time portal has mistakenly jumped forward in time rather than turning back the clocks. Nevertheless they are still trying to palm of music from 1967 as if we'd never heard it before. Except that we have. Consequently in the 21st century these songs about 'going steady' now just sound contrived and slightly ridiculous.

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#Muxloe

20th May 2008 - 5 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Bonnie 'Prince' Billy

Lie Down In The Light

Domino

We may be heading for a recession but our usual touchstones of gloom and melancholy seem hellbent on taking us in the opposite direction. David Berman's Silver Jews are due to release an unusually positive new record and here Will Oldham follows up 2006's The Letting Go with an album bathed in weary resolution and renewed warmth. Both these artists have produced some of their finest work while struggling through their darkness and likewise both seem to project their new work from a well fought point of resolved insight. But the ultimate success of these two records come from a genuine wisdom that was born out of experience and a deep searching for a truth behind this human experience. They haven't just decided to make an 'upbeat record' but have allowed this new dawn in their understanding to shine on every word they utter and though these words will always be tinged with sadness they display an outlook glistening with light.

Oldham gently counts in the record with the retrospective Easy Does It. The whole feel of this album is encapsulated in this first song as it lovingly rakes over past beliefs and viewpoints to compare them to a newly acquired calmness and strength. "There are other ways, I used to think, to find my way around, the wood and the caves and the bad woman's ways that were always to be found." The whole song shimmers with this new "One Way" that Oldham refers to as he looks around him and sees the light shine off everyday wonders like the moon, friends and family and "good, earthly music singing into my head."

This album explores every range of Olham's vocals from the joyous country lilt of Easy Does It to the intimate whisperings of What's Missing Is. Musically it's just as rich from the clipped fiddle on Glory Goes to For Every Field There's A Mole's wonderful clarinet. Oldham's delicate guitar playing dances eagerly throughout the record but is also joined by colourful touches of lap steel. Dawn McCarthy's sweet harmonies shadowed Oldham's every word in The Letting Go and the duet role falls to Ashley Webber here with some beautiful results. You Want That Picture sees them assume the part of two accusing lovers while on Other's Gain they rise in harmony to majestic grandeur. The sense of loneliness is passing from every record Oldham makes, not only due to the company he keeps on the songs but in his words that fall so precisely from his mouth. On Other's Gain he tells of the importance to "Keep your loved ones near, and let them know just where you be," while Easy Does It describes "the wood and the smell and the word of farewell that I always had to sound."

This new embrace of the world and the people around him is at the very heart of this records warmth. Instead of the forked-tongue critic lurking in the judgmental shadow of the world Lie Down In The Light displays a new found knowledge of the artists place in this life and on songs like So Everyone he aims to declare it to all in earshot. But while this might be a celebration, Katrina And The Waves it most certainly is not. Lie Down In The Light might be the antithesis both in title and tone to one of Oldham's finest albums, 1999's I See A Darkness, but it's joyousness is delivered with patience and humility like one who has seen the light but is in no hurry to explore, opting rather, to dwell there knowingly in its warmth. Like Berman, Oldham's ability to describe joy as well as pain is giving new strength to his work and is transforming him into a more well rounded song writer and as this joy has come from pain its profundity is more striking and long lasting.

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19th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Sebadoh

Bubble and Scrape

Domino

A couple of year’s ago I wrote a review of Sebadoh’s Bubble and Scrape, for no other reason than I happened to listen to it for the first time in a while and wanted to give it some dues. Now, following on from other Sebadoh long-players The Freed Man and III, Bubble and Scrape is getting the re-release treatment, giving anyone who didn’t rush out and buy it after 2006’s gushing write-up another chance.

Eagle-eyed readers will note the addition of an extra star over there on the left, for which I make no apologies. I bloody love this album. Sebadoh were/are one of the most important groups in my music listening timeline - the fact that they set the bar way back in the early 90s and that bar still rarely gets challenged (even after a couple of unprecedented years of new music exposure courtesy of this site) is testament to their all-round indie rock greatness.

From album opener and possibly one of the finest songs about a relationship breaking down Soul and Fire (“Not there to soothe your soul, friend to tender friend, I think our love is coming to an end”), to the sheer abandon of closer Flood and it’s promise of a truly awesome and terrifying night: “Yeah. Alright. We’re gonna ride with the flood tonight!” It’s an album full of invention, balls, paranoia, intimacy and energy that flies around in all directions, barely held together by its basic home-recorded style production.

Previously, I name checked a few songs as album highs, how I missed Sacred Attention out of that list is inexcusable as to me it sounds like Sebadoh playing Fugazi – and if you know what I mean by that, then you know. If you don’t – then try and find out, it will be worth it. But to be honest, all the tracks stand-up – even ‘difficult’ tracks such as Elixir is Zog and No Way Out have a role to play, representing the stoned psychotic side of an album and group with several personalities.

As for additional material that comes with the re-release, it’s an assortment of odds, sods and demos including mashed-up versions of Sister, Happily Divided and Emma Get Wild that are even rawer than the originals and worth a listen. A nice, new, positive acoustic take on Soul and Fire (“There to soothe your soul, friend to tender friend, call me if you ever want to start again”.) and some obligatory sonic recording tomfoolery in the Freed Man vain. All in all 15 extra ‘tracks’ probably best categorised by the titles of two of them Visibly Wasted and Messing Around.

But it’s not really about the extras. It’s incredible to think that Bubble and Scrape was originally released 15 years ago. That it has aged so well, justifies its classic status. A lot of albums have come and gone in those years and yet it still punches its weight and holds a lofty position in my all time favourites. I look forward to the day where I can pass this to future generations and say ‘Listen. This is the music I loved as a young man’.

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#chimpovich

16th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

O Fracas

Fits & Starts

I Can Count Records

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

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

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

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15th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet