Chimpomatic

Adem

Takes

Domino

Adem Ilhan's 2004 debut Homesongs was a delight indeed, bristling with home-made charm and sparkling with all sorts of intimate delicacies. It was fragile and vulnerable but used enough touches of Fridge's, his former band's, eccentricities to separate it from all the other male singer-songwriters that were his contemporaries. By the time his followup, Love And Other Planets had emerged two years later the market was brimming over with such artists and for me Adem was lost in their cacophony of breathy chatter. So with this third album I was pleased to see a slightly different approach. That approach comes in the form of Takes, a collection of cover versions of songs released in the decade between 1991 - 2001, a period of great musical influence to Adem. So with this interesting slant on not only an Adem album but a covers album, coupled with the newly reformed Fridge I was expecting some sort of step away from the comfort zones this artists has resided in for too long.

Sadly I was disappointed once again. Takes starts off so well with a quietly dazzling version of Bedhead's 1992 single Bedside Table. Adem's voice is soft but confident with his hushed tones following gently alongside his delicate finger-picking and gently fuzzy backing-effects. It's one of the longer songs on the record and follows a repeated vocal pattern that takes its time to get the album started but serves as a strong introduction. PJ Harvey's Dry, from the same year, follows and keeps the standard and strength going. These versions are heavily stripped down to their bare bones but Adem retains their melody with a fuller production than his previous home recordings, playing every instrument himself.

Unfortunately Lisa Germano's Slide marks the start of the gradual slide back into Adem obscurity. Be it the choice of songs or their treatment here but throughout most of the latter part of this record Adem works as a musical Pol Pot by sweeping aside all the varied characteristics of these different songs and reducing them all to the Adem norm. For him to cover Aphex Twin seems like a task indeed but his treatment of To Cure A Weakling Child is a lesson in biting off more than you can chew. He sets himself this mammoth challenge then shys away from it by delivering yet another delicate folktronic ditty. To contrast this choice, his decision to take on Yo La Tengo's Tears Are In Your Eyes is a no brainer. A fragile song dripping in melancholy is a simple enough gig for Ilhan but I guess the real skill is how he manages to make it sound like his Aphex Twin song. That can't be easily done but he seems to pull it off time after time from here on in going through such varied source material as Smashing Pumpkins, Tortoise, The Breeders and ending with another no-brainer. Low's Laser Beam is a hollow masterpiece that simply doesn't suit this singer's voice. He screeches his way through it's empty corridors reducing it to just another slightly annoying Adem song. I applaud his choices here as they too are a collection of songs from a very informative time in my own life but his treatment and reluctance to stray from his usual blueprint level a creative decade out to simple mediocrity.

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#BC

14th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Ween

Shepherd's Bush Empire, London

May 8th, 2008

We have a lot to thank ATP for. Twice a year they ship over highly rated, under-appreciated (by us Brits at least) bands who could often not justify the air fare. Lucky for us, these bands often squeeze a few other dates in while they're in Europe - and fortunately Ween were no exception, making their first UK appearance since 2003. Billed as "An Evening with Ween", the band were scheduled to be on stage at 8pm - with no support, for a three hour set. As a longtime fan/part time believer in the cult of Ween, it was make or break time.

Shortly after 8, the lights dimmed and the crowd erupted. Shoeless and Geneless, Dean Ween took to the stage, before powering up the band with a beefed up version of Fiesta, from last year's La Cucaracha. Gene soon joined brother Dean on stage as they segued into Take Me Away - and the power and prescision of the band set things up for a night of fun, that was unfortunatley barely matched again.

Like a hilarious comedian who ruins his potentially flawless routine with constant fart jokes, the show pretty much played out like any Ween album - patchy as hell. Unfortunatley, a live show lacks the one essential item for making any Ween album bearable - the skip button. For every chunky verion of Bananas and Blow, I'll Be Your Johnny On The Spot or Voodoo Lady there was an over-extended labrious wander through many others from their vast catalogue. Sound problems didn't help, with Thin Lizzy-esque power anthem Gabrielle amongst many tracks drowned in the poor sound, which managed to muffle even the drums and treble.

Many of my own favourites were left out (where were Stay Forever, What Deaner Was Talkin' About, Did You See Me?, If You Could Save Yourself and It's Gonna Be A Long Night?), possibly because it turned out it wasn't such a long night after all - a mere two and a half hours - and if they'd cut out the brown noise that made up most of the show we could have been going home after around 45 minutes.

Criticisms aside, I certainly feel like I have the minority opinion here - with most of the packed out crowd having the time of their lives. Beer bust at the Empire! For me, the dream is over. At best they're like Zappa, at worst it's like watching a pub band rehearse their latest wacky Barbara Steisand cover - complete with National Anthem Guitar Solo. I have seen an alternate reality where Tenacious D are leading the world in musical experimenation and it scared me.

I feel like I've escaped from a cult and while I feel an occasional nostalgia for the fellow moonies I left behind, it sure feels good. For now.

Check out more photos over at our Flickr page.

Watch videos from the show at DrDamage73's YouTube page.

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#CSF

13th May 2008 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Roots

Rising Down

Def Jam

"Better dead bolt the door, it aint safe no more" raps Black Thought on this, the tenth LP from the Phily heavyweights, and he's clearly referring to the new world we now find our selves inhabiting but his words could easily be seen as a warning cry to all other crews because Rising Down will demolish the competition. It's a foreboding record that tells of a growing unrest in America but does it with intelligent vision that, instead of sounding preaching, gathers us all behind it and commences its march on the system. The Roots have tirelessly crafted intelligent hip hop but this record manages to steer clear of the overly serious work that crops up in this genre. Rising Down is serious as fuck but it seems necessary, sincere and dangerously capable of making a difference. In mainstream hip hop there seems to be a limited number of routes out of the mothership. There's the dick-swinging/thugged out route favored by the likes of Fiddy, the "I shop so much I can speak Italian" bling rhymes of Kanye or the well trodden and yet important route of the political, championed by Chuck and the boys. The Roots have never really made their choice, choosing to keep their options open, so Rising Down sees them take a step nearer their choice. With some expertly employed guest vocals from the likes of Mos Def, P.O.R.N., Talib Kweli and Common each song plays out like a cross section of deep civil unrest. But aside from the guests this and every Roots album is about Black Thought. His relentless delivery adds the weight to this sound and as he flows over ?uestlove's flawless percussion you really want to listen.

Mos Def is given the mighty honor to open this record and he does so with style over a deep drum beat that simmers to a guitar sample that Shadow just wishes he made. Black Thought backs him up with his signature intensity "Everything's for sale, even souls, someone get God on the phone," sounds the chorus before Styles P flows off the back of Black Thoughts vocals perfectly. As an opener this song establishes the tone quickly. The guest vocals provide a varied platform for its darkly twilight drizzle and it has to be a strong contender for the best song this group has made. Get Busy storms in with raw drum beats and Black Thought's angry growls stabbing from the depths while 75 Bars (Black's Reconstruction) sees his lightning tongue rattle off lyrics like a gatling gun. Besides the intro these first three full songs come as a set and lead you deep into the heart of the record before you have time to worry if it's any good or not. They're the united front and they're impenetrably solid.

The two elements that make this record shine is its use of guest rappers and The Roots penchant for live instrumentation. Hip hop's been around for a while and you'd think by now that any keen follower would have heard his fair share of dope beats but with every release - and particularly this one - The Roots manage to craft such well rounded head-nodding perfection. I Will Not Apologize unites both these strengths and sees P.O.R.N. and Dice Raw rhyme over the sickest, most sleezy beat that bumps lightly around their perfectly crafted flows. It's like a mission statement read out on a relentless protest march with the guest's awkward style of flow complementing brilliantly that of Black Thought's. Criminal and Singing Man take a smoother approach but the effect is the same, accompanied by a more melodic structure they turn down the heat but continue to pile on layer after layer of simmering anger most frighteningly seen on Singing Man where Truck North assumes the role of a suicide bomber.

With the help of Wale and Chrisette Michele the penultimate track Rising Up seems to be the after party for those who stayed behind after the protest. It's a clever antidote to opener Rising Down and features such rhyme nuggets as Wale's "good rappers aint eatin', they Olsen twinnin'." Had it finished the album Rising Up would leave the listener with a profound sense of optimism for the future and the possibility of change. As it happens the upbeat Birthday Girl closes things and serves as the only misplaced step on this otherwise flawless record. The political route has often been on their map but The Roots have never strived to be Public Enemy often leaning heavily on a more soul-infused sound that provides their records with a rich variety of intensity and light relief. Rising Down opts for this variety a lot less than its predecessors and so the inclusion of the jaunty sing-along closer really dilutes their message here, thinning out the album. But like a fine wine this album, though tapering out at the edges, provides serious body throughout.

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#HHG

12th May 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Cans Festival

Leake Street, London

This cleverly named exhibition shows how far street art has come in the last ten years. Anyone who's lived in or around London for any length of time will be so used to seeing Banksy's creations come and go around town and with the exhibitions in America making front page headlines and his work being sold to countless celebrities, so it was no surprise that when I turned up to this Bank Holiday festival of stencil art curated by and including the 'man' himself the queue was round the block.

In case you don't know, this all takes place on Leake street, a tunnel under the old Eurostar at Waterloo station and it contains stencil paintings and sculptures by various street artists including Banksy. Anyone can contribute to this show throughout the weekend but it is strictly limited to stencil art only. There's a reception made out of an old caravan that artists have to register at where they will then be guided to the remaining free space on which to leave their mark. The result is a visual feast and a fantastically concentrated platform for this art. It seemed strange to be queuing for a highly organised exhibition of anarchic art, especially under a towering billboard that reads 'Gentrify This' but once you've made it through you'll find it was worth the wait.

You're not allowed to paint over anyone else's work so everything is tastefully placed but the quality is impressive. Dotted around burnt out cars, painted sofas and ice cream vans are thousands of images that all seem to behave perfectly with each other. The whole tunnel is totally covered with work and doused in dripping paint and if you can get a glimpse through the wall of flashing cameras you'll be glad you came. Every manner of culture has been thoroughly trashed from Michaelangelo's David, The Queen, Andy Warhol, our beloved hoodies and our (apparently) equally beloved Boris.

It's all very exciting and very hard to find a bad word to say about such an event being staged for free at a location as tourist-friendly as this. Banksy never seems to run out of good ideas these days and even though it's way more interesting to come across one of his visual one-liners on some dingy back ally in Hackney, to see some of these works on the scale that they are shown here is great. To be honest, I'm a bit bored of this stuff. It's so commonplace now and never seems to rise above its obvious, anti-establisment message but as an event in the capital I take my hood off to them. If this was Ken's swan song then thanks for the memories dude.

#HHG

9th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Last Shadow Puppets

The Age of the Understatement

Domino

Recalling the likes of Scott Walker and Phil Spector, The Last Shadow Puppets are a side project from chief Arctic Monkey Alex Turner and Miles Kane of lesser-known Wirral locals The Rascals. Simian Mobile Disco's James Ford plays drums as well as reprising the production role he took on last year's Favourite Worst Nightmare.

Inspired by that late 50's / early 60's sound, the band employ lavish strings, rich melodies and a sweeping grandeur that places them well away from the Arctic Monkeys' spikey, contemporary sound. Off to a flying start, the title track sets up the scenario - with Turner and Kane's harmonious vocals galloping along to the accompanyment of furious strings. Lyrically less of a first-person affair than the Monkeys, steering away from the minutiae of teenage life in Sheffield for a more subtle style of big screen story-telling. There's still room for Rock amongst all this orchestration however and many songs recall the early electric era of 7" singles - barely topping 3 minutes on most tracks. Highlights like Standing Next To Me and Only The Truth sum the approach up perfectly, doing away with long intros and getting straight to the full-blown matter at hand.

It's a fun listen, but at the end of the day it's a concept stretched a little too far. The similarity between Turner and Kane's voices does little to add much distinction between tracks and while it's by no means an offensive listen I just find my attention drifting towards the end. Finale The Time Has Come Again brings things back into focus however, with a suitably sweeping climax as the soft acoustic intro is embellished by the twin vocals and a rising orchestral arrangement.

In an age of mega marketing and struggling record sales, Turner has maintained steadfast integrity, shirking the expected mainstream and sticking to his guns. This is an unusual release, but one that is strong, original and superbly produced. A far cry from the Hoxton infested lo-fi 80s revivalist output that a lot of hyped bands seem to be trying for these days.

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8th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Tapes 'n' Tapes

Walk It Off

XL Recordings

Like Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, the success story of Tapes 'N Tapes was born amidst the constant hum of the blogosphere. Their 2006 debut The Loon came out to rapturous praise with its infectious pop hooks and set up quite some expectation for their next move. CYHSY's answer to this expectation was with two fingers as they delivered Some Loud Thunder, a difficult and curious followup that stubbornly refused to accommodate the strengths that may have arisen from their debut. By hiring the producer of Some Loud Thunder, Dave Fridmann, TnT seem to be only too aware of these comparisons and though the result is not the same they too have delivered a curious sophomore effort.

From the outset it's clear this Minneapolis 4 piece intend to raise the stakes as Le Ruse screeches in to view and Josh Grier's vocals ride a wave of crashing cymbals and calamitous riffs. The increased might in the music and venom in the vocal delivery is an instant plus point but all this is shrouded in a curious muffled production that you instantly start to doubt your equipment. The opening track on Some Loud Thunder had me perplexed in the same way to the point where I now find it unlistenable. Headshock shows the same underproduction with the bass line that thunders at the chorus threatening to obliterate any recognition that might have come with the melody. Blunt does the same thing as it builds to a deafening concoction of drums and driving guitars and as you strain to hear the rumbling bass line your patience starts to fray.

Though this lo-fi quality lurks in pretty much every corner of this record the more melodic numbers manage to escape its blight. The slow-to-build Time Of Songs chimes with a wonderful clarity with Grier's melancholic mumble "I'll pull you from the bottom and i'll leave you on the floor." Say Back Something is a welcome break with it's down-tempo strums while Lines shuffles along at an uncharacteristically lazy pace until the military rhythm and taught guitars start to build to Grier's repeated vocal, "Over lines." This song sees an intelligent structure that is sometimes lacking in other songs like the slightly limp wristed Anvil.

But pretentious production aside, two of the strongest tracks on the record come in the form of Hang Then All and the album closer The Dirty Dirty. Hang Them All shows this bands ability to deliver a hook. It's a tense whirlwind of a song full of swirling organ and clipped, punchy guitars. As is often the case in this record Grier's tight lipped vocals build things to a head with the rousing, repeated chorus bringing the song to a rapturous close. Walk It Off is an exciting run and no matter how trying the going is you'll be glad you stuck it out when you get to The Dirty Dirty. It's the longest song on the album and it takes this band into new territory. Rumbling guitars and relentless drums give it a steady, driving pace which never lets up. Grier's vocals are deadpan and refuse to rise above the tone set by the rhythm. The song actually goes nowhere and continues at this formation until eventually fading out making it a questionable choice for the final track, but as questions were heavily on the agenda from the start here it seems a fitting way to finish.

The introduction of pillar after pillar of load-bearing riffs makes this follow-up a brave step forward. It's not breaking down any new musical frontiers but expands on the strengths of their debut nicely ...but just as I start to get excited about it the question of production undoes it's trousers and urinates on my fire. Bands like The Wedding Present recorded some of their best works with obvious production deficiencies but now that technology has improved their sound has benefitted enormously. As with CYHSY, this band have everything at their fingertips and with such credits as Mogwai and Mercury Rev to his name, Dave Fridmann is a master of his craft - so the insistence on this lo-fi style smacks of pretension and ultimately drags this otherwise promising and gutsy record down.

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7th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Times New Viking

Rip It Off

Matador Records

There's lo-fi, and then there's TNV. I can't see the point, really. There might be some good tunes buried in this collection somewhere, but who's to say? I simply can't get past the TRULY APPALLING sound. The way I understand it, lo-fi is more of a musical ethic rather than a description of sonic qualities, but in the case of TNV it's taken much more as a literal way of life.

It's like being played a demo recorded on a cassette tape by someone who didn't know how to set the input levels. The entire signal is broken up and overloaded across the whole mix, thereby reducing the definition of any single instrument - you can't hear any bass frequencies for example. It's like being shouted at for half an hour, or played a sex pistols bootleg down a bad phone line. So much so, in fact, that it's just too wearing to pay close attention to. I don't want to have to wade through a river or crackle to reach the music, after all, it's supposed to be about the songs isn't it?

Perhaps TNV would be pleased to hear me say all this - yeah! Punk Rock! You know, if this stupid reviewer can't be bothered to extract the tunes, then he's missing the point and we don't want him as a fan. Well, if that's the case then fair enough. But folks, since someone's gone to all the trouble of releasing this record it might have been better to put something out that people might want to listen to more than once. Any chance of remixing it a bit cleaner...?

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#HarrisPilton

6th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Iron Man

(Dir Jon Favreau, 2008)

Very fun blockbuster antics, that matches cool tech FX w Robert Downey Jr's patented smartass delivery. Without either them working it would be a pretty generic exercise in the routine "superhero powers up; finds baddy; has a big fight" plot. It never quite hits those "America! Fuck Yeah!" moments you want from a film like this, but it comes pretty close, and the RDJ charm is in full effect throughout.

The various Iron Man prototypes are all accompanied with some highly satisfying sound effects as boozy billionaire genius playboy Tony Stark works his way up from the 1.0 version of the suit he builds to escape from some al-Qaida style bad dudes who kidnap him in the desert somewhere.

The supporting cast isn't bad either: chimp hero Jeff Bridges rocks a mean bald/beard combo and does a good growl throughout. Gwyneth Paltrow is a bit blank, and keeps changing her hairstyle a lot, but isn't too bad as Stark's long-suffering PA Pepper Pots (howcome all superheroes get potential girlfriends with alliterative names?). If you're a Marvel fan, you'll enjoy the "next time" nod from Terence Howard's military man when he gets to check out the suits.

On the down side, there are some awful product placement moments from various cars and burger chains who've forked over big $$$ to get in there - hasn't anyone in Hollywood seen Austin Powers?!

Not sure the politics are really that thought through either: he's an arms manufacturer who gets upset when he sees his weapons blowing things up for the wrong people, so he decides to blow them up, but still let his company sell weapons to the good guys (America)? eh? Er, here the RDJ charm offensive comes into full swing: never mind that, here's another smart line from Downey...

Bound to be a franchise. Could have done with the full Black Sabbath tune somewhere in there too. Just about fun enough.

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#chimp71

1st May 2008 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Flight Of The Conchords

Flight Of The Conchords

Sub Pop

The novelty comedy record is a tricky path to tread. It's fun on your initial saunter, then maybe again with a friend it might still hold some of the same appeal, but soon after these initial promenades, this little path will rarely be trodden again. This can't, however, be said for Sub Pop's most genius release to date. The HBO series Flight Of The Conchords told the story of 2 musicians from New Zealand, Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement who, with the (mis)guidance of their agent Murray, go to New York to try and make it big. In the all too short half hour episodes they usually treated us to a couple of songs that really had little to do with the plot but were a sheer joy to behold. Dealing with such complex themes as ATM charges, racist fruit sellers or supernatural visits from bygone era David Bowie, the songs took on a myriad of musical genres and were never short of hilarious. Knowing that the songs came first and HBO built the series around their narrative makes this album even more valid and having just completed my 27th listen it's still as sharp as ever.

Not only is the comedy album a tough gig, but to take these songs out of the context in which they were originally experienced (i.e. the elaborate fantasy settings Bret and Jermain found themselves in in their made-up rock n roll success story), really puts their audio comedy to the test. The result is a deeper appreciation of their writing. Each song is so loaded with gags that in this format one is able to marvel at nugget after nugget of well crafted comedy. Hiphoppopotamus Vs. Rhymenoceros was an early favorite on the show and it retains its title here. With lines like Jemaine's "Yeah sometimes my lyrics are sexist but you lovely bitches and hoes should know I'm trying to correct this." and when, after Bret's statement, "other rappers diss me, saying my rhymes are sissy, why? Why? " Jemaine interjects, " be more constructive with your feedback," you start to marvel at how these two white Kiwis manage to totally ridicule a whole hip hop genre so charmingly. Other highlights include Jemaine, on Think About It, pondering the state of the world where slave kids are forced to make sneakers but the sneakers don't seem to get any cheaper, exclaiming at the top of his voice: "What are your overheads?" or the binary solo on the fabulous Robots. It's hard to pick a favorite but Business Time hits the spot every time. The phrase for letting your lover know when it's time to make "sweet weekly love" must soon find its way into the dictionary, and after making enough love for two... minutes what better way to end it than to tell your partner "business hours are over baby." 

The problem I've found with this isn't its lack of repeated listen appeal but its potential to ruin just about every genre of music there is. Its spot-on parodies and razor-sharp observations will serve as a kiss of death to the afore mentioned hip-hop genre, Serge Gainsbourg, Dance Hall Ragga, Kraftwerk, The Pet Shop Boys and most certainly David Bowie. Since the TV show I've found it hard to listen to the final minute of Radiohead's Down Is The New Up, due to its striking similarities to these guys. But the destruction and ridicule of pop history is a small price to pay, so I urge you all to succumb to Bret and Jemaine's "groovitational pull" and check this out.

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#BC

1st May 2008 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Dead Child

Attack

Touch & Go

Dead Child is a side-project for renowned post-rock guitarist Dave Pajo - formerly of Slint and occasional member of Tortoise. I've always rated Pajo ; I think his playing puts him in the league of great American left-field guitarists such as Marc Ribot or Bill Frisell, and so I was intrigued to hear this record since it's being touted as Pajo's hommage to the music of his youth - Heavy Metal. Now, I like chunky rock. I'm a sucker for an overdriven guitar playing choppy riffs and squalling lead breaks, and that's a pretty good prospect in the hands of someone like Pajo, and on this front the record really delivers. Great tight production, with drums bass and guitar providing a high-energy modern sound and riffs as tight as Fu Manchu. However...

In paying hommage to Metal, the band has chosen to utilise the vocal skills of Dahm (Phantom Family Halo) and this is where things take a turn for the worse. The problem is that Dahm's vocal style and comic-book lyrics are just plain corny. The words are a collection of schoolboy metal cliches presented in stock rhyming-couplet pairs, and his vocal delivery sounds like it's all a big joke - I'm reminded of Electric Six . This works against the strong backing tracks; it's a gourmet meal smothered in ketchup, an Aston Martin with fluffy dice. The overall effect is that the music and the vocals are almost at odds with each other. Perhaps that was deliberate, but it's as if Dead Child can't decide whether they are serious or not. Sadly, "not" wins.

In fact, so horrible are the vocals that it puts me off listening to what could have been a great record. I appreciate the fact that it's hard to be original in the world of metal vocals, but even the throat-rasping cookie-monster stylings of grindcore would be preferable to this. A great set of tunes reduced to dismissable nonsense.

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#HarrisPilton

30th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Tindersticks

The Hungry Saw

Beggars

With no sign of a new album in several years, Tindersticks' one-off show at the Barbican in 2006 seemed likely to be their last outing together, serving as an acknowledgement that they were over. Perhaps Stuart A. Staples underwhelming solo releases have changed their minds, but from out of the blue a new album has arrived, featuring a stripped down line up but all the hallmarks of the old band.

It seems like longer than four years since they most recently hit the highs of Whiskey & Water, A Night In, or Travelling Light - and I'm happy to admit that I was not holding out much hope for this one. While they may have done nothing wrong, I grew tired of the Tindersticks - perhaps overloading on their various non-album releases, such as their mostly instrumental soundtracks and sprawling re-releases. On the first listen some of The Hungry Saw may seem pretty average, lacking much of the bombastic flourishes that elevate their best work, but after a little wearing-in, this album really starts to flourish - revealing many of the band signature flourishes.

Like a slumbering giant, gently waking from a cider soaked evening, Intro plays out like the soundtrack to some expressive dance, as one by one the instruments awake and the Tindertsicks welcome us back into their open arms. With the giant awakened, the band fire up the old charm and we're instantly back at their best with Yesterday Tomorrows. There's a soundtrack vibe to many songs on this very visual album - with extended passages of music often leading into, or in some case replacing the lyrics. Having a full band behind him seems to have filled in the gaps that peppered Staples' solo albums.

Single The Flicker Of A Little Girl, is illustrative of the album, but it's deceptivly upbeat - and it's the more epic songs like The Other Side Of The World and the oustanding Boobar that stand this record up with the bands best work. Melancholic. Uplifting. Soulful. Nostalgic. Over-the-top. Understated. All the best ingredients for classic Tindersticks. The only thing missing could be a Whiskey chaser to wash it all down.

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28th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Oxford Collapse

The Windmill, Brixton, London

Looking around the empty pub it seemed unlikely that Brooklyn rockers Oxford Collapse would be the skinny-jeaned, curly haired chap, or that head-banded trendy in the corner. Of course not. These guys had graduated from the US school of indie rock and had the tattoos and beards to prove it.

The half-empty venue did nothing to dissuade the band from kicking out 'all the hits,' as smart mouthed, charismatic front man Michael Pace led them through the best of last years Remember The Night Parties - with Lady Lawyers, In Your Volcano and Kenny Can't Afford It amongst the songs getting enthusiastic renditions, complete with guitar heroism from Pace and bassist Adam Rizer.

The Boys Go Home from A Good Ground was also dusted off, as well as previews of several tracks from forthcoming album Bits. The sound might have sucked, and the under-informed crowds of London may have missed out, but the band have certainly nabbed themselves a spot in my list of most anticipated releases for 2008.

"This is a blues riff in B, watch me for the changes and try and keep up." Once that cymbal is fixed of course.

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#CSF

26th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Animal Collective

Water Curses

Domino

Having anticipated and enjoyed every new release from Sung Tongs onwards, I was surprised to find myself a little less than enthusiastic at a brand new EP from the Animal Collective. The possible reason for my slight reservation towards new material from what I deem to be currently one of the most interesting and baffling bands is too much too soon.

Water Curses consists of four songs, three of which are the remains from the Strawberry Jam sessions and one new track. Not sure which is which but they do vary in tone and texture as is often the case but what struck me is how consistently enjoyable these songs are. Nothing here is a great departure from their recent back catalogue, but no matter how highly I rate Animal Collective it is often a laborious process to get from the start of an album to the finish. Regardless of the need for patience I always feel rewarded for the effort. It certainly took a lot less time to appreciate the four tracks here and they even had me humming one of the many melodies that swirl in out from the first listen.

The title track Water Curses is the first and most accessible track, it is a short and sweet song gently sang with no vocal extremities to deter the casual listener. The customary noises are there but restrained by the strong melody, it is only the high pitched mock organ that adds the expected twist. The following songs do demand more attention but benefit from a contrasting tone, as they fleet and float in their awkward structures.

Given it is an EP, which I often associate as filler between more significant releases, this does stand head and shoulders as the best form of introduction to this eclectic band. This is partly down to having only four tracks, which is just enough not be annoyed by their originality but to appreciate it.

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#R.Hammerstein

25th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Birds of Avalon

Bazaar Bazaar

Volcom

There's a lot of unapologetic music being made recently and the debut album from Birds Of Avalon has to top the lot. It would be a fun experiment to wire a music reviewer up to some high voltage and tell him to describe Bazaar Bazaar to someone who hasn't heard it - the catch being that if he mentions any other rock band in his description he gets zapped. It would be a pretty tough gig as this band reference just about every 1970's rock heavy-weight that's ever picked up a plectrum and that's just in the first song.

But that's not to say this isn't a good listen. Their lack of apology doesn't come across as tongue-in-cheek like The Darkness and their grasp of the genre may be obvious but it's a firm one and is delivered with all the might and sincerity of their mentors. They demand an open mind from their listeners by their title alone. Birds Of Avalon conjure up disastrous Spinal Tap visions, some very small Stone Henges and the sickly smell of patchouli oil - so from the opening chords of the equally questionable titled Bicentennial Baby you are pleasantly surprised. Craig Tilly's vocals instantly recall Black Sabbath or early Cheap Trick and as that recollection never leaves your side the album powers on through the Pink Floyd keyboards of Instant Coma, the Led Zeppelin psychedelia of Wanderlust and the shamelessly Steely Dan intro of Superpower. Chuck in two scoops of Hawkwind, a soupcon of Peter Frampton, eight heaped table spoons of Thin Lizzy and you've got yourself a tasty little rock cake.

When forming an opinion about Bazaar Bazaar one is presented with a quandary indeed. This is a very enjoyable listen. The riffs are tough, the drums are as furious as you'd want them to be and Tilly's vocals are as soaring, pretentious and vague as you would expect, BUT, the fact that it's all so regressive casts a major shadow over the whole thing. I don't need every album I listen to to reinvent the wheel but this is taking it a bit far. It's obviously aimed at fans of this genre and yet it's references will be sniffed out in an instant and like a bleeding limb in a shark pool will attract criticism from far and wide. But then again, maybe I'm giving this way too much thought. Though this is pretty much the sum of it's references it still rocks in all the right places when turned up to eleven.

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24th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Atlas Sound

Let The Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel

4AD

"The dream of one summer, this last summer I had. It's almost as if I had one continuous dream and the product of achieving it is the album you have here." And so writes Bradford Cox, the creator behind Deerhunter and this, his earliest incarnation and solo pursuit, Atlas Sound. Let The Blind... is the debut album under this name and "one continuous dream" would be an accurate way to describe it. With themes of nostalgia and childhood infiltrating every pore of this sound much of its conception can be attributed to one whole summer where, as a 16 year old, Cox lay immobilized in a children's hospital undergoing surgery on his back and chest. This lost summer, spent bedridden and gazing longingly at the world, echoes the bleached out warmth of this sound and the endless dream-like imagery that loom in and out of focus throughout the record.

Let The Blind... is the vehicle by which Cox can express the ideas he feels unable to in Deerhunter. It's a one man bedroom recording of great depth and beauty that spends much of its time swimming in hazy pools of warmth while occasionally rising to minimal peaks of focus before receding back again. It employs similar washes of sound as Deerhunter's 2007 Cryptograms but assumes the roll of its more reserved cousin, lonely and sedated it spends its time indoors dreaming and anticipating.

A muffled child's voice clumsily narrates a ghost story in the opening few moments only to be overcome by a slow approaching wave of sampled glockenspiel that blissfully fades to the gentle rhythms and distant vocals of Recent Bedroom. Cox uses repetition to convey this dreamlike state with looping vocal formations drifting in and out of the listeners consciousness like the various stages of sleep. As the distant muffle of Recent Bedroom gives way to the crisp and clear pitter-patter of River Card you can feel yourself rising from slumber with ease and gentleness. Cold As Ice sees you fall back into the abyss only to be summoned back with angelic grandeur by the chiming synths of Small Horror. From the clipped drum roll of River Card to the sunken 4/4 techno beat of Winter Vacation, Cox smothers every minute of this record in rich effects conjured from homemade electronica.

Compared to his work with Deerhunter this is very much the sound of an individual. Sonically and thematically Let The Blind... describes the space inhabited by this one individual, be it the swirling pastoral landscape of his mind or the confines of a hospital bed. This is a very personal piece of work which manages to shimmer with warmth and shiver with icy melancholy. On Quarantined he sings "quarantined and kept so far away from friends," so his only option is to escape into this dream while he lies there "waiting to be changed."

As the closing fuzz of the final title track echoes opener A Ghost Story, you really have to emerge from this record to rejoin the real world. It's effects are subtle and it's not until it fades away that the spell is revealed and you realise how deep you have been taken. This is an abstract musical journey and seems to flow with a disjointed perfection that makes it work best as a unified whole rather than a collection of songs. It's headphone music to really disappear to and like most of Cox's work it's a fiercely original sound that knows exactly where its going and will take as long as it wants to get there. Your only choice is whether you've got what it takes to tag along.

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22nd Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Bon Iver

For Emma, Forever Ago

4AD

Imagine you're in a public place, say a train station or doctors waiting room, and you can see this person going round gently and methodically whispering in peoples ears. You notice the look on these people's faces change slowly from one of skepticism to one of wonder and delight. You'd really want to know what this person was whispering right? Well as soon as the opening notes of For Emma, Forever Ago come to rest gracefully on your ears you'll realise what everyone else was hearing and your face will too be full of wonder.

Bon Iver (an intentional mis-spelling of 'Bon Hiver,' french for 'Good Winter,') is the work of Justin Vernon and his debut album is a very special thing indeed. It's one of the most beautiful sounds I've heard in a long time and its conception came about under fiercely controlled circumstances and time scale. After the break-up of his former band, DeYarmond Edison in 2006, Vernon opted out of society and took himself off into voluntary exile. Armed with only a couple of microphones, a baritone guitar, two drums, a horn and a reverb pedal he set off for the desolate landscape of Northeast Wisconsin and spent three months alone in a log cabin. Living off the land and hunting for food Vernon was able to shut himself away from the usual chatter of the world and allow an inner voice to emerge in his work. "I recognise that the record is enigmatic and special in a strange way. I can't take full credit for it, and I was the only one there." With no firm musical objective and the basic pressures of survival to worry about these songs grew organically and were governed purely by the natural artistic process that can only flourish under these circumstances. "I was able to access deeper, darker and even happier shit just by this sort of subconscious way of doing it."

Knowing this back story is not necessary, but it adds to the uniqueness of this record. Each song reflects the barren land in which it was born, as shiver and shudder under the clear sub-zero sky, with Vernon's spectral falsetto delivery trembling delicately like the frail trees that sway in the wind outside his window. But the glow of honesty and dedication burns with the comforting warmth of the log fire that crackles within, making this record endlessly captivating and welcoming. A bleak and lonely guitar strum opens the record, with Vernon's vocals tentatively creeping into view, but it's not long before they gently swell with an increased musical accompaniment like a rising flame. "I am my mother's only one, it's enough," is the line chosen to open this record and with it we see Vernon's thoughts turn inwards to memory as if forced by the elements outside. Lump Sum produces a choral arrangement so spacious it suggests a relationship between the empty space outside and the cavernous boom of a mind devoid of worldly noise. Skinny Love sees a rising of tempo and a new gravel sound creep into the voice as it gets louder. As if by way of response to the deafening silence that prevails, Vernon's words "I told you to be patient, I told you to be fine," lift with striking force but stand ambiguous to their target, a past love or Vernon himself?

There was some degree of post production added to the record once the exile ended, with instrumental accompaniments added by Chrissy Smith of Nola on Flume and Boston musicians John DeHaven and Randy Pingrey supplying horns on For Emma. Vernon achieved the choral sound, seen to great effect on The Wolves, by countless overdubs of his own voice. The subtle addition of these third parties and overdubs work in contrast to Vernon's solitary voice, making an interesting mark on the album's atmosphere. Instead of shattering the illusion of confined spaces this only serves to enhance the loneliness, with these added elements circling the central sound like ghosts of past regret rising to the surface of the memory. For Emma is the penultimate song and the inclusion of the horn section is so startling it brings with it a sense of the regret lifting and some conclusion being reached to the questions that have encircled us throughout. It's presence here is like a brief sighting of human company in this desolation and it swells the heart to triumphant heights. But as the achingly beautiful Re: Stacks fades in, the cold and loneliness encroach once more and you wonder if this sighting was only in your mind.

Re: Stacks brings the record full circle and tapers it off with delicate melody, gentle, resolved guitar strums and the sweetest vocals on the record. It leaves you with quiet resolution and the silence that reigns after the song is finished is all the richer for the sounds that have proceeded it. In this silence you beg the world to give you just a little more time, but slowly and surely it crashes in and the spell is broken - until of course you press play again.

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21st Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

White Williams

Smoke

Double Six

Cleveland born Joe WIlliams, aka White Williams does everything he possibly can to sabotage this record, but ultimately fails. His debut record is 'unapologetic pop' which strikes me as baffling. Having toured with the likes of Girl Talk and Dan Deacon, he feels compelled to lace these sunny pop songs with touches of the avant garde. His guitar will be slightly out of key or he'll hit a bum note on the keyboard every now and again which in my mind is a form of apology to being pop music. With influences ranging from the 80's electro of The Human League (Headlines) and the hazy rock n' roll of T-Rex (In The Club) this is a collection of fairly simple and straight forward songs that would make for an enjoyable listen if the creator wasn't so preoccupied with taking his sound to other directions. So in trying to turn a pop album into a challenging slice of Art Pop he ends up doing neither.

Williams is clearly caught between some fairly obvious polar opposites. Songs like Going Down try their hardest to derail the melody with out-of-tune quirkiness but fail to rival the adventures of the afore mentioned Dan Deacon and the unlistenable noise of Lice In The Rainbow, a three and a half minute headache of directionless squeaks and twitters, aims at the abstract compositions of Black Dice - whom Williams also opened for with his previous band, but just serves to irritate the listener beyond belief. The title track, with its slow, plodding electronica and muffled vocals is so devoid of any substance it crumbles at the slightest glance, like a Tarantino plot line.

I hate to be so negative as this album does show signs of potential. Danger is the best song here, as it emerges from a cloud of tuneless mess it slips smoothly into a blissed out melody consisting of one word, "Danger." But it's a sad state of affairs when the strongest song features one word repeated over and over. Williams' desire to fit into that dubious genre 'Art Pop' is ultimately what kills this record. He has a natural ability to create effortless melody and catchy hooks but his half-hearted avant-garde dressing removes this from any genre at all and thins the whole thing down to dishwater. I realise this review sounds a bit like a school report and for that I apologise, seeing as the age old phrase we all experienced, "could try harder," doesn't really apply here as Williams' ultimate failing is that he's just trying way too hard.

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21st Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Jethro Tull

Bournemouth Pavillion

April 16th, 2008

Jethro Tull are on the UK leg of their 40th anniversary tour. In fact, it appears that they have been toured for every one of those 40 years, with a back-catalogue that has grown to include a mix of jazz-fusion, R&B, folk rock and heavy metal, leaving no shortage of things to play. Two members remain from the early days – founder, front man, folk rock guru and general good guy Ian Anderson, looking like the Pirate King meets Fagin, and lead guitar hero Martin Barre. Unfortunately they have a bit of a problem with Ian’s voice - which was never the strongest - and is now in some difficulty with the higher notes. Their solution is to play plenty of the early jazz flute based numbers; invite a young guest vocalist to help with the tricky ones; concentrate on the anthems and pump up the volume.

This they did to good effect, finishing with their greatest hits Thick As A Brick, Aqualung and the always excellent Locomotive Breath.

“Too Old to Rock and Roll; Too Young to Die”? – don’t believe a word of it.

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#Gig
#Puskas

18th Apr 2008 - 5 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Tokyo Police Club

Elephant Shell

Saddle Creek

In 2006 I wrote the following about this Toronto bands debut EP:

"A Lesson In Crime has glimmers of hope and offers more than enough clues that this is a band that, given the space of a full length album, could produce something great."

Well here we are, a year and a half later and Tokyo Police Club's debut album is upon us, but unfortunately it too shows glimmers of hope that this band have something great in them. The space that I had hoped for in a full-length seems to have diluted the edge they possessed in 2006 making Elephant Shell - by no means a bad record but not the tour-de-force their EP had hinted at.

Musically it's pretty similar to the EP with driving guitars and a rapid-fire drum pace propelling the songs forward but Dave Monk's vocals seem to have been sand-blasted down to a smooth mediocrity that is really the source of this albums diluted sound. I know it sounds perverse to site this as the fault when in my earlier review I highlighted the songs that strayed away from the "Strokes-like" rasp of Monk's voice as being the most promising but even in these songs there was a trace of effects and gravel to make it an interesting sound. In Elephant Shell it barely changes from song to song regardless of the change up in pace, in fact it sounds the most comfortable on The Harrowing Adventures Of with its acoustic strum and low-key tempo.

It's a much bigger record though with the force of the guitars setting their sights on the soaring heights of bands like Interpol or Editors giving this sound an added weight and a maturity that definitely improves on their earlier work. The stop-start technique of this driving sonic backbone in songs like Graves and Sixties Remake forms the basis of most of the record with Monk's vocals slotting in after the guitars subside taking the pounding drum as the only accompaniment until they all join forces for the rousing chorus. It works well when some of the more successful elements of the EP are rejoined. Tessellate sees the band bring back the furious hand-claps and Your English Is Good kicks off with a shouting rabble intro and comes as close as any of the songs to the rasping grit that Monk showed earlier.

The 2006 EP had large doses of The Strokes and that has been dealt with here but in its place they seem to have adopted the generic sound of a hundred indie bands making up the numbers in todays crowded scene. This is unfortunate as put alongside some of those acts like Editors these four guys have way more to give. They aren't a one-trick, derivative waist of space like a lot of the stuff being rammed down our necks but they really need to find their voice if they want to be heard above todays indie din.

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#BC

17th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Death Set

Worldwide

Counter Records

For a number of quite obvious reasons, it’s not very often that I compare myself to Arnold ‘The Governator’ Schwarzenegger, nor for that matter Hulk ‘The Hulk’ Hogan or perhaps for younger readers Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson. However, listening to the debut album ‘Worldwide’ by the much travelled The Death Set, got me thinking of the pumped-up trio of Strongmen-turned-actors - more specifically the fish-out-of-water genre of films that each turned their not inconsiderable hand to. I’m thinking Arnie’s Kindergarten Cop, the Hulk’s Mr Nanny and The Rock’s recent fodder Game Plan, each of which feature our macho and mature heroes lost and cut adrift in a world of small children and high energy.

I’ll make no claim to macho, but am inevitably maturing and on first listen found Worldwide a disorientating experience, like finding yourself in a classroom of screaming kids and an empty crate of red bull. Making the Go Team sound middle of the road - it’s hard to stomach in one sitting. 18 songs in 26 minutes gives you an idea of the frenetic pace and energy of the album.

The band were spawned in Australia, temporarily based themselves in Brooklyn before settling in Baltimore, attracted by the city’s abandoned factories and their potential for holding kick-ass parties, and it’s seeing footage and photos of those kick-ass parties (ie Live shows) that help paint a bigger picture as to what The Death Set are all about. It’s a raucous affair, with the band placing themselves out on the floor, amongst the fans, with no shortage of blood, sweat and beer. They bring to mind the photos of Glen E. Friedman, who documented the US Hardcore scene of the early 80's – whereas punk back then was played at breakneck speed and driven by anger, The Death Set play at breakneck speed, but seem to be angry at anger, naming as they do, comedy and positivity as major influences.

I regard a bunch of those Hardcore bands as early personal favourites (Minor Threat, Circle Jerks, Black Flag). but there is no way I could maintain that pace and energy and inyourfacefuckyouness as the years pass. So, The Death Set, whilst cajoling a bit of nostalgia, aren’t going to be on heavy rotation in chimpovich palace, which of course is my problem and not theirs. Whilst they’re burning down the scene and hosting kick-ass parties, I’ll be lamely heading to the gym, trying to transform this gut into something nowhere near approaching Hulk, Rock and Arnie proportions.

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#chimpovich

16th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Wire

Season Five

HBO

sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit it's good

#TV
#chimp71

15th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Four Tet

Ringer

Domino

Say what you like about Four Tet but "same ol, same ol" is unlikely to be included. Having put out a rather under-par fourth album in 2005 with Everything Ecstatic and following it with ongoing collaboration with Steve Reid this 4 track EP is the first piece of solo material we've been given for a while, but boy was it worth the wait. Having slightly exhausted his form of cut-up beats and calamitous percussion, he crafts here a more minimal and deep techno formation that hints at conforming but always keeps it's hand hovering dangerously over the sabotage button where the slightest press could send the beat spiraling off into glorious irregularity.

From the opening title track to the closing disco percussion of Wing Body Wing these songs take in deep breaths of space then exude from their every pore sublime ripples of sonic richness. At over 10 minutes in length Ringer is a stunning way to open this EP. The sense of space is achieved by the slow build up and gradual layering of vast swathes of tone and delicate beats that climb upon eachother, higher and higher, until they stand proud, surveying this endless landscape. Ribbons drips with moist lushness while Swimmer rides the wave of a constant, resonating tone then slowly fades in erratic cymbal beats that swirl from one ear to the next with anarchic confidence. Wing Body Wing pulls focus on Hebdon's trademark recuttings of jazz breaks and brings them into line with a deep heartbeat and almost african rhythms. Gentle melody tip-toes around this rhythm making way for driving bursts of synthesizer.

This EP heralds a very promising direction for Hebdon. This is techno made with an afrobeat/krautrock sensibility and it may be minimal but this artists grasp of detail is very much present. Every moment of this record has been viewed under a microscope but the result sounds effortless and joyous. It beats with an unstoppable pulse and shields its eyes from the glaring sunshine ahead as it looks forward to the expanding horizon it has just created.

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15th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Mike Patton

A Perfect Place (Original Sound Track)

Ipecac Recordings

Sooner or later this was going to happen:- Mike Patton, former singer of Faith No More and curator of a dozen musical projects, has been given the opportunity to write the musical soundtrack to a movie and it's an opportunity he does not let go to waste. Patton's fans will have long recognised his fascination with the melodies of John Barry, Angelo Badalamenti and Henry Mancini, and this is the place where he finally gets to show that he really has the musical chops to stand alongside his influences. Patton fans will therefore have some pretty solid expectations of this project and I can safely say they won't be dissapointed. Imagine Fantomas' Director's Cut album, minus the thrash metal element and with new melodies, and you're halfway there.

The strongest influence is perhaps John Barry - specifically Barry's theme for the Ipcress File - and these tracks resound with zithers, theramin and spaghetti-western guitars. There are only three vocal tracks, one of which is sung in Italian, but the rest of the record plays just like a soundtrack ought to - with established themes, reprises and re-arrangements of the main melodies.

The soundtrack has a longer running time than the movie, which is more of a short film and is included in the package on DVD - but regardless of its contextual use, the music stands up really well by itself. The main theme is very catchy - I've found myself humming it in its various forms while I go about my day - and this can only be a good thing. For the future, Patton has expressed an interest in working with David Lynch, and I think he's easily man enough for the job, but whether they end up working together or not, this record at least proves that someone should give Patton a proper big-budget full length movie soundtrack to compose.

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#HarrisPilton

14th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Shine A Light

(dir. Martin Scorsese)

If you're into the Stones, Martin Scorsese's new concert film is a treat. Stacks of cameras roam around the small concert hall, getting in so close you can see Mick Jagger's fillings and the deep lines carved on their faces. It's like watching the Mount Rushmore heads rock out.

After the brief intro section that has Scorsese stressing about the setlist, and the Clintons showing up to shake hands backstage and welcome them onto stage, it's pretty much two hours of solid hits from the Bigger Bang tour, spanning their loooooong back catalogue. Start Me Up, Jumping Jack Flash, Satisfaction, Sympathy For The Devil etc are all there, but what's cool is that they also head into some of the slightly more obscure numbers - She Was Hot, Shattered, Faraway Eyes, and a great acoustic version of As Tears Go By.

Jack White sits in on Loving Cup, Christina Aguilera shows up for a little pantomime bump 'n grind with Mick on Live With Me, and Buddy Guy storms through Champagne And Reefer, earning himself a guitar from Keith Richards in the process. These breaks are also complemented by the traditional give-Mick-a-breather bit where Keith and Ronnie Wood take over - and also by some nicely placed retro footage from their whole career, reminding you just how they got here. No real shots of Brian Jones, Bill Wyman or Mick Taylor, which is a little odd maybe, but this is really about the Stones now. Over and over as the decades pass in the interview clips they're asked how long they think they can still keep going. The answer seems to be: as long as they're still here. There's a great shot of Charlie Watts early on, smiling into the camera - exhausted, but loving it. Can't ask for much more.

#Film
#chimp71

12th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Why?

Alopecia

Anticon

Returning from the recent staff snowboard trip I stopped off at San Francisco's Amoeba Records and picked up my copy of Why?'s Alopecia. It seemed a fitting place to purchase this Bay Area artist and so with that and a few other missing pieces to the Anticon puzzle I embarked on the 10 hour return journey to London. Maybe it was the severe lack of sleep, or the numerous injuries that plagued my aged body - but on returning home I was all set to hit the Chimp office with a rather disappointing review of this record. After the few disjointed play-throughs on the plane, this follow up to 2005's delightful Elephant Eyelash lacked it's predecessors energy and edge. It seemed to be a pale and overproduced shadow of the work achieved by Yoni Wolf in the past.

So having started this relationship on the sunny Californian shores it took a prolonged 2 hour traffic jam on a rainy Thursday night on the A3 for the love affair to begin. Anticipating a half-hour journey, this was the only CD on my person and after about 4 back-to-back plays this record stared me square in the face with astonishing honesty and made me ashamed of the thoughts I had formed in my pitiful mind. Yoni Wolf's transformation from lo-fi, underground hip-hop to melodic indie-pop seemed to be near completion on the recent Hollows EP and I guess my initial disappointment was wrapped up in that fact. I have always been in favor of this transformation as throughout Wolf's work with either cLOUDDEAD or Reaching Quiet his gift for a melody was always there but under used and during the first half of Alopecia it is heavily exploited.

Alopecia is made up of two halves and most of the deal makers occur in the latter part of the record. From the outset it's obvious that the production has never been slicker. Wolf has always been the figurehead of a lo-fi, homemade sound but things have changed. The Vowels Pt. 2 kicks off proceedings with short, plodding steps and it's clear this hike in production quality is being put to good use. This shiny, crystal clear melody loosely glosses over the dark themes that run through this record. Sex and death is pretty much it, making Alopecia far more twisted than its predecessor. Lines like "faking suicide for applause in the food court of malls" are the norm here not to mention, "sucking dick for drink tickets and the free bar of my cousins Bar Mitzvah." Death usually relates to Yoni's own demise and is always delivered in rosy, tongue-in-cheek candy wrappers. Fatalist Palmistry begins "I sleep on my back cos it's good for the spine and coffin rehearsal.

Wolf's vocal range is what makes his work so listenable. He can go from the low, shuffling rap of Good Friday to the nasal melody of These New Presidents and his writing is so surreal, bustling with imagery and so meticulously pronounced that your ear is forced to attempt to decipher each verse but rarely succeeds . On the unnerving Simeon's Dilemma Wolf assumes the role of a stalker and describes his obsession with a certain female by way of high pitched singing tones which makes the content even more cringeworhty.

As heard on the recent EP, The Hollows carries the weight here with a rarely heard increase in volume by means of grinding guitars and crescendo vocals. The Fall Of Mr. Fifths marks the turning point of the record. It's way more in line with Wolf's earlier Anticon work with rapid delivered spoken verse and surrounded by textural atmosphere. A Sky For Shoeing Horses Under continues the spoken verse with rain-drop-like keyboards trickling down around it, it's a simple and all too short piece of work but emerges as one of the finest moments on the record. The other comes in the form of By Torpedo Or Crohn's. This was the other stand out track on the EP with a remix by Dntel, but this version is slower and allows much needed room to truly appreciate Wolf's art.

It's an art that is second to none and the distance this band have come is astonishing. Though darker in tone Alopecia is a definite progression from the airy Elephant Eyelash. Its another step to the honing of their direction and it's quite rare to see a band with direction these days. Wolf crams so many ideas into every breath of this record that it will take a lifetime to uncover it all. The shame I feel at my early judgement now serves as a reminder of the depth and complexity of this album, to not like it is to not get it i'm afraid.

#Music
#HHG

11th Apr 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Clinic

Do It

Domino

For some strange reason, whenever I listen to Clinic I get this twisted vision of the band as puppet masters and on the end of their strings dance the recently slaughtered bodies of the Beach Boys. Lifeless, yet eerily animated, these corpses play out Clinic's own brand of surf-punk with singer Ade Blackburn's pursed-lipped vocals crawling from the mouth of Brian Wilson like maggots from a Thunderbird. Anyway...on with the review.

Do It is Clinic's fifth album and sees the band inhabiting much the same universe that they've been sole occupiers of since they started. It's a warped technicolor celebration that can veer from dreamy pop to acid psychosis with very little advance warning. This bipolar tension is deliciously seductive and on Do It Clinic have never sounded so relaxed and so uptight.

Memories opens this record with a gentle harpsichord chime which clears the way for a stomping marching band of calamitous percussion and driving guitars. With unstoppable ferocity it tramples down the aural highstreet of your mind, stopping dead as Blackburn imparts his bittersweet wisdom, then marching on as the occupying forces take their positions. The guitar strings on Tomorrow nearly buckle under the weight of the empty twang while single The Witch continues the advancing assault with thunderous guitars and booming rhythm. Shopping Bag is the point where this army takes up position and the real battle begins. With ferocious drumming and wild clarinet squeals Blackburn's voice reaches fever pitch as it assumes a crazed, demonic tone. It marks the most feral point of this record and even though the downbeat tempo of Corpus Christi shows no signing of afflicting the same damage its seething tension and distant squeals spell danger.

The juxtaposition that inhabits Clinic's sound is what give them their edge. Stylistically Do It doesn't stray too far from the ground covered by 2006's Visitations but simply reinforces and subtly steps up the tension between paranoia and tranquil waters. Their music envelopes the listener in an almost drug induced haze where nothing is as it seems. Visions of mysterious fortune tellers' horses in High Coin or the booming fog horn on Mary And Eddie loom out of this haze like dark ships that threaten your every turn. Each song continues this maniacal descent into madness as they spin you round and round on their twisted broken-down fair ground ride until you emerge, exhausted, the other side to the sound of chiming church bells. There is a reason why Clinic inhabit their own universe, no one else dares.

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#BC

9th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Colin Meloy

Sings Live!

Kill Rock Stars

We all know that Denzel Washington never deserved an Academy Award for his role in Training Day, but was given it in light of the countless times he was overlooked for more worthy roles. Likewise in 2006, by some unforgivable act of neglect this revered website you look to for guidance failed to cover the release of The Decemberists major label debut The Crane Wife. After the roaring success of Picaresque, The Crane Wife was a significant rise in production and scale for this band and the result was stunning. I will not attempt to squeeze in a review here as the damage is done and it would be a case of too little too late. Instead I will adopt the Academy's logic and give this record a glowing review. The only difference being that Sings Live! doesn't suck like Training Day did and it is more than worthy of the praise it's about to get.

This album covers The Decemberists front man's 2006 solo tour and it features 13 Meloy originals, 2 of which are previously unreleased (although Meloy claims one of these is the worst song he's ever written.) Opening with Devil's Elbow, a song from his previous band Tarkio, this live set spans pretty much the full Descemberists back catalogue but sadly none from The Crane Wife. This show coincided with the 'tour-only' release of Colin Meloy Sings Shirley Collins, a six song EP paying homage to the British folksinger, one of which is featured here. This follows the previous covers EP Colin Meloy Sings Morrissey. This penchant for the cover version is expressed expertly in the form of a verse or two from songs by The Smiths, Fleetwood Mac, Pink Floyd and REM being sneaked on to the dying chords of many of the songs which really transforms this record from being simply a stripped down 'best of.'

It's no surprise that this particular songwriter should cover Morrissey, as since he first began he has shown a similar eye for the descriptive detail and the unique turn of phrase to express his wit and wisdom. His tales heave with historic passion, dripping with revenge and devotion and to hear them as distilled as this is a treat. The Picaresque songs like We Both Go Down Together and The Engine Driver are received with rapturous applause but some of the earlier material really shines like the sinister A Cautionary Song and the 12 minute marathon of California One/Youth And Beauty Brigade - both from Castaways and Cutouts. Closing with the rare and beautiful Bandit Queen from the Picaresqueties EP, this acoustic show is a unique opportunity to see the bare bones of this talent.

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7th Apr 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Orphanage

(dir. Juan Antonio Bayona)

This is the directorial debut of Juan Antonio Bayona and together with screenwriter Sergio Sanchez they have produced a modern ghost story that uses time honored traditions of horror and suspense to create a truly chilling piece of work. It centres around a small family unit, Laura (Belen Rueda) her husband Carlos (Fernando Cayo) and their adopted nine-year-old son Simon (Roger Princep), who return to the barren, coastal orphanage where Laura spent some of her childhood in order to re-establish it as a home for handicapped children. Pretty soon she becomes aware of a new set of 'imaginary' friends that seem to join in with Simon's carefree games. Innocent treasure hunts soon lose their charm when the treasure becomes something you really care about.

The less you know about the plot of this film the more you'll enjoy and succumb to its intrigue. The Orphanage has been brought to the screen by executive producer Guillermo del Toro - who clearly shines as a major influence here. Like the dazzling Pan's Labyrinth it delves deep into the imaginary worlds of a child's imagination and the fear that can arise from an adults inability to follow. Like del Toro's own film The Devil's Backbone, The Orphanage recognises and exploits the basic fear we all have through the vulnerability of children.

In a genre populated by countless teen-slasher films this film's superior grasp of the things that make us all scared is stunning. Both aesthetically and stylistically this is a traditional horror film in the sense that it all takes place in an old house full of dark rooms and even darker secrets. The fear is delivered with restraint and tension recognising that there is nothing more scary than what we create in our own minds. But their is an inevitable contemporary unease that presides over this story. The constant stream of child abductions that populate our news broadcasts and the recent horrors that have been uncovered in the Haut de la Garenne children's home in Jersey all serve to enhance our dread at the events that unfold.

This film may be subtle in it's fear delivery approach but there were several moments where everyone in the cinema screamed uncontrollably. The film opens with the young Laura facing a tree saying "one, two , three: knock on the door," then turning around to see how close her friends have approached, so when, as an adult, she is forced to repeat the same game in a darkened room in order to tempt the child- ghosts out of their hiding places the fear was tangible and audible throughout the cinema. There is also a 'jaw-dropping' car accident and a sack-masked child to scare the living daylights out of you as well.

Ever since The Shining I have been intrigued by a film that claims to be truly frightening but have been disappointed on many occasions. It doesn't seem hard to push our fear buttons but so many film makers repeatedly get it wrong opting for gore and violence over suggestion and subtlety. Together with Alejandro Amenabar (The Others) this crop of directors have an intelligence and sensitivity which, when put withquality acting performances, create some truly terrifying cinema experiences.

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4th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Speck Mountain

Summer Above

Peacefrog

Released way back in 2006, Summer Above - the debut album Chicago's Speck Mountain - is finally reaching our European ears  and like a fine rain it has seeped into my life without me even realizing. Entirely self-produced this record is one of such profound yet subtle beauty that you'll have to be careful not to miss it. Its impact is slow-release and comes in the form of dreamy, psychedelic pop-rock, built on organ drones, shimmering guitars and singer Marie-Claire Balabanian's soft, sedated, honey-dipped vocals.

The title song chimes in with dirty, jangly guitars which lay down an almost 2 minute long soundscape for the first, sweet breath of Balabanian's voice. Close and intimate, nobody is in any hurry to prove themselves here and by the end of this opening track the spell is cast. Hey Moon is a stripped down slice of minimal expertise while Midnight Sun shines with melancholic warmth. Fjord Song sees Balabanian's vocals dripping in reverb and as a result vast caverns of sound emerge from this previously barren landscape like long forgotten monuments. This seems to clear the way for a new and fresher sound and Chlorine Fields is the mighty forerunner of this. At over 8 minutes long it holds you with baited breath in suspended animation before embarking on a tripped out instrumental marathon that sees swirling organ spiraling into an abyss of droning guitar and a thick fog of sound. And if the advancing rain of this record has been building to this point then album closer Blood Is Clean is the fresh result of a storm passing. Clean and crisp, it is the antidote to the previous song and with typical restraint it finishes this record off perfectly.

Speck Mountain have brought with them comparisons to such bands as The Velvet Underground and Mazzy Star, they could also inspire memories of more contemporary sounds like that of Yo La Tengo but ultimately their success is all their own. There is a confidence and humility here that slows the whole thing down to a gentle hum. They effortlessly create space then take their time to fill it. It's repetition and time that makes this sound bore its way into your soul, it swirls with glorious psychedelia but Balabanian's vocals have a focus and clarity that maintain a foreground presence and keeps things from descending into hazy, intoxicated obscurity. Like an exploding star the light of Speck Mountain has taken its time to reach us but now that it's here we can all bask in its warmth.

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3rd Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Cinematic Orchestra

Live At The Royal Albert Hall

Ninja Tune

For those who are yet to see The Cinematic Orchestra live then let this wet your appetite for what is truly a unique musical experience. Without belittling Jason Swinscoe's scintillating recordings this group were born to play live. This is where they truly live up to their name and what better place to convey this than in the Royal Albert Hall. On November 2nd 2007 Swinscoe brought with him an enhanced line up which featured the 24 piece Heritage Orchestra to this historic venue and dazzled an audience of more than 4000 people.

This recording aims to convey this extraordinary live event and really the only fault worth mentioning is that a recording can't possibly do justice to this night and though many of the original vocalists are not present this CD is a close second best.

Opening with Every Day's stand out song All That You Give, this night was all about using the original songs as platforms from which to launch the musical potential that lies within this group. Like any jazz ensemble the musicians here use the original structure of each song as a base to return to after their sonic journeys into the rafters of this great venue. Flite rolls along on the trademark drumbeat while guitar and organ dance playfully around it and great swathes of strings lift and lift. Last spring saw the release of Ma Fleur which featured the achingly beautiful song To Build A Home. Changing up on the vocalist here this live version has little of the magnitude of the original and is one of the few instances where the recording triumphs over the live. However this is all soon forgotten when we enter the opening phase of the epic and now classic Ode To The Big Sea. At over 14 minutes long we revisit in striking glory the jazz routs of this band. Though dazzling in their own right the last few albums have taken Swinscoe's outfit away from the free jazz sound and it really is special to see them return in such style. Skipping along to rain-drop-like piano we build to a frantic drum solo that just about marks the mid way point. A clarinet heralds the change up and with the hall silent the experimentation really begins. Accompanied by electronic bleeps this pair really use the space provided and receive rousing applause from the crowd for their courage when the drums finally rejoin them.

The whole night is concluded with Time And Space featuring Lou Rhodes of Lamb. A sedate yet beautiful end to a very special evening. After experiencing this live show you'd want a recording such as this to keep the memory alive.

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1st Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet