Chimpomatic

Latitude Festival

Henham Park, Southwold, Suffolk

I have always been of the opinion that dysentery is a disease best avoided.  After attending the Latitude Festival however, which took place last weekend in Henham Park, Suffolk, I realise that there may be many of you who are not so fastidious.

By all accounts last year’s festival, the first ever Latitude, was a grand affair; 10,000 people, families welcome (encouraged even), beautiful country park and good music.  Seduced by this proposal I followed a group of friends up the A12 and spent four days in an authentic, if slightly more squalid recreation of an earthquake refugee camp.

I have reached a respectable age and had thus far managed to avoid ever attending a music festival.  As someone who is mildly agoraphobic and plagued by an autistic need to bathe myself once a day, it may not have been a good idea to change the habit of a lifetime. 

With a gleeful wringing of hands the organisers announced on the eve of kick-off that all tickets had been sold.  20,000 people this year but apparently no proportionate increase in the facilities or the size of the arenas.  An excrement mountain due to an inadequate number of toilets; a complete collapse of water pressure and thus showers and overcrowding in several venues was the result.  The heavens took pity and, apart from a couple of heavy showers, blessed the reeking campers with sunshine and merry weather.

Day one; It was all about Wilco.  Two Gallants, Midlake, The Fields, began slowly cranking up the afternoon, but I was already worried that the weekend’s line-up which had looked so promising, might have been a bit heavy on whining and men sincerely frowning over their guitars.  Now Wilco are ostensibly a band of men who frown sincerely over their guitars, but they are also schizophrenic and utterly compelling. 

Before they got on stage I was bored; bored by the many children running around, bored by not being able to bring your own booze into the arena, bored by the crowds packed solidly into the comedy arena sheltering from quite a few boring performances.  The Magic Numbers had bounced the audience around a bit, but I just can’t take the whole beard and siblings thing.  It’s all a bit creepy, inspite of the smiley faces.

Then Wilco walked out and with a great white burn of lights, a heave of the crowd and a wall of guitars, they gave a performance to wake everybody up.  I had seen them in May at Shepherd’s Bush Empire and the hour-long set they played at Latitude shared all the highlights from that night but seemed even more determined.  New album ‘Sky Blue Sky’ got a good outing with storming renditions of ‘Walken’ and ‘Shake it off’.  Albums ‘Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’ and ‘A Ghost Is Born’ also got their hits out; teasing the audience with their gentle melodies before snapping into trademark guitar tsunamis and feedback.  Inspired.

Like a musical dose of Valium, Damien Rice must have been back-stage anxiously waiting to numb the crowd from their Wilco-induced high.  His presence in this otherwise exhilarating line-up was inexplicable and who in the world stayed to listen to him I couldn’t stay - but boy, the rapturous noise they made when he’d finished echoed across the campsite. Most disturbing.

Day two;  Bit of a slow builder again.  Herman Dune and Bat for Lashes on the main stage competed for ‘Sound-alike of the day’.  The Cretin who compared the former ‘to the likes of Bob Dylan’ should be strung up with guitar wire; this blatant Jonathan Richman tribute band are within a Nordic-facial-hair’s breadth of copyright infringement.  As for ‘Bat for lashes’, again the literature describes her as having been ‘compared to Bjork, Cat Power and Tori Amos’.  ‘Derivative of’ might be more accurate. 

Prize for most enthusiastic performance of the festival goes to The Hold Steady’.  They run on stage like a bunch of college jocks and front man Craig Finn, announces, ‘We’re the Hold Steady and we’re here to have a good time!’  It’s the last day of their tour and they are clearly over-excited. ‘Stuck between stations’, ‘Massive Night’, ‘Party Pit’ all provoke a lot of finger pointing form the crowd of forty-something-blokes enjoying some healthy man-rock and working themselves up to a belching coronary.  The band strings out every guitar crescendo and look like they never want to leave.  As Craig says, ‘When we started out it was so we could all meet a couple of nights a week and drink some beer.  This is beyond our wildest dreams’.

If Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, who followed, had had a modicum of The Hold Steady’s energy they would have avoided my nomination for Biggest Disappointment of the weekend.  As it was, my own hands were reluctant to celebrate contrived, gurney, vocals and a dull performance.  If they’d played the CD’s of their two albums I’d have had a great time. 

And so it was that CSS brought their balloons onto the stage of the Obelisk arena and revived a sagging day.  The crowd needed relief and their vacuous dance-pop perked it up like effervescent vitamin C.   ‘Let’s make love (and listen to death from above)’ closed the set.  With helium in her lungs Lovefoxxx squealed out her appreciation to the audience after an hour of cat suited carnival.

The Good the Bad and the Queen had to headline I guess, but it was another strange change of tempo when they ambled on. ‘History Song’ and ‘Herculean’ are unexpectedly ballsy, in no small part due to the contributions of Clash Bassist, Paul Simonon.  He takes control of the stage with loping strides and a brooding presence, plucking at his guitar and sending his deep bass across the crowd like a defibrillator.  A Dickensian London backdrop and a top hat for Mr Albarn seem to court great Blakean comparisons; Songs of Innocence and Experience.  And although he’s a very clever boy, Damon’s a right annoying twat with it.  ‘Soldier’s Tale’ comes with a sanctimonious nod to the ‘Soldier I met who was going to Iraq’ and when he brings on MC Eslam Jawaad for the encore I’m squirming at the smug self-consciousness of it all. 

When the band plays ‘80’s life’ I can’t help but think of the last Blur album, and clearly I’m not the only one musing on this.  In the audience there are a lot of girls grinning.  Occasionally I hear one of them shouting, ‘I want to fuck you Damon’… which suggests that something less than raging Anti-war sentiments were rousing the crowd’s passions.

Day three; My limbs are crippled, caked with filth resulting from the lack of shower facilities.  An internal build up of noxious fumes as I attempt to avoid going to the toilet and asphyxiation by medieval stench when I finally do, have all left me in a bad way.  So far this whole Festival bollocks is proving no substitute for a good three-hour gig at the Brixton Academy.

But that’s ok because today’s line up is looking good.  I was annoyed to miss most of the Andrew Bird set after collapsing with exhaustion from my third toilet trip of the day.  All this hovering above the chasm and straining is traumatizing me.  What I eventually do hear sounds bewitching in the summer afternoon.  The drummer, Dosh (accomplished electro-musician himself), gives fine support to Bird who provides vocals, looping violins, guitars, glockenspiel and goddam fine whistling.

Next up The National, whom I’ve been anticipating like a child waits for Christmas.  But Oh No! What’s this?…. there appears to be confusion on stage.  Look, there are Messrs Dessner, Dessner, Devendorf and Devendorf, but what are they doing spending so long tinkering with their instruments and sticking tape onto everything?  It transpires that The National arrived at Henham Park ten minutes ago and came empty handed.  None of their instruments deigned to suffer the stench of Latitude so they’re having to borrow everything off the Cold War Kids and Andrew Bird.

It shows.  The band look ravaged and uneasy with their purloined Orchestra.  There are great songs in there somewhere; ‘Mistaken for Strangers’ (from their latest album ‘Boxer’), ‘Karen’ (off of ‘Songs for Dirty Lovers’) and ‘Mr November’ (from ‘Alligator’) but there is no subtlety to the sound.  Lyrical contributions from keyboards and violins that make the albums so symphonic and full are totally swamped by the guitars.  Lines like ‘I used to be carried in the arms of a cheerleader’ or ‘The English are coming!’ should by rights swell this audience to a festival frenzy and the lead singer is trying hard.  He rasps ‘I won’t fuck us over!’ with a kind of tortured mania that seems ironically relevant to the shitty day they’re having but it feels like a bit of a lost cause.  Two songs from the end of this too-short set they kick into ‘Fake Empire’ and it’s almost like they get their conviction back.  I get goose bumps with the rhythmic build and the crowd responds, maybe they’ve just warmed up?!  Well they have, but now they’ve got to get off; ‘Thank you very much! I’m glad we got here because half an hour ago it looked like we wouldn’t make it’.  I feel cheated.

The Cold War Kids do well next and The Rapture, like CSS last night, provide a poptastic interlude which the crowds devour.  I sense that a lot of people are getting a bit tired of some of the slightly dour singer-song writing going on and want a sugar rush.  ‘Get myself into it’ and ‘Whoo!  Alright-Yeah… Uh’ do the job and you have to hand it to them, Matt Safer and Luke Jenner know how to handle their audience.  They tease us by walking on and off stage, bounce off each other vocally and insist on being resiliently up beat. 

Jarvis Cocker is on stage next as the sun begins to sink and if you haven’t been able to make it to the Comedy tent, Jarvis provides plenty of star cabaret.  Again, however, there is the sense that everyone would probably rather be watching Pulp, just as last night they would have much preferred Blur to the drones of Damon and his crew.  But Jarvis encapsulated his previous band more singularly than Damon ever did, so if you close your eyes you can almost daydream that…

‘I stand astride these two monitors like the Rock Colossus that I am’, claims the lanky one as he bemuses the crowd with surreal commentaries on the weather.  He then gains our instant favour by empathising with the epic efforts required to have got this far into the Festival.  ‘The world is still run by cunts’, brings his set to an end and those of us who weren’t expecting much are impressed by a run of songs which have never been less than engaging.  Just as I finish clapping and start to, mentally prepare myself for the festival finale with the Arcade Fire, Jarvis reappears;

‘We were going to end there but I just want to play you one more song which I promise this band will never play again’. 

‘What?  A golden slice of Pulp!’, the crowd wonders eagerly, ‘Common People’, ‘Disco 2000’?!…

‘It’s called, the Eye of the Tiger’.

‘What?’

And so off they go.  Jarvis and his band play themselves out with a sparkling cover of Eye of the Tiger and the exhausted crowd smile and cheer their appreciation.

If day one had been all about Wilco, then I guess the whole festival was really about the Sunday night headliners.  I’m sure that anyone reading this would probably take the credit for introducing their friends to the Arcade Fire, probably the most exciting band in the world at present.  But to find yourself in a field with 20,000 people equally convinced that the band are their own private discovery, throws you a little.

The scene is set with a great red velvet backdrop, several oversized Victorian camera props onto which are projected surreal faces in black and white and a lot of red neon.  Tantalizingly the stage is covered with all manner or paraphernalia; hurdy-gurdies, cymbals and the pipes of a great organ.  In the hands of an army of musicians each gets its moment in the limelight during a performance which just keeps getting better.

The husband and wife pairing of Win Butler and Regine Chassagne take it in turns to lead the way on a comprehensive journey through their two albums, Neon Bible and Funeral.  From the pounding urgency of ‘No cars go’ to the swelling Mariachi trumpets of ‘Ocean of Noise’ there is no escaping the band’s persistent inventiveness and passion.  Highlights were aplenty but the Bruce Springsteen coloured tracks ‘Antichrist Television Blues’ and ‘Keep the car running’ were blistering.  Projected onto the backdrop was footage taken from a camera apparently embedded in the snare drum.  Watching a giant drummer beating the rhythm out so relentlessly was mesmerising as the music continued to build, crescendoing in the ‘Power out’ and as a finale, ‘Rebellion (Lies)’.  As the performance came to a close fireworks showered over the back of the audience and someone lit a series of paper lanterns that billowed softly up into the night sky.  The band seemed just as entranced by the moment as they looked out over 20,000 arms clapping in time to the music; ‘Every time you close your eyes’ they sang but we didn’t dare.

If I’m honest I’d have to say that Butler’s voice repeatedly got lost in the roar of the music and I found myself anxious that he was straining to meet the range which his songs demanded in a live performance.  Perhaps I was just distracted by the tuneless moron next to me who insisted on droning loudly and inanely along with the music: and there are a lot of opportunities to accompany the songs of the Arcade Fire with a choice bit of off-key humming. 

Latitude 2007 will be the first and last festival I ever attend.  Three days of crowds, camping and mountains of faeces, book ended by two fantastic performances by Wilco and the genius of Arcade Fire.  If anything it has convinced me to spend a lot more time in the Shepherd’s Bush Empire enjoying whole-hearted performances by some of the great bands who were compromised by poor organisation and shorter sets.  To my mind learning that may have made the whole experience worth it.

Overall experience - 2
Music in general - 3.5
Arcade fire and Wilco - 4.

#Music
#Gig
#LG

19th Jul 2007 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Monkey: Journey to the West

Palace Theatre, Manchester

The flagship event of the Manchester International Festival is an ambitious one: An opera with music by Damon Albarn, designs by Jamie Hewlett and direction by Chen Shi-Zheng entirely in Mandarin. The two-hour work involves a cast of 45-odd martial artists, acrobats and singers - and in the case of Fei Yang, who plays Monkey, often all three simultaneously.

The event is nothing short of spectacular. The opening sequence, with animations by Hewlett, which deals with Monkey's birth (hatched from a giant egg, which was expelled from a great stone) is perfectly coordinated with the live music. Later in the scene, which switches effortlessly to the live players, Monkey with other monkeys climbs up the bamboo trees - which is reminiscent of the scenes in Crouching Tiger and Flying Daggers, except that these people are really doing it.

The story, which many chimps will be familiar with, is a Chinese classic. Monkey is obsessed with seeking immortality and magical power, and travels over continents to find a teacher. He eventually finds Subodhi, a Taoist master, who teaches him how to fly on a magical cloud that can carry him on great distances, and the art of transforming himself into anything he wants.

He then dives into the Eastern Sea and finds the Old Dragon King to whom he boasts of his prowess and requests a weapon to equal his ability. The King gives him the magical iron rod, which can change from the size of a needle to the size of a mountain, and is so powerful it holds down the ocean floor.

Monkey travels to Heaven to demand recognition of his power, and gate crashes a birthday party for the Queen Mother of Heaven. Incensed that he was not invited along with gods and sages, he wreaks havoc - eating all of the heavenly peaches, each of which takes 9000 years to ripen and bestows an extra thousand years of life. He fights with all of the gods and sages, winning every battle, and proclaims himself a Great Sage Equal to Heaven. The Queen Mother of Heaven eventually pleads with the Great Buddha to step in to get the Monkey King under control. Monkey is imprisoned under the palm of Buddha.

Five hundred years later, the Buddha sends the goddess Guan Yin to find a believer to journey to India to bring the Holy Scriptures to China. She chooses Hsuang-tsang, a handsome, devout Buddhist monk and gives him the name Tripitaka after the Scriptures themselves. Guan Yin enlists Monkey to protect Tripitaka and they embark on their journey, finding Pigsy and Sandy on their way and offering them the chance of redemption in return for their service. They encounter many adventures and obstacles on their Journey to the West.

The text, which alternates between spoken word and song is delivered entirely in Mandarin, the inclusion of subtitles which are hard to read due to the heads of the people in front, help only a little. Surtitles wouldn't have worked here either, since the theatre has a huge amount of restricted-view seating. That aside the story is easy to follow, and it is often the case in opera, even those sung in English, that you cannot hear the words.

The sound-world is exotic and far from conventional. The orchestra consists of some western instruments - 2 violins, cello, trumpet, trombones, tuba and percussion - as well as instruments from China such as the Pipa, Zhongruan and Zheng, which are all string instruments. Damon Albarn also includes a substantial amount of electronics, including an Ondes Martenot (as used extensively by Jonny Greenwood), and keyboards. Also in the pit are 9 singers who contribute to the overall sound, often wordlessly. All of the music is amplified too, which adds a further dimension to the sound. The entire opera is held together by the young conductor André de Ridder, who can be seen cueing the singers on stage - often whilst they are suspended mid-air, mid-flight and mid-fight.

The music is a mixture of Ennio Morricone (particularly Farewell to Cheyenne, from Once Upon a Time in the West), Philip Glass (circa Koyaanisqatsi), and Tibetan Buddhist chant. Albarn manages also to avoid writing music that sounds Chinese, whilst simultaneously doing exactly that. His gift for melody and riff-making are also pleasingly evident here.

Taken as a whole, then, this opera does what opera should do at its best - it entirely captivates for the duration of the show. I was completely caught up in the story, the music, the animation and the action on stage. I couldn't help thinking though, whether this opera was successful because of the huge spectacle, and if the lavish production was stripped away it would be as impressive. It is certainly as big a production as those found at the Met in New York, or the Royal Opera House at Covent Garden.

Rumour has it that the production will be transferred to London at some point. It moves to the Théâtre du Chatelet in Paris from late September. I saw cinematographer Christopher Doyle after the show, perhaps he will be making a DVD of this run. Definitely worth seeing.

#Music
#Gig
#cnrth

5th Jul 2007 - 6 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Bonde Do Role

Bonde Do Role With Lasers

Domino

Describing Bonde Do Role is tricky.  Theirs’ is a brand of ‘baile funk’, originating from Brazilian ghettos as espoused by current indie darlings CSS.  Describing ‘baile funk’ is also tricky.  Perhaps it is easier to utilise the words of Pedro D'eyrot, one of Bonde Do Role’s MCs.  He explains that ‘baile funk is “like hip hop gone punk.  We have a word for it in Portuguese which is ‘rebola’ and it means dancing with your hips.  Basically, it’s booty music with people screaming over it and lots of energy.”  That’s about it, and very catchy it is too.
 
‘With Lasers’ is an album influenced by a list of genres as long as your arm.  D’eyrot says that it is like ‘digging through the garbage in Brazil and using the pieces to make a club mess’.  By my reckoning this must mean that the bins in Brazil do not just contain household waste and beer cans but a myriad of different vibrant sounds.  There are pre-grunge guitar riffs, beloved of air guitarists Bill and Ted, galore.  There are chants that remind me of primary school skipping games the girls used to play.  Mix these in with rhythms that could shake Brazilian football stadiums and beats that shake the bootys of Carnival dancers.  Throw in some samples lifted from obscure Latin American cartoons and sound effects resurrected from some long forgotten Super NES or Sega Megadrive games.  Amongst all this supposed garbage will also be found synth loops associated with provincial German discos circa 1987, Portuguese cheerleading and some primitive rapping.  It’s a hell of a mixture which leaves quite a cluttered sound.  Clutter can be bad buts it’s more akin to a second hand shop full of gems rather than the contents of a Granny’s house clearance.
 
The whole mixture is held together by the MCing which is of the primitive variety reminiscent of the 80’s when everyone from Blondie to John Barnes tried their hand at rapping.  The fact that it is delivered in Portuguese gives it an exotic and beguiling air which the lyrics may not warrant.  The female MC sounds a bit like Black Eyed Fergie but as she’s singing in a foreign language I’m not quite put off by her rhymes which could just be about London Bridges and Lady Lumps for all I know.  When she throws in a few grunts, groans and sex noises here and there it all becomes more alluring than inane.
 
All in all Bonde do Role’s debut album does have something of a disposable feel to it – much like the contents of a Brazilian bin no doubt – but like a cheap toy its fun for now.  The album is full of infectious energy and insistent beats that’ll get you in the mood for dancing with your hips.  Sophisticated it is not but then who cares?  Pedro D’eyrot doesn’t.   “For us it's all about the fun, and if it's not fun it's not worth doing. People can think whatever they like about us, but I'd like them to listen to Bonde Do Role in 10-15 years' time and laugh their asses off.”  He’s probably right, we probably will laugh in 15 months let alone 15 years.  But for now I hazard a guess they’d be worth seeing live and you might just well play this at every party you host this summer, shaking your booty with people screaming over the top.

#Music
#Muxloe

28th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Pissed Jeans

Hope For Men

Sub Pop

Pissed Jeans is the bare chested alter ego of white collar worker Matt Korvette, who sheds the skin of his day job in Allentown (known to me only through the Billy Joel track I'm afraid) and strips off to the waist to lead his band through sweaty all-ages punk shows.

With this second album, the band have been signed up to Sub Pop - and you probably couldn't imagine a better home (er, except maybe SST or Dischord). In these days of Zach Braff co-opting the Sub Pop rosta for his feel-good movies, it's good to hear a band throwing down the kind of sludge rock sound that got the label started.

People Person could not be a more ironic title for the album opener - a relatively fast punk number that has a similar effect to being mugged. With the brutal vocal force of Black Flag-era Rollins, vocalist Matt Korvette's lyrics are hard to pin down for sure, but it's either "I am a people person", or "I'm not a people person". I'm guessing it's the latter as Pissed Jeans are definitely not here to be your friend, but if you relax and go with the flow you might just have some fun.

The album generally works at a slower, pounding pace than the opener - whether its the heavy swing of A Bad Wind or the feedback drenched atmosphere of The Jogger. Things almost seem like they might break-out of the weight of this album on the amusing anecdote I’ve Still Got You (Ice Cream) or drum led Caught Licking Leather, but fear not. Much less post-modern sounding than recent punk-sludge from the likes of The Bronx, this is coming from the genuine roots of lifelong garage banders - who are clearly fans of Black Flag or sick-coloured vinyl specialists Flipper.

If you can withstand the bettering your ears will take, you will see through the wall of noise and expose the story-telling side of this album, stretching out tales of white collar workers in the "Straight World". It's a tall order that will certainly not be to many people's tastes - but for many pre-Nirvana post-punkers it will be a breath of fresh air.

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#CSF

11th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

New Young Pony Club

Fantastic Playroom

Modular

The sickly cocktail of spiky electro-pop being all too rampant on the air waves recently and this bands repeated adornment of NME covers not to mention their multi remixed advert friendly singles hasn't done these London newcomers any favors in my narrow-minded over 30 opinion but it's a good job I actually listen to some these records before attempting to review them as this debut is rather good. They may be wet behind the ears and tick all the right fashion boxes but Fantastic Playroom shows a surprising oblivion to all this.

Kicking off with gangly guitars and oozing with bass Get Lucky introduces this bands sound wonderfully.Tahita Bulmer's slightly out of tune vocal style is strangely reminiscent of Seelenluft's surprise hit Manila and backed with their blend of booming beats and percussion driven texture, seen most notably on Hiding On The Staircase, Fantastic Playroom welcomes in fond memories of the much missed Luscious Jackson.

Anyone who's switched on a tv recently will be all too familiar with this bands leading track Ice Cream. But don't let the fact that it features on an Intel advert put you off this pitch perfect piece of electro pop. In fact you probably saw the advert and made a mental note to source out this sound that was forcing your toes to tap against their anti-capitalist will, because very occasionally advert tunes are picked for their clear-cut ability to captivate an audience rather than their tendency to barge into your head uninvited and set up camp indefinitely.

Their intention is quite clear throughout this album and for the most part their desire to create no-frills danceable pop tunes works perfectly. There is very little pretension here, the lyrics are intelligent yet simple, the beats are deep and crystal clear and all the surrounding synths and effects make the whole thing utterly absorbing and very hard to resist. Grey's admission "It's alright, as long as it's black or white," goes some way to describe the simplicity of this sound but as the last notes of the fantastic closer Tight Fight ring out you can almost hear the Queen Of Pop herself illuminate a light bulb above her head having found the sound to her next album.

#Music
#BC

6th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Black Milk

Popular Demand

Fat Beats

Though 2005 saw Black Milk release Sounds Of The City he then signed to Fat Beats, making Popular Demand his official debut. Recalling the late, great J Dilla in its looped soul melodies and hollow beats, Popular Demand signals a welcome return to grass roots hip hop. Featuring a whole host of local Detroit heavyweights from Slum Village to Guilty Simpson, producer/MC Curtis Cross has delivered an intelligent record with tight beats and easy-flow rhymes.

After a slow start with the title track, Sound The Alarm is an early highlight with its slow crunching beat and reverberating baseline. Guilty Simpson's deadly serious delivery bumps hard alongside Black Milk's layered production which loops perfectly around the beat. The tempo is stepped up for the next track Insane, a jumped-up, intricately constructed beat that backs up Black Milk's effortless flow.

Popular Demand is a well paced ride with frequent instrumental interludes like the expertly crafted, sample heavy Play The Keys and slower rhymed cuts like the soulful Three+Sum allowing welcome relief from the big beats of tracks like the album highlight Watch 'Em. Here Que Diesel and Fat Ray create a glorious piece of hip hop fitting each rhyme into the rolling, hand-clapped beat with its stop/start confidence that just keeps on bumpin.

There has been much talk about this young talent filling the shoes of fellow Detroit mastermind Dilla and this album shows him more than capable of carrying this mantle. In fact Cross seems more comfortable in front of the mic than Dilla did sculpting his production perfectly to fit his rhyming style. Following in the footsteps of bigwigs like Jay Z or Kanye West and younger MC's like Lupe Fiasco Black Milk is the real deal and this record continues Detroit's underground hip hop pedigree.

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#HHG

30th May 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

DJ Food & DK

Now, Listen Again

Ninja Tune

Every generation boasts that music was better "in their day," that it meant more, had more depth - but of course this can't possibly be the case. It's not the music that changes, but the listeners. We go through certain stages in our life where music means more to us and changes us. Unfortunately if my theory is correct then there is a multitude of people out there of an impressionable age that are being profoundly changed by the Kaiser Chiefs - but that's fine, they'll grow out of it.

I can count a few periods in my life when this has happened. Most of these happened when I was a teenager and blissfully unaware of any larger musical implications that were occurring, I was just listening to the music and relating to it. But the most recent example of this occurred during 1994 - 1997 and centered round a few record labels and one club in particular - The Blue Note in Hoxton Square. Drum & Bass was a mere child then, as too was the genre formerly known as "Trip Hop" (thank christ). During Goldie's Metalheadz Sunday night sessions and the Ninja Tune Stealth parties I really felt part of something important, that the music that was being played was particular to this time, to this club and to these people. You felt like you were present at the birth of a genre. The excitement in that club at that time was truly memorable and though all artists and labels concerned are still making great music today that feeling for me has never been replicated or matched and nor should it.

Until that is, I heard Solid Steel's latest mix tape by the legendary DJ Food & DK. In 2001 Solid Steel's front-men DJ Food (Strictly Kev, PC) and DK (Darren Knot) kicked off this compilation series with the awesome Now, Listen and it's been going strong ever since with mixes from Amon Tobin, Mr. Scruff and The Herbaliser. Now, Listen recaptured the electrifying creativity of Coldcut's now legendary Journeys By DJ mix from 1995 and this follow up strives to do the same. I'm not sure how anyone can get close to the brilliance of Coldcut's mix, but with this compilation the feeling has been renewed and updated. The important thing about these and all great mix-tapes is their eclecticism and the inability to plot their course.

Now, Listen Again is a mash-up masterclass. Things kick off with the sample "Listen, that's the sound of ground being broken, it will sound familiar" and though this may not be groundbreaking music it's the familiar sound of the ground they broke a decade ago and it still sounds fantastic. Early on we get a brilliant fusion of Eric B & Rakim and The Human League's Being Boiled and move through Ram Jam's Black Betty, Primal Scream, Aphex Twin via a masterful megamix of DJ Shadow's back catalogue that blends effortlessly into the original Organ Donor sample of Giorgio Moroder's Tears. The obvious high point on this mix is the introduction of New Order's dub mix of Blue Monday, The Beach, out of The Irresistible Force and into the dirty 2 step beat of Big Dada's Part 2 featuring Fallacy.

Now, Listen Again doesn't have the dizzy peaks of it's predecessor but is a much more even mix and over-all is a more satisfying listen. The refreshing thing about this compilation is it's willingness to take the cheesy route. As we are guided through old-school hip hop, Drum & Bass and sun-soaked soul we see tones of well disguised rarities, but also glorious amounts of well trodden crowd pleasers. Enough water has flowed under the bridge for these mash-up veterans to simply enjoy their art and this is the sound of them doing just that. Since the demise of The Blue Note, Solid Steel's exit from BBC Radio and the suffocating fad of mash-up mania the mix tape has never sounded so good as it does here. It has re-ignited the spirit of the mid 90's with a wonderful blend of honest nostalgia and forward thinking optimism and was indeed "Food For My Soul."

#Music
#BC

2nd Apr 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Autokat

Late Night Shopping

Where these boys come from, which is Manchester, late night shopping = burglery, not a thursday evening in Harvey Nicks so this should put their debut album into some context. It's a raw piece of home made post rock that deals with the usual themes of urban city life in all its grime and glory. Signed to Manchester's influential Akoustik Anarkhy label, Autokat follow in the footsteps of bands like The Longcut and Nine Black Alps, but have more in common with bands like Warlocks or Chimpomatic favorites Working For A Nuclear Free City.

Opening track Shot sets a fair pace as its chiming guitar slowly turns into an awesome grinding riff that lays down a spiky platform for the vocals. The song eventually disappears off into a great slush of prickly guitar noise that turns this forthcoming single into a very grand opening statement. Seven Years is a much cleaner sound with more pronounced vocals while Dealy is the first of two well placed instrumental tracks that really give this album breathing space. Innocence really gets you to your feet after the rather lazy Bowling with its pure Gang Of Four beat, jangly guitars and upbeat muscle. Along with Shot it's one of the joys of this record that unfortunately is too few and far between.

Late Night Shopping can be patchy at times and the grit of the harder tracks is not always upheld throughout the album but it has a brilliantly fresh mix of melody and darkness. It can be sinister but can also lift you out of its threatening grasp with great floaty pop. Like fellow Mancs Working For A Nuclear Free City, this debut changes tempo so frequently and with such ease that the result is a record that's so packed with ideas and possible avenues for future pursuit and at the risk of sounding like a school report, this band oozes potential and though not all of it has been realised with this record it makes for a rosy look at the road ahead.

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21st Feb 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Hours

Narcissus Road

The Hours is the brainchild of Martin Slattery and Antony Genn - veterans of various bands and production credits from Unkle to Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros. Slattery's keyboard work for the likes of Black Grape is an instant reference on the album, which begins well with a tense opening piano beat that threatens to explode but never does. This is the structure of much of the album and it really works. Antony Genn's vocals are intense and urgent and come at you with an Interpol-like might. These are epic songs and this is totally down to a great use of restraint. The rarely let go and so retain the tension throughout the album.

Lyrically it's a mixed bag. All In The Jungle repeats the excellent line "The greatest comeback since Lazarus" and builds up a nice boxing story with Ali fight samples over the end, but then a few tracks later you get this..."I love you more than all my hooded tops, I love you more than Tony Soprano and for those who don't know me that's a fuck of a lot." The song has the same tension as the other songs but the lyrics are laughable. They seem to be tongue in cheek but are sung with such seriousness. I mean who doesn't love Mr. Soprano and every now and again I could be seen in a hooded top but I wouldn't use them to declare my undying love for someone. Unfortunately this song undermines things and makes for the rest of the album difficult listening - emphasised later on with a dose of fucking swearing. I like a dose of Explicit Lyrics as much of the next time, but it's so unnecessary here that it just seems trite in the context of these often operatic storylines. It's like sitting through a family gathering when your 90 year old granddad could come out with anything at any time and you're just waiting for it.

The slow jams like Icarus don't work as well as the others. They fall into the Coldplay/Snow Patrol grey area and are left behind by the strength of their pent-up counterparts. Murder Or Suicide disappears off into a fantastic piano based instrumental pounding session which really hammers home the fact that the piano is definitely man of the match here.

This is a debut with more than its fair share of promise but it seems far too aware of itself. It's too literal and sometimes takes itself way too seriously. It's no surprise that Jarvis Cocker is a fan of these guys as storytelling third-person lyrics are his forte but The Hours don't have the kitchen sink wit that made Cocker's work so original.

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#NM

9th Feb 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Arcade Fire

Neon Bible

Rough Trade

In 2005 the Arcade Fire gave us Funeral - and with it music was exciting again. No sooner had the music industry heard all 10 songs that it set about desperately trying to find the next source of this feeling. The well timed release of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah saw that band ride this wave with another stunningly exciting debut. So it's 2 years on and Clap Your Hands got in there first with their reply, so what of Neon Bible? Is this a one trick pony? Well, what do you do after such a powerful debut? As we are seeing with Some Loud Thunder, the answer is to play it cool and take it all down a notch. No such idea ever crossed the mind of Win Butler and co. when making Neon Bible. The agenda is clear here, take everything great about Funeral and times it by ten - reveal the iceberg. It's the sound of a band who know full well that they make big music. The best word to describe Neon Bible is massive. If you intend to listen to this album you will need to brush up on 'The Platoon Position', as mid way through the opening track Black Mirror you'll find yourself in need of a suitable body position to justify such grandiosity. It's triumphant music which is surprising considering all the previous themes of death, resentment and wasted life are at its heart and the inclusion of war and the demise of America it's thematically pretty bleak. Musically and stylistically it hasn't changed much from Funeral although it seems quite obvious that someone's been listening to Bruce Springsteen. So with the immortal words of The Boss "Just wrap your legs round these velvet ribs and strap your hands across my engines,"  I will begin with what will undoubtedly become a tired and over-used driving/cars metaphor to describe this album.

If the opening track with its rumble of thunder and deep, pounding drums is akin to the feeling of getting behind the wheel of a high performance vehicle then Keep The Car Running is the point where you come over the brow of a hill and see the open road ahead. The delicate guitar strum at the start hints at the pace ahead and makes your heart flutter with impending excitement.

Title track Neon Bible is the early stop at the service station to refuel when all women and children hear the words they dread. "Get what you need cos we're not stopping again." And with Intervention we are most certainly back at full speed. It's the grandest song on the album, shit it's the fucking grandest song this side of God Save The Queen (National Anthem not Sex Pistols.) Anyone frowning at my use of cuss words will see that they certainly are justified. Starting with a chapel organ the size of St Pauls Cathedral if every hair on your body doesn't stand on end consider yourself paralyzed. I don't know how this song will be played live as no building with a roof could possibly contain it.

Black Wave is pure Blondie with it's sublime melodies courtesy of Regine Chassagne, who until now has been the power house behind the backing vocals. Ocean Of Noise brings things down a notch with it's washes of strings and soft vocals but the driver of this car wasn't joking when he said we wouldn't be stopping again. This was merely a momentary drop in intensity before the full mariachi band bring this song to a glorious close.

The Well And The Lighthouse comes in with rapid pounding drums and Butler's frenzied vocals forever building and with Antichrist Television Blues The Boss really comes to the forefront. With it's strumming acoustic structure, passion fueled tales of working for the minimum wage and unstoppable tempo this would make Bruce wish he'd written it. As do many of these songs this one builds and builds to such tremendous heights then suddenly stops and makes you think that had it not stopped so suddenly you could very easily have shit yourself with joy. Windowsill is more of a slow builder but guess what, it lifts you up on yet another earth shattering wave of sound and rings you out at the end.

The inclusion of No Cars Go is the only questionable element to this album. Having heard its original form on the early EP this feels like all too familiar territory and even though it's been working out since its first appearance its inclusion here still feels a bit unnecessary.

Things are brought to an exhaustive close with My Body Is A Cage and please welcome back on to the stage, the huge fucking chapel organ. "My body is a cage that keeps me from dancing with the one I love, but my mind holds the key," sings Butler "Set my body free." This song is the end of a movie, it's the unfeasible tracking-crane-shot that lifts from close proximity and keeps on lifting, encompassing everything, showing us the whole picture. And with it's climax your body drops from the Platoon Position and though all your senses try to stop you, you press play again.

So to put this tired metaphor to rest, this is an awesome journey that covers a lot of ground. It never hits traffic, it sometimes slows down for safety reasons while passing through small villages but never opts for monotonous motorway driving and always takes the scenic route.

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#BC

7th Feb 2007 - 6 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Pop Levi

The Return To Form Black Magick Party

Counter

Ninja Tune have always been a label full of surprises. It has stretched and flexed to accomodate the ever increasing and varied tastes of its creators, but with Pop Levi they seem to have met their match. So they created a spin-off label just for him and give us the debut offering The Return To Form Black Magick Party. Only an artist of shameless arrogance could describe their debut as a return to form - and that's exactly what we have here. Born in London, Pop laid his early musical roots in Liverpool then moved to LA in pursuit of the 'magick' that he sees at the very heart of great music. Making up one third of free-thinking, post rock trio and fellow Ninja's Super Numeri, then playing bass for Ladytron Pop decided to go it alone and released his first EP "Blue Honey" on Counter Records in September last year. Then hot on its heals he gives us this. Mark Bolan is an instant point of recognition in Pop's sound but throughout this album we see glimpses of Prince, Dylan, Hendrix and even Jack White. But as with all quality music these influences, don't in any way confuse the sound that Pop has crafted for himself. That sound isn't easily explained as it keeps on changing. There's a very hand crafted feel to it with layers of acoustic and electric guitars punctuating washes of percussion, but this all often fed through some sort of machine and the Pop Levi sound is churned out the other side.

From the opening single, 'Sugar Assault Me Now,' it's quite clear that this is the doorway to a world far removed from our own. A world of astral energy where reality and disbelief are suspended and anything is possible. The first two tracks get things started at break-neck speed with a cacophony of stabbing guitars, fuzzy bass and more than enough hand claps. Things are taken down a notch with '(A Style Called) Cryin' Chic' with its folk blues meanderings over textured percussion. 'Skip Ghetto' shows Pop's sensitive side with a beautiful dreamy, acoustic little number only to be bitch slapped once again by the most Bolan of songs 'Dollar Bill Rock'.

The whole album follows this up and down formation, painting a very rich picture of this mans talents. It's contemplative and at the same time immensely uplifting. It's relaxing and floaty then foot tappingly addictive. It can appear to be conforming to every current fashion then rejecting it all in an instant. 'The Return To Form's' listening experience is just as up and down. On the first few plays it is thrilling and refreshing but I have to admit that the constant use of repetition in the lyrics does give it an air of emptiness. But hey it's pop music and not every moment has to move you to tears. There are plenty of moving moments here but most of them are on a level totally their own. The album makes you move and it makes you want to tell people about it. It oozes so much arrogance and confidence that it can only have been conceived by an artist with a very unique outlook on making music. It was a wise move for Ninja Tune to create an environment for this man to shine - as he has a lot to say and if this debut is anything to go by he has a myriad of ways to say it.

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29th Jan 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Best of 2006

BC

Top 5 Albums of 2006

1. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah - Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
2. Joanna Newsom - Ys
3. The Diableros - You Can't Break The Strings In Our Olympic Hearts
4. Loney Dear - Sologne
5. Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Show Your Bones

Runners Up:
Sunset Rubdown - Shut Up I Am Dreaming
TV On The Radio - Return To Cookie Mountain
Howie Gelb - 'Sno Angel Like You
Grandaddy - Just Like The Fambly Cat
Clinic - Visitations


Top 5 Films

Little Miss Sunshine
The Departed
Capote
Casino Royale
Borat
Pan's Labyrinth


Biggest Disappointments (In order of disappointment)

DJ Shadow - The Outsider
Miami Vice
England Football
England Rugby
England Cricket
Thom Yorke - The Eraser


Top 5 Gigs

Radiohead - Hammersmith Apollo
Pearl Jam - Dublin
My Morning Jacket - Astoria
TV On The Radio - Koko
Morrissey - Alexandra Palace

#Music
#BC

20th Dec 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Best of 2006

c71

Tapes 'n Tapes - The Loon
Cat Power - The Greatest
Herbert - Scale
Midlake - The Trials of Van Occupanther (prob need to check this, like for another month or so)
Yacht Rock - (special mention?)
Outkast - Idlewild
The Early Years - The Early Years
CSS (maybe)
Bat For Lashes (maybe)
TV on the Radio - Return to Cookie Mountain

shall we do movies too?
Brick
The Departed
Pan's Labyrinth
The Squid and the Whale
Capote
Hidden
A Scanner Darkly

and tv?
er... Entourage
State Within

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#chimp71

20th Dec 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Dan Sartain

Join Dan Sartain

One Little Indian

This is the second full length from the Alabama based musician and at 24 Sartain has managed to create a timeless piece of work that oozes bitterness but is delivered with an upbeat confidence. Recorded partly with a mariachi band and partly with The White Stripes producer Liam Watson, Join Dan Sartain is a lighthearted and refreshingly honest example of one man doing what the hell he feels like.

The great success of this record lies in it's subtle air of defiance. The 15 songs here represent a polite two fingers up to just about everyone in Sartain's life. As the last notes of the closing track Love Is Black ring off you can imagine Dan Sartain, with the arrogance of a young Johnny Cash, throwing his guitar at the mixing desk and storming out of the building mumbling "fucking record that, see if I care." The music isn't at all aggressive and it's hard to pin down just where this defiance comes from, but the effortlessness with which Sartain delivers his short little ditties is a good place to start. The furious pace of the opening track Drama Queens set's Sartain's agenda from the outset. At one and a half minutes it's a tightly packed bundle of forked tongue bitterness and it hooks you in good and proper. And talking of tongues, Sartain's seems firmly in his cheek as he skips through many different genres from the dirty grunge of I Wanted It So to the spanish love song Besame Mucho, originally recorded by Elvis. The warmth of the mariachi accompaniment of Flight Of The Finch is contrasted nicely by the fierce musings of two of the albums highlights, Gun Vs Knife and Hangers On.

It's great to hear an album that obviously comes from a rich tapestry of sources and though many of them will instantly spring to mind they will be wiped clean just as quickly and the lasting impression will be be a work very much its own. The arrogance of the music is reflected in the title of the album and if this is Dan's raleigh call to join him then I for one am in. I say that but at the same time get the impression that you can pledge allegiance as much as you like but the final decision lies with Dan himself and after hearing this record I am left with the immortal words of Eddie Murphy ringing in my ears, "This is my house, if you don't like it, get the fuck out."

I like it, I like it.

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#BC

30th Nov 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Joanna Newsom

Ys

OK, you're going to have to bear with me on this review as I am breaking a strict rule of mine while writing it - and that rule is to never embark on a review until you know what the album is about. To mislead the hoards of readers we have on this site with knee-jerk opinions would be a dreadful misuse of responsibility. So from the outset I will be honest and admit that I haven't got a clue what the hell is going on on this second full length from the enigma that is Joanna Newsom. The reason I am not waiting until I do know more is that I get the impression that that day will never come, but as I have firmly made up my mind that this is a work of unrivaled genius I think that is justification enough to start the review.

Clocking in at just under an hour and boasting only 5 songs, the longest being almost 17 minutes, Ys certainly is a commitment. Starting this album is an experience akin to standing at the foot of a massive mountain. You know you want to climb it but the view from the bottom makes you question whether you have it in you and it's not until you've completed the first leg of the opening 12 minutes of Emily that you start to realise what an epic journey you have ahead of you but the view from there is so special that to reach the summit fills your heart with excitement and you push on. Those who do reach the top are rewarded in ways too profound to mention. Not only is there the sense of pride on having made it this far but the strange compulsion to go straight down to the bottom and do it all again is overwhelming.

So despite not knowing anything about the meaning of this work we have established that it's quite good and so can distract ourselves with some background facts concerning it's conception and production. It follows in the footsteps of 2004's critically acclaimed debut The Milk Eyed Mender and takes it's title from a mythical Breton city that was flooded as punishment for the decadence of its inhabitants. Newsom describes dreams she had after having written the record that the title had to have a Y and an S in it and should only be one syllable, after coming across a reference to this myth she knew that Ys, pronounced 'Ees', had to be her title. The album features a whole host of stars backstage. It is engineered by Steve Albini, produced by Jim O'Rourke and all but one song is given full orchestral arrangement by Van Dyke Parks, it also has the occasional backing vocal by boyfriend Bill 'Smog' Callahan. But it's Newsom herself that ultimately makes this record what it is. Her voice achieves a much more expansive range here going from booming depth to ear-piercing squeaks to a floating beauty that is simply heart melting. Her debut had her lumped in with the acid-folk of Devandra Banhart which in my opinion didn't do her any favors. This record will undoubtedly put an end to all that as its richness and awesome scope makes it near impossible to label. Comparisons to the work of Bjork and Kate Bush are valid only in terms of vision and shear single mindedness. As time moves on it will be impossible to guess when this album was made, it has a timeless quality and no references to modern times whatsoever. (I thought I found one on Emily when what I supposed was the lyric "The media writes just what causes the light and the media's how it's perceived," turned out to be "The meteorite's just what causes the light and the meteor's how its perceived.") You get immersed in the vivid descriptions of nature and stories that are told with such a beguiling use of language that you stop trying to follow their meaning and sit back content to let your heart dance in the warmth and ease with which these magical words tumble out. There is little point in going through the album song by song as this is a piece of work where each element has to be seen in the context of the whole. It's not just the length of the songs that makes them so daunting, they feature no standard chorus structure, there is virtually no let up in the flow of expertly pronounced poetry or free flowing harp and Park's orchestration sweeps you up and catapults you across his epic cinematic landscape and each song leaves you exhausted. But the profundity of this exhaustion comes from the honesty of the artist, none of this album seems contrived or pretentious. It's one of those rare moments of originality that is self made.

You can arm yourself with as many facts as you like about this album but none of them will help you on your journey, they will only weigh you down. Just as Luke bravely put away his mechanical means of navigation on his assault on The Death Star so must we turn off logical thought on our long trek towards the summit of Mount Newsom and let some other force guide us. To do this is the only way to reach the top and once there the view will be more spectacular than you could possibly imagine.

#Music
#BC

20th Nov 2006 - 6 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Joseph K

Entomology

Domino

As a lifelong lover of music, I can trace many of the roots of my musical influences back to the sleeve notes of 1987's Minutemen compilation Ballot Result. The liner notes contained a long list of thank you's to the bands that had inspired D. Boon and Mike Watt, including bands like Wire, Television, Richard ('Dick') Hell, Pop Group and so on - as well as non-punkers like John Fogerty and 'even' Black Sabbath.

If their career hadn't had the aborted start that it received, Joseph K may well have featured on that list and I could well have become a lifelong fan of their work. Formed in Edinburgh in the late 70's, Joseph K started their own imprint label, "Postcard", and set about recording a debut single - released as a double pack with fellow Scots 'Orange Juice'. The band went on to record an album's worth of material (entitled Sorry For Laughing), which was subsequently canned for sounding too polished. An actual album The Only Fun In Town emerged a few months later, at which point the band decided it had peaked and disbanded.

The band can be placed this side of Wire, with the sound evolving to file down the sharp edged punk of and take it off down the gentle slope towards the mid-eighties sound that would become the 'indie' scene - and in fact guitarist Malcolm Ross ended up in fellow scots band Aztec Camera.

Single Radio Drill Time start opens this compilation - which contains a handful of tracks from both albums, plus a few singles and a Peel Session. Radio Drill Time is a taught, dark minimalist punk number, with a thumping bass line that sets the pace. Final Request and Heads Watch have a fast paced edge that shows the bands New York influence of bands like Talking Heads, and tracks like Endless Soul have the distinct political British sound that would be so influential on later punkers like the Minutemen and Dinosaur Jr.

Some of aborted album does sound relatively slick next to the more abrasive later tracks, with synthy pop touches placing the tracks in a more specific time frame - but that's no bad thing. The actual track Sorry For Laughing did make the cut for release as a single and is the highlight of the disc - a perfect slice of pop-punk, reminiscent of some of some of Magazine's best moments.

Tracks from The Only Fun In Town strip the sound back to it's more basic elements, making for a more immediate punch that would send the mosh pit crazy. Fun 'n' Frenzy and Forever Drone are obvious examples - and that strong sound is continued through onto the 1981 Peel Sessions. The only comment would be that the band seem to stay in the same space (high tempo, with crisp guitars) most of the time, but if you're going to pick a spot and stay there it's as good as any.

'Nearly everyone ignored Joseph K, including ultimately themselves' reads the press release. A press release from Domino Records, who have rightly dusted off this mislaid treasure of a band and brought them back into the field of view. Hopefully it will get them some of the credit they deserve.

#Music
#CSF

15th Nov 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

TV On The Radio

Koko, Camden

I find it near impossible to sum up the sound of TV On The Radio and when I try to think of an equivalent in order to aid my description I find myself stumped. But one thing I did discover in the majestical surroundings of Camden's Koko was that with two and a half albums strong this Brooklyn 5-piece know exactly who they are and what they are doing.

With it's numerous balconies dripping in ornate decoration and rising skyward to a huge revolving glitterball, Koko is a venue like no other and the view from the stage must either thrill or daunt any band. The addictive thing about TV On The Radio is their grasp of restraint. Their sound is so complex and threatens to explode but rarely does so I was interested to discover how this style would cope with a venue such as this. Dirty Whirl, a highlight from the new album Return To Cookie Mountain crept in humbly with hushed atmospheric sampling and front man Tunde Adebimpe's sweet whistling. This built up slowly and then the band unleashed their sound. It was the sound of twenty men and it was awesome. Adebimpe is the lynch pin to the dazzling show TV On The Radio offer. His theatrical dancing, thorough exploration of the space around him and inexhaustible passion and energy is electrifying and like nothing I have seen before. And his voice, well damn that boy can sing. Often constructing beautiful harmonies with guitarist and vocalist Kyp Malone, Adebimpe's voice more than filled the hall.

The stage seemed cluttered with the various machines that make this sound so unique. The standard drums, guitars and vocals are all fed through samplers, loops and distortions to produce a wall of sound that is oozing with texture. As expected Wolf Like Me was an instant highlight. As the only drum heavy, rock-out tune on the album this is as close as this band come to a standard song, so for it to emerge crisp and triumphant from the murky bog of noise was a delight to which the hungry crowd responded accordingly. Earlier songs like Young Liars were treated to the same extended format with the music slowly fading away to leave Adebimpe's exposed vocals to bring it to a close.

Not all the songs worked with the live treatment and this is due to the intricate subtleties that are so important to their sound not to mention the obvious sound problems experienced by Kyp Malone. I Was A Lover opens the new album with such hollow beauty, but that was lost here. The dense texture that is crafted around this song simply swallowed up the vocals reducing them to just another element in this texture. But this was a minor complaint and was soon forgotten as a free standing bass drum was brought on to the stage to herald the start of Let The Devil In. This was pounded on by at least two other band members as the crowd were encouraged to sing along. Adebimpe opened the song with dulcet vocals only to produce a mega-phone which he proceeded to shriek into as more and more previously unnoticed musicians joined the stage beating a myriad of cymbals, drums, tamborines, you name it. The result was a near tribal stampede of sound that refused to stop. It built and built to epic proportions and launched this gig into memorable territory.

After the dazzling My Morning Jacket show in September I got to thinking, "What separates the good gigs from the great gigs?" I have seen many a great band showcase their back catalogue with expert precision but have often been left feeling slightly flat. These gigs were as good as their albums, but the great gigs go further and make you feel like you are witnessing something specific to this moment, something spontaneously crafted and bigger than the music. This is what was happening at Koko that night, a live event that would be lost in any other format. All too often I leave a very enjoyable gig but mentally tick that band as 'done', the opposite was the case here and as I emerged from my grand surroundings into a rainy night I hoped this would not be the last would see of TV On The Radio.

#Music
#Gig
#BC

13th Nov 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Pavement

Wowee Zowee: Sordid Sentinels Edition

Domino

The Pavement re-release juggernaut continues with their third album getting the treatment this month, now re-branded as Wowee Zowee: Sordid Sentinels Edition. Following in the steps of the exhaustive first two re-issues (Slanted and Enchanted: Luxe & Reduxe and Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain: LA's Desert Origins), Wowee Zowee has been expanded with a re-remastered version of the classic 1997 album, accompanied by an assortment of B-sides, demos and live tracks from the period.

After the relative radio-friendly hits of Crooked Rain, Wowee Zowee was a relative critial and commercial disappointment on it's release, and the band retreated for a two years before releasing a follow up. In retrospect it is quite possibly the best Pavement album, finding the near perfect balance of the wacky schizophrenia of their early albums with the crafted 24 track song writing of their later albums Brighten The Corners and Terror Twilight. We can only imagine what extended titles are in store for those two.

Eclecticism is the name of the game with Wowee Zowee, and literally handfuls of different styles are covered. From the beautiful opening acoustic chords of We Dance, the music hall sounds of Motion Suggests Itself, Spiral Stairs' trippy Western Homes, or just the straight-up greatness of Black Out, Father To A Sister Of Thought, AT&T or countless others, this is an album that's as hard to define as a collection of Ween rarities.

For all the variation however, this is an album that works superbly. The songs play off each other and make a cohesive, balanced whole - with the highlights enhanced by the lighter, fun numbers.

And so we move on to the bonus material. B-sides from the album's singles (Rattled By The Rush and Father To A Sister Of Thought) start things off, and the Pacific Trim EP is a genuine bonus - recorded to coincide with an Australian tour, this release features all 4 tracks of the Rare EP - including notable mentions for vinyl-only I Love Perth and lead track Give It A Day. A cover of the Descendents It's A Hectic World is disappointing, and rambling tracks like Soul Food serve to highlight Pavement's habit of wandering off into musical cul-de-sacs. A demo of We Dance overlooks the natural beauty of the track, highlighting instead Malkmus' tounge-in-cheek English accent for a song which theories have suggested was influenced - either as a homage or pastiche - by Malkmus' friendship with some of the original Brit Poppers, including Damon Albarn (clearly influenced by Pavement in the mid 90's) and Wire fan Justine Fleischman (a former member of Malkmus' current band The Jicks).

Deeper into disc two a handful of tracks recorded on that same Australian tour showcase the band at their best, with off-kilter humor peeling away to uncover musical magic - illustrated most clearly by Box Elder, which recovers from near disaster to highlight how great this track is - from the often overlooked Westing (By Musket & Sextet) compilation.

One thing this album does bring up is how these re-releases monsters perform as self-contained albums. Is there ever such a thing as too much? The original was always long (56 minutes and 18 songs) and it could be argued that it was already sprawling (check out the re-ordered version here) and it is certainly front loaded with the absolute best-of-the-best tracks. At 50 songs and 156 minutes this new edition certainly adds a lot more to that mix, leaving no doubt that the best comes first - as although there are certainly some gems in the bonus material they never equal the epic heights set by the first two handfuls of tracks off the original.

Should this review rate the album as a whole? Or the original album as a whole, with the disposable extra of 32 bonus tracks? As a devout Pavement fan I'd always choose to have more, but if I was trying to convert a rookie to their majesty this would certainly not be the place to start.

I'm going to plump for something in between on this one, as although it is one of my favourite albums, I'm speculating that it is unlikely I'll be flipping on disc two all that often. But with the age of playlists and compilations upon us Pavement have delivered an ideal gift: A classic album with a selection box on the side.

#Music
#CSF

7th Nov 2006 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead

So Divided

Interscope

...Or as CSF quipped 'You will know us by our really long name' and to be completely honest, that was all I really knew about them. Of course, I knew of them - a name like that doesn't erase quickly - but I mostly remember them for the one, very Sonic Youth-ish track; Mistakes and Regrets and the hectic video that went with it. After that, I mentally labelled them art/prog rock (ie. 'difficult') and filed them alongside the likes of The Mars Volta.

So, when the new album arrives and the first thing I hear is a church bell on Intro: A Song of Fire and Wine, it's a case of rolled eyes and "Here we go again!" But then track 2, Stand in Silence, bursts through the speakers and I apologise. This is one of the best tunes I've heard this year. Admittedly, I am a sucker for a meaty riff, and this one is a beauty, but to get from said riff, into a military type fanfare that wouldn't be out of place over the final scene of Top Gun and then back again: it's a tip of the hat to you guys (who we will know…)

The band then seem intent on keeping the listener guessing what is round each corner, so much so that So Divided could simply have taken it's title from the range of music within. Wasted State of Mind begins with Indian drums and ends with French Accordian, Naked Sun is a 70s blues rock/groove with rousing brass section. Gold Heart Mountain Top Queen Directory is a note perfect cover (if slightly slicker) from the mighty Guided By Voices album, Bee Thousand. Eight Day Hell is all joyously upbeat a la The Polyphonic Spree - who I find too saccharine, but in isolation one song works well here.

All this leaping around does indeed leave the record slightly divided and lacking in a clear vision. However, this can also work to it's advantage, as there is something for everyone here. All the songs are written with intelligence and performed with mucho passion so that, like the seasonal selection boxes soon to appear on supermarket shelf: you may well have your favourites (more track 2 please) but once in a while you can gorge on anything - and when the quality is this good you welcome the change.

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#chimpovich

6th Nov 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Dosh

The Lost Take

The road that Dosh has chosen or is destined to travel is well trodden and as a result can often be perilous. Instrumental hip hop sounds like a good idea but can often fall into the chill out trap and forever condemned to an eternity of middle class diner parties. Fortunately Martin Dosh skillfully avoids these pitfalls and his third full length for Anticon "The Lost Take" is easily his best yet - and actually has no right to be classed as hip hop.

Having started off playing drums in the avant-guard DIY outfit Fog, Dosh released his debut self titled album in 2003 followed by 2004's Pure Trash which featured assistance from Anticon heavy weights Doseone, Jel and Odd Nosdam. With The Lost Take the collaborations are just as frequent but of a different sort. Dosh has cleverly enlisted the help of a plethora of musicians from Fog's Jeremy Ylvisaker, Erik Appelwick from Tapes 'n Tapes and the wonderful violin of Andrew Bird. This is the key to the success of this record. Proficient on most instruments himself, Dosh has created a record that though predominantly drum based is a homage to the art of live orchestration. "Um, Circles And Squares" is the first instance of this dazzling love for music. Here, Bird's strings form a beautiful cushion for Dosh's rolling Rhodes sequences and drum beats. This prepares us for the album highlight of "A Ghosts Business". This could be a scene from a Disney cartoon about the nighttime goings on in a music shop. After the owner leaves the store, the instruments come alive and jam erratically to their hearts content expressing the unbridled freedom that an instrument would if it was locked up in a shop all it's life. As conductor, Dosh makes us think he's lost control of his orchestra - but expertly brings them into line with Prefuse 73 style cutting and pasting.

This track is very important to the album as a whole. Not only does it let us know what this man is capable of, but gives us a valuable insight into the intentions of The Lost Take. Every song after it seems to work better with this knowledge. By enlisting the help of such talents, Dosh creates a rich pallet from which to work his magic. Appelwick's crunching guitar chords give strength to the piano and drums of "MPLS Rock And Roll", making it a triumphant anthem - while his subtle finger picking weaves softly amongst the textural percussion contributing to the delicate warmth of "O Mexico".

I imagine each of the twelve tracks on The Lost Take as an intrepid group of explorers in the old Tarzan movies bravely making their way through the jungle. Comprised predominantly of toffee-nosed British aristocrats and their native bag carriers, they negotiate the perilous mountain path known as "Chill-Out Pass". To lose your footing here would mean plummeting into the raging crocodile infested waters of Hoxton-quiff-sporting-Foxton's employees, hungry to get their soft hands on the next soundtrack to their upcoming Thai fusion themed dinner party. Sadly, not everyone here makes it to safety. "Everybody Cheer Up Song" and the closing sax horror of "The Lost Take" only lose their footing for a second, but that's all it takes on this journey to fall to the depths of mediocrity. But everyone else bravely push on to the other side. Once there, they find the going slightly easier, as a path of sorts has already been forged by people like Four Tet and Prefuse 73, but armed with the brave pioneering Anticon spirit the remaining members of The Lost Take form their own roads through this wilderness to discover new and rich pastures. One would hope that after showing such courage Dosh won't rest on these green and plentiful lands but will strive on to higher ground.

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3rd Nov 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Cadence Weapon

Breaking Kayfabe

Upper Class Recordings

Imagine if you can: it's the year 2040 and the music scene is in a state of crisis. RnB rules the charts and is all that's allowed to be played on the radio. Since the earliy naughties the hip hop section of the record store became known as 'Urban' and most rap albums had to incorporate some form of RnB just to make sales. Artists such as Common and Kanye West who were targeted by the RnB militia to spread this evil seed in the hip hop community eventually buckled under the pressure and stopped recording altogether. Rumor has it that Common was set to release an album called Strictly Hip Hop but it never saw the light of day due to death threats to his family. So the genre formerly known as Hip Hop disappeared from the public's view completely. But an underground resistance refused to die out and continued to filter quality beats to those in need. There was a great war and the resistance was nearly quashed so in order to put an end to this they developed a group of cyborgs known as The Anti Pop Consortium and sent them back to the year 1985. Their mission was to kill a little boy called Craig David who would go on to popularize RnB in Europe. The mission was accomplished but unfortunately made absolutely no difference to the future at all. The resistance analyzed the growth of RnB and noticed that instead of it being attributed to the evil of one person it was born out of the apathy and boredom of the world at large. So a new plan was formed and a new cyborg crafted, better, stronger, faster. His name was Cadence Weapon.

Canada was selected as the best place to start this attack as the glare of the RnB Eye was firmly focused on America and Britain. Sent back to the year 2005 he unleashed his first wave of destruction, a devastating mixtape called Cadence Weapon Is The Black Hand and then so as not to give the RnB militia time to recover he hit them again in 2006 with Breaking Kayfabe, a collection of hip hop cuts so strong and so forceful that it sent shock waves throughout the world. Breaking Kayfabe (Kayfabe being the Resistance code for RnB scum) was designed using the original blue prints of The Anti Pop Consortium mission. The sound was hard and electronic so as to allow no fertile ground for the RnB 'Good Singing' germ to grow. This new model of machine was equipped with enough skills to become a one man army and the whole Breaking Kayfabe project was crafted by Cadence Weapon himself, from the sterile, impenetrable and chest-stomping beats to the venomous lyrics spat out with such force and machine-like precision.

For a while the enemy was crippled due to the force of this attack but they soon regrouped and retaliated with a double fist. Both Lamar and Usher released records of such dazzling vocal beauty that the world was gripped by their evil tales of perfect love making. Luckily Cadence Weapon's arrival was strong enough to wake many hip hop warriors, including Busta Rhymes and LL Cool J, from their RnB sleep and the war was won. RnB was forever kept under wraps being confined to young girls and those genuinely gifted at love making. There was a brief uprising in France but that was no biggy.

The facts: Cadence Weapon is 19, from Canada and this album is really, really good. Best bits: Oliver Square, Black Hand and 30 Seconds. There's no stopping this kid, it's what he does, it's all he does.

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1st Nov 2006 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Sebadoh

III

Who are Sebadoh? Well, Ill let them introduce themselves, courtesy of Showtape 91 the 11 minute spoken-word epic that closes side 2 of the re-issue of 'III', the aptly titled 3rd album, from this Massachusetts 3 piece.

Amongst other things, Sebadoh are:

- "Your new favourite dope-smoking renaissance threesome"
- "Your post modern folk-core saviours"
- "Featuring that guy who played bass in Soul Asylum, Lou Barlow"
- "3 more reasons to leave your boyfriend. Way to Go, Sebadoh!"

So there you have it; cynical, sarcastic, funny, confident and impossible to pigeonhole. Whilst III was their third album, it marked something of a starting point for the band. Previous albums The Freed Weed and Weed Foresting were self released cassettes that unashamedly wore (literally) their creative influence upon their sleeves. For III Lou Barlow and Eric Gaffney were joined by Jason Lowenstein, and whilst not compromising their taste for musical extremes, produced an album that heralded the introduction of 'lo-fi' in the midst of the Grunge Explosion.

Barlow, freshly liberated from a traumatic stint in Dinosaur Jr. (not Soul Asylum) used III as something of an exorcism, wasting no time in having a dig at J Mascis on track 1, The Freed Pig "You were right, I was battling you, trying to prove myself". From then on, the album takes the familiar shape and form of a typical Sebadoh album, ie. all over the place. Track 2 is a blistering cover of Minutemen's Sickle & Hammers, the heavily distorted bass (a signature sound) and blood curdling screams of Scars, Four Eyes is followed by the delicate Truly Great Thing "Make it easy and I'll hold it against you, Make it hard and I'll run away". Back to their herbal muse for Smoke a Bowl, a song which wouldnt be out of place on the Black Lodge Jukebox in Twin Peaks. How do you follow that? With the country hoe-down tinged Black Haired Gurl of course.

The album continues in this vein before closing with As The World Dies, The Eyes Of God Grow Bigger which captures the split personality of the band perfectly; acoustic singalong, followed by distorted screamalong, all ending with the cheery farewell "BLOOD ON THE WALLS, BLOOD ON THE WALLS." Hey, a trip with Sebadoh isn't ever easy, but you go to some interesting places along the way.

Disc 2 of this re-issue is immediately a winner, in that it includes the Gimme Indie Rock EP - the title track of which, is possibly the finest 3 and a half minutes this prolific band ever laid to tape. The rest of the extras all add to the whole; unreleased songs from the recording sessions, raw 4-track versions of old songs and the bizarre closer Showtape '91. At a hefty 41 tracks, the new 'III' might help solve that terminal puzzle: 'What to get the Sebadoh fan who has everything?'

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#chimpovich

25th Oct 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Bruce Springsteen

The Seeger Sessions: We Shall Overcome (American Land Edition)

Since making it big in 1975 with his third album Born To Run, Bruce Springsteen has had the artistic luxury of rarely releasing a record with the same sound as his last. The Seeger Sessions is no exception. A folk record, this is the first covers album The Boss has ever done. Based on the tracks recorded and popularised by Pete Seeger in the 40s, 50s and 60s the album was recorded with a large ensemble of musicians over two days, and as a result the album has a very live feel. Although this reviewer is not overly familiar with Pete Seeger's music, most tracks on this release have a familiar sound and feeling, as if perhaps we all used to sing them back in our school days.

Things kick off with the snappy and enticing banjo chords of Old Dan Tucker. This is one that would certainly get people to their feet at the hoe down. Springsteen's banjo and gravelly vocals sit perfectly alongside the bass and rythms of the big band. Next up is Jesse James the tale of Jesse James and his murder by The Coward Robert Ford. The band keep tempo with Springsteen's quick story telling developing into some saloon bar accordian.

The album moves on with much variation in tracks from the Seeger catalogue. Mrs McGrath tells the story of the mother of a son badly wounded during the civil war, their woes being spelt out with a strong fiddle accompanyment. O Mary Don't You Weep takes turns to faith and the story of Moses and Pharohs army drowning at the parting of the Red Sea. Pay Me My Money Down was sung by black ship workers when captains tried to slip out of harbour without paying them, and the title track We Shall Overcome reflects Springsteen's active criticism of the current US political regime as a famous song sung around the world in political protest for justice and equality.

This edition varies on the original April release with the addition of five extra tracks, the strongest of which Froggie Went A Courtin, and the excellent American Land, recorded live in front of a New York audience. However, all additional tracks are up to the quality of the original release and there is a sense that the back catalogue was there to produce many more tracks to this high standard.

This is not an album that you will play repeatedly, but like Springsteen's other more adventurous projects you will return to it again and again at times when something a little different is what's required.

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19th Oct 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Califone

Roots & Crowns

Eight years in and Chicago collective Califone are hitting their stride. After 2004's Heron King Blues, the band went on a brief hiatus - with band leader Tim Rutili moving out to California to work on film scores until repeated listening to Psychic TV's track Orchids prompted him to start writing again. That debt is acknowledged here with a sublime cover of the song, but let's start this review at the beginning.

Pink & Sour opens the album with a superb layered guitar sound that builds up with Rutili's hushed vocal's weaving in and out of the music like another instrument, before segueing perfectly into a near sing-a-long with Spider's House.

A history of touring with such bands as Smog, Sonic Youth and Wilco gives you some idea of where Califone are coming from and the album is often reminiscent of Loose Fur's self-titled debut album - never in a hurry and always enjoying itself, subtly building up and easing back. However, where that album could often be accused of being a side project, Roots & Crowns is always on-message. The delicate acoustics of Burned By The Christians sit comfortably next to the loops and sounds of Black Metal Valentine, or the crackling piano of Rose Petal Ear. Images of re-birth and evolution slowly creep through, creating a cohesive and focused vision.

Although it can sound both modern and subtly electronic in places, the album's over riding sound is the booming acoustics of layered guitars, low harmonies and organic, complex drum beats. With moments reminiscent of bands like Crosby, Stills and Nash, the album takes traditional sounds and brings them forcefully into the 21st century. While on the first few listens the album may seem slightly flat in places, with further and further repeat listening Califone's subtle sounds will echo round your mind, embedding themselves to be stirred and re-energized with repeat listening.

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18th Oct 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

J Dilla

The Shining

Jay Dee aka J Dilla is known as a producer's producer and was often compared to the likes of DJ Premier and Kanye West. He is a little known character in the Hip Hop world but was responsable for such master works as The Pharcyde's Running and De La Soul's Stakes Is High. His is a story of unrelenting dedication and a story who's end came far too soon - both for him and hip hop. He suffered from illness for many years, performing in a wheelchair towards the end of his career, and finally died just days after his 32nd birthday.

The Shining was the album he was working on when he died and just before the end he passed it on to fellow Detroit producer and long time friend Karriem Riggins. It is a mouthwatering line up featuring Common, Busta Rhymes and Madlib but despite this it is a very disjointed whole. This is to be expected considering the circumstances but when it's good it's great. It would be a crime to give some of these guys a whack beat and Dilla dutifully lays down a beauty for Common on E=MC2. Common is at his best when rhyming over hard and funky rhythms and that is what he gets here. At a glance the best cuts here are the "Love" songs. Love Jones is an all too short instrumental ditty from the man himself, Love featuring Pharoahe Monch is a classic soul groove, Jungle Love is a low down, dirty, beat driven grime-fest featuring MED and Guilty Simpson where we get the priceless line " I got hoe's like firemen." In an album that frequently sways into mushy RnB, Jungle Love has enough dick and hoe boasting to see us through. The last "Love" song is Black Thought's masterfull Love Movin'. The complex clicky beat is like nothing you've ever heard and it flows with the greatest of ease to the hard hitting vocals of The Roots front-man.

Unfortunately these moments are broken up by some less than perfect and often week cuts like the shocking collaboration between Common and D'Angelo and Busta Rhymes' testosterone filled opener that sounds more like a Richard Prior sketch. It's not enough to ruin this great artist's final work, however it does suggest, annoyingly so, what The Shining could have been if Dilla had been allowed to see it through.

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18th Oct 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Lemonheads

The Lemonheads

I thought I'd misread the details on this album. Seminal 90's under achiever Evan Dando is back with a new Lemonheads album, backed by Bill Stevenson and Karl Alverez of my 80's Santa Cruz-skate-favourites Decendents/ALL. A potential dream come true.

With a slow intro quickly being upgraded to breakneck punk pop, we're off to a great start on Black Gown, and with no time to waste between songs we roll straight into Become The Enemy and the album is already bearing all the hallmarks of it's main contributors.

While the album certainly starts off great, and never really fails, unfortunately both Evan Dando and Bill Stevenson can be a little methodical with their song writing and combining the two of them just highlights that in places. Dando never seems to know when to stop rhyming, and the lyrics/guitar blast/lyrics/guitar blast style of ALL often raises it's (non too ugly) head, which although not that common is strangely predictable.

Although most songs feature these hallmark sounds somewhere, they usually move on to something else. For example Poughkeepsie starts off very predictable, but as interest slides it stages a come-back turning off into new instrumental directions. The best moments on this album are when the songs veer of into just such unpredictable territory, such as on Let's Just Laugh, or current favourite Baby's Home - written by Aussie Tom Morgan of Smudge/Godstar.

There's further cameos galore, with The Band legend Garth Hudson playing keyboards on a couple of tracks, and J Mascis turning it up to 11 - most notably on No Backbone. Although Stevenson is only credited with writing two and a half tracks, the album often sounds almost like an ALL album with Dando singing. Stevenson's two solo credit tracks are both highlights (angsty older man tracks Become The Enemy and Steve's Boy) and the more punk-rooted support that Stevenson and Alvarez supply for Dando seem to give him a focus and urgency that he has previously often lacked. For 34 minutes of it at least.

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12th Oct 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Torchwood

Season One, Episode One

New Doctor Who spin-off series (oooh it's an anagram). Captain Jack Harkness (the American one who snogged the Doctor) is in charge of another one of those super top secret alien police organisations where everyone wears long trenchcoats and spends their time reverse-engineering alien technology and ordering pizza.

Feels similar to Who, with added swearing, which feels a bit pointless - it's not much more graphic than Who, and seems almost mean to make a spin-off that kids can't watch (or won't be supposed to). It's got the same sort of budget (ie not enough for large crowd scenes, so there's a bit in the pilot where a cop is trying to usher people away from a crime scene, but there's no-one to actually usher away, which is quite odd), and mines the Men In Black secret HQ idea, except it seems to be hidden under the Cardiff cultural centre. For some reason they keep having meetings on top of buildings, perhaps because they stretched the budget to include some helicopter shots.

It's not bad, and might build into something worthwhile, but it's hard not to feel like we've seen all this done much better w the X-Files, MIB, Dark Skies etc… That said, would rather see BBC3 making this than another series of A Packet Of Crisps, or Dogtown…

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#chimp71

10th Oct 2006 - 130 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Jason Molina

Let Me Go, Let Me Go, Let Me Go

Secretly Canadian

Since 1996 Jason Molina has been delivering his sparse tales of woe in various forms from Songs: Ohia to Magnolia Electric Co. he has done collaboration albums with artists such as Alistair Roberts and My Morning Jacket and more recently has begun trading under his own name. Let Me Go, Let Me Go, Let Me Go is his second full length and his best yet.

Molina opens his album with a song entitled It's Easier Now. This sends a shudder down my spine at the thought of what it was like, as Let Me Go is as bleak as it gets. But if anyone can do bleak it's Molina. The whole album sounds like a last gasp cry for release as expressed in the title through to the final note of this trickling 34-minute slope into blackness. We get bombarded with albums with the same agenda as this all the time, but most of them are a struggle to get through and the only thing that moves quickly is your emotional shift from interest to boredom. This is far from the case here. Molina has an absolutely captivating voice and coupled with the impeccable production his words chime with crystal clarity that keeps you listening and hanging on his every devastating word. Though he rarely rises above a whimper his voice has a dormant strength that threatens to roar.

All of this, and his ability to write lyrics that break your heart faster than a Live Aid appeal interlude, make this a powerfully empty experience. In Alone With The Owl, he asks "while I lived was I a stray black dog, while I lived was I anything at all?" then describes the stagnancy of his life as he "stood beside the ocean not a single wave." But it's on Get Out, Get Out that he really shows his poetic skill with the achingly sad line "I live low enough that the moon wouldn't waste its light on me, what's left in this life that would do the same for me?"

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7th Oct 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Black Keys

Le Trabendo, Paris

October 5th 2006

In a postmodern world where everyone sounds like someone else, The Black Keys are pretty easy to pigeonhole. Sitting somewhere between The White Stripes and Wolfmother, they take heavy blues and run with it. And thats about it. "I woke up this morning" nah, nah, nah, "Tied up my shoes" nah, nah, nah. They don't have the inventiveness of The White Stripes to make only being a two piece their selling point, and they don't have the punishing power and speed change fun of Wolfmother - preferring the slower heavier, sound.

None the less, it was an entertaining show. Although there is little variation between their songs, and there was little stage chat or interruption, that one hour long smoky-blues-jam that they played was a good one. They obviously love what they are doing, and they do it well. There was power and passion and the venue was electric with the enthusiastic, well behaved, civilized Parisian crowd. Hats off to opening band and Black Mountain side project Blood Meridian too. They warmed things up nicely with their own band of bluesy rock ...and they spoke a bit of French.

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#CSF

6th Oct 2006 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Bronx

The Bronx (II)

You might have missed The Bronx (I), but 'they're back' with this self-titled second album. This isn't Led Zeppelin II however, or even Tindersticks II. The Bronx are a strange mix, falling between Guns 'n Roses (Gilby Clarke produced their early recordings) and the Rollins Band (or even Annihilate This Week era Black Flag), but strangely seeming almost like Pavement - certainly in terms of their excellent video History Strangler's. That's a lot of links, commas and brackets, but this is a band that's hard to define.

The credibility supplied by not actually looking like Gwar gave a me a reason to persevere, and I like this band a lot. They know how to rock and they know how to play it loud. Senor Hombre sets the scene with some mystical hokus pokus before we're off into the meat of the album. Shitty Future is an awesome rolling track, and History's Strangler's is equal to the task. Things mellow out a bit with Dirty Leaves, which has a much more bluesy sound - letting you see some of the influences that the band must have. It dips a bit after that with some questionable morality tales (Rape Zombie, Three Dead Sisters) that must have some point, but towards the the end it's back to firing on all cylinders and you get more of what this band is good at - playing loud in your car or at home while your girlfriend (or parents) are out.

Turn it up to 11.

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22nd Sep 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Black Dahlia

(dir. Brian De Palma)

Brian De Palma's adaptation of James Elroy's 1987 novel was a hotly anticipated affair. The story of the infamous and brutal murder of 22 year old aspiring actress, Elizabeth Short, was dubbed 'unfilmable' in 1947 - and remains so after this appalling waste of time.

The film follows two tough cops on the hunt for the killer responsible for a crime that rocked Hollywood at the time, mainly due to the gruesome state the victim was found in. Cut in half, disembowelled and sliced from the mouth to both ears, Short's murder attracted a media frenzy. In response, the police department put their most celebrated cops on the case. Nicknamed Mr. Fire and Mr. Ice after their successful careers as boxers, these two soon find the public spotlight brings with it unbearable pressure from every angle to see this case through to a conviction. Lee Blanchard (Aaron Eckhart), the gung-ho half of the duo, becomes strangely consumed by the case - much to the worry of his troubled wife … played here by Scarlett Johansson, His partner, Dwight "Bucky" Bleichert (Josh Harnett), assumes the role of the younger, naive cop who isn't fazed by the celebrity status, but just wants to see his idealistic view of justice done.

I would be here all day if I tried to divulge how the plot progresses from here and to be honest I'm not too sure myself. The story is packed full of subplot upon subplot to the point of utter confusion. Elroy's previous screen adaptation L.A. Confidential is just as complicated, but it is written and acted with such skill that you really engage with the characters and try hard to follow them through the complex web of double-crosses and deceit. The opposite is the case here - as the acting is amateur, with each performance rarely rising above a stereotype depiction of 40's film noir cop movies. To be honest I never expected much from Hartnett but I had imagined that the presence of Oscar Winner Hilary Swank would inject a touch of quality to the proceedings, but unfortunately not. To describe Johansson's performance as wooden would be an insult to Pinocchio. The only exception here is Mia Krishner's mesmerising scenes as Betty Short, seen in flash backs and found screen tests. She is dazzlingly beautiful and her deeply innocent and desperately sad eyes give you a clue as to why so many real life detectives became obsessed with this case.

The film as a whole is visually stunning, but style is never a wise substitute for content and despite the dazzling aesthetics De Palma fails to convince his audience of the depth and seriousness of his characters or the period in which they exist. In 1982 Steve Martin did a far better job in Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid and that was a spoof, not to mention Bugsy Malone.

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#BC

21st Sep 2006 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Blood On The Wall

Awesomer

Recently bands like Brakes and Blood On The Wall have opened the floodgates and made albums like department stores, there's something for everyone. They don't claim to specialise in anything but as a whole they create a record that reflects our current state of pluralism. This is the second full length from the New York trio and the pace and furious energy is maintained here as it was on their self-titled 2004 debut.

As their name may suggest Blood On The Wall don't create Gwar style death metal, instead Awesomer is a medley of furious punk, rolling indie-pop and ominous stoner rock. Vocal duties are shared between brother and sister duo Ben and Courtney Shanks and their styles couldn't be more different or more complimentary. Courtney delivers slow, brooding, breathy vocals not unlike the Cowboy Junkies while Brad takes the less subtle approach, screeching and wining like Frank Black's little brother.

Courtney's opener Stoner Jam is exactly what it claims to be until brother Brad comes in and scratches his nails down the blackboard of your ears with Reunite On Ice. You start to think how annoying this voice should be but it's not. Though Brad is certainly given the dirty work while Courtney is there to give the record weight she plays him at his own game on the dirty little number Can You Hear Me and Brad, not to be outdone, turns out some very listenable indie-pop gems like Right To Light Tonight and You Are A Mess. His finest moment is the short but sharp Gone, while she shines on Dead Edge Of Town.

Though it doesn't always work the eclectic nature of this band recalls early Beastie Boys, throwing in some truly pulverising punk interludes. If you chuck enough ideas around you are bound to end up with something exciting and that is what Awesomer is, it's one idea after another coming at you fast and with out care to the point where it seems so packed full that you find yourself amazed it only takes up 31 minutes of your time.

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14th Sep 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Mountain Goats

Get Lonely

Get lonely is exactly what you will do when you listen to John Darnielle's follow up to 2005's harrowing "The Sunset Tree". Anyone who has ever suffered a painful split from a loved one will find plenty of familiar ground here and anyone who is going through this right now I urge you to steer clear. I listened to this on a drive home one evening and on pulling up to my house I had to shake myself from this dream and remind myself that I was still loved and she was just inside that door. The music here is as sparse and minimal as the moments of joy in Darnielle's life and his falsetto delivery of woe is powerful and crippling.

Many of the songs chart the various stages one has to go through after a break-up. "Woke Up New" describes the first morning you wake up alone and how your daily routine is peppered with memories of the person that shared your life. He wanders through the house, lost, and states "an astronaut could have seen the hunger in my eyes from space." In "Half Dead" he throws himself into menial jobs "trying not to get caught, try to think like a machine," he tells himself as he sorts through her old things. "Moon Over Goldsboro" charts that time in the break up recovery when you allow yourself to reminisce about your lost love either thinking you can handle it or knowing you can't but the masochist in you needs the pain. Each memory is followed by the line "Still wake up alone," as if she is following him everywhere like a ghost.

But the song that really finishes you off is the title track where Darnielle really sets the scene of a world empty and cold that has no place for you now that you're alone. It features the achingly beautiful line, "and I will get lonely and gasp for air, and send your name up from my lips like a signal flare."

Darnielle's emotional power doesn't really come from intricately crafted poetry as it would from Bonnie 'Prince' Billy, but from his simple descriptive lyrics and hushed, delicate singing and although "Get Lonely" navigates very well known waters it does it with heart breaking grace.

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4th Sep 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Six Degrees

Pilot Episode

New drama from JJ "Lost/Alias" Abrams, following six strangers whose NY lives start to overlap. Much more mainstream fodder than Lost or Alias (no spies, gadgets or black smoke monsters in the pilot) which may be why it's the first US show that ITV1 have picked up in the UK for ages. Characters are: Grieving Mother, Moody Photographer, Doubting Businesswoman, Girl Hiding From Past, Nice Lawyer, Shady Chauffeur. Dorian Missick, Hope Davis, Erika Christensen, Bridget Moynahan, Campbell Scott, Jay Hernandez make for a decent, multiracial cast. Bit cheesy in places, but might work; good to see a mainstream drama that's trying to do a little more than just have another law firm with kooky characters etc.

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#chimp71

29th Aug 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Foo Fighters

In Your Honor

Everybody loves Dave Grohl, including me, so the idea of a rock/accoustic double CD from the Foo Fighters certainly has appeal. The first (rock) disc is pretty thundering, with a great opener In Your Honor sounding like an angry, heavier Pink Floyd, followed by a handful of great, powerful numbers (No Way Back, Best of You, DOA). After that however, a couple of average tracks with fairly whack lyrics make you realise what an unfaltering pace the album has, and that's actually a problem. Things pick up towards the end of disc one with Resolve sounding like fairly classic Foo, and The Deepest Blues Are Black is pretty good, but moving onto the acoustic disc and things flatten out again...

There are a lot of good tracks on disc two, but without the juxtoposition of heavier tracks, there's no real yardstick for what stands out and what doesn't. Don't get me wrong, you get a lot for your money and there's more than a CD's worth of really top tracks, but you might be advised to edit and sequence your own version of this album.

Nice idea, but an unsuccesful one.

UPDATE: A hot tip from chimp jnr: organise a playlist by track number (1,1,2,2,3,3 etc) and things even out a lot better.

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17th Aug 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet