Chimpomatic

Sunset Rubdown

Dragonslayer

Jagjaguwar

Ever since Sunset Rubdown's debut LP Shut Up I Am Dreaming made its welcome and permanent position in my life it has become quite clear that Spencer Krug's side project was threatening to upstage the main event. Now 3 years on and their third album sees the transformation complete. Never before has Wolf Parade sounded more like an afterthought and this band more like the powerhouse it has always threatened to be.

2007's Random Spirit Lover was a studio-built album, almost entirely written while recording and every layer being painstakingly overdubbed and adjusted. The result was tremendous but utterly overwhelming in its size and intensity. Dragonslayer is a totally different story. It is the product of a far more organic recording process with the music being left in its raw state and allowed to grow naturally. Strangely enough, having been born in a contrasting environment, Dragonslayer is just as momentous, but it's also an altogether different creation. Instead of pounding you into blissful submission Dragonslayer sprinkles angel dust in your eyes by way of some truly magnificent compositions and Spencer Krug's writing, which really have no place in a world this cynical.

Random Spirit Lover was all about excess. Almost every song launched into full blown magnitude during the first few bars with Krug filling every corner of each song with frenzied poetry. The first thing you notice about Dragonslayer is the space. The songs are long and the music is allowed time to really explore its territory. Instead of springing out of the blocks most songs here enjoy some of the most sublime introductions I've heard in a long time. Krug makes ambitious music and by gradually raising up these compositions in the way he does here transforms them into stella entities. I never thought he would ever top Shut Up I Am Only Dreaming Of Places Where Lovers Have Wings from the debut but Idiot Heart comes closer than anything else to stealing that crown. With a chugging guitar intro Krug simmers with brilliant clarity and patience. The instruments keep a low but weighty profile with a glorious guitar circling them with wild abandon. "You can't settle down until the Icarus in your blood drowns" mumbles Krug as the whole intricate construction swells in unison on the wing of this guitar work that never fails to light a fire in your heart in the brief time it is given to fly. In over six minutes in length this song dips and dives, hinting at finishing then changing course and hurtling off again.

Black Swan has a drum beat intro that runs for over a minute which is virtually unheard of from this band. Krug and his musicians explode periodically along this beat but then fade away to leave it running in its beautiful simplicity. The raw production employed on these songs is best seen in the lead guitar. On this song it flares and soars with unbridled energy then drops into the rhythm with expert timing. It really gives this album its feeling of limitlessness as it sings such heart wrenching melodies but with such gruff and gravely textures.

I could write endlessly about some of these songs, the dub rhythmical structure of You Go On Ahead (Trumpet Trumpet II), the near electro sound that introduces Nightingale/December Song or the moment Camilla Wynne Ingr first utters her soft vocal pearls on Idiot Heart but music this precious should really be left to be experienced. I could write forever but always fall short of capturing the magic that lies in Krug's crazy heart. He sings of shooting stars, magical palaces, kings and queens and mouthfuls of butterfly wings because these are the only concepts that sit comfortably in this vast imagination. By hiding under the sheltering banner of a side project Krug has managed to sneak up the inside lane and rides comfortably upfront. Propelled by bluebird's wings and dragon's flames he's racing ahead as one of todays finest songwriters and with a band this strong behind him there really is no stopping this glorious insanity.

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#BC

29th Jun 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Low Anthem

Oh My God, Charlie Darwin

Bella Union

At some point in their fledgling careers all 'man with guitar' outfits will have to bear reference to the 'man with guitar' master. If there's one aspect of His Bobness that Bella Union's The Low Anthem emulate, it is the sense of an old 'all seeing' soul in a young man's body. Long before the mundanity of a youth in a simple mining town was discovered by biographers and used against him by 'Judas' shouting fanatics Dylan created a myriad of myths about his upbringing. The 'ho-bo on a train' and 'circus performer on the run' personas that Dylan invented for himself created a mystique that allowed the listener to accept a wisdom that defied his tender years. Though technically 'two men with guitars', The Low Anthem have something of that sort of quality; with a philosophy that seeps from their music suggesting many years on a Kerouacian road. This comforting suspension of disbelief is a joy that makes The Low Anthem so enchanting; it would be a shame if it was shot to pieces by revealing that it is all just cut and pasted by 21st century teenagers with access to folk pages on wikipedia.

In terms of the actual sound and feel of The Low Anthem it is not the original Dylan that springs to mind, but rather the original 'new Dylan'; Bruce Springsteen. One always gets the sense that at heart The Boss is really the boy from New Jersey who got a union card and wedding coat for his 19th birthday rather than being born to run. Its not that The Low Anthem sound like Springsteen rather that they sound what a young Bruce might have sounded like if he had carried on along Thunder Road in search of America rather than getting bogged down with 'debts that no honest man can pay' down in Asbury Park and Atlantic City. Embarking from Rhode Island they must have hit the Midwest built a bonfire and larked about with a banjo, stopped off in the Appalachian mountains for a hill-billy hoe down, howled at the moon like the Boss's hero Tom Joad out on the dusty prairies, soaked up some Blue Grass in the Georgian swamps and been lifted by the sound of Spiritiuals in the deep south. 'Oh My God, Charlie Darwin', The Low Anthem's second album, is all of these things, with moments akin to a melancholic Bruce rocking gently alone on a porch or rollicking good times with the E Street Band in tow.

If your idea of great music is a band in a basement, then I dare say you'll love 'Oh My God, Charlie Darwin' and wish you'd been out on the road with the two men with guitars. If it isn't, then you'll probably be happy to book a last minute package and be glad that at no stage were you subjected to hotel lobby music that sounded in any way like 21st century Americana. The Low Anthem are the latest in a lineage from Woody Guthrie through Tom Waits and the Boss - who all the while manage to sound timeless.

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#Muxloe

26th Jun 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

White Denim

Fits

Full Time Hobby

In my review of the dazzling debut album from White Denim, I referred to the free-weeling nature of their style to the possibility that their cup runnith over, that Workout Holiday was the result of someone calling time on this non-stop outpouring of grimy creative muscle flexing. Well almost a year on from this release and we get the followup, thus proving my point. Workout Holiday was a collection of new work and previous EP's so Fits has different role to play - but when you're so blind-sided by an album as I was with their debut, it sure is interesting to see the follow-up and put the catalogue into a context.

Their debut set them up as slightly unhinged punk upstarts and the clever thing about this record is that it not only hammers that point home quite profoundly, but also destroys it as a stereotype by placing them in some other less predictable arenas - that of lounge jazz, prog, psyche rock and even a bit of tropicalia. They've imposed quite a rigid structure on the record by separating these various approaches. The band describe the approach as "less medium to medium-hard songs and more songs that are medium-soft and hard-hard." Hard-hard leads the record with medium-soft occupying the second half. Very little ground is re-trodden here and from the outset it's quite clear that the manic schizophrenia they displayed earlier was nothing compared to what they are capable of. Radio Milk How Can You Stand It opens a four song run of some of the most sprawling free-form garage rock you'll have heard in a while. Drummer Josh Block and bassist Steve Teribecki lead this charge with non-stop rolling thunder. When I saw them in east London last month they treated us to a full throttle rock marathon that refused to acknowledge track-breaks. This is obviously how they roll these days and as All Consolation and Say What You Want repeatedly change up in arrangement and go careering off in unpredictable directions they might as well have done without track breaks here.

As far as the soft half of Fits is concerned Mirrored And Reverse is by far the highlight. It was given out as a free download in anticipation of the record and at the time it seemed quite a curious departure for this band but in the context of the record it not only make perfect sense but shines out as the best song here. It scuffles along on a downbeat rhythm with Petralli's vocals assuming an uncharacteristically subtle tone. As the rhythm swells the guitar drifts in with a guttural sort of blues that carries away the rest of the song. It's a worthy figurehead of this new sound and shows a more considered approach to their music. Along with the country pop of Paint Yourself and the lounge lazy haze of I'd Have It Just The Way We Were this second half treats us to some fine pop hooks like the ever-so-light and playful Regina Holding Hands.

Lead single I Start To Run and Everybody Somebody reign-in their tendency to erratic compositions and become near perfect garage rock. They drop in periodically to remind us that when they want to this trio can pull out a piece of toe-tapping grufty perfection, but they'd prefer to leave all that to other bands and strive forward into unknown territory. Fits may not be as instantly appealing or as jaw-droppingly exciting as Workout Holiday, but it's this refusal to stay still that makes it such a ballsy success. They started off as a bunch of punks who didn't know the rules and now they seem to have their eyes on the Hendrix crown, and it's only been a year. Their live show was an awesome display of energy and with Fits they've won themselves the freedom that some bands spend their entire career chasing. As I said after reviewing Workout Holiday, I can't wait for the next shot of this lot.

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#BC

23rd Jun 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Flipper

Generic/Gone Fishin'/Public Flipper Ltd./Sex Bomb Baby

Domino

Re-re-re-release time for the four Flipper albums. Boy, these rekkids have a long history of being issued with some legal wrangling and format wars all rolled in for good measure. Apparantley a big influence on Nirvana, Henry Rollins and plenty of sludge-rock bands, Flipper are pretty much the also-rans of the American punk scene. Too slow and experimental for many, too noisy and uncompromising for others, it's easy to see why they never achieved the star status of those who followed. Here then, are their four official releases (with the exception of their new album) for those who missed them first time, second time, or third time round.

Generic Flipper
Flipper's first album kicks off with "Ever", which lays down their manifesto from the word go - guitar out of tune with the bass (and itself) in a gigantic wash of fuzz and reverb, but jollied along by go-go hand-claps. Perhaps this is Flipper's charm - even on the two studio albums they sound like they're having a crack at playing all the tunes for the first time, without the benefit of rehearsal. Naturally there are some moments when the originality of the vocals or the catchiness of the riffs break through the noise for a decent glimpse of what the fuss was all about, and on Generic the best track is the infamous "smoke on the water of punk" Sex-Bomb. Actually, Sex-Bomb is more of a punk "Low Rider" with it's infectious bass groove. Confusingly, Flipper also released a track called Lowrider which makes no reference to War's track...anyway...

Gone Fishin'
The second album is more sonically diverse, employing Sax, Vibes and Piano in places whilst continuing with the tradition of playing very loose. It's pretty heavy in places - less punk and more sludge - sort of like a prototype version of The Cows, and there are further flashes of what the band might have become if various members didn't keep dying of drug overdoses. Standout tracks are In Life My Friends, and Talk's Cheap.

Public Flipper Ltd
This is a collection of live tracks recorded by Flipper during their glory years (81 - 83). If you've enjoyed the sound of Flipper's first two albums you might wish to persevere with this one, since by now you'll be well used to the idea of the guitar being out of tune, and rather randomly played. Opening track New Rules No Rules is just about the most punk-rock thing you'll ever hear in your life - where Flipper's sound suddenly makes sense. Sadly though, the low-fi recordings do not convey the band's legendary HEAVY live sound, but at least there's quite a lot of material here that was not on the two studio albums - singles releases mainly - which leads us to...

Sex Bomb Baby
A collection of Flipper's singles and all remaining releasable tracks. The original 7" version of Sex-Bomb is great, complete with Riot noises over the end. The singles have the same kind of sound as the album tracks but they attempt to get the point across a little quicker, which sometimes helps. The track I really like here is Brainwash - truly original and nicely executed.

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You can't deny the influence Flipper have had on some great bands, but you can also hear why they were destined to be infamous rather than famous - they were dedicated to the way they sounded, but that very sound obscured the catchy elements of their tracks. I'm sure a good producer could have changed all that, but I don't think Flipper wanted to sound any other way. For once, I'd really like to hear an album full of Flipper cover versions done by contemporary bands who could wrestle the great bits out of the Flipper catalogue...and maybe even tune the guitars.

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#HarrisPilton

22nd Jun 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Bike For Three!

More Heart Than Brains

Anticon

More Heart Than Brains is a creation that has been steadily evolving for many years and across vast distances and comes to our ears now as a fully formed and glistening piece of work. Bike For Three! is the collaborative project of Belgian based electronic producer Joelle Phuong Minh Le (Greetings From Tuscan) and Canadian rapper Buck 65. It all began when Phuong Minh Le found Buck through his Myspace page about two years ago and then sent him a piece of music to write lyrics to. As he explained in a recent interview I did with him (coming soon), he was so taken with the quality of this first and fully formed piece of music she's given him saying "It was was extremely flattering to me that somebody would give me their absolute best best and would push themselves beyond anything they had done before." This first song inspired a blissfully productive series of creative exchanges with Phuong Minh Le delivering shimmering electronic landscapes, all fully formed and unpredictable in their direction, for Buck to weave his intricate lyrical musings. The result is a highly personal and tender opus and probably some of the best things this MC has delivered.

The two artists conducted this creative exchange for many years but have never met. This way of making a record could produce disjointed music with both artists working separately but actually More Heart Than Brains is the opposite. The obvious mutual respect that Terfry talks about is clearly what has driven these songs and what makes both elements merge perfectly. It has also driven each artist to rise to eachothers high standards. Phuong Minh Le's compositions are simply stunning. With an exquisite attention to detail she crafts elaborate vistas built around downtempo beats surrounded in bristling textures. They rarely end up where they start and even though she first approached Terfry the task of matching these compositions with lyrics must have been a daunting one indeed. But it's one that Terfry rises to with equal confidence.

Being presented with such pure and beautiful music has brought out some of the most personal and revealing lyrics he's ever penned. Phuong Minh Le's music stands in front of him like a mirror from which intimate reflections of love and life emanate with arresting honesty. Can Feel Love (Anymore) picks through the wreckage of a broken relationship and all the time Buck's chorus lyrics are shadowed by a subtle and effect laden female voice that only confounds the loneliness. This loneliness is seen again on Nightdriving where Buck's often seen persona as a loner in a strange land takes place in a city at night. The music here gleams like never before reflecting the light that bounces over nighttime urban surfaces. His flow is also severely challenged by this music. This is seen to dazzling effect on one of the albums many highlights There Is Only One Of Us. This song starts with a female intake of breath, as if about to speak. It continues on a steady beat with the lyrics ambling along but then rises on a wash of synths to finally drop into a drum and bass formation with little warning. Buck's tempo excellerates on cue and the whole thing just launches with thrilling pace.

Since 2005's Secret House Against The World it's been pretty tricky to predict what Buck 65's going to come out with next. The following Situation was a highly conceptual album that seemed to rely more heavily on hip hop beats, but it put him in a place that was hard to come back from artistically. This collaboration has proved a wise move for him, taking him out of his one-man-band comfort zone into unfamiliar and yet rich territory. As each artist raises their game, reacting spontaneously and honestly to the creativity of the other, More Heart Than Brains sounds almost like a live feed in an artistic bounce off. It's the sound of two individuals trading intimate thoughts over time and distance and you really can't help feeling honored to be allowed to listen in.

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#HHG

15th Jun 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Foreign Born

Person To Person

Secretly Canadian

Los Angeles based ‘Foreign Born’ release their new album, ‘Person to Person’- and it’s worth getting to know. This band’s sound is weighty and complex, with each song opening up like a landscape; building and growing, widening out into anthemic musical plains of guitar and synth.

'In the summer we survive the heat', drawls Matt Popieluch in the first track, ‘Blood Oranges’ - all tumbling riffs and a pulsing percussion heart. And that’s how it continues for the next nine tracks; guitar driven melodies and overlaid orchestration of strings and brass that invariably lend the songs real sonic depth.

There’s U2 in the mix, more than a hint of Modest Mouse and traces of the ubiquitous Arcade Fire. This music feels determinately optimistic - the cheerful guitars on ‘Early Warnings’ come out of the blue like a sudden interruption from some gig in downtown Lagos and bring a smile to your face. However across the album Foreign Born’s mood oscillates between hazy, summer warmth and the kind of melodramatic grandeur that comes with watching approaching storm clouds.

There are no rainbows without showers and the latter half of ‘Person to Person’ brings with it a soft melancholy in the more reflective songs: ‘It Grew On You’ and ‘See Us Home’. But even here, each track’s increasing momentum is driven along by Garrett Ray’s drums and the band’s enthusiasm that keeps insisting on something golden over the horizon.

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#LG

12th Jun 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Sonic Youth

The Eternal

Matador

As a teenager, once I got over the total, utter, complete sell-out of Sonic Youth moving from legendary indie labels like Homestead and SST to undeniably major label Geffen in 1990, it was obvious pretty quickly that nothing had changed for the band. While my interest seemingly waned after Experimental Jetset, a quick scan through the back-catalogue reveals that I have inadvertently absorbed every major release - and none could be described as disappointing or flat. After releasing 9 albums with the label, Sonic Youth left Geffen in 2007, before pulling the typically left-field move of releasing a greatest hits exclusively through Starbucks, then self-re-released Master Dik and finally settling with Matador for the release of The Eternal.

While The Eternal is being promoted as something of a new chapter for the band, there's no need to reset your expectations - and you're certainly in no danger of being disappointed. Early single Sacred Trickster kicks things off, before the abrasive pummel of Anti-orgasm lets you know the band have lost none of their power - or their ability to craft a catchy tune. The sing-a-long style of Leaky Lifeboat (For Gregory Corso) sits comfortably alongside the screeching rock of Calming The Snake, making for a strangely cohesive record.

Jim O'Rourke may have departed in 2005, but the open slot in the line-up made room for former Pavement bassist Mark Ibold and his contribution is note worthy here, providing a focused spine through many of the songs that the guitars swirl closely around. The best songs on the album follow the same pattern that my Sonic favourites always did: a simmering, bubbling pot of sound that harnesses the power of a storm and takes its shape as a subtly catchy leviathan. Antenna, What We Know, Malibu Gas Station - there's more than a handful of excellent tracks on here that will disappoint no one.

While 2006's Rather Ripped and Thurston Moore's own solo album have arguably moved the band into a more conventionally structured sequence of songs, it's easy to forget how much the musical landscape has shifted since the band's early, pioneering albums of the 80s. The feedback drenched sounds of Sister or Daydream Nation are now considered essential listening - due to the popularity of the 90s alternative explosion that Sonic Youth helped enable. As a result, it's easy not to appreciate how radical a custom-tuned 9.43 minute closing track like Massage The History may have once seemed.

While the girls may be commenting how good Kim Gordon's legs are for a 56 year old, I'm just happy that the band have kept their ambition and refusal to conform. It may not be so much of a new chapter, but at least The Eternal is the continuing story of an old favourite.

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#CSF

9th Jun 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Moon

(dir. Duncan Jones)

Great debut from Duncan Jones. Sam Rockwell is coming to the end of a three year solo ops mission on the moon, looking after a Helium-3 mining operation that's supplying the earth with a safe and efficient fuel source. He's kept company by Gertey, a happy-faced robot voiced by Kevin Spacey (apt name for this role), and regular video messages from his family. Of course, there wouldn't be much of a film if we just watched him going about his daily routine for too long without something going wrong up there...

Feels like it's been a while since we had a decent indie sci-fi to enjoy and it's not hard to see why: thanks to juggernaut franchises like The Matrix, Star Wars and Terminator, the genre as a whole has become the preserve of multi-million $$$ operations, relying on huge FX budgets and ear-crushing Dolby to make you believe we're in the future or in a galaxy far, far away from the one that gave us films like Dark Star or Silent Running. Even the original Terminator was a relatively low-budget affair when you look back from the perspective of Terminator: Salvation.

From the start you can tell that Jones hasn't forgotten that sci-fi didn't always equal huge budgets. That's not to suggest that Moon is held together with bits of string. Far from it. Instead, this is a film that's used its bucks wisely - reviving the use of models and carefully constructed sets to create a satisfying, lived-in feel to the lunar base. They've used CGI where needed as well, and the combo is great. From the fonts they've used for Lunar Industries, the corporate space mining operation, to the ceiling tracks that Gertey runs around, you can tell that Jones has distilled a lifetime of space-love into the look and feel here - without forgetting to write an interesting - and relevant story.

This is a film about corporate greed and industrial cynicism as much as it is about personal revelation, loneliness and freaky space oddities - exactly the sort of depth and reach that's been missing from sci-fi for a long time. If you've seen the trailer ("The last place you'd expect to find yourself...") you'll have some idea of the arena its heading into - if you haven't, this would be an ideal film to watch cold; we won't go into the mechanics of the plot here other than to say that the ping-pong scene is a treat, and that Sam Rockwell does a really impressive job as the lunar lander here. Perfectly pitched trippy soundtrack too from Clint Mansell, ex-Pop Will Eat Itself singer. 

A highly enjoyable indie sci-fi that's more than the sum of its references - well worth a trip.

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#chimp71

3rd Jun 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Thee Oh Sees

Help

In The Red

With John Dwyer's last offering still welcomely ringing in my ears the San Francisco band drop its followup, a worthy partner and one that accurately identifies its predecessors strengths and wisely chooses to focus on these. In all its many incarnations Dwyer's latest band has itself taken all sorts of twists and turns musically. Thee Oh Sees originally started out as an expression of Dwyer's softer side, emerging out of the raucous noise of his previous bands Pink And Brown and Coachwhips he delivered a lo fi folk sound that was somber but beautiful. Last years The Masters Bedroom Is Worth Spending A Night In changed all that with Dwyer expanding his formation into a wild concoction of psychedelia and gritting rockabilly garage noise. Help is nowhere near such a dramatic turn as His Masters Bedroom was and continues this sound but hacks off the fat leaving twelve solid songs and very little fillers.

Help draws straight, dark lines to both the British psychedelic rock bands like The Creation and the caveman thud of The Troggs. Dwyer's howl is very much at the forefront of this sound albeit buried by the mounting rock scuzz muscle that surrounds it. It's hard to pick standout moments on an album of this consistency but Go Meet The Seed covers this bands strengths perfectly. The chugging guitar that forms the hefty structure all the way through it is stark and basic but pounds relentlessly. The vocals are given space which is something that rarely happened in the last album but really pays off. Brigid Dawson's harmonies still shadow Dwyer's every move to great effect and juxtapose the grit of the music. This song really illustrates the growth that has occurred since the last record, it leans back and allows each element of this sound to flex. Thankfully the ragged ferocity still remains and I Can't Get No sees this expressed in all its straight up glory. It's a fraction of the length of Go Meet The Seed but crams all the elements into a short stab of simple-as-hell rockabilly joy.

Having ditched the momentary noise freakouts that occasionally rendered the last record fragmented but keeping the Cramps influence, Dwyer has created a record that seems to be a culmination of all of his previous projects and one that showcases his talents as a songwriter perfectly. His work often challenges but never takes itself too seriously, it seems to emerge with great ease and listening to it is definitely getting more pleasurable by every release. He's more prolific than most but the quality seems to rising at the same rate as the quantity.

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#BC

2nd Jun 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Jason Lytle

Islington Academy, London

May 28th, 2009

The last time I saw Jason Lytle was at Brixton Academy in 2003 on the biggest ever Grandaddy tour. Behind his defunct keyboard equipment shone a huge screen that dazzlingly projected films to accompany every song. Snow Patrol were the little known support act. How times have changed. Snow Patrol are huge for some strange reason and Grandaddy are no more. But as I watched this reluctant indie hero shuffle on to the stage in the far more intimate surroundings of the Islington Academy it was clear that this change of circumstances were fine by him.

He doesn't take center stage anymore staying off to the right behind his intricately wired equipment. Cleanly shaven (and unnervingly resembling Keifer Sutherland) he emerged after a curiously dramatic operatic recorded intro in which a female voice asks "who's playing tonight, Oh he's the guy from that band Grandaddy," and he found himself in the presence of his religiously adoring fans who have waited a long time for this. As soon as his first breathy word was uttered it was like seeing an old fiend for the first time in ages. With a new band behind him he treated us to multiple picks from his new solo record and some choice Grandaddy cuts, although none from the last record.

For any long term fan of his former band it was a joyous thing indeed to hear the opening bars to Chartsengrafs as the first song rang out. A magnificently extended rendition of Jed's Other Poem awaited us a few songs later but the real treat was two of my favorite songs from this impeccable back catalogue, Levitz and the Crystal Lake B side Our Dying Brains, which always sounds better live than in original form. Obviously he played the new material with evident pride and glancing round the crowd during songs like Yours Truly and Brand New Sun it was clear how well received these new songs are as everybody mouthed the words as if singing along to the classics. Whether fronting Grandaddy or standing alone on the stage Jason Lytle is consistently a class live act. He has an uncanny power to render you gooey eyed with dreamy nostalgia and no matter what torrent of noise he raises up around his vocals his words are always crystal clear, shining out with dazzling clarity through perfect sound production.

With a curiously short rendition of the second half of He's Simple, He's Dumb, He's The Pilot as the encore the band left the stage all too early. I suppose they had to go sometime and we could all have stayed there until dawn broke but this exit seemed unplanned and sudden. Whatever the reason it sure was good to have the boy back in our town. As he paused halfway through the all time crowd favorite A.M.180 and stated, "here I am back in London playing this annoying melody," the London crowd rapturously thanked their hero for the memories.

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#Gig
#BC

1st Jun 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Wavves

Wavvves

Bella Union

Wavves is the solo project of San Diego's Nathan Daniel WIlliams and that's the simple part. This is his second full length release, the first came out earlier this year and was self titled and featured the song Wavves, which was one of the best songs on the album. Both records have as their cover image, a faded photograph of a kid on a skateboard in his backyard and both will fix your head in a homemade vice but you'll love every minute of it.

Much like its front cover which features a kid attempting a drop-in off a wheelbarrow in the 70's, the debut record was pumped full of hazy nostalgia, disaffected youth rebellion, boyish reverie and was all churned out with the same DIY scuzz that you'd expect from a wheelbarrow drop-in. This follow-up features a more zoomed in shot of the same kid but this time he's found an actual ramp and it's possible to see a link between these two visual differences. They both thrash uncontrollably between slacker-punk and twisted surf-rock, they're both shrouded in red-line production and they're both pretty damn gnarly but this followup is more focused, more fluid and much like the difference between a wheelbarrow and a ramp when it comes to skateboarding this one is way more fun.

He's got himself a drummer on this new record and it makes a big difference. Together they scoop up the sticky floor-muck that is left behind after your average punk gig and recycle it back into music. Incorporating elements of Sonic Youth, Nirvana, the Beach Boys and contemporaries like No Age and Sic Alps, Williams masterfully evokes every musical and social teenage experience I can remember and filters it all through claustrophobic production. The two most obvious central anthems are So Bored and No Hope Kids. Both illustrate Williams' knack for crafting perfect pop hooks and melodies and then burying it all under a ton of feedback and general punk noise. They clatter around as if directionless but even in their most abrasive spells the pop element is always adhered to. I use that word 'Pop' with some pretty heavy inverted commas around it, but in this context it represents direction, be that melody or rhythm. Everything possible is done to submerge this element but it ends up carrying most of these songs to their successful conclusion.

To sum up, may I use the Paris Hilton vernacular and call Wavves my NFB (New Favorite Band) This title has been awarded for some pretty base level reasons. Williams makes proper punk rock that while doused in the contemporary trend of red-line production hollers with teenage nostalgic abandon and instantly takes me back to sunny days spent hating the world and dropping-in off wheelbarrows. Good times.

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#BC

29th May 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Crocodiles

Summer Of Hate

Fat Possum

The days of getting into new bands by the thank you's in the liner notes of a record are sadly long gone, as bittorrent downloads don't come with such added details, but the ever increasing ripples of excitement that are emanating from this band have largely originated from the fact that No Age included their self released 7" Neon Jesus in their Top Ten Songs of 2008.

The fact that No Age mentioned them in the first place is in itself quite misleading. Crocodiles are pretty scuzzy with ample feedback and effects permeating through each note but their adherence to pop sensibilities remove them quite considerably from the brand of noise punk that No Age craft. Long time friends Charles Rowell and Brandon Welchez hail from sunny San Diego and I guess Summer Of Hate emerges from an alternative and less glamorous Californian life that is filtered over to us here, a life of hum drum days and bored teenagers. So as a result you get an album drenched in hazy sunshine but dripping with grime. I say 'dripping with grime' but this may be a slight exaggeration. One scratch at this greasy surface and a gleaming pop structure reveals itself below. In fact, without even scratching another structure reveals itself, that of The Jesus And Mary Chain. I Wanna Kill, an extremely catchy piece of scuzz pop, is built almost entirely on the frame work of Head On, the same drum beats and a hook that follows the 80's hit to the letter. But instead of holding this against them, the song and the rest of the record is so satisfying that I find myself carrying on regardless. Soft Skull (In My Room) is a damn near perfect blend of dub rock and art-punk madness.

The record can be divided quite equally into two types of approach, that of the afore mentioned spiky pounders and the tripped out atmospherics of songs like Here Comes The Sky and the title track which swirls around like a modern day Velvets submerging the distant vocals in layer upon layer of effect laden melodies. There's enough of a blend of 80's synth beats and very contemporary punk rock grit to make this much more than a cheap rehash. It has a refreshingly different agenda than a lot of the noise pop acts around at the moment. It isn't very noisy and it doesn't aim to pummel you but rather seethes with tension and anxiety. Though Crocodiles at times seem to be hovering tentatively on the fringes of the noise punk sound as if not quite confident enough to dive headlong in their decision to keep an eye on melody make this a familiar yet rewarding listen.

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28th May 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

White Denim

Old Blue Last, London

May 18th 2009

There's an old parable of a bug who lived in the worlds most beautiful Persian rug. He spent all his time laboriously climbing over each tuft and viewed them as nothing but obstacles that stood in his way of progress. The sad tale is that he lived and died in this thing of beauty but never saw the glorious pattern to which he belonged. I was reminded of this tale as I stood in the beer soaked ambiance of Shoreditch's Old Blue Last watching Texan trio White Denim. As they embarked on what would be a mammoth non-stop medley of pretty much everything on their debut LP it was at times hard to see this onslaught of feral noise as mere obstacles that stood in the way of me and a lifetime of healthy hearing. But thankfully, and unlike our little bug friend, one nod from vocalist James Petralli towards his band members and the whole thing would drop into jagged funk riffs and as if by magic the pattern was revealed and the beauty made gloriously evident.

Admittedly using words like 'pattern' and 'beauty' is perhaps as misguided as feeding caviar to a rabid dog. The reality was a sweaty bar heaving with eager fans and three guys who thrashed the shit out of their fledgling back catalogue. This set wasn't just one song after another, it was one song, lasting for about 25 minutes and never let up in tempo. The only reason they had a short break in the middle was to repair some equipment. It was fierce and furious and played out like they had a train to catch, double-time. It was thrilling from start to finish and actually made me resent the times we live in. We're all so self aware now-days and it felt wrong not to be punching some dude in the face to this music, not intentionally of course but a dirty yet euphoric mosh scrap was really the only fitting way to behave in the presence of such passionately manic rock. And yet like their album, all this seemingly unharnessed frenzy is very much supported by a sturdy and considered foundation and when it chooses to reveal itself the pattern is awesome. From what I could hear above the ringing in my ears (which still goes on this morning) the new songs sound just as sturdy as the old which just fueled my appetite for the imminent release of the new record Fits. I recommend anybody in earshot to go and see these guys.

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20th May 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Odawas

The Blue Depths

Jagjaguwar

WARNING: 1983 VERSION OF SCARFACE SOUNDTRACK SPOILER ALERT.

If there are three things the 1983 remake of Scarface is known for it is probably violence, swearing and a truly shocking synth-drenched soundtrack.

However, were it Michael Mann not Brian De Palma remaking Scarface in 1983. And were Tony Montana to be getting high on his own supply of marijuana and not cocaine. And were Tony Montana to come to realise that world wasn’t actually just ‘his’ but infact was there to be shared with Dolphins and Whales and other such sea dwelling mammals. And were Sir David Attenbrough to pop up at some point. Whether you would have a superior film or not is highly questionable, whether you would have a superior soundtrack however is highly likely. And the chances are it would sound something like this, the 4th album from Indiana’s Odawas. Subtle synth tinged oceanic influenced niceness with yet another high-pitched/reverbed/lovely vocal ala My Morning Jacket / Band of Horses / Great Lake Swimmers ……as Tony Montana would say "Oooh that's nice. Who is it?".

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15th May 2009 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Pink Mountaintops

Borderline, London

May 11th 2009

Steven McBean's Pink Mountaintops were in town in support of recent third album Outside Love - and hot from an appearance at the ATP Festival. After storming shows from the Black Mountain mothership last year, McBean is worth catching in any guise and this was no exception.

Perfectly suited to the Canadian-ski-shack-meets-Mexican-bolthole vibe of the Borderline, album opener Axis: Bold as Love opened the show, with the six-man band working as a great base for post-skater McBean (that hidden key chain is a dead give-away) to lead with his great voice. The subtle ebbing and flowing of the at-time hypnotic sounds was easy to get lost in, through tracks like Vampires, And I Thank You and Plasticman, You're The Devil - while older tracks like Sweet '69 and Single Life provided a more up-tempo element, displaying the band's wide range.

Amber Webber's vocals were sorely missed, but team stand-ins Sophie Trudeau and Sar Friedman did an admirable job - with the violins proving to be a rare secret weapon and the additional back-up vocals really filling out the bands sound. Add to that the great drumming and Black Mountain regular Matt Camirand's pounding bass and what's not to like? With the curfew police closing in, the band returned to the stage for a single encore - possible career highlight Tourist In Your Town.

In a style much like their recent album, Pink Mountaintops were laid-back, effortless and engaging - providing a (temporarily) welcome antidote to the relentless precision of big brother Black Mountain. Superior entertainment.

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13th May 2009 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Great Lake Swimmers

Lost Channels

Nettwerk

There is a quiet beauty that runs through every album by this band but, the strong foundations that support this new release make this beauty sing more clearly and reveal itself with more confidence and power. With Tony Dekker's wistful vocals and the vast musical country-folk arrangements they create visions of endless landscapes rolling out before you in various seasonal warmth or chill.

Their previous work has tended to concentrate on the latter but I am overjoyed to see the sunshine streaming in on much of Lost Channels. Like Fleet Foxes, or My Morning Jacket it's the vocals that do most of the work in summoning up these epic spacial visions and Dekker only has to breath before this fills your mind's eye. But the warmth that accompanies these visions is what makes this record stand out from the others and turn it into a delight from start to finish. Songs like opener Palmistry, Pulling A Line and Still rely on strum-heavy rhythms that take the listener on a soaring flight of pure majesty while She Comes To Me In Dreams, probably the gutsiest track here, breaks this renewed briskness with pounding drums that bust open the back end of this song revealing a cavernous and monumental hidden space.

As well as all this you've got your expected chill that snakes in and out of this warmth. Much of Ongiara dwelt on this aspect of Dekker's voice, lush strings and gentle guitar waft effortlessly along as his feather-light vocals coax tars from each song. Concrete Heart and Stealing Tomorrow are two fine examples of the power of this voice. But it's this contrast, warmth and chill, light and dark, that really makes Lost Channels the album that raises this band to another level. Shearwater did it with Palo Santo and they've never been the same since. Great Lake Swimmers have proved with this record that while picking up the pace slightly and letting the sunshine in they sacrifice none of the spellbinding beauty and ghostly ambiguity that define their work.

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11th May 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Vaselines

Enter The Vaselines

Sub Pop

Talking to a friend about cover versions, he said that his pal always preferred the first version of the song he heard rather than the first one recorded. Anguished, he told how his chum maintained that Jamie Cullum did a better version of High and Dry than Radiohead. With the ‘first past the lughole’ preference in mind, I was intrigued to listen to this aggregate collection of the Vaselines – ‘Enter The Vaselines’. Would the original versions of the late 80’s Scot indie band be better than the versions I knew by Messer’s Cobain, Novoselic and Grohl?

Kurt Cobain (from Aberdeen, USA) was a big fan of the Vaselines (from Glasgow, Scotland). So much so, that he is alleged to have described founder members Eugene Kelly and Frances McKee as his "most favourite songwriters in the whole world”. Which might explain why Nirvana released three Vaseline songs: "Molly's Lips” and "Son of a Gun" on 1992’s Incesticide and the more widely known "Jesus Doesn't Want Me for a Sunbeam" on the MTV Unplugged album.

Of course it’s unfair to talk about The Vaselines only in terms of being the band wot Kurt liked (which, I’ll confess, I seem to do in this review). However, it seems clear that the loud applause from the Grungemeister has been central in widening their fan base and in encouraging Sub Pop to re-release all their stuff…again (In 1992 Sub Pop packaged up just the two EP’s and the album).

This time the Seattle label has gone the whole way with this deluxe remastered album as it once again contains all the music ever released by the band, but is rounded off with some demos and two live sets recorded in Bristol and London. The two EP’s ‘Son of Gun’ and ‘Dying For It’ were originally on sale in 1987 and 1988, while their only album - ‘Dum-Dum’ - was originally released the week the band broke up in 1989. (Though they did reform - for the first time - to open the bill when Nirvana played Scotland in 1990).

So. A word to the wise: listening to the 36 songs in one sitting is hard work. Hearing three versions of “Son of a Gun” and “The Day I Was A Horse” is tough going (though I was happily humming the former for the rest of the day). The whole thing is much more agreeable when broken down into it's composite bits - with the looseness and humour of the live shows making them the most enjoyable slices.

With strong hints of a Velvet Underground drone, at their best the raw sound delivers catchy pieces of punk pop. However, it does feel a bit one-dimensional and, while it might simply be due to familiarity, I think Cobain picked out the best tunes (with the exception of the horse song). As for the battle of versions: It’s a close run thing, but I think Nirvana just edge it. The songs on Incesticide have more power and pedals, while the Vaselines lose vital points for the squeaky toy that needlessly appears on the EP version of ‘Mollys Lips’.

Here’s an editable spotify playlist of some covers and the originals. See if you can last more than the 40 seconds I managed of Jamie Cullum. 

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8th May 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Red Red Meat

Bunny Gets Paid

Sub Pop

Being that I'm neither of a superstitious persuasion or a 9 year old boy I do not have a favourite number. If I was to do so however it would be 45. Being a history geek it resonates with 1945. It constitutes one half of the beautiful game. But really it is a happy conjunction of the fact that classic albums were moulded for the 45 minutes of space on vinyl and that 45 is the number of minutes it takes for me to walk home work. 45 minutes of blissful private head space and immersion music.
 
Working as a music reviewer can reap rich rewards and found gems have always rendered the before mentioned 45 minute walk a pleasure. Red Red Meat made it tortuous and tedious in equal measure. Bunny Gets Paid was the third of a trilogy of albums from the Chicago 'post grunge' band, first released in 1995. The omens are good as Sub Pop proclaims it as 'easily one of the high points of the entire Sub Pop catalog'. With stiff competition that is quite some accolade and prompted some excited anticipation.
 
To my mind it seems there's a perfectly adequate reason as to why Bunny Gets Paid failed to sell first time round. Because it's not that good. The necessary ingredients are all present, with fuzzy guitars and outsider ethos, but it fails to inspire. At the time it would have sounded much like everything else and sadly it stills does. There's no sense of kicking oneself and cursing 'damn how did I miss out on this first time round?'. By some accounts Red Red Meat have turned out to be quite influential but I doubt they will acquire Velvet Underground status as a band feted after the event. To be remembered as significant requires more credentials than that the band were present at the grunge banquet with the obligatory slacker attitudes and a penchant for flannel shirts.
 
Apparently what makes Bunny Gets Paid stand out is that the band decided to play around with form to create a more loose sound. They succeeded with this, whilst also jettisoning melody and coherence. It sounds like a sound check from when Beck had a devil haircut; a sound check at which he couldn't be arsed to boot. The mid nineties obsession with rejecting over-production means that there is almost no quality control. Main man Tim Rutili recalls of the record "when I bring in a song it's usually not that good until other people fuck around with it, and there was a lot of fucking around this time". Somebody should have pointed out that broths that are stirred by too many cooks get spoiled. Red Red Meat lyrics are oblique, something to normally be encouraged, but instead of prompting intrigue, reflection and personal interpretation just lead to bemusement and a shrug of the shoulders.
 
Die hard fans will be pleased to know that this release of Bunny Gets Paid is also accompanied by extras- B-sides and out-takes - but passing trade may find it all utterly tedious. I dare say a handful of listeners may love this cult offering but, much as it would pain my 1995 persona to have to hear me say so, I think Sub Pop is wrong. This is not a Sub Pop high point. 

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7th May 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Doves

Kingdom of Rust

EMI

The other day, while shopping in Asda I found my self humming along to Elbow's On A Day Like This which was playing on what I presume was Asda FM and it got me thinking: surely this is when you know you've made it, when your artistic creations filter down to Asda level. Hell, I even heard that song playing in the Rovers on Corrie. This has been a long time coming for Elbow and it couldn't have happened to a better band or with a better album than The Seldom Seen Kid. I've always thought that Doves occupy a similar musical space to Elbow and have always curiously escaped the dizzy heights of Asda. Why bands like Coldplay have rocketed to star status with songs a fraction as good as Doves will forever escape me. By all accounts, based on the work they've put out so far, Doves should be one of the biggest bands in the world.

They're certainly one of the most steady bands performing today. Since their debut in 2000 they've delivered three strong albums full of stadium filling sounds that seem to have been born with the great ease. And yet we don't read about Jimi Goodwin's love exploits in the pages of Grazia. They're the Ryan Giggs of rock if you like - and with the fourth installment, Kingdom Of Rust, they should be getting the golden boot.

The first three songs on Kingdom Of Rust are Doves past, present and future and they're three of the best songs this band has ever produced. Choosing Jetstream as the opening song is a clear statement that the past five years since Some Cities haven't been wasted and Doves have certainly grown. It's a slow building, synth-heavy opener that swells to embrace Doves' previous Sub Sub qualities and levels out to a full-on techno-driven bullet train of a song. The title track is pretty much all you want from a Doves track - Goodwin's vocals riding atop a gently growing wave of delicate guitar work and euphoric melodies. Every one of their albums has one of these songs, the kind that make you want to throw your arms high in the air, The Cedar Room, There Goes The Fear and Black And White Town all had this and Kingdom Of Rust continues the tradition majestically. The Outsiders sees this band emerging from the last five years of silence with a new outlook, a darkly brooding tension and a refreshed muscular intention. Built around a relentless Krautrock rhythm it takes all of the past work and moulds it all into a seriously powerful sound that shows that this band may not have Asda FM knocking but they're not about to start trying to catch their ear. Emerging from the tinkling majesty of the previous track, The Outsiders drops its shoulder and drives forward into this driving, bass-heavy sound. To have a frontman playing bass really positions Goodwin as the central figure here. His ragged vocals are the sound of this band, but more notably than ever, his bass forms the throbbing vein of many of the best songs.

Though the album doesn't quite match the impact of the three-pronged opening assault it is never short of highlights. From 10.03's instrumental grunge breakdown that smashes Goodwin's astral first half to Compulsion's awkward 80's beat-fest, right through to House Of Mirrors ragged and endlessly pounding anthem, Kingdom Of Rust oozes great songs. It's a Doves album through and through, but things have changed. They've been watching the past five years but still do their own thing. It's hard to say that Doves haven't tasted the success they deserve when you see them playing to heaving crowds at Glastonbury - but somehow they haven't and this album is unlikely to change - that but in the shadow cast by that success there's room to take your time with your albums and come out with a stunning piece of work.

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1st May 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Metric

Fantasies

The forum of a Chimpomatic review is one that I’ve already used to declare my love for Emily Haines; an ardour born of her anthems as a Broken Social Scene-ster and the achingly beautiful collection of songs on solo project ‘Knives Don’t Have Your Back’. I did however add the caveat that I wished at times the ice maiden might lighten up a touch and with Metric, the third of her musical trinity, she has deigned to do just that; to magical effect.

Like any long term relationship I feared that the passion may be waning and that the fire may just be dying out on first listen to Fantasies; Metric’s first full length album in 4 years. I confess to initially being a little on the miffed and disappointed side. Gripes included; occasionally the lyrics border on hectoring, song progression can feel slightly formulaic (taught tights starts like an a bow being pulled back raising to urgency and then arrow release) the veneer of over polished production threatens to muffle some numbers and the odd tune sounds like they’d been penned for the more intimate and vulnerable solo set only to be shoe-horned into a full band run out with an air of forced bravado. Its not that the criticisms are no longer legitimate it’s just that they are irrelevant and over thought. If one dissects a frog then one also kills it.

A few more listens and the passion roars just as fiercely as it ever did; like wondering how you could have ever thought that the girl next door was ever anything other than absolutely beautiful. As Emily implores ‘watch out cupid’ - the arrow has been shot. The merits of Fantasies, after a fair hearing, blow away any reservations. ‘Stadium Love’ is a manifesto for world domination warning U2 to vacate the stage. ‘Blindness’ is the sound of an Indie Queen on top of her game. I defy anyone not to hear ‘Help I’m Alive’ and not hum it endlessly for the following few days while ‘Sick Muse’ just soars; there’s no other way to describe it.

An ear for a melody, choppy New Wave riffs, hooky synths, no frills powerhouse drumming and a voice that has lived and is still alive all marry together to create a perfect harmony. Love, like faith, grows stronger when tested and I’m still in love with Emily Haines.

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29th Apr 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Pinkmountaintops

Outside Love

Jagjaguwar

While best described as a Black Mountain side-project, Pink Mountaintops' debut record in fact preceded that of Black Mountain - but with the epic, note-perfect release of 2007's In The Future, Black Mountain is now firmly established as the main project, while Pink Mountaintops retains a distinctly more casual vibe, blending laid-back, bluesy riffs, with campfire vocals and the occasional burst of lo-fi disco rock.

Opener Axis: Thrones of Love is Pink Mountaintops-plus and sets the tone for much of the record with its slow pace, big drums and mellow harmonies. As expected, this is a more developed release than the previous two Pink Mountiantops records - and much as In The Future expanded Black Mountain's sound and pushed them into a new league, Outside Love attempts to do the same. The songs are bigger, more polished and more produced - while still eschewing that note-perfect precision of In The Future, instead opting for a more laid-back affair - more along the country-honk lines of Sticky Fingers than the technical perfection of Van Halen. It's also a good ten minutes longer than either of the previous Pink Mountaintops records - at a whopping 43 minutes.

With the band's higher profile comes a more extensive roster of guests on the record and guest spots are provided here for Godspeed You! Black Emperor's Sophie Trudeau, Jackie O Motherfucker's Josh Stevenson and Superconductor's Keith Parry amongst others. However, it's Black Mountain regular Amber Webber who makes the most notable contribution here - adding her atmospheric vocals to the excellent While We Were Dreaming, which recalls her own Lightning Dust album. Title track Outside Love is one notable disappointment on the record, promising much but never quite delivering, with the lumbering guest vocals from sunnO)))'s Jesse Sykes dragging it down. Luckily the damage is quickly repaired by album stand-out, I Thank You which builds on all the band's strengths, recalling Exile On Main St-era Stones and channeling the aforementioned country-honk in just the right places. The Gayest Of Sunbeams offers a break from the honkytonk and heads back into the disco-rock territory that the band explored with the likes of Bad Boogie Ballin' or more recent single Single Life, before the epic finale of Closer To Heaven.

Make no mistake, this is a great record that is a major move forward from the band's previous efforts, but it's missing that magic ingredient that lifted Black Mountain from 'great' to 'unmissable', and for that I can't help but feel mildly disappointed. Of course, this should come as no surprise in the context of The Pinkmountaintops' previous efforts and in fact even follows the step-up attitude that lifted the Black Mountain mothership's recent masterpiece up ahead of their prior work.

Outside Love was never going to topple In The Future from the throne and it has no intention of trying. This is a totally different beast and on its own terms it's another very successful effort.

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28th Apr 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Horrors

Primary Colours

XL Recordings

What The Horrors first album Strange House alluded to and what Primary Colours only serves to confirm is that The Horrors are in essence a pastiche band - begging, borrowing and stealing from rock n roll’s history and then repackaging and re-releasing. Re-invention should not be considered a criticism, but you could easily have expected Primary Colours to be more of the same, a method Oasis have been executing for well over 15 years. In fact, Primary Colours is very different to its predecessor, slower, measured - and where Strange House took the Goth punk of The Cramps and blended it with the sixties psychedelic weirdness of acts such as Screaming Lord Such, the influences running through this LP are altogether different.

On hearing the introduction of opening track Mirror Image, your first reaction may be that you’ve been given the wrong album. Where are the gothic organ sounds and sixties surf bass-lines? Here you’ll hear phasing, pitch-bending distortion; and may assume you have been handed a lost My Bloody Valentine album in error. Vocalist Farris Badawan’s first appearance confirms it’s the right record - but even then his performance resembles Brett Anderson with slightly larger testicles; gone is the aggressive scowl that dominates Strange House. Unfortunately this doesn’t end with the first track and while the My Bloody Valentine motif runs through most of the album, this is unfortunately no Loveless. More like a cheap market version of MBV, doing remixes of other bands: The Cure on Mirror Image, The Psychedelic Furs on Primary Colours, or Siouxsie and the Banshees on I Can’t Control Myself.

What is lacking from Primary Colours is the energy, the aggression, the uncontained vocals and the simple but effective musicianship of Strange House. No band has an obligation to be defined by genre and it would be wrong to demand it (although I‘m tempted to say any band employing the Madchester drum break employed in Do You Remember has no right to call themselves The Horrors, EMF yes, The Charlatans maybe, The Horrors no). What disappoints most is, while they were never going to be the most original band, they were at least unique. Strange House wasn’t perfect, but it was different and refreshing, best of all it sounded like the antithesis to the entire rolling basslined, high-keyed anthems that were and are still dominating the current music scene. If Strange House was The Horrors as mavericks, this is The Horrors falling back into line - if Brandon Flowers sung Scarlet Fields, it could easily be a Killers track (remixed by the counterfeit My Bloody Valentine of course).

This is not to make Primary Colours sound like an obituary, because there are some undoubted highlights. New Ice Age, despite the over production retains its energy, I Only Think Of You is strong enough to survive the Boards Of Canada treatment and the production on I Can’t Control Myself works well. Best of all is Sea Within A Sea, the epic 8 minute closer which starts like Joy Division’s No Love Lost and ends like Portisheads The Rip (unsurprising, as Portishead’s Geoff Barrow co-produces the album).

Where Strange House compelled you to throw yourself into the mosh pit, Primary Colours encourages you to stand at the back and listen with your arms firmly folded. Some may consider this progress but it could easily alienate many existing fans. It will probably get 9/10 from the NME and be described as The Horrors ‘maturing’, if that’s true it’s them reaching adolescence, talented but unsure, full of doubt and overly influenced by their friends. Somewhere there’s a great band trying to get out, but this album leaves you confused as to whether they’re a studio or live band. At some point they’re going to have to make that decision.

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27th Apr 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Brakes

Touchdown

Fat Cat

Brakes have come a long way since their gloriously ramshackled 2005 debut Give Blood. It lurched from one genre to the next with many songs coming in at well under the 2 minute mark. It was like a sonic sketch pad. Throughout the following Beatific Visions they added more meat to these bones and now they are certainly a mightier beast. The obvious change is that only 3 of the songs here are under 2 minutes and none beat the 7 second record held by the debut. But thankfully this change is merely cosmetic and though each song is longer the sentiment is still pretty much the same.

Thematically this album is as disparate as ever with each song appearing to have been born out of absolute circumstance. Delirious recording hours seems to have provided the setting for the crazy Don't Take Me To Space (Man) while Do You Feel The Same was recorded at the time of the financial crash when everyone was predicting the end of capitalism. So I guess what I'm saying is that much of this album is made up of ideas that seemed good at the time, and on the whole they were and still are.

Musically things have leveled out slightly. We don't get the stark contrast of bluegrass country jutting up against hard as nails punk ferocity as much as we did on the debut. It's more like country-rock dovetailing into punk-rock. With ex Delgado Paul Savage behind the production desk Touchdown is a more consistent rock record. The songs are perfectly formed ideas with everything you'd want from a rock song. Opener Two Shocks is the perfect example. It's slow to build and then with expert timing unveils itself to you with profound muscle unlike anything delivered by this band before. It's an opener that makes you step back and admire proudly the grownup standing in front of you. The same can be said for Crush On You and Oh! Forever. Looking at these three you just want to say patronizingly, "Haven't you guys grown, I've known you since you were this long."

There are still ample indications that this band hasn't totally matured, the best being Red Rag. The joint shortest at 1.33 minutes this song has all the snarl of previous 30 second sucker punches but borrows much from its older brothers that surround it here and plays out as a hard piece of feral rock. It's probably the best moment on the record and one that makes me glance back to the good ol' days of fun loving punk sketch books. Touchdown still possesses all these eccentricities but with all its mightier, stronger and better songs I can't help feeling the loss of something special. It's ever so slightly duller than before, but at the same time way better. Go figure.

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24th Apr 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Walkmen

You & Me

Fierce Panda

"When I used to go out I knew everyone I saw / Now I go out alone, if I go out at all" so sang front Walkman Hamilton Leithauser on ‘The Rat’, which along with ‘Little House of Savages’ was the other ‘Hit’ from ‘Bows and Arrows’, the New York Five Piece’s second album  released in 2004. Well the good news for Hamilton, four years and 2 and a bit albums later (2006’s Hundred Miles Off was followed by a cover album of John Lennon and Harry Nillson’s 1974 Pussy Cats) is that he seems to have found some significant company to which to devote plenty of material from their latest ‘You & Me’ (the title of which could be a giveaway, the album itself certainly was, with proceeds from the first two weeks of digital sales going straight to The Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer centre in New York).  The even better news for the rest of us, is that this already great band just keep getting better.

“You know I’d never leave you and that’s just how it is” (On the Water), 
“I tell you I love you and my heart’s in the strangest place, that’s how it started and that’s how it ends” (In the New Year)
“You are the morning and I am the night” (Canadian Girl)

Are just a select few of the lyrical bouquets presented by Leithauser, as beautifully gift-wrapped as ever by the vintage instruments favoured by the band.  Ok, ’You & Me’ has actually been out for the best part of a year, but as past releases have proved, there really is no point rushing into conclusions on a Walkmen record, once in, it’s going to stay with you for a long time, maturing with every listen.  Take ‘Seven Years of Holidays’ for example, there, amongst the reverbed guitar and sparse-distant drums, lies the subtlest of string sections - quietly elevating this previously unassuming track up into the favourites after the twenty-something listen.

But picking favourites from ‘You & Me’ is a fairly pointless exercise, whereas 'Bows and Arrows' and ‘A Hundred Miles Off’  had their clear and immediate standouts, ‘You & Me’ is built up of fourteen parts to make a devastatingly beautiful whole.  For me they are up there with The National as America’s standout band at the moment, if sensitive, thoughtful, intelligent, rocking tunes is what you are after.  6 months in, I’m still waiting for a different album to come along and knock it from its heavily repeated listen perch.  Great Stuff.

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#chimpovich

23rd Apr 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Veils

Sun Gangs

Rough Trade

After having seen Finn Andrews perform with his unassuming ensemble at a small east end pub not so long ago it's pretty hard not to get excited about a forthcoming release by The Veils. 2006's Nux Vomica came out of nowhere and blew my mind with its ferocious intensity. It was raw when it needed to be but as smooth as silk at other times and running through it all was such profound yet compellingly humble songwriting. Sun Gangs inevitably possesses all these qualities and is a worthy followup indeed.

Described by Finn as "a very modern mixture of prayers, love letters and personal record keeping," Sun Gangs is the natural progression after Nux Vomica. It's less wild definitely and more mature as a result. And yet with maturity can often come a bloated beast, but it has resisted the temptation to grow beyond all recognition of it's past. It is epic though, and more so than Nux. The Letter with its soaring central guitar chord hints at where this record could have gone, but it's the vision of Finn that one assumes keeps this from straying into dangerous Coldplay territory and instead it remains genuinely rousing.

The quote from Finn at the start of the last paragraph says much about this writer and the work he produces. It's real and honest and delivered with such humility. This can all be seen at the live shows - as Finn stands awkwardly at the front, profoundly flattered by the very presence of the crowd in front of him and then with the first note he recedes into a zone all his own and emerges as if in a room all alone. One of the elements that makes this band stand out form others that sit in a similar genre is the varied gradation of sonic tone that is covered throughout the record's progression. They can express such unsettling intimacy on songs like the title track - as Finn, accompanied only by a piano can drip his words from his mouth right into your ear, like it was only meant for you. He can then turn on you on songs like Killed By The Boom which recollects the nasty side of this band last seen on songs like Not Yet on Nux Vomica. Instead of dripping, Finn spits every word in your face on this song with screeching guitars and hard drum action. He also says of this song which tells the tale of a mysterious character of slightly ill repute that it is "possibly about The Wire's Omar Little." I think I can speak for my colleagues here at Chimpomatic when I say, that's all the information I need.

Three Sisters channels all this aggression into a slick and damn near perfect two and a half minutes of breakneck pop, with ukulele up front and bass and lead guitar in twin formation either side it's a formidable attack and is electrifying. As it slams on the breaks abruptly it makes room for The House She Lived In which shows Finn's undying romantic side. All of this is then thrown skyward when we hear Larkspur. This is by far the longest song here and shows a side of this band that is not only unlike any other we've seen in the other songs but one that hasn't shown its head in their whole career. This is where we see the maturity of Finn after the success of Nux Vomica. This song opens up the ribcage of his sound to expose a dauntingly cavernous and hollow interior that goes on for way further than your eyes or ears can fathom. With limited lyrics it simply sits back and watches you sweat in all this space as it slowly closes in around you. When you think it's all going to explode and launch into driving guitar bliss, it does the opposite, it recedes and reveals yet more hidden chambers. It's torturous in its resistance but utterly brilliant and enough evidence alone of Finns talent and the ground that he and his band have covered since Nux Vomica.

In short Sun Gangs may not have such stand alone gems as Advice For Young Mothers To Be or Jesus For The Jugular but as a whole plays out with consistent quality and maturity. It's got it all, love, faith, life death and the fear of all the above and is presented in a package that's impossible not to believe.

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#BC

21st Apr 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Akron/Family

Set 'Em Wild, Set 'Em Free

Dead Oceans

‘Set ‘Em Wild, Set ‘Em Free’ is Akron/Family’s follow up to 2007’s well received ‘Love Is Simple’ and their first self produced album and as a three-piece, after the departure of founding member Ryan Vanderhoof.

In the past, whilst having their obvious strengths, they have been somewhat of a demanding listen, requiring a little time and patience. Not so, with ‘Set ‘Em Wild, Set ‘Em Free’, which is by far their most accessible and immediate collection of songs to date.

So what has changed? Well, they seem to have markedly extended their record collection but rather than being swamped by their influences, they have breathed new life and freshness into their sound. The most notable aspect is the Ali Farka Toure-like guitar parts on ‘They Will Appear’ and the beautiful ‘River’.

Meanwhile, the excellent ‘Creatures’ bizarrely sounds like it could have come off Massive Attack’s ‘Mezzanine’. Whilst the trippy ‘Many Ghosts’ could sit seamlessly on Radiohead’s ‘Amnesiac’. The title track falls back into more conventional Neil Young-style territory, but the trick they managed to pull off brilliantly, is that it all sits together seamlessly and coherently.

The only (very minor) gripe is that when they do rock out, on ‘Gravelly Mountains Of The Moon’ and ‘MBF’, rather than being rousing it simply jars the ear.

It’s turning into a good year already: another very, very good record.

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#marmot

17th Apr 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Wooden Shjips

Dos

Holy Mountain

What a treat it is to sink your teeth into a new record by this San Francisco quartet. Dos is only their second full length creation, but already it feels like the band have reformed in order to bring us this due to the drip-feed stream of limited edition and self released nuggets that have circulated since their initial conception. Everything from their artwork to their uncompromisingly mesmeric sound give this band a cult tinge and Dos, more than anything they've ever done, is utterly self-indulgent bliss.

Things have changed slightly since their Vol. 1 release. The songs have got lighter and less abrasive. Their means of attack has shifted away from the long drawn out bludgeoning of songs like Shrinking Moon to a more gentle form of intoxication. The result is the same and each of the five tracks here glistens with an effervescent cool that is simply captivating. Motorbike and For So Long act as concise warm up songs with their repetitive swirling, narcotic rhythm threatening to stretch out endlessly. But that is left to Down By The Sea, a song that certainly shows that these guys can still go the distance. There are certain things you expect from certain bands and an eleven-minuter is this bands USP. After the first few minutes of this song you can almost hear it adjust its seat, shift up into a steady gear and kick back for the long haul. It rides endlessly on the same gentle rhythm but it's Eric "Ripley" Johnson's swirling guitar that does the hard work. He sounds like he's got an army of The Edges behind him as he coaxes superhuman sounds out of his instrument. They duck and dive in and out of the beat, fading to a slushy grumble sometimes then lifting to euphoric heights, but once they emerge off the back of the already submerged vocals in minute 2 they never stop until the whole song gasps its last mighty breath. It's pure muscle and one that makes the measly 6 minute Aquarian Time seem like a cool breeze. Thankfully the mightiest has been saved for last and as Fallin' stretches out for just short of eleven and a half minutes, another cruise control moment sets in. It's less muscular than Down By The Sea and is based around Nash Whalen's swirlingly, hypnotizing organ. It brings the album to quite a gentle close but as with most of this bands work it is so addictive you just want to start again.

I think Dos captures this addiction more succinctly than the other releases. It eases off the pummeling but still maintains the intensity. From the opening note you are submerged in minimal and unconditional psychedelia that makes no pretenses as to its influences but with stamina that leaves most other bands for dust they stretch out way beyond these reference points to a place all their own.

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#BC

14th Apr 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Crystal Antlers

Tentacles

Touch & Go

Hot on the heals of the re-release of their debut EP this California band drop their first full length Tentacles and as expected it's a longer, more drawn out sucker-punch. Their fierce brand of psych punk enjoys the space that a full album allows and benefits greatly from opening their sound up with instrumental compositions that take the whole twisted ship even more skyward than the previous EP already did.

But that's not to say that they shuffle their feet here. They may have more time to play with but Tentacles is just as intense, if not more so than the EP. Jonny Bell's razor shredding vocals form the backbone of this sound as they scape their grubby nails down every surface of this music. The ultimate success of Crystal Antlers is their ability to wring every drop of melody out of the sopping rags of their swirling, claustrophobic compositions. Your ears are crying no but your heart is riding the endless wave of noise.

Tentacles doesn't feel as demanding as its predecessor and that would be largely down to the fact that they have forty minutes. Songs like Your Spears and the title track encapsulate the raw power of this band with their crammed ferocity and sheer stamina but the majority of this record is way more palatable than before. Moments of breath and space are provided by songs like the opener Painless Sleep and later in the cavernous atmospherics of Vapor Trail. The rest is non stop 60's psychedelia with a razor sharp edge, in fact in a warped alternative universe Andrew would be a full on pop hit. Victor Rodriguez's organ forms the body of this narcotic shit storm that blows through the record and though the guitars squeal and wail throughout it's the melody that wrestles its way out of this twisted, living and breathing organism.

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8th Apr 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Themselves

theFREEhoudini Mixtape

Anticon

Ahead of this summer's comeback album CrownsDown Themselves have dropped this 39 minute mixtape and it's free to download. If you cast your mind back to when Real Madrid ruled the football world with their dream team line up, this mixtape would be the hip hop equivalent. Featuring contributions from a host of Anticon dudes like Yoni Wolf, Sole and Pedestrian plus hip hop's alternative elite like Buck 65, Aesop Rock, Slug and Busdriver. The whole thing is also tied up in a nice little bow by Odd Nosdam who mixes it all.

But despite all the se names it's the two main players that drive this and make it a non stop bullet train of beats and rhymes. Jel's beats are heavy and come at you like a techno storm. They swirl into each other morphing and changing organically according to the MC that has stepped up. Dose One steals the show as expected with his lightning tongue flickering with lyrical brilliance. The way they have both progressed their other band Subtle is a major influence here as multi layered compositions are constructed. Programmed beats mix with regular old school as Dose's vocals shape shift from being mumbled backing texture to his twisted pixie rhymes that dart out of the texture as gleaming bullets. The mixtape format gives it a nice old school feel and each MC comes into play with great fluidity. Buck 65 gets a gloriously booming beat to play with, Aesop's deep delivery sits perfectly with Dose's high pitched voice and as Nosdam brings in Yoni Wolf the cLOUDDEAD circle becomes complete for the first time in too long and it sure feels good.

It's been ten years since this group first emerged and six since their last record and this generous 39 minutes of perfect prose is a fine return to form. Featuring the 7 original members of the Anticon collective it really sums up this labels history and their current standing as one of hip hop's finest labels. The fact that this is free makes it irrisistable, like I needed any other reason to hear these boys play again.

You can download the whole thing here (for the next 90 85 days only!) or pay out for a limited CD version that features an extra 16 minutes of audio.

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#HHG

6th Apr 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Richard Swift

The Atlantic Ocean

Secretly Canadian

Firstly, I have to eat a little humble pie, for the lukewarm review of Richard Swift’s last album ‘Dressed Up For The Letdown’, which turned out to be something of a grower, sounding better and better with repeated plays.

After the unpolished garage rock of last years excellent ‘Richard Swift as Onasis’ comes his next album proper ‘The Atlantic Ocean’. Swift describes the sound as ‘Prince sitting in on John Lennon’s Plastic Ono Band’ and is actually a pretty good analogy of what’s going on here, especially on the title track and ‘The Original Thought.'

However Swift is far from a one trick pony and mixes up his influences nicely; the catchy ‘The First Time’ has a touch of the Wilco about it (Swift recorded the album in their loft after meeting Jeff Tweedy on Later With Jools Holland), where as the excellent ‘Bat Coma Motown’ is pure Harry Nilsson.

A slight disappointment is that many of the best songs here already appeared on last years ‘Ground Trouble Jaw’ EP. ‘A Song For Milton Feher’ manages to be insanely catchy after only couple of bars and the closing ‘Lady Luck’, points to where Swift might be going next. With simple and soulful motown style backing, Swift demonstrate a whole other unexplored side to his vocal range.

‘The Atlantic Ocean’ is utterly listenable and cements Swift as a talent to watch, it will be interesting to see where he goes now.

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#marmot

3rd Apr 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Decemberists

The Hazards Of Love

Rough Trade

Since I first discovered this band I have been prepared to follow Captain Meloy and his magnificent vessel The Decemberists to anywhere they chose to take me. Particularly on their breakthrough album Picaresque and their (US) major label debut The Crane Wife the going wasn't always easy but endlessly rewarding. Having played the heart out of this latest offering I have arrived at a point beyond which I am not willing to follow.

The Hazards Of Love is a concept driven rock opera of sorts, inspired by a 60's recording by the same name and it's hard work to say the least. Don't get me wrong, Colin Meloy is incapable of writing anything that is devoid of rewards and there are plenty here but as a whole its sights are set way too firmly on ambition and not enough on song craft. Throughout its 17 tracks it attempts to tell the story of a fair maiden called Margaret who, after her abduction seems to be ravished by a shape-shifting demon. There's a jealous queen, a homicidal villain known as 'the rake' and a particularly disturbing tale where Meloy assumes the character of a child murderer taking out each of his kids one by one so he can be free again.

The Crane Wife marked a definite shift in the intentions of this band and I suppose an album such as this was always on the cards. After moving to a major label their sound grew to epic proportions and took their folk roots into rockier territory. This growth has come to a head with The Hazards Of Love. Running for just short of an hour each of the 17 songs blend seamlessly into one another creating a musical feel to the album. Melodies and choruses recur throughout the record which actually make you feel like you're listening to one huge bloated creation. Its ambition is beyond question but this continuous structure is tiresome.

The title track sets the scene of Margaret's temptation and subsequent abduction with typical Meloy delicacy. The first blend from this track into A Bower Scene marks the first indication that you are listening to something different from this band. Up tempo drums count it in and then after a vocal build you have the crunching weight of guitars. It's a hard rock belt in the face that you certainly weren't expecting and one that rears its mighty head more than once on this record. It makes room for the first guest spot on Won't Want For Love (Margaret In The Taiga), which features Lavender Diamond's Becky Stark. Playing the now pregnant Margaret, her sweet vocals breath blissful life and vulnerability into these hard riffs. The second of these guest appearance comes a little later with the riff-heavy The Wanting Comes In Waves. It features My Brightest Diamond's Shara Worden playing the part of the Queen bartering for the soul of Margaret's beloved WIlliam. This crazy theme is the last thing you think about as the teaming of thee two voices is a delight. This is by no means the only moment of such delight, they are plentiful and none so great as on Annan Water, a tense affair built on taught strumming that builds ever so slowly and then opens up and lets Meloy's vocals expand on a gentle organ breeze then dive back into the tension once more with expert ease.

Narrative has always been at the forefront of Meloy's work. Never does his writing serve the role of mere love songs but are meticulously crafted out of antique language and expert turn of phrase. Picaresque's The Mariner's Revenge Song is one of Meloy's finest moments and shows his skill for telling a tale. The penultimate stroke on The Crane Wife lurched from one tempo to another with Led Zeppelin like confidence. In hindsight both these songs provide the blueprint for The Hazards Of Love and though many of these new songs stand equally as tall as these previous gems it's the album as a whole that I am critisising. I spend most of my time aching for a band to have the balls to stretch a song out beyond the 7 minute mark and after the first 3 songs of this record I thought my answer had come. But the constant musical stream and the convoluted and often utterly confusing narrative weigh this down and really start to grate after the half way mark. They always had a slightly fucked up Andrew Lloyd Webber feel to their creations but somehow managed to steer their ship away in time. This album embraces that side and it's infuriating as some songs in there own right are quite special, it's nearly impossible to find a fault to justify the mediocre score you see on the left. So on that note I stand here and watch this great ship sail off into the distance without me and quietly hope and pray that someday it will pass by here again and pick me up. I wish them well.

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#BC

30th Mar 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Swan Lake

Enemy Mine

Jagjaguwar

Comprised of members of Wolf Parade and The New Pornographers and originally operating under the name ‘Thunder Cloud’, Canada’s Swan Lake underwent a name change upon discovering their first choice was already taken (although not by Steven Segal who had already bagged ‘Thunderbox‘) and released a debut album, Beast Moans in 2006. So named, because its sound reminded band member Spencer Krug of  “…a bear dying in a tar pit.” Beast Moans was a mash-up of the trio’s very differing approach to song writing, layers of melodies and styles thrown into the mix to see what came out.

With new album Enemy Mine (Named after the 80's Science Fiction film starring Dennis Quaid) the band made a more concerted effort on tighter collaboration and although certainly more pleasant on the ear than an animal dying slowly, it is still in no great hurry to be taken home and cared for. Thanks largely to the spoken/sung style of other band member Daniel Bejar (Carey Mercer makes up the trio) Enemy Mine comes across as quite abrasive on first listen. It plays out like a collection of scenes from a musical. And a musical that takes itself quite seriously to boot. Which would be ok if any of the lyrics stood out and got you thinking, but on the first few listens it just sounds like a literary stream of consciousness, this from ‘Heartswam’ being my favourite so far:

“I was coming off something particularly strong, you had your gloves on, they looked fucking brutal”.

And I say so far, because I’m convinced Enemy Mine is going to get better. It’s three creators clearly didn’t make it to be picked up on the commute to work and put down with the coffee. There’s a lot more going on here than I can take in, during the few listens I’ve had - so I’m advancing it half a star in credit from its initial 2.5 score. It’s not an album I’m desperate to adopt, but neither is it one I’m ready to throw to the tarpits. Yet.

(As a side note, they originally were going to call the album ‘Before the Law’ after a Franz Kafka parable, but were tired of being constantly referred to as ‘literary’. I thought I’d help them out with this by lowering the brow a touch with name-checks to Steven Seagal and Dennis Quaid.)

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#chimpovich

27th Mar 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Rank Deluxe

You Decide

Fat Cat

This album sounds like a great deal of work has gone into it; the songs are interesting, the instruments are all played nice and tight, and the production sounds really full and clear, but I have to confess I'm struggling with it because of the vocals. The Rank Deluxe offer up a confident and thoughtfully crafted album full of indie rock which should, by rights, gain them a lot of attention and maybe some airplay. Once again, it's the sound of early 80's post-punk which informs the band's sound, and in the Rank Deluxe's case the influence seems to be both The Ruts and The Beat (bands with a tad more intelligence and creativity than many of their counterparts). The guitar playing stands out - a tight and schooled American approach to indie rock along the lines of Albert Hammond Jr, and the rhythm section is totally on the case with snappy disco rhythms and reggae influenced basslines. So where does it all go wrong? For me, the stumbling block is the vocals - singers Richard Buchanan and Lewis Dyer have made the decision to sing in a resolutely cockney accent, which is no doubt their own speaking voices. They both have good powerful voices, excellent range and accuracy, but the upfront nature of the glottal-stops, flattened vowels and dropped H's detract in no small way from the band's music.

I'm sure it's an approach the band must be happy with - an unambiguous declaration that The Rank Deluxe are a London band - with colours nailed securely to the mast. This may win them some fans because singing in your own accent is somehow more "real" but could limit their appeal to audiences north of Watford, or on the other side of the Atlantic. Lyrically solid, musically adventurous and sonically charged, the album has few low-spots and works better on tracks like Innocence where the cockneyisms are less emphatic and more relaxed. Basically, this is what Hard-Fi would sound like if they were any good - and one or two listens will make your mind up. I won't be listening to it much, but I have found myself humming the melody of Doll Queue all week, so they must be doing something right.

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#HarrisPilton

24th Mar 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Gentleman Reg

Jet Black

Arts & Crafts

Good things have been emerging from the Canadian music scene over the last few years; Arcade Fire, Broken Social Scene, Wolf Parade… Nickelback. This month sees the arrival of Gentleman Reg (Reg Vermue), whose debut UK album, ‘Jet Black’ arrives here on Broken Social Scene's Arts & Crafts label.

‘Jet Black’ opens with plenty of cascading guitars, honky-tonk piano and thumping percussion, which initially brings to mind something of Ben Folds. As the album progresses, however, things take a few abrupt turns. At intervals Reg seems to invite the likes of Belle and Sebastian, Rufus Wainright and even the Scissor sisters along to the party.

At the heart of this album two songs settle Gentleman Reg most comfortably into a landscape of synthesiser heavy, electro-pop. ‘We’re in a Thunderstorm’ and ‘Falling Back’ had me convinced I was listening to the confections of Gallic-pop-combo, Phoenix. Even the lazy way Reg slurs his lyrics suggests a fraudulently French approach to the art of singing in English.

Apparently Reg, ‘has made his sexuality a matter of public record’ and is ‘regularly involved in Gay Pride events’, which strikes me as a curious thing to feel the need to emphasise in pre-release publicity. Half the time, I admit, I didn’t have a clue what the record was making public through its garble of mumbled lyrics, but the music can be dangerously catchy. Occasionally whimsical, more often upbeat, it’s sweet tasting and fluorescent. Certainly not ‘Jet Black’.

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#LG

23rd Mar 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet