Chimpomatic

Neil Young

Sugar Mountain Live At Canterbury House 1968

Warner Bros

Great entry in the ongoing Neil Young archive marathon. This set's taken from a solo gig he played soon after walking out on Buffalo Springfield in 1968 to see if, you know, he'd be able to hack it as a solo artist or not...

Full of lots of bits of chat - talking about growing his hair; what he gets from writing songs ("you know, besides residuals"); introducing "new ones" and Springfield hits like Mr Soul (which apparently "took only five minutes to write - and it takes only five minutes to sing. If you can think of any words I should change after I finish, be sure and let me know!"); playing tantalising little excerpts of others like Winterlong without actually going into it (maybe he hadn't written the words yet); talking about his time working in a Toronto book store (he got fired for "irregularity" - some "really great diet pills" were involved...); and generally perfecting that fragile acoustic sound that we know and love... 

Won't necessarily win over any new fans, but if you're on board the Young train (or electric car) you'll enjoy it. Completists should note that it won't be included in 2009's bumper Neil Young Archives Vol. 1 (1963 – 1972) 10-disc Blu-ray and DVD package.

Tracklist:

Emcee Introduction 
On The Way Home
Songwriting Rap
Mr Soul
Recording Rap
Expecting To Fly
Last Trip To Tulsa
Bookstore Rap
Loner
I Used To Rap
Birds
Winterlong/Out Of My Mind
Out Of My Mind
If I Could Have Her Tonight
Classical Gas Rap
Sugar Mountain
Sugar Mountain
I've Been Waiting For You
Songs Rap
Nowadays Clancy Can't Even Sing
Tuning Rap/The Old Laughing Lady
Old Laughing Lady
Broken Arrow

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28th Nov 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Guns 'N Roses

Chinese Democracy

Polydor

So it's finally a reality, the album no one, least of all Dr. Pepper (that's not what a company needs in a credit crunch), thought would ever materialise. But it has and as expected it has brought with it the tidal wave of opinions that accompany every move Axl Rose makes. Listening to, and to a much greater extent, forming an opinion about Chinese Democracy is damn near impossible while employing your regular critical faculties. It's hard to compare it to previous Guns N' Roses material, seeing as their last studio album was 17 years ago and Axl is the only original member left. And Axl's dominating presence on the record is the only thing linking it to the previous work, as musically it is a different band all together and fiercely contemporary. It would be a different story if Axl had disappeared for 14 years and now reemerged with a comeback album in order to pay some bills, but as we all know that is not the case here. By all accounts he hasn't done anything else but make this record for 14 years, so to review it is like reviewing history and seeing as I am a long way from where I was 14 years ago it's hard to know if I'm disappointed in Chinese Democracy or if I lost interest in its concept a long time ago.

With this record Axl Rose reveals himself as the Colonel Kurtz of the rock world, or actually of the whole world. Lost long ago, way up the river of obsession and self-delusion, he works beyond the boundaries of reason endlessly creating things that mirror himself. In this likeness comes Chinese Democracy, drifting out of the mist from a place no man has gone, a bloated monstrosity so impressive in size and construction and displaying elements of genius but often swaying with uneasy insecurities. And like Joseph Conrad's character you stare back at him with awe, dazzled by the ambition but all the time filled with terror at the mind that could conceive of such a creation.

Excess has always followed Axl Rose both in his music and his lifestyle. Use Your Illusion was flawed, but few have managed to pull off the double album like he did back in 1991. It too was an over-ambitious project that was filled with fat, over-stuffed, gluttonous songs that aimed for the stars with every note. They often failed but it was hard to fault a band that had produced such perfect punk-rock ferocity in Appetite For Destruction only to set a rocket under all that and change forever what any fan had thought or appreciated about them before. All the signs were there that this was going to be a vastly out of proportion project. Axl has always tended towards the epic and with songs like November Rain and Estranged we saw his gigantic vision expressed, but then with songs like Coma we saw how it could all get out of hand. It's no surprise then that left to his own devices and devoid of the more direct guidance of Izzy Stradlin and Duff McKagan that Axl would be free to express his tendency to swell each song out of all proportion and cram as many elements into every second of his sound. This is the main critisism here but then it was always going to be.

Underneath the colossal weight of production you can hear some great songwriting. The title track opens the album with some force and with his Mr. Brownstone growl, Axl reinstates himself in our lives and it's good to have him back. As expected, Better is the high point of the album. It's a real powerhouse of a song and shows us how far this songwriter has brought his sound and yet at the same time shows glimpses of the feral energy that got us all hooked in the first place. It also shows how different the guitar playing is now compared to the melodic skyward playing of Slash. It's much harder on this record and the way the guitars chug with the force of a freight train on Better affirms that this is a totally different band than before. Shackler's Revenge sees the same guitar train chug but then unravels into an epileptic guitar solo the like of which this band have never provided in the past. Then there's the impressive Catcher In The Rye or the bewildering Street Of Dreams...enough...this has to stop. Having scratched the surface of what makes this record work I see before me, in my mental landscape, a vast chasm of points I feel the need to express, this must be what Axl lives with on a daily basis, and much like this records history any reviewer faces the same temptation to keep writing and writing. So with that in mind I move swiftly and brutally on to the concluding paragraph.

Ultimately, Chinese Democracy poses more questions on its arrival than it did as a myth. All the way through I find myself scratching my head in puzzlement at some of the bizarre twists and turns that Axl takes his band through. But I don't know if this confusion is down to the fact that I too am 14 years older. My formative years were spent with this band blasting in my ears and I can't say that I was chomping at the bit to get another taste. Few things on this earth are worth waiting such a long time for, except maybe actual Chinese Democracy, so now that it is here I can't say I am disappointed, all I can say is that I don't think I really like it but I do think that it's pretty good. The bright light that is Axl Rose has in no way dimmed as a result of this release, it hasn't tarnished the moments of perfection that soundtracked my younger days and all-in-all it's a very impressive event.

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24th Nov 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Friendly Fires

Friendly Fires

XL Recordings

This infectious debut from the St Albans trio was overlooked at first by my discerning ears, but has slowly seeped into my consciousness and is now a regular feature in my life. I think the initial reason for its rejection was its obvious references and slightly annoying upbeat jaunt. Taking their influences from mainstream dance sounds, 80's new wave, German techno and the classic pop hooks of Prince they make a sound that fuses expansive shoegaze indie sensibilities with driving beats and the result is surprisingly interesting.

Lyrically they are hardly taking by the throat the more weighty topics that challenge us today - themes of jumping in a pool and dreaming about moving to Paris are among some of the issues addressed here - but this hardly matters. Front man Ed Macfarlane's vocals soar like blazing rockets over the lush, synth-washed sonic background. On stage he shakes and gyrates spasmodically with top button firmly fastened on his crisp shirt like a modern day Ian Curtis, but he controls much of the synth sounds and forms the epicenter of this formation. They seem to do what Bloc Party used to do but without the contrived self-awareness. With tales of losing yourself on the dancefloor, many of the songs cleverly reference some classic pillars of house music. On Board is the most blatant as it begins with what could be a TV On The Radio sound but feeds in the baseline from The Source feat Candi Staton's You've Got The Love, while later on Skeleton Boy has the subverted feel of 90's dance hit You're Not Alone.

The longevity of an album such as this remains in question. Music that makes you feel this good must be full of evil trickery that will eventually reveal itself and leave the spell broken - but for now, I'm lovin' it.

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19th Nov 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Lord Dog Bird

The Lord Dog Bird

Jagjaguwar

The Lord Dog Bird is the solo alter ego of Colin McCann - the guitarist in the band Wilderness (review of their new album to follow) - and it was recorded at home on a 4-track by the spookily voiced Lord Colin himself. Sparse scratchy droning guitar, vocals and simple drums are the main ingredients here. This bare and basic sound adds authenticity and power to both voice and word. The atmosphere is a heavy claustrophobic mix of fear, honesty, and a tinge of optimism.

There is, though, a sense that these tunes are works in progress torn from a scrapbook. The similarity of the songs (both the sound and the composition), the presence of a couple of noodly instrumentals and the lo-fi nature of the whole piece gives it an unfinished feel. That said there are two exceptional tracks on here that elevate the whole damn thing:

“March To The Mountain” takes us on a compelling journey where the drums punch in to drive an urgent sense of being up against it. The words sound better delivered than written, but I like the way the end of the/my world is nigh gets expressed: “The sky is up above - the melting snow of love - and every rivers clogged - and you can’t find the sun.” The twin vocals on “The Gift Of Song In The Lions Den” add a haunting tone to this driven song that…Oh – bugger it – download and have a listen for yourself here.

This rather enjoyable 9 track album, released by the solidly rostered jagjaguwar label, was recorded when the main act were on an extended hiatus. Now, it might turn out that he has worked tirelessly to create this, his magnum opus, but I wonder if it might have reached a greater level of opus-ness if worked on for a bit longer.

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12th Nov 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Underbelly

FX UK

Interesting spin on the suburban gangster story, looking at ten years in the life of an Australian mob family: think Neighbours meets the Sopranos. Lots of leisurewear, barbies, and E-pressing machines running all night in houses you could imagine Kath and Kim living next door to. 

With a high incidence of death for characters throughout the series, it's something of a hard sell - you don't know who's going to stay the distance, so you can't get as attached as we could with the Bada Bing crew. But after a few episodes it takes on its own flavour, showing the loose connections between the mobsters, and their volatile, casual flip between life and death. The cops chasing them emerge too - with a grizzly by-the-book chief (who likes to bake his own shortbread).

For fans of recent Aussie shows, the cast have been in everything from The Secret Life Of Us, Heartbreak High and yes, Home And Away and Neighbours...

When it was shown in Australia, some of the court cases involving the real gang members were still pending, so they banned it in the state of Victoria, which all sounds pretty unworkable. 

NIce to see FX - home of The Wire, Breaking Bad and Burn Notice etc - spreading their reach to bring us other shows worth watching from around the world. Can't help thinking they've really made the terrestrials in the UK look lazy in the last few years.

#TV
#chimp71

10th Nov 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Arctic Monkeys

At The Apollo

Domino / Warp Films

With a couple of hit albums under their belts and the band already distracted by side projects, the obligatory live video seems to be one way of maintaining the Arctic Monkeys status - documenting their monster Worst Nightmare tour, which culminated with this show at the Manchester Apollo in December 2007.

Left-field production company Warp Film may be behind the production, but filming wise it's a pretty straightforward affair, with a couple of camera on tracks, a few roaming grainy numbers and pretty much just the stage lighting. A decent effort has gone into the post-production, with a Burt Bacharach/Thomas Crown style intro and outro, and the occasional burst of split screen.

It's a fairly faultless performance from the Monkeys, featuring a pretty conventional set-list waith all the highlights in all the expected places (Teddy Picker, When The Sun Goes Down, 505). There's little banter from the band, pretty much whittling the whole production down to little more than a slightly cooler that normal edition of a T4 concert special. For fans of the band this may be essential viewing, but for any body else it servers as little more than a decent document of what this band were up to, at this particular point in time.

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5th Nov 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

A Place To Bury Strangers

A Place To Bury Strangers

Rocket Girl

Often hailed as New York's loudest band, A Place To Bury Strangers unleash an impenetrable wave of noise with this solid debut. This is feedback-drenched garage rock that exudes muscle with every song. Their influences can certainly be heard through the fog with My Bloody Valentine and Jesus And Mary Chain being the most obvious but through the course of the record this sound becomes all their own.

Fusing clattering beats, driving, effect-dripping guitar and deeply buried vocals APTBS create a wall of sound that slowly advances toward you like the walls of a dank, creaking chamber. The speed with which this advance takes place varies greatly but the consistent element is its towering presence. Opener Missing You lays down a foundation of guitar that sounds like its being played through gravel but is brought to electrifying life by the lead guitar melody that soars over the top. To Fix The Gash In Your Head builds on a layer of programed beats that come at you like a machine gun. The contrast between this muscular music and the slow, muted and Joy Division-like monotone of Oliver Ackermann is the defining feature and as he calculatedly plots "i'll just wait for you to turn around, and kick your face in," the result is quite arresting. The Falling Sun ploughs a different course, that of painfully slow yet astral grandeur, but the destination is the same.

Like San Francisco's Wooden Shjips, APTBS have one setting and that is BIG but the fascinating thing about this debut is hearing them use this setting to treat various tempos and scales. On the awesome Breathe it's quite mesmerizing to hear this vast sound being employed in a steady, rhythmical way, it's like watching a giant handle a feather.

This record is like unearthing an 80's shoegaze classic that' been buried for years under a mountain of noise. It swirls with narcotic mesmerism and while the spell works its evil magic your head is slowly caved in with terrifying accuracy. Whether they come at you slow or pound your face to dust as quick as lightning the result is total annihilation. It's good stuff.

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4th Nov 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Breaking Bad

Season One

Showtime/FX

Engrossing take on the mid-life crisis drama. Bryan Cranston is a revelation as the high school science teacher who's taken a dive off the deep end after being diagnosed with lung cancer, setting up a meth lab out in the desert with one of his drop-out pupils. 

Always thought he was pretty great in Malcolm In The Middle (one of the most underrated sitcoms of the last ten years) - here, he proves he's capable of real dramatic depth too, with a totally convincing performance. It's one of those rare shows that contains moments of silence, at times simply content to let you read his face to understand the range of turmoil he's dealing with. It's also an exercise in transformation. As the cancer takes hold, and he get deeper and deeper into the underbelly of American drug culture to pay off his mounting medical bills, and leave something for his family, you see a surprising sense of empowerment float over him as he realises he has less and less to lose.

If you're a MITM fan, it's hard not to hang out waiting for a joke to come - and there is humour here, but it's pretty dark stuff - acid burning through floors, home-brewed explosives disguised as drugs, short-fused gangsters flipping out at the slightest provocation, meth-fuelled paranoid tweaking behind suburban curtains etc. The first season only runs to seven episodes too - easy to commit to, but you'll miss it when it's over. Roll on S2.

#TV
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31st Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Blitzen Trapper

Furr

Sub Pop

Since Wild Mountain Nation, this Portland band's 2007 critically acclaimed album, there has been much talk about the brazen diversity of the lo-fi gems that littered that record, the way it lurched from avant-guard guitar noise to dreamy country heartbreakers. So it's surprising and refreshing to get this follow-up which seems to turn its back on much of that praise and is a crystal clear exploration of everything from 70's rock legends like The Grateful Dead and The Byrds to all the roots country melody that preceded that. They still embody the Beck sense of experiment but have made a decisive choice as to which elemnt of the previous record they wish to develope.

Furr is way more consistant than Wild Mountain Nation and though it lacks the debuts experimental flare it makes up for it in its ability to roll out songs that range from the wilderness-wandering soul of Stolen Shoes & A Rifle and the psych-rock skyrockets of Fire And Fast Bullets. The charm of Blitzen Trapper is that they are so heavily embedded in a rootsy/country sound but are, at the end of the day, an indie rock group who have grown up with the DIY mentality of bands like Pavement. Put all this together and the result is a sound that wears its influences proudly on its sleeve but at the same time manages to disguise them beautifully.

Much of Wild Mountain Nation seemed to filter Eric Earley's vocals through effects that kept it distant, yet here it is brought to the forefront and is gleamingly clear and intimate. Furr excells because the lo-fi elemnt is kept at a minimum and the intention here is to make complete songs that ooze atmosphere with their embracing of Dylan style narrative as in the story of muder and revenge in Black River Killer. Dusty landscapes roll out infront of songs like these, landscapes that hold in refuge all sorts of fugatives and runnaways. Slide guitar tumbles along, accompanied by the gentle acoustic strum, but the two can just as easily be interupted by swirling, narcottic guitar and playful yet decrepit keyboards. This musical mix and Earley's sometimes soulful and sometimes shrieking vocal delivery seem to ask more questions than they answer and yet it's in these questions that Furr's ultimate success lies. In lesser hands an album such as this would be of no use to the world but amongst its solid songs loiters an unruly side that will keep you coming back for more.

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29th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

O'Death

Broken Hymns, Limbs And Skin

City Slang

Having developed quite a reputation for their furious live performances this New York quintet have repeatedly fallen short of this unbridled excitement when it comes to their recordings. Enlisting the help of producer Alex Newport for this, their followup to 2007's Head Home, Broken Hymns, Limbs And Skin maintains their bloodthirsty edge but injects a twisted celebratory fervor that brings it in line with the stage experience but also makes it tough listening.

O'Death ooze nineteenth-century americana with all its tragedy and folk lore and with weeping fiddle, jaunty banjo and homemade drum kits they create an image of blue-grass country music being mutilated in the hungry jaws of a feral, gypsy-punk panic. The album is relentless in it's pace and fury and displays an underlying sense of longing and the inevitability of death. But there is also a feeling of jubilation that, rather than coming from a place of hope, displays an acceptance of the inevitable and a reveling in this resolution. It's an orgy of self-mutilating rapture that lurches from one change of pace to another with total abandon and those without the same resolution will find an unsettling sense of doom and viciousness.

Much of the tension can rest at the door of front man Greg Jamie - who's voice has the manic wail of a man insane. From the opening whirlwind of Low Tide to the closing gallop of Lean-To Jamie's urgent delivery sounds like a gap-toothed hillbilly yelling words of condemnation to accusers as he stands at the gallows, head in noose. On Home Jamie's vocals ease off on the grit and drip with Neil Young sweetness but as he starts to shriek "find a sacred resting place where the pecking hens wont harm the eyes," the latter half of the song descends into blood dripping fury. His growl is contorted like a Tom Waits narrative on the ramshackle On An Aching Sea while Grey Sun moans and creaks with pent up melancholy as Jamie's doom-filled words of wisdom spread darkness to all in earshot.

O'Death make no attempt to hide any influences that might have contributed to their sound, bands like Violent Femmes and the murder ballads of The Handsome Family can all be heard here, but the unrelenting sense of doom and the glee in which the band revel in it seems to swallow up any point of reference as soon as it emerges. The result is a truly unique creation albeit hard to swallow. Songs like Angeline, with its uncharacteristic sweetness and softness, are few and far between and offer much needed respite from the storm and I can't help feeling that had there been more moments like this Broken Limbs would be a more well balanced record and much easier to get on with. I'm well aware that to make art more palatable for the audience at the expense of the concept is a mortal sin but while I can certainly appreciate the quality and single-mindedness of this record I can't see it getting much air time on my stereo.

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#BC

28th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Decemberists

Always The Bridesmaid: A Singles Series Volume I

Rough Trade

As a rule we don't usually bother with singles reviews but this is a special case. Firstly, as it involves the next move from this Portland band since their awesome The Crane Wife and secondly, as this single's release, when put with the other two volumes that will follow it, will form a seven song EP of new songs that didn't quite make the final cut for the forthcoming LP.

Volume I consists of Valerie Plame and O New England. Both are exactly what you'd expect from this band with no surprises but the song to get excited about is definitely Valerie Plame. It's a jaunty little number consisting of brisk banjo, comedy backing vocals, an almost Hey Jude second half and a shameless use of the tuba that will make you link your thumbs into your braces and bob up and down to the rhythm. But what is typical of the work of Colin Meloy is that the song is an amorous tribute to the onetime CIA operative whose cover was blown in a newspaper column. As if continuing the story first explored in Picaresque's The Bagman's Gambit, this song is written from the point of view of one of Plame's inside contacts and is a tale of love found in the most unlikely of places. As is the B side O New England which floats on a much smoother breeze but while being a delightful song might get lost on a full length record.

Volume II, featuring Days Of Elaine, Days Of Elaine (Long) and the curious I'm Sticking With You is released on November 4 and Volume III, consisting of Record Year and Raincoat Song will be with us on December 2. All come gloriously packaged as 12" vinyl and are sure to bridge the gap between now and the next album.

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23rd Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Shred Yr Face Tour - Times New Viking, No Age, Los Campesinos

Electric Ballroom, London. 20/10/08

I'm sure I speak for a large population of this city when I say I hate queuing, I hate the rain and I hate Camden. So standing in a whopping great queue on a rainy Monday night on Camden high street isn't my idea of the perfect way to start the week. There aren't many things at the end of this queue that would make these set of circumstances worthwhile but the opportunity to see this collection of bands certainly seemed worth the discomfort endured. Sadly it wasn't as easy as that. The queue was so big that Times New Viking were all but done as I entered the venue and Los Campesinos annoyed the hell out of me. Thankfully No Age made up for all of it and the star rating you see on your left is largely made up from their performance.

To be honest the LA duo of Randy Randall and Dean Spunt were who I really came to see. Their album Nouns has been the most played for me this year and to see them recreate that DIY sound on stage was well worth the misery that Camden can inflict. And the boys certainly didn't disappoint. From the first note their sound boomed out and resounded around the room with a commanding force. For such a small outfit they can certainly make a noise and the variation of sounds that power out of their two instruments and the odd sampling device defies the sight of the two kids that stand before you. Randy's guitar can assume the roaming jangle of This Should Be My Home, the carefree strum of Ripped Knees or stoop to the deep metallic grind of Boy Void and all the time he's accompanied by the force that is Dean's non-stop drum workout. There's little movement on stage but the sound is so commanding.

Much of Nouns was given a thorough pillaging with stand out moments being Eraser, Teen Creeps, Cappo and Sleeper Hold. The choice cuts from Weirdo Rippers stood shoulder to shoulder with their newer brethren with the finale being given over to a fantastic rendition of Everybody's Down. Thinking they had played their last song much of the crowd drifted towards the bar only for a red light to descend on the stage and the slight figure of Dean Spunt atop a speaker, mic in hand. Away from his drums for the first time he launched into the contorted vocal intro. After this a flashing strobe blinded the crowd and when it lifted Dean was back at the drum kit and the crashing second half ensued with chugging guitar and cymbals firing out with total abandon.

The ease and who-gives-a-shit nature with which No Age churn out their set make a formation like Los Campesinos! appear slightly too much and though they commanded the crowd from the word go they seemed very aware of themselves in comparison. A line-up like this will undoubtedly divide the audience and many seemed to have come for the fuzz and grind of the first two bands and a whole new crowd drafted in for the last act. This crowd were all set for dancing and as the signature tune of Death To Los Campesinos! started up the adoring fans got exactly what they wanted. I, however, had come for a head pummeling and got what I wanted from No Age and the tail end of Times New Viking so the multi-instrumental 7-man line up that stood on stage now did very little for me. Putting the 'camp' into Campesinos this band of merry musicians had more than enough of a following so off I retreated to the 'merch' desk to see if there was any No Age stuff I didn't already have. Sadly there wasn't so it was back into the rain for me.

#Music
#Gig
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22nd Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Fucked Up

The Chemistry Of Common Life

Matador

The word "fuck" has become more acceptable throughout the "noughties", leading to bands casually incorporating this once offensive descriptive word. Not too far in the distant past I recall a dreadful funk metal band having to drop the fuck from their name to be replaced with funk; it was fortunate that their songs featured a sprinkling of slap bass. We currently have a batch of bands that incorporate fuck but this does not necessarily define the band to fit a obvious category of music, for example Fuck Buttons and Holy Fuck. Fucked Up in contrast are far more blatant with their intent: they are what it states on the tin - or in this instance on the album cover.

Having spent my teenage years influenced by then present and past performers of hardcore, both Minor Threat and Guerrilla Biscuits are two bands that I still listen to and have great affection for. It has on occasion briefly crossed my mind if any bands had emerged and managed to give this genre a kiss of life - unfortunately Fucked Up fall flat on their angry faces.

Hailing from Toronto, Fucked Up have been banging out their high brow hardcore since 2002, releasing numerous singles and producing energetic memorable live performances. Kicking off their second full length album with a pointless eighties thrash album tactic of beginning a song with a flute or a gentle tinkle of piano keys which is predictably kicked aside with the subtly of a hammer. As an indication of how unadventurous and dull The Chemistry Of Common Life is, the first few seconds are the highlight.

It is annoying to hear a supposedly aggressive band sound so boring. The guitars sound weak and lack any energy or ferocity, vocalist Pink Eyes (all the band have wacky names) is very reminiscent of Nick Sakes from the Dazzling Killmen which is a comparison to a more complex and far superior band.

Fucked Up did make me annoyed but that was due to having to listen to such offensively inoffensive music.

#Music
#R.Hammerstein

22nd Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Desalvo

Mood Poisoner

Rock Action

Desalvo's lead 'singer' P6 wears a Kevlar vest on stage, the cover to their debut album pictures two nuns with ball gags in their mouths and the album is brought to a close with a song called Cock Swastika. All of the above should tell you that this isn't a band that tried out for X Factor this year. Desalvo hail from Glasgow and spew out the most abrasive, feral sound that ranges from the seminal noise of metalcore artists Converge to the brutal compositions of concept-metallers like Mastadon.

Mood Poisoner is a full throttle rape of your ears and never lets up for its short and yet ample 35 minute duration. With driving percussion and guitar chords that drill, unopposed into the sanctuary of your head, Desalvo's debut is unrelenting - and yet out of this overwhelming blast comes a feeling of boredom. Yes it's uncompromising, but its message and overall power is compromised by the lack of variety in its delivery. P6's vocals are like a band saw stuck in the 'on' position and with his high pitch scream I can't help being reminded of the Young Ones.

I know the band will probably come and kill me in my sleep for saying this but I'll take my chances.

#Music
#BC

21st Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Stills

Oceans Will Rise

Arts & Crafts

Oceans Will Rise sees Montreal rockers The Stills return with a third album, and a new home - on Broken Social Scene's Toronto-based Arts & Crafts label.

Bombastic opener Don't Look Down seems like a radio-friendly introduction for what to expect from this album, as it's gently pounding drums and keyboard chug things along - with a catchy chorus and a well-oiled guitar solo. Snow In California continues the radio-freindly sounds, and I feel I've been misled.

The record label and album art might portray them as another bunch of hard rocking Canadians, but there's little here to recommend to the Black Mountain-loving, Kokanee drinking plainsman. Like Pablo Honey-era Radiohead, these guys have always sounded like they have the potential to sell out hit the big time, and that sentiment is only re-inforced here. Through tracks like the anthemic Eastern Europe or Dinosaurs the band seem to have one eye on the stadium rock prize, with a slickly produced and ambitious record. There's a place for all that of course, just not my place.

Oceans Will Rise rolls with the punches here and there and while there's certainly some beef to the sound here and there (Roobius), it's just so polished that it offers little new or engaging. While the lyrics and meaning of the album might be laced with doom and gloom - it all gets lost in the eminently catchy tracks and glossy production.

#Music
#CSF

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

Bonnie 'Prince' Billy With Harem Scarem and Alex Neilson

Is It The Sea?

Domino

‘They’re really great live…’ people often insist, when I appear unconvinced by their particular musical offering. It is true that a live recording often reveals the real character of a band; there is an immediacy which can lift the music above an album template. There is always the risk, though, that a live performance can expose the over-produced limitations of a band’s music.
No one could ever accuse Bonnie Prince Billy of being ‘over produced’ and Is It The Sea? confirms his natural habitat as the stage rather than the studio. This is a brilliant record which bears witness to one night on BPB’s 2006 tour of Scotland and Ireland. He is joined by Edinburgh’s Harem Scarem on close harmonies, fiddle, flute, banjo and accordion and Glasgow’s Alex Nielson on drums and percussion. Much of the vitality of this recording comes from the contribution which these collaborators have to make. The highland lilt of their fiddle, accordion and flute accompaniments give BPB’s primal tales of love and loss, a real sense of depth. Their harmonies are always pure and direct; there is no great elaboration, only a mainlining of the musical heritage that BPB's revised American folk stems from.

Particular high points include Birch Ballad, a mesmeric Is It The Sea and an increasingly demented version of Cursed Sleep. In the act of performance many of the songs have been turned and twisted from immediately recognizable favourites.

Billie’s music has always carried a kind of medieval foreboding which is dramatically amplified here. In the case of Molly Bawn, the song’s minor key and archaic language are given an extra twist of Celtic wailing. The result is that the balladic tradition from which this song springs, appears alive and well in the hands of Bonnie Prince Billie.

There is a real authenticity to these recordings and a genuine fervour in the audience’s response. We are as far removed from the boot-tapping folksiness of American country as is possible. Instead the backdrop to these performances is that of a European heritage, an aural culture where tales were passed from generation to generation by firelight. Bonnie Prince Billie has appeared to us in many different guises but on Is it the Sea? he is at his most convincing as a kind of musical emigrant brought back to his roots.

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19th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Lords

Everyone Is People

Gringo

One listen to the Lords sophomore album and it's hard to believe that buried under the weight of scuzz soaked riffs, dirty blues arrangements and howling vocals lie three lads from Nottingham. Sounding a lot more like a bunch of unwashed Thin Lizzy fans, with Everyone Is People Lords deliver an effective if not familiar mix of the afore mentioned Thin Lizzy, the slinky grooves of ZZ Top, the trippy might of Hendrix and some early Soundgarden thrown in to really pad it out. But as helpful as reviews are that name check a multitude of sound-a-likes Lords bring enough of their own muscle to this album to make it a lot more than just a sum of its parts.

Their 2006 debut album, It Aint A Hate Thing, It's A Love Thing, was something of a side project for the 3 band members who were all in other groups but since then Lords have grown into the gravitas of their name and have come back with a sound that expands on the blues-rock success of bands like The Black Keys by dousing it with an obvious love of DC hardcore ferocity and the expanse of 70's rock. The Things We Do For Money is the flagship tune here and does everything you'd want an album like this to do. Treating the funk of The Meters to dirty, driving guitars, it holds a good amount of tension before dropping into the rhythm with amazing satisfaction.

Much of the album does follow this lead, with simmering formless arrangements introducing most songs until, with an imaginary nod of the head, all the band members fall into line and the riffage begins. But instead of being predictable this structure gives the songs the feel of a free jazz jam. It's not all high octane riff-offs either with tight-lipped shufflers like The Boat Don't Float shifting down a gear and building tension and the violins and cello's on opener Good Dog Bad Dog providing the mix with subtle texture and unexpected warmth. Everyone Is People wont change your life but it will certainly make it that much more entertaining.

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17th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Sic Alps

U.S.EZ

Siltbreeze

With the screech of feedback still ringing in our ears from the career spanning A Long Way Round To A Shortcut, comes this LA dude's first proper full length album. Since their DIY conception, Mike Donovan and Matthew Hartman have been slowly evolving their sound from the bandsaw-like noise of the early singles to the more song orientated blues-fuzz that we heard at the beginning of Long Way Round. U.S. EZ takes the whole gamete of that retrospective and with it we find a band more fully formed than ever and yet unmistakably gritty.

If you mistook that intro to mean that Sic Alps now make nice-and-easy-to-listen-to songs then keep an eye on your graphic equalizer and you'll see that it takes less than thirty seconds for opener Massive Place to hit the red line. Massive Place embodies this entire album as it is split into three definable sections, the first being Donovan's fuzz soaked vocals oozing out, thick as molasses and amid deep puddles of feedback. This tapers off unexpectedly and then resumes a moment later but now joined by what sounds like 20 drums. The third part is introduced towards the end of the song and is allowed roughly 5 seconds to get going before time is called on the whole thing. So in one song we have the near indecipherable and distant vocals together with the much matured and instantly impressive rhythm section which is all thrown left of center by the unpredictable song structure.

Even subjecting this record to this kind of scrutiny seems to miss the point. This band seem to pay little attention to things like structure or form and as a result have crafted a piece of work that flows freely though often on rocky ground. Songs like Put The Puss To Bed, with it's totally abstract nature, dovetail perfectly with a song like Bathman that, amid the wooly noise that surrounds it, sounds like a long lost Kinks demo recorded in an empty warehouse. Much is asked of the listener here, but never so much as the twinning of N##jj and its polar opposite Gelly Roll Gum Drop. N##jj takes all the noise from the early work and shits on it from a high height. It is 1:20 minutes of what sounds like a high speed pile-up involving a dozen 125cc motorbikes and 50 articulated lorries all carrying drum kits. It's a headache to say the least but what emerges is even more unexpected. Gelly Roll Gum Drop is one of the most conventional songs this band have made and plays heavily on their love of old rock n' roll and blues rhythms. Take all this and filter it through the lo-fi DIY filter and you've got a foot-tapping, scuzz dripping masterpiece.

U.S. EZ is the sound of a band emerging from its bare-bones beginnings into the big, wide world. It does this armed with all the tools that made people take notice in the first place, grit, freedom, non-conformity and energy and with all this firmly under their belt Sic Alps seem to march onwards into a new dawn and with a confidence that is a sight to behold.

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16th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Abe Vigoda

Skeleton

Bella Union

If Vampire Weekend sound like a bunch of private school kids who lace their tales of life on campus with the exotic sounds of their worldwide travels then Abe Vigoda are their less fortunate counterparts from the state school downtown who too embarked on journeys to far off lands but decided to quit school and stay there. While there they became ensconced in the local cultures and were in turn shielded from any notion of cool and their musical need to make loud noises was bathed in age-old, sun-baked traditions, this being the result.

Since their debut Kid City, Abe Vigoda have forged their own route to musical notoriety and in the process have stumbled haphazardly across what can only be described as 'tropical punk.' Hailing from L.A. Abe Vigoda are a four piece that vacate the emerging scene that surrounds the Smell club and along with contemporaries like Mika Miko and No Age are causing quite a stir with their complete musical abandon that comes at you like a black hole that, having sucked in so many musical genres is now spewing them all out the back end in a form so unrecognisable it's thrilling.

Kid City was this band's warning shot, emerging from their camp with abrasion and venom, and having got everyone's attention has paved the way for Skeleton. Skeleton is certainly less abrasive and as a result gives room to the myriad of elements that make up their sound. Having said that it still packs a punch and though the teeth have been filed down slightly it still aims to dominate completely. From the opening moments of Dead City/Waste Wilderness there is little let up as each song is jettisoned with reckless ease. Guitarists Michael Vidal and Juan Velazquez fire off punk ditties that manage to embody their surroundings of either the steel drum of the Caribbean or the gentle melodies of South America. The mix of the hard punk sound with the warmth of these two distant elements is instantly jarring but electrifying none the less. Neither sits well together and with the under production of Vidal's muffled and inaudible vocals this should, in a sane world, be pure noise. But thank God this world is anything but sane.

Skeleton is an album very much unaware of its surroundings in musical terms but all too aware in creative and geographical terms. Unlike with their debut, Abe Vigoda have paced this album perfectly and allowed just enough space to infiltrate their 'blanket' pace to keep the listener interested. Kid City came at us like a record with so much to say and not enough time but Skeleton has more maturity but still manages to retain the sketch-book like spontaneity of their original sound. In a year where Vampire Weekend's debut and No Age's Nouns have unexpectedly delighted my hungry ears it seems all too perfect that Skeleton should fall between the two. The record rolls along like a ball of knotted shoe laces which makes it very difficult to pull out and separate individual elements - but if you stop trying and just appreciate the knot as a whole you'll see it's a pretty amazing thing.

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14th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Deerhoof

Offend Maggie

Kill Rock Stars

The first thing you notice about the new Deerhoof record is the muscle in the guitars. The Tears And Music Of Love is an impressive way to open an album and after the first few bars of the duel guitar intro the new Deerhoof manifesto is firmly introduced. With the addition of a second guitar to the front line and an easing off in electronic production, the emphasis is on the live sound. To enhance this they have really stripped down the compositions allowing the twin guitars to stomp around in acres of space.

2007's fantastic Friend Opportunity signaled a veering towards accessibility for these art-rockers and its follow-up continues this trend. Offend Maggie successfully condenses the raw flair of this band and their frivolous tendency towards the unpredictable into near-perfect 3 minute pop songs but without compromising any of their avant-garde values. This is a trick bands have been looking to master forever and Deerhoof seem to do it effortlessly. Satomi Matsuzaki's sugar-sweet vocals are what has always kept this band well left of center and she doesn't disappoint here. She tends to sing in unison with the guitar melodies in a Malkmus kind of directional honesty, and it can really grate on songs like Basketball Get Your Groove Back, but her ability to quarry the purest of melodies out of such harsh musical surroundings is what makes their sound so addictive. She can deliver such cuddly and naive phrasing over jaunty percussion like on Fresh Born or make her distinctive voice float away on the intimate My Purple Past.

Deerhoof have always been masters of conjuring form out of formlessness and Matsuzaki's drifting style leads the way on songs like Eaguru Guru. Instead of the harsh changes of direction that have sometimes lurked around the corner on many of their past songs, the tendency here is to meander almost aimlessly into change with such ease and abandon that you really have to keep up or you'll find yourself in foreign territory quite often. Eaguru Guru strays way off the original course as the vocals drift by like tumbleweed, but those strays thinking that they're on to the next track are violently kept up to date as the whole thing is brought full circle with squealing guitars and calamitous, crashing drums. The effect is that the listener is repeatedly kicking themselves for thinking the band have lost their way.

This band never lose their way and yet again they have created a record that is built on chaos; for those willing to trust them the rewards are great. And though the pop structures that dominate this record make it much easier for the listener to trust than ever before, nothing has been lost. In fact, as a delivery device Offend Maggie is much more streamlined and is able to convey their love of the contrast, from form to formlessness, sweet to sour or soft to hard-as-hell, better than ever before.

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13th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Department Of Eagles

In Ear Park

4AD

Though predating Grizzly Bear, Department Of Eagles is the side project of Daniel Rossen - and after a few years off he returns with an album totally different from their debut but one that sounds nothing like a side project. In Ear Park is a collection of songs that are described by its creator as being too personal for Grizzly Bear. It's dedicated to Rossen's father who passed away in 2007 and the title comes from the nickname for the park in Los Angeles the two used to visit. Gone are the programmed beats and eclectic genre shifts in favor of a much more cosistant album of expertly crafted and infinately layered pop songs.

These songs are set on slow release as if they're really not bothered whether you like them or not. Having enlisted many of his band mates Rossen relies heavily on delicate construction of melody that runs through the heart of Grizzly Bear. Rossen's vocals run down the center of each song. They float as light as air and rarely exert themselves but gently rise on the vast waves of rich instrumentation that surround them. The attention to detail on this record is stunning with piano, double bass, strings, flutes, and acoustic guitars all rising and falling as if being encouraged out by a hard working conductor. No One Does It Like You sounds like it's being played in a cavernous ball room while Around The Bay stays so close to your ear it's quite unnerving - and this balance and contrast of space is what makes these songs so compelling. Phantom Other maskerades as a gentle folk song then with the contorted groan of a chello the whole thing lifts like a lost city rising from the sea, then just as quickly it tapers off with the same gentle acoustic pluck like the whole thing was a figmant of your iagination.

Themes of mortality, memory and nostalgia run through this record. The instruments emplayed and Rossen's distant vocals all conjure images of empty music halls, but through this is often a melancholic image there is a vibrant sense of joy the seems to preside. The use of incredibly subtle sampling and a texture built from a miryad of instruments so delicately employed not only create a rich foundation on which these songs lie but also evoke a ghostly feeling. They emerge and recede like spirits from the past, some more dominant and impatient than others but together bring about a feeling of gathering company rather than haunting lonelyness.

The debut album The Cold Nose was an exciting patchwork of beat driven instrumentals, but did play out like a collection of slightly unrelated but good ideas. In Ear Park is startlingly consistent and unified, evoking everything from Sgt. Pepper to Van Dyke Parks to The Beta Band. Form is definitely king here, but the surpressed experimentation that lurks behind each note and every word is what makes this record reveal more of its soul with every spin.

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10th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Melvins / Big Business / Porn

Concorde 2, Brighton, October 6th 2008

The Melvins return to our shores after an 18 month absence to promote their latest album Nude With Boots, and this time they've opted to play only a few regional dates around the UK after a tour of mainland Europe. So it's off to Brighton for an evening at the Seaside in the company of the Melvins and their modular support act system. First up are (Men Of) Porn - Tim Moss's experimental trio with Melvins drummer Dale Crover, and usually a member of the road crew on bass - Moss is the Melvins tour manager so this is really a family affair. What Moss does is to set up walls of guitar distortion which he modulates with all manner of electronics, and tonight things were much more drone than riff. The sound in Concorde 2 was, by the way, crisp and very loud.

Next up are Bass/Drums duo Big Business, who count as 50% of the Melvins. They deliver a short and powerful set including hands up, Shields, Grounds For Divorce, Easter Romantic and several new tracks. Crover comes back on to play guitar midway through the set and the crowd really start to heat up.

After a five minute break, the Melvins start up with the title track from their latest album - Nude With Boots. Twin drummers Dale Crover and Coady Willis are locked together really tight tonight, and King Buzzo looks almost cheerful. They play a great set with lots of tracks from their two most recent albums (the ones which feature Big Business), and a few Melvins classics including Eyes Flies, Honeybucket, Tipping The Lion and a spectacular version of Boris to close the set. Most of the punters are half the band's age, and show their appreciation by moshing ceaselessly. A top night out at the seaside.

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9th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Saint Etienne

London Conversations: The Best of Saint Etienne

Universal

It's hard to believe that Saint Etienne have been around for two decades and there is something heartwarming about their longevity, despite their obvious awkwardness. To this day, they remain something of enigma and certainly hard to pin down.

Revisiting their back catalogue is an interesting experience: although there are no revelations as such, it does give you the feeling that there is more to them than you might have thought. You could argue that there was always something of style over content about them, and that their best tune Only Love Can Break Your Heart was their debut single and not even theirs, but Neil Young's. Yet, when it works it, they can be irresistible; the early singles (Nothing Can Stop Us, Avenue) still sound completely fresh; a seamless mixture of 60's Pop, contemporary production, with their tongues slightly in their cheeks.

On subsequent singles they would sail so close to the edge of straight chart Pop, that it's indistinguishable from the 'real' thing. He's On The Phone, one of their most memorable tunes could easily be mistaken for Stock, Aitken & Waterman era Kylie Minogue (unsurprisingly they even ended up collaborating with her), which is not necessarily a bad thing, depending on your point of view.

Later tracks, settle into a more laid back and cinematic sound. With which they seem to become more comfortable in their own skin; Bad Photographer in particularly is great. They took this to its logical conclusion with their album and film Finisterre and also a greater sense of documenting their London surroundings, from which this compilation draws its name.

Although it's hardly going to win over a legion of new fans, London Conversations is well worth looking at. As a compilation, it documents their evolution brilliantly and certainly paints a vivid picture of what they are: an inventive, brave band you should cherish; bless 'em.

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8th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Okkervil River

The Stand Ins

Jagjaguwar

Okkervil River are fast becoming the only band you need. Following last year's stunning album The Stage Names, Will Sheff gives us its sequel - The Stand Ins. It's the band's Amnesiac with the recording sessions for The Stage Names bearing so much fruit that a double album was momentarily considered. Thankfully they bit their tongue and kept us waiting and as much of a treat as The Stage Names was, emerging from the melancholy of Black Sheep Boy with such confidence and grandeur, The Stand Ins swift release simply serves as yet another underlining of the word 'special' when describing this band.

Artist WIlliam Schaff's embroidered artwork that adorned The Stage Names here depicts a haunting skeletal figure with an arm reaching up and out of sight. At the end of this arm is the hand that emerges from the quicksand on the previous cover and lets us know that The Stand Ins aims to be a deeper immersion into the theme of show biz that plagued Sheff's writing earlier. It's the underneath of The Stage Names, it's what goes on behind the scenes and it ain't a pretty picture.

With his cross hairs firmly trained on the world of stage and screen recently, it's the business surrounding good ol' rock n roll that Sheff has it in for here and he treads a strange and complicated line of using the very medium in question to draw our attention to its pitfalls and failings. Lead single Lost Coastlines introduces us to the journey that every band faces and the distance this ship can take you from your starting point. It describes the joys and hardships faced when trying to keep a band together, and ironically, he does this with the help of his old band mate Jonathan Meiburg who, as you all will know, recently left Okkervil River to concentrate on Shearwater. Pop Lie is a scathing attack on the dishonesty of pop music and the manipulation that is used to gather in the fans. He doesn't stop there, and goes on to accuse the fans themselves of lying in the act of singing along. Is he separating himself and his writing from this deceit or telling us, his fans, that we are all a bunch of liars ourselves? Within this doubt lies the success of these songs.

Quite often Sheff places himself on the other side of the limelight, questioning the sanity of adoration. In Starry Stairs, Sheff assumes the supporting role watching the object of his affection being stared at by "these curious sets of eyes" while his heart is stretched to its elastic limit. Similarly in Blue Tulip, Sheff's amorous goals are kept at bay and, downtrodden and beaten, he graciously exclaims "Hats off to my distant hope, I'm held back by a velvet rope." This velvet rope becomes the main theme of Sheff's writing at the moment, standing in for something or someone that keeps us from our truth or our natural home.

Musically Sheff's bow is becoming multi stringed in the most thrilling of progressions. The energetic leap from Black Sheep Boy to The Stage Names was stunning and is continued here. This album follows a similar structure putting it's mightiest songs forward to lead the charge with the more contemplative foot-soldiers following close behind, plotting every step. Lost Highways is the sparing partner to The Stage Names' Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Is It with the jauntiest of basslines rolling unashamedly throughout with Meiburg's croon adding rich texture. The vocals on Singer Songwriter ooze out with a forked tongue as we hear of the musicians who bitch about their woe's when they have everything, while Blue Tulip reluctantly builds to its climax by way of heavy, plodding beats, wailing vocals and an eventual outpouring of the grittiest guitar. As Sheff describes his "distant hope" that is getting ever further away from him the cymbals crash around his words like exploding stars. He portrays a desire of celestial proportions and through the musical magnitude we see his hope collapse like a universe in the final stages of disappearing into itself.

This band may have evolved in the most colossal way since its beginnings but the key facts remain firmly intact. Sheff's direction and obsessive attention to detail make his work endlessly listenable and his courage and forward thinking that led his band out of the type of songwriting that made their name has given rise to this inability to stop creating. The only reason for this album to fall slightly short of its predecessor is that the distance covered between albums hasn't been as jaw-dropping but it seems hardly fair to penalize one creation for being merely as brilliant as the previous one.

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6th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

AC/DC: No Bull - The Director's Cut

(dir. David Mallet)

Sony

This 'legendary' concert from 1996 was shot on AC/DC's Ballbreaker tour, before a bull-ring full of adoring Spanish fans. A brief intro sees a giant polystyrene wrecking ball crash through a giant polysterene set, before Angus Young rushes through the rubble and the unforgettable chords of Back In Black deliver exactly whay you would want from this video.

Shoot To Thrill, Hell's Bells, Rock 'n Roll Ain't Noise Pollution..... all my Back In Black favourites are well represented, as well as a host of other classics (Thunderstruck, Girl Got Rhythm) and surprisingly few 'new' favourites. Some minor theatrics lead into Hells Bells, with Johnson swinging on a giant (polystyrene) bell, but otherwise it's pretty straight-up meat and potatoes from this great band.

The aged Angus (a mere 41 when this was shot) still pulls off the school boy shorts without a problem, often looking like the star of an 80's Peter Jackson horror movie - effortlessly Chuck Berry-ing around the stage with his casual style never dropping a note. Brian Johnson's smokey vocals sound forever stretched, but never quite crack - and while there's nothing spectacular about the filming of this concert, all the money is on the screen.

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3rd Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The War On Drugs / The Dudes / Ladyhawk

Borderline, London October 1st 2008

"Bryan Adams. Celine Dion. Ladyhawk. Neil Young. The Dudes." According to The Dudes lead singer Dan Vacon, two of Canada's favourite five bands are on stage tonight, and while that song Run To You was pretty good I'm going to have to agree.

As an added bonus, The War On Drugs provided last-minute support for the evening, after their European tour with the Hold Steady was cancelled. They managed to shake off their Waterboys image with some hard-rocking jams from Wagonwheel Blues stretched out into psychedelia - although they did display a tendency to drag every song on a little long. They're not quite Neil Young just yet.

The pace of the evening changed dramatically when The Dudes took to the stage, with their well travelled bar room rock lifting the atmosphere immeasurably. The band were fast and tight, power-housing their way through much of Brain, Heart, Guitar with an immensely charismatic charm. As expected, the sound of the band's slightly over-polished debut was peeled back live, to reveal a rock-loving, hard-jamming machine - with drumming like you have never seen. Best of all, the band looked like they were enjoying what they were doing, as they brought a Thin Lizzy-like honest simplicity to a raft of great tracks like Don't Talk, The Fist ("one-hand claps will do if you're holding a beer") and Dropkick Queen Of The Weekend. "In case you're wondering, white jeans and a mustache are not cool in Canada either."

Luckily we're not talking Hoxton mustache here - and I'm happy to report another entry into the "Beards+Guitar+Canada = Rock" stereotype, as Ladyhawk provided another whole level of great. "Fast and loose" doesn't mean a band can't be super-tight, as Ladyhawk powering through the best of their two albums, segueing between their own songs. "Ladyhawke is in the toilet, she'll be here in a minute" mocked singer Duffy Driediger, which probably provided an explanation for some of the bemused looking crowd. No sign of dance-pop from songs like I Don't Always Know What You're Saying and Ashtray, as this distinctly Canadian band beefed up an already great album - blending heavy rock with instantly accessible, sing-a-long song-writing.

A rousing rendition of Fear rounded out a great bill of live music, before an as-yet-unidentified encore provided a powerful end to the evening. With The Dudes down the front providing sing-a-long vocals, the band all switched places leaving Duffy Driediger to roam free and bust out his most comical Freddie Mercury-like vocal moves from the open plains of the dance floor. Awesome.

The War On Drugs - 2.5 stars
The Dudes - 3.5 stars
Ladyhawk - 4 stars

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2nd Oct 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Constantines

Kensington Heights

Arts & Crafts

Constantines have always been a puzzling band indeed. Since their debut they have pumped out a sound that borrowed from so many staple institutions they couldn't help to please. From the punk sounds of The Clash and more recent ferocity of bands like Fugazi, Constantines have managed to fuse this with the stadium-rock ambition of Springsteen and create music that would swell with each listen. And yet none of their albums have quite hit the mark. 2005's Tournament Of Hearts comes the closest and with it came the hope of a fine tuning process that was gloriously close to fruition. Songs like the awesome Hotline Operator showed the band becoming well aware of their strengths. This year's Kensington Heights fails to capatalise on 2005's successes and is yet again a good album - but one that leaves you wanting more.

Named after the street where the band's rehearsal studio is located, Kensington Heights sees their sound heading the other way to what Tournament Of Hearts hinted at. But then it's never as easy as that with Constantines. The first half of the record is bang on target, and the second half is by no means bad, but not the full throttle you were hoping for. Opener Hard Feelings sees Bryan Webb's rasping vocals straining over hard, driving guitars and that's just where you want them. Million Star Hotel is a much more plodding pace; the beats are slow but pounding and the feeling is menacing and brooding with Webb starting to let his voice go over skyward, squealing guitars. Trans Canada is the pinnacle of these two songs and by this point you really feel like things are starting to get interesting and Constantines are beginning to hit their stride. It could be twinned with the aforementioned Hotline Operator as it simmers with hard-fought restraint as it builds its fortress on a mighty chugging beat that swirls with subtle effects. The tension is induced by the idling guitar that haunts every corner of the song like an engine ticking over outside your window. Shower Of Stones is a strange, almost spoken word ticking time-bomb that is unlike any other Constantines song and would be simply stunning if it marked the halfway point where the album disappears into a home-straight of chaotic venom.

Unfortunately it signals the opposite. Instead of summoning the spirit of Fugazi, Buffalo Tom seems to be more influential here as songs like Time Can Be Overcome and Brother Run Them Down drift by on the gentlest of breezes and show the band easing down a gear. They rarely let rip but, like watching someone feed your baby with an AK47 under his arm, their success has always involved tension and the threat of violence. They are a band who possess a great power but as a wise man once said, "with great power comes great responsibility." In my opinion Constantines' responsibility is to wield this power with the iron fist that befits them and sadly Kensington Heights does not do this to the extent that I would have liked.

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30th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

TV On The Radio

Dear Science

4AD

Sweeping and ambitious in scope, this is an eclectic record with so many levels it will take literally weeks to properly decode. Near impossible to predict, the record twists and turns, changing key, pitch and tempo - but never seems disengaging.

Halfway Home starts the album with pounding drums, hand-claps and a be-bop harmony building up the pace and pressure quickly and steadily. The track is a perfect gateway into the album - to the point that that it momentarily seems to have escalated things prematurely to a momentum that cannot be maintained. Just when it can't build anymore, a last minute tempo shift takes things up another notch - leaving you floating on the full steam of this relentless album. Like a crash course in TVOTR you are now schooled and ready to proceed.

Described as having a 'pop edge', that edge could at its most accessible be described as being as equally inspired by the likes of N.E.R.D. or Outkast as by the more rock roots of T.V.O.T.R.'s previous records. The rapped vocals of Dancing Choose stray dangerously close to cringeworthy, holding strong on just the right side of Blondie or the Edge's embarrassing efforts for long enough to balanced out by the delicate chorus - just one of dozens of unpredictable changes in the electric song-writing of the album.

The sound may be wide, but never seems scattergun. It's radio friendly but still relatively weird - and as a band TV On The Radio seem thoroughly cohesive and dedicated to the task at hand. Dave Sitek's production is immaculate, polishing and smoothing the uncountable elements into a densely packed whole - from the Bob Marley-esque bass-line of Golden Age to the twisted ballad Family Tree, which slows the pace a little, pitched perfectly at the old "end of side one / start of side two" point on the record. Close in style to 4AD's own This Mortal Coil, the track layers slow vocals over delicate string arrangements, building beautifully in momentum to end with trip-hop drums.

Red Dress and Love Dog provide side two highlights, and by the time you make it through to the electric frenzy of DLZ, or the anthemic drums and brass-band of Lover's Day it's all become something of a rousing finale, bookending the record by maintaining the momentum of the opening track so totally, that there's an almost euphoric atmosphere as the last note passes. There's a substantial range of bonus track and limited-edition type versions of the album, but after the logical conclusion of Lover's Day I can't imagine they'll do much to improve the shape of this perfectly paced and superbly crafted album.

TV On The Radio set the bar pretty high with Return To Cookie Mountain, but I'm happy to report that their 2006 album now seems like The Bends next to Dear Science's OK Computer. Both great records for sure, but this seems like an evolutionary leap forward and a shoring up of the band's sound and ambition. A certain contender for 2008's best-of lists and a consistently rewarding listen.

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26th Sep 2008 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Bellowhead

Matachin

Navigator

When I was a kid what I knew about traditional folk music was based solely on watching in bewilderment at the people wearing cloth beermat waistcoats who wandered round my home town at the annual folk festival. Nowadays I like a bit of what might be called ‘alternative folk’ - Bonnie Prince Billy, Iron and Wine, etc. Yet, I still don’t know an awful lot about folky folk folk. So, at first it was hard to know what to make of the second Bellowhead album, Matachin (apparently a dance involving swords).

Initially it seemed like the traditions of English folk music were firmly in place with ye olde ballads and whiskey soaked sea shanties abounding. However, the inspiration from jazz, cabaret and also a darker, abstract, circus troupe verve are all evident and you realise that they’re not so easy to label.

They themselves say “above all this is a BIG band” – and with 11 sharp suited Bellowheaders playing 20 instruments the band is certainly big. The mix of the normal folk instrumentation – fiddles, mandolins and guitars – with glockenspiels, trombones, saxophones and frying pans creates a boisterous, quirky and drunken atmosphere. Further, the arrangements are topped off with some fine storytelling. Apart from on angry instrumental jig – ‘Trip to Bucharest’ - the centuries old tales of lost love, cholera and prostitutes who service priests are delivered with a showman’s swagger by lead singer, Jon Boden. And on pieces such as “Roll Her Down The Bay” and “Kafoozalum” the entire band join in and sound like they’re having a right good time of it too.

This probably explains why their live performances have won them high praise from their own scene and beyond. They’ve been the resident band at the Southbank Centre, performed to much applause at the Proms this year and even made a new fan in Chili Peppers frontman Anthony Kiedis after playing on ‘Later... with Jools Holland’.

So, while I thought folk might not be my thing beforehand, I found myself surprisingly enjoying the twists and turns on this album. I like the cut of their jib. Tho not enough to make a waistcoat out of beermats.

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25th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Sic Alps

A Long Way Round To A Shortcut

Animal Disguise

The far reaching arm of the internet has empowered the music listening public but changed the way we listen to and experience this music. One of the casualties is the emergence of a 'local scene' and the excitement of feeling like you are one of a select few that is hearing this music hasn't been felt by many for a long time. For a while now L.A. club The Smell has been the epicenter of a small genre commonly known as 'shitgaze' - a lo-fi punk rock sound often drowned in noise and scuzz. The main players are No Age, Abe Vagoda, and this band - Sic Alps. To make it easy for us this side of the pond, guitarist Mike Donovan and drummer Matthew Donovan have compiled the story so far in one nice easy 26 track album gathering together together all their 7' and 12' releases since 2006.

Arranged in reverse chronological order A Long Way Round To A Short Cut puts its best foot forward with stripped down garage rock occupying most of the first half. Songs like Message From The Law and Bells (With Tremelo And Destortion) serve up a solution of dirt covered blues riffs with murky vocals. They rattle with tinny, DIY production and rumble with basslines so wrapped up in fuzz they play out like month-old cheese. It's not until we get to the halfway point of RATROQ that this record changes course. It's a course that you'd be able to see coming but RATROQ marks the shift and downward plummet into the avant-guard noise creations that this band started with. It's like A Love Supreme being put through a bandsaw and it continues on from there with Social Strats and I Am Grass (Restored) following suit.

So from the hiss-soaked blues rock of the latest singles, Sic Alps take us on a back-track through their short but conscientious career through the squinting screech of their feed-back faze and finishing up with the 2006 releases that adopted a kind of stoner-rock lethargy but with added grime. The latest releases are undoubtedly more palatable but the early 8-Track recordings are essential listening when trying to understand this band and the scene they belong in.

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24th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Chad Vangaalen

Soft Airplane

Sub Pop

The Canadian one-man-band returns from the success of Skelliconnection with his 3rd album and one that consolidates all his learnings so far into the best example of his creativity so far. Soft Airplane maintains the DIY aesthetic that Vangaalen has mad his own but manages to inject just enough new-found sophistication to make this record a welcome departure from the previous 2 but familiar enough to keep them relevant.

Using various analogue recording devices Vangaalen lays down a wonderful mixture of dainty folk (Willow Tree), grimy indie-rock (Inside The Molecules) and glitch heavy electronica (TMNT Mask). Using all sorts of instruments from synthesizers, guitars, to any number of home made things that make make noise each song bristles with a creativity and open-mindedness that has always been more than obvious but here seems to sit more comfortably in its skin. The records may swing between genres at an alarming rate but the unifying thread in all his work is the voice. Throughout each tale of death, nightmares and love lost and found Vangaalen's voice quivers with the vulnerability of a flickering flame and yet can rise to a cavernous scale like on the riff heavy Bare Feet On Wet Griptape.

With his mixture of traditional song craft and homemade electronics, Soft Airplane oozes melancholic nostalgia but shines forth with the hope of a contemporary outlook. It's an album so full of ideas it's hard to imagine all this emanated from just one man. It plays out like the work of an artist entirely dedicated to his craft and one who's influences are never denied but instead used as a launching pad for a journey that is all together his own.

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#BC

23rd Sep 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Catfish Haven

Devastator

Secretly Canadian

With an introduction that will make you almost sure you are listening to a legendary Lynyrd Skynyrd bootleg, Catfish Haven's third album Devastator kicks off with a confidence and enthusiasm that makes them hard to place. Your immediate assumption might be that the band are a 70's rock tribute act, and while the album is unashamedly retro there's a wealth of great material on here - worthy of many of of the band's obvious influences.

If Aretha Franklin has refused to let Matt "Guitar" Murphy quit the cafe and put the band back together, Jake and Ellwood Blues might have called on second choice backing band - Duane and Gregg Allman. Their southern rock could have pushed the Blues Brothers into a whole new territory, adding a heavy-rocking boogie to their Sam Cooke-influenced soulful style. Surpringly enough, Catfish Haven are not a sprawling 11-piece rock orchestra, but just a three piece from Chicago - with a very big sound.

The party train leaves the station on opener Are You Ready, before passing through the infectous Prince-tinged guitar of Set In Stone (an unmissable highlight and certainly a future Chimpomatic Song Of The Day, mp3 here), as George Hunter wails "There's a train, that leaves the station of my mind". There's no slowing down for the foot-stomping piano on Buying My Time, or the furious instrumental workout of Full Speed as this unstoppably entertaining listen plows full steam ahead, right through to the very end.

This is one retro sound that has been long in need of re-invention and thankfully the band remain firmly on the side of homage rather than pastiche - more Black Mountain than Wolfmother. You can either jump on board right here, or at the very least dust off some Allman Brothers and leave your blues at home.

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#CSF

22nd Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Mogwai

The Hawk Is Howling

Wall Of Sound

Scottish post-rockers Mogwai are back, with The Hawk Is Howling - their sixth studio album. Wall Of Sound are the label this time, with Matador releasing the record in the US.

The obtusely named I'm Jim Morrison, I'm Dead starts with a delicate piano, before building slowly as bass, guitar and drums layer on top of each other, steadily heightening the intense atmosphere. There are no vocals or lyrics of course, and as Jim Morrison didn't play guitar it's hard to know what he's saying. In fact, without lyrics the song titles are all we do have to decode this album and work out what Mogwai are trying to say. Thankfully "The Sun Smells Too Loud", "I Love You, I'm Going To Blow Up Your School" and "Thank You Space Expert" spell it out in black and white.

While titles like these might offer little in the way of explanation - seeming more like very personal thoughts and ideas - they do add a certain intensity and suggestion to the music, however misleading they may in fact be. Eschewing some of the more left-field experiments of previous records, the album plays a fairly straight bat - with most songs concentrating on a slow-burning intensity that leads to eventually reward, rather than the more pummeling up/down sound of some of their post-rock contemporaries. Where Explosions In The Sky virtually never fail to deliver an unmitigated rock-out, some of these songs do tend to boil a bit too long - failing to bubble over and ending instead in anti-climax by going for a more constant atmospheric approach, raher than hugely distinctive peaks and troughs. As a result, much of the album can slip by unnoticed - all thorurughly fine, but just slightly dis-engaging.

Mogwai have always seemed to have a bullet-proof mystique to them, from their cult name, through obscure concerts on Scottish islands, to the superior artwork of this and other records - dismissing potential commercial projects to work on the likes of the Zidane movie. The Hawk Is Howling does nothing to damage that reputation, instead just becoming another piece of a diverse cannon of work, much of which doesn't quite encapsulate the band as it seems like it should.

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#CSF

18th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Vivian Girls

Vivian Girls

In The Red

The indie revival continues with this album from Brooklyn's Vivian Girls - pulling girl-group harmonies over the top of shoe-gazing guitars that know a bit about feedback. After a vinyl-only release on Mauled By Tigers sold out in no time, In The Red have stepped in to give this debut full-length a wider distribution.

The album starts as it means to go on - jumping striaght into the already full-flowing maelstrom of All The Time - and the tempo seldom slows from there. You could easily megamix the tracks together with a half-dozen (Going Insane, Tell The World, No ...."No, no, no. No. No. No.") all following a clearly cut template.

Such A Joke tries to bend the formula a little, with the spinal bassline tying together an almost surf sound, but here the production values just blend the promising track into mush. In the era of home studio and Garageband, there little excuse for sounding like an 8-track recording. Where Do You Run finds the band heading into Lush's well mapped territory - emulating Miki Berenyi's love-lost lyrics over charming harmonies, making for easily the most successful track on the album.

There's no doubt that some of the production problems would be overcome in a live setting, as the band have an undoubted energy and charisma. At best they head towards the steady sound of 80/90's 4AD and the likes of Lush or The Amps, but next to someone like Electrelane, these Vivian Girls seem pale and tired in comparison.

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#NM

17th Sep 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Lambchop

Oh (Ohio)

City Slang

The task of reviewing a new Lambchop album is a tricky one indeed. Firstly this band tend to make albums so subtle and complex that to form an opinion in only a few listens seems futile as from past experience a Lambchop album will have its delights set on slow release. Secondly, and similarly due to the great wealth of subtleties, the changes and progressions that occur between albums seem minimal or certainly not obvious. Only the more ardent fans will notice any great shifts in style or theme from record to record but to everyone else they all sound pretty similar.

There are however some pretty seismic (in Lambchop terms) changes on Oh (Ohio) and that is namely its accessibility. Kurt Wagner has always crafted songs that ooze romance but the sheer weirdness that has always lurked underneath these lounge acts has always hinted at a tongue being in cheek. The result of this has always put a slight chill in the smokey air and has set our quirky narrator at a distance from his subjects. But from this distance he has always been able to view life in all its detail and pass comment with a unique profundity. On Oh (Ohio) the profundity remains but the distance seems to have lessened and a new warmth has crept into these songs.

Please Rise illustrates this new shift perfectly. Wagner's lethargic vocals stand alone as this song emerges, then slowly it is joined by a delicate and quite distant piano. With cavernous guitars this song gently rises and rises until Wagner's closing line of "stand over me" is enveloped in glistening music that has formed such a protecting layer of warmth that a song that opened with such vulnerability ends with a great sense of peace. This closeness is also evoked by a pleasing increase in pace dotted perfectly throughout the shuffling. Sharing A Gibson With Martin Luther King Jr. is the best example of this. As it skips along on a rolling bassline and jangly guitars, its continuous momentum dipping and peaking forming a fantastic mirror to the monotone vocals that never over exert themselves along the way. On Popeye these two elements are kept separate as the first half drifts by on bristling melodies and thick, dripping vocals only to be rudely interrupted by a thrilling instrumental second half that kicks off hot on the heals of the dying notes that preceded it.

Earlier in the album on the beautiful Slipped Dissolved And Loosed, Wagner is joined by a soft female vocal accompaniment that shadows his chorus like a cool breeze and provides companionship to his often lonely delivery. The opening line to this song "I am not familiar with the typography of your mind," is brought to mind as we near the end of the record with I Believe In You. It's a strikingly intimate way to end a record and reflects the love song we heard earlier and indeed serves as an insight into "the typography" of Wagner's mind. With this song Wagner emerges from the world he creates in his music and puts us and him very much in the now, commenting on everything from God to organic food. It's an apt way to end a record that, with many of his eccentric kinks ironed out, is more palatable, easier to get on with and more safe. His alarmingly high falsetto vocal levels never get an airing here but in those deep tones that trickle throughout Oh (Ohio) there is plenty to listen to.

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#BC

16th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Kings Of Leon

Only By The Night

Sony

With relatively little fanfare, Tennessee's London's favourite sons the Kings of Leon are back with Only By The Night - their fourth long player in 5 years, and a mere 18 months since the barn-storming Because Of The Times. I'm not sure why that merits a mention, but in a world where The Verve just ambled out number four it seems prolific - particularly when The Kings seem to have spend the last 18 months playing Brixton or Hammersmith every other week. However, next to The Doors (6 in 5 years), Led Zeppelin (8 for 10) or even The Beatles (13 for 7) that shouldn't really be something to write home about.

Moody opener Closer starts the album, before grungey lead 'free download' Crawl does little more than offer an introduction to the band's new fuzz-drenched sound. In contrast, actual single Sex On Fire provides the most obvious link to the band's previous successful formula, as Caleb Followill wails over great drums and moody guitars about being seemingly double-crossed by another Black Hearted Woman. As usual, it's a formula that works - producing perhaps the most succesful song on the album.

Although the band are claiming to be 'ready to tackle their southern roots again', this album is even more of a departure from their original sound - a transition mirrored perfectly with their beards getting shorter and jeans getting tighter. The lyrics and story-telling here seem more and more detached from the band's image - and stories of life on the wrong side of the tracks, ramblin' in the desert and calling 'shotgun' with some hot fresher just don't reconcile with the dude I've been seeing in the gossip columns, hanging out in VIP London hotspots with famous rock-star daughters.

17 starts off like it's their contribution to a Now Christmas! album, as Caleb croons "She's only 17...!" , while the cowbell heavy I Want You, or dragged out soft-rock anthem of Cold Desert seem to match the Hill Valley sentiment of "I'm gonna be somebody!" - with added 80's rock producton that would have graced a Bon Jovi ballad. Manhatten echoes the sentiment with "Gonna show this town!" and you start to feel like there's a confidence crisis going on somewhere. Surely they are somebody by now? Or maybe this is all about the band's still relative lack of success stateside - and NME hasn't made it to Tennessee yet.

With these guys, rather than having a new album's worth of great material it seems like perhaps a shift of branding might be the cause of the quick turnaround - as the band try and play the credibility card and crack the elusive US market, where they still only sell around 200,000 copies per album. The result is unfortunately a strange mix of too much effort and not trying hard enough.

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#CSF

12th Sep 2008 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Metros

More Money Less Grief

1965 Records

Peckham teenagers The Metros have been doing the rounds for a while now, slowly building the anticipation for this release through a series of singles and EPs. The band met at school and the sprit of Grange Hill is still present here - with stories of life in south London so vivid, you'll expec a banger on a fork to come flying towards you at at any moment. While the evolution of the band has not been rushed, it seems like it was always inevitable - with a record sleeve designer and a session bassist among the band's parental heritage. Add to that a demo produced by Baxter Dury and James Endeacott's 1965 Records seems like a perfect home for the band.

Live, The Metros are endlessly entertaining - with cheeky lead singer Saul Adamczewski's boundless energy and stage presence carrying the show effortlessly. Stop/start bovver boy beats owe more than a passing nod to the storytelling-meets-ska of Madness or Squeeze - and you know these guys would drive a Cortina if they could. The clean, sharp production and the upbeat playing style suit the songs perfectly - vividly portraying the hard times of living life in the teenage party fast-lane.

While the enthusiasm behind the band and this record is undeniable, things don't really expand much beyond what we've heard already, from the extensive run of singles - and the album offers little new over the 38 minutes. Once you've heard the ska-tinged snarl of Education Part 2, or the stop/start bounce of Last of the Lookers, you've pretty much heard them all. Having said that, if you like those tracks, you'll probably like it all - and what's not to like? Have a few drinks, pogo around and sit tight, as there's bound to much bigger and better things from this promising band in the future.

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#NM

11th Sep 2008 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Jaguar Love

Take Me To The Sea

Matador Records

Fans of disbanded Seattle bands Blood Brothers or Pretty Girls Make Graves , may be excited to know that certain members of each (Cody Votolato and Johnny Whitney from BB. Jay Clark from PGMG) have joined forces, relocated to Portland, formed Jaguar Love, signed to Matador records and now released their debut album "Take Me To The Sea". Those same fans might also like to know, that while the complex and creative intesity that marked previous incarnations remains in place, the hardcore brashness has been smoothed down into something altogether more melodic. Not too melodic mind, as they have already snagged a support slot for leading rockers Queens Of The Stone Age in the States. Those fans need fear not either, Johnny Whitney's unique vocals are certainly present, correct and unique as ever.

And here's the crux of the matter; personally I've never engaged with either of those two former bands - so I'm taking no emotional currency with me into "Take Me To The Sea". The tunes are indeed complex, interesting, well put together, energetic and all the rest of it - but there is no escaping those vocals. Some of the more favourable critical comparisons out there include "pure Bolan-esque glam" or "Robert Plant on Steroids". Some of the less favourable "...like Perry Farrell after a sex change" or this gem..."..like a child being tortured". I'm in the latter camp - and while the music maybe "At The Drive-In', the vocals are definately more "Alvin The Chipmunks", which unfortunately makes the album pretty much unlistenable.

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#chimpovich

9th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet