Chimpomatic

Justified

Season 2

Based on Elmore Leonard's character US Marshall Raylan Givens, Justified is proving to be one of the more reliable shows on TV these days. Following the proven formula of the first, season two follows a few stand-alone stories, while slowly building a season arc that comes to a head with a finale spread over the last 3 or 4 episodes. Justified eschews the high-concepts of 24 or Lost and instead concentrates on good story, great character and solid production - as Timothy Olyphant's modern day cowboy marshall clears up wrong doing in redneck America.

While heroes don't come much cooler than Raylan Givens, he's frequently given a run for his money by Good/Bad guy Boyd Crowther. It's a typecast-breaking performance from ex-crony-on-The-Shield Walton Goggins, who plays the flip-side of Givens perfectly - trying his best to stay out of trouble, but just not being able to resist it. The most likeable TV criminal since Stringer Bell.

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7th Jun 2011 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Next Three Days

Unsubtle and hollywood-ized, but still entertaining remake of French escape thriller 'Pour Elle'.

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8th Apr 2011

500 Days of Summer

Well-observed indie rom-com, perfectly aimed at the GenrationX-er.

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1st Apr 2010

Kick-Ass

(dir. Matthew Vaughan)

V enjoyable superhero flick that does exactly what it says on the tin. Adapted from the comic by Mark Millar and John Romita Jr, it follows the adventured of Dave Lizewski (Aaron Johnson) a high school fanboy who asks a simple question and then follows it to its logical conclusion: why hasn't anyone tried being a superhero?

After a few half-assed encounters with some low-level street thugs (basically involving him having his ass-kicked), his scuba-suited antics get picked up on YouTube and he becomes something of a local hero. This brings him to the attention of a far more organised duo - Hit Girl and Big Daddy (Nicholas Cage on great form) - who show him (and us) what real-life vigilantism would actually look like - basically, some unhinged people running around with a lot of guns and weapons.

The action is fast-paced, the nods to comic books on form without being overbearing (one flashback scene all told with comic panels is brilliant), and the dialogue a deft balance between hilarious and daft. Aaron Johnson (last seen as the young John Lennon in Nowhere Boy) is an engaging lead, Christopher Mintz-Plasse (aka McLovin in Superbad) has a good sense of comic timing, and it's always good to have Nic Cage in a role where you don't hate him for not being as good as he used to be. 12 year old powerhouse Hit Girl is a force of nature too, she gets some of the best lines, and this could easily be a breakout role for Chloë Moretz.

Chuck in the odd disarmingly moving scene, some gore-packed fights and a plot that keeps just the right side of almost-believable, and it's a winner. Totally not suitable for kids though, will be interesting to see how well it does without an underage superhero audience packing it out (although, let's face it, there are probably more than enough grown-up superhero fans around these days...). 

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23rd Mar 2010 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

82 Almost Best-of-the-decade albums

Various

The 00s have certainly been a turbulent decade for the music industry, from the rise and fall of Napster, through the MP3 and iPod revolution and on to the reality TV dominated close of the decade.

Drum and bass infiltrated pop music so throughly that it's now just part of the furniture, while Hip Hop blew up to dominate the US charts, nabbing a guest spot on dozens of chart toppers.

Filtering through the hundreds of albums released in the decade is no mean feat, so we've kept our final list strictly democratic - with the top 10 derived from those albums most nominated by our reviewers.

Read the top 10 here - but if that's not enough, here's a lazy, sprawling list of 82 others that come very highly recommended, in no particular order:

Interpol - Turn on the Bright Lights
Killer track: PDA. More New York cool, a 'go-to' album for so many occasions
TV On The Radio - Dear Science
Pearl Jam - Riot Act
Doves - Kingdom Of Rust
At the Drive In - Relationship of Command
Killer Track: Enfilade. A welcome dose of anger after the fallow years of the late 90s. Added bonus that it was released on the soon to be bust Grand Royal label.
Justice - D.A.N.C.E.
Santogold - Santogold
Smog - Dongs Of Sevotion
Cornelius - Point
Devendra Banhart - Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon
Mugison - Lonely Mountain
Midlake - The Trials Of Van Occupanther
Electralane - The Power Out
Radiohead - Amnesiac
Beth  Gibbons & Rustin' Man - Out Of Season
PJ Harvey - Stories From The City
Caribou - The Milk Of Human Kindness
Pearl Jam - Bearoya Hall
Unusual in that it's a live album, this double acoustic set pulls together all that's great about the much-maligned grungers. Spine tingling.
Fugazi - The Argument
Not their best, but still one of the best
Low - The Great Destroyer
Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend
Iron & Wine - Our Endless Numbered Days
Killer track: Passing Afternoon. We live in noisy times, everyone should have an album like this to retreat to now and again
Bruce Springsteen - The Rising
The only artist capable of an appropriate 9/11 album.
Blond Redhead - 23
Grandaddy - Software Slump
John Frusciante - Shadows Collide With People
The Early Years  - Early Years
Frightened Rabbit - The Midnight Organ Fight
Killer track: Fast Blood. One of those albums that just clicks straight away, some brutally honest songs but never a hard listen
The National - Alligator
Jay-Z - The Blueprint
Despite his fame, his only album that's solid throughout.
The Shins - Wincing The Night Away
Arcade Fire - Neon Bible
Bright Eyes - I'm Wide Awake It's Morning
Portishead - Third
Spoon - Girls Can Tell
Spoon - Ga Ga Ga Ga
Spoon - Kill The Moonlight
Spoon - Gimme Fiction
Yes, we like Spoon.
Stephen Malkmus - Pig Lib
Elbow - Leaders Of The Free World
CJ: Their strongest album from a solid bunch of releases.
Kings Of Leon - Because Of The Times
7 minute opener followed by track after track.
Electrelane - No Shouts, No Calls
Johanna Newsom - Y's
Band Of Horses - Cease To Begin
Radiohead - Hail To The Thief
Buck 65 - Talking Honky Blues
Common - Like Water For Chocolate
Silver Jews - Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea
David Berman finally made sense.
Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavilion
Guided By Voices - Human Amusement at Hourly Rates
Finally a solid album from GBV. One of the best best ofs going - up there with Neil Young's Decade.
Wilco - Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago
The Good The Bad And The Queen - The Good The Bad And The Queen
Another surprising side-project from Damon Albarn
TV On The Radio - Return To Cookie Mountain
Elbow - The Seldom Seen Kid
Red Hot Chilli Peppers - By The Way
Titus Andronicus - The Airing Of Grievances
No Age - Nouns
Jay-Z - The Black Album
The Wedding Present - Take Fountain
An awesome return for the Indie legends, embracing a move to the US for Uncle Gedge
Kanye West - College Dropout
John Frusciante - To Record Only Water For 10 Days
Paving the way for Frusciante's magnificent return to form.
The Cave Singers - Welcome Joy
Low - The Great Destroyer
Catfish Haven - Devastator
The Strokes - First Impressions Of Earth
The Invisible - The Invisible
Lightning Dust - Infinite Light
The Decemberists - Picaresque
The Coral - Magic And Medicine
Killer track: Liezah. Some strictly Liverpool uncool. A Coral album is a comforting thing.
Beirut - The Flying Club Cup
Radiohead - Kid A
Cannibal Ox - The Cold Vein
DJ Shadow - The Private Press
Great at home or on the dance floor.
Flight of the Conchords - Flight of the Conchords
It shouldn't work, but it does. Comedy genius.
Interpol - Antics
Take you on a cruise. Awesome
The Walkmen - You & Me
Killer track: In the New Year. Band of the decade for Chimpovich.
Arcade Fire - Funeral
Why? - Alopicia
Weird indie hip-hop that just works.
Ladyhawk - Shots
My Morning Jacket - It Still Moves
White Denim - Workout Holiday
Killer track: Lets Talk About It. Chaotic, energetic, sounds like a good time was had making it.

#Music
#Chimpomatic

31st Dec 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Melvins

Highbury Garage, London

Back in London 364 days since their last appearance, the mighty Melvins play the Garage as a sweet prelude to this weekend's ATP festival in Minehead. Almost bouncing onto the stage to the tune of Rawhide, King Buzzo looks like he's in a terrific mood tonight, and he and Dale Crover play as a two piece for the first half hour of their set - just guitar and drums and vocals. This works really well - a real case of less is more - and it would seem that Buzz has abandoned his rather transistorised guitar sound of recent times for a big chunky amp sound again. Buzz and Dale run through a selection of Melvins tunes including a brilliant version of Black Bock and a rough round the (vocal) edges cover of "Let Me `Roll It" by Wings, before being joined by Jared Warren and Coady Willis  and becoming the full version of the band.

They are in good form tonight - the setlist has changed a lot since last year, and the band sound enthusiastic for the newly selected material. We get to hear a really wide range of Melvins tunes from the popular (Hooch, The Bit) through to the obscure (Anaconda, Pigs Of The Roman Empire) plus another great cover version - Devo's Mr DNA (well spotted there Jimbo). Some technical issues create a couple of false-starts tonight, and a sudden departure from the stage for about 15 mins - quite unusual - but as soon as they get rolling again, they sound great. Plenty of tracks from last year's Nude With Boots, plus a host of classics including Night Goat, With Teeth and It's Shoved.

You can see why the Melvins are celebrating 25 years of left-field metal - never content to rest on their laurels, always shifting the line-up and band dynamics and always revisiting older material with a new approach. The Melvins is - and always will be - Buzz and Dale, and tonight they showed that they are perfectly capable of working just as a duo. I wouldn't feel cheated if that's how they chose to tour for a while. Still, it was great to hear them both ways tonight - the highlight of the show had to be Pigs Of The Roman Empire which wouldn't have sounded the same without Jared's huuuge bass sound. Anyway, you've just got to love a band that plays cover versions of songs by Wings, Alice Cooper and Devo in one gig. 

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#HarrisPilton

10th Dec 2009 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Toutpartout 15 years: Monotonix & Scout Niblett

Scala, London

So this guy comes up to me, looking a bit Adolf. I think actually he's into this new fangled style of short back and sides, 1940's military hair and moustache combo. "You might wanna loose your backpack" He tells me, looking all official and self satisfied. "How many times have you shot them before?" he enquires. Oh God, does he want to check if he has more tattoos than me, more piercings than me too?, "None, I reply" Oh well, you'll need to move around with the action he kindly informs me.

Glancing around, I don't see many contenders for the "action" yet. The place isn't so full and people are keeping quite far back from the dancefloor. A bit all look and don't touch. Perhaps they've heard about the "action" and they don't want to get too close.

Monotonix are very hairy. They look like the 118 men. They come from Israel. I wonder if they know about the 118 men in Israel? I wonder if they would still continue to dress in ill fitting garish 70's sportswear if they did. They are also a bit Borat too. Being a zany halfwit comedian is one thing. Aping one is another. By contrast, their fans - or the people in the audience at least. Are not hairy at all. None of this ironic or otherwise post Darkness post 70's glam rock tongue in cheek tomfoolery. The punters who stand around stroking their chins, looking for a way to intellectually justify this side-show of 3 beer stained over 40 hairies, are the bald, shaven, bearded, post hardcore brigade in work pants and chords probably bought from some overpriced skate shop in Covent Garden.

Beginning their merriment with a drum kit in the area normally reserved for the audience who don't want to get too close to the barrier. This musical incarnation of the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers launch into a dirge of sub garage punk fuzz riffage and mildly insane accompanying antics, that generally revolve around, steal beer, spill beer on fellow band member, roll on the floor, jump on the drumkit, repeat. On one hand, I wonder why they are doing. I for one, am not entertained. This is just mindless thug-Abba theatrics. On the other hand, I ask are they challenging my idea about what musical entertainment should be. But an arthouse take on The Darkness meets the Fall just doesn't work. Or does it? Monotonix must have some kind of game-plan, but it washed over me.

Pretty much polar opposite is singer-songwriter Scout Niblett. Eschewing everything you imagined about this nouveau lo-fi anti-folk or whatever they call it these days, she is quiet, then a bit louder, a bit hippy and a bit drippy, a bit art-school lo-fi I'm-not-really-trying-but-secretly-I-am-doing-my-best-ok. Whereas with Mantronix you got the "action". Scout Niblett plays rooted to the spot to a 3 rows full of wide hipped corduroy-clad seated student girls, eager to get shots with the point and shoot cameras in dreamy anticipation of updating their wimins blog through their iPhone.

With flagrant disregard to anything else, especially getting on stage at the designated time, Ms Niblett's lo-fi riffs form a lulling bed on which she overlays her key weapon. The kind of riffage one may go over again and again after 1st learning a few hooks on your big brothers guitar, Niblett's multi-dimensional voice lulls, mesmerises and draws in the listener so that everything else draws into insignificance. Different enough to be original and etched with a few, "she's lived" grooves, Scout Niblett combines a stripped-down and unplugged Nirvana sound with an ernest and original vocal to produce odd-ball songs about Dinosaur Eggs and other such delights and frippery that would keep a kookie young art school rebel happy. Before she plays, Scout places an array of lyric sheets on the floor and has a brief moment of fear and belief. She might have one too many ideas, but they're working as one.

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3rd Dec 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Girls

Album

Fantasy Trashcan

This debut album from San Francisco duo Girls is so subtly engaging, so quietly addictive that it's virtually impossible to pinpoint exactly when, during the listening process, you fell in love or remember your life without this sound in it. It is the work of frontman Christopher Owens and Chet White and though it comprises twelve startlingly simply tracks it seems to encompass a whole history of love songs, each of which rises to the surface at one time or another but never dominate or detract from the central voice, and it's in this voice that the addiction begins.

Recalling as much Elvis Costello as Buddy Holly or Roy Orbison, Owens' 50's drawl is so unique that it could have been the undoing here while stretched out over 44 minutes. But instead it removes the listener from this time and takes them somewhere else. It has the Golden Oldies feel to it but with sometimes crudely produced jangly guitars and Owens' acutely contemporary writing this reference simply adds to the timeless quality and injects a beautiful element of nostalgia. These are heartbreaking songs that are often centered around love lost or yearned for but the quiver and vulnerability in Owens' delivery suggest a deeper hurt. Without this suggestion Album would just be an enjoyable Beach Boys do-over but the simplicity of these songs are underpinned by an emotional complexity.

Musically it's a pretty mixed bag. It tends to divide a lot of its time between the playful jangle-pop of songs like opener Lust For Life or the heart-wrenching croon of slow-jams like Lauren Marie or Headache where we join Owens as he floats weightless in cavernous chambers of loneliness. It can then glimmer with contemporary flair and serve up the lo-fi shoegaze scuzz of Morning Light or the clipped guitar ditty God Damned. The central and most addictive song has to be the first single to be released from Album, Hellhole Ratface. It's by far the longest track and lyrically the most intriguing. As usual it's built around the simple structure that has held our hand all the way through this record. But out of this structure where Owens pines for the brighter days that are surely around the corner he lifts the song into something profoundly special as the chorus is repeated into an unnerving swirling mantra. It's pure genius and might just be one of the best songs to delightfully grace my ears this year. And it sits proud on top of an exceptional pile. These are songs that could so easily have fallen into the category of forgettable pastiche, but instead dazzle with originality and integrity. Highly recommended.

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#BC

16th Nov 2009 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Mudhoney (w/ Support from The Heads)

Koko, Camden

The Heads fuse a rhythmic, pounding and distorted barrage of psychedelia and garage rock into a calculated layering of sound-wave upon sound-wave. With shards of indie punk, a smattering of post-rock and a nod to British beat groups, The Heads are your archetypal British psych-noiseniks, destined to play to a handful of believers for the rest of their days. And you know what, they probably don't care whether they are playing in a garage or a medium sized theatre supporting Mudhoney. The Heads are rather clinical, precise, mathematical and perhaps anal about their delivery. But have they forgotten something? I dare say they have. The Heads look more like an assortment of grown up teenagers than a real band that means it, man. Remember the serious metal kids at school who practiced most evenings in the common room? We have the faceless one, with a mop of hair that curiously covers his whole face. How he hits the strings I don't know. The skinny nerd on the other side of the stage could be the bastard love child of John Denver and Thom Yorke. I kid you not. Standing almost as still as an RAF drill sergeant, the guitarist and occasional "singer" (the sound is largely instrumental bar a few mumblings here and there) is the antithesis of your typical rock n roll front man. Instead, the moves and shakes and left to the bass player, who they position in the middle. Probably to give some balance and take your mind of the other two. Gyrating to his bass and throwing looks of passion, this is the one who wants to "make it" and tries his best to make up for the rockstar shortcomings of the others. The Heads continue their rythmical drone which, with eyes closed, is a novel experience. Stage persona and attitude may seem academic, but if it's the whole theatrical package that turns you on, leave The Heads live experience to the nerdy-math rock faithful and listen to the record back home, reclining with some headphones and more than likely, you will enter the dream-space intended by these fuzzy warblers.

Mudhoney by contrast, bounce on stage and immediately slink into the low slung unpretentious hip-ness that only a Seattle band of the early 90's can. Once thrown into that whole scene that started with a "G" and shared with Nirvana, Tad and Soundgarden, Mudhoney had little in common - as did any - other than guitars, plaid shirts and the same home town. Oh and the Sub Pop Label. A dose of early Ramones simplicity and naivety together with Nuggets and Pebbles era pre-punk psych-fuzz garage-blues super fuzz and Mudhoney's genre defining sound became a blueprint which other built on, expanded and layered. But tonight we have the originals and singer and sometime guitarist Mark Arm is bouncing around the stage like a chicken possessed. All angular limbs and a flail of dirty soul vocals and the audience are already inching over to the barrier trying to touch the Seattle scene veteran. It's not long till the hits start rolling in - and not far into the set, they deliver their signature song, "Touch Me I'm Sick" at breakneck pace, with Arm on slide guitar adding a metallic zest to proceedings. Arm tells the 30-something grown up indie rock kids to mind how they go, as a bout of slamming and good natured volley of crowd surfers ensue. Mudhoney sound and look just as good as they ever did and move like a well oiled machine. Going through the motions ain't for this lot.

Photos: Al De Perez

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16th Oct 2009 - 9 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Why?

Eskimo Snow

Anticon

Without sounding like the indie-rock equivalent of Adrian Mole, Yoni Wolf's writing is certainly getting darker. The self loathing, acute honesty and constant suicide mentions that made up Alopecia were buoyed by a dry wit that made you think that he was well aware of his failings but had them under control. Eskimo Snow was written at the same time as Alopecia and the difference here is the almost complete absence of the wit which works to expose the self-loathing in all its miserable glory. But it's glorious nonetheless and further goes to highlight Yoni Wolf as one of the best writers of our time.

We were warned in recent interviews by Wolf that Eskimo Snow would be the least hip-hop of all work as Why?. I found Alopecia tough to appreciate in its early days for this very reason and while these new songs make the transformation from odd-ball hip-hop to odd-ball indie-pop totally complete the jump doesn't seem as cavernous due to its predecessor and so my appreciation of this is more instant. I don't know of an artist to have made such a successful jump and while Eskimo Snow seems like the end of something that Alopecia started it signals a bright future for this gloomy chap. It's now possible to use the word 'gloomy' with the comfort and satisfaction you might when talking about a Morrissey record. This is a 'bare-bones' album, the most stark and revealing of all their work. The confessions of insecurity and discomfort aren't masked in clever rhetoric but laid out in sometimes crude honesty. It's like he's done with talking around the subject of his own patheticness and this album is the coming-to-a-head of many factors. After this things may be different, but for now this shit just has to be said.

This pinnacle aspect of the record can be seen in all its glory on Into The Shadows Of My Embrace. Opening with the confession, "Now the world is my good confessional monkey / But it'll take a bus load of high-school soccer girls to wash those hospitals off me," he then changes up the pedestrian tempo and launches into a relentless, pounding list of confessions. As he gabbles this list his honesty is barely containable and strains to keep up with the musical tempo that dictates. After all this comes the shrieked line; "Saying all this in public should make me feel funny, but you gotta yell something you should never tell nobody." It marks the loudest his voice has ever got and heralds in a new dawn of heavy, swirling guitars.

The lyrical honesty is not the only factor that makes Eskimo Snow so stark. The song structure is so different from Alopecia that it's hard to imagine them being conceived in the same sessions. Many of these songs make no apologies for going nowhere. They either build to nothing or don't build at all. They stare you square in the face declaring, what you see is what you get. Opener These Hands should be a closing lament rather than the chosen one to welcome us all to this record. It shuffles by almost unnoticed in its misery than fades from view leaving awkward silence. And the innuendo filled Even The Good Wood Gone spends its entirety promising a crescendo, but gives up. But in anyone else's hands this would smack as a bunch of semi-thought out sketches that shouldn't have seen the light of day. Under these guys it becomes a startlingly refreshing and intricately perceived album. In its barren focus they have coaxed some of the most beautiful songs in their repertoire. One Rose and Berkley By Horseback twinkle with fragility with their shimmering piano and Wolf's clear-as-day nasal delivery.

This is a worthy answer to the staggering Alopecia and even though it may appear to be the first full step along the indie-pop road, its unbridled creativity poses more questions about the future direction of this band than answers. It may not have the shining peaks of Alopecia, it is more of a blanket soaking, but its depth is unfathomable at this early stage. The Anticon hip-hop spirit lives strong in this record so I leave you with Wolf's mission statement on the penultimate gem, This Blackest Purse. "I want to speak at an intimate decibel, with the precision of an infinite decimal / To listen up and send back a true echo, of something forever felt but never heard / I want that sharpened steel of truth in every word." Not that he's ever done anything else, if this is the only hint at where we may find this band next, I for one am all ears.

#Music
#HHG

9th Oct 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Vivian Girls

Everything Goes Wrong

In The Red

You'd be hard pushed to find a 'best of' list in 2008 that didn't feature this Brooklyn trio's eponymous self titled debut and so the expectation for the followup must have been something of an issue to overcome after such blanket praise. With it's raw punk riffs and flattend-out off-the-cuff-vocals it dazzled with immediacy, excitement and spontaneity - qualities that can easily be eradicated with the slightest bit of pressure from expectation. And when you read that the followup Everything Goes Wrong took double the time to record and is a longer record the signs point to a disappointment. However when that recording period was six days instead of three and the carefree notes of opener Walking Alone At Night greet your ears you'll only chastise yourself for such pessimism.

Everything Goes Wrong is a much darker affair than it's predecessor. With a sombre weight, the girls have jacked up the pace evolving their bubble-gum garage rock into full-on punk rock bursts. There's not such a reliance on the pop melody and seems to draw its influence on the hardcore scene more than the shoegaze tendencies that ran through the debut. All this is to it's credit however and this sophomore album effortlessly sidesteps any pressure by sounding like it was unaware of the pressure in the first place. These changes have been made without the record sounding aware of itself in the slightest. But this is no fresh-faced first-time sound. Far from it, it's a mature sound that has evolved and one that they can start to call their own. There isn't the stand-out joy of their first record and many of the songs come at you in a similar package. But the result is a wave-upon-wave effect that, after repeated subjection, sweeps you up and you're theirs.

The record may be more somber and more aggressive but the sweet vocal melodies are more beguiling as a result. They wash over the feral background easing everything into the distance and taking the listener with them. This form of attack works best on the longer songs and with few of the debuts cuts making it past the two minute mark it's quite a shock to see a good few four minuters here. Can't Get Over You and the soaring Out For The Sun never let up in pace and build a wall of sound around you that is impossible to escape even if you wanted to, and the vocal harmonies on Double Vision cast a blissful spell that seems to sum up the whole record. There's nothing better than a sophomore album that only serves to justify the debut and this builds on the success of 2008 with startling maturity and subtlety without seeming conscious at all. As they plod on to higher ground Vivian Girls cast a spell in their wake while seeming blissfully unaware of its potency.

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#BC

25th Sep 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Part Chimp

Thriller

Rock Action

Let's face it - Metal, as a musical form, is a bit crap. There are so many traps for the aspiring metal band to fall into - the hair, the clothing, the posturing, the silly artwork and the must-have body art. There's also all that singing in a monster voice stuff, and striking serious poses like the guitar solo is burning the fingers. Anyway, I thought that was why Grunge got invented - so that bands could crank up the guitars without putting on any spandex. Sadly tho', Grunge got hijacked by the MTV brigade - all looking for that big hit record with angsty vocals and the distorted guitars. That's why we have to suffer Nickelback these days. Naturally there were a handful of stalwarts who stuck with the original Grunge blueprint of maximum chunk with no added bullshit. A special mention for Dinosaur Jr and The Melvins.

London's own Part Chimp are the closest thing the UK has to Grunge's original manifesto. Let's be clear about this - they are super heavy, inventive, melodic, and original. Thriller is their 4th album, and could easily put them on the map as serious contenders in the world of sludge. There's no bullshit, the vocals are neither cookie-monster nor demonic shrieker, and the riffs are solid enough to build oil-rigs on them. The album kicks off with Trad - possibly the finest track on the album right up front and there's nothing wrong with that (refer to Led Zeppelin II). When you've got a riff like this, why make everyone wait for it? I was humming this bastard all day after I heard it. The album delivers a high standard of mid-tempo riffs and low-slung sludge - winding down for the last couple of tracks with the kind of slow doomy grinds that the Melvins got so right on Bullhead. They have a new approach to the music which is shared by the likes of Tweak Bird or Big Business - metal - but not as we know it, Jim. Even on record everything just sounds REALLY LOUD, and they have a reputation for being deafening live. If that sounds good to you, then check out this record and go see them on their forthcoming tour.

#Music
#HarrisPilton

23rd Sep 2009 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Times New Viking

Born Again Revisited

Matador

The world of DIY noise-pop is a different place now than when we last heard from Ohio trio Times New Viking. In 2008 their Matador debut Rip It Off gate crashed the scene and sounded like a major malfunction in the recording room with red lined production drenching what sounded like good pop songs. It arrived with due critical acclaim but now seems quite run-of-the-mill due to the constant stream of like minded music that has descended upon us ever since.

Whereas the master recording for Rip It Off was delivered on cassette the followup, Born Again Revisited, arrived on VHS and claims to feature "25% higher fidelity." After hearing opener Martin Luther King Day you may start to get excited about this fact. It's the most coherent song they've given us and peals away some of the tape hiss to reveal great song structure and shining vocals. Don't be fooled as this coherence is short-lived and with the arrival of I Smell Bubblegum we're back in the grit and hiss that carried with it Rip It Off.

This isn't really a criticism but merely a minor disappointment. The abrasion that dominates the next few tracks seems rather too familiar now. But things have changed with this release and without sounding like they give a monkeys what other bands are doing these songs show a greater maturity. None so effectively as No Time, No Hope. With its chiming guitars and booming bass this song gives due space to the vocals, an element much overlooked with this band, and as the narcotic organs swirl into place we get a damn near perfect song in this genre. More highlights include the Japanther-like These Days and the anthemic Move To California.

Born Again Revisited has a pleasing amount of change to it after the wealth of DIY that has come since its predecessor but also enough of Times New Viking's trademark rawness. It's far more layered and varied and that extra 25% really shows in the gleaming high points mentioned. With the genre plodding on - albeit in a somewhat tired manner now - it's up to pillar bands like this to pave the way to new lands and this is a good start to the journey.

#Music
#BC

21st Sep 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Dinosaur Jr.

Concorde 2, Brighton

The latest video from Dinosaur Jr features the three original band members J. Mascis, Lou Barlow and ‘Murph’ (Emmett Jefferson Murphy) trying to pull off the tricks of their youth on skateboards and a BMX – a self-conscious admission that past glories are almost always impossible to replicate. Happily Dinosaur Jr, with past feuds now behind them, manage it, even if they can’t ollie like they used to, because they have always been about the music. The most ardent fan would never claim that you go to a Dinosaur Jr. gig for the lightshow, political messages or the witty banter between songs. No. You just get three men, barely able to fit on stage because of the six Marshall stacks surrounding them, heads down, tearing through a stentorian catalogue of rampant songs. Mascis, with his metronome of flowing, now silver, hair, stands in front of a collection of pedals that pin him to his amp, while he assails the audience with a barrage of noise that never quite obscures the sonorous, occasionally soporific, melodies.

There was little sign of an evolution in their sound in the three decades that have elapsed between ‘In A Jar’ from 1987’s ‘You’re Living All Over Me’ that they opened with and ‘I Want You To Know’ from their new album ‘Farm’ that came next. Concorde 2 is an intimate and relaxed venue but it gives you nowhere to hide. ‘Over It’ and Freak Scene’ were predictably thrilling, tighter than Slayer, and almost as loud, it was a series of audible epiphanies with none of the self-obsessed bollocks referred to as showmanship these days. They haven’t aged in outlook and neither have their audience, all wearing the same brands as twenty years ago, (although, I did see quite a few resorting to day-glo ear plugs in an attempt to limit the damage to their not quite so young inner ears) and perhaps this is a generation that never will age in the same shuffling, resigned manner of the current crop of oldies. We’ll be wearing Vans, grubby jeans and check shirts while skateboarding through the corridors of our nursing homes with Dinosaur Jr on a loop through our hearing aids. A throbbing encore including ‘Kracked’, with an epic guitar solo finale that reminded everyone why Mascis is so revered as a guitar player, brought things to a close. He offered a single word, ‘thanks’, as they all trudged off the stage. The only full word he uttered throughout the entire ninety minute set.

Photo by Rachel Poulton. See more here.

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27th Aug 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Stardeath And White Dwarfs

The Birth

WEA

Been a while since I picked up a CD because of the band's name. In the old days, way before we were all plugged into the matrix, downloading mp3s into our eyeballs all day, you'd often find yourself taking a punt on a "record" just because the band had called themselves something kerrazy like Gaye Bykers On Acid or Butthole Surfers (who could resist an album called Hairway To Steven?) - even Sonic Youth sounded like a pretty interesting proposition...

Seeing the cover of Stardeath And White Dwarfs reminded me of those days somehow - hadn't heard anything about them, liked the artwork, thought the name was something to live up to, and figured it should be worth at least skipping through.

What a pleasant surprise then to find it's an album that more than justifies the OTT interstellar name. 

Of course, it's easy these days to find out who any freaks are: and your at-one-ness with the matrix has probably already identified Stardeath from their excellent team-up with the Flaming Lips on a Borderline cover earlier in the year. As their website freely admits, they're pretty tied in with the Lips team - 

"A lot has been made of the connection between Stardeath and The Flaming Lips, so let's go ahead and get that out of the way so we can move on. Yes, they are from Oklahoma, where the waving wheat sure tastes sweet, etc. And, yes, head Dwarf, Dennis Coyne, is the nephew of head Lip, Wayne Coyne. And, yes, three of the Dwarfs (Casey, Matt and Dennis) once formed the core of The Flaming Lips' road crew. And, yes, they have played many a show with The Flaming Lips (and will probably play many more in the future)."

- and there's some obvious comparisons with the Flaming Lips mothership running through this debut. That mix of modern psychedelic freakery and acoustic campfire singalong is a template they don't deviate far from. 

The Sea On Fire kicks off with a proper doom-rock riff kicking in after what sounds like someone plugging in; it's full of fuzz on title track The Birth; and flips into catchy rock-outs on New Heat - even into wandering into Pink Floyd Dark Side Of The Moon era instrumental bass-heaviness on Those Who Are From The Sun Return To The Sun. And, as you'd expect from a band working in the Flaming Lips tradition, Stardeath aren't afraid to pull it all back down for some mellow acoustic moments too on tracks like Smokin' Pot Makes Me Not Want To Kill Myself (hmm, wonder what that one's about?). But it's all in the best possible taste, like they've learned from an apprenticeship with master craftsmen, and have stepped out into their own practice with confidence. Look forward to hearing more from them, reckon this is a set list that should take off live.

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13th Aug 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Julien Plenti

Julien Plenti Is ...Skyscraper

Matador

I'm not sure if I'd just temporarily had enough of Interpol, but 2007's major label debut Our Love To Admire failed to engage me. Tracks (and lyrics) like 'No I In Threesome' or 'Rest My Chemistry' just made the band seem like parodies of themselves - making it easy to imagine a Saturday Night Live sketch with Will Ferrell singing his shopping list, Interpol style. I just wasn't in the mood and after a few attempts it slipped away into the abyss.

Lead singer Paul Banks is back with the band's original label - Matador - for his first solo record, under the guise of alter-ego Julien Plenti. Banks had performed under the name prior to joining Interpol in 1998 and returns to the moniker here perhaps in an attempt to to scale back the arena-baiting sound of the band's recent work. While Banks' distinctive vocals certainly define the album, it's not a simple case of lumping this in with Interpol's main body of work.

The distinctive Interpol fuzz bass is often present, and pounding drums echo around Fun That We Have and to a certain extent Games For Days (unsurprisingly drummed by Interpol stick man Sam Fogarino), but the songs maintain a more low-key approach throughout, roughing up some of the over-applied polish of later Interpol. Banks' vocals are never quite unleashed to their full volume, but songs like No Chance Survival, the strings of Girl On The Sporting News or stand-out freebie Fun That We Have show another side to Banks that works very nicely.

While this makes is a nice addition to the Interpol cannon, the record does lack wallop in places - and the aforementioned thumping drums of old favourites Obstacle #1 or Not Even Jail would certainly add a bit of clout. Hopefully this side-project will give the day-job a re-boot and we'll leave that for Interpol #4 - I'm in the mood again now.

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4th Aug 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet