Chimpomatic

Oxford Collapse

Bits

Sub Pop

Just because the Sub Pop 20 marathon is over, doesn't mean the label has stopped putting out quality records and with a squeal of burning rubber (literally) Brooklyn's Oxford Collapse kick off their fourth LP. It's an exciting start, as the twins vocals of Michael Pace and Adam Rizer battle over the clatter of drums on Electric Arc, comparing their memory skills - "I can remember things" / "I can't remember things". The almost balled-like sound of the downtempo Vernon Jackson finds the band in a reflective mood, taking their foot of the accelerator for once .....for a moment at least, before they sing "88 Miles Per Hour!" on Young Love Delivers, while orchestrated strings add a more subtle dimension to A Wedding.

While the record is certainly ambitious - building on the college radio sound of the band's previous efforts - the ideas just don't seem as well honed, making for a less successful result. The band seem to be overflowing with ideas and excitement, yet unable to quite get that all shoe-horned into focused song-writing. Bubbling guitars permeate nearly every song, while the disjointed drumming fails to lift itself up as it has previously. The charming quirkiness just doesn't gel together in many places, giving some of the songs a disjointed feel that makes them hard to grow into.

The band have scored a keg and moved into party-hard mode for Men & Their Ideas, but it's too little too late. While Remember The Night Parties was a little slow to get going, the half dozen tracks that closed out the album bumped it into my mainstaream, setting expectations high for this release. While all the ingredients from that previous recipe are here, for some reason the album just doesn't quite take off. The problems here are similar to those noted in my review of their recent Hann - Byrd EP - but where a five track EP may distract you away from the cracks, they become more evident in this longer form. While this is still a good record, rather than build on the promise of their last LP and move up to the next level the band stay put for now. I'm maintaining Oxford Collapse's status at "one to watch".

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21st Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Oxford Collapse

The Hann - Byrd - EP

Comedy Minus One

In anticipation of their recent LP Bits, Brooklyn rockers Oxford Collapse put out this 5 track EP as a quick appetiser. Sub Pop take a back seat on this one, with small label Comedy Minus One running up the 500 copy vinyl-only release. Not to worry if you're not a vinyl junkie however, as thanks to the digital revolution it's also available at your local download store.

The trade mark dual vocals of Micheal Pace and Adam Rizer are in full effect from the very start, as Internet Cafes in Micronesia are amongst the subjects covered in Bikini Atoll, before the vocals slip away and the song moves into a pounding instrumental jam. The call and response of Among Friends (mp3) doesn't quite take off, before bassist Adam Rizer takes a more central vocal role on The Pilgrim.

Things pick up with the almost line-dancing style of Genetic Engineering, peddling an amusingly sarcastic positive message. This more thought-out approach makes for a more engaging song - and once you are past the bizarre hip-hop intro, Bikini As Hole continues the approach, bookending the album with a beefed up re-working of the opening track.

While finding the band in their most familiar form - counterpoint John Hughes-esque stories of guys at parties over frenetic jangling guitars and pounding drum tracks - there's a more adventurous approach to the later music here, building on the success of Remember The Night Parties with a more considered sound. The songs don't quite have the same punch just yet, but for a mid-season EP it's a worthwhile effort. Let's hope things have beefed up for Bits, which I'll be reviewing tomorrow.

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20th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Cool Kids

The Bake Sale EP

XL Recordings

Here we have 2 teenagers from Chicago rocking fly gold chains and cheap NWA type sports hats, who assume a pastiche of a bygone era of 80's hip hop so brazenly that you'll question why you love it so much, but love it you will. Mikey Rocks and Chuck Inglish give us their debut release The Bake Sale EP, a ten track collection of stripped down, minimal beats that form the sturdy foundation for their well crafted rhymes that cover girls, bikes and breakfast cereal and all that lies in between. The english language is expertly broken down into a series of syllables that are piled on top of one another like kids building blocks. The simplicity of their delivery and subject matter disguise their complex arrangements forcing multiple plays and before you know it this EP will be under your skin.

Opener What Up Man opts for the spoken beat with rhythm being formed of the words tick, tick, clap, tick, tick, bass. It's like a DIY, Ikea flat-pack song that unfolds and dazzles with its blatant simplicity. Lead single 88 taps the retro vein with shameless confidence as does Gold And A Pager which takes its lead lyric from Ice Cubes NWA line "Fuckin' with me cause I'm a teenager, with a little bit of gold and a pager." With the deep clap beats this tune is methodical and clinical in its delivery but while assuming this plodding pace you can really take your time to marvel at the complexity of this groups writing. Bassment Party takes its influence from a Miami Bass rhythm and picks up the pace perfectly but still refrains from over complicating things.

"We're the new black version of the Beastie Boys," claim this band and that group's album Paul's Boutique is certainly brought to mind here. This ain't rocket science, it's clever, but humble about it - which makes for a dazzlingly simple album that while nodding blatantly to the past comes across as effortlessly now. Hip hop bands that take their influence from the old school tread a perilous road that soon runs out of steam. We all love the old school but it evolved for a reason and the Cool Kids inject enough of their own contemporary ideas into their sound to separate their fate from the likes of Jurassic 5. The Bake Sale is a refreshing debut indeed and one that will surely be on this reviewer's top 5 list come Christmas.

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19th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Band of Horses

Everything All Of The Time

Sub Pop

THEN: Let's suppose that My Morning Jacket had a younger brother, who hung around the practice sessions and was witness to their particular brand of genius. He's maybe thinking to himself, yeah that's pretty good - but those extended, distorted solos are a bit distracting, at times they get in the way of a nice, clean, imaginative pop song. I like the reverb on the vocals, I'll have that (It's possible that a couple of tracks were actually lifted straight from the outtakes of a MMJ session - Part One and I Go To The Barn Because I Like The could well be from At Dawn). The result is a charming, dreamy album with enough emotional weight to demand full attention. (Read our original review here)

NOW: WIth their popularity buoyed by a total market saturation of the radio friendly / soundtrack friendly / ad friendly awesomness of killer track The Funeral, Band of Horses have exploded - at least in Sub Pop terms. Strengthened by a series of blistering live shows, the band's identity has also matured - lifting them out of the My Morning Jacket sound-a-likes category into a place of their own. Packed full of great tracks - The First Song, Wicked Gill, Our Swords, The Great Salt Lake, Weed Party - rather than fading away, this album his matured and improved, contributing to their top five spot in the Chimpomatic "most-played" chart.

SUB POP SAYS: "Achieving musical transcendence is a tricky feat, almost definitively"

KILLER TRACK: The Funeral (mp3)

NEXT: 2007 - Kinski - Down Below It's Chaos

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15th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Comets On Fire

Blue Cathedral

Sub Pop

THEN: Released in the not too distant past of 2004, you could have been forgiven for thinking that Comets On Fire had been banging out this bruising musical onslaught for many moons. With two low-key releases they had gained a credible reputation which perhaps was due to their youthful energy and driving riffs, rather than the lack of tight leather trousers.

Rock music at this early point of the 21st century had also gained a resurgence and was appealing to a more mainstream audience, not that this had an effect on San Francisco-based band. With a traditional backbone of 60/70s rock music, their sound was enhanced in my opinion by an urgency and aggression that pushed them into a grey area and did limit them from a larger audience.

NOW: After numerous listens throughout the years I still find the songs only vaguely familiar; this is both a blessing and a curse. The freshness, not necessarily originality, makes each song stand up and be heard, but yet I can never recognise a track instantly nor mange to hum along. Maybe this is due to the looseness of structure or the lack of a basic repetitive beat which allows you to simply lock in and rock out! The stand-out track is Wild Whiskey, which is an instrumental that allows the instruments some breathing space; this does not mean I that I would prefer an instrumental album because the passionate cry of Ethan Miller generally gives the sound added impact. Still, the impression I was left with from this my first introduction to the band is that I want to witness them live, where I believe they would be in their element.

SUB POP SAYS: "Flag-bearers of modern psychedelia"

KILLER TRACK: Wild Whiskey

NEXT: 2005 - Low - The Great Destroyer

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15th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Sebadoh

Harmacy

Sub Pop

THEN: Sebadoh's eighth album and their fourth for Sub Pop, saw the Massachusetts (rotating) 3 piece pick-up the succesful formula of its preceeding release, Bakesale. That 1994 smash reached the dizzy heights of number 40 in the UK albums chart, thanks largely to toning down some of the more off-the-wall ideas that marked earlier records and focusing on a more consistent sound, with more emphasis on 'songs'. Harmacy picked up that baton and as a result (and perhaps inevitably) was the band's most mature release at the time.

NOW: More mature maybe, but that's not to say the imagination and slight eccentricity that has secured Sebadoh an intensly loyal fanbase (guilty) is not present here. With songwriting duties split largely evenly between Lou Barlow and Jason Lowenstein, it weaves and bobs at differing pace; from the jaunty, effortless pop (Ocean / Can't Give Up) 3 chord punk (I Smell A Rat) rocking instrumentals (Sforzando! / Hillbilly 2) and painstaking love song (Willing To Wait) all held together with a tighter production than previous releases. Basically, Harmacy sits comfortably in a formidable canon of releases from these indie rock legends.

SUB POP SAYS: "Since each member of Sebadoh writes songs, their sound can be very different from one song to the next. Where once we heard three voice screaming at once, now they talk in harmony"

KILLER TRACK: Always tricky to pick a killer from the mixed bag that is a Sebadoh record, but of the nineteen here and in the interests of fairness I'll go for (Jason's) Mindreader and (Lou's) Ocean.

NEXT: 1997 - Pidgeonhed - The Full Sentence

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13th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Earth

Earth 2

Sub Pop

THEN: Earth's first album, Earth 2 passed over me on its initial release but I do remember its cover. The white background with tasteful typography had a quality that stood out among the other alternative bands. Not that alternative is the best word to describe Earth. There was a certain amount of interest I around Earth 2, what with having such a memorable name and also the fact that no one seemed to be able to stomach the repetitive drone.

NOW: Only three songs in length but still a long player, Earth 2 is a challenge and that really is an understatement. The songs run along at a painfully slow pace and time changes are scarce. Because of the lack of variation the Earth sound could fall under the category of background music if it was not so intimidating and intense. Yet I like this album even if I can only stomach listening to one song at a time. Earth have gone on to expand their sound and improve, thankfully into something more substantial.

KILLER TRACK: Definitely one of the first 3.

NEXT: 1994 - Sunny Day Real Estate - Diary

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12th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Nirvana

Bleach

Sub Pop

THEN: Decent debut from Seattle scenesters that didn't make much of an impact until Nevermind's all-conquering success brought fans back looking for more.

NOW: Very much the sound of a band finding their feet (oh look there they are, inside our Chuck Taylors). Intimate production makes it sound like you're in the studio with them. A lot of Bleach (Negative Creep, Paper Cuts, Swap Meet etc) feels like heavy metal being played by punks who can't solo that proficiently, but still know their way around a riff. Which in a way is what grunge was really. Most of the tracks here are a lot heavier than the quiet-LOUD-quiet template they ripped off borrowed from Pixies later. Notable for having pre-Dave Grohl era drummers Chad Channing and Dale Crover in the band - they're solid, but nowhere near as tight as Grohl - confirming long-held chimp theory that a drummer is the key for a decent band to reach real greatness. Launches straight into their "singalong with the riffs" style of song writing with Blew; Floyd The Barber's a heavy sludgeathon; About A Girl is the only song that really sounds like "Nirvana" - clean guitars until the solo etc, a pretty poppy chorus riff - it's almost like an early Beatles track.

SUB POP SAYS: "These guys are gonna get big!"

KILLER TRACK: About A Girl

NEXT: 1990 - L7 - Smell The Magic

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11th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Ponytail

Ice Cream Spiritual

We Are Free

Ponytail are are four-piece band from Baltimore featuring two guitarists, a drummer and the individual vocal stylings of singer Molly Siegel (Yep, Harris Pilton scores a review for another band with no bass player. Must be something about 2008, because that's the third band this year that eschews the services of the lower frequencies). So, on the one hand here is a band which doesn't rumble the floor (bad), but on the other hand, they are also a band which still sound great when they throw the rule book out of the window (good).

There's nothing as straightforward as a song here, well not the sort of song you could sing the words along to, nor the sort that is served up in a verse/chorus framework, but nevertheless the sound Ponytail deliver is still very catchy, joyful and full of poppy hooks and melodies. Everything is pretty frantic - drummer Jeremy Hyman serves up solid garage rock rhythms at a furious pace while the twin guitars of Ken Seeno and Dustin Wong riff, battle, noodle, wig out and mash together in an unremitting orgy of late-60's inspired jamming. Meanwhile in the few remaining upper-mid frequency gaps, Molly Siegel vocalises her way through the entire record like a day-glo toy on happy juice. Screeching, yelling, making mouth noises and sometimes flirting with a melody, Siegel manages to swerve the band's sound away from The Allman Brothers (acknowledged in one track title) and into a land of dementedly happy ultra-neon flowers and sunshine, all racing by at a breakneck speed making your head spin from an overdose of colour saturation.

It's noisy, and it's fun, so go check it out. But it is full on from the word go and pretty much relentless. Most of the time the band sound like they've just hit the final minute of an already epic number and are pulling all their freak-out chops for the big final chord - except Ponytail start their songs that way then carry on from there. Wacky, but in a good way.

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8th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Bowerbirds

Hymns For A Dark Horse

Dead Oceans

In their original incarnation, Bowerbirds were a duo consisting of guitarist and principal songwriter Phil Moore and accomplished painter Beth Tacular (great name) assuming accordion and percussion duties. Before the recording of their debut album, Hymns For A Dark Horse, they were joined by Mark Paulson who has added vital instrumental layering to their compositions, bringing piano, violin and added percussion to the band. This album was originally released in 2007 on Burly Time Records but is given a rerun this August with added tracks by the Jagjaguar affiliate Dead Oceans. Currently on tour with Bon Iver, Bowerbirds continue the gentle wave of grass-roots American folk that is warming hearts across the globe.

An unassuming Hooves nudges this record into the light as it emerges quiet and lonely. The accordion provides glimmers of warmth until the multiple vocals arrive for the chorus. All these elements are exploited to greater effect on the following track. In Our Talons assumes a brisker pace with homemade drums click-clacking in the distant background and the rising voices lifting the song to its climax of "No, you're not alone." Dark Horse's violins soar with gentle melancholic sunshine like kind words spoken to a broken heart.

It's the group harmonies that provide the essential ingredient on this album. Moore's solo vocals have an easy croon to them but it's when he is joined by what sounds like more than 2 more voices that each song is lifted from simple singer/songwriter outpourings to majestic pieces of heartfelt beauty. Musically each song relies on two main factors, the whispering accordion that faithfully accompanies each vocal journey, and secondly it's the DIY drum beats that follow behind. As if being played with sticks on the kitchen table, this makeshift beat provides the record with its earthy rawness and as they seem to come from way back in the distance they provide a hollow element to the sound. The inevitable reaction that takes place when this emptiness is filled by the gathering vocal harmonies is the ultimate success of the record.

The comparisons to the aforementioned Bon Iver come not simply through the record company they are both associated with, but from an obvious ethos that surrounds the music they create and the life they live outside of this music. Moore and Tacular live in an Airstream trailer on a quiet plot of land on the outskirts of Raleigh in North Carolina and it's this sort of organic, rural and simple way of life that permeates every second of this record. It informs its unpretentious wishes and helps deliver on its honest expression. There are differences of course: Bon Iver aims to conjure a greater sense of loneliness and does it with dazzling effect. Hymns isn't so dazzling and Moore's voice lacks the captivation of Justin Vernon's and when left alone for too long can slip into a mediocre folk sound. Album closer Matchstick Maker illustrates this tendency to tread water. With no obvious centre to the song it can drift along in an unfocused haze as if guided by Adem. But thankfully for us this seldom happens and the result is a work of real beauty. Jagjaguar and it's affiliated labels are providing the backbone to this years top releases and while Bowerbirds may not leap from the pile like some of the others, it resides near the top of the heap as a band clearly in love with their craft.

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31st Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Port O'Brien

All We Could Do Was Sing

City Slang

Van Pierszalowski, the front man for this Californian band, spends 3 months of the year on a salmon trawler on Kodiak Island, Alaska which goes some way to explain the great seafaring influence that dominates their sound - and like the sonic waves that wash over every moment of this record, Port O'Brien find themselves on distant and far richer shores than were explored on their debut.

2007's The Wind And The Swell was less of a debut and more of a compilation of the best of their self-released efforts, but it was very much a stripped down folk affair comprising of mainly guitar and vocals and tinny lo-fi drumming. It's very much a different story here with All We Could Do Was Sing, which curiously kicks off the same way their previous album did - with the frenzied group sing-along of I Woke Up Today. It's given a major overhaul this year but does slightly mislead the listener as to the general direction of this record. Stuck On A Boat is way more representative with its deep guitars and hollow vocals. It's a simple song vividly placing Pierszalowski on his Dad's trawler, it takes its time with the basic rhythmic structure but its glorious swathes of pastoral strings instantly hail the arrival of a whole new band. Fisherman's Son sees our protagonist leave his coastal roots and up and move to the city. Great waves of drums pick this song up and launch it into a vibrant gallop accompanied again by the string section.

Port O'Brien have developed many strings to their bow and this record is full of ideas that span more tempos than their debut hinted at. Songs like Pigeonhold show the band baring its teeth with crashing cymbals and truncated guitar solos that squeal and wine, until the strained vocals bring the whole thing to a calamitous close. This electric injection raises this band from the alt-folk wilderness that they threatened to reside in. The penultimate Close The Lid sees them perfect this element of their sound with a textbook indie jangle that lets rip into a joyous ramshackle of drums and raw vocals. Then as a total antithesis comes the frail closing sound of Valdez. More in line with the earlier songs this finishes the album with melancholic fragility and is the sonic opposite of how the record began. These polar bookends that contain this record illustrate perfectly the rich tapestry that Port O'Brien has woven. They may not be reinventing anything here, but as an example of a rock group that strives to evolve their sound, Port O'Brien's journey from lo-fi folk to indie rock confidence has resulted in a full bodied and endlessly listenable album.

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28th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Lil Wayne

Tha Carter III

Cash Money

Hailed as the "most anticipated release of 2007", Lil Wayne's first full album since Tha Carter II in 2005 saw such an unprecedented leak rate that it got pushed back for a 2008 release and has since sold more than a million copies in it's first week. All this acclaim and expectation could spell the demise of a hip hop act such as Wayne but Tha Carter III is a piece of work that more than lives up to its hype and sees this truly unique MC occupying even weirder and bolder territory than ever.

On one of the stand out tracks, Dr. Carter, Wayne assumes the role of doctor and the patient is hip hop. Various symptoms present themselves at the start like lack of confidence, bad concepts, weak flow and no style and by the end he claims to have "saved hip hop." This arrogance is justified as he takes us step by step through just why he is more than qualified to be the self proclaimed saviour. And hip hop has never sounded healthier than on Carter III.

With his grizzly delivery and slow, erratic flow Lil Wayne fills every album with an overflowing quantity of ideas. He has experimented so much with his voice and can swing from a deep menacing growl (Phone Home) to weazle-like ragga-monotone rapid fire (A Milli). Each track demonstrates his lyrical prowess as he changes subject faster than a cornered politician. The production is tight with multi layered beats and deep soulful melodies. There is some great samples, most notably the David Axelrod melody on Dr. Carter and Nina Simone on the overlong Don't Get It. Wayne seems so at ease with the music, as he takes his time delivering vivid metaphors it's as if the beats have to keep up with him. Let The Beat Build demonstrates hip hop's unique freedom to allow songs that are about nothing but hip hop itself. The song is centered around Wayne's grasp of beat timing and that's about it, but it works tremendously. Mid-way through the song everything goes quiet until Wayne whispers, "As I hit the kill switch / Now that's how you let the beat build bitch." Songs like Shoot Me Down show the MC soul-searching with dark, brooding atmospherics that build to his end statement "watch me soar, where the fuck is my guitar?" and a screeching chord brings the whole thing to a close. It's followed by it's antithesis, Lollipop. The first official single, this is a made-for-radio song that is centered round a shameless confectionary-based sexual innuendo. It's good but it's nothing 50 Cent didn't already tell us in Candy Shop.

Lollipop, while a solid tune, does contain elements of where this album, for me, strays from its focus and that'll be in its R n B tendencies. I rarely venture into mainstream hip hop such as this, for this very reason. Hip hop is the biggest selling genre in the US and can't do too bad over here either, but I can't help feeling that this statistic comes about largely due to the genre boundaries being heavily blurred and when hip hop strays into RnB territory the market expands. R Kelly isn't hip hop and Kanye West isn't RnB. Songs like Got Money and Comfortable seem to dilute this MC's dazzling writing skills not to mention Mrs Officer, a song who's principle theme is a female cop sexual fantasy.

So that's the bitching out the way and now down to business. This guy can turn a phrase better than most and that's the sole reason to listen to this album. Unlike many of his contemporaries Wayne doesn't lace every rhyme with the same concepts and themes and so in that respect he is hard to pin down. He isn't a thug rapper, a smut rapper or an indie-poet, he's all that and more. He covers many topics with impressive eloquence. Here's a few.

Excretion: You're like a bitch with no ass, you aint got shit. (A Milli)

Grammar: "I don't owe you like two vowels." (A Milli)

Will Smith movies: "I got so many bitches like I was Mike Lowry."(A Milli)

Ailments: "I Got Swagger tighter than a yeast infection" (Dr Carter)

Cooking: "Don't I treat you like soufflé?" ( Comfortable)

Confectionary: "So I let her lick the (w)rapper" - (Lollipop)

French: "I'm all about oui like Paris / Hilton presidential suite already." (La La)

Finance: "You better pay me cos you don't want my problems / I'll be wiling like Capital One, what is in your wallet" (You Aint Got Nuthin.)

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24th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Ratatat

LP3

XL Recordings

LP3 is the follow up to 2006's Classics and unlike its predecessor it was recorded in a very short space of time. Mike Stroud and Evan Mast recorded LP3 at Old Soul Studios, a large old house in a the small town of Catskill in upstate New York, and this change of venue has had a significant effect on the Ratatat sound, sort of. Though the core qualities remain intact there is a much fuller emphasis on keyboards and live instrumentation rather than programmed beats. All this is layered over their trademark swathes of synths and complex beat arrangements to form a rich tapestry indeed. The problem is, all this occurs in the first half of the album and is soon forgotten by the time we get to the end.

Mi Viejo uses delightful percussion over delicate guitar conjuring images of mysterious far off lands and as it plays out with a bongo drum solo it fades into Mirando, another complex amalgamation of swirling organs and rich percussion. Whereas Classics relied on guitar as its main sound, LP3 embraces a much wider array of musical instruments and sources from the hand-clap-like beat of Imperials to the skipping piano of Brulee. These touches raise the first half from the rest and see them standing proud as beacons of a way forward.

The beats do occasionally slip into synthesized obscurity that often flattens the record out and forces many of the songs into the background. Instrumental bands such as this have to work hard to raise each song from the sea of beats that sits stagnant below and without doing this many of these songs can slip by unnoticed. Songs like Dura and Shempi are well crafted but fail to move the sound on from the other albums and while retaining a core sound across records is admirable if little is brought to the table in terms of new thought, an unmemorable 40 minutes can slip by quite easily. I am not saying that is the case here but the key points where the listener is alerted all seem to happen in the first half with the rest of the record trailing off into mediocrity. The same guitar/organ swirl permeates nearly every song and threatens to bury all the delicate complexities that delight during the early stages. By the time we get to the album closer Black Heroes the band themselves seem bored and ready to finish which is in direct contrast to how they started, both on this record and their career in general.

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11th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

White Denim

Workout Holiday

Full Time Hobby

My apologies for the late arrival of this review but the sheer workload that is piled on me from this site means I tend to stop listening to a record once the review is done, and I really didn't want to stop listening to this. It seems as far as indie music is concerned all the ideas these days are coming from the US and arriving hot on the heals of the recent No Age record, White Denim's Workout Holiday not only reinforces this perception but positively hammers the point home.

Having been stuck in my car with only this CD for company, Workout Holiday has literally been thoroughly road tested and due to the nature of this listening experience I started formulating some driving metaphors in my head. One of the most exciting features of this band is what I call their 'gear shift' capabilities and by that I mean their penchant for ditching an idle pace for a sudden and electrifying upshift. So I started comparing this record to the experience of, as a youngster, trading your crappy 1 litre MG Metro for a one-time-only excursion down the road in your dads car. But then comparing this band to a high performance dad-car couldn't be further from the truth, I would have to leave that to a Metallica album. No, White Denim is more like getting into the same piece-of-shit Metro with the rusty body-work, decrepit brakes and highly questionable frame, only to find someone has switched your 1 litre engine for a super hybrid piece of engineering complete with flux capacitor that runs on plutonium.

Workout Holiday is highly charged, punk-infused rock that knows no boundaries or limitations. It comes from the Austin, TX trio following their 2007 debut 7" EP Lets Talk About It. It features 4 tracks from the EP which is slightly disappointing, but has become one of the most exciting records to bombard my eager ears for some time. White Denim walk the precarious line between genius and utter chaos, with each song fooling you into thinking it has no clue where it's going. It's ramshackle guitar chords race headlong into the distance with the makeshift rhythm section struggling to keep up, and the vocals erratically punctuating this mess when and where they feel like it. The result is an electrifying run of songs, no two alike, that never end where they start and this unpredictability seems to catch you out every time, making each listen a unique experience.

The EP tracks still form some of the strongest of these 12. Both Lets Talk About It and the following track Shake Shake Shake follow similar structures with furious, guitar driven first halves being taken down a notch at the midway point for an emerging instrumental ending that constantly threatens to finish but, as if with shear enthusiasm, keeps going and going. Sitting changes the pace with a bar-room singalong that sees singer James Petralli opening the vocals like Anthony And The Johnsons. It's a jaunty little number and the most conventional on the album.

Mess Your Hair Up seems to embody this band perfectly. It's opening section is a pretty non-descript mess of buried vocals, but as the mess gets thicker the feint screech of a guitar chord rises from the bog and takes the song off into unforeseen territory. As usual the band seem to be enjoying this change-up so much that they keep it going, reinventing different drum patterns just as the song should be finishing. Towards the end of the record comes a late heavyweight in the form of Don't Look That Way At It. Opening with a sound as erratic as a bucket of marbles being poured over a guitar, it sets up a bubbling cacophony of noise that trickles along at a steady pace, it maintains this complex and crammed formation until the midway point where the fuel injectors kick in The deep drums suddenly give way to crashing snare and cymbal and the complex guitar arrangements are smoothed out to driving chords. It's impressive to say the least.

The two instrumental songs here, Look That Way At It and WDA, sound less like conscious decisions to give space to the record and more like a band who are making things up as they go along and are way too into their instruments to bother with vocals, which may be in there somewhere but have been long buried beneath the ever mounting layers of sound. And this goes some way to describe this album. Each song stumbles into the other and the record just delivers idea after idea without becoming precious about any. They'll set up an impressive first half then tear it down like reckless hooligans. And here lies the diamond in this rough album. A better record may well crop up this year but I doubt if I will see such a reckless approach to an album. As one idea is discarded for another you get the impression that this liberation comes from a knowledge that there are more to follow. You get to the end of the album and instead of wanting to rewind you want to hear the next record, but as this isn't possible you'll have to settle for back to back plays. Highly recommended.

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10th Jul 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Tricky

Knowle West Boy

Domino

Knowle West Boy kicks off with Puppy Toy, a bluesy bar-room brawl being played out late at night; Bacative sounds like a Maxinquaye outtake, C'mon Baby's a stomp-rock and Council Estate is the sort of song that only Tricky can pull off - 2:39 of what's basically a single riff packed with furious drums that can barely contain their excitement at getting to pull off another roll, vocals dropping into dub echo chambers, Rage Against The Machine-style distortion that all stops as suddenly as it starts. Throughout this great album there are harmonicas floating over ragga-lines, smokey female voices, keyboard washes, rock guitars, heavy heavy beats - and a Kylie cover thrown in for the fun of it. 

There's so much going on in this album it puts most other recent records to shame - it's like Tricky has absorbed everything that's great about British music and distilled it here, leaping around without worrying about "confusing his audience" or "not being coherent" or any of that marketing crapola that blands out so much of focus grouped modern culture. It's hyperactive without being ADD - there's so much attention to detail here, so much love of the sheer joy of making music, that it's a totally infectious, convincing project.

It's like he's made a great mixtape using only Tricky songs. He so generous with singing duties, employing so many different vocalists (especially women) that it's easy to keep checking your iPod to make sure it hasn't slipped into shuffle after a few tracks. 

Like Beck's new one Modern Guilt (released on the same day), it's a return to form that makes you remember why you thought he was so great in the first place (and makes you think you might have been missing out in the interim).

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7th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Paul Weller

22 Dreams

Yep Roc Records

It's been a long time since I thought about getting a new Paul Weller album. Always liked The Jam, but was too young to really love them; totally got into The Style Council when they broke, and still rate Café Bleu as an all-time favourite; loved the freedom of the first two solo albums... but somehow, lost sight of what he's been up to for a bit. Guess it's something to do with being tarred with the whole "dad-rock" brush, or hanging out w the Gallaghers or something.

So it's a great surprise to get so into 22 Dreams. He rocks out, pulls it back, gets folkie, does some trippy jams, throws in some great lines, and just seems to be freer and enjoying the process more than he has for ages. 

Acoustic opener Light Nights floats into the storming Stax beat of the title track, which segues into classic Weller-in-love mode All I Wanna Do (Is Be With You). The breezy summer riffing of Have You Made Up Your Mind turns into the joyful strings of Empty Ring, then brings things down with piano on Invisible (even if it's a bit hard to believe the idea of Paul Weller being invisible, it's still a great song). 

Then the album pulls one of its many U-turns - heading into a full-on free jazz moment with no less than Robert Wyatt on trumpet in Song for Alice (Dedicated to the Beautiful Legacy of Mrs. Coltrane) - a totally convincing pastiche of Coltrane's psychedelic epics (although he keeps things to a restrained 3.38). It's a brilliant, left-field move, the sort of "well, why shouldn't I?" move that gives this album its energy that continues through pretty much the remaining 15 dreams here.

If you've ever been into any of Weller's many changing moods, this is a recommended return.

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1st Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Radiohead

Victoria Park, London

June 24th, 2008

In our recent interview with Silver Jews front man David Berman, he described festivals as a form of mass date-rape, where you get a load of willing victims into a field and rob them of what they think they hold dear. He also directed a few comments towards Radiohead, so while I stood for hours in a queue for beer in Victoria Park for the first night of the Radiohead extravaganza, my thoughts turned towards Berman's comments and what he might make of this. The band had turned Victoria Park into their own festival and it was huge. Swarms of people queued for food and drink, Berman would have puked. When the band started up, my intentions of getting near to the front were seriously downgraded so I had to settle for 80 meters back catching a fleeting glimpse of the pin prick on the horizon that I presumed was Thom Yorke.

So the venue was way too big, there were way too many dickheads in the crowd who had clearly come to chat to one-another rather than watch the show and I was way too far away for my liking. But, the music was sensational. I realised that night that Radiohead's music needs to be heard under an open sky. In this context it doesn't matter where you are standing as simply turning your gaze skyward releases this music into infinity where it belongs. It was such a still night and the sound drifted across to me perfectly. Set-wise it was a different story to the Hammersmith gig in 2006, with pretty much all of In Rainbows getting a thorough airing along with many choice morsels from Kid Amnesiac. Hail To The Thief was severely neglected with only There There representing and when any of the older songs cropped up they were not your usual choices. But this was the story of the night for me. I've heard Karma Police, Paranoid Android, The Bends and Fake Plastic Trees countless times live, but tonight it was a case of rediscovering under appreciated gems. Jonny Greenwood excelled himself on many occasions but his layered sampling on Climbing Up The Walls was truly stunning and coupled with Yorke's hauntingly lazy vocals this emerged as a surprising high point.

With each Radiohead gig I attend, I crave less and less these old favorites as the new songs - whether released or not - are so fresh and live. In Rainbows doubled in size under this still night sky with songs like Reckoner, Jigsaw and the chilling atmospherics of Videotape beaming up into the air with euphoric majesty. As Yorke retreated to the second drum kit for Bangers & Mash, Jonny Greenwood was left unattended up the front - an opportunity he seized with both hands providing a seriously fucked up, twisted version of this already raw track with avant guard screeches darting from his contorted guitar like a modern-day Coltrane. The whole evening was brought to an all too early close with one of the best moments of the night. The two big screens that flanked the stage displayed some multi angle camera work split into 4 sections, but as the opening chords of You And Who's Army? crept into view the whole screen was filled with a huge Yorke eye as he stretched up to pear into the lens. This minimal song with it's weary vocals accompanied by this all-seeing eye was mesmerising and as it gave way to the frenetic beats of Idioteque the night was complete.

Outdoor gigs always take shape as night falls and never has this been more true than here. As Yorke emerged after the encore and played a stripped down piano version of The Eraser's Cymbal Rush you could have heard a pin drop out there in that park. The shear size of the venue occasionally diluted the experience, as it's hard to feel connected to a band when you're so far away - but for a long term fan like myself to be reintroduced to songs I know so well is a treat and an unexpected delight. This band have all bases covered, from the light show to the live video art that attempts to do way more than simply show the people at the back what's going on. I would have to disagree with Mr. Berman, as on leaving the park I was buoyant with having been in the presence of greatness and though I strained to see anything and queued for an eternity in my own personal headspace I was flying.

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#BC

27th Jun 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Windsor For The Derby

How We Lost

Secretly Canadian

Certainty is luxury these days, I mean to really know something for sure be it good or bad. I know England aren't going to go out of Euro 2008 to Portugal, I know I'll never pay money to see a Tarantino movie again. Musically, I know I'd rather stick pins up under my finger nails than go to a Kaiser Chiefs concert and that Michael Jackson's Billie Jean is one of the greatest 3 minutes life is likely to provide. So all these things are banked, I know where I stand, but the same can't be said for my feelings for Windsor For The Derby. In my vast gamete of appreciation that holds Billie Jean at one end and Kaiser Chiefs at the piss stinking other, Windsor For The Derby would probably fit in the better half - occasionally creeping towards the top but then slipping back down to the wasteland of the middle ground. When they creep slowly in the direction of the the hallowed Billie Jean pinnacle it would be during the eight minutes plus of the blissful The Melody Of A Fallen Tree which opened their 2004 album We Fight Till Death. This song is so pleasing, so complete and so sublime it tears the rest of the record down around it. The record is by no means bad, in fact there are some great moments but none that come close to its opener, and the same could be said for their follow up, How We Lost.

The success of The Melody Of A Fallen Tree throws my certainty out the window with this band. My love for it casts a searching eye around the songs that lie at its feet and though their are many a fine moment on How We Lost I am agin left wanting and confused. None of them come anywhere near the depths of the Keiser Chiefs but in a way I wish they would, at least then I'd know where I stand.

This band's talent lies in 2 thongs, their courage to go on past 4 minutes, although only 2 of them hit the 5 minute mark here, and their Krautrock/Joy Division/ New Order tendencies. When all of these things happen in the same song their position on the scale shifts in their favor. The album starts off well with the hollow sounding Let Go kicking things off and the gritty guitars of Maladies continuing the momentum. Fallen Off The Earth sees the band in familiar territory with steady rhythm building slowly but surely to a subtly layered finale. But it's Hold On that picks this album up by the scruff of it's neck and carries it to greener pastures. Running down the center of the record Hold On's patience and persistence reminds me of why I think I sort of like this band. It maintains the same steady pace as its predecessors but where lesser songs would reach for the fade button this one forges on, long outlasting the gentle vocals with a majestic guitar solo. It aint Melody but hey, it's getting there.

The trouble is it's surrounded by the usual fillers that ultimately condemn this album to yet another not quite memorable effort that does little to convince me of my opinion of this band. There's way too many ambient time wasters that only serve to dry up the once rich pastures of the mentioned high points, leaving a slightly moist wasteland of mediocrity.

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26th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Wooden Shjips

Vol. 1

Holy Mountain

The other day I got a wide diameter drill bit, fastened it to a pretty heavy-duty machine and preceded to bore a hole steadily through my skull. Of course the pain was immense but the feeling I was after just wasn't there, it just wasn't doing it for me. So a friend said I should try the new singles collection by San Francisco quartet Wooden Shjips and you know what? It hit the mark a treat. If I was a purist in my reviewing ethos then I should really leave you here, but that would be doing a disservice to this band. I think perhaps they need further explanation. So by way of loyalty to you, my readers, I will attempt to listen to this record again.

Vol. 1 is a collection of Wooden Shjips' three previous releases that are now out of print. The 2006 free released EP Shrinking Moon For You, the Dance California 7" and the SOL 7" all received critical acclaim on release and rightly so. My drill analogy is actually spot-on if slightly childish. You'll see this from the opening track Shrinking Moon. Wooden Shjips pump out tightly wound psych rock on a grand scale. In the first few bars they introduce their tools, i.e. hazy guitar drone and often pounding rhythm and pretty much stick with this limited palette through the duration of the session, and it will seem like a session. They keep a steady pace, swirling from ear to ear in a psychedelic frenzy.

Shrinking Moon encapsulates this band perfectly and convincingly sets the agenda early on, and the agenda is: this is not mum, chick or office-friendly. At over eight and a half minutes long you'll be either electrified from the outset or seriously wishing you hadn't put this on. Its tempo is misleading as it hints at regularity with rhythmical guitars and jangling bells but after five minutes without a change you know you're dealing with a band with a keen eye on fucking with your brain. With buried vocals and screeching tones this opener is truly captivating in its single mindedness. But captivating it might be, it's not something you'll want to dwell on so I have to move on, sorry.

Deaths Not Your Friend ploughs similar territory but brings the vocals slightly more to the foreground while Space Clothes breaks from tradition totally and delivers looped interview samples played backwards and forwards all to the sound of running water, bird song and a fucking annoying mosquito like tone. Its effect is surprising as you start to wish for the drill bit again, you're starting to miss the pain you see. It's what all good torturers are taught to do.

Thankfully Clouds Over Earthquake starts the machine up and bores deeper than any other. It's a modest 4.16 minutes but boy does it hurt. The drums are virtually drowned out by the guitars here who manage to reach new heights in monotony and ear piercing agony.

Thank christ I only have two more songs to review before I can shoot myself in the head.

With the introduction of your new tormentor, Dance California takes it slow. The deal is the same but it just takes longer. Like a slow rain soaking you to the bone this song rides celestial waves of dreamy psychedelia but drips filth from every pore. Vocals ooze out in a drugged out haze, drenched in reverb and swirling organs.

One more...

You're on your knees now and as you look at the time line for the final track Sol '07 your heart sinks, 11.40. Your not going to survive this, they've won the psychological battle and your will starts to break. But they don't just want to break you, they want to change you profoundly. I'd like to tell you that Sol '07 traverses many tempos and levels during its marathon eleven minutes but to lie to you now would be cruel. It doesn't. It's steady, relentless, shrouded in muffled noise and never lets up, you can skip on all you like but it doesn't change, you'll think your skip button is bust, it ain't. It finishes off a seriously intense thirty five minutes that hurts like fuck but boy is it addictive. This band give you nothing but like a released prisoner missing his captor, you'll come begging for more. Vol. 1 plays out like a long lost masterpiece by a forgotten band when in fact it's a singles collection by a band without an album yet and that just adds to the excitement this record generates.

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12th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Robert Pollard

Robert Pollard Is Off To Business

Guided By Voices Inc.

After the many, many, many quick-turnaround releases since the demise of GBV, it's often been Robert Pollard's lack of focus that has drawn critism. Albums seemingly get released when any 12 new songs are complete - and the results have been inconsistent to say the least.

With Robert Pollard Is Off To Business however, the charismatic front man's intention to knuckle down and produce a focused 'rock' record is clear from the start. Opener The Original Heart immediatly recalls the sound of 70's Peter Gabriel - a sound Pollard is a sure fan of, after GBV's rousing cover of Solsbury Hill on their Electrifying Conclusion tour. The classic rock continues straight into The Blondes and, while the song is far from being a carbon copy, it's the guitar intro from Led Zeppelin's Tangerine providing the unlikely reference point. While I would have never doubted Pollard as a Led Zeppelin fan (who isn't?) I could probably not have picked a band as seemingly far removed from Pollard's brand of low-fi bombastics.

Off To Business is definitely one of the most direct records amongst the Pollard cannon in quite some time and on the whole it's a rewarding listen. Multi-instrumentalist Todd Tobias provides the backing as usual - and while the intention is all good it can sound a little thin in places, almost as if a one-man-band is providing the sound, rather than a fully fleshed out band and lavish production. But seriously, what were you expecting?

Killer track No One But I is easily up there with GBV's best, with it's understated verses providing a calm before the ever ascending chorus. It's quickly followed by the equally engaging Weatherman and Skin Godess, and the condensed rock of To The Path!, which crams the contents of a Yes epic into a mere 3 minutes 25.

At 10 songs and 33 minutes it's over before it has begun and for once I'm left wanting more, not less. After amicably departing from Merge Records after a four year stint, this is the first (of presumably many) records to be released directly by Pollard, through his own label - Guided By Voices Inc. Hopefully it marks the start of a succesful new chapter.

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11th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

My Morning Jacket

Evil Urges

Rough Trade

Following 2005's stellar album Z, My Morning Jacket continue to forge forward, cutting their own path through modern music. From the opening song, this is an unusual album that will not fail to surprise any existing fan. With Joe Chiccarelli at the controls, many of the band's trademark sounds have been left behind and many more contemporary influences have been brought in, signaling an attempt to widen the band's appeal with a more 'modern' sound. Although here 'modern' seems to mean the 70's and 80's - rather than 60's.

Opener Evil Urges expands on some of the disco sounds that started to appear on Z, but with Jim James reverb heavy sound on the back burner the song opts for an unrecognisable vocal style, perhaps best described as 'Bee-Gees'. Touch Me I'm Going To Scream seems to unsuccessfully re-work the melody from Z's far superiors It Beats 4U, but the most unusual is yet to come.

There was a never a more apt song title than Highly Suspicious, as while the paranoid tale of 'British Bobbies' pounding down the door attempts to deal with the modern Big Brother society it unintentionally reduces the listener to a baffled state - with the multi-tracked vocals of "Highly Suspicious!" hollering over the pounding funk beat. As a band, My Morning Jacket have often been compared to Neil Young - and it's a comparison that is still apt here, but unfortunately the album in question would be Neil Young's misfiiring electronic effort of the early 80's - Trans. Like that record, the attempt to connect with a 'modern' audience has produced a record more out of touch than ever before.

It's hard to tell the reasoning behind this move, as Z was an outstanding improvement on an already outstanding sound. It was a huge step forward and in many ways a departure from their previous records, but there was a solid core to it that maintained everything there was to like about the band. Perhaps that record was such a success that the band saw no restrictions on moving even further forwards with this release - or that they were held back with Z and it was a record that didn't pay off. Only time will tell.

It doesn't all miss the target of course and even title song Evil Urges has the makings of a great track, let down by the affected vocals. Once you're past the bewildering few openers things do settle down, with the more familiar sound of I'm Amazed, Thank You Too or Look At You, although admittedly some of these tracks would only rate as standard fare on an album like It Still Moves. The Librarian is a pleasant enough song, but the lyrics are so screamingly cringe-worthy ("Take off those glasses and let down your hair for me") that it's hard to see past them - to what presumeably isn't just about Jim James falling for the plain jane who showed him how to use the 'interweb', but is in fact advice to be 'happy with the inner you'. And not end up like Karen Carpenter. While the bands lyrics have never been deep or profound, there was always a sense of something beneath the surface and the emotional delivery of songs like The Bear or Gideon left the listener with plenty to think about.

Things do get back to the level you would expect from this band towards the end, with Remnants and the prog rock vibe of Touch Me I'm Going To Scream Part 2. Smokin From Shootin' is the album's one truly spectaucular track, but it's too little too late, leaving a spotty success rate that is hardly equal to the numerous highlights of previous albums. This unique band have taken their music in a new direction and while it is still certainly a unique sound I'm afraid to say that at the moment it's a direction I'm unlikley to follow them down. In many ways this is still a good record, with plenty to reccomend it over much of the junk that passes for music these days, but next to much of the band's other work it pales in comparison. Maybe I'm just not ready for it yet, and my kids are going to love it.... but 25 listens in it still isn't clicking and I can't help but feel disappointed.

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6th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Shearwater

Rook

Matador Records

2006's Palo Santo marked a bit of landmark for Shearwater with Jonathan Meiburg taking center stage as lead vocalist and the result was a much fuller sound that was way more ambitious than any of the bands previous work. The followup Rook has much work to do to keep up with its predecessor and despite a few bumps I'm pleased to report a worthy successor has taken up the crown.

The arresting cover image depicts a dark figure of a man with arms outstretched and cloaked head to foot in a swarm of rooks, His face is unrecognizable through the mass of feathered bodies and as you make your way down his solemn frame birds burst through his coat and emerge from pockets. He stands on a barren shoreline and the pallet for this scene is somber and dark with no hint of colour. While listening to the 10 tracks within, this image starts to take on new resonance and meaning. Rook is very much concerned with man's intersection with the natural world in all its facets from hunter to prey to the eventual extinction of species including mankind itself. Much of the record seems to come from a place so barren and wild that the very existence of human beings appears as nothing more than a haunting memory. Much like Palo Santo the music here can shift violently from a frail whisper to a calamitous boom and with Meiburg's unmistakable guidance Rook becomes a record of great visual power.

Though this record starts and finishes with two fine songs they don't seem like the right choices and had they been put in a different order Rook would work better as a complete concept. On The Death Of The Waters breathes life into the record with the faintest of breaths. Meiburg's vocals are as grey and as still as a winters day until the crashing waters change the scene in the form of a cacophonous orchestra. The violence of the two halves do seem to jar this early on in the record and it's not until the warmth of the opening guitar chords of the next track the we really start to settle in. Rooks is a glorious piece of work and one that we have come to expect from this band of late. With a steady drum pace and glistening musical rhythm section Meiburg's sweet tones drift gently throughout but show signs of teeth at just the right point. For me this feels like the album opener and it heads up a run of songs that form the spinal chord of this album and it's from these five songs that the structure and strength radiate.

Leviathan, Bound is a slow building song based around a gentle rhythm that ends in magnificent strings and ever increasing percussion subtleties while Home Life employs a similar structure originating from crackling drum taps and working towards an orchestral middle section that takes flight amid the soaring vocals of their captain. The music simmers like brooding weather patterns and changes direction with a glorious unpredictability, rising and falling, swirling and trickling.

Lost Boys struts proudly to a marching rhythm and triumphant horns tapering off slowly to the boiling might of Century Eyes. This is the first time the guitars have been given a proper run and they beat their fists with an energy of a force that has been kept under wraps for too long. Unfortunately the momentum that has been gathering ever since Rooks is somewhat dampened by some of the later tracks. I Was A Cloud seems to revisit this bands past at a time when the record was bravely conquering new territory and South Col's conceptual insistence might play to the theme of this album but slows things right down here.

Thankfully the shear scale of The Snow Leopard gathers these stragglers up in its all-encompassing arms and carries them away. It's often the case that a voice's true nature is found in its extremities and though Meiburg's vocal range is certainly extensive it is often held back like a force too powerful to unleash. Well there are fantastic glimpses of it here and it is only matched by the titanic mariachi horns that rise from the depths to accompany it. It's a colossal song and should really end the record. It feels like the band are giving it their all in a last chance show of power and the gentle melody of The Hunter's Star, achingly beautiful though it is, whispers in its wake like something of an after thought. It hurts to criticize as this song, had it appeared anywhere else in the record, would pierce you to the core with it's melancholy. But if song-order is the only thing that tries to drag this down then so be it, for at the beating heart of this album are some of the richest musical moments this band have created.

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4th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

My Morning Jacket

It Still Moves / Acoustic Citsouca / Z / Okonokos

ATO records

Following their seperation from major label backer Sony BMG, Dave Matthews' ATO records have taken the opportunity to re-release their exisiting My Morning Jacket catalogue, which not entirely by coincidence ties-in with the release of the latest MMJ record Evil Urges, due next week.

It Still Moves - 2003 - 4 Stars
It Still Moves was considered the major label debut for the band after the success of The Tennesse Fire and At Dawn. As an album it's not particulalry cohesive, but it plays out nicely as a collection of great songs - and is a logical major label sequel to the home-grown efforts of the earlier records. The record provides little evolution from those records, but it magnificently showcases everything that there is to like about the band, from the opener Magheeta, through the rolling guitars of Golden or Just One Thing to the pounding rock of Steam Engine.

While many of its charming songs have since been overshadowed by the tightly honed follow up Z, It Still Moves provides for a great listen and is home to many of MMJ's staple live songs like Run Thru and Golden - plus the epic One Big Holiday, which is nothing short of spectacular.

Acoustic Citsuoca Live! At The Startime Pavilion - 2004 - 3.5 Stars
The band bridged the gap between major releases with this 5 track 'acoustic' EP, which is actually less live than it implies - as the "Startime Pavillion" show mentioned never actually occured. The EP was recorded over three nights in Austin, but none the less provides a magical document of the bands shows - particularly Jim James' solo acoustic shows. James' haunting voice dominates the release on highlights like Golden and Bermuda Highway, but the gem here has got to be the unbeatable version of The Bear, from album The Tennessee Fire. The song has a magnificent slow-building power at the best of times, but here it showcases James' vocal talents, unquestionable power and passion as a performer, building to a spine-tingling frenzied finale.

Z - 2005 - 5 Stars
Things stepped up a gear with Z, where the band moving away from the self-produced template of their previous efforts, handing over production duties to John Leckie (The Stone Roses, The Verve, Radiohead). It's a move that paid off hugely, with Leckie tightening the band's sound to the point of breaking. The sprawl of previous releases is trimmed to perfection, while every song is well-honed and muscular, with highlights ranging from the note perfecd electronics of It Beats 4U through the long rocker Lay Low to the powerful finale of Dondante. Eclipsing much of the bands previous work, this album moved them up to another level, bringing in new sounds and ideas while retaining all of their inherant qualities. Brilliant. Read our original revew here.

Okonokos - 2006 - 3 Stars
Following the release of Z, My Morning Jacket embarked on an epic tour, which did eventually land in London - but not before this two night residency at the legendary Fillmore in San Franciso. This live record documents the tour and was released with an accompanying DVD. While live albums can often be a little disappointing, this one rounds up everything that is good about the band and serves almost as a live greatest hits - covering 8 of the 10 songs from Z as well as numerous beefed-up renditions from their extensive back catlogue. Without seeing this unmissable live band in the flesh, this is about as close to the experience as you are going to get. Read our original revew here.

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3rd Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Mudhoney

Superfuzz-Bigmuff (Deluxe Edition)

Sub Pop

Despite being named after a couple of guitar effects pedals and featuring a song that confesses/proudly proclaims that "I've been drunk for 24 hours", it's difficult not to undersell the importance of Mudhoney's debut album Superfuzz Bigmuff and it's place in the timeline of, well, of popular music really. Such grand statements probably sit uneasily with the band themselves and most definately would have when these four long-haired outcasts from Seattle recorded it nearly 20 years ago. After all, they pretty much sound drunk all over it - a mood helped no end by the distorted sludge sound of the eponymous effects pedals. But this distortion, sludge, long hair and beer, laid out over punked-up three minute songs, combined to give the world 'Grunge' - the predominant alternative music scene of the early 90s.

A couple of years before Teen Spirit was a target in the bitter sights of fellow Seattlite Kurt Cobain, Superfuzz Bigmuff (along with its label Sub Pop, formed two years earlier) announced that something was most definitely happening in America's Pacific North West.

"We wanna be free, we wanna be free to do what we anna do. We wanna be free to ride...to ride our machines without being hassled from the man. And we wanna get loaded". Peter Fonda's plea in 'The Wild Angels', sampled as an intro to In 'N' Out Of Grace sums up far better than I ever could, where Mudhoney were coming from. There's no doubt this is an angry album, but whereas Cobain was to implode with that anger, Mudhoney had a sense of humour (and presumably a steady supply of ale) to balance it out and help carry them from the frustration of their surroundings.

Touch Me I'm Sick, which should always be the first name on the teamsheet for a "Grunge Album Select 11", sets the pace: "Well i've been bad. And I've been worse. And I'm a creep yeeeahhh. And I'm a jerk. Touch Me I'm Sick!". And the rest of the album plays out over this cynical, but above all beer-swilling fun, terrain. Extras on this version, re-issued to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of the lengendary Sub Pop, include singles, demos, and a couple of live recordings from 1988, which as the promotion blurb states "are all remastered, or in some cases, mastered for the very first time."!

Mark, Steve, Matt and Dan: the John, Paul, George and Ringo of my early adolesence, I salute you. Now let's get loaded.

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30th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Silver Jews

Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea

Drag City

It's been over two and a half years since David Berman last flung open the doors to his much coveted mental closet of worldly wisdom and on that occasion he left us with tales of "a place past the blues I never want to see again," and threatening to take "a hammer to it all." A rare tour accompanied the release of Tanglewood Numbers but then the doors were fastened shut once more and the world was lonely again. With these terminal words left ringing in our ears what were we to expect from the followup to Tanglewood's dark vista?

Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea sees a few returning members for a tried and tested Silver Jews line up in the form of Tony Crow, Brian Kotzur and the twin-ax attack of Peyton Pinkerton (Natural Bridge) and William Tyler (Bright Flight) who all join Berman and wife Cassie who, as usual, provides warmth and texture to much of the background space. In tone and content it's a fascinating addition to the puzzle that Berman has been relentlessly and stubbornly crafting since this band's conception in 1989. It stands alone from any other Jews album in terms of its relationship with the world and provides us with a valuable insight into this artist's shift in consciousness. And a shift is exactly what Lookout Mountain marks but, as might be expected with Berman, it's not the shift one would expect. Berman's opinions, beliefs, outlooks and observations remain firmly the same and provide the linking trail back to the other records, but it's Berman's viewpoint on these things that has changed. The world according to the Silver Jews has always been described through its minutiae, in all its tragic detail, but there is a sense of resolution in these songs that breathes new life into their whispering lungs. Instead of bitterness or anger there is a newfound tenderness for our culture but instead of emerging as celebration this tenderness brings with it feelings of pity. Berman's resolution acknowledges this pity and where his previous albums would leave it there, Lookout Mountain strives for a sense of warning. Where previous albums posed questions, this sixth addition provides the answers.

"What was not but could have been, was my obsession way back when./ Now I just remember this, what is not but could be if." And so this seismic shift is seen in full glory in the first verse of the opening song. The statement of lack remains in place but the gaze is turned forward to the future and a new feeling of hope is introduced. With the economic delivery of a Japanese Haiku poem, Berman relays his wisdom with mono-syllabic accuracy in this opener and with it a multi-faceted, new vernacular is born. But this look to the future is no unconditional march into greener pastures. Berman's new hope is full of lament for the past. The future as seen in Suffering Jukebox has no place for the past that Berman once belonged to. It tells of this sad machine in a "happy town, over in the corner breaking down." Could this machine be Berman himself, trying to impart a wisdom to a world that is happy enough without it? Or it could it be a comment on music's place in our society too preoccupied with the "cult of number one"? After-all, the jukebox, though neglected, is "all filled up with what other people need." Is this money or music itself?

This is echoed on Strange Victory, Strange Defeat when Berman talks of all the "handsome grandsons in these rock band magasines," and asks "what have they done with the fat ones, the bald and the goateed?" This song revisits a songwriting method that is well tested. Berman has a unique ability to describe man's follies by way of the absurd and often using animals, be it a "kitten from Great Britain" or as seen here, "Squirrels imported from Conneticut, just in time for fall." This song tells of a squirrel uprising against what Berman calls "a nightmare world of craven mediocrity." With wife, Cassie in assistance the squirrels call out "We're coming out of the black patch! / We're coming out of the pocket! / We're calling into question / such virtues gone to seed!" This is a reference to an Emerson quote in which he describes Fashion as a "Virtue gone to seed." So Berman is mounting an uprising against this new culture of seeming victories that ultimately end in "strange defeats." It's a culture that promises to be a lot more fun but as Berman asks, "how much fun is a lot more fun? / Not much fun at all."

Lookout Mountain also sees Berman assume a new style of writing in the form of a greater reliance on narrative. The first person shifts to the third with his observations being played out by a myriad of protagonists in far fetched and highly entertaining stories. This is seen most notable in the centerpiece of the record San Francisco B.C. It tells the story of a failed relationship that leads to all sorts of drama including Mafioso QVC operators, jewelry heists and murder mystery. It's one of the first time Berman's expert turn-of-phrase has been put to such a use and you hang on his every word for gems like "he came at me with some fist cuisine." It's the best brawl description since "a can of whoop-ass." With slightly less success and complete with seagull noises, Party Barge employs the same grasp of narrative and together they seem to allow Berman an added freedom that he had only ever enjoyed by putting animals in human situations. The characters are never that far removed from Berman himself and almost represent different facets of his complex character.

The record ends in a way no other has done before and in this ending the great Silver Jews shift is complete. We Could Be Looking For The Same Thing is a love song first of all, but a love song that only Berman could have written. In lines like "We could belong to each other / If you're not seeing anyone," we see Berman's ability to juxtapose the ultimate with the intimate, destiny with monotony. But it also sets up a love story from the point of view of two people at a later and more resourceful stage in their lives where they haven't so much downgraded their hope, but have become more realistic in their search for destiny. With this in mind, Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea is Berman accepting the faults of this existence but seeming more comfortable with their existence. In tone and content this record acts as a removal from the bad in society while still acknowledging that it exists for other people. It almost represents a truth that someone can emerge the other side and still be intact. In this respect it's a triumphant record but in a very realistic way. At just over half an hour it is more compact or concise. It comes from a less fragile place than his previous writings and displays this artist's unique and all too rare respect and appreciation for language. If society is indeed seen and experienced through the critical eyes of our artists then Berman is an essential addition.

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28th May 2008 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Ting Tings

We Started Nothing

Columbia

This duo have really got me stumped. I would prefer not to review this record than make up my mind as to whether I hate it or not. One thing I do know is that lead single That's Not My Name is fucking awesome. I first heard of The Ting Tings on a Later...With Jools Holland show sometime last year. They played this lead single and at first every judgmental nerve in my body kicked into action and I was ready to make a cup of tea until the next proper band came on. But then something strange happened which has started this acute indecision. With Jules De Martino on drums and backing vocals and the ever energetic Katie White up front they seemed like a sugary White Stripes. After the initial tirade of random girls names all the music stopped and White proceeded to craft a live loop of her harmony vocals with various pedals. The drums then picked up once more building to higher and higher levels of noise while all the time White matched this buildup with frenzied shrieks into the microphone. This went on far longer than any pop song should and with this near punk change-up crashing over the live looped harmony the whole song was transformed into something amazing and truly mesmerizing.

Why can't I just leave it there?

Ok, some facts: Tipped in the top 3 of the BBC's Sound of 2008 poll The Ting Tings have actually been around for a while. They formed the band after being dropped from their original label and much of the music, especially That's Not My Name seems to be a valiant reaction to the constrains and turmoil they experienced the first time around. They hail from Salford and put out a few DIY releases last year including the frantic disco-pop number Fruit Machine before releasing album opener Great DJ in March this year.

I can't think of any more facts so I guess I'm going to have to give some sort of opinion. First of all, this really isn't aimed at me, I'm an old bastard who's loving the new Bonny 'Prince' Billy album. So with that said, I find the rest of this record instantly appealing with its unlimited supply of catchy hooks, upbeat rhythm and endlessly energetic vocals. It's realistic in that it isn't trying to be anything more than what it is, and that's 10 flawless pop songs that are meant to be danced to not pondered over. But on the flip side, good pop music often brings with it the 'Pringle' effect. Once you pop, you can't stop, meaning, this shit stays in your head for 'like' ever. In it's unfailing energy comes unfailing irritation, in it's unashamed pop blueprint comes shallow ditties that have instant appeal but zero lasting effect. That's Not My Name is by far the best song on the record but it too has been diluted from its original live incarnation down to an album friendly song that plays all too nicely with the other kids. I wasn't surprised to see Shut Up And Let Me Go - probably the most irritating song here - feature on the new iTunes advert, as We Started Nothing is a bulging Christmas hamper to lazy advertising executives worldwide. But good on them, I hope they make a pile of money out of those soulless rats and make some kids dance along the way.

Is that ok?

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26th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The National

A Skin, A Night / The Virginia EP

Beggars

A Skin, A Night - A Film By Vincent Moon

Personally I can take or leave films about bands and the trying times they experience while putting together a record, but Vincent Moon's portrayal of The National and the long and laborious creation of their biggest selling album Boxer is compelling viewing for the most part. It has the regular lingering shots of a troubled front man in the creative process while the rest of the band sit around in the recording studio waiting for his opinion but the stuff in between is beautiful. I have always seen The National's music as cinematic and Boxer solidified this with its darkly meandering melodies and cryptic verse, so for Moon to marry this up with long shots of a city asleep or lonely subway trains creeping through hauntingly desolate stations really brings to life the missing visual half to this bands music. Each shot is filtered through a heavy grainy film and is shrouded in stark contrasting black and white.

The dialogue is interesting as we discover this band's long recording history and the insecurities that come with it. 2005's Alligator was the first real break through for this band but it merely served to identify them with their fan base and it wasn't until last years stunning Boxer that things really started to change and they became aware of their growing presence in the music scene. The mood of the lighting is mirrored by much of the dialogue provided mainly by Berninger who comes across as the shy and introverted personality we see biting his fingernails on stage. He talks of his need to drink red wine before going on stage in order to shut out the fact that he's standing in front of a throbbing crowd. The success of Boxer doesn't seem to be making things any easier for this reserved leader. The demo versions of some of the songs are interesting especially when seen from the drummers point of view. Bryan Devendorf is one of the rising stars of Boxer as his rhythm dexterity provides much of the power and pace of the record.

The film as a whole doesn't provide us with much we didn't already imagine about The National but Moon's moody cinematic portrayal of the music is stunning and gives these songs the quiet weight they deserve.

3/5

The Virginia EP

Where the film may have lacked any new insights into The National's music, this 12 track EP makes up for it. It's basically a demo/live record which ordinarily wouldn't light me up as they tend to be lesser versions of your favorite tracks cynically pumped out to die-hard fans for a quick buck. But this EP is actually quite generous. Although some of the best tracks here were featured on the Extras tour EP the whole package serves as a worthy accompaniment to the Mothership of Boxer.

There aren't many bands these days that offer B-Sides worth bothering with but the first 3 songs here are equal to many of the lucky ones that made the Boxer final cut. All originating from Alligator's various releases, You've Done It Again Virginia is from Lit Up and Santa Clara and Blank Slate are both B-Sides to the Mistaken For Strangers single and it's Blank Slate that really shines. It's a reworking of an earlier B-Side Keep It Upstairs from the Abel single but this time it's been lifted out of it's original hollow surroundings and is given a glorious rock makeover and the result is one of the best National songs to date. Boxer has really elevated their sound with added strings and drumming of epic proportion so it's so special to hear some of these demo versions that show the band in their stripped down clarity. Forever After Days simply has Berninger's lonely vocals matched with a gentle guitar and lo-fi organ while Rest Of Years is a hollow slow burner that rises to a dirty finale of electric guitar and calamitous drums. But it's the Slow Show demo that gets the prize here as it did on the Extras EP. It's one of the finest songs on Boxer and here in it's bare bones it really shines. Berninger's vocals are mumbled to the point of near indecipherability and so are rendered down to just another instrument in this rich musical tapestry.

One of the best things about this EP is hearing a retrospective of this band's back catalogue all mixed up in various formats. This is seen most notably in how Slow Show is followed by the Daytrotter Session version of Lucky You, a gem off the 2003 album Sad Songs For Dirty Lovers. This is a heart wrenching, marvelously underplayed song that stands it's ground when put up against the latest work. This is then followed by a fantastic live rendition of Springsteen's Mansion On The Hill. The Boss' melancholic tone suits Berninger's style perfectly here and it's a triumph.

The album is brought to a close by two live versions of Fake Empire and About Today and unfortunately this is where the band slip up. These are two of the strongest songs on Boxer, but my criticism of their recorded versions still stands alongside the faults of their recent live show in London. With Berninger's delicate delivery and the ever richer musical waters he swims in The National's strength has alway seeped out of their restraint. On these recent live tracks the band take the songs off into all too grand territory with bloated guitar solo finale's that undermine the subtle depths previously plumbed and force the band into a genre they don't seem to belong in. It didn't work live and it doesn't work here. Still, it isn't enough to bring this generous EP down and it gives a glimpse of the talent that lies semi dormant in this group of musicians. Their albums are growing into something quite unique and their B-Sides show a cupboard full of unused masterpieces that few bands could afford to leave out.

4/5

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21st May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Bonnie 'Prince' Billy

Lie Down In The Light

Domino

We may be heading for a recession but our usual touchstones of gloom and melancholy seem hellbent on taking us in the opposite direction. David Berman's Silver Jews are due to release an unusually positive new record and here Will Oldham follows up 2006's The Letting Go with an album bathed in weary resolution and renewed warmth. Both these artists have produced some of their finest work while struggling through their darkness and likewise both seem to project their new work from a well fought point of resolved insight. But the ultimate success of these two records come from a genuine wisdom that was born out of experience and a deep searching for a truth behind this human experience. They haven't just decided to make an 'upbeat record' but have allowed this new dawn in their understanding to shine on every word they utter and though these words will always be tinged with sadness they display an outlook glistening with light.

Oldham gently counts in the record with the retrospective Easy Does It. The whole feel of this album is encapsulated in this first song as it lovingly rakes over past beliefs and viewpoints to compare them to a newly acquired calmness and strength. "There are other ways, I used to think, to find my way around, the wood and the caves and the bad woman's ways that were always to be found." The whole song shimmers with this new "One Way" that Oldham refers to as he looks around him and sees the light shine off everyday wonders like the moon, friends and family and "good, earthly music singing into my head."

This album explores every range of Olham's vocals from the joyous country lilt of Easy Does It to the intimate whisperings of What's Missing Is. Musically it's just as rich from the clipped fiddle on Glory Goes to For Every Field There's A Mole's wonderful clarinet. Oldham's delicate guitar playing dances eagerly throughout the record but is also joined by colourful touches of lap steel. Dawn McCarthy's sweet harmonies shadowed Oldham's every word in The Letting Go and the duet role falls to Ashley Webber here with some beautiful results. You Want That Picture sees them assume the part of two accusing lovers while on Other's Gain they rise in harmony to majestic grandeur. The sense of loneliness is passing from every record Oldham makes, not only due to the company he keeps on the songs but in his words that fall so precisely from his mouth. On Other's Gain he tells of the importance to "Keep your loved ones near, and let them know just where you be," while Easy Does It describes "the wood and the smell and the word of farewell that I always had to sound."

This new embrace of the world and the people around him is at the very heart of this records warmth. Instead of the forked-tongue critic lurking in the judgmental shadow of the world Lie Down In The Light displays a new found knowledge of the artists place in this life and on songs like So Everyone he aims to declare it to all in earshot. But while this might be a celebration, Katrina And The Waves it most certainly is not. Lie Down In The Light might be the antithesis both in title and tone to one of Oldham's finest albums, 1999's I See A Darkness, but it's joyousness is delivered with patience and humility like one who has seen the light but is in no hurry to explore, opting rather, to dwell there knowingly in its warmth. Like Berman, Oldham's ability to describe joy as well as pain is giving new strength to his work and is transforming him into a more well rounded song writer and as this joy has come from pain its profundity is more striking and long lasting.

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19th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

O Fracas

Fits & Starts

I Can Count Records

The words 'angular' and 'spiky' are too often touted around when describing British indie music these days and they'll be dragged out yet again when referring to this Leeds four piece and their debut album Fits & Starts. Their name refers to the creative environment under which these songs were written and recorded. "Fracas is a reference to writing songs under blazing arguments, the act of creation through force, like a Super Collider," states the band - and having gone through three different bass players during the three years this album took to make this statement doesn't seem to be a word of a lie. The album is the sum parts of three sessions recorded with each of these different line-ups which does explain the varied sounds experienced during its thirty five minutes.

Along with angular guitars, quintessentially English vocals are also an element often found on todays indie scene and this band have it all. But despite that, O Fracas dish out an exciting blend of furious arrangements, intelligent lyrics and sometimes some nice lounge piano ditties. Influences ranging from afro-beat, jazz, folk and DC Hardcore drift in and out with a wide variety of instruments providing for an eclectic listen. They seem to have two gears though, fast and slow, and rarely explore anything in between or at least these two gears in the same song. Songs like Sixteen Beats or You Can Hear The World From Menwith Hill, with their grass-roots folky humility, work far better than the more generic, guitar driven moments like What Jim Hears or Zeros And Ones. These give the album its pace and ferocity but also drag it into musical obscurity by pumping out a sound that is all too common.

O Fracas exhibit some artful ideas on this debut and the album definately gets more interesting as it progresses and as they inject their own turbulent personality into the music rather than following the well trodden indie path. Unfortunately this path shows no sign of ending or taking a turn as band after band in this country pass around the same sound and style between them, all under the guise of originality.

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15th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Adem

Takes

Domino

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

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

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

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14th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Roots

Rising Down

Def Jam

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

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

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

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

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

Cans Festival

Leake Street, London

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

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

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

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

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9th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Tapes 'n' Tapes

Walk It Off

XL Recordings

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

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

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

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

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

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7th May 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Flight Of The Conchords

Flight Of The Conchords

Sub Pop

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

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

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

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

Animal Collective

Water Curses

Domino

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

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

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

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

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25th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Birds of Avalon

Bazaar Bazaar

Volcom

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

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

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

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24th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Bon Iver

For Emma, Forever Ago

4AD

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

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

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

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

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

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21st Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

White Williams

Smoke

Double Six

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

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

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

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21st Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Tokyo Police Club

Elephant Shell

Saddle Creek

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

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

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

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

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

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

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17th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet