Chimpomatic

Pela

Anytown Graffiti

Great Society

You can look down the mouthwatering list of releases set for a year ahead and form a pretty good idea of what's in store. This year we have certainly had our fair share of expected treats but when an album like Pela's debut Anytown Graffiti pops up off the radar the treat is even more sweet to the taste. Pela are 4 guys from Brooklyn and together they make deep, heartfelt music that rises on mesmeric rhythms and soars with front man Billy McCarthy's frenzied, earnest vocals.

I must confess, I first fell in love with The National during their 2005 release Alligator, then tracked through their back catalogue fueling my addiction and desperately making up for lost time. Although I missed their 2005 EP All The Time I feel to be joining Pela from the ground floor and it feels good. The National comparison is also apt as Pela's blend of emotional song writing and rich compositions evokes Matt Berninger's light touch and sensitivity. Musically they are both drummers bands and the constant, driving rhythm here forms the structure with all manner of instruments hitching a ride.

As the military drum roll of Waiting On The Stairs counts us in McCarthy's pent up howl sounds raw and unkempt against the tight and minimal music. The album highlight comes early in the form of Lost Of The Lonesome. It's a sparse, hollow song that slowly opens up to a chiming, pastoral rock anthem. The lyrics tell of loneliness and love flailing in hopeless desperation and McCarthy's delivery reflects this perfectly. Their first ep was a more gentle affair than this and Anytown Graffiti shows a remarkable maturity already since 2005 with their sound rising to a more confident scale while also maintaining the soft gentleness of their earlier work. The Trouble With River Cities and the beautiful Your Desert's Not A Desert At All both reflect this sensitivity and display a compellingly understated melancholia.

Like The National, Pela's songs are full of ambiguities and wonderfully emotive lyrics that evoke strange and surreal imagery. An uneasy feeling of struggle to comprehend this modern life is very much present here but nothing is spelled out. In this thematic haze lurks paranoia, confusion and sadness but also a deep romanticism that holds this album high on its shoulders. It's a huge album but will never tell you so. It will just keep dropping hints with every listen. So here we are on the ground floor, who knows how high this thing goes but the views already pretty good from here so I'm in it for the long haul. Going up?

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#BC

29th Oct 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Ween

La Cucaracha

Schnitzel

Long standing cult favourites Ween have taken an unusually long four years between albums, and following 2003's Quebec - which featured some of their best music so far - La Cucaracha had become highly anticipated. As a taster, Ween delivered the five track Friends EP, which marked a low-tide mark for the adventurous band. Seemingly having run out of styles to be inspired by, they dredged the world of eurodisco for inspiration - with little success. Thankfully La Cucaracha gets the band firmly back in the land of the living.

The title tells all, and the light hearted opener Fiesta sets the scene for a party record before Blue Balloon gets things moving along in jovial style. It's a great song, but it's left-field vocal delivery has the effect of making you feel like the band will be laughing at you later. The hideous Friends has been totally re-recorded since the EP making it far more palatable - and with tracks like Object and Spirit Walker we get Ween at their mildly more serious best.

Woman and Man is the most successful track, doing classic rock like only Ween can. And Santana or course - to whom the track owes it's heaviest debt. Again, lyrically their tongue is deep in cheek - with the Adam and Eve lyrics taking themselves far less seriously that other retro rockers like Wolfmother. Lyrics are soon a thing of the past however, as the song stretches out into a fantastic ten minute twin guitar epic.

Your Party wraps things up with some atmospherics and sound effects making a brief suggestion that there was some sort of concept going on here. It may be one of the bands more cohesive records, with a far less wandering style between tracks - but while I would love an album compiled exclusively of their classic rock variety it seems that maybe the up and down roller coaster is what's needed in order to take the band up to the higher peaks that the best moments of albums Chocolate & Cheese or White Pepper reached.

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#CSF

22nd Oct 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Radiohead

In Rainbows

Radiohead's 7th album will forever be referred to as much for its content as the method by which it greeted our hungry ears. On 10th October we were literally 'given' the first morsels from this truly unique band since 2003's Hail To The Thief, but that wasn't the only great thing about that day. As a youngster I can remember the magical feeling that came with the arrival of a long awaited album. You would count down the days until it was released trapped in a glorious, internet-free vacuum of anticipation and speculation. Then when the day finally came the first thing on your mind was getting to that shop and claiming your copy, nothing else mattered in those days.

Fast forward to the present day and things have changed considerably. You rarely need to wait for anything now - leaks or promos arrive in your iTunes like it ain't no thang, and anyway even if you are waiting for something to be released by the time you get it your head is already littered with countless 'expert' opinions that it's hard to form your own. Well, last Wednesday we were all equal. Currently label-less, Radiohead took control of their property and gave it to everyone at the same time - no leaks, no promo copies and therefore no opinions. We were all free to make up our minds, not only on how valuable it was to us but what we thought of it. I felt a twinge of that magic return last week as I downloaded my copy and it's stayed with me throughout every play of In Rainbows.  I remember where I was on the release of pretty much every Radiohead album and Wednesday 10th of October was a special day indeed.

So, in the democratic spirit with which this record was released it seems fitting to apply such ideals to its scrutiny. So here are some Chimps early takes on the whole In Rainbows thing, and it ain't law it's just, like, their opinion man... - BC

People who have protested for years to me about Radiohead, have been approaching me recently saying; ‘Have you heard the new Radiohead album?  It’s Great!’

It is great indeed, a popularity that has not been the result of any concessions made by the band. ‘In Rainbows’ is beautiful, challenging and yes, repeat it, uplifting. It is the end of a sometimes lonely journey that has led them through the hinterland of ‘Kid A’, ‘Amnesiac’ and the not-to-be-ignored solo project by Thom Yorke last year; ‘The Eraser’. 

‘In Rainbows’ would not the subtle and lushly layered album it is without those earlier explorations, masterfully combining the art of melody (which the band claimed to forsake after ‘OK Computer) and laptop experimentation.  The ten songs are underpinned by Phil Selway’s tight framework of drumming and percussion, a structure which allows us to really appreciate the wonder of Yorke’s flying voice.

I heard that Muse were ‘the new Radiohead’.  That crown is still taken.  Indefinitely.  Enjoy the moment.

I paid 8 quid by the way.  A sum arrived at after several phonecalls, a lot of deleting,
re-entering and inner moral debate.

- LG - 5 Stars

Stand out tracks are Nude and All I Need. Yorke's vocals act as such a powerful instrument. Radiohead's best moments as a band come when they achieve the perfect balance between explosion and quiet - and this album isn't quite up on the explosive stuff. With these songs having being written and recorded over time, it feels the album lacks the cohesion of their finest releases.

The band should be commended for their release strategy, as the music industry certainly needs re-modelling. Having said that, it's any easy risk to take when you're seven albums deep on the back of millions in sales. Quite how it might work for new musicians I'm not so sure.

£3 and 3.5 stars - CJ

More than any other recording artist, one feels one should react to a new Radiohead album in the same manner one might to the unveiling of a controversial piece of contemporary art. One must try to connect with what one hears on a much deeper, esoteric level.
 
It is unquestionably, and unequivocally, a piece of Art. Beautifully challenging, not just to the individual listening, but on a far higher plane it is pointing the gun; the finger; the stick not only at the music industry, but society as a whole. In accessing the album the conch is passed to the world and is asked: What is music worth? What is art worth?
 
One parted with £4, as one is tight and would have bought it in the sales. (Though one wishes one had paid one pound as that would have made for a better punch line). - Locochimpo

The release of this album was an absolute bolt from the blue. Everyone knew album seven was past due, but no-one could have predicted a release this radical. As CJ mentions, it's a no-brainer when you're 70 millions albums deep in sales - and realistically it is not a suitable model for 99% of the bands out there. Why not just forget your worries about piracy and still release a CD? The labels don't have any problems knocking very recent releases by the likes of Kasabian or Kings of Leon down to £3 in HMV, so they're obviously covering their costs.

I've never had a problem either downloading music for free or paying for it if it's good. In fact I'm a conscientious thief, often stockpiling copies of albums I've downloaded, or shelling out £30 for a shoddy live box - as compensation for someone giving me a copy of a studio release.

The bottom line these days however is that CDs are fast becoming a thing of the past. I have shelves and shelves (or boxes under the bed these days) of CDs that have literally never been played on a CD player. They arrive, get ripped to digital and then filed away. Sleeve notes might get skimmed over on the way home. Radiohead have a always put great stock in their artwork, and I have a couple of the limited editions album's with Stanley Donwood's artwork. They're under the bed too.

I'd love to get the £40 discbox, but realistically it's not what I really want - as I'm not going to hang it on the wall like some sort of pseudo art collector. I want the music, and I'd most likely shell out the extra just to get the extra tracks. I plumped down £3 for the download and will pony up for the CD when it lands (hopefully) next year some time, just for the extra music. Promise.

And what of the music? I loved Hail To The Thief and saw it as a climax to their progressive work on Kid A and Amnesiac. I'm glad Thom Yorke's diverted his tinkering to his far-from-satisfactory solo record and put a bit of welly back into this, but it does feel some what incohesive in places, sagging a bit in the middle. Minor nit-picking though. It's a new Radiohead album and it's better than 90% of what's been around recently.  - CSF - 4.5 Stars

The start and finish of a Radiohead album have been a along fascination of mine. Having made some of the best music of this and the last century Radiohead have always had an annoying habit of chucking in the odd duff song towards the mid way point of an album then another at the end. OK Computer, Amnesiac and Hail To The Thief are definitely top heavy but I can't put the same claim on In Rainbows. This is one of the most consistent albums they've made.

Like Kid Amnesiac's wailing trumpets the new sound for this year is the blues guitar and its presence on 15 Steps is a great contrast to the stuttering electronics. Bodysnatchers was a stand-out powerhouse at last years live shows with the dirtiest riffs we've heard for years and Reckoner and House Of Cards have an excellent direction-less quality, maintaining the same beat and tempo throughout both songs in their own way suggest that they could go on for ever. Which leads me on to the main complaint, length. The album itself seems very short and many of the songs end way too abruptly.

But finally they get the ending right. Kid A could end so well if it wasn't for Motion Picture Soundtrack but a lot of the others start to tail off from about track 6. Jigsaw Falling Into Place is a future classic and one of the finest songs on this record but the spooked out lethargy of Videotape gives a powerful sense of finality to the album. All in all this one of the most complete pieces of work from Radiohead in years. You can hear every album they've made in this one including Pablo Honey and it still works. - BC - 4.5 Stars

The first listen of In Rainbows for me was an instant connection - it just sounded better than anything else I've heard for ages. There's an aura of confidence, of a band sitting back and enjoying playing together, the sound of people with something to say and the skills to say it.

Don't know if I've remembered this correctly, but I'm sure there was an episode of Later... once where Billy Corgan was on with Zwan (his post-Pumpkins project) and you could tell he really thought he'd changed the face of music etc again - and then you could see that vision crumbling while he watched Radiohead - who really had. (Almost as good as the time Dylan played Donovan one of his new songs.) The other thing I always remember about them was seeing them play Victoria Park in 2000, and just being amazed at how they'd managed to get so many people to listen to really out-there, avant-garde rock - and absolutely love it.

They just seem ahead of the game somehow - yes they've got record collections filled with Aphew Twin and Autechre - but it's translating that into rock and singalongable songs that makes them work so well. Love the ballads on this one - House Of Cards is as close as I think I've ever heard them get to a love song. Stormers like 15 Step and Bodysnatchers are huge. There's a real sense of them having taken the experiments of the past and learned how to incorporate them without trying so hard this time round, leaving it all feeling like complete, fully formed collection. You somehow want to inhabit this album - or maybe just hear it loud and live. Personally, I like the fact it's concise - it's one of the few albums this year where I've wanted to listen to it altogether, in order - and then go back to the beginning again.

To pull all this off, and then top it with the added "hey we know it's 2007" move of all the download/boxset options makes them feel connected to the world we've all found ourselves in. Totally agree with BC above - it does feel special to let everyone get it at the same time. As someone who grew up waiting months, sometimes a year for albums to be shipped out to the colonies from England, it's weird to click and instantly get stuff these days - does feel like this has somehow put some of the excitement and fun back into music. Would love to know how the experiment's done - real drag it's not chart eligible, but maybe that's all pointless and irrelevant now too... C71 - 4.5 Stars

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19th Oct 2007 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Well Deep - Ten Years Of Big Dada Recordings

Various Artists

Big Dada

To celebrate the 10th anniversary of this truly unique label they choose to shower us in gifts, I wish every birthday was like this - except mine of course. As a mark of this grand occasion those kind people at Big Dada have released an awesome double CD, a DVD and a special anniversary party.

I don't think there exists a label that is so trustworthy that you could buy any record it released in the safe knowledge that you'll love it, but for years I've been buying Big Dada releases knowing that I may not like it but it won't be anything to do with quality. The label has proved itself time and time again for an undying commitment to challenging and innovative music and the hip hop genre has been draped loosely around its neck but has never weighed down its steady upward progression. Label boss Will Ashton wanted to form a label that ran alongside yet independent of the mothership Ninja Tune label and would provide a home to hip hop misfits and pioneers.

Never describing themselves as a UK hip hop label, Will Ashton prefers to see it as simply "a hip hop label based in London" and with artists from the US and France on their books Big Dada must be one of the most international hip hop labels around today, and in this fact lies Ashton's most significant achievement. He has certainly championed some of the most successful UK artists like Roots Manuva, Willy, TY etc. but he has stripped them of their laborious 'UK' title and brought everything down to Hip Hop.

The CD is less of a 'best of' and more of an overview of the labels history and philosophy and it's only when this back catalogue is put together in this context that you start to get a clear picture of just how special Big Dada is. It is truly innovative but certain artists carry this flag more than others and any label boasting releases from cLOUDDEAD, New Flesh, Mike Ladd and TTC can't help to be slightly left of centre. Even from the title it's clear that Roots Manuva is the jewel in the crown of Big Dada and rightly so. I have always considered his debut Brand New Secondhand to be his finest work, but when you put them all together and drop in the flagship song Witness (1 Hope) he really is quite impressive. Mike Ladd's many incarnations keep things interesting and if things were getting a little too hip hop there's plenty of curve balls from TTC, Busdriver and newest signing Spank Rock to mix things up. What other label would put together the smooth storytelling of TY with the low down Grime of Willy? Though not particularly well represented here cLOUDDEAD really stand out from anyone and before their demise they single handedly took this label to places no other artist could go. Wherever they resided this band acted as a simmering cluster bomb blowing apart any preconceptions of genre that a label may have possessed and it took real vision to include them in the early days of this label.

Which leads me on to the DVD. Apart from the Big Dada documentary, this DVD is really about the videos. It has something like 35 videos here which must be everything that's been made. There's an impressive megamix option or you can play each video through one by one or you can set it to random so if your tv's got good enough sound this would make an awesome video juke box. Just stick it on and go about your business but you'd get snarled up on the lengthy cLOUDDEAD tour footage which is so compelling it demands your full attention. Videos from New Flesh and the crazy world of TTC are a treat, but as usual Roots Manuva steels the show with his return to his former primary school for sports day in the Witness video.

All in all this is a wonderful package indeed, and I'm not talking about Roots Manuva in his leotard. It's a great celebration of ten years of forward thinking - and for any fledgling hip hop mavericks with wild ambitions, while Big Dada is around the world must seem like a much more welcoming place.

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12th Oct 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Monks Kitchen

The Wind May Howl

1965 Records

While The Wind May Howl might be an appropriate title for some of the lyrics featured in this debut EP from The Monks Kitchen, it couldn't be more inappropriate for describing the mood of the record. Laid back guitars and pianos send you automatically into a reclining position as the sun comes up and a pint of cold beer magically appears in your hand.

There's a distant echo of both Liverpool (from The Beatles to The Coral) and the 1960's - while the former is based on no evidence (the band are based in London) the latter is hardly surprising considering that they have found a home on James Endeacott's 1965 Records.

The crisp sounding lounge pace rolls through the opening tracks, through lost love song Annabel and doesn't stop until Snake Charmer - where things begin to take a turn towards the darker side of the 60's peddled by the likes of The Doors or Jefferson Airplane. I'd definitely smoke a bowl with Charlie Sheen in a sand bagged bunker while listening to this little number - which uses an orchestra of guitars and plenty of swirling cymbals to conjure up an aptly titled mystical high point.

Cold Dawn goes on to combine the best of both styles into a slow-burning track that builds up the atmosphere, with it's minimal moody lyrics making for the album highlight, before the again mis-leading Bringing Hurricanes brings the EP to a close.

Rich and textured, this is a sophisticated record from a band with a lot of potential.

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#CSF

10th Oct 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Beirut

The Flying Club Cup

4AD

Beirut’s Gulag Orkestar was a critical success that slowly gained popularity by word of mouth. Zach Condon’s first album was, as is often noted, recorded at his parents house when he was all of nineteen. Beirut is no longer a one man band - he has since collected a group of musicians to tour and record, first the Lon Gisland EP and now the new album - The Flying Club Cup.

The first album featured no guitars. Violins, trumpets, piano and ukulele were used to produce a traditional Balkan sound. It was Zach’s melancholic, sombre singing which gave Beirut an added sophistication, making the East European sound more digestible to the average listener.

The Flying Club Cup is very much more of the same, which for me is the problem.  Opening song A Call To Arms is very reminiscent of Black's Wonderful Life. The comparison is not an insult or a compliment but does represent the reflective mood of the song and the album as a whole. It is the continuation of this tone throughout that frustrates me. Zach Condon's voice does not have enough expression to allow distinction or variation to make many of the thirteen tracks memorable. The Penalty is the exception, with a lovely accordion backing a restrained and expressive performance. This allows the music to sound complete and not a sullen teenage boy singing with his dad’s band. The Flying Club Cup never picks up from this point and continues to slowly deflate by the end.

The only time I can fully appreciate Beirut is when I listen to one or maybe two songs consecutively. I also struggled to hear the French influence (culture, history, fashion) which The Flying Club Cup is supposedly inspired by. This could be one album too many from Beirut if they have to state progression rather than been able to expand on their sound. If I were reviewing a single (with a b side) there would be more praise, but maybe in time (and as I grow old) my opinion will change.

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#R.Hammerstein

8th Oct 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Akron/Family

Love Is Simple

Young God Records

The first time I heard the Akron/Family was on the split album with the Angels of Light.  Apart from them opening that album (which is unusual given that the label they are on is run by Angels of Light's own Michael Gira), what struck me is how they dominated the album with a bruising combination of styles.

Love is Simple is their second full length album hot on the heels of the Meek Warrior EP.  The title speaks volumes about the sentiment of the album and the first track sets the tone.  Love, Love, Love (Everyone) starts at a gentle pace, with the words repeated so many times you start to feel you are been given a lesson.  What follows allowed me to relaxed, relieved that there is no reference to Love.  Ed Is A Portal runs on from the first track, beginning with an enthusiastic chant which continues in the background as the guitars play a simple but infectious riff eventually joined by the drums but breaks down three quarters through to allow you to get your breath back. The first two songs highlight their musical approach, contrasting sounds banging against each other but never really clash.

The album does continue at an uneven pace no song is the same, yet like their live show there is a fluidity to their performances.  I’ve got some friends another highlight has a lovely melody that intensifies to then suddenly stop.  Disappointed that the following song Lake Song/New Ceremonial Music For Moms sounds nothing like what has just gone before, it doesn’t take long to become immersed with a tribal beat carrying you along . 

What can be hard to swallow are the blatant new age lyrics, which have been present throughout their other releases.  With time this can be forgiven as it seems sincere yet could also be taken as tongue in cheek.  Again it this conflicting element that makes me go back for more, the ability they have to combine a nostalgic approach (obvious 1970’s American rock references) to their music without ever sounding dated. Love Is Simple can take time to appreciate but it is well worth the effort.

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#R.Hammerstein

5th Oct 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Iron & Wine

The Shepherd's Dog

Sub Pop

The wind of change rarely blows through the lonely, mid-west town of Iron & Wine and when it does it's a soft, gentle breeze that leaves as quickly and as quietly as it approached. This has never been a bad thing as there has always been more than enough warmth to feed off in this barren land. But with The Shepherd's Dog the wind is picking up, ever so slightly, and as it passes through it leaves behind a renewed freshness. Following on from 2004's Our Endless Numbered Days and the fantastic Woman King EP in 2005, The Shepherd's Dog is the third full length and it's their best yet.

Sam Beams first two albums have been musically pretty stark often featuring his whispered vocals over delicate finger picking resulting in miles upon miles of intriguing yet desolate land, but after the hugely successful collaborative mini album with Calexico, In The Reins, and the subsequent tour, Beam's sound has progressed into Technicolor with a full band arrangement providing welcome sustenance to his flawless songwriting.

The sparse landscape from which this band has coaxed some of the most heart-aching sounds of recent times is looking more lush than ever here and is certainly starting to bear fruit. Beams vocals are as breathy and soft as ever but the instrumentation that accompanies his tales is dripping with texture and the sheer variety of tools, from lap steel to washes of strings, provides a richness not seen before. Beams vocals maintain their fragile characteristics but seem to contract to intimate closeness then expand to great washes of tone allowing the progressive musical arrangements to take the foreground.

The album is meticulously structured with each song flowing seamlessly into the other. Carousel is the musical equivalent of a babbling brook gently flowing through rocky land as Beams vocals, drenched in effects, trickle softly over delicately plucked guitar. Then as if a damn had broken its banks way up stream the river starts to pour forth with growing pace as we move into one of the albums many highlights House By The Sea. Deep bass and intricate guitar provide the complex backdrop for Beam and sister to harmonize. Innocent Blues shuffles along at a blissfully lazy pace with some unexpected banjo brilliance looming to the forefront which bleeds in to the reggae infused Wolves (Song Of The Shepherd's Dog). This acts as the centre piece to the album. At nearly 5 minutes in length it too shuffles into view with effortless simplicity and mid way through takes a short breather before launching into a glorious instrumental home straight. It's richness in sound is almost too much to fathom and marks a definite turning point for this band.

And the same can be said for the record as a whole. It maintains a firm link to the albums of the past with their soft and often bleak outlook but punctuates this with innovative musical arrangements that have their view firmly set on the road ahead. Resurrection Fern has Beams voice sounding so smoother than ever and the fragile steel guitar that soars behind it is simply glorious. The albums structure delivers its final genius blow on the closing track. Flightless Bird, American Mouth has a devastating air of conclusion and is a perfect way to end this record. It begins as fragile as a newly hatched bird then slowly takes flight and off it soars on a soft breeze of sadness and finality. It takes a few plays for this album to seep in but when it does you wont want to stray too far from its warmth.

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#BC

30th Sep 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Band of Horses

Cease To Begin

Sub Pop

2005's Everything All Of The Time was a surprise hit for me, coming from the back of the pack like a young Steve Cram to stream ahead and take gold. The gift that kept on giving, it seemed to just get better and better with the most obvious high point The Funeral quickly matched by several other classic tracks.

After the success of that album things seemingly fell apart from the band, with co-founder Mat Brooke departing to form a new band Grand Archives - leaving Ben Bridwell to continue under the Band of Horses name with a completely overhauled squad for album number two.

May's UK visit soon put to bed any doubts about the band's future, with Bridwell's beefed-up foot-stomping style taking centre stage for one of my gig's of the year. New songs like Lamb Of The Lam and Ode To LRC sounded great - for once, rather than lulling the crowd between the well-known 'hits' it actually really got the gig going. Cease To Begin quickly became a most-anticipated-of-007 release.

That early accolade became a mixed blessing, as while the foot-stomping style provides many of the album's high points - the departure of second songwriter Brooke may also be responsible for some of the albums shortcomings. While it is an album packed full of great songs and no duds, there somehow seems to be less variation between songs and the highs are possibly not quite as memorable.

Bottom line: Is There A Ghost?, Ode To The LRC, Marry Song, Cigarettes, Wedding Bands, Window Blues - all awesome. A great second album from a band that are only going to get better. And they rock live.

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#CSF

26th Sep 2007 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Dylan Donkin

Food For Thoughtlessness EP

Wall of Sound

Dylan Donkin used to be in a band called Echobrain with ex-Metallica bassist Jason Newstead.  But don’t let that fool you into second-guessing what he sounds like.  In fact, listening to new EP Food For Thoughtlessness it’s possible that Mr Donkin himself isn’t exactly sure what his sound is.  But first a bit of post-Echobrain history:

After the band were caught up in a lawsuit with rival band called Echodrain (who’d have thought a band called Echodrain would have lawyers?), Donkin decided to do one and headed to Hawaii, where most admirably he developed a music teaching programme to help parents and children interact musically.  And it’s that sort of optimism, coupled with an inevitable laidback Island vibe, that runs through the 6 songs.

It’s a few stadium sizes away from metal monsters Metallica, but this isn‘t just one surf dude and his guitar a la Jack Johnson. Like Alec Guinness playing 8 members of the same family in Ealing classic Kind Hearts and Coronets or Eddie Murphy playing fat clan The Klumps in Hollywood film: Nutty Proffesor 2, the 6 songs that make up this EP may share the same mellow genetics, but are varied enough to showcase the considerable talents of Mr Donkin.

In mood, it’s a record of two halves (or 'sides').  Single Make a Choice is effortlessly upbeat in a hazy lazy kind of way. You can almost hear the Hawaiian tide breaking on the shore, as a slide guitar works its way over simple bass lines and gentle brushwork on the drums on Diatom Blues and what’s not to like about putting handclaps in a song called Depression Yesterdays.  For the second half Donkin, ever sensitive, gets a bit darker.  Fall Through The Wall and its slightly reverbed vocal recall Jim James or Neil Young.  Instumental The Commonaut is probably the most interesting, a talented yet troubled piano, drunk and misunderstood, wails at the world as a quiet lead quitar agrees and a small choir commentates.  And finally, Yolk bids farewell like a slightly more positive unplugged Kurt Cobain.

It will be interesting to see how Donkin pulls this altogether on a full-length album; will it sound like an album rather than simply a collection of (very good) songs?  Until we find out, the Food For Thoughtlessness EP is an intriguing and excellent appetizer, whetting the appetite for the main course to come.

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#chimpovich

25th Sep 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Mike Wexler

Sun Wheel

Amish

This is the debut album by Brooklyn acid-folkster Mike Wexler and it's a beauty. Once you get past Wexler's impish nasal delivery this is a tremendously rewarding achievement. Fitting somewhere in between the quirkiness of Devendra Banhart and the softness of Nick Drake, Sun Wheel is an eerie labyrinth of tinkering folk and piano driven melodies so delicate they could float.

Many of the tracks are over 5 minutes and take their time without ever dragging their feet. This is a timeless album in many ways. It is swamped in folk nostalgia that it would be quite hard to pin point just when it was created. It also seems to defy time in that each song drifts effortlessly from one tempo to the next and hints at an epic quality of old. This is seen most successfully in Cipher, the albums centre piece. Though one of the shorter songs it changes course with such triumphant confidence that you'd think you were listening to an epic musical journey the likes of which only Canterbury prog could touch upon. Wexler's voice resounds over a rich tapestry of musical instruments and it's depths seem to mirror the piano bass line that holds it all together.

The title track is Wexler at his most beautiful. It seems to meander where ever it feels like until settling down to a fantastic instrumental finale of delicate acoustic guitar and deep piano. Southern Cross has more of a marching rhythm and at almost nine minutes it really lifts the album towards the end with rising, epic majesty.

Sun Wheel introduces us to a talent to behold and the best thing is that it does this with great humility. This is a quietly triumphant record that respectfully nods to its predecessors and yet remains fiercely original. It is intriguing, beguiling, restrained and fantastically giving.

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#BC

20th Sep 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

M. Ward

Duet For Guitars No.2

M Ward's debut album gets its second re-release since its initial conception in 1999 and it's a fine time to see this talent at its raw, stripped down beginning. This serves as a kind of sketchbook compared to the masterstrokes that are his recent offerings. The music is underproduced but the result is Wards natural born penchant for melody. His voice is still relatively unpredictable at this point and can be heard wavering a few times but as a whole its a pretty impressive place for a career to start. It shows the distance this song writer has come but it has an amazing maturity for a debut album.

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#BC

17th Sep 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Angels Of Light

We Are Him

Young God Records

Welcome all, please be seated, the service of the church of the Angels Of Light is about to begin. We hope your sitting uncomfortably, this will take a while, there will be no breaks but once we have finished you will all be cleansed of the filthy sins that riddle your sorry souls.

A fair introduction I feel to this, the sixth album by Michael Gira's Angels Of Light. But as Gira's previous work with Swans was unrelenting in it's post-punk avant-guard ferocity We Are Him holds you tight with an unnervingly quiet intensity and bores deep into your being with slow, controlled focus. Musically it's the lightest and most accessible of all his work adopting an Americana flavor but instead of jaunty, thigh slapping hoe-downs it's more like stumbling across a time-forgotten town way down the Mississippi where everyone seems hell-bent on saving your soul. Claims like "I am the god of this fucking land," has Gira sounding like a twisted preacher who listens to too much Nick Cave. He employs a pattern of repetition in his writing that aims to mesmerize and hypnotize and it's very effective from the word go. Black River Song's heavy, pounding rhythm and booming vocals take you by the hand and lead you down to the water for the baptism to begin. Promise Of Water uses a subtler musical approach but the intent is the same. behind Gira's deep vocals is a throng of chanting backing voices like the towns folk carrying you aloft to your salvation. But after this dark introduction you can almost feel your soul getting lighter as The Man We Left Behind has a majestic swell to it as if stepping out of your riddled body and walking forward into the light. Gira's vocals are lighter and for a minute you feel that the job's done and just as you're about to exclaim, "well that wasn't so bad,'" My Brothers Man sits you down firmly and tells you that that was just stage one, and the wailing commences

Gira's vocals are complimented beautifully by the use of the female voice. Seen most effectively in Not Here/ Not Now they come at you like beckoning sirens, seductive and enticing. They provide a much needed richness to this sound. But one of the most thrilling aspects about this album and most of Gira's work is its unpredictability. After all this mournful seduction the title track resounds like a twisted, hand waving celebration as it frolics like a possessed gospel choir, and they march on in this manner throughout Sometimes I Dream I'm Hurting You but just as you start to enjoy yourself this song turns a scary corner, a corner that really should have been predicted by the song's title. Gira's repeated vocals take on a frenzied urgency and it's clear that your exorcism is in its final stages as he becomes possessed by the demons that pour forth from your lifeless body.

But hey, don't let that put you off, it's a journey we all have to make and no matter what the outcome it's a thrilling ride. It's a work of dark, hypnotic beauty that keeps you blindfolded all they way. It's heavy yet seductively charming and a real high point in this artists expanding career.

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14th Sep 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Takeovers

Bad Football

Off Records

The second album from The Takeovers might suggest that they were the most successful of Robert Pollard's 2006 side-projects (see reviews: 1,2,3) ...but a quick look at the team sheet suggests that nothing has settled down, as there have been a few additions to the squad since then. As well as Turn To Red's Pollard, Slusarenko (GBV) and Dan Peters (Mudhoney), Bad Football enlists super-subs Stephen Malkmus (Pavement), Tad Doyle (Tad) and John Moen (The Decemberists) to pad out the squad.

Malkmus lends his eccentric stunt guitar to opener You're At It, which starts things off in the right direction, with it's lolloping guitars and pounding drums. The album cover is a great Pollard collage and there are plenty of classics song titles here (Father's Favorite Temperature, The Jester Of Helpmeat), although not necessarily corresponding to the best tracks (I Can See My Dog, My Will).

The focussing of Pollard's attention on The Takeovers might suggest a more purposeful record than Turn To Red, but other than the extended team sheet their is no evidence that any more effort went into either the writing or recording of the album. There are definitely a couple more developed songs here, but in typical post-GBV Pollard style it has the sound of a fun side-project, rather than the main event.

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13th Sep 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Animal Collective

Strawberry Jam

Domino

Listening to Animal Collective records is akin to listening to the sounds inside the brain of a child genius who’s hopped up on a cocktail of Ritalin and Prozac and suffering all the known side effects of hyperactive paranoid neurosis. In a good way.

Weaved waves of hypnotic beats are mixed with samples and guitar loops to produce a sometimes awkward, but always interesting experimental sound. All this complimented by the brilliantly bonkers vocals of Avery Tare (supported by some beach boys-like harmonies). One moment singing melodically, then howling like a mad banshee - the innocence, intensity and soreness in the voice, while sounding like nothing else I’ve heard, fits the feel of the songs perfectly.

Listening to Animal Collective can sometimes be a bit challenging. The album opens with some awkward beats and crackles and beeps, but don’t be put off as everything comes together to produce a right rollicking song about monsters – Peacebone.  The stand out tracks on Strawberry Jam are Reverend Green and Fireworks. The former, it’s speculated, is about the things you see living in NYC and contains, I think, one of the best/funniest lines on the album: “Bulimic vegetarian wins weight contest”. The latter, I’m certain, is my current favourite song.

New York based Animal Collective - made up of Avey Tare, Panda Bear, Deakin and Geologist - all do their own stuff and all seem pretty prolific and I think this is their 8th long player together. (Panda Bear released a brilliant solo album earlier this year – Person Pitch – which is well worth a listen). Pound for pound, I’m not yet sure if Strawberry Jam is as good as their 2005 album Feels, but this is still a contender for album of the year if you ask me.

Listening to it I have to wonder how the bejesus they come up with such abstract ideas for their tunes. However, if they’re gonna keep on serving up delicious treats such as Strawberry Jam then I hope they keep taking the tablets.

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10th Sep 2007 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Broken Social Scene

Scala, London

Lynchpin of Canada's sprawling Broken Social Scene, described as indie's wu tang clan, Kevin Drew is a man who evidently has an aversion to pressure. In many ways this mindset has been the essence of the groups burgeoning reputation; but also perhaps provides an explanation as to why BSS have, thus far, failed to progress from a committed cult following and into the mainstream. The reluctance of Drew and co-founder Brendan Canning to seek the limelight is at the root of the collective's organic and diverse sound that invites contribution from a variety of Scene associates and members. BSS are a democracy of stars not a dictatorship or an autocracy. Shorn of the girls (Feist, Emily Haines and Amy Millan) and the brass 'blasters', tonight was very much the Drew show and initially suspicions were that he might not be able to step up to the plate.

Arriving on stage with one hand in his pocket and the other gripping a beer Drew made a little speech which reeked of 'getting excuses in early'. "Stop apologising" he was told by a particularly vocal heckler when observing that 'life is full of pressure. You get out of bed you feel pressure. You cook a meal you feel pressure. There's pressure to get the girl. There's pressure at work. So how about tonight we play free of pressure". Politely requesting the crowd's indulgence he explained the point of tonight's gig was to showcase and trial songs from the forthcoming album 'Broken Social Scene present's Kevin Drew's... Spirit if'. It wasn't the most auspicious start; akin to turning up to see your favourite footy team only to find out that some of the star names had been left on the bench and the rest would actually be playing rugby.

For a man with such a passionate fan base Drew's insecurity was surprising and as it turns out completely unfounded. As promised we were served up songs penned by Drew but interupted by seven of the Scene's stalwarts. Eschewing some of their tendencies towards ambience, balladry or electronica; opener 'Lucky Ones', with three guitars variously take the lead, was a statement of intent. Tonight was about rock. Continuing the earlier theme 'Farewell to the Pressure Kids' cranked up the volume before synth was finally allowed to rear it's head on 'Safety Grip'. Reviving previous obsessions with songs from love's outsiders the gig really kicked in with 'Too Beautiful to Fuck'; a tale of listening to people through hotel walls. Singalong for the fans came in the form of 'Backed Out on the Cocks' which the crowd enthusiastically embraced. Good as his word Drew continued to deliver more new tunes all of which showed potential. Much as it would be marvelous if it were otherwise it just can't be denied that nothing hits the spot in the same way as songs that have already been taken to the heart. After an hour or so the crowd were becoming slightly restless.

Buoyed by the mainly positive reception given to the new material the pressure now seemed to be off so that Drew and the boys began to relax. Rewarding the followers for their patience they stomped through 'Super-Connected'; just one of the winners the crowd had come in hope of hearing. Now on a roll 'Major Label Debut' was rattled through giving a delicate tune a new bouncy feel. Such was the reaction of the congregation to hearing the sermon that they'd yearned for from the cult leader there was still a nagging feeling that this was what the Broken Social scene can really deliver. There was a prevailing sense that tonight's show could have been something really special. Closing the set Drew was reconciled with his most fervent heckler inviting him onto the stage to waltz through the closing of 'Lover's Spit' a song so lush it could have filled the Royal Albert Hall several times over let alone a sweaty Scala. Revitalised by the crowd's enthusiasm for old favourites and now well and truly warmed up the Scene didn't want to vacate the stage but had to confess they had nothing more rehearsed. A quick conference was held to find out who knew how to play what while Brendan Canning stepped forward to point out; 'we're not going to cure any diseases tonight but we'll try to play you a song'. And what a song it was with 'Cause=Time' elevated to a tour de force.

All bode's well for the 'Spirit If' project and in fairness the Scala performance was a success but ultimately the sense was that this was a taster of what could have been. My own regret at illness forcing me to miss out on a performance last year of the whole BSS ensemble was only deepened. To slightly miss-paraphrase Smokey Robinson, sometimes a taste of honey can be worse than none at all.

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10th Sep 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Okkervil River

The Stage Names

Jagjaguwar

As the first beats of The Stage Names creeps into audible view any fan of this band will undoubtedly realise that times have changed since the fantastic Black Sheep Boy, Okkervile River's 2005 desperate triumph. With The Stage Names, front man Will Sheff has again managed a triumph but its of a wholly different nature. I guess you could call it a triumphant triumph which I would have thought was the best type. Black Sheep Boy had the power to almost drown you in melancholy as Sheff's tales of woe and despair were delivered with treacle like denseness over all encompassing soundscapes. Though he has by no means cheered up he is aiming his desperation to the heavens and the result is epic.

Sheff writes like a novelist and composes songs full of mysterious characters and plays out his worldly misgivings through each of their sad, broken-down lives. While Black Sheep Boy conjured up images of a time long past The Stage Names is very much rooted in the present. Here we see Sheffs characters as musicians, fans or failing victims of the show-biz mangle. All this is told with Sheff's unique lyrical ambiguity as he manages to swamp you with bookish poetry while always slipping a wink here and there to warn you not to take it all too seriously.

The first three tracks set the tempo high as the dirty riffs of Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe count you in, Unless It Kicks is an endlessly climbing rock powerhouse of a track while A Hand To Take Hold Of The Scene has a swaggeringly jovial jaunt as satisfying as a Love Cats-era Cure and as it descends into blasts of trumpet and backing 'doo doo doo's' we could be listening to Spoon. (Yes, it's that good.) But as thrilling as this opening run of songs is we know it can't continue and it just wouldn't be the same without Sheff providing us with ample opportunity to give in willingly to his unavoidable wave of blissful melancholia. Savannah Smiles is an achingly delicate tale of regret and lost moments while Girl In Port is Sheff at his storytelling best.

But if for some unimaginable reason, like you're mental, all this hasn't managed to convince you by the time you get to the penultimate John Allyn Smith Sails then you're given one last chance to reach out and grab this sorry talent by the scruff of its dirty neck. This is Sheff's tribute to the late John Berryman and it's his finest moments to date. Sheff adopts the first person as he chronicles the poets suicide but as a final twist of the grimmest humor he turns the song into a masterful rendition of the Beach Boys Sloop John B. As he launches himself to his death 'with a book in each hand,' the sorry admission, "this is the worst trip I've ever been on," rings out with laughable desperation and this songwriters genius is immortalised for ever.

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7th Sep 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Siouxsie Sioux

Mantaray

Universal

From her early days as a groupie for the Sex Pistols - and the catalyst for the Bill Grundy TV meltdown - Siouxsie Sioux (and the Banshees or course) went on to become one of the most influential bands of the punk/post-punk era - cited as a major influence on bands from The Cure (Robert Smith played guitar with the Banshees for a bit) right up to LCD Soundsystem, who covered Slowdive in 2006.

Siouxsie herself went on to have success with The Creatures and in various other guises, and while this first solo album is being billed as a comeback, a quick look through the files suggests it's just getting a bigger marketing push than some of the other late-period entries.

After a fairly average start things pick up with Here Comes That Day,  but with the 'spooky' atmosphere of Loveless or the 'moody' delivery of If It Doesn't Kill You, the song writing offers very little of note - with Siouxsie's strong voice seeming dated and more suited to the stage, projecting literal narrative lyrics up to the seats at the back.

Drone Zone is one of the most aptly titled songs I have heard in a while, and no, the title's not ironic. They Follow You provides a brief glimmer of light, with a nice extended instrumental intro although that is quickly overshadowed by the album's low point - Heaven and Alchemy. The title says it all.

While some of the songs on the album sound updated in some ways, they sound incredibly out of touch and tired in others - making this an unfortunately forgettable album.

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7th Sep 2007 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Rolling Stones

A Bigger Bang, O2

There's always that risk when you get to cross off your heroes from the all-time must-see list. Neil Young, Jane's Addiction, Dylan and Van have all delivered for me - only Lou Reed's grumpiness has really let me down. So it's kind of surreal to finally be able to check the Stones off, esp catching the final show of their two year Bigger Bang tour ??which is rumoured to be their last tour ever. Even Bill Wyman showed up (in the audience).

It's clear from the start that Mick wrote the book on being a rock frontman - he jogs around the stage, shouts out to all the different bits of the stadium, gets everyone singing (like they're not going to), tells the odd joke, strips off various layers as the gig goes along etc etc.

Keith's playing is still pretty awesome; the way he strokes chords out of his battered telecaster is one of those archetypal rock poses. No illegal smoking this time round, but everything else was what you wanted - his solo singing spot w Ron was one of the highlights, (although though you think they got the "you play guitar/I'll sing" division sorted out from the start when Mick starts playing guitar for a bit).

Ron looks like he's covering for the bits when Keith steps back for a little wander around; he also holds down some of the classic riffs as well.

As ever, Charlie's drumming holds it all together - one of those musicians who's so tight he never really looks like he's even playing.

What really impressed was how loose they still keep it - if you think about the machine behind a two year tour, it's cool to see them smiling at each other, mucking about, occasionally looking like they're going to bump into each other etc. Obviously, there's a lot of choreography, with mini-breaks built into the set to give them all a rest at different times without having to all go off stage; but that also gives the gig as a whole a natural pace and balance - they go from the bare bones version - the four Stones plus Bernard Fowler on bass - to adding backing singers, a brass section, keyboards, percussion, another guitar player (not quite sure they really need him).

The best section is probably when they step onto a section in the middle of the stage which lifts up (as they're playing) and zooms them forwards into the crowd. They drop the cameras and the giant screen footage and it's just the four (plus two) of them rocking out.

The O2 (that's "the Dome" to you and me) is a surprisingly good venue (in stadium terms) - decent rake so you can see over the people in front, sound loud enough to feel like it's a big event without it being deafening - and also, (for the crowd safety and facilities minded of you) pretty well organised - North Greenwich tube right there, didn't feel like the insane crush you get in some older giant venues around London getting in or out. Overpriced burgers, hotdogs and beers all present as you'd expect, but not crazy $; a kind of Vegas/Starbucks vibe going on around the other bits you walk through to get there.

personally, would have loved to hear Gimme Shelter, No Expectations or Midnight Rambler, but it's hard to argue with a mostly killer 19-song set that included Miss You, Tumbling Dice and Can't You Hear Me Knocking alongside the obligatory hits like Satisfaction and Start Me Up.


Set List

Start Me Up
You Got Me Rocking
Rough Justice (yup, it's a "new one")
Ain't Too Proud to Beg
She Was Hot (from 1983's Undercover)
You Can't Always Get What You Want
Can't You Hear Me Knocking
I Go Crazy (James Brown cover)
Tumbling Dice

Solo Keef n Ron moment:
You Got the Silver
Wanna Hold You

Ooh They're Coming Into The Crowd:
Miss You
It's Only Rock And Roll
Satisfaction
Honky Tonk Woman

Now They're Back On The Main Stage Again:
Sympathy for the Devil
Paint It Black
Jumpin' Jack Flash

Encore:
Brown Sugar

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28th Aug 2007 - 6 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Menomena

Friend And Foe

City Slang

Friend And Foe is the debut UK release for avant-garde US trio Menomena and it could just be the most interesting indie rock record since TV On The Radio's Return To Cookie Mountain. This is actually their third album and it presents itself as an amalgamation of various musical experiments. It is clear that there is no real leader in this band and that as a whole the group is packed full of ideas each wanting a shot at the title. Vocal duties are shared from one song to the next and musically it's all over the place. But what makes this record so rare is that instead of being the groups undoing, all this fragmentation serves to enrich the sound and actually becomes the uniting force running through everything.

Multiple vocalists is normally a recipe for disaster in my opinion. The listener will undoubtedly warm towards one sound and then reject the rest. Not the case here and the result is a musical spectrum that spans the afore mentioned TV On The Radio as in the opening track Muscle'n Flo, The Flaming Lips (Wet And Rusting) and even a touch of Folk Implosion (Air Aid). But though these comparisons may present themselves they are by no means the lasting talking point about this record. It is thrilling to hear an album that offers you so much choice from the minimal and rhythmical Weird to the astral bliss of My My not to mention the chaos of The Pelican, a whiskey soaked bar room brawl of a song that pounds its heart out until finally collapsing into a heap of crashing cymbals and screeching guitars.

Musically there is so much to sink your teeth into here but once you've found out a thing or two about this band you'll see that they stand alone in their complete vision of creating a record. The wall-of-sound music is painstakingly crafted using a complicated series of improvised loops that are recorded and arranged using a computer program developed by one of the band members Brent Knopf called Deeler. Though this computer manipulation is hardly recognizable in the finished product the bands meticulous attention to detail is glaringly obvious, shown also in the cover art designed by Craig Thompson, acclaimed creator of the graphic novel Blankets. This features a tangled mesh of drawings that change and evolve throughout the multiple permutations available depending on whether the CD is in the case or in the player.

Though fascinating, all this only serves as a bonus to the music itself. This is a band dedicated to their craft and it shows in every second of the record. Friend And Foe is the crowning achievement in the bands history and will take some skill to top but I am in no hurry to see what they do next as I feel I've only scratched the surface of this wonderful creation.

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24th Aug 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Super Furry Animals

Hey Venus!

Rough Trade

Staying true to their name, SFA’s 8th studio album and first for new label Rough Trade, Hey Venus!, is a collection of warm, fuzzy and reliable tracks from these Welsh indie stalwarts.

Recorded by Broken Social Scene producer David Newfield, it comprises 12 multi-layered tracks, that range from the Primal Screamish rock stomp opening of The Gateway Song, more than a hint of epic Elvis Costello (Run-Away), the almost horizontally laidback and beautiful (The Gift That Keeps Giving), a gaggle of funky fuzzed up rockers (Noo Consumer, Into The Night, Baby Ate My Eightball) to Carbon Dating, which wouldn’t be out of place on a 60’s UK Film soundtrack (probably Get Carter). 

All these are tied loosely around a single concept, explained by the band themelves in their open-lettered brief to Japanese artist Keiichi Tanaami, as they sought his services for the album’s artwork.(see comments). Whilst varied, no song strays too far from the pyschedelic-pop flock, resulting in an album that sounds like a well-behaved and focussed Flaming Lips.

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23rd Aug 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Spoon

The Borderline, London

Although pretty shattered from a heavy day's work setting up a new field office, some of team chimpomatic still made it down to The Borderline to see favourites Spoon on their second date in London - having played Cargo the night before. The Borderline is a great little venue, and it was nice to see a lack of both fashionistas and cameras in the crowd, just the relatively few Londeners who seem to be aware of this great band.

The songs from the new record fitted comfortably into the live show, with Rhythm and Soul, Don't Make Me A Target and The Underdog interspersed with songs from various older albums - Beast and Dragon Adored and Everything Hits At Once being some of my all-time favourites.

Singer Britt Daniel cut his hand on a guitar string at one point, prompting a bit of chit chat which loosened things up while both hand and guitar were repaired, before cranking straight back into it. The sound at the venue is also worth noting, for once getting the balance of volume and clarity absolutely perfect. The band sounded beefy but you could pick out each instruments' contribution so clearly they seemed to each have their own speaker.

There was something lacking in the show that held it back from being a classic... and all I can think is that all their songs are good to the same level. There was no boring bits, making for no obvious high points. Some of their tracks crank up like they are going to spiral into a ten minute jam, but often they are around the same length, and around the same tempo. Without some of the effects that the records employ, some of the moodier songs are brought down a notch - but where you might expect a solo acoustic version for something like I Summon You you get the full band working the song, bringing it up a notch but taking something away. I'm not sure if that's a criticism of not, and if it is I don't know what the answer would be.

Bottom line is that this is a great band, with a huge back catalogue of great songs that are likely to never disappoint live.

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22nd Aug 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Kinski

Down Below It's Chaos

Sub Pop

Like a hit-man's shot to the head, silenced through a pillow, Kinski's third album hits the target with muffled ferocity. Deep, wooly guitars rumble and thunder their way through this album sometimes accompanied by minimal vocals or simple melody but often just push forward with pounding drums as their only guide.

I would like to say that opening track Crybaby Blowout was the song that accompanied a certain 'special move' in the game Mortal Kombat where, on tapping a secret sequence of buttons your character shouted CRYBABY BLOWOUT! and rapid-fire-sucker-punched your opponent in the gut for 3.48 minutes. Sadly, it's not - but you get the gist of the awesome power with which this album opens.

And it's this power that is persistently present throughout the record whether it's with driving instrumental muscle-flexing or subdued vocal melodies. The vocals play an important part with Kinski adding much needed variety to the songs but ultimately it's the purely instrumental tracks that really drive this record. Boy, Was I Mad! is a brooding slow starter that never really seems to threaten anything but then opens up into a ferocious cacophony of thrashing guitars and crashing drums while Child Had To Catch A Train is Kinski at their best, with hard riffs backed up by whirling keyboard melodies. Whenever the band tries to show a more sensitive side like on Plan, Steal, Drive the menacing undercurrents of far off trouble creep up until before you know it you're surrounded by swirls of thumping guitars.

This may all sound quite predictable and it could easily be if handled by less competent bands but you must remember, like The Terminator, this is what Kinski do, this is all they do and they absolutely will not stop until you're dead...satisfied.

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21st Aug 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Shearwater

Palo Santo (Expanded Edition)

Matador Records

For those slackers who missed 2006's dazzling fourth album by Shearwater, Matador are here to save your bacon with a pimped-up re-release consisting of 2 discs and new deluxe packaging featuring some stunning artwork. Palo Santo is the bands first album where Jonathan Meiburg assumes full vocal duties and the result is a grander, more rounded sound that sees them rise like a phoenix from the thick melancholy that engulfed their earlier work. This isn't to suggest that this isn't melancholy. The record is inspired by the life of Warhol muse Nico so it isn't going to be a bag of laughs but while they keep to the icy chill that has become their trademark Palo Santo serves up many moments of awesome grandeur only hinted at on previous records.

Formed in 2001 by Meiburg and Will Sheff, Shearwater was meant to be a vehicle for the quieter songs penned by the two musicians while working on their principle collaboration, Okkervile River. But after the addition of new multi-instrumentalists Shearwater soon grew way beyond initial intentions and Palo Santo is their crowning glory.

La Dame Et La Licorne opens the album and actually mirrors the career of this band quite nicely. It creeps into view with Meiburg's frail, quivering voice barely audible but gradually swells to thumping piano and howling declarations. And this sets us up for Red Sea, Black Sea, one of the albums many highlights. This takes no time to pound with all its heart on the galloping rhythm that dominates this song. It's these moments of real muscle that make this record pull away from the bands back catalogue and race forward with renewed energy and confidence. Seen again in White Waves' gritty electric guitar and Seventy Four, Seventy Five's pounding piano. Having said that, there's still plenty of room for the feather-light delicacy of the title track and the achingly beautiful Failed Queen where hollow landscapes are created with sparse acoustic guitar and the frail musings of Meiburg.

This element is explored in more depth on the second disc where we get demo versions of four of the original tracks. These are drastically stripped down renditions showing the extent to which this vocalist can vary his delivery. Having seen the heat of this voice on the first CD we now get the drifting whisper like a feint trail of smoke from a newly extinguished flame. There are also 4 new songs on this bonus disc including a cover of Skip James' Special Rider Blues.

This is an expansive album from a band who started from humble beginnings but are now evolving into a great rock outfit. Shearwater have always fitted into a tradition of songwriting that seems to capture the great American landscape in all its sparse, lonely beauty but with Palo Santo they have started to evoke the power and strength of this landscape and this refurbishment only serves to enhance that.

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20th Aug 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Thee More Shallows

Book Of Bad Breaks

Anticon

The third album sees this San Francisco trio up their game from shoegazing atmospherics to damn near post-rock genius. This shift in approach has led them to the hallowed grounds of the Anticon arena in which they are free to roam anywhere they please. And roam they do, but the success of this album lies both in the distance from which this band strays from the post-rock centre and the trail they leave behind allowing a route home at all times. This route may not be easy to find but it's always there and knowing this enables the listener to trust these guys to take them where they will.

Created in a similar spirit to Anticon favorites Why? or Fog, Thee More Shallows tread a fine line between coherency and shambles threatening to fall apart at any moment. Conventional song structure is turned on its arse with many songs masquerading as lo-fi, throwaway ditties then exploding into grand moments of majesty like on the epic Night At The Night School. Starting out all soft and warm the drums soon pick up to a running pace and reach heights you never thought possible at the beginning. Or sometimes doing the opposite as in The Dutch Fist. Here Dee Kesler's vocals are fed through a synthesizer and slowly build to glorious melodies then collapse in a dirty heap of drums and fuzz.

Songs are divided up and flow together masterfully with great use of instrumental interludes. Int.1 is a blissful string section that leads you into false security before it slides into a pummeling onslaught of hard-as-hell guitars. This leads into the awesome Proud Turkeys that continues this punk barrage until Int.2 which reunites us with the strings and tricks us into thinking it's all one song.

Towards the end of the record we get The White Mask, a song which really does mirror this album as a whole. It plods along for the first 4 minutes then dwindles into virtually nothing. Then just as it seems to be hanging on by a thread it pulls it all back together and launches itself in a cloud of fuzz and drums skyward for a final crashing finale.

This is an expertly crafted album that often tries to trick us into thinking it's a lo-fi waste of time. But on reaching the end you aren't sure what you've just been listening to but you'd quite like to start again and find out. It's a brave step forward for this band and now sees them in the kind of musical area where they have earned the right to do anything they please. Highly recommended.

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7th Aug 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Various Artists

Hallam Foe - Original Soundtrack

Domino

Film maker David McKenzie wanted to free himself from the convention of composing an original score as a sound track to his forthcoming film Hallam Foe. Discouraged by the prohibitive costs of forking out for already licensed published source music McKenzie decided the best avenue to pursue this would be to approach a record label about buying up a job lot. It was a move that evidently paid off with McKenzie and Hallam Foe winning this year's Best Music in a Film Silver Bear award at the prestigious Berlin Film Festival. McKenzie's master-stroke was plumping for Domino as his label of choice. Who better to paint the aural landscape of a coming of age tale set in contemporary Britain than Domino? With the exception of the title track by label luminaries Franz Ferdinand, not a single song in this collection was commissioned for the film but instead the whole Domino archive was trawled for appropriate tunes. It's a deal that pays off for everyone because Domino have the opportunity to showcase some of their lesser known talent. And what a stable of talent it is too. As much as a film soundtrack this is a chance for the label to say 'meet the family'.

Listening to the Hallam Foe reminded me of those big occasions when one meets a whole new family, perhaps the in-laws or a new step family for the first time. In this case the Domino family. Like all family do's it is a gathering of quite disparate characters who all have little more than a name in common. Like a family from a Mike Leigh film, or Jonathan Franzen novel there are inevitably secrets. The Domino's are no exception and provide a soundtrack populated by acts who all have a role to play.

Opening the album is 'Blue Boy' by Orange Juice, with Edwyn Collins in the role of the family hatchback driving Uncle reminding all that he once zipped around on a scooter and chopped out songs with military beats and Clash riffs. King Creosote discloses the discovery of an extra marital affair that everyone pretends not to know about in 'The Someone Else'. Rebellious cousins have shown up with Clinic's 'if i could read your mind' snarled out like Jonny Rotten singing a Smiths song and U.N.P.O.C screeching 'here on my own' like Frank Black attempting a Talking Heads number. Pssap is the cute little niece playing kazoo and singing about their Tricycle. The role of exotic wife of the uncle who made all the money is played by Juana Molina with a sultry seductive voice. Franz Ferdinand are the golden boys who have been overindulged and fail to entertain. The sister who's been damaged by a broken heart comes in the form of the sweet and sensitive 'I hope that you get what you want' by the soothing Woodbine and all the teenage heart break is narrated by James Yorkston with the wisdom of an 80 year old granddad. The gathering is completed by a couple of annoying younger brother's, in particular Double Shadow with their pretentious sub Prince effort and Future Pilot AKA who linger with a brooding air of menace.

Like any big do, it's not possible to remember all names and recall all the characters, some just add a background hum to the atmosphere of the Hallam Foe affair but on this one meeting alone the Domino family are ones that I'd definitely like to spend more time with.

#Music
#Muxloe

31st Jul 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Miracle Fortress

Five Roses

Rough Trade

It's no coincidence that the release of Miracle Fortress' debut album happens to coincide with the belated start of the british summertime. Montreal based multi-instrumentalist and vocalist Graham Van Pelt must be a powerful man indeed to keep the sunshine at bay until he felt fit to offer this album to the world as one play of this idyllic piece of work will tell you where the nice whether has been for all this time. Listening to Five Roses is like lying on your back looking up at the sun, shimmering and dancing between the branches of a sheltering tree. As it blows gently in the breeze shards of light make their way through the foliage to intermittently soak you in their warmth. I include the tree in this analogy because this isn't just your sun bleached, airy-fairy pop record, it's much more varied than that. Van Pelt's vocals drift effortlessly on soaring thermals of delicate synths but also march triumphantly alongside pounding drums and joyous guitars.

Records of this type can often stay out too long in the sun and end up with no real focus to punctuate the breezy soundscapes. Opening track Whirrs puts that to right straight away with it's stomping rhythm and driving guitars. It's not the rising warmth of the rest of the record but it tells us unequivocally to feel free to plan the barbecue cos it's gonna be blue sky's from here on in. Debut single Have You Seen Her In Your Dreams is pure bliss with its soft melodies that will melt any heart and dispel any recollection of winter. Maybe Lately takes a slightly different path to your affection with it's Brian Wilson harmonies and jaunty baselines while Hold Your Secrets To Your Heart is a gently progressing but ultimately triumphant pop master stroke.

The album has a definite progressive structure as it steadily enlarges on this hopefulness throughout the forty three minutes. From the delicate droplets of warmth of the first half songs like Blasphemy with its midway gear shift slowly increase the downpour until the finale of This Thing About You provides us with the full panoramic view of the glorious ocean spread out before us. Granted, this song could evoke images of a T Mobile advert where a guy smugly struts around town on his phone without a care in the world purely cos he's got 400 free minutes, but stick with it and these appalling images will soon melt away. It's a triumphant end to a beautiful day.

Not since I discovered the highs of Loney, Dear's Sologne have I been this satisfied with a record. This is pure comfort without being easy listening. It's blissfully engaging and shimmers and shines as if soaked in light. Highly recommended.

#Music
#BC

30th Jul 2007 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Ween

The Friends EP

Schnitzel

Where can you begin when describing Ween? Like a friend who's the life and soul of the party, they often end up puking in the punch bowl and making out with your cousin. You know you should just stop hanging out with them, but you're always too ready to just give them one more chance.

Ween have always made a genre out of having no genre, but as the band seem ever hungry to (re)conquer 'new' territory they can be a little hard to pin down. With the opening salvo of Friends sounding like an Estonian entry into the Eurovision song contest I think It's safe to say that every genre has now been covered. Sounding note for note like a raved up Barbie Girl, only the lyrics serve as a clue that this is no what it seems. "Do you want me as your special friend?"

...or maybe I'm just believing the hype about Ween. Often lauded as superb musicians, I am forever finding myself waiting for that one serious (OK, maybe not serious, but at least less inside-joke-orientated) album. I have personally heard moments of their brilliance (Stay Forever, What Deaner Was Talkin' About, If You Could Save Yourself... ) and I know that a classic album is in there - they just seem reluctant to let it out. Like a west coast KLF, they are constantly playing the fool - poking fun and showing us just how easy it is to make all kinds of music, yet never quite letting us inside the circle. What do they actually want to sound like? What do they actually like? The psuedo-reggae of King Billy? The latin groove of Light Me Up? Or maybe the 80's soft-rock or Slow Down Boy, which never quite hits yacht? Hopefully it's the classic rock of Did You See Me, currently playing on their Myspace page.

It may be (yet) another mis-step, but this won't stop me looking and yet again I'll just put this one down to a funny joke and wait for the album proper - La Cucaracha which is due in the Autumn. That's bound to be the one to finally unleash the inner Ween.

#Music
#CSF

26th Jul 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The New Pornographers

Challengers

Matador Records

I went to see The New Pornographers a couple of years ago at London’s Borderline. I hadn’t really heard many of their tunes, but this Canadian 7/8 piece came highly recommended. I can’t say every one of their hard driving indie pop tunes clicked with me, but I was certainly impressed and puzzled by their style. There was something about the structure of their tunes that was odd and original and very compelling. (Plus, their drummer was mental and who doesn’t like to see that?).

Their fourth album, “Challengers”, is similar – there’s such variety in the way they build songs, and some great riffs dotted throughout, that on my first listen I kinda knew I liked it but at times I was perplexed as to why.

“My Rights Versus Yours” is a brilliant catchy opener that builds from a mellow folky start to flourish into an air-punching, foot stomping tune. This is followed by the equally ace “All the Old Showstoppers” which houses some great hooks and again made me do a little jig when it hit the heights. “All the Things That Go to Make Heaven and Earth” is where they sound closest to fellow Canadians Arcade Fire, but the next two tunes, “Failsafe” and “Unguided”, are battling it out as my favourite on the album.

"Myriad Harbour", is another cracking tune where the singer starts the lines only for the rest of the band, like an annoying girl I once worked with, to finish his thoughts for him. This song also heralds the first of a couple of moments on the album, as the vocals get a bit Tenacious D (he asks his local record store for “an American music anthol-low-geeee” – Jack Black stylee), where I’m not sure if they’re having a laugh or being deadly serious.

Singing duties are, however, swapped around four band members (lady singers Kathryn Calder and Neko Case have - I can exclusively reveal - nice voices) and they pepper songs with some pleasant harmonies. These come through strongest in the splendid “Mutiny, I promise You” and the sparse “Adventures in Solitude”.

The main man of this side project (all band members release records as solo artists or with other bands), A.C. Newman, says “Over the years I’ve just learned how to write better songs”. It certainly seems apparent here as it feels like there’s more depth and diversity than on their previous albums. While it might not be as constantly full on as, say, Electric Version (their 2nd album from 2003) - which some of their fans may not thank them for - I think with repeat listens you’ll reap the rewards of this interesting and enjoyable album.


Bonus Trivia:

- The New Pornographers name, its suggested, was inspired by a quote from American Pentecostal Televangelist, Jimmy Swaggart, who declared that music was, yep, the ‘new pornography’.

- Jimmy Swaggart also hated gays: “'I’ve never seen a man in my life I wanted to marry. And I'm going to be blunt and plain: if one ever looks at me like that, I'm going to kill him and tell God he died.”

- Jimmy Swaggart also publicly exposed one of his buddies for having an affair - claiming his mate was a "cancer in the body of Christ."

- What goes around comes around… Jimmy himself got busted – twice - for sleeping with prostitutes, but was less forthcoming in criticism on this one:  "The Lord told me it's flat none of your business."

#Music
#Locochimpo

24th Jul 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Caribou

Andorra

City Slang

More enjoyable laptop psychedelia from reindeer-lover Dan Snaith. All works pretty well, with opener Melody Day launching things in a melancholy style (great Four Tet remix on the single as well, for once a reworking that takes things down rather than up). Feels a bit more live than previous outings, keeping the samples more in the background. The song to jam ratio is improved this time too; feels like a band rather than a solo project. If you're into the whole acoustic guitars being sampled thing, you'll be happy taking a trip to Andorra. We're still holding his Montague Arms freakout against him at Chimp Towers, but that shouldn't put you off.

#Music
#chimp71

24th Jul 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Latitude Festival

Henham Park, Southwold, Suffolk

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘It’s called, the Eye of the Tiger’.

‘What?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#Music
#Gig
#LG

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

Kings Of Leon

Hammersmith Apollo, London

The Kings Of Leon live show is a professionally executed display from start to finish. It can be dazzling, it can be powerful but leaves little to chance and allows practically no room for maneuver. The songs are so strong and front man Caleb Followill has a voice that more than filled the cavernous space of Hammersmith Apollo (good job really seeing as we had the cheap seats right at the back) but they never strayed from the script and said very little to the adoring London crowd. However the epic Knocked Up from the new album was a clear highlight. It's open, sprawling structure gave ample room for the band to look up from their instruments and allow the crowd to take over the role of backing vocals. This was a band who musically are at the top of their game but now need to go that extra mile when playing live and transform this awesome back catalogue into more than just good rock music.

- BC - 3 stars

Overall a tight performance from the KOL quartet, but unfortunately nothing more than that. In advance of the gig I'd listened to a playlist of all three albums on random and thats exactly what the gig was like.  A bit more crowd interaction and innovation in the live set required from a band who should by now be more confident on stage than they seemed.

- CJ - 3 stars

10 for Fans (the Song)
9 for fans (the crowd)
8 for the riffs
7 for the sound
6 for the drums
5 for the big lightbulbs
4 for the douche bag who threw a whole pint of beer at the stage
3 for the bands personality
2 for the total lack of air-con
1 for my crow's nest view

Total 55% = 2.75 stars, but I'll round that up to 3 as I'll admit I wasn't in a very good mood.

- CSF - 3 stars

Since when has the experience of standing right at the back of a venue in the aisle been sold as "rear circle standing"?!!! total rip-off from hammersmith apollo, esp when everyone stood up once KOL came on, making it impossible to see anything. so that put a bit of damper on things. audience w a view seemed to be loving it all though, much more of a singalong atmosphere than i was expecting, and when the sound wasn't muddy they pulled it off, decent set culled from all 3 albums; thought the new stuff worked best. could have done w an extended jam version of knocked up maybe, but still sounded pretty great. all v tight, thought they could afford to loosen up a little and spiral off from the recorded template occasionally - they're obviously a good enough band to freestyle every now and again. giving it a solid 3*, w the hammersmith apollo rear circle standing experience in mind

- C71 - 3 stars

#Music
#Gig
#Chimpomatic

13th Jul 2007 - 8 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Bill Callahan

Woke On A Whaleheart

Drag City

Enough praise has been showered on Joanna Newsome in these hallowed pages over the past year or so that it's only fair to give her other half a word or two - if only to avoid any awkward moments round the Newsome/Callahan dinner table. After a long and prosperous relationship with Drag City, Woke On A Whaleheart sees Callahan emerge from the (Smog) and release this little gem under his own name. Though all the trappings of a (Smog) record are present here the name thing isn't the only change that's occurred since 2005's A River Aint Too Much To Love. Callahan's deadpan delivery and startlingly simple poetry have always been the driving force behind his music. Like a tree in the depths of winter Callahan's music has always stood proudly firm in it's stark nakedness and this is where it's beauty lay but as special as this may be it's great to see a new spring time creep into this sound and with Woke On A Whaleheart the tree is starting to bloom.

This analogy seems a fitting one as much of Callahan's lyrics are to do with nature. The opening track continues the river theme where the previous album left off. From The Rivers To The Ocean is the gentlest of openers with deep piano chords and soaring strings. First single Diamond Dancer is more rhythmical while Sycamore is pure bliss. It's a beautiful piece of work with Callahan's baritone musings tunefully weighting down the delicate finger picking that floats effortlessly around this song. Callahan is also joined by some gospel infused backing vocals that feature frequently on this album giving the whole thing some subtle religious undertones. The Wheel continues the country traditions honored by Callahan in the past as does Day with it's rolling saloon piano structure.

The whole extravaganza is brought to a close with a marvelous slow builder that sees Callahan sounding like a modern-day Johnny Cash. It rumbles along slowly picking up instruments and layers along the way until they all come together for the repeated chorus, " A man needs a woman or a man to be a man." It's a glorious end to this album and shows the old Smog tree in full bloom like never before. The inclusion of backing vocals and layers of instruments to accompany the lonely yet warm vocals and guitar have provided much meat to these bones and though it by no means discredits the work that has gone before it signals a welcome new dawn for this avant-garde mystery man.

#Music
#BC

9th Jul 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Monkey: Journey to the West

Palace Theatre, Manchester

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spoon

Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga

Anti

For me, Spoon are one of the great American Indie bands - seemingly always recording, and always on tour. I got into them late, but like all good bands they have a back catalogue that keeps on giving... all the way back to their rough edged debut Telephono.

Telephono led them onto a major label deal with Elektra, who then dropped them after A Series of Sneaks failed to do the required business - a story covered in their Agony of Lafitte EP. Their subsequent records each expanded the success of the last, and 2005's Gimme Fiction seemed like a big hit - with I Turn My Camera On seemingly playing in all the clubs. I guess I was just in the right clubs, as number 44 in the charts doesn't demonstrate sales being where they should for a band this good. Their critical success continues however, and following last year's sidestep into soundtracks (for Will Ferrell's Stranger Than Fiction) Britt Daniel and co are back with another great record.

Don't Make Me A Target heralds the bands return, and quickly seems to address these political times ...or maybe that's just me reading things into it. Either way, politics doesn't get in the way of a thumping good tune, that quickly dispenses with the lyrics for a guitar and piano attack. The Ghost Of You Lingers is on the edge of pretentious, but falls just the right side of brilliant. It's an unconventional song, with effects and layered vocals that seem like they're building up to something which never comes, but where it takes you on it's own terms is more than satisfactory - dark, atmospheric and moody.

Cherry Bomb rolls back the years to the Girls Can Tell era and the kind of high-school story that seems to be the Spoon staple. Touching, moving and sentimental - built around great music with a banging piano trumpet and drums. Don't You Evah is a cover of a song by The Natural History, and there's some classic Spoon in tracks like My Little Japanese Cigarette Case and Don't You Evah.

The album is more of a fall back to the classic Spoon sound, before the mildly misleading diversion of Gimme Fiction. It's the sound of cruising in a 50's hotrod, chasing girls and drinking milkshakes with Richie Cunningham.

The band has moved forward and become more sophisticated, building more complex, layered backgrounds for their deceptively simple songs. There seems to be some influence coming in from the sound track experience and Rhythm and Soul ticks a lot of my favourite boxes to great effect. Great tempo changes. Great keyboards. A touch of Small Stakes Ice Hockey rock. I've narrowed the magic ingredient down to a squeaky little sound or a barking dog - which will make CSF junior chuckle one day. Animal Midnight has it, and so does On Parade.

Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga is short, at 36 minutes / 10 songs ("the perfect number of songs for an album" apparently), but it never seems it. This is a classy and well-produced record, with some great songs, magic touches and restrained, clever song-writing. It's not a massive step forward - which is no complaint from me, as it is the sound of a great band knocking out another great album.

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5th Jul 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Dogs

Tall Stories From Under The Table

Weekender

This album has taught me a lot about the current music scene and how I listen these days, and here's how. Despite the increasingly unstable world in which we live the protest song is pretty much non existent. Few bands have the individuality to really describe a certain time or place. Dogs don't make protest songs at all so you might wonder why I'm wasting your time in talking about this. Well, the reason lies in their similarity to bands like The Jam. "But The Jam never made protest songs either" I hear you cry. But what they did do better than most was perfectly capture the times in which they were recording. And since these times were less than rosy their songs become a form of protest. This startling similarity with another band would normally put me right off but although Jonny Cooke's voice is very Paul Weller it's more the spirit of The Jam that makes this record so appealing. It has the same stirring energy that renders it more marching music than moshing music. Plus, Mr. Weller is a big fan and actually plays piano on the final track so that makes it alright.

It has also brought to light interesting observations about how I listen to new records these days. The constantly turning marketing machine makes it very hard for a band's true talent to shine. Even the most sincere music can appear as little more than the result of a board meeting and as a result the innocent faith we used to have in rock has been lost and an emerging ban has a lot to prove for me from the outset. As soon as I see their advertising plastered all around Shoreditch, we've got problems. I realised with Dogs that an album by a relatively new band unfortunately starts off rubbish and has to prove itself otherwise. I came to this observation because that's just what this album has done.

Less than a minute into track one and something is stirring in the belly. Dirty Little Shop kicks this album off with a triumphant fist in the air. The vocals are grimy yet swelling and the accompanying guitars and drums are strong and driving. It's pretty much this from here on in. There really isn't a duff track here. The Jam thing is glaringly obvious and you do start to wonder if this is going to be a problem but your tapping foot tells you to lighten up and just go with it man. And once you get to This Stone Is A Bullet you'll be glad you did. It's the album figure head and it's as near to the mob rousing anthem as Mr. Weller ever got (well ok, it's not, but while you're in it you think it could be.) Forget It All is a driving, spiky little number complete with hand claps while Little Pretenders shows Dogs bearing their teeth in this forceful guitar onslaught that is continued on the awesome, energy bursting By The River.

Like I explained earlier, I can't help my cynical mind working overtime and trying to ruin a lot of new music for me. Maybe it's my age, the honeymoon period I enjoyed with emerging bands has long ceased but in its place there is something more profound. Yes bands have to work hard to rise above this cynicism but once they do they rarely go back. At this age it's hard to fall for the NME hype as it's not directed at you. So you might miss out on a few really special moments in new music as they happen but you'll get to them eventually. Dogs' 2005 debut Turn Against This Land pretty much passed me by but i've found them now and my life is better for it. Dogs are 5 unpretentious Londoners making solid songs direct from their experiences, they recall great bands who did the same back when they were brimming over with the same energy that drives these guys. Highly recommended.

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3rd Jul 2007 - 8 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Souvaris

A Hat

Gringo

In a music scene overrun with convoluted titles such You Say Clap Your Hands We Say Yeah Yeah Yeah's (is that right?) it's a joy to review this album called A Hat. It would be such a shame if it's brief title was the only reason this record was a joy to review and thankfully it isn't. Following on from their 2005 album I Felt Nothing At All, A Hat is a smoldering powerhouse of instrumental muscle very much in the same vein as Tortoise or Explosions In The Sky but has a healthy spattering of Battles as well.

As if making up or the album's title these songs are anything but brief. Not counting the first intro the shortest song here is over eight minutes and the other 3 are all around the 14 minute mark and for a band that produce uber serious, post-rock marathons they lighten the load with their titles. The second track builds on airy, spacious melodies but gets progressively louder and harder until it finally bears its teeth in pounding guitars and drums, would you believe it's called Quit Touching My Ass?

Hand or Finger? is less sprawling and is more immediately accessible both in its length and spiky guitars and pounding drums. The album finishes on a long-haul of swelling guitars and wave upon wave of crashing symbols that suddenly drops away in place of a home straight of funky bass lines and delicate electronics, and all this under the title The Young Ted Danson.

Each song plays like a soundtrack to its own movie. They change tempo repeatedly, sometimes taking their time and sometimes giving out no warning at all. A strange sense of narrative drifts through them that really holds your attention. This way they maintain the lyrical structure but stay purely instrumental.

Souvaris have a healthy mix going on here. In formal terms they fit perfectly with their post-rock counterparts but with playfulness and a clever ear for the pop hook they manage to pull themselves out of the self-indulgent fog that often lingers for too long in this genre. There is a refreshing sense of irony about this album that if it were a person would be fun to hang around with but would also be capable of great depth. They'd back you up in a fight but could quite easily have caused it in the first place.

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28th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Alias

Collected Remixes

Anticon

Is this the sound of an underground label on the turn? I doubt it judging by the quality Anticon releases that flank this one but you really have to wonder what place this collection of easy listening remixes has either on this label or on the discography of an artist with the pedigree of Alias. Together with people like Sole and Dose One,  Brendon Whitney was among the first wave of artists to launch the Anticon assault and with his work on the Deep Puddle Dynamics project and his debut The Other Side Of The Looking Glass Alias established himself as main player in this pioneering collective.

Which makes this release all the more curious. It's not bad at all, in fact many of these tracks in their own right are pretty solid but put them in a context such as this and boredom soon sets in. This is a pretty varied cast featuring the likes of Lunz, Sixtoo and Lali Puna and yet it all sounds like a substandard Alias record. All distinctive characteristics of the original songs seem to have been ironed out in favor of the presiding bass heavy, synth beat that Alias is all about at the moment.

Some standout moments are Why?'s inclusion on the 13 & God remix, lush atmospherics on Lucky Pierre's Crush and the song of the album has to go to Sixtoo's Karmic Retribution/Funny Sticks with it's booming beat and apocalyptic grandiosity.  But these are the songs I would have expected to shine as the originals are so good and a part from that it's all pretty forgettable. I normally recoil from remix albums for the opposite reason, that they are too fragmented, so I guess that's one distinctive feature about this record.

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20th Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet