Chimpomatic

The Black Angels

Passover

However you arrange your record collection these days, you will have no trouble fitting this lot in. Whether it's by mood, genre or simply alphabetical you'll find this Austin based group sits nicely between Black Sabbath, Black Mountain and The Black Keys. The only other reference that I didn't mention as it kinda ruins my theory is The Velvet Underground. This band take their name from a Velvet classic, "The Black Angels Death Song" and at times the spirit of Nico is summoned to great effect.

These guys aren't trying to rewrite musical history but Passover is a damn good listen none the less. Album opener Young Men Dead rolls in with a dirty piece of plodding, monotone guitar accompanied by the lyric, "Head for the hills, pick up steel on your way" and the mood is set for a gloomy, psychedelic and often heavy rock delight.

The Sniper At The Gates Of Heaven follows a structure that is employed throughout most of this album, it marches into view like the advancing armies of Mordor and builds the sense of impending doom magnificently with the help of Alex Maas' anxious and highly strung vocals while Bloodhounds On My Trail evokes The Velvets' world of drugged out, paranoid psychedelic but soon leaves it behind as the volume is notched up and off we plod to far rockier shores.

It's not all this satisfying though, The First Vietnamese War sounds like John Goodman's funeral speech to Donny in The Big Lebowski with it's simplistic and relentless "War Is Hell" subject matter. This sentiment is continued on the albums closing hidden acoustic track where we get the lyrics "He's fighting in the Iraq war, what for?" and it's a shame that this highly fulfilling album ends with the repetition of "Somebody please stop that war." But these complaints are few and far between and don't come close to ruining an album that satisfyingly ticks all the rock boxes.

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7th Aug 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Idlewild

(dir. Bryan Barber)

Under The Cherry Moon, The Bodyguard, Swept Away, Glitter… the popstar-to-actor route isn't exactly littered with a long list of great movies. So, even though I've enjoyed Outkast's output over the last few years, I wasn't exactly looking forward to their movie debut.

But they've pulled it off. Idlewild's not without its faults, but in making an old-fashioned musical they've created an enjoyable vehicle that plays to their strengths.

Set in the Prohibition-era South, Big Boi (aka Antwan A. Patton now he's an actor) is a roguish bootleg booze-running club owner/rapper (yup, lots of anachronistic flourishes here) who's a ladeez man/nice guy really. Andre 3000 (aka Andre Benjamin now he's an actor) is a mortician by day/piano player in Big Boi's club at night. A foxy singer shows up, there's a nasty gangster moving in on the action, Big Boi gets trouble from his wife, Dre's getting it from his uptight dad etc…nothing too original in the plot but it works.

Shot by Bryan Barber, who did the videos for The Whole World, Hey Ya! and The Way You Move, it's packed with little animated touches, bursts into choreographed musical numbers every now and then (which is fine, as they are both playing musicians who are singing songs - it's not one of those musicals where they burst into song when they want someone to pass the toast), and lets the Outkast charisma come through.

The music's up to scratch too - basically the Outkast template reworked in an early jazz style - but still using drum machines, rapping, hip hop breaks etc.

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3rd Aug 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

The Forum, Kentish Town, London

We've been loving the Clap Your Hands album this year, so were looking forward to this gig at The Forum (high on the favourite venues list). Support band The Boy Least Likely To... sucked, following the recent "branding+website+aren't-we-wacky, c'mon sing along=boy least likely to be bought by me" formula of quite a few UK bands. Once they were out of the way and most of the balloons had been popped the show really started. Clap Your Hands were kind of as expected (with the exception of the Scarecrow hat and actual country styles) - serious but not too serious, straight down to business and thoroughly holding the crowd's attention. They were soon onto the one of my favourites, In This Home On Ice - and the crowd were loving it. Almost every song seemed like your favourite, including several new songs - all sounding good. The band few us a few red herrings, starting songs with a bit of blues finger picking before rolling into Is This Love, or stretching things out. The sound didn't seem to do much to lift the muffled lyrics out of the music at first, but pretty soon everyone was picking out the zeitgeist (sub: please check my grammar) highlights, like sex, and drugs, and rock and rock and rock and rock and roll. Lead singer Alec Ounsworth didn't have much to say, but the couple of the other guys chipped in now and then with some banter and a couple of song introductions.

One thing I did overlook when anticipating this gig was my own rule of not seeing bands with less than three albums under their belt - and that's where these guys loose points. They were undoubtedly great performers, putting in amped up performances of nearly their entire album, many of which are already near classic songs.... however, take away the two skimpy ditties and the entire album clock in at barely 35 minutes. A not-enough-songs scenario ensued, with the band huddling between nearly every song to discuss how to proceed. They did everything you'd expect, and while the new songs were certainly good ("Satan Said Dance" in particular) they were still unknown, not bringing anything like the same crowd response as Details Of The War or The Skin Of My Yellow Country Teeth. A harsh critic may say it was like seeing Radiohead in support of Pablo Honey, where they were playing mystery songs of their forthcoming album second album. A more generous one may say it was like seeing Oasis just before Definitely Maybe.

The awesome Upon This Tidal Wave Of Young Blood has always had the promise to be stretched out as a 10 minute Free Bird -style jam, and it looked briefly like that might close the set, however an enthusiastic stage diver managed to unplug Alec Ounsworth's guitar, bringing that dream to an somewhat abrupt conclusion.

The band came back on with a new song (or was it a cover?) and although the encore was padded out with the un-listenable Clap Your Hands even that song sounded good live, before Heavy Metal finished the set and upped it's position on the grid.

Looking forward to the "Sophomore Plus" world tour of London.

Click here for pictures.
www.clapyourhandssayyeah.com

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11th Jul 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Sufjan Stevens

The Avalanche

This was billed as a collection of out-takes and demos from the 2005's critically acclaimed Illinois album. Having announced his plan to make a record about each of the US states, Sufjan Stevens became the hardest working man in the music industry. Not only are there loads of states, but each album he makes is twice as long as your average record. So what does he do? He makes more albums in between. Like Illinois wasn't long enough that it has yielded enough extra's to make another album - and The Avalanche weighs in at 1.2 hours.

I was quite excited about this album as I am a big fan of Mr. Stevens but have to admit I am quite disappointed and for very baffling reasons. My main complaint, and this is where it becomes baffling, is that this record contains too many new songs and not enough rehashed old ones. I told you it was strange. What I mean by this is that in recent years Sufjan Stevens' sound, though brilliant, has become very polished involving a myriad of instruments and backing singers to create a very complex and layered sound. So what I wanted from this release was the same songs pared down to their bare essentials, his rough sketches before he drafted in the horn section. And the best moment on this record is when just that happens. There is a beautiful rendition of the best Illinois offering 'Chicago' early on, but then he goes on to include 2 more renditions of the same song and none of them are as good as the afore mentioned versions. By the end of the album you are quite bored of 'Chicago'.

I know I sound ungrateful and any other band that put out an album of new songs that were this good would get a glowing review, but with Sufjan Stevens I want less. He puts out so many great songs that he is in danger of saturating the market. This album is no exception. 'Saul Below' is a beautiful, melancholic gem and 'Pittsfield' is simply heartbreaking. Here Sufjan lets us into his troubled past through a dialogue with his less than perfect father. "I can talk back to you now, I know, from a few things that I learnt from this TV show." It's as if he is assuming the role of himself as a child but with the gift of hindsight. It is uplifting but in the saddest of ways. Only Sufjan can make my heart break like this, but he does it so often and it's becoming a problem, my broken heart needs to protect itself and is in danger of becoming immune. I had it playing at home as I was writing this review and my girlfriend said, "sometimes the stuff you listen to can be a bit wet." Of course I scoffed at this and told her she was wrong, but then secretly found myself agreeing with her. Sorry Sufjan but I just don't think the world needs this album.

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11th Jul 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Nathan Fake

Drowning In A Sea Of Love

This is a surprisingly beautiful release from the Reading based artist Nathan Fake, on the Border Community label. I say surprising because I really haven't been buying this type of music for a while as the market got so saturated with it. Drowning... is a blissed out, synth-electronica album not unlike something you may find on the fabulous German label Morr Music. It's warm electronica with soul. It's dedicated to creating soundscapes and moods rather than minimal bleep, glitch displays. He manages this by slowly building the structure with simple beats awash with ever increasing layers of synthesizers, cymbals and the occasional sample. The first track, 'Stops' is the highlight. The beats trickle down like water over the top of a slightly unnerving sample of breathing. A delicate beat fades in and the melody begins and sparkles with such vulnerability it could almost collapse. It is like someone has fitted an iPod to your head while you are deep sea diving and all you can hear are these tiny drops of beats and your own breath.

While no song quite tops the opener it is a very satisfactory experience, changing mood often from meditative to almost dancy-electro-pop. Fake isn't pushing any boundaries here and is walking in some very well trodden footsteps but is certainly doing them proud and filling them well.

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11th Jul 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Thom Yorke

The Eraser

Earlier this year the Radiohead drought we had all been experiencing was finally over as they announced a massive tour and speculation about a new album was up and running. The shows were dazzling and many new songs were showcased, but talk of a new album was soon silenced when we were told not to expect anything until next year. Then, on their message board, Thom Yorke floated the certainty of a forthcoming collection of things he had been working on with past producer Nigel Goodrich and tongues were wagging furiously once more. He was quick to forbid any mention of the word 'solo' when talking about 'The Eraser' and stressed it was a collection of laptop ditties he had been working on for years and didn't spell the end for Radiohead.

And so here we have it, Thom Yorke's not-solo, solo record. And what a puzzling little thing it is too. I wasn't expecting to be treated to glorious, euphoric, acoustic gems from the master of guitar song writing, I knew it was a laptop affair and so I think I expected The Gloaming, the wonderful beat/click excursion on Hail To The Thief. As it turns out we get none of the above. Instead 'The Eraser' is a collection of 9 very minimal, stark and unforgiving experiments. I must admit to having a hard time with this album at first. I was so excited about it's release and had formed expectations. After the first few listens I thought it was shallow, thin, lazy and lacked not just the grandeur but the immediacy and urgency of Radiohead's recent stuff. None of Radiohead's albums are perfect and they always manage to include a song that goes nowhere and lets the side down (a Frank Lampard if you will.) 'The Eraser' seemed full of such songs and appeared to have been released far too soon and needed a lot more work. But then I started to think of it as more of an artist's sketch book, a place and opportunity where the artist can experiment with style and content and not be burdened with the need to finish or resolve any ideas, a place where he can touch on more personal themes and opinions as if these creations were private and never meant for exposure. I then started to see it differently and although it is far from perfect it has something that Radiohead can never produce.

The title track starts the proceedings off on a rather low-key manner with a soft beat skittering around a repeated piano cord. Yorke's vocals are equally as soft and seem to float over the ever more layered backing arrangement. The lyrics take on the Morrissey like structure of 'The more you try to erase me, the more that I appear,' there is a slight pause then the song drifts back in with a beautiful subtlety that is often seen throughout this album. Analyse is one of the more successful, beat driven songs that follows with Yorke reflecting on the role we play in this life stating, "it gets you down/you're just playing a part."

The Clock has all the makings of the kind of material I had expected from this album, starting off with Yorke's now trademark beatboxing, for want of a better word, the sort of noises and grunts he makes over the beat as he is getting himself into the zone. A rolling bassline and a beat that threatens to build progressively caries us away with the doom-ridden vocals of 'Time is running out for us.' and yet takes us nowhere and builds to nothing. This is quite often the case for many of the songs and on the first few listens is very annoying. As soon as he has established the melody and promised you so much the tempo is sustained and then ends.

The closest this album comes to a single is Black Swan, which is to be used on the new Richard Linklater animation A Scanner Darkly. I am surprised at this choice as it is one of the weakest songs. A rather unimaginative beat accompanies the repeated vocal "this is fucked up." Unfortunately this heralds the low part of the album with the turkey 'Skip Divided' bumbling along with monotonous mumblings labouring over empty beats and terrible lyrics. "I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm your lap dog/ I just need my number and location."

The quality is resumed however with the beautiful Atoms For Peace. This song has a slightly different feel to it than the rest of the album. I would hesitate to be so shallow and say that it hints at a more positive outlook but the Boards Of Canada type woolly beats and fuzz that accompany the uncharacteristically sweet vocals create a strange kind of nostalgia and almost lullaby feel.

This airy feeling is literally washed away as we move on to And It Rained All Night. The now familiar curtain of doom once again descends and the sinister synth washes are slapped on thick. Yorke is clearly getting accustomed to his new instrument and as he layers samples, twitches, and booming bass to create the nervous apprehension that precedes an approaching wave. Here we see Yorke's environmental concerns and fears and are reminded of Stanley Donwood's woodcut cover image that depicts King Canute trying to hold back a giant wave. This is one thing that I was glad to see in these songs. Although they are much simpler in construction than any Radiohead song they can be interpreted in many different ways. The have very obvious political messages and yet can be seen on a much smaller scale to be about more personal fears and emotions to do with love and relationships, a theme we have not seen much of since The Bends.

Harrowdown Hill is probably the high point of this album and yet the lowest point in terms of mood. On this song Yorke has manages to create one of the saddest and heart wrenching songs of his career. It is sung from the point of view of someone who has clearly died in suspicious and tragic circumstances and with a deep sense of regret he speaks his parting words to those he is leaving behind. This feeling is overwhelming and only amplified when we find out that the song is in fact about the tragic suicide of government scientist Dr. David Kelly. Harrowdown Hill is the Oxfordshire woods where his body was found in 2003 and with the lyrics "You will be dispensed with when you become inconvenient," Yorke is, for the first time, not mincing his words. This all contributes to the general and important point to note, that this is not a Radiohead album and the sooner you understand this the sooner you start to get it and enjoy it. This took me some time and for a while was very disappointed with what I was hearing. Harrowdown Hill is a prime example of a far more direct approach to what Thom has to say. It's as if his band has become too big to really spell it out and he is using this opportunity to let us know what he thinks. It doesn't always work but when it does, as on Harrowdown Hill, it is electrifying. Thom Yorke's work has flaws but that is what makes it so compelling - and this is no exception.

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6th Jul 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Superman Returns

(dir. Bryan Singer)

Been wondering what Bryan Singer's version of the man in tights was going to be like - especially after being thoroughly baffled by the mess that is X-Men 3 (which he was supposed to be doing before this came up).

First up, Superman Returns is a pretty family-friendly summer romp. The music is there from the 1978 version, as is the Marlon Brando "hello, my son" voiceover, which all makes it seem like a remake more than a new version. Even though it's always difficult to hold both the Superman and Star Wars themes in your mind at the same time (ie they're basically the same song, thanks John Williams), it's still pretty rousing stuff that gets you in the mood for watching some dude fly around.

The plot, such as it is, is that Superman's been off somewhere for five years. And now he's back. Just in time to save Lois Lane from dying in a space shuttle-related plane crash. Pretty 80s scenario.

Even though he looks like he's just got out of college, Clark Kent is such an ace reporter that he's able to get his job back after also being away for five years "finding himself". Which is handy. Lois Lane's now got a kid, and she's living with Cyclops, who isn't too thrilled when her big blue ex shows up to whisk her off her feet, fly her to the moon etc. Kate Bosworth isn't as feisty as Margot Kidder, which is a shame, as you'd expect Lois to be more go-getting in 2006 than 1978.

Brandon Routh looks like they've cloned Christopher Reeve, with some weird dna that makes him come out really smooth, like a waxwork human. He's quite good at the Clark goofiness, and does all the flying stuff pretty well, but he doesn't really seem that bothered by having been on an existential quest for the last five years that didn't really work out.

Kevin Spacey camps it up as Luthor, with Parker Posey lounging in the background with his henchmen, including one whose job seems to involve videotaping everything they're getting up to.

Overall, it's pretty enjoyable, and really works in the imax version I saw - you also get 20 minutes reworked in 3D which is fun - although the flashing 3D glasses that come onto the screen do break things up a bit, and make it seem much more like a ride. Which it is. Could have done a lot more with the "man of feel" stuff that they seemed to be going for, but it's not a flop; more a competent action comic that follows all the blockbuster conventions. Doesn't hit the satisfying intensity of Batman Begins, but it's way better than X3 or the not-very-Fantastic Four.

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5th Jul 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Peeping Tom

Peeping Tom

When you read any review or press release about this album you will get the same line time after time. "This is Mike Patton's long awaited album heralding a return to his mainstream form." Well that may be so, but I am glad I wasn't holding my breath for the past 5 years. You know when you rediscover an album you used to like from your reckless heavy metal days, then while listening to it the nostalgia wears off and you realise why you stopped liking that stuff in the first place - you grew up. Peeping Tom is a similar listening experience. It sounds immature and dated, despite the guest list - which includes such visionaries as Anticon's Dose One and Odd Nosdam, plus hip hop legends Kool Keith and Dan The Automator.

I was a big fan of Faith No More and although my favourite album was "Introduce Yourself," with Chuck Moseley on vocals before Patton took over I am still so disappointed with this offering. If I had to pick some highlights then I would say 'Mojo' is one of the stronger songs although I am so bored of people like Rahzel the human beatbox, making weird sounds with your mouth, big deal, Jones from Police Academy soon killed off that little party trick. The only reason I would pick out 'Sucker' as another highlight is because it features Starbucks very own yawn-tastic Norah Jones saying Mother Fucker. Not really a good reason to like a song I know - but hey, I like Mr. Patton and am clutching at straws here.

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4th Jul 2006 - 9 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Stuart A. Staples

Bush Hall, London

In support of his latest album Leaving Songs, Tindersticks' Stuart A. Staples played this small show in London, as well as a few dates around Europe.

The show started off well, with my current favourite song Old Friends No. 1 setting the pace, before moving onto a healthy chunk of the new album and 2004's solo album Lucky Dog Recordings, such as Marseille Sunshine, Shame On You and Already Gone. Staples was backed by superb drumming, a keyboard, lead guitar (from Tindertsicks) and double bass - and when the band was at full steam they were superb, like rock and roll Mariachi's (check surveillance for a drumming clip).

Although Staples seemed a bit under the weather it seemed more likely to be hayfever or flu, rather than the whiskey. Where early Tindertsicks songs seemed drunk, troubled and biographical, his solo material seems more general and is presumably informed by more current experiences. Like Hal Hartley's lack of good movies since he was married, perhaps the happiness of later life has put the fire out. The raucous days of Whiskey & Water somehow seem likely to have been replaced by a self-imposed night on the study sofa after too much congnac.

Although he was determined to play only his solo stuff (apart from one Townes Van Zandt cover - Sixteen Summers, Fifteen Falls), you could tell that the crowd were hoping for the nostalgia of a few Tindersticks favourites. Where certain bands (e.g. Radiohead) seem to keep moving forward and enlisting new fans, other bands seem to retain the same dwindling set of loyal fans - who just grow old together. Where this can make for a fantastic loyal atmosphere at a concert (e.g. The Wedding Present), in some cases (Fugazi included) it can just mean that the energy has gone from the crowd, leaving a subdued performer - unsure of how things are going. As Staples himself commented "I have no idea if you are enjoying this or not."

Click here for more pictures.

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8th Jun 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Brown Bunny

(dir. Vincent Gallo)

Motorbike racing loner Bud Clay (Vincent Gallo) travels across America for a race in Los Angeles, meeting several girls along the way - all the while looking a replacement for the love that he has lost, haunted by the memory of the last time he saw her.

Prior to seeing this film there were two forces governing my expectations:
1. The awesome trailer, laying Jackson C. Frank's song Milk And Honey over a split screen montage of an empty highway and an accident at a party.

2. The literal barrage of negative press following the screening at Cannes, and mostly regarding the edit of the film and the X-Rated sex scene with Gallo and Chloe Sevigny.

As Buffalo 66 had been so enjoyable I was at the very least intrigued to see what could have gone wrong with this alleged train crash of a movie. Things start of OK, with a slow sequence following Bud Clay as he competes in a race in New Hampshire. The shooting style seems like a mid 70's documentary, using grainy handheld footage. Clay then packs up his bike into his van, but before heading out on the open road he meets a young girl and convinces her to come to California with him. As she runs into her house to pick up a few things, Bud Clay changes his mind and drives away. Cue 20 minutes of Gallo driving. No dialogue. Repeat.

While Gallo is quite effective and watch-able, a lot of the interest is based upon some knowledge of his off screen personality - plus you are always waiting to see if nothing really does happen. The shooting shooting style is nice (and occasionally great), but you can't help but feel it's not quite how it should be. A long shot will focus on Gallo driving, while an out of focus landscape rolls past in the background. Except the foreground will be slightly out of focus too. The DVD was presented in the original aspect ratio of 1.66:1 (leaving black bars on the left and right), but then some shots of the film seemed like they had been spliced back into the film after some some time literally on the cutting room floor... to no apparent effect.

The hype around the movie is mainly due to it's explicit nature, but if Gallo really wanted to improve the film he could have started by chopping that entire scene out, as it really does provide no further exposition or depth to the characters. The scenes following the x-rated scene do make the film somewhat more worthwhile, making the viewer think back over what they have been watching and draw some kind of sense - but the trailer was just as effective as the movie, setting up the tragedy and creating the same emotional impact in a mere two minutes. The poster is great too.

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8th Jun 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Stuart A. Staples

Leaving Songs

Leaving Songs is the second solo album from Tindersticks front man Stuart A. Staples. Where 2005's Lucky Dog Recordings: 2003-2004 was a loose collection of songs written over some time and recorded at Staples' home studio, Leaving Songs is a collection of songs written over the last year and recorded at Mark Nevers' studio in Nashville, with Dave Boulter, Neil Fraser and drummer Thomas Belhom.... followed by a bit more recording back in the UK featuring Tindersticks' stalwart Terry Edwards and longtime collaborator, Gina Foster.

For me, things started to tail off for the Tindersticks with Simple Pleasure. The songs became less urgent and relevant, presumably due to the maturing years and situations of the band. Leaving Songs starts off on a different note, with Staples strong baritone voice accompanied only by an acoustic guitar on Old Friends No. 1. However, as the song progresses one by one another guitar joins in, followed by strings, a hammond organ - and before you know it you are back in the classic Tindersticks territory of a song like Drunk Tank. This is no complaint, in fact this song has everything that for me has been missing in Tindersticks' more recent albums. It seems like a moment from a western, where the apparently heartless gun-for-hire cowboys come back to save the town from bad guys.

The song builds up such a fantastic layered atmosphere, that it sets the bar for the album almost as high as it can be, and unfortunately it is moment that isn't topped. The Path, Which Way The Wind and The Road Is Long are weak, methodical affairs, that have lyrics that are less than revolutionary, mostly seeming to be about moving on, making decisions and so on zzzzzz. The duets on the other hand (with Maria McKee and Lhasa de Sela) sound like they are trying to re-create the good-old-days of songs like Traveling Light, but not quite making the grade.

Things pick up a bit with Already Gone and This Old Town, creating the kind of run-down-seaside-town-crossed-with-a-spaghetti-western atmosphere I'm always looking for. While Old Friends No. 1 is currently nudging at the top for title of "my current favourite song" I'm afraid the album as a whole doesn't come close to Tindersticks at their best.

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6th Jun 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The National

Koko, Camden

"The English are waiting and I don't know what to do." Sings Matt Berninger of The National at Koko last night. This line seemed all too true for the charismatic lead singer who looked visibly stunned and overwhelmed at the rapturous applause that greeted him and his band. While cracking open a bottle of champagne he admitted, "this is the first time we have played to this many people who have just come to see us." I too was quite surprised at the frenzied response to every song and the general hysteria that resided in the hall that night. And it was well deserved.

Opening with the glorious Secret Meeting and just about playing every song they know, as well as a few new ones, this soon evolved into a truly stunning and memorable gig. It's such a treat these days to see a front man with a personality, who is genuinely reacting to the passion and emotion of the songs - rather than assuming an act. On songs such as Daughters Of The Soho Riots, Berninger whispers into the mic as if he was holding his lover, his hands gently yet firmly clasping the neck whilst he pours his heart out as if they were the only two in the room. In between verses and songs he would pace around nervously, biting his nails like a troubled man waiting outside his lovers door, rehearsing the devastating words he is about to utter. After screeching the repeated mantra 'My mind's not right' on Abel, Beringer looked genuinely shaken at the power of his own voice.

As is often the case at great gigs, the crowd is treated to revamped and reworked versions of familiar favourites. The achingly beautiful Wasp Nest smouldered like the cigarette permanently burning between Berninger's clasped fingers, then gradually rose to a mighty crescendo that morphed into the awesome Murder Me Rachel. The highlight of the set, and the moment that brought this gig into four-star territory, was the mighty Mr November. If much of the night saw Berringer straining to keep his emotions under wraps, this was the point where he lost the fight. Clearly feeding off the crowds unified and deafening chant of "I'm the new blue blood, I'm the great white hope," the front man gave it all he had, screaming over and over "I wont fuck us over, I'm Mr. November." Fantastic. And all this while being flanked by two twin hobbits from Lost's Driveshaft.

Click here for more pictures, and here for a review of November 2005's gig at ULU.

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1st Jun 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Keene Brothers

Blues And Boogie Shoes

Billed as 'pure pop magic', The Keene Brothers is a collaboration between GBV's Robert Pollard and one-time Matador alumni Tommy Keene. Although not exactly 'pop,' Blues And Boogie Shoes is far and away the most solid and cohesive of these three new records.

Death Of The Party and Island Of Lost Lucys are classic mid-90's-style Guided By Voices. The album has far fewer of the throw-away tracks of the other two new albums, and Keene's polished guitar work adds a layer of sonic quality and sophistication to Pollard's often rough-and-ready recording style - particularly on instrumental tracks like The Camouflaged Friend.

THe album occasionally treads the line a bit to close to FM radio A.O.R., but Pollard's eclectic lyrics always pull things back from soft-rock meltdown.

This Time Do You Feel It? is a masterpiece, borrowing heavily from Pinball Wizard (perhaps Pollard's most overt tribute to heros The Who). The song is followed by A Blue Shadow, another great Pollard song, which brings the album to a worthy close.

So, as usual, 41 new songs from the over-active mind of Robert Pollard has yielded a number of classic tracks, easily distilled down. In the case of these three albums however, those gems are often unpolished rocks.

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28th May 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

United Sounds of ATP

Camber Sands Holiday Centre, Sussex

Before going to the All Tomorrow's Parties music festival (at Pontin's Holiday Camp) I wasn't sure what to expect - and leaving a few days later I'm still not sure what I made of it all. Staying in a chalet as opposed to a tent had it's obvious benefits, especially as the rain was fairly relentless the entire weekend - making those swimming trunks I packed optimistic at best. But the constant grey skies and rundown look to the place gave it an Apocalypse Now feel - a surrealness not lightened by having to negotiate 'Funland' to get to the bar (my funland). The winner of ATP however, is that it truly is all about the music. Each headlining act allowed to choose their favourite bands to play bill - so the opportunities to discover something new were high.

Day 1
So heading to stage 2 (downstairs) on the Friday and lifted by the news that Guinness was coming in at a reasonable £2.70 a pint, The Magik Markers were a good place to kick things off. I'd read a bit about this Hungarian/American three piece and was definitely loving the fact they only played two songs in their 40 minute set (I preferred track 1) allowing me to catch up with mates, whilst dipping in and out of their (at-times) fairly rocking jam sessions. I was told however, that Dead Meadow upstairs (stage 1 of 2) were awesome, with a particularly excellent drummer -a vital ingredient for any self-respecting rock band. So upstairs we went -happy with the fact you could walk to a fairly good spec in the crowd relatively hassle free. Broken Social Scene were excellent -the surprise package of the weekend. I'd heard the name, but didn't really know their sound - they reminded me a bit of Mercury Rev - how they would allow a euphoric brass section to creep up and get you grinning by the end of each song. Also, it's the sign of a great band when you are thinking 'There's no way they can top that tune' then halfway through the next you've already forgotten the previous one (if you know what I mean). We were also treated to an early glimpse of Friday's curator J. Mascis - with long grey hair, shades and adidas shell suit. The man is a hero. He came out for a bit of a guitar duel with Broken Social Scene. Odds were stacked heavily against BSS though, as J's guitar sounded like it was turned up to 14, drowning out allcomers. Still, that whetted the appetite for Dinosaur Jr. later. Next up, indie stalwarts Teenage Fanclub. Although they opened up with personal favourite 'Mudhoney' I thought I'd go and check out The Brian Jonestown Massacre instead. Shouldn't have bothered. I liked their music in Dig!, but they were a bit boring really. I guess I was as guilty as many others, down there for the 'Car Crash' effect - waiting to see if Anton Newcombe was going to crack and kick anyone in the head (he didn't). I was told that Teenage Fanclub were great though - fair play to those lads.

A drum kit flanked by 10 Marshall Stacks; Dinosaur Jr made their intentions clear from the off. They were extremely loud, but equally awesome. What happened to Lou Barlow? From nerdy Sebadoh boy, to some sort of pumped up uber-bassist - he easily promoted himself to Lead Bass in my fantasy super group. A fairly healthy split between Lou's and J's songs - with all the 'hits' in there, they are certainly a band I'd make every effort to see whenever they are in town. A blinding set to round off day one.

Day 2
The day started with a hair of the dog in the pub at twelve and ended 17 hours later being kicked out of the ATP disco. As a result, my memories of Saturday's bands are sketchy at best. The Fiery Furnaces were pretty good. Spoon reminded me of Wilco, but didn't really do enough to lift me out of my stuper. Main act Sleater Kinney were really good though (I think). They certainly rocked the house, with some powerful drumming being a prominent recollection. Worth checking out more of their stuff to plug those holes. Highlight of the day though has to be R Kelly's bizarre Hip-Hopera 'Trapped in the Closet' - showing on the ATP TV Channel (each headliner also gets to create a days schedule of TV). A 40 minute epic with R. Kelly lending his golden tones to the story of various dudes getting caught with each other's girlfriends and threatening to blow everyone away and shit. Was it for real? Who knows - but he did rhyme Bridget with Midget (the midget in question, was uncovered hiding in a cupboard by a policeman returning home early to his wife - bizarre indeed, but try and check it out).

Day 3
With the rain still coming down and the hangover a large one Sunday was always going to be about re-grouping. So, finding a spot on the back wall to nurse some beers was the order of the day (although this is obviously much more pleasant on a sunny last day of an outdoors festival, as opposed to an airtight bingo hall after a three day rock festival). To be fair to the bands, it was going to take something special to rouse me from that position. Aussie band The Drones had a good stab with their better than average pub-rock. The Decemberists were clearly a crowd favourite, reminding me a bit The Levellers, Placebo and the Polyphonic Spree - but not at all as bad as that sounds. They did manage to get the whole crowd to sit down for a quiet number (no problems for me) then getting them back up for a rousing finale. The lead singer of 70's style rock Dungen also played a flute. Then the highlight of the weekend, The Black Keys. Two songs in and I was up off my ass and into the crowd. The drum and guitar two piece played heavy blues and once again made me wonder what all the fuss is with the White Stripes. Following them was going to be extremely tough and so it proved for biggest disappointments The Shins. The band I was most looking forward to seeing, as I'm a great fan of both their albums, were let down by a number of circumstances. Following Black Keys, early sound troubles, being shy and too quiet. They almost lifted it a couple of times but not enough. Maybe I hit a wall, but I never thought I'd be walking out of The Shins early. That was that - some serious drinking and some damn fine bands. The music-first policy is clearly a winner, could do with a bit of sunshine though.

Probably worth a 4, but the rain and my own laziness in not checking out other bands knocks it down a half.

Top 5
1. The Black Keys
2. Dinosaur Jr.
3. Broken Social Scene
4. R. Kelley
5. The Chappelle Show

Bottom 5
1. Rain
2. Hangover
3. Eating too many crisps
4. The smell of the main room Sunday night
5. The disappointing Shins.

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26th May 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The Broken Family Band

Cold Water Songs

I only recently discovered this band with their latest release Balls so am now working my way back through their discography. I have arrived at this 2003 release to find the standard still high. From the outset it pours water on my theory that a lot of modern rock’s lyrics wouldn’t stand up once the music is removed. On ‘(I Don't Have The Time To) Mess Around’ we get the classic line, “There’s a dog sleeping in my bed, if I tickle his balls he gives me sweet head.” Genius. This album has all the trademarks of their subsequent works, self-loathing and relationships that have ended on less than amorous terms. The stand out track would be the beautiful ‘Devil In The Details.’ The hatred in this album is more down played than the others and this song embodies that, presenting such a sad disappointment one feels when discovering the deep-rooted faults of someone you used to love. The majority of the album is very much in the country vein and is generally more sedate than their more recent releases, except for the raucous ‘Don’t Leave That Woman Unattended’ which explains just why this guy gets himself into so many disastrous relationships.

This is a very consistent bunch making good quality music spanning many genres (well, two) and I intend to work my way through the lot.

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22nd May 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Radiohead

Hammersmith Apollo, London

OK, what you are about to read is a totally 100% biased, one-sided opinion masquerading as fact but I don't care. This was a perfect gig. All morning I have tried my hardest to pick holes in it and find some kind of fault but I'm afraid I concede, simply perfect. Whenever people ask me what was the best gig you have ever been to I get nervous because I feel my answer should be some seminal moment in music history, like "Sex Pistols at St. Martins" or the "Stone Roses at Spike Island", when all that really ever came to mind was "MC Hammer, Wembley Arena supported by the mighty Snap". But now I have an answer to be proud of.

I suppose the only slightly less-than-perfect point was that they opened with a new song Videotape that Thom Yorke plays on the piano so no one can actually see him until the second song. But that was National Anthem and the show was under way. This was followed by 2+2=5 which is when the crowd really found their legs or lost them depending on where you were standing. I had heard that this tour was going to be an opportunity for the band to air some new songs and some of the lesser played ones. This was true but they still managed to treat us to such classics as Karma Police. This is what I would refer to as 'A Platoon Moment' where I assume a Willam Defoe, hands-in-the-air-euphoric stance only this time not being gunned down by the Viet Cong. This pose was invented for this band and for this moment. It was nothing less than spectacular.

Three of the most impressive moments were the opening tracks to 3 of their best albums. Everything In It's Right Place, Airbag and best of all Planet Telex. Here the band arranged a supped up version of such magnitude that it was almost unrecognisable and sounded like something off Kid A or Amnesiac. The set list didn't seem to be set in stone either and after repeated crowd requests for OK Computer's epic Let Down they finally obliged. Maybe it isn't a song that is often played as half way through the second verse Thom seemed to forget the words and backed away from the mic looking confused. The crowd soon came to his aid and rose with a crescendo of straining voices bringing a grateful smile to the front man. What was also very evident is that we are in for a treat judging by some of the new stuff that was played. Arpeggi being a particular highlight, a slow building number that evolves into a power house finale making full use of Ed O'Brien's impressive backing vocals which are fast becoming Radiohead's secret weapon.

So two encores later and a string of classics having delighted and exhausted the worshipping crowd we are eased down from the clouds gently with Everything In It's Right Place, which saw Yorke come to the front of the crowd and dance along with us with a big smile on his face. I will end this review by apologising again for my rather over emotional sentiments but I am not of sound mind. If you want an over technical and slightly cynical opinion go read Pitchfork but as for me, if I was Sam Becket from Quantum Leap, I could definitely 'leap' now.

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19th May 2006 - 6 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The View

The View E.P.

Following in the footsteps of several recent cheeky scallies comes this EP from Dundee band The View. Comin' Down is a raucous rock n' roll song, along the lines of early Who, or Touch Me by The Doors... Face For The Radio is a nice acoustic number, and there's definitely lots of promise in these guys - with an easy going attitude and seemingly casual sound.

They just signed to to James Endecott's 1965 Records, so are currently holed up in a studio with the producer of the first Oasis record - Owen Morris. And they're playing at Brixton favourite The Windmill on June 3rd.

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15th May 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Morrissey

London Palladium

Due in part to my near death experience during the last Morrissey gig at Alexandra Palace two weeks ago I felt a bit cheated and wanted to see him properly in a smaller, more intimate and civilised environment. The Palladium fits this description perfectly and was a specific request by the man himself as a venue to perform the last 3 shows of his tour.

It all started off so well. Our seats were in the Royal Circle and we had a perfect view. As is customary on this tour a version of You'll Never Walk Alone is played at top volume to signal the imminent start to the proceedings. Hands were already in the air and I could barely contain my excitement. As expected, the reception was rapturous and the show kicked off in style. A few songs later came the riff heavy How Soon Is Now, which was greeted with utter delight and simply rocked. Morrissey seemed to be really enjoying himself - indulging in plenty of banter about how Radio 1 refuse to play his single and that The Palladium felt like home to him as he played here 20 years ago. However, it soon became evident that he was experiencing some difficulty with his earpiece and started to not finish songs, saying how terrible the sound was - despite us telling him it sounded fine. At one point he even asked the crowd "please someone, say something encouraging." The sound problems really seemed to be rocking his confidence and it soon appeared like he was just going through the motions and wanted to get off the stage as soon as possible. As a result he decided not to come back on for the encore and the disgruntled crowd booed as they left the venue.

Despite the great start and an excitement that is rarely found at live performances I left with a deep feeling of disappointment. The sound problems were clearly not his fault and were a cause of some distress to him but I would have thought a performer of his magnitude and experience could overcome this and not give the audience the impression that he was bored and we weren't doing enough to entertain him. After what I thought was a fantastic version of Life Is A Pigsty he asked us why we were clapping. I thought the sound was fine. Vocals are often an element that can get lost at rock gigs but his voice is always so clear and this was no exception. The crowd's excitement was killed by the obvious look of frustration and anguish coming from the man we had paid a lot of money to see. I guess he can just chalk it up as a bad day at work, but for the two fans I spoke to in the pub afterwards who had paid £190 per ticket it was a disaster. I haven't given it a rock bottom rating as the first 45 minutes were awesome and the venue was fantastic. I also have a new favourite track; Ganglord. This B-side to the new single is a classic in waiting.

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15th May 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Buck 65

Secret House Against The World

Buck 65 could read a shopping list or even my last rights and I would love it, so I guess I am not the best person to write a review of his music. I think this is his eleventh album (I lost count ages ago) and it sees a real departure from the previous works. He is known for his hobo like musings about life, love, shoe-shine and just about anything -and all this over self-crafted beats and soundscapes. But here we see a new musical injection that at first jars, as it is not what we expect from Buck, but then we realise that the very thing we love about this guy is his freedom from any genre, collective or type and we are right back loving him again.

There are some sublime moments of real beauty here and most of them come with the new inclusion of a female voice that sits so pretty next to the Waits style growl of Buck. We first see this new combo on ‘The Suffering Machine, ‘ a gentle, acoustic led song full of heart wrenching sadness about a lost soul ambling aimlessly from place to place with no friends and waiting for the “Black angel,” to carry him down. On his web site, Buck reviews his own albums. He says that this album has what was missing all along and that is melody, female voice and lushness Well this song has all of that. I never thought a hip hop song could bring tears to my eyes but The Floor does just that. You listen with open mouth as he tells the story of his abusive father coming home and throwing "the goldfish to the cat on the kitchen floor" while his beaten and down trodden mother just smiled "the saddest smile I’ve ever seen in my life."

Buck has grown up with this album. It is about serious stuff and though it has all the profound musings that we have come to expect, the musical composition adds weight to the words and it’s truly moving. Buck gives it three out of five on his site but I will see that and raise it.

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12th May 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Sunset Rubdown

Shut Up I Am Dreaming

Jagjaguwar

Whoever said the best music is being made in Canada is such a bore. We have all known that for ages, and here is some more evidence. Sunset Rubdown is a spin off group, fronted by Wolf Parade’s keyboardist and vocalist Spencer Krug and it's a little gem of an album. Krug’s distinctive voice makes this very comparable to Wolf Parade, but it’s a much more low-fi and immediate affair. Having said this the band manages to create such epic masterpieces out of next to nothing. Sparse, stripped down songs like Us Ones In Between plod along with such delicate beauty, and the contrast of seemingly cheapskate instruments overlaid with some of the most profoundly sad and insightful lyrics I have heard in a long time is powerful to say the least. Creatures great and small are a common theme on this album, lyrics like “I have heard of creatures who eat their babies/I wonder if they stop to think about the taste” are then reversed to say “Oh baby mother me before you eat me.” The Empty Threats Of Little Lord is another gem that echoes this sentiment, where “If I ever hurt you it will be in self-defence,” and “If you ever come at me I’ll hurt you,” are seen in a different more pathetic light when considering the songs title. Again, they follow such a delicate structure that it almost threatens to collapse under its own frail melancholy.

The lyrics to each song could be read as a book of poems and would still retain their impact and profundity when removed from the music. They create an almost dream like landscape of wild creatures and lovers that live forever. On the epic seven minute long The Men Are Called Horsemen, Krug structures the whole song around the horse metaphor stating “If I was a horse I’d have bricks in my mane, If I was a horse I’d throw up the reins." But then continues on to claim “But I am no horse and you are no angel.” Another seven-minute masterpiece brings this unexpected delight to a close with the title track Shut Up I’m Dreaming, which is what I would advise you tell people if they talk over this album. It is worth dedicating time to this.

Recently, I saw a poll of the best lyrics in modern pop music. I think the winner was a Morrissey lyric, and it got me thinking about the content of a lot of the songs that structure my life. To my surprise I found that though they were songs of undeniable genius, very few of the lyrics really stood up to scrutiny once taken away from the music. This isn’t always necessary but it’s great when you come across some that do. I strongly recommend looking these songs up and reading them as poetry, you won’t be sorry.

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10th May 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Archie Bronson Outfit

Derdang, Derdang

These days a record label is not complete until it has a David Byrne inspired vocalist on their books. Rough Trade got theirs with The Arcade Fire, Wichita with Clap Your Hands Say Yeah and now Domino have found theirs. Hailing from the West Country, Archie Bronson Outfit are not something you would want to listen to if you were of a nervous disposition, or in the least bit on edge. This is not a criticism, it’s just a pretty stressful experience listening to Derdang Derdang, the groups second album. They have managed to create a real sense of urgency that except for the final track is pretty much unrelenting. The whole album can be summed up in the stand out track Dart For My Sweetheart. On the whole, I frown upon songs that use counting, or days of the week as their structure - but this one is an exception. It starts “One is a gun with a dart for my sweetheart,” and continues up to twelve. All this over methodical, driving and jangling guitar and drums. Arp, the drummer and lyricist says, “There’s a nursery rhyme feel to the lyric, the counting stuff.” His kids ain't getting no sleep tonight.

The band claim this album was written and recorded in a very short space of time while they were all living together - and this comes as no surprise to me. It has a captivating sense of immediacy and the ever building tempo in each song threatens an approaching explosion, but rarely gives in. The tension comes from a combination of repetitive guitar rhythms, screeching free jazz saxophone and distinctive, paranoia filled vocals - delivered with such energy and force you have to either switch off or sit up and take notice. On Dead Funny he orders us, “don’t worry just get your head down.” Sound advice I think.

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10th May 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Raconteurs

Broken Boy Soldiers

Broken Boy Soldiers sees Jack White team up with fellow Detroit buddy Brendan Benson and finally get a chance to play with the boys. And don’t those boys have some fun. Following typical ‘side project’ form, the agenda is a lot lighter here compared to the Led Zeppelin’s lofty direction. Level is another highlight with suitably grimy and screeching guitar action.

As you may notice, all the highlights picked out above feature White on lead vocals. I feel the album loses its immediacy when Brendan Benson steps up. His songs follow a well-trodden Beatles/Harrison path and lack the grit that White brings to the mix. When these two vocalists are put side by side it is all too evident how unique and powerful White’s voice really is. The best Benson songs are when Jack is backing him up. Intimate Secretary, is a prime example of this. The jury is out on this track as it has very questionable lyrics. “I’ve got a rabbit who likes to hop, I’ve got a girl who likes to shop, I’ve got a pen but I lost the top,’ You could be forgiven for mistaking this for an extract from Wayne Rooney’s secret diary ...although he’s the one doing the hopping now.

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4th May 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Red Hot Chili Peppers

Stadium Arcadium

While Blood Sugar Sex Magic had some (I'd say 3) great songs, it's funky-monk overtones make it sound dated, recorded as John Frusciante say's "back when we were assholes". The Dave Navarro version of the band obviously sucked, but after Frusciante kicked his drug habit and crawled back to the Red Hot Chili Peppers things really started to take off. Californication had some great tracks, but was quickly overshadowed by version 2.0 - By The Way. Frusciante had found his sound, releasing the awesome solo albums To Record Only Water For Ten Days and Shadows Collide With People and clearly shaping the direction of the revitalised Chili Peppers. After another 6(!) solo albums from Frusciante last year - all peppered with great tracks - the promise of a new full-spec double RHCP album was good.

Things kick off well with single Dani California. Using all the best elements of the RHCP signature sound - catchy, stripped down, funky bass, roaring guitar solo - it sets the pace.... and the rest of the album carries on from there. All the same. Every song is good, most contain a bit of all of their styles and all are in the 3-5 minutes / 3.5-4.5 star range - and that is where the problem lies. While the album is apparently 'based' on the planets (Disc 1 Jupiter, Disc 2 Mars) there is no obvious theme or progression over the album and not much difference between the two discs. It becomes totally homogenized and just seems like a collection of 28 randomly sequenced good songs.

Torture Me is not one of the best, but it stands out for merely being a bit more punky. Strip My Mind threatens to be like a Frusciante solo track - but ends up being not as brave and falling back into line. Even the bass-funk workout tracks pull their socks up to be not nearly as bad as some of the 90's era stuff. The excellent Desecretion Smile and Animal Bar have so far floated to the top of the pile, although I'm sure more will grow on me if I give it time. 28 tracks is a lot of time though, and in the age of CD a double album is more like 120 minutes than The White Album's 90. The lyrics also take the score down a notch, as the band have never been that deep, and that doesn't change here. There's plenty of lyrics of the horny-coyotes-prowling-around-michigan variety.

Time will tell whether this becomes a sprawling masterpiece or self-indulgant monolith, but for a band who should have been at the peak of their powers it currently seems that they are on more of a plateau.

UPDATE: As of August 9th '06 I'm updating this to a 4. It's 80% genius, and the finale of Snow (Hey Oh) and Frusciante's scream at the end of Wet Sand are worth the price alone. It's only losing points for the length and lack of sequence, but is undoubtedly the closest thing to their masterpiece (to date).

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4th May 2006 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Morrissey

Alexandra Palace, London

I think I could see Morrissey live every time he is in town, it is such an experience. Musically it is impeccable, but half the enjoyment comes from watching the type of fans he attracts and the effect he has on them. His music has the ability to reduce hardened middle-aged men to the mushy, teary-eyed romantics and it is fascinating to watch. Queuing up outside Alexandra Palace last night you’d be hard pushed to guess the band we were all waiting to see. It was a veritable melting pot of misfits, mods, Goths, England fans, dweebs, dickheads and righteous dudes. Beer guts were proudly displayed and back pockets adorned with wilting daffodils (Gladiola’s obviously not in season just yet), a sight to behold indeed.

After waiting at the front of the massing crowd through two support acts (one being Domino’s Sons And Daughters which were very good), the time had arrived and the lights dimmed. Amid deafening “Morrissey!” chants that would put the crowd at Stamford Bridge to shame the excitement was awesome. On walks the man himself and with the words “For what you are about to receive I am truly sorry.” The band explode with The First Of The Gang To Die. This was particularly ironic as my girlfriend very nearly was. The crowd erupted and surged back and forward with such pressure from the back and sides we struggled to keep our feet. So after waiting at the front for 3 hours it took less than 1 song for us to be at the back of the hall.

But without fearing for your life you are able to appreciate the show a bit more. And what a show it was. The man is notoriously private and sedate for the press, so it really feels like a privilege and an honour to see him so animated and vocal when in front of his fans. As usual the set list was mainly comprised of his new material but he did treat us to Girlfriend In A Coma and the show highlight How Soon Is Now? The super-extended rendition of this Smiths classic was greeted with absolute euphoria and a sea of worshipping hands in the air, stuff to make your spine tingle. The other highlight was Life Is A Pigsty which, in my opinion, is the best track off the new album. It was also interesting to notice how the songs off 2004’s You Are The Quarry, especially the encore of Irish Blood English Heart, are treated by the fans as classic Morrissey now.

The combination of such a legendary personality and a truly fantastic backing band (who strangely resembled Jonathan Ross’ ‘Four Poofs And A Piano’) made this performance truly live up to one of Morrissey’s opening statements “Welcome to the lost art of live music.” I can’t give it a perfect score because my girlfriend nearly died.

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2nd May 2006 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Pearl Jam

London Astoria

As one of the last gigs on my list of all-time favourite bands, having not seen these guys had always nagged at me. I had been too poor as a student, out of the country for one tour and then after the death of some fans at the Roskilde festival in 2000, Europe had been off rotation for the last couple of Pearl Jam world tours. I was resigned to eventually seeing the band at the enormo-arena-dome some time past their peak - and convincing myself that I wasn't disappointed.

Recently, things started to look up. A well invested fan club membership led to a great 7 inch single, but the golden ticket was a heads-up on this one-off warm up show at London's Astoria. Chimp Jnr managed to snag the tickets, which sold out in 1 minute and ended up going for £450 on eBay. It crossed our minds to cash them in and fly out to Seattle, but even there a 20,000 seat Arena could not offer the same opportunity as a 1600 seat venue on home turf.

The gig had a quick turnaround and before we knew it we were queuing down the side of the Astoria, round Soho Square and back onto Oxford Street. Some of the eBay tickets had apparently been confiscated, so some persistent fans did get a chance to get last minute surprise re-sale tickets on the door. The touts dropped their tickets to £250, while security guards checked the ticket numbers as some fakes had been circulated.

The atmosphere in the queue and inside the venue was electric. It obviously wasn't just us that had been holding out to see them, and when the band came out the place went crazy. A quick acknowledgment that it had been a long time set the scene, and then we're off with new single World Wide Suicide. As noted, this is a bad title, but as a song it was a great start - thundering, off new album Pearl Jam, but still one that the fans could get into. That was followed by Life Wasted and Severed Hand from the new album, which subdued the crowd slightly as they are still relatively unknown.... Two more new songs followed, but these were current b-side Unemployable and Christmas b-side Gone, which is already one of my current favourites. So things were picking up, and then they really took off with Even Flow.

From then on things only got better and better. The band pulled highlights and rarities from their 15 year back catalogue, such as Sad, I Am Mine, Leavin' Here and Given To Fly mixed in with a couple of the new tracks. There was a healthy dose of revived songs from black-sheep album Ten (which out sold Nevermind for you haters out there) including an awesome ramped up version of Why Go? The Indie Goth Revival is over, long live Grunge.

The highlight had to be an impromptu sing along to Betterman, where Eddie Vedder literally hardly sang a word. The entire crowd took over in a spine tingling moment, reminiscent of Black on the Benaroya Hall album. Visibly moved by the crowd response, the band came back for two encores until finally the end had come, as Mike McCready plucked the opening notes of traditional set-closer Yellow Ledbetter. Everyone sang along and the band even dropped in a few notes of Nobody's Fault But Mine as a nod to Robert Plant, who was in the crowd with his son. After a bow the band started to leave the stage, before the overwhelming reaction from the audience genuinely changed their minds. Eddie Vedder called them back for one more... a storming rendition of Alive. As one of their only UK hits, this is often how they are perceived by those who know little of their later work. It was an unashamedly 90's moment, and I realised that after 15 years of progressing onwards they are now looking as much like the grunger's of the early 90's as ever.... and I love it.

All in all it couldn't have been a much more satisfactory conclusion to my quest.... although thanks to a man on the inside we are off to see them taping Later with Jools Holland tonight.

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25th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Pearl Jam

Pearl Jam

Pearl Jam have a knack of sounding like a muscle car cruising down an empty road in Montana. Masters of the key/pace change, they often shift up and down gears, speeding up and slowing down but always sticking to the road.

While Life Wasted and World Wide Suicide are great openers (except for the title "World Wide Suicide" - definitely a case for 'keep the title out of the lyrics') rocking all the shift change tricks, it's not until six songs in that we get a real change of style - with Parachutes. Similar in tone to the Stones' track of the same name, this great little number is much more in the vein of 1996's No Code.

Things get more more varied on what would have been side two in the vinyl days, with Gone being the gem on the album. It's Pearl Jam at their best, using a simple quiet start to build up the emotion and sound into an awesome wall of noise.

Army Reserve is one song that doesn't quite click, somehow sounding like the U2-style jangling guitar was written separately from the lyrics, but the album finishes with two excellent tracks. Come Home sounds like a cover of a lost classic by Smokey Robinson or Otis Redding and is the band at their best. Inside Job, written by guitarist Mike McCready, is a moody slow burner. Staying just the right side of Dire Straits, the song would fit well on a movie soundtrack and brings the album to a worthy close.

The album is definitely a democratic effort and the input of the entire band leans the sound down the more conventional end of the Pearl Jam spectrum - generally sounding more like Yield or Riot Act than Vitalogy or No Code. That's never a criticism with these guys however and although not as lyrical as some of their work it's a solid, thoroughly enjoyable rock album from a band totally assured of their craft.

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25th Apr 2006 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Spank Rock

Yoyoyoyoyo

I am all about Baltimore at the moment. Granted I am three seasons late, but The Wire is rocking my world and so is this album. Baltimore’s Spank Rock are the new signing to Big Dada and they have gone and made the most exciting hip hop I have heard since the last Anticon offering. Unlike the Anticon posse it doesn’t take itself seriously at all. It sounds like a cross between Tag Team’s ‘Woop there it is’ Antipop Consortium and a fair dose of 2 Live Crew. It’s low down and it’s dirty.

MC Spank Rock’s chief concerns here range from the contents of a woman’s biker shorts to his less than admirable intentions as to what to do with said contents once he has acquired them. Song titles like 'Back Yard Betty','Coke & Wet' and 'Screwville, USA' tell the whole story yet despite this it is a very intelligent piece of work with amazing production. It is very tongue-in-cheek (which cheek? I hear you ask, and you would be right to) but not in a gimmicky Darkness way, more in a Licence to Ill kind of way.

To put it bluntly it’s just really good fun and the beats alone will get you stripper dancing in no time. So lets all repeat after me “Tap dat ass, c’mon Tap dat ass.”

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24th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

This album took a few plays to really get it but then it just seemed to click and I went from finding it slightly annoying to thinking it was the greatest thing I had heard for ages. And it is. Granted it starts off bad but the second song gets the greatness well under way. A lot of bands have emerged recently that quote Talking Heads as their main influence but none sound as similar as this one, yet despite that it is one of the most original records to grace my eager ears. Details Of The War was a stand out track from the start. As is quite common throughout the album the song construction is the interesting thing with its lack of any verse/chorus/verse structure and the lazy ‘I really can’t be bothered’ vocals building up slowly on a rolling bass line to a fantastic peak. The Skin Of My Yellow Country Teeth follows on nicely. It has a certain nostalgic sound to it with a very New Order bass line and towards the end it threatens to disappear off into a mammoth Wedding Present style guitar solo but sadly not many bands have the balls for this.

I really could go on to talk about each track as there is something to note about every one but I may as well skip to the last one as it simply rules. Upon This Tidal Wave Of Young Blood is an awesome piece of work. It starts off with a guitar strumming pace that will get every head nodding and foot tapping in audible range. Alec Ounsworth’s vocals glide in with expert ease and we are off. The pace stays the same to the very end as the vocals trail off into what should be a very grating repetition of “child stars, child stars, child stars…” This song sounds like it could go on at this pace for another 15 minutes at least and really it should but instead it stops abruptly as if your mum has come into the room and can’t stand any more of this guys voice and pulls the plug.

And really that is what we should all be doing but we aren’t. We love it despite our brains yelling how annoying it should be. This band has received so much word-of-mouth hype and for once it is all well placed. Clap your hands and say fuck yeah. (sorry for the cuss word but I feel it was necessary..)

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24th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Loose Fur

Born Again In The USA

As one gets older we notice things about our personalities that we either like or dislike and as much as we tried to fight them when we were younger we soon give up and learn to accept them. We even start to warm to some traits and see them as important threads in the marvellous tapestry that is us, despite the fact that they annoy the hell out of people around us and sometimes land us in jail. Recently I have discovered one of these facts about my personality and in the words of the Dude “Some new shit has come to light.” I have discovered that I have the worrying ability to become so totally obsessed and consumed by something that all logic and sense leave me when it enters my thought. About a month ago the subject of my obsessions became anything Wilco/Tweedy. It seems like we have waited far too long for new Wilco material and I just couldn’t take it. So I would spend hours, days combing the internet for anything Jeff Tweedy had ever put his hand to, any collaboration, any live morsel even if it was recorded from the toilets.

So you can imagine my delight when Loose Fur’s second album landed. Finally something legitimate and legal to quench my insatiable thirst. Like any addiction quality rarely comes into it, so it took me a while to ask myself if this album was any good. And it is, though not reaching the dizzy heights of pure genius that Wilco reside in. It goes without saying that my favourite moments are when Jeff is on point but on the whole this is a solid piece of work with just the right mix of straight up rock, melody subtlety and experimentation. It seems like less of a side project for the boys ( Jeff Tweedy, Jim O’Rourke and Glenn Kotche) and yet still manages to sound like three musicians enjoying a day off. This is seen quite clearly in The Ruling Class, a jaunty little number about Jesus shooting crack. Further on there’s a great instrumental song An Ecumenical Matter which really shows off the compositional skill of this dream team. And the album finishes with 2 songs worthy of any Wilco B side. Wreckroom with its fantastic guitar solo’s reminiscent of the jaw dropping opener on Wilco’s A Ghost Is Born and the slightly Sesame Street sounding finale of Wanted.

This album will certainly keep me satisfied until the next Wilco offering and maybe if I stay away from him long enough Jeff and his layers might just lift this damn restraining order.

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11th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Britt Daniel & Bright Eyes

Home: Volume IV

The teaming up of various artistic greats is not always a recipe for success, as Real Madrid found in this seasons Champions League and James Lavelle and DJ Shadow found on Psyence Fiction. But on this 4 song EP from Spoon frontman Britt Daniel and Bright Eyes the collaboration works to great effect. They complement each other very well. Oberst lends his trademark intensity and passion to the mix and although I am a huge fan of anything by Bright Eyes, Daniel manages to amp up what can sometimes be quite a whimpering and whining sound with some bass heavy Spoon magic. As a result the Britt tracks are the stand out moments with ‘You Get Yours’ being better than most Spoon songs. This sounds all the better with Conor’s backing vocals being shrieked from the back of the recording studio. A great piece of work that more than moistens the appetite for future collaborations. If only they could find room for Jeff Tweedy.

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11th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Spoon

Gimme Fiction

I always imagine ten-pin bowling competitions to be really boring. They basically wait for their opponent to slip up slightly and not get a strike. If Spoon was your opponent you just know that they aren’t going to slip up any time soon judging by their last five bowls and you’re in for a long night. They are such a solid band. Even if you search their back catalogue for a sign of weakness expecting to find a Pablo Honey, you wont. Their style has changed over the years but they make consistently good albums. Gimme Fiction, their fifth full-length album, is yet another strike from Britt Daniel and the boys from Texas.

I think what makes it so refreshingly different from all the other bands we hear today is its musical composition. It’s nothing too experimental but the emphasis is on rhythm and bass rather than lead guitar. The drums run the show coming in heavy and loud and do so much more than merely provide a backbone for a song. Britt’s vocals fit in perfectly with this rhythm, he seems so into this beat often dropping in the odd ‘yeah, alright’ in between versus.

Standout tracks include Mathematical Mind, a fantastic song that rolls along on a piano bass line and slowly builds to a cacophony of drums and symbols, with Britt’s guitar stuttering awkwardly over the top, stabbing erratically. This track was great live as Britt would stagger over to the corner of the stage in his own world hammering furiously at his strings like Richie Cunningham possessed by John Coltrane. Another highlight is I Summon You, one of the more regular acoustic based songs - but again accompanied by some great drumming. What I wouldn’t give to be on a camping trip with Mr Daniel, sat round the fire, bellies full of some grilled wild animal, a couple of brewski’s in hand and Britt reaching over for his well travelled beat up old acoustic guitar, “D’ya know this one?” he asks as I slowly drift off to sleep to the hypnotic strumming of I Summon You. Perfect.

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10th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Show Your Bones

Wichita

This wasn’t an album I was anticipating with baited breath, but it has slowly made its way to the top of my recent purchases pile.

Show Your Bones is the follow up to 2003’s critically acclaimed debut Fever To Tell which never seems to impress me as much as it does everyone else. It's a bit like the album equivalent of Reservoir Dogs. While I consider it a fantastic piece of art and have the utmost respect for it, it’s not something I am likely to stick on over lunch. There is only so much pummelling I can take and Show Your Bones has impressed me for this very reason (the Tarantino comparison stops here, Show Your Bones is no Pulp Fiction) It has retained the grit and muscle of its predecessor but seems to give a gracious and subtle nod towards commercialism. It is more rhythmical, more melodic and just more appealing.

This is evident from the opening track Gold Lion, with its acoustic strumming being slowly obliterated by the inevitable wave of dirty guitar. Way Out follows a similar pattern and Fancy finds us in more YYY familiar territory with the Karen O’s trademark growl/banshee wail scratching its grubby nails down the wall of guitar and percussion. But the stand out track has got to be Warrior. It starts like a song you might stumble across on some far off obscure stage at an alt folk festival but soon picks up its feet and starts running with the line “this road’s gonna end on me.’ I’m sure it will at some point, but on this evidence there seems to be a lot more road ahead.

This album smacks of a follow up that will make die hard YYY fans scoff at people like me for preferring it but as Brakes say in Heard About Your Band, “You shared a cab with Karen O, OO,OOO,” roughly translated means ‘I don’t give a shit.’

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5th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Wilco

A Ghost Is Born

The other day during a particularly busy period at work I embarked on a ‘best of Wilco’ playlist and found that every track bar one off their most recent offering had to feature. Except for the 15 minutes of amp hummmmm on track 11 this is a perfect album. The reader may have just taken a sharp intake of breath at that controversial word ‘perfect’ that I just threw in there but I don’t care, I stand by that word.

When I first encountered Wilco they were way out in front on the ever-expanding alt-country scene and were making simple yet great songs. This style seemed to be changing with the release of 2002’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and now with A Ghost Is Born Jeff Tweedy has taken his band into the realms of experimental rock genius. Largely due to the production, courtesy of the mighty Jim O’Rourke, this record sees Wilco turn a very important and difficult corner. From the outset you can see that the agenda has changed here. At Least That’s What You Said is one of the greatest and bravest ways to open an album, it’s soft bitter-sweet vocal intro turns in to 4 minute crunching guitar solo that leaves you breathless and exhausted and the album has only just begun. And if, during Hell Is Chrome, you found yourself relaxing into comfortable Wilco territory Spiders(Kidsmoke) soon jolts you to your feet throwing the alt-country rule book so far out the window you wonder if they ever read it, let alone wrote it. Clocking in at over 10 minutes and with a fantastic electronic beat for a backbone this song sounds more like early Roxy Music than our beloved Wilco with its occasional vocals and screeching, stabbing and totally freeform guitar solos. Then you’ve got Muzzle of Bees, Hummingbird, Handshake Drugs, the list goes on and on and the standard set in the first track is upheld right up to the very last note.

This is the album that convinced me to call my first born child Wilco, boy or girl. I’m just glad I’m not obsessed with ‘Pink Martini.’

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5th Apr 2006 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Why?

Elephant Eyelash

I wanted to review this album for a few reasons. Firstly because it’s a great album and secondly because I feel the hallowed halls of Chimp Towers needs to reprezent for the underground hip-hop.

Why?, aka Yoni Wolf is one third of the genius that was cLOUDDEAD and has put his skills to many fine releases from the ever-changing and ever-ground breaking Anticon label. Elephant Eyelash seems to have a coherency and focus that has sometimes been missing from a lot of Wolf’s many endeavours. He is a lyricist like no other who delivers playful yet dark sing/speak vocals with an awe inspiring attention to every syllable. It is a strangely uplifting experience which leaves you wondering why you were just joyously singing along to lines like “Unfold an origami death mask/ And cut my DNA with rubber traits/ Pull apart the double helix like a wishbone/ Always be working on a suicide note.”

Anything by this artist is challenging but so worth your time. This album and countless other on this label offers a rare musical experience, a chance to listen and appreciate music that is indefinable and carries with it no genre baggage. My iTunes says ‘Folk’ but I say Why? Stand out tracks include Sanddollars, Rubber Traits, Fall Saddles and Gemini (Birthday Song)

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5th Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Shakti

Colston Hall - Bristol

It's not every day that a band containing Miles Davis' former guitarist treats you to the first ever public performance of a piece that was written that very afternoon. But this is exactly what happened at the stunning Shakti concert in Bristol's Colston Hall on Saturday night. The first half of the show consisted of several old favourites, all executed with the usual baffling precision and togetherness, but we got the new song shortly after the interval. (I like concerts with intervals. Why can't all acts do this?) While John McLaughlin smiled on in his usual benign way, Zakir Hussain - surely the world's greatest percussionist - introduced the piece, which he called something like 'John_@uk.com'. (For all their endless brilliance, Shakti have never been too good at coming up with titles. Still, it's a bit snappier than the old classic 'What Need Have I for This, What Need Have I For That, I Am Dancing at the Feet of my Lord, All is Bliss, All is Bliss) The band then launched into an incredibly (and typically) intricate piece ... but they played it perfectly. I'm still at a loss to describe how well these people improvise together. The band, whether in its four- or five-piece incarnation, really is like an organic creature that instinctively knows what each part of its body is about to do. The improvised four-way call-and-response section of one of the pieces in the second half was simply beyond comprehension. The only truly depressing thing about seeing John McLaughlin play live, though, is realizing just how inadequate your own guitar skills are.

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3rd Apr 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

Sala Heineken - Madrid

Halfway through their set, support band Dr. Dog announce that this is the last date of their European tour with Clap Your Hands Say Yeah and give thanks for the opportunity of getting overseas and on the road with the lengthily titled headliners. And then it makes sense. They must be knackered. Having been pretty much blown away the last time I saw Dr. Dog, I couldn’t figure out why this show seemed so flat. The audience were smiling along, clearly amused by the idiot antics of the goofy frontmen kitted out in shades and woolly hats. But there was something missing, this was a performance that suggested ‘Just one more, then we’re out of here’.

The same could apply to the hugely anticipated CYHSY. Desperate punters, begging for tickets outside in the rain, hinted that the levels of hype already witnessed in their native New York and more recently London had spread to Spain. Opening with the first ’song’ on the album (not the eponymous vaudevillian number) and finishing with its closer and highlight Upon This Tidal Wave of Young Blood, with a few new tracks in between, they put on a solid show. But that was it: solid. A large part of the album’s appeal is the sense of character and fun running through it and I imagined the live show would capture this. But a largely static backing band flanked tired/shy singer Alec Ounsworth, as they worked through the numbers. This is not to say it was disappointing; the songs themselves are strong enough to grab and hold the attention, his unique vocals certainly captivate and being joined onstage by Dr. Dog and friends for the encore was definately a high point (quite literally as a Dog guitarist performed an exemplary solo from the shoulders of a burly roadie). Overall, would be worth checking out again - just to see how they operate with a full tank of gas.

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28th Feb 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet