Chimpomatic

Best Of 2008

CSF

It's been a pretty good year for music according to my ears, and I've struggled to prioritise my top 5. The fifth place provided the most struggle and I narrowed it down to two albums I've overplayed and am currently on hiatus from - TV On The Radio and Vampire Weekend. I suspect they will both remain firm favourites, but song for song I'm going to have to bump Vampire Weekend into 6th place. Other notable mentions go to No Age (fuzzed up easy listening), Silver Jews (these guys finally clicked for me), Tapes and Tapes (an uncut diamond marred by shoddy production), Tindersticks (a comeback I would have betted against), The Wedding Present (it's all fours) and White Denim (lo-fi grandeur).

5. TV On The Radio - Dear, Science
Building on all the promise of their previous records, this one delivered a pretty flawless set of songs, all building of each other and rising to a great finale.

4. Ladyhawk - Shots
"Ladyhawke is in the toilet, she'll be here in a minute" joked band leader Duffy Driediger, as the original Ladyhawk launched into an awesome show at the Borderline - cementing beer-swilling, hard-rocking second-album Shots into a place in my list. No frills rock, with a lot of personality.

3. Flight of the Conchords - Flight of the Conchords
On paper, this record had to stink. Who wants to listen to the same gags over and over again? In reality, every song provides a remarkable understanding of music history, picking just the right sounds to serve the story - with so many jokes you hear a new one every time. Never, ever fails to light up Chimp HQ on a dreary day.

2. Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes
Another one that may have been temporarily overplayed, but this 70's throwback has been a pretty remarkable debut. Almost slipping unnoticed when it arrived in the office, it has been a solid player all year and I can't help but feel like it's greatness will soon be overshadowed by an even better follow-up. Unless they crack under the pressure.

1. Black Mountain - In The Future
Since it arrived on my desk in December 2007, In The Future has held the top spot for the year - and it still shows no sign of slipping. After a debut and a few side projects that paved the way, this was somehow exactly the record I expected and it never fails to impress me. Every note, every riff, every drum fill is just when and where I want it.

Some musical clangers for 2008: MMJ - Evil Urges (so disappointing), Weezer - Red Album, Breeders - Mountain Battles (only a semi-clanger), Kings of Leon - Only By The Night.

Best Songs: Portishead - The Rip, Port O'Brien - Close The Lid, Catfish Haven - Set In Stone, Fleet Foxes - Your Protector (for keeping BW running, if nothing else).

Best Gigs: Black Mountain rocked hard (again) at The Scala, Davin Berman's Silver Jews thoroughly proved their worth at ULU, Ladyhawk + The Dudes led the Canadian invasion at The Borderline, Oxford Collapse went under-appreciated at The Windmill and Jim James brightly shone a small light for the future of MMJ.

Live Clangers: Ween were truly disappointing.

Best Movies: In Bruges was a must-see despite an awful trailer, Iron Man andThe Dark Knight proved pretty solid superhero action, while This Is England and Dead Man's Shoes proved to be overlooked gems. Perhaps the biggest shock was the fact that the Sex And The City movie didn't totally suck - and in fact addressed the TV shows many shortcomings to make for a great movie.

Movie Clangers: Indiana Jones was as forgettable as you hoped it wouldn't be, while Somerstown didn't follow it's siblings in quality. There Will Be Blood did follow it's predecessors, with style over substance.

TV: The Wire came to a fantastic finale, Entourage continued to provide lifestyle envy, Breaking Bad took an original direction, Mad Men provided some slow-burning drama, while Summer Heights High provided some simple laughs. Undeclared and Freaks & Geeks finally caught my attention this year, wishing I'd caught both much earlier.

TV Clangers: Heroes just gets more and more contrived.

As a final note, headline of the year goes to chimpovich, regarding Men Called Him Mister's support slot for Foals in Madrid: "Band of Small Horses"

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31st Dec 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Best Of 2008

Locochimpo

Albums of the year:
Fleet Foxes - every song's a winner on this doozy. Though it's 'Mykonos (Alternative Version)' that gets my vote for song of the year.
Vampire Weekend - This lot strike me as being a bit smug, but i guess if you release a debut album this good then you're allowed to be.
MGMT - Oracular Spectacular - The hits way outweigh the misses on this one.
Kings of Leon - Only By The Night - Not their greatest work to date, but still very listenable.
Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago

Notable Mentions:
- British Sea Power - Do you like Rock Music?
- Soe'za - 7 Obstacles
- Acorn - Glory Hope Mountain

Greatest Hits of the year:
Dr John - The Best of the Night Tripper - a bargainous £5 (on Amazon) for this ace compilation of the best 60's and 70's tunes from Malcolm John Rebennack Jr.

Film of the year:
- No Country For Old Men - awesome
- Iron Man - super duper
- Superbad - McLovin it.

TV Boxsets of the year - Battlestar Gallactica. Frackin good stuff.

Gig of the Year - La bomba del tiempo, Konex Centre, Buenos Aires. (Ha - I had to mention it somewhere).

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23rd Dec 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Best Of 2008

Marmot

Music

Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago: best album of the year by far in my book. Every song is great.

Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend: great songs and manages to sound like Paul Simon in a good way.

El Guincho - Alegranza!: this year's Panda Bear, nearly.

TV On The Radio - Dear Science: their sound came together spectacularly well and they managed to take their song writing up a notch.

Bonnie 'Prince' Billy - Is It The Sea?: does a live album count? Slipped out almost unnoticed but is unbelievably good. Bought new vigor back to past songs.

Honorable mentions:

Pete Molinari - A Virtual Landslide : Chet Baker sings the Medway Blues.

Flight Of The Conchords : Very funny and surprisingly listenable.

Film

There Will Be Blood: for the first hour the best film I ever saw. Not so sure about the ending though.

No Country For Old Men: for the haircut.

The Orphanage: old school scary.

The Dark Knight: a bit long and self important but still one of this year's best.

Gigs

Smog @ St. James Church: even though they didn't play 'Dress Sexy At My Funeral'.

Jamie Liddell @ Koko: really.

Jim James @ St. James Church: hauntingly good.

Bog Log III @ 100 Club: his rendition of 'Clap Your Tits' was quite beautiful

TV

A year without television for me.

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17th Dec 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Best Of 2008

CJ

Music
Why? - Alopecia. Leftfield hip-hop of a high standard
Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend. Song of the year: "Walcott"
Mighty Joseph - Empire State. As close as we've come to a follow up to the excellent Cannibal Ox - The Cold Vein
Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes. I came to this late having enjoyed them on Later recently
Elbow - The Seldom Seen Kid.

Close: Despite a few clangers My Morning Jacket - Evil Urges has been working its way back up my playlists. It also has one of the worst album covers ever.
Atmosphere - When Life Gives You Lemons, You Paint That Shit Gold

Film
No Country For Old Men - gripping
Iron Man - great entertainment

Best gig
Didn't go to enough

Biggest disappointment - The Dark Knight. Didn't live up to my high hopes, especially after Batman Begins

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15th Dec 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Black Milk

Tronic

Fat Beats

Black Milk's official debut Popular Demand dropped last year to critical acclaim across the board. The detroit MC and producer was hailed as the rightful air to J Dilla's crown. And through his next release The Set Up with fellow Detroit MC Fat Ray and this, his second solo album, he is more than living up to the praise that seems to follow him everywhere he goes. Tronic is not only the best collection of songs from Curtis Cross, but sneaks in as one of the hip hop records of the year.

The title may suggest that this record sees Cross embracing technology but it's a wonderful mix of earthy beats and futuristic production. You can tell all this from the first song. Long Story Short introduces itself with a gently tinkling piano then launches into the deepest old school break since KRS dropped Step Into A World. It's pounding beat is enshrouded in raw production and synth washes making the whole thing kind of awkward but loose. This is dramatically contrasted with the following track Bounce. Sounding like the backing tune from an 80's Michael Mann car chase Bounce simmers with a rolling synth melody and a gentle click-clap beat. It's as smooth as Long Story is raw so with only 2 tracks under you belt you're already wondering what the USP is on this record. But that's it's beauty, whereas a lot of hip hop records show their cards too early Cross' main objective is quality whichever form that may take.

The tinny funk break on Give The Drummer Sum continues this nod to the old school as a fabulous retro fanfare melody envelopes the whole thing. This is echoed on the soulful Try, full of intricately spliced samples around which Cross slots his effortless verse. Again, in contrast comes Hold It Down with it's deep booming synthesisers and The Matrix, a dark, brooding and deathlessly serious cut curtsy of DJ Premier and featuring some great guest appearances from Pharoahe Monch and Sean Price. It also features the awesome line "You couldn't hang if you were Ving Rhames in Rosewood." Then you've got Cross' rarely seen ability to drop a slice of hip hop so perfect it could storm any pop charts given half a chance. Losing Out is that tune and it's pure class, infinitely listenable, the dopest baseline and some lightning rapping from Cross himself and the mighty Royce Da 5'9. Each verse is spat with strength and power and the production is tight, yet free to evolve as the song progresses.

In short Tronic is solid, exciting, supremely impressive and takes this Detroit artist into new territory. His quality was always evident on his previous releases but Tronic showcases every facet of that quality and introduces some more. It's a powerhouse of a record.

 

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14th Dec 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Shearwater

The Snow Leopard EP

Matador Records

It seems that having gone their separate ways Jonathan Melburg and Okkervile River's Will Sheff have become two of the hardest working and most prolific songwriters on the Americana underground scene. This year saw the release of Rook, Shearwaters mighty and deceptively impressive follow up to Palo Santo and just as the year draws to a close they sneak in this EP, The Snow Leopard. Named after probably the most stunning track on Rook, this EP rounds up many of the non-album B sides and giveaway tracks from the year and also some quite striking recordings from various radio sessions over the summer.

The title track just swells with a power that has become, over the last 2 albums, an expected element in this bands sound. Melburgs sweet voice quivers with all the vulnerability of a flickering flame but then rises with the music to below with dazzling confidence. There's a glimmer of madness in his voice as it reaches its peak only to fall to the floor and quiver once more. Much of this EP demonstrates Melburgs ability paralise the listener with an intimacy that can both freeze you with an icy chill and breath through you with unbelievable warmth. His radio K session performance of Rook, a song that flexes the muscles of this songwriter is stripped of it's strength and whispered with lonely acoustic accompaniment to great effect. Two of the tracks are covers, So Bad, originally by Baby Dee and Henry Lee, a traditional American folk song. They sit perfectly amongst the original Shearwater material and altogether form yet another valuable entry in this bands catalogue. They are an endlessly rewarding group who are really starting to master the many facets of their sound.

 

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12th Dec 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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The Roots

The Forum, Kentish Town, London

The legendary Roots crew brought a healthy dose of their Philly flare to a cold and wet winter's night in North London on Friday as they jammed with unfailing enthusiasm for about 2 hours. They brought with them a full live band and though I searched high and wide, no sign of any turntables. For these hip hop heavyweights it's no longer the platters that matter as ?uestlove engineers the beats from his lofty drum-kit mounted high on a plinth at the back. With his afro rising like a sun from behind his drum prison the man never stopped as both his unrelenting rhythmical structure and his physical presence formed the backbone of this incredible sound. And the reason it was incredible is that it redefined what a hip hop gig could be for me.

The show was by no means perfect and there were often times when my attention wandered but never once did it conform to a typical hip hop gig. Entering the stage first was a musician clad in a glorious tuba (later referred to as Tuba Gooding Junior) his deep, booming sound filling the venue. This introduction was mesmerizing and I was transfixed from the start as all the musicians took up their positions, keyboards, rhythm guitar, bass guitar, saxophone, percussion and drums all were in place and in struts Black Thought, baseball cap, sunglasses and phat gold chain. Taking his cue from ?uestlove who belts out the Apache rhythm that forms Phrenology's greatest cut Thought @ Work, the show commences in style. They frantically blend into Get Busy from the new album and it's not until this mayhem draws to a close that we are given time to breath.

With this live formation the band provide themselves with a lot of freedom, they're not constrained by programmed or sampled drum beats and so they are able to go where they please. They are able to tail off from one track into an impromptu rendition of Jungle Boogie led by the saxophonist, or let a song amble into a mammoth duel between ?uestlove's drum-kit and the percussionist's bongo dexterity. The other effect the live band has is the removal of the MC as the central focal point. Black Thought is way more central and way more impressive on record than he is on stage. This isn't really a critism of him, he's electrifying when on a flow, but is more of an observation about a front man that is quite willing to fade into the background and let his band take center stage. Sometimes he'd even fade off his rap mid-verse so that only he could hear his own words, like he was unaware of an audience.

They clearly love playing and seemed to never stop, flowing from one song to the next. The torrent of words flooding out over such a complex mixture of sounds does ask a lot of the audience and there definitely was a lull during the middle period, as this energy is hard to maintain. Black Thought's words were often enveloped by the music making it hard to hear him and with each song undergoing major changes it was hard to recognise some of them and many favorites passed me by unnoticed. Strangely enough, it was the musical interludes like the drum battle and the awesome bass guitar solo that thrilled me the most. They displayed the band's potential to turn on a knife edge and change up the genres altogether. And that was the principle success of the night. Black Thought's gold chain was the only conventional hip hop representative present that night. I didn't feel like I was at a hip hop gig and I was glad of it. People were moving to the back where there was more space to dance. As the whole show culminated in a rapturous and frenzied rendition of one of their biggest singles The Seed and every hand was thrust into the air I felt like I was in the presence of a truly legendary crew who were really writing their own rules and breaking them as well. The skill and creativity on that stage was palpable and a wonder to behold.

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10th Dec 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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ATP Weekender Curated by Mike Patton / Melvins: The Nightmare Before Christmas

Butlins, Minehead

When ATP announced this event six months ago, I could hardly believe my luck. I make no secret of my devotion to the Melvins and all things Ipecac (Patton's label), so this weekend festival (3 hours drive away) was like a gift from the almighty. As acts got added to the lineup the ticket value seemed to increase - especially when Butthole Surfers were added to the bill - so this was an event for which my expectations were pretty high. And whaddya know? They delivered 100 percent satisfaction, a weekend of eclectic and exciting music surrounded by like-minded people. And so, amidst the spartan tat of this windswept and freezing off-season holiday stalag, people gathered from all over the world to celebrate the left-of-centre and the truly gifted, on two main sound stages and one quadrophonic rig in a smaller venue.

(The) Melvins opened up on Friday as 'Melvins 83' - bringing original drummer Mike Dillard back to revisit their punky roots. Regular Melvins drummer Dale Crover played bass for this short set and was introduced as Matt Lukin. They were great - Mike Dillard sounded really tight - a performance that he can be justly proud of.

With so much going on, there were often choices to be made between two stages - throwing up some unexpected delights and a few minor disappointments. And so, in no particular order, a few words about some of the performances that I did see.

Best thing I've seen all year award goes to Zu - Italian noise-funk trio with the HEAVIEST sound I have EVER heard. Absolutely astounding virtuoso playing with not a hint of chin-stroking introspection. Big, noisy, intelligent party music - I cannot recommend this band highly enough. Want to see the most highly drilled weirdos in the world? Then check out The Locust - falling under the vague umbrella of Math-rock, these costumed and masked humanoids deliver precision salvos of Rhythm'n'Noise. What the drummer was doing looked inhuman. Brilliant. There were some understated and beautiful performances too - notably Martina Topley Bird who has the voice of an angel and Joe Lally (Fugazi) who has the dignity of a war veteran. At the other end of the scale (ie, dignity and restraint missing) was Squarepusher. Whilst his playing and programming are faultless, the smothering fog of his gigantic ego suffocated the fun out of the room. Thanks Tom, but we can make our own minds up about when to cheer. Audience response happens naturally when the music connects with people, and the winners in this respect were Taraf De Haidouks - the most awesome gypsy band on the planet. When they played, the room became a party, and once their time onstage was finished they just carried on outside. Makes you wonder how come our own folk music is so dull. Representing the slightly looser approach to music was the amazingly messy Butthole Surfers. Who knows how wasted Gibby Haines was, but he did punctuate one song by shouting "Three fuckin' hits of MDMA!", so that might have been a clue. Pretty damn psychedelic. Another treat was country-pickin' Junior Brown - possibly the greatest stunt-guitarist you will ever hear in your life, and with a rich barritone voice like a fine matured bourbon. There was a special performance of Stockhausen's Kontakte in the quadrophonic room - mixed from the original masters by Stockhausen's sound projectionist and complimented by a pianist and percussionist on stage. The sound system was crystal clear and the crowd remained quiet and respectfully awed by the one of the original noise-masters. By contrast, "America's funny man" Neil Hamburger was trying to achieve the goal of goading the audience towards "a crescendo of boo's" as he put it. Provocatively tasteless and badly delivered jokes about Michael Jackson and Heath Ledger coupled with general abuse of audience members. I liked it - and there was one genuinely funny joke - (What's worse than Muslim Extremism? Chinese Democracy). Mike Patton himself resisted the temptation to make appearances with multiple bands, concentrating instead on orchestrating a fine performance of The Director's Cut with his band Fantomas. They played the whole album and it sounded wonderful, with Patton clearly in an excellent mood - so much so they even gave us an encore of Al Green's Simply Beautiful which Patton dedicated to "all the laydeez in the house", prompting many female screams, whistles and a general gusset-moistening.

Booby Prizes go to the following - Big Business (hampered by a blown-up bass amp, and a subsequently muddy mix), Leila (technical problems not exactly enhancing something that seemed boring in the first place), Porn (onstage intrusion by mystery drunk guitarist [turns out it was the bloke out of Mastodon] leading to aimless collapse of order), James Blood Ulmer (great voice, but guitar playing somewhere beyond loose), and White Noise (the ledgendary David Vorhaus served up softcore euro-trance which bore no reference to his early experimental works). Didn't get to see Mastodon, Isis, The Damned, Farmer's Market or Kool Keith, so sorry about that. There was only so much a person could take in, but having said that, this was still the best music festival I have ever been to. Support ATP! They rule.

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9th Dec 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

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Cat Power

The Dark End Of The Street (EP)

Matador Records

Another round of mix-tape ready covers from Cat Power - with these leftovers from the Jukebox album sessions taking in Creedence, Otis and The Flying Burrito Brothers amongst others.

As with Jukebox itself, this record provides something of a mystery. While the song choices are more in keeping with my personal favourites than the previous album, the delivery is just plain predictable. Marshall gives a perfectly acceptable delievery of every song, but adds little personality to the originals and just sounds like a lounge room crooner - leaving you to think, "what's the point?".

Like watching X-factor, you occasionally are struck with how difficult that last high pitched warble might have been, and although you know Simon Cowell won't be giving her any grief there's just not much future in it past that Christmas number one.

 

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27th Nov 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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The Mighty Underdogs

Droppin' Science Fiction

Def Jux

In the mid 90's and early 2000, whether going under the name Solesides or Quannum, this crew, consisting of members of Blackalicious, Latyrx and DJ Shadow, couldn't put a foot wrong and without resorting to mindless thug-rap they crafted their own brand of mindfull hip-hop that displayed an unrivaled lyrical dexterity and creativity. All their releases whether solo or collectively involved collaboration and together amassed to a group of artists forging their own way in this game and just getting stronger and stronger by the year. With the massive collaborative release Quannum Spectrum in 1999 and Blackalicious' NIA the following year they seemed to be reaching their creative peak and, in my opinion, have slowly shrunk from those heights ever since. Gift Of Gab's raps became far too conscious of their do-good nature, Lyrics Born's solo releases were almost too aesthetically pleasing and possessed little of the edge he previously exhibited and Lateef The Truth Speaker briefly shone in his Maroons project but then all but disappeared. DJ Shadow kept up his end for as long as he could but then even he had to fall and did so gloriously with The Outsider.

So that said, the thought of Gift Of Gab teaming up with Lateef again for this Mighty Underdogs project more than moistened my palette for a return to form and seeing that is was all taking place on the ever-reliable Def Jux label was further proof of an imminent comeback. Sadly this isn't the case and it really pains me to say that. My criticism of the last two Blackalicious albums, that they are far too riddled with preaching lyrics about spirituality and love, are not my criticisms here and some may argue that I am beng slightly and unfairly hard on the boys. I have been wanting them to toughen up for ages, to spit out the odd swear word and show they are human, so when they finally do, on tracks like Gunfight and Aye I cringe like my dad's trying to be cool. I don't know why but it all sounds slightly forced and fake.

Everything's in place here for a great record. Lateef's flow is as tight as it always used to be and Gab's dexterity and speed with which he delivers his lines is top notch. While not quite matching up to Quannum Spectrum's use of guests, heavyweights like MF Doom and Casual make a richer tapestry - not to mention the DJ Shadow produced UFC Remix. But the inclusion of Chari 2na, Jurassic 5's self proclaimed 'Lyrical Herman Munster,' on War Walk only highlights how this genre has moved on, leaving behind these MC's - whereas an artist like Doom seems as fresh now as he did over a decade ago. So after much agonising deliberation I deduce that the key thing missing on this record is a sense of relevance. Time, and indeed Hip Hop has moved on since their heyday and though there may well never be a couple of MCs quite like Lateef and Gab it's what they rap about here that makes them seem irrelevant. As the album title suggests it's definitely fiction that is being dropped here and their tendency to use obvious narrative concepts as the basis for many of the songs is what makes the record so awkward. Gunfight sees Lateef assume the character of a heat-packin' wild west cowboy, Ill Vacation is a jaunty little holiday song while Science Fiction is, guess what, all set in outer-space and seems to run over what sounds like the Man With Two Brains soundtrack. One of the most puzzling and cringing of these concept tracks is Aye where all the protagonists are lusting after a certain female of rather sluttish tendencies. Not only is the concept of these righteous MC's sniffing round some ho quite curious but it also reminds me of the Latyrx classic Lady Don't Tek No and I am instantly made aware of the gulf that exists between the two songs.

Hands In The Air keeps things simple and for that reason works well, no over-ambitious concepts, just the solid rhymes over simple beats and Laughing At You is a triumph for the same reasons: it stays simple. Victorious is a great way to end the record and one that comes from a retrospective angle as both MCs reflect on a triumphant career. This record is by no means bad but it's impossible to form a critique without comparing it to these guys' previous work and it's at this point that the record falls very short of the mark. This crew and all their affiliates defined an era of hip hop for me and their continued commitment to a different moral path to many artists of the genre has always been inspirational, so it pains me all the more to see them left behind. I am sure they all have a lot more to contribute but they really need to reassess what they're about before the next release.

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26th Nov 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Guns 'N Roses

Chinese Democracy

Polydor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Jake One

White Van Music

Rhymesayers

Almost a quarter of the way through this record we, the listener, are encouraged to "steal money from your grandmother's brazier...or take it from the whore on the corner... and buy this fuckin record." While this site by no means condones such behavior a prompt acquisition of Jake One's debut is strongly advised.

Seatle's Jacob Dutton, aka Jake One, has contributed production to some of the most well known artists in hip hop today and also to some of the lesser. He may not be a household name like some of his contemporaries but the respect he commands from those in the know is such that an album as expansive and diverse as White Van Music can flow so coherently while featuring MCs as varied as it does. What makes White Van Music so enjoyable and so unique is that it pitches underground heroes like MF Doom alongside tried and tested chart-topping heavyweights like Busta Rhymes. Having done tracks for G-Unit's debut Beg For Mercy he is accustomed to laying down dark atmospherics for a more hardcore style so to have that flow alongside rappers like De La Soul's Posdnous is something rarely heard.

But this isn't just your regular who's who of hip hop comp. He may dazzle us with the guest list but when Jake One pairs people up on the same track it becomes something quite special. The earliest of these collaborations is The Truth, featuring the gritty delivery of Freeway which is contrasted perfectly by the free flow of Brother Ali. Both rappers represent different ends of the spectrum but their partnership is inspired. More suited is the duo of Posdnous and Atmosphere's Slug. As they weave in and out over the expertly crafted shuffle/clap beat their similarities become obvious. This can also be said for White Van which features the slow, intense styles of Alchemist, Evidence and a brief appearance by Prodigy. This audio curation is only possible if the brains behind it has a deep understanding of the artists he is working with and Jake One certainly does.

There is no overriding style that ties every song together here and on paper it shouldn't really be this good. An album as stylistically diverse as this isn't going to please everyone all the time and does feature some rappers that don't necessarily float my boat. Keak da Sneak provides a laborious cut on Soil Raps and Little Brother's moment on Bless The Child is less than inspiring with the beat severely outstaying its welcome. However these moments of bordom are few and far between, the rest is pretty solid. Besides the aforementioned collaborations the other highlights are I'm Coming, the album opener featuring Nottz and Black Milk, an artist who, for me, is going from strength to strength, the menacing Dead Wrong featuring Young Buck and both the MF Doom cuts. Trap Door and Get 'Er Done really show this producers versatility and his nack for matching the right beat to the artist. Doom's hulking delivery skulks over a suitably shuffling beat that might plod along as you'd expect but the glimmers of jazz high-hat rhythm provide the dense warmth that is needed to support the weight of the voice. So instead of setting your iPod to shuffle you may as well go see that whore with the necessary cash you need to buy this album and the job's done.

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20th Nov 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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The Lord Dog Bird

The Lord Dog Bird

Jagjaguwar

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

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

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

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

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12th Nov 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Kieran Hebden & Steve Reid

NYC

Domino

For their fourth collaborative album in 3 years, Kieran Hebden and Steve Reid turn to Reid's home town for inspiration. Recorded at the famous Manhattan studio Avatar, that has seen artists such as Miles Davis, Steve Reich and The Roots pass through its hallowed doorway, this album draws from the sounds and feel of New York City. With past recordings being challenging to the extreme, NYC seems to incorporate all the ground that these two artists have covered in the past and has managed to bring it all into line for what must be their best and most certainly their most accessible album to date.

All six songs rely on the contrast of simplicity and complexity with each structure being drastically stripped down compositions that employ an incredibly limited musical pallet. Having said that, each song glistens with intricate complexities that are packed into their formless shell with seeming abandon. Hebden is credited with providing simply "electronics" which heavily understates his contribution. Each track is laced with his trademark texture consisting of swirling atmospherics, mumbling white noise and clipped electric guitar. But of course at the centre of all this is Reid's drumming. Like a flock of swallows flying in unison, Reid's drumming holds all the elements together as it darts from one place to the next. It is the basis of each composition and yet drifts along with utter freedom. It can provide backing texture to Hebden's twiddling and samples or it can rise to centre stage with awesome strength and confidence.

The most challenging moment is chosen to lead the album, with Lyman Place kicking things off with an incredibly tense seven minute opener. It's like being in a lift in the tallest building in the world and watching the floor-count rise higher and higher with ever increasing speeds. If you can get past this, the record really starts with 1st & 1st. Like the credit crunch has bitten into the supply of musical notes, this song is built around a 4 or 5 note funk hook that is repeated in all its forms as Reid's drums take on almost tribal rhythm. 25th Street really captures the chaos of Manhattan's streets as frantic drumming churns inside out along with a multitude of fractured samples, including what sounds like the last sips of a McDonalds coke through a straw. Hebden's triumphant EP released earlier this year is brought to mind as this chaos effortlessly slips into a regular 4/4 beat towards the end, but he miraculously manages to restrain himself form this form and structure and lets the beat see out the rest of the song but continue no further. Arrival and Between B&C adopt a more abstract approach and choose a blanket-type structure that covers the whole song in feather-light cymbals and astral synths. But, when mid-way through Between B&C the drum roll ceases and a deep piano melody drops in, the result is electrifying.

Departure closes the album with a ground-mat of delicate, looping glockenspiel that recalls Hebden's early work as Four Tet. It's a beautiful way to finish and it simply gleams with jewell-like clarity and sensitivity. Reid really embeds his drumming deep into the distance and it's from this all encompassing bed of rhythm that Hebden's restrained percussion sparkles. It's a gentle way to close this accomplished recording and really completes the journey through this city, a journey that has been terrifying, mesmerising, hypnotic, exciting and ultimately blissful. Avatar's musical ghosts haunt every beat of this record as it brings into harmony the free-form creativity of MIles Davis, the avant-guard flare of Steve Reich and the The Roots' sense of rhythm. It oozes tradition and yet is acutely contemporary and is the glorious sum of many years of ceaseless creative pursuit by both artists and something not to be missed.

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6th Nov 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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A Place To Bury Strangers

A Place To Bury Strangers

Rocket Girl

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

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

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

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

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4th Nov 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Crystal Antlers

EP

Touch And Go

Listening to California's Crystal Antlers is like struggling to wrestle miles and miles of razor-wire into a shoe box, and yet as hopeless and painful as that might sound it is an endlessly rewarding task. This 6 track EP, which is enjoying a re-release from Touch And Go Records, is as abrasive as anything you'll hear this side of a blackboard and yet it oozes soul in the most unlikely of ways. With guitars that screech like bad breaks on a juggernaught and the hoarse vocals of front man Jonny Bell, this debut release is an epic heap of gritty yet soulful punk, noodling psych rock and the odd touch of free-form jazz. It's a record that sets up contradictions throughout its duration and after just over 24 minutes leaves you pondering them as you look for the play button again.

Each song navigates its own route with little regard for formal song structure and from the first moments of opener Until The Sun Dies (Part 2) we are cast into an abrupt mess of driving bass guitar and the instant blast of vocals. This song can just as abruptly slam on the brakes and take all this down a notch to a breezy melody and yet as disorientating as this structure is the result is quite thrilling and after this first song you're ears are bruised but you can't stop. The terms soul and punk are hardly likely bedfellows but they both apply here. Amid the rasp of Bell's vocals is an aching sensitivity seen most powerfully on one of the stand out tracks A Thousand Eyes. As he belts out the chorus "Why do you have to try / to see with a thousand eyes?" you have visions of a man on his knees, clenched fists held aloft. The song veers off into spacey territory for the latter half and then returns for a bracing finale.

Parting Song For The Torn Sky is how this EP is rounded off and by the end of it you'll fully agree with its title. The magnitude of this song will tear a whole in the sky as it climbs higher and higher on ever increasing piles of drums and cymbals. Each throat tearing scream that is jettisoned from this growing construction of sound is like a missile being launched. Free guitar whirls and dives around every crash of the drums like the ghost of Hendrix and after an exhausting seven minutes the machine ever so slowly, grinds to a colossal halt and the silence is deafening.

The sense of awe one feels when noticing life surviving in the most unlikely of places or flourishes of beauty amid barren wasteland is what you'll feel after giving yourself over to this record. There'll be times when you'll think you're listening to the new Cannibal Corpse album but don't panic, push on and you will undoubtedly find a wealth of expansive beauty.

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30th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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O'Death

Broken Hymns, Limbs And Skin

City Slang

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

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

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

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

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28th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Deerhunter

Microcastle

4AD

Fans of this Atlanta four-piece are in for a real treat with the release of their first album for 4AD. Microcastle is the followup to 2006's critically acclaimed Cryptograms and departs from the highly constructed debut by doing away with much of the vast atmospherics, lifting the overall tempo of the record and injecting some exciting muscle into their sound. But this isn't the only treat in store. The release is accompanied by a bonus disc entitled Weird Era Cont. and is an album in its own right consisting of 13 new tracks.

Like The Pixies quiet/loud contrasts, Deerhunter construct their sound using a similar grasp of opposing forces. Their success lies in it's ability to build great, all-encomassing soundscapes of fog that swirl around you like soup, and then in a blink of en eye pierce this density with a clarity that dissipates all around it and appears, standing alone and shining with dazzling intensity. The other contrast widely used here is in scale. Opening track Cover Me (Slowly) launches off with crashing cymbols and soaring melody that instantly evokes visions of an ever expanding landscape growing wider and wider from a bounless basis. In a blink of an eye Agoraphobia follows this with stripped down drum beats and Bradford Cox's intimate vocals and the listener is abruptly jolted down to earth. Cryptograms employed the same use of contrasts but did it from song to song with almost every other song being an expansive and densely textured instrumental composition. Microcastle incorporates all this but does it in a way that brings a smoother flow to the album.

Bradford Cox's vocals shift greatly according to the musical arena they find themselves in. The slow pace of Activa brings with it Cox's thick, laborious delivery as if each word is wading through treacle. Whereas Nothing Ever Happened with it's deep driving guitar and relentless beat sees Cox drift with dreamy buoyancy. Like his side project Atlas Sound, Cox creates very thoughtful compositions where each word uttered is enveloped by bristling synth fuzz, gentle percussion and layer upon layer of subtle sampling and production. But he builds on this greatly with this release adding muscular guitar chords that, in the case of Nothing Ever Happened and closer Twilight At Carbon Lake, gather up all this delicate construction and cary it all away on huge waves of spund that never seem to end. They bring an epic quality to the latter half of the record and continue the trend well into the bonus disc.

Weird Era Cont. is far less considered and benefits greatly for it. The songs seem to be less precious like the hard work was done with the first disc and the pressures off here. As a result it's as good if not better than the lead record. Once you reach the end of this disc you get a dazzling idea of what it was all building up to in the form of the final track Calvary Scars II / Aux Out. It's a ten minute finale of epic proportions that ends up pounding and pounding and in the course of this it changes the face of thsi whole release and it, and the entire second disc bump the whole thing up to a fine score.

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27th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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The Decemberists

Always The Bridesmaid: A Singles Series Volume I

Rough Trade

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

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

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

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23rd Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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

Electric Ballroom, London. 20/10/08

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

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

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

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

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22nd Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Fucked Up

The Chemistry Of Common Life

Matador

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

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

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

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

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

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22nd Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Desalvo

Mood Poisoner

Rock Action

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

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

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

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21st Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Bonnie 'Prince' Billy With Harem Scarem and Alex Neilson

Is It The Sea?

Domino

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

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

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

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

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19th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Sic Alps

U.S.EZ

Siltbreeze

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

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

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

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

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16th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Various Artists

Dreams Come True: Classic First Wave Electro

Domino

Dreams Come True: Classic First Wave Electro 1982-1987 is a compilation by writer Jon Savage, released through Domino - and right away you get the sense that this is a very personal collection for Savage. Billed as a compilation of early electro it bears only a few of the hallmarks that modern (?) electro carries. Essentially, this is the more populist sound of electro which became refined over the following years with the biggest hits yet to come, so what you have here then is early 80's electronic soul music - not particularly intending to be electro, just turning out that way. The sound of the Linn Drum is in evidence throughout, and many keyboard parts are played rather than using sequencers. There are also quite a few guitar parts floating about, even on Klein & MBO's Dirty Talk - the most truly electro item in the collection.

These tracks represent a lot of what was to come - you can be sure that Green Gartside of Scritti Politti was listening to this sound as he was writing Cupid and Psyche 85, and once the likes of Arif Mardin had embraced it for Chaka Khan's '85 comeback, this was a sound firmly in the mainstream. You can't keep a good song down tho' - and the standout track here is Larry Levan's mix of Class Action's Weekend, which would sound right at home on the next Grand Theft Auto soundtrack.

Mostly a moment in time for Jon Savage and a little inconsistent, but an interesting and enjoyable collection nonetheless.

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15th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Abe Vigoda

Skeleton

Bella Union

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

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

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

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

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14th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Department Of Eagles

In Ear Park

4AD

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

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

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

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

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10th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Jay Reatard

Matador Singles '08

Matador Records

I'm not going to bother with the back story to this prolific punk maverick as it wasn't that long ago that he put out the more than cohesive compilation for his In The Red Records releases. Reatard is a new signing to Matador records and for the last six months they have been putting out a limited 7" which. Each release has been put out in a progressively more limited run, starting with 3,500 worldwide for single No. 1 and ending with only 400 for No. 6. They experimented with multiple formats from picture discs, split 7" and colour vinyl and together they really show Reatard's love for this format and the freedom it brings.

As you'd imagine this collection covers a smaller timescale than the previous one and so sounds a whole lot more coherent. The fierce power-house bursts like It's So Useless have disappeared and the whole sound has changed in an interesting way. It hasn't mellowed, but Reatard has managed to morph his energy into fully-formed rock songs - but still shoehorns them into punk-length packages. So what you get is verse, chorus and guitar solos but all at breakneck speed like each song really has to be somewhere else, like, yesterday. The exception to this general rule is the Deerhunter cover version Florescent Grey which appeared on the split 7", the other song being Deerhunter's returning the favor with a version of Reatard's Oh, It's Such A Shame.

This collection will more than fill the gap for those eagerly awaiting Reatard's follow up to Blood Visions as it plays out like an album. He has experimented with his sound and spans a wide range, from the punk stab of Screaming Hand to the psychedelia of the Deerhunter cover to the full on pop of An Ugly Death. These new strings to his bow and the willingness to experiment are turning Jay Reatard into a power-house of an act that is always guaranteed to surprise. He displays a wealth of of ideas and an exciting lack of preciousness about releasing them. As a compilation this works very well but the real winner here is Reatard's resurrecting of the magic that goes along with the 7" release. It's a dying form, but since joining Matador he has shown that there's plenty of life in it yet.

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7th Oct 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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The War On Drugs / The Dudes / Ladyhawk

Borderline, London October 1st 2008

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Constantines

Kensington Heights

Arts & Crafts

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

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

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

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30th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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TV On The Radio

Dear Science

4AD

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Chad Vangaalen

Soft Airplane

Sub Pop

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

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

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

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

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Catfish Haven

Devastator

Secretly Canadian

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

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

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

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

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22nd Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Juana Molina

Un Dia

Domino

Juana Molina's fifth album opens with the line, "Undia voy a cantar las canciones sin letra y cada uno podra imaginar si hablo de amor, de desilusion, banalidades o sobre platon." And for those of you who don't know, this translates as, "One day I will sing the songs with no lyrics and everyone can imagine for themselves if it's about love, disappointment, banalities or about Plato." You don't have to dig too deep into this record or even speak her language to understand that she is well on the way to this goal. Un Dia is clearly the result of some pretty ruthless examination of her past work as here, Molina pulls out certain elements that previously lay hidden and fades other's expertly into the background. The two factors to which I refer are the emergence of rhythm and the receding of the vocals. The rhythm and pulse of this music is key and as each groove and beat writhe over and inside eachother, Molina's minimal and whispered, repeated vocals become just another tool for this truly mesmeric and seductive sound. Un Dia is as uncompromising and mesmeric as some of the finest work by Japanese experimental artist Susumu Yokota and not since Joanna Newsom's Ys have I heard such a fiercely original record.

Describing the rhythm in her previous work as being "like a hidden layer in Photoshop," the aim with Un Dia was to bring to the forefront something that had previously been obvious to her but not to others. This rhythm, being played out on wood, cymbal, gentle acoustic guitar and bombo leguero and woven from delicate electronic glitches produces trance-like compositions that slowly gather momentum, taking on more instruments with every revolution until they swirl around your head in a magical frenzy. Molina's voice is heavily sampled and looped creating a complex mesh of repetition that is at the heart of this trance. It's incredibly seductive music but not in a Siren sort of way. The seduction occurs by the sheer weight of sound that rises up before you and the unrelenting endurance of it. Most of these songs surpass the seven minute mark and all build on an initial rhythm and maintain this to the end, gathering a throng of support along the way. And yet it all plays out with the lightest of touches.

With opener and title track Un Dia, Molina's voice is so distant as are the numerous instruments that, as the song progresses, it feels like you are being slowly surrounded by sound. The expert production allows each sound to, in turn, loom out of this impenetrable ring and approach your ear. Some of these compositions are quite unrelenting and refuse to give the listener what they want. This works out to be the ultimate success but the songs that build to what can very loosely be described as a pay-off are simply dazzling. Vive Solo begins with quiet acoustic strums and Molina's voice assumes angelic simplicity. The gentle clap of the rhythm creeps in and this builds the tempo with incredible subtlety until Molina's breathy deliveries evolve into almost horn-like tone and sound out like an instrument of another planet. Los Hingos De Marosa follows a similar structure laying down complexly woven textures of electronic chirps that are eventually punctuated with Molina's blissful voice.

Whether dancing playfully around the rhythm or swirling with nagging endurance Molina evolves and contorts her voice to fit the organic sounds that surround it and its captivation lies in its ability to greet you with the most human of touches and also behave in truly otherworldly ways. Her use of voice-as-instrument here has created a restless, magical, narcotic master piece.

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19th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Mogwai

The Hawk Is Howling

Wall Of Sound

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

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

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

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

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18th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Lambchop

Oh (Ohio)

City Slang

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

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

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

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

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16th Sep 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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David Vandervelde

Waiting For The Sunrise

Secretly Canadian

A couple of weeks ago, during a particularly stressful time I received an all important and long awaited phone call. Needing to quickly write down the information relayed to me over the phone, I scrambled around in my bag for something on which to write and all I could lay my hands on was the Waiting For The Sunrise press release. Sadly this was as close as this album would come to being essential.

Believe it or not, that intro in no way suggests this to be a bad album. Vandervelde's mini-debut in 2007 was a warm breeze blowing over much of the releases that year. It was heavily steeped in rock history, particularly that of Marc Bolan but was enjoyable none the less. The trick is making that heavy emulation last over more than one album and by the sound of his followup the plan was simply to change the point of reference. This year, soft rock and the sound of Fleetwood Mac are the source in question and much the same enjoyment is gained from this as with the debut but it really doesn't seem enough.

Opener I Will Be Fine is classic Mac as it tip toes in on a delicate beat and dainty piano tinkle. Vandervelde's hazy vocals are light and breezy and allow much room to the music as they fade to the background during extended bridge sections. Hit The Road plods endlessly on amidst a fuzzed out wall of guitars while Someone Like You rises above the sun-bleached haze to produce a nice guitar driven melody and colourful injections of retro keyboards.

Much of the feeling of the 70's is evoked on Waiting For The Sunrise including theinability to stop playing when a song has run its course. Someone Like You hits the 4 minute mark and enters into an instrumental of swirling keyboards that you'd think would see out the rest of the song, but then in come the vocals and the next half begins, but the next half is much of the same and it all just seems like an inability to say goodbye. Need For Now is as non-desrcript as you'll get and it still goes on for over 6 minutes, much of that being the same kind of plodding keyboard instrumentals. Lyin' In Bed is even longer and covers even less musical ground than it's predecessor.

This is a well produced and musically solid album, while Vandervelde has an impressive vocal range and more than achieves his goal. But when the goal seems like little more than emulation, you have to ask yourself what the point of all this is. The reason why there isn't much back story to this review is that I did actually lose that press release when the information adorning the back of it no longer seemed important to me. The same can be said for David Vandervelde unfortunately.

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15th Sep 2008 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

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Kings Of Leon

Only By The Night

Sony

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

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

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

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

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

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

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