Chimpomatic

The Blakes

The Blakes

Time was when I would pool my baby-sitting proceeds and parental pocket money for a once fortnightly trip to the closest thing that a small provincial German town could muster to an equivalent of Rough Trade. Such hard won earnings would be sacrificed at the musical altar of the latest Seattle, Manchester or Boston Gods or perhaps invested in discs born a generation before in New York state country basements or conjured up in a downtown New York lofts. The sounds of yester-year were guaranteed a fair hearing as they would be on permanent rotation acting as a soundtrack to games of Nintendo, occasional teenage fumbles and 'what am I all about?' existential identity crises. Until another shopping trip a fortnight later that is. At least they had a whole two weeks to win me over. But oh, times have changed.

Unfortunately today's new kids on the block have a far tougher task in proving their worth. There is no two week rotation any longer, but in the days of 7000 downloaded songs in your back pocket and the limited airplay of journeys to and from work new sounds have a tougher task to dislodge that which is already tried and tested. Time is not on the side of newcomers. Such is the fate of one of the new generation – The Blakes, a band who (rather conveniently for this particular review) hail from Seattle but recorded their debut album in the same Fort Apache Studios once home to Boston Lemonheaded and Pixied indie darlings.

The self titled 'The Blakes' is an album that back in the day might well have been a slow-burning winner, but alas now it will probably turn out to be a 'life in the fast lane' loser. It is not that The Blakes are an outfit without merit, just that they now have far more competition. 'Modern Man' is all angular guitars and off kilter drumming that makes you want to clap your hands and say 'yeah', while the autistic wailing of 'Two Times' makes you want to climb Australian Vines. Sadly for the Blakes, there are acts firmly ensconced on my playlists that already serve these purposes, and I dare say on other Chimpomatic reader's lists too.

Ironically, the tunes that are most likely to be awarded playlist status - as opposed to cropping up on shuffle - arrive when The Blakes set themselves free of the template set by their Seattle predecessors 15 years before. There is a lack of coherence that counts against this being a great album but at least hints at things to come. With shared singing and writing duties there appears to be something of an identity crisis at the heart of this band. No doubt The Blakes consider themselves edgy outsiders, in the mould of all the other outsiders now in the mainstream, but when they let down their guard they actually churn out songs that demonstrate a talent for finding a groove ('Vampire') and an ear for a pop tune ('Lintwalk') that the sensibilities of their hoped for 'alternative' fanbase might rail against. If The Blakes can sort out their own version of the 'what are we all about' teenage existential identity crisis then they may just produce an album that finds itself permanently rotated rather than just making transient shuffle appearances that are as occasional as teenage fumblings.

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#Muxloe

25th Jul 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Glastonbury Festival

Somerset

June 27th-29th, 2008

It's the scale that kills you. The cliches about it being a temporary city really are true - Glastonbury is huge. The stages are all great - loved the Park Stage especially, with Santogold, Franz Ferdinand and The Duke Spirit all on rocking form - but it's the sheer size that make this festival so special. As a GlastonB virgin, it's such a different experience than spending all weekend dipping into the BBC's comprehensive coverage.

After taking a strategic decision to bail on the afternoon and make it back in time for the Euro final (and a seat on the train) it's funny seeing it on TV again. You're so close up, and you can see what the bands are actually up to, but you lose that amazing sense of being with thousands and thousands of freaks who are all up for a good time, from the weirdos in costumes (loved the cow and hotdog combo, and the banana/gorilla couple - the pig gimp mask being lead around by  a prosthetic cock was a little step too far at four in the afternoon...) to the kids in cricket jumpers watching Band Of Horses, or the unannounced acts like Franz Ferdinand popping up (always thought they were a bit overhyped, but they're a v good live proposition), and the chance to see new faves like Santogold (possibly my festival highlight) as well as Chimp hits like Band Of Horses and Black Mountain (breakfast rock? you can't beat it) and then big pop acts like Amy Winehouse, Duffy and Jay-Z - who put on a full-on show - totally subtle fuck-you to Noel Gallagher and then a great set full-on of hands-in-the-air hits.

Missed Dizzee Rascal, The Ranconteurs, Hot Chip and Edwyn Collins, (and Vampire Weekend, who pulled the Jay-Z diamonds-in-the-air trick for their night time version of Oxford Comma). Heard they were all great - but did catch an impromptu jazz set from a random trio who'd somehow dragged a clarinet, sax and double bass all the way up to the stone circle for sunrise on sunday morning - had to summon the force myself to get up there, so maximum points for effort to them all lugging that all up there. The other surprise hit was wandering into Trash City (imagine a disco zone in Mad Max 3 are you're halfway there) and finding the full-on hands in the air party that Horsemeat Disco were putting on in the NYC Downlow club - brilliant trannied up mood, with a dark, sweaty murder on the dancefloor vibe. Totally entertaining, with fake taches given out as the get-you-back-in passes.

Bailed early on Sunday to get back up for the real world on Monday so caught The Verve and Neil Diamond on the BBC's catch up, but totally loved it. If you haven't been: do it. 

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#Gig
#chimp71

30th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Ladyhawk

Shots

Jagjaguwar

I've yet to hear 'the first great album of the year' or 'the second' for that matter, so it's with a clear conscience and complete disregard for continuity that I give the first great album of the year title to Vancouver's Ladyhawk and their great album - Shots.

OK, so it's nearly April and I'm not listening to as much new music as I used to. Partly because of various grown-up commitments and partly because there's just too much new music out there. For someone who used to base his musical jumps into the unknown on an appearance in a trusted band's Thank You list (or failing that usually buying anything on Sub Pop) - the alternative music choice in 2008 can be quite overwhelming.

An old-school rock band then, with guitars bass and drums - that stand and fall by the quality of the songs rather than a quirky hook, look or attitude, is to this cynic, a 21st century blessing. In this respect, I suppose Shots shares more in common with Black Mountain, than Vampire Weekend. Little surprise perhaps, as Ladyhawk share a label with their fellow Canadians.

Recorded in an abandoned farmhouse, over a booze-fuelled two weeks, Shots is the soundtrack to one of the great parties. Rocking hard in places, edgy and introspective in others, it's a party that could spiral out of control at any minute, but one you definitely don't want to leave. Like Neil Young and his honeyslide powered On The Beach, Shots really captures the mood of its recording.

I Don't Always Know What You're Saying kicks things off and sets the mood; with a reverbed and fuzzy production that sounds exactly like it was recorded in a booze-fuelled abandoned farmhouse. S.T.H.D., Fear and Corpse Paint, maintain the tempo - dark, edgy, rocking. Before they slow it down for a couple of tracks, I'll Be Your Ashtray calls to mind yet more fellow Canadian's - Magnolia Electric Company (“I'll be your ashtray. Because I only want to feel you burning.”) whilst Faces of Death carries the melancholic air of too much whiskey.

But before getting too down, the party kicks off again with Night, You're Beautiful a self-explanatory title that could neatly sum-up Shots. You get the idea that Ladyhawk love the night - not in a whitefaced-Gothic kind of way, more that all the sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll is going on after hours ( “Darkness you touch my soul. And you fill my heart. And you make me burn when we're apart”) They love the night so much, they even include a few “do-do-do” backing vocals amongst the sludge guitars.

And what better way to round all that off than with an eleven minute epic. Ghost Blues is in no hurry to get anywhere, and even lulls you into thinking that they've succumbed to a bit of self-indulgence. Then, around the 6 minute mark, the band let out a mighty Primal Scream; a call round a campfire for a higher spirit to take them home, probably a call to the Pagan God of Awesome Parties - whose number, without doubt, is in Ladyhawk's favourites.

A. Great. Album.

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#chimpovich

25th Mar 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Vampire Weekend

Vampire Weekend

XL

29 days into 2008 and it's here. Sound the horn to call in your spies, the search is over. We may be a week late, but the first second great record of this year is upon us and that's not just yet another NME prediction of greatness, this is the official Chimp opinion - and we're strict here. Cast your mind back to 2001 and your excitement at hearing The Strokes' debut Is This It. It wasn't an altogether new sound gracing your ears, it's musical reference points were unashamedly obvious but it represented a departure from the current music du jour that was gripping the scene. Well, Vampire Weekend is the self titled debut from this New York 4 piece and it sounds nothing like The Strokes but they are bedfellows for more profound reasons. It represents a similar departure and ironically enough this departure could be seen as the breakaway from the trend that Is This It started. The Strokes kick started a return to grimy indie bands belting out simple, well crafted guitar music and we've seen very little else ever since. Vampire Weekend do the opposite. Yes they're an indie 4 piece from New York but their sound reaches far wider and their references are refreshingly varied.

Gentle Afro-rhythms combine with cheap organs, jaunty drum beats and a vocal style so relaxed and unassuming it all makes for easy listening in the best possible way. Although Talking Heads does vaguely come to mind the rest of the reference points are rarely seen in today's indie scene. Paul Simon, The Police and Ski Sunday spring to mind and like someone who has drawn a head on a piece of paper, folded it over and passed it on for the next person to draw the body all these odd parts unfold into an astonishingly complete whole. If you're the type that needs genres to aid your musical appreciation fear not as the boys have done the work for you describing their sound as 'Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa,' and 'Upper West Side Soweto.' It's Paul Simon but with Chevy Chase at his side keeping things light.

The other reason The Strokes' debut has been twinned with this one is the ease by which it seems to have been born. Songs like Oxford Comma with it's lounge-act style keyboards or the pogoing funk guitars of A-Punk drip forth like melting wax, nothing seems forced and no one seems to give a shit if it works or not. With a varied choice of themes like English grammar, preferred bus routs or American preppie fashion this is not your average record about love and loss. M79 is where my Ski Sunday reference crops up. Starting off with courtly 18th century harpsichord then slipping into a chorus of chamber music, this really shouldn't work. M79 is named after a Manhattan bus route which only adds to the confusion as this song evokes more cultures than is healthy in just over 4 minutes. The hymnal-meets-tribal thunder of I Stand Corrected shows a slightly more serious string to the bow and it leads on brilliantly to Walcott, the figurehead of this record. It's a furious steel-drum carnival of a song. Crashing cymbals and soaring melodies carry the repeated 'don't you want to get out of Cape Cod' chorus to new heights. It's dazzling and a shame it doesn't finish the album.

Vampire Weekend is good because it isn't trying to be good and it's different for the same reason. Not once do you get the impression that these world-rhythms and mismatched instruments have been employed because no one else has done it recently. It's effortless and it's joyously unaware of itself. We'll have to wait and see how the ultimate judge of time treats this little gem. These are simple pop songs and it's hard to say whether some may fall by the wayside but right now their simplicity and charm is exactly what we need. Their creativity and wealth of ideas is such that one listen to Vampire Weekend will get your mouth watering for their next album. Bring it on. This world needs more Ski Sunday-Afro Pop.

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#BC

4th Feb 2008 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

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Crimony

EP

Creeping under the wire at only 6 songs I managed to pick this EP up in a bargain bin for only £1.99. Recording together now and then, one time brothers-in-law Paul Roessler and Mike Watt put this out in 1988. Paul Roessler wrote all of the songs on this record, and he also sings. His voice, and also the atmosphere of the songs - in particular the opening Life's Too Short - remind me of a slightly less geeky version of John B. Sebastian. And not in a bad way. The EP is a easy listen, with Vampire Party being a pretty cool track. Maybe this sounds a bit like Ben Folds Five.

Pick it up if you see it, but don't bust a gut tracking it down.

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#CSF

29th Sep 2003 - Add Comment - Tweet

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