The Cesarians – ‘Flesh Is Grass/Woman’
Paddling against the tide of day-to-day pop generics, The Cesarians’ mesmerising debut single ‘Fresh Is Grass/Woman’ cuts deep with lashing lyrics of cautionary tales of doom and despondency for the Modern World’s thoughts, philosophies and philistines.
Featuring ex-members of Penthouse, Monkey Island and Baadar Meinhoff, the London-based quintet have produced a modern day musical acronym, dripping with early Eastern European gypsy decadence.
‘Fresh Is Grass’ opens surreptitiously, tip-toeing daintily with A Nightmare Before Christmas innocents, before splitting viciously into a cacophonous chorus of marching band throtting chords. At this point the lyrics appear superfluous to the musical depiction of what is painted, but do nothing but add to the innocents and fear that floats rhythmically in the manner of Patrick Wolf ripping up the Phantom of the Opera and starting again with lustrous zeal.
‘Woman’ starts where its procreation left off: sounds of brass instrumentals crashing like thunder backed up with a driving bass line unravels nonchalantly into Charlie Finke’s Tom Waits-esque vocal, flaunting lies, honesty and deviance. The result is dramatic: a melodic musing of bludgeoned textures of musical wit that a young Nick Cave would have been proud of.
Paddling against the tide of day-to-day pop generics, The Cesarians’ mesmerising debut single ‘Fresh Is Grass/Woman’ cuts deep with lashing lyrics of cautionary tales of doom and despondency for the Modern World’s thoughts, philosophies and philistines.
Featuring ex-members of Penthouse, Monkey Island and Baadar Meinhoff, the London-based quintet have produced a modern day musical acronym, dripping with early Eastern European gypsy decadence.
‘Fresh Is Grass’ opens surreptitiously, tip-toeing daintily with A Nightmare Before Christmas innocents, before splitting viciously into a cacophonous chorus of marching band throtting chords. At this point the lyrics appear superfluous to the musical depiction of what is painted, but do nothing but add to the innocents and fear that floats rhythmically in the manner of Patrick Wolf ripping up the Phantom of the Opera and starting again with lustrous zeal.
‘Woman’ starts where its procreation left off: sounds of brass instrumentals crashing like thunder backed up with a driving bass line unravels nonchalantly into Charlie Finke’s Tom Waits-esque vocal, flaunting lies, honesty and deviance. The result is dramatic: a melodic musing of bludgeoned textures of musical wit that a young Nick Cave would have been proud of.
The Little Ones – ‘Ordinary Song’
If there was ever a song to sum-up the wishful Californian Dream and deluded West Coast ideals, The Little Ones intend to flaunt it to the masses.
On face value, ‘Ordinary Song’ is immediately endearing: brooding depictions of wanderlust are emoted over Shins-esque surf shack symbolism and a Happy Days theme of simplicity; however, it is these elements that can make it instantaneously likable so blatantly ironic, detestable and as damp as a moistened flannel.
The Beach Boys lived the life and sang the songs when it meant something and we have felt sun-kissed ever since. ‘Ordinary Song’ is exactly what is says on the tin: generically bland pop loops that The Thrills would be proud of producing for the OC loving generation.
SaidMike – ‘Stop The Clocks’
It’s hard to believe that these clean-cut Emo-poppers are from Pontypridd and not some synthetic and symmetrical suburb of middleclass America. (Tom Jones was born nearby in the village of Trefforest, but he still sang with his heredity at heart!)
The equation is simple: short, sharp verses breaking into tumultuously juggernauting choruses backed by shrill, faux-American vocals. What has been produced is a very zealous, tight, and teenage angst-ridden EP; but what it lacks is genuine originality.
They are not the only band to be condemned from the South Wales post-innovative hardcore scene, but where as the likes of Lost Prophets and Funeral For A Friend have contrived a career out the lost and found youth of today, SaidMike will struggle.
We can all sit comfortably on our high horses these days, hastily jumping to the gun in blaming peers and parents; but one may be forgiven for passing such judgement when it is known that drummer, Dane, is the son of Motorhead’s Phil Campbell. Like father, like son.
Skibunny – ‘Aah Ooh’ 
Better known for their club nights under the same moniker, Skibunny are making another go of it since their numerous Peel Sessions appearances and Melody Maker (a little trip down Nostalgia Lane for you) single of the week.
Floating comfortably somewhere between The Orb and Four Tet, Skibunny’s ‘Aah Ooh’ hovers with an air of contentment upon a cloud of euphoria. The sound is circa-1990 electro, the buzz word is ecstasy and arms and minds are reaching out to ethereal gods.
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