Thomas A. Ward - Freelance Journalist

NEW BLOG.

2009-11-17T12:38:00.002Z

Please visit http://thomasaward.wordpress.com

A Grave With No Name - Interview

2009-11-13T19:08:00.004Z

Scales from the crypt - Everyone digs the deathly serious A Grave With No Name

Alex Shields, the prime mover and orchestrator behind London’s A Grave With No Name, shifts awkwardly as the photographer cajoles him into position. The flash, illuminating his pallid complexion, candidly captures his inability to conform to such social norms as he shuffles uncomfortably in the wake of his shadow. “I don’t really relate to that many people to be honest with you,” he explains timidly as he rustles through a bag of nuts and raisins. “I kind of keep myself to myself, but then a part of me hates that: I understand that I have to make an effort in life and with people… so that’s why I make music, it’s the only language I can speak in really.”

From the isolation of his bedroom, with his instruments, an eight-track and an understanding of melody, Alex has crafted a debut album, Mountain Debris, that sits in purgatory between the earthly melancholy of lo-fi grunge and celestial shoegaze. Its fractured sonic and visual aesthetic seems to explore the thin, fragile line between heaven and here. “I really believe that, and it sounds a touch pretentious, but melody and sound can be transcendental,” Alex explains earnestly. “[The album] is meant to take you on a journey and just be inside… It’s a world that I have created and I’m slightly fascinated as to how people react to it.”

For Alex and his bandmates, who are part of his live set-up – Thomas King (bass) and Anupa Madawela (drums) – this year has seen the release of a split 7” with Natural Numbers, an eponymous EP that sold out, and a warm reception by almost everyone who has stumbled into their world. And a tour supporting similarly haze-infatuated friends The Big Pink has furthered Mountain Debris’s chances of success when it is released November 30. “Going on tour with The Big Pink was the most fucking fun I have ever had in my life and you don’t get that unless you are in a band,” Alex reminisces with a wide-eyed excitement, “but [being in a band] means fuck all to me. It is literally about making music that is good and actually stays true to what I believe in.”

As you’d guess from their name, it’s hard to find any defining identity within Mountain Debris except for that of your own. The brittle beauty of the record creates fissures in the surface of reality only to be swamped with psychedelic solitude and melodic detail; what gravitates towards a certain sadness in sound is only uplifted by the grace that is distilled within its recording and your resulting mind’s voyage. Or, as Alex puts it: “There is beautiful melancholy and then there is self pity and I think that it resides on it being that kind of inspirational melancholy where you find beauty in art as opposed to the self absorbing side of it.”

Miike Snow – ‘Miike Snow’ album review

2009-11-09T12:00:00.002Z

Two Swedes and an American walk into a bar, sit down and order their drinks. The two Swedes are lost for words and out of work. “I don’t get it,” one says to the other, “we’ve written and produced for the likes of Madonna, Kyle and Jennifer Lopez. We’ve even won a Grammy for Britney’s ‘Toxic’, and we still can’t find work.”

The American then pipes up: “Well I’m buggered then, I’ve only worked with Daniel Merriweather.”

It’s a bad joke for sure, but you at least get the picture of what we are dealing with here. Stockholm-based producing team Christian Karlsson and Pontus Winnberg, better known as Bloodshy & Avant, the men who took Spears all the way to the top before she tied the knot, got up the duff, went mental and reached for the shears. Well, they’ve teamed up with American Andrew Wyatt, whose CV includes working with Mark Ronson (famed for plagiarising and over producing) on Daniel Merriweather’s Love & War, in order to claim all copyrights on their colour-by-numbers electro-pop debut as musical enigma, Miike Snow.

And as far as hard times go, the music industry is really suffering at the moment. Illegal downloading, a recession, and another round of Louis Walsh’s performing pets John and Edward in the X-Factor, even I’m starting to worry for Simon and his gossamer of credibility; even I’m starting to think that they are making a mockery of the show. So when there is literally no talent to cash in on, it’s no wonder producers decide to start polishing their own turds in hope of the Midas touch.

Pissing up the post of Radio 1’s playlist won’t have done their image any harm either, especially as their eponymous album swims in a slipstream of Drive Time discothèque. ‘Black & Blue’ and ‘Animal’ pulsate with rousing piano-led choruses, auto-tuned falsettos and memorable melodies, but an album full of padded-pop equivalents leaves it somewhat of a throwaway listen.

With an equal weighting of pensive lyrical lines and mediocre dancefloor fizz, listening to Miike Snow turns out to be as simulating as listening to your best mate drunkenly sob about how he thinks his girlfriend is cheating on him while you’re all on a lads holiday in Ibiza. And if you do enjoy said vocations in Ibiza and music to be indifferent towards, then you’ll be happy washing your sins in the likes of this as you’ve probably bedded the girlfriend yourself.

Julian Casablancas – ‘11th Dimension’

2009-11-09T11:57:00.003Z

When The Strokes broke through at the start of the millennia, Casablancas single-handedly mapped out a new direction in metronomic melody in rock n roll; but behind the media pretension, image and artistry of ‘Is This It’, its decidedly pop presentation delineated to the direction that he and the band would take.

And not since the compressed Casio rhythms of ‘Room On Fire’ has Casablancas sounded so cool, comfortable and calculated. Accentuated Eighties synths punch holes into the songs structure for Julian to hang his idiosyncratic drawl mellifluously in an ether of surreptitiously layered guitar hooks and industrious beats. Pop so precise you’ll almost forgive him for the Europe-esque inquisition.

Hanne Hukkelberg – The Borderline, London – October 26th, 2009

2009-11-09T11:54:00.002Z

As the air is painted with the pastel sounds of seashell recordings, Hanne Hukkelberg and fellow Norwegian band mates bumble around the stage nomadically trying to set up for the night’s proceedings. Despite the warm ambience that has been set in the room for this, her only tour date in the UK, the atmosphere on stage is tense as the perpetual battle between sound engineer and musician is lost in translation over technicalities, only to end in furrowed brows and shrugged shoulders on both sides.

However, as the crowd ruminates to the aural undulations that allude to Hanne’s entrance, all has not been lost in the patient anticipation that is felt from the humble gathering in attendance. Stepping coyly onto the stage with an empty wine glass in hand to open with the brooding thrum of ‘Bandy Riddles’, it becomes clear how captivating Hukkelberg is as a performer. As her vocal reaches far beyond her petite figure, the Norwegian singer-songwriter sheds singing styles like a Russian Doll: crooning with a jazz fluidity through the likes of ‘Cheater’s Armoury’ to the angelic swoon of ‘Blood From A Stone’ to the rasping rock abrasions of ‘In Here/Out There’, Hanne may appear to be floating in a pool of indefinable influences; however she uses this eclectic appeal to great effect, holding the crowd with an attentive, appreciative string throughout as they applaud tardily after each song with open-mouthed admiration.

Returning to the stage for an encore of ‘Ticking Bomb’, she beats metronomically at the wine glass with which she entered. With the chalice withstanding, her face contorts and cracks discomfortingly as to evoke her own thought and feeling behind the song’s underlying detail and not the glass’ frangibility, it’s her shattered mosaic of melodic jazz and dissipated pop experiments that ring soundly on the night and travel tangibly beyond any possible language barriers.

Mountains Interview

2009-11-09T11:45:00.004Z

Shifting Sonic Landscapes

Brendon Anderegg and Koen Holtkamp, better known as Mountians, have created quite the sonic stir since their eponymous debut album was released in 2005. Each with respective solo projects to their name and a joint record label venture in the form of Apestaartje, their collaboration as Mountains has garnered them underground acclaim around their adopted home town of Brooklyn with their fusion of minimalist electronica, serene samples, blissful acoustics and DIY recordings.

Their latest release, ‘Etching’ (Thrill Jockey Recordings), was recorded in real time, and opens up their composed aural calm as a preview to their European tour that starts October 31 in Dublin. Ahead of their London show at the Slaughtered Lamb, The Quietus caught up with Koen to see what was behind the ether of their music.

**How did you both meet and unite over this style of music?**
Koen Holtkamp: We've been friends since middle school. We initially came together because of shared interests in skateboarding and visual art. We ended up going to the same art school in Chicago and both kind of gravitated towards the sound department. Mountains started a few years after that when we were both living in Brooklyn and wanted to start a more live oriented project after focusing mainly on the studio for a few years.

**I've been listening to your albums ‘Choral’ and ‘Etching’, and I have to admit, I got pretty lost within them - in a sense of depth and journey. Is this something that you set out to do? Does your music depict anything in particular or is it up to the listener to decide?**
KH: We have a tendency to shift in dynamics from more quiet intricate moments to more dense and over saturated at times, going from pulling the listener in to filling the space with sound. A certain kind of linear development. Generally the music we make tends to have a gradual pace and focus on detail; we try to keep it open-ended enough for the listeners to come up with their own interpretation.

**Do you use your music as a vessel for your own mind's travel?**
KH: This is not necessarily how I would define it but I do certainly hear sounds in my head and enjoy trying to recreate them.

**And your record label Apestaartje: is there meaning by the name Apestaartje?**
KH: Apestaartje means 'little monkeys tail'. It's the nickname the Dutch use for the @ symbol. Symbol to identify a location, a label being a location for music. I'm from The Netherlands originally and wanted to include something from my background.

**It reads as if you never intended to reproduce what you created collaboratively on a live scale until you came out under the name out Mountains. Is this the case?**
KH: Yes. Mountains was conceived for live performance. We'd done mostly studio-oriented work up to that point and when we tried to recreate these pieces live it always felt like there was something missing. So Mountains was about creating pieces specifically for performance. The idea to make records came later.

**How does the live set work? How do you recreate what is on record in a live setting? Or is it a different concept?**
KH: It's backwards. We loosely compose a piece to be performed. Then we play it for a tour or certain number of shows refining it a little each time. When we feel like it's reached a certain point we record it and then generally do not perform it again. So we never really play the pieces from our records by the time they're out.

**You live in Brooklyn, but there is a great sense of nature within your music. How does your music reside in the verve of the natural world considering your surrounds? How do you go about getting the samples?**
KH: I don't see our music as reactionary but perhaps it's an escape for some people and I'm ok with that. Neither of us grew up in a particularly urban environment so I think our sense of space comes from somewhere else. In terms of the field recordings we generally just make recordings for fun when we hear something we find interesting and then some if it works it's way into the music.

**What is it about the blend of acoustic and experimental electronic music that draws you to it? How do you get the balance?**
KH: It's a blend we were naturally drawn to. The acoustic instruments have such a rich overall sound and electronics have such a diverse range of manipulation possibilities. We spend a lot of time on the sound of each minor element.

**Have you ever considered collaborating with a vocalist? Would you use it lyrically or as another instrument? Is there a message in your music already?**
KH: If it were the right vocalist. We're planning to have some friends contribute to our next record so I think they'll be some surprises, but I'm pretty sure that will not include lyrics.

**Where do you even begin in starting a track and finishing? Do you already have a vision with the way it travels?**
KH: Usually we'll improvise on a certain tuning and slowly we develop that into more specific parts.

**Where does your musical background come from? Who/what is it that influences your sound?**
KH: My musical background is mainly as a listener. I had been working with sound for a few years but I didn't start playing music until my early twenties. Brendon has been playing various instruments as long as I've known him.

**‘Etching’ is a real time recording: how is it in producing the album? Again, did you have a vision at the time? Was it more experimental and free forming?**
KH: It's basically a recording of one of our practice sessions for a tour we were about to do. We record pretty much all of our sessions and this was our favourites so we sold it as a tour CDR at some shows in the US. The response was really positive so we thought we'd do a limited vinyl release to represent this phase of the band on a slightly larger scale.

**Your sound is quite cinematic, and not necessarily something aural - something visual. Have you ever thought about applying what you do to the screen? Something visual?**
KH: Brendon has done soundtracks for several pretty awesome documentaries in the last couple years. I made a video out of footage shot between shows when we were on tour and we've performed to that a few times. It's an abstracted road movie of sorts.

**There is a great deal of space and freedom in your orchestrations. How do you avoid adding too much, yet still create such texture?**
KH: We spend a lot of time on our overall sound. I think the fact that the two of us play a lot of similar instruments helps us achieve a full but detailed sound. We use a lot of layering, sampling ourselves, building up dense layers of sound and sculpting them via filters and other electronics in real time. Most of our pieces are fairly gradual. Spending time with something tends to give it more definition.

**What can the readers expect from your live performance on your new tour?**
KH: It's our first set without computers... a bit more raw, but I think it still really sounds like us. We've only played it a few times so we're pretty psyched to try it out in some different spaces. Other than that we have some touring and probably another record coming out next year but that's all still in the works.

Geoff Barrow Interview - BEAK>/Portishead

2009-11-09T11:40:00.003Z

Geoff Barrow: the industry is full of “fucking idiots and some total geniuses”

When the news was announced that Kurt Cobain had died in 1994, the genre of Grunge was soon to follow in the eyes of the music press. Loud, long-haired Americans and their disciples where cajoled and condemned back into the ignominious underworld, as the new music media – seemingly overnight – coined a new phrase and phenomenon to alight the commercially servile public with a passion for a fashion.

Britpop’s juncture in the wake of Grunge changed Britain. The chinks in Conservatism’s armour where filled with the blue-collared grout of Labour’s hope, as the likes of Oasis and Blur penned working class stadium anthems to unite a nation in crapulous embrace.

As much as Britpop orchestrated the decade’s zeitgeist, not all the music of the time was of buoyant optimism. Portishead’s ‘Dummy’ went against the grain in 1994 in so many ways; unconcerned with gritty guitars, anthemic prosperity and celebrity enterprise, the band refused interviews, preferring to remain veiled behind their heavily produced and ruminating sound that was later to be defined as Trip Hop.

‘Dummy’ became a landmark album in 1995 when it pipped Oasis’ ‘Definitely Maybe’ and Supergrass’ ‘I Should Coco’ to the Mercury Music Prize, selling two million copies in Europe alone. The tortures of touring and publicity caused the band to remove themselves from the public eye for three years until the release of their eponymous second; and a further 11 years for the group to reform and produce 2008’s ‘Third’.

For someone that is a consumed perfectionist, producer/instrumentalist Geoff Barrow’s new project BEAK> finds himself not only going against the grain of prevailing trends once again, but his against his own musical progression and ethic. Along with Bristol-based musicians Billy Fuller and Matt Williams, their debut album entitled ‘Recordings 05/01/09 > 17/01/09’ was written and recorded in 12 days at SOA Studios with no overdubs or repairs. The result of which is the sum of its parts: musicians emancipated from musical structure only to be concerned with the assimilated texture and propagation of experimental sound.

Talking to The Quietus following one-off gigs in Paris and Berlin, Geoff Barrow explains all about his musical transformation in the form of BEAK>, how easy it was to record their debut in 12 days, why the industry is full of “fucking idiots and some total geniuses”, and what’s happening with Portishead’s fourth album now they are free from record company restraint.

**Hello Geoff. How has your time been performing in Paris and Berlin? It must be strange touring with another unit?**
Geoff Barrow: Yeah it’s alright. I mean we got the synths in a suitcase on easyJet and got a back line and stuff. It’s nice not to have a fuss, where we can just have it all set up in 20 minutes and we can play without a PA so it’s kind of nice ‘cos we just stick the vocals through an amp like we did on the album. It’s good; it’s nice to see it as it really is.

**How did you guys get together?**
GB: Billy [Fuller] plays in a band called Fuzz Against Funk who are on Invada, and Matt [Williams] who is Team Brick records for Invada. We were at an Invada New Year’s party and we did a thing called the Invada Acid Trance where lots of people on Invada just jam together for an hour, two hours, whatever. Bill played bass, I played drums, and Matt played clarinet.

Matt had played on the last Portishead album and we were just like let’s go do it. I’ve always really liked what both of them have done, so it just seemed like the right thing to do.

**You decided to record this album in 12 days. The last Portishead album took 11 years to release. What made you decide to do this so quickly?**
GB: It’s just different things for different bands really. [Pauses] It’s just kind of like if Portishead wanted to record in 12 days we would love to, I mean it’s just a different set of, I don’t know… rules, because you just want to write some more music. But I kind of had to switch one part of my brain off really, which had been annoying me for some time really…

**Which part was that?**
GB: It’s like the side where you are so over analytical about things that it kind of stops you from doing anything. So for me it was a really good thing.

Ade’s [Adrian Utley] been out playing with different people… we all do stuff outside of Portishead, producing records and so forth. It’s just another thing for us to do, I mean, we’re all into different things. And just because it’s another record it just seems that it’s related to Portishead in that way. Whereas if you produce records or play gigs, it’s maybe not seen in the same way.

**BEAK> has been a great step away from Portishead in many ways: what are your musical influences in making the record?**
GB: It was a case of we didn’t talk about anything really. We just knew what each other kind of liked and just got shut up in a room, put the levels up, mics up, and no fucking about.

The first track was the first track on the album and that was it. We just didn’t really talk about it really, I mean the record that we played once halfway through the session on day six was like The Plastic People of the Universe, and Billy hadn’t heard of them and that was kind of it. It just comes from a world that we’re all excited about, so we weren’t going to have an influences kind of chat. We were all into it. We just kind of shut up and away we went.

**So was it as fluid as it sounds? Was it a tough 12 days?**
GB: No. We worked from kind of midday ‘til seven o’clock so I could go home and put the kids to bed. We could have kept on going back over it with the torment and turmoil because you feel that it warrants a bit more of something; but just because it was easier, doesn’t mean that it was a throwaway record.

For us it’s a record that we really like the sounds of. In the past we have all made multilayered records and this was kind of slightly a reaction against that. What would happen was that we would play a tune and usually for me and Billy it would be like that’s alright and then we can start adding stuff; but Matt was already on a computer really bored of it going ‘No well it’s done isn’t it?’ because he comes from a one take avant-garde style background where he never repeats himself again. So we all decided it sounds alright and that it was done.

**It must be hard for a musician to know when you are finished?**
GB: Yeah, but it was actually really refreshing. We knew that there were imperfections, but that is what gives a face character. So it was the same with us: our out of tuneness or our wonkiness made it us. It didn’t go into Protools for some Swedish guys to then put it all in time [laughs].

So it was kind of rough and ready and a reaction to music that you hear on the radio. People like yourself are aware of albums that happen like this all the time, but not many people are and just hear “Sex On Fire” or whatever it’s called, and you just hear this enormous sound with everything in its right place but it’s just nice to have something that isn’t.

I don’t know if that is refreshing for anyone else but it definitely was for us. We’ve kind of renamed the genre ‘Regressive Rock’ [laughs].

**It is, like you say, regressive in comparison to other end products that we are used to from yourself and what we hear on the radio at the moment…**
GB: I mean not everything is, and obviously there are some really good albums out there, but the majority of what you here on the radio is.

I mean how we did it was just [pauses]… amazingly easy. The writing process was just a flow of consciousness with three different vocal mics going through a guitar amp in the room so we could hear ourselves sing. I mean we would probably do three or four takes on some stuff, and just kind of go ‘Oh well the first one was better, but the lyrics were fucked but it doesn’t really matter, forget it anyway’ [laughs]. I don’t mean for that to seem like it was some kind of throwaway project.

**I was reading a few news feeds and comments on the album…**
GB: Have you seen any reviews out there?

**Funnily enough, there was one post on Drowned In Sound saying something along the lines of ‘Well done for ripping of The Horrors’ and I found this hilarious, as you had produced their last album. As a side, how was it working with them?**
GB: The Horrors knew exactly what they were doing, I’ll just say that right from the off. I just kind of helped out on that record – if I had a traditional production role, I don’t know? I did most of the mixes and sat through all the recordings, but they gave me a CD of pretty much every single one of those tunes as it sounds on the final record.

I was away on holiday in Portugal and took one of their CDs and there were god knows how many tunes there were… loads! All I said was that they needed to record them properly, not get over commercialised sonically and just be confident about what they were doing. I know they wanted to experiment a lot more and really they have done it themselves in their own rehearsal studio.

Some of the recordings were actually from their room. I think myself, Craig Silvey and Chris Cunningham didn’t really do anything really [laughs]. They knew what they were doing and people think that they are style over content because of the way they dress and shit, you know what I mean? But they really had it nailed and they turned me onto so much music that I had never really heard of, like really avant-garde stuff. They are real record collectors and always have been.

I think myself lucky to have worked with two bands that have so much talent and are mad record collectors, and that’s The Horrors and Coral and you wouldn’t think that about them at all.

I mean literally, when they were recording the record they would be sat on the settee with five laptops and it would just be churning. You could hear their laptops straining with files, music and stuff that they were buying off eBay and God knows what. It was just unbelievable.

**You have made a reputation, especially over the last decade, of being this faceless entity behind music, co-founding trip-hop and the ‘Bristol Sound’ of the mid Nineties, and generally going against the grain of popular music at the time. Your new project BEAK> defines this somewhat. What are your opinions of the music industry at the moment?**
GB: I think at the moment, everyone is entitled to do whatever they want at any point. The industry is struggling to make money like any business is. I think that there are some total fucking idiots and some total geniuses working at every level.

The industry is in a bit of a mess where the great unwashed haven’t bought records since Oasis, and I do include myself in that [laughs]. But it’s one of those things where if we don’t have another Arctic Monkeys where the hits are at, they won’t go out and buy it. It’s like anything that people are into; they’ll spend their money on films or in Ikea. It just depends.

It’s just like people that are around my age – I’m 37 now – who were really into music like Joy Division and Factory [Records] or whatever it was, have kind of cut off all their outlets to hearing new music. You would think that it would be easier with the Internet, but maybe it is more daunting for people because there is so much.

I run a label [Invada Records] and it kind of struggles along, but if a good record comes along and someone gets hold of it, it can make money for the band but not enough to pay their rent for the year. I just don’t know how it’s all going to work out.

**There is a great sense of freedom within the ‘BEAK>’ album, do you think that this is going to replay into the new Portishead material? You’re without any ties to a record company at the moment, it must feel quite liberating?**
GB: We’re just talking to the majors at the moment, indie figures and loads of people really. It might do, but I doubt it [laughs]. We’ll just try and write it as quickly as we can, but it’s all about inspiration and whether you’re happy with yourself. If you can come up with the stuff you like then it’s fine. I don’t think that I have lowered my expectations or anything; I just think that Portishead is this dysfunctional relationship. No, dysfunctional, not relationship, because that sounds like we don’t get on; it’s like a dysfunctional family that basically just find it difficult to create something that we all enjoy together.

**So are we talking another 11 years to see another album?**
GB: No, it’s just that I gave up music for five years, so the album only took about four years in total. But I guess when you’re trying to reinvent the wheel… [laughs]. I don’t think we did it – don’t get me wrong, I don’t rate myself that highly – but when you come up with something that you are finally happy with, it’s ok.

We didn’t want to repeat ourselves [with ‘Third’], but it was really difficult sometimes: if you want to do something different, you really can’t because it doesn’t sound like you; so when you don’t sound like what you like about yourself, you end up writing stuff that you hate. It was like eating a curry and puking it up and eating it again [laughs].

**Beautiful imagery, Geoff. So have you started writing anything for the fourth album yet?**
GB: No, no. We’ve got a lot of ideas, but it’s all brain stuff and notes knocking about.

**What about BEAK> then? Is this a one off project or are you looking to move on to other stuff?**
GB: No, no. I think the way that Portishead works is that we do have gaps in between our work and stuff, and as long as the other guys are happy to do it then we’ll do it again. Whether it takes 12 days or not is different, but we were just jamming around the other day in rehearsal and it was sounding good as a new track.

It might become a multilayered synthesiser record, we just don’t know at the moment, but we are going to do it again. We’re going to go on tour at some point in December so it’s all good.

**You haven’t played in the UK yet, are you looking forward to your debut at ATP’s Tenth Birthday?**
GB: Yeah, but we’ll be playing the night before at the Garage, London, before that.

**Are you looking forward to getting back and playing on the UK scene?**
GB: Err, yeah, to be honest the English scene is, like, I don’t know… a bit fucking shit! It’s something about England: I think a lot of bands on a small level feel it all the time.

The British music scene is pretty amazing in that it reinvents itself all the time and breaks it down in the space of two days in the constant search for something new. But I think that it’s eaten it’s own bum at the moment and can’t seem to break out of it’s own negativity at the moment and it’s just really odd.

It’s just a very peculiar time and it just needs to believe that something is going to happen. I’m probably the wrong person to say, because I’m not checking out new bands all the time and there is probably some really good stuff happening, but there is that belief that people don’t support other bands though in the UK.

The thing is, with the likes of The Maccabees and The Horrors, I really expected them to be played on Radio 1. They have both produced amazing second albums and there is something quite special about them. The industry needs to get behind these bands and give it the daytime, as it is the best of new British music, but they just won’t – they’ll be lucky if they get a spot play of 6music. What the fuck is that about?

**Is new British music about whoever wins the next X Factor then?**
GB: I don’t know, but the alternative music scene in the UK has been squeezed down, especially when it comes down to the media like TV or radio. All the indie bands are scrambling over each other like rats in a rubbish tip to try and get at one can of mackerel and they are eating each other to do it.

If the level in the media was slightly pushed up a bit, so instead of like Little Boots, it was like The Horrors on Jonathan Ross – I mean, open it up a bit so that real people who will go out and buy records will go out and buy their record instead of the shit from X Factor so that we can support our industry again.

We kind of need to have another Arctic Monkeys to get behind.

Volcano Choir Interview

2009-11-09T11:18:00.003Z

Wanderers Are Not Always Lost

To the listener and producer, music can be a very cathartic experience; but for the musician to reach out and empathetically tangle the attentive within their emotive orchestrations is something of a talent. Justin Vernon’s shattered existence following the break-up of his band DeYarmond Edison and the loss of a love resulted in a bout of mononucleosis and societal detachment, but also the opus for a broken man’s resurrection and reconnection with the outside world.

We will never fully understand the depths to which Vernon sank in order to create something of such compositional beauty that ‘For Emma, Forever Ago’ would form, but the frangible pieces of his shell that were puzzled together in his father’s cabin in the quiet north woods of Wisconsin caused something of an irreverent stir amongst critique and customer.

The forlorn and ethereal tenderness that undulated from his sentimental falsetto and folk demure culminated in a meteoric rise to fame, but what drew us into the wistful charms of the records loving arms was the relation to, and understanding and of, a splintered heart that quivered within it’s musical threate. We lived, breathed and travelled the ruminating soul that unravelled and unmapped before us.

Almost as a prelude to this journey taken, his new collaboration with fellow Wisconsinites and “favourite band”, Collection of Colonies of Bees, Volcano Choir unearth paths less travelled with ‘Unmap’: a brooding debut of experimental sound and vision. Along with guitarist Chris Rosenau, Volcano Choir have unveiled a convulsive and radiating symposium of twists and turns that, for those of us who are willing to wander in parallel to its voyage, may be left entwined within its intimate and creative bond.

The Quietus caught up with Chris Rosenau (molecular biologist by day; brooding experimental musician by night) on his lunch break in order to unravel a timeline of events and original songwriting that dates back to the summer of 2005, when a unity was formed and ideas began to gather over the Internet.

**So how do you go from your day job to this brooding prog-rock sound that you have been developing through Collection of Colonies of Bees and, now, Volcano Choir?**
Chris Rosenau: [laughs] It’s totally in parallel. I’ve been in bands and playing music since high school and college. I went to school to be a molecular biologist, and my hobby has just been music. It’s a little weird though: I don’t meet many other molecular biologists on tour or at music festivals, but you know it’s the same thing as everyone else working during the day and trying to make a go of it with music at night.

**So what are your influences in creating this very progressive sound?**
CR: I’ve been influenced by a lot of things that kind of inform the way that I play. With all the bands like Pele and Vermont there was a lot of influence from the Chicago post-rock scene, but in particular bands like Don Caballero: Ian Williams was a big influence of mine. Also bands like Gastr Del Soul, Jim O’Rourke and David Grubbs, but especially, perhaps even back further than that, people who influenced them like Don Stacy… but I don’t want to pigeonhole it too much.

Recently, the Bees have been trying to screw around with some minimalist composer ideas like Terry Riley and Steve Reich. That’s the new thing that we are trying to explore right now, how to incorporate that kind of compositional minimalism into a total full blown rock band. I think it’s those kinds of things that are evident when you listen to stuff that I’m involved with.

**How did Collection of Colonies of Bees come together?**
CR: It’s really been an evolving project literally about 10 or 11 years. It started out as a side project when Jon [Mueller, percussionist], and I were in Pele. It’s kind of funny because Pele’s live shows were more rock-based, so I started the Bees as a way to experiment with more acoustic types of music, like all of my first records were all acoustic-based. Then over the years we didn’t have an outlet for the acoustic live show, so Bees kind of transformed itself into this gigantic rock band now. It’s just been this outlet for a lot of different music ideas I’ve had, and it’s constantly evolved over the years.

**How did you come to first meeting Justin?**
We met through a mutual friend, Thomas Wincek [piano, guitar, electronic], who’s in the Bees now but he wasn’t at the time. He lives in Eau Claire, Wisconsin, where Justin is from. The other guys from the band that Justin was in, DeYarmond Edison, were really into a Bees album that we had done called ‘Customer’ and he was like ‘Hey, I know two of these guys, I’ll put you in touch with them and maybe you can play a few shows together.’

So they got in touch with us and we played a gig in Eau Claire and had a blast and hung out all night. From there we kept in touch and played shows around the mid-west in the States and did some tours. It was a case of close proximity; I don’t know if it would have been easy to meet up if we were across coasts or something like that. But we were all in Wisconsin so it was like a four hour drive to meet up and play a show and hang out, and we just ended up hitting it off with those guys over the next couple of years.

**There is a lot of crossover between yours and Bon Iver’s music with this very forlorn, spatial sound. Is there something over in the water over there?**
CR: (laughs) Yeah, I can see that, but I don’t know. It’s very weird timing for sure.

**Your music is very experimental in the way that it is orchestrated, but you’ve never used vocal before. What was the allure of Justin for you?**
CR: It was really great for us in the way that Justin approached this record. We are always interested in new things and exploring traditional instrumentation in different ways so this was a great way to do that. When you think of a vocalist you think of this guy standing up in the middle of the stage singing words about something.

Justin is a friend first and foremost, so we started sending ideas back and forth; some stuff was even recorded before we met him, and he just came back with this really interesting vocal approach that everyone is familiar with now. He was sending stuff back and we were really in love with his approach because while it is vocal, it is more focused on the melody and the more percussive aspects of the rhythmic stuff, so it kind of lends itself as another instrument.

Even when there are lyrics and stuff, at least for me, they are not in the foreground; I just really like the way that he approaches his vocals in melding it into the song and changing the song like another instrument would. I just think that we all got off on the way that it all worked from the beginning.

**Justin has given you quite the commercial backing in celebrating Collection of Colonies of Bees as his favourite band, and stating that in a perfect world you would be bigger than U2. How does that feel?**
CR: I’m kind of happy that someone digs our music [laughs]. It just happens to be that he has this new strange influence at this point. If he digs it and can turn people onto it it’s cool.

One of the things about him recording under the Volcano Choir project is that I like the idea of him being able to turn people onto different things through this safe doorway of his vocals. So I think if people can get exposed to all sorts of different music, I think that is a really positive thing.

**There is a great deal of solitude and ruminating feel to the record, backed by a somewhat religious feel – where exactly do the album’s roots stem from?**
CR: I think you’ve really hit on it there and I’m glad that you are hearing that in the record because that’s kind of the way that it was made. This record has kind of been this whole construction, deconstruction, addition, and subtraction experiment for the past three or so years. When I hear the record I hear this intent in the musical space, but then all this stuff happening in the non-musical spaces. The record was probably recorded in ten different spaces with all sorts of different people.

Tom Winseck had a guy out recording the sound of a field whilst recording guitar stuff at some point, so the feel is just the culmination of this creative process of editing and adding and everything by everybody.

The project up until last year was a tape-trading project by friends. We had this FTP site and we would put stuff up for Justin to work on, and he would do the same, so that we could work on ideas. So I think that all these songs stem from friends just trying to kick each other’s ass musically. Really, that’s all it was – there was no plan, there was no Volcano Choir while this stuff was being played with.

At the same time it was this kind of safe place for everyone to play around because there was no goal. Everyone just wanted to see what we could do with the other’s stuff. I hope their does sound like there is a lot of time encapsulated into those songs because there was. It’s definitely a travelling timeline.

There is a really great friendship and brotherhood that has come out of the record, so it’s fun to have this new type of thing to have and play around with. I know Justin has the same view and it’s given him this new confidence to go forward from Bon Iver. It’s kind of this free space that we have all grown to love operating in.

**Do you know of anything that is happening with Bon Iver at the moment?**
CR: Yeah, he’s definitely got some stuff in the works for sure. I haven’t heard any of it but Dan Spack [guitar] has been up in Eau Claire and heard a bunch of it. So Justin is definitely recording, but I also know that he has been going 110 per cent for two years so he’s probably going to be laying low for a couple of months trying to get his head straight and write some new songs and everything.

**Do you think that there is going to be any possibility of Volcano Choir touring? I can imagine it’s going to be hard to replicate what you have put on record.**
CR: We’ve been talking about it a lot. The short answer is yes we hope so because we would really love to try and present this stuff live. It gets a little complicated with everyone’s schedules, especially Justin’s. Then to compound that with the way that the record has been made – none of these songs have been played in the same place, by the same people at the exact same time.

We really want to do it right, so if we can get the time and get this ship together so we are happy with it, we’ll be hoping to do some show next year. Like I’ve said, it’s just about hanging out and having fun and that would definitely be a different way for us to experience the record that we made, and I think that it would be really fun for everybody involved.

**Will you be taking your ‘Mother’ pillow on tour?**
CR: (laughs) This is a great story and Jon Mueller is going to kill me for this: We were playing a show in Grinnell, Iowa, with Pele and I was really done for the evening. It was like four in the morning – one of those kinds of nights – so I headed back to the hotel.

Jon was planning to go out to some place else, so we had to leave him some kind of signal of where we were in the hotel. So whatever state I was in, I took one of the hotel pillows and wrote ‘Mother’ on it and hung it on the door handle. It’s just been like one of these weird things that have travelled with us ever since. Everyone got back home safe and sound in the end so it’s all good – into ‘Mother’s’ arm I should say.

**So what does the future hold for you with the Bees and Volcano Choir?**
CR: As far as the Bees are concerned, we are half way through recording our new record right now and will be finishing that up in the next six months.

Volcano Choir: I think it is definitely going to continue along the exact same path that it started and we have been working on. I’ve already sent those guys some new ideas for some songs that everyone seems into so it’s kind of like starting over again. ‘Unmap’ exists so we’re starting over again and seeing what happens.

We all have a really great time working together and really trying to challenge each other, so I see no reason why that would stop. There is no timeline for us, which really worked for all of us so we will probably try and do it all that way again. I have no idea what is going to happen and what everyone is going to be busy with, but we are definitely making it a priority to hang out once in a while and when we do, definitely more music will be being made.

Kings Of Convenience – ‘Declaration Of Dependence’ album review

2009-10-22T12:04:00.001+01:00

Upon the release of their debut album ‘Quiet Is The New Loud’, Kings Of Convenience were seen to be at the forefront of a refulgent New Acoustic Movement in 2001, burgeoning at the hands of the Astralwerks record label. Along with the likes of Turin Brakes, the folk duos orchestrated simply serene undulations that struck a chord with critics, indie patrons, and parents alike. To couple such acts with the likes of Simon and Garfunkel would not have been seen as a slight against pretension or stereotype – they were simply nice.

Little has changed in their audible output since then. 2004’s ‘Riot On An Empty Street’ may not have had the instant charm and pitter-patter pop of ‘Winning a Battle, Losing a War’ and ‘Toxic Girl’, but the pair’s effortless intuition and adherence to unperturbed structures ruminated with peaceful precision and poise.

After a five-year hiatus, Eirik Glambek Boe and Erlend Oye still strum and pluck away with heartbreaking humility; however, behind the innocence of their unfurling folk tunes and angelic harmonies, lyrically they are not as innocuous as once thought.

Despite their platonic appreciation and unity, there is a great deal of loneliness, in hindsight honesty, and subdued contemplation throughout ‘Declaration Of Dependence’. ‘24-25’ opens with their idiosyncratically mellow movements through constructing arpeggios, unveiling the line “What we build is bigger than the some of two”; the jazzy dalliance of ‘Peacetime Resistance’ nostalgically calls for better days behind a thumping double bass and violin lead; and single ‘Mrs. Cold’ opens the door and deals with relationships lost to its musical ether.

Their ability to write rather bucolic and winsome tunes makes King Of Convenience somewhat of a reliable listen regardless of their content, as ‘Second To Numb’, ‘Riot On An Empty Street’ and ‘Power Of Not Knowing’ tread water with what they have already achieved in the way of diligently structured guitar work and angelic harmonies; however, ‘Declaration’ also sees the denunciation of political zealots veiled behind their softening sound, darkening the playful glee of ‘Rule My World’ with tenebrous asperity and depth: “You set yourself above that all forgiving God you claim that you believe in/Your kind is going to fall, your ship is sinking fast, and all your able men are leaving.” Granted, it is probably the most polite critique of political decision-making to date, with all the bite of the denture-adorned attempting to eat pork, but you get the point.

‘Declaration Of Dependence’ sees the pair strip back much of their sound to something of a comforting coffee shop coupling, simply leaving where they left off with their delicate deliverance and erudite craftsmanship. It might not be one for the protestors to get behind, but it’s certainly one for the parents and the people to enjoy.

Swanton Bombs - 'Doom' review

2009-10-19T16:23:00.002+01:00

Before the recession left the independent music industry with all the monetary prosperity of a colander for a punch bowl at a Skins party, indie commerce was often criticised for making its vesicle of potential upstarts porous upon its own accord. A slew of ciphered fruit and guff discharged into vacuous commercial gaps known as ‘landfill-indie’, and if anything is to be proven by Swanton Bombs’ new single ‘Doom’, the drabness of economical recovery is well on its way. With torpid vocals, aggressively scuffled guitar and punctuated drums, this Essex two-piece stumble with all the garage potential of Brit-pop petrol asphyxiation. Let’s just say that their B-side cover of The Strokes’ ‘New York City Cops’ ain’t so smart.

Vampire Weekend - King's College, London - 15th October 2009

2009-10-19T16:14:00.002+01:00

It comes as no surprise that Vampire Weekend choose to air new material from their forthcoming album ‘Contra’ at King’s College Union. Their eponymous debut infused pop-playfulness, classical arrangements and Afro-beat influences that appeased many of the upper echelons of the Guardian-repenting society that are in attendance tonight, and as Ezra explains halfway through the gig, it’s “like singing for grandma in the living room, because you're so kind!”

For Vampire Weekend defined a time of change within America during their emergence: their erudite and accepting worldview of musical inspiration turned many onto the African warmth of their collegiate sound, almost soundtracking to some extent the link between Conservative White America and their new president elect.

However, for The Whitest Band In The World, tonight is somewhat reserved and bereft of any of the exulting life necessary to get people excited ahead of their 2010 release. Opening with new tracks ‘White Sky’ and ‘Holiday’, Ezra and the band tentatively tiptoe around the stage, giving little to the crowd to feed off of and in volume as he explains that the troupe “are in a transitional phase” before launching into ‘Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa’.

Although the new tracks fall upon deaf ears with rhythmic disarray and, as yet, choral relation with the crowd, it’s the older material that saves the evening for the rather excitable congregation awaiting the hits. ‘One (Blake’s Got A New Face)’, ‘M79’, and ‘Oxford Comma’ result in the crowd politely pogoing in appreciation to what is a rather stumbling gig of nerves stripped back by Koenig’s struggling vocals.

Recent free download ‘Horchata’ strikes a chord sitting in between ‘Mansard Roof’ and ‘Walcott’ in the encore, but it all appears a little too late for band lacking any bite or confidence on the night.

Marina And The Diamonds – Koko, Camden – 13th October 2009

2009-10-14T13:52:00.003+01:00

Taking to the stage within the realms of the rather resplendent Koko, Marina Diamandis cavorts her way across the boards adorned in a knee length Dalmatian-dotted fur coat only to be greeted by a mix of applause and the loquacious undertones of an overlooking crowd.

Unabashed by the apparent disregard, ridiculous attire and her teetering demure upon her posture-distorting heels, she twists are turns her way into a 30-minute set with a bout of histrionic dance moves and octave wavering vocals that soon attract the attention of the audience.

Tonight she plays second headline act on the latest of NME’s Radar Tours, and this year’s insert-female-name-here ‘and the’ insert-inanimate-object-here acts to get commercially wound up in. With the unexplainable success of the likes of Florence and the Machine that have gone before her, Marina’s blend of eccentric chanteuse and showbiz glam appear to be a winning combination and carbon copy of similar acts that have garnered adoration for such pop-pragmatism, however, it’s all a bit smoke and mirrors in light of some bastardised indie X Factor.

Playing to the crowd with great humility and grace, Marina sways from quirky new wave pop akin to Regina Spektor (‘I Am Not A Robot’), synth glam (‘The Shampain Sleeper’), and quaint piano-led outpours (‘Obsession’). A cover of Late Of The Pier’s ‘Space In The Woods’ wins the biggest applause of the night as she finishes with her latest single ‘Mowgli’s Road’, that treads the boards of Lene Lovich kook with all the cuckoos and banshee wails of an artist stepping – and often as not, dropping to her knees for dramatic effect – into an easily marketable pigeonhole already stuffed with unappealing feathers.

BEAK> - ‘BEAK>’ album review

2009-10-12T13:10:00.003+01:00

Following the ethnic slur that coined the new genre of experimental music that marched drudgingly out of Germany circa 1960, ‘Krautrock’ did well to soundtrack the mechanical existence of a country still in recovery. An amalgamation of Anglo-American post-psychedelic jamming and moody prog-rock mixed with contemporary experimental classical music and freeform jazz that eluded from the Berlin divide, the likes of Tangerine Dream, Faust, Kraftwerk, Can and Neu! did well to orchestrate an epoch that was the antipode of Britain’s “swinging” decade, with one that was ruminated with feeling following social deconstruction and liberal construction following the war.

Its influences have more recently come into commercial contact within such acts as The Horrors, giving them a surprise change of direction and critical kudos compared to the style over content of their debut; however, much of what was created would not have been produced had it not been for Portishead’s Geoff Barrow being on hand as an influential guise and guru.

Barrow has made no secret of his love for the genre, shoehorning it seamlessly into the trip hop ambience that undulates from Portis’ releases; however, his new project with fellow Bristol-based musicians Billy Fuller (Fuzz Against Funk, Massive Attack, Robert Plant and Malakai) and Matt Williams (Team Brick) under the name of BEAK> swells with its informed influence: something that is dissonant and eludes to esoteric arrangements.

For the 11 years that it took Portishead to record their highly anticipated third album (aptly titled ‘Third’), it took BEAK> 12 days to record their eponymous debut album, the pace of which being down to the strict guidelines dictating the writing and recording process. The result of which is the sum of its parts: musicians emancipated from musical structure and concerned with the assimilated texture and propagation of experimental sound.

From the doom-laden “Dundry Hill” to the low-key kraut croon of “I Know”, ‘BEAK>’’s jam-based manipulation of sound and structure is a defiant step away and contrast to the extreme perfectionism that one would associate with Barrow’s previous works. The off kilter vocal/organ swirls that swell beneath the droning bass of ‘Pill’ will be hard to swallow for many, but for those willing to give the album time will see where ‘Iron Acton’ pays tribute to the genre and era that formed it along with much of The Horrors latter day work.

Bat For Lashes – Roundhouse, London – 5th October 2009

2009-10-08T21:37:00.001+01:00

Natasha Khan is not the first lady of pop to try and pull off Paganism as a musical gimmick, and nor will she be the last. Stepping to the front of the stage at the rather ceremonial Roundhouse this evening, Khan – dressed in black spandex leggings, swimsuit and a gold cape that coruscates with sequins – looks like she’s stepped off pop’s production line of shamanistic concepts.

Like Kate Bush, Bjork, Madonna and, dare I say it, Enya, before her, Natasha’s dabble with occult-inspired pop has become somewhat of a paradigm in ritualistic sound and showmanship. Touring once again off the back of her Mercury Musical Prize nominated albums Gold And Fur and Two Suns, her Bat For Lashes ensemble consisting of multi-instrumentalists Charlotte Hatherley and Ben Christophers, produce a rather prescribed performance on the night.

The audience stand static in reverence, as smoke fills and projected moons alight the darkness of the stage as Khan opens up her cape and lets it drape around the back of her stool, leaning in to her piano and microphone to open with the brooding ‘Horse and I’. Veiled behind her thick fringe and myriad of pseudonyms, it’s easy to see the allure that she has stood before the demographic-spanning crowd in attendance: with a degree in music and visual arts, Natasha’s informed sound and vision in astutely repackaging pop along with its colourful imagery amounts to something that is eccentrically obscure, yet commercially appealing.

As she howls at the bells that she holds aloft, a strategically positions fan causes them to chime the intro to a haunting rendition of ‘The Wizard’, as her hair flows longingly behind her, revealing the 29-year-old’s face and connecting her with the crowd through all the smoke and mirrors. “Shall we carry on with a little more dancing?” she asks merely as a polite gesture to crowd, as she twists and contorts in a Kate Bush-like manner as she launches into ‘What’s A Girl To Do’ – one of a number of revamped songs on the night thanks to her adept band of musicians.

The night’s performance is a solid exhibition of Bat For Lashes achievements so far, producing a well orchestrated set that ebbed and flowed with ease and maturation. From the careless whisper of ‘Tahiti’ to the rousing thrum of ‘Siren Song’ to the ambient electro disco of ‘Daniel’, Khan’s euphonic vocal deliverance throughout the hour left the crowd endeared and in awe.

Even the TV screen that was rolled on during the encore to reveal her alter ego Pearl, whom she duets with on ‘The Big Sleep’, had enough artistic licence about it to be pulled off on such an occasion, even if it did cause mass confusion amongst the punters.

Monsters Of Folk – ‘Monsters Of Folk’ album review

2009-10-05T16:33:00.003+01:00

Supergroups are rarely more than the sum of their parts, with each member clutching an impressive CV of their own work in order to make a consummate organ of their better attributes. However, it often comes as a shock to the system as to how un-super many of these bands can be on record, rarely bringing anything new to the table and instead indulging in egos and the zeitgeist of a genre time forgot in order to resolve some sort of fiscal or career form.

Monsters Of Folk, comprising of Jim Jones (My Morning Jacket), Matt Ward (M.Ward/She & Him), Conor Oberst and Mike Mogis (Bright Eyes) on paper read as the next Crosby, Still, Nash and Young, with a creative dynamic that should not disappoint. Even the lack of a steady Ringo to these middle of the road Lennons and McCartneys does not seem to have hampered them; instead, Jones takes to the stool with a steady rhythm or opting for the technical prowess of Mogis in programming signature beats.

Opener ‘Dear God (Sincerely M.O.F)’ is an interesting, endearing and ethereal opener, snatching percussive samples from Trevor Dandy’s 1970 ‘Is There Any Love’. The gospel feel of the original beats are layered with a heavenly soul of rousing harps and synthesisers, as Jones, Ward and Oberst snatch a verse of theological ruminations. The result is quite beautiful if somewhat of a take on Take That turns indie.

Single ‘Say Please’ jogs casually along to Conor’s rather maudlin vocal until Mike rips through the middle eight with a stadium-structured solo, distinctly stirring what is rather a dull track into life. This is not the first occasion Mike saves the album with his Jeff Lynne-style of production and foundation for surreptitiously layering instruments, but a longer look after a few listens results in himself and Jones being the only two who save face on this album.

Oberst and Ward vocally take the centre stage on many of the 15 tracks on display, often leaving many dry and devoid of any emotion gain similar to that of their previous releases away from MOF. However, when they do conjure any form, they do it well: ‘Whole Lotta Losin’’ sees Matt melodically flourish over one of the better of the album tracks, followed by Conor’s sombre intonations that unveil “The love we made at gunpoint wasn’t love at all” during the pensive distillations of the travelling ‘Temazcal’.

Stylistically, the album doesn’t falter, with much of its plaudits going to Jim and Mike for their technical additions and direction with much of the albums structure. The quality of the band’s cohesiveness is met, and most distinct, on the likes of ‘Map of the World’ (an unravelling narrative that broods with vocalised timbres), and the vocal baton that is passed throughout ‘Baby Boomer’ like a Olympic 4x100 track team turned troubadours.

‘Slow Down Jo’ and ‘Magic Marker’ are part of a number of tracks that fall under the radar, lacking the certainty of soul that is expected from a unit of marketable musicians, making this debut from Monster Of Folk somewhat sub-par and schmaltzy than another supergroup to buy into.

Lethal Bizzle – ‘Go Hard’ album review

2009-10-04T23:28:00.001+01:00

At the turn of the Millennium, British urban music began to burgeon into the mainstream in a new form. No longer content with emulating American hip-hop acts in a myriad of guises, a new generation of street-based philosophers began to serialise life on the streets this side of the pond. With a blend of UK garage, dancehall and hip-hop, grime disseminated out of East London’s underground scene, with the height of its success, cultural significance and originality being critically bolstered by Dizzee Rascal’s 2003 Mercury Music Prize win with ‘Boy In Da Corner’.

A stalwart of the brotherhood and genre, Lethal Bizzle has made a name for himself not only with his candid lyricism, but often as not dipping his toe into political arena whether he likes it or not: his debut solo single, 2004’s “Pow (Forward)” caused concerns from a number of political and pressure groups due to its controversial lyrics about gun culture in the UK. The single was banned from airplay on numerous radio stations despite reaching number 11 in the charts, and was even cut from the club circuit due to its tendency to provoke violence amongst punters. Again, he found himself speaking out against David Cameron’s comments about Radio 1’s Tim Westwood choice of music in that it encouraged people to carry guns and knives, calling the Tory leader a “donut”.

We are in a time of change and struggle, and with the release of Lethal Bizzle’s third studio album ‘Go Hard’, a sense of this has been encapsulated. Somewhat esoteric and absurd to the average listener, grime and its cohorts have given those of us who are measurably distant and purblind to the agitations of “life on the streets”, an incite to gang culture and hardship.

From the opening aggressive beats and mantra of “Money Power Respect Fame” to “Can You See Me” we see Lethal’s roots firmly flourishing from the instantly addictive 2-step breakbeats that nurtured his name and career; however, the Walthamstow MC venture into UK funk with title track “Go Hard” and its horn-led rhythms produced by Donae’o, punk as he collaborates with Gallows on “Rockstar”, and dub-step inflected beats of “Push It” and “Don’t Run Up”.

Time and talent has been invested into ‘Go Hard’ in order to keep abreast with the likes of Dizzee Rascal as he storms the chart with three straight number ones, but there are points of argument where Lethal loses touch, almost deracinating himself from his roots, in order to make a name for himself commercially in the same way that Dizzee has. Stepping on toes with tried and tested samples in the form of House Of Pain’s “ Jump Around” (“Jump”), Busta Rhymes/Wu-Tang Clan sleaze (“Flap Your Wings”), and self-aggrandising nonchalance (“Who The Fuck Are You?”) are a number of hip-flops that less lock downs and more turn offs. There are also moments when you question the artist’s integrity, as he hypocritically bounces from tune to tune spouting that he is ‘real’ and still at one with heritage, to creeping on the untouchable side of fame and fortune. As is the arrogance of hip-hop one might guess.

Bizzle may be a voice of the streets and a cultural movement that many of us cannot resolve into or seek solace, but the true outcome of this record will give the likes of Cameron and his cabal of middling men enough fodder for arguments of their Broken Britain strap line in the form of the verbal bullets that are acerbically spat during ‘Go Hard’ to strike further fear into disenfranchised voters.

Lou Barlow – ‘Goodnight Unknown’ album review

2009-09-28T19:39:00.002+01:00

In 2000, Lou Barlow bemoaned his earlier work in Sebadoh and Folk Implosion as “fucking crap”, declaring that he was disillusioned with his work and the fact that it had left no lasting impression on the world: "No matter how many good songs I've written, or great lyrics or whatever, if I died tomorrow, my obituary would be, 'This guy played in Dinosaur Jr and released a couple of indie-rock records.' That would be it. I've got nothing that's even comparable to the success that a lot of bands have achieved. I've done jack-shit, as far as I can tell," he self-deprecatingly gushed in the NME.

As far as “jack-shit” goes, Barlow has done pretty well in pioneering the lo-fi genre throughout his career thus far, and even if he does not go as far as making the history books with that, he will at least make into the top five list for ‘Songs Not To Be Played At A Evangelical Christian Dinner Party’ with the release of 2005’s “Mary” (a softy-strummed folk number denouncing the immaculate conception). Crucifix-shaped cucumber sandwich anyone?

If Barlow is guilty of anything it’s the fact that he has often as not been found to write and record a legacy of work like someone scratching their genitals in public: compulsively, and with a little regard for those who are paying attention. However, since the release of his debut solo effort, ‘Emoh’, Barlow has stepped away from the noise experiments of his past and fine-tuned a more melodic sound.

Borrowing the live-band energy of Dinosaur Jr. and the stylistic reach of Sebadoh, the surging opening track “Sharing” bounces along with steady drumming, ragged guitars and fuzz vocals to produce something that Brendan Benson would have happy added to ‘Alternative To Love’. The thing is, when Barlow is at his most stripped back, he is at his best: “Too Much Freedom” fondles his folk sensitivity with a vocal that skips harmonically with the guitar, a beautiful foundation for a lyrically sorrow song; similarly, “The One I Call” and “I’m Thinking” touch upon a openly forlorn theme that undulates throughout the record.

However, there are often as not sticking points with such sadness, causing the album to slip into a musical sedation: title track “Goodnight Unknown” aurally moans with synth-led swirls that sound like a socially awkward teen serialising his life onto a blog, and “Praise”’s lacklustre jangle is a tangled and tired formula, something of a mournfully idiosyncratic nut that Barlow has been trying to crack along with mainstream success for sometime now. It’s just a shame that the likes of Snow Patrol have mopped up such popularist pity with such terrible glee already.

Kurt Vile - 'Childish Prodigy' album review

2009-09-28T14:24:00.005+01:00

Many would argue that at the age of twenty-nine, Philadelphia’s Kurt Vile would be far too old to be releasing his debut album ‘Childish Prodigy’. In the grand scheme of things, many of rock music’s luminaries had already orchestrated their way into the audio history books by the age of seventy-seven, living fast and young in an industry that tormented their talents with free venture and loose virtues, leaving them with little but histrionic epitaphs in their wake. However, times have changed, and in recent we have seen the likes of The Boss nuzzle agedly at the businesses fortifying breast with moneymaking reunions and Johnny Rotten visually curdling any credibility he arguably had with butter adverts.

Vile, however, is not new to the music scene, but instead one of its best-kept secrets and scholars. Starting out his career as lead guitarist of Philly-based The War On Drugs in 2005, he went on to release a number of bedroom recordings in the form of 2008’s ‘Constant Hitmaker’ and ‘God Is Saying This To You’ on home grown label to quietly prolific commendations. These low-key, beautifully unfettered releases fizzed with the ambient warmth of an artist with integrity, causing enough of a buzz for Matador to sign and unearth him from his shaded underground circles.

And from this great excavation we see a self-confessed musical sponge draw influence from the wells of washed-out legacies in the form of delta blues, alternative Americana and protopunk to form a beguiling, sedulous record that demands – like many of the bellwethers that it often echoes – attention from its opening four bars. “Hunchback” unlocks the album with a heavy lo-fi aesthetic of guitar feedback, pummelling drums and rudimentary keys that parallel that of Iggy Pop’s mesmerising “I Wanna Be Your Dog”; to the saturated in reverb and the most delectable of pinch harmonic loops, “Dead Alive” sounds like The Stones circa their psychedelic escapades; to the thoughtful builds of the chugging Springsteen-esque “Freak Train”; and a cover of Dim Star’s “Monkey” all together act as testament to the idiosyncratic and antiquated sound which Vile reflects upon.

However, this is not to say that Vile’s work is a reference point and rehash of such bygone eras, instead ‘Childish Prodigy’ is a truly absorbing listen that has been scripted in a manner that he can call his own: the touching and frayed charms of “Overnight Religion” and “Blackberry Song”, folk dirges that are layered with his sonorous vocal, sit contemplatively between the haze and fuzz of a record that is a truly natural and earnest effort.

Vile may be guilty of exhuming a desirable array of legends as inspiration for his record, but the length and depth he goes to in forming his own signature sound results in something assiduous, permeating and innovative in its own right. Something that must be extolled and listened to on its own graces.

Feature

2009-09-23T13:32:00.003+01:00

Lomography
Once the industrious brain child of Communist Russia, the candid approach of Lomography is now having repercussive effects upon the Capitalist world. Thomas A. Ward delves deep into its thirty-year history and modern day privacy issues

For the pleasure and glory of the Soviet citizens
In 1982, General Igor Petrowitsch Kornitzky, right-hand man to the USSR Minister of Defence and Industry, smashed a little Japanese mini-camera onto the regal desk of his comrade Michail Panfilowitsch Panfiloff. Director of the powerful LOMO Russian Arms and Optical factory, Panfiloff examined the camera carefully, taking note of its sharp glass lens, high light sensitivity and robust casing. The two, realising the superior nature and extreme potential of this sedulous creation, gave immediate orders to copy and improve its design. The ultimate goal: to produce the largest quantity possible for the pleasure and glory of the Soviet people.

It was decided with great authority that every respectable Communist should have a LOMO Kompakt Automat of their own, and the Lomo LC-A was born. Millions of these inexpensive cameras were promptly produced and sold, as comrades snapped happily away throughout their day through the Eighties, fully documenting the last gasps of Communism.

Since its clandestine creation, many rumours have evolved with regards to its use. Users were encouraged to take a light-hearted approach to their photography, and to document everyday life. The LOMO LC-A’s small size, simple controls, and ability to shoot in low light encourages candid photography, photo reportage, and realism. This, in effect, resulted in the first form of Big Brother surveillance for a Communist regime, as the inexpensive snapshot camera enabled them to gather intelligence on their unsuspecting citizens.

The Iron Curtain closes on Lomography
The popularity of the LC-A waned after the curtain call of Communism and the introduction of dirt cheap, battery-powered imports from Asia. The LC-A was now only available in quirky, old-school camera shops.

In 1992, a group of restless Viennese students travelling through the Prague stumbled across such a shop and bought a couple of the cameras for fun. They began to take candid photos of the resplendent capital as the Czech Republic celebrated its new-found freedom from Soviet control. The LC-A had unknowingly been rediscovered.

When they developed the photos of their tour – amusing, sad, garish shots, some in focus and some blurred – they noticed something special about them. The pictures had an exciting and fresh quality to them, capturing the life of not only their subject, but also of the photographer.

The Lomographic Society and beyond
In the snap of a shutter, Lomography engrossed all of those coming into contact with their photographs, and in 1992, The Lomographic Society (Lomographische Gesellschaft) was founded in Vienna, with the aim of spreading the message of Lomography throughout the globe.

As the demand for LOMO Kompakt’s grew throughout the world, the society was faced with a dilemma as the Russian production plant announced it was stopping its manufacture. Eventually the Society members were successful in convincing the LOMO factory heads and Mr. Vladimir Putin (vice-mayor of the LOMO Optics factory of St. Petersburg at the time) to begin production of the LC-A once again.

Despite being in production, LC-As are still in short supply. Originals fetch in excess of £100 on eBay due to their niche and historical value amongst photographers and enthusiasts who wish to take part in its honest artistry, adhering to its ‘Ten Golden Rules’.

The Ten Golden Rules
At the very core of Lomography lie the Ten Golden Rules to guide and disarm users of all photographic formalities and complications. The very essence of Lomography’s “Don’t Think, Just Shoot” motto.

1. Take your camera everywhere you go;
2. Use it any time - day or night;
3. Lomography is not an interference in your life, but part of it;
4. Try the shot from the hip;
5. Approach the objects of your Lomographic desire as close as possible;
6. Don’t think;
7. Be fast;
8. You don’t have to know beforehand what you captured on film;
9. Afterwards either;
10. Don’t worry about any rules.
Sub head/sell: The light-hearted approach to Lomography and its sordid Communist past is something that we cannot escape from in contemporary society with CCTV and Facebook leading the way in profile data basing. Should we be worried?

Lomography’s vision in our modern day society
The candid style of photography that Lomography promotes can be seen (or not as the case may be) all around us. The UK is the world leader in video and digital surveillance. Our every move is being monitored by over 4.5 million CCTV cameras that hang menacingly above our heads, making us one of the most watched nations in the world, next to the likes of Communist China. This works out at one CCTV camera for 14 people living in the UK.

Although CCTV can be a valuable tool in crime detection and prevention, it is often unproven as a cure and infringes on our personal privacy and liberty as a result. The Home Office has spent a huge amount of its crime budget on CCTV over the last ten years, yet crime rates are comparable with countries with very few cameras.

CCTV can be effective in bringing prosecutions in criminal courts but even then, some police forces admit that they will not use CCTV footage because of the time and costs involved. It is also dangerously unregulated, and without independent regulation, there is potential for CCTV to be misused and abused and potential for unjustified intrusions into our privacy by a government that is constantly chipping away at our civil liberties.

Lomographic narcissism
The photo reportage of Lomography can be seen throughout social networking sites all over the world. The digital age in which we live makes it very simple for us to join and volunteer our most intimate details on the likes of Facebook and share it with the world.

Free to join, Facebook catalogues your entire social network into a computer database: email, home address, personal preferences over the books you read, films you watch and music you listen to, to your political persuasions, club associations, previous jobs, educational background, and who you are dating. This can be quite an honest and intensive list, with some of your nearest and dearest not even knowing some of these rather personal details unless you accept their request for friendship through the site.

Millions of its cohabitants update their profile daily, uploading photos of their nights out and daily movements onto the site with a narcissistic insouciance, seemingly unaware of the risk that it places on their privacy. Let’s call it Big Brother with a consumer-friendly smile.

Founded in February 2004 by Mark Zuckerberg, Dustin Moskovitz and Chris Hughes while studying at Harvard University, Facebook has spread virally since its inception and currently has more than 200 million active users worldwide.

In order to launch Facebook on a global scale, Zuckerberg et al received $500,000 in funding from Peter Thiel. Founder and former CEO of Paypal, Thiel is a self-confessed neocon and globalist whose book, ‘The Diversity Myth’ received praise from the likes of William Kristol and Edward Meese. Thiel also sits on the board of the radical right-wing Vanguard PAC.

More worryingly, Facebook received $13 million in venture capital backing from Accel Partners. James Breyer, manager of Accel, sits on the board of National Venture Capital Association (NVCA) alongside Gilman Louie, head of In-Q-Tel. The CIA set up In-Q-Tel in 1999, with the goal of fostering companies that provide “data warehousing and mining” in a “secure community of interest.” Further goals include “profiling search agents” which are “self-sustaining, to reduce its reliance on CIA funding.” For something that is dressed up as being harmless and fun, Facebook is beginning to look like the sheep in devil’s clothing and a dark foray into psychological profiling.

Facebook and Lomography share many similar features in their insidious and clandestine encroachment upon our lives, movement and liberties. However, Facebook can be seen as acting in the favour of a possible cabal whom want to know our every move and crush internal dissent; Lomography wants to capture it candidly of nostalgia’s sake.

The Victorian English Gentlemens Club – ‘Love On An Oil Rig’ album review

2009-09-17T14:05:00.004+01:00

Heralding from a long line of British bands born from an Art School tradition of creative invention and freethinking, The Victorian English Gentlemens Club created quite a stir with their eponymous debut album. What their opus lack in musicality, structure and form, they made up with their youthful zeal, virility and pop-obscurity; it wasn’t so much as case of thinking outside of the box, as cramming it rambunctiously with instrumental anxiety and agitating it until things fell into some kind of semblance.

From the 47-second opener of ‘Love On An Oil Rig’’s stop-start clattering drums, to the Fall-esque bass-laden single ‘Parrot’, TVEGC draw heavily upon post-punk revolutionaries of the Eighties, when the likes of Rough Trade records were at their best, expanding minds and breaking convention. ‘Watching The Burglars’ shifts with the propensity towards Young Marble Giants; ‘Bored In Belgium’ bounces harmonically in the direction of The Slits; and ‘Periscope Envy’ colours the white noise of Sonic Youth and bastardises the defunct rhythms of Wire.

They still have a way to go though, and often as not, their artistic discordance can leave ‘Love On An Oil Rig’ a rather laborious listen of swirling, directionless nonsense as they haphazardly thumb their way through the likes of ‘Worker’; but at their best they are a post-modern virtue to those who can forgive them for their lack of a possessive apostrophe.

The Cribs Interview

2009-09-15T20:39:00.006+01:00

“It’s not about fame, success or hanging out in the right places… you don’t have to be on T4 everyday glad handing so much to get somewhere.”

2004 was a boom or bust year for indie music in the UK. The Libertines, lauded as one of the most significant, generation defining bands since The Clash, had suffered a very public demise at the histrionic hands of the tabloid newspapers, with the NME turning into a weekly publication satirising Pete Doherty’s downfall, drug addiction and imprisonment.

In their wake, a burgeoning scene of replicants spilled out from the sleazy emissions of the Rhythm Factory scene in the east of the capital, with Doherty himself acting as a deity and Pied Piper to a new generation of scuttering misfits. Independent record labels threw money and publicity in abundance to those bands scurrying beneath the pallid detail of Doherty’s trench coat and lifestyle, as the NME bolstered its support for this new breed with a four-page dedication to the DIY scene: ‘The Future Starts Now!’ (August 7th, 2004).

The ‘Future’, as expected, was as ephemeral as Doherty’s daily clarity and cleanliness, and very few survived the initial fever that came with such confident foresight. Selfish Cunt, Thee Unstrung, The Others, Neils Children, Dogs and The Paddingtons all suffered commercial comedowns following their initial endorsements; The Rakes and Babyshambles being the only two bands going beyond their initial releases.

North of the river, Yorkshire was spitting out its own DIY scene as MySpace gripped a generation of music fans in a state of paralysis. The New Yorkshire scene mirrored that which was brooding in London: the bands worked hard to build on local support, playing any piss-laden pub, club and venue in order to reach out to fans new and old – The Cribs were at the forefront of the flourishing sphere.

“I don’t know if it’s a Yorkshire things or what, but we started off by playing a lot of small gigs in small venues and really got to know a lot of our fans,” explained Ryan Jarman. “I think that those people who were into us then, or have seen us over the years, have some kind of sense of involvement with the band.”

“It’s just like a grassroots connection,” continued his twin brother Gary, “That was the whole point. It was just a case of touring and having it build up over time. We weren’t necessarily dogmatic about playing small venues, that’s something that we do now and just for fun, but it was more a case of playing wherever we could any night of the week – just no heirs and graces – and it just built up over time. Like Ryan said, your fans feel an involvement with the band and they sort of know where you came from really.”

It’s Tuesday, September 8th. Monday saw the release of their fourth studio album ‘Ignore The Ignorant’ – their first with new band mate Johnny Marr, and one of the most highly anticipated records of the year. I sit together with the twins on a bench outside the Strongroom Bar on Curtain Road, London, bordering the trendy Old Street-Shorditch divide. Little differentiates the two of them physically apart from the beard the Gary sports. Ryan has a rather tawdry-looking chain around his neck with a heart hanging from it inscribed with the word ‘Love’; his once white t-shirt looks like it has seen better days. After little deliberation, they both order halloumi burgers and a pint of coke each as we settle into conversation.

A lot has changed for Wakefield’s The Cribs since I first saw them as a three-piece performing rather drunken and rambunctiously at Hull’s New Adelphi Club in January of 2004. Less than 40 people were in attendance that night, and their gig was less than auspicious. Everything appears to be a far cry away from the “grassroots” of which they speak. Are they worried that they may be losing their initial connection with their fans?

“That was the first tour we ever did,” explained Gary. “Hull has always been really good for us: the people there kind of typify our fans. We used to go and play there when other bands didn’t, and I think that they appreciated it and held us quite dear after that.

“We’ve been doing bigger shows for a while now. If you try and retain integrity it hopefully shouldn’t matter, and I don’t think that people should begrudge you that more people want to see you play. It’s not a status thing – it’s just that more people want to see us. We still do what we can on a more intimate scale…”

The now four-piece have spent the weekend doing the “theoretical side of things”, being backslapped by industry types ahead of the album’s release and undergoing numerous interviews. Sunday night (September 6th), however, was spent doing the practical side of things, as they showcased their new material in front of a few hundred fans at the Camden Barfly.

“It was great,” recalled Ryan, “It was really good to play somewhere like that like the old days. We try to play small gigs like that whenever possible – ones that the fans would want to come to.

“We always stick fan friendly stuff in whenever we can. We’ll never lose that, but even at the bigger shows, we don’t hide behind a big production and put on a big cheesy rock shows, it’s still exactly the same and it still feels quite intimate and raw just purely because we don’t get up there and act like rock stars. If we did that, we would worry about a backlash and losing fans. We’re always concerned about trying not to alienate our fans from us, so when we do these bigger rooms we still make sure that it is as stripped back as much as possible.”

“That’s mainly down to our own ethic, and I think that our fans share that,” continued Gary. “We don’t try and do it to plicate anything or anyone. That’s an important thing to us, and I think that it is something that is missing these days.

“[The Barfly gig] was just a case of getting back to the things that we first used to do when we were starting out. It’s fun to do. We feel that we are at the beginning of a new chapter so it’s good to go back at that point.”

Turning the page, the inclusion of Marr has brought a new dialogue of colour and evolution to their sound. ‘Ignore The Ignorant’ sees Marr and the Jarman brothers taming and maturing the idiosyncratic punk discordance of their earlier effort with a hefty amount of harmony and musicality. There is a fluency to their song writing and album structure now thanks to the newly recruited, but it is still undoubtedly a Cribs record – it just has a little more credibility and experience in its detail.

“I think that that’s what we are most proud about,” explained Gary, “the fact that you can still hear Johnny’s influence, but it still sounds like The Cribs. Every record has seen a bit of a natural progression: we have been pushing things that little bit further every time. We actually like what the band does, so we never felt like we had to change.”

“We never planned on what we were going to make it sound like,” continued Ryan, “we just played and let it take on a life of its own. Johnny’s playing classic ‘Johnny Marr’ kind of stuff, and it would have been a shame if we tried to suppress him too much because he’s such a great guitarist. It’s good to know that we have kept a happy medium. Again, all of that was kind of subconscious really, we never planned it – he just happened to slot in like another piece of the puzzle.”

“And that’s what we are most happy about,” said Gary, “the fact that it hasn’t messed with the integrity of the band too much, but it’s evident that there has been an influence.”

So what was it like looking up across the studio and being in the presence of such a luminary?

“We were huge fans of The Smiths. It was great,” explained Gary. “He’s just a great guy to work with, a good friend and a great collaborator. There is a difference between being a good musician and a good collaborator, and he’s a good collaborator in the fact that he has good ideas and takes good direction. He’s also laid back about it, forces an agenda when he feels like he has to and he’s just so easy to work with. I guess that’s why he’s been around for a while, working with different artists.”

After The Smiths’ break-up in 1987, Marr returned to the music scene two years later with New Order's Bernard Sumner to form the supergroup Electronic. Later he became a member of The The and worked as a session musician and writing collaborator for artists such as The Pretenders, Pet Shop Boys, Billy Bragg, Talking Heads, Beck, Oasis, Modest Mouse… the list goes on. To say that he fits into the puzzle is an understatement, and often as not, he has been the missing, most sought after piece to many bands. Something that I think The Cribs would quietly admit after listening to the new album.

“I was such a fan of his guitar playing,” gushed Ryan. “It was amazing to work with him and hear him doing exactly what you would imagine him to. He’s had so many great riffs over the years – it was so cool to be writing them with him. It’s just really exciting you know. It’s weird, because he just feels so much like a part of the band now that we don’t really think about it anymore.”

“Except when you are doing interviews and you just chat about him… it’s just a cool thing,” concludes Gary. “He’s in for the foreseeable future. We’re talking about the next record already and he’s as much a member of the band as everyone else at this point. It’s a full time thing right now.”

And what of Marr’s comments about ‘Ignore The Ignorant’ being a political album? Is this something that is whole band stand behind?

They both shake their heads and raise a wry smile. “Nah, it’s more personal politics really,” explains Gary. “We were kind of disappointed that people misconstrued us. I guess there was a quote that was a little misleading though. We don’t want to down play it and say there is no element of politics to it, but it would be misleading to say that it’s a political record because it really isn’t. If anyone hears the songs they are not stark statements; they’re relatively cryptic, personal things.

“We just write about things that we know. I know a lot of people say that, but it’s the truth. I don’t know enough about politics to wade in on it, and to be honest, it’s not that I don’t care about it, but I would rather keep it separate from the music that we are doing. It would be misrepresentative of my personality to pretend that I had any sort of agendas to get across.”

Since their inception, The Cribs have faired well with the press. Their music was tagged as a ‘British rearguard’ to the new wave of popular US indie bands such as The Strokes that undulated across the Atlantic at the time, and they were later described by Q Magazine as ‘The biggest cult band in the UK’ in 2008. Music aside, however, they have made alternative headlines in recent rants about ‘careerist indie bands’ that flood the charts, lambasting the industry and ingratiating eager hacks with their outspoken comments and quotes.

“I think you just might as well do it you know,” Gary admits openly. “I think a lot of people think it, especially people from our background. We come from quite a DIY indie scene and it’s strange that we find ourselves in a position now with a lot of bands that sort of exist and don’t have the same values, background and ethos as us. When we find ourselves being lumped in with them we just wanted to distance ourselves from it all for accuracy’s sake.”

Ryan sighs, lays his hands flat on top of each other on the table and balances his chin carefully upon them: “We are a much different band to a lot of those that we were lazily lumped in with. The things that we value highest aren’t success or fame or anything like that, we just want to make good records that we are proud of and that’s the only agenda. It felt weird that people were always saying that we were slagging other bands off because we weren’t. We weren’t being self-righteous…”

“We were just trying to set the record straight,” interjects Gary. “We didn’t have anything against these bands personally, it’s just the fact that it is a wolf in sheep’s clothing you know. It’s totally fine if your intentions are to become a ‘chart band’, but when people try to associate themselves with these things that they have nothing in common with, that’s just a little bit galling really. It took us a long time to get where we are on our terms and it just feels weird when people try to make out that they are something different to what they are.”

“It’s exciting for us to find ourselves in the chart now,” chirps Ryan, “but only in a weird kind of perverse way, and we have done it without any of the normal commercial channels…”

“It feels like a bit of a victory, and that’s what makes it worthwhile,” boasted Gary. “It’s not about fame, success or hanging out in the right places… you don’t have to be on T4 everyday glad handing so much to get somewhere, and it’s strange that that’s where things are now. I don’t think it can be that much fun for a lot of new bands to be thrust straight into that world. We were lucky enough in the fact that we were largely ignored by that lot when we were putting our first two records out and I’m glad; had be have been thrust straight into that world from the start, we would have probably broken up.”

The self-satisfaction of doing it all on their own terms and circumnavigating the celebrity sphere in the same notion has left them with their ethics intact. They are unpretentious, easy to talk to, and remain earnest to their roots considering the industry that they are enveloped in. They are willing to play the game, but only within the realms of their own law and DIY lore. So what are their hopes for the new album?

“Whenever we make an album, all we want to do is be better than the last,” Ryan explained humbly. “I mean… we don’t care about where it charts. I don’t listen to chart music, so it’s not a great concern, but as long as people think it’s a good record then that’s good you know – we’re pleased with that. But if it does chart, it’s just nice to know that it’s on our own terms you know.”

“It’s just nice to be here and in this situation after having done all the groundwork ourselves,” continued Gary. “It means that we have bypassed a lot of that money that has to be spent by other people.”

Five years on and The Cribs are still rattling around the country in the same van that they started out in. Unlike many bands that suffered the initial hyperbole of generation defining ingenuity of the media at the time of their genesis, they have remained a staple of the UK’s burgeoning indie scene. They have evolved on their own terms (the addition of Marr will certainly see them through to a new musical direction in the future), and their DIY ethic and approach to a rather austere industry compiled by cruel and shallow money trenches has helped them deconstruct success in order to tailor it to their needs. More importantly, they still remain in contact with their fans – the source of their success, and the only people they aim to please. ‘Ignore The Ignorant’ has so far pleased the critics, and it will surely please those who matter most.

Manchester Orchestra – ‘Mean Everything To Nothing’ album review. For Gigwise

2009-09-11T11:44:00.003+01:00

By the turn of the Nineties, the American Dream had finally burst. The music that had begun to filter from the decadent subsections of Seattle’s underground became a corporate-funded smear campaign to America’s ever-simpering image. Grunge manifested the most overwrought of teenage emotions in the most apathetic of anti-pop pin-ups, and if money was to be made in its antisocial misery and awkwardness, the mainstream was soon to be infected and given something to invest in.

And now, Twenty years on since the release of Nirvana’s viral debut album ‘Bleach’ (a fuzz infatuated, sombre affair, that left anyone whom might have still been rabid with the idealism that American life was as resplendent as an episode of Baywatch, rather pallid to this new sonic youth), Manchester Orchestra step up to the plate to narrate and fill another generation’s adolescent void of being with ‘Mean Everything To Nothing’. Arguably, emo tried to fill the market in place of grunge in its attempt at to journalise the most suppressed of teen emotions over the airwaves, but instead suffered its own death due to its vacuous detail and asymmetric haircuts; however, Manchester Orchestra are something to get hung up on, and after the release of their precocious debut ‘I’m Like A Virgin Losing A Child’, the Atlanta-based quintet became quite the muse for many a maudlin teen throughout the states.

“I am the only one that I’m think is going crazy” lead singer Andy Hull whimpers at the start of ‘The Only One’, providing a bulwark of stadium anthem narrative to the clattering drums, slide guitar and whirling organ that presides over the opening track. ‘Shake It Out’ bolsters the opening half of the album with a symphonic blitz of jaded guitar and screamathon that broods over the chorus and ethereal breakdowns, whereas ‘I’ve Got Friends’ sweeps with a fuzzy detail as a nod to My Morning Jacket.

‘Mean Everything To Nothing’ is maelstrom of emotions, reinforced by a pop-foolery that harks back to primal, pounding assault of Weezer’s ‘Pinkerton’ and Nirvana’s ‘In Utero’ that makes it so appealing to the dysfunctional masses that it satirises. The album does take a dip in pace halfway through from its rambunctious opening to a slower burning chorale of torrential emotions with ‘Pride’, an ode to death metal riffs that leaves you nodding slowly to its heavy hooks akin to the likes of Pearl Jam; the gripping ‘I Can Feel A Hot One’; and the ruminative ‘The River’, leaving ‘Mean Everything…’ to be a stalwart to its genre and teen cathartics, or simply your best kept secret next to your Panic! At The Disco records that you so adamantly deny owning.

Leeds Festival 2009 - Arctic Monkeys/Radiohead/Kings of Leon. For The Stool Pigeon

2009-09-03T00:35:00.006+01:00

The August bank holiday has become quite the right of passage for many an emancipated teen over the years. They arrive fresh-faced and full of zeal having qualified from state education, emulating their favoured musical luminaries and genres in the latest Topshop/Topman trend to match; the extent to which they unknowingly parody the event and each other will often raise a wry smile upon the faces of those who have run the three-day gauntlet before them – we’ve all arrived children of the revolution at some point, but we all return edified by our experiences there.

And looking at the Main Stage’s headliners, how could we be disappointed? Arctic Monkeys and Kings of Leon, two of this decade’s most iconic bands acting as bookends to Radiohead’s omnipotent glory and grace. If we are amidst the doldrums of a recession, Festival Republic’s organisers were certainly doing their bit to keep the good ship Albion’s economy afloat.

Arctic Monkeys opened their set with ‘My Propeller’, Nick Cave’s ‘Red Right Hand’ and ‘Crying Lightning’, an audacious statement of intent if ever there was one. This is no longer the band that brought us the pop frivolities of ‘Mardy Bum’, this is a band that have reinvented themselves and the direction of the third album wheel for many to follow. The crowd, however, were polarised to Turner and Co’s new approach: the pop plaudits were disappointed; the pundits left bereft of articulacy.

The rumours and revelations of Thom Yorke’s disappointment to his performance on Saturday night left many perplexed and speechless. This was not the first time the crowd had felt such emotions: a two-hour strong set including ‘Just’, ‘Jigsaw Falling Into Place’ and newby ‘These Are My Twisted Words’ executed with enigmatic perfection left many open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

With the conversational skills of an echo, Caleb’s messianic interjections between every song began to wear as thin for their apparent enthusiasm for stadium-rock-by-numbers set laced with tracks from Only By The Night. This may have been the performance of their career, the kids may have loved it, but it was somewhat subservient to their commercial appeal, enervating the purists in attendance.

Kid Harpoon – ‘Once’ album review. For Gigwise

2009-08-21T11:53:00.002+01:00

Shooting for the mainstream, purists of Kid Harpoon will be left a little perturbed and unsettled by his debut album ‘Once’. After the gutsy verve and poetic verses of his early EPs and singles, many hopes were pegged on Chatham’s Tom Hull as being a long-waited troubadour with integrity and generational significance. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I panicked and pinned the tail on the wrong donkey, but I would hate to think that people would look back on this decade and pick the likes of James Blunt or Robbie Williams as its zeitgeist singer/songwriters.

The problem is, Kid Harpoon is a changed man. He is no longer the 26-year-old with a rasping vocal, rag and bone guitar and a pocket full of dream; he is a man with an album deal, huge production and celebrity friends to boot. (In a recent interview he mentioned with a student-like glee as to having had lunch with (name drop) David Hasselhoff whilst re-recording his album in LA). The problem is, Kid Harpoon has gone pop.

Opener ‘Stealing Cars’ curb-crawls around pop’s grubby back alleys with a window down and a simpering grin on display, enticing vacuous whores into the back seat; the problem lies when this lady of the night is then hammered for three-minutes with all manner of teeth clenching key changes for his first single release. Again, the likes of ‘Back From Beyond’, ‘Burnt Down House’ and ‘Flowers By The Shore’ (now a pulpy acoustic number with dribbling piano and wet guitar lead) fall from the idiosyncratic graces and courtship of his earlier efforts with something that feels a little soulless and vacuum-formed.

Produced by Trevor Horn – Grammy Award winner for Seal’s ‘Kiss From A Rose’ – has had a massive influence upon the grandeur of this record. At times, the pair’s work is a substantial effort: ‘Colours’ is bolstered with a symphony of strings what lifts the chorus and its lyrical rhetoric to a new high; ‘Hold On’ cavorts with an acoustic psychedelia that sweeps the listener away with an accoutrement of rousing instruments that have been layered with dextrous care; the piano-led theatrics of ‘Death of a Rose’ and the nostalgia-laced lullaby of ‘Childish Dreaming’ on some level manage to salvage this often Toploader-bland punt at for sales success.

LA, the home of Hollywood, can ravage a man’s soul. Lucid thought is distracted by the glitz and the glamour of a plastic society where everything is made to sell – even the smiles. Tom Hull has been left incredibly effected by his deracination and transparently so. In his attempt to further his humble career, he has made a massive pitch at pre-packaged, radio-friendly tunes that on the odd occasion can endear, but often as not, are wholeheartedly disenchanting and removed from what we first fell in over with. His soul.

The Cave Singers - ‘Welcome Joy’ album review. For Supersweet.org

2009-08-10T10:33:00.003+01:00

We have been here before. Take Million Dead’s Frank Turner for example: before the humble acclaim that he received as a wandering raconteur (I mean, literally wandering - the man must have played every piss-stained pub and house party going), he was better know for screaming up in an inaudible lung in his previous hardcore punk Dead form before borrowing from folk luminaries to lash out with the clarity of an acerbic tongue.

Forming from a similar ilk of resurrective ashes of recently deceased hardcore/post-punk (Hint, Hint, Cobra High, Pretty Girls Make Graves), Seattle-based The Cave Singers’ second album, ‘Welcome Joy’, is yet another dynamic change from post modern relations to a more rustic retrograde in sound and influence.

With all the distinctiveness and beauty of their debut ‘Invitation Songs’, ‘Welcome Joy’ lends from a family of grassroots influences to form a patchwork pastiche. From Fleetwood Mac circa ‘Rumours’, to Creedence Clearwater Revival, to Mark Lanegan and Guthrie, the likes of ‘Summer Light’, ‘Bramble’ and ‘Beach House’ are fuelled by the spirit of campfire candour - something that is warm, winsome and endearing.

To call it folk would be wrong - unfortunately its zeitgeist is long gone along with the pragmatism of Socialism - but as a trope to its aural pensive persuasion and bluesy brotherhood is something that fill the heart with joy as a welcoming reminder of a time not forgotten.

Album review: Julian Plenti - 'Julian Plenti is... Skyscraper'. For The Quietus

2009-07-29T20:29:00.002+01:00

The concept of altering one’s guise in the music industry is not a new one: David Bowie transformed his chiseled pop star image into that of Ziggy Stardust, an androgynous alien glam rock star preaching world peace before shedding his skin half a decade later into the funk infatuated Thin White Duke; Prince couldn’t decide which sex, symbol or pseudonym would represent him best throughout his career; and even The Beatles had a go at it with St. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.

The point is, these were all identifiable and established artists at the time they metamorphosed from caterpillar to butterfly to questionable asexual-entities (The Beatles excluded); Interpol’s Paul Banks, however, is as anonymous a frontman as you can get, saying very little during performances and to the press, he’s one of a small number of artists that remains veiled behind his sonorous vocal.

This has suited his – and the band’s – apparitional status within the industry, and as a furtherance to his mysteriously moving presence, Banks’ debut solo effort in the form of Julian Plenti is of a similar ilk. Julian Plenti is… does swell with the same brooding elements that have made Interpol such a dark and compelling listen, but there is something artistically inherent and individual about the tapestry that Banks weaves throughout the 11 songs on display.

From the opening synthetic swirls of the Numan-esque ‘Only If You Run’, to the awkward electronic blips that are laden throughout the ever-adjusting pace of ‘Fun That We Had’, Banks – even if unclear in direction – is still as urgent and disturbing as ever.

Expansive and operatic at times, the likes of ‘Skyscraper’ flourish with strings that would pluck away at even the most emotionally void of us, only to be followed by the industrial rhythm of ‘Games For Days’ that builds and bursts with a rapacious hunger.

But there is a softer side to this alter ego: the pulsating piano-led detail that undulates from ‘Madrid Song’, to the steady thrum of ‘On The Esplanade’ touch on a sound and sentiment that has previously been unexplored in Banks’ creativity.

In orchestrating … Skyscraper, Banks has continued to engender that which he helped create in Interpol: a strange, incomprehensible animal, known more for its mythology and nocturnal howls than the shadowy grace that stands before us. The alter ego is intriguing yet dispensable, but what has been created in its wake is ultimately captivating and original listen.

Single review: The Pastels/Tenniscoats – ‘Vivid Youth/About You’. For Supersweet.org

2009-07-27T21:23:00.002+01:00

Taken from their forthcoming collaboration, Two Sunsets, Glasgow’s The Pastels and Tokyo’s Tenniscoats double A-side is somewhat reminiscent of a British summer. Melancholic and maudlin, Gerard Love and Katrina Mitchell’s pastel coloured composition in ‘Vivid Youth’ is soft in texture and warm in heart, but a dreary attempt at soft pop. A cover of The Jesus and Mary Chain’s ‘About You’ echoes with the same tender despondency as the original; yet with the saving addition of its graceful folk-furnished arrangements, bolsters what is a particularly lost in translation effort.

Single review: James Yorkston and The Big Eyes Family – ‘Martinmas Time/I Went to Visit the Roses’. For Supersweet.org

2009-07-27T21:16:00.003+01:00

Breathing new life into some folk classics, Fife folk troubadour James Yorkston’s fifth studio album ‘Folk Song’ is something of celebration of what’s inspired him. Teaming up with The Big Eyes Family, a cover of Anne Briggs’ ‘Martinmas Time’ – originally recorded without accompaniment – is a comforting ode to a cult figure of English folk. Softly arranged ragtime guitar and enticingly twee penny whistles reinvigorate a seminal artists work and Yorkston’s humble critical acclaim.

Album review: Sweet Baboo - 'Hello Wave'. Supersweet.org

2009-07-27T21:13:00.006+01:00

It’s been a busy year thus far for Cardiff-based singer-songwriter Stephen Black. Contributing to Euros Childs’ ‘Son of Euro Child’, Cate le Bon’ ‘Me Oh My’, and Spencer McGarry’s Season’s ‘Episode 1’, Black has become quite the darling of the Welsh music scene. And somewhat of a savour of independence, too: the humbled success of his debut album ‘The Mighty Baboo’ released on his own Businessman Records in January drew admiring glances from the likes of BBC’s Mark Riley and Tom Robinson – and justly so.

‘Hello Wave’ is cheerfully enticing second effort from Black under his alias of Sweet Baboo, something that resonates with talent and integrity from the off. Opener ‘If I’m Still in Love…’ recalls anecdotal details of his journeys around America set against jauntily arranged guitars, cajoling and endearing the listener with his country/folk warblings. Where Black truly shines is in his ability to lighten serious subject matter with his organic orchestrations and jovial and quirky lyrical detail upon the likes of ‘How I'd Live My Life Aka The Bumblebee Song’ and ‘Little Bernadette’.

Sweet Baboo is an astonishingly original musician for our time, unfettered by a need to seek approval from scene credibility or capitulated to the needs of a record company’s point of sale. Black is a talented troubadour, whom if he had a political bee in his bonnet, could take unravel the most criminal of cabals with his harmonious and mellifluous undulations and clarity in deliverance; although this is not evident in ‘Hello Wave’, it must simply be enjoyed on face value – and that is one of optimism and hope.

New Musical Express - Album Review: Lucky Elephant - 'Starsign Trampoline'

2009-07-17T13:17:00.003+01:00

Elephants can bring to mind two symbols and schools of thought. Nelly’s allegorical journey was one of emancipation if examined deeper than its childlike semblance; whereas the Republican Party’s crest alludes to the opinion of a retarded white guy reluctant of change. Fortunately, Lucky Elephant travels a path not too dissimilar to our fabled friend, antithetical and far distant to our once moronic political alias. ‘Starsign Trampoline’ is a celestial debut of virginal quality, brooding with artistic integrity and creativity. From the resplendent lo-fi shoegaze of The Bees-esque ‘Edgar’, to the alluring lyrical sentiment that undulates for the piano-led ‘Red Ties Vs The Bees’ and ‘Neptune’, Lucky Elephant rouse the listener with organic and visceral builds that transcend darkness to a euphonious light at the end of a tunnel. Simply sublime. 8/10

Supersweet.org - Single Review: Super Furry Animals - 'Mt.'

2009-07-16T11:36:00.005+01:00

It’s to be expected after sixteen years in the business that creative minds may dwindle and almost become arid of ideas and imagery. “I wasn't looking for a mountain / There was the mountain / It was a big fucking mountain / So I climbed the mountain” opens Super Furry Animals’ ‘Mt.’. Having not heard it, you would almost want to sing it in a dopey stoner warble, that which has become idiosyncratic of the Welsh psych-poppers over their career spanning nine albums.

It’s almost as if they have suffered some sort of lyrical dementia. But we have grown fond of the SFA’s lackadaisical attitude towards obscurity and pop form, and that’s why this is so endearing a treat as ever. Deep it is not, but it’s their experience in orchestrating eloquently ambiguous pop tunes that makes us all rabidly committed to their presence at some point in our lives. Swirling with mosquito like strings and humming slide guitar, ‘Mt.’ melts to the sound of a glam Slade bumbling along merrily in embrace as to their longevity and success after a session in their local. Simply SFA. Just enjoyable. 7/10

New Musical Express - Live Review: The Yeah You’s. Proud Galleries, Camden, London. 14/7/09.

2009-07-16T11:32:00.003+01:00

There is something unashamedly transparent about The Yeah You’s. Shrink-wrapped, pre-packaged and radio ready, the duo have been vacuum-formed in pop’s hollow husk and filled with all the inoffensive commercial confidence that defiles today’s industry. It’s not that The Yeah You’s don’t have their place: they have nailed the four-minute pop song on the head with a garishly glee simper, contagious choruses and more key changes than you would care to see coruscating from a Take That key ring; but still, they are about as original as a wet bar of soap dissipating in The Hoosiers bathtub.

New Musical Express - Album Review: Set Your Goals - 'This Will Be The Death Of Us'

2009-07-09T21:59:00.004+01:00

Marketing something as “pop-punk” conjures many connotations: polarised in cultural concept and design, the veneered deception of pop’s plastic simper is contrary to the grimace of punk’s acerbic social commentary. Escapism verses realism - it’s no wonder the kids are confused. Branded as such and acting as an ephemeral solution to the perplexity of adolescence, Set Your Goals’ attempt to inculcate and lead a Generation Next-style youth movement left disenfranchised by their dreams having been burst at the hands of capitalism’s rapacious desires is nothing more than a polished war cry. Call it what you will, but ‘This Will Be...’ will do little more than to stir a teen from their slumber with its vacuous and laminated Blink-182 scuzzy guff, than inspire the full Clash rebellion that it desires.  1/10

New Musical Express - Single Review: Hafdis Huld - 'Kongulo'

2009-07-03T16:47:00.003+01:00

‘Kongulo’ means spider for those of us who are not familiar with Hafdis’ native Icelandic tongue, and written as an ode to French(spider)man Alain Robert. Made famous by climbing skyscrapers using his bare hands, Alain’s recent vertical-based venture led to him deploying a banner that read “Global warning kills more people than 9/11 every week” from the New York Times Building. If you’re hoping for an iconoclastic soliloquy of disquieting verses as a soundtrack to this two finger salute to establishment, think otherwise; expect microwave-warm Scandipop over-seasoned with a KT Tunstall-esque folky schmaltz - ‘Kongulo’ is so saccharine, it bores. 3/10

Gigwise.com - Festival Review: Glastonbury 2009

2009-07-02T23:23:00.004+01:00

Glastonbury 2009 - Sunday, June 28th
“Well it looks like we might have made it to the end”

Glastonbury, if you think about it, is the best part of a week; but more importantly, it had been the best part of our year thus far. We had finally made it. Jacko had copped it, with hindsight one of the headliners could have popped a hip, but it was set to be one of the best ever. Even Michael Eavis was buoyant as he address the press and privileged at 11am’s conference: “I’ve always said this, but this really must be the best [Glastonbury] ever, surely?”

Not that Gigwise was there; many hacks weren’t for that matter. Too busy climbing trees and finding that part of ourselves that we left in a field this time last year. Even the BBC’s Andrew Marr had been given time off to adorn his most casual of conservative festival gear and left to his own devices - the mind boggles. No, Gigwise was woken-up a few sleep deprived hours later by Tony Christie and a near 20,000 strong Glastonbury crowd singing along to ‘Amarillo’ at the Pyramid Stage. Motivated by an unquiet desperation to seek an inaudible distance, the chorus sweeping with the clouds that loomed over head, resolve was to be found in Emmy The Great.

Six months into 2009 and we find ourselves stood in a field of this year’s hotly-tipped female artists and the media hyperbole that nourishes them. Trying to keep apace with the likes of VV Brown’s three night stand across the weekend is tough, but Emmy’s ethereal performance was something of a grace. From ‘Absentee’’s swelling beauty, to the chandelier-swing of ‘We Almost Had a Baby’, her set of moving soliloquies were only enhanced by their folksy gospel deliverance.

Many a snoot would have laughed at the sheer number of people that gravitated towards the Pyramid Stage for Tom Jones’ cabaret performance, but the appeal was clear: filling the stage with his orange glow, resplendent presence and lighthearted banter, the crowd were enraptured and in chorus with his schmaltzy renditions of ‘It’s Not Unusual’, ‘Green Green Grass of Home’ and a cover of EMF’s ‘Unbelievable’ to end.

Dedicating ‘Maps’ in tribute to the King of Pop and “All the lovers in the crowd,” the audaciously dressed Karen O on the day sounded papery. A tight but mediocre performance of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs was lost to the atmosphere surrounding the Other Stage. Tracks from the electronic endeavors of It’s Blitz! were lost to the ether; in a similar fashion, the likes of ‘Date With The Night’ failed to cause the musical maelstrom once expected.

The Park stage’s water colour tranquility set as a picturesque canvas for Alela Diane. ‘White As Diamonds’ and a cover of Neil Young’s ‘Heart of Gold’ deliver with a coruscating beauty as she bartered with the crowd for information of anyone who could sort them out with a “good time”.

Stripping ‘Prescilla’ down to the solo undulations of an autoharp was met by an engaged audience, swept away by a showcase from Bat For Lashes. With all the flamboyance and splendor of a Kate Bush-Madonna Eighties hybrid, Natasha Khan’s display on the Other Stage rubber stamped the reverence she has received since the release of her 2006 debut Fur And Gold.

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds’ second headline slot produced a slew of rebellious hits, brilliantly composed and as cacophonous as ever. Their weathered complexion belying their gentlemanly gusto as they ripped through a rupturing rendition of ‘Big, Lazarus, Dig!!!’ to finish on poetically lachrymose ‘The Weeping Song’.

An exhibition of his legacy it may have been, brilliant it was, but Cave could not have helped feeling that he was playing second fiddle in Albarn’s orchestra, as Blur entered stage right to greet an ebullient crowd with their first single ‘She’s So High’. After a tentative start of frangible vocals and missed beats, Blur went on to prove why Britpop was the last cultural revolution of our time.

With ‘Girls And Boys’, ‘Beetlebum’, ‘Coffee And TV’ and actor Phil Daniels’ entrance to perform ‘Parklife’ whipping the crowd into a frenzy, Damon was left in tears, head in hands, during the orchestra-lead ‘End Of A Century’ and ‘To The End’. Received with by a rousing reception, their lyrics appeared more poignant to this day and context.

Politically charged as ever, “Vote Dave” illuminated the stage behind them as they burst into ‘Song 2’ in the encore, ironically signaling the beginning of the end of many things. Closing with an intoxicating version of ‘The Universal’, the crowd consumed with its beauty and admiration for the band, they swayed with arms aloft to its galvanizing and embracing score. Symbolic, if anything, of the festival’s spirit and our evolving times.

Supersweet.org - Album Review: Slow Club - 'Yeah So'

2009-07-01T13:52:00.003+01:00

Having spent their formative years as Sheffield’s best kept secret, cloaked behind the media’s Monkey hyperbole and advocation of numerous derivatives, Slow Club’s accession since 2006 through the smoke and mirrors of their cohabiting luminaries has been rather surreptitious in comparison. Even with the rise of the new folk revolution, the boy-girl duo have seemingly orbited on the edge of scene cool with the demure reserve of a celestial body waiting to be discovered.

Their highly anticipated debut album Yeah So is one that coruscates with a childlike zeal in both sound and sentiment, but it’s true appeal is within the earnest deliverance of each song’s familiar subject. Opener 'When I Go' draws the listener in instantly with its tender rhetoric - “If we’re both not married by twenty-two, could I be bold and ask you”; Rebecca Taylor and Charles Watson’s vocal harmony converging with an amiable grace over a youthful schmaltz that we have all shared.

It is this endearing and candid narrative of the schoolyard sentiments conveyed that bound this album together. 'Giving Up On Love' and 'Because We’re Dead' jangle with a rallying anti-folk call despite their dispirited subject’s soliloquies are ultimately enrapturing; set these against the likes of the cumbersome and awkward drudges of the piano-led 'There Is No Good Way To Say I’m Leaving You' and the deft balladeering of 'Sorry About The Doom', and you have a kaleidoscope of youthful emotions dexterously transposed into neatly orchestrated folk fables.

Taylor and Watson’s songwriting capability has been well worth the wait. Their adept ability to write simplistic songs that are both far reaching and intimate in their appeal is something to be in ore of, capturing the essence - and often awkwardness - of growing up. It is something that we can all relate to, which makes Yeah So such a triumph.

Supersweet.org - Album Review: The Horrors - ‘Primary Colours’

2009-05-21T18:18:00.003+01:00

The Horrors’ hyperbolic introduction to the grand stage of popular culture came as quite a surprise for many new music proponents. For those of us who live outside of Shoreditch’s trendy microcosm, the image of five grown men enduring ridiculously tight funeral attire whilst sporting equally inane haircuts adorning the front cover of the NME appeared rather tripe. At this time, the band had not even stepped foot into the studio to record their eponymous debut and allegations of style over substance were being peddled around as the band wagon rolled out of town, but we all knew of their presence through the intentions and influence of the mass media.

Their untried and tested immediacy upon the scene was a tell of our consumerist integrity of 2007 as the androgynous offspring of The Munsters stood before us, prepackaged with all the hype and interchangeable Lego men hair to boot. ‘Buy now, pay later’ was the manifesto, and we sure did: The Horrors’ commercial sell appeared frangible in the aural light of day, and for those of us who bought into it all, we are left forcing a foppish Screaming Lord Sutch tribute act into our record collection in the form of their debut album ‘Strange House’.

2009 arrives and we find ourselves crippled by our liberal spending attitudes of yesteryear and pinching the pennies towards what is propagated in materialistic industries as a result, and The Horrors’ ‘Primary Colours’ is already being forced down our throats as the must have album of the year, so much so that you can almost feel the rhetoric burning holes is our pockets.

‘Primary Colours’, however, is worth all the media embroidery that stitches the fabric of The Horrors’ tailored poise together; and now, pragmatically speaking, they sound the part, too. Gone are the days of ‘Strange House’ and its obstreperous garage-shock-rock pantomime performed by puppets; ‘Primary Colours’ is more a meticulous and sagacious impression of verve and production.

For the band’s influences in this album bathe in the credence of the shoegazing and psychedelic progressives of yore. Opener, “Mirror’s Image”, sets the pace with an undulating wave of spluttering electronic kicks akin to Kraftwerk circa ‘Radioactivity’ before a wall of My Bloody Valentine guitar echos along to Faris Badwan’s gothic howl of “walk on into the night”.

Swamped in the iniquity and the scuzzy pastiche of American garage-rock, ‘Strange House’ lacked direction in its detail and finality; ‘Primary Colours’ shows in progression and conscience. “Sea Within A Sea”, the debut single from the album, proved an audacious eight-minute odyssey of layered orchestration that one might think would become laborious and dry with time, instead flourishes with brooding Eno-electronica.

“Three Decades” and the album’s title track drive with sweeping pop credibility behind a swirling haze of guitars and anthemic keys, and the shoegazing romanticism of the Echo And The Bunnymen-esque “Do You Remember” are all key notes to how far The Horrors’ have ascended in warranting such verbose statements of grandeur.

As a body of work, ‘Primary Colours’ far surpasses any preconceived expectations you could possibly have of a band after faltering out of the blocks with their debut, and you are often left wondering if it is the same Horrors you initially sold into. Much will be argued with regards to Geoff Barrow (Protishead), Craig Silvey and Chris Cunningam’s influence upon such the surprisingly expansive sound that orchestrates this album’s emotionally morose warblings, but what we are faced with here is a soundscape of customer satisfaction.

The Quietus - News Stories

2009-05-07T20:01:00.005+01:00

http://thequietus.com/articles/01618-slipknot-drummer-gives-blood

http://thequietus.com/articles/01628-simian-mobile-disco-new-album-and-festival-details

http://thequietus.com/articles/01629-new-prefuse-73-ep-and-tour

http://thequietus.com/articles/01630-clark-returns-with-totems-flare

New Musical Express - Single Review: The Maccabees - 'Love You Better'

2009-04-24T01:06:00.003+01:00

With Gordon Brown seemingly nodding-off in the House of Commons as “Budget 2009: Our Frangible Future” was announced, devoid of even a dribble of human emotion, back bone and - what could be argued - consciousness that is required of our chosen bellwether, it will come as a relief to know that we can find solace and empyrean escapism from our crippling realities in ‘Love You Better’. Delivered with a rousing complexity in composition and undulations of open-hearted expression, The Maccabees’ polyphonic declaration of modern romanticism marches to the unparalleled sound and sentiment of a British band that we can all seek sanctity in. 9/10

Record Collector Magazine - Book Review: Lost in Music by Giles Smith

2009-04-24T01:03:00.003+01:00

Memoirs of a pop proponent/obsessive for those seeking reassurance

Within these 277 pages, Giles Smith has flattened out his out life, cut it roundly into record form and inscribed it with a honest groove of immediately absorbing and flowing anecdotes of one man’s obsession with popular music. Its modulation throughout has all the humble hiss and fizz of an old folk record: self-confessional in style, it crackles with the witty and embarrassing truths of a raconteur revealing all. With a great deal of warmth of character, Smith spins each tale with a perspicacious detail towards what it is to be addicted to the pop pressing, as he describes with lucid detail how he identifies himself within its orchestration, imagery, and icons.

From the sudden realisation that at the age of twenty-seven he had failed in his mission to become Sting; to the innocent recollection of which album he would like lose his virginity to; to the great purge of his record collection before he leaves for university in order to save space on his father’s car and face amongst new friends (we’ve all been there!); it’s Smith’s ability to relate to those who have similar preoccupation with music and explicate, in a convivial manner, that ‘you’re not alone in you obsessive afflictions’, that makes this such a compulsive read. As a re-release, this is not to be missed second time around.

Supersweet.org - Album Review: Prefuse 73 - ‘Everything She Touched Turned Ampexian’

2009-04-12T12:40:00.003+01:00

From the foundations that Scott Herren (aka Prefuse 73) built from his 2001 groundbreaking debut ‘Vocal Studies + Uprock Narratives’, he now stands tall as preacher, prophet and bellwether for a generation of aspiring artists with this, his fifth commandment, ‘Everything She Touched Turned to Ampexian’.

His idiosyncratic fusion of leftfield psychedelia, off-kilter electronic beats and loose glitch-hop arrangements are as addictive as they are inspiring. Skipping boundaries with avant-garde audacity and impunity, the painstaking effort of recording the complex tapestry of electronically altered beats to analogue Ampex tape gives ‘Everything She Touched...’ an archaic sentiment towards audio rectitude.

As a body of work, the album manages to transcend the transcendental, becoming a vacuum for the emotions: aurally imaginative, its esoteric sound aesthetic differs throughout with complexity and density as the digital debris of scattered mixes and warmth of feelings that are moulded into well thought out orchestrations that flirt with the senses to ambiguous affect.

From ‘Simple Loop Choir’’s spiritual undulations towards an ethereal vocoder high, to the dissipated electronic dissection of ‘DEC. Machine Funk All ERA's’, to the short and salacious ‘Sexual Fantasy Scale’, ‘Everything She Touched...’ establishes Prefuse 73 as a proven artist; for the experimental vision and integrity that runs in a linear fashion throughout the 29-tracks modulate the detached elements of the sonic spectrum with the freedom of expression akin to luminaries such as Animal Collective, J Dilla and Air. This is drum machine funk for an electronically expressive generation.

Supersweet.org - Single Review: Je Suis Animal – 'The Mystery of Marie Roget'

2009-04-12T12:36:00.003+01:00

Unwilling to conform to the traditional styling of the single-single-album release format, Norway's Je Suis are an altogether ambiguous breed. Following the critical acclaim of their debut album 'Self Taught Magic From a Book', Je Suis Animal return with their debut single “The Mystery of Marie Roget”.

Sweeping with an insouciant elegance, “The Mystery...”'s verve sails beautifully upon the cusp of pop lucidity, washing over psychedelic shores with the ebb and flow of Stereolab, The Concretes and The Velvet Underground circa Nico, only to smooth out the most beauteous of melodic pop pearls with a certain Euro-kitsch. A simply pleasurable release with a Scandinavian twist of bliss.

Supersweet.org - EP Review: Ono Palindromes - ‘Kitty Magic EP’

2009-03-31T01:21:00.003+01:00

Formerly Young Sensations, Exeter five piece Ono Palindromes changed their name when people failed to see the wit in their “erudite” moniker. In a recent interview with Artrocker, frontman Andy Death attributed the irony of the name to a satirical poke at the indie scene’s style over content and pseud; the general public, however, took the name literally, thinking they were some sort of Simon Cowell shrink-wrapped boy band. Shame on you public, never judge a book by its cover, even if it is dressed-up like Duncan from Blue and all you want to do is piss on its preface. So, Ono “We wanted something so opaque that people could bring their own imagination to the table” Palindromes’ debut offering, ‘Kitty Magic’ EP, is open for debate.

Art-rock is esoteric at best, but Ono have managed to amalgamate its roots with a sustaining blend of psych, new wave punk and electro-pop to produce a conceptual love child that will be endeared to by those who are inclined. Opener ‘Kitty Magic’ throbs with the austere rhythm of a locomotive in full flight with Death’s vocal at the helm screaming “We don’t need no part-time poets, part-time popes, part-time nobodies” in a Lydon circa-PIL fashion, and ‘Eat Your Make Up’ builds with punchy death to disco guitars, and swirls of electronic synth in a Pixies/Talking Heads crossbreed.

“Solfuk” and “The End”, however, do drip heavily from a canvas of art-rock pretension with abstruse sound and vision that can appear laughable after a few listens, otherwise tainting what is a laudable debut of experimental ambition.

Gigwise.com - Album Review: The Balky Mule - ‘The Length of the Rail’

2009-03-16T10:22:00.000Z

Better known for their ever emerging, popularising and esoteric signings, Fatcat Records have been known for taking a chance on their arcane sense for left-field instrumental acts in recent years, acquiring a great deal of industry acclaim in fostering such talent as Vishti Bunyan, Sigus Ros and Animal Collective respectively; therefore, it will come as no surprise that UK ex-patriot Sam Jones’ endeavors as The Balky Mule with ‘The Length of the Rail’ is somewhat of an idiosyncratic addition to the group.

Residing in Melbourne, Australia since 2006, this is multi-instrumentalist Jones’ first physical release in nearly nine years under the alias. The bedroom-based recordings of his eponymous debut album appears to only have been released for keepsake value on his own Archipelago record label in 2000, only really finding its way into a small number of friends’ hands and the muted attention of industry-types.

Despite the clear dormitory confinement to which ‘The Length of the Rail’ was created, The Balky Mule on the whole shows a fair amount of complexity and dexterity within his fragmented and unassuming arrangements. Opener “Dust Bath Birds” thumbs its way through a beautifully mellow acoustic guitar pattern with Sam’s daydream narrative vocal in accompaniment is nothing but endearing upon first listen, cajoling a certain sense of serenity within the listener; but it is the accumulation of sound that is layered, often surreptitiously, within its arrangement that really draws with its lo-fi appeal and willingness to be creative that is felt throughout the album.

On the whole, Jones plays with a very organic and earnest sound that shows curiosity in its cut and paste production. “A Moth” floats along with a warped merry-go round adaptation, softly strummed guitar and faintly inflected narrative, whilst the likes of “Range” jogs along nicely with a pop simplicity and homemade percussion backing and “Tell Me Something Sweet” closes the album on a winsome and unperturbed note.

However, at times, The Balky Mule’s want to buck the trend and eschew convention can be as uncooperative as his moniker entails. ‘The Length of the Rail’ does have a habit of loosing the listener with the likes of “Jisaboke”, “Blinking” and “Illuminated Numbers” as Jones veers haphazardly into an experimental arrangement of juxtaposed sound and noise that neither compels or bewitches.

The problem is, ‘The Length of the Rail’ sits on the cusp of being a thoroughly captivating, enjoyable and well thought out listen at times akin to the likes of a thoroughbred pioneers such as Beck in his resplendent ‘Odelay’ days; but often as not it is found still at the starting gate, unfortunately stumbling and falling over fences like child-ridden seaside donkey, indulgently kicking a rushed collage of uncertain recordings together for interpretation’s sake.

Supersweet.org - Album Review: The Brighton Port Authority - ‘I Think We’re Going To Need A Bigger Boat’

2009-03-05T12:11:00.004Z

If anything, Norman Cook has established quite the musical curriculum vitae if he ever finds himself with a P45 in hand. Jangly guitar pop with the Housemartins; psychedelic urban dub with Beats International; acid jazz with Freak Power; big beach beats as the eminent Fat Boy Slim; and now, he finds himself presiding as producer under the mythical pseudonym The Brighton Port Authority.

Chapter One: As the legend (press release) goes, The Brighton Port Authority formed circa 1970 as a loose jamming unit of musicians with Cook and fellow Brighton-based producer Simon Thornton at the helm. Chapter Two: With fists full of moonshine and disposable cash, a studio was built, parties were held, a guru going by the name of Baba Ganoush was hired, and reel-to-reel recordings were made with a plethora of genre spanning shipmates/artists boarding for one-off voyages. Chapter Three: The tapes are lost to folklore amongst seaside soirees, a drugs bust, loss of interest, lackadaisical attitudes and overwrought hedonism. Chapter Four: The tapes are found by a Dr of music, digitally remastered and revived into ‘I Think We’re Going To Need A Bigger Boat’. Fin.

True legend? Fable? The fictional genius of a press officer thinking outside the box in order the impress one’s superiors with innovative ideas and climb further up the corporate ladder? Truth be told: it’s a concept album if ever there was one.

Despite the two covers (“He’s Frank (slight return)” by The Monochrome Set and Nick Lowe’s “So It Goes”), this is pretty original stuff from established music mogul; and, on paper, working with a number of indie luminaries has done no harm to his reputation. I mean, Mark Ronson has thus far made a career out of defiling classics and repackaging them to the mass market, so why not test the water.

‘I Think We’re Going To Need a Bigger Boat’ undulates in a pool of middle of the road, mid-tempo electronic orchestrations that never really amaze or depart to greater shores of possibility. This is not to say that it is a bad album; far from it. Cook still has the sense for the modular rhythms and dance hooks that made him famous as Fat Boy Slim, but you can’t help but feel a little robber on the possibilities of what could have been with such a great cast.

Iggy Pop lending his dour tones to The Monochrome Set’s post punk epic cockrock playoff on face value should be a good thing, but instead we’re met with a mono-tonal deviation from potential brilliance with a flaccid riff. “Island” on the other hand just drifts into a petered out electronic space oddity, with Justin Robertson (guest vocals) himself evading gravity with a tired Bowie imitation.

The album flows in a languid manner throughout, occasionally picking up pace but without the full zeal that one might expect from Cook and his influence on big beat culture. The album is saved from wreckage by the likes of “Toe Jam” (featuring David Byrne and Dizzee Rascal) and what is a truly infectious calypso-dub-dance effort; Martha Wainwright’s vocals cascading over the love’s lost reggae beats of “Spade”; and Emmy The Great' appearance upon the uplifting Seattle, but they appear to be the only survivors swimming strong in a sea of lost souls.

Jamie T’s ‘Panic Prevention’ was proof that he could adeptly handle tripped out calypso beats with good grace, however even he seems a little lost with direction and vigour upon “Local Town”. But it’s the likes of the nonsensical ramblings of “Jumps The Fence” featuring Connan Mockasin and “Superlover” featuring Cagedbaby that really drag this album into nothingness.

With such an esteemed and trusting career thus far, it appears a bit farfetched that someone of Cook’s calibre would concoct such a preposterous back story in order to shift a few records; a record, which on face value, could be something groundbreaking with the artists for hire. But in the light of listening, it appears feasible to sell the semi-illustrious folktale of the Brighton Port Authority and the mystery of the lost tapes to a new listening audience. If anything, the tale only adds to what is rather a tawdry and wet aural experience, posing not the necessity of a bigger boat, but the need for bigger beats aboard a sinking ship.

Supersweet.org - Single Review: Two Door Cinema Club - ‘Something Good Can Work’

2009-03-01T22:11:00.004Z

Two Door Cinema Club are simply sycophantic and brazen within their approach to music if ‘Something Good Can Work’, their UK debut, is anything to go by. For their approach is somewhat subservient to the dirty disco floor: short, sharp and brilliantly mellifluous to the tone.

Hailing from Bagnor, the seaside-based boys have managed to wash the elemental sun-soaked hooks of The Beach Boys with modish caucasian electronic in order to produce something simply euphonious to the senses, and proving happiness can be found in flourishing harmony.

Think Broken Social Scene does cascading electro-pop, and you’ve almost pigeon-holed the essence of what makes this so endearing and disposable to popular culture.

http://www.supersweet.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=981&Itemid=27

Supersweet.org - Album Review: Howling Bells - 'Radio Wars'

2009-02-23T10:03:00.003Z

After the release of their eponymous debut album in May 2006, Howling Bells became the subject matter of somewhat humble underground mumblings. 'Howling Bells' (via Bella Union) was received with great enthusiasm upon inception by proponents and critics alike, and the band gained a cult following for their beguiling warmth and humility in their brooding orchestrations.

Its essence and perception, however, was somewhat esoteric in its reception. It was something transcendent and aurally consuming, becoming an anthem for the witching hour and those seeking solace and escapism in its expansive sound and emotional seduction.

Whereas their debut commercially fell upon deaf ears, their initial low-level utterances of critical prestige will proliferate with the release of 'Radio Wars' (Independiente); for what has been an industrial hiatus since their initial genesis has only aided and abetted in their creativity and word-of-mouth popularity and consumption.

"Treasure Hunt" opens with to a clarion call of new world order detail of rousing guitars and marching drums, paving the way for the slow burning "Cities Burning Down" and Juanita Stein's velveteen vocal that carries on into a synthetic void of effects and timbres. They still manage to adore with their idiosyncratic precision for absorbing sound aesthetic, layering the likes of "Golden Web" and "Into The Chaos" with subtle arrangements and harmonies that covertly consume the listener; however, where it differs from their debut's darkness, it resonates with the clarity of dawn due to furtherance within dexterity and production.

It is important to note that this is somewhat a collaborative effort with Dan Grech-Marguerat, sometime engineer to Nigel Godrich's production (Air, Radiohead), who has played a dominant part in the mellifluous structure of what has been assembled. Some of the organic sincerity of the band's previous lo-fi work may have been lost; but it's his proficiency that frames their aural tapestry that has forwarded their progression and earnest artistry.

There are many overwhelming expectations for an artist to overcome with the release of their second album. The familiarity to which one has become initially endeared towards with the love and lust of a debut must still be adhered to; but it is pushing said sound with a sense of sagacious progression that is of most import, and why the Howling Bells' 'Radio Wars' should receive the reverence it warrants.

http://www.supersweet.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=1031&Itemid=36&PHPSESSID=628fd30c2ba6f2704effb7211d1c3e2b

Gigwise.com - Album Review: The Whitest Boy Alive - 'Rules'

2009-02-18T22:16:00.003Z

Never judge a book by its cover; however, if The Whitest Boy Alive’s second Lp ‘Rules’ is anything to go by, records can be safely left to one’s own assumptions. Elementarily rendered in black and white, an illustrated queue of impassive-looking humans take the shape of the letter R leading into an open door entitled ‘Rules’. For those seeking meaning and metaphors from their music, many a thought will be provoked by the connotations that could be construed from the artistic symbolism that masquerades the music itself.

Based in Berlin, The Whitest Boy Alive formed in 2003 as an electronic dance music project for Erlend Oye (Kings of Convenience). Obviously this is quite the artistic sabbatical and antipode from his ever endearing folk heritage, however, the group soon metamorphosed into a developed band with no programming by the time of their debut release of ‘Dreams’ in 2007.

Recorded in a bespoke studio in Punta Burros, Mexico, ‘Rules’ has a habit of falling into a middle-of-the-road subgenre due to its antithetical influences. Instead of it dominating any subversive territory, it has a tendency to draw the listener into a hypnotic purgatory of assonant, dulcet tones.

And that’s not to say that it is a bad album by bad musicians - you are just left feeling indifferent towards its cause. For a group that started out as an electronic dance act, ‘Rules’ is somewhat a sedated listen, having a tendency to lean somewhat to the softer side of inoffensive indie-dance music, and a field firmly held by the likes of Sam Sparro.

The electronic influence is felt, but it’s like it has been forced in carelessly to a rather jazzy, white boy funk structure, leaving many a track monotonous and assonant. Their is a certain Kraftwerk-meticulousness about ‘Rules’ that could only be achieved with the precision and austerity of their German habitation, but you can’t help but feel upon every track that something is missing and a little apathetic towards what it is trying to achieve.

Despite ‘Rules’ ringing with a well-meaning cautiousness, the likes of ‘Dead End’ and ‘1517’ burst with exceptional craftsmanship and life; however, the overall body of work is somewhat myopic and painfully restrained as its title and art work may entice you into thinking. The result is a conservatively mellow - albeit mellifluous at times - sounding Hot Chip playing to a white-collared tea party.

Supersweet.org - Single Review: Franz Ferdinand - ‘Ulysses’

2009-02-18T22:13:00.002Z

Circa the turn of the Millennium, a wave of homegrown talent liberated new music with an independence in sound and signing. With the likes of The Libertines and Bloc Party achieving notoriety with their resonating style and record label choice (Rough Trade and Domino respectively), 2004 saw Glasgow’s Franz Ferdinand send further esoteric undulations of reassurance through the body of British Music, as they regimented pop music with an angular art-rock orchestration.

‘Ulysses’, the new single from their forthcoming third album ‘Tonight: Franz Ferdinand’ (via Domino Records), sees the band’s adept austerity towards creation adapt further with the times. A slow-burning articulated introduction, Alex Kapranos’ auspicious vocal deliverance of “I found a new wave” amongst swirls and snaps of electronica will leave opinions polarized as to their change in direction; however, praise must be given for their willingness to further their already alluring sound with the glimmer of a disco ball’s radiance. The resulting camp pop precision and progression is tantamount to their originality, and a testament to their durability and ability to diversify within these precarious times.

http://www.supersweet.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=976&Itemid=27&PHPSESSID=628fd30c2ba6f2704effb7211d1c3e2b

Supersweet.org - Single Review: Ladyhawke - ‘My Delirium’

2009-02-18T22:08:00.003Z

It’s a sign of the times that our generation grasps onto retrospect and the days of yore as a means of escapism from the curt reality of our immediacy; however, some may argue to it is also a time of desperation and dissolution, especially when we pine for the nostalgia of The Eighties for influence and emancipation.

However, Ladyhawke’s pastiche of Eighties synth, accompanied by her euphonious harmonies are something to be endeared towards, as ‘My Delirium’’s resplendent undulations of simplicity will surely leave her revered by pop-proponents.

With her stage moniker deriving from Rutger Hauer’s (sic) 1980’s fantasy film, Pip Brown has managed to encompass a timeless element to her song craftsmanship, embracing simple metronomic beats and structure and layering it and adorning it with a vocal that is both frangible and mellifluous results in a splendiferously soaring effort.

http://www.supersweet.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=930&Itemid=27&PHPSESSID=628fd30c2ba6f2704effb7211d1c3e2b

Supersweet.org - Single Review: The Kills - ‘Tape Song/London Hates You’

2008-11-16T19:53:00.005Z

It is a sign of the times that a band such as The Kills only appear to gain fame and notoriety within the general populace through celebrityism and its viral - Kate Moss - associations, as opposed to the genuine accreditation they deserve for their virtuosity.

Their latest release, “Tape Song”, simmers with minimal ticks of lo-fi staccato guitars before contorting and kicking into a calculated maelstrom of vocal spatters and undulating choruses. B-side, “London Hates You”, however has a meditative malevolence of honesty that emanates with its simplicity, and proof that they should be revered in their own right.

http://www.supersweet.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=904&Itemid=27&PHPSESSID=628fd30c2ba6f2704effb7211d1c3e2b

Supersweet.org - Album Review: Tim And Sam's Tim And Sam Band With Tim And Sam - ‘Put Your Slippers On EP’

2008-11-16T19:47:00.006Z

Tim And Sam’s Tim And Sam Band With Tim And Sam may look like they should be lining up for school dinners as opposed to bedecking a stage with their childlike innocents; they may be the diminutive figures that actually paid attention in music lessons as the rest of the class’s urchin-like occupants use beaters as their weapon of choice; and they may sound like they have acquired most of their instrumental orchestration from their school’s music department, but what they have created in doing so is an ultimately endearing, organic and mellifluous soundtrack that induces eunoia.

‘Put Your Slippers On’ weaves an aural tapestry of naivety and maturation: their unifying ability to assemble a euphonious symposium of childlike instrumentation with a sagaciously adept knowledge of layering is nothing but beguiling. With the rustic warmth of Sigur Ros and the free-falling folk clarity of Tunng, the likes of ‘Join The Dots’ and ‘House By The Sea’ emanate and cajole the senses into a comfortable state of comatose for what is ultimately an ethereal listen.

http://www.supersweet.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=918&Itemid=27&PHPSESSID=628fd30c2ba6f2704effb7211d1c3e2b

Gigwise.com - Album Review: Euros Childs - ‘Cheer Gone’

2008-11-10T12:42:00.010Z

Euro Childs’ ‘Cheer Gone’ has an air of lineal decent upon rotation, distancing himself somewhat from his erstwhile affiliations with a rounded sense of maturation and worldly sensibility.

This, his fourth solo album, further removes him from the playful psychedelic folk symposiums of the defunct Welsh pop-rockers Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci, for a more regressive sound steeped in tradition and judgement.

The distance travelled to Nashville in order to work with Lampchop’s produced Mark Never has been somewhat of an inspiring move for the singer-songwriter, helping hone a very distinctive sound enshrined in the archaic convention of country craftsmanship.

‘Cheer Gone’ swings with a capricious nature in tune to its title: ‘Autumn Leaves’ opens to the sound of keys capitulating and falling to seasonal change, slow-burning with a Ben Folds warmth; ‘Summer Days’ and ‘Her Ways’ both jogging along to the forlorn sentiment once led by The Kinks’ ‘Sunny Afternoon’.

However, foresight can be felt within the musical arrangement and lilt of Childs’ vocal as the tracks’ range and structure minimise with poignancy. ‘My Love Is Gone’ strums with elegiac emotion and forlorn lyricism (“Summer’s here my love is gone/Once was flowers in her hair/Now I can’t find her away where’), standing as a curt reply to the amiable welcome of the opening tracks, and a return to his more folkier stance.

The nefarious intonation of the earthly ‘Farm-Hand Murder’ returns to lurid corners of the raconteurs persona, made darker by the unsettling monotone of his vocal. The overall sober demeanor may appear lack-lustre, however its result is cold-blooded and chilling.

Childs has not deracinated himself fully from his heritage however, with ‘O Ein Daear’ ringing out like like a sombre Welsh choir from the darkest of valleys. Accordingly, it seems a little superfluous and lost in translation, along with his final chipper ditty ‘Sing Song Song’.

In all, Euros has produced something quite distinctive in style and sentiment. The outcome is something incredibly morose, with his retrospective outlook being somewhat remorseful. What is retained most from ‘Cheer Gone’’s resonations is his lust for creating something that ultimately unilluminating, leaving little for new listeners to grasp and retain.

http://www.gigwise.com/reviews/albums/47586/Euros-Childs---Cheer-Gone-Wichita-Released-271008

Gigwise.com - Album Review: James Yuill - ‘Turning Down Water For Air’

2008-10-12T13:30:00.008+01:00

When Bob Dylan released ‘Bring It All Back Home’ in 1965, the album - as well as himself - was greeted with great discontent amongst folk proponents. Dylan was seen to have turned his back on his folk heritage, alienating himself further from his peers and community with the bipartite electric/acoustic album. His message was still the same, however, his supporters’ retort was one of malevolence as he performed at the Newport Folk Festival that year to the contemptuous jeers of “Judas!” that undulated from the crowd.

Dylan’s seemingly musical affair, in hindsight, played devil’s advocate for what was come. Music and its artists have perpetually evolved, and a blinkered vision of genre purity will leave many purblind to the advancements of musical expression. For those of an archaic disposition, James Yuill’s cogent blend of grassroots folk and bedroom produced electronic beats may leave you accepting of the draconian measures that were once imposed upon Dylan’s ostensible public lynching.

However, for those of a more accommodating aural capacity, James Yuill has managed to marry two genres that are at antipodes on the continuum in order to produce a musical affair of a forlorn and intelligible heart. An exponent of his kind, the 27-year-old’s debut to Moshi Moshi ‘Turning Down Water For Air’, marks him as a troubadour of the laptop age.

The album is a mark of the bipolar times in which we live; the title of which is itself a metaphor for snubbing one important element for another. What Yuill has achieved in this is something special and endearing as an individual: an insight into the life and mind of musician scolded by life’s lessons, reposted as a means of cure.

Where Bright Eyes faulted with ‘Digital Urn’ and its considerable lack of restraint that was showed within it esoteric result, Yuill appears emancipated from this problem. Album highlights ‘No Pins Allowed’ swirls with chemically enhanced house arpeggios, breaking only to introduce tempered industrial beats and monochrome vocals; followed by ‘This Sweet Love’ and its palpating elemental rhythm, surreptitiously rendered to life with an electronic lullaby of comforting middle eight blips. These accompanied with the sensitivity shown in expression is unassumingly intoxicating; the unquiet desperation of sorrow that is expressed in ‘Head Over Heels’, ‘The Ghosts’ and ‘No Surprise’ teems with empathetic tones of a soul shedding light upon dark.

Yuill’s self-control in production has resulted in something utterly affecting and pensive to the ear: ‘Turning Down Water For Air’ manages to dissipate the elements of conventional orchestration, amalgamating the incongruous blend of electronics and folk together as a very natural form. Think Nick Drake at Postal Service’s night school of computing, and you are almost out there.

http://www.gigwise.com/reviews/albums/46765/James-Yuill---Turning-Down-Water-For-Air-Moshi-Moshi-Released-131008

Supersweet.org - Album Review: Dawn Landes - ‘Dawn’s Music’

2008-09-30T20:46:00.007+01:00

After the release of ‘Fireproof’ earlier this year on Fargo, Kentucky born Dawn Landes kindled much critical acclaim for her captivating and endearingly astute take on grassroots folk. Now, Landes returns with a re-release of her first album ‘Dawn’s Music’ (October 6th) with the label that first discovered her, Boy Scouting Recordings.

Previously release in 2005 in France, ‘Dawn’s Music’ aurally illustrates her innocent inception onto the music scene, with an album that cascades with further virginal lo-fi qualities and insouciant reverence. Similar to that which was acquainted with ‘Fireproof’, ‘Dawn’s Music’ is a beguiling symposium of sentimental serenity and earnest expression.

Landes’ self-penned and produced orchestrations endear towards an honest listen, dexterous in artistic treatment and integrity, adding to the insight of the life and mind of a songstress deracinated from her small town dwellings. Her adopted home of Brooklyn has inspired her works, honing her skills as a recording engineer; however, Dawn has remained aloof towards the kooky ‘anti-folk’ scene of New York’s artists (Regina Spektor et al.) that encapsulate its frangible walls. Instead, ‘Dawn’s Music’ has embraced heritage and tradition akin to the likes of Woody Guthrie with angelic demure and pertness.

‘Dawn’s Music’ is as diverse within its genre as it is cohesive: from the despondent lo-fi liberation of the opener “Suspicion“, to the harmonious “Kissing Song“, to the cutting candour of the gritty “Scars”, it is celestial normality and essence of Dawn’s vocal deliverance that amalgamates the album with a personal familiarity with each listen.

The release comes with a bonus CD ‘Straight Line’, a seven track disk including the track “Caroline” the song she recorded with friends Hem, as well as the single and fan favourite “Straight Lines”. The bonus CD also includes an incredible country cover of Peter, Bjorn and John’s number 1 hit “Young Folks”.

In all, Dawn manages to bridge a gap that many folk artists fail to employ when trying to break the mainstream, by adding the appeal of pop-simplicity and melody to heartfelt folk honesty. Think of Cat Power’s musical autism combined with Ryan Adam’s heredity and you’re somewhere close to Landes’ orchestral beauty.

http://www.supersweet.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=835&Itemid=36&PHPSESSID=c3f56689eb8cdcd98ec42b226d2b89c2

Gigwise.com - Album Review: City Reverb – ‘Lost City Folk (And The Grace Reunion)'

2008-09-30T20:43:00.004+01:00

Eminent DJ and producer Chris Coco returns to the airwaves with his new project City Reverb and their debut album ‘Lost City Folk (And The Grace Reunion)’ (Dumb Angel Records).

Having played his part in the naissance of acid house frenzy of the late Eighties, the celestial foundation that Coco had built for himself has propelled him from proponent to preeminent of the DJ booth. Working with fellow forlorn and disenchanted Londonites, the conceptual bindings of post-modern angst and observational renderings of inner city life and the soulless characters that awash its ashen streets are what gives ‘Lost City Folk’ its inspiration.

Coco’s reputable turning of oxymoronic ambient dance still plays prominence throughout the album, yet instead of acting as an ascetic restraint, it produces an emancipated canvas for which an eclectic mix of sound and vision are applied.

The result is an expansive sound of earnest edifices: mixing low-key electronic whirls and intricate semi-morose synths, each track amalgamates into an overriding absorption of the spiritual abyss and subterranean homesick blues.

‘Everything Will Be Alright’ opens to the key of minimal Portishead-inspired dissipated beats; sparse additions of strung out guitar and rousing jazz horn sections accompaniment the metronomic drumbeats and electronic whirls that it is founded upon.

Coco’s vocal debut upon the record sways from time to time: melancholic and perspicacious to the overall work and concept of the album, he fits to the puzzle of minimal esoteric production. On the higher ranges he can be abortive as in ‘Everything Will Be Alright’, yet on tracks such as ‘City Of Lights’, he equates perfectly and unstrained to the Eighties dance resonations akin to Alexis Taylor of Hot Chip.

‘City Of Light’ does reach many levels of leftfield yearning: ‘Central Heating’ has a harder rock-based edge; ‘Seventy Three’ dabbles with soulful, nonsensical spoken word poetry; and ‘Star Power’ plays with cavernous Pink Floyd orchestration.

As a body of work, Coco et al. have created a thought provoking, exquisite and quintessential soundtrack to a Sunday morning renaissance of body and mind; delectable comedown lullabies that will aurally ease a generation consumed by excess and the solitudes of city life.

http://www.gigwise.com/reviews/albums/46334/City-Reverb---Lost-City-Folk-Dumb-Angel-Released-240908

Gigwise.com - Album Review: Heartbreak – ‘Lies’

2008-09-30T20:30:00.012+01:00

The nihilistic rage that consumed the late Seventies struggled for many fantasies and ideals: Britain’s economic devolution was in full swing and consumed by the degeneration of its insouciant youth; punk was the middleclass paradigm fought for by an army of working class drones; and “Disco Sucks” adorned many a t-shirt as the genre began to fall upon deaf ears.

However, the essence of disco was still to be embraced in many parts of Europe (Italy, Spain, Germany), evolving with the addition of synthesisers, drum machines and vocoders in order to create the birth of electronic music, and what was to be dubbed “Italo-disco”.

Early Eighties producers such as Casco and Kano shaped the genre using unorthodox production techniques as their poppy, futuristic undulations cascaded through a halcyon era of 1983-4. Now, Heartbreak emerge with their debut album ‘Lies’ (on Lex Records) as an Eighties Italian anachronism.

With the same distinct artifices that enveloped its naissance, the Anglo-Argentine pairing of Ali Renault (production and keys) and Sebastian Muravchik (vocals) have attempted to revive disco’s death with all the camp pomposity, playful passion and melancholy sentiment for a new generation of escapist consumers.

‘We’re Back’ opens as a simple statement of intent: resonating swirls of archaic electronica, elemental key loops and tight drum beats build a retrograde dais for Muravchik’s Soft Cell vocals to project from – “So you’ve heard it all before/We’re back from the disco to the radio.”

With disco’s influence capturing a sense of sensuality and harmony, Heartbreak’s electro stability gives structure and progression to a reflective mirror ball melange: what is often ostentatious in Pet Shop Boys/The Human League vocal-synth intertwining in ‘Robots Got The Feeling’ and ‘Akin To Dancing’, darkens in disposition and brutal complexity in ‘Regret’ and ‘Deadly Pong’.

In all, ‘Lies’ has managed to acquaint itself with everything that was idiosyncratic of the Eighties; skipping hand-in-hand with the flamboyance, fantasy and romanticism of a decade in which time forgot for sentimentality and overriding trivial conservatism. On face value, it has its endearing qualities of flippant susceptibility in want of change and advancement; however, in retrospect, fails to live up to such desires in place of jovial hubris.

http://www.gigwise.com/reviews/albums/46336/Heartbreak---Lies-Lex-Released-290908

Gigwise.com - Album Review: The Dandy Warhols – 'Earth To The Dandy Warhols'

2008-09-04T18:39:00.000+01:00

The Dandy Warhols’ smug bravado and self-regard has had a habit of making them less than aurally approachable in recent releases; 2005’s self-indulgent Odditorium Or Warlords Of Mars – an insouciant soiree of mindless musical meanderings – resulted in a loss of fan affiliates buying into the esoteric delirium and, consequently, the patronage of Capitol Records.

Earth To The Dandy Warhols sees an effrontery return to form for Courtney Taylor-Taylor as singer, songwriter and producer for the Portland, Oregon quartet. In the wake of Ondi Timoner’s DiG! (2004’s documentary film detailing The Dandy Warhols and The Brian Jonestown Massacre’s rise and fall within the record industry, and the love-hate relationship between the two bands), Earth To… resurrects their existence with an album of constructed and maturing opulence. The self-released follow-up to Odditorium… on Beat The World Records, The Dandys continue to endeavour with a psychedelic space-based concept in place of their earlier pop-sensibilities; however, where Odditorium… alienated with its obscurities, Earth To… reins in intrigue and celestial craftsmanship.

Album opener ‘The World The People Together (Come On)’ sparkles with traditional Dandy-pop delights; Courtney’s pitch perfect falsetto flutters amongst a blend of mid-Nineties camp disco delights before falling into the lower vocal range of ‘Mission Control’ and its Numan-inspired haunting simplicity.

Earth To… does have its moments of reverting back to their resonating sound and grounding of The Dandy Warhols Come Down’ and ‘Thirteen Tales From Urban Bohemia’ (the sultry shoegaze of ‘Talk Radio’ and the rousing ‘Now You Love Me); however, it is their interminable ability to shift between a diverse retrospective of influences with forward thinking audacity and orchestration that makes this album something to revere: from the Bowie white boy funk of ‘Welcome To The Third World’ and its sardonic narrative; to the sing-along sunshine simplicity of ‘Mis Amigos’; to ‘The Legend Of The Last Of The Outlaw Truckers AKA The Ballad Of Sheriff Shorty’ and its Nick Cave-esque sotto voce, their ability to amalgamate a number of musical fields seamlessly into one and other is something else.

Earth To… albeit impressive as it is diverse and intertwining does not escape impunity from its quasi-psychedelic trips: whereas the majority of the 13 track noise pop experiment is nothing but endearing, the monotonous drivel of ‘Valerie Yum’ and ‘Musee D’ Nougat’ closing the album are superfluous to its artistry.

The interminable creativity and experimental elements that entwine each track enables Earth To… to transcend any average comeback album; in a display of resilience and unwillingness to conform to the predispositions of commercial valuing, their liberation from major label shackles has resulted in one of their most impressive pieces of work to date.

Gigwise.com - Album Review: Pivot – ‘O Soundtrack My Heart’

2008-08-30T22:22:00.004+01:00

Disposing of conventional thought since the late Eighties, Warp Records’ pioneering philosophies and aptitude for electronic music has resulted in a number of its illustrious proponents – Aphex Twin, Autechre, et al. – being purveyed on its label. Their recent deracination from the purist’s sense of the genre may have left some of its highbrow enthusiasts with a notion of being forsaken, however, they have never the less been innovative in their search: Maximo Park stirring indie with its metronomic pace; hip-hop tripping-out to the electronic beats of Flying Lotus; and Battles equating it within their propensity towards math-rock.

Having originally formed in the late Nineties, Australian three-piece Pivot have remained hidden from the international radar until now. Their debut album, ‘Make Me Love You’, released in August 2005 went down with glorious praise Down Under, and now this antipodean trio (the band now based in Sydney, Perth and London), who signed a 16 album deal earlier this year with Warp, aim to do the same on an global scale with ‘O Soundtrack My Heart’.

Their retrograde stance on beat simplicity over esoteric sound confusion is something to behold. In a genre where avant-garde audacity can alienate the listener, Pivot’s intelligible restrain aids to reign in on progressive electronica’s bewildering disorder of inaudibility.

There is concept behind the creation. ‘O Soundtrack My Heart’ does exactly what its title entails: it romanticises over the emotions that are evoked through one of our most complex of organs. ‘October’ opens the album with the naive sincerity of a virtuous soul; akin to Kraftwerk’s Radioactivity, the pulsating ‘Geiger Counter’-esque introduction converges into undulations of ethereal guitars that shimmer against a back drop of minimally altered drumbeats.

Tracks burst with technological spatters of electronic sensitivity, exposing a kaleidoscopic vacuum of emotion. From the haunting incantations of ‘In The Blood’, ‘Fool In Rain’ and ‘Nothing Hurts Machine’ that resonate with a twisted Stanley Kubrick plotline, to the hypnotic lullabies of ‘Sweet Memory’ and ‘Love Like I’, each track induces a celestial detachment and capitulation to the remoteness of human endeavour and feeling.

‘O Soundtrack My Heart’ can appear aurally aloof at times, but it only abets in its ability to centre one’s own thoughts against Pivot’s creative intelligibility; their sagacious aptitude for infusing leftfield experimentation into an opulent soundscape of versatile arrangements is a beguiling effort at new-wave romanticism for an electronic age.

http://www.gigwise.com/news/45812/Pivot---%5CO-Soundtrack-My-Heart%5C-Warp-Released-180808

Supersweet.org - Interview Feature: Anthony Silvester of XX Teens

2008-08-21T22:36:00.004+01:00

“I went to art school to be an artist.”

Change can be redemptive, yet not without a sense of being divisive and painful. The counterculture movements of the 1960s’ youth reformed many of the conservative norms that were bestowed by its foregoing generation. A revolutionary voice echoed throughout the streets for social change, embodied in a new-wave of attitudes, beliefs, and art; liberalism was not only a political principal but a passion for a fashion, and artists began to visualise a new world.

XX Teens herald from a long line of British bands born from an Art School tradition of creative invention and free-thinking. The autonomous ideals inculcated within such institutions have previously led scholars – such as The Clash – into innovators and bellwethers of a generation.

With the release of their graduating album Welcome To Goon Island, Anthony Silvester of the XX Teens talks to SuperSweet.org about art, music and politics…

“I went to art school to be an artist,” Anthony informs with the wistful intonation of a person who might have lost their artistic temperament. “But you are what you is, and you’re in a band: you’re a musician.”

The core of the quintet met at Art College in Southend, where their meetings through mutual friends and subfusc studios resulted in the procreation of Xerox Teens in 2003 (a moniker that was soon shortened).

As the XX Teens, the band were still relatively unheard of until the release of the satirical inculcations of “How To Reduce The Chances Of Being A Terror Victim” in February. In light of our current political and social climate, their precariously cogent tongue-in-cheek edifies aided the band in stepping out of the underground art scene: “I think that’s why we were so underground for so long, because we weren’t sure if we wanted to be in a band…we still wanted to be artists.”

Many of the band’s initial gigs were played within the confines of art galleries in and around the London area as to remain close to their roots. However, being extolled by the likes of Zane Lowe resulted in XX Teens being deracinated and thrown into the aural limelight.

Joining The Long Blondes on their UK tour earlier this spring, the XX Teens were able to reach out to the wider audience of their pop-inclined attendees: “Respect to them [The Long Blondes]. They’re really into their obscure music so saw us as an underground band,” Anthony praised, “[the] record company wanted them to take a more commercial band with them.

“The crowd up north were more up for fun and what we had to offer. The further south you go the more people cross their arms until the band that they have come to see. As with most support bands, you do tend to get spat on a little bit; but we have had worse support slots.”

Anthony, like any artist, appears insouciant and undeterred by this experience: “I don’t feel that we’ve personally struggled for our art; it’s all still quite new and exciting for us.”

One struggle that he does admit though is the one within the music industry. Having signed to Mute Records in 2007 and gaining recognition from an underground art rock scene, they are a “little more known now,” Anthony humbly discloses, “Mute are pretty good, but the industry has talked itself down for so long that everyone has began to believe it.

“The government can try to reduce illegal downloading, but it doesn’t really affect bands like us selling a small number of albums; it affects the Big Boys like Coldplay and Robbie Williams who are funding us. There will always be people making music whether they are getting paid to or not.

He continues to talk about what art means to the band, their passion for it, and the metaphoric package in which they wish to bind their work with. “We feel that there are other elements to us that aren’t found in others. We won’t be a band that constantly gigs as to make the ones that we do do more special – more of a show element,” he divulges.

From the dancers that will be joining them on stage when they return in November; to the allegorical artwork as illustrated by Adam Latham; to the short film skits that play the part for their music videos, they appear to be creative in all elements of artistic sensory articulation. “We’ll always be working on other projects…we’re looking to launch our website goonisland.tv soon to help explain the album a bit better.”

Welcome To Goon Island is not for the aurally purblind; described as a metaphor for modern day Britain, it is scattered and unsure at times, bumbling under the hegemonic decadence, influences and ideals of its forefathers; however it does show glimmers of being astute and of independent, liberal thinking. Which poses the question: are XX Teens a political band?

“We’re not Rage Against The Machine,” Anthony chortles. “Politics is in the world and we have our opinions. “For Brian Haw” is explicit, and to finish the album on it is a statement, and hearing that puts the other songs in quite a different light.”

The driving baseline and warped electronica of the three-minute, Cooper Temple Clause-esque introduction confluences into the loquacious political activism of Brian Haw himself. The monologue of spoken word street poetry details his reasons for campaigning against the ‘War On Terror’ that the UK and US governments ‘have inflicted on Afghanistan and Iraq.’ (www. http://www.parliament-square.org.uk/about.html)

“I see him [Brian Haw] everyday and he’s quite fantastic,” Anthony explains with sense of hope and reverence. “Rich Cash wrote it and spoke to him. They have struck-up a genuine friendship.

“He’s [Brian Haw] the only guy who can protest in Parliament Square. When he’s gone, no one will be able to do that and the rights to protest outside will be lost. They’ve [The Government] almost trapped him; we should have call the song “Free Brian Haw” instead.”

And which way does Anthony politically swing: “Like any sensible person, I’m a Left-minded Liberal…”

Whether they’re Rage Against The Machine or not, XX Teens are not for the aurally blinkered. Their candid views and artistically liberated musical orchestration illuminates with the colour, veracity and idealism that the counter-culture always has. They may not have become orthodox artists, but they do embody the principles of being one: emancipated and expressive.

http://www.supersweet.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=787&Itemid=39

Supersweet.org - Album Review: XX Teens – ‘Welcome To Goon Island’

2008-08-11T11:35:00.003+01:00

The current political climate that we find ourselves submerged within is wearing us thin; we are weathered by the threat of terror, financial fears and diplomatic fabrications on a daily basis. The punk revolt of the Seventies may now be something that is occluded within the history books and manifestos of yore, however, its ethics, delusions and artistic temperament still inspire under our sardonic times.

After the successes of the satirical inculcations of “How To Reduce The Chances Of Being A Terror Victim”, XX Teens precociously stepped out of the underground art scene with their impassively sagacious tongue-in-cheek edifies in order to release their debut LP Welcome To Goon Island.

Heralding from the Art School tradition of creative invention (the core of the quintet meeting at college in Southend), their graduating album is not for the aurally blinkered. As is art, it is emancipated and free from the trammels of everyday thinking and traditional musical arrangements, illuminated by colour, veracity and versatility.

‘The Way We Were’ opens with a settling, glittering haze of illusory harp arrangements before breaking into a solid rhythm section, staccato guitars leads and vocal nostalgia. The oeuvre of simple drum timings and driving bass lines are a common foundation for the album’s milieu, allowing spatterings of idiosyncratic guitars and bombastic musical additions in order to beguile and perplex their audience.

The perpetually changing rhythms and haunting electronic engineering that cascades through ‘Round’; the dub cadence and horn section of ‘Ba (Ba-Ba-Ba)’; and the animated production of ‘My Favourite Hat’ do not make for the easiest of listens, however, do intrigue and endear with the XX Teens willingness to experiment with all manner of sound and vision.

Single selections ‘Onkawara’ and ‘Only You’ add for stability amid a spurious and eclectic eulogy of obeisance to the middling listener, along with the Beatles via Mighty Boosh psychedelic rise and fall of the synth drenched ‘Sun Comes Up’.

The apoplectic and loquacious Mark E. Smith-inspired vocal spats are intrinsic to the fluidity of the track listing; however, as charismatic as they may be, at times they can stutter and stumble too far into a charitable The Fall memorabilia collection.

Welcome To Goon Island has been described as a metaphor for modern day Britain, and in some respects this is true: scattered and unsure at times, it bumbles under the hegemonic decadence, influences and ideals of its forefathers; however it does show glimmers of hope, pride and liberal thinking (such as the spoken word poetry and political activism of album closer ‘For Brian Haw’). Welcome To Goon Island is, as most art, a statement: what some may see as enticing and innovative, others will no less view its form as ostentatious and bewildering.

http://www.supersweet.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=772&Itemid=27&PHPSESSID=c3f56689eb8cdcd98ec42b226d2b89c2

Gigwise.com - Festival Review: Festival Internacional de Benicàssim 2008

2008-07-24T15:53:00.004+01:00

The car’s air conditioning served as a temperate and ephemeral vacuum for the heat that saturated Benicàssim as its movement was brought to a brief halt before a zebra crossing. Our necks snapped forward, limp through lack of sleep as we stirred within the restraints of our seatbelts, mouths open and dry, eyes purblind to what lay before us.

The Festival Internacional de Benicàssim (FIB) was now into its 14th year, and more Britons than ever were invading the usually tranquil Valencian municipality for several days of camping, live music and blithe behavior. Locals watched on from the diminutive amounts of shade that covered the narrow side streets with an unnerved expression weathering their faces, perplexed by our abundant presence. We bring money, but at what cost? Is Benicàssim a modern day Benidorm for an alternative generation?

On site, we are ushered along fence-lined paths towards camp. The ground is arid from the scorching sun that hangs heavy in the sky; shards of dust disappear into the ether from the festival goers that march lethargically in its wait. Little is worn as we all adorn a lining of perspiration upon our skin. An overwhelming sense of community is felt: benevolent acts of assistance are observed as friends and acquaintances meet. Everyone pitches-in in order to aid the processes of pitching-up. We all have one thing in common: the fellowship of music.

Thursday eased us all in with a late start to proceedings in the sufferable humidity. Gypsies line the walk ways towards the main arena, selling everything from knocked-off merchandising, barbecued food stuffs and nocturnal aids to bolster the entertainment that was already on offer. Nada Surf, however, played Pied Piper to the oncoming crowd that entered around 9pm; arriving on the Escenario Verde (main) stage with the setting sun as a backdrop. With Martin Wenk of Calexico on keys, the American quartet entertain a crowd that perpetually grew in number throughout their enthusiastically received set of sovereign pop. With this being their fourth appearance at the festival, they pleased onlookers with the likes of ‘What Is Your Secret’, ‘Popular’, ‘I Like What You Say’, and ‘Inside Of Love’, along with their ability to address the minimal (in comparison to the British contingent) number of locals in their native tongue.

Night had set as the lights went up once again on the main stage, illuminating the dark, expansive sky as Icelander’s Sigur Rós filled the stage with their presence and poise. Jónsi Birgisson’s vocal falsetto set against the band’s ethereal orchestration fluttered beautifully into the eternal abyss that consume the sky to lachrymose effect. ‘Svefn-G-Englar’, ‘Gobbledigook’, ‘Takk’ and ‘Hoppípolla’ fluctuate with epic waves of glorious builds and solemn falls, every last note tangible to the souls that reverberated in time as flecks of confetti floated and flickered angelically upon and above a crowd embraced in a spiritual unity.

The mood is soon changed as Black Lips stumble on stage, spitting and brawling out a set of rambunctious tracks. Their fifth studio album, Good Bad Not Evil, is given a good airing to a crowd drunk on elation and generous metric measures at a dear cost. Many bounce – some shuffle elegantly – along to the garage-punk sounds of the carefree hits of ‘Oh, Katrina’, ‘Bad Kids’ and ‘Cold Hands’ that stutter through their decrepit equipment. Much of what they have produced is worn and labored, instruments clashing for broken air space. Most of what is played lacks variation and dynamics; but it is a performance that would arrest any party.

For those of us who managed to endure the heat, alcohol and party substitutes into the early hours – by 3am the venue appeared to be a war zone, casualties laying exposed through a comatose brought on by overindulgence – waited with an anticipation that could barely be contained by the small surroundings of Vodafone FIB Club tent. New York’s Battles were due to confuse and fascinate with their equation of experimental math rock and electo sorcery. They are intuitive throughout, seamlessly improvising an already very live sound with avant-garde audacity with loops are hooks that defy logic and consciousness. Amplifiers hum and pulsate as the ever altering rhythms and mantras as ‘Tras’, ‘Tonto’, ‘Mirrored’ and ‘Atlas’ whirl vociferously.

Friday saw the Sun break onto the distance horizon, evaporating the last of the clouds that loitered in the morning sky; its effects were similarly seen and felt by many of those still in fiesta mode stumbling across the site and surrounding area from the night previous. Bodies rose in broken harmony, strenuously appearing from heat absorbed tents that accommodated them. Many spilled out into the town in search of solitude and shade in order to repent and revive what was left of their battered souls; some of us lusted for strong coffee in hope of a sense of sobriety.

Vincent Vincent and The Villains opened the day’s entertainment to a humble gathering under the FiberFIB.com tent of those that struggled through the day/previous night’s partying – myself being one of them. Vincent et al. croon through the pickings of their recently released rockabilly debut, Gospel Bombs, before ex-member Charlie Waller and The Rumble Strips follow with a more crowd engaging set including ‘Motorcycle’, ‘Girls And Boys In Love’, and ‘Time’.

Scores of electro deviants gathered excitedly as Metronomy’s computer formatted beats jaunted the wide-eyed and dribbling crowd. ‘My Heart Rate Rapid’ and ‘Holiday’ helped swoon a crowd with their tight compugeek gyrations.

Such was the anticipation of his presence, an assembly of youthful fans gathered at the main stage’s temporarily gated entrance awaiting Pete Doherty’s vacillating performance four hours before they he was billed to appear. Babyshambles split the crowd into those who were drunk and disillusioned by obsessive love and luster, and those whom watched on with sobering cynicism. Tracks were strung out awkwardly with Pete often forget his lines as the rest of the “‘Shambles” on display appear tactless and timeless. In all, ‘Killamangiro’, ‘Albion’, ‘Delivery’, ‘Beg, Steal or Borrow’ and their surprisingly punctual stage entrance play well to the lovers and believers; but it was a performance that lacked substance, abusing and disheartening hopeful onlookers which laboriously played up to their idiosyncrasies that have become far too common place.

New York Dolls followed, with David Johansen showing Pete Doherty what is meant by rock and roll durability and longevity. Comprising of two original members (the other being Sylvian Sylvian), they returned wrinkled and eroded after almost 30 years to play their unabashed brand of glam-punk rock that gained them notoriety in the Seventies. ‘Personality Crisis, ‘Trash’ and ‘We’re All In Love’ echo reminiscently amongst fan.

Hot Chip’s occupancy of the 11pm slot in the dance tent drew a crowd of epic proportion. Bodies pressed uncomfortably up against one another, the hot, mephitic atmosphere ensued for a riotous reception for the Londoners. Festival witnesses threw conventional thinking and individuality to one side as they bounced in unison to the modulated beats and rhythms of ‘Boy From School’, ‘Ready For The Floor’ and set accolade ‘Over And Over’. In all it was a sterling performance only to be left tainted and absorbed of its party antics by an unnecessary and inert cover of Prince’s ‘Nothing Compares 2 U’, killing what would have been rapturous plaudits.

Almost a decade and a half had passed since My Blood Valentine stood on stage together in order to purvey their cult “shoe gazing” wall of sound. They pay little attention to one and others’ presence as their overwhelming symphonies of tumultuously distorted sounds echo arduously in the form of fan favourites ‘Soon’ and ‘Only Shallow’.

By Saturday, everyone looked to be suffering. Festival proponents slump in the heat, force-feeding themselves with a variety of provisions that are on offer around the area. Communication is sparse; wasted breath on palavered conversation only hinders the physical renaissance that is needed to continue. We all march on, albeit automaton and devoid of any emotion.

The Ting Tings, however, drew a huge crowd to the dance tent early on into the afternoon. Their two dimensional repertoire exhilarates those in attendance with a display of simple, penetrating pop rhythms. ‘That’s Not My Name!’ and ‘Great DJ’ spark exultant revellers into movement, even if what they had to offer is a little insipid in dexterity.

Swedish singer-songwriter José González played to a packed audience in the FIB Club tent. Mouths opened and eyes welled throughout at the sheer aural beauty that exuded from the stage. A pool of tears would have gushed from its parameters had it not been for the inhibiting factor of the insatiable heat. Seldom words are spoken amongst those who are there; the silence only broken by appreciative applause after the likes of ‘Slow Moves’, ‘Crosses’, ‘In Our Nature’ and his deft cover of Massive Attack’s ‘Teardrop’ to close.

Upon their return to Benicàssim, the main stage played host to the ever increasing popularity of The Kills and their emancipated maelstrom of contorted musical composition. Opener ‘U.R.A. Fever’ was one of the many tracks on display from their new album Midnight Boom. ‘Last Day Of Magic’, ‘Cheap And Cheerful’, ‘No Wow’ and ‘Fried My Little Brains’ sagaciously pour from battered amps with iconoclastic endeavors. Hotel and VV often face one and other in a platonically introverted harmony throughout the set, yet they still remain thoroughly engaging.

The night, however, was to be stolen by The Raconteurs’ opulent performance. Jack White genuinely appears happy and at home with Benson and company for musical comrades. Intuitive improvisations of ‘Rich Kid Blues’ and ‘Blue Veins’ with moments of sheer impudent talent only lay way to the ecstasy inducing ‘Steady As She Goes’, ‘Broken Boy Soldier’ and ‘Salute Your Solution’. Omnipotence was grasped as they gathered at the front of the stage, embracing not only each other, but a crowd enraptured as they took a bow to the ecstatic appreciation that exuded.

Gnarls Barkley concluded the main stage’s celebrations, however, failed to invigorate onlookers. The hits (‘Crazy’, ‘Smiley Faces’ and ‘Who’s Gonna Save My Soul’) hit accord as Cee-Lo’s soulful vocal ascend beautifully. But it is the lack of full orchestration that is missed from the performance until they cover Radiohead’s spellbinding ‘Weird Fishes/Arpeggi’.

Sunday: It’s safe to say we all look battered and bruised. Physically we are present, mentally and spiritually we are somewhere else. Rest and rehabilitation is sought but unfound. A steady day of musical morality and virtue is needed.

The National opened with a rousing version of ‘Start A War’, as the FiberFIB.com tent filled slowly but surely to the rafters, before they break into the lyrical splendor of ‘Brainy’; Matt Berninger’s vocal clarity illustrating a lost soul, forlorn and achingly fragile – something we could all relate to. Their orchestration is earnest with a touching perfection as our souls evaded us, frangible to the lucid takes of ‘Fake Empire’, ‘Mistaken For Strangers’ and ‘Mr. November’. “Tired and wired we ruin too easy” Berninger utters in ‘Apartment Song’; surely a mantra and a dressing for a weekend of excessive fun.

Addressing us all as “Friends”, Canadian poet and chivalrous gent, Leonard Cohen, took to the main stage. His haunting baritone and lyrical eloquence rang harmoniously amongst a crowd in a state of paralysis; silence ensued as a mark of respect for the living legend’s articulacy, only to be broken by reverential applause. Delicate arrangements only added to his legacy of spoken word poetry: ‘Dance Me To The End Of Love’, ‘Everybody Knows’ and ‘Susanne’ only amount to the shattering ‘Hallelujah’. I for one perpetually chain smoking in order to dry the tears that welled-up in my eyes that bulged with emotion. I felt like a puzzle of missing parts as I sat on the floor trying piece myself together, a solitary tear trickling slowly down my cheek.

Sheffield’s working class hero Richard Hawley crooned through an impressive set of upbeat rockabilly, forever endearing the crowd with politeness, sincerity and astute performances of ‘Valentine’ and ‘Tonight The Streets Are Ours’ as set highlights.

For those inclined, French electo-dance duo Justice endeavored to animate the crowds of party revelers that spilled far beyond the dance tent; however, many gathered in a great magnitude within the grounds enclosing the main stage to capture a moment of romanticism provided by Morrissey.

Launching into the opener ‘The Last Of The Famous International Playboys’, Morrissey proved that he had not lost what made him infamous. In all, it was a consuming performance, charmingly self-assured and well rehearsed. He still pushes all the right/wrong buttons with impudence: nonchalantly shunning the countless lovers in the crowd with jovial and juvenile banter, propounding and enforcing his political views, sexually ambiguous comments, vegetarian standpoints, and scrutiny of modern music: “Some of you hear are listening to techno…very intelligent,” he utters with dismay.

Morrissey struts around the stage omnipotently with charismatic grace. The set rings with perfection, his vocal inflecting only on the odd occasion, as they perform renditions of ‘That’s How People Grow Up’ and ‘First Of The Gang To Die’ amongst a plethora of ever alluring solo hits. But it’s the rejuvenation of The Smiths classics ‘Ask’ and ‘How Soon Is Now?’ for the finale that steal the show and the four days of wonderful performances with Morrissey touchingly stretched out on the floor, head in hands as the guitars whirl vociferously.

With a great number of Britons insouciantly disregarding the many festivals on home grounds in exchange for sun and salvation, Benicàssim’s popularity will only continue to increase in the near future as word spreads about this festival/vacation destination that has been heavily geared towards proponents of the British music scene. However, the worry of greed and capitalist gain could taint its surroundings, with a minority of Brits consuming and infesting its beautiful surrounding with a disposable income and impertinent attitude towards cultural differences. Now we all dream of better days and for our evading memories to return.

http://www.gigwise.com/reviews/live/44880/thursday-170708-sigur-ros-battles-black-lips-@-benicassim-spain

http://www.gigwise.com/reviews/live/44883/friday-180708-my-bloody-valentine-hot-chip-babyshambles-@-benicassim-spain

http://www.gigwise.com/reviews/live/44885/saturday-190708-the-raconteurs-gnarls-barkley-the-kills-@-benicassim-spain

http://www.gigwise.com/reviews/live/44886/sunday-200708-morrissey-leonard-cohen-justice-@-benicassim-spain

Supersweet.org - Album Review: Sparkadia – ‘Postcards’

2008-06-16T00:49:00.002+01:00

Having signed to Jamie Davis’ British label Ark Recordings in 2007 after he heard a copy of their demo being played at a friend’s wedding, you would not be blamed for thinking that there is a serendipitous air of optimism that flutters around Sparkadia.

Recorded in London’s Miloco Studio with producer Ben Hillier (Doves, Blur, U2, Suede), their debut album ‘Postcards’ soundtracks what it would be like to live under a Tory-led Britain in this time of cultural bewilderment: the hopes that initially resonate upon its first appeal fritter with its insipid realities.

Alex Burnett’s warming tenor ways heavy upon each track, with his opulent intonations echoing harmoniously against its inoffensive indie-pop styling. From its inception, its qualities are seemingly endearing: ‘Too Much To Do’ opens with a Franz Ferdinand-esque jaunting guitar that trickle against carefree choral melodies, followed by the twee harmonies and steady build of the enchanting ‘Morning Light’ akin to the likes of Doves and Elbow.

It is important to note that ‘Postcards’ is an assiduously composed piece of work, sycophantic towards the radio friendly airwaves and pleasing to the ear of those who find themselves satisfied and fulfilled by the likes of The Feeling, Terry Wogan and Sunday morning strolls.

With such cheerful pop-foolery comes an atmosphere of melancholy mediocrity as the album rotates further, with each track leading off from where the latter concluded. The result is something that is easily disposable and washed with a watercoloured pastel effect.

Pushed to the right demographic, Sparkadia’s ‘Postcards’ will reap the rewards of their pop-sensibilities and resplendent melodies with the average BBC Radio 2 listener; but when the potential capabilities of tracks such as ‘Animals’ feel splintered as a result of scraping one’s fingers along the bottom of a well-worn Coldplay/Snow Patrol barrel, this may be too Conservative for some.

Gigwise.com - Album Review: Biffy Clyro – ‘Singles 2001–2005’

2008-06-13T00:56:00.002+01:00

Before signing to 14th Floor Records for the release of their fourth album ‘Puzzle’, Biffy Clyro were, respectively, shadows haunting the basements of independent record label Beggars Banquet, surviving on hearsay and the word-of-mouth aesthetic of an ever-increasing fan base that indulged in prophesying their future success.

The achievements that were attained from their major label backing are undeniable: ‘Puzzle’ reached number one in the UK album charts and the band reaped the rewards of worldwide acclaim with a succession of support slots with the likes of The Who, Rolling Stones and Muse.

However, life was not all bad in the minor leagues: Biffy roughed it out, earned their keep and crafted their art as illustrated in their latest release, ‘Singles 2001-2005’ (released on July 7th on Beggars Banquet), a selection of personally handpicked singles from their pre-luminary days.

‘Singles…’ adds as a concise retrospective of their earlier work as one of Britain’s aspiring underground talents. Their dexterous ability to do away with traditional time signatures has lead to an idiosyncratic orchestration of tracks that stutter and stumble capriciously between slow/fast, heavy/harmonious.

Their complex and interwoven structures of interchanging riffs and vocal melodies throughout each track have a surprising fluidity and grace about them – similar to that of a baton being passed between a jacked-up 4x100m Olympic team, they are volatile and vigorous.

With the early day cadence of the affecting ‘57’ and ‘Justboy’, to the calculated ingenuity and gritty scores of the latter ‘Toys, Toys, Toys, Choke, Toys, Toys’ and ‘Eradicate The Doubt’, Biffy Clyro have show multiplicity in writing tracks opulent in purity and divine innovation.

Their ability to shift dynamics, pace and influences with a propensity akin to the likes of The Pixies and Fungazi, Biffy Clyro make for an extremely compelling listen: the disjointed syncopation of altered rhythms of the aptly titled ‘Glitter And Trauma’; the radio-friendly captivities and stadium invading chorus of ‘Questions and Answers’; and ‘There’s No Such Thing As A Jaggy Snake’ undulating with a detached beauty of hardcore aggression and cathartic vocal strides, go to show that this “Best Of” illustrates that their road well travelled lead to reverence that was merited with their recent successes, and the supposition of greater things to come.

Gigwise.com - Album Review: So So Modern – ‘Friends and Fires + 0000EP’s’

2008-06-13T00:47:00.005+01:00

As night saturated their hometown of Wellington, New Zealand, a collective known as So So Modern rouse in Camden somewhat purblind and perplexed to the previous night’s events. The courteous hospitality of one flat sharing Londonite led them to the sanctuary of his apartment; serendipity prevailed and began to pave the way of their future.

The humble abode was shared with Transgressive boss Toby, whom, literally, stumbled across them that morning, played host to one of the band’s most electrifying performances in the very same room in which he found them. So So Modern were signed, and their awe-aspiring DIY manifesto towards gigging took them around the world in 2007, performing over 200 shows and supporting the likes of Deerhoof, Dirty Projectors and CSS along with the release of a number of EPs receiving propitious critiques.

‘Friends and Fires + 0000EP’s’ collates the band’s work thus far in a reverse chronology, profiling their evolution of sound and symmetry following their underground successes. Their ability to be experimental and inventive without the usual bombastic attire that such a sound can be distorted and adorned with – often isolating what is created from the listener – is an admirable quality: the filtration of retrograde garage aggression, elemental math rock, no-wave bohemia and new-wave electronica may appear indulgent and aurally opaque, but the lucidity and precision with which it is executed is to be revered.

From the At The Drive-in overture of ‘Skeleton Dances’ and its blistering guitars and fistfuls of punchy vocal shrieks; to the binary bit-rate composition of ‘The Love Code’ and ‘Racer X’; the post-punk feverishness of ‘Loose Threads And Theramins’ akin to the likes of Q And Not U and Punish The Atom; or The Faint-esque ‘Future Cities’ and its Casio renaissance, So So Modern have inherently approached their oeuvre with an expansive palette towards a blip-based sound.

Yet it is their proficient ability to equalise their structures with waves of incongruous synths, lap-tech intelligibility and guitar intricacies that leaves the likes of better-known advocates (Klaxons, Foals, Late Of The Pier) within their genre rather dulcet and synthetic in comparison.

Supersweet.org - Album Review: Flying Lotus – Los Angeles

2008-06-11T21:39:00.002+01:00

Los Angeles has had a habit of weaving a tapestry of counter-cultural movements within its modern music epoch; the oeuvre may have changed between the decades, each with its own faction, manifesto and iconoclastic heroes leading onto the next: the lost souls of the psychedelic Sixties’ rock era, idealistic and free; the rambunctious Seventies’ punk scene and its acrimonious rebellion; hip-hop’s social discourse of the Eighties, preaching for equality over ignorance; Nineties’ grunge and its animosity towards societal norms. Each decade’s scores indelibly etched upon the walls of the city that inspired its raconteurs. And now, its inherent ability to bear such pioneering opuses has lead to it being redefined again once again.

After the tantalising preludes of 1983 and Reset, Flying Lotus’ full length Warp Record debut Los Angeles beguiles from its inception. His idiosyncratic fusion of leftfield psychedelia, off-time electronic beats and loose quasi-trip hop arrangements are as addictive as they are inspiring.

As a body of work, Los Angeles is a vacuum for the emotions: aurally imaginative, its esoteric sounds and misplaced beats cascade, flirting with the senses and evoking confusion to the point of clarity. “Comet Course” flares with a glitched-out laptop aesthetic, warped tech beats colliding with a tripped-out dub bass; the lush analogue waves that transcend an opulent sound-scape in “Golden Diva”; the fluid bass line of “Testament” restrained by the earnest vocals of Gonja Sufi: compositions that leave the mind celestially distorted with colour, imagery and escapism.

From the spatially aware dub-tech of “Riot” to the organic legal highs of “GNG BNG” and “Parisian Goldfish”, it’s Flying Lotus’s masterful display of restraint in producing beats that are not over-cooked, self-congratulatory and myopic. Instead, they are achingly natural, like a mother’s heartbeat, unconscious and infusing.

http://www.supersweet.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=685&Itemid=27

Supersweet.org - Single Review: XX Teens – ‘The Way We Were’

2008-06-11T21:16:00.004+01:00

After the success of the satirical inculcations of “How To Reduce The Chances Of Being A Terror Victim”, XX Teens return with the nostalgic “The Way We Were” and all the bombastic teachings akin to the Art School tradition.

Free from the trammels of everyday orchestration, XX Teens have already made quite a name for themselves amongst art-rock proponents with their aurally cogent eccentricities, Devo-inspired idiosyncrasies and loquacious Mark E. Smith spats. However, you can’t help but feel that what may be beguiling and innovative to some, will no less be ostentatious and misinterpreted by many; as is art.

http://www.supersweet.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=645&Itemid=27

Supersweet.org - Interview Feature: Jamie Hince of The Kills

2008-05-09T12:03:00.011+01:00

“You have to give it everything you’ve got; It’s life or death out there.”

I sat beside myself, with hindsight, on a black sofa that did little to offer the comfort and support to the nerves that raced through me like a wave of esoteric impulses. I could see myself stare with purblind eyes at the items that lay before me: an blank notepad and pen encouraging work; Dictaphone; laptop; mobile phone; a list of unordered questions haphazardly scribbled down in an illegible scrawl that could only be familiarised with by the writer. They were placed in an orderly fashion at right angles to one and another upon the floor, covered with items of research in a cryptic order, shards of rolling tobacco, coffee stains, cigarette ash and paranoid thoughts – all fugitive of their rightful file, time and place.

The phone rang with a number foreign to its memory. An American voice dictated in a machine-like manor information that had already been declared; in short, an interview with Jamie Hince of The Kills at 3:30pm.

Their first encounter was a chance meeting at a gig in South London around the turn of the Millennium: Alison Mosshart was on a tour of Europe with her band at the time, Discount, a punk rock band from her home state of Florida. As the story goes, Jamie – who had recently disbanded with his group Scarfo – watched Alison’s performance with beguile.

The connection that was made that night was of love, lust and desire, but not of a libidinous nature; however, it was one that wished to procreate music, a scene, a lifestyle, a sense of understanding and unity: something new.

The two exchanged details and began their transatlantic correspondence: letters, artwork, tapes (of their music; of themselves musing in solitary conversation), and the occasional phone call was sent. What was received marked the beginning: The Kills.

A relationship was formed over a platonic harmony, understanding and infatuation for – amongst other things – the likes The Velvet Underground, Warhol’s Factory scene and modern revolutionary movements. Alison packed her effects and few to London to live with Jamie in his flat in Gypsy Hill. Together, their shared beliefs and philosophies lived in close proximity as their musical renaissance began to mature.

“The Kills is a lifestyle and partnership for us…[We] would be doing it with or without a record label. It’s our life. It’s what we do.” Jamie’s words are aired with an honest fathom – like a person’s unalterable belief in the celestial – during our ten minute conversation over a muffled phone line. He speaks with a broken middleclass eloquence, often pausing for thought and reiterating points of expression and beliefs with conviction.

“I’m currently sat in a pub working out how to get to Northampton,” Jamie coyly admits as I finally get through to him after thirty minutes of trying, “its not far is it?” I ingratiatingly search for train times and road directions on the internet as he begins to divulge his reasons behind his tardiness and recent events.

“I over slept and the tour bus left without me. We played at Koko in London [last night]. It’s a weird event when you play in London; you build it up so much and make yourself nervous…,” our conversation annoyingly begins to stutter before breaking down due to the wanton cry of a child. I’m asked to call back.

It’s hard to comprehend the likes of The Kills getting nervous before a gig. Their nonchalant and imperturbable rock and roll demure resonates from magazine interviews, aesthetically artistic photo shoots and aurally reconstructive sound that has reverberated since their conception; they are literal bellwethers of ‘Indie Cool’.

Recording with Liam Watson at Toe Rag Studios in March 2002, the pair – answering to the monikers of “VV” (Mosshart) and “Hotel” (Hince) – released their rough-edged, blues-rooted four track debut Black Rooster EP via Domino Records that summer. Lo-fi in music, aesthetic and style, little was known about the pair as they shunned interviews and the draw of music industry hype in favour of their hybrid beliefs and punk manifestos.

Much had been made of their raw, subversive live performances: the pair stood facing, gazing into each other’s eyes in an introverted manner, paying little attention to the crowds that had gathered before them as their name began to spread with humble underground utterances and acknowledgements.

The tension that they built-up on stage was of artistic value; to watch them play for the first time in 2003 at the Carling Leeds Festival was a bewildering moment for one’s self. Their unrefined stage demeanour, Parisian-kitsch attired and emancipated aural extractions had left their mark.

“You have to give it everything you’ve got; It’s life or death out there,” Jamie commented with an aggressive intonation as we began to talk openly, “I knew from a really early ages this is what I wanted to do.

“I got into obscure punk bands like Flux Of Pink Indians – bands that made a lot of noise and just band an attitude,” he continued to reminisce with a childlike zeal. “They made it easier to think that you didn’t have to be any good. You could just hit a guitar and shout about something that you believed in.”

This raw mind-set has bequeathed The Kills in their approach towards making music. Their first two studio album releases, Keep On Your Mean and No Wow, rattled with a boundless artistic integrity, devoid of any obvious influences. Their own artwork and photography graced the covers, exerts from the tapes that they had sent each other of nonsensical mumblings sat perplexingly amongst metronomically structured drumbeats, warbling vocals and guitars free from restraint. The Kills had something to say: they were devotees.

“[With Midnight Boom] we wanted to get to a point of making a record that never really had any form of overt influences upon it. We banned music from the studio and stopped listening to other people’s and just played our own stuff. What we were left with were just the influences that were in our blood – like The Velvet Underground and ESG – stuff that we cannot shake.”

Jamie begin to divulge about their obsession for an 18-minute documentary film called “Pizza Pizza Daddy-O”, an anthropological study set in inner-city LA, it examined the games played in the playground by young Black girls in 1968. In the film, groups of girls gather playfully singing, clapping and dancing; but the contents of the songs are of darkness, death and the brutal truths of growing up in such a time and heritage.

The children’s repetition of phrases for emphasis and chant-like call and response style were adopted and placed upon the new albums maelstrom of contorted effects and cathartic spats for incantational results of artistic integrity and dexterity.

“I don’t really pay much attention to the reviews and stuff; I’m always a bit baffled by that part of it,” Jamie admits before he continues humbly and with a quiet honesty, “but the new tracks have been going down well.”

We continue discussing the presses impact on a musician’s career and what his expectations were touring the new material for the first time: “We’ve often wondered why we go down so well in Europe, but it differs from country to country. It’s weird and completely different how some get it and some don’t.

“England is tough because of how the press works. The NME is so important because it’s a weekly and forever churning out new bands, making and finding scenes.” There is a lamenting tone to his voice as he persists with his retort, “Many [bands] get abused and left to one side. It’s [the NME] a flagship for new music and I don’t know why people seem to put so much trust in it, like it’s the be all and end all.”

His riposte is one of discontent, the sound of a wounded soul that would perpetually fight for his artistic expression; empowered and impassioned. “It makes the attitude to music so different. So influential. It’s like Heat Magazine for a different generation,” he finishes, trying to jest-away his cathartic release.

We continue to talk about powers that be and whom they affect most, the artist: “Most record companies seem to be happy with getting a band to write a record, record the record, promote the record, tour the record, and that’s the life of most bands; but there are so many things outside of that that I wish labels would help you with.”

Jamie begins to explain in endearing terms how good their relationship is with Domino Records and its “collective spirit” and “unity” amongst the bands: “They’re a purely independent, unique label, and we signed to them for that reason. Laurence [Bell, Domino’s founder] has a great taste in music and has become a really good friend.”

He begins to describe the label as a “modern Motown, one of those classics that just had all the best bands,” and how they have helped them achieve not only inside the music industry, but has also encouraged artistry further a field.

“We have just finished exhibiting a thousand Polariods and a video installation in the Baltic Gallery which is now moving to Brussels. Our life is consumed by the arts.”

We talk about the future and life outside of the band: “The Kills is a life style and partnership for us,” he explains unbegrudgingly, “we rarely get a day off.”

“We’ve got two or three songs for the new record but that could all change. I’ve toyed with the idea of working outside [The Kills]; I’d like to do something with Jason Pierce [Spiritualized] and Scott [Patterson of Sons and Daughters].”

Our time together draws to a close, but there is still one question that I really wanted to ask: The Smoking Ban. Discuss.

“It makes me so f**cking angry! It’s pointless! Why can’t we have just a room to smoke in like normal?” he explodes with sorrow, “They say it’s for the health of the workers, but that’s b******t! They have tried to dismantle all the Trade Unions – they couldn’t give a f**k about them!”

Jamie’s pugnacious retort exemplifies The Kills’ militant stance and infiltration into the music industry: reincarnating aloof evocations with avant-garde audacity and impunity. ‘Midnight Boom’ maintains this, transcending sincerity, angst, artistry and pretension with lustful effects. In the same vein as their all inspiring predecessors The Velvet Underground, this may not be the band for all adhere towards, but this is a band that represents a movement and declaration to those who wish to be inclined.

http://www.supersweet.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=665&Itemid=27

Supersweet.org - Single Review: The Presets – ‘This Boy’s In Love’

2008-04-30T12:55:00.002+01:00

Having ubiquitously toured their debut album Beams since its formidable release in late 2005, The Presets’ synergy of exultant future pagan house and electro-pop helped to liberate an unholy union of Clubland pilgrims with guile.

“This Boy’s In Love” is the second single to be taken from the Sydney-based duo’s forthcoming album Apocalypso, denoting another hallmark for the purveyors of the electronic genre. Transcendent blends of iridescent disco ball harmonies glisten cordially with radiant keys and emotive lyrics akin to the Eighties campness of Franky Goes To Hollywood and Pet Shop Boys facilitating a distilled hedonism of electro imagery.

http://www.supersweet.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=609&Itemid=27

Gigwise.com - Live Review: The Long Blondes - The Octagon, Sheffield - 10/04/08

2008-04-15T23:39:00.006+01:00

In the months running up to the release of their eagerly awaited second studio album ‘“Couples”’, The Long Blondes covertly aired new material under the pseudonym of The Dead Eyed Bitches at a select number of gigs around the country; word spread of a sound that was more emancipated from their colour by numbers glam-pop debut of ‘Someone To Drive You Home’ in favour for a more disco-driven renascence, lacking the life and lustre that had been acquainted with the band and endeared towards by many a fan.

Subsequently, their return to their adopted hometown of Sheffield is met accordingly: fans appear stagnant and mute with apprehension as they gather before a stage adorned with disco balls and prurient lighting; however, as the lustful illuminations flicker and fade, the crowd become enraptured with promise, hope and adoration.

“It’s so good to be back!” announces Kate Jackson, lead singer and modern day bellwether for the female indie faithful. As she approaches centre stage she is greeted by a sea of worshipping arms, each pouring their passion and glee into the receptacle that is the band’s imperturbable poise and kitsch charm: as a result, set opener ‘Once And Never Again’ cascades effortlessly from the speakers with sharp angular guitar hooks and stuttering drum beats, injecting life and convulsive call-response replies from the crowd upon the chorus.

In the past, The Long Blondes have been criticised for their rudimentary sound and style over content theatrics, however, tonight appears to be a retort to such denouncements. The pop giddiness and frivolities of the first album still shine through with a radiance that warms with a well worn expression of youthful zeal; but it’s the new tracks on aural display that takes them above and beyond what we have grown to expect.

The Long Blondes have moved away from the pop simplicity of their first album in favour of a more sultry sound and a sense of maturation. With Erol Alkan producing the new material for “Couples”, the album is set to different pace: the songs are less spontaneous, harder to judge in direction, and layered with celestial arrangements for a more inventive Eighties sense of pop sophistication. If anything, The Long Blondes appear at ease and centred even if the crowd appear mystified to their new vision, gazing dazedly with purblind eyes and secretly languishing for the old pop flippancy.

What the band must receive kudos for is their ability to replicate said album sound on a live scale. They appear unafraid to pick up new instruments and experiment for a more accomplished sound, adding dexterity to what was originally a rather myopic view of musical production. ‘Century’ may appear to be a cut and paste version of Blondie’s ‘Rapture’ but does take a life on of its own; ‘I’m Going To Hell’ rises and falls beautifully to the tune of Elton John driven piano histrionics; whereas ‘Round The Hairpin’ provides a more industrial, experimental sound akin to The Kills lamenting over affairs of the heart.

The associations with Blondie that have bequeathed The Long Blondes since they first stepped onto the scene are rational, even if a little tiring: their “new” Eighties-inspired sound almost appears ironic in orchestration and direction, along with Kate Jackson’s femme fatale demure and breathy falsetto that are parallel to that of Deborah Harry; but it is Jackson’s faultless inflections and performance, and the band’s willingness to augment – albeit facilitated – something unexpected and alluring that is quite admirable.

http://www.gigwise.com/reviews/live/42404/the-long-blondesoctagon-centre-sheffield

Supersweet.org - Single Review: The Rosie Taylor Project - ‘A Good Café On George Street'

2008-04-01T15:54:00.002+01:00

The aurally affecting release of sumptuously sun-warmed folk and captivating harmonies of contentment that is radiated from The Rosie Taylor Project’s second single, ‘A Good Café on George Street’, simply beguiles with sanguinity.

Taken from their forthcoming album ‘This City Draws Maps’ (released April 21st through Bad Sneakers Records), the Leeds five-piece’s quintessential Englishness, melodically melancholy depictions of escapism and reflective observational lines of Belle and Sebastian-inspired tweeness – “The coffee drinkers lined-up before the glass start to look like mannequins in a shop window without a thought of time” – do nothing but add to the endearing adoration for a band with an optimistic yet earnest soul.

Gigwise.com - Album Review: Neon Neon – ‘Stainless Style’

2008-03-25T15:18:00.005Z

The synthesis of diverse musical minds and heritages towards a common objective of aural exploration and unison has resulted in collaborations bringing about many anomalous objectives and conclusions.

With this in mind, Neon Neon’s ‘Stainless Style’ is of no exception: fused by thought and inspiration, Los Angeles-based musician and beat-technician Boom Bip’ (Brian Hollon) alliance with Gruff Rhys, solo artist and front man of the Welsh psych-poppers Super Furry Animals, has given birth to a conceptually themed album around the life and times of the world’s fist playboy engineer, John DeLorean.

The outcome is a highly imaginative celebration of euphoric simple pop, detailing the rise and fall of the protagonist’s eponymous empire. A rara avis for his time, DeLorean was made infamous for the production of the Pontiac GTO muscle car, the DeLorean DMC-12 sports car – made illustrious by the Back to the Future trilogy – and his high profile arrest on drug trafficking charges after losing his fortune.

‘Stainless Style’ oozes with the nostalgic tendencies that the Eighties were ultimately made famous for: romanticism, capitalism and the emergence of electronica. Opener ‘Neon Theme’ cascades sonically to the tune of esoteric 8-bit electronic waves and whirls before giving way to ‘Dream Cars’ – a veritable array of lustful dusty beats backed with Rhys’ Annie Lennox-esque wistful vocals upon the chorus, “Dream girls in cool cars / Cool girls in dream cars.”

Apart from its obvious deviations and resulting impairments (‘Trick For Treat’ and ‘Sweat Shop’ employ poor trip-hop narratives that are nothing short of an experimental faux pas), which blur its electronic kaleidoscope of auditory chic, they are worth enduring to savour the likes of ‘Raquel’, ‘I Lust U’ and ‘Belfast’ for their sumptuous blend of downbeat Human League-style art-pop playfulness, and upbeat Kraftwerk industrial structuralism.

The album on a whole is as reflective as it is indulgent in its influences, crooning with the authenticity that transcends the decades from its origin. Boom Bip’ structured analogue synths and palpating beats quiver at hands of Rhys’ breezy vocals with heavenly effect, swooping effortlessly together under a halo of harmonies.

For Rhys, Neon Neon has emancipated his talents, showing strength in his creativity and adaptability much to the same effect as Damon Albarn’s change of direction with the Gorillaz demonstrated, however, ‘Stainless Style’ itself peaks and falters musically as did DeLorean’s career; a superbly crafted conceptual think-tank, yet, in retrospect, it is not without its foibles.

http://www.gigwise.com/contents.asp?contentid=41782

Gigwise.com - Album Review: Operator Please – ‘Yes Yes Vindictive’

2008-03-16T22:57:00.003Z

Their entrance to centre stage via the playground may appear to be the handy work of a media hungry PR agency looking for kitsch value, however, Operator Please’ rise to fame after winning a battle of the bands competition and signing a major record deal as a result is the – albeit far-fetched – truth behind their naissance.

Operator Please’ beguiling success may appear anecdotal and contrived, but their youthful precociousness from thereon not only won them the adoration of the Australian public for reinvigorating its indie mainstream with their zealous pop appeal and high-octane shows, but also worldwide veneration. (‘Get What You Want’ was declared the Hottest Record In The World by Zane Lowe and broadcast within 24 hours of it being mastered.)

Accordingly, their debut album ‘Yes Yes Vindictive’ has been met with animated anticipation by the foregoing public. Its resulting 12 tracks of riotous schoolyard punk-pop glisten with a hubristic and exultant youthful nature that takes pride in elementally verging indie mainstream.

‘Yes Yes Vindictive’, however, is to be taken at face value if to be seen as having any serious intentions, and is as much a pop album as a teenager is obstinate: ‘Just A Song About Ping Pong’ and ‘Cringe’ bounce inoffensively with twee hocks shrink-wrapped in a commercial seal of approval, whereas ‘Two For My Second’ and ‘6/8’ waltz with the innocent charms and intentions of McFly at a school disco.

‘Zero Zero’, ‘Get What You Want’, and ‘Ghost’ do show a prodigious divergence and maturation away from the generic polished pop that one will expect, but the exhilaration and brashness of their live performances has been killed in the album’s production in exchange for something that will sell a pretty penny to a pop idolising public.

http://www.gigwise.com/contents.asp?contentid=41781

Gigwise.com - Singles Reviews

2008-03-11T14:53:00.006Z

Late Of The Pier – ‘The Bears Are Coming’

Late Of The Pier have been the subject matter of many underground humble mumblings as of the last year; the fourteen-track bedroom DIY antics of ‘Zarcorp Demo’ released for free through their MySpace page led to those in search of something less contrived than – but as in tune with – the 2007 music media event that was new-rave, talking to a different beat.

‘The Bears Are Coming’, Late Of The Pier’s third single release, will continue to provoke low level utterances across electro-lusting dance floors. Its elemental yet obstreperous drumming bolsters a whirl of blusterous electronic irregularities and vociferous vocals akin to the niche electro-art pomposity akin to the likes of The Human League. Its pulse is syncopated, distracted, and as baffling a as metronome set to random; however, the impulses that it sparks with its cacophony of throbbing electronic rudiments simply penetrate and inherit the senses.

http://www.gigwise.com/contents.asp?contentid=41471

Sam Isaac – ‘Fire Fire’

2008 is set with auspicious endeavours for the young British troubadour Sam Isaac after an acclaimed performance at the BBC Electric Proms in October helped nurture both his talents and popularity amongst the mainstream public as part of ‘BBC Introducing…’. Now, with a place on this year’s Radio 1’s “Ones to Watch” list – a subliminal tool used on the commercially-compliant, bandwagon-jumping public as a fast track to household name fame – Isaac’s second single ‘Fire Fire’ falls, rather unsurprisingly, upon expectant ears.

Credit where credit is due, Isaac has orchestrated an engaging, consuming and consummated pop gem; ‘Fire Fire’ is a concise and charming tune that aurally conscribes the part of the brain that endears towards simplicity and childlike playfulness. With its clear and coherent structure of fluent and upbeat builds and breaks, predictably middle-of-the-road heartfelt verses of everyman vocal inflections and lyrical empathy, and beautifully pounding jingle-jangle choruses, popularised crowds will be left captivated, enraptured and bouncing to a new-wave of Snow Patrol-inspired, inoffensive indie rock.

Green Man Says Go – ‘Las Vegas’/‘Dancefloor’

The new-wave of indie/electro revival that has besieged niche dance floors until the early mornings as a result of the ecstasy-inspired Skins degenerates lusting for a new high has resulted in a precarious number of bands wanting to replicate the fame and fortunes already sought by the likes of the Klaxons and Foals.

Sheffield’s Green Man Says Go’s double A-side debut single ‘Las Vegas’/‘Dancefloor’, exudes with the impotency that would be expected from a band that have influenced by the recent successes and sounds of the likes of the forward-thinking insurgency of Hot Chip, Clor and The Rapture. What they have ascertained and ensured are two tracks that are insidiously infectious in beat and simplicity; screaming synths and rolling disco drums add emphasis to their bombastic and disjointed sound. However, the lack of distinction between the two tracks and their ability to stand strong amongst a genre and scene that will begin to fade with value for a new fad will prove an vain venture for the trio.

Supersweet.org - Album Review: The Kills – ‘Midnight Boom’

2008-03-10T11:59:00.004Z

For any artists there are many overwhelming expectations that come with the release of a third album: proponents and critics alike still want a sense of the familiarity to which they initially became endeared towards, provoking the love and lust that was acquainted with their debut and successor; but it is the importance of pushing the boundaries of said sound with an essence of interminable creativity and experimentation that everyone lays in wait to be inspired with.

Returning with ‘Midnight Boom’, The Kills have exceeded all expectations: skipping boundaries with avant-garde audacity and impunity, the album sees the boy/girl duo of Jamie Hince (Hotel) and Alison Mosshart (VV) dispense of all influences in order to seek musical clarity and rectitude. The result: an effrontery effort of sagacious progression.

‘Midnight Boom’ maintains the elements that created ‘Keep On Your Mean Side’ and ‘No Wow’, reincarnating their aloof evocations and grungy lo-fi blues call response solitudes with brooding electronic flourishes, lyrical incantations, and spatters of chemically altered and influenced guitar sounds emancipated from musical structuralism.

‘Midnight Boom’, on one hand, is an unrestrained maelstrom of contorted effects and staccato guitars chased by cathartic monosyllabic vocal spats. Opener “U.R.A. Fever” immediately injects life into the album with its simple industrial tones akin to the Nine Inch Nails, whereas “Cheap And Cheerful” splutters gracelessly into a dance infiltrated militant romp. However raucous and raw The Kills can and have been, it is the exquisite production values and polished clarity of tracks that leave you aurally hooked: the nostalgic lament of “What New York Used To Be” – a wistful amalgamation of eighties electro, hybrid trip-hop and forlorn lyrics – and the enchanting “Last Day Of Magic” that leaves ‘Midnight Boom’ somewhat bespoke.

What The Kills have offered us is an album of artistic integrity and dexterity: from the dusty ballad of “Goodnight Bad Morning” to the post-punk trip of “Alphabet Pony”, ‘Midnight Boom’ transcends sincerity, angst, artistry and pretension with lustful effects. In the same vein as their all inspiring predecessors The Velvet Underground, this may not be the band for all adhere towards, but this is an album and a band that represents a movement and declaration of boundless and self-assured experimental foresight with polarising results.

http://www.supersweet.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=599&Itemid=27

Supersweet.org - Album Review: Dandi Wind – 'Sacrificial'

2008-03-05T00:36:00.004Z

Modern music has perpetually changed throughout the decades. Its association with class rebellion, iconoclastic movements and fashion has been well documented and ensued by generations of youthful proponents and its willing purveyors; the times will forever be changing, and its soundtrack will forever develop in order to relate to its market and its new frontiers. As a result of the epoch that we find ourselves in, Dandi Wind’s lustful and dramatic ‘Sacrificial’ is an intentionally pioneering move towards a new-wave of digitally enhanced musical breeding.

Hailing from the sleepy surroundings of Vancouver, Canada, Dandi Wind’s inception began in 2003 at the creative hands of sculptor Dandilion Wind Opaine (vocals) and musician Szam Findlay. Before their unity as Dandi Wind, Opaine was working on individual sculptures that represented the musical movements that affected legions of past cohorts, whereas Findlay intended to inspire future generations with a musical composition that he had been working on for the last five years: the unavailing of their work fell upon deaf ears and purblind eyes.

Their move from Vancouver to Montreal was nothing short of inspiring for the duo and an already fervent music scene enraptured by the likes of Arcade Fire, Wolf Parade and The Unicorns. Tireless touring ensued as the pair – along with the newly recruited Evan Pierce on drums – enchanted major cities across Europe (most notably 20 odd shows with the The Horrors), the US, Canada and Mexico.

‘Sacrificial’ – along with previous releases and somewhat legendary live shows – has the mark of the future. Chemically enhanced and digitally developed, the tracks themselves are hypnotic and aurally penetrating: “Searching Flesh”, “Adolescent” (both of which have been remixed and mashed by various producers and DJs with mind-bending effects and zeal) and “Drawing Straws” pulsate with the youthful angst of those who conspire towards a DIY think-tank of musical tribalism.

What is lost from the album is the extent to which the Dandi Wind are not only burgeoning beat producers, but also inimitable visual artists; live shows and videos are drenched in the semiotics akin to the likes of David Bowie, Kate Bush and Lora Logic that once engrossed the eighties. Whereas the likes of Peaches’ electro-clash antics have been produced with the intention of mass media publicity, you can’t help but feel that Dandi Wind are the digital real deal.

http://www.supersweet.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=594&Itemid=27

Gigwise.com - Live Review: Sons & Daughters – Leadmill, Sheffield – 7/2/08

2008-02-12T17:15:00.001Z

It comes as no surprise that Sons & Daughters are still chasing the acclaim that they duly deserve as bastions of rock and roll’s fidelity, especially in an age when applying prefixes such as “new-” to any genre is as receptive as the next pliable and celebrity endorsed Top Shop range that follows suit.

As the Scottish quartet front the small stage there is already a sense of intimacy that engulfs the air; the crowd may be as meagre as the band’s platform, but their understanding and overwhelming connection with the defenders of a seemingly lost foundation and art is felt.

Sons & Daughters’ live sound on the one hand is raw and emancipated: Adele Bethel’s vocal inflections and harmonious gesticulations with the blues inspired idiosyncrasies of guitarist Scott Paterson makes for an unfettered touch; however, it is the austere of an unrelenting and pulsating rhythm section that rounds off their performance with backbone.

A tumultuous performance is instilled upon the night with the band showcasing picks from their albums ‘Love The Cup’, ‘The Repulsion Box’ and new release ‘This Gift’. Each track floats with its own dark volition: “Hunt” and “Broken Bones” build and break with the honesty of a drunken couple’s argument to the sound of The Kills and 22-20s wigging-out, whereas “Medicine” and “Dance Me In” crackle with a vintage pop dexterity. But its Scott Paterson’s scuffling guitar, and haunting vocals as an ode, upon “Johnny Cash” that rumbles at a pace of Iggy Pop and the Stooges rampaging through heroin-impoverished Glasgow looking for a fix that dilates the pupils of those transfixed.

With open ears, Sons and Daughters are well orchestrated and underrated; but with open eyes Adele Bethel’s endearing Scottish charm soon wears to a desperate drama schoolgirl’s need for centre stage, whereas conversely bass player Ailidh Lennon appeared stricken with rigor mortis. If only we lived in a time when the music sufficed.

http://www.gigwise.com/contents.asp?contentid=40711

Gigwise.com - Singles Reviews

2008-02-12T16:51:00.000Z

The Teenagers – ‘Love No’

Pulsating with sardonic adolescent lust, The Teenagers’ ‘Love No’ oozes with the pretension that would be expected from a trio of Parisians that hopped on the Eurostar for Capital Scene City, England.

It comes as no surprise that the band were conceived from a fake MySpace page for a fictional band; but the intrigue sold, the satire continues and the sinlges become evermore sarcastic. ‘Love No’ is about fulfilling as juvenile delinquents “sincerest” apologies that silently mocks with insolence. A stripped-down two chord Pet Shop Boys lo-fi thrash backed by Serge Gainsbourg inspired lyrics of broken youth poetry leaves an essence that is more velvet bed sheet porn than Velvet Underground longevity.

The Others – ‘Probate’

The Others’ rise to fame through association in 2004 was nothing short of a PR wet dream. At the time, London was burning with underground “talent” nestled within the wings of The Libertines’ eponymous scene of fad receptive youth. Lead singer Dominic Masters became somewhat of a spokesperson for urchin youth culture, publicising drug abuse, socialism, and lethargy, playing the role of a pied piper to the drones that wished to follow their antiestablishment “Gorilla Gigs”.

“Probate” continues to mark The Others’ emancipation from the central train of thought with the same obstreperous arrogance that they first unleashed on the class system. The result is a furiously paranoid nine minute rant of laboured punk proclaiming how “The future’s not bright, you see/You won’t get no fucking sympathy”. Masters is a man who will continue to suffer for his art, but now, more than ever, he sounds as if he’s suffering from the realisation of his own meaningless degenerate bleatings.

Dave Cloud & The Gospel Of Power – ‘You Don’t Need Sex’

Having roamed the Nashville scene for over 25 years with a drunken psychedelic garage poetry akin to the likes of Captain Beefheart and the age of love, the iconoclastic Cloud returns with “You Don’t Need Sex”, the first single to be taken from his forthcoming album ‘Pleasure Before Business’.

The scuzzy sixties garage deconstruction of MC5-esque heavy riffs, beats and two-tone vocal tracking creates a sense of fuelled sobriety and intoxication circa the hostilities of Iggy Pop, Tom Waits and Echo and the Bunnymen. In all, “You Don’t…” creates an anachronistic revelation of stalwart eccentricity with an unabashed lust for experimentation and integrity.

Hard-Fi – ‘I Shall Overcome’

It’s impossible to even think that Hard-Fi’s first single of 2008 will not become a mainstay of the public domain after past efforts: whether that is aurally facilitating lager adverts selling conformity to a nation with an ever present habitual drinking problem, or penning a song to the tune of said issue to be played on every generic indie and drive-time play list going.

The fact is, Hard-Fi have forged a career steeped in irony and lacking in moral fibre; their ham-fisted attempts at Clash articulacy and reinvention of sound somehow sold millions in the form of their debut album ‘Stars of CCTV’. They have been happy to sell out from the start, and “I Shall Overcome” shows no change in behaviour for the self-titled demigods of suburban didactics.

Perpetually observing social disarray and fiscal worries for influences in no longer an issue for the ever snarling Richard Archer – he has money and a house with security now – so a lacklustre attempt at one’s own personal feelings have been long overdue and ultimately arrives with the excitement of a new family saloon: economic but functionally disappointing.

The Boggs – ‘Arm In Arm’

As one of the independent bands that helped create the “New New York” scene of 2001 along with the likes of The Rapture, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Interpol, The Boggs’ “Arm In Arm” shows no willingness to repent towards traditions and the norn.

Taken from their forth coming album ‘Forts’, Jason Friedman’ raw recording techniques and artsy post-punk folk reverences endears towards the ear. A simple acoustic blues beat-down cascades into a phenomenal new-wave of throbbing Adam and The Ants drumming and scaled down Arcade Fire inspired instrumental fills leaving a lyrical lunar howl to drool over.

Team Waterpolo – ‘Letting Go’

Heralding from the culturally absorbing abyss that is Preston, Team Waterpolo have managed to ascend out of the city’s chasm with the aid some Avalanches-influenced pop hooks and samples with their debut single, ‘Letting Go’.

Combining the bright harmonies and art-pop structure of Franz Ferdinand with the esoteric sample simplicity of Kraftwerk results in something at first playful but lacking in substance; much like receiving the aural equivalent of a Sega Master System as a forthcoming Christmas present: the nostalgia will soon wear to become novelty.

Gigwise.com - Live Review: Blood Red Shoes – The Leadmill, Sheffield – 31/01/08

2008-02-04T23:25:00.000Z

Approaching the stage with an air of grace and innocence, Brighton boy-girl duo Blood Red Shoes’ first impressions of being the next faces of innocuous pop-culture would be a pretty farfetched assumption to make.

Their surreptitious advance reveals a covert for a brash aural assault upon a sell-out crowd. Opener “It’s Getting Boring By The Sea” splits through the speakers with a ferocity akin to Death From Above’s unbridled passion for rhythm and turning that which is a solid structure into something frangible.

The tumultuous attack of two-tone brazen guitar and meticulous drumming is unrelenting and at times uninspiring. The allure is there: the reinvention and inspiration of early 90’s grunge will be endeared by many; however, as in the case of it’s sort lived predecessors, longevity is an issue.

The set feels tired and worn. Only so much can be done with the tumultuous austerity of their cacophonic sound of Young Knives-esque art-punk riffery and shrill vocal lashings, renouncing unknown objects of hate. However, when the melee of guitar-drums-vocal amalgamates, the result is quite congruent: “You Bring Me Down” and the set concluding “ADHD” perforate with perfection to the tune of The Kills romping with the Yeah Yeah Yeahs – as opposed to lesser-inspiring Subways-esque filled set.

http://www.gigwise.com/contents.asp?contentid=40536

Supersweet.org - Single Review: Los Campesinos! – ‘Death To Los Campesinos!’

2008-02-04T18:10:00.000Z

For many an aspiring band, 2006/7 made the MySpace.com dreams of popularity a reality. One of said bands to thrive from the new wave of Web 2.0 DIY independency is Cardiff-based septet Los Campesinos! with this, their third single of euphoria frenzied pop-lucidity, ‘Death To Los Campesinos!’

For the collective, producing such slices of disco hall, glitter ball pop comes with a childlike exuberance of jingles, jangles, chimes and charm. However, the innocence of its pop shimmer is given a shakedown of maturity with its biting lyrical content (“Broken-down like a war economy/Father Führer don’t be mad at me”) at a breakneck pace of vocal ping-pong and rousing harmonies. Result: a sugar coated pill that you want to take time and time again.

Supersweet.org - Album Review: Dawn Landes - 'Fireproof'

2008-02-03T12:01:00.000Z

Fireproof has kindled two very bewitching elements of Dawn Landes’s heritage and upbringing, evoking another wave of nostalgic folk resistance that has broken the niche boundaries of her new adopted home.

Born in Louisville, Dawn’s traditional folk roots may have been deracinated and laid amidst the New York’s anti-thesis of an ‘anti-folk’ scene, but they have remained pertinacious yet absorbing to their surrounding influences.

This, the songstress’ second full-length album, cascades with the virgin qualities of astute grassroots folk clarity; yet it has been washed over with a beguiling symposium of melodious indie-pop ambiguities.

As a body of work, Fireproof has many captivating and endearing qualities: Landes’ ability to lyrically acquaint one’s self with the listener through her angelically delicate vocal deliverance of personal reflections and emotions are undoubted a drawing influence; however, it is the overall dexterity and artistic treatment of every song that leaves the album thoroughly arresting.

Having honed her skills as a recording engineer by day having worked with the likes of Ryan Adams and Philip Glass, Landes has managed to transcend these aurally judicious talents into the production of her own self-penned work. With this, Fireproof has a personal quality that many a musician should aspire to achieve with their work: the sense of what has finally been produced still has the original essence that which it was born with, and left untouched by external studio hands.

The tracks have a playful facet of serenity that build and break with the lyricism of a spirit that is free, philosophical and earnest within its expression: “Bodyguard”, “Tired Of This Life” and “Goodnight Lover” typify Landes’ ability to acquaint and captivate the listener with personal notations of empathy arousing sentiment, making Fireproof alight with a talent akin to the likes of Cat Power and Regina Spektor.

http://www.supersweet.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=565&Itemid=27&PHPSESSID=620d715fd951dc3dbdf50f35e9015287