DEFTONES   Deftones   (Maverick)
 

Despite being together for 15 years this eponymous effort is only the Deftones fourth album, and after ‘Adrenaline’ and ‘White Pony’ they have a lot to live up to.  But the Deftones have the ability to turn out driving, chugging rock with intelligence, creativity and melody, without making compromises; big, chunky riffs with downtuned buzz-saw guitars so beloved of nu-metal, atmospheric sampling and effects from Frank Delgado, and a vocalist in the shape of Chino Moreno who may not be among the greats, but can wring plenty of passion and emotion from his cryptic lyrics

An album opener should grab you by the balls and reel you in, but while Hexagram is musically a great pounding song, Moreno’s ear-piercing screaming and over-use of the chorus of ‘worship, play, play’ made me want to reach for fast forward.  It smacks of being a filler and if it doesn’t see the band getting far off the ground, much of the rest of the album sees them hurtling beyond the realms of our solar system.  Needles and Pins, despite its repetitive two note main riff is well-crafted and classy, but Chino, less of that screeching pleeease (When Girls Telephone Boys is needlessly ruined by distorted screamed vocals).  First single Minerva is powerful and moving with a beauty all of its own, some great harmonies, and although it’s quintessential Deftones, it still manages to be radio-friendly enough to be a deserved hit.  Other highlights include Good Morning Beautiful (almost Brit-poppy in the verses with staccato-guitared chorus), the fantastic Battle-axe with a guitar intro reminiscent of Metallica’s One and some Sabbath-style doomy riffing, and the mellower Deathblow.  Also pretty good is Bloody Cape which veers between catchy pop and stun gun guitars, ending with the Moreno scream. 

There are havens of peace amongst the metal maelstrom though; the techno-pop of Lucky You (from The Matrix Reloaded soundtrack) with a dreamy-sounding Moreno at his most restrained and soulful, and electronic effects that sound like they’ve been sampled from Star Trek phasers; and the haunting piano ballad Anniversary of an Uninteresting Event.  Moana, like a faster Minerva, rounds off a fine album of which the band can be proud.  Only time will tell if this opus reaches the iconic status of ‘White Pony’, but at the time of writing it was only held off the US number one spot by the unaccountably popular Staind.  Enhanced CD features include video footage from inside the studio, a day in the life of each band member, and loads of photos.

Review by Graham S
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Young Simon Green, Brighton master mixer and chilled trip hop alchemist, releases his second album proper with a cheeky chimpy title , Dial M for Monkey, continuing his animal interest (no…not another Keith Lard). After gracing us with numerous gaggin’-for-an-advert soundbites in the simian tribute Animal Magic, you could expect this album to be more of the same. Well, it is and it isn’t. We do have a couple of tracks that are ripe for telecommunication advertisements, but it's less geared up for that angle, a lot more….well...jazzy lo-key.

Tracks like ‘Noctuary’ and ‘Flutter’ are familiar Bonobo delights and do qualify for the Moby award for soon to be heard on a home improvement TV programme….schmoooth and easily swallowed. And yes, there are enigmatic moments with ‘Wayward Bob’, on a par with Bent’s Thick Ear for lush use of organs, and ‘Pick Up’ with its pan pipes and Lalo Schifrin bastard offspring. But we do enter jazz club with ‘D Song’, ‘Change Down’ and ‘Light Pattern’ …they are jazz rump grunt, and disappointing fare for this reviewer. As if to remedy this, a short parp of ‘Something for Windy’ soothes you back to the sofa you know Mr Green belongs, but the album experience is lessened for it.

Difficult to dislike, but not an Animal Magic Redux, Dial M for Monkey has its highs and lows but you know its foundations are solid. Taking one of the albums track titles, ‘Nothing Owed’, you have to take it like this….a solid release so why complain ?

Review by Adam M
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Plum in the middle of the States and birthplace of both Gerald Ford and Malcolm X, Omaha, Nebraska might not be the first place you'd look for a successor to Seattle as the heart of US indie music.  But, with local label Saddle Creek's burgeoning reputation, it stakes a pretty good claim, borne out by this sampler album celebrating their half century of releases.  With one old and one new release by each of 10 bands signed to the label there's every incentive for both the initiated and curious newcomer to take a look. The feeling of community that infects the roster, with musicians helping each other out on recordings, is reinforced by the two CDs' inclusion of some 45 mini home movies that feature moments ranging from concert appearances to frankly feeble attempts to do YMCA at a street party.  

The jewel in their crown is of course the prodigy Conor Oberst, whose two bands - Bright Eyes and Desaparacidos - both feature.  Bright Eyes are the densely lyrical bedroom folk-pop band whose Lifted album so impressed critics last year and, despite taking the generous decision not to raid that for this compilation, the two songs bear up mightily well.  Believe me, there's an awful lot of good stuff in that back catalogue.  Desaparecidos on the other hand signal what "emo" might have been like had Dinosaur Jr's Cure-influenced Bug rather than Nevermind been its touchstone.  Man and Wife, The Latter, taken from last year's brilliant Read Music, Speak Spanish shows off the lyrical maturity that sets Conor Oberst apart.  He shows a real empathy, rather than juvenile contempt, for the desire to conform to the pressures of society and the resulting middle class pain.  Poppin' off at the F is more standard angry young man fare, played over the top of a 50's advertising piece for the H-Bomb, but still the welcome absence of constipated whining and straining makes it sound fresh.  Thankfully, however, the inspiration doesn't stop at just one man.  I eulogised Californian exiles Rilo Kiley's The Execution of All Things at the last update, and frankly if you're going to buy one album this summer, let alone one Saddle Creek album, make it that one.  But With Arms Outstretched here still glitters as the song the Polyphonic Spree should've made and the new track Jenny, you're barely alive, brings out their Breeders-like way with a hard-edged tune.   

So much for those I knew were any good, but what about the rest?  Well from the first CD, I can take or leave The Faint's Depeche Mode electronic straining and Cursive's art-punk stylings (calling a clattering avant-garde clatterfest Nonsense might be asking for it were "Shite" not a more appropriate title).  Now it's Overhead are more palatable with the angsty pop of Wonderful Scar and the Calexico like 80's rock ramble of Dark Cycle.  And Son, Ambulance, the minging pun of their name notwithstanding, show a reasonable line in plaintive pop and drunken singalongs. The second CD is more consistent.  Azure Ray's ethereal string-backed yearning hits a classy note and is well worth checking out.  The rather incongruously monikered Sorry about Dresden offer a the very decent shuffling English-sounding indie-pop of Sick and Sour and the bitter college rock styled People have Parties.  Mayday offer a return to the drunken troubadour folk that is the label's trademark even, on Pond Love, answering Kermit's seminal lament It ain't easy being green.  Only The Good Life (the label really ought to get someone in who knows how to name bands - I know Tom and Barbara Goode probably don't figure very highly in US cultural references, but still....) don't quite hit the spot, though they are a long way from being ropey, the electronic swirling married to Lou Reed vocals of Aftercrash at least making for a change. 

All in all, far more decent songs than you have any right to expect across a double CD sampler from a single label, which feels more like a collective when put together in this way.  I'm not sure that the major labels will be soon signing up anything Nebraskan that moves, but there's plenty of talent here to keep Omaha, and us, going for a long while yet.

Review by Matt H
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"Tonight Matthew, I shall be Dr Dre". It was with these words that I began my ill-conceived attempt to get through the auditions for Stars In Their Eyes. I thought I made a reasonable attempt but I'd put my lack of success as much down to my decision to 'black up' for the roll as my inexperience of a hard life in the ghetto that eluded me as a white, middle class boy from Dulwich. Northern State, a trio of white girls from Long Island, fare rather better.

They're educated girls, which makes it hard for them to rap about the usual references to tough times on the streets, but rather than being embarrassed about this they happily refer to their background as smart girls bored with the vacuous materialism that surrounds them in Long Island. They're also happy to make references to Sylvia Plath and use lines like "Edmund Hilary couldn't climb this" and their diction is perfect (their mothers would be very proud that you can hear all the words). It is perhaps inevitable that despite hailing as influences bands like De La Soul and Public (who both have Long Island roots) the act that they most resemble is The Beastie Boys.

Ultimately there isn't much for those of us who aren't jaded teens to relate to and there's nothing here to put a rocket up anyone's backside apart from the line "Don't blame me cos I voted for Gore" (which qualifies as treason in today's America). If all the above doesn't put you off you will probably find this 8 track mini album an enjoyable and, at times, quite amusing collection of tight rapping.

Review by Alex M
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Time to dig out your mascara, fishnets, and peephole bras; I already have.  Despite slagging off The Sex Pistols for reforming in ’96, Siouxsie and The Banshees did likewise, regrouping  after a seven year hiatus for last year’s brief Seven Year Itch Tour.  They played two packed-to-the-rafters nights at the Shepherds Bush Empire and this release is culled from those shows (reviewed elsewhere on this site).  I remembered it as a great gig with childhood heroes I hadn’t seen since the 70s, so I was keen to whack this disc in the stereo. 

Opening instrumental Pure sets the mood nicely with spiky guitar from Knox Chandler joined by Severin’s bass line, Budgie’s rolling drums and some swooping vocals from Siouxsie.  Then into the pounding Jigsaw Feeling, always one of my fave Banshees tracks, so I was shocked when Siouxsie started singing.  Using a lower register than in days of old, and stripped of the live setting, the voice is more exposed, revealing some off key moments and an occasional lack of power (there was talk at the time of certain songs being dropped as Siouxsie had trouble hitting the notes).  Fortunately things pick up for the minimalist Metal Postcard while the moody Red Light (recorded on a different night) sees her in much better voice.  A real treat is a top notch rendering of Icon from the second album, and a breathtaking Voodoo Dolly which gets faster and faster, with screeching guitar, Siouxsie repeating ‘Listen, listen, listen to your fear’, and Budgie drumming like a madman.  Encore songs include a stomping Monitor and a funky Peek-a-boo when the Banshees were joined by support act eX-Girl decked out in frog costumes (the CD booklet credits them as the Frog Chorus).

Although the disc is well-filled, a surprising choice of tracks sees Trust In Me, Lands End and I Could Be Again included, while Christine, Happy House, Israel and Spellbound are all unaccountably absent.  Not quite the brilliant gig I thought I remembered, and probably a disc for hardcore fans only, but it’s still nice to have this record of one of punk’s seminal bands making a welcome return to the nation’s stages.

Review by Graham S
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Luss, a nine-track mini-album, is the debut recording from Stroud’s Le Neon. On first listen I didn’t think much of it (the pretentious press release didn’t help!). However I give everything a second go and by the third listen had completely changed my mind about it!

The opener “Dying” sounds like me like an indie version of Cabaret Voltaire’s “Nag Nag Nag” and the original impression of just a noise racket had given way to that this was an excellent track, drenched in aggressive guitar and having some great melodic undertones. “I Can’t Go On” and “The Sender” are in the same vein before “Take It All” and “Don’t Worry” takes the boundaries further just in case you were wondering if Le Neon were a one trick pony.  Lead singer Daniel Clare becomes all Black Francis-ish on “So Sorry”, the best track on the album and you feel he really means it. Still I couldn’t get used to “Drone” which just does that or is the irony lost on me?

Luss is a grower and is another great release from Fierce Panda (check out (X) is Greater Than (Y) reviewed last time round).  Due for release on June 9^th  and the band is touring to promote it. More can be found at http://www.leneon.com.

Review by Tom B
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If James Tiberius Kirk is right and space is the final frontier, then, like the last frontier we conquered, the music of our future frontier will be country – space country.  And who better to play it than Washington DC’s Canyon?   They’ve got this country-ish, intricate feel married to an experimental, modern, space-rock sound - a bit like the Beachwood Sparks jamming with Galaxie 500.   Melody’s uppermost in their minds, as on the lovely Magnetic Moon with its trilling piano rills or the straightforwardly poppy (and current single) Ten Good Eyes.  Both songs have a huge, swelling, anthemic chorus, reminiscent of Embrace at their finest.  Or try Radio Driver that starts in acoustic guitar before being swallowed by the mother of all organ sounds and an electric guitar wailing like a mourner at a funeral.     

Songs build up and fade away: three of the ten songs here are six minutes long while only three don’t last three minutes.  The strength of Canyon is in confounding assumption.  They use technology to make the familiar unfamiliar.  Forget any suggestions of pomp rock from uneducated quarters.  Intense doesn’t mean indulgent and multilayered shouldn’t mean ‘jazzy’.   True, Mansion On The Moon launches into a Pink Floyd style FX show but the result is psychedelic rather than ponderous.  The Long Weekend has a Neil Young lonesome thread running through it, right down to the harmonica, but it’s overwritten with twisted guitars and rolls into the almost instrumental Head Above with its church organ and percussion for unorthodox effect.   The overall effect is strangely intimate and personal for songs that are big as continents.   Sometimes you need a sound to become immersed in.  Sometimes you need Canyon.  They’re grand….

Reviewed by Ged M
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Brighton based, but originally from Cumbria and Lancashire, British Sea Power have been hard at it over the past year or two. They have released a couple of singles, built up a reputation touring all over the place (including the Isle Of Skye) but have not rushed into making an album. Until now and it is well, well worth the wait if you like epic, searing music.

The album opens with the short Laibach style piece ”Men Together Today” (and I read that they too dress in military uniforms – oh er!). New double A-Side “Apologies To Insect Life” follows and sets the tone for the rest of the album.

“Something Wicked” stabilises the frantic opening before new recordings of old material follow including debut single “Fear of Drowning”, “Remember Me” and a previous b-side “The Lonely”  - all bloody marvellous too. The other double A-Side “Carrion” is the more likely candidate to give British Sea Power their debut chart entry being more accessible to the masses with is catchy cords and vocals. The only down point is the 13+ minutes epic “Lately” which although very good just lingers on too much for it’s own good. Another re-recording “A Wooden Horse” closes the album in a subtle, melancholy way.

For me though, the stand out track has to be “Remember Me”. I have not heard this track previously even though it was released as a single in late 2001. It is truly glorious reaching the heights of the old Echo and the Bunnymen anthems – superb. Talking of the Bunnymen there are also traces of other eighties bands. Like contemporaries Interpol, they are influenced by Joy Division and there is more of a hint of Gang Of Four – but that is not a bad thing in my book.

It takes a lot to get me excited these days but bands like British Sea Power (and the Futureheads) are re-establishing my faith in good old fashioned heart tugging indie-rock. Unlike the piers in their adopted hometown I cannot see this lot tumbling down in ruins.

The album is due to be released on 2^nd June 2003 – make sure you get it. More information (and mp3’s of previous singles) can be found at the official web site http://www.britishseapower.co.uk/

Review by Tom B
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There’s very little middle ground in people’s opinions of Matthews’ vocal style. The former Catatonia front is either a sexy, smoky chanteuse with unique ability or just one vowel-strangling step away from the sound of a cat in a noose. Personally, I was never quite sure which camp I was in but I always had a soft spot all the same.

After the messy demise of her former charges in 2001, Cerys is back and she’s swapped South Wales for the Deep South with an album imbued with the spirit of her new home in Nashville. It’s not strictly country but the elements are all there; largely acoustic strum, mandolins and lap steel in places and a far folkier edge than we’re used to.

Whilst it’d be nice to think that the album’s opener Chardonnay was a lovelorn paean to her favourite character in Footballers’ Wives, it’s a tale of her frequently fraught relationship with the demon drink. She seems to be over the worst of her well documented past excesses as has recently gotten married. This newfound happiness seeps right through the record, particularly on Caught In The Middle and Louisiana. If You’re Looking For Love and The Good In Goodbye are good-time, cotton-pickin’ numbers and the lines “we’ll talk till we’re empty, drink till we’re blue” on Gypsy Song show that she hasn’t entirely lost her voracious lust for life just yet.

Around half of the record is made up of cover versions and an eclectic old bunch they are too. Weightless Again is a blackly comic song by quirky alt-country faves The Handsome Family, La Bague is a short French drinking song, Arglwydd Dyma Fi is an old Welsh hymn with a gorgeous, but distinctly un-Welsh, lap steel and All My Trials originally made up part of Elvis’ An American Trilogy.

Cerys is clearly as cock-a-hoop as the title suggests but fans of Catatonia’s indie pop may be a bit disappointed by the absence of a modern Mulder And Scully or a rehashed Road Rage. Given a fair chance though and it’s a charming change of direction.

Review by James S
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The eponymous album by Twinemen (Dana Colley and Billy Conway ex of Morphine - means nothing to me I’m afraid but a pal remembered and quite liked them -  and lead vocalist Laurie Sargent) is described by San Francisco Weekly as “Hypnotic and Cool”.  Well, maybe, but unfortunately too much of the album veers towards that side of hypnosis which helps you doze off.  Alright, it’s not that awful, but just too much of the album plods along at the same sluggish tempo; vaguely jazz, vaguely blues, throw in a soupcon of trip-hop.  It’s a well-trodden route - too well-trodden - but rather than concoct an interesting hybrid it ends too often dull and colourless, not enough light and shadow, with too many tracks meandering on and outstaying their welcome.  You’d fear for hearing some of this live - you just know they’ll take the opportunity to extend the songs.  And, it’s definitely not helped by too much monotone saxophone, too far forward in the mix (god, is that the moaning ghost of the Belle Stars I can sometimes hear?).

Interestingly, when the band’s natural inclination would seem to be to try to hit a trance groove - and get stuck in it - the two tracks where they up the tempo work best for me. The opener, “Spinner” might sound a bit like early Garbage, but that’s not such a bad thing.  The murky, layered sound works better over a slightly livelier pace, with Laurie Sargent adding a bit of bass and roughness to her vocals (which are, generally, one of the album’s strengths anyway).   Some more of the same, but to even better effect, is provided in the penultimate “Ronnie Johnson”, a rocking ode to a bad lad from the Pelecanos/Joe Lansdale school of noir who “crawled beneath my skin” and clearly did something quite unpleasant. It’s refreshing to hear a grating guitar solo create some menace and edge for a change.  And the album finishes with “Who’s Gonna Sing” which, whilst it reverts to the slowed down tempo, goes for simplicity and is all the better for it. Percussionist Billy Conway takes on lead vocal, over little more than a restrained backbeat, a (mercifully lighter) sax refrain and some hushed harmonies. It provides a wistful, elegiac conclusion to the album.  It’s a shame the rest of the album can’t have more of the variety of its ending.

Review by Brendan C
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Every summer deserves a record to bring a little bit of sunshine to those who, nevertheless, prefer a substantial bone of introspection to gnaw upon with their music.  Last year brought us the delight of James Yorkston's shambling modern folk masterpieces.  This year our gem comes from across the Atlantic in the shape of Rilo Kiley's second album.  Signed to Nebraska's Saddle Creek, they bring a few rays of Californian light to the thoughtful bedroom folk pop so successfully crafted by labelmates Bright Eyes. Without really drifting too far in style the songs evoke a range of different styles. Just to take a few, there's the 60's psychedelic tinged likes of So Long, the full blown indie guitar pop of Paint's Peeling and Spectacular Views, the Casio driven nursery rhyme of the recurring floating track (buy the CD, you'll see what I mean) and that's how i choose to remember it, the martial beat-backed drinking-song for the inadequate A Better Son/Daughter, and the light as air, dark at heart, beauty of the title track.  Main singer, Jenny Lewis', voice drifting beautifully over most with writing partner Blake Sennett filling in on others.  Strangely, given the darkness behind their pop, they even manage to come up with, in With Arms Outstretched, the song that Polyphonic Spree would've made if their music were anywhere near as good as their showmanship.  A perfect record for those who find the likes of Bright Eyes (whom I love) a little on the stodgy side - less direct but just as interesting and with the same feel for a tune.  This might just be the best piece of thoughtful pop since the Go-Betweens  were in their pomp.  Out for us in the UK at the start of June, make Rilo Kiley the soundtrack to your summer.

Review by Matt H
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Another trip down that wormhole that connects 2003 to 1983.   Another ‘I Love The ‘80s’ although, unlike the New York contingent, this North Carolina-based duo pluck their inspiration from the lighter, poppier tones of the Cars, Blondie, Haircut 100 and The B-52s (the latter comparison is overused but it seems to fit Short Drive Home with its Schneider-esque couplet “I’ll buy a house and find a wife and spend my life in Idaho”).  There are some big names associated with Shirlé Hale and David Koslowski, the duo who make up Gerty’s current incarnation: the pellucid production comes courtesy of Chris Stamey (DBs and the solo genius behind ‘The Summer Sun’ 7”) while Mitch Easter (Let’s Active and onetime REM producer) and Jon Wurster (Superchunk) contribute musically.  

The sound is upbeat but the lyrics can be dark, like on Lower Moreland with its sinister trip back to schooldays.  Magnastar is full of synth-swirls and woo-ooo backings, sounding like it’s just leapt off the soundtrack of ‘Pretty In Pink’ or ‘Mannequin’ or almost anything featuring Molly Ringwald.   There’s a splendid version of Julian Cope’s Head Held High with its acid-psych tang, complete with judgement day trumpet and thunder crashes.  She Rides Trains In Belgium bucks the 80s trend and is all the better for it, with its melancholic, rhythmic European synthpop.  The album is knowing and evocative, even though it wears its influences a tad too obviously sometimes.  But it’s a good one to play on Ferris Bueller’s day off. 

Reviewed by Ged M
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This album has been out for a couple of weeks now and has been a mainstay on my stereo since it’s release. The first thing I have to say is that this is loud, bloody loud. Opener “Gelare Regina” is guilty as charged. At first I think the CD must have a lot of surface noise and scratches but it soon becomes clear that the distorted noise, which is blasting through my speakers, is deliberate and I think my beloved JPW Sonatas have met their match. What causes this noise? It could be the samples, the cello or, as the press release states, that the band plays their guitars backwards!

However underneath all that noise are some layers of sheer beauty, which includes the bands second single “Mirrors and Cameras” which was previously released as 500 limited edition 7" white vinyl. “My Body Is A Nightclub” is another prime example, building up slowly before exploding into a crescendo - “Nemo” is short but definitely not sweet. Then it’s all over, thirty-five minutes of frantic power pop/rock – that’s the way it should be!

This reminds me of so much yet I cannot place a thing. Visions of Husker Du and The Pixies abound but it still maintains its originality. Top entertainment and well worth shelling out for!

Also try and work your way through the band’s website, which is designed to match the album cover, at http://www.xisgreaterthany.co.uk/

Review by Tom B
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This is a vinyl only 12” for the band from Dallas, Texas, named after a Harry Crews novel.  This band is scuzzy!   We’re talking about primitive blues-rock, distorted through volume, the vocals hoarse and almost indecipherable, the guitar making noises like a tortured cat, the percussion sounding like the drum kit is composed of kitchen implements.  It’s more insane than a Viking Beserker out of his mind on acid mould and fresh blood.   It almost defies comparison.  Imagine the John Spencer Blues Explosion stepping on a landmine.  Try the Cramps for rawness or Billy Childish for fundamentalist blues rock zeal.  Remember how bad the production was on Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers’ first album?  Well, A Feast of Snakes make that muzzled, muddied, primeval swamp rock naturally.  Burning Off The Fog is like a Sixties garage rock classic 7” played with a blunt needle as the guitars tear off a repetitive, sinister riff.  What You Ain’t has the most conventional structure but Love Like Cancer is the standout, with its blues wailing and scratchy guitars.  The whole thing sounds like it was put down live, in one take.  If you like your rock raw, best to hear it that way: crank the amp up to “deafness” and put the stylus in the groove.  You’ll hurt, but it’s real. 

Reviewed by Ged M
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