|
|
||||||
|
|||||||
|
|
||||||
|
|||||||
contents |
albums - reviews... page 6 |
|
0-60 comp |
see previous reviews page (#5)
They may say it won't bother them, but of course it will. Having a number 1 single is a rather bigger deal than Cornershop would like to portray. When "Brimful Of Asha" slaved the charts way back in '98, it changed Tijinder Singh's life forever. Listening to this album, the follow up to that which "Asha" was taken from, you can almost feel it bothering them at every turn. You can feel them trying to put it out of their minds, but failing. Luckily, it makes for a great record. You will have heard the rather fabulous "Lessons
Learnt From Rocky I To Rocky III", with it's fantastic Stones riff and call to
arms lyrics. This, however, manages not to drown the album, and other tracks stand up just
as well. The lo-fi hip-hop blast of "Wogs Will
Walk" is another standout, it's somewhat disturbing lyrics almost masked by the
fascinating production. "Staging The Raising Of The Stage Platform" is
a perfect blast of summertime rock. So a great record then. But one that will be overshadowed by their previous exploits on 45's. You can almost hear the bearded man in HMV picking the album up, "Didn't this lot do that song a few years back..." c
A five CD box set for only £12.99? Have they gone mad? Well, yes probably but let’s not allow their loss of sanity to deprive us of a bargain and that’s what this 60 track, 5 CD set from the Oxford based Shifty Disco is, comprising their entire output from January 1996 to the end of last year, one release per month. Ok you can’t expect every one to be a pop gem and indeed there’s a fair few poop nuggets here but how else would I have discovered the emo/greebo Senor Nachos by Dustball, the doleful Radiohead-ish Building by the Unbelievable Truth, the Beatles-ish Blah Na Na by Impossible Music Force, the awesome techno punk cover of Teenage Kicks by DJ Remould or another Beatlesish effort, Welcome by the Full Monty. And that’s just CD1. Worth the money for that disc alone. The other four CDs have less quality control but do feature the quirky effervescent Magnetic Fields-ish Who’s That Calling from Blue Apple Boy, the funny Badass with a Heart of Gold by Jason Morphew and the best of all, the cheesy, saucy and goofy Sexy and Blue by the Corsettes, that sounds like Marilyn Monroe on the Big Dipper at Blackpool. Brilliant! Reviewed by
Mawders
The band call this “maximum rock‘n’soul” on their website and that’s a pretty fair summation. They also promise “ a shitload of jams that will make you want to smash your little wussy indie rock records”. Maybe you’ll just want to add this to your wussy little indie records and Poptones are making it possible by releasing a compilation of The Bellrays’ two US albums for British ears. The band have been around for a decade in California, originally playing punk tunes and it shows in the no-shit pedal-to-the metal attitude collected on the album. The music itself mixes the MC5 (think anything from ‘Kick Out The Jams’) and Stooges with James Brown and the Ike ‘n’ Tina Turner Show – Lisa Kekaula screams it out like TT in her prime. Like the Dirtbombs and Detroit Cobras, the Bellrays could be your bog-standard blues rockers stripmining the past but it’s the combination of punk attitude and a stunning frontperson that make all these bands so contemporary. With the Bellrays you get relentlessly slashing guitars, throbbing rhythms and Lisa K’s huge bluesy vocals.Standout track is the single “Fire on the Moon” which starts with a punk rush that doesn’t let go and has vocals that would melt concrete. “Hole in the World” has some sweetly sung moments which get swept up when the guitar tears open the song like a jackhammer rips up the road. “Blue Cirque” is a slowburning blues, where Lisa‘s vocal chords must take more strain than cables on a suspension bridge. And the last track, not listed on the sleeve, is “Have a Little Faith in Me”, a real late night blues and showing another side to the band. It’s not subtle but it is loud and authentic and if you’ve been looking for fire and soul, come and meet the Bellrays. Reviewed by
Ged
Due to the foot and mouth outbreak last year, Shane actually played two St Paddy’s Day gigs, one in New York and another delayed one in May for Dublin. Shane’s whiskey addled gravely voice slurs its way through twenty Popes and Pogues classics and this CD can’t capture just how special these occasions must have been for the participants and audience, both filled to spilling with Guinness and Irish ancestry, both real and imaginary. Still to the long-term fans, and I am one, it is a worthy release and all the more interesting for the finale, Fairytale of New York, performed as a duet with Shane’s mum! GALLON DRUNK Fire Music (Sweet
Nothing) Thankfully GD have ditched the raucous muse of their youth for a
more amenable well-Staxed floozy, who puts a bit of fire in their loins and inspires them
to make a funky beer cellar soul. James Johnston’s vocals smoulder and seeth in
almost whispered tones under a slow lava flow of horns, wah gtr, swelling organ [Easy
tiger! - Ed] that ooze tense sweaty emotion. It all comes to fruition on the gentle
Things Will Change, which starts with a gospelly piano and builds through a steady rhythm
into soaring harmonies and Stax horns. Yes, it will make you feel good. Overall, the
music is relaxed and free ranging (sometimes free-forming) – as well as the soulful
soulwrenching there’s a cinematic side as displayed on 70’s US cop
soundtracklike Fire Music (Part Two). But what suprises and delights is the version
of Bob Dylan’s Series of Dreams where – it seems to me at any rate - GD add on
the rhythm and vocalisation from Joy Division’s Atmosphere. I can see your
raised eyebrows…but it actually works to good effect. Genius. The more I listen
to this album the more I enjoy it. It’s definitely a grower - a slow burning
fire in the soul. Not a great deal of punk of merit is still being produced in the UK. In the US and Canada however, it’s still a major force and Hellcat are one of the premier labels. This ultra cheap taster, priced at under a fiver, serves as a sampler for some of the current crop on that label. The album kick starts with a few of the bigger names. The Distillers have an immense live reputation and Sick of It All is probably their most famous track over here. The Dropkick Murphys follow with the excellent The Legend of Finn MacCumhail, a sort of Stiff Little Fingers meet the Pogues 100 mph yomp. US Bombs’ Die Alone borrows the riff from Something Else but played by the Clash and there then follows a pair of gruff voiced Lars Frederiksen led efforts, firstly with old band, Rancid and then spin-off band, The Bastards. Rancid, and their earlier incarnation, Operation Ivy, have been criminally ignored by the British press, who can’t accept that there can still be a market for punk or ska, post-1977. Their gigs at the Garage and Underworld a few years ago remain amongst my personal faves. The track on here, Golden Gate Fields, is not one of their best but it still kicks seven shades of buttdribble out of anything Starsailor have produced. His effort with the Bastards, Skunx, though, is better. There then follows a few fairly ordinary efforts from b-graders such as Agnostic Front though Amera Nightmare by Duane Peters and the Hunns brings up fond memories of early Pogues. Roger Miret and the Disasters produce an anthemic Rancid-esq rendition of the title track. Nekromantix do a passable Tenpole Tudor and the tiger in Tiger Army could be renamed New Model. The album then has three reggae numbers (including one by Mr Strummer) that are not really my bag but then it all comes back to life with the pop ska of the Pietasters before fading out again with reggae or weak punk. All in all, for the price of little more than a CD single you get some of the best punk currently around and that’s got to be worth moshing for. Reviewed by
Mawders
Weezer are bigger than a lorryload of chubbies at the moment and it has had an effect on young American middle class kids who want to form a band and are too sensitive to be nu-metal or hardcore. Labeled emo, short for emotional hardcore, they actually spend a bit of time thinking about the lyrics, the big pansies. Still whilst I can’t wait for nu-metal to be dumped in that large skip marked “What were we thinking of?”, it is possible to find enjoyable moments amongst the offerings of these well spoken polite young things. One track stands out like a sixty foot beacon on a cliff top, At Your Funeral is one of those defiant tub thumping numbers that could fill a stadium with raised Zippos - a terrific piece of rock pop and hopefully a huge hit for them when it’s released as a single. The rest of the album never reaches that peak again though it has an enjoyable enough splattering of Weezer style chugging guitar numbers and catchy Blink 182 punk poppettes but fortunately minus any need to expose their backsides. Reviewed by Mawders LUNATIC CALM Breaking Point (City of Angels) South London duo Lunatic Calm play an electronica that twists and
turns, defying attempts to pin it down or make easy comparisons. OK that’s not
much help. Nor does it give LC an identifiable tag. So imagine that LC are on
a journey through a city without maps, free wheeling wherever they want to go, picking up
sounds and tunes on their trip. The album starts off with an Underworldish Beatbox
Burning, a pulsing heavy rhythm submerging and surfacing against a narrative vocal, then
things shift with the rocky Sound of the Revolution (imagine an electronic Oasis, or think
of Delakota rock-dance fusion); it’s all change with the funky-jazzy Go Wild (reminds
me, whatever happened to Roni Size?) and then back again with the heavy Leftfield sounding
Shockwave (think Guinness advert). And just when you think you’ve got LC sussed as
electronica songsters they’ll produce a lazy groove cinematic score (chances are you
have heard LC on The Matrix, Charley’s Angels, Arlington Road soundtracks) such as on
Your Future, or else serve up the floating ambient Yesterday. So a rich
variety: somehow original and yet familiar. It breaks no new ground but it’s
all fused together with a lightness of touch that bears repeated listening (and not just
having on in the background...:) Reviewed by Kev RED SEPTEMBER Wake Up Call (Static Records) Perhaps an unfortunate name, with tragic connotations, now that terrorism chic is only popular on the catwalks of Kandahar. But to overlook this because of the name and apocalyptic cover would be a shame because Red September are more than your average US rock band. They sound like the Ramones, Replacements and particularly the more power-pop side of Husker Du, and share with Bob Mould a gloomy and downbeat view of the world, wrapped up in loud and energising music. Singer/guitarist/writer Peter Schorn has an intelligent and cynical outlook on life and it’s helpful that his lyrics are included. The excellent cover of New Model Army’s “Stupid Questions” (another band who put polemic before pop and sometimes squeezed a quart of a lyric into a pint pot of a song) is a good clue to where Red September are at. Often, their targets are a bit wide and easy (organised religion, the web, wealth and class difference) and the lyrics become hectoring and preachy, overshadowing the music, and you’d prefer a sharper political attack. But then “#1 With A Bullet” scores on the subject of gun use by kids (though marks deduced for the line “and then it was time to go and find those twits”!) and the opener “Graffiti” sums up well the post 9-11 state of the union. “#1..” is one of the musical highlights with its brilliantly melodic guitars and use of harmonies, while “WWW” and “Killjoy” are fast and punchy. Reviewed by
Ged |
Do you remember that time? When anger plus guitars didn't always mean fat men jumping about on a stage, rapping badly?? When Nu-Metal didn't rule the world?? Six by Seven clearly do, as they prove on this, their third album. Closing track "Bad Man" is an angry and vitriolic as it gets. Lead singer Chris Olley shouts and screams over grinding punk rock guitars. Something has clearly upset him. This is an album full of emotion, pathos, guilt, pain and love. And handily, it features some of Six By Seven's best ever songs. Recent single "IOU Love" is an absolute stormer, it's chiming guitars and cool, automated backing perfectly complement each other, and Olley's restrained vocals add a sinister edge. Previous single "So Close" is nearly as good, with it's piano bashing intro providing a perfect opener to the record. On "All My New Best Friends", Six By Seven cleverly (I assume) parody the glut of Buckley-hugging NAM bands that have arrived between this and their last album. Sadly, they do nothing but join them, as it's a killer tune, and is one of the most genuinely affecting tracks on the album. But this an album full of highlights. From the moody rock of the title track, to the frenetic punk rush of "Speed Is In, Speed Is Out." The intro to this by the way, sounds exactly like Solway's 'Much Against Everyone's Advice." But we can forgive them such trivialities. Especially when they produce track after track of raw power, emotion and angst. But perhaps that's where the album falls down. "All My New Best Friends" provides a welcome change of pace in the album, and this occurs far too early. We then end up with track after track of, admittedly good, frantic rock workouts. Which is fine, until Six By Seven sink to such lows as the White Stripesathon of "Flypaper For Freaks", or the confused, tired and samey "Cafeteria Rats". But these are minor quibbles. On the whole, Six By Seven have produced a fantastic, powerful, angry album with enough cracking tunes to feed an army. Success deserves to come their way. As that involves justice, it will never happen. Reviewed by Joe
Is it possible to have too many chill-out CDs? Can one tire of that smooth, late-night sound? Fila Brazillia's 8th album might just be enough to persuade you that the mellow music genre is alive and kicking, and that you should shell out fifteen quid for something to add to your collection of K&D, Bonobo and Zero 7. "Jump Leads" is Fila Brazillia's eighth album, an acheivment in itself considering how short-lived and unproductive some of their electronica rivals can. There's just enough of their offbeat quirkiness to keep their core audience happy, but this album has a much more organic, analogue, even jazzy slant. The Hull-based duo have also introduced vocals, a bold step which at first listening simply doesn't seem to work - "Spill the Beans" has an uncomfortable whiff of the Vic Reeves pub singer about it. Like all good albums, though, it's a slow burner. Given a few straight-through listenings it slowly grows and starts to make sense, and even the trickier vocal tracks start to blend into the greater whole. Overall, this album pushes the downtempo forwards a little. Fila BraziLlia could easily have produced an album like all their others. They haven't, but then they haven't done a "Kid A" on us either. Give it a few listens, and their inventiveness slowly pays off, even if a few diehard fans are left disappointed. Reviewed by TL DRESSY BESSY Sound Go Round (Track and Field) Dressy Bessy are a Denver based female fronted four piece and this is their second album. They look like C86 geeks, all cardies and anoraks, but their music owes more to sixties pop, beautifully sugary Chiffons-like harmonies over slightly fuzzed guitars. They're Saint Etienne or Dubstar with guitars and a singer that can sing. Can you imagine Slipknot attempting to open an album with a line like “I Saw Cinnamon rockin down the row, he had his arms full of melody fa-so-la-ti-do”? Hmmm. Thankfully these saccharin oozing sweetie pies do and not only that but get away with it in a candy car hit n run. Every song’s a potential single so picking highlights is tricky but I guess the cherries on the top of this gorgeous sticky bun would be the garagey pair That’s Why and Carry On and the Belle and Sebastian-ish Buttercups. Buy this album, play it to death and then when you can play it no more go and buy their first album because unbelievably that’s even better. Reviewed by
mawders THIRTEENTH FLOOR ELEVATORS The Psychedelic World of.. (3CD box set, Charly Records) Everything you wanted to know, and a lot more you probably didn’t need to, about the Elevators who were the greatest psychedelic band of the 60s. On this new compilation you’ll find the four official International Artists LPs, two live gigs from 1966 and 1967 and 9 rare bonus tracks. Of these, only the first two LPs, ‘The Psychedelic Sounds Of’ and ‘Easter Everywhere’, are essential but as the whole thing costs about £20 you can afford to be selective. A lot of other 60s stuff sounds dated and twee but this has kept its LSD-fuelled charge with its mix of blues, Beatles and soul music. If you ever thought of the 60s as just crap clothes and hippy shit, the Elevators will make you think again. “You’re Gonna Miss Me” and “Fire Engine” are still elemental punk tunes, the slower tunes like “Splash 1” are still haunting, while “Slip Inside This House” is an intense trip in more than one sense with brilliant, spaced out mystical lyrics. What makes it special are Roky’s bluesy, pyrotechnic vocals (he cited Little Richard, James Brown and John Lee Hooker as his influences), the acid-charge of the band and the unique sound of Tommy Hall’s “jug”. If the Elevators hadn’t existed, Spacemen 3 and Primal Scream wouldn’t have come together, Echo and the Bunnymen would have remained a poppy bunch of sixth-form scousers and Julian Cope would have taken the heavy metal road, while their contemporaries like the Rolling Stones and Pink Floyd would have stayed drug free and kept their repressed British ways. The Roky Erickson tribute album, which includes tracks by REM and the Jesus and Mary Chain, shows the regard in which people still hold him. Downsides are the artwork cover, which is inspired by but never comes close to the cover of the first album - in my view, one of the most evocative pieces of art produced in the period. And the sound quality on some of the concert tracks (the official “live” album wasn’t live) is understandably pretty ropy. But the enclosed booklet has a short commentary and rare photos and tells the sad story of how they fought the law and the rednecks won, at the cost of Roky’s sanity. Yet the Elevators get the last (in some cases posthumous) laugh as this stuff is out (again) and is still inspiring people to explore music and consciousness. So just turn on, tune in and buy a ticket on the next bus to Mayhem and Psychosis. Reviewed by
Ged Bit late off the mark on this one, as it seems it came out last August in the States. But it’s only around on import over in the UK and if, like me, you’d got bored with the endless re-treads of Jesus Built my Hotrod that made up their previous couple of albums you’d think twice about shelling out import prices. So, having eventually stumbled across it in a sufficiently inebriated state to part with £17 (largely because of the cool lenticular cover of a giant baby zapping fighter aircraft) I was chuffed to discover that it’s really rather good. The feel does hark back to their cut up and paste brilliance of the mid-eighties (in particular the fun of Hairway to Steven and the radio noise and chants of Locust Abortion Technician), though filtered through more indie-friendly tunes like the only decent recent effort, the Lord is a Monkey. There are even a couple of obvious X-FM sing-a-long singles – the Shame of Life (which allegedly Kid Rock had something to do with, fortunately to little ill-effect) and Dracula in Houston (with a chorus curiously making you want to join in with “Stop children, whats that sound?…”). The whole thing is kicked off by Gibby Haynes ranting out a Malcolm X style call to revolution by the weird (“the normal man performs surgery on our weird women…”), the other stand-out being Jet Fighters. When recorded this was undoubtedly just a nice little twisted tale - US fighter pilot gets shot down while bombing Beirut, meets Jesus in heaven but then they’re both cast down ‘cos Allah’s in charge – but doubtlessly had the potential to make them public enemy number two towards the end of last year. No idea if that has anything to do with its lack of distribution here. Overall the album lacks the edginess of their earlier highs, but it is the reassuring sound of a band who haven’t, as I’d feared, given up. SALOON (This is) What We Call Progress (Track & Field) I’d like to see this lot’s houses. Ornaments dusted, every piece of furniture in place and at the correct angles to each other, CD collection in alphabetical order. The album’s like this, reflecting the band’s desire for perfection. Production is pristine and the sound crystal. The songs, bar one, come in at over five minutes each so there’re all elaborate constructions with bells and whistles, strings and brass effects attached to the basic framework of the songs. There are two sides of Saloon represented here. The first is the poppier sonic constructions of “”Plastic Surgery” and the most melodic track, “Girls Are the New Boys” with a metronymic, driving rhythm consisting of a wash of sound, with Amanda Gomez’s high vocals almost used as a instrument in themselves. “Le Weekend” is particularly ethereal, on which vocals and title combine to suggest a Stereolab/Krautrock influence. “Static”, with its doomy strings sounds like something from a late Go-Betweens album and there’s a heady contrast between the light Kate Bush-y vocals and growly bass lines. The other side is represented by slower, moody songs like “Bicycle Thieves”, “Make It Soft” and, perhaps the best track, the sweetly melodic “My Everyday Silver is Plastic”. These wouldn’t be disowned by the New Acoustic Movement, all keening, whispery vocals, spaghetti western horns and haunting melodica. Between them they show a band that has spent the last four years arranging its influences and honing its sound. If you want a band that you can listen to and unpick as well as cry to and dance to, you might call in at Saloon. Reviewed by
Ged MATES OF STATE Our Constant Concern (Polyvinyl Record Company) ‘Quirky’. If that’s the only word you read in this review, you’ve already got the gist of this album. Oh - and ‘simple yet complex’. That might help too. ‘Circus music for hyperactive teenagers’ maybe. Well, if you’ve got this far, you might as well read on. The Mates of State are San Francisco citizens Kori Gardner and Jason Hammel. Gardner plays the organ, Hammel plays the drums and they both sing. Apart from a trumpet, that’s the minimalist sum total of this album. But the music itself is far more complex. The songs are indie-folk pop, full of melody but also wilfully flirting with avant-garde and MOR. They’re sung intensely and energetically, sometimes atonally, and they combine a dozen ideas and changes of direction in each song. And the lyrics! Individual sentences make sense but put together (lyrics are printed on the sleeve) they’re just a collection of non-sequiturs, both funny-bizarre and irritating. At times they reminded me of the Monkees at their most experimental and, unsettlingly, once or twice like Dean Freedman. But the most obvious comparison is They Might Be Giants and if you mourned their passing, you’ll probably love this. If you’re coming at this fresh, you’ll either love or hate it (there’s nothing in between) but before you judge it, give it a chance to woo you first. Reviewed by Ged
Well, things weren't looking promising: bit of a naff name, alternative grammar title, and a lot of talk about animals - pigs and horses - that I've only really ever had time for on my dinner plate. And, I learned, they're big in the world of mp3 indie-pop, which sounded like a scary little ghetto of the useless to me (this review might be on a website, but that doesn't mean I own a computer...). So my gob was well and truly smacked to discover that this is a good little album. The music is mostly delicate, indie-folk singer-songwriter acoustic ballads that call to mind all the right people (Nick Drake and, strangely, David Bowie among them) but distinctively enough to avoid that depressing "deja-entendu" feeling you often get when one person starts droning on over a guitar. It's also spiced up with some primitive electronic sounds, similar to early Magnetic Fields but without the Depeche Mode fixation, that add to the interest. A good colletion of songs very much worth a listen for all you lo-fi alt.country bumpkins out there. Use new-fangled mp3 malarkey to try before you buy at www.thingsinherds.co.uk Reviewed by SPT |
|
CLINIC Walking With Thee (Domino)There’s
something quite nerve tingling about the second full album release from Merseyside’s
Clinic. It has that slightly spooky feel that
makes you want to turn the volume up, the lights low and leave you wallowing in your own
state of discomfort. It’s dark, very
dark, almost Gothic without being goth, the obvious, and much mentioned, Velvet
Underground influence evident in much of the album coupled with the simplistic keyboard
riff and bass style of 70s electronic art-punk pioneers, Suicide. But whilst the sound may be dark, it’s not
dull and there’s an uptempo busy electronica feel to most of it. Many of the tracks depart little from the
hypnotic bassline from a previous single, Second Line, which was so distinctive it became
the background to a Levi’s ad so although the overall effect is very good, picking
out individual tracks and commenting on them is difficult - the Michael Nyman syndrome. However I will name a few: The Equaliser which is a pleasant off-kilter
effort with Molko style vocals (but without the hysterics), Welcome, which has a touch of Randy Scouse Git by the Monkees, Walking with Thee which is Dandy Warhols-ish and
Pet Eunuch which is a Hives-like 60s
garage/Stooges punk romp. The pick of the lot
though is saved till last, For the Wars, a
60s folky-tinged dreamer. Very few
albums are as consistently good as this so from this writer at least, a big clap for the
Clinic. You can see the excellent video for the Walking With Thee single at cliniconline. reviewed
by mawders TEENAGE FANCLUB & JAD FAIR Words of Wisdom and Hope (Geographic) TFC have collaborated with Alex Clinton and Frank Black in the past so this pairing isn’t unprecedented. It’s billed as ‘TFC & Jad Fair’ on the front cover and ‘Jad Fair & TFC’ on the back so the intention is an equal partnership. This may not completely work in practice because Jad Fair’s presence is so prominent. His cover art alone is a pretty good indication of what to expect: bold, naïve, colourful and full of childlike awe. His vocals are front and centre in every song, unlike your average Fanny tune, and he comes over as a cross between Lou Reed and Roky Erickson (if that sounds far-fetched, count the number of references to vampires, zombies and Frankenstein). The clarity of the vocals means that you have to listen to his fairly idiosyncratic delivery and his lyrics about pure, romantic love, and, admittedly, Jad Fair is an acquired taste, especially when half the songs exceed 4 minutes and two pass the 6-minute mark (which tests your attention span at times). But take some of the lyrics like “I’d let Dracula drink my blood, I’d let a zombie eat my arm/just if I could be near” with a pinch of salt and you’ll find plenty to take hope from (though wisdom seems in short supply). For a start, TFC indulge their love of rock ‘n’ roll in accompanying Jad Fair in a variety of styles. There’s a driving Velvet Underground rhythm to “Behold the Miracle” while the Suicide influence is prominent throughout and “Secret Heart” has a Doors-y organ part. “The Good Thing” is propelled by a country-ish beat and the sound of “You Rock” is deeply soulful. On “Near to You” the sound is almost classic TFC circa Bandwagonesque. Katrina Mitchell’s sublime backing vocals on this and other tracks provide a rousing and ultra melodic chorus and some contrast to the quirky lead vocal. Although nothing quite matches the impact of the first three tracks, over the album TFC don’t let themselves be relegated to a backing band and their sound is as great as it’s ever been. I wouldn’t be happy if Jad Fair was the new TFC vocalist but there’s enough here to keep me happy till the next proper album from Norman and the boys. Reviewed by Ged VARIOUS ARTISTS - SELECTED BY ZERO 7 Another Later Night (Azuli) The Another Late Night compilation series has always been at the forefront of the club comedown set, generally incorporating a seamless collection of soul, jazz, hip hop and classical pieces. Its now on its 4th incarnation, and has produced some interesting results with the likes of Fila Brazilia, and Rae and Christian. Then along come Zero 7, still riding on the press buzz of their ‘the British Air’ tag line, and their Mercury Prize nominated album, Simple Things…. Zero 7 have certainly come up with a hugely varied mixture of remixes and renditions, varying from their jazzy Red Eyes, overdubbed Witness and latino pop on Pra Manha, and have kept the theme of which Another Late Night is all about, but don’t go expecting another Simple Things. This is what it says on the tin….a compilation of 16 ‘Another Late Night’ inspired remixes, not a Zero 7 album (in fact they only remix one track, Truth & Rights). Its certainly varied and interesting, but in the crowded arena of chill compilations (Damn Im beginning to hate that term ‘chill’), I would say it is merely resting on its laurels here than breaking new ground or introducing new paths. Lets hope Groove Armada can lift the 5th Another Late Night album from the current (rubbing eyes and yawning) not Another Late Night… Reviewed by Eggz
It's bleepy, almost Aphex Twin influenced opener "Sex With Strangers" is a genuine highlight, with Faithfull's marvellous cracked bell of a voice combining well with the risqué (for 1969) lyric. But the album never again captures the perfect meeting of contemporary and classic. "Like Being Born" is a particular nadir. Apparently Beck was sitting in the studio during this one. It's folk influenced moanings about Faithfulness parents do nothing but come across as self indulgent and unworthy. "I'm On Fire" drags on for what seems like four hours, whereas tracks such as "Love And Money" and "Song For Nico", no matter how real the sentiment, are just...ordinary. The interesting Blurillaz cross point of title
track "Kissin Time", which closes the album is a fascinating track, but only for
Albarn's part, not Faithful. A guest appearance on your own record? You should know better
Marianne. Reviewed by Joe
Can you remember
the last time you read something about Tanya Donelly and didn’t see the word
‘kooky’ mentioned at least once? Or piece that didn’t have a
reference to her carrying a canine carcass on her back? No, you don’t need the
memory of a… er thingummyjig to realise this lady’s greatest quality has been
not just her eery distinctive voice but her ability to write and perform quirky numbers
with entertaining oddball lyrics. However there’s been a subtle change.
This is her first release for five years and during this time she’s married and had a
child and these key developments have had an effect on her product. The music and
vocals may still be ethereal but the lyrics now reflect the key changes that have taken
place; “when I stumble it will be under your spell, at your command and when I
stumble it will be into your hand” (the storm) is presumably marriage and
“now I sit with my babe at my breast I was never this good at my best, never
higher” (the night you saved my life) is clearly motherhood. Dogs
everywhere can sleep easy tonight. So un-kookied, is
it any good? The answer is a resounding yes. The major disappointment of her
solo debut, Love Songs for Underdogs, has passed and this album, whilst more measured,
delicate and thoughtful than anything produced during the Belly, Breeders or Muses days
succeeds due to the quality of both the songs and her voice. The Storm is the
beautiful tale of the joy at finding love, over a simple tune, carried entirely by
Tanya’s wonderful ghostly vocals. The Night You Saved My Life has a
Breeders feel to it, I’m Keeping You borders on Sinead O’Connor territory
with its angst ridden big chorus, preceded by military snare and Moonbeam Monkey is
Belly-like. Another Moment is pure 4AD (think This Mortal Coil) and So
Much Song is nice country. So there you are, the Queen of Kooky has dished out
another tasty treat with no filler. reviewed by mawders THE COME ONS Hip Check (Sympathy for the Record Industry) Another Detroit band, but one that takes its inspiration from 60s R’n’B and 70s funk, down to the very cool retro packaging. At its best, on the opening track “It’s Alright”, the insistent dancey beat is classic and hypnotic. When the Charlatans hear the pure funk groove of “Mesmeriser”, they’ll sit down and weep. The rest of the album splits equally between pop-soul done with a Debbie Harry vocal (“Sunday Drive” being the best example) and funk of the Jimmy Smith organ variety. In order, the most prominent sounds on the album are Deanne Iovan’s vocals, her bass and (usually) her organ, with the guitar playing second fiddle(!). It’s energetic and consistent over the album so that tracks like “Heavy” (true to its name) and the simplest but most real song that closes the album, “Dollar in My Pocket”, are welcome, palate-clearing changes in pace. If anyone misses the Style Council for their organ-driven dance numbers, apart from Mick Talbot’s mum, here’s the perfect replacement. Reviewed by
Ged I AM THE WORLD Out of the Loop (Track and Field) The debut album from US
lo-fi electropopping duo I Am The World is a classic collection of pop melodies melded to
dance patterns/structures. Of course, when I say pop I don’t mean the
verse/chorus version; these songs have a dance mix approach, which layers on/removes
samples and rhythmic loops to create a groove. Perhaps this is probably not
surprising given Daniel Geller’s remixing background. And it’s not
surprising to learn that the LP was composed entirely on a laptop, and that its songs are
festooned with drum loops, synthbass lines and a variety of samples from flute to sitar.
Amy
Dykes (Daniel’s girlfriend) provides vocals – not unlike Sarah Cracknell it has
to be said in gentleness, tone and delivery. The St Etienne comparison also begs to be
made on a number of poptastic tunes. Like the uptempo Metro, with its organ
and guitar riff samples, Me to Be, with its staccato rhythm, flute figure, and
scratching, Light Delay, with its shuffling sampled drum and FXdelayed organ, and Aurora
Borealis, with its pop-pedestrian drum, electric bass, vibraphone and flute (again).
It’s like best bits of Foxbase Alpha but much much better. If
you’ve heard the single, Look Around You (not the best track here in my view
– there are many other possible singles on display), is a good example of what IATW
are up to with its cheesy baggy-type stabbing piano chord and maracas lead drum pattern,
electronic warbles and wah guitar. But hold on, there’s more. Elsewhere
IATW wig out with samples and catchy rhythms, as on Inside Your Head, where the duo
duet over a sitar drone, pingponging blips and shuffling beat; Flute Loops, an
instrumental which sounds like a segment of the Rainbow theme played through a sampling
filter; and You Don’t Even Know Her, an uptempo dance floor number with
cascading bleeps which might (or not) be a lo-fi version of Maddy’s Ray of
Light. It’s
bright’n’breezy, it’s fun, and it’s an immensely enjoyable album.
Track and Field have turned up trumps again. Reviewed
by Kev THE PARKINSONS A Long Way to
Nowhere (Fierce Panda) This
is a debut mini-LP from the three quarters Portuguese four piece based in London.
They are easily one of the most exciting live outfits currently on the scene, playing
blistering 60s US garage punk with a snarling bad attitude and a penchant for public
nudity. This eight track taster only hints at that literally in the flesh
experience but is more than adequate for a wet Sunday indoors. Though recorded in
the studio, it’s all so raw, it feels like a semi live performance. Most
tracks clock in at little over two minutes so there’s little chance of boredom as you
surf along on an aural wave of sonic sweat and spittle. The highest points are the
Seeds-ish Primitive and the Stooges-esq Bad Girl but there are no lows in
evidence though track seven, Nothing to Lose, will work better live with its four
minutes of guitar wigout giving the boys an opportunity to roll around and goad the
audience. Anyway, it’s all short but far from sweet. Quite nasty,
actually, and all the better for it. Reviewed by mawders THE CHRONICS Make You Move (Bad Afro) The CD
may be digital but you can rely on Bad Afro to some up with no nonsense, analogue, full
valve, good time, garage rock’n’roll. If the cover was scratch and sniff
it’d have the smell of whiskey, cigarette smoke, sweaty bodies, bad breath and
leather trousers (probably). See The Chronics like that 60’s R&B’d
rock’n’roll sound and, boy, it’s great. Full of energy and passion,
The Chronics make you realise why this sort of music was good once upon a time. And
in singer Magnus Rudolfsson, they have a vocal exhibitionist who sounds like a man who
gargles with Jack Daniels every morning, or after every cigarette. Rasping and a
hollerin’ it’s a man whose mouth is a megaphone. And
you’ve to admire his spunky balls for starting off the LP with the line, “Well I
hate the Hives but the Hives got the nerve to get out of this beaten track” (Don’t
Hit on Me). Dissing
everyone’s favourite Swedes straight up starts proceedings nicely although you might
think that Make You Move is sort of (whispers) hivelike with a Howlin’ Pele
type breathless vocal calling out to the audience, and which builds with Stax horns,
swirling organ, a stonking Northern Soul rhythm section, to become a beast of tune. Whoa!
The pace slows on Honey Blue, which is like Them in attitude and in parts
akin to Here Comes the Night. Don’t Keep Me In Line, has Magnus
like a strung out Iggy whilst the rest of the band think they’re the Stooges, far
out! Hot Blood Boy (“I’m a hot blood boy/From a cold cold
city”) has a Primal’s Rocks type beat which basically means it’s dirty
Rolling Stones R&B. Oh lordy, it’s just great. And better than the
Primals. Rewind adds bongos and female harmonies to the rhythm giving it a
looser rock feel, and again very Stonesy (Rolling not Sly). It’s fresh and
refreshing rather than being derivative, however. But I won’t go on. The
Chronics don’t. 11 songs in just 32 minutes. No mucking
about. Definitely
a band to see live but no plans to tour here. Shame! C’mon Bad Afro, organise a
UK tour of your bands. (But you could check out label mates The Flaming Sideburns
who are playing in London in March. I’d be very surprised if they turned out to
be a couple of backroom knobtwiddlers). Bad Afro – the label that brings you
bands that breathe life into the walking corpse that is rock’n’roll! Or
something. Reviewed by Kev THRESHNER Electromantic (Searching for Cereal records) No info on the band as the sleeve is pretentiously cryptic about anything and the website (www.thresher.com) doesn’t work. So it’s the old standby of actually listening to the record….Who ever programmed this album is a sick puppy. We have songs, instrumentals and ‘instrumentals with story’ which turn out to be huge samples buried underneath rhythm guitars to the point of obscurity. Why? And the album starts with short instrumentals and instrumental/stories, adding the longer and more satisfying songs later. Again, no real rationale. The songs themselves sound like REM and early Church (especially “Surfacing”), with the Feelies influence prominent on the instrumentals. The lyrics to “The King” (“I am the king of letting down/I wear my failure like a crown”) are very Michael Stipe. Curiously, as the songs get longer and the lyrics become more poetic, the romantic influence of David Gedge seems more apparent. Try “Big Ben” or the more ponderous and pained “Still Nothing”. All told, it’s a bit of a bugger’s muddle but fans of the abovementioned bands might have fun in the grooves. Just re-programme the CD yourselves this time! Reviewed by Ged |
C
V
THE
S
S
