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albums - reviews... page 8 |
Earlier Reviews | see previous reviews page (#7) |
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So where are we now? "Heathen Chemistry" is where. And it's not a bad place to be. It would be churlish to consider this record to have anywhere near the impact of their debut, or it's mega selling follow up, but song for song, it certainly matches them. Granted, there are moments of lapse into the kind of pub rock arseness that Be Here Now stunk of, such as the faux glam nonsense of "Force of Nature", or the Rutles like Beatles parody of "(Probably) All In The Mind". But mostly, this is a warm, exuberant record, full of
classic Oasis tunes, waiting to be played to death at some post pub singalong in a
darkened flat somewhere. A triumph then. If not an all conquering Brazil like
victory, then certainly a South Korea pull it out of the bag like surprise. Reviewed by Joe
I put the CD in to
the record player and without me realising my pressing of the play button had failed to
register. I sat their listening to some bizarre hammering noise with birds chirping for a
good five minutes. I thought to myself that The Flaming Lips had gone somewhat downhill
resorting to low quality experimental opening tracks like this, before realising that the
hammering and bird chirping was actually just the noise outside my window and that the CD
player was inactive. Clearly I am a fuckwit, but I got it right second time round. The Flaming Lips return after three years with their follow up to 1999’s ‘The Soft Bulletin’. Believe it or not, I was only really familiar with the classic ‘She Don’t Use Jelly’ before this album, so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect as they had somehow managed to avoid my ears over the years. The opening track
(minus hammering and bird chirping) ‘Fight Test’ is a fairly unimpressive and
doesn’t really grab your attention or stun you in anyway, but it is a pleasant opener
and does seem to set-up the rest of the album nicely. As soon as track three ‘Yoshimi
Battles The Pink Robots pt.1’ is over I decided that this must be the highlight of
the album, and it seems I’m right. It’s an epic track and not many people can
sing a song about ‘evil robots’ so beautifully. The middle part of the album sounds like something Icelandic electronic-pop band M?m might come up with, lots of beeps and boop sounds, odd but enjoyable. As the album progresses the band seem to get more confident and experiment even more without going to ‘quirky’ or ‘zany’. The upcoming single ‘Do You Realize’ is also one of the album’s better songs and certainly a wise choice of release, mainly because it is so clichéd. Give the public what they want…drabness. Wayne Coyne’s singing is splendid and this album is certainly something a
little different to add a bit of spice to your CD collection, although a bit dull and
monotonous in places, you can’t help but enjoy some of it. There’s nothing
outstanding on the album, but there’s also nothing appalling on it either. You
can’t lose. Reviewed by Richard
The
daddies of nu-metal return with their 3 million bucks’ worth of a fifth album.
Without the gross-out shenanigans and silly masks of Slipknot, the politicism of System Of
A Down, or the boy band appeal and commercial rap-metal of Linkin Park, Korn take a trip
to the dark side of the human psyche; trauma, despair, misery. It’s gloomy,
oppressive, intense stuff, and with song titles like ‘Blame’, ‘Hollow
Life’, ‘Hating’ and ‘Alone I Break’ you know you’re not in
for chuckle-along-a-Korn. Well, what d’ya expect from a guy who suffered child abuse,
used to dissect bodies and has a fascination for serial killers? In the
Indian caste system the Untouchables are the lowest of the low. J. Edgar Hoover, head of
the FBI, put together his Untouchables as agents who couldn’t
be bought. So are Korn telling us they’re outcasts, people who won’t sell out,
or a band who are out of reach of their contemporaries? Who knows. But after the massive
cost and a 3 year wait is ‘Untouchables’ any good? The
album kicks off with the single ‘Here To Say’ with punchy, swaggering riffing
from their trademark buzzsaw 7-string guitars and down-tuned rumbling bass. ‘So I
take my face and bash it into a mirror’ growls frontman Jonathon Davis, lyrics which
pretty much set the tone for the whole album. ‘Make Believe’ is very Marilyn
Manson; it’s probably no coincidence that production duties are handled by Michael
Beinhorn who has worked with the weird one. ‘Blame’ follows the pattern of
alternating between aircraft-engine riffing and mellowness when Davis sings, in a voice
not unlike the Pet Shop Boys, in between the snarling. ‘Hollow Life’ is a
brilliant goth-tinged power ballady affair with melodic synths, while ‘Bottled Up
Inside’ is an inferior rehash of ‘Here To Stay’ but with a catchy chorus,
something Korn excel at. ‘Thoughtless’ starts off as creepy industrial with
electronic sounding drums but turns into a staccato Korn rocker with another great chorus.
A standout song is ‘Hating’, a heavy ballad with a burst of bone-crunching
Sabbath around 3 minutes in. The most impressive track is ‘Alone I Break’, an
acoustic-sounding, almost symphonic song with Davis’s anguished ‘I have lived the best I can, Does this
make me not a man?’ Unfortunately
there’s a downturn in quality after this; ‘Embrace’ (very Slipknotty in the
verses, with punchy riffs and Davis back to growling, redeemed only by the chorus), and
sexual antics song ‘Beat It Upright’ which is as dull and ponderous as a
dinosaur after a night on the ale. Better is ‘Wake Up Hate’, fast and heavy
industrial with Davis doing his best Manson and on the ‘No loving and no praying, All
my hate is for the taking’ bit he does a brilliant impression of a dalek.
‘I’m Hiding’ is another fairly pedestrian rocker with a tune nicked from
‘Make Believe’. Closing track ‘No One’s There’ is a fitting end
with Davis in suicide note mode, ‘How I wish that I could fly….To a place where
I can cry’ and ‘I know it's time to leave these places far behind’. This
leads straight into a funky remix of ‘Here To Stay’ which harks back to
Korn’s rap metal past, and ends with sitar. There’s no sign of Davis’s
bagpipes. So, this
album finds Korn dropping rap and being a bit more experimental, more melodic and dynamic,
and Jonathon Davis stretching his vocal capabilities. The guy obviously still has issues
and demons to exorcise but the constant darkness and angst-ridden-ness does start to
grate. There’s a lot of sampling and effects, a goth vibe and a big industrial
influence, but there’s plenty of heaviness to keep fans happy and riffage chunkier
than a lorry load of Yorkies. Not the great album that a lot of people were expecting, but
a good one. Reviewed by Sleezy
It’s hard to
say where it all went wrong for Curve. The band that was Garbage before the idea had even
started to form in Butch Vigs head could and probably should have been massive. They had
almost everything going for them, in the respect that in Toni Halliday they had an
attractive iconic singer, a couple of ground shakingly good tunes in “Fait
Accompli” and “Chinese Burn”, and techno boffin Dean Garcia in the mould of
Chris Lowe with fangs. What was a recipe for success though hasn’t turned out to
fulfil its promise. Does Gift do
anything to redress the balance? Well, let’s go so far to say, if you liked Curve in
the past, then I’m sure you’ll enjoy this just as much. Sonically it’s
nothing they haven’t done before on previous albums, and it’s almost as if the
members of the band went on holiday for a couple of years, and on returning home dusted of
their earlier work and said, “Right, where were we?” Ground breaking it
certainly isn’t. Lyrically though it seems to be Halliday’s most personal set of
songs to date, but that may be due to them being quite linear compared to her earlier more
oblique efforts. Her voice has
definitely improved both in range and inflection, and at times is emotive and almost
fragile in it’s delivery, though occasionally when she tries to lighten up her voice
she drifts into Nena from the Cardigans territory. Not necessarily bad, just not Curve! The tunes are all
drums and synth bass lines, with the occasional guitar lick dropped in over the top.
There’s hints of NIN, Machina period Pumpkins, J+M Chain, My Bloody Valentine, and
late Depeche Mode at it’s best, but that’s offset by sounding like the
soundtrack to a Playstation game at it’s worse. When things crank up, the beats and
breaks move along at a hard and heavy pace, giving rise to thoughts of
“Firestarter” and “Breathe” by The Prodigy – just with better
lyrics! It’s hard to
be objective about this album without waxing lyrical or panning it. If you liked them in
the past, you will now. If you thought it was all a bit samey and tired, then there’s
nothing here that will change your opinions, and it’s doubtful that Gift will win
them any new converts. Current single “Want More Need Less” is the stand out
track, but it’s hard to pick what the next release will be from the other nine.
I’ve said it before many times in reviews, and its no surprise I suppose to say it
again – could do better. Considering this was initially released 10 months ago in
America and received a luke-warm response there, it makes you wonder why they didn’t
go away and try something different in the interim period. Then again, who
listens to critics anyway?
It’s an apt
title. On most of the tracks you can trace the influences without employing the use of a
bloodhound. These Detroit boys have obviously been listening to their elder brothers
record collections, and have plagiarised them to at times the n-th degree. Hello Rage ATM.
Good morning Green Day. How the devil are you Faith No More? In truth though they do it in
more than adequate fashion, but you do end up wishing that they would at least try to
write something that doesn’t sound like a hundred songs you’ve heard before. There are some
nice touches hidden away, opener “The Killing Blow” is reminiscent of early
Idlewild, “Stand Up” is very 2 tone type skank-lite, and the actual admitted
cover version of REM’s “It’s the end of the world……..” is
truthfully marvellous (sorry, did I just say that?). “All My People” and
“Unbreakable” would be at home on a Dropkick Murphy’s album, and probably
go down a storm played live, “Middle Way” is The Damned’s “Love
Song” dumbed up to the max. Slap in some shouty terrace anthems that would have done
Sham 69 proud and on the whole it’s not a bad collection of tunes, though you do get
the feeling though that they could do better with a just a bit more effort in the song
writing department. Having toured
extensively with the likes of Suicidal Tendencies, No Doubt and Less than Jake (all of who
have had an influence on some of the tracks contained herein), and judging by the standard
of the material, they are probably more at home on stage than in the studio. In the end
though, they will be judged by their recorded output, and if this is their limit then they
are still going to be wanting in the sales department. This isn’t a bad album, if
fact it’s really quite good in reality, but you can’t help yourself from playing
the spot the influence game whilst listening to it. If you like any 2 of the
above-mentioned artists then I’m sure that you’ll enjoy listening to it, just be
warned though that you will frequently be saying “(insert band name here) do this so
much better though”. Reviewed by Bananas Two CDs, 45 tracks of independent, cultish music, mostly American but with a smattering of European bands. Styles range from Beefheart-funk to garage punk, industrial to country, anarcho-feminist to hi-NRG disco clone. Worth the price of admission on its own is the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ contribution. Still haven’t heard a substandard tune by them and Modern Things is one of the best things they’ve done. Angular sounds and pained vocals explode into a spiraling guitar and shouty chorus. Intense and claustrophobic, it’s the perfect urban frightmare. That’s on the ‘Streams’ CD which contains the pick of the tracks: Tender Trap are funny, feminist, sassy and cool and sing about every indie boy-virgin’s dream woman (“she thinks that Travis are boring, Le Tigre are smart”); the punky Bangs; the country-rock of Neko Case (sounding like a version of ‘That’s All Right, Mama’); rocksteady from Quasi; and the Beatle-poppy The Mooney Suzuki. CD1
(‘Fields’) is a bit more hit and miss but Comet Gain do their kitchen-sink indie
perfectly on Look at You Now, You’re Crying
which could have graced the ‘Realistes’ album.
The Rock-a–Teens’ Noon
Under theTrees is an incredibly melancholic, mournful song which is made perfect by
gorgeous xylophone(?) and percussion. Industrial
Skyline is wonderful dour Swedish nililism. Mary
Timony is soft, breathy and beguiling while The Aisler’s Set offer cool girlpop to
the New Acoustic Movement. It’s a bit
like a packet of Revels. Occasionally
you’ll get the coffee centre one and gag but most of the time you’ll be like a
chocoholic who’s broken through Willy Wonka’s back passage into his fudge store. I still don’t get Stereo Total and the Kim
Gordon/Jim O’Rourke effort is squally guitar nonsense; a bit like an inkblot, with a
lot of concentration a pattern seems to emerge but it’s not really worth the effort. But Kill Rock Stars is one of those cool labels.
who give you great stuff from bands you like and great stuff from bands you never thought
you liked till now. You wanna prove
you’ve got your finger on the pulse? You
need to listen to this. Reviewed by Ged
A typical track might be Love 1 - a huge Peter Gunn riff and off-kilter melody, accompanied by stream of consciousness lyrics that bang to a halt after 54 seconds. If you don’t like it there’ll be another song within two minutes that you’ll adore. As Anglophiles, there are lots of echoes of the Who and the Beatles (try Zap or Pretty Bombs with its lovely string arrangements) and more besides. Skin Parade begins with a wicked David Bowie impersonation and then you’re sucked in by the compelling, crushing rhythm – Laibach would love it. Or check out the military tattoo of Back to the Lake with its lovely melody and almost Yes-like organ tinkles. For humour, sample the low-fi folk of The Ids Are Alright (sic!) or Car Language with its ‘driving as sex’ metaphors (“flashing metal interaction”) and its slow-building, pounding rhythm which would sound awesome live. Best of all is the single Everywhere With Helicopter, which is a fast and adrenalised garage tune with almost folk-singer vocals. Sounds bizarre but it’s very effective. Buggered if I know what the lyrics mean but it’s perfect, melodic pop. If variety is the spice of your life, this is the perfect blend. Review by Ged
From the past tense of the verbs in the plain paper insert (dated ‘June 2002’), it seems that Hefner might not be a band any more. It’s sad if it’s true but this album shows that Darren can write heartfelt and humorous, passionate, perverse and profane pop songs. If we don’t yet know about the Hefner future, we can at least revel in the glorious past. Tracks: Painting and Kissing/ I Stole a Bride/ Love Inside the Studfarm/ Fat Kelly’s Teeth/ The Hymn for the Coffee/ God Protect Your Home/ Alan Bean/ Seafaring/ The Sad Witch/ Hello Kitten/ Eloping. Info and ordering: http://www.hefnet.com/ or http://www.toopure.com/ Review by Ged
This is billed as the ‘Hullabaloo Soundtrack’. This is not strictly true but I’ll get to that. Another 2 disc set, the first has a selection of b-sides, the second is from Le Zenith. ‘Forced In’ is a mostly instrumental acoustic track with synthesised vocals that goes pretentious and discordant at the end, ‘Yes Please’ is an uninspired heavy rocker with more irritating synthesised vocals, ‘Ashamed’ has a heavy funky feel, some jagged guitar playing and more of those bloody synthed vocals. Oi, Bellamy, no! ‘The Gallery’ is an overlong instrumental of electronica and a repetitive piano riff that sounds like something from a John Carpenter flick. But there is plenty of wheat among the chaff. ‘Shrinking Universe’ is the Muse you’d expect with high-pitched screaming and a classical-style riff in the middle, ‘Recess’ is a bit shoegazy with a dash of fairground music and a bout of guitar histrionics and ‘Map of your Head’ is an acoustic number with a jolly guitar riff that wouldn’t be out of place in Tales from the Riverbank, though the lyrics are about people who have grown ‘purposeless and empty’ and waking up ‘all alone wearing just socks and a phone’. ‘Nature_1’ is an acoustic rocker, while ‘Shine Acoustic’ is a ballad of reminiscence with another fairground tune and watery sound effects. There’s also a slowed-down version of ‘Hyper Music’ called Hyper Chrondriac Music’ which has some John Barry touches in the keyboard department. The live CD is a bit of a con. Alright, it’s a huge con. Bearing in mind CDs can have a playing time up to 80 minutes, this one clocks in at 51. The live DVD is 90 minutes. Do the math. So what gets binned for the CD version? Well how about ‘Uno’, ‘Feeling Good’, ‘Cave’ and ‘Unintended’ for starters. But a Muse live CD wouldn’t be complete without ‘Sunburn’, ‘New Born’, ‘Bliss’ and ‘Plug in Baby’ would it? Well it would in this case. Ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated? It’s still a good disc and features ‘Darkshines’ which isn’t on the DVD, but leaving off classics and all of last year’s singles is unforgivable. Review by Sleazy Fuck me. What the hell was that? That’s what they must have been asking in 1984 when they first heard “Upside Down”. 3 minutes of heavy reverb (are they at the back of the hall?), high treble (is there a bass control anywhere in this studio?), feedback (don’t stand so close to the amp kid, doh!) and distortion (it’s the only pedal that works) with a moaning melody (I’m bored/pissed/asleep). Brilliant. Fucking hell, they then only play it again but even better on the classic “Never Understand”. Phew, you can understand why people wanted to copy the sound (and still want to...on yer bike). No fuss, all buzz, dark and moody, JAMC spat onto the ‘scene’ like the Velvets bashing against Spector’s wall of sound with sonic buzzsaws and a disdain for musical sensibility. But in fact JAMC are, if anything, classic rocknroll songsters. All that sonic terrorism stuff was an attempt to reclaim the corpse of rocknroll from the gibbet of mediocrity and woolworth pop. Sure it may be submerged but it’s there. And it sounds fun. This collection is just brilliant, like the sun reflecting off broken glass on the pavement. Upside Down and Never Understand still manage to sound like a challenge to the music around us. Utterly compelling and fantastic. The feedback gets reined in by the time of Just Like Honey and the very Velvet Some Candy Talking which allows you to hear the innate (ok, some may say inane) sense for hooks the Reid brothers had. Why argue when April Skies and Happy When It Rains (sue Garbage I say!) are evidence to an ability to write classic rock/pop songs, no matter how they are dressed up. Sidewalking was, at the time, a revelation and a departure of sorts - with a pounding pedestrian drum machine underpinning Jim's weary vocal. Drum machines and rock? Surely some mistake! You don’t think so now, but then it was different. [Let's gloss over the Cocteau Twins shall we? ]. Head On (one of the Pixies poorer efforts I thought: this is inimitable) is just sublime. After a hiatus the Reid’s bounced back with the blistering Reverence, where dance rhythm meets howling feedback and breaks, and don't forget the criminally ignored Far Gone and Out. Inevitably, or surprisingly, things mellow out with Sometimes Always (wake up Ms Sandoval, you're singing woman!) and Come On. And we began to think where JAMC would go next. Perhaps they thought the same, ‘cos the diachotomy of William’s ihaterockandroll and Jim’s iloverockandroll indicates the band were, as the penultimate single said, Cracking Up. OK this was a band beginning to sound like it was writing by numbers. Perhaps they felt the same. They split. No claims to radical development in 21 singles over 14 years but, hell, it’s relative. And maybe not all the singles are classics, but there’s a high hit rate and not much room for complaint. Oh sod it, it’s an essential purchase. And Upside Down still sounds like a howl for something better. Something better than the Strokes, Vines, Coral, BRMC…..at least. Reviewed by Kev |
Artists: Velvet Underground / Sonics / Seeds / 13th Floor Elevators / New York Dolls / Iggy and the Stooges / Electric Eels / Suicide / Pere Ubu / Richard Hell and the Voidoids / Television / Wayne County & the Electric Chairs / Blondie / Dead Kennedys / Dead Boys / Ramones / Johnny Thunders & the Heartbreakers / Jonathan Richman & the Modern Lovers. “Here we go now…another punk sociology lecture, with a bit of biography, and bit of history…Another punk anthology”. The concept: The music that kick started punk, and the punk that started to kick. From the Velvet Underground (yep, “I’m waiting for the man” gets another outing) to, er, the Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers’ ‘must be included on any punk album’ “Roadrunner”. The music: A motley collection it has to be said. None of it too surprising (guess what the Dead Kennedys track is). Though I scratch my head at the inclusion of bored run throughs of “Louie Louie” by The Sonics and “I had too much to dream last night” by Wayne Country et al. If you like Television you might treasure the live CBGBs version of “Friction” but Tom Verlaine still sounds like a man trying shit an oversized triple ripple butt plug to me. I’m guessing. But if I had such a plug I’d know where I’d put it once he starts one of those guitar soloes. You get an original demo of “Judy is a Punk” by The Ramones and the original mix of “Sonic Reducer” by the Dead Boys. Interesting, I suppose. But why the stiff Stiff version of “Blank Generation” by Richard Hell et al when the Sire version is far superior? Elsewhere we get the 13 Floor Elevators overlong rambling “Slip Inside This House” – I assume this is here for the benefit of those who know the Primal Scream version. They’re worlds apart. But it’s nice to hear the Electric Eels “Agitated” which is still rowdy after all the intervening years. And I can see that Suicide influenced the early Cabaret Voltaire - but no one else, clearly - with the somnambulant “Speed Queen”. Actually I like it. The verdict: It’s OK. You can’t go wrong with classic stuff like Pere Ubu’s “Heart of Darkness” really but some odd, not entirely satisfactory, choice of tracks here. Oh yes, as its US Punk there's no chuffing Undertones. Hurrah! Reviewed
by Kev Where their debut
B.A.S.I.C. sounded at times like it had been thrown together in a rush, a great deal more
effort has gone into the production of White Noise. At times heavily disco-funk the drum
patterns remind you of times when big afros and shakin’ yo booty were par for the
course. Nothing mould breaking there, but in truth there are people who do it better. The
songs build up and you sit on the edge of you seat waiting for the big pay-off, but
frustratingly they don’t seem to come along. For a lesson in bringing an audience to
a peak they should look to Faithless for guidance, though this may be a genuine attempt to
be different and to avoid being accused of being formulaic. It’s not a
complete disaster though (far be it bad by any means), but the highlights in my opinion
are when they shed the 120 BPM shackles, and slow down the tempo. Brotherhood, Lovecraft
and Crystalnight show true hidden talents and the bravery to do a techno-ballad which is
as good as Depeche Mode at their most insular. Snow Patrol Part 2 absolutely knocks the
socks of the Part 1 version (their previous single), and makes you wonder why they chose
not to release the arguably less commercial, but better version. Chin stroking on standby
for their motives there. They do let the
dance flow though on current single Carbon Kid (cunningly vocalled by the leather clad
rock pervert Mr. Brian Moloko himself), in which they reach heights of techno weirdness
akin to Aisha by Death in Vegas. It’s a fine 6 minutes of music that will return them
a top 10 single, and ultimately follow up album sales. This album is
un-offensive, and never seems to drone on like most dance music does after about 20
minutes of playing, but ultimately doesn’t have (to coin a phrase) “enough
bangers” to cause involuntary dancing to occur. Destined to be consigned to the easy
listening section in most CD collections, it’s still a darned sight better than
anything the human commercial Moby has in his back catalogue. Reviewed by Bananas
Reviewed by SPT Following
on from last year’s brilliant ‘When We Were Trees’, this is a mini album of
West Coast country tinged psychedelia. Though
it has banjos, pedal steel and glockenspiel, it’s also very modern sounding –
the title suggests the mix of traditional and futuristic that is represented on the album. If there’s a theme, it’s around
exploration of the Americas – Galapagos, Columbus, Ponce De Leon (discover of
Florida, fact fans) and references to gold on Drinkswater – and the sense of
loss you feel when you find what you’ve been looking for. But it’s easier to define mood that to
interpret lyrics and there’s a unifying mood on the album, languid and atmospheric,
apart from the bouncier Velvet Underground closing track Ghostdance 1492. Check out the weirdly organic Hibernation
with its appropriately soporific textures and strange natural-sounding external sounds. Two tracks are 7 minutes long: Drinkswater
is very country and western-sounding with a long Neil Young riff which repeats and mutates
into crashing waves of organ and electronica before fading, while Ponce de Leon Blues
starts quietly and develops into a repetitive motif and the sweetest chorus on the album. Galapagos is largely minimal, just vocals,
banjo picking and bass with the sound of waves on a beach to close. Comparisons?
Maybe the Neil Young soundtrack to ‘Dead Man’ or Mercury Rev
before they got so college-radio friendly (the voice is MV-reminiscent) but it’s
really in a class of its own. Not the best
album to discover The Beachwood Sparks but a great place to further your exploration. Reviewed by Ged Mucky arsed Kiwi primal screamers the D4 are one of the better garage punk bands on the circuit and this, their debut album, has just received a UK release after a fair few months of steadily increasing importation. It’s all pretty raw with basic production and is intended that way in order to capture the intense live sweaty head bobbing feel. It opens with the triplet onslaught of ‘Rocknroll Motherfucker’, ‘Party’ and ‘Come On!’, three terrific blistering hard-edged MC5 style rock n roll stompers, Indeed fans of the MC5 will find much to appreciate on this album, and in Jimmy Christmas they have a more than able frontman, vocally pouting and sneering his way through the numbers. ‘Pirate Love’ is an old Johnny Thunders song and its reproduction is fairly faithful glam rock. There then follows a few more MC5-esq bluesy rockers before, just as the album’s beginning to risk bordering on cliché with its tales of machismo, fast cars and drugs, it switches style. Two are slower, ‘Rebekah’ an excuse for a wigout and ‘Heartbreaker’ which borrows the bassline from ‘A Forest’ by the Cure before slipping into something reminiscent of ‘Gut Feeling’ by Devo and ‘House of the Rising Sun’ by the Animals. And slipped between those two is another cover, ‘Misterex’, originally by the Scavengers, which sounds almost identical to the Buzzcocks. I suspect these tracks were put to the end of the album for a purpose but personally I’d like to have seen them split up and plonked randomly earlier on to dilute the testosterone fuelled riffs. However, a small quibble for what is actually a very good effort and whilst the price is fairly cheap, a worthy purchase too. Reviewed by mawders
50 tracks, over two and a half hours, of Australian punky, rocky, guitar-nuked rock ‘n’ roll. In the days before globalisation and the internet, corners of the world developed their own individual scenes: for example, South American psychedelia, pappy Europop and this strain of madcap Aussie rock and roll (whereas these days they just feed the world on global garbage). As the first CD here demonstrates, the bands were inspired by a love of US outsider rock - the Stooges, MC5 and the New York Dolls - but they had their own down-under perspective. And because this scene was developing in Australia, like the kangaroo it ended up looking like no other animal in the world. CD1 features two of the great Australian bands, The Saints and Radio Birdman, the guv’nors of the music represented here. (I’m) Stranded by The Saints becomes, with time, ever more the greatest single from ’76-77. Who remembers that when the Sex Pistols made that famous TOTP appearance playing ‘Holidays In The Sun’, the Saints were on the same show performing even better on ‘This Perfect Day’? In the punk wars, only jingoistic pride prevents us from acknowledging a defeat by our convict cousins. Radio Birdman were damn fine too, with maniac chords, obsessive US-influenced music and snarly vocals. With a few deflections (Johnny Kannis’ King of the Surf and the Blondie-isms of The Passengers), this is foot to the floor rock ‘n’ roll. What this compilation does so well is to trace the roots of this sound back to individual cities and follow the prime movers as they cross-pollinated other bands. Highlights on this first CD include The Celibate Rifles and the primitive, meaty garage rock of Le Hoodoo Gurus (later just The Hoodoo Gurus) who emerged to be perhaps the best Aussie band of the early 80s and the band who coulda bin contenders. Fans of the Seattle Sub-Pop sound, the current Detroit scene (Dirtbombs etc) or of the Mooney Suzuki, The D4 and The Datsuns - to name but three of the groups reaffirming our faith in the enervating power of primal rock ‘n’ roll - will find much here to delight them. CD2 has a greater variety of styles. There’s swamp-rock in tracks like the New Christs’ Like A Curse while the Scientists’ Swampland is a big and beaty Cramps. Igloo by the Screaming Tribemen is pretty Gothic and the pop-psych theme is taken up by the Stems and the Psychotic Turnbuckles (huge fuzztone guitar prominent). The Eastern Dark pay homage to The Ramones and they are definitely worthy. The fast and frantic Lime Spiders play a poppy style thrash and a highlight of the CD is their knee-skinning Out of Control while Slave Girl is primitive, garage-y, raw and compelling. The Died Pretty show a Velvets and Suicide influence in the hypnotic Mirror Blues Pt 1. One of the great things about the package is the attention to detail that has gone into the compilation and the accompanying booklet. It contains a great David Laing essay about Aussie garage rock and detailed profiles and rare pix about every band in a sort of prose Pete Frame family tree (the contemporary Kiwi scene deserves equal treatment too!). This is a great album and the engineers have ensured that the tracks sound as fresh as when first released. Fans of the Oz scene will marvel at the quality of the collection; modern day rock fiends will marvel at a new source to feed their habit and everyone else can just marvel at how something recorded at least 15 years ago had the freshness, brio and balls to wipe the floor with half the tossers currently making music. Perhaps this is the new Nuggets of our generation? Whatever, it’s an essential purchase. Reviewed by Ged The Mooney Suzuki are from New York City but have that Detroit sound down
pat, no doubt assisted by Jim Diamond who recorded this in Detroit. The album lives up to its title: the band sing
like they drip blues riffs and hawk up guitar solos.
The title track is storming MC5 noisy rock, along with Woke Up This Mornin’
and In A Young Man’s Mind. The
latter reveals that, in keeping with tradition, lyrics are way down the priority list when
making thumping great rock records: “in a young man’s mind it’s a simple
world, there’s a little room for music and the rest is girls”. No room for cheap cider and smoking Silk Cut
nicked from your mum’s purse then? The
musicians listed in the song - “Pete Townsend, Jimmy Page and Hendrix too” -
give you a strong clue about The Mooney Suzuki’s heroes. Variation kicks in early with the single Oh
Sweet Susanna. It plays like a ballady
Thin Lizzy number, full of melody and a lazy, chugging groove, a perfect summer song
despite the downbeat theme. A Little Bit
of Love is mid-60s garage band playing the Yardbirds: simple, direct and with some
great fuzztone guitar and hellish hooks. It’s
Showtime Part II shows yet another side of the band.
It’s the sort of showcase that a band like the Famous Flames might perform
while James Brown nips offstage to powder his nose mid-set.
The result is an outstanding soulful and skilful instrumental. It’s matched by the R‘n’B lament of
The Broken Heart, a real James Carr “Dark End of the Street” type piece. They wind up with another MC5 type rocker, guitars
to the max, of Electrocuted Blues. On
first hearing, it’s tempting to dismiss the album as one-paced or beholden to the
past. Neither is true. Every listen brings out something new and the
spirit in which it’s played puts it far above plagiarism or pastiche. Make them your new favourite band tomorrow. Reviewed by Ged With our
finger ever on the pulse of modern music here’s a review of an album that came out in
Blighty last year. But, it’s just been released in the US, so that’s my
excuse for reviewing it late; the edification of our American reader (hi Elmer). Add to
that the forthcoming tour and the re-release of this as a double album in July.
(D’you think we got away with that one, ed?) My Vitriol
go in for plenty of harmonies, melodies and big tunes, which owe far more to US bands like
Nirvana (singer Som Wardner often sounds like Kurt Cobain), Foo Fighters, Smashing
Pumpkins etc than home-grown indie types like Idlewild, Ash and Feeder. Allow to boil, add
plenty of sensitive and heartfelt vocals, a good dose of nu-metal, some emo, a sprinkle of
shoegazing, and then cover in glossy production from Chris Sheldon. White
noise album opener is instrumental ‘Alpha Waves’ which segues straight into the
blistering guitar rock of ‘Always: Your Way’. I might be going out on a limb
here, but there’s something of Rush in the mix once they stopped writing epics and
started writing songs, with some Alex Lifeson-like shimmering guitar playing. ‘The
Gentle Art of Choking’ sounds for a few seconds like Idlewild’s ‘A Film for
the Future’ before turning into another slab of melodic heaviness. Next up is
contemplative instrumental ‘Kohlstream’ which leads into ‘Cemented
Shoes’, an uptempo rocker sounding like a cross between later Rush and Nirvana, that
explodes into some manic fretwork before the surprisingly quiet outro. By now the pattern
has pretty much been set for the rest of the album so it was a surprise after the bright
metal-pop of ‘Grounded’ to find MV donning their clown and pig masks for
‘C.O.R. (Critic Oriented Rock)’, a brief ultra-heavy instrumental with
cod-Slipknot screaming. After that
it’s business as usual. ‘Infantile’ with it’s whispered vocals and
repetitiveness didn’t grab me, and ‘Tongue Tied’ is another, longer
instrumental, which veers between the calm and the headlong frenzied guitar attack, with a
hook that sounds like it was lifted from ‘Always: Your Way’. Pace slows with
‘Windows and Walls’ and ‘Taprobane’, yet another instrumental, before
‘Losing Touch’ takes us back into the heavy zone. ‘Pieces’ has a
shoegazy feel and ‘Falling off the Floor’ is an epic with more of that shimmery
guitar and a touch of psychedelia, and would have made a brilliant closing song. Instead
the album ends with a whimper rather than a bang with the shoegazy/dreampoppy ‘Under
the Wheels’. Not that there’s anything wrong it but the previous song would have
made for a dramatic, breathtaking finish. At first
the inclusion of 16 tracks may seem overly generous but I don’t think My Vitriol do
themselves a favour as the tracks do start to sound samey. That said, as a debut it’s
pretty phenomenal and at least on a par with The Cooper Temple Clause’s ‘See
Through this and Leave’. Catch them on tour soon. Reviewed by Sleezy |
This six track mini-album from Finnish five-piece, All Stars, is a beast of two halves (and it's probably the pushmepullyou). There are snappy poppy tunes that just beg you to be friends with them and then there are sniffy indie tracks that couldn't care less about you. Ridiculously strong pop melodies in the likes of the happiness of being alone and blue star eyes are guaranteed to get you toe tapping and humming along in quick time - these are loaded with more cheesy hooks than the cloakroom at a parmesan factory. But as things progress melody gets replaced by familiar indie gtr wristwrangling - helsinki damnation [parts] (a) destruction (b) welcome home, for example, meanders about indifferently. Reviewed by Kev |
Blackened Sky is the debut album from this Scottish 3 piece, and it never fails to please. Throughout the album, their musical influences shine through as they mix together various aspects of bands such as the Pixies and Nirvana, and create a great sound with carefully picked guitar riffs, mixed with out and out rock/metal. The album contains the perfect mix of indie, emo, and metal, and it is a joy to listen to the way in which this band can switch from one to the other so well. The album is packed full of amazingly powerful tracks such as Stress on the sky and joy.discovery.invention but also features some of the most moving indie tunes you will ever hear, in the form of songs such as Scary Mary and Hero management. Biffy Clyro's singer/songwriter Simon Neil seems to have a wonderful knack of combining beautiful melodies with heavy driving guitar chords, which run along side each other so well. From the emotional and ingenuitive lyrics on Christopher's river, to the suprising screams of kill the old, torture their young it is clear that there is some real songwriting talent behind this band. The vocal duties are shared between all 3 band members, although they all sound very similar with two of the band members being twins. The constantly shifting time-signatures also make this album intriguing to listen to, and keep you hooked throughout the album, and make it one which you can listen to time and time again. This album is an astounding piece of mastery from such a young new band. Considering this is only their debut, I'm sure we can go onto enjoy some amazing music from this band in the future as their songwriting talents mature further. Biffy Clyro have succeeded where bands like My Vitriol failed slightly, and I think this band is a very exciting prospect for the future. With its wonderful mix of genres, this is an album anyone can listen to and enjoy, and album which should definitely be explored by any emo/indie/emocore lovers. I look forward to seeing this band's live capabilities, and they can be found at Reading this year on the the Carling stage. Reviewed by Jack Follow up to last year’s fantastically titled debut ‘I Oughtta Give You A Shot In The Head for Making Me Live in This Dump’, this is more wonderfully crafted lyrical and musical downbeat stuff from Shivaree. For my money (IOUs will have to do for now) this is even better. Have you ever gone to sleep with the radio on low that has somehow manipulated your dreams? Er, well. Just pretend, OK, that a night time show Rough Dreams is presented by a sleepy sultry voiced DJ, lulling you off to sleep. She begins playing the brief Wagers: a haunted house organ, shuffling beat and a transistor radio vocal which conjures up a picture of a faded dance hall. It sounds unsettling, but in a comfortable sort of way. You continue to sleep…through to the closing Flycatcher, all broken rhythm and limping melody, which includes a mock Tom Waits delivery which is either shameless or inspired. You wake up, scratch your head and wonder…what was that? You remember…a general feeling of drunken waltz time…but also a semi-electronic rock tune called Thundercats, the classic Tamla slow soulful melody and harmonies of After the Prince, the slow country feel of Stealing Home. A single too, with a warped tango, called John 2:14 that comes close to the perfect melody of last year’s wonderful Goodnight Moon. Ah. You can’t wait for the night to come again so you can hear it once more. But what sort of music is it – with its array of strings, organs, wind instruments, wayward beat-boxes and electronic effects. Hard to say. What really lifts it all is gorgeously sultry melancholic vocal, and languorous delivery, of singer Ambrosia Parsley (well, that’s what it says here). A perfect singing voice that rise and falls, teasing and dropping melodies throughout, it is an impressive performance. There is something a bit special here but generally it is very palatable fare, almost skirting (or flirting) with MOR with its cleverly crafted music, and can feel somehow insubstantial afterwards. Like a dream. Maybe this is not a rough dream but you might wake up with your hair and thoughts slightly mussed, with a little smile on your lips. Are you sleeping comfortably? For more information go to www.hollywoodandvine.com/shivaree. Reviewed by Kev There’s been a Blisscent mailing
list around on Yahoo for a couple of years. This
is their first compilation album and pretty good it is too; a blend of indie, dreampop and
lots of shoegazing. Soundwise think of My Bloody Valentine, Ride, Slowdive, Verve, Dandy
Warhols, touches of Doves etc. There are plenty of songs
with fuzzy guitars and half asleep vocals (Asobi Seksu with MBV-ish ‘The words live
longer’ and the dreary, and worst, track ‘Leap of faith’ from Sunstorm),
the U2 inspired Francis 7 with ‘Splitting in two’ (alas not the ATV classic),
and a couple of up tempo rockers from Alcian Blue (‘Channel’) and Twigs
(‘Trouble me too’). Sandwiched between this lot is some excellent dreampop from
female-voiced Au Revoir Borealis, Collette Carter and Lovespirals. Another standout track
is ‘Space in your mind’, a 7 minute slice of ambient, spacy rock from German
group Malory. Reviewed by Sleezy Much of this
sounds sort of folky, with plenty of gentle English whimsy, a touch reminiscent of Nick
Drake (similar territory to Ant’s recent effort) or even a male Sade (on Tug). Although there’s a band, it sounds like
traditional singer/songwriter territory, with proper, sensitive singing! It’s quiet and well observed, mournful and
moody and often largely acoustic. The doomy
lyrics of BBQ on a Tin Roof are helpfully offset by the sprightly arrangements
whereas the more doomy Death by Thursdays is a little too depressing. Another lament, Bottleneck, featuring piano
and synths, sounds a little like Erik Satie. The
album is better produced than the cover, which looks a bit like Hugh
Fearnley-Whittingstall on magic mushrooms, suggests.
Although overall the mood is a little one-dimensional, the album has some strong
points – especially the singing - and, no bullshit, it reminds me of the sort of
English music that Andy Kershaw used to be very keen on when he was still at Radio 1. The album is available from them at their gigs or
website. Further info: www.sugardrum.co.uk Reviewed by Ged |
|
I wasn't really "into" electronica when the Hartnoll brothers released Chime. Back at college, the trend was for all things jangly and shoegazing, so this fourteen-track retrospective seemed like a great opportunity to catch up on all the essential output of one of electronica's most enduring outfits. These guys were there at the start, when it all kicked off, in the acid-soaked heyday of the M25 rave scene. While I was propping up the bar at the union, drinking snakebite and black. And listening to Ride. Hmm. It's Chime which sets the tone of this fine collection of tracks - that metallic, Morse-code intro, layering up into the unmistakeable solid, metronomic Orbital beat. They always played this at student bops, just before Love Cats. It's a perfect example of Orbital's style, and while many accuse the brothers of not moving things forward all that much in the intervening 12 years, their fans rightly point out that within their own well-defined parameters, they're avid experimenters. One of the specimens from the back of the lab is the third track, Illuminate. Fans of David Gray (and they do exist, Lord preserve us) will be delighted by its inclusion, and despite the gravelly-voiced crooner's best efforts it's one of the more intriguing tracks from recent album The Altogether. The irony of this track being followed immediately by the guitar-thrash of Satan Spawn will not be lost on Gray's detractors. A criticism of the album levelled by the hardcore Orbitistas has been that many of the tracks on Work are 7" versions, and that the expansive glory of some of the tracks in their album form has been lost. The short version of floor-filler Nothing Left barely gives time for the E's to kick in, and will leave the dance floor addicts gasping for more. Shaving a minute off Funny Break seems a crime for such a stunning piece of summery, optimistic techno. That's the price you pay for condensing such an enduring career into a single CD - although mercifully, the beautifully chilled Belfast that rounds off the album is left unmolested. Orbital play Somerset House in London on July 21st and 22nd, an event which promises to be a treat for lifelong ravers and neophytes alike. I've got the glow-sticks on order, and I'll be there, re-living the youth I could have had. And you can stick your Kitchens of Distinction up your arse ... Reviewed by TL |
"Little By Little, We Gave You Everything You Ever Dreamed
Of" And they did. Just thinking back to the early days of Oasis makes my spine
tingle. Those extraordinary shows at the Astoria to celebrate a chart busting 1994, the
joy of "Some Might Say" getting to Number 1, the era defining performance at
Maine Road. Oasis meant something, they gave people hope, the idea to believe in good old
fashioned, exciting, balls out rock 'n' roll. Everything we ever dreamed of. Of course, it
all went wrong the minute they stepped out in front of too many people at Knebworth, and
then made one of the most gloriously bloated records in living memory in "Be Here
Now". They lost their relevance, their energy, their power to astound and amaze even
the harshest critic. 
Even Darren admits this is a
curiosity. A mail order only mid-price live album of 11 tracks dating from 1996 to
2001, compiled by Jack Hayter because they’re interesting or seldom heard
songs. Most were recorded off the mixing desk so the sound is very clear. One
thing this brings out is the quality of the musicianship, especially Jack’s.
Inside that homemade, homespun, low-fi indieness, there’s a very good band waiting to
be more generally noticed. If you love Hefner (as we do) this is an odd but
essential complement to the albums. If not, this album won’t convert you (but
others might – try ‘We Love the City’ as a starter). 
Where did they get that title from? Still, it’s more original than
‘Muse Live’. So what is all the hullabaloo about? For those not in the know the
Teignmouth trio play a blend of goth/grunge/space/heavy rock. They’re led by
falsetto-voiced songwriter and guitar god Matthew Bellamy, a cross between a Sid Vicious
clone, Edward Scissorhands and a human scarecrow. Pretentious? Sure. Indulgent? Yep. OTT?
You bet.