An Album Every (Other) Day

#24: Friendly Fires - Friendly Fires (2008)

2008-10-06T21:15:00.003+01:00

Jump In The Pool
In The Hospital
Paris
White Diamonds
Strobe
On Board
Lovesick
Skeleton Boy
Photobooth
Ex Lover

My first encounter with Friendly Fires was oddly incongruous - their appearance as support band at Interpol's long-delayed Newcastle show last year was easy to overlook given the pent-up anticipation reserved for the headliners. But, upon re-visiting the band after the show, I could feel that they weren't ones to be ignored. And so we come to this, their self-titled debut, which effortlessly continues this year's record of good indie-dance albums.

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Let's get this out of the way first - Friendly Fires are unashamedly pop. Not in a manufactured, vomit-inducing, chart-humping-schtick sort of way, but in the fact that they want their music to be heard and liked by everyone. How to achieve this goal is the only question on their minds, and they've come up with a pretty good answer in leading track 'Jump In The Pool' - an irresistible intro to the band's style that combines an infectious groove with breathily emotional sensibilities, resulting in something simple but oh-so damn effective.

It's a line of thinking that informs the album throughout. 'Lovesick' aims for 'anthemic floor filler' status from the off, cementing it with a soaring chorus line, and 'Skeleton Boy' is equally masterful - when vocalist Ed Macfarlane sings "Let's face this night and see it through," it's a real fist-in-the-air moment. Even the almost comical cowbell-based bounce of 'White Diamonds' is transformed into a slick, heavy funk by the time the song reaches its edgy chorus.

Elsewhere, the band add to the majestic yearning of previous single 'Paris' in the only way possible - by roping in Au Revoir Simone to add some sweetly breathy female vocals to the song's already skyscraper-sized chorus. The tracks from previous EPs that made it onto the album are equally impressive, from the tense buildup of 'On Board's Hot-Chip-meets-The-Rapture disco-punk to the cocksure, jerky riffs of 'Photobooth'.

Even the lower-key moments maintain their lustre by applying the same formula that's gone before. 'Strobe's minimal, shoegazey synths and the downbeat bass groove of 'In The Hospital' both house choruses that pack a mighty emotional punch. However, the biggest heart-wrencher is saved until last: 'Ex Lover' sees a sinister, reverberating guitar line laced with darkly emotional lyrics concerning the death of a loved one - and yet, even this song has an oddly uplifting feel to it.

Friendly Fires is an album comprised of great songs, but its true brilliance is that it somehow manages to sum up to more than its already impressive parts. The band's debut album, therefore, is an understated triumph. It's the kind of record that stealthily creeps into your consciousness: Instantly replayable, it's only when you take a step back that you realise that an album you merely thought was 'quite good' is in fact blessed with a touch of genius. Friendly Fires have made one of this year's most effortlessly listenable albums - all you have to do is jump in.

#23: Late Of The Pier - Fantasy Black Channel (2008)

2008-10-03T02:10:00.003+01:00

Hot Tent Blues
Broken
Space And The Woods
The Bears Are Coming
Random Firl
Heartbeat
Whitesnake
VW
Focker
The Enemy Are The Future
Mad Dogs And Englishmen
Bathroom Gurgle

It's back! But for how long? Nobody knows...

Anyway, here's another potential 'Album Of The Year' nominee. Relax, JoFo and Los Camp haters, it's not another high-energy shouty band - it's Castle Donington electro scamps Late Of The Pier. Ok, so I lied about the high-energy bit. The Enemy aren't the future: These guys are.

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Journalists and music fans alike place bands into pigeonholes, and some were quick to dismiss Late Of The Pier as being a little bit late to jump on the Klaxons bandwagon. They should think again, however as this is not a 'nu-rave' album - that should become abundantly clear within about two seconds of opening track 'Hot Tent Blues'. The opening fanfare of bombastic guitars quickly cedes to 'Broken's bewildering mix of crisscrossing synths and guitars. Mix these with bleary-eyed lyrics about insomnia and a deliberately over-dramatic chorus delivery, and you're somewhere close to an indication of the world Late Of The Pier inhabit. Fasten your seatbelts, we're in for a chaotic ride.

'Space And The Woods' sees the band tipping their caps to Gary Numan as they create a jerky, confident dancefloor stomper: "I'm shit hot, so say what you think about me!" challenges frontman Sam Eastgate, but with tunes like this you daren't say a word. The band then tumble headlong further into insanity, with 'The Bears Are Coming' being a quirky, infectious oddity that combines fenceposts and teacups being used as percussion with burping synths and the soundtrack to Mario Bros. The next two tracks only serve to continue the madness. 'Random Firl' has the band gazing off into space, with twinkly keyboards and a dreamy, starry-eyed coda of "Behind the clouds, it's lovely," while 'Heartbeat' sees them go stratospheric with some very space-age synths and the soaring guitar line of the chorus. And to think that 'Random Firl' was in danger of being removed from the album for being "too normal"...

One of the best things about Late Of The Pier is whenever you think the band might be getting too serious, there's an injection of humour to counteract it. The pompous, almost metal-esque guitar soloing of 'VW' is quickly defused by a shout of "CABBAGE!", while the vocal histronics and ear-bleeding synths of 'Focker' give way to a guitar solo that's played on a sampler of all things. But the band's oddest moment by far is 'The Enemy Are The Future', a six-minute epic that starts as what appears to be a comical piss-take of the titular band (the title apparently came from one of The Enemy's flyers), before seamlessly morphing into a slick floor-filling funk that even throws Crystal Castles bleepy noises and a bongo solo into the mix. Utter madness, but it's indicative of the sheer creativity on display here.

By comparison 'Mad Dogs And Englishmen' might seem a little bit ordinary, but in reality it's still an intense and infectious three minutes that provides a brilliant setup for the jewel in Late Of The Pier's crown. I'm talking, of course, about 'Bathroom Gurgle', a song that is simply sublime. From the squelchy bass riff to the infectious vocal hooks, from the eerie synths to the perfectly placed tempo changes, it's one of the best songs that you'll hear on any album released this year, and rounds off what has been a fantastic journey through the minds of one of the most creative bands out there right now.

In terms of pushing the envelope and creating interesting music, Late Of The Pier stand out as being way ahead of the pack. From the sublime to the ridiculous and then back again, Fantasy Black Channel is a masterful thrill ride that leaves you wanting more. Whatever these guys come up with next, you can be sure that it'll be something that's as far from mundane as is humanly possible.

#22: Mark Ronson - Version (2007)

2008-07-31T13:00:00.004+01:00

God Put A Smile Upon Your Face (Coldplay)
Oh My God (Kaiser Chiefs)
Stop Me (The Smiths)
Toxic (Britney Spears)
Valerie (The Zutons)
Apply Some Pressure (Maxïmo Park)
Inversion
Pretty Green (The Jam)
Just (Radiohead)
AMY (Ryan Adams)
The Only One I Know (The Charlatans)
Diversion
L.S.F. (Kasabian)
Outversion

(Note: All songs except tracks 7, 12 and 14 are cover versions: Original artists in brackets.)

STOP ME, OH OH OH STOP ME: STOP ME IF YOU THINK THAT YOU'VE HEARD THIS ONE BEFORE.

Honestly, I never thought I'd review this album in a million years: This is one of those that I just started writing in my head and then felt the need to get out of bed and commit it to the internet. Turn back now, Ronson fans...

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Producer du jour Mark Ronson has a lot to answer for in many people's minds, and I'd count myself among them. An album of covers is a little fishy to begin with, and the swathe of guest vocalists only adds to the suspicion. "But he was working with Lily Allen and Santogold before they were cool, and Amy Winehouse before she was a total fuckup!" I hear you cry. "So what?" would be my response: Regardless of when and where its celebrity collaborations came about, an album lives and dies on its songs, or in this case, what it does to other people's.

Some tracks sound fine initially but don't hold up so well after you've listened to them for a while: Taking Coldplay's 'God Put A Smile Upon Your Face' and rearranging it for a brass band is admittedly charming at first, but grows less so with repeated listens. Similarly, the now infamous Amy Winehouse-featuring cover of The Zutons' 'Valerie' gave the plodding, overplayed original a much-needed kick up the arse, but would eventually suffer the same fate as its source material, with overexposure breeding contempt.

On the other hand, some of Version's covers are almost offensive in their pointlessness, seemingly based on half-baked ideas: "I know, let's take Radiohead's 'Just', replace some of the guitars with horns and add some 'soulful' crooning to it!" or even worse "Let's take Maxïmo Park's 'Apply Some Pressure' and turn it into an aimless piece of lounge jazz!" Ronson mercilessly strips these songs of every last ounce of impact they have, leaving them bland and lifeless - clearly the Radiohead cover only happened because EMI likes money, and what Paul Smith was thinking allowing his name to feature on the back of the album sleeve I'll never know. Kasabian suffer a similar ignominy later on in the record, and while 'L.S.F.' at least manages to maintain a sense of pace by leaving Tom Meighan's vocal largely untouched, it still feels tempered slightly, reaching for the anthemic status of the original only to end up falling short.

The album is rife with such terrible decisions - 'Toxic' doesn't, and never needed to be twice as long as it was, especially when the lengthening of the song is achieved by playing the song at half speed and adding superfluous rap sections - it makes the song feel like it's on tranquillisers. Equally criminal is Ronson's treatment of 'AMY', which takes the affecting simplicity of Ryan Adams' original and turns it into something that can only be described as 'generic'.

Sometimes the album comes up with a semi-interesting idea that falls flat in its execution: 'The Only One I Know' sees Robbie Williams attempting his best Tim Burgess impression, but the cover as a whole fails to add anything more than the slightest injection of pace to the song. Elsewhere, the Santogold-featuring 'Pretty Green' takes the raw energy of The Jam's original and bizarrely transforms it into some sort of Caribbean playground chant, which doesn't quite work.

The three original tracks don't really add much to the record either, merely providing some brief filler as a respite from the other atrocities on offer, as well as possibly serving as handy instrumental beds for DJs all over the country. Even these sound slightly derivative though - in particular, 'Diversion' somewhat reminds me of Bill Wither's 'Lovely Day'.

It's not all horrible, and the album does actually feature a couple of tracks that do what a good cover should - actually add something to the original, or at least provide a different take on it. Lily Allen's southern sass on 'Oh My God' provides a worthwhile counterpoint to Ricky Wilson's original northern wit, but the album's greatest triumph (well, relatively speaking) is Ronson's take on 'Stop Me': While it had fans of The Smiths sharpening their knives, it provided a decent alternative take on the moody pace of the original, turning it into a dark and echoy slice of soul. (The silver lining for Smiths fans is that it soon became 100% more credible to play the original when DJing.)

As a whole though, Version comes off as a limp effort, with the covers it offers being at best watered down and at worst mercilessly butchered in cold blood. But the true tragedy of this album is that, because of its accessibility, it's all too likely that these are the versions that many people will associate the song names with: And the thought that this record contains the only versions of 'Apply Some Pressure' or 'Just' that some people may ever have heard breaks my heart.

(P.S: Wikipedia reveals that Ronson has also recorded versions of 'Pistol Of Fire' by Kings Of Leon and 'No One Knows' by Queens Of The Stone Age. And I'm quite sure that I never, ever want to hear either of them.)

#21: Arctic Monkeys - Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not (2006)

2008-07-24T01:55:00.002+01:00

The View From The Afternoon
I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor
Fake Tales Of San Francisco
Dancing Shoes
You Probably Couldn't See For The Lights But You Were Staring Straight At Me
Still Take You Home
Riot Van
Red Light Indicates Doors Are Secured
Mardy Bum
Perhaps Vampires Is A Bit Strong But...
When The Sun Goes Down
From The Ritz To The Rubble
A Certain Romance

I think this speaks for itself really.

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Ah, 2005. I was lucky enough to catch Arctic Monkeys when their shows used to sell out in days rather than minutes, shortly before a little song called 'I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor' ram-raided the British public's consciousness and saw four guys from Sheffield become British music's next great hope. It's still ubiquitous on dancefloors throughout the country (and probably the world), the combination of guitar-thrashing intensity and pop-culture referencing lyrics making it both an instant and lasting hit. By the time January 2006 had rolled round, the hype had built to ridiculous levels, and with it came a massive weight of expectation on the band's debut album, Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not.

But let's step back from that a little. Opening the album is 'The View From The Afternoon', a song that would eventually become a pseudo-single as the lead track of the Who The Fuck Are Arctic Monkeys? EP. Beginning with a blast of guitar that's as raw as its lyrics are razor sharp, it serves well as a statement of intent and an introduction to the band's world. Not that a statement of intent was necessary: That had come even before 'Dancefloor' with the one-two punch of limited early release Five Minutes With Arctic Monkeys. The first hit was the scenester-baiting 'Fake Tales Of San Francisco', mixing a funky bounce with scathing put-downs of sub-par wannabes. The follow-up was 'From The Ritz To The Rubble': Positioned brilliantly here as the penultimate track, it sees Turner spitting lines like some hyperactive Yorkshire MC railing against cuntish bouncers.

Indeed, many of the songs here were already familiar to legions of loyal fans who'd downloaded demos of them that were freely available on the internet. But the raw potential of those demos was fully realised on the album. 'Dancing Shoes' and 'Still Take You Home' get additional sonic punch, while 'When The Sun Goes Down' was beefed up into the form that would see it become the band's second number one hit. For me, however, perennial fan favourite 'Mardy Bum' has lost a little of its lustre due to overexposure: But try telling that to everyone who's still chanting along to the song before Turner's even started singing.

The band weren't so caught up in the whirlwind of hype that they didn't have time to write a riposte to the sneering naysayers who never thought they'd get off the ground: 'Perhaps Vampires Is A Bit Strong But...' sees Turner's barbed lyrics matched with weighty, distorted guitars to provide one of the album's darker moments. There were other new tracks too: 'You Probably Couldn't See For The Lights But You Were Staring Straight At Me' barrels through a tale of a girl who's got the whole club wrapped around her finger, while 'Red Light Indicates Doors Are Secured' details the recollections and regrets of a night out during the taxi ride home.

And it's the snappy, observational lyricism of Arctic Monkeys that's the real draw. Turner speaks simply but poetically in words that everyone can related to: Drunken texts in 'The View From The Afternoon' ("...and there's verse and chapter sat in her inbox, and all that it says is that you drank a lot."), extortionate taxi fares in 'Red Light Indicates Doors Are Secured' ("How come it's already two pound fifty? We've only gone about a yard."), the blurred haze of the morning after in 'From The Ritz To The Rubble' ("Last night what we talked about, it made so much sense... but now the haze has ascended it don't make no sense anymore.") - even on 'Riot Van', the album's sole 'slow' number, the lyricism holds up (And up rolled the riot van, and these lads just wind the coppers up... they ask why they don't catch proper crooks). It's all wrapped up neatly on final track and perennial set-closer 'A Certain Romance': It's a neat summation of the world the band live in, and unsurprisingly it's a world that's familiar to anyone who's lived in (or even just visited) the streets of Britain in recent years. I could go on and on about the lines that bring out a smile, a laugh, or an appreciative wince in me, but I'll spare you - you can listen to the album yourself for that.

Some fail to see the appeal of Arctic Monkeys, or struggle to understand what makes them stand out from the crop of observational indie bands that seem to permeate the genre, while others decry them as 'overhyped NME bollocks'. And as the demo swappers and early gig goers will tell you, it's simply the following: Witty lyrics that are both well written and well delivered, and songs that hook you from the first listen with an undeniable catchiness. It's not rocket science, and it never claimed to be - Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not is just a fantastic debut record by a really fucking good band - and that's what they are, even if you say they're not.

#20: Crystal Castles - Crystal Castles (2008)

2008-07-20T15:25:00.006+01:00

Untrust Us
Alice Practice
Crimewave (Crystal Castles VS Health)
Magic Spells
Xxzxcuzx Me
Air War
Courtship Dating
Good Time
1991
Vanished
Knights
Love And Caring
Through The Hosiery
Reckless
Black Panther
Tell Me What To Swallow

HEY GUYS I JUST DISCOVERED THIS REALLY COOL BAND CALLED CRYSTAL CASTLES oh wait what.

Joking about the hilarious belatedness of this review aside, this album took a while to grow on me, but I like it more every time I listen to it. For all the hype and controversy that's surrounded them, they've produced a damn good record.

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Although Crystal Castles have tended to distance themselves from the chiptune scene in interviews, there's no denying that their sound recalls those classic Atari/Nintendo/Sega blips and bleeps. 'Untrust Us' sounds like an epic journey across an 8-bit landscape, narrated in infectious gibberish - complete with an incongruous 2-second guitar thrash at the end to throw off inattentive DJs. Elsewhere, 'Courtship Dating' features menacing synths that sound like the haunted house level from your favourite 80's video game, while Alice threatens to "Make you cry tears of pain" like some sort of sadistic cheerleader - 'Through The Hosiery' thinks along similar lines, with Alice's echoy vocals questioning "How does it feel when you can't feel nothing?". Appropriately enough, '1991' and 'Reckless' would slot neatly into the soundtrack of many a Mega Drive game (I'm thinking Streets Of Rage in particular).

Of course, the band are renowned for their incendiary live shows, which is where their vicious streak comes into play. After the soothing intro of 'Untrust Us', 'Alice Practice' is a shock to the system, an abrasive mix of distorted yelps, thumping beats and malfunctioning Gameboy sounds, while 'Xxzxcuzx Me' sees Alice screaming garbled death threats over the sound of an arcade machine having an epileptic fit. Also fitting into this category is the controversial 'Love And Caring', with its drumbeats apparently stolen from a chiptune artist named Covox - regardless, it's another assault on the senses that once again sees Alice shrieking viciously.

The band do, however, make more relaxed sounds too: 'Magic Spells' is 6 minutes of spaced-out, 8-bit chillout, 'Air War' burbles along pleasantly with Alice's vocals distorted in an almost babyish manner, and 'Good Time' almost makes the synths sound... happy?

Crystal Castles have also gained a reputation as remixers, and their version of 'Crimewave' appears on the record, masterfully transforming the raw intensity of labelmates Health into a glassy-eyed stare before spiraling off into the pounding drumbeats of the original. Elsewhere, 'Vanished' samples the vocals Van She's 'Sex City', layering them over cold, lonely sounding synths to sublime effect. It's the closest they come to a standard dance track - albeit one that sounds like Pong being played in an echo chamber, and one that's light years ahead of your average Saturday night floor-filler.

The album ends strongly, with some of the best tracks saved until last: 'Black Panther' takes us on a heady rush through a twilit cityscape, like the soundtrack to some lonely, desperate attempt to escape from... something. Finally, 'Tell Me What To Swallow' eschews the synths that permeate the rest of the record entirely, consisting of Alice singing a creepy, ethereal lullaby over a fragile acoustic guitar strum. It's an indication that the band don't want to be put in an Atari-shaped box, and in my opinion it's also one of the best tracks on the album.

The genius of Crystal Castles is how they somehow conjure up emotion from the most artificial of sounds. The vocals lend a human edge to the even the coldest of computerised beats, but at their best ('Untrust Us', 'Vanished', 'Black Panther') the blips and bleeps take on a life of their own. Sure, as an album it's perhaps a little overloaded - it could be a couple of tracks shorter and few would bat an eyelid, and the more abrasive moments can begin to grate after a while. But that shouldn't put a downer on the high points, so just pick and choose your favourite moments and leave it at that: The band are probably already in search of new ways to make unexpectedly emotional noise, so where they go from here is anyone's guess.

#19: Coldplay - Viva La Vida or Death And All His Friends (2008)

2008-07-13T13:30:00.007+01:00

Life In Technicolor
Cemeteries Of London
Lost!
42
Lovers In Japan/Reign Of Love
Yes
Viva La Vida
Violet Hill
Strawberry Swing
Death And All His Friends

Someone suggested that I rename this blog ‘An Album Every (Update) Day’. I’m seriously considering it. Anyway, here’s a month-late review of the new Coldplay record – I don’t really need to elaborate on that one do I?

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Coldplay are arguably a band with little to lose – with household-name status already well assured, their EMI bankrollers declared their fourth album ‘the most important record of the year’ (and I don’t think they mean musically). With the record’s success almost guaranteed, it only seemed reasonable for the band to take the opportunity to experiment with their sound a little.

From the upbeat opening bars of ‘Life In Technicolor’ it’s clear that Coldplay want to do things differently: After being told it would be perfect single material, the band stripped the vocals from it, leaving it as their very own stadium show introduction piece. From there, the album delves into more expansive territory, with ‘Cemeteries Of London’ contrasting shimmering guitars and echoy vocals with tribal beats, the overall sound being haunting while still maintaining a sense of drive. ‘Lost!’ meanwhile, sees the band continuing to think ‘stadium-sized’, re-imagining the beat from Queen’s ‘We Will Rock You’ and layering it with grandiose organs, ghostly choral sounds and an ever so slightly distorted guitar solo.

The band then demonstrate that they aren’t afraid to mix the old with the new. At first, ‘42’ seems like a return to classic Coldplay ballad form a la ‘Trouble’, albeit fleshed out with luscious strings. But then it changes to the sound Coldplay… rocking out? Granted, it’s probably the politest rock-out you’ll ever hear, but the guitars have the kind of edge we haven’t really heard from the band since ‘Shiver’.

In some sort of attempt to subvert the music industry (read: iTunes), the band have taken to combining two songs into one track. The only one of these that’s listed as such is ‘Lovers In Japan/Reign Of Love’, and unfortunately as a value for money proposition it’s fairly poor: While the upbeat piano of ‘Lovers In Japan’ is pleasantly satisfying, ‘Reign Of Love’ falls a little flat by contrast, consisting largely of Martin’s vocals being washed over by piano that’s watery even by Coldplay’s standards.

Much better is ‘Yes’, which sees Martin challenging himself by tackling the lower reaches of his vocal range, while the track is laced with strings that dart between Middle-Eastern influenced dramatics and the kind of atonal sounds that John Cale would be proud of. But then, four minutes in, the track seamlessly changes to a mini shoegaze-lite anthem that’s awash with harmonious guitars and ethereal vocals. And so in the space of eight minutes, the band have touched on both My Bloody Valentine and The Velvet Underground – remember that this is Coldplay we’re talking about, and it’s clear we’ve come a long way since ‘Yellow’.

For me, no track demonstrates this more than the titular ‘Viva La Vida’. Essentially, it’s the sound of modern dance music if someone had invented it during the renaissance: Stabbing strings instead of synths, church bells instead of cowbells, lyrics about kings and revolutionaries – ‘Rhythm Is A Dancer’ this ain’t (it is, however, utterly huge and easily the album’s biggest standout). Following this up is ‘Violet Hill’, which features guitars with the kind of distorted crunch that we’ve never heard from the band before, brilliantly combined with the sort of simply affecting sentiment that got them here in the first place: “If you love me, why’d you let me go?”

From here, the album threatens to go out with a whimper rather than a bang, with ‘Strawberry Swing’ being a hazy, doe-eyed hippy jaunt that seems to want to bring back Flower Power more than anything else. And so it’s up to ‘Death And All His Friends’ to provide the ‘bang’, and after a couple of minutes of sleepy balladry and piano buildup it finally decides to reappropriate the guitars from ‘Fix You’ and make a leap for ‘life-affirming anthem’ status, succeeding admirably with a chant of “I don’t wanna follow death and all of his friends!”

…but then the band decide they should end on a calmer note after all, reprising the shimmering synths from the start of ‘Life In Technicolor’ while Martin sings gently over the top. Either they’re trying to get their fans to subconsciously press repeat, or they’ve already accepted that a lot of people who are going to buy this record are going to have it on repeat for weeks anyway – so they might as well make it flow effortlessly from end to beginning (as well as from beginning to end).

However, for all the band’s attempts to push their sonic template in new directions, Viva La Vida or Death And All His Friends still sounds undeniably like a Coldplay record. This can largely be attributed to Martin’s distinctive vocals, which have been a defining feature of the band from day one: Whether or not this is a positive or a negative for you depends on what you thought of the band’s previous material. Indeed, it’s probably already separated those who eagerly bought the record on the day it came out from those who regarded it with a disdainful sneer and wouldn’t touch it with a barge pole. Which is a shame really: Whether or not this is the band’s ‘best’ record is up for debate, but it’s certainly their most interesting in terms of new ideas – perhaps Coldplay’s critics ought to give the band another chance.

#18: Johnny Foreigner - Waited Up 'Til It Was Light (2008)

2008-06-25T16:05:00.002+01:00

Lea Room
Our Bipolar Friends
Eyes Wide Terrified
Cranes And Cranes And Cranes And Cranes
The End And Everything After
Hennings Favourite
Salt, Peppa And Spinderella
Yes! You Talk Too Fast
DJs Get Doubts
Sometimes, In The Bullring
Yr All Just Jealous
Absolute Balance
The Hidden Song At The End Of The Record

Well, I had intended to cover this at the time of it's release right at the beginning of the month, but obviously laptop death got in the way. With the initiative well and truly lost, I suppose I should just get on with it...

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Occasionally, a record comes along that leaps out at you with its sheer brilliance. In my eyes, Birmingham three-piece Johnny Foreigner have made such a record with Waited Up 'Til It Was Light. It's evident from the very opening track, 'Lea Room': After a brief casiotone intro, a crunch of guitar and Alexei's whirlwind vocal hit you full in the face, to be matched perfectly by Kelly's dulcet tones, equally as comfortable with soothing harmonies or riotous screams. She even takes on a fragile solo at the beginning of 'Our Bipolar Friends', before the song crashes into life with a squall of guitar and frenzied drumming as Alexei's rapid-fire vocal joins in. Meanwhile, 'Eyes Wide Terrified' sees the band bring out a massively anthemic chorus: "Your life is a song, your life is a song, your life is a song, but not this one," they chant: It's simple, emotive and effective.

The record comes complete with a healthy dose of hometown resentment: 'Cranes And Cranes And Cranes And Cranes' sees Alexei sneering "Why'd you wanna live here if there's nothing but housing?", while 'The End And Everything After' sees the band "dazed by the money, trapped by community." The most poignant sentiment comes on 'Yr All Just Jealous' , its wonderfully harmonised outro seeing friends and acquaintances realise their ambitions of getting the hell out of there, leaving the band as "Three ghosts in Birmingham." The band also demonstrate some scathing wit at times: "There were no female pirates: Your friends are dressed like whores," goes the bluntly hilarious opening line of 'Yes! You Talk Too Fast'.

'Hennings Favourite' starts with a soaring guitar line that leads into a tale of garage-rock zombies, before eventually fading neatly into the drum-machine intro of 'Salt, Peppa And Spinderella', a tender tale of post-night worry that not only contains a fantastic spoken-word section, it also features one of the most grin-inducing moments in any song I've heard this year: "Bring out the real fun: Turn on the real drums," says Alexei near the end of the song, cueing an instant transition from Casio-powered beats to rapid-fire 'acoustic' drum riffs, as the guitars break out into a primal thrash before spiralling upwards to the song's climax.

'DJs Get Doubts' is a break from the relentless pace, and proves that the band can do slow and affecting too - it's a wonderfully fragile ballad, with Kelly forlornly singing "There's no such thing as a free night out, guestlists cost and DJs get doubts," before combining with Alexei for the lump-in throat chorus: "These little white lies drag you through the colder nights." The bashful declarations of 'Sometimes, In The Bullring' also tug at the heartstrings, with Alexei declaring to his loved one "I will wait for you outside car parks, outside busy shopping centres, I will wait for you at work when all your early shifts run late."

'Absolute Balance' sees the band throw in everything but the kitchen sink in: Twinkling piano and skyscraping guitars, pounding drums and casio-beats, with Alexei's howled vocals straining to be heard over the maelstrom. It provides an epic sense of closure as the album's final track... or so it would seem. Much like their contemporaries Los Campesinos!, they've pulled of the trick of having two 'final' songs on their album, the very last track being the unlisted and appropriately named 'The Hidden Song At The End Of The Record'. As an epilogue for the album, it serves its purpose perfectly, combining everything that's good about the rest of the band's output with a joyously chaotic double speed ending.

Overall, Waited Up 'Til It Was Light is a relentless thrill from beginning to end, a record that grabs you by the head and heart and pulls you into the band's world. It's full of great moments, Kelly's guttural scream of "I might be drunk but at least I'm standing up!" on 'Sometimes, In The Bullring' and Alexei's touching intro on 'Eyes Wide Terrified' being just a couple that I haven't already mentioned. In my mind, this is currently battling it out with the debut from Los Campesinos! for the title of 'favourite record of the year so far'. Both records demonstrate both lyrical and musical brilliance, but Johnny Foreigner somehow manage to do it with less than half the members. In short, this is a band to believe in and a record to fall in love with: Go buy it, now.

Hi, I'm not dead.

2008-06-24T17:40:00.000+01:00

Well, that wasn't supposed to be a month-long haitus, but such is life. Laptop is fixed now, so expect some new reviews... soon?

Seems like I spoke too soon...

2008-05-24T23:00:00.000+01:00

Apologies once again, but an unfortunate mishap has lead to the backlight on my laptop dying on me. So I'm going to have to go on hiatus again until I get it fixed (or at least get regular access to a computer with a properly functioning screen). I'll try to update when I can, but don't expect anything for at least the next week or so. Sorry.

#17: Klaxons - Myths Of The Near Future (2007)

2008-05-23T03:20:00.003+01:00

Two Receivers
Atlantis To Interzone
Golden Skans
Totem On The Timeline
As Above, So Below
Isle Of Her
Gravity's Rainbow
Forgotten Works
Magick
It's Not Over Yet
Four Horsemen Of 2012

(Yay for finishing reviews at 3 in the morning. Assignment? What assignment...)

What with all their award-winning and sold out tours, Klaxons probably don't need too much introduction, and there's no point in me blathering on about 'nu-rave' here: I do that enough in the actual review. Suffice to say that this is a great album with some (whisper it) unashamedly pop moments - if you haven't heard it yet, don't be put off by the hype.

---

A lot of the noise surrounding Klaxons' debut album was concerned with the so-called genre of 'nu-rave': A supposed revival of the synth-fuelled, glowstick waving antics of the mid-90's. But the first song you hear doesn't sound like the sort of thing you'd hear in a rave at all. Building up from echoy drums into spooky keyboards, melodramatic pianos and a trio of haunting vocals, 'Two Receivers' is instead an ethereal slice of brilliance that not only serves as a fantastic opening gambit, but also as a direct challenge to those who thought that this album was going to be nothing more than a rave pastiche.

The bulk of the responsibility for such preconceptions must surely fall to 'Atlantis To Interzone': If there's one song that can be credited with the creation of 'nu-rave', then this is it. It's the sound of ridiculous sirens and synthetic 'oh-oh-oh's becoming cool again, a deranged three-minute thrill ride from sunken ruins to stateless cities and god-knows-where in between. 'Golden Skans' can also be considered to have had a hand in this, named as it is after a type of lighting projector. But it's actually a pop song through and through, from the breathy "Oooooooooh! Aaaah!"s that permeate the song to the fact that it's absolutely rammed with lyrical and musical hooks.

The band aren't afraid to getting a bit weird though, as they openly admit to being inspired by the likes of J.G. Ballard (indeed, the title of the album comes from a collection of short stories by the author). 'Totem On The Timeline' is some sort of bizarro-package holiday across time: "At club 18-30 I met Julius Caesar, Lady Diana and Mother Teresa!" go the lyrics, as buzzsaw guitars cut their way through the fourth dimension. 'As Above, So Below', on the other hand, sees the band gazing at the stars and contemplating cosmic movements, losing themselves in a space-age haze of inky blackness.

'Isle Of Her' could provide the soundtrack to a particularly post-modern production of Homer's Odyssey, methodical drums and a dirty bassline providing the backdrop to a ship of greek sailors rowing through some fanciful tale of myth. (Apparently it's based on a short story entitled 'Concerning The Cyclops And The Isle Of Her' by French absurdist writer Alfred Jarry. You learn something new every day.) Once again, the band follow this up with another complete contrast: 'Gravity's Rainbow' is the record's most shining pop moment, with notions of romance that transcend time and space - "Come with me, come with me, we'll travel to infinity... I'll always be there for you, my future love."

'Forgotten Works' is an aural adventure seemingly inspired by 80s adventure movies, or possibly The Legend Of Zelda: "Light the bridges with the lantern, you know something's going to happen..." warn the band in ethereal tones, as the music descends deeper and deeper into some mystical tomb. And if 'Forgotten Works' soundtracks the initial exploration, 'Magick' is the sound of the inevitable evil curse being unleashed: By the sound of it, it's the curse of nu-rave once again, with demented synths battering against your brain while the vocals are a possessed chant that increases in crazed fervour as the song reaches its climax.

'It's Not Over Yet', on the other hand, is the sound of old rave turned new (or should that be 'nu'?). Breathing fresh life into Grace's 1995 techno hit 'Not Over Yet', it turns the cheesy dance vibe of the original into something truly emotive and euphoric, with the band's guitars providing some much-needed weight to the tune as the synths blare out in one final fit of joy. And then after the song's fadeout, it really is over: 'Four Horsemen Of 2012' is the fully realised sound of nu-rave in its death throes, galloping through a cataclysmic nightmare before collapsing in a post-apocalyptic heap.

And so, with Myths Of The Near Future, Klaxons have invented, then killed off a genre in the space of 40 minutes. Not only that, but they've also provided a smattering of pop brilliance along the way, as well as demonstrating some more dynamically adventurous moments. So, while 'nu-rave' may just have been a frivolous joke that got taken far further than the band ever intended, the band have proven that they can transcend the hype: This is a collection of varied ideas that somehow fit together as a cohesive whole to create an excellent debut album. The concrete proof will come with the second record, but on this evidence, Klaxons should have the ability to stick around far longer than the genre they ironically spawned.

#16: The Kills - Midnight Boom (2008)

2008-05-21T11:30:00.007+01:00

U.R.A. Fever
Cheap And Cheerful
Tape Song
Getting Down
Last Day Of Magic
Hook And Line
Black Balloon
M.E.X.I.C.O.C.U.
Sour Cherry
Alphabet Pony
What New York Used To Be
Goodnight Bad Morning

It was with some reticence that I approached The Kills' third album, for reasons that were entirely non-musical (I won't bother going into them, you can probably work it out if you know me). I did eventually buy the album a few weeks after its release, but it still took a while before I actually got round to writing this review. So here it is.

---

Long before the tabloid press cared to know the names of Jamie 'Hotel' Vince and Alison 'VV' Mosshart, The Kills set out their stall as a sexually-charged, DIY garage-rock twosome back in 2003 with Keep On Your Mean Side. Thankfully, Midnight Boom doesn't see them stray too far from their roots: But don't worry, they're certainly not stagnating either.

The album starts strongly with an arresting pair of songs that served well as the record's first two singles. 'U.R.A. Fever' sounds like a shady phonebox conversation spoken entirely in riddles before giving way to a convulsing, seductive chorus hook and searing stabs of guitar. The equally punchy 'Cheap And Cheerful' revels in its own minimalism, its biggest extravagances being the occasional military drumroll and the handclaps that punctuate Mosshart's lyrics as the guitar fuzzes along in the background.

While the lyrics of the first two songs are frivolously nonsensical, yet still oddly seductive, the band do also show some more coherent themes. On 'Tape Song', Mosshart turns matter-of-fact agony aunt: First she advises against the 'fix it with duct tape' strategy for a broken heart ("Tape ain't gonna fix it honey, it ain't gonna stick.") before dropping the bombshell that "Time ain't gonna cure you honey, time don't give a shit." Her only advice seems somehow cryptic despite its apparent simplicity: "You've got to go straight ahead." 'Black Balloon' continues this theme with more cold-hearted advice for a former lover: "You can hold on but I wouldn't waste your time," Mossheart deadpans, and there's barely even the slightest hint of sadness as she casts her lover aside with a sigh of "let the weather have its way with you."

The band aren't always the ones dishing out broken hearts to other people though. 'Last Day Of Magic' should surely go down as one of The Kills' best songs to date, with its discordant (yet still oddly tuneful) opening riff giving way to jagged, staccato bursts of guitar, while the dual vocals of Hince and Mosshart breathe a sense of upbeat melancholy into the song: "Last day of magic: Where are you?" they lament to one another as the guitars switch to an understated drive. It's a stripped-down garage rock take on the perfect summer pop song, and it sounds superb.

Elsewhere, 'Getting Down' sounds like LCD Soundsystem stripped bare and making suggestive eyes across the room, while on 'Hook And Line' Mosshart does her best PJ Harvey impression as Hince summons up a squall of guitar that also recalls PJ's rockier moments. 'M.E.X.I.C.O.C.U' pins a hastily scrawled 'see you later' note to a ramshackle take on the riff from Joy Division's 'No Love Lost' to create an effortless sub-two minute thrill ride, and 'Sour Cherry' follows this up with another engaging proposition, falling somewhere between the handclap-laden minimalism of 'Cheap And Cheerful' and the pop sensibilities of 'Last Day Of Magic'.

'Alphabet Pony' contrasts a menacing guitar line with some of the most bizarre lyrics on the album ("Pink plastic Jesus on the dashboard," anyone?), and 'What New York Used To Be' continues the sense of menace as Mosshart nonchalantly reels off a list of "What [x] used to be" like she's casually discarding stale memories.

The album ends on a comedown note, with 'Goodnight Bad Morning' sounding a little bit like The Velvet Underground's 'Sunday Morning' updated for the 21st century: Speed instead of Heroin, hazy but oddly tender declarations of love ("I love you so much, never forget") replacing paranoia. It's an uncharacteristically pretty way to end the album, but it works rather well as a contrast to the intensity displayed elsewhere.

Overall, Midnight Boom can be considered a success on the band's own terms: They stick firmly to their DIY guns and there's still evidence of that dangerously sexy vibe on display. While the record doesn't quite manage to replicate the dirty thrills of the opening two tracks or the ramshackle brilliance of 'Last Day Of Magic', there's still enough going on to keep the album moving. Even when it threatens to tail off towards the end, 'Goodnight Bad Morning' comes along just in time to wrap things up nicely. It's not going to convince the band's detractors and will probably leave vapid, name-dropping red-top/Heat readers scratching their heads, but for everyone else, this is a convincing return for The Kills and a fine addition to their back catalogue.

#15: Daft Punk - Discovery (2001)

2008-05-19T00:00:00.006+01:00

One More Time
Aerodynamic
Digital Love
Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger
Crescendolls
Nightvision
Superheroes
High Life
Something About Us
Voyager
Veridis Quo
Short Circuit
Face To Face
Too Long

(As promised, back from hiatus - and with uni drawing to a close, hopefully I shouldn't have to take another one for a good while.)

I figured that if I was going to waste all my dance-related adjectives on one album, it might as well be one by French House pioneers Daft Punk. You could argue that I should've done my Homework first, but this blog is all about Discovery...

Ok, that was terrible.

---

Daft Punk are the kind of band (for lack of a better term) who have had a huge influence on their respective genre: It's one that can still be felt today, most pointedly if you look at a certain other French duo of recent times. Homework set the ball rolling in the mid-90's with the likes of 'Da Funk' and 'Around The World', but Discovery is probably the record that contains their most easily recognisable anthems.

In fact, at first glance, the album might seem incredibly front-loaded, with its singles lined up neatly in chronological order as the first four tracks. But then again, if you're going to create an album with the intention of making people dance, you want them to get moving right from the start, no? The hands in the air, feel-good vibe of 'One More Time' is palpable from the very first second, although the duo pull the trick of keeping the first 30 seconds or so a little muted, almost recreating that moment where you're walking up to the door of a party in full swing, the sound of the music straining to escape through the walls. Then you open the door and BAM, it's on like Donkey Kong - "Don't stop the dancing".

'Aerodynamic' keeps things moving with a funky synth loop before whacking out the kind of earnestly excessive guitar solo that demands furious air guitaring. Suddenly, a bell tolls, and then the opening loop repeats - except this time it sounds like it's being played on a synth that's slowly sinking to the bottom of a lake. 'Digital Love', on the other hand, appears to be the result of the world's most endearingly naïve android creating the perfect soundtrack to the tentative advances of coy teenagers. Finally, the robo-powered electro-house-funk of 'Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger' rounds out the record's opening salvo in a fit of warped vocals and jerky danceability.

Thankfully, the band's creativity extends beyond their most obvious hits: The cheerleader shouts and handclaps of 'Crescendolls' sound like someone laying the foundations for The Go! Team, while 'Nightvision' proves that there's more than banging house anthems to the band, with a sub-two minute swathe of soothing ambience and occasionally ominous minor-key tones.

'Superheroes' thumps it's way into existence with a pounding drumbeat and looped vocals before arpeggiated synths skitter across the foreground, and follow up 'High Life' doesn't stray too far from this formula either. 'Something About Us', however, is a different beast entirely: The simple sentiment of 'Digital Love' returns, but this time it's set to a laid-back lounge beat that provides the record with a moment that's both a little bit romantic and also oddly chilled out.

It's only a brief break from the dancing though, as 'Voyager' begins with a space-age synth before the thumping drums return along with an understated yet incessantly funky bassline, with an electric harp-like sound gliding effortlessly over its closing stages. They then see fit to try another experiment for a couple of tracks. 'Veridis Quo' starts out sounding like something from a Final Fantasy soundtrack, and this opening riff continues throughout the song as the main character wanders into a club, then out onto the balcony to stare at the stars for a while - there's even a bit where the reedy synth riff drops out long enough for some tasty plot exposition to be revealed. Moving on to a different genre of game entirely, the glitchy, in-your-face electro of 'Short Circuit' wouldn't sound out of place in a Sonic The Hedgehog level - the song's breakdown even sounds like a Mega Drive's sound chip laboriously malfunctioning.

After briefly considering a career as video game composers, the duo return to their more usual house style on 'Face To Face', with the cut-up vocals of earlier tracks making their return before (gasp), a coherent, untreated vocal appears for the first time on the record, giving the song a touch of electro-pop cheesiness that isn't entirely a bad thing. And while it's tempting to make the obvious joke about 10-minute album closer 'Too Long', it maintains its groove well enough to prove a godsend for lazy DJs who need to nip out for a quick fag or two, leaving the crowd to ironically mock the song's title while still shaking their arses to it - even if it does sound naggingly like UK Garage types Artful Dodger (although saying that, I did like their album...).

The record doesn't really end with any sort of sense of closure, but in this context that's not so important: In my eyes, Daft Punk aren't particularly an 'album' band, although in fairness the record's tracklisting certainly doesn't feel haphazardly thrown together. So yeah, this is the kind of record you can carelessly throw on at a party to make people dance with the minimum of effort, but you're more likely to hear these tracks worked into DJ sets and cropping up on houseparty playlists, where they'll fit in seamlessly with just about anything else you care to play. The album is at its best when it's trying something a little different, but even the more straightforward house tracks do enough to keep you moving. Overall, while Discovery is perfectly listenable as a purely aural experience, it isn't necessarily the sort of album you'll just want to sit down and listen to. Rather, its greatest strength lies in the fact that it's a collection of great songs to make you dance: And that's the point of dance music, right?

Hiatus.

2008-05-05T00:00:00.001+01:00

Well, I almost managed a whole month.

As you may have noticed, my last review was a day or so late. Unfortunately, as I'm already behind schedule and things are going to get increasingly busy for me in the next few weeks, I'm going to have to take a bit of a break from updating this blog. However, I hope to keep writing intermittently, so hopefully I'll be able to at least write one or two new reviews within the next couple of weeks. If all goes well, I plan to resume updates on Monday 19th May, with the schedule continuing as normal from that point onwards.

Apologies to those who've been following this regularly (yes, all three of you :P). For those who haven't, feel free to peruse the archives at your leisure while I'm 'away'. See you in two weeks time, hopefully.

#14: Battles - Mirrored (2007)

2008-05-04T22:05:00.002+01:00

Race: In
Atlas
Ddiamondd
Tonto
Leyendecker
Rainbow
Bad Trails
Prismism
Snare Hanger
Tij
Race: Out

Yes, yes: This is deliberate.

(Yes, it's also a day or so late, sorry.)

I spent the latter half of 2007 banging on about this band to anyone who cared (and probably lots of people who didn't), and so I thought I'd foolishly attempt to convey in words just how brilliant a record this is. It was my favourite of last year by a long shot, and will probably rank highly among my favourites of all time for years to come.

---

Battles are a band who've seen much critical acclaim for their debut full-length, Mirrored: But when it comes to the perception of the general public, it was perhaps inevitable they would not fair so well. If you're one of those who only knows the band for 'that smurf song', then my ramblings probably aren't going to change your mind. But if you're willing to take a chance on them then your reward will be some of the richest, most interesting music being produced today.

'Race: In' is the perfect introduction to the band: Based on a skittering, infectious drumbeat, cascades of guitars and synths wash over each other to create a rich musical tapestry. It's like one of those paintings you might regard with an "I could do that..." attitude when browsing a modern art gallery - at first glance, it might seem slapdash and meaningless, but then you realise you're kidding yourself: You couldn't have created this in your wildest dreams. The effortless tempo changes, the way that contrasting ideas somehow fit so seamlessly together, the fact that this is the sound of four brilliant musical minds working as one: This is not your average band.

And then there's 'Atlas': The record's defining moment, it's a 7-minute romp through futurist sea-shanty beats, squelchy, gurgling synths, noisy guitar stabs, and the most infectiously twisted vocal heard throughout the whole of 2007. This is the kind of song that just makes you want to dance, oblivious as to whether or not everyone else is dancing along to the same rhythm as you (and given the complexity on display here, it's quite possible that they're not). The only thing that could possibly make this track better is if Tyondai was, in fact, singing "Sing this hook!" as the record's warped chorus vocal, like some sort of ironic commentary on lyric writing (it's actually "The singer is a crook," according to the band). Although the phrase "The chorus doesn't matter," does feature in the song and neatly sums up an essential truth about Battles: Namely, that the voice is used here like any other instrument, to be moulded and shaped as part of a wider vision, however the band see fit.

Indeed, we see this idea return on 'Ddiamondd'. This time, the vocals are sped up to match the song's frenetic pace as it barrels furiously towards its conclusion, creating a relentless pace without ever descending into total chaos. Then 'Tonto' returns things to 'epic' mode, with drums that drive steadily as guitars and synths weave an intricate web across an imaginary musical canvas, with an implacable bassline as the backdrop.

'Leyendecker', meanwhile, is a three-minute slice of post-hip-hop, with a killer drumbeat that's almost begging to be sampled by the Timbalands and Neptunes of the world. Once again demonstrating the 'voice as an instrument' concept, Tyondai's vocal is twisted into a helium-inflicted diva wail, while guitars echo menacingly in the background. Album centerpoint 'Rainbow', on the other hand, tumbles thrillingly over itself, almost like the band is slowly gathering speed after being pushed down a hill. The momentum builds and builds, and then suddenly the song hits a fake-ending comedown halfway through, before picking itself up, dusting itself down, battering the hell out of what's left of its instruments, and then staggering away in a woozy, incomprehensible daze.

It's not quite all killer, with 'Bad Trails' being the album's only slight mis-step: While its brooding guitar line and ambient rainforest noises do just enough to keep it interesting, it lacks the progressive inventiveness demonstrated on so many other tracks. Happily, it's followed by the album's snappiest two numbers: 'Prismism' sees the record stumble out of the rainforest of the previous track and into some sort of futuristic tribal ritual, while 'Snare Hanger' is a two-minute blast of taut, intense drumming, jerky guitars and spiralling synths.

'Tij' is the last of the band's epic moments, crunching into existence with looped synth feedback before piling on riff after riff, constantly moving on to new ideas in a giddy fit of self-discovery. There's so much going on, and yet the track never threatens to buckle under the weight of its own ideas, which is testament to the sheer quality of musicianship on display here. Finally, 'Race: Out' provides closure as only Battles know how: Relentless drumming and question/answer guitar riffs slowly fade out in a way that seems to lead perfectly back to 'Race: In', subconsciously demanding that you press the repeat button.

I couldn't help but laugh when NME described Mirrored as "music to offend boring people" in their end-of-year top 50 last year, and yet I'm also a little saddened by the fact there might actually be a shred of truth in that statement. It might just be me wanting to project my tastes on others, but it does upset me when people don't 'get' this record: It isn't supposed to be offensive, it's supposed to be fun. Battles are a band who make music journalism feel like a futile effort in the best way possible: No amount of words can adequately convey the raw thrill of listening to their music, whether it be for the first time or the hundredth. All that's left to say is that you should at the very least give this album a listen - and if you find yourself even the tiniest bit interested enough to go back and give it another play, then it's entirely possible that you'll find yourself hooked very soon.

#13: Buzzcocks - Another Music In A Different Kitchen (1978)

2008-05-01T00:00:00.009+01:00

Fast Cars
No Reply
You Tear Me Up
Get On Your Own
Love Battery
Sixteen
I Don't Mind
Fiction Romance
Autonomy
I Need
Moving Away From The Pulsebeat
Orgasm Addict*
Whatever Happened To...?*
What Do I Get?*
Oh Shit*

(Note: Tracks marked with a * only appeared on the CD re-issue of the album.)

I saw a reformed (well, sort of - only two of the members were in the original lineup) Buzzcocks live supporting Maxïmo Park at the end of 2007 and really wasn't very impressed. This lead me to get into a rather stupid argument with someone about the band, in which I claimed that they only had one memorable song (hint: It's not on this record) and that I'd rather go watch Battles any day. This review is, in essence, an attempt to challenge my preconceptions about the band - or, perhaps, see them justified...

---

The word Buzzcocks, much to the band's chagrin, is perhaps just as likely to recall the music-based BBC gameshow as the band themselves. A sign, perhaps, that the band failed to leave as much of a lasting impression on the punk scene as some of their contemporaries? On this evidence, I'm beginning to think that may well be the case.

Things actually start out reasonably promisingly with 'Fast Cars', with the kind of trademark punk guitar thrash and raw intensity that could almost take you back to a riotous show in some dive in 1978, while Shelly sneers "I hate fast cars!" his voice a mixture of distaste and envy. Follow-up 'No Reply' buzzes along pleasingly enough, but then things start to go downhill from there. The songs feel like more and more like they're only based on a singular riff that quickly becomes repetitive, and they begin to outstay their welcome despite lasting less than two and a half minutes each. This comes to a head on 'Sixteen', where the band's decision to stretch the song's turgid riff out to nearly four minutes seems utterly ill-advised: I couldn't help but end up agreeing with Shelley's when he says "They go on and on and on and on, oh I wish they would stop!"... but for all the wrong reasons.

Ironically, just as the album threatens to spin itself into sickening repetition, 'I Don't Mind' comes along to save some face by injecting some poppy sensibilities, almost acting as a precursor to their most famous hit. But then it goes and shoots itself in the foot again with 'Fiction Romance', which starts out promisingly with a driving riff but again feels at least a minute longer than it needs to be. And then, like the musical equivalent of a guinea pig, it repeats its own mistake on the very next track, 'Autonomy'.

But let's step away from the limitations of the punk sound and have a listen to what the band are actually saying. Unfortunately, unlike their more politically-charged peers, their message is a little more shallow. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing, and there are certainly some sentiments that are easy to relate to (not least "I wish I was sixteen again!"), but the album sometimes feels like little more than brattish moaning, with Shelly's half-sung, half-spoken vocals veering haphazardly between searing wit and a grating whine.

After 'I Need' speeds by with little consequence, the band unleash their final attempt at a song longer than three minutes on us: The seven-minute running time of 'Moving Away From The Pulsebeat' looks like a nightmare on paper, but turns out not to be too bad... for the first three and a half minutes or so, and then the song once again starts to drag. Mercifully, it cuts out into silence after about five minutes... and then starts up again with what sounds like a reprise of 'Fast Cars', before disappearing up its own arse in a series of echoey beeps in a truly bizarre moment.

Taking the tracks from the re-issue into account almost feels a little bit like cheating, but regardless there's a little bit of face saved in the forms of 'Orgasm Addict' and 'Oh Shit' - with the latter feeling like a belated realisation from the band that they're at their best when their songs clock in at less than two minutes.

I tried to like this album, and I'll be honest, I really wanted to hate it too. But I ended up being able to do neither, with the album inspiring little more than the very same boredom that it feels like it was conceived as an escape from. These are the kind of songs that get stuck in your head - but in an annoying way that means you end up with the same 5 seconds looping maddeningly around your brain, over and over again. These songs probably sounded amazing in some sweaty basement club in the late 70's, but now they feel mostly dated and forgettable - not what you'd hope for from an ostensibly 'legendary' band. So when punk becomes boring and the 'legends' are all too easily forgotten, all that's left is the overwhelming question: What's the point?

#12: Muse - Showbiz (1999)

2008-04-29T23:20:00.003+01:00

Sunburn
Muscle Museum
Filip
Falling Down
Cave
Showbiz
Unintended
Uno
Sober
Escape
Overdue
Hate This And I'll Love You

I wasn't even sure what today's review was going to be until about 2am this morning, when this review began to form in my head while I was listening to 'Uno'. I personally find it difficult to tell people where to start with Muse if they haven't been following the band's progression, but as I'll probably end up covering all their albums eventually I may as well start at the beginning - especially as that's where my head's taken me right now.

---

When bands graduate to titanic, arena-filling status, it can be easy to forget that there was a time when they were just like every other band - such is the case with Muse. It may seem like an age ago (indeed, it's getting on for a decade now), but in a time before sold-out Wembley Stadium shows, space-prog opuses, and even before 'Plug In Baby' was terrorising radio playlists, there was Showbiz.

And yet, from the haunting opening piano line of 'Sunburn', you can sense the ambition to be something greater than a band who've "played in every toilet" (a reminder that the road to success can be long and hard, even for a band like Muse). Lyrically, it's a clear indicator of the album's overriding themes: "She burns like the sun... and I can't look away!" Matt Bellamy howls as the piano takes a crashing turn. 'Muscle Museum', meanwhile begins with a menacingly brooding bassline, before the chorus sees him "begging for so much more than you could ever give." - it's a good introduction to the band's dark, emotionally-charged rock.

'Falling Down' is a more relaxed moment, although it can't contain itself for too long, with Bellamy's singing "Too late, I already found what I was looking for..." before breaking down into a roar of "you know it wasn't you!" towards the song's climax. Later on in the album, 'Escape' pulls much the same trick, beginning with plaintive sentiment before suddenly switching to weighty guitars. 'Filip' and 'Cave', on the other hand, reverse the format, starting out energetically before breaking down mid song.

'Showbiz' is the perfect centerpiece for the album, building up slowly from an echoy drumbeat before working itself into a frenzy of feedback, distortion, and gutturally howled vocals: "They make me dream your dreams! They make me scream your screams!" comes the cry from Bellamy, like the sound of a man driven insane by some twisted new form of mental torture.

Indeed, the mid-section of the album offers up some of the band's best work: Not just on this record, but in their back catalogue as a whole. 'Unintended' is still one of Muse's most tender moments, the fragile sound of a man struck so hard by love that he's got to scrape the shattered pieces of his heart from the floor before he can carry on with his life. Completely different, but no less brilliant, is 'Uno', which operates a perfect loud/quiet dynamic, opening with a squall of guitars before quietening down to little more than ominous guitar strums as Bellamy's malicious vocal cranks up the tension. And then it explodes once again in the chorus: "You could've been number one, and you could've ruled the whole world, and we could've had so much fun: But you blew it away!" screams Bellamy, his voice somehow encompassing both seething bitterness and wailing heartache. This leaves 'Sober' with a lot to live up to, and it just about manages it without being overly spectacular, but the thrashed-out guitars and wailing falsetto of the chorus do enough to keep it reasonably memorable.

As the album draws to a close, 'Overdue' storms through its two and a half minutes with Bellamy seething "I'm young, but I know when I'm aroused!" before his soaring falsetto returns on the chorus. Finally, in a fitting climax, 'Hate This And I'll Love You' alternates between strained, yearning vocals and a bombastic chorus that almost feels like a hint of what would come in the band's future, before presenting a tear-stained finale: "You lead me on," weeps Bellamy, before the guitars fade out to the chirping of crickets.

Looking back, Showbiz represents Muse before they had the intention of creating galaxy-spanning space rock or filthy intergalactic hip-shakers: Raw, visceral, and heartbroken, it's not aiming for the stars, but rather to hit you straight in the heart. In the context of their back catalogue, it represents somewhat of a paradox: It's not their most accomplished work, and yet some of their best songs are contained within it. Although it may have been difficult to see it at the time, in retrospect this album did contain a level of embryonic promise of the grander heights that the band would move on to - and in that sense, it's definitely worth your time to take a listen to it.

#11: The Last Shadow Puppets - The Age Of The Understatement (2008)

2008-04-27T22:15:00.003+01:00

The Age Of The Understatement
Standing Next To Me
Calm Like You
Separate And Ever Deadly
The Chamber
Only The Truth
My Mistakes Were Made For You
Black Plant
I Don't Like You Anymore
In My Room
The Meeting Place
Time Has Come Again

In what's either a demonstration of the latent effects of 'Monkey Mania' or an uncharacteristic demonstration of taste by the British public at large, this album went to number one in the UK charts today. What better time to dive into the pleasures of this collaboration between Alex Turner (Arctic Monkeys) and Miles Kane (The Rascals)?

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At first glance, it sounds like the ultimate in throwaway whimsey: Two best mates head off to France for a couple of weeks to record an album, then get Arcade Fire's Owen Pallet to arrange and conduct an orchestra over the whole thing. But to look at it like that would be to ignore the vision behind the record and the care that's gone into it: Any dread that may be inspired by the phrase 'side-project' should categorically be put aside when listening to this record.

The album's opening gambit is a bold one, with titular track 'The Age Of The Understatement' sounding like The Coral collaborating with the London Metropolitan Orchestra to cover 'Knights Of Cydonia', while Turner's lyrics seem to invite a doomed romance: "Before this attraction ferments, kiss me properly and pull me apart." It's very much a statement of intent: A sweeping, bombastic tune that's over in a punchy three minutes, it's epic without being overwrought.

'Standing Next To Me' sees Turner and Kane nail their vocal harmonies exceptionally over an upbeat acoustic guitar strum, while the strings tastefully rise and fall at all the right moments. 'Calm Like You', meanwhile, shows from the very first line that Turner maintains his brilliant lyricism even outside of the context of his 'day job'. "I can still remember when your city smelt exciting: I still get a wiff of that aroma now and then," he sings wistfully, a perfect intro to the track's orchestral pop sensibilities. Later in the album, 'In My Room' combines these sensibilities with organ sounds borrowed straight from the 60's, while 'Only The Truth' starts out with a staccato vocal and drum combo before returning to the spaghetti-western style of the opener, galloping through its tale of a femme fatale ("Don't give her an eye or she'll sniper your mind!") in less than two minutes before breaking down into a squall of guitars, horns and strings.

Like many classic pop albums, the themes of love and loss run throughout the album. 'The Chamber' sees proceedings take a fragile, melancholy turn, with Turner advising a former lover to "Leave yourself alone." And while 'My Mistakes Were Made For You' may begin with the lyric "About as subtle as an earthquake, I know," it actually turns out to be one of the album's most tastefully restrained moments, with Turner's plaintive vocal taking centre stage before the sweeping orchestration gradually builds up to a poignant climax. This trick is repeated again on 'Black Plant', only this time it's a soaring string line that takes the lead in a tale of a boy "Who got papercuts from the love letters you never gave him."

It's not all sentimentality though, and the album certainly demonstrates a dark side at times. 'Separate And Ever Deadly' starts with a Tango-like beat before rapid-fire guitars that wouldn't be out of place on an Arctic Monkeys track kick in, while 'I Don't Like You Anymore' is the album's most sinister moment, with reverberating minor-key guitars matched with a pair of contrasting vocals: Turner's sounding ghostly and distant, while Kane's sound distorted, bitter and angry.

The album ends with two contrastingly tender tracks that demonstrate the breadth of The Last Shadow Puppets' ambition. 'The Meeting Place' is the album's most grandiose classic pop moment, with the orchestration sounding at its most epicly upbeat as the duo sing "I'm sorry I met you darling: I'm sorry I've left you." At the opposite end of the scale is 'Time Has Come Again', with Turner's melancholy vocals set starkly over a simple acoustic guitar line, before the strings rise calmly in the background, tugging at the heartstrings without ever overwhelming the song as a whole.

It's amazing how epic these songs manage to sound despite the fact they never extend past the four minute mark. As a whole, The Age Of The Understatement is an unashamedly grand pop album, updated with a modern twist thanks to Turner's trademark lyricism. Far more than simply a tribute to an era of music gone by, and certainly not a half-arsed joke between a couple of friends, this record shows that Alex Turner's vision extends far beyond sweaty dancefloors on a Friday night.

#10: Editors - The Back Room/Cuttings (2005)

2008-04-25T20:00:00.001+01:00

The Back Room:

Lights
Munich
Blood
Fall
All Sparks
Camera
Fingers In The Factories
Bullets
Someone Says
Open Your Arms
Distance

Cuttings:

Let Your Good Heart Lead You Home
You Are Fading
Crawl Down The Wall
Colours
Release
Forest Fire

I won't beat about the bush: This is one of my favourite albums, full stop. Anyone who knows me will know of my love for Editors, a band who are important to me both musically and personally, so yes, this will probably turn out to be a bit gushing. I wouldn't normally cover bonus disc material, but in this case I feel like the 6-song collection that accompanied the limited edition of the album not only compliments the main album superbly, but stands up as a mini-album in its own right. In fact, it was so important that I own the two-disc set that I was compelled to buy a replacement copy after my brother lent it to a friend and never got it back (of all the CDs he could've lost...) - if you haven't heard it, then I'd absolutely recommend you get hold of the tracks somehow. And if you haven't heard this album at all... I'd say you're in for a treat - but then, of course I would. And go see them live too: They're even better than on record.

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Although they're often weighed down by inevitable comparisons to certain other bands that I probably don't even need to mention, in my opinion Editors can stand up as a great band in their own right. Their 2005 debut album, The Back Room, amply demonstrates what they are capable of, and then some.

The album jumps into things immediately with 'Lights', a frantic two an a half minutes that serve as a great introduction to Editors' sound: Powerful drumming and effects-laden guitars that provide a shimmering backdrop to Tom Smith's arresting baritone as he proclaims "If fortune favours the brave, I am as poor, poor as they come."

The album continues with further examples of this sound. 'Munich' and 'Blood' are each built around an infectious post-punk riff and an instantly memorable chorus hook: 'Munich' warns that "People are fragile things, you should know by now: Be careful what you put them through," while 'Blood' seethes with malice for a former friend or lover "Blood runs through your veins: That's where our similarity ends." It's this lyrical darkness that combines with the soaring guitars to make Editors such an intriguing proposition: Gloomily oppressive, yet at the same time oddly uplifting.

Critics of Editors' sound often falsely assume that the band are a one-trick pony, but they definitely have other cards up their sleeve. After the frantic pace of the first three tracks, 'Fall' demonstrates a more contemplative side, with the shimmering guitar effects sounding just as good when the band slow down the pace, and Tom's vocals sounding more thoughtful as he sings "I wanted to see this for myself." This style is continued on album centrepiece 'Camera', which begins with little more than a ghostly keyboard line before building up to an absolutely epic crescendo as the lyrics achingly ask "Look at us through the lens of a camera: Does it remove all of our pain?"

Elsewhere, 'All Sparks' combines a mid-tempo drive with a the message that "All sparks will burn out in the end" - a statement that could either be taken as a message of hope, or one of disappointment. 'Someone Says', returns to the crashing intensity of the opening three tracks, with the guitars taking on a minor key tone while the lyrics add to the sense of urgency: "I've got so much to tell you in so little time," intones Smith, as the song rushes towards its conclusion.

Even amongst all the doom and gloom, Editors can still pull off moments of euphoria. 'Fingers In The Factories' is a fists-in-the-air triumph that feels like a rousing rallying cry, while 'Bullets' is still one of the most emotionally charged three minutes of music I've ever heard. "You don't need this disease: Not right now," pleads Smith with a tear-stained hopefulness, before the guitars outdo themselves by soaring to ever greater heights as he repeats the refrain over and over, and you almost believe it more every time it's uttered from his mouth.

The album's most epic moment, however, comes with 'Open Your Arms'. It combines the best bits of everything that comes before it: The epicness of 'Camera', the heartfelt vocals of 'Bullets' and of course those sparkling guitars all combine in a massive wall of sound finale that eventually breaks down into minimal, ethereal album closer 'Distance'. It's oddly downbeat seems like a strange way to end such a high energy album, and yet it contains a little bit of hope: "I wish you all the best," is the earnest send-off from Smith, before the song shimmers and fades out of existence.

This fade-out works rather well to lead us into Cuttings, with 'Let Your Good Heart Lead You Home' starting out with a stripped-down guitar line before breaking into a crashing drumbeat that pounds relentlessly as the guitars build up around it. 'You Are Fading' follows much the same pattern, with Tom's melancholy vocals once again contrasting with the huge-sounding instrumentation.

'Crawl Down The Wall', meanwhile, sees him scraping himself from the depths of despair and contains one of my favourite choruses in any Editors song: "We'll see how this goes, we'll pull love from our lows," is just a perfect mix of confusion, desperation and hope. In contrast, 'Colours' feels like one of the band's poppier moments, seeming very upbeat compared to a lot of their other songs. It's a love song, but possibly an uncertain one: The lyrics contain mixed messages, with Tom telling his love that "You mean a lot to me, you've got a heart of gold," before telling her to "Fill your life with something else baby."

'Release' once again sees the band outdoing themselves in the epic stakes: It just sounds so massive that it's impossible not to be overwhelmed, and the simple, repeated refrain of "Release, find your peace my love," builds with a fervour that matches the rest of the song. Finally, in much the same way that 'Distance' provides a serene finale after 'Open Your Arms', 'Forest Fire' sits beautifully after the epic intensity of 'Release', once again ending proceedings with a message of hope: "I'll miss this when it's gone, let's not waste life, come on."

Overall, The Back Room and Cuttings are great records simply because of the level of intensity and emotion that they generate. Some may have tired of Editors in the years since this album's release, but not me: The same things still get me every time, whether it be the lyrics or that characteristically electrifying guitar tone. For people who judged the band purely on the singles, I can only encourage you to check out the rest of their material and see that there is a level of depth to this band beyond their (admittedly brilliant) dark and angular post-punk style. For those who are already converted, dig this album out again and stick it on - you owe it to yourself to get reacquainted with it.

(P.S: If that's not quite enough Editors for you, there's great depth in their B-sides beyond those included on Cuttings. I've gone on enough, but to throw some names out there: 'Find Yourself A Safe Place', 'Come Share The View', 'Heads In Bags' and their cover of Stereolab's 'French Disko' are particular highlights.)

#9: Radiohead - Kid A (2000)

2008-04-23T01:35:00.002+01:00

Everything In Its Right Place
Kid A
The National Anthem
How To Disappear Completely
Treefingers
Optimistic
In Limbo
Idioteque
Morning Bell
Motion Picture Soundtrack

You could argue that I should start covering Radiohead with OK Computer, but I figured it would be more in the spirit of this blog for me to look at an album of theirs that I'm less familiar with. Besides, Kid A was such a radical departure from OK Computer that it almost seems irrelevant which album I start with - so I'll begin with this, their first foray into a more electronic-based style of music.

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Radiohead's fourth album was, by all accounts, a difficult one to make. Spawned in part by writers block, overwhelming media attention, and depression, Kid A represented a huge and very conscious change for Radiohead, with the band abandoning their three-guitar lineup and replacing it with a myriad of electronic instruments and more besides.

It's clear from the very beginning that this is a very different record to OK Computer. Opening track 'Everything In Its Right Place' slowly swirls into being with a mesmeric synth line and warped, cut up vocals, before Thom Yorke's voice cuts through it with simple, repeated statements that are somewhat abstract and open to various different interpretations (a theme that continues throughout the album). The eponymous 'Kid A', meanwhile, sounds like a video game soundtrack recorded underwater, with vocals that are little more than a computerised burble.

Things almost begin to sound a little bit more 'normal' on 'The National Anthem': The song begins with a fuzzy bassline and the first 'real' drums we've heard on the record so far. However, even this is shot through with electronic effects, and Yorke's vocal is once again twisted slightly, yet still recognisable. Then the brass kicks in, with scattershot trumpets and parping horns eventually spiralling off into wild, unpredictable patterns, contrasting brilliantly with the rhythm section, which remains resolutely in time throughout.

'How To Disappear Completely', however, takes the record in a completely different direction. Underpinned by an acoustic guitar, strings swoonsomely rise and fall around Thom's vocal as he sings "I'm not here, this isn't happening...", craving the escape that the title suggests. 'Treefingers' maintains the calm vibe, with its minimal ambience almost acting like an extended interlude before the second half of the album.

'Optimistic' kicks things back into gear with probably the record's most conventional song, built on a simple guitar riff and a steady, pounding beat. But even this track shows the band's newfound love for electronic sounds, with an eerie synth looming in the background as Thom tells us that "You can try the best you can... the best you can is good enough." The record then changes direction once again: 'In Limbo' brings back the ambient swirling sounds, but layers them superbly with a clean guitar line, an understated drumbeat, and Thom's distorted, echoy vocals before the whole thing becomes distorted and eventually fades into static.

'Idioteque' shocks things back into life with what is probably the best synthetic percussive noise ever, forming the basis for an electronic drumbeat that runs throughout the song as sampled chords hum like haunting guitar feedback. Whatever the song is talking about, be it nuclear war, global warming or something else entirely, Thom's urgent vocal assures us that "We're not scaremongering: This is really happening," adding to the song's sense of oppressiveness and intensity. Its outro leads seamlessly into 'Morning Bell', where tight drumming and an aquatic-sounding synth suddenly give way to buzzing guitars - which then leave just as suddenly.

'Motion Picture Soundtrack' ends the record on an almost dream-like note, with a reedy organ and sparkling harps underscoring a gentle vocal from Thom, although in contrast the lyrics can be interpreted somewhat darkly ("I will see you in the next life..."). After the song finishes, there's a pause, and then the harps return amongst almost choral sounds in what isn't so much a hidden track as a delayed outro to the album as a whole.

While Kid A may be a vastly different proposition to the album that preceded it, that doesn't make it any less of a success. Every track seems to attempt something different, and while this means that some songs stand out more than others, the record still manages to flow as a cohesive whole. It's the perfect example of why it's foolish to write a band off just because they've decided to change: It may have disappointed those who hoped that the band would be saviours of rock, but this album proved that Radiohead have ideas by the bucketload and talent to spare.

#8: ¡Forward, Russia! - Life Processes (2008)

2008-04-21T01:15:00.003+01:00

Welcome To The Moment (The Rest Of Your Life)
We Are Grey Matter
A Prospector Can Dream
Spring Is A Condition
Don't Reinvent What You Don't Understand
Some Buildings
Breaking Standing
Gravity & Heat
Fosbury In Discontent
A Shadow Is A Shadow Is A Shadow
Spanish Triangles

Yes, two recent albums in a row again, but in fairness they both came out last Monday so by covering them now I'm keeping this blog cool and relevant. Or something like that. Anyhow, ¡Forward, Russia!: I loved the first album, so I was greatly looking forward (haha) to the follow-up. Those of you expecting Give Me A Wall mk.2, however, might want to cast aside those preconceptions...

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It's been almost two years since ¡Forward, Russia! unleashed their debut album on the world, and their follow-up, Life Processes, proves to be a quite different beast, but just as accomplished nonetheless.

The album begins on (almost) familiar territory: 'Welcome To The Moment (The Rest Of Your Life)' sounds more like Give Me A Wall than anything else you'll hear on this album, but even during its frantic two minutes you can feel it straining, striving for something more epic. Follow-up 'We Are Grey Matter' starts out in an uncharacteristically restrained manner, with an echoy "Call! Response!" refrain and a minimal synth line, before a disco drumbeat kicks in. It's only after a minute or so that those characteristic guitars return, along with a shout of "Let me make this fucking clear! I've got a landmine attached to my leg!" which ironically doesn't make things clear at all.

Indeed, Tom Woodhead's lyrics are still as enigmatic and cryptic as ever, but intriguingly this time they seem to be shot through with references to the bible. For example, on 'A Prospector Can Dream' he asks: "Did you ever study the Israelites? They made a new life for themselves with such a peculiar change." Not your average Friday night conversation down the pub then, but yet within all the oddball metaphors there are some lyrics that stick out as meaningful: "We could be something in a new location!" could be a rallying cry for people stuck in dead-end towns everywhere.

It's evident that the band were full of ideas when recording this album, and it shows with their ability to cram multiple ideas into the space of a single song. 'Spring Is A Condition' combines brooding intensity with a purposeful, earnest chorus and some electrifying guitar work before throwing in some video game synth noises in for good measure, while 'Don't Reinvent What You Don't Understand' mixes jerky math-rock riffs with shimmering guitars to great effect.

'Breaking Standing' seems like the album's most accessible, almost poppy moment, with guitars that sparkle and shine - even in the heavier parts of the song they feel a little restrained, allowing Tom's vocal to take centre stage with memorable hooks such as "When it weighs too much, think of it as seven times the weight." It made sense as a first single, and it sits well in between the weightiness of 'Some Buildings' and 'Gravity & Heat'. The former is an epic slow-burner that once again breaks out the biblical references ("Ashes to ashes! Dust to dust! Jesus Christ and Lazerus!"), while the latter spends six minutes lurching brilliantly between heavy metal riffing and swathes of reverb-laden guitar. The heavy metal guitars also feature on 'A Shadow Is A Shadow Is A Shadow', which must surely be considered a pioneer as far as songs that contain the phrase "pitchfork-wielding mess" are concerned.

However, if you thought the rest of the album was a departure for the band, then 'Fosbury In Discontent' will provide even more of a shock: Consisting of little more than a piano and Tom's plaintive vocal, it's an unexpectedly tender moment amongst the intensity of the rest of the record. The album's ambition truly comes to fruition with another great departure, closing track 'Spanish Triangles': A nine-minute epic that builds steadily from an understated drumbeat and sparse, echoing guitar to a towering, majestic soundscape for Tom's yearning vocals to soar above. The lyrics achingly remind us that "We all have our moments!" - and this is certainly one of ¡Forward, Russia!'s best yet.

So, while the tracklisting of Life Processes warns against reinventing what you don't understand, there should be no such worries when it comes to this album. ¡Forward, Russia! have managed to create a record that's very different from Give It A Wall without losing sight of what made them such a great band in the first place: Their relentless intensity and Tom's crazed vocal theatrics are still very much in place here. Rest assured, the band still understand how to make not just one great song, but an album full of them.

#7: Blood Red Shoes - Box Of Secrets (2008)

2008-04-19T16:00:00.002+01:00

Doesn't Matter Much
You Bring Me Down
Try Harder
Say Something, Say Anything
I Wish I Was Someone Better
Take The Weight
ADHD
This Is Not For You
It's Getting Boring By The Sea
Forgive Nothing
Hope You're Holding Up

Honestly, it wasn't deliberate... but much like this album, this review is better slightly late than never, right? I've really got to try and start working ahead again... anyway, Blood Red Shoes are a brilliant live band who make a far louder noise than just two people ever should, and their album finally came out this week.

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It's been a long time coming, (due to record label issues more than anything else) but at last the debut album from Blood Red Shoes is finally here. But has it been worth the wait?

'Doesn't Matter Much' kicks the album off as it means to go on: With a grungy guitar riff, pounding drums and a simple, catchy chorus. Next up is re-recorded version of 'You Bring Me Down' that ads a touch of polish and a dash of anger to an already sublime slice of intense guitar pop. The rest of the band's previous singles are also present and sounding better than ever. 'I Wish I Was Someone Better' barrels along at 100 mph, thrashed out guitars and incessant drumming underlying a simple, non-ironic message of, well, wanting to be someone better, while 'It's Getting Boring By The Sea' combines reverb-laden guitar stabs with the frustration of hometown boredom - "You can't escape anything in this town" is surely a sentiment that many can relate to, regardless of whether they're from a seaside town or not.

'Take The Weight' slows the pace a little without removing any of the band's intensity, and the band even prove they can do vocal styles other than 'shouty' with an a cappella round towards the end of the song. Of course, the brattishness returns in style on 'ADHD', with Laura-Mary shouting "Now now now now now now now now boy!" as Steven distractedly tells us that "I'm so bored I can't think straight."

It might seem like an odd word to use to describe a Blood Red Shoes song, but if the band has a 'tender' moment then 'This Is Not For You' is it. Dealing with a failed relationship, it sees Laura-Mary show a much more melodic side to her voice as she tells her former lover "I don't want you to think I do the things I do because of you," before wearily deciding to "pretend that everything is just fine." They can't contain their anger for long though, and the song's climax sees them crank the volume up as Steven's howl provides a perfect contrast to Laura-Mary's melodies.

The band have evidently got a lot of bile to spew: 'Try Harder' mockingly sneers at scenesters ("We'll change our hairdye! We'll change our footwear! We'll change our ideas to fit what magazines say!") while 'Forgive Nothing' is arguably the album's most bitter moment, with Laura-Mary seething "Forgiving nothing is being kind: You turned your back and you left your spine!"

The album's most emotionally charged moment comes with 'Say Something, Say Anything': Steven's personal tribute to his father's death from cancer, his vocals sound raw and cracked before finally breaking down into a cry of "How long can you miss someone?" - again, a sentiment that's easy to relate to, and a moving one at that.

After all the anger, frustration and bitterness that permeates the record, 'Hope You're Holding Up' acts as both a glimmer of hope and an olive branch to lost friends or former lovers ("I hope you're holding up, I don't see you too much"). It also ends the album on a reflective note, with Laura-Mary pondering "Looking for reasons, it's hard to see: Would I change this for you, or change it for me?" before the song gently fades out into nothing more than breathy "aah"s.

Some may argue that Blood Red Shoes are a one-trick pony, and while this album doesn't feel like it's actively striving to quash these claims, there's plenty happening here to keep me interested. Box Of Secrets demonstrates that there's enough depth and energy in their girl/boy/guitar/drums style to last them for an entire album, with songs like 'Take The Weight', 'This Is Not For You' and 'Hope You're Holding Up' being different enough to prevent the record from becoming monotonous while managing not to stick out like a sore thumb alongside the rapid-fire singles. It's not really clear to me where they might go from here, but it's definitely a good thing that this record has finally seen the light of day. So, to answer my own question: Worth the wait? Absolutely.

#6: Rage Against The Machine - Rage Against The Machine (1992)

2008-04-17T00:30:00.002+01:00

Bombtrack
Killing In The Name
Take The Power Back
Settle For Nothing
Bullet In The Head
Know Your Enemy
Wake Up
Fistful Of Steel
Township Rebellion
Freedom

As they're headlining on Saturday at Leeds Festival and it's not entirely unlikely that I'll end up seeing some or all of their set (depending on how things look once the full lineup is announced), I figured I may as well delve into Rage Against The Machine's back catalogue a little: And where better to start than with their self-titled debut? This review is perhaps a little shorter than I'd like, so sorry if it feels a bit half-arsed.

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Rage Against The Machine are a band as known as much for their outspoken political stance as they are for their music - and that's because, for them, the two go hand in hand. Take album-opener 'Bombtrack', for instance: Combining a clean but heavy guitar funk that just makes you want to bounce with angry, almost anarchical lyrics, with the intent being to "make punks take another look," as Zack puts it.

This leads into one of the bands most recognisable songs, 'Killing In The Name': Its simple, repeated hooks see de la Roche raging against white supremacy groups, before screaming the iconic anti-authority chant of "Fuck you I won't do what you tell me!" It's clear that that he's got a lot to be angry about, with each subsequent song tackling a different theme. 'Take The Power Back' tackles corrupt education systems, while 'Settle For Nothing' is a stark tale of broken homes and gang culture. 'Township Rebellion' rails against apathy and apartheid, while 'Wake Up' and 'Freedom' are both massive rallying cries that each end with Zack screaming the title repeatedly down the mic.

With all this talk of politics, it's easy to let the music take a back seat - but Rage aren't just a political soapbox. For example, amongst all the lyrical fire of 'Bullet In The Head' there's one hell of a funky, understated bass riff, while the jerky, staccato guitar at the start of 'Know Your Enemy' sounds like a series of little electric shocks - in a totally awesome way, of course. Morello even shows off some 'special effects' during 'Fistful Of Steel', first making his guitar sound like a siren, and then pulling off turntable-style scratch solos on it. It's not the only song to feature oddball guitar effects, with the beginning of 'Township Rebellion' sounding almost like a didgeridoo.

Another thing that might be easy to overlook if you focus too much on the lyrics is the fact that de la Roche's vocals do a lot to complement the music. When he's spitting out his messages in a rapid, aggressive style, his vocals always flow well. And while his default emotional setting appears to be 'angry', he often lets his rage seethe under the surface during the slower, quieter moments before letting out raw, explosive screams when the band turn up the volume.

Rage Against The Machine is an unrelentingly heavy listen, and can start to drag towards the end of its 53-minute running time. But at the end of the day, you can approach this album in one of two ways. Either you can delve into their lyrics and the politics behind it all and hold the band up as a voice for change screaming "WAKE UP!" at the world from the rooftops... or you can simply whack 'Killing In The Name' on and jump around, shouting along in appreciation of the band's weighty funk. Perhaps I'm being a bit shallow, but the latter option seems like a lot more fun to me.

#5: Los Campesinos! - Hold On Now, Youngster... (2008)

2008-04-15T00:00:00.009+01:00

Death To Los Campesinos!
Broken Heartbeats Sound Like Breakbeats
Don't Tell Me To Do The Math(s)
Drop It Doe Eyes
My Year In Lists
Knee Deep At ATP
This Is How You Spell, "Hahaha, We Destroyed The Hopes And Dreams Of A Generation Of Faux-Romantics"
We Are All Accelerated Readers
You! Me! Dancing!
...And We Exhale And Roll Our Eyes In Unison
Sweet Dreams, Sweet Cheeks
2007: The Year Punk Broke (My Heart)

I hadn't intended to do two albums from this year in a row, but I ended up half-starting about four reviews and this was the one that fleshed itself out the most before the deadline. Five albums in and I'm already struggling, oh dear... on the bright side, this is a fantastic record, and barring some freak slew of amazing releases in the remainder of the year, it'll almost certainly be in my top ten albums released in 2008.

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Welsh septet Los Campesinos! seem diametrically opposed to the style of indie music that has become ubiquitous in recent months, (and you suspect that they know it too) - which makes their debut LP Hold On Now, Youngster... a refreshing alternative for those who might feel that "Four sweaty boys with guitars tell me nothing about my life!"

After a few brief guitar strums, the album barrels into life at full speed with 'Death To Los Campesinos!'. The guitars squeal and squeak with an undeniable rawness, and the song's point/counterpoint boy/girl vocals and liberal use of glockenspiel are themes that continue throughout the album. The energy doesn't let up, as 'Broken Heartbeats Sound Like Breakbeats' continues proceedings with a giant shout of "One! Two! Three! Four!" before a joyful guitar line kicks in. The song's outro leads seamlessly into the gentle violin and glockenspiel intro of 'Don't Tell Me To Do The Math(s)', briefly slowing things down to let us catch our breath before another jolt of guitar brings things back to life.

While the first three tracks showcase the band's boundless energy, their lyrics can seem a little nonsensical and vague (although nonetheless containing some great one-liners). However, things get a bit more structured on 'Drop It Doe Eyes': The song charts the deterioration of a relationship, with Gareth "Drawing tiny little pictures of skeletons to get across the sense of impending doom," before resigning himself to the realisation that "not even two gospel choirs could save us now," as the song reaches a chaotic climax. 'My Year In Lists', meanwhile, manages to cram problems with long-distance love letters, a rant against the new year, and the brilliantly bitter kiss-off "I cherish with fondness the day (before) I met you" into less than two minutes of unrelentingly brilliant twee angst. And while the exact situation that inspired 'Knee Deep At ATP' may not be familiar to most listeners, the overall theme of discovering that you're second-best when it comes to someone's affections surely has a far wider resonance (and is summed up beautifully by the line "And when our eyes meet, all that I can read is "You're the B-side."")

Indeed, this album deals with heartache on a a very cynical, personal level. Not only is 'This Is How You Spell, "Hahaha, We Destroyed The Hopes And Dreams Of A Generation Of Faux-Romantics"' a frontrunner for best song title of the year, it also contains the most sublime spoken-word section I've heard in a song since... well, 'You! Me! Dancing!' actually, but before that 'You Could Have Both' by The Long Blondes. It's also a fantastically bitter breakup song, and the rejection of love continues on 'We Are All Accelerated Readers', with Gareth declaring that "the opposite of true love is as follows: Reality!" It's not all post-teenage heartache though: '...And We Exhale And Roll Our Eyes In Unison' sees the band hitting out at sexism in the music industry, while 'You! Me! Dancing!' is simply one of the most joyous, sprawling 7-minute pop songs that you'll hear all year.

The album almost feels like it has two closing tracks. First comes 'Sweet Dreams, Sweet Cheeks', a song that somehow sums up all the jaded bitterness that permeates the record as a whole, condensing it into three and a half minutes of rapid-fire intensity before breaking into a desperate, yet somehow hopeful chant of "One blink for yes, two blinks for no, sweet dreams sweet cheeks, we leave alone!" - it's a real lump in throat moment. There's a deliberate lull, and then 'hidden' track '2007: The Year Punk Broke (My Heart)' kicks in: Beginning sparsely and with simple, sentimental lyrics, it then builds into a gigantic instrumental finale, serving as a beautiful epilogue to all that's gone before it.

The brilliance of Hold On Now, Youngster... lies in its juxtaposition of upbeat instrumentation that's almost twee in places with fantastically bitter lyrics and a breathless sense of energy. It's also worth noting again how well Aleksandra's sweetly-sung lyrics contrast with the half-spoken, half-sung vocals of Gareth, with the rest of the band more than willing to contribute when the volume needs turning up. For me, the lyrics are the true star of the show: I've pointed out a few examples, but I could probably write a whole article simply quoting lyrics that I like from this record. Some may find that the shouty vocals and knowing 'indieness' become too much to bear, but for me this is an amazing debut record and certainly an early contender for album of the year.

#4: Does It Offend You, Yeah? - You Have No Idea What You're Getting Yourself Into (2008)

2008-04-13T00:00:00.002+01:00

Battle Royale
With A Heavy Heart (I Regret To Inform You)
We Are Rockstars
Dawn Of The Dead
Doomed Now
Attack Of The 60 Ft Lesbian Octopus
Let's Make Out
Being Bad Feels Pretty Good
Weird Science
Epic Last Song

Not much to say about this one - I pre-ordered the album in the hope of being able to listen to it before their gig in Newcastle at the end of March, but due to my stupidly small letterbox (yes, really) I didn't get to hear it until afterwards. I've seen them live a few times, so comparisons between the record and the live show are inevitable. This review somehow feels like a bit of a cop-out, but as I'd half-written it in my head already there doesn't seem to be much point in delaying it, particularly as they're very much a band of the moment.

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Does It Offend You, Yeah? are the type of band who attract the ire of some music fans merely for their David Brent inspired moniker. But would they be right to direct the same negativity towards their music? While You Have No Idea What You're Getting Yourself Into may provide fuel for the fire for some, for me it's a decent, if ultimately somewhat shallow record.

It's fair to say this is an album of two halves, the first half being the type of song that first brought them to my attention some months ago: It only seems appropriate that the album begins with such as song (the first one they ever wrote, in fact). 'Battle Royale' is a straightforward electro-rock number built around simple synth riffs and pounding beats: Lacking subtlety and hardly containing a great deal of substance, but good fun nonetheless. At the other end of the album, 'Weird Science' pulls much the same trick, albeit with more going on in general and synths that sound like a malfunctioning robot gargling sludge. 'We Are Rockstars' also comes from the same stable, with the twist being that it features warped vocals that take a jab at Internet posers: "Where's your real friends now? You have let them down, you're a download pal." However, it's this song that loses the most in the transition from the live stage, with the shouts of "Yeah!" sounding muted and the impact of the song's crunching riffs somehow lost a little.

The second half of this album, on the other hand, feels like it wants to be a synth-pop album. This is first evidenced on 'Dawn Of The Dead', which features a semi-memorable hook and some potentially moving sentiment, but not a lot else of note. 'Being Bad Feels Pretty Good' suffers much the same fate, starting out well enough with a searing guitar riff but then managing to drift by without making much of an impact. Their best shot at this type of track comes with album-closer 'Epic Last Song': It's still not their most memorable of tracks, but it feels more fleshed out compared to the other two similar efforts, with the elements of the song combining to create a decent take on synth-pop. Overall though, this direction doesn't feel as successful as their other tracks - they're the kind of songs that are perfectly listenable, but if you didn't know who they were by you probably wouldn't care enough to find out.

Sometimes, however, the songs fall between these two camps, or even somewhere else entirely. 'Doomed Now' sounds a bit like Devo's 'Whip It' covered by androids from a post-apocalyptic future, while 'Attack Of The 60 Ft Lesbian Octopus' is a bizarre interlude, caught somewhere between an 80's TV show theme and 90's video game pastiche. 'Let's Make Out', meanwhile, is a vicious, sexed up, cowbell-thrashing beast, which by the end has synths glitching all over the place and Morgan positively screaming out the vocals (something which is lost in the live performance, making this song a little better on record in my opinion).

Their best tune though, is 'With A Heavy Heart (I Regret To Inform You)'. It sits closer to the first school of songs with its heavy bassline and stabs of guitar, while vocals wail distortedly before cries of "Oh God" build up like a cross between an orgasm and a mental breakdown - and then the song goes berserk with the spasm-inducing sound of crunching guitars and synths aborting themselves.

Some might argue that there's not much longevity in this band. But does it matter? This is a record that makes sense now, in a post-'new rave' climate, and the band aren't particularly setting their stall out to become some sort of legends. The only ears Does It Offend You, Yeah? are going to be offending are those of parents across the country, and possibly those who prefer their music with a bit more depth or lasting sentiment. For everyone else, this is simply a fun record to listen to, have a dance around to if the mood takes you, and then probably forget about shortly afterwards.

#3: Guns N' Roses - Appetite For Destruction (1987)

2008-04-11T00:00:00.003+01:00

Welcome To The Jungle
It's So Easy
Nightrain
Out Ta Get Me
Mr. Brownstone
Paradise City
My Michelle
Think About You
Sweet Child O' Mine
You're Crazy
Anything Goes
Rocket Queen

With my knowledge of the band and genre being rather limited, this is perhaps not the type of album I'd expected to cover so soon (even though it was suggested to me early on). However, as Zane Lowe recently chose it as part of the second round of his 'Masterpieces' series, I figured I may as well strike while the iron was hot (if only because listening back to the show was a lazy alternative to getting hold of the album by other means). Ironically, this review is also timely for another reason: Reports emerged yesterday that Axl Rose has finally finished the forever-delayed Chinese Democracy album and handed it over to his label. I'll be honest, this review was difficult to write at first, with my first listen to the album leaving me clueless as to what the hell to say. I guess I'm not entirely happy with it, but well... you be the judge.

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Appetite For Destruction is Guns N' Roses first, and arguably most famous work: Chances are, if you ask someone with only a casual knowledge of the band (like me) to name a Guns N' Roses song, it'd probably come from this album. Three of the bands biggest and most instantly familiar hits appear here: Namely, 'Welcome To The Jungle', 'Paradise City' and 'Sweet Child Of Mine'.

Let's get those three out of the way then, shall we? 'Welcome To The Jungle' kicks off the album with that signature guitar shred, before Axl Rose screeches "Welcome to the jungle! We've got fun and games!" Not the literal jungle, of course, but the urban sprawl of LA, where Rose moved during his teenage years in search of fame and fortune. But like all these things, the high life comes at a price, and Rose warns "You can taste the bright lights, but you won't get them for free."

On the other hand, the almost country-esque twang that begins 'Paradise City' seems oddly incongruous, but after a brief synth-laden interlude it gives way to the the usual hard rock guitar. Lyrically, the song sees the search for fame in the big city weighing heavy on Rose's heart, longing for a place where "the grass is green and the girls are pretty" before begging "won't you please take me home?" - a refrain that's repeated over and over as the song spirals rapidly towards it's climax.

'Sweet Child O' Mine' needs even less introduction: Its opening guitar riff surely embedded in the memory to the point where hearing it produces either instant elation or a sigh of over-familiarity. Lyrically, it's a pretty straightforward love song and probably the album's most sentimental moment. There's even a little musical restraint shown during the "where do we go now?" breakdown, before the band bust out the obligatory massive finale.

So, what is there beyond that then? Well, musically, it's pretty much more of the same. Subtlety be damned, it's all about primal, pounding drumbeats and bombastic, heavy rock guitar riffs. Slash's guitar solos wail out in a level of self-indulgent rock n' roll excess reflected in the lyrical themes of the songs. 'Nightrain' is the sound of the band fired up on cheap booze, while 'Mr. Brownstone' depicts an escalating drug habit. 'It's So Easy' sees the band's new-found fame effortlessly attracting women, while the final two tracks seem to deal with an almost voracious sexual appetite. 'Anything Goes' is three and half minutes of unrestrained lust that's pretty much as the title suggests, while 'Rocket Queen' sees Rose proclaiming "I might be a little young, but honey I ain't naïve." And that's before the sex noises kick in: Depending on which rumours you believe, they could have come from any one of a number of sources. However, it also ends the album on an oddly tender note: As the song draws to a close, Rose tells his queen that "All I ever wanted was for you to know that I care."

It's not the album's only caring moment though - along with 'Sweet Child O' Mine', 'Think About You' also contains some oddly touching lyrics - well, as touching as they can be when set against such a weighty, frantic backdrop. Even 'My Michelle', despite its stark portrayal of a girl the band once knew, contains a little hope: "Honey don't stop tryin' and you'll get what you'll deserve."

Overall, Appetite For Destruction isn't rocket science, but it never claims to be. The manifesto is simple: Sex, Drugs, and Rock n' Roll - and like that combination, it's fun while it lasts, but to overexpose yourself to it means you run the risk of burnout. Guns N' Roses aren't particularly the kind of band I'd go out of my way to listen to, and hearing this album in full hasn't done much to change that. But now, at least, I have a little more understanding as to why they have such a great appeal.

#2: Foals - Antidotes (2008)

2008-04-09T00:00:00.002+01:00

The French Open
Cassius
Red Socks Pugie
Olympic Airways
Electric Bloom
Balloons
Heavy Water
Two Steps Twice
Big Big Love (Fig. 2)
Like Swimming
Tron

After the lengthy introduction that preceded the previous review, I move to an album without much context behind it, apart from the fact that I still haven't seen the band live yet. Foals probably don't need too much introduction, having exploded in popularity at the start of the year (this album made the top 3 of the UK charts on the week of its release). It may be a recent album, but it's still a damn good one.

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Foals are a band of opposites - immediate, but with an underlying depth to them, and combining a level of math-rock intricacy that reminds me of Battles with pop sensibilities to make an easily accessible album that's also incredibly rewarding.

Those pop sensibilities come to the forefront most obviously on recent singles 'Cassius' and 'Balloons', with instantly catchy guitar lines, funky bass, memorable lyrical hooks and brass twiddles. 'Red Socks Pugie', meanwhile, feels rhythmically like Bloc Party on fast forward, contrasting with soaring instrumentation and almost yearning lyrics ("These heart-swells, oh, which make us explode.")

When they're not creating jerky math-pop classics, the band demonstrate a more relaxed side without losing any of their intensity. 'Olympic Airways' features tender vocals and a more chilled-out vibe, yet it maintains a sense of drive thanks to understated but incessant drumming. 'Electric Bloom' continues this style, and is a particular highlight: 5 minutes of blissed-out melancholy that sounds like it was built on the guitar riff from the end of Jimmy Eat World's 'Cautioners'.

Even within a single song, the band's music evolves and changes. 'Heavy Water', as it's title suggests, is a weighty, deliberate affair, starting out with a slow and dream-like feel that transforms into an intense dance-rock number, before ending with jazzy trumpet blasts. Meanwhile, 'Two Steps Twice' pulls off the feat of becoming an entirely different song about halfway through: Staccato vocals and intricately woven guitars give in to a massive building chant that eventually becomes an anthemic indie floor-filler. 'Big Big Love (Fig. 2)' also manages effortless feats of metamorphosis, with the song switching between a riff similar to that in 'Electric Bloom' and another riff laden with Interpol/Editors style guitar effects, with the rest of the instrumentation undergoing a seamless transition along with it.

The handclap-laden, aquatic-sounding swirls of 'Like Swimming' break down into little more than buzzes of static that serve as a perfect introduction to 'Tron', a song that has an epic air of finality to it that's fitting for an album closer. It also has a darker feel to it than most of the other songs, with frontman Yannis warning "If something won't heal, comforts can't help you out" as the music builds ominously around him, before a blast of trumpets ends the album as it began.

The lyrics are more cryptic in some places than others, but they seem to deal with escapism ("Let's go to an aviary far from home") and the chaos of modern life ("These wasp's nests in your head"). The band also pull the trick of making them feel like they're being used as another instrument, math-rock style. This is most notable during 'The French Open', where short, repeated chants add as much to the sense of rhythm as everything else in the song does.

The great thing about the songs as a whole is that each time you listen to them you can pick out something different: An understated bassline, little guitar fills that add depth to the song, a relentlessly intense drumbeat, or a lyric that really hits home. Not only will the songs grab you from the first listen, they'll also make you want to come back for more in order to gain a greater understanding of them.

Overall, I personally feel that it's difficult to find fault with Antidotes: Foals have made an instantly brilliant album that also stands up to repeated listens, and because of that this album will certainly be deserving of any accolades thrust upon it at the end of the year.

#1: The Velvet Underground - The Velvet Underground & Nico (1967)

2008-04-07T02:15:00.006+01:00

Sunday Morning
I'm Waiting For The Man
Femme Fatale
Venus In Furs
Run Run Run
All Tomorrow's Parties
Heroin
There She Goes Again
I'll Be Your Mirror
The Black Angel's Death Song
European Son

Well, where better to start than with one of the bands that is partially responsible for inspiring this project? Although not for the reasons you might think if you're a fan of the band - it's actually because I'd barely listened to them up until now. You see, when talking about music, honesty tends to get the better of me - so I'm not going to pretend to love a band I know barely anything about. Therefore, when a friend asked me (in a rhetorical manner): "Who doesn't love The Velvet Underground?" I foolishly replied "Um, me?" Not because I hated, or even remotely disliked the band, but simply because to say I liked them would be a lie, as I was pretty much totally ignorant about them at the time. In hindsight I should probably have just kept my mouth shut, but hey, we're here now, and this blog was partially inspired by similar exchanges with... well, some people more than others, but pretty much anyone I ever talked to about music. (Yes, the irony is not lost on me.)

I'm often confused and/or overwhelmed as to where to start with artists if their discography consists of more than 3 or 4 albums. Thankfully, this wasn't too much of a problem with The Velvet Underground as they 'only' have 5 albums to their name. Having discovered that Squeeze (largely made by only one member of the band, Doug Yule) and Loaded (significantly different to their previous material) wouldn't be particularly representative starting points, it seemed sensible to begin at the beginning.

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It might seem a little pointless for me to write about this, one of the most influential records of all time. But it's taken me long enough to get round to listening to it, and so I feel there's some worth in sharing the experience of a first time listener.

The album eases into existence with 'Sunday Morning', the twinkling chimes of the main instrumental hook (played on a 'celesta': An instrument most famously used in Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker Suite) providing a little hope amongst the melancholy comedown from the night before. "Watch out, the world's behind you", Lou Reed warns in an almost nonchalent, yet heavy-hearted manner, perfectly capturing the feeling of having the weight of the world on your shoulders. It seems odd, thematically, to begin an album so based around drugs with a comedown, 'morning after' song, but it works perfectly.

'I'm Waiting For The Man' transports us back to 60's New York with a straightforward tale of trying to score heroin in Harlem. Lyrically honest and with a steady driving rhythm, it feels like one of the album's more easily accessible songs. 'There She Goes Again' is another track that's easy to appreciate with its bluesy jangle and vocal harmonies, but it's perhaps not as lyrically straightforward: Does "You'd better hit her" infer physical violence or a more metaphorical need to snap out of something?

'Venus In Furs', on the other hand, is a far more challenging listen. Build on a discordant guitar drone and stabs of violent strings, the whole song has the air of someone in a trance - and that's before considering the lyrics, a dark tale of sadomasochism sung in an equally trance-like manner. (Upon further research, it seems the song is inspired by the book 'Venus In Furs' by Baron Sadler-Masoch.) However, once you get over the initial shock and play the track a few more times, it becomes a mesmerising masterpiece. 'The Black Angel's Death Song' is another difficult listen, due to the almost grating viola that, for me, just detracts from the song as a whole. Far be it for me to be criticising a band that's held in such high regard, but I have to wonder what an acoustic version (sans viola) might sound like - as it stands, it's my least favourite song on the album. Following this and closing the album is 'European Son', which feels like the ultimate antithesis of modern math-rock - any semblance of order and precision thrown out of the window after the first minute in favour of seven minutes of frantic, almost masturbatory instrumental chaos.

Given the period it was recorded in, it's not surprising that the album is shot through with drug references: 'Heroin' being the most obvious, a crash course for the innocent in the highs and lows of the titular substance. The track's throbbing drums sound like the heartbeat of an addict - slow during the comedowns but rapidly increasing in pace as the drug hits. The rest of the instrumentation parallels this, melancholy and thoughtful during the slower sections, but speeding up during the 'highs', eventually to the point of disarray as the drug finally takes over. 'Run Run Run', meanwhile, seems to explore the colourful characters of the drug scene: And I suspect that the title isn't just referring to using your legs.

Of course, the album wouldn't be titled as it is without the appearance of German chanteuse Nico, and she provides vocals on three tracks. When you first hear her on 'Femme Fatale', the contrast between her vocals and those of Reed can seem jarring: It takes a couple of listens to appreciate what her breathy performance and inflected accent add to the song. Her Teutonic vocals return on 'All Tomorrow's Parties', her low-pitched tone combining with methodical percussion to give the song an almost medieval sound that's dragged into the present by a guitar line that sparkles incessantly. The song itself seems like a requiem for material excess and a lifestyle that can't hide the emptiness of "Thursday's child". 'I'll Be Your Mirror' is the final track to feature Nico. A tender, melancholy love song that certainly holds some personal poignancy for me, it's about insecurity and trying to show other people the good that's in them. In my opinion, it's the best of the tracks that feature Nico.

While the album is rooted in the drug-fuelled haze of the late 60's, some of the lyrics still seem ironically relevant to today's 'indie' culture: Girls wearing "a hand-me-down dress from who knows where" and boys who "want to make love to the scene". Of course, the true magic of the album for many will surely be that it gives them a window into a world they've never lived. But while the record might inspire romantic notions of a hedonistic life in 60's America for some, it's also a cautionary tale that details the lows as well as the highs.

One other thing I noticed about the album as a whole is that tracks often seemed to fade out too soon. It's a minor nitpick that's easy to forgive given that the album was made nearly forty years ago, but it makes the transitions between some songs seem a little forced.

In my opinion, The Velvet Underground & Nico is a record that takes a little getting into, but once you do it's largely a rewarding collection of great songs. Everyone will have their own personal likes and dislikes: Some may find Nico's vocals difficult to listen to, but I've got over that and learned to appreciate them. My personal limit comes with the final two tracks: 'The Black Angel's Death Song' is ruined by the tuneless strings, and the psychedelic wig-out of 'European Son' drags on a little too long for my liking. However, the rest of the album is brilliant and deserving of the classic status it has gained, with my personal highlights being 'Sunday Morning', 'Venus In Furs', 'Heroin', and 'I'll Be Your Mirror'. There's little point in me attempting to pass any further critical judgement: This has probably been said before, but it's one of those albums that everyone should listen to in order to make up their own mind.

Introduction.

2008-04-06T16:25:00.014+01:00

This is a project born of many things: A need to discover music both new and old, a need to form opinions of music, a desire to share music I already love with others, wanting to overcome feelings of musical ignorance, hopes of becoming a music journalist (failing that at least I can pretend), boredom, and buying cheap albums from HMV.

I had originally conceived this as 'An Album A Day', but I quickly realised that trying to listen to and write about seven albums every week was over-ambitious if I wanted to maintain some sort of semblance of quality, and that's before I take into account my inherent laziness. And so I changed it to 'An Album Every (Other) Day': By halving my workload, not only will I have more time to write about each album, I'll hopefully be able to use my off-days to build up a buffer of albums that I can use when things get too busy.

I hesitate to call the writings that will appear here 'reviews', although I can't think of a better word right now. I don't plan on including some arbitrary scoring system to rank the albums with (unless people really want that?), and my experiences with music will always be influenced by my own personal life, meaning I won't always be truly objective about things. I hope to keep things quite varied, writing about an album I've just listened to for the first time one day, then re-visiting an album I love the next, and then maybe looking back at an album that I own but haven't listened to that much.

Updates will run on a two week schedule:

Week 1: Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Sunday

Week 2: Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday

If that gets too confusing, just remember that I'll update every other day (as the title suggests). So as long as it's been more than a couple of days since your last visit, there'll be something new to read (most of the time anyway).

That's all for now, the first update will be tomorrow. Feel free to leave comments or suggestions of albums I should write about below: This is about musical discovery, after all.