Golden Silvers's superb single True Romance - the essence of Wham's Club Tropicana and Haircut 100's Favourite Shirts distilled into four funky LCD Soundsystem minutes - is not a one-off. This eclectic debut continues the mood of excited rediscovery, rifling through doo-wop, Britpop, jerky dance-pop and Roxy/Bowie glam exuberance with similar success. However, while revelling in the dewy-eyed but wistful feel of 80s new pop and the Beach Boys, it sounds more timeless than retro. This is down to a combination of masterful songwriting and lyrics that introduce dark edges to the sunny feel. Gwilym Gold's lyrics must be among the most troubled ever delivered by a man wearing a medallion, as he sublimely dissects lost loves, Britannia's decline and the mythology of death from a broken heart. Indeed, funk opus Shakes's line "it feels like joy and it feels like pain" is a microcosm of True Romance's many charms.
By Marc HoganMan, that Wavves "meltdown" really bummed me out. Not because a rising lo-fi rocker acted stupidly-- who doesn't sometimes?-- but because I'd always imagined being on ecstasy in Barcelona would be a lot more fun. After all, some of the most rewarding music from the last couple of years basically promised as much. Or was Swedish imprint Sincerely Yours being insincere? How about U.S. labels True Panther and Underwater Peoples? From Oslo to Melbourne, from indie rockers to club kids, sunny electronic euphoria has been one of the late-2000s pop underground's richest musical nodes.Just as that endless blissed-out summery vibe unites everyone from Panda Bear to Todd Terje, Barcelona electro-pop four-piece Delorean pull up at the intersection between several disparate and exciting movements. Start with their remixes: In the U.S., the bedroom pop of Glasser and disco-punk of Lemonade; in the UK, the NME-approved guitar rock of the Big Pink and Mystery Jets; and, right in Delorean's hometown, the sample-heavy tropical psych of El Guincho. They can be as airy and suave as Air France or Phoenix, but their unremitting beats are also plenty huge enough to convert fans of Cut Copy or MGMT. John Talabot, a Barcelona DJ who's released cosmic disco grooves for Munich label Permanent Vacation, lends a house remix to the group's current EP, Ayrton Senna.The third release on Fool House, the new label from French indie-dance blog Fluo Kids, Ayrton Senna represents a similar kind of convergence. In the early 2000s, Delorean originally set out to be something like Jimmy Eat World crossed with Elliott Smith, keyboardist Unai Lazcano confided to The Pop Manifesto magazine last summer. By the time of their promising Transatlantic KK album a couple of years ago, Delorean had absorbed the synth-pop sleekness of New Order and the echoey guitar spikes of post-punk revivalists like !!! or the Rapture, with one transcendent moment: so-called "breakhop" finale "Apocalypse Ghetto Blast". On the Ayrton Senna EP, the group's burgeoning dance-pop savvy comes into bloom with three unstoppable summer bangers, the Talabot remix, and a digital-only bonus cut.Despite their rock roots, Delorean do tracks, not songs. Singer/bassist Ekhi Lopetegi is a Ph.D. candidate with a background in philosophy, but Delorean use his Factory-ready yelp more as just another element to loop than as a vehicle for delivering lyrical content. "Seasun" is the best example of Delorean's layered approach to composition, methodically building 1990s piano-house keyboards, disembodied female vocals, Baltimore club-ready handclaps, and a ringing guitar line into the ultimate beach house (not Beach House). But "Deli", with its breakbeats and youthful enthusiasm, and "Moonson", all 90s-house liberation and anthem-rock yearning, are almost as thrilling. Talabot's "Kids & Drum" remix of "Seasun" could well hold up after even more listens than the original version, its hand-percussion samples reaching closer to the islands but its vast, clean lines stretching out toward space.Prior to Ayrton Senna, arguably Delorean's most compelling release was its remix for oft-misunderstood electro-pop Serge Gainsbourgs the Teenagers. On last year's occasionally brilliant Reality Check, the French band's "Love No" is a hilarious, sleazy, and brutally scathing snipe at a nagging girlfriend who disapproves of the narrator's self-absorbed internet stonerdom. Delorean's bass-heavy "No Love" version-- like Studio's "Possible" rework of the Shout Out Louds' "Impossible", only more dramatic-- strips away all the negative lyrics, ditching a chorus of "I'm not in love" and instead repeating the big question: "Are you in love?" Well, that's a hell of a thing for a pop song to ask. The track promises dancefloor absolution, only to nag at the heart in a way the Teenagers' lame girlfriend never could.Summer always ends too soon, and before long I'm sure beachy dance music will sound as cloying as rock fans considered the Beach Boys by the late 1960s. Like Wavves in Barcelona, Delorean recognize there's a dark side to their ecstatic vision, the aching truth that utopia-- literally, "no place"-- can never totally be fulfilled. As equally impressive bonus track "Big Dipper" puts it: "Babe, if you want to we could run away up into the sun/ But we would only fade from black to black." Delorean's similarities to other "sunny", "shimmering" new artists, ultimately, are far less important than their similarities to other practitioners of well-crafted and instantly gripping pop.
“Never judge a book by its cover,” my Mum always used to say. But what she didn’t mention was that the sound of an EP can sometimes be described perfectly by its cover art – which is the case with ‘Life of Leisure’ by Georgia-based, bedroom-producer Ernest Greene aka Washed Out. Hearing the synthetic strings of opener, Get Up, the purple-pastel image of a girl chin-deep in the ocean makes perfect sense. Greene’s melancholic crooning evokes isolation and there is solace in the simple bass as synths glimmer like dim light reflecting off of water. Greene is clearly yearning for escape (“Got to get up”//“Got to get away”). He is trapped in the here and now but his mind is drifting far, far, over there somewhere – “far out,” I suppose you could say.‘Life of Leisure’ comes at a time when lo-fi, surf-rock is latest thing to undergo a rush of resurgence. 2009 has already seen the likes of Girls, Best Coast, Pearl Harbour and Real Estate provide a modern take of the surf-rock movement of the 60s. While they basked in the summer sun by day and bummed around the campfire strumming guitars by moonlight (well, something like that anyway), we were landed with a sound that some cringingly dubbed ‘chillwave’. Once we had Real Estate chirping away with Beach Comber, Best Coast combining ‘Surf’s Up’ with the Ronnettes on a blown out amp and then Girls – basically a sun-drenched Babyshambles – we had the soundtrack to our summer.So where does Washed Out fit in? Well, it is surf-pop without the sunshine. Greene is clearly – like his moniker – washed out. Rather than digging up Good Vibrations, the summer has wound down, the sun has gone and it has left nothing more than a nostalgic memory of adolescent youth – something captured by its unerring indulgence in 80s synth-pop. The starry-eyed echoing of New Theory is not quite Enya, but more like Enya heard from within a fish tank. It is lush but not gratuitous; carefully crafted pop music consciously refraining from ever reaching full flight.Though, it is not only shoegaze set against a scenic backdrop. Feel It All Around is like the disco of Gary Low played at three-quarter speed – a slow dance at a wedding experienced within a languid dream. And Lately – the danciest tune on the EP – leaves you slurring at the bar, flirting with Cassius. Everything that Washed Out does is through wistful eyes; even the most obvious references to 80s pop – Peter Gabriel, The Human League, Kraftwerk – are muddied by time or a longing for past experience. That is not to say it isn’t uplifting. It still offers that fanciful sense of wonderment that 80s pop does best.
There's a gorgeously indulgent quality to Svein Berge and Torbjørn Brundtland's third album. As if determined to shake off their simplistic yet lingering reputation as purveyors of pleasant musical wallpaper for clothes shops and TV soundbeds, the Norwegian duo have gone for broke this time around: plump, tactile synthesisers, viscid dance grooves and a crack squad of vocalists, all deployed with precision and verve. Joining regular confederate Anneli Drecker, a trio of Swedes raise the songwriting stakes: Lykke Li coos and sighs over the beatific arpeggios of Miss It So Much; the Knife's Karin Dreijer Andersson, her voice like a Scandinavian winter, injects bewitching unease into the Orbital-like drama of Tricky Tricky; and Robyn bemoans the vicissitudes of human-android romance on the tremendous The Girl and the Robot. Free of the creeping pomposity that undermined 2005's The Understanding, Junior punches the pleasure centres time and again.
It’s October 1987 and Stephen Morrissey has spent the past five years changing the face of contemporary music forever. He’s appeared on TOTP with gladioli emerging from the back of his trousers and The South Bank Show is heralding his recently disbanded band as being wholly unique with the understatement of being “the most original English band of recent years”. The eighties had seen a troubled transition in music, with punk having somehow evolved into new romantic, New Order moved from doom to disco and Bruce Springsteen being hailed as the future of rock n roll. The Smiths stood high and mighty amongst the decade’s offerings and did indeed play the leading role in creating the seeds of the rich period to follow. Fast-forward then to the first decade of the new century and we have seen something of an unhealthy musical return to the eighties. If we are to herald the likes of La Roux and Lady Ga Ga as being worthy of major accolade, then we have not progressed surely? Interpol and Editors have contributed arguably the only credible eighties influenced material and so we surely need another Smiths to send us blazing into the next decade - introducing Northern Portrait.Many fans of The Smiths felt that, whilst they bonded with the solo Morrissey, none of the material ever matched up to his former manifestation - indication that the influence of Johnny Marr had always been underscored whilst they were a unit. Listening here to the opening hollow punchy drums and jangly guitar sounds of ‘The Münchhausen In Me’ and you are taken back to those heady days; then the vocals cut in, with a tale of despair and boredom, convincing you that this is indeed some unearthed treasures from the band of yore. The style continues throughout the album and there will no doubt be cries of plagiarism and treacherous mimicry, yet one needs to reflect on the quality of what is delivered and it is difficult not to allocate a level of credibility for that alone. There’s a quintessential Englishness about the whole experience too, from lyrics like “I’m gay in the old-fashioned sense of the word” to the uncluttered arrangements and the forceless manner of the execution. But here’s the rub, these guys hark from some considerable distance away from Manchester - Denmark to be precise!For those not familiar with the band, they released two exceptional EPs last year, ‘The Fallen Aristocracy’ and ‘Napolean Sweetheart’ giving rise to a degree of critical acclaim and then a few select gigs both in the UK and US. This, the debut album, has taken some time to put together and includes but one track from those EPs, the splendid ‘Crazy’. This is a little surprising and, particularly given the relative shortness of the album, one would have liked to have seen second outings for more of the other previous material, like ‘I’ll Give You Two Seconds To Entertain Me’ or ‘A Quiet Night In Copenhagen’. But putting that to one side, we do have an album that brightly illuminates an indie world that was rather too dimly lit during 2009 and so this, being one of the New Year’s earliest releases, may well set us off on a serious recovery trail. Lyrically, it lacks the cynicism and insight of Morrissey but there is a tongue-in-cheek charm and poignant wit to it, like “days of writing on the walls, never-ending, scratching letters all the time, never sending” from ‘New Favourite Moment’. One of the stand out tracks here was originally written for the EPs, ‘The Operation Worked But The Patient Died’ and is given a neat re-work, with a piercing beat and Stefan Larsen’s quivering vocals pleading for compassion. Then there’s the lushness of ‘That’s When My Headaches Begin’ where the pace is dropped to accommodate the morosity: “armed with my weapons of self destruction”. It’s hard not to pick out ‘Crazy’ though as the class jewel on display, with it’s rich musical depth and beautiful melody; it’s the track that first gained the band attention and rightly so. Larsen writes compelling music and professes to have not even heard of The Smiths when he started out. He is though, in so many senses, that same frail understated man who is content within the expression of his own existence. Should he, similarly, develop the ability to place a wry slant on life’s grander scale inequalities, then there’s no telling where he might take his band . . .if the world will listen. For now at least this could indeed be your new favourite moment and if the queen really is dead, then Northern Portrait are perfect regal successors!
1. The Temper Trap - Conditions 2. Fuck Buttons - Tarot Sport 3. Jamie Long - The Never Years 4. Get Back Guinozzis! - Carpet Madness 5. Epic45 - In All The Empty Houses 6. Wild Beasts - Two Dancers 7. The Maccabees - Wall Of Arms 8. The Very Best - Warm Heart Of Africa 9. The Low Anthem - Oh My God, Charlie Darwin 10. The Duke & The King - Nothing Gold Can Stay 11. Atlas Sound - Logos 12. Richard Hawley - Truelove's Gutter
That classy Liverpudlian outfit THIS FINAL FRAME never quite made the cut was always a mystery to this writer. Having spent pretty much all of the '80s in contention, they bequeathed one of THE great lost singles in the tense, noir-inflected 'The Diary' (1982) and sporadically followed it up with several fine further efforts ('Stories' and 'The Mask (Falls Away)' spring to mind) before finally petering out somewhere before the turn of the 90s.Despite a lot of promise and an obvious welter of great songs, TFF never got around to making an official album, so it was a wonderful surprise for this writer when the band's long-time frontman Paul Skillen and his talented collaborator Carl Henry (also Half Man Half Biscuit drummer) got in touch with news of TFF re-entering the fray with their debut album 'My Blue Heart' after all these years.The product of low-key songwriting sessions over a couple of years, 'My Blue Heart' was assembled gradually and with the emphasis on getting the songs right first and foremost and the good news is that it won't disappoint anyone who loved the band the first time round. Opening track 'Far From The Crowd' is a lush and ethereal delight with Skillen's charismatic, slightly Paul Haig-ish croon still right on target. The fact they've retained the brass that was an essential part of their original make-up is a good decision and Jim Short's cornet adds some great, British Sea Power-style touches.A lengthy string of goodies follow through in its' wake. 'Crashing Down' is a bittersweet, beauty where Skillen knows that even against impossible odds ("you left this town with your heart intact/ head hung low and suitcase packed/ and I won't see another year with you") keeping on is the only option. 'Always', meanwhile, has a big, windswept sound akin to The Chameleons or maybe Levy, only with added blasts of cornet and 'Where Is The Love' marries synths, loops and a heady dance ability, though the jagged vibrato guitar figure acts as an edgy counterpart. Along with cathartic choruses 'The Love That Lies', it's one that could definitely do well as a single.Another really striking element of this new Final Frame is their desire to use woodwind. Thus, songs like 'Sound of The Waves' and the graceful 'Flowers In The Spring' are romantic, elemental pop of the first water and almost Pre-Raphaelite in design. Arguably this writer's favourite, though, is the closing 'The Ways of The World': a convincing pulling out of all the stops for the grand finale with chugging bass, fanfare trumpet and Henry's propulsive drumming all helping to meld a melancholic beauty New Order would be proud of. If they were still speaking.Having thought they were long lost to the four winds of ill-fortune, it gives this writer an enormous feeling of well-being to know Messrs. Skillen and Henry have come in from the cold to open a new chapter in the saga of This Final Frame. 'My Blue Heart' is stuffed with songs of endurance, songs that still believe passionately and songs they can be proud to put their name to. Welcome back boys. It really has been far too long.
“How To Wallow In Shame” is the second album from My Laundry Life, the one-man project of André Daners from Germany. Another eleven excellent pop songs in the same melancholic jangle pop territories - between The Go-Betweens and Harper Lee - as on the debut album “The Art Of Science”. Tracklist: “Money Greedy”, “Garden Of Delight”, “Compensation”, “Stones”, “Be Yourself”, “Soul Boxes”, “You’ll Be Ignored”, “Isolation”, “Massacre Street”, “A Crystal Morning” and “The Town Song”.
At first sight, you could easily have dismissed The Horrors as haircuts, scenesters, talentless art-school chancers. Sure, after listening to the brilliant, bilious racket of their debut ‘Strange House’, you might have struggled a bit more. But you’d still have managed it.Then a mysterious, online countdown appears. As it ticks to a close, an ominous, seductive, gothic, motorik thrum begins. Red, green and blue lights flash across skinny, mop-haired figures on a bare stage. A voice intones “Some say, we walk alone…”. And just like that, the eldritch enfants terribles are born again as something new, strange and quite wonderful.But shocking as their metamorphosis has been, uniting longtime fans and former sworn haters across the NME office, it’s not as revolutionary as might first appear. The Horrors’ transition, Wizard Of Oz-style, from grim monochrome into scintillating rainbows of sound is rooted in their love of psychedelia, in the original, old-school sense of the word. As an expression of the LSD experience, the unsettling music and art that emerged in the ’60s reflected the nightmarish ego destructions as well as the delirious highs of having your mind poisoned. The Horrors’ well-schooled, deliberate evolution into psychedelia feels so very right, not a hokey ‘new direction’ but more of a growth of their black tendrils into an expansive genre where they can darkly flower. And boy have they flourished under the tutelage of the master of soul-scaring sonics, Portishead’s Geoff Barrow.Their second blooming begins with a pulsing beat and neon synth patterns, out of which, awesome in its size, comes a screaming wash of guitars. ‘Mirror’s Image’ is essentially My Bloody Valentine in sharper focus, a wall of heavy distortion cut through with melody, into which Faris wails “Is it the way… is it the way she looks at you?”The cartoony affectations of ‘Strange House’ are replaced by atmospherics, the changed rhythm section of Rhys Webb and Joe Spurgeon brooding beneath Josh Third’s aching guitar and Tom Furse’s melancholic keyboard hooks. It’s a captivating new sound, which shifts into overdrive for the following ‘Three Decades’, an exhilarating krautrock ride across The Cure’s doomy landscape.It’s not, as the brave decision to release the epic motorik thrum of ‘Sea Within A Sea’ as the lead single might have suggested, all widescreen and soundscape, though. There’s also breathtaking thrills, as with ‘Who Can Say’’s almighty buzz raving up The Jesus And Mary Chain. When the instruments drop away, and Faris states the Shangri-Las referencing line “When I told her I didn’t love her any more… she cried” it also marks the first time that emotion has made it into The Horrors’ work. Even this early on in the album it’s apparent this is a band who’ve found themselves, and to whom everything is now coming effortlessly. Sure, their influences are there for all to see, but whereas on ‘Strange House’ the fanboy references verged on pastiche, here it all feels natural, real, fresh. ‘Do You Remember’ is a pure rush reminiscent of MBV’s ‘Soon’ and benefits, like much of the album, from Faris having dropped his often goonish sub-Birthday Party lyrics, in favour of lovelorn, dream-logic imagery like “I will be with you soon,I will cross the ocean blue”. ‘Scarlet Fields’ glides like Neu!, with Third’s shimmering guitar counterpointing Furse’s keyboard hooks to spellbinding effect. They go even slower with the drone ballad ‘I Only Think Of You’, which in Spacemen 3’s hands would’ve been about a junk fix but here is simply, sweetly, about a girl. Restraint and maturity covered, we’re drawn inexorably back to sensual racket with ‘I Can’t Control Myself’. Its blatant steal from Spiritualized’s superior ‘Come Together’ makes it the most unsatisfactory thing here, but it’s followed by perhaps the most perfect; ‘Primary Colours’ is a powerful pop song in which Faris reveals a surprisingly rich baritone for a beautifully mysterious lyric which takes it into the realm of the masters, Echo And The Bunnymen. The album ends with the song that first signified The Horrors’ reinvention, ‘Sea Within A Sea’. Here it works as ‘I Am The Resurrection’ does on ‘The Stone Roses’, allowing the acid house elements to come to the fore in a bravado demonstration of what the band are capable of.For us listeners, it’s a relief to hear a band growing so impressively at a time when most others have neither the talent nor the opportunity to do so. Time will tell how ‘Primary Colours’ stands up to the likes of ‘Loveless’ or ‘Psychocandy’, but right now, this feels like the British art-rock album we’ve all been waiting for.
Here are the music videos of the singles (Sea Within A Sea, Who Can Say & Whole New Way) from the current album plus a video of previous single "She Is The New Thing".
Once upon a time, it was the law that all indie bands had to be moody and European, arty and pretentious. Then along came Oasis and the Thick Rock Lad took over. Still, thanks to today's new band, we can be reminded of a period when it was OK to namedrop obscure literary texts in interviews and resemble gaunt, starving artistes masquerading as stylish Italian models or actors in pseudo-y French existentialist movies from the 60s. The video to Hurt's debut single, Wonderful Life, is so gloriously sombre and monochrome, it's almost obscene, although frankly, up here, we could weep with joy. The angular haircuts, the savage cheekbones, the darkly lit black-and-white setting, the pained stares into the middle distance ... it reeks of eau d'1983 – the year when half-remembered bands with names like the Lotus Eaters, It's Immaterial and Pale Fountains took the shaved-sideboards-and-suits look of post-punk into the mainstream. The song itself is surgingly sad synth-pop, with a mysterious lyric whose optimistic chorus ("Never give up, it's such a wonderful life") contrasts with the dour verses, filled with references to crying and rain. It's even got a Spandau-style sax solo while the video features a gorgeous Edie Sedgwick-alike who appears to be dancing to a completely different song.
Hurts – and that name is already splitting opinions because it's so self-consciously serious, which is precisely why we love it – come from the home of the grave, Manchester (well, when Joy Division and Factory Records dominated the city like shadowy colossi). Hutchcraft and Anderson used to be in a band called Bureau who later formed part of a pop outfit called Daggers and recorded some tracks with Richard (Kylie) Stannard and machine-pop maestro Richard X. Now they've streamlined the operation down to just the two of them and they're making lushly mournful electronic pop music like Illuminated and Unspoken, tracks that recall the epic synth melodramas of Ultravox circa Vienna, and Wonderful Life, which apart from being way better than the 1987 Black single of the same title, posits Hurts as a boy-duo styled by Helmut Newton, directed by Anton Corbijn and produced by Trevor Horn on a Martin Hannett tip.
Continent really isn't the kind of debut you expect from a producer who can safely be called a "remixer du jour," having provided solid reworks for a slew of prominent artists (HEALTH, Sally Shapiro, The Presets). In fact, CFCF, a.k.a. Michael Silver, is frequently lumped in with electronic artists who would produce that other kind of album: abrasive, kitsch-y, bombastic, tiresome "bangers," thriving on the idea that more is more and who cares if it's good because it's more. Fortunately for Silver, his sensibilities are able to rise above the mess of what's cheap and easy and get to the stuff that sounds good.Continent is a decidedly chill album. Some might say dangerously chill, as its lax attitude veers slightly toward the non-danceable, despite its steady bass and bright, consistently balearic feel. It's a more mature danceable, though, really a wholly different kind of animal than the overtly poppy, frilly stuff that most young people put on when they feel like they've got body heat to burn. It's as if CFCF managed to fit the feel of driving in a foreign sports car along a coastal road to your mistress' Italian villa into 65 minutes of audio.That uniformity of style is definitely one of Continent's strengths, but it also does the album a slight disservice: The entire record is that very sumptuous journey, that study in cool. Much like this analogy, CFCF teases his work's build-up for too long. Continent never takes us to that villa, or at least lets us fool around in the backseat with a wanton Mrs. Officer who pulls us over for speeding because we really, really want to get to that villa.CFCF's in a tough spot, seeing as the thing that makes Continent good is also holding it back from being great. Have hope, though; this is just the first CFCF album. Silver will probably have this whole thing worked out by the time Hemisphere rolls around.
Consisting of four young men aged 19 to 21, all residing in the musical capitol of Norway, Bergen, The New Wine are making waves at home and abroad with their delicious and accessible brand of pop songs. Not long after their live debut, the word about The New Wine spread throughout Bergen.Natural references such as Michael Jackson, LCD Soundsystem, The Whitest Boy Alive and Koji Kondo (acclaimed Nintendo-composer) can all be cited as influences in this accessible but fragrantly open group, shamelessly combining pop, funk and rock. The underlying passion in The New Wine’s music, however, is strong – a want to make danceable, feel-good music for people to enjoy themselves too.The New Wine have since played the Öya Festival in Oslo, toured Norway once, toured London (playing 10 gigs in 10 days including the Camden Lock Tavern and 93 Feet East), Start The Bus in Bristol, Popkomm, Berlin, and Eurosonic Festival in Groningen, The Netherlands. They have performed countless live sets with The Whitest Boy Alive, and in April, 2009, they set out to support The Whitest Boy Alive on their European tour (16 gigs in Germany, France, Switzerland, Netherlands, Belgium, England and Denmark).Like all bottles of wine, the best are left to mature and develop over time. The same is to be said with the New Wine, as they grow and mature, both personally and as a band. Time will indeed show the full potential and skill of this most promising of acts.
Birmingham’s emperors of rock’n’folk Ocean Colour Scene have announced that they will be releasing a new album, Saturday, on 1st February 2010, which will be preceded by a digital single, Magic Carpet Days on 25th January.OCS, who will be celebrating their 21st anniversary next year, have clocked up an impressive eleven Top 20 singles and five Top 10 albums during their illustrious career. Saturday, their ninth studio album, was recorded over six weeks last summer at the iconic Rockfield studios in South Wales with producer Gavin Monaghan (Editors/ the Twang), and finds them as vibrantly tuneful as they’ve ever been.From the opening bars of psych-folk opener ‘100 Floors Of Perception’ - written by Simon about the on-going financial crisis - to epic climax ‘Rockfield’ (think ‘Baba O’Riley’ meets ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’), it’s a reminder than when it comes to delivering classic rock hooks there is simply no one better. Denim-driven boogie ‘Old Pair Of Jeans’ (written by Bennett) will delight those hankering for the full-tilt mod-pop of ‘For Dancers Only’, while Harry Kidnap’ (written in tribute to John Weller) boasts shades of North Atlantic Drift stand-out ‘Make The Deal’. The single, ‘Magic Carpet Days’, meanwhile (key lyric: “The world won’t shake you/Knock you down and break you/I’ll steer you through these magic carpet days”) is a reminder that their belief in the Mod aesthetic of self-improvement remains as strong as ever.
Here's an audio clip of the single "Magic Carpet Days":
If one could call Jamie Long's debut release anything, it would be intriguing. Seven tracks (including a remix by The Sound of Arrows) and twenty-seven minutes in length, The Never Years is as intimate as it is unique. And considering its distinctness, the EP certainly makes for a captivating listen.Given its relatively short run-time, The Never Years is an impressively diverse collection of songs. While the entire release follows a relatively laidback motif, Long explores a variety of sounds; there's a catchy pop flare to some tracks, while others embrace more relaxing soundscapes or dance-like characteristics. The EP's highlight is "Pool House", a six minute piece that floats along on dreamy electronics. It's a multi-faceted track that incorporates several layers of music, including fuzzy sounding acoustic guitar tracks, driving synthesizers, a rhythmic ambience, and programmed drums to an impressive degree of effectiveness. Long's mumbled lyrics aren't particularly deep, but as he sings "Summer sounds were in the air / All I did was stare / In your blue eyes", he captures the easygoing atmosphere exceedingly well."Monaco" carries on in a similar manner. Though still highly relaxing, the song is busier sounding and faster paced than the hazy opener. This sort of ambivalence is rather successful; while "Monaco" isn't quite as enjoyably laidback as "Pool House", it provides the backdrop for the more guitar centric pop of "See What Happens" and "Years" later on in the record. And it's an excellent song, by all rights. "Woods" marks a major atmospheric change in The Never Years. Electronic layering is still used at irregular intervals, but the wistful textures have been substituted in favour of a catchy pop gleam.Barring the fantastic "Pool House", which is among the coolest songs I've heard all year, The Never Years probably won't blow listeners away. That said, Jamie Long has himself a very solid debut in the twenty-seven minute EP. Long's greatest strength throughout The Never Years is his ability to bridge together memorable pop hooks and chilled out electronic music through excellent layering and production. The Never Years isn't perfect, as portions of the EP's middle tracks can drag from time to time. However, these are minor kinks which can easily be ironed out as Long grows as a songwriter and musician. The Never Years showcases Jamie Long's promise in a concise and entertaining manner and, if all goes well, should prove to be taste of things to come.
Letting Up Despite Great Faults is an LA based band. Their reps sent us their entire self titled album the other day and I am loving it! A great mid-tempo shoegaze/electronic hybrid record that will appeal to fans of bands like Radio Dept., Yo La Tengo, M83, My Bloody Valentine, etc. They meld traditional instrumentation and electronic elements with beautiful airy vocals into a seamless work of art. Some tracks are more electro-poppy and others more shoegazey, but all excellent. A great late night record!
So far my favorites are album opener 'In Steps' (my fav), 'Folding Under Stories Told', the shoe-gazey 'The Colors Aren't You or Me', 'So Fast: You', 'Photograph Shakes' and album closer 'Release', but there's not a bad one here. No filler to be found. I also like that the songs are all 3-4 min's long. Really what's the point of much more than that for good pop songs.
Here's the music video of Groove Armada's single 'I Won't Kneel'. It's a blistering sneak preview from their eagerly anticipated new studio album "Black Light" (due Feb 2010), which ranks among their best work to date and sees the masters of reinvention move in some thrilling new directions.Written and produced by Andy Cato and Tom Findlay, 'I Won't Kneel' received its world premiere from Annie Mac on Radio One (September 18th).The track features a scintillating vocal from female singer Saint Saviour, who has been described as a cross between Kate Bush and Anthony & The Johnson's."We've worked with a lot of legends," says Andy Cato talking about their new found vocalist Saint Saviour. "Now we've found one. We've done just a couple of 'Black Light Live' warm-up gigs with her so far, but already I'm only ever asked one question. Who IS that girl?"Saint Saviour will illuminate the live stage with Groove Armada in October when she fronts their 'Black Light' shows. She also features on several tracks on Groove Armada's hotly awaited forthcoming new album "Black Light" along with a whole host of fascinating collaborators including Bryan Ferry, Fenech Soler and Nick Littlemore from PNAU/Empire Of The Sun.Black Light Track listing 1. Look Me In The Eye Sister feat. Jess Larrabee 2. Fall Silent feat. Nick Littlemore 3. Just For Tonight feat. Jess Larrabee 4. Not Forgotten feat. Nick Littlemore 5. I Won’t Kneel feat. Saint Saviour 6. Cards To Your Heart feat. Nick Littlemore 7. Paper Romance feat. Fenech Soler & Saint Saviour 8. Warsaw feat. PNAU & Nick Littlemore from Empire of the Sun 9. Shameless feat. Bryan Ferry 10. Time & Space feat. SaintSaviour & Jess Larrabee
Liverpool's legendary lost sons The Wild Swans release their eagerly-awaited second single of 2009. This new single from the reformed, revitalised Wild Swans, follows the success of the 'English Electric Lightning' 10" released on Occultation earlier this year to unanimous acclaim from both fans and the media. Fans travelled from all over the world for their summer 2009 live performances, fronted by charismatic founder, singer and songwriter Paul Simpson and also featuring Ricky Rene Maymi (Brian Jonestown Massacre), Les Pattinson (Echo and the Bunnymen), Mike Mooney (Julian Cope/Spiritualized) and Steve Beswick. Original keyboard player Ged Quinn was unable to make the live dates and was temporarily replaced by Henry Priestman (Yachts/It's Immaterial), also involved in producing both recent singles. The Wild Swans have garnered growing cult status and fans across the world since their debut single, 'The Revolutionary Spirit'/'God Forbid' was released on Zoo in 1982. Their story is one of glittering talent and promise, although often frustratingly unfulfilled. 'Liquid Mercury' shows that their time has now come; this is one of the great Liverpool singles, part of the rich tradition which the wild swans did so much to create.
Here's audioclip of Liquid Mercury & English Electric Lightning.
The highly anticipated new album from one of the most iconic British bands of the last few decades – fronted by the gorgeous Sade Adu – ‘Soldier Of Love‘ is set to be released worldwide on February 8, 2010 via Sony/BMG and is the first official studio album since the multi-platinum release of Lovers Rock in 2000.
Here's an audio clip of the new single "Soldier of Love", also an unofficial remix of the track and the music video of her 1984 hit "Smooth Operator".
The ’80s’ stranglehold on us is tightening. From our chart-pillaging synth-pop and its attendant fashions (the bumbag!) to unemployment, deregulation and fears about invading Red Armies (thanks, Jon McClure), there’s not much ‘now’ about today. Joining this backwards march are The Polyamorous Affair. In riposte to the Rev, LA’s Eddie Chacon – who partnered Charles on 1992 UK chart-topper ‘Would I Lie To You?’ – has crafted an enjoyably droll LP of Soviet-shaped pop: sterilised synth washes, pulsing disco beats and lascivious pillow-talk between he and spouse Sissy Sainte-Marie that, together, sounds like Buggles, late Roxy Music and Kraftwerk hammered into something you can do the Barynya dance to.
Seek Magic’s late release – assuming you missed its super-limited run back in the summer – means it probably won’t feature in too many year-end round-ups. Which is a shame, truly, as the debut from Memory Tapes is a rare album of delightfully addictive pop, positioned on the difficult-cum-enviable dividing line between the indie underground and mainstream recognition.
The work of one man, New Jersey-based Dayve Hawke, Memory Tapes’ sound is immediately accessible but entirely capable of haunting your thoughts when it’s not filling your ears. Already the recipient of ‘net-wide blog praise, Hawke’s modus operandi is comparable to those of M83Cut Copy – this is shape-shifting synth-pop, big on beats but almost counteractively woozy of atmosphere. It’s effortlessly, achingly cool, but also clever enough never to rest on its laurels, as arrangements flitter in and out of focus, vocals drift without ever settling, and sleek synth lines dance rings around basslines borrowed from a library of 70s funk albums, as played by Hooky himself. and
While its method of assembly may be comparable to the work of another bedroom maverick, Bradford Cox, Seek Magic is a more vibrant affair that Atlas Sound’s long-players. It follows a lineage closer to Deastro’s Moondagger album of the summer – upbeat but oddly understated, slipping and sliding and never quite fully in control, yet beguilingly complete and instant of repeat-play appeal. It’s evocative of a thousand records you’ve heard before, and hundreds you own, but bafflingly unique, as if the recognisable elements have never before been assembled quite as exquisitely.
Of course, there will come a time when Seek Magic begins to feel too familiar, and it’s entirely likely that this moment could occur after but a week, such is the must-listen-again nature of the collection. Don’t be surprised to see it top your personal most-played list in no time at all. But if that’s not a sign of a quality album, what is? Slow-burners are for those with time on their hands – Seek Magic rewards the impatient with true class and keeps them hooked ‘til they’ve had their fill.
Hawke’s already confronted the commercial coalface with remixes for Britney Spears and Michael Jackson, but don’t be surprised if he steps into the spotlight himself if there’s more where this collection has come from. Best pencil him in as delivering a future album of the year, now.
Loose knit folktronica collective Tunng have confirmed details of their new album '...And Then We Saw Land'.Formed in 2003, Tunng came to be one of the defining acts of what was known as 'folktronica'. Quickly dropped and derided by anyone unlucky enough to be tarred with the term, the genre moulded acoustic folk with jittery electronic production.Using a variety of bizarre home made instruments alongside their laptops, Tunng craft gently evolving tracks that defy any conventional notion of 'songcraft'. Gentle lullabies can give way to primitive chants, with Tunng's previous album 'Good Arrows' winning critical acclaim.Since then, Tunng have toured with the Saharan collective Tinariwen. It seems that the hypnotic African group have deeply affected the folktronic pioneers, with Tunng working on strange new material.Leader Mike Lindsay explains: “We learned that you don’t always need structure! As long as there is presence, emotion and groove. It taught us that everything is open and adaptable...”“We wanted to make a record that would be a great live set,” the Tunng musician continued. “My friend described it as ‘Epic Folk Disco Brass Magnificent,’ and I’m not sure you could call any other Tunng record that.”Tunng are due to release their new album '...And Then We Saw Land' on March 1st.
Despite anticipation of a crossover proper with the release of their mainstream-stroking single ‘Toothpaste Kisses’, the sweetest moment of their debut album ‘Colour It In’, Brighton’s The Maccabees never quite reached escape velocity to leave the indie ghetto they’ve ruled so well and become A Genuine Big Deal in the wider world of Tesco CD sales and getting your music news from The Sun.No bother: rather than up the cheeriness of their breezy early cuts, the five-piece have set about traversing the opposite path to recognition, by delivering a distinctly darker second long-player. This shift in tone was showcased early on by the free download single ‘No Kind Words’; said song sits dead in the middle of this collection like the itch that you just can’t scratch, oddly pleasurable for all its irritation. On it, frontman Orlando Weeks implores: “If you’ve got no kind words to say, then you should say nothing more at all.” It’s less an ask, more a command; critics looking to find fault in this record, outside of any personal taste discrepancies, might as well bite their tongues now.The song’s frantic pace and relative atmosphere of instrumental oppressiveness is mirrored by similarly teeth-bared and fists-clenched tracks ‘One Hand Holding’ and ‘William Powers’; although both do at least allow the slimmest chinks of light to breach the storm clouds collecting above the band’s heads. But if ‘Wall Of Arms’ were all nastiness, we’d be talking about a band other than The Maccabees – the quintet are incapable of not calling upon matters of the heart for inspiration for much of their material, and the results are – like their first album – universally excellent.‘Seventeen Hands’ and lead single proper ‘Love You Better’ (its video was exclusively revealed by Clash HERE) find Weeks channelling emotions from depths previously unexplored, with his performance resonating a perfect sincerity that might be born of practise, but more likely a developed confidence in expressing himself with the sort of commitment that separates chart-friendly guitar fluff from thinking-man indie material. ‘Wall Of Arms’ reassures the listener throughout that this is no Razorlight they’re listening to; like The Cribs and The Futureheads, The Maccabees have grown into a perfectly pop-savvy band with greatly accomplished songs in their catalogue, but also one that sings it like they really mean it.The album ends with the gently swaying ‘Bag Of Bones’, which trumps ‘Toothpaste Kisses’ as the prettiest song The Maccabees have ever crafted, albeit in a slightly different manner – while the first-album cut is almost unforgivably saccharine, ‘Wall Of Arms’’ closer is a layered, slow-motion soundscape that flies close to the work of Panda Bear and Atlas Sound. “Bag of bones… and so much more besides,” coos Weeks, and again one can assume allusions entirely unconnected with the song’s genesis…Seen by many a critic as a fairly lightweight band first album around, if only because they couldn’t make time to listen to ‘Colour It In’ as closely as was necessary, with ‘Wall Of Arms’ The Maccabees have made sure that no listener is going to leave the experience not feeling touched in some way – by the tonal dexterity, the lyrical openness, or something that’s not so obvious until the third or fourth listen. It’s a record that requires the stating of an opinion, and this one reads: much recommended, especially for those who short-changed its makers last time. You really should give them another go.And if it doesn’t tickle the fancy of Joe Bloggs and his £50 a month spend, never mind - at least we'll know that there's something special here to celebrate.
With "forces' sweetheart" Vera Lynn at the top of the album chart, the time couldn't be more ripe for Richard Hawley to seduce a mainstream audience. His sixth album, like its predecessors, comes drenched in nostalgia: the cover portrait is styled after Roy Orbison; Open Up Your Door ends with a melody quoted from Strangers in the Night; there's even a song about hand-writing a love letter by firelight - who does that any more? Opening track As the Dawn Breaks might have been sung by Lynn herself, its mentions of "hope hung on every washing line" and "a songbird's melody" are so evocative of that era. Elsewhere, ghostly cries from the musical saw and ondes Martenot bring an element of eeriness and adventure - yet it's hard to escape a niggling feeling that Hawley is here polishing a formula, even falling back on cliche, in his continuing quest to make the local and homely sound lushly romantic.
Fleet Foxes describe their music as "baroque pop, music from fantasy movies, Motown, block harmonies ... not much of a rock band", which is one way of describing the indefinable brilliance of one of those records that sounds like it has arrived, fully formed, from another planet. Though there are musical touchstones - English folk, late 60s west-coast music (particularly the Beach Boys and Love) - this is the sound of late-night forests, skipping animals, music made by people as old as the hills they dwell in. Implausibly, they are actually in their 20s and live in Seattle. The dizzyingly uplifting four-part harmonies of songs such as Tiger Mountain Peasant Song are interspersed with profound darkness in the death-stalked Your Protector, or Oliver James, the chilling tale of a child's drowning. It all adds up to a landmark in American music, an instant classic.
Words On Music reissues "…undone", the classic 1985 post-punk debut by the London quartet The Lucy Show. Produced by Steve Lovell (Blur, James) and Steve Power (Robbie Williams, Blur), …undone was a CMJ #1 album on U.S. college radio, led by the single "Ephemeral (This Is No Heaven)" and the title track. Through 11 seamless compositions, "…undone" gracefully injects howling guitars and psychedelic flourishes into infectious pop songs with hook-laden choruses. Recorded with strings by Fiona Stephen (Belle and Sebastian, David Byrne).The importance of …undone's place extends well beyond its post-punk canvas. As Jack Rabid, editor of The Big Takeover, explains, the record is a "touchstone bridging the early Magazine/Bunnymen/Sound/Comsat Angels U.K. post-punk pinnacle and the House of Love and Stones Roses emergence, sparking the shoegaze-dreampop explosion."
