London/NYC Tunes

The Middle East @ The Mercury Lounge, NYC - 19 May 2010

2010-06-09T08:18:00.000-07:00

This review first appeared on Soundblab

The Middle East have got something brewing. Their only release to date has been The Recordings of The Middle East, a five track EP. Yet in tonight's hour-long set the Australians from Townsville play only two songs from it, preferring to spend their sold out New York headline show testing a series of tracks that will undoubtedly grace their first full-length release.

It's a shame, because the best moments come from the two released tracks, particularly set opener The Darkest Side. Taking to the stage, the band fiddle around for what seems forever. The crowd get restless, talking and turning away from the stage. But then Jordan Ireland starts plucking out the opening chords and begins his alto timbre, stopping only to request more light from his stage crew. "We asked for low light," he jokes. "But I can't see a thing." The interruption only heightens the mood, and Bree Tranter soon adds her delicate mumblings. A hush sweeps over the crowd. These two can sing.

After that, though, it gets a bit chaotic. The seven bodies pit mandolins, microphones and macbook pros against banjos, basses and beats. Trumpets and flutes jump in and out of action and a glockenspiel and accordion get some time in the limelight. It's eventful, certainly, but in this little venue it all seems a bit much. The music loses its momentum, and save for the instances when all five microphones are put to good use, the sound is unfortunately loose.

A large part of this is surely due to the extensive touring the band has undertaken in the past couple of months. This latest leg is in support of shows with Mumford & Sons, and although the Englishmen show their support from the crowd, you get the feeling the stage is not the place for these talented Australian folkies right now. There's just too much they're itching to lay down in the studio, and a bit of recording time never hurt anyone.

Lovely new tune from the Mynabirds 'Numbers Don't Lie'

2010-06-03T13:27:00.000-07:00

I heard this sweet tune on the radio. I thought something along the lines of 'oh yes, lovely old soul tune... quite Motowny'. But, now, poisoned by the truth of knowledge as I am now, I know it's a new un, from a band I never heard of before, The Mynabirds. It's very good. I hope you like.

Update: now, a couple of not particularly generous reviews on the the internet, more specifically the guardian and Pitchfork, have just told me that Mynabirds is 'just a vehicle for white-soul girl Laura Burhenn (formerly of Washington, DC indie obscurities Georgie James) to achieve her ambition to "make a record that sounds like Neil Young doing Motown"', while the latter (who graded her album 8.0 out of ten), declare that while 'the notion of the co-lead singer of Georgie James teaming up with a guy that described his last album as "Prince sitting in on John Lennon's Plastic Ono sessions" might not be the sort of crossover that sounds all that appealing', they acknowledge that 'one listen to "Numbers Don't Lie", and even the most devout skeptic could find themselves singing a different tune.' Nice of them, ne?

Anyways, like, here's the vid.

Listen / free download of 'Odessa' by Caribou

2010-04-24T02:51:00.000-07:00

Caribou - Odessa from Video Marsh on Vimeo.

Click here for a free download too.

I likes this a lot.

Bear in Heaven @ The Lexington - 20 April 2010

2010-04-23T03:07:00.000-07:00

I fear for my beloved instrument. In the hey days of punk, grunge, or any rock n roll, the bass was the lynchpin of the band. You couldn’t put a price on someone who could pump out a deep groove for the rest to build themselves around. I get the faint sniff that nowadays it’s becoming a peripheral instrument. More and more, I’ll go and watch a band and see the bass passed around guitarists and keyboardists like an unwanted child of a divorced family at Christmas. The result is more often than not a show that lacks any real grunt.

It was no more evident than tonight at the Lexington. Bear in Heaven, who hail from Brooklyn but spent the last 50 hours trying to negotiate a flight ban into the UK, are an act for the noughties – plenty of synths, plenty of fast beats, plenty of high-pitched vocals. Don’t get me wrong, they show incredible potential. I don’t profess to be hugely au fait with them, but I was taken with a number of their tunes tonight. They create great energy, and know the right moments to break down the beats.

But one thing in particular bugged me: neither guitarist nor vocalist seemed to really know how to get the most out of the bass. The lines they played were fine – even impressive – but being guitarists at heart they didn’t move away from the close frets at the higher end. They were reticent to walk their fingers down the neck to find the real impact of the instrument. At times, it was even discarded altogether.

The result was a show that lacked a pulse. It seemed there was nothing gluing the three of them together, no grunt to really drive the building crescendos home. My ears hurt from the abundance of treble that even the drums seemed to contribute to.
It’s a problem easily fixed. The beauty of a great bassist is that they don’t garner the attention of the crowd in the way a front man does. You can sit them in the corner and they know their job is to look after the basics. Bear in Heaven would benefit hugely from the services of a four-stringed specialist.

Ace new tune - Darwin Deez 'Radar detector'

2010-04-22T05:58:00.000-07:00

Awesum!

VIDEO - new LCD Soundsystem tune 'Drunk Girls'

2010-04-20T11:20:00.001-07:00

We like!

Why make sharing music a crime?

2010-04-08T06:55:00.000-07:00

When I like an album, the first thing I do is check when they’re touring and get tickets. I then put it on the stereo at work, sharing it with colleagues and encouraging them to come to the show with me. If I think it’s really something, it’ll find its way onto this blog and get read by a pretty hefty number.

The fact is that my acquiring an album for free results in significantly more income for the artist – providing they’re good enough. Everyone knows that word-of-mouth is the most effective form of advertising. Essentially, that’s all file sharing is. With the introduction of the Digital Britain Bill, all that is over. We're being transported back to a time when record companies and radio stations controlled the amount of new music that you could hear through selective playlists and discriminative pricing. Couple this with the planned closure of one of the few remaining bastions of new music, Radio 6, and we're left with a fairly bleak musical future.

An age-old practice
We’ve been sharing music for decades, through mix-tapes, copied cds and now file sharing. It’s natural to want to tell others about things you love. It’s a catalyst for life-long friendships and blossoming relationships. If we lose the ability to share music, we lose the ability to enjoy with others one of life’s most sacred pleasures.

The ongoing war between artists, record companies, and fans over file sharing misses a key fact: that the music industry is still trying to make money in the same way it did 60 years ago, ignoring the dawn of a new technological era.

By targeting file sharers, the industry is criminalising people who are simply looking to share their love of music.

A 14-year-old boy courting the affections of a special girl through special songs is not a criminal.

A university student in a dictatorial country looking for a voice from the free world is not a criminal.

A twenty-something blogger promoting the music he loves is not a criminal.

Who's fault is it anyway?
The scale of civil disobedience that goes on through file sharing does not reflect a problem with society, but rather a problem with the music industry. It’s a sector that continues to pursue an archaic form of product distribution that hasn’t evolved as its customers developed and embraced technology. It’s utterly reprehensible that we are targeted for the failing of an industry to move with the times. Don’t blame the innovators, blame those with no impulse to change.

The music industry’s business model no longer works. That much is clear. Yet some of the most creative and entrepreneurial minds in the world are at the head of organisations that give us the soundtracks to our lives. Are you telling me they can't develop a new business model that is as innovative as fans were in developing new ways to capture new music?

No-one wants the industry to die, yet its demise is what fans are accused of causing. Other industries have survived customer revolts by being dynamic and adaptable. It’s time the music industry was the same.

Tindersticks @ Shepherd's Bush Empire - 24 March 2010

2010-03-26T05:04:00.000-07:00

The thing about a Tindersticks gig is that you’re surrounded by dedicated followers. Throughout tonight’s show at Shepherd’s Bush Empire, a hushed silence is only broken when the band’s disciples shower the stage in approbation. The cue is a low, mumbled “thank you” from enigmatic frontman Stuart Staples. He’s experienced at controlling this. He’s coy, holding on until the last chord rings out of every tune before he lets us know it’s ok to display our affection.

Tonight feels like a show of two halves. Predictably, the band kicks off with Falling Down a Mountain, the title and opening track from their latest album. It’s a comfortably disjointed opener that puts the seven-piece band to work. But then they seem to slow down, playing slow, moving ballads, one after another. It’s hardly surprising, given Tindersticks’ back catalogue, but for a long time these gentle paeans don’t take off.

All that changes when a resounding version of The Other Side of the World announces itself. Although one of the band’s more recent tracks, this song seems to encompass everything Tindersticks is about. It’s perfect for Staples’ brooding baritone, and it lifts the band into action as they find their momentum.

It stays that way for the rest of the night, as Tindersticks thread seamlessly between new and old. Can We Start Again, the opening track from 1999’s Simple Pleasures, the first of the band’s foray into soul, is a crowd favourite, but given the way people are behaving tonight, a reading from the Old Testament by Staples alone would be enough to send this group of devotees home happy. In their eyes, Tindersticks could do nothing wrong.

Broken marriage chimes so sweet

2010-03-15T10:16:00.001-07:00

The super group and its belittled brother the side project are by no means a new phenomenon, having enjoyed their heyday back in the super-groupy 1970s. But collaborations are coming back to the fore - look at Jack White’s Raconteurs and The Dead Weather, Them Crooked Vultures , Velvet Revolver, Monsters of Folk and The Last Shadow Puppets, to name a few.

With live music thriving, bands are touring together more, meeting at festivals and building attraction. Yeah, Dave and little Eric and Ron are sweet, talented, good-looking guys, good musicians, but it’s just the same faces and always it’s the same songs, with the same chords, the same recipes every night. Out on tour you meet someone new, someone who’s had many partners; they have exciting ideas that touch you in places you forgot existed, you feel alive again, excited, you want to have an album with this man. Start a new life together even.

That social mixing may be one of the factors behind the increased musical ménages and maybe that’s the story behind new super duo Broken Bells.

So it presumably happened for James Mercer of The Shins (though he is clearly a serial monogamist, with the Shins being a side project itself), who, after ditching his former dependents, has hooked up with the very talented Mr Brian Burton, aka Danger Mouse, half of Gnarls Barkley and ‘super producer’ of a number of well-regarded albums of the last few years. Together they have formed Broken Bells and released their eponymous début.

This seems quite a departure for Mercer from his previous territory but his voice and lyrics suit the new style well. The album has a downbeat and haunted atmosphere, laced with drama and the intricately clever beats that Danger Mouse’s fans love him for. But there is a great deal of variety, even eccentricity - the cheerily-haunting Hammond warble on Vaporize, the hand-clappy reminder that The Ghost Inside gives of Danger Mouse’s production of the previous Gorillaz album, or the breakdown in Mongrel Heart, which could very well provide the backing for the heartbreaking dénouement of a Mexican gangster flick. I'm a big fan of all this.

It may be because it’s the track I’ve heard most but my favourite is the album’s opener, The High Road. The beeps, bleeps and stretched and twisted honks conjure up images of a robot switched on for the first time, making its first steps out of the packaging as we hear its rudimentary ability to bust a groove quickly maturing into a breezy electro-beatbox. A passing Mercer takes the opportunity to sing over it with a slightly melancholy but generally encouraging ditty.

With a similar vocal delivery on this album at least to a late-era Brain Wilson, Mercer’s laidback mumble gave me some exciting miss-hearings, as ‘To Nietzsche’s arm’ and ‘come on and get the meat to mom’ sadly turned out to be ‘To each his own’ and ‘Come on and get the minimum’.

It is in a number of the lyrics in the early album tracks - in The High Road particularly - where its seems more than just over-eager interpretation from me to find the pair are talking about moving into a new liaison, away from former musical kin, possibly for good:

The high road is hard to find
A detour to your new life
Tell all of your friends goodbye

It’s too late to change your mind.

Wild Beasts @ Koko - 4 March 2010

2010-03-09T03:12:00.000-08:00

If there’s one word that sums up tonight, it’s disorganised. And it’s not just the technical faults and meaningful glances off stage that plague Wild Beasts on what should be their crowning moment: it’s the constant lulls between songs to tune instruments; the missing of impactful intros while members toy with sounds; the uncertainty of which of the group’s two front men is leading proceedings.

The latter doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing. I don’t have a problem with sharing the limelight. In fact, the best moments of tonight’s show are when Hayden Thorpe and Tom Fleming jostle for position, pitting falsetto against baritone in a battle of mis-matched machismo (the crescendo of His Grinning Skull, with both vocalists wailing their respective grave-raiding directions, would certainly register as many an audience member’s highlight).

What hurts is to have to see either of these brutes step back to allow the other his moment. Here are two huge personalities, singing songs of ardent masculinity, and to see one defeated is to see a gladiator befallen. Tonight, the duelling that comes across so effectively on Two Dancers is lost.

And so it happens that the tracks from the superior studio album are overshadowed by those of its predecessor. Transferred out of the studio and onto the stage, Two Dancers lacks the lustre of Limbo, Panto. Although The Fun Powder Plot makes a superb opener, with an intricate bass line building alongside equally compelling drums, and All The King’s Men is a huge show of bravado, Two Dancers struggles to conjure up the flair of His Grinning Skull and Brave Bulging Buoyant Clairvoyant.

Fleming looks humbled as he introduces the latter track - their first single - reporting that this is the band's biggest show to date. If they didn't know that, I feel it might also have been their best, because unfortunately the occassion and their bid to make it perfect seems to have overwhelmed Wild Beasts.

The xx @ Shepherd's Bush Empire - 3 March 2010

2010-03-05T04:28:00.000-08:00

I must confess, I was unsure coming into tonight. I feared there wasn’t enough depth to The xx to support their live shows. I couldn’t picture how they would translate the simplicity of their album into an engaging performance. The departure of fourth member Baria Qureshi last year also made me edgy: how could this possibly work as a three-piece? But they showed me how – thoroughly.

This was a lesson on focus, on exploiting your assets, even on knowing when to say enough is enough. They’ve showed a maturity beyond their age, using the reduction in band members to refocus on what makes them great.

For The xx, it’s the vocals, and tonight they were perfect. Exposed almost to a point of absurdity, these voices needed to be pinpoint accurate. They were. Romy and Oliver were stark in their aloneness; comfortable in their togetherness. An a cappella show might almost have been warranted.

But then there was the bass. Oh the bass. I can’t remember a moment tonight when my body wasn’t ransacked by the droning, driving depth of the bass, not more so than during Fantasy, which left you almost levitating.

Shit.

It’s addictive.

I haven’t felt that since Radiohead played The Gloaming at Glastonbury in 2003. So utterly engulfed; at the mercy of a vibration.

Right from the start
From the beginning, it was clear The xx has worked on improving the experience of their live performances. They found the right formula for an opening, with a white screen draped across the stage projecting their simple but powerful X graphic as Intro kicked in. That was quickly replaced by flashing silhouettes of the three, working away at their stations until the screen dropped away to reveal them as they segued into Crystallised.

As this track climaxed, it almost sent the crowd into an early disco, but then they did what the album does so well – show restraint. They didn’t let themselves get carried away with themselves. It’s what The xx are about. It’s what makes them so lovable. They’re too clever to lose that in the moment of a live show.

They’ve also learned showmanship, moving together as a three piece to create a tighter unit, and lashing out at just the right moments, such as Oliver’s mallet-ridden finale of Basic Space.

I read something once that said watching The xx live was like watching a corpse on stage. Perhaps they saw the same comment, because surely their performances now can’t be accused of being anything but blinding.

Photography by Chris Parkinson

Local Natives @ Heaven - 2 March 2010

2010-03-02T15:56:00.000-08:00

There’s an unfortunate drone that fills Heaven tonight. I think it’s the sound of people who don’t want to be there, people who’ve acquired a ticket because of their contacts. Local Natives don’t deserve it, and to their credit, they don’t let it get to them. This is probably the biggest UK show they’ve played so far, and they’re not about to let it fall on deaf ears. The chatter can persist, but this Californian five piece will fight it ten times harder.

We’re lucky in the UK to have caught this stream four months early. Local Natives’ debut Gorilla Manor was released here in November last year, but has only just hit their home country’s shelves two weeks ago. It’s little wonder they want to treat us. And treat us they do.

They’re one of those bands that simply come alive on stage. All of a sudden, the four-prong vocal harmonies are smack bang in your face, the ad hoc percussion is jumping from all four walls, and the lead-heavy guitars pound you from right in front. These Californians leave no stone unturned; they destroy their one-album back catalogue, making the most of their multi-instrumentalism through gems such as Airplanes, Wide Eyes and Cubism Dream.

They’ve learned early how to suspend an audience too. As if Sun Hands wasn’t an emphatic enough finish, their return to stage with “our friend Paul” on trumpet gave us an even more resounding Stranger Things.

The mumblers might have been audible tonight, but fortunately they were drowned out by a band on the road to bigger and better things. If you missed out, look for them on 15th June at Shepherds Bush Empire.

An extravagant return

2010-03-01T14:47:00.000-08:00

I’m sitting here wondering how many multi-disc albums have really ever warranted their multiplicity. Smashing Pumpkins’ Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness immediately stands to attention. That was the perfect execution of a vision: two discs with distinct moods and sounds complementing each other to form a united front under a common theme. There are of course others, but I’m not here to dwell on the past.

Music, the way we listen to it and the way we relate to it, is ever-changing. The thing about listening to it on MP3 players these days is that there’s no natural break in the running of an album. When you hit play, the music keeps going until you hit stop; there’s no need to get up and swap sides or exchange discs. Maybe I’m missing the point; maybe I’m guilty of being part of a generation that doesn’t appreciate how music should be listened to. Nonetheless, I feel it’s harder than ever to pull off a multi-disc album.

Left waiting
We haven’t heard anything significant from Joanna Newsom in four years. She left us inescapably smitten after the gorgeous 2006 release Ys, then all but disappeared, taking from us her gentle and delicate, but equally eccentric, song writing. Those of us anxious to be engulfed again were left floundering. I thought her resurfacing would be nothing short of spectacular, but now she’s back, I don’t quite know where to turn.

Have One On Me is a three-disc epic that simply bombards you with her four years of absence. As a result we have to work our way through 18 tracks before we can fall head over heels again. Unfortunately, it’s simply too much work. The restraint an artist shows in paring down their work to the best tracks they can muster is half the art of making a great album. Sometimes, though, they fall foul of their own egos and refuse to believe that we can do without any of their work. I can’t help but feel this is one of those occasions.

There are elements of delight within these three discs. Tracks such as Kingfisher, Autumn and Go Long retain the simplicity and charm that Joanna Newsom and her harp execute so effortlessly, while In California shows her to still be capable of inspiration and intensity. But to expect us to patiently navigate through so much after four years of waiting? I’m afraid that’s just a little too egotistical.

Fortunately, on stage artists need to show more restraint and hand pick the songs that best suit the mood, venue and audience of a live show. I’m in no doubt that the Royal Festival Hall on 11-12 May will be treated to an evening of exceptional poise and measured prestige. Let’s hope so, because something needs to justify this extravagant album.

Start as you mean to go on

2010-02-11T14:46:00.000-08:00

It’s nice to see the new year get off to a good start, to be able to fill your ears with new releases unburdened by the expectation of Christmas sales. If January is anything to go by, this year London will be awash with intelligent, crafty new sounds and old favourites finding new form.

Here’s what I’m listening to and why:

• Japandroids’ new album Post-Nothing revels in intense, lo-fi guitars, distorted to just the right level; rough enough to keep them unpretentious and fresh, slick enough to reveal an undercurrent of classic guitar riffing. The key to this album is that strong melodies and catchy choruses keep it accessible. They’re supporting the album with a show at the ICA on February 23rd. It won’t disappoint.

• Husky Recue come back with their third album, Ship of Light. These tracks challenge and test you with fresh beats and innovative sounds, while comforting and consoling you with the familiar vocals of Reeta-Leena Korhola. How this band has managed to stay predominantly under the radar to date is unfathomable, but equally beneficial for those in the know. Islington Academy hosts them on March 5th. Do it before the rest realise what they’re missing out on.

• Tindersticks fly the flag for the stalwarts with Falling Down a Mountain. It’s a business-as-usual release from the Nottingham legends, lacking the showpieces that graced their previous album, The Hungry Saw, and with a couple of questionable inclusions. Nonetheless, there’s something reassuring about knowing there are bands out there that can just keep on producing. They’re one of those bands that will always have an aura to them live – March 24th at Shepherds Bush Empire will no doubt be the same.

• Fanfarlo’s Reservoir is a resounding debut, rich with horns and explosive percussion. It takes from all that’s currently popular, capitalising on the overwhelming penchant to have three or four vocalists harmonising through a barrage of instrumentation. Despite the activity, they make it work. To see it live would, no doubt, be a pleasure. If you were lucky enough to catch them with Jesca Hoop in Bristol on Tuesday, more power to you. If not, get to the ULU tonight (12th February) for what will surely be a blinder.

On another note, RIP Alexander McQueen. If our musicians can be as out there and boundary pushing as he was, we’re in for a great future.

Top ten 2009 - The Rest!

2010-01-07T13:03:00.000-08:00

I missed the cut-off point! So here are the final four in my top ten of 2009 in a snapshot:

- Beirut, March of the Zapotec

- The Low Anthem, Oh My God, Charlie Darwin

- A Mountain of One, Institute of Joy

- Florence and the Machine, Lungs

So there it is - 2009 in a nutshell. Apologies for the anticlimactic finish. I hope it elicited some reaction. Some albums are in there because they defined the sound of the year, some are in there because they stretched the boundaries of imagination, some are in there because they simply continue to excel at creating great music. All of them are in there because the music is evocative and beautiful in its own way. Let's hope 2010 is just as fruitful.

Top ten 2009 - Local Natives, Gorilla Manor

2009-12-29T06:58:00.000-08:00

When a new band emerges, there’s always a tendency to define their music with those that have come before. The intense harmonies and vibrant, summery beats of Local Natives’ debut have drawn comparisons with Fleet Foxes, Vampire Weekend and other buzz bands of the past two years. All are valid, but what differentiates this Californian five-piece from the others is the feeling of collectiveness that exudes from Gorilla Manor.

The album is named after the house they shared together in Orange County and the result is a group of gifted young musicians who are clearly comfortable with each other’s musicianship. There’s a natural camaraderie to these songs, but the simple percussive extras and harmonious wails add personal moments throughout, giving Local Natives a vibrancy and uniqueness that so many of their peers lack. Yes, it’s poppy. Yes, it’s a summertime album. But from time to time it helps to feel rejuvenated.

What to listen out for.
Wide Eyes, Sun Hands, Cubism

When to listen to it.
Lying in hammock with a beer and some sunshine

Will we hear them again?
Local Natives’ stated intention is to avoid being a buzz band. Their acclaim from appearances at Austin’s South by South West festival earlier this year lifted them dangerously close to that status, however. They would do well to remain low-key for a while and build up a critical following before backing up Gorilla Manor with another of its ilk.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QuljnrCfBNw

Top ten 2009 - The Mummers, Tale to Tell

2009-12-20T12:44:00.000-08:00

Once you hear this album, it comes as little surprise to find out that it was recorded in a tree house studio near Brighton, where 20 or so musicians spent two years climbing a ladder to access the equipment that would immortalise their expanse of orchestral contraptions. The subsequent abundance of sounds conjures up images of a travelling troupe holding court in front of whoever would listen. It’s not a coincidence, then, that they were christened The Mummers by their two lynchpins – vocalist Raissa Khan-Panni and musician Mark Horwood.

Tale to Tell’s orchestral nonsense creates a carnival atmosphere, with Khan-Panni’s sumptuous vocals and lyrical daydreams keeping this album melodic and approachable. It’s a bold, eclectic and vibrant romp that avoids alienating its audience. Expect to be transported to a world of make believe, but in a way that keeps you grounded. It’s good, eccentric fun.

What to listen out for.
March of the Dawn, Tale to Tell, Teardropsfall

When to listen to it.
Without wanting to mocks its brilliance, this should be the arrival music for any fancy dress party.

Will we hear them again?
Sadly, the treehouse studio that was home to this album also saw Horwood hang himself in September this year. I hope Khan-Panni manages to return to a studio, but her history as a musician seems to be an ill-fated one, and Horwood's untimely death will no doubt make it hard for her to come back.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_UMMu_KBRy8

Top ten 2009 - Bill Callahan, Sometimes I Wish We Were an Eagle

2009-12-13T11:08:00.000-08:00

Bill Callahan has one of the most distinctive voices in folk. Even if you don’t know the name, the chances are his bare, almost banal, vocals will sound familiar. Nearly 20 years after he released his first album as Smog, Callahan maintains the individuality that has brought him so much success, even having done away with his former moniker for his two latest releases.

It’s as though Callahan’s found honesty in his song writing. When you listen to this album, you feel like he’s taking you by the hand and walking you through his past as he pauses to reflect. His rhymes remain impossible, his music is still eccentric, but somehow it’s more accessible than ever. These imperfections continue to define Callahan and make everything he does exquisite.

What to listen out for.
Jim Cain, Eid Ma Clack Shaw, Rococo Zephyr

When to listen to it.
Maybe over an intimate dinner.

Will we hear them again?
Callahan has song writing in his blood. I imagine he can’t go a day without putting a lyric to a melody. We’ve had 20 years of his work, and I expect we’ll have 20 more.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KTmzYfzuidw

Music industry supports global emissions deal

2009-12-08T06:18:00.001-08:00

Excuse this brief interlude to the Top Ten 2009 campaign, but I think it's important. I hope you do too.

It appears I spoke too soon in a previous post. The music industry has formed a united front in calling for a deal on emissions out of the Copenhagen Summit. I wish I could share their optimism that a meaningful deal can be struck in the next fortnight, but I guess I'm an old-fashioned cynic when it comes to international cooperation.

What the release does show, however, is a distinct commitment on the part of the music industry to reduce its impact. The 100 signatures on this release feature some influential names - a sure sign that there are people willing to bring us great music at a lower carbon price.

As fans, our commuting to and from gigs has the biggest climate impact of all (as proven by Best Foot Forward's analysis of Radiohead's 2007 tour). I think it's important to bear that in mind.

Top ten 2009 - Soulsavers, Broken

2009-12-07T14:58:00.000-08:00

The more I listen to this album, the more I’m touched by the intricacies that make it a classic: the relentless lead guitars played by someone who just doesn’t know when to say enough is enough; the understated vocal support from Red Ghost that tempers the emotion of lead vocalist Mark Lanegan; or the subtle clinking of ice cubes as two of rock's finest share a microphone over a whiskey.

I’ve already given this album its dues (see Where Have I Been?), so let’s move on. The end of the year is nigh.

What to listen out for.
Unbalanced Pieces, Some Misunderstanding, Praying Ground

When to listen to it.
After a break-up. This will guide you through all the necessary highs and lows and eventually leave you rejoicing.

Will we hear them again?
Undoubtedly. Soulsavers have a strong cult following and their third album will have done enough moments to pique the interests of the mainstream.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CRomQF_eBuk

Top ten 2009 - Wild Beasts, Two Dancers

2009-12-02T14:41:00.000-08:00

There’s a danger with a band like Wild Beasts that they could be overwhelmed by the novelty factor; that vocals like Hayden Thorpe’s could tip them the wrong side of burlesque. With their previous album, Limbo, Panto, there was a risk the Leeds four-piece was entering an inescapable world of farce, doomed to forever accompany The Tiger Lillies on their indefinite world tours (not that that would be a bad thing for anyone).

But with Two Dancers Wild Beasts have successfully fused melodic pop and indie flair. The vocals feel more restrained this time around, but still give the band an edge – something original to differentiate them from the swarming NME brigade. This is a serious rock album, but deliciously laced with a touch of the absurd.

What to listen out for.
The Fun Powder Plot, All the King’s Men, This is our Lot

When to listen to it.
During morning ablutions – it wakes you, lifts you and gives you a great chance to wail in the shower

Will we hear them again?
Wild Beasts have had time to develop. They’ve been nursed through the difficult first years of their career by the country’s finest music pundits and have come out as a mature, accomplished band. They’ve got a sound that is instantly recognisable and easily lovable. There’ll be many more like Two Dancers.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4sxh5zMbNAo

Top ten 2009 - The xx, XX

2009-11-27T18:06:00.000-08:00

Every so often, an album comes along that speaks to you in a way only the most intimate of lovers knows how. With every note, every beat, every lyric, you feel you’ve been engulfed by some higher being.

The xx is nothing more than a simple London four piece. They might have been educated in the same hallowed halls that spawned luminaries such as Burial, Hot Chip and Four Tet, but with this intricate debut they’ve discovered among themselves a formula that is as comforting, wholesome and pure as it is fresh, fragile and free. For me, the only problem is that it doesn’t go for long enough.

What to listen out for.
Shelter, Basic Space, Night Time

When to listen to it.
Whenever you get the chance, but maybe at 4am with plenty of candles and a group of close friends setting the world to rights

Will we hear them again?
They’ve entered a difficult place – a lot of people adore them early in their career. You almost wish they had a few failures before they landed this big one.

They've backed up their debut with a remix of You've Got the Love by fellow Londoner Florence and the Machine. While popular, I think it smacks of a band in danger of losing their originality to this city's love of compered club nights and faux dub step. I think they need to stay true to what's pure to them. To be here in a year, The xx need to reproduce the passion that engulfed them in recording this album. They simply need to love the music again as much as they loved these 11 tracks.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pib8eYDSFEI

Top ten albums of 2009

2009-11-27T18:03:00.000-08:00

What makes a great album? Surely something innovative. Definitely an element of class. Without doubt a little piece of personality.

Beauty is always in the eye of the beholder and I would never try to impose myself upon anyone. But for those who are interested, I begin today my top ten from 2009. They come in no particular order, but I guess you can assume the passion I have for each by the desire I have to write about them.

Tell me what you think.

Guilty pleasures

2009-11-19T14:43:00.000-08:00

If 2008 signalled the resurgence of folk, surely 2009 will be handed to the flamboyant world of indie girl pop. With the likes of Bat for Lashes releasing her second album, Florence and the Machine dazzling with her first, Little Boots walking all over the charts and La Roux, Lady Gaga and Ladyhawke filling venues generally reserved for the trendiest of indies, the UK's music scene has been well and truly taken over.

Each makes a concerted effort to distance herself from their pop star peers with an elaborate outfit and a crafty beat. But the fact remains that their albums are topping the charts. There's every chance that you're listening to the same music as a 14-year-old girl. Sometimes you just can't help but put some metal on straight after indulging yourself.

I find it helps to embrace it. Find the ones that you relate to and mock those you don't. Bat for Lashes will always have a place in my heart and I've not been able to avoid the freight train that Florence has come riding in on.

Now I'm opening myself up to Ellie Goulding. She seems to have an edginess that could have seen her fronting a rock band a la Karen O in another life. Maybe something will reveal itself at Cargo on 1st December, maybe I'll be forced to explain myself here in six months. But I listen to enough heavy stuff to confortably stomach the embarrassment. Come with me on this...

Two voices better than one?

2009-10-12T14:31:00.000-07:00

When Gomez burst onto the scene in 1998, a defining part of their resounding debut, Bring it On, was the multiple vocalists. It differentiated them from the others. Each of the three lead vocalists was strong enough to carry a song solo, but together they truly shone. It was certainly not a new formula, but they carried it out perfectly and it has served them successfully through their career ever since that emphatic debut.

It’s also a formula that’s becoming less popular and harder to pull off. Not so with The xx. Sure, the male/female combination is an easy win. Nonetheless, Oliver Sim and Romy Madley Croft have produced a precious double act. Individually, their voices lull you into a deep, ponderous dream. Combined, the speakers exude palpable energy. Perhaps the fact that they’re apparently best friends helps, because they also seem to know when to rein each other in. Sim’s muted harmonies harness Croft’s anguish without robbing her of her moment. Equally, when Sim needs a lift, Croft answers with measured intensity.

Like Bring It On 11 years ago, there’s a lot to love about this eponymous debut, but nothing more so than the exquisite tones trembling through the microphones.

Rockers vs the planet

2009-08-27T15:11:00.000-07:00

I’m not one for mixing business and pleasure, but in my world they’ve crossed paths. A few weeks ago environmentalists launched an assault on U2. They lambasted the band’s latest world tour as extravagant and hypocritical – rather an accurate argument given the cloak of Developing World Ambassador that Bono has donned.

But why’s it taken the green-fingered brigade so long to point at our rock gods? For two decades we’ve been on the back of the world’s multinationals, laying into them at the first sniff of excess – and how they deserved it. But the whole time bands have travelled round the world in private jets and gas-guzzling limos, with entourages to rival Obama, and it's all slipped under the radar. We’ve always forgiven our rock stars because they give us something irreplaceable; something that gives our lives meaning and inspiration. Scolding them would be as unbearable as spanking our children for smiling. Unfortunately, the urgency of climate change has taken over. Our rock stars are no longer forgivable.

U2 say they’ll offset the carbon emissions generated by their tour (ie they’ll give money to others who reduce emissions elsewhere by investing in things like renewable energy). But they don’t tell us how they figure it all out. Are we to simply trust they’ll get it right?

Take, take, take
It’s typical Bono. As the voice of poverty relief, the only philosophy he espoused was giving something back to the countries and the people from whom it had been taken. He never considered that it shouldn’t have been taken from them in the first place. Here he is again, milking the planet and thinking that throwing some money at it will fix everything. It’s not good enough.

Fortunately, there are more astute people to look up to. Radiohead were the first band to acknowledge this issue. Make no mistake, they had to. Thom Yorke threw himself into environmental campaigning and became the voice of Friends of the Earth and if they had have taken off on yet another world tour without contemplating the impact, Bono’s status of music’s biggest villain would have become untenable. So in 2007 Radiohead got some professionals to scrutinise how they tour, and suggest tips on doing it better.

The results may have been simple – hold gigs in central locations so fans can get there on public transport, ship rather than fly equipment around the world, have a stage and lighting rig in each continent, use energy-efficient lighting, among others – but it was the first time anyone had owned up to the responsibility. These changes are now part and parcel of their tours, and everyone is better off because of it.

Unfortunately, a collective movement from the world’s rockers has been about as forthcoming as a Stone Roses reunion. But with the greens now raging at the likes of U2, surely it’s only a matter of time.

Where have I been?

2009-08-20T14:07:00.000-07:00

There’s only so much you can do. You can read all the music periodicals. You can download free MP3s suggested at LastFM. You can join album clubs. Sometimes bands just slip through the net. I’ve come late to more great musicians than I’d care to admit, but I’ve always made up for lost time.

I heard my first Tindersticks album in 2006 – 14 years after their debut. The Hungry Saw blew me away. I immediately set out to piece together the back catalogue of a band that was more in tune with my emotions than my own inner monologue. It was a lot, and 14 years of my life seem irretrievably gone.

Nick Cave is another. I always knew he was there, but I never knew why. And then Abattoir Blues was put in front of me and it all came together. I fiercely examined the history books and tracked down my lost heritage, immersing myself in some of music’s most audacious lyrics and seemingly impossible melodies.

A musical saviour
And now there’s Soulsavers. It’s funny how some bands capture their sound and mood in their name so effortlessly, when others get it so hopelessly wrong. Listening to Broken, Soulsavers’ latest offering, I genuinely feel like my spirit has been retrieved from an abyss.

This is a superb album. Mark Lanegan’s gruff vocals create a mood dark and foreboding. An extravagant use of minor chords raises inexplicable emotions. The lyrics leave you contemplative and brooding. Yet somehow you walk away from it feeling uplifted. It might have something to do with the pervasive, gospel-esque backing vocals throughout.

This time I’m not as out of the loop as I have been: they’ve only been going since 2003 and their back catalogue comprises two other albums. Nonetheless, that’s six years of my life that could have been a whole lot more special. The Relentless Garage next week will bring it to life. In the meantime, I’ve got some catching up to do. And I can’t wait.

What friends are for

2009-08-12T14:05:00.000-07:00

I played bass in a band when I was 17. I thought we rocked. Our drummer was a natural, his smooth beats having been crafted through 14 years of love for the skins. Our guitarist was classically trained and had moved to the electric only when he was comfortable the former had been mastered. It showed. Our front man was so suited to the role his lyrics dripped a mournfulness matched only by the fragility of his emotions at such a tender age.

Meanwhile, I was desperately trying to instil myself as manager so that when they all realised my single-note bass lines weren’t up to scratch, I’d still have a role to cling onto.

Our pals were encouraging, but you could always tell when compliments had to fight their way past clenched teeth and more often than not they came coupled with a set of wandering eyes. As a result, you’ll rarely hear me give an opinion free of constructive criticism. Even if I don’t necessarily believe it, I find it’s a more honest response than to let your friends continue trotting merrily down their Yellow Brick Road.

Sometimes, though, you can’t help but gush. And what a pleasure when that happens.

The first was our guitarist all those years ago. Recording with Memoria, he virtually created a genre, producing an acoustic metal album so accomplished it’s hard to explain why the band aren’t already lauded alongside the metal greats.

And now we’re blessed with Neon Highwire. Their tunes come at you at breakneck speed and leave you wondering if their self-description of “nihilistic deeply distorted bass driven house” is sufficiently intense. They’re playing Friday night and next Monday at 93 Feet East. Do yourselves a favour.

There’s only one thing better than loving good music, and that’s associating with the visionaries that produce it.

http://www.memoria.com.au/
www.myspace.com/neonhighwire

Why don't venues matter anymore?

2009-08-06T12:46:00.000-07:00

I grew up in a city desperately short of good music venues. When a musician of any worth came to town, they would pack as many people as they could into the local entertainment centre, put on a show - two if their name had any stature - and catch the next plane out. Watching videos of Faith No More at the Brixton Academy and Radiohead at the Astoria in my youth helped me escape, as I dreamt of the day I'd finally be able to watch bands I loved in an atmosphere that complemented their music.

When I came here ten years ago, that was the first thing I did. Granted, my introduction to Brixton was during an early Coldplay gig, but forgive me, I was young. Nonetheless, the ornate interior, the sloping floor and the decent acoustics had me hooked. I've spent countless nights indulging myself at the Academy since, not least a few months ago when Faith No More returned to their spiritual UK home.

And there are other great places to see music in London. Until it was taken from us the Astoria was grimy enough to make you think you were are hardened rocker. Shepherds Bush Empire can put on a show, the surrounds of Somerset House make it a treat for a week every summer and the acoustics of the Royal Festival Hall are enough to bring joy to the most tonedeaf eardrums. I'm sure there are others out there that I can't wait to experience.

So why is it that so many decent acts show such disregard for where they bring their fans? To me, the venue is second only to the setlist. Yet the number of times a great show has been beaten lifeless by an appalling venue astounds me.

The past year is not short of examples: Sigur Ros have a majestic sound that they chose to lose to the hollow, cavernous roof of Alexandra Palace; Antony Heggarty's voice requires an intimacy and delicateness rarely found outside concert halls, yet he and his Johnsons sat us in the sterile concrete walls of Hammersmith Apollo; the moody soundscapes of Stuart Staples and Tindersticks would be best embraced by a lavish theatre, but we were forced to feel like second-rate festival-goers as their headline show made use of a vacant slot in a lifeless tent in Hyde Park. I won't even begin to talk about arenas.

We're so lucky to live in a city with the wealth of fantastic live music venues that London has. I for one would appreciate it if the bands we love would pay a little more attention to it.