No Wave.

Hello, It's Us Again

2010-12-18T15:23:00.005+02:00

I know we've been awfully quiet for a while now, but we promise to make up for it. We've changed hq, joined a new team, and now you can find us here at IMACS. Hope you'll enjoy this new site and the articles.

UPDATE 14 February 2011. And just in case you were wondering, we use our real names on the new site. I'm Raluca, Nancy is Ana. Thought you should know about this. Enjoy the reading. Love, Leilana.

The Same Music

2010-11-16T14:57:00.006+02:00

Some called them one of the most influential and innovative British bands of the '90s. Others called them too experimental and obscure for their own good. Whatever your opinion is, one thing is clear: Stereolab are not a band that can just be ignored. They've been around since 1990, released nine studio albums to date, and managed to survive a lot of line-up changes (including the death of one of their members back in 2002).

However, even the toughest of us need a break every once in a little while. Last year, it has been announced that the band will go into indefinite hiatus – and that probably broke the hearts of many people. In spite of that, or maybe because of that, they also scheduled for November 2010 the release of their tenth studio album, called Not Music. Now, you might ask: Not Music as in "This is not music, this is something above music, and you should be grateful you listen to it" or as in "We're making no music for you from now on, ungrateful bastards, so listen to this and realise what you had lost!!!". Who knows? Perhaps both of them.

If there is one thing Stereolab were especially good at (except the fact they always made people believe they have Marx's photo hidden in their wallets), then that must have been their amazing ability of making music that managed to sound different each time, and yet still the same. In time, that became their trademark, and of course the surprise element had been lost. So it will be only natural for you to think Not Music follows the same pattern they got us used to.

And it does indeed. First, Laetitia Sadier's mysterious vocals are the same as always, and it will make you wish you were born a French able to speak English (and thus able to understand her better). Second, the sound had not changed a bit. In a way, that's a really good thing. It spreads the same vintage and warm feeling in the air as it always did, making you feel at ease. Unfortunately, this is not enough to keep your attention all of the time. It surely is nice as background music, but it lacks any kind of sparkle. Sadly enough, perhaps the most interesting moment of the album is Atlas Sound's remix of Neon Beanbag, but that does nothing but to prove you what a great musician Bradford Cox is.

It would be exaggerating and unfair to call Not Music a bad album. Rather than that, this is the type of album, you hear, play and enjoy without truly loving it with all your heart. In a way, it makes you think it's better Stereolab decided to take a break, but it also makes you wish for them to return in a couple of years with a new release able to remind you why you fell in love with them in the first place. Let's say that for now it will do.

*Photo courtesy of Stereolab's official site.

Not Yet, But Close Enough

2010-10-28T18:03:00.005+03:00

Suede is not a band that needs any introductions, as you've probably heard thousand of times things like "the resurrection of British music", "the band that appeared on a cover of a magazine before even releasing a single" or "the ones that started the Britpop movement". So I'll start this article by mentioning a simple fact. When they disbanded, back in 2003, Brett Anderson stated "There will be another Suede record. But not yet."

This year, Suede reformed and that made the hearts of many people beat faster. At this moment, however, it's still unclear if the above mentioned new record will ever see the light of day. What it's truly clear is that they still love each other, and if the gigs played until now weren't enough proof, the release of their new material surely is. "New" is perhaps an inappropriate way of describing it, as it seems to be a memento rather than a comeback. The material is called The Best of Suede and it's their first official release in seven years. Chris Potter was involved in the remastering of the songs, together with Brett Anderson and Bernard Butler. Yes, that Bernard Butler. Who said that miracles ceased to exist?

The album spans two discs. The first one features all of their singles, with the exception of Positivity (nothing surprising there, as Anderson talks about this song as being the one that destroyed the band) and Attitude. The second disc is a mix of various songs from their first three albums and several B-sides that also appeared on their Sci-Fi Lullabies compilation.

While it's true that Suede's lyrics were never too diversified (we all know Anderson's lyrical obsessions with drugs, relationships and fashion and how he could never get rid of them), it's also true the instrumentals are pure genius in all aspects, even after so many years. And that's it. No more words are needed, as it's impossible to properly describe songs like The Drowners, We Are the Pigs, Trash or Killing of a Flash Boy without writing in caps lock the word "epic" after each one of them. And honestly, reading a whole "epic" paragraph serves neither your purposes nor ours.

In more simple words, The Best of Suede is finger-licking and a wonderful way to (re)introduce the audience to their music. If you're familiar only with their singles and unfamiliar with the rest of their songs, this disc will serve as a perfect beginning for you. If you're a connoisseur, the best you can do is put your headphones, close your eyes and remember how damn good this band is. And who knows? Perhaps Anderson will remember his own words and in a few months we'll be able to write about the sixth Suede album.

All His Songs

2010-10-23T12:53:00.001+03:00

Moronic and douchy behavior seems to be the standard nowadays. And it’s mostly the people who call every band that seems different or they haven’t heard of a hipster hence douche band. (Yes, we know hating hipsters is cool now and, guess what, this makes you cool… hence a hipster) Sadly, Toronto-native John O’Regan, better known as Diamond Rings, is bound to get the same treatment. With his blond Vanilla Ice-like coif, rainbow eye make-up, choreographed Gaga-like videos and words like “highly anticipated” used by the whole of the blogosphere, he does seem like an easy pray.

Luckily, for the rest of us, he is in fact just a very creative artist who is not afraid to explore and experiment. Irony, pastiche and all things concerning postmodernism aside, his love for 80’s new-wave and 90’s techno beats, his nostalgia for all things neon-coloured and all glittery eyeliner, his Ian McCulloch-scented voice are all beautifully entangled on his “long awaited” (yes, I did) debut, Special Affection.

While O’Regan might put up a mask in his videos, his lyrics are like a bleeding heart. When he said the writing the words to his songs is his favourite part, he sure wasn’t lying. They do tie up the album wonderfully. It’s all about one big catharsis, a stand for independence (and sometimes he sounds like a woman trying to break free from all conventions), all wrapped in the album finale All Yr Songs. “I’ve been bad and mean to you, but you right my wrongs/ I do try, you know I love to sing all your songs” he muses as he finally says it loud and clear that it was all about needing someone who hurts and is hurt by him.

His songs are built on a great simplicity: he uses pretty much the same two drum-patterns, some synth work and a lot of his heavy voice. But what makes him finger-licking is the shamelessness with which he creates one infectious POP song after the other out of so little. Glitter, smeared makeup and no apologies. And while it’s all just the extension of one Bowie-esque flamboyant persona, he spreads his wings more than once. The intro, Play By Heart, creates strange goth layers thanks to its piano and soaring vocals. He dwells in cheerleading chanting like on Give It Up. The cinematic It’s Not My Party uses heavy distorts to build up a wonderful tension before the ‘show it all’ last track. And, while Show Me Your Stuff is not on the album, You Oughta Know fills in the shoes of the hard-glittered new wave song just wonderfully.

Sure, most songs have been around since 2009. But this does not take away any bit of the album’s greatness. And, if it was necessary to say it anymore, Special Affections with all its RESPECT ME vibe is a wonderful almost 10/10 pop gem, melodies sparkling with a force that laughs hard in the face of all douchebags who think he is nothing more but a poser.

All You Need Is Just A Little Patience

2010-10-22T22:15:00.009+03:00

When you hear someone saying Wish You Were Here, the first thing that comes to your mind is Pink Floyd. So I guess this might be a good reason for The Concretes to call their new album WYWH instead of Wish You Were Here. After all, everyone wants to be original, right? However, in certain aspects, this band is not exactly your type of regular indie pop band. They started as a trio back in 1995, now they're eight and only a person left the band. Pretty unusual.

But let's focus on their new release, because that's the main reason you are reading this article, no? It's hard to say something about this album after the first listening other than that it's the same old recipe. As you might have guessed, it's not because the songs are a hard pill to swallow whole. The Concretes are well known for composing songs that include heavy orchestration, while being at the same time pop-friendly and light. The tracks on WYWH make no exception, being really nice and lovely and bringing you peace in your soul yada yada. The problem is that this is the only impression you'll be left with after the first listening. The album serves as a really nice background – too much friendliness, but no sparkling.

However, if you're a person who does not give up too easily, you'll probably press the play button again. And it will definitely serve you right. It takes two, even three listenings to completely understand and enjoy the instrumentals. Yes, they are light and keep a simple path, but sometimes it takes a lot of hard work to achieve simplicity. It's true there's nothing chaotic here, nothing anxious, nothing that will change the meaning of the world as you knew it. But every single drum beat, every guitar chord, every organ note seem to be especially written to illustrate the meaning of the word "harmony". It seems like The Concretes wanted to prove us there are two things that will stay the same until the end: the law of gravity and their music (and I'm not quite positive about the first one).

And after you've listened to this album three times, you might be surprised to realise that there are actually some songs that ask for their rights to your love and appreciation. Like Good Evening, the first track, a song built on a really simple drum beat, with guitar coming as reinforcement. Or Crack In the Paint that starts with a really interesting organ and throws in every now and then some horns. There's also Sing For Me with its eerie instrumental that serves more as a background for the amazing vocals and WYWH, perhaps the most catchy song on the album, with a rhythmic beat that will force you to tap your foot from the start till the end.
And while WYWH might disappoint those of you who are not patient enough or/and in a hurry, these tracks prove that, if you'll pay enough attention, you'll realise there's much more of it than it seems at the first listening.

*photo courtesy of The Concretes' MySpace.

An Autumn Dream

2010-10-19T16:10:00.008+03:00

Some say autumn is perhaps the most depressing season of the year. Dead leaves, cold rains, the feeling that everything that has a beginning also has an end... you get the main picture. Thus, to call an album Autumn, Again might seem self-explanatory, perhaps even a bit disappointing for those of you who are craving after complicated and sophisticated metaphors. However, it's A Sunny Day in Glasgow we're talking about here, so leave behind every preconception you might have.

The story of this band is rather a happy one, including two critical-acclaimed albums (in spite of the multiple line-up changes). So it's only natural for you to ask yourself with what they've come up this time. Well, if we were to talk in terms of sound change, there's nothing much to say. But A Sunny Day in Glasgow was never the kind of band that can be labeled or associated properly with other bands and music genres. Even from their first album, it seemed that their main goal was to reinvent the meaning of the word "dream". And the story continues successfully with this new release.

You get it from the first seconds of listening. It's still there, you can feel it: a sound as delicate as you knew it, simple without being boring. It makes you feel dizzy, happy, nostalgic, and takes you far away, into a world where everything is possible, including floating on the air. The songs merge into each other so well and naturally, that you'll probably reach the fifth song without actually realising what happened. The impression of a never-ending dream is accentuated by the vocals, which are as eerie and beautiful as you remember them.

There are indeed certain moments (less than you'd maybe want) when the dream becomes more colourful. Fall in Love, the second track, will amaze you with its rhythmic beats, bubbly electronic sounds and voices that seem to be taken directly from heaven. Drink Drank Drunk is the kind of song which makes you dance while sleepwalking, whilst How Does Somebody Say When They Like You? carries a feeling of insecurity and timidity that will strongly remind you of your teenage years. And Calling It Love Isn't Love (Don't Fall In Love) is a wonderful mix of acoustic and electronic guitars – exaggerating a little, we could call it the "rock" moment of the album.

Autumn, Again might not be A Sunny Day in Glasgow's finest moment (their debut album keeps holding successfully that position), but is a really fine release, nothing less than we expected from them. Don't miss it, it's for free. I really mean it.

You can download Autumn, Again from here

*Photo courtesy of A Sunny Day in Glasgow' official site.

Panda World

2010-10-17T12:03:00.001+03:00

Yes, we are completely aware yesterday’s post was about Avery Tare and today’s post is about Panda Bear. But this is in no way turning into an Animal Collective appreciation blog. We promise. In fact, we even promise to bitch about them if given the opportunity. Which means that right now we’ll just be happy that Panda Bear has a pretty awesome new single, You Can Count On Me. It kinda feels like a song straight out of Lion King so we can reminiscence about our childhood and those carefree days. It’s eerie and creates a dream world so it turns out to be a wonderful timeless recording. It’s so soothing that you can easily leave it on repeat for hours without even realizing it.

Where You Can Count On Me is sparse and leaves each instrument space to breath, Alsatian Darn, the single’s b-side, while maintaining the tribal feel and the dream-like state, is much more dense and darker. If the a-side is simple, the b-side has layers that are introduced with each second that passed and just when you’d think there was nothing else Panda could bring to the table.

Opportunity to bitch: when is Tomboy EP coming out, goddamn? Fall/winter 2010 is not a proper answer, ok? But I guess it’s only fair to say that, for now, these two songs will do just fine.(For now!) So press that repeat button and let yourself immerse in Panda Bear’s world.

Up and Down

2010-10-15T17:43:00.007+03:00

It's safe to count Animal Collective amongst those bands that have at least a disc release every year. Let's not mention their side-projects. Apparently these people are too creative for their own good. So I guess no one actually got surprised when Avey Tare announced he will release a solo album. Actually the thought that it was about bloody time might have crossed many people's minds. Some say his favourite animal, the crocodile, played a big role in Down There. Fair enough, if we think at the artwork, and also weird. Not that weirdness would be something unusual in Avey's world.

The first single Lucky 1 made even more people bite their nails and wait impatiently for this album. The obsessively repetitive sounds in the background and the dreamy vocals were not something one could forget that easily. It was wonderfully disturbing. So of course one would expect for the record to follow the same path. And in a way, it really does.

The release as a whole is dark, claustrophobic and absurdly insane. You can almost imagine Avey with a know-it-all smile on his face, whispering softly "Hi, I came to play with your heads, do you mind?". And indeed, Laughing Hieroglyphic, the first track, starts with some words that are impossible to understand and continues with an obsessive and simplistic beat, dubbed by Avey's mesmerizing voice. It's perhaps one of the best opening tracks we've listened to in a while. And the awesomeness continues with 3 Umbrellas, an enigmatic, chaotic and complex piece, vocally as well as instrumentally, the kind of song that requires numerous plays to be understoond properly.

Ghost of Books' electronic beat will hammer your head and haunt you for days and most likely you'll end stalking your friends, trying to explain to them how that beat reinvented the meaning of "awesome". Cemeteries can be called the more relaxed moment of the album. Its instrumental and vocals make you believe you don't actually listen to it, but rather you dream of it. Then Heather in the Hospital carries you so far away from your time and space, that at the end you are simply unable to explain why you liked this track so much.

It's true, at certain points (most notable in Oliver Twist), Avey's craziness becomes way too much for one to handle, and the sound switches from insane to insanely boring, making you repeatedly wonder what's next. But despite this, Down There's a really nice release, and if you want to feel the effects of some illegal drugs without actually try them, then I guess this is the best choice you could make.

Age Of The Odd

2010-10-08T12:08:00.000+03:00

Sufjan Stevens comes from a weird place. Spiritually weird place. He’s one of those artists who, even if hearing for the first time, are able to send instant chills down your spine and the sheer memory of their songs (a string here, one lingering vocal there) gives you goosebumps. With one album, Illinois, that can be considered a symbol of US indie and a series of Christmas installments, Sufjan is the kind of man who one could expect just about anything from. The fact that he was said to go full Digital Ash In The Digital Urn on us with his newest album was something like a new colourful ball added to the collection.

The Age of Adz aka the latest release is still strange for an electronica album because, at first, it doesn’t strike you as a ‘very electronic’ album. And by “at first”, I mean the opener Futile Devices. Title-aside, this two-minutes plus is nothing but a haunting string wonder and probably the only electronic thing about it is the fact that electricity was involved in the recording process. Not that this would be a bad thing.

So very much greater is the surprise when the rest of the album turns out to be a menacing yet heartwarming Flaming Lips-gone-rogue-after-too-much-pink-robot-love trip. Mind you, it’s still not what your Regular John calls electronica (but he has never spoken to the Regular John, has he?) and it still manages to capture the very essence of Sufjan’s musical persona (the ‘a string here, a lingering vocal there’ mentioned before). While on the surface it feels like an entire army of robots is marching to war, there’s an underlying layer made out of the same material the like of Chicago was.

Sufjan also does a wonderful thing. He creates a schizoid world inside each track. Sure, Age of Adz starts like a batshit crazy combination of random sounds, but it morphs into a dream-like sequence, soft echo-y vocals barely touching the surface of the instrumental, trumpets, strings and a gentle crescendo guiding the listener to a whole new dimension. Yes, the bleeps and scratches that open up I Walked are the ones that stick in your mind but this is merely the packaging: the gentle orchestral arrangements and the choir turn the song into a doe-eyed experience.

It is true that there are moments when bringing together the piano and church-like feel of Now That I’m Older and the 80s game-boy synth of Get Real Get Right, the slow-motion water-y loops of Bad Communication and the grand choir of All For Myself seems like patchwork. But on a closer look, it is clear that they send over the same message: that dream world is ever present, those chills never cease to go down and up your spine and Sufjan hits the spot just right. He doesn’t make just music, he create a fantasy world that, as strange as it might seem, turns quickly into familiar land.

What’s even more endearing is that he doesn’t want to play with you or mislead you. For with each step one tales closer to the last track, an emotional 25 minutes blend of bluesy wailing guitars, echoes, marching drums, loops, bubbly twee-pop and lines like “But all I want is the perfect love”, it is clear that Sufjan’s sheer purpose when adding abrasive electronica sounds to his music was to enhance every emotion and add a peculiar depth to the lyrics. We are not here to offer predictions as to what The Age of Adz will be for US indie in 5 years time. But we are here to enjoy one of the strangest and warmest releases this year.

Royal Failure

2010-10-06T14:13:00.002+03:00

Somewhere, inside me (well, more like close to the surface), there’s an indie snob who puffs and moans at the thought of a new Kings Of Leon album. An indie snob who thinks Caleb should grow that beard back and start mumbling his lyrics again. An indie snob who finds it unacceptable that so many are listening to Kings Of Leon now, when back in the day they wouldn’t’ve touched them not even with a ten-foot pole. And, yes, one who wants to congratulate that pigeon. But there’s also a part of me that is happy the guys are enjoying some success. A part who thinks that Only By The Night is a good album. Sure, not as amazingly fingerlicking as the band’s previous records, but a good album nonetheless.

And even so, the indie snob wins if we are talking about Come Around Sundown. Which is a whole new level of low by anyone’s standards, let alone the ones who penned Youth and Young Manhood. Yes, I will bemoan the loss of the beards and hair locks and pissed off guitar riffs and their embracing of the phrase “We want to be U2 and want to fill that stadium faster again and again”.

Sure, Followills, you can rip The Breeders’ Cannonball bass as long as you’d like and Caleb can try wailing his way through the song. But Radioactive is still a poor joke of a lead single. And it pains me to say, but Radioactive turns out to be one of the best outfits on Come Around Sundown as it is capable of lingering around. Something one can’t really say about the rest of the songs. With all the downplayed reverbs, all the cheesed out guitar solos, all the annoying aching vocals, the band’s fifth album proves to be a hit-and-miss.

The list of faults seems endless. It does require a few more plays to actually see that, well, the talent is still there but, after those plays, you also see that there is no driving force or any reason to be enthused about the album. It tries to recreate a 50s vibe, but it isn’t daring enough and gets boring and repetitive way too fast. The lyrics are not even worth quoting. Caleb said he freestyled the lines and it shows as the words are more than cringe-worthy and add up to the impression that this album is put together in a rush and not actually something they put a lot of thought into. And as if this wasn’t enough, the far-too-polished production makes Come Around Sundown a bloated album that knows nothing about the joys of sharp corners. Coming from the band who did Four Kicks, yes, it’s a very depressing thing.

And no, I will not accept the whole “new direction, band is evolving” crap. No one in their right minds should accept it. Because there are far too many times when it feels like this album is in fact a step back (hell, many steps back). It’s a lazy record, heartless most of the times and deeply unengaging. It lacks the passion of their previous work and, without that passion, it seems blatant Come Around Sundown wouldn’t stand the trial of time. And by time, I am thinking of something like “two months”.

Songs Of Love And Hate

2010-10-06T12:54:00.001+03:00

I like to believe that if you don’t like Belle & Sebastian, you have no soul. Your heart is beating for the wrong reasons and you should put yourself and the rest of the world out of the misery fast and make it stop. Then again, I believe in redemption and second chances so I will take their latest album, Belle & Sebastian Write About Love, as something that might save you from perdition.

Sure, some might argue that non-believers will not be convinced by the eleven new tracks. The record is, after all, nothing new for the Scottish group and is not what one would call their best. Or a musical triumph. It’s actually average and feels to sugar-coated for many. It lacks the force of the Stuart Murdoch’s social comments. It is not even adventurous sound-wise and stays on territories the Glasgow-based band knows all too well: fizzy indie pop.

But what Write About Love lacks in development, it makes up for in artistry. And, while taken as a whole, it has its moments when you can’t help but call it ‘dull’, there are pieces that sparkle. Like the bittersweet disco-scented I Want The World To Stop with its shimmering drums, full-blasted chorus and backing vocals. There’s undeniable sweetness in the drums and pianos that create the main layer for the ode-to-simpler-things I Didn’t See It Coming. And while Little Lou, Ugly Jack, Prophet John, the Norah Jones featuring, is far too easy listening and quickly becomes one of those boring moments, the Carey Mulligan duet, Write About Love, feels like a little gem. Indeed, its 60s aesthetics make it a wonderful first single and, even if the lyrics are a bit gauche, it’s still hard not to see it as a perfect singalong.

What might upset some as well is the happy-go-lucky feel of the whole album. Yes, Belle & Sebastian are no longer writing sad songs and, as I’ve said before, there is a certain gaucheness in penning socially aware lines. But Write About Love is hardly an album the band should be ashamed of. Or the fans, for that matter of fact. Because if it’s one thing this record deserves applause for, besides some exquisite musical pieces, is the fact that is marks the return of one of Scotland’s best bands.

99 Red Balloons

2010-09-21T11:40:00.001+03:00

There are some people that never seem to sleep. Like David Andrew Sitek of TV On The Radio. He is a member of one of the craziest and most original bands around. He is what one would call a sought-after producer with Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Liars, Scarlett Johansson and others in his portfolio. I seriously doubt the man lays his head on the pillow. Still, he pulls another string of sleepless nights and adds one more thing on the ‘what I’ve done so far’ list: Maximum Balloon.

He does them both here, songwriting and producing. It’s the singing bit that he leaves to a number of guest vocalists and “star-studded” doesn’t even begin to describe the album. David Byrne, Karen O, bandmates Tunde Adebimpe and Kyp Malone, the Swedes from Little Dragon to name some.

Hipster wonderland this is but the rules Sitek lays down are more pop than anything. He cites Prince, Madonna and Cyndi Lauper as influences for this project and drops the intricacy of TVOTR for a neon-lighted fun-fair. It still is wonderfully layered and thick, noisy even, but its funk and glamour are more important than anything.

There is also a lot of the singers’ persona here. Communication feels like something that would follow Yeah Yeah Yeahs It’s Blitz, with Karen O seductively taking hold of the spotlight. Apartment Wrestling is the perfect embodiment of just every reason why David Byrne is so great. Tunde Adebimpe makes Absence of Light a remarkably dark beast, the bleeps and howls adding a sense of urgency.

Sitek knows there is no need to be coy and goes full throttle on the listener, leaving no real moment for us to take our breaths. From the highly infectious 80s synth and luscious vocals provided by Celebration’s Katrina Ford on Young Love and the gameboy-scented outfit If You Return, its masterfulness enhanced by Little Dragon’s Yukimi Nagano vocals, to the almost surrealist background of The Lesson, it all feels like a whirlwind of great pop tunes.

It’s hard not to feel terribly excited about this album. Sitek’s talent seems to have no boundaries and neither does his boldness. And, amongst all the fun and incredible song crafting, what makes Maximum Balloon so great is the terrible sense of unity, not once leaving you that stale taste that this is sheer patchwork, not a solid record, like most featuring albums do.

Hymn To Modernism

2010-09-20T22:08:00.000+03:00

John Hughes did many great movies and with those movies can the soundtrack of a generation. Right up there, next to Psychedelic Furs’ Pretty in Pink, are Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark with their If You Leave. Having long ago secured their place in pop history, OMD have nothing to fear now, in 2010. Besides the fact that this, History of Modern, is the first album the classic line-up has recorded since their break-up in 1990. There must have been at least a hint of emotion and some butterflies in their stomachs when thinking what the fans will make of their studio return.

And truth is they should be a little worried. History of Modern sounds sickening and frustrating because there are far too many moments when it sounds like New Order would after having too many fizzy drinks and after Peter Hook took one too many happy pills. There’s a certain clumsiness here and it’s frustrating hearing it manifest itself so freely. Sometimes is particularly annoying with its loops and scratches and female vocals. Just the synths and Andy McCluskey’s voice and it would’ve been a perfect song.

There are, what you’d come to believe after one hour, happy moments. Fortunate accidents. New Babies: New Toys could be this decade’s If You Leave and The Right Side? is a masterful tribute to Kraftwerk and their Trans-Europe Express. The first and the last track. What comes in between is so pastiche it’s painful. It sounds too cheesy and too forced. In the 80s? Sure, anytime. Well, not really But today? Down right unaccaptable. The Future, The Past, And Forever After makes your ears bleed with its high notes and cars through the Autobahn noises in the back. Lyrics and unnecessary oxford comma ignored for our own sake.

Hymn to modernism? Yeah, right. History of Modern, sadly, fails to impress. Wrong direction, wrong time for such an album, wrong ideas all crammed on one record. We could give them credit and hope that the greatness it still there, somewhere. But we’ll also need it to resurface and we need OMD to make a decent album if they want to go down gracefully.

Postcards From South Wales

2010-09-20T14:33:00.001+03:00

There is no proper way to start a Manic Street Preachers review. Sure, we could talk about Nicky Wire and his latest over-quoted rant. We could wonder where is No Manifesto and why do they delay its release. We could reveal our unhealthy obsession with everything about the guys and make a joke about Sean Moore’s gun collection or James Dean Bradfield’s love for pies that only hardcore fans will understand. No, there will not be any lamenting over the disappearance of Richey Edwards, deal with it. But what bothers me the most is that I don’t know what to make of the band’s tenth studio album, Postcards From A Young Man.

It is a strange release. Not that it is something (completely) new to the Manics: it is somewhere in the vein of the grand orchestrations of Everything Must Go and the over-the-top choruses of Send Away The Tigers. Sure, it’s nowhere near their previous work, Journal For Plague Lovers, but it shouldn’t amaze anyone as it comes from a different place. We were even prepared for this at times overblown sound by statements like “last shot at mass communication” and “Van Halen meets The Supremes”. (While others might be appalled, we Manics fans giggle with joy when hearing such things.) It is pretentious and tongue in cheek, just what we’d want from it.

And there is no denying it has moments when it outshines all the glitter in the world. The first single, (It’s Not War) Just The End Of Love, is annoyingly catchy and creeps under your skin only like a proper Manics anthem should. Some Kind Of Nothingness features the delightfully silky voice of Ian McCulloch and lovely choirs. A Billion Balconies Facing The Sun builds up tension wonderfully, Duff McKagan’s bass gracing the airwaves. I will even ignore how tone-death Wire is and say that The Future Will Be Here Forever (yes, I am also ignoring the stupid song titles) is endearing.

Truth is, it is a very good album, bar the occasional cringe worthy verse that is, after all, one of the many reasons we love Manics. The trouble with Postcards seems to be how un-engaging it is. Maybe because it comes straight after Journal, a release that takes hold of you instantly and, somehow, I expected Postcard to do the same thing. Maybe some people are right and this album was recorded too soon after Journal. Maybe it just requires a few more plays before actually sinking into its world.

Back In Business

2010-09-17T12:48:00.000+03:00

There are many bands that release an album (or two), enjoy success then disband and become history. Few of those bands decide to reform after almost two decades and release a new album.The Vaselines are one of those few bands. They were born back in the '80s and disbanded shortly after the release of their first full length album, Dum Dum. In 2008, they got back together, initially only for a charity event, but things became more serious. In fact, things became so serious, that now you have the occasion to enjoy their second album, Sex With An X.

The band picks up from where they let us more than twenty years ago. However, the sound is far from being obsolete. The album is a story about broken relationships, which is no surprise if we think about the relationship between Eugene Kelly and Frances McKee. But it’s not a sad album. On the contrary, Sex With An X is sarcastic and, in its own twisted way, full of energy. This is obvious even from the first track, Ruined, which starts in a very passionless way, giving you the impression that you listen to your great-great-grandmother's gramophone. After less than 30 seconds, you are completely turned upside down by the craziest guitar you can imagine. And just like that, the journey starts.

It seems that these twenty years have passed only in our minds, because The Vaselines sound as fresh as they did back in the '80s. The guitar riffs are annoyingly catchy, the only real exception being the last track, Exit the Vaselines, a really nostalgic piece, lyrically as well as instrumentally, on which the band slows the train, proving you they also know the meaning of the word "ballad".

But the best part is the lyrics. "You feel so good, it must be bad for me / Let's do it, let's do it again / You look so right, it must be wrong for me / Let's do it, let's do it again", Kelly sings on the title track, Sex With An X. Free translation: do not go there! But Kelly and McKee believe the both partners are guilty if a relationship goes wrong. Lyrics like "I've got the devil, the devil's inside me, I've got the devil in me / And it won't let go / He made me fight, he made you fall / He made me push you against the wall" make it pretty obvious. It's the story of two people who know their qualities and especially their defects, a dialogue full of irony and at the same time, full of strange tenderness. The climax is reached in It Wasn't All Duran Duran, which brings auto irony to the highest level you could ever imagine. "What do you know? You weren't there / It wasn't all Duran Duran Duran Duran / You want the truth? Well this is it / I hate the '80s 'cause the '80s were shit".

If it's true that few are the bands that decide to come back after a very long period of time and release a new album, then it's also true that even fewer manage to come up with a decent release. This is one more reason for you to appreciate Sex With An X and give The Vaselinesa warm round of applause.

*photo courtesy of The Vaselines' MySpace

Gin In Teacups

2010-09-16T12:26:00.002+03:00

There’s this series of burning question I ask myself each time of Montreal take out a new album. Are they taking the piss? They must be, right? Art Snob Solutions, anyone? Suffer For Fashion or… or whatever? It is just their irony-free love for Eno, Bowie and all glam rock the source of all the flamboyance? And why is Kevin Barnes prancing naked on stage? Elephant 6 and all Prince references aside, of Montreal are here with their I-lost-count-and-hell-if-I-care album, False Priest. Who, you know, could be the indie star they were talking about on Gronlandic Edit.

We could, of course, beat around the bush, write a two-page review about how it sounds and how Barnes is one crazy cupcake. About how False Priest really manages to be sexy and funny, put a smile on your face each time that cupcake pens another lyric about love-making, lyric that will be sang in a blasé or high-pitched voice and that will charm us even when the reverbs are off the hook. How the piano is bubblier than Robby Bubble. How the little pink cupcake is still, inevitable, a depressed and miserable one because glitter is not the answer to everything. And how, just as inevitably, the cupcake drowns in melancholia and sadness disguised as overly-dramatic pianos, movie references and whispered lyrics.

Or we could just draw the line and say that Barnes doesn’t really want to change his persona. That tongue-in-cheekiness, funk, groove and strange arrangements are all here, present for the party. Well, I think the first one is here, maybe Barnes disapproves. That, no matter how rough the guitars get the disco ball still lights the room in which Barnes dances to 70s-pastiche tunes. That even if they go and have a duet with Solange Knowles, of Montreal still love ungodly mood shifts, schizoid instrumentals and too-intense-for-you quirkiness. With an extra touch of strobe lighting.

Yes, of Montreal are still divine and worth taking in heavy doses each day. False Priest feels like one would be when they’re high on marzipan. It swiftly grabs the limelight and asks you to take a ride with it in the fun fair teacups. And while it might not be particularly better than Hissing Fauna or a step forward, it still provides many moments that will reassure us that loving of Montreal is the right thing to do.

All Today's Parties

2010-09-10T14:49:00.006+03:00

Brian Eno said once about The Velvet Underground that their debut album wasn't much of a commercial success, but anyone who bought one of the first 30.000 copies started a band. And if we wouldn't know better, we would certainly assume that The Black Angels bought five out of 30.000. Hell, they named their band after The Black Angel's Death Song and they have Nico's photo as their logo.

Now, as we all know, being highly influenced by a band is dangerous, as it might result in your musical project just being a very good tribute band. However, this never seemed to be a problem for The Black Angels. While being strongly influenced, not only by VU, but by the Whole Psychedelic Era (with accents on 13^th Floor Elevators), they somehow managed to build their own identity without being necessarily original. And they're willing to prove it again on their third studio album, Phosphene Dream.

The obsessive and twisted guitar riff and Alex Maas' almost unreal vocals blend perfectly on Bad Vibrations, making it one of the finest moments on the whole record. It’s also the opening track, so it’s safe to say the five Texans have no mercy. From front to back, they dazzle you to the point of obsession with hallucinating bass and guitar lines like those on the title track, Mass’s echoing voice refusing to leave your side for many days to come. They make you wonder whether you’ve been doing to many drugs, even if you have never touch such things, with every Spacemen 3 drone and Nuggets infused wall of sound.

They drive you insane with every hit of the drums. Drums that seem to surreal to be real, drums too perfect to come from this world, drums that add to the overall vibe of the space-y Yellow Elevator #2. They even provide the perfect soundtrack for a night out at your local psych club with Telephone and its heavy Doors-scented keyboard. Yes, we know The Doors actually used an organ, but the feeling is the same.

To say that after you push the play button, you'll be sucked into the '60s atmosphere before having time to say "Andy Warhol" is probably stating the obvious, but it's the best way to describe the feeling you get from the first to the last track. There's so much more to say about this release, but every word is pale in comparison with the album. It's true, some would argue there is nothing innovative about Phosphene Dream. But we would argue back that, for a mere journey to the past, it is a fabulous one.

*photo courtesy of The Black Angels' official site

Hellbound Hearts

2010-09-10T14:05:00.004+03:00

You’ve probably heard Heathen Child. Whether you have a habit of listening to such music of your own free will or not (Jonathan Pierce, I am looking at you), you kinda feel obliged to admit that it is pretty much awesome. And kinda really cool. And when I say “kinda cool”, I am thinking of “mind-blowing, you’ll never be this cool so you’d better just stop trying now” kinda cool.

Now, most of the times, people have this thing where upon hearing the first single off an album, they will expect the album to be in a certain way. In our case, you’d probably expect Grinderman 2 to be dirty and free of structural inhibitions, Nick Cave howling over Warren Ellis’s crazy guitar. And, yes, you are mostly right. The four Grinderman shed all decency in the process of writing their second studio material. They are as shameless as they were on the first album when they made you forget all their musical baggage and beat all sense of wisdom out of their sound.

As always, Cave’s lyrics are a delicious mix between horrors imageries and black humour, tales of murder and rape, a stream of consciousness tour-de-force, mad one liners thrown at the listener and charming him like the words of a manic prophet. And be damn sure that you will smirk like Cave probably did when he dryly mused “My baby calls me the Loch Ness monster. Two great big humps and I'm gone.”

Forget about midlife crisis. The only crisis here is how much louder can the guitars be, how much can they swirl and create abrasive walls of psychedelia, how much could the organ be abused on the apocalyptic Bellringer Blues and how will ever anyone make a creepier song than the minimalist When My Baby Comes. There is no need to be shy about it: Grinderman 2 is the older and by no means wiser version of The Birthday Party, it is feral and untamed, proudly taking off from where the first offering left us.

It really is a far too visceral album for the faint of heart. The non believers will easily dismiss the album as another record about naughtiness and disobedience. Or, you know, the two things nasty blues is made of after all. But Grinderman 2 is not talking to them. It is talking to us out there who enjoy the marriage of noise and rhythm, scum rock and art that the wayward Grinderman preach about.

So Much Grace

2010-09-07T14:40:00.003+03:00

I never bought much into the whole “they sound so much like Joy Division” thing. I am sick and tires of people mentioning in or talking about how one most go through certain steps in understanding Interpol’s music and one of them being sniffing the “oh-so-obvious” JD influences. The only place where the two bands meet is the pit of emotional torment where Ian Curtis and Paul Banks seem to love to play together. Other than that, those people can shut up and (re)listen (carefully) to the three previous albums. Or just to the (now) trio’s most recent work of genius, Interpol.

Your forth album being self titled might seem like a lack of inspiration, but with Interpol, as with other bands in their position, it’s seems to be more of a strong statement of being themselves and removing any clutter around their music. Not once, from intro Success to outro The Undoing, does it feel like these guys take a chord from here or there other than themselves. It’s truly a reminder of who Interpol are and why we loved them to begin with.

This means that this record is not easy to crack: the marriage of austere fuzzy guitars and the flood of anguish and despair wraps it in a shell. And not only this, but also of the drums, Sam Fogarino hitting them hard like it is the only way to make the demons that gravitated around the lyrics go away. However there is something alluring that makes the shell break quickly, overtaking you, maybe the brief moments of joyfulness and energetic outburst. The energetic bass off Success and the uplifting guitar riff of Lights or the art disco scent of Barricade form little crack which help us enter Interpol’s otherwise hermetic world.

What is great about Interpol is that it forms an actual story. There is unity in the album, especially musically as each song flows into the other or and feels like a natural step further to the album’s closing song. Each song introduces new elements and each new element helps paint a better picture of this sonic landscape. Sure, these elements can be as varied as the bareness of Always Malaise (The Man I Am) with its haunting vocals compared to the explosions on Barricade or how All Of The Ways haunting piano and build-up echoing guitars precede the luminous guitars on The Undoing.

Interpol is quite a grand record that likes to stand tall and show off . And given its undeniably merits and grace, it has all the rights to. Interpol have successfully managed, once more, to remove any doubt and show themselves as the truly majestic band that they are. Now we can focus on another issue: will Dave Pajo (formerly of Slint) become the forth official Interpol and how will this affect their sound?

Can't Get Enough.

2010-09-06T14:39:00.002+03:00

Of course, what you are to read is a case of taking sides. With Hurts it’s impossible not to take one side (love them) or the other (hate them). Their wet hair, their ‘Tears For Fears shot by Anton Corbijn’ photographs, their sax solos, their lingering 80s synths, their early 90s (electro) pop sensibilities. The Mancunian duo seems to love making it hard for some to accept their sheer existence, not to speak of their work. With the others, the ones who love them, and here personal experience is of high value, Theo Hutchcraft and Adam Anderson’s debut, Happiness, can only bring joy and make volumes go all the way to the max. Singing along included.

The record hits you full speed, merciless, with Silver Lighting, grand gothic cathedral choirs, the sorts that would make Depeche Mode blush, echoing vocals and expansive synths. It seems to be written with the sole purpose of making you fall in love with it. The slow-disco and urgency of Wonderful Life and the atmospheric Blood, Tears & Gold are naturally present on the LP, here to hunt your days furthermore.

While Sunday’s synths that echo DM’s Can’t Get Enough prove to be an explosion of glee, Stay with its backing vocals, lush vocals and Take That scented chorus turns to be one of the records most emotional down moments. “Say goodbye in the pouring rain and I break down as you walk away” lingers on, making it impossible for this track not to become your new favourite power ballad, the one you shouldn’t call a guilty pleasure as theatrical as it might be.

Illuminated opens the second half of Happiness, a half as theatrical and shameless in search of grandeur as Stay. Both this song and Evelyn reveal a certain sexuality and sensuality with every guitar, every pounding drum, every racing harmony, that make them wonderful examples of perfect pop tunes craftsmanship.

The bombastic Better That Love could be the album’s most fast-paced moment, a delightful DM tribute, the high-pitched vocals and swirling synths, the exact drums and crescendo guitars making it hard to believe that anyone could deny the sheer genius of this piece. Which is true about Devotion as well, a magnificent and extremely sexy pop gem featuring Kylie Minogue (her best work this year, hands down). Crystal clear, her voice and Theo’s sweep everything in their way, the cinematic melody leaving little doubt to how talented Hurts are.

Unspoken is, to put it simply, one of the best break up songs, a majestic track that’s beauty is only enhanced by the chord arrangement and steady rise of the melody. Water feels like Stay’s twin, just as unashamed to embrace boy band aesthetics and pop grandeur. It’s also makes for a wonderful album exit as it wraps up pretty much everything Hurts are about: lack of irony, a love for pop with all that is means, impeccable song writing, expansive melodies.

And sure there are quite a few pop clichés here and many too much unaltered love of pop (hidden track Verona is something you’d want to skip), but Happiness provides many of this year’s finest irony-free pop moments and it genuinely feels like a time machine back to the golden 80s, no apologies. It could fit in with any of that decade’s classics, but it works just as wonderfully as a reason to make us, 20-something year olds, feel proud of this decade.

All These Things That He's Done

2010-09-05T22:58:00.024+03:00

It happens often. It's the well known "I-can-do-it-myself" syndrome, which appears when a band is very successful and a member (usually the lead singer) suddenly discovers they has so much more to say and show. So they have to pursue a solo career. Then everything turns crazy because media starts to speculate that soon the band will break up, so the said member has to give tons of interviews to reassure fans that this will never ever happen. Most of the time it does happen, especially if the solo album is successful, but that's another discussion.

Last year it was announced that The Killers will take a break, exhaustion being cited as one of the main reasons. Very quickly, rumours began to circulate about a Brandon Flowers album. Initially denied by the band, they were confirmed at the end of April by Flowers himself, who stated that the album was to be called Flamingo. The first single, Crossfire, was very nice and catchy, but it had a strong Killers fragrance, making you wonder if Flowers will be able to do-it-himself.

The first (rhetorical) question that will cross your mind right before pushing the PLAY button will probably be "boy, this guy is really obsessed with Las Vegas, isn't he?". Not only has he called his album Flamingo after Flamingo Casino & Flamingo Road from the above mentioned city. No, he also called the first track Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas. Okay, Brandon, we know already that Las Vegas is your hometown. It was not absolutely necessarily to write another song to glorify it, thank you very much.

But the feeling of annoyance disappears completely once you hear Only the Young. It's a damn catchy song, the kind of track that is especially written to become a single and be sung by thousands of people at live festivals, a song with an obsessive chorus you won't forget too soon. The Killers... uhm, I mean... Brandon Flowers should be proud of this one. Hard Enough manages to keep things at a high level by throwing in Jenny Lewis' wonderful vocals. And here's the point when you can already imagine millions of lovers in the world dedicating this song to each other. How sweet...

Jilted Lovers & Broken Hearts is somehow reminiscent to Mr. Brightside, as it's being built on the same I-love-you-you-love-him idea. It's a very tonic song, and actually on most tracks Flowers keeps a bright tone, using and abusing synth and guitar, as he does in Was It Something I Said?. The tunes are not danceable in the true sense of word, not that The Killers made out a habit on composing really danceable tunes. Oh, I'm sorry, this wasn't a Killers album, you're right.

An exception to the joyfulness is On the Floor or “the really slow and profound and introspective and let's pray together” type of track. It even has something that resembles a church choir on it. Very well, if that's the case, then someone assured himself a place in Heaven.

As we get to the album’s closing track and everything seems to be so nice and beautiful, we should ask the big question. If you read this carefully, you already know what it is. Yes, why did Brandon Flowers chose to go solo anyway? Each and every song on Flamingo fits so well in The Killers' shoes that at times you'll completely forget that you are actually listening to Flowers' solo work. The whole sound moves on the same path The Killers have followed post-Sam's Town. This is not necessarily a bad thing (you Hot Fuss fans over there will disagree, I know), but if Flowers wanted a new The Killers material, why didn't he called in his band mates? There are three possible explanations: a) the others were more exhausted than we initially thought or b) the others do not exist, they are just projections of Flowers' mind and the whole The Killers thing was just an illusion or c) this was actually meant to be a The Killers album, but Flowers' ego grew up so much that he decided to be the only one credited for the release. You choose.

Getting Intimate

2010-09-04T19:46:00.001+03:00

When Hutch Harris sings “I wanna know your feelings, I wanna know your shame”, you get the strangest feeling of security. And as the little coy distorts creep into your bones, an instant need to “wonder into the dark” like he asks you to takes over. Arguably, The Thermals couldn’t have chosen a better intro than I’m Gonna Change Your Life for their fifth studio material, Personal Life. As homey and comfortable as the rest of the record, it somehow prepares you for the angst and insecurity that seems to take over as it becomes obvious this album is a story about failed human relationships.

As it evolves, the three Americans never give up on that feeling, even if it’s just the reassuring way in which Harris lets his voice follow every drum beat and brief moment of sweeping guitars then gently whispers “my love” on Only For You. It gently tickles your ears as the Portland trio makes Robert Pollard proud with the short and endearing Guided By Voice scented Alone, A Fool. There is, as a matter of fact, a great deal The Thermals owe to the jingly pop of the Ohio band for the making of this Personal Life.

It’s also a strangely punk album, admittedly in spirit more than sound or songs length. It feels like a blow in your face, but not thanks to the overall sounds. It’s the little things that make and break relationships and so it is the details that make The Thermals très punk this time round. It’s the nervous riffs and almost mechanically delivered lines off Personal Life’s longest track, Never Listen To Me, even though the disco cymbals make the song take the dancefloor direction. The way Harris burns with anxiety and spits his deepest worries over the battle of the instruments on Power Lies. The instant concert anthem Your Love Is So Strong, those distorted vocals, the pounding drums, ascending guitars, the lines “Your love is so strong/ It cracks at the slightest touch/ Your love is so strong/ It crumbles to dust”.

What makes Personal Life even better is its ending: the oddly OMD-ish You Changed My Life, the cycle complete, heavy dose of bitterness infused in your stereos. “You made me see how everything I ever knew was gone”. Sure, this release may be a bit more toned down than the previous ones. Sure there might be less shouting and not so many outbursts of insane energy. But Personal Life is beautiful enough in its search to replace the political with the intimate and it still has plenty of heart.

Put Your Hands In the Air...?

2010-09-03T16:27:00.005+03:00

Well, well, well. It seems like Placebo strike again with another wonderful release from their highly praised album Battle for the Sun (I hope you can feel the irony). This time it's Trigger Happy Hands, one of the new songs from Battle for the Sun Redux Edition (really now, how many editions of this album are they willing to release? Read my lips: this ain't no good!) The song is supposed to be a picture (and a very dark one) of the modern society. You know the story: wars, politicians and the rest of the plagues. As expected (we're talking about a song that appears on Battle, remember), the lyrics are shit if you compare them with Placebo's previous releases. Scratch that, if you compare them to anything. And it really hurts to say it, considering the fact that for over a decade, Placebo amazed us with sexual, straight-into-your-face, but also romantic and full of poetry lyrics. Even worse than that, they also seem to lack musical inspiration (at least the other songs from Battle have good instrumentals).

However, let's forget about the song and concentrate on the video. It does lack the awfulness of The Never-Ending Why (it takes a lot of effort to sink that low) but that does not mean it's the most wonderful thing you had the chance of seeing in your life. On the contrary. Trigger Happy Hands is the kind of video that anyone can make without any problems. Just film your little nephews in the garden playing with some water guns, throw in some violent images (the news are full of such things, that should not be a problem) and add a few images with Placebo in a live concert. And there you have it! It's a shame when you think what videos and songs these guys used to release. Nowadays we can give them credit only for their live concerts, which continue to be awesome. But they should know this won't last forever.

A Labyrinth of Emotions

2010-09-02T17:53:00.006+03:00

Minotaur. The title itself is enough to send you a shiver down your spine. For those of you who aren't familiar with Greek mythology, the Minotaur was a monster with the head of a bull and the body of a man, who was kept prisoner in a labyrinth and fed with human beings. He was born from a cursed love his mother had for a bull. And suddenly you feel the urge to look at The Clientele and ask them "Guys, is everything alright with you?"

Now, some would say The Clientele are famous for their awesome guitar sounds and Alasdair MacLean's vocals, but it seems too much of a cliché and does not expresses properly the feeling you get when you listen to their finest releases. And this EP seems to be one of them. Is a story about human emotions, a story about fear, and the fact that they called one of their songs Paul Verlaine gives you a very good idea about the main theme.

The hidden tragedy of the ancient Greek myth reveals itself right from the first track with lyrics about the usefulness of hope. MacLean's words "It's not happening, oh no... I am the Minotaur" make so much more than one thousand metaphors. The instrumentals are calm, pop-friendly, with deep guitar sounds, gentle violins and dreamy piano sounds. It will make you think of at least one of the songs as the-pop-anthem-of-the-week (my sincere bet is on As the World Rises and Falls).

However, the calmness is only apparent – it is like a sea that hides a storm deep inside it and does not show any sign on the surface, just as the labyrinth didn’t show any sign of the beast hidden inside. There are two tracks that appear as completely different from the rest of the album. The first one is No. 33, on which Mel Draisey gives a really high measure of her musical talent on piano. After that comes the strangest moment of the album, The Green Man. It can't be actually called a song. It's just five minutes of MacLean speaking, with a sound in background that reminds you about the strong blow of the wind in the winter. The story might not be properly understood from the first listening, but the feelings of angst and fear cannot be denied. It's freaky. The last track, suggestively called Nothing Here Is What It Seems, restores the calmness and does nothing but prove you that if there is a band born to specialize in the conflict between human emotions, then that band has to be called The Clientele.

Minotaur is one of those albums that make you deeply fall in love with them and seem to be especially created to make you search for all the superlatives you know and maybe even invent some new ones. If the word “gem” just crossed your mind, don’t worry. You are not the only one.

*photo courtesy of The Clientele's official site

Dancing On Our Tongues

2010-09-02T12:49:00.002+03:00

It would not be far-fetched to say the ones who say that there are no good (new) bands around nowadays, or too few, know nothing about music. They are but oblivious fools who don’t really ‘get out of the house’. Sure, there is no denying big words are thrown easily these days. “Epic”, “immense”, “best new band”, etc. But there is something about Everything Everything that makes it clear hyperboles should be used without fear of exaggeration.

Now, the four Mancunians have been kind to us and prepared the ground with exquisite songs like Suffragette Suffragette, its tingly bass lines following you around all day, stuck in your head, and My Kz Yr Bf, every high-pitched vocal making you jealous you couldn’t sing like Jonathan Higgs or, as a matter of fact, spit out the words with the same velocity.

The debut finally here, more words of praise are to roll off your tongue each time you’ll be playing it. It’s the clear accent that makes it feel all too snobbish and art-school-like. It’s the smile on your face when you hear the white-assed almost perfect R&B grooves, the way Higgs tries to be both a fifth Destiny’s Child and Hayden Thorpe's irreverent brother. It’s all the misheard lines that you can’t get right even after reading the liner notes. It’s the way they build around them, making each song a mystery.

Man Alive is the solid proof this band knows how to combine the influenced they cite in a way it is actually sounds exiting in practise and not only on paper. It turns each syncopate beat, each odd guitar, each exact drum into something that rightfully should top any chart and that belongs next to mainstream acts. It’s clear, after a little more than 50 minutes that Everything Everything know how to turn pop into something fresh and fun not because they don’t top the said charts, but because of all the ideas they throw in one song and wrapping them up in a dense atmosphere.

This record should be called epic and immense, fantastic and a stroke of genius. But Man Alive is, after all, just another reason to believe there must be something in the water in Manchester.

Siberian Breaks

2010-08-25T11:06:00.006+03:00

Rarely has something so disturbing been so endearing.

EDIT This video has been removed due to copyright, so you can watch it here.

Surfin' In Memphis

2010-08-23T14:50:00.002+03:00

Sure, it is stupid to say a thing like “If it makes you sad, it’s bad music”. But it would be really sad for people to judge Magic Kids solely on the basis of that line. For while we might disagree with their way of thinking, we can hardly disagree that the Beach Boys-scented Memphis band’sHey Boy is so adorable it should replace the world ‘adorable’ in the dictionary.

Their debut album, Memphis, on the other hand, tries to become the official synonym for ‘sugar-coated’. It’s all harmonies and choirs, chimes and oooh-ooohs, guitars and vocals that should be tagged as ‘not suitable for diabetics’. It calls for breezy sunny days, soft rain drops falling on your head, blissfully cool summer nights. Hey Boy is a pop gem like few: the boys’ choir, backing vocals, the crescendos, that very moment when they slow the pace and all you can hear are wooo-hooos and chimes, the explosion of the chorus. Good To Be is insanely catchy, every second making it impossible for you not to sing along. Sailin, Candy and Phone sparkle with pop perfection and heavy 60s goodness as if recorded to fit the Boat That Rocked soundtrack.

But no matter how much you love the bubbles that surround Magic Kids, it is all too tiresome. Interest fades, the lack of sound evolution or significant variations makes for a desire to press next. Too much of the sweetness almost makes you sick and you do end up wishing Magic Kidswould forget, at least for a second, that sad music is bad. A little angst hidden amongst the mountains of sugar canes and darkness in the layers of cotton candy would’ve made Memphis a lovely debut. In its true shape, it is a debut that makes you wish these kids would grow up a bit and discover new playgrounds.

E's Trilogy Came To An End

2010-08-22T15:00:00.004+03:00

They say it's something magical about number three. Now, I can't tell if Eels (or Mark Everett, if you prefer it that way) had that in mind when he decided to release Hombre Lobo back in 2009, but this is rather irrelevant. Thing is the trilogy, started with that album and continued in January with End Times, has finally come to an end with Tomorrow Morning.

Now, one could expect a new collection of stories about sadness, depression and stuff like that, but even the cover (which represents a blossomed tree) proves it wrong. Hombre Lobo was about desire and unrequited love, End Times was about separation and aging. Tomorrow Morning is about love and its beauty. Of course, at first sight this might be unbelievable (in spite of the cover, or maybe just because of it) and listening to the first song, In Gratitude for This actually makes you believe it. However, Everett corrects the first impression in I'm a Hummingbird, by pening the lines "All the seconds and minutes and the hours and the days and the weeks and the months and the years of my life, it was all worth it to be here now". Happiness, you say? It might be called so. And E seems as puzzled by that as the listener when he sings "But baby loves me and she's smarter than you".

Lyrically, the album is a true celebration of love. Of course, that implies a glorification of the person who stands beside you (Spectacular Girl), a somewhat raised self-confidence (I Am the Man) as well as hope for a better, brighter future (I Like the Way This Is Going). But things can't be happy until the end (or else Everett wouldn't be Everett any longer) and that's why at times you can read between the lines the fear that everything might end. Musical wise, things couldn't be any better. Put his lyrics aside, E is best known for his love for instruments. The album is a delightful melange of acoustic guitars and electronic beats, of dreamy, ethereal ballads like I'm a Hummingbird or What I Have to Offer and catchy songs like Baby Loves Me. It even makes you regret at times that the man can't play more instruments at the same time in a live concert. That good he is.

It is not wrong to say Tomorrow Morning is a must. It does not exactly goes on the path Eels got us used to, but it is nevertheless a wonderful release, of which Everett should and must be proud of.

*photo courtesy of Eels' official site

At War With The Mystics

2010-08-20T14:23:00.001+03:00

Every news about Surfing The Void must’ve had the “highly anticipated” in it, referring to the sophomore Klaxons album. And why not admit to it? We’ve all been biting our nails and praying it would leak faster. That there would be no news saying the album’s release is being delayed once more. And it’s not just the people who know Myths Of The Near Future by heart and cried along with the four Brits when the debut won the Mercury award. It’s just about anyone who knows just how talked about were Klaxons when they came along with the glowsticks and absurd William Burroughs-inspired lyrics.

Naturally, some will compare the two albums, Myths and Surfing, and maybe even throw some “just as good” or “I’m losing faith in them”. But there is no point. In recent interviews, Klaxons sound like different people. Indeed, everything post-Myths should show how it is no longer the pranksters who wrote and recorded a rave album we are talking about. They still are fucking insane, rest assured. But they are walking a different path and the music they make no longer feels immensely hedonistic like the Myths songs.

Just as naturally, there are things that stay the same. Never have Klaxons written intelligible lyrics. Never have the words to their sound been easy to understand. Just as cryptic as ever, they make Burroughs just as proud and the rest of us feel sorry these guys do not have plans for some dysptopic novel in the vein of JG Ballard’s Atrocity Exhibition. Just as easily as before, the four put the craziest of lyrics in your mouth, making them sound like the lines of your latest pop hit. The very combination that made Klaxons so popular to start with, the out-of-this-world chaotic lyrics and the incredibly catchy tunes, is ever-present and leaves little doubt to whether Surfing will be just as of an unlikely hit as Myths. It also sure feels like the new album is an extent to their song Four Horsemen of 2012 and it is clear their interest in the end of the world in no new thing.

But you know Surfing The Void is a completely different beast as soon as the heavy bass lines of Echoes hit you. Many were fearful of this release due to words that Polydor wanted something more pop. Yet, the record is hard to take in after one bite. Produced by Ross Robinson (responsible for producing albums for Korn and At The Drive-In), there seems to be so much going here and each second feels the space around you like glowsticks used to at the band’s first concerts. Guitars swirl like there is no tomorrow. Industrial sounds bounce back and forth and scratch your brains. Steffan Halperin’s blasting drums lead the way most of the times and it feels just right.

The title-track feels insanely claustrophobic, the chaos of the melody and the screams remind you of the long gone days of Atlantis To Interzone. Just that now paranoia takes hold of everything and all that lies ahead is suffocation. Extra Astronomical feels like a hit over the head with a hammer because of its dense industrial guitars, the menacing two notes riff and the rapid drums. Vortex-like Cyberspeed gives the impression Simon Taylor-Davies has been playing guitar with a drill, the menacing distorts creep out of the speakers while the vocals are buried deeper into the mechanical instrumental. Like Isle Of Her could’ve been a love song in disguise, so can Autotune-scented psychedelic love story The Same Space be the soundtrack of a Sci-fi film.

But the claustrophobia is lifted at times. Echoes with its guitar solo, focused melody, the chorus that comes in after one minute, its Muse-scent is quite obviously the album’s single and the one to feel in the shoes of Golden Skans. It’s not the only one, mind you. The prog-pop and slow pace of Twin Flames is a catchy as Klaxons can get. While most of the other tracks have joint cyborg-like vocals or mostly Jamie Reynolds’s airy voice, on this one it’s James Righton who lends his pop star coolness to the whole song. Future Memories, its space-out piano and soulful vocals, the way the bass builds tension promise to swiftly become part of the mainstream conscience.

And, with every listen, it becomes blatant Surfing The Void is a shamelessly fantastic release. There is all of the Klaxons we love here: pop sensibility, sheer madness, tale of strange worlds, impeccable song-writing. Psychedelia they promised and they do deliver: each layer of sound probably makes a whole lot more sense on ayahuasca (the hallucinogen they claim to have been ingesting – with Klaxons one can never be sure of the truth). But it is still a wonderful way to wrack your brain while trying to make sense of Surfing The Void.

Once More With A Lot Of Feeling

2010-08-19T12:06:00.004+03:00

Whoever hears the name Ra Ra Riot for the first time might think at a punk rock/fuck-the-system band. However, things aren't what they seem. Ra Ra Riot have already been around for four years and a half, and one might say they specialised until now in writing indie pop songs, that are catchy without necessarily having the happy-happy-joy-joy sound. And this is not a surprise, considering the tragedy that happened before the release of their debut album (the death of their drummer).

Their new record, The Orchard, is a celebration of love in all of its aspects. At this moment, the word "ballad" would most likely cross the mind of many of you - and you'd be right. On their new album, the sound became more gentle and less claustrophobic. Just as in real life, time seems to heal wounds.

If it's true that every band must have a certain something meant to make a difference, then in Ra Ra Riot's case that certain something is for sure represented by the immersion of orchestral sounds. This is proven especially on the band's first single, Too Dramatic, which is basically the kind of song that enters your mind right after the first listen and sticks with you - violin and cello never sounded more energetic and fresh. Same sensation is given by Boy, with its interesting bass line, which might make some of you regret you're not in a rock band.

These are the most energetic tracks on the album, but that does not make the rest of them sound like they are from a different (and boring) movie. It's true, there are a few moments when the sound becomes a bit monotone (see Massachusetts), but that does not make you change your mind about the whole record. Especially when the band makes unexpected moves - an example is You And I Know, on which cellist Alexandra Lawn replaces Wes Miles on vocals, giving the song a plus of tenderness and making it one of the best tracks on the album.

To put it simple, The Orchard might not have the sparkling of The Rhumb Line, but it is without a doubt a good release and a pleasant listening, enough to make you want to keep an eye on them in the future.

*photo courtesy of Ra Ra Riot's official site

!!! Is In The House

2010-08-17T13:36:00.001+03:00

!!! are the one supreme hipster band. And it’s not just the impossible to pronounce name. No, it’s also the detached (self) irony, the (uber) bored voice, the Studio 54 flair, the song titles like All My Heroes Are Weirdos. But with every album, !!! have proven they are also one of the best bands out there, that they are worth every ounce of love, that they are true artists making art that gets people grooving. In their all-too-loved style, the New Yorkers tell us it’s high time we filled every corner of that 70s retro bar and dance like there is no tomorrow via their newest album, Strange Weather, Isn’t It?

Which is, without doubt, a 100% !!! album. Nic Offer’s songwriting is just as irreverent as always. He still seems just as sarcastic singing about random things. He says it’s a good thing. But it’s a good thing he likes being alone and you can’t help but wonder if he isn’t throwing it in your face just like that, reminding you what an ass you are. His voice, his bored voice, might be out of tone or flat at times. It is still one of the funkiest out there. The female vocals swing and swag, making each song more soulful, adding a Groove Is In The House air to Wannagain Wannagain and turning Steady As The Sidewalk Cracks into Hearts Of Hearts little but really badass sister. And hell yeah, Anita Ward must be really jealous of these kids.

By now, it is indeed obvious !!! have their trademark sound. Strange Weather is the band we’ve all been loving for so long. But their ready-for-the-dancefloor sound is more than just some guitars and funky vocals. It’s also the saxophones that are used without a shred of irony and that are by no means a faux-pas in !!! land. The fuzzy guitars that are not afraid to bounce back and forth. The naughty bass line that feels each song with tones of sexuality. The way Even Judas Gave Jesus A Kiss and The Hammer are pieces of heavy sonic experimentation and still make you groove on your chair and pray that the DJ in your local bar will play this the next time you go there.

What’s more important about Strange Weather, Isn’t It? is that it is a solid album, not one moment that might let you down, bored you or make you want to skip the track. It’s the kind of album that you can’t help but play head to bottom and groove under imagined strobe lights. And while !!! don’t really need to prove the world anything, at least not after 2007’s Myth Takes, it sure feels great to hear them trying to convince you once more Studio 54 is not dead.

Rambling Duo

2010-08-16T12:43:00.002+03:00

Isobel Campbell must hate always hearing how weird it is for her to work with Mark Lanegan. How peculiar that her post Belle & Sebastian career is all bluesy Americana and no twee Scottish pop. How this particular Scottish blonde get to collaborate with the taciturn American. And how it works surprisingly well. How people are still amased at the fluency of their music even if the duo has worked together for three albums.

Like she said it in an interview last week, it just works. There is a certain chemistry that is hard to put into words, to describe, to deconstruct. The first two albums, while maybe not perfect, gently let you know this. The duo’s third studio recording, Hawk, is not afraid to repeat it: herein lies a bond that few people can achieve. There is no such thing as pushing it, as trying too hard to write songs for the both of them. Effortless is what defines this album and, as a matter of fact, the duo’s entire work. It’s like they were in fact different faces of the same person. Lanegan’s rough bluesy voice and Campbell’s nightingale one exist to complete each other. There is no war of egos, no schizoid songs or different artistic approaches. Just a blissful union of two songwriters, an intimacy that seems out of this world.

It is hard to argue that Campbell and Lanegan are at their best when they craft breezy, sensual musical pieces. When they write about the troubles of the heart and wayward men. The softly sang To Hell & Back Again and No Place To Fall (“I’m not much of a lover, that’s true” muses Lanegan) are instant attention grabbers in a sea of beauty. But here, on Hawk, the two show where rockabilly can take them: Get Behind Me and Hawk recall of long highway drives and smoky Southern bars.

While there is no denying Hawk is an overall beautiful album, it has its flaws: it requires a certain mood when listening to the record, it is a bit too homogenous and, at times, a bit too forgettable. But it is serves its purpose just right. It reminds everyone that Campbell and Lanegan were always meant to work together and their artistic union should be no surprise to others.

Do You Like Boris?

2010-08-15T21:26:00.004+03:00

Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin should be quite of a political band. Cause a scene, protest in front of the White House, ask for the demolition of Wall Street, things like these. But SSLYBY’s area of interest seemed to be a bit different: girls and their lips, love’s sweet torments and the pains of the heart. Five years on from their breezy self-released debut Broom and two after the exquisite Pershing, the Russian president’s fans return with an album that seems to follow the lines of the band’s previous recordings but takes it a step further.

Let It Sway is like a soft spring breeze, the sun on an April morning: handclaps gently tickle the hazy guitars and rapid drums while the seemingly dissonant voice wraps itself around your heart. There is also plenty of immersion into mid-90s American alternative: the excellent Banned (By The Man) and the semi-schizoid part mellow loveliness part blasting guitars and echo-y vocals Back In The Saddle are not just mere tracks, but a fully fledged time machines. And there are two-tone hints like the bass lines on In Pairs or jumping drums of My Terrible Personality or punk-meets-Americana outburst like the potentially concert favourite Critical Drain.

There are, as a matter of fact, many notes, chords and keys SSLYBY take from the past and glue them so closely together it’s hard to figure out where you’ve heard it before. Fortunately, songs like the bubbly Evelyn or the piano-kissed (future-Michael-Cera-movie-title) Stuart Gets Lost Dans Le Metro are moments when the glue is made of sheer and utter brilliance. Unfortunately, there are times when the four piece fails to create something remarkable. No, by no means is any of their songs sonically disturbing. Just that, on a first listen the likes of Animalkind say almost nothing to the listener and gently slip from the memory as the last notes of the songs are played.

But as proof SSLYBY are worthy of the indie front lines, the moments when the album drags seem too short and are easy to ignore. No need to fret, no need to despair. Those flaws exist to remind us SSLYBY are only human and they too can err. After all, it would be awfully depressing to listen to an album that has only airwave perfection like Cardinal Rules, wouldn’t it?

She Don't Care About Any Of That

2010-08-11T15:05:00.004+03:00

Grinderman are here competing for the most random video of 2010. Hallefuckinglujah

P.S.: The tache owns. End of.

Infinite Zest

2010-08-10T14:26:00.001+03:00

Youth is not to be easily dismissed. While some might laugh and throw an “Ah, but you are still young”, it is nothing short of obvious youth is something many chase. Indeed, Sky Larkin are young and one could think it comes naturally for these 20-plus-year-olds. But they way they craft their songs make it crystal clear few can do this. The zest of careless days is ever present in their melodies and the three Leeds natives make it seem so effortless one can but crave to be at least for a day like them.

Their latest album, Kaleide, is just another burst of energy. Irreverent and with a flair of the long lost 90s American alternative (well, maybe not that lost), Kaleide does not wish to be a wise-beyond-its-age album. It throws itself in your face and takes you back to the nights when you were still a teenager (including the heartaches, not just the fun). The rapid guitars, sneaky distorts and Casio keyboards shamelessly creep around you and remind you that sometimes even more than three chords, make for on hell of a punk recording. It is, one could rightfully say, the rebirth of grunge but on British land. Their love for female bands like Sleater-Kinney is ever present. The heavy drums and Katie Harkin’s voice stand as proof that the Olympia-trio is reincarnated into Sky Larkin.

Like fellow Brits Johnny Foreigner, Sky Larkin have always had a great pop sensibility: their songs seem to be instant hit in Indieland. The Foals-scented Year Dot with its computer game feel, the sun-kissed metal-infused Spooktacular with its obsessive chorus, the ecstatic Stay Windmills with its crescendos, all are meant to be festival anthems, musical tour-de-forces that should not be known be a handful of people and should grace radio waves.

Kaleide is by no means a surprise to those who know Sky Larkin’s previous output, but it makes for a great listen. Sky Larkin are slowly growing up and evolving while staying true to themselves and to their now trademark sound. This album is not supposed to raise eyebrows. What Kaleide is here for is to tell us to keep our eyes on the guys and never forget just what a wonderful band they are.

The Taste Of Dance

2010-08-10T13:20:00.001+03:00

There should be no surprise Wild Beasts and their haunting Two Dancers are up for the much desired Barclaycard Mercury Prize. The four Brits are a shameless bunch. They dazzle you with their music, they show you their magical world, they creep into your soul and make you forget all about the other bands you’ve ever heard. They simply turn into your favourite band after just one guitar chord. There should also be no surprise We’ve Still Got The Taste Dancing On Our Tongues was chosen as a new single.

Perfectly stylish like a Tom Ford film, it sparkles with its understated guitar riff. As if an homage to Clockwork Orange (“Us kids are cold and cagey rattling around the town/ Scaring the oldies into their dressing gowns”), it calls all arms to a night of debauchery. Through The Iron Gate drips sexuality. Hayden Thorpe’s neurotic vocals and the steady drums, the way the melody tangles around you brain, they all throw you into a dark world of back alleys and striking loneliness, of grey faces and resentment. The acoustic version of Devil’s Crayon only helps add to the beauty of the song: the studied urgency of the original is replaced by a soft guitar that twitches under the spell of the song’s words. The remix for Two Dancer II done by producer Jon Hopkins is also nothing to be ashamed of: its heavy electro beats do not take away anything of the song’s mystery or grace. They but make it even more haunting, a song between to worlds, those of the dancefloor and of bedroom meditation.

As expected, this EP it is a masterful release: what could be bad about it? It is just a reminder that one should love the art-rockers and never give their hearts away to false idols.

Days Of Summer

2010-08-10T12:04:00.000+03:00

Nostalgia for the unremembered 80s, James Murphy used to bitch about it. David Vandervelde is pretty nostalgic about stuff (yes, stuff as in far too many things all together in the same jar). Not the 80s, though maybe he hangs around those things as well. T.Rex, stoners, limited vinyl releases, stuff like that. So there should be no shock that his Summer Hits EP is released as a 300-copies only vinyl format.

The four songs may not be new, but summertime pop genius drips from every second of these songs and makes it natural for this EP to be released now. The mantra-like Learn How to Hang seems to be Arcade Fire at double speed, with its exhilarating guitars, Casio-keyboards and twinkles and rapid hand claps. The T.Rex-scented Wave Country seems to be made out of explosions of sun: the fuzz, the guitar riffs, the metallic drums are all part of this finger-licking pop gem. The ghost of Marc Bolan is summoned once again by the insane glam-rock bluesy riff that opens Checkin’ Out My Baby. But there’s also the catchy vocals and stomping drums that make it such a perfect song for dancing your night away. Like the last song, Fancy Friends, and its high-spirited piano, it begs for numerous plays, it asks you to never let is go.

Summer Hits might not be all that new with all the four songs having been released digitally a while ago. But it’s an EP made out of instant classics and ear candy alone, four strong songs that almost yell how Vandervelde has that gift of crafting unforgettable music in his veins.

The Meaning Of Change

2010-08-03T10:08:00.005+03:00

Probably one of the major problems of every band in the universe is how to reinvent their music on each of their albums and, at the same time, keep their specific style. It is a must, indeed. No one wants to record the debut album over and over again (or at least, almost no one). It is also a difficult task, because change is not always for the best. And when it comes about a happy-happy-joy-joy band like Shapes and Sizes, one of the solutions is to put the happiness aside for a moment. Using a metaphor, sometimes you just have to turn off the lights and light candles instead. And this is what they did on their lastest release, Candle To Your Eye.

The change can be felt right from the first track, and I'm talking about Caila Thompson-Hanant's voice. You can almost picture her winking and saying "You knew I was good, but you had no idea that I can be that good, right?" Throw in Rory Seydel's almost androgynous vocals and the things are set. No more words needed.

Instrumentally speaking, it seems they really took seriously their desire to change things by turning to a more meditative and, in certain aspects, elaborated sound. A few highlights: the rhythmic drum sound from Tell Your Mum added to short and intense guitar riffs and dreamy piano sounds is a big yes. Another must is Too Late For Dancing. With its teasing dreams, ethereal vocals and guitar sounds it turns into one of those songs that is erotic by default, while Old Worlds' tribal beats and oddly keyboard sounds are simply dazzling, and you cannot help but love it.

There's a lot to say about the other songs as well, but no word is better than the actual listening, and certainly a list of superlatives is futile. On this album, Shapes and Sizes manage to prove that they are one of those bands that know how to change their sound, but remain themselves at the same time. Good job.

*photo courtesy of Asthmatic Kitty official site

There Is No Such Thing As Magic

2010-08-02T12:49:00.001+03:00

For two or three songs (I’m inclined to think two is the correct number but my memory keeps playing tricks on me), The Magic Numbers were fun. Not intellectually or musically challenging. No, those are big words and the band’s music was not made for such great words. But those sweet love songs (all I seem to remember about them, not name or how the chorus was) were fun. Yes, I am aware that anytime I can search the internet, a simple click on Lastfm or Youtube and refresh the memory of those songs. Trouble is there is nothing the makes me want to, just like there was nothing that made me want to hear any other The Magic Numbers songs. Of course, back when they still had a debut album, I did listen to it. Trouble was it was bland enough to make me forget about the four Brits.

Trouble is their new album, The Runaway, convinced me I did nothing wrong when I chose to do so. Being nice and sweet is all ok but The Magic Numbers abuse these two things to the point where it’s nauseating. And boring. Really boring. They once in a while try something like a bit of psychedelia or a heavier beat as if trying to get closer to the esthetics of bands like Sons and Daughters but too little and they do it as if forced by someone. But it’s Romeo Stodart’s voice that ruins it all and gets on your nerves. Too eager to show all the pains of love, too common, too bland, too lo-fi.

Trouble is it could’ve been a really nice album, the kind that calls for a quiet day. Its major problems are not the instrumentals. Not even the fact that the crescendos of Sound of Something or strings on Dreams Of A Revelation are so cheesy you feel embarrassed they wrote such a song. Or that The Song That No One Knows is so early 90s boy band ballad. Its major problem is its inconsistency. Its major problem is that is gives you a hint of what The Magic Numbers could do if only Romeo would step down and let the girls sing. Among all the bad ideas that become songs, Throwing My Heart Away shines so bright with its female vocals and Camera Obscura feeling. In fact, it is here and on Why Did You Call?, when The Magic Numbers drop off the folk pretense and embrace pop and little hints of electro pop, that they make remarkable songs, with real emotions. Why Did You Call? is the only moment when Romeo’s hushed vocals work so well with the rest of the instruments, the vocals themselves used as a instrument, softly complementing the gentle guitars and drums.

Trouble is The Runaway is a major hit-and-miss. Almost every song has a certain potential but is ruined somewhere, somehow and, if we were to be truthful, it’s hard to listen to them tops to bottom without pressing the next button. Trouble is The Magic Numbers did waste everyone’s time with releasing a whole album and not just an EP with the only album stand-outs. It would’ve allowed those songs to not get lost amongst bland pieces of music and helped more people discover them and their beauty.

Evil And A Heathen

2010-08-01T18:00:00.001+03:00

There should be little doubt about how biased I am as I am writing this. “Highly” is an understatement.

Grinderman – Heathen Child

I am pretty convinced Nick Cave needs but breath and everything that comes in contact with his carbon dioxide becomes pure genius. Heathen Child was blessed with far more than Cave’s breath, so prepare to forget about Christ, Buddha and Krishna. Cave graces each second of this dirty sultry blues, each of Warren Ellis’s epically insane guitar riff with his part prophet part madman voice, with his story that might as well be turned into a novel like the Faulkner-scented And The Ass Saw The Angel. The album, Grinderman 2, is to be released on the 13^th of September and, be damn sure, there will be a very biased review up on this blog.

The Twilight Sad – Throw Yourself In The Water Again

The band’s upcoming EP, The Wrong Car, should be here as a whole, there is no denying. Both songs are fantastic and the remixes (one by Mogwai and one by Errors) are wonderful reworks of the original Forget The Night Ahead tracks. So why this particular track? Because of the paranoia the swirls of guitars voice each moment. Because of the way the pounding drums kick in the song biting hard into the air. Because of the distorted vocals the get lost in the web of the melody. Because of the way the instrumental fades when James Graham almost shouts “And I’m dancing over your grave”. Because of the sonic blast that follows that very moment. And, because, after all this, Throw Yourself… proves to be an insanely catchy song, the kind that follows you around all day, quietly playing itself in the back of your head.

The Science Of Dreams

2010-07-31T16:19:00.006+03:00

Considering the fact that Autolux released a debut album that made Trent Reznor, Thom Yorke, PJ Harvey and Flaming Lips become their fans, you might say that they have a more than decent CV. However, Future Perfect is six years old (yes, they too are one of those bands that seem to enjoy torturing fans) and no matter how wonderful one release might be, at a certain point you'll need something new. Which they did in 2008, with Audience No 2, a piece of dreamy vocals and an annoyingly complex and beautiful drum line, that served mostly to make you crave for more. And now they are back, this time with the whole pie. Ladies and gentlemen... here it is. Transit Transit.

If someone would want to express the strange universe of human dreams in a film, then probably Autolux would be a serious candidate for the soundtrack. Their music is chill and still you can feel a certain vibe of insecurity, the idea that someone could follow you and attack you when you expect less. The title track is a good example: the ethereal vocals and piano make you feel at ease but the drums in the background keeps you awake the whole song. The feeling is enhanced on Census, due mostly to the disturbing guitar lines, that would make even Sonic Youth to be proud to have this song in their setlist.

High Chair pushes things to the next level. Its instrumental is even more peaceful, so peaceful that at a certain moment you become a little anxious. Feeling that also appears on Spots, while The Bouncing Wall seems to be especially created to drive you nuts with trying to find a way to describe it other than "it has some strangely wonderful electronic sounds". However, they always remain on the edge, never crossing the border that makes the difference between a dream and a nightmare, and this can be seen perfectly on the last song, The Science Of Imaginary Solutions, which appears not only as a summary, but also as a conclusion to the whole album, a mix of powerful drum lines, deep piano sounds and more than wonderful vocals.

Eclectic as they might be, Autolux managed to create a music that satisfies, without being excessively diversified. So yeah, the waiting was worth it. Let's hope now it won't pass other six years until the next album.

*photo courtesy of Autolux's official site

And The Board Reads "You Like Sophisticated Lemons!"

2010-07-30T12:14:00.014+03:00

From left to right: Spike(drums), Radu(lead vocals), Alex(bass), Andrei (guitar)

The first thing that strikes you about Sophisticated Lemons is that they are young. Only 18 and 19, they are the youngest band on the Romanian alternative scene. But they’ve already been around for two years, put out an EP on the internet so they could get their music across, had a line-up change, a number one on an alternative music radio and know what it takes to get people to listen to your band.

No Wave: Every story has a "There once was...". What comes after "..." in your story?
Radu Osaciuc (lead vocals): There once was a boy named Andrei Drăguşanu who was forced by his parents to learn how to play an instrument. How his great father said, he used to hold the guitar like a man would hold a woman. [the rest laugh, Andrei protests] Everything started with Andu, our former bass player, and Spike [our drummer]. They met Andrei and Andrei asked me to sing with them maybe something works out. And it did. Andu left because we had different interests, he didn't really want to focus on this thing and wanted to do other things. And we thought we shouldn't stand in each other's way. We didn't fight about it or anything. And now we have a new bass player, Alex Marinescu, who satisfies us musically.
Andrei "Spike" Popa (drums): Satisfies us on many levels.

NW: What do you mean by "other things"?
Radu: Musically we got along very well, just that we wanted to keep playing as a band and he had other plans, management, to go abroad. Different future plans.
Spike: Of course, in the beginning, this was a hobby for us all...

Radu: But when we started making millions of dollars... [the band laughs].

NW: When did you realise you want to keep doing this?

Spike: The first five minutes of playing with Radu.

Andrei Drăguşanu (guitar): No, no, the first few days...

Spike: We recorded some songs really fast. When Radu joined the band, it felt like a breath of fresh air. We recorded some songs and realised it was ok so we decided to continue in this formula.

Alex Marinescu (bass): I realised I want to do this the day I was born. [the others laugh and applaud but Spike stops them]

Spike: We are in a serious place, this is how we do it. [puts on a serious face and hits the table with his hand]

NW: Why Sophisticated Lemons?

Radu: I had a lemon when I was small.

Spike: Andu had a fetish for lemons...

Radu: He thought it would sound fresh.
Andrei: He had a lemon when he was young that would never rot.

Spike: And I said that is would be really fun to call ourselves Sophisticated Lemons.

Radu: No, you didn't! We initially wanted to call ourselves Crates and Lemons but that didn't work. And then I thought of Sophisticated Turtles. And then we combined them and got Sophisticated Lemons. It's not a story like "mum had a dog that flew and it was named The Flying Dog". We thought of a name and this was the one we all agreed with.

NW: Your first concert. Do you remember it?

Radu: Our first serious concert... Because we've played before to see how we're doing. There were unplugged concerts and such at the Folk Evening in Fire Club if I'm not mistaken. And the first time we played, two years ago I think...

Spike: It was unplugged...

Radu: No, no. I was with a friend who said we should play. And we did Wonderwall, a song anyone can play. That was the first time.

Spike: Oh, when you played a gig!

Radu: No, Andrei came as well and we sang Rihanna's Disturbia, an unplugged version. And then we talked to the guys there "You know, we have a band, we can bring in drums, stuff". They were "Sure, ok". And we did but it didn't go ok because the people there listened to folk and when you dive folk people plugged instruments, they don't like it. Our first serious concert was the one in Control, with Omul Cu Şobolani. They asked us on MySpace. And we said "Ok". That's where it all started, the internet reviews and all.

NW: Do you have any special memories from that concert?

Radu: I think that's when we had our first encore.

Spike: I remember that is when we met one of our favourite sound technicians, from Rain District.
Radu: And we've worked with him for our latest concert in Fabrica. Thing is that there were many people there who listened to us and didn't throw stuff at us. I mean, we had confidence but we didn't think the OCS crowd would like us.

Sophisticated Lemons - Scrambled
NW: Is there a song you wish you wrote?

Andrei: Dragostea din tei [by O-zone].

Spike: Well, it did make millions of euros.

Radu: Each one of us has his own favourite bands.

Spike: I wish I wrote Porcupine Tree's Sound Of Muzzak

Radu: I don't know, what do I like and has made a lot of money? There are plenty of songs you hear and say "man, I wish I wrote this one". Many Kasabian songs, Arctic Monkeys. I don't have just one. For instance, Kasabian's Fire, Arctic Monkey's I Bet That You Look Good. I wish they were mine but I'm happy with what I have right now. I hope that one day one of our songs will be make someone say "God, I wish I wrote that song".

Andrei: Financially, any of the big hits. Now, from the stuff I like...

Radu: Mozart! [laughs]

Andrei: No, Bach, I wish I was Bach and wrote what he wrote. [the band laughs]

Alex: Queen, what was it called...? Fahrenheit!

NW: What inspires your songwriting?

Radu: Food [laughs]. I don't know, you get a certain feeling and pick up the guitar and you see something comes out. Or not. I don't know, it depends. We don't have something special.

Spike: I wish I know more instruments. When I get an idea I can't always play it. I mean, I can recreate the sounds in Fruity Loop but I can't actually play them on an instrument.

NW: How did you pick the songs from your EP, Pleased To Meet You?

Radu: We thought we had some songs and how can people listen to those songs. And the easiest way was to put them on the internet. Some were already recorded. We thought of doing some more.

Andrei: We had recorded them before as in "Look, man, I did a song out of nothing and let's record it fast"

Radu: It's not an actual EP taken out by a label. It's done by us, uploaded on the internet, hey, listen to it.

Spike: We did so we would have something out there on the internet. Half of the songs were already recorded.

Radu: People actually listened to it. We were amazed.

NW: How did On My Own get to be on Guerrilla Radio?

Radu: We went with our EP to Guerrilla and asked them to choose a song, the one that they wanted. On My Own ended up on the airplay and we didn't expect that. We were new entry at number 44 and the next week we were number 1. We just couldn't believe it.

Andrei: We were on the second position for two weeks and now we're number one again.

Radu: And now we're trying to send it to other radios that might play it. I don't know, City FM.

NW: Have you thought how your first video should be like?

Alex: Either something pop art like the photo on the EP. Filmed and passed through a filter so you could see just the shapes. Or black and white photos. Stop frame.

Radu: I thought of something simple. Just me.

Spike: In the bathroom, under the shower.

Andrei: And I can show up once in a while, just a frame, as a subliminal message.

Radu: With a board that reads "You like Sophisticated Lemons!"

Spike: I was thinking of something like Magheru Avenue and a camera coming down

Radu: And a drum set at the end of the avenue. And really cool cars that all stop to watch you play drums. And water on the drums, so when you bang them drops jump. Andrei can do a solo off The Intercontinental Hotel. Alex on the Triumph Arch. And I on the People's House. Really, man! Let's make some phonecalls and it's done.

NW: As the youngest band on the Romanian indie scene, do you have any advice for younger kids who want to make music?

Andrei: Of course, they should work hard.

Spike: And not allow others to walk over them.

Alex: Most of the ones who want to make music don't because they give up after three-four months. In the beginning, you can't get any satisfactions because you can't actually play something.

Radu: You have to start playing. We are the youngest on the Romanian underground scene. I don't think it's hard to do this. You just have to work and if you work and believe in what you do, it can be done.

Spike: Success comes with time and if you are aware of this and work hard, satisfaction will come.

Andrei: You have to build a solid base because many of them do the mistake of putting out something that is not exactly ok and people will automatically get a bad impression. You have to work until something good comes out, something others would listen to as well.

Radu: At our first concert, we could've played a lot of covers. Any band can cover other songs. During our first concert, we played one cover from Arctic Monkeys and we had tried not to include it on the setlist either. That we would play only our own songs. It's ok if you don't play covers because there are a lot of bands that do great covers. What matter is what you have done, your creation.

You can download their Pleased To Meet You EP here

Neon Suburb

2010-07-29T14:56:00.000+03:00

Recording in a church, major love from David Bowie, Terry Gilliam directing their webcast. Plus incredible outputs, albums that never fail to send chills down your spine, grand and lavish orchestrations without any irony or cheesiness. Arcade Fire are one of those bands that make you want to put down those instruments because it is blatant you will never be like them. And if you can’t be like the Canadian band, what’s the point? Three years later after the superb Neon Bible, Arcade Fire return with The Suburbs, further proof their place amongst modern rock’s best bands is well deserved.

Crystal clear as always, Arcade Fire is not your happy-happy band. The piano off the title song might make you feel like the sun is softly touching your skin and the wind gently playing with your hair. But behind the carelessness of the high-pitched “I’m moving past the feeling” lies the hopelessness of life in the suburbs (“By the time the first bombs fell/ We were already bored”). The band goes to and fro between these rays of hope and bitter pills. They trick you with crescendos and dance-y drums, sun-kissed pianos and jingly guitars. They make out of Ready To Start’s instrumental almost a cathartic experience while Win Butler wails “I would rather be alone than pretend I feel alright”.

An impeccable guitar riff follows him as he draws the picture of the Modern Man, “They say we are the chosen few/But we’re wasted”, voice at that point where you feel like he’s about to break down. Frail, lost, he repeats “rococo” like a mantra that is supposed to protect him from the dullness, a mantra that would be nothing without the church-like feeling off the whole song. The organ, the strings, the big drums are classic Arcade Fire, sort of like their unmistakable signature. The racing violin and wailing guitars of Empty Rooms magically wrap themselves around the choir vocals and turn the song into one of the most energetic Arcade Fire have ever written. A remarkable performance on an album that translates as highlight after highlight.

The gentleness of Half Light I is a wonderful intro to the spaced-out, 80s sci-fi movie-like keyboard on the aural Half Light II. And while this might seem weird, the moment when Arcade Fire turn completely rockabilly is not something many would expect. Month Of May has a fantastic raw punk energy, lacks any pretensions, and seems to one great change of pace in the album’s tempo. So the high-spirited pianos, the bluesy guitar riffs or the pounding drums (the trio Wasted Hours – Deep Blue – We Used To Wait) that follow don’t seem out of place. They are moments where Win Butler’s voice seems rejuvenated, not torn down by hurt and fear of failure in the suburbs.

But even if Win hopes for a moment that something pure can last, there is no hope on the theatrical and minimalist homage to despair Sprawl I (Flatlands). Win’s voice seems beaten down as he laments “It was the loneliest day of my life” and sounds like Conor Oberst in his darkest moments. So there one should feel amazed by the quick change to Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains) with its Heart Of Glass vibe, the disco lights that seems to come out of each keyboard note, Regine Chassagne’s perfect pop voice. It almost feels like you are expected to take out your roller-skates and go down to the local disco.

It’s a really long album, 16 tiresome pieces. Tiresome because of their complexity, the care Arcade Fire take into crafting each song means that there will always be a rich orchestration and one must be ready to take in too much information. A first play will not fully reveal each wonderful detail. In fact, it is hard to believe one can overplay The Suburbs because this is hardly an album that will ever get old, sound dated or ever fail to surprise you.

The Sound Of Cosmic Loneliness

2010-07-28T09:45:00.001+03:00

Gruff Rhys is a crazy odd Welshman. He likes furry things and spaced-out songs. He likes to come up with weird stories behind which he hides the truth about his projects. Expressions like ‘United States of Britain” and ideas like literary dissolving the unelected House of Lords are thrown at the average music listener and baffle him. They leave you wondering what the hell is the super furry Welsh bloke up to this time.

‘Peace be with you brothers and sisters, there is no death, only light, there is no evil when it collides with good will.’ They said yesterday in a joint statement on the steps of 10 Downing St. And Gruff and Tony da Gatorra unleashed The Terror of Cosmic Loneliness. Or ten tracks that are meant to go down as the weirdest thing taken out this year. At least this is what Gruff must wish.

There are many reasons why it deserves this title. There are plenty of bits and pieces of experimental electronica all through out the album. Dance beats, scratches, misplaced chords. Tony da Gatorra’s voice is not exactly what one would call ‘harmonious’ and the man draws plenty of influences from Mark E. Smith. Add to this echoes that linger around and screams that get embedded in your brain like the ones on Eu Protesto and you have the picture of a person sinking deep in a state of paranoia. But it isn’t only an experimental album. It’s also a rock one. The heavy riffs on Voz Dos Semterra enhance the terror and punctuate every line. Never has the word “violencia’ sounded so scary. In fact, never has the whole Brazilian language sounded so menacing.

And once more, the project shows itself as multilateral. It is, after all, a ‘vs.’ not ‘featuring’. While Gatorra’s vocals sore, Gruff’s seem to melt over each bleep. He sings his way through the distortions and signals of 6868 as if this is SFA’s Golden Retriever. He takes on In A House With No Mirrors, with its bluesy guitar riff, crescendo, metallic drums and bleeps, and turns it into one of the most danceable songs off the album (and easiest to listen to). He sparkles all through the psychedelic-disco outfit Oh! Warra Hoo! as if this is but a SFA song that was remixed by Holy Fuck. He offers oments of tranquillity in between Gatorra’s outbursts. He tones it down and makes it enormously lovable when Gatorra virtually begs you to throw the album into the dust bin.

The Terror Of Cosmic Loneliness is a schizoid album, somewhere between to worlds, one of peace and reassurance everything will be ok and one of fear and constant hardships. It is hard to swallow and maybe many people won’t enjoy Gatorra’s bits. But it is an album that does exactly what it wants, when it wants and has no shame of what it’s done. And neither should Gruff and Gatorra.

Burn In The Summertime

2010-07-27T15:24:00.008+03:00

They recorded their first album in the basement of a funeral home back in 2008 and called it There's No Sky (Oh My My), so it’s safe to say the guys from Jaill do not lack a sense of humour. However, its re-release and especially the release of their new album, That's How We Burn, serve as a reminder that this is actually serious business. Professionally speaking, of course - pay attention to the cover and you'll see my point.

Somehow, the whole album follows the idea of the cover, which could be basically resumed as "You're familiar with all of this... but tell me, isn't it fun?" And boy, aren't they right? Sure, innovation is off, but they're on and ready to rock. And have fun, as they say it on Snake Shakes. "Turning off is easier said than done / I can't sleep, my jaw aches from not having any fun."

"When you panic, do you count to ten? / When you're surrounded, do you hold your breath?", Vincent Kircher rhetorically asks on opener The Stroller and you already feel your eyebrows rising. But it is not that bad. The lyrical part might not be their best one at times but they keep it decent and are even inspired ("I saw that you'd made our likeness in sand" goes one line off On The Beat).

Instrumental-wise, things are even better, especially the album intro. It's sharp, it's straight to the point, it has dazzling guitars and daring drums, it's the perfect beginning. The other tracks are friendlier, without being boring not even when the guys completely slow the train and show us what can they do with an acoustic guitar on what is the folk moment of the album, Summer Mess.

That's How We Burn is certainly not the type of revolutionary album made to turn the world upside down. But Jaill have tried to make it as fun and interesting as possible, and, it is safe to say, they managed.

*photo courtesy of Jaill's official site

Summer Mood

2010-07-27T13:52:00.000+03:00

Shangri-Las and Ronettes boys and girls know there is no reason with you shouldn’t bang those drums like it’s summertime and sing about heartaches. Little sweet 60s surf pop chords sneaking in your bones, making you lip-sing every word and harmony. Lyrics about pretty boys and teeny love affairs sang with hope of the perfect love story in every little distort. Bethany Cosentino and Bobb Bruno voice all these wonderfully on the sun-soaked Crazy For You, without fear of being name-tagged or easily dismissed as frivolous.

Cosentino sings about her desires in a seemingly simple fashion but her lyrics are down right honest and she does not apologise or gives the impression of being irony when penning raw and basic lines (“I just wanna tell you that I always miss you”). She puts her fears, insecurities, jealousy out there in the burning light of the sun for all to see (“Pick up the phone/I wanna talk about my day/It really sucked”, “The other girl’s not like me/She’s skinnier and prettier”). And in the band’s hands even a line like “You’re happy” repeated obsessively feels more than just one dumb short sentence.

Crazy For You’s melodies are brisk, basic and laid back. Just like the lines are simple but well-put together, each chord, drum beat and ‘woooo’ are sewn to one another to become short songs in such a way they instantly catch one’s attention and are easy to like. They call for the sunset, sunrise and everything in between, whole days spend on the beach in a chaise lounge, doing nothing but listening to the album. Each guitar solo inspires long driven on Californian highways or road trips to Mexico, with the sun rays reflecting in the windshield.

Essentially, Best Coast’s debut is a summer album. A fun, charismatic summer album. But they use the best tricks they have up their short sleeves (loveable beach-pop guitars, heart-felt lyrics, Ramones ethics even) in turning Crazy For You into an album that won’t be forgotten after the end of August.

Eleven Little Songs

2010-07-24T17:55:00.001+03:00

Man, waiting four years for an album must suck. I know, I’ve been waiting five for an album that is still being delayed be the band (I see you, Casablancas, saying the new Strokes album won’t be out until next year). Luckily, Menomena aren’t that heartless. Yes, the release date has been changed about three times but now the Portland trio’s fourth material is out and ready for many, many plays. For Menomena didn’t sit around the studio for so long only to take out an ok album. “Critically acclaimed” is what their previous albums were so Mines should be as well.

You’ll also be hearing things such as ‘more melodic’, ‘not so experimental like before’, ‘less quirky’ when someone will bring the album up. Then somebody else will remember the bath tub photos and the discussion will shift from the music to how creepy or not those photos were. Getting back to the album, those words would, indeed, be almost perfect to describe it. It strikes you from the heart-on-my-sleeve album opener Queen Black Acid. Its chorus “You bring me down”, almost Damon-Albarn-vocals, sparkling drums, quiet guitar crescendos point out that we are going down a hard path and one should carefully pay attention. But tonality is swiftly changed with TAOS, a garage-rock bluesy outfit that has the smoothness of Black Keys and is chockfull of sing-a-long lyrics.

More melodic, yes. But Mines is by no means less ambitious than any other Menomena album. The bleakly sang lyrics of Killemall (“Did you strangle your ghost/When she broke in your home?”) are surrounded by snaring drums, breezes of piano notes and swirling guitars going up and down to create a storm of noises. Dirty Cartoons is as 90s as it could get, sprinkling bits of Sebadoh-like vocals and guitars here and there, moments of utter silence and heavy drums setting the stage for Tithe. Chimes and a guitar riff that make room for emotionally-charged lyrics and almost ethereal vocals.

But the clam atmosphere of Tithe is juxtaposed to the scratchy guitar riffs, insane drums and heavily-hit piano of BOTE. “I thought I was tough/ I thought I was strong/ Thought I could handle anyone who came along” and the heart is on its sleeve again but hidden by the many layers of distortions. Lunchmeat sees the trio in the mood for more experimental crazy shit and with a strange desire to take a bite out of TV On The Radio’s rightful little niche. Oh Pretty Boy, You're Such A Big Boy is strangely gloomy, intoxicating nonetheless with its atmospheric guitars, low keys and lingering vocals. The saxophone off Five Little Rooms turns a far too ethereal song into a more grounded one, while its poignant drums seem to explode under the pressure of the church-organ-like ghostly piano.

The only genuinely strange track on Mines is Sleeping Beauty. Its ups and downs in tonality make it feel like two different songs: one too lo-fi and that requires complete attention and focus to be understood and another that is almost a burst of energy with its distorted choir-vocals and big drums. INTIL wraps up the album wonderfully. It has the most emotional piano on the whole record, marching drums and more surreal vocals that feel like breaths of fresh air. It build-ups perfectly only to end abruptly and leave place for complete silence, as if this was the only way to release all your emotions.

Mines might be more melodic, less experimental, less quirky, might be sad and dark and filled with various emotions that are thrown out into the limelight. But Mines is magical and is another important step into the growth of a really amazing band. It is a story of coming-of-age, in that Menomena are becoming more mature music-wise and are learning to play around with far more complex concepts than before.

How To Sing Well

2010-07-21T15:03:00.004+03:00

Tom Krell is definitely not your regular type of artist, and if you googl his name, or his musical project's name, How to Dress Well, you'll most likely approve. Or maybe the lack of information about him is due to the fact that he's somehow a newbie, considering the fact he decided to share his tunes recently (in October of last year, to be more specific). But apparently he thought that playtime is over as he is releasing a 7", called Ready For the World (apparently, he's more than determined).

The title might suggest a very realistic, straight-in-your-face approach, but the reality is different. The song has a very chill instrumental, with dreamy, misterious voices, and it makes you want to sit on your couch/bed/carpet in the dark, smoke a cigarette and forget about everything. And if you listen to it in the middle of the day, it makes you want to close your window and pull the curtain down. It also has a sensual (and sexual) touch (the repetitive beat in the background is the one to blame). The remix is basically the same thing, with just a few additional elements added, but if you liked the song, I don't think you'll find this disturbing.

So yeah, he seems to be ready for the world. For the musical world, at least.

*photo courtesy of How To Dress Well's blog

They Were Really Ready

2010-07-20T22:34:00.003+03:00

Five years, what a surprise (I just felt like writing this). If you're asking yourselves what's wrong with me, I will put it clearly, instead of messing around: The Books decided, after five years, to release their fourth studio album. It is called The Way Out, it has fourteen tracks, and it is their first album under the label Temporary Residence Limited. And because it's about The Books (which is, as far as I'm concerned, one of the few bands, if not the only one, able to transform almost every sound in great tunes), of course expectations were pretty big. So let's see what they brought us this time.

"Hello, greetings and welcome to a new beginning, for this tape will serve you as a new beginning. That's right, a new beginning, for we are ready to begin", the guys state on the album opening, Group Autogenics I, trying to explain us in few words the concept of the whole album. That shouldn't be surprising. If you've listened to this band at least once, you probably got used with their style - "collage music", this is how they call it (a very inspired description if you're asking me).

The new beginning (or the main change in sound) is represented not by the songs' structure itself (it's still the collage we knew and loved, thank the almighty god of music for that!), but by the addition of electronic sounds. And by that I mean A LOT of electronic sounds. Hell, it feels like you bathe yourself in a bath of electro music. But it feels damn good and refreshing. And because we're here, perhaps you should closely pay attention to the fourth track, A Cold Freezin' Night. The world won't be ever the same after you'll hear that obsessive beat and that kid uttering death menaces, I can guarantee for that.

All You Need Is A Wall is another strong highlight (I say strong, because, honestly, this album is full of highlights) due to the deep, introspective sounds, mixed with that wonderful, ethereal female voice, to the point where it almost makes you grateful that you're able to hear. And that's it, I won't say anything else, because I already feel guilty for nominating only two songs, so please excuse me. I'll end it here, and instead of a conclusion regarding this album, I'll just write down some of the words uttered in the final track, Group Autogenics II, "You are a masterpiece, you are a work of art".

*photo courtesy of The Books' official site

No Change, I Can't Change

2010-07-18T16:18:00.005+03:00

I guess The Verve's story could be called without a problem "The Death And Resurrection Show". We meet, we like each other, we make a band, we fight, we break up, we realise we still love each other, we reunite, we fight again, we break up again, we met again, we reunite for the third time, we fight for the third time, we break up for the third time. Man, what a headache. However, Richard Ashcroft stated afterwards that there is really no point for The Verve getting back together anymore. Moreover, he started another musical project, called RPA and The United Nations of Sound. Some kind of "Look at me, I still have ideas when it comes to band names". Naturally, the debut album is called United Nations of Sound. "If you come up with a good idea, why waste it, right?" Ashcroft probably thought.

But enough joking. When you were part of a successful band (and you might say what you like, but you can't deny the awesomeness of Urban Hymns) and you start another one, comparison is inevitable. I mean, look at The Tears, they could never escape Suede's ghost, no matter how hard they tried - and we all know how it ended. Ashcroft, however, is a really stubborn person (but I bet you already realised that). Plus, he already experimented a solo career, even if it wasn't quite a successful one, so we might say he's prepared.

Even before you hear this release, you can get the idea of a new beginning - it is inevitable with titles like Born Again or Glory. Somehow, things change when you start to listen to it, as you realise there is nothing breathtaking there. An exception is Good Loving, which is a real highlight, as it sounds really nice, the beats are powerful and even Ashcroft's voice has something convincing in it. However, it's a unique moment. To give just an example, Beatitudes starts with a very nicely beat, but it ends up having such a repetitive and plane chorus, that you'll probably feel the need to skip it before the end. Same thing happens with most of the tracks. Nothing really innovative, nothing that could make you shiver or faint on the floor.

It's true, we cannot actually talk about wrong steps. It's a nice listening but this is not enough, and we all know that. The guitars are okay, the voice is okay, the keyboard is okay, the sampling is okay. It's so okay and pleasant that it becomes a problem. At least for now Ashcroft seems unable to escape The Verve's ghost, and at this particularly moment you might start to understand the deeper meaning of "The Death And Resurrection Show".

*photo courtesy of Richard Ashcroft's official site

From Another World

2010-07-17T22:26:00.005+03:00

There are few bands that immediately put big stupid smiles on our faces. Klaxons are one of them. The video for Echoes is like nothing they've ever done but is fantastic, further prove these boys can do no wrong. And the song is just as fabulous and will be, just like its demo version, on repeat for many days to come.

Stop Pretending

2010-07-16T19:28:00.003+03:00

Do press play if you were in the mood for a stylish video and a good song.

A Reason To Play Safe

2010-07-16T14:35:00.005+03:00

Here's a new one: Hey Champ have finally released their debut Star. At first sight, nothing impressive, right? But I must admit this sounds promising, the idea of victory melting with the feeling you get when you're somewhere up high (and no, I'm not talking about drugs, ok, kids?). Or maybe it's just me and my habit of seeing things from different points of view. The band cites as influences, on their MySpace profile, "Art, History, Science, the 80s, Cartoons, Where in the World is Carmen San Diego, and of course Personal Misfortune / Insecurity". Yeah, apparently these are the main influences from many other bands nowadays (except maybe for Where in the World is Carmen San Diego). But let's allow the music to speak.

Ok, perhaps this could not seem to be the most original thing you've heard in your life. Basically, it's your typical synth pop band with lyrics about human emotions and stuff. However, it is so difficult to be original, that most people prefer to take it easy and play safe but play damn good. And this is what Hey Champ did.

They know what to do and they know how to do it to make it sound almost perfect. More than anything else, the synths are truly amazing, the salt and pepper of the album and that small detail that gives every song a special, unique fragrance. Combined with Saam Hagshenas' warm, pleasant voice, this makes a very nice first release. It's impossible to listen to this album and not fall in love with at least one of the songs. My sincere bet is on the first two tracks, the energetic Shake and the nostalgic Word=War.

Star is a very promising debut and a release the band should be proud of. I can only express my sincere admiration and wait to see what will the future bring for them.

I Have The Blues

2010-07-15T19:25:00.000+03:00

Ask me to list the bands that went for a whole new musical approach for their studio offerings this year and I might stop next year. Bombay Bicycle Club seem determined to add their name to this lengthy list (and make fun with all the other on the list of Friendly Fires – see “Stupid Quotes Of The Year” list in December). As if bored to be the teeny precocious ones, of bringing you the most exciting guitar riffs and the most anthemic indie numbers, the four North Londoners decided to craft the acoustic Flaws, a true bedroom (singer Jack Steadman’s bedroom, that is) recording.

“Stripped down” is the expression du jour and each song is here to support it. Americana and folk are the things that work for BBC this time. It’s like they were on a diet of Ryan Adams, Sufjan Stevens, Devendra Banhart and Bon Iver. Steadman’s voice swings between Devendra and Bon Iver, the banjo almost takes you in Sufjan’s special world, the guitar off opener Rinse Me Down seems to be the identical twin of Adams’s Everybody Knows. Make no mistake, the quirkiness of these singers is always there too.

Stripped down of all glitz of Indieland but also of all fear that showing your emotions is wrong. Chimes, Spanish guitars, Devendra-scented sunny chords, all fail to hide what this album utterly lacks: optimism. “I’ve always been a coward” complains Steadman on Many Ways only to cry of a broken heart a few songs later and making you wonder when did these kids get older before their time.

The problem is that the album, while deeply beautiful, isn’t all together that memorable. It has highlights like the ethereal Flaws but, on an overall basis, it sounds too much as if the four just took from the four artists above without making anything their own. It feels like Bombay Bicycle Club’s only desire was to make an album different from their debut I Had The Blues But I Shot It even if it wasn’t necessarily themselves. It’s rather a shame because, after hearing Flaw, it becomes clear the boys are truly talented and they are more than just another indie-by-numbers band. Maybe they need to age a bit. After all, they are only 19.

Brother, My Cup Is Empty

2010-07-15T18:03:00.001+03:00

Naming your band after another artist’s song is, in fact, the equivalent of taking off your clothes in the town market and running around while shouting your adoration for the said artist. O Children know this. O Children embrace this with out any shame. O Children flaunt their love for Mr. Nicholas Edward Cave. Heavily breathing into their microphones, the four Londoners are never afraid of being pastiche. They wear their influences on their sleeves. Influences, for The Bad Seeds are not the only ones who helped shape the sound of O Children.

While vocalist Tobi O’Kandi does take a lot from Cave’s singing technique, he would also make an Andrew Eldritch. The heavy drums and deep voice shake you out of the state of lethargy as soon as the first notes of Malo hit your ears. A cavernous sound that circles around the mantra-like “If I lose you tonight, I’ll lose you forever” oozes Sisters Of Mercy.

But O Children might as well have named themselves “The Killing Moons”. Every step closer to the band’s heart reveals a deep love for the post-punk of Echo& The Bunnymen. When they look to Cave and Eldritch for pieces of advice, they are borderline claustrophobic. When they embrace the teachings of Ian McCulloch and co, they are like a brush that barely touches the canvas: Heels and Fault Line are playful and grand.

It wouldn’t be a review for a post-punk band, if Joy Division wouldn’t get mentioned. But here, on this recording, JD’s spirit is felt only to the extend where O Children’s atmospheric sound does feel like their take on the Manchurians heavy doze of melancholia like the case of Radio Waves. And the lyrics do give you the right to expect a band like The Wombats to write a song that goes “Let’s dance to O Children and celebrate the irony”.

If the melodies seem like a myriad of things put together, it would be safe to say O’Kandi could fill either Cave’s shoes or McCulloch’s. The man has the same tonality and way of pronouncing words as the two. Lyrically, he still has to learn but the morbidity and darkness of the likes of Murder Ballads and deep sadness of Ocean Rain are all there. It seems like it’s Cave himself crooning over the Echo-like drums of Fault Line: “Brother, stop sinning and listen to your mother when she cries”.

O Children are still young, all only 19 to 21, so no one should expect them to be firmly in the place where they could be entirely ‘their own voice’. But the haunting vocals, the hypnotic rhythm section that complements them every second of the album, the shy keyboards, the sometimes incredibly shoegaze-y guitars blend together to create an album that is just as exciting and addictive as the music of those who O Children take from.

A Story To Be Told

2010-07-12T23:30:00.008+03:00

The singer, fashion designer, visual artist, songwriter and political activist, otherwise known as M.I.A., will release a new album on 13 July. Bad luck? Well, that remains to be seen. The album, called /\/\ /\ Y /\ (the stylised form of Maya) has twelve tracks and has been characterised by M.I.A. as being "schizophrenic", and a form of making people "exercise their critical-thinking muscles". Throw in the fact that YouTube put a restriction on the access to the video for the song Born Free, and you can already expect a certain degree of tension. Well...

Let's start with a fact. If you haven't realise it until now, when you say M.I.A., you say "diversity". The girl has a lot of things to say, and a lot of ways to show us what she has to say, and that reflects in her music. She's an admirer of the freedom of speech and act, and this is easy to see. Her new album album does nothing but prove this, lyrically as well as instrumentally. "You want me be somebody who I'm really not", M.I.A. complains on XXXO, and you can feel that no one who tries to impose her some limits will get out alive. The main lyrical theme on this album is represented by the immersion of technology in everyday life and by information politics (and from this point of view the release wants to be a real statement against the danger represented by the lack of alternative news sources).

Musically speaking, the album is a cocktail of electric synths, hip-hop bounces, reggae rhythms (yeah, exactly, jump to It Takes A Muscle for further information) and ethereal futuristic sounds with M.I.A.'s vocals on top of it, (just like a cherry) claiming "Yo, man, listen carefully to this!" Nice flow, you might think (and this is highly proven especially on Steppin' Up, which was most likely written to give a new meaning to the word "electric"), but you'll be wrong. Dead wrong. Because she can also sing. And here is the part when I must warn you not to take the word "addiction" too lightly. At least not when it comes to a song like the futuristic dreamy ballad Space.

/\/\ /\ Y /\ is not a release you can simply ignore. This is what a overcautious person would have said. But I'll just say this album is great. End of. And now punch me for using cliches again. I can take it.

*photo courtesy of M.I.A.'s official site

Lucid Dream

2010-07-08T17:15:00.004+03:00

At a certain point, I wrote in another review about "the great expectation syndrome" which basically appears when you hear a tremendous debut album. And yeah, even if it's a cliche, I have to say it: it's difficult to get on top but it's even more difficult to manage to stay there. That was also the case with School Of Seven Bells. Okay, and now let's finish the so-called introduction and get to the subject which is the release of their sophomore, Disconnect From Desire.

Even from the first track, you realise that the purpose of the band is not only to improve the sound of Alpinisms but to bring it close to perfection. If they would have decided to choose a single word to describe the songs that would probably be "ethereal". The annoyingly wonderful electronic sounds melt with gentle guitars and strong drum beats and create a dreamy atmosphere that will make you completely forget about the world around you.

It's true that you won't find (at least not after the first listening) a certain song that will enter your mind and remain there for at least one week, playing in your head again and again (and again...). But it's also true that this is due to the album itself, which appears (at least instrumentally) as a story on its own, more than just a random collection of songs. Of course, Alejandra and Claudia's voices are also playing a part here, a very important part actually. I honestly cannot describe their voices, because the proper superlative does not exist yet. What a shame, you'll just have to believe me or to go listen to this album (I strongly recommend the second choice).

To be more specific, the great expectations have been fulfilled with this release. Don't be surprised if you'll suddenly wake up and realise that you listened to Disconnect From Desire three times already, completely enjoying it each and every time. I'll end this review by saying that, if Alpinisms was the flower, then this album is the fruit in all its splendour.

*photo courtesy of School Of Seven Bells' MySpace

Dance To Our Disco

2010-07-07T18:34:00.002+03:00

As long as there will be music, there will be one obvious question on everyone’s mind. New Order much? Swedish-American trio Thieves Like Us are not the band to escape the question. Nor are they the one to say ‘no’. While maybe the sound is not NO in your face, the name leaves you wondering. Living in Paris took its told too on the boys’ music and there it was, their debut, Play Music. A fresh Hot Chip meets new wave meets French electro and a shitload of promises of a full dance floor studio material.

All said and done, we press fast forward and reach 2010. Here and now, we find the guys are just as eager to fill that disco. The reason this time? Ten tracks that come reunited under the name Again and Again. Reason of joy to some, reason of sorrow to others, not much has changed. Still a certain Hot Chip flair, still a bunch of French electro key twists, still some italo-disco sprinkled all over, still an obnoxious desire to put on a fanny pack, colourful shorts and a neon headband and dance the night away. They slow the pace, here and there (Mercy is awfully dark with its echoing synths) but they remain the kind of band that is perfect to make you groove even if sited.

Sure, if one were to enlist the characteristics of the trio’s music, maybe few would find something exciting. But, for a band that on paper brings nothing new, their new album rarely bored. In fact, it would be terrifyingly useless to list any highlights, as it has so many, given its purpose to provide the perfect soundtrack for a night out.

Whipping synths, robotic drums, crystal-like vocals, Pet Shop Boys quirkiness, Thieves Like Us love these things and use them properly in order to make a fantastic electro album. It sounds retro but never dated. They use electropop clichés (the female vocals a la Human League or Cut Copy, the sometimes overproduced voice) but never sound like clichés themselves. A dancefloor force they are.