An absolute epic on a record that could've used a few more of them, to be honest. Big, rolling drums and chiming acoustic guitar sound like a statement of intent from From Finn Andrews and Co. Myspace
2. Pete Doherty - Arcady Ever since Up the Bracket, Pete has dealt with high expectations. His failure to meet them means that even his good records get overlooked. Myspace
3. Mew - Beach Mew recaptures the magic of Frengers on this and most of the other tracks on No More Stories... Myspace
4. Animal Kingdom - Signs and Wonders
Although it falls squarely in the guilty pleasure category, this is still a top tune. Myspace
5. Foreign Born - Early Warnings
The high point of an otherwise spotty sophomore effort. Myspace
Still gets my vote for song of the year. It will open up new musical worlds you didn't know existed. Myspace
Honorable Mention: The Ruling Class - Sleeping Beauty A little too early 90s Britrock for its own good, this was still an intriguing track in a year with precious few of them.
Forgive me Blogger, for I have sinned. I know I've dismissed, unfairly at times, a lot of music in the past few months--I can't help it, it's in my nature. I also know that I've failed to write about the small amount of music I actually have liked--surely no way for a hobbyist critic with delusions of grandeur to act. So here, without further ado, are some reviews...
Mew--No More Stories... Mew have always been a prog rock group--I don't think anybody will dispute that. After their brilliant Frengers, though, they made the bewildering And the Glass Handed Kites. The problem? Too much prog, not enough rock. No More Stories seeks to redress the imbalance and is largely successful. "Beach" is beautiful and made more interesting by its jittery drum rhythms. Single "Repeaterbater" is a blast of inspired rock, and "Introducing Palace Players" sounds like Mew trying to emulate Timbaland. Oddly enough, it works.
The Raveonettes--Live at the Empty Bottle The precursor to what was by all accounts a lackluster Lollapalooza performance, this was the best live show I've seen by The Raveonettes. The small club environment suits them, as they ran through a selection of tracks from every album. The live debut of "Suicide" and other new track "Last Dance" sounded impeccable. A great performance.
The Raveonettes--In And Out Of Control An NME review once described the death of Britpop as the time when things went from indie bands trying to make pop music to pop bands trying to make indie music. The Raveonettes split the difference with total command of arrangements, dynamics, and overall sound coupled with an impeccable indie pedigree. On In and Out of Control "Dirty"-era Sonic Youth references abound, along with The Smiths, The Stones, and of course The Jesus and Mary Chain. This is a very very good record that weaves all of the different threads of the Raveonettes' music into a cohesive whole.
Fool's Gold--S/T Western rock acts often employ African influences to give their music a sunny, playful quality it might not otherwise possess. A more cynical observer might think they do it to get the critics all in a lather. The disproportionate response to Fool's Gold in comparison to their sister group Foreign Born is a bit embarassing, to be honest. While Foreign Born have been wrongfully ignored, the only so-so Fool's Gold are raking in plaudits from a variety of critics. Yes, "Surprise Hotel" is one of the tracks of the year (even if it probably would be just as good as an instrumental), and there are some other tracks here that present guitarist Lewis Pesacov's muso tendencies in the best possible light. But overall this is destined to be better-than-average background music.
Last Thursday, The Empty Bottle welcomed a pair of indie rock doppelgängers to Chicago: Foreign Born and The Veils. They're two bands that by all rights should be bigger than they are, who always seem on the cusp of wider stardom but never quite pull it off. I've covered both of them on Dead Flowers (and previously on Glamorama) since their respective inceptions, so seeing this show made me feel a bit like a proud papa whose kids are all grown up.
A Foreign Born live show is always an appealing proposition, even if they sometimes fall flat on record. Evident from the moment they took the stage was the mysterious replacement of original sticksman Garrett Ray, a tour de force behind the kit whose absence was noticeable, if not debilitating. The band played a set consisting almost entirely of material from their new album Person to Person, with the exception of their cover of Leonard Cohen's "Lover Lover Lover". Supplemented with a keyboardist and an extra percussionist, the band's play was confident and brimming with energy. "Vacationing People" sounded like a bonafide hit, and newest single "Winter Games" made more sense when injected with a bit of live gusto. A good portion of the crowd took away the lesson that Foreign Born are a band on the up, and I would tend to agree. Now if they could just write a big single (or at least bring back "We Had Pleasure").
This was my second time seeing The Veils at The Empty Bottle in as many years, so it's hard not to compare this show to the previous one. As with the first show, Finn Andrews and his band offered up a generous helping of second album Nux Vomica, a record fast approaching classic status. Fans of debut album The Runaway Found, on the other hand, had to be content with a Finn solo rendition of "The Tide That Left and Never Came Back".
Their third and most recent album, Sun Gangs, composed the remainder of the set: the band gave us a powerful take on "The Letter", a moving version of "Sit Down by the Fire", and an abbreviated version of "Larkspur", which felt a bit hurried (and suffered because of it). New drummer Raife had a tendency to overplay, an unwelcome change from the tactful and subtle stylings of previous drummer Henning Dietz. I suspect that problem will correct itself as he plays more with the band and gets more comfortable. Overall, The Veils played a set filled with drama, but one that didn't swing for the fences. Theirs was a performance for the already converted rather than the uninitiated. As such, this disciple was pleased.
You never get a second chance to make a first impression: Sage advice for dandruff sufferers and bands. The first time I saw Foreign Born play live, about four years ago now, I was impressed with their stage presence. I marvelled at their musical skill. I envied their clear surplus of energy. When they finished their set, however, I realized that it had all just blown right past me. I couldn't remember a single melody to save my life. Not a good sign, but I decided to be patient.
A few months later, I saw them live again. Their show had improved. Great use of lights. More energy. Their drummer was even more phenomenal. But still, at the end of the night, I couldn't remember anything. A guitar line here perhaps, a drum fill there, but no hooks.
When their first album, On the Wing Now arrived, it seemed like a promising step. I showered it with praise here and in private conversation. Sure, the final released version had been stripped of its only 'hit' ("We Had Pleasure"), and the record seemed long on musical talent while being short on catchy melodies, but I chocked it up to first album jitters. I waited patiently for the second album: the undeniable classic record wherein Foreign Born would claim their rightful title as kings of the American indie universe.
"Blood Oranges" Acoustic:
But instead of exploding with a bang, "Person to Person" lands with a thud. It's disappointingly dull, needlessly tasteful, and painfully restrained. It's not a bad record by any means: The band have clearly developed as musicians and arrangers. It's just that lack of tunes again. Foreign Born, much to their detriment, have repeatedly underestimated the sheer joy a strong hook can inspire in listeners, and Person to Person does nothing to dispel that notion.
Much like the first album, there are flashes of brilliance that intrigue and promise a more accessible sound: the boisterous brass section at the end of "Vacationing People", for example, or the space-age doo-wop in the middle 8 of "Early Warnings". These bits, much like the second half of "In the Shape" did for the first record, almost redeem Person to Person. Almost.
Now that I think about it, this is sounding a lot like my review of that first record. And that's what's so frustrating. The very best bands make that jump into the big leagues by finding a way to effectively channel their natural charisma and ability. In doing so they are able to shake people's first impressions and define themselves on their own terms. Foreign Born are still waiting to make that jump, and still trying to shake this reviewer's first impression.
If you've stopped by to read a critical review of Pete(r) Doherty's first solo record, Grace/Wastelands, you've probably come to the wrong place. My love of The Libertines and Pete's other endeavors goes back to the release of Up the Bracket. It's the topic where my lack of a journalism background truly shines through as I'm exposed as an unprofessional, hype-vulnerable fanboy.
Editor's note: This probably boosts his journalist credentials.
Ok, I'll admit that I gave Babyshambles' much-derided second record Shotters Nation a 9/10. I'll fess up to saying that the second under-produced, under-developed Libertines record was "the best thing they've ever done". I'll even own up to my shame at thinking I could write a Libertines 33 1/3 book despite the fact that 1) I've never had a review published in Pitchfork and 2) I don't ironically profess a preference for Celine Dion records.
But, right, back to Grace/Wastelands. I think it's great. A lot of these tracks have been kicking around for some time (as is Pete's wont) but Doherty, along with guest guitarist Graham Coxon and reliable producer Stephen Street, have found a way to infuse new life into them. Opener "Arcady" is an infectious country shuffle, with Coxon showing off some great guitar work. Lyrically, Pete also doesn't disappoint:
You said he was your teacher Taught you true and wise But now you know more than your teacher I see nothing but cool self-regard in your eyes
As potent as the Libertines' music was, Pete always seemed needlessly limited by the traditional punk arrangements and instrumentation. Grace/Wastelands, however, is a realization of the versatility and surprising depth of influences Doherty revealed on the original Babyshambles sessions. "A Little Death Around the Eyes", presented with an orchestral backing reminiscent of Scott Walker, sounds absolutely sinister. Coxon's accompanying guitar is claustrophobic, echoing the opium-induced doom of The Stones' "Sister Morphine". Pete's lyrics are crude, even cruel:
You'll cook and clean and sew when I tell you to And you'll dance and screw when I want you to In the hotel room you take your medicine On all fours that's your medicine "Salome" has Coxon accenting some of Pete's most interesting guitar work to date. Single "Last of the English Roses", which I have to admit has really grown on me since I first heard it, successfully incorporates dub beats and middle-eastern textures. "Palace of Bone" starts out as acoustic Libertines (with Pete seemingly aping Carl's baritone in the verses), but then transforms into a 60s psych freak-out. Pete chants "I'm gonna build me a palace of bone" as weird percussion and guitar noises clang chaotically behind him. It's the kind of track that demonstrates the songwriting prowess and imagination Pete's most ardent supporters always claimed he had, only now we have proof.
"Salome" Acoustic:
There are probably a couple of skippable tracks here. "1939 Returning" earns Pete points for trying to tell a story over the course of a song; the problem is the melody is largely forgettable. Similarly, the collaboration with Dot Allison, "Sheepskin Tearaway", is not only a bit boring; it also conjures up a troubled time for Pete that most of his listeners would probably rather forget.
At this point, with Babyshambles' limited commercial success and the recent disbanding of Barat's Dirty Pretty Things, a Libertines reunion is pretty much inevitable. One can only hope that when they reconvene to record an album, Doherty brings along the more refined and adventurous musical palate on display throughout Grace/Wastelands.
Don't look now, but New Zealand's The Veils have made an incredibly daring third record. Perched on the precipice of success after the more traditional indie of The Runaway Found and the beguiling complexity of Nux Vomica, frontman Finn Andrews has chosen to take a huge artistic gamble. For a band that has yet to properly 'break through', a 10-track lament on lost love and death may not seem like the most obvious move. But with an end product that feels this essential, adventurous, and rewarding, it's hard to argue with his thinking.
The record opens with the triumphant "Sit Down by the Fire". Produced by former Suede man Bernard Butler, it's the most obvious thing here. The big ringing acoustic guitars and rumbling drums are reminiscent of "The Wild Son", the Butler-produced lead off track of the Veils' debut. It's a bit of a red herring, however, for the music that follows is alternately dark, sparse and unforgiving.
The chiming guitar lead of "The Letter" starts the song on familiar ground, but it quickly falls away leaving a verse of little more than drums, bass, and some subtle strums. But then, guitar sounds that conjure up an army of wasps descend on the chorus and take it to a new place altogether. These alien noises return in the coda to consume the song entirely, as Finn yelps "I just want to say...goodbye."
"The Letter":
Four threadbare ballads fill in the blanks. "It Hits Deeper", "Sun Gangs", "Scarecrow" and closer "Begin Again" bring fantastic melodies to the table. Theirs is a slow burn, and their lyrics reinforce the themes of the album: "Begin Again"'s chorus goes "We're all just following the light of long dead stars". This is ultimately satisfying stuff, but there's very little instant gratification to be had. Admittedly, that would seem to be the intention.
"Scarecrow":
The real centerpiece here is "Larkspur". It's an 8-minute odyssey constructed around a deformed, serpentine blues riff. It starts chant-like, Finn repeating the phrase "Always the larkspur...no rest for my heart". It eventually explodes into shrieks of sheer horror: "FEEL LIKE SOMETHING'S GOT A HOLD OF ME" Finn yells as violent stabs of guitar punctuate the musical maelstrom. It's Sun Gangs' "In Limbo": As the centerpiece of a very tortured record, it represents a stark challenge to fans and non-fans alike, a train-is-leaving the station moment that commands you to either get on or be left behind. I'm reminded of the following passage from Paul Auster's Mr. Vertigo:
"I wasn't just a robot anymore, a wind-up baboon who did the same set of tricks for every show--I was evolving into an artist, a true creator who performed as much for his own sake as for the sake of others. It was the unpredictability that excited me, the adventure of never knowing what was going to happen from one show to the next. If your only motive is to be loved, to ingratiate yourself with the crowd, you're bound to fall into bad habits, and eventually the public will grow tired of you. You have to keep testing yourself, pushing your talent as hard as you can. You do it for yourself, but in the end it's this struggle to do better that most endears you to your fans. That's the paradox. People begin to sense that you're out there taking risks for them. They're allowed to share in the mystery, to participate in whatever nameless thing is driving you to do it, and one that happens, you're no longer just a performer, you're on your way to becoming a star."
This record will be treasured by fans of sophisticated rock music for taking them on that journey that only a fully realized piece of music can. No matter the commercial outcome, the band has made a record they can be proud of, one that will simultaneously confound, terrify, and thrill listeners. Not a bad year's work.
1. Ida Maria: "Oh My God" If I were to create something as wretchedly passe as a best album list, Ida Maria's Fortress Round My Heart would probably sit atop of it. Here's what I said in my review:
Instead, think about the good things here: the way "Queen of the World" sounds like "Vertigo" by The Libertines, or "Stella" rips off an old Motown track, or how "Oh My God" is an absolute classic brimming with barely concealed sexual energy. Ida Maria's got charisma, man, and if you can't handle that, then take your Vampire Weekend and Yeasayer records and fuck off.
2. Supergrass: "Diamond Hoo Ha Man" In all honesty, I haven't had much time for Supergrass albums since 2000's uneven self-titled effort. In 2008, however, I did have time for this infectious riff-based rocker and its hilarious accompanying video.
3. Mystery Jets--Half in Love with Elizabeth 21 was one of the albums I played to death earlier in the year but sort of forgot about as time went on. Returning to it now, I think it holds up. Here's what I said in my original review:
To be sure, on "Twenty One", the Mystery Jets have developed both as songwriters and musicians. The question is whether they're quite done evolving. Lead-off single "Young Love" has all the makings of a classic, an odd jangly little tune that's so simple even a child could sing it: 'One night of love, nothing more nothing less; one night of love left my bed in a mess. Is that you on the bus? Is that you on the train? You wrote your number on my hand and it came off in the rain.' Yes, guest singer Laura Marling's reformed Eliza Doolittle crooning seems a bit overdone, but that's a small complaint. Elsewhere, 80s homage "Two Doors Down" has a chorus that's pure Whitney Houston (pre-Bobby Brown) and a closing sax solo that Huey Lewis would trade his best beige blazer for.
"Flakes", given away as free download at the end of 2007, is "Earth Angel" on acid. It's a genuinely affecting ode to lost love and misspent youth. "Behind the Bunhouse" makes fine use of techniques perfected by The Smiths like arpeggiated guitar and that incessant shuffling beat. There's a distinct indie-disco vibe to "Half In Love with Elizabeth", the album's highlight
4. Mike Bones--What I Have Left I don't know much about Mike Bones, and to be honest, I'm not entirely sure I want to know more. Some artists are best presented in single servings, and I get the feeling that if I heard tracks besides "What I Have Left" I might be disappointed. Over the course of the song, the hopeful, rollicking music builds to a powerful crescendo, overtaking Bones' guilt-wracked lyrics and weary vocals. Powerful stuff.
5. The Veils--The House She Lived In (Live)Ok, I'll admit to a bit of cheating here. This is a 2007 live version of a song that will most likely be released in 2009. Split the difference and you get 2008, right? I had to include this if only because this was my most played track of the year. And because I interviewed Finn:
DF: Nux Vomica had some of the poppiest music you've ever produced ("Advice"), while at the same time containing some of the darkest ("Jesus for the Jugular"). How do you reconcile those two moods?
F: We put them on the same album, that's about as much reconciling as was necessary. Too many records just sounds like 10 slightly different versions of the same song to me, I'm a strong believer in The Album. You have such opportunity to bring together all the greatest elements of film and art and literature and it seems a shame to waste that - a great album can be Kubrick, Hemingway, Carravagio, The Wire and The Stones all at once and that is such an extraordinary thing.
In October I saw the Veils perform at Chicago's Lakeshore Theater. It was a fun show, and I've never seen Finn so loose with the crowd, but really it felt like more of a formal rehearsal of new material than a proper concert. Their third album should finally establish them as a top-tier group, so keep an eye out for them.
6. Glasvegas--Please Come Back Home As an early advocate for Glasvegas, I have to say that I was a bit disappointed by their self-titled debut. Whereas their early recordings had a sort of rough beauty to them, possessing the sort of sound you get when big ambitions collide with modest means, I felt the record was over-produced. My review of the LP, which never saw the light of day, even compared the album version of "It's My Own Cheating Heart That Makes Me Cry" to a power ballad by Poison. The whole thing felt short on tunes and long on major-label sonic affectations.
Over time though, my disillusionment slowly eroded, and I found myself reevaluating the album on its merits. Their recently released Christmas album, from which "Please Come Back Home" is taken, scored a few points in my book as well.
7. Sune Rose Wagner--Hvad Der Sker Better known as one half of The Raveonettes, Sune Rose Wagner quietly released his Danish-language solo album Sune Rose Wagner in December. It seems like he's perfectly content to let it fly under the radar, which is shame, because it's really, really good. Coming off like a less kitschy Raveonettes, it wears its influences (50's music, Sonic Youth, The Smiths) on its sleeve. In a year when The Raveonettes released a series of largely forgettable EPs, those looking for a Wagner fix would be wise to seek this out.
8. The Radio Dept.--Freddie and the Trojan Horse At the risk of this turning into one long mea culpa, Radio Dept. were another band that disappointed me with a record, their sophomore effort Pet Grief, but then slowly worked their way back into my good graces. This comeback single certainly didn't hurt. Returning to some of the guitar work that made debut Lesser Matters such a success, but with their fondness for drum machines and The Pet Shop Boys firmly intact, the Radio Dept. gang raised hopes for their third album.
9. The Notwist--Good Lies Although it's true that The Notwist's The Devil, You + Me never captivated me like Neon Golden did, it's still true that this it was a fine record. Here's what I said in my review:
Listeners have waited six years for "The Devil, You + Me", and although it's not entirely clear what took them so long, there are plenty of fine moments on this record. Maybe expectations were simply too high, but what they've basically given us is "Neon Golden 2". Opener "Good Lies" is fantastic, with a circular melody repeating and reinforcing the key lyric: "Let's just imitate the real until we find a better one". Being German, Acker's unusual delivery gives lyrics that might sound cliche coming from a native speaker a decidedly uncanny quality . "Good Lies" also reveals the band's new secret weapon: the acoustic guitar. Whether it's the descending chords in that track, the Teutonic Bossa Nova of "Gloomy Planets", or the space-age blues of "Gone Gone Gone", this post-modern band using the most traditional of instruments results in added warmth and texture.
10. Sigur Ros--Med Sud I Eyrum Sigur Ros are a perennial favorite for me, and this year was no exception. Here's a bit from my review of Med Sud I Eyrum Vid Spilum Endalaust:
Sigur Ros' music was always a distillation of more complicated acts: Radiohead, Godspeed You Black Emperor, The Cocteau Twins, et al. "Hljómalind" and much of Med Sud I Eyrum Vid Spilum Endalaust are a distillation of that distillation. Straight-forward arrangements, pretty melodies, luscious string tones. Nothing jarring. Perfectly pleasant...
Opener and preview track "Gobbledigook" is a bit of a red herring--it's leaden acoustics and dull melody don't really do justice to the rest of the album. Tracks 2 and 4 ("Inni Mer Syngur Vitleysingur" and "Vid Spilum Endalaust") are like the best moments of Takk edited down to four and 3 and a half minutes respectively. Elsewhere on the record, Sigur Ros tread familiar ground. A widescreen epic like "Festival" would not feel out of place on previous records.
So try as I might to disown them for cozying up to the Starbucks/Banana Republic set, I have to admit that I still love Sigur Ros' music. Rumors of a drastic change in sound have been greatly exaggerated; what we're presented with is the essence of the band's music and the continuation of an already impressive winning streak.
Vessels: "Walking Through Walls" Vessels' "Yuki" made my Best of 2007 list for good reason: their immaculate sense of texture and atmosphere was pretty much the only game in town. The same goes for "Walking Through Walls", taken from the band's debut album White Fields and Open Devices. In a transition year for mainstream rock, this sounded like nothing else.
Jamming. Ask any stoner worth his salt, and he'll tell you that if only more bands knew how to jam, how to groove, the music world would be a much more interesting place. The only problem is, jamming is shit. Rock songs written by a group of people tend to meander, looking here and there for a tune until they go into the inevitable fade out. There's a reason why in the entire Rolling Stones back catalog, something like one song is credited to the entire band.
At their best though, The Verve successfully evaded this pitfall. Their early drug-inspired output grooved about as much as four pasty gentlemen from Wigan could ever hope to, be it the ethereal rhythm of "Man Called Sun" or the incendiary guitar attack showcased on the live version of "Gravity Grave".
When the band had one of their many falling-outs, frontman Richard Ashcroft went off to write a solo album. Realizing that he was boring bastard on his own (a realization he would soon repress), he brought the band back in to finish 1997's Urban Hymns. The group put a distinct touch on what would could have easily been boring singer songwriter fare like "Lucky Man" and "The Drugs Don't Work". On the other end of the spectrum, the ferocious "Rolling People", seemingly born out of a group jam, was direct and catchy like so few songs of that nature are. However, being unable to reconcile Ashcroft's ambitions of fame and guitarist Nick McCabe's ambitions of musical purity, the group disbanded (again).
But surely any group that had scaled such heady musical heights could easily do it again? Surely Ashcroft's three solo albums, all of which represented the aural equivalent of a coffee table book, had not dulled the band's potential for brilliance? The verdict is probably not as positive as the band would like. Opening track "Sit and Wonder", to paraphrase Peter Hook, sounds like it was mixed by the drummer's dad. While it's not unlike Ashcroft's successful collaboration with DJ Shadow on 1998's "Lonely Soul", here everything sounds forced. I don't think anybody was sitting waiting for this record thinking, "You know, what indie music needs right now is more trip-hop beats." Likewise, lead-off single "Love is Noise", with its dance affectations and tapestry of Ashcroft vocal samples, might have sounded revolutionary had it been released a decade ago. Richard channels Liam Gallagher in the chorus, and McCabe contributes some fantastic guitar lines throughout, but none of these virtues can quite compensate for the fact that it all seems at odds with what's happening in music today.
There are some good moments here. "Judas" mixes the atmospherics of "A Storm in Heaven" and the disaffected yuppie themes of Ashcroft's solo career. I probably shouldn't like it, but I do. Closer "Appalachian Springs" has the sort of lyrical gambit used by Noel on "The Masterplan": "Took a step to the left, took a step to the right". It the sort of line that feels powerful in the context of the song, even if it probably means nothing.
The rest of the record falls into jam mode ("Noise Epic") or Richard solo mode with lusher instrumentation ("Rather Be"). For the most part, it's perfectly passable and listenable. But that's not the issue. The Verve, even in the more sanguine portions of "Urban Hymns", never played it safe. Forth should have come out in 2000. Instead it's coming out in 2008. And as ideas that might once have been fresh and exciting now fall flat, and the nostalgia for the Britrock era fades away, all we're left with is another once great band lining up shamelessly at the reunion trough.
Quick Thoughts on The Wave Pictures' "Instant Coffee Baby" and Primal Scream's "Beautiful Future"
If you've been following Dead Flowers for any amount of time, you know that I don't do "quirky". So you're going to read about Radiohead, not Vampire Weekend; DJ Shadow, not Girl Talk. The Wave Pictures, a band from London, are about as quirky as you can get. And they're lo-fi boot, another no-no as far as I'm concerned. But I have to tell you, I love this record, quirks and all. Affecting melodies are abundant here, whether it's the single "Just Like a Drummer" or the oddly touching "Red Wine Teeth". There's also an unabashed sense of humor. On "I Love You Like a Madman", in addition to the already ridiculous horn section and extended saxophone outro, the narrator promises to buy his love 'chocolate instead of chutney, good red wine instead of bad red wine'. Amazingly, it works. Highly recommended.
Primal Scream, on the other hand, are about as far away from "quirky" as you can get. It's true they've been a Dead Flowers favorite for some time. But it's also true that like Oasis, they're content to add a few tracks to the inevitable second career-spanning greatest-hits collection rather than put together a complete album. "Beautiful Future" continues that template, for better or worse. So lead-off single "Can't Go Back" is a barn-burning, fist-pumping anthem, and "Beautiful Summer" sounds like a Jefferson Airplane ode to hallucinogenic drugs. There's also the intriguing but ultimately harmless pop of "The Glory of Love" and a exhilarating bonus track, the instrumental "Time of the Assassins". On the other hand, there's a whole lot of filler. "Uptown and "Zombie Man" are both wretched. One wonders why in this day of iTunes the Scream even bother putting together full albums in the first place. I can't answer that, but I do know that your 'Best of Primal Scream' playlist just got a few songs longer.
That great sage of rock, Derek Smalls, once said that writing a rock song is like taking a shit--if it takes longer than 5 minutes, it's no good. Amen to that. There's simply too much poured-over, tempo-corrected, pitch-shifted bullshit out there right now. Ida Maria knows to keep it simple and never forgets to bring some tunes along for the ride.
In order to enjoy this record, you cynical indie fuck, you're going to have to look past the way Ida nonchalantly walks the line between accessible pop punk and Avril Lavigne/Ashley Simpson mall rock. You're also going to have to look past the fact she occasionally crosses that line. Get over it.
Instead, think about the good things here: the way "Queen of the World" sounds like "Vertigo" by The Libertines, or "Stella" rips off an old Motown track, or how "Oh My God" is an absolute classic brimming with barely concealed sexual energy. Ida Maria's got charisma, man, and if you can't handle that, then take your Vampire Weekend and Yeasayer records and fuck off.
"Oh My God" on Jools Holland:
And who knows, maybe it'll all go tits up on the next record. But that's beside the point. Good bands, like beauty, are fleeting. And I'm sure there will be some other sad bunch of indie cunts peering smugly down from their perch atop the Hype Machine popular list to run to when Ida Maria loses the plot. Until then, listen to Fortress Around My Heart and see how it's done.
"I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked" Promo:
Thoughts on Sigur Ros: Med Sud I Eyrum Vid Spilum Endalaust
Just to shatter any sense of impartiality from the outset, I'll say this: I've always been a big supporter of Sigur Ros. I imported their first widely released single "Svefn-G-Englar" from Iceland, and a few months later, did the same with their international debut Ágætis Byrjun. Years later, I gave ( ) a 10 on my first blog. After some initial skepticism, I came to love the textured Takk almost as much, if not more, than their earlier records.
Which made that fall day last year all the more troubling. I went into Starbucks to buy a cup of coffee, the location being a strip mall and the alternatives being Burger King, Popeye's, and that place where they toast subs. While I waited there for my tasteless, over-roasted, hard-working-farmers-of-Ethiopia-cheating blend, a familiar voice came through the overhead speakers. Jonsi. "Hljómalind". In a fucking Starbucks.
Now maybe this is something that every Herbie Hancock, Joni Mitchell, or Paul McCartney fan has gone through, but I doubt it. You see, Sigur Ros were always special. They were always my little secret. But now, the cat was well and truly out of the bag.
Sigur Ros' music was always a distillation of more complicated acts: Radiohead, Godspeed You Black Emperor, The Cocteau Twins, et al. "Hljómalind" and much of Med Sud I Eyrum Vid Spilum Endalaust are a distillation of that distillation. Straight-forward arrangements, pretty melodies, luscious string tones. Nothing jarring. Perfectly pleasant.
But we're not talking about pure indie pandering here. Whereas Coldplay have taken similar source material and triangulated their sound in an almost Clinton-esque manner, Sigur Ros are more Barack Obama: reassuringly progressive, but maybe lacking some desired punch.
Opener and preview track "Gobbledigook" is a bit of a red herring--it's leaden acoustics and dull melody don't really do justice to the rest of the album. Tracks 2 and 4 ("Inni Mer Syngur Vitleysingur" and "Vid Spilum Endalaust") are like the best moments of Takk edited down to four and 3 and a half minutes respectively. Elsewhere on the record, Sigur Ros tread familiar ground. A widescreen epic like "Festival" would not feel out of place on previous records.
So try as I might to disown them for cozying up to the Starbucks/Banana Republic set, I have to admit that I still love Sigur Ros' music. Rumors of a drastic change in sound have been greatly exaggerated; what we're presented with is the essence of the band's music and the continuation of an already impressive winning streak.
By now, most of you have probably heard Sigur Ros' new song "Gobbeldigook". It represents a significant departure for the band, given its acoustic feel and short, direct structure. It's a much-needed departure, too, seeing as how the band's usual output-- easily digestable post rock--reached its logical conclusion on Takk. I've put my thoughts on the song into a column of pros and cons:
Somewhere around 2003-4, I looked at the excellent latest release from Germany's The Notwist ("Neon Golden") and a mind-bendingly good album from Denmark's Mew ("Frengers") and predicted the next rock revolution might come from Central Europe.
As far as brilliant forecasting goes, it ranks up there with my obviously spot-on prediction that Coldplay wouldn't break America because they released "Clocks" as the second single off "A Rush of Blood to the Head": Mew made a disastrous follow-up album full of prog-rock tripe; The Notwist, meanwhile, pretty much disappeared. There was the puzzling collaboration with Themselves, a group of insect-rapping Californians. Notwist frontman Markus Acher released an excellent record with his other group Lali Puna (2004's "Faking the Books"), but that too failed to register outside of hipster circles in New York, LA, and London. Why was the bar so high? You see, with 2002's "Neon Golden", The Notwist rewrote the rules of merging rock with electronic music. After a decade of the music industry telling us the future was sweaty American jerks using drum loops to underpin grunge dirges, The Notwist took tasteful laptop textures and merged them with delicate rock songs in an utterly beguiling way. Acher's voice, reminiscent of Belle and Sebastian's Stuart Murdoch, floated ethereally above a bed of music that sounded like New Order for the 21st century.
Listeners have waited six years for "The Devil, You + Me", and although it's not entirely clear what took them so long, there are plenty of fine moments on this record. Maybe expectations were simply too high, but what they've basically given us is "Neon Golden 2". Opener "Good Lies" is fantastic, with a circular melody repeating and reinforcing the key lyric: "Let's just imitate the real until we find a better one". Being German, Acker's unusual delivery gives lyrics that might sound cliche coming from a native speaker a decidedly uncanny quality . "Good Lies" also reveals the band's new secret weapon: the acoustic guitar. Whether it's the descending chords in that track, the Teutonic Bossa Nova of "Gloomy Planets", or the space-age blues of "Gone Gone Gone", this post-modern band using the most traditional of instruments results in added warmth and texture.
"Where in this World" Promo:
The morbid "Where in this World" seems like an odd choice for a lead-off single; more obvious choices would have been the upbeat "Boneless" or the part-jittery/part-shimmering "Gravity". A June release also seems like a curious move, but maybe that just means people will be rediscovering "The Devil, You + Me" in the fall when the weather becomes more suitable for this kind of thing.
So while one shouldn't expect a new rock revolution from mainland Europe any time soon, with "The Devil, You + Me" The Notwist have continued their quiet insurgency to redefine and recontextualize rock n' roll. This is thoughtful and evocative music that deserves your attention.
In indie rock, there is a perpetual false choice: innovate or write a song that people can actually sing along to. Blame it on The Beatles: while they seemed capable of doing both, bands with lesser talent have since felt compelled to pick sides. Thus from the same record label in the same decade you had a band like Ride, heavy on the innovation but lacking in the memorable tunes department, alongside Oasis, a band forever doomed to share royalties from their greatest hits with songwriters from the 60s and 70s.
There's no mistaking there's something a bit classic about Ida Maria's "Stella". Now perhaps, as astute youtube commentators have pointed out, that's due to its similarity to "Jimmy Mack" by Martha Reeves and the Vandellas. "Stella"'s unabased Motown influences make the song instantly recognizable, and even more impressive than the band's formidable single, "Oh My God". And while it's short on groundbreaking sounds, "Stella" will no doubt dig itself into your subconscious by the second listen. Definitely worth tracking down.
In rock, it's always the same old story. How do a bunch of guys with guitars make songs about girls sound fresh again? It's a task easier said than done, to be sure, and even when bands seem to stumble upon the right formula, it only lasts for an album or two. The latest band to get it right is the Mystery Jets, for in "Twenty One" they have created exactly half of a brilliant album.
For a band with such inauspicious beginnings, half of a brilliant record ain't (pardon the pun) half bad. The Mystery Jets' first UK album was "Making Dens", the bulk of which was repackaged for their first proper American record, "Zootime". Whichever album you consider as their debut, it's pretty slim pickings. Heavy on novelty factors like the guitarist's dad playing in the band and kitchen-sink arrangements, in the bulk of their early material the band come off as the bastard offspring of The Coral and Hot Hot Heat (no, that's not a compliment).
That being said, there were a few reasons to be optimistic about the band's future, such as a mastery of their own quirky sense of rhythm, and the use of exuberant harmonies more focused on capturing a feeling than on hitting all the right notes. Single "Diamonds in the Dark", which made its way onto both "Zootime" and "Making Dens", is absolutely great, with some eccentric lyrics about love gone bad and a tune that Elvis Costello might have crafted in his golden period.
To be sure, on "Twenty One", the Mystery Jets have developed both as songwriters and musicians. The question is whether they're quite done evolving. Lead-off single "Young Love" has all the makings of a classic, an odd jangly little tune that's so simple even a child could sing it: 'One night of love, nothing more nothing less; one night of love left my bed in a mess. Is that you on the bus? Is that you on the train? You wrote your number on my hand and it came off in the rain.' Yes, guest singer Laura Marling's reformed Eliza Doolittle crooning seems a bit overdone, but that's a small complaint. Elsewhere, 80s homage "Two Doors Down" has a chorus that's pure Whitney Houston (pre-Bobby Brown) and a closing sax solo that Huey Lewis would trade his best beige blazer for.
"Flakes", given away as free download at the end of 2007, is "Earth Angel" on acid. It's a genuinely affecting ode to lost love and misspent youth. "Behind the Bunhouse" makes fine use of techniques perfected by The Smiths like arpeggiated guitar and that incessant shuffling beat. There's a distinct indie-disco vibe to "Half In Love with Elizabeth", the album's highlight:
I knew that you were thinking of him last night 'Cos I saw the blood seep down to your toes Turn away if you must But how can you put your trust In a man who always sleeps in his clothes?
But as alluded to in previous paragraphs, the band aren't quite there yet when it comes to putting together a complete album. Opener "Hideaway" repeats all the mistakes of their first record, only with Erol Alkan's dancy production further muddying the waters. Mid-album cut "Hand Me Down" sounds tired, cliche and possibly unfinished."MJ" is an absolutely terrible remake of The Police's "Don't Stand So Close to Me"; it's a wonder that such a dreadful song could exist on the same album as the majestic "Flakes".
The best moments of "Twenty One" will almost surely stand among the best moments of 2008, but this reviewer is only half in love with the Mystery Jets. The less inspiring songs will be quickly consigned to the recycle bin. They almost made a classic album, but didn't quite get there in the end.
Rating: 7 out of 10
Correction 3/22: I've been informed in the comments section that "Half in Love with Elizabeth" was recorded by Stephen Street, not Erol Alkan. The relevant section has been updated. My apologies.
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