Category Archives: Album reviews

Moose Blood – Moving Home EP

bnDeja Entendu by Brand New is likely the defining record of my short 25 years on this planet. That or Infinity Land by Biffy Clyro. Or maybe Spoon’s Girls Can Tell, and of course Ted Leo and The Pharmacist’s Shake The Sheets. But before I wander off into naming my favourite 100 records of all time (something I absolutely want to do now), I want to return to Deja Entendu. Both musically and lyrically, it was unlike anything I had come into contact with before. Melodic hooks, fiercely personal lyrics, it was full of ups and downs. I formed such a connection with it, and it’s a record I come back to so often. It feels so complete, without a wasted moment.  Not for a second would I ever categorise myself as being anything remotely emo, but that was the brush that Deja Entendu was often broadly painted with. Either way, I just love that record.

The odd thing is, I never really branched out from that record and that band into listening to their peers and contemporaries. There’s no simple reason, and no logical explanation – but looking at the similar artists on Spotify for Brand New – Taking Back Sunday, Dashboard Confessional, Finch, Thrice – I couldn’t name any of their tracks. OK, Manchester Orchestra are the exception to that rule, and of course I’m a huge fanboy of every other record that Brand New have made, both before and after Deja Entendu.

mbSo I’m excited to have stumbled across Canterbury’s own Moose Blood, and their debut EP, Moving Back Home (Fist In The Air / Day By Day Records). It certainly channels that Brand New spirit, but there’s way more to them than just that.First up, they know that lyrics are just one part of the jigsaw, shown by an instrumental track called ‘My Own Boat’ that opens the EP. This, along with the fact they like to eschew traditional songs structures here and there by reaching a chorus and stripping out vocals again, like on ‘Carbis Bay’. And on ‘Drive’, we don’t even get a chorus as the track just cruises along for just over two minutes.

Thematically the EP covers interesting and varied ground: love (plenty), god (a Brand New favourite), coffee, Dashboard Confessional (one of those peers I haven’t given a chance), and cultural influences, such as High Fidelity and Bukowski (my favourite author by a country mile right now). They also play the trick that Brand New would often reserve for the odd chorus here and there – that of two vocals harmonising, with one tracking along a fair bit higher, but Moose Blood do this almost all the time.

And then besides all the deeper meaning that we could spend forever analysing, they just sound good. Nothing overly complex or unique, but guitars, bass and drums working together like they should. The final track ‘Bukowski’ is probably my favourite as the drums snap and bite during the verse to spike the guitars lying over the top.

It’s an arresting debut record that I’ve been playing over and over for a while now, and it makes me excited to hear more. If not only for the reason that a Google search will turn up more results for the band instead of images of moose carcasses.  Have a listen to Bukowski below, and you can buy the EP for £1.99 on their Bandcamp page.

Ra Ra Riot – Beta Love

rarariot300x300Ra Ra Riot is a band well versed in change. Their front man left within a year of the band’s formation, the original drummer died in 2007 from circumstances that are still being investigated, and after 2011’s critically acclaimed 2nd LP The Orchard, cellist Alexandra Lawn announced that she would be leaving the band. This makes Ra Ra Riot sound a lot more Spinal Tap than chamber pop, but with their 3rd LP, Beta Love (Barsuk Records), a change in sound is the big talking point.

Gone are the preppy and charming arrangements of previous records, with the delicate and neatly arranged interplay between classic rock instruments and the cello and violin. However, the change in sound isn’t due to as simple a reason as a formation change. The record is said to have been inspired by the works of cyberpunk novelist William Gibson and futurist Ray Kurzweil. In Kurzweil’s book The Singularity Is Near, he describes his law of accelerating returns which predicts an exponential increase in technologies. He says this will lead to a technological singularity in the year 2045, a point where progress is so rapid it outstrips humans’ ability to comprehend it. Beta Love sounds like a record that has arrived in a time machine from 2045, complete with Back To The Future II clothing and an air of rambunctiousness. Unfortunately, as with the aforementioned near-miss of a sequel, it doesn’t exactly hit the spot.

Out with the old and in with the synths, the record is heavy with the syrupy end of the instrument’s scale. On tracks like ‘Binary Mind’ and ‘Beta Love’, it works. ‘Binary Mind’ bursts with electro handclap beats and a hooky chorus that sticks in your mind like chewing gum on your shoes. ‘Beta Love’ ratchets up the sugar levels by 100% of one’s RDA, but with the strings of the violin being a little more prevalent than on other tracks, they help cut through the verses acerbically. Lyrically we’re wired back to the futuristic theme with references to prototypes and robot hearts, but it gets a little lost at times in the frothing of noise surrounding it.

The high key of the chorus in ‘Beta Love’ is an indication of what’s to come. Initially it’s enjoyable, but as the record continues, so much of it takes place at this heightened level and becomes a little jarring. On ‘Angel Please’, there’s a key change in the final lyric of the bridge before each chorus that becomes an awkward moment on repeated listens, causing an involuntary clench before its arrival. ‘That Much’ is exciting for the return of non-electro drumbeats, but eventually descends into feeding guitar lines through the inside of a 56k dial-up internet connection, leaving them sounding pixelated and scattered, and all together a bit more 1996 than 2045.

‘Is It Too Much’ shows an enjoyably lighter touch with the employment of a gentle industrial fuzz buzzing through the chorus. As vocalist Wes Miles lilts: “I know I never had much to say,” and speaks of “so little motion here,” this slowdown in speed is a welcome breather from the franticness of what surrounds it. As a whole, the record is a challenge to swallow in one sitting, but offers up enjoyable moments.

We Are The Physics – Your Friend, The Atom

Is there such a thing as Robot Rock? Some would argue that Daft Punk gave it a go. I mean, they actually had a song called Robot Rock. Plus they dress up like robots, and made a soundtrack to Tron, a pretty damn robotty film. Well, sci-fi at least. There’s a point here somewhere, buried under the rusty metal of this clunky metaphor. Sci-fi / robot rockers We Are The Physics have unleashed a jerky, thundering, end-of-level-baddy of an album, ‘Your Friend, The Atom’. It’s both a barrage of fun and a mindblowingly exhausting listen.

It’s the second album from a band who aren’t afraid of poking fun at themselves, and others. With songs focusing on topics such as legendary tennis player Goran Ivanisevic, junkies eating buns and 1960s space exploration, they explain that they’d never choose to write a love song, as there’s 60 years of them already if you want to sift through. The ode to the 6ft+ Croatian madman is one of the standout moments on the record, showcasing what We Are The Physics do best, with a high-pitched looping 8-bit synth being overtaken by thundering riffs, gang vocals and a homage paid to his unflagging belief (he tried/he failed/he failed/he tried). Let’s face it, a song about Tim Henman would probably make you want to pull out your eye balls and serve them with a tennis racket. But this is just plain fun.

The lyrics are one of the strongpoints throughout. On ‘All My Friends Are JPEGS’ lead singer  Michael M neatly dissects the ridiculousness of social media, with an anti-anthemic chorus line of “I don’t like you much/so let’s keep in touch.” Buried amongst the barrage of noise surrounding it is the occasional sneaky melody that matches up and hacksaws its way into your brain. The main challenge is filtering through everything else that is happening.

‘Napoleon Loves Josephine’ is a more of a cruisey jam, but still hops and jives around energetically. It’s a moment that is reminiscent of the nervy angular rock of The Young Knives. The album is 14 tracks long and rarely slows down from a lactic-acid inducing sprint. It’s a challenge to properly digest it all in one sitting, and while a more condensed and lean record may have made it easier to love, there’s enough here to enjoy.

 

 

Tall Ships – Everything Touching

Finally, it’s here. The LP that we’ve been waiting so long for. The LP that promises to kick the Tall Ships Youth Trust off the top spot in a Google search for “Tall Ships”, those philanthropic sons-of-guns.

But there’s been no rush for this three-piece who produce angular, loop riddled epic soundscapes. A couple of EPs have teased us in previous years, but they in themselves hint to what Tall Ships know is the most important and precious commodity when it comes to their music. Time. There hasn’t been a hurry, either logistically in creating this record, and also within their music. The three-piece met at an Art College in Falmouth, and perhaps this can explain their expertise at using the concept of white space in their music to its full potential. A lyric from  one of their single b-sides, ‘Safe as Houses’ encapsulates their attitude to song structure effortlessly: “You use your words like bricks, your pauses like mortar.” And these guys are the Grand Designs of music making.

Kicking off the show is ‘T=0’, the first single to be taken from the album. It acts as the perfect front door to the record. Instantly, the drums crash and shudder while guitar loops layer and interweave. Everything subsides a little in the nucleus of the track, as Ric Phethean explains: “Time won’t wait for anyone.”  One swift wave of lyrics later and the noise picks up again. There’s not a loose bassline or drum beat to be found anywhere. It’s reminiscent of when the Mystery Jets were capable of  similarly brilliant organised chaos, with Zoo Time pulling off the same show stopping effect.

The theme of time also runs through ‘Books’, an EP track that’s been  built upon. It sounds sharper and tighter, something that can be attributed to the track having time to mature and age since its inception. It trips into a little dancey-synth number initially before the chord is cut and in the slow-down, Phethean sings: “Time is precious, and time will forget us.” The concept of time shines clearly through much of the record, but more interestingly it often slips into the realm of life and death, and it is this theme that really feels like the true undercurrent of the album.

‘Ode to Ancestors’ is another track lifted off an earlier EP, but on Everything Touching, it’s the lynchpin track. It’s the nucleus around which everything else orbits. The original version felt like it hurried towards its own end, but here it’s a patient, beautifully crafted moment of clarity. The slower opening gives the lyrics extra weight, meaning and cadence. It also instills a feeling of wonderment on ourselves as a species over the unlikely combination of chance that each and every one of us has won our own evolutionary race. As the track prepares to fire itself out of a cannon and erupt into a fitting finale, the lyric “A million year masterpiece” just dangles like a strand of DNA before the  storm. It feels like it encapsulates the Tall Ships story. Plenty of these tracks have existed for a while, but with time, they’ve been able to grow into something altogether more perfect and life-affirming.

The album ends with ‘Murmurations’, described by the band as “The most Tall-Ships song we’ve ever done.” Nine minutes long, and taking about two-thirds of that time to really erupt, it’s a brave statement that continues to show the band aren’t afraid of pitching things a little left-field. It trickles along initially, slowly building, and gradually sails into a stormy finale.  Part of what makes this band so fantastic is their wonderful DIY aesthetic. Here it includes having a chorus of 30 friends and family sing their hearts out on this track. It’s an euphoric ending to a complete record that feels deeply personal, life-affirming and altogether life-changing.

The Cast Of Cheers – Family

The Cast Of Cheers ‘sort-of’ (i.e. on a label for the first time) debut album comes out today. This is old ground on Horses Playing Harps, but it’s still a great story. An album they recorded a couple of years ago in a few days > available on the bandcamp website for free > shitloads of downloads > signed up sharpish. So it’s difficult to know what to call Family by The Cast of Cheers. From listening to it this week, it’s clear we should be referring to it as their second album, because it’s a gentle evolution of sound from Chariot, the aforementioned free album.

It’s still spiky, sharp and melodic math-rock in places, but it’s all reigned in a little bit more than on the previous album, and this is a sound that works for them. Whereas Chariot was quite prickly and jagged, Family feels like it has had more time to rest and mature, with slow-burning poppish elements seeping into the sound, making this album feel like a real keeper.

It feels like they have tamed a tiger. Sure, its claws are filed down, but it’s still capable of giving you a decent brawl, and therefore all a little bit more lovable because of it. Opening track ‘Family’ is a loopy and fretful template for The Cast Of Cheers sound, before the softer and more thoughtful ‘Posé Mit’ shows off their musical prowess with a calmer catchyness displayed.

‘Goose’ is the perfect case-in-point. It’s the only track to make the journey from Chariot to Family, but it feels and sounds like it has had time to settle and gestate, with everything sounding more polished and primed. As it descends into the franticness of the bridge, the yelpy verses feel as if they are counterbalanced more expertly with the jagged guitar riffs. While the raw energy of Chariot was admirable, this well-rounded approach feels fuller and more rewarding.

They show some nice other touches and flourishes across the album. On ‘Marso Sava’, electro beats are employed to create a glorious afrobeat skittishness as the track floats along. The vocals flicker between low asides and high pitch chants of “Marco Sava!” The Cast Of Cheers – Family

Family feels like the complete package. If you come to this band as a new listener, it’s simple enough. It’s polished, it’s catchy-as-hell and it’s a lot of fun. More fun than fighting a wild tiger anyway. But hey, if you want to do that too, make sure you check out Chariot too.

 

Dirty Projectors – Swing Lo Magellan

Looks can be deceiving. I recently reviewed an album for another site which was simply called ‘☤’ (by Run, Walk!). I’m really not a fan of pretentious outside-of-the-box band names/track names/album titles, although the album itself ended winning me over. So I guess it serves as a lesson not to judge something by its cover.

On that note, hey! There’s a new Dirty Projectors album out! Or at least, it will be soon. The album is called Swing Lo Magellan and is currently streaming over on the Guardian website. For those unaware of their previous M.O. (apologies, I started watching Band of Brothers again), they make spiraling indie-pop that  regularly shifts gear and wanders off in interesting directions.

So after a minute of the opening track ‘Offspring Are Blank’, I was enjoying an R&B jacked ditty. But suddenly, out of nowhere comes this ferocious guitar lick, like a hot rock knife slicing through that R&B butter. This ferocious dichotomy continues on unabashed for the remainder of the track, showing that we should never get too set in our ways, or to become too expectant of what is to come. Especially on a Dirty Projectors record.

Here’s some ‘Offspring Are Blank’ Youtube goodness for you.

Gaz Coombes Presents… – Here Come The Bombs

Despite what the weatherman may tell you, this is a glorious time of year. There’s always a great plethora of albums released in the April/May/June window, ideally pitched so that an artist/group can run into festival season on the back of new material. It’s similar to the gloriousness of October/November for gig-going as everyone and their nan seem to have nothing better to do than tour their socks off.

It’s been hard to keep up recently with all the great releases, and harder still to find time to write anything. But we must start somewhere, and this is the record that has stuck out most for me in this barrage of new music. First off, let me get my Gaz Coombes cards on the table. His former band, Supergrass, are one of Oxford’s greatest bands. In fact, Gaz et al grew up in Wheatley, an Oxfordshire village where I spent plenty of my formative years. Gaz was often spotted around the village, and I’m pretty sure his brother may have once worked at Oxford Welcome Break’s KFC (where I also worked). Either that, or Gaz was moonlighting due to his untold love of Kentucky Fried Chicken and wanted easy access. There’s something acutely inspirational about having such talented, creative people living in the same obscure geographical location, so I’ve always been proud to reference this point.

Supergrass parted ways after six albums, and Here Come The Bombs is the debut solo album from Gaz Coombes, formerly the lead vocalist and guitarist of Supergrass. The biggest question on approaching the first listen of the album was just how different from the Supergrass sound would it be. The answer is, it’s very much its own beast, and this is a glorious thing.

‘Hot Fruit’ could easily nestle into the Supergrass back catalogue without too much fuss, with its energetic, hook-laden nature; but an electro edge plays around in the back of the track, giving a taste of something that is expanded upon further on.

Tracks like ‘Whore’ and ‘Sub Divider’ expand upon this thought. Guitars still play an important role, particularly in the closing of the tracks, but the journey to this point is often aided and abetted by the sound of keys and percussion.

Coombes has been creating great pop and rock songs for 20+ years, so it’s no surprise to find that the album just grows as it progresses. A track like ‘Simulator’ has such a simple song structure, but Coombes knows how to make it work. It chugs along in the verses, before erupting in the chorus’ with everything combining together. Coombes voice has always been something to admire, it magnificently binds together everything else surrounding it.

Here Come The Bombs is littered with subtle variety that makes it such an addictive listen which is why I seem to find myself continually coming back to it. Towards the end of the record, ‘Break The Silence’ is Coombes attempt at a euphoric sing along moment: “Break the silence/come on/let it go.” It’s not the most beautiful set of lyrics written down, but it just sounds fantastic. Thus rendering the point of all of what I’ve just written pretty pointless, lest to say, this album is well worth 40 minutes of your time. Or some of your hard-earned cash. And the live show should be pretty tasty too. Roll on October/November.

Here’s a little taste of the album – ‘Break The Silence’

Richard Hawley – Standing At the Sky’s Edge

Richard Hawley’s 6th studio album came out yesterday, and admittedly I’m late to the party. Not to hearing this album, 24 hours is fashionably late, and besides, it was a bank holiday. What I’m late to is Richard flipping Hawley. Six albums in, and he’s just crossed my radar. People like to think that I have a breadth of musical knowledge and taste, but there are some serious gaping holes to be found.

I’ve heard the name before. As Arctic Monkeys won the Mercury prize way back when for their debut album, their first comment on receiving the award was “Phone 999, Richard Hawley’s been robbed.” Hawley was a fellow nominee, and a fellow Tyke (/Sheffieldian). Hawley and the Monkeys have made music together since then; in fact Hawley has had many fingers in many delicious pies over the years. He’s worked with the likes of Pulp, Elbow, he even played the guitar lick in the All Saints cover of ‘Under the Bridge’. I’ve always secretly loved that song, and now I have a valid reason to proclaim my love for it out loud.

I read a review of the new album last week, and it sounded phenomenal. I’m listening to it for the first time right now, and it is phenomenal. Fuzzy prog-rock full of atmosphere, character and charm. Hawley seems particularly apt at slowly building up something thundorous and explosive, but knows how to keep everything on a leash so it never reaches a proggy Mars Volta level of insaneness (here’s a link to one track/16+ minutes of MV insanity, but I love them all the more so for it). Just the perfect amount.

So here’s a little teaser of Richard Hawley. This is the first track I heard, and I don’t really want to describe it. I just want you to listen to it. Slap on some big headphones. Don’t do anything else for six minutes. Just enjoy it.

Poliça – Give You the Ghost

The internet. Maaan. It’s great. What did we do before pre-release album streams? It’s like how I imagine whoever invented toothbrushes felt. No more brushing our teeth with rocks! I don’t know my toothbrush history too well, just consider me a troglodyte. Enough rambling.

What did we do before listening to the Poliça album on a pre-release stream for 4 days straight? Fuck knows. But it’s here, so lets celebrate our time on earth together.

Much has been said about this album already, by the likes of Jay-Z (he likes it more than toothbrushes) and Justin Vernon. It’s pitched in some madcap Bermuda traingle zenn  diagram between R&B – Autotune – Electo – Bass music. It’s one of those (plentiful) times when words don’t can’t do it justice, so check out the album stream here (until Monday) or listen to one of many of the standout tracks from the album below.

This could be a big year for…..Bwani Junction

Ahhhh, Bwani Junction. Supposedly, tomorrow (the 3rd Monday of January) is officially known as the most depressing day of the year. To help lift the prospect of that gloomy possibilty, this horse has just gone and bought Bwani Junction’s excellent 2011 debut album, ‘Fully Cocked’. After using up most of the monthly-10 hour Spotify limit gorging on their beautifully crafted, sunshine-filled songs, there was no other choice but to properly posess it. Drawing comparisons is a bit of a challenge too.

Being Scottish, you’d love to be able to spot some Scottish based musical-geographic reference points, but it’s the lightness of being and warmth in their sound that means you have to search further ashore than that. The afrobeat sounds can lead you to Cape Cod and Vampire Weekend (as much as the band may not be too keen on the reference),  the political sharpness of a track like ‘Today’s Crusade’ sends you to to New York and Ted Leo.. But pidgeon holes are for pidgeons, and these boys are no flying rats. They are more like Fulvous Whistling Ducks (stay with it), in that they are native to warmer climes, have a cool name (a take on the John Masters book Bhowani Junction) and are noisy birds with a clear whistling kee-wee-ooo call (wasn’t that worth it?).

On a purely sonic basis, they just sound absolutely spot on. Any band that doesn’t make the listener strain to have to hear the bass guitar get a big thumbs up, especially when the base is as key as it is here. The guitars fret around merrily, the drummer has a set of bongos on his kit (judging from the aformentioned live clip). Lead singer and guitarist Rory Fairweather has an enjoyable vocal sound, retaining the Scottish accent but still melding in with the Afro-Caribbean sounds. That doesn’t sound like something that should work, but with this band, it just does.

They first crossed this horses radar from footage of the BBC Introducing Stage at last year’s T in the Park Festival. The music they make is so infectious, it’s reminscent of Two Door Cinema Club. At least, you could easily see their paths following suit. TDCC chucked out their debut on Kitsuné without making much of a big splash, but that catchyness and brilliance meant that gradually, the whole world picked up on them. So with Bwani Junction’s debut album, ‘Fully Cocked’ being snuck out at the back end of 2011, it could easily grow and get bigger and bigger as the year goes on. Hopefully a few festival slots will help that along too.

But for the time being, for those too lazy to push anymore buttons, here’s my favourite track from the album, ‘Roots Too Deep’.