Bruce Springsteen - High Hopes

High Hopes is the sixteenth album from the Bruce Springsteen, tidying up songs written over the course of the last decade or so alongside a couple of covers and a re-recording of his Steinbeck-inspired anthem for the common man, ‘Ghost of Tom Joad’

Several of these tracks were recorded during a break on the Wrecking Ball tour with ex-Rage Against the Machine guitarist Tom Morello and though on the surface purveyors of widescreen American rock and ferocious rap-metal have little in common, both Springsteen and Morello share a sense of empathy with the downtrodden and a debt to the works of both Pete Seeger and Bob Dylan that makes their collaborations less unlikely than they may initially appear. Unfortunately whilst perhaps shaking Bruce out of his roots-rock comfort zone is an admirable goal, many of Morello’s worse impulses are allowed to run unchecked. On the seven minute revisit of ‘Ghost of Tom Joad’ – explosively covered by Rage on their patchy covers album Renegades - he smothers the track in wah-wah sounds, guitar pyrotechnics and his famous axe-as-turntable screeches but ends up with a lesser result than the stripped back original.

Springsteen has never been afraid to sing songs about the little man even now that he’s a very big man indeed but conceptually the grab-bag nature of the tracks undermines any sense of High Hopes as a cohesive album. For aficionados a studio release for ‘American Skin (41 Shots)’ – originally written about the killing of Amadou Diallo by New York policemen and revisited in the wake of the death of Florida teenager Trayvon Martin. – offers compelling testimony that Bruce has had a much better 2000s than he had a nineties but bar a pair of classic modern-era Springsteen cuts High Hopes flounders under the weight of curious celtic drum flourishes and predictable songcraft.

‘This is the Sword’ and ‘Hunter of Invisible Game’ are as stuffy and lifeless as their titles suggest, whilst the plodding ‘Harry’s Place’ suggests that although Springsteen can churn out widescreen mid-tempo rock in his sleep Harry’s place may actually be in the retirement home.

Fortunately, the sax ecstasy of ‘Just like Fire Would’ and ‘Frankie Fell in Love’s wailing Steve Earle guitar swing the pendulum back in favour of the more uplifting end of his output; tales of burning love with just enough hints of darkness to navigate a descent into hokey cheese but when you stop to think what High Hopes tell us about Bruce Springsteen, about America and about rock music, you realise that this is more of a stop-gap affair than a burning romance.

4



Max Sefton

Drenge - Drenge

More than five years since Jack and Meg White went their separate ways, their disciples are more numerous than ever – Alabama Shakes, Deep Vally and now Drenge. Though physically Drenge bare more of a resemblance to The Vaccines or Palma Violets, its Jack White they turn to when the time comes to cut loose, delivering filthy crunching riffs and yowling solos with little regard for prevailing trends or technical mastery.


They’ve been a surprise success story too, landing well inside the top ten at a time when much hyped acts like Savages limped to number 36.


Great early singles like ‘Dogmeat’ and the superlative ‘Bloodsports’ are included here alongside the more puerile ‘People in Love make me feel Yuck’. For some that title alone will be enough to having them moving onto more civilised things but the real charm of Drenge comes in their unpretentious buzzsaw energy, never harnessed better than in their ferocious live show. Like Pulled Apart By Horses or Future of the Left it’s difficult to capture their particular quirky energy on record but producer Ross Orton delivers some of his best work and for thirty-seven minutes the duo fizz and spark appealingly. It runs out of steam slightly towards the end with the lumbering ‘Let’s Pretend’ and the lightweight ‘Bye Bye Bao Bao’ but they manage one last blowout on the Libertines-esque ‘Fuckabout’.


In a recent interview Drenge may have remarked that they were “not totally overjoyed” by Labour MP Tom Watson’s stamp of approval. No worries, they’ll be making plenty more fans very soon.


7

Max Sefton

Pond - Hobo Rocket

Before the plaudits had even finished rolling in for Tame Impala’s acclaimed Lonerism, Nick Allbrook was announcing his intention to quit the Western Australian rockers in order to focus on Hobo Rocket, the new album from Tame Impala’s sister act, the experimental collective Pond.
So what has Allbrook learnt during his time touring the world? Mostly that it’s pretty fucked up, but whilst conspiracy theories and crackpot messiahs abound here Hobo Rocket also comes across as the most focused Pond album to date.

As you would expect from a record from one of the leading lights of Australia’s burgeoning psych scene this latest effort is a mishmash of chopped up tape loops, Cream’s heavy riffs, and the early psychedelia of Skip Spence or Syd Barrett but whilst, for example, their second album Corridors of Blissterday was cut live with an eight piece band in just five days here Pond make do with a mere five members and an increasing interest in songcraft over sound effects.

After the slightly directionless MGMT meets The Black Keys opener ‘Whatever Happened to the Million Head Collide?’, the first real killer ‘Xanman’ rolls into town like every Paul McCartney-Beatles track played at once; its fried groove and proto hard-rock strut pitching Pond once more as a band out of time.

Elsewhere ‘Midnight Mass’ rumbles like Black Sabbath with Allbrook delivering keening vocals before giving way to a horror movie style mid-section and a final epic guitar flame-out. Where once the Aussie rockers made music to explore the universe inside their heads, now it seems as if they’re only too aware of the dark places this can lead you. If this is music to take drugs to then there’s no guarantees of a good time.
‘O Dharma’ nods to the baroque pop-classicism of Love’s Forever Changes or The Beatles’ Sgt Pepper but compared to the Crosby Stills Nash-esque harmonies of 2010 breakthrough Beard Wives Denim, Pond have actually shifted closer to the heavy and dense sound inhabited by Tame Impala. Even lead single ‘Giant Tortoise’ shimmers with reverb and heavy guitar breaks, leaving it up to the disturbing hobo rant of the title track to supply the album’s quota of true weirdness and it is this which hints at Pond’s greatest weakness: for all their talk of cosmic exploration they’re not covering a lot of new ground.

Endlessly restless Allbrook has already hinted at a forthcoming companion album Man It Feels Like Space Again, which would lean close to their jam band roots but if phasers, flower power and forty minutes of fried psych-rock is your thing Hobo Rocket is a great place to start. Just don’t expect anything you haven’t heard before.

6

Max Sefton

Gogol Bordello - Pura Vida Conspiracy

Despite the presence of legendary guru/facial fuzz fanatic Rick Rubin in the producer’s chair, the last outing from the rambunctious gypsy-punks, 2010’s Trans-Continental Hustle, felt rather stale. The songs themselves have always been the least essential element in the chaotic crucible that makes up Gogol Bordello but after a hectic few years that saw the group furiously touring the world and frontman Eugene Hutz starring in one of Madonna’s vanity film projects, for once the nine-piece felt short on ideas.
Never shrinking violets, the group seem to have recognised this themselves and thus Pura Vida Conspiracy opens with a track entitled ‘We Rise Again’ which re-establishes their roots-radical agenda in ragged and energetic fashion. Ironically whilst Rubin has not returned on production duties, it’s his right-hand man and assistant on albums by the likes of Red Hot Chili Peppers, Andrew Sheps who takes the controls. Given the unenviable task of capturing the dynamism and energy of the chaotic group, Sheps proves a much better fit for the band than his old employer ever did, polishing their sound where necessary but allowing their fiery spirit to shine through.

Hutz has touted Pura Vida Conspiracy as being about the “pure joy of being who you are” and there’s certainly a sense of ecstasy at work as the rag-tag band (note – it’s compulsory that every journalist must describe them thusly) push themselves to a new degree of intensity. ‘Gypsy Auto Pilot’ and ‘John the Conqueror’ have a real fire as he sings of his life on the road and his quest to “unite a single world consciousness”.

Like fellow international party starters The Hives, the best introduction to Gogol Bordello remains their sweaty, wine-drenched, all-inclusive live experience but if ragged folk-punk workouts float your boat Pura Vida Conspiracy is as good a place to start as any other. Six albums in Gogol Bordello are still living the good life.

7

Max Sefton

Jay Z - Magna Carta Holy Grail

"I'm not a businessman. I'm a business, man."

That's right kids. Shawn Carter, entrepreneur, the one-hundred-million dollar man, owner of a chain of bars, a sports team, a clothing label, soundtrack producer on The Great Gatsby, impregnator of the not-so-single-lady Mrs Beyonce Knowles, has taken some time out of his busy schedule of making money to do some art for you. This is because he's an artist. But not an artist with much spare time.

Mr. Jay Zed had to come up with a plan to become an artist in the smallest amount of time possible, so as not to interfere with his business affairs. To do this, he got a blender and jam-packed it full of anything vaguely considerable as culture: Italian sculpture, Middle Age English legends, a few painters, conspiracy theories, and - as not to sound too out of touch with the youth of today - some Nirvana karaoke and a few brand names.

What came out was 'Magna Carta... Holy Grail', an album named as though to sound like a satire on pseudo-intellectualism, complete with ellipses to make it sound like he literally came up with it off the top of his head, giving the title of the album the same feel as most of the songs on it. This may sound mean, perhaps duly so, but the main feeling garnered from this album was of pure incredulity. Let's look at the context of release:

Before it was even whored out to Samsung and became a bestseller on the day of it's release (A sure sign of artistic quality, if you wanted one) there was tension in the Roc-a-fella ranks. Written at the same time as Jay-Z's and Kanye West's collaborative LP Watch The Throne, West was there to hear much of the material on MCHG before anyone else. And boy was he pissed off. In fact, the bromance between the two was broken for days, because Jay didn't let West put the material on Watch the Throne. To some this may make the material just sound even better, but it smarts of an attitude towards music that sounds more like it's a commodity than an art-form. 

A year or two later on the release, Mr. Carter sure is happy he held onto it - to put it lightly, MCHG has barely been released and has made him a lot of money.This may be a valid point to begin criticism of the actual music on the album, but that'd be missing the point entirely: this isn't music. To get an idea of this, try listening to the album on Spotify, and see if you can spot where the advertisements start and stop.

It's 2013. Tupac is dead. Dr Dre is hawking headphones on a street corner in Hackney, and 50 Cent is being arrested for beating his wife. Kanye West recently admitted that he is a 'proud non-reader' - and, for a sense of context, this was on the occasion of the release of his own book. You might remember, on his most notable track 99 Problems, Jay-Z telling you all he's not dumb. He clarifies his lack of stupidity on MCHG, and you know what? He's right. 

What Jay-Z has been trying to tell us all along is that he isn't the dumb one - the people who are still buying his albums are. In Tom Ford, track three on the album, he raps 'Numbers don't lie / Check the scoreboard'. Jay-Z may be old, but he's still in the game - a game of numbers. If you believe in his artistry, go ahead: it's your turn to Insert Coins.

4

Lewis Shaw

Ryuichi Sakamoto - Three

Like his home country of Japan, Ryuichi Sakamoto can be categorised completely objectively under one word: pioneering. He's an old man now, but whilst many might associate age with being stuck in the past or unable to change, Sakamoto has led his career on exactly opposite principles. Born in 1952, he's lived a life that's found it's own chronological parallels in music. As a young boy learning piano, he became fascinated by Debussy. As a teenager, he found himself listening to The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, and later on - much to the disapproval of his classical teachers - electronic pioneers like Kraftwerk.

For each of these musical influences, there was at least one album. Leading a career on the fringes of the mainstream, he kept his artistic integrity with experimental electronic albums being made alongside his work on film scores and other grand orchestral callings, from award-winning films such as 'The Last Emperor' (Bertolucci, 1987) to pieces for the 1992 Barcelona Olympics.

However, whilst Sakamoto has proved to work within every bound of music possible, whether that be rock, ethnic, electronic or classical, he does so by no means in any particularly chronological order. Like any creative genius, he works on his own terms, doing what he wants when he sees fit, and of recent - as though in a sudden ironic fit of retrogression - this has seen a focus on acoustic arrangements. Enter stage left his latest release: 'Three'. 

Whilst returning to acoustic work after such a wide variety of genres may seem at first to be backwards, this is only partly true. The idea behind the album is indeed of doing things backwards - but in an entirely new way. Whilst touring with a trio around New York, Sakamoto played his older, more well known pieces alongside his newer creations. It was around this point that he realised that the done thing is to write an album and then tour it - despite the fact that the music matures on tour. In order to help the music adapt and change into it's best form, Sakamoto decided to record the album after the tour, as opposed to before: "Music that was made a hundred years ago could be played again today and it would change - it breathes."

The album is itself beautiful. Whilst many of Sakamoto's previous releases would focus on one theme or work at a time, Three manages to be ranging across this whilst remaining a step above a 'Best Of' album. His cherry-picked best works are placed along his fresh work, but as opposed to dusting off the old recordings or remastering them, they are re-imagined entirely, and change dramatically in the process. 'Tango' - originally an upbeat salsa tune, is stripped of it's drums and vocals for the trio, and becomes a much more atmospheric theme one might play if you found yourself in possession of a satin boudoir and a fluffy white cat.

Just a glance at the cover gives an idea of the album itself - sleek and minimalist, like the finely tuned portfolio you can imagine Sakamoto handing to anyone who hadn't heard his work. Portfolio is a word which does not do it justice, but gives one an idea: Three is an album you would want to have on your coffee table, a complete and beautifully crafted idea - a satisfying takeaway box of Ryuichi Sakamoto.

8

Luciano Shaw

Empire Of The Sun - Ice On The Dune

When Empire of the Sun first burst onto the scene a couple of years ago it was hard to know what to make of the Australian duo. Despite being named after JG Ballard’s traumatic account of his time as a child during the Japanese occupation of Shanghai, Luke Steele from dopey, indie posse The Sleepy Jackson and his comrade in kitsch Nick Littlemore’s catchy fusion of eighties pop and summery anthems made them a surprise success story, going double platinum back home and cracked the top twenty over here whilst producing two massive hits in the form of ‘Walking on a Dream’ and ‘We are the People’.

Once again kitted out like Elton John role-playing Final Fantasy, their goal is still to provide the soundtrack to your summer but whereas their debut balanced the duo’s theatrical stylings against economical pop smarts, Ice on the Dune collapses under the weight of slick, shiny but soulless electro-pop. In the last three years pop music has moved away from Lady Gaga’s eighties revival and into the suffocating grasp of EDM and in pursuit of a smash successor to their radical debut Empire of the Sun have decided that they want a piece of the pie.

The sickeningly gaudy curtain raiser ‘Lux’ is as clear a manifesto as you could need: dense, shiny production, four to the floor beats and synthesised strings dominate on a record that plays like the worst wedding disco mix.

There are still hints at great ideas buried beneath the surface: the Michael Jackson meets Royksopp stomp of ‘Awakening’ and sing-along single ‘Alive’ stand out, but even the more experimental tracks like ‘Concert Pitch’, a slightly warped banger that sounds like MGMT cutting it up on the dancefloor, tend to be smothered in a glossy sheen of hairspray and production gloss. Closer ‘Keep A Watch’ seeks the drama of Berlin period Bowie but has to settle for one of the Scissor Sisters more insipid ballads whilst ‘Old Flavours’ and ‘Celebrate’ are straight up pop club bangers with distant echoing vocals.

For a duo prone to indulging their penchant for raiding the dressing up box there’s little wit or humour to Ice on the Dune. It aspires so transparently to reach a large audience yet sacrifices any reason for that audience to engage with the material in anything other than a superficial fashion and in the process strips Empire of the Sun of the humour, wit and wide-eyed wonder that made them a success in the first place. The majesty of a mighty empire makes those that look upon it tremble but it’s much easier to root for a rebel.

3


Max Sefton

Tom Odell - Long Way Down

Tom Odell materialised from the unknown last year following the release of ‘Songs From Another Love’, following the standard Jools Holland milestone and reiteration of Elton John, Dylan, Bowie and Buckley as his influences. It painted a scenic and hopeful horizon for the British singer-songwriter. Odell showcased his potential with the earworm ‘Another Love’ which would surface in European chart. It condenses the album’s theme of relationship catastrophe as its bittersweet but ultimately wet base for existence- “I wanna cry I wanna love/ But all my tears have been used up on another love”. This river of tears has washed it into the main stream of familiar love ballads.

It’s not hard to draw parallels between Odell and his work. Odell is polite and inoffensive with a nice, clean boy look, but with strong enthusiasm. This clearly resonates throughout the album more so than his perfect-cadence structured piano playing along with his soft voice. When Odell claimed the Critic’s Choice award before his album was even released, it hinted something unique but the hype is pretty short lived. Odell is yet to fill shoes far bigger than his age and maturity allow him. Long Way Down does have melodic skill but the record still has something to prove his capacity beyond pining over heartbreak and naïve romance issues- “Grow old with me / / oh the best it could be”.

However it’s unfair not to praise some aspects- ‘Can’t Pretend’ and ‘Sense’ are the deserving force behind the anticipation- maybe this is what Long Way Down was intended for. He hits the spot with a sultry chord progression that expresses real desire and struggle, but he conveys futility in a coming-of-age feel very appropriate for him: “I’ve been feeling pretty small /Sometimes I feel like I’m slipping down walls”-yes he probably is. Odell previously expressed his intentions for the album as ‘to feel human, flawed… express heightened feeling we all get”. He certainly got the flawed part right but let’s not be too hasty to deem it the worst- there is time for things to develop.

5

Anna Wiley

Gold Panda - Half Of Where You Live

Three years after 2010’s Lucky Shiner, and in particular its lo-fi centrepiece ‘Quitter’s Raga’, made him a Pitchfork fave, the British-born and German-based producer returns with his second album. As befits a musician whose greatest asset has always been his slightly uncomfortable sense of wanderlust, Half of Where You Live is a record about homes; or more specifically about the thought processes of someone who finds themselves on the edge of something, never quite able to put down roots.
In retrospect February’s excellent Trust EP serves as a primer for the Half of Where You Live’s stylistic diversity, see-sawing as it does between minimal, spacious techno sounds and glitchy space-bass. In recent interviews he admitted that originally he started making tracks for the record on Ableton but disappointed in the clinical nature of the resulting material he eventually returned to his old samplers – ‘S950’ is named after one such – to craft a record which explores and exploits the quirks and imperfections of his bank of samples.

From a technical standpoint Half of Where You Live is a beatsmith’s masterpiece; built upon a haze of diaphanous melodies and minimal beats. For an album that is almost entirely instrumental there’s a remarkable sense of being take on a journey. He’s spoken before about how touring Lucky Shiner allowed him access to the great cities of the world and it’s clear that his experiences travelling directly inform this record, flitting between the claustrophobic ‘Brazil’ and the homely ‘An English House’.

More importantly however Half of Where You Live also contains many of his strongest melodies to date, such as ‘Flinton’ which sees a curious Flying Lotus-esque sample chopped and twisted until it feels as if you’re being dragged down into watery depths or ‘The Most Liveable City’, which opens with a field recording of birds tweeting and could easily be read as Gold Panda’s ode to his childhood growing up in Peckham, where he grew up. Flickering along on skittering percussion and gentle celestial beats it bring to mind a more personal take on Burial’s enigmatic Untrue.

Perhaps Half of Where You Live doesn’t challenge the listener in the same way that the at times abrasive Lucky Shiner did but nonetheless it’s an immersive and engaging listen that sees Gold Panda expand his sonic palette whilst retaining the spark that made him special in the first place. For a glass half empty kind of a guy he’s got plenty to be proud of.

7.5

Max Sefton

Vampire Weekend - Modern Vampires Of The City

Vampire Weekend have done it again. With ‘Modern Vampires Of The City’ they have created a beautiful, infectious and strange record. And ‘record’ seems the right word. It is the last chapter in a trilogy, a record of the lives of characters first visited on their self-titled debut in 2008. It is a chapter sound tracked by tracks laden with hooks, peppered with infectious rhythms and more measured harmonies and melodies. Singer Ezra Koenig’s voice is also shown off to a greater extent on this record than any other. And it really does sound effortless. 

As usual, their lyrical focus is intellectual and sometimes downright obscure to the average listener, especially on first listen. But that is the joy with Vampire Weekend; their music can be understood- or not- and enjoyed on many levels: the harmonies, the hooks and the strange percussion or the classics influenced, religious referencing and historical allusion heavy lyrics. And there’s plenty of both. There are the typical flashes of Vampire Weekend lyrical brilliance, like the fantastic ‘stale conversation deserves but a breadknife’ on the stately, harpsichord heavy ‘Step’. There are also moments of lyrical universality, for example on ‘Unbelievers’, ‘the world is a cold, cold place to be/ want a little warmth but who’s gonna save a little warmth for me?’ 

This album, though still having that quintessential Vampire Weekend sound, is definitely stranger than those preceding it, most notably thanks to the prominence of chopped, screwed and auto tuned vocals throughout. One of the teaser tracks for the album, ‘Diane Young’, a hyperactive stomp which is just plain addictive, uses this technique, as does the beautifully weird ‘Ya Hey’, with particularly manipulated vocals. (They will stick in your head for days and they are almost impossible to replicate out loud). Another new touch is the use of spoken monologues during the songs; ’Ya Hey’ and a particularly beautiful example of forbidden falafel shop love in ‘Finger Back’. And it works: it’s these touches which move the record on from the previous ones, while fitting the band’s signature commitment to intelligent, strange, slightly wonky pop music. 

In true Vampire Weekend tradition, the album is a mix of fast and furious tracks and slower, more leisurely ones. ‘Hannah Hunt’ and ‘Don’t Lie’ are examples of the latter, ‘Hannah Hunt’ being particularly beautiful. The piano-lead ‘Young Lion’ is also a slower number and at under 2 minutes, is a perfect, simple close the album. ‘Hudson’ is probably the strangest song on the record, a slightly menacing tale accompanied by broken up military tattoo drums. The verses of ‘Worship You’ shows Ezra spitting lyrics at a properly impressive speed, and follows on nicely from songs like ‘California English’ on the previous record. 

‘Modern Vampires Of The City’ really is a triumph. It is as infectiously strange as it is beautiful and it surely is a contender for album of the year (yes, already!) 

9

Holly Read-Challen

MS MR - Second Hand Rupture

Gloom-pop, glitch-pop, dark wave; riding a wave of emoticons, reblogs and fickle, LOL hungry teens, the New York duo of Lizzy Plapinger and Max Hershenow deliver their debut album.

Owing a debt both to Blondie’s sleek new-wave and the present generation of synth-pop assisted divas, it effectively pre-empts Florence Welch’s next move by throwing big-lunged choruses over syncopated rhythms and glossy synths. With beats that wouldn't seem out of place on a Calvin Harris record it seems as if every ingredient is present for ‘Secondhand Rapture’ to be a big success. Yet despite Plapinger’s Tumblr friendly hair colour and the duo’s dark-wave pretenses  the choruses are as sugary and predictable as they come and there’s no sense of illicit thrills that the very best electronic music can offer; the razorblade in the cotton candy or the bittersweet pill that makes the highs all the more vivid.

At least Florence’s faux-pagan theatrics and private school upbringing were offset by interviews in which it became apparent that the wide-eyed kook in Victorian attire was not some carefully thought out marketing gimmick and she genuinely did live her life as if she were Kate Bush in the Wuthering Heights video. In contrast, by surfing in on a wave of net zeitgeist MS MR are left re-packaging the tropes that made them a trending topic in the hope of making an album that holds together for more than forty minutes. In some ways ‘Secondhand Rapture’ is an unfortunate choice of title because rather than conjuring up the air of mystique that MS MR evidently strive for, it actually highlights their most prominent weakness: we've heard this before.

All four tracks from last year’s Candy Bar Creep Show EP are included here; the product of a record company wanting to capitalise on their online buzz in an era of low attention spans, but the problem is that the duo just haven’t generated enough top quality material. For this reason it will probably be judged a disappointment that ‘Bones’ failed to become a smash hit despite appearing in a trailer for Game of Thrones but both ‘Bones’ and the earlier single ‘Hurricane’ are still the two best moments here. The former’s macabre refrain and enormous piano motif contrast nicely with the clattering percussion of the latter whilst both push Plapinger’s soulful vocals to the front and centre.

They’re not inventors or innovators but they’re competent scavengers with a 21st century grasp of presence and presentation. Ultimately however MS MR make music that when matched to the right visuals or dropped on an undemanding dance floor delivers a brief spark but tends to leave the soul alone.

5Max Sefton

Little Boots - Nocturnes

Little Boots is not one of a kind, she is one of a kin, a group of chic young musicians showing it is possible to break away from the cliché of the pop wave girlgroups, and still deliver songs which light up a dance floor between your ears. 

Her premier release in 2009, Hands, was met with moderate success due to the rise of kinswoman Lady Gaga, La Roux and Ellie Goulding. With her new album Nocturnes, Little Boots delves into the more recent archives of 90's synth pop dance hybrids rather than the 70's disco tinges of her first album. It creates a soundscape immediately familiar to the audience. At times it sounds like Kylie Minogue at her best, and that is served up as a compliment. It's what is needed or expected in order to meet the genre and her perfect pop vocal rides high. 

Opening track 'Motorway' is a beautiful segue, a welcome mat of a track. The piano intro is reminiscent of Miike Snow, and the dropping out of the bulk of the instrumentation to highlight the lyrics about the pining of a need to escape with the one you love is blissful. Similarly 'Confusion' has the slow electro clap of a thousand 90's floor fillers. It's a Ministry Of Sound track. 

The cool thing about Nocturnes is that it doesn't sound like a straight album, some of the tweaks and drops are akin to the remixes found as B-sides on CD singles, in a time when Woolworths had a purpose. It gives an edge. It's impossible to imagine Little Boots performing synchronised moves in a midst of writhing backing dancers or having elaborate costume changes or set pieces. The songs and their messages and style speak for themselves, she's a serious artist who doesn't need the bells and whistles to be the head of discussion. 'Shake' begins with the Madonna's Erotica form of sensuality through hushed, compressed issues of the title before giving out to the GarageBand preset warbling bass part which is the modern day equivalent of the 80's synth we all mock so readily now. By the time the chorus; "Everybody shake, until your heart breaks" begins, all is forgiven. It's another example of how to work the genre and an album perfectly. This is followed by 'Beat Beat' which is so close to Can't Get You Out Of My Head you can almost hear the court case. 
Closer 'Satellites' is the sumptuous end required. Her husky vocals in the opening verse call you in before the chorus jumps about with the bouncing synth spots on either side like being overtaken. What Little Boots has managed to achieve is an absolute feat. In a world where there are far too many artists trying to do the same thing, she has dared to tuck into the pocket of 90's house and pulled out gold. 

Nocturnes should be one of the pop albums of the year. It's refreshing in its immediate references and bold in content and delivery. It's not an album to sit on a commute with, it is a top down sunset drive album. Lets pray the sun is around for us to race towards it.

7

Paul Schiernecker 

Iggy And The Stooges - Ready To Die

Iggy Pop has become something of an easy target in recent years. His ventures, both featuring on Ke$ha's latest album and his stint as an insurance salesman left a stale taste in the mouth akin to the morning after a night at CBGB's. It should be remembered however that Iggy Pop is a performer, a lava lamp of a man clad in very little, diving on glass, vomiting behind amp stacks and walking on the hands of his audience. That's the Iggy this review will focus on, there will be no talk of 'raisin-faced warbling' or 'dinosaur rock', this is a review of another album by a very important band. 

As good as they are, The Stooges are often forced into the back seat of their own vehicle by putting Jimmy Osterburg Jr up front. As a fan since I heard the opening riff of Search & Destroy it is something of a treat to review their latest work. 

Ready To Die represents the second comeback album for The Stooges, and the first since the departure of guitarist Ron Asheton for the great gig in the sky, and it is a pinball machine pull back and release nod to everything that has come before and since. They seem to have constructed an album which will be safe in the legacy of the band. There's no risk, it sounds how a Stooges album should sound forty years on. There are moments of acoustic clarity mixed into the throttle and groan of what could become live favourites. Opening track 'Burn' drops like an Acme safe, and features the potent combination of fuzzy riffs and Iggy's signature croon. This is brilliantly followed by 'Sex And Money', a saxophone heavy blues number courtesy of Steve Mackay, which has a near Stones faculty to it. It's good to see Iggy's priority on song titles hasn't changed. The backing female adds something to the expected wall of sound The Stooges build, it's another aspect, another string to the bow but still sounds like they did on Fun House. 'Job' represents the final piece in the trilogy which opens the album before it changes tact. "I got a job, I got a job, I got a job but it don't pay shit" Iggy sings, leaving the listener wondering which of his enterprises the lyrics refer to. 

'Gun' sounds as though it could have been written by or for Lou Reed, there's a sustain to the chorus vocal which could have come straight from Transformer, but the solo it gives out to is straight Stooges. 'Unfriendly World' represents the first of three acoustic tracks on the album, something the band are not known for pulling off. It sounds a little Tom Waits but in a complimentary way. This is twinned with the last two tracks; 'Beat That Guy' and 'The Departed'.
 
Ready To Die hasn't pulled out all of the tricks at this halfway point though. The title track and 'Dd's' are an absolute treat. It could be assumed the latter was about erstwhile punk pal Dee Dee Ramone, but the chorus of "I'm on my knees for those double D's" reveals the true intentions. It's a tad self indulgent and a little Spinal Tap but if Iggy & The Stooges don't craft these songs, who will?

Ultimately, Ready To Die is a triumph. It recalls the glory days, doesn't dwell on them but shows why so many artists around today owe them so much. The Stooges are a band who deserve to be respected, not just for daring to make the albums they did, but for continuing to do so, and carrying it through with such aplomb.

8

Paul Schiernecker

Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Mosquito

Despite the much-discussed and really pretty terrifying artwork, the lasting impression of ‘Mosquito’ is actually a subdued, introspective album, which is perhaps surprising given the loud, bombastic nature of some of the songs on it. Opener ‘Sacrilege’, the first song to be released from the album, is a sexy, ballsy track, with a hugely catchy hook and a gospel choir. A proper YYYs anthem. Then there’s ‘Area 52’ which is a Stooges-influenced tribute to space, and aliens, and that kind of thing. ‘I wanna be an alien’ snarls Karen O over fuzzy guitars. ‘Mosquito’ is another loud one, with the screamed hook ‘They’ll suck your blood!’
Despite these tracks, the album still feels a little understated. This doesn’t mean the other songs lack interest, in fact, it may be that the (for want of a better word) quieter songs are the ones that stand out the most due to their beauty, with touching lyrics and O’s tender vocals. ‘Subway’ is a beautiful song, a sad tale of lost love crooned over a sample of a rattling subway car. ‘Always’ is a synth drenched delight, again quieter than one might expect from this album, based on its opener.

The slow build-up and almost New Order feel of ‘Despair’, a strangely uplifting ode to, well, despair, make it a definite highlight of the album. This is mirrored by the brooding build-up of the closing track, ‘Wedding Song’, with its moody bass and echoing piano. The guitar on ‘Wedding Song ’are strangely reminiscent of Noah and The Whale’s ‘The First Days of Spring’ and the mood of the track seems, at first to mirror the mood of that album. However the lyrics tell a different tale of devotion and never-ending love. It’s a pretty beautiful track to end the album with.

‘These Paths’ is another more chilled song, with almost house inspired elements. This is another impression of the album, a band experimenting with different sounds. The experimentations, although subtle, are present with the aforementioned ‘These Paths’ dabbling with house inspiration. Or the dub-reggae influence ‘Under The Earth’, with its reverberating vocals. ‘Buried Alive’ is also bit of a surprise, with James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem producing and ‘Dr. Octagon’ aka Kool Keith providing a rap. It’s a pleasant surprise though, with Karen O’s drawled vocals and a guitar riff from Nick Zinner that can’t seem to remind me of anything other than The Smith’s ‘What She Said’.

With ‘Mosquito’, Karen O proves once again that she has one of the best voices in the whole of rock. Thanks to her obvious passion, she can go from tender to powerful to screeching with amazing agility and always, always sound amazing. Yeah Yeah Yeahs are finally back with a record which might not instantly grab you (other than ‘Sacrilege’, how can a huge gospel choir not grab you?!), but after a few listens, it may start to grow on you. And so it should, it’s fantastic.

8

Holly Read-Challen

Phoenix - Bankrupt!

For those smart enough to have jumped on the Phoenix bandwagon already Bankrupt! has been a long time coming. It represents the fifth album for the band, and their first release in four years. For those fans concerned about the prospect of a more experimental offering emerging from the flames of Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix you can feel safe in the knowledge the Versailles four-piece haven’t swayed too far from the beaten track.

Starting out with Entertainment which sounds like the child of Turning Japanese by The Vapors and True Love (For Now) by Spector, the album was entirely worth the wait, and exceeds expectation. Each track is pure and definite. S.O.S. In Bel Air shapes the vibe of the album. While there appears to be a lot more focus on electronica and synth there is still the influence of lead guitar pinning most of the tracks down. Lyrically it also sets the tone for further tracks like Bourgeois and Oblique City.

Trying To Be Cool is one of their most obvious and poppy tracks to date. It has an almost Motown rhythm and bass line, covered in a fuzz of 80’s synth. Title track Bankrupt! deserves the exclamation mark and sits as a good central point for the album, the Love Like A Sunset of the new record.

Drakkar Noir is crafted to dance to, it has the catchiest of choruses and the phaser guitar up against the brilliance of the keys. It should carry across as a firm favourite at festival season, given as Phoenix are already confirmed for Coachella and Rock am Ring. It closes with a distorted ice cream van like tone which leads into the next track Chloroform.

Closing track Oblique City is a highlight which is a hard thing to achieve on an album so good. It features a brilliant flow lyrically and the undercurrent of piano taps make you wish it could keep on going. The closing Eagles-like guitar picking is a touch of genius and a beautiful way to fade out.

There is every chance this could be the album which pushes Phoenix out to more ears than ever before and in doing so may mean they are lost forever to those who have held the secret so close to their chests for so long. Only time will tell.

8

Paul Schiernecker

March 2013: Albums Summary

Better late than never (8th April, sorry!), here's our monthly summary of albums.

Check out what March had to offer:

Reviewed

Suuns - Images Du Futur (8/10)

The Cave Singers - Naomi (7/10)

Shout Out Louds - Optica (8/10)

The 1975 - Music For Cars (6/10)

Low - The Invisible Way (8/10)

Laura Mvula - Sing To The Moon (5/10)

Suede - Bloodsports (8/10)

Deathfix - Deathfix (7/10)

Nai Harvest - Whatever (8/10)
The Strokes - Comedown Machine (6/10)
Kavinsky - Outrun (8/10)
Wavves - Afraid Of Heights (5/10)
Phosphorescent - Muchacho (8/10)

Album of the month 

Daughter - If You Leave (8.5/10)

"Daughter have gone from creating music focused on pain, to creating music that encapsulates pain and acts as medicine. Some may call it depressing, I’d argue they’ve not listened hard enough." Braden Fletcher 

The Rest

Justin Timberlake - The 20/20 Experience (8/10)

What was pencilled in as a return to form, quickly escalated to discussion of a reinvention of the pop album. Although the 20/20 experience is certainly an 'experience', a revelation it isn't. Timberlake's most ambitious effort to date just falls short of iconic, with most songs pressuring the 9 minute mark, it's hard to fault Justin for the concept behind the music showcased and the drive to create something as culturally resonant as his previous two records. Exquisitely crafted pop gems permeate and delight throughout (even if most of them last 2 or 3 minutes too long) with Timberlake's trademark tongue in cheek lyricisms not extending too far from the expected (sex, love, a rather naive foray into drug metaphors on Pusher Love Girl so aloof it's largely hilarious.) Timberland's production is on point with the tried and tested beat-box style instrumentals only sounding a tad dated, and the strength of the choruses Timberlake delivers on the likes of Don't Hold The Wall and Mirrors are amongst the most memorable of his career. Not ground-breaking, but a lot of fun and a refreshing revival of a male pop-star who isn't completely loathsome and punchable. Toby McCarron

Peace - In Love (7/10)

When Peace first broke through with their glorious EP last year; it was already apparent to many that to keep up a level of quality across a full length record would be a feat in itself. Not phased with this level of pressure, the Birmingham group released Wraith and featured the hugely infectious Lovesick on the record. Whilst at times you feel like the album lacks in the cutting edge (ie. Waste of Paint through to Sugarstone), the re-workings of Follow Baby and album closer California Daze more than make up for it. Definitely one to catch this summer, if you can fit in the tent. Braden Fletcher

Chvrches - Recover (7/10)

If you were to write a brief history of Chvrches it would probably run something like this: Glaswegian indie band members decide they’re sick of selling three records to guys with beards and decide to do something shamelessly commercial. Actually, this summary is slightly unfair - vocalist Lauren Mayberry was keyboardist and co-vocalist in Blue Sky Archives, whilst Martin Doherty was a live member of miserable post-punks The Twilight Sad - but it’s true that as musical projects go Chvrches have attracted a hell of a lot more attention than these past ventures ever did for their shiny but slightly fussy electro-pop.

Channelling early eighties new wave group OMD lead single ‘Recover’ is a huge sounding tune, led by pulsating synths and Mayberry’s elfin vocals which bring to mind Emily Haines of Metric. Even if it doesn’t quite match up to the excellent ‘The Mother We Share’ single that the trio released last year it’s an electro pop anthem in the mould of Passion Pit’s ‘Sleepyhead’. If anything it’s actually improved by the remix courtesy of Cid Rim that closes this four-track EP when, unshackled from the need to appeal to both rock and dance crowds, some of Chvrches’ restraint is stripped away and it’s transformed into a full on dance floor workout.

Martin Doherty takes centre stage for the first time on ‘ZVVL’, a relatively lightweight track redeemed by its startling lyrics, ‘a flash of blood’, that draw your gaze away from the discotheque and down some darker pathways. Though their USP is bounding, keyboard-led pop, darker strains of electronic music both old (Depeche Mode) and new (The Knife) have played their role in shaping Chvrches so it’s interesting to see the trio explore some murkier corners. ‘There is so much I want to tell you’ croons Lauren on ‘Now is Not the Time’. For Chvrches the world is listening with open ears. Max Sefton

Bastille - Bad Blood (6/10)

When a pop act breaks through with the dedication that Bastille have, you have to admire it. The likes of Flaws push through to the almost anthemic sounds of Pompeii and its from this point onwards that you have to give appreciation to a a record that; whilst half full of tracks that will never light up the world will most definitely be part of most people’s summers. It may be cheesy and in parts it may not be the most musically adept; it also lacks in complete consistency but it’s the border of indie and pop that Dan Smith crosses that makes Bad Blood an enjoyable listen if one that won’t make it past the Autumn. Braden Fletcher

Wavves - Afraid Of Heights

Two years on from his third record ‘King of the Beach’, ‘Afraid of Heights’ finds Wavves’ Nathan Williams adjusting himself to life after chillwave, the short-lived music scene for which he and his girlfriend, Bethany Cosentino of Best Coast briefly became a sort-of lo-fi Sid and Nancy.
Unlike Bethany and Bob Bruno’s own sophomore record, he seems to have realised that singing about being stoned all the time quickly goes past its sell-by-date, whilst the presence of John Hill (MIA, Santigold) behind the mixing desk appears to be sign that Wavves are shooting for a wider audience here than on previous outings. Hill’s impact is immediately tangible on the bright and crunchy guitar sound of ‘That’s On Me’ and ‘Sail to the Sun’ which rock the same emo power-pop vibe as Weezer or Brand New but too often Williams is guilty of backsliding into territory he’s covered better before.

The main barrier to a more mature audience though is Williams himself: self-pitying song titles like ‘Beat Me Up’ and ‘Everything is My Fault’ indicate a songwriter who struggles to leave teenage angst behind, yet lacks the wit to eloquently deconstruct the situations in which he finds himself. Rivers Cuomo has many flaws but he’s always been good at finding a universal metaphor for his inner turmoil; Williams seems content to blame others or stew in his own juices.

With ‘Afraid of Heights’ he’s bought into a calculated aesthetic - an album that sounds like it’s being played on shit speakers even when it’s not and one on which latching onto a particular phrase and repeating it over and over is enough to elicit memories of endless summer days. Unfortunately when the phrase is ‘I Don’t Know’ you’re not even sure what Williams is rebelling against. ‘Whaddya got?’ snarled Marlon Brando; Williams is more likely to shrug and spark up another joint. That’s a shame because for a committed stoner he has a way with peppy, energetic tunes that cut straight to the chorus in a Ramones-hit-the-beach manner - ‘Demon to Lean On’ sounds like Nirvana might have done if Kurt Cobain had fully embraced his bubblegum side, whilst ‘Mystic’s fuzzy vocal and handclap percussion would sit perfectly happily on ‘King of the Beach’.Four albums in, Wavves may be the voice of a stoned and drifting young America but they’ve never found a voice of their own.

5

Max Sefton

The Flaming Lips - The Terror

There are very few bands who can handle the trip in the way Flaming Lips can. They don’t seem to have ever come back in fact. The Terror represents the thirteenth studio release for the band and it is just as heavy-lidded and encapsulating as anything they have released before. If anything the album is too ambient, it isn’t until the fourth track on the album that any kind of fathomable tune is identified. Up until then it feels like a lull before the big drop into the album. That song is You Lust. For a nine track album that’s a pretty wild gesture to make, even by Flaming Lips standard. The problem is the overworking of reverberation. Each track sounds as though it is being heard while dangling from a helicopter.

The Terror is a notable step away from the joyous celebration of their recent releases. Frontman Wayne Coyne has stated it is a much bleaker album, which may explain the absence of an obvious single. He described it as concerning the fear the world continues without the idea of love. The title track follows You Lust and springs a wide range of electronica. If possible The Flaming Lips have made a more experimental album than what they appeared to be settling into, an impressive feat for a band celebrating their thirtieth anniversary.

You Are Alone ambles like a nightmare Pink Floyd may have had. There is a clear feeling on desolation on the album and it’s a hard thing to break through and enjoy in any capacity when entirely sober. Butterfly (How Long It Takes To Die) is a similarly bleak track, almost attempting to be dance in places, but being pegged down by a change in stark chords.Turning Violent almost has a repeatable lyric to its chorus but beyond that is another blunt soundscape. While everything on the album sounds rich and complex, it isn’t easy listening by any degree, but when have The Flaming Lips ever been easy to listen to. It takes a certain person and a certain state of mind to enjoy. I’m sure they will be present and correct when it comes to festival season and when it comes to their sensational stage props and hi-jynx the new songs won’t fail to disappoint but as a purely aural experience it falls slightly short of the high tide mark they previously hit.

6

Paul Schiernecker 

Phosphorescent - Muchacho

The first thing you notice about Matthew Houck’s sixth album is it’s sense of warmth; the smell of grass drifting across a field of prairie, a backyard barbecue or kicking back in a bar with a few fellow travellers. The scent wafts out and you’re inevitably drawn in. Band of Horses have led the charge in making beardy southern dudes emoting both popular and commercially viable but Houck strays away from the bar-room anthemics in favour of a more intimate, delicate approach to songcraft.

Yet within this carefully established framework, ‘Muchacho’ finds Houck branching out from previous Phosphorescent releases, subtly playing with gentle synth figures on opening invocation ‘Sun Arise!’ or quirky saxophone on the wartime requiem ‘Down to Go’. Lead single ‘Song for Zula’ has the potential to be his breakthrough moment, with an earnest but insistent melody that inadvertently nods its cowboy hat to U2’s ‘With or Without You’.

Your enjoyment of much of ‘Muchacho’ may depend on how you respond to Houck’s rasping vocals, which fall somewhere between Conor Oberst and Tom Waits but tracks like ‘A Charm / A Blade’ demonstrate a gift for turning these quirks to his advantage, casting him as a prairie-roaming, one-man Fleet Foxes.

As usual Houck’s fine lyrics are steeped in biblical allusion and some of his arrangements stylistically predate the birth of rock n’ roll but if you’re prepared to tackle a beautiful, contemplative record that undoubtedly takes several listens to unfold then ‘Muchacho’ might well be one of your albums of the year.

8

Max Sefton

Daughter - If You Leave

It seems to have been quite a long time since Elena Tonra first delicately touched our ears and hearts with the His Young Heart EP and the Wild Youth EP. It’s hard to think that it’s been 18 months since the latter was released. This is surprising for two reasons; the first being that the EPs sound as familiar to this writer as the first records he remembers hearing. Second is that they still sound as fresh as the opening track of Daughter’s debut record If You Leave, Winter.

With indie-titans 4AD releasing it and recorded in an array of spaces before being mastered at Abbey Roads, If You Leave is as well crafted as it is cared for and produced. The lead single Smother is painstakingly beautiful and demonstrates first hand the work that’s gone into this record for almost a year. The reworked version of Youth leaves negative amounts to be desired as its swell fills the listener with a series of emotions that are somehow both delicate and powerful whilst following it with newest single Still reminds you of how Tonra’s lyrics can cut straight to the core. 

At times you just have to take a moment to exhale during If You Leave. As personal as it is to the band, it’s in some ways relateable even if it didn’t have lyrics. As tomorrow kicks in half way through, Daughter unleash the rich tapestry they’re truly capable of; adding and taking away the muscle of their sound with total control and on Human, you see the breadth of music they’re capable of making as the beating backline of the track could be somewhere between Sigur Ros’ Med Sud I Eyrum Vid Spilum Endalaust and Bombay Bicycle Club.
The overall sound of the record creates an inescapable atmosphere; conflicted, ambivalent, painful in a good way. In some ways, pain is the one thing that keeps us human so to feel something that doesn’t so much perpetuate but alleviate pain whilst tapping into the deepest emotions you posses  that’s something to revel in. Whilst there’s an eleven minute Shallows at the end of the record that leaves a heck of a lot to be desired of a closing track of its length, If You Leave proves that Daughter have gone from creating music focused on pain, to creating music that encapsulates pain and acts as medicine. Some may call it depressing, I’d argue they’ve not listened hard enough.

8.5

Braden Fletcher