to die by your side

I just threw my blues away

2009-11-21T09:00:00.001Z

Today, it’s exactly 15 years since I first heard the debut album by dEUS.

Now, you may be wondering how I can be so precise on the timing, so I’ll explain.

‘Worst Case Scenario’ was one of the CD shaped presents I ripped the wrapping off on my 17th birthday. Today is 15 years since my 17th birthday. Hence it’s also 15 years since I heard that record. All of which is my completely unsubtle way of saying that today is my birthday. Hurrah for me. There is however an ulterior motive for me telling you this beyond the shameless attention seeking mention of my birthday.

On the 4th of December, dEUS will re-issue the album in a deluxe edition with an extra CD of of B-sides, unreleased live tracks and demos, as well as a DVD with a documentary and various live performances. If you’ve never heard of dEUS or this record, I can’t recommend it highly enough. It finds the band at their most experimental and is almost impossible to pigeonhole. The press tended to term them as ‘Beefheartian’ due to their penchant for genre melding weirdness in the manner of the Captain. Alt rock sits alongside jazz which mixes into prog and folk, the band skewing familiar song structures into whatever shape and form they want them to take. All of which might make it sound a tad po-faced and a bit of a hard listen. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. ‘Worst Case Scenario’ is brimming with great songs, catchy hooks and skewed pop. 15 years on, it remains one of my favourite records.

All of which makes for a pretty damn good excuse to post these two session tracks recorded all the way back in 1994 when they were first promoting it. First up is an immense 7 minute version of ‘Hotellounge’, one of my favourite tracks off the record. Beginning with a simple 3 note guitar line that repeats throughout, it builds and grows into a song of contrasting textures. Light and dark. A calm bookshelving the storm. Guitars alternate between chiming and exploding, a violin wails around the edges, drums move from a light jazzy beat to crashing cacophony. The whole thing coming together as a brooding beast of a track. Alongside that, is ‘My Wife Jan’, an early session version of a track that was eventually released as a b-side to the ‘Little Arithmetics’ single. A frenetic, unhinged track that sees the band flitting between tempos and indulging in an all out alt-rock assault.

dEUS - hotellounge (live session version) original version available on 'Worst Case Scenario'

dEUS - my wife jan (live session version)

mp3 / music / dEUS

Lapping lakes like leary loons

2009-11-15T10:03:00.000Z

I'm feeling lazy today.

So I thought I'd just use this post to answer the question that Sheena left in the comments of my last post.

She wondered what the second album that defined 2008 for me was. Well the answer shouldn't come as a surprise to, well, anyone really. Not only did I gush about it pretty frequently on here but Bon Iver's 'For Emma, Forever Ago' came near the top of almost every end of year list. I won't write much more because I can't imagine there are many people who haven't heard it and fallen instantly in love with it and frankly I've nothing fresh to add to it. Other than to say that well over a year after it's release, it is still a record that continues to stun and surprise me with it's emotional beauty and delicate power. So here's a couple of tracks for you. One from that record, one cover and one from the sister EP that followed a little later.

Bon Iver - flume (live acoustic session version) original version available on 'For Emma, Forever Ago'

Bon Iver - the park (Feist cover live acoustic session version) original version available on 'The Reminder'

Bon Iver - blood bank (live acoustic session version) original version available on 'Blood Bank'

mp3 / music / bon iver

Dip a toe in the ocean

2009-11-13T09:00:00.000Z

The problem with an album you absolutely adore, is that the band in question has to follow it up.

Which probably sounds like a stupid statement to make.

Obviously they have to follow it up. The problem isn't the logistics involved in following for the band, it's the fear of disappointment that comes with it for you. When a record connects with you so vividly, so fundamentally, so viscerally on every emotional and sensory level, what comes next can't help but be a let down. A record that really says something about your life is a wonderful but rare thing. It's about more than just the music and lyrics on the record. It's about a moment in time. A connection. A perfect synching of what's happening on record with what's happening in your life. It may not be the band's most successful record nor their most critically acclaimed but it's the one that really matters to you. The one that takes over your life and your listening habits. Records that affecting don't come along all that often and the chances of that same band striking gold again and releasing another record that connects with you in such a personal way is near impossible. Chances are the band has almost certainly reached their peak for you and you'll therefore see the rest of their career as either an attempt to recapture that magic or desperately running scared from it. This is the situation I face with Frightened Rabbit.

In 2008, 'The Midnight Organ Fight' came out of nowhere and completely blew me away. It became one of two records that defined that year for me. An emotionally fraught, musically perfect album of broken hearts, fumbled relationships and raw reflection. Anthemic without ever being overblown or manipulative or emotionally empty. Throughout 2008 and on into this year, it has remained a constant source of pleasure and solace, rarely leaving my iPod playlist and soundtracking at least some part of almost every day. The problem is that they now have to follow it up.

The first signs are mixed. Released as a single on Monday, 'Swim Until You Can't See Land' picks up where the previous record left off. So much so that it almost like an off cut from the record. Certainly there's no mistaking the work of the band. The chiming guitars. The shuffling percussion. The instantly familiar voice of Scott Hutchison that manages to be both vulnerable and stoic. Some subtle string work bolsters the melody showing some development in musical scope and the subject matter is certainly more positive than on the last record. Where 'The Midnight Organ Fight' focused on things ending and falling apart, this song offers a more affirmative outlook. One of escaping something or someone and the hope and freedom that it can bring. As a preview to the new record it is both promising and worrying. Don't get me wrong, it shows that the band haven't lost their knack for a great tune and it grows on me with every listen, but I can't shake my initial reaction that it was a little too Frightened Rabbit by numbers.

It is of course too early to tell. One single does not a whole album make. Like many lead singles, it may well prove to be a bridging song. Something to lead us from a familiar path into new territory. Only time will tell. My fingers are crossed and I hope to be proved wrong. I certainly don't wish to dismiss a record before it's even been released. The problem really lies with me. I'm aware that my expectations are already too high and that's never a good place to start from. No matter how good the record may or may not be, I doubt it will have the same emotional impact and personal connection that I felt with 'The Midnight Organ Fight'.

Frightened Rabbit - swim until you can't see land (live acoustic session version) original studio version available to buy here

mp3 / music / frightened rabbit

Never ever whisper when it's time to shout

2009-11-10T12:00:00.001Z

When I reviewed the last Seasick Steve album, I said it worked best ‘when Seasick Steve is left to his own devices’.

It appears I might not have been the only one who felt that way.

On his fourth record Steve has gone back to basics. Where ‘I Started Out With Nothing’ suffered from an overloaded cast of, well, several, his latest takes quite the opposite tack. ‘Man From Another Time’ strips away the extra personnel, reducing his music back to the bare bones of his voice, guitars and ever trusty drummer Dan. As decisions go, it’s fair to say this hobo has hopped onto the right train. Where the guest appearances seemed slightly forced, out of place and kind of unnecessary, ‘Man From Another Time’ finds Steve sounding far more comfortable in the simplicity of his sound.

That however is probably the only difference between this record and well, any of his others. Chances are, if you haven’t bought into Seasick Steve by now, ‘Man From Another Time’ isn’t going to change your mind. There’s no wild reinvention in sound. His lyrics don’t particularly cover any new ground. And if you see the amiable hobo shtick as nothing more than a corny marketing trick, well, it’s probably best you don’t bother reading any further. But if you’ve fallen under the spell of his previous records or his live show, then you’ll find plenty to enjoy here.

Kicking off with ‘Diddley Bo’, a raucous song telling you how to construct the instrument of it’s title, Seasick Steve delivers twelve songs of boogie blues, rollicking rhythms and tender introspection. Delving deep into his back story, the songs cover the well worn roads of his life. From the incarcerated protagonist dreaming of the day he’s free in the stomping ‘That’s All’, to the hobo that’s just ‘Happy (To Have A Job)’, it seems there’s still plenty of angles for his persona to mine. Seasick Steve’s greatest trick isn’t that he’s sold us this character; it’s that he’s able to continue selling it to us. It may be his fourth record about hobo life, railroad life and prison life but it hasn’t tired yet. He’s the everyman that’s lived the extraordinary life. Sure it’s an exaggerated, romanticised, potentially fabricated life but he presents it with such energy and self deprecation, that you can’t help be entertained. ‘Seasick Boogie’ is pretty self explanatory, a big old dumb riff and drum clatter designed to get your feet moving. ‘Never Go West’ is a rollicking, hollering warning blast, albeit a little tame compared to it’s live incarnation. Only on ‘Big, Green And Yeller’, a tale about buying a John Deere tractor, does the joke misfire and descend into a corny parody. The cartoon writ large.

The best moments however are where the record steps out of character, leaving Steve free to tackle more universal subjects. From the title track’s musings on ageing, to ‘Dark’s pale introspection on death and solitude, to the gentle romance of ‘My Home (Blue Eyes)’ explaining why you don’t have to say those three little words where you’re in love. The emotion and heart in these songs is real, honest and shows that as fun as his well spun stories are, Seasick Steve is more than just a great creation. On these songs, the real Steve comes through. The genuine, engaging bluesman.

Seasick Steve - never go west (live session version) original version available on 'Man From Another Time'

mp3 / music / seasick steve

It's starting to all make sense

2009-11-05T15:09:00.001Z

Nostalgia has always played a part in the music of Luke Haines.

Scattershot references to the people, places and events that informed his childhood litter his work.

From Auteurs lyrics that detail the minutiae of British ‘culture’, through the explicit use of the Baader Meinhof name, on to the subtle use of imagery such as Lord Lucan in his band’s artwork, the 1970s are nearly always present in one form or another. Although not necessarily in a positive way. Where Ray Davies detailed the quirky aspects of British life and Morrissey glamorises an imagined England that probably never really existed, Luke Haines is far more cynical, barbed and realistic. Maybe an altogether truer embodiment of what it is to be British.

If he ever owned some rose tinted specs, they lost their lustre a long time ago. He doesn’t hark back to a glory time. Never kids himself that the old days were better. Rather, his references deconstruct that very British ideal. They get under the skin of the façade. Offer a sneary dismissal of the minutiae that fills our island. The ridiculous, hypocritical nature of the stiff upper lip. The superiority complex. The little island syndrome. The empty passing fads. The oh-so-important tabloid press and their duplicitous nature. The hush-hush-brush-it-under-the-carpet-hope-it-goes-away mentality. He scratches the itch. Picks away at the scabs. If it’s been built up, he’s more than willing to knock it down. All of which sounds very bleak, pessimistic and not a great deal of fun to listen to.

Thankfully, Luke Haines is in possession of two things that stop him falling into that particular hole. Firstly, that most British of things, the dry wit. While it’s easy to paint him as the one dimensional grouch the way the press regularly does, it’s not an accurate portrayal. There’s an intelligent humour in his writing that often gets missed or misinterpreted. He pokes fun, mocks and highlights absurdities without ever resorting to cruel, unnecessary jibes. The fact that he doesn’t live up to the clichés of rock excess, dumb down or tow the line is, I think, probably the reason for the perception of him as being awkward and an eternal misery. At least that’s how he can come across in the print media. On the few occasions I’ve heard him interviewed he always comes across as a personable, funny and yes, cynical person. He’s also a great songwriter. The second of his saving graces.

Now, if you’ve hung around here for a while, you’ll know I’m a pretty big fan of The Auteurs and indeed, I’ve posted a few bits by a few of his bands trying to get people to listen to what he’s done before. But today, I’m posting something new. An acoustic version of the title track from his new album. More than any song that’s come before it, ‘21st Century Man’ is an honest, straight forward, autobiographical song detailing the events of his life. From his birth to the preset day, it’s the story of his life and how it mixed and mingled with the headlines, politics, people and events of the day. Bowie, Thatcher and the Green Cross Code Man are all name checked as that familiar to some semi whispered voice reflects on where he came from and maybe where he seems himself in the new century. The dawning realisation that his cultural reference points are all in the past finds Luke Haines not exactly happy with his lot, but certainly more aware of his place in the world. ‘I travelled all my life, but never got away’ he once wrote on Black Box Recorder’s ‘England Made Me’. Here he seems to have finally stopped moving, accepting his place as ‘an exile in a foreign land’. Feeling out of touch with the modern world he may be, but on the basis of this song there’s still some life in him yet.

Luke Haines - 21st century man (live session version) original version available on '21st Century Man'

mp3 / music / luke haines

All things have memories

2009-11-02T15:45:00.000Z

If I had to choose one word to describe the new Idlewild album, I'd go with reliable.

Or maybe dependable.

Two words which, if I was talking about a new car could be deemed as positive. But in the context of an album review? Well that's a different matter. Or at least, I guess it depends on what you want from music. In this case it also depends a little on how you feel about Idlewild. 'Post Electric Blues' is the sound of a band being comfortable in their own skin. Nothing more, nothing less. If you've heard their last two albums then you'll have a pretty good idea of how this one sounds. There are no wild new directions. No side steps into dubstep. No heart stopping anarchic electro punk moments. What you get is a steady mix of mature indie rock with gentle acoustic bits, harder rocking bits, the occasional folky violin thrown in and a couple of questionable key changes. Business as usual in other words. And probably a pretty good explanation of why this record doesn't seem to have picked up much press attention. I mean, who wants to review a record that you've kind of heard before when there are exciting, genre defying, barrier breaking, era defining, ultra hip records to write about?

Well, me for one. Part of that comes from Idlewild being one of those bands that I hold a special place for. Whose music meant a lot to me growing up and who frankly have never let me down. Idlewild are a band I’ve got a lot of time for and so regardless of what, when or how they release their music, I’m pretty sure I’ll always be willing to at least give them a listen. Which so far sounds like the undying loyalty of a blinkered fan unwilling to accept the truth. But trust me, this is more than that. You see, the other reason I’m writing about ‘Post Electric Blues’ is that despite what my words in the opening paragraph may have implied, this album contains some great songs. Sure there may be no great surprises, no massive sonic leap forwards but don’t let that fool you into thinking this is a tired band parodying themselves. Far from it. Over the last few albums Idlewild have grown up. Their music has matured. Mellowed. The edges have been smoothed off but ultimately, the songs are still good. They may have lost some of the youthful abandon that once marked their albums apart but rather that, than some embarrassing half arsed attempt to recapture the sound of their younger selves.

In truth, ‘Post Electric Blues’ finds Idlewild honing their talents, their musicianship and their songwriting. Crafting eleven songs with some of the most striking melodies of their career. Album opener ‘Younger Than America’ is as bold and anthemic as anything the band have recorded before. ‘Readers & Writers’ is their most deliciously obvious attempt at writing a hit single since ‘You Held The World In Your Arms’ and you can’t help but think that recorded by a new band, it would have been all over the radio like a rash. ‘Take Me Back To The Islands’ is a direct link to Roddy’s solo work, a beautiful folk tinged semi-ballad that stakes it place at the heart of this record. And where once the band rattled through their songs with barely a pause for breath, here they close off the record with a blur of songs that, while never moving above mid pace, reward you with a delightful rush of soaring choruses and catchy hooks. ‘Post Electric Blues’ may not set the charts on fire and chances are it won’t win them any new fans, but it’s a solid record from one of the most consistent bands of the last ten years.

Idlewild - city hall (live session version) original version avaialble on 'Post Electric Blues'

Idlewild - readers & writers (live session version) original version avaialble on 'Post Electric Blues'

mp3 / music / idlewild

Morrissey - Birmingham Symphony Hall 23/10/2009

2009-10-25T12:45:00.000Z

It's seems Guinness are right.

Good things do come to those that wait.

Five months after the show was postponed through illness, Morrissey finally arrives at Symphony Hall. Or as he prefers to dub it, Sympathy Hall. And what a way to make an entrance. Striding confidently on stage as the band launch into a ferocious version of 'This Charming Man', Morrissey appears ready to make up for lost time. The band batter the song into it's now familiar fast choppy punk-lite version while Morrissey sways and whips and teases and feigns and reaches out and pulls back and does everything you want and expect him to do. Only at times, it seems a little forced. As though he is having to push himself. Something seems wrong and throughout the 80 minutes he's on stage, there's a nagging sense that all is not right. He seems restrained. Unable to give his all. He alludes to almost not making it. Makes a throwaway remark about the morphine kicking in. A comment which, at the time felt like one of his typically pithy comments, with hindsight takes on a greater relevance given his collapse onstage the following night. At the time however, it is little more of a nagging sense and to dwell on it would take away from what is essentially a triumphant performance worth waiting for.

The wait, one would imagine, has also informed the set list. Where back in May, you'd have expected it to lean heavily on the just released 'Years Of Refusal', tonight it's a far more varied mix than that and indeed than previous tours. There's no 'Irish Blood, English Heart', no 'Suedehead', replaced instead by less obvious picks. A good pick of recent material sits next to an impressive number of Smiths songs which in turn take equal position alongside tracks from the forthcoming 'Swords' b-sides album. On paper it might look like a somewhat random, disparate collection but in reality it works well, lesser known tracks sounding just as good as those more familiar.

Morrissey meanwhile is his usual playful, mockingly dramatic self. Less chatty than he has been known to be, he is nonetheless as equal parts charming and knowingly awkward as ever, taunting the reaching hands of the crowd with his just out reach presence. He graces the worthy with a few handshakes. Teasingly places a copy of his upcoming release on the floor inches from stretched out arms, eventually deeming one crowd member worthy of it and swapping it with something they brought for him. There are a few moments where the strains of health or maybe age attack his voice. The smoothness of his distinct croon faltering slightly the longer the gig goes on, but there's no question he gives all that he is able to.

And to their credit the band are on form tonight. Not just backing Morrissey through the music but supporting him with a presence that raises them above mere backing band. While never threatening to take the focus of their leader, the crowd are just as much a part of tonight's performance and focus as the man himself. Boz Boorer and Jesse Tobias regularly wandering to the front and soaking up some adulation for themselves. And where the band have been known to batter some songs into submission, tonight they find the right distinction between controlled aggression and simply being too heavy handed. 'Black Cloud' and 'Ganglord' boom out forcefully but with a subtlety and clarity that the band hasn't necessarily displayed before. 'I'm Okay By Myself' thunders to and end, the bass line drawn out into a repeating solo that wouldn't seem out of place at a punk gig yet seems just as apt here. 'Because Of My Poor Education' is a wonderful slice of melodrama, beautifully and delicately performed, 'Cemetry Gates' is performed with a delightful lightness of touch, while 'Nowhere Fast' rattles by at a quickened pace that adds a surprisingly effective sense of urgency. 'Life Is A Pigsty' meanwhile closes the main set in dramatic style, all stormy portent and atmospheric fury that justifies it's position as set closer far more than the album version would suggest. Morrissey exits the stage quickly with little fuss or flourish leaving the band to take the limelight, extending the song in a gloriously epic manner.

The two highlights however come in the form of 'How Soon Is Now' and 'The Loop'. The latter far exceeding the understated nature of it's studio version with a raucous outing that is part punk rockabilly, part spaghetti western. Morrissey swaying majestically with each tambourine bash, his band taking the lead and unleash the track with an enthusiasm and swagger or pure rock and roll. 'How Soon Is Now' meanwhile is simply breath taking. The familiar oscillating guitar resounding around the hall. The band attacking it with muscular verve, Morrissey tackling it with a freshness that belies it's familiarity. Stretching the song out with an extended outro of thundering timpani drums, Morrissey lays out on the floor in reverence of Jesse Tobias, gazing up admiringly at his newest guitar hero. The following night, he will find himself on the floor once more in a far more dramatic manner but one thing is for certain. He may be down, but on the evidence of this performance, it's still not time to count him out just yet.

Set List :This Charming Man (The Smiths cover) / Black Cloud / Ganglord / How Soon Is Now? (The Smiths cover) / I'm OK By Myself / Because Of My Poor Education / Death At One's Elbow (The Smiths cover) / Teenage Dad On His Estate / I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris / The Loop / Nowhere Fast (The Smiths cover) / When Last I Spoke To Carol / Cemetry Gates (The Smiths cover) / One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell / Why Don't You Find Out For Yourself / Is It Really So Strange? (The Smiths cover) / The World Is Full Of Crashing Bores / Life Is A Pigsty / Encore: First Of The Gang To Die

Morrissey - I'm ok by myself (live at the BBC 11/02/2009) original version available on 'Years Of Refusal'

mp3 / music / morrissey / birmingham symphony hall / live review

A dreaded sunny day

2009-10-24T10:49:00.004+01:00

Last night I saw Morrissey for the umpteenth time.

A review will be forthcoming but in the meantime here's a little bit of the view I had.

mp3 / music / morrissey

I will scatter on the floor

2009-10-23T09:22:00.001+01:00

I started 2009 dismissing White Lies entirely.

But my position has shifted somewhat as the year’s gone on.

Not a complete thawing of the ice cold reception I initially gave them. Just a less cynical one. Where once I dismissed them as a thoroughly watered down version of Editors doing an impression of Interpol at their most Joy Division like, now I’m kind of seeing a little bit more to their shtick. They may well be heavily indebted to those bands but if you can see past that, they’ve actually got some pretty good songs. I don’t think they’re the sort of band that are ever going to appear in one of my best of lists but they’re one of those bands that fill a gap. You know the sort of thing I mean. One of those bands you stick on when you just need to listen to something familiar, pleasant and enjoyable that doesn’t need much attention paying to it. I admit, as ringing endorsements go, it’s not one you’re going to find on their next press release but hey, that’s just where I see them fitting in.

Anyway, the reason I’m writing a mildly positive post about them is that I’ve just come across their cover of Portishead’s ‘The Rip’. You’d be hard pushed to do a bad version of this song especially when you don’t stray too far from the template. But where the original was an understated brooding affair, this is more of a standard indie band cover. The kind cover of that replicates the song without capturing the intention, tone or feel of the original. Where Beth Gibbons conveyed the song’s emotion with an uncomfortably raw performance, this has the sense of a singer merely singing someone else’s words. Following the melody as opposed to feeling it. Where Portishead wrong footed you morphing unexpectedly from tender fragility into the pulsing rhythm track, this version practically signposts it’s intentions from the off. You’re under no illusions that the band are just itching to break into the propulsive ending. You can see it coming a mile away. Even if you'd never heard the original, you just know that at some point the song is going to build to a point where it will suddenly burst into life. In this version, there is no surprise. No moment of being caught off guard. No subtely. And when it comes, it’s pretty much as you’d expect. A bombastic display of 80s post punk synths and a dramatic guitar line replacing the driving electronic throb. While it might not touch the greatness of the original, it’s a pretty good run through. Kind of like White Lies themselves then.

White Lies - the rip (Portishead cover live session version) original version available on 'Third'

mp3 / music / white lies

The sun shines in the bedroom when you play

2009-10-20T15:05:00.000+01:00

What is it they say about the best laid plans?

Something about them never running smoothly I’m sure.

Well if nothing else, my intentions were honourable. You can’t take that away from me. The day before we were due to fly, while my girlfriend was packing, I hastily rearranged the contents of my iPod, replacing rarely listened to albums with new records to immerse myself in and write about on my return. That was the plan anyway. Like I said, my intentions were honourable. Unfortunately, lying poolside with the sun slow roasting me, my plan evaporated. Forgive me but it was far easier to just hit shuffle and formulate no further opinions about music I was already familiar with. So for 10 days, a random mix soundtracked my trip to Tunisia, interrupted only by full plays of Iggy Pop and Leonard Cohen albums and some refreshing dips in the world’s coldest swimming pool. All of which means that alas, I have no new music to write about. (Though I now have a previously unapparent awareness and appreciation of how strangely perfect ‘The Idiot’ and ‘Lust For Life’ sound in the Tunisian heat.)

Well no, that’s not strictly true. I do have some new music to write about, only it’s not in the strictest sense new. What I mean is that it’s an old band but one that’s new to me. Not that I’ve been totally unaware of them. Far from it. This is a band I first heard about 15 or so years ago, but one that only recently took the time to actually listen to. In truth, I’m guilty of taking a few key facts, making an assumption from them and deciding that the band wasn’t for me. I mean, who needs to actually listen to the music to come to a hastily drawn conclusion? Not me that’s for sure.

So anyway, the band is The Vaselines and the reason for not listening to them is probably the same reason that most people did listen to them. That being an endorsement from a certain Kurt Cobain. Along with Daniel Johnston, The Vaselines will never escape the cursed chalice of being name dropped by Kurt Cobain. See if you can find an article post 1994 that doesn’t mention at least one passing reference to his name. While in terms of exposure to a larger audience it’s an undoubted blessing, an endorsement like that carries with it the inescapable weight of being a pesky short hand reference point that will forever shadow them. In the same way that having massive mainstream success with one song can forever leave you perceived as a one hit wonder, a big name endorsement can easily come to swallow the band itself.

In this case, Nirvana covered The Vaselines on their MTV Unplugged performance, raised their profile and then … well, then nothing. Or not a lot anyway. The band had already split up so the momentum of the endorsement never really went anywhere. Knowing that nirvana covered them seemed to override any actual need to listen to the band themselves. Besides, in light of his death and the record’s posthumous release, all eyes were on Kurt’s interpretation of the songs rather more than his choice of cover. Never being a particularly big fan of either Nirvana or grunge, I simply assumed they were some hardcore American band Kurt was a fan of and that I invariably wouldn’t be. Confused logic for sure but hey, what can I say, I was a teenager at the time.

Could I have been any wronger? The truth is that the Vaselines the sort of band I would have loved back then and certainly love now. Roughly recorded, scuzzily played and seemingly no due care paid to ‘proper’ studio techniques. Short, sharp blasts of disarmingly cute sounding but adult themed jangly indie. To my ears there’s a certain recognisable sound and feel to Scottish indie and The Vaselines encompass it completely. Listen to almost any successful alternative band that’s followed them from North of the Border and you can almost certainly trace a line back in some way to the humble, lo-fi recordings of Eugene Kelly and Frances McKee. From the sweet twee naivety of Belle and Sebastian, to the sunny indie pop of Teenage Fanclub, to the raw melancholy of Frightened Rabbit, it seems like The Vaselines did it first. Albeit with a dirtier mind and filthier mouth. Listening to them in retrospect as I have been, I can’t help but think of that quote about The Velvet Underground selling only small number of records but influencing everyone who bought it to start a band. I might be wrong of course, I don’t know enough about the band or their influence on those bands I mentioned. It just seems that way to me.

The Vaselines - dying for it (live session version) original version available on 'The Way Of The Vaselines'

The Vaselines - mollys lips (live acoustic session version) original version available on 'The Way Of The Vaselines'

The Vaselines - son of a gun (live session version) original version available on 'The Way Of The Vaselines'

The Vaselines - rory rides me raw (live acoustic session version) original version available on 'The Way Of The Vaselines'

mp3 / music / the vaselines

I need another one

2009-10-16T17:03:00.000+01:00

Well that was a dramatic pause.

In case you were wondering, I've been on holiday in Tunisia.

And having spent 10 days laid out by the pool lounging on a sun lounger in glorious sunshine and sweat inducing heat doing nothing except soaking up the rays, I'm the midst of the post holiday blues. Normal service will be resumed as and when I've readjusted to the goose bump inducing cold of life back home. For the time being though, while the subject matter of this song isn't exactly appropriate, the title of this song and downbeat nature of this performance by Cold War Kids seem kinda apt.

Cold War Kids - we used to vacation (downbeat live session version) original version available on 'Robbers & Cowards'

mp3 / music / cold war kids

All we've ever had was now

2009-10-04T10:02:00.000+01:00

Here's a random mix for you.

No reason for it.

Just some songs that I've not gotten round to fitting in any posts but that I think deserve to be heard. So I thought I'd herd them all together like rogue sheep into this random mix. Enjoy.

Broken Social Scene - xerxes (live acoustic session version)

Coldplay - we never change (live acoustic session version) original version available on 'Parachutes'

The Dandy Warhols - not if you were the last junkie on earth (live acoustic session version) original version available on 'The Dandy Warhols Come Down'

The Flaming Lips - all we have is now (live session version) original version available on 'Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots'

Frank Black - velouria (live acoustic session version) original version available on 'Bossanova'

Jason Lytle - rolling home alone (live acoustic session version) original version available on 'Yours truly, The Commander'

Placebo - the neverending why (live acoustic session version) original version available on 'Battle For The Sun'

Tom Vek - the lower the sun (live session version) original version available on 'We Have Sound'

mp3 / music / mixtape

How fickle fate can be

2009-10-03T11:41:00.001+01:00

Whenever I listen to Beth Orton's debut album, I always end up wondering where did it all go wrong?

'Trailer Park' is such an amazing record that everything she's released since has been such a disappointment.

From the moment I heard the opening strains of the whale like violin that ushers in 'She Cries Your Name' I was hooked. I first heard it late night on Radio One and it's beauty and simplicity just blew me away. Today this day, it's one of my favourite songs. A melancholic haunting piece takes traditional folk and layers on a light, shuffling hip hop beat. Indeed the whole album was a perfect blend of traditional folk and subtle modern production that invigorated the whole thing with a fresh feeling. It was soft and gentle. Introspective moments offset by poppier upbeat tracks. Beth's gently accented voice bridging all those elements, a wonderful, distinct instrument that relaxes, and intrigues. With a Chemical Brothers collaboration under her belt and positive reviews across the board, it seemed that Beth was set for huge success.

And then nothing. Well not quite but almost. Somehow she got caught up in the wave of chill out ambient, post comedown music that inexplicably swept the UK for a while. Chill out became a by word for lazy slow, beats with no substance. All crappy compilations and join the dots records that were so bland and indistinguishable that the success and popularity of them was simply unexplainable. Except that maybe if you were coming down from a night of heavy partying, maybe you needed something that didn't need need any kind of cognitive engagement. And for a while Beth Orton became some kind of poster child for this sort of music. Whether that damaged her image critically or creatively I'm not sure but she appeared to react to it by dropping the dancier elements of her music and produce records that stuck closer to a traditional folk route. And while she has written some good songs since, she's never managed to produce such a cohesive, enjoyable and moving record as 'Trailer Park'.

So here are three beautiful acoustic session versions of tracks from that debut record. Each stripped down to Beth's voice and her guitar. Stark, fragile and simply beautiful. Is there a more heartbreaking song than "I Wish I Never Saw The Sunshine'?

Beth Orton - she cries your name (live acoustic session version) original version available on 'Trailer Park'

Beth Orton - someone's daughter (live acoustic session version) original version available on 'Trailer Park'

Beth Orton - I wish I never saw the sunshine (live acoustic session version) original version available on 'Trailer Park'

mp3 / music / beth orton

We're banging pots and pans

2009-10-02T10:27:00.003+01:00

The general consensus seems to be be that 'Daydream Nation' is Sonic Youth's best album.

But it's not an opinion I subscribe to.

While critics fawn over it, drooling as they thrust superlatives in it's general direction, I'm left wondering what the fuss is all about. I'm not saying it's a bad album. It's just one that leaves me feeling non-plussed every time I listen to it. Occasionally when it crops up in some best of list, I'll give it another go, as if a fresh listen will suddenly reveal something I've been missing and make the whole thing click in tio place. But that never happens. There's some good songs and I'm not denying that I don't get some enjoyment from it. It's just that I don't connect to it in the same way that I do to some of their other records. It leaves me feeling a little cold. I find it an awkward listen. Not one that I can sit comfortably and listen to. The fact that it can seem to last forever doesn't help. Sometimes I wonder if it's a timing thing. That because I came to it late, years after it's release, I don't quite understand it's position or importance within the band's development. But then, I came to most Sonic Youth records pretty late so I'm not sure it's that. Maybe I'm just a heathen who wouldn't recognise an amazing album if he heard one. Yeah, that might be it.

The thing is, if for some unknown reason, I could only ever listen to one Sonic Youth album ever again 'Daydream Nation' wouldn't even make it into my top three. Maybe not even my top five. If I had to pick one, I'd go with 'Dirty'. No question. It captures the band at what I consider to be their peak. Mixing the band's experimental art noise with more focused song writing and what could even be described as a pop sensibility. Kind of. In a skewed sort of way. Yes it's easier on the ear, a more polished, commercial and mainstream release. Yes, it was the album that Geffen attempted to push the band and ride on the coattails of Nirvana's success and endoresment. It may not be the coolest choice and might lose me some indie cred hipster points but goddamn if it doesn't have some of the best songs the band has ever released.

So with that in mind, here are three session tracks recorded back in the day when they were promoting that record along with the first track from their debut release recorded in the same session. And in case you were wondering, the other Sonic Youth records I'd pick above 'Daydream Nation' are original version available on 'Sonic Nurse', 'Goo', 'Washing Machine', 'Sister' and 'The Eternal'. Make of that what you will.

Sonic Youth - purr (live session version) original version available on 'Dirty'

Sonic Youth - youth against fascism (live session version) original version available on 'Dirty'

Sonic Youth - creme brulee (live session version) original version available on 'Dirty'

Sonic Youth - burning spear (live session version) original version available on 'Sonic Youth'

mp3 / music / sonic youth

Try everything you can

2009-09-27T11:08:00.000+01:00

I don't think Jimmy Eat World have written a better song than 'The Middle'.

It's a heady mix of punk fuelled energy and pure pop sensibility.

A full blown three minute adrenaline rush of chugging guitars, thundering drums and a chorus that just grabs your by the hand and sends you spiraling into a flurry of mad dancing. It's one of those songs that manages the rare trick of being great no matter when, where or how often you hear it. The problem of course, is that it was the first song of theirs I ever heard and it set a standard by which I judge every other Jimmy Eat World song. Now I'm fully aware of how unfair that is but it's just the way it is.

Sometimes a band hits on a song so perfect in every way that everything else they do just sounds a bit flat. A bit of a let down. It's the one hit wonder phenomenon. And it's not necessarily a bad thing. So many bands and artists stumble across the perfect pop formula, capture it in three glorious minutes and then spend the rest of their career being judged by it. Some attempt to recapture it, knocking off bad formulaic imitations that make them look like one trick ponies. Some run desperately away from it, hating the success and bitterly not wishing to be defined by it. And some just get on with writing more songs that never capture that moment again, that never break through to the mainstream but that are loved by enough people to allow them to continue making music.

I guess most of us who are passionate about music have loads of bands we love that are ignored by the mainstream press. Critically acclaimed bands that never particularly trouble the charts or the airwaves. That maybe crossover once or twice with a high chart position. That give you a weird moment of pride and satisfaction when you see them on TV show that would never normally look twice at them. It used to annoy me intensely to hear my favourite bands referred to as one hit wonders just because they'd only had one acknowledged chart hit. Before Nick Cave was accepted as some kind of elder statesmen, it would wind me up no end to hear people describe him as just that creepy, pale looking bloke who once sang with Kylie Minogue. To hear such an important artist with as immense back catalogue as his dismissed with such a comment would rile me up no end. Normally by people with no real interest in music. People with such bad taste in music that to have a conversation with them about it was near impossible. The kind of conversation where you feel like you should apologise for them not knowing any of the bands that you're talking about. The kind of people who think that Snow Patrol are a cutting edge alternative band. Who say they love Jeff Buckley but only know 'Hallelujah' because they heard it on some shitty American teen drama. I guess there'll be a Jimmy Eat World fan out there who'll read this and feel the same way about me. Not that I'm saying they're a one hit wonder. They've a fair few songs that I enjoy listening to, it's just that for me, none of them come close to touching 'The Middle'.

Jimmy Eat World - the middle (live session version) original version available on 'Jimmy Eat World'

Jimmy Eat World - salt sweat sugar (live session version) original version available on 'Jimmy Eat World'

Jimmy Eat World - game of pricks (live session version)

Jimmy Eat World - a praise chorus (live session version) original version available on 'Jimmy Eat World'

mp3 / music / jimmy eat world

For this is the beginning of forever and ever

2009-09-25T14:33:00.001+01:00

This is just a wonderful version of an amazing song.

It quite literally yearns.

It's wounded, desperate heart is clear for all to see. It epitomises the very essence of the word sorrow. It's harrowing and bleak. Five minutes of glorious melancholy. Listening to it now, it's hard to believe that this song and it's parent album enjoyed mainstream success. Especially considering the environment they were released in. For in the mid 90s, the times they were a changing.

At least they appeared to be. With a change of government imminent, it felt like the country was beginning to ride a wave of optimism. Whether that was real or just something that was repeated until we believed it, is open to debate. Hindsight might suggest otherwise but you can't deny that at the time there was a renewed sense of belief in everything. In politics, in football, in music. It may well have been a false dawn but there's no denying that at the time it felt good. For 18 months, the sun seemed to shine, the nation seemed bouyant of mood, guitar music ruled the charts and celebrating Britain and Britishness was seen as a poitive thing. The Union Jack had been reclaimed and the cultural landscape was abuzz with national pride. The music was upbeat. The tempo was brisk and selfish hedonism was on the menu. Everywhere you turned it was Britpop. It was Cool Britannia. It was Liam and Noel and Damon and Justine. It was lads, birds, beers and footie. It was everything this song and this band weren't.

With their mix of noirish lounge jazz, hip hop breaks and beats and Beth Gibbons' gloomy, tortured anti-torch singer vocals, Portishead were at odds with everything going on around them. Completely out of step with the times. The doubting voice that pulled at the coat tails of the semi forced positivity. They dared to look into the dark and suggest that things weren't so rosy. That ignoring the problems doesn't mean they've gone away. Portishead took a risk and made the music they wanted to make. A move which, when an act is so out of synch with what is happening in the mainstream, normally leaves them ignored or overlooked. Yet it's a testament to the quality of the songs that they not only broke through, but won the 1995 Mercury Music Prize and ended the year riding high on many end of year lists. It's easy to understand why.

What's harder to understand is why this album become a byword for coffee table and dinner party chic. That sort of accusation is normally levelled at trite, middle of the road fare. Neither of which you could comfortably accuse 'Dummy' of being. Not unless you hadn't listened to it for a long time. Maybe it's got something to do with the trip hop label they got tagged with. Maybe the myriad of smooth, lightweight imitators that followed in their wake served to watered them down by association. But be under no illusions, this album and this band were not easy listening. To this day 'Dummy' remains a startling, uncomfortable, paranoid, intense listen. It's also a rewarding one. So if you've never heard it or you haven't listened to it for years, give it another spin because unlike a lot of the throwaway records from the time, it hasn't dated. If anything, it sounds more timeless than ever before.

Portishead - glory box (live session version) original version available on 'Dummy'

mp3 / music / portishead

Pour gasoline on fire

2009-09-19T11:20:00.001+01:00

I reckon we need something loud and feisty to start off the weekend.

I don't know why, it's just what I'm in the mood for.

So here's an old Babes In Toyland session to blow the cobwebs out of your ears. Something they were always pretty damn good at. I remember seeing them live years ago and being astounded by how much noise they generated and how intense their performance was. They were a revelation. I was still just getting into music and up until that point, listening to mostly British indie. All white boys with guitars whose melodies were softer and songs were more of the insular wallflower kind. To say my eyes and ears were opened by Babes In Toyland would not be an understatement. They were one of the bands that helped develop my fledgling music tastes and opened doors to new, wilder underground music. It's safe to say I'd never really heard music this wild and unhinged before. A band that played with the role of female musicians and refused to be pigeon holed by it. They weren't vacous puppets controlled by men nor vamps designed to titillate nor men hating harridans. They were simply strong women who played just as fast and rocked just as hard as their male counterparts. If not more so.

In Kat Bjelland the babes had one hell of a front woman. Strong, occasionally volatile and frankly a little scary up on stage. She was also allegedly the inspiration for ex bandmate Courtney Love's image at the time. A kind of gothic broken doll style. All dirty virginal dresses, smudged lipstick, a messy birds nest of blonde hair and a vocabulary located somewhere near the gutter. But while hindsight could argue that Courtney was merely playing the role, there was no cracked actor inside Kat. You just knew she was for real. Her voice could go from a soft shy and sweetly demure girly tone to a wild, screeching holler that would scare the beejus out of you.

Time seems to have almost forgotten about Babes In Toyland. Consigned them to the footnotes of grunge and riot grrrl. Two movements they sat on the fringes of but were never really a part of. For me they were simply a revelation. Part of the early 90s American alternative rock invasion that came to these shores and just seemed so much more exciting than anything Britain could offer. I'm sure part of that is some kind of misplaced romanticism of foreign bands but it's easy to forget the thrill and impact of finally hearing the music that these strange looking and weirdly named bands you'd read about for months were making. Before the click of a button allowed you to hear any music and watch any live performance, to hear a single on the radio or discover that one of these bands were touring near you, was an exhilarating feeling. The internet can do many things but it can't recapture that.

Babes In Toyland - mad pilot (live session version) original version available on 'To Mother (EP)'

Babes In Toyland - pearl (live session version) original version available on 'Fontanelle'

Babes In Toyland - dogg (live session version) original version available on 'Spanking Machine'

Babes In Toyland - laugh my head off (live session version) original version available on 'To Mother (EP)'

mp3 / music / babes in toyland

Like a cut down tree I will rise again

2009-09-12T13:11:00.001+01:00

2009 seems to have been filled with a lot of disappointing albums.

Records that are distinctly average.

Neither good enough to gush over, nor bad enough to slate. Records that just exist. That merely fill the time they play for. That I’m easily distracted from. That say nothing to me about my life. Records that don’t really inspire me to want to write anything about them. So I thought rather than just ignore them completely, I’d lump them in together under the banner of being a lazy post about records that have a couple of good songs but nothing you’d lose any sleep over if you never heard them again.

Of the bunch, I’m most disappointed by the records from Noah & The Whale and My Latest Novel because I adored their debut albums so much. You could argue that maybe my expectations were too high but honestly, I think both offerings are just a bit mediocre. The former is a break up record so relentlessly maudlin and one paced that it just becomes a struggle to get through. Lacking the variety of pace and mood that their debut record reveled in, only 'Love Of An Orchestra' offers any real break from the navel gazing introspection. Alas it's so cheesy and overblown that it stands out for all the wrong reasons.

My Latest Novel also seem to have taken a few missteps on their new record. Over eleven songs they show almost none of the rough charm that made me fall for them in the first place. The edges have been smoothed off and the whole thing feels like they’ve spent far too much time thinking about how to make it sound grand and epic. It’s ambitious certainly but unfortunately for me, it fails to hit the highs it’s reaching for. As for ‘Humbug’, well, frankly it’s just a bit dull. A bit sludgy and lumpen. It lacks any of the musical wit and lightness of touch that made the Arctic Monkeys so thrilling in the first place. Though worse than that, is the distinct lack of any decent tunes.

Like I say, none of them are particularly bad records, they're just incredibly disappointing. Now you could argue that if I gave these records more of a chance then they might suddenly click. That maybe they just need more time to reveal themselves. And yes, there’s a chance you might be right. But frankly, I’ve not heard enough in them that makes me want to listen to them again. I’m all for giving records time and space to settle in but I’m always worried that forcing yourself to listen to something merely creates the illusion of liking them because you become familiar with them. I mean, how many times have you found yourself humming along to some shitty song that you hate purely because you’ve heard it everywhere you go?

Noah & The Whale - first days of spring (live session version) original version available on 'The First Days Of Spring'

My Latest Novel - a dear green place (live session version) original version available on 'Deaths & Entrances'

Arctic Monkeys - crying lightning (live acoustic session version) original version available on 'Humbug'

Life can be so ordinary

2009-09-03T09:04:00.000+01:00

For those of you who loved Drugstore, you’re in for a treat.

For those of you who’ve never heard Drugstore, you’re in for a treat too.

Having been hidden away since around 2001, Drugstore are back. They’re probably best known for their collaboration with Thom Yorke on the song ‘El Presidente’, but there’s a lot more to them than that. It’s not their best song and it’s not taken from their best album. Infact, I’d say that their second album was a bit of a disappointment compared to the impact their first album had on me. The self titled debut album was a dark, sparse, complex and slightly melancholic. Isabel’s off kilter broken English vocals adding the kind of charm that we idnie boys lapped up. It’s follow up, ‘White Magic For Lovers’, however seemed all too caught up in Britpop fever. The songs felt half formed, a little throwaway and too concerned with chasing chart success than continuing any kind of artistry. Not that there’s anything wrong with that per se. It just felt that it was at a detriment to the songs. Whether that was a conscious decision by the band, a natural progression or the result of label pressure, I don’t know. The resulting single with Thom Yorke certainly raised their profile but there wasn’t much to follow it up with. While there were undoubtedly some good songs on it, for me it lacked consistency and any kind of flow.

So it’ll be interesting to see what they’re up to now. Whether they’re reforming for the music or just to milk a few drops from the nostalgia cow. At present they only seem to be playing one gig in London on Monday so it’ll be interesting to see what kind of response there is and whether there’s an audience beyond the core obsessives. If you head over to Isabel's blog you'll see she's posted a few rough demos which I guess hints at new material to come from the band. They sound pretty intriguing but are more like sketches than anything solid so it’s hard to get much of an idea. She says one is meant to be a duet and highlights a certain Nick Cave as the ideal suitor so who knows what may be to come.

Until then, here are a couple of live session tracks from back in the day. ‘Modern Pleasure’ was an early single that didn’t appear on any album, while ‘Fader’ is from the debut album and is probably my personal favourite song of theirs. Whether you’re new to the band or an old fan, I hope you enjoy.

Drugstore - fader (live session version) original version available on 'Drugstore'

Drugstore - modern pleasure (live session version)

mp3 / music / drugstore

Last night I swear I felt your touch

2009-08-29T09:29:00.004+01:00

I still haven't gotten round to buying the latest Bill Callahan release.

It's name sits atop the ever growing list of stuff what I want.

But if 'Eid Ma Clack Shaw' is anything to go by, chances are I'll love it. This is one of my favourite songs of the year. A song I've listened to so many times and still haven't grown bored of it. Just simply another stunning track that marches along on a steady metronomic rhythm. Bill's tale of attempting to capture a dream about the perfect song. Waking in the morning only to find that his sleepy scribblings are pure nonsensical gibberish. Or are they?

Maybe not. In many ways, our reaction to music doesn't make sense. There are no rules to it. You can never really explain why you love one song or another. Sure you can point to certain tangible factors but that's more of a human necessity to make everything seem rational and logical. But then sometimes we can remain totally unmoved by songs that would fit that same criteria. We can spend so long attempting to understand and explain music, that we can miss the fundamental, primal reaction to it. And if our reaction to music is impossible to really nail down, who knows, maybe the gobbledygook that Bill captured in 'Eid Ma Cack Shaw' actually makes sense. In an illogical kind of way. Maybe his inability to decipher the perfect song in this instance, reflects our true inability to understand why we love any song.

Bill Callahan - eid ma clack shaw (live session version) original version available on 'Sometimes I Wish I Were An Eagle'

mp3 / music / bill callahan

I got the big beat

2009-08-28T09:18:00.000+01:00

I don’t really like the most recent stuff that Dizzee Rascal’s been releasing.

I’m not gonna aim any populist, mainstream accusations at him, it’s just not my bag, baby.

I much prefer it when Dizzee’s beats are big and dirty as opposed to the current dance vibe he’s got going on. But hey, I’ve never exactly been one for living the Ibiza party scene so I guess I’m note exactly his target demographic. But this, well this is just awesome. No other word for it. I’d read before that Dizzee Rascal has a theory that ‘Fix Up Look Sharp’ inspired Jay Z and Rick Rubin to record ’99 Problems’ and there are definite similarities. Both tracks are musically pretty simple. All big pounding beats and chugging riffs on repeat. Deceptively bare bases for them to wax lyrical over. So I guess it’s no real surprise that the two tracks mesh so well together. The fact that’s it’s done live just show’s how inspired the whole thing is.

Dizzee Rascal - fix up look sharp vs 99 problems (live session version) original version available on 'Boy In Da Corner'

mp3 / music / dizzee rascal

Some nights I really like to lie awake

2009-08-23T10:45:00.000+01:00

I thought I'd start Sunday with a few tracks from 'Twee:The Musical'.

Sorry, I meant a few tracks from 'God Help The Girl'.

Although I hope you can forgive the confusion because it's essentially the same thing. For Stuart Murdoch's project is a melodramatic kitchen sink story set to a 60s inspired, cutesy girl group backing. A description which I'm guessing has already sent a few people running for the hills screaming. It's been billed as the Belle & Sebastian main man's attempt at to emulate Phil Spector and be the brains behind a girl fronted venture. Though hopefully without the weird behaviour and violent ending. How true the reports are that he ran an X Factor style hunt for the girls to front the project is open to debate but it certainly makes for good copy to garner interest in the whole thing. Which is kind of ironic considering that interest in it is one thing I'm struggling to find.

I mean don't get me wrong, there's nothing particularly wrong with this record, it's just that it's very easy to forget you're listening to it. Distractions are very easy to come by. For this record is what you might call pleasant. Inoffensive. It passes the time nicely without ever really holding your attention or having you rapt with intrigue. I've listened to it numerous times now and would struggle to hum you a single tune or recite even one lyric. Which is weird because even out of the context of the story, these live session performances are catchy and enjoyable songs. But that's all they are and after they're finished, you're left with nothing.

Ultimately I think this record fails by being too good at what it's attempting to do. Stuart Murdoch set out to produce a modern 1960s musical and he's succeeded. But it just feels too clinical. Like he's followed a set of instructions to the letter and forgotten to add any life or soul into it. Rather than paying respect to the girl groups and msucial style that he clearly has a fondness for, he's created a clone of them. There's no heart or real emotion. You don't have any sympathy or empathy for the characters in the story which leaves the whole thing as an empty shell of a record. It sounds a bit like Belle & Sebastian. Certainly has the feel of a West End production. And you can definitely imagine these songs being performed by actors on a stage somewhere. So as far as being a successful project, you can't deny that it ticks all the boxes. As for being a successful record, well that's a different matter. And I think that might be where my problem with this record lies. Ultimately, 'God Help The Girl' feels like a cast recording of a production. It's well produced but ultimately fails to engage on any level other than admiration.

God Help The Girl - baby's just waiting (live session version) original version available on 'God Help The Girl'

God Help The Girl - go help the girl (live session version) original version available on 'God Help The Girl'

God Help The Girl - the psychiatrist is in (live session version) original version available on 'God Help The Girl'

mp3 / music / god help the girl

Can I stay here for a while

2009-08-20T11:20:00.001+01:00

In truth, I wasn’t expecting much from the Julian Plenti album.

Let’s be honest, a few songs aside, the last Interpol album was mostly underwhelming.

Add to that the awkward, post modern pseudonym and almost un-broken rule that records by singers gone solo tend to be utterly unremarkable and incredibly self indulgent and you’ve got a recipe for mass disappointment. So with that in mind, I’m finding myself pleasantly surprised by ‘Julian Plenti Is Skyscraper’. Inevitably, it ends up sounding a bit like Interpol. It can’t help but do that. Paul Banks’ vocals are so distinctive and such an intrinsic part of the band that it’s near impossible to separate the two. It doesn’t help that certain tracks sound like warmed up leftovers from the day job. Indeed, the first two tracks sound almost exactly how you’d expect a solo record by the singer of Interpol to sound. A kind of musical comfort blanket for both the artist and fans. A buffer zone that ushers you comfortably into the dark post punk territory recognisably occupied by Interpol. There are some keyboard flourishes and flecks of electronic sound that on an Interpol record would suggest some progression but really, as ‘Fun That We Have’ chugs to a close, it all seems a bit safe, obvious and predictable.

Song 3 changes everything. It makes the ‘Is’ in the album’s title seem far more important. Julian Plenty IS Skyscraper and the almost title track is where Julian Plenti comes to life. While the opening two songs are reference points to his past, ‘Skyscraper’ is where Julian Plenti steps out of the shadows. It feels like a proper beginning. A kind of musical Year Zero. By rights this should have been where the album started. ‘Skyscraper’ breaks out of the Interpol mould. Building from delicate picked acoustics and minimal strings, it plays for a good couple of minutes before Banks’ softest vocals yet recorded enter the picture. To have started the album here would surely have been a wiser, braver beginning. A clean break from any accusations or references to Interpol. Alas it isn’t and nor does it last. Three minutes later and ‘Games For Days’ signals a hasty, panicked retreat back to the comfort zone.

Not that I’m saying the Interpol like tracks are bad. They’re not. It could be argued that they’d have gone some way to improving ‘Our Love To Admire’. Infact, only ‘Unwind’ could really be described as a bad song. It’s misplaced horns sounding clumsy and not fully thought out amongst a tub thumping percussion and droning guitars. What’s clear is that the strongest and most interesting tracks on ‘Julian Plenti Is Skyscraper’ are the songs that deviate from the safety of his comfort zone. ‘Madrid Song’ is a minimal song played out on the barest of piano chords and melancholic violin. ‘On The Esplanade’ verges on folk, it’s picked refrain constant throughout as snatches of half heard dialogue and wailing violin skip about in the background. While album closer ‘H’ is a haunting, mostly instrumental that wanders in Twin Peaks nourish tension territory.

You can’t help feeling that this record would have made a far better EP. A stronger artistic statement, separating this alias completely from his role in Interpol. As it is, it’s a pretty good album, albeit a frustrating one. Its lack of coherence gives the impression of two records being forced together. The brave one that he really wanted to make and the safe one that he can’t quite bring himself to step away from. The irony of it all, is that had this been released under Interpol’s moniker, it would undoubtedly be seen as a great step forward for the band. Sadly, it kind of ends up feels like a missed opportunity. There are however enough positives in there to suggest the future looks positive for both Julian Plenti and Interpol.

And while you decide whether you agree with me or not, cast your ears over Julian Plenti’s rather lovely and quite unexpected acoustic cover of a Neil Young song.

Julian Plenti - cowgirl in the sand (Neil Young cover live session version)

mp3 / music / julian plenti

I don't care what I find

2009-08-14T09:36:00.002+01:00

Talk about timing.

Or maybe déjà vu.

Here I was getting ready to post these session tracks by The Verve when news comes in that they’ve split up. Again. Or should that be again again? Not that it comes as too much of a surprise. I’m pretty sure that on hearing this news, the world will issue a collective shrug of the shoulders and quickly move on. Personally, The Verve have been dead to me for a while. After listening to the woeful effort that was ‘Forth’ and standing bored through two lacklustre performances at Glastonbury and V, it’s fair to say that their most recent Lazarus-like resurrection had left me feeling decidedly frosty towards the band. The whole thing just seemed like an empty and cynical reformation. Not once did it feel like they were back together for the music. I mean sure, The Verve always had a way of talking the talk but this time there was nothing to back it up. It just came across as empty posturing and hollow bravado. The motivation for getting back together seemed to be rather self serving, fuelled by ego and blinded by arrogance. Judging by some of the comments surrounding the split, it seems that certain members of the band are now feeling this way.

So for the time being this looks like the end of The Verve. Again. Which is kind of ironic because these two tracks hark back to the beginnings of The Verve. All the way back to 1992 in fact. Back when they were just known as Verve. Back when the press referred to Richard Ashcroft as ‘Mad Richard’. A time when his vocals were drenched in reverb and placed lower down in the mix. Floating about in the swirling layers of hypnotic space rock. Back when the band’s music actually backed up the grand proclamations they made about it. All of there early releases are worthy of your time and money and if you don’t own the album ‘A Northern Soul’ then there is a massive gaping hole in your record collection. Forget ‘Urban Hymns’, it’s predecessor is by far the greater record.

So what now for The Verve? Well the cynic in me would suggest they'll be back together in a few years for another round of hatchet burying. But honestly I don't think that's very likely. Richard Ashcroft will no doubt try and kick start his solo career again, while Nick McCabe and Simon Jones have started a new band called The Black Ships. Head over to their Myspace page and you'll find a taster of what we can expect from them. It's too early to go making too much of an opinion but it's fair to say that the 6 minute instrumental jam they've put up bears more than just a passing resemblance to the early psychedelic days of The Verve.

Verve - she's a superstar (live session version) original version available on 'The Verve EP'

Verve - one way to go (live session version) original version available on 'No Come Down'

mp3 / music / the verve

Silhouetted by the setting sun

2009-08-12T11:02:00.001+01:00

It’s taken me a while to write about the new Wilco album because it’s taken me a while to get my head around it.

Not that I’m entirely sure I have.

Experience tells me that almost every Wilco release takes me a good few listens to really get my head around it. I’m not sure why. They just seem to take a while to reveal themselves to me. Always have, maybe always will. I’ve learnt not to make any knee jerk reactions because invariably Wilco’s records don’t click until I’m into at least a few weeks worth of listening. The problem I’m finding with ‘Wilco (The Album)’ is that it seems to be taking longer than usual. Leaving me wondering if it’s ever going to happen. Which in turn leads me to wonder how long I should leave it. How many listens should I give this record before I make any kind of appraisal? And then what if that appraisal is based more on familiarity with the material, than an actual emotional reaction to it?

The problem I think lies with the fact that previous records have found Wilco travelling down a particular path, each record linked by a distinct tone or style. Their latest release however seems to lack that central motif. If anything, it seems to be an amalgamation of all their previous records. A little bit of ‘Being There’. A dash of ‘Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’. A smidgeon of ‘A Ghost Is Born’. And so on and so forth. A kind of greatest hits made up of new songs. It doesn’t see the band try anything new. I mean, sure ‘Sky Blue Sky’ wasn’t exactly a step forward in terms of sonic experimentation and yeah, some reviews accused it of being a bit too MOR and clinical in it’s production. But for me, it was a good record. The band stripping everything back and focusing purely on the craft of songwriting. Rather than a step forward, it was a side step onto a different path. ‘Wilco (The Album)’ on the other hand feels like the band are, if not taking a step backwards, then perhaps just retracing where they’ve walked before.

And maybe that’s why they’ve called it Wilco (The Album). It feels like the band saying this is who we are and this is what we do. Their essence distilled into 11 songs. It’s a record that finds the band playing in their comfort zone. Ticking all the boxes marked Wilco while they take stock of their current position. The problem with that, is that it kind of feels like they’re treading water. And while this is by no means a bad record, it can’t help but feel a little bit disappointing.

Wilco - bull black nova (live session version original version available on Wilco (The Album)

Wilco - you and I (live session version) original version available on Wilco (The Album)

mp3 / music / wilco