Album Review:

Foals
Total Life Forever
Release Date: 10/05/2010


In the last year or so, several bands have transgressed the stereotype of the ‘difficult second album’. The Horrors, for example, came back with a completely new sound – supposedly influenced by eating expired sandwiches from the bins behind Prêt a Manger – stunning the band’s fans and (many) critics alike. Well, if getting ill from eating a bit of soggy lettuce can inspire the conception of Primary Colours, could a series of weekends spent in a weed-clouded room on a strict diet of Psilocybin mushrooms cause similarly astonishing results for David Sitek rejecting, Oxford party-guys Foals?

A first listen finds the album open on familiar math-rock territory, although the pace has dropped and effects are used with greater restraint. Yannis’ vocals here, however, are a cause for genuine surprise; suffice to say, he actually sings! But fear not: what begins as a comfortably stripped-down piece gradually builds until the bass line, like an old friend, kicks in and you find yourself foot-tapping and head-nodding in a way that only the complex layered beats of Foals can make you.

While there’s no shortage of instantly gratifying pop moments – expect to hear one or both of ‘Miami’ and ‘This Orient’ soundtracking all that pill-popping malarkey on ‘Skins’ in the near future – the awkward, static beats and riffs which dominated Antidotes are largely replaced by refined, carefully constructed melodies and, at times, the kinds of textures you’d more commonly associate with shoegaze. Indeed, as though to flesh this point and perhaps complete the analogy with The Horrors, first single and stand-out track ‘Spanish Sahara’ is to Total Life Forever what ‘Sea within a Sea’ is to Primary Colours. Not only does the song showcase some of the most haunting lyrics this band have ever written (“Forget the horror here, leave it all down here, it’s future rust, it’s future dust”) but they complement and intensify the song’s over-powering eeriness as it builds towards its climax and, likewise, mark its sudden decline (“a choir of furies in your head”).

Total Life Forever then, is something of a classic ‘side A/side B’ LP. If its first half belongs on the indie club dancefloor, its more intricate and sombre second half demands dedicated listening; but crucially, both are hugely rewarding.

8/10

By Nathan Marks

Album Review:

Jaga Jazzist
One Armed Bandit
Release Date: 25/01/10


In the five years since Jaga’s last LP, What We Must, no band has come close to imitating their sound: schizophrenic progressive electro-jazz with added drum and bass, post-rock, minimalism… and just about every other genre around. The Norwegian collective has defied expectations with One-Armed Bandit – and turned its own style on its head once again. WWM was edgier and placed emphasis on live instrumentation over electronic bleeps and beats, whilst OAB finds a happy medium; in the title track driving drums, cascading horns and a medieval-sounding kalimba interact with a fuzzy synth bassline and psychedelic electronic screeches. As the arpeggiated melody effortlessly passes between instruments, the piece showcases the dazzling array of styles Jaga have swallowed up – drummer and bandleader Lars Horntveth cites Fela Kuti, Wagner and Frank Zappa as heavy influences. Recognisable Jaga textures and timbres are refreshed by an expanded musical repertoire – the grungy synths and glassy, Steve Reich-esque polyrhythms that begin 'Toccata' are later underpinned by a powerful brass refrain and energetic afrobeat drums.

The experimental jazz-rock influence is perhaps most obvious; the title track takes a gasp of breath with an atmospheric guitar slide before launching back into staccato glockenspiel and oozing bass, evoking Zappa’s 'I’m the Slime'. The piece thuds and gallops into a bridge that significantly ups the tempo, racing at breakneck speed towards a thundering climax in which the pass-the-parcel melodies collide in a satisfying and awe-inspiring way. Another highlight is the slow-burning '220 V / Spektral', which opens with a delicate piano trill and muted guitar, immediately shifting to a tense 3/4 section, all reverb and breathy woodwind, before a spacey krautrock chorus. 'Music! Dance! Drama!' recalls 2002’s 'Day', with analog beats, bassline and string plucks mutated by twisted brass, labyrinthine harpsichord and affected guitar.

Jaga Jazzist leads the listener on a tantalising journey through space and time – at times to a completely new, undiscovered planet. It takes a few attempts to keep up with the hundreds of ideas thrown into the album, and it is the sheer ambition poured into each track that will, I suspect, divide audiences. One-Armed Bandit is, like Jaga Jazzist’s earlier work, a musical feast – but as a result it is eccentric and boundary breaking, and its constant framework of excitement-tension-release into further excitement may be unpopular with many. Those who appreciate it will learn to love the album and return, time and time again – finding new dimensions to every track on each occasion.

9/10

By Bengee Gibson

Live Review:

Fionn Regan (support: Francis Leftwich, Danny and the Champions of the World)
Fibbers, York
14/02/2010


A gig by sweethearts' favourite Fionn Regan is perhaps not the best place to spend a lonely Valentines day. Still, it's not every week that someone you've heard of plays York, so in the interests of music journalism your intrepid ((URY)) reporter did her best to blank out the couples eating each others faces to check out this rare event.

The first support is local Yorkshire lad Benjamin Francis Leftwich, who we're pleased to report was really rather good. A veritable embryo of nineteen tender years, Leftwich performs the impressive feat of commanding the attention of a packed Fibbers with his thoughtful folky tunes. We suspect he's one to watch.

Danny and the Champions of the World is one of the best band names we've ever heard, so it was a huge disappointment when their singer strode on wearing a trilby, popularly understood in sartorial semiotics as the universal sign of a class A twat (see also: Kaiser Chiefs). Predictable hooks degenerated into ten-minute country jam yawnfests about mountains and sheep or something, whilst the singer performed a series of facial contortions that we think were meant to show that he was a Serious Musician but in fact gave the more apt impression that he was extruding an especially satisfying turd.

A sense of relief descended when the lovely Mr Regan toddled onstage, sporting an oversized train drivers' hat which he removed to reveal an experimental bowl cut style last seen on scabby-kneed ten year olds in school playgrounds around 1970. It was excellent and we're already placing bets on it becoming the next Hot Indie Look. Regan's set is drawn mostly from his new album, Shadow of an Empire, which we're still rather wary of. The lyrics are flawless, as poetic and perceptive as we've come to expect from this former Mercury winner, but by treading the path towards a poppier, country aesthetic as fellow indie darlings Conor Oberst and Ben Kweller have done, Regan loses the understated charm and intimacy of his earlier records. Still, props to him for not producing an exact copy of his first record and maybe we just need to give it a few more listens. Tonight's spine-tingling performance of new track Violent Demeanour certainly suggests there's more to the new material than first meets the ear.

By Hannah Boast

Album Review:

The Soft Pack
The Soft Pack
Release Date: 01/02/2010


The punk purists and cynics among us must have been disappointed with The Soft Pack’s decision to change their name from The Muslims to their current moniker. Maybe it’s a sign of the times when the latest upstarts on the scene back down after a little negative attention; but at least this San Diego four-piece haven’t compromised anything about their intelligent brand of garage rock in so doing. This, The Soft Pack's self-titled second release, defies all ‘sophomore slump’ theorists by delivering 32 minutes of pop punk fun.

Pacey opener and first single, ‘C’mon’, sets the tone for much of the rest of the record. Matt Lamkin’s delivery is charged with urgency but leaves just enough room for the pointed, matter-of-fact observations characteristic of the band’s strongest lyrics; and it’s also clear that The Soft Pack have matured as musicians, apparent here in the impressive lead guitar work of Matty Mcloughlin, showing that this group can offer more than just a catchy power chord structure.

The decision to collaborate with producer Eli Jamney has resulted in The Soft Pack gaining a more complex texture to their sound (see especially: ‘Pull Out’, ‘Down On Loving’ and ‘Move Along’), particularly with the inclusion of organs and acoustic guitars. This is a welcome change for a band that has sometimes been guilty of sinking into garage rock monotony, marked by the overuse of reverb-tinged surf guitar and a ‘driving’ rhythm section. Tellingly, even on this release it is the songs lacking these new sonic subtleties that are the most disappointing. As the album streaks towards ‘Tides of Time’ and ‘Flammable’, you’re left with the sense that The Soft Pack are running out of steam; the former lacks punch, whilst the latter is a virtual carbon copy of ‘Move Along’ – minus the playful organ motifs and wonderfully discordant solo. Thankfully, The Soft Pack redeem themselves with the stoned-beach-holiday dreaminess of penultimate track, ‘Mexico’; built around a lilting Latin bass line, it brings a much needed change of pace before the head-banging resumes with closing track ‘Parasites’.

Although The Soft Pack aren’t offering anything especially innovative here, they are (as the saying goes) ‘doing what they do best’. These songs are anthems for the kids. The Soft Pack have followed a tried and tested formula – but they’ve done so with enough poise, intelligence and charisma to warrant serious attention.

8/10

By José Carbajo

((URY)) Dance #1

D1 – Jus Business / Pitcher (Dub Police)

D1 (otherwise known as Dwayne Marsh) has been releasing music since July 2005. He has not, however, brought out tracks regularly during this time. The excellent Jus Business / Pitcher stands testament to this by being his first 12” since the 2008 EP, V3. Both tracks are of equal quality, with D1 showing his mastery of an impressive range of production styles throughout. 'Jus Business', which takes its title as well as many samples from lines spoken by the character Stringer Bell in TV’s The Wire, is particularly noteworthy in this respect; mixing a Grime-style beat and Dubstep percussion, and introducing House piano lines and beats later. 'Pitcher' is a different animal altogether. Having started off sounding like a classic UK Funky track, it builds tension with synth washes before bringing out an Untold-esque pitch-bending hook. A highly recommended release.




DVA – Natty / Ganja (Hyperdub)

DVA (otherwise known as Scratcha) marks his first release on Kode 9’s highly respected Hyperdub label with the somewhat inconsistent Natty / Ganja 12”. 'Ganja' is the stronger track of the two, combining vocal samples, a pitch-bending hook, together with a strong House bassline and keyboard stabs – all to great effect. It comes across as both laid-back and dance-ready, and the Tropical beat points to the wide geographical spread of DVA’s influences. 'Natty' is weak by comparison, its complex structure never really developing into anything compelling. It almost feels incomplete – as though in need of a hook or a piece of melody to give it some warmth. There is, however, more than ample evidence on the basis of this release that DVA is a promising talent worth following in the future.




Kingdom – Mind Reader (Fool’s Gold)

Fool’s Gold presents Mind Reader from Kingdom, a release that doesn’t pull any punches. Although we’re basically presented with a couple of ‘old’ tunes from Kingdom’s extensive archive, there’s no denying that the material on show is all killer and no filler. Big, brash and unsubtle – and with remixes from L-Vis 1990, Bok Bok and Todd Edwards – there’s much to admire, regardless of where on the sliding scale of UK Funky, Garage and House you stand. Of the remixes, the L-Vis 1990 edit is the most powerful; full of rhythmic energy and sub bass pressure, this one is pure dancefloor fire. Todd Edwards provides a classically-styled House excursion but if R’n’B vocals don’t float your boat, there’s a dub version thrown in to boot. Also well worth checking out is the b-side, 'You'. Being more House than Garage or Funky, 'You' shows off some of the versatility of the Night Slugs new boy. Definitely one to watch out for.




Jack Luckett & Simon Burrell (Idioteque, Pipedown)

Live Review:

Marble Valley (support: Player 1, The Standbys)
York City Screen Basement
27/01/10


Steve West is not, I suggest, a man that takes himself very seriously. Maybe it’s a side-effect of having played in one of the most influential rock bands in history – in that you wouldn’t feel you had a lot left to prove to anyone – but West positively exudes a sense of high jinks just waiting to happen. A case in point: having allowed his band to kick-start proceedings with a comically lengthy instrumental medley, an already heavily inebriated West finally emerges, not from backstage but from the bar – and with a tray of tequila shots held gingerly between both hands.

Let’s be straight: Marble Valley do not make brilliantly interesting music. There’s more than the occasional flash of the sardonic lyrical stylings and loose, by turns sludgy and twee, sonic approach of Pavement (in particular, see ‘Computer Man’); although it’s all tempered by an obvious fondness for the sort of FX-based weirdness epitomized by much of The Flaming Lips’ work circa Transmissions From The Satellite Heart.

What Marble Valley does have going for it, however, is Steve West the frontman. He shakes and shimmies, he rattles a maraca, he swings the microphone; he is a walking encyclopedia of rock ‘n roll power poses – only, it’s all performed by a man that looks disquietingly similar to The Bear from Bo’ Selecta (albeit with more facial hair). Marble Valley are an absolute riot live and this is in no small part down to the general air of jovial, good natured abandon pervading the show.

By Lachlan Marais-Gilchrist

* * *

((URY)) Music attempt to interview Steve West, with mixed results: http://ury-music.blogspot.com/2010/02/interview-steve-west-pavement-silver.html

Album Review:

Gil Scott-Heron
I'm New Here
Release Date: 08/02/2010


In the seventeen years since his last record Spirits, Gil Scott-Heron has become a fallen icon of popular music. His socio-political poetry and songs reached out in the 1970s to a generation of disillusioned Americans, his influence spreading through jazz, funk, soul, blues and rap – the latter being a genre he is often accredited with helping to found. It was in prison, serving one of the many drugs-related sentences that have plagued his life, that he was approached by XL owner Richard Russell to record what would become I’m New Here. A 28-minute work comprising four covers, some original monologues and offcuts from recording sessions: this album is, musically and lyrically, a far cry from the protest acid-jazz of his 70s heyday.

Beginning and ending with a two-part tribute to his grandmother, ‘On Coming From a Broken Home’, it is clear that the artist has turned his attention inwards, to the matter of his own demons. There’s further evidence of this shift in the personalised versions of Robert Johnson’s ‘Me and the Devil’ and Bobby Bland’s ‘I’ll Take Care of You’, the one transformed into a trip-hop stomper pierced by Scott-Heron’s roaring, audibly ravaged voice; the other seeing him revive his famous baritone for a more familiar-sounding soulful ballad. The latter of these two particularly stands out. Sparse instrumentation – kick drum, vibrato strings and piano – introduce a weary, pained voice that can’t fail to stir a sublime nostalgia in the listener. Another key musical offering is ‘New York is Killing Me’, in which the album’s glitchy and otherwise gloomy ambience is complemented by handclaps, cymbal crashes and a gospel choir. It is unlike anything Scott-Heron has ever done, and is all the more rewarding for it; his voice is being treated in new ways, in new contexts.

Throughout the album, we find Scott-Heron in especially meditative and unforgiving mood; but whilst pieces such as ‘The Crutch’ are memorable as showcases for Scott-Heron’s unique poetic talents, their arrangements are uninspiring and, frankly, overbearing. Worse still, stripping away the electronic arrangements conceivably leaves us with the mere bare bones of an album: excerpts from Scott-Heron’s writings, rehashes of old ideas (‘Your Soul and Mine’) and a few successful re-workings of others’ songs. As a whole, it feels neither satisfactory nor satisfying. Here’s hoping this album will mark the resurgence of Scott-Heron’s career. It should not, however, be celebrated as a true return to prominence.

6/10

By Bengee Gibson