Tuesday 21 November 2023

New(ish) music - October 2023

I admit that I haven’t given the playlist as many listens as I normally do - this month I have taken many a dark mindquest in my search for profundity and wisdom.

Still, betwixt and between my attempts to become a grim and mirthless man of consequence, I have found time to give TFJ a spin, usually when doing chores. It’s hard to embody a bleak manifestation of unsmiling angst when doing the dishes, you know!


Let’s hit shuffle…


Lemon Firebrigade - Haircut 100

You know what this one reminds me of? A past entry onto this playlist called ‘Falling and Laughing’ by Orange Juice. And who chose it? Yours truly. Inevitable I was going to love this. Bright and bouncy new wave with a brush of exotica from an album that I properly rate. There’s an inherent joy to this music that cuts through even on the rainiest October afternoons. One of the best platters this month.


HSKT - Sylvan Esso

I’m not sure the lyrical content does a huge amount for me, but the rather abrasive lockstep electro certainly does. I like the way it rubs up against a rather carefree-sounding vocal - and that’s a cool voice, no? It’s got a bit of character to it. I’m not sure if I could take a whole album of this jive, but as a singular playlist track it’s a wonderful palate cleanser. Great in the car, another place where I struggle to be a man of dismal consequence.


Above All - Bastardane

Great band name…great song? It’s a yes from me! I like the raucous, bruising sound - this one’s a chunky old dumptruck of a tune, shouldering its way through the crowd. Although it’s evidently a modern production there’s an almost classic metal slant to the proceedings. I wonder if this passes Jason’s sniff test, namely, that it sounds like the band could beat him up? I don’t know what’s going on there, I’ll leave it to someone more qualified than me to comment on his obvious psychosexual confusion!


See You Next Fall - All Them Witches

I saw these chaps with Ollie when they supported Ghost. Then, it sounded like they were channelling Tony Iommi circa Mob Rules era Sabbath. Here, it kicks off like an Uncle Acid deepcut but quickly (well, as quick as this kind of ponderous stoner-groove can go) evolves into a sound universe that wouldn’t sound out of place on an Alice In Chains album. A band that adroitly uses space in their sound, with the insistent, hypnotic bass anchoring everything. Very suited to gloomy visionquesting.


Beef Bologna - FEAR

If you haven’t seen Penelope Spheeris’ documentary Decline and Fall of Western Civilisation Part II, set in the glam rock gutters of Los Angeles, go and do so. If you have seen it, go and watch Part I, which is set in the hardcore scene. FEAR come across as particularly unpleasant individuals but, along with X, they have quite a regard for classic rock ‘n’ roll. Just how far removed is this really from the Cramps, the Stray Cats or even Gene Vincent? Not a million miles. Solid knockabout fun.


Needles and Pins - The Searchers

As somebody who grew up on a diet of Classic Gold radio, this particular track formed part of the warp and weave of my childhood. Impossible, then, to make a considered critique of a song that soundtracked a more innocent age. It sounds like I’m seventy years old, I realise. So listening to this was a proper Werther’s Original moment, but trying to push past the jumpers for goalposts, etc., it’s just a lovely, chiming pop song with just the tiniest hint of melancholy. Beautiful.


Ride Low - OTTTO

Great band name…great song? Yeah, I suppose so. I liked it just fine, especially the kicky, scuzzy guitar riffing. For some reason the singing didn’t quite resonate with me. The vocalist sounds like someone else, but for the life of me I cannot quite recall who. However, I have worked out who the main riff reminds me of - Cirith Ungol! And Cirith Ungol whip ass, so despite the little bit of static I get with the crooning, this one falls on the side of the angels.


Hate Song - The Haunted

I saw these guys during ‘metal week’ at university, where I saw The Haunted, Lamb of God, Sepultura and Motorhead in the span of six days. These guys played my student union, where I could otherwise be found busting moves to Fatman Scoop, and let me tell you I had the tar beaten out of me in the pit. This song reminds me why - absolutely unrelenting, it sounds like a diesel powered dragon laying waste to a small country, like Luxembourg or Rwanda. ‘Hate Song’ feels a bit on-the-nose for sledgehammer metal of this ilk - a bit like the elbows that repeatedly caught me in the face at this gig!


I Threw Glass at My Friend’s Eyes and Now I’m On Probation - Destroy Boys

Destroy Boys is too good a moniker for a group that makes a song this irritating. I like the music alright - in fact, if this was an instrumental I’d have a much higher regard for it. This wasn’t the mid-month frowny face - alas, this is a song that started to grate on me as the days wore on. I genuinely think I lost a few IQ points honing in on the lyrics. Are these guys worth pursuing further?


Mach 5 - Presidents of the United States of America

Is this my pick of the month? It might well be. An almost perfect balance of sugar and spice here - really hooky, a keen pop sensibility married to a breezy variety of good-time rockin’ out. Hell, even the ‘quiet’ spoken(ish) section absolutely works within the context. This should be the song they’re known for. Another joint that is made twenty percent better when you’re operating a motor vehicle. Love it, love it, love it.


No Vampires Remain in Romania (Dracula Spectacular) - King Luan

What the fuck is this? I can’t even find it within me to be charitable on Halloween.


Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

The hardest song to conjure up from memory here - and even when replaying it again, now I struggle to remind myself as to where the music is going. At least that bloody vampire song stuck in the brain banks. This wasn’t unpleasant at all, and in fact the slightly astringent instrumentation isn’t half bad to listen to at all. So many indie bands sound like this, right down to the little two-note solo that makes an appearance. What’s the deal with that?


Saturday 18 November 2023

New(ish) music - August 2023

Another roundup of 'Two for Joy' - a collaborative playlist with a group of friends, where we listen to and rate each other's musical picks. We're all rapidly approaching middle age.

Ah - the long, languid days of August - the perfect time to kick back with a spot o’ Two for Joy, and perhaps a glass of something cold. Except that August was a right old pudding of a month, and I don’t tend to take any time off anyway; I neither have children nor any natural resistance to the sun, and thus take my leave outside of the holiday season.

One thing I did do, however, was give TFJ a few spins - and so here are my impressions:

It’s Gettin’ Better (Man!!) - Oasis

As a few of you know, Britpop almost entirely passed me by, so save for the big beasts of the genre I’m all at sea with this music. We’ve had a bit on TFJ, and as a matter of fact one of the Oasis tracks (‘Lyla’ I think) was ace. This ain’t ace. It’s alright, perfectly listenable, but it failed to set my heart aflame. I echo the sentiments so far observed, that this feels a little paint-by-numbers in terms of Oasis. Also, song length doesn’t usually feature in my plaints, but if I may bleat about it, this could be shorn by a minute or two and lose none of its impact.

The Narcissist - Blur

A marginally more musically inventive song than the Oasis track, except that I keep thinking it’s about to break into U2’s ‘Beautiful Day’. However, there’s one aspect of this track that really stinks it up for me, and it’s Damon Albarn’s lugubrious vocal delivery. Listen, there are a couple of sadsack singers out there who I actively like, but Albarn has such an unmusical, hangdog delivery that it hamstrings the entire track. Not that I am massively impressed with the whole kit and caboodle but, fuck me, Albarn’s voice belongs in a museum next to Glenn Hoddle’s.

Crows - Charlotte Greig

Lovely. Hard to say anything else, really; a beautiful, live and extremely human performance that manages to be both sweet and haunting. What do I think the crows represent? I genuinely have no idea, which is part of the appeal - there appears to be a deep mystery lurking at the heart of this little song. Is it about depression? Death? Psychosis? All of these? None of these? Am I going to continue writing solely in rhetorical questions? I’ve said it before, but the unadorned voice can be one of the more affecting instruments out there.

SLAY!! - Paledusk, Hideyoshi

When you’re in the right mood, this madcap mishmash of genre, instrumentation and mood can be an extremely fun white-knuckler, but equally it has the capacity to harrow. I don’t think I could take more than a track or two of this stuff in any given go, but one can’t deny the energy, animating spirit and sheer ambition to throw almost anything at the wall in the hope that some of it sticks. You can hear hip-hop, Pendulum, nu-metal and techno in the mix, all often within the span of a few seconds. Chalk me up as a (qualified) fan.

The Batman Theme - Danny Elfman

As I was driving into work one day, this came on; and the part where it ramps up into what sounds like a fanfare hit just as I was cresting a hill, and it made me feel invincible. Listening to film music divorced from its original context is a peculiar exercise - for example, I love Jarre’s music for both Dr Zhivago and Lawrence of Arabia, but especially with the latter, I cannot hear the overture without the long-pan across the desert sands, sound and vision in perfect harmony. In this instance, though, I don’t have that same familiarity, to my listening benefit. What I get here is an urgent, goth-tinged fantasia that really stirs something within. Should I put an Oingo Boingo track on the playlist some day?

We Were Never Really Friends - Bruno Major

We’ve had Bruno Major on before now, yes? I vaguely recall a slightly jazzy, quiet-stormish track a few years ago. It didn’t leave much of an impression - as opposed to this, which is my favourite track of the month. I’ve enjoyed hearing it dissected - especially its structural kinship to ‘God Only Knows’ - but I’m also hearing a little George Harrison in the guitar, a bit of ELO balladry in the chord progression and, strangely, ‘Don’t Let It Show’ by the Alan Parsons Project. All to the good, because I’m the closest thing to an Alan Parsons Project ultra that exists. I bleed for I, Robot. I would kill a man over Tales of Mystery and Imagination. Anyway, this lilting slice of melancholia is gorgeous, and there’s a part of the guitar solo, right at the end, that is so tasty I skipped dinner.

Old Friend - Allman Brothers

Absolutely nothing new with this - it’s slide blues played on acoustic guitar. However, what’s novelty when the execution is so sublime? Derek Trucks is, like Warren Haynes, a guy I could listen to mithering away at the pentatonic scale all damn weekend. So, once we’re past the beautifully tasteful guitar, we’ve got, what? A vocal that combines honey and smoke in equal measure. When he sings “Can’t you hear the cold wind?” I swear I felt a little prickling of the skin.

10,000 Years - High On Fire

I have only seen High On Fire once. I was stood in the pouring rain, in a field in Sweden, hungover, clutching a rapidly cooling cup of coffee, with a miserable Swiss girl who, it seemed, had bought a ticket to a festival dedicated to music she actively disliked. The moment High On Fire slammed into the first couple of bars, everything changed - the coffee tasted great, the rain felt like a noble benediction, and who gives a hoot about Switzerland anyway? I have a rather particular sweet spot for this kind of doomy stoner metal, and 10,000 Years is to be found right in its nexus. I just love how it sounds like the notes are stacking on top of each other in the main riff, as if an edifice of heavy metal could be created by sheer force of will.

Can’t Kill Us All - No Man

This fella sure is exercised about something. This one grew on me. The first couple of listens felt like hard yards, but then there’s a kind of wavelength I found I tuned into that made sense of the noise and fury. I still can’t say it’s one I’d actively follow up with - it is a bit intense and splashy for my tastes - but again, it has a sincerity and almost brutal singularity of purpose that is probably easier to admire than it is to like.

Pain - The War on Drugs

If a song could be said to glimmer, or glisten, it’s this one. There’s a soft refulgence to the sound universe it inhabits, as if the swirl of guitars were able to emit a faint neon glow. Putting aside the rather gorgeous quality of the production, the song has a timeless quality that draws upon jangle-pop but also the laidback, sleep-eyed Americana of Tom Petty or Bob Seger. Yes, really! Which gives it quite a grown up quality, as I maintain that Bob Seger is an unknown pleasure until a person hits thirty. At which point you’re handed a crumbling spine, a working knowledge of the layout of your local IKEA and an instinctual understanding of ‘Night Moves’.

New Heart Design - Turnstile

One of this month’s highlights - but an odd duck, no? The verses sound like a slightly postmodern version of Duran Duran, but the chorus sounds like a snotty late 1990s pop-punker. And you can dance to it! There’s even a little wibbly-wobbly bit right at the end in case you were really craving some Mac DeMarco. A hard one to summarise, because just when you think you’ve got a handle on wuss’ bappin’, it’s over and done.

Point and Kill - Little Simz, Obongjayar

I confess that my first spin of this passed me by, and I imagine numbers two and three did as well. However, this has a really insidious quality to it - the insistence of the groove, the push-pull of the different vocals, Little Simz’s sinuous flow - which led to this track really getting under my skin. By the end of the month it was one of the tracks I eagerly anticipated in the shuffle. I love the brass coming in when it does, adding a different texture to proceedings, a kind of brightness and clarity to what is quite a moody, murky backing. A song I started off not caring for, but ultimately loving? That’s Two for Joy, baby.

New(ish) music- June 2023

Below are my reviews to the June 2023 playlist that myself and six friends do; each month we put two tracks on a playlist and, at the end of the month, either meet up virtually to discuss / review / roast as appropriate; or, on occasions when we can't meet, provide written reflections or voice notes.

A word on my two picks for this month - the first, ‘Hodja’ by Todd Rundgren, falls into the category of curio. Rundgren is an eccentric genre-hopper at the best of times, but for this tune (and indeed, the whole A Cappella album) he recorded a diverse collection of songs using his voice alone. This, in the pre-digital era - the most powerful tool at his disposal was an early sampler called the E-mu Emulator. A monstrous task without digital technology, then; even the ‘handclaps’ on ‘Hodja’ are the layered, compressed sound of Rundgren clicking his tongue.

My other pick was ‘I’m A Man’ by Jobriath - a guy who fell into such obscurity that when Morrissey tried to book him when curating an All Tomorrow’s Parties festival, he didn’t realise he’d been dead nigh on twenty years. Jobriath was a former child keyboard prodigy who was hyped to the rafters as America’s answer to David Bowie - and he was gay. Openly gay, in fact, probably before any other rock musician. This whole album is a treat, an overblown, theatrical fantasy that probably edges closer to the collaborations between Jim Steinman and Meat Loaf than anything Bowie ever did. Jobriath died, penniless, of AIDS in 1983.

Okay, time to hit shuffle on this bad boy…

I Can’t Party - Vulfmon

I think I’ve registered my wariness when it comes to humour in music, and my antennae started vibrating immediately; and frankly, it’s not my kind of thing. This flavour of fun is only a step away from that rather deadpan ‘uh, THAT just happened’ seam of joking that makes me wish I didn’t have ears or eyes. Nonetheless, there’s enough silliness and charm here to coast by, and the music sounds like a mutant Donald Fagen number, so in an oblique way I enjoyed it. Bonus points for mentioning Don Rickles.

Gans Media Retro Games - Hot Mulligan

Going by track record I should be in the hater category, so can I shock you? I really like this. There’s a crunch and springiness to the music that I can get behind, buoyed by an expansive production. The singing is a riot too, just stomping over everything with the exuberance of a sugar-dosed toddler.

30 Under 13 - Better Loves

Again, I know I’ve typified some of the music of this ilk as ‘sweaty’ and ‘tryhard’ in the past; but this hairdryer of double-bass pedal drumming and diamond-hard riffing got under my skin. There’s a discipline and precision to it that reminds me of the death metal-prog of late-era Death, which is no bad thing. They even throw a proper ripping little guitar solo into the mix. Heavy metal that sounds like a dozen car alarms going off - what’s not to like?

You Keep Running Away - The Four Tops

Hall of famer. This is right in the Motown sweet spot for me - a little past the era where the pop hits sounded a bit formative, but before the label’s big beasts decided to get all introspective (though that’s good, too - I mean, who could clown on mid-1970s Marvin Gaye, Smokey Robinson and Stevie Wonder?). The singing is outstanding, the arrangements are funky and the horn parts that typified this moment in Motown history are catnip to me - they absolutely sizzle here. Best thing I’ve heard in an age.

Good Hands - Jason Cruz and Howl

Sad to say that this is the most anonymous of all the picks this month. It’s a fairly pleasant, fairly bouncy pop-rock number. Fine. A few key components are missing - you know, a decent hook, a degree of character and any hint of inspiration.

All and Everything - Spidergawd

Candidate for worst band name this month, but I found myself absorbed with this odd musical chimera. I’m all for bands shoehorning slightly offbeat instrumentation into their signature sound, and they really make the saxophone work in this vaguely NWOBHMish alt. rock. Ghost managed a sax lead on their last decent album. Aren’t both bands Scandinavian? What is in the water / Pripps BlĂ„ over there, eh? Anyway, had a pretty gnarly edge to it and made for premium driving music. With this pumping out of the Failwagon, my opps at badminton had no chance.

The Corner’s Dilemma - Free Throw

Eh, has its moments - but lest you think I’ve been kidnapped and replaced a la Invasion of the Bodysnatchers, quite reliably I don’t really dig this. The chorus is pretty kicky, and I am simpatico to the animating spirit behind this (and indeed, much emo music) but the execution often leaves me cold. For a bunch of noise merchants, doesn’t it come across as a bit wet sometimes? A miasma of ‘arrested development’ hangs about this track, alas. What happens when emos age out, I wonder? Do they all get into jazz?

II. Worldstar - Childish Gambino

This goes all over the place, in the best way - seemingly also incorporating soundclips from a couple of those ‘Worldstar’ videos that the internet was freighted with about fifteen or so years ago. Oh, and we’ve got another saxophone guy! Luckily, this never slips into the kind of lassitude that a lot of rap that incorporates jazzy elements can do - blame Souls of Mischief or De La Soul back in the day for this innovation, but some of the more recent stuff is boggin’. The same criticisms were levelled against Steely Dan though - wah wah, why are these wiseacres playing augmented chords in muh rawk music? Well, guess who’s the baby now? Me.

In Spite of Ourselves - John Prine and Iris DeMent

A gentle lollop through the vagaries of growing old but - gosh darn it! - keeping the embers of love a-glowing. Can I play the spoiler here? It’s all so confoundedly folksy. Too folksy! We’re into hyper-folksy territory, folks. Everything from the tastefully picked guitar, through the vocal inflections and right on to the cloying sentimentality of it all…uh. This is the kind of jive I should, by rights, be fully behind, but instead it has me reaching for the sickbag. 

Notorious - Duran Duran

If ever a band should be fully and completely rehabilitated in terms of critical re-evaluation, it’s Duran Duran. Superb musicians all, but a trot through their discography reveals a jaw-dropping facility with slick, punchy pop songs. No exception here. The production dates the song, for sure, but I mean that in a neutral sense, because a bright, crisp sound is exactly what this kind of smart, lightly funky sound deserves. Give ‘Notorious’ the respect it deserves and run it through a good set of speakers. Also, dare I say that Simon Le Bon’s yelp contains more angst than any of our more explicitly emo offerings this month?

Calling Elvis - Dire Straits

Ah, a kind of space-age hoedown from Dire Straits’ cocaine-and-synths era. This is off their last album, I think? Not a great record, though it does contain ‘Iron Hand’, an anti-Thatcher song about the Battle of the Beanfield that somehow wound up in a Nintendo compilation album I happen to own. ‘Iron Hand’ is good, as is ‘Calling Elvis’; good without scraping the firmament. I do have a soft spot for musicians doing songs about other artists, so I got a kick out of Mark Knopfler muttering truncated lines of Elvis lyrics over big guitar and keyboard washes. I love the guitar tones throughout. My one real beef is that I know what Dire Straits were capable of - and this sounds a little flabby in comparison with their early stuff like ‘Lady Writer’ and even ‘Sultans of Swing’, which contrasted the sweetness of Knopfler’s fluent playing with a dash of vim and vigour. I suspect Mark Knopfler talks in exactly the same voice he sings in. 

Cadaver Pouch Conveyor System - Carcass

Is there a little nod to Venom here? Whatever, this absolutely kills it. It’s antisocial enough to bother the neighbours but that imperative is twinned with a really strong sense of melodic invention. There is a restless quality to the guitar work - I take it the great Bill Steer is at the helm, so I’m thoroughly unsurprised. Frankly, this crams so much into four minutes that I’m always left mildly exhausted after a listen - but that’s never been enough to prevent the dandruff from flying!

On to next month, boys - vorwarts immer, ruckwarts nimmer!

Sunday 25 June 2023

New(ish) music - February 2023

Every month me and six other pals create a playlist for each other consisting of 14 tracks. Now and again, when we cannot meet to talk through our selections, I send some mini reviews. Below are my comments on the playlist for February 2023.

At one stage this evening I was simultaneously watching the FA Cup Rooneys on television, picking my way through the Electric Light Orchestra’s back catalogue on my acoustic guitar and, every now and again, listening to G ruminating on why he doesn’t like Wild Man Fischer. Is this what the technological determinist Neil Postman was talking about when he said we were “entertaining ourselves to death”? Anyway, on to the main monkey business of reviewing this month - gonna hit shuffle and scribble down my thoughts in the order they’re spat out. Only two things at once - why, I’ve practically become a 21st century minimalist!

Not Needed Anymore - Louis Cole

Wiry acoustic guitar paired with peculiarly airless singing - one is left with the impression of some mid-sized rodent with asthma. Still, there’s a nagging quality to the song in the best way - it’s the chorus hook that lodges itself in the brain like a bubblegum-flavoured shard of shrapnel. And then - whoosh! - it’s gone, just before the catchiness mutates into a maddening irritant.

Don’t Dance - Anthony Green
There was a moment in the midst of G’s review where it was just words - something about Coho Labs and a bunch of bands I’ve never heard of - genuinely, you could be transmitting code to your CIA handlers at that point and I’d have been none the wiser. I always thought this was a dude singing, because it sounds like an emo Daniel Johnston. Well, this is pretty good; I’ve long been a sucker for rock ‘n’ pop that employs a decent brass section. My beef, and it applies to a fair amount of music of this ilk, is that it sounds just a wee bit antiseptic. 

stream of silllver - the ollam

Whoever thought to combine the audio palette of New Romantic synthpop with Irish folk music was having an inspired day. This track had me kicking myself, because every time it started up I’d think “huh, I don’t recall any Kajagoogoo on this month’s playlist”, and then the pipes would start up and I realised I’d been hoodwinked. Every time. So where does this fall? Has anyone come up with a portmanteau phrase like ‘Celtic fringe synthwave’? Because this is it, right? This is Celtic fringe synthwave. Expect the Spotify playlist soon.

Leviathan - White Ward
Thirteen minutes plus of heavy atmosphere, with some really interesting musical twists chucked into the mix. If any track can be described as - pass the sick bucket - a ‘journey’ this month, here it is. Y’know, I had my dose of bleakness earlier this month at Winter Assault IV, Brighton’s annual black metal festival. It strikes me that nothing I heard that day was as accomplished or ambitious as this. I mean, around the seven minute mark we get a trumpet that could come from Bernard Herrman’s Taxi Driver soundtrack, yet it doesn’t sound out of place. Very impressive. You’re all coming to Winter Assault V next year, right? 

The Lost Souls - AFI
Wow, thanks for reintroducing me to the oeuvre of Davey Havok, I really appreciate the opportunity to relive the “single shitty earphone running from a Discman in GCSE Latin” experience that I was so desperately craving. But seriously, ain’t nothin’ wrong with this bad boy - it balances sugar ‘n’ spice in the mix very nicely, and you know what? If I was getting heated at reading about Caecilius for five straight years, I’d want to break stuff to AFI too.

Witness (1 Hope) - Roots Manuva
I pretty much love everything about this joint. Charismatic toasting from the main man, coupled with by turns some alternately fuzzy and bubbly synth sounds, all underscored with a mesmerising, unyielding beat? This is the business, and certainly in contention for my pick of the month’s tracks. Reflecting on the individual elements of ‘Witness (1 Hope)’, I don’t think there’s anything particularly sophisticated going on - it’s just fun sounds and a big spunking dollop of attitude.

Woodstock - Matthews Southern Comfort
Speaking of sophistication, this has what, two chords? Three at a push? But fuck me, if this isn’t the best-sounding song in the playlist. It’s right in that expansive, golden production sweet spot of a certain era that feels like being wrapped in a duvet stuffed with marshmallows. All from the guy kicked out of Fairport Convention for having a wimpy voice. A Joni Mitchell song originally, this is the most hippy-dippy jive from the Age of Aquarius (aside from, er, ‘Age of Aquarius’ by the 5th Dimension) imaginable, but by god, I want to believe. Were musicians just better back then? There’s a vibration running through this song that quantized, ProTools-filtered junk just doesn’t possess. Absolute catnip for this erstwhile Classic Gold radio fan.

Glass - STIFF RICHARDS

What’s with the name in all caps? Is he Japanese or…? Anyway, this has the single nastiest guitar sound of anything on the playlist, so points for that alone. It’s used relatively sparingly too, so I’ve often got something to look forward to. I can always get behind a track that’s a bracing slap around the chops; my only gripe here is that the waspish music is not being met with sincere, existential angst. This dude sounds like he’s miffed that he had to wait for a parcel being delivered in a 9am to 7pm window, and guess what? It’s already 6.30pm, bro.

Merry Go Round - Wild Man Fischer
Interesting - as someone who read a lot about Frank Zappa (and these days, probably enjoys reading about Zappa more than listening to his music), Wild Man Fischer was a name that cropped up every so often. Never heard his music knowingly, until now. I could’ve suffered to have gone on longer. I have a relatively high tolerance for ‘outsider’ music - Wesley Willis, the Shaggs, Jan Terri - but this really tested me. Its artlessness charmed me for a couple of days, but very quickly became grating. Not sure I could’ve made it the entire month without skipping if this was a leap year.

Hidden Knives - AFI
I mean, this shit just straight up sucks. Very much the neutered version of AFI on the playlist. Why, in the verses, does this sound like “baby’s first punk record” if it was being played by Johnny Hates Jazz? This only avoids being bottom of the slop bucket because someone else elected to take up space with some deranged acapella performance. What’s the deal here? What simulacra of human emotion are you hoping to coax into existence when faced with this? Do you ever ponder as to whether you’ve lost the mandate of God?

Silver Spoon - Faim
It turns out there’s a bunch of Australian pretty-boy showponies called The Faim, and this ain’t them. This is great though, a proper blast furnace of a tune. My goodness, though, that singer is going to do herself a damage if she keeps that up. Hence, amidst the churning hardocre sturm und drang, I am also given to images of Lemsip. Really fucken’ brutal Lemsip though, like you’d shotgunned a packet of the stuff in someone’s backyard whilst listening to Municipal Waste.

Hey Allison! - Jeff Rosenstock
Do I overuse the word ‘candyfloss’ when describing music I quite like that nonetheless lacks any degree of stickiness? Absolutely. Do I also think it’s one of the more apt metaphors I have at my disposal? Yeah, obviously, because it’s basically every other word that comes out of my mouth. Case in point - ‘Hey Allison!’ is a perfectly cheerful pop-punk track that pops into the old brainbox without overstaying its welcome. In that sense, it’s the ideal of disposable pop music. Songs like this act like the memory wiping devices in the Men In Black films; I emerge slightly dazed, unable to recount what just happened for the last three minutes yet completely untroubled. And that’s Two for Joy, baby!


Sunday 8 January 2023

New(ish) music - December 2022

For the past few years, I and a group of friends have been using Spotify to turn each other on to new music. Each month we upload two songs each to create a playlist; we chat about the songs on WhatsApp, and at the end of each month we try to get together to review our picks.

On those occasions where I haven't been able to make our video chats, I've written short reviews of each song. Here is what I thought of December 2022's picks!

December 2022

As we crawl to the finish line for 2022 I find some pleasure in using its dying gasps to write-up the latest TFJ. A great month to wrap up a strange and turbulent year - hey, the NHS is going up in flames and it’d be cheaper to pump liquid gold into my radiators, but at least I’ve heard Wet Leg!

A word on my picks - the Pastor T.L. Barrett one came about from reading up on the life of one of Chicago’s more colourful sons. Has to be one of the few people to have been found by a court to be running a pyramid scheme (he had to repay $1.2 million dollars to his church’s congregants) only to be honoured nine years later through having a road named after him.

The cineastes among you may have heard of Jules Dassin, director of The Naked City and one of the greatest crime films of all time, Rififi. Well, this is his son doing a dopey song about a bunch of cartoon cowboy banditos. For those who detected a note of silliness in the endeavour, please look up the music video on YouTube for confirmation. Somehow, Dassin emerges from the fray looking cooler than could be imagined. The French, eh?! Brexit means Brexit!

‘Seven Red Rose Tattoos’ - Jessie Buckley and Bernard Butler
Yes, yes, a beautiful voice. Not too dissimilar from the one that ‘When the Night Is Long’ track (a JS pick many moons ago?), and frankly it’s enough to elevate what is a reasonably ordinary song. Still, I do like the rather sparse backing, which is redolent of early Tom Waits - back when his material has about walking around whilst drunk or comparing his penis to an ice cream. It works because it foregrounds the voice, plus it sounds suitably grown-up. You’ll never hear tasteful muted trumpet in chart fodder. Good, but not quite great.

‘Superman Lover’ - Johnny ‘Guitar’ Watson
A track I knew before this month, but very welcome nonetheless! I was poised to add a JGW cut in the new year but JC's beaten me to the jump. I have an unabashed love for Watson, a man who seemingly couldn’t keep still in any creative sense. When Muddy Waters or Albert King tried to update their sound to appear hip, the results were embarrassing; Watson sounds utterly at home as a funkster. Although he did do ‘straight’ material, my favourite stuff is where he’s a little goofy, as on ‘Superman Lover’. His soloing is something that has always intrigued - it tends to flow more like a brass instrument, or even a vocal line. There’s even a song on his Funk Beyond the Call of Duty album where he scats along with the notes - fun!

‘Shook Ones, Pt. II’ - Mobb Deep
As someone who has affection for the ‘dusty’ production sound of Wu Tang releases (the pops and crackles of samples taken straight off vinyl, I guess) I found the sound of this very appealing. Pair with a sturdy backbeat and you’re cooking; add some guys with superb rhythmic and lyrical facility and you got a stew, baby. The kind of psych-up track I put one before being walloped by a bunch of teenagers at five-a-side.

‘Wet Dream’ - Wet Leg
My brain says there’s nothing sophisticated going on here, but my (dry) legs just won’t stop twitching to what is an infectious, candy-coated earworm. The vocals are cool and wry, the chorus absolutely pops out of the speakers and it’s catchy, catchy, catchy. H.G. Wells once said that the greatest challenge that faces a writer is to get a reader to want to turn the next page - a feat that doesn’t require the work to be great literature, but does need it to be intriguing and interesting enough to tempt the reader into desiring more. That’s what I get from this - it’s addictive, like sugar. But is it good for you, like sugar?

‘Jet’ - Wings
Jellyfish are one of my favourite power-pop bands (I included one of their tracks on the ill-fated Christmas-themed month a while ago), and they used to perform live covers of ‘Jet’. To cue it up they would always say “...and now for the sexiest song of all time!”. A little drollery involved there, but Jellyfish liked chewy song structures with strong melodies and big hooks, so go fish. Yes, this does sound like it was recorded down a 56k baud modem, but that just adds to the charm. Part of Paul McCartney’s eccentricity as a songwriter is that he’ll tackle whatever subject floats into his consciousness, which results in delightfully quirky results like this. The only album cover in this month’s TFJ to feature a paedophile?

‘GFY’ - Amyl and the Sniffers
I
love the animating spirit behind both the music and the supercharged lyrics, but I think I’m also faced with a plaint that’s been said before; formally, there’s little wriggle room for this brand of agit-punk. And I agree with others who have said that ‘GFY’ could’ve gone either much scuzzier or much cleaner. As such the production sounds like an awkward compromise whereby they’re aiming to be kinda dangerous, but perhaps also angling for a mid-afternoon slot on the second stage at Glasto too?

‘Just Dropped In..’ - The First Edition
Spotify says it’s the First Edition playing this, but it ain’t. This is the version that Kenny ‘the Gambler’ Rogers re-recorded a few years after the fact. As such, we’ve got a slightly cleaner, slightly funkier sound - but it misses the backwards taping that intro’d the original and Glen Campbell’s guitar solo. No matter though, this acid-washed tripper is indestructible - cool key changes, mind-bending lyrics remain intact, and the six-string work here is altogether very hip. Is that a talk box I hear? Has there ever been a bad song to feature a talk box?

‘Bleak’ - Opeth
This month I was asked to provide a non-metal fan with a few choice cuts, and I included the title track off Blackwater Park. I could’ve easily gone with this, though. I’m in the pro-Opeth camp, owning a couple of albums and having witnessed them live. If I were to try to explain ‘Bleak’, I’d say it feels like a puzzlingly arcane machine, powered by intricately wrought cogs and sprockets, all whirring together in serene harmony. It’s got enough to keep the church-burners happy, it’s got enough to keep Crimson-heads like me happy, though in its ‘quieter’ moments it does veer towards old skool Porcupine Tree, which admittedly is an acquired taste (and one that I have acquired).

‘Strangers’ - Danger Mouse, A$AP Rocky, Run the Jewels, etc.
I feel like I’m going against the grain a little in preferring the Mobb Deep cut in this month’s hip-hop offerings, but still, this is good. All contributing vocalists are characterful and adroit in a way that I enjoy. The sample that anchors everything is pleasingly oblique - about my only real gripe are the breakdowns in between verses. Who made that creative call? Man, I know they only last a few seconds at a time and act as a bit of a breather, but they suck ass. Do something cool next time!

‘Ghost With a Boner’ - Diarrhea Planet
Full marks for name of both track and band. Yes, it does sound like it’s been recorded in the back of a meat wagon. As far as I can tell, it literally is about spectral priapism. I don’t think this is music that bears too much intellectual scrutiny - this is music to be felt. It calls to a more primal part of us all, a part of us that ponders ‘what about a ghost with a boner?’, and scratches that itch admirably.

‘Crosseyed and Painless’ - Angelique Kidjo
Angelique Kidjo is a name I’ve heard plenty, but I can’t recall ever hearing a lick of her music. Decent, isn’t it? The Afropop backing, as with many examples uploaded to TFJ, has a rolling, kicky, nagging (in the best way) quality to it. The brass section burbles and punctuates in all the right places, and I love the sound of the guitar - it seems to bob and weave between the lines. But what really shines through is the sheer charisma of Ms. Kidjo’s personality - she is one of those vocalists who imposes herself onto her material, which works much to her advantage.

‘Lone Ranger’ - Julianna Riolino
I’m a bit sad to finish up on this one, because it left the smallest impression on me. I didn’t dislike it - there was nothing in ‘Lone Ranger’ to offend. But I’m curious to know where the appeal lies for everyone else? It sounds like a pretty okay, fairly middle-of-the-prairie slice of Americana to these ears. Voice? Fine, a bit anonymous. Instrumentation is a touch beige. You could hum bits ‘n’ pieces, but equally this could dissipate like the last cloud of an Arizona summer morning.

 Looking forward to everything 2023 holds, including being introduced to more new music courtesy of you lovely chaps. Salut! [NB: I am no longer looking forward to 2023.]


New(ish) music - October 2022

For the past few years, I and a group of friends have been using Spotify to turn each other on to new music. Each month we upload two songs each to create a playlist; we chat about the songs on WhatsApp, and at the end of each month we try to get together to review our picks.

On those occasions where I haven't been able to make our video chats, I've written short reviews of each song. Here is what I thought of October 2022's picks!

October 2022

So perhaps this wasn’t the greatest month for TFJ - and in truth, the middle part of it was quite crap for me. I became so ill I went delirious with fever, and started to hallucinate wildly at one point. Not that it excuses ‘Your Ontario Town…’ - nor should there be an excuse. I like the song. It sounds like it was recorded in the back of a butcher’s van and it’s a mean-spirited take on growing up in rural Canada. You may think of those as demerits, but in my musical constellation, recording a barely-listenable melodic black metal song using nowt but a circa-2001 Line 6 Multi-FX pedal is admirable.

I was briefly elated when OH mentioned that he liked “the Scottish track”, thinking he meant Orange Juice (from Glasgow), but alas, I think he means Stephen Durkan. Hmm! You know, that’s Edwyn “A Girl Like You” Collins fronting the OJ boys. That was a cool song…

Powered Up - Cobra Man
Great name, great tune. If it were up to me, there would be far more groups who sound like Recycler-era ZZ Top around and making moves. But then I recall that I’m about the only dude around who likes Recycler, so what the fuck. Maybe these guys dig it too. Maybe they like Trans by Neil Young also? We could be friends. Anyway, absurdly fun, a bit goofy, and it sounds like Recycler by ZZ Top.

I’m Bored - Iggy Pop
Wasn’t this on an advert once? It’s good - as one of those lizard-brain clank-a-longs this is primo Iggy. When did he stop sounding insane though? My only problem here is that he sounds like a more reasonable version of Lou Reed on this, and I don’t want either of those mofos acting as if you can chat with them about sports or the weather. 

Also, the Stooges are right there.

I Was Dancing in the Lesbian Bar - Jonathan Richman
I’ve long enjoyed the peculiar universe conjured up by Mr Richman. Another Lou Reed devotee, take note! I love that this track could’ve come from virtually any time within the span of twenty years of Richman’s career. His devotion to musical simplicity is, by now, heroic - and I adore his unaffected singing style. No need to groan and roll around for ol’ Jonny boy, the purism of his craft sees him through. One of the best this month. 

But, the Modern Lovers are right there. 

Hit the Breaks - PLOSIVS
You know what would’ve made this song a lot better? If they were singing “let’s hit the bricks”. Anyway, I don’t get this. It’s fine as a competently crafted rocker but doesn’t get the blood pumping, nor does it really get one’s head scratching. I’m neither feelin’ a dip in the hip nor a glide in my stride, so what’s the point?

Weird Fishes / Arpeggi - Rodrigo Y Gabriela
What is this, Enya for people who like acoustic guitars (and fretless bass)? I feel like these jabronis have drifted in and out of the periphery of my musical understanding for a while, and this crystallises why - every time I’ve given ‘em a chance it bores me. This is no exception - I can hear this playing in coffee shops patronised by folk in kaftans, but you know where I can’t hear this playing very often? My stereo. 

Breakin’ My Heart - Tom Verlaine
Tom Verlaine has one of those peculiar voices, like Tom Petty or Mark Knopfler, where you suspect it’s also exactly how they talk. Did they get bullied at school? Regardless, this is another highlight of this month’s action as it sounds like summat offa side two of Television’s Marquee Moon album, and Lord knows that’s a platter I love. I ooze love for it! Yet another track that hypnotises through the insistence and confidence of its central conceit, and works. Like Iggy Pop, like Jonathan Richman. See? This rock ‘n’ roll lark isn’t too difficult. Halfway through, this song busts out into guitar playing that feels like those clean, skeletal, geometric patterns that typified the best…Television songs.

And yes, Television are right there.

I Want My Minutes Back - Snapped Ankles
Beep! Bip! Boop! Now we’re really makin’ music, bay-beh! Just fuzz up them vocals, stick a few dits and doots over a Krautrock riff and we’re laughing. See? This rock ‘n’ roll lark isn’t too difficult. It’s alright, isn’t it? The only issue, I would say, is that it feels like every move this track can be telegraphed a mile off. Surprises don’t have to be big, they just need to be there in the first instance. Ironically, given their name, Snapped Ankles failed to wrong-foot me. 

The Acid Commune - Stephen Durkan
The lyrics mention an ‘endless cycle’, and that’s how I feel about TFJ’s seeming regard for anyone barking out sprechgesang doggerel in a Scottish accent. We’ve had this song before, no? Oh, that was Arab Strap? Ah, how to tell these irascible Scots, if one may employ a tautology, apart. If it’s gonna be this way, the lyrics need to be a jot smarter for my tastes, but this one actually does feature a badass Krautrock backing and some utterly unnecessary space-rock flourishes. And because the Hawkwindisms sound superfluous, they of course, sound fantastisch.

Janey - Foy Vance
What purpose does this serve?

Our Film - Tigran Hamasyan, Areni Aghbabian, Artyom Manukyan
Well, I like this, but could’ve done with more of the stuff the features early doors, which reminds me of the music I heard in Japanese malls, or perhaps the Tokyo Subway Museum. I’ve been chasing that particular high ever since. This kind of music, a kind of fey Hot Rats Zappa, wiv dance beats, feels rather modish these days. The dude I saw supporting Tricot sounded like this, as do Polyphia from time-to-time. No bad thing - the music has craft, skill, ideas and imagination. I just wish these guys properly went wild, you know? The jazz urge must exist within them, somewhere! 

Figure Skating - Porij
One of the daftest fucking names around, but this dancey little number wormed its way into my affections over the course of the month. Again, this feels like a bunch of stuff I’ve heard at the artsier end of the pop spectrum. Lots of contemporary artists seem to have come together to make music that sounds both sad and upbeat at the same time. Still, there’s a euphoric, slightly hysterical note to this, possibly enhanced by the airlessness of the production. I probably can’t listen to loads of this, but sprinkled into a playlist it’s a nice left turn.

Sleep Like a Baby Tonight - U2
Urrrghhhh, I really like this. What a revelation! If only U2 didn’t spend literal decades being shit, and instead made moody industro-pop like this, I might - might - forgive the rainforest-bothering prick some of his more venial excesses (I am, of course, talking about Larry Mullen Jr here). Seriously though, that falsetto is a revelation, and the boys certainly know their way around a chorus. Prowling, dark, sepulchral - another one near the top of the tree this month. And it’s bloody U2! C’mon Bono, let’s see you pull a Depeche Mode and transform into full-on leather sex perverts for the next album.

 That’s that, then. I didn’t listen to the playlist as much as I often do due to a combo of work, illness and holiday (Strasbourg is a very decent long weekend destination) but when I did it held my attention. Even the tracks that didn’t necessarily get my motor running often featured something to commend them. Except Foy Vance, that s-s-s-s-s-sucked!


New(ish) music - June 2022

For the past few years, I and a group of friends have been using Spotify to turn each other on to new music. Each month we upload two songs each to create a playlist; we chat about the songs on WhatsApp, and at the end of each month we try to get together to review our picks.

On those occasions where I haven't been able to make our video chats, I've written short reviews of each song. Here is what I thought of June 2022's picks!

June 2022

And so we come onto the second most significant event of June 2022 - the summing up of a month’s listening on TFJ. I’ll refrain from any encomia about seeing you all at the weekend, because that’s pretty much a given - besides, I know you’re eager to see if the Sword of Damacles hovers over your selections, so without further ado, let’s begin.

JC, you’re a fine fellow and I admire your questing nature where song selections are concerned. I like the fact that you tend to push the envelope somewhat, guiding us into the darkest realms of the 6Music playlist. Yet this Kendrick Lamar and Taylour Paige collaboration has little aside from its sheer vehemence to commend it. I’m in that uncomfortable place of condemning something that’s quite worthy, namely a depiction of domestic abuse; but I can’t look past the execution, which at turns I find irksome, gratuitous and dull.

The other track that wore on me - only a little - was JS’s Garbage selection. A little surprising, as I’ve listened to Garbage lately due to the album review thing I do with my Stateside pals and dug it. My only real explanation is that it feels quite dated, its loud, shiny late-90s production ageing the track prematurely.

Happily, I had a few surprises in store, not least the Bouncing Souls. As one of the few pop-punk bands I’ve actually seen live I was expecting them to coast by on nostalgia fumes, but their knucklehead charm did a number on me. Even more eyebrow-raising was the offering from Minor Threat. Given their reputation I’d imagined their music to be near-unlistenable but ‘Salad Days’ is vying for my favourite track this month; bells, acoustic flourishes and a peculiarly ruminative air to proceedings hit the mark for me. Fantastic.

What of those that ever so slightly missed the mark? As in, joints that were good without knocking my socks off? ‘Cure for Pain’ by Morphine is one, and probably ‘This Much Is True’ by Rob Eckland and Brendan Reilly fall into this category. On the former, I really like the lugubrious saxophone and hangdog vocals; it’s certainly thick with atmosphere. The latter is an interesting one, because I dig a good pop song - and here one can draw a straight line between Michael Jackson and Bruno Mars to this; I feel it scrapes the firmament but doesn’t quite burst through the clouds. It’s missing one little signature or quirky factor to push it into the stratosphere. 

Sticking with pop music (after a fashion), how about that Ink Spots number? What a beautiful facility with a melody they demonstrate. This has been the chorus I find myself singing in the shower. JC, you’ve reached into the past before with cowboy music and early British blues before and uncovered the odd gem or two, and the same applies here.

MM, I’m going to take yours together because I appreciated them both in different ways. I have heard the name Neko Case before, but was unfamiliar with the music. The first twenty seconds made my heart sink; I thought we were in for another outing of a female singer trying to sound like Feist, which we were plagued with about ten years ago. Well, this was much, much better - a belter of a voice, no? And another sticky chorus. The one that really grabbed me, though, was the Mermen; listen, psychedelic surf guitar will always be fucking cool, no matter what other twists and turns the vagaries of popular music has for us. This is the kind of thing I pay £6 a ticket to see in small venues around Brighton, and I invariably have the best time. My ticket often costs less than my pint! Funny!

So, now we’re onto a trio that really broke through. I spoke with James about the Brant Bjork (the only Bjork I give a fig about) at the weekend, how he is essentially a Zelig figure in the desert rock scene ‘n’ all that. Now, I think the riffs and changes in ‘Chocolatize’ can be seen a mile away - in terms of groove, tempo and composition it’s as predictable as it gets - so why does it scratch the itch? Attitude, swagger, delivery, a kind of dusty, sleazy B-movie redolence? Is it just that indefinable quality of ‘cool’? Interested to hear what others think.

Next up is Steve Earle, who I’ve been tempted to put on TFJ for a while now. OH beat me to the punch! (Though that hasn’t stopped months with two Steely Dan tracks or, more peculiarly, two Dr Octagon tracks in the past.) Probably my favourite contemporary country musician, and you’re reading the words of a guy who’s very recently purchased a banjo. Earle namechecks Doc Watson in the intro, which gave me an insta-boner. Await the day I trade in my MG for a pickup.

Which leaves my clear favourite - HAZEY’s absolutely bonkers ‘Packs and Potions’. Without wishing to over-elaborate, everything works - the twisty waterslide rhymes delivered in thick demotic, the surreal references to footballers and the sparse musical backing, which almost acts as punctuation at times. Again, a surprise, a big surprise…but that’s TFJ, baby!

New(ish) music - April 2022

For the past few years, I and a group of friends have been using Spotify to turn each other on to new music. Each month we upload two songs each to create a playlist; we chat about the songs on WhatsApp, and at the end of each month we try to get together to review our picks.

On those occasions where I haven't been able to make our video chats, I've written short reviews of each song. Here is what I thought of April 2022's picks!

April 2022

I don’t think we can begin with anything other than a look at the covers on April’s playlist, given that there were five - count ‘em, five - of those bad boys to enjoy. I recently read an early history of pop music and it was interesting to learn that until the mid- to late-forties, individual songs took precedence over performers. Often, the same tune - especially one that could be performed by big bands or swing combos - would be recorded and released by as many as ten or fifteen of the heavy hitters at a go. Even in the 1950s rock ‘n’ roll era, it wasn’t uncommon to see two or three artists vying simultaneously in the charts with the same song.

However, we now have a much greater notion of artistic agency and interpretation, which puts a premium on the ‘definitive’ version of a tune; Prince may have been the originator, but few would argue that Sinead O’Connor’s ‘Nothing Compares 2 U’ is the version worth shouting about. Likewise, feel for the poor old Nerves, who wrote a cracking pop-punk track called ‘Hangin’ on the Telephone’, only for Blondie to coast past the finish line with it. Without doubt, the respective songs were utterly transformed by those artists who tasted success with them, which was a point of discussion when a few of us met to pick over the bones of April’s offerings. Generally, we thought a straight cover to be lesser than a reinterpretation, especially where a new angle draws on a differing reservoir of emotion than the original. 

To date, Marc Almond has had two number one hits in the UK, both with covers - a radical take on Gloria Jones’ ‘Tainted Love’ and a pedestrian version of ‘Something’s Gotten Hold of My Heart’, which cleaved so close to the original that he even duetted with Gene Pitney on the latter. One of those covers is transformative; the other has hardly made a dent in the collective musical consciousness.

We have two rather breathy takes on non-breathy songs here, and for my money Phoebe Bridgers wins out with her Cure cover. Why? Because it brings a note of tenderness and yearning to ‘Friday I’m in Love’, whilst Kina Grannis and Clara C struggle to rise above the sophomoric sentiments of ‘Bad Blood’ and, if anything, highlight its deficiencies through deconstruction.

Good without being great are Zurito with an old Buena Vista Social Club joint called ‘Amor de Loca Juventud’ (the mad love of youth?) which is pretty and skips along with sun-dappled lightness without landing a punch. I felt the singer was so close-miked that it sounded like he was right on your shoulder, like a parrot. On the other hand, the Valkyrians (from Finland! Not Mexico!) did do something new with Blondie’s ‘Heart of Glass’ but turned a hard, shiny disco number into an amiable ska plod, which rather took the juice out of it. Fun nonetheless.

So we’re left with one cover that really stands out; the late Charles Bradley shaping Black Sabbath’s rather somnolent ‘Changes’ into a churchified soul stirrer. Yowzer! I know a performance is a performance, but he sings it like he really means it. In fact, soul bangers did very well for me as the standout track of the lot was ‘Going In Circles’ by the Friends of Distinction. I knew it, ironically, as a cover - but whilst Isaac Hayes applies all the bells and whistles from the start, the FoD climb the mountain. The low-key, lugubrious beginning pulls at heartstrings every time, whilst Hayes wraps everything in gauze from the off - well, it’s too rich, like pouring clotted cream over a wedding cake.

I didn’t like Alt-J’s offering at all, though I’ve been prevailed upon by some of you to give their first album a go (thanks for the link); why the guy decided to sing this delicate number in the voice of a cartoon rodent is beyond me. That’s my only frowny face of the originals - I found something to dig in everything else, including Full of Hell’s frantic sub-two minutes of sheer aggression. I thought the alarm clock at the end was a nice touch - just in case it hadn’t woken you up, right?

The late Taylor Hawkins (& the Coattail Riders) were interesting and kicky without ever tempting me back to listen. I compared it to Satellite Party, another act who did a fine job meshing disparate genres within the same track. Parquet Courts were likewise cool without feeling essential; marrying the vocal hook to a drum pattern was a neat trick but I also got the impression of a singer who can’t quite ever close his mouth.

Which leaves, I believe, just the two other songs. I am familiar with what might be considered the classic era of Love but not their latter offerings. I knew that Arthur Lee began to go off the rails somewhat, so it’s heartening to hear that he was still able to pull the rabbit out the hat when it mattered. ‘Everybody’s Gotta Live’ is the perfect encapsulation of the 1970s bummer ethos; whereas in their earlier guise Love were conjuring up baroque psychedelic mind-quests, here it’s a single burnt-out acoustic guitar strumming three chords. It’s an overused phrase, but the song works purely on the vibe. At the other end of the spectrum, consummate songwriting professional John Hiatt cruises through like a high-end Audi, every moving part gleaming and in its proper place. There are zero musical surprises, but each touch is assured, the lyrics are wry and knowing, plus Hiatt knows exactly how to deploy a voice gnarled through experience and wisdom. Bob Dylan, take note! 


Sunday 4 December 2022

Go My Way - Robin Trower

 

Provenance: I know why I bought this album - Classic Rock magazine told me to - but where I bought it is lost to the mists of time. I vaguely recall buying Go My Way at the branch of WHSmith where I held a weekend job, but that seems unlikely. We only stocked the top sixty (nice round number) in the album charts.

Incidentally, I checked the official charts site to see whether there was a chance that Trower snuck into the top sixty in the heady days of summer 2000, I was aghast to see that neither Twice Removed From Yesterday nor the majestic Bridge of Sighs cracked the top forty. Check for yourselves!

Review: If you want me to like your album, do you reckon the opening gambit should be a nine-minuter that mostly consists of wah-guitar going "weow weowoeoowooeoow"? Well buddy I've got great news - that's pretty much exactly what I'm after. For fuck's sake, why else am I buying a Robin Trower album? The percussion? The cover art? (Look at that typeface - is it from Ecco the Dolphin?).

The biggest surprise, if one is allowed to be shocked at the contents of a Robin Trower album, is hearing el jefe stepping up to the microphone for a few numbers. You wonder why he hasn't done it so much before - it's really pleasant, not dissimilar to that of Mark Knopfler's (with the added bonus that Trower doesn't use homophobic slurs on his most beloved songs). Then again, when your vocal foils have included Jack Bruce and the mighty Jimmy Dewar, perhaps it takes time to wind up the courage to give it the tonsils.

I may be committing a heresy here when I say that this might be my favourite Robin Trower album. Better than Twice Removed From Yesterday? I think so! Superior to Bridge of Sighs? Maybe! This does fit in with a pattern of deviancy that considers Trans a stellar Neil Young release, Recycler a worthwhile ZZ Top platter and Love and Theft to be Bob Dylan's finest collection. In some parts of the globe such opinions can have you thrown in jail. But! Listen!!

For a start, the production and musicianship are far sparkier than anything from Trower's 1970s heyday. Normally I'm a sucker for the slightly muddy, claggy atmosphere many records of the era had - it's warm, organic-sounding and tend to make harmony vocals sound amazing - but Trower's guitar playing is such that it works better with a background wrought in sharp contrast. The benefits of the production job are a revelation, revealing ever more shading to Trower's remarkable playing.

You see, I think Go My Way features Trower's best instrumental performances. He blazes through songs like 'This Old World' and 'Run with the Wolves' (the latter of which sounds like an early Blur track, of all things) but it's on the gentler numbers that the guitar work properly shines. 'Into Dust' is a gorgeous thing already, but Trower's playing here is stunning, fragile and aching and kaleidoscopic all at once. In my personal pantheon Trower is right up there with Blue Oyster Cult's Buck Dharma as a stylish, characteristic player anyway, but here it's like someone stuck a rocket up him. His tone is like liquid caramel, and he bends his luminous, fragmentary blues guitar abstractions around these numbers with an understated virtuosity. 

If I could make a guitar sound like anything, and the good Lord knows I've tried, it would be like the guitar on Go My Way.

Is there a weak point here, a moment that drags, any slips into territory filler? Nah. Trower tries on a few different moods, ranging from wistful to hard-nosed but there's a remarkable consistency on Go My Way both in terms of quality and the sound universe the album inhabits. Does it just boil down to sequencing that everything links so neatly together that it can trick the listener into thinking there must be some kind of underlying concept? Perhaps. Am I just over-egging it all because I love Go My Way without reservation? Very possibly.

However, nobody reads this blog for dispassionate perspectives. I likes what I likes, and Go My Way has never long been off my stereo these past twenty years. Anyone who wants to make halfway tasteful noises on guitar should get turned on to some Trower power in any case; and there are few better examples of how to do it than the eleven tracks on Go My Way.

Sunday 6 November 2022

The Dock Of The Bay: The Definitive Collection - Otis Redding

Provenance: When I were a lad, Bournemouth had two local radio stations that, seemingly, the entire town listened to - 2CR FM and Classic Gold. 2CR FM was the 'popular contemporary' station, based out of a rather scruffy building on Southcote Road. It once played a song recorded by my brother's Year Two primary school teacher, and it was the launchpad for Christian O'Connell's media career. Gosh!

Classic Gold (828 MW - burned into my memory banks) was the oldies station. Alarmingly, the relative time periods now dictate that I must consider 'Don't Cha' by the Pussycat Dolls as an 'oldie', given the gap between its release in 2005 to today corresponds with that of the material being played on Classic Gold in the 1990s. 

I have a lifelong habit of leaving a radio on at low volume as I sleep; these days it's tuned to a talk station, but it began with Classic Gold. As such, I now possess a fairly comprehensive knowledge of popular music from the 1960s and 1970s due to it being zapped into my skull in the moments between slumber and wakefulness. And one of the songs I feel like I heard on this endless looping timewarp was '(Sittin' On) the Dock of the Bay' by Otis Redding.

So, when the opportunity arose to buy this cheap Atlantic Records compilation for, I believe, about three quid, I bit. A small price to pay for a big slice of one's childhood.

Review: When you're young and know no better (as opposed to being old and knowing no better), one's imagination - operating on a level of overdrive - fills in the gaps. For example, when I first heard 'The Logical Song' by Supertramp I was genuinely scared by this article of truth, that transitioning to adulthood would render life cold, grey and meaningless. Another example is the picture I held in my head of Otis Redding purely on the basis of hearing '...Dock of the Bay'. Evidently, on the basis of this song, I was listening to an old man, wearied by life's tribulations, probably fated to die a vagrant's death on the dockside. It was much, much later that I learned Redding was twenty-six when he recorded it.

I implore you to bear two things in mind - one, to a young mind, the literal 'truth' is much easier to buy into than that of the performer or fabulist. The world seems much more obviously delineated, and so when a man sings of whiling away the time at 'the Frisco Bay', I believed that was precisely what happened. I wasn't so gullible as to not understand the concept of acting, but both then and now there's an aura of verisimilitude in music that has the ability to wrong-foot me. The other factor is that in the early-to-mid 1990s it was the norm to not know things like a legacy artist's biographical information or appearance. No Wikipedia, no internet, and no guarantee that as an eight- or nine-year-old you would encounter Otis Redding in a magazine or book you might be reading. Simply put, the Voice was the Truth.

Forgive me my ramblings on youthful befuddlement, especially as I grew up and learned the documented tragedy of a life cut short at twenty-six due to a plane crash. It's humbling, therefore, to reflect on how much was accomplished in such a short space of time. Otis Redding's recording career lasted less than seven years.

Yet, virtually every cut on this twenty-track compilation has something to commend it; and the best material absolutely soars. Of course, the moving parts revolve around Redding's agonised, rough-hewn country-soul voice. It is an astonishing instrument that can be deployed to almost any end, whether it's the braggadocious strut of 'Love Man', late-night rumination on 'Cigarettes and Coffee' and, yes, the sleepy-eyed shoulder-shrug that is '...Dock of the Bay'. He is every bit as adept at interpreting the work of others, as demonstrated on '(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction' or his breath-taking version of Sam Cooke's 'A Change Is Gonna Come'. The latter is a remarkable song in its original iteration, but Redding somehow unlocks even greater depths of emotion - the moment he wails "I was born by the river, in a little tent..." the power and history unleashed upon the listener is enough to provoke a physical reaction.

So, we've got one of the most potent, emotive voices of the twentieth century; and on virtually every track he's backed by one of the greatest backing combos ever assembled. Yep, it's the Stax house band, Booker T. & the M.G.s, so we've also got the collective genius of Booker T. Jones, Steve Cropper, Isaac Hayes, Donald Dunn et al. to contend with. Unsurprisingly, every track crackles with an electricity borne out of the band's rare alchemy. There's a fizz and pulse to proceedings, most obvious when the band are rocking and horns are blaring as on 'Hard To Handle', but even the slower numbers possess a coiled sense of energy and purpose. 

(I should also add that, 'A Change Is Gonna Come' aside, every track clocks in at less than three minutes. In, out, job done - every song a little bullet of stuffed with soul and feeling.)

What else is there to say? The Dock of the Bay: The Definitive Collection is an ugly, unwieldy title but as an overview of a career, it's a triumph many times over. Otis Redding's talent burned briefly but with a magnesium brightness. Comedy, tragedy, vulnerability, loss, wistfulness and passion - it's all here. The best soul singer to ever do it? Discuss.