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.