LEMONHEADS – MRS ROBINSON/BEING AROUND (ATLANTIC RECORDS)

LEMONHEADS – MRS ROBINSON/BEING AROUND (ATLANTIC RECORDS)

For most of the world this was the first time any of them ever heard of the Lemonheads and Evan Dando. Excitingly it was pretty strange to hear an ultra familiar song with pop cinema connotations being presented and directed in such a modern manner. Here was a whole new graduate for the world.

It wasn’t until the band performed this song on The Word that I finally clicked with it. Up until that point I had been supremely dubious of the band. Evan was too pretty and the video featuring a ride along Camden Lock felt too obvious and explicitly pandering. Their performance on The Word however was genuinely renegade. As the band suddenly appeared to turn up their instruments (their weapons) it was almost as if they were approaching the song with contempt, stomping on its legacy with their own footprint which all served to display that there was much much more to this band that met the eye. As David Ryan held it all together, Evan Dando played his guitar like J Mascis and Nic Dalton just gave up on playing his bass in any traditional sense or method. Apparently he was Eing off tits which might explain the amount of fun he appeared to be having and how at the end of proceedings he thought it more to just try and balance his bass in the palm of his hand rather actually finish the song. It all closed with Evan suddenly launching into the words of “Being Around” as everything got messy and the kids of the time came a bit too close to the band and stage for manners and comfort. For years I spent days trawling the internet for a copy of this performance.

There are truly so many contradictions attached to this release (their breakout release). The cover artwork looks as it were sketched by an imbecile and bears very little in the way of relation to the music held within. Was this is an attempt to dupe people in, to many the music parent approved on a surface level? Looking closely at the credits you will note “Cover art by Evan Dando age 25 ¼”. Enough said.

History seems to forget that this was actually a double A-side single with “Being Around” which itself was another cover version, this time by the more obscure Smudge from Australia (who were also responsible for “The Outdoor Type” which the Lemonheads later covered for a single). Only 1.37 in length it comes with the classic line “if I was a booger, would you pick your nose?”

Likewise track three “Divan” is another Smudge cover version as the single continues with an EP standard of quality.

Strikingly the single ends with an Evan solo version of future super hit “Into Your Arms”, a track everyone knows and at this early stage already had the chops.

The legacy of this single is warranted.

Thesaurus moment: mooch.

Lemonheads
Atlantic Records

FUGAZI – FUGAZI EP (DISCHORD)

FUGAZI – FUGAZI EP (DISCHORD)

The first Fugazi record was a blocky post punk release deploying tinges of reggae as Ian Mackaye appeared hell bent of moving away from his hardcore roots. At this time Guy Picciotto was only featuring for the band on vocals so as a result the songs are dominated by Mackaye’s wooden block Gibson all the way.

The seven-song affair opens with “Waiting Room” which over the years has come to represent THE Fugazi song for much of their audience striving to relive the Minor Threat days. It is a powerful track that really emphasises the talents of the band’s rhythm section, especially the intricate playing of Joe Lally on bass. Very dubby and very effective.

Early Fugazi in many ways holds more in common than the sound they eventually arrived at. These are brute forces of nature in song form, explicitly addressing social issues and causes in a manner that thankfully is not stifling or choking to the music. As far as balance goes Fugazi have always managed to strike and maintain one that is both fan friendly and true to their art. In an era where chest beating liberals (as well intentioned as they are) have proved somewhat of an embarrassment for the longest time Fugazi felt like the gang it was cool to be in and often the unit that you could/would sensibly model yourselves on.

With their first collection of songs there is plenty to grasp hold of. Once “Waiting Room” is out of the way “Bulldog Front” drops in like some kind alpha epiphany, an explicit passage arriving at clarity.

As “Burning” drops in there is a real air of menace with Guy leading the line vocally and the band imposing like Jaws heading from the distance. Here is the first time I can recall Mackaye exhibiting that wonderful way in which he seems able to keep his guitar sound hanging in the air like a bomber dropping napalm. The shonky sound that then follows physically displays the mindset of an individual at odds with modern society with its selfish inclinations and nasty demonstrations.

From here “Give Me The Cure” exhibits a swarming echo by way of guitar. Its sentiments may feel slightly immature but the playing remains magnificent.

To this day “Suggestion” remains one of the most menacing tracks in the Fugazi cannon raining out masculine concern and identity crisis. They’re just so damn politically correct.

Over time Fugazi may have eclipsed these songs but even now they remain stronger that most items of the genre.

Thesaurus moment: commence.

Fugazi
Fugazi interview
Fugazi live
Dischord Records

TOM WAITS – CLOSING TIME (ELEKTRA)

TOM WAITS – CLOSING TIME (ELEKTRA)

With this record it is stating the painfully obvious but Tom Waits really does sound young on it. Indeed of bleating with his gruff, damaged vocal chords instead he is actually belting out the songs with an impressive singing voice which would often see him being compared with Randy Newman in a very positive manner. In some ways it also sounds like late period Bruce Springsteen, the Springsteen so painfully soughting credibility in the face of years being a chest thumping shill.

In addition to the different vocal style there is also something of a country element attached to these songs, one that hints at a small-town existence where true love runs free and people exhibit integrity in the face of poverty.

As a result of all these elements, realistically this is not the best Tom Waits to search out and introduce yourself with. That’s not to say it is a bad record but certainly it is pretty far removed from his best and most inventive efforts. As say above, you just do not recognise it as the Waits the world has come to adore over the years.

Right now I am using this record as some kind of comedown soundtrack after a domestic has blown up in the apartment next door to me. The time is now 1.20AM and while there is too much furniture in my mind I am choosing this as the record to break the peace, to help re-engage with the world at a time when everyone around me represents the pit of humanity. His strains aren’t helping.

At the end of the day I just do not like or value this album. It is just too much of a departure from the Tom Waits I know and adore. Not everything it always right from the beginning.

Thesaurus moment: unfledged.

Tom Waits
Elektra

SHELLAC – THE RUDE GESTURE, A PICTORIAL HISTORY EP (TOUCH AND GO)

SHELLAC – THE RUDE GESTURE, A PICTORIAL HISTORY EP (TOUCH AND GO)

The first Shellac record holds all the promise that they were later to follow through on and continues tracks that remain constant inclusions in their sets to this day. These are three of the most tightly wound songs in recorded history, tracks so stern in restrained aggression that it requires such adept poker faces not to corpse in the process.

It opens with “The Guy Who Invented Fire”, a song so great I know a band to have been named after it. Opening with some of the clearest, harshest, best recorded drums anywhere in music history the hissing buzz of Albini’s guitar already offers a sense of menace before

The bridge between the first song and the second feels almost non-existent as swiftly proceedings meld into the declaration “I got a girlfriend, you cannot have her” and most definitely you believe what is being said. “The Rambler Song” is a distinct gesture of condemnation combined with an apparent celebration of a trophy not intended for mass consumption. With each guitar whistle it feels like a stab to the heart of any potential protagonist. Eventually after much corruption and sounds that sound carved out of wood with bare hands it reaches a definite conclusion decreeing no loss.

“Had his heart broken”

Flipping over the release takes on a sombre tone as “Billiard Player Song” tells a gargled tale of heartbreak and affection. This sounds like the harshest and heaviest blues song in history.

This just has to be heard to be believed.

Thesaurus moment: secure.

Shellac
Shellac interview
Shellac live
Touch And Go

NIRVANA – LITHIUM (DGC)

NIRVANA – LITHIUM (DGC)

This was the Nirvana summer hit of 1992 with its release timed to coincide with their historical victory against the elements at Reading Festival that year (a festival that was very much different to the corporate logo riddled event that it is now).

The third single to be pulled from Nevermind this was also the song that they famously played the MTV Awards that summer when Kurt threatened to play “Rape Me” instead and eventually Krist would wind up bashing himself in the head with his bass after he threw it in the air.

Not the most obvious of singles Lithium is a mid tempo often slow paced number from the band that eventually explodes into a jarring finale. It is in essence quite generic in its structure as the muddled vocals make even less sense when read from a hymn sheet. With the opening lines of “I’m so happy” the lethargic continuation of the song is almost hilarious in comparison to the initial sentiments spewed out at the opening of the song. Thanks to its catchy chorus though and vocal refrains this represents one of the easier Nirvana songs to singalong to and with it perhaps one of the most rounded songs in their catalogue that truly represented the entire width of their songbook.

In the end this turned out to be a single I bought numerous times. The first time I purchased it came at the close of the 1992 summer school holidays. I bought it on cassette single from Woolworths in Clacton-on-sea and while the charts filled with horrible pieces of MTV churned euro pop this felt like one of the few beacons of hope. Indeed this was the time that Erasure were reaching the top of the charts with their Abba cover versions. The day I bought this single on cassette I bumped into a friend in town and made a joke about buying the Erasure thing instead. Immediately my friend responded how he already had the Erasure single. Years later when he was unearthed on Facebook we discovered he had now come out and was royally flying the flag. I guess Nirvana wasn’t really for him after then although Reading 92 was also the year the Bjorn Again took to the main stage with their cover of “Smells Like Teen Spirit.”

The second time I bought the single it was the US import CD single version. The cover of the single had always been striking due to its similarity (in my mind) to the Incesticide cover. It was cool to see a larger version of the cover but the true gold in the import version (and the reason why I paid the equivalent of an album for it) was how it included lyric sheets for the entire tracklisting of Nevermind. The UK digipack CD single had not come with lyrics although it did have an extra track in the form of their cover of The Wipers “D-7”.

The b-sides to the release were pretty titillating. The live version of “Been A Son” eventually surpassed any studio recorded version of the song and served as an exciting example of how great the band sounded live even if it wasn’t their greatest or strongest song on its own merit. The other track to feature on the release was “Curmudgeon” which proved wonky and unsettling in a fun manner sounding once more like nothing else in the Nirvana cannon.

A great single but not their best.

Thesaurus moment: yeah.

Nirvana
DGC

CORD - SEA OF TROUBLE (ISLAND RECORDS)

CORD – SEA OF TROUBLE (ISLAND RECORDS)

Cord came into my consciousness when they came into the studio where I worked, recording on a major label pound. Suddenly a band I had never heard of, coming from Norwich, appeared to be threatening the big time.

On what is some of the worst/cheapest sounding vinyl in history, Cord prove to be something of a pointless guitar strumming outfit not a million miles away in sound from Keane, appealing to the Snow Patrol audience in the process. There may have been some credibility and depth to this kind of music when acts like The Verve were charting high with string accompanied indie hits but now these groups seem to be churned out on a major label conveyor belt as the popular kids from school make nice nice with the world as they foist the instruments that their parents bought them onto the world. Didn’t we and the industry get our fill with Starsailor?

Ouch, would you believe I have worked at the accountants for three of those acts and the recording studio of this act. I should be drummed out of any involvement in music and negated any opinion now!

Strangely the b-side hints at having heard Slint/Dave Pajo for thirty seconds before the front man begins spouting more tripe, probably about his dick, occasionally lapsing into an American accent oddly. Example lyric “if I do not try, I cannot fail” – FUCKING A!

Thesaurus moment: mistaken.

Cord

THE JESUS LIZARD – WHEELCHAIR EPIDEMIC (TOUCH AND GO)

THE JESUS LIZARD – WHEELCHAIR EPIDEMIC (TOUCH AND GO)

Actually a cover version of a song originally by Texan band The Dicks this is a swift and jagged song that The Jesus Lizard make their own, not sounding in the least bit like a cover version.

When the song reaches the chorus the aching barks that Yow delivers sounds akin to a redneck saluting his god crossed with lodging punch into the brain of a scumbag.

On the reverse comes the lurching “Dancing Naked Ladies” which is no less menacing and possessing more explicitly aggressive gestures housed in a tightly wound composition that appears to have its own safety alarm in the middle for when things get too hot.

You can probably guess from the song title alone what kind of attitude and set of intentions a track named “Dancing Naked Ladies” is going to house. As ever a dark sense of humour is best applied to the violent and sexist images being conjured up at taste’s expense.

For me The Jesus Lizard conjures up many of the worst things in life, it forces me to recall dimly lit drunken evenings spent in scary surroundings that were lucky not to end in bloodshed and hate crimes. Much like Yow’s role from “Walls In The City” in a lot of ways this is the music equivalent of a Charles Bukowski book.

This was the way forward.

Thesaurus moment: spasmodic.

The Jesus Lizard
Touch And Go

MORRISSEY – THE LAST OF THE FAMOUS INTERNATIONAL PLAYBOYS (EMI)

MORRISSEY – THE LAST OF THE FAMOUS INTERNATIONAL PLAYBOYS (EMI)

Often with Morrissey you get the impression that he would have liked to have been born into an era and quite possibly into another body. Here is a man that chooses his heroes with interesting (and occasionally) dubious criteria that suggests a devil streak in him.

“Dear hero in prison” just might be my favourite first line of any British indie (well, alternative) song. Practically a love letter sent out to Reggie Kray this is a most English song and exhibits just what it is that Morrissey does best in his dissection (and celebration) of our nation’s rejected treasures. There is a rich tapestry in being English and disliked in your home country and this is something that appears to create relish in our man.

You sense from the lyrical content that Morrissey quite identifies with Mr Kray and the role of the song is about looking for some kind of reasoning and origin behind negative gestures with view to abstaining he and his subject from responsibility.

With The Smiths rhythm section still on board the playing is tempered and sinister in its accompaniment and build before reaching a wonky climax than manages to rightfully remain respectful to the source material throughout.

Thesaurus moment: bouquet.

Morrissey
EMI

NEIL YOUNG – NEIL YOUNG (REPRISE)

NEIL YOUNG – NEIL YOUNG (REPRISE)

Having put his experiences of being in a band behind him the first Neil Young solo album is a subtly adventurous array of songs fielded towards the ill at ease, a state you can’t help but feel Young was in at the time.

This is far from an immediate album, indeed it opens with a curious instrumental that isn’t necessarily a very appealing introduction. Following comes “The Loner” which comes equipped with one of the heaviest hooks anywhere in the Young cannon. Here is a song where the listener and the artist appear in sync, on the same wavelength and in similar shoes. In many ways this is what Young has always been about: empathising with the common man.

With this record Young often still sounds like the bands he has just exited from, of a band still affected by the summer of love and hippy ethos which ultimately sees it displaying a distinct lack of urgency and cynicism, instead clinging to idealism and affection. Not necessarily a bad trait, just one not conducive to a person producing their best work.

Probably the best known track to come from this album is “The Old Laughing Lady”, a song that has endured over the years and regularly returned to Young’s set. This is a strange version of the song, one that possesses keyboard strokes that perversely remind of “Riders On The Storm” by The Doors. Then come in the crazy “Gimme Shelter-esqe” backing vocals pimping the joint out. All in all it is a very different take on the song to one the world has come accustomed to over the years. And not necessarily the best one.

Ultimately I think the record (much like his career in general) gets let down by the country sounding material, that basic and simple noise that belittles and lowers the IQ of any song. Such earnest music seldom sounds so stupid. There is a kind of free fantasy attached to the vision and demographics of this music but its not necessarily one that feels developed or modern.

With a harsh set of fade outs attached to many of the tracks there is a real sense of Young wishing this album out of the way so that he can get on with his career.

Thesaurus moment: primordial.

Neil Young
Reprise

THE FALL – DRAGNET (STEP FORWARD)

THE FALL – DRAGNET (STEP FORWARD)

Recorded over three days in August of 1979 the second Fall album sees band still sounding resoundingly bloody minded with a snarling “grim up North” attitude that serves to further gnash at the ears of the listener.

Following up “Live At The Witch Trials” there is a definite step up on the sound here which, without losing the jagged edge of their debut, manages to bulk up with a denser element to their output.  From the previous lineup only Mark E. Smith and Marc Riley remained as this served as the entry point for Craig Scanlon and Steve Hanley who would eventually remain as the longest (and most loyal) servants to the cause.

Representing something of an expansion of the ideas from their debut this is where elements/influences such as Can and Beefheart play as much a role in the band’s sound as all the punk and post punk surround at the time.

The ball doesn’t take long to start rolling and kick off as Smith loudly enquires “is there anybody there?” and “Psyckick Dancehall” opens proceedings.  From here the track begins wailing as he demonstrates happiness in amplification and the sound of his own voice.  In a way you sense if he wasn’t manning a microphone in a band he would equally be rocking the PA at a factory or supermarket.  As the song storms forward halfway through it rides a calypso bridge, foraging an unexpected path.

Afterwards the horrific “A Figure Walks” adds a degree of horror to proceedings while the elevation of “Printhead” serves to thrill as the song hangs in the air prior to unleashing its force (via quotes extracted of reviews).  “Diceman” isn’t a whole lot different either as the Luke Rhinehart inspired snarl does sound like the punk was still as relevant as it once was.

“Just take for instance a time of great depression.”

“Your Heart Out” is the money shot.  There is genuine sweetness to the song even though Smith is doing his best to sound undesirable.  Its all in the playing, the wonderfully light structure and upbeat tone that sticks in the mind and comes the closest to anything pop and coherent.  Could it be possible to kiss to a Fall song?

From here the album manages to maintain a sense of fun with the leisurely “Flat Of Angles” and its dizzying swing.  Then there is pain “Spectre Vs Rector” which appears to spend a large portion of its duration moving furniture and tuning up.  This isn’t pop, its practice.

As with all early Fall records the scratchy guitars serve to bludgeon the listener.  The product isn’t perfect, often sounding damaged.  It’s the greatest feeling.

Two albums in, two sessions of joy.

Thesaurus moment: vexatious.

The Fall

Step Forward

THE BREEDERS – POD (4AD)

THE BREEDERS – POD (4AD)

Twins have always been a terrifying concept to me. All throughout my life whenever I have encountered a set there has always been one who I disliked or they disliked me (or it was mutual).

Sounding as if butter wouldn’t melt in its mouth the first Breeders album arrives in charming fashion serving up a series of appetizers that lull the listener into a false of security and transfixing them in a delicate daze. The harmonies that arise from the off come with sense of aloof menace, one that attaches itself through the entire duration of the record and that suggests a degree/level of ESP running through the authors of this work. All in all it insinuates a set of circumstances that can only end in tears.

Unsurprisingly the familiarity of and relation to the Pixies looms heavy over the music, sounding like the legends performing on downers or even possibly at the wrong speed. This is divine and playful stuff. Then the trademark Albini drum sound comes in arriving as subtle as a brick. Yet the tranquillity remains.

A Creepy Crawl atmosphere feels most exposed with their Beatles cover and the finest version of “Happiness Is A Warm Gun” that is ever likely to be committed to vinyl (including the original), which brings a confused air to proceedings.

The gnarly sarcasm flows all the way through the record as “Oh!” just sounds as if the band are drunk having found a violin tucked away in a corner. The simplicity of “Hellbound” stands out as they nonchalantly power out the most ringing of efforts with equal ease.

There is a sweet naivety to the playing of the record, one that suggests adventure and screams side project. Ultimately you get the impression that this record was originally designed to be more fun than competent and as “When I Was A Painter” loops to a conclusion sounding like a person playing on drugs not knowing when to stop, stuck on a mental carousel they are unable to disembark from. In such relaxed surroundings this only adds to the fun.

“Iris” serves as the watermark, the highpoint, the bomb of the album. As Kim sings “oh c’mon, nobody wants that” it conjures up the kind of image that goes with the general being and atmosphere of the album, one of reluctant conflict and intoxicated situations lasting late into the evening through to the following morning. With this song in particular there is a sense of poetic struggle.

Ultimately on this record you can tell that it has been given a lot breathing space, the opportunity to play around with ideas and emotions that may have been otherwise stifled in the members’ various other day jobs.

It finishes satisfyingly strongly with all elements coming together in the fiercest of fashions as Deal’s vocals (and harmonies) gain power in parallel with the added force of the guitar sound all culminating in “Limehouse” as true excitement for life prevails.

If only all first dates could be so special.

Thesaurus moment: ringer.

The Breeders
4AD

ARAB STRAP – THE WEEK NEVER STARTS ROUND HERE (CHEMIKAL UNDERGROUND)

ARAB STRAP – THE WEEK NEVER STARTS ROUND HERE (CHEMIKAL UNDERGROUND)

I actually received this record as a Christmas present back in 1996. I am pretty sure when my mother was buying it in Ipswich she wasn’t quite aware of what the contents of the package was all about. A few days later I found myself in Covent Garden Rough Trade on our then traditional post-Christmas record shopping trip as “The Clearing” came on the shop stereo and sounded like the hugest song of the moment.

It was actually “The First Big Weekend” that saw Arab Strap arrive on the music scene with a real money shot, a single that gained repeated Radio One airplay back when it mattered and eventually wound up on a Guinness TV advertisement. This song was unique and truly original, nothing sounded like then or since.

This is a perfect album, succinctly and efficiently representing and describing a strand of existence not necessarily focal or vocal in music, media or art. In many forms Aidan and Malcolm were the true anti-heroes of lo-fi, the ones most likely to be the person looking back in the mirror of the listener. This was not a time when life was amazing or people were thriving, when nights out and social experience was necessarily pleasure as the powers that be would have you believe. In a strange way this record sounds nihilistic and damaged but never negative. It’s cold and sardonic but not strictly hostile or aggressive, it doesn’t hate it just doesn’t have any time for you. It’s beaten, tired and struggling to relax. Indeed in songs such as “Gourmet” there is real beauty, albeit fleeting and ultimately unfulfilling.

You could listen to music for a hundred years and fail to find an album more Scottish and representative of the times and existence of being so as the millennium came crashing to an end. Legend has it that Moffat and Middleton bonded over releases on the Drag City label but never were any of the releases from that label ever so explicit and direct.

There is no second guessing with Arab Strap. When in “Driving” they sing about agreeing on the fact that “your sister helped us wank” this is not high end philosophy with any kind of underlying meaning, it’s a kind of crassness for crass sake to display just what is going on in their world and how their upbringing and environment have made them the people and artists that they are now. This was Irvine Welsh without the flab and it should have made them superstars immediately.

The stark minimalism of “I Work In A Saloon” reads like a skinny Scottish version of Saturday Night Sunday Morning ripping into the trivia of a demeaning existence and the mess that comes at the conclusion of a moment born out of boredom and a weird kind of necessity. The accompanying guitar line and repetitive drumbeat make for a perfect layering of such sentiments and the lack of fanfare in such existence. Almost immediately afterwards “Wasting” covers the same territory as if built from being on the opposite side of proceedings although at least this time this song reaches some kind of conclusion at the close of the repetition and the album sinks to a despondent and chemical level.

As the album arrives at “The First Big Weekend” the track serves to pick up proceedings with a euphoric read through of high times built on/from nothing, the kind of times that grab you and sweep you away with the flow. The references within the song are so tangible that the right listener literally pops with enjoyment as a generation and a moment gets concisely described with the most vivid accuracy of the time. The references to The Simpsons and Euro 96 give the song a real date stamped on it (15 June 1996) assisting the listener to look back and recount their own big weekends. As the pace of the song ups, so does the experience and urgency in addition to the basic enjoyment and triumph attached to what we do and will always do. Such upbeat takes on vivid routine are always going to be the things that will get us through.

The calm of the storm arrives in the reflective “Kate Moss” that aches of some kind of resignation that existence is not destined to resemble what we had hoped for us, the kind of world that daytime television tries to shove down our throats while heavily promoting Saturday evening game shows.

As the album draws to a close the subject matter of the songs more and more begin to sound like drunken odes to wasted opportunities with the fairer sex and moments of high emotion now being spat out and pissed upon in a most cold fashion. With hindsight such failure is obvious but at the eye of the storm within these songs everything feels real and permitted, muddled and ridiculous. They ain’t too proud to beg, especially on “Phone Me Tonight” that staunchly assembles the sound of turmoil and loss.

The penultimate song “Blood” is a bitter narrative of being cheated on and contains one of my all time favourite lines from any song in “well he can fucking keep that fickle fucking disco tart”. This may not be the most pleasant or politically correct of lines but it just accurately/basically represents the emotions, sentiments and feelings of a person put in such a position/situation.

The album ends with “Deeper” which is a song that I don’t think Arab Strap ever topped or bettered. Using a unique storytelling method, the lengthy narrative device clearly describes an experience and moment in time with a clarity seldom heard in music anywhere. I hate to use the word “tender” in conjunction with Arab Strap but this is what exudes from the climatic closer as some kind of wish fulfilment occurs in the mind of Moffat that may or may not have transpired in reality. For his sake, you hope it did.

Over the years this album has truly served me well and is always the Arab Strap record I keep coming back to. As things were captured to perfection the minimalism of the piece is so stark and loud in comparison to their records that would follow, the ones with all tricks and dressing up. When the words were like this none of those frills were ever required. I can truly say that this record is unique and there is nothing like it in my collection.

Hey I know that guy.

Thesaurus moment: string.

Arab Strap
Arab Strap interview
Chemikal Underground

KATE NASH – FOUNDATIONS (FICTION)

KATE NASH – FOUNDATIONS (FICTION)

Using her subtle cockney/mockney accent to full use and singing in the manner that Lily Allen talks; for a long time now Kate Nash has been promising much and charming many with her smart and sensitive lyrical observations all packaged in her pretty girl next door ensemble of dark brown eyes, big hair and awkwardness. I have to admit the package reminds me of heyday Tracey Ullman.

A song that definitely improves with additional listens, with “Foundations” somehow she crowbars the longest hook into a chorus for a very long time as the song clearly dissects a rather spiky relationship with a manner that is truly admirable. I almost feel I know this girl because I dislike her smart arse attitude.

Many years ago I was trawling my arse around town, going out with a girl who was wilfully stringing me along as I picked up every bill to every restaurant and often found myself smothering her with gifts and unrequited love. Had I had this record around those naïve times, perhaps I would have spotted certain signals, signs and trends sooner. Instead as every other meeting descended into arguments and battles that I would win, eventually losing the war I found myself uttering the legendary words “I like it when I make you cry” to her just because I thought it showed she cared. In fact it was actually her playing me like a fiddle. And how do I know this? Kate Nash just wrote the lyrics “but it gives me thrills to wind you up.”

And this is the real reason for the Parental Advisory Sticker.

The fact that this record has reached number two in the charts really signifies changing times, either demonstrating how cheapened the single format has become or actually how a whole new era and range of talented musicians are now likely to benefit. As to which reality this record actually represents remains open to debate but with consideration for the latter possibility, this amazing record certain represents that train of thought.

On this occasion the single is backed with “Navy Taxi”, a less bolshy song devoid of the front of “Foundations.” Still it remains introspective with its narration and is something of a display of the remorseful side little Ms Nash, piano led and sweet. You could almost forgive her arrogance of the a-side.

Thesaurus moment: aplomb.

Kate Nash
Fiction

SONIC YOUTH – 100% (DGC)

SONIC YOUTH – 100% (DGC)

It cannot be denied that this was probably the first Sonic Youth song that my generation ever heard. In the midst of the Nirvana hype while I was still at school occasionally the skate themed video would appear on MTV and basically anyone in my circle that saw it would immediately lose their shit. One kid called Chris Wright even based his bowl hairstyle on Steve Shelley’s version of the model. Chris by the way was last seen heading to Amsterdam in chase of a lady. This after a spell of playing bass in an Ocean Colour Scene type band but I’ll digress.

In subsequent years anyone worth their indie stripes has listened to every Sonic Youth album past and present as they come and go but I genuinely the period that was Dirty remains there best as their noisiest, best recorded, most ferocious and generally the height of the incendiary intensity displaying them at their most driven.

“100%” opens with noise oppression from the right. Then from the left direction more stinging sound strikes and suddenly all becomes blurred until it gets harnessed and a huge hulking riff cuts through proceedings giving the song an almost pop direction while not sacrificing any of the noise or might of the tools at hand. This is not playing, this is sculpting.

Effortlessly cool Thurston sings in an almost dribbled murmur, mumbling sweet nothings that are really addressing a nasty murder in the community. This is the way people deal in the grunge era it would seem.

There is no fucking about with this record, it goes for the jugular in ways the majority of alternative and indie musicians can only dream of. It is noise rock but delivered at the hands of experts who know what they are doing, effortlessly cool in a laidback motion suggesting a truly higher intellect.

Elsewhere on the disc follows the schizophrenic “Crème Brulee” which also appears on the transcending Dirty and opens sounding like another Sonic Youth composition that could have seen them rolling with the Manson family before melting into a drunk sounding ode caked in suffocation. Next “Genetic” strikes in the kind of exuberant fashion that most Lee Renaldo led compositions express; he is the king of the upbeat chord change when it comes to this band.

The fantastically christened “Hendrix Necro” closes out the CD single suggesting an attempt at combining the classic rock sound of Jimi with the hardcore sounds of the vibrant violent early eighties. It’s a Kim song, scathing and Riot Grrrl sounding that could have been equally at home on a Free Kitten record. Halfway through the track falls apart, turning into a swirling mess and sonic explosion. No fear.

With a video that features Jason Lee in skating mode years before Kevin Smith discovered his acting skills, Kim looking amazing in a Rolling Stones shirt and a sad back story regarding former friend Joe Cole, “100%” is a very loaded song working on many levels with many messages.

This is what happens with lightning strikes.

Thesaurus moment: dent.

Sonic Youth
DGC

DEVO – Q: ARE WE NOT MEN? A: WE ARE DEVO (VIRGIN RECORDS)

DEVO – Q: ARE WE NOT MEN? A: WE ARE DEVO (VIRGIN RECORDS)

Very few debut albums are filled with as much fun as Are We Not Men. In order to attain such a highly tuned sense of humour a group of individuals really need to be born and blessed with magic or had to suffer a really testing set of circumstances and experiences in order to reach this viewpoint. With this in mind such reflections really do need to be channelled into some kind of form of expression, maybe art, maybe a career but regardless it is the trait that will set a person above the standard set by the rest. To be confronted with such music you sense a large part of the author’s intention is to make the listener feel uneasy, to touch a nerve and bring them through into a brighter and more understanding/optimistic time and place, to make circumstances generally better for all.

The album opens with “Uncontrollable Urge”, a dizziness experience that contains a chunky looping riff that even the most stunted of person should be able to remember and retain, even find themselves able to play on a guitar.

As the strains of “Satisfaction” drop in and one of the key moments of the Rolling Stones legacy is deconstructed, there is a definite weirdness to proceedings, a sound that is unique and has never been heard before. What are they doing to Mick and Keef? Where do people like this come from? What would they be doing if they weren’t making music? Are they Scientologists?

By the third track “Praying Hands” it is obvious that higher powers are at work with this record as things turn distinctly evangelic and with the spuds as followers the band is building a true movement around their beliefs of devolution and the stupidity of modern man.

The centre piece of the album is the double whammy of “Mongoloid” and “Jocko Homo”. Compared to the original single versions of these songs, with Brian Eno at the helm he was able to really harness the DEVO sound and lend it more punch and weight. No longer were the songs so lo-fi and the bass sound and vocals were now clearer and more piercing without jeopardising any of the weirdness or character of the originals.

From here the record takes a distinctly dark turn. Any song called “Too Much Paranoia” will always be one that addresses a fragile state of mind and fear of a ruling body, being it local or global. It has screaming and a guitar riff that sounds as if it is made out of rubber. Such fears are then realised on “Gut Feeling” which is a song truly doused in legitimate worry and concern that are subsequently experienced as things mutate into “(Slap Your Mammy)”, a hardcore punk song before hardcore punk was even invented.

Following is “Come Back Jonee” and one final request being sent out for someone special to return to the fold of reality. The song is delivered with real urgency and sadness sounding like a true desperate plea. There is always an option, even if you are Chuck Berry.

As things close on “Shrivel Up”, a perfect conclusion is performed and executed as the sound of a band being returned to the toy box is served. This is perhaps the most paranoid song on the album. It’s a god given fact.

This record will change your life if you want it changed.

Thesaurus moment: furtherance.

DEVO
Virgin Records

VARIOUS – BUFFALO 66 THE ORIGINAL MOTION PICTURE SOUNDTRACK (WILL RECORDS)

VARIOUS – BUFFALO 66 THE ORIGINAL MOTION PICTURE SOUNDTRACK (WILL RECORDS)

For quite a while I found myself obsessed with the movie Buffalo 66. When it first emerged on satellite TV it was only ever shown in the early hours and more than a couple of times I would find myself cutting drunken nights short to head home and watch it on Sky. The film arrived in my life at a time where all the pieces fit. Like Billy Brown I felt that things generally represented something of a lost cause, everyone around me was just as fucked up as me and that revenge was the key. In Buffalo 66 though, despite all these negative connotations, it all still seemed cool and adventurous. Perhaps by listening to the music on this record I may find my own Christina Ricci also.

In the end I wound up paying almost £20 for this CD on import buying it from the soundtrack section in the Virgin Megastore on the corner of Oxford Street. Over the years however it has proved worth every penny.

Much like the movie the soundtrack begins with “Lonely Boy” by Gallo himself, a song that fails to stop short of creepy considering its author but with this it manages to retain a strange kind of beauty with a sentiment that could be seen as self pitying coming from a different direction. For once this entails positive baggage and more a declaration of self awareness as opposed to wallowing in sadness. The peace that accompanies this piece is a rare angelic expression from an individual so awash in a desperate mindset and situation.

Soon several tracks of harrowing ambience (“A Wet Cleaner”) and urban beats and grind (“Drowning In Brown”) serve to give both the movie and soundtrack some kind of pace/groove/rhythm, a pulse that drives proceedings forwards and on.

Right now as I write this I am playing this record very loudly with the windows open in the hope that it annoys the neighbours. This is a contention that feels rather apt to this release at this time. And now I am genuinely great moment playing desk keyboards to “Heart Of The Sunrise” followed by rum drunkenly singing along to “Sweetness”. More of that later.

I genuinely believe that this album is a magnificent piece of work, a record worthy of the opinion that Gallo probably has of it. Within it manages to perfectly convey and express the emotion of such exciting troubled times in a manner that manages to squeeze out emotions from the listener as designed and intended.

Towering on the record are the prog rock selections, the cuts from King Crimson and Yes. This all comes from Gallo’s odd appreciation and fondness for music of such ilk (which once saw me suggesting that my boss should work with Gallo for some credibility). Due to the connotations of the use of “Heart Of The Sunrise” in the movie a whole new meaning and intensity gets drawn and attached to the song. Seldom rarely in film has a song been stapled to a sequence in such a powerful and exciting manner. With this appearance a whole new level of credibility and coolness is lent to the track, a feat that would be pretty impossible to muster in more cynically driven hands. It is Yes for fucks sake, a favourite band of beards the age of your dad.

Eventually the record comes to a dour close with another of Gallo’s workouts (as opposed to the upbeat ending in the movie that comes from Yes). It’s a mixture gesture with a mixed judgement.

This was the sound of being truly indie cool at the turn of the century.

Thesaurus moment: arsehole.

Vincent Gallo
Buffalo 66
Will Records

FMB – JAMES (GOLDROCKER)

FMB – JAMES (GOLDROCKER)

This was a very strange discovery on eBay. In the early nineties Channel Four had a TV series called The Next Big Thing which along with The Real World was one of the very first reality TV shows and this particular example followed an indie band called FMB when British indie was very much the kind of fraggle rock of Mega City Four and Ned’s Atomic Dustbin (as your parents) that was very studenty and very grungy. This was an era in which indie bands did not appear to be afraid to make a noise and were genuinely an alternative music option, rightly disliked by parents and somewhat strangers to the Top 40 and mainstream pop coverage who would occasionally dent these media outlets in what would seem something of a victory to those not quite on the more popular rave ticket and likely to be frown upon and picked on by society in general. There was however strength in numbers attached to being part of this movement.

FMB were a fun band, too homely to really “make it” and gritty and real enough to appeal to the legions of indie fans often awkward and snobbish about their music selections. Unfortunately however in the industry nobody would touch the band as the TV series was seen as the kiss of death as it made them also appear slightly contrived, getting something of an undeserved leg up when at the time there were literally hundreds of bands that could be featuring on this new vehicle, TV show, bands that had already been slogging away for several years and to be honest more deserved such coverage. This was way before Simon Cowell and sunlight had yet to be let in on the magic of the music industry and such TV shows were not yet considered as corrupt as they are now.

So now over fifteen years later I discover that the band reformed and recorded their “hit” from the series with view to giving it “a second go.” My god this would appear to be an error of astronomical proportions. People have grown up, people have moved on.

Listening to FMB now is a weird experience. I must concede I thought the band were cool when I saw them on the show. This was about three years before we started Gringo Records so I didn’t really know the true/full ins and outs of independent music.

It is weird listening to this song now. I don’t recognise it. The rock is gone, the energy is gone but what remains is the chorus but the hook is now caked is overblown catastrophe. When stuck with me from the TV show was the NME review that ended “future mayhem beckons.” No it doesn’t. What instead occurs is a whitewash and a glib example of trying too hard. This is the sound of a band pandering. At their age they really should have known better.

Did they learn nothing with their previous adventures? Too little too late.

Thesaurus moment: recede.

FMB

SEBADOH – HARMACY (DOMINO)

SEBADOH – HARMACY (DOMINO)

This I think is where Sebadoh hit the right balance and made the album of their career. Whereas usually the smart money goes on Bubble And Scrape being their defining moment, Harmacy really is an astonishing accomplishment as a nineteen song collection devoid of any filler but instead some of the strongest tracks the band ever delivered. This should have been the record that saw them on Top Of The Pops and touching our hearts.

For the longest time Sebadoh were one of the best kept secrets of the grunge era. They were on Sub Pop (in the US) but nobody seemed to be paying attention to them, preferring instead to concentrate on the modern day hair bands with metal leaning tendencies. I guess in many ways Sebadoh were hardcore punks that had gone soft, opting instead to concentrate now on songwriting with didn’t really fit the flannel shirt bill. Also they wore glasses and at that point real men did not wear glasses. Originally they were supposed to support Nirvana on their tour in 1994 but when Kurt did what he did that plan all went to pieces and any plan for exposure and miniscule domination was no longer going to happen.

Harmacy arrived in 1996 and it felt like perfect timing. With a new movement of home grown US inspired talent making waves suddenly lo-fi was hip (although this record does not necessarily sound overly lo-fi). When the band toured the UK in October that year and I saw them at the Astoria the record had already been a summer hit for me and now I was making new friends and seeing a band with statue.

There is quite a definite line on this record between the Lou songs and the Jason songs. Basically Lou crooned and Jason rocked. Together as I said above both styles royally complimented one another and something of a new perfect record had fallen into place.

Proceedings begin with “On Fire” and Lou crooning his scrappy sentiments with great sentiments in away that was OK for the white boy indie blues generation to buy into without looking stupid or immature. Or so we thought. It shouldn’t work as an album opener but somehow it just does.

Things pick up royally as “Prince-S” displays a more direct side of the band, still the victim but no longer falling so easily as before. By the end of the track the engine is truly revving and the album is underway.

With “Ocean” things get playful and silly in both music and verse. I swear he is still singing about his dick and some nonchalant lady making life hell but at least now the chops are light-hearted and verging on comical, a point that is emphasised by the whining cry-baby video filmed in front of a true heavy metal audience. Thank god there is a sense of humour at the heart of this record.

By the fourth track “Nothing Like You” you get the feeling that you have been put through the emotional wringer enough already. Somehow proceedings manage to get even sappier than “On Fire” but in the likelihood of the listener being lovelorn and failing to get his end away it serves its purpose. Later Lou strikes again with the track “Willing To Wait”, which can be taken either way depending on the disposition and timing of the listener. Teenage Fanclub were getting away with it at the time so why shouldn’t Sebadoh.

“Crystal Gypsy” provides the first real noise workout, blowing away the cobwebs that will have emerged from the first four tracks on the album. It swings from side to side like a temper tantrum of the most righteous kind.

As “Beauty Of The Ride” kicks in it arrives with a real flourish the pace of the record increases even further as the song sounds like a natural single pitching a kind of urgency that to this point of the record had been drastically lacking in proceedings.

“Mind Reader” maintains the strength of the middle order as the streak remains heavy and bounding, almost sounding like a drunken toddler on some kind of Lego rampage. Still you can’t help but think he is singing about his dick and some prick teasing woman.

The second side opens with “Zone Doubt” and perhaps the best sync of pop hooks and awkward sounds that appears on this record. Quite frankly the choruses here are to die for, the kind of stuff that snags me and makes me feel young again. This is the true magic of Sebadoh.

Concentrating on the noise tracks “Mind Reader” presents the most lo-fi proposition of the record in the most agonising song of the album with yet another song about the suffrage of his dick and the lady making its life hell. There really does seem to be an underlying agony to this record, the celebration of rejection for the skinny, geeky guy getting sand kicked in his face by the smart lady in glasses that likes twisting indie rock stars around her little finger. Indeed “that’s the worst thing you could do.” This could easily have been a Pavement song. Likewise “Love To Fight” that follows quickly afterwards manages to sound like The Jesus Lizard. This is at times quite dirty stuff.

Things close out strongly after “Perfect Way” takes the sappy route and “Can’t Give Up” is another lumpy song of heart attack and hooks. “Open Ended” then offers some kind of introspection manipulating the best of both worlds from this record, building to a real climax in the process even if it doesn’t really reach any kind of philosophical conclusion.

The instrumental “Weed Against Speed” plays out like a closing credits accompaniment that expounds no words but with its aching tempo changes in its playing along with the song title serves quite explicitly with its intentions. Perhaps this is where the hidden conclusion of the album is housed, maybe this was the point at which the band had it all worked out.

By way of one last shock to the system Sebadoh sound as if they are falling down the stairs as they fire out a cover of The Bags “I Smell A Rat” at a frenetic pass displaying that they can still run with young pups and indeed the big dogs. They needed to with Courtney Love briefly sniffing around.

Harmacy is one of those great records that sits in your collection and sadly often you forget about until every now and then something jogs your memory as to the utter class of the record and how fond you remember the times. The summer of 1996 in rose tinted glasses was an exceptional time for me and when I finally saw Sebadoh playing live supporting this record suddenly I was on my way to beginning a lo-fi record label with some new friends. Times seldom got any better.

Thesaurus moment: medicinal.

Sebadoh
Domino

CAT ON FORM – DEMO

CAT ON FORM – DEMO

Cat On Form were a dense Fugazi influenced act from Brighton that wound up being signed by Southern, which came as a surprise to many of us who had been plugging away in/at the circuit for some time before them.

This is the two track demo they sent to us at Gringo Records complete with letter touching base. Unfortunately it reached us too late arriving just as things had stumbled.

The vocals are more Guy than Ian and there feels a healthy dose of Huggy Bear attached to proceedings as much like the rest of us at the time they were trying very hard to “keep it real.”

Listened to now five years after the event it makes for pleasant pine. I always though “Oh No! Telephone Rings” was a dopey song name but the actual song is frantic in a superior manner caked with lots of jagged stops and drops paired with some meticulous playing and ample amounts of urgent sounding shouting. Following comes the equally amusingly moniker “Back Off Man, I’m A Scientist” which is a real gut churner of a shanty chiming like a grandfather clock and scoring a sad expressions all even before the screaming dual vocals come in. Pretty good.

All in all this represents a time in the early noughties where DIY bands influenced by grunge and US indie were stepping into hardcore territory Fugazi style without actually necessarily harbouring the garbage squat punk mentality. In other words in comparison to Maximum Rock N Roll fodder (briefly in the UK represented by Fracture etc) this was a scene all too middle class to ever really be punk, a scene set in the underclass and fucking staying there. There was no future in it, just giving it a go.

Thesaurus moment: read.

Cat On Form

Cat On Form live

SIX BY SEVEN – THE WAY I FEEL TODAY (BEGGARS BANQUET)

SIX BY SEVEN – THE WAY I FEEL TODAY (BEGGARS BANQUET)

Hailing from Nottingham Six By Seven where a strange proposition, a band that never quite seemed to find a single identity as they proceeded to spread themselves quite thinly in search of some kind of success and acclaim balance, of which they both good in relatively successful degrees but not really enough to make a long career out of.

Perhaps the band tried too hard. Certainly I recall in interviews how the singer (name not remembered) liked to boast of the band’s scary background in Nottingham and how violent his background was. Having friends in Nottingham you were able to believe the stories about the place but not necessary his position in the partaking of such moments and there laid the rub. They were convincing no one. Six By Seven were ultimately a band that did not fit in which was a bad thing when you sensed that they so wanted to.

This was their third album by which time I think their opportunity/chance had passed them by. Never really accepted by the rock audience in the way say a Muse were in a way despite their alternative noise leanings (badly executed) they were slipping into Mansun territory with elongated pieces that would seen them gazing at their shoes and a dozen record label procured pedals.

It is not to say that they weren’t without their moments as this record indeed pulls out of the blocks in impressive fashion but it is in a blustering manner rather than a devastating one. More or less everything they did felt like a business decision.

With tracks such as “Flypaper For Freaks” there is a genuine visceral charge attached to proceedings (likewise with “Speed Is In, Speed Is Out”) but when things begin to droop they do so in negatively spectacular fashion as they severely peter out.

A song such as “Karen O” displays the worst kind of jagged sound being sculpted and reduced into some kind of Marillion territory. Later when things attempt to become deep and meaningful with “American Beer” it just feels cheesy and overblown with an overriding sense of trying too hard exhibiting vocals that actually remind me of Peter Gabriel at his most trite.

Over the course and duration of the album they wheel out a number of lengthy and fuzzy noise tunes but these don’t ever really seem to go or get anywhere. Perhaps it might work on a Primal Scream record but there the sound would be equipped with beats to bolster and shoulder the abandon through.

If I hadn’t already heard it done better it might have been less shit.

Thesaurus moment: fish.

Six By Seven
Beggars Banquet

GUNS N’ ROSES – YOU COULD BE MINE (GEFFEN)

GUNS N’ ROSES – YOU COULD BE MINE (GEFFEN)

This really was the last throw for hair metal in many respects. GNR were the final warriors living out that poodle lifestyle that just about still came with a bite when they did it. At the time it was easy to hate Guns N’ Roses because quite frankly their fans were idiots.

Smart comments aside this is a song that holds up surprisingly well. At a time when memory looks back on hair metal as being one trick and embarrassing, distance looks on at Guns N’ Roses in good favour, especially considering the joke of a tribute band the brand has now turned into.

Creaming with vitality there is a sustained sense of attack lent to the extended intro of this song. Just as things were about to get overblown here was one point where the playing lived up to expectations without taking things too far and wrecking the record. It is testament to the music that it is a good few minutes before the vocals of Axl land on proceedings seemingly intent on turning the air cheesy.

It has been funny to hear the opening bridge of this song appear in various hipper indie and alternative rock hits through the years. I swear you can hear this song is both “Freakin’ Out” by Graham Coxon and a couple of the more direct early Oasis tunes. Such is the universally stonking effect of this composition. This is a passage of entrance where it seems every member of the band is given their moment to shine.

With the recurring logo and fonts used there almost feels something regimental about the packaging.

Of course it is an embarrassing gesture to actually play this out loud now. What on earth are the sentiments behind this record? Is it really an ode to some lucky lady that she might be given the opportunity to be a heavy metaller’s girlfriend if she plays her cards right? Yeah the early nineties were quite a confusing time then too.

On the flipside is “Civil War” which I seem to remember was later released as an EP in its own right as the bottom of the Use Your Illusion barrel was being scraped. It definitely begs the question as to why would a person want to eventually buy a song that has already been used (thrown away) as a b-side. Then again clocking in at 7 minutes 38 seconds in a strange way there is a perverse VFM element to it. Such was the money making machine that was Guns N’ Roses back in the day (all shits no giggles).

In a strange way not bad for a record featuring the future of governor of California rocking a sawn off shotgun on its cover. We live in a strange world.

Thesaurus moment: product

Guns N’ Roses
Geffen

MUDHONEY – THIS GIFT (SUB POP)

MUDHONEY – THIS GIFT (SUB POP)

Sounding initially like an angry dog playing with its toy in an aggressive manner this is without doubt one of Mudhoney’s finest moments, a true accomplishment that sees them at the height of their powers effectively combing the gnarly fuzzed up sound to full effect while Mark Arm’s words come in loud and clear with some of the most sinister sounding poetry he has ever been able to author.

With a whammy bar be effectively executed with view to causing a commotion the guitar sound is truly unique, distorted in a manner that so many mimics have attempted but never been able to achieve. At this point I feel I am gushing as much as the amplification.

What “This Gift” is is obvious. It is also slightly disturbing signifying a real intention to do bad things. All of a sudden in the cold light of day you begin to wonder just how it is that the band are getting away with saying things like this. It is a really thick paste of sarcasm and irony that fill the lyrical content of this machine being hyperbolic and potentially truly offensive to anyone that isn’t in on the joke, which I guess is just where the rebellion lies. I can’t imagine ever playing this to/with a girl and getting away with it and likewise when I was younger and playing this as loud as the volume would allow me I now wonder just what it was my parents were thinking. How come I was so aloof to the lyrics at the time? Perhaps it was down to the glory of the guitars and the confusion clouds that came with.

This single is up there with “Touch Me I’m Sick”, if not better. This is grunge not garage and when the video features a series of buildings falling down it perfectly matches the mindset of its audience at the time. Truly a record that sounded as if it could accompany the world falling down, scarily almost twenty years down the line it still sounds as huge an achievement as ever. For once the music of the scene matched the hype.

On the flipside appears “Baby Help Me Forget” which is actually a song originally by Mr Epp (the original band of Arm and Turner). It is brief and startling, unsurprisingly compact and fuzzy with not necessarily the nicest of message.

Thesaurus moment: rape.

Mudhoney
Sub Pop

ALICE IN CHAINS – ROOSTER (COLUMBIA RECORDS)

ALICE IN CHAINS – ROOSTER (COLUMBIA RECORDS)

Rooster is the centrepiece of the diamond of the Alice In Chains catalogue: Dirt. Coming with some kind of Vietnam war back story you are purposely led to believe that there are hidden depths to this epic, a meaning bigger and on a larger scale than most Alice In Chains songs. From the off the song carries itself in a distinctly looming manner that gives proceedings a very majestic feel held in captivation.

In Layne Staley and Jerry Cantrell here were two very talented songwriters sitting comfortably in both metal and alternative rock circles/modes. Here were/are two players at the top of their game able to do things with their given instruments (voice and guitar) that truly sounded unique and served to make them stand out in a crowd of latecomers, chancers and wannabes. I don’t think you could go as far as to actually describe Alice In Chains as a grunge band but with them wearing the right clothes, talking about dark subjects and being the right place at the right time they definitely held a respectable stake in the era (they just lacked indie Sub Pop cred).

Not being an American it is kind of tough to get behind the sentiment and experiences being described in the song. When however Cantrell hits a power chord it easily resembles an explosion in anybody’s mind. That said in these with so much of being spent fighting a relatively invisible enemy in the Middle East it wouldn’t be too much of a reach to suggest that a whole new generation of “Rooster” types are waiting to retire in disgrace. With this in mind this song retains something of a topical edge, possessing as much meaning for some as did upon arrival in the early nineties.

Elsewhere on the disc is “Sickman” which was one of the more disorientating selections on Dirt, very dark and very druggy. Again as the song gets sucked up and put through some kind of desperate wringer it is the truly amazing vocal talents of Staley that come to the fore while the playing almost resembles some kind of psychedelic heavy metal.

The final track on the disc is “It Ain’t Like That” which was a song that actually appeared on their previous album Facelift and was probably most likely included here as it was a song the band were seen performing live onstage in the movie Singles.

At times this was definitely a great band.

Thesaurus moment: syndrome.

Alice In Chains
Columbia Records

TEENAGE FANCLUB – EVERYTHING FLOWS (PAPERHOUSE RECORDS)

TEENAGE FANCLUB – EVERYTHING FLOWS (PAPERHOUSE RECORDS)

There are few singles of the indie genre that are warmer than this song. With this song the Fannies are able to muster a genuine sense of longing with lines such as “I think about it everyday.”

It is perhaps this element that is most endearing about the music of Teenage Fanclub, how it feels prematurely old age but at the same time comforting and reassuring, still cool in the least way likely. Their songwriting is top notch able to convey the most earnest of feelings while accompanied by the perfect match of music that serves their personas spot on. Regardless of all the Big Star and The Byrds snipes this is one of the most genuine acts ever to grace the independent genre, all with skills to match.

“Everything Flows” has come to represent their set closing track in recent years. The structure of the song seems to take on two strides as the opening declarations of sensible reminiscence later move onto a prolonged but even tempered close that is perfect for extending and dragging out in a live setting. This song never loses it and neither do the minds attached.

One of their earliest singles the song comes with a wicked set of b-side tracks including a warped drum machine wig out by the name of “Primary Education” that sounds like Pavement subdued and stuck in a foreign country. Following comes “Speeder” which is a wonky instrumental run out that could follows the same cue as the previous track and could easily have been Mudhoney playing with children’s instruments. The final track is a Neil Young cover in the form of “Don’t Cry No Tears”, which at the end of the day is what they are good at.

The other cover on this record is that artwork from Jad Fair that makes up the sleeve. Tremendous stuff.

Thesaurus moment: toasty.

Teenage Fanclub

Paperhouse Records

BEASTIE BOYS – ROOT DOWN EP (CAPITOL)

BEASTIE BOYS – ROOT DOWN EP (CAPITOL)

Released quite a while after “Ill Communication” dropped the Root Down EP is an interesting ten song release seemingly put out to capitalise on the continued success and longevity of the album it came from.

A genuine mixed bag of items the first three tracks are variations of the title track with a Free Zone mix that adds the almost dark gothic beats that started to surround the scene around the period and a PP Balloon mix that completely dismantles the instrumentation of the song giving it a sparse and minimal expression interrupted by the occasionally expertly inserted sample.

The track “Root Down” itself appeared on the album as a juggernaut of a track sounding like a panicked early morning journey on the New York subway serving as some kind of declaration of defiance and announcement as to how they roll. As the name checks fly in the percussion rules supreme as the thumping bass serves up true motion.

The remainder of the EP takes the form of live tracks record in Europe during 1995 serving up a sweet mix of live reinventions of old favourites (“Time To Get Ill”, “The Maestro”), even spikier versions of their hardcore songs (“Heart Attack Man”, “Time For Livin”) and blissed out flabby extensions of their funk instrumental workouts (“Sabrosa”), all of which benefit from being exhibited in the live setting off the back of these performances.

A live version of “Something’s Got To Give” delivered in the vocal style of Frampton and caked in Atari 2600 sound clips closes the EP before launching into a brief hidden and apparent Hebrew version of “So Whatcha Want?”

Thesaurus moment: shrewd.

Beastie Boys
Grand Royal
Capitol

CLINIC – FUNF (DOMINO)

CLINIC - FUNF (DOMINO)

Many years ago I got really drunk after a Clinic show in Colchester and I wound up riding my friend’s post bike into the side of the Clinic tour transit. The sound that I made at the moment of collision was probably “funf!” Upon impact (which I swore to bystanders I was capable of avoiding) the Clinic players jumped out of the van and surrounded me. To this day I thank them for enquiring about my wellbeing rather than slapping me silly, a response I realistically deserved. Their reaction of “he’s just pissed” I feel was a lesson for us all.

With that in mind, this collection of b-sides and rarities is the kind of listen you employ on a day where you are feeling grateful and clement. Clinic have always been one of those near mainstream teasing weirdo bands like the Super Furry Animals that have managed to juggle a brilliant balance between Radio One airplay and maintain enough credibility to play All Tomorrow Parties.

This compilation is most definitely Clinic; skewered guitars cut though sheets of sound as the mostly instrumental fanfare appears to be a modern take on an era bygone in a seedy and investigative manner. I think the key to Clinic’s appeal has always been to make retro sound modern by bringing much vitality to their methods.

Considering this is a batch of odds and sods (technically off cuts) it is a tidy and compact little record with a hell of a lot to be taken from it ranging from the glam stomper “Magic Boots” to the playful US hardcore sounding “Nicht” through to “The Castle” which is the track that best represents the “sound” of Clinic with it’s song built a industrial generator-esqe noise and a heavy Hammond organ that sounds stolen from a cathedral.

Smartly the album closes with an apt finale in the form of “Golden Rectangle”, seemingly a Parisian surf song similar to Faith No More’s version of the Midnight Cowboy theme, there is true orchestration in Clinic’s music.

ANNUALS – BROTHER (ACE FU/VIRGIN)

ANNUALS - BROTHER (ACE FU/VIRGIN)

Something of a buzz band last year, for a long time it looked as if Annuals were (successfully) going straight after the legion of followers that find themselves satisfied by the proto weirdness of Arcade Fire. And now with major label backing they just might be about to get there.

Lurching acoustically, the single opens in a very majestic manner using techniques that bands such as Mercury Rev and the Flaming Lips have made a pretty penny out of executing for many years now. Once the song kicks in, it elevates into something of a genuine stomper with a truly mesmerising series of distorting effects. It is hard to grasp any idea as to just what may be playing on their mind as the spurt of energy and noise is a truly brief and cobweb clearing experience connected to their male sibling in ways they only know.

The b-side “River Run” is a boogie-woogie affair that a person could just imagine Jools Holland wanking all over if (when) performed on Later…. one Friday night in the not to distant future. Again it is more neo-psych in a pop direction that could well be accused of playing out as some kind of weird tribute to the fortieth anniversary of Sgt Pepper, complete with exploding wardrobe and running water sound effects. Hopefully there is a Monty Python-esqe sense of humour behind that is so overtly zany.

In this current musical climate, it seems a good time to be producing music such just like this.

ROBERT POLLARD – SILVERFISH TRIVIA EP (PROM IS COMING)

ROBERT POLLARD – SILVERFISH TRIVIA EP (PROM IS COMING)

A true hero of lo-fi recording and song writing, Robert Pollard consistently releases new material but unfortunately cannot be accused of regularly consistent releases. Ever since the sad demise of Guided By Voices the former school teacher has been in full on overdrive producing some of the most diverse releases of his lengthy career. Perhaps dissolving GBV lent him some kind of freedom fuelling his muse.

His first release of 2007, Silverfish Trivia is a seven song opus display how year in year out the former Guided By Voices dependably manages to come up with different and fresh sounding variations on the indie pop song form.

Opening with “Come Outside”, this is a string led lo-fi symphony, perhaps the theme music to the decadent elder statesman of indie rock that Bob Pollard has grown into over the years (equally though, it could be used as the theme to a remake of Black Beauty I feel).

Described by some as an adventure into prog for Bob, the EP often leaps into the grade A song writing of abstract references (e.g. the X-Men and the Wicker Man) and killer hooks and the Postal Blowfish palate is finally satisfied.

Without doubt the highlight of the EP is the seven minute epic “Cats Love A Parade” which would not sound of place on a Flaming Lips record. I believe this must be the lengthiest GBV related track in history as it saunters with grace, desire and wonder taking in all the classic Robert Pollard poses before taking a wonderful Pavement-esqe sidestep to insure things do not become staid or boring. Perhaps an exercise in the expression of the legendary intoxication that goes hand in hand with this music, this is almost narcotic.

Book ended by a string led outro this is a reassuring nod that stars can shine forever.

Robert Pollard

DAN DEACON – SPIDERMAN OF THE RINGS (CARPARK RECORDS)

DAN DEACON – SPIDERMAN OF THE RINGS (CARPARK RECORDS)

Much as the album title suggests there is a lot confusion attached to this record, a spliced up infantile nine track bundle of joy and agony all at the same time. If Warren from There’s Something Like Mary ever made or had a favourite record album, it might well sound like this (im)peach.

In some circles Dan Deacon is being taunted as the new Wesley Willis but as affectionate as that comparison might be (and he does appear to have something of an obsession with snakes that can only end in tears) often I more reminded of soundtracks that Mark Mothersbaugh creates and produces along with the most oblique of Beck’s releases.

Sounding if it came straight from a child’s playroom this is an infuriating listen, amateur and immature but you get the impression that this is how it is intended to be. With the knowledge that Mr Deacon is a man that is revered and (I am told) classically trained, this record feels like the result of a persona that is the musical equivalent of Borat which very much makes the listener the mark, the chump and ultimately the cheated.

If think the best employment for this record would be to be used in hospitals to bring children out of comas, it has to be said that this record is not without fun quirks but if you can emerge at the other end of this record without feeling nauseous nor suffering from a migraine, you are a much stronger person than I.

Dan Deacon
Carpark Records

BARR – SUMMARY (5RC)

read review at MUSIC TOWERS