Showing posts with label pop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pop. Show all posts

17.12.06

Cover me. I'm going in...#7

(Saint Etienne live in 1993, by dexter_mixwith)

I could also put this post in a Charity Shoppin' style deal: Hampstead's Oxfam yielded up a goodly number of bargains yesterday. But I'll concentrate on the CD purchase which interested me most (because although Blur's Great Escape and the Commitments soundtrack are lovely and nostalgic, they're not much new to me), Saint Etienne's Too Young To Die, a singles collection collating 1990-1995 in the world of Stanley, Wiggs et al.

My first dalliance with Saint Etienne came around Christmas 1995 when I got the Hits 96 cassette compilation. You know the sort, a knock-off Now variation, it had (if I remember correctly) a fairly wide variety on it, from Robson & Jerome to Oasis to Cher to a comedy version of the Blind Date theme tune. It had one indie-ish side out of four, and that included He's On The Phone. This summed up Saint Etienne's pop-perfect bedsit tales, the indie-dance stylings combining with sumptuous female vocals leading me to more appreciate the next thing I heard by the band. This was Only Love Can Break Your Heart, just recently revealed to me to be a cover of After The Goldrush-era Neil Young. I stand ashamed. This, this was pop perfection, even more so than He's On The Phone and it slid in so nicely amongst the electro-lite stylings of Happy Mondays and New Order on The Greatest Album In The World... Ever, for the unfamiliar an interminable series of indie compilations.

Listening to the Young original now is strange, as I'm so used to the Moira Lambert-led cover, with its dreamy, hazy feel and sooo 1991 beats. The cover takes up Young's plaintive piano piece and adds a euphoric beauty, those vocals just kind of tucked in at the back. It's the sound of my adolescence, once again, which makes it all the more odd to me that I never pursued it any further. But, no time like the present. Only Love Can Break Your Heart, in all its dreamy prettiness, is track one on the singles comp.

The Music
Neil Young - Only Love Can Break Your Heart
Saint Etienne - Only Love Can Break Your Heart

Which brings me to track two, which took me by surprise. The Wratten/Hiscock credit didn't register. But of course, it's the Field Mice's classic in electro-pop format, and very lovely it is too. Saint Etienne is pop in the same wasy as, say, Cinerama was pop: knowing but loving, well-constructed in the pop vein but not intended to aim for the lowest common denominator that today's charts aim at. If you're not massively familiar with the original, the chorus will take you by surprise. But love it and cherish it, the song in all its forms, for its a beautiful. I post the music with a dedication to Colin, wherever he might be.

The Music
Field Mice - Let's Kiss & Make Up
Saint Etienne - Kiss & Make Up

The 'fo
Artist: Saint Etienne
Website: saintetienne.com
Recommended: Smash The System: Singles 1990-99
Label: Heavenly
Buy: Amazon
More: Hype Machine; elbo.ws
If you like this you might like: Dubstar - The Best Of
Tags: ; ; ; ;

12.12.06

Top Whatevers

Sorry about the couple of days delay: Christmas-related busying I suppose. Anyway, review of the year is to make up for it with a bunch of stuff you don't care about, rambling on for far too long. Enjoy!

Song Of The Year


(photo be joshc)
If I was going to pick a song that I've discovered this year as the soundtrack to my life, then it would certainly be Clue To Kalo's As Tommy Fixes Fights. But my life is nothing without arbitrary rules, and technically that song was released last year. So the award for 2006 goes to one of the more disappointing bands of the year, Band Of Horses. Most peoples' first encounter with BOH was via their single The Funeral, a frankly astonishingly great song, incendiary in the heights it soars to - Ben Bridwell's voice flies high over a dynamic backdrop that threatened to breathe new life into the somewhat lacklustre American indie-rock output of the year. But aside from The Funeral, Band Of Horses only scraped along for the rest of their releases, their patchy and occasionally annoying debut (Everything All The Time) exemplifying this, a particularly sad case in point.
In general chaps, must try harder, must write more songs that are as good as The Funeral.

The Music
Band Of Horses - The Funeral (mp3)
Band Of Horses - The Funeral (video)

The 'fo
Band Of Horses/buy

Guilty Pleasure Of The Year

(photo by rustovision)
I hadn't had a guilty pleasure all year, really, hence the hanging onto the last vestiges of the Natasha Bedingfield bandwagon, the shame only really starting to tell towards the end of this year. Apparently there's a yet younger Bedingfield in the pipeline, something to look forward to. Anyway, NB's place has been taken by the almost terrifyingly mental Amy Winehouse, a local girl (you can kind of tell, if you know Southgate - Amy looks very Southgate, maybe with all the characteristics exaggerated to charicature), with her - admittedly not as guilty as Natasha - song, Rehab.
All ba-woop horns and big band chorus, this is singalong, it's funky and it's great, and it'll get so firmly ensconced into your head that an army of claw hammers won't be able to prise it out from there.

The Music
Amy Winehouse - Rehab

The 'fo
Amy Winehouse/buy

Live Show Of The Year

(photo by distantbombs)
Every inch of my body is telling me to put Mogwai in this award, for their ICA residency in January. And they were mindblowing, incredibly loud and opening up all sorts of experiences I didn't know existed. Certainly the support for this show (Gruff Rhys) was better than that of the show I've actually picked (which was Bat For Lashes), but still... The winner is Low. I love Low almost as much as Mogwai, but I think the gig just pipped it. For fantastic as the 'gwai were, Low's extra special show at Koko playing back the whole of what is a contender for my favourite album of all time (Things We Lost In The Fire) held me awestruck. At the time I think I wrote that Low were one of the few bands that allowed their music the space so few bands dare to produce, and their show only amplified this feeling. I could stand and watch Alan Sparhawk wait and wait to play a chord for ages and ages, and it would always, always be exactly perfect, exactly on the button. The harmonies, oh, the rapturous harmonies, the songs, the playing. Yes, I have no qualms picking Low.

The Music
Low - (That's How You Sing) Amazing Grace

The 'fo
Low/buy

Label Of The Year

(photo by japanese_forms)
There's but one record company that's been at the top of my list this year, only one contender. Last year it would've been Leaf with their volley of big hitters, but this year no label has consistently impressed me so much as the revitalised 4AD. From celebrating their 25 th anniversary last year, they've gone on to have one of their strongest years in an age, releasing several big, big albums, and signing a slew of great acts that manage to fit in with the label ethic and style while retaining their own originality. They've got a good 2007 coming, with Kristin hersh pencilled in early on, but for 2006 how about some of the following:
TV On The Radio - having settled into the label for their first album, TVOTR's follow-up was one of the records of the year, a devastating and fascinating rock album.
M Ward - another contender for record of the year, Matt Ward's warm rock'n'roll acousticana impressed me much.
Beirut - beloved by blogs in general rather than by me, but at least an album of poise and individuality.
Add to that Scott Walker's dense The Drift, and great releases by Cocteau Twins, Johann Johannssen and Mountain Goats, that's a fancy roster right there.

The Music
TV On The Radio - Wolf Like Me (video)
M Ward - Chinese Translation (video)
Beirut - Postcards From Italy (mp3)

The 'fo
TV On The Radio/buy/M Ward/buy/Beirut/buy

Prospect Of The Year

(photo by l fletcher)
You know what I'm going to say, it's undoubtedly Kristin Hersh. Kristin's solo albums are invariably amazing, whether they're the incredibly sparse, almost bleak, snow-capped feel of The Grotto, or whether they're the fuller, luxurious arrangements of Sunny Border Blue. The woman is a genius, and not only that but hellbent on giving away as much of her music as she can for free, as evidenced by 50 Foot Wave's method of distribution. Learn How To Sing Like A Star is bound to be just ace, and may the first lady of heart-on-sleeve alt.rock ever reign supreme.

The Music
Kristin Hersh - Snake Oil
The 'fo
Kristin Hersh/buy

Artist Of The Year

(photo by Toni Blay)
Despite being pipped at the post for best live show, Mogwai still manage to capture the glory with best artist, simply because they are one of the best bands in the world. It sounds so passé to describe Mogwai as noise terrorists these days - that era was c.1997, with Young Team just out and audiences' ears being shredded by the likes of Like Herod and Tracy. But 2006 was the year when Mogwai set out to recapture The Rock from the dreamy, ethereal (if still excessively wonderful) stylings of Happy Songs For Happy People. Mr Beast was the Ronseal of Mogwai albums, it was exactly that: a hurtling, raging monster of a record with some of Mogwai's biggest riffs ever, and the occasional heart-stoppingly huge drumbeat. All that being said, Mr Beast sees the band distilling its expertise into some of their more accessible numbers - Friend Of The Night, Acid Food, Auto-Rock...
But then, of course, Mogwai released two records this year - taking a look a little down the line at the monstrous rock of Mr Beast, Stuart Braithwaite et al took the band's more eery, atmospheric side and made a soundtrack to the artisan film about the inimitable Zinedine Zidane. So whichever Mogwai you prefer you've been satisfied this year, whether it was kicking the year off with that ICA residency, or releasing a contender for best album of the year in January, or fostering their football side with a pet project commission. Good job dudes.

The Music
Mogwai - Glasgow Mega-Snake

The 'fo
Mogwai/buy

Albums Of The Year

This is it, the big rundown. If you've waded through the rest of it to reach this bloggers' staple, then thanks, and hope you enjoy the music.


10. Amy Millan - Honey From The Tombs

Loads of new music came to my ears this year, and I hadn't been familiar with Stars, or Amy Millan or any of the Arts & Crafts stable until this year. To be brutally honest, I'm still not, but this is an album worthy of inclusion on a top ten anyway, and I don't think I've seen it anywhere else yet. Honey From The Tombs is an album positively dripping with Millan's warm, sensuous yet comforting voice, the same one that made Stars so inviting. The songs are pretty much pop.alt.country in basis, but with a few more uptempo numbers, taking a similar sort of approach to the two as M Ward has this year. Not all of the songs are as memorable as Skinny Boy or Losin' You, but they are all a pleasant enough listen and really lower you into a calmed-down mode, so for that one can be ever thankful.

Amy Millan - Skinny Boy
Amy Millan/MySpace/buy

9. Arab Strap - Ten Years Of Tears



I kind of surprise myself with this inclusion, but the fact of the matter is that Arab Strap had more of an impact on my life this year than the vast majority of other bands and musicians that I heard. I discovered (sadly belatedly) that Arab Strap have a knack for creating music that's emotionally resonant but not sappy, heartbreaking but certainly not emo, indie but by no means stagnant. From the classic The First Big Weekend to the x-rated folk of Packs Of Three to the thrashy punk stomp of Islands, this breaks my rule of not including compilations because it's so lovingly compiled - it's not just hits (what hits?) but it's demos, alternate takes, songs that mean something to the band. Interesting things. It's a great document, and a great listen in itself quite aside from anything associative.

Arab Strap - Preface: Set The Scene
Arab Strap/buy

8. Casiotone For The Painfully Alone - Etiquette

One of the few albums from the earlier part of the year that has retained my attention, Owen Ashworth's one-man-band (minus drum on back and cymbals between knees) has got sophisticated. The days of extremely minimalist Casio-tickling have been replaced by bigger arrangements, and bigger songs to warrant them. That's not to say anything on this album has had the MTV treatment, it doesn't sound like Queen just yet, but these are songs which are crying out for a wider audience. Which is ironic given the extreme introspection and self-loathing going on throughout. Etiquette would certainly make any random emo kid's dreams come true, but would also introduce them to a world of quality and class that Panic At The Disco will never be able to give them. Plus, y'know, CFTPA has one extra word so he's obviously better.

Casiotone For The Painfully Alone - I Love Creedence
Casiotone For The Painfully Alone/buy

7. Daedelus - Denies The Day's Demise

Another one I ummed and aahed about, because this was a very late addition to the year's best. But I think it certainly warrants its place here - in a year where I spent a disproportionate amount of time listening to electronica, this was the pick. Herbert, Adem, Triosk, these were all excellent albums but they didn't grab me so immediately, nor move me in the same as Alfred Weisberg-Roberts' did. There was a real warmth about this record when I first listened, whether it's from the banks of synths on Like Clockwork Springs or the oboe on Viva Vida (a track which, on first listening, grabbed me gently by the throat and refused to let go), and if you add to that sultry samba beats and the odd blast of glitch-hop, this is a great record.

Daedelus - Samba Legrand
Daedelus/buy

6. Camera Obscura - Let's Get Out Of This Country

Camera Obscura were introduced, in a haze of blog buzz, as a band that sounded like Belle & Sebastian. As a new found devotee of those most literate of Scots indie-poppers, I thought great, and found another bunch of literate Scots indie-poppers, this time with the pretty, affecting, female vocals at the front. So yes, Camera Obscura don't really win any prizes for groundbreaking originality, but when you kick off an album with a heartbreaking ode to Lloyd Cole that's a serious contender for song of the year, who really cares? Lloyd, I'm Ready To Be Heartbroken is sad but sweet and gorgeous, and so is the majority of the rest of the album. In a year spent trying to be avant garde, this album feels like a step back for me, but really, what does that matter? Music's in the heart, not the head.

Camera Obscura - I Need All The Friends I Can Get
Camera Obscura/buy

5. Steve Adey - All Things Real

Out of the blue is how I'd describe this. I get so so many random, mostly awful, acts trying it on in MySpace World, that it really took me by surprise when I heard Adey's rich baritone fully nailing the beautiful Find The Way for the first time when Grand Harmonium Records sought me out. Mr Adey is a very talented man indeed and has created an album of warm, beautiful songsmithery to go with his wonderful voice. Great combination, great result.

Steve Adey - Tonight
Steve Adey/buy

4. Mogwai - Mr Beast

It's the top four that has been set almost as soon as I heard the records, but it's also given me a lot of trouble. Mogwai are, by default, the best band in the world (see above) and since Alan McGee's outburst that Mr Beast would be the best thing since Loveless, I was expecting monster things from Mr Beast. And in some ways, I got that. In some ways. Because where Mr Beast worked (Glasgow Mega-Snake, We're No Horses, Auto-Rock) it was beyond incredible, but there just wasn't the usual connection. Sure, there was plenty of Rock, and this is a good thing, but it didn't at the heartstrings as well like it's predecessor. I think maybe if Mogwai had combined elements of this record, the huge riffs, the unbelievable volume, with the tact, restraint and explorations of this year's other release, the Zidane soundtrack, then they would have had a hit on their hands. As it is, Mogwai are still top four material despite this not being their strongest record, which says a lot about them - although I'd love to put them top, I just wouldn't be being honest to myself, so. Number four.

Mogwai - I Chose Horses
Mogwai/buy

3. TV On The Radio - Return To Cookie Mountain



A record that keeps on getting better with every listen is an album that's worth listening to. And when you listen to Return To Cookie Mountain, you'll start to appreciate the delicacy and intricacies within such a complex, yet feral-sounding album. The band manage to fill every space with a rushing noise that's not really there, and for all the joy minimalism gives, this is extremely exciting. Live, the band are a sexy beast, and on record, they're no less so. Highlights like Province, Wolf Like Me and I Was A Lover sound like nothing that was released this, or any other year. A one off band.

TV On The Radio - I Was A Lover
TV On The Radio/buy

2. M Ward - Post-War

Our number two record is the most old-fashionedy on the list. Post-War revels in it's retrospectivity (a new word?), bringing to mind massive radios, big radio microphones, band's playing all at once to record, for a change, good ol' fashioned rock'n'roll. When Matt rocks it up, the sound is a joyous boogie, a record chockful of singalongs and 5th-6th chord progressions. But it's not just that, it's more diverse, with songs like Chinese Translation playing foil to Magic Trick's life-affirming groove. Maybe life-affirming would sum up the whole album pretty well actually - you certainly end up in a better mood at the end of it, having had great fun along the way. I don't suppose you can ask for much more out of an album than this.

M Ward - Magic Trick
M Ward/buy

1. Belle & Sebastian - The Life Pursuit

I've since come to realise that I did know one Belle & Sebastian track before I heard The Blues Are Still Blue on the radio, maybe even at the end of last year. The Boy With The Arab Strap is actually that nagging, familiar melody that's been at the back of my mind all year. But anyway, I was under the impression for the most part that despite B&S having been within my wider conciousness for maybe ten years, I didn't really know their material. In fact, I dismissed them as fey, twee, any weak adjective you care to mention.
But in the rare event of a single that makes you go and buy an album, The Blues Are Still Blue got stuck in my head. Then after that, Jeff goes and picks Sukie In The Graveyard as his perfect three-minute pop song on the Contrast Podcast and the wheels are set in motion. The album is purchased and the songs are absorbed, and blow me if I didn't know right then that it would have to take something incredibly special to knock this off it's best-of-the-year podium. And nothing was that special. I don't think 2006 was the greatest year for new music, to be honest, and although there was some good bands around there wasn't anything that came out of nowhere and rocked everybody's socks. So this little Scottish band, eleven years after their debut, and perceived to have their best days behind, proceed to put out an album that's potentially the best of their career. To me, it's more focused than If You're Feeling Sinister, less patchy than Tigermilk (obviously, I've gone on to explore the catalogue) - it's simply one of the best pop albums to have been released in a good few years. Nearly perfect in every way, it's witty, classy, extremely tight and immensely good fun. It's heart and head music, which ticks all my boxes.

Belle & Sebastian - Sukie In The Graveyard
Belle & Sebastian/buy

23.11.06

Remix Me. I'm Going In...#4: Beth Orton

( Photo by Neil Wykes)

A while ago I was given a duplicate Beth Orton album when my sister got married. I've listened to it once. In the background. At work, where blandness is appreciated. You see, Beth Orton kind of gives the impression that she's going to be as bland as, say, Dido, and while this may or may not be justified, I just don't see it's worth the effort.

It wasn't always like this, you know. In 1997, Trailer Park was a Mercury-nominated debut with big prospects. Being the Mercury Prize, Roni Size's fairly-decent drum'n'bass beat off competition from The Prodigy, the Spice Girls... oh yes, and a best-album-of-all-time contender in OK Computer. Anyway, also up there was Beth Orton's debut-proper, Trailer Park, an album of stark, country-tinged simplicity, vastly toning down the electronic leanings of her early work.

I was perhaps a bit hard on Dido earlier. Dido's first album is not that bad, and contains some of the electronica/pop crossover style that Orton does a bit better. Orton managed to retain her credibility a bit though, and although her latest stuff isn't really to my taste, it doesn't completely suck.

I've been babbling. What I wanted to talk about was She Cries Your Name. This was the song on the 1997 Mercury CD sampler, which has been hanging around my bedroom for, well, about 9 years. It's a cracker: a real twangy, slidey, atmospheric number with Orton's heartbreaking vocals. That's what makes this track: the way her voice cracks and swells with the song. It's resonant and beautiful; not cheery at all, but it suits the lyrics perfectly. Although it's really not what I usually listen to at all, this comes highly recommended.

Beth Orton's Carmella is remixed by Four Tet.

PS - check out some of my newer reviews, including:
Arab Strap - Ten Years Of Tears (9/10)
Band Of Horses - Everything All The Time (6/10)
Steve Adey - All Things Real (8/10)
and Four Tet live in this month's Record Collector.

The Music
Beth Orton - She Cries Your Name

The 'fo
Artist: Beth Orton
Website:
bethorton.mu
Recommended:
Trailer Park
Label:
Heavenly
Buy:
Amazon
More:
Hype Machine; elbo.ws
If you like this you might like:
Tanya Donnelly - Whiskey Tango Ghost
Tags:
; ; ; ; ;

22.9.06

Are You Having A Laugh?


I must be doing something right: today I was asked to take my music off the office stereo not once, but twice. But two more different problem tracks you could not ask for. First on was Cat Stevens, out of respect to the closing track from Extras. Extras is not good. This is a problem, because you watch it hoping, almost expecting that it will be, but it's not good. There's almost an element of hoping that it's intentional, that it's supposed to refer to the sub-standard sitcom that Ricky Gervais finds himself in. But no, it's just not very good.
However, redeeming features come in many flavours, not the least of which is Tea For The Tillerman, the title track from Stevens' 1970 album of the same name. The track is always played over the credits a little bit louder than you expect, like the producers are giving due prominence to a great, classically-formed song. Which it is, like most of Stevens' output at the time - it's on the same album as Wild World and Father & Son, for a start.

So Cat went on the office stereo, and apparently not a popular choice, was replaced by Autechre.
The Music
Cat Stevens - Tea For The Tillerman

The other offender was altogether more expected. In fact, Psychocandy was put on in the almost-certain knowledge that someone would ask for it to be taken off at some point. In the event, they did admirably, and I think it was Some Candy Talking, which is track 8, that was the straw that broke the camel's back. This album has taken a long time even to get to a listenable stage for me, so I can appreciate others' anxiety at the barrage of trebly, scraping distortion that passes for a Jesus & Mary Chain song. It's not easy going. I was going to pull the "it was the closing track on Lost In Translation" trick, but stopped myself when I remembered just how often I've had to use the Pixies' Fight Club credits soundtrack for the same thing. I don't want to go down that route again.

The Music
Jesus & Mary Chain - Some Candy Talking

The 'fo
Artist: Cat Stevens/Jesus & Mary Chain
Websites: yusufislam.org.uk/subpop.com
Recommended: Tea For The Tillerman/Psychocandy
Label: Polygram/Subpop
Buy: Amazon CS/JAMC
More: Hype Machine CS/JAMC; elbo.ws CS/JAMC
Tags: ; ; ; ; ;

20.9.06

I don't know if you're loving somebody, I only know...



Elvis Costello's My Aim Is True is maybe the best album I have in my vinyl collection. This is some claim, as I have some seriously great records in there, but this is true gold. I was inspired to dig it out again after watching (via Everybody Cares, Everybody Understands) Elvis' first TV appearance, and it reminded me just how stunning a track Alison is, and therefore this post is dedicated to the album, and more specifically the song.

Welcome To The Working Week almost falls over itself in it's rush sometimes but behind the bluster is a sentiment more accurate - and as it's EC, more personal to every listener - than could be imagined in such a short track. It's just the beginning, because the album is full of them - every track a winner, a searing insight into your actual life without a hint of the emotionally overwraught, or whining or crying. The punk-pop backing is in reality small-town soul, a sound born not so much at frustration at what one doesn't have (like Elvis' peers) but a solid resolution to do what you can with what you have.

In the case of My Aim Is True, what you have is absolutely traditionally constructed and performed songs. But the main difference between this and a million others is that each simple song is eternally pertinent and always hits the spot. Whether it's the sound of the record, a throwback to the days when pop was pop and could be about this sort of thing without needing to sound arch; whether it's the we've all been there of "Oh, I said "I'm so happy, I could die."She said "Drop dead," then left with another guy." ((The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes); maybe it's the exasperated Miracle Man.



Maybe it's the way everything stops on the word Stop, in Alison. Maybe it's in the subtle, but quite beautiful electric guitar solos in the same song (seen to heartstopping effect in the video, the solo electric putting even Billy Bragg in his place). Maybe it's the wistful, bittersweet, disappointed lyrics. Maybe it's the fact that despite being almost thirty years old, this song retains every bit as much importance and relevance to any listener, to anyone who's been in love, to anyone that doesn't have a cold, hard stone for their heart. Maybe it's the fact that in this intimate demolition of long-held feelings, Costello poured out more indignation, more grief, more beauty and more spite than any of his punk peers could muster, and marshalled it not to an inept four to the floor, but to a balladic soul piece that Stax would have killed for. Maybe his aim really was true.

The Music
Elvis Costello - Alison
Elvis Costello - Mystery Dance (live at the El Mocambo, 3/6/1978)
Elvis Costello - Blame It On Cain (acoustic "honky tonk" version)

The 'fo
Artist: Elvis Costello
Websites: elviscostello.com
Recommended: My Aim Is True
Label: Stiff Records
Buy: Amazon
More: Hype Machine; elbo.ws
Tags: ; ; ; ;

20.4.06

Head out on the iWay

As I drove, windswept and buffeted by slipstreams, back to the Smoke accompanied by my trusty steed (a slightly worn looking 16 year old Polo), Percy Sledge and a packet of Fruit Pastilles, I pondered the theme of driving songs that literally none of you have helped with. So screw you, I'm going to put tracks that I have in my car.

In my opinion, the perfect album (as related to the perfect pop song) is 45 minutes in length - exactly the right time to fit on one side of a 90 minute cassette tape. In my journeyings, last time (given the favourable traffic conditions of Easter Sunday evening), my trip lasted exactly 1 Funeral, one Show Your Bones and an extra Maps. This time, stuck in the traffic on the M25 it took a good one and a third 90 minute Sledge compos. I measure driving time not in miles, nor in hours, but in albums. It seems to make perfect sense to me.

It also got me thinking - why has no-one yet applied the twentyfirst century's most ubiquitous prefix to this monolithic civil engineering feat? Given it's proximity and relevance to London, famous for it's 'cockneys' (say it out loud), and it's fancy, smooth good looks, it's a wonder that we haven't been introduced to the new, improved, 12-lane iWay. It seems so right as to be awesome. It doesn't make the surroundings look any less exciting - come friendly bombs, fall on Slough as a wise man once said - but it is nice and smooth and the trusty steed appreciates this. The trusty steed is old, and whilst assuredly trusty, is most definitely showing her age. This is demonstrated by the duct tape holding the sunroof on coming unstuck as one enters the A40, creating a fearful rasping noise. It's shown by the fact that if the wind is whistling through my window, I have to risk pushing it up at 80 miles an hour with my hands, as the handle doesn't fit on anymore. It's shown by the fact that my luggage is in the back seat because the boot doesn't open.

It's quirky and I love it to bits, but if anyone wants to donate a nice new car, I wouldn't say no to retiring this one.

Arcade Fire - Neighbourhood #1 (Tunnels)
Funeral backs the Yeah Yeah Yeah's new one on a tape in the car
buy

Percy Sledge - Try A Little Tenderness
Full-on classic time
buy it (again if neccessary)

Four Tet - She Moves She
Just because it's great for cruising round the hood and all, without the need for hip hop suspension on the car
buy

14.4.06

From the moment I was born, I was ordered to listen

Take your time, think a lot; why, think of everything you’ve got for you will be still be here tomorrow, but your dreams may not.

Of all the stage names you could pick for yourself, Cat has to be the most stupid. I mean really. Dogs are much cooler than cats for a start, but you wouldn’t call yourself Dog Stevens would you? (I hope.)
There’s no accounting for taste though, we’re told, and in the end it doesn’t really matter in the slightest. Call him what you like, Stephen Dimitriou, Cat Stevens or Yusuf Islam, is some sort of a genius. He’s one of those songwriters that often gets overlooked in favour of more apparently cerebral artists, yet he can sing far better than Bob Dylan, he can construct a pop song every bit as well as Paul Simon (and that’s saying something), he can incorporate English folk and madrigals into actual songs that have something to say. More than anything though, he sings with guts, with feeling.

It must be really hideous to create a work of art like ‘The First Cut Is The Deepest’ then hear all vestiges of emotion stripped from it by Rod Stewart and Sheryl Crow in turn. I have to confess to not being aware that the song was a Stevens original until investigating further – it’s one of those songs that you really, really hope had no creative contribution from Rod Stewart at all (like ‘Handbags and Gladrags’). The man’s a national disgrace.

But anyway. My real purpose in posting was to pay tribute to one song in particular. Given the day off work, very kindly, something prompted me to go and find the guitar chords for ‘Father And Son’ – the internet is the fat man’s best friend, after all, and I wouldn’t want to actually put any effort into working it out. Considering the song though, I discovered that it’s a wonderful thing indeed: so unassuming, and another one to have had the life drained from it by that well-known covers band, Boyzone, yet an understated work of art, so delicate, so poignant and touching, so perfectly crafted.

It has a great guitar part – it can be played simply enough, but add in the subtleties and it lifts it inordinately. But more than that: slap me dead with a soft fish but it has some actual meaning behind it. Call me stupid (you’d probably be justified), but I’d never noticed the story going on behind the song; I can listen to it and adjudge it great based on the depth of emotion in the voice and the wonderful melody, which is impressive in itself. But dissect it and you discover the conversation between father and son (I really should’ve guessed…) and now every time I listen to it I pay more and more attention and try to work out just how deep it goes – is the father being fatherly and wise? Patronising and inconsiderate? Cautioning and wistful? Is the son being adolescent and insensitive, or is he genuinely frustrated and crying out for sorely-craved affection? It’s a really passionate piece, yet I’ve no idea how autobiographical it is – surely much of it rings true for every teenager and every father.

All the times that I’ve cried, keeping all the things I knew inside, it’s hard – but it’s harder to ignore it.

Cat Stevens - Father And Son
artist/buy/buy

7.4.06

It Tears Me Up

There is a pompadour that towers over all the other pompadours in the rock and pop section. Percy Sledge had the looks, the moves, the voice, everything. Occasionally I'll break out some Percy, or put it on in the car, and I never fail to come away loving it a bit more.

There's often an Atlantic/Stax vs. Motown debate, but it's kind of pointless. They're different sounds. Percy Sledge has, for me at least, become some sort of archetype of the Memphis sound and if you only know him from 'When A Man Loves A Woman' then you're missing out. It's a great song obviously, but has become slightly tainted from rom-com ubiquity to truly hold a place in my heart. If this is the extent of your Sledge, then you should look further afield.



Percy Sledge - The Dark End Of The Street
James Carr - The Dark End Of The Street
Gram Parsons - The Dark End Of The Street
Frank Black - The Dark End Of The Street
Aretha Franklin - The Dark End Of The Street
Ryan Adams & Courtney Love - The Dark End Of The Street
Eels - The Dark End Of The Street (live)
To these ears, Sledge's version of the Moman/Penn staple is easily on a par with what's generally recognised to the be the 'definitive' version, James Carr's. Frank Black's version features a number of the same musicians: Spooner Oldham and David Hood were on both his and Sledge's, I think, and the newer song also has Steve Cropper and Reggie Young, so no mean line-up. And while it's a decent attempt, there's just something lacking: whether it's Jon Tiven's fairly flat production, or Black's falsetto almost, but not quite, hitting the spot, I don't know. It takes some serious vocal talent to pull off such a deep and emotional song, and I don't think either Gram or Frank have this. Frank Black especially is just recently attempting to come to grips with a new, more emotive singing style, and it seems he overshot himself a little at this go.
Aretha's is a little too heavy soul for my taste, and the Eels' is as you would expect. Courtney Love can just give up now, please.

Percy Sledge - Out Of Left Field
This is one of number of Penn and Oldham compositions that Percy Sledge made his own. Obviously, as in-house songwriters at Atlantic, that isn't really surprising. It has the quintessentially Southern gospel overtones, the romance, the elegiac organ, everything. It's what you would really call soul to it's very core, it's heart-rending and you can identify with it, like all the best songs, and the sound, the sound is just as classic as it gets.

Percy Sledge - Rainbow Road
Rainbow Road is one of those cautionary murder ballads that are so common in music of this era. It's got those gospel-y backing vocals, the biting country guitar and the horns don't fanfare, they burn. the trumpet even turns a bit mariachi at one stage, which is strangely fitting for the deep south prison setting.

Percy Sledge - Stop The World Tonight
There are so many songs I could post: I was going to put True Love Travels On A Gravel Road, then I thought I'd put his Try A Little Tenderness, or maybe Sudden Stop. But I've plumped for this slow, electric piano-led number with the same accusing horn section and reverby acoustic guitar. It gets me everytime, or as your boy Caulfield would say, it kills me. It really does.

Buy some Sledge, sucka/I recommend this/Atlantic/Rhino

Buy: James Carr/Gram Parsons/Frank Black/Aretha/Eels/Ryan Adams/Hole (if you must)

27.2.06

Must We Throw This Filth At Our Pop Kids?



The Internet is full of Wonderful Things, not least two girly pop groups on the same day here on a fairly indie/difficult music blog. On the same day as the beautiful yet strangely defiling Mr T rap was unearthed, the world wide interpipe threw up what can only be described as the sequel to the Arctic Monkeys/Girls Aloud moment. Yes, it's Sugababes covering I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, available from Binky The Doormat. It actually seems a fairly logical next step: the track sounds not so disimilar to the original, giving the lie to the Northerners' faux-cheeky comedy-pub-rock's origins, i.e. that however groundbreaking or groovy they think they might be, it's all been done before. They're basically a cross between the Faces and the Libertines anyway, promoted with the same savvy/cynical nous employed by Malcolm Maclaren (you know what, my mind has gone blank - I mean the plainly bonkers svengali of the Pistols, New York Dolls and, um, Bow Wow Wow, as opposed to the one in Clockwork Orange and latterly Gangster No.1 (in which, incidentally, he looks slightly like he might be bursting out of his own face. But I digress)).

Sugababes have a tendency to put together a half-decent pop song. I imply they do, I'm actually sure they don't, but at least somebody behind them does, and it livens life up when you have the likes of Richard X's 'Freak Like Me' in your catalogue. Anyway, I believe they did Last Year's Most Talked About song at everybody's favourite hair product showcase, and I prefer it to the original. It makes more sense, because it's blatantly a pop song under all the bluster, so it's nice to have it done by a pop band, especially one with a bit of something about them. Makes more sense than this anyway.

I often find myself in a quandary. I think, maybe it's OK to like a bit of pop music, provided it's done well (which is yet to explain my enduring fascination with Natasha Bedingfield); think, Girls Aloud, Sugababes etc. I have my standards, and for pop music to gain my appreciation doesn't mean a lapse in my impeccable tastes, it means its good pop music. But then I think, for all that, would I go and buy the album? Not even the slightest chance, so why waste my time listening to it? Which is an equally valid point. But then I think, well all the greats were pop music in their time, Pink Floyd, Led Zep, Beatles, massively popular. But then I think, well yes they were, but they weren't the most mainstream thing around at the time.

Around about that time I get bored with arguing with myself, and make a cup of tea.

But you see my quandary? Populist or elitist? 'Tis a tough call. I like to think there are those which straddle the line well, but most that try cry out for derision. It's my opinion that the aforementioned Sex Pistols are the world's most manufactured band ever, and where are they now, hmm? Dead or a joke. Sigh. One cannot but hold out hope that there will be those to come that combine wonderful, uncompromising music with a populist edge, without becoming fools in the process.

25.2.06

Some Sort Of Delicious Biscuit


I love Dylan Moran. As far as comedically-inebriated Irish drunks go, he's up there with Shane MacGowan and Terry Wogan, but less musically talented than either. Still - to steal a whole show from under the nose of Bill Bailey is some feat, as Moran did in Black Books as Bernard, the comedically-inebriated Irish drunk. So, I guess not much of a stretch of the imagination, but he does it so nicely. Interesting Fact #1: In America, they emphasise the first part of his surname rather than the latter. We may never know why.

The heyday of the British sitcom is probably not, as most would have it, past: as it was put recently, nobody was actually falling over laughing in the street at the wonder of this golden era of comedy, the days of, um, Are You Being Served, and the like. No, even recently we've had The Office, we've got In The Thick Of It with the wonderful Chris Langham (cf. Help), and we had Black Books not so long ago. Even the finest of them all, Spaced, was not too long ago.

But! This week I found myself curiously drawn to Google image search for a real classic of my youth. Desmonds was just ace, wasn't it? Some phrases to stir the mind:

"There is an oooold African saying..."
"Matchoo!"
"Gloooria!"
"Shiiiirley!"

And the like. I loved it. It was in Peckham at the same time Only Fools And Horses was, but in so many ways more palatable. I love all things Jamaican (a feeling propogated originally in my palate and stomach), and this was probably my introduction to the culture: a safe, friendly version maybe, and lacking the various violences and robberies of Jamaica itself, but an inviting, tantalising thing all the same. Living in North London, I can indulge myself in all the rice and peas that I like, and make no mistake, I do.

In something of a streamofconsciousness fashion, I make my way to the point I originally intended to write about: comedy. Specifically the NME awards. After the bar-raising All-Time Greats list of recent weeks, you expected the ridiculous and got the mundane. This is at least my third post about the NME, and I think I should make it the last, as each time I say that it has exhausted it's relevance. Ah me.

Highlight: Harry Potter for best film, says alot about the punters that read the rag. Also, Interesting Fact #2: Wella employ a publicist specifically to make sure people refer to the things as the Shockwaves NME Awards. Emphasis on the hair product. I chuckled at the advert on TV recently: Shockwaves - don't let the hair get in the way of the music. Sweet irony.

I conclude. A band can be forgiven much for covering Girls Aloud, as they do here: Love Machine is still better when performed by the talent-show skanks (we love them for it), but it can't hurt to try your cheek Northern chappy hand at it right? T'Arctic Monkeys still suck, but a little less.