Contributions to rockfeedback.com Top 100 Records of 2007

2007 has been a mixed year for records, with a couple of let downs (ahem Bloc Party) and a general lack of excitement in British music. There were, however, some exceptions, including LCD Soundsystem’s drooled-over ‘Sound Of Silver’, Jamie T’s debut, Editors dark second album and The Cribs Lee Ranaldo-featuring third. The other side of the Atlantic produced more works of substance with the likes of Battles, Liars, Animal Collective, Explosions In The Sky, Beirut and Deerhoof all earning high praise.

I managed to dash off a few words about some of my favourites below…

(59) Jamie T – Panic Pevention (Virgin)

Jamie Treays is a young middle-class Londoner who, like many of his peers, spent his teens drinking, taking recreational drugs, getting into fights and everything else typical of ‘naughties’ youth. How do we know? Because, unlike any of his peers, he articulated it perfectly in his inimitable urban poet style, delivered it backed by only an acoustic bass and finally put it to music that was as achingly modern as it was a display of musical kleptomania, borrowing from everything from to ska to drum’n’bass to punk.

23) Dinosaur Jr. – Beyond (Pias)

In an age when even the original line-up of the Beatles (with Stuart Sutcliffe on bass) are probably about to reform from beyond the grave, this was the most glorious of all 2007’s reunions. How did J, Lou and Murph do it? By recording a perfectly timeless Dinosaur Jr record. One of the few times you can honestly say it was just like they had never been away.

18) Panda Bear – Person Pitch (Paw Tracks)

If Brian Wilson had grown up in 80s Baltimore County and hung out with people with names like Avey Tare and Geologist instead of bloody surfing all the time, he probably would have made albums that sounded a bit like Person Pitch. Not content with contributing to Animal Collective’s delicious Strawberry Jam, Panda Bear outdid his band’s work with his third solo album. Managing to make surf pop sound experimental and lo-fi - Person Pitch is a joy from beginning to end. (Chris Helsen)

Honourable mentions also go to: The Strange Death Of Liberal England, Arctic Monkeys, The Tailors, Two Gallants, Kings Of Leon, Destroyer, Gravenhurst and more…

Above reviews first published on rockfeedback.com.

Video of the Month #2 The Go! Team - Doing It Right [dir Good Times]

Who really needs a summer when you've got a band like the Go! Team coming out with retro pop nuggets like 'Doing it Right'? The video, directed by the aptly named Good Times, merely enhances the joy of the record and broadens the grin on your face...

Gravenhurst - The Western Lands [Warp album]

As all us amateur cosmologists know, the Big Bang theory states that the universe originated from something somewhat smaller and has been expanding ever since. This same principle could apply just as well to Nick Talbot’s Gravenhurst. Having gone about things in a rather modest fashion in the early parts of a career that saw sparse folk records released on tiny indie label Silent Age (beginning with 2001’s debut ‘Internal Travels’), everything about Gravenhurst has grown outwards since – signing to Warp (the universe, too, becomes cooler as it expands), gaining more members and admirers, and intensifying the band’s sound considerably.

‘The Western Lands’ continues where 2005’s much-lauded ‘Fires In Distant Buildings’ left off, with broody, elongated ‘post-folk’ songs with more than a nod to shoegaze that somehow end up sounding like electronica without the electronics. The likes of ‘Trust’, ‘Hourglass’ and the closing ‘The Collector’ are perfect examples of this, while the gloriously epic instrumental title track leads the album into shimmering post-rock territory. The comparatively brief four minute ‘Hollow Men’ is probably the real highlight, though, with feedback and rocked out guitars providing a jagged contrast to Talbot’s trademark mournful voice and boasting a breakdown that sounds like ten jumbo jets taking off.

Talbot and Gravenhurst continue to make quite stunning records, utilising both song structure and instrumentation to achieve the ultimate atmospheric effect. Best listened to late at night while contemplating life by candlelight, ‘The Western Lands’ is a dark and intense record that at least matches its predecessor.


First published in Notion magazine.

The Fiery Furnaces - Widow City [Thrill Jockey album]

Possibly music’s most intriguing sibling collaboration, The Fiery Furnaces’ Matthew and Eleanor Friedberger continue their astonishing journey through the world of twisted pop with their sixth full-length release. The album’s opening opus ‘The Philadelphia Grand Jury’ acts like a mission statement, showcasing the fundamental elements of diversity and experimentation that have increasingly become the duo’s trademark. A carefully constructed mash-up, the song (and album) is a cut and paste musical collage with snippets of lyrics strewn over a variety of musical styles, from 70s pop to garage rock.

The expected is constantly twisted on ‘Widow City’ – when you think a song might be following a traditional structure, rhythm, melody even, either Matthew’s instrumentation or Eleanor’s intonation take it somewhere entirely different. This is more successful in some places than others, treading a fine line between the emotive and the unnecessary. Having succeeded with seven minutes of rhythmic variations on the first track, for example, a similar barrage on ‘Clear Signal From Cairo’ is just too much, and the whole album provides a lot to take. Once through the initial jolt of this constant assault, though, much of it is quite brilliant and staring you in the face are more catchy pop melodies than you might think.

If you like your ‘pop’ music challenging then ‘Widow City’ is definitely for you. The songs held within possess a great deal of depth, texture and interest. If, however, you prefer something a little more traditional and appreciate consistent song structure, you might want to give this one a miss.


First published in Notion magazine.

Simon Bookish - Trainwreck/Raincheck [Teeth Records album]

I can hardly ever remember my dreams. It’s kind of frustrating sometimes, but I’m resigned to the fact that that’s the way it’s meant to be, right? As a result of this, I am more than a little distrustful of Leo Chadburn and his alter ego Simon Bookish. For not only does he remember his dreams, but they also have a recurring motif (transport), and he remembers them so well that he has managed to re-create them in the form of ‘Trainwreck/Raincheck’, an album of avant-garde, mostly electronic, spoken word-littered soundscapes.

And when I say avant-garde, I mean avant-garde. I haven’t listened to such a dense and far-out album as this for a long time (not that I have really set out to). It is unsurprising that a classically trained composer, actor, performance artist, vocalist and remixer for hire and multi-instrumentalist, recently returned from touring with the National Theatre, who references Euripides and experimental French composer Erik Satie in his press release, has produced a challenging record, but any thoughts of a quirky Patrick Wolf-a-like are way off as far as ‘Trainwreck/Raincheck’ is concerned. It is, in fact, a barely quasi-pop experiment of startling content.

The artwork for the album, which sees Bookish dressed in futuristic pyjamas, high above a cartoon city dreaming of ships and aeroplanes is a successful depiction of how the album sounds, but is hugely more romantic than the clinical coldness of much of what is held inside. Beginning with future-experimental wobbly noises akin to the alarm system on the Starship Enterprise on ‘Theme (Mercator Projection)’ and moving swiftly into an electronic backing track that sounds like you have a crossed telephone line with a conversation between robot rats, it is an opinion polarizer from the outset. Many more will be put off the moment Bookish opens his mouth with the first stream-of-consciousness dream-tale of ‘Crab Lawn’. This sci-fi psycho-babble continues on the subsequent ‘Invasion’ and ‘Dwarf Documentary’ as his voice meanders through bizarre tales of the dreams he has had. It works adequately enough on the Philip K Dick-esque ‘Crab Lawn’, but the slightly fey, knowing tone of ‘Invasion’s “And so… It might have been Berlin I suppose” is rather off-putting.

The question with these spoken word compositions, is – eccentric experiment aside – whether the stories themselves are interesting, engaging or well written/delivered enough to make for appealing listening. The answer is probably a ‘no’. There are moments of wit, most notably when Bookish is explaining to Bush and Rumsfeld how ducks stand on one foot to avoid getting shit on both feet (‘A Deception (Municipal Mix)’) but rarely is there anything that begs for a repeat listen, a story to really enjoy. It is actually the ‘songs’ where Bookish moves away from the straightforward spoken word that are the most successful. The closing ‘Long Haul’ is sparse and calming, the drone-based ‘Arborescences’ is a triumph of bleakness (if something of an acquired taste…), while on ‘Interview’ he actually strings together something of a melody and his Bowie-esque intonations support what is closest to a traditional song structure. A record like this neither warrants nor benefits from comparisons, though. At a push you could see Bookish as a kind of future-Beefheart or a precocious English David Byrne, but these associations are as misleading as they are useful.

‘Trainwreck/Raincheck’ is a success in that as intended it sounds totally otherworldly and as close to the reality of dreams as one could get. Not in the usual way that fluffy, ethereal music is described as dreamlike, but instead in a coldly psychological portrayal of the confusion and stream-of-consciousness nonsense that dreams actually are. It is densely layered, unsettling and uncomfortable, occasionally warm and fuzzy, but always surprising and generally just plain strange. Like most dreams though, it is the negative moments that that stay in my head after the event – the deliberately read, forced monologues of ‘Invasion’ and ‘Dwarf Documentary’ in particular. As an avant-garde pop music experiment it’s intriguing and often brilliant, as a pleasurable listening experience, well… it isn’t really. Not for me anyway. I strongly recommend anyone remotely interested to give this record a listen and make up your own mind, though, because for as many that will undoubtedly hate it there will likely be the same number who think it’s a work of genius. The problem is, I have reached my final sentence and still have no idea how many stars it deserves. I shall sleep tonight dreaming of a fence to sit on…

***

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

Kate Nash - Made Of Bricks [Polydor album]

We all know Kate Nash, even those of us who would rather not. Myspace, Lilly Allen, the fact that the release of this, her debut album, was brought forward by two months due to popular demand and all the rest. And of course we all know ‘Foundations’: with its ubiquity, its repetitive melody and its whiny estuary accent it has been the love/hate song of the summer. For those that care, the worst fears for ‘Made Of Bricks’ will be that it is an album built entirely on the ‘Foundations’ of a single that makes pun-avoidance nigh on impossible.

The main surprise on ‘Made Of Bricks’ is the amount of classical piano-playing there is (something clearly present on ‘Foundations’ but that managed to pass at least me by un-noticed under that overpowering vocal melody), making Nash sound more like a mockney Regina Spektor or Dresden Dolls parody than a Lilly Allen wannabe (see in particular the bouncy melodrama of ‘Skeleton Song’). The songs are rooted in the same quotidian teenage language as Allen or Jamie T, though, with several following the same ‘girl-at-boy’ rant pattern as ‘Foundations’. While probably perfect material for teenage girls (at times you wonder how close she is to having her own kids TV show a la S Club), it quickly becomes tired for anyone else. This is largely because she doesn’t have the lyrical depth or trickery of a Jamie T, with songs like ‘We Get On’ reading like direct out-takes from a diary hidden under her bed as opposed to the cutting social commentary of much of ‘Panic Prevention’. Also, clearly swearing is an integral part of modern society, but the oft-used argument that it shows a lack of vocabulary or creativity is an undoubtedly valid one. What then, Ms Nash, are we to think when the third track of your album opens thus: “Why you being a dickhead for? Stop being a dickhead / Why you being a dickhead for? You’re just fucking up situations / Why you being a dickhead for? Stop being a dickhead / Why you being a dickhead for? You’re just fucking up situations”.

Perhaps she deserves the benefit of the doubt with this, for the following ‘Birds’ is a genuinely poignant chav-ballad that touchingly explores the difficulties of inarticulacy. Beautifully constructed and drenched in slide guitar it is a fine moment and there are others on what is in reality a far from offensive album. The ‘loved and lost’ lyrics of ‘Merry Happy’, for example, are excellent in places: “Sitting in restaurants, thought we were so grown up / But I know now that we were not the people that we turned out to be… Can’t take back these hours but I won’t regret / cos you can grow flowers from where dirt used to be”. ‘Pumpkin Soup’s chorus is pure timeless pop with some great harmonies, ‘Skeleton Song’ is great in parts and next single ‘Mouthwash’ is a simple but effective assertion of the virtues of normality.

On the other hand, these positives are just about outweighed by negatives and in context the previously annoying ‘Foundations’ is actually one of the highlights. ‘Dickhead’ and ‘Shit Song’ are both poor, the latter being unfortunately named for this very reason. The entertaining ‘Mariella’ is let down by the awkward phrasing and the fact that at times Nash sounds like Catherine Tate’s foulmouthed ‘Nan’ character. And at its most pronounced, that estuary accent and its intonations can be grating at the very least, something exacerbated by Nash’s continual insistence on multiplying the number of syllables in any given word by about fifty.

Criticisms aside, Nash has a short-term career secured by the hype and undoubted initial success of this album. The long-term will be decided on her ability alone – hype can only last so long (or am I being naïve…). There certainly seems enough song-writing talent here that, given a bit of time, could come up with a genuinely good album, especially if she branched out more from the teenage girl ‘dear diary’ stuff. But one wonders whether by the time that happens things will have moved on too much for sustained success (probably why the record company rushed this release through). There are some decent moments, and despite some accusations to the contrary the girl can definitely sing, but ‘Made Of Bricks’ comes up short in too many places to be considered anything better than average.

**

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

Video of the Month #1: Liars - Plaster Casts Of Everything [dir Patrick Daughters]

The all new Anywhere's Better Than Here feature - 'video of the month' - is inspired entirely by the fact that this video for Liars' new single is so damned incredible. It was directed by Patrick Daughters, who has previously worked with YYYs, Kings of Leon, Bright Eyes and The Shins to name but a few. For the record, the song is equally incredible.

Press play and turn it up...



ps it has some naughty (though hugely un-erotic) bits so be careful if at work...

Total Loss Farm - The Windmill, Brixton (26/27/28th July)

The problem with festivals is that there are often a veritable menagerie of distractions that can cause you to miss some of the bands you went there to see in the first place. For this correspondent Total Loss Farm was no different, despite the fact the entire weekend took place on one stage in one pub. Organised at the Windmill – the finest live venue south of the river no matter how many awards Brixton Academy wins – by the heady combination of the Sadder Days club night people and Trash Aesthetics label, the only festival-free weekend of the summer was celebrated in fine style with an impetuously eclectic line up...

The Friday is allegedly treated as a “warm-up” day for yours truly who is going to “save himself” for the Saturday night. Famous last words indeed. In any case, things start well as not two sips have been taken from my first pint when Julian Donkey-Boy kicks things off in appropriately lo-fi style. The first of a host of bands from Wakefield to appear over the weekend, JD-B could well be the result of a social experiment consisting of giving a geeky looking Northern kid with a doleful voice a load of Pavement albums and locking him in his bedroom with a guitar until he’s written a collection of quite lovely songs. Far from half-assed, this boy and his band will turn out to be one of the many highlights of the weekend. The Old House are also from this part of the world and are a bit like a band from Wakefield covering an American band covering Wakefield’s own The Cribs. And quite frankly they are effing great. I suspect some big things might be lurking round the corner for this lot.

By the time Napoleon III^rd has finished setting up his intriguing ‘future one man band’ ensemble, it is fair to say that I am regretting missing out on the free BBQ and the beer is starting to take its toll. In fact I get rather scared by the man. Switching between guitars and keyboard, Napoleon (I presume this is the accepted shortening?) sings weirdly grand psych-pop songs (that remind me of the Beta Band a bit, but I sense few may share my opinion) to a backing track that plays from a large reel-to-reel tape machine. However, when I manage to stop staring fixatedly at his on stage set-up – and latterly his beard – I decide that he does indeed have some fine songs.

This provides quite a segue into our esteemed hosts The Tailors who provide a rockier than usual take on their fantastic Wilco and Whiskeytown-inspired Americana. And here’s where the problems begin as I am already drunkenly stumbling down Brixton Hill as The Colonies are entertaining a full house of revellers with their harmonic guitar stylings. Sorry! For the record I am informed that I didn’t miss anything earth shattering…

Saturday begins, unsurprisingly, with a horrific hangover. Learning from my mistakes of the previous night I hit the BBQ first, and after struggling through a pint I am good to go again. Will Burns provides the delightfully simple but heartfelt first set of the evening. It’s as if he knew. His harmonica-filled, strummed alt-country ballads would be utterly charming any time of day, but tonight are like aurally administered Nurofen for my hangover. It is a good thing I get some before Sheffield’s Avida Dollars, who, due to transport mix-ups have to swap their headlining 11.30 set for a 7.30 one. The lack of a booze-fuelled capacity crowd to play to doesn’t seem to affect the intensity of performance from the 5 piece, though, with guitars flung across stage and singers on the floor before the end of the set. Their CBGBs-influenced ramshackle rock’n’roll show does, however, boast some quite wonderful tunes as well as the onstage antics.

Unfortunately more problems are on the horizon as I spend most of the next couple of hours trying to help the aforementioned Dollars work out how they are going to get themselves and their equipment to Heathrow to make their coach back up North on time, thus only catching sporadic parts of the Notorious Hi-Fi Killers and Joeyfat sets. The former, though, come across as the perfect party band, mixing Hendrix-style solos with stoner rock to get everyone into the Saturday night groove. The latter’s singer provided an even more intriguing stage show than even Napoleon IIIrd or Avida Dollars could manage, wearing kings crown, fox’s tail and glitter whilst walking back and forth through the crowd. The rest of the band play a take on post DC hardcore in the vein of Fugazi to a somewhat divided crowd.

I do manage to catch all of Radio LXMBRG and am easily won over, not least by their pride in their heritage. This comes not only in the form of the joyous Swedish pop-rock that they peddle, but also through the on stage banter: “We’re from Sweden, land of the Vikings… [three claps from crowd] You know you like that!” The Red Fishes are last minute replacements for the absent TAP Collective and, despite having sacrificed my place at the front hours earlier, they seem to fulfil the role more than adequately with their hypnotic psyche-pop from my position behind throngs of people and a large pillar. Making up for the missed live stuff I make the most of the after-band DJs from Rough Trade and Heavenly records and am last seen dancing to some 50s rock’n’roll in the early hours of the morning.

By Sunday those hardy souls in possession of weekend tickets are flagging, but thankfully a few others descend on the Windmill to soak up the last night of this excellent weekend. It is (thankfully for most) a predominantly quiet affair, just right for a Sunday evening. John George Cooper seems to be suffering as much as I was the previous day, but when he does shine he comes across as something like the son of Evan Dando. I am glad to find that his best track is included on my free Total Loss Farm compilation CD. Fireworks Night are one of the few bands this weekend that I have actually seen before and their brand of weird folk comes across perfectly in the hushed Windmill setting. As usual they put on a quite mesmerising show, including playing the requisite saw.

Rosie Taylor Project are a quite lovely band who count no one called Rosie Taylor among their number, but do have some whispered vocals that blend nicely with their woozy Americana. It is rare to hear – and enjoy – a band this quiet very often, but incredibly the following It Hugs Back manage to be almost as mellow. Either way both bands’ finger picked electric guitars – complemented by RTP’s trumpeter and IHB’s synth – fit perfectly with the Sunday comedown atmosphere. Even if some that have been present since Friday are almost lulled into a contented slumber.

Anyway, enough loveliness. Mi Mye are without doubt one of the highlights of the whole festival. Led by fiddle-playing, charmingly shy-cum-chatty Jamie Lockhart they are one of the most infectious live acts I’ve had the pleasure to see. Jamie regales the crowd with comically detailed tales of exactly what each song is about, and the band even manages to fit in a cover of a song by the Tailors to keep their hosts happy. New Zealand’s Lawrence Arabia round off what has been a rather magical weekend with some suitably genre-defying witty indie-rock, and I return to the Brixton night with a broad smile on a face. It is a face that has probably aged a good few years since Friday, but I now have a whole load of new favourite bands and a Total Loss Farm compilation CD to remind me exactly why. Til next year then…

Loney, Dear - Saturday Waits [Sub Pop single]

Just what is it about Swedish music? How does it remain so consistently lovely, and more to the point, so damn good? The latest Swede to soothe our non-Scandinavian ears, and probably the word of mouth success of 2007, Emil Svanängen – or to give him his confusingly punctuated pseudonym, Loney, Dear – returns with ‘Saturday Waits’, the second single from the much-lauded ‘Loney, Noir’ album.

‘Saturday Waits’ contains everything that has marked Loney, Dear out for praise, most notably the combination of sunshine pop melodies painted on a gentle summer canvas with a lo fi folk brush. As with many of the songs on ‘Loney, Noir’, it starts off fairly quietly before adding layers and layers of colours, hitting its peak with the Beach Boys harmonies of its chorus. Buried beneath these layers is a poignant tale of isolation that Svanängen brings to life and turn into a joyously uplifting three and a half minutes of glorious indiepop.

There is more joy to be had on the flip side of the single – if the Flaming Lips decided to pack in all ideas of giant concept albums and songs that explode to the very edge of pop reason and recorded an album of 4/4 summer pop songs it would probably sound a bit like ‘I Do What I Can’.

If Belle and Sebastian or the Magic Numbers lived in Sweden, they might just make music as effortlessly cool as this. ‘Saturday Waits’ is yet another song that makes you want to give it all up and move there – sooner or later we might just all do it.

****

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

The Strange Death Of Liberal England - Forward March! [Fantastic Plastic mini-album]

The Strange Death Of Liberal England are the kind of band that people like to talk about. From their provocative mouthful of a name, to their instrument-swapping, mute placard-raising, ball of energy of a live show, they are a band who seem destined and delighted to be in the spotlight. Following two well-received singles, the Portsmouth-based band’s first real attempt to secure an extended stay in this spotlight comes in the form of this eight track mini-album released on excellent indie Fantastic Plastic.

As a band they are often compared to Arcade Fire due to the grandiose nature of their songs, and, while for most of ‘Forward March!’ they don’t sound too much like them, this is by no means a worthless comparison. For just like Win Butler’s gang this six piece look rather an unlikely bunch until they start playing, they seem to be considerably emotionally invested in their music, and, most importantly, they create some quite wonderful noises. It will not go unnoticed with the discerning music fan that a certain Canadian band also released a self-titled mini-album/EP before gaining word of mouth notoriety for ‘Funeral’. There is more than mere Arcade Fire apeing to this South Coast band, though. There are hints of a number of other Canadian bands, including A Silver Mt Zion and Godspeed!, and some British, but in reality The Strange Death have crafted a sound all their own.

This is thanks in part to the rather distinctive voice possessed by frontman Adam Woolway. Like the band’s name, it is an instant opinion-polariser sounding at times frail, at times harsh and always unique. It is this voice, and the grand post-rock-like nature of The Strange Death’s songs, mostly building into sweeping shout along choruses, that make ‘Forward March!’ such an arresting work. It is based around the Strange Death’s magnum opus and debut single ‘A Day Another Day’ with its delicate, tortured opening that builds to the magnificent declaration “We are Bandini, Arturo Bandini!” (citing John Fante’s hero), delivered in glorious fashion. Another literary figure, this time Keats, is referenced in the band’s second single, the anti-capitalist pastoral vision that is ‘Oh Solitude’. Preaching the qualities of art over the rat race (“I paint my dreams upon the wall cos they can’t hear me”) it finds them at their most Arcade Fire-sounding.

Quite frankly, though, there isn’t a duff track on this very promising debut. The opening ‘Modern Folk Song’ and closing ‘Summer Gave Us Sweets But Autumn Wrought Division’ are cases in point. The former begins as gently as a folk song could before exploding into a cacophony of guitars and soaring vocal harmonies, while the latter is a beautiful post-rock instrumental that provides the perfect culmination to the album. In between, the band turn their hand to a variety of folk and post-rock sing-a-longs, from the epic ‘I See Evil’ to the hypnotic sea shanty ‘An Old Fashioned War’, the sound of which is perhaps inspired by their South Coast roots. The furious duo of ‘God Damn Broke and Broken Hearted’ and ‘Mozart on 33’ see Woolway’s voice at its angriest, with a snarling bile-spitting quality to it, the latter sounding like an apocalyptic vision from some sort of musical from the underworld.

At eight songs it is would be easy to see this as a the work of a band with not enough songs, but it when ‘Summer Gave Us Sweets…’ fades out it does seem almost like the closing moment of a completed ‘work’. It is perhaps more to the band’s credit that they did not pad out the collection with some instrumental fillers or b-sides and allowed this set to stand alone. That said, it is certainly not a perfect album and ‘Forward March!’ does have the feeling of a band that are still locating and honing their sound. It is, though, a pleasure listening to them doing so.

They seem a band truly treating music as an art form, both on stage and on record, something that is a joy to behold. It is difficult not to get drawn in by the intensity of ‘Forward March’ – emotion positively drips from the speakers – and if you allow yourself to be it is guaranteed to be a rather wonderful experience. Surely one of the most interesting British debuts of the year.

****

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

The Strange Death Of Liberal England - London, Summer 2007

The Strange Death Of Liberal England are not, they tell me, as we sit in Soho Square before their headlining, balloon-filled show at Oxford Street’s Metro, a political band. Despite the distinctive mouthful of a name, songs about ‘Good Old Fashioned War’ and a debut mini-album entitled ‘Forward March!’, it is very clear that whatever their political views may be it is solely the music that governs this peculiar slice of England. Nor are they a band that is afraid to be different, stating early on in tonight’s opening number ‘Modern Folk Song’: “Thanks but I think I’ll go my own way”. It’s in everything they do, from their music and the emotion they put into it (a rare commodity these days), to their stage show, to that name again – an opinion former before you’ve even heard the band. Is all this meant to be as provocative as it might seem?

“Andy suggested the name after a history book he was reading and it just seemed to fit from the start” Adam Woolway, the mop of hair of a frontman explains, “But I do think it is a provocative name that stands out – something we try and do with our music too. All that that name suggests is also quite apt given the climate we are living in at the moment, including our own political standing, though I for one would never call us a political band. Everyone’s got a political view whether they realise it or not and that’s going to come across if you’re in a band on a stage”. Andy Wright, strummer and basher of a variety of instruments, continues: “Unless what you do is a very conscious performance, which ours isn’t. We’re just ‘how we are’ on stage and you and your personality is going to come out. It’s not like we’re Rage Against The Machine or Billy Bragg or anything. We didn’t set out with a communist agenda or anything!”

Anyone witnessing the Metro performance would surely be convinced of how much this band cares about the music they are making. As they power their way through most of their outstanding debut mini-album ‘Forward March!’, the walls of this underground club are virtually dripping in the raw emotion of the songs and their delivery. They hover between several genres, but perhaps take more from post-rock than any other. In the landscape of ‘rock’ music, it is a genre that commands more presence than almost any other, basing itself around the dichotomy between violence and beauty. Yet despite the increased emphasis on vocals (these are at their heart ‘rock’, or even ‘modern folk’, songs after all) The Strange Death more than match this level of power. That they are able to carry this off is thanks in part to the arrangement and instrumentation of the songs, in particular the quiet/loud divide symptomatic of post-rock, but perhaps most of all it’s down to Adam’s voice. At times tonight and throughout the album, like the start of ‘Modern Folk Song’ or the delicate beginning to ‘A Day, Another Day’, it is the epitome of fragility, almost at cracking point. Yet when necessary, it transforms to a tortured wail or the bile-spitting anger of ‘An Old Fashioned War’ or ‘God Damn Broke and Broken Hearted’.

Adam is undoubtedly the centre of attention on stage, both from his role as frontman and the presence he inspires from his performance, but you get the impression that in this band everyone is as important as everyone else. This is something reinforced not just by the continual swapping of instruments between each other, but also the way that each individual member of the band gets so emotionally invested in the performance – whether their role at that time is banging the drums, attacking the guitar or bashing some percussion, they are all equally caught up in that one moment. The odd a capella break where they all sing as one, or any of the number of sing and shout along choruses that mark the most exhilarating moments in their music, confirm this feeling of a band that is addressing the audience as one entity.

The Strange Death first came to many people’s attention because of another thing for which they stand out: the eccentric nature of their stage show, during which no member speaks to the audience and any dialogue is replaced with large placards bearing firstly the name of the band and subsequently the titles of, or lines from, the next song. It is something Brecht used to do in his ‘epic theatre’ and I wonder whether this was an influence on the bands decision to use the technique? “It’s actually something that never crossed our minds when we were doing it”, Adam admits, “but it’s been mentioned before and when it was first mentioned we thought ‘Oh that’s quite fun, we can use that in interviews!’, so for the sake of the interview: yes! In all honesty though, I think we use them for the reverse of why Brecht did. He used them to distance what’s on stage from the audience, whereas we are trying to keep an atmosphere going, we’re trying to keep something going and actually trying to draw people in with it. It’s more like the signs that come up in silent movies in actual fact. We hope people will get something more from it rather than distancing ourselves from them. I think if we were to stop what we were doing after a hugely emotional piece of music, and stop and have a bit of banter with the audience, I think that would be more akin to what Brecht was doing than the reason we use [placards]. So ‘yes’ for the sake of pretentiousness and ‘no’ for the sake of truth!” Andy continues, “Our motivation was always to communicate with the audience without having to talk so it is the reverse of Brecht: instead of alienation hopefully people can connect more between songs.”

They do, though, seem to be a band that treats music as a true art form, as an expression of themselves that is almost redemptive in nature. When asked how the six members of the band came about playing in a band together, Adam replies “Mostly just out of dead-ends and desperation I think. Andy and I both went away to Uni, got home and found we didn’t have much to do, all of a sudden our lives were shit and we were unemployed or working shit jobs. We all knew each other anyway and came together to play music without any grandiose aims or anything. It was just a way to express yourself and just something to focus your energy on. And now it’s two years later and we’re sitting here with a record deal.”

As well as being named after a book, The Strange Death’s songs reference several literary figures, including Arturo Bandini (the hero of John Fante’s masterly novels) and Keats, and I ask whether they see themselves as being influenced as much by literature and other art forms as they do music? After careful thought Adam explains: “I’d say it’s all art forms really. When you write music you express yourself – those feelings come from somewhere and are feelings which are emanated from other things, whether it’s an art form or just looking at a tree on a certain beautiful evening or whatever. I don’t think I ever have written a song about that, but it might come! Art is a passing emotional expression and people pick up on that, like the way you interact with a certain painting. And that’s how you become influenced by it and it gives you the desire to express yourself. I think you’d be hard pushed to find original emotional expression or original ideas, it’s just a kind of interpretation of ideas.” Amongst other things, it is the purity of this approach and the commitment to their own way of doing things that gives The Strange Death’s music such emotional resonance.

The band deliver an undeniably powerful and captivating performance at Metro, and if you take the time to look around almost all of this gathered London audience has their gaze fixed on the six-piece throughout, soaring away with them and their harmonies. With songs like ‘A Day, Another Day’ with its communal “We are Bandini!” refrain, and the call to arms of ‘I Saw Evil’s “Is this all you care about?” create a real sense of this being more than just a performance by a rock band. It’s as if this strange group of figures on stage are preaching some sort of gospel. This kind of group experience, both between themselves on stage, and by dragging the audience along for the ride with them, is something the band seems to revel in. When questioned about a possible military theme running through the album (due to the title, artwork, a song called ‘An Old Fashioned War’, and lots of military style drumming) they dismiss this as, at best, a subconscious indicator of the times we are living in, preferring to see it as “Having a rallying call, creating an army almost, followers, people who won’t just look at you and think “Oh that’s nice music” but will feel something emotionally and want to come and join in. It’s certainly not a concept album about war, it’s more a general sense of having an army. There’s nothing more beautiful than a group of people coming together, not necessarily as an army to go and kill people, but to fight for a cause.”

Most people witnessing a performance by The Strange Death would find it difficult not to want to join this eccentric army after being thoroughly absorbed by the power of the music and magnetism of those on stage. There are, though, a few ‘after work’ types in suits in the Metro crowd that occasionally afford each other a curious glance at the noises that come from this motley crew, particularly the almost indescribable voice of this frontman with his orange candy floss hair that sprays out above a face that contorts into a variety of pained expressions throughout the show. This is nothing new to a band that developed playing the pubs and clubs of Portsmouth. As Andy freely admits, it wasn’t an easy place to cut their teeth: “People didn’t really get us straight away in Portsmouth. We’ve always kind of polarised people but in Portsmouth it was never the most open-minded of music places so to start off with, so quite a lot of people didn’t like us, but we always had confidence in what we were doing”. Adam chips in with some support for those on the South Coast: “I think certain people ‘got it’ and are still really supportive of us today, and we’ll never forget those people but I don’t know if it was the majority of people or just the loud ones [that] really, really didn’t dig it. And I think that was one of the first and probably the most important lesson we learned as a band: not to listen to those people. Even now as a band we certainly get bad reviews, but if we’d listened to bad reviews or bad press we would never have played a second gig. In some respects it was difficult at first, but if you’re not prepared to fight your corner, what are you doing here?”

As is entirely palpable, both on and off-stage, the band are loving being afforded this opportunity to parade their art in front of other people and as Adam confesses “We’re quite an ostentatious band – we’ve got the stupidly long name, we move about on stage, we want people to look at us”. They also seem to be enjoying all the things being in a band comes with. When asked what their favourite part about it is, Andy gives a very considered answer: “If you play a really good show that’s a real exhilarating feeling. But then also that creative spark of when a song really comes alive, that’s also great”, before Adam chips in with a far more honest assessment: “Getting drunk every night!” In fact, though, it seems clear that Adam and the rest of the band believe in the importance of music: “I think it’s just having an outlet or a vent for your own expression. And to have people listen to you, whether you’re political like Billy Bragg or whether you’re talking about wearing the same jeans for two weeks or whatever, the fact that people stand and listen to you is great – I think the best bit about being in a band has got to be the audience. And we did this thing called ‘Jail Guitar Doors’ organised by My Luminaries recently, the aim of which is to buy prisoners musical instruments to help them rehabilitate and give them some other way to vent their anger or frustration or whatever it is, and that just goes to show how important it can be to have something in your life, a medium to express yourself, rather than kicking a bus shelter or whatever.”

While this chaotic mob are still just starting out, they are already excited about the prospect of developing further. Speaking about the decision for a mini-album, rather than the full-blown version, Adam says: “Well we do think of it like one piece of work, but on the other hand because we’re such a young band and we recorded it quite quickly after signing a deal it’s also a way of us tying up the loose ends – this is the band from its beginning up to now. Now we can get on, and we’re all looking forward to the future and writing and recording again. That’s us established now [musically-speaking], and by the time you get to the end of track 8, ‘that’s the band’, that’s everything you need to know.” Andy rounds things off nicely: “Next time we go to write something we’ll be able to write it all from the beginning…”, and that’s a new beginning I, for one, can’t wait for.

As Adam says at the end of our interview, it’s nice to get things off his chest – “’Repent, repent!’ and all that” (referring to the slogan on one of the placards and the specially printed balloons that litter Metro tonight) – and “it feels a bit like being Catholic and going to confession”. You get the impression that each performance is the same for this band such is the emotional intensity, and it is a feeling shared by the audience. For, just like a band they are often compared to – Arcade Fire – watching The Strange Death Of Liberal England at the top of their game, like tonight, has the feeling of a religious experience. It took the Canadian band a while to gain the universal acclaim they now hold, and on this evidence there’s nothing to say that our own British incarnation won’t be worshipped just as much.

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

Spoon - Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga [Anti album]

Perennial All Tomorrow’s Parties favourites Spoon return with their latest collection of Texas-fired indie rock nuggets, the curiously titled ‘Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga’. Despite the relative US commercial success of 2005’s ‘Gimme Fiction’, the band remain relatively unknown on these shores some 11 years since their first release. While perhaps not surprising given the glut of British indie rock bands, it is a mite frustrating seeing as their approach is generally considerably better than a lot of the MOR home-grown fare.

If you’ve heard one Spoon album, you’ve pretty much heard them all. That is not to say they are without invention, but they have generally stuck to straightforward melody-driven indie – most notably on ‘Gimme Fiction’. Despite the familiar sound of 4/4 guitar music, though, Britt Daniel and co have managed to create a musical identity that is very much their own and their songs are instantly recognisable. In that sense, ‘Ga Ga…’ sticks to the Spoon formula, but at the same time finds them fiddling about with it just a little.

After the stripped down ‘Don’t Make Me A Target’ that gets the album off to a bluesy start, the most startling moment of the album hits you like the keyboard player from Sparks has just slapped you round the face. ‘The Ghost Of You Lingers’ has a staccato piano rhythm reminiscent of one of Ron Mael’s, and the intermittent otherworldly vocals and noises that come simultaneously through both channels are just as spooky as the man himself. Along with the cocaine-referencing ‘My Little Japanese Cigarette Case’, ‘The Ghost Of You Lingers’ proves that Spoon are not quite that straightforward.

In fact it becomes apparent that there has been some sort of shift in the last two years. ‘Eddie’s Ragga’ and ‘Rhthm and Soul’ are pared down numbers similar to the opening track and prove that Spoon are not desperate to cash in on any perceived commercialism present on ‘Gimme Fiction’. Even the poppy ‘Finer Feeling’ sounds more reserved than it might have on previous albums, and Daniel states on that song: “Sometimes I think I’ll find a love, the one that’s gonna change my heart. I find it in commercial appeal, and then this heart it could get chased away”, perhaps revealing the reason for this restrained approach…

Complete with a Motown backing track and hand claps ‘You Got Yr Cherry Bomb’ is one of a couple of 60s pop-infused numbers that prove that there is still a bigger sound to Spoon, albeit more sporadically than usual. The glorious romp that is ‘The Underdog’ continues the flirtation with that decade thanks its lively brass and more handclaps, while the busy album closer ‘Black Like Me’ is a fine way to end things.

‘Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga’ is, like pretty much every other Spoon release, an immensely enjoyable album, and one that is difficult not to be wooed by. For those not familiar with Spoon’s work, this is as good a place to start as any. It is certainly more stripped down that possibly would have been expected but in the end this just proves that Britt Daniel’s song writing talents are as on form as ever.

****

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

Magic Arm - Outdoor Games [Switchflicker EP]

You could create quite a physical figure with the names of contemporary bands: a Radiohead, a Blood Arm, a Magic Arm and some Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! with Stiff Little Fingers. The bottom half of the body would probably prove more troublesome, but the members of Towers Of London would of course suffice for either male or female genitalia.

The ‘Magic’ Arm in question is Manchester’s Marc Rigelsford, who has rather resourcefully made this debut seven track EP at home on his computer. It is easy to be a little suspicious of so-called ‘bedroom’ artists and wonder why they can’t do the normal thing and form a band, but it seems Mr Rigelsford was once in a band called Escape Pod so he is probably ‘normal’ after all.

The gentle title track of the EP is a good indication of what is to follow on ‘Outdoor Games’. Opening with a folky mix of guitar and banjo, the hushed vocals are reminiscent of the American folk of Iron and Wine, but the song builds to an understated psychedelia that gives it an atmosphere of its own. ‘You Should Know’ on side two of the EP is a more upbeat folk song that again places emphasis on a plucked banjo and layered banjo, and it is these moments which bring Magic Arm most success.

‘People Need Order’ brings this formula up to date with the addition of a tinny drum beat and touches of synth, with multitracked vocals contributing to a sound very much like Simian’s work as a band. ‘I Want You You Want Me’, too, adds some programmed beats, while ‘Move Out’ is the most unsettling number of the lot: a menacingly discordant track with hints of a frog chorus behind it.

‘DAQ’ is apparently Magic Arm’s “uninformed take on electronica”, and to be honest that’s exactly what it sounds like. It is by no means terrible but does give the impression of someone messing about on their computer and the insinuation that it is rather tongue in cheek detracts from it being taken too seriously as a piece of work. In truth, the mostly instrumental ‘I Want You You Want Me’ is a far more successful take on the genre.

This EP is certainly eclectic and it’s clear that Rigelsford has some ideas, some talent and a lot of time on his hands. Though eclectic, each track can loosely be placed in a leftfield folk bracket, with the ‘psychedelia’ and ‘electronica’ knobs twiddled to varying effect at each step. On the experimental evidence of ‘Outdoor Games’, Magic Arm would fit nicely with the Eat Your Own Ears stable of Adem, Four Tet et al, but there is plenty of honing to be done before truly competing with them for quality.

***

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

Destroyer - Destroyer's Rubies [Rough Trade album]

‘Rubies’ is the seventh studio album from Dan Bejar, AKA Destroyer, the sometime guitarist of Canadian ‘supergroup’ New Pornographers. Not specifically a brand new release, ‘Destroyer’s Rubies’ came out in America some 17 months ago on the fantastic Merge records. Its official UK release on Rough Trade gives a timely opportunity to re-examine this startling piece of work afresh. While not necessarily Bejar’s most ambitious work it is perhaps his most fully realised, combining his trademark poetics with sweeping pop songs that almost defy categorisation.

In fact, all you really need to know about this album is contained within the eponymous nine and a half minute opus that kicks off the album. ‘Rubies’ the song is essentially an epic poem set to a soundtrack that falls somewhere between lo-fi folk rock and laid back lounge pop. The dense conversational lyrics that open with the forceful statement: “Cast myself towards infinity / Trust me, I had my reasons”, twist and turn alongside a meandering guitar line, developing into a chorus of soothing “la la la la”s. Fitting both succinct couplets like “Blessed doctor, do your worst / Cut me open, remove this thirst” and seemingly awkward run on lines like “Don’t worry about her / She’s been known to appreciate the elegance of an empty room” seamlessly into the flow of his tale, Bejar proves that this kind of cerebral approach can function perfectly well as accessible, even ‘pop’, music.

Much of the album follows this formula, and this is no bad thing for it is both an affecting and effective one. It is Destroyer’s lyrics that tend to take many of the plaudits and much of the attention and this album is no different, for Bejar is a true poet and there are gems throughout. Mixing elements of Dylan’s imagery, Cohen’s overt but eloquent masculinity (almost all the songs are directed at, or discuss, women) and Lou Reed’s dark wit, these tales are an indulgent treat for those who like their songs full of allegory, wordplay and more simply, interest.

If there is a criticism of ‘Rubies’, it is that after nearly an hour of it, the album can become musically a little repetitive. Several of the songs end up with similar, generic “la la la” vocals, to the point that some of them are difficult to distinguish from each other. As a result of this, Destroyer’s music can sometimes be viewed, perhaps justifiably, as simply a vehicle for Bejar’s song-poems. However, for the most part Bejar’s individual style provides perfect accompaniment to his lyrics, and it is through the delicate aural touches of these deeply layered and expertly arranged epics that the quality of the wordplay is allowed to shine through. Despite the convoluted lyrics and the distinctive voice, ‘Rubies’ remains an extremely accessible album.

The finer moments on ‘Rubies’ are numerous. ‘European Oils’ is a gentle piano-led number that boasts some great use of the tremolo and builds to a fantastic, if short-lived, fuzzy guitar solo, and some typically obtuse but intriguing lyrics: “When I’m at war I insist on slaughter and getting it on with the hangman’s daughter. / She needs release. / She needs to feel at peace with her father, the fucking maniac…”. This, along with ‘Painter In Your Pocket’, is where Bejar gets closest to Leonard Cohen with his pointedly artistic treatment of words, the latter including the perfect: “I didn’t stand a chance, I couldn’t stand at all”. Though similar, both ‘Looters’ Follies’ and ‘A Dangerous Woman Up To A Point’ are individual joys with more lines of pure poetry such as the alliterative “Girls like gazelles graze, / boys wearing bells blaze new trails in sound” (‘Looters’ Follies’). Later in the piece, ‘Priest’s Knees’ and ‘Watercolours In The Ocean’ are pure pop songs that belie the density of what is held within them.

‘Destroyer’s Rubies’ is the sound of a half-mad drunkard soaked in bourbon, sitting at the piano in the corner of some dingy Vancouver bar, rambling verses tinged with brilliance and invoking the power of some hellish lounge band. Whatever you think of Bejar’s voice or his dense, elaborate lyrics and wordy approach to song writing, it is an album that, despite the length and meandering nature of many of the songs, remains generally captivating throughout. The perfect antidote to modern watered-down singer songwriters, Destroyer’s music is interesting, intellectual, intense and delivered with the shameless integrity of a true master. Quite simply this is the work of an artist.

****

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

Candidate - Oxengate [Snowstorm album]

I am not generally in the habit of reading what other people think about records before I review them, but in the case of Candidate’s fifth album ‘Oxengate’ I accidentally stumbled across a review of it in the Sunday Times’ Culture section. And not just any review, this was an ‘Album Of The Week’, five star declaration of greatness that struck me with some surprise seeing as on initial listens it had inspired little above a pleasant apathy. Time for a re-evaluation perhaps…

It is of little surprise that the likes of the Sunday Times and Q magazine are full of praise for the trio’s brand of song, for they peddle a brand of classic songwriting that borrows from the accessible end of everything from 60s folk, to 70s singer songwriters, to 80s power ballads. The album does, though, begin in impressive form. ‘Furlough’ is a timeless slow-burner that centres on the bewitching repetition of the phrase “I will wander through your dreams tonight”. Joel Morris’s vocals are as impressive as the understated instrumentation that avoids any temptation the band may have had for the overblown.

The follow up to ‘Furlough’, however, is the middle of the road country song ‘(Going Back To’ Amsterdam’ which has little going for it past the annoyingly catchy opening harmony. When relying on classic songwriting, as Candidate do, there is a very fine line between excellent and average and it is this dichotomy that proves to be Candidate’s downfall. On an album totalling 16 tracks, there are a number of very good songs but their individual qualities are tarnished by the lesser ones, in the minority though they probably are.

There is plenty of quality though. ‘Field Recording I’ utilises some attractive CSN&Y harmonies, while ‘Harryhausen’ is another classic low-key pop ballad with its enduring “It’s almost just like the first time” chorus and witty poke at artificiality of its lyrics. The touching ballad ‘Tiny Tim’ is also expertly delivered, the unsettlingly atmospheric ‘Avro No. I’ adds depth to the album and ‘The Sky’ is a suitably anthemic end to the album. One can’t help thinking that this ending comes a little late though as the instrumental vignettes and half-songs dotted throughout the album mean it does drag on a little. And not everything is quite as good as the above either. ‘When They Rose From The Reeds’ attempts an Indian mysticism and half gets there, the a capella ‘Wesley’ repeats the mass vocal trick of ‘Amsterdam’ with similarly undesirable results, and ‘Swear It Will Snow’ and ‘Marie Alexander’ are merely decent ballads. It seems my initial thoughts were about right, and, in truth, if ‘Oxengate’ was a 12 track rather than 16 track album I am sure this would be a much more positive review.

This is by no means fashionable music, and that is in no way a criticism but a mere statement of fact. ‘Oxengate’ benefits from purity of songcraft, technical excellence and great production and should by rights be gracing a larger number of coffee tables around Britain than it probably will. It is, though, bereft of much in the way of excitement. Not every album needs to be thus, of course – some bands are able rest safe in the knowledge that they make good, listenable music. Candidate is one such band and ‘Oxengate’ is just that: a ‘good’ album.

***

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

Nine Black Alps interview - London, 05/07/07

After two long years touring much-lauded debut album ‘Everything Is’ in the UK, Europe and beyond – in the face of a lot of largely unwarranted and certainly unwanted ‘new Nirvana’ rhetoric – Manchester’s Nine Black Alps are finally back out on the road in anticipation of the follow up ‘Love/Hate’.

Slightly worse for wear after the previous night’s ICA performance alongside Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, the band’s vocalist/guitarist Sam Forrest, bass player Martin Cohen and drummer James Galley took some time out over breakfast to talk candidly with rockfeedback about everything from kazoos, to the dark heart of the music industry, to talking bollocks in interviews. And what lovely fellas they were too.


Rockfeedback: You played with BRMC at the ICA last night – it must be nice to be playing some new songs after touring the last album for 2 years! You must have had these new songs ready for a while by now?

Nine Black Alps (Sam unless otherwise indicated): Yes! It felt like we were going to play that set forever almost. The songs on this album have been building up since we started touring the first record but we had never played a lot of them live much before this round of touring so that part of it is strange.

RFB: How has the reaction been to the new material?

NBA: We get people singing along to key words of some of the songs which is weird, but it’s hard to tell really. Whenever other bands play new songs live I don’t really know what do with myself! We are doing half and half old and new at the moment – you can’t try and impress people with new stuff, you just have to know what sounds good to you as a band.

RFB: Is playing live still the bit you like best out of being in a band?

NBA: Even after we’ve been on tour for a while it’s just fun to get out there and play. When you’ve been sitting in the van all day it’s always the bit you look forward to and the focus of your day.

RFB: You spent a lot of time touring in America last year, what was that experience like?

NBA: There’ are lots of really long drives between shows! You tend to play a show, drive for a 3 or 4 hours through the night to a hotel in Nebraska or somewhere, then get up early and drive for another 8 or 9 hours to get to the gig, usually end up there late, panickingly set everything up and there’ll be nobody there! Then you pack down and do the whole thing again… We did that for about two months. It was a good experience though, but definitely not easy. In the UK things seem to happen very fast, whereas over there nothing happens – everything’s very slow. It was character building, though, and we got to see lots of places that I’d never dreamed of seeing, which is usually my favourite part of touring abroad: going to places like Japan or America – I’d never be able to go to places like that if I wasn’t in a band.

RFB: Are you excited about finally releasing your second album (‘Love/Hate’)?

NBA: Yeah, it just keeps getting pushed back! We finished recording it at the end of February and I wrote the last song for it last June [2006] so I just want to get the f**ker out really. It’s kind of frustrating but I guess that’s the mechanism that the industry works in so there’s not much we can do about it. But I much prefer the sound of this one to the last record.

RFB: Was that a conscious decision or just something that happened organically? Did [‘Love/Hate’ producer] Dave Sardy have much input?

NBA: We just tried to give the songs more dynamics rather than just going flat out the whole way through, and just tried to make it more interesting from start to finish. It’s got a crisper sound with less saturation and lots of technical nonsense that I’ve forgotten already! It sounds harder. It was very much a collaborative thing [with Sardy] with lots of searching for weird sounds to make it more exciting. Whether it’s drums in an echo chamber or approaching the vocals in a really different style –lying down on the floor singing or just anything to get more atmosphere around it than just a straight out rock record. That’s what we aimed for with the first record, a straight rock record. There was sort of an unwritten rule on that one that “we can’t use pianos”, “we can’t use tambourines” and we kept the harmonies to an absolute minimum. This time we’d be like “stick three harmomies there” and “bash a tambourine there” and we’ve got the odd bit of organ, the odd kazoo in there too…

RFB: The first album seems very much concerned with being an outsider, both in terms of the subject matter of the songs and externally the way you were determined to follow your own path as a band rather than fit in with any kind of ‘scene’. Has that changed with time and success? Has the subject matter of the lyrics changed with that success and different lifestyle?

NBA: I don’t think it’s necessarily anything to do with being outsiders as such. With the first album it was about just making a noise, a real aggressive sound, so that’s obviously going to come across as more of an outsider thing than a tender personal thing. I wrote the words to the first one [‘Everything Is’] just to fill up the songs because I had the melodies already, and it was just pretty much whatever came into my head. I honestly didn’t realise that it was going to be released or that I’d ever be interviewed about my lyrics! A lot of stuff on there is overly dramatic in a way, but it’s very pure which I think is good. Whereas this one I think I probably was more aware that people would be hearing it so a lot more care went into it. I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing but I think it’s just something that I don’t want to be embarrassed about. On the first one there’s lines like “I’ll take my life” and “Not everyone can turn you on” and they’re not really things that I feel that good about singing necessarily – I think some of it makes me sound like some sort of loony! The songs on ‘Love/Hate’ are more conversational as opposed to a madman sitting in the corner talking bollocks like ‘Everything Is’!

RFB: Is there any reason behind the title ‘Love/Hate’?

NBA: A lot of bullshit theories keep coming up as to why we chose that one – maybe it’s because the first album was all ‘hate’, this one is kind of in the middle of ‘love’ and ‘hate’ and the third one will be all ‘love’. That could be complete bollocks though. It sounds cool and it looks good written down, that’s probably the main thing.

RFB: When you first got into the band was it because you just wanted to have a laugh just making some music rather than any pretensions of fame and fortune?

NBA (James): Absolutely. We had no ambition or goals to get a record deal or anything, we just wanted to play some songs...

(Martin): …and play some gigs. That was pretty much our one ambition – just to play a gig.

(Sam): That’s not to sound naïve or anything, we just thought if we could get a set of songs, maybe we could play a gig – that was the only dream at the time.

RFB: So how have you reacted to it all kicking off for you over the last couple of years then? Do you like the glamorous (or not!) side of things like interviews, videos, photo shoots etc?

NBA: We just turn up to things! We just turned up to this interview. For one I don’t think there’s any way of coming out of an interview without feeling like a tosser. You can either say the same thing every time, try and go for something deep and insightful or you can just take the piss and talk absolute bollocks.

(James): Whatever happens you never feel like you’ve said the right thing.

[At this point I point out that I generally feel like an idiot when interviewing a band – it’s good to know that the feeling is mutual.]

RFB: Many of the best bands through history have always recorded songs with a pop melody at their heart, however they’re dressed up. This is something that also seems to come through in your music, is that just the way you write songs or is it more of a planned decision?

NBA: Good songs are just good songs. There’s something about a well balanced song that… I think there is almost a science to it. But it always has to have some kind of twist or it just becomes kind of formulated generic chart pop. But ‘pop’ is undeniable and every year there’ll be at least one song that you don’t want to like but it gets you and moves you. Even Motorhead write pop songs – they write better pop songs than Celine Dion does. I think you can stretch pop into as many different directions as you want, from Beach Boys on ‘Smile’ when they just completely exploded everything – like Flaming Lips on ‘Soft Bulletin’, that’s still pop music to me, but they took it to its maximum limit. A lot of the time, though, it is very safe ‘verse, chorus, verse, middle 8’ which can be very hard to get out of. It’s about testing yourself, but a good melody will always rule all.

RFB: Are you all still big music fans? Do you follow new bands?

NBA: We don’t really read the press or listen to the radio – once you’re inside the mechanism you end up just thinking things like “Oh, they’ve got that photographer” or “Oh, they’re getting interviewed for that magazine”, it’s kind of horrible. I’m still a music fan but I find modern bands hard to get your head around. Once you’ve seen the puppet master…

RFB: Has seeing inside the industry changed the way you feel about being in a band then?

NBA (Sam):I think it definitely has, yeah. Without wanting to sound ungrateful, playing things like gigs with corporate sponsors end up having a very strange atmosphere.

(James): It ends up becoming that the performance is the least important part of the night, the promotion and the advertising becomes much more important.

(Sam): You end up thinking, “is anyone actually enjoying themselves”? I’m sure they are but… I don’t know if that’s just the way things are going, with things like [independent record shop chain] Fopp closing down as well – you seem to need much more these days than just music. We get asked to do a million things, like Bluetooth video downloads – it just seems like they try and make you do as much as possible to cover every medium because no-one knows what the hell is going on! I’m kind of envious of bands from the 70s because they just played gigs, made records, occasional photo shoots and that’s it. Now it’s videos and web chats and you end up doing so many events that you don’t know why or who it’s for. I think eventually the performance is going to suffer because you end up diluting it and spreading it too thin. But also you don’t want to turn anything down because you want to do this, to make music is what you’re here for. I think it’s probably all just evolving really…

RFB: Do you have any views on the way the industry is evolving: moving towards downloads etc?

NBA (Martin): I think when you make a record you actually want something to show for it, a material possession, so I hope physical formats like vinyl never go away. It’s really unsatisfying when you get emailed your album…

(Sam): Yeah that’s weird. I’m sure everything will be digital soon though, I’m sure books will be burned and turned into digital media files that broadcast themselves to you and turn their pages automatically and things. It’s the future – it’s undeniable!

RFB: Another thing with the changing nature of music and the internet is that bands are somewhat obliged to have a dialogue with their fans through MySpace and forums. Is that something you like, or would you like to keep your distance from that side of things? Some fans can get quite obsessive…

NBA: It’s kind of a love/hate thing. Sometimes it can be fun, sometimes not. Luckily I don’t think many of our fans are that hardcore, but also I do like the mystique of rock bands.

(James): I think those days have gone because it is now so easy for bands and fans to interact via digital means, so there’s really no escaping it. And if you don’t do it fans can get pissed off because you’re maybe perceived to not be ‘giving’ enough. We do look after our own MySpace and do a lot of the website stuff ourselves and we’ve done that from the start so it’s been great to keep that going.

RFB: So it’s two years down the line [after looks of horror from the band, this is quickly changed to one year] and you’re done with ‘Love/Hate’ and everything has gone great – where do you see Nine Black Alps going next? Your ‘love’ album?

NBA: I don’t know, you can never tell. One thing I’ve learned is the minute you plan something it doesn’t happen – as soon as you say “I’m definitely not doing that”, you find yourself doing it. So we won’t tempt fate!

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.