Bon Iver - For Emma [4AD single]

Despite the ubiquity of ‘Skinny Love’ earlier in the year, ‘For Emma’ – the half-title track of Bon Iver’s debut album – is actually the first official single to be released by the band. Not only does it provide fitting accompaniment to their first proper headline tour this side of the Atlantic, but such was the consistent brilliance of For Emma, Forever Ago, it is actually quite refreshing to take one of its many standout songs on its own and really give it a listen.

Despite the pervading misery of the messy break-up lyrics, it is actually one of Justin Vernon’s more positive songs, musically speaking. The trademark aching vocal is set against rhythmic acoustic guitar, with the opening horn section as warm and comforting as a Hovis advert. In contrast to the gentle melancholy of the music, the somewhat difficult to decipher lyrics are filled with tension and resentment directed towards the eponymous ex: “Go find yourself another lover…to string along”, sings Vernon, before launching into perhaps his most memorable chorus. Another delightful instrumental positively blooming with brass and slide guitar and the fleeting moment of a song disappears from whence it came.

The B-side comes in the form of ‘Wisconsin’, perhaps a paen to the secluded cabin in which the album was written. A more subdued, hymn-like affair, Vernon’s striking vocal is left to hang above the minimal atmospheric backing. In fact, it sounds more like it was recorded under water than its origins in the snowy wilderness. Recorded as part of the For Emma, Forever Ago sessions, it is no surprise that the song gives off the same air of gloomy despair as the rest of the band’s work: “That was Wisconsin, that was yesterday / Now I have nothing that I can keep / Cos any place I go I take another place with me”. It is undoubtedly a song that could feature on any album of worth, including For Emma, Forever Ago.

Just as the appearance of ‘Skinny Love’ and Vernon’s show-stealing Later… solo performance announced the arrival of Bon Iver’s falsetto Americana earlier in this most British of summers, so ‘For Emma’ serves as a timely reminder that there are a couple more seasons left for their music to soundtrack. One of the standout tracks on a memorable album, few finer songs will be heard this year.

*****

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

Calexico - Carried to Dust [City Slang album]

For some it was on Hot Rail (2000) that John Convertino and Joey Burns’ Tex-Mex Americana vision reached its peak. Their, well, “Cal-exican” sound felt at once warm and familiar to fans of alt-country and Americana (and before that the likes of Love) but at the same time completely unique, with mariachi story-telling on tracks like ‘Ballad of Cable Hogue’ and ‘Service and Repair’ alongside brass-laden instrumentals fitting together as perfectly as nachos and guacamole. For many others it was 2003’s well-regarded follow up Feast of Wire, but either way, there have undoubtedly been patches of near-greatness for the Tucson duo and their many contributing friends throughout their 12 years. The decision to move in a more mainstream, brass-less, instrumental-less direction on 2006’s Garden Ruin, though, didn’t really reach the heights that might have been expected of it. So (if bands like Calexico actually worry about such things) sixth album Carried To Dust could be something of a pivotal release: returning to their desert roots (as the album’s title may imply) or carrying on down the shiny path to a potentially wider audience.

With that in mind, the opening ‘Victor Jara’s Hands’ seems like a statement of intent, containing each of the elements that first set the band apart from their contemporaries, from jubilant brass, to Spanish vocals, to the Latin American subject matter. It’s a bubbly start and has all the hallmarks of a live favourite, but for some reason there’s something that, at least at first, just doesn’t sit quite right about this re-introduction to the sounds of the dusty West – it ’s almost as if the band might be trying too hard to re-capture former glories. The hushed ‘Two Silver Trees’ is definitely heading in the right direction thanks to a dream-like chorus, but it still doesn’t quite excite as much as it could.

It takes until the gorgeous waltz ‘The News About William’, that builds from rattling drums and delicate strings to the closing soaring vocals, that Carried To Dust really settles into its groove. And from here it is some groove. The brief instrumental ‘Sarabande in Pencil Form’ is a strangely settling segue into ‘Writer’s Minor Holiday’ and ‘Man Made Lake’, songs that certainly confirm the growing suspicion: Calexico are back on form. In a big way. The road-trip rhythms, backing “ooohs” and “aaahs” and lyrics about “my Irish whiskey glass” of the former track, conjure up lofty literary allusions of a hard-drinking Kerouac or Bukowski, while the screeching guitars and dramatic tones of the latter picks up where ‘The News About William’ left off, showcasing the more impressive end of Joey Burns’ range compared with the whispered gruffness elsewhere.

Thankfully, the standard far from drops after this auspicious couplet and there are more and more signposts to the fact that this is Calexico on top of their game. The Latin sounds of the bouncy duet ‘Inspiracion’ provide a convenient time to practice your conversational Spanish, and this along with the likes of ‘House of Valparaiso’ (featuring old friend Iron &Wine’s Sam Beam) and the instrumental ‘El Gatillo (Trigger Revisited)’ recalls the finer mariachi moments of Calexico’s back catalogue. For the latter this is literally the case, it being a re-imagining of the Feast of Wire track ‘The Trigger’, but the initial concerns about the opening track being an attempt to recapture something lost are proven totally unfounded with each passing song. And in contrast to the it is perhaps the aching ballad ‘The Slowness’, steeped in pedal steel and lovely boy-girl harmonies is perhaps the most enrapturing moment, providing the soft centre to the album.

At 15 tracks Carried To Dust is a relatively long album (though not particularly by Calexican standards), but such is the consistency and vibrancy of almost every one of them that it seems to fly by, right up to the three suitably delightful compositions that wrap it up: a third and equally satisfying instrumental, ‘Falling From Sleeves’, the broody ‘Red Blooms’, and another triumphant collaboration, ‘Contention City’ with Tortoise’s Doug McCombs. Along with the other four fifths of the record, these tracks are filled with a whole range of textures – layers that get deeper and richer with every listen. To return to the original suggestion, it seems that rather than revert back entirely to their roots or continue down the road on which Garden Ruin seemed to be headed, Calexico have taken an entirely preferable route. For throughout the album the band perfectly bridge the gap between their unique Tex-Mex heritage and a more rounded sound.

If you were being overly critical you could say it is perhaps a little “lite” in a few places and lacks some of the menace of earlier works, but Calexico’s sixth long player is a real triumph, and at least as good as Feast of Wire, Hot Rail or anything they have put their name to thus far. The best thing is, the way it all clicks in to gear here makes for great excitement about Convertino and Burns’ future work – something you probably couldn’t have said if they had made a Garden Ruin Part 2. As it is, with Carried to Dust Calexico have hit the pinata squarely on the nose, and we are the lucky ones left to reap the candy they have left scattered beneath.

****

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

Conor Oberst - Souled Out!!! [Wichita Single]

So 13 years since his last solo album (released when he was still just 15), Conor Oberst has decided to freshen things up a little, give Bright Eyes a bit of a breather and go back to basics with his fourth solo effort overall, Conor Oberst. Maybe he just felt he needed some Conor time. Whatever the reasons behind the return to singledom, thankfully (or not, depending on your point of view) very little seems to have altered musically in this new eponymous direction, with much of Conor Oberst – not least single ‘Souled Out!!!’ – continuing in a the same more polished vein as 2007’s Cassadaga and before that ‘I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning’.

On the evidence of ‘Souled Out!!!’ it does seem that being freed of the Bright Eyes moniker has left Oberst in a particularly relaxed frame of mind. Virtually everything about this free spirited single, from the carefree pun of the exclamatory title, to the regular background chatter and descent into laughter mid-verse, has a throwaway air to it. Fairly non-sensical lyrics about things like flying “to the moon in a soda can” fill the verses, while the euphoric chorus announces that “You won’t be getting in” because – there’s that pun again – it’s all “souled out in heaven”. Despite this un happy conclusion, Conor et al certainly sound like they are having fun and it all adds up to a breezy country rock sing-along that is by no means Oberst’s finest hour, but remains a perfectly agreeable listen.

There is actually something surprisingly Oasis-like about ‘Souled Out!!!’, with both the simple scale of the opening guitar solo and the chorus backing vocals sounding rather Noel-esque (not to mention the soul-related pun). If the Gallaghers had been more into the Stones than the Beatles and just spent the summer listening to Exile on Main Street, they might have come up with something bit like this. Taking on board this comparison, the ultra cynical might even think that, taken in isolation, this song bears all the hallmarks of a 3 and a half minute, written for radio single, and that his forays with the Mystic Valley Band may even be Oberst’s way of cashing in without damaging the Bright Eyes brand. This would be way too harsh on man who has already enjoyed the top two singles on the Billboard chart, though, and one who has been turning out albums full of alt-country gems for over 15 years. Especially when you take into account that Conor Oberst is another such record.

In reality, ‘Souled Out!!!’ is just a slightly more radio-friendly than usual taster of another very good album from Conor Oberst. Whether you think the man’s “souled out” or not, you can call it what you want: Conor Oberst, Bright Eyes, it’s all pretty much business as usual.

(For fans of US pop culture it’s worth noting that, as well as download, the single is available as a 7” featuring an etching by Grace McSorely comic creator Kaite Murphy.)

***

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

The Hold Steady - Stay Positive [Rough Trade album]

The Hold Steady became everyone’s favourite underdogs with breakthrough third album Boys and Girls in America – something that probably even surprised themselves. The Brooklynites’ blend of blue collar Springsteen-infused boisterous rock and Minneappolis-inspired lyrics about drinking and bars and girls and drinking...in bars...with girls didn’t seem to fit into the musical landscape of new rave, math rock and the rest. Nor did the band wear skinny jeans, have big hair...and they certainly weren’t young. But all this just makes the Hold Steady’s success all the more satisfying. Sounding like they were forged from the sticky, beer-stained tables of the dirtiest, smokiest underground bar this side of the Twin Cities, the five-piece proved that a collection of good rock songs can cut through any passing genre.

Following up the success of Boys and Girls in America was always going to be an intriguing challenge for The Hold Steady, and from the off it becomes apparent that they intend to take cue from their own name on the music front. Fans of the 2006 album, eagerly anticipating Stay Positive as a much-needed rock’n’roll fix, will be delighted by the surge of adrenalin of opening duo ‘Constructive Summer’ and come-back single ‘Sequestered in Memphis’. It’s hard to imagine a better re-introduction to the band than the gigantic shout-along choruses of these two anthems, with the former’s “our songs are sing-along songs” refrain laying down a telling marker. Setting pulses racing immediately, it’s clear that they haven’t forgotten what made a whole load of people fall in love with them.

Sadly, this exhilarating early pace is a little too much for the band to keep up with. The harpsichord of ‘One For The Cutters’ – while perhaps admirable for the fact it is something a bit different – is an unwanted addition to the song, and neither this nor the synth twiddling meets crunching guitars and dirty lyrics of ‘Navy Sheets’ really gel as songs. Elsewhere, the melodrama and religious allegory (recurring Christian imagery is noticeable throughout the album) of the epic ‘Two Crosses’ is a little overblown to take seriously – especially the jarring phrase “Baby let’s transverberate”.

In between, though, there are some great moments. ‘Lord I’m Discouraged’ is a morose ballad to rank alongside last album’s ‘First Night’, with a typical Craig Finn chorus telling of “excuses and half truths and fortified wine”, and even featuring a Slash circa-Use Your Illusion-style guitar solo guaranteed to get the air guitar fingers twitching. Both ‘Yeah Sapphire’ and ‘Magazines’ are pleasurable reimaginings of other beer-in-hand Hold Steady songs, with some sparkling bittersweet couplets: “One boy calls while the other texts, she’s got boys on board and boys on deck / Second dates and lipstick tissues, it all gets pretty heavy, girl I hope you don’t let it crush you”.

Something that certainly remains in delightful evidence throughout the album is Finn’s propensity for razor-sharp observations. The bespectacled frontman and songwriter still manages to work up some magical phraseology, with lines that are guaranteed to remind you of a night out you once had or a girl you once met, a nostalgic smile firmly planted on your face. The subject matter remains the same as ever, from barfly girls (“In bar light she looked alright, in daylight she looked desperate” – ‘Sequestered in Memphis’) to big drinking nights (“Me and my friends are like ‘double whiskey, coke, no ice’ / We drink along in double time; might drink too much, but we feel fine” - ‘Constructive Summer’), but there is a slightly resigned air of ageing rockers that pervades throughout, making it a more contemplative album than the balls-out Boys and Girls in America.

Title track ‘Stay Positive’ is typical of this more thoughtful approach. A sharp burst of vintage Hold Steady – all cutting lyrics and triumphant backing vocals – it serves as something of a premature requiem for the band, describing the pros and cons of their sudden fame and foreseeing its inevitable end when “the kids at the shows will have kids of their own, the sing-along songs will be our scriptures”. The overall message, though, is indicative of what makes The Hold Steady so appealing – simply “We gotta stay positive”.

Stay Positive is big, it’s brash, it’s unmistakeably The Hold Steady. It’s an entertaining listen with some real treats that, some beefier production and a few more instruments aside, complements but never rises above its predecessor. However, while not surpassing Boys and Girls in America, they still sound like the best bar-room band this side of the Mississippi river and provide the perfect soundtrack to a late night Jack Daniels session. It’s also quite likely to be the only album you’ll hear this year containing the words “sequestered” and “transverberate”. If you’re a fan, there’s more than enough in Stay Positive to keep you content, but if you didn’t like them before, you certainly won’t now.

***

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

Kid Harpoon - The Second EP [Young Turks EP]

Anyone who has had the pleasure of seeing a Kid Harpoon live show will testify that there is, indeed, enough energy coming off stage to probably take down a small whale. Thankfully, Tom Hull has directed this vigour into far less morally dubious pursuits with the release of his – you guessed it – second EP, ‘The Second EP’. While much of his first EP retained a demo feel to it, this time things sound more polished. But the six tracks each keep alive both the rawness of the first collection and the vibrancy of a Kid Harpoon live performance.

The drama that was in evidence on ‘The First EP’ is immediately apparent here with opener ‘Riverside’, previously released as Kid Harpoon’s first single. Verging on the epic it is dripping with imagery. Wailing guitar and Hull’s voice – alternating from whisper to snarl – cuts through the Waterboys-esque Celtic strumming, and, in fact, the ceaseless energy of ‘Riverside’ puts one in mind of Mike Scott’s band’s ‘Fisherman’s Blues’. Either way, it’s an auspicious, energetic start to the EP, with allegorical lyrics and some great vocal work.

‘Fathers And Sons’ continues the pastoral imagery of ‘Riverside’: “Baby my baby, we’ll run to an island, I’ll catch us some dinner, buy you a diamond. Playing my music with you right beside me, I will be happy there” and similarly to ‘Riverside’ is built around the combination of snare drum, strummed acoustic and robust lead guitar. ‘Suicide Grandad?’ is the strangely cheerful story of an old man contemplating a “stylish” suicide, to leave a world that holds no more for him “to the children”. Brimming with artful couplets like “we can have a laugh or be the joke” it is the perfect example of Hull’s thoughtful approach to music-making. The song’s bittersweet outlook mirrors piano-led fourth track ‘In The Dark’, which is for the most part rather gloomy, but offers that “in the dark” there is a “glimmer of hope”.

Her Body Sways is the lightest moment of the EP, preaching the preference for “birds” rather than “gunshots” in the air, and something upbeat is probably necessary for the EP not to slip into maudlin territory. Formed around a breezy piano solo and bustling rhythm section it is simply a well-executed pretty little love song. Its counterpoint is final track ‘Lay Of The Land’: a sparse contemplative ballad (this time concentrating on the negative side of romance) in the same vein as first EP highlight ‘As It Always Was’ that showcases the delicate side of Hull’s song writing as well as the quality of his voice.

With his second EP Kid Harpoon builds on the successes of the first and continues to establish his own ground among the swathe of London-based young men forging paths around him, including label-mate Jack Peñate, Jamie T and Lightspeed Champion. The songs on ‘Second EP’ are earnest, lyrically astute and often just great, and if the forthcoming debut album matches the twelve songs already released by Kid Harpoon it should certainly be one to watch out for.

****

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

Cass Mccombs - That's That [Domino single]

Cass McCombs’ last offering (following his debut A) PREfection is one of those lost gems of records I had almost forgotten about, and it is with a mixture of reminiscence and intrigue that new material from the enigmatic Californian is greeted. Despite some six years of mutterings of big things, he has as yet failed to make the waves for which he initially seemed destined, critically as well as commercially. Three years have now passed since PREfection’s release and the first taster from new Dropping The Writ album finally arrives in the form of blog favourite ‘That’s That’.

The song is a story about a runaway girl, suggested rather than told through minimalist brushstrokes. McCombs is a songwriter whose often obtuse, but generally poetic, lyrics beg as much attention as the music itself. ‘That’s That’ is no different and includes some perfectly aching poignancy with the refrain “playthings are laid to waste, thrown out to make better space”. Elsewhere the understated words delicately tell of mundanity and desperation: “So I got a job cleaning toilets at a nightclub in Baltimore”.

Musically things seem to have shifted a little in the three years since PREfection, and this first pointer from Dropping the Writ could loosely be described as 80s-sounding Americana, though it is quite singular in sound. McCombs has spent much of his musical life travelling from place to place and this record feels just as nomadic. It is rambling yet purposeful, held together and driven on by the rhythm of the stand out bassline, as regular as an engine turning over. The voice delivering the lines, too, is suitably yearning and fragile and the air of resignation of McCombs delivery of the gorgeous line “I guess that’s that, almost shorter than a dream and definitely of less note” perfectly distils the essence of the song.

‘That’s That’ is further proof of McCombs songwriting prowess, which, combining simplicity with opaqueness, is open to endless deconstruction. If this is anything to go by, then Dropping the Writ will demand some serious listening time.

****

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

The Whitest Boy Alive - Dreams [Universal album]

That Erland Øye does come up with some inventive monikers for his musical endeavours. First there was his Kings of Convenience, then album titles Quiet is the New Loud and Riot on an Empty Street, and now his latest venture - The Whitest Boy Alive. In fact, it comes as something of a disappointment that the debut album from the Norwegian four-piece is simply entitled Dreams. He was obviously half asleep when he came up with that one… (ahem).

It is difficult, at first at least, not to judge TWBA’s work in the context of Øye’s other band, especially when his instantly recognisable lilting Scandinavian tones seep from the speakers like an old friend. The subject matter, too, remains consistent and the quotidian stories of a lonely boy’s loves and losses that defined Kings of Convenience are still very much in evidence. However, whereas the songs recorded with Eirik Glambek were generally of the gentle acoustic lullaby variety, this is, at the very least, a more grown-up sounding record.

The ten songs are all very much plugged in, but remain suitably laid-back and for the most part are left sparse and roomy. It is telling that TWBA started off as an ‘electronic’ project, because what is left is essentially an album of jazzy electronica without the electronica. The vast expanses within the songs on ‘Dreams’ are filled with meandering bass lines and guitar parts that verge from the easy listening to at times the downright funky (such as the snare-filled ‘Fireworks). The tracks are certainly not in a rush to go anywhere and at times this means they can drag on a little with extended instrumentals that go round in circles. Sometimes this works beautifully, like on the husky ‘Borders’ for example, but at one’s most cynical, the line “Giving me a reason to stay constantly ignored” in ‘Don’t Give Up’ can be a little close to home.

All in all, ‘Dreams’ is a very well put together album that works delightfully as a sedentary soundtrack to whatever else you might be doing at the time. The elongated musical structure also allows the quirky, witty lyrics to breathe, develop and grab more of the attention than you might expect and this often proves a highlight. There is little wrong with the album, but it is so laid-back it is difficult to see who (apart from fans of Kings of Convenience and Øye’s other enterprises) going to want to really get stuck into it and give it the repeat listens that it probably needs to be truly appreciated.

Oh, and listen out for the backing vocals that turn up half way through ‘Don’t Give Up’ that sound just like Jemaine from Flight of the Conchords has lent a helping hand in the studio.

***

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

Kap Bambino - Zero Life, Night Vision [Alt>Delete album]

Having soundtracked the infancy of ‘New Rave’ back in the dayglo summer of 2006, Alt Delete unleashes a salvo of electro-punk in the form of the debut long player from Bordeaux’s Kap Bambino. Big things often come in small packages and this duo, comprising Orion Bouvier (bleeps, blips and noise) and Caroline Martial (wailing banshee), manage to make one hell of a racket. The two do their darnedest to replicate on record their apparently incendiary live performances and the result is both pulsating and aggressive.

In this instance the ‘punk’ of their electro-punk comes not from guitars but from the same DIY ethos of early ‘New Rave’ and from the short bursts of furious energy that make up this album. Like the soundtrack to a dystopian world, ‘Zero Life, Night Vision’ is more (or less, depending on which way you look at it) than a collection of ‘songs’, in fact resembling a continual aural assault made up of 12 intense blitzkrieg attacks. Titles like ‘Kaoskillers’ and ‘More Machine’ hint at the band’s future-shock sound, which has a blueprint loosely thus: Bouvier’s bleepy synth sounds over fuzzy noise, with vocodered shrieking vocals courtesy of Martial.

With the origins of ‘New Rave’ buried under Mercury Prizes and Top Shop fashion it is refreshing to hear a band actually indulging in proper ‘old rave’ sounds and ‘Zero Life, Night Vision’ works from a formula that is instantly exciting thanks to its exhilarating aggression. After repeated listens, though, it can seem just that: formulaic.

First published in Notion magazine.

Supergrass - Diamond Hoo Ha Man [Parlophone single]

Along with fellow Oxfordians Radiohead, Supergrass are one of the few originators of Britpop to still be clinging on to much credibility – and it just so happens that they were one of the best. But somehow there is still the pervading sense that despite littering the charts with a succession of fantastic pop songs, Gaz et al have never quite surmounted the peaks that seemed within their reach.

In some ways, then, this White Stripes-flavoured bluesy rocker seems a fresh attempt to scythe through the repetitive and ever-multiplying chaff of current one-album, chart-bothering British indie (most of whom would sell their Lyle & Scott branded souls for a ‘Lenny’, ‘Caught by the Fuzz’ or ‘Mansize Rooster’). It does so, quite simply, by not sounding very British. The opening riff is almost identical to ‘Blue Orchid’, the slide guitar is reminiscent of a slightly slicker Gun Club and the integration of that most American of phrases “Bite me” adds to the all-round US garage rock feel of the track.

What is certainly true, though, is that after some 14 years Supergrass still know their way around a three and a half minute pop song. ‘Diamond Hoo Ha Man’ is another one that stands out on the radio, albeit thanks to a pretty straightforward Kings of Leon type formula: pounding drums, chunky guitars, aforementioned riff, speed up-slow down-speed up structure and some top-notch vocals.

It is a more than pleasant way to pass said 210 odd seconds and is nearly a very good return. But it just does sound a bit generic and lacks the Supergrass touch that (much like Super Furry Animals) normally makes their songs great. And it doesn’t help that it is actually ‘Blue Orchid’ that I have in my head long after listening to this track, rather than the work of the Hoo Ha Men. Still, decent enough, and an indication that there most probably is life in the old ‘grass yet.


***

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

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.

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.

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.