The Ripps - Holiday

The sun seems to be on its way and perhaps finally some semblance of summer is around the corner. It’s about time for some summery sunshine pop then: cue Coventry’s The Ripps with their take on this very thing – ‘Holiday’ – taken from debut album ‘Long Live The Ripps’.

Musically ‘Holiday’ takes its cue from Britpop, with ‘Parklife/Great Escape’-era Blur and ‘I Should Coco’-era Supergrass being the obvious influences. The slowed down middle 8 and backing vocals being particularly reminiscent of the former, while the organ recalls the latter’s ‘Going Out’. There are also hints of fellow Cov boys The Specials – even more noticeable on b-side ‘Wrontom 18-30 Version’ remix of the song – with a hint of a ska twist to their brand of pop rock.

‘Holiday’ starts off somewhat promisingly with a delicate run through of the chorus backed by some Beach Boys harmonies before it shifts a gear into a bouncy pop song. It loses its way rather in the verse part however, as ‘Country House’-esque vocals dominate. Lyrically it is typical post-‘Whatever People Say…’ British realism, providing a tongue-in-cheek examination of summer drinking. However, when so prominently on show, it becomes clear that The Ripps don’t have their own Alex Turner. Far from it. While there is no need for a summery hit to be knowing or clever necessarily, lyrics like ”Afternoon in Wetherspoons the story begins, a cheeky pint will always end in tears / Go on mate just one more shot, it won’t do you no harm / Go on then you’ve twisted my arm” are enough to send a shiver down your spine on the hottest of June days.

Dodgy lyrics aside there is certainly enough to enjoy about ‘Holiday’ to not dismiss it out of hand. The changes in tempo, likeable chorus and descent into Big Top madness towards the end are all enough to raise a smile. And for those of us old enough to remember Britpop the first time round, there’s a bit of nostalgia on offer too.

The best thing The Ripps have got going for them is a sense of fun, and, if the weather holds out, with this single their timing couldn’t be much better. Whether they will still be around come autumn is another matter.

***

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

Blonde Redhead - Silently

On first listen there doesn’t seem that much to ‘Silently’, the soothing daydream of a new single from the New York three-piece with a mixed up view of follicular colouring. But as with much of ‘23’, the album from which the song is lifted (Blonde Redhead’s eighth, but first for three years), it becomes apparent that actually there is considerable depth to it as delicate touches begin to reveal themselves to the listener.


A far cry from the band’s early Sonic Youth-influenced work, ‘Silently’ is a song with almost entirely smooth edges. Kazu Makino’s trademark shrill but silky vocals take centre stage, providing a smooth gloss finish on this a tale of unrequited love. Underneath is a mellow beat and a complementary concoction of guitars and keys that sound like they are being played through honey. Add in some layered, velvety backing vocals and electronic twists and the only hint of sharpness comes from the odd snatch of Simone Pace’s snare drum or hi hat.


The fact that the lyrics take the form of a rather clumsy nautical metaphor is effectively inconsequential as the vocals are merely one part of a laid back whole. It is so laid back though, that it does need some additional touches to add distinction. Luckily it has them, most notably in the form of the keyboard riff during the middle eight and the hint of eighties drums shortly afterwards, while the odd submarine-type noise is entirely apt.


Sounding somewhere between an updated and remixed version of The Supremes’ ‘Baby Love’ and a very polished My Bloody Valentine (perhaps unsurprising given the presence of Alan Moulder on mixing duties) it is a luxuriant song that combines its warm glow with Makino’s icy delivery. ‘Silently’ is a song that could easily pass you by, give it a chance though and you might well be glad you did. To be enjoyed alongside the Cardigans better moments or Blondie’s ‘Heart Of Glass’ and possibly with a glass of wine, it is a perfect song for the end of a long day.


***

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

Joe Strummer: The Future Is Unwritten – a reflection

So, a film review (of sorts) rather than a music review and not written for anyone else for a change but more to fulfil the need I have to put something down in writing about how profoundly affecting this film was for me…

It has been nearly five years since we lost the great Joe Strummer, a hero to me and countless others (not just music fans) who had been spellbound by not just his music but his passion, wit and insightfulness. Experienced punk film-maker and Sex Pistols collaborator Julien Temple of ‘The Filth And The Fury’ fame attempts to do the man justice with this much-needed and much-anticipated tribute.

Temple is lucky in some respects. The largely unheard (though according to a Strummer quote during the film some 40 million people listened to it) BBC World Service Show called 'London Calling' that Strummer presented in the 90s provides some vital material from Strummer’s later life, while also making up a kind of soundtrack to the film (especially satisfying since these were all songs handpicked by the man himself) and giving it a sense of cohesion. Rather than a documentary about a historical musical figure whose most important work took place 30 years ago, these intermittent bursts of Strummer soundbites give the film a vitality means that there is no need for a narrator and for much of the film it seems like the musician himself is the film-maker.

Temple takes the theme of the campfire, something key to the regeneration of Strummer in his private and musical life, as the central motif in the film. Throughout, family and friends old and new gather round campfires on both sides of the Atlantic to reminisce about the man they knew. This provides not only a useful film-making tool and the sense of community that Strummer’s life and the music of the Clash inspire, but also the flames and smoke that often threaten to overwhelm the shot offer a neat metaphor to the turmoil that he faced throughout his life – from his brother’s suicide, to the pressures of touring, to the break up of the Clash and his subsequent loss of self-confidence.

Add in some great old Clash interviews and footage and you have a formula that can’t really fail. Much of the punk period will be familiar ground for true Strummer fans, but Temple chooses not to dwell too long on this giving important insight into Strummer’s early years and life after the Clash – making up for any lack of footage available with a variety of animated segments. It is an interesting technique that at times can produce entertaining evocations of a part of his life, but at times they can seem a little too twee for a man as dynamic as his subject.

As any good biography or tribute should, ‘The Future Is Unwritten’ celebrates each facet of Strummer’s personality, most notably his passion for good causes, his fierce intelligence and his razor-sharp wit. There are funny moments throughout, for instance when asked what he wanted shown below his name, the answer “‘Punk rock warlord’. With ‘warlord’ as one word”
comes back in Strummers inimitable dry tones. Or the moment when a noticeably worse-for-wear Strummer asks an interviewer “Do you want to meet our manager?…He invented punk rock”: cue a camera pan to a mouth wide open, passed out Bernie Rhodes. It is not all plain sailing though, as Strummer's personal flaws are laid bare on several occasions to poignant effect. Described variously as a coward and at times not the best father, Temple wisely presents Strummer as the complex man he was instead of opting for mere one-dimensional hero-worship.

On the musical side we are reminded what an engaging performer, frontman and singer Strummer was, and perhaps even more, what an incredible lyricist he was. Equally the range of musicians who speak of the importance of the Clash to them, from Bono to Flea and beyond, goes some of the way to illuminating what an incredibly influential band The Clash were, are, and will remain to be for as long as people continue to make music. Perhaps a little strangely Temple chooses not to name the many contributors during the course of the film, which can leave the viewer sidetracked as they try desperately to remember that American actor’s name. However, it also reinforces the feeling that Strummer was a true man of the people, loved by the downtrodden and the Hollywood star alike and someone who would view them each as equals. His unshaking faith in humanity is always clear. Many of the contributors provide useful and intelligent insight, but speaking from the point of view of a Clash obsessive it's difficult to shake a feeling of annoyance at the apparent irrelevance some of the celebrities interviewed (again rarely is it explicitly stated how or why each person knew Strummer). And it is perhaps inappropriate that Jonny Depp's ridiculous plaited beard provoked the biggest laugh of the evening at the screening I attended.

While Temple is indeed lucky to have such a charismatic subject, an infinite list of people willing to talk about him and a wealth of resources, this remains a superbly made film that most importantly succeeds in the one thing it needs to: it pays tribute to a great man loved by millions. The feeling of tragedy that he was taken at the age of 50 actually ends up being replaced by the uplifting knowledge that this troubled soul that had spent 10 years in the wilderness both creatively and mentally, managed to be born again during his last years. It ends up, though almost heartbreakingly poignant, a true celebration of the man.

‘The Future Is Unwritten’ is both a powerfully moving and wonderfully enjoyable tribute to a singularly popular man. More than anything it lets us slip back into the world of a hugely influential musician – and just as importantly a great but troubled human being – for a few hours. And to anyone that is passionate about or interested in music, culture, society or just humanity itself, this time is absolutely priceless.

”And so now I’d like to say… people can change anything they want to. And that means everything in the world. People are running about and following their little tracks – I am one of them – but we’ve all got to stop just following our own little mouse trails. People can do anything. This is something I’m beginning to learn.

People are out there doing bad things to each other. It’s because they are being dehumanised. It’s time to take the humanity back into the centre of the ring and follow that for a time. Greed… it ain’t going anywhere. They should have that on a big billboard in Time Square.

Without people you’re nothing.

That’s my spiel.”

Joe Strummer 1952-2002

Stephanie Dosen - A Lily For The Spectre

Stephanie Dosen’s debut album ‘A Lily For The Spectre’ is attention-grabbing for several reasons. Firstly it is released on notable label Bella Union, secondly it features Bella Union founder and ex-Cocteau Twins member Simon Raymonde on bass and thirdly Dosen was raised on a peacock farm in Wisconsin. The latter has absolutely nothing to do with the music or this review per say, but it certainly grabbed my attention.


A title like ‘A Lily For The Spectre’ hints that this might not be the cheeriest of albums and a quick glance through the song titles seems to confirm this. Despite the occasional suggestion of positivity in titles such as ‘This Joy’ and ‘Only Getting Better’, the majority hint at darker themes: ‘Owl In The Dark’, Death & The Maiden’ and the title track to name but three. And sure enough, this turns out to be a largely morose album. It can, of course, be dangerous to judge a book by its cover, but one would be wise to with ‘A Lily For A Spectre’. Accompanied for the most part by melancholic keys or piano and fingerpicked or strummed acoustic guitar, Dosen glides her way through 11 quietly powerful tracks that focus on spectral themes.


Opener ‘This Joy’ is not as positive as it first seemed, as it turns out that “This joy will fade inside” and the acoustic guitar is supplemented by plaintive strings and keyboard chords to emphasise the downbeat nature of the lyrics. This mould is one that Dosen sticks to throughout the course of the album, focusing her efforts on delivery without much in the way of experimentation. There are little tweaks here and there that rise above the singing and mellow instrumentation, such as the breathy backing vocals on ‘Death And The Maiden’ or the violin on ‘Owl In The Dark’, but she largely keeps things simple and effective.


Clearly Dosen’s main strength is her evocative voice and it dominates the album, with many long, held notes and often layered over itself (see particularly the aptly titled ‘Like A Dream’). Combining fragility with depth, it is excellent throughout and perfectly complements her almost child-like songwriting, typified by ‘Vinalhaven Harbor’: “When I was young I had a dark heart inside of me…Now I go to the dark playground where I can’t let go”. She hits vocal highs on the uncharacteristically upbeat ‘Only Getting Better’ with its glorious “It’s all so beautiful” refrain, but equally her singing is at its most poignant when it is delicately fragile, such as on ‘Like A Dream’ or ‘Way Out’.


‘A Lily...’ is at its heart a collection of dream-like songs that feel like they should be animated by Tim Burton. It is certainly not traditional girl-meets-boy fare with its ethereal atmosphere and ghostly lyrics (“You had a vampire grin… and you hold back like a tear”) and would work well as the soundtrack to something like Burton’s ‘Corpse Bride’. It’s beautifully sung, heartfelt and polished at the same time with songs that are at times bewitching and always a pleasant listen and perfectly arranged. In the end, though, this proves to be its downfall too. One gets lost in it as each song melts into the other, but, equally, one gets lost in it as each song melts into the other. Unless you really concentrate on the quirky lyrical twists there is little that stands out or pricks up the ears, little that marks it out as anything truly special. It’s a lovely album. In fact it’s just that – ‘lovely’ – something it both benefits and suffers from

***

First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.

The Heights - Live At The Purple Turtle, Camden 21.5.07

Tonight North Wales via North London’s The Heights play at Camden’s Purple Turtle – North London’s own ‘classic’ rock venue – for a Classic Rock Magazine night. After the political, Rage Against The Machine tinged hardcore of Montreal’s Grimskunk and the intermittent hard rock soundtrack that forms the rest of the night, those new to The Heights would be forgiven for being slightly anxious as to the nature of the headlining four piece.

Thankfully, I have done my homework on The Heights or I may well have been persuaded to leave before they finally make it on stage at around 11.15. There is, though, for the first time in the evening, a genuine air of excitement when they do take the stage and launch into an explosive opening to their set. Hard rock they are not, but neither are they in any way a lightweight band, mixing forceful riffs with an indie sensibility that extends from the guitarist’s skinny jeans to the infectious choruses. The first three tracks are filled with power and energy, culminating with the excellent ‘Night Relay’ – during which all of a sudden the long wait seems worthwhile.

After such an incendiary introduction, The Heights do lose their way a bit in the middle, and unfortunately Owain Ginsberg’s usually impressive rasping vocals are a little drowned out on previous single ‘Blackberry Nights’, but the band more than makes up for it with the cracking ‘For Real’. With its driving guitar and chorus it is a definite set highlight and is in more ways than one a ‘classic’ rock song. It’s also The Heights’ new single, and you get the impression that with a track like this things might really snowball for them. On the evidence of this show they certainly seem to have enough tunes. After the triumph of ‘For Real’, they tear through the rest of the set, leaving the invigorated crowd wanting more after their all too brief set.

As a band and a live act The Heights stick to several pretty important principles. In performance they bounce around like they are really enjoying themselves and give the show everything they’ve got, transferring the on-stage energy and enthusiasm to the crowd. They don’t say much between songs, save for introducing the odd one, keeping an air of cool distance between them and the audience and putting all their energy into the show – a show that is tight enough to impress but just loose enough to look like fun. And most importantly, they have some really good songs.

Sadly, despite the lateness of the hour, The Heights play to a less than half full Purple Turtle tonight. It can often be difficult to judge what kind of an impact a band will have on the desired heaving, sweaty throng when they are playing to a half-filled dingy room, but from the way they get the few assembled punters moving and the energy on stage hints that in more auspicious circumstances they would revel in a packed venue.

The Heights are not leading the vanguard of progression in British music, but why the hell should they? They know what they’re good at and I’m certainly not arguing with them.


First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.