1990s - Kicks (Rough Trade 2009)

1990s second album is a humdrum affair, similarily pitched throughout and unremarkably strident in its journey towards off-kilter power pop. Featuring a new bassist and a duet with ex-Long Blondes helmer, Kate Jackson, this is a sugary treatise on hope and blind optimism, quite content throughout and never really engaging with you on an emotional level. Opener ‘Vondelpark’ is nice enough with a rousing sustained guitar and more yelpy vocals, that hark back to previous material. Melodic and soaring, it gets proceedings off to a good start. Off-kilter wonky pop with some nice Futureheads-esque vocal breakdowns. ‘I Don’t Even Know What That Is’ is like White Denim covering Beach Boys with its sugary harmonies and plundering gonzo guitar spikes jamming all over the mix. ‘Kickstrasse’ is an ode to Beider-Meinhof and features Kate Jackson, as they sing about capitalism’s inevitable implosion.

The spiky guitars and bang-bang drums drive the songs in a fun and enjoyable, accessible way. The problem lies in its unremarkable delivery and execution. Not much of note happens and not much engages with you in a perfectly pleasant way, just like Mark in Peep Show having ‘a perfectly nice time while you’re all off your faces on drugs’. Humdrum but lovely and listenable. ‘Local Science’ is slower and more poignant with cellos and strings while ‘Giddy Up’ is quite Adam Ant in places. This is like a tribute to the 80s. Certainly not placed in the 1990s I remember. Get your rocks off in a perfectly nice way while everyone else is rocking out to Micachu this summer.

myspazz

The Virgins - The Virgins (Atlantic 2009)

The Virgins’ debut album arrives on a wave of buzz stuck to the bottom of a desk with revoltingly second hand bubblegum (see the front cover). They’re pitched as a poppy 80s-ish Strokes and their new album mentions ‘cocaine brunches’ in the first 30 seconds, meaning they are officially dangerous and not teenagers playing pop punk games with their local vintage shop and Converse sellers. The lyrics about wealthy girls, scandalous love affairs and late night parties soon tire as the inevitable rot of being more driven towards scene-straddling than playing sets in and we wonder if this band was invented for Gossip Girl watchers. The 80s dance energy and sharp guitars and the weird 80s basslines all allude to the 80s club circuit in New York, but summarily, highlighting the emptiness that lay within by standing for precisely nothing other than commenting on coked up girls blowing boys tee hee and rugged t-shirts hoo-haa and dancing all night oh me oh my... the danger, the anger, the horror the horror.

This is supposed to be comment on the rich not an aspiration to walk amongst them as equals, which is precisely where this music falls. ‘She’s Expensive’ ‘Rich Girls’ and the shoulda-been-an-Ibiza-anthem-guitar-led ‘Private Affair’ lay down the conceit that New York is a jungle (heard it), rich girls there like drugs, boys, hedonism and nothing else (heard it), rich people can be mean, empty and self-obsessed (heard it) and wow, look at all these parties I’m not invited to (not interested). The earnest delivery of the lyrics, the lack of subtlety, the lack of metaphor and the lack of care when choosing its targets make for an insipid and creepy foray into 80s power punk pop by numbers... ending with the mysterious and deep ‘Love is Colder Than Death’- like, woah, deep. So yeah, if you’re as empty as these rich girls, if you’re a teen lover with no interest for the little things, the little details... if you like rehashed zeitgeist 80s pop punk by numbers, get this and play it for 6 months till the next buzz comes along. In the meantime, spend your money on an album that’s out this month too and will destroy all the same targets, and properly, like a monolith of RAWK (I’m talking about ‘It’s Blitz’ by Yeah Yeah Yeahs). The Virgins... insert your own joke about whatever you want here, I’ve struggled to write this much about this latest ‘buzz band.’

Myspazzzz

Jeffrey Lewis and the Junkyard - 'Em Are I (Rough Trade 2009)

In Jeffrey Lewis’ strive to document the extensive parameters of his imagination, he leaves nothing to the imagination. Each private misery and pained emotion is documented in his work, from sexual inadequacy ‘East River’ to artistic integrity ‘Williamsburg Will Oldham Horror’. Through 5 albums of sparkling wit and lo-fi invention he has delivered a solid simple set of songs that are infinitely hummable and no less tuneful for his cracked overwrought lo-fi voice. And new album, ‘Em Are I’ is no exception, with its 12 ebullient songs about everything you ever want to know about life. Jeffrey Lewis is adept at finding the bigger picture in the smaller minutiae. Through his cultural references, confessional narratives and lyrics for invented science fiction shows, he is able to make claims to a higher knowledge and a wider field of view. And with his comics ploughing a similar field, the brush strokes reveal hidden details in his meticulously curated life. Look, make no mistake about his, I am one his hugest fans and music reviews just don’t to say this obvious or the earnest anymore, so let me just say at this point, this is easily going to be one of my favourite albums of the year. It’ll duke it out with Micachu later, but in the meantime, ‘Em Are I’ doesn’t stray too far from the formula, but it does give you exactly what you need in spades.

‘Slogans’ blasts this materialistic world of ours, riffing on No Logo’s tirade against brands, this time the effect is more holistic and Lewis is trying to find himself within these constant slews of information, lost in communication breakdowns. ‘Roll Bus Roll’ is a delicate banjo-tinged paean to the life of a travelling musician that sashays with the pull and tow of the bus. ‘If Life Exists’ is an elegant description of searching for true happiness and finding it in the simplest of things, like never getting bored ‘when you find the right two chords.’ The way he describes an increasing list of girlfriends still not making happy is a pivotal Lewis lyric, truly understanding the core of human failure and misery and allowing his description of it to be simple, never overwrought and constantly melancholy. ‘Broken Broken Broken Heart’ is a cracked pop song, uptempo and sad-tempo, with handclaps and a melodious chorus that bursts out of your chest with positivity despite its inherent sadness.

‘To Be Objectified’ takes a simple subject- going bald- and deconstructs it till it becomes about the vain futility of man’s obsession with his appearance despite its lack of importance. The sound effects in the intros create a panoramic view of the places these songs could have been written. And here as the sea roars, Jeff discusses ‘the manliest thing he’ll ever do...’ (going bald) and hopes that he’ll still be attractive. ‘Bugs and Flowers’ is a hippytastic theme tune for a cartoon that hasn’t been made yet, a tinge of sadness as Jeff walks endlessly finding the beauty at the core of humanity, but ultimately feeling loss in his core. ‘It’s Not Impossible’ is a simple melodic-driven lo-fi ebb and flow of travels and world-weariness sleep and hope. The politics of the Crass covers has subtly imparted itself on his palette. Finally, the brilliant and wry pastiche of science fiction ’Mini Theme: Moocher from the Future’ alludes to the best science fiction series ever with its scatological references to themes and events and a back story, and a strong narrative of mirth-inducing hilarity. With her ‘metal front and plastic back’ she messes around with King Saturn, travels through time, destroying her own present with her incursions into her past and future.

The sadness and wryness on these album are completely in tune with the lo-fi antifolk stylings of Lewis and his Junkyard band, all adding subtle touches to the enigmatic voice in their centre. The sound effects and sampled moments all add to the simple DIY sound. This is one of the albums of the year from one of the best lyricists in the world today.

Website

P.O.S. - 'Drumroll' video

Freebie Lucre

After a great gig with Luke Wright, Ross Sutherland, Poeticat and Salena Saliva Gloopy Goddamn Godbless Godden, it was back to London to blog, write my secret book and plan a wedding. It's incredible and incredibly dull, simultaneously, how much time and effort goes into planning one day. It makes me cry. From Friday 7.45pm till Sunday 10pm we talked about it, seemingly non-stop, so much so that I was too housebound to check out my bezzie mate, Mr Lingo's Bass in your Face Bristol rave-scene screamo bass-ment rumblefest. It's taken over my life. The thing we're struggling with as a couple is: on one hand, it's the happiest day in your life- on the other, it's one day in your life. If we worked out how many hours our 00s of pounds was paying for, the ratio would sicken me. Isn't there a recession on? So, we decided to speak to a friend of mine who writes for a wedding magazine. Did he want to cover a multicultural melting pot wedding? A mixture of top hats and sarees, fascinators and turbans? We were the mixed race dream and surely a dream feature ticket? He said fine, so I've been going round offering press coverage in this niche wedding magazine for discounts and freebies.

And I've met with a resounding 'big who cares'. It's not that the coverage in a niche Asian wedding magazine is anything to sniff at. Oh no, that's perfectly fine. It's just they seem to be suffering the same recession as me, and despite everything wedding related being marked up an extra 40%, no one is stupid enough to be having a wedding this year. Right? Wrong, we seem to be doing it. Though, at the rate it's infiltrating all our conversations, who knows where we'll end up.

Things I like:

Jeffrey Lewis and the Junkyard's new 'Em Are I' album
Dollhouse and Eliza Dushku
The Corner by David Simon and Ed Burns
Scott Pilgrim
Spotify
@azizansari 's bonkers tweets

The Black Box Revelation - Set Your Head on Fire (T for Tunes 2009)

I may have said this before but Jack White has a lot to answer for. Talent like yours Jack should be harnessed for the greater good. That garage punk lo-fi sensibility he had that became the central conceit of the White Stripes, that one guitar and one drumkit attitude, that punka DIY mentality. So enter Black Box Revelation. Admittedly, they’ve been knocking about for a while with their one guitar one drumkit squawl of noise and blues-rock thrashing. The fuzz pedals are on; the distortion is static-y; the drumming forearms are like Popeye’s, bulbous lobster limbs. So yes, Belgian rock group Black Box Revelation, hello.

We reviewed their EP a few months ago and while the musicianship was pretty damn impressive, felt that it was ultimately unstructured jamming, no hint of songs and sometimes excluding the audience from the navel-gazing. ‘I Think I Like You’ is a storming opener, all bluster and pomp, firmly straddling the noodling punk blues horse with a large cock and massive cojones. By the time ‘Gravity Blues’ arrives you realise that there’s no point listening to the ridiculous lyrics, they’re filler, just a vocal noise to pad out the songs before they hit noodle-solo. ‘Stand Your Ground’ features the immortal advice ‘I got to beat this to see this through.’ Soundbites and snapshots of vaguely political rhetoric are crooner before the guitars get to do their noisy bit. There are two moods to the album, waiting for the chorus and the chorus which involves some admittedly impressive thrashing of the ol axe. It’s kinda empty and boring and never really drawns you in. The vaguely political utterances distract too much. The desperation to sound LOUD and BIG and THRASHING grates after a bit. Jack White, I lay this noodling boredom firmly at your door sir.

Myspazz

Metric - Fantasies (Metric Music International 2009)

Canadian pop quartet Metric are back with a new album that flits between large pop and small tinges of punk. Big choruses dance around vulnerable verses. Metallic drums and thistle guitars push ‘Help I’m Alive’ the lead single and album opener forward in a soaring direction, well upwards in a soaring direction. In 2005, Metric knocked the world for six with the one-two punch of their anthemic single “Monster Hospital” (with its ubiquitous “I fought the war/ and the war won” catchcry) and their critically acclaimed album “Live It Out”. This album is more of the same, ploughing that ethereal and poignant punk pop field that made their name in the first place. ‘Gold Guns and Girls’ seems to be a riposte against the limitations of man with its uptempo skittering drums and synth swells. Lead singer Emily Haines is a decent enough front woman, managing to sound lost and vulnerable but with a degree of power and control at the same time, which despite the contrasting emotions, gives her this position of being able to mould songs into two distinct moods. The workman-like musicianship of the rest of the band provide a backing that is both electronic synths, spiky punky guitars and a mash-up between live and programmed drums that gives them an extra depth. Occasionally, there is a stray into too emo-pop styling, ‘Satellite Mind’ but they manage to pull it back with their quieter more trip-hoppy numbers like ‘Blindness’ and the riot grrl electronics of ‘Front Row’. This is a good album that occasionally strays into forgettably listenable, which is a shame because the talents on display and that have been witnessed in the past could definitely have produced something with a little bit more verve and electricity, however seem to have settled for a sound that emotes well in pivotal scenes in One Tree Hill-a-like shows. Workmanlike and listenable and good but underwhelming on repeated listens.

Metric

Where the Wild Things Are trailer

free track from Mr Fogg

Here's a new track by Mr Fogg an unsigned electronic artist from just outside London who sits in the same creative pool of melodic electronic as Postal Service. More here.

Brian Chikwava - Harare North (Jonathan Cape 2009)

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