Category Archives: alternative

THE PAINS OF BEING PURE AT HEART – Belong

Posted on by

POBThe Pains of Being Pure at Heart’s self-titled debut was an album that got better over time; one of those discs that really takes hold unexpectedly.  A nostalgic affair, its core influences recalled the greatness of the mid 90s. It’s understandable, therefore that it could be suspected  their sophomore album would be a weaker effort having been put together in a fraction of the time.

The opening bars of the title track sweep away any misgivings, as Flood’s lavish production brings out the absolute best in the New York quintet’s sound. The drums have great presence, even once they find a space behind Kip Berman’s guitars (which appear in both crisp and fuzzy forms) and the bass sound that tips the hat to Simon Gallup of The Cure with its rattling nature. Berman’s voice is surprisingly wistful considering the full sound the band has adopted, but it’s the music which does all the talking here. With the opening number combining most of PoBPaH’s strongest features, it’s surprising the album doesn’t fall at the next hurdle. ‘Heaven’s Gonna Happen Now’ has moments which lean farther towards 90s jangle; its lead guitar riffs are simple and yet so effective. While Berman sticks to his usual aloof vocal approach, the music has a toughness which, in places, wouldn’t have sounded too out of place on either Buffalo Tom’s 1992 breakthrough album ‘Let Me Come Over’ or Teenage Fanclub’s ‘Bandwagonesque’.

The mechanical bass at the heart of ‘Heart In Your Heartbreak’ recalls the best sounds from the band’s debut. With the hushed vocals of Kip Berman and Peggy Wang melding together on its chorus, the feeling is one of familiarity. It feels a little throwaway after the weightiness of the opening pair of tracks, but clearly highlights how, for all of their multi-layered tendencies elsewhere, this is a band that possesses a knack for a good pop hook. For fans of the spikier elements of the debut, ‘The Girl of 1,000 Dreams’ should appeal, driven by Kurt Feldman’s hard drumming, overlaid by a wall of fuzzy guitars; as with a couple of their debut’s tracks, this has a musical edge which hints at the softer end of the 90s shoegaze movement.

‘The Body’ sounds rather like a New Order cast off from the mid 90s. While Berman doesn’t sound especially like Bernard Sumner, there’s a definite influence in the way the track has been constructed around a layer of keys, upfront bass and quirky drumming. The chorus here isn’t as strong as perhaps it could have been, but the other elements are top notch – and with the band’s delivery sounding so easy, it still ranks as one of the best numbers. The band aren’t above borrowing from other 80s alternative stuff either, as the upbeat approach of ‘My Terrible Friend’, recalls The Cure circa 1985-87 with its cheeky keyboard riff combined with jangly guitars (backed by a busy acoustic line). That’s as far as any similarities go, mind, since Berman’s breathy vocal keeps things really light and chipper. While it’s Wang’s keyboard line which lodges inside your head, Alex Nadius’s busy but uncomplicated bass work isn’t without merit here.

While its rhythm maintains a steady pace, with an almost unflinching mechanical vibe, ‘Strange’ closes the disc with something oddly beautiful. A track which recalls lots of alternative music from the early 90s, the way Wang’s keyboard layers shine through the multi-tracked guitars is just superb. Berman’s vocal is almost redundant; the multilayered sounds work in such an effective way they almost completely absorb the listener.

With ‘Belong’, Berman and co have delivered a release which is stronger than their debut and one which makes the art of the “difficult second album” seem so easy. The band sound confident throughout, and while their song writing hasn’t moved on a great deal, their arrangements have a smoothness which wasn’t always consistent before. Sounding stronger with every play, this is an album for iPods on long journeys – an album to take with you to bring a spark to crowded places. The Pains of Being Pure at Heart have matured as a band – and it shows.

March 2011

FOE – Hot New Trash EP

Posted on by

FOEtrashWhy is it that every time a female artist with alternative leanings begins a career, they’re never accepted as just being themselves? It seems the knee-jerk reaction is to liken the artist in question to either PJ Harvey or Kate Bush. Foe (aka Hannah Clark) has been likened to both – but in reality, has little to nothing in common with either. It’s hugely unlikely you’d find Harvey or Bush delivering anything quite as rocky as the music offered by Foe, and you certainly wouldn’t find either of them donning a luridly coloured wig willy-nilly.

It would be so easy to dismiss Foe as a novelty, but once you get past her penchant for wearing day-glo headgear and oh-so-deliberate kookiness, her debut EP ‘Hot New Trash’ has a definite charm. If you’ve not given up after the first track, chances are you’ll enjoy Foe’s trash-filled musical aesthetic.

That opening number, the rather short ‘Ape Song’, is based around a waltz time signature played on a harmonium, creating the kind of carnival atmosphere which might please Kurt Weill and Tom Waits. Foe’s vocals are strong, but not especially user-friendly with their slightly sneering nature. The track falls apart fairly quickly, descending into ugly electronic drones and backward loops. ‘Tyrant Song’ combines a hard edged electronic punch with a fuzzy guitar riff, over which Foe’s slightly distorted voice works excellently. Where there should be a chorus, she spits “are you ready for the next big thing / are you ready for a clown in a g-string”. It just about passes as a hook; but the mood of the track seems more important than its sing-along qualities. If you like chunky riffs overlaid by electronica, this is a number should hit the mark. Even the jarring keyboard lines don’t interfere with the solid grooves.

‘Genie In a Coke Can’ is much slower and a fair bit darker, with its brooding riff clashing with electronica in a way which recalls the best work by cult 90s artists Snake River Conspiracy and Jane Jensen. The lyrics are full of anti-media messages and spite directed at record companies who spend “millions in marketing for pop star trash”. Once again, the ugly keyboards play against the mid-paced rock elements in a way that sets out to unnerve, but there’s enough bottom end and fuzz here give the track a proper edge. ‘Merry Go Down’ features a heavy use of keyboards, overlaid with upfront bass. Foe’s vocals avoid being twee by being slightly distorted via some studio trickery, but while her voice is loud in the end mix, it’s the instrumental arrangement which provides the greatest strength. The harmonium, combined with very measured drumming and retro guitar twang lends a slightly unsettling atmosphere; the kind of twisted spookiness you should expect from someone who claims that Oompa Loompas often invaded her bedroom at night via hallucinations.

‘Hot New Trash’ presents the sound of a raw talent refusing to be moulded and pigeon-holed by her record company. While it starts out on shaky ground by trying slightly too hard, by the mid-point, Foe’s mix of alternative pop, ugly electronica and chunky rock becomes more than endearing. Forget what you may have been told: she isn’t PJ Harvey, Kate Bush or any other female singer-songwriter you care to lazily pin on her; she’s just Foe – making her own music, and even better, she’s doing it on her own terms.

April 2011

FANTAZZMO – Fantazzmo 1: Enter The Fantazz

Posted on by

Photobucket

“Do you remember a time when music had the power to set your soul free?” asks the opening line of this album’s press release. With such a bold opening statement, I found myself thinking of those life-changing albums – whether they be ‘Revolver’ by The Beatles, ‘Ritual De Lo Habitual’ by Jane’s Addiction or the many other groundbreaking, genre-bending, brilliantly inventive pieces of plastic which have spent time on our collective stereos.  Fantazzmo is the brainchild of Sergio Bedolla (one time member of Anima) and this debut release ‘Enter The Fantazz’ pulls together nearly every musical influence he can muster. Rather than sounding like an eclectic mix of songs, it ends up being a journey into self-congratulatory pointlessness.  Judging by the tone of the press release, that shouldn’t have been a great surprise.

This is one of those records you could (and probably) give up as a bad job after the awful first track, but a morbid curiosity ensures you might feel a duty to find out how else your “soul was about to be set free”… That rather hideous opening number contains various explicit remarks about Sergio Bedolla’s bedroom antics. It’s so vulgar and devoid of humour, listeners need to be warned that it may cause vomiting. Musically, it’s a dreadful waste of a crunchy guitar riff. …And to make matters worse, it’s called ‘Superman’. If there were a prize for biggest ego, this guy would be in the running. Unbelievably, this blatantly offensive three-minuter was chosen for release as a single!

‘I Know You’re Mine’ – a rock number which also brings elements of power pop and funk – sounds much better (but then very little could have been worse). There’s no real hook here to speak of, but – glossing over a rather ugly guitar solo – it works quite well. ‘Souls On Ice’ is a mixed bag. This slice of early 90s funk metal takes its cue from the hugely underrated Mind Funk (at least musically, but compared to Mind Funk’s debut, this is a little ham-fisted). Here you’ll find a hard rock riff leaning towards an old-school groove topped off with wah-wah driven solos. Lyrically, though, it’s another very poor show, being another outlet for Bedolla’s unpleasant, misogynistic, violently aggressive sexual hang ups. The core of ‘She Really Likes It’ (subtle, huh?) steals rather blatantly from The White Stripes’ ‘Seven Nation Army’, as a fuzzy guitar churns out notes against an almost singular pounding drum. The bridge sections are a bit fuller sounding with a seventies rock vibe. Another ugly guitar solo borders on self-indulgence. Factor in a half-arsed vocal where Bedello delivers lines about how great he is in bed and how his girlfriend likes it rough, and the experience goes from unoriginal to rather nasty. However, that’s not as bad as ‘We Are Waiting For You’ which taps into spooky psychedelia, utilising horribly out of tune vocals and painful levels of musical meandering. I’ve no idea what he was thinking…

‘Drown Your Lies’ combines summer grooves and pop reggae in a style which sounds a lot like 311. Bedolla even manages to turn in a vocal which doesn’t decent into shouting or go off-key – and without any self-aggrandizing lyrics, this is the album’s best number hands down. ‘Always Something’ offers something equally subtle by Fantazzmo’s standards. The vocals are multi-tracked and soft. Musically there’s a hint of latter day Red Hot Chili Peppers (ie: bland and radio friendly), a couple of reggae breaks and a tone which also reminds me of 311 playing a Santana tune. This track features some great ideas, but has no real coherency. Being another of the better numbers, though, I’m thinking Bedolla ought to have explored his 311 influences further. ‘Fear In Me’ at first sounds like it’s also going a for a summery, mellow vibe in places, but any hope of it being a chilled-out classic is spoilt by Bedolla’s out of tune vocal which drifts into pointless slurring. Also, the rockier sections of the song are full of lyrics about how hard he is, how he carries a knife and how we ought to fear him. Oh, Christ – let’s hope he’s joking, otherwise this is rather sad. Actually, scratch that – even if he is joking, it’s still very, very unfortunate. The Fantazzmo experience finishes with a short acoustic instrumental piece which contains some odd musical phrases and isn’t that tuneful. It sounds like it ought to be on a Buckethead record, but frankly, saying that just gives it far too much credit.

Exactly whom does Bedolla thinks this album is going to appeal to, other than himself? He’s clearly convinced of its brilliance, but generally, listening to it leaves both a feeling of confusion and disgust listening to it. It’d be great to think this was designed as a comedy record or somehow tongue-in-cheek, but it’s unclear whether it was. There are a couple of okay moments, but on the whole, having music set your soul free rarely felt so torturous.

November 2010

RADIOHEAD – The King Of Limbs

Posted on by

king

Radiohead’s debut ‘Pablo Honey’ threw the band into the public consciousness thanks to hit single ‘Creep’ (a track that’s long since worn out it’s welcome thanks to many cover versions), but overall, the album was patchy. When their second album ‘The Bends’ was released in 1995, the sense of growth was obvious. Every song featured was incredibly strong and Thom Yorke’s song writing showed an increasing maturity. Its 1997 follow-up ‘OK Computer’ was a brave release, which resenbled little of the band from previously, encompassing a far more cinematic style, bringing elements of progressive rock into the mix. This was most notable during the closing moments of ‘Exit Music For a Film’, which brazenly ripped off paid homage to Pink Floyd’s ‘Saucerful of Secrets’ (particularly the version from Floyd’s ‘Live at Pompeii’ movie’). Here was a band three albums into their career, and they were musically already a world away from their debut. [At this point, while NME were still praising Radiohead for being the greatest alternative rock band in the world, it was more obvious that this was the work of a band who’d spent their teenage years soaking up influence from 70s prog bands.]

They returned a couple of years later with ‘Kid A’, an album which seemed to polarise fans. Radiohead’s experimentation pushed itself to new levels over the course of the albums that followed. Some embraced the experimental turn their work had taken, while some were turned off, yet rather surprisingly, the band retained a huge fan base – and still appeared to be winning new converts.

Their eighth studio album arrived ahead of the planned release date as a downloadable release, on the 18th February 2011, to what appeared to be unanimous praise, though at times, it’s hard to work out why. For the first five of the eight featured numbers, Radiohead present a collection of soundscapes, beats and loops – and very little in the way of real songs.

A few bars into the opening number ‘Bloom’, it becomes obvious that ‘The King of Limbs’ can be another wilfully difficult release. Busy drum loops relentlessly drive what is essentially an electronic piece, almost lacking any tune. The drum loops are punctuated by an electronic parping noise until the arrival of Tom Yorke’s vocal line. He wails sporadically, his voice almost used as extra instrumentation, as opposed to singing in the conventional sense. The bass sound which creeps in now and again sounds rather good through a pair of 1970s speakers, but there’s not much to enjoy here. Imagine a beefed up electronica version of Tim Buckley’s ‘Starsailor’ but without any of the talent and you’d have a fair idea of what to expect. Striking, it may be, but for most people looking for a tune, its abstract nature probably won’t inspire further listening.

‘Morning Mr Magpie’ is a little softer on the ears, with the drum loop reduced to a rather pleasing hi-hat sound, while the rhythm guitar part shows a minimalistic brilliance with its staccato patterns. Colin Greenwood’s bass pattern has a danceable quality in places, helping to give the mechanical feel of the number some warmth. Even Yorke’s performance hints at Radiohead of old – breathy and passionate (while still an acquired taste). If you’re still looking for an actual song with an actual hook though, you may as well forget it. ‘Little By Little’ continues in a softer mood, but here, Yorke’s voice moves from breathy and passionate, into realms of tuneless and whiny – almost breaking completely in places. The guitar work adopts an enjoyable soft twang, but that’s about the only enjoyable element here. After a few minutes, the sounds of the drum loop and Yorke’s vocal become nothing more than an irritation.

‘Feral’ takes the drum sounds into darker territory, as Phil Selway offers a pattern which resembles another dance loop, over which there’s an odd sounding keyboard punctuating the rhythms. During the second half of the track, there’s a bass sound with a real presence which occasionally hints at 90s ambient dance. But despite a couple of good elements, this number doesn’t particularly work as a whole. Selway’s busy drum rhythms are bothered throughout by keyboard sounds and Thom Yorke, whose vocal drifts in and out, eventually becoming an irksome noise. The bass sound makes a return for ‘Lotus Flower’, which in places, has a pleasing tune – again very much driven by the rhythm section. Greenwood’s playing is laid back – almost sounding like it could have been a bass sample – and even the electronic and keyboard parts of the number present themselves in an unthreatening manner. Such a pity that Yorke has chosen to sing in falsetto throughout – without that, it could have possibly been worth listening to.

The last three numbers present a surprising turnaround of fortunes. In a nod to the past, ‘Give Up The Ghost’ is a sparse haunting number led by acoustic guitar. With minimal percussion and a few electric guitars sounding a little like theramins, Yorke takes place front and centre, delivering a ‘Fake Plastic Trees’ style lament. As a Radiohead fan of old, I very much welcome the presence of such an accessible number (one which could have easily been an ‘OK Computer b-side). As the track pulls to a close, Colin Greenwood’s bass rumbles in a lead fashion and then everything fades out (no pun intended) leaving me wanting more. Similarly, the gentleness of ‘Codex’ has more in common with Radiohead’s history than most of ‘The King of Limbs’. A simple, yet cinematic piano line provides the basis for a heartfelt vocal; Yorke in strong voice (perhaps his strongest this time around). The voice and pinao are joined in places by a dark horn sound and a few strings, to create something almost beautiful. It’s almost as if ‘Codex’ and ‘Give Up The Ghost’ are a reward for old Radiohead fans who haven’t given up on the album by this point.

Closing the album, the Massive Attack/Zero 7 inspired ‘Separator’ utilises yet another great drum part from Selway, accompanied by one of Greenwood’s more interesting bass riffs. It’s busy, again with a slight hint of dance, this time with a little funk thrown in for good measure. Midway, a very clean-toned guitar adds an almost sunny accompaniment – and from that point, the track builds to it’s climax. Yorke’s vocals are reverbed and could, once again, be best described as additional music, since it’s very hard to pick out any of the lyrics (aside from a brief refrain of ‘wake me up’ which creeps in at the end). Arguably one of the best tunes ‘The King of Limbs’ has to offer, it makes me wish the disc hadn’t stopped there (despite disliking most of what came previously). How different the album may have been, if only Radiohead could have tapped into their trip-hop qualities earlier…

While it’s necessary to appreciate bands move on and experiment (and in some cases change their sound almost completely), it’s almost remarkable how Radiohead have managed to retain such a huge following by releasing such challenging music as they have from 1997 onward. Over the years, there have been other artists performing music with equally interesting results which have barely had a look in by comparison. ‘The King of Limbs’ as a whole may be more experimental than anything Radiohead have attempted before, but it’s first half is almost devoid of songs. A couple of numbers are even devoid of tunes. Thankfully, the second half is more accessible, but still doesn’t grab the listener in the same way the band’s best was once easily capable. They won’t care, of course. Those who enjoy Radiohead’s wanton electronic experiements will praise this album to the hilt – as for the older fans…at least ‘The Bends’ can thankfully be revisited time and again without it’s brilliance ever waning.

March 2011

YUCK – Yuck

Posted on by

YUCK

Yuck doesn’t seem to be the best choice of band name, but it is one which suits their ugly sleeve art, depicting a cartoon of an ugly man, possibly about to throw up. As far as album covers go, it’s hard to know what they were thinking when they chose it, but it certainly makes an impression. Of this multi-national band (comprising of British, American and Japanese musicians), two members, Daniel Blumberg and Max Bloom have previously been members of little known alt-rock outfit Cajun Dance Party. Yuck’s core sound presents somewhat of a departure for them, largely trading in the feel-good, bouncy indie-rock of that band for something less subtle; this work often presenting itself in the style of Dinosaur Jr and Sonic Youth.

The UK newspaper The Guardian claimed that “to say [Yuck’s] debut sounded like it was recorded in a shed is probably a diss on the acoustic qualities of garden-based storage units”. They think they’re being clever, but to say that this sounds like a “shed recording” is more than unfair. Granted, if you’ve lived a sheltered life and all the rock records in your collection sound like they were produced by Roy Thomas Baker, Mutt Lange or Martin Birch, then sure, Yuck are lo-fi. But fact is, this album may be a teensy bit rough around the edges in places – in the same way its more direct influences could be – but it’s certainly not an album recorded on a tin-pot budget. You’d have to wonder what those Guardian chaps would make of ‘The Freed Weed’ by Sebadoh or the glorious Guided By Voices album ‘Bee Thousand’, if ‘Yuck’ is their ultimate idea of a lo-fi record.

For some of the album’s noisier numbers, the band’s principal influences couldn’t be more obvious. Parts of the opening number ‘Get Away’ obviously have early Dinosaur Jr as their blueprint and while Blumberg wisely avoids copying J Mascis’s Neil Young-esque whine, his vocals are still of the mid-90s alternative variety, coated in fuzziness. I should point out that while the tone is similar, neither Blumberg’s or Bloom’s guitar work has the edginess of Mascis at his best either, but even so, the end result is enjoyable, if predictable. ‘Operation’ utilises discordant riffs and a distorted vocal stolen directly from Sonic Youth, with almost nothing on hand which could be called original. Listening to the spiky rhythms, the influence is unmistakable to the point where you could almost be convinced you’ve heard Kim Gordon sing this herself.

When played loudly, ‘Holing Out’ will make you think your speakers have blown; its fuzzy guitars come at such a volume, you can barely hear the lead vocal. This doesn’t matter, of course, since the vocals are almost unimportant. There’s a sense of melody lurking beneath the wall of sound, but even so, Yuck appear to be more concerned with a general musical presence as opposed to any kind of intricacies. The general bluster here would either make J Mascis and Lou Barlow very proud or get them straight onto the phone to their lawyers. Even more extreme, ‘Rubber’ offers of seven minutes of ugly shoegaze drones, which barely deviate from their initial impact. There are reverbed vocals mushed under the barrage of noise, but in truth, the voice does not seem especially important. This is about maximum volume, minimal music, maximum impact. After about three minutes of this track, you’ll either be in your element, or hating it and thinking maybe My Bloody Valentine weren’t so bad. Try as they might, though, Yuck are unlikely to beat the New York outfit A Place To Bury Strangers when it comes to volume and reverb at this level.

Yuck’s debut isn’t all noise, however. There are a few of tracks on hand to demonstrate the band’s softer side. Listening to ‘Sunday’, it’s clear at least one of Yuck’s members has an ear for melody, for this is a track that delights with its chiming guitars and sunny vocal, recalling moments of The Posies and Teenage Fanclub. The influence from the latter is even stronger on ‘Shook Down’, with its gentle alternative pop leanings and use harmony vocals; there’s certainly nothing lo-fi here! Even lighter still, ‘Suicide Policeman’ has a slacker-pop quality, with Blumberg and his sister Ilana harmonising in a way which recalls Evan Dando and Juliana Hatfield. ‘Stutter’, meanwhile, brings a wave of melodies akin to Sonic Youth meets Billy Corgan. Twangy guitars and soft rumble of the bass combined with a vocal so hushed it almost floats. The general tone of ‘Suck’ brings more Corgan-isms with its almost mechanical rhythm guitar parts. The way those guitars interact with the rumbling bass are almost a dead ringer for the softer material from The Smashing Pumpkins’ ‘Gish’ (‘Rhinoceros’, in particular), although with slightly more tuneful vocals.

Occasionally, they seem content with meeting the listener halfway. The pop-fuelled ‘Georgia’ has another shared male/female vocal, but while the song has a sugar-coated vibe, it’s drenched in distortion and reverb, making Yuck sound like a band whose calling is to perform Velocity Girl covers produced by Steve Albini. With an equal measure of pop hook, alternative rock and feel-good qualities, it’s one of the debut’s more immediate numbers.

Each of Yuck’s different (largely borrowed) styles work well for them, and the band seem to be smart enough to realise that at the beginning of 2011, the sounds of this debut could be considered cool and retro. While it’s fairly short on originality, it should bring a glow of nostalgia to those listeners of a certain age.

February 2011