Without any kind of pre-amble, Codex Leicester use ‘Strong Like Bull’ to begin their debut EP at maximum ferocity.  A mix of distorted rhythms and jangling Wedding Present-esque guitars lay down a great foundation while gang vocals shout a simple refrain before everything collides in a colossal wall of sound.  And then, it stops suddenly, having shaken the listener.  As the musical equivalent of entering a meeting unannounced and then shouting repeatedly before making a swift exit, this track is a resounding success – assuming, that is, Codex Leicester were looking to introduce themselves in a way which makes a startling impression.   It may have the subtlety of a hammer, but ‘Strong Like Bull’ sets the tone for this six track release which mixes the extreme end of indie rock with a healthy dose of fuzzy post-hardcore.

The second number, ‘Hey Hey Hot Legs’ continues in a similar vein, although a moment of solo vocal allows a few more (ultimately necessary) melodies shining though.  As before, any melodies at all are heavily distorted and coupled with off-kilter rhythms.  Throughout the track, the barrage of distorted guitars provides metallic wall of sound (something which, surely, sounds even huger in the live setting).  Once again, Codex Leicester are far more concerned with rhythms and layers than hooks or accessibility, but musically, by the end of track there’s certainly no arguing with them.  Provided you can get your head around the general volume combined with incoherency, these guys sound like they mean business.   ‘Van Sant’ and ‘Oh Wichita’ collectively offer another four minutes of swaggering distortion, adding nothing particularly new to the band’s musical palette, though beneath the general noise and chaos, the drums can occasionally be relied upon to do something interesting.

Even less subtle, ‘Concrete Stetson’ arrives with a huge riff combined with screaming. Underneath the screaming, Kris Tearse’s drumming offers a few more great flourishes, but as before, the almost unrelenting wall of guitars makes almost everything else seem inconsequential.   Offering a rare glimpse into something far more structured, ‘SS Supersleeper’ opens with clean guitar work augmented by a great bassline.   The rattling bass is then topped by droning keyboards (thickening Codex’s sound even more), crashing drums and a heady combination of whispered and shouted voices.  Somewhere between the two extremes lays brief bursts of solid indie rock fare.  The greater exposure towards light and shade is a plus point during this number, showing Codex as having a grater musical range than first hearing may suggest.  As before, you won’t find many hooks, but that’s not really what these guys are about.   ‘SS Supersleeper’ is the EP’s best track hands down, proving the old theory that sometimes less is more.

Codex Leicester are solid musicians and there’s no doubt that with regard to musical backdrops, this unsubtle sound really works for them. Pulling together their barrage of careening noise, listeners may perhaps hear Bring Me The Horizon, with traces of Fugazi, Helmet, Quicksand and more besides, although none of the band’s influences ever seem glaringly obvious.  Within this release, you’ll find some great sounds, bolstered by a great production and a few interesting musical embellishments.  As a whole, however, this is a band who don’t seem to be looking for any kind of mass acceptance; some more sensitive listeners may find Codex Leicester’s grinding and crashing approach is best experienced in short bursts.  It may take time to fully get to grips with ‘A Madman’s Lullaby’, but for some, it could be listening time well spent.

April/May 2012

Sometimes dark and brooding, occasionally sunny and psychedelic, this second album by Coke Weed was recorded live in the studio in just ten days with no overdubs.  Once you’ve heard this US outfit’s blend of roots music, psychedelia and dreamy shoegaze-ish moods, it’s impossible to imagine how these songs may have sounded if they’d gone for a more polished approach.  In fact, it would be fair to say, by bringing in a whole world of overdubs and studio trickery, it probably just wouldn’t be Coke Weed.  The band picked up a cult following with their 2011 debut ‘Volume 1’ (an album recorded on two tape recorders and given away for free), and those guys are likely to be absolutely captivated by 2012’s ‘Nice Dreams’, although it’s hugely unlikely whether this album will break Coke Weed to a much bigger audience.

Across most of this self-released disc the band embraces a twin vocal approach, which, in theory, should have provided them with their greatest strength.  It’s a pity with the lack of overdubs, therefore, this male and female duo both spend most of ‘Nice Dreams’ sounding like they’re stoned out of their little minds.  At first, it’s almost endearing – after all, those who love Neil Young have always embraced his live-in-the-studio one-take vocals.  Before long, though, anything potentially endearing soon becomes hugely irritating.  Of course, one would assume the many out of tune vibes elements were included on purpose: some folks have achieved cool with being off-key – look no further than Chrissie Hynde, Deborah Harry or the god-like Thurston Moore – but with these guys, it’s a different story.  Assuming they are doing this for effect, Coke Weed strives so hard for coolness via their slackness (something evident right down to their choice of name) that it’s often painful and a just a little embarrassing.

On ‘Pure Pattern’ Milan McAlevey’s creaky voice meets echoing guitars and drums, quickly channelling the mood of twangy old country records (albeit played in a garage setting).  Something which, at first, sounds like it’s going to be potentially interesting in a Low Anthem kind of way, swiftly sounds very tired, eventually resulting in the band sounding as if they’re mechanically winding down.  By the three minute mark, the song sounds like it’s gone on forever with its hideous droning.   Much better, however, is ‘No Poem’, a 60s inspired tune weaved around a finger picked guitar.  The occasional electric chords provide a pleasing counterpart of the more complex sounds, while the vocals hint at psychedelia.  The harmonies aren’t especially tight (well, not at all, in fact), but keeping with the mood of the period Coke Weed set out to evoke, it doesn’t matter.  The guitar work alone makes this one of the album’s better numbers.

With a blend of stompy bass drum and loud twang, the intro to ‘Magpie’ promises good things.  The understated vibes combined with Nina D’s breathy vocals provides a good example of what Coke Weed does best, but it can still make pretty difficult listening.  For three minutes, musically, there’s barely any shift from what’s offered during the intro: the guitars and drums amble while Nina channels a shoe-gazish voice.  The closing section turns up the volume, though not the intensity or the enjoyment.  More dream-pop elements sit at the heart of ‘Someone So Young’, which has an opening verse which could almost pass as a Mazzy Star left-over, with Nina’s voice echoing over softly plucked guitar strings.  By the time the whole band come together for the chorus (forcing Nina to increase the volume), the magic is lost, with the piece eventually turning into little more than another tuneless waltz.

The upbeat ‘Golden Apples’ has a jaunty mood which borrows from the late 60s, where Coke Weed shows a slight Velvet Underground influence.  For reverbed guitars it’s a high point for sure, and the verses are musically interesting, with Nina’s vocal channelling Nico and Sonic Youth’s Kim Gordon.  The chorus melody could also be commended, with its optimistic feel.  The vocal delivery may not appeal to all, however, sounding not unlike The Mamas & Papas after a particularly heavy night.  In terms of lasting appeal once the album has finished, it’s one of the band’s most enduring numbers.  If only ‘Nice Dreams’ could have included more tunes of this relatively feel-good nature, it could have been instantly improved.

There are a couple of reasonable moments to be cherry-picked on this release [reasonable, in this case, is about as positive a compliment as this particular reviewer can muster] – it’s just a pity that some of the out-of-tune elements make even those so difficult to listen to. If you loved Coke Weed before, it’s highly likely you’ll continue to be enthralled by their mix of old Americana, psychedelia and dream pop from the world of the garage.

For everyone else, before deciding whether to listen to this album, ask yourselves these questions: Will I like being whisked into a world of songs that sometimes sound like She & Him, only played badly by a band trying far too hard to be retro-cool?  Does my record collection need an album which is potentially moulded from good influences but ultimately has no grasp what made any of those influential artists great?  Do I have a lot of time and patience? If the answer to any of these is “no”, then forget it.

March 2012

This Chicago based outfit bill themselves as a “party angst” band.  There’s a small amount of angst cutting through the core of their debut full length album ‘Home’, but rarely any emotions you’d want to spend any length of time with. In fact, any decent levels are angst often end up swamped by bigger levels of dirge and whining. ‘Home’ sounds rough around the edges, as if most of it was taken straight off the mixing desk as a live in the studio recording; this approach suits many blues and garage rock bands, but given Young Jesus’ s more complex sound, this technique squashes half of the album’s more intricate elements, while making most of the album unlistenable.

Things start relatively softly with John Rossiter’s vocal – a croon in every sense of the word – backed by jangling electric guitars.  Various rimshots are used as percussion, while the actual drums are used almost as sparingly as the rest of the instrumentation.  Interest builds, and the band launches into the song’s key sentiment: “Your family and friends will never die”.  This becomes a line repeated almost ad nauseam throughout the remainder of the number, until it becomes, at first, almost numbing and then various states of boring.  The vocals lift from a wobbling croon to a full on shout in a farther attempt to build any tension.  Nothing here holds any interest beyond the third listen.

‘David’ ups the ante musically, but has a really hollow sound.  The vocals move between the previous croon and an indie yelp as Young Jesus’s frontman shamelessly models himself on Arcade Fire’s Win Butler, although without any of the charm.  The drums add a few moments of interest – as do the layers of garage rock fuelled guitars which present during the closing moments – but, on the whole, this is little more than a four minute slog.  For the first half of ‘News’, the band jangles away merrily (but often unremarkably) while Rossiter’s voice croons and cracks.  There’s a brief moment of light midway, as the drums and bass come together in an almost 60s mod/soul fashion, but then for the inevitable climax, the band crashes through a few more bars unconvincingly.  All the while, Rossiter squeals and shouts like he’s suffering from internal bleeding.

Presenting the band’s quieter tendencies, ‘Earthquake’ pits Rossiter’s vocal against a softly plucked acoustic guitar – kind of in a Tindersticks fashion – and the ghostly backing vocals add something extra to the generally haunting mood.  Sparseness is obviously this band’s strongest suit, so it’s a pity most of the record is far more intent on being filled with ragged, noise based material.  ‘Not Quite Dead’ has elements which never quite gel, as the band pound out a slow repetitive riff over several minutes, often masked by distortion.  Each end of the song is bookended by slightly threatening softer material, which has the end result of making the whole thing sound like two half formed ideas welded together.  It may just about work as a brooding, lengthy mood piece, but something resembling a song? Just forget it.

‘Away’ is another mid-paced slab of indie rock that’s driven by pounding drums and buzzing guitars.  During the verses, Peter Martin’s drums add a few nice rolls while the rest of the band ambles along like a cut price version of The Wedding Present.  If you like The Wedding Present, obviously, their influence could be seen as a good thing. But, then again, if you do happen to like The Wedding Present, then there’s no point in listening to this; time would be better spent with your much-loved and well-worn copies of ‘George Best’ and ‘Seamonsters’.  The chorus turns up the intensity and volume – and, sadly, yes, the yelping – and does its best to kill the mood.  Similarly, ‘The Greater Boulders’ brings a few reasonable elements via a solid bassline and crashy chords, but half the time the vocals are at odds with the music…and even if you can find anything to hold your interest for more than a minute, there’s no avoiding the whole thing resembles a Pixies reject which outstays its welcome.

They say you should never judge a book by its cover, but this release by Young Jesus is an album that’s as unremarkable (and as low-budget) as its packaging.  A few more bucks spent of beefing up their sound may have improved things sonically, but there’s little help for a frontman who spends most of the time channelling various David Gedge-ism’s, piss-poor Nick Cave impersonations or sounding like a drunk on a karaoke machine who thinks he sounds like Ian Curtis.   There are a couple of brief glimpses of talent, but unless you’re an indie-rock/pop fan with far too much time on your hands, this release offers absolutely nothing to get excited about.  As for the promised party angst, that often equates to “mood killer”.  Avoid.

February 2012