Badly Drawn Boy has never changed, not once throughout his 3 album career (or 2 depending on where you’re counting from), not one little bit, no sir. He just writes more songs – when he has enough he puts a record out. And that’s that, no real fuss, or so it would seem. The artwork is about as close to a new concept as he gets, and yet again this record does have some fine imagery courtesy of partner-in-crime and Continue Reading
Viv’s new album ‘Flawed’ feels like the upside of a Dave Grohl mood swing – happy,earnest and direct. It’s a collection of tub thumping indie pop; four minute sing-a-longs infused with sensitivity and driven by crunching guitars and big choruses. Although the San Francisco five piece’s second album contains the occasional echoes of Blink 142 and Foo Fighters et al, it never feels derivative, simply another (excellent) addition to the grunge-pop genre. We begin by tumbling into ‘Friends’, a celebration Continue Reading
Sometimes it’s not enough to write great music. Sometimes you need something else; a statement, a sound bite, a fistful of anarchy, a remorseless desire to impress, a knack for crossing boundaries and a propensity for stirring the interests of the press with sheer, unapologetic awkwardness. In fact, it’s often what you are by accident that rewards you the most. And then there’s that propulsive belief within critical circles that music must always be new and exciting; that it must Continue Reading
With a sprawling ragbag democracy of communal spirits to rival The Polyphonic Spree, Sweden’s The Concretes arrive on our shores to assuage our agitated post-punk souls with their undulating waltzes and a plentiful cup of gentle bonhomie. Formed in Stockholm in 1995 by central girlie Concretes, Lisa Milberg, Maria Eriksson and Victoria Bergsman the band cut their first EP in 1999 before following it up with a firmer collection of tracks for the ‘BoyYouBetterRunNow’ in 2000. Grabbing three instruments at Continue Reading
For an album that starts by spectacularly ripping off Roy Budd’s early seventies masterpiece, ‘Carter Takes A Train’ as well as deploying more than the occasional Ennio Morricone signature it’s surprising that Glide writer, producer and all round sonic entertainer, Will Sergeant has even heard of a computer, let alone used one. But used one he has – not just on this album – not just with this band – but with a broad and masterful range of weird and Continue Reading
Even if there’s no solid emergent mainstream genre raising above all others this year (aside from perhaps the gaining pace of Britpop nostalgia), it is becoming a year when some are nudged overground by the accessible work of select bands. Hope Of The States smartened up post-rock’s appearance surprisingly well earlier this month, and now The Killers follow through on the promise of two pristine singles by taking the dark slicing 80s synth-pop of The Faint, giving it a giddy Continue Reading
Some of our more affluent readers may like to follow this sage advise – never get involved with a celebrity, you’ll only end up stalked daily by some gimp photographer from The Sun and getting your kids slapped about at school for having a shit hippie name. Everybody else should pay heed to the following – never get involved with Taff rogue Russell Toomey, he will hate every moment he spends with you, eventually bolt himself in a darkened room Continue Reading
These things were sent to try us. It’s a British state of mind, our rainy disposition, expecting bottlenecks and broken bones every time we step out the door, outwardly denouncing achievements unless they were obtained over some insurmountable odds. If it is a requirement that we must earn our triumphs then Hope Of The States are, it would seem, rightful victors of their own little coup. But we don’t want to judge this album based solely on its external circumstances, Continue Reading
Four years after the delirious success of Tanto Tempo and the equally well marketed and equipped remix album, Bebel Gilberto (daughter of Brazilian Bossa-god, Joao Gilberto, step-daughter to Astrud Gilberto) returns to temper our lives with another twelve tracks of blissed-out loveliness. Drawing from an age of innocence where the flavour of your ice-cream was of cultural significance and beaches were a lush, exotic farscape of impossible fantasy rather than the loci of another stumble to and from Pacha, eponymously Continue Reading
Fuzzy, agitated, intensely frustrating, curiously funky and as restless as a bishop in a brothel. And if you can add anything to that I’ll gladly dip my dick in a salad dressing of your choice. Australian art-come-tennis-come-music fanatic Chris Colonna was fortuitous to say the least when he swindled a student exchange trip to Brooklyn’s renowned Pratt Institute in from his mentors at Canberra School Of Art in 2001. Afterall, a free ticket to your spiritual home is rare and Continue Reading