In the eyes of the general public (e.g. Radio 1 listeners), Music For Men is the second album from Gossip, the follow-up to Standing In The Way Of Control. In the eyes of the handful of fans that liked them before they got wrung through an all-encompassing Skins, Jo Whiley, NME PR machine and churned out as a trendy band making a don’t-give-a-fuck statement, this is actually their fourth album.

Personally, I fall into the first category – damn work place democracy and Radio 1 being the station of choice in the office. But strangely enough, after having Standing In The Way Of Control rammed down our throats to a point of utter saturation, I don’t feel a burning desire to dig out their previous efforts.

Musically, Music For Men is more of the same – the album cover alone means guaranteed air time, (it’s actually their drummer, Hannah Blilie) as once again Beth Ditto is making, like, a really valid intelligent point about men, women and cream cakes. Interestingly, the album credits do list all the band members as ‘lyricist’ and ‘composer’, but I’d certainly be hard-pressed to tell you even how many other members of Gossip actually exist, let alone how much they contribute to the tracks.

Ultimately that’s what Gossip seem to have become – they’re no longer seen as a band, but merely as the mouth piece of Ms Ditto. Any merit their music has is almost completely overshadowed with this week’s picture of her out with Kate Moss, and whilst music should be about making statements, these days what’s reported about her in The Sun seems to be far more important than what she’s saying on Music For Men.

That’s not to say that this album doesn’t carry the usual Gossip spiel though, and, in true Gossip style, it ain’t subtle. As Ditto sings on ‘Heavy Cross’ it’s a ‘cruel cruel world’, but one can’t help but thinking if she just kept quiet and got on with the task at hand, it might not be quite so bad.

The lyrics for ‘Love Long Distance’ read more like a rnb track by music channel fodder rather than the musings of an intelligent woman of the world – “I’ve had it with your antics, your childish games baby/ I call your number twice but it rang and rang”, and also a rather bizarre nod to ‘I Heard It On The Grapevine’ – “I heard it on the bass line not much longer would you be mine, baby”. Other lyrical themes centre around woman-scornery, relationships, and a light smattering of general partying.

Musically, there’s not a huge amount of progression from Standing In The Way Of Control, although the band seemed to have moved more towards a more dance feel rather than their previous punk influences. But it’s still their trademark cymbal-heavy, synth-laden, rave/disco-inspired, sound, which, no matter what you think of them, will fill up those dancefloors. They excel most at the up-beat tracks, particularly ‘Spare Me From The Mold’ and ‘8^th Wonder’  where it’s not really about the lyrics at all, just the repertoire of shapes you can pull. There’s still lots of grunts, hu-hu-huhs and woah-woah-woahing from Beth Ditto, and at times she’s doing little more than shouting.

Fans and followers of Gossip and Beth Ditto won’t be disappointed with this album. It’s more of what they’ve been lapping up, and no doubt it’ll be on heavy rotation on the Radio 1 playlist. But it does nothing to convince anyone else that Ditto is worth listening to.
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It’s been a long time since Brian Molko and co started their journey as Placebo, in that time they have earned something of a reputation as a band which, more than most, divides people into different camps – there is the dedicated fanbase and the similarly dedicated anti-Molko naysayers, put off by the man’s infamous androgyny and vocal mannerisms. But there’s a third group, as there is with any band – those who, like myself, have mostly been passed by the band’s five albums up to now. When it comes to Battle for the Sun, the first group will buy it, the second will not. But what about the third, the floating voters, so to speak? Will the much-touted diverse instrumentation and new direction of this album draw them into the fold? Continue Reading

Remember that Channel 4 show, Teachers? Aside from Bob, the best thing about it was the soundtrack. Full of those post Brit pop, pre-whatever-came-next anthems that perfectly augmented the dishy Andrew Lincoln riding his bike through the streets of Bristol in an ‘inevitably life’s shit but at least we can go to the pub’ kind of way?

Well it’s a damn shame Army Navy weren’t around then, because the makers of the show would’ve been set with the soundtrack. This album has exactly the kind of jangly guitars, bittersweet lyrics, and nostalgia-tainted sounds as Ocean Colour Scene, Dodgy, Shed Seven – the bands that are classed as Brit pop but essentially just rode on it’s coattails. Continue Reading

He’s been in the business for almost 20 years, but it’s been a decade since Moby became absolutely massive with the wonderful Play – since which he has spent most of his time in the musical wilderness. It’s anyone’s guess where it all went wrong, but Wait For Me shows there might be life in the old dog yet. Continue Reading

With Wilco, it’s all about the (classic rock) swagger. Look at the cover: It’s a goddamned camel. On a balcony. With a party hat. Then there’s that title, Wilco (The Album). It’s redundant. It’s redundant because it can be. There doesn’t have to be a reason. It’s a joke, as if the camel isn’t enough of a clue. Yet, underneath all that superfluous nonsense is the band making a point: Wilco is the shit. That’s all. It’s a tad smug, yes, but it’s also true if you consider its rich catalogue.

Wilco finds the band writing a set of mature songs. Not that Wilco has ever been sophomoric or amateurish, but here the band lets the songs speak for themselves meaning that there isn’t much besides the actual song structures to explore. Wilco understands its own ability to craft songs that don’t require extraneous material in order to be valuable – that’s swagger. Few songs have anything beyond what is absolutely essential for the song to be complete. Wilco isn’t expansive or the defining statement of a band like Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. It also isn’t a reaction to said album type like Sky Blue Sky. Instead, Wilco is the middle ground between the two extremes: an acknowledgement of the fact that the studio can be utilized as an instrument itself while concurrently an affirmation that songs need to not only be constructed, but also be allowed to exist on their own. Case in point, ‘You and I,’ a duet with Feist, is a gentle country-rocker about true love featuring only minimal background keyboard and guitar effects to emphasize the space between lovers in the song. Likewise, the piano ballad ‘Country Disappeared’ contains just enough guitar reverb to decorate lines like “I won’t take no/ I won’t let you go/ All by yourself/ Oh no you need my help” and “Hold out your hand/ There’s so much you don’t understand/ So stick as close as you can/ all of the best laid plans…” Continue Reading

Hailing from Prince Edward Island, Catherine MacLellan is quickly becoming one of the most respected names in the Canadian roots scene. Previous album Church Bell Blues topped the Canadian Roots charts and saw her mentioned alongside the likes of Jenn Grant and near name sake Melissa McLelland. A glimpse at the contributors list to the album shows that already MacLellan can pull out some of the finest roots musicians to lend a hand.

Album opener ‘Take A Break’ gives an indication of what is to follow for the rest of the record. An upbeat poppy take on Country, Maclellan’s vocals coming across with a slight jazzy tinge. With a walking bassline so trad it sounds like it could be the preset on a Casio keyboard, it sees familiar country tropes trotted out once again- working hard out in the fields, chiding errant lovers. Continue Reading

I like Ten City Nation. Obviously that has something to do with their music, but it’s also helped by the fact that up until now they’ve given it all away, which has always been a pretty effective means to try to win me over. I originally discovered them through REPEAT Records, a small label attached to a “Manic Street Preachers-inspired mini zine”. Ten City Nation’s self-titled debut album, the single “Exhibition Time Again” and a small selection of live tracks all got a listen from me because of that alluring freeness, and their music has proved entertaining enough in the past for me to quickly decide to investigate further once I realised that this second album, At the Still Point, was on the way. Continue Reading

In their earliest EPs, dating from the early noughties, Anathallo occasionally sound like a sea-shanty inspired Mars Volta tribute act; or, in their (even) darker moments, a kind of crass pop-punk band with mildly proggy tendencies and a trumpet or two. Ok, so maybe I’m being a bit harsh, but what’s abundantly clear is that this band have come a long way in the last 8 or so years. In Canopy Glow, their second label-released full length (and first on the Anticon label), teenage angst is replaced with…well, adult angst. Which is something we all have, innit.

Opener ‘Noni’s Field’ is a prime example; musically, it erupts with an agile beauty which prevails through much of the album. Lyrically, however, we are launched straight into the meat of human preoccupation; “How will you go?”, reads Matt Joynt’s lilting vocal, “Out through your mouth in a sigh? Into a space we don’t know”. Heavy stuff, I’m sure you’ll agree. Continue Reading

After a long tenure on Mush Records, Bibio (born Stephen Wilkinson) was brought into the prestigious Warp fold on – so it’s said – the recommendation of Boards of Canada. Having such a respected name sing your praises is any musician’s dream, but it’s conceivable that the West Midlands-born artist might have been best off staying where he was. In any case, a Warp release is sure to see him reaching whole new audiences; the words ‘make or break’ seem to be hovering ominously over this release. Let’s try to ignore them. Continue Reading

At first glance this seems like a bit of an odd choice for British Sea Power – to soundtrack a silent film from 1934. Yet on reflection, the fact BSP have always been a somewhat capital R Romantic band, the chance to meddle with a classic of Romantic documentary film making must have been too much; and add to that that it was a documentary about man working against the forces of nature, and in reality you have the perfect match.

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When the narrative comes to be written for standout albums of 2009, there’s going to be a whole heap of Scottish bands involved. And they just keep coming: The Phantom Band, My Latest Novel, Meursault, We Were Promised Jetpacks, the live Frightened Rabbit Album, Broken Records… There Will Be Fireworks are the latest to well up from the fertile Scottish plains, and I suspect, come the end of 2009, they’re going to be somewhere near the top of that ragged heap, if not at the very top.

The facts are these: There Will Be Fireworks are four Glaswegians – old school friends – Adam Ketterer (drums, glockenspiel), David Madden (bass), Gilbran Farrah (guitar, violin, piano) and Nicholas McManus (guitars, vocals, organ) and this is their first record, though it has been a fair while in the making. It was recorded pretty much live in a huge 17th century mill in Stratharven and it’s hard to miss the fact that the circumstances of the recording have invaded the record’s very weave – it sounds huge. What the band have done is taken the dynamics of a certain strand of post-rock (think Mogwai and Explosions in the Sky) and squashed them into throbbing, explosively passionate songs, and in doing so have channelled something of a new sound – a propulsive, widescreen sound that seems at once born of the organic live recording situation and something else, something deeper. There are lives packed into these songs, and at times it feels as if the skin is close to ripping. Continue Reading

There is no possible redemption for any band that names one of their songs ‘Daniel Johnston Was Stabbed In The Heart With The Moondagger By The King of Darkness And His Ghost Is Writing This Song As A Warning To All Of Us’. Come back, Panic! At The Disco, all is forgiven. Even if Moondagger were as sublime as Veckatimest or as revolutionary as L’Histoire de Melody Nelson, that title alone would be suffice to guarantee them a lifetime’s entry in the annals of indie wankerdom, but their music’s practically a fast-track pass to the front of the queue. Continue Reading

Miss Welch certainly knows how to keep people waiting doesn’t she? Rewind back to 2008 and it might have been fitting to class Lungs as ‘eagerly anticipated’ – that could be a slight overstatement now as she would’ve fallen off the radar altogether had she left it any longer.

Was it worth the wait then? Well, let’s say from the start that Paul Epworth got his sticky indie mitts involved (plus James Ford and Steve Mackay), so anyone opposed to music produced for the indie-kid generation you’re excused herewith as we all know there’s no pleasing you. Florence seems to have fallen victim to the evil curse ‘thou must not like anyone praised by the New Musical Express’. But, if you can get over the fact that a) you didn’t just discover her in a dingy East London venue and b) they play her on Radio One, then you might actually find that this album’s a keeper. Continue Reading

The Pale Air Singers is, or rather was, a collaborative projects between Calgary’s The Cape May and Victoria’s Run Chico Run. Recorded in two sessions, one in each bands home town, their self titled debut record is the result of a mostly improvised recording process. As a result the record sounds loose and dream like, arpeggiated guitars intertwining with a swagger, muted horns fading in and out of the mix and understated harmonies from the numerous vocalists.

Clocking in at just under half an hour over it’s nine tracks the album deals with songs of fate, bar room violence and jailbreak. While some of the tracks have a narrative, like the music, it is far from straightforward. Opener “Convict Escapes” uses chain gang handclaps while a delicately picked guitar line slides and wonders around in the background. There is a sparse beauty to the song, particularly when the horn section breaks down and the band hit a perfect three part harmony. The lilting melody and fluid guitar parts are reminiscent of the criminally underrated Kingsbury Manx. ‘Cubby, He Chopped Me Down’ makes use of Run Chico Run’s dubby delayed synths and electronics and insistent drums as Cape May vocalist Clinton St. John imparts the tale of the convict killing the husband of the woman he has been sleeping with, while ‘The Last of Jim Prior’ sees him going to his death at the gallows, a funereal accordion and piano roll as the convict faces up to his future: “Hey don’t pity me/ this soon will be over…no more are the cops/ no more are there enemies.” Continue Reading

There are some bands to which Wikipedia does no favours. “Foreign Born is an American folk rock band”. Doesn’t really inspire you to listen to them does it? Mentions of them touring with Rogue Wave, Cold War Kids and Giant Drag spice it up a little. But really, do we need another “American folk rock band”? The answer, though, is “If they sound like Foreign Born, then it’s a resounding YES”. Continue Reading

Musical compartmentalisation is of course a bad thing more often than not, but it’s increasingly an exercise in chasing one’s own tail trying to work out where Slow Club fit in. They’re not really twee, or indie, or folk, or anti-folk, or acoustic roots, but you can see how the confusion might have arisen. Charles Watson and Rebecca Taylor’s harmonies and summery faux-ramshackle approach is one that doesn’t reach out for approval or, despite the album title, smug superiority but suggests in an implicit, low-key fashion that people discover them under their own steam. Which, with more than a couple of years’ worth of singles and well placed support slots behind them, seems to be working out fine. Continue Reading

The keyboard has come a long way over the years. There was a time you had to pedal to get the damn thing to work, but by the 1980’s you too could invest in a keyboard to have in your own home. It would usually have a demo button on it, which was good, because that saved any effort on your part in actually trying to learn how to play the damn thing.

These days of course keyboards have evolved to such a degree that you could describe them as having all the bells and whistles – which of course they do, but they’ve got so much more going on besides rudimentary percussion and wind instruments. But where’s the fun in that eh? They don’t even sound just a little bit shit, which was always part of the allure of the old keyboards in a funny way. Continue Reading

There is still something of the shock of the new with Tortoise. For what is ostensibly a rock band – albeit one that draws on a multitude of influences and techniques – they manage to avoid the neat narrative conventions of resolution and build and release, of deep affective response, of fitting into some solidified sense of a rock continuum. Instead they seem to stand outside the whole tattered mess of genre and use its tropes and forms in a manner of oblique comment. This is a band that implicitly understands the structure of the music it plunders and manipulates, yet sidesteps its muddled sense of its own history. They are genuinely unique.

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Emerging amidst a flurry of female artists who have decided to put their acoustic guitars to one side and move on, whispers of Little Boots talents have been steadily growing since late last year when tracks such as ‘Meddle’ and ‘Stuck On Repeat’ had the indie-blog scene buzzing. Having come tantalizing close to the limelight with her previous almost-famous pop-trio Dead Disco, Little Boots, aka Victoria Hesketh debut album Hands proves that she has got what it takes to make it to the top, but the question is whether she can stay there. Continue Reading