Various, Year One (Son) CD
UK hip hop does not, and never did even a decade ago, begin and end
with Derek B's "bad young brother." Son, more than most---certainly
more than some journalists---know this very well as they've spent the
last 12 months dropping slabs of terrific British beats and rhymes to
appreciative audiences. This compilation collects fifteen of the best
in an end-of-year report which sees the label excelling in all
subjects. Worthy of particular mention: Def Tex's "Rare ride," which
was remarkably only a b-side, rocks a walkman loop and live double
bass with a tight and rapid rap and Lost Island's "Return to forever"
where slack, loping beats underpin a dulcimer and soft sax jazz with
lazy rhymes.
Cable, Sub-lingual (Infectious) CD
It's finally out, but brings with it the sad tidings that Cable are no
more and leaves me writing what is essentially an obituary. A task I'm
not enjoying much, although sitting here in front of the stereo with
all my Cable records in a big pile listening to "Oubliette" for the
5th time in a row is some kind of consolation.
The Cable (at the time Matt Bagguley, Darius Hinks, Peter Darrington
and Neil Cooper) story kicked off for me at Reading Alley Cats in
1995, third on the bill to somebody long-since forgotten. After being
pinned against the bar by a high volume slice-n-dice of ragged and
bendy chunk rock, I purchased "Blindman"---their Infectious Records
debut---at the merchandise stand and hurried home to bathe in its
supercharged avalanche of reinvented hardcore power and mini-melodies
topped off with that strangely alluring noise Matt Bagguley made to
disguise the fact that he couldn't sing. More was required so I ran
out and bought the two double-A 7"s on the Derby-based Krunch!
label. "Oubliette/Seventy" and "Sale of the century/Hydra," raw,
primitive versions of the racket the band were creating live sated my
hunger until another gig, this time at the Cambridge Boat Race where
the band entertained 5 people (counting the pub cat) with an
electrifying 20-minute set that ended with Matt hurling his already
battered guitar at the ceiling without realising it was only about a
foot above his head.
"Seventy" was re-recorded and released on Infectious with "Downlift
the Uptrodden", the mini-LP to follow. Produced by John Robb, and
sounding like it, "Downlift.." screamed through its duration, all
siren whining and feedback screeches, virgin pop structures shafted by
the dirty dildo of dole-queue punk rock music and an obsession with
death which the album sleeve notes attributed to their appropriation
of "the raw growl of old death-haunted blues men" but which those in
the know attributed to them making up lyrics as the songs were
recorded. "Murdering Spree" in particular sounded like an explosion in
a firework factory sited at the top of an active volcano, during a
thunderstorm. With distortion and shouting. Around this time, the band
ran into Oasis at Rockfield recording studios and sparked a fight
between the Gallagher brothers when a drunk Darius was asked for his
opinion of the new Oasis album and treated everyone to the reply: "it
sounds like the Beatles...a total fucking rip-off and the worst kind
of lowest common denominator trash." Cable were ejected at gun-point
(!) and Liam and Noel had a scrap which resulted Noel leaving for
London. It was in all the papers. Except for the bit about Cable,
which reflected the amount of press they'd get all the way through.
Having used up all the old material, it was time to record a grown-up,
proper, album for the new label and thus, with new drummer Richie
Mills, to "When animals attack," released in 1997 and preceded by
"Whisper firing line" both produced to great effect by full-time
lunatic visionary Kramer after a chance internet connection was
made. Kramer added silence to the band's sound, "Whisper.." being the
quietest track to date, easing along, both verse and chorus, on a
single tense riff composed of interlocked guitar and bass that always
threatened to rampage into an all-out noisefest but never quite
did. One in the eye for those critics who'd got them down as
a kind of loud/soft post-grunge outfit. The release of the album
coincided with support from Kerrang! but relatively little mainstream
coverage despite large amounts of advertising and even the ignominy
(in the band's eyes) of having "Freeze the Atlantic" used in a Sprite
advert. A sequence of cleverly packaged, coloured vinyl singles
followed and singularly failed to make an impression on the
record-buying public despite constant touring. Interviewed in Robots..
at the end of 1997, Richie didn't much care and insisted that they and
Infectious were, despite the lack of sales, "like one big happy
family." Live they were as overpowering as ever, their performance at
Dingwalls for London Music Week was riotous, the band saying nothing
but maintaining violent eye-contact with the audience as taped
massages shouted "you coke-snorting motherfuckers" between songs and
the band, dressed as Kraftwerk and about as animated, trashed
Richie's kit as they left the stage. The run of releases ended with a
6-track e.p. recorded live at Brixton Prison and including a right
royal thrashing of "San Quentin" which went down a bomb with the
inmates, all the lifers at the back "sharpening their knives and
headbanging."
And so, via a strange Europe-only compilation, "From here you can see
yourself" (reviewed elsewhere), to the third album which was to follow
single "Arthur Walker," the tale of a Derby explorer to the tune of
noisenik antics of the guitar variety, but was instead delayed for a
long time. "Sub-lingual" eventually surfaced with the news that
protracted legal wranglings with an ex-manager had resulted in the
split of the band and looked like preventing them from playing together
again, under any name, for several years. The album itself is another
evolutionary step along their art-rock road with a thicker mix and
real singing but still plenty of the lurch and surge, the twinned
anti-melodic riffs and squeals, drumming from a man who has obviously
spent too much time in thrash bands and the lock-down bass. With
hindsight, perhaps you can even feel a sense of foreboding and anxiety
too. It's unlikely that this record would've made them stars, but it
would've been nice to find out. Instead, for Cable, it's the end of
the line.
The Groove Criminals, Exhibit A TAPE
3 tracks of post-hip hop instrumental ghetto decay from these
lawbreakers. 3 tracks that crawl along mean, deserted streets to the
sound of a thunderous looped beat, occasional gangster film sample,
edgy scratching and very little else. The kind of minimalism that DJ
Vadim sculpts so well...only less of it. groovecriminals@ncweb.co.uk
Cay, Princes and Princesses (EastWest) CDS
Punk chord changes and tribal drumming drive this along route one at a
serious pace, through red lights, across zebra crossings and straight
on at that last corner. Top notch crackling distort pop that's having
a hard time losing it's "Hole" tag, and understandably so.
Various, Amateur hour (FanMael) CD
The label has probably given it away already but, if not, welcome to a
Sparks tribute double album featuring bands from the Sparks internet
list, mainly from the UK and US but also Australian, German and
Dutch. Robots.. faves the Cuban Boys pop up on disc 2 ("heavier")
doing "A song that sings itself" pretty straight (no surprise when you
know a bit about their murky past!) and God/Monster cover "The No.1
song in heaven" on disc 1 ("quieter") but, beyond that, they're all
new to me and I don't particularly like Sparks, so you know you're
getting a fair review...this time, at least haa
ahahahahah...Highlights: The Quackle tackles "This town ain't big
enough for both of us" faithfully enough and with a bit of a spark but
can't hold a candle to Egnekn's Daughter who play toys and kitchenware
as an 8-year-old sings the eminently suitable lyrics to "Those
mysteries" in her own sweet time. The Wonder Boys clatter through
"When do I get to sing my way" in a Glitter Band meets Mud rush and,
best of the lot, Collider's gabba theatricality, Lydonesque sneer and
Casio camp steal the show on "Something for the girl with everything"
which is pretty much the only track on here that captures the archly
eccentric edge and abandon that Sparks displayed at their peak. It's
over the top, kitchen sink pop and so much more than a respectful
cover. As new reviewer Jyoti might say: buy it if you're a Sparks fan,
don't buy it if you're not. Stijntjesduinstraat 25, 2202 LA,
Noordwijk, The Netherlands www.fanmael.net
Mo-ho-bish-o-pi, Two tier water skier (Seriously Groovy) CDS
Owing a serious debt to the Pixies, sounding not unlike Cable and
beating seven shades out of an undeserving snare, the Mo-ho's (as
no-one calls them) crash into your stereo, fall over noisily and speed
off again before you can even get off the settee. Great. dave.holmes@virgin.net
I am 7, Welcome (RnB) CDS
A 3-minute blast of chugga guitar pop that launches into a Mighty
Lemon Drops (circa "Like an angel") of immense proportions just few
enough times during its length to make you want to listen again. www.iam7.com
Ligament, Me supreme (Kitty Kitty) 7"
Like Mudhoney might sound if they rediscovered some of their early
enthusiasm, it's grungy bar- room pop music with big boots and bigger
guitars.
The Beta Band, The Beta Band (Regal) CD
"The Beta Band rap" is both a stylised autobiography of the band to
date and a manifesto for the future, flitting as it does between
warped barber shop vocal, hip hop and rock'n'roll as the short history
is related at the front end of this album. It's easy to see where the
Beasties and Beck comparisons have come from---who else changes hats
so often and with such maverick glee, such restless impatience to move
on again and such convincing authenticity? The Swap Shop approach
continues across the other nine tracks too: lazy soul psychedelia,
primitive electro, summery Bonzo- pop, a b-boy bouillabaise of
old-school samples and a drawling rap, cheery dub, shuffle beat
mantra, marathon Carpenter film score creepiness and cyclic, breathy
choral drone...but all imbued with essence of Beta, in much the same
way that the Freed Unit manage. The band say that they're not happy
with the album and that all they're interested in is "groove and funk"
but that can't be the whole story. I mean, Cameo never sounded this
good.
Wadzim Ykhnevich CD
A Russian busking on the Berlin U-Bahn during a week's holiday is
discovered by a passing Frenchman and they spend 3 nights recording an
album's worth of Russian folk songs including some originals on
acoustic guitar and accordion. As Pierre-Yves Rognin, the Frenchman,
says: "...the CD is not perfect [but] I always to record Wadzim
because he plays and sings always with emotion." And you can't say
much more than that. pyrognin@hotmail.com
The Wandrin Allstars, The Good People of America (Artists Against Success) 12"
Pink blancmange vinyl gets the tastebuds tingling and cheery lo-fi
hoe-down drum'n'bass with a sharp pop nous does the equivalent for the
ears. TWA are Johnny Carwash and Bobby Denver (yep) and they know a
good thing when they hear it, on this occasion a blend of "Cotton eye
Joe" and the KLF. Remixed by Jyoti Mishra as four-on-the-floor techno
and by the Cuban Boys as scores-on-the-doors disco.
Various, Soundclash EP (Soundclash) 12"
This sampler for the forthcoming "Undo" comp features four cuts for
the alternative dancefloor--- and I'm not talking your local pub's
student night. Dr Walker and M.Flux perpetrate a deep electro and
throaty Barry White groovecrime, Speedranch and Jansky Noise roil like
clouds over the North Sea in a surge of distortion, Triumph 2000
reprise "Oscillate" from their EP series of last year (we loved it,
see Robots.. 4), a rolling drone of breakbeats and hum and
Speakerfreaks stir up a nasty acidic take on hip hop jungle with extra
overload.
Superstar Disco Club, Welcome To (Che) CD
Superstar Disco Club, they say, but Studio 54 it ain't. Instead, SDC
offer a crunching head-on, seatbelts off, multiple pile-up involving
The Pixies, Cable, Blondie and Mudhoney. From France. It's aggressive,
inventive, twisted pop songs, distantly related to, although less
schizophrenic than, the Evil Superstars and not afraid to stick a few
bars of whatever takes their fancy in, whenever it takes their
fancy. "Skyscraper island" adds the enormous sound of Penthouse and "I
wanna beer" (not a dance, sadly) is a dumb-ass 60 second Ramones
yomp. "The Trans-en-Provence mystery" is psychedistortion like an
enraged and primal Scorpio Rising (whatever happened to...) and it all
ends with a Morricone droner not unlike Quickspace's recent effort at
the same.
Tendrils, Soaking red (Gold Hole) 7"
Part number 4 in the Gold Hole story, Tendrils are the Billy Joe
Country Explosion, an intensely spartan, menacing version of Smog
where weird feedback and overtones are woven into the backwards,
backwoods Hicksville semi-acoustics and disturbing lyrics. There's a
chap called Dorian Taj doing stuff not dissimilar if you're looking for
more.
The Chemistry Experiment, Agua de Beber (Short Fuse) 7"
Not the Chemistry Set, nor anything remotely resembling them,
TCE launch their quest for a less miserable existence with 4 tracks of
inventive bedroom sonics. "Disco song" is the real gem, featuring the
wonderful line "she says she's lost all of her marbles, peas and
gravy" as it pulses along on cod-disco beat, hypnotic guitar scrape
and thumping bass, a distant cousin of Minxus or, latterly, even
Novak. 6a Timor Close, Whiteley, Fareham, PO15 7EE.
Pop Unknown/Sunfactor, Split (Year 3000) 7"
They call it Emo and it's nice to know that Uncle Rod Hull made a
lasting impression on the nations' youth...Pop Unknown's "Sunday gone"
is a slowed-down pop song with thick guitars, buried vocals and a
little toy synth. Almost Grandaddy, in fact. Sunfactor drop the
synths, add a bit more tune and sound not unlike a tardy Bob
Tilton. 11 Stainer St, London, SE1 3QX year3thousand@bigfoot.com
Billy Mahonie, The big dig (Too Pure) CD
See this issue's interview with San
Lorenzo for a discussion on the utility of the math/post rock
nomenclature. But don't spend too long on it, we all know genre
boundaries are the futile defence of the narrow-minded. Billy Mahonie
show that it's the tunes that count with this post-hardcore (ha ha
ha!) brew of intense bursts of controlled aggression and light relief
in the form of dubbed-out passages of angular guitar riff, alternately
fluid and jerky. The dynamism of hardcore is generated with a wider
palette, finer brushes and the freedom that comes from abandoning the
structural restrictions of verse and chorus and instead crafting
minimalist instrumentals. There's no self-indulgence though, and
there's always enough ideas and enough melody to keep the
interest. For Tortoise fans with short attention spans.
The Action Time, Don't sell your soul (Speedway Sounds) 7"
I can't fit a quart into a pint pot, but I know a band who can,
musically speaking: The Action Time. They pack an album's worth of
pop hooks, riffs, licks, middle-8s and bubblegum chorus into a shade
over 2 minutes and somehow still manage to sound like the magical
daydream that is the Shangri-Las if George 'Shadow' Morton had been
into garage bands. 66b Grove Park Rd, London, N15 4SN.
The Shovels, Fantastic plastic generation (Kinky Star) CD
Reign in your credibility for a moment and picture in your mind's ear
this unholy union: the two- stroke Johnny Cash bass line, scratchy
indie guitar, Bob Dylan harmonica and two minute nonsense pop songs
sung in English by Belgians decked out in full 1970's finery and
recorded on primitive 1960's technology. Disbelief still suspended,
understand me when I say that these ingredients one of the records of
the year make. It's by The Shovels, it features such lyrical genius
as: "there's a hole in me pocket, all me money's over there" ("Hole in
me pocket") and "your cats are out on the street with their million
zillion feet and, rodents, it ain't looking sweet" ("The cat song")
and it's naive, not quite Country of a kind that you've never heard
before. 9 songs, 20 minutes, instinctive pop music...The Shovels. Can
you dig it? Vlasmarkt 9, B-9000, Gent, Belgium. kinky.star@planetinternet.be
@tomika, Dead flowers (Mother Stoat) CDS
In all honesty, unless you're in the first flush of youth---or
considerably less cynical and jaded than most---@tomika will be one of
those "heard it all before" bands. Lurking around the punk/pop/grunge
intersection, they essentially do nothing wrong---their songs shudder,
surge, squeak and pogo in all the right places---but, and this gives
my game away, it's like painting by numbers and...we've heard
it all before. 6 Clevedon court, Farnborough, Hampshire, GU14 7EJ http://listen.to/@tomika
Keyop, We hate Andrew song (Flexipop) 7"
Not content, as so many are, with just Radiohead, Keyop jump in with
both feet and, erm, show their respect for DJ Shadow as
well. The heights of neither are attained but a splendidly fresh
mid-fi juxtaposition of minor chords, record scratching and the odd
breakbeat with a wig-out ending is achieved and points to a bright
future for both band and label. www.flexipop.com 2 Daubeny Court,
Draycott Place, Bristol, BS1 4RE
Anjali, Feline woman (Wiiija) 12"
Eartha Kitt in a black catsuit, half-lit and throwing seductive,
dominating poses like it's going out of style as PJ Harvey rhumbas
with Lalo Schifrin in a hip hop manner.
Monkey Island, Monkey Island (Ultra) CD
When you see the magical words "produced by John Robb" in the credits
you know two things: (1) the record is worth buying; (2) the record
will be a crisp live recording with warts'n'all first-take spontaneity
and drive. Oh yes, and (3) it'll rock like the proverbial mater...with
DMs, tattoos, piercings and five o'clock shadow! This album is no
exception, exploring---as do contemporaries Penthouse---the
possibilities of a British Blues Explosion in drainpipes and brothel
creepers with jagged guitars and real-life Cartoons quiffs. 7 tracks
speed by in 19 minutes, a blur of harmonica riffs, pounding beats and
low-down JD growl before the 10-minute "Cha cha champion" winds down
in a sozzled jamming tradition. PO Box 12903, London, N16 7JR info@monkey-island.demon.co.uk
Ricky Spontane, Domino (Full Strength) 7"
Ricky Spontane's latest, a tribute to Fats rather than the old man's
pub game, sounds like a lost Chinn and Chapman composition, rejected
by the Sweet and Mud and jumped on with glee by the Spontane boys with
scratchy guitar abandon when it was rediscovered. The Wendy House,
54-56 Compton St, London, EC1V 0ET
Gas Solari, Space/Psych (both CDS) Gasworks
The development in the first two parts of this triptych suggests that
the concluding installment, "Trance," will be something
special. "Space" defines the starting point, Spaceman 3
copyism---which beats the usual Green Day copyism ever day of my
week---of the truly dedicated kind: every flange, echo, reverb and
drone, every gossamer vocal precisely moulded and every last laconic
nuance caressed into place. Having established that base, "Psyche"
steps out into a fractured slice-up of it. "Idol" replaces the
finely-crafted glissades with twisted shards of low-speed white noise
or reverse drone but in such a way that coherence retains a shaky
toe-hold on proceedings. "Godfather" strips down to acoustics and
recalls the Freed Unit in the same mode and "Ambition" not-so-slyly
steals a Spiritualised lyric, dropping it onto a piledriver of
drawn-out garage organ groove. Each disc 3.50 from 537 Burnage lane,
Manchester, M19 1NH gassolari@hotmail.com
Blue, Corrosion (Irislight) CD
Just 8 tracks here, each one labelled by a single-word title of which
some are transparent mnemonics for the music they represent---"Crunch"
is a big, bad sinuous dub-funk that skanks along in a fat On-U
fashion---while others are more obscure in origin: "Asset" drops
arctic slivers of staccato spy funk on to deep, lush
breakbeats. Between these two, the opener and closer, Blue delve into
their sequencer and slowly tease out six more break- and dub-led,
uniformly mellow but funky as hell, instrumentals. Real quality
material for late-night head nodders.
Brassy, Good times (Wiiija) 7"
Not the Chic classic but rather a dynamic blast of chic clatter: It's
quirk/pop with a healthy interest in an enormous beat, a 15 year-old
Polly Harvey marshalling Sleater Kinney with itching powder in their
pants, a DJ and, as "Back in business" shows, some hip hop know- how
too. Cracking stuff on their Wiiija debut.
Snow Patrol, Starfighter pilot (Jeepster) 12"
As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool returns to his folly, to
paraphrase the Bible. Luckily, Snow Patrol are not fools or dogs and
this is neither vomit nor folly, but it is about returning: Snow
Patrol to their debut single. It was released when they were called
Polar Bear and it's undoubtedly still their best effort today, a
yawing, thick-edged, bright-eyed guitar sludge drone, exuberant
nonsense of stellar quality. Remixed by Cut la Roc, Twintub and Steve
Hitchcock, but go for the original.
Bob Burnett, Loops and lines CD
No offence intended Bob, but the sleeve is not an invitation to play
this mini-album, looking for all the world like "Session man plays his
favourite technical classical guitar pieces." Flip the CD over and see
the image of guitar body plus human head. Oh dear...But then take a
listen and prepare to be stunned as Stravinsky is sampled and looped
then augmented by tastefully-applied picked guitar in an outlandish
jazz fashion. RESULT! And that's the M.O. for the remainder too, as
Burnett cleverly edits all and sundry including the King of the Hill
theme and the Band of Gypsys and plays over the top of them in
unexpected and thoroughly original ways. burb@etrassociates.org www.mp3.com/burnett
Chicken Lips, Shoe beast (Kingsize) 12"
4 tracks from this poultry collaboration between Sir Drew and
Psychedelia Smith which involve a perky disco/breaks crossover ("Shoe
beast"), deep bass acid and breaks ("Our thang"), filtered stuttering
breaks with twist funk ("Bodywag") and Stevie Wonder's
"Supersition"...and breaks.
Various, Defeated by technology (Cripperty) CD
If Peel's tour of the provinces had made it to the Isle of Man, he
could've done worse than drop into Cripperty for a cuppa and an
overview of the island's music scene courtesy of this comp which
displays plenty of variety and a somewhat incestuous personnel policy
across its 18 tracks. Highlights: moving acapella from Manx stalwart
Mike Seed, cheesewire Albini-esque guitar shredding and noise in the
form of El Gordo's "Flat hunting," the splendidly-named February Arse
(sounds like some seasonal bowl disorder) let rip with a Syd Barretty
wheeze of lo-fi psyche and Colon lurch and riff like distant cousins
of Big Black while Capri supply Weddoes plus electronics and Ohmeater
dishes out spartan clankbeats. 10 quid from 37 Oakhill Close, Glen
Park, Douglas, Isle of Man, IM2 6HU.
Penthouse, Creeper's Reef (Beggars Banquet) CDS
Can't be very long before they add Blues Explosion to their
name and be done with it. Another cracking mangled bar brawl of six
strings, Marlboro and the bottom of a whisky bottle, this time with a
winsome merman on the cover.
Cylob, Previously Unavailable On Compact Disc (Rephlex) CD
Another comp, this one a bit more recent. Starts off with the quite
stunningly beautiful "Flicklife" which reminds me of John Carpenter's
film stuff. All of the stuff on here has been out before but it's good
to have it all rubbing shoulders. I guess that also contributes to the
variety (there's also mixes by uZiq, Aphex and Autechre). Moody, sad
elegaic, silly Paradinas noises, electro - it's all here. There's even
a track ("Flad") which sounds like prime Test Department till the
bzangy noises come in. Mmmmm...metal bashing...Lovely! Also check
out the Rewind 12", it's humongous. Buy this album if you haven't got
most of the originals and wish to follow the way of the groink. Don't
buy it if you hate "bleepy bedroom shite." (Jyoti)
Lazarus Clamp, Sea sore songs (Amberley/Clever Legs) 7"
Two songs that've been kicking around for ages on a demo finally see
the light of day as Lazarus Clamp pop their vinyl cherry. It's a split
release between their own Clever Legs label and Amberley and sees the
Clamp simmering nicely on "Sop" and coming to the full Slinty boil on
"Bosporus," an ebb and flow of propulsion and revulsion dynamics,
repetitive and even derivative but still stirring as it winds in
tighter and tighter on itself, spirals of atune and coiled tension
building and ultimately exploding. c/o Agency Services, 13 Biddulph
St, Leicester, LE2 1BH. freespace.virgin.net/andrew.kingston/lazarusclamp
By Coastal Cafe, Black radio/Daffodil (Lissy's/demo) 7"/TAPE
First black stuff for these two Swedes, the 7" is split with Spare
Snare but, to be frank, there's nothing particularly new from them on
here although "Lesbians in wasitcoats" is amusing. By Coastal Cafe
offer 3 tracks that are customarily short but marginally better
recorded than their demo tapes have been. "Black radio" is mini-JSBX
recorded in a coal shed through several layers of sacking; "Unloved
golfer" charms as it stumbles along with Bagpuss toy keyboards and
strummed guitar backing Marilyn's plaintive singing and finally
"Somewhere in the night" which looks and sounds like it might be a
Smog cover and is, as these things go, almost the finished article:
virtually finished and quite lengthy with real verses and a chorus,
and even a couple of guitar tracks. All 3 tracks inside 3 minutes.
On the "Daffodil" tape there's more fragile magic, more fidelity-free
charisma in the form of a song sketchbook. If you thought that Guided
By Voices overworked their material, then By Coastal Cafe are the band
for you. "Daffodil" is recorded on a dictaphone, drums a ruler slapped
on the table, words a broken nursery rhyme; "She knew she liked me" is
a 30-second oompah guitar and hum beauty and "Old post" shoots past
with a kazoo-d 60's melody and childlike vocals. These 3 inside 90
seconds and utterly marvellous. Martin and Marilyn Lilya, Kappelv 19,
S-35262, Vaxjo, Sweden.
Aerial M, Post Global Music (Domino) CD
This is a remix thingy with versions by Flacco, Tied & Tickled Trio,
DJ Your Food and Bundy K Brown. The Flacco mix is quite guitarry but
with a CP-30 burbling its hi hats over the top. Again, the whole
effect is a bit Notwisty cos it's the same kind of Devoish chords. The
last mix, by Bundy, is severely floaty and ambient at the start, all
wispy guitar apreggios and soft maracas. But then the chocolate
thunder strikes and it goes notch filter drum loopy...loopy. Buy this
CD if you like Spiritualized, Notwist or Cell. Don't buy it if you're
looking for classic two minute pop songs. Speaking of which....
(Jyoti)
Vaselines, The Way Of The Vaselines, A Complete History (Sub Pop) CD
I just had to get this when I saw it on CD, I know it's old stuff but
so what? It's a great comp, with a foreword by Eugene himself. Classic
pop songs like "Monsterpussy," "Rory Rides Me Raw," "Dying For It" and of
course the originals of "Molly's Lips" and "Son Of A Gun," as covered by
some band from Seattle. Listening to this (along with "Singles Going
Steady") makes me realise what's missing from most contemporary guitar
pop/rock. Feeling, meaning, a sense of humour and grace. I better stop
now before someone mentions Bogshed again. Buy this album if you've
ever pogoed in your bedroom. Don't buy it if you don't like songs
about rudies and pubies. (Jyoti)
Super Collider, It won't be long (Loaded) 12"
A twisted pastiche of Prince croons as two horny hogs make noisy bacon
and a methodical lumberjack chops down a very thick tree with a very
blunt axe. Extraordinary. Remixes from Midfield General and Buckfunk
3000.
Grind, Best of (J-Bird) CD
Reviews of this album seem to have reached a concensus opinion that
Grind are fans of Paul Westerberg and it has to be said that there's
plenty to support the view that the ex-Replacement would figure high
in their list of musical heroes. However, across the 23 tracks culled
from 6 albums, there's a lot more besides: try Pete Shelley and Elvis
Costello with out of control vocal chords, or Grant Hart's Husker Du
songs played on a cranky acoustic or, better, by a cabaret band or a
trashy basement trio. Listen to a quirky Gary Numan or the
schizophrenic swagger of Talking Heads battling with the grandiose
structures of ELO and Roy Wood's genius arrangements. This is the
sound of a band with a short attention span and the talent to do it
justice. jshore@lakefield.net www.lakefield.net/~jshore/grind
Blackalicious, A2G (Mo Wax) 12"
Seven tracks of quality hip hop with the vocal dexterity and lyrical
eccentricity of Kool Keith and the production of DJ Shadow's Latyrx
(Lateef guests on one track). Old school is just about
useless as any kind of a guide these days, but insofar as it means an
upfront beat and strong rhymes, this is old school, imagine if De La
Soul had stripped their DAISY vibe of the inane smiles and evolved it
a couple of generations. There's no slack on these cuts and "Alphabet
aerobics," mixed by Cut Chemist, is just about as good as it gets, an
inspired poetry trip on which rapper Gift of the Gab skips through
verses where each word begins with the same letter until the whole
alphabet is done. Stunning.
Black Eyed Peas, Behind The Front (Interscope) CD
This has got slagged a lot by the rock press (what a surprise) but I
love it. It's very, very poppy, nearly every track is a stunna and
they do the 'live band playing hip hop' thing excellently. In fact, I
prefer it to the Roots cos it draws me in more. The lyrics are also
top, very positive and conscious (a bit of an antidote to the Eminem
album) and the flow's cool and smooooov. In sound terms, it's again
like the Native Tongues stuff, with a dash of the Hiero madness. The
production is deliberately trying to place them apart from the retro
g-funk wave that seems to be going on. It's also one of the few
current hip hop albums that doesn't have the Timbaland ghost hovering
over it. Some tracks near the end of the album veer into Fishbone
territory and even Rollins Band but funkier. Buy it if you love De La
Soul, TCQ, Masta Ace or BDP. Avoid it if you're looking for something
nastier. (Jyoti)
Mothers Against Sex Association, Pause (Hiljaiset Levyt) 7"
Chewbacca with laryngitis appears to front this seething bunch of
Motorhead-loving Finns playing a far-out tribal distort/perv blues
that recalls a less winding Warser Gate or a fired-up Jon Spencer as
Beefheart. PO Box 211, 33201 Tampere, Finland www.hiljaiset.sci.fi
Atari Teenage Riot, 60 second wipeout (DHR) CD
Same shit, different day, a slogan stuck above the desk of
thousands of dissatisfied 9-5ers, dissatisfied with work, life,
society, government, their lot, you name it, but also apathetic enough
to do precisely nothing about it. Enter Atari Teenage Riot, several
orders of magnitude beyond dissatisfaction and well into intense rage
of the bile-splitting, spleen-venting variety and intent on putting
the world to rights through direct action and distortion, rampaging
beats and shouted polemics. Current single "Revolution action" is
their call to arms, "Western decay" their diagnosis and "Anarchy 999"
their prescription, all accompanied by the amplified sound of Satan
loudly evacuating his bowels. It's riotous stuff and easily the equal
of previous releases but nothing significantly new, which leaves us
with the ironic outro: same shit, different disc.
60Hz, Double zero/UK fresh (Second Skin) 12"
"UK fresh," the press release says, is a devastating example of nu
skool breakz...a term I'm still not entirely sure about. What is
sounds like is seething, dirty electro noise pumped up by a sparse,
rigid breakbeat. Kraftwerk from the dark side on steroids. BLIM sticks
the boot in on remix duty, reverting to a more straightforward electro
template but losing none of the seedy gutter vibe.
Chasm/Bannlust, split (FatCat) 12"
Episode number 5 in the FatCat shared vinyl series, this 12" sees
Chasm (Robert from Loop and, latterly, Main) on one side and Bannlust
(Marco of Science City) on the other. The Chasm side is built from,
well, not exactly found sound, more constructed
sound---deliberate taps, scrapes and rubs of unlikely materials
recorded and treated---stitched together in a beaty way. Like a
stripped-back Funkstorung perhaps, or a particularly weird Herbert
moment. It's spacious stuff, as are Bannlust's 3 tracks, although
probably less so, being, inasmuch as it's possible to say this, more
traditional and in the mould of mellow Autechre moments. There's
always a beat to nod along to and often other cracked samples to
thicken things up.
Crazy Penis, A Nice Hot Bath with....(Paper Recordings) CD
I've had this CD for a while now so I can unashamedly recommend it.
It's nine sublimey bopping choons lasting around seventy minutes. The
feel is sort-of Fila Brazillia/Pork Records stuff but is peraps a bit
more mainstream poppy, which is fine by me. I guess you'd broadly call
it house but definitely towards the funky end rather than
four-on-the-floor stomping. Just the swing of the tracks makes you
want to dance. My fave overall track is number two, "Do It Good". This
is just an amazingly stomping groove. It starts off with cross-mod
squeals over a resonant pad and then this horn stab comes in. Then a
huge squelchy bass coupled with a lovely tight beat. I'm not lying
about this track - it's pure pop. If this got used on a telly ad
somewhere or borke on the radio, it'd be an instant hit.
The rest of the album's just as bum-shaking, in various different
styles. "Omega Man" has got some suitably haunting strings at the
start and a darker beat. "A Little Something" is just very summery and
floaty. Makes you wish you were floating on a luxury yacht
somewhere... niiice...Overall, it's probably more jazzy than average,
whilst still remaining house (ie, it's not as jazzy as Fourtet or as
experimental as Slicker). But just to prove they don't take themselves
too seriously, there's a *ahem* appropriate sample at the end of
"3Play It Cool." I won't say what it is here cos they'd get their
arses sued. Buy this CD if you loved the Air, Daft Punk, Money Mark
albums. Avoid it if you hate "bleepy bedroom dance music shite".
(Jyoti)
Ceramic Hobs, Psychiatric underground/72 hour drink binge (Pumf)
CD/7"
Mark E. Smith's evil twin brother, Wilbur H. Smith, obviously didn't
make it out the other side, remaining trapped somewhere in Blackpool
providing demento vox for a bunch of deranged clangers going by the
name of Cermaic Hobs. As is usually the case in these doppelganger
sibling scenarios, ME and WH were separated at birth and share many
personality traits but differ in some vital ones, these being the vile
reflection of good in one as bad in the other. After separate
upbringings, we join the story 20 years down the line etc etc etc. The
commonalities between the two are a Fall-like backing band who favour
abstraction, noise, chaotics, lumber, clatter, hiss, howl, jowls,
crashes, lurches, angularity and the annoying habit of being
completely shit one minute and truly incredible the next; visionary vs
idiotic lyrical outpourings and a seemingly limitless capacity for
lexical tomfoolery. On the cracked inverse side, MES has released an
album a year for the last one million years while WHS has released one
album this year containing a million songs; MES has better microphones
and MES undertands the word restraint, just. Stanzine
Publications, 25 Ivy Avenue, Blackpool, FY4 3QF.
Dawn of the Replicants, Wrong town, wrong planet, three hours late
(EastWest) CD
There's something intrinsically strange and twisted about DotR. It was
there even way back on the "So far, so spitfire" 7" that kicked things
off for them and it's a credit to their (double) vision that it's
still here now after a couple of years on a major label and the
release of around a million songs a week over that time. Having
listened to the new album several times an image is beginning to form,
a picture story that explains the sounds...Paul Vickers uses
hallucinogens and a satanic thesaurus to conjour up some Dadaist
lyrical mismatchery then wanders out to the cages at the end of his
garden in which the rest of the band live, cramped wooden cubes filled
with broken instruments and 4-track recorders with missing knobs. He
gives each of them a sheet of lyrics, pours a little water into their
bowls, switches tapes between all the recorders and promises food the
following day...if they're good. This goes on for several months after
which he collects all the tapes, adds his vocals, mixes down and
catches a train to London to present EastWest with a new record. And
if it's a little more straightforward than the last one, it's only
because he's stopped using the worming tablets.
Various,Mini-Krautrock (Mini Drivers) TAPE
A bunch of, mostly French, bands offering their own varieties of
K-rock and its later derivations comprise this debut release for the
Mini Drivers label. Normal compilation rules apply, away goals count
double: The Ghor Experience from Canada opt for a tinny proto-Depeche
Mode development of the synth formula while Madrid's "Moonlamb" is
more on the space side of things with obvious echoes of MBV; "Arnold
willy" by Snark drops a dose of dub under distorted rumbling beats and
is followed by Dave's Infusion doing a similar thing in a tribal
Can/junglist manner with ambient noise. Snark's second offering,
"Jeopardy," is a clockwork toy and Casio sonnet and NetBEUI round off
the first side with a dark and broody electronic hum. The uppers on
side 2 come from Dub Printing Fingers' "Juicy magnetic lemons," an
itchy grumble of typewriter percussion and vibes wrapped up in a coat
of buzz; Perspex coerce the buzz onto a sine wave and cycling synth
before TG give us some old school Pram sounds in "Il est tard" and
Snark wobble like Holger Czukay playing windchimes in a storm. So,
it's Krautrock in the widest sense, the bands inspired by the breadth
of the original genre rather than the recent journalistic revival of
the term. If you're expecting 20 tracks of Stereolab Jr, this is not
for you. Singel 26b, 1402 NT Bussum, Nederlands burntzine@hotmail.com
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