Singles Round-Up: May-July 2005
1/5
By: Toby L
Things remain hippy-dippy-trippy-slightly-insippy(-id) in Lemon Jelly land, where samples float and gracefully flutter in an inconsequential, duffed-up-in-an-asylum-or-granny-home type of bliss. 'Make Things Right' (*** - XL) is more of the same from our favourite boffin duo, but proves difficult to deny or suppress in any facet of its foamy euphoria kick. The Faint, meanwhile, prove their 'Desperate Guys' (**** - Saddle Creek) status, clinging to their synths and brooding stares, and forcing us to remember that they were doing the Duran-eighties kick aeons (OK, well, a couple of years at least) before any of the present upstarts were able to. Lazy Interpol, however, disappoint, by proffering a re-release of an already-hit-single - 'Slow Hands' is a four-star single sadly this time chastised for its hasty cash-in re-packaging (*** - Matador). Even a new recording or reworking would have sufficed.
Bernard and Brett have snogged and made up, and here's 'Lovers' (*** -Independiente): their sexy, second single from comeback LP, 'Here Come The...'. Like prior 45, 'Refugees', it's not actually that bad - ultimately Britpop, and gushing, but with such searing guitar lines and heady, poppy hysteria, we'd have to be a bunch of cartoon-monkeys / Damon Albarn to slag it. Beck ('Girl' - **** - Geffen) is better, though - 'Girl' is a wistful, acoustic-driven folk-a-funk piece that'll satisfy your yearning loins and serenade your heart, and perhaps boasting Hansen's most shamelessly accessible chorus to date. Summer-time sass, and unashamedly too. The Kooks are on the same pills, seemingly - 'Eddie's Gun' (**** - Virgin) is a bustling Libs-y pop tune with a smack of the anthem about it; chirpy, hammering chords crash against wailing vocals and distinctly 'snappy' rhythms, and we go wild. The (only) slightly edgier whiff of leather jackets and Marlboro Lights about it'll ensure the sweet sixteens and thirty-somethings alike are enthralled.
'C-C (You Set The Fire In Me)' (**** - Tummy Touch), the latest from Tom Vek, entranced us winningly; Vek may have yet to set alight the charts, yet his potential placement in the indie disco and fancy apartment boudoirs of up-and-coming yuppie city types remains unrivalled. This is wobbly, whirring indie pop with a keyboard-samples splashed edge that'll knock yer for six. Or seven. Death From Above 1979 surprise us all, meanwhile, by writing a song that isn't any of the following: two-piece driven, ball-breaking noise-funk-punk racketeering with breakneck vocals. Actually, we tell a lie. 'Black History Month' (*** - 679) is all of the previous (check out also the stunning Bloc Party cover 'Luno', on the b-side). 'Glamstar' (* - Vertigo) by The Black Velvets. Pur-lease. Trash-metal cocking about that's hardly past its sell-by date because, with riffs this hackneyed, it never had one.
Green Day continue their self-righteous but enlightened career reawakening with 'Wake Me When September Ends' (*** - Reprise), a bit wetter than our prior offerings, with Billie-Joe offering a nursery rhyme whine over twinkling acoustic-then-blast-off-rock-about gallivants. 'Loaded Gun' (**** - Deltasonic) by erstwhile emergent ska-ites Dead 60s is more summer joy, with pulsing rhythms and inspired vocal gymnastics. God bless the Scouse. 'The Boxer' (*** - Virgin) sees The Chemical Brothers reunite avec Tim 'Charlie' Burgess, and it's a ragged vocal assault from our favourite Manc-boy-turned-LA-smoothster over more of the Chems' trademark noisy beats and bass farts.
Demeter (*** - Ark) proffer seriously slinky, sleazy, punk-trance fuelled sass and smut in 'Pleasure Island', inclusive of a 'Parental Advisory'-assisted bunch of video footage. Saucy, and advised viewing / listening. Spoken-word success of 2004-5 thus far, the extremely yummy MIA emits 'Bucky Done Gun' (XL - ****) - something as sleek and decent and banging as one'd hope from a flowing-locked hype-ee from ole Blighty. The States are devouring this 'tude-ridden dancey shit. So are we. Brendan Benson does the cutesy card with 'Cold Hands (Warm Heart)' (*** - V2), not a Jack White-ism in sight; instead, woozy pop and warming vocals from a Detroit mainstay and precious little else, which is refreshing.
Our genre geneticists have been stymied by this one (Clor - 'Outline' - Parlophone - ****). A crossbreed of the Lightning Seeds and the Scissor Sisters wouldn't really be that close. But maybe... if the (presumably already rather messed-up) offspring had been dropped on its head at birth, and developed a subsequent affinity for dance music... you might be close to creating Clor. Congratulations! The Clor-creature is certainly a unique one. This is half-crazed synth-pop, with the kind of body-jerking pulse the world wrongly assumed deceased along with the death of the 80's. One of its best features is that it's equally essential and revelatory in the bedroom and on the indie dancefloor. Even better: it'll make you dance like a loon in either venue. So for once all that the hyperbole-machine has told you is true. And in place of a rather elusive pigeon-hole, we'll just call it what it is: bloody marvellous.
Think Jo Whiley's 'Single Of The Week' (Hipslinky - 'Had It Occurred To You?' - Genius Twin Records - ****), day-time adverts to Actimal and Flora and the drive-time smash that finally kicks away bloody Maroon 5... Yes, life is for living! Etc. And the month of August should be dedicated in honour of Hipslinky's first single to be lifted from only their second album. A skirt-ruffling, giddy-headed, delight of a number. 'Had It Occurred To You' will provoke you to run frivolously 'round and 'round a park tree till you think you may well be sick on yourself with joy.
This will be the anthem that brings the students back to the city (Dogs - 'Selfish Ways' - Island - ***). If this isn't pouring out of every indie-disco 'round the land as the leaves turn crimson... by God, we'll eat our own headphones. Sceney enough to get the Hoxtonites jiggling, but with some genuinely sassy riffs and oh so original chorus lines so that the rest of the world don't roll their eyes deep, deep into the back of their heads at yet another Libertines-esque rehash. Go on... learn all the words before your mates and catch them at one of their never-ending 'all-dayers' in the East End. A floaty, fragile yet surprisingly ordinary debut from Espers ('Riding/Under The Waterfall - **), Wichita's latest project. 'Riding' does exactly that, it rides along, not really going anywhere, and erstwhile repeating a similar vocal plot over again before limping into a strange guitar solo. 'Under The Waterfall' is a surprising contrast - melancholic and harmonious, suggestive of the same foreign far away land taught about by Jethro Tull some time in late 1967... but claret-clear production means this double-A side doesn't even get a look into the future.
Say clap? Clap Clap. Jitterbugging around the dancefloor, polka-dot knickers in the air, pantaloons a'waving (The Features - 'The Way It's Meant To Be' - Island Records - ****). This is fun, spiky and fresh. Quoted as being the Deep South's 'answer to the Kaiser Chiefs'. We fully agree. This is a pants-slappingly swift two minute single from their debut album 'Exhibit A' released back in lamb season. Don't worry, it'll no doubt do the rounds, again. A funky disco organ and kick drum that pulses the liquid in the veins through your eyes... one feels accosted, confronted yet pleasured; finding themselves aghast at the end of this brief, but addictive boogie-woo swept up and thrown back (knees not together) on some unsuspecting sailor's lap. My, my, what would your grandmother say... Thunderous, rolling levels and depths of sound (Mew - 'Apocalypso' - Evil Office/Sony BMG - ****) - phenomenally, exquisitely beautiful - layered and laced and smothered again. Driving guitars and racing drums are accompanied by such frail, innocent vocals - poetic words of love and mysterious narrative. Gentle chimes, moon-to-the-stars/synth effects swallow you deep and lose you in this land of resonance. Masterful. Truly absorbing. And Danish, huh (more of which shortly...)?
Be honest, the chorus is the only bit in a song you impatient little tykes like anyway, isn't it? Verses are tedious, although you can just about stand the middle-eight because it at least hints that there's another one of those lovely choruses on the way. Well, bully for you then, as here's a song with three of them (Alterkicks - 'Oh, Honey' - Moshi Moshi - ***). Three pretty good ones, too - a trio of sections each strong enough to be the basis of a more mediocre but nonetheless passable composition, you have to admire the Alterkicks' gall at slapping them all together and forming something quite this infectious. It'll win no prizes for originality, but gets a splendidly garish rosette from us for the stylishness of its scratchy, jangling and curiously tuneful portrayal of clued up, indie know-how.
It's a good thing, upon occasion, when a rock song has absolutely nothing to say (The Blue Van - 'Revelation of Love' - TVT - ***). 'Revelation of Love' is just one such occasion. In truth, there's no revelation here. Having come to these shores from colder climes, where time moves more slowly (Denmark), the sound they've forged sounds remarkably akin to that manufactured in these more temperate isles thirty years past. Our xeno-mocking apart, though: this is good stuff. Seemingly, The Blue Van have no idea they're somewhat treading on histories feet. The Animals-like riffery trudges and swirls, whilst the cocksure vocal sings something or other about 'falling back to you' and 'revelations'... but we're not really listening. What really has our attention is that organ. It's the same one the Charlatans tried to resurrect, but could only ever make sound mildly mournful... but here it's the backbone of the song and the swing in their swagger. So let's refresh. Organs. Animals. Denmark (not for the first time in this batch of reviews). And really rather good fun.
Alfie ('Your Own Religion' - Regal - ***). This song couldn't be any more, well, Alfie. The baritone laziness of Lee Gorton's vocals continues to amicably invite you in, before falling asleep over a warm cup of cocoa. The backing is typically accomplished, but its mixture of kicking guitars and fuzzy harmonies somehow blend into one another; the parts so colourful woefully turn to grey. To any existing fan of the 'fie, this is yet another great track. Indeed, to any newcomers (where have you been?), don't let our disappointment cloud your judgement. It's simply that we've been here before, and Alfie, we still expect so much of you. Perhaps too much. If only (Morning Runner - 'Gone Up In Flames' - Parlophone/Faith & Hope - ***). If only the world was fair, we'd all be giving Morning Runner much more than the time of day. Perhaps even three minutes worth of proper listening time, in which we would be treated to 'Gone Up In Flames'' sweeping melodies, a vocal somewhat akin to the Keane's, Coldplay's and Snow Patrol's, but a little hoarser around the edges (this, in our books, is a good thing), and a decent pummelling of the indie-rock-pop genre and piano keys. A fair old look-in at the charts proves a certainty.
Editors - the British Interpol it's alright to like, since most of the 'Pol's influences are, well, British - throw up their third single to press, and continue to chillingly delight. 'Blood' (**** - Kitchenware) is more sweeping chords, boomy vox, and - surprise of all surprises - haunting melodrama that'll upset even the kids whose dreams have already been shattered. There's beauty in this, though. The Yards are far more retrospective in their leanings, however; the hallowed days and psyche of Buffalo Springfield are evoked, and 'Forget Your Regrets' (** - download) is not half trad. We much prefer the onslaught of Part Chimp: utterly tuneless, quite pointlessly loud, and able to muster a wall-of-feedback drudgery that'll prompt riots. No two ways about it. 'War Machine' (*** - Rock Action) rocks.
The Chalets ('Feel The Machine' - *** - Setanta) may well've been described by Miss Elton of John as 'very good... energetic rock 'n' roll' recently, but don't be perturbed; theirs is a freakily poppy bounce that's both infectious like an epidemic and hastily paced. More old-school, non-pretentious pop revelry, we could stand to live with. Lauded newcomers Broken Dolls (*** - Southern Fried) rope in hotshot producer boff Jim Abiss (DJ Shadow, Editors, Kasabian) on their debut, double a-side 'Rock & Roll' / 'So Good For Me'. And do a fine job, although do prove a bit non-descript. Unlike pop-punk-emo-whatever OC combo Good Charlotte, who just sounded pastiche-loaded. 'The Chronicles Of Life & Death' (* - Epic) is more over-emotive pomp from the whiny-accented Bravery-look-alikes. Thank God for Hull, then. And The Paddingtons. '50 To A £' isn't especially mesmerising, nor veering too far from London-centric scrappy-punk/pop derivation, but it's at least energetic. Another northern buzz act, Bromheads Jacket are part of the flock of acts from Yorkshire to wind up the southern pansies. 'Woolley Bridge' (*** - Lacuna) is a competent, sprightly debut - chipping guitars and proficient vox, and some youthful fervour that's been amiss in the past 12 months or so.
Anuva new'un - Tsar ('Band - Girls - Money - * - TVT) are embarrassing. The press-release quotes one member of this lot being a fan of The Monkees. And you saw that song-title, didn't you? Say. No. More. We'd choose the sultry, slippery, lounge MOR smoothness of Morcheeba any day; they still sound like they're playing their instruments whilst completely knackered, slumbering through 'Lighten Up' (*** - Echo) as stoned and glazed-eyed as a hooded teenager in study leave. Leon have shit luck. Apparently, they were in three car crashes en route to the studio in preparation for their 'Be There' (*** - Freezer) single; suffered two broken limbs; and were forced to relocate to two different studios, following 'police operations'. It's all intriguing. They're also from Derby. The plot thickens. We're especially impressed by the 'f**k it' mentality - fringes of electronica temper brushes of Hammond organ, and it's conclusively not bad. Do Me Bad Things are advocates of the similar 'musical blender' religion, but display less cohesion, despite the caked-on production. 'Move In Stereo...' (** - Must Destroy) is too much - loud, bright and conceitedly unsoulful, it's a true soul-rock palava.
Joey Waronker, the biggest slag, but cool-ass, drummer in present operation, lends his talents to Gavin DeGraw now, an NYC 'troubadour'-type with a penchant for melodic-whimsy sorts of things; 'I Don't Want To Be' (*** - Sony-BMG) is quaint and charming, however. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!! RAVAGE! ANGST!!!!! Etc. Sorry - we've just heard 3 Doors Down ('Let Me Go - * - Universal) and are now in the mood to pummel some boars and eat their simmering carcasses. Burly, and surly, this behemoth nu-metal sludge-core is distressing. And out-dated. Joff Winks Band are, comparatively, finer - 'Someone Else's Words' (*** - JWR) is a timelessly dripping sort of affair, hallmarking more the revered fineries of Neil Young than Fred Durst, hence our relief, post-3DD.
Apartment are slowly enhancing their purified Londonistic, icy Britpop sandwich ('Patience Is Proving' - *** - Fierce Panda), but it's mildly too 2005. Angular, jarring, and quite eighties. But a tune's a tune... Isn't it, Five O' Clock Heroes? Confusingly from both London and New York, these trend-bandits have been hopping aboot for some years now, and it's the present climes that their knack becomes best contextualised. Though they do sound quite samey to a lot of other outfits presently engrossed in leather and smelly, sweaty clubs. 'Head Games' (*** - Glaze) is snappy-enough dancefloor fodder, but it's not pants. I Am Kloot continue their Manc ne'er-do-well status, but with warmth and romance - 'I Believe' is another slice of lo-fi anthem-bliss from the up-norf heart-purveyors. Mighty Six Ninety claim 'Los Angeles is not our home.' Could've fooled us. Their 'Leave This World' (***) is very, archly American. But who's to nark it when tunes are this rampant and taut; no shit their Richard Gardner was born in '77: that year's spirit's all over this City Rockers debut.
Whoa... just four more, then we'll cave in. The Longcut came back favourably with their follow-up to the stupidly promising 'Transition' EP - 'A Quiet Life' (*** - Deltasonic) is just the opposite of its suggestion, ragged and contagious, and somehow peddling a fine line between boogie party anthem, and sterile arty indulgence. It's a good blend. Special Needs proffered further East London rattling - 'Blue Skies' (*** - Poptones) is a tasteful fettle of dirty-guitars and hoarse-vox action, sure to send your haircut flying. Ambulance Ltd further their eloquent, elegant guitarring with 'Primitive (The Way I Treat You)' (**** - TVT), and we defy you to have this nagging series of lines not lodged in your noggin for the remainder of which ever day you finally drag your arse into the shop to purchase said-musical-artefact. Finally, 'Paint Your Target' from Fightstar was better than we anticipated. Shame. We want to hate this rip-roaring slab of screamo-rawk for obvious reasons. But competence can outweigh novelty, children. May we always remember that. It's a valuable lesson.
Reviews: Samantha Hall / Tom Hannan / Kevin Molloy
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