Noise Revival

I remember that while waiting for the Flaming Lips to follow up their universally lauded, and admittedly pretty great, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots I said that I hoped their next album would be a return to their noisier, more experimental roots. This was as much in fear of the day-glo, animal suit wearing, glitter cannon firing ‘weird but cute pop’ side of the band becoming ingrained as it was a desire to hear them actually get back to any kind of Hit to Death in the Future Head style racket. Much as I love that slightly sloppy, very fuzzy, yet still tuneful approach I didn’t really want them to retread old ground. Yet, and I don’t think I was alone in this, it felt very much like the band were in danger of becoming a little stuck in their ways.

The Flaming Lips are a band capable of producing dreamy, symphonic pop songs in their sleep, and the album that followed, At War with the Mystics, confirmed that beyond any doubt. I can’t think of many musical disappointments that live up to the blow to expectations that the  album delivered. To go from one of the most moving and engaging albums of the 90s (The Soft Bulletin as if you didnt know) to the empty, forgettable fare served up on Mystics in the space of just three albums is barely believable. As a recent Pitchfork comment put it, some of the songs sounded “like little more than excuses to shoot off their confetti cannons”. 

It’s heartening then to be able to say that they’ve now made the album I was wishing for before Mystics was released. Embryonic is difficult, experimental, jammy and absolutely bloody wonderfully noisy. What’s perhaps more important is what it’s not. Despite being more of a ‘band’ record than anything they’ve done in quite a while (as wonderful as the Soft Bulletin is, it’s basically a tour de force for multi-instrumentalist Steven Drozd), it isn’t a return to the sound of their earlier records, which however strange were firmly rooted within an ‘indie’-ish form of noise that could sustain comparisons with say Sonic Youth.

No, this is something much less melodic, much more concerned with groove and mood. Driving basslines and clattering drums are the order of the day on many tracks on Embryonic and true to its title some tracks sound almost barely formed, ideas captured as they were happening, lacking the coating of sparkle that the band may have been tempted to coat them with during the Mystics period. This is far from a bad thing however, and it allows the band license to be the most head spinning and innovative they’ve been since Race for the Prize exploded out of your stereo or headphones. There’s barely any concession to the pop audience the band may have acquired since the heady days when a song like Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots Pt 1 could get playlisted on Radio 2.

I’m far from working my way fully into it, but am utterly thrilled that they’ve released a record that makes me want to bother.

@Number 71 also has very positive things to say about the album here.

Rockstar or notstar? Okkervil River, Academy 2, 5/9/09

While tensions mounted in Birmingham over the weekend, we were living and letting live with the wonderful Okkervil River who played what must have been one of the final gigs at Dale End’s Academy 2 on Saturday evening.

This would be my second Okkervil River gig, having seen them (at least until the ridiculous curfew time meant I had to leave early to get home) at Wolverhampton’s Wulfrun Hall last November, so I knew to expect an exhilarating performance.

And it would be an understatement to say that Sheff et al. unreservedly delivered. I’m trying to get to the bottom of why I enjoyed the gig so much, nay, why I thought it surpassed their Wolverhampton gig of ten months before. Perhaps the support act helped – this time, I didn’t feel as if the venue had made some half-arsed attempt to preface the main act with three random acts simply to fill some space in the schedule (I sound bitter. I suppose I am). To be fair, I was excited by the prospect of seeing Dawn Landes (Dawn’s Music is well worth checking out), but her set just, you know, fit! Like the Okkervil River musicians, she and her band were unassuming multi-instrumentalists. Her drummer-cum-harmonica player-cum-bassist and guitarist-cum-bassist-cum-percussionist helped make her well-crafted country-folk pieces as rawkabilly as Neil Young and as ragged as Neutral Milk Hotel.

So we were clearly onto a winner with the perfectly-matched opening set from Landes. But of course, there’s got to be another reason this gig ranks as one of the best I’ve witnessed and I think part of it is down to a skill Will Sheff and the band have for allowing you to indulge in a rockstar performance but without, seemingly, the ego.  Will’s energy was dazzling – he strutted the stage and shared microphones with other band members with the most gleeful smile – his voice was awesome and commanding, and for all I know, there could have been 50,000 people behind me worshipping, awestruck, and clapping in time to ‘Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe’ at his bidding.

That’s not to mention the songs: ‘Plus Ones’, a personal favourite and a great opener, was done complete justice with its gloriously intricate instrumentation of piano and trumpet; the can’t-go-wrong ‘John Allyn Smith Sails’ was an early singalong moment, made all the more gratifying by the unfathomably loud snare hits during the extended ‘Sloop John B.’ outro; and the unashamedly catchy ‘Lost Coastlines’ and ‘Unless It’s Kicks’ had the whole crowd inhibition-free.  But all good rockbands devote part of each gig to the quieter, more introspective moments, where most of the musicians shuffle off while the charismatic frontman holds the audience with an acoustic song or two. Sheff’s performance of ‘A Stone’ adhered to this formula but was heartfelt and truly captivating – proven by the way he’d silenced the crowd by the second verse. Seriously, you could’ve heard a pin drop in the seconds between the last chorus and the final guitar/trumpet instrumental – a special moment!

But of course, this is all a conceit. Although onstage he has the energy and poise of a rockgod, Sheff seems pretty much the antithesis. Unless I’ve a very low standard for rockgods, Sheff’s lyrics are much more considered stories, intricate and alliterative rhymes within lines that seem to act as a counterpoint to the band’s more irresistibly danceable tunes. That’s partly what makes Okkervil River more interesting than most, really; songs that comment on the superficiality of stardom are, in fact, anthemic (take ‘And every night finds us rocking and rolling on waves wild and wide/Well we have lost our way, nobody’s gonna say it outright/Just go laa laa laa…’ from ‘Lost Coastlines’, ‘And I know it’s a lie, but I still give my love/And my heart’s on the line for your hands to pluck off’ from ‘Unless It’s Kicks’, or, of course, ‘The liar who lied in his pop song/And you’re lying when you sing along/Oh yeah, you’re lying when you sing along’). But you don’t feel deceived into falling for the hero-worship Sheff’s commenting on, so much as included in the joke.

And the venue made that easier too. Not being rockgods meant they played at a venue that’s very very small. I was in touching distance of the stage and the sound was loud but very well-balanced. And as if to remind you that they’re not untouchable, the band barely fit onto the stage, Will gestured to himself and the band as he sang of a ‘mid-level band’, and best of all was Will’s rockstar entrance through, um, a squeaky door and clutching a paper plate with a setlist scrawled on it! Charming, in a word.

A lot of what gets said about Okkervil River gigs tends to focus on Sheff, perhaps partly down to the fact that the band’s line up has changed so much, partly because we fall into that frontman worship trap, too. But I don’t think the rest of the (very able and tight) band care about that too much. I’d never seen band members sing along with quite the same show of enjoyment and respect for their songwriter’s work. And to see a band so obviously having a great time on stage is part of the thrill of a memorable gig.

Bits

So I’ve been quite blatantly not posting for quite a while, a state of affairs I’m feeling it may be time to rectify. Expect more waffle-filled, vague thoughts from me on various subjects soon, but for now a few things that I have been concerned with.

News of Brit-pop’s “oh my God, please make it stop!” hangover, Oasis, finally coming to a somewhat undiginified end last week filled me with joy. I’ve long pined for a Noel Gallagher solo album (see the unfathomably unreleased, and excellent, Revolution Song a.k.a Solve My Mystery for an idea of what it might hopefully sound like) and maybe this will prove the kick up the rear end Gallagher senior needs to actually go and make one. Stop posing, we all know we’d love a back-to-form Noel around.

Mount Eerie’s (a.k.a Phil Elverum of Microphones, errm, obscurity) new record, Wind’s Poem is on tentative first few listens a wonderfully thoughtful Autumnal sounding thing that will soon be soundtracking any walk I take through the oncoming cold, wet evenings. Veering between death metal-ish bang and crash and his more usual quiet and calm, I suspect it’s an album that may need repeated listens to unpack, but it seems worth the effort.

The Duckworth Lewis Method ( a.k.a Neil Hannon of Divine Comedy, errm, semi-fame plus some other guy) is, yes, an album about cricket. Lovely pop arrangements, quirky lyrics (name me another album that has anything to compete with a line like “I hate Shane Warne”) and a lot of charm make for a fun listen. Not sure, however, what it says about the whole concept when the best song, The Nightwatchman, is only barely about cricket.

Finally, I’ve put to bed a good few weeks of not being able to concentrate on any fiction by getting stuck in to David Peace’s latest. The second part of his “Tokyo Trilogy” (or “acclaimed Tokyo trilogy” according to the cover. Wouldn’t “Unfinished Tokyo Trilogy” be more accurate?), Occupied City is an intense read that is already haunting my imagination. I’m guessing Peace’s literary ticks (repetition is a, if you’ll excuse me, recurring theme) don’t endear him to all, but the vivid images and an unflinching eye for the darker elements of the human psyche make him an interesting, if unsettling, read.

V for Victory

Two posts on the same day? Yikes! Yet, I feel I must make a small yelp of appreciation for the new record by King Creosote which arrived thanks to pre-order via the ever wonderful Domino this morning. Previous KC release (and last on a major label it would seem), Bombshell, was a shiny, slick thing that seemed to lack something despite having some wonderful songs. Flick The Vs (properly out Monday) in contrast is a return to a more adventurous, much messier sound. And dare I say it, the King sounds much more relaxed and comfortable here amidst the occasional lo-fi electronic beat, bass grooves, bouncing folk and giddy wordplay than with the almost airless radio friendly sheen that appeared on Bombshell. Great stuff.

P.S. On opener No One Had It Better he reprises the “K-I-N-G-C-R-E-O-S-O-T-E Rules Ok With Me” chant that might be familiar for those who’ve seen him play live which made me smile hugely!

What You Want

Occasionally it’s a good thing to get exactly what you want. Challenging art is all well and good but sometimes it’s nice to wallow in something you know and love. So, after two wonderful hazy, dreamy albums of blissful pop it’s great to settle down and listen to a new Papercuts record that doesn’t stray too far from Jason Quever’s winning formula. On those two prior albums, Mockingbird and 2007’s Can’t Go Back, a swirl of out of focus yet beautifully affecting melody was layered over lolloping Ringo Starr-ish drumming and lazy vintage organ chords. It’s a beguiling sound, as much suited to early Spring hopefulness as it is to the wistful feelings of late Summer. Can’t Go Back especially managed to stumble it’s way into my haphazardly drawn up list of personal favourite ever albums, and make this new album, You Can Have What You Want, highly anticipated.

To be fair to Quever, he does tweak the Papercuts sound slightly here. It’s both more dreamy than usual but also in places more focused. The album is probably at it’s most scintillating when it dials down the haze and makes lunges towards a tighter pop sound, such as on Dead Love’s fuzzy lurch or Future Primitive’s bass-led snap. Having said that, some of it’s most amazing and affecting moments are to be found on the more swirly, blurry tracks. The Machine Will Tell Us So rides a gentle downward chord sequence in it’s verses but then blooms into a reverb drenched high of a chorus more than a match for anything on your favourite 60s psych album, Jet Plane’s splashy drummed shuffle fades out on a la-la-la-ing coda that’s so pretty you want it to go on for ten more minutes, and if the opener Once We Walked In The Sunlight at first seems a low-key choice as a first track (especially when compared to Can’t Go Back’s calling card, the galloping Dear Employee), repeated listens reveal a subtle yet hypnotic melody.

I really can’t recommend this album, or this band, highly enough. If you like pretty, dreamy pop songs get all three albums and start anticipating a fourth to wrap yourself in next Summer or the one after.

As the Sun is masked

Expectations can be devastating to how you appreciate something on first look, and even more so if they sneak up on you without warning. At some point after learning that Daniel Dumile’s (aka MF Doom aka Viktor Vaughn aka King Geedorah etc etc) long awaited new album would be released under the alias DOOM (“all big letters/but it isn’t no acronym“), dropping his ‘MF‘ prefix and going boldly all caps with the remainder, my brain made the assumption that this would herald a drastic change in tone, though for the more or less serious I hadn’t decided. Needless to say, with that particular mindset in place, my first listen to Born Like This did not ‘live up’ to expectations.

However, that just proves my point. No, this record doesn’t present a significant change from what has come before – Dumile spits alternately amusing/confusing couplets in a gruff monotone over lo-fi hookless beats assisted by snippets of sci-fi-esque dialogue. So far so every-other-album. Yet, there is a tighter focus to be found here. His flow seems much more considered, packing even more internal rhymes into every line, pulling and pushing against the beat much more effortlessly than before. See the delightful relish with which he rips into the rhyme frenzy of  ”give a MC a rectal hystorectamy/’lectro removal of the bowels foul technically/don’t expect to see the recipe/until we receive the check as well as the collection fee” on the excellent That’s That. Likewise, the production (by Dumile himself, Jake One, Madlib and the late J-Dilla) seems like a fine distillation of all the things that made previous efforts under various aliases so intoxicating. Jake One’s organ and rolling drum break on Microwave Mayo might be one of the best beats Dumile’s ever rapped over, and the much missed J-Dilla’s strange instrumental Lightworks somehow works for Dumile’s jittery, awkward delivery. That Cellz has the audacity to sample a Charles Bukowski (yes, you did read that correctly) reading – the apocalyptic poem Dinosauria, We from which the album gets it’s title – and yet makes it sound like another atypical sci-fi movie dialogue sample, seamlessly blended into the usual college of a Doom record probably says it all about the album’s production. If it grated before, nothing here will convince you, but if you’ve ever found something to love on one of his previous records, this is as concentrated and focused as this type of sound gets.

Sadly, there are a few head scratching moments on this record that prevent it being the gold plated classic comeback it obviously wants to be. The most glaring comes with the objectionable lyrics of Batty-Boys, a track where Dumile sniggers his way through the school-boy-ish suggestion that Batman and Robin may have been more than just crime fighting partners. At best this is an immature re-iteration of a joke that we’ve all heard many times before, at worst it borders on outright homophobia – a disappointment from someone whose comic book alter-egos and pop culture references usually seem to offer relief from some of rap’s more objectionable obsessions. Other missteps occur on the tracks featuring Raekwon and Empress Starhh – perfectly fine performances both, but Dumile himself is a no show, preferring to lurk behind the desk – on his OWN album! Futhermore, Ghostface-featuring track Angelz is lacking in the energy that anyone dreaming about the supposedly forthcoming Ghost/Doom album may be expecting.

Overall though, there’s plenty to love here – a refining of the sound that’s won many fans. If anything it bares comparison with Will Oldham’s constant, yet gradual development of his sound. Both artists don’t pander to anyone’s expectations other than their own, and perhaps that’s for the best.

It’s DOOM…not Doom!

Going to post a review of the new DOOM (formerly MF Doom) album, Born Like This soon, but for the moment – anyone got an idea as to why iTunes won’t let me put DOOM in all caps in the artists field? Hmph.

Feedback Loops

While some folk seem determined to only see the bad side of the internet’s contribution to music consumption, I for one only see upsides. For example, in the grip of a re-emerging Will Oldham obsession, I came across this article on Dusted magazine. Browsing through Oldham’s list of “specifically presented and direct” records lead me to check out his Drag City labelmate Bachelorette on MySpace. Twenty excited minutes later I decided I needed to hear more, a little while after that I’d grabbed her debut album Isolation Loops off Amazon mp3 and part of her first EP off eMusic (my downloads have run out, so will have to wait till next month to get the rest of it. Hmph!). I know it probably has something to do with an inherent impatience in my character, but isn’t it amazing how quickly you can satisfy a need to hear something these days?

Anyway, yes, Bachelorette. It has to be said that Will Oldham has great taste. Bachelorette is the work of one woman from New Zealand. Armed with sumptuous sounding synths, layered self-harmonizing and occasional acoustic flashes, Bachelorette makes some of the most human sounding electronic based music I’ve ever come across. This is truly warm and honest stuff that sounds perfect for the coming Spring. It almost reminds me of an electronic version of one of my favourite bands, Papercuts, who have a new album coming out soon. Ooohs!

Be Aware

Ever since adopting the name Bonnie “Prince” Billy, Will Oldham has seemed to be searching for a balance between the darkness, and occasionally unsettling oddness, of his music with a brighter, more welcoming production style. Whilst 2001’s sexy and relaxed Ease Down The Road may be the most successful of these efforts so far, Bonnie “Prince” Billy Sings Greatest Palace Music might prove the most instructive when approaching his new album Beware. Whilst puzzling on release, and ultimately a mixed bag quality wise, in retrospect Sings… seems indicative of where Oldham’s music was headed. Though there’s been several diversions since that album (including one of my favourites, his collaboration with Matt Sweeney on Superwolf), it certainly set the template for The Letting Go and now, Beware. Though hardcore Palace fans may have despaired at the lush treatment given to some of Oldham’s earlier work on the Sings… album, the approach gives much better returns on his current material. Beware finds Oldham seeming very much at ease over a sea of phased guitar, female harmonies and occasionally even horns. Despite the ever present dark edge to the songs, he sounds, dare I say it, happy on this record. Though his voice has always been fascinating, his performances on Palace recordings could often be said to be almost reticent. Not so any more, here he gives gutsy yet controlled vocals that lend the songs an air of relaxed authority . Oldham’s releases are always interesting, and sometimes amazing, but he now seems to be growing into the role of a genuinely commercially acceptable artist. Though it still seems slightly unlikely, these songs wouldn’t sound out of place on the radio (looking at you Radio 2!), and I for one welcome that.

*UPDATE*

Hm. A few less than stellar reviews here and here. Really have to disagree with both. Dusted makes the link with Sings… but in a negative manner. Can’t help sensing a little ‘indier-than-thou’ lo-fi bias there. Don’t get me wrong, Days in the Wake is a wonderful record, but like all of his ’smaller’ records, it’s not trying to achieve the same things as his ‘bigger’ ones. As for Pop Matters’ attempt to frame it all as contrived – *rolls eyes*

Hello Goodbye

Watch this

Two things…

1) This song’s utterly wonderful. Pre-order the album here.

2) How cuddly is Will Oldham becoming? I want to tickle him!