As the popularity of Buzz Feed has proven, obtuse discussions
about popular culture are one of the world’s favourite pastimes. Whether it’s a
list of the 10 classic episodes of Seinfeld that would no longer work in the
mobile phone era, or a collection of GIFs from Game of Thrones, virtual
audiences can’t get enough.
So when my friend suggested over coffee that Belgium were
the “Alt-J of the World Cup; the hipsters choice for winners” it’s fair to say
that the idea snowballed somewhat. Which team was the best match for Britney
Spears? Which musician embodied the continual heartache that England constantly
put its fans through? And just who the fuck would be Iran? Well fear not - all
these questions are cleared up below.
The origins of this blog were forged over a decade ago. I was a 20 year old boy who had never been laid and was still coming to terms with the death of my sister. I weighed 22 stone, spent my nights drinking in the pub and hid everything under a mask of laughter. I loathed myself and things were about to get worse. One day whilst on my lunch break at work – at the time I was working a dead-end job as a purchase ledger clerk – I received a call.
“Mister Lawson?” asked a calm voice.
“Speaking,” I replied.
“This is Doctor Brookes; I’m in charge of your fathers care. Were you aware that he was admitted to hospital?”
“No, the last update I had was a month ago to tell me that he had gone back into full-time care.”
“I’m afraid to tell you that his condition has been deteriorating for some time and that this morning he collapsed on the ward. He’s stable… for now but it would be best if you could come into the hospital.”
It was a call I had been dreading but not prepared for.
A look at the history of fanzines reveals more about their writers than the music
The first time I encountered a real fanzine was at a festival. I hadn’t slept for 24 hours, was covered head to toe in what I hoped was mud and feeling the satisfying effects of a large amount of gin. Called Applecore, the small, photocopied ‘zine was thrust into my hands by an ordinary looking guy called Henry, cost me £1 and could easily have been mistaken for a school project. I shoved it in my bag, forgot it existed and three months passed before I finally took a closer look at a form of publishing that has become an obsession.
Within its rough A5 pages I found a new form of writing that I had never considered, which paired music opinion and travel in intelligent diary entries, written with a delicate touch. As I read from cover to cover, questions began to reverberate around my mind; what motivated Henry to write about music? At what point between pressing play and the end of a song did he become compelled to commit his thoughts to the page? The subject spiralled out of control and began to broaden. After all, Henry isn’t the only ordinary listener writing about music, heck, all critics start off their career as amateurs. So I decided to take a look at the history of fanzines and their offspring – blogs and webzines – to figure out what inspires ordinary listeners like Henry to pick up a pen in the first place.
Don’t believe what your mum told you, telling lies isn’t bad, it’s an essential part of surviving daily life. Not because we all need to hear little fibs from time to time - “No honey, you don’t look stupid in that” - but because if we didn’t tell ourselves some massive whoppers, life would become an excruciating exercise in futility. How else could we muster the energy to get out of bed, when deep down we know everyone and everything we love will eventually die?
Faced with a truth this bleak, lies (or ignorant acceptance) are wholly preferable. They satisfy our desire to find meaning and are seductive temptation which organised religion has preachedfor centuries. It’s this that forms the beating heart of Youth Lagoon’s ‘Dropla,’ a track which glows in the warmth of heavenly strings, whilst pastor Trevor Powers cleanses your weary soul with every solemn repetition of his sermon, “You will never die.”
Through this affirming baptism, Powers gives you the permission to forget the ugly truth. Providing the strength to face your mortality with dignity and without fear and proving that sometimes a lie is not only more beautiful but more important than the truth.
A few years ago I had a vivid dream about falling down a flight of stairs and breaking my front teeth (just the though of it makes me shudder). It felt so real that even though I’ve made it through 32 years without any such injury, whenever I have walked downstairs since, I feel anxious.
It’s this sort of irrational fear that The Knife’s utterly compelling track ‘Full Of Fire’ feels like. A micro panic attack where normal thoughts suddenly implode and form a tension filled vortex of sawtoothed synths, hidden voices and overbearing rhythms that invade the waking world with every horrific dream you’ve ever had.
Sorting out the details of a wedding is an exhausting process. Like all creative endeavours you start with a daunting blank page, that offers an almost infinite amount of options. Do you want organise the day of your dreams, one that all your loved ones will enjoy or something in between?
It’s a bewildering amount of choice and there is little wonder that couples take years to plan out every little detail. As a newly wed himself – Timberlake tied the knot with Jessica Biel last October – the pop star has used the anticipation of his own nuptials to draw a neat parallel with the excitement of finally releasing new material after a four year wait.
The new track, Suit and Tie, opens with Timberlake psyching himself up, “I’ll be on my suit and tie shit, tie, shit / Let me show you a few things.” A steadying pre-ceremony chant, paired with a deep breath of reversed trumpets and a short pause to steady any nerves before launching into an up-to-date Marvin Gaye number that despite the superfluous efforts of Jay Z, guides the listener on a rousing first dance.
Whilst it’s not quite as thrilling as the first time you heard ‘Future Sex/Love Sounds,’ it’s another high class return from Timberlake, making his proposal to take you on The 20/20 Experience worth accepting.
Metz - The Mule
Given the 20 year anniversary of Nirvana’s Nevermind, it’s perhaps unsurprising that plenty of bands found inspiration from 90s lo-fi bands in 2012. One of the better examples was Canadian post-hardcore trio, Metz. Their excellent self titled debut album offers fans of Fugazi and Lizard Jesus, 11 scuzzed out tracks which aped and subtly modernised the sound of these forebears.
‘The Mule’ is the most immediate of the bunch. Its fleeting run-time is powered by a metronomic rhythm section that creates an overbearing hubbub of bone shattering drums and bass strings pushed close to breaking point. Floating above the din is front-man, Alex Edkins, whose panicked screams sound like Ian Curtis freewheeling a BMX into the fires of hell. Breathtaking.
A few weeks back, [edit] radio named Reading based indie rockers PEERS as our third Rising Talent to follow.
Last week we caught up with the Berkshire based quartet, about what they've been up to over the last couple of years, what's it like being on the same management group as Alt-J and what fans can expect in 2013: The first big break you guys had was to play the BBC introducing stage at 2010s Reading & Leeds Stage, what have you guys been up to since?
We were all pretty excited about playing Reading and Leeds and what would happen after, but realised the best option was to finish off our two years of college and sixth form. Use the time to develop without any pressure into the band we wanted to be, making music we were 100% happy with and playing the odd show in Reading. We didn’t want to rush into releasing anything and regretting it a couple of months down the line, it’s likely what you put on the internet stays there for a very long time.
The most essential material for any artist is a space in which they can work. Whether it be a blank sheet of paper, a roll of unused film or the silence of a room; all creation needs a fertile ground to prosper. For the Animal Collective, the dull concrete of the ‘Warehouse Project’ provides the perfect canvas.
The acclaimed quartet form Baltimore are in town touring their latest album, Centipede Hz, which has (by their standards) met a lukewarm critical reception. From the midst of a set of glowing teeth framing the stage, the group use an assorted collection of snyths, sequencers, drums, guitars and an epilepsy inducing light-show to paint the primary colours of their experimental pop onto the walls of the cavernous room. Indeed such amounts of equipment are rarely seen out of a recording studio and each member looks more like a scientist at work rather than a musician performing live.
Busy opener ‘Rosie Oh’ sets the tone for the evening, groaning under the weight of the energetic sounds which make up it’s whole. Two songs pass by in a dizzying haze before genre bending summer single ‘Honeycomb’ is dropped. It’s warping bass and rhythms triggers a trance like state that carries over into the bouncy ‘Lion In A Coma’ and aggressive ‘Moonjock.’
Throughout, the foursome barely moving from their horseshoe shape stage set up. Normally this sort of performance, or lack thereof, is a turn off, but the complexity of music on offer requires concentration, timing and supreme skill and such musical virtuosity is all the entertainment that’s required.
This juxtaposition of the bands energetic music against their lack of stage physicality results in an unresolved tension. Being slaves to pushing musical boundaries the band are tied to their workspace, effectively creating themselves a cage in which to perform. This tension carries over to the crowd, who in reverence for the artistry on show have remain reserved.
Animal Collective string this tension along until the finale of show, releasing the pressure which has built up in the very air with Beach Boy sounding ‘Brother Sport.’ Avery Tare and Deakin finally break free from their shackles, and dance center stage as if in signal everyone to join in. The release is shattering for mind and body. The anthemic ‘Peacebone’ follows, impossibly ratcheting up the sensory overload in layers of dense samples and cathartic release. Limbs convulse, breathing becomes shallow and sharp, as your eyes widen to a point of no return.
To draw such sensations and life out of the drab surround of the cold surround of warehouse is the province of truly great musicians. Something, least we not forget, Animal Collective have been for over a decade and will continue to be for as long as we’re lucky enough to have them.
When listening to Ellie Goulding’s music, there are two important steps you need to take to get yourself into the right frame of mind:
1.) Disengage brain - Just give yourself five minutes to not criticise, over think or worry if it’s OK to like something so uncool. Just treat Goulding’s dewy eyed pop like National Geographic. Well made, entertaining but ultimately throwaway.
2.) Regress to a the emotional state of a teenager - For those of you still in your teens you’re already there. For those of you born the wrong side of 1993 just remember how watching Ross and Rachel finally kissing in the second series of Friends made you punch the air with joy.
Done both? Then you’re ready to enjoy Goulding’s “Anything Could Happen.” As the standout track from her new album of the same name it’s packed full of sun soaked synths and giddying rhythms which rain down one of the choruses of 2012. One which washes you with wave after wave of ecstasy that allows you to escape the confines of day to day life. Something we all need to do from time to time.
Apart from it’s Festival, the town of Reading isn’t normally considered a hotbed for new music. It certainly is never mentioned in the same breath as it’s more illustrious neighbours of Oxford and London. However over the last decade a bands like Dry The River, Dan Le Sac, Pete and The Pirates and Does it Offend You Yeah! have broken through onto the national airwaves.
The next band which looks set to breakout of the local scene are indie rcokers, PEERS. The quartet, led by Matthew (guitars and vocals), have managed to garner a mass of local support, including high praise from BBC Introducing’s Linda Serck and are the darlings of legendary local promoter Sid Siddle. In 2010 despite all being aged less than 18 and only formed for 6 months, they were asked to play the introducing stage at Reading and Leeds.
Since then their sound has evolved and recent demos show significant promise. On ‘Guilt’ there’s more than a hint of the subtle song structures used by The Maccabees on their latest album, Given To The Wild. All that’s missing is the gut wrenching oomph that working with a full blown producer would add.
On ‘Midnight,’ the bands other major influence, Bombay Bicycle Club can be heard. Here PEERS marry the deftly sweet but never quite sickly pop of Steadman with a slightly more straightforward rock sound. With the catchy as all hell ‘Nightdriving’ (free download below) PEERS shoot straight for the airwaves of Radio 1, with an ear-worm of a chorus that fosters moments of involuntarily singing for days on end.
It’s probably a little too early to tell just how far they’ll go, but PEERS, who share managers with Alt-J, look to have the talent to become the next band to go nationwide from Berkshires famous festival town.
Andrew Falkous has always been a likable asshole. A Charles Bukowski of music, retaining an unhealthy distaste for everything and (nearly) everyone. Delivering compelling insights into the paradoxes of human nature, politics and opinions of the wider public.
On ‘Robocop 4 - Fuck Off Robocop,’ he’s at his vitriolic best, dissecting the cause of Hollywoods obsession with sequels. Like Bukowski, he puts forward an exaggerated character to his audience. A hyper macho lunkhead, full of vitriol but intelligent and engaging. A vessel through which he delivers visceral, darkly humorous and thought provoking lyrics.
The first half of the track is deliberately obtuse. Awkwardly lurching from verse to verse of anger directed at the movie going public, “Middle aged men on a movie date, committed to mortal shame, Hey! Relax! No-one died - in fact, they left improved! If Michael Bay wants a bigger house, let's help him.” In the hands of another songwriter, the subject matter would’ve ended in a four letter tirade at Hollywood movie for pandering to the masses, but that just isn’t Falkous style.
At the fulcrum of the track, Falkous highlights the real problem. Hitting out at those who complain about Hollywood only making sequels, but then perpetuate the problem by going to watch Taken 2, “1 becomes 2, 2 becomes 3.” Describing how our desire to seem interesting extends to lying (to ourselves) about the diminishing returns that most sequels offer. Then lampoons his own point by launching into absurd tirade about the potential plot for “Pirates of the Caribbean 47” that if distilled to a movie trailer would entice with it’s promises of entertainment.
Like any piece of effective social commentary, the track lifts the mirror on an ugly symmetry. That our actions as a collective consumer group are to blame to the state of Hollywoods output. It’s a disquieting thought, the sort that only a particular kind of bastard has the balls to articulate.
During a scene of his directorial debut film, Garden State, Zach Braff’s lead character, Largeman, describes how the meaning of “home” changes. Theorising that once you leave and enough time passes “home” becomes a fictionally positive memory of a place and people that no longer exist. That longing for it to be “the way it was” isn’t healthy and you have mould a new idea of home wherever you are. It’s an effecting scene, simple but disquietingly honest which cuts to the heart of why nostalgia can be a cause of a great damage to the present.
Bat For Lashes (AKA Natalie Khan) tackles nostalgia in a similar fashion for her latest single, Laura. Instead of Braff’s existential approach, Khan embodies her own youthful ideas of nostalgia using a protagonist of whom she sings about with a sorrowful admiration. Fondly remembering the effervescence and devil may care attitude of the hollow plaudits that she and her friends used to through around, “You’re more than a superstar.” Then admitting to a combination of Clockwork Orange esq nihilism “And in this old horror show,” and self loathing “Let’s sing along to that lonely song." Bundling this parable in a composition as simplistic as Braff’s scene, which after multiple listens become no less disquieting and even more haunting.
Laura is taken from Bat For Lashes forthcoming new Album, The Haunted Man which is out on October 15th
Daniel Rosen’s distinctive guitar work and satisfyingly complex songs structures have always given Grizzly Bear’s subtly crafted music an holistic quality. Creating a metaphysical space in which the listener can explore the connection between all things; be they man made, natural, spiritual or imaginary. A sensation not unlike staring into the depths a clear lake. Where your eye’s can see all the way to the riverbed, able to focus on the individual depths of detail, without losing the sense of the whole. So when Grizzly Bears newest track, ‘Sleeping Ute,’ threatened to disturb this delicate ecosystem with an ambitiously loud and vibrant new direction, a feeling of great unease swept over me.
The track opens in a bombast of Rosen's guitars, which expand and contract over dense percussion in beguiling fashion. The sound is bold but never overreaches, confidently replacing the vocal harmonies of classics like, ‘While You Wait For the Others’ or ‘Central and Remote,’ with all manner of layered instruments to elevate the soundscape. Whilst the change is initially jarring and will catch fans off guard, it's worth sticking with. As after repeated listens the beautiful mannerisms and charm of Grizzly Bears music reveal themselves to be unharmed and even more pronounced. Evolving to exciting new highs for a band who were already very easy to admire.
2012 has been a year of reinvention for Cloud Nothings. In January the Ohio quartet, led by Dylan Baldi, released Attack On Memory, their third album in 18 months. The record signaled a shift in direction, moving away from the comfort of indie-pop to a dark, uncompromising and at times ambitious punk sound. It was a bold move which paid dividends. Earning the album a string of high review scores and new army of fans.
Six months on, Cloud Nothings are still riding the wave of hype and are about to embark on a world tour. Before the last show of their UK tour, [edit] radio caught up with Baldi in the paint cracked dressing room of the Leeds based, Brudenell Social Club, to grab a chat about Attack on Memory, the Queens diamond jubilee and a Japanese cafe where you can pay to stroke cats.
The music Liars make isn’t the easiest to get into. The bands use of textures and rhythm has an obsessive-compulsive quality that makes them sound regularly irregular. As if to accentuate their peculiarity, with each new album Liars choose to completely reinvent their sound. This approach allows them to embark on new creative challenges and find new ways of expressing artistic themes, making their discography a genre hopping tour de force. On the evidence of No.1 Against The Rush, the first single from their new record WIXIW, the band show no sign of settling just yet.
In a recent interview the bands chief songwriters, Andrew Angus and Aaron Hemphill, admitted that WIXIW was emotionally fueled by the beginning and end of the two’s respective relationships. It’s a clever theme, as there is an undeniable duality between the two states of union. A duality in which uncertainty holds sway, where you’re kept awake a night wondering about what to do next. Where to go on the second date? What can I do to keep them from slipping away? It’s this sickly unease that No.1 Against The Rush deftly replicates.
By recording the new album using primarily modern electronic methods and eschewing the familiarity of the analogue instruments, Liars have engineered the perfect sonic palette to express this anxiety. For fans, this change is disarming, but in a good way, as it’s made Liars more accessible than ever. Initially, it may seem that this accessibility has come at the cost of the creativity for which they’re famed, but after multiple listens No.1 Against The Rush reveals it’s secrets. Taking little time for its meticulous arrangement of throbbing bass, sweeping synths and rotating blips to hit home with waves of unease that reverberate in the psyche. Proving that despite taking steps towards a more accessible sound, Liars remain one of the most challenging and exciting bands around.
Wake up, check phone, check Facebook, check emails, check Twitter, wait 10 minutes then check again. That’s the cyclic pattern of the omnipresent connectivity that we’ve allowed to take over our lives. An addiction to the instant gratification of having all our friends with us, all the time. It’s this structure of life played out in the virtual beehive that Animal Collective’s latest track Honeycomb embodies.
Like most Animal Collective tracks, it defies simple genre definition. Its warped yet geometric rhythms, melting bass lines and mixture of samples with other techniques too numerous to mention, only reveals its delights with multiple listens. Floating above this order masquerading as chaos are Avey Tare’s vocals, which find that sweet yet modern Beach Boy sound that has become the hallmark of Animal Collectives recordings. His simple repetition of “How many times you say” with it’s variant endings give the listener a framework in which to process the tracks complexities, a thread that they can confidently identify, helping them to process a recording which can at times overwhelm. It’s a skill Animal Collective have mastered and one which puts them amongst a select group of musicians. Those who make music thats equally stimulating and entertaining.
In full flow the track is an addictive delight that's suffused with a claustrophobia inducing quality; and it’s this duality that brings to mind the modern hyper connected life. A synthetic world which we willingly submit to for its ease, entertainment and comforting qualities. Knowing that every new friend request, follow and message erodes our privacy. Maybe it’s this reason that we all take liberties with the truth on the net? We’re busy painting over the grey truths of a mundane life in technicolour. Resulting in a hive of memories and friendships of how we’d like to be seen, rather than who we really are.
It was January last year when Purity Ring first wowed the blogosphere with their debut “7, Ungirthed. On the release, the bands sound was still very much in its embryonic phase; exciting but a little heavy handed and searching for a sweet spot. The Canadian duo’s mix of Corin Roddick’s production of throbbing synths, jittery Hip Hop percussion and washed out vocal samples provided an unlikely canvas for Megan James sweet but never sickly voice. The temptation to cash in on the modicum of attention that had come their way must have been intense. Indeed the normal response of bands and labels these days is to prematurely release an album. Purity Ring didn’t and it’s to their lasting credit.
Over the following seven months they dropped off the radar and apart from a few remixes very little was heard of the band. Then in September, they unleashed Belispeak on a spilt single with dream poppers Braids. This time round, Roddick’s production sounded more confident; bolder in its use of vocal samples and imparted James sugary tones with a sinister edge normally associated with Swedish electronica champions The Knife. The blogosphere went equally nuts, the buzz grew surely an album was just around the corner?
It’s taken another six months and finally Purity Ring are prepping the release of their debut album, Shrines, on July 24 via 4AD and Last Gand Records. The albums lead single, Obedear, shows that the duos incremental improvements have continued. With Roddick continuing to pair back any superfluous production, making them sound agile, lean and even more menacing than before. In taking that year to tinker instead of rushing their debut, Purity Ring’s patience has given them the chance to create an edgy pop sound, that’s equally ready for radio play and the critics pens. A combination which gives them a shot of lasting in an industry famous for eating it’s young.
To the untrained ear, Japandroid’s brand of highly distorted power punk is the perfect excuse to label them as one of the those “wanky bands,” that music critics purr over and hipsters say they love. In most preconceptions there is normally an element of truth, but forming your opinion of Japandroid’s before you’ve listened past the hype would be foolhardy; because this Vancouver duo write some of the most life affirming music around.
Their newest track, ‘The House That Heaven Built,’ is no different and is a sign that their soon to be released sophomore album, Celebration Rock, has built upon the sturdy foundations laid by ‘2010s excellent single ‘Younger Us.’ Whilst sonically, they’re still working within the same palette, this time every fuzzy guitar hook, vocal snarl and drum thud finds the perfect balance between sounding crisp without losing any of the lo-fi power that make all their records so vital. The track is unceasing from its opening bar and screams for your attention. Making obedient soldiers out of the hairs on the back of your neck, in the same way as the iconic folk punk anthems of Frank Turner.
Lyrically it manages keeps apace, capturing the sense of defiance you feel as you try to move on from a past love. When vocalist, Brian King, growls the end of the chorus “If they try to slow you down, tell em all to go to hell” you can feel his sentiment gathering strength with each repetition. This builds to the songs only moment of respite, when King delivers the devastating coup de grâce, “It’s a lifeless life, with no fixed address to give, but you’re not mine to die for anymore, so I must live.” Each line is delivered with a draining commitment that never sounds contrived or anything less than utterly honest. Which is gloriously ironic for a band so easily accused of pandering to the tonal artifice of the hipster elite.
The House That Heaven Built is out on Polyvinyl Records May 15, Pre Order Here
Alexis Taylor’s voice has consistently been an under utilised weapon in the Hot Chip arsenal. The cool detachment and lonely quality of his delivery is often at odds with the bands uptempo songs, requiring extensive tailoring before the musical fit becomes perfect. On their new track, “Flutes,” Taylor and the rest of Hot Chip have finally found the confidence to build a dance floor hit around his tonal qualities.
The 7 minute track builds its foundation upon a masterful use of repetition and layered sound, which represent more than just a set of highly danceable textures. From the outset, the tracks indecipherable yet rhythmic chanting symbolises a mind searching for a higher meaning and answers to the fear inducing, existential questions that can never be resolved. A set of neurotic half thoughts, where you lose faith in lovers, in friends or worse still, life as a whole. Where each layer of throbbing synth and samples begins to hypnotise and encircle the listener with these worries, eventually forcing an acknowledgement that some things are out of your hands.
It’s as if Taylor and co have figured out how to apply Derren Brown’s, neuro linguistic programming to dance music. Where the beats provide the a consistent backdrop as the lyrics alter your thought patterns, until a moment of critical mass is reached and you just let all your worries go. The resulting emotional release hits with a physicality that the loudest Skrillex bass line could only dream of. Leaving behind a feeling of empowerment and a realisation, that even though the beat of life's fears will always be the same, the way in which you dance is entirely up to you.
“Flutes” is taken from Hot Chips fifth album, In Our Heads, which drops into UK stores on June, 11.
