...that I will try and get updates to be a bit more regular around here. Anyway, in the meantime have two more free EPs from my label. Both come personally and critically recommended.*
*trust me on this one, it's 1am and I can't be bothered to find the links, but the press clippings are on their artist pages, or you can Google.
Showing posts with label grunge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grunge. Show all posts
Wednesday, 21 September 2011
Thursday, 7 April 2011
Frank Turner - I Am Disappeared
No longer the ragged singer from Million Dead that with a muttered 'fuck it' began playing anywhere that would have him (in the process forging an enviable roots fanbase and live reputation), Frank's now got his sights fixed on the big time.
It thus comes as little suprise that the vitriolic wordplay of 'Long Live the Queen' is out, and pianos, strings and more pedestrian lyrics are in. It's not bad, but it's hardly even up to recent 'I Still Believe', introduced live with “this is about the things I believe in...guitars, bass, drums and poetry.” Frank, come back!
Mazes - Most Days
From their early days peddling Dinosaur Jr., esque slacker fuzz around Manchester, Mazes have truly grown, to now apparently include knocking off the Jr.'s videos ('Over It', anyone?). On 'Most Days', they've also upped the tempo as compared to earlier efforts 'Cenotaphs' and the brilliant 'Bowie Knives', to great effect.
Seriously though, all of that 'this isn't original but it's great' is horseshit; this is a fantastic bloody song, thick with attitude (Raditude?) and catchy melodies. If anything, it's actually a little reminiscent of early Ash, but I'm not sure if anybody but me still thinks that's a good thing.
Monday, 14 March 2011
Firesuite
You're an Ocean Deep, My Brother
Out Now
Rating: 4.5/5
A lot of commentators these days seem to fall back on the “bedroom album” argument when talking about the music industry these days, and even if that's not the case, there's certainly a lot of records being made to a decent standard at small studios all over the world right now, probably on a shoestring budget. I'd not be too surprised if that's from whence this Firesuite record comes, but you wouldn't tell from the production values.
In terms of sound, it's something like Failure, cranked to eleven and shot through with boy/girl vocals and post-rock atmospherics that aren't unlike the ethereal musings of Hammock. At a time when shoegaze has been resurgent, I guess it's only natural that eventually the Dinosaur Jr. fuzz would take over again and bands would begin re-discovering slacker US indie-grunge. The great thing about Firesuite, of course, is that they do a pretty decent job of smashing the two together, like freight trains bent on collision.
That's certainly the overriding vibe behind opener, 'Of Little Faith', but it's on track two, 'Amity', (when the Hum and Deftones influences cascade in) that the album really takes flight. Hyperbole aside, it really is a wall of sound we're dealing with here, and it's I guess no mean feat that the vocals manage to cut through so well in spite of this. From then on, the album doesn't really let up. There's brief respite offered by 'Stay' and the cartoon electronica of 'Sci-Fi Lullaby', but it's soon back to fast, sludgy rock on Kyuss-esque 'Beneath the Roses'. The space rock vibes cut back in on 'If Only Time Were Distance', which sounds as if it could be taken straight off Exeter's first (and only) record, before the collection tails off with coda 'Forever December'.
Though I'm certainly in a reference-overkill mood today, it definitely bears restating that the three bands that Firesuite most resemble in my mind are Failure, Exeter and RIBS; given that the latter two represent two of my most cherished unsigned finds of recent years, that bodes well for Firesuite. The fact is, You're an Ocean Deep, My Brother is an exceptional work. There's not a bad song on it, and let's be honest who cares how 'original' it is or isn't. When all of your songs are good enough to bring this level of enjoyment to the table, as far as I'm concerned you can do what the fuck you like. Essential.
In terms of sound, it's something like Failure, cranked to eleven and shot through with boy/girl vocals and post-rock atmospherics that aren't unlike the ethereal musings of Hammock. At a time when shoegaze has been resurgent, I guess it's only natural that eventually the Dinosaur Jr. fuzz would take over again and bands would begin re-discovering slacker US indie-grunge. The great thing about Firesuite, of course, is that they do a pretty decent job of smashing the two together, like freight trains bent on collision.
That's certainly the overriding vibe behind opener, 'Of Little Faith', but it's on track two, 'Amity', (when the Hum and Deftones influences cascade in) that the album really takes flight. Hyperbole aside, it really is a wall of sound we're dealing with here, and it's I guess no mean feat that the vocals manage to cut through so well in spite of this. From then on, the album doesn't really let up. There's brief respite offered by 'Stay' and the cartoon electronica of 'Sci-Fi Lullaby', but it's soon back to fast, sludgy rock on Kyuss-esque 'Beneath the Roses'. The space rock vibes cut back in on 'If Only Time Were Distance', which sounds as if it could be taken straight off Exeter's first (and only) record, before the collection tails off with coda 'Forever December'.
Though I'm certainly in a reference-overkill mood today, it definitely bears restating that the three bands that Firesuite most resemble in my mind are Failure, Exeter and RIBS; given that the latter two represent two of my most cherished unsigned finds of recent years, that bodes well for Firesuite. The fact is, You're an Ocean Deep, My Brother is an exceptional work. There's not a bad song on it, and let's be honest who cares how 'original' it is or isn't. When all of your songs are good enough to bring this level of enjoyment to the table, as far as I'm concerned you can do what the fuck you like. Essential.
Sunday, 30 January 2011
Thursday, 30 December 2010
Tuesday, 28 December 2010
The Octopus Cometh....
The Octopus
Ampcorp
Release Date: 31/1/2011
Rating: 5/5So it's finally here. The Octopus. Two hours and five minutes of music. Dear God.
It's pretty difficult to marshall words, such is the scope of this record; it's quite simply massive, both musically and conceptually. Along with the album comes a comic of the story, which ends simply with the words 'the beginning is important in all things', as well as a block of text explaining the concept of the record. By iterating and replacing letters with symbols, gradually the text dissolves into nonsense, and only ends with the credits page. I think it's about entropy, but it could equally be about the evolution of mind; I'm not really sure, but either way it's just the kind of high-minded conceptual art that is a breath of fresh air after years of vapid electro-indie.
The songs themselves are a mixed bag; “well ha, fucking ha!” mocks Sel in 'Golden Ratio', a track beholden to Amp's early period, while 'Fall of the Empire', and the title track are a darker, heavier evolution of their earlier records. Cuts like 'The Emperor' are equally similar to the mood and style of Insider, but the newer, heavier Amplifier definitely predominates. The riffs will be familiar to long-time fans, but the orchestral grandeur and huge harmonies are largely a new phenomenon. In any case, it's very welcome to have sprawling space-rock tracks like 'Interstellar' and the massive closer, 'Forever and More' in the mix, for they add the textural diversity that was perhaps found wanting on Insider compared to their début.
Between the two discs there's a change in feel too; Disc One, for the most part is the more 'classic' Amplifier sound- 'Planet of Insects' in particular sounds like nothing so much as an Amplifier track. Most of the songs reflecting pretty much how Amplifier have been sounding live for the last two years; there's even a piano coda after 'White Horses at Sea' by live keyboard player Charlie Barnes to illustrate this fact. It's all just as atmospheric as before, but if anything rather more driving and perhaps a little less psychedelic. There's less of that Gilmour-esque reverb-fuzz-wah combination and I'd hazard that the bass has come up in the mix somewhat, no bad thing.
Disc Two, on the other hand kicks off with the scratchy and strange 'Sick Rose', a marked change from 'Trading Dark Matter on the Stock Exchange', which in its most Soundgarden-y moment (think 'Just Like Suicide') even includes a power-stance ready shred passage, stylishly executed. To suddenly emerge into a drifting web of heavily effected guitar textures is somewhat disorientating. The disc continues this general theme of wrong-footing the listener, and there's even an acoustic guitar taking the lead (shock horror) on 'Oscar Night' (no relation to Oceansize's recent 'Oscar Acceptance Speech'), to my mind the first time since 'Scarecrows' from The Astronaut Dismantles Hal. On 'Bloodtest' a brilliantly nuts drumbeat drills its way into your forehead while stereo guitar nonsense ensues, and though the average length of songs on the second disc is longer than those on the first, to my surprise it passed a lot more effortlessly.
These are of course, after four days of listening, only really first impressions; nevertheless, what emerges clear as day is the fact that this is the best album Amplifier have yet made, and that the listener who cares to (or, indeed has the patience to) untangle its substance will be rewarded. Whatever it is or isn't about, it's fantastic. What's even more amazing about the whole thing is that whilst it was created without any label support, entirely in a DIY manner, it's still so perfectly-formed and fully realised. There's not a note or cymbal crash out of place, and they should be proud of just how accomplished this album is. Absolutely bloody brilliant, there's no two ways about it.
It's pretty difficult to marshall words, such is the scope of this record; it's quite simply massive, both musically and conceptually. Along with the album comes a comic of the story, which ends simply with the words 'the beginning is important in all things', as well as a block of text explaining the concept of the record. By iterating and replacing letters with symbols, gradually the text dissolves into nonsense, and only ends with the credits page. I think it's about entropy, but it could equally be about the evolution of mind; I'm not really sure, but either way it's just the kind of high-minded conceptual art that is a breath of fresh air after years of vapid electro-indie.
The songs themselves are a mixed bag; “well ha, fucking ha!” mocks Sel in 'Golden Ratio', a track beholden to Amp's early period, while 'Fall of the Empire', and the title track are a darker, heavier evolution of their earlier records. Cuts like 'The Emperor' are equally similar to the mood and style of Insider, but the newer, heavier Amplifier definitely predominates. The riffs will be familiar to long-time fans, but the orchestral grandeur and huge harmonies are largely a new phenomenon. In any case, it's very welcome to have sprawling space-rock tracks like 'Interstellar' and the massive closer, 'Forever and More' in the mix, for they add the textural diversity that was perhaps found wanting on Insider compared to their début.
Between the two discs there's a change in feel too; Disc One, for the most part is the more 'classic' Amplifier sound- 'Planet of Insects' in particular sounds like nothing so much as an Amplifier track. Most of the songs reflecting pretty much how Amplifier have been sounding live for the last two years; there's even a piano coda after 'White Horses at Sea' by live keyboard player Charlie Barnes to illustrate this fact. It's all just as atmospheric as before, but if anything rather more driving and perhaps a little less psychedelic. There's less of that Gilmour-esque reverb-fuzz-wah combination and I'd hazard that the bass has come up in the mix somewhat, no bad thing.
Disc Two, on the other hand kicks off with the scratchy and strange 'Sick Rose', a marked change from 'Trading Dark Matter on the Stock Exchange', which in its most Soundgarden-y moment (think 'Just Like Suicide') even includes a power-stance ready shred passage, stylishly executed. To suddenly emerge into a drifting web of heavily effected guitar textures is somewhat disorientating. The disc continues this general theme of wrong-footing the listener, and there's even an acoustic guitar taking the lead (shock horror) on 'Oscar Night' (no relation to Oceansize's recent 'Oscar Acceptance Speech'), to my mind the first time since 'Scarecrows' from The Astronaut Dismantles Hal. On 'Bloodtest' a brilliantly nuts drumbeat drills its way into your forehead while stereo guitar nonsense ensues, and though the average length of songs on the second disc is longer than those on the first, to my surprise it passed a lot more effortlessly.
These are of course, after four days of listening, only really first impressions; nevertheless, what emerges clear as day is the fact that this is the best album Amplifier have yet made, and that the listener who cares to (or, indeed has the patience to) untangle its substance will be rewarded. Whatever it is or isn't about, it's fantastic. What's even more amazing about the whole thing is that whilst it was created without any label support, entirely in a DIY manner, it's still so perfectly-formed and fully realised. There's not a note or cymbal crash out of place, and they should be proud of just how accomplished this album is. Absolutely bloody brilliant, there's no two ways about it.
Tuesday, 21 December 2010
More tracks from Wingman....
The joy of punk and grunge as a guitar player is that you can get four fucking notes and make a song out of them.
The joy of punk and grunge as a listener is when those notes come together through some crazy alchemy into something totally killer.
I've already been ranting about how good they are, but they've got some new tunes out so for fuck's sake check out Wingman (Harry Johns from ORKB's new band when he isn't playing with Dinosaur Pile-Up)!
Seriously!!
http://www.myspace.com/wingmanuk
The joy of punk and grunge as a listener is when those notes come together through some crazy alchemy into something totally killer.
I've already been ranting about how good they are, but they've got some new tunes out so for fuck's sake check out Wingman (Harry Johns from ORKB's new band when he isn't playing with Dinosaur Pile-Up)!
Seriously!!
http://www.myspace.com/wingmanuk
Friday, 17 December 2010
The Octopus is here....
Some of us have been waiting upwards of three years for this moment. Right now I'm holding Amplifier's monster Octopus in my hands, and I'm just getting ready for the mammoth task of reviewing it. Unfortunately, with today being the end of term and all, I have an existing engagement with the Union Bar. Consequently, you're going to have to deal with a 'first listen' analysis for now, so here it is:
Part One: FUCKING AWESOME
Part Two: FUCKING AWESOME
Artwork: FUCKING AWESOME
Packaging: FUCKING AWESOME
I'm not biased or anything, it's just really fucking good.
Highlights from first listen: 'The Octopus', 'Planet of Insects', 'Interstellar', 'Forever and More'.
Word.
Wednesday, 8 December 2010
The End is the Beginning is the End: the Smashing Pumpkins
Now I'm sure that I've mentioned this somewhere else- and I do feel like I say it often enough- but the Smashing Pumpkins are my favourite band. I don't know if this should come as a surprise or not, but there it is. Yes, I am aware that Zeitgeist is a piece of shit, that's a given- there is no such thing as the Smashing Pumpkins without James Iha (and, to a much lesser extent D'arcy, or even Auf Der Maur), and no matter how many incredible session musicians you get in to replace those lost members, the band will never be the same. Do you hear me, Billy Corgan? THE BAND WILL NEVER BE THE SAME. Right, so proceeding from the idea that the Smashing Pumpkins ended sometime in 2000, let's begin.
The Gish Pumpkins.
The greatest thing about the Smashing Pumpkins is not that their music is killer, or that on each album they did something completely different (though I will discuss this later), but the story behind the band. Anybody who's heard the alternative edit of 'Mayonaise' cut with the interview clips of Billy Corgan and co. chatting knows what I'm on about.
At the root of it, Billy Corgan was once likable, remember? He was a clever kid who skipped college to follow the rock and roll dream and failed. His first band, The Marked, broke up in obscurity, and it was not until a considerable time after that the seed of the Pumpkins (cough, cough) was formed when he met James Iha and the two jammed with a drum machine. All of the lyrics of the first album were so obtuse as to be indecipherable, but that all changed with Siamese Dream, where he finally bared all in one cathartic, angst-soaked masterpiece. It's also the record where the Smashing Pumpkins' sound was truly born. Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of Gish, and 'Snail', 'Rhinoceros', 'I am One' and 'Bury Me', but the Pumpkins will forever be associated with the massive, overdub- loaded sound they achieved on Siamese.
The story of Corgan's wife- how he met her on the stairs at a show, to their courtship, breakup and his eventual retreat to living on the floor of their practice space even with a million dollars in his bank account is certainly one of the best rock n' roll tales I've ever heard, but it's not for me to recount here. The truth is, evidenced especially by things like the Vieuphoria tape, the Pumpkins of this period were everything rock is supposed to be about- a bunch of kids playing great songs, all just friends on an adventure. After Siamese, it would never quite be the same again, and though their albums would keep getting better, their story would only get sadder.
I'm not going to tell the story everyone knows- a dead fan in Dublin, a dead keyboardist in the States, and a dead mother to return to- that caused the first collapse of the band. I'm just going to say that for me, the pre-Mellon Collie Pumpkins as a band will always have the best mythos. That these scruffy geeks, shot through with neuroses (and increasingly) drug problems should get a chance at the big-time is the ultimate rock fable.
Then there's the albums. Obviously there's Gish, Siamese and Mellon Collie... but you know about all those. By the time 'Transformer' from The Aeroplane Flies High fades out of your speakers, the Pumpkins you know and love have left the building, and they will never be the same again.
Drawing a line under their previous work, they continued to do new shit- the industrial rock on Batman soundtrack 'The End is the Beginning is the End' segued into the downtempo and bleak electronica of Adore before morphing into what was to be their best album, Machina/The Machines of God, an insane, megalomaniacal swan song of a concept album, mirrored in vision, genius and delusion by its sister-work, Machina II: The Friends and Enemies of Modern Music. For all their flaws, it's this pair that are my favourite Pumpkins albums, as they unite both the 'rock' Pumpkins and the weirder, more experimental 'electronic' Pumpkins. From their first basement tape, Nothing and Everything (if memory serves) their entire discography is a natural progression that leads, inevitably, to the Machina duo, and I still cannot listen to songs like 'The Sacred + Profane' without being moved; even six or more years after they first entered my life, the grace and beauty of songs like 'This Time' and 'Home' still catch me like I haven't aged a day, and it's the first time I'm hearing them.
The Machina Pumpkins.
After all that I still can't really say why the Pumpkins are so special, exactly. maybe I feel an affinity with a character like Corgan who drives those close to him away, I don't know. What I do know is that no band's music will ever be as special to me as the Pumpkins' was when I first heard it on my Walkman, listening secretly in bed on a school night.
This mixtape should about cover it.
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