Interview - Working Men’s Club
If you were to compare the singles ‘Bad Blood’ and ‘Teeth’ you would assume they came at different points in their band’s career.
But they are the early offerings which demonstrate how much Working Men’s Club have evolved over the course of 2019. ‘Bad Blood’ was a promising debut, bouncing shimmering indie designed for the dancefloor, and was enough to get them a deal with Heavenly Records. ‘Teeth’ is something else entirely.
Gloriously menacing, with an electronic hook that stands alongside the greats (i.e. impossible to forget), and guitars that sound like jet planes lost in a hurricane, it’s like nothing else this year, with a haunting, Godlike vocal from Sydney Minsky-Sargeant on the verse (which sounds like your conscience on a Sunday morning) which then becomes more despairing as the songs reaches its crescendo, vocals and guitars working in simpatico.
Despite the immediacy of the song they’ve somehow managed to make a it a grower too. Only after repeated listens do the Happy Mondays funk guitars betray themselves, and the oblique lyrics allow the imagination to flourish. Yet it didn’t start with such intensity, as Sydney told Live4ever upon Teeth being named our #1 track of 2019:
“The first demo I did was slower and a bit drowsier with less aggressive vocals. But then after putting it into the set-up it became more up-tempo and dancier. That’s happened with a few tunes now, however I’m trying to write some straight-up dance tunes too.”
Teeth was one of the high points of a successful year for Working Men’s Club, “2019 has been amazing and really busy, but incredibly important,” Sydney says. “Less that a year ago no-one knew who we were, and we hadn’t released any music, so it’s been a pretty crazy year for us.”
That’s without question, and 2020 promises more milestones for the four-piece, but before that the band will be taking a well-earned break over the festive period: “We’ll be coming down after finishing our album and hopefully having a rest after a really busy year before continuing to tour the UK and Europe, and releasing our record.”
It’s probably best to follow their lead; with many more weapons like ‘Teeth’ in their armoury, Working Men’s Club are going to be relentless in 2020.
Interview - The Clockworks
Photo by Nicholas O’Donnell
Following your dreams is such an idealistic notion that it’s easy to be sneered at. It’s apparently unrealistic to expect your life to go the way you want it to, ‘that doesn’t happen’.
And yet time and time again, it does: footballers, entrepreneurs and social media stars have got where they are through belief and ambition. Musicians (despite some exceptions) are no different. Even so, to up sticks and relocate to a different country just to make your voice heard takes guts – around this time last year, a young four-piece from Galway decided to do just that.
The Irish music scene is in a healthy place right now: The Murder Capital and Just Mustard are playing to large venues in the UK, while Fontaines D.C. are the indie success story of the year. Yet these acts had an advantage, being in or around the Dublin area. The Clockworks had no such luck.
“We’re a funny one because I think if you asked the bands in Dublin, they do hang out, whereas we just don’t get to,” lead singer and lyric writer James tells me. “But that’s what made the decision to come here easier, because there was nothing tying us to Dublin.”
“There isn’t much of a scene in Galway, it’s all in Dublin,” notes drummer Damian. “If you’re not in the scene in Dublin, you’re not in the scene at all,” James agrees: “We just thought we’d come here and open ourselves up for some more opportunities.”
‘Here’ being the south of England. The band decamped to London in early January, the sensible logic being there is more opportunity in the capital. Such an opportunity presented itself within two weeks.
“We moved over on January 17th, and I think it was January 29th I sent him an Instagram message on the way to work one day on the train,” guitarist Sean tells us. “He saw it straight away, which was rare because apparently he got 700 messages that week. He said, ‘Send me your best song’, so I sent him ‘Bills And Pills’. He fucking loved it.”
The ‘he’ in question was Alan McGee, founder of Creation Records. The man who signed Primal Scream, Oasis and The Jesus & Mary Chain (among many others) now runs a new label, Creation23, and his hunt and thirst for new bands hasn’t dimmed. “He came to see us rehearse in Mill Hill,” Sean continues. “Me and James picked him up at the train station.”
“We treated it like a gig,” Tom remembers. “We set up the room like a gig rather than rehearsing when we face each other.” McGee was impressed: “He said it was the best rehearsal he’d seen since Oasis in the 1990s. He said, ‘I’m signing you now’.”
High praise from a man who’s seen and done it all. Yet it’s not without foundation; The Clockworks already have a TV appearance (on Soccer AM) under their belts and a few high-profile support slots including a current tour with The Bluetones, all on the back of one single. The band and McGee were in agreement that their growth should be quite organic, but circumstances are overtaking them:
“We played tiny little gigs, little club nights and supports, without mentioning it around London. Just picking up one or two people at a time. Just very quiet, and at the same time we were recording ‘Bills And Pills’. We started playing a couple of headline venues that between us and McGee we decided were not typical venues, like the Boogaloo in north London which has a history but is not on the circuit anymore. There was a whole scene in Brixton with south London bands, but we were like, ‘We live in north London, we’ll just play here’. It ended up working really well.”
The plan is going well so far, but in 2020 they’re unlikely to get away with being so discreet. Plans are afoot, as James informs us, for another single and their own gig in London, at The Old Blue Last in February. As well as this, the interest in the band isn’t just in the UK: Sean took it upon himself to cast the net further afield. “We put out some feelers on Instagram last night to see who wants to play where,” he reveals. “The results have been funny. A lot of different places; the UK, Sweden, Washington, Sao Paulo. Boston!”
“We go to the Netherlands in January for a festival. We’ve got a few festivals confirmed for early summer, we’ll be quite busy next year. The gig at Old Blue Last is a must.”
Tom is adamant: “Come see for yourself.”
Their gig at the Bristol Trinity Centre is a tour de force – eight short, sharp bursts of rock energy that are angular and muscular at the same time. Of the familiar songs, ‘Bills And Pills’ is a frenetic ocean of noise, while ‘Can I Speak To A Manager?’ sounds titanic, with excellently dexterous bass heard above the all-consuming sound. Better yet are the songs to come; ‘Rumours In The Stockroom’ and ‘Stranded In Stansted’ are watertight anthems. The Clockworks are professional without being pretentious, and clearly mean business.
Sports Team - Live at The Thekla, Bristol
Sports Team are currently inhabiting that sweet-spot for a new band.
All the tracks so far have been met with a positive response, they’ve been on the road most of the year so have perfected their current live show, and in doing so built up a dedicated following. They’re accessible enough to capture a younger, statistically-likely-more-appreciative audience, and young enough themselves to look wonderful (the bastards). You can hear the swoons as singer Alex Rice takes to the stage.
They are also direct and honest, and not ashamed to use Robbie Williams’ ‘Let Me Entertain You’ for their entrance to the stage before opener ‘Margate’, in all its glam-rock-with-Television-lead-guitar glory, bursts into life and whips the already highly-charged crowd into orgasm. Right from the off Rice gives it his all, heartily beating his chest and swinging his arms back and forth to demand undivided attention in what, as becomes apparent throughout the gig, is his trademark fashion. ‘Margate’ is swiftly followed by ‘Camel Craw’, which has another crowd-pleasing trick in breaking down and then coming right back.
Rice has all the classic tricks of a frontman with, if you’ll (please) forgive the phrase, moves like Jagger, and bearing a resemblance to him too. Strikingly good looking (even in a white suit), he teases the crowd by dangling his mic stand (adorned with flowers) over the top of the crowd. He hugs every stage-diver (one young man in particular must have jumped on stage about five times), and as he himself declares in the lyrics to ‘Fishing’, this young man is a lover, not a fighter.
Rice is nearly outdone by keyboardist Ben Mac though; Bez in attire and Chris Lowe in attitude, he stands stock still by his instrument for virtually the whole set, on occasion perhaps boring himself and strolling back and forth, seemingly unaware that he’s in a band. It’s incongruous when compared to Rice but fascinating nonetheless. He in fact stands apart from the whole band, all of whom are committed to the cause, albeit with no sense of uniformity in their dress code.
The songs themselves pack a punch (“We’re just going to kill it for 35 minutes”) and utilise the smart trick of finishing suddenly to gain maximum applause. ‘M5’ is reminiscent of the more party-driven songs of The Dandy Warhols, ‘Fishing’ is becoming a youth anthem (‘we go out with our friends’) and new single ‘The Races’ sounds like a diatribe to the gammons but is still delivered in their joyful way.
The frantic, muscular ‘Here It Comes Again’ is their calling card, and while the set veers into being one-note, ‘Ski-Lifts’ does add a whiff of melancholy to their pop oeuvre. Which is just as well because life can’t be one big party, though Sports Team are damn well trying to make it one.
Heavy Lungs - Live at The Thekla, Bristol
For the uninitiated the Thekla is unique in the UK – a boat, moored on Bristol’s Floating Harbour.
However, by virtue of being a former cargo ship it has some design necessities that don’t fully lend themselves to gigs: when it’s packed it becomes very difficult to get to the front because of a bottleneck, and therefore it can be hard to fully hear and appreciate the performance, through no fault of the band. This was a packed gig.
Because it was a homecoming gig, and there’s nothing quite like one of those. After travelling the country or the world, bands may want to reconnect with their roots no matter how good a tour it’s been. The appetite from the crowd is not only more anticipatory but also more forgiving. You can feel the crackling. Essentially there’s just a lot more love in the room.
After playing their first European tour, Heavy Lungs have wisely chosen their hometown as the last night on a quick jaunt around the country, to play at one of its most famous venues and, having recently been refurbished, the Thekla may have to replace the roof that the band seem so intent on tearing off. Nor are they relying on the crowd reaction, they earn it on merit by giving it their all. It’s a suffocating whirlpool of aggressive rock music that demonstrates the true timeless power of the art form.
As with all the best rock bands the power is held by the drummer, and Heavy Lungs have a phenomenal one in George Garratt. It’s a bravura performance of power and aggression in the style of John Bonham and is the key ingredient of the band’s sky-scraping punk. He does well to distract from singer Danny Nedelko, who is a preening, posturing frontman in the lineage of Jim Morrison and Brett Anderson (complete with removal of shirt). Never still, he’s either lost in the music with sweeping new wave flamboyancy or he’s letting it wash over him. Engaging as any great frontperson should be.
It’s been a productive year for the band, and there’s variation in the set; ‘Stutter,’ as the name suggests, takes a while to get going (by design) and sounds like Graham Coxon having a wet dream. ‘Self Worth’ is Queens Of The Stone Age on speed, as the drummer wryly points out, thanking them when the song concludes. Meanwhile, ‘Unfaithful One’ evolves into a dark, drum-driven wormhole as Danny joins what feels like every member of the audience in crowd-surfing.
By their own admission, Heavy Lungs aren’t the finished article yet; the ambition is to keep evolving, keep writing better songs and then eventually become the biggest and best in the world.
Yet in terms of crowd participation and adulation, it’s hard to see how much further they can go.
Underworld - Drift Series 1
Well, this was ambitious.
For reasons unknown, last year electronic pioneers Underworld put themselves to work on a new project – to create, record and release a new piece of music every week for a calendar year.
Sometimes they would also release short accompanying films so the tracks could be regarded as quasi-soundtracks. It’s not an especially new idea, the duo following suit from The Wedding Present and Ash in regularly releasing new singles over twelve months, but the scale is unprecedented. Underworld are a different beast entirely to those two indie bands, and not renowned for their succinctness in song.
The first phase (see the collection’s title) is now complete and available for commercial release as a seven-CD box-set. For the sake of your sanity, this writer can relay first-hand experience of listening to it in one sitting, and that approach does not come recommended. Not because of a lack of quality, more because the sheer volume of music is difficult to digest, some gems can fall through the cracks.
And it is a treasure trove of eclecticism. From the oriental, desolate ‘Altitude Dub’ to the driven jazz of ‘Poet Cat’, most musical bases are covered. ‘Low Between Zebras’ is a monologue against eerie synthesizers and ‘Moth At The Door’ is operatic. Life-affirming pop music, not normally a genre one would associate with Underworld, is flirted with on the wonderful ‘Molehill’. Boundaries are now a thing of the past.
The huge variations in pace are sometimes a bit discombobulating; the gorgeous screeching soundscape of ‘Brilliant Yes That Would Be’ sounds like an offcut from Vangelis’ Blade Runner score. At ten minutes it’s a bit unwieldy, but following the rave drone of ‘Universe Of Can When Go Back’ it’s cleansing. Nor is it unique in its length; several of the tracks exceed the ten-minute mark and it does become a bit draining at points. Closer ‘Appleshine Continuum’ clocks in at 36 minutes and, while an impressive piece of work full of emotive moments, it would work better as a separate piece on its own.
Yet nothing on the 52 tracks is frivolous. For all the experimentation, Karl Hyde and Rick Smith are ravers at heart and there’s plenty of that here. Drift rips through the speakers like a demon, ‘Soniamode (Aditya Game)’ is as all party trumpets and is as bullish as they’ve ever been, while ‘Listen To Their No’ could be plucked from any point of their career. The same can’t be said of ‘S T A R (Rebel Tech)’, which essentially is a list of famous and contemporary names (David Bowie, Danny Boyle) which seems meaningless but feels vital.
Yet it’s the slower tracks that stand out. Best of all are ‘Custard Speedtalk’, a military drumming backed by piano while Hyde is reflective and melancholy, and the sparse, Kraftwerk-indebted ‘Doris’. Elsewhere the woozy, laconic ‘Dune’ pushes them close as standout track from the collection.
Best of all, there’s seemingly more to come (Series 1 being a giveaway) so the project has obviously revitalised the duo. The ‘sample’ disc, a distillation of their chosen tracks (and viewed as one album, one of their best) is undoubtedly more palatable and is a fair reflection of the best bits of this project but doesn’t tell half the story.
A nice problem to have.
Working Men’s Club - Live at The Louisiana, Bristol
You used to be able to tell a lot about a band by their entrance music.
It was a scene setter, a way of managing expectations, and often the choice was akin to the live music that was to follow. In 2019 we are all very self-aware, and therefore subverting expectations is the new norm.
Working Men’s Club are advocates of this approach, taking to the stage to ‘It’s Raining Men’, The Weather Girls’ classic from 1982. A pop anthem, full of uninhibited joy. What follows from the Yorkshire mob is not constricted, but nor is it especially joyful.
This isn’t a criticism; Working Men’s Club have created an intense world of their own which is not for the faint of heart. It’s one of those gigs where you can feel the crackle of anticipation amongst the sold-out crowd before the explosion of noise hits.
They’ve already moved on from their debut single ‘Bad Blood’, which has now evolved into a swirling, effects-pedal driven, righteous noise. Set closer and recent single ‘Teeth’ is more in line with the rest of the yet-to-be-released set, incessant and industrial techno alongside Mary Chain guitars.
For ones so young (all in their late teens), they have a demonstrably evolved sound with smatterings of recognisable guitar influences. Some jangly guitar here, some phased bass there. Often there’s nu-rave mixed with psyche-rock. Yet the one act that keeps coming to mind is Underworld; singer Sydney Minsky-Sargeant spouts monotone monologues very much like Karl Hyde, above never unpleasantly over-bearing electronica. He’s uncompromising in his confrontation of the audience, in much the same way the music is. His deep, instructive voice perfectly suits the cacophony, and as he strips down to the waist the other males in the band follow suit, as if falling under his spell.
Their analogue instruments work alongside an arsenal of electronics, and as such there’s now no requirement for a drummer. In truth, one would run the risk of being drowned out amidst the epic and unsettling chaos which feels like trying to play ping-pong in a moving truck. It sounds like The Human League covering Neu and then letting the Prodigy remix it all. And it’s glorious.
It will be a shame when Working Men’s Club move on from intimate venues such as this, as their music has its natural home in the underground and in the dark. But it’s inevitable.
Little Comets - Live at The Komedia, Bath
Some things transcend the passage of time, taste and fashion. Joyous, upbeat guitar led music is one of them.
Little Comets have been operating for over a decade now and it would be fair to say that, despite their successes, they’ve sadly never permeated the mainstream. It’s a crying shame but doesn’t seem to bother the band one iota, and on tonight’s showing it’s clear why: they have a staunchly loyal following, and it seems to be one that regenerates itself.
Surveying the audience, the majority of those in attendance tonight (November 1st) would’ve been in single figures when Little Comets’ debut album was released. In the natural order of things, these kids should be watching unsigned bands, not one that’s four albums in.
It’s even more remarkable that tonight’s gig is ostensibly to promote or celebrate said debut, In Search Of Elusive Little Comets, which has recently been re-recorded. Singer Rob Coles recounts the circumstances surrounding why from the stage, that being that their original label wouldn’t support a reissue on vinyl so the band took it upon themselves to record a new version, as live in the studio.
A large chunk of the set consists of tracks taken from that album, the crowd singing along with Coles’ passionate vocals on ‘Joanna’ and the itchy ‘Adultery’ amongst others, and then dancing along in sync to, well, ‘Dancing Song’.
Paradoxically, the chirpy optimism of the album has clearly stood the test of time and yet they’ve come a long way since then. ‘A Bientot’, lifted from 2017’s Worhead, features marauding drumming (although the drums sound mighty all night), dramatic vocals and Edge chiming guitar. Meanwhile, ‘The Man Who Wrote Thriller’, from the same album, manages to be both pensive and catchy. ‘The Western Boy’ is intense, while ‘Little Italy’’s orchestral arrangement, or the overall chunkiness of ‘Hunting’, are good examples of their increasing maturity when contrasted to the despairing vocals and squealing guitar on ‘Darling Alistair’, or the charming restlessness of ‘Jennifer’.
The even newer material is yet another step on. ‘M62’ starts slowly with just vocals and soft guitar before the rest of the band comes for an onslaught. Likewise, ‘Alive At All’ is more muscular and fully formed than on record. Both have been released in the last two years and bode well, but best of all is closer ‘3 Minute Faltz’, as Coles removes guitar, takes to the piano and delivers some excellent wordplay before the track turns on its head with a fist pumping, unifying chorus. It’s brave to finish on a newer track given how well the earlier stuff has gone down, but Little Comets walk that tightrope between looking back and facing the future well.
You can’t move without seeing a smile, either from crowd or band. The five-some have the aura of people who know they have the best job in the world and are grateful for it.
A stark, potentially bleak and bitter winter is coming, yet Little Comets always give reason to be hopeful.
Girl Ray - Girl
When an indie act goes pop, alarm bells used to ring.
Not that one form of music takes any higher precedence over the other, but honing your sound to become flagrantly more commercial was seen as a sign of weakness, or of ‘selling out’. If you’re good enough as a band, you should be able to reshape pop around you (The Cure, Oasis, Arctic Monkeys) rather than reaching for it.
That’s a slightly outdated principle now, as genres are rapidly becoming a thing of the past. To be more pop means, broadly, to add some sheen and sparkle to your offerings as well as the more old-fashioned concepts of being catchy or resonant.
So when Girl Ray announced their new Year Zero was Ariana Grande’s explosion into pop culture, some eyebrows may have been raised. Their debut album was pleasant and understated, all jangly gems and ramshackle instrumentation, and certainly worthy of further exploration. Yet once the squealing synths and calypso beat of the title-track (and opener) kick in, it’s clear on Girl the North Londoners are boldly changing course.
One pre-requisite of pop music is that it should cover matters of the heart (and sometimes body), and Girl Ray aren’t found wanting here. ‘Just Down The Hall’ starts in a jaunty way but transforms into something much seedier, and with hushed Barry While-style vocals in the background over string-driven funk it practically oozes sex.
Elsewhere ‘Takes Time’, with a guest appearance from British rapper Pswuave (‘go ahead and call me mama/and you can be my baby’), owes a large debt to contemporary R&B, albeit more pondering with a beat so deep you feel your ears might be popping.
Carnal matters are most prominent on ‘Friend Like That’ (‘he dipped me like a casual fondue’). The key weapon in the band’s arsenal is Poppy Hankin’s Nico-esque vocals, which are used to great effect across much of the album. Her breathy vocals provide sincerity to the glitter funk of ‘Show Me More’, while on ‘Because’ they contrast well with the fullness and the slightly reverberating polka of the track. Her English accent over broadly summer time, mid-west pop production shouldn’t work but does. Either knowingly or unknowingly the track lifts from the Beatles track of the same name (‘because the world is round’) and is a similarly cleansing experience.
It’s not frantic in the way that modern pop can be. The tempo, while often very danceable, is unhurried in a way that rewards multiple listens. ‘Let It Go’ percolates at its own pace, and the dusty organ on the ode to friendship of ‘Keep It Tight’ keeps things at base level.
Yet as the album progresses the band’s roots come to the fore: the flute, so prominent on their debut, returns in the latter stages along with strings which maraud across the closer ‘Like The Stars’, which starts as a straight forward piano ballad but then builds elegantly with sumptuous guitars. Elsewhere it’s front and centre on ‘Go To The Top’, which would sit comfortably on their debut.
Girl Ray have brought in Ash Workman as producer, whose credits include Christine And The Queens and Metronomy, and the approach largely works in terms of broadening their sound rather than over-hauling it. It’s fortunate that this is the case, as to abandon their whimsy would have been a great loss.
Girl, while not as unique as their debut, is a testament to measured experimentation.
Inhaler - Live at The Exchange, Bristol
The island of Ireland (because apparently it’s law to use that moniker now) is a hotbed of talent at the moment.
Fontaines D.C. have had a very impressive year and are likely to continue to go from strength to strength with their forthcoming autumn tour (seeing as the whole UK leg is completely sold out they’d have to spectacularly mess it up) and The Murder Capital are following suit. Coming a bit further down the line and sure to have a big 2020 are snotty punks Touts and The Clockworks who, having signed to Alan McGee’s Creation 23 label, are already generating buzz by virtue of the industry legend heaping praise upon them.
And in the middle carriage, so far album-less but with a raft of strong songs, sit Inhaler.
They are a different proposition to the others though. Whilst all the aforementioned bands could be attributed to or associated with punk (specifically the post kind), this five-piece are more of a mainstream entity. Mixing the intense romance of The Killers with the emotional yearning of Coldplay, it’s very well-polished for ones so young, yet having been together since their school days (probably only a couple of years ago but still) they have a symbiosis that is difficult to fake.
They are also water-tight, held together by swaggering bass and the tumultuous Ryan McMahon on skins. Supporting Noel Gallagher, The Courteeners and Blossoms this year has very obviously taught them valuable lessons on how to get crowds, large or small, onside.
They do have pedigree when it comes to widescreen rock, as frontman Elijah Hewson is the offspring of one Bono Vox. While it seems churlish and unnecessary to make comparisons between the two frontmen, it’s also inescapable that Hewson does sound a lot like his old man, in that he has an impressive vocal range. On ‘Cheer Up Baby’ the sincerity shines through, while on closer ‘My Honest Face’ he makes the chorus skyrocket. In a wider context, the early 80s are a key touchstone; ‘I Want You’ is a great lost Echo & The Bunnymen track and ‘Ice Cream Sundae’ is anthemic New Romantic.
One imagines that Bono was more than aware of the inevitable comparisons that would be made, so it’s testament to Hewson Jnr that he’s not relying on just his larynx, providing some notable guitar solos throughout the set. While on the one hand having a famous father will at some points be a millstone around his neck, he’s had the benefit of being surrounded by music for all his life and it shows.
Nor are Inhaler building up a fanbase just because of who they are. It’s fair to say there are a lot of curious middle-aged U2 fans in attendance (t-shirts included) but for every one of them there’s an adoring teenager, worshipping in that unadulterated way that only they can.
If Inhaler can keep both demographics onside, and based on tonight there’s nothing to suggest they won’t, we’ll be seeing a lot more of them.
Starcrawler - Devour You
As music fans, we expect a lot from our acts.
We pin our hopes on them and more often than not fall for the press headlines, ironically allowing ourselves to be set up for disappointment when they turn out not to be life-changers. We should be savvy enough to see such manipulation coming from a mile off, but the wheel keeps turning.
Feted as saviours of rock a few years ago, Starcrawler certainly had some advantages. Singer Arrow de Wilde’s parents are a drummer (Aaron Sperske, formerly of Beachwood Sparks) and a renowned rock photographer (Autumn de Wilde – it won’t surprise you to learn that the band were formed in LA). To top it off, they were able to enlist Ryan Adams on production. Yet it would be churlish to say that the band is a product of fortune; their self-titled debut album last year was a riot, the sound of Black Sabbath playing Ronettes covers. It was pop-punk at its finest, and that most underrated yet important of musical experiences: huge fun.
Thankfully, they haven’t reinvented the wheel for this sophomore offering. Glee oozes from the speakers, with added glam rock glitter. On ‘Lizzy’, de Wilde screeches like the love child of Bo Diddley and Courtney Love over furious party rock, while recent single ‘Beat My Brains’ is almost literal, a marauding beast containing a key change any ‘pop’ act would be proud of.
Starcrawler’s live show is renowned for its theatricality, and these songs will translate well there. The sleazy ‘Home Alone’ is what would happen if the Yeah Yeah Yeahs provided a remix for 1970s Iggy Pop – until the guitar solo kicks in and dramatically changes the mood. ‘You Dig Yours’ is strutting rock backed by some apocalyptic drumming, and ‘Tank Top’ recalls the chipper melodies of The Monkees. One can’t imagine the band have any reservations about taking to the stage with so much adrenaline-fuelled energy up their sleeves.
If there’s only so much superficial trashy rock and roll you can stomach, there is more depth than previously. ‘No More Pennies’ adds some country guitar licks to the pot, and ‘Call Me A Baby’ sounds like one of those gentle White Stripes duets that were found on most of their albums.
‘She Gets Around’ opens with a pulsing underwater bass which heralds a more sinister, serious offering, while ‘Born Asleep’ is FM rock, complete with sky kissing solo. ‘Hollywood Ending’ is fittingly the track that’s most likely to be found on a movie soundtrack, de Wilde’s double-tracked vocals lending a sense of emotion and depth as a tonic to her west coast drawl.
But these are exceptions. The order of the day is cymbal heavy, gloriously face-melting seismic glam rock. The rough edges have been sanded off to make Devour You more polished and refined than its predecessor and as such is a step up whilst also being a refreshing dose of cynicism-free guitar music.
Starcrawler are here for our hearts and they make it incredibly easy to give in. They’re not the saviours of rock, but they are the soundtrack to unadulterated hedonism, which adds up to much the same thing.
Liam Gallagher - Why Me? Why Not.
Confident though he is, one suspects that even Liam Gallagher was taken aback by the success of his debut solo album As You Were.
Both exciting and solid, the platinum selling album successfully played to his strengths, equally divided between plaintive ballads and classic rock and roll. The success that followed through big gigs, copious radio play and entertaining interviews made the UK fall in love with Liam all over again. But how best to follow that up?
The novelty of his return has worn off, so now it’s got to be about the songs. As a minimum he has to consolidate. You won’t be surprised to learn that he’s generally playing it safe, but he’s now confident enough to tinker with the winning formula.
Comeback single ‘Shockwave’ is familiar territory though. It’s giddy glam rock that’s designed to play to his strengths with a verse cribbed from ‘Spread Your Love’ by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. A mighty chorus, a sneering middle eight (‘you’re a snake, you’re a weasel’ – wonder who that’s directed at?) and the overall message, ‘I’m back’.
‘One Of Us’ pushes the boat out further, even if it’s just to the other side of the quay; the dramatic strings are reminiscent of Richard Ashcroft, accompanying a groovy bassline that channels Ian Brown, topped off with an earworm of a chorus. Having similar demographics, it’s a wise move and it’s possibly the best thing he’s put his name to in the last decade. The compulsory big ballad follows, ‘Once’ being a little too on-the-nose Lennon-esque. Trite rhyming couplets don’t distract from the inherent beauty of the song, although we have been here many times before.
As It Was (the documentary film) revealed Liam Gallagher to be the conductor of his previous album. Presuming they followed the same format for Why Me? Why Not. (and why wouldn’t they), then Gallagher has more ideas than he’s given credit for. Equally, as controversial as it is, the beauty of working with professional musicians is that their proficiency adds flavour. The title-track is pure White Album, apt given its source material (the album being named after a pair of Lennon paintings), while ‘Meadow’ is all distorted vocals and dry acoustic guitars, but goes leftfield as it progresses before culminating with what sounds like a spaceship landing. We even get a boisterous spoken-word section at the end of ‘Gone’.
A breezy freedom inhabits the album: ‘Now That I’ve Found You’ is a message to his formerly estranged daughter Molly who re-entered his life a few years ago. It manages to combine Semisonic with Status Quo, which is probably not something you thought you wanted but is a pleasant surprise. Elsewhere, ‘Alright Now’ skips everywhere melodically with a jaunty bridge and a Harrison solo as played by David Gilmour. It’s got no discernible chorus but that works in its favour.
‘Halo’ is the spiritual brother of Beady Eye’s ‘Bring The Light’, driving honky tonk piano and a whistling breakdown which successfully masks some more lyrical clangers. ‘The River’ rectifies this; a marauding beast taking the modern world to task (‘the device in your hand masks your beauty’).
It goes without saying that, as good as these songs are, it’s Gallagher’s voice that makes some of them transcendent. At certain points he goes full falsetto, and his talent for perfectly pitching his vocals to compliment the music continues to be his greatest strength.
He’s stated on record that he intends to take a break once this album has been toured, and indeed ‘Gone’ has a tone that matches the lyrics in saying ta-ta for now. He’ll be departing on good terms.
Gallagher knows his job is to move hearts and souls, and this album is possibly the most uplifting of the year.
King Nun - Mass
Starting on their musical journey as punks, west Londoners King Nun have already come a long way.
Signed aged seventeen, their most immediate dilemma was how to play in venues when they themselves were underage. As tales of teenage angst go, of which this album contains many, it’s one of the more unique. Sadly, we don’t get an answer to that specific question.
Otherwise, Mass is steeped in subject matter that bedevils all of us at a certain age: melancholy, anxiety, jealousy, lust and aspiration are all universal issues but manifest themselves uniquely. King Nun take the defiant approach, wrapping lyrics around said issues in uninhibited indie rock. The influences are keenly felt throughout, but this works for them in that they can simply focus on the key messages.
Frontman Theo Polyzoides channels Placebo’s Brian Molko on opener ‘Mascara Runs’ (and not just in the title), a sneering desperation coursing through his voice (‘if I don’t grow up you won’t listen’) over early Bloc Party guitars. Androgyny is something to explore and be proud of, ‘Chinese Medicine’ mellows the angst with excellent time-keeping by the whole band. ‘Transformer’ evokes the free-wheeling spirit of Britpop, musically if not lyrically (‘how do you hate in a place like this?’).
By this point all the PR surrounding the diversity of the album starts to ring hollow, with three consecutive tracks of recognisably British indie. Fortunately, ‘Cowboy’ signals the beginning of more unchartered waters, adding some slight but noticeable funk to proceedings with a momentum building chorus covering toxic masculinity. ‘I Saw Blue’ slows things down slightly, but with sudden changes in key and volume between verse and chorus.
Centrepiece and highlight of the album is ‘Black Tree’, the simplistic and solid rhythmic strumming providing the backbone of an insight into depression. The song builds and builds, adding yearning strings and further harmonies, reflecting the dark internalisation that are inescapable for those with mental health problems via the metaphor of the tree growing. It belies the youthfulness of its composers.
‘Low Flying Dandelion’ is neon funk, sonically evoking the warped melodies of Talking Heads and finished off with a guitar outro that wouldn’t sound out of place on mid-period Supergrass, immediately followed and contrasted by ‘Sharing A Head With Seth’ and its troubadour slacker rock, while ‘Intravenous’ tempers the urgent strut of Wire with guitar acrobats worthy of Graham Coxon. ‘A Giant Came Down’ is a paean to long forgotten German folk singer Sibylle Baier, a woozy guitar, vocally strained burst of energy on which the album ends.
There is much to be appreciated on this promising debut, but it’s sometimes a confusing listen. The subject matter shouldn’t be taken lightly, yet the music doesn’t comfortably fit with it. But it’s splendidly enjoyable indie rock that can only be made by young people.
Mass is tight, musically concise and augurs well for King Nun’s future.
Interview - LIFE at SXSW 2018
It’s not news anymore; the modern world is a scary yet fascinating place.
Specifically, the music industry is an ever-evolving beast, and so both our favourite acts and those that are trying to make a name for themselves are having to think, act and react differently. The beauty of the accessibility of instant gratification music is also a curse; competition is rife, everyone has a platform on which they can be heard, but that actually makes being heard more of a challenge.
Hull collective LIFE have managed to put themselves in a good position leading a wave of exciting new bands that have both creative and logistical control, and are therefore doing it their own way. We touched base with the band at this year’s South By Southwest Festival in Texas to pick their bones about the next stage of this increasingly exciting career.
It’s good to have you back. We saw you here last year, so how have the last 12 months been?
Last year was great: we brought the album out in May and we were lucky enough to be playlisted on 6Music three times. Then, at the end of the year, we were put in Radio One’s albums of the year next to Jay-Z and all that. We’re just pitching it to America now, that’s what we’re doing this year.
Huw Stephens put us in his Top 20 of the year, two singles from the album were in Steve Lamacq’s tracks of the year – ‘In Your Hands’ and ‘Popular Music’. He’s obviously been a big fan and we owe him quite a lot.
We did more in Europe, did our first headline show in Amsterdam and some really cool festival slots. There’s a good feeling about music right now, the uglier artists that are out on the edges are finally getting recognised so it’s good. We met Idles, and now we’re best friends.
We ran into someone at the British Music Embassy who was calling you their house band. How does that make you feel?
We feel it’s humbling to have that much support, to be called the house band when there’s bands queuing up for a slot on there and we’ve got three.
We see you’re also championing underdogs on your Instagram, so what’s the juxtaposition there about?
We’re proud of being on our own and taking ownership ourselves. It’s where we’re from, the city of Hull. It’s very proud but it seems like an underdog place. It’s hard when you speak about being in a band in Hull, and the industry and the labels and all that stuff, that doesn’t tend to link with Hull.
You don’t go around begging for stuff, we just earn it of our own right and try and do our own thing. If people want to come on board later then we’ll have those conversations, but it’s just about doing it anyway without waiting around for the industry. Hopefully we’re inspiring some of the other bands, and we’ve seen it.
You have to look outwards, take ownership of it and just do it.
It seems like the shows are getting bigger at home.
Yeah, we do our own nightclub pop party and the last one sold out so now we need to look for somewhere bigger. We don’t want to play any old show in Hull, so when we put it on we want to make it all about LIFE. It was a mix of bands, but we hosted it.
Is there something in particular you’re coming out here to achieve?
Because the album did so well in the UK with the resources we had at our disposal, we’d like to see the same again in America. (The record is) fast but it’s instant, so the idea is to get it out across America like we have done in the UK and Europe. That’s one of the aims for being out here for a week. We’re in that networking frame of mind.
But you’re still completely DIY in everything you’ve achieved so far?
We just got a manager two/three weeks ago, which has been great because it’s been a lot of work so far in terms of all the stuff people don’t ever think about being in a band, so it’s kind of a weight off our shoulders. Not that we’d stop working. That drives us on as well. But it’s come at the right time for us.
We got to a point where we could self-manage, but bringing on a manager that will work with us is good. We want them to be on board with what we’re doing long-term, and that’s what’s happening. We’ve never been against working with the industry, we’re just against the pre-historic way of working.
Are you guys warming up to streaming services?
That’s just the way the industry’s going. It’s hard because you don’t want to align yourself with that, but at the same time you still need it. It’s Catch-22, but for a band like us to say no to Spotify would just be ridiculous.
It seems like every day there is something new happening in the world. Are you getting material out of it?
I think we were interested in politics. It’s not like we’re sat with a notepad watching the news, but it all filters into what we see and what we do. With our lives, and who we know in England, and just generally the political climate, that informs it.
We don’t set out to write political songs, but because we’re naturally engaged anyway it just comes into the music that we make. There are bands that do that, but for that comes across as more fake, whereas for us it’s all very natural.
What do you think is the power of young people’s voices?
There’s a lot of young people who are angry at not having a voice at the moment. Recently we went to a conference which was about politicians and young people and how the gap is so vast. There’s a lot of ground movements coming in the UK as there are in the US. We say every night on stage that the young people are the most important resource this world has. They are the ones that are going to keep it spinning.
We see it a lot in Hull, a lot of the young people we work with are really passionate. We’re seeing more bands form in the studio where we work to be more political, more diverse, speaking up about themselves, about their lives. Just being a bit more daring and risky.
There’s definitely been a change, and politicians need to be aware of that and need to be asking working class young people, ‘what’s the future of the country?’. There has to be a change in how we look at things.
Are you writing anything new?
We’re currently working on six or seven demos, we’re getting a chunk of work done for the second album which we’re hoping to get out first thing next year. We’ve got a few things, festivals and stuff, but the main aim is to get the body of work done so we can push on.
We don’t want to lose momentum with music, it’s great to be playing live but we want to be releasing the next album. A lot of the new set has got a lot of new songs, so that’s a great way of testing how they are.
Lastly, have you got any good stories to share with us?
I (Mez) had a bad experience in Hamburg. I ended the night sh***ing everywhere, I sh*t myself in the bed. I didn’t mind it, it kept me on edge on stage. I was using muscles I’d never used before…
The Murder Capital - Live at The Exchange, Bristol
The idea of a band being a gang is the one of the oldest principles in music.
In the past it was outlined by literal uniformity; think The Beatles in their Nehru jackets, or the chain gang aesthetic of punk. The compulsory dress code isn’t so prevalent nowadays, but the gang mentality is still hearteningly rife.
Whilst generally dressed as if they come from different bands, The Murder Capital appear to have a ritual of locking foreheads in what is found to be an aggressive action in pubs and clubs throughout the land (and much like Pete ‘n’ Carl did back in the day), but tonight (7th October) is a telling insight into their intensity.
Before that, each member slowly takes to the stage as if participants in the Royal Rumble, with deafening feedback as their entrance music. Bassist Gabriel Paschal Byrne is the pick of the lot; he smiles evilly and manically at the crowd, playing the lead henchman to singer James McGovern’s mob boss. It comes across as pure calculated theatre and appears slightly misleading initially, but all drama is justified once the music starts: as each song kicks, each member of the quintet looks like they have been electrocuted, all flailing limbs and saliva.
Every member of the band plays their part. Guitarists Damien Tuite and Cathal Roper go back and forth across the stage to work in symbiosis as Byrne bobs up and down like he’s underwater. Drummer Diarmiud Brennan holds everything together, his non-stop tribal drumming a show of its own.
McGovern is determined to keep the spotlight on him, even during the early 80s, U2-esque ‘Slowdance II’ which as a pure instrumental has no requirement for his services. Nevertheless he stands completely still, eyes closed and lost in the music. He’s also a fine example of that most unheralded of musicians: the tambourine player. Never overstated or unnecessary, he hits the marks perfectly as he presumably does on the record.
The band’s industrial post-punk vignettes lend themselves well to such dramatics. McGovern half sings, half barks the choruses to openers ‘More Is Less’ and ‘Don’t Cling To Life’, but later ‘On Twisted Ground’ is delivered with a grace that is almost hymnal, the venue shrouded in darkness. As the song concludes McGovern’s weeps into the microphone reach an almost uncomfortable length, but that surely is the point. Comfort is not on the menu tonight, naked emotion and catharsis is.
Overly-dramatic perhaps, but nothing less than compelling.
Richard Hawley - Live at The O2 Academy, Bristol
The Sheffield cowboy rolls into town on the back of yet another accomplished album.
Released earlier this year, Further didn’t tread much new ground for Richard Hawley but nonetheless was another fine collection of songs that sat well alongside his older work, many of which are now being dusted down for this tour.
Before a note has been played tonight (October 2nd) Hawley asks the audience if they plan on being as good as the crowd in Dublin the night before. It’s the oldest trick in the book, but wryly asking when he has their maximum attention shows his experience. Needless to say, the crowd reply in the affirmative so he duly rips into the gonzo fried rock of ‘Off My Mind’.
Later on he further gets the crowd on side by recalling the story of why his daughter chose Bristol University: ‘You only have to pop to the shop and you’re wasted’. At another point he mentions his yearning for a Guinness and a member of the crowd obliges.
Not that he needs to get the crowd on side as his natural warmth and human touch goes beyond his troubadour tendencies and is the key characteristic of his music. The intimacy yet majesty of ‘Coles Corner’ and the shuddering skiffle of ‘I’m Looking For Someone To Find Me’ go straight for the heart, while the idealistic romanticism of the bone-rattling ‘Tonight The Streets Are Ours’ continues to be universal.
But in line with Further, which is a more electric-guitar focused than many of his other albums, tonight is an exercise in timeless British rock music. He encourages a large but barely heard clap-along for the stomping ‘Time Is’, while ‘Galley Girl’ is a rolling beast. Such is Hawley’s reputation as a romantic crooner that his expertise on the guitar is undervalued; every solo or lick is delivered by the man himself. ‘Open Up Your Door’ is given a fuzzy solo and he fully kisses the sky for the mighty ‘Heart Of Oak’.
A few choice cuts from the epic Standing At The Sky’s Edge of 2012 sit well alongside the newer material; the gothic drama of the title-track fills the venue, and encore closer ‘Down To The Woods’ is beastly in its ferociousness. ‘There’s A Storm A-Comin’ is also refined from gentle rolling sojourn to seismic symphony.
Yet the reputation is also justified: his growling baritone suits the rockier numbers but also has an elegant beauty and fragility which fit the acoustic reliant numbers such as ‘Emelina Away.’. Never less than compelling as a stage presence, Hawley is also deferential to his band. He gives his harmonica player free reign to go wild for ‘Coles Corner’, and what little Hawley doesn’t go on the electric is ably filled by his guitarists, while the drumming is water-tight and pitched perfectly for every song.
Watching professionals at work isn’t regarded as especially rock and roll, but consummate professionalism is no less of an impressive sight.
Interview - Danny Nedelko of Heavy Lungs
Let’s get the elephant in the room out of the way.
If you’ve given British rock music of the last twelve months even a cursory glance you’ll be familiar with the name Danny Nedelko. The title of IDLES’ crossover hit, it’s their tribute to the benefits of immigration and the beautiful friendships that can be forged through a collision of nationalities. But as you are likely to already know too, it’s also the name of Joe Talbot’s best friend, the frontman of the next Bristol punk sensation, Heavy Lungs.
The performance of said song at this year’s festival was, excuse the cliché, a ‘Glastonbury moment’. But as awe-inspiring as it was for those of us lucky enough to be in attendance, how did it feel for the subject matter? “That Glastonbury performance was, if not one of the seminal performances of that festival, in the history of the festival,” Danny Nedelko says in conversation with me.
“It was an incredible performance by my dear friends, and a beautiful moment in music. To hear that song…I was there in the crowd at the back and it brings a tear to my eye. Absolutely beautiful.”
Yet despite having much in common – namely place of origin and outlook on life – Heavy Lungs are not going to be hanging on their peers’ coat-tails. They’ve had a busy year so far, and 2019 is promising to end on a high. Released to coincide with an autumn tour is a new EP entitled Measure.
Their biggest project to date, it’s a pulsating blast of energy that goes straight for the heart. From the ferocious yet controlled chaos of ‘Self-Worth’, which channels Queens Of The Stone Age at their most bass-driven, to the arena-sized chorus of ‘T.O.T.B.’ and the measured power of ‘Half Full’, it’s a real evolution in their songwriting.
This isn’t by accident: Heavy Lungs are serious about their craft but also aware that they will forever be a work in progress. “I think it’s our best work, obviously it’s not perfect but I think it’s definitely a massive step-up for us,” Danny believes. “It’s bigger, it’s thicker. We are evolving. We are getting closer to slowly pinning down our sound or what makes us work. It’s basically a consistent evolution.”
Before you know where they’re going, it’s important to learn from where they came. The group gravitated towards each other via the Bristol music scene: “I used to put on shows before this for two years, odd ones and stuff, always dreaming to be in a band. George has been a drummer on the scene for a while. Ollie has been playing guitar since he was fourteen, in different bands, and is a great musician. James has also been in different bands. But for me it was my first proper band. The boys are incredible musicians, it’s a pleasure to be playing music with those three.”
Over the course of our conversation this is a point Danny keeps coming back to: how proud he is to be working with his friends who happen to be great musicians. Or the other way around. When questioned on how the songwriting works within the four-piece, he responds: “We write the songs beforehand, between all four of us. I write the lyrics but the rest is very joined. We all really inspire each other.”
The approach to lyrics is equally as earnest. There is no handbook or guide to composing lyrics, but Nedelko takes his responsibilities as a potentially-and-hopefully-influential songwriter seriously – in his eyes that means having a positive effect. We are all well-versed in the perils of 21st century western culture, mainly because they are rammed down our throats every day. If, in the UK, we’re not ‘getting ready for Brexit’, then we’re counting our social media likes. If we’re not experiencing FOMO online then we’re watching others argue on it. But it’s all through (and is designed to be observed through) the spectrum of self-worth.
“I’m observing a tiny bit, but also hopefully not in a preaching way at all,” Danny explains. “Mainly for myself and for some of my friends around me. People don’t give themselves enough credit for achieving what they’re doing. Constantly comparing themselves to somebody else when your own pace is fine.”
“There is a different argument of constantly pushing yourself and becoming better. That’s a different argument, but here it’s mainly people just realising that they are doing better than they think they are. It’s a reminder to be proud of what you’re doing and be confident in yourself, but also to always learn and grow.”
“Hopefully people take something from it and it will make them feel better about themselves. I don’t want to say inspire them because it sounds preachy and pretentious, but hopefully it gives them a more positive outlook on their life. The insecurity that social media creates as well…people should just look within for strength.”
Measure adds flourishes to the sound; the chiming guitar on Pacemaker sounds eerily like Bloc Party, while Nedelko’s sneering vocals on ‘(A Bit Of A) Birthday’ sound like other mid-noughties roustabouts Peter Doherty and Johnny Borrell, and on ‘Half-Full’ Nedelko channels the slightly pained, slightly cynical but powerful moods of Faris Badwan. As with the music, Danny’s singing style is also evolving: “I’m conscious of it. I am trying to grow. I have so much to learn and so much to improve in my vocals. It’s a constant struggle but I just want to be a better singer and musician.”
Heavy Lungs are moving into the next stage of their career. Now with a website up and running (“it feels digital as hell, look at us being official!”), their forthcoming tour will take them further afield. “It’s really exciting to play in Europe,” Danny opines. “Of course back home will be amazing as well, but it’s the excitement of playing those European places for the first time for me.”
“We’re just trying to play, despite how clichéd this may sound, the best show you can do. That is true, despite how big the crowd may be. Especially in the company of other great bands. Every show you learn. Every show you try to improve and better yourself. Every time.
“There are so many bands that I like. IDLES are a continuous and incredible inspiration. Every time I see those guys it’s just better. Every single time I see them, that show becomes my favourite show. Bands like Ice Age, The Oh Sees, Giant Swan, Crows, some of the many influences. I’m talking about live, in the studio it’s a different beast.”
So we have some clues as to the direction, but what’s the one thing that attendees are guaranteed to get from the gigs? “Tinnitus…Absolutely good vibes.”
Presuming ears recover the logical next step is an album. While the idea seems to weigh heavy on Danny’s mind, he also seems undaunted: “It’s always in the back of our minds. We are fully aware that’s what’s expected! Not a single day goes by without thinking about it.”
“Stay tuned, be patient. Of course we want to do an album but it just needs to be special. The album is a really big statement for the band so we need to approach it carefully, patiently and passionately. I’m hoping when the time comes we’ll deliver.”
Heavy Lungs are one of many upcoming guitar bands that are throwing stones at the mainstream whilst staying in their corner of the playground. We now live in an era where authenticity and artistry are once again valued, regardless of genre. Yet the message and the values are always the same: “Lots of love. We all really love having this cathartic experience on stage and if somebody takes something from that, the thirty or forty minutes that we do, it hopefully brightens their day and inspires them.”
“If not, I just hope they have a good time.”
One True Pairing - One True Pairing
As missed as they are, it’s fair to say that Wild Beasts were shrewd when departing last year.
Critically lauded with a loyal fanbase, for a few years their releases were eagerly anticipated but each was found wanting when it came to crossover success.
The band’s departure was and is a loss; they could be relied on to always be interesting, musically speaking, at the very least even if festival headline slots were out of their reach, always that bit too artistic to ever be part of the mainstream. So, following the lead of peers The Maccabees, they opted to part on their own terms with a legacy intact.
Yet such creativity is not easily quelled, and after Hayden Thorpe released his debut earlier in 2019 we now have another member’s solo record. Although all songwriting credits went to the band, both records give us an insight into who exactly did what.
Diviner demonstrated that Thorpe was the more ‘traditional’ songwriter, whereas based on the evidence of One True Pairing, Tom Fleming (for it is he) was the one pushing the band to new ideas and to become more machine-driven. Freed from the constraints of the band dynamic, he’s turned the ignition on and is in full drive-time rock mode.
Yes dear reader, we are once again back in the 1980s. Fashion may have forgotten it but music certainly hasn’t. So evocative and dominant was the synthesizer nearly forty years ago that it’s impossible to differentiate sound from era and the guitar – specifically, and topically, the crisp sound of The Cars – is also frequently on display here.
Lead single ‘I’m Not Afraid’ was an early indicator, a slice of driving, Don Henley-esque FM rock. ‘Black Walls’ adds chugging synths into the pot for good measure while ‘Dawn At The Factory’ manages to meld the concise guitars of Dire Straits with the doom-electronica of late-period Editors. The soothing bass is at odds with the rest of the song, but the reward is a slippery, face-melting solo that transforms it into something of an odyssey.
The subtle, dubby chimes of ‘Zero Summer’ and the oriental timbre of the title-track keep things interesting, but the standout is ‘King Of The Rats’, a blissfully sparse piano piece of brittle beauty that emphasises, despite all the effects, there is no substitute for the human touch.
It’s vocally where the album stands out. Fleming has a distinctive, operatic voice which can sometimes veer into Elvis territory but is never less than engaging. It also suits the subject matter of a good number of the songs, the trappings and expectations of masculinity (‘I’m trying to be gentle, I’m trying to be good’), as he once again explores some of the themes which Wild Beasts often investigated.
Fleming’s voice is deep enough to convey ‘typical’ masculinity but fragile enough to project the subject matter, making this an accomplished piece of work.
(Sandy) Alex G - House Of Sugar
We hear a lot these days about existential dread.
Whether unfounded or not, the last few years have seen the western world indulge in a huge amount of self-reflection both driven and exacerbated by the twin effects of the conduct of those in charge and the all-consuming impact of social media. The general consensus is that things are changing for the worse.
As always the situation is more nuanced than that, and few understand this better than (Sandy) Alex G. Despite a having-his-cake-and-eating-it attitude towards his moniker (both stage name and real name included), he’s successfully tapped into that disenfranchisement and channelled it into glorious soundscapes.
When taking his first steps into music Alexander Giannascoli was one of thousands of ‘bedroom artists’ but soon began to differentiate himself from the crowded field, soon heralded as ‘the internet’s secret best songwriter’.
After self-releasing four albums Giannascoli signed first to Orchid Tapes and then to Domino, who are well known for allowing their artists free reign. Remarkably, given the amount of care that seems to have gone into House Of Sugar, it’s his ninth this decade.
Like all great albums it’s so fully immersive that it’s impossible not to be drawn into its world. Although at first there’s a false start – opening track ‘Walk Away’ commencing with Giannascoli wailing like a banshee over a forceful acoustic strum – it breaks out to become an off-shoot of OK Computer, all shuffling guitars and backwards drums supported by mutterings that could easily be Thom Yorke. The mantra ‘walk away, not today’ is repeated over and over again, and the marching feel of the album informs us that we are about to enter a special world.
Some songs are mantra-heavy (i.e. lyrically simple), others have traditional structures, but it’s the sonic experimentalism, including the pitched shifted vocals, that is the star attraction here. It’s used to convey mood incredibly effectively.
The fiddles on ‘Southern Sky’ accompany the piano and create an emotive atmosphere of plaintive regret, whereas Near is a percussion-led dreamy jam which generates the dichotomy of reassuring discomfort. Best of all is the instrumental ‘Project 2’, a filmic, electronic angst shuffle that wouldn’t sound out of place on Kid A.
With two comparisons made in this piece, you can see that Sandy is harnessing those masters of mood, Radiohead, rather than his usual influence Elliott Smith, though he’s still here in spirit by virtue of the attention to detail, albeit perversely drowned in foggy production. His lo-fi roots betray themselves on ‘In My Arms’ which is all ragged chord progressions delivered at a much slower-pace, a more traditional ‘song’ than the slices of sonic psychedelia that surround it.
Thematically the album picks apart the conflicts at the centre of a person’s soul: the twin anxieties of being uncomfortable in one’s own skin whilst being curious about, and in fear of, how you may be perceived by others. It’s touched on lyrically but it’s really the album’s technique of adding alternating layers (one of warmth, one of disharmony) that demonstrate the nature of humanity, being both sugary sweet and sinisterly discomforting.
House Of Sugar is paced like a film, building softly and acoustically before liberally adding layers of effects and electronica (reaching its zenith on the regal ‘Sugar’) until it’s at a point where the clouds of fog are all-consuming. Only then are we allowed to draw a breath and reflect.
Once again, the ambiguity of Sandy (Alex G)’s world is gorgeously mesmerising.
The Faim - State Of Mind
Hailing from Australia, The Faim have been plugging away for a number of years.
Vocalist Josh Raven and bassist Stephen Beerkens grew up together and began writing music after stumbling upon an enthusiasm for doing so following a school assignment. Over the course of time they enlisted a guitarist and drummer and the band was born.
Their approach to garnering attention was a well-trodden path: handing out flyers outside gigs and recording snippets of tracks to release online. The remote location of their hometown, with a relatively nondescript music scene, worked to their advantage and they were able to enlist a producer who pulled some strings for a helping hand.
And what strings there were. Flying to over to L.A. with half-finished ideas, the band were lucky enough to work with Pete Wentz of Fall Out Boy and Mark Hoppus of Blink 182 amongst others. The fruits of this labour came in the form of an EP last year, the title-track of which, (‘Summer Is A Curse’), has been streamed an astonishing 15 million times.
They’ve been building momentum over the summer, playing Download and Reading & Leeds with a headline tour in the autumn, and from a commercial perspective being chosen as the soundtrack to Coca-Cola’s advertising campaign for their Zero range means they have been and will be ubiquitous.
The songs chosen for this album have been in gestation over a four-year period, yet the key modus operandi is ‘go epic.’ That doesn’t necessarily mean everything is bombastic, although there’s more than enough gusto here. Lead single ‘Humans’ sets the standard; an earnest, steady verse with hip-hop tempo precedes a chorus which explodes into life. It’s historically been a successful formula for their external consultants (and make no mistake, the spirit of Fall Out Boy is the bedrock of State Of Mind), but The Faim deviate slightly, using modern pop instrumentation rather than guitars to attempt to bring the sound into 2019.
This better than anything demonstrates the key strength on display: the experience and savviness of the production team bringing these songs to life, sanding off any rough edges to provide a nous that the band’s exuberance may lack.
It’s successful (clearly very successful judging by the amount of streams), but owing so much to Pete Wentz and co does at points sail quite close to the wind. Fortunately there is enough enthusiasm to sustain the record, and promisingly they sound more comfortable on tracks such as ‘Where The River Runs’, an out and out piano ballad as opposed to the pop-rock power ones that are the default setting. The band themselves make no bones about being original, and earnestness doesn’t and shouldn’t age.
The album is just the icing on the cake, a necessity in what is and will no doubt continue to be a huge rise for The Faim. After all, 15 million listeners can’t be wrong.
Wolf Alice & Supergrass - Pilton Party 2019
The annual Pilton Party is a miniaturised Glastonbury and serves as both an epilogue to the preceding festival and a prologue for the following year.
Taking place on Worthy View (around the Other Stage area if you’re interested) it’s primarily a thank you to the local residents for putting up with the upheaval of accommodating 200,000 people. The field has recovered and it’s quite a sight to see the Pyramid Stage stripped bare.
Headliners Wolf Alice have kept a low profile for the majority of 2019, presumably to record the follow-up to the Mercury-winning album Visions Of A Life. But there are no teasers for a new album here, it’s a straight forward run through of the choice picks from their material thus far and they rattle through it in an hour.
An indie-grunge band at heart, the power of ‘Space & Time’, ‘Yuk Foo’ and ‘Bros’ have been given added muscle as the band have risen through the ranks, but the dream-pop of ‘Don’t Delete The Kisses’ loses some of its emotional power live. There’s also the odd choice of trimming down arguably their best song, ‘Silk’, to just guitar and vocals, meaning it loses a lot of its impact in the process.
That’s not to say Wolf Alice vocals are a weakness, far from it. Ellie Rowsell has an incredible voice and range that the recordings don’t do justice to. Looking like a young Gwen Stefani, complete with high ponytail and crop top, she fully engages with the music and leaves most of the crowd engagement to bassist Theo Ellis. They are undaunted with a headline slot, which bodes well for 2020.
However, and this is meant as no slight, they’ve already been upstaged by the time they take to it, for the ‘Special Guests’ of the day are returning heroes: Supergrass are back.
Michael Eavis introduces them as ‘the best band of the 90s’, which is questionable, but there’s a strong case to be made for them as one of the best singles bands of all time, as tonight (September 6th) reminds us. They only perform tracks from their first three albums, but for a festival set that’s more than enough. The show serves as a reminder of how much we took them for granted first time round.
As Gaz Coombes frequently reminds us it’s their first gig in ten years, but you wouldn’t know it for two main reasons. Firstly, being one of the youngest bands from the Britpop generation, all the band are still under fifty and look good on it. Secondly, there is not an ounce of fat on the songs. ‘Caught By The Fuzz’ is still a wonderful slice of frantic indie, ‘Pumping On Your Stereo’ is pure glam and ‘Richard III’ gets the adrenaline flowing as much today as it did in 1997. These are simply great rock songs that have stood the test of time.
Apart from one, of course. Gaz wryly introduces it as ‘an obscure album track’, but ‘Alright’ instantly transports us back to those heady days of opportunity and hope. Over-exposure has dulled its power but as singalongs go there are few finer. Which again augurs well for next year.
Pilton Party provides the first clues about the following year’s Glastonbury line-up. Wolf Alice are likely to headline a stage and, unlikely as it is, Mr Eavis could do a lot worse than have Supergrass top the bill. They’ve got the chops (ahem), they’ve got the talent and they’ve got the songs.
‘Welcome back’ doesn’t do their return justice.