Don’t you just love it when a new band come along who sound oddly like a band you used to love, but disappeared pretty much without a trace after doing just one proper album?
Those bands are Canyon and Color Radio. Canyon appeared in the early part of the decade, released one LP with a purdy lady on the cover:
The music was a narcotic, woozy variant of countrified America, the kind of thing that My Morning Jacket and Neil Young have traded in for years. But there was something else, an undercurrent of post-rock ominous tunefulness, and made them stand out from their peers. Sadly, they seem to have pretty much broken up – not officially, at least, but enough to not make any more records together.
And now, from Mexico City via Chicago, come Color Radio, who deal in a narcotic, woozy variant of Americana. Not quite as woozy as Canyon’s, but fantastic nonetheless. Currently unsigned (believe it or not), they’ve just released their second EP “Be Safe, Beware”
Here’s two tracks from the record. The other two are just as excellent and the whole thing is very much worth your $5. Pretty damn fine t-shirts too. There’s a tour of the East Coast (of the US) coming up, so make sure to check them out. Hopefully someone will pick them up for support on a tour of Europe.
Speaking of listening to old bands again, I’ve got a right doozy of a band to post about next week. But next up will be the Frightened Rabbit at the Troxy review. Come back soon, and don’t forget to subscribe to the email updates!
At the moment, I’m reading Tom Holland’s “Millennium”, which concerns itself with the history of Europe from the Dark Ages through the millennium (at 1000AD, not the one nine years ago). One of the fascinating little nuggets of information that he’s so good at peppering his books with was about the Viking invasion and settlement of northern England. Apparently, despite our perception that the Vikings were a smelly, rampaging horde of barbarians, they bathed once a week, wore eyeliner and took a lot of care over their hair. This, of course, made them rather popular with the local ladies, and so Englishmen befriended them to get make-up and hair-care tips! Now, I bet you never thought that Vikings were in fact a bunch of poodle-rockers.
And on that note, following on from my recent posts about Mew and Mixtapes and Cellmates, here’s another bunch of Scandinavians, who are rampaging over the North Sea carrying Fender Jazzmasters and copies of My Bloody Valentine’s “Loveless”. Whether they are going to run off with our ladies too is purely open to conjecture.
Aerial have the same effortless tunefulness that their compatriots deal in, and I’m really starting to wonder what’s going on over there. “All Refrain” is but two minutes long, brings to mind Pavement and Guided By Voices and Beulah and is a good two minutes too short. It’s from their new LP “Put It This Way In Headlines” (which is up there in the “Not quite understandable” stakes with “You Forgot It In People”) which is out right now.
Bloody hell, it’s a good song. Not sure about the Liverpool mug in the video though.
One of the overriding themes of this blog is the fact that, quite frankly, I’m getting on a bit. Yeah, sure, I’m not quite reading Q or Mojo yet, but I’ll be 40 in a few years and that mid-life crisis is going to start gnawing at my toes soon. If I start doing posts about my knees hurting or how I’m going to go out and buy me a Porsche, then you know it’s hit me right between the eyes.
In the interim I shall just do posts like these, in which I bemoan the fact that a great alt-rock record was released 25 years ago. 25 years! Sheesh, blimey, and so on.
Smoking Popes
But this one is a bit special to me, mainly because I only discovered it earlier in the year. During one of my jaunts through the Pitchfork 500, one song in particular jumped out, dragged me into a mosh pit, drank my beer and tried to get off with my missus. Yep, “I Will Dare” is that kind of song. So, of course, I went off and bought the extended version of “Let It Be”, and being something of a fan of The Hold Steady and the like, I’ve been rather enjoying it.
And it seems like I’m not the only one who’s still loving the record. Out in The Replacement’s home town, Minneapolis, there’s what looks like a top night celebrating the anniversary at First Avenue. Featuring a ton of bands, pick of the bunch being High On Stress.
Stress Live
Like their heroes, they’ve got that gift of mixing guitars, bass, drum and vocals, and turning out great tunes with that special magic touch. What is it with Minneapolis and great rock bands? Is it in the water or something? Anyway, here’s a video of them playing live with The Replacement’s own Slim Dunlap:
Here’s “Eyeliner Blues” from High On Stress and a couple of beauts from “Let It Be”, including a great cover of “20th Century Boy” from the expanded version. And if you live around Minneapolis, why not pop down to First Avenue next Friday night (27th November)? I would, but I’m off to The Gun.
Going to a concert whilst wearing a suit is an interesting experience, especially after previously being at a do at the Polish Embassy (yes, really). Ignoring the puzzled glances from my fellow gig-goers at the Shepherds Bush Empire, I settled into the capacity crowd, sadly not at the front. What, you think I’m going to get creases in these trousers?
Mew, in case you didn’t already know, are one of the most adventurous rock bands around these days. Their songs blend heartstoppingly brilliant bits with slightly more tedious bits. Their best songs blend heartstoppingly brilliant bits with even more brilliant bits. If you get bored at any point, you are safe in the knowledge that in a minute or so they will change the tempo and the key, and probably everything else they can think of. Sometimes their songs go from strange to utterly fantastic gradually, so you are suddenly aware that a tune that had only moments earlier made no sense whatsoever had become akin to the music played at the gates of heaven.
Having seen them live before, I kind of knew what to expect, so my main concern was whether their new material would stand up to the live treatment. And my other main concern was, do they still have the freaky videos?
To which the answers were yes, and oh sweet Mary mother of Jesus, stop it with the mouths.
Kicking off with “Intro/Reprise”, they soon kick into gear with “Hawaii”. What shocks you immediately is their ability to translate their hugely complex songs into a live performance. Jonas’s voice is a truly wondrous thing; crystal clear and pitch perfect. And they are loud. Properly, knee-shakingly, chest-tremblingly loud, almost up there with The Twilight Sad. Which is good, as I don’t have to listen to the people behind me wittering on. About halfway through, the screens behind the band suddenly flash to life, showing men dancing around with deer’s skulls. It’s really quite odd. And up go the hairs on my arms for the first of about fifty times.
Scary Dancing Things!
Next up comes a sequence of songs that a less talented band would have broken up and scattered throughout the show, but Mew have such utter confidence in the strength of their material that they can joyfully play four of their best songs in a row without worrying about keeping folks interested. Those songs are, of course, the New Order-esque “Special”, “The Zookeeper’s Boy”, “Am I Wry? No” and “156″.
“Special” kicks off with a down and dirty guitar riff, far rougher than on record, and during the song everyone starts clapping. You can’t beat a bit of audience participation. “The Zookeeper’s Boy” is played with a backdrop of dolls, with toy animal heads with human mouths, singing along. It’s really quite, quite disturbing. And odd. The song ends with four of the band singing counterpoint1, and it’s really quite, quite astonishing. I was at this point standing there with my mouth hanging open. I can only hope there wasn’t any dribble coming out.
Then the opening riff to “Am I Wry? No” starts, and the place goes, as they say, mental. Now, this being the first song of theirs I ever heard, it’s got that special place in my heart, and I love it when a band can translate everything you love about the song on record into an even better live version. I had to stop myself singing along (not that this would have mattered, frankly). And “156″ is stripped down – yes, Mew can strip songs down, believe it or not – until about half way through when the guitars come in and tear through the ominous quiet of the first half.
Scary Children!
After that, songs came thick and fast, and unfortunately I don’t have an accurate set list (despite those marvellous people at the Mew Forum). “Introducing Palace Players” has such a bizarre, discordant riff that it makes me wonder how the guitarist introduced it to the rest of the band at a practice. “Hey, Jonas, it’ll sound much better when you start yodelling over the top, honest”. I would dearly love to walk past a guitar shop and hear some spotty teenage axe hound trying to play it. Maybe that’s why this lot aren’t selling out the O2 like Muse – whilst the latter also make hugely complex, ornate music, you can still just about knock out one of their riffs. This lot? No hope. Still, I’d much rather be here than at the O2.
There was even an exceedingly odd moment with a talking bear thing. I really have no idea what the hell was going on – see if you can make sense of it yourself.
So, on went the wonderful songs, and the bonkers videos. Wolves, lampreys, more dolls with animal heads, and the guitarist dancing around with a mask on was a real eye-opener. “Silas The Magic Car” was a gratefully recieved quieter moment, and I was struck by just how great this lot sound singing together. Take that, Fleet Foxes! “Repeaterbeater” swooshed by like a train filled with mutant guitarists. The icy ferocity of “Snow Brigade” shook us to the core, and then the band left the stage. But we all know what was to come next; well, at least those of us who’d seen them before.
A Cat! Playing A Violin!
On came Bo Madsen to play the “Comforting Sounds”, and Jonas sauntered on just in time to start singing. Then, as his singing reached the climax, the rest of the band came on, and anyone in the venue who had even the slightest doubt about Mew being absolute masters at this lark had those doubts thrown into the skip outside. The starfield behind the band suddenly changed to more animals, but this time they were actually cute little things, all playing violins. Look, a teddy with little round glasses! A bunny with a twitchy nose! A strange corpse skull thing! I was struck by the thought that this is possibly the best gig-ending song I’ve ever experienced.
All I have to say about Mew is this. They should go on tour with someone properly, massively huge, like U2, or Coldplay, or the aforementioned Muse, as they would blow the headline act totally and utterly out of the water. Whilst I wish huge success on all the bands I love, I really wouldn’t want to see Twilight Sad or Tindersticks or whoever play Wembley Arena or the O2. But Mew could just fill a place like that with a song like “Comforting Sounds”. And whilst their music is complicated and sometimes bizarre, so are Muse, and I know who I’d much rather go and see. Please go and see them for yourself and find out what I’m on about and why I have written this huge article. You won’t regret a second. Except the bits with the mouths. Stop it with the mouths, will you?
I still remember the fuss when Charlotte Hatherley joined boyish Irish indie-popsters Ash. “What’s that girly doing up there playing guitar?” whined all the indie-boys. “Ooh, wish that was me” said all the indie-girls. “Couldn’t give a shit, me, as long as she can play guitar like a mean funky devil” said I. And lo, upon seeing Ash at the Reading Festival, it was pretty bleedin’ obvious that she could. Watching her lay into the riff from “Walking Barefoot” was wonderful; one of modern rock’s great riffs, if flows and twists, all melody and yearning. The fact that she channelled the insouciance of prime Chrissie Hynde as a 19-year old was pretty damn cool too.
So it’s nice to see her continuing her solo career with great songs like “White” and “Alexander”. The former is a slice of Wire-y, Elastica-y, Blondie-y post-punk goodness with added slinky chorus for good measure. Great video too:
And new single “Alexander” is what The Sundays would have sounded like if they’d actually got round to having sex:
Now, Charlotte has gone on record to complain about file-sharers and the like, so I’d like to give something back by saying, please go and see her live at one of the following shows:
17 Nov 2009 The Masque Liverpool
18 Nov 2009 Frog and Nightingale Chester
19 Nov 2009 The Brudenell Social Club Leeds
20 Nov 2009 Twisterella Blackburn
21 Nov 2009 Lennons Southampton
22 Nov 2009 The Railway Inn Winchester
The concept of a band playing their material with a full orchestra has a long and not necessarily glorious history. When the band has songs that make the most of a full orchestra, it can work rather nicely. Think of Elbow’s show this year with the BBC Concert Orchestra, or Tindersticks playing at the Bloomsbury Theatre. But just bunging strings on top of basic meat and potatoes rock just doesn’t cut it, as many bands during the Britpop era discovered, to their (and our) cost.
Grizzly Bear are about as far from meat and potatoes rock as you can get. Now, as I’ve postedabout them about 100 timesthisyear, I don’t really need to go into describing their extraordinary music again. So, dear reader, on with the review without any more guff from me.
First things first. Isn’t the Barbican a freaky old place? It’s like a strange concrete oasis sat in the weird bit of London between The City and the West End. At first sight it looks like some nightmarish sink estate in Bradford or Loughborough, but then you sneak a look in an estate agents window and see that a one-bedroom flat goes for £500,000. Half a million! Sheesh. Then you notice the lack of litter and graffiti, and the nice little signs directing you along the raised walkways. Indeed, after a while you start to think it’s like running round a level of Quake 3 but without the monsters shooting at you.
And the actual Barbican centre itself is really quite nice. I like venues where you can have a sandwich, a slice of cake, and a nice sit down.
Sorry, enough with the guff.
So, what do Grizzly Bear sound like with the LSO? Well, let me put it this way. Every time I go to see a band, there’s a little, totally unscientific test I carry out. It’s pretty simple and there really isn’t a way I can easily replicate it. But it works and frankly I can’t think of anything better.
It’s this. At what point during the show does the hair on my arms stand up? Music is a visceral thing that affects people in all sorts of ways, on an emotional level that no other artform can match. I got it about thirty seconds into the opener “Easier”, which says a great deal about how beautiful those opening moments were. “Cheerleader” was simply stunning, a much softer proposition than at Koko, with Daniel Rossen’s guitar stabs toned down to suit the occasion. Hairs still raised, then.
Then came “Southern Point”, and the drawbacks of playing with an orchestra come to the fore. The complexity of the song, mixed with a presumable lack of rehersal time, made the song a bit too cluttered and ineffective. It doesn’t help that Daniel Rossen’s guitar has been moved further down the mix, removing the brutal dynamic of his playing.
Normal service was resumed during “Central and Remote”, with the orchestra again providing beautiful backing to one of the band’s more dynamic numbers. Better still, the jamjar lights surrounding the bands started circling, matching the rhythm of the song, to hypnotic effect. They made me think of fireflies lighting up a tropical night. The coda to “All We Ask” was astonishing, with a subtle backing to the band’s vocal harmonies.
But the highlight came with “Knife”, and on their best known song the band and their new friends pull out all the stops. Whether it’s because the song is so well known, or whether it just suits the orchestral treatment, “Knife” was an absolute triumph (dahling). From gently plucked strings echoing the staccato guitar line near the start, to a soft swell of violins building behind and above Chris Taylor’s beautifully treated vocals, the song was a glorious demonstration of everything that this band can do with an orchestra.
Both “Two Weeks” and “While You Wait For The Others” were played sans orchestra, presumably to give them a bit of a rest. They spent their time smoking cigarettes, playing poker, and scratching their names into their chairs. Oh ok, they sat back and enjoyed the songs (especially the conductor, who looked like he was having a whale of a time).
The set came to an end with the trio of “He Hit Me” (Ed Droste in wonderful form), “I Live With You” (really quite pleasantly noisy), ending with a wonderfully understated “Foreground”. A standing ovation ensued, with the band returning with a decent version of “Colorado”, which, as it isn’t exactly my favourite song, I was glad to enjoy more than I expected.
So, was it a success? By and large, yes. Some songs, like “Knife” worked so well they totally overshadowed the songs that didn’t, like “Dory”. And the song selection was a bit odd too; the aforementioned “Dory” isn’t one of their best songs in any way, shape or form, yet a song like “Marla”, which would have worked beautifully with a full orchestra, was bafflingly left off the set list. But as the band themselves said, this opportunity doesn’t come along very often, and I’m so very glad that the hairs on my arms stood up. You can’t hide an emotional response like that, and you can’t hide from the fact that Grizzly Bear are one of the finest bands this decade – with violin-toting buddies or without.
On another note, isn’t the Twilight New Moon soundtrack looking interesting?
Authenticity is a funny old thing. In most musical genres you care to mention, there’s always a die-hard bunch of fans who complain that these new artists aren’t as good as the old ones, things were much better in the old days, blah de blah de blah. Of course, they are missing the whole point that the artists they so venerate were in fact reacting to the status quo of their own time, and were trying something new and revolutionary. Wanting new music to be like the old is just hypocrisy.
Run-D.M.C. – It’s Like That
Crash Crew – On the Radio
Rammelzee vs. K-Rob – Beat Bop
Boogie Down Productions – South Bronx
In that respect, hip hop is exactly the same. Even today, you still get people harping back to the old days of these artists, with Run DMC often spoken of in revered tones. Yet these acts – Run DMC in particular – were trying something new in a genre that had only really started to get mainstream attention. With Run DMC, it was mixing hard, tough beats a million miles away from the jauntiness of earlier hip-hop, mixed with some of the best rapping ever committed to vinyl.
Listening afresh to “It’s Like That”, you’re struck by how little fat there is on the record. It’s totally stripped to the bone (unlike the superfluous and pointless Jason Nevins remix). You could drive an Escalade through the gaps between the beats. You really don’t need me to tell you this is a great record, do you?
Crash Crew’s “On The Radio”, by comparison, is much more like the hip-hop that preceded it. You know the drill, a bunch of rappers, a funky backing track, and lots of bragging. Perfectly nice in its own way, and the record cover is frankly superb. There aren’t enough scrambling bikes in music these days, you know.
As for Rammelzee vs. K-Rob’s “Beat Bop” – blimey, it doesn’t half go on. A bit like a cross between Rappers Delight and the The Message, it’s entertaining enough, and certainly forward-looking, but sheesh, 10 minutes?
Boogie Down Productions “South Bronx” is notable for KRS-One’s fantastic rapping style. Rather than going 10 to the dozen, trying to get as many words out as possible, he makes a statement.
Then pauses.
Then makes another statement.
Then pauses.
In the 300mph world of rapping, he was a revolutionary; by being that bit more thoughtful, he gives you space to consider every word he says. And he had a lot to say; this track is a furious denouncement of MC Shan and his track “The Bridge”. Poor Shan had the temerity to state that the Queensbridge Projects was the birthplace of rap. Bad move, Shan. Backed by Ced Gee (of the Ultramagnetic MC’s), KRS-One goes off on one, and after an opening tirade (“So you think that hip-hop had it’s start out in Queensbridge\If you popped that junk up in the Bronx you might not live”), he goes on to explain how hip-hop really got started in New York. It’s a direct forerunner of the East Coast/West Coast beefs of the 90’s.
I called this article “Evolution”. And what I mean is that these tracks are a bit like the first fish that crawled out on land – a bit ungainly and caught between the simple elegance of what preceded them and the huge diversity that would follow them (I’m really not sure that the Crash Crew would want to be likened to a lungfish, but I’ll bet they’ve never been called that before.)
Because next up it’s the fury and rage and power of Public Enemy, then the polar opposites of A Tribe Called Quest and De La Soul, and with them, the realisation that there’s rather a lot more to this music than bragging and slagging. These acts showed the way, with small and big changes here and there that started to turn rap into a huge global megaforce.
In case you haven’t already heard, Morrissey collapsed onstage during a show in Swindon last night. Here’s been unwell this year – having to cancel shows due to illness – and he’s currently in hospital under observation. Let’s hope that whatever he is suffering from is treated quickly and that he gets better soon. For all his faults, he is an amazing lyricist and one of the most original and influential musicians of the last 30 years. He’s given me countless hours of solace and joy, made me laugh and cry (sometimes at the same time) and generally made this world a much finer place to be in.
Indeed
So, as a get well soon tribute, I looked in my iTunes to see what I could post. And the first song I thought about posting was “Still Ill”.
Sigh.
Then I thought, right, a much more chirpy number will be better. “Cemetry Gates”?
Oh dear, this really won’t do.
“Panic”?
I really need to get a grasp of myself here.
So eventually I’m settling on two of his greatest songs, one from their greatest album which deftly defines my issues this morning, and one “Ask”, probably the last excellent Smiths song, which neatly encompasses everything that is great and wonderful about their music – that line “Spending warm summer days indoors” says pretty much all you need to know about him, and The Smiths. I love spending warm summer days indoors, me, much to the chagrin of Mrs Loftandlost.
I’ve not been so enamoured of his solo work, but occasionally one pops up and smacks me in the gob, so to speak. Unfortunately the last one to do that is called “First Of The Gang To Die”.
Writing a music blog has its ups and downs. Sometimes, you get the feeling that every song you listen to, you’re doing it to see if it will fit into the blog and you spend your time trying to find an interesting thing to say about it (and usually failing). For the worrisome types like me, that can get very wearing.
But other times, you hear something new and within the first ten seconds you just think “This is special. Really, really special”. I’ve had it in the past with the likes of Grizzly Bear and Broken Social Scene. I got that today with Frightened Rabbit.
Hailing from the same record label – Fat Cat Records – as The Twilight Sad and We Were Promised Jetpacks, they come from the charming Borders town of Selkirk. Maybe it’s the beautiful rolling countryside or the elegant Courtroom in the Market Place (you can tell I’ve been on Wikipedia, can’t you?), but they are an altogether cheerier proposition than their labelmates.
The Glory Of Selkirk
That’s not saying much, mind.
So anyway, I caught the video to their new song “Swim Until You Can’t See Land”, and it blew me away. I mean, the video is a thing of sheer beauty, with that crystal clear digital look illuminated by swaying torches, but the song is something else.
Starting with a chiming guitar line reminiscent of Johnny Marr’s gentler moments, the song turns into a rollicking singalong replete with strings by Hauschka and a horn section. I can’t stop playing it. As singer Scott explains:
“’Swim Until You Can’t See Land’ was the title I had in my mind before I even started writing the album; I was becoming more and more interested in the idea of a rejection of the habits and behaviour most people see as normal, and in turn embracing a certain madness. It’s about losing your mind in order to reset the mind and the body. Forget what’s gone before and wash it out. This is not necessarily a geographical journey, as the ‘swim’ can involve any activity in which you can lose yourself. It’s a good introduction to the record as the theme unravels therein.”
That’s what you get if you go and live in tiny seaside towns in Fyfe. Must try that myself, as it seems to have done him the world of good.
No Wonder They Are Frightened With That Lot Behind Them
Then, digging around a bit, I found a b-side, a marvellous cover of N-Trance’s “Set You Free”, which somehow turns a Euro-trance number into something Bonnie “Prince” Billy would have knocked out in his prime. Utterly fantastic.
Anyway, the single is out in November and there’s a whole bunch of live shows here. Must get me a ticket for that Troxy show.
I really like this blog writing business, you know. And I think I’m going to be exploring this lot’s back catalogue….
On another note, thinking of Selkirk reminded me of the phrase “Gone To Falkirk”, which reminded me of this:
I’ve been resisting the temptation to write about the Pavement reunion. Resisted until now, at least, because whilst them playing shows in Austin or New York or Lamar, Nebraska is kind of interesting in a “Pavement reforming and not doing any shows in the UK? Well, that’s nice” way, they’ve just announced a show at Brixton Academy on May 11th, 2010, which is rather more interesting for me.
Some Pavement, Yesterday
But serious, one show?
Look chaps, when The Pixies reformed they did four shows there and they sold out at around 1 Planck Time. So, come on boys, pull your fingers out and do some more shows, eh?
Eh?
Another Pavement
But it will be fun to see them live again. I only saw them once, at a Reading Festival when they had a power cut on stage and had to spend 10 minutes goofing around. Not that they had any trouble doing that, mind you. A great, great band, managing to be shambolic and musical and lyrical in quite a way no-one else has matched. Except The Fall, of course.
Anyhow, tickets go on sale on Friday from the usual moneygrabbing shysters ticket agencies. Good luck!
”, which concerns itself with the history of Europe from the Dark Ages through the millennium (at 1000AD, not the one nine years ago). One of the fascinating little nuggets of information that he’s so good at peppering his books with was about the Viking invasion and settlement of northern England. Apparently, despite our perception that the Vikings were a smelly, rampaging horde of barbarians, they bathed once a week, wore eyeliner and took a lot of care over their hair. This, of course, made them rather popular with the local ladies, and so Englishmen befriended them to get make-up and hair-care tips! Now, I bet you never thought that Vikings were in fact a bunch of poodle-rockers.
