Sunday, October 04, 2009

The World Spins Out Of Tune - Top 50 Albums of the 2000s

It’s not quite the end of the decade yet, but it’s near enough for Pitchfork and Uncut to release horrifically mediocre Top Albums of the Decade lists, so I thought I may as well get in on the act now as well. It’s unlikely that anything released in the next couple of months will drastically change the order of the list, but if it does and you’re reading this now, well gosh now I feel silly. The thing about the 2000s is that there has been no underlying trend, as far as I can see there are no hands-down classics like Pet Sounds in the 60s or Loveless in the 90s that you’d just have to have on the list. But on the upside there has been loads of fantastic music that will only ever be a niche interest. The state of music certainly isn’t as grim as a cursory scan of Pitchfork or Uncut will have you believe. When I started my list, I thought I would find no trend in my results either, but as the list went on, I found myself more and more describing the music as having the ability to transport you to some Other Place, the ability to create a self-contained musical world. This probably says more about my taste then any general trend in music itself, but as far as trends go, I’m happy with that one. I don’t think music should not engage at all with reality, I just like the ability to completely lose yourself in a good record.
So this list is simply the 50 albums that came out in the last 10 years that I’ve enjoyed the most. I have limited each artist to one album for the sake of musical diversity; suffice to say there are many artists on this list for whom I could have easily picked two or more albums from. The Fall, Erase Errata, Electrelane and all the Ghost Box artists spring to mind immediately. The order is absolutely final and was calculated using SCIENCE that you mere mortals would simply not understand, but trust me when I say that my methods are mathematically sound and totally wasn’t the result of me typing up the first 50 albums I could think of and randomly rearranging the order so it looked nice. But first: honourable and dishonourable mentions:

Not on the list because they’re crap: Up The Bracket, Is This It, Vampire Weekend, anything by Sigur Ros, Kid A.

Bubbling under because they’re good but in danger of becoming horrifically over-rated: Turn On The Bright Lights, Funeral (second best album of the decade? Piss off.), Fever To Tell, Dear Catastrophe Waitress (The Life Pursuit’s crap). Probably Yoshimi falls into this category as well.

Artists who have surprisingly been shit for 10 years now but still soldier on: the Manics, Radiohead. Congratulations Mr Cave, No More Shall We Part means you just miss out.

Embarrassingly not on the list because I’ve forgotten or haven’t got round to listening to it yet: fill this bit in yourself. The Transactional Dharma of Roj (Ghost Box 012) probably belongs on here somewhere, but I only got it through the post yesterday so I’ve only heard it the once.

Right. On to the main attraction:

50. King Crimson – The ConstruKction of Light (2000)

If modern day Crimso are a disappointment, it’s only in comparison to the giddy heights they scaled earlier in their career. Taken on their own considerable merits, their 00s albums are great. Whilst 2003’s The Power To Believe is the stronger album, ConstruKction arguably reaches higher peaks. Modern updates of ‘Larks Tongues’ and ‘Fracture’ may be unnecessary, but it’s still great to hear the band in full flight muscling its way through such strong material. The rest of the material saw King Crimson’s eccentric sense of humour to the fore, (mostly) without harming the power and majesty of the music. And the title track is an all-time Crimso great, with its spiralling elliptical guitar lines and one of Adrian Belew’s most engaging and cryptic lyrics. “And if Warhol is a genius…”

49. The Long Blondes – Someone To Drive You Home (2006)

Stolen moves, sure, but when they’re executed this well, who cares? The Long Blondes were fun, smart and sassy, brimming with infectious energy and armed with a real knack for a tune. The album highlights ‘Once And Never Again’, ‘Giddy Stratospheres’ and ‘Weekend Without Makeup’ transcend their Blondie-meets-Pulp origins to make great pop with heart and brains.

48. The Mars Volta – De-Loused In The Comatorium (2003)

The prog rock revival has been secretly gaining ground for some time, but even today to announce on your debut album that you’ve written an allegorical concept album about your dead friend’s afterlife or whatever the devil De-Loused is meant to be about is to set yourself up as a target for untold ridicule. The Mars Volta, then as now, were never ones to let ridicule stand in the way of their preposterous ambition. Against all the odds, the ex-hardcore punks came up trumps with a fantastically overblown yet stunningly ambitious piece of music that flew in the face of indie rock orthodoxy. The band have never looked back. Their other albums are fantastic, but the debut remains my favourite, if only for its sheer audacity.

47. Liars – They Threw Us All In A Trench And Stuck A Monument On The Top (2001)

You know, it’s funny that I can’t be bothered with Liars any more, because I loved this album when it came out. The whole dance-punk, post-punk revival thing wound up being a massive disappointment, but actually, I still reckon this album delivers. Helped in no small part by a great rhythm section (which they subsequently lost, and boy do the records suffer for it), They Threw Us All… may be a gauche recycling of past post-punk tropes, but it undeniably possesses a dark energy and enthusiasm. While they never matched the invention and intensity of the Gang of Four or ESG records they were imitating, the likes of ‘Grown Men Don’t Fall In A River Just Like That’ and ‘Mr. Your On Fire Mr.’ thunder along with convulsive purpose. And the occult horrors of ‘This Dust Makes That Mud’ ends on a 20 minute lock groove designed to test the listener’s patience. Stupid but cool.

46. LCD Soundsystem – Sound of Silver (2007)

I don’t really want to add too much to the noise already surrounding this album, but, you know, it’s pretty good. James Murphy gets to rip off everyone from La Dusseldorf to David Bowie and doesn’t wind up looking stupid doing so. He even manages to invest the record with real emotional punch – ‘Someone Great’ and ‘All My Friends’ wind up being more then fancy games of Spot The Hipster Reference Point via Murphy’s sincere and actually kinda profound look at ageing.

45. Welcome – Sirs (2006)

An oddity in this day and age, in that there’s pretty much no context for this. Arguably just a thirty-minute mess with no discernable hooks, patience reveals Welcome to be a bizarre half-breed descended from early Pere Ubu and Syd Barrett-era Floyd. Trebly scratchy guitars pan wildly from one speaker to the other, drums clatter, the whole thing collapses in on itself then reassembles inside out. And eventually, structures reveal themselves – charming, tuneful vocals rise out of the chaos, only to be swallowed again as all hell breaks loose. Then the song ends, and it’s only been two and a half minutes. This continues for the whole record. I have no idea who these guys are, but in its own way and entirely on its own terms, I think this album is something of a modern classic.

44. Deerhoof – Milk Man (2004)

Now this is definitely a modern classic. Deerhoof play an attention deficit mash of post-punk, psychedelia, prog and sheer noise, often all at the same time, topped off by a cute Japanese singer who sings disturbingly twisted and gauche lyrics like sugar wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Milk Man is the band at the peak of their powers, cramming as many hooks, ideas and just general bat shit craziness into each song as possible. It’s a concept album of some sort about the eponymous Milk Man, who kidnaps children and takes them to his magical kingdom. Or something. The band have too much fun to get bogged down in the details, which is how it should be. And with tunes as infectious as the title track, who’s complaining?

43. Blood Ceremony – Blood Ceremony (2008)

In this irony-clad age, thank the gods for Blood Ceremony. Copping all their moves from Black Sabbath and Jethro Tull circa 72 and writing songs about witchcraft and black magic entirely devoid of self-awareness or irony, Blood Ceremony are a surprisingly refreshing proposition. It doesn’t hurt that their guitarist sure knows how to Tony Iommi-it up, or that their female lead vocalist has an incredible voice. But it’s the strength of the material that lifts this above retro-pastiche and gives the band a voice of their own, despite their prominent influences.

42. Subtonix – Tarantism (2002)

And whilst we’re on the subject of black magic… Here come the Subtonix, like an undead X-Ray Spex, all set to feed on the flesh of the living and banish all the mediocre post-punk revivalists to the pit from whence they came. Considering how bland most of the post-punk revival bands turned out, it’s something of a mystery why Subtonix, armed with real attitude, nurse uniforms and buckets of fake blood, failed to capture the public’s imagination. They certainly had the tunes – all spiky guitars, gloomy bass, shrieking sax riffs and Siouxsie vocals. Sadly it wasn’t to be, but we still have this, the band’s only album, which still brims with darkness, mystery and, well, damnit, fun.

41. Animal Collective – Sung Tongs (2004)

Again, this record’s been praised enough. But it’s got some top tunes on it. Despite having their influences, Animal Collective didn’t really sound like anyone else, and they remain unique. Sung Tongs saw them staking out their territory, and it’s remarkable in this reductive day and age just how broad it is – folky guitars and campfire singalongs to tape-loops, electronics and daemonic chanting. This openness has served AC very well over the years, and they ended the decade with the fantastic Meriwether Post Pavilion being justifiably praised to the skies and even scraping the top 20. Nice one.

40. Einsturzende Neubauten – Perpetuum Mobile (2004)

Much as I hate this phrase, Perpetuum Mobile really was a return to form. For the first time in their career, Ende Neu and Silence Is Sexy had seen Neubauten occasionally struggling to reconcile compositional subtlety with their penchant for all-out metal on metal noise. However, with Perpetuum Mobile, they really nailed it. From the motorik of the title track which echoes their Krautrock forefathers to the haiku-like elegance of ‘Ich Gehe Jetz’, the album’s sonic range is stunning. The boys from Berlin use every material that comes their way to its fullest sonic potential, yet always ensure that the arrangement serves the song. Blixa is on top form as a vocalist as form, showing that he can handle delicate emotion as well as that scream. They even get all sentimental on the genuinely moving ‘Dead Friends (Around The Corner)’ and carry it off with aplomb and dignity.

39. Xiu Xiu – Fabulous Muscles (2004)

Another Pitchfork choice. Good record though. Fabulous Muscles remains Xiu Xiu’s peak, the perfect mix of crazy sonic inventiveness and delicately poised (well, for these guys anyway) songwriting. Despite the often harrowing subject matter, it remains a thoroughly enjoyable record. No more is the disparity between luscious, New Order-influenced melody and the song’s innate horror shown then on ‘I Love The Valley OH!’, a passionately sung overdose tale set to gorgeous pop.

38. Comets On Fire – Blue Cathedral (2004)

This one actually pisses me off, because if it was better, then it would be unbelievably awesome. I think it’s let down by crappy production, the way it’s recorded makes it kind of hard to listen to. Anyway, what a great album. Ben Chasny does 70s space rock. He’s a fantastic guitarist, and he freaks out with a vengeance all over this record. See, if it were better then I could say it was like a modern Ash Ra Tempel, with Chasny as a Manuel Gottsching de nos jours, but sadly the record just misses. Irritating. Anyway, yeah, top stuff otherwise.

37. Kate Bush – Aerial (2005)

Kate Bush’s return after 12 years. It’s funny, in her absence she’s really become a touchstone for a kind of female pop singer. I like Tori Amos, but once you get on to people like Bat For Lashes, they’re kind of taking the piss. Anyway, Kate storms back into the fold with this glorious song suite and shows ‘em all how it’s done. Songs about washing machines, numbers, sunsets… it was like she’d never been away. Despite having nothing to prove at this stage of the game, she went ahead and did it anyway. And then… silence.

36. Six Organs Of Admittance – Dark Noontide (2002)

More Ben Chasny. Six Organs Of Admittance are a bit better then Blue Cathedral at fulfilling their potential. This album is a fantastic mix of Western and Eastern folk, psychedelic rock and electronic drone, almost Fairport Convention covering Coil in Hokkaido. People tried to nail them to the free folk thing, but Six Organs don’t really fit anywhere, they just continue ploughing their own furrow and sod the rest of the world. Good on ‘em. Album highlight – the almost Amon Duul II-like ‘A Thousand Birds’, the perfect synthesis of psychedelic folk and raga rock.

35. Litmus – Planetfall (2007)

‘DESTROY THE MOTHERSHIP!’ Litmus are blatant Hawkwind plagiarists, but when it’s done with such panache it’s impossible to be angry. And not even Hawkwind have ripped off Hawkwind this well for years. This is a highly proficient slab of space rock in good old fashioned Mountain Grill vintage. However, Litmus are smart enough to avoid Hawkwind’s missteps without jettisoning their sense of adventure. If these guys ever learn to stand on their own two feet, they could be dangerous. For now, they can settle with just great fun.

34. Legendary Pink Dots – The Whispering Wall (2004)

The Legendary Pink Dots have gotten to the stage of their career where they can pretty much do what they want. They’re never going to crack the mainstream, and they don’t care, they’re pretty much happy with their small but loyal solid fan base. The Whispering Wall comes on like its contending with the big boys though. All the usual ingredients are there in exelcis – swirling pulsating keyboards, dinky electronics, psychedelic guitar and Edward Ka-Spel’s lisping vocals. But now it was coupled to some of their strongest and just plain approachable material in ages. A younger band would have been gunning for a breakthrough, but typically the Pink Dots were unconcerned about the wider world.

33. Wolf Eyes – Human Animal (2006)

Why not Burned Mind? Great as that album was, it was fairly standard Whitehouse/Merzbow burn-your-face-off noise, albeit done with aplomb. Human Animal is a more developed, subtler album. It’s as nasty and unpleasant as it’s predecessor, but because it actually factors in quieter moments and different timbers, it manages to be even more extreme and nerve-wracking, and even expand the vocabulary of a genre far too content to play to its strengths at the expense of development.

32. Current 93 – Black Ships Ate The Sky (2006)

In which Current 93 almost accidentally break into the mainstream. Black Ships… isn’t a prissy sell-out record by any stretch of the imagination – it’s pretty much business as usual. Violent apocalyptic visions, tapeloops, guitar and piano led folk music. But, thanks to all the free folk nonsense flying around, C93 were in the odd position off almost fitting with the current musical context, and high-profile collaborators from Antony to Marc Almond raised the record’s profile even further. At the end of the day, though, it wasn’t to be, and all we are left with is another great Current 93 album. There are worse fates.

31. Porcupine Tree – Deadwing (2005)

It’s pretty much personal preference which P-Tree album of the 00s is your favourite. Whilst none of them matched the band’s career highs of Signify and The Sky Moves Sideways, they were all consistently good. I’m going for Deadwing today because it has the gorgeous ‘Lazarus’ and ‘Mellotron Scratch’ on it. And it’s a pretty good album. So there.

30. Nisennenmondai – Destination Tokyo (2008)

Nisennenmondai are an all-girl Japanese no-wave trio who call their songs ‘Pop Group’ and ‘This Heat’. The only way they could get any better would be if, on their full-length debut, they went on an epic krautprog freak out as well. Oh wait, that’s just what they did. Perfect. If you don’t think that sounds like the best thing since sliced bread, there’s something wrong with you.

29. Kode9 And The Spaceape – Memories Of The Near Future (2006)

A dubstep classic. Kode9’s sonic dystopia – all loping beats, sub-bass explosions, the hollowed-out zombie corpse of rave – is matched by Spaceape’s Philip K Dick-on-a-downer paranoid alien rantings, all delivered in his sonorous Jamaican patois. Cannibalising everything in its wake from rave culture to the Seven Samurai to Prince, Kode9 takes no prisoners. The sound of post-millennial dread at its chilling finest.

28. The Organ – Grab That Gun (2004)

At the end of the day, were The Organ just wasted potential? Grab That Gun comes on like the strongest indie debut of the decade. Katie Sketch’s hand-picked crew materialised out of nowhere with this gem of a record. Heavily influenced by The Cure and The Smiths, The Organ appropriated those bands’ male whining and used it as a template to express their female angst. But beyond the intriguing concept were ridiculously strong songs with intelligent and perceptive lyrics. ‘Steve Smith’ deals with the spectre of Morrissey by taking him out and shooting him, and ‘Brother’ has Sketch wryly acknowledging that she could be wrong over the song’s brutal coda. This half hour of top quality pop should have been the start of a brilliant career, but wound up being the end as the band disintegrated a mere two years later.

27. Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds – No More Shall We Part (2001)

Old Saint Nick’s last great album is arguably his best work outside the Birthday Party. Having abandoned his old fire and brimstone style for reflective ballads, the real triumph of No More… is that it reveals what a strong songwriter Cave had become. There’s nothing really new here in sonics or lyrics – Cave explores his usual themes of love, passion, death, loss and the morality and consequences which tie all of them together – it’s more the strength of the material is at an absolute peak. ‘Hallelujah’, ‘As I Sat Sadly By Her Side’ and ‘Love Letter’ show Nick at his most melodic and lyrical, whilst he still manages to summon up some of the fire of old (thanks in no small part to Blixa) on ‘The Sorrowful Wife’. Cave would follow this up with the meritless Noctoruama before getting bored with writing songs altogether, instead hamming up his mad preacher shtick over less and less memorable material. Remember him this way.

26. The Go-Betweens – Oceans Apart (2005)

This album wound up becoming the Go-Betweens’ unintentional swansong, as it was followed by the sudden tragic death of Grant McLennan. Still, what a way to go. The Go-Betweens sign off at the peak of their game, with Robert Forster at his scabrous best on ‘Here Comes A City’, and McLennan sounding suitably elegiac on the gorgeous ‘No Reason To Cry’. Elsewhere, the usual fine melodies and literate wordplay were present in abundance. The band sound on top form, and very much like they’re enjoying themselves immensely. It’s nice that they finished on such a strong, uplifting album.

25. Antony And The Johnsons – I Am A Bird Now (2005)

I Am A Bird Now shows Antony’s songwriting at its personal best. Delicate, imaginative arrangements, unusual subject matter treated in a sensitive and intelligent way, and that voice – this album was incredibly fresh when it appeared amidst a tired and clichéd indie scene and despite all the media attention that followed, it still sounds remarkably singular. What remains is the haunting simplicity of the songs, and the passion that Antony pours into the performance.

24. XTC – Wasp Star (Apple Venus Volume 2) (2000)

XTC’s final offering sees the band in fine health. Apple Venus Volume 1 saw XTC take their jerky, oblique pop to new orchestral heights. Wasp Star retains the general sound, but feels somehow more relaxed and at ease with itself. These songs may have been rumoured to be offtakes from Volume 1, but when the material’s this good it seems churlish to complain. Lyrical, poppy and gorgeously melodic, yet unassuming and eccentric, Wasp Star makes a very fitting coda to XTC’s recording career. God bless.

23. Gang Gang Dance – Saint Dymphna (2008)

The peak of the Brooklyn scene. Gang Gang dance are such a weird mash-up of influences – electro, afrobeat, hip hop, psychedelia, post punk, R & B, noise… their music should be a complete unlistenable mess. Yet somehow, on Saint Dymphna it all comes together to create a thoroughly modern hybrid. Chanting mixes in with brutal electric precussion as MBV soundscapes swirl into themselves. More so then even their most accomplished peers, Gang Gang Dance have fused their disparate source material into their own identifiable sound. It’s catchy too.

22. Life Without Buildings – Any Other City (2001)

“If I lose / If I lose / If I lose….” The most remarkable thing about Life Without Buildings’ sole LP is Sue Tompkins’ stream of consciousness vocals. Her weird, chirpy voice stutters and trips over phrases. Lyrics seem to chase each other’s tails throughout entire songs, cutting and pasting back in on themselves. Mundane pieces of chatter become magical by being removed from their context. What on earth is she on about? That’s not to say that she carries the album by herself. The rest of the band provide a shimmering dreampop backing which swirls and swells, like a blessed-out Television. The band mysteriously broke up one year later, and nothing more was heard from them, but this album remains a thing of wondrous, mysterious beauty.

21. Eric Zann – Ouroborindra (2005)

Ghost Box 004. An eccentric release on an eccentric album, Eric Zann was a mute viol player whose eldritch music had the ability to cause rifts in the space-time continuum, allowing all sorts of cosmic horrors access to our dimension. Jim Jupp couldn’t have chosen a more appropriate pseudonym for this release. Whereas the other Ghost Box artists focus more on the uncanny then the menacing, most of the music on Ouroborindra is outright malevolent. With its references to Lovecraft, C S Lewis and Arthur Machen, the album is full of warped tape effects, evil sounding drones and analogue synthesizers, all manipulated to sound as menacing as possible. Don’t listen to this in the dark.

20. The Dirty Projectors – Bitte Orca (2009)

Against the odds, this album actually comes close to some kind of Gentle Giant meets Scritti Politti hybrid. With their concept albums about Don Henley and lounge-music reworkings of Black Flag albums, Dirty Projectors should be complete charlatans. I’m still not convinced that Dave Longstreth isn’t a charlatan; he certainly sounds, behaves and acts like one. Therefore the Dirty Projectors should just be smug hipster douchebaggery, but this actually is far from the case. I have no idea what this band’s game are, I mean what the hell are they trying to achieve? I suspect a massive put on, but then maybe Longstreth has some kind of idiot savant thing going on. Whatever his bizarre intentions maybe, when he writes a tune, stuff like ‘Useful Chamber’ and ‘Stillness Is The Move’ happen. Which ultimately makes him alright by me, I guess.

19. Coil – Musick To Play In The Dark Volumes 1 and 2 (2000)

Yeah this is kind of cheating. So bite me. Coil reinvented themselves at the turn of the millennium by opening themselves up to the female and lunar influences they had been shutting out. The results were some of their finest music. Laced with digital clicks, designed as the computer-age equivalent to the crackle of the fire, these dark and sensual songs give Coil an extra dimension that was missing from their earlier, more aggressive work. Haunted and haunting, Balance is at his shamanistic best throughout, whether flirting with ghost boys on ‘Where Are You?’ or dealing with the death of his parents by sheltering in memories of their mundane advice in ‘Broccoli’. ‘The Dreamer Is Still Asleep’ is a dark psychedelic epic, whilst the elegiac ‘Batwings’ ends with Balance singing made-up gibberish like it was Gregorian chants. The end effect is surprisingly moving.

18. Scritti Politti – White Bread, Black Beer (2006)

Who could have predicted that Green Gartside would return from years of exile in 2006 with his best album yet? Yet that’s what happened. Green Gartside finally got over his existential neurosis and post-structuralism to deliver the pop album he was born to make. From the Beatles-esque ‘Dr. Abernathy’ to Snow In The Sun’, the record is crammed full of great pop, all the more affecting for being emotionally honest for a change. The album was even followed by rare, celebratory live dates, most out of character for the borderline-reclusive Gartside.

17. Magma – Kohntarkosz Anteria (2004)

KA is one of Magma’s crowning achievements. It is one of their perfect albums, up there with Mekanik Destructiw Kommandoh, Kohntarkosz, Wurdah Itah and Theuz Haamtahk. The only reason it’s as low as number 17 is because, whilst it was recorded in 2004, it was written in the mid 70s, so I kind of feel placing it any higher is cheating. KA is part of the Kohntarkosz trilogy, and, as with the Wurdah Itah trilogy, lack of funding and the rigours of touring meant that when the time to record came round, Christian Vander skipped straight to the climactic Kohntartkosz. KA remained unrecorded for years, like Theusz Haamtahk and Ementeht Ra, the latter which remains so. Fortunately for us, Vander got Magma back together to finally do justice to the work, and it stands up there with the rest of the band’s masterpieces. Harsh, rhythmic and malevolent like its sister piece, KA finds the new line up coping wonderfully well with the material, and comparing quite favourably indeed thank you to the iconic Topp and Blasquiz line up which recorded the latter.

16. Acid Mothers Temple And The Melting Paradise UFO – Absolutely Freak Out! (Zap Your Mind) (2001)

Let’s face it, all AMT albums are interchangeable up to a point, so you may as well pick whatever one you like. I’m going for Absolutely Freak Out. It’s a double album, so there’s plenty of krautrock-damaged space rock to go round, it’s got a good solid line up with Cotton Casino on vocals, and it has a nice cover. Epic stuff.

15. Marillion – Marbles (2004)

Hogarth-era Marillion work in a strange way. Masterpieces are interspersed with increasingly experimental gap albums, which the band use as stepping stones to achieve the next masterpiece. Marbles is the result of the band expanding their palette on This Strange Engine, Radiation and Marillion.com, which saw them add Cuban party music, Radiohead-derived indie rock and electronica and trip hop to their list of influences. Those albums were all fantastic and it was a lot of fun to hear the band try out all these new styles, but it was only with Marbles that you got to see where they were going with all this. Marbles is a solid gold classic; identifiably prog in its classic incarnation, but at the same time boldly and brashly modern. ‘The Invisible Man’ is Marillion’s ‘Supper’s Ready’, a moving and lyrical epic that shifts through a number of styles, but augmented by electronics, incredibly inventive keyboard work from Mark Kelly and some very innovative guitar work from Steve Rothery. Elsewhere Marillion out-REM REM on ‘Genie’ and give us two more prog epics in Ocean Cloud and Neverland. Mud in the eye for anyone who still thinks they’re one-dimensional Genesis rip-offs.

14. The Advisory Circle – Other Channels (2008)

Ghost Box 010. Other Channels is The Advisory Circle’s first full-length release. Building on from the excellent Mind How You Go EP, Other Channels is the gateway to an alternate universe, the world as seen by bored sedated housewives when the Mogadon starts to go wrong. Cold War paranoia crackles through public service announcements, cracks start to appear in the ice, the visiting salesman is warped into a being of cosmic horror. The record harks back to a time when electronic music sounded genuinely alien and uncanny, and acts as a prism, allowing us to see the ghosts haunting the school piano and trapped in the wires. Yet despite the overwhelming sense of the Other, this may well be Ghost Box’s most inviting, accessible release.

13. Ghost – Hypnotic Underworld (2004)

Japan’s Ghost realized that there was still plenty of mileage to be gotten out of psychedelia and prog, and that one need not be retro in the slightest to do so. Thus, Ghost channel the spirits of Syd Barrett, Dave Allen and Robert Fripp, as well as home-grown oddities like Brast Burn and Flower Travellin’ Band to make their entirely individual take on prog rock. Dreamy and lush, yet with a muscular menacing undercurrent, Hypnotic Underworld keeps up the pace brilliantly, through its epic, multi-part title suite through the Far East Family Band whimsy of The Piper and a very authoritative cover of Syd’s ‘Dominoes’. Anywhere else this kind of behaviour would get you laughed at, but because their Japanese they wind up being kind of cool. Righteous.

12. Rings – Black Habit (2008)

The most under-rated album of the decade? Rings released this singular masterpiece to general indifference last year, which is a great shame. It is, quite simply, the best Paw Tracks release by some distance. The problem with the post-punk revival is that instead of moving on from such unsurpassed sonic innovations as Metal Box, Hex Enduction Hour or Deceit, the groups were content to rehash other people’s ideas, so that Andy Gill’s guitar sound is merely another indie trope. Black Habit is the direct descendant of Cut and Odyshape, our girls here ready and willing to explore the sonic landscapes opened up by those albums. Haunting and spectral, the songs’ exploratory structure never loses site of their emotional core, whilst the sonic brew is broad enough to encompass folk and dub influences.

11. The Focus Group – We Are All Pan’s People (2007)

Ghost Box 008. This was the first Ghost Box release I heard, and in true GB style, it opened up an entirely new musical dimension to me, one I was unaware even existed. Drawing from the experiments of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop, library music and dinky 70s electronica, The Focus Group epitomize the Ghost Box house style, using these elements to create a spectral alternate present, in which the futurist dreams of the 60s and 70s came to pass. But whereas Belbury Poly and The Advisory Circle use uncanny samples and arcane reference points to create a sense of temporal displacement in their essentially melodic compositions, The Focus Group achieve this via a jarring cut-and-paste aesthetic. We Are All Pan’s People flickers between hokey folk songs, found sound, electronics and disembodied voices like a radio switching randomly between stations. Upon hearing it I was immediately reminded of The Faust Tapes in the way the music creates its own internal logic through a mixing together of seemingly unrelated musical snippets. Pan’s People holds its own against such a monolithic and iconic work, and like Copey decribes in Krautrocksampler one can imagine kids in the playground doing skits of it, surely a sign of a record’s power to get under your skin.

10. Joanna Newsom – Ys (2006)

This record is quite simply astonishing. Precious little else released this decade can touch it for invention and musical ambition. Whilst the idea of a precocious female singer songwriter armed with a harp can arouse suspicion before you even see the medieval style painting on the cover art, Ys is a thoroughly well-realized song cycle. The record is, to all intents and purposes, a modern version of Roy Harper’s Stormcock. Like Harper, Newsom explores the mystical and the sensual with a rare warmth and good humor, whilst the music is dazzlingly complex. The 5 songs are packed full of melodic ideas, gorgeous chord changes and stunning melodies, adeptly supported by Van Dyke Park’s orchestral arrangement, which adds tonal colour but never gets in the way. In a world where music has increasingly become the background noise to aggressive commercials, and everyone is trying to undercut everyone else to appeal to the lowest common denominator, Ys’ delicate beauty stood out even more.

9. Burial – Burial (2006)

Burial’s self-titled debut conjures up a London of the not too distant future, submerged in water and populated by fleeting ghosts. The music is a spectral echo of rave, all empty spaces and pirate radio crackle. Burial is otherworldly and mysterious, something not even the revelation of his identity can shatter. Burial’s debut just edges it over the excellent follow up Untrue for one crucial reason – the voices are more disembodied and submerged, achieving a ghostly subliminal presence that gives the tracks more power. There is a real understanding of space and silence, creating an almost cavernous impression, like Joy Division playing in a mausoleum. The human presence in the music is numbed, lost, confused. As a result the music achieves a profound but never cloying sense of pathos. The album reflects perfectly post-millennial tension, the vague gnawing sense of dread triggered by too much information and too little sleep as the world spirals out of control around us.

8. Peter Gabriel – Up (2002)

Peter Gabriel has released music in 5 different decades, and is still going from strength to strength. Up shows just what a mature, confident and exciting musician the man is. Gabriel’s natural thirst for new sounds and sense of adventure has served him well. Here he creates a rich tapestry from cutting edge digital noise and traditional African and Asian instruments. Up sounds sonically gorgeous and ridiculously exciting. But at the heart of it all, Gabriel is still just an incredible songwriter, and the songs here sit comfortably with his best material, which considering the man’s track record is no mean feet. ‘More Than This’ and ‘I Grieve’ show him at his heartbreaking best, whilst ‘Signal To Noise’ uses a guest appearance by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan to achieve its apocalyptic climax. ‘No Way Out’ and ‘The Drop’ are haunting and frightening in equal measure, whilst ‘Darkness’ switches from pools of quiet beauty to chasms of roaring terror in the flick of a knife. Throughout it all, Gabriel’s voice is in fine form. Always sounding curiously aged, he has grown into it know, and it has lost none of its warmth or its passion in the process.

7. The Knife – Silent Shout (2006)

“I caught a glimpse, now it haunts me…” The Knife’s second LP saw them move on from their merely excellent debut to produce one of the All Time Classics. Whilst not exactly a concept album, the songs feel linked together to form a cohesive whole in a way that the tracks on Deep Cuts just don’t. Dark and brooding, the songs have a common thread of unhealthy relationships and shifting identity. This is conveyed brilliantly by Karin Dreijer Andersson’s already impressive vocals, which are subjected to all manner of sonic manipulations and tricksiness to create a host of disturbed and disturbing characters, from the sirens on ‘The Captain’ to the violent misogynistic gangster in ‘One Hit’. The music backs her every inch of the way, from the haunted pulsings of the title track to the apocalyptic sonic bombing of ‘We Share Our Mother’s Health’. The Knife really show up all these crappy synth pop bands that have sprung up recently, because they are able to use electronics to their full potential, creating a detailed and absorbing sonic world, whereas most of these muppets with synthesizers and female lead singers with dubious haircuts have difficulty convincingly ripping off Duran Duran.

6. The Fall – Country On The Click (2003)

Seeing as it’s no longer the real new Fall LP by any stretch of the imagination, I’ve decided that this album can now revert to its original intended title. The Fall seem pretty much indestructible at this point, having come back from the brink and gone from strength to strength over a series of incredibly strong LPs. This remains the high point of 2000s Fall. After the fiasco of Are You The Missing Winner, easily their worst record since the dreaded Cerebral Caustic, only the faithful could have been getting fired up about this release, but they were proved right and then some. As soon as ‘Green Eyed Loco Man’ bursts through the speakers, it’s clear they mean business in a way that hasn’t been apparent since the heady days of The Infotainment Scan. The football hooligan anthem ‘Theme From Sparta FC’ is one of those classic Fall shoulda-been-a-hit-single songs, brutal, nasty and catchy as all hell. Townie anthem ‘Contraflow’ sees MES laying into the countryside over a crushing riff, whilst ‘Johnny, Janet and James’ and ‘Mountain Energei’ see the band successfully engaging with their reflective side for the first time in years. ‘Mike’s Love Xexagon’ sees Mark E Smith take the side of the world’s most hated Beach Boy over whooshing electronics and spectral chanting, proof that however prominent the band’s pop side becomes, they never let their experimental side rest either. The Fall would go on to produce three more great albums this decade, but Country On The Click remains not only the high point of this period of their existence, but one of the All Time Fall Classics, up there with Hex, Infotainment and Saving Grace.

5. Erase Errata – Other Animals (2001)

The post-punk revival promised so much, a return to innovation and experimentation in guitar pop after years of retro posturing. And initially it looked like it might be able to deliver, especially if you listen to Erase Errata’s stunning debut album. No mere rehash of other people’s ideas, Erase Errata’s stroppy, choppy and angular music is influenced by Gang of Four, The Fall and The Minutemen, but also a healthy dose of Captain Beefheart. Rather then just use these as clever reference points, the band incorporate them into their own individual sound, using improvisation as a basis for coming up with ideas. The songs are short and wonderfully economic, the longest song clocking in at just under three minutes, because the band use the old Wire technique of the song stops when the text runs out. The lyrical subject matter proves the band to be eloquent and politically aware, and able to talk about such issues without resorting to soap-box sloganeering. Bands in Erase Errata’s wake would dilute the original post-punk sound in order to achieve mass commercial success, but our heroes continue to plug away, as vital and as singular as ever.

4. Astra – The Weirding (2009)

In which prog rock returns to conquer the world. Astra’s debut arrived fully formed, as if our heroes had just fallen through a time rift from 1973. A double vinyl concept album (about some vague apocalyptic rumblings, I think) with gorgeous cover art, which is how you do these things if you’re doing it properly, the title track alone manages to sonically reference ‘Cirkus’ and ‘Echoes’ and still winds up sounding like its own beast. The album is suffused with gorgeous mid-period Floyd vocal harmonies, cosmic guitar and thunderous mellotron not heard since the heady days of Lizard. The group’s instrumental prowess is really second to none, and on the side-long cosmic instrumental ‘Ouroboros’ they all get a chance to spread their wings to dazzling effect. The album’s true strength is the way that the group manage to transcend their influences by the sheer strength of their cosmic vision. Thus, while you can hear echoes of prog rock heroes both famous and obscure (is that some Far East Family Band I hear in there?), Astra achieve their own individual sound. The album closes, in proper prog rock fashion, with the gloriously epic ‘Beyond To Slight The Maze’, which just keeps rising in grandeur and intensity. One of my albums of the year for 2009, and a definite highlight of the decade.

3. Electrelane – The Power Out (2004)

The way Verity Susman sings ‘Ave Maria’ at the end of ‘Gone Under The Sea’, somehow both spiritual and wistful, is one of the most moving moments in music of the last 10 years. Electrelane were true greats, an inspired mix of Stereolab, Raincoats and Neu!, always delivered with passion and intensity and a knowledge that louder and faster doesn’t necessarily mean better. Despite having a well-defined sound, The Power Out shows just how versatile that sound was, and how far removed they were from the mere Stereolab copyists some of the press had them pegged as. The choir on ‘The Valleys’ is one of the most inventive uses of choir in pop music, utterly unexpected the first time you hear it and singularly powerful. ‘Oh Sombra!’ sees the band tear it up in style, and elsewhere the band never drop the ball, moving deftly from lyrical instrumentals to songs with lyrics taken from Nietzsche and Siegfried Sassoon. Moves that would be pretentious in lesser bands’ hands come off here with surprising ease, as the band engage with the emotional core of their highly sourced texts whilst avoiding any pomposity or smugness. It helps that any intellectual pretension in the lyrics is offset by the glorious heady rush of the music, full of fun, energy and vitality. The perfect mix of sonic experimentation and oblique pop songwriting, why Electrelane remain to this day hideously under-rated is something of a mystery.

2. Belbury Poly – The Willows (2004)

Ghost Box 003. In many ways the label’s defining release, Belbury Poly took their name from the evil institution striving to bring about apocalypse in C S Lewis’ That Hideous Strength and named their debut album after Algernon Blackwood’s greatest horror story, immediately setting out the Ghost Box aesthetic. Sonically the album covers all their musical bases as well, from library music to BBC Radiophonic Workshop via stilted 70s electronica. But more then that, the album, both in the music and with its distinctive house style art work, arcane quotes on the back and blurred photographs, solidified the Ghost Box world – strange goings on in the fictional town of Belbury, locked in an alternate reality populated by the specters of 60s futurism and the worst nightmares of Machen and Lovecraft. The album acts as a distorting portal, briefly superimposing their world onto ours, in much the same way as the eldritch forces in Blackwood’s story encroach into our reality. The title track summons those very forces by name, all sinister buzzing and analogue synthesizers, whilst ‘A Warning’ sends out distress signals across the vastness of space. The sense of menace never actually manifests, instead it is hinted at through the music’s hokey Otherness, summoning buried memories of 60s British science fiction and public information films fractured and incorrect, to create a sense that something is naggingly, intangibly wrong.

1. Diagonal – Diagonal (2008)

I saw Diagonal play live a couple of years ago supporting Acid Mothers Temple. I had never heard of them before and wasn’t really expecting all that much, but they came on and just completely progged out. Most neo-prog is simply over-produced AOR masquerading as a poor man’s Genesis, but this was something completely different. These guys clearly knew their Soft Machine and their King Crimson. Brutally complex, the musicianship was quite astounding, but what really struck me was how much fun these guys were having. Here was a bunch of musicians who really loved what they did, and that sheer joi de vivre crossed over to the audience as well. I remember thinking how great it was in this day and age where most bands just want to cynically chase the dollar that there were people making music like this. I then promptly forgot about them until my brother said to me one day, ‘You must hear this new prog band I’ve just discovered, they’re really something else.’ And the album he had found was Diagonal’s self-titled debut. Sure enough, the songs came bursting through the speakers with the same unbridled joy and invention. It’s just so refreshing to know that there are people who realize that Soft Machine and Crimso’s work is not finished, that there are still new and exciting things to do with it. Thus ‘Semi Permeable Menbrain’ comes on like a direct descendant of ‘Larks Tongues In Apic Part 1’, except with added Canterbury Sound keyboards and whooshy electronics. But this is no mere pastiche of prog rock past. Diagonal sound entirely individual. Nowhere is this more apparent then on album highlight and indeed one of the All Time Great Songs, the all-conquering epic ‘Deathwatch’. The song builds up from quiet vocal harmonies to a stunning instrumental climax with each melodic line interweaving and rising through a number of twists and turns to its glorious conclusion. Diagonal are a new band with immense promise, and we can only wonder at where their flights of imagination will take us next.





Tuesday, March 03, 2009

Déjà VROOOM, or How I Got Back My Power To Believe in 2000s-era Krim

The ConstruKction of Light (2000), Heavy ConstruKction (2000) and The Power To Believe (2003)

Our favourite artists are more likely to cause feelings of intense betrayal when they release bad albums. However, because they’re favourites, we are more likely to keep working at some artists’ poorer LPs in the defiant belief that they could not possibly be as bad as all that simply because of who the artists are. There really is no logic to this. However many times I listen to Cerebral Caustic, it’s not going to stop sucking. Yet recently, after repeat listenings, two albums by one of my favourite bands which I had previously thought to be among the greatest disappointments in music history have proved to be not quite as merit-less as I thought.
Between 1969 and 1995, King Crimson released a wealth of great music. Guitarist Robert Fripp led the band through a series of line-ups, with each album building on the innovations of the one before. In the early 70s, the band mutated into the highly improvisational Wetton-Cross-Bruford (bass, violin and drums respectively) line-up which, over 3 LPs and various stunning live performances, produced music of unparalleled intensity, twisted cerebral malevolence and lyrical beauty. After a hiatus, the group returned in the 80s without Wetton and Cross but with Adrian Belew (guitars, vocals) and Tony Levin (bass), two experienced American musicians who helped forge a new, post-New Wave version of King Crimson. Their 3 80s albums represent one of the few sensible attempts of prog to respond to the shifting musical landscape post-1977. Their sound became a warped mix of gamelan, afrobeat, prog and proto-postrock, and King Crimson put many New Wave and post-punk groups to shame, let alone their one-time peers such as Genesis and Yes. Then, after another sabbatical, the group returned in the mid nineties, still with Fripp, Belew, Levin and Bruford but with the addition of Pat Mastelotto (drums) and Trey Gunn (bass). THRAK was released at the height of Britpop, and proved that, in a sea of retro mediocrity, Crimso were still a force to be reckoned with, as sharp, innovative and brutal as ever. Then followed a period of instability, with the band fracturing into various side-projects to search for new directions. In 2000, Crimson reformed, reduced to the quartet of Fripp, Belew, Mastelotto and Gunn, and released The ConstruKction of Light, which was followed in 2003 by The Power To Believe. Both records felt like a massive letdown. Floundering without the support of Bruford and Levin, the band appeared reduced to churning out increasingly uninspired retreads of former glories, heavy with self-reference and bluster but low on melody and innovation. The latter LP earned the less-then-affectionate nickname The ConstruKction of Shite in my household, whilst I heard The Power To Believe once and refused to part with my hard-earned cash for it. King Crimson and the once-invincible Robert Fripp appeared to have lost their way. Cue horrendous disillusion.
Except, about once every year, I would dig out The ConstruKction of Light and listen to it again in the hope that I had missed something the last time round and that, on this hearing, everything would shift into place and the record would reveal itself to be, if not a masterpiece, then at least not a complete embarrassment. This is ridiculous behaviour and a complete waste of time that could be spent listening to a record which doesn’t suck, and I wouldn’t recommend this practice to anybody. Except… except….
Except, finally, after nine years, it finally happened. The ConstruKction of Light remains King Crimson’s worst studio album, but the good news is, actually, it’s not a terrible LP. It’s not even a very bad LP, and in fact has some sublime moments on it. Throughout the album, Trey Gunn, whilst being a perfectly respectable musician, has a hard time moving out of Tony Levin’s shadow, and Pat Mastelotto’s drumming has you longing for Bruford’s return. His drumming lacks the dynamics, subtlety and rhythmic inventiveness that characterises Bruford’s playing, and, whilst the man is certainly a hard act to follow, Pat doesn’t help himself with his over-reliance on bizarre electronic drums and playing in a particularly heavy and stolid style. Having said that, the rhythm section is not entirely to blame for the album’s patchy hit rate. THRAK hinted at chinks in King Crimson’s armour with its occasional tendency to self-referencing: ‘VROOOM’ intentionally recalls ‘Red’ from 1974 in its structure and melody, and there were several ‘knowing’ nods to earlier Crimson LPs in Belew’s lyrics. This process is taken even further here, with large sections of the album being taken up with reworkings of classic Crimso material. ‘FraKctured’ and ‘Larks’ Tongues in Aspic, part IV’ are both unnecessary reworkings of pieces by the classic 70s Crimson, and simply serve to highlight the deficiencies of the new line-up when compared to the legendary Fripp-Wetton-Cross-Bruford line-up. Talking about giving your critics a stick to hit you with. Having said that, ‘FraKctured’, whilst never reaching the dizzying heights of the original, is nice enough, and does contain moments of sublime beauty and bone-crunching menace which make it worth a listen. ‘Larks’ Tongues’, however, fares less well. Split into three further parts for reasons best known to the band, this track is a mess of heavy dissonance which at times suggests that it might break into something less confused but sadly never does. Quite why they felt the need to do ‘Part IV’ is something of a mystery, as the 80s line-up already attempted to revisit ‘Larks Tongues In Aspic’ with the similarly unnecessary and unsuccessful ‘Part III’. However, Adrian Belew’s ‘Coda: I Have A Dream’, which is messily tacked onto the end, is prettily melodic and features some nice playing by both guitarists.
Perhaps as disturbing as Crimson’s reliance on their past is their sudden fondness for novelty songs. The album opens with the truly bizarre ‘ProzaKc Blues’, which is basically King Crimson’s idea of a piss-take of a blues song, replete with Belew pitch-shifted to sound like a gruff blues singer. Featuring joke lyrics, the song is funny but irritating on first listen and just plain irritating on subsequent hearings. ‘The World’s My Oyster Soup Kitchen Floor Wax Museum’ is basically Belew playing a weird word-association game over a knotty, dissonant backing, and sounds like it was more fun to write then it is to listen to, and is chock-full of ‘cute’ references to previous Crimson songs.
However, once King Crimson stop pissing about and actually get down to business, they prove that they do indeed still have the old magic flowing in them. The title track is a thing of wonder, and sounds like nothing in the Crimso catalogue before it. Fripp and Belew’s guitars intertwine like chiming bells, winding through a spiralling stop-start structure that slowly builds into a wonderfully lyrical and melodic song, with Belew’s chiming vocals and some fantastically bizarre lyrics (‘And if Warhol is a genius, then what am I? / A speck of lint on the penis of an alien’). ‘Into the Frying Pan’ sounds like a Beatles song being sung backwards, with some excellent soloing from Fripp. And the bonus track ‘Heaven and Earth’, which is numerous studio jams edited and pasted together, sees the band playing with a subtlety, intensity and lyrical quality missing throughout much of the album proper. All in all, although ConstruKction is a muddled and messy album, it is not without its charm and moments of true transcendence. A listen to Heavy ConstruKction, the triple live album recorded during the tour for ConstruKction, reveals more of this line-up’s strengths and weaknesses. Whilst the band muddle through bizarre cover versions and various old classics which suffer the loss of Bruford and Levin (Mastelotto seems incapable of handling the driving tom-tom beat of ‘Dinosaur’ by himself), much of the new material shines, especially smoother and less cluttered readings of ‘The ContruKction of Light’ and ‘Into the Frying Pan’. The third disc, however, is a real joy. Consisting entirely of improvisations recorded at various stages of the tour, it reveals that this Krim is capable of creating music of visceral intensity and alien beauty with its own individual voice.
Having finally come to terms with ConstruKction, I decided to track down a copy of The Power To Believe and see how it held up in the light of my recent revelation. Although The Power To Believe was generally better received then its predecessor. It didn’t do a thing for me at the time. Listening back to it now, this is squarely the fault of ‘Facts of Life’ and the abysmal ‘Happy With What You Have To Be Happy With’, Crimso’s worst ever track and inexplicably the lead single. Whilst ‘Facts of Life’ is simply poor prog-metal, albeit with some admittedly nice Fripp soloing at various points, ‘Happy…’, this LP’s joke song, this time with Nu Metal as its ‘satirical’ target, is just appalling. To save the band any further embarrassment, I shall say no more about it if they promise never to play the damn thing live ever again. Once you get rid of these tracks, it becomes clear that The Power To Believe is actually a fine album, with the band learning some lessons from ConstruKction’s relative failure. Mastelotto’s drumming is greatly improved, and his drumming is incorporated with electronic drums in a much less grating way. He even plays some almost Bruford-esque fills on ‘EleKtriK’. ‘Level Five’ continues the murky dissonant riffing that marred ‘Larks’ Tongues part IV’, but with more purpose, momentum and melody then before. ‘EleKtriK’ features chiming guitars reminiscent of ‘The ConstruKction of Light’, but in a much smoother and more linear context, building into a ferocious instrumental. ‘Eyes Wide Open’ is a glorious Belew ballad in the tradition of ‘One Time’ or ‘Matte Kudasai’, featuring some lovely guitar playing from both Belew and Fripp, and ‘Dangerous Curves’ is a motorik slow-burner in the style of ‘Talking Drum’, building to a shuddering climax and infused with real menace. The title track, split into four parts, is built around a recurring haiku sung by a voxcodered Belew, and reappears in various contexts, from delicate ambient Frippertronics to chiming gamelan percussion. Overall, The Power To Believe is a much more confident and less troubled recording then The ConstruKction of Light, although, like the previous album, it does suggest that Crimson are now uncomfortably dependent on their past.
I was glad to find that The ConstruKction of Light and The Power To Believe are much better albums then I thought they were, and it’s nice having new King Crimson material to listen to. Although neither album quite sees the band able to shake off the heavy weight of their impressive past and move on as they used to be able to, both are thoroughly respectable efforts, and hint that there may still be life left in the beast. The more out-there material on ContruKction of Light, Heavy ConstruKction and The Power To Believe suggests that, if they really want it, and providing they don’t get complacent, King Crimson still have the potential to strike out and progress to pastures new. And that’s certainly something worth believing in.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

One Of Those Things: 2008 In Review

So here we are at the end of another year. By most accounts, 2008 has been a lean year for music, with the disparity between the usual critical end-of-year lists showing a lack of consensus on direction. I’m almost tempted to mark the musical year by the losses – great individuals such as Klaus Dinger (Neu!), Rick Wright (Floyd) and Ron Ashton (Stooges), to great bands – my favourite modern band, Electrelane, are on ‘indefinite hiatus’, and The Long Blondes are no more. Nostalgia was as prominent as ever, with more and more bands responding to the call to reform and do just a few more gigs for the cash. Not that this didn’t provide one of the musical highlights of the year, with the opportunity to see My Bloody Valentine live in all their glory. Gig-wise, other highlights were Marillion, Rings, and, as ever, The Fall. Things have been pretty quiet on the blogging front, partly due to lack of time and partly because when I did have the time, I just didn’t feel inspired to preach to the void. However, time and energy permitting, I do have some fun posts planned ahead, from a review of Spirit’s excellent Spirit of ’76 double LP to the long-promised and highly controversial Why Marillion Are Loads Better Then Radiohead post. 2008 was also the year I lost faith in Nick Cave. I still love his early records, but after going cold on the bizarrely over-rated Abattoir Blues/Lyre Of Orpheus double and not warming to Grinderman at all, I found myself simply not caring about his new record, something that only a year ago would have seemed unthinkable. Hopefully I’ll recover from my Cave-related apathy and Old Saint Nick will recover from his recent tendency to do his hammed-up mad preacher act over every track and get back to singing again. Other irritants include Vampire Weekend and Hot Chip. Aside from Fleet Foxes and Bon Iver, which I have still not heard, Vampire Weekend really was the indie hit of the year, the album praised to the high heavens in Pitchfork and charting high in most end of year polls. I suppose they are this year’s Strokes/Franz Ferdinand/whatever, which in itself is mildly irritating, but that’s not really what gets my goat. So much noise has been made about Vampire Weekend’s Ivy League education and their Afrobeat influences that you could be forgiven for expecting the record to a) have intelligent and literate lyrics and b) actually have Afrobeat influences. I’d go for that; that sounds like quite an enjoyable record to me. The problem being that all the premature hype and backlash cycle (insanely completed before the band had even released their record!) served to obscure that the album is, in most respects, your typical late 2000s meat and veg indie record. The lyrics cheerfully reference Oxford commas and the like whilst still being as shallow, banal and crushingly unimaginative as the next band’s. And Afrobeat influences? Come on, these guys listened to Graceland once and quite liked it, that’s as far as it goes. If you’re going to bang on about Afrobeat influences it’s not unreasonable to expect at least a little rhythmic sophistication, an attempt to recreate or absorb the blistering, primal fusion of funk, jazz and African music found in Fela Kuti’s work. Vampire Weekend are as rhythmicly staid as the next bland, sexless stadium indie drivel. Hot Chip have been vaguely irritating me for a while by crassly re-imagining LCD Soundsystem’s ‘All Channels Open’ plundering of past electronic and organic dance music as a poor, stodgy Pet Shop Boys rip off with smug lyrics by stupid people who are under the delusion that they’re smarter then their fans. This is all ignorable enough if you put your mind to it, but it’s their recent work collaborating with Peter Gabriel (covering Vampire Weekend, no less!) and Robert Wyatt that is really irritating. I think it reflects quite nicely on Wyatt and Gabriel, who are clearly too nice and polite to tell Hot Chip to piss off, but really I wish they would find somebody musically more interesting and, well, not crap, to collaborate. How about Robert Wyatt doing guest keyboard work on the next Belbury Poly album?
2008 hasn’t been a complete write off for new music by any means. There has been some great music released. The new Fall LP is reliably excellent, as is the new Marillion album. Ghost Box have been releasing consistently excellent and fascinating stuff for a number of years now, and their 2008 release, Other Channels by The Advisory Circle, is possibly the best thing to come out on that label. The Rings album is possibly the best record to be released on Paw Tracks (and that includes all the Animal Collective LPs), and Diagonal’s debut LP, coming across like a halfway house between early Softs and 70s Crim, is an excellent resurrection of all the elements of prog that are so sorely missed in modern music without falling into the common pitfall of neo-prog. The problem is that the chances of these records reaching the audience they deserve seem farther away then ever. Although in some ways the internet might level the playing field in music by opening all the channels, most of the channels are still clogged up with lowest common denominator guff. And I think in this day and age, there is always someone willing to go lower, crasser, more obvious, and more commercial, less challenging then you, which essentially leaves interesting music high and dry as far as the market is concerned. So whilst I am sure that there will be plenty of great music released in 2009, I also am sure that I will have to look further then the pages of NME or Pitchfork to find it, and that its chances of breaking out and having an impact on mainstream music to make it less dull and homogenized and more exciting and innovative is slim. And, as ever, I feel the tug of the past more and more strongly as the reissues pile up and more and more lost treasures from the past are excavated. Ultimately though, I hope that I’m proved wrong.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Cultural Revolution vs. Intellectual Bankruptcy: Kill Your Idols (2004)

“[It] tells me absolutely nothing, shows me nothing new, is not visionary, and is by its very nature and attitude redundant.” Lydia Lunch on the New York music scene, 2004

This year has seen the publication of three different books on No Wave. Using three different approaches, the books are well-informed and passionate about their subject, but the critical consensus is that none of them quite manages to get to grips with the violent inspiration behind the music or truly engage with the scene’s nihilistic world view. This suggests that there is still a healthy interest in No Wave music, but that it remains frequently misunderstood and misrepresented. Scott Crary’s 2004 documentary Kill Your Idols was made before all these books, and it also attempts to explain the music of No Wave whilst looking at its influence on musicians of the mid-noughties.
No Wave, for anyone lucky enough to avoid my drunken rantings, was a scene based in New York in the late 70s and early 80s. Driven by the nihilistic anger that inspired punk but contemptuous of a scene which they saw as musically conservative recycling of Chuck Berry riffs, a bunch of disparate artists and down-and-outs dispensed with such niceties as musical training, chords and conventional song structures to produce untamed and raw music which they felt did justice to their feelings of anger and alienation. Though chaotic and unmelodic, this music was highly inventive, original and bristling with invention and passion, often because the practitioners strove to make music that was unprecedented and also had to overcome the barrier of having literally no musical training whatsoever. Whilst The Clash and The Sex Pistols boasted about being unable to play despite clearly having respectable enough musical chops, the No Wave bands had often genuinely never picked up their instruments before deciding to make music. As a result, the music made by bands such as DNA, Mars, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks and James Chance and the Contortions among others sounds unlike any music produced by anyone before or since. Most of the bands lasted for only a short amount of time, preferring not so much to burn out as to explode in a violent blast of inspiration and energy rather then staying around to turn into everything that they opposed. However No Wave’s use of untutored guitar noise gave birth to bands such as Sonic Youth and Swans who redefined the way the guitar was used in rock music.
The first 30 minutes of Kill Your Idols is stunning, and is worth seeing for any No Wave fan for the archive footage of live performances. Martin Rev (Suicide), Lydia Lunch, Jim Sclavunos (both Teenage Jesus and the Jerks), Arto Lindsay (DNA) and Glenn Branca all talk about their lives and their music, with Lydia on her usual good form. However, then the film cuts to 2002 to compare No Wave to the (then) current New York music scene. In a series of acutely embarrassing and occasionally sickening interviews, the class of 2002 are shown up for the shallow poseurs they are. Particularly cringe-worthy is Karen O from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, who comes across as an utterly vacuous valley girl (replete with “Like, y’kneaow”s and all – for the edited highlights, plus some of LL’s putdowns thrown in for good measure, see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhAK2flDdXA ), whilst the execrable A.R.E. Weapons are so shallow, stupid, sexist and unpleasant that it makes you profoundly glad that nobody’s heard of them since 2002. Seeing the documentary some four years after it came out only makes many of the modern bands sound more myopic and idiotic, considering what happened to their careers afterwards. The documentary is trying to show up the young pretenders for how vacuous, vain, idiotic and unimaginative they are compared to the No Wave musicians, but surely this is a moot point. As a result, time is spent on a number of modern bands who don’t deserve it, whilst No Wave pioneers such as Mars and James Chance and the Contortions are mentioned only in the passing. In the subsequent showdown between the No Wavers and the new groups, the old groups come off infinitely better. Lydia Lunch is particularly scathing, and looking at the evidence it’s impossible not to agree with her. The tone is not of old fogeys upset by being deposed but of innovative and driven artists thoroughly disappointed with the blatant careerism and the lack of imagination on display. Of the new bands, only Gogol Bordello (whose music I do not know) comes off well – he is clearly an intelligent guy with a deep and sincere passion for the music he makes, and is just as upset at the lack of imagination displayed by today’s guitar bands.
Despite burning out well over 20 years ago, No Wave still holds a large appeal for people such as me who weren’t around at the time. Watching the first part of this film brought me back to all the reasons why No Wave has this strange draw for me: the passion and intensity of the music, the raw, no-nonsense world view of the musicians, the sheer inventiveness and originality of approach, and above all the shocking alien-ness of the music itself. However, the times and the place that inspired this music – 1970s New York – are gone. The specific tensions that fuelled the scene have changed greatly as well, as has the musical landscape. Although Kill Your Idols does provoke thought about the disparity between No Wave and the current music scene in New York, other then geography it presents no sensible reason why we should compare the two in the first place. The division between the No Wavers and the modern bands is inevitable as they ultimately share so little common ground, both sonically and idealistically. I would have liked to see the film go into more detail about No Wave – the film would have benefited greatly from interviews with Mars and James Chance and the Contortions, as well as other members of DNA, and there were loads of No Wave bands untouched – and what made it so special. It would have been interesting to compare No Wave to the Mutant Disco movement that followed it, with 99 Records, Liquid Liquid, ESG and the like. Mutant Disco was musically very different from No Wave – particularly in its embrace of dance music and black culture – but was influenced by many of the same issues and ideas, and a comparison between the two would have made more sense then the comparison in the film. It would also be nice to hear from some more bands that were more obviously influenced by No Wave then the pale post-punk/garage rock revivalists who appeared in the film. Sonic Youth, Swans and Foetus – bands who came around shortly after No Wave and were influenced by its sound and approach – all appear in the documentary and are interesting and insightful on the original No Wave scene, so why not, say, UT, The Birthday Party, Einsturzende Neubauten or Fire Engines? Having said that, the first 30 minutes of Kill Your Idols are excellent, and Lydia Lunch and Arto Lindsay in particular are wonderful throughout. As a huge No Wave fan, though, it’s hard not to feel a little short-changed by the end product.
No Wave was more important then its flash-in-the-pan duration might suggest. The fact that to this day the music has lost none of its visceral punch is a testament to the strength and individuality of its creators’ visions, and it stands as a stellar example of triumph of imagination and passion over adversity. Perhaps one of the reasons that No Wave holds such fascination in today’s derivative, reissue-repackage culture is that its contradictory and divisive nature along with its uncompromising sonic extremism means that it can’t be easily pinned down, reprocessed and revived to be sold again to a new generation. The music of No Wave, the intriguing characters that made the music and the things that drove and shaped their particular artistic outlook are worthy of a fascinating book and/or documentary, but sadly this has not yet been made.

Monday, July 07, 2008

Pick An Album For Every Year You've Been Alive

Because I actually have nothing better to do.

1985 – This Nation’s Saving Grace – The Fall
1986 – Liberty Belle and the Black Diamond Express – The Go-Betweens
1987 – Clutching At Straws – Marillion
1988 – The House Of Love – The House Of Love
1989 – Me & A Monkey On The Moon – Felt
1990 – Nowhere – Ride
1991 – Loveless – My Bloody Valentine
1992 – Slanted & Enchanted – Pavement
1993 – Transient Random Noise Bursts With Announcements – Stereolab
1994 – Dummy - Portishead
1995 – Mobile Safari – The Pastels
1996 – All The Pretty Little Horses – Current 93
1997 – Levitate – The Fall
1998 – Mezzanine - Massive Attack
1999 – Musick To Play In The Dark Volume 1 – Coil
2000 – Musick To Play In The Dark Volume 2 – Coil
2001 – Other Animals – Erase Errata
2002 – Up – Peter Gabriel
2003 – The Real New Fall LP – The Fall
2004 – The Power Out - Electrelane
2005 – Axes – Electrelane
2006 – Burial - Burial
2007 – We Are All Pan’s People – The Focus Group
2008 – Other Channels – The Advisory Circle

Much more competition for the earlier years I can tell you.

Friday, June 06, 2008

Top 10 Non-Punk Albums of 1977

Ah, 1977. Year Zero. The Year Everything Changed. The year punk arrived in a hurricane of raw passion, blood and snot to save us from the bloated prog rock bores hogging the airwaves. The Clash! The Sex Pistols! The Damned! What a pity it all sucked. Certain corners of the music press would have you believe that punk was the be all and end all, and that the early 1970s were a cultural wasteland redeemed only by the odd David Bowie or Lou Reed album. This is, of course, complete nonsense. Last year there was a lot of fuss about the thirtieth anniversary of punk, so here is a list of my top 10 albums from 1977 that have nothing to do with punk, to prove there was plenty to listen to if you didn’t believe that a bunch of badly-dressed Stones wannabes were going to change the world. I have deliberately avoided David Bowie’s classic 77 albums, Low and “Heroes”, because of their huge impact on punk and post-punk music, and also classic early post-punk albums such as Wire’s Pink Flag and Suicide and Television’s debut albums on the ground of fairness.

10. Rush – A Farewell To Kings

Rush only really hit their stride with 1976’s 2112, a gloriously overblown concept album stuffed to breaking point with spaceships, evil priests and Ayn Rand inspired dystopias all played out to an immaculate hard riffing virtuoso prog rock. Remarkably they only got better from then on, with next year’s A Farewell To Kings proving that they had no trouble following up a classic LP. The title track is a brutal anti-monarchist rant set to crunchy guitar and blistering drumming that clearly gave the Manics a few ideas, and ‘Closer To The Heart’ slyly broke the band into FM radio. The swirling ‘Cygnus X-1’ is more preposterous space rock that paves the way for the band’s next album, Hemispheres, which would see them maturing and filling out their sound with gargantuan keyboards. However the unavoidable highlight of the album is ‘Xanadu’, an epic based on Coleridge’s ‘Kubla Khan’ which shows the band at their breathtaking best (although dear old Samuel must turn in his grave every time he hears those lyrics). Alex Lifeson’s guitar mutates from hard riffing to acoustic arpeggios to the signature riff that sounds eerily like ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’ only good, whilst Neil Peart is let loose on a range of drums, bells and gongs to help drive the song to its thunderous conclusion.

9. Steely Dan – Aja

On Aja Steely Dan’s Walter Becker and Donald Fagen reached their peak sonically, demanding an increasingly accomplished array of session musicians to do take after take of the songs on this album until they got the sound in their heads on tape. As such it was the antithesis of punk’s rough and ready passion. Steely Dan were no slouches in the songwriting department either, their sophisticated jazzy chords and smooth melodies miles away from punk’s three chord limit. As a result of Becker and Fagen’s increasingly perfectionist work ethic, Aja is played immaculately. The music is sublime, from Wayne Shorter’s sax solo on the opening track to the silky funk underpinning ‘I Got The News’. However, just because this record is classy doesn’t mean that it’s all sweatness and light – far from it. Becker and Fagen are at their most snide and sarcastic throughout, as ‘Black Cow’ is the bizarre and sinister aftermath of a failed relationship and ‘Deacon Blue’ is the song of a drunk, jazz-loving hipster woefully out of place in a sports-obsessed America. Cryptic and sinister yet smooth enough to be played on the radio to unsuspecting civilians everywhere, Steely Dan were, in their own way, much more dangerous then punk.

8. Genesis – Wind And Wuthering

There is a press shot of Genesis from around the time The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway came out. Peter Gabriel sits in the centre, wearing only a pair of torn jeans, hair cropped short, glaring moodily out at the camera. The rest of Genesis are standing behind him, grinning sheepishly with unkempt shoulder length hair and dressed like your dad after a visit to the charity shop. In retrospect, Gabriel’s departure seems inevitable – he had already moved on from his band mates and into the future. However, the fact that he was already somewhat removed from proceedings meant that Genesis were able to continue business as usual without him for another two LPs as the core line up of Steve Hackett, Phil Collins, Tony Banks and Mike Rutherford. However, Wind And Wuthering was the final album they made before Steve Hackett quit, leaving Collins, Banks and Rutherford to descend into MOR oblivion. However, in spite of internal and external tension, Wind And Wuthering stands up respectably as Genesis’ last will and testament. The opening ‘Eleventh Earl Of Mar’ is a fantastic prog rock epic worthy of the Gabriel years, with Phil sounding very Gabriel-like, and Hackett unleashing his full bag of tricks, from sinister distorted leads to the delicate acoustic bridge. There is also some awesomely overblown keyboards and piano runs from Tony Banks. ‘One For The Vine’ is an extended piece about a reluctant messiah, showing that Gabriel didn’t take all of the band’s surreal humour with him when he left, and ‘Your Own Special Way’ proved that the group could get radio play without compromising their sound. The album ends, appropriately on an elegiac note, with ‘Unquiet Slumbers For The Sleepers’/‘In That Quiet Earth’/‘Afterglow’ providing the final Genesis epic, building up to the gorgeous apocalyptic finale in which Genesis as we know and love them say goodbye for the last time. If only they’d ended it there, Wind And Wuthering would have been the perfect conclusion to Genesis’ legacy.

7. Gong – Live Floating Anarchy 1977

The Clash may have wanted a riot of their own, but Gong, loathed hippies though they may have been, were formed in the France student revolution of 1968. As a result, radical politics had always run deep in their veins underneath their drugged-out hippy spiritualism, and when all the young groups were screaming ‘Anarchy!’ in 77, they were more then happy to join in and show them how it was really done. Having lost Steve Hillage to a solo career and Pierre Moerlen and Didier Malherbe to fusion blandness, head pothead pixie Daevid Allen and wife Gilly Smyth teamed up with a bunch of fellow malcontents and, abandoning their previous laid-back sound, unleashed deranged, techno-infused space-punk. Just as far out but more mean and gritty, and spitting radical student polemic, Gong were far more in tune with the time then many of their prog-rock peers, as shown by the fact that they played live alongside The Fall and Crass.

6. Parliament – Funketelechy vs The Placebo Syndrome

Funketelechy vs The Placebo Syndrome is arguably Parliament’s masterpiece, perhaps even more so then 1975’s sublime Mothership Connection. By now Clinton’s amalgamation of black American music had matured into something that was uniquely his own, and Funketelechy.... arguably sees him perfect that vision. The usual ridiculous concepts are there, this time George Clinton and his band of merry men are out to battle Sir Nose d’Voidoffunk and warn the listeners of the dangers of falling in thrall to The Placebo Syndrome, representing consumerism. The lyrics provide as much silly fun as ever, but the band is on absolute top form, battling it out over a number of solid funk grooves over which anything can and does happen. ‘Wizard of Finance’ is a ballad of sorts, well, musically anyway, whilst ‘Flash Light’ and ‘Bop Gun’, both featuring Bernie Worrell’s awesomely funky synthesised bass, must be two of the most irresistible dancefloor juggernauts ever unleashed upon the human race.

5. Pink Floyd – Animals

During 1977, Pink Floyd were pretty much Public Enemy Number 1 in the punk community. With their ‘pretentious’ music and their rich rock star lifestyles they symbolised everything that punk was meant to be kicking out at, quite literally in the case of Johnny Rotten’s ‘I Hate Pink Floyd’ t-shirt. However, if any of the punks had actually bothered to listen to the Floyd’s 77 release Animals, they may have been surprised with how much they had in common. Animals shows that Roger Waters could match Johnny Rotten for misanthropy any day, and then some. Musically the band are at their most sharp and brutal, with Dave Gilmour’s guitar raging and snarling throughout ‘Dogs’, and, although the songs are long, there is a clarity and focus at work which ensures that not an unnecessary note is played. The album’s brutal caricaturing of Thatcherite business men as dogs and pigs and its portrayal of the masses as sheep following their leaders blindly to slaughter puts The Clash’s unimaginative soapbox sloganeering to shame. The punks could complain all they want, but Pink Floyd continued to shift units and sell out stadiums, and the musical and lyrical qualities that shine through in Animals would ensure their survival as a valid creative force as far as 1979’s The Wall, outlasting most of their prog rock contempories.

4. Kraftwerk – Trans-Europe Express

By 1977, most of the krautrock groups that helped make the late 60s and early 70s such an exciting time for music had burned themselves out. Kraftwerk were just hitting their stride and were showing no signs of slowing down or stopping. Following on from the innovations of Autobahn and Radioactivity, Trans-Europe Express is possibly Kraftwerk’s finest achievement, the ultimate paean to the unity of man and technology. Whilst their earlier releases have dated somewhat, Trans-Europe Express still sounds amazing today. The shimmering city-scapes of ‘Europe Endless’ and the title track’s glorious dancefloor monotony capture the majesty of decaying grandeur beautifully, whilst ‘The Hall Of Mirrors’ is a genuinely disturbing exploration of narcissism and self-image which seems even more pertinent in this age of plastic surgery and botox. But the finest track on the album is possibly ‘Showroom Dummies’, which betrays the band’s wry sense of humour and sees them playing with their robot image for the first time over creepy yet irresistibly danceable electronica. This album would go on to have a huge influence on the post punk and electronic scene, as well as disco and hip-hop. Artists as diverse as Donna Summers, The Human League, Africa Bambata and David Bowie have cited this record’s influence. Kraftwerk themselves would spend their remaining career refining the work they did on this album.

3. Goblin – Suspiria

Goblin were an Italian prog rock band. Fans of King Crimson and Genesis, they wound up working on the soundtracks to the films of director Dario Argento and never looked back. Their work so well complemented his films that he got them to write the soundtrack to his impressionistic horror Suspiria before filming it, and worked the film around the music. Both the soundtrack and the film display how well placed his faith was. The soundtrack is the perfect accompaniment to Argento’s dark, nightmarish and brutal horror about witches who run a dance school, but is equally effective on its own. The band eschew normal film score clichés, instead creating a dark, murky and tribalistic sound based around droning improvisation, malevolent chanting and clattering percussion. The music lurches from creepy looped celesta and bells to all-out thunderous assault and back again, via moments of unbearable tension. Suspiria is justly regularly rated as one of the most terrifying movies ever, and one listen to this soundtrack reveals one of the reasons why – this music alone is enough to send you running for the light.

2. Univers Zero – 1313

Speaking of malevolent European prog... Univers Zero were a Belgium prog rock band lead by drummer Daniel Denis. Influenced equally by Magma’s malevolent warped space prog, H. P. Lovecraft’s cosmic horror stories and 20th century chamber music, Univers Zero were anything but easy listening. 1313, their debut album, is a portal into the depths of the crawling chaos. Bassoon, viola and harmonium are given as much space as guitar, bass and drums to create music that has very few links with anything else in rock music. Scrapes and drones build to vicious frenzies; instruments play in different keys and time signatures at the same time. Dark, ritualistic and intense, the music sounds almost like it wasn’t created for human ears. The record is almost entirely acoustic, yet it manages to achieve a pitch of terror that would send most black metal bands running for their lives. The only reference points I can think of that come close to doing Univers Zero justice are the scarier King Crimson stuff from the 73-74 period and Magma at their most demonic, like on Kohntarkosz. But really, these guys were out there on their own. Incredibly, 1979’s Heresie would reach even further heights of dark malevolence, and the group would continue making brutally twisted prog well into the 80s.

1. Fela Kuti – Zombie

Nigerian musician Fela Kuti discovered James Brown and invented Afro-beat, a fusion of jazz, funk and traditional African music. Zombie remains his most well known album, partially due to the context surrounding it. The song ‘Zombie’, which takes up all of Side 1, is a vitriolic attack on the brutality of the Nigerian military, with Fela accusing the soldiers of behaving like zombies – he sings ‘Zombie no go think unless you tell him to think’, and then barks orders like ‘Attention! Double up! Fall in! Fall out! Fall down! Get ready!’ like a deranged sergeant major whilst the backing vocalists chant ‘Zombie!’. The record became hugely popular, leading to people shouting ‘Zombie!’ at soldiers. Unfortunately the military responded to Fela’s criticism of their brutality... well... brutally, leading to a series of devastating attacks on Fela and his family, during which he was horrendously beaten and his aged mother was chucked out a bedroom window to her death. Even more incredible then the context is the music itself. Zombie is arguably Fela’s greatest album. All the Afro-beat elements are in place in excelsis – the scratchy, repetitious guitars, the rolling drums, Fela’s trumpet playing, the chanting – and it all ties together to create an utterly infectious groove over one chord, which is repeated until the end of the side of vinyl, building into an unstoppable frenzy. Side 2 is taken up by the equally long and equally good ‘Mister Follow Follow’, its subject, the perils of blindly following authority, suitably thematically related. This time, though, the band take a slightly more mellow approach, allowing the listener to recover somewhat from the righteous frenzy of Side 1. Unbelievably, with all that stuff going on, Fela would get round to releasing 5 other great albums in 1977 alone, a feat unmatched by any of the other artists in this list.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Gig Review: Rings 02.04.08 Nice N Sleazy

Rings’ debut album Black Habit is an early contender for best record of 2008 and sees the band comfortably stepping in to fill the position of Greatest Current Pop Band recently vacated by Electrelane. I suspected as much on listening to the album, but they confirm my suspicions with aplomb tonight. A series of delays and the thoroughly average post-rock noodlings of support band Galchen don’t do anything to put anyone in a good mood, but once the band actually get on the stage and start playing, I am instantly blown away. Rings are Nina Mehta (vocals and usually guitar), Kate Rosko (vocals and usually keyboards) and Abbey Portner (vocals and usually drums). Sadly, Abbey Portner is too ill to play tonight, but the other two gamely play on without her. Fortunately the sparse tribal nature of the songs means that they can work around their missing drummer, playing the drums (consisting solely of a floor tom and a ride cymbal) in between their own parts or with the help of a primitive drum machine. Mehta and Rosko sit facing each other rather then the audience, their concentration fixed on each other and their instruments. As a member of the audience, you feel as if you are eavesdropping on something personal and intimate. Pretty much every review of the album has mentioned The Raincoats, largely because the post-punk legends’ second LP Odyshape is just about the only easily identifiable musical reference point for Rings. Like The Raincoats, Rings use their lack of conventional ability to their advantage, playing simply but with great inventiveness. Sparse, scratchy guitar lines and cycling clusters of gentle keyboard mix with sparse tribal drumbeats, with no particular part taking the lead, whilst voices sing overlapping and vaguely discordant harmonies, from lilting nursery-rhyme to pagan chanting. The end result could be a complete mess, but is informed by an understanding of space and a delicate melodicism, becoming a completely individual sound that is deeply moving. Any accusations of being excessively fey or twee are crushed by the band’s range of vivid expression, with their music moving seamlessly from melodic sweetness to darker dissonance and back again, often within the same song. Whilst I had to listen to the album a couple of times to become adjusted to the group’s sound, live the band plays with a warmth, delicacy and immediacy that is instantly enthralling. This is a band that sound like no one else on earth, yet still are able to pack an emotional punch. It’s not often you can say that, let alone in this day and age. For this reason alone, Rings deserve some of your time and attention.