Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Album of the Month: Joanna Newsom: Ys (2006)

(OK I know this came out towards the end of last year rather then this year, but I’m on a limited budget and I don’t get given these things for free, you know. And, for the record, had I heard this album before doing my end of year chart, it would certainly be on it.)

Writing about ‘Ys’ seems like an almost pointless task, due to the immediate and incredibly strong reaction she causes in most people on almost first listen. Such is the nature of the record that it inspires in the listener either vitriolic hatred or undying love within the first 20 seconds of hearing it. And there are understandable reasons for being suspicious of Joanna Newsom. Her public image of a twee harp player who sings proggy epics about fairies in a child’s voice does her music no end of harm, smacking a it does of daft gimmickry. But fortunately there is no gimmickry here; the harp just happens to be Newsom’s instrument of choice, an instrument which she plays with the skill of a virtuoso. The ultra-hip collaborators do their bit to boost the record’s cool factor, and the album is indeed recorded beautifully and sensitively by Steve Albini, and provided with a tasteful and complementary orchestral backing by Van Dyke Parks. These collaborators’ contribution is important, but there is no doubt that ‘Ys’ is Joanna’s work through and through. The album is a five song suite that is built around the musical centre of her harp playing and singing. Studying both classical harp and classical composition has provided Newsom with the tools to make this kind of music, but it the strength of her musical vision allows her not to be constrained by them. The music draws from both classical harp music, but also the cosmic folk music of, say, the Incredible String Band and beyond. The individual songs are long and winding, with development through contrasting musical sections, but always with a strong sense of melody and purpose, to the extent that by the second or third listen one finds the album’s many melodies hard to dislodge from one’s head. Just as wide-ranging and expressive are Newsom’s voice and lyrics. Her much maligned voice, once you get past its initial oddness, reveals itself to be a thing of beauty, melodic and full of passion and expression, ranging from soft whispers and gentle coos to the point where it cracks underneath the strain of the emotion behind it. Newsom’s lyrics are full of references to literature and nature, often taking the form of bizarre and cryptic parables. ‘Monkey & Bear’, for instance, is a tale of exploitation and escape, and ‘Emily’ is named after Newsom’s sister. Lines like ‘I wasn’t born of a whistle, or milked from a thistle at twilight / No; I was all horns and thorns, sprung out fully formed, knock-kneed and upright’ will have the faithful guessing for years at their meaning and will irritate and put off further the doubters. But Newsom’s delicate prose and wordiness are not the products of pretension. All her songs are imbued, lyrically and musically, with a deep emotional core. The detail and precision of her music are borne out of an emotional honesty; these are complex emotions, and Newsom refuses to simplify them into pat clichés or bland generalizations; she refuses to sell her music short. The album’s centerpiece, ‘Only Skin’, is an epic with shades of Kate Bush about, among other things, the joys of ‘being a woman’ which covers a staggering amount of musical and emotional ground. Newsom is capable of directness when it is required, too – it doesn’t get much more direct then ‘Stay with me for a while / That’s an awfully real gun’. In fact, ‘Ys’ flies in the face of Joanna’s child-like waif shtick by being very mature music. In today’s musical climate of braindead macho indie rock posturing and emo whining, where glib ‘social realism’ passes for intelligence and apathetic self pity passes for emotion, one would expect the worst type of lazy, misogynistic second rate hacks to start waxing lyrical about women in music as a breath of fresh air, bringing ‘oceanic’ and ‘sensual’ qualities to a hard and masculine music scene. Newsom is able to transcend such lazy clichés by both the strength and boldness of her musical ambition and her determination to realize it. Despite its charming joie de vivre and sense of playful wandering, not a second of ‘Ys’ feels unnecessary or out of place. Joanna’s music seems to pour out of her, creating ‘a moment of almost-unbearable vision / Doubled over with the hunger of lions’. ‘Ys’ is visual, hallucinatory, intoxicating, and, yes, sensual. It makes demands off you that few modern records do: you will have to sit down with it, maybe with the lyric sheet, and listen intently for the full hour. But, in providing a fully realized, utterly engrossing musical and emotional world, it will pay back your attention so much more then most other modern records.

Sunday, January 28, 2007

Track of the Week:

I'm feeling like crap today so I'm listening to The Wedding Present's 'George Best' album on my headphones, partly as a treat because it's a favourite of mine and partly because it pretty much sums up how I feel today. I trudge along the street singing along, probably looking and sounding like a psycho but like I care. Because I'm in a bad mood, I decide to stop off in my local independent record shop and flick through the records, as that usually calms me down a bit. Maybe the price of that Fall B-sides compilation will have gone down. As I look around the shop, I am confronted with the new issue of Mojo, which , surprise surprise, features the Fab Four, in all their psychedelic glory, beaming down from the cover with a mix of stoned benevolence and matter-of-fact arrogance. 40 years since Sergeant Peppers. Does anyone really care? As I flick through the magazine, a wave of nausea wells up inside me. Elvis - boring. The Sex Pistols - boring. The Beatles - for Christ's sake. The media constantly bombards us with the same messages, the same images, the same music. Recently, I was able to go back to Revolver and Rubber Soul and almost - almost - hear them without the weight of context, cultural relevance and lazy nostalgia. For a moment, I was able to hear them as I heard them as a kid and fall in love with them all over again, for nothing more then the melodies, the songs themselves. This magazine has set me back years; it'll be ages before I'm able to listen to the Beatles again. The problem with living in the information age is that almost nothing is able to retain mystique - how magical is Revolver when you know what John Lennon had for breakfast the day he wrote 'Tomorrow Never Knows'? The song is shorn of all its unknowable magic and becomes the obvious and inevitable result of what happened before it. This is not helped at all by the mass marketing industry constantly releasing extraneous compilations, remixes etc in time for the Christmas market every year. Or by music's constant presence in adverts, films, TV programmes, pubs, clubs - by linking the magical to the mundane, more often then not you make the magical more mundane. You're almost forced to seek out the obscure in order to find some form of music that is able to hold some personal meaning to you that isn't tarnished by over-exposure. I went to the record fair yesterday and bought Eyeless In Gaza's first LP. I have never seen an article on Eyeless In Gaza, and have no idea what Martyn Bates or Peter Becker look like. The guy behind the counter actually gave me a discount on the record because I didn't ask him some horrifically obscure question - 'Do you have the Fire Engines' first 45?' ect etc. Even record geeks think I'm a record geek. Great. I have a pile of CDs in my flat that I've just not found the time to listen to yet, and still more that I need to get round to listening to as much as they deserve. I now have this terror of music I like becoming over-familiar, so I actually ration my favourite albums. I've not listened to Hex Enduction Hour for over a month, I might give it a spin some time soon. It almost borders on obsession - I'll be trying to pay attention to whatever task in my mundane daily existence preys on my time, and my mind will wonder. Joanna Newsom is going to have a hard time following Ys because it comes so close to perfection. New Fall album out soon. Should Josef K have stuck around for a second album? Should Husker Du reform? I've always had a thing about bands reforming, isn't that just what sad old gits do when they've run out of money and integrity? Still it was good to get a chance to see the Fire Engines live... And there's always something playing in my head, even if it's just a half-remembered guitar hook circling in the background; like the ringing in my ears, it never really goes away. So much noise... it gets to the stage where it's like having the same thoughts circling in your head like old clothes stuck in a washing machine, going round, round, round... The new year will bring with it even more new music, some of it great, some of it terrible. The NME are already hyping up a load of terrible chancers with bad hair, borrowed clothes and no talent as the Next Big Thing, a shed load of reissues are scheduled, and there will of course be the chance discoveries listened to on a whim... I've not gone off music. I'm not sick, tired or drunk (The June Brides have started singing 'Sick, Tired and Drunk' in my head.. shut up! Screw you Phil Wilson, you and your amazing songs). I could write about how great The Wedding Present are, or maybe how the Young Marble Giants' stark, quiet, minimal pop sounds all the more striking in these days of over-cluttering and excess volume, or maybe about how much I like Ys. But I just don't feel up to it. There is no Track of the Week this week. Listen to what you like.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Track of the Week: Big Star: September Gurls (1974)

That Big Star weren't huge is perhaps one of pop music's greatest injustices. Hampered by poor distribution, record company squabbling and the fact that Alex Chilton is probably a bit nuts, their music never reached the audience it should have. 'September Gurls' is a perfect example of what made the band so brilliant. Normally, the musical label 'power pop', the fact that the record came out in the early seventies and an inability to spell simple words might send you understandably running for the hills, but it shouldn't do in this case. Like most of their songs, the influences are plain to see: Beatles-esque melody, the chiming folk-rock of the Byrds, the muscular drive of the Who. But Big Star were always more than the sum of their influences. Songwriters Alex Chilton and Chris Bell had an excellent ear for stunning melodies. Chris Bell had, to all intents and purposes, been kicked out of the band by 1974, causing the band's slow and painful collapse. You can hear the signs of desperation taking hold in the slightly frenzied edge that the band had developed by this stage: despite its sugar-sweet melody, 'September Gurls' is raw and rough, sounding like it is only barely holding itself together, and Chilton sings as if his life depends on it, betraying the loss and bitterness at the heart of the song. The lyrics are touchingly simple, without an ounce of excess - lines like 'I loved you, well, never mind' don't really need explaining. A gorgeous, frayed solo follows, the band providing a powerful and competent backing to Chilton's slightly unhinged playing. Right down to the drum break, nothing feels out of place or excessive, a rare asset in that era. Perhaps it was just too good to last. Without Chris Bell, Chilton became increasingly frustrated at exploitative record companies and the band's general lack of success, going on to create Big Star's brilliantly deranged but utterly uncommercial third album as his band and career fell apart around him. And that was that. Although Big Star were finished, their influence grew in their absence. American acts such as R.E.M. drew on their marriage of inventive folk melodicism and rock power, and Teenage Fanclub based their entire career on rewriting 'September Gurls', not to mention the hoards of 80s indie bands in thrall to Big Star's charms. Like the Velvets, Big Star's influence far outweighs their actual record sales. But their real legacy lies in their music - three albums worth of inventive melodic pop music that ranks up there with the best of the genre.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

2006 Year In Review

Now that 2006 is actually over, it is time for the End of Year Review. Hooray. So, what musical joys did 2006 bring us? The slow, painful death of the post-punk revival (see: The Rapture's second album. Or rather, don't), the Great Pub Rock Revival and the return of macho idiocy in mainstream indie rock - thanks Arctic Monkeys, Fratellis etc etc. It wasn't all bad though.

Top 10 Albums of 2006

1. Burial - Burial

I was going to make this album of the month a while back, but recoiled from writing about it simply because I thought it was too much out of my normal field. It doesn't matter though, because the album speaks for itself. Muffled noise and fragments of conversation drift over lopsided beats to create an album that is immediately bold and adventurous yet with instant and clear emotional impact. I've never heard anything like it, which means it easily deserves the number 1 spot.

2. The Knife - Silent Shout

Everyone's favourite Swedish electro-pop duo return, but darker and nastier. 'Silent Shout' is the sound of the sinister undercurrents to 'Deep Cuts' taking centre stage, as a nightmarish cast of ghoulish characters clamour to be heard. But remarkably, The Knife keep their pop instincts intact, never once faltering. Dark, sensuous and terrifying, this record is at least as good as its excellent predecessor.

3. Scritti Politti - White Bread Black Beer

I always thought the odds on Scritti returning were pretty low, so it was great just to have them back. But to have them produce an album this good, and then return to touring and give some of the best gigs of the year, was truly special indeed. 'White Bread Black Beer' finds Green Gartside with some of his most personal and gorgeous songs to date.

4. The Organ - Grab That Gun

Maybe The Organ were always doomed to failure, but their only album is still magical. The all-girl quintet from Canada took on The Smiths and, perhaps inevitably, lost. There are moments on this album where they come so close, but that makes their heroic failure all the more bitter-sweet, which is probably how Katie Sketch wants it.

5. Wolf Eyes - Human Animal

Wolf Eyes have succeeded in making noise music fun and bringing it to a surprisingly large audience. Fortunately, they refuse to rest o their laurels, making possibly their best and most forward-thinking album yet.

6. Erase Errata - Night Life

As the post-punk revival congeals into a collection of turgid cliches, Erase Errata fight valiantly on. Where the other revivalists ignore the sonic and political approaches that made the original records so enduring, EE have made yet another sonically adventurous and politically driven album. Compare this to The Rapture's second album for lessons in how and how not to do it.

7. Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Show Your Bones

"It's not as good as Fever To Tell!" Yeah whatever. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs still deliver, proving that , unlike many of their lesser peers (*cough*Strokes), they are able to change and develop, whilst still keeping everything that made them exciting in the first place.

8. Kode9 and The Spaceape - Memories of the Future

Bizarre, futuristic and engrossing, if again slightly outside my remit. This is a fantastic, challenging and truly forward thinking record.

9. Welcome - Sirs

This record sounds so out of place. It sounds like Syd Barret's shade kidnapped Sonic Youth and took them to his acid hell. Swirling sixties psychedelia clashes with atonal guitar noise and scratchy punk dissonance to produce a baffling but engrossing debut. The fact that it's sonically so hard to pin down probably earns it a mention here anyway.

10. The Long Blondes -Someone To Drive You Home

Blondie meets Pulp. But done very very well. This is the perfect antidote to the Arctic Monkey's pedestrian indie-rock by numbers. The Long Blondes steal from very obvious sources, but do so with real charm, wit and vitality. The tunes are fantastically catchy, the lyrics are sharp without being clever-clever. A well needed reminder that you need both style and substance to succeed

Bubbling under: Belle and Sebastian, Current 93, CSS and others.

Top 10 Reissues of 2006

1. This Heat - Out Of Cold Storage

These records are absolutely essential, and now you can get them without bankrupting yourself over ebay or wasting nights over file sharing networks.

2. Denim - Back In Denim

Felt failed to make Lawrence a star, so he quit, went to New York, and thought up Denim: a post-modern Glam Rock group who should have brought him the fame and fortune he desired. It didn't, but Back In Denim is fantastic: clever, fun, ironic. Pulp stole their sound whole-sale, and its meta-pop anthems are a clear influence on LCD Soundsystem's caustic world view. And 'I'm Against The Eighties' has never sounded more pertinent.

3. The Fall - The Infotainment Scan

The best Fall album of the nineties, with electro, glam, drum and bass, and swipes at everything and everyone from Bono and Suede to nostalgia and old age. Obviously a masterpiece.

4. The Au Pairs - Stepping Out Of Line

Seminal but sadly overlooked post punk group. I was hoping this would get them the respect they deserve, but press indifference and liner notes talking about Franz and Hard Fi would suggest not. Ho hum.

5. Josef K - Entomology

It has come to my attention that the excellent Josef K reissues on LTM, which included between two discs everything the band ever did, is criminally out of print, so this compilation will have to suffice for those of you not cool enough to have them already. Whatever. Great band, Franz owe obvious debt, etc etc etc. Just get it.

6. ESG - Come Away With ESG

New York dance-punk pioneers. Have been sampled uncountable times in rap music. This really could have come out yesterday, only if it had, it probably wouldn't be as good and as innovative.

7. The Triffids - Born Sandy Devotional

The great 80s aussie band that wasn't The Go-Betweens or The Bad Seeds. This is a much neglected classic.

8. The Cocteau Twins - Lullabies to Violane

Now you can have all the Cocteau Twins EPs without the bother of trawling the net and second hand record shops for beaten up vinyl. Rejoice

9. Ut - In Gut's House

Post No Wave noise classic. Still sounds singular, bizarre and powerful. Kind of like a clinically unhinged Sleater Kinney. Which is good.

10. Delta 5 - Singles and Sessions

Delta 5 should have released this instead of their patchy debut. Contains all the classic singles and superior versions of album tracks.

Musical Low Points
Hmm. Arctic Monkeys, deaths of Syd Barret, Grant McLennan, Arthur Lee, James Brown....