Eaten by Monsters

A few years ago, in the halcyon days of my youth, I found myself in a mind-numbingly menial summer job that involved excessive exposure to Radio One all day everyday.  This was, of course, a black period in my life, but the incessant nagging and appalling playlist repetition did serve one purpose.  It was in this manner that I first heard about the SXSW (South by South West) Festival.

Now it appears that SXSW can be the making or breaking of many a new band, and is as such considered “quite a big deal”.  Alas, SXSW is held in Austin, Texas (allegedly the last bastion of taste, decency and free thinking in that cultural wasteland that is the Deep South) and therefore a bit of a bugger to get to if you’re from the UK.

So, in order to raise the funds for their airfare, Scottish indie scenesters Found have released the download-only LP Snarebrained.  I know two “charity” posts in as many weeks is a little gauche of me, and this record consists mostly of remixes and collaborations, which is a format that can be rather hit or miss, but it is still rather good despite itself.  And it’s all for a good cause, as if that made any difference.

You can buy and stream Snarebrained from their website (see link above) but to whet your appetite here’s an old one of theirs:

Found – Admission Number Two

This album came out in October and completely passed me by.  However A Time and a Place is now getting a US release on Team Love Records this coming April, and was brought to my attention via the Team Love Library.  Apparently they’re so excited about securing its state-side release that they’ve put it up for free download for the next month.

I get the impression that the record was a long time coming, as the first singles were released all the way back in ’06, but then debuts can always be a labour of love.  Popup aren’t quite as impressive as some of the other Scottish bands I’ve been getting excited about lately, but they are still very good.  The production is sharp and spacious, but with a tendency to err on the side of “jangly indie” when a little more effort could have made it a little more esoteric.  It puts me in mind of a scotch Two Gallants – thought there’s a few more layers to this record.

Where they really shine, however, is in the songwriting.  Thankfully eschewing traditional boy-girl “oh I miss you so much” drivel in favour of more unusual ideas (see album opener Love Triangle), the lyrics are never less than good and occasionally brilliant.  It may sound like faint praise to say they’re merely “good”, but in the current musical environment it’s enough to put them head and shoulders above most of the competition.

Popup – Love Triangle

Popup – Lucy, What You Trying to Say?

This record is a curious one.  I’d never heard of Kid, You’ll Move Mountains before, and thus approached Loomings (their debut) with a completely “fresh” ear.  As I’ve learned from previous experience, first-time-listening with my “journalist” hat on is not really the best way to hear a new band: it encourages rushed, overly critical conclusions and sweeping generalisations.  In this case I wasn’t “grabbed” by the record on my first listen, but decided to give it a second chance (mainly because the design work is really nice, both on the album cover and their website).  In the entire history of music there are only four or five albums that blew me away on the first listen and that I still like now.  The vast majority of records that make a great first impression hardly ever stick around for more than a month or so.  This is due to a sad fact that’s been slowly dawning on me for a while now: in the current musical climate “accessible” is often synonymous with “shallow”.  It’s the dense, seemingly obtuse records that provide the most depth and reward.

Now Loomings is not exactly what I’d call “dense” and I doubt it’ll become an all-time favourite, but after a few listens it certainly grew on me.  What I’d initially dismissed as amateurish scruffiness now sounds like taught and controlled aggression, which is most certainly a good thing.  The production on this record is really interesting.  It’s slick enough to allow you to play the record in the background, but when you give it your full attention it’s got just enough bite and edge to keep you interested.  One you’ve “got” their music, Kid, You’ll Move Mountains walk the tightrope between accessibility and depth quite masterfully.

It’s a very American record, so if you’re addicted to the mockney stylings of the current London crop then I’d recommend you steer well clear of this.  But if, like me, you’re partial to some rock from across the pond then I recommend you get yourselves a copy of Loomings because it’s very nice indeed.

Kid, You’ll Move Mountains – Wives Tale [sic]

Kid, You’ll Move Mountains – No Applause

On Wednesday I found myself in the delightful Kilburn venue that is The Luminaire watching Anaïs Mitchell.  Anaïs has previously slipped completely under my radar, and it wasn’t until this gig was recommended to me by a friend that I did some digging and found a copy of her latest LP, The Brightness.  Now to a stranger I would best describe her as “very much like Ani DiFranco”, but I know at least one person who’d bite my head off if I was to do that.  It’s no suprise then to learn that she’s signed to Ani’s Righteous Babe Records.

There is certainly no better venue for seeing an acoustic singer songwriter than The Luminaire.  The PA is superb (and the space seems to have been properly “acoustically treated”), the floors and walls are clean, and the whole place is littered with “Shut Up!: we didn’t pay to hear you talk” signs.  That, coupled with the fact that the place was rammed with her die-hard fans, seemed to make for quite a special evening, for Anaïs at least.  Personally I’m of the opinion that there’s nothing more undignified than singing along at a gig, so the crowd was bound to annoy me.

Another factor contributing to my increasingly foul mood was the sheer conceit of the girl.  Now don’t get me wrong, she seemed all kinds of nervous and was certainly humbled by the presence of so many fans, but she kept banging on about an “opera” that she’d written.  The songs are, in a word, excellent, and her finger-picking guitar style is brutal and superbly original.  So what am I getting all het up about, I hear you ask? As a said before: the bare faced cheek of it all.

I’m no opera purist, but from the examples she played us I can’t say I’m expecting any genuine arias or cantatas.  I gather that it’s a (sadly less than subtle) take on the sorry, sorry tale of Orpheus (one of the more heart-wrenching Greek myths) but set in a “dystopian, post-apocalyptic depression-era American town”.  For sure it’s somewhat current thematically, but La Muette de Portici it ain’t… Many believe that concept albums went the way of the dodo along with the Golden Age of Prog’, but happily it’s a form of LP still in existence today.  The main difference now is that they’re never mentioned explicitly.  The themes are more subtle, more obscure; and while an album may tell a story or have a single thematic thread, no one feels the need to shout about it.  As I said, her songs are excellent, and slowly picking up on Orpheus/Euridice references throughout a conventional album would probably be quite a rewarding experience.  Except it never will be, as she’s intent on ramming her intentions down out throats.

In short: The Brightness is a fairly good album, her songs are really good, and she puts on a good show.  But please, in the name of all that is right and proper, give her a slap if you hear her talking about her “opera”.

Anais Mitchell – Old-Fashioned Hat

Anais Mitchell – Your Fonder Heart

I’ve already mentioned in passing that 2008 was a really good year for me musically; not only because of all the great new stuff that was released, but also because I discovered loads of fantastic “old” music that I’d not previously been aware of.  Foremost amongst these new discoveries was my ever growing obsession with The National.  I’d really enjoyed The Boxer LP when it came out in 2007, particularly the 3-on-4 feel of Fake Empire, but last year – at the suggestion of a good friend – I checked out their back catalogue and promptly fell head over heels in love.

Unfortunately I hear they’re not releasing a new album until 2010, but I’ve finally found an excuse to post about them: brothers Aaron and Bryce Dessner, from The National, have produced possibly the greatest compilation album I’ve ever heard about.  It’s being released by the ever-popular-on-these-pages label 4AD, it’s called Dark Was The Night, and it’s in aid of the Red Hot Organization – a charity aiming to raise awareness about AIDS and HIV through popular culture.

The list of contributing artists is quite frankly phenomenal.  You can see the full list here, and almost every single act on there is a personal favourite of mine, and from what I’ve heard so far the songs live up to their pedigree.  To give you an idea of what I’m talking about a random sample of the thirty-odd acts throws up Bon Iver, Beirut, Conor Oberst, The Decemberists…  I’m tempted to list all of them, in fact, because the list is just SO good.

It’s all for charity, so sneaky downloading of it is exceptionally deplorable, but they have released one promotional mp3 from the Dirty Projectors and David Byrne, which I’ve included below.  They have a widget for streaming some of the tracks but I can’t seem to get it to work here.  To remedy the situation I’m including a stream of another track: a cover of Nick Drake’s Cello Song by Jose Gonzalez and The Books.  I’m particularly excited about this one as it’s the first new track from the fantastic The Books that I’ve heard in ages.

All things considered, this is the record I’m most looking forward to at the moment.  It’s released on the 16th of February, and I’d strongly recommend getting it.

The Dirty Projectors and David Byrne – Knotty Pine

Jose Gonzalez and The Books – Cello Song

I’m starting to realise I’ve become a full-on BBC addict, especially now I’ve discovered that I live close enough to Broadcasting House and Television Center to get tickets to see some of my favourite shows.  My treat this week was going to a recording of The News Quiz last night (recorded the night before the friday broadcast to keep things topical).

There were three things that came to me as a surprise about the recording: Firstly it takes nearly two hours to record a 28 minute show.  This I was expecting, but I thought it was because they only used the funniest bits – it turns out that it’s all funny, but their lawers won’t allow them to broadcast most of it.  It was considerably closer to the bone than it appears on air…

Secondly, Charlotte Green looks absolutely nothing like her voice sounds.  As a long time listner to both the show and Radio 4 in general this came as quite a shock given that I had a distinct mental image of what she looked like.

Thirdly, and most suprisingly, it took about two hours to get throgh the door.  They had airport-style security gates – I had to remove my belt to walk through a metal detector and was then thoroughly frisked by a very severe looking guard.  I never knew topical comedy was so secure…

This week’s episode featured Jeremy Hardy, Andy Hamilton, Danielle Ward and Fred Macaulay alongside host Sandy Toksvig and the with inimitable Charlotte Green reading out the news clippings.  If you missed it on the radio you can hear it via the Friday Night Comedy Podcast, or on the BBC iPlayer for the next 7 days.

Last week I dragged myself all the way to the Watford Colosseum to see a workshop by Charles Hazlewood and the BBC Concert Orchestra.  It was called a Homage to Ancient Music and focused on both (Richard) Strauss’ Divertimento on themes by Couperin, and Respighi’s The Birds; both of which are 20thC works that paid homage to works from the Baroque/Renaissance (and therefore “early”).

Recorded by BBC Radio 3 as part of their Discovering Music series, it was always going to be an interesting lecture.  Hazlewood is one of the more populist composers/broadcasters on the BBC’s payroll, and he’s of the firm belief that classical music should be for everyone.  Thankfully this doesn’t mean that he’s at all condescending or patronizing in his approach, but merely results in his lectures being accessible to anyone, no matter what their knowledge level.  If you have no musical-theory knowledge at all you’ll find this an insightful and engaging look at some unfamiliar pieces, and if you are a theory wiz’ there’s still enough technical detail to keep you happy as well.

Recorded orchestral music just can’t compare to witnessing it in the flesh.  The BBC Concert Orchestra (in this instance augmented with a harpsichord to provide “period” example of the source material) are consummate professionals and it was a joy to see them at work.  I shan’t go into the detail of the workshop here: you’ll have to wait for the show’s broadcast date (I’ll post a reminder when I know the actual date it’ll be going out on) which will be on a Sunday afternoon/evening.  That way you’ll also get to hear my dulcet tones on national radio, as I asked a very astute and intelligent-sounding question at the end.

I’m still deeply enamoured of Frightened Rabbit’s LP Midnight Organ Fight, but the production is starting to sound just a little cheesy.  Thankfully the songs (and their dirty, dirty lyrics) are good enough to cut through the polish and still pack a pretty hefty punch.

If you fancy seeing FR “live” then I’d recommend having a goosey at the four songs they played on Gaelic music show Rapal.  The show’s almost exclusively in Gaelic with English subtitles, but it’s worth persevering to witness the songs sans high production values.  It’s not a jaw-droppingly amazing performance, but if you’re a fan of the band and (like me) haven’t seen them live yet, then it certainly makes for interesting viewing.  You can view the show on the iPlayer here, and I guess it’ll be available for the next six days or so.

Frightened Rabbit – Modern Leper

As you may have guessed from all my recent posts related to BBC 6 Music, I got a digital radio for Christmas.  It’s one with a built-in battery, so now I can take it anywhere in the house: no longer is my devotion to radio tied to my computer.  I’ve always been a fan of terrestrial radio – Radio 4 in the morning is bordering on an obsession – but I’m quite new to the plethora of stations offered by this digital malarkey.  Foremost amongst these new pretenders is the aforementioned 6 Music.

Ever since its inception I’m been hankering to hear it; terrestrial radio is frankly useless when it comes to music.  Bob Harris’ show was pretty much the only program I could bear to listen to, but that was always in the wee-small-hours when I should have been out at a disco (or whatever it is us kids are supposed to be doing nowadays), and there’s only so much Americana any one brain can absorb.  It also had the added danger that at any moment someone could discover you actively listening to Radio 2.  A heinous crime that no friendship is likely to survive… Don’t even get me started about Radio 1, and local radio is hardly any better.  Plus, XFM seems to have killed off its old image of being, you know, good and is now all nu-rave dancy tripe.   6 Music (at least from a distance) stood alone as the last bastion of good taste and intelligent playlisting.

The biggest suprise was the quaility of Guy Garvey’s Finest Hour.  The airwaves are littered with ex- (and ocassionally current) musicians who’ve blagged themselves an hour or so on the radio, and they’re more-often-than-not pretty atrocious, so it was a marked shock to discover that the Elbow frontman makes for a top-notch presenter.  It’s perfect listening for a Sunday evening (which is convenient, as that’s when it’s broadcast) and, as ever, it can be found on the stupendous iPlayer so there’s no excuse for missing it.

Elbow – The Bones of You

As I mentioned in my last post, BBC 6 Music have been making an awful lot of noise about their Sound of 2009 list.  White Lies are second on that list (after Little Boots, whom I’ve already profiled on these hallowed pages…).  Now anyone who’s been near a radio in the last few weeks will have heard their single To Lose My Life, and if you have any sense at all you’ll already hate it.  Added to this, the singer seemed to be having a little trouble hitting the notes in the chorus when they preformed it in The Hub.

Not an auspicous start, I’m sure you’ll agree; and certainly enough to ensure I dismissed them without much of a thought.

In my more reflective (read: pretentious) moments I like to kick back with some french philosophic literature, a cup of strong home-ground coffee (single origin, no less; none of that “blend” nonsense) and some Esbjörn Svensson Trio on the stereo.  The now sadly departed Esbjörn Svensson and his eponymous trio are/were possibly the “coolest” jazz band around.  In this case I mean cool in two ways.  Firstly, image-wise: they were stick thin, foreign and almost always photographed in black and white.  Secondly, and more importantly, music-wise: drums, bass and piano is just about as good as jazz gets in my opinion, and on top of that they had a taste for the experimental and were great believers in the joys of fuzz boxes.

Now imagine my horror when midway through a relaxing evening I’m assaulted by a track that sounds like it’s come straight from the Terminator soundtrack.  It turns out that White Lies have a track called E. S. T. A traumatising experience, I’m sure you’ll agree.  Once I recovered from the shock, however, it turned out that the White Lies track wasn’t half as bad as I was expecting, inspiring me to give them a second chance.

Ultimately they’re actually not too bad a band, and I might have quite liked them a few years ago.  But to be frank; do we really need another Joy Division cover band? I think not.

It’s always a shame to dismiss a band’s entire repertoire with such a sweeping generalisation, but alas, with this type of band it’s pretty much inevitable.  I was only ever a casual Joy Division listener (I like the hits and watched the films, but couldn’t ever fully appreciate a whole album of the stuff) and the truth is that I enjoy the the copycats (Interpol, The Bravery, Placebo, The Editors, et al) far more than the source material.  There are hundreds of them, though, and I subconsciously group them all together – guilty by association, if you will.  It’s a pity, as White Lies have actually got a few good songs; it would be great to hear this band if they’d at least attempted to find a genre of their own and hadn’t ended up being so derivative.

White Lies are on Fiction Records, which is a Polydor imprint if I’m not mistaken, and I’m not sure what their views are regarding bloggers giving their tunes away, so you’ll have to be content with streamed audio for this post.  In recompense, I’ve included several tracks for your listening pleasure:

The godawful single To Lose My Life, in case you’ve been living in a hole lately and haven’t heard it yet:

Their song E. S. T.

And their source material, á la Terminator 2: Judgment Day… 

And finally some decent music to undo the damage of the last 3 tracks: Esbjörn Svensson Trio’s Goldwrap.