For our latest old chart, we turn to week beginning 18th May 1986 for the chart height of a song that defined a sport whose world championships start tomorrow and accidentally stumble across one of the oddest top tens of all:
40 Mantronix - Bassline No, not like Man 2 Man Featuring Man Parrish, that was something different. A week earlier and we'd have had Samantha Fox and the Grange Hill Cast to write about; a few sales less for this and we'd be saying a big how you're doing to We've Got A Fuzzbox And We're Gonna Use It's mighty Rules And Regulations EP. In fact, let's all listen to and watch that now.
1986, then.
39 Freddie Mercury - Time Sounds exactly like a Queen song. So what was the point of holding it back for the solo record?
38 Miami Sound Machine - Bad Boy It didn't become Gloria Estefan and Miami Sound Machine until 1988, with the Machine stopped shortly afterwards despite pretty much still being her backing band. Here they're caught in another awkward transition, between Latino and synths with big keys.
37 Real Thing - Can't Get By Without You (The Second Decade Remix) That's something they should have continued with into 1996 at least.
36 Atlantic Starr - Secret Lovers Tinkling slow jam of the sort that gave Arista a bad name throughout the decade.
35 Nu Shooz - I Can't Wait What a poor, poor name. Something of a sealed deal as far as jazz-funk goes, with the sort of break that one of those sampler keyboards was made for.
34 Rod Stewart - Love Touch 33 Big Country - Look Away 32 Dire Straits - Your Latest Trick Arena rock singles that nobody really cares about triple whammy! We could get through this much quicker if it were all like this, it's the top ten where the bulk of this week's action was.
31 The Bangles - If She Knew What She Wants As above, apart from the arena bit despite their best efforts. Hurry back, Prince/Rameses III!
30 Cashflow - Mine All Mine Workaday funk like a Netto Cameo.
29 Force MDs - Tender Love Is this Michael Jackson's fault?
28 Pete Wylie - Sinful Scouse braggard and alleged inventor of word 'rockist' attempts to make all in path shudder at the forcefulness of his convictions.
27 AC/DC - Who Made Who From the soundtrack of Maximum Overdrive, Stephen King's sole attempt at film directing. Because you kind of imagined AC/DC would record the soundtrack to a film called Maximum Overdrive directed by Stephen King sooner or later, wouldn't you?
26 Queen - A Kind Of Magic Some of you may spot there's a small handful of records in this list that were in the chart from two months earlier we commented on not one month ago. Well, there's enough not to have to repeat too much, and we're sticking to that line. So here again is Freddie in his 1920s stage magician cloak summoning up the kind of instantly dated line-and-fill cartoons that blighted the late 80s.
25 The Cure - Boys Don't Cry That's not really them in the video. Popular mopers preen.
24 Princess - I'll Keep On Loving You Second and last top 20 single from royal flush completing early SAW also-ran soulstress, a template that would be refined many times over the following eight years or so.
23 ZZ Top - Rough Boy The other video from their MTV girls and blues fantasia sequence, Eliminator (this time as a sub-Starbug space vehicle), lingering looks at legs, the lot. At least Billy, Dusty and Frank as disembodied mounted heads overshadows balladic notion.
22 Aurra - You And Me Tonight Funk bassline blogs would go mad about today dissolves into talky overshiny soul vocals that those same bloggers just seem to have forgotten about.
21 George Michael - A Different Corner It'd been number one three weeks before, and so the great Wham! schism was set with a song George wrote, played, produced, engineered, arranged, designed, built the studio by hand and carved the instruments from wood and plastic all by himself. The next time he did all that was for I Want Your Sex, and therein lies a world of extra-curricular issues.
20 Jaki Graham - Set Me Free Dance diva dance diva-ises.
19 Simply Red - Holding Back The Years An old Frantic Elevators song gets a major label budget and, at the second time of asking, sends Hucknall, still sporting hair less like that of an international jet-setter and more Alannah from the Thompson Twins, towards the sphere where he can call upon all the women and teeth he wants.
18 Marvin Gaye - I Heard It Through The Grapevine The first big hit from a Levis advert (though it actually used a soundalike), the Nick Kamen kit off in launderette business which turned the company right around by invoking the then youth cool market of imagined 1950s Americana. Nick Kamen as James Dean. It was very late 1985 onwards, a simpler time.
17 Joyce Sims - All And All You'd be surprised how far you can get as a disco/soul singer with the name Joyce.
16 Robert Palmer - Addicted To Love It was supposed to be a duet with Chaka Khan, wherever her vocals would have come; Noddy Holder calls it the perfect pop song. And yet all you know about it is the strangely robot-sex video. The women were based on the look of those in Patrick Nagel paintings, apparently. And it was the first video shown on the Chart Show (and the last, come to it). STOP EJECT
15 Janet Jackson - What Have You Done For Me Lately? Janet's first solo hit on the back of an impeccable Jam & Lewis swing production turning soul, funk and disco strands into a new thing we would all come to call R&B, here actually inventing a bass tone extensively later used on house and techno tracks.
14 Five Star - Can't Wait Another Minute Army manoevure-precise choreography from matching tracksuited siblings. They say they're making a comeback, but they say that every two or three years. And no, that didn't happen until 1989.
13 Billy Ocean - There'll Be Sad Songs (To Make You Cry) SPOILER.
12 The B-52s - Rock Lobster/Planet Claire For no apparent reason their debut album was only issued over here in '86 despite Rock Lobster being a minor hit first time around seven years earlier, and at a time the band were in seclusion after Ricky Wilson's death. For all the comedy hairpieces and Fred Schneider taking David Byrne's act and attaching it directly to the mains this is a pretty unbeatable combination of surf sci-fi absurdity. Lennon has said he was inspired to return to music by Rock Lobster, but he's credited with saying that about half the records released in 1979.
And now spot the reused bits:
11 Whitney Houston - The Greatest Love Of All Somewhat more successful and respectful than Kevin Rowland's version. Source of "children are our future" lols.
10 Madonna - Live To Tell The first real proof that Madge could do adult orientated, and the first real image makeover of her career as she got a Monroe hairdo and some proper clothes so you couldn't see her belly button.
9 Status Quo - Rollin' Home Guess what it sounds like.
8 Van Halen - Why Can't This Be Love Sammy Hagar takes over from prime irritant David Lee Roth and takes the Halen into the top ten for the second time with the sort of guitars with leopardskin straps plus arena keyboards plus shouting that Bon Jovi were on the brink of emerging to refine and ruin for us all.
7 Falco - Rock Me Amadeus Like Chumbawamba and Little Jimmy Osmond a one hit wonder who wasn't (Vienna Calling reached number ten). There was quite the Mozart revival going on at the time, with the film Amadeus not long out of cinemas. In the version of his backstory offered by the sometime Johann Hölzel - a conservatoire-trained former bassist with both hard rock and disco bands, and not a perpetually angry faux-Welshman - though, an odd future Wolfgang kills them all in polite mid to late 18th century Austrian society as a "punker" who "had flair". For the record, the last verse translated into English reads thus: "It was around 1780 and it was in Vienna/No plastic money any more, the banks against him/From which his debts came it was common knowledge/He was a women's man, women loved his punk". Much more poetic in the bitty German, isn't it?
6 Matchroom Mob With Chas And Dave - Snooker Loopy So this is why we're all here. At the time, it almost stood to reason - Cup final teams release records, so as snooker was now seen as the number one sport on television (this was during football's bleak years) why not pick up on that as a source of tie-in chart crossover potential? Barry Hearn ("he likes country and western, what chance has he got of recognising a good song?" - Hearn protege and prog fan Steve Davis) put in a call to near-local lads Chas & Dave and wondering if they wouldn't mind writing a song for the members of his Matchroom managerial stable, who virtually ran things at the time. Neither of them knew the game well but worked to the concept of "a song to be sung by the seven dwarfs", hence jaunty Cockney, baffling bits about suits and hairbrushes, Willie Thorne Sings!, all that. Tony Meo's line is "I always pipe me eyeballs", apparently because he always cried after a match. He sings this while sporting a broad grin.
There was a follow-up a year later. There's a reason why you never hear it.
5 Doctor And The Medics - Spirit In The Sky Merry prankster in kabuki whiteface attempts to restart psychedelia revival through his club night, then goes the direct route about it to surprising success, albeit just for themselves. The guitarist went on to play in Badly Drawn Boy's band, the bassist co-formed acid jazzists Corduroy and the drummer is in Die Toten Hosen. There's eclecticism.
4 Peter Gabriel - Sledgehammer Don't mind saying the video, apparently MTV's most screened ever, frightened the life out of us at the time, all that turning into clay and the essential Gabriel visage being messed about with. If you've not seen Broken Pixel's tribute for Lone Wolf from last year, please do. The song? Lots of ungainly sexual metaphors, as Gabriel was pretty much solely doing at the time.
3 Level 42 - Lessons In Love Slap bass-led jazz-funk - but popular! What a time.
2 Patti LaBelle And Michael McDonald - On My Own Earnest AOR peddlers bellow at each other long distance over some of the flattest drum sounds ever recorded. Produced by Burt Bacharach, perhaps over a couple of sandwiches in a pre-meeting rush.
1 Spitting Image - The Chicken Song Good god, how did this happen? Actually it's unlikely the latex lampooners (thank you, every newspaper TV column) knew themselves. Uncrowned genius of satirical pop parody Philip Pope on music and production, future smegverlords Rob Grant and Doug Naylor on deliberately nonsensical words, target "those two wet gits with the girly curly hair", only for the same people who bought the precision targeted post-holiday summer hits to go for this one too in large numbers. B-sides I've Never Met A Nice South African ("except for Breyten Breytenbach!"; somewhat overtaken by future events apartheid satire written by inventor of all comedy John Lloyd and eclectic composer Peter 'not the Field Music one' Brewis), Hello You Must Be Going and We're Scared Of Bob restored acidic comedic equilibrium, the 12" mix with random repetition and a locked groove ending added a certain something.
It must be weeks since Thomas White was last involved in a musical project, so now he's pitched up as bassist in a thematic band that pry on the sort of balls-out psych-garage rock his last solo album had a couple of fine examples of, and not actually ending up that far from Brakes (new album being written, we hear) either. Big dumb riffage, faux-dumb lyrical concerns and a bellyful of rock and roll drive heading straight for a ditch. It's out on the 25th.
We all hear bands who veer very towards another artist's style of music, but how acceptable is it with a view to career development really when it's a more complicated body of work they're taking on? By which we mean Brother can make themselves like Oasis and get brickbats for it because everyone can sound like Oasis, but audibly taking on something which prides itself on its tiniest detail... well, that's something more interesting and likely to be a good pointer of better things to evolve. We Are Trees' EP late last year was pretty much writing and recording songs that sound like Daniel Rossen's work for Grizzly Bear because they weren't at the time, but that it's one bloke from Virginia in his bedroom meant it could still provoke excitement of its own. That thread carries on into this new track, full of multi-tracked harmonies in an airsealed space, reverberating acoustic and ambient scene-setting washes. What's also prevalent is a certain folky open heartedness and a willigness to build around the spacious moodiness - check that wash of noise towards the end.
Somehow Fixers have landed themselves a major label deal. Perhaps Vertigo thought they're an electropop band because they have keyboards front and centre on stage. This certainly doesn't come across as radio friendly unit shifting if by any band without MGMT's early self-created populist mystique. At the start it briefly imagines it's going to be Clinic, then headlong dives right into a psychedelia stew of whirling colours, bouncy rhythms, fizzing freak-pop microclimate melodies and the same kind of west coast harmonies that's made their work to date stand a little even further out. The EP this is on, the unpromisingly titled Here Comes 2001 So Lets Head For The Sun, is out 9th May.
Damo Waters, sometime drummer for Field Music, Electric Soft Parade, Thomas White, Restlesslist, Clowns and endless others, is giving away free downloads of his entire back catalogue, including Head In The Sand, his third album only released in January. Wilfully eclectic, from orchestrated munificence to rock'n'roll and power-pop to weird semi-ambient instrumental carry-ons, we've picked out a track that Waters describes as "flipping from an obscure personal tale to a quick moan about modern record making, with a song structure that makes perfect sense as far as i'm concerned." It starts with bar-room piano, then turns into distorted guitar crunch not that far from his co-conspirator Thomas White's last album.
Here's a band that like to keep florid bloggers like ourselves on our toes. Their last single was 14 minutes long and inspired by Dr Elisabeth Kubler-Ross' theory of the Grief Cycle, and before that was an EP bound in rope that contained songs about Alan Turing and eating the contents of a wallet. This one, out today, is about "someone spending hours freezing in a car on the side of the road, making excuses rather than facing confrontation with a lover waiting alone in a restaurant", and the artwork features the names of everybody who downloaded their limited edition acoustic EP and a booklet that can be coloured in, pencils enclosed. The music? Post-Foals Afro-edged guitars and rhythms, stream of conscious lyrics that still form a story of sorts and some sort of angular alt-pop triumphant march at the end.
In an attempt not to just talk to ourselves about them all day, we've started a blog covering the BBC4 repeats of 1976 Top Of The Pops episodes (and presumably TOTP in general over time), Yes It's Number One. Go, add to your feed, whatever.
Difficult to know exactly where the Belfast trio fit in on the modern indiepop scene, not the sallow optimism of POBPAH nor the effortless janglers holding on for dear life. Spectrals' mining of the summer of love surf/beat boom is similar but Girls Names are less well defined, and while you can certainly see bits of Orange Juice, Wedding Present and Felt in them the noir-ish introspection places them just far enough apart while making it sound fresh in a not uncompetitive market. The distorted video aesthetic we saw when we first wrote about them is being maintained like one of those early J&MC clips, luckily with the lyrics on screen given the echo effect would normally give you no chance of making them out. Tough Love release their debut album Dead To Me on 25th April.
If we must have a load of folky singer-songwriters this year, much better for it to be represented by Elena Tonra than most Mumford-larynxed acoustic/uke wielders. Daughter's debut EP proper His Young Heart, released on Bandcamp on the 20th, is of a piece but subtly shifting, sweetly acidic around the physical concepts of love and hate, the idea of escape allied to wondering how she ended up like this, all rendered as honest self-discovery. The intimacy of the recording and richness of the language draws you in as long as you remember getting too close could be dangerous. The launch is at the Slaughtered Lamb in London on release date, with two Great Escape bookings and an appearance at Lounge On The Farm to come.
The Cooper Temple Clause seem to have been forgotten these days, filed away as also-rans under the reams of Strokes/Stripes press that dotted 2002-2004, but their powerhouse electronically aided art-prog-punk deserves more. Certainly more than subsequent projects (Losers, White Belt Yellow Tag, being anywhere near Dirty Pretty Things, contributing to CSS' no good second album) would suggest, which is why it's still slightly surprising that the first three tracks to emerge from guitarist Dan Fisher's solo project seem so accomplished. It's folkier than you'd expect, maintaining its nervy composure as noise and strings build up around it. That it's probably the least obviously direct and Cooper-esque of the three bodes well.
Up til now Sons & Daughters have pretty much cleaved to one modus operandi, that is chiding attack dogs of roaring rhythm and bluesy claustrophobia. On their previous album, 2008's This Gift, they decided to go pop by bringing in Bernard Butler, producer to those who think they require a little less invention in their musical lives. Maybe as a direct reaction (Scott Paterson pointedly says in the press release "we sound better when we’re more minimal"), this first taste of May's fourth long player Mirror Mirror almost does nothing at all that could qualify as a hook or melody. It's forty seconds until we get something other than a synthesized whine and a clip-clopping noise, and after that it's Scott and Adele issuing a dire warning in nothing like harmony. It sounds like a modern goth record with the middle where the guitars and foreboding synth booming noises scooped out, leaving just the ominous chanting and an outline of the evil in the darkened woods.
It's now two and a half years since we first saw Stonehaven's finest - and bear in mind that Stonehaven is the claimed birthplace of the deep fried Mars bar, which sets a tremendously low bar - on one of their innumerable support tours and three this month since we first wrote about them. Since then we've had an EP (more than two years ago), a 7" somewhere along the line, a lot of tweets and an assumed gradual subsuming into the LC!/JoFo/Larkin/Danana social group. To quote the press release: "There are no exciting stories about master tapes thrown into the sea, for example - but do feel free to quote that as "…master tapes thrown into the sea…". The band are very excited about the amount of times they may have to answer "To be honest, real life things got in the way a bit" to such a query." Finally, though, news of an album, self-titled and out on June 20th, produced by Chem19's Jamie Savage through their own Slow Learner label. Musically they were much as they ever were, a typically Scottish forceful reappropriation of Pavement's iconoclastic slackerdom with extra cocksure introspection. This is a very good thing.
Nothing to do with the former Future Of The Left bassist, Warp Records artist Bibio is the project of Stephen Wilkinson, whose last proper album Ambivalence Avenue was a surprise top 20 entry in our UK blogger albums of 2009 poll. Taken from follow-up Mind Bokeh, out this week, the track boasts instrumentation including 'Wine and Whisky Bottles filled with water', 'Brandy Glass' and 'Chinese Silk Fan (as kick drum)'. It also features the sort of funk keyboard that went out with the Commodores and a hats off to Peter Frampton talkbox, but if it is retro inspired it's a retro that's not inspiring modern musicians enough. Around it is a rhythmic sunshine pop through the giddy prism of wide open plain airiness but with intruding weirdness reminiscent of Caribou when he was still Manitoba.
Wrexham's finest (though admittedly their competition is K-Klass and Andy Scott from The Sweet) have been compared to Battles more often then they'd ever like to be reminded by smartarse bloggers, but that's what you get with cymbal-happy metronomic drummers, squelchy electronic pulses and obliquely racing Kraut guitars. Here they apply dirty great steel toe cap boots to the formula, smashing all over the first minute and a bit before racing away in the motorik on ice style to which they've become accustomed. Then it all becomes very technically complex as guitars evolve into a state of pure math before some stop-start carry-on at which everything turns into an Errors-ish digital playground. All very synthesized rigid mania, and all very exciting for their ongoing prospects. It's out on limited edition 7" in mid-April.
Not to be confused with underachieving glacial post-rockers Kyte, Kytes play the post-hardcore card with math riffage intricacy and balls-out determination and dynamism. That Sam Manville formerly of Blakfish and now of †Hymns† has been involved in its getting this far, even if just in mastering, isn't outlandish given the obvious and admitted influence, but here is a band unafraid to crash its razor-tipped walls of guitar into each other with the ferocity of a Jawbreaker or of throwing structural norms all over the place. Discordant sensibilities performed as if entirely naturalistic.
There's something of the Les Savy Fav - the offbeat post-punk rush, not quite the large bearded man half-dressed as a burlesque sailor - about Derby duo Crushing Blows, who are as comfortable holding back and slowly building as they are picking out a relentlessly intricate math-Pixies riff. While they're not as full-on as most guitar-drum duos, the throbbing waves of rhythmic pushing on and spidery expanding horizons of the guitar build layers of mesmerising intrigue. There's a whole EP downloadable for free that's all really strong.
Shibuya Crossings are from London, which should be noted as their single-minded dedication to 90s US liberal town road trip stereo college rock makes Yuck seem like the Copper Family. The ever-present Pavement are there, but dig deeper and the influence of early Weezer, Sparklehorse and Superchunk is there in the summer backing harmonies and the Big Star chime of the guitars. And what could be more awkward teenage fumbly through the youth drama prism then a song about a failed date and the sensation of thinking you're being watched by everyone else in the bar?
The Focussed Distraction is one bloke from Guildford, Jon McLeod, a guitar, some loop pedals and an effects box. With that minimal a set-up the lyrics are key, and McLeod's are wracked by loss, barely focused mounting anger and pretty much what the title implies, something aided by his straining vocal style.
Here's something that arrived in the STN inbox with little side and flair, almost apologetically wanting coverage, which of course is where the better surprises spring from. Bolton is an 18 year old singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist from Manchester claiming influence from Beck, TV On The Radio and Saul Williams. This is one of those tracks where the influence is naggingly familiar (and college American) - a little Modest Mouse or Sunset Rubdown, maybe - but not so much that it overshadows the bass-driven, organ soloing propulsion and self-questing lyrics. Keep a eye out.
That time of the month already? The 21-track, more than an hour and a half long (admittedly aided by two tracks of ten minutes plus duration) best of March in our part-indie world:
This is one of those late night smoky tracks that Mary Ann Hobbs used to play in the pre-dubstep frenzy days of the Breeze Block on Radio 1 where the atmospherics suggest laying back while the sentiment acts as a sharp pin prick to the senses. Hiatus is half-Iranian, Dorset born, Brixton resident downtempo producer Cyrus Shahrad, whose soundscapes touch on trip-hop's discombobulatingly chilled menace as much as dubstep's sub-bass. Spoken vocals come from the great Linton Kwesi Johnson, the longstanding politicised dub reggae poet, reinterpreting his own The Great Insurrection reaction to the SE5 race riots of thirty years ago marked in the video and hence its reflections in the modern protests etc etc.
You know who they are. No sooner had the social cartographers of splintered Digbeth found another revenue source in European Disco - Collected B-sides and Remixes, 2008-10, a useful filler for your collection at a fiver, then we have a proper new release. It's a frisbee.
A frisbee with music on, somehow, but still. A frisbee.
Ours always got scratched up on beaches. This had better not be an adaptable 12".
One of the most cool and weirdly fulfilling things about being in a band is hearing stories from strangers about how your music has soundtracked various important moments in their lives; how your sounds are forever intimately tied into someone else's most awesome memories; their perfect summers, legendary roadtrips, first kisses with future lovers. We're flattered by both chance and choice. It's these happy stories of synchronicity that are sure to warm our hearts long after we lose whatever skillsets we have and the bayliffs kick the door in. Certain songs tho, are forever cursed. Think of your own; perhaps by chance it spoilt an otherwise perfect moment 10 years ago and still repeatedly pops up to remind you. Maybe you selected it yourself, to frame an event that never transpired. Maybe it just pure shits on your ears, and every radio play, or advert sync, or mentions by random girls about how the way he sings is like, so sexy tho, feels like god laughing as he punches you in the face. Whatever, calm down. you'd never select it again but it's out there, public property for ever, and permanently fused to that kiss that didn't, or that night you shouldn't have, or that awful time you...
Bailiffs, Alexei. No 'y'.
The frisbee is limited to 250 from Alcopop's shop, from where the downloads are also orderable, but be warned at least half of them sold out in the first two hours of sales. This is the first track. It starts with a moment of pure machine tooled blog-R&B-ese, suggesting backup to Alexei's boast that the new material was going to divide people. After a few seconds it turns into a Johnny Foreigner song, and you know what we think of those. At the end, proving their capacity for self-reference is infinite, is a bit that sounds almost precisely like the breakdown from Yr All Just Jealous played backwards.
Have we posted the April tour dates before? Ah, sod it. Take your sacred offerings of gin and weed to these places:
18 Wakefield The Hop 19 Aberdeen Cafe Drummonds 20 Glasgow Nice'n'Sleazy 22 Nottingham Bodega 23 Preston Mad Ferret 24 Milton Keynes Sno Bar 26 Birmingham Hare & Hounds 27 Liverpool Shipping Forecast 28 Manchester Night & Day 29 Stoke Underground
Just outside Boston trio Young Adults occupy much the same space that's been keeping No Age in earplugs business these last couple of albums - lots of distortion and feedback, thumping drums, vocals recorded down a corridor, that sort of thing. A cut from an album that quietly came out in a limited run through a Czech label last year, Black Hole, what makes them stand out is the forcefulness of their enterprise, all mini-Mascis guitar noise, raggedly defined for all the wall of guitar lo-fi noise and confusion.
So whatever did become of Wakefield's poppy-scrappiest, The Research? Well, here's Sarah Williams of minimal drumkit fame, sounding a bit like like Sophie Ellis-Bextor when she was in Theaudience and teaming up with the central trio of Leeds' cult indiepop concern The Lodger to produce something that sounds like C86-inflected bubblegum strychnine, classic pop that neither demands attention nor cares what you make of their cool as long as you're willing to swoon in a way that you thought only Swedish bands could make you feel.
(EDIT: turns out they're playing their first gig at the ace sounding Long Division festival in Wakefield on 11th June. Also playing are Los Campesinos!, Napoleon IIIrd, Emmy The Great, The Wedding Present, The Lovely Eggs, The Wind-Up Birds and assorted other bands that seem to have been booked with the express purpose of getting us up there. Save us a place)
There are, as you'd expect, no end of Japanese relief fundraising ideas making the rounds, but let's highlight a couple of Bandcamp compilations that provide much musical goodness for a good cause. Audio Antihero's Bob Hope Would is pay what you like as long as it's at least £3.99 for offcuts, demos and rarities from Nosferatu D2, Meursault, Darren Hayman, The Victorian English Gentlemens Club, Paul Hawkins & The Awkward Silences, Shoes & Socks Off, Stagecoach, My First Tooth, Benjamin Shaw, Jack Hayter, Le Reno Amps and others. Proceeds are split between Japan Society, Shelterbox, Red Cross, Save The Children and The Japan Earthquake and Tsunami Relief Fund. Meanwhile Tasukete (Help) only benefits the Japanese Red Cross, but is £5 for 36 tracks encompassing Three Trapped Tigers, Gallops, Dark Dark Horse, Minnaars, Tall Ships and Bastions. Any Japan relief benefits appropriate for a STN audience that you know of, leave a comment.
Unless something spectacular turns up on the usual streams, the next week's worth of stroke-of-midnight posts will see Tracklist introduce nine artists (two a day over next weekend) we've never written about on STN before, most because they're too new to have anything to write about them before now. For starters, we pretty much know about as much as you do about The Angry Years (assuming you're not in or friends with them, obviously) - London trio, have a neat way with a song title, influence claimed from These New Puritans, Yeah Yeah Yeahs (early), QOTSA, DOOM and De Stijl (the Dutch artist movement of abstract simplification, not the White Stripes album). They come across as fairly direct and relatively simplistic too, a seemingly bassless strut leaving plenty of space for some social unease from the mixed gender dual vocalists which breaks itself down halfway through and re-emerges brandishing a flick-knife. With this and accompanying track Dress Yourself As Someone Dead it seems here is a band willing to do things at their own speed and in their own coiled snake headspace.
The Mancunian air doesn't seem quite to have done Jesca Hoop down yet, going on this cut from the Snowglobe EP released on 4th April, even as it sketches out a dark urban underbelly riddled with lonely souls gone and resident bleakness, the title apparently referring to low flying helicopters. Both fragile and sumptuous, Hoop's storytelling of a woman raising a glass to the ghosts in her house is given a sympathetic close-miked treatment, only added to - cello, subtle brass, mulitracked Jesca armies - when absolutely necessary to enhance the mood. Much as she argues against it, you're temped to ask why the subject does it to herself. LA production duo Filmatics provide the stop-motion.
Only recently discovered this despite it coming out at the end of December - well, y'know, someone should have said something earlier - but they're a band whose northern bloody-mindedness endears itself to our ultimately pointlessly angered nature. Paul Ackroyd sounds much like Paul Hawkins of Thee Awkward Silences clearly-nowhere-near-fame (unless you read and digest every word of STN), his band sound like Art Brut stripped of the guitarists' desire to be in a hair metal band instead. Set against a good circling organ sound, finding a personal brick wall in dead end job hell leading to mental disintegration has never seemed more appealing.
As with his prime influence Elvis Costello, you never quite know which Lerche is going to turn up - the power-pop maestro, the pained singer-songwriter, the jazzbo - but you know there'll be hooks, intelligence and interesting song construction whatever. This first taste from his seventh, self-titled (don't you hate it when artists not on their debut do that?) album out in June, the budget Randy Newman fading into a part-acoustic jazz-pop swing leading into a grandstanding bedroom chorus and a breakdown of fingerpicking and synthesised heartbeat. All with a little charm and a lot of style.
Busy time for Her Name Is Calla, previewing their forthcoming tour with a free sampler and a limited edition 10" EP. The lead and title track from that EP... well, it's not the HNIC you may know, even when the dramatic trombone blasts come in halfway through. It's three and a half minutes and delves into some dirty mid-west Americana insistency, a grimy overdriven guitar sound parked just above sludge level, like Sonic Youth warming up without the heroics/histrionics and if they were packed together much tighter within silt. It's not post-rock or the wracked longeurs of The Quiet Lamb, but it's not strictly cathartic noise either. It's people who, as ever, know precisely what they're doing.
This video contains flashing images
HNIC have dates all over Europe over the coming weeks, of which these are the British leg:
27/3 Leeds Left Bank 28/3 Glasgow 13th Note 29/3 Leicester Firebug 14/4 London Rhythm Factory 15/4 Brighton The Green Door Store 16/4 London Union Chapel (free midday show) 16/4 Bristol Croft 17/4 York Duchess
Well, in an unusual turn of events, the track that was posted this morning for Tracklist, one we wanted to get on the blog ASAP, has been taken down. Obviously, nobody pointed this out to us or even noticed until we had an apologetic email from Toliver's press person, which shows how popular this blog is for all the effort we put into it. For the record, here's what we wrote about Charter Magic:
Now based in London, Toliver has one of those backstories that ensures great press before anyone hears his music, discovered by Kyp Malone of TV On The Radio busking around Central Park and going on to collaborate with Grizzly Bear and Bat for Lashes as well as TVOTR before signing to mark of distinction Bella Union and Transgressive's management arm. Excellent spot, Kyp - Toliver has a classy soul voice that picks up just about anywhere on the register and makes comparisons to Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder not that far wide of the mark while explaining why Adele was calling him "my new favourite artist... I just heard of this guy about two hours ago and I'm obsessed already" a full eighteen months ago. Yet he's also responsible for the violin plucks and glissandos - look, here he is doing it live at last year's Great Escape - that take it into the Owen Pallett territory where soulful pop melody meets baroque neo-classical arrangement, with extra gospel tuition. This astounding piece is the first fruit from the Butterflies Are Not Free EP, released April 25th.
That's what this isn't, but it is what he is. In its stead, here's a demo of White Sails and a video of him doing it on Jools last November.
Chee Hung, it says here. Having kept busy contributing to Banjo Or Freakout's album and making skew-whiff sunbleached Hollies covers, it's time to give the drummer some, a project from a Bloc Party member that isn't in hock to late 80s club beats. No, possibly set for a split single with Wet Paint some time, oh, whenever (eBay's friend Record Store Day, possibly), is in hock to early 90s shoegaze noise, sprawling Isn't Anything guitars and windtunnel vocals a speciality. Sounds a touch like a McCarthy influence underneath to us too.
Gothenburg's all girl fantastia Liechtenstein have always been fairly hit and miss, but you rarely fail to hit with as simple yet awkward a stew as handclap percussion, spy theme guitar, Motown bass and a naggingly familiar melody. There's a certain disjointed while still comfortably on the same page Falling And Laughing (as in Orange Juice song, not band or Kidnapper Bell song recently featured here - oh, this crossreferencing is getting too complicated) air to it, very Swedish indiepop in its clipped Girls At Our Best!/Marine Girls/Delta 5 fem-indiepop joy.
Uber-propulsive instrumental post-rock that isn't really post-rock because it lacks in longeurs what it makes up for in pounding, stratospheric intricate guitar riffs? If Explosions In The Sky didn't invent this shit they were first to leg it down the patent office. Trembling Hands is almost commercial by their standards, letting go and folding itself into endless MC Escher chord guides over Squiddly Diddly drums as usual but within three and a half minutes and with some subtle additions - the O Superman vocal sample loop and the gleeful headrush in the middle, to name two. Don't worry, they still eat most quiet-loud dynamic riders for breakfast.
As with Kriss Kross from Red, it should be warned that this first taste isn't at all indicative of the general sound of Guillemots' forthcoming third album Walk The River, which trades in the kind of wroughtly inclusive adult balladry that last album manoevured the band into, albeit without so many George Michael moments. The Basket opens with a fuzzy riff which subsides into the kind of rush associated with film stock of young American women leaning out of the window of big cars rocketing down straight desert roads. From there, think We're Here being attacked by analogue keyboards.
Our first old chart rundown in a while is taken from w/b 23rd March 1986, the emergence into popular culture of Comic Relief, the 2011 running of which is unfolding as we type. Yeah, we considered The Stonk just so we could point out The Mary Whitehouse Experience's out of place cameo, and we resolved to go nowhere near Love Can Build A Bridge or any of the witless recent ones, but we had to go to the primary material.
Firstly, let's skip over Made In England And Ray Dorset, Psychic TV And The Angels Of Light and, remarkably, Half Man Half Biscuit's Trumpton Riots in the 92-99 region and glance at the top 75 debut weeks of two colossi of female singing, Janet Jackson's What Have You Done For Me Lately? at 52 and of course Sinitta, now only ever the surely disappointing to Simon's choices regular X Factor mentor. So Macho was the first charting single on Cowell's Fanfare Records and in fact pretty much the only success the label ever had bar Yell!'s all too literal moment in the sun.
40 Bronski Beat - C'mon! C'mon! The post-Somerville version with one John Foster singing. You'll know Bronski v2.0 for Hit That Perfect Beat, which is fortunate.
39 The Pogues - Poguetry In Motion EP Very much a Dave Robinson title, that. London-Irish pathos abound on an EP featuring, none as lead track, Pogues standard Rainy Night In Soho, The Wire favourite The Body Of An American and instrumental Planxty Noel Hill, the title a reference to the nominative trad Irish musician who'd described the Pogues as a "terrible abortion".
38 Survivor - Burning Heart Nothing says 'late night ITV advertised hard rock compilation, mail or phone order only' more.
37 Mike And The Mechanics - Silent Running (On Dangerous Ground) MOR titans of studio sheen's debut single, actually from a film called On Dangerous Ground (Choke Canyon in the US), featuring nobody you've ever heard of and about nothing of explicable interest.
36 Paul Hardcastle - Don't Waste My Time Fairlight soul before the post-Whitney glut, featuring vocals by Carol Kenyon off Heaven 17's Temptation. One of the three most famous things about Yorkshire, apparently.
35 Viola Wills - Dare To Dream/Both Sides Now Oddly named disco-soul mid-ranker whose official biography claims her three singles "would land Viola in the Guiness Book of Records for the UK." Well, we're not going to dissuade her from the notion, and not just because she's dead.
34 Big Audio Dynamite - E=MC2 Nic Roeg tribute stew staring Mick Jones, winging it Don Letts and three people who went on to form Dreadzone. Have reformed, like everyone.
33 Tippa Irie - Hello Darling Reggae tribute to Ed Stewart. Perhaps.
32 Electric Light Orchestra - Calling America More synths! Even more synths! Well, Jeff Lynne was never someone keen on the concept of subtle minimalism, although getting rid of the actual orchestral bit - ELO were a trio at this point - surely devalues the currency.
31 Whitney Houston - How Will I Know Second hit and the first where she really opens the pipes on those vocal chords. Very much in the Pointer Sisters idiom.
30 New Order - Shellshock Is it sacrilege that, despite the ageing nature of some of those keyboard settings (synth trumpets!) we prefer this in New Order Go Detroit terms to all the Arthur Baker stuff?
29 Tavares - Heaven Must Be Missing An Angel The Tavares brothers, in fact, whose nicknames - Ralph, Pooch, Chubby, Butch and Tiny - all make them sound like cartoon dogs.
28 Alexander O'Neal - If You Were Here Tonight The sort of entry you don't need to hear to know exactly how it sounds.
27 Falco - Rock Me Amadeus I love legitimate theatre.
26 Freddie Jackson - Rock Me Tonight (For Old Time's Sake) See 28, but with gated snares.
25 Stevie Wonder - Overjoyed Like an anti-McCartney, Wonder's prime age is starting to come back into its own these days when weighed against the big hit 80s schlock that affected his public standing for ages. Actually this one's quite good, largely because it turns out to have been written in the late 70s, and features ear catching "environmental percussion" - crickets, birds, water, that sort of Hexstatic-precursing thing.
24 Atlantic Starr - Secret Lovers At least he didn't fall victim to the Linn drum soul treatment too.
23 Billy Ocean - When The Going Gets Tough (The Tough Get Going) A future Comic Relief single itself, of course, with Adam & Joe in the video, not that they mention it much now for some reason.
22 Frank Sinatra - Theme From New York, New York Only six years old at this point, originally written for Liza Minelli, and yet by the mid to late 90s it was already established as the only way to end a wedding reception disco. Sinatra recorded it for his concept album Trilogy: Past Present Future, one disc of standards, one of pop hits, one a freeform six track, nearly 40 minutes long experimental suite containing tracks called What Time Does The Next Miracle Leave? and World War None! This is old stager Chairman Of The Board Frank Sinatra, remember.
21 Hipsway - The Honeythief Sole top 40 single for poor man's Blow Monkeys, what Johnny McElhone did between Altered Images and Texas. Our brother had the lyric page from Smash Hits for this sellotaped up in his bedroom.
20 Howard Jones - No One Is To Blame Peter Powell reckoned Jones would be "one of the big new names to emerge in 1984", odd wording given he'd had two top three singles in 1983. By 1986 it was all over, this his last top 20 single.
19 Pet Shop Boys - Love Comes Quickly Whatever can Neil mean?
18 Huey Lewis And The News - Power Of Love/Do You Believe In Love If the former seems out of place, that's because it is - it'd reached number 10 in October 1985 but reared back up the charts and settled at 9 in March. No idea why. Video release wasn't that quick, was it?
17 Sigue Sigue Sputnik - Love Missile F1-11 "Hi-tech sex, designer violence, and the fifth generation of rock 'n' roll". Or, as everyone not Tony James called them, silly hair and sampledelic electropunk nobody needed, and now nothing is more 1986. Still, this had a vim with its Chuck Berry riffs, and the TOTP appearance with the explosions and flagrant disregard for mic technique or how wrong vocals with loads of echo come across is quite somethin. The director's trying, bless him. Whatever happened to Magenta Devine?
16 Queen - A Kind Of Magic Look, no 'It's'. Freddie in big cloak summons backing singers in neon colours.
15 Whistle - (Nothing Serious) Just Buggin' We know nothing else about them apart from what's on Wikipedia, which claims they were Jazzy Jazz (self-explanatory, surely?), Kool Doobie and DJ Silver Spinner. But yeah, how great in the annals of stupid early crossover rap is this? Includes one of those voice sampling keyboards. Heavily.
14 The Rolling Stones - Harlem Shuffle Bob & Earl's original none more going to a go-go R&B groove (with opening horns sampled on Jump Around) ridden over by a coach and horses by men in pastel colours.
13 Blow Monkeys - Digging Your Scene The quality side of 80s Brit jazz-soul - that is, 'not Matt Bianco' - Thatcher-baiting floppy quiffed emoter Dr Robert says this is about the initial spread of AIDS amid the gay clubbing community. Future Radio 1 nondescription merchant Dixie Peach on backing vocals, it says here.
12 Art Of Noise Featuring Duane Eddy - Peter Gunn Even Paul Morley would have had trouble writing up the manifesto for this one.
11 Mr Mister - Kyrie Now clap above your heads! Classic drivetime man-in-wide-suit-playing-keyboards-on-either-side AOR with a liturgical bent.
10 Culture Club - Move Away Junkie George was still three months away from having eight weeks to live, but something was definitely slipping away already, this the band's last top 10 single except for a reformation semi-fluke in 1998. With that all in mind it's no wonder the big single from their new album From Luxury To Heartache (yeah, we see) was basically Fairlight-friendly anaemia.
9 Prince - Kiss Fuck you, Jones, you've never half understood why this was so stunning at the time, and to an extent still is.
8 The Bangles - Manic Monday Prince on writing credits here too, although in Greenwich Village summer pop mode. Rebecca Black missed out Idon'thavetorunday.
7 Jim Diamond - Hi Ho Silver The synth horn stab favouring theme to Boon, the series that claimed Michael Elphick as a private investigator and gave Neil Morrissey a career.
6 The Real Thing - You To Me Are Everything (The Decade Remix 76/86) You wouldn't associate it with the type of globe straddling hit that needed a tenth anniversary revival, but such is wine bar soul.
5 Sam Cooke - Wonderful World It was on an advert.
4 Samantha Fox - Touch Me (I Want Your Body) Easy to forget how famous Page 3 made Sam, particularly at a time when legions of glamour models appear in first name terms only on a whole shelf of weeklies and monthlies and outside that little ecosystem have no name recognition at all. Anything could have made her a chart star first time out as long as City boys on Friday nights out could dance to it and it contained lyrical allusions to sex, and that's pretty much the case. "Like a tramp in the night I was begging for you to treat my body like you wanted to"? The East End homeless must be more forward than in most places.
3 David Bowie - Absolute Beginners The theme from a hopeless box office flop, doing so badly it brought down the company that put out Chariots Of Fire and Gandhi less than five years earlier. Well, that's what happens if you make it a Patsy Kensit star vehicle. A minor rejuvenation after a poor few years musically for Bowie, though, not to mention his getting to arse about on a big typewriter, and both Rick Wakeman and Steve Nieve on keyboards.
2 Diana Ross - Chain Reaction Gibb provided, Steps bastardised monochrome Motown nostalgia that seemed to be around the top end of the charts forever. Phil King, bassist from Lush and at some point the Jesus & Mary Chain, is supposedly in the video. Now used to sell insurance comparison, if you can sell the concept of comparison.
1 Cliff Richard And The Young Ones - Living Doll Pop music, let's go! Comic Relief was officially launched on Christmas Day 1985 but this was its first physical sortie, three years before the first telethon, and some argue the first sign that 'alternative comedy', as only Jim Bowen still calls it, was usurping the traditional state. Inspired by Rick's adoration of the man, of course, and Cliff's first team-up with Hank Marvin in more than a decade, though when they did it live at that year's first Comic Relief night Cliff refused permission for it to be included on the following VHS. The studio and video versions are different, which got us at the time (the "which instruments do you want us to break?" bit is fleshed out). The B-side, (All The Little Flowers Are) Happy, is quite something for the time, though Ade Edmondson in full Vyvyan flight is difficult on the unsuspecting.
Oupa is the solo project of Daniel Blumberg, formerly trading in this form as Yu(c)k, so presumably now his band are taking off he wanted a proper name for his airy, fragile piano outings to properly differentiate when he's not being all slacker. This first outing from June's mini-album of the same name suggests Blumberg has spent good time with the Perfume Genius album, all slightly detuned piano and meaningful falsetto, but at least he proves he has the vocal chops, heading around and about his range. It may be moot how much actual pain there is in it, but the reflective heartbreak leaps off the page/waveform.
Polly, Siouxsie, this is the world you've created. Seductive to the point of entrapment, slithering like something can't be suppressed, the two London sisters who are 2:54 are not to be messed about. Coming on at first like Curve without the electronics it could equally come from shoegaze and gothic revivals, quite the win double these days we're told, this debut single proper, out on something called House Anxiety on the 28th, settles as much as anything like this does settle into an unsettled creep around in the dark shadows of post-grunge. The menacing growl of the bassline, and the guitar, and the vocals, and the central line "I will find you", don't exactly make things sweetness and light all round, but it'd suit a decent smoke machine and a comfortably agitated state of mind.
Sarandon might be the last of the truly wayward agit-noise-indie bands, collapsible DIY spiritual flame holders from mid-80s antiheroes Bogshed, the Membranes and bIG fLAME, one of the latter's original number now being in this band. They've recorded with the June Brides' Phil Wilson and their last album was called Kill Twee Pop! (exclamation mark a necessity, one feels) Their new album is called Sarandon's Age Of Reason, co-issued by Odd Box and US indiepop giant Slumberland (POBPAH, Crystal Stilts), and is a concept album about the titular Big Trev which features guest appearances by the Nightingales' Robert Lloyd and bedroom cassette label legend The Shend. A cask and bottled beer has been brewed in its honour. The advance taster? Scratchy razorwire guitars, pothole strewn rhythms, something approximating the right notes, all good things.
The song that grows and grows from understated beginnings into a roar of the masses is a favourite trick of the ambitious, but it seems much more impressive if, as Guy Connolly does on this mighty new single out 9th May via Moshi Moshi's Singles Club, it doesn't go over the red limiter as much as gain depth, layers and texture. Clock Opera's 'chop-pop' is here put to use on something that begins life as a plaintive piano ballad and steadily adds shimmering, tinkling and glimmers of full orchestral score. Then, round about three minutes in, the drums break for the border and the melody and cut-up samples build and push against the wall before crashing through into something to emotively raise the roof without ever losing the thread. Stunning stuff.
In what seems like a match made in singular solo performer/independent label combination heaven, Otley's oddest, a man who has supposedly spent some time recently living in North Korea, is finally releasing the much promised album Outbreeding on 23rd May having signed to Brainlove Records (his signature being a great looping recursive squiggle, shortly before he got up on the table and started interfering with the light socket) We've had a listen and the emotive quality of Broughton's we-still-think-he-sounds-like-Jake Thackray-even-if-nobody-else-does baritone against the raw pathos-laden imagery and darkly humorous offbeat moments, drones and loops driving a gleeful coach and horses through sometimes even upbeat acoustic pop-folk balladry, shines through perhaps better, certainly more directly approachable, than he's managed on record before. This is his most flagrantly poppish moment, even with the accordion in the mix and the lyric "I felt like one of those mental bastards - I lost my shoe". No, actually, especially with those.
Those of you hoping Steven Adams' new project might be a slight return to the caustic country of the best Broken Family Band moments, hard luck. Singing Adams is a more traditional rock'n'roll enterprise but not in the grease/leathers/lo-fi meaning of the term so prevalent today at all. The guitars shimmer, the pivot is poised, the mood is emotional. There are castanets. The subliminal optimism against the darker thoughts of the narrator puts it somewhere near New Pornographers territory of classic AM radio pop that they'd never playlist on AM radio, breathing life into the case study. The album Everyone Friends Now is out on 4th April.
One day the world will rise up against fuzzy lo-fi beat boom-recalling guitar bands. Not just yet, though, as Belfast trio Girls Names are doing it particularly well. Reportedly one of the highlights of London Popfest at the end of February, and with appropriate supports for Calvin Johnson and Wavves under their belts, they have an album out on Slumberland at the end of April and no end of Orange Juice/Felt scratchy guitars, repurposed surf rock riffs, ghostly reverb over most things and upbeat jangle around less positive words. The video is directed by Paddy Power - no, the one who oversaw the repurposed Summer Camp clips - and is quite, quite disturbing.
Ah, ver TVEGC. Cardiff's most abtruse trio have promised May's third album Bag Of Meat will be heavier, darker and more industrial, citing Wire's 154, Liars, Grinderman, PiL's Flowers Of Romance, Godflesh and, um, Paul Daniels (well, there is a track called Card Trick With A Chimp) as influences and claiming songs about "Africa, pissing in the snow, car crashes and cutting off heads." This is regards the latter, a conversation pre-execution that sounds like it's been ripped from the power supply of the haunted fairground as an articulated lorry hurtles out of control through the rusty gates, guitar and mandolin heavily treated, never quite being able to ascertain 100% which one is Adam and which Louise of the vocals. Plus, stylophone outro.
This has been around for a while - first came out last April, in fact - but it's just been added to 6 Music's playlist so presumably it's getting a renewed single push ahead of the new version of album Boots Met My Face release at the end of the month. More to the point it's the sort of young people with folk and delusions of storming the barn dance that the majors will be all over this year but will usually end up applying the sledgehammer to the banjo nut (evening, Dry The River). Glaswegian six-piece Admiral Fallow have the kind of all in it together interplay the best acoustic-led parties thrive on and that made you like Mumford & Sons at first YES YOU DID but with the sort of rough hewn, loosely pessimistic storytelling their former tour partners Frightened Rabbit would recognise. Plus a clarinet solo.
Tracklist is now backed up for three weeks, but artists will keep releasing things. Okkervil River, for instance, have a new album, I Am Very Far (a sentence which we can never not hear in Vic Reeves' voice), out on May 9th/10th, and for the cost of some band-appropriate spam you can immediately hear Wake And Be Fine. It's in waltz time.
You know Let England Shake is great, obviously, but The Glorious Land as a single? There's your standalone mixed message. And here's her video, directed by Seamus Murphy in Dorset around October.
Now, the following may take some reading and not a little willingness to go with it.
Dr Martin Austwick has been across the STN radar before with his fine The Sound Of The Ladies project. He also has a PhD in physics from Oxford, and in these post-Brian Cox days pop science is Britain's biggest growth area. So we come to Austwick's Songs From The Scientific Cabaret, released tomorrow to coincide with the start of Geek Pop, a free online music festival featuring a good range of input from artists inspired by science. The launch is also tomorrow at Wilton's Music Hall, Graces Alley, London, and all that is followed on Friday by the mini-album Geek Like Me, which also includes a collaboration between sometime STN contributors MJ Hibbett and Vom Vorton.
That Norway's The Megaphonic Thrift take their cues from Sonic Youth isn't exactly hidden, especially not if you see them live where the singer even does Thurston's divebombing guitar move thing. Still, they're a tricky band to take off and get right, and even if the detail goes right down to the mid-section quieter breakdown and catastrophic climax the serrated guitar sound, metronomically pounding drums and squalls of feedback and pedal noise are properly enthralling.
You might have seen this on our Twitter to a good reception over the weekend but it's far too good not to share with a permanent audience. Well Wisher are from Manchester and sound like both Johnny Foreigner - it's all in the yelp - and all those Chicago bands (apart from Wilco) Alexei always goes on about, chiefly involving the Kinsella family. Spidery guitars, collapsible rhythms, strident vocals with emotive self-regard. This is on a split 7" with Polina, of whom we know nothing, on A Mountain Far/L’Oeil Du Tigre soon. You don't need many words, just the song's pure wracked corkscrew excellence.
The first new missive from Jonathan Clancy this year is the closest his solo project has got to his triumph of the collective will A Classic Education. Drenched in warm vibes, slowly seeping into a circular stew of Shins melody and mesmerising layers of blissfulness, it redirects the halting, slightly off-tuning dreampop co-ordinates of his previous work under this nametowards chiming East Coast expansiveness, wooziness deeply embedded. This is on a limited edition 7" out in April on Sixteen Tambourines Records, available for preorder
Accelerating across the poposphere - is there such a word? There is now - "car crash Blondie drunk on Lambrini" (band's own description) Pris are the natural successors to the lineage of Dolly Mixture, Transvision Vamp and Shampoo through to the Chalets and early Long Blondes of big ol' trashy leopardskin print, bubblegum, spunk (no, not that definition, the metaphorical one) and secretly crying in the fizzbomb pop rain over girl group compilations and Debbie Harry posters. Of course, unlike those bands, the self described, and the caps lock is important here, "HORMONAL GUTTER POP/POST-PUNK" kids have a direct outlet for their wind-up quoteability, but otherwise everything is as it should be right down to lyrical references to make-up, Manics support, Everett True salivation and there being four of them but the drummer's male so he doesn't appear in the publicity shots. So yeah, a Tens Kenickie, and while we always argue that band were far smarter and emotionally complex then they'd ever let on to Select magazine journalists we can't pretend there wouldn't be a hefty overlap and the suspicion that underneath a Facebook influences list that shouts "SHORT SKIRTS & HOTPANTS", "HATE", "FANZINES", "KNEE HIGH BOOTS", "MADONNA WHEN SHE WAS YOUNG", "BRET EASTON ELLIS" and a Bukowski quote is much, much more waiting to be unlocked.
James Wallace, who is Wintercoats, understands that given the sonic space of the recording studio it's imperative to find the difference between filling every last track on the console/screen and doing something with the smallest details. Beginning as a glacial lament, it's the bits that emerge in between - glockenspiel melodies, marching drums, looped calls in the distance - that make the song as much as the burbling below and the airy multitracked vocal above, eventually finding its epilogue in piano and the peace of the morning light. As well as this track there's a Wintercoats EP for free download, Cathedral.
It was always going to take a special band to become the first to clock up two Tracklist appearances, and in their own jangly kitchen sink rom-dram way Standard Fare are that band, landing the honour with a between albums single out on Monday. Like any good indiepop band it's clearly time to break out the Motown bassline over the rousing, Field Mice-like forceful set to summer guitar line, while Emma Kupa's little girl lost in her conflicted thoughts vocal seems to be preoccupied with preparation for nuclear fallout. Presumably it's a metaphor. Also, guitar solo mini-heroics. See them tonight at the Lexington or next week in Cambridge, Nottingham and Leicester - check local press.
Like Veronica Falls, Golden Grrrls have come here from Glasgow bearing the kind of directionless, fuzzy indiepop with distortion to go that would once have been called 'shambling' and still drives many a strong man into thoughts of seppuku. But, y'know, fuck them. Golden Grrrls have guitars that reverberate, harmonies that aren't, male/female duelling vocals in the best Vaselines traditions and a glorious rush of energy flash, noise and near enough confusion. We don't know offhand if this is a double A side with or the B-side of Beaches, either way being out on 7" this week, but it's our preferred track.
Certain bands, as we're sure regular readers are long aware, merely have to cough and we offer them life insurance. Johnny Foreigner, presumably partly still due to that shortfall in US tour support, have released There When You Need It, seven tracks issued in dribs and drabs over 2010, including two remixes and a Christmas song (in March!), plus a tour to work up the material for the third album proper - dates after the embed. The one purely fresh song, debuted in stripped down form for GoldFlakePaint last year, is a jaunty acoustic plus bits of Junior's electronics kit work, referencing companionship in the dead of winter, containing peculiar poetry ("from the outside looking in, the glow of the TV and the frosted glass and a shiver that won't last") and references to being in Birmingham, as per. It sounds a bit like Lou Barlow and a bit like acoustic LC! and is, of course, splendid.
Dates!
7/3 Birmingham Custard Factory (some sort of free show sponsored by Topman and headlined by Frankie & the Heartstrings - text CTRL5 to 83338 for admission, or something) 2-3/4 Edinburgh Haddowfest (some sort of Edinburgh city-wide thing headlined by Razorlight. This isn't the most promising of starts, is it? Don't worry, the rest are all part of a proper tour) 19/4 Aberdeen Cafe Drummonds 20/4 Glasgow Nice n Sleazy 22/4 Nottingham Bodega 23/4 Preston Mad Ferret 24/4 Milton Keynes Sno Bar 26/4 Birmingham Hare and Hounds 27/4 Liverpool Shipping Forecast 28/4 Manchester Night and Day 29/4 Stoke Underground 30/4 Wimbledon Grove Tavern 1/5 London Camden Crawl
We now fully expect to be emailed in the next few days by someone asking if we could publicise the Johnny Foreigner tour dates.
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
The second monthly STN playlist is now published, the best of February (plus obligatory retrospective-topical closer) taking up 14 tracks and 48 minutes.
This is officially the quadrillionth album of David Tattersall songs to have been released in the last five years, so well done to him on that achievement. More than that, it's their third for Moshi Moshi and following 'the electric properly studio recorded one' and 'the acoustic recorded in downtime while David was writing songs for someone else one' comes 'the one musically somewhere in the middle recorded in Darren Hayman's kitchen'. Because it was, all in one day/take and often sounding like they were all hanging on to each other making it up on the spot. Beer In The Breakers is out on April 18th. This first offering kind of sounds like a louche over-read indie trio, because that's what they are all the time, and seems quite dark against the relatively jaunty and almost jangly backing. Don't worry, Tattersall still finds room for some twiddly guitar heroics at the end.