I'll make no apologies. I've loved the Veils since I first heard 'More Heat Than Light' what seems like an eternity ago. Sounding like a cross between the Smiths and Nick Cave overdosing on melancholy they seemed to have the brightest of futures. Then, they started working with my favourite musician of all time - Bernard Butler. Expectations were exceedingly high. Having finally received the album could it live up to the (not insubstantial) promise?
Hmmm... Partly due to Butler's influence the almost ethereal minimalism created by the original production team is absent from half the tracks. This makes the album a somewhat non-cohesive with the two sets of tracks fighting to control its overall feel. In places this works well, but on the whole the band's sound and Finn Andrews' haunting vocals seem to be better fitted to the intensity of Matthew Olliver's production. Due to this I would have been interested to hear the results had he been allowed to produce it all.
As if to contradict this though, the best track on the album is Butler's 'Guiding Light', with its summery feel it could have been lifted straight from a McAlmont and Butler album. However, all the other standout tracks are Olliver's. 'The Leavers Dance' remains one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard, and the grandiose, sweeping orchestration of 'Lavinia' could melt the hardest heart.
Because of my enormous preconceptions it's difficult to decide how good this album is. I expected better, but then no matter what had been put before me I think that would have been the case. It's definitely worth buying, but as for its overall quality I guess you'll have to make your own mind up...
Review by Tommy L
To be honest, by halfway through track 3 of this album I had Sophia (alterego of Robin Proper-Shepherd & his loose collection of collaborators) pegged as another of the grey tide of blandly sensitive and inoffensive indie bands who write 'proper' songs whose sole function on this planet is to be placed proudly on your parents coffee table, allowing them to show that they understand modern music whilst safely sounding exactly the same as everything they've listened to since they turned 30 (You know who you are: Stereophonics, Coldplay, and most closely here, Delays and Remy Zero).
But on track 5, 'Darkness (Another Shade In Your Black)', a Hulk like transformation takes place, injecting some life into the previously sedate proceedings, and hurtling this album towards the left field. Blasts of distorted guitar are deployed with lazer accuracy, a Beck like groove is formed, and Robin starts singing like a hybrid of Mark Linkous and Modest Mouse. And from then on it's lo-fi, alt country, anti-folk thrills all the way; half the tracks here (particularly the runaway fuzz of 'If A Change Is Gonna Come') could be taken from Sparklehorse's wonderful 'Good Morning Spider'. Half the tracks here could inspire every young heart and mind it comes into contact with to pick up a guitar and howl their troubles away with a shriek of feedback. Half the tracks here are the reason I love doing this site so much. So why the hell is the other half so fucking dreary? Sophia could well turn out to be one my new favourite bands, they've certainly got all the right attributes, but before they get there, they've got to take a long hard think about what they want to be. Fingers crossed they choose the right path.
Electrelane's debut 'Rock It To The Moon', despite the title, was a masterclass in instrumental dynamics and subtlety, which gently, then harshly, then gently again, rocked my world in a very major way. And thus it was that I approached their new Albini produced opus hoping for more of the same, and lots of it. What I got was a rather contrary, but similarly pleasurable experience.
You get the feeling that the band sat down prior to this meeting, listened to 'Rock It..' and said in true Monty Python style, "And now for something completely different." And so it is that we get shuffling lo-fi, fashionably jerky new/no-wave, and a kind of globe hopping magpie-ism that leaves you with few clues as to where this album could possible have originated from.
Take track 3, 'The Valleys' - a gentle keyboard wave, and some muted drums (the gentle pulsing of which give the album it's heart and sole thread of consistency), then all of a sudden you find yourself stuck in a Welsh mining town surrounded by a full vocal choir, belting out a refrain, "I heard it from the valleys, I heard it singing in the mountains, ahAHahAhaahaaaaaah", that I can't decide whether it's supposed to sound forlorn or celebratory. It is completely unexpected, and perhaps more than a little bonkers, but in a poignant and moving way.
Elsewhere, we are transported further around the globe, with extracts from Spanish sonnets and German philosophy, and lyrics sung in French. Pretentious? Moi? Most certainly, and I love it.
Listening to Blonde Redhead has always been an uprooting experience, this a band with the ability to transport you to different worlds, filled with equal doses of fear and wonder, a band who will always provoke a reaction, whether it be of undying love and unswerving devotion, or one of 'what the fuck is that?' or 'Aargh! My ears!!' Personally, I've tended to flit from one to the other with each release, but their 2000 album 'Melody of Certain Damaged Lemons' remains one of my favourite albums.
But that's enough about the past, what about this new release? 'Misery is a Butterfly' is without a doubt the most coherent and accessible Blonde Redhead album to date, the jagged and often disorientatingly schizophrenic peaks and troughs of previous efforts being replaced with a greater consistency of sound, and the harsh stabs and random time signatures replaced with a mellower, more atmospheric sound based around lilting guitars and melodic piano. Fortunately though, Blonde Redhead have not completely dispensed with the unsettling weirdness of previous releases, with 'Maddening Crowd' and the bizarre horse metaphors and jerky chorus of 'Equus' in particular would not feel out of place alongside their earlier work. Vocalists Amadeo Pace & Kazu Makino still have two of the most unique voices around, and there is an overwhelming sense of eeriness that forms throughout.
It's not, perhaps the greatest work of their distinguished career at the forefront of experimental art rock, but for the uninitiated, it's as good a place to start as any, and for those already familiar with the band, another respectable and fresh chapter to Blonde Redhead's great legacy.
So, the burning question then - can Franz Ferdinand's debut album live up to the immense hype that has surrounded them since the release and subsequent top 5 placing of their earth shatteringly brilliant single 'Take Me Out'?
Of course it bloody well can't. To come close to what people are expecting from this album, they would have to have the combined musical abilities and songwriting powers of Kurt Cobain, Jimmi Hendrix, Radiohead and The Beatles (and some people still wouldn't be satisfied). But while 'Take Me Out' is the undoubtable highlight of this album (as it would be on pretty much any album released over the past 12 months), there is enough quality in the rest of the material to suggest that it would stand up even without its great hit.
Most songs follow a similar pattern - the slow, quiet build up of metronomic, pulsing rhythm before launching into a jerky mechanical riff, with Alexander Kapranos' distinctive vocal keeping things steady, and guitar and keys adding a few disco frills to proceedings. Where it works (debut single 'Darts of Pleasure', the sensational 'Matinee') it's a truly thrilling experience - taking UK indie back to the dancefloor it's been neglecting ever since Pulp's 'Disco 2000' stopped being topical (e.g. January 1st 2001), and suggests that they might outlive the one hit wonder tag. And on the few occasions when it doesn't work, it's no worse than the rest of the disco punk pack.
At times it feels so complete that you have to keep reminding yourself that this is only their first album; just prey that the band are strong enough to come through their current chart exploits without imploding, because they could go on to something very special indeed.
This compilation CD of deep house and mellow laid back tunes has been out since November 2003 but only just found its way into my CD player and then its fat or should that be phat dub bass grooves out of the speakers. Featuring 12 tracks of very high quality material like Ladyblue And The Heartfinders with Crazy Love, my personal favourite Yamaharmonia from the 'Lectric Ladies and Heavy Deviance's Eastern Lights, which was also a quite successful single, this is one of the best 'dance' albums I have heard for a while.
All the tracks have a similar smooth feel and full production apart from the last track which is the Bent Remix of the classic Hall & Oates track I Can't Go For That (No Can Do) which does stand out as sounding very different to the other songs and much more chart friendly.
If you like your dance music a little less frantic than the norm and a lot deeper sounding with plenty of bass and touches of funk and experimentation then this album is well worth a listen.
One thing to note is that the label this compilation is released on, Mint Source, believes in splitting any profits equally between the label and its artists and also does not believe in forcing anyone into long term contracts and is possible because of this one of the last 'real' independant labels. Mint Source also run club nights and their website makes interestiing reading at www.mint-source.com with their attitude to music and business and maybe shows the way the record industry should go to support underground or new acts.
Review by Darren Bunting
Hmm, lengthy band name, equally lengthy and slightly pretentious titles, an alum that lasts three quarters of an hour but only features five songs, yep, must be an instrumental post-rock band. To be honest, this kind of thing isn't usually my cup of tea - I never got into Mogwai or Godspeed You Black Emperor, and I always preferred Sonic Youth's Geffen output to their SYR recordings. Maybe it's a human connection thing - needing to hear a voice to really feel what it's all about, I don't know.
What I do know, however, is that while this album is unlikely to change my mind on the vocals vs instrumentals debate, it does feature some beautiful moments of fragile guitar incandescence. The whole album is studiously constructed in every element, with the sparse use of percussion serving to heighten its impact, and the interweaving of guitar lines creating a sound much greater than its component parts.
Listen to this album in a dark room with your eyes closed and let its waves lap at your mind. It's a rewarding experience.