While the last few years in music have been dominated by four piece garage bands of varying quality, 2002 saw the arrival of a group that couldn't have been more removed from the notion of four skinny guys knocking out half arsed Stooges rip-offs. The Polyphonic Spree were 25 robe clad Texan's bouncing away to wonderfully psychedelic choral pop, and with their ambitious sound and flagrant disregard for prevailing fashion, the difference in style and content between the Spree and their ripped denim and four chord worshipping peers was laid bare. Two years on, and not much has changed- guitar bands still dominate, although this time it's the arse end of the garage trend- uninspired, dull-as-dishwater rip offs like the Killers and Razorlight gatecrash the chart with a monotonous regularity. What's needed now more than ever is a band with ambition and originality, that offer something more than just a soundtrack for the repulsive Queens of Noize to fall over to on a Friday night, and right now the Spree are the band that fit the bill more than any other.
However, the story of the inception of Together We're Heavy is far from a victory strewn epic. Somewhere along the line their old label got cold feet and cruelly dropped them after realising that touring a 25 piece band around the toilet circuit was not really that profitable. On top of this, even their eternally enthusiastic figurehead Tim Delaughter has since dismissed their first album (The Beginning Stages of.) as being nothing more than a collection of unfinished demos and therefore not a true representation of the band he loves. Though this claim may seem slightly modest when comparing that record to any other of 2002's releases, anyone who's witnessed the Polyphonic Spree's heroically over the top live show would be inclined to agree.
With their new album though, any such doubts of Delaughter's band being undersold in any way are dashed the second you hear the first track from Together We're Heavy. To call 'A Long Day Continues/We Sound Amazed' sprawling is an understatement - it unfolds over eight minutes of crashing cymbals, gently strummed harps and heavenly harmonies, while the more symphonic moments are offset nicely by passages that feature only a few piano chords and Delaughter's plaintive voice gently intoning that "until tomorrow, the only sound was my mistake, it's all that I can say". Needless to say, the rest of the album matches the opener for sheer scope of ambition. Trying to pick out individual tracks is difficult as the album flows together like a never ending musical, and within single tracks there are often more different styles and segments than most bands offer in their entire careers. Still, 'Hold Me Now' obviously stood out enough for it to be picked as a single and at 4 and a half minutes it's certainly one of the shortest. It's verses are built on pounding minor chords, while the chorus is so sun-kissed and anthemic it manages to surpass all the singles they've released so far.
Occasionally this album astounds simply by the fact that it gets away with the most preposterous musical excesses this side of seventies prog-rock while still sounding great. For example, 'Suitcase Calling' (which is nine minutes long) opens with the sound of a lone opera voice, before descending into a beautiful country tinged passage that takes in lilting pedal steel and theremin sounds. It's one of the strangest and most soothing passages on the album, but naturally the calm doesn't last- at around 3:40 we're back to the huge orchestra and rolling piano chord sound, while Tim leads his choir into singing about "the coolest water slide".
On the whole although positivity still naturally shines through as the Spree's main drive, Together We're Heavy has a lot more reflective and melancholic moments than it's predecessor- the lyrics that back this up seem to deal with the hectic lifestyle Delaughter has bestowed upon himself simply by running such a high-maintenance band. However, there is no complaining or self pity- when on 2,000 Places he sings "you gotta be good, you gotta be strong, you gotta be 2,000 places at once" it's with a sense of positive achievement and sheer determination to succeed, not a desultory defeated shrug.
All in all, this is about as far as you can get from the once fashionable but now flagging likes of the Datsuns (the Spree's touring partners on last years NME jaunt) and their uninspired rock posturing, and therefore is the perfect tonic if you've heard just one too many unoriginal guitar bands for now. Together We're Heavy is an album that you feel will stay in your affections for years to come, but more importantly it'll make you forget all about that crappy Razorlight single you brought.
Review by Ian Viggars
This collection of electronica is interesting but cannot really be described as an album. It is a diverse mix of songs, which whilst being good on the whole, do not really seem at ease with each other. In fact it seems more like a few good singles padded out with a lot of filler.
The first two songs on the album ‘War Machine’ and ‘Man Made Man’ sound and feel a lot like early Human League with their apocalyptic message and claustrophobic sense of darkness. They marry up very well with track eight ‘Hi Tek Weaponry Girl’ which despite its lighter tones is musically very similar. If released as a single these tracks would do exceptionally well.
Another good package of songs, though again for some reason not placed together in the track listing, is ‘Clear My Head’, ‘Metathon’ and ‘Grilling The Cheese’. These are old skool style rave outs of the highest quality offering a stunning array of beats, bleeps and blips and enough to make you wish it was 1989 again.
Sadly much of the rest of the album fails. Heavy use of vocoders and other devices distract from what is being said and yet somehow manage to bring attention to it; great when the lyrics are amusing but irritating where they are ineffective. The music is varied, from ambient to straight electronic yet mainly caught in the 80s and not particularly original. However the true gem of the album can be found in the midst of these tracks.
LSD is a song to be proud of, pure psycadellic bliss. Featuring acoustic guitars and very little synth it reminds you of the hazy blissed out days of summer you never want to forget. Honestly, buy the album for this song alone, a more tripped out anthem will be hard to come by this year.
However LSD really illustrates the problems with this album. It is brilliant and shows what Cursor Miner are capable of, but have not explored far enough in this album. The sad fact is, there are some great ideas in this album but the spectrum it covers is too wide and nothing is really taken far enough to hold listeners of any of the various facets it offers.
Review by Foxy
If you haven't heard any music by the Hidden Cameras yet, you've probably at least read about their many quirks- from having upwards of 13 members making up their live show, to their explicit lyrics describing (with surprising tenderness) the act of pissing on one's lover. Yes, as far as image is concerned this Canadian outfit have the 'indie outsider gang bordering on mental cult religion' thing nailed.
However, despite their ever swelling line-up, the Hidden Cameras are basically the brainchild of one visionary lunatic called Joel Gibb and last year, with the aid of his freakish cohorts, he created 'The Smell of Our Own'. The album drew equally from both the fey melodic ramblings of Belle and Sebastian and Phil Spector's towering wall of sound, but the killer ingredients were lines like 'he is peeing on my shoulders and me, a warm wet salty breeze'- at turns both shockingly x-rated and strangely poetic, given extra potency by the fact they were tacked on to what sounded like perfect pop. In short, 'The Smell' was one of last year's best releases, an alternative classic that was in turns startling, moving, and most importantly, overflowing with classic tunes.
Happily, 'Mississauga Goddam' never strays too far from this formula, and although there are a few faults here that their debut successfully avoided, they remain so miniscule that I may as well get them out of the way now. 'In the Union of Wine's melody is a little too awkward sounding and the track rambles at the end, staying on one note and not really going anywhere, while'B-Boy' sees Gibb exploiting his amazingly tremulous voice to the point of parody, so it winds up sounding like a severely distressed lamb. With these minor complaints aside, what remains is another brilliant album.
'Doot Doot Plot' kicks off proceedings by positively exploding with harps and swooning mini-orchestral flourishes, but with what sounds like the Muppets on backing vocals. Next is 'Builds the Bone', a song that's so stripped in comparison with the rest of the album that it sounds almost lo-fi, thus allowing the gorgeous melody to shine through. 'Fear is On' by contrast is built on a colossal pop hook and although it sounds ever so faintly similar to the Proclaimers, it's one of the album's best songs. The true highlights though are 'I Believe In the Good of Life' and 'Music is My Boyfriend'. The former is another shamelessly melodic pop song, it's plucked violins and urgently strummed guitars underpin lyrics like "I did not do those drugs or steal those underpants", which in the context of such exuberant music sound ridiculously camp and strangely joyous. The latter is a song which seems to sum up the bands agenda more than any other. Gibb sings about music as if it's a new lover he's fallen for and can't get enough of. If any other songwriter chose this subject to add to a sprightly choral pop song you'd quite rightly be calling for their execution, but as usual his mordant sense of humour and deadpan lyrics (such as "I wash his dirty underwear, he made me toast" and "we don't make out, or fall in love") turn it into something sublime and original.
'We Oh We' also deserves a special mention simply as it's one of the most beautiful examples of melodic perfection you'll hear all year, while the lyrics play it surprisingly straight as Joel croons "all I want is to be in his movie". As if to remind you that it is still the Hidden Cameras you're listening too, it's followed by a song called 'I Need Another Enema'.
Apart from the two exceptions mentioned earlier, 'Mississauga Goddam' retains it's giddy thrill as consistently as it's predecessor. However once again, the album's main triumph is welding challenging words onto naggingly familiar and accessible melodies, and for this reason alone the band deserve a much bigger status than the cult following they already have. That's why you should buy this album and cherish it.
Review by Ian Viggars
Razorlight have put themselves in a pretty tough position. Well, Johnny has anyway. They’re probably one of the very few bands that manage to get just as many people hating them as loving them, and this is before their third single is even released, let alone a debut album. So for someone who is so damn gobby and ranks himself alongside some of the greatest songwriters in our time, the debut album better be good. The London band's collection of songs has finally graced our shelves having been released from Vertigo, and up to now it’s been questionable whether it’ll live up to front man Johnny Borrells motor mouth acclamations of genius, or fall flat on its arse.
Luckily for us (and Johnny’s pride) it’s pretty stunning for a debut album. The songs are an indie pop mixture of love, passion, lust and London, but refrain from sounding anything like the Libertines, it sounds so much more innocent, but the stories behind them are anything but. Rumour has it that ‘Dalston’ was written about a certain friend of Borrells, a plea not to return to the drug infested town.
From just people that I know that hate Razorlight with a passion and would wish them all dead, actually think that ‘Golden Touch’ is a cracking single (though it pains them to admit it) they’d probably like ‘In the City’ even better. If this song isn’t released then it’ll turn into what ‘Panzer Attack’ is to the Coopers. That’s the best thing about this album, there are no fillers, and no songs that were there squeezed in there to make numbers, every single one is single worthy or at least has you listening.
The album has room for growth and so do the band, unlike many other bands that have pigeon holed themselves into one sound, last song ‘Fall Fall Fall’ has a sweet bareness about it that could quite easily propel Borrell into solo success. And for a band who’ve managed to convince even my most negative of friends that maybe Johnny actually does have talent, well, that’s pretty special.
Review by CM
There was much anticipation leading to the moment Rachel Goswell's debut album plopped onto my doormat. Not least because of her connections in the past. Co-founder of Slowdive - a band at the credible end of the short-lived but much-remembered 'shoe gazing' scene - and, more recently, a member of Mojave 3. She just has this voice that is inexplicably beautiful and haunting, but I can't help wonder how much production has aided this effect with her previous band-based work.
From an album I expected so much of, this is a frankly dire effort. She totally overdoes the 'twee' effect, tries to over-instrument her songs to divert attention from her lacklustre melodies and has obviously spent no time whatsoever on the lyrics. I actually cringed when I heard the line "Yeah you give me hope and that's just fine" thrown in over the top of, amongst other instruments, a harmonium, bangles and a caved Wurlitzer. I would go as far as likening her to a Nina Nastasia who has completely forgotten how to write songs and in an attempt to rejuvenate her flailing career, has gone to the nearest city, bought The Corrs' guide to writing tepid ballad bollocks and structured her entire album around that.
The only redeemable feature
would be the packaging, which is bright, flowery and colourful. It wants
you to hug it. Then you get to the instrument credits, where (clearly
trying to get extra twee points) she lists Mother Nature as provider of
'ambience' or 'background noise'. Please, someone enlighten me, if you
write a shit song in the first stage of the whole song-writing process,
how will planting the noise of Charing Cross Road or Chistlehurst caves
make it any more listenable?! This album is clearly meant to 'soothe'
just like the free CDs you get with
'Relaxation Techniques Weekly', but the more I listen and think about
it, the more infuriated I get. Just, don't buy it. Maybe she'll have to
eventually go and inhabit a cave somewhere. Far away. Miles from civilisation
or a recording studio to bastardise.
Review by Jon Fisher
You
know when you spot someone who's really gorgeous? You walk up to them
and quickly realise that they're all looks and ego. Well, now imagine
that Pink Grease is the musical version of one of these 'beaufiful people'.
He appears to have it all - just the right mix of pop, electro, disco
and punk. The groups given a nod to by the band give some indication of
their sound - Liars, 80's Matchbox, Add n to (x) and Ladytron. Above all
it's very, very fun and you're really itching to dance with this guy.
He's looking at you. He's coming over. You're excited. Then he opens his
mouth. BAM! You know in an instant what an idiot he is. Imagine a voice,
swagger and attitude of Elvis mixed with Justin of The Darkness, and a
smattering of cock rock thrown in there as well. You're trying to urge
him to leave, but he just can't take a hint. The songs are stuck in your
mind, and worse still, you kind of want them there. This is the sort of
music you could really enjoy if it wasn't for that massive ego of his
obstructing everything. He takes your now frankly blunt suggestions of
him leaving as you playing hard to get, and so he starts with his cheesy
chat up lines. 'The Pink G.R. EASE is gonna make you sweat!' Urrgh! The
worst thing is, when he eventually gets the message drilled into his head
and walks away, you can't help but look, and listen. The name sums it
up perfectly, Grease IS the word.
Nathania Hartley
Need New Body are a six-piece band of multi instrumentalists from Philadelphia. Their latest release, UFO, is available from Pickled Egg Records.
This a very strange record indeed, and to deal with it I’m going to have to resort to a step-by-step analysis.
Firstly, it is unsettlingly varied. UFO sees pop songs that shouldn’t be pop songs sitting next to screaming jazz freak outs, groovy post punk knee jerks that any trendy band would kill for, piano rags and rants about beaches. Yet for some reason it makes sense. When they instruct you to ‘open up your rib cage show us your lungs’, it’s tempting to have a go.
Secondly, it sounds amazing, actually it sounds AMAZING! The album was recorded by Bablicon’s Blue Hawaii – a man who clearly knows his way round a mixing desk like you or I does the back of our hand.
Thirdly, it makes you dance. There are times when this record sounds like the Stranglers and Devo and others when it sounds like Sun Ra, but all throughout listening to it you’ll hear a constant, annoying tapping sound, it’ll be your foot.
Fourthly, judging by the photos in the sleeve, this band is seriously weird. Dressed as scary clowns and Egyptian princesses the band look like you might want to keep your distance, but don’t because I’ve a sneaking suspicion that they might actually know what they are doing and they are doing it very well.
I implore you to buy this record. It’s great. You won’t be disappointed.
Review by Robert Cluey
www.pickled-egg.co.uk'Talk Talk Talk' leans towards 'Going Underground' Jam whereas 'Little Bitch' is pure Specials, this typifies the one problem The Ordinary Boys have in that they have not managed to get enough of themselves rather than their influences into the recording which is a pity but with a debut album as good as this hopefully they can only go from strength to strength in the future. 4/5
Review by Darren Bunting
X is Loaded are four guys from bath who have had success prior to this release with support slots with the likes of Hell is for Heroes, Biffy Clyro and label mates Inme. On first listen nothing screams out at being original or even particularly memorable, however the more you listen and the more you allow yourself to enjoy the music you appreciate X is Loaded for what they are, four guys playing indie music.
A Strong opener named ‘Zero’ sets the pace for the rest of the album; I always think it’s brave for a band to begin their debut album with a song lasting almost 6 minutes especially with the second half of the song being instrumental, however it really works and sets you up for the catchy second track ‘Dean Park’ which reminded me a bit of Symposium.
Lead singer Jake Robertson has a strongish voice if not varied, at times even coming across with the confidence of Perry Farrell, the arrogance of Liam Gallagher and the aggression of Dave Grohl. The rest of the band produce some quality riffs and the writing is generally catchy.
Overall there’s nothing wrong with this CD and I would even go as far to say that I like it, but I don’t think it’s going to do anything any other indie band hasn't done in recent years.
Highlights for me include 'Zero', 'One More Razor' and new single 'Thirteen Days'.
Review by Rob Bassett