welcome to the no age – while everyone gazed longingly after the steadily growing shadow of my bloody valentine; keenly following the saga of “what kevin shields did next (primal scream ‘XTRMNTR’ & ‘evil heat’, sofia coppola’s ‘lost in translation’ soundtrack) these little psilocybin-secreting ‘shrooms pushed up through the muck.
no age’s “nouns” is superb sub pop – back when it was solid. they cover the flying nun’s HDU, verlaines, the clean harmony ridden, sugar-coated, wall-of-sound era with skill. melodic guitars swathed in distortion, angry, bass drum belting punk. it’s enough to get you flicking through your 3Ds collection to see if it IS really the same chords. this is the sort of thing that sells vinyl people. your mp3s – heck even your m4a’s won’t do this justice. no super slick pro-tooled, produced-to-hell pureé here. it’s ruff as guts, one ear too close to the amp to hear anything for days, live carnage in your ear-canal.
so i’m not musical, i can only sign-post you by name: if you dig on any of the above; love of diagrams, thought creature, deer hunter, the dead c, or any other nasty mould encrusted ear-candy then check these suckers out.
it’s like that strangely familiar chunk of green stuff you found on the floor in front of the stove: it may kill you, it may make you stranger – you’ll just have to smoke it and see…
Good-looking and melodious sounding Two Door Cinema Club is a yet commercially unspoiled band somewhere from Bangor. Labeled as “electro-pop” and “indie” one day they could probably become a competition to The Killers. The band’s recent track “Something Good Can Work” is a catchy fusion of noticeable indie vocals (thanks to Alex Trimble’s effort) and a very sincere and vibrant music score.
Something Good Can Work was the first song by the band I listened to. My first impression was as if Death Cab for Cutie got rid of their melancholy and changed their name. In the best traditions of Death Cab, Two Door Cinema Club is a good-quality mood music. Bubbly and refreshing, it made me think of having a mojito while chilling out somewhere on the beach after a busy day.
Some may think that lyrics do not mean a lot, especially in indie songs, so do the guys from Two Door Cinema Club (as it is pretty obvious from the band’s name itself). Dissolved in the tune and voice, random sentences without particular meaning pass by leaving one with nothing but a single line stuck in their head. This is where Cinema yields to Cab with their somnambulantly existential texts. However, it is not that bad when you keep on singing “Let’s make this happen, girl you gotta show the world that something good can work and it can work you”?
after a slightly less punchy than the title/concept last album, peaches follows up her relentless ass-kicking festival-fisting frenzied recent parade of live shows with a nice, tight, pounding, at home & in your earphones experience via her new album “i feel cream”.
she doesn’t give a fuck if you call her, maul her, fall for her or follow her. which is essential, obviously. if she was any other flash in the pan, cling to your producer and the latest fashion photographer, full of her past-glories pop-whore she’d be screwed.
i have to say i’ve never found her previous albums the full squid – always more style than content, a solid six singles and some saucy filler. this time you get the feeling there’s at least five more full length eps worth of rank, rinsed-out horn-dog b-sides lying around the studio floor just waiting to be unleashed so they can dry hump your unsuspecting limbs…
this time the peach spreads her legs and sprinkles a whole lot wider. even covering a little kylie face-time in the uber tight “lose you”. you’re going to hear this baby on the radio and start thinking “is that the new peaches?! oh man, she’s sold out, too clean, blah, blah, etc” but before you’ve even reached for the skip button you’ll find yourself thumbing yourself mercilessly and pulling over to call your gf/bf/dj/pc or mac to beg them to start the download so you can get this goodness anytime you want it. which will be often.
where peaches gets it right isn’t just the variety – covering all the bases, satisfying all fans: brothers and sisters, fingerers and fisters – she clearly is still enjoying herself, and knows you should too. the transition between tracks and styles is smooth and unrelenting. only the slightly miss-able too-slick title track gives you time to reach for a glass of water before the staccato-slam dance crunked-up chorus reaches round and grabs you by the throat to pull you back under the spell/duvet/doona/disco ball (delete as appropriate).
and then you get “more”. more of the same, more than you asked for, more than you can take, but you know you’re gonna damn well try.
***WARNING: if you’ve ever OD-ed on anything don’t listen to this track unless you can handle the relapse. she’s nasty, sweet, seductive and firing on all beats. you will find yourself crawling to the porcelain telephone and trying to call your mum/jesus/the samaritans – anyone who’ll listen to your helpless pleas to stop the world spinning.
i first heard this on an easter weekend and after a relentless six laps out-loud even my orthodox christian greek neighbours were enraptured in the slick soul-slapping production and forsaking all others for her serpentine sounds. can i get a goddess-damn!!
stand-outs have to include the no-doubt soulwax produced “showstopper”. what can i say – it’s not the e-talking, but the grainy analogue synths (i pick upright korgs in there somewhere) that’ll run up your leg like warm pee in reverse, until your pogo-ing your way to oblivion.
and is that digitalism i hear offering the warm teet of “mommy complex”?
BITTY!!!
it’s enough to make a grown man cry- just for attention, of course…
“mud” continues the minimal mash: and trust me – it cannot be easy to make something this complicated sound so simple. peaches vents her vixen and shows she’s so much more than a rapping, ear-raping, one-trick pony. purring and cooing her way through so much filthy goodness with such syrupy succubus style she’d send alison goldfrapp back to her vocal coach in tears. again with the evil ass-slapping, glam, foot-stomping yet euro-tight grainy, distorted FUNK.
ladies and un-gentleman: i declare peaches has wrastled her mojo back into line and mercifully unleashed it upon us all. open your ears and say “aaahh…”
I had high expectations and levels of excitement when I heard the Who were coming to town. I bought an expensive ticket, happily knowing that I was going to be witnessing a huge part of my musical DNA. However, as the concert approached two things ignited flares of doubt in my mind – 1) the fact that the Counting Crows were opening (wtf?), and 2) a disturbing interview I read in Groove Guide with Pete Townshend the day before the show, in which Pete said he hated the Who, wanted to leave, and that he wasn’t even joking. I reassured myself by trying to remember whether Nickelback opened for the Stones, and that concert turned out to be my favourite ever; plus the fact that Pete has always been a slight bummer…
Anyway, the night of the show arrived and on the journey to my seat I encountered an unexpected crowd– extremely drunk bogany/westie/white trash types who were oldish, but didn’t seem old or intelligent enough to be proper Who fans – if intelligent is the word I’m looking for here?? I ended up in a prime position though– I was as close to the stage as I would have been at any pub gig, and I soon forgot there was a stadium full of people behind me. Suddenly, Roger and Pete appeared on the stage without much ado; and to my slight horror, Roger was carrying a mug of tea – way to amp us up, Roger. Pete came out looking like a tired, shabbily dressed old man in Hallensteins garb. I must admit, I was comparing and expecting this gig to equal the Stones, who had everything from the clothes to the attitude from the get go.
When they started to play and sing I could hear the Who; Roger and Pete still have their musical talent. The backing band were great too, but the focus was definitely on Daltrey and Townshend, as it should be. They will both forever be icons, but I think they lacked energy, and seemed slightly over it. I probably expected way too much, but can you blame me? Oh to see the Who in their heyday when they were smashing their instruments and popular attitudes, changing lives and carving a jagged path into music as we know it today. I still appreciate the fact I got to see them – and decided to spend my time taking as many pics as I could to immortalise this experience in my life.
