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Sunday, 06 July, 2008

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House/Electro/Other

Raise Your Hands: The Greatest Hits

House/Electro/Other

Now on Skint records, Xpress2 pre-empt the Chemical Brothers ’ imminent collection, as the 2nd wave of dance ‘best of’s’ arrive. This mixes Xpress2’s bigger name collaborations with earlier dance-floor monsters such as ‘London Express’ and, appropriately, ‘Smoke Machine’, which both emerge pleasingly from the dry ice of woolly clubbing memories. Leading with the droll David Byrne-led ‘Lazy’ risks setting a high standard early, but actually provides lesser known gems greater voice, its over familiarity detracting from how jaw-droppingly good it was that first...

tags: | x-press2 | x-press2 greatest hits | x-press2 skint | x-press2 raise your hands | more...

80s/Electro/Dance

Muddytrax Recordings

80s/Electro/Dance

80s nostalgia has a place in every twenty-something guy or gals heart. Who doesn’t get a wee butterfly in their stomach and a need to do the ‘Robo Cop’ when Tears for Fears’ Shout comes on or Prince starts singing about Purple Rain and Bambi? The subject of the 'Elven One' leads us nicely onto Metro Williams and Blonde Peterson, otherwise known as Muddyloop; a duo attempting to play time-machine with the poor frazzled brains of the dance fraternity, and send them zooming straight back to a bygone period of The Raggy Dolls and Poodle Perms. You see, Muddyloop’s debut album, Flight Night, was very much inspired by the likes of Prince and 80s era Michael Jackson; couple this with a love of electro grooves and 80s synths and you’ve got an album so soaked in sweaty sex and a Super-Soaker squirt of cum, you’ll need a bulk order from the Kleenex factory and still have to pop down the 24-hour Garage for more. ‘I Could Do Things 2 U’ is a track that does what it says on the tin. It’s literally about a guy who ‘wants to do things’ to a girl he’s got his beady eyes on; and we don’t mean take her down the cinema to see The Jungle Book 3, followed by a tasty meal in Nando’s. The rest of the album is in much the same vein... Fans of cheesy-electro with a generous dollop of 80s dance will want to make love to Flight Night over and over and over again. Those without a sense of humour and a yearning to hit the town and “pull a hot chick” will despise it. We shouldn’t like Flight Night, but the fact it doesn't take itself too seriously means that we fucking do! Dangerous Dave Muddyloop's debut album, Flight Night, is available now on Muddytrax Recordings. Click here to buy. www.muddyloop.com / www.myspace.com/muddyloop . To read Planet Notion’s interview with the boys, Click here .

tags: | muddyloop | more...

Punk-pop

Red, Yellow and Blue

Their simultaneous breakthroughs onto the Skins-approved indie scene make it pretty difficult not to compare Born Ruffians to darlings du jour Vampire Weekend. There are certainly moments where the two bands do sound alike – not least singer Luke LaLonde’s strained vocals – but the aptly named Toronto three-piece have thrown out the glossy production and Afro-influence in favour of something altogether scruffier, and, well, more interesting. There is a childish exuberance that runs throughout ‘Red, Yellow and Blue’: from the primary colour theme to song titles like ‘Barnacle Goose’, ‘Badonkadonkey’ and ‘Red Elephant’; from the joyous group yelps that form the backing vocals of most tracks to the cheeky adolescent-themed lyrics that fill them. It’s an album absolutely bursting with boyish energy, right down to the tinny guitar and jerky rhythms and this, mixed with Rusty Santos’ undercooked production, means Born Ruffians end up sounding something like a garage indie-pop band. The painfully good trio of ‘Barnacle Goose’, single ‘Hummingbird’ and sing-along anthem ‘I Need A Life’ provide the early album fuel, the latter issuing the slacker call to arms: “The sun is shining but we stay inside, oh but we go out at night”. But there are tracks that (despite some overlong intros) reach out and grab you throughout, in particular the vulpine love song ‘Foxes Mate For Life’ and nursery rhyme-like ‘Badonkadonkey’. ‘Red, Yellow and Blue’ sounds like it was damned fun to make and it could just be that it’s even more fun to listen to. Chris Helsen

tags: | born ruffians | more...

Electronic

Warp’s recent rock renaissance with guitar-based acts such as Battles, the omnipresent cash-cow that is Maximo Park and recently signed post prog-rockers Pivot may have had fans wondering if this was a perhaps a new direction for the label. With their latest high profile release coming in the form of the sophomore album from 21st century beat magician Flying Lotus, it seems its business as usual for the label that brought you electronic pioneers Aphex Twin, Autechre and Nightmares on Wax. Following Flylo’s brilliantly received Reset EP for the label last October, Los Angeles shows this LA talent truly opening up to provide an emotional journey through off-kilter polyrhythms and aerial currents. From the bars of dramatic opener Brainfeeder , to the soothing loops of closing track Auntie’s Lock/Infinitum , Flying Lotus is on a deep groove. The Vangelis-like melodrama of Brainfeeder , all slow, jutting synths and emotional weight, crackles its wayinto the shaking kick-drum and steady rim-shots of Breathe Something/Stellar Star , with it’s soft bass licks reminiscent of early releases from Skam Records. Along with following track Beginners Falafel , the scene is set for the first section of the album; pitched down, tripped out beatery with a tough boom-bap edge. This combines perfectly with tracks like Melt! and Comet Course , the former of which melds the swagger of West Coast hip hop with carefully edited afro-beat rhythms and a deceptively killer atonal bass beat. This is music drenched in the sunshine of the American west coast, the skipping ride of Comet Course pertaining to the ambiance of a busy LA morning, whilst, referencing the astrophysical journeys of jazz great Pharoah Sanders. The dual themes of sunshine and light are carried on in the dilated atmospherics of ambient interludes such as Orbit 405 , with its stuttering bass notes layered with as much crackle and reverb as you could wish for, before the truly blissed out sunset-vibes and organic ballin’ of other album highlight Golden Diva come into play . With its click-clack snare, melodic looped keys and vocal snippets, Golden Diva demonstrates Flylo’s skill in subtly building a track through use of echo and layering, the listener being slowly transported to different sections of the composition, yet only really noticing at the last minute. The dreamlike outro of Golden Diva leads us to the crushing bass stomp of Riot ,which comes through with treated vocal samples and background electronics, with a melody constructed from aggressive doubled-up ringing effects and a jangled guitar sample, before a brief sample of Vincent Price’s psychotic cackle from Thriller is subsumed by an apocalyptic, staggering beat. It’s this manner of suddenly switching directions in a track that creates openness within the album, almost as if the tracks constitute a collection of intricately developed sketches. This is echoed again in GNG BNG where a steady-rolling back-snapping bounce is coupled with a looped sitar sample, before being replaced by a damagingly echoed boom-bap rhythm and devilish bass track reminiscent of a beefed-up, crunked out Eric B beast. This ability to make devastating party numbers, yet remain a master of subtle ambient layering is one of many similarities Flying Lotus shares with that UK genius of bass driven emotional fallout, Burial. If Burial’s dark, mournful compositions, peppered with glowing embers of warmth and soul are the negative image, Flying Lotus provides the positive. This is something Flylo picks up on in conversation, his friendly demeanour belaying the emotional content within his music. “When I heard Burial in LA, I thought y’know (sic) ‘yeah man, this is good, this is nice’ but I only picked up on the layering when I was in London, and then I was like ‘this is the sound of this place”. So does this suggest that geography could possibly work against the universality of music? No. For Flying Lotus it’s about the individual journey of the listener; “I didn’t want to make it too specific, I wanted to keep it open to the listener and ensure there was space for the person to travel within the music. But I do think this record makes most sense in LA, because I made it when I was dying out there in the sun y’know?” This deeply cinematic, even visual aspect to Los Angeles runs throughout the record, invoking psychedelic snippets of its namesake and mixing them into one cohesive whole. A mixture of atmospheric evocations and versatile influences places the album next to David Holmes’s groundbreaking Lets Get Killed , yet the influence runs far deeper than that, with anyone from David Axelrod to Fela Kuti being mixed into a portrait of musical synaethesia. However, this is not a record simply reflecting time, place or even geography, for Flying Lotus, the journey undertaken in his music is deep;“making a record is like a journal y’know? It’s a reflection of where you are at that time. This record definitely has more of my personal experience in it than my debut, both good and bad.” Some of this bad experience could be related to the recent death of his great-aunt, the revered jazz organist, harpist and pianist Alice Coltrane. This is touched upon in Aunties Harp , a track that is a fitting collaboration between the two, revolving a sample of the late Miss Coltrane’s harp over the top of a mesmerising, rattlling rhythm, before falling into the creeping double bass and beautifully smoked-out vocals of Gonja Sufi on Testament . It is this second string to the Flying Lotus bow that demonstrates his real versatility. Tracks like Testament and Roberta Flack (a tribute to the much-sampled jazz and soul vocalist), with its revolving vibes and bubbling, dusty bass, transport the listener to sunnier climes, whilst Sleepy Dinosaur is a stuttering, spitting, coughing track of which Dilla would be proud. With Lotus’s rich musical heritage, it’s no surprise he’s produced an album of such obvious depth and versatility, demonstrated again on the beautiful closing track Aunties Lock/Infinitum . It’s this track that points the way forward for Flying Lotus now, as a muted foot drum propels the soft looping keys and lullaby vocals of The Long Lost’s Laura Darlington, whilst a stammering hi-hat is lightly shaken over the track, creating a truly spellbinding way to end the record. With some exciting projects in the pipeline and a rumoured 2000 tracks on his hard drive, Flying Lotus is well on his way to mirroring both the critical and commercial success of his Warp peers. Los Angeles , an utterly enthralling record, is up there with the best of their output. Louis Cook

tags: | flying lotus | more...

Indie

Beggars Banquet

The title of this assured album sounds like a weapon from Itchy and Scratchy, a cartoon perfectly befitting the Tindersticks world, because its business as usual, with the Village People covers album remaining a long way off. Solo albums from singer Stuart Staples, since the last Tindersticks album in 2003, have apparently resulted in a new authority over their sound. Following the sparse, piano-led ‘Introduction’, ‘Tomorrows Yesterday’ reminds us Nick Cave has no monopoly on barroom, gothic-gloom, although the organ simmers wonderfully, before spilling into a brass-underpinned chorus, with palpable relief from the customarily weather-hewn vocal from Staples. The songs are delightfully ambiguous; such as the soft romanticism of the poetic single ‘The Flicker of a Little Girl’ complete with almost Motown backing oohs , or the heart shattering strings of ‘Come Feel The Sun’. It’s always sad to see great titles wasted, and ‘E-type’ is neither an ode to the car, nor typeface, rather an instrumental looking for somewhere to take its soft mariachi horn. However with further highlights, of ‘Boobar’s echoed lead vocal, and the invisible duet of the lilting female vocal – all atmosphere, no words – of ‘All the love’, the reshuffled Tindersticks remain a shadowy presence, until the epic closer ‘The Turns We Took’. It’s magnificent, life-affirming pop that The Guillemots sometimes touch, and, finally the band arrives; it’s muscularly sublime. Over gentle backing vocals, string harmonies and tightly woven guitar, Stuart Staples narrates an enigmatic story, and it serves as the starting place to win new fans. TH

tags: | tindersticks | more...

Funk and Soul

Fallin' Off the Reel 2

Selected Artists

Modern funk and soul appears to have been swept under the ‘mainstream’ rug like traces of a 4am kebab on your mother’s favourite carpet. That’s why DJs who specialise in funk and soul have to dig, delve and fight for modern vinyl; it’s such a niche market. All the decent stuff is few and far between; unique and often rare. Brooklyn-based Truth and Soul Records, one of the finest producers of modern funk and soul, have released their second compilation ‘Fallin’ Off the Reel Volume 2’. I know, I know: it’s a compilation and compilations are generally bad - if you liked a particular song by a particular artist you’d probably own their album anyway, right? The difference is that Truth and Soul are renowned for releasing music on limited edition 45 singles that never exceed 2000 pressed. It’s akin to popping down the supermarket and picking up some Evian after a code red terror warning; you’re going to have a bit of trouble. ‘Fallin’ Off the Reel 2’ is an opportunity for collectors who missed out on tracks to get their hands on them, or for those poor souls that don’t own a record player to become acquainted with the finest in modern funk and soul; and boy is it a fine collection. In a nutshell it’s a host of artists from Truth and Soul delving into everything from Latin-funk to the kind of funk beats you’d associate with Crockett and Tubbs in the ghettos of Miami Vice or Tarantino’s Jackie Brown. There are old favourites including ‘I Can’t Help Myself’ and an excellent version of Marvin Gaye’s ‘What’s Going On’, lovingly performed by artists with respect for the music and who, well, sing it with a lot of soul. We’re talking the likes of ‘Tyron Ashley’s Funky Music Machine’ and ‘Black Velvet’; a Cuban edge to the Latin-funk scores performed by the likes of ‘Bronx River Parkway’ – thrusting you into Little Havana with a fat cigar and a quart of rum. Wu-Tang’s Raekwon even gets involved for a hip hop score on the Pete Rock classic PJ’s – giving it a deep and funky edge. It’s a peculiar inclusion, granted, but it works surprisingly well surrounded by the more classic funk and soul fodder. If you haven’t heard of Truth and Soul before now, then Fallin’ Off the Reel 2 is the perfect way to become acquainted. Sexy, funky and smooth. A bit like yours truly on a Friday night… Dave Dryden www.truthandsoulrecords.com

tags: | truth and soul | more...

Folk

We Made This Ourselves

Essie Jain is an Englishwoman in New York, and her debut album is most obviously inflicted with that ageless stigma – the ‘earnest’ pigeonhole. But does that equal ‘a second rate Joni’? The only real answer is one reasonably akin to sometimes yes, sometimes no. ‘We Made This Ourselves’ is melismatic, minimally scattered orchestrals, a bit of well-executed vibrato here and there and an occasional Baltic flair, seen clearest on ‘Talking’. And talking of the confines of labelling a new artist, the following words also come to mind: delicate, sombre, subtle, understated - but Joan As Police Woman’s ‘Real Life’ seems to work it a whole lot better in just under five minutes than this album can aspire to. There’s nothing wrong with Jain’s folk, it’s just not life-changing or even that affecting, despite the undeniable honesty – most notable on paean to the battle between alcohol and a partner, ‘Loaded’. The butterfly infused artwork says it all for mediocrity. The simple waltz metre of ‘Disgrace’ is impeccable and the vocals consistently wistful – but it’s just not engaging. And minimalism can also go one of two ways: beautifully built up intricacies, or something like a drone. Suffice to say, this is the latter, less varied, more self-resonant interpretation. Introversion aside, there’s no Joanna Newsom duck-like vocal quirk, nor can there be any valid claim that a Vashti Bunyan purity’s enough – because the listener wants more now, or at least this one does. Blame it on Cat Power. NS

tags: | essie jain | more...

Dance Punk

I cannot think of a single original thing that has been said about Foals in the last six months. Do you know how hard this makes what I have to do? Doubly hard, twice. That’s how hard. Because first I have to condemn everyone for not saying anything original and then I actually have to justify my moral rectitude by bringing a palate-cleansing course of fresh thought following the cloying banquet of derivative tripe. So much coverage, so many voices – a diaspora! …of, um, the young middle class across England AND America! – saying the same complimentary things in the same complimentary way, but never quite getting the music, the band, the buzz. The world inevitably tends towards eating itself; coverage of buzz bands implodes under the burdensome litany of qualifications about just how hyped a band are – focus on buzz and the music is obscured. This is the fucking awful self-obsession of the rock-critically correct and it is borne of a lack of inspiration or imagination. It’s a goddam shame: a record as oft-times breathtaking as this should inspire everyone to strive for more fitting forms of expression. Somewhat amusingly, as this self-obsessive buzz intensifies, enveloping and obscuring the music, Foals’ strength as artists resides in their intense disregard for all except the music they are playing. Nobody would come off well beneath the glare cast on them and they’ve regularly been guilty of some ungainly, self-aware squirming in interviews; when they play, though, there is nothing else in the world to them. This is the most you can ask of performers in the art-form noted above all others for its sublimity. Antidotes is an egalitarian dialogue between its players, its muses, influences, between harmony and discord – balance achieved by recognising extremity and disagreement. They told me when interviewed, “Sitek said, you can go to some in producer and he’ll make you a pink brick. Compressed to fuck. He showed us the spaces between sounds.” Their immersion in the music they’re making, their trek to some half-imagined source, has left them so familiar with the terrain en route that listening to this record is to hear their descriptions of its pieces: musical landscapes in narratives incredibly engrossing, yes, and also guilty of the flaws specific to those who tell it – and so more personal, and so the better. Ahh… fuck. That over-reaches, doesn’t it? As time passes, y’see, and you grow more familiar with it, Antidotes offers many minor epiphanies of appreciation: for the players and its emotion, but above all for its intelligence. This all comes later, fortunately; at first you hear nothing but the record’s pulse, lusty affirmation that it and you are alive. You’re completely over-run; the opening does it: the staggering one-two hit of ‘The French Open’ and ‘Cassius’, a violent reprisal upon doubters, pounding, insistent and dramatic – you feel floored and breathless as the spiders-on-ice skitter of Yannis’ guitar gives way suddenly and a brass breakdown marking the scene change and second act. You’re grateful they offer the respite. Those physical and emotional responses, though, are telling of the thought evident in sequencing, the artful production – signs of a band interested in more than being interesting. The record feels as though it’s in several movements: following the thrilling opening, the subsequent triumvirate of more considered and adventurous tracks make something of those abstruse influences everyone is so keen on talking about, particularly the BLN minimal shit; ‘Olympic Airways’, particularly, is curious in its refusal to offer the expected pummelling by drums while guitars are more tender, less crawling. A later movement, ‘Two Steps, Twice’ and ‘Big Big Love (Fig. 2)’, offers in turn both fury and insecurity; this combination is the showpiece of the album, yet also its heart and humanity: a rebuke and a caress genuinely meant, and which you can tell makes them anxious about how honest they’ve just been. Fie on this earnesty! (Theirs and mine). ...As a friend objected, “But they’re not funny, are they? They’re not taking the piss out of me while I listen to them, or out of music or musicians.” He’s right. They’re not. This is neither a giddy nor a gleeful experience; but it’s fucking intoxicating: a throw-down record; at times, an imperative to dance as an antidote to rising nausea; but mostly, there’s just imperative – caused by Antidotes’ insistent, propulsive nature, there’s this physical imperative which circumvents any response other than what feels right viscerally. The album is bigger than that single response, by far, but the physical response is at its core: the first reaction and the right one. Those minor epiphanies – the way Sitek’s production has Antibalas’ horns warmly embrace the abrasive edges of the guitar in ‘Heavy Water’s peaks, the deflated theatrics that close Electric Bloom with it’s refusal to peak in the way it’s earlier urgency portends – such small revelations and hidden joys come from deferred appreciation that behind something so visceral is art, craft and thought from immersed and obsessive musicians. Nonetheless, Antidotes is very much a record Foals have wrought; it is very much a debut record: obsessed over by the artists, struggled with, immersed in; perhaps too taut, too tight. Certain records in certain publications demand big reviews. The match of Foals and Notion is not that of Klaxons and NME, Pitchfork and Radiohead. To me, though, Antidotes feels like that big record expecting a big review. It seems like there’s a lot to cover, too many edifices built up around it to navigate, too much said by too many and all too familiar: how Sitek produced it, how his mix was rumoured to be an awful stoned haze, that Yannis saved it, the covers, the influences. That rising buzz. Y’know what buzz is, really? It’s the noise we raise in fear of the silence, our anxious confrontation with absence and anticipation; it’s the clamour we make in terrified stupor before the music arrives. Antidotes is out now. Words: Michael Lewin

tags: | foals | antidotes | more...

Indie

Albums from Transgressive (Battle and Foals) are always welcome, and the first half of Young Knives’ second album sets the bar so high for 2008, it’ll be gloves off the moment competitors hear it. It’s a fantastic start, with the energetic ‘Fit 4 U’ kicking off with the kind of 60’s jauntiness Supergrass used to wow/annoy with. Next the similarly chorus-loaded ‘Terra Firma’ and ‘Up All Night’ stake their hit single status, with the kind of rabble-rousing cynicism bus drivers must dread hearing on the upper deck, the former even seductively underpinned by new fangled synthesisers. ‘Counters’ is another highlight: surging, pastoral rock, with dogs making a welcome return to pop since Pet Shop Boys’ ‘Suburbia’; its atmospheric middle 8 even segues into a handclapped groove and some glorious nonsense about hosepipes. ‘Turn Tail’ is early U2, punk with a velvet heart, its gentle croon and swelling strings ending in a cacophony of experimental victory. Meanwhile ‘Dyed In The Wool’ puts sheep as protagonists in song and it’s a romp. The album isn’t blemish free, ‘Flies’ somehow outstays its brief welcome, while ‘Mummy Light The Fire’ has such a fantastic, shy, guitar break it needs more room to breathe. Then, following ‘Current Of The River’s wide-screen indie, arrives a secret track, which after you’ve forgotten the album is playing, bursts frantically into life. Once you’ve recovered, its mockney fairground jape does little to compensate. But overall it’s a well-tempered success, The Gang of Four influence remains, though Mogwai’s producer, Tony Doogan, as expected, provides the instrumentation greater voice, reining the starkness in at the right points. It loses a little focus towards the end, but there’s orchestrated magic amongst interweaved vocals, lending a variety and depth to these instantly likeable tracks. The intended videos for each song promise to be equally interesting. TH

tags: | young knives | more...

Electronica/Dance

Made in the Dark

Electronica/Dance

Do you enjoy oxymorons? For those without an unabridged Oxford Dictionary in front of them or who are devoid of an English Language GCSE, an oxymoron is a description or comparison using opposites. If you prefer a more pompous (read ‘accurate’) explanation, our handy online resource, dictionary.com, tells us it’s: ‘a figure of speech by which a locution produces an incongruous, seemingly self-contradictory effect, as in “cruel kindness” or “to make haste slowly.”’ Hot Chip have always been the musical equivalent of an oxymoron. Previous long-players, ‘Coming On Strong’ and ‘The Warning’ were loaded with a potent combination of laid back yet pulsating beats. Seemingly drawing from soul, indie rock, funk and any other source of subtle dancefloor beckoning, they crafted 4am soothers rather than 1am bangers. For this we were all grateful, and often surprised. It seems that their third opus, ‘Made In The Dark,’ is aware of this background yet conscious of trying to push forwards. The energy rippling throughout opener, ‘Out At The Pictures,’ from the languishing keyboard vamp that ends up in competition with a racing pulse rate, to its pummelling repetitive chorus, is a little disarming. It’s also undeniably exciting. The basic, stripped down instrumentation of yore has been augmented with a heap of simple melodies and elemental noises. Upon arriving at current single, ‘Shake A Fist,’ not only does that irresistible monotone geek electronica shine through as usual; we get a hilarious breakdown incorporating Todd Rundgren’s announcement of a new game: ‘Sounds Of The Studio.’ Here they proceed to throw the kitchen sink, hand dryer, washing machine and everything else into the following three minutes so as not to disappoint anyone with headphones. The rules on this record seem to be that there are no holds barred. Don’t for a second think we’re facing a riotous mess, though. The Jenga construction, overlapping textures and functional vocals are all present and correct, providing a safe zone for Hot Chip aficionados. You know that their relatively inoffensive assault on your feet is going to lead to an unavoidable epidemic of toe tapping. It’ll also cause a mental feedback loop in your brain, causing you to inadvertently start humming those repetitious hooks. Now consider this. Does this sound like it belongs in 2008? Will this knock you flying off your feet, leaving you panting in a corner? Are you going to be proclaiming this to be the record of the year come Christmas? Initially, it must be said, ‘Made In The Dark’ excites and intrigues just as much as it settles your synapses into recline mode. For those of you still convinced that ‘Over And Over’ is the full extent of Hot Chip’s range, we draw your attention to ‘Touch Too Much,’ the title track, ‘Whistle For Will’ and I’n The Privacy Of Our Love.’ Eschewing the usual blend of bleeps, squelches and rhythmic patterns, these are organic, piano-led soul songs. It’s within these stripped down, melancholy tunes you explore the very roots of what Hot Chip do. It’s here that crystal clear nuances are all important, and lead even a casual listener to conclude that this is where these boffins’ hearts actually lay: hence their evocative motifs in their electronic music. It’s enlightening in a way that it wasn’t on previous efforts, and it’s possibly an indication of future endeavours. Unfortunately it has to be said that what Hot Chip offer here is neither the spectral shock of The Knife nor the emphatic genre-sniping of LCD Soundsystem. Instead they seem to be simultaneously pushing themselves as hard as possible while content to remain more or less the same as before. This is best expressed in ‘Don’t Dance,’ or the undeniably catchy, but overwhelmingly sedate, ‘Ready For The Floor.’ Another oxymoron. But what they lack in true forward thinking, Hot Chip make up for in pure escapism. A slow-burning electronic love song about wrestling. An ascending, warbling synth slalom with deadpan, digi-vocals on Bendable, Posable. It’s not groundbreaking but it is a vital injection of fun. In the end, which is more important? The drawback is this. While we at Notion don’t expect artists to push on leaps and bounds in a couple of years, it’s still tricky to really compliment this as a worthy third album when Hot Chip’s contemporaries, such as James Murphy, are being heralded as boundary-defying, ‘Best of the Year’ rated artists. Hot Chip have performed admirably and extensively within their own framework and so they should - limitations are best explored before moving on. There are swathes of layers to paddle in and that in itself will provide a highly entertaining and lengthy listen, at least. However, where ‘The Warning’ was a defibrillator jolt to the waning indie-dance heart, this is a mild stimulant while in the grip of a certain silver sound. It’ll course through veins and leave that pop buzz thudding in your head for a long time. It might even cause a few flashbacks in a few years time. But it won’t be a brand new experience, and that might leave a bitter taste in the mouth. Fiercely laid back. Passionately soothing. Pushing familiar boundaries. ‘Made In The Dark’ is all this and more, infuriating as much as it invigorates. The stealth impact made here is plain to see – like an invisible infection with highly visible symptoms – and the pandemic is on its way. Whether it’s advanced enough to take permanent hold is another consideration. While willing to say no, it’s fair to say that this writer, at least, is casually addicted. BB

tags: | hot chip | more...

Indie 'Post-punk' Heavyweights

Inches (Reissue)

French Kiss Records

Indie 'Post-punk' Heavyweights

You have to be skeptical of reissues, what, with record labels trying to cash in on the popularity of a band; rushing to release their back catalogue before the hyperbole settles. However, this doesn’t ring true for the reissue of Les Savy Fav's singles collection ‘Inches’, despite the bands mounting popularity. You see, ‘Inches’ has never been released in the UK except on import. Interestingly, the album was conceived before the band had actually recorded any albums at all. The plan was to release eight singles on eight different record labels, with different art work for each one. The idea being that when all eight were collected they’d go together like a jigsaw puzzle; no surprise then that the four key members of LSF met at art school. The album contains seventeen songs and one dramatic reading; with rarely a bum note throughout. Inches showcases how LSF have grown as a band, but still have a cohesive, sonic identity; their own image and own distinct sound. This is thanks, in no small part, to Seth Jarbour's guitar work; instantly catchy hooks and riffs layered on delicate squalls of sound. The muscular rhythm section, Harrison Haynes on drums and Syd Butler on bass, more than puts the groove into each track, all of which appear to be dancefloor fillers despite a razor sharp post-punk edge. There are standout tracks throughout. Live favourite 'The Sweat Descends' is an ode to partying, whilst 'One Way Widow' contains the awesome acapella intro "She was sweet sixteen baby beauty queen / straight white teeth bathed in beauty cream". Impressive shit. Tim Harrington's lyrical inventiveness is sure to impress anyone sick of hearing run-of-the-mill odes about pubbing with their mates or crying over lost loves. More than a showcase for their many talents, ‘Inches’ displays the heart, soul and very core of a band doing whatever they damn well please.

tags: | les savy fav | more...

Techno for the 'Deeper Listener'

Boogybytes Vol.04

Techno for the 'Deeper Listener'

Previous outings on Bpitch’s excellent ‘Boogybytes’ series have given label mates Kiki, Sasha Funke and Modeselektor an opportunity to show off their record collections, whilst keeping in line with the Berlin label’s techno roots and ideology. It was only a matter of time before founder and label boss, Ellen Allien stepped up to the hair dryer for the obligatory wonky headshot cover art, to showcase what’s hot in Berlin right now. Anyone familiar with Allien’s DJ sets will see no great surprises in the tracklisting, which features well-knowns from the BPitch roster, a couple of newcomers and also minimal regulars AGF, Villalobos and Damien Schwartz. Subtly mixed as always and dropping everything from sub-aquatic rhythms to organic melodic bleeps with highlights being the inclusion of newer artists’ Melon and Lucio Aquilina. As you would expect, Villalobos, Sasha Funke and AGF all deliver, and Allien shows her touch rounding off the mix with Little Dragon’s beatless ‘Twice,’ fitting the mood perfectly. Definitely one for the ‘deeper listener’ amongst us, and also an interesting insight into what’s actually good in minimal these days. RC

tags: | ellen allien | more...

Introducing - Foxy Shazam

"The Evil Knievel of Rock 'n' Roll"

I have to tell you; I put off reviewing this album for quite some time... The front cover (see for yourselves) and the name of the band, didn't sit too tight with me; in fact, I felt strangely uncomfortable. I thought the band were going to sound like some sort of cheesy, stadium rock outfit, and for the most part I was proven wrong... Foxy Shazam sound like Meatloaf had he grown up listening to hardcore-punk; all ten Piano/Keyboard driven tracks giving you a desire to stand-up and shake your ass like you’re at a Honky Tonk bar in Memphis. Stand out tracks are 'The Rocketeer' a pretty self explanatory song (it's about the cult comic book hero) which features a fantastic 5-4-3-2-1 countdown chorus and a 'yes yes yes' that has such an irresistible piano riff you’ll want to jump-up and swing dance with everyone on the bus, tube or train; kind of like a scene out of 'Happy Days'. It also shows (again) that they're quite capable of catchy shout along choruses. Foxy Shazam (having listened to the album the name makes perfect sense now) are easily the best new band I've had the pleasure of hearing. One can only hope they'll make it over to England soon, as I'm sure that there live show will be even more thrilling than listening to them on CD. Words: Andrew Devine

tags: | foxy shazam | more...

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