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This is not fake DIY, Tommy P Peterson and Steven W Lake performing lo-fi, ramshackle glam rock pops on ‘Time Time Time’ but then following it up with the warmy and hearty ‘Too Much Time’ and Pere Ubu/Snap Ant snakiness ‘Lisa’s Gotta Have It’. There’s a comedically earnest ode to kicking Christopher Walken’s arse, an Edwardian electro diary entry (‘Short Story’) and also clinky pre-psych patter-pop (‘Summer Sun’). A Gregorian outro rounds off a varied, da-da-skirting set of off-kilter treats. Skif. www.aeline.co.uk
A collaboration between song-writer Adam Ritchie and producer Alex Mandavi. ‘Stand Up (Get Down)’ shuffles like Happy Mondays rising after an all-nighter. ‘Sometimes Sunday Blue’ has a director, more rinkier and dinkier spin. ‘It’s Me Against The World’s breathy-psyche writhes, sitar-like while ‘England’ is a sweep of Duran Duran–like romantic pop. Bill Hicks is sampled on ‘Urbania’s ambient seagull-flap, while ‘Talk2Me’ is breezy pop-music that certainly doesn’t attempt to insult the ear. This is a confident, far-reaching LP that explores the possibilities of a fairly mainstream sound. Quite successfully too. Skif
From his home in Sweden, Anthony Harding journeyed to Bologna to record this debut studio LP at Alpha Airbase. The songs have an in-a-woodland-shed feel, a bit like James Yorkston, but with a heartbreaking, cheeky, nerdy scampishness reminiscent of Hefner. These are plaintive, tender tunes utulising a number of instruments, most played by Ant himself. Tiny tunes led largely by a piano and filled up with a big heart. Lo-fi in spirit but hi-fi in emotive ambition, the delicate organ of ‘Heading Home’ is the ideal highpoint on which to end. Skif
While the bands name and titles (‘Falling Sky’, ‘Hollow Girl’, ‘A Tangle Of Scars’) hint at a depressing 46 minutes ahead of me, nothing could be further from the truth and while it’s not exactly party central the 12 tracks on offer here are exquisite pieces of music that shimmer and flutter in dark tones while siren like vocals wash over the white horse crests before being drawn back to the deep. It puts me in mind of All About Eve at their darkest especially as vocalist Erin Welton has that same kind of powerful but angelic delivery. What is interesting to note about this fine album is that it was created by just two people (the other being Scott Ferrell) and that no keyboards were used so all the tantalising soundscapes were created using only guitars and rhythmic accompaniment to quite stunning effect resulting in a truly beautiful album. Grebo
Born in Pakistan, and from a liberal Muslim background, Babar has been in the UK since the age of 8 and, up til now, has been best known for his bass work with cult ska-punkers King Prawn. This debut solo record captures a multitude of flavours from his past and present, adopting a world-folk position that offers glimpses to the Clash, Public Image Ltd., Asian Dub Foundation, Earl Sixteen and Billy Bragg. Tunes like ‘Raj Kapoor & Nargis’ handle the reggae-rhythm with a sway that also has a hint of the sea. This is entirely appropriate as Babar is a contemporary troubadour looking at everything from the outside in. This record is spiritual alright, but with a Cockney bar-room pianah patter. Skif
The label of post rock has become lately synonymous with the tiring comparison to Godspeed, Explosions in the Sky or Mogwai. Luckily, once in a while comes an album that recovers this definition in its wider sense. Such is the case of ‘October Language’, which may sound at first as a pack of feedback and other forms of brutal distorted noise. Obviously, with each listening, this demanding album reveals more depth and soul. And so tracks like ‘I never lose. Really really’ turns into an uplifting and purifying experience, ‘October language’ demonstrates the duo’s capacity to play with melodic structures, that may bring to mind the work of Stafrænn Hákon, and ‘All equal now’ makes use of electronic bleeps while attempting to softly saw into your brain. At times it may seem inaccessible, but definitely worth a listen. Dubflower
Since finishing the Big Eyes band dynamic, David Jaycock and James Green have, instead, been experimenting with classical/folk arrangements, roping in friends and artists they hold in high esteem, for example James Yorkston, Suzy Mangion (George) and Jeremy Barnes. The results, 4 years in the making, are captured in this 29 track, 78 minute record that soothes, wheezes, twinkles, tickles, flutters, gibbers, cascades, cycles, haunts, bristles, weebles and drones. Spatially aware, this record is in no hurry to unfurl its colourful patchwork wings. It has the calm of the very best post-rock, while tracks like ‘Owlet Moth’ an itchy approximation of glitch. Largely though these tracks sound like river recordings from a downstream meander, the sound of seagulls on ‘Tresaith’ entirely apt. Skif
Solo project from Nasser Bouzida of Big Boss Man, this record contains no samples but plenty of enigmatic funk driven on by the disciplined bongo-wrangling. This LP has an ambience, a delicious, delicate soul slow. Smooth, yet with a mysterious, Machiavellian cool. Skif
Zane Lowe often waxes lyrical with the more robust and frenetic outfits of the modern indie genre, so it may surprise you to discover that The Breaks Co-op prefer to tread the slow and dusty end of this market. Most of the numbers tend to grow from a laid back and reaching percussion based grounding, such as that in ‘Wonder’. Andy Lovegrove’s mid-tempo folk with a undertone of soul vocals lends some hearty longing to the likes of ‘Settle Down’, to proffer a mundane touch. A Four Tet styled art/spacey experiment centres on ‘A Question Of Freedom’ and ‘Ima’ to make this outfit an epicentre of bold musical openness and broadness. The Breaks Co-op have planted a seed of discovery with this album and it is surely only going to grow and grow. David Adair
Why is it that the best rock n roll bands seem to come from the North of England? Buzzkill have emerged from Leeds with a full on rock sound that would sound good with just the usual guitars/drums/bass but they have added sax and trumpet into the mix with astounding results and it makes this album stand out just that little bit extra. The closest band I can compare them to is the mighty Goldblade for tunes and attitude but add some of the heaviness of someone like DTX or Sunlounger for that dirty rock feel; this is real low slung grubbiness of the highest order to be listened to while getting a tattoo and then wasted on whiskey and whatever takes your fancy, pure rock n roll. Grebo. www.buzzkill.org.uk
“I’ve lived in bars / And danced on tables”, sings Chan Marshall on ‘Lived In Bars’, and you can well believe it. It’s easy to imagine her stunning voice – rich, husky, languid –floating through the smoky fug of an underground drinking den in the small hours. That voice is the undoubted star of the show, and Marshall’s backing musicians – on this outing, some of Memphis’s finest – understand that, providing perfectly understated accompaniment. It’s the little touches that thrill – the gentle and recurrent trumpet in ‘Willie’, the whistling in ‘After It All’. Best of all, though, is ‘Where Is My Love?’, a gorgeously weightless tale of yearning in the same vein as Nick Cave’s ‘Love Letter’. So, to those who urged me to investigate Cat Power: you were right. And to those who didn’t: why not? What we need now, Ms Marshall, is an album of duets with Mark Lanegan… Ben Woolhead
The dryness of Charlie Parr’s singing voice has the raw of the Dust Bowl about it, while he looks every inch the hobo troubadour. So easily does he fit into the history of the blues, of Harry Smith’s folk anthology, of more genuine forms of country music, that it is not easy to discern his arrangements from this compositions. You can picture spit and sawdust in the ring of his slide guitaring while there is an iconoclastic squall in his treatment of ‘Samson and Delilah’. In his own work, there is earthy, mesmerizing banjo-picking and a sense of ragtime exuberance. Charlie Parr is one of the finest contemporary blues men around. Skif
The German duo who helped instigate ‘electroclash’ return after a six year absence. This is a dark, seedy, electro-house album with a vocal performance that gives Johnny Cash a run for his money in the gravel stakes. The reflective, soft guitar strumming ‘Better Times’ is a real sharp turn, given the context, but it works, as does the Ian Dury cover (‘Inspiration.’) Leon Michael Tricker
A single voice that brings to mind Paul McCartney and, indeed, there is something a bit latter-day Beatles, maybe Wings, about these tunes for guitar and piano. A light AOR psychedelia and a delicate strum backing a vocal that appears to emit from a melancholic, weary sprite. This is gentle, twee, warm, impish acoustic pop brought alive by subtle orchestration. Skif
Hyped by the Melody Maker for a few moments of the mid 90’s, DOTR have outlasted plenty of their contemporaries of that time to plough their own stubbornly skewed furrow up to this 5th LP. It’s kind of zig-zag wanderin’ but without too many jagged edges, a touch more liquid, kind of rustically experimental. “Went to a toga party, dressed as a nun” is one example of their occasionally Dali-esque approach to lyricality. Kinda psychedelic, they are however down-to-earth and unpretentious ‘Blue Bugle’s colliery-band interlude speaks volumes. Aside from the assured musicianship that does well to reign in potential chaos, is Paul Vickers’ harshly grazed vocal chords barking throughout, most effectively on ‘Warp Flows’. Elsewhere ‘Liquor Lagoon’ and ‘Fix The Air’ drop acid on bar-room c&w while ‘Little Driver’ features some exciting guitar interactions. Perhaps not their finest hour, but a distinguished and eccentric LP to add to their healthy list. Skif
Their 4th LP, Dilated Peoples are newish to the VP radar but then hip-hop has never been an area of strength. One thing we do know though is when a track makes an instant impression, and single ‘Back Again’ had just that with its roll and spin back rhythms. It makes an equally good second impression. They utilise the sped-up vocal sample technique on ‘You Can’t Hide, You Can’t Run’, layering that and strong rap interplay over light soul piano. A ragga growl beefs up the ‘Firepower (The Tables Have To Turn)’ while ‘Alarm Clock Music’ is a self-referential siren. Tunes like ‘Satellite Radio’ are less impressive but this is an inventive collection in the most part, for example, ‘Olde English’ swings on a brooding demi-gothic synth skimmer, Talib Kweli assists in making ‘Kindness For Weakness’ a strong scratch/soul number, while ‘The Eyes Have It’ has a lollipop melody hook courtesy an ornate flute sample. Skif
Songs influenced by the political and LA party scene landscapes. Dusty Sound System has a circus –lef-town melancholy running through its countrified folkism. This is an ambient album of tunes for a scorched American plain. ‘I’m A Soldier’ particularly beautiful with the addition of the backing vocals of Piney Gir and Cat Martino. Skif
This half hour LP makes an immediate impact with the perfectly titled ‘First Rush’ which rips coherently through a storm of glitch attacking from the sides. ‘Boy Don’t Bother’ doesn’t have the pizzazz of its single remix but the jabbed synth squeal remains beguiling. ‘Over and Over’ has a Pipas/Peggy Lee smokey sway, ‘Wicked Girl’ has an otherworldly Neulander twitch while the title track captures gritty rock n’ roll in a Kills-like two-hander style. ‘Bubblewrapped’ is often a twee electro hustle, using the cutesy distraction to steal your wallet and make an imprint of your housekeys on a bar of soap. Skif
Collaborative effort from Ian Read and Ken Gibson, the latter of Eight Frozen Modules. The synth tune of opener ‘Abandonment’ is slightly misleading as for the majority of the ten tracks we are in IDM style drum ‘n’ bass territory. The exceptions are tracks 5, 6 and 9 which are glitchy/bleepy. As good as the acid heavy tracks are it is the less hectic songs such as ‘Too Many Gringos Moving to the Neighbourhood’, which stand out from the crowd. Leon Michael Tricker
A new LP to follow up 2003’s ‘I Dream And Visions’. Caustic, Pavement-like alt-rock fires brilliantly chunky tunes like ‘Rad Wagon’ with ‘Tread On Flowers Pt. 1’ peeling back a decade to the defiantly lo-fi C96 brethren. The ambitious ‘Mary IV’ starts out with a country teaser that unfurls itself into a slow-burn psyche-drone vista. Tunes like ‘Hanging Crowds’ have a thick, harmonic treacle from within which the guitars shimmer. Meanwhile, ‘Conan: The College Years’ is a dark, wispy mantra while ‘Something New’ burns a thin folk candle. ‘Phantasmagoria’ sways, flickers and builds with gathering ferociousness, ‘Tread On Flowers Pt. 2’ does similar but with more acidic bile in its distortion. Skif
‘Wolf Creek’, a true crime thriller about abducted backpackers in Australia, is a film that tries to tell a story of sheer terror. François Tétaz’ soundtrack errs on the side of not sign-posting too much, allowing the emotions of the characters to ride on hair-prickling austere drones, mournful strings and deadly piano. All the while, a nocturnal Aboriginal hum slithers beneath each piece. Skif
‘Good Morning’ opens this LP with a hefty thump that captures the yabber of the contentedly perky and the equally contentedly tired, an operatic vocal sweep and hip-hop asides above the heavy beat. ‘Not Clean’ belches out some sharp ripostes on religion and the Cod War, all tied neatly together by Mark E. Smith’s most bonkers guest appearance to date. Insurgence on a dadaist scale. This LP is impish but explosive, a stubborn electro book club for free thinkers who ain’t slept in a while. ‘Green Lounge’ has Bond-esque spy poise, but then forces him to gargle on jazz. Never has jutting electro quirk been more ferocious. Skif
A lengthy overview of Hefner’s output: nerdish, but cocky; downbeat, but cheeky. Henfer country is a place where politics is worn all down the sleeves (and your grave-dancing shoes on ‘The Day That Thatcher Dies’). Braggisms pop out of some of their chords (‘Christian Girls’), while there are truly brilliant tunes such as ‘Hello Kitten’ and ‘When Angels Play Their Drum Machines’, the latter advancing them towards an electronic pulse, where they make it seem effortless. Theirs is a twee approach, but with a bite that’ll take a chunk out of your torso, but Darren Hayman makes greater strides towards the heart when his voices strains with emotion. With the genius couplet of ‘Hymn for the Cigarettes’ and ‘Hymn for the Alcohol’ intact, this is an ideal celebration of Hefner’s talents. Skif
Doing the rounds for 8 years, Highroad No. 28 hail from Australia and pop-rock is their standard schtick. They do interesting things with it though, ‘Lollipop Smile’ pushing forward and tracking back, ‘To The Heavens’ having a spacey, psyche-Buggles aspect. ‘In Spite Of It All’ toughens them up, playing further down the rock straight; ‘Laughter’ a chunky metal eclipse, ‘1000+ Faces’ morphing into a psyche squall. Skif
The gentle fire-side melancholia of ‘We’re Good People But Why Don’t We Show It’ opens this record, showcasing a quiet strum and a voice that manages to take both the rough and the smooth. ‘Up With The Birds’ floats on a gorgeous harmony and the subtle underlying tweaks beneath the strum. Earthy in the very best Will Oldham sense, breathing out her innocent hum into a twilight mist. This is how to do the acoustic singer-songwriter thing. Skif
Like Charlie Parr, Jack Rose picks at a blues lineage that comes from Harry Smith’s Anthology through John Fahey. This is not so much rustic though, as decadent twelve-string playing. The sound is like aplethora of string lights twinkling, turning in a gentle breeze. A thousand personal histories come out in his picking. There are no vocals, but this allows the attention, correctly, to be paid to the delicacy of the guitar work. Skif
Jaed are a 3-piece outfit put together in the UK by Melbournian Vanessa Eve. They skate through cardboard boxes and into a gymnastic forward roll on ‘Catherine’ while ‘My Way’ fits into a more grimy Hole-like stun-punk radio rock thing. ‘Gutter Girl’ recalls Veruca Salt spite, Juliana Hatfield and Bellyisms tempering their bile. ‘Dream Hair’ explores more stodgy Lavigne-esque pop-rock territory but it is a mere distraction in a peppy debut LP. Skif
Special limited edition live version of their classic album with all money going to Homeless charities around the world, recorded in 2004 for a radio session where old albums are revisited live. It’s a decent run through the concept album that sold over a million copies back in 1971 and one can just picture Ian Anderson playing his flute while balancing on one leg in full progressive folk glory. The musicianship is spot on and any fan of the original album will enjoy this run through and if I’m not mistaken they have now taken the album out on tour so a chance to get to see them do it for real. Grebo
Not strictly speaking a Masters of Disguise LP, but one which main man Lefteris Moumtzis recorded prior to getting the band together. The purpose of the formation was to give life to Mountzis’ music, but instead took a life of its own. This LP, then, shows up his original vision. ‘Smoking In The Bathtub’ takes gritty ambience and whips it along the neck of a guitar on a bottleneck while the title track, in both parts is snakey and deceptive, twirling and jabbing before oscillating like windscreen wipers on sax. ‘Beautiful Place (There And Back)’ takes us further still, into a Bright Eyes-like acoustic heft that then morphs into a retro-futurist prog mantra. For ‘Warmth’ we are dragged round for a country waltz, while ‘This Hole’ is banjo blues for the bottom of a well. A diverse and intriguing album. Skif
Mostly made up of studio improvisations, this is Julie’s Haircut’s 4th LP but for all its spontaneity, it is a perfectly coherent record occupying similar territory to Oneida and pushing the psyche-rock envelope in the same way. ‘Sister pneumonia’ draws out a kinda sitar hum, ‘Afterdark’ pouding in dramatic style afterward. The foreboding build of ‘Liv Ullman’ and it’s hushed drone coda that merges beautifully into the mirage-ridden, unsettling desert plain of ‘Purple Jewel’. Sonic Boom puts in an appearance for the typical extra-terrestrial twinkle of ‘Ingrid thulin’. A mesmerizing record. Skif
Kid Congo returns with a relatively conventional sounding album. From a man who has flirted down the years with Nick Cave, Foetus and Lydia Lunch this is a surprise, although rarely a disappointment. The vocal delivery and lyrical observations are pure Lou Reed, while the likes of ‘La Historia De Un Amour’ hint at wilder excesses being reigned in: witness the backwards guitar sounds and latin percussion. This kind of control is impressive and directly benefits structured music. In the main this album has a soul swagger shot through with angular no-wave guitar, but the highlight is ‘The Weather The War’ which summons up the soundscape from some long forgotten Western movie. Highly recommended. Leon Michael Tricker
Side project of Henry Collins, aka Shitmat, although this is not so impenetrably gonzo of his usual mentalist breakcore. This is, instead, as warm as glitch can ever be, telling sonic tales of the Norfolk village in which he grew up. Pieces like ‘Pebbletron’ are gentle in their flickery while ‘Pilgrim Rise’ is beguiling as it toys around with a jaunty jig. As an LP it glimmers, slides, cradles, pinches your cheek and waggles your youthful mush. ‘High Speed Dubbin’’ chock-a-blocks around a desolate science lab, while ‘Grand Coulee Dam’ gives Guthrie a whisk and spin. There is hint of KLF’s ‘Chill Out’ on ‘Discontinue This Boil Treatment On The Quiet’ while ‘Peg Bag Mist’ rolls like Darren Emerson out of a duvet and onto tin tacks. Skif
Lo-Fi disco punk from NYC duo produced by man of taste John Fryer and released on his own STLT label. Trashy drum machines clash with even cheaper guitars and a pile of synth lines nicked from classic Numan/Human League and is plastered in bad make up, plied with alcohol and dragged down your local seedy goth/electro club. The 15 tracks are a spectacular mash up of punk pogo attitude and disco beats with lyrics that will make you either smile or want to smack them in the face, just check out Goth Girls that appeared on a single with the ‘Goth Girls give good head’ chorus and the White Rapper Riot observations along with Pretending To Be Gay to get some ‘pussy’ and we are talking a band likely to achieve cult status with this release. Probably too close to the bone to cross over into the mainstream and the deliberate lo-fi approach is at odds with the over produced mainstream but these are all plus points for Lips and Sacky and their refreshingly upbeat and carefree disco punk. Grebo
Mad Juana is a collaboration between Sami Yaffa, ex- of Hanoi Rocks, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts and the reformed New York Dolls, and Karmen Guy, former off-off-Broadway absurdist actress. Two highlights occur early on, the gypsy-jazz stomper with torch interludes, ‘Living in Babylon’ leading toward the snakey, swampey strum through ‘Venus In Furs. Elsewhere sunny two-tone brass dips in on ‘Ghost Riddim’. This is a festive record that culminates in the joss-stick burning campfire tune ‘Whatever Hell You Choose’. Skif
Short and haunting, these delicate folk numbers are lifted high upon a strong campfire hum. Using upright bass, cello, banjo, acoustic guitar, clarinet, violin and cello, this trio led by Mark Mandeville records songs as dusty as anything Will Oldham or Iron & Wine can manage but yet the cover, a lone oarsman heading towards an empty horizon captures a lot of the spirit of this LP. Self-sufficiency, the hobo life, Marie Celeste isolation – it’s all here on this sumptuous record. Skif
A New Jersey gent into pop music which favours heavy textures and experimentation. ‘Pretty Sure’ is an ethereal, angelic floating opener, ‘We Are The Ones’ a chirpy, scuzzy alt.pop skipper, while ‘Nudity’ clicks and flips as a cool wind swirls beneath, highlighting how much there is to discover within a single Mike K tune. There are echoes of Smashing Pumpkins, Flaming Lips and Mercury Rev, but Mike K is his own man creating some fascinating slow-burning tuneage. Skif. www.myspace.com/MikeKmusic
Excellent album from Antwerp based Millionaire that will appeal to fans of bands like Queens Of The Stone Age, not least because they have toured with said band but because Queens mainman Josh Homme produced this album and you can feel his influence running through the dark stoner grooves. Paradisiac comes over a little more direct and song based than QOTSA though and is aimed at getting people moving with huge melodies and even bigger riffs that move syrup like around the dark bass lines. A thoroughly enjoyable album even if you do have QOTSA flashing up in your mind at regular intervals. Grebo
Post-rock’s poster boys claiming ‘We’re No Here’, as they do on the final track of their fifth LP proper, is about as convincing as five 6ft 8ins 300 pound men making a similar claim while standing together behind a sapling. One listen to ‘Glasgow Mega Snake’, a stunningly heavy brute that your eardrums will be thankful lasts under four minutes, and you know it’s a lie. But there’s a snag. In deciding to make an album of songs they want to play live, the Glaswegian noisemongers have turned up the volume and (to an extent) turned their backs on the prettiness and poise of ‘Happy Songs…’ and the potential foray into power electronics they’ve tantalisingly hinted at. If ‘We’re No Here’ is disingenuously titled, then opener ‘Auto Rock’ is more honest; ‘Mr Beast’ is occasionally a mechanical treading of water, if still significantly superior to those who cling to their coat-tails. Ben Woolhead
On the face of it, quite charming piano-based pop-rock music, but beneath the twinkling keys and emotive vocals are bursts of athletic, dynamic aggressive guitar to prick the Coldplay-like ambience. They emphatically stroke foreheads while preparing something peculiarly Machiavellian. Athlete and Keane have a contemporary with a touch more muscle behind the torch Supertrampisms. Skif
It came as no surprise that when NME decided they’d tracked down Britain’s answer to The Arcade Fire, the band in question should hail from Glasgow (well, Greenock to be precise). In truth, My Latest Novel are more folky and eccentric than the all-conquering Canadians – and also unmistakably Scottish. Cinematic opener ‘Ghost In The Gutter’ has shades of Godspeed! You Black Emperor before a chorus of voices swims into focus, but other songs evoke fellow Glaswegians like Sons & Daughters, Belle & Sebastian and Arab Strap (‘The Job Mr Kurtz Done’ comes across like the gruesome twosome covering Sufjan Stevens). That’s not to say they don’t have their own originality, though, and the combination of stomping military drumbeats, stirring violins and school choirs is unusual and brilliant. Album centrepiece is remarkable debut single ‘Sister Sneaker, Sister Soul’, which evolves over the course of its six minutes from fey whimsy to thunderous climax. Spellbinding. Ben Woolhead
Like crystalline icicles falling to terra firma, Nalle’s music is haphazard but startling and naturally beautiful. Using kantele, flutes, viola, bouzouki and clarinet they perform an elfin, itinerant avant-gypsy-folk. They sound as though permanently on a hobo path throughout, performing their medieval tring seemingly on the hoof, dancing gaily and pixie-like to enchant. A hint of Stina Nordenstam’s delicateness enwraps Diamanda Galas abrasiveness in Hanna Tuuhikki’s haunting, astonishing vocal. Appearing from hedgerows, skipping and singing in England and Finnish, this is often music of long isolation suddenly set free. Skif
Niall’s inlay shot of him in plaid shirt, fisherman’s cap and sucking on a cigarette sums him up nicely. Unpretentious, homely acoustic music that veers in similar directions to messers Gray and Blunt without being irritating with it. Indeed, there is a candle-lit Dylan-esque waft to his harmonica-infused modern folk. Gentle, easing voice and thoughtful lyrics, despite the autumnal nature of the cover, this is a record for all seasons; bleak midwinter and summer haze caught in an easy strum and the occasional piano flutter. Skif. www.niallquinn.co.uk
Glaring beast communicating with a grazed squawk, circling, beating its chest, its eyes widened to the point where the lids might snap. This beast be ‘Half Past Human’. Not that it isn’t often cute, ‘Toes’ having a cat-like quirky readiness in its electrosquirt. This is a scarred, rumbling LP, kiund of like Oneida in a petulant tantrum. ‘Blood At Both Ends’captures a Machiavellian reflectiveness, ‘Beak As Tool’ plays up to an Add N To (X) electro stubbornness which continues into ‘Wolf (Poof)’. This is a grimy, chimung, angry LP which offers no quarter. Skif
Milky Wimpshake man Pete Dale is an irritable man, an angry man. His songs contain heavy political disquiet (‘Why I Am A Terrorist’), caustic social commentary (‘Saint Bob’, which throws rocks at the Geldhof halo) powered by narratives that are biting in their fractious simplicity. Indeed, while the WImpshake stuff allowed a voice for Dale’s dyed-in-the-wool socialism, this is a much more barefaced collection and the musical nature of this side project allows the lyrics more room to grab attention. Very much in the lineage of Billy Bragg and Woody Guthrie, and a very worthy addition to the North-Eastern folk canon. Skif
A character “born in the notebooks of Cork musician/poet Alan Macfeely,” Rod Stern is a brow-beaten, melancholic, gruff sage, the humour coming from the wordplay and concepts weaved into his liquid monologues. “The Living Sickness” is a post-rock panorama on a country plain, ‘Rod Stern Stomp’ a Cash-like ripper where elsewhere he leaves a trail of disturbing dirty talk. He edgily plays with the limitations of political correctness on ‘Jump Rope Song’ and acerbically puts down any hostility from the audience. Recorded live at the Victoria in Mornington Crescent, a very different, confrontational approach to poetry is topped nicely with the Elvis-gospel tinge of “Chain Of Hands”, which aggressively draws in the audiences participation. Skif
Rosolina Mar pep their new-wave step with a funky jazz pace and a nod to the desert fuelled experimentia of the Magic Band. Vibrant, punchy instrumental indie-rock, expertly crafted post-hardcore rock n’ roll, twisting, turning , driving and even atonal blues ground out on ‘Il cultro del cavo’). Skif
Formed in Kirkcaldy, Fife about a decade ago, and centered around twins Ashley and Grant Campbell and their cousin Emma-Jane, Saint Jude’s Infirmary are out of hibernation and delivering a pretty decent LP. They have that close-knit warmth of George or Low, but fill that out in amongst wrapped-arms, hugging out the emotions. They can also surprise as out of the fireside gospel hand-holding comes an Arab Strap like monologue. It’s quite a hymnal record, riding on a dry mist, but on tunes like ‘All My Rowdy Friends Are Dead’ a fuzz hammer is applied to their message. Skif
How to judge this record? Well, not by its awful title, for starters. Coming from beyond the grave (Six. By Seven having split last summer), the limited-edition Club Sandwich… documents what happened when the remaining members – Chris Olley, James Flower and Chris Davis – invited bassist Ady Fletcher and Spiritualized guitarist Tony Foster to join them in recording some new songs. According to the press release, “it didn’t go exactly as planned”, and the resulting album is described as “a mixture of high quality master recordings, demos and slightly unfinished masterpieces”. Of course, that could be a cop-out, a way of pre-emptively excusing any faults – were there many faults to find (other than with its length – a bit of judicious editing wouldn’t have gone amiss). In many respects it’s better than both of the last two “proper” releases, ‘:04’ and ‘Artists Cannibals Poets Thieves’. ‘Got To Find A Way Out Of Here’, ‘Do You Believe?’ and ‘In My Hell’ are as pounding, aggressive and ear-bleedingly loud as ‘Sailing Around The Horn’ is sweetly melodic. Above all, this does not sound like a band in its death throes. They will be missed. Ben Woolhead
As Anthony H. Wilson states in his press-release, this LP is “an eclectic romp through a variety of idioms including cod-angst, zipcore, alt-cunty and hard trasp.” Perfect. WE’ll add that SDY have all the gluey-spittle Mclusky congealing upon the nose-pick stubbornness of The Fall as well as the modern love junket of garage rock n’ roll sharp-shooting. I am liking ‘I Spy Dry Fear’ as much for its genius title as its militaristic yelp I also like the dub flows of ‘It’s Coming Straight For Us!’ and the way it builds into an outrageous jazz squonk. SDY do expansive and vaguely prog-like in a way that takes me back to the Monsoon Bassoon’s LP, particularly on the title-track. Forget your Artic Monkeys, this is the Sheffield band who know how to be truly inventive with a brutish jangle-angle. Skif
Contemporary lapel-shakers of that there blues, Soledad Brothers have a Flying Burrito’s swagger, a Jagger-strut in their bumpkin shoes. ‘Truth Or Consequences’ goes even further, infusing their 70s rock with skuzzy sax. ‘Downtown Paranoia Blues’ has a sashaying, arrogant gait, while there is something of Bryan Ferry’s suave masculinity in ‘Sweet & Easy’. I remember seeing them live once and there was a quality, a grip if you like to their live performance that, as yet, this has not come across exactly on record. Nonetheless this LP, inspired by one members relationship break-up, gets them closer still to achievening that. Skif
The work of Sophie Michalitsianos who used to make music for TV documentaries and guest with Sparklehorse. Her life has taken her between England, Australia and the US. Her music twinkles like those dreams which aren’t quite day and not quite night, ‘1 2’ itself shimmers with delicate fuzz. The songs are tiny, yearning songs that fit snuggly inside a cotton-wool lined matchbox with the likes of Cocteau Twins, Mazzy Star and Stina Nordenstam. These are gorgeous songs that envelop like friendship, songs of heart with an empathy delivered with a haunting chill and, in tunes like ‘Move’, a deep, terrifying expanse utilizing beats over the atmospheric cello. Skif
On the suggestion of a tour, early last year in Germany, where they would play as an acoustic trio, Spearmint decided to write tunes especially for the tour. This is the result, a collection of gentle strum to accompany their sweet, slightly chilly indie-pop. Not that they rely only on acoustic guitar, reticent drum machines patter away and the electric is put to use. Spoken word gambit ‘The Train’ is most special in its own vaguely sorrowful, but observant way. Skif
Hugely melodic offering from this South Carolina punk quintet, that they have supported Good Charlotte and New Found Glory should tell you all you need to know about this album. Well-produced power punk pop, melodic rock with big choruses to get the kids going mad in the mosh pit while selling a bucket load of t-shirts; having said that it’s a pleasing enough album to listen to but offers little that you can’t get anywhere else but if you want hook laden melodic punk then this is ideal and done very well. Grebo. www.stretcharmstrong.net
The hushed drone of ‘Rise’ follows a similar pattern to the Mastermind theme then peters out amidst break up in their flow. It flickers, rustles and bursts, an ideal introduction to their twitchy post-rock that is both isolated and extrovert. With the drift and twist of ‘Kilgore Lives’ they increasingly bring together psyche-rock and glitchy electronica in addition to the swoop of their crystalline guitar scapes. The oriental dusk of ‘Stars Fell On The Shore’ is a breathtaking highlight. Skif
An LP that pays tribute to producer Jimmy Miller, who was responsible for ‘Beggars Banquet’, ‘Let It Bleed’, ‘Exile On Main Street’ and ‘Sticky Fingers’. Uncle Ray (aka 60’s teen-pop star Ray Singer) is responsible for arranging this set of chilled-soul versions of some of the famous Rolling Stones numbers taken from the LPs listed above, as well as playing most of the instruments. Its not always a success but the bubbling bass on ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’, the smokey flicker of ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash’ and the reggae sway of ‘Play With Fire’. ‘Miss You’ closes the LP, Mel Collins reprising his sax-plahying role from the original. Skif
A new compilation from a new label coming out of Leeds, as so many good things do, I Can Count are dedicated to electronic music from a dancefloor groove to a folktronic bent. They do not limit themselves geographically either, and it shows in a pleasingly diverse collection, which includes: Mica ft. Taz’ soulful itchy rattle; Project New City’s silken pop; Knol Bowie’s deep and earthy, but twinkling, croon; David Sugar’s chipper chipmusic; Kawaii’s gorgeous, slaloming electro-twee; Mickey Charbargz’ whip-clap folkling; Music Video’s glitched-up New Order shuffle; Nut Bros’ jangle-funk beat-box; Pea Green Boat’s flowing, impish techno; Palo Alto’s ambient math-beat; and Emmet’s eager synth ascension. As I say, plenty to keep the ears minty fresh. Skif. www.icancount.co.uk
23 tracks with no musical connection or overall theme is a good or bad idea, depending on who you talk to. Me, I actually like going from the tape-loop experiments of Ultra Milkmaids ‘Ne(m)ver Live’ to the hard hitting electro beat of Eva Hertz & KenII ‘Fuckbuddy.’ It’s the kind of mix ‘n’ mash that made John Peel’s radio shows so compelling. Indeed, as if to further my link between this compilation and the mighty Peel, in the middle of all these tracks is a grindcore number by Shallnotkill. My personal favourite is the Tangerine Dream-esque ‘Set’ by Midwich. Whether such a diverse range of artists is best represented on a CD of so many tracks is, I feel, a point worth considering for others looking to put together such compilations. Leon Michael Tricker
Opening with These Bones take on Britney’s ‘Toxic’ is a bad move. If the band are covering the song in an ironic way then, like, tell them it’s 2006 and that irony was sooooooo last century. If they are covering it because they like the song then, in future, take more care over the track. Interestingly, all the tracks are guitar-based indie-dance affairs, but the CD is mixed like a dance record with no breaks in the songs. Nice idea, and it works well. Predictably, Radio 4 steal the show because they do this kind of music better than anyone else. However, if you are into lo-fi new wave guitar, with a funky, dance infused, and occasionally electro edge, then you can’t go far wrong here. Leon Michael Tricker
Not the sledgehammer of old music hall tunes you might expect from a set of scratchy old 78’s, indeed this is one of the most catholic collections you’ll come across, unified only by the hint of a crisp crackle. Of course, there are some very old school comic turns, but these are smattered around Lightning Hopkins juke-joint blues; haunting colliery brass from the Besses O’ Th’ Barn Band; George Lewis’ New Orleans rag; a South African kwela version of Tom Hark and a shrill Cantonese madrigal. In some cases, like with Freddy Dosh’s series of vehicle and animal impressions, you do wonder how there could have been a market for such a platter. As a novelty record buyer of some years standing though, I guess people would say the same of ‘Star Trekkin’, even then. In short, this is a much more adequate sonic epitaph for Peelie than the more sales-focuses collection released last year. Skif
I’m usually one to avoid tribute albums but in this case I will make an exception, as this is a quite beautiful collection of already breathtaking songs. Featured are tracks by Arcana, Dark Sanctuary, Autumn’s Grey Solace, Faith & The Muse, Black Tape For A Blue Girl, Rajna, Mirabilis, Chandeen, Kobe, Athan Maroulis with Surface 10 and Stoa. It’s hard to pick out individual tracks as all are lovingly crafted but Autumn’s Grey Solace give Musica Eternal a Treasure era Cocteau Twins vibe while the Rajna take of Cantara is simple but potent and explodes with stunning vocals. Elsewhere, the tribal drums that Kobe infuse Bird with conjure up images of far away lands while the album closes with the drifting Cantara covered by Stoa that recalls days of old and mystical journeys. An album to be enjoyed by candlelight with plush cushions to recline on while downing a couple of bottles of good red wine. Grebo
12 Swedish artists tackling ‘What Is Love?’ by fellow Scandinavian Haddaway. Conny open the show with a gritty and ghostly instrumental, well it is until a breathy vocal delivers half a verse near their conclusion. Komon do it with a robotic electro-pop shuffle, while Tommy Eld flickers with beat-friendly lounge. My Enemy gently flail with the most moody of twee, The Mexicos squeal through emotive vocoderisation while Aktion Atopos provide a jolt with their post-apocalyptic calm/storm glitch. All Of My Brother’s Girlfriends take the down-trodden approach favoured by Jeff Lewis while the Bare Knees has more of a Daniel Johnston idiot-savant tweak. Like them, Naimi utilizes the accordion, and she softly wheezes the LP to a close. Skif
Morphing from the American Death Ray to American Death Ray Music to their current moniker on this, their 4th LP, the band mix a candle-flickering dark mass with a thunderous psyche-fuzz and stubborn post-punk repetitive guitar motifs. Rock n’ roll in a Brian Jonestown vein, a particularly slick ‘Same Suit, Different Tie’ a clear highlight, the dub version which follows a further intriguing departure. Skif
‘Easy Does It’: the sound of a vase dropped from about 10 feet, the shards then scuffed and kicked around. Aaron With’s brittle vocals appear in the calming breakdown, piercing the noise as though flailing to escape the grip of angry quicksand. His increasingly frenzied, grazed yelps attack the gaping mouth of the invasive clatter. Now, this is just one song and while the rest of the LP only spasms epileptically, and perhaps appropriately, in fits and starts, it remains just as intense if reigning in on the chaotic. They dip into midnight pond-water reflection (‘$40,000 Plus Interest’), the spooked and frugal (‘Larchmont’s Arrival’) and calm post-rock plains. Like Deerhoof they stop/start in staccato to wrangle a wriggle from their instruments. Skif
Swirling keys all rough abrasive guitars to kick at the base of the Maypole i.e. this LP is as much part of festivity as it is reacting to it. It is jerky, percussive and has a grit and brawn that slightly tips the balance over the nerdish attention to invention that runs throughout the hour. Prog and psyche have been suckled to produce this expansive, menacing LP that has echoes of Mars Volta and Oneida. They also play up an electro element nicely on ‘Dune’. Skif
A throbbing and thudding disco kick coupled with a throaty femme vocal element signals the start of this thrusting debut album, by way of the title track. The cohesion of electronica and guitars has been a recipe for disaster from outfits who just don’t know how to get the blend and feel right, but for this quivering quintet it seems to be their sixth sense. 'Love Is A Number’ succinctly packs a vocal punch and puts affairs of the heart in its place, with the aid of a thumping backbeat and high rising guitars. A splash of blues trickles through the eleven tracks and manifests itself in no small part in the male vocals, most noticeably in ‘Alsation’. The wandering and lovelorn ‘Deborah Cane’ that immediately follows this, gives a great indication of the Norfolk outfit’s ability to switch emotions and tempo. Overall; ‘Kick’ is a mishmash of musical styles spanning the 70s, 80s and 90s to keep you alert and interested. David Adair
4th LP from the Amsterdam quintet. It is a sharp, fizzing record of skuzzy alt.rock dynamite, the brazen, stubborn attitude of pre-‘Ok Computer’ Radiohead coming through. ‘Too Cool To Care’ has a tunnel-pipe post-rock calm, dark splendour. Their music has the deep clouding feel of Joy Division but allied to a genuinely inventive new-form of lo-fi scuzz. ‘There’s One At Every Party’ sways through the battering, whining guitar noise, while ‘Wrong Way Round’ rolling on a melancholic but chiming melody. We’re in Editors/Interpol territory with this, but done with a gritty panache. Skif