If you don’t like Bluegrass then you might as well stop reading now.
Hello…(hello)…(hello). This here internet sure has a mighty big echo when it gets empty. Well, since you’ve stuck around I’ll keep on reviewin’:
If you don’t like Bluegrass then you might as well stop reading now.
Hello…(hello)…(hello). This here internet sure has a mighty big echo when it gets empty. Well, since you’ve stuck around I’ll keep on reviewin’:
Hooting and Hollowing is the latest musical gem from the Wild Beasts. Although the four piece from Kendal still ooze theatrical charisma, the absurdly fantastic quirks that defined their first album are slightly diluted and replaced by mystical guitar echoes, layered arrangements laced with understated funk and a deep bass that punctuates the song.
On first listen to Pocketbooks debut album there is one band name that pops into your head that you fear will be haunting this young group for their whole artistic career. This album sounds so much like Belle & Sebastian you wonder if they would have a leg to stand on if taken to court for plagiarizing by a furious Stuart Murdoch. The vocal tune structure is the biggest give away, rising and falling melodies that continue for longer than groups think to try (maybe this is because B&S made it their own), and that steamroll through each song almost pulling the rest of the instruments with it.
Another year and new legends are born. Which moment will be remember for the longest from this year’s Glastonbury Festival is as impossible to guess as the weather was through this unpredictable June weekend. Neil Young and Bruce Springsteen showed the world that rock stars approaching, or even well into, their sixties can still blow their younger counterparts off the stage, Blur drew tears from everyone as Damon Albarn broke down on stage during the tear jerking classic ‘To The End’ and secret guest appearances from Jack White’s Dead Weather, The Klaxons and even The Boss himself ensured that this would be a year to remember.
“I hate Glastonbury so much, I really do.” Now, as festival gambits go, this is a feisty (if not downright wreckless) one. However, 10 minutes into a Worthy Farm debut marred by sound problems, tetchy stewards and an unresponsive crowd, Slow Club perhaps have the right to be a little miffed. Fortunately, as the set develops, Rebecca’s spikiness serves to cajole the initially apathetic Guardian Lounge crowd to life and lends the songs a feverous energy which, coupled with the pair’s increasing confidence on stage, gets people on their feet. Such is the group’s enthusiasm, that by the time Giving Up On Love has rollocked its way to glorious conclusion even the floating voters have no choice but to get up and boogie. The world is going love Slow Club, or Rebecca is going to have words…
It seems that whenever the economy takes a bad turn electro-pop comes creeping back out of the woodwork. Wave Machines’ debut album ‘Wave If You’re Really There’ is one of many recession-electro releases that we’re to be subjected to this year. Its not all bad news though, this release might just have enough great dance tracks to stand out from the crowd.
Posthumous Success is Tom Brosseau’s eighth album in four years and I have not been able to get it out of my head. A prolific songwriter and performer, as well as a writer of stories and other musings on his blog (tombrosseau.com/blog), the North Dakotan clearly has a lot to say, but his music is remarkably uncluttered and beautiful.
Caught in the middle of great expectations, Dirty Projectors’ new album could have fallen into the overly neurotic avant-garde and polyrhythmic experimentation patterns. It could definitely have happened, considering the Yale intellectual and artsy character of frontman David Longstreth, prone to fidgety, discordant, shrieking echoes and glitchy tunes. Yet, with Bitte Orca, he has managed to make his music approachable but still challenging, violent but still harmonious, tribal but still classical in layers.
Near Legendary indie folk troubadour Cass McCombs delivers another catchy, yet still somehow morbid slice of storytelling with the first single off his fourth album, Catacombs. As the song starts, McCombs voice alone is breathtakingly raw and powerful, sounding particularly dark in contrast to the upbeat music it’s laid over.
There’s a moment that most of us would have to confess to living at least one point in our lives, when it becomes startlingly apparent that you have pushed the boat out too far with the ‘state-altering’ substances. It’s that incredibly uncomfortable moment where you start to feel disconnected from the world going on around you. You feel as though you have been submerged underwater and all sound has become slightly muffled and distant. The night suddenly feels wrong and all the people around you enjoying themselves are monsters. The worst thing is that you know there is no way out, no quick fix answer to bring yourself back from the brink.