Album Review: The Knife - Shaking The Habitual

Imagine that you come across the Arctic Monkeys album Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not for the first time, not knowing what to expect. Upon first listening you’ll hear songs by some lads with guitars about their lives in a provincial English city – nightclub bouncers, fragile relationships. You might love it, you might hate it, but its context allows the listener to pick up the album’s setting without fuss.

Now imagine that you find yourself in a haunted house on a strange planet where a cackling witch holds court about feminism, economics and ecology while her brother throws a selection of percussion instruments around the room. After a while the two musicians get bored of this and head outside for more of the same. Then they come back inside and carry on. Something else altogether, but close to the experience that is ‘Shaking The Habitual’.

Swedish duo The Knife, reunited after both embarking on well-received solo projects, are at their bonkers best on the album’s uncompromising dance tracks – ‘Without You My Life Would Be Boring’ and ‘Networking’, bringing to mind electrons bouncing around the world’s wires. ‘Stay Out Here’ is a masterpiece in song structure, with both siblings’ interwoven vocals coming together to with fantastic energy.

It is unfortunate that the lengthy soundscapes, including the monumental ‘Old Dreams Waiting To Be Realized’ fall flat, instead relying on sheer duration for their impact: this is music to be endured rather than explored. ‘Raging Lung’ provides the ideal counterpoint. A sound akin to a gutsier Portishead, with emotionally charged vocals, and brass stabs splashed over the score, it is a rare moment of light showing how rich, strange and brilliant The Knife’s music can be.

Originally published at HI! Magazine.

Album Review: Brandt Brauer Frick - Miami

Not a Berlin firm of industrial designers but, in their own words, creators of ‘acoustic techno’, Brandt Brauer Frick occupy somewhere between Mike Oldfield and the Chemical Brothers, making dance music with orchestral instruments where harps, trombones and violins find their way into densely constructed drum patterns. Their approach stands out in the sometimes tired landscape of DJs on decks.

The classically-trained trio have moved away from the rigid minimalism of their work so far – according to Daniel Brandt, “With the first record we always thought a DJ must be able to mix this. But at some point we became bored with that approach, that formula of things slowly coming together. Also the experience of playing so many gigs in the last years changed our way of making music a lot.” Whilst the ‘no machines’ philosophy has been retained, the highly intricate beats are of drum-machine precision and it’s easy to forget that every note on this album was hammered out by a real-life musician.

Miami is presented as a film, with a weighty, brooding ‘Theme’ and pacey, dramatic ‘End Titles’ as the opening and closing tracks, but it’s about a version of Miami, not necessarily the real one; the group reject any literal meaning in the title. A selection of guest vocalists add colour to the relentless percussion, most notably Frank Ocean’s producer Om’Mas Keith, whose growled lines are sliced up and stacked multiple times on the single ‘Plastic Like Your Mother’. Besides hip-hop, there is a prominent jazz influence through Jamie Lidell’s gutsy, soulful vocals on ‘Broken Pieces’, and in the piano and insistent plucked strings which jockey for position on ‘Ocean Drive’.

‘Verwahrlosung’ takes an absorbing route from busy Hot Chip rhythms to an isolated repeated instrumental phrase. The jaunty feel here and on ‘Skiffle It Up’ contrast sharply with the sinister atmosphere of the Kraftwerkesque ‘Fantasie Mädchen’, and the tumbling piano chords and electronic freakouts as the ‘End Titles’ play out leave the listener unsure whether Brandt Brauer Frick are men or musical machines.

Originally published at HI! Magazine.

Retro Review: The Streets - Original Pirate Material

As part of HI! Magazine's Retro Review series, I've cast an eye back to The Streets' 2002 debut album Original Pirate Material. Read all about it here.

Album Review: Hot Chip - In Our Heads

At a time where genres are less rigid and less relevant than ever, the latest album by five awkward-looking men and their synths will appeal to many - In Our Heads is accessible without compromising on intelligence. The record begins with a disorientating combination of pitch-bent synthesisers and mad brass on ‘Motion Sickness’. ‘How Do You Do’ has a studious introduction thrown off-balance by sunny vocals plundered from Take That and a playful break section. ‘Don’t Deny Your Heart’ is another upbeat track with naively glossy synths and an MGMT-esque chorus. It contrasts completely with the slow soul on ‘Look at Where We Are’, where each line of the chorus slots beautifully into the next.

The second half of the album develops a more intimate, end-of-the night feel; ‘Flutes’ is an incredible track, moving into classic trance and feeling divorced from the dancefloor before the “One day you might realise/that you need to open your eyes” refrain. Now and again the lyrics lack inspiration - ‘Let Me Be Him’ being a notably weak spot, and the group should have managed better than the anthemic chorus here which sounds like The Killers with a drum machine. Despite this, the following passage of glockenspiel and birdsong is exquisite, as are the jangly piano and bluesy guitar echoes which wash perfectly out of the speakers, and provide a musical link to Joe Goddard’s side project The 2 Bears.

The band’s broad range of influences, from David Bowie to Timbaland to mean there is still sufficient variation, from downbeat house - ‘These Chains’ to apocalyptic Casio keyboards on ‘Ends of the Earth’. In Our Heads occasionally sounds derivative, and it’s not a giant leap from their ‘Ready for the Floor’-era work. But even if some of the tracks would have been acceptable in the 80s, it’s worth listening to in 2012.

Album Review: Alt-J - An Awesome Wave

Prince famously changed his name to a symbol. Alt-J started out as one, as their real name is in fact a triangle. The geometry theme runs through their artwork and infiltrates their lyrics: “triangles are my favourite shape, three lines where two points meet” on ‘Tessellate’. Although this sounds like a gimmick, Alt-J can be forgiven - An Awesome Wave has been met by a tide of praise which is completely deserved.

From the first softly shifting chords and ticking percussion in the ‘Intro’, there is a quiet intensity to the band’s sound. The theme is echoed later on the sombre yet lyrical ‘Matilda’. ‘Breezeblocks’ is a rare burst into a rockier style, but this is about as aggressive as it gets. There’s a sense that this is not a singer-and-others setup, rather a partnership of equals. Such an arrangement suits Joe Newman’s unique and understated voice which is complemented by the intricate harmonies, whilst Gus Unger-Hamilton’s shimmering piano arpeggiation on ‘Something Good’ is the closest thing to an ostentatious guitar solo. ‘Ms’ is beautifully austere, particularly when the subtle drumming and guitar fall away to expose the vocals, and the tumbling rhythms on ‘Bloodflood’ challenge the ear.

They resist comparisons to other bands, claiming that if they were too similar to anyone else they “wouldn’t be doing their job”. So many different sounds emerge on the album, from the close-harmony chants which open ‘Fitzpleasure’ to rumbling bass drones on ‘Dissolve Me’, that it’s impossible to fit An Awesome Waveinto a genre-shaped box. The polyphonic soundscapes of Mike Oldfield are the closest musical reference point, but such a comparison fails to appreciate that in crafting such an distinctive sound, Alt-J haven’t forgotten to make great music at the same time. 

Originally published at Dale & Co.

Album Review: Holy State - Electric Picture Palace

Holy State apparently spent three years working on (in their words) the “honest songs” on Electric Picture Palace. Perhaps they got fed up with each other or maybe they ran out of ideas, for despite many recent gigs and a promising 2009 EP, the band announced their split before the album’s release and cut back their tour. That aside, the band have emerged from the currently fertile territory of Leeds with an urgent, unapologetic punk sound - then used it in spades on a series of shouty, concise tracks. The punk ethos is evident as all the tracks clock in under four minutes, giving the album energetic pace throughout.

‘Ride’ and the desolate title track set the tone for the album, driven by frantic drumrolls and chugging guitars. Single ‘Dial M for Monolith’ continues the aggressive style of the first two tracks, mimicking Kurt Cobain on the doomy vocals; the snarling lyrics in the darker yet slightly more tuneful ‘Sultan of Sentiment’ riff on love songs and shallow emotion. ‘Brain Caves’ initially suggests variety with a wailing trumpet note, but soon turns out to be another onslaught – it’s still full-on, but the instrumentation becomes more lively, with heaps of discordance and spiky guitars and brass again at the end.

Halfway through the album (once you’ve turned the LP over - there’s no CD release) ‘Lady Magika’ turns down the noise, with melodic vocals and guitars and sparser percussion, and writing in the style of Arctic Monkeys - “you had a clear vision/vanished like an apparition”. It’s followed by ‘Love Tames The Wild’ which is similarly well-developed. For the remainder of the record, Holy State turn back to punk, apart from the brilliant diversion of ‘The Ego Raiser’, an XX-style instrumental break. These tracks show off the band’s talents to greater effect, but the relative similarity of the other tracks forces Electric Picture Palace into love-or-hate territory.

Originally published at Dale & Co.

Album Review: Orbital - Wonky

Starting out at 1980s raves in the Home Counties, dance veterans Orbital have survived big beat, the Criminal Justice Bill, several Glastonbury appearances and Ibiza superclubs and they’re still going. In over two decades their sound has evolved but always maintained the free-thinking spirit of their early work; they were also one of the first dance acts to regularly perform live. Now the Hartnoll brothers and their trademark torch glasses have returned with their eighth album after a few years working independently. The title is somewhat naff - but the music merits attention and draws richly on the duo’s past glories.

“Stringy Acid” picks up perfectly from “One Perfect Sunrise”, the final track on the Blue Album released eight years ago - it’s a huge shot of euphoria which will go down brilliantly at the band’s festival appearances this summer. It collapses abruptly into the next track “Beezledub” - here even Orbital aren’t immune from the current dubstep pandemic but it suits as a knowing follow-up to Satan, one of their first and now most famous tracks. However the screeching synths and the percussion breakdown remain in Chemical Brothers or Prodigy territory, rather than Skrillex.

There are weak moments - “Never” sounds pretty at first yet remains frustratingly vague - it lacks the clarity of purpose and sounds like someone impersonating Orbital; and title track “Wonky” is headache-inducing and isn’t helped by the feisty vocal contributions of Lady Leshurr.

“Distractions” is stunning bleepy, spacey techno with lurching synths and lush vocals. The thoughtful New Order-style rhythm underpinning single “New France” complements the soulful vocals by guest Zola Jesus well. Final track “Where Is It Going?” shifts between fluid and harsher, angular techno moods but never loses its way. The familiarity is in fact welcome and despite a few questionable patches, Orbital prove that they still know what they’re doing.

Originally published at Dale & Co.

Album Review: Fanfarlo - Rooms Filled With Light

Who are Fanfarlo? In 2006 they were a duo - Simon Balthazar and Giles J Davis - but the lineup has changed several times since. Davis left and Balthazar went on to accumulate a talented bunch of multi-instrumentalists for Reservoir, the band's self-released 2009 debut. Three years later they’re back with Rooms Filled With Light, which is part post-punk, part indie-pop, part almost everything, but is mostly incredibly enjoyable.

There’s a sense throughout the album that the band had big smiles on their faces recording these expansive, layered soundscapes. It begins with the urgent Replicate, alternating between spiky strings and keyboard sections and an insistent, more lyrical chorus. Deconstruction is earnest pop inspired by A-ha or the Human League, and it’s hard not to like the optimistic lyrics “it comes together again somehow”. Lenslife threatens to become something Belle and Sebastian would dismiss as too twee but it’s rescued by the punchy chorus. The track ends unexpectedly with languid sliding violin work by Cathy Lucas.

Fanfarlo are perhaps anxious not to appear too clever - despite tracks titled Replicate and Tunguska (referencing a meteoroid strike in Siberia). They give the game away halfway through the album on the short instrumental Everything Turns, a mesmerising piano and glockenspiel composition in the same vein as math-rockers Battles.

The sunshine peaks on Tightrope, a busy collage of playful harp runs, trumpet breaks, upbeat vocals, and then, in case you thought things were getting boring, an apocalyptic burst of orchestral chaos that could have been heard on A Day in the Life. Feathers has a similarly upbeat carnival atmosphere. Straight after comes Bones, a breather after the frenzy of the previous tracks. Here, as well as on the religious A Flood, there is more generous exposure for Baltazar’s vocals in the style of The Killers’ Brandon Flowers.

The songs here are catchy enough to provide instant enjoyment and the deployment of so many instruments means there are further delights to be found on repeated listening - Rooms Filled With Light is a fantastic combination of beauty and brains.

Originally published at Dale & Co.

Album Review: Tribes - Baby

Baby is an assured first album from Camden four-piece Tribes, who wear their influences on their sleeves but come up with an exhilarating record revealing an unexpected maturity. Formed in 2010, Tribes have opened for the Pixies and steadily gained attention on the summer festival circuit last year.

Much of the album is a lively mixture of walls of grunge guitar, Britpop-style singalong choruses, distortion, and splashes of bluesy Americana. Halfway Home and Nightdriving are cool counterpoints in a more introspective style, underpinned with just enough of Miguel Demelo’s drumming.

Single Sappho, with a nod to Queen, showcases the lyrical depth found throughout the album, with intimate whispering vocals which smoulder and build to a classic rock’n’roll chorus. However the standout track is Nightdriving, in which a hypnotic guitar rhythm and talk radio samples, and lead singer Johnny Lloyd’s plaintive chant “What use is God if you can’t see him/What use are friends if they don’t want in?” create an ominous mood of self-doubt. Alone Or With Friends starts in a shoegazer style before bringing in gorgeous vocal harmonies, crashing drums borrowed from Oasis, and sun-drenched drones.

We’ve been here before with the Strokes, Arctic Monkeys, and the Vaccines only a couple of years ago - with dance and R&B acts dominating the charts, Tribes have been declared the saviours of guitar music by NME. On We Were Children, they sing “we were children in the mid-Nineties”; while it’s clear what they listened to at the time, this debut, although heavy on the anthemic choruses and grunge revival, could just inspire a generation bored of Adele and Ed Sheeran to pick up a guitar.

Originally published at Dale & Co.