Posted: April 23rd, 2009 | Author: Scott | Filed under: Reviews | No Comments »
Brighton four-piece Brakes aren’t a band known for messing around when it comes to the delivery of their albums. Their previous album, 2006’s The Beatific Visions on former label Rough Trade, contained 11 songs and lasted less than half an hour. This time round, with their Fat Cat debut Touchdown, they’ve managed to break the 30 minute barrier by an impressive six minutes and added an extra song.
Whatever the reason for this, it gives Brakes’ albums a strange urgency that seems slightly misplaced. At first look – a traditional group of four playing a mix of indie and the curiously-monikered folk-punk (Wikipedia’s words) – you’d expect slower, acoustic-led songs. Whilst this is true, their songs don’t tend to stick around any longer than is comfortable, and there are no periods when it feels as if they’ve run out of ideas.
Opener Two Shocks is a very early highlight, and gives a glimpse into the lyrical craft and humour of Brakes. Lead singer Eamon Hamilton blends his voice in with the background for most of the verse, until launching into a refrain of “I covered my body in Vasoline / and learned how to slip through the gaps” for the chorus – breaking free from the shackles of the music to deliver one of the album’s most curious lyrics. It’s a song packed full of ideas; twisting, turning, and constantly evolving until it flowers into a semi-punk breakdown for the conclusion.
Just like their previous effort, Touchdown also feature a sub-two-minute track for the band to let loose; presumably to fulfil that “folk-punk” mantra they’ve been landed with. Whereas The Beatific Visions saw the slightly bizarre Porcupine Or Pineapple? Touchdown has them basking in instrumental glory throughout Red Rag – suitably angry enough to warrant the title.
They continue their mish-mash of style by sticking the album’s most melodic and rhythmic track, Worry About It Later, immediately after. Once the fuzz dies down we’re greeted by Hamilton’s British-Canadian vocal blending couplets into each other as if they were made of Lego. Like the aforementioned toy, the words seem destined to be slotted together – even lyrics which, on paper, should be dismissed quicker than an English Eurovision entry. Gems such as “the band’s been kicking in the old kick drum / world spins quicker when you start to run” probably shouldn’t work on paper, but they’re lost amidst the jaunty, faux-country delivery which Hamilton appears to specialise in.
More juxtaposition follows – Crush On You isn’t as breathlessly delivered as the previous track, and it’s a complete contrast to what came before. It does chug along though, and even more lyrical confusion – “vampire / snake eyes / snake face / oo I’ve got a crush on you” – can’t subtract from what is a very powerful song indeed.
To compensate for the fact that there are two out of the first five songs coming in at over three minutes, we’re then treated to two of the band’s shorter efforts in quick succession. Do You Feel The Same? crams more sentiment into a minute-and-a-half than most pop songs can manage in three times that length, even managing a cheeky guitar solo, and more than twice the words. Ancient Mysteries follows on from Worry About It Later, but with a clearer subject matter: “little Julia is still in the womb / she doesn’t even know that she’ll be born quite soon / her future husband Michael is already 17 / he drives around town and robs the cash machines / later when she marries him her parents will scream ‘he’s stealing our baby, she’s only 13′”. ‘Nuff said.
Oh! Forever allows us time to recover from the breathless exploits of the previous track by starting in a suitably lazy Silversun Pickups-feedback-esque manner before Hamilton croons over the top of a bass/tambourine double-team. It builds and builds, but the result isn’t their strongest effort by any means. Oh! Forever is probably the one time on Touchdown that the pace relents, however considering that only 20 minutes have elapsed so far a breather isn’t exactly needed. TMM is nothing but honest, so it may as well be said: it’s the one song that stops this album from achieving a perfect score. It’s a minor blemish on what is otherwise as perfect an album as you’re likely to hear all year. It’s been kicking around in and out of various stereos since the Gods at the record label dispatched it our way in late January, and hasn’t once grated or overstayed its welcome.
It’s even more of a shame because the remaining three tracks (four, if you count the bonus – and there’s definitely a bonus song because Brakes don’t deal in six-and-a-half minute finales) continue the high standards set by the album’s beginnings. This is an album which can’t be praised enough, and deserves to be heard at least once. Bands such as Brakes are keeping music fresh, interesting, and alive.
Posted: April 22nd, 2009 | Author: Scott | Filed under: Features | 1 Comment »
First of all, how and when did the band come together? Can you introduce us to “The People”?
Well… The People are basically everyone and anyone I have ever played with, or even to get a little cheesy. Anyone who’s been to see us play. The name really came through being in Brighton and having a disjointed band which seemed to change line up all the time. So in the end it became Will And The People! That was four years ago but there have been a few meandering side projects since, until about two years ago when we got serious. The signing to RCA was obviously a big turning point…
What are your plans for the band in 2009?
Festivals are calling our name, I feel we are a summer band right now and I suppose this year we will be cementing ourselves where we belong, up on stage. We are doing loads of gigs this year.
You’ve been selected to open for Girls Aloud on their 2009 tour – are you nervous about playing to thousands of people?
To be honest I’m more excited than nervous; we have been dreaming about playing to that volume of people for so long, it’s going to be mental. We will all probably swallow our own tongues upon meeting Cheryl! And I am sure there will be a fair few nerves before the gigs… Butterflies are good though!
How did the support slot come about?
It came through their management hearing our tunes and asking us to do it… We are so flattered.
Prior to this upcoming tour, what’s the biggest crowd you’ve ever played to?
We supported the Script a few months back, some of the crowds were 3,500 strong and all sold out. That was mental! But the Girls Aloud tour is going to be another story. I think some of the capacities are 25,000! Err…
What’s been the highlight for the band so far?
Definitely getting onto Radio 1. Hearing Jo Whiley say our names was very weird to say the least. Or supporting the Police at Hyde Park last summer; that was a complete dream come true, never in a million years did I think that would happen, and it was our first real gig since being signed. That was nerve-racking but our skin is a little thicker now!
You’ve been known in the past to record material yourself and put it straight up onto YouTube: is the internet a blessing or a curse for independent artists? And what does your label think about you putting music straight onto the internet in this way?
They love it. I think all labels are embracing the fact that the internet is a fabulous marketing and promotional tool. And we love making our own videos so yeah, we are peas in a pod!
Finally, anything interesting we should know about yourselves?
Erm… Well I don’t know if it’s interesting but I like odd shoes! And weird people… and as an ethos we embrace unconventionality, but not in an “I’m so mad” kind of way! And Dan the bassist is called Stig. We think he actually is THE Stig.
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Video: Will And The People – Knocking
Posted: April 6th, 2009 | Author: Scott | Filed under: Features | No Comments »
First of all, how and when did the band come together?
With a bang! We all met at Shoreham’s famous beer festival after the rest of the boys had been introduced to my acoustic demo some days before. My girlfriend, which I met studying in London, had gone to school with the boys and knew they were on the lookout for a front man. Everything just clicked straight away at first rehearsal, and we ended up playing a festival just a couple of weeks later.
Why did you pick the name Absent Elk?
Absent Elk we picked as a nod towards our Scandinavian influence. I’m from Norway – where the elk is known as “the king of the forest”. Initially we just wanted a name that was different to anything else. There was a time when I was really missing home. I was living practically on top of the rail tracks just outside Paddington station, and woke up to a brick wall view every morning. So that’s somehow how that name ended up in the big pile of many other suggestions on the floor in the rehearsal room.
Is there anyone in particular who is a driving force behind the band?
I think now that it’s become our job, everyone in the band are really pushing it. We all want to get as far as we can with this, and are very passionate about Absent Elk. I do write a lot of the songs, but we all work hard finding the best arrangements for them.
What are your plans for 2009?
First of all, we’re supporting Girls Aloud on their arena tour starting 24 April. We’ve got 11 dates with them all over the UK, so we’re going to get to play to masses of people! Our first single ‘Sun & Water’ is released 18th May and our debut album is expected to be out just over the summer. So we’re hoping to make some firm footprints in the UK charts during this year!
You’ve been selected to open for Girls Aloud on their 2009 tour – are you nervous about playing to thousands of people?
Not at all – just really excited! We really can’t wait for that tour. It’s a massive opportunity for us to get our music out there, so we’re going to grab it with both hands.
Prior to this upcoming tour, what’s the biggest crowd you’ve ever played to?
Probably either The Brighton Centre or Brixton Academy supporting the Hoosiers last autumn. Think it was just over 4000 people there.
Why did you choose to cover The Loving Kind in the first place?
We did these covers (we’ve now also done Poker Face by Lady Gaga) just to get some attention prior to release really. We thought if we’d go through the charts and pick some popular songs to cover, it would potentially generate some publicity – and it sure did! Both those covers fast became hits on YouTube. We thought it’d be best to choose songs that were very different to our style to start with – that way we could make it our own. The videos for these covers are very tongue in cheek and were done really quickly just in our living room.
What’s been the highlight for the band so far?
I think recording our first music video, (which had an exclusive preview at The Sun website yesterday) was definitely one of the highlights so far. It puts things in perspective when you start seeing the visuals. Also getting the Girls Aloud tour must be a highlight! Although, it hasn’t quite sunk in yet…
Finally, anything interesting we should know about yourselves?
Ric [Wilson - drums/backing vocals] has a belt obsession – he has them in any shape and colour. He used to work as a cardio physiologist testing peoples hearts.
James [Penhallow - bass] is a bit of a wizard on the bass – he always records in one take. James is by far the longest in the shower! His crazy dancing on stage coordinates him and makes him play in time. He also had a black belt in Karate.
If it wasn’t for Ross [ Marting - guitar/keys], we might not have had our record deal now. He spent countless hours networking with industry people promoting the band. He used to have dreadlocks and worked in a lab testing drugs.
Mike [Hillman - guitar/vocals] ran over a squirrel on his driving test and passed. He used to be a choirboy and has toured round Europe playing trumpet in an orchestra.
I spent one year in a compulsory army camp in north Norway. I also designed the graphics on the Russian A1 race car for the world cup race.
Posted: March 20th, 2009 | Author: Scott | Filed under: Reviews | No Comments »
It’s hard not to enjoy a gig by the Boy Least Likely To. Way back in 2007, the last time they visited Newcastle heralded TMM’s first ever live review (now sadly lost to the archiving demons), and from that moment we were hooked. The Best Party Ever was sought out and purchased, and when news arrived that they’d be back in the area – following an unfortunate hiatus due to record label troubles – tickets were duly requested.
But first, due to the way gigs work, there were support bands to see.
Local duo Your Casket Or Mine opened proceedings, their beardy acoustic blues-rock sounding surprisingly out of place in the Cluny’s empty auditorium. It was clear from this shaky opening that the crowd were only here for one band, as several chose this moment to depart back to the bar, only to return when the beard’s had departed. It’s not that they were bad, it’s just that tonight’s gig-goers were a different kind of music fan.
Cardiff funsters the School did an admirable job in getting people down from the bar though, seeing as their music is in a similar vein to that of tonight’s headliners. Seemingly intent on trying to crowd as many band members as possible onto the venue’s small stage, the School aren’t the most animated of bands – especially when space is tight – and lead singer Liz kept her eyes firmly on the keyboard in front of her. Between song chatter was sparse, however an invitation to “talk amongst yourselves” was well received when the drummer’s foot pedal broke and a replacement was sourced. The band soldiered on though, and were well received for their efforts.
A tangible swell of excitement greeted the Boy Least Likely To’s entrance to the stage. Their live line-up has changed since TMM last saw the band, including the introduction of an “over-excited” new drummer who appeared intent on doubling the speed of every single song on the normally laid-back setlist. With the exception of My Tiger My Heart, which was performed sans drummer, violinist, and banjo player, every track was screamed out at break-neck speed. They still managed to play for an hour, and had the songs been delivered at their usual ganter then tonight could have been much later than it was. The increase in pace seemed to spur on frontman Jof Owen though, and the singer was more animated than the music would suggest: feet were stomped, hands were clapped, and triumphant fists were raised in defiance along with some of the most chidlike tunes to have graced Newcastle since their last visit.
A curious omission was of new single Every Goliath Has Its David, with breakaway hit Be Gentle With Me saved right until the end. Dispersing with the traditional encore “in case you don’t shout for more and we don’t get to come back out”, Owen managed to keep the crowd entertained more than their particular brand of flowery country disco already was – with three members of the crowd deciding to liven up proceedings by launching into an odd dance shuffle in front of the stage. It was duly noted by Owen, who declared that one would lose out as there was a ballad coming, and invited the crowd to share in the discarded dancers’ misery.
It was all in jest though, and both Owen and Pete Hobbs (the band’s other proper member, who plays all the instruments on CD) did a brilliant job of carrying out faithful renditions of both their own songs and the one cover version – a previously released version of George Michael’s Faith. Despite the prominent and over-enthusiastic drumming, their sound was clear and enjoyable, capturing the playful nature of their music perfectly.
The Boy Least Likely To have built up a very passionate and loyal following nationwide, and after performances such as these it’s clear to see why.
Posted: March 17th, 2009 | Author: Scott | Filed under: Reviews | No Comments »
Blackpool born singer-songwriter Karima Francis was something of an unknown quantity to TMM when we accepted an offer to turn up and take in a live show of hers in her label’s hometown. Signed to Newcastle-based Kitchenware Records (home to Editors, of all people), she’s been slowly gaining critical acclaim ahead of the release of her debut album. The Guardian love her, and she’s featured in their “new band of the day” segment (along with, admittedly, every other band on the planet) as well as being hotly tipped by the Observer to be one of 2009’s brightest stars. From her very first note it’s quite clear to see why.
This is, quite frankly, Guardian-readers’ music. It’s stripped back, it’s bare, and the perfect lazy accompaniment to relaxing with a broadsheet newspaper in a conservatory. It’s the kind of music you can envisage coming with a recommended ABC1 target audience, and straight from the school of this-is-how-to-make-music-and-be-a-successful-singer-songwriter.
And it’s brilliant. From the second she walks on stage, Francis has the audience under her spell. Between songs there’s a big smile underneath her Jackson 5-esque afro, and when she gets down to business she sings with such emotion and power that every word hits home powerfully. She sounds at least 20 years older than she actually is, and every note rings out with a letter attached: this is real.
Francis appears down-to-earth, honest, and incredibly grateful that the current crowd in the sparsely populated Cluny has chosen to come out this Sunday evening to watch her performance. Included in that crowd is her label, who receive an introduction from Karima (something which isn’t afforded to the anonymous guitarist/backing-singer who makes up her “band”, however further internet-based probing reveals this to be Simon Robbs) and warm applause as a result. There’s an air of being present at a private screening or production; obviously partly helped by the fact the venue was barely half-full, but also aided by the silence throughout each song. At such a personal display, it would be rude to make a sound, and even TMM’s photographer kept the photos to a minimum due to the fact that every photograph sounded out like a gunshot in the auditorium (sorry to those that were there, but have a look at the photos and decide whether or not to have a go first!).
Performance wise, it’s very polished indeed. Any nerves or insecurities – which she admits to suffering from in several interviews dotted around – appear banished, and it’s clear that her tour earlier this year has injected her with some much-needed confidence. There’s also talk of having to do a cover in order to break up the monotony of her own songs, however she only does the one – Kings Of Leon’s Use Somebody – immediately after opening with The Author, and sticks solidly to self-penned efforts thereafter.
There’s good reason for this as well, as Francis’ efforts come from a similar vein as those of Duffy and Adele. She’s more raw though, scaling more octaves than the former, and appearing infinitely more sincere than the latter. Karima Francis will no doubt be heralded as the latest in a long line of powerful female troubadours, but on this showing possesses more quality and charm than the rest of them put together.
Posted: March 15th, 2009 | Author: Scott | Filed under: Reviews | No Comments »
Newcastle’s Cluny is a curious venue. Situated on the banks of the Ouse, it’s part of an area of Ouseburn industrial estate that has seen a lot of redevelopment recently. It’s also 15 minutes from the nearest metro station, and gigs don’t tend to start until 9pm – meaning that by the time the third band has played it’s already 11.30pm and by the time you’ve walked you’ve missed the last bus/metro home, making it a very expensive night indeed. Luckily, TMM is used to this and has a designated photographer-driver, meaning that the selection of alcohol on offer – generally imported, with Budvar and Peroni on draught – is much appreciated indeed.
It’s also a venue inhabited by students and art lovers, a third of which seem to be carrying professional looking cameras too. Upon entering the venue, you realise why; there’s at least a five foot climb onto the stage. There’s no pit or security – it’s not the kind of venue that attracts troublemakers apparently – so punters, scribes, and photographers jostle at the front for the best positions. TMM won, obviously.
Even more surprising than the lack of pit or security, is that there’s a third – previously unannounced – band on the bill. The Chevrolites are a local band, roped in to play following support slots with the Datsuns and Pigeon Detectives last month, and do their best to attract the crowd through from the bar to the venue early. It half works, but the crowd is made up more of people being polite (some choosing to sit on the floor for now) than people enjoying the music. It’s a shame, because the Chevrolites’ particular brand of early-Arctic-Monkeys-style-indie is quite impressive.
Lead singer John Vickers’ vocals resonate like that of Maximo Park vocalist Paul Smith – mainly due to the close regional proximity of the two bands – and guitarist Craig Allington compliments their playing with some tight solos. It’s very first-album-Monkeys though, and it’s debatable whether or not they’ll manage to rise above the myriad of bands playing similar music nationwide.
Grammatics though, are an altogether different beast. The four-piece are phenomenal live, beginning with album opener Shadow Committee and venturing through a half-hour set that strays from the album just the once. Singer Owen Brinley’s words come out beautifully, filling the venue effortlessly. The semi-androgynous lead singer seems genuinely grateful for the turn-out – although bassist Rory O’Hara wins the prize for the most confusing reaction of the night; asking members of the audience to raise their hands if they’re looking forward to Red Light Company and then remarking on the lack of interest from the crowd with a slightly mumbled “well you’ve paid to come see them…”.
Personality defects aside – pretentious as the male members of the band appear to be – Grammatics do make damn good music. The downside of the evening was the cello, as Emilia Ergin’s instrument only seemed to come to life occasionally, and at the press of a foot peddle, rather than fleshing out the band’s sound as it does on record. She did thank us for the review though, so we can let her off.
The night’s headliners have a surprisingly popular following. Given the lack of esteem which major labels seem to have, Red Light Company attract the biggest cheer of the night. Signed to Sony subsidiary Lavolta, it’d be understandable if the more left-wing patrons of the Cluny had actually turned up for Grammatics. Instead, words were matched by the crowd and the Kings Of Leon lookalikes rose to the occasion effortlessly. Scheme Eugene seemed to be a favourite, although the small clamour of girls down the front of the stage appeared happy enough just to be close to lead singer and all-around band leader Richard Frenneaux who, curiously, never looked down once and kept his eyes transfixed on the back of the room.
It’s a criticism that could be levelled at the entire band too, and there was a slight feeling that this was a group operating on autopilot, despite Frenneaux’s infrequent foray into the world of crowd-banter and gratitude. It could be because they’re destined for bigger things, and that this time next year will be playing in arenas where that kind of approach will be needed, but for the numbers packed into the Cluny’s small music area it just felt rude.
That’s not to say that Where Everyone Is Everybody Else and set closer The Alamo didn’t go down well though, even after the briefest of disappearances from the stage for the “encore”, and subsequent swift departure from the frontman who didn’t seem particularly bothered about soaking up the audience’s applause in the way the rest of the band did. The songs did go down well, and the band seemed most in tune with each other compared to the other two, but there was a slight hint of them going through the motions.
It’s a pity though as, combined with Grammatics’ odd-ball approach to the world of indie, both bands are arguably two of the shining lights for British music – with two equally impressive debuts released this month. They just both need to lose the attitudes.
Posted: March 5th, 2009 | Author: Scott | Filed under: Features | No Comments »
Red Light Company are a five-piece rock act based primarily in London, who released their debut album Fine Fascination on March 2nd in the UK through Lavolta records – part of Sony BMG.
To celebrate this, and our review, we caught up with lead singer Richard Frenneaux to find out more about the band’s origins.
So, what are you guys up to at the moment?
At the moment we’re practicing on acoustic guitars for a session later on. We’re just trying to figure out how to play our songs acoustically. We’re doing loads of promo, and just getting ready for the tour we’ve got coming up.
Are you looking forward to it?
We spent most of last year touring and building things up from there, so it’s something we’ve had a lot of practice with. We’re really excited about playing London as well. We’re playing the Borderline, and we sold it out a lot quicker than we expected to, so that’s exciting. It’ll just be nice to see the country again. We spent last year travelling around, so it’s going to be good to go back and see if the audience has grown! We’re then going to Austria to play Snowbombing, then around Europe, and later on we’re playing Summersonic in Japan – so that’s really exciting too.
Isn’t one of your members from Japan?
Shawn [Day, bass] is yeah, he was born in Osaka. It’s nice to go back to places, it gives you a good excuse.
You must go a lot of places then, because the band seem to be from all over. Is there any place that you all feel at home?
I think London, to be honest. The band was started in London and is very much influenced by that. Me and Shawn were writing at the time and everything was very new to us. We wanted to record the album in London and we wrote it out here. If there’s anywhere for this band to call home it’s London.
So how did you all end up coming together?
It started with me posting an ad on a UK site just looking for musicians, as I wanted to start a band. I gave a list of influences and Shawn saw it. He was living in Wyoming and wanted to leave because there wasn’t much music there. He flew over immediately and unfortunately he got kept at the airport because he didn’t have enough funds. He flew back to Wyoming and then back here once he got the money together, so it was a bit of a weird start. It was that level of commitment which was very important to me when trying to find musicians. We all take it very seriously and I think you don’t have to give up everything to be in a band but it definitely shows that you’re committed.
Has that commitment helped the band come along as quick as it has since 2007?
Yeah. We tried to keep control over things, and we’ve been working really hard for the past couple of years. Myself and Shawn spent a year writing the album around 2006, and then we got the band together, so probably the start of ’07. We kind of went straight into making the record after that.
What about the rest of the band then? How did you meet them?
They’re kind of friends of friends. I worked with James [Griffiths, drums] for a while in a band in Cardiff, so he came from there. Chris [Edmonds, keyboard] we met when we were going to the Sony offices, we had a publishing deal at that point, and he had an acoustic guitar on his back as he was wanting to audition for us. We weren’t looking for a guitarist and the time and he had never played keys, so we decided that he should learn [laughs]. He learnt in about two or three weeks, and when he came in was able to play pretty much everything. Paul [Mellow, guitar] was just another friend of a friend.
You were writing the album before they got involved then, so had you and Shawn writing any keyboard parts up until that point?
Yeah. We’d written all the parts for the record and demoed everything, so it was all finished. We just needed someone to do it live, yeah.
So you and Shawn are the chief songwriters in the band?
That’s right, yes.
How do the band feel about that then? It sounds as if, for all intents and purposes, that they’re a backing band?
In a way. It’s one of those situations where you’ve got a vision of what you want from a project, and people either buy into it or they don’t. They were just really excited about the music and the opportunity to be playing it. It’s our first record, and I think with your first record you’ve got to do it how you feel comfortable doing it, and not have to compromise that for anyone. It was one of those where we were ”this is how we want to do it, so this is how we’re going to do it”.
Are there any plans to involve the rest of the band in writing new songs?
To some extent. I think it’s a luxury which time can afford, and there’s very little time to be writing when you’re touring so much. I try to grab moments when I can when I’m not touring and I’m at home, but it’s difficult. These things evolve over time, and we’re just taking it one step at a time. Right now we’ve got a couple of ideas floating around for the second album, and it’ll be nice to get into a rehearsal space and work through them as a band.
You’ve started on the follow-up already?
For me, the majority of the excitement of being in a band is actually being creative and writing. It’s always fun going off on tour, but I like being creative. If I haven’t got that outlet I feel a bit suffocated.
You can tell from the album; you’ve released a limited edition version of it with a second CD and another five tracks.
We wanted to give people a bit something else, you know. We didn’t have them on the original album because of the running order. I like debut albums to be about 10 tracks and that felt comfortable. What we put down on the record felt comfortable and exactly like the record we wanted to make. The other tracks, although some are some of my favourite tracks, wouldn’t fit on the record so we gave them away separately. It’s like an a-side and a b-side – we structured it like that. The first five tracks run in a certain order and the last five do as well.
But you’ve also got one or two that don’t appear anywhere apart from earlier singles, like Let’s Get Together.
Yeah, that hasn’t come together really. It was very much one of those tracks that was floating around as a demo for a long, I don’t know where that went. How did you get hold of it?
It’s on Spotify, along with Personally Breaking Or Making Words Up.
That’s interesting because they were both demos, so it was just us playing around in the flat and that’s what we came up with.
No plans to put them in another album?
No, I think it’s nice to have a clean slate. I think the interesting thing about Fine Fascination is the track New Jersey Television that made it on there – that was written way after we’d actually finished making the record. It was all mixed and we’d started writing for the second album and everyone got excited so we put it on the first one.
Are you happy with how it’s eventually turned out?
Absolutely. We went in with Adrian Bushy and he agreed to co-produce, there wasn’t any ego involved with that and he was very willing to go along with our ideas and my production and build on that. It’s one of those things where we didn’t rush into making anything, we had enough time to go and make the record we wanted to make and I couldn’t be happier with it as a debut to be honest.
Do you think it helped that Adrian has worked with bands with a very similar sound to yourselves?
That’s we wanted to go for. I didn’t want small production; I didn’t think it suited the type of music we were making to be honest. I wanted something that was suitably emotive, and I think big drums have that effect. It was just about the suitability for the music, and I think that’s the type of music we make.
What did you think about the album getting leaked?
It’s one of those things: it happens to every band at some stage of their careers. You look at U2; they’re the biggest band in the world and their album gets leaked somehow. There’s not much you can do about it. To be honest, if it gets bums on seats as far as the live shows go, and if it makes people listen to it who wouldn’t normally get into that kind of music then I’m happy about it. People are going to steal music whatever happens so it’s absolutely fine with me as long as they come and see us live [laughs].
I’m glad to see you’re not too hung up on album sales.
You can’t get wrapped up in that. I think as an artist you can’t get too involved with album sales and stuff like that. All you can do is try and make something that you’re proud of and then the rest will hopefully follow.
You’re signed to Sony though, are you not worried that they’re going to be more reliant on album sales as a way to measure success?
We wanted the biggest opportunity to reach as many people as we could and wanted to be on a label that that could support that. We didn’t sign with Sony initially, we signed with Lavolta which was a subsidiary of Columbia, but then that moved into Columbia halfway through the recording process. It’s nice to have a team of people you can bat ideas back and forward with but still have control over what you’re doing. You want to be working with people who can help you reach other people.
They’ve never pushed you in a different direction or made you do something you don’t want to do then?
No, it’s something I’m very driven with and I keep on top of it all the time. Videos, artwork, it’s all presentation of the band and it’s very important. If you’re one of those bands that doesn’t give a crap about that stuff then you deserve not to have good artwork. I think it’s vitally important for this band to make sure that every aspect of it is presented well.
How did the label come about? When did you get signed?
We didn’t play any live shows, we just asked labels to come and see us in the rehearsal space. I didn’t want to be one of those bands that is courted by labels and then has to turn a record round in three to six months. I didn’t want that. We did loads of showcases at the start of 2007 and got signed off the back of that, which was really good for us.
So you were signed before even playing a gig?
Yeah, it was a bit of a weird way of doing it but I wanted control and enough time to make the record that I wanted to make.
What’s planned for this year then?
We’re just touring as much as we can. I’m excited to see new places, and the prospect of going to Japan, the prospect of going to Austria, and doing a load of gigs in Europe and America. These are all things which keep you excited with music. At the same time writing does as well. Travelling is as exciting as writing, and I hope to be writing as much as I can whilst travelling, although it’s a bit difficult trying to do both at once.
Any festivals in this country coming up?
Hopefully one or two, I just don’t know anything yet. I’m not sure to be honest, but they should be getting confirmed fairly soon so hopefully we’ll be doing as many as possible. We did Glastonbury last year and I’d love to go and play there again, it was one of the most amazing gigs. It’s also an excuse to get really, really, really drunk [laughs]. As a new band you go on really early and you have the rest of the day to have fun, so it’s good.
If so, will you be going to see Bruce Springsteen?
That’s going to be interesting, I’m excited about it. It’s Coldplay playing before Springsteen isn’t it?
I didn’t know that.
Yeah it’s a bit of a strange one. I’d love to see Springsteen, I haven’t seen him yet so I’d be really happy with that.
Did you go see Jay-Z last year?
I did, a little, but to be honest I was quite far gone at that point so I don’t really remember much of it!
Posted: March 5th, 2009 | Author: Scott | Filed under: Reviews | No Comments »
If you’ve been anywhere near a television since 2005 you’ll probably already be familiar with the Boy Least Likely To, whether you know it or not. Be Gentle With Me, from their debut album The Best Party Ever (the titles alone should tell you what kind of band you’re dealing with here) has been used to soundtrack both furniture and finance, and the album even managed to be included in Pitchfork and Rough Trade’s top albums list for the year of release. A US release followed a year later, that saw Rolling Stone describe them as sounding like “what would happen if all your childhood stuffed animals got together and started a band”. It’s not an unfair accusation either, and certainly not malicious. The Boy Least Likely To are Pete Jobbs and Jof Owen, two musicians who seem unable to grow up, and in all likelihood probably still play with their childhool stuffed animals in their spare time.
After all the success of their debut album, the follow-up has been a while coming. Introductory single Every Goliath Has Its David is in a similar vein to the playfulness of Be Gentle With Me, but slightly lacking the charm of their smash hit. It’s something that can be levelled at the entire album – their half-hearted aim at remaining as twee as the debut is quite apparent. For all intents and purposes though, this is an album that winds up being stronger than the debut, showing a much darker side to childhood innocence shown first time round.
That’s not to say that they’ve lost the ability to have fun though. Whiskers could have been lifted straight off The Best Party Ever, with the line “he rubs his paws together, and it begins to snow” seeming to come straight out of a children’s story book, complete with a banjo rhythm. It’s songs such as When Life Gives Me Lemons I Make Lemonade that show how far they’ve come since their debut though – it’s a much fuller song, packed with insanely catchy hooks that provoke a fear of embarrassment in case anyone sees what a good time you’re having.
The darker side to the album comes in the form of A Balloon On A Broken String, which begins jauntily enough with the line “I’m not a boy / I’m a big fat balloon flapping in the wind / floating over the tree tops, on a broken string / I’ve never been tied down”, however following a doo-wop chorus line and muted guitars ventures into “I can feel myself deflating all the time”. This child-like way of approaching subjects is where Owen shines, revealing more about his emotional state of mind than some of the best songwriters have managed with a much wider vocabulary. “I know I look shiny and bouncy but I’m all empty inside and I worry that if I was to burst suddenly then nobody would even notice me” is the breathless parting refrain, but it’s set alongside such up-tempo madness that you don’t even notice.
Marching drums and xylophone distract you from the subject matter throughout the album’s 13 tracks, with a full brass band entering like a Wallace And Gromit soundtrack on The Boy With Two Hearts – “I am the boy with two hearts / and there is only so far / I can be stretched before / I come apart” – which again continues Jof’s lyrical themes of isolation and a worry that he’s not quite fitting in: “I know I’m not much fun to be with / but you love me all the same / and someday hopefully I can just go back to being myself again”. It makes for painful listening, especially as it’s one of the only slower tracks on the record, and brass bands have a habit of making even the happiest of songs seem downbeat.
The finale is typically strong though, bouncing along through I Keep Myself To Myself – “the world is made up of boxes that I don’t fit in” – a tail of being afraid of love but wanting to be loved. It’s when the lyrics are kept as simple as this, with a chorus of “I want a cookie, and I need a hug”, that they’re most effective. Again, there’s more twee madness as Jof skips along hand-in-hand with his innermost thoughs and fears, and wears his heart “uncomfortably on my sleeve”.
The Law Of The Playground may, at first listen, appear to be lacking the melodies of The Best Party Ever, but bear with it. After a while, when the lyrics hit home, it’s an album deeper and more meaningful than the throw-away nature of the first. Richer, more vibrant, and a more rewarding listen, it shows why it always pays to keep in touch with your inner child.
Posted: February 27th, 2009 | Author: Scott | Filed under: Reviews | No Comments »
If, at any part in the past few months, you’ve paid attention to any of the 2009 “buzz” bands doing the round, you’ll undoubtedly have come face-to-face with Red Light Company. The London five-piece seem to have bucked the trend of up-and-coming bands – preferring to rely on two guitars rather than keyboards, although they still have a keyboard player – and from the off appear intent on announcing their arrival a bloated music scene.
Words Of Spectacular is as good of an opener as you’re likely to hear all year, and Scheme Eugene is one of last years’ stand-out singles. After the first two tracks you get the feeling that you’ve got a winner on your hands, with third track Arts & Crafts doing little to dispel that notion.
Lead singer Richard Frenneaux is the driving force behind this album, along with bassist Shawn Day. Between them, the pair – who managed to get signed without playing a single gig or having any other band members – craft intricate melodies and glorious pop patterns throughout tracks such as Meccano and Where Everyone Is Everybody Else. Although the rest of the band – Paul Mellon on guitar, Chris Edmonds on keyboard, and James Griffiths on drums – didn’t have much of a say in the album’s writing, they all play their parts perfectly. Drumming is tight, lead guitar riffs are inspiring, and the keyboards haunting; particularly on album closer The Alamo.
Throughout this ten-track debut the band seem to be shooting for the spectacular rather than the comfortable – and it’s an approach which brings varying results. One the one hand we have the fantastic New Jersey Television, the aforementioned Scheme Eugene, and The Architect. Sadly though, tracks such as First We Land and The Alamo do little more than make up the numbers – the latter featuring an annoying staccato guitar effect that resonates for three minutes at the end of the album, and does nothing else.
Flat attempts at grandeur aside, Fine Fascination is a high-quality debut album that will burrow into your subconcious for many months to come.
Posted: February 24th, 2009 | Author: Scott | Filed under: Features | No Comments »
I daresay we’ll have a proper review at some point, however for now here’s our track-by-track breakdown of our very first listen to U2’s new album No Line On The Horizon. We listened to it here, and you can too if you register or sign up.
No Line On The Horizon: Begins just like a U2 song generally does – all reverb and feedback. Bono starts early, all growly voice and singing about the universe. A bit classic U2, which is no bad thing. Very simplistic, as U2 music generally is, and nothing technically proficient about the guitar work – just layers and layers of echo. Bono starts to sound old at the end. Doesn’t sound like this song’s going to be a hit. Lasts a bit too long.
Magnificent: Beginning is just Bono shouting “magnificent!” for a while, like some kind of subliminal message to make you feel like you’re listening to something good. Layers of reverb and some power chords. Very similar to the opening track, and Bono sings “only love can leave such a mark / only love can leave such a scar” before bursting into more anguished cries of “magnificent!”. Not impressed. This one again lasts about a minute longer than it should, with an underwhelming solo thrown in for a laugh too.
Moment Of Surrender: They have a bassist?! Startling revelation aside – showcased by a catchy riff – this seems destined for a Comic Relief montage. There’s some church organ and background guitar work that tries a little too hard. Quite morbid, although attempting to be uplifting. Not as much reverb on this one. More underwhelming guitar work. Seven and a half minutes long – at least three times longer than it needs to be.
Unknown Caller: Have you played the Brian Eno game Bloom on the iPhone? If you have then you’ll probably recognise the opening as it sounds as if that’s where it was made – no surprise really, considering Eno helped them out. This is six minutes long and I’m bored after two. Layers of reverb. Some bizarre chanting. Leave well alone. More organ near the end, and this doesn’t go anywhere even after some more half-arsed guitar wankery.
We got interrupted at this point by an advert for the new War Child album – wouldn’t be surprised if it’s pre-planned. Let us know if it happens to you at this point too. Unfortunately it ended too soon and the album started again.
I’ll Go Crazy If I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight: Bono sings the last half of the title in a painful falsetto, and does the whole quick-singing thing again, as if he’s building up for Get On Your Boots’ rap. We’re aware that it’s the next song. This is slightly better than the preceeding four songs, but still nothing to write home about. So far this is the only redeeming effort. Not as many layers of reverb. Plus it’s only four minutes long and we’re now halfway through – bonus! String section, powerful finish, another pathetic solo. It’s all becoming a bit formulaic.
Get On Your Boots: We’ve been waiting for this. Does the song fit into the context of the album? Well, yes and no: it’s awful, so it’s in good company; but it’s far too heavy compared to everything else, so no. It’s as if, halfway through, they thought “let’s just make the stupidest, most annoying song we can” and had it rapped (ha!) up within 10 minutes. And I STILL haven’t got a clue what the hell he’s on about. Contender for the worst song of the year. Not as much reverb as the rest of the album. Half-arsed solo. Beginning to see a pattern here? Shortest song on the album, but seems to last twice as long as the rest.
Stand Up Comedy: I was half-hoping this would be a spoken word comedy routine from the be-spectacle’d frontman, but alas. An interesting drum breakdown kicks things off, and can’t complain about the guitar work. Shame we’ve just heard Bono singing about “crossing the road like a little old lady”. We’re also told to “stand up for your love”. Bono thinks that his ego isn’t really the problem, and it’s like an eight year old boy crossing an eight-lane highway on a road to self-discovery. No, we can’t comprehend it either. Also; since when did they have highways in Ireland?! Is there a solo… yes, there is. About two and a half minutes through (this is another sub-four minute song) the Edge wakes up and plays a little ditty before going back to sleep.
FEZ – Being Born: Tommy Cooper? What? Some background noise, then a fairground attraction, and it’s beginning to sound like this may be an instrumental. Edge wakes up after a minute, and the song changes completely to sound like one of the hero-running-away-dramatically sequences from a big budget action movie – complete with more anguised screams from Bono. Seriously. Oh, he’s singing. More reverb. Bono screams as if he’s giving birth. Over five minutes of U2 being awful.
A Gaza Crisis appeal. I bet Bono’s had a hand in this… and not good promotion for Spotify – two annoying adverts and we’re only up to track nine.
White As Snow: “Where I came from there were no hills at all” croons Bono, and more talk of highways. More Bloom-esque Eno handiwork by the sounds of things. Painful harmonies, and Bono tries to be sorrowful. It fails. Picks up with some trombone, hopefully in place of a guitar solo. One of their worst efforts, which is in itself some achievement. I was right – trombone in place of a guitar solo. Score.
Breathe: Begins with some tribal drumming, and then some crashing chords come in. Bono sings too quick to make sense of what he’s saying, which is probably a good thing. He sounds like he needs to breath himself, as some lines threaten to suffocate. They only threaten though, sadly. More group therapy-style singing for choruses, and they use the reverb effects they’ve probably been saving up throughout the album. Possibly more here than any other song. We’ve just heard him singing about Chinese shares going up as he comes down with a new Asian virus… and the band “in my head play a striptease”. Remind us not to go to any U2 afterparties. Slow build up to a chorus about two-thirds of the way through, before Edge bottles it in favour of some violin. Then he decides to go for it, using those four notes he’s learnt to great effect. Oh listen; layers of reverb. At least we’re nearly done.
Cedars Of Lebanon: The last track. Salvation. Never have I wanted an album to finish more than this one. Sadly, there’s another four-and-a-half minutes to sit through. Oh look, Eno’s playing with Bloom in the recording studio again. Seriously, I’m going to try and recreate some of this album later on. Bono’s started, it’s very spoken-word, which is both a blessing and a curse. He’s tidying children’s clothes and toys, which is nice of him. All this singing has clearly worn him out, and he’s gone a bit Leonard Cohen. A child drinks some dirty water, a soldier fetches some oranges, and he watches the sun go down in Lebanon. The band chime in with some backing vocals, and Edge presses the reverb button again – presumably the one marked “layers”. Bono rhymes “cigarette” with “minarette”, and tells us to choose our enemies carefully. More guitar reverb. And it’s over. Thank God.
The Verdict: No, not a well-hidden secret track in which Bono condemns us all for not giving enough money to the starving children, this is the bit where I attempt to sum up what I’ve just been listening to.
Where to start? Well, it’s awful. It’s a shame too, as I’ve tried to approach this with something resembling an open mind, and give the band their due for claiming to have made the best album of their career. This, quite frankly, falls some way short of the genius they once were. Horribly so.
In a way, it’s classic U2. Bono sings in a way that suggests he’s God’s greatest gift, the Edge sticks layers (I mentioned this once or twice) of reverb on every single note, and that drummer guy talks to the bassist for a bit and they both sneak off for a crafty fag halfway through. Guitar solos are awkward and tacked on, and the only redeeming feature for me is the bassline in Moment Of Surrender, the only OK song here.
Standard U2 fare, and sadly worth no more than half marks. And that’s at a push. The only positive thing to come out of this was that Spotify was brilliant and didn’t let us down apart from the two adverts, which seem to be pre-planned seeing as the album doesn’t pop up if you search for it.
Have a listen to the album here, and let us know your views below. Bear in mind that we have tried to approach this with an open mind, and just because our views are undoubtedly different to the millions of U2 fans out there doesn’t mean we’re wrong. Keep it creative!