Happy New March!
We could not be more excited about this month. We Parisians now celebrate the arrival of spring – birds are twittering in the trees as I type this – days are getting longer, and album releases are getting better. Spring and summer fashion is now in the shops, and you can raise a happy glass to the end of winter, if you’re not stuck under the East Coast’ snowpocalypse, that is. If so, here’s something to warm you up!
[**] What we have been waiting for the longest: the new Frightened Rabbit is now in stores and on iTunes. We’ve reviewed The Winter of Mixed Drinks for you, and there are not enough superlatives to convey how great the album is. Ellie Goulding is also releasing her debut album, fresh from accepting her Brit Awards’ Critics Choice statuette. Laura Marling and personal darlings Black Rebel Motorcycle Club are soon to come.
[**] Glastonbury may have entirely sold out (sadface!) but other festivals are slowly revealing their line-up: Oxegen, T in the Park and Bonaroo are the big contenders for 2010. Only rumors are floating around Reading & Leeds, with only Blink-182 apparently confirmed. Tickets go on sale this month, snatch them before they all go!
[**] One of our favorite comedians, Elon James White (whose baby “This Week in Blackness” can be checked out from our sidebar) loves brunching, the concept of brunch, brunch food, and people who brunch; he loves this all so much, he first trended #webrunchhard on Twitter, and decided it needed a permanent location on the intrawebz. Because it is more than a meal, it’s an entire lifestyle, it needed its own anthem as well. Here’s the We Brunch Hard video, the only, original, hardcore, gangsta one. Quiche or spinach wrap?
Raise that skirt up, and have a good spring!
It’s All About the Good Shit
The only thing that worked in 2009 was music. From Kanye West creating unprecedented drama at the MTV Awards to the release of unexpected solo albums, the year that rode on waves of economic crisis, unemployment, wars in Afghanistan and the return of covert racism has been effectively lifted by good melodies. As Q Magazine contributor John Harris once said, “the climate might suck, but music is finally good again”.
It is amidst one of the coldest winters since the early 80s that we are bringing you allthegoodshit.com, another music blog, another opinion-based music platform, another place where people are telling you who to listen to, should you ever get confused. The difference? We’re all over the place, all the time, and cover just about anything, as long as it’s good shit. We’re not saying it objectively is good shit; we’re just saying it works for us, tickles us, makes us dance on tables, ups our tabs at the local bars, and somehow empties our pockets of cash after plane tickets and train tickets. Basically, it’s improving our mental well-being. We’re just sharing the good shit we’ve loved in these dire times.
For the first edition of allthegoodshit.com, we’ve prepared lists. We’re anal, and it’s that time of the year. From all our contributors around the world, you get to check what’s been done in 2009 that you may have overlooked, or may not even have heard of at all; you get to see what’s going to happen in 2010, from the upcoming record launches to the upcoming interviews. We started on a very high ground with comedian John Knefel, who tells us there’s a future beyond punk bands, and with a pictorial of Americana cult figure Langhorne Slim, who plays guitar while rolling himself on the floor (don’t try this at home). We found a hero in Frank Turner, and possible role models in Frightened Rabbit. In case you think this isn’t enough, we have more up our sleeves for the months ahead, from Jamie T to The Long Blondes’ Kate Jackson, and some underground acts from all over the world, so stay tuned.
This website is nothing more than a collaboration of great minds and funny people. Learn all about them in the contributor section, and don’t hesitate to give some feedback. We would also not even exist if it weren’t for our sister sites Deaf Left Ear from New Jersey or What’s The Ruckus from Colorado. If you haven’t heard of them, it’s time to start. We are all about expanding horizons and stretching silver linings. As Frank Turner said, “if music was the food of love, then I’d be a fat romantic slob”. Feel free to grab the last cupcake, we’ll make another batch to go with the next editorial.
Any question you want to ask? Any topic you want to cover? Feel like you could be a pretty decent guest contributor? Have pictures to submit? Email us. Do you have an amazing apple pie recipe you want to share? Contact us. If it’s good, we’ll take it. In the meantime, listen, watch, read, hear, think, and more importantly, enjoy. It’s a bumpy ride, but you won’t even notice the turbulences as long as you have your earphones firmly secured.
Welcome to February 2010
It’s already the second month of the new decade, and it promises to be extremely eventful. Check out the news from the people we have featured, might be featured, or will never feature…
- A new episode of John & Molly get along, featuring John Knefel, is out now. Ted Alexandro is sings The Carpenters, Molly Knefel is wears an eye patch, and we find out that John’s mother was one hell of a party-goer. Because John is not just a party child, I am going to link to what I think is one of his best True/Slant pieces to date.
- Mark your calendars, Frank Turner is releasing a live DVD on March 22nd. Watch the trailer. Frank has also been live-tweeting the Grammy’s with his friend Chris, starting a new drinking game and ending up weeping for the future of music. Tweets include: “Taylor Swift also just thanked her record label for *letting her* write every song on her album. I’m literally about to gouge my eyes out” and the hilarious “Miley Cyrus scares the shit out of me. She’s like a demon child” (We couldn’t agree more!). For more Jagerbomb-fueled criticism in 140 characters or less, add Frank on Twitter.
- One of our favorite bands, Frightened Rabbit, is releasing their third album, “Swim until you can’t see land,” in three weeks. We could not be more excited. Here is the video for the new single, “Nothing like you,” The beautiful first song that gave its title to the album can be found here.
- Howard Zinn died last Wednesday. Citizen Radio pays a tribute by re-airing the interview the American hero gave them a couple of months before his death. Listen to it here. We are also happy to announce their NYC live show at the UCB theater on February 8th is now sold out! Congratulations!
It’s that time of the year again…
Valentine’s Day is just 24 hours away kids, and we have something special in store for you, but in the meantime, we have some interesting news…
[*] The Strokes have not just unveiled a new logo (designed by Warren Fu), they are also sharing the day-to-day activities pertaining to the recording of their new album, which should be released some time this year. The first video is narrated by Sir Richard Priest and features a product placement deal by Home Depot.
[*] Our friends from Soft Spot have also released their first video for “Half A House”, that we are more than happy to premiere: watch it here, and let us know what you think!
[*] Jamie Foxx introduces the new version of “We are the world”, recorded as a fundraiser for Haiti. Watch the video here. Also part of the artists’ efforts to raise money and awareness on the disaster, Tegan & Sara helped raised $20,000 through a poster auction to benefit Doctors Without Borders; the Canadian government matched their contribution for a total of $40,000. Don’t hesitate to participate and visit the Doctors Without Borders website.
Franz Is Dead: Ah-Leu-Cha
Long gone are the days of purposefully low-fi recordings made to sound as if you were calling your vocals in. Laurent Blot’s solo effort away from his friends of Eldia is the release of a solo LP of a technical and musical quality rare in the playground of self-produced and self-recorded musicians. Laurent confessed that he has improved ever since the release of Sara in 2007. The birth of his daughter and the taking off of Eldia has not closeted his personal muse, who rises again from her slumbers under the warm embrace of Miles Davis. Jazz, britpop and swinging guitars surround a soft, loving voice and relatable songwriting. All hail Paris!
Music is meant to soothe even the most savage beast; and that’s a task Laurent Blot has taken to heart, creating melodies that nurse the heart and invite the legs to dance. Opener “Let it go” is one perfect example of his particular talent to console and mend, even when the mind finds it difficult to rest. Country rock is not too far in minor keys and pinched strings, accentuation and inflections of britpop floats around in a Notting Hill-based atmosphere. Smoothly moving onto a funky, impossibly fresh “Where you’re gone” and the tap-dancing, sunshine-blaring “Really Want You” brings us happier, sunnier, brighter days. I know, I know, Laurent said he had moved away from The Kinks, but such a strong influence can’t be denied. There are bits and pieces of “Sunny afternoon” seeping in and out of the record, and we’re certainly not complaining.
Halfway through the eight-track record comes the much expected jazz influence, a soft, melodious and slightly melancholic number called “I remember you”, an ode to nostalgia and summer loving, the horns of John Coltrane not too far away from the timeless saturnism of the song, yet free of any bitterness or resentment. If the past is gone and took a bit of love with him, it might as well be celebrated for the good times and the irreplaceable feelings it brought. Shuffling the drums and hitting piano keys in A major, “Einstein in disguise” is another Blue Note moment, with fresh pop arrangements that once again bring the happy moments of the pre-Jam, pre-Rolling Stones London, at a time when Baker Street was filled with flower dresses and straws in the hair. Ah-Leu-Cha establishes itself as the perfect summer record, early on in the spring, dancing for the sun to come and stay. Despite the small self-deprecation of the lyrics, it is obvious Franz Is Dead “got it” in terms of coining the perfect pop tune, a recipe many bands have been trying to decipher since 1962.
From the up-tempo of “Concentrate” to album closer “It’s Only Words”, Ah-Leu-Cha is the most British record ever made within the French borders, arrangements so delicate it sounds organic, and the voice so attuned it might as well be Ray Davies peeking outside his window to recall fond memories of lost and found love, a wry smile and a pint of bitter in a pub set alight by the rising spring sun. Strong influences are hard to let go of, especially when they make the foundation of a musical imprint; they become resilient, a background feedback that can never be taken away from the composition process. But when such tribute is released with ingenuity and invention, this is no copycat on our hands here – it is the respect due to the albums past, and a joyful reminder that we are all here for a reason.
The metamorphosis of Laurent Blot
He is smart. He is talented. He is a pillar of the Parisian scene. You may have not necessarily picked up on his name, but you have seen his band, Eldia, or his solo project, Franz is Dead, all over town. On his new album, Ah-Leu-Cha, Laurent Blot explores all his musical fantasies, plays with a dreamy line-up, and name-drops the likes of Miles Davis. Thoughts and smiles from an original singer-songwriter.
You were already established as a performer when we arrived in Paris in ‘06 -’07. Can you go over the different band and solo projects that you took on?
I started with home-recording my first songs on a four-track mixer, and would hand out the EP to some friends. It was a pretty close circle, actually, I had played in some bands a a kid, but we would only play covers, Dylan, The Beatles… Around 2002, I decided to form a band, but didn’t know who to play with. I’ve never really relied on ads, you never know who’s going to show up, if there will be any sort of chemistry, on a personal or musical level. So I ended up asking friends from high school, and this is how it got started. ELDIA’s line-up was settled in 2007 when Adrian came around to play the piano. Franz Is Dead is my megalomaniac corner, where I can do whatever I want!
How did Ah-Leu-Cha come to be, and what is the evolution since your first solo project (Sara, released in 2007)?
It might sound stupid, but it was the first time I realized I actually liked all the songs, and thought they would fit! It’s not always the case, there are always songs that are just fillers, good ideas that never evolved into anything more substantial; but that’s not the case with this album. I improved on a technical level, as a musician, and regarding the recording and mixing process as well. I’m also playing with a fantastic backing band: Remi and Olivier from Syd Matters, Hadrien from Shit Browne, Michel from Hey Hey My My… the line-up of the band changes according to personal schedules.
What is the inspiration behind Franz Is Dead? How did you come up with that name?
The idea for Franz goes back to my years as a film student. I went through a huge Kafka phase, I even tried to shoot an adaptation of “Metamorphosis”. It was a complete failure, that was when I realized I was more of a musician than a director. Bit by bit, it turned into Franz Is Dead. At some point I wanted to change the name, I thought it sounded dark and depressing, but my friends said they liked it, so I kept it.
How did Miles Davis influence the new record?
I was always listening to “Round bout midnight” a lot when I discovered Davis, and also Coltrane, whose sound is featured on the album. I may have referenced Davis in the album title just to prove I wasn’t just about the Beatles! You’re the first one to make the link with Miles, actually; everyone thinks it has to do with my daughter or my cat.
You are self-produced and rely a lot on internet-based networking sites such as Facebook and MySpace – like many contemporary artists. Does it give you more leeway once you’re free from the reigns of a record company, or would you rather do things the old-fashioned way? Is it still the ultimate dream to bag the recording contract with a major label?
I’m not going to deny the revolutionary role of Internet in finding and sharing music; you can record a song in the morning and everyone will have listened to it by the end of the afternoon. And the other side of the coin is that everyone now has the possibility to distribute their music, and those who stand out in the crowd are those supported by a label and who can afford publicity. It has now become a major selling point to say you have been “discovered on the Internet”, but most of the time it’s just a lie. Lily Allen should be grateful for her dad, not MySpace. I guess it’s now even harder to be spotted than it was, say, ten years ago; you have to be extremely present as a live performer, create a little buzz that could go up to the ears of a potential record label, a distributor, a publisher…. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy with what I do and how I do it, but I could definitely use the financial support of a label. I have a publisher, though, which is a good start!
How do you perceive the evolution of the Parisian scene and the role of small to medium-sized venues (La Flèche d’Or, Tryptique…) or the cult-classic ones (Scopitone, Baron…) and their role in promoting, pushing new bands?
La Flèche d’Or is, hands-down, the biggest discovery machine of those last few years. You could check out international bands (Blood Red Shoes, Peter Björn & John, Figurines…) on the same bill as local, emerging bands (Stuck in the Sound, Hey Hey My My…) It was a really good era. It’s been much more formal since the re-opening. It might look more professional, but it’s lacking that soul that made it what it was. I’ve never been that present at the Paris-Paris, or at the Baron. I did play there, but it never seemed to have that big an impact on an artist’s career, only specifically in the city. It looks good on a resume though! I love Le Motel, it’s sort of our headquarters. I hang out with a lot of cool bands there, really fun and crazy atmosphere!
How is ELDIA doing and what are the band’s projects for the year to come?
We’re always felt we were part of the Parisian scene while still feeling a bit on the outside! All of our friends have signed a contract, found a touring manager, released an album about two years ago; it’s only just happening now for us, and we’re still trying to tour. People are very uptight, they don’t want to take risks or lose any money, so they’re waiting for someone to support them so they can support us. They are still stuck on the “revival” image we had three years ago, when we were heavily influenced by the Beatles and the Kinks. It’s no longer the case, but you’d have to listen to the album to realize we have more interesting things to offer! The idea is to play a lot, tour a lot, to sell records, to make a little money so we can record the next album. We are trying to export ourselves, mostly in Scandinavia, where people seem more interested in our music than they are in France. I’m leaving soon, actually, to live in Stockholm for 6 months.
Buy Ah-Leu-Cha on iTunes or any Emergence Music stores // Read our review (published on March 6) //
BRMC – Beat The Devil’s Tattoo
They are the smart-asses of rock’n'roll. You know you want to hate them, but their talent is overwhelming. After exploring the various extremes of rock’n'roll in their first two albums, circulating around rhythm’n'blues and punk, they eventually looked at an entirely different direction (is it ?) with the pivotal third album, « Howl », a sound echoing its title, a blues/gospel record that wrenches the insides and slices the heart. A brief return to their roots with « Baby 81 » in 2008 confirmed them as the guitar band California hadn’t seen since The Black Keys. Warm, devilish, curious and ingenuous, BRMC now delivers a much expected dark, fuel-engineered record.
BRMC come across as tough: from the band name (« Black Rebel Motorcycle Club », a tribute to outlaw motorcycle gangs ) to song titles (« Weapon of choice », « Cold Wind »), their rushed and fast-paced debut (the brain-smashing, magnificent « Whatever happened to my rock’n'roll ? ») BRMC no longer have anything to prove. They however remain the unchallenged owners of the town’s saloon, possessively keeping guard over their territory. The sound grows in intensity, becomes more obscure, more menacing, with the crooked smile of the man loading his gun. « I felt the needle through / you beat the devil’s tattoo » establishes the setting of the album, not out of place on a Sam Peckinpah soundtrack.
So there is a way to reconcile blues, tambourine claps and modern guitar riffs ; there is a way to pay tribute to the country roots of rock’n'roll yet not forget the times-changing and rules-breaking attitude of punk. Johnny Cash would be proud of his ideological grandsons : « Conscience Killer » is nothing more than a sunbathed, diesel-smelling and leather chaps-wearing punk anthem. Obsessed by the dichotomy between good and evil ever since they first jumped on the scene, exploring their god-abiding side, they could not escape fate and started erring on the edge of those who have fallen. They are now done with their struggle ; wrestling with their own souls, they ended up pinning it to the dirty soil, next to a growing Joshua tree, and buried their love right next to it in « Bad Blood ».
One of the most intriguing songs of the record is « War Machine », oversaturating the guitar and twisting bass effects to produce a muffled sound, thumping and growling, following a voice distorted by distance and wounds. Closer to Brian Eno than Wagner, this march towards a guaranteed violent death is calling for immortality, « keeping the heart alive », for it is the only body part worth saving ; responsible for both your life and your demise, cruelty and sadism are given a sense of tainted beauty that can only be found in the despair of blues. Vocal echoes and prophetic lyrics were once the weapon of one sole band, but Muse has long since lost the battle, and BRMC are taking over their turf with the dangerosity and fear their name only can create. It is unclear whether this war machine is one to destroy or to worship at, but the fascination surrounding the last minutes of existence never leaves BRMC’s records.
The mythological Devil makes an almost personified appearance on « Mama taught me better », in a bone-chilling intro and a rhythm that calls to mind the urgency and recklessness of « Stop ». For once, the voice is high above the rest, crystal clear and enouncing the truths we do not want to hear. A Mephistopheles smoking filter-less cigarettes and touring with a rock’n'roll band, his tattoo could be the scar from a nine millimeter bullet hole through a family man’s conscience. Words stutter, jaws drop, and consciousness blurs. It doesn’t take much to amuse the Big Man ; eventually he just wants to dance . But even the Devil has morning-afters. They just require a powerful bass and twelve-chords guitars : « Will you lay me down / where very song is the saddest song », he implores on « River Styx ».
Here’s for redemption : « Sweet Feeling » proves there will always be a vein pumping in that discarded heart of theirs, a feeling that has disappeared, gone, slipped from their grasp, but is always welcome to return, with no held grudge, no disappointment, no complaint and no regret. Is love what can beat the devil’s tattoo ? « Evol » gives the answer : « you say it feels like love / I don’t want to feel love again ». U2 once said that the only hands that build yet also pull down are the hands of love. In BRMC’s case, they were holding the needle gun.
The undertow is pulling me back to sea
© 2009 Christian Delavie
There is something very compelling about the four tracks I got to hear off Ashton Glover’s upcoming EP, though it may take the casual listener a few spins to get into his rougher and more unpolished sound. If you like your music raw and stripped down, this is about as bare as it gets, and for all that Glover could definitely benefit from a singing lesson or two, his throaty vocals have a definite passion to them, especially in the second track, “The Sea and the Sailor.” The coarseness of Glover’s voice compliments the wistfulness of the lyrics and overall, his sound is reminiscent of a younger and less-experienced Brian Fallon in an acoustic session.
Elliott Smith also came to mind while listening to Glover’s tracks, most likely because of their rolling acoustic melodies, which are the sure and steady foundation to a set of songs that wobble a bit in other places. Transitioning seamlessly from soft to loud and from quick and staccato to slow and smooth, the guitar work lends the EP a depth it probably would not otherwise have, and if there’s any common theme running through Glover’s tunes, it can most likely be found there. Each song has a similar feel but not so similar that I felt as though I was listening to the same thing over and over again and I was pleasantly surprised by the nuances I could still notice on a third or fourth listen. Glover infuses the traditional folk-y sound of acoustic guitar with a kind of punk edge which adds a touch of spark and originality to what is in other regards clearly a novice effort.
Glover’s weakness lies in his lyrical and narrative capabilities. He lists the Gaslight Anthem as a musical influence, something that he almost doesn’t have to do because his gritty style is so similar. However, where Fallon uses simplicity to create complexity in his lyrics, Glover doesn’t quite always manage to get beyond the former to the latter, though he does make the attempt. The chorus on the track “You Ain’t Standin’ Alone” is especially grating in this sense, with Glover laboring to belt out lyrics like, “I won’t compromise/my love is sacrifice”. The lack of original and compelling description in the lyrics makes Glover’s songs haunting but incomplete and a bit inauthentic and the four songs I heard didn’t leave me with a great sense of who Ashton Glover is as an artist. It’s not that what he writes isn’t poetic or evocative, just that all the different things evoked don’t necessarily always connect in a way that seems all that specific to Glover or to a specific narrative.
Lyrics aside, however, his way with a guitar and unhindered vocals make Ashton Glover one to watch out for. The style isn’t one for everyone but I do encourage anyone who’s a fan of Brian Fallon’s acoustic tracks and earlier work to give Glover’s future EP a few spins.
Check Ashton Glover’s MySpace
Ellie Goulding – Lights
Perhaps it seemed a bit premature when 22-year-old Ellie Goulding received the Brits Critics’ Choice Award recently. After all, the Herefordshire-born pop singer’s debut album, Lights, hadn’t yet been released. Meanwhile, fellow nominees Delphic’s debut, Acolyte, had recently dropped to almost unanimously positive reviews, and Marina’s The Crown Jewel’s E.P. was devoured by fans worldwide last year.
Of course, Goulding’s first single, “Under The Sheets,” was moderately successful, reaching number 53 in the U.K. singles charts, and her second, “Starry Eyed,” was performing considerably better; it reached number 4. Still, one had to wonder if she would deliver an album worthy of the hype.
And there was certainly plenty of hype. For at least a year, the name Ellie Goulding had been inescapable in the so-called blogosphere. Her singles and countless remixes, both official and unofficial, spread like wildfire, making Lights one of the most anticipated debut albums since, well, Little Boots and La Roux.
Now, with its March 16th U.K. release, one can finally answer the question: does Lights deliver? Alternatively, does Goulding measure up to the hype behind her?
The answers are yes and no, respectively.
But let’s dismiss the hype first. Because, let’s face it, there aren’t many albums – of any genre – that can live up to the sort of expectations audiences have for Ms. Goulding. I would dare to say that those who’ve already started calling themselves fans after falling in love with her first two singles are expecting more from her than her own record label. They’ve built her up to be monstress of pop on the same level as Lady GaGa. Well, maybe they’re not putting her that high up on the pedestal, but, still, expectations are so high that people seem bound to be disappointed. Similar to Little Boots debut. Little Boots delivered a fabulous album (Hands, 679/Atlantic) after the wonderful singles she’d released beforehand, but the work wasn’t embraced nearly as much as it would have been if people hadn’t already proclaimed her the second coming of Madonna or Kylie.
That’s the danger in releasing a handful of superb singles before your debut album: there’s always the risk that people will like them so much that the album will pale in comparison. Much in the same way that many great sophomore albums have flopped, as if they were guilty of the sophomore slump when in fact they were not. They just could not compare in people’s eyes and ears. These days especially, with digital singles and leaks going viral within hours, the listening audience has developed such an attention deficit disorder that people are already feeling nostalgic for the old you before your first album is released.
Having already heard the first two singles more times than I could count, along with a couple of her other songs that hit the net many moons ago, I’ll admit that I wasn’t hugely impressed the first time I listened to Lights. The album is a bit short at 10 songs, and those that were entirely new to me struck me as filler compared to those I already knew and loved. Of course, I was fully aware that it was only because I’d heard the familiar songs so many times that they were etched in my brain as contemporary pop classics already. Upon repeated listenings, the newer songs quickly began to hook me with their infectious beats and memorable hooks. A ballad entitled “The Writer,” in particular, dazzled with its beautiful lyrics and Motown girl group-flavored melody. “Why don’t you be the artist and make me out of clay,” she sings in her high vibrato.
“Every Time You Go,” another track I hadn’t heard before, was especially strong. If Hall & Oates wrote a dance pop song for Lily Allen, I imagine it would sound an awful lot like this. (Perhaps The Bird and The Bee’s forthcoming album of Hall & Oates covers might be in this ballpark?) Her voice reminded me of a contemporary female artist as I listened to it over and over again, however. Eventually, it occurred to me that I was thinking of none other than Natasha Khan, otherwise known as Bat For Lashes. Sometimes Goulding sings in a light, fluttery manner that sounds so similar it’s almost creepy, but their styles of music are so different I doubt they’ll garner many comparisons.
Overall, Lights is a truly wonderful pop album mature enough to please fans of Lily Allen and Goldfrapp – thanks in part to the top notch electro-pop production of Starsmith and influence of Frankmusik - yet still radio-friendly/mainstream enough that it might crossover to the Girls Aloud and Sugababes audience as well.
Frightened Rabbit – The winter of mixed drinks
The prodigal Scots have returned. Two years after their sophomore album received critical acclaim, this shy band, self-effacing and with a seemingly unwillingly charistmatic frontman, are releasing their third effort, The Winter of Mixed Drinks. It’s another drink raised high in salute to deceived hopes and unrequited love. They pulled themselves out of the undertow of The Midnight Organ Fight, and learned to swim across enraged seas and vengeful oceans. Who will win the fight between man and sea is a story no one is yet able to tell, but Frightened Rabbit are set on recording the learning curve.
March is the month of spring, of rejuvenation, renewal and the shedding of old skin. After the heavy burden of The Midnight Organ Fight, that “one pint of a low from a holy ghost”, Frightened Rabbit deliver an album that lays down opportunities for rebirth: “I’ll never need these things / we won’t be going back/ so we can drop the past”. A radical turn around from their previous opus in which said past was manufactured into a weapon of sorts. Opening with “Things” is a manifesto of hope and a possible future.
This theme lingers on to the ever so beautiful “Swim Until You Can’t See Land”, another motto to live by, another declaration of rejection and the pointlessness of holding onto what is already declined in the past tense. A second chorus listing the what ifs, the poison of regret, Frightened Rabbit’s sublime art lies within the faults and the cracks that make us inexorably human, all wrapped into fluid and painfully trans-lucid melodies, piercing through a skin that can only be cleansed by the sea. A tribute to their seafront Scotland, the coda of the song is timeless.
Lest we believe the anger of the previous album has been lightly discarded, “The Loneliness And The Scream” is about pointed guilt, the desire to exist in someone else’s eyes, and the various stages of grief endured by the one left behind. A follow-up to 2008’s “I Feel Better”, a rhythmic hand-clapping chorus will be the therapeutic high point onstage, a collective catharsis supported by “Skip The Youth”, where aspirations, dreams and ambitions are confronted with experience, scars and stitches.
The schizophrenic “Wrestle” shows that it is more than the story told of a man who emerged on the other side of heartbreak. This album has the timing of one still stuck in the process of getting out, struggling between the comfort and stability of self-deprecation and the necessity to launch one’s own survival instinct. The haunting line “I need a place to lie/ Guess a grave will have to do” illustrates a self-awareness so particular to Frightened Rabbit, whose songs are a bleeding legacy of failed existentialism.
“Nothing Like You”, a potent single, is fast, efficient, and starts with the definitive “this is a story and you’re not in it”, stating everything and its contrary at the same moment, with the same poetic wit so dear to their songwriting style. It becomes hard to envision love and its consequences as anything else but a battlefield in which lovers would dance their separation through, a dark vision of a perverted, reversed courtship model. The song, carefully crafted but short, is the Polaroid of a drunken night we can barely remember come the morning.
The high note of the album remains “Living In Color”, a joyful, cheerful, bright melody that rises the listener out of their slumber and plunges them into the undecipherable light of the blind discovering shapes and curves and guessing at ultra-violets. Those mixed drinks may go from the obscurity of absinthe and the pure folly of gin to the bright-headed vodka and the colorful martini, the different stages of the puzzled heart in the process of recovery, the body washed away to the shore and trying to call its limbs back to life and movement. From the desperation of immobility and lack of control, to the possibilities of being one’s master again and starting a brand new life on a not-so-isolated island, The Winter of Mixed Drinks is a firecracker, an unexpected hymn to life after death.
Good Shoes – No Hope, No Future
Taking some time after their 2007 debut, “Think before you speak”, the Morden quartet returns with a frightening entitled sophomore tentative, settling them in the department of witty yet cynical lyrics, chronicling a London life far away from the glamorous or humorous images brought by contemporaries Lily Allen or The Libertines. Closer to a desillusioned Jamie T or a faithless Frank Turner, Good Shoes are trying to find their own sound, their own place, and ultimately, their own future.
Musically, their imprint remains the same: the album opens on “The way my heart beats”, with the same thumping drums and crystal-clear guitar chords that had made their mark on the “The photos on my wall” on the previous opus. It somehow feels like the singer is a less impressed by the emotions he is trying to convey, with a matter-of-factly “it’s the way my heart beat/ever so softly”, stating the obvious more than trying himself at a heartfelt confession. The chorus, a running “I move on / to someone else” plants the decor of an album that is decidedly darker than what they had promised us it would be when delivering a scared yet cheerful East London premiere three years ago. “Everything you do” goes further away into the dark depths of a depressive mind, Rhys Jones’ channeling a young Morrissey in the witty, quirky wallowing “Sometimes … I find I … see things another way entirely”. The guitar feedback ends abruptely, the way the little hope within unrequited love sometimes does.
“I know” is a faithful, straightforward attempt at regaining control over one’s fate, destiny, and territory. “Under control” continues in the same vein, a powerful rythmic line that gives the bass more reign than it ever did on previous songs; could this be the unmistakable growing-up sign? A little more structure, a tinge of confidence that had hardly seeped in, the self-convinced “I got this under control” is giving Good Shoes the street rally cry they had missed in their stories as witnessing drug dealing and riding late night Northern Line trains. “The more I want, the less I feel it / The more I get, the less I need it” is delivered in another disabused tone, betraying the premise of a wrathful conquest, of a revolutionary outcome would be justified by the seemingly obscure and walled-up surroundings of their narrative. Bass and drums are trying to break up the wall, the guitar is obviously sending destructive wavelengths, but the vocals are left behind, calling their efforts useless and fruitless. It is a stark contrast that has evidently been announced in the album’s title, but tends more to the nihilistic new-wave ideology than the punk revolution so dear to Good Shoes’ homeland.
Recorded by themselves for the relatively minor sum of £5,000, No Hope, No Future is more about anxiety and gloom than their previous album, the story of which revolved around the cheap and quick joys of suburban life. It sounds faster, older, and a bit deeper, but it is mostly due to a constant feeling of claustrophobia and blindedness that does befit the times. “Times Change” and “Then She Walks Away” would not have been out of place on a Smiths or Futureheads album, so easy it is to feel the London drizzle wet your jaded face. The theme of childhood pictures, that had been mentioned in their freshman effort, is revived here as well with the same disappointment and discontentment of having lost one’s innocence and easygoing entertaining quirks. If maturity is a subject that has yet to be exhausted in rock’n'roll – be it the growing-up phase or the lack thereof – it sounds daunting and scary to Good Shoes, for whom “success is not as successful as it used to be”. They haven’t lost any of their danceable beats, but this album might be the soundtrack to one of the coldest winters known to Londontown.
Citizen Radio Live at the UCB
l. to r., Janeane Garofalo, Allison Kilkenny, Matt Taibbi, Jamie Kilstein and Jeremy Scahill
“Bipartisanship… Let me tell you, Barack Obama, because I am sure you are listening, I would love to be in a Martin Scorsese movie, I would love to! But there are more chances of it happening than bipartisanship.” Nineteen minutes into the hour-long first live performance of long-standing underground classic Citizen Radio, Janeane Garofalo sets the tone. Uncompromising and ruthless, Citizen Radio provided the best political and musical line-up for liberal New Yorkers. The only complaint? That I wasn’t there.
From the moment Jamie Kilstein and Allison Kilkenny announced the UCB Theater had agreed to let them freewheel for an hour, anxiety seeped in. Unjustifiably so. Tickets sold out within a couple of weeks. Breakthru Radio should be proud. Free of any censorship, political correctness, or morally bankrupt political positions, Citizen Radio delivered. Ceaselessly.
Jack Dishel, in his usual wallflowery, self-deprecative style starts a song claiming that he “like(s) these people… I was listening to them have a conversation backstage… I’m a dummy.” The result or, as he called it, “the fruit of his stupidity” is a simple yet sophisticated acoustic number revealing the sensitivity and ethereal voice he demonstrated as part of the Moldy Peaches. A heartbreaking “It’s a Boy” heavily contrasts with Garofalo’s stand-up of a few minutes before, plunging the attendees into a daze. A man so self-effacing he appears out of place and out of time in this hilarious yet solemnly aware setting, Dishel, known as “Only Son” in his solo ventures, branches out to a calm and attentive audience. More than a time-out from war stories and calls to activism, Dishel underlines the empathy and artistic sensitivity often mentioned by Kilkenny and Kilstein as the backbone of ideology. Dishel, who had an Electric Bowery show scheduled for the next day, seems to rejoice in the challenge.
Once Matt Taibbi explains the reason why Goldman Sachs is the obscure driving force behind the economic crisis, it was only a matter of minutes before he compared the level of political corruption to that of Russia, where he co-edited a newspaper for expatriates and where “[corruption] in the United States is at a level Russia can only dream of”. If you thought groundbreaking, opinionated and fearless political standpoints could not become more controversial, you weren’t counting on Jeremy Scahill, who broke the story on Blackwater. Telling Jamie Kilstein why there is a bit more to it than the plot of an amazing ninja/zombie movie, Scahill retorts: “What could go wrong when you have a Christian supremacist whose mission in life is to literally kill Muslims and wipe out Islam globally? What could possibly go wrong with sending his forces into a Muslim country that you’re liberating? I love the Kool-Aid drinkers from the Obama camp who thought they would do away with that […] Blackwater is now betting for a one million dollar contract to train the Afghan national police. This is a company that slaughtered civilians in cold blood in the words of the FBI”.
At this stage, it is hardly surprising that Democracy Now’s very own Amy Goodman took out of her extremely busy schedule to attend the live airing. Scahill fondly recalls his work with Goodman at the 2000 Republican National Convention, with the enthusiasm and the unconcealed joy of a child reckoning his days at summer camp. This is what Citizen Radio finally settles into – a convention, a panel of investigative journalists breaking down into the details of severely physically hurting James O’Keefe. Who knew that progressive were so into collective bar fights? Jon Stewart recently commented on Glenn Beck and his easy, throwaway, borderline insulting labels of liberals: “So progressives … are slow, unarmed communists?” Citizen Radio proves to be the exact opposite.
Visit wearecitizenradio.com // Check out breakthruradio.com // join the Citizen Radio facebook group // Read Matt Taibbi on True/Slant // Read Allison Kilkenny // Check out Jamie Kilstein’s stand up // Listen to Jack Dishel // Visit the UCB: New York / Los Angeles
School’s out for summer
The race is on for the biggest summer festivals. Line-ups for Bonaroo, Oxegen and T in the Park are now circulating on the web and with most concert ticket sellers. If the UK is incontestably the best music-breeder with hot tickets such as Glastonbury and Leeds, Ireland, Scotland and Tennessee are now entering the race with enthused competitiveness: the headliners are the same, the dates themselves are also identical (!) but thankfully some new faces and places are rising under the soon-to-be-blazing sun… here is what you should expect.
Reading Festival, 2000
When Eminem said he was relapsing, he was not kidding. The biggest rapper to have emerged out of the previous decade released his “comeback” album last year, the appropriately named “Relapse” and is celebrating is newfound sober self by headlining both T in the Park and Glastonbury, a strange feat for outlets with an extremely rock’n'roll reputation. The self-proclaimed Elvis Presley of rap (sic) might enjoy a good turn-out, on reputation and curiosity alone. He will be assisted in the rhyming representation by the all-encompassing Jay-Z, who long decided to cross every musical line.
Kasabian are on a roll since the release of the critically acclaimed “West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum”, touring Europe, the States, your local gym, as well as headlining both Oxegen and T in the Park. After first having enjoyed a relatively underground following, the crazyheads led by a hairdressing-challenged Tom Meighan are now breaking every single rule of indie rock and enjoying folk guitars as well as stomping mainstream, synth-driven anthems (such as the grandiloquent “Vlad the Impaler”, that I will personally enjoy very, very, very much). Ever so ubiquitous, Kasabian are at their best when performing live, branching out to their instincts rather than inner rationale to give new depth, dimension and energy to their songs.
Florence + The Machine, The Black Eyed Peas and Vampire Weekend will also spend their summer on the small roads and camping fields of
Glastonbury '09
Western Europe, taking their extremely successful albums out to ever-so-joyful festival crowds. Also to note, the return of the Stereophonics on the circuit, the Welsh band having taken a small break after the departure of their long-standing drummer, and releasing “Keep Calm and Carry On” last October. Gossip, The Temper Trap and Mumford & Sons – all of them boasted to be the biggest successes of 2009, will gracefully traipse over to Oxegen as well, along with Rise Against!, Hot Chip, and recent award-winner Ellie Goulding, as a part of her first tour. We have known of smaller (yet harder) crowds to debut with.
The award for the most eclectic line-up goes to new arrival Bonaroo, in the vast prairies of Tennessee, booking bands from The Black Keys to OkGo!, The National and personal favorite Julia Nunes, the former YouTube sensation turned indie star, and whose adorable and carefully crafted songs will for sure find their place in such a convivial setting. Bonaroo has become a quick favorite for its vast variety of music, its accessible stages and a very friendly feeling that had long become the exclusivity of borderline biblical Glastonbury. Kings of Leon, Tori Amos and a surprise appearance by Stevie Wonder complete a stellar line-up, alongside many other acts I simply do not have enough space to mention.
Glastonbury sets itself apart, not just by name (the full-on “Glastonbury Festivals of Performing Arts”, all plural) honoring its tradition of respecting independant ethics and diversity of choice, by being entirely sold out. The announcement was made today, which is unsurprising considering the quality and rarity of guests such as U2 or the Rolling Stones at such events. Wolf Mother, Pearl Jam and folk legend Christy Moore will keep them in good company, while Julian Casablancas and The Cribs will try to keep the pace. Rumors also include Lady Gaga, MGMT, and just about every other über-hyped musical act on the spectrum, including bands already mentioned in the other festivals. “Glasto” being a unique experience ever since its implementation in the early 70s, popularized by Joe Strummer’s campfires, if a slightly expected line-up seems offputting, it is also a once-in-a-lifetime journey not to be missed.
Dates :
Bonaroo : June 10- 11 -12 -13 in Manchester, Tennessee
Glastonbury : June 23 – 24 – 25 – 26 – 27, Worthy Farm, Pilton
Oxegen : July 9 – 10 – 11 at the Punchestown Racecourse, Ireland
T in the Park : July 9 – 10 – 11 at Balado, Kinrossshire, Scotland
Tickets for Oxegen go on sale on March 12th at 2008 prices // Tickets for T in the Park are already on pre-sale on ticketmaster.com and nme.com
