Young, Gifted & Blog

Album review: The Breeders

2009-08-04T14:03:00.000Z

The Breeders
Mountain Battles

Label: 4AD
Website: www.4ad.com/breeders

Rating: 4.5 out of 5

Every true indie fan has a place in their heart for Kim Deal. Without her steady no-nonsense bass lines and half-vulnerable, half-steely vocals, The Pixies just wouldn’t have been the same.

With The Breeders, Deal showed she could front a band just as well. With this, their first record since 2002’s Title TK, The Breeders have returned to show us just what alternative music should be.

Poppy, defiant, unconventional, raucous and clever, Mountain Battles is fresher and much, much better than you might have expected.

It’s The Love is a toe-tapping triumph and serves to remind us why Kim Deal was Kurt Cobain’s favourite Pixie while German Studies is surely the best German-language song since 99 Luftballons.

Here No More is gorgeous Americana folk that, although different from the typical Breeders sound, is both beautiful and haunting. Istanbul, with its exotic syncopation and alternately sinuous and declarative vocals is like auditory ambrosia. Regalame Esta Noche (a cover) is a fabulous, twinkling Spanish Harlem prom night confection, all satin pillows and heartache.

Mountain Battles is a great record and one that proves that Kim Deal is more than just the ex-bassist of the Pixies, more than just part of music’s history, resigned to the past.

She’s a bona fide legend, a talented songwriter with bags more imagination, inventiveness and playfulness than most of her successors or contemporaries.

Album review: The Long Blondes

2009-08-04T14:00:00.000Z

The Long Blondes
Couples

Label: Rough Trade
Website: www.thelongblondes.co.uk

Rating: 3 out of 5

The Long Blondes set the bar high with their triumphant 2006 debut, Someone To Drive You Home. An infectious pop gem, full of kitchen-sink drama, urban decay and bingo-hall glamour, it set The Long Blondes up as the new Pulp; part disco glitz, part ladies-night-at-the-greyhound-track.

Their new record, Couples, sees the band trying to extend and broaden their musical horizons, with longer, darker tracks like I’m Going To Hell, Too Clever By Half and Nostalgia, alongside trademark indie-disco pop stormers like The Couples and Here Comes The Serious Bit.

Lead singer Kate Jackson has certainly improved her range, and the rest of the band have all clearly improved as musicians. However, this record sees them too interested in showing off their new skills – the razor-sharp pop nous given way to self-conscious capability.

Production by Erol Alkan is too smooth, too Blondie-redux . The Long Bondes’ charm was that they looked like the cool gang at school, at once accessible (“Hey guys, let’s start a band!”) and aspirational (who doesn’t want to be in an arty band and hang out with good-looking hipsters)?

In raising their musical game, The Long Blondes have dampened the youthful, almost instinctual ear for pop that made them so exciting and fun.

Granted, Couples has its share of great tracks but it also has its fair share of mediocre disco noodling. Plus, the album’s irritating inclusion of snippets of movie dialogue gives it a really amateurish, Sixth Form feel.

Album review: Foals

2009-08-04T13:58:00.000Z

Foals
Antidotes

Label: Transgressive
Website: www.wearefoals.com

5 out of 5

There’s a dark place between rock and dance, a treacherous battleground that has seen many casualties and cadavers, many a fly-by-night chancer and one-hit wonder. In the past, these musical hybrids were to be approached with extreme caution.

Not so in the Noughties. Recent years have seen a resurgence in indie-dance including The Gossip’s dancefloor punk, CSS’ day-glo gal-rock and Klaxon’s award-winning nu-rave concoctions, to name but a few. And if you thought all this was good, wait till you get a load of Foals.

From the sparse, angular funk of The French Open to the mosquito-itch of Tron, Foals’ Antidotes is a record to be reckoned with. A brilliantly realised bit of dancy art-rock, this is a record that you sling on after the pub – safe in the knowledge that it’s appeal encompasses cooler-than-thou hipsters and people who, y’know, just wanna groove.

With Antidotes, Foals have cemented their place as one of the bands of 2008, their debut possibly the album of the year. And I say this with confidence, despite it being only February/March, because it’s rare that a record appears that seems to so perfectly capture the essence of a moment in time, that harnesses the zeitgeist and rides it ragged, whipping it into submission.

Foals are here to excite you, to get your toes tapping, your fingers snapping and your hips shaking. Who are you to argue?

Album review: Adam Green

2009-08-04T13:57:00.001Z

Adam Green
Sixes and Sevens

Label: Rough Trade
Website: www.adamgreen.net

5 out of 5

With Moldy Peaches songs featured heavily on the soundtrack of this year’s indie film hit, Juno, now is a great time for a new Adam Green record.

New album Sixes and Sevens sees Green maturing from DIY indie hipster to a singer songwriter with the potential to reach a broader crossover audience. And while crossover success is often accompanied by a watering-down of the artist’s original creative spark, Sixes and Sevens is as fresh, inventive and wilfully odd as one would expect

Rarely weighing in over 3 minutes, each of the 20 songs on this album lays testament to Green’s fecundity, creativity and skill, from Festival Song, a 2.25 minute hallelujah, to That Sounds Like A Pony, a track that hovers somewhere between indie rap (seriously) and spoken-word poetry.

The anthemic Getting Led – a firm fan favourite – is hypnotic, joyous and uplifting. A sure-fire crossover hit if ever I’ve heard one. I’ve got to give snaps to Tropical Island – a Fifties love-croon, with a candy calypso beat and marvellously oblique lyrics such as “courageous doofus by design / blankets filled with iodine” and “ring ding battering ram“.

Morning After Midnight is defiantly grandiose, with a full compliment of musicians, including a horn section and choir. A full-on bluesy belter, this is as far away from a shambolic indie one-man band as you can get. Contrast it with the delicate strum of It’s A Fine, the whimsical shuffle of Grandma Shirley and Papa, the romantic fire of Homelife and you start to get an idea of just how many strings Green has to his bow.

Much like a burlier-sounding Sufjan Stevens, Adam Green has a unique musical vision, a particular way of putting things together than means he sounds unlike anyone else. I mean, how many people could put together a song that is part vaudeville, part Russian fugue, that begins with the words, “Ricky, why so sticky?” and have it actually work? You get the picture.

Green’s music is witty, idiosyncratic and a joy to listen to. His deep baritone, like that of Lou Reed, imbues even the wackiest couplets with a warmth and richness that gives them strength and vigour.

Green deserves to do well with this, one of the most varied and consistently good records this reviewer has heard in a looong time.

Live review: Morrissey

2009-08-04T13:51:00.002Z

Morrissey
Sunderland Empire
1st February 2008

Great gigs are magical. At a great gig, even the most jaded hack is transformed into true believer, Number One Fan. At a great gig, every song is an anthem, every quip the stuff of legend. The shoddiest of venues is transposed into a Valhalla of sound, a gilded palace of music. Great gigs are as rare as hen’s teeth, and this was one of them.

As soon as you stepped into the theatre, you knew that this was a place Morrissey would love. An ornate confection of gilt and glamour, the Sunderland Empire Theatre evokes the rich history of drama and entertainment from music hall to pantomime and everything in between - a particular kind of Englishness that Moz relishes.

Support tonight comes from splendid all-girl grungy, Texan trio, Girl In A Coma and in between acts, the theatre thrums and vibes with hungry anticipation, while The Ramones, The Crystals and Martha Reeves and The Vandellas throb through the PA.

All about, a large contingent of be-quiffed men, young and middle-aged alike, visibly shake and jitter with expectation. Beers are quaffed to slake thirst and kill time, the steady hum of conversation growing as more people drift to their seats.

Suddenly, darkness. A roar erupts: “Morrissey!” The man appears and the place goes absolutely bananas. The crowd surges forward. The seated leap to their feet. People are screaming. Grown men have tears in their eyes. There is a strange feeling in the air, part religious ecstasy, part orgiastic frenzy. And it’s brilliant.

Tuxedo-ed and sparking, Morrissey launches into Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before. In reclaiming his song from the recent clutches of the hit parade, Morrissey stakes his claim and completely slays his audience, leaving them slaphappy and supine, ready to welcome his every utterance with nothing short of pure adoration.

Moz himself was in great form, constantly chatting and joking around with the audience. And this from a man often touted as the very apogee of grumpiness!

Morrissey rattled through tracks such as Last Of The Famous International Playboys, The Loop (its frenzied rockabilly thrash a particular highlight), Death Of A Disco Dancer, Stretch Out And Wait, I Just Want To See The Boy Happy and First Of The Gang To Die with unabashed brio.

With the strains of a beautifully heartbreaking rendition of Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want ringing in our ears, we are sent back out into the February night, with no fear of the biting North East wind. A great gig keeps you warm at night. A great gig is something special indeed.

Album review: Hot Chip

2009-08-04T13:50:00.000Z

Hot Chip
Made In The Dark

Label: EMI
Release date: 4th February 2008

Website: www.hotchip.co.uk

Rating: 4 out of 5

After the success of 2005’s much-lauded The Warning, Hot Chip have a lot to live up to. Luckily, Made In The Dark is an interesting album, with many interesting layers and surprises laying in wait.

Album opener Out At The Pictures segues from an electronic fugue to all-out funky retro barnstormer, all syncopated beats and funky synth, with a slightly strange Saturday morning kids’ cartoon vibe about it.

Shake A Fist has something of Radiohead about it, a dark counterpoint to the softer moments on the album with blazing rave synths halfway through injecting a thrilling dose of menace. Still undeniably toe-tapping, this track is a perfect example of Hot Chip’s ability to produce melodic, danceable electronica.

Ready For The Floor is a beautifully made track that references a history of British electronic music, from Yazoo and The Pet Shop Boys to Orbital and µ-Ziq. The title track here is tenderness personified, a pure slice of feeling that elevates the band to new levels.

So, a cracking sophomore effort from a band that, it could be argued, dragged electro-pop back into the mainstream. With a combination of danceable cuts like Hold On and Slower, more atmospheric tracks like Whistle For Will, Hot Chip prove that they’re more than a one-trick pony.

And don’t be put off by any suspicions of nu-rave: Made In The Dark is a great record, and one worthy of a place in anyone’s collection.

Album review: Adrian Crowley

2009-08-04T13:47:00.000Z

Adrian Crowley
Long Distance Swimmer

Label: Tin Angel Records

Website: www.adriancrowley.com
Rating: 4 out of 5

With Long Distance Swimmer, Irish singer-songwriter Adrian Crowley adds his name to the canon of modern singer-songwriters producing brilliant, well-crafted and beautiful records.

Particular highlights include Bless Our Tiny Hearts, a delicate lullaby with melodies that flutter and dance like moths in the moonlight. Star Of The Harbour is sonorous and tender, with gorgeous strings and a beautiful guitar part.

Victoria’s eerie strings and mournful chorus create a dark soundscape, giving this record a depth of feeling that lingers on, haunting like a half-remembered dream. The wild tumult of Harmony Row builds on this dark feeling, adding gothic shades of traditional folk death songs, of Nick Cave’s Murder Ballads.

While Crowley’s style recalls Nick Drake and Fionn Regan, he succeeds nonetheless in carving out a particular niche and creating his own sound. Water and nautical themes, both musical and lyrical, abound.

Like Willy Mason before him, Adrian Crowley betrays a deep connection to water. Thankfully, metaphors of tempestuous seas, mysterious depths and subtle danger are perfectly suited to an album rich with hidden treasure.

Album review: The Young Republic

2009-08-04T13:46:00.000Z

The Young Republic
12 Tales From Winter City

Label: End of the Road

Rating: 4 out of 5

12 Tales From Winter City is the debut album from Nashville-by-way-of-Boston 8-piece The Young Republic.

Their sound is, they claim, based on American folk and rock traditions but, unsurprisingly for a band full of classically trained music students, musical influences also come from further afield. Fusing exotic instruments and lush arrangements with classic American themes and song structures, The Young Republic have crafted a record that is rich and emotive.

Girl From The Northern States recalls Bright Eyes and Counting Crows, all lilting piano and haunting violins. She Comes And Goes is an alt.country rock extravaganza, with mesmerising layers and beautiful strings.

The fact that The Young Republic is made up of so many musicians means that they can share vocal responsibilities, something that adds to the variety in their sound.

Ending the record, Goodbye Town is the kind of bittersweet skiffle shuffle that would bring a tear to a glass eye. Modern Plays is a bit more “rawk”; the band whip up a real frenzy that channels Springsteen and is given depth via cracking backing vocals and fantastic woodwind and strings. Blue Skies is the best song on the album, and the song that most perfectly captures what the band is about.

The Young Republic certainly come close to fitting the bill of being an “American Arcade Fire”, certainly in terms of musicality and sheer numbers. Despite the fact that they plough a slightly less idiosyncratic furrow than their Canadian brethren, The Young Republic’s thrilling take on Americana more than satisfies.

Album review: The Maccabees

2009-08-04T13:45:00.000Z

The Maccabees
Colour It In

Release date: May 7th 2007
Label: Fiction Records
Website: www.themaccabees.co.uk

Rating: 4 out of 5

Let’s not beat around the bush – this is essentially noughties new-wave indie. You’ve heard a lot of stuff like it, but that’s no reason to write The Maccabees off. Singer Orlando Weeks’ quirky vocal delivery may take some getting used to – it’s a bit Dexy’s Midnight Runners – but persevere and you’ll soon uncover a voice that is robust, tender and richly emotive.

About Your Dress and Precious Time are great songs – catchy, inventive and with bags of energy and flair. O.A.V.I.P. is quite Smiths-y, with an addictive backbeat and a great vocal performance from Weeks. Lego is high-octane emotion, urging you on and daring you not to love it.

First Love is a pure rush of endorphins, perfectly capturing the delightful mania and frenzy of unfettered lust/love. Latchmere is a delight - a quintessential British pop song, harking back to days spent at the leisure pool, larking about and generally getting up to no good.

It’s the tinge of existential sadness that elevates the song above the humdrum: “Came out of the changing room and absolutely fuck all had changed/ So I’ll stay in your lanes”. The album closes with the skiffle-shrug of Toothpaste Kisses, a whimsical and lovely song that sets the heart a-flutter.

Showing more than enough promise to be getting on with, The Maccabees have the charm and the talent to win over even the hardest indie heart.

Album review: Wu-Tang Clan

2009-08-04T13:44:00.000Z

Wu-Tang Clan
8 Diagrams

Rating: 3.5 out of 5

With their first album since 2001’s Iron Flag, 8 Diagrams sees the Wu-Tang Clan going back to basics. Rap stars in their own rights, collectively Ghost Face Killah, Method Man, GZA, Reakwon, Inspectah Deck, RZA et al manage to subsume their individual egos and produce an album that, for the most part, is bursting with fresh lyrics and invigorating beats.

Opening with a classic sample, Campfire harks back to the Wu’s roots, back to the mid/late-nineties when they revolutionised rap with their idiosyncratic mix of old school soul samples with menacing beats and razor-sharp rhymes.

Take It Back features some class lyrics, all propelled along on a pulsating bassline that is at once funky and menacing. Rushing Elephants is a classic example of RZA’s fathomless capability for wringing cool beats from the unlikeliest of samples.

The Heart Gently Beats is a rap reimagining of The Beatles’ While My Guitar Gently Weeps and is ruined only by a strange passage of whiny rapping midway through. Still, it features a great vocal from Erykah Badu and instrumental accompaniment from George Harrison’s son, Dhani.

Wolves is a low point – sounding like a second rate Gravel Pit with dubious Funkadelic elements – unsurprising since it features funk godfather George Clinton.

It should be noted that the Clan still adhere to the unfortunate misogyny and homophobia that are, sadly, endemic in much of rap. Whether you choose to interpret this as “realness” or offensive posturing is your choice but, for a group that are clearly talented and intelligent, with a broad spectrum of cultural and intellectual influences, it seems a shame that the language of discrimination remains so prevalent. There. Rant over.

Otherwise, this record is a bit of a return to form for the Wu and will no doubt delight old fans and attract new acolytes.

Album review: Sufjan Stevens

2009-08-04T13:43:00.001Z

Sufjan Stevens
Songs for Christmas

Label: Rough Trade

Rating: 5 out of 5

A box set spanning a mammoth five discs, Sufjan Steven’s Songs for Christmas sold out almost instantly when it came out last year, leaving hordes of indie hipsters questioning the existence of Santa. But weep no more, hipsters! They’ve only gone and re-released it!

Songs For Christmas derives from a yearly tradition in which Sufjan and assorted musical pals would get together and record seasonal songs. This box set collects these recordings and packages them together as one gargantuan box of delights.

With each disc sporting different titles - Peace, Joy, Ding! Dong!, Hark! And Noel - Stevens’ box set runs the gamut of festive music, from delicate Christmassy instrumentals like Lo! How A Rose E’er Blooming to jaunty pop tunes like Get Behind Me, Santa!, all delivered with Stevens’ trademark mix of whimsy and musical mastery.

From classic covers to original recordings, Stevens caters for your every Christmas whim. Jupiter Winter, Christmas in July, Joy To The World and Let’s Boogey To The Elf Dance are particular highlights.

So now’s your chance to bin the office copy of That’s What I Call Xmas Vol 384 – you’ll never need another Christmas record again (except for that Phil Spector record – you know the one).

Album review: Film School

2009-08-04T13:37:00.000Z

Film School
Hideout

Label: Beggars Banquet
Release date: 5th November 2007
Website: www.filmschoolmusic.com

Rating: 4 out of 5

Ok, let me get this off my chest first. My Bloody Valentine. Ride. Swervedriver.

Phew. That felt good. Now that we’ve invoked the gods of nineties shoegaze, we can proceed.

California’s Film School hark back to a simpler age of indie, of vision-obscuring fringes and effects pedals.

Hideout, their second album proper, is an interesting and arresting album that offers much in the way of tempting indie sounds but, it has to be said, does nothing to propel indie forward into new waters. Futurist they are not.

That said, there’s nothing wrong with retro-ism. Hell, Oasis have made a career out of it. And when someone does it well, as Film School have done, it can be a delight. A revelation, even.

The whirling dream pop of Dear Me and the psychedelic stomp of the delightfully titled Sick Hipster Nursed By A Suicide Girl are both highlights that wouldn’t be out of place on any credible indie playlist.

Lectric’s frenetic back-beat propels a whip-sharp rhythm that will have them frugging and shuffling on dark indie dancefloors the world over. Two Kinds is nothing less than beautiful.

A surprising delight of an album. Let yourself be suffused in its beauty, then go dig out Loveless and Nowhere. You’ll be glad you did.

Album review: The Royal We

2009-08-04T13:36:00.000Z

The Royal We
The Royal We

Label: Geographic Music
Release date: 29 October 2007

Website: www.myspace.com/theroyalweee

Rating: 4 out of 5

Picture the scene: Idealistic young American Belle & Sebastian fan dreams of finding like-minded twee pals in Glasgow, moves there and makes friends with hip art students and musicians.

One thing leads to another and said bright young things eventually (and somewhat inevitably) form a sort of free-form band and reign triumphant on the Glasgow indie-scene. This is the story of The Royal We.

With a mix of endearing amateurishness and real pop nous, The Royal We have managed to capture a kind of ephemeral euphoria – the jubilance and adrenaline of being young, hip and arty. It’s catchy, it’s fun and, surprisingly, it’s really good!

Standout track All The Rage starts with promising oo-oo-ahh’s and, with a triumphant “alright!”, launches into an indie-pop stormer, replete with hand-claps and suitably naïf lyrics. Sheer brilliance - its presence would have justified The Royal We’s existence even if the rest of the album hadn’t been such a little cracker.

Three Is A Crowd and French Legality mine a similar seam of retro-indie fantastic as The Long Blondes – part DIY art pop, part Blondie sang-froid. I Hate Rock N Roll is a twee-anthem; a jangle-driven, glam-ish invective against rockstar machismo and strutting poseurs.

And mention must be made of the indie-pop makeover given to Chris Isaac’s mid-90s smoulder-fest Wicked Game, here reinvented as the anguished wail of an infatuated first-year left drunk and rejected at the Student Union bar.

Simply poptastic.

Album review: Bat For Lashes

2009-08-04T13:34:00.001Z

Bat for Lashes
Fur and Gold

Label: Echo
Website: www.batforlashes.co.uk
Myspace: www.myspace.com/batforlashes

Release Date: 11th September 2006
Rating: 4 out of 5

At the risk of completely tainting this review by beginning with a lazy comparison, I really feel we ought to get this out of the way - the first thing you think when you hear the Bats For Lashes album is, for better or worse, “Kate Bush”.

In fact, Bat For Lashes’ Natasha Khan is the latest in the lineage of female singer/songwriters for whom themes of the pastoral and the mystical provide inspiration and obsession; a lineage that includes Bush, Stevie Nicks and Björk, to name but a few.

Inspired by a dream, opening track Horse & I is a bonkers mystical sleepwalk peppered with spooky wood-nymph strings, Civil War drums and strident, plaintive vocals. It’s like what Björk would be like if she were English - but with less bleeps, more harpsichord. One can only guess at just how insanely terrifying Natasha Khan’s dreams are.

The general feeling of unease and disorientation continues with track Trophy – possibly the most Björk-esque - coming on a bit like Human Behaviour but infinitely more terrifying. Tahiti is driven along by a lilting piano refrain that carries Khan’s voice along in a haunting Siren song, luring you to deserted beaches and secluded lagoons.

What’s A Girl To Do raises the ghost of 60s girl bands, specifically The Ronettes' Be My Baby. The spoken-word intro and the deep timpani drums soon phase into layered vocals and subtle electronica. Sad Eyes is a heart-rending ballad in the traditional mould, but teeters on the edge of trite; evidence that it is in the arena of the strange and the mystical that Khan truly excels. The excellent Bat’s Mouth, for example, is a delicate, beautiful ballad; less obvious than Sad Eyes and all the better for it.

It would be easy to write this album off as simply quirky or “eclectic”, but it would do Bat For Lashes a grave disservice. It’s not an instantly accessibe album, and its wilful eeriness will definitely scare away the dinner party crowd.

Given a chance, its themes of dreaming and awakening, of fantasy and myth, weave a complex and interesting tapestry, struck through with rich threads of musicianship and imagination.

Listening to this album is like being lost in a Romanian forest at night - full moon and wolf-howl, Gypsy intrigue and mischief in the woods. Leaving you halfway between being petrified and thrilled, Fur and Gold insinuates itself into your subconscious and makes you feel that you’ve experienced something deeply personal and affecting.

And how often does that really happen?

Album review: Super Furry Animals

2009-08-04T13:29:00.002Z

Super Furry Animals
Hey Venus!

Label: Rough Trade
Release date: 27 August 2007

Website: http://www.superfurry.com/

Rating: 4 out of 5

Super Furry animals are no slouches. Hey Venus! is their eighth studio album and, in the intervening two years since their last release, there have been various solo records and other creative projects.

But cast aside any fears that they’re spreading themselves thin – they’ve got ideas left to spare. Hey Venus! is a concept album, following the adventures of a girl (Venus, natch) who leaves her hometown, travels to the city and tries to make a life there.

Run-Away is a typically idiosyncratic take on 60s teen songs like Leader of The Pack and, most obviously, Del Shannon’s Runaway. Despite the tragedy of its subject matter, this song is strangely redemptive: “Those who cry and runaway / Live to cry another day”. Gruff Rhys’ crooning is almost heart-throbingly bobby-soxer in the way it curls and pirouettes around the lyrics.

The blissful summer daydream that is lead single Show Your Hand is just about one of the most perfect summer songs ever, redolent of lovers holding hands in sunshine and skipping through dandelion fields.

And, of course, SFA are nothing if not insanely eclectic. The Gift That Keeps Giving is shimmering Philly Soul, with buttery multilayered harmonies. drenched in warm waves of melody.

Neo Consumer is a frenetic, mind-buzzing whirlwind, pounding drums and spinning whirligigs of sounds. Lyrics about insecurity and tension and underlying emptiness play against the pure rump-shaking dance-ability of it/ It has a real tinge of glam rock, of Roxy Music, about it - as does Battersea Odyssey.

Carbon Dating shifts seamlessly from its bouzouki carousel opening to pulsating cosmic music box whilst Into The Night is a psychedelic space age funk odyssey that wouldn’t be out of place in something like Hair or Jesus Christ Superstar. Just the right side of Santana, it’s infectious bongo rhythms and delicate tabla are played against a backdrop of throbbing guitar, shot through with uplifting stellar imagery.

Frenetic and terrifying, Baby Ate My Eightball is a whacked-out chemical nightmare warning of the danger of leaving the pharmaceuticals where Junior can reach them. It’s bloody brilliant.

The record closes on a thoughtful, mournful note. Let The Wolves Howl At The Moon is a whiskey-soaked country song, a lament to lost innocence; “ Bring down the chandeliers/bring down these darkest years… / Let the wolves howl at the moon / For the end, it comes so soon”.

Proof enough then, that Super Furry Animals have more than enough substance with which to enrich their unbridled inventiveness

Album review: King Creosote

2009-08-04T13:27:00.002Z

King Creosote
Bombshell

Label: Names / 679 Recordings
Release date: 10th September 2007

Website: http://www.kingcreosote.com/

Rating: 3.5 out of 5

Banish all thoughts of The Proclaimers, all ye who enter here. Fife-based singer and Fence Collective kingpin Kenny Anderson, aka King Creosote, is here to make Scottish folk music popular again.

Bombshell is being positioned as a sort of crossover album and it’s surprisingly easy to see this record doing well in a mainstream kind of way. The album is a well-balanced combination of haunting balladry and jaunty modern pop-folk, furthering the blueprint of Scot fringe-folk and confirming that, in terms of raw talent, Scotland is truly where it’s at.

Leslie, Now Drop Your Bombshell and Church As Witness are works of heart-rending simplicity and all possess and innate Scottishness; an emotional desolation that echoes the stark beauty of the landscape.

But it’s not all stoic Highland miserablism. Home In A Sentence is a soaring showcase of Anderson’s vocal talents while You’ve No Clue Do You, a stinging invective set to rollicking drums and guitars, features brilliant chiming harmonies and overlaid vocals.

Standout tracks There’s None Of That and Nooks are melodic and catchy in a kitchen-sink drama/ Beautiful South kind of way and Admiral is surely one of the most gorgeous songs of year.

Album review: Rilo Kiley

2007-08-03T13:09:00.000Z

Rilo Kiley
Under The Blacklight

Label: Warner Bros. Records
Release date: 20th August 2007

http://www.rilokiley.com/

Rating: 4 out of 5

Under The Blacklight sees US alterna-darlings Rilo Kiley making their major label debut. Indie no more, their fourth album sees Rilo Kiley all grown up and ready to take centre stage.

Breakin' Up is a lost disco classic, complete with soaring strings and ooh-ing backing singers. The title track is a sure-fire hit, the kind of crossover track that is reminiscent of The Sundays. With its melodic similarities to Fleetwood Mac's Dreams, the excellent Dreamworld must surely have been purposely named. Dejalo channels Gloria Estefan and Miami Sound Machine, giving the album necessary spice and zest. The country swagger of 15 sees Lewis in full Bonnie Raitt effect - brash, melodic and undeniably swinging – while Give A Little Love is the kind of ace rock pop songs that people like Sophie B Hawkins were doing in the 80s – they just don’t make enough songs like anymore, dammit.

With its classic rock stylings and country leanings, Under The Blacklight brings to mind Midlake's The Trials Of Van Occupanther and shows the same crossover potential. From the offset, Jenny Watson's voice envelops you like vintage velvet, all soft South Western tones and languorous vowels. Hers is certainly one of the best contemporary voices around, female or otherwise, and she carries Rilo Kiley upon shoulders more than strong enough to carry the weight.

- First published in the August issue of NARC. magazine

Album review: Interpol

2007-07-12T13:41:00.000Z

Interpol
Our Love To Admire
Label: Parlophone
Release date: 9th July 2007

www.interpolnyc.com

Rating: 5 out of 5

If you’ve spent the last two and a half years waiting with baited breath for the third album from NYCs finest, listening to Our Love To Admire will come as something of a hallelujah moment for you, the heavens parting and jubilant seraphim descending from the clouds, manna raining down from paradise. Seriously, folks - it’s just that good.

The album opens with Pioneer To The Falls, its eerie, stalking soundscape shot through with Slavic motifs. It’s all angles and corners, like some German Expressionist film – Dr Caligari’s somnambulist crawling the jagged streets or Nosferatu curling round chimneystacks. At first it seems odd to open the album with what seems like a slow-burner but as the song progresses, you realise what a perfect choice it is; chilly, dramatic, elegant and the perfect introduction to the album.

What Interpol do best are bitter, poisonous songs of longing, possessive desire and frustration; happily, this album has them in spades. No I in Threesome and The Scale are lilting staggers through the charred ruins of decimated relationships. Wrecking Ball continues the theme and shows that the band are not all cruel façade and Teutonic posturing. It’s the kind of song you listen to in the gin-sodden early hours of the morning after a wretched break-up. Elegiac, it should make you sadder but has instead a kind of restorative effect, its shards of glacial sound piercing through like dawn light spilling through curtains.

All Fired Up sees the band mixing strident lyrics - "I got this soul/It's all fired up" - with a drumbeat that weaves in and around the guitars like a prize-fighter, daring you to drop your guard and take a shot. Paul Banks sings "I dream of you draped in wires and leaning on the brakes/As I leave you with restless liars and dealers on the take" and the tableau is complete; this noir world, with its sinister thematic drive is Interpol. It is to their eternal credit that they manage to convey a sense of conviction and authenticity where so many have tried and failed. In Mammoth, the refrain "Spare me the suspense" is the apogee of the disdainful, seen-it-all ennui that marks much of modern life.

Who Do You Think is similar to the big hits from Antics – C'mere and Slow Hands - where the whip crack of the drums spurs on the rumbling bass and firecracker guitars, Banks' lyrical phrasing simply unbeatable. A shimmering example of modern rock music at its sublime best.

Amazing too is Pace Is The Trick, a track so gloriously confident and poised that it’s easy to see Interpol up there in the leagues of world-beating stadium filling bands like U2. The difference is that through the course of their career to date, Interpol appear to have remained true to themselves, refining and honing their sound to perfection and never straying into faddishness or parody.

In the savage pound of their drums and the brownstone elegance of their melodies, Interpol are NYC through and through. In current single The Heinrich Maneuvre, Banks sings "How are things on the West Coast?"; it’s clear that his lover couldn’t be further away. The "West Coast" is California – silicone, sunshine and The American Dream. Interpol, pale and interesting, prefer to skulk in city shadows, stoking dark dystopian fantasies and fondling their sordid obsessions.

I just wish I could stay there with them.

Album review: Immaculate Machines

2007-07-12T13:38:00.000Z

Immaculate Machine
Fables
Label: Mint Records
Release date: July 9th 2007

Website: www.immaculatemachine.com

Rating: 4 out of 5

In recent years, Canada has proved to be a fertile spawning ground for quality alternative music: Arcade Fire, Broken Social Scene and The New Pornographers to name but a few. Add to this hallowed pantheon, Immaculate Machine. Formed in 2002, Immaculate Machine are three indie pop kids blessed with an ear for melody and a penchant for catchy hooks.

The album opens with Jarhand, a frenetic indie pop confection of joyous jangly guitars and the catchiest refrain you’ll hear this year; it's just summer in a bottle. Oh, and it also features special guest backing singers in the form of Alex 'Franz' Kapranos and The Cribs.

Dear Confessor's insistent drumbeats and repetitive refrain that "maps will show us where we’re going/ all they are is just the boring facts" will have you pogo-ing around with a great big smile on your face. Old Flame is The Long Blondes meets The Research meets Human League. At times overwrought, but bordering on the edge of electro-pop genius, it rises to a dramatic crescendo, bursting into a flaming Muse-esque tornado of guitars.

But it's not all fodder for the indie disco dancefloor; Roman Statues is an elegant and delicate concoction. Here, as on many of the other tracks, Brooke Gallupe, Kathryn Calder and Luke Lozlowski share vocal duties to great effect. The haunting Northeastern Wind is desolate and ravaging – four minutes and thirty-one seconds of raw sadness and naked longing. Listening to Blinding Light is literally like bathing in warm floods of white light – soothing and clean, like something holy.

Fables is the band’s third album, but is the first that they haven’t released independently. It's an intricate music box of an album, with songs that you'll instantly love and songs that will worm their way into your heart over time. Take a chance; Immaculate Machine are worth it.

Album review: The Maccabees

2007-06-28T13:07:00.000Z

The Maccabees
Colour It In
Release date: May 7th 2007
Label: Fiction Records
Website: http://www.themaccabees.co.uk/

Rating: 4 out of 5

Let's not beat around the bush – this is essentially noughties new-wave indie. You've heard a lot of stuff like it, but that's no reason to write The Maccabees off. Singer Orlando Weeks' quirky vocal delivery may take some getting used to – it’s a bit Dexy's Midnight Runners – but persevere and you’ll soon uncover a voice that is robust, tender and richly emotive.

About Your Dress and Precious Time are great songs – catchy, inventive and with bags of energy and flair. O.A.V.I.P. is quite Smiths-y, with an addictive backbeat and a great vocal performance from Weeks. Lego is high-octane emotion, urging you on and daring you not to love it.

First Love is a pure rush of endorphins, perfectly capturing the delightful mania and frenzy of unfettered lust/love. Latchmere is a delight - a quintessential British pop song, harking back to days spent at the leisure pool, larking about and generally getting up to no good. It's the tinge of existential sadness that elevates the song above the humdrum: "Came out of the changing room and absolutely fuck all had changed/ So I’ll stay in your lanes". The album closes with the skiffle-shrug of Toothpaste Kisses, a whimsical and lovely song that sets the heart a-flutter.

Showing more than enough promise to be getting on with, The Maccabees have the charm and the talent to win over even the hardest indie heart.

Album review: Editors

2007-06-28T12:50:00.000Z

Editors
An End Has A Start

Label: Kitchenware Records
Release date: 26th June 2007
Website: http://www.editorsofficial.com/

Rating: 3.5 out of 5

Following the resounding success of The Back Room, Editors return with their sophomore album An End Has A Start. Clearly out to consolidate their success and make a statement, album-opener and lead single Smokers Outside The Hospital Door sets the stage with thunderous and ominous-sounding drums, a powerful and commanding statement of intent. The sound is good, but the sentiment a touch banal: "The saddest thing that I've ever seen was smokers outside the hospital door".

The title track, An End Has A Start, is exhilarating and triumphant. Singer Tom Smith’s voice has developed a steeliness that gives his deep, melancholic voice a certain maturity. "You came on your own – That’s how you'll leave," he sings; fatalistic and fantastic in equal measures. The best songs walk this tightrope of existential angst and the giddy euphoria, a dichotomy of sound that somehow creates something that is more than its constituents.

Bones is the kind of (get ready for it) "up-tempo neo-Goth New New Wave" rock for which Editors are most feted. Keening guitar and drums that sound like cardiac arrhythmia, all set against the articulate vocalisation of heartbreak and pain.

When Anger Shows is just plain boring: "I just need you to tell me it's ok". It’s just the kind of thing they play on US teen dramas to accompany scenes of relationship breakdown – too trite, too unoriginal. Push Your Head Towards The Air is Editors' "Fix You" or "Chasing Cars" – a cinemascope anti-ballad of epic proportions and sonic soundscapes. But, unlike the Coldplay and Snow Patrol tracks, PYHTTA is actually good, wringing out desolation and sadness with sincerity and a refreshing lack of artifice.

So, is it a great record? Undoubtedly, Editors are a talented bunch but it’s their curse that they are doomed to be forever mentioned in the same breath as the likes of Keane, Snow Patrol and Coldplay. Editors, you can tell, long to be up there with Joy Division, Echo and The Bunnymen, The Smiths and Interpol. When placed in this illustrious company they fail to live up to their promise, all too often plumping for safe middle ground and the comfort of neutrality.

Despite the fact that their intrinsic darkness and erudition gives them an allure that other bands lack, Editors fail to truly capitalise upon the very traits that set them apart from their peers. Their daring and inventiveness does occasionally shine through, particularly on the title track and songs like Escape The Nest and The Racing Rats. Confident, venomous and razor-sharp, they prove that Editors really only hit their stride when dabbling in the dark and playing in the shadows.
Editors are a band that got too big, too quickly; they should have been left to struggle on the sidelines for a bit. Let bitterness and rancour curdle their spirits a little, I say. All that viciousness and bile may be bad for the heart but dammit, it makes for great songwriting.

Video: Fionn Regan - 'Be Good Or Be Gone"

2007-05-28T20:28:00.000Z

One cold and snowy night last February, I found myself in the auditorium of The Store, a small, bohemian cafe-cum-arts venue in Dipton, County Durham. Far from a 'normal' music venue, The Store hosts intimate gatherings where lesser known folkies and comedians tread the boards for a select group, comprising mainly locals and a smattering of out-of-towners. Sitting in a chair in the darkened hall, clutching a bottle of red wine and staring at the stage, I was transfixed by the musician we had travelled through blizzard and snow drift to see.

Fionn Regan is a true delight, an utterly amazing guitarist and gifted lyricist, evoking the ghost of Nick Drake in the magical dance of his fingers across guitar string. A singer-songwriter a world away from the dreary keening wails of the likes of James Blunt, Regan inhabits a world of rabbits and lost books and darkening woods. If you haven't got it already, I suggest you get yourself over to Amazon and buy his debut long-player, The End of History. I guarantee you won't be disappointed.

To give you a small taster, here's the video for Be Good Or Be Gone, one of the singles off the album.

Album review: The Long Blondes

2007-05-23T15:05:00.000Z

The Long Blondes
Someone To Drive You Home

Label: Rough Trade
Release Date: 6th November 2006
Website: www.thelongblondes.co.uk

5 out of 5

After a year of being steadily hyped as Britain’s Best Unsigned Band™, someone’s gone and given Sheffield’s The Long Blondes a deal. And that someone? Only Rough Trade – the label that brought us The Smiths, The Libertines and The Strokes. Rare company indeed.

So, the stakes are high for The Long Blondes. They have the look, the archly alluring lead singer and they certainly talk the retro talk, all Oxfam chic and Friday nights spent drinking Babycham at the Roxy. But are they just Pulp 2.0 or something a bit more?

'Lust In The Movies' opens with the screech of feedback and pounding tribal drums – no fey indie fops here! (Non) Blonde-in-Chief Kate Jackson wades in with strident, strong vocals – much improved over months spent touring and recording – sounding very reminiscent of Patti Smith and Elastica’s Justine Frischman. With an infectious BIS-like chorus of "Edie Sedgewick, Anna Karenina, Arlene Dahl / I just want to be a sweetheart", this is a tragic tale of being an outsider, of viewing a world of bright lights and sophistication and of being utterly removed from that world you so desire to join. When Jackson sings, "So never try to tell me it's a pleasure being alone / All I have here with me are the records and the books that I own", bedsit dreamers the world over sigh in tortured agreement.

'Once And Never Again' is a piece of pure pop genius, proving that the band has a real knack for writing catchy, hook-laden pop. This is a kitchen sink drama worthy of Jarvis himself, with a deliciously addictive guitar hook that drags you onto the dance floor and makes you bop like a bobbysoxer. "19/You’re only 19 for God’s sake/You don’t need a boyfriend": one of the best singles I’ve heard for years.

The rest of the album yields gem after gem. 'Only Lovers Left Alive' is a disco frenzy, recalling the darker side of Pulp while 'In The Company Of Women' and 'Giddy Stratospheres' are rhythmical guitar-based dance music in top form, reminiscent of Blondie at their peak.

The Long Blondes display their art school credentials on 'Madame Ray', with a resoundingly funky drumbeat and pulsating synth, laid over lyrics that reference 20th Century Dadaist photography. 'Swallow Tattoo' and 'Weekend Without Makeup' are both infinitely quotable modern love songs, displaying a witty erudition that blows The Arctic Monkeys out of the water: "You've left me fashioning a double bed and acting like some kind of fifties housewife".

You tell him, sister!

Album review: Husky Rescue

2007-05-23T14:55:00.000Z

Husky Rescue
Ghost Is Not Real

Record Label: Catskills Records
Website: www.husky-rescue.com

Released: 29th January 2007

5 out of 5

Put aside your preconceptions about twee Scandinavian indie pop and listen up. Finland’s Husky Rescue make the kind of epic emotional indie normally associated with bands such as Coldplay and Snow Patrol.

No! Wait! Come back! I didn’t mean to scare you off!

Unfashionable as it may be to admit, grandiose, ambitious indie does have a place in the pantheon of modern music, particularly in the hands of bands like Husky Rescue. This kind of richly textured, widescreen rock music is usually fuelled, and often ruined, by testosterone and overwrought ego – vis Bono, Springsteen et al. In Husky Rescue, this is tempered by the presence of lead singer Reeta-Leena Korhola, a woman possessed of a voice of such singular beauty, it’s like living fire trapped in ice.

A sort-of collective of the Herman Düne/Broken Social Scene variety, Husky Rescue’s main-man Marko Nyberg put the band together to create lush, driving cinematic soundscapes and intimate emotional melodies. And, as songs like 'Nightless Night' and 'My Home Ghost attest, Husky Rescue are as adept in the former as they are in the latter. This is the sound of a band at the top of their game. They’re so damn brilliant, it would be churlish of us not to just lie down and submit, letting their glistening sonic waves wash over, baptising us in their beauty.

It’d be remiss of me not to mention Nina Persson of the Cardigans, and Victoria Bergsman [formerly] of The Concretes, both of whom are valid musical touchstones when describing Korhona’s vocal style. However, the similarities probably owe much to their shared Scandinavian heritage than anything else. It is Korhona who, along with their sheer musical brilliance, elevates Husky Rescue to such sublime heights and positions them as one of the bright stars in the ascendant Scandi-indie galaxy.

- first published in NARC. magazine

Video: Maximo Park "Our Velocity"

2007-03-06T10:26:00.000Z

The 'Park are back with a new single and it's a humdinger. What's up with Paul Smith's hat though? The man's obsessed with dubious headwear.

No Direction, Period.

2007-02-22T15:48:00.000Z

Album review: Serena Maneesh

2006-07-27T13:30:00.000Z

Serena-Maneesh
Serena-Maneesh

Label: Playlouderrecordings
Release date: 26/06/06

Rating: 4.5 out of 5

So, my monthly Review CD package arrived in the post and I, eager to erase the memory of last month’s Every Move A Picture-debacle, ripped open the JiffyBag, praying for something good, something exciting, some rare proof that not everyone was mired in the morass of 80s nostalgia (how long before there’s a Phil Collins revival, people? HOW LONG???).

Pulling out the lone CD within, I found myself confronted with a black and purple cover, with the esoteric inscription Serena-Maneesh. In all honesty, it looks like a Goth album. My heart sank.

However, as your trusted NARC reviewer, I have pledged to keep an open mind and review albums honestly, even if they look like dire Industric Gothic revivalists. I dutifully whacked the CD into the player, pressed “play”, and steeled myself for a brutal aural assault.

But… but…

It’s not Goth! It’s good! Better than that, it’s GREAT!

Serena-Maneesh, I discover through Internet sleuthing, are a sprawling mass of musicians, predominantly Norwegian, who “emerge from the womb as something wholly new and all of their own” (courtesy of their not-at-all gushing press release).

Intro track Drain Cosmetics is all psychedelic drums and trippy guitars, with half-whispered lyrics, a sublime intertwining of male and female vocals. Somewhere between Velvet Underground, Royal Trux and Ride – the link they all share is a sort of blissed-out, opiate-induced lushness.

Selina’s Melodie Fountain combines Pixies-style guitars with the dreamy vocals, creating a thrilling soundscape, all whooshing guitars and thumping, racing rhythm section.

Candlelighted is beautiful and delicate, reminiscent of Gish-era Smashing Pumpkins, ethereal, beguiling and compelling. A side note for you pop-pockers out there: Sufjan Stevens guests on this track - playing the flute!

Don’t Come Down Here also echoes the dreamier side of Corgan and Co – it’s the perfect song for summer evenings, for lying in warm grass, kissing lovers.

But it’s not all dimmed candlelight, incense and hazy sunsets. Beehiver II kicks in like a rebel motorcycle gang, hepped up on Blue Bombers and careening around winding mountain roads at night, moonlight glinting off oiled leathers.

The insistent drumbeat reminds me of the Velvet Underground’s Heroin – in fact, this track is like the archetypal drug-rush: euphoria, chaos and incipient threat, all in the same, freak-out instant.

My only criticism is for the naff 6th-Form-Angst style of their titles. I mean, really: Her Name Is Suicide, Your Blood In Mine, Drain Cosmetics? All hopelessly crap song names, betraying the fact that, by and large, pretty darn good songs lurk behind.

In a world still obsessed with Strokesian cool and New Wave angularity, Serena-Manesh stand out for miles.

Granted, they haven’t reinvented the wheel or discovered a fantastically new and groovy time signature, but they’ve mined an entirely different vein for their influences and have produced more than an album – they’ve crafted a beautiful sonic landscape and invited us in.

Album Review: The Raconteurs, Broken Boy Soldiers

2006-05-03T12:11:00.000Z

Here's my album review, printed in May's NARC. magazine:

The Raconteurs
Broken Boy Soldiers
Released 15th May
Label : XL Recordings
5 out of 5

From the opening drumbeat of Steady As She Goes to the slow burn-out of Blue Veins, The Raconteurs album is a rollicking rock ‘n’ roll delight. The indie-tastic combo of Jack White, Brendan Benson and The Greenhornes’ Jack Lawrence and Patrick Keeler, have really hit the paydirt here.

Album opener Steady As She Goes is a modern rock ‘n’ roll classic, with an insanely catchy hook, irresistible bassline, and whispers of the ghost of Louie Louie. Hands is another triumphant track, with scrolling guitars and a solid rhythm section.

Brandan Benson brings a real pop sensibility to this track, tempering Jack White’s impressive guitar-work with a really Beatles-esque melody. The same Beatles sound comes up in the slightly-psychedelic sounding Intimate Secretary (I also reckon it’s also got a smidge of Small Faces in it, but that might just be me).

Great songs aside (and how often can you say that?), the real stars here are the voices. Jack White and Brendan Benson make a fantastic team, their singing styles totally compliment each other. Benson is an underrated gem, with a gorgeous satiny voice that slides over White’s like honey. For proof, look no further than Together, a beautiful paean to love found and love lost, sure to soundtrack a million hipster heartbreaks.

Back in March, The Raconteurs played a sold-out gig at Northumbria University and were in scorchingly fine form. In fact, Jack White looked he was having a whale of a time, in sharp contrast with the aloof, surly figure who played to thousands at Glastonbury in 2005.

When White cries "I’m done ripping myself off" in the album’s title track, you can’t help but suspect that he’s sounding a death-knell for the White Stripes; even more Stripes-ey tracks like Level are transformed by the presence of a full band.

The question is, having voluntarily freed himself of minimalism of the 'Stripes, will Jack White want to return to those restricted aesthetics? Do we want him to? Spare a thought for poor Meg White who, upon hearing this fantastic album, must surely be keeping one eye on the "Drummers Wanted" column.

Live Review: Soledad Brothers, The Cluny, 24/02/06

2006-04-04T14:39:00.000Z

It’s 10pm on February 24th 2006 and in a roadhouse somewhere in the hinterlands of North America, a roomful of rootin’ tootin good ole boys are playing Bingo and drinking coffee. The refrigerators are still full of ice cold Bud, and the bottles of Jack Daniel’s remain corked on the shelves, glinting sadly in the neon light of a Coors sign. Seems the house band packed up months ago, headed for more, erm, Northern climes…

Meanwhile, in a pub in Newcastle, things are decidedly different. The joint’s well and truly jumping, packed to the proverbial rafters with people. There’s drinkin’ and smokin’ and dancin’ – people are bopping and jiving as if possessed by the very spirit of Rock n Roll itself. There’s hootin’ and hollerin’ – Lord have mercy, there’s even a little bit of huggin’ and kissin’ going on!

On the small, cramped stage, the band is banging out good-time tunes as if their lives depended on it. Drenched in sweat, grinning from ear to ear, Soledad Brothers own this crowd – and they know it!

Dismissing them as just another band in the Detroit Blues contingent does them a disservice. They’re a million miles away from The Von Bondies’ posing or the whiff of art school-rock that often taints Ver Stripes. There’s no pretension here; this is music played for the sheer fun of it.

Soledad Brothers are a tight outfit, impressively dapper in that particularly American Retro way. They make one hell of a racket, fusing together blues, Rock n’ Roll and soul to produce a euphoric mix.

Favourites like Cage That Tiger and Gimme Back My Wig inspire a crowd sing-a-long while recent tracks like Good Feeling also get a great reception. Ben Swank pounds the hell out of his drums and guitarist/vocalist Johnny Walker’s shirt gets progressively wetter throughout the night until it’s positively sweat-sodden. And, just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, Oliver Henry whips out a huge, gleaming tenor sax and the room just erupts in a frenzy of arms, legs and flying plastic cups!

You’ve gotta admit, there’s something sexy about a sweaty, rugged-looking man with a sax (no horn jokes, please).

Soledad Brothers gave us an all-too fleeting glimpse into America’s blues-rock heartland and, if only for one night, we were right there, sippin’ on bourbon in our very own honky tonk!

Farewell Lime Street, hello Highway 61!

http://www.soledadbrothers.com

Gnarls Barkley

2006-03-30T08:12:00.000Z

Gnarls Barkley's insanely catchy Crazy is set to be a UK No. 1 - before the single is even out in the shops. Pop pundits predict that download-only sales are enough to send this track, featured on a BBC ad for Zane Lowe's radio show, straight to the top o' the Hit Parade.

Gnarls Barkley are producer and Gorillaz-collaborator Danger Mouse, and rapper Cee-Lo Green (of Goodie Mob fame).

Crazy is a funky slice of dancefloor heaven, with soulful vocals and a drum beat you can't help but tap your toes to. It's one of those massive crossover hits that will appeal to Hip Hop heads, indie hipsters and Juan Publico as well.

After The Grey Album, the Gorillaz stuff and recent collaboration with MF Doom, it seems like Danger Mouse can do no wrong.

Plus, they're putting out insane pictures like this one (see left) as part of the press campaign. Undisputably brilliant.

Album St.Elsewhere is released in the UK on April 24th.

The Raconteurs - Northumbria Uni

2006-03-30T08:08:00.000Z

Jack White, Brendan Benson and their troupe of blues-rockin' troubadors tumbled into town. Full album review in Narc. Issue 2, out April 27th 2006.

Golden Virgins to headline NARC. launch party

2006-03-23T13:04:00.000Z

NARC. magazine are holding a big launch party at The Cluny on Thursday, 30th March.

As well as picking up a copy of what we hope will soon be the North East's most popular music rag, you'll be able to sample the delights of some great bands, including local (well, Sunderland) heroes, Golden Virgins.

Plus, you get to quaff fancy Continental lager and shake your tailfeathers with a load of fancypants young hipsters.

And on a schoolnight, too!

Tickets cost £4 a pop and are available from RPM, The Cluny and Hot Rat Records.