This album costs zero dollars. Released via gorillaz.com on Christmas Day 2010,The Fall could be the biggest free album release this side of Prince taping his discs to British newspapers in 2007 – but even that cost a pound or two. Sure, Radiohead released In Rainbows that year, but the element of guilt (“pay what you think it’s worth”) translated into at least a couple of million for the band, and that was pre-physical release.
Gorillaz aren’t interested in that. For the cost of an email address, The Fall is yours. This also puts music critics in an interesting position. Arguably, a key value of music critics to their reading audience, is our willingness to test the artistic waters, musically speaking. To suggest, in part, whether an album is worth buying (or – these days – “downloading”). When music is free, that barrier to entry is destroyed. Here, listeners have nothing to lose besides time. The music critic is effectively defanged. So what you should do right now, before reading any further, is visit thewebsite, plug in an email address, and download your own copy. (Interestingly, the disclaimer at the bottom states that the album may not be “sold, transferred, altered or copied (including burning and uploading to the internet) without the express prior written approval of EMI Records Ltd”. Good luck with that.)
This isn’t a traditional Gorillaz album like Plastic Beach or Demon Days. It was written and recorded by head Gorilla Damon Albarn while the band toured North America in late 2010. All of the songs were arranged using an Apple iPad, though the production platform is less compelling than the notion itself.
For the full review, visit The Vine. For more Gorillaz, visit their website. The music video for ‘Phoner To Arizona‘ is embedded below.
New Zealand punks bring the dance-noize to new audience
Owing to their fascination with Loveless-like walls of guitars and the synth-led electro-pop of Passion Pit and MGMT (circa Oracular Spectacular), this N.Z. five-piece have a foot planted firmly in both past and present. Their debut album bristles with nervous energy, like they’re itching to impress. And they do. Central to Passive Me, Aggressive You’s success is the skill with which their two main reference points are balanced: “Frayed” paints a mood of dark, distorted menace, yet it follows the album’s most optimistic jam (“Punching In A Dream”). In “Young Blood”, though, the band has conjured up one of 2010’s best singles. Alisa Xayalith delivers its self-aware opening line (“We’re only young and naïve still”) amid a storm of skittering synths and a hefty bass swoon. It’s a monster track masterfully handled, yet there’s the unshakeable sense that their best is still yet to come. Despite pursuing two disparate musical styles, The Naked and Famous embrace both, and thrive.
Key tracks: “Young Blood”, “Punching In A Dream”, “Frayed”
Kisschasy frontman’s garage rock side-project unveiled at last
Best known as the lead singer and songwriter of pop band Kisschasy, Darren Cordeux has left his bandmates behind – for the time being – in favour of pairing up with his partner Tahlia Shaw under the Fuzz Phantoms moniker. Funded by 50 individual backers via online platform Kickstarter, this debut is a 12-track, 28-minute collection that flits between power pop and garage rock. Shaw is no gun on the kit, but her loose style is nicely juxtaposed by Cordeux’s considerable chops: his occasional flights of six-string fancy (best exemplified in “Met A Youngster”) are tasteful and impressive. Fans of Cordeux’s past work will find much to like here. The singer seems to have found solace in simplicity: stripped back to basics, Fuzz Phantoms sounds like two musicians (and their bassist pal) enjoying themselves. They’re unlikely to set the world alight with this release alone, but for the moment, the pair seem content – and rightfully so.
Key tracks: “No Crime”, “Nowhere”, “Met A Youngster”
From the album Sir Luscious Left Foot: The Son Of Chico Dusty, reviewed in July for The Vine: “Built around a compact backbeat and unique usage of the talkbox, Boi’s chorus hook in ‘Shutterbugg’ – “Now party people in the club, it’s time to cut a rug / And throw your deuce up in the sky just for the shutterbuggs” – is irresistible. It’s one of the best singles of the 2010, regardless of genre.” (Link)
From the album Crystal Castles II, reviewed in May for The Vine: “‘Baptism’ is the best thing they’ve ever written, surpassing Crystal Castles I standout ‘Air Wars’ by a considerable margin. On ‘Baptism’, they do everything right. Sheets of urgent synthesisers give way to a dainty, circular keyboard melody pasted over a pulsating beat, before Alice Glass’s pained vocals are met by the synthesised opening phrase cut into staccato triplets. ‘Baptism’ concocts an air of foreboding unlike anything they’ve summoned before.” (Link)
From the album Total Life Forever, reviewed in May for The Vine: “‘Spanish Sahara’ sits in the album’s centre; in turn, it forms the beating heart of Foals’ revised artistic direction. In stark contrast to their previously-accessible singles, the epic song’s payoff occurs over halfway into its seven-minutes. Singer Yannis Philippakis urges listeners – and himself, perhaps – to “Forget the horror here / Leave it all down, here / It’s future rust, and then it’s future dust”, as the song slowly builds upon a sparse introduction to climax amid an ethereal lead guitar melody, thundering tom rolls and, ultimately, a somber, circular synth pattern. As an artistic statement, ‘Spanish Sahara’ is peerless among indie pop circa 2010. (Link)
From the album Kudos, reviewed in November for Mess+Noise: “It’s a saccharine rave so wide-eyed and beautiful that you wish it to never end. While the rhythm section stays pinned to a groove, the guitarists shear off great chunks of the surrounding landscape with abrasive, Jesus & Mary Chain-like chords. Needling lead phrases punctuate each section, while the singer says “When your icy lakes swallow me” in the chorus over and over (or so I imagine; it’s pretty hard to tell through all the reverb). The result is a song more deserving of that idiotically-overused descriptor “widescreen” than any song that came before it. The best part is that the band is acutely aware of the rare musical alchemy they’ve tapped into, and opt to extend the jam to nearly eight gorgeous minutes.” (Link)
From the album Little Joy, reviewed in November for Rolling Stone: “Album closer ‘A Turreted Berg’ – characterised by a subterranean bass hum, a simple backbeat and screaming guitar squalls – is the single best song they’ve released. ” (Link)
From the album Form, reviewed in August for The Vine: “Closing track ‘Frame’ proves the singular highlight. It might be the most satisfying, most perfect song that Die! Die! Die! have ever released. Its sparse verses shiver in anticipation of the release offered by the towering chorus (“Give up the ghost, you can’t escape / We’re too close; I am here now”). ‘Frame’ is a masterpiece in three-point-five minutes.” (Link)
If you asked me to pick a song released in 2010 that best evokes ‘joy’, this would be my first choice. It remains as exciting in December as when I first heard it in August. You should play it five times in a row, at least.
Gigs:
Metallica – Brisbane Entertainment Centre, Saturday 16 October (review)
“For the first hour, it’s exciting enough just to be in the same room as Metallica. Metal bands don’t come bigger than these four men, and since it’s been six years between visits, there’s electricity in the air. From the moment the lights dim and their introduction music – ‘The Ecstasy Of Gold’, the theme from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly – plays, we’re transported. We forget we’re in a big, shitty shed 20 clicks from the city centre. This show is about spectacle, and nothing’s done by half. It’s something special to witness a band who still sound fresh in a stadium despite having been in the game for nearly 30 years, and having punched in this weight division for more than half of that. This is their norm. By their standards, playing to 13,000-odd fans probably qualifies as an intimate show.
As they rip through the climactic vocal section of ‘One’ with blistering intensity (“Landmine! Has taken my sight! Taken my speech! Taken my hearing!”), I realise what a rare talent they have, to make some these tired-ass songs sound fresh. And then they follow up ‘One’ with ‘Master Of Puppets’, one of the greatest metal songs ever. There’s no-one not grinning, headbanging or fist-pumping. For some artists, reminiscence is a dirty word. Not so for Metallica, who dip deep into their back catalogue tonight, all the way back to their 1983 debut Kill ‘Em All. The house lights are requested for their finale, ‘Seek & Destroy’, during which dozens of Metallica-branded beach balls are dropped from the ceiling and punted around by both band and fans, and by this point, I can’t stop grinning. I’m not alone.”
Massive Attack – Brisbane Riverstage, Tuesday 23 March (review)
“They wield a back catalogue that makes lesser artists tremble, and they’re not afraid to use it. British trip-hop production duo Massive Attack close out their first Australian tour since 2003 with a commanding performance at the Brisbane Riverstage that delivers on all fronts: sonically, visually, and emotionally. Speaking to The Vine (link) on the eve of their Perth show nearly two weeks ago, Grant Marshall – a.k.a. Daddy G, who forms half of the core duo alongside Robert del Naja (3D) – spoke of how he’s learned that “you’ve got to give people something that’s quite memorable”. Check that box. Take a song like ‘Teardrop’. It’s that rare kind of musical composition whose impact is felt across generations, gender and race. Tonight, it’s performed by longtime Massive Attack collaborator Martina Topley-Bird, whose talented, vocal loop-heavy support slot proved a fascinating precursor to the main act. Their most distinguished tune has been reworked into an arrangement comprising little more than a backbeat and her beautiful voice that sings of love, loss and hope. It’s a touching moment for the thousands stood in silence, and as the song climaxes, I decide that it reaches a summit of human expression through music that few others can lay claim to.”
Faith No More – Soundwave Festival @ RNA Showgrounds Brisbane, Saturday 20 February (review)
“Immaculately dressed in pale suits, Faith No More immediately establish rapport with the tens of thousands who crowd the main showground bowl to witness the reunited headliners after their 12 year absence. Opening with a full-band lounge version of ‘Reunited’ by vocal duo Peaches & Herb, it’s made immediately clear that their ‘Second Coming’ tour is no half-baked cash-grab; instead, the band are serious about doing justice to what was left behind in 1998. Serious, that is, while maintaining the playful, casual air for which they became known. (During set closer ‘Just A Man’, Mike Patton hijacks a video camera and – mid-song, without dropping a note – forces the operator to film his cock, which briefly appears on the giant screens that flank the main stages – video of the incident.) Any doubts about their reformation were squashed the moment the suits walked onstage.”
To see the rest of the critics’ choices, visit The Vine.
The approach for Gold Coast duo Bleeding Knees Club is disarmingly simple, and on Virginity, their first release – five tracks, and barely 11 minutes in total – they sound simultaneously loose and confident. It works so well purely because there’s nothing else to get in the way of Alex Wall thrashing away at a shitty old drumkit while singing about his offsider being 20, him being 21, them both being drunk, and about how guitarist Jordan Malane “found my cigarettes” and “took three”. Throw in an incessantly-shaken tambourine and a harmonised vocal melody and you’ve got everything you could possibly want from a simple, dumb, awesome indie-punk tune.
There’s a killer middle-eight in ‘Truth Or Dare’ that sounds like the wheels are about to fall off. This same sense of barely-contained enthusiasm propels Virginity along like Wall and Malane have nothing to lose.
For the full review, visit Mess+Noise, where you can also stream the track ‘Bad Guys’. For more Bleeding Knees Club, visit their Myspace. Live footage of their song ‘Camp Out‘ is embedded below.
A new compilation sticks up the middle finger at the oft-repeated “stop the boats” refrain, writes ANDREW MCMILLEN.
This is more than a collection of songs. It’s a middle-finger to the unending dialogue surrounding the hideously offensive phrase “stop the boats”.
That dog whistle sounded long and loud across the land earlier this year, as politicians and their supporters attempted to shield racist ideals under the guise of protecting national interests in an election year. The Key Of Sea is the compassionate antidote to narrow-minded xenophobia. All proceeds from the sale of the album – which pairs well-known Australian artists with refugee musicians – go to the Asylum Seeker Resource Centre, the Human Rights Arts and Film Festival, and Refugees Survivors and Ex Detainees. Its co-founders encourage listeners to “think deep, dig deep, and enjoy a unique musical journey”. It’s an apt disclaimer.
These 11 narratives are drawn from disparate inspirations. Knowing each song’s genesis only adds to their impact. Urthboy’s collaboration with Group 120, ‘Letters From Jamshed’, has its roots in the MC’s sister trading mail with an asylum seeker named Jamshed, who was being held in the Nairu detention centre. Featuring lyrics taken from Jamshed’s correspondence, the song’s chorus – set among hip-hop beats, a circular nylon-string guitar riff, and Group 120’s choir of sighs – presents the question that lies at the heart of the asylum seeker debate: “Do you mind, if you and I/We share the sky?”. Alongside Blue King Brown and Diafrix’s ‘Streets Are Getting Hot’, it’s the album’s most upbeat track, and among the most memorable.
The cat’s out of the bag! Hints of Christianity were dotted throughout Townsville indie pop collective The Middle East’s past recorded material – their 2008 album The Recordings of The Middle East, and last year’s re-released EP of the same name – but never before has it been so overt. On ‘Jesus Came To My Birthday Party’, keyboardist Bree Tranter takes lead vocals for a tale concerning the Messiah’s birthday visit: “When I was seventeen/I thought it was a dream/It was a long time ago”. (“I haven’t seen him in a while”, she later admits, before spotting him in the eye of strangers while “down in the city” at night.)
A dirty guitar bookends the narrative, and is allowed an extended run midway through, but it sounds a little forced among the earnestly-strummed acoustic guitars and tambourine-assisted percussion.
For the full review, visit Mess+Noise, where you can also stream the track. For more of The Middle East, visit their website. The music video for their song ‘Blood‘ is embedded below.
A simple question: what the hell was wrong with 1994’s The Greatest Hits? Its 20 tracks represented everything that was great about INXS, one of the most popular Australian acts of all time: pomp, excess, bombast, and above all, both musical and songwriting ability. Sure, there was 2002’s The Best Of INXS; was essentially the same product with a reordered tracklist and an tacked on remix. Both of these compilations ticked all the boxes: fans got to hear their favourite songs, band get paid royalties forevermore. Everyone’s happy. Even if the band does see fit to reform down the track, and star in a reality TV show to find a replacement for their long-dead lead singer, at least they’ll never fuck with the classics, right? We could rest easy in the knowledge that although INXS might tour their back catalogue until they die, they’ll never re-record their best work in attempt to capture a young audience. Right?
Wrong. So fucking wrong.
Everything about this album is abhorrent. Even if the songs came close to doing justice to the originals – and to be crystal-clear, they don’t – there’s just no sugarcoating this bald-faced cash-grab. The band have described it as a tributealbum. This is a lie. It is the musical equivalent of pissing on one’s own (or Michael Hutchence’s) grave. A revolving door of guest vocalists results in an assembly-line mentality, thus no performer here is given the chance to connect with the listener. The decision to enlist the smoky vocals of trip-hop star Tricky for ‘Meditate’ is one of few inspired decisions; if only he was given a darker environment in which to work his magic, instead of the shimmering, neon-glow that surrounds his urgent rhymes. When the band pause the song for a few bars to introduce their high-voltage instruments, you can just envisage the cheesy, sunglass-clad grins that were passed around the recording studio.
For the full review, visit The Vine. Please avoid listening to this album at all costs. It was probably the worst thing I voluntarily listened to all year.
Catching Perth quartet Young Revelry on their home turf was a highlight of the recent One Movement For Music festival. Devoid of buzz or pretension, they simply climbed onto the stage, checked their instruments, then lit up the Amplifier Bar with a bottom-heavy slab of hard rock. Watching them, I couldn’t overlook similarities to youthful contemporaries like Sugar Army – whose 2009 debut remains criminally underrated – or, during their heavier moments, Violent Soho. Pleasantly, their debut EP, You And I, proves that the band can deliver both live and on record.
Recorded with Woody Annison (Children Collide, Red Riders, Black Cab) in the Western Australian bush, You And I is a fine starting point, but it’s not going to set the world on fire. This is fine: hard rock is a difficult niche to corner here in Australia, and it seems only a handful of bands can sit atop the heap at any one time. (Dead Letter Circus – with thanks to Universal’s marketing budget – are doing their best to scale the peak in the wake of Cog stepping down. Even Sugar Army are struggling to make a dent in the genre, despite their frequent moments of brilliance.) Wisely, Young Revelry don’t seem to be in a rush.
Full review at Mess+Noise. More Young Revelry on MySpace. The music video for the song ‘You And I‘ is embedded below.
Central to this band’s attraction throughout their 14-year history has been the sense that they’re not entirely of this planet. Ringleader Kevin Barnes and his cohorts exist on an artistic plane draped in sexual decadence beyond the experiences of the everyman. This permeating mood of the vaguely pornographic makes of Montreal’s music appeal on some base level of voyeurism (or, perhaps more accurately, escapism). In that sense, not much has changed with the release of False Priest, their tenth album. Just how Barnes’ constantly-flitting mind – and output – works remains a mystery, and so compelling enough to comfortably spend 53-odd minutes in the company of he and his bandmates.
These thirteen tracks from the Athens, Georgia-based collective skirt myriad genres, all loosely connected to the ever-vague nucleus of indie rock. The band navigate the likes of camp disco (album opener ‘I Feel Ya Strutter’), skewed electronica (‘Godly Intersex’), bass-heavy seductive funk (‘Like A Tourist’), piano-led introspection (‘Casualty Of You’), and even a rare detour into open-chord arena rock bravado (lead single ‘Coquet Coquette’). For the most part, they’re not just coherent, but commanding in their adaptability.
Barnes’ lyrical imagery ranges from weird (“I don’t wanna catch you with another guy’s face under your eyelids”, in ‘Coquet Coquette’) to weirder (“We danced for miscarriages”, in ‘Godly Intersex’). He’s an eloquent songwriter, to the point where occasionally obvious rhymes can be excused (“Whatever your eyes caught, I bought / Still we fought / Like Ike and Tina, but in reverse, ‘cause you’re so…” in ‘Crazy Girl’).
At its heart, Escapades – the debut full-length by Brisbane quartet Hungry Kids Of Hungary – is unashamedly a pop record. ‘Coming Around’ is as brash an album opener as you could get, and whether intentional or not, it immediately sets the tone for whether you’ll find this band palatable or sickening. Boosted by Matt Redlich’s crisp pop production, wherein the vocals and harmonies are pushed high in the mix, the track shimmers with a tangible sense of tension – and not just of the sexual variety, though double entendres abound (“Everything was so hard … for us”, “I don’t want you coming around/ But I’ll think you’ll come”). The song sparkles with instrumental embellishment – a distorted lead guitar here, a shifting piano chord progression there – which doens’t obscure the band’s vocal strengths. Put simply, ‘Coming Around’ sounds massive, and belongs up there with the best “side one, track ones” of the year.
With two songwriters in the mix – singer/keyboardist Kane Mazlin, and singer/guitarist Dean McGrath – things could easily get a little cluttered, yet Hungry Kids sidestep this by configuring a balanced tracklist (seven credits to McGrath, five to Mazlin) and exhibiting an unwillingness to over-complicate things. A barely-there overdub in ‘Closer Apart’ – you hear someone clear their throat, light a cigarette, then exhale – adds a sense of intimacy to a track that’s probably the most wholly demonstrative of their songwriting abilities. The subdued rhythm section soon blossoms into an expansive suite, which benefits greatly from the subtle inclusion of a string section. Mazlin’s ‘You Ain’t Always There’ mines a similar vein; so too McGrath’s ‘Eat Your Heart Out’.
Full review at Mess+Noise. More Hungry Kids Of Hungary on MySpace. The music video for their song ‘Coming Around‘ is embedded below.
Young Revelry – You And I
of Montreal – False Priest
Hungry Kids Of Hungary – Escapades