It's been 9 months since I posted anything; I can only apologise. Quite a bit's happened in that time. I intended this as a music blog, but I can't really justify its existence solely in that capacity. I imagine it will still be that for the main part though. I'm not promising to post regularly, because that would involve me having more time than I actually do, but I will try to write stuff more regularly.
So, in the last 9 months I've done a whole pile of stuff. I got a new job, leaving my first teaching post for pastures new and more challenging; part of this involves me teaching A level English Language, which is brilliant. I always considered myself a student of literature, but I'm finding this considerably more interesting than anything literary I've done since graduating way back in 2004.
The only downside (and in itself, it's quite the opposite) is that my commute has been cut in half; this was my prime music-consumption time, and it's been reduced to a mere 20 minute blast up the motorway. Luckily, I've started going to the gym in an effort to see 50, so that's taken over.
I've moved house too. I live in suburbia and it's nice and quiet. That's kind of boring (not for me, I love it, but it's hardly interesting to read about).
I joined a new band. We're called Cue Tigers and I hope you like us. The stuff on there was done completely in-house (mostly in Will's house, as it happens, and also in The Mill, which is a bit like a house but much worse), and we're proud of it. It's the most fun I've ever had being in a band, and the lack of stress and pressure is both novel and refreshing.
Then, ta-da, I became a dad again. Baby Number Two is called Althea and she's lovely, and snotty. She's asleep next to me on the sofa, propped up so the snot has somewhere to go. Such incredible snot.
I've also listened to a fair amount of new (to me) music; some of the highlights of which are:
The Band
Sufjan Stevens
The Replacements
Titus Andronicus
Jay Reatard
Wu-Tang Clan (specifically GZA and Raekwon)
Toots and the Maytals
Augustus Pablo
Grinderman
So yeah. I guess I'll have more to say next time I sit down with a few beers and run my mouth off about something. I might buy a couple more Sufjan Stevens records and write about him.
20.8.11
21.11.10
Recent likes:
Neil Young - After The Goldrush
Velvet Underground - Peel Slowly and See
The Gaslight Anthem - American Slang
Bruce Springsteen...
Great stuff. Really enjoying these at the moment. I've always regarded Springsteen with an air of suspicion. I don't know. I think it must be something to do with all the punk I bothered my ears with when I was younger - he always seemed too bloated, too mainstream. The realisation that the reason some things are mainstream just because they're awesome is both humbling and liberating.
Anyway, it turns out that pretty much every great rock band of the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries owes a huge debt to The Boss.
It's kind of hard to type while punching the air with one hand.
Velvet Underground - Peel Slowly and See
The Gaslight Anthem - American Slang
Bruce Springsteen...
Great stuff. Really enjoying these at the moment. I've always regarded Springsteen with an air of suspicion. I don't know. I think it must be something to do with all the punk I bothered my ears with when I was younger - he always seemed too bloated, too mainstream. The realisation that the reason some things are mainstream just because they're awesome is both humbling and liberating.
Anyway, it turns out that pretty much every great rock band of the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries owes a huge debt to The Boss.
It's kind of hard to type while punching the air with one hand.
5.8.10
What kind of music do you like?
Someone once said you know you're getting older when you're asked what kind of music you like, and you reply "all kinds".
It's with some embarrassment that I look back on the oldest bits of my CD collection and realise that the most diverse albums are those that weren't on Epitaph records. It had to be punk rock. It had to scream about social injustice. It had to do it all at around Mach 4. I was picky though - I couldn't abide Blink 182, Nerf Herder, Less Than Jake et al. The 'big three' for me were NOFX, Bad Religion and Rancid. I remember making a near 500 mile round trip from Aberystwyth to London to watch Bad Religion. They blew up the PA, turned up the backline and carried on. I thought it was the coolest thing I'd ever seen.
SoCal punk can only take you so far. No self-respecting young punk would ever admit to preferring the new stuff, so I had to dig into the Sex Pistols, The Clash, Stiff Little Fingers and so on. I established a reasonable amount of old British stuff to look cool alongside my new American stuff.
This didn't last. Not long after finishing university, I was exposed to Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, discovered Tom Waits pretty much for myself, acquired my Dad's collection of Dylan vinyl records (pretty much complete from his début until Saved). It went from there - the punk rock occupied the lower shelves, and a myriad of troubled singer-songwriters took priority. I played a lot of gigs myself, and listened to a lot of the bands that the bands we played with sounded like.
It all goes full circle. I'm listening to Peace and Love by The Pogues, and I suppose they have a lot of things that I really love about music rolled together in one band. I got into them because they had punky bits, and now I think they probably write as good a pop song as it's possible to write. Having said that, I was listening to Choking Victim earlier today (now there's a band that normally live on the bottom shelves...), and I think they do too.
It's good, this music thing. The genre I've started to explore most recently is hip hop. It's like listening to music for the first time again, because I'm constantly being surprised by the different styles and subgenres I'm finding. If I ever stop liking new stuff, shoot me.
It's with some embarrassment that I look back on the oldest bits of my CD collection and realise that the most diverse albums are those that weren't on Epitaph records. It had to be punk rock. It had to scream about social injustice. It had to do it all at around Mach 4. I was picky though - I couldn't abide Blink 182, Nerf Herder, Less Than Jake et al. The 'big three' for me were NOFX, Bad Religion and Rancid. I remember making a near 500 mile round trip from Aberystwyth to London to watch Bad Religion. They blew up the PA, turned up the backline and carried on. I thought it was the coolest thing I'd ever seen.
SoCal punk can only take you so far. No self-respecting young punk would ever admit to preferring the new stuff, so I had to dig into the Sex Pistols, The Clash, Stiff Little Fingers and so on. I established a reasonable amount of old British stuff to look cool alongside my new American stuff.
This didn't last. Not long after finishing university, I was exposed to Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, discovered Tom Waits pretty much for myself, acquired my Dad's collection of Dylan vinyl records (pretty much complete from his début until Saved). It went from there - the punk rock occupied the lower shelves, and a myriad of troubled singer-songwriters took priority. I played a lot of gigs myself, and listened to a lot of the bands that the bands we played with sounded like.
It all goes full circle. I'm listening to Peace and Love by The Pogues, and I suppose they have a lot of things that I really love about music rolled together in one band. I got into them because they had punky bits, and now I think they probably write as good a pop song as it's possible to write. Having said that, I was listening to Choking Victim earlier today (now there's a band that normally live on the bottom shelves...), and I think they do too.
It's good, this music thing. The genre I've started to explore most recently is hip hop. It's like listening to music for the first time again, because I'm constantly being surprised by the different styles and subgenres I'm finding. If I ever stop liking new stuff, shoot me.
31.7.10
LakeView - Songs 1-4/Songs 5-7
This was a surprise. I'd previously had the honour of sharing a stage with Steve Whittle (frontman of LakeView) in an incarnation of Heavy Fluid Addicts, and have long been an admirer of his sometimes screeching, sometimes melodious guitarwork. I'd been a big fan of Modus, and really enjoyed the garage punk of his post-HFA band, The Cities (lack of links for these and the former due to Steve being in bands that are effectively unGoogleable) and was expecting this band, combining members of both of these as well as hardcore high-fliers Elias Last Day, to be something loud.
Not that it isn't at times, but this is far, far more subtle than I imagined. Lots of arpeggios, basslines that really lead the song, and very driving drumbeats that lead into very, very tuneful slower sections.
Song 1 is called 'Flags'. I first listened to this when walking from Hi-Q on Blackpool Road to Haslam Park, and now on my sofa with a beer, but what it really wants is to be played when driving on a really good road. I recommend taking the A59 from Preston to Skipton, for example.
Song 2 is called 'Habit'. A much slower affair, and one that references driving around Lane Ends in Preston. This made me smile as I was walking past the Lane Ends pub as I heard this (it takes a while to fit two tyres if you want it doing cheap). Lots of lovely reverb on the guitar, which is almost Pink Floydy at times, and I think I can hear that Echo Park guitar pedal that was a feature of our time in HFA.
I'm going to stop numbering them now. 'Live Wires' is different. It's a funkier track. The bass steals it for me, again. Credit must be given to whoever recorded this - the separation of bottom and top ends is truly brilliant - it makes for a snappy listen, as opposed to a middley mess.
'Right On, Yeah!' is a cool name for a song, and this is the first really noisy one. The melodies are this time backed up by a frankly dirty rhythm guitar. All this stops for yet another fantastic bassline. Make no mistake - this is definitely 'last song' stuff. Would really benefit from being played at neighbour bothering volume.
Songs 5-7 pick up where 4 left off. 'A Day Out' has a nastier, distorted bass riff that underpins a more warped tune than previous. I'm guessing these were recorded at different points - there seems to have been some kind of consensus that the less straightforward stuff is the way to go.
'Trains' has some big drums. Very big drums. However, the main feature of this is that Steve is really finding his vocal feet. The Cities were a very loud band, and it was easy to shout along. Here, singing is the order of the day and there's a far greater sense of coherence and cohesion between music and lyrics.
The last song is 'Breaking Glass'. It's more of a grower than previous songs. It changes several times, and returns to the driving imagery of 'Habit'. Some soaring guitarwork towards the end, and then it stops. Almost abruptly.
So, LakeView. A rock band, certainly, but what sort of rock band? A good one, one that is hard to categorise, and one that's produced seven songs (there may be more, I just hoiked these off bandcamp) that are simultaneously diverse and accessible.
Not that it isn't at times, but this is far, far more subtle than I imagined. Lots of arpeggios, basslines that really lead the song, and very driving drumbeats that lead into very, very tuneful slower sections.
Song 1 is called 'Flags'. I first listened to this when walking from Hi-Q on Blackpool Road to Haslam Park, and now on my sofa with a beer, but what it really wants is to be played when driving on a really good road. I recommend taking the A59 from Preston to Skipton, for example.
Song 2 is called 'Habit'. A much slower affair, and one that references driving around Lane Ends in Preston. This made me smile as I was walking past the Lane Ends pub as I heard this (it takes a while to fit two tyres if you want it doing cheap). Lots of lovely reverb on the guitar, which is almost Pink Floydy at times, and I think I can hear that Echo Park guitar pedal that was a feature of our time in HFA.
I'm going to stop numbering them now. 'Live Wires' is different. It's a funkier track. The bass steals it for me, again. Credit must be given to whoever recorded this - the separation of bottom and top ends is truly brilliant - it makes for a snappy listen, as opposed to a middley mess.
'Right On, Yeah!' is a cool name for a song, and this is the first really noisy one. The melodies are this time backed up by a frankly dirty rhythm guitar. All this stops for yet another fantastic bassline. Make no mistake - this is definitely 'last song' stuff. Would really benefit from being played at neighbour bothering volume.
Songs 5-7 pick up where 4 left off. 'A Day Out' has a nastier, distorted bass riff that underpins a more warped tune than previous. I'm guessing these were recorded at different points - there seems to have been some kind of consensus that the less straightforward stuff is the way to go.
'Trains' has some big drums. Very big drums. However, the main feature of this is that Steve is really finding his vocal feet. The Cities were a very loud band, and it was easy to shout along. Here, singing is the order of the day and there's a far greater sense of coherence and cohesion between music and lyrics.
The last song is 'Breaking Glass'. It's more of a grower than previous songs. It changes several times, and returns to the driving imagery of 'Habit'. Some soaring guitarwork towards the end, and then it stops. Almost abruptly.
So, LakeView. A rock band, certainly, but what sort of rock band? A good one, one that is hard to categorise, and one that's produced seven songs (there may be more, I just hoiked these off bandcamp) that are simultaneously diverse and accessible.
Stephen James Buckley & The Feverdreamers Have Left The Building
OK, first proper post since my re-purposing of this blog.
Stephen James Buckley is one of the men behind Hello Bamboo, which would lead you to believe that he's some kind of barely-functioning sexual sadist that spends his spare time (of which he has lots) inventing new, innovative and despicable methods of pleasuring himself. As it happens, that's the drummer, but I wager Stephen isn't far behind on the sly. Anyway, this is his other band. Here, the in-jokes and knob gags are exchanged for a rather inward-looking sincerity. The humour is there, but it's very self-deprecating. Onwards.
(I should point out that, as I am listening to the e.p. and writing this review, someone on my street is sobbing uncontrollably. I hope that these events aren't connected. It's making me feel rather uncomfortable.)
... Have Left The Building kicks off with 'Behind The Moon'. A synthesized intro leads us towards a voice reminiscent of Benjamin Smoke. It's a sad song, granted, but there's something about the bells and 'ahhhh' backing vocals that are uplifting. Bittersweet.
'Fabulous Club' is a far rockier affair. Stabby rhythms and a wandering, walking bassline, tied together with a tremolo-picked lead guitar accompany a fairly vitriolic assault on the concept of cool. It's a straight-up rock and roll song; something that is nice to hear when many bands are keen to pigeonhole themselves as anything but.
'Cover Of The Rolling Stone' is a song by Dr Hook And The Medicine Show that I haven't heard, so I have to judge this on its own merits, and not as an interpretation of someone else's work. The verse is neotraditional country, in the vein of Hank III or maybe the Drive-By Truckers in their less raucous moments. There's a wonderfully atonal guitar solo, and the ending of the song is chaotic, seemingly aiming to capture a slice of studio life. Maybe. They sound like they're having fun, which is infectious.
'Behind The Moon (Reprise)' actually tops the opening track, in my opinion. Good as the vocals are, taking them away allows us to hear the fairly intricate layering of sounds. I can't quite put my finger on of what it reminds me, but it sounds a bit wintery. Which, in a crappy July, is something to look forward to.
An interesting collection of songs, possibly over-diverse for one short e.p., but is that a bad thing? It's a lot better than every song sounding like it's come from a formulaic toolkit of potential music, that's for sure. Regardless of this possible criticism, a nod has to be given to the actual sound of the record. Stephen has said that this was "[n]ot an exercise in production ProTools", and it's all the better for it. A creaky, juddering collection of songs, best-suited to being listened to while a stranger weeps in the background.
Stephen James Buckley is one of the men behind Hello Bamboo, which would lead you to believe that he's some kind of barely-functioning sexual sadist that spends his spare time (of which he has lots) inventing new, innovative and despicable methods of pleasuring himself. As it happens, that's the drummer, but I wager Stephen isn't far behind on the sly. Anyway, this is his other band. Here, the in-jokes and knob gags are exchanged for a rather inward-looking sincerity. The humour is there, but it's very self-deprecating. Onwards.
(I should point out that, as I am listening to the e.p. and writing this review, someone on my street is sobbing uncontrollably. I hope that these events aren't connected. It's making me feel rather uncomfortable.)
... Have Left The Building kicks off with 'Behind The Moon'. A synthesized intro leads us towards a voice reminiscent of Benjamin Smoke. It's a sad song, granted, but there's something about the bells and 'ahhhh' backing vocals that are uplifting. Bittersweet.
'Fabulous Club' is a far rockier affair. Stabby rhythms and a wandering, walking bassline, tied together with a tremolo-picked lead guitar accompany a fairly vitriolic assault on the concept of cool. It's a straight-up rock and roll song; something that is nice to hear when many bands are keen to pigeonhole themselves as anything but.
'Cover Of The Rolling Stone' is a song by Dr Hook And The Medicine Show that I haven't heard, so I have to judge this on its own merits, and not as an interpretation of someone else's work. The verse is neotraditional country, in the vein of Hank III or maybe the Drive-By Truckers in their less raucous moments. There's a wonderfully atonal guitar solo, and the ending of the song is chaotic, seemingly aiming to capture a slice of studio life. Maybe. They sound like they're having fun, which is infectious.
'Behind The Moon (Reprise)' actually tops the opening track, in my opinion. Good as the vocals are, taking them away allows us to hear the fairly intricate layering of sounds. I can't quite put my finger on of what it reminds me, but it sounds a bit wintery. Which, in a crappy July, is something to look forward to.
An interesting collection of songs, possibly over-diverse for one short e.p., but is that a bad thing? It's a lot better than every song sounding like it's come from a formulaic toolkit of potential music, that's for sure. Regardless of this possible criticism, a nod has to be given to the actual sound of the record. Stephen has said that this was "[n]ot an exercise in production ProTools", and it's all the better for it. A creaky, juddering collection of songs, best-suited to being listened to while a stranger weeps in the background.
30.7.10
A relaunch
I couldn't be bothered starting a new blog, so I decided to remove everything that wasn't me speaking about music, and retitle accordingly.
With a sense of purpose, I might even keep on top of this. Appearing here soon will be a review of some bits of local music I've downloaded from Bandcamp.
See you soon.
With a sense of purpose, I might even keep on top of this. Appearing here soon will be a review of some bits of local music I've downloaded from Bandcamp.
See you soon.
11.4.10
Hello Bamboo - True Bromance
I haven't listened to any local music in far, far too long. So, when my good friend Stephen asked me to listen to his "moustache rock" band's new EP, I obliged. Here's what I think. Click the link, then read what I put.
Go here and listen
OK, track by track real-time review.
'Lumberfusch' - The Bloodhound Gang are stood in the corner, trying to shake their heads disapprovingly at the lyrics, whilst crying on the inside because they've been outrocked and outcrassed.
'Brine Spine' has the best awful guitar/synth solo I've ever heard. The bits that aren't loud sound like a paedophile's mixtape.
'Olive Reed (New Year's Eve)'. If someone made Ian McKaye take loads of drugs before a Fugazi rehearsal, this would be what the music sounded like before the band kicked him out for taking drugs.
'Poop Mouth'. I'm trying not to listen to the lyrics, because the music sounds like the song should be really serious.
'Who's That Man?' My favourite bit is Micky Rourke.
Seriously though, this is actually a really awesome sounding slice of rock pie. The production is excellent, and it made me smile all the way through. Two thumbs fresh.
Go here and listen
OK, track by track real-time review.
'Lumberfusch' - The Bloodhound Gang are stood in the corner, trying to shake their heads disapprovingly at the lyrics, whilst crying on the inside because they've been outrocked and outcrassed.
'Brine Spine' has the best awful guitar/synth solo I've ever heard. The bits that aren't loud sound like a paedophile's mixtape.
'Olive Reed (New Year's Eve)'. If someone made Ian McKaye take loads of drugs before a Fugazi rehearsal, this would be what the music sounded like before the band kicked him out for taking drugs.
'Poop Mouth'. I'm trying not to listen to the lyrics, because the music sounds like the song should be really serious.
'Who's That Man?' My favourite bit is Micky Rourke.
Seriously though, this is actually a really awesome sounding slice of rock pie. The production is excellent, and it made me smile all the way through. Two thumbs fresh.
9.4.10
The Last Band Before The Internet
No excuses. I just haven't done it in a while.
That's not to say I haven't had anything to write about, because that's not true. I don't really go for the whole internet confessional/general dump of personal stuff on here, but I'm v. happy about the fact that Charlene and I got engaged. If you're of that persuasion, we'd like a set of shelves that fit in our cupboard, a winning lottery ticket and a kitten. Thanks.
Back on topic.
I said I'd write about the Lifter Puller reissues. I got hold of them a bit back, and they're really amazing, but I find it hard to say anything about them that I haven't previously said. Fact is that I owned (legally) the Soft Rock compilation and also (less legally) Fiestas + Fiascos and in those, you have just about everything you need. Their self-titled début LP is probably a place to start reviewing (or babbling like a stupid fanboy, you decide) and it's kind of not as good as their later stuff. If nothing else, it's a relief to say that instead of "it's not as good as their earlier stuff". Craig Finn's drawly vocals show little of the bitter rants and lament-filled witticisms that appear later in his lyrics, and the music leans ever so slightly towards far more stereotypical American indie, and not quite far enough towards the beautifully dystopic choppiness of their later works. The notable exception to this is the fantastic 'Star Wars Hips' and the slightly reminiscent of Sonic Youth 'Mission Veijo'. Better was to come. I'm listening to this album right now, and this reads like I'm being unfair - it's a GREAT album, but then so was Nirvana's Bleach, right?
Half Dead and Dynamite is a great name for an album, and for me this is were Lifter Puller really get going. Choppy and more bitter than bittersweet. 'Sherman City' contains my favourite rhyming couplet of all time (see previous post title), and 'Nassau Coliseum' is insidious and nasty and sounds like a hangover. As stated, I prefer this (and all their other releases) to their début and yet I can't think of that much to say about it.
The Entertainment and Arts mini-album came next, and much should be made of Tad Kubler's (later lead guitarist in The Hold Steady) taking over bass duties. Things started to growl at this point. From the 49 second opening blast of 'Plymouth Rock' to the 5-minute closer 'Let's Get Incredible', this is clearly the sound of a band hitting their collective stride. There's also a slower, creepier 'Star Wars Hips', which shows the band's new-found mastery of their sound - they don't have to go "up" to have more impact.
Fiestas + Fiascos. Definitely the end of something. Not only does fictional nightclub The Nice Nice burn down, but so does the Lifter Puller sound, in the best possible way. This completely brilliant record has their lightest, most accessible music, their choppiest, angriest stuff, and the weirdest bits. It also contains some bits of straight-up rock and roll that can't possibly have been a precursor to The Hold Steady, can they? If you only own one Lifter Puller release, please make it this one.
And that was that. There's the rarities compilation Slips Backwards which is also great. But yeah, a band that lived and died before I even heard of them. Someone once told Craig Finn that Lifter Puller was "the last band before the internet", and that's probably why they're probably way more popular now, thanks in no small measure to the continuing successes of The Hold Steady.
Speaking of whom, Heaven is Whenever is out on May 3rd. First time I've been excited about an album since Stay Positive. I'm off to see them in Manchester on June 26th. There is so much joy in what we do.
That's not to say I haven't had anything to write about, because that's not true. I don't really go for the whole internet confessional/general dump of personal stuff on here, but I'm v. happy about the fact that Charlene and I got engaged. If you're of that persuasion, we'd like a set of shelves that fit in our cupboard, a winning lottery ticket and a kitten. Thanks.
Back on topic.
I said I'd write about the Lifter Puller reissues. I got hold of them a bit back, and they're really amazing, but I find it hard to say anything about them that I haven't previously said. Fact is that I owned (legally) the Soft Rock compilation and also (less legally) Fiestas + Fiascos and in those, you have just about everything you need. Their self-titled début LP is probably a place to start reviewing (or babbling like a stupid fanboy, you decide) and it's kind of not as good as their later stuff. If nothing else, it's a relief to say that instead of "it's not as good as their earlier stuff". Craig Finn's drawly vocals show little of the bitter rants and lament-filled witticisms that appear later in his lyrics, and the music leans ever so slightly towards far more stereotypical American indie, and not quite far enough towards the beautifully dystopic choppiness of their later works. The notable exception to this is the fantastic 'Star Wars Hips' and the slightly reminiscent of Sonic Youth 'Mission Veijo'. Better was to come. I'm listening to this album right now, and this reads like I'm being unfair - it's a GREAT album, but then so was Nirvana's Bleach, right?
Half Dead and Dynamite is a great name for an album, and for me this is were Lifter Puller really get going. Choppy and more bitter than bittersweet. 'Sherman City' contains my favourite rhyming couplet of all time (see previous post title), and 'Nassau Coliseum' is insidious and nasty and sounds like a hangover. As stated, I prefer this (and all their other releases) to their début and yet I can't think of that much to say about it.
The Entertainment and Arts mini-album came next, and much should be made of Tad Kubler's (later lead guitarist in The Hold Steady) taking over bass duties. Things started to growl at this point. From the 49 second opening blast of 'Plymouth Rock' to the 5-minute closer 'Let's Get Incredible', this is clearly the sound of a band hitting their collective stride. There's also a slower, creepier 'Star Wars Hips', which shows the band's new-found mastery of their sound - they don't have to go "up" to have more impact.
Fiestas + Fiascos. Definitely the end of something. Not only does fictional nightclub The Nice Nice burn down, but so does the Lifter Puller sound, in the best possible way. This completely brilliant record has their lightest, most accessible music, their choppiest, angriest stuff, and the weirdest bits. It also contains some bits of straight-up rock and roll that can't possibly have been a precursor to The Hold Steady, can they? If you only own one Lifter Puller release, please make it this one.
And that was that. There's the rarities compilation Slips Backwards which is also great. But yeah, a band that lived and died before I even heard of them. Someone once told Craig Finn that Lifter Puller was "the last band before the internet", and that's probably why they're probably way more popular now, thanks in no small measure to the continuing successes of The Hold Steady.
Speaking of whom, Heaven is Whenever is out on May 3rd. First time I've been excited about an album since Stay Positive. I'm off to see them in Manchester on June 26th. There is so much joy in what we do.
18.11.09
Everytime I see an eagle, it's a filthy fucking seagull
Pre-Hold Steady Band Lifter Puller Remembered With Reissue Series, Book
I'm editing this post because I didn't like the title it received after my lazy auto-add to Blogger.
Next month, Lifter Puller are re-releasing their entire discography with some rarities. I think it's only digital, which upsets me slightly, but my ownership of their music consists solely of Soft Rock and I had to download that (legally, I hasten to add).
For those who don't know, Lifter Puller is the band that Craig Finn and Tad Kubler were in before The Hold Steady. The straight-up rock of The Hold Steady is wonderful and accesible, but Lifter Puller's twitching indie nastiness is just addictive. The lyrics are exactly what you expect from Craig, but with a much darker, introspective edge. You sense that while his Hold Steady creations are largely fictional, Lifter Puller is all too real.
Enough gushing. I'll hopefully get hold of it as soon as it's available and post more here.
I'm editing this post because I didn't like the title it received after my lazy auto-add to Blogger.
Next month, Lifter Puller are re-releasing their entire discography with some rarities. I think it's only digital, which upsets me slightly, but my ownership of their music consists solely of Soft Rock and I had to download that (legally, I hasten to add).
For those who don't know, Lifter Puller is the band that Craig Finn and Tad Kubler were in before The Hold Steady. The straight-up rock of The Hold Steady is wonderful and accesible, but Lifter Puller's twitching indie nastiness is just addictive. The lyrics are exactly what you expect from Craig, but with a much darker, introspective edge. You sense that while his Hold Steady creations are largely fictional, Lifter Puller is all too real.
Enough gushing. I'll hopefully get hold of it as soon as it's available and post more here.
2.10.09
17.5.09
Journal For Plague Lovers
Okay. I said I'd say something about the new Manic Street Preachers album when I got hold of it. I was fully expecting to have to post "it's a bit shit". It isn't. It's just kind of boring. Really fucking boring. It has nothing to offer that isn't already covered by about another fifteen albums in my CD collection to which I don't listen.
I was really excited about the Steve Albini production factor. I'm an unashamed fan of his work - Shellac are awesome, and my two favourite albums he's done from behind the desk are F-Minus' Wake Up Screaming and Gogol Bordello's Gypsy Punks: Underdog World Strike. Both fantastic records, although I'll admit that the former is a little bit on the ear-bothering side of things.
It doesn't sound like a Steve Albini record. It sounds like the Manics said, "Hey (boyos), let's make a really gritty record. Let's make a record that sounds like it's full of anger. Let's make a record that sounds like we don't care about production value and we're all about the music (man)." In short, it sounds like a real fuckin' rock and roll record, made by your dad.
So I've pretty much just listened to some Howlin' Wolf instead. Maybe I should just give up on the Manics making a record as awesome as the one they made 15 years ago and stop pretending they have any contemporary relevance left to give.
Ho hum.
I was really excited about the Steve Albini production factor. I'm an unashamed fan of his work - Shellac are awesome, and my two favourite albums he's done from behind the desk are F-Minus' Wake Up Screaming and Gogol Bordello's Gypsy Punks: Underdog World Strike. Both fantastic records, although I'll admit that the former is a little bit on the ear-bothering side of things.
It doesn't sound like a Steve Albini record. It sounds like the Manics said, "Hey (boyos), let's make a really gritty record. Let's make a record that sounds like it's full of anger. Let's make a record that sounds like we don't care about production value and we're all about the music (man)." In short, it sounds like a real fuckin' rock and roll record, made by your dad.
So I've pretty much just listened to some Howlin' Wolf instead. Maybe I should just give up on the Manics making a record as awesome as the one they made 15 years ago and stop pretending they have any contemporary relevance left to give.
Ho hum.
3.5.09
Dylan. (Also some other music).
First of all, an apology is due to Bob Dylan. I went to see him over a week ago, and all he's received is a cursory few lines in my previous post. I know he's disappointed, so here's a proper appraisal.
I think we all know that Dylan's voice is shot to pieces. Recent albums, Modern Times in particular, show it can be barely more than a whisper. Smoking's bad, aye? Anyway, Dylan tours, it's £35 a ticket less than Tom Waits, and my dad's paying. Awesome. Sheffield Arena, here we come.
A note on arena gigs: just bloody don't. Were it not Dylan, I would not have been at such a soulless cavern of a place. The is something completely horrible about watching some idiot in Topman slacks buy fries and a Coca Cola so huge that, were he to take it home with him in his car, he'd need a child booster in which to accommodate it (notwithstanding the fact that the queue to get off the car park was so massive that he'd have pissed said slacks several times over before he made it out), and then take his seat to watch possibly the definitive counterculture icon of the last 50 years. Knocked me sick.
Anyway, neck at a near-90 degree angle, I sit down (insert sad face here) to watch Bob Dylan. I'm excited. He's a few minutes late out (gig is scheduled to run from half seven till half nine). Hmmm. Awful intro begins, "The subculture icon of the sixties, drug-addled in the seventies..." or words to that effect. And then, completely unassuming, a band dressed in grey suits ambles on stage - where's Dylan? Music starts. I'm reliably informed the song is called "Cats In The Well" (Under A Red Sky - early 90s, absolutely awesome song). Dylan's on organ?
And his voice. It's not that bad. It's more like a high-pitched Tom Waits. His band, however, are fantastic. This is LOUD. Not just "loud for Dylan", but really loud. Louder than The Bad Seeds. Almost as loud as ... And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of The Dead. Dylan's organ playing is spot on. The lead guitarist is really ripping it up. The drummer is one of the best I've ever heard, period.
Then it happens - "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue". This is why I'm here - never mind political importance. Never mind quite how many of my favourite artists just wouldn't exist without Dylan, HIS songs are awesome. If watching Tom Waits (note to self: three mentions of Waits in one blog about someone else is restraining order material) was as close as I'll ever get to (re)finding Jesus, then this was an audience with the big beardy bastard himself.
It carries on - he blends music that is five years old (see - "The Levee's Gonna Break"/"Thunder On The Mountain") with music that is forty years old and it seems like the whole horrendous 80s gospel incident never happened. We get "Highway 61", we get "Like A Rolling Stone", we get a completely unbelievable rendition of "All Along The Watchtower", and my only complaint is that he ignores Blonde On Blonde in its entirety. But then, he also ignored Desire, and Blood On The Tracks. You have to consider that Bob Dylan has recorded 33 studio albums (I think), and with the exception of about ten, they're either pretty damn good or just about perfect.
Enough gushing. Here's a listening list for you:
Oh Mercy
Modern Times
Under A Red Sky
Time Out Of Mind
In no particular order. That's my recommendation of Dylan's output over the last 20 years or so. If you don't think it's as good as his 60s work, then you're wrong. Objectively so. Alternatively, you could acquire the most recent of his The Bootleg Series, being Volume 8: Tell-Tale Signs. Perfection.
Listen to Bob Dylan. And not just his old stuff.
I think we all know that Dylan's voice is shot to pieces. Recent albums, Modern Times in particular, show it can be barely more than a whisper. Smoking's bad, aye? Anyway, Dylan tours, it's £35 a ticket less than Tom Waits, and my dad's paying. Awesome. Sheffield Arena, here we come.
A note on arena gigs: just bloody don't. Were it not Dylan, I would not have been at such a soulless cavern of a place. The is something completely horrible about watching some idiot in Topman slacks buy fries and a Coca Cola so huge that, were he to take it home with him in his car, he'd need a child booster in which to accommodate it (notwithstanding the fact that the queue to get off the car park was so massive that he'd have pissed said slacks several times over before he made it out), and then take his seat to watch possibly the definitive counterculture icon of the last 50 years. Knocked me sick.
Anyway, neck at a near-90 degree angle, I sit down (insert sad face here) to watch Bob Dylan. I'm excited. He's a few minutes late out (gig is scheduled to run from half seven till half nine). Hmmm. Awful intro begins, "The subculture icon of the sixties, drug-addled in the seventies..." or words to that effect. And then, completely unassuming, a band dressed in grey suits ambles on stage - where's Dylan? Music starts. I'm reliably informed the song is called "Cats In The Well" (Under A Red Sky - early 90s, absolutely awesome song). Dylan's on organ?
And his voice. It's not that bad. It's more like a high-pitched Tom Waits. His band, however, are fantastic. This is LOUD. Not just "loud for Dylan", but really loud. Louder than The Bad Seeds. Almost as loud as ... And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of The Dead. Dylan's organ playing is spot on. The lead guitarist is really ripping it up. The drummer is one of the best I've ever heard, period.
Then it happens - "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue". This is why I'm here - never mind political importance. Never mind quite how many of my favourite artists just wouldn't exist without Dylan, HIS songs are awesome. If watching Tom Waits (note to self: three mentions of Waits in one blog about someone else is restraining order material) was as close as I'll ever get to (re)finding Jesus, then this was an audience with the big beardy bastard himself.
It carries on - he blends music that is five years old (see - "The Levee's Gonna Break"/"Thunder On The Mountain") with music that is forty years old and it seems like the whole horrendous 80s gospel incident never happened. We get "Highway 61", we get "Like A Rolling Stone", we get a completely unbelievable rendition of "All Along The Watchtower", and my only complaint is that he ignores Blonde On Blonde in its entirety. But then, he also ignored Desire, and Blood On The Tracks. You have to consider that Bob Dylan has recorded 33 studio albums (I think), and with the exception of about ten, they're either pretty damn good or just about perfect.
Enough gushing. Here's a listening list for you:
Oh Mercy
Modern Times
Under A Red Sky
Time Out Of Mind
In no particular order. That's my recommendation of Dylan's output over the last 20 years or so. If you don't think it's as good as his 60s work, then you're wrong. Objectively so. Alternatively, you could acquire the most recent of his The Bootleg Series, being Volume 8: Tell-Tale Signs. Perfection.
Listen to Bob Dylan. And not just his old stuff.
27.4.09
Bob Dylan
I pretty much went to see Bob Dylan on Friday night.
Expect one scan gushing review sort of thing where I probably talk about some other stuff for the most part then gush a bit more at the end in the next few days.
'Sabout it. I've been well busy. Also watching a lot of Carnivàle. I got a promotion at work too.
Expect one scan gushing review sort of thing where I probably talk about some other stuff for the most part then gush a bit more at the end in the next few days.
'Sabout it. I've been well busy. Also watching a lot of Carnivàle. I got a promotion at work too.
5.4.09
In defence of the Manic Street Preachers
Talk about a love/hate relationship. Normally I try and skirt the issue by saying "well, The Holy Bible" was a great album (actually, much more than that; it was, in my considered opinion, the best British rock album of the 90s) and this usually lets me leave a conversation with my muso-cred intact.
Here's a secret - were it not for the Manics, I probably wouldn't be the nerdy music fan I am today. While most people at school were all drawly Nirvana types (and don't get me wrong - Nirvana WERE the better band, by about three million miles), I idolised four Welsh boys in leopard-print and eyeliner. Everything had to be political, everything had to be a bit pretentious. I think they served me well - to analyse the Manics earlier lyrics was to set yourself a fairly spectacular reading list. My GCSE English original writing coursework was about how I discovered them, and it won me a NATE/TES award and pretty much made me realise that I know some words and how to write them down, occasionally.
Let's start with a few home truths:
With the exception of a few tracks, Generation Terrorists is a terrible, terrible double album (in vinyl terms). It should've been an EP. "You Love Us", "Motorcycle Emptiness" and a couple of others are cracking rock songs, but it suffers from a massive 80s/GN'R hangover. Programmed drums. Ugh.
Self-harm is totally not cool, and in no way a thing to imitate or admire. I wholeheartedly blame Richey Edwards for the fact that my paperclip collection is raided by some of the older, panda-eyed young ladies I teach.
They haven't made a truly great album since Everything Must Go, which was a wonderful piece of music. I dare any of you to deny the brilliance of "A Design For Life", if nothing else.
ONE phenomenal musician. Just one. James Dean Bradfield is a singer/guitarist extraordinaire. Sean Moore is an average drummer. The other two are/were borderline incompetants. I put Moore's idolisation down to the fact that most Manics fans don't listen to any other bands.
Nicky Wire is a cock. Simple as that. He's like the guy at a party who tells everyone "how much The Matrix made me get into philosophy". He's got a degree in political history. A 2(ii), don't you know?
But, for all their faults, they can and have been a fucking great rock band. I'm currently playing Gold Against The Soul and sporting a wry smile. Noah has fallen asleep to it; I use him as a barometer of taste - he likes Tom Waits and it makes him smile, whereas my own guitar playing usually makes him cry, so this is somewhere in the middle.
Back to The Holy Bible - I don't own many better records. Razor-sharp new-wave guitars, arrythmic drums, lyrics spat out far too quickly because they don't actually fit the songs and a genuine sense of despondancy. I mentioned yesterday that Johnny Cash knew his time was up when he recorded American IV: The Man Comes Around, and when you listen to this record, it is painfully obvious that Richey Edwards' mental state had deteriorated to the point of suicide. Even if I was not a fan of the band, I would own this record as a voyeur of human misery.
Anyway, despite the fact that they haven't made a truly great album in over a decade, they have a new one on the way, produced by Steve Albini and I'm a bit excited. Not holding out much hope though.
Expect a short blog consisting of "oh well, it's a bit shit" to appear here soon.
Here's a secret - were it not for the Manics, I probably wouldn't be the nerdy music fan I am today. While most people at school were all drawly Nirvana types (and don't get me wrong - Nirvana WERE the better band, by about three million miles), I idolised four Welsh boys in leopard-print and eyeliner. Everything had to be political, everything had to be a bit pretentious. I think they served me well - to analyse the Manics earlier lyrics was to set yourself a fairly spectacular reading list. My GCSE English original writing coursework was about how I discovered them, and it won me a NATE/TES award and pretty much made me realise that I know some words and how to write them down, occasionally.
Let's start with a few home truths:
With the exception of a few tracks, Generation Terrorists is a terrible, terrible double album (in vinyl terms). It should've been an EP. "You Love Us", "Motorcycle Emptiness" and a couple of others are cracking rock songs, but it suffers from a massive 80s/GN'R hangover. Programmed drums. Ugh.
Self-harm is totally not cool, and in no way a thing to imitate or admire. I wholeheartedly blame Richey Edwards for the fact that my paperclip collection is raided by some of the older, panda-eyed young ladies I teach.
They haven't made a truly great album since Everything Must Go, which was a wonderful piece of music. I dare any of you to deny the brilliance of "A Design For Life", if nothing else.
ONE phenomenal musician. Just one. James Dean Bradfield is a singer/guitarist extraordinaire. Sean Moore is an average drummer. The other two are/were borderline incompetants. I put Moore's idolisation down to the fact that most Manics fans don't listen to any other bands.
Nicky Wire is a cock. Simple as that. He's like the guy at a party who tells everyone "how much The Matrix made me get into philosophy". He's got a degree in political history. A 2(ii), don't you know?
But, for all their faults, they can and have been a fucking great rock band. I'm currently playing Gold Against The Soul and sporting a wry smile. Noah has fallen asleep to it; I use him as a barometer of taste - he likes Tom Waits and it makes him smile, whereas my own guitar playing usually makes him cry, so this is somewhere in the middle.
Back to The Holy Bible - I don't own many better records. Razor-sharp new-wave guitars, arrythmic drums, lyrics spat out far too quickly because they don't actually fit the songs and a genuine sense of despondancy. I mentioned yesterday that Johnny Cash knew his time was up when he recorded American IV: The Man Comes Around, and when you listen to this record, it is painfully obvious that Richey Edwards' mental state had deteriorated to the point of suicide. Even if I was not a fan of the band, I would own this record as a voyeur of human misery.
Anyway, despite the fact that they haven't made a truly great album in over a decade, they have a new one on the way, produced by Steve Albini and I'm a bit excited. Not holding out much hope though.
Expect a short blog consisting of "oh well, it's a bit shit" to appear here soon.
23.3.09
There is so much joy in what we do
I'm a bit short of things to blog about at the moment - nobody wants to hear how wonderful everything is. People having a good time is boring, and so if I'm happy and cool and having fun, it's boring for the six people who read this. Love y'all. Anyway, I was going to call this blog "why I love The Hold Steady", but the Craig Finn quotation I nicked for the title is pretty much the reason, so I'll use that instead.
Something heavy we could feel through all the Feminax.
The Hold Steady brought me out of a bit of a dark place, musically. Stopped me pontificating about, trying to be uberalt. and made me realise that, with a few notable exceptions, and to quote a friend, "the only music I like is rock music and if it is not rock music it is fucking shit". I was at the wonderful Connect Festival in Inveraray, Scotland, and was at that point when it was a few hours before a band that I wanted to see came along, and I was far too drunk to really get up and do anything about it.
It's great to see you back in a bar band baby.
Completely awesome. I'd drunk a lot of a popular brand of pear cider at this point, so until I bought their debut album Almost Killed Me, I couldn't be sure whether I was doing that thing were I go watch a band, get shitted, tell everyone how awesome they were, and then look really stupid. I digress. They were quite simply the best rock band I'd ever seen. I couldn't hear the lyrics (I needn't have worried on this point - Craig Finn is up there with Dylan and Waits, so far as I'm concerned), but it was just song after song. Nothing atonal, nothing grinding, just vaguely punk-inflected melody, big guitars, a few solos and a nice keyboard sound. Everything I'd rallied against for years. Hypocrisy is fucking awesome.
Lost in fog and love and faithless fear, I've had kisses that make Judas seem sincere.
The Hold Steady are the first band that legitimises my Catholic guilt. Every Sunday that I don't go to church (and that's pretty much the past 500+ Sundays), the guilt grows. The Hold Steady reference enough Catholicism for me to feel better about this. That doesn't usually happen. Separation Sunday is such a wonderful album for this. It's a loose concept album, based around the character of Hallelujah (but the kids they called her Holly), who struggles to equate Catholicism with taking drugs and being promiscuous. That's helpful.
So this is it, this is the end of the session, I ain't gonna be taking any more questions. I think my attorney's going to second that notion.
"So I'm just going to go right ahead and say it. Here it comes. Thank you so much - there is so joy in what we do!"
Every time I've seen the band, Craig Finn says this, and it brings tears to my eyes. Such honesty from a man pushing middle age is a wonderful thing. If you don't enjoy being in a band, fucking stop it and let someone else do it, because there's millions of people who'll do it better than you anyway. The Hold Steady are the perfect antidote to the whinging rockstar. Stay Positive.
Something heavy we could feel through all the Feminax.
The Hold Steady brought me out of a bit of a dark place, musically. Stopped me pontificating about, trying to be uberalt. and made me realise that, with a few notable exceptions, and to quote a friend, "the only music I like is rock music and if it is not rock music it is fucking shit". I was at the wonderful Connect Festival in Inveraray, Scotland, and was at that point when it was a few hours before a band that I wanted to see came along, and I was far too drunk to really get up and do anything about it.
It's great to see you back in a bar band baby.
Completely awesome. I'd drunk a lot of a popular brand of pear cider at this point, so until I bought their debut album Almost Killed Me, I couldn't be sure whether I was doing that thing were I go watch a band, get shitted, tell everyone how awesome they were, and then look really stupid. I digress. They were quite simply the best rock band I'd ever seen. I couldn't hear the lyrics (I needn't have worried on this point - Craig Finn is up there with Dylan and Waits, so far as I'm concerned), but it was just song after song. Nothing atonal, nothing grinding, just vaguely punk-inflected melody, big guitars, a few solos and a nice keyboard sound. Everything I'd rallied against for years. Hypocrisy is fucking awesome.
Lost in fog and love and faithless fear, I've had kisses that make Judas seem sincere.
The Hold Steady are the first band that legitimises my Catholic guilt. Every Sunday that I don't go to church (and that's pretty much the past 500+ Sundays), the guilt grows. The Hold Steady reference enough Catholicism for me to feel better about this. That doesn't usually happen. Separation Sunday is such a wonderful album for this. It's a loose concept album, based around the character of Hallelujah (but the kids they called her Holly), who struggles to equate Catholicism with taking drugs and being promiscuous. That's helpful.
So this is it, this is the end of the session, I ain't gonna be taking any more questions. I think my attorney's going to second that notion.
"So I'm just going to go right ahead and say it. Here it comes. Thank you so much - there is so joy in what we do!"
Every time I've seen the band, Craig Finn says this, and it brings tears to my eyes. Such honesty from a man pushing middle age is a wonderful thing. If you don't enjoy being in a band, fucking stop it and let someone else do it, because there's millions of people who'll do it better than you anyway. The Hold Steady are the perfect antidote to the whinging rockstar. Stay Positive.
5.2.09
The best two records I've listened to this week
I used to listen to a lot of this sort of thing when I was a bit younger. My beloved Phlegm Fatales were heavily influenced by Bad Religion and their ilk when we first started out. I think it had something to do with being skint and unhappy. It's odd listening to the music that people in their 40s made when they were younger than you are. Suffer is a great record - it's short (long punk albums are almost always a bad idea, unless you're The Clash), it's angry, and it changed the face of punk music beyond repair. Unfortunately, it mostly went shit (see: your little brother's record collection), but Bad Religion were cool as fuck. I like the artwork too.
Notable tracks: 'Suffer', 'Do What You Want', '1000 More Fools'.
Night train is groovy
An orange jubilee
Feels good comin' and goin'
I'm warm all over me
Fire up the crack boys
And tie off my arm
Cinch up my diaper
Turn the TV on
Give me another blow job
Before I'm on the nod
Say you'll always love me and
Never do me harm
Never do me harm
Never do me harm
Well you're a preacher's daughter
And I'm a bastard's son...
There can be nothing wrong with an album that includes these lyrics. Mark Lanegan is a new discovery for me, and my life is a better thing with him in it.
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