Iã¢â‚¬â„¢m Not Writing Anything New
Getintothis delves into the records which have gathered dust over the first half of the year, and Matt Eland delivers his verdict on the best of the rest.
The Long Blondes: Couples – Album of the Calendar week
Crude Trade
Things haven’t been going well for the Long Blondes recently.
Ticket sales have fallen at the apex of their NME-led hype entrada and there are whispers of discontent within the band, but on this evidence they’re far from a creative spent force.
They kick things off with Century’s under whelming intro, but once the dull synth and crass lyrics are displaced by some cheeky loops and Kate Jackson’s staccato description of a “white-black-grey-light-space-craftâ€?, the standard never drops.
We’re on more than familiar territory with Guilt and Here Comes the Serious Bit, as anyone who’s heard their previous hits tin adjure to, and it’s hither that Jackson’s vocals really cut through.
It’southward been said before and I’ll say it again now; she’s a born star in every sense of the work, her immaculate hooks pitched perfect and lifting the band above so many of their contempories. Just to testify that the band can go along up as well, there’s some unexpected weirdness on Round the Hairpin with a loopy bassline and an understatedly tricky trounce.
8/10
Steven Malkmus and the Jicks: Real Emotional Trash
Domino
I’ve never been besides bothered by annihilation Steven Malkmus has done.
Pavement never interested me, and on Existent Emotional Trash he chooses to imbue his music with embarrassing tweeness.
Song titles such equally Hopscotch Willy and Wicked Wanda tell half the story â€Â" he’southward not writing about annihilation with whatsoever kind of weight, despite the raw, bluesy nature of the music. On Dragonfly Pie he interrupts some promising noise with nonsense near a ‘dragonfly wanting a piece of piece’, and even a bit of cutsie-poo glockenspiel in the background. Possibly I’g beingness unfair, simply there’south no danger here, no depth, and despite multiple, multiple listens, cipher inspires.
4/10
Moby: Concluding Night
Mute
I put the new Moby CD on and a strange thing happened
it was every bit if I was suddenly sucked through time into an Chiliad-People 90s hellcatraz.
Ooh Yeah is indicative of the rubbishness of nearly of the record (the final 3 tracks gamely effort to rescue information technology, simply more than on that afterwards).
Information technology keeps building layer upon layer of rubbishness
shit sampled vocal, dull ‘funky’ guitar riffing, treble heavy nineties trip the light fantastic toe keyboard
a quite catchy vocal hook wades in, but by then the kid is already fitting on the seabed.
At to the lowest degree you lot can rely on Moby to provide some overnice advert music, and that comes at the end â€Â" Sugariness Apocalypse starts to inject a scrap of darkness into things, hinting that maybe, if he tried to stop hitting every genre base, he could produce something a chip nastier next time effectually. On Terminal Night he lets the vocals accept over, lets his super producer attitude slide, and it’s and so much more constructive.
v/ten
Midnight Juggernauts: Dystopia
EMI
I was excited about hearing this ring, a total unknown quantity for me, and from the cover alone it looked similar I was in for some prog fun.
Start comes the synth, then the R2D2 bleeping, and I was all ready for the rock to blare out of the speakers, merely then, a moments silence â€Â" and something like AIR comes out, mixed with falsetto vocals and a disco beat.
Unexpected, and so, but not entirely unwelcome. It’s almost a little besides chilled, withal, lacking the streak of lunacy that the Klaxons, for case, would bring.
This means that the album tends to blend into one, which isn’t necessarily a bad matter. The chord progressions impress most
incommunicable to second guess.
vi/10
Charlottefield: What Are Friends For
Fat Cat
Charlottefield are probably ace alive, simply on the evidence of this tape there’s not much too them, since they never deviate from the blueprint set past first track Beatings. Roving basslines and steady fill heavy drum beats holding together intermittent lo-fi guitar work â€Â" it’s impressive at first, just it’s all at the same head banging tempo, no light or shade or texture. It’s a shame that they’ve only broken up, as I would have liked the alive experience to contextualise all this.
vi/10
Teenagers: Reality Check
Merok
I don’t want to say likewise much nigh this band, they annoy me that much.
They could be good – the music has promise, there’south some catchy stuff only lyrically, the spoken word bits it all exposes their lack of soul. This is manner music, crass and charmless, devoid of ingenuity, passion or depth, with stupid French accents.
All the songs are vacuous tales of fucking and drinking and beingness a trendy teenager. This would be all well and expert if yous felt a chip of empathy, maybe even raised a smile at present and again.
Merely this isn’t ironic. They just come across and nasty, self obsessed brats bragging about shagging their stepsisters. And no corporeality of Bret Easton Ellis references can save them.
0/10
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Source: https://www.getintothis.co.uk/2008/07/new_soundbites_extra/
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